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ugh-yoongi · 6 months

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a word from our sponsors | knj

you’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it. 🎙️

pairing: namjoon x f. reader genre: podcast, friends to lovers au; crack, smut, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact. warnings: parasocial relationships galore, a m*n with a p*dcast, author abuses italics, swearing, alcohol, reader uses a pseudonym/nickname (piper) because writing the meta fanfiction scene would've been too weird without one and i refuse to use y/n, dialogue-heavy but it is a fic about a podcast, everyone is down horrendous, mentions of social media & fake r*ddit posts, ex-boyfriend yoongi but in a good, healthy way. let me know if i missed anything but mostly this is just two goofballs not realizing they're in love with one another. smut warnings: kissing, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex (fiction), protected vaginal sex (nonfiction), a lil squirting, mild degradation, mentions of a p*ss kink but there is no actual pee i promise (...lest?), i didn't intend to write size kink but it's namjoon so it just showed up anyway, slight dom!joon, everyone orgasms. wordcount: 17.5k credits: this was entirely inspired by that one episode of the basement yard where frankie reads the smut fic of him and joe, so credits to both that author and that podcast. spotify, for their podcast name generator. astro-seek for helping me drag namjoon astrologically. an extra special, gigantic thanks to @effortandmore for writing the meta fanfic (3k of it, no less!) and not batting an eye when i said it could have pee in it as a joke. this is as much yours as it is mine. finally, @hot-soop and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over for me and telling me i'm funny. author's note: happy birthday, indigo! here i am to validate every fear you've ever had that the people you write porn about may one day read it. live and on air. :)

You’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years.

You can learn a lot about a guy in that amount of time.

None of it is especially salacious. You know all about his family and his dog and the brand of recycled paper towels he insists on buying in bulk. You know what he’d written his grad school thesis on and what he’d looked like in the thick of it, when he was staving off his fifth mental break of the week. You know how fidgety he gets when it’s closing in on Friday night and he’s got a date—how much he stresses over which restaurant to pick, which cologne, which expensive cashmere sweater to wear.

You also know what the internet thinks about him. Intimately.

Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is peak husband material. He has cheeks ripe for pinching and thighs small countries would go to war to defend. He has a lap that doubles as a seat and dimples people want to get baptized in. He has Instagram selfies with hundreds of thousands of likes and comment sections full of intelligible keysmashes, especially the ones he posts from the gym.

Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is a man written by a woman.

Looking at him now, you aren’t sure that’s true, you think people just need to raise their standards. Namjoon is just… Namjoon. He’s intelligent and kind and up to date on modern feminist theory, is all. And, sure, maybe in the current political landscape that puts him far above the rest of men, but the way the internet has latched onto him is a little concerning.

“There’s another post about whether or not we’re dating,” you say, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

sooo let’s be real here, we ALL think they’re dating, right?? Posted by u/pod-shipper 2 hours ago

Just like he always does, Namjoon huffs out a soft laugh, makes his way around to your side of the table. Puts his large hands on your shoulders as he leans in close to read from your screen, snorting every time he reads a sentence he finds particularly amusing. Whichever cologne he’d chosen this morning is, admittedly, very nice.

It’s sooo obvious, especially in the episodes they film and post on YouTube. The way they look at each other?? I don’t even look at my HUSBAND like that! (+1264) ↳ omg ur sooooo right! i could MAYBE buy that they aren’t full on dating, but they’ve def at least slept together. Namjoon is so 🔥🔥🔥 (+791) ↳ um how can namjoon be dating her when he’s already married to me 😌💅 (+3) ↳ For the millionth time, can we not speculate on their personal lives? This is weird and reinforces really harmful ideas that men and women can’t just be friends. (-51)

“How come they never talk about how hot you are?”

You can tell by the look on Namjoon’s face that he hadn’t meant to say that—or, if he did, he didn’t mean to say it like that, with an entire pout, eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. “Cursed to be ugly and dumb,” you joke to ease the sudden tension, reading the comment that simply says you’d have to be the dumbest person alive to not sleep with Namjoon.

He scrunches his nose at that. Returns to his side of the table. “Yeah, I don’t think so, lots of people haven’t slept with me.” Starts to unpack all the gear from his bag before he says, “Hey, all that stuff—does it bother you?”

“What do you mean?” you answer, the corner of a protein bar stuck in your mouth. Namjoon always insists on recording at the most inconvenient times.

“People thinking we’re together,” he clarifies.

You shrug. “I dunno. Not really. Comes with the territory, I think, not to mention how much you love to overshare—”

“Hello?”

“I’m just saying,” you retort, hands raised in self-defense. “There really was no need for you to mention you blew your grad school stipend on a porn scam.” Namjoon looks affronted, like he can’t believe you’d stoop so low as to bring that up. “Or that you lost your virginity at fifteen.”

“We have a relationship podcast,” he states simply. “That’s kind of what we do, right? Talk about relationships? And the spectrum of human sexuality is part of that.”

You slump back in your chair as you quirk an eyebrow. “No one said it wasn’t, I just said you overshare. Which you do.”

“And that’s why there’s a dozen Reddit posts a week discussing whether or not we’re dating? Because I overshare?”

“Yeah, exactly. That’s the kind of behavior that leads to parasocial relationships. People latch onto that shit. Makes them think they’re your friend.” He glares. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m right. It’s bad enough you’ve word-vomited all this highly personal information about yourself, but to not even do it under a pseudonym? It’s like you’re begging for trouble.”

Another comment he doesn’t even realize he’s making: “I don’t beg. For anything.”

To this day, you’re not sure why Namjoon asked you to co-host a podcast with him.

His reasoning had been simple: “You’re my best friend and we don’t agree on anything.” Hard to argue with that. Namjoon has seemingly endless patience, even in the face of things he shouldn’t entertain, and you… do not, to put it simply.

You’re not a cold person. Your fuse isn’t short. You’re just a little jaded, is all. Have far less propensity for bullshit than Namjoon does, so the two of you play well off each other. You end a sentence with a well-punctuated full stop and Namjoon’s right behind you to sigh and say maybe you shouldn’t be so hasty, not everything in the world can be so black or white.

Except some things are. Somewhere along the way, the podcast—which Namjoon had affectionately named Place Him Gently in the Garbage, even though some people should be shoved in there with force—had picked up a following. A big one. And now, every week, you’re inundated with emails ranging in severity. Sometimes people just want to vent after their tenth bad date in a row or share funny stories, and Namjoon lets you take the lead on those, but sometimes it’s a little more serious. That’s where Namjoon shines, all that endless patience, and people love him for it.

“What’s on the agenda today?” he asks, accepting a thick stack of papers from Jungkook.

Ah, Jungkook.

You aren’t sure what he actually does. Some kind of social media manager, which is obvious from the wildly out-of-context clips he posts of you to TikTok, and it’s his responsibility to go through the thousands of emails you get from listeners, but aside from that all you’ve got are your suspicions that he just sticks around to swindle Namjoon out of more and more money.

“I’m in a silly goofy mood,” comes Jungkook’s reply, and you let out a witch cackle as Namjoon winces. Nothing good ever comes of Jungkook being in a silly goofy mood, and that’s quite alright by you.

Fifteen minutes later finds you with a camera in your face that you greet with an unamused, flat stare. Jungkook is used to it by now. Just films for a few seconds before turning his attention to an unaware Namjoon. Head down, pen and highlighter going a mile a minute as he pores over the stack of papers with all the doggedness and eagle-eyed stare of a literature professor.

That’s the thing about Namjoon—he takes this really seriously. So do you, but not in the ways Namjoon does. He’s all skill and determination and you’re color commentary. It works. It clearly works, so you aren’t too bent out of shape about it, but sometimes you worry. Namjoon takes this really seriously and sometimes you worry that he takes it too seriously, that he carries the burdens and worries of all these strangers, that he’s trying to solve and fix things that aren’t his responsibility to solve and fix.

So he takes it really seriously and you don’t take it as seriously as you maybe should, and everything is by design. Balanced.

Twenty minutes later finds you staring across the table at Namjoon, who asks, “Are you ready?” and does one last equipment check before he launches into, “Welcome back to another episode of Place Him Gently in the Garbage with Namjoon and Piper. What’s new with you, Pipe? Any fun news?”

Pipe. It drives you nuts. Feels like nails on a chalkboard. “I see you almost every single day,” you respond dryly. “But for the sake of entertainment, I’m thinking about getting a cat.”

“A cat?” Namjoon parrots, and his eyebrows disappear beneath his fringe because he knows what that means.

You’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, but you’ve known him even longer.

Since your first year of college, which is also when you met Yoongi. Yoongi, your ex. Yoongi, the person you’d been with for six years and had planned a life around. Yoongi, now one of your closest friends, because the two of you still love one another but no longer in that way, which is fine. But also—Yoongi, allergic to cats.

So, yeah. Namjoon knows what that means, and he has the good sense not to mention it. Unlike him, you’re intensely private and keep your cards close to your chest. Your listeners don’t even know your real name, let alone that you’d gone through a breakup a year ago.

“What kind of cat?” he continues, like his entire world hasn’t just been turned upside-down.

You shrug. “Eh, I don’t know. Probably one that’s been in the shelter a long time, I guess. I’m not too fussy, you know?”

“Right, a cat is a cat,” Namjoon says, thinking he’s done something. You and Jungkook gasp at the same time. “What? Why are you giving me that look?”

“Because that’s a fucked up thing to say! A cat is not just a cat. They have little personalities, just like people. You’ve got—”

“But you just said you’re not fussy,” he interjects. “And I know they have personalities and that you have to find one that suits your lifestyle! Like, you can’t have one of those really cool cats that likes to go kayaking and shit, it’d never work—”

“What does that mean? Why couldn’t I have a cool cat?”

“Hey, all you cool cats and kittens,” Namjoon mocks, and you can tell he thinks he’s done something again, but his impression falls flatter than flat. An awkward silence fills the studio. He coughs. “Anyway. Do you have pictures?”

“Yeah. I also have a list of candidates ranked by how cool their names are. Number five, Casserole.”

“That’s cute.”

“Mhm,” you agree, “but Casserole is a kitten, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of responsibility.”

“They do say you should adopt kittens in pairs.”

“And that’s how they get you. You want one kitten and they talk you into two, and before you know it you’ve got, like, twelve cats. Number four, Party Girl.”

“Sick name.”

“Number three, Toddler.”

“Toddler?”

“Number two, Flat.”

“Just Flat? Understandable.”

“And, finally, number one: Human Torch.”

“Yoooo.” Namjoon laughs. “You have to adopt Human Torch. Let me see.” You pull up a picture on your phone and hand it over. “Okay, for our listeners—Human Torch is a young, male Domestic Short Hair. He has stripes. I don’t know what that’s called.”

“Tabby,” Jungkook chimes in.

“Jungkook says he’s a tabby. He’s cute. Adopt him.”

You return your phone to your pocket. “Maybe. I still think I want an older cat, but I’ll consider it. What about you, though? Any new dating horror stories to share?”

Ah, the dating horror stories. Your most dedicated shippers are convinced they’re fake, that Namjoon just makes them up on the spot to keep them off your trail. If only. Not in the if only they were fake and Namjoon and I were actually dating kind of way, but the holy shit one of my closest friends is a fucking disaster and it’s a little embarrassing kind of way.

“Not really,” he answers. “I’ve got a date this Friday, though. Trying to decide if dinner and a movie is too boring.”

“It’s a classic for a reason. What are you gonna see, My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3?”

“Three?” Namjoon emphasizes, truly sounding scandalized. “Since when are there three? I haven’t even seen one or two.”

“Okay, first of all, the original is a classic and it’s a crime you haven’t seen it.”

“And second of all?”

“There is no second of all. Repeat point one.”

He snorts. “I’m not gonna see that, anyway. Maybe the re-release of Howl’s Moving Castle.”

“Subbed or dubbed, though?”

“Are you trying to get me canceled?”

“Absolutely.”

“I like both,” he chickens out. “Now, let’s stop wasting time and get to the point of the show.”

“Talking about cats is a waste of time?”

“I—no, we’ve just got a lot on the agenda today.”

“Like what?”

“Well, there’s lots to talk about on the celebrity front—”

Namjoon loves this part. As esteemed and educated as he is, not even he is immune to good old celebrity gossip. (Inside him there are two wolves.) Lives for it. Texts you about it at all hours of the night. Sends you links to Reddit threads with hundreds of comments. Has more opinions on Celebrity Big Brother than he does on Ludwig Wittgenstein, sometimes, and when that’s the case you know you’re in for a long evening. You’ve never even seen an episode of Celebrity Big Brother.

But Namjoon loves it, so you’ve become fond of it by association. Reminds you a bit of Yoongi and his love for sports and sports anime.

“—one should we start with?”

“Whatever you want,” you answer, because you haven’t been paying a lick of attention and you aren’t sure it matters anyway. Namjoon can talk to a wall on a good day, but he’s an entirely different beast once mundane, innocuous celeb gossip gets involved.

And even though you hadn’t been paying attention, it seems like this was the right thing to say, because Namjoon smiles so wide his dimples crater his face. “Cool. Let’s start with Taryn Manning. Did you see that bizarre—”

“Who?”

“What?”

“Who is Taryn Manning?”

Namjoon looks a little dumbstruck. Even Jungkook’s arching an eyebrow at you. “Are you serious? She was in Orange is the New Black and Crossroads.”

“The Britney Spears movie?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Weird, okay. Continue.”

Your co-host shoots you a very pointed look. “I will, thanks. Anyway, she posted a video on social media talking about this affair she had with a married man. Like, she pulled over on the side of the road to record this. Said she can’t stand the man’s wife because she called her a quote-unquote lunatic.”

“I—huh, thought we weren’t supposed to say that anymore. Alright.”

“But wait, it gets even more bizarre. Listen to this quote—and this is direct. This is a direct quote from the video, I can’t stop thinking about it: ‘Don’t you ever threaten me when your husband came to me to get his butthole licked.’ Can you—”

“What? Namjoon, what in the fuck—”

“It’s crazy, right? She was gonna buy this guy a boat.”

“Namjoon, this is a family show, you can’t just talk about ass-eating unprompted.”

“No it’s not.”

“Well, you still shouldn’t talk about ass-eating unprompted. It’s unbecoming.”

“You’re unbecoming,” Namjoon fires back, because he can’t help it. The words are out of his mouth before he can think. “Sorry, that was out of line.”

You sigh. Know whatever look Jungkook is catching on his camera right now is exasperated and pointed, the corners of your mouth probably tugged up just a hint. “Unbecoming, like I said.” Namjoon scoffs. “Anyway, so this actress was gonna buy this married guy a boat and was eating his ass?”

“Yeah. Apparently it was her friend’s husband? They all went to a Taylor Swift concert together.”

“Jesus, this keeps getting worse. Big year for Hollywood cheaters.”

“It is, right? Cheaters and divorces. Something in the water, I guess.”

“I saw the astrology girlies saying a bunch of planets are in retrograde, so—”

“Can you explain that to me? Like, what does it mean for a planet to be in retrograde? Why is it causing divorces?”

“I don’t know, I’m not an astrology girlie. That’s why I said the astrology girlies. What are your big three, though?”

“What’s that?”

“Your sun, moon, and rising signs.”

“How do I find that out?”

“Ugh,” you intone, “don’t worry about it, I’ll do it myself. What time were you born?”

Namjoon rattles off a time.

You grab your laptop. Pull up the page, type in Namjoon’s date of birth and birthplace, and wait. Then you’re staring at a circle with a bunch of lines in it that also don’t make a lick of sense to you. You roll your lips to keep from laughing and school your voice into something deadly serious. “Bad news: it says you’re a virgin.”

“Virgo,” Namjoon corrects, not taking the bait. “I already knew that.”

You scroll a little further down the page. “Your moon is in Sagittarius. Oh god, listen to this, they’ve got you pegged: ‘The greatest need is to always search for something. In order to feel safe you need a philosophy or belief’—”

“Haaa, that’s not—”

“—’You need to have a goal or mission that gives your life meaning. Your faith must be voluntary and it is a paradox that fighting against dogmas may lead you to other dogmas.’ Yeah, that’s you.”

“That could apply to anyone,” he argues. “There are seven-billion people on this planet; I’d imagine a sizable amount of them would say that also describes them.”

“Hm, sounds like your faith in astrology is not yet voluntary. Did you know you’re a Scorpio rising?”

“No. I’m sure you’re gonna tell me all about it, though.”

You smile. “Correct. ‘People with Scorpio on the Ascendant need to fight against dark and destructive power in their life.’ Is that true?”

“Yeah, you’re the dark and destructive power. You keep sidetracking me and we need to get to the point of the podcast.” He grabs the stack of papers Jungkook had given him. Looks more highlighter than paper, if you’re being honest. “I guess Jungkook thought we needed a lighthearted kind of day.”

“That was nice of him, considering what he gave us last week. I guess we’re allowed to have faith in humanity today.”

To your left, Jungkook scoffs.

“Alright,” Namjoon starts, putting on his Very Serious Podcast Guy voice, “first up we’ve got a question from one of our listeners in Canada. It says, ‘Hi, Piper and Namjoon. I recently agreed to go on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She said he was a bit old-fashioned but really talked him up so I thought I was in good hands—and then he showed up to get me in a ‘67 GTO and exclusively referred to me as doll. He didn’t use my name once. I’m torn, because he was really nice and I had a good time otherwise, but this is weird, right? Should I see him agai—’”

“No,” you interject.

“Can I finish?”

“You don’t have to. This guy sounds greasy.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “And why is that?”

“Ignoring the fact that this guy has arguably one of the lamest classic cars around, he didn’t use their name once? Not once, in all the time they spent together? That’s really disrespectful.”

“Some people are just pet name people,” Namjoon argues.

“With absolute strangers, though? It’s really giving the impression that he didn’t even know it, not to mention some people are uncomfortable with pet names. The whole shtick is super lame.”

“I agree it sounds a bit misguided, but—”

Ignoring Namjoon, you say, “Sorry you had to go on a date with the ghost of less-cool James Dean. Into the garbage he goes.”

And, just like he’s done a million times before, Namjoon rolls his eyes and says, “If you really like this guy and want to see him again, a bit of communication will go a long way. Tell him the pet name made you uncomfortable—if it did—and offer to pick him up for the next date. I don’t think he’s completely destined for the garbage, yet.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have a license. You probably think a 1967 Pontiac GTO is the pinnacle of romance. That’s probably like picking someone up on a Specialized Aethos to you, eh?”

“That’s a fifteen-thousand dollar bike, I’ll have you know.”

You groan. “Oh my god.”

Ep: #183 - Namjoon is a Virgin

I think Namjoon had the right idea on this one. Sure, the car can be considered lame, but I think a lot of men are deeply insecure and therefore overcompensate when it comes to dating. Women are hard to impress when they have unlimited options. You have to stand out, so I’m glad he advocated for him. Piper can come off like such a misandrist sometimes. (-649) ↳ just shut up bro namjoon would fuckin hate u (+204) ↳ Imagine caring about something like this when they’re getting a cat together 🙄 (+19)

You think about the cat thing for nearly a week.

Adopting a cat is certainly not the worst idea you’ve ever had, and truth be told it’s been a little lonely, living by yourself. No more Yoongi in your space; no more Holly. So, having a new little friend around might do you some good.

It’s just—

It’s a big commitment, and there’s also the dog sitting-shaped elephant in the room. Ending things on good terms means you’re still Yoongi’s second-choice sitter whenever he has to go out of town, and while you love Holly dearly (the two of you had adopted him together, after all), he’s a lot like his father in a lot of ways.

Should I get a cat, you type out, and it’s only been in Yoongi’s inbox a few seconds before the most unflattering picture you’ve ever taken of him is flashing across your screen.

“Are you dying?” you ask, because Yoongi doesn’t call you for much else.

And you already know what his response is going to be. “We’re all dying.”

“Lighten up, Yoongi. One might say being so existentially nihilistic before noon causes wrinkles.”

There’s a split-second pause. “It’s nine p.m.”

“Sure, but it’s before tomorrow’s noon, so it still counts.”

“Whatever. Listen, before you adopt that cat, I need a favor.”

“You going out of town again?”

“Yeah. Shouldn’t be long, though. A week at the most, five days if I’m lucky.”

“That’s fine, bring him over whenever. Yijeong’s busy?”

This pause is far, far longer. “No,” comes Yoongi’s eventual response, but it’s slow. Unsure. A two-letter word has never taken so long to say in the history of ever. “He’s, uh. Coming with me?”

Oh, you think. This is where your ex awkwardly and hesitantly breaks the news of his new relationship. You’ve known this day was coming, and this is what you get for staying friends with him. “This is a fanfiction plot,” you accuse. “Hot, mysterious man moves into a gaudy apartment complex after ending a long-term relationship and meets his equally-hot and mysterious neighbor and they fall in love.”

“I—that’s not—my apartment is not gaudy.”

“Yes it is. There’s a giant gold bust of a weird bird in the lobby.”

“Weird bird?” he parrots. “It’s a swan.”

“I see you’re not denying the in-love-with-your-neighbor accusations.”

“Am I on trial?” Yoongi retorts, and it’s such a Yoongi thing to say when what he means is, is this okay? He means, are we able to talk about this without it being weird? He means, I won’t ever say as much out loud, but your acceptance means a lot to me, and I’d like for you to give me this.

So you lower your voice and soften the edges because it’s not really something to joke about, and you say, “No, of course you’re not on trial,” and Yoongi knows what you mean. “And if you were, you'd get locked up for fifty years. You can’t lie for shit.”

There’s a beat of silence before he clears his throat, mutters a thanks that is so quiet you almost don’t catch it. “Send me pictures of the cats.”

Later on, once you’re freshly-showered and tucked into bed with a candle and a book (Eloge de l’amour by Alain Badiou at Namjoon’s insistence and request), your phone buzzes with a text from Yoongi—

Yoongi: toddler is a fucking hilarious name for a cat but so is flat Yoongi: it’s a tie for me You: Okay well pick one 🙄 Yoongi: yijeong says get both You: Both???? Is he paying my vet bills? Yoongi: kinda out of line to proposition him for money. flat is also good with dogs, js You: If he’s now being raised by you two, my perfect, well-behaved son is probably long gone. Does he even count as a dog anymore? Yoongi: me and yijeong both say fuck off Yoongi: holly too. he says he doesn’t miss you anymore and he’s not coming over now Yoongi has added Yijeong to the group Yoongi has changed the group name to #ThirdWheelChat Yijeong: Please don’t drag me into this. Also I did not say “fuck off” You have changed the group name to People Who Have Seen Yoongi Naked Yoongi: fuck you

You should’ve known something was going on with Jungkook, because it’d started like this:

(When you and Namjoon started the podcast three years ago, it was in the living room of his apartment.

Surrounded by books and plants. He loved to record in the afternoons back then—Namjoon loved to say it was because of his grad school schedule, but you’ve always suspected he just wanted to preen in the golden hour light, much like he’s doing now.

“Is this really necessary?” Jungkook whines from his spot on the couch. He’s already swindled Namjoon out of two bags of microwavable popcorn and three cans of sparkling water. “It’s a Saturday afternoon; I could be doing something so much more fun than this.”

Namjoon scoffs. “Are you saying this isn’t fun?”

“Yeah. It sucks, actually. This could’ve been an email.”

And because Namjoon is accomplished, mature, and absolutely incapable of not taking Jungkook’s bait, the space between his brows creases as he sends a murderous glare Jungkook’s way. “Stop eating my food, then. And drinking my drinks. And lounging on my couch like that—”

“I’m not lounging,” Jungkook argues.

“You’re manspreading all over the leather!”

“This is how I sit!”

“Well, knock it off! My couch is only for fun and people who think I’m fun!”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “So you fuck on it?”

“What?”

“What other fun things could you possibly do on a couch?”

Namjoon blinks. “Watch… watch a movie?”

Jungkook groans, throws himself backwards against the pillows as if he’s suffering a Victorian ailment. “Jesus. No wonder you can’t score a second date.”

“Okay, that was a little uncalled for. There are a ton of reasons a person might not want a second date, and no one is obligated to go out with me—”

“Uh-huh. Anyway—”

You clear your throat. Try to hide your own can of seltzer you’d taken from Namjoon’s fridge in the midst of his and Jungkook’s bickering. “Not trying to be rude, but I have an appointment at the shelter at three. If, y’know. You wouldn’t mind speeding this up a little.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course—”

“Oh, so you’ll speed this up for her but not—”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “She,” he begins, jerking his thumb in your direction, “isn’t needlessly complaining and actually has someplace to be.”)

It was just a quick little rendezvous in Namjoon’s living room to come up with a rough draft for the following month’s episodes. He couldn’t do it over text because he’d fallen down the steps at his office and landed on his ass on the corner of a step and his phone had been in his back pocket. Cracked clean in half. And he couldn’t do it over email because he—rightfully—knew Jungkook would ignore them because he has his inbox set up to send all of Namjoon’s personal emails to the trash.

But Jungkook holds onto things like that. Grudges. Loves to let Namjoon think bygones are bygones and pop up a few days later with some evil scheme. Hence:

“What is this?”

Jungkook smirks. Rocks back on his heels. “It’s fanfiction.”

“I can see that, but… why?”

This is where Jungkook shines: the ominous, cheshire cat grin; the aw, shucks demeanor that gaslights Namjoon into thinking Jungkook couldn’t possibly be fucking with him. “Well, you were having trouble coming up with ideas for episodes, and there’s an email in there from someone whose partner reads really expli—”

“Jungkook, this is fanfiction about me.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. Of all the weird shit you’ve seen on the internet (and there’s been a lot), fanfiction of people you know—your friends—was something you’d managed to escape. Probably by virtue of not knowing anyone famous enough to warrant fanfiction being written about them.

But you should’ve known. You really, really should’ve known.

“Oh my god?”

You’re not sure who says it. Could be you or Namjoon, but the sentiment is the same. He mouths a what the fuck at you that’s met with a shrug. You’re in uncharted territory now, too. “Where did you even find this?” you ask, taking the stack of papers from Namjoon. “And why did you print it out?”

“Because I’m going to track down whoever wrote it and get them to autograph it. Then I’m going to buy a nice frame and hang it on the wall behind him, so we never forget this historical moment in Place Him Gently in the Garbage lore.”

“It’s a podcast,” Namjoon deadpans, “how can it have lore? And how much lore can there possibly be?”

“It’s the internet,” you concede. “The lore possibilities are endless. Don’t tempt them.”

Jungkook nods sagely, well-versed in the degeneracy of the internet. “Yeah, that’s how you end up with shit like 4chan.”

“4chan? There’s Space Jam porn on there.”

As the youngest, all Jungkook can do is roll his eyes. “Sometimes explaining this shit to you feels like trying to teach old people how to rotate PDFs—”

Namjoon scoffs. “I’m not that bad. I know how to rotate a PDF.”

Wow, Jungkook mouths. “Anyway, back to the fanfiction—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Namjoon interjects. He looks at you. “It’s weird, right? Like, it’s weird that people have written this about us?”

About us.

Your scope of the world narrows to the size of a pinhead. It’d just been about Namjoon before. This is fanfiction about me, he’d said, and you hadn’t been included in that. Now it’s written about us and you’re included.

“I—what?”

“It’s about us,” Namjoon repeats.

Jungkook rolls his lips. “It’s about the two of you fucking, to be specific.”

“Can you not—”

“Fucking a lot,” Jungkook continues. “So much fucking.”

Namjoon looks at you, and it’s all you can do to keep from laughing. The look on his face is pure bewilderment, both that Jungkook has cooked up this idea and is hell-bent on executing it and that he remains employed. And maybe it’s a little bit of nerves, too, because neither of you are ignorant of the risks. Reading fanfiction about yourselves—about the two of you as a couple, specifically, or at least two people who have sex—is weird. Not something you can unread.

And maybe it’s because you’re so determined to not make it weird that you send Namjoon a cheeky, exaggerated wink, shrug your shoulders, and say, “I’ll need a couple drinks, but I’m down.”

Jungkook throws his head back and cackles wildly, and that look of bewilderment on Namjoon’s face morphs into something else. Trepidation, maybe; definitely disbelief, because sometimes he lets himself get swept away in Jungkook’s schemes, but it’s rare that you follow suit.

As Jungkook continues to laugh, you wonder if you should’ve said no.

Namjoon has two stipulations: the two of you have to film the episode completely alone, and he, too, needs to be a little drunk.

The latter? Piece of cake, considering Namjoon has become some sort of whiskey aficionado in recent years. His drinking is streamlined and to the point—he knows exactly how much and what to drink to get him where he wants to be. You can’t say he isn’t efficient.

The former, though? Borderline impossible. From the second Namjoon states his terms, Jungkook is having none of it. Argues that he’s the one who found the story and the one who cleared it with the author, so he deserves to witness the fruits of his labor.

“No,” Namjoon repeats for the nth time, “no way. I’ll barely be able to do this with just her, let alone both of you.”

And that—that doesn’t bother you, right? You force a laugh, because why would it bother you?

There are few secrets between you and Namjoon, except your respective sex lives have been staunchly off-limits. Namjoon could be a virgin for all you know, and as you study him—the way he keeps bobbing his leg, the slight shake in his hands—you wonder if that’s the reason he’s being so weird about this.

It’s just a story.

Fiction.

Most people don’t have to worry about someone writing stories about them fucking their friends. If they do, you reckon even less actually read them. So, sure, it’s a little strange, but people from all over the world send in stranger stuff all the time, don’t they? It’s literally the reason you’re in this predicament.

Eventually Jungkook agrees. His whining has gotten him nowhere, so he just throws up his hands. Posts a cryptic little “u guys won’t believe what the next patreon ep is lmao” that sends the internet into a frenzy. Doubles your Patreon numbers almost immediately, and both you and Namjoon do a good job of pretending the pressure isn’t overwhelming.

Jesus. You have to read explicit fanfiction about yourselves. On camera.

Namjoon gets caught up with work and isn’t available until the weekend, so you’re forced to sit with the nerves for a few days. Not too bad at first, but you’re nearly coming out of your skin by Thursday with the need to know. You’re well-versed in the world of fanfiction, but this is fanfiction about you: your name, your likeness, maybe even your personality.

What will they know of Namjoon, though?

Will they get it right, the way he looks with his jaw clenched? How impossibly deep his voice can go, both when it’s raspy with sleep and when he’s fully at ease? Will the Namjoon in the story be closer to the Namjoon you know, or the version of himself he presents to the public?

And you’ve known him a long time—long enough that there are few secrets between you, but you don’t know the most intimate parts. All the parts the internet loves to speculate on. All the little gaps that, apparently, need to be filled in by fanfiction.

Will they know what Namjoon looks like when he gets off?

No, you scold yourself, jerking awkwardly like you’ve been burned, and neither will you.

Because you are not going to think about this. Your thoughts are not going to go there. Namjoon is your friend, and you’ve listened to him scold an endless amount of men on the podcast for exactly this behavior. Sexualizing their friends. You’re not going to do it, too.

Maybe that’s why you’re kind of seeing double when it comes time to record. Namjoon needed an extra shot and offered you one as well. You’d necked it without a second thought and now you’re here, trying to ignore the slight tilt of the room as Namjoon adjusts the camera.

“How’s the shot look?” he asks, gesturing vaguely behind him at his laptop screen because Jungkook had refused to lend you his fancy cameras if he wasn’t allowed to be involved.

It’s a completely normal question.

It’s a question you’ve asked and answered a million times.

Except—there’s something horribly distracting about Namjoon in this moment. The outline of his back muscles through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. The way the sleeves are tight around his biceps. He’s always been a gym rat, always carries around a protein shake that smells and looks completely foul, but you can’t remember it ever being this obvious.

And you take too long to answer, because Namjoon straightens up just enough to send you a concerned look. Which does not help. You are not imagining what else might cause his brows to pinch like that, what might have his lips parting, have sweat dotting his hairline.

You swallow. Hard.

“Looks fine,” you manage to say. He’s still staring. Are you on fire? You feel like you’re on fire, which would make sense. Would explain Namjoon’s sweating and concerned stare and the fact that he cannot stop staring at you. “Maybe a tiny bit to the right if we’re being picky,” you tack on, hoping it’ll break whatever spell the two of you are ensnared in.

It works. “To the—the right, yeah, makes sense,” he rambles.

He moves it an inch to the left.

—

Things are tense, to say the least.

Recording hasn’t been this awkward since your first episode, or maybe ever. You’re sat across from one another like you always are, and usually Namjoon would be making quip after quip by now, talking endlessly until Jungkook shushed him long enough to get the intro filmed. Now, there’s just silence.

“Should we…?” Namjoon startles. Bangs his knee on the underside of the table and drops a string of curses. “Sorry, are you—”

“I’m fine,” he says, cutting you off. He gestures vaguely toward the camera. “I’ll just… yeah.”

Showtime.

You wipe your hands on your jeans, unsure of when they got so damp. Unsure of when you’d grown so nervous, too, because you’d been fine an hour ago. Had strolled in with two cups of tea and a little too much confidence, giddy at what you were about to do.

Maybe the nerves had shown up alongside the alcohol. This sounds reasonable, and you do not, under any circumstance or for any reason, think about Namjoon’s back. Or his biceps.

Namjoon makes it through the intro, dimples deep and wide as he smiles, and you also don’t think about the way his voice cracks and gets a little breathy when he introduces you. It’s only because he’d been drinking, and the flush on his cheeks attests to that. The same flush that creeps down his neck, still a little sweaty; disappears beneath the hemline of his shirt.

“—Jungkook had. Right, Piper?”

Now it’s your turn to startle, and there’s not much you can do to hide the obvious except ask Namjoon to redo the shot. Because it’s bad enough the internet already overanalyzes every move you make, every word choice, every instance you’ve stared at Namjoon a second longer than they thought you would—this is a blatant display of… affectedness.

“Sorry,” you say, “I wasn't paying attention. Can we redo it?”

You’re expecting a playful scolding. A ha ha, get it together, because that’s what you usually get. But there’s nothing aside from Namjoon studying you and nodding. Asking if you’re okay. Saying, “Is this—this is weird, right? Is it too weird? Maybe we shouldn’t—”

An out. Namjoon is giving you an out, and you should take it, you know you should take it, so there’s absolutely no reason at all you shake your head and say, “No, no, it’s fine! I think I’m just a little, uh. Drunk?”

“Are you sure? We can—”

“It’s fine, Joon,” you insist. “Besides, it’ll be good content, right?”

“Good content,” he parrots. “Yeah, for sure.” He fidgets in his seat, runs his hands down the span of his thighs. Very, very thick thighs. “I’ll grab us some water.”

You faceplant onto the table as soon as he’s out of the room. When did his thighs get so thick?

But the water helps. Cures whatever strange, insatiable thirst has come over you, because you feel much more human after a few glasses. Less drunk, too, which makes sense. Yoongi could barely escape your drunken, horny wrath when the two of you were together, so you chalk it up to a Pavlovian response.

Namjoon does the intro again. Introduces you strong and steady, not a hint of nerves, and explains, with a fresh blush taking over his upper body, what the episode’s going to be about. “Someone wrote fanfiction about us,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s, uh, pretty explicit. Jungkook thought it’d be funny if we read it.”

You snort. “He might get fired, depending on how this goes.”

“He should get fired regardless,” Namjoon deadpans. “Anyway, we have permission from the author to read this so don’t come after us, and, as always, we’ll put all the credits in the video description.”

“Special shoutout to Jungkook, though, who was not allowed to be here with us for this momentous occasion.”

Namjoon laughs. “I’m sure he’s having plenty of fun at home.” You both pause. “That’s not—I’m not implying anything with that! I just meant—you know, like. He’s hanging out and enjoying his day off.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Moving on. I have two copies of this. Do you want your own?”

You grin, wicked and wide. “Nah, just read it to me.”

“Making me do all the work,” he huffs. “Typical.”

“There’s a stack of papers in front of you that might say otherwise.”

It’s clear you catch him off-guard. He cocks an eyebrow, opens and shuts his mouth a few times like a goldfish. An obvious question sits on the tip of his tongue: You think you’d be in charge? Instead he coughs, jerks his head to the side, and says, “I guess we’ll see.”

It sounds like a challenge.

Thirty seconds is all you get before Namjoon’s shuffling his stack of papers and clearing his throat. Asking if you’re ready and jumping right into it once you say you are. Reads the first few lines like they’re some old lecture notes, and they’re conservative and safe-for-work enough that you start to relax.

And then Namjoon reads, “A louder one wonders if Namjoon is a pet name person—if he’d call her ‘honey,’ or ‘gummy bear,’ ‘babe,’ or ‘baby,’” and you choke.

“Gummy bear?”

Namjoon laughs along with you—the weird one that almost sounds like a dog panting. “You want me to call you gummy bear?”

“I want you to call me a Lyft,” you snark. “I’m leaving.”

He continues:

And that’s how it starts, wandering thoughts, wandering fingers—the first time Piper comes to the thought of Namjoon calling her baby, pushing inside her, showing her that he definitely doesn’t beg, but she does… Well, she’s a little ashamed. She’s apparently got a reputation to maintain, anyway, not to mention a friendship.

His eyes leave the paper and lock onto you. “Or maybe you’d prefer baby?”

“Fuck off.”

Weeks after that first time, it’s become a habit, thinking about Namjoon as something more than a friend. It’s confusing and a little mortifying and it’s starting to affect her in ways she hadn’t expected. When they record, she feels fidgety—she’s jumpy when he gets close, has all the stupid obvious tells of an unwanted crush: her breath hitches when he whispers (why the fuck is he whispering in her ear, anyway? Doesn’t he know what that does to a person?) inside jokes to her so Jungkook can’t hear, her heart rate spikes when their fingers accidentally brush, she feels itchy and hot and a little embarrassed whenever he holds eye contact with her. It’s terrible, and it’s only made worse by the way he’s doing all of those things more than usual. Or, at least she thinks he is, thinks she’s not imagining the way his eyes linger on her more than she can remember happening before or the way she’s caught him staring at her lips when she chews on the end of her pencil mindlessly.

You’ve completely forgotten how to breathe.

Namjoon’s staring again. You need to salvage this. He’s only on paragraph three and you’re already squirming in your chair and imagining things that are not appropriate. So you roll your lips, return his teasing. “Well? Do you stare at my lips?”

It works. “No,” he scowls.

“You sure?” you joke, morphing your face into something half-pout, half-duck face.

“We’re never gonna finish this if you keep making comments.”

“You started it,” you point out. “Go on, then.”

There’s some dialogue. Some prose that hits way too close to home, has you wondering who on earth wrote this and how they plucked every single thought from deep within your psyche. A pang of fear that maybe you haven’t been as subtle as you’d thought all these years. A moment to confirm to yourself that, no, you haven’t been harboring a secret, deeply-buried crush on Namjoon.

Then he reads—

And then he kisses her. It’s greedy and hot, his lips like a branding iron. She moans a little against her better judgment when he licks at the seam of her mouth, and in return, she can feel Namjoon’s lips curve into a smile against her own. It’s better than she’d been imagining it, really. He’s a good kisser—firm at the right times, soft when she needs it, careful but not cautious. He holds her jaw with one hand and keeps her right where he wants her beneath him (as if she’d want to move, anyway). When their lips finally part, he rests his forehead on hers. It’s intimate in a way she hadn’t expected, and he looks at her as if she’s the answer to every question. Finally, he whispers, “What’re we doing, Piper?” His lips are still wet and pink and a little swollen from kissing, and she barely hears the question—she’s too busy thinking about kissing him again, about pulling his plump bottom lip between her teeth, teasing and… “Kissing,” she says finally. “What do you want?” he asks, sinking to his knees in front of her. And if that alone isn’t an answer to his question… “Whatever you’re willing to give,” she replies. It feels like she’s wanted this forever, this and so much more. Once she got the idea in her head, it’s hard to know if she ever felt differently, ever truly thought they could just be friends. Or, if in the back of her mind, in the dark corners that she never lets see daylight, she always knew she wanted Namjoon. Always knew she loved him.

—and everything goes right out the fucking window.

Namjoon sits with those words for a moment. Scans the paper in his hands and frowns a little when he confirms what you already know. “The rest is, uh. Porn.”

“That is why we’re here.”

“Last chance to back out.”

“I’m not scared,” you lie. “Are you? You’re the one who keeps stalling.”

He huffs. “You’re a pain in my ass,” he retorts, and then nothing is all that funny anymore.

Because Namjoon was right: the rest is straight-up porn. He’s barely able to read the part where he goes down on you with a straight face, turning a deep shade of crimson. Stutters through the part where you pull his hair, and that is not something you needed to know about your friend. You think he loses his grasp of language entirely when he reads, “When he slides a long finger into her and brushes past her most sensitive spot, she arches into him and lets his name fall from her lips in a soft cry. Piper, notorious skeptic, is a babbling, trembling mess as she gets closer to her orgasm,” because all the words are garbled together, producing nothing but gibberish. You think he’s ready to keel over and die when he reads, “Namjoon pulls away briefly, lips slick with her juices, and licks over his top one, pausing to tell her how good she tastes before he dives back in.”

“That was nice of them to include. I appreciate their attention to detail in regards to my personal hygiene.”

“This is so embarrassing,” he whines.

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Gimme. I’ll finish it.” He hands over the papers immediately.

Except you regret it immediately. The words you’re staring at are not words you ever thought you’d read or recite in your entire life. Not even for a million dollars. “Oh,” you say instead.

“See? Not as easy as it looks.”

“This is really embarrassing,” you confirm. “I might need another shot.”

“Y-yeah. Alcohol sounds good.”

Namjoon staggers forward obligingly, looks completely fucked out and pliant, willing to do whatever she asks. She remembers the sounds he made when she pulled his hair, wonders if he likes being bossed around, if he wants her to tell him what to do, to be a little mean to him. Maybe it’s different from her dreams, maybe he will beg her. She wants him so badly, she’d do anything for him. So, she pulls his briefs down to expose his absurdly large member, already mostly hard, and slaps it. Gently at first to see how he’ll react, and when he shudders and jerks his hips, she does it again, a little harder. “Look at you,” she whispers, “such a needy boy.” He whimpers at that, eyes pleading. “Please, Piper…” he whines. “Please what?” “Please let me fuck you,” he begs. She wants to, wants him so much, wants to feel him stretch her open, and from the looks of his cock, thick and long and drooling with precum, he could. “Should I?” she asks. She musters all her confidence to keep the condescending tone up. It feels wrong given how desperate she is to get him inside her, but it also seems to be getting him worked up and equally as desperate. “Do you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?” Namjoon’s cock twitches, and he begs, “I—I’ll fuck you so good, Piper…. I know how, I promise. Just… please?”

“Oh my god,” the two of you say in unison.

You so badly want to ask if this is biographical. How Namjoon feels about a little degradation; what he’d do if someone actually called his cock stupid. Ifsomeone has called his cock stupid. You dare a glance at him and conclude that someone’s had to. Namjoon just has that kind of energy.

But you can’t ask because it’d be weird, so you keep reading.

“How do you want me?” she asks softly when their lips part. There’s a wild look in his eyes, like he’s processing all the possible options out of everything he’s considered. And then it occurs to her. “Have you imagined this before? Thought about how you’d fuck me?” she teases him as she stands, stepping into him. Piper pushes one hand through his hair, brushing it back off of his forehead and wraps her other around his dick, squeezing a little for emphasis on her words. “Yes,” he groans as she strokes him, thumbing at the head of his cock. “Tell me what you want, then. Want me on all fours for you? Want me to show you how it’s done, to let you lay back and ride you so you don’t have to put in any work?” Namjoon’s breathing is getting heavy, pupils blown wider with each suggestion.

“I told you!” you shriek, laughing in between the words. “I told you I’d…” And then your gloating tapers off, because what happens next has your brain malfunctioning.

“All of that,” he whines as she lets go of his hair and brings her hand down to run a fingertip over his perineum. “Want all of that. Want to bend you over the table and fuck you right here. Hear your sounds in the microphone.” Even in her dirtiest thoughts about him, she hadn’t considered the microphone, hadn’t considered recording it. When she thinks about it though, it makes sense. Namjoon is exactly the kind of person that would get off to someone’s voice. So, she does. She makes a show of turning around and slowly bending over the table, sliding her upper body across it carefully until she can reach her microphone and turn it on. When she says into it, “What’re you waiting for?” she sees over her shoulder the way that Namjoon shivers.

This is… not good. You’re never going to be able to look at a microphone the same way, which is extremely not good for a person who supplements their income with a very popular podcast that requires them to speak into a microphone for extended periods of time.

This is very, very bad.

Namjoon must be thinking the same, because he lets out a strangled a-haaa that’s less of a laugh and more a plea to God, the gods, the entire gamut of higher powers that might be able to save him. No one’s going to, you think, staring down at the paper again. This godless piece of fanfiction will be preserved on the internet forever, will be seared into your mind forever, and no amount of praying is going to erase it.

“I should, uh. Just read the rest, yeah? Get it over with?”

“Mhm. Yep. Yes, please.”

Don’t say please, you almost say. You can’t take it; not after what you’ve just read.

So you put on a show. Steel your expression and your nerves and take it seriously. Use voices and sound effects and desperately try to stave off the awkwardness you know is inevitable because a smut fic is probably only going to end one way, and that’s with you acting out Namjoon having an orgasm.

Maybe you’ll have another one, too, if the author is nice.

It’s sweet, she thinks, the way he’s easy for her, takes his time with her. Strokes his fingertips along her sides and kisses the back of her neck reverently. As much as she loves it, part of her hopes he’s not always like this—hopes he’ll give as good as he takes, hopes he’ll put her in her place. She can feel his cock hard against the cleft of her ass, not even inside her yet, and still, she thinks about next time and the time after that. “Still okay?” He breathes into her ear as his tip rubs against her cunt. “Yeah—want you, Joon.” “Never thought I’d hear you say those words.” “I never thought you’d record them,” she teases, eyes glancing up to the flashing light showing the mic picking up all of this as he starts his slow slide into her. Piper falls even further forward when he bottoms out, letting her forehead rest on the table. He’s whispering filth in her ear, about how he has something to prove, how she’ll never want anyone after this, how no one can fuck her the way he does. She hates that he’s right. Each stroke brings a new sensation: sparklers, butterflies, nerve endings on fire as he fucks into her and licks and sucks at her neck, her shoulders, her ear. Piper can’t even think, and this is what people mean when they talk about being fucked stupid, she decides. It’s perfect. Every time she thinks she’s getting close again, he changes something: fucks her a little shallower, moves his hips just a little, slows down, speeds up… It’s driving her crazy. “Come on,” she whines. “I’m so close…” At least she can tell he is, too. No longer able to sustain the dirty talk, he’s breathing heavily, letting out broken moans and sighs of her name. He’s moving rhythmically now, thrusts consistently faster. “Oh, fuck, Piper,” he groans, “Gonna cum.” One of his hands finds her clit and he rubs careful circles over her, bringing her to her peak along with him, no more teasing. When she comes, it’s with a loud moan into the studio mic, and that seems to be what tips Namjoon over the edge, too. His hips stutter into hers as he comes, her cunt clenching around him for what feels like forever.

You deserve an award, you think. An Oscar. You didn’t even groan when you had to read the word “cunt,” and that’s a feat in and of itself.

“Is it over?” Namjoon asks, words muffled by the hands covering his face.

“Not quite,” you answer. “There’s some aftercare, and at the end you ask if I’ll piss on you.”

Namjoon gags. “I asked you what—”

“Today’s episode has been brought to you by Stamps-dot-com—”

HOLY SHIT THE NEW PATREON EPISODE???????? Posted by u/pod-shipper 4 minutes ago NO WAY. NOOOOOOO FUCKING WAY DUDE THERE’S NO FUCKING WAY THEY DID THIS AS AN ACTUAL EPISODE WHAT THE FUCK WHAT HTE FUCK WHAT EHTU FKF DFGLKDG;L (+705) I wasn’t sure if they were messing around before, and I was quite critical of the “shippers,” but now I’m pretty convinced. (+423) ↳ we’ve been telling y’all for YEARS 😤 (+197) ↳ Glad you’ve seen the light, u/RandomAcorn2058! (+5) ↳ ugh. they weren’t messing around before and they aren’t messing around now. do you guys not listen to what they say? namjoon’s been dating, and piper got out of a six-year relationship just over a year ago. if they’ve had something going on for “years” that means they’re both cheaters, and that’s a really shitty thing to assume about them. not to mention it makes the entire point of the podcast moot. (-63) Why do you guys think Jungkook “wasn’t allowed” to be there? (+314) ↳ So they could fuck lmao it’s so obvious (+329) ↳ because it’s awkward af? would you wanna read porn about yourself w all your coworkers in the room? (+2) ↳ the “it’s awkward” excuse is sooooo lame he’s the one who found it and is the one who edited the episode, he’s gonna see it regardless. (+15) ↳ Tbh I’m more curious about how he even found it to begin with? Do they have a throuple thing going on? Like, why was he looking for smut fic about his bosses? (+38)

You do not get through recording unscathed.

You are very scathed. Perhaps the most scathed a person has ever been.

Jungkook texts the group chat sporadically throughout the week, cracking jokes and making memes at your and Namjoon’s expense which is par for the course and shouldn’t have you off-kilter, but something inside you feels deeply wrong. Feels like someone’s given you devastating news; feels like it used to back in uni when you knew you’d failed an exam and were just waiting to see how badly.

It both helps and doesn’t that the internet is so invested. All the clips Jungkook keeps posting have re-doubled your Patreon numbers, and jumping up a tax bracket never hurt anyone, you included. But all of those jokes and memes largely went unanswered by both you and Namjoon, still too close to the incident to find the humor in it from the other side.

The two of you had sex.

Not literally, of course, but you figure you might as well have with the way you’re feeling. The way you’re avoiding one another. Someone wrote a story about the two of you having sex and you both read it and something about that, days later, feels really fucking unsettling.

In a bad way? You aren’t sure. It’s not like you’re mad or upset or any other synonym. You just feel… off. Itchy from the inside out, and that’s far from the norm in your and Namjoon’s friendship. In all the years you’ve known one another, you’ve never once avoided each other, including the time you’d set him up with a close friend and he showed up 45 minutes late to their date and ghosted after.

(Unsurprisingly, that friendship had not lasted.)

Maybe it’s because Yoongi had always been there as a buffer. You aren’t of the belief that men and women cannot be platonic friends, but being in a years-long committed relationship nixed a lot of awkward interactions and assumptions off the bat. Even Namjoon had known Yoongi first. Had introduced himself to you in your shared 100-level psych course with a, “Hey, you’re Min Yoongi’s girlfriend, right?” because they ran in the same underground circles and Namjoon had idolized him from afar for years.

Pretty fucked up, then, that Yoongi’s off in Los Angeles with his hot new boyfriend and you’re on your couch, Holly at your feet, pointedly ignoring your texts.

“I’m gonna get a cat,” you say to the dog, trying to redirect his attention when he starts chewing on your sock again. Holly doesn’t offer any input, of course, and he’s a lot like his father in that way. “I can’t believe you have a stepfather. You’re a proper child of divorce now, Min Holly.”

There are a pile of unread texts you continue to ignore in lieu of showing Holly pictures of adoptable cats. A few more memes from Jungkook, one from Namjoon’s new phone asking to move the recording date a few days because “something came up at work,” one from the food delivery service you admittedly use too much offering 10% off your next order, and two from Yoongi. This reminded me of you, the first one says beneath a picture of an ice cream cone on the ground, and another one of him holding a water gun that says send me a picture of my son or else.

You eventually reply back with a picture of your middle finger, Holly nothing but a blurred brown blob in the corner of the frame.

That’s how it goes for the better part of a week. Namjoon’s work issue lasts four days. He doesn’t offer an explanation and you don’t ask for one, you just wait for the all-clear text and try to quiet the nerves once you get it.

You’ve never been nervous to see Namjoon before.

The more popular the podcast became, the more money rolled in. The more money that rolled in, the more you could afford nicer things. That meant going from recording in Namjoon’s living room to a bona fide office space. Third floor, an expanse of windows and natural light, thirty-five minute commute by train.

Today, it feels more like thirty-five seconds.

You can hear Jungkook’s witch cackle from the stairwell, and your mind fills in the blanks of Namjoon’s exasperated sigh. It helps, your brain reminding you that you know these people. You know this is Jungkook’s late gym day, so he’ll be in a pair of sweats and a hoodie that drowns his frame. You know that when Namjoon has work issues and feels like an inconvenience, he always shows up with two boxes of baked goods from the bakery near his place, and you know both of them will save the best donut for you.

So you walk in and Jungkook’s in a hoodie and sweats just like you expect him to be, and there are two boxes of baked goods next to the coffee machine. Both of them say hello and wave and, for all intents and purposes, everything is normal.

Except it isn’t.

Because Namjoon looks… different.

Not in a bad way. Not in a bad way. He almost always dresses nicely, always looks polished and put-together, usually because he’s either going to or coming from campus—fitted shirts, either of the tee or dress variety, and earth-toned cardigans; tailored trousers that are sometimes corduroy; polished loafers. Sometimes, if he’s feeling extra casual, a stark white pair of tennis shoes.

Today, he wears none of those things.

No, today torture comes in the form of form-fitting jeans and a t-shirt a little oversized so he can roll the sleeves. His hair is brushed back off his face instead of parted down the middle. He’s wearing gold jewelry that glints in the sun. A pair of off-white Converse high-tops. And, much to your horror, he’s also wearing his glasses.

According to the internet, Kim Namjoon is peak husband material, which you can usually ignore, but not when he’s wearing glasses.

You avert your gaze, convinced you’ll burst into flames if you stare too long, not to mention Jungkook will notice and that’s a ribbing you’d rather die than take. So you avert your gaze and pointedly ignore Namjoon, who’s talking about his work crisis to no one in particular. Something about a co-worker going on an unexpectedly early paternity leave, and Namjoon being asked to cover some of his courses until they could find a more permanent fix.

Jungkook asks a question you don’t catch. Because paternity leave means his co-worker and his partner had a baby, presumably via old-fashioned methods, and it’s not a direct mention of sex but it’s close enough to send you into a coughing fit you have to blame on your donut. Neither of them buy it, but Namjoon is a good enough person to look genuinely concerned. Reaches out, probably to slap your back, but the thought of him touching you is just… too much.

So he barely gets out an, “Are you o—” before you choke down whatever’s left in your mouth and cut him off with a, “Yep, all good!” before you’re scurrying off to the opposite side of the room like a little rat.

It doesn’t get any better.

Both of you are so stilted and awkward during recording that Jungkook has to be the voice of reason and call it, suggest trying again tomorrow. Luckily he has enough b-side stuff he can release if need be, Namjoon’s work emergency providing a decent cover, and he sends the two of you home for the afternoon with all the exasperation and incredulity of a disappointed parent.

Thirty-five minutes back home.

Thirty-five minutes to sit in the embarrassment of not being able to do your job. Thirty-five minutes to catastrophize and wonder what you’re going to do if you can’t get it together. Namjoon will keep the podcast, of course; you’ll be replaced with someone else. Maybe someone less cynical, maybe someone more, but undoubtedly a man. After this mess, you can’t imagine Namjoon would want another female co-host.

But as embarrassed as you are, your traitorous brain keeps thinking about Namjoon.

Thirty-five minutes to think about his glasses and his rolled-up sleeves and the way the denim of his jeans contoured perfectly to his thighs. Thirty-five minutes to think about, “Please let me fuck you,” he begs. Thirty-five minutes to squeeze your thighs together and overanalyze the way he stumbled over his words today; how he could barely make eye contact. Thirty-five minutes to draft a dozen resignation texts and delete them all.

You groan, head thunking against the train window. You’ll take a cold shower as soon as you get home.

That’ll cure you.

You get home and walk Holly so long he gives up halfway through and you have to carry him back to your apartment. You take a cold shower and actually find it pleasant once the initial shock wears off, so it doesn’t work to keep all your rogue Namjoon thoughts at bay. You make a simple dinner and don’t think about Namjoon sitting you on the counter and having his way with you. You tuck yourself into bed far too early and consider going back to therapy, because clearly something very, very bad has happened to your psyche.

Needless to say, nothing cures you.

But it’s a new day, and you’re determined to get your shit together. Yesterday was a fluke, because you’re so normal and so capable of being in the same room as Kim Namjoon.

Except—you’re not.

Jungkook’s there when you arrive, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Barely looks up at you to say hello, and barely returns it when you do. You double-check the time, because you can count on two fingers the amount of times you’ve shown up and Namjoon wasn’t already there, jotting down extensively-detailed notes, circling and highlighting and chasing down Jungkook to ask questions.

“Where’s Namjoon?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Dunno. Not here.”

You roll your eyes. “Super helpful, thanks.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes right back. “You don’t pay me enough to also be his handler.”

You bite your tongue. Arguing with Jungkook means you’ve already lost the war. Not worth it. But it still eases your worries a bit that he doesn’t know any more than you do. That Namjoon hadn’t only texted him to say why he was running late because he didn’t want to—or couldn’t—talk to you.

So you wait. And you wait and you wait and you wait. Jungkook lets you talk to people on his dating apps and tells you about his new gym routine until your eyes are glazing over. Orders food delivery for the two of you because he gets hungry after an hour and had already eaten what was left of the snacks before you arrived. Cracks a joke that isn’t really a joke about calling the police, because Namjoon still hasn’t shown up and he hasn’t said anything and none of your texts are showing as delivered.

You’re halfway to hour two when the office door bursts open and Namjoon stumbles through, soaked with sweat and stammering over apologies.

“I am so sor—I broke my phone again so my alarm never went off and then I missed my bus? And apparently they’re not running the regular bus schedule today so the next one was a half-hour wait, but then I…”

You don’t catch the rest, because Namjoon is covered in sweat and breathing heavily and a week ago you could’ve survived this. A week ago you would’ve cracked a joke and handed him a towel and told him to get to work. A week ago you would not have been paralyzed in your seat, transfixed on the sweat rolling down the side of his neck.

You are fucked beyond belief.

Jungkook elbows you in the ribs, bringing you back to reality. “...even paying attention?” You startle, face warming in embarrassment. Namjoon still isn’t looking at you. “This is so sad to watch,” Jungkook mumbles, and thankfully it’s only loud enough for you to hear. “Like some stupid shit you only see in nature documentaries.”

Well, you can’t really argue with that, now can you?

But you’re a professional above all, so you hum an acknowledgment and take your regular seat. Pointedly ignore Jungkook. Wait for Namjoon to assume his position as well, and you’re surprised to see the space in front of him empty. No notes. No script. There’s just… nothing.

“Are you okay?” you ask, gesturing to the space in front of him when he seems confused. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a stack of notes in front of you.”

“I forgot them.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that, either.”

Your tone is light and airy, not at all accusing or confrontational, but Namjoon’s jaw clenches nonetheless. He scoffs, fires a shitty little, “Were you not paying attention when I was talking about what a horrible fucking morning I’ve had?” at you that makes even Jungkook flinch. A few moments of stunned silence, and then, “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, that was rude—”

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, and all of a sudden you feel too big for your body. Feel like there are ants beneath your skin, feel like everything is wrong, and you don’t want to be here anymore. “It’s fine. Let’s just—”

Namjoon looks like he wants to argue, but he just sighs and says, “I—yeah, okay.”

This is where Namjoon would usually launch into the intro, a dimpled smile already plastered on his face that’d drop as he discussed another failed first date with that brand of self-deprecation that makes him so endearing. This is where he’d say what have you been up to, Pipe, and you’d try not to groan because how hard could it possibly be to add one more letter, another syllable, but Namjoon seems incapable of it. This is the part that, for three years, has been seamless and easy and instinctual, just two friends having a conversation.

There’s a red light on your microphones that indicates you’re recording. It’s on and it mocks you, because Namjoon is not doing the intro or telling you about a failed date. He doesn’t use that cringey nickname. He doesn’t say anything at all. His mouth opens and shuts and no words come out. What’s worse is that you know exactly why he can’t speak, because you’re thinking about it, too.

“So, uh,” you begin, and Jungkook makes a gagging sound from behind you. “Come here often?”

Namjoon ignores you. “Right, right, the intro…” He sucks in a breath. “Welcome back to another episode of Put Him in the Trash, I’m—”

“Joon—”

“Namjoon, and my co-host here is—”

“Joon, that’s not—”

“Piper. Wait, why are you looking at me like that?”

“That’s not the name of our podcast.”

“Huh?”

“You said Put Him in the Trash.” Namjoon just blinks. “It’s Place Him Gently in the Garbage.”

“Is it? Since when?”

“Since forever?”

He looks at Jungkook, who is hiding behind his hands. “Is she right?”

A beat of silence. “I can’t do this,” he half-shouts, half-whines. “Are you two going to be like this forever? Because if you are, I’m quitting. I’m so serious. I’m gonna quit. I can’t take it anymore. The two of you are insufferable.” Another beat of silence, before Jungkook stands at full height and lords over you and Namjoon. “Forget today. Just go home and try again on Monday. This is so—I’m seriously gonna quit.”

Yoongi comes on Saturday afternoon to pick up Holly.

Yijeong isn’t with him, which is almost disappointing. Now that he’s dating again, you were looking forward to seeing just how awkward it could get with the three of you in the same room, but he looks good. Refreshed. The trip clearly did a world of good for him, and you can’t even bring yourself to crack a joke at his expense.

He, however, has no such hang-ups. “You look like shit.”

“Weird way to say thank you.” You click your tongue and look down at Holly. “Do you see how your father treats me? You should bite him.”

“My son would never. But also, thank you.” He flops onto the sofa. “You do look like shit, though. You wanna talk about it?”

“Not with you, preferably.”

“Oh, gross, is it a dating thing, then?”

“I—no.” You pause. It’s not a dating thing, but you still feel like you’ve got motion sickness whenever you think about it. How would you even begin to explain this to Yoongi, anyway? Someone wrote a porn fic about me and Namjoon. You remember Namjoon, right? Namjoon, that I’ve known and have been friends with since college. Yeah, that Namjoon. Anyway, someone wrote fanfiction about us having sex, and it fucked me up so bad I can no longer be in the same room as him.

No fucking way.

“You look like you’re holding in a fart.”

“You know, I’m getting really sick of you. Did you just come here to insult me?”

He snorts, but his smirk dissipates a few seconds later, a familiar seriousness filling the void. “We’re okay, right? Was the Yijeong thing too soon?”

“No,” you answer immediately, leaning over to flick him on the forehead. “We’re fine, and if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.” He still looks doubtful. “You want me to start singing ‘I Will Always Love You’ or something? It’s just… weird work stuff.”

“Depends. Are you singing the Dolly Parton or Whitney version? And real work or podcast work?”

“Podcast work, and obviously the Whitney version.”

Yoongi seems surprised by this, eyebrows disappearing beneath his fringe. “Like, the podcast with Namjoon?” He presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek when you nod your head. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Like I said, it’s weird. It wasn’t, like, an argument or anything.”

“How weird?”

“You’re so fake, Min Yoongi. You act like you’re so distinguished and above drama, but really you’re just as hungry for gossip as the rest of us.”

He shrugs. “I’m not denying it.”

God help you, you’re going to rip off the band-aid. “Someone… Jesus, this is so embarrassing. Someone… wrote? Fanfiction? About us.”

“About you and Namjoon?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god—”

“About us… uh. Having sex? Specifically.”

“Oh my god—”

“Jungkook found it and thought it’d be funny if we read it for an episode.”

“Oh my god?”

“So we did? And it was really weird, which I expected, because I’ve known Namjoon for a long time, and I never, ever thought about having sex with him because we were together and me and Namjoon are friends, so yeah, it was fucking weird. But now… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about it? And now we can’t even be in the same room as one another.” Yoongi is a concerning shade of red. “So our show is gonna get canceled, because we can only release b-side stuff for so long until people realize something’s up, and it was Namjoon’s podcast to begin with so obviously I’ll get fired—”

“Oh my god, you want to fuck Namjoon.”

Yoongi sounds like a strangled cat when he says this, which does not help the way you feel like you’ve been hit square in the face with a frying pan. “No,” you argue, though it sounds more like a question. You do not want to fuck Namjoon. “No, no. No. It’s just because it was weird.”

“Did you forget I dated you for six years? I know what you look like when you want to fuck someone.”

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t be weird if someone wrote fanfiction about you fucking your friend?”

“Not if I didn’t actually want to fuck them, no.”

“You’re a liar. Get your dog and get out of my apartment.”

Yoongi laughs as he stands. Pats you on the back in the most condescending way you’ve ever had someone pat you on the back. “Let me know how it goes. No need to give me credit for your moment of horny clarity.”

Min Yoongi is a bastard.

Unfortunately, as you come to find out, he’s also a correct bastard.

You want to fuck Namjoon.

Which is… not great, you have to admit, considering he can barely stand to be around you, so you take another cold shower and decide you’re going to take this to your grave. You’re going to spend the rest of the weekend getting your shit together, and you’re going to show up on Monday and be a consummate professional. You’re going to look at Namjoon and say, ha ha, isn’t it so funny someone thought we would have sex? I don’t think about it at all because I am so cool and normal about it.

You’ve got it all planned out. You’re going to show up fifteen minutes early with your own box of pastries. You’re going to look nice, if not a little pretentious—maybe a nice sweater. You’re going to be prepared with notes of your own. You might even be nice to the villain of the week so Namjoon doesn’t have to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh at you.

And then someone knocks on your door.

You find Namjoon on the other side, and all your plans immediately go to shit.

Has he always been this tall? You can’t remember. You can’t remember a lot of things, including how to speak, because Yoongi had launched you into a crisis of epic proportions and now here’s the source of it, standing right in front of you. With all of his… height. And thighs. And that heady, musky cologne he always wears, that you can still smell now even though there’s an unfortunate amount of distance between you.

“Uh, hi.”

You blink. “Hi,” you parrot, and it’s a little insulting how one single word seems to have sucked up all of your brainpower. “Namjoon,” you tack on, not awkward at all.

“Sorry to just show up,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. Very bad idea; makes his biceps bulge. You barely swallow your whimper. “It’s just—my phone’s still broken, and it felt bad leaving things how we did? So I was hoping we could talk.”

Talk. Namjoon wants to talk to you. Normally: not a problem. Currently: big problem. You manage a nod, open the door wider to let him in, and you don’t think about how jarring it is to have Namjoon in your space. You don’t think about how your legs feel like jelly all of a sudden, or what it’d be like if Namjoon bent you over the couch, or the kitchen counter, or the—

You cough. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Oh, sure. Maybe just some water if you have it.”

If you have it. What kind of person doesn’t have water? But you tell him to make himself comfortable and get him some anyway, and you mull too long over the size of the glass. Ultimately decide on a smaller one, because if things get unbearably awkward you can excuse yourself to the kitchen to get more.

“I haven’t been here in a while,” Namjoon says from the living room, and when you look up he’s sorting through a stack of books near the window. Some he’d lent you months ago, notes jotted in the corners, sticky notes in the shape of sea animals on important pages. “You ever wind up reading this?”

The Idiot. Namjoon had raved about it when he was in the midst of his 19th century Russian phase, right after he’d read a bunch of Tolstoy and Pushkin. You shake your head—though, judging from the title, you wonder if someone hadn’t written your biography.

“It’s good. If you have the time, you should definitely give it a shot.”

“Yeah, of course,” you say, handing over his water. You take a seat in an armchair, pull your knees to your chest. Namjoon’s still looking through your books, isn’t looking at you, so it feels safe to say, “You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” He moves to sit on the floor, massive thighs spreading until he’s comfortable. Thank god he can’t see the look on your face. “I just wanted to make sure we’re alright. Things have felt pretty weird since we filmed the, uh.” He coughs. “Thing.”

“Right, yeah.” You realize he’s waiting for an answer, and you offer up a very rushed, “We’re fine, Joon.”

“Are you sure?”

Yeah, you’re sure: sure you absolutely cannot be having this conversation in the safety and sanctity of your own home. It’s tainted now, contaminated by all your uncontrolled horny thoughts about the man in front of you. You’ll have to fumigate. Might have to pick up and move, actually, or call an exorcist.

“I’m sure,” you assure him. “The… thing… was weird, but it’s fine. Temporary.”

“Do you think we shouldn’t have done it?”

That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Because, in isolation, reading a porn fic about yourselves wasn’t a big deal. No one got hurt. Everyone who needed to be consulted was consulted. The episode made the two of you a lot of money, and Jungkook even promised to send some of it to the author, so your bases are beyond covered.

So, should you have done it? There wasn’t a good enough reason not to, because the story itself was never the problem.

The problem is staring you right in the face. It’s sitting on your floor, a book cracked in half at the spine and forgotten in his lap. The problem is looking at you like you hold all the answers to the universe’s secrets, and it’s no small thing to be looked at like that. The problem is that Namjoon is looking at you like that from across the room but you’re wondering what it’d look like from on top of you.

The problem is that you’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, have known him even longer, and you’ve just realized today that you want to have sex with him.

And you can’t say that, can you, because Namjoon came here to fix things which really does not lend itself to a hookup. Namjoon cares about your friendship and your working relationship so much he came here to try and salvage it, so you��re going to keep your mouth shut. You’re going to say, “I think it’s okay that we did,” and leave it at that. Because it is okay.

Because you’re the problem.

It feels like a small victory when Namjoon sags in relief. When he exhales and says, “Okay, good, because I think so, too.”

“It made us a lot of money,” you tack on.

Namjoon’s eyes widen as he laughs. “Right? Like, that was almost too much money. Just to watch us read porn?”

“About ourselves. I think that was the selling point.”

He stands. You do, too. “Never thought I’d be doing that,” he says, returning the book to where it belongs. “Definitely the most embarrassing thing I’ve done for money.”

“Being a man with a podcast wasn’t embarrassing enough?”

He snorts. Gets closer to the door. “Hey now.” You’re going to survive this. “Thanks for entertaining me, by the way. For a second there I was really worried we’d fucked it all up.”

Just the ending. Just one more thing to say and you’ll be done with this, and then you can take your third cold shower in recent memory and triple text Yoongi with a full-fledged mental breakdown. Maybe he’ll bring Holly back and you can register him as your emotional support animal.

And Namjoon must sense the awkwardness that’s crept back in, because he tries to cover it with a joke. Says, “Haaa, like you’d actually piss on me, right?”

Except it sounds like he’s got a mouth full of marbles.

It’s no wonder you mishear him.

Because he says like you’d actually piss on me but you hear like you’d actually kiss me, and there isn’t a universe that exists in which the following makes sense: you, stunned into silence in the doorframe, Namjoon saying his goodbyes, you thinking fuck it, last chance and saying, “Yeah, I’d kiss you.”

Namjoon stops dead in his tracks. “What?”

Your entire body is on fire. “Is, uh. Is that not what you said?”

“I don’t think it matters anymore what I said.”

“I’d argue that it does, for the sake of my digni—”

“You’d kiss me?” Namjoon… doesn’t look put off of the idea, which is surely a point in your favor. Interesting to note that his diction is crystal clear, now. Bastard. “You’d kiss me right now?”

There’s also no explanation for the way you say: “It’s only been an option for ten seconds and you’re already begging for it?”

You’d say there’s no explanation for the way Namjoon’s jaw clenches, the way he repeats I don’t beg for anything, but maybe the simple fact is: the two of you want to fuck each other. And, judging from the way Namjoon crowds your space, keeps dropping his gaze to your mouth, it seems very likely to happen.

All that fixating you’d done on Namjoon’s thighs was wasted, you think, as you take in the shape of his mouth. His lips. The way his tongue darts out to run along the bottom at the last second before he reaches out, tilts your head up, and finally presses his mouth to yours.

And you’ve got to laugh, because no piece of written fiction could ever accurately portray what it feels like. How soft his lips are. The way he touches you—gentle, but still dominant enough to have you moving the way he wants, have you backing up into your apartment so he can smile against your mouth as he closes the door behind him.

No piece of fiction would get it right, the way you’re unsteady on your feet, breathless at the way Namjoon’s kissing you. How he only breaks apart long enough to ask where do you want me in that throaty, deep voice of his. How you’re so overwhelmed you can’t decide: unsure if you want to waste the time it’d take to get to your bedroom, but if it’s only going to happen once, wanting to make it count.

So you decide to risk it. Plant your hands in the middle of his exceptionally broad chest and push him in the direction of the hallway, and if the two of you can’t wait, can’t control yourselves, well.

But the story had gotten one thing right: Namjoon does kiss like a branding iron, hot and greedy. Namjoon kisses you like there’s nothing else he wants to do in this lifetime, and it makes you dizzy. Has you off-kilter, stumbling into the wall as you try to remember where the fuck your bedroom is and why it’s so far. Just like the fictional version of you, you also moan when he licks into your mouth.

“Should I do it the way we did in the fic?” Namjoon asks as the two of you cross the threshold into your bedroom, a cheeky grin on his face. “Do it like this?” he questions, pushing you gently until you’re on the back in the middle of your bed, chest heaving as you lift your head to look at him.

Namjoon is so, so big from where you lay, just hovering at the foot of your bed. Cheeks ruddy, bulge prominent. “What’d you say you wanted?”

Takes a second to remember how to breathe, let alone what you’d read. What do you want, Namjoon had asked, right before he’d sank to his knees in front of you. “Whatever you’re willing to give,” you answer.

Namjoon smiles. Puts one knee on the bed, and the way it dips beneath his weight is unsettling. Why does he have to be so fucking large. “That’s right, baby.” Christ, you think, because there’s another thing that fic had gotten right. No one on earth would be immune to Namjoon calling them baby in that tone of voice.

The riposte biting at the back of your teeth gets swallowed whole as Namjoon grabs your ankles and drags you to the edge of the bed. “May I?” he asks, hands poised above the waistline of your leggings. You nod, and Namjoon drags down your underwear with them. “Fuck, look at you,” he groans, awe creeping into the edge of his words.

“You want me to do it the same way? Hm? You’re being awfully quiet; thought you were giving me shit about being the one in charge,” he chides.

Because you’re short-circuiting. Namjoon’s on his knees, just like you’d envisioned, and his mouth is dangerously close to your cunt. How can you be expected to think and speak under these conditions? But if Namjoon can find the brainpower to be a bastard, so can you, because what you’d read and the way he’d reacted can both never be forgotten. So you thread your hands into his hair and pull. The resulting moan is enough to sustain you for years.

“Are you gonna keep running your mouth, or are you gonna make me come on it?”

He blinks. “Jesus Christ.”

There’s precedent. Fictional Namjoon ate you out like a man starved, like he couldn’t get enough. Had fictional you writhing and insatiable, so it’s a lot to live up to, but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest. He hesitates for only a second, giving you one last chance to back out before the two of you set every last boundary on fire, and then he’s settling between your thighs and making you see stars.

Now you know what it’s like. Now you don’t have to rely on fiction, and it doesn’t matter because it’d never compare to the way Namjoon feels as he works to bring you to your ruin. The way he flattens his tongue to lick long, thick stripes; the way his lips suction around your clit. The way it feels when he groans against your core. The way he says, “Fuck, you do taste good,” like that’s a completely normal thing to say. Like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to you.

But you need more and Namjoon knows it. His mouth doesn’t leave your cunt for a second, but his fingers find your mouth, so you put on a show. Wrap your lips around them, suck on them the way he’s doing to you, make sure they’re slick. Namjoon groans again, doubles his efforts. Slides one thick finger inside of you and barely lets you adjust before he’s adding a second.

In an embarrassingly short amount of time, Namjoon has you unraveling. Presses incessantly on a spot that has your vision whiting out. Has you trembling, a little panicked as you say, “Joon, fuck—Namjoon, wait—” as it builds and builds and builds.

You might black out for a second, because you come to and Namjoon looks… stunned. He looks like he can’t believe any of what just happened, and you blink a few times, try to come back into your body, and when you regain enough consciousness, you’re extremely aware of the large wet patch beneath you.

“Um—”

“Holy shit.”

“Namjoon, that’s not—that’s embarrassing—can you grab a—”

He shuts you up with a kiss. Presses the taste of you into your skin, and all those silly protests die in your throat, because if Namjoon was needy before, he’s desperate now. Covers your body with his own, hips dipping down low enough to press his erection into the juncture of your thigh, and the weight of him is delicious. Has you fisting the fabric of his t-shirt to pull him closer, has you pulling it over his head, his pants following. Has your hands skimming down every thick part of his body until you reach his cock, hard and aching and slick with pre-cum.

“I need to suck you off later,” you say, done with overthinking. Time to just be honest, and Kim Namjoon has a dick you need to feel down your throat. “Remind me.”

He whines, thrusts into your hand a little harder. “How could I forget that?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t know if this would be the only time,” you answer. “Did you bring a condom?” Namjoon nods, fetches one from his wallet and rolls it on.

He hovers above you again. Looks nervous, all of a sudden, like he can’t tell his lefts from his rights. All out of sorts. You’re about to tell him it’s fine, you don’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to, don’t have to do anything at all, when he says, “It doesn’t have to be.” You just stare. “The only time.”

There’s a conversation to be had. You know that. Both of you clearly have feelings you need to talk about and sort out, but you reckon they can wait. They’ll still be there in the afterglow, in the morning. So you nod, say okay, Joon, and kiss away the insecurities that still linger.

You think about the fic. Think maybe Namjoon would appreciate it if you cracked a stupid joke, just like he’d tried to do earlier. “Has anyone ever called your cock stupid?”

He laughs, breath fanning against your skin. “No. Wanna try it and see what happens?”

Might as well. You try to remember the exaggerated tone of voice you’d used. Repeat the line—“Do you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?”—and wait.

There’s a beat of silence, and then—

Namjoon swallows thickly. “I, um. Unfortunately, I think that really works for me.” You laugh. Pull him closer. Wrap your legs around his waist as he starts to move against you. Has jokes of his own. “Please. Please let me fuck you.”

You roll your eyes, laugh tapering into a giggle. “Do you know how?” Namjoon nods, looking all too much like a puppy eager to please its owner. “Do you promise?” He nods again. “Okay. Okay, come here.”

You expect him to move fast; expect the first time to be frenzied and a little awkward. It isn’t. Namjoon lines himself up and pushes the smallest bit inside, and then he’s leaning down to kiss you. Threads your fingers together, squeezes your hand. Pushes further inside and mumbles praise just beneath your ear.

It’s dizzying, the amount of care Namjoon handles you with. How soft he is. Does nothing to ease the discomfort of the stretch, the overwhelming fullness, but he talks you through it. Tells you how good you feel, how beautiful you look. Spills a lot of words you’d probably be embarrassed to hear and he’d be embarrassed to say if this was any other time, but in the heat of the moment it all just works to unravel you faster.

He bottoms out. “Okay?” he asks, and you’re rewarded with a dimpled smile when you say you are. Namjoon is a devastating kind of beautiful.

But, as he gives you time to adjust and you give him the all-clear, he also fucks like a demon. What once was hand-holding is now your wrists pinned to the bed, your body caged beneath him as he rolls his hips at a pace that has your eyes rolling back into your head. You’ve been deceived. Lured into a false sense of security.

It’s almost a shame this isn’t being recorded, because you want to memorize all the sounds Namjoon’s making. Want to hear them for the rest of your life. Don’t want anyone else to be the reason he sounds like this, and as he ups his pace and presses his lips to your neck, you don’t want to sound like this because of anyone else, either.

Maybe one of those times in the future, you can talk him into it.

Namjoon reaches down, rubs circles into your clit. Every time you think you might be close, he pulls his hand away, smiles like the devil. You let him have his fun for a while, let him think you’re keen to lie back and take it, and then you tighten your legs around his waist and flip him onto his back.

He doesn’t think it’s very funny. Looks up at you all bewildered. “What’re you—”

“You were taking too long,” you snark. “Figured I’d take matters into my own hands.”

“Yeah? Shit,” he says as you begin to move. “Fuck, baby, like that. Ride me just like that.”

You do. Don’t change a thing, because Namjoon’s cock is long and thick enough to hit exactly where you need it to. You can feel yourself clenching, feel yourself getting wetter, and the sight of Namjoon beneath you does nothing to stave off the inevitable. He looks even better than you’d imagined: skin flushed, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, sweat-slick. You want to make him cry. Want to give him the entire world. You will.

Namjoon thrusts at the same time you roll your hips, and that’s what does it. Has you crying out, has stars flashing behind your eyelids. Has you saying fuck, fuck, fuck as he drives you over the edge for the second time. Has you on the brink of oversensitive as he thrusts a few more times to chase his own end, almost delirious at the way Namjoon moans as he spills into the condom.

Has you swooning, just a bit, at the dopey way Namjoon smiles at you, eyes half-lidded and crinkled at the corners.

“Was that okay?”

You snort. “Yeah, I’d say it was decent.”

“Maybe next time you could pee on me,” he jokes.

You whack him on the chest. “Sure. Or we could record it.”

Has you a little shocked at the way his cock twitches inside of you at the mention of it.

On Monday, you don’t wear a pretentious sweater.

When you stroll in, Jungkook’s already got the best donut shoved halfway into his mouth because he’s a shithead. He eyes you warily, probably hoping with all his hope that you spent the weekend finding God and getting your shit together.

And then he realizes you’ve got on Namjoon’s hoodie and he nearly chokes to death.

“What the fuck are you wearing—”

Namjoon appears at that very moment, and it’s so hard not to take credit for the way he’s glowing, the dazed smile on his face. But Jungkook notices, because Jungkook notices everything, and his gaze darts between the two of you: your hoodie, Namjoon’s face, your face. He opens his mouth, something inappropriate bound to spill out, but Namjoon beats him to the punch. “Ready?” he asks you, and you nod.

It’s seamless.

No hiccups, no awkward stuttering. Namjoon gets through the intro without a hitch, and it feels exactly like it used to. Just two friends having a conversation. It’s obvious Jungkook still wants to say something, but after suffering through last week, he stays quiet lest he makes it worse and sends the two of you back to the bad place.

“How was your weekend, Pipe? Do anything fun?” Namjoon rolls his lips, tries not to laugh.

So you play along. “No, not really, just some dog sitting. How about you?”

“Oh, you know me. Had another first date on Saturday.”

“Did you? How’d it go?”

“Perfect.”

It’s a blessing Jungkook isn’t filming this, because your eyebrows raise so far they nearly disappear from your face altogether. There isn’t even a hint of hesitation in Namjoon’s voice, and although you would’ve described it the same way, hearing him say it with such conviction has you a little stunned. “Wow. You gonna see her again?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says, sharing a private smile with you. “I think I am.”

who the FUCK is namjoon dating Posted by u/pod-shipper 7 minutes ago This has honestly ruined my entire day. I thought all the stories he told about dating were a bit… Like, what kind of guy has a podcast about relationships but can’t seem to be in one? But you could just HEAR it in his voice how much he likes this woman he went on a date with over the weekend and I’m sick to my stomach. (+2195) ↳ bro you and me both 😭 i genuinely thought him and piper had something going on fr (+1302) ↳ Seriously might stop listening because of this! Any woman with self-respect would never let their partner host a podcast with someone they’re obviously in love with. If he gets serious with this woman, Piper will be gone within 6 months, mark my words. (+927) ↳ I wouldn’t worry about it too much! My cousin works at a really nice restaurant in the same city Namjoon lives in, and she said she saw this “date” on Saturday and that it wasn’t anything serious. (+788) ↳ Piper got a cat and Namjoon finally got a second date. Face it, it’s over. (+325) ↳ cannot believe him and piper aren’t dating.. do you think i should delete all my tiktok edits? (+4) ↳ this is unhinged lmfao i thought y’all hated piper? you’re in here bitching abt her being a “misandrist” every week and now ur gonna stop listening bc namjoon isn’t dating her? pick a lane and stay in it (-64)

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts, and reblogs/shares are always welcome! I appreciate you very much~ ♡

#namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jewel writes

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beefboyandbabygirl · 1 year

Text

Girl Code (18+)

pairing: student!jihoon x student!reader

genre: college au, angst, smut (MDNI), lotta crack, friends to...?

description: when you and your friends find out jihoon's been writing down everything you've off-handedly said about "girl code", you simply have to know why.

warnings: brief bondage/restraint, heavy insecurity on readers part, self-doubt, dirty talk, pet names, dom!uzi, sub!reader, desperation, oral (f. receiving), praise (f. receiving), muscly uzi, unprotected sex (dont do it guys....), pining, bad writing, red velvet are your friends, theyre super fun, mingyu is excluded badly, he just wants to b a part of it :(

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "i am simply a hole for him", "pussy? wet. heart? pounding. me? yearning", "every1 talks ab sapphic yearning but what ab just. jihoon-yearning?",

wordcount: 12.0k

a/n: idk why but this is deffo not as good as my previous works. n e way also sorry to @onlyseokmins bc i promised her a seokmin fic WHICH IS STILL COMING i just felt like this was kinda genius and needed to happen first ok bye

It’s mid-spring, and the world is blossoming and flowering around you. Grass sprouts greener, plants drink in the heavy rainfall and flowers are blooming, slowly unfurling their pedaled heads to crane into the beautiful sky. At odds with nature, people walk the street to be drenched in the downpour, only to be dried off by the shyly peeking sun, and to have freckles surfacing on their skin and hair, getting frizzy from the humidity, when they’re biking along the streets. It’s serene, it’s natural. You’re reminded to love the place that birthed and fostered you.

But that’s out there.

You’re sitting, bottom planted firmly on the sticky surface of Joshua Hong’s couch, looking distantly into artificially colored lights, flickering across the floor, where people are dancing on one another in skimpy outfits and makeup, and everything is very far from the moon and the flowers.

“The second one is a lie!” Seulgi yells over the music, cup of god knows what in her hand, and slurring her words.

Sitting on the couch and stools surrounding the coffee table is you, Mingyu, Soonyoung, Seulgi, Irene, Yeri and Jihoon.

“No, I know she likes anal!” Screams Soonyoung giddily (forever oblivious to his surroundings), receiving a glare from your roommate, Yeri. You were currently playing two truths and one lie, and attempting to discern whether Yeri was lying about being on television, lying about having black belt in taekwondo or lying about having tried anal. “It’s about whether or not she’s tried it!” Irene rolls her eyes and huffs. “My point still stands,” Soonyoung grins and eyes Yeri, and you watch somewhat disgusted, reminding yourself to ask her about it later.

You’re sitting next to Mingyu, utterly small next to him, and the two of you are only watching the scene unfold, sharing snickering glances when something funny happens. “I’ve never done taekwondo!” Yeri screams at Soonyoung, and you and Mingyu fall back in your seats laughing and slapping each other, when Soonyoung’s face drops for a moment.

“They’re so dumb!” Mingyu cries, and you nod buried in a decorative pillow.

“Screw this noise, I’m finding Junhui,” Hoshi mumbles, a little deflated from his loss. Then he’s standing up, cargo-pants and all, and trudging away, pouting over his shoulder when he hears the laughing continue.

Jihoon - who’s been incredibly quiet and observant throughout the night, only sipping a single bottle of beer, slaps his thighs. You’re hoping in his ever searching eyes he hasn’t seen the way you’ve been staring at him all night. Are you drunk or is he so complex and sexy, and wearing a t-shirt that shows his huge arms and pants that show his thick thighs? You’re almost certain you can chalk this up to only ever seeing him in sweaters that totally swallow him - almost. “I’m going too,” he announces, standing up and not leaving much room for argument.

“Why? I’ll be the only guy,” Mingyu whines, pout pushing out his bottom lip. You scoff. You know he loves feeling like he’s one of the girls. “Paper,” Jihoon says, and adds more, when he realizes he’s being so curt it’s almost rude: “Tomorrow. I have a paper tomorrow.”

The group seems to accept this, knowing the stresses of college are weighing on each of them heavily. But your eyes narrow. You’re not buying it.

You watch him sling his jacket across his body, biting back more words. He’s quiet, sure, but never this quiet. With how he’d slumped back in his seat all night, almost bent into himself, there must be something bugging him. Jihoon’s eyes meet yours. It’s a half a second, but you feel like he knows you’re on to him, the way he hides his face under his long, black hair again and turns his back to you. All of a sudden he’s hurrying away, excusing himself half-heartedly. You narrow your eyes even further and purse your lips.

“Be right back,” you say. Seulgi pouts.

You’re trudging after him, fussing with your hair all of a sudden and adjusting your dress and - God, you care so much how he sees you. But you suppose you care more that he’s okay. That’s why you’re squeezing through the dancefloor, getting grinded on by several anonymous bodies, before pushing out to the entrance and finally breathing air that wasn't coming directly from someone else’s mouth.

“Jihoon, wait-”

You catch up to him by the doorway, where he’s stopped his journey, to slip Vernon a bill for a ziploc of mediocre weed.

“Jihoon!”

Finally, he hears you and he turns to you, where you’re regaining your last leg from the mass of bodies. Vernon is apparently still sober enough (you wouldn’t have thought so) to understand time and place, so he gently pushes past the two of you into the crowd.

You’re not ready for the look he gives you. Eyes so sharp and face darkened from his shaggy hair, curling into his face, and frowning and furrowing his brows as if he couldn’t understand why you’re here.

It sends your out-reaching body slamming backwards. You’re shrinking away from him, eyes flitting downwards self-consciously. You consider your history with him for a moment, weighing it in a glass of vodka-cranberry. This is pathetic, you realize, and it feels terrible. You’re pathetic and desperate and clingy and why would you feel the need to ask him this.

And then one moment to the next you’re scolding yourself for thinking that way. For thinking it was wrong to reach out a helping hand.

Jihoon apparently has enough of you debating with the angel and the devil on your shoulder, because he speaks finally: “What is it?”

There’s a pause.

“Are you okay?”

Another pause. You watch Jihoon’s face soften in shock, mouth falling open for a split second, before he’s closing it again and looking away. The ziploc crunches in his fingers, when they tighten and he shoves it into his inner pocket.

“I’m good,” he says.

“Okay.”

And this time and even longer pause! You can barely take it, the way he looks at you, and it almost feels like he suspicious of you, like he’s trying to discern what you’re doing here in front of him.

“Have a good night,” you say. He nods slowly and begins to walk off, and you watch him and the way the moonlight fills the entrance, so you’re coated in for a moment. Then it disappears with a slam of the door. You let out a shaky sigh.

Why did you do that? Why would you even think to do something like that?

You decide against standing there for any longer, not allowing yourself to overanalyze it, and you turn around to go back to your friends. Yet again comes the song and dance of trying to navigate the most terrifying human cesspool, face scrunching up in disgust as you make your way back to the sofa, almost unscathed, except you think you accidentally got caught in an armpit.

“Y/n! Come quick, so you can be a part of this momentous- momentous.. Moment!” You hear Mingyu calling and when he’s finally in view, you realize something very, very terrible is about to happen.

Mingyu’s holding a leather notebook between his fingers - Jihoon’s notebook. It’s the one he’s always writing in; the one he shuts closed whenever anyone gets too close, the one he keeps tucked under his arm at all times; the one he’s inexplicably writing in, even if he’s blasted on Vernon’s weed. And it’s private and he’s somehow forgotten it.

“We’re not opening it,” you say immediately, power-walking back to your spot in the couch. Mingyu snaps his head towards you, and he almost looks offended at that. “What do you mean we’re not opening it, of course we’re opening it!”

“It could be private, Gyu!” You retort and Seulgi chimes from her spot on the couch: “I’m with Y/n.”

“No, what? Fuck you guys! We’re seeing what’s in that notebook!-” Irene spits. “Thank you!” Mingyu says.

“Yeri, it’s up to you,” you say, eyeing your roommate sharply, as you sit down again. The entire group turns to her, fury behind their retinas, and she gulps, shrinking a little.

“Me, I just…” she shrugs abashedly and trails off. There’s a moment where you think she’ll side with you and leave the poor boy alone. You have some semblance of faith in your friendship, and maybe, maybe she’ll back you-

“He’s a music major, it’s probably just angsty lyrics, now open!”

“Yes!” Irene and Mingyu gloat, and despite wanting to respect his privacy, you scoot closer to Mingyu (he scoffs at you, but does not mention it further, as he is itching with curiosity). With a solemn, heaved sigh, as if about to unfurl the world’s grandest mysteries, Mingyu’s large hand flips the book open.

There’s no justified way to put word to the shock that follows this. The first page reads:

“Girl Code Rule #1

Guys should bring flowers on the first date. Either lilies, roses or tulips. Depends on vibe.”

There’s a confused silence - as much as silence as you can get from a bass-boosted room of drunk college students.

“What?” Irene quacks in disappointment, leaning closer to read it again. “Why-.. Go to the next page.” And Mingyu does, turning over the page and the next couple of pages follow suit.

“Girl Code Rule #2

Whoever offered the date pays for dinner. First date should always be dinner, ‘none of the bowling crap’.

Girl Code Rule #3

Guys are more attractive the more hygienic they are.

Girl Code Rule #4

It’s an ick to wear skinny jeans. *Google what an ick is.”

They come one after another, each more confusing than the last, and it’s not until number 5, that the heavy, suffocating spread of realization begins blooming among you. Clarity - your minds open like leaves of a flower in spring.

“Girl Code Rule #5

The cinema on Attacca street is a nightmare and we hate them. Never go there.”

“That’s-” you begin.

“Us!” Yeri finishes, pointing her finger at the page but directing her eyes, wide and pupils small from shock, towards you. The group exchange gaping glances. It’s undeniable - the cinema thing is relating to an incident that had happened months prior. You refuse to go into detail, but it had gotten grim.

“These are all things we’ve said!” Seulgi snatches the book out of Mingyu’s hold, beginning to mindlessly scroll through the book with furrowed brows, etch growing deeper and deeper in outrage.

“That’s- This is crazy. That’s so not cool!” You shriek and Yeri nods in agreement: “Girl code is for girls only!”

There’s a general agreement on the outrageousness of this. That is, except for one big boy on the couch.

“I meaaaan,” Mingyu is looking a little sheepish sitting in the middle of you and Yeri and Seulgi and Irene. All eyes flit towards him, small and sharp. He’s talking slowly, lowly and carefully: “You guys have to have said it out loud while he was there, so you weren’t exactly being discreet…”

“Men don’t usually listen to women, we thought we were in the clear!” Irene hisses.

“No man has ever listened to me in my entire life,” Seulgi deadpans, looking at Mingyu from beyond the book. Mingyu throws his hands out, incidentally hitting Yeri in the face, and ignoring her pained groans when she falls back on the couch. “I listened. Just now. Check that off your list-”

“Why is he writing this down..?” You mumble, seemingly the only one grasping the gravity of the situation (although maybe there is none? You can never tell when it’s with him) and it truly is such a mystery. Was he attempting to pry open the minds of women? You don’t exactly think he has trouble finding dates, so you’re left a little at a loss.

“Let’s ask him-” Mingu says.

“He just left, dumbass,” Irene spits and you can tell she’s almost disgusted with herself for ever siding with him.

“Let’s ask him tomorrow, then, after class,” you say decidedly.

“Ugh, don’t talk about tomorrow..” Yeri groans, and you can see the regret settling in because why do all the hot guys throw weeknight parties? “Y/n, can we go home?” she asks and you’re nodding immediately.

“Seul?”

“Yep.”

And in the span of just a couple of seconds, your entire friend group is packing up, Seulgi stuffing the book into her tote bag. Mingyu’s still sitting, much smaller when you’re standing over him, and when he has that almost starstruck look on his face. “I’m so glad I’m a part of this, guys.”

“You’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” Mingyu counters, clearly thinking otherwise. He’s grinning stupidly. “Hey, wait, where are we confronting him tomorrow?” he calls out suddenly, but you’re already on your way out.

“GUYS! WHERE ARE WE MEETING?” _____________________________

You, Yeri, Seulgi, and Irene sit side by side on the middle-back row in class, eyeing Jihoon from the peaks. It’s a quiet, morning class, and the teacher rambles on while the four of you glare down at him. Or at least they glare. You hope it’s not noticeable how there’s something softer in your eyes - something almost tender. He’s fidgeting a little. Maybe he feels the pairs of eyes on the back of his black-buried head or maybe he’s noticed the book is gone and he feels the consequences coming.

It was certainly a strange situation to tackle. Mingyu did have a point, if it was a private conversation, you certainly had not discussed it as such. And even then, was there a crime in what he was doing? You just couldn’t understand how Jihoon possibly felt the need to garner all this information on women. He’d never had trouble picking up girls. You would know.

You shake the terrible, terrible thought away, when Irene speaks up: “The coward is all nervous.”

“Okay, let’s calm down. We can’t know he’s an evildoer, before we find out his true intentions.” Seulgi reasons, a hand soothing over Irene’s arm. Yeri nods softly. “God, I wish class was over.”

And suddenly it was. Well, twenty more minutes of suffering through a class that was totally lost, picked up by the pollen-saturated wind. Then the professor is excusing himself and wiping the board.

Never in your life had your group been so fast at packing up their things, pencils and computers shoved down bags, before you’re strutting (model-walking) over to Jihoon. “We need to talk to you,” Yeri says, once she’s in front of his desk, hand on the wood. Jihoon looks up from where he’s packing his bag, eyes peeking through the thick strands of hair. He nods. He knows.

As you wait for students to exit the class (Minghao giving Jihoon a confused grimace, before he squeezes out), you study Jihoon. He’s still sitting, and you’re all towering over him. His pale skin is glowing in the light and he purses his lip and bounces his leg - God, his thick leg - in nervous await.

Students are slipping out the door in droves and when the last, tired body escapes, Seulgi reaches into her bag and pulls out the leather-bound book. “We read it.”

“I figured,” he mutters. He’s avoiding your eyes, flinching a little when Irene slams her hand onto the book. “So, why have you been writing down the girl code?”

Jihoon sighs. His lips make a tight line, and you can see how he wonders what to say. The pause would’ve been more tense had you not had the girls with you.

“The girl code is for girls only,” Yeri supplies.

“Well, you weren’t exactly being discreet about it-”

“Just answer the question, Jihoon!” Seulgi snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is, like, top-level strange.”

“Alright!” Jihoon throws his hands up in the air. His eyes flit to you, totally quiet and scratching your nails on the wooden table. You look away. He sighs a little. “I… It’s..”

You almost want to hug him when he buries his face in his hands, tugging at the ends of his hair.

“You can’t tell anyone.”

The four of you exchange glances.

“We won’t.”

He pauses.

“It’s.. IhaveacrushonthisgirlandIdon’twanttomessitup.”

There’s a beat, where the information glides cooly into your skulls and you begin to process. Jihoon - cold, cynical, loner Jihoon - has a crush on a girl and is trying to improve himself for her?

Holy hell.

“Jihoon!” cries Seulgi and Irene chimes in, equally as adoring and diffused: “That’s so cute, you should’ve just said something!”

There’s an uproar of coos and cries and oohs and ahhs and compliments being thrown at Jihoon and he just sits there, cheeks blazing bright red, although with a little, shy smile on his lips.

And then there’s you. It’s so dumb. Why can’t you help the slight disappointment that lowers on you, like the fog does in the blooming season? Why can’t you smile wider, happier for Jihoon? Why do you feel this way? Does it really take all this commotion for you to realize how much you want him? You half-smile and look at your shoes. Just as how your feelings blossomed like a flower in spring, you hope they, too, are destined to wither away once more.

“Congratulations,” you say to him, giving him a dignified nod. Jihoon looks at you for a moment, before he smiles tightly and thanks you.

“Jihoon!” Yeri says, and you know you’re about to hate her for what comes next: “We can totally help you with the crush!”

Jihoon’s eyes widen. “Really? I mean- you guys don’t have to-”

“No, no! You can come to our girls’ nights and we can tell you everything!” Irene cuts in, nodding in reassurance. Jihoon smiles to himself a little sheepishly.

“Who is it?” Seulgi asks, and you can tell her heart is triple its usual size.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Come on!” Seulgi begs, but Jihoon is steadfast. He gives her cheeky smile and shakes his head again. “No way. It’s my secret.”

“We can keep a secret!” Yeri begs, bending her knees in plea. You, unusually quiet, speak up again: “We can.”

There’s a pause while Jihoon looks at you again. He narrows his eyes and it’s almost like he’s trying to decode you. Maybe he’s noticed you’re just as quiet as he was, at that party. You hate yourself when your heart picks up at the thought of him caring about you.

Suddenly he’s snapping out of it and smiling and shaking his ruffled head of hair again. “No. If girl code was supposed to be a secret, then I don’t even wanna think about telling you.”

This time there’s no talkback, only somewhat embarrassed nods.

“We deserve that.” _____________________________

You come back to your dorm room that afternoon, and lie down in bed. Thoughts of Jihoon plague your mind and you feel disease-ridden, attempting to push away the thought with the same useless reminder: You should do your paper, gotta do your paper now, it’s due very soon…

But no matter how many times you tell yourself, you can’t overcome the crushing feeling in your chest, like your entire rib cage is being compressed.

You know when these emotions started. It was at the Halloween party, six months ago, and Jihoon had been wearing a cop-outfit and you, with a more humorous approach, a lobster costume (Mingyu was a chef). Somehow, he’d still found you sexy though, because he was laughing in the bathroom of Seungcheol’s frat house, ripping the costume off of you.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna fuck a lobster,” he’d said in between kisses, laughing again as he caught sight of the costume, discarded on the floor. You giggled. “Me neither. There are plenty of fish in the sea, you know?”

And he’d thrown his head back, still with that black hair, still in that sexy fucking uniform, and his nose all scrunched and adam’s apple bopping in time with his joyful laughter. “Stop making me laugh while I’m trying to get you wet!”

“I’m already wet,” you’d shrugged, “you’re hot.”

And before you knew it you were handcuffed and he was rutting into you against the sink. His cock was disappearing and reappearing from your pussy, hooked onto him like a vice. Groaning and listening to your withheld moans, he’d left the most sinful hickies along your shining neck, while mumbling desperate praises to you: “You’re so pretty, N/n, letting me have you like this, so fucking hot.”

You supposed you’d buried those feelings, because you felt so pathetic for catching feelings from a one night stand.

And it is pathetic. And you are pathetic, and desperate, and alone, and God, is it even Jihoon, or is it the way it suddenly feels like no one wants you?

“Stop that,” Yeri says suddenly, lying on her bed on the opposite side of your room. You tilt your tired eyes towards her. “What?”

“I can hear you thinking. What’s up?” She said nonchalantly, dropping her phone, that she’d been mindlessly scrolling through. Cheeks bunched up on your pillow and mascara smudging under your eyes, you look at her and sigh.

“Just tired,” you hum. _____________________________

Jihoon has been adopted. For a whole week following that incident, suddenly, your friends are taking him with them everywhere, and your safe space is invaded by his hair, his laugh, and his subtle cologne. It’s him with you during movie nights, it’s him during girls’ nights, and it’s him while you’re getting ready for a bar-night, all sitting in Irene and Seulgi’s pink-tastic room, doing makeup on the floor and on the desks and on the bed.

“I love your eye makeup,” Seulgi says to Yeri (it’s a pink number with glittery inner corners), under eyes totally covered in white powder, as she’s baking her makeup. Jihoon is sitting on the floor, hair tied up in two pigtails that Irene had given him. “Thank you, Seul.”

You’re doing your own makeup, working blush into your cheeks and trying not to look at him, the way he’s half-lying on the carpeted floor, looking absentmindedly into his phone. His thighs are huge, and he’s wearing gray sweatpants, and you think you’re going insane.

Irene (who’s done with her makeup before anyone else, always) looks up from her own phone. She narrows her eyes deviously. “Jihoon, what do you think of Yeri’s makeup?”

Jihoon snaps his head up, pigtails bouncing. “Uh,” he looks a little lost, when he turns his head over to Yeri, who smiles sheepishly, not totally understanding what was happening. “It’s nice.”

“Just nice?” Irene smirks, and Jihoon finally seems to catch on to the fact that this is some sort of test. Indeed it was, and you knew it from the moment Irene began to talk. Your eyes flit between them, sitting behind you in the mirror. “Can you elaborate on that?” Irene smirks.

“It’s…” Jihoon considers what to respond, almost nervous. “She looks better without makeup.”

“Son, no!”

“Never!”

“Absolutely not!”

It’s a cacophony from the girls, even a pillow is thrown at his head, which he dodges in shock. “Never say that to a girl, Jihoon! It’s rude!” Irene lectures, a finger pointedly thrown in his direction. When he doesn’t seem to get it, Yeri explains: “Imagine spending time on something, only for someone to say they’d wish you hadn’t done it all.”

Jihoon, who’s been bristling like a disturbed cat up until now, softens in understanding. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, our child, you’re learning,” Irene says, face turning back to her phone, as she apparently has lost interest in the conversation.

You watch quietly with a bemused smile, having paused your ministrations on your face, brush held in the air before you. Jihoon’s eyes flicker over to you, an unreadable expression on his face. You meet his eyes in the mirror, pitch black and blank. You look away quickly.

You can feel him, still looking at you, and you feel self-conscious at the way you crooken your back to better focus on your face. What’s he thinking? That you look ugly? That your back is ugly? Your makeup?

“Are you okay, Y/n?”

You freeze. His voice is soft as ever, and you understand now, better than ever, why he’s a music major, because it’s so melodious and sweet in your ears. All eyes in the room snap to you and you eye them all in the mirror. “Yep.”

Yeri sighs, exasperated. “She’s been depresso for, like, a week.”

“I’ve been fine,” you correct, smudging out the pencil on your lid. “I’ve been fineeee,” Yeri mocks, making her voice nasally and high. You glare at her through the mirror, but all she does is stick her tongue out at you.

“I’m just stressed out, okay? I've got a lot on my plate,” you mumble bitterly, and it’s true, because every time you’re trying to do assignments, papers, write notes and focus in class, you think of him, and how he doesn’t want you. And one wrong thing leads to another, and then you’re thinking about how no one wants you, and you haven’t had a boyfriend since you entered college. And then it’s something about how you look, or it’s something about how you are, as a person, and you just sit at your desk with this terrible feeling in you gut, trying not to cry, or hoping that your sniffles don’t overpower Replay by Shinee blasting in Yeri’s headphones, as she’s eating crackers in bed, just a few feet away from you.

“Just talk to us if you need anything, okay?” Seulgi frowns and you smile at her, hoping it looks convincing. She nods at you, turning back to her handheld mirror. But alas one person stays staring at you. You avoid his eyes, trying not to look like you’re about to cry.

“I can arrange a spa day? We can get our toes done,” Irene asks, and she wiggles her toes in the air for emphasis. “Ooo, yes!” Yeri exclaims.

Finally, Jihoon’s attention is ripped from you, wincing at the thought of another person handling his feet. “Can I skip out on that, maybe?”

Irene scratches her chin, pretending to think about it. Then she says, bluntly and directly: “Nah.”

_____________________________

“Let me come with you to the spa!��

“No! Jihoon, walk faster,” like a mother, Seulgi is grabbing Jihoon’s wrist and dragging him further from the tall, huge man behind you. Mingyu is following you all like a dog, whining and crying, and pouting. “Please, guys! I don’t wanna go with Seungcheol and Jeonghan, they’re mean!”

“Spa day is for girls only!” Yeri yells over her shoulder, as the five of you stumble away from Mingyu, crying out to you. “What about him?” Mingyu yells and points.

“Don’t listen to him, sweetie,” Seulgi tells Jihoon and he nods very seriously. “He’s our adopted son! Now shoo!”

Finally Mingyu gives up the chase, and you disappear behind the outerwall, beginning down a busy street towards Irene’s favorite spa. “I don’t get how you’re friends with that guy,” Irene says, elbowing you, and you both snicker. “He’s a pup,” you shrug.

The streets are filled with people, the sun is shining, and it’s spring, and everything should be great, because you’re with your friends. But he’s here too. Swallowed up by his hoodie, pitch black in a sea of colors, he’s still here and his very presence has you tense, and yearning for the touch of a masseuse. The streets that had grown so familiar, that you thought you had learnt and mastered, had become so foreign, and you’re trying to escape into yourself, trying to find a backdoor out of the constant blabbering, teaching Jihoon the importance of gossip and female communication and companionship. These are your friends. The sadness eventually musters into frustration.

Soon enough, you’re sighing so hard you think your soul escapes with it through your mouth. A spa-worker begins massaging your feet, and working her thumbs into your sore soles. Irene laughs at your reaction, two seats over. “Told you all you needed was a spa day!” she beams. Yeah, a spa day and maybe a new friend group that wouldn’t adopt the guy who you should certainly not be around!

And speaking of him, he’s sitting in the chair right next to yours, grimacing and flinching back from the disdained worker.

“What are you gonna tell her?” Yeri quips, smiling at the end of the row. Jihoon takes a second to snap out of his constant flinching, looking over at her nervously. “Oh, uh…”

The girls are all looking at him expectantly, but you’re squeezing your eyes shut and wishing your ears could shut too.

“Probably, like.. ‘Hey, I like you, would you maybe wanna go out on a date sometime?”

“Pssh!”

“Absolutely not!”

“As if!”

Jihoon is a little flabbergasted.

“Here’s what you’re actually gonna say,” Seulgi leans over in her chair towards him, directing him with a finger in her armrest. You hear Jihoon scramble in his chair, and you know he’s taking out that stupid notebook again.

Seulgi lowers her voice to mimic his, when she talks again: “‘Hi, crush, how are you?’ Wait for her response… Then: ‘I’ve always thought you were very beautiful. Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date, would that be okay with you?’ And be suave about it.”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH.”

Yeri and Irene burst into laughter, hitting the armrests of their chairs and covering their bright smiles with their hands. Even you snort in amusement. “What?!” Seulgi exclaims, outraged. “What’s so funny about that?”

“Nothing, I just-...” Irene wafts herself, trying to ease away that tears of glee that spring in her eyes. “I can’t imagine any man, let alone our son, saying that to a woman.. Wow.”

“It’s good! I would be flattered,” Seulgi defends herself viciously. Yeri snorts from her seat: “It’s not a drama, Seul!”

“Well!” Seulgi scoffs, twisting her upper body to face Yeri now. “Maybe I would like my life to be a drama, thank you very much!”

Their argument continues viciously, insults and laughter being thrown at each other left and right and you can almost begin to tune them own, letting the feeling of pads on your feet and a gentle, cool brush on the nail lure you to sleep.

Then there’s a hand on your forearm. You peek an eye open and see him - God, it just has to be him - leaning over his chair to gently grasp you. He looks at you through lashes, and he’s so sincere that it kills you when he says: “I can tell you’re not okay.”

You’re a little taken aback, one second prior you were being lulled to sleep and now he’s talking to you, so low, so seriously, while the girls try to attack each other behind him. You wish your heart isn’t suddenly galloping, and you wish his warmth on your arm and radiating onto you isn’t so nauseating. “I-”

“Don't say you are, when you're not. You’re very obvious, you know?” he hums, smiling softly when he sees you flush from his intense gaze. You avert your eyes nervously. “Uhm. I just.. I don’t really want to talk about it, Hoon.”

You flick your eyes back up to his to survey his reaction. His expression softens at the nickname, and he holds your gaze for a moment longer, before he nods in understanding, all the warmth of his closeness disappearing, when he sits back down in his seat.

“That’s okay,” he smiles at you in reassurance, and your heart leaps, and you can’t help but think that he doesn’t need anymore training to make his crush - whoever the lucky girl is - completely and totally happy for several lifetimes.

He’s a beautiful, sun-beamed flower, where he sits, light flitting through the store-front windows. You’d be happy for several lifetimes. If only he wanted you. _____________________________

“What is going on?!”

It’s Mingyu, and he’s somehow found you, as you’re trudging out of your latest class, suddenly hot on your trail and outraged about something or other. “What?” you mumble, heading to the cafe near the end of the hall.

“With Jihoon?! Why does he get to be your son when I don’t?!” Mingyu wafts his arms and pouts and you cringe, leaning away from his loud voice. “Ugh…”

“I need to know why he was writing that girl code stuff, Y/n. Why is he suddenly allowed at girls’ nights, when I’ve been trying to get in for months?!”

You take a turn into the cafe and sigh at how crowded it is, immediately placing yourself in line, Mingyu right behind you. “Calm down,” you say, just wanting a sandwich and maybe some peace and qui-

“I will not!” he snaps back, brows furrowed and a determined look on his face. You look up at him, pursing your lips in thought. Did Mingyu deserve to know? Maybe. He had been trying to get into girls’ nights forever, always going on about being ‘an honorary member’.

“I’m not sure I can tell you- Hey, can I get a tuna sandwich, please?” You say, quickly turned to the clerk behind the counter. “I won’t tell anyone, pleaseee- Can you get me one of those too? Thanks.”

You’re handed your sandwiches, and you hold both of them, drifting over to a table by the window, both of Mingyu’s hands on your shoulders and his voice in your ear: “Please, please, please, pretty please with the sugar on top?”

You plop down in your seat, simply exasperated, and hand him his sandwich. He’s settling himself down when you answer: “Okay.”

“Yes!” Mingyu fists the air in victory, mumbling self-assured under his breath: “Begging always works.” You snort and take a big bite of your sandwich.

“Stop eating and tell me!” he whines. “I’m hungry– Hey!”

Mingyu snatches the sandwich right out of your hands and grins at you deviously, dancing with it. You hate him. You hate him, but it is a little endearing.

“Jihoon has a crush on some girl and he’s been writing down the girl code in an attempt to understand women,” you deadpan, and when Mingyu’s mouth and guard drops, you snatch your sandwich back and begin gulping down hungrily.

“Are you shitting me?!” You shake your head.

“So, that's why he's allowed at girls’ night?” You nod your head.

“So, that’s why you’ve been so down?” You almost choke on your food.

“What?”

“Because you like him,” Mingyu says seriously and, with a totally stunned look on your face, you shark down the bits of sandwich in your mouth painfully. “How do you know that?!” you cry, head suddenly snapping in seventy different directions, relief washing over you, when none of your or Jihoon’s friends are around.

“Because you’ve been acting all weird around him since you fucked at Seungcheol’s Halloween party,” Mingyu shrugs. You wave your arms wildly.

“How do you know that?!” Whining, you throw yourself back in your seat, and bury your head in your hands. This couldn’t be happening. Your delicate secret, the one that could have - should have - simply faded away into summer, was now out and open, and you look out the window, and it’s spring.

“I know everything,” Mingu says ominously, giggling evilly.

“Mingyu, I will fucking kill you.”

“Fine! I needed to pee and you guys were super loud,” Mingyu pouts and takes a bite of his own sandwich. “No need to be so rude.”

“I can’t believe you know,” you groan, head collapsing on the table. Mingyu, forever and always silly, finally softens and frowns. You’re scattered.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” you say. Then, a moment later (in true Girl Code fashion) you’re lifting your head from the table and burying it in your hands: “I just. I don’t know, Mingyu. I feel so pathetic for liking him after a one night stand! And now he’s doing all this for another woman and he’s with us all the time…I haven’t had a boyfriend in college, Mingyu. I just feel so…” There’s a pause, when you’re trying to find the right word, and Mingyu stops breathing, looking at you and fearing the worst. Then comes the word, ripping itself from your lips:

“Unlovable.”

Mingyu’s frown deepens. Big, puppy Mingyu who’s always silly and happy, just slumps in on himself. “You’re not unlovable,” he mumbles, sounding genuinely disbelieving. You scoff.

“Thanks, Mingyu, it’s just.. That’s how it feels,” you admit, running a hand through your hair and looking at your half-eaten sandwich on the table. Mingyu’s quiet for a moment. When he speaks up again, he’s determined, and you can discern almost immediately that there’s no escaping this plan. Or he’ll for God’s sake start begging again.

“I’m going to wingman you,” he’s nodding to himself, and you can see the plan falling into place in his head, “I’m gonna wingman you and set you up with my friend at the party on Saturday!”

“Please, don’t,” you groan half-heartedly, but a piece of you brightens with hope, with summer, like maybe this was the thing you needed to get over your schoolgirl-crush on Jihoon.

“No,” Mingyu responds simply. “This is happening.” _____________________________

Indeed, it is happening.

The frat house is practically bumping with each beat of whatever pop song is playing over the speakers, and you lean into the rhythm that reverberates in the kitchen table beneath your fingers.

You somewhat wish that you hadn’t been as excited for this as you were, that you hadn’t spent hours picking out the perfect pink dress and doing your makeup, and that you aren’t hopelessly dependant on Mingyu (of all people) to find you a fuck. But you are. Putting on that dress and hoop earrings and doing your hair and declining Yeri’s invitation to the girls’ (and Jihoon’s) pre-party, you feel like you’re scrambling, like constantly falling through the air, flailing for something to ground yourself on.

Now, scanning over the tinted lights and the dancing people and feeling the slight, warm buzz of vodka in your blood, you know you need this. And still, you combat that slight anxiety, the insecurity that you hadn’t felt in years - what if Mingyu couldn’t find a single guy that wanted you?

Mingyu doesn’t seem worried though.

“Okay! We just gotta figure out who to set you up with. Take your pick,” he places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing and gauging your reaction. Your brows furrow as you shrug. Somehow, even when half the guys are objectively hot, you can’t say you find yourself drawn to any of them. You don’t linger on the feeling, fearful that maybe you’ll realize all the things they’re missing, the things they’re falling short of, are just Jihoon’s traits. “I don’t know, man. I just-..”

Mingyu senses your struggle and elects to give you his excellent guidance. “Alright, well you could do Joshua?” He’s pointing somewhere in the crowd, and sure enough, you notice Joshua, majoring in communications or something like that. “He’s a star: total hottie, super smart, sweet and considerate, and-”

“And he fucked Yeri,” you deadpan, head lolling over to look at Mingyu disapprovingly. Mingyu’s mouth falls open: “What?!”

“Yeah, like, two months ago!” you argue, wafting your hands. Mingyu’s mouth stays open, and he’s seemingly totally appalled by this.

“What?! Okay- nevermind. How about him?” He points his long limbs again, and this time you notice-

You narrow your eyes confusedly. Hopefully Mingyu was not trying to set you up with the biggest player in your year? “Jeonghan?!”

“What? No, the guy beside him, dickwad,” he playfully smacks the side of your head as you refocus your eyes. Indeed, a blonde guy is standing next to Jeonghan, seemingly whining at him. “Who’s he?”

“Lee Chan. Super sweet, great bod, a little dumb, but very doting-”

“Is he a freshman?!” you cry, almost as if it were a crime. Mingyu huffs. “You’re not making this easy, you know?!”

“I’m not dating or fucking a freshman,” you cross your arms and Mingyu senses the air of finality in your words. He sighs, slumping behind you for a moment, before he spots something across the room.

“Wonwoo! What about him?” he doesn’t even bother pointing at this point, simply tilts your head towards the man, who was currently talking to Seungcheol a little ways from the kitchen. You spot him. You suppose you’d always been a little curious about Wonwoo. From what you’d seen of him in passing, he was sweet and polite, absolutely gorgeous and extremely smart. You nod solemnly.

“I could- I could see that,” you say and Mingyu’s eyes light up. He bounces victoriously, punching the air. “He’s great, you’re- you’re gonna love him,” Mingyu delights and before you can even get another word in, Mingyu’s yelling across the room: “Hey, Wonwoo! Wonwoo, scootch over here!”

Your eyes widen in shock. “Wha- we’re doing this now? Just, on the fly? No warning?”

“It’s fine,” Mingyu waves you off, eyes trained on where Wonwoo is now walking towards you.

“Do I look okay?” your voice is wavering nervously. You still can’t help how you feel, even in your dress and your makeup. Where had all your confidence gone? The confidence with which you’d literally fucked Jihoon in a lobster-costume? Even the thought of him stings. Mingyu’s confident facade falters for only a split second at the vulnerability in your tone. His gaze softens and he looks at you: “You look great, N/n. Calm down, Wonwoo’s super nice.”

“Hey, Gyu,” Wonwoo’s voice is cool, as he approaches Mingyu. Standing in front of you and Mingyu, he briefly scans you, then acknowledges you with a nod and a sweet smile. “Wonwoo, hey, you know, I was just wondering if you’ve already done the history paper?”

Wonwoo is unamused. “I’m not doing your paper again, Mingyu.”

“Oh well, shucks, that’s simply too bad,” Mingyu (poorly) feigns annoyance and defeat, before he’s grabbing your shoulder. “Anyway, Wonwoo, have you met my very good friend, Y/n?”

You fake a smile, hoping the absolute pain of the current interaction was not showing on your face. If you’d known Mingyu was this bad at wing-manning, you would’ve gladly put up with his begging instead. You want to crawl into a hole and die, because based on Wonwoo’s smug smile, he has a pretty good understanding of what’s happening.

“Whoops, look at the time!” Mingyu looks at his wrist. He is not wearing a watch. “Damn, I guess I gotta go and- and leave my two good friends alone with each other, such a shame, uh, anyway!” As he speaks he backs further and further from you, trying to ignore the glare in your eyes, before he’s bolting at his last word.

There’s an awkward silence as soon as Mingyu’s gone. You feel like an unshelled turtle. You purse your lips and stare at your heel-clad feet.

“So, Mingyu was trying to wingman you?” Wonwoo’s voice is deep and bemused. You look at him in horror, trying to think of a way to salvage the situation.

“Yeah,” your breathe, and he immediately begins laughing. “Sorry about that, he was- he was just trying to be helpful, although it’s hard to defend him right now.”

“He’s wingmanned me before, too,” Wonwoo muses and, thank God, this was actually a good thing. You find a balance on the common ground. “Really?” you grin, looking up at him.

“Yep,” Wonwoo admits, “safe to say I did not get my dick wet.”

You laugh hard, and it feels like a switch has flipped inside you, restarting your joy-generator, because you’re laughing and hitting Wonwoo’s arm, and he’s smiling because he’s just made a pretty girl laugh.

“He’s so bad!” you say when you’re done laughing. “Everytime!” Wonwoo drawls, “Everytime he pulls that shit and he’s never wearing a watch!”

You and Wonwoo laugh together, throwing (good-hearted) snarky comments about Mingyu around, and your cheeks are rosy and shining in the kitchen-light. Finally, party still bumpin’ and pumpin’ in the near distance, your laughter dies down and you’re both half-leaning against the counter. Wonwoo looks down at you with a smug smile.

“What?” you ask, growing insecure again under his gaze. He hums.

“So you asked for me?”

“Hm?”

“When Mingyu was wingmanning you,” Wonwoo reminded you, tilting his head. “You asked for me?”

“I-” you stutter, and your heart clenches nervously, because if things had been right, if things were different at least, you would have asked for Jihoon. It’s this gut-punching guilt. It feels wrong to use him, Wonwoo, to overcome Jihoon. “He was laying down my options.”

“Options?” Wonwoo quips, brow raised questioningly, but he doesn’t interrogate further. Instead, he leans his head down, so he’s much, much closer to you, breathing hitting your face when he whispers: “But you wanted to fuck me. Isn’t that right?”

You gulp. His presence is almost suffocating. Avoiding his eyes, you flicker them onto the dancefloor, where-

Where Jihoon is storming out of the house.

You squeeze your eyes shut - something Wonwoo thinks is out of embarrassment, from the question he’s just asked you - and try to refocus on Wonwoo. Try to ignore how the thoughts about Jihoon come bubbling in your head. It was probably something with his crush. You want to do nothing more than comfort him, hold him, steal away every bad thought he may ever have.

You open your eyes, hoping that somehow seeing Wonwoo’s face would fill you with a need for him - him, and not Jihoon - but seeing him in the low lighting only serves as a reminder that Wonwoo is not him.

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Wonwoo. I gotta go. I’m really, really sorry-” you say suddenly, and immediately you’re scurrying towards the door. Wonwoo frowns, eyes following you in your path. “Did I- Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, you were hot!” you say absent-mindedly, before you’re disappearing into the entrance, and then further along, out the door.

Wonwoo stands alone at the counter, still somewhat leaned towards your ghost in front of him, and shakes his head in confusion. “What the fuck?” _____________________________

“Jihoon?”

You exit just in time to see him, stomping on the other side of the road, armless denim jacket wafting in the wind. It’s spring, just warm enough that you’re not freezing, but still cold enough that you curl your arms around yourself. Your hair blows gently. It smells distantly like flowers.

He turns around at your voice. When he does, you know your suspicions were right. He looks so defeated. His gorgeous long hair, that usually only makes you clench your thighs together, is limp and drags him downwards. His arms hang similarly at his sides, fists clenched at the bottom, causing veins to ripple along the forearms. He stands just below a street light, spot-lighted, as if on a stage.

“Leave me alone!” he yells out to you across the road, voice breaking halfway. This does nothing to dampen his demeanor - this tough front, this anger he suddenly carries. You still in the grass beside the road, looking at him pleadingly. He can’t hold your gaze.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, Jihoon,” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “But I can just.. Support you. You don’t have to be alone right now.”

This almost seems to piss him off more, clenching his jaw, sharply defined by the harsh shadows, and steering his head away from you, like a sunflower following the sun in the sky. It hurts your heart. The way he almost seems angry with you. And yet again you’re made to feel pathetic for following him out here. Like you’re on your knees and he’s standing there in front of you, spitting on you. Why does it hurt so much? You almost wish you’d stayed with Wonwoo - that you’d followed him to his room and let him fuck you and pretended you weren’t thinking about him the entire time.

“Shouldn’t you go back inside?” he’s prickling with hostility. “You seemed like you were having a good time.”

“Jihoon,” you say breathlessly. “None of us is having a good time if you’re not.”

Whatever cog you unturned, whatever screw you unscrewed, Jihoon’s tightly wound posture unwinds, and he softens and withers before you, one hand clamping over his eyes. You take this as a sign to move towards him, heels clicking on the asphalt warning him of your advance. It’s deadly quiet, save for the heartbeat of the frat house behind you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally lowering his hand and looking at you. You smile sympathetically, relief flooding you, when he lets you gently place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

The two of you begin to walk in silence, and you recognize it as the path that leads back to the dormitory. It’s calm, steps becoming rhythmic and breeze easing your muscles with its cool touch. You study his face as it’s lit and unlit by the systemic presence of street lights. You’re able to put your own feelings aside for him, to be a martyr, and to sacrifice yourself to comfort him. It feels like cutting your own throat to talk to him about another woman, a woman he loves, truly, but you know it must be done.

“So,” you muster finally. “What happened in there?”

He scoffs bitterly, looking at the pavement underneath his shoes. You frown. “Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?” you repeat, a little confused.

“I didn’t tell her.”

“Oh.”

You’re honestly not the best comforter, you realize, cringing and hoping you’re not making it worse by talking to him about it. You see the faint outline of the dormitory at the end of the street.

“Why not?” you quip quietly. His mouth makes a tight line. He breathes out shakily, and you fear you’re riling him up again by asking further.

“She was talking to some other guy,” Jihoon says, eyes flitting to yours before immediately ducking back to the pavement. You furrow your brows. Could it be you? That thought nurtures the spring garden in your stomach, the one you’d been trying to kill. But the insecurity that had come with it, and with him, only manages to squander that light.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you say softly, hand finding his arm, but he pulls it away from you immediately. Ouch.

“Yeah,” he chuckles without humor.

Finally, you decide to just shut up, to stop pushing him when he’s so vulnerable, but this time it’s Jihoon who doesn’t stop speaking. “You know,” he begins and again he’s laughing, but you can tell it’s only a cheap plaster for the pain in his voice, “I’d memorized that- that confession thing Seulgi made. And I followed all the- the style advice and the-” his voice breaks and he hisses at how pathetic it sounds. “Everything. I did everything,” he summarizes finally and when you look you see orbs of tears forming at his waterline, like the dew drops that sparkle on leaves in spring.

You don’t know what to say. It’s almost too hard to see him like this. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, but Jihoon shakes his head.

“Stop saying that,” his voice is harsher, groggier, thick and stained by the sobs in his throat. You pause your steps. You’re standing in the yard outside the dormitory now. Hundreds of windows become an audience to where you now stand before each other.

“Why?” you ask.

“Because-” he wipes the tears away aggressively, composing himself before he finally, finally looks at you. “Because you’re gonna make me think that you actually care.” His voice is suddenly laced with venom again. The hostility that you’d tamed returns and it’s so much stronger, more bitter. You’re taken aback.

“I-I do care? Why do you think I don’t care-”

“Oh, please, Y/n. You didn’t want me at your girls’ nights or at spa day or fucking whatever. You didn’t- You don’t care about my book or my crush or my-”

“I do care!” you interrupt, voice stern and much louder. “What, you think I follow you out of parties for fun? Because I don’t care about you? And yeah, maybe I didn’t want you at the girls’ nights, but what does that matter-”

“It matters because!–” he stops himself in his tracks, hand coming out to halt you. “Fuck it, wait here,” he orders, and suddenly he is trudging into the darkness of the courtyard. You stand still, flabbergasted, and thoroughly confused. It’s so dark you can’t even see what he’s doing, only hear him in the dirt, silhouette blending into the shadows. Then, he’s walking back to you and you finally see him.

There are flowers in his hands.

It’s a makeshift bouquet, held tightly in between his veiny, pale hands, consisting of flowers that grow in the courtyard, red, yellow and lilac. It’s a slow-burning realization as he stands himself before you, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that is laced with pain. You know this part of the girl code.

“Hi, Y/n, how are you?” he breathes, and his voice is shaking and he’s looking at you and practically begging you to play along - to indulge him, even if you would turn your back on him. You can hardly register anything but him and those flowers, because your surroundings, the moon, the stars, the shadows and the streets are overpowered by the blooming in your chest. A single flower unfurls the pedals of your heart until you are open before him. You meet his eyes.

“I’m good.”

He nods.

“I’ve always thought you were very beautiful,” it almost seems like it physically pains him to admit these breathless feelings. “Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date,” another pained, gulping pause. “Would that be okay with you?”

It’s as if time has stopped in this moment; how his chest rises and falls under his shirt, how his hair gently nuzzles his face, how his eyes blear out at you from underneath his bangs, how he glows in the moonlight, and how his hands shake around the stems of the flowers.

“Was I..” his voice is hoarse, “Was I suave about it?”

“Yes,” is all you can manage, because all those flowers that you had stomped into a half-death were coming alive again and this time it was more than welcome.

“Yes?”

“Yes, you can take me on a date,” you break into a wide smile and, upon realizing you probably look like an idiot, you lower your gaze and your warm, shining cheeks to the pavement. He gasps, and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever heard.

“But- you and Wonwoo-?”

“Do you wanna know why I was even talking to Wonwoo?” you ask, and when you meet his eyes again, he’s also smiling. You can’t help but reach out a hand to wrap around one of his, still frozen in holding the flowers. He quickly maneuvers the bouquet to the other hand and intertwines your fingers. Your heart soars. “Mingyu found out that I was sad because you had a crush on someone - I didn’t think it was me, you know? So he promised to wingman me at this party.”

“Son of a bitch,” Jihoon whispers, and you laugh, feeling so floaty and lovely. “Don’t call him that,” you say, but Jihoon only smiles cheekily, eyes matching the crescent moon in the sky above you.

“No, I meant me,” he says. He looks down at the flowers and frowns. “Is that why you were so quiet? On girls night?”

You nod and he sighs. “I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. You’re so sweet,” you say genuinely, and Jihoon nearly melts at how much you mean it. There’s something so wonderful about the way all the words, that he would never use to describe himself, float around your head and sparkle in your eyes in this moment, looking up at him.

Jihoon needs to kiss you. He’s not sure he’s ever needed anything as badly. He rips his free hand from yours only to place it tenderly against your cheek, pulling your face and your warmth into him, bouquet held out at his side to allow you snugly in his chest.

His lips are so soft and his nose nuzzles your own, plush hair tickling your forehead, and his huffed out breaths dance along your cheeks. Your lips mod perfectly, unlocking the shackles with which that earth-shattering yearning had held onto you. The world is anguish but will momentarily and suddenly be interrupted, cleaved apart with a sudden gash, by a planet-killer: love.

You truly don’t mean to make it heated, hell, you’d be content just kissing him forever, feeling how his tongue prods at your lips and meets your own, but his sculpted chest under your fingers draws out a pathetic moan. His eyebrows spring up and he pulls back to look at you. You blush under his gaze, fiddling with your dress.

“Holy fuck, that was so fucking hot,” he gasps, lips swollen from your insistent sucking on them, panting into the night air. You brighten at his compliment. “Inside. Now. To my room.”

“You know, girl code says to not have sex before on the third date,” you say smugly, unprepared when his free hand pushes you back into his chest, and his lips drag over half of your face, finding home at your ear. His voice is a growl: “Fuck. Girl code.”

He begins a somewhat dramatic march to the front door and you can’t help but run after him, taking his hand, and seeing how he smiles at that feeling. He looks so happy. Your heart skips a beat, because it’s you - you’re the one making him so happy.

And he’s so hot, it’s all you can think about as he drags you along the corridors, how nice his arms look in the sleeves denim, how pretty his hair is, his fucking face, and the chest you just barely felt under your fingertips. You’re watching doors pass in a monotonous routine, jittery and unable to wait for the one that might be his, for him to take you through it, and for you to bloom, totally and perfectly under him.

“Fucking finally,” he breathes, voice gruff and much lower than you’re used to when he stops at his door, fishing for his keys in his pocket. It enters the lock and with a click, everything you fantasized about is opening to you.

As soon as you’re inside, he’s kicking the door shut and pushing you against the wall, nails gripping into your dress, when he finally drops the makeshift bouquet on his nightstand. He cries out into your mouth at the way your chest bounces from the impact, immediately capturing your lips in his again.

You can’t help the way you’re tugging at his hair, trying to ground yourself in the feeling of him, when he shoves a thigh between your legs. You moan into his mouth, rutting into him, while his wandering hands pull your skirt up you to pool around your waist. He pulls back to look at you, how your hips cant into his strong, big thigh, and how your pink, lacey panties cling to your wet pussy.

“Off,” he mumbles, apparently having decided that the simple tugging of the fabric of your dress won’t be enough. You turn around in a daze, not even uttering a word, simply shoving the zipper at the back of it.

Jihoon groans, he has to, seeing the way you stick out your ass to him, while your hand lay flat on the wall. You shake your hips teasingly at him, and his hands float to your ass, petting it and squeezing it in his fingers, and biting his lips because it looks so fucking good and plump, and there’s a wet spot in your panties. He grabs your hips and rubs his dick into you. You gasp at the feeling, nails scratching against the wall.

“You make me so hard, baby,” he says breathlessly, unable to help himself humping against you, pre-cum spilling from his tip. “Shit,” he grunts, and you’re squeezing your eyes closed at the outline of his dick pressing into your pussy.

Finally Jihoon collects himself and his cold hands drag the zipper down. The top of your dress loosens and slides down your shoulders, where Jihoon aids you in slipping it off. His hands spin you around, finally taking a breath to marvel your bare chest in front of him.

You blush, suddenly so bashful, when just before you were wiggling your ass at him. You curl your arms over your chest, but Jihoon’s own come to stop them. “No, no, no, no,” he tuts, almost sad, “why are you doing that?”

You don’t answer immediately, but apparently it’s not a rhetorical question. His hands intertwine with yours to prevent you from covering yourself up. “Uh, I don’t know,” you stammer sheepishly, “I don’t wanna, like, kill the mood or any-”

“You’re not killing the mood, pretty,” Jihoon whispers so, so achingly sincere and your heart hurts.

“Sorry, it was just-”

“Don’t say sorry,” he lectures, interrupting again. He tilts his head and he looks at you with a flaming intensity. “Try again.”

You pause, flustered out of your mind.

“I-I’ve just been feeling a little insecure lately, I guess,” you say and you’re positive your face is beet-red, but if it is Jihoon says nothing, only pouts and releases one hand only to direct your eyes back to his with a hand on your chin.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n,” he says and even when you seek it out, you can’t find even the slightest hint of lying in his voice. “I want to show you, but I can’t do that if you cover up. Understand?”

You nod, lips breaking into a little smile, that his heart becomes hot like the spring-sunshine. “Okay,” you say and he smiles brightly, releasing your chin from between his fingers.

He guides you onto the bed, but it’s no longer heated and rushed, it’s so soft and gentle, and he pulls off your underwear only after you whisper in agreement, and then he lowers himself into it, again, only allowing himself the pleasure when you whisper a strained yes and nod vigorously.

He fully makes out with your pussy - his lips are wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking it, and fucking moaning into it, sending vibration straight to the coil in your stomach. You’re moaning so loud, broken cries bouncing off the walls, while your finger wrap into his hair and your legs thrash. His tongue flattens against your folds, then dips down to trail around your slit.

“Jihoon!” you cry, hips bucking into his mouth. He groans again, releasing your pussy with a soft pop. “Fuck, baby, keep saying my name like that.” And then his face disappears in your pussy again.

And you do, everytime his nips and gums on your sensitive folds, tongue trailing back up to your nub to fully envelop it. He sucks, hard. And you think you might cum the second you look at him, because the image of his full head of hair buried in between your legs and lapping like a starved man is so pornographic, your head spins.

He might go insane from just the taste of you, he realizes, because even when you cry that you’re cumming, and your legs shake around his head and your pussy is soaked with your cum, he can’t bring himself to pull away, strong arms wrapping around stomach to still you as you begin to wiggle from the feeling of his tongue just continuing to lap at you.

“Jihoon! Fuck, t-too much,” you whimper and the sound shoots straight to his cock. He finally pulls away, eyes still trained on your pretty cunt, and the way it clenches around nothing. “Clenching so hard, sweetheart, only for there to be nothing, shouldn’t we fix that?” he hums, leaning down to trail his finger through your folds, gathering your wetness on its tip.

You whimper uncertainly, when he crawls back over your body, hair tickling your face when hovers just above you and he shushes your pathetic squeaks. He pushes the wet finger into your mouth and you suck obediently. “Shh, baby, just taste yourself on my finger, how can you be insecure with a pussy like that, hm?”

You cry around his single digit, tongue sliding over it eagerly. He wants to fuck your face, the way your pretty, plump lips wrap around his finger, but he’ll save that for another time. “Shh, baby, I know. You’ll be stuffed full of cock soon, don’t worry,” he rasps soothingly, and slips his drenched finger from your mouth.

Finally, he rips the denim jacket off, white tee following soon after, and you’re left, mouth gaping, at the how toned his stomach is, how big his pecs are and how fucking thick his arms are at his side.

“You’re so fucking hoot, Hoonie,” you drawl, making grabby hands to urge him back to you. He smiles at those words, even gains a small dusting of pink on his cheeks, but he shakes his head. “Gotta get my pants off, baby.”

“Hurry up,” you grin playfully, and he scoffs at you from where he stands, pants and boxers coming off in one fell swoop. “So needy,” he mumbles to himself, but you can tell by the overjoyed expression on his face, that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

His cock is finally freed, and your eyes float to it, drinking in the sight of him. He’s so pretty and so red, and a single vein creeps up its curved surface towards the oozing head. You gulp, eyes sparkling.

“Wan’ it in my mouth,” you mumble, where you’re now half sitting up and glowing from your first orgasm. Jihoon looks at you and laughs, as he climbs on top of you again.

His face hovers over yours, finger carding through your hair tenderly. He looks in your eyes. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He coos at you, eyes flickering to your lips for a moment, and you feel his cock twitch where it rests heavily on your stomach. “Not right now, pretty, I wanna fuck you.”

“You don’t have to cum-” you reason, mouth practically watering at the thought of having him in your mouth. He stops you though, hand still brushing through your hair, so delicately, as if you were a lily, or a rose, or a tulip.

“I’m not gonna be able to hold back if you look at me like that with my fucking cock in your mouth,” he whispers, and it’s so intimate, despite being so vulgar. How warm you both are, naked and holding onto each other and his dick is oozing onto your stomach and your pussy is leaking onto his sheets. “Like that,” Jihoon emphasizes, when you look up at him adoringly. You smile.

“Okay,” you say, a determined look on your face, “later then.”

He laughs. “Eager baby. Relax, you’re gonna get a pussy full of cock now, your mouth can wait.”

You wanna retort, say something snarky, anything, but you’re abruptly interrupted by the feeling of his cock pushing into you. You moan and your nails claw at his back, because it’s so big and so raw in your pussy, you feel that fucking vein dragging against your walls. “Shit, Hoonie. Fuck, fuck.”

He’s groaning too, hands on your waist and face in your neck. “So fucking tight, so pretty.”

You’re both panting when his cock is fully nestled inside you, sitting snug against your walls. You look up at him and he’s pretty, all flushed and lips swollen, and the sight makes you clench. He hisses, jerking abruptly, making the both of you moan.

“Fuck, baby, can’t just clench on me like tha-”

“Please, please, just fuck me now, can’t wait anymore!” you cry, clawing at him, nails raking over his flexed biceps, where he holds onto you. And he can’t help but fulfill your wish.

You honestly don’t know where he gets his stamina, because the second you’re done asking, he’s ramming into you so hard and so fast, your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open in a long whine. The whole bed is shaking from the impact, as his hips sheath and unsheath from your warm, welcoming pussy.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he drawls, hands trailing up from your waist to your bouncing chest, thumbing over your nipples. “Bet Wonwoo wishes he got to see you like this, hm?”

The way your pussy has his cock in a chokehold, the way you’re lying beneath, it has him fully dazed, and now he babbles all that comes to mind. “Yeah, but you’re mine, princess. No one else gets to see you like this, no one else can have you crying like this for their cock, right?”

“N-No one else,” you whimper, sopping cunt clenching and unclenching around his dick. “That’s right,” he pants, humid breath on your cheek, “Say you’re mine, pretty girl, say you’re fucking mine.”

“A-ah, ‘m yours, Hoonie,” you cry and he thinks he might cum just like that, at your blissed face, glowing beneath him, and your pussy sucking him in, and you obeying him thoughtlessly.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he rewards you by dragging his hand down your stomach to rub your clit. Your whole body convulses into his, hands dragging over his big arms for support. “Come on, sweetheart, cum on my cock now.”

And you do, the tension in your stomach tightening beyond what you can take, before it finally unfurls, and it blooms, and it’s spring, and your squirting all over Jihoon’s abs, because God, he’s so fucking hot and he fucks you silly with his dumb, big muscles and his dumb, cute face.

The sight of your squirting, thrashing and shaking underneath him is all he needs. Jihoon shoots you full of his cum, making you feel so full and wet, before he finally halts his rutting hips, stilling on top of you.

You’re both panting. You’re sweating so much, your hair sticks to your forehead, and you’re gasping for air. Jihoon is still on top of you, holding himself up somehow, and licking at your neck appreciatively.

There’s a pause, where you’re basking in each other's warmth, and there’s so much love between you it’s almost suffocating. Then you're narrowing your eyes at the head of hair in your neck, growing suspicious.

“... Are you still hard?”

He laughs into your neck, peering up at you with a sheepish smile.

“Are you still open to that dick-sucking thing?” _____________________________

“So,” Yeri trails off.

You’re sitting in front of her, Seulgi and Irene at the campus cafe after a thorough round of congratulating you and Jihoon’s new relationship. They’d been both surprised and somehow not-at-all-surprised.

“He can’t come to girls night anymore,” Irene states the obvious, and immediately you, Seulgi and Yeri are nodding along.

“Thank God, I wasn’t the only one thinking that.”

“It just wouldn’t work,” you supply, agreeing.

There’s a pause. Seulgi pouts. “I can’t believe we don’t have a son anymore. They grow up so fast,” she says and she sounds genuinely sad about it.

You sigh a little, debating whether or not to play this card. Then you say: “I know someone who would like to be our son.”

“Oh, no..”

“Don’t say..”

“Yep,” you shrug, and then you hear him. Lumbering clumsily down the hall, like a galloping horse.

“I HEAR THERE’S A NEW POSITION OPEN DURING GIRLS NIGHTS!!!!! I MADE MUFFINS!!”

Mingu is running through the cafe, dodging stools and chairs like he’s on Ninja Warrior.

Irene frowns. “I guess he’ll do as our new son.”

“We can always kick him out if he gets too annoying,” Yeri shrugs, just in time for Mingyu to stand before your table with a fresh tray of muffins.

“Yes!” he cries with glee, voice incredibly high because he just can’t believe it.

“Begging always works!”

#svt smut #svt x reader #woozi smut #woozi angst #woozi fluff #woozi x reader #svt woozi x reader #lee jihoon x reader #jihoon x reader #jihoon smut #svt angst

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literaryavenger · 5 months

Text

New Year's Eve

Summary: A game of two truths and a lie reveals to the team a fact about the you that Bucky can’t seem to stop thinking about.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language 'cause why not. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny. Mutual pining, idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts.

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Happy New Year's Eve! Thanks for all the messages when I was sick, I'm finally feeling better and I'm negative for Covid! I really wanted to post something for New Year's Eve and this came from a fever dream I had when I was sick, lol. I hope it's any good and someone enjoys it! A particular thank you to @ordelixx for helping me with this story!💘I've only started posting here about a month and a half but I'm really enjoying it and feeling more and more comfortable in my writing. I hope I'm also getting better at it. Anyway, I have big plans for the New Year that I hope you'll enjoy! This year hasn't been great for me, but I'm planning on working harder than ever to make sure the next one is a year I can be proud of. I hope you guys have a nice last day of 2023 and an amazing start of 2024! Love you all.💘

Masterlist

“Ok, your turn, Kill Bill. Two truths and a lie, go.” Tony says, referring to the fact that you fight with swords, making you roll your eyes before you join in on the laughter.

“Ok, uhm...” you try not to look at anyone so you don’t give away the answer “I have a teddy bear that I sleep with, I have bungee jumped from the top of the tower and I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.”

You look back up to the room and wait for their guesses.

It’s a Friday night and the people that remained in the Tower for the holidays decided to have a little game night.

Every year the same people stay around, having nowhere in particular to go, and spend Christmas together.

Clint and Scott usually spend this time with their families, this year Thor decided to go to New Asgard with Bruce and Loki to visit Val and Korg, and Peter decided to spend it with aunt May and Happy.

You usually alternate between going to visit your family and staying in the tower each year, and this one was your turn to go to your first home.

You came back the day after Christmas, never being one to miss Tony’s New Year’s Eve party that’s gonna happen in two days now.

“Well, we know she has a teddy bear.” Wanda says.

“Do we know that?” Tony turns to you, narrowing his eyes. “Do you have one?”

“Yes, she does, we’ve seen it” Natasha answers for you while you glance at Bucky, praying he doesn’t put together that they’re talking about the teddy bear he gifted you for Valentine’s Day this year along with flowers.

Natasha and Wanda were more happy than you when you told them, sustaining that he did it because he liked you until you pointed out that he gave flowers to them too, because he’s sweet and a gentleman and that’s just who he is.

They wouldn’t let up on the fact that neither of them got a teddy bear though, and you would have agreed with them but Bucky never really did anything else about it so you decided to let it go and not read too much into it.

You're brought back to the present by Tony.

“Ok, so she has one. Then it’s gotta be the New Year’s kiss, everyone has had one at least once in their life,” he was looking at your reaction very closely while talking, but you did your best to keep an easy smile and not give anything away.

“Even Captain Virgin over there had one last year.” he adds vaguely waving towards Steve’s general direction.

You crack at the nickname and at the undignified sound Steve made while blushing and glancing at Nat that shared that kiss with him.

“Tony, there’s no way that she bungee jumped from the roof without us knowing, that’s gotta be the lie.” Sam interjects, also watching you closely for any signs of a reaction that you manage not to give.

“Alright, just take your guesses, people.” You say to the group.

“New Year’s Kiss.” Tony all but yelled, Natasha and Wanda agreeing with him.

“Bungee jump.” Sam says and Steve and Bucky agree, then they all seem to hold their breath as they wait for your answer.

It’s not a surprise that even these stupid little games cause a lot of competition amongst the team.

“Neither.”-you finally said and let out a laugh when they all groan in annoyance while taking their shots for guessing wrong.

“WAIT- you bungee jumped off the ROOF? When?!” Steve seems more concerned than anything.

“Well, you know a few months ago when we happened to all be on different missions at the same time?” They nod, not knowing where you're going with this “Clint and I came back first from ours, we were bored and there was no one around to stop us from doing anything stupid so…” you trail off, shrugging while laughing.

Steve looks shocked, Sam is laughing his ass off while Tony immediately goes to look for the security footage.

They all cheered while watching you throw yourself off the roof, Clint's yells and laughter could be heard, and then Steve shakes his head while joining you in the laughter when you see Clint take his turn and scream like a little girl while you fall to the ground laughing on the video.

Once you all composed yourselves, Tony pokes Wanda’s arm “I thought you said she had a teddy bear.” he's looking at her like she brought him on a treasure hunt and then betrayed him and left him for dead on a deserted island.

“She does! She got it from-” you interrupt her before she can finish the sentence, blushing a little and avoiding Bucky’s eyes.

“I do have a teddy bear, I just don’t sleep with it.” you say, shrugging.

“Oh, come on, that’s cheating!” Natasha whines.

“It’s really not, just because I do have one it doesn’t mean I didn’t tell a lie about it” you laugh at her pout.

“Wait a minute, so you’ve never had a New Year’s kiss?” Tony looks at you like you suddenly grew two heads.

“It’s not a big deal. Funny thing is, I have had boyfriends during New Year’s Eve, I just never happen to spend the day with them.” you say absentmindedly while thinking back at all the parties you’ve been to over the years to celebrate the new year.

“Really?” it's so quiet you almost missed it, your eyes snapping up to meet Bucky’s that were already looking at you.

“Is that so hard to believe?” The room seems to go quiet as everybody looks at you two, but you're too focused on each other to notice.

“I didn’t- I mean…” his cheeks started to turn a little pink as he seemed to have trouble finishing his sentence “It’s just you’re very pretty, who wouldn’t want to kiss you?”

You didn’t know what to say to that, you start blushing too while opening and closing your mouth a couple of times, looking like a damn fish.

You settle for a quiet ‘thank you’ with a smile that he shyly returns, neither of you noticing the glances passed by everyone else.

The whole team is convinced that there’s something between you and Bucky, but both of you always deny it and don’t seem to read too much into each other’s actions, always dismissing the glances and lingering touches as friendly affection even though you’re not really that close.

But really what else could it be?

The team lets the moment end and the game goes on, everyone keeps drinking and having fun until it gets really late and you all decide to call it a night.

Bucky goes to his bedroom and gets ready for sleep but he can’t seem to focus on anything else but you.

He really doesn’t understand how can anybody see your pretty self when you’ve just woken up, no makeup and your eyes full of sleep and not want to kiss you, let alone when you are all dolled up in a pretty golden dresses like you do every New Year’s.

Every year it gets harder for him not to just grab you and kiss you, hell every day is pretty much torture to see you around the Compound and not get to be with you the way he wants to.

But he has to keep his hands to himself because there’s no way you could actually like him like that.

He’s even tried to drop hints here and there like giving you the teddy bear for Valentine’s Day but, except for the cute shade of pink that your face turned, you still didn’t seem all that interested.

Still, that didn’t stop him from thinking what it would be like if you did like him and fantasize about being your first New Year’s kiss and maybe even your last first kiss.

At the same time you were in your own room getting ready for bed while your own thoughts kept going back to the moment you shared with Bucky in the living room.

You didn’t know if you were more embarrassed because you actually told the team you’ve never had a kiss on New Year’s Eve or happy because Bucky called you pretty.

If it was anyone else you wouldn’t even think twice about it, but coming from him it just felt like you were being complimented for the first time ever.

Everytime you thought about it you felt all warm and fuzzy inside, and at this point the moment was pretty much on loop in your mind.

The more you think about it the more you feel your face heat up, sleep not coming easily as you slip into Bucky filled dreams.

The next day everybody’s hanging out in the living room, most of them nursing a hangover from last night. You get ready for a last minute shopping trip to try and find a new dress for New Year’s Eve.

When you get to the living room you see Steve grinning at a disgruntled Tony, Wanda, Sam and Natasha who are obviously very hangover and nowhere near as amused as the blonde supersoldier.

Bucky’s attention is on you as soon as you're in his field of vision and no one fails to notice it, except you of course, your own attention on Wanda and Natasha sprawled on the couch.

“Well, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to come shopping with me,” you start watching from one to the other, as amused as Steve at everyone’s inability to contain themselves when drinking. “but I don’t think that’s happening.”

“Bite me, YLN.” Is all Nat says.

Wanda, on the other hand, is a little gentler. “I can come with you, if you want.” she says sweetly.

“That’s okay, Wands.” you smile at her “just rest and drink lots of water.”

You turn around, saying bye to everyone and making your way out. As soon as the doors of the elevator close, everyone turns to Bucky that's not even pretending not to be staring anymore.

Not that anyone could ignore the longing look on Bucky’s face as he watches you walk away.

“Buck,” Steve starts talking, glancing at everyone before setting his gaze back on his best friend. “we need to talk.”

“Okay…” he slowly drags out, unsure if he even wants Steve to keep going.

“Well, we’ve been noticing some things lately…” He’s unsure of how to say this. “Between you and Y/N.”

Bucky’s cheeks start to turn a slight shade of pink, but he’s still not sure where Steve’s going with this so he says nothing.

“So we thought” he gestures around at everybody. “that maybe we should-”

“We know you like her, and we want to help you get with her.” Tony interrupts Steve, quickly getting to the point.

At Steve’s glare, Tony merely raises his hands in surrender saying, “Listen, Capsicle, I’m way too hungover to take the panoramic route. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Yeah, Stark’s right.” Sam says, turning Bucky whose face is fully red now. “You have a weak ass game, man. Let us help you.”

They all look at the brunette supersoldier while waiting for his answer. He chews on his lip while looking at the expectant faces of his friends, before letting out a deep sigh.

“How would you even help me?” He says quietly, neither accepting nor denying their help just yet.

“Well, we know Y/N,” Wanda says.

“Yeah, we can tell you what turns her on.” Natasha smirked, before Wanda flicks her ear making her let out an ‘ow’ with a slight pout.

“What she means is,” she glares at Natasha “we can tell you what she likes, you know. Maybe help you get closer to her.”

Bucky shakes his head lightly “This is not a good idea. And it doesn’t even matter if she doesn’t like me.”

Wanda and Natasha seem to have a silent conversation, ending with Natasha raising her eyebrow at Wanda and Wanda just sighing with a soft ‘fine’.

“She does like you.” Wanda turns back to Bucky.

“She’s just convinced that you don’t like her like that.” Natasha says with a roll of her eyes.

Bucky still wasn’t completely convinced, but he agreed nonetheless. Maybe it was the glimmer of hope the girls gave him, but if there was even the slightest chance you could actually like him, he owed it to himself to try.

So he let the team make a plan to get you guys together, hoping to god he wouldn’t come to regret it.

You come home a few hours later, super excited to have found the perfect dress for the party the next night.

Bucky thought you were just so cute, all smiles and giggles.

Wanda and Nat talked you into having the last girls night of the year, although it didn’t really take much convincing.

And so the plan begins.

You’re relaxing on your bed, Wanda lying next to you, your head on her lap, and Nat sprawled on the love seat near the window close to your bed.

You’re wearing bathrobes, sheet masks on your faces as you watch a cheesy romcom that you’re so embarrassingly into you don’t even notice the girls exchange a look and nod at each other.

Wanda clears her throat and then begins talking, as casually as she can. “So, how come you never told us you never had a New Year’s kiss?”

They had to approach the subject somehow, right?

“I don’t know,” you say absentmindedly and then shrug, your attention still on the Tv. “didn’t think it was important.”

“Sure it isn’t.” Nat said, and her tone took your attention away from the movie for the first time since it started.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Tasha?” she simply shrugs, an innocent look in the face.

“It doesn’t mean anything” she says, her attention seemingly on the movie “I mean, if it doesn’t bother you, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Why would it bother me?” you frown, you don't understand what's so weird about this.

“Well, some people might find it a little…” Wanda trails off.

“Sad?” Natasha ends for her.

“It’s not like I’ve never kissed anyone.” you're starting to get a little defensive.

“We know that, sweetie.” Wanda coos, stroking your hair while you look up at her.

“We really didn’t mean anything by it.” Natasha ends, giving you an apologetic look.

“Yeah, whatever.” is all you say, and you turn your eyes back to the tv, your attention nowhere near it.

Natasha and Wanda can basically hear the gears turn in your head and give each other one last glance.

Part one of the plan is complete.

The next day goes through like usual, the team spending basically the whole morning together.

It’s a tradition, having the last breakfast of the year together, watching the last movie, having the last lunch and so on. Doing all the lasts together.

It’s silly, but it’s a tradition you've all come to be very fond of.

The afternoon comes and you and the girls spend it getting ready for the party, last night’s conversation almost forgotten.

Almost.

As you got to the party the music was deafening before you even stepped out of the elevator and, once you did, you were immediately immersed in a sea of perfume and cologne and, like every other Stark party extravaganza, you didn’t know about 98% of the people there.

You quickly find the team, as outgoing as most of them are, you usually spend most of the night together because it’s the last night of the year, last party and, again, it's your tradition.

You talk, you joke, you laugh but the more you drink the more you keep thinking about your conversation with the girls last night.

Was it really that sad that you’ve never started a new year with a kiss?

Midnight came sooner than you would’ve liked and your teammates decide to ask you a sobering question.

“So, who are you kissing?” Tony asks very casually.

You turn around confused, the team’s eyes all on you. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, nobody told you?” Sam says, looking around him “We’re all kissing someone tonight.”

“I- You- What?” you glance towards Bucky so quickly he almost thought he imagined it.

“Well, Romanoff is kissing Rogers, I’m obviously kissing Pepper and Wanda is kissing Wilson.” Tony said, before specifying while pointing at the last two “As friends, obviously.”

“So, you’re all kissing someone?” You look at everyone except the one person you actually want to look at.

Something inside of you just believes that he would nod too and a beautiful woman that you could never compare to would appear at his side.

“Well,” Steve starts. “not all of us…”

He trails off and, following his gaze, you land on the very pair of blue eyes you were trying to avoid.

Suddenly everyone else scatters and it was just you and Bucky. You don't know what to say, but you feel like you can't look away from him now.

What the hell is happening to you?

You’re talking before you can even stop yourself “You know, we could also kiss. As friends.” you add, realizing what you just said, your eyes wide with your own surprise.

He’s about to say something, but you don’t give him a chance to get a sound out before you’re backtracking so fast you might actually fall out the window.

“You don’t have to. Obviously. It’s not like I’d make you.” you chuckled awkwardly, but you can’t stop yourself from rambling “Unless you wanted to. But why would you want to? It’s not like you’re missing anything. I’m not anything special.”

You can hear the countdown starting, but it sounds distant to your ears as your heart pounds faster. “I mean, I’m sure you’re a good kisser. Why wouldn’t you be? Not that you’re like a lady’s man.”

Bucky glances around him, the team giving him encouraging looks as they near zero and you just keep going “But like you were, you know. Not that it’s a bad thi-”

You're thankfully interrupted abruptly by Bucky’s lips on yours just as everyone yells ‘Happy New Year’ and gold and black confetti starts falling down on you.

You can't even begin to comprehend what's happening but your body does, kissing him back almost immediately.

It feels like forever and also too soon when he pulls away, you can't even hearing the chaos around you anymore.

All that exists is you and Bucky and his eyes and his arms around your waist and yours around his neck and his lips that you wanted to kiss again and kiss forever and never stop.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that” he says after a few seconds. Or maybe days. Weeks? Hours? It doesn’t matter.

All that matters is the bright smile he gives you when you say “Me too.”

He kisses you again, but this time the spell is broken by the team’s whistles and cheers.

When you pull away you’re both blushing a little, you glance around you and see all the smug faces of the idiots you love to death, Bucky’s attention never leaving you.

“And by the way,” Bucky says, gaining your attention once more. “you have more qualities than you think,” he then pointed at your chest “You have this.”

You looked down to where he was pointing before saying “I do have great tits, yes.”

When you looked back at him he was blushing even harder and looked like he was having a hard time maintaining eye contact, while you were more relaxed now that the kiss took away all the awkwardness, but trying hard not to laugh.

“... I meant heart” he said after a few moments of silence.

“Either or.” you answered, shrugging and when you heard the snickers of the team around you, you couldn’t help but join them, followed by a still blushing Bucky.

Yep, this year is definitely gonna be an interesting one.

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taestefully-in-luv · 2 years

Text

Rule #5 | JJK (2/2)

Summary: You strike up a fwb deal with your childhood friend Jungkook after kissing him one night after a dare. But you have rules…5 of them to be exact and it seems Jungkook doesn’t want to follow any of them.

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: fwb au, friends to lovers, fluff, maybe a little angst (barely), SMUT

Word Count: 22k (twc:42k)

Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, bit of jealous!jk, jk is a little dry with oc, mentions of discomfort & vulnerability, lots of discussion over ‘control’, open communication :], Taehyung is a meddler. Okay…smut warnings: so much kissing (cute & sloppy), lots of teasing, teasing use of the word ‘slut’, technically switch!oc and switch!jk, finger sucking, dirty talk and comm in general, lingerie (tearing of it too), jk is demanding but so soft, use of restraints and blindfold, boners, vaginal fingering, oral (fem rec), overstimulation, edging, multiple orgasms, multiple orgasm denials, cum eating, clit slapping, cream pie (?), protected sex, rougher with multiple positions. But still so soft. Oc describes feeling of vulnerability during sex. (positive)

Part One

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

It’s over an hour into this double date and you aren’t having a horrible time. Not an amazing time…but not a horrible time. You can see Ara is clearly into the guy across from her, he is handsome and seems to be pretty funny. Even you’ve laughed quite a bit at his playful banter with Ara.

Now, the guy across from you is not as outgoing as Ara’s date. He’s almost intimidatingly handsome, sharp eyes that come across off as judgmental. But you realized the judgmental one is you because as soon as he talks he is soft spoken and kind. He’s just a bit shy.

Chul, Ara’s date is sharing a few stories about a disastrous holiday work party last year. You and Ara both cracking up when Ren, your date, chimes in. “I just hope this year isn’t as bad.”

“Well, maybe it won’t be if these two wonderful ladies accompany us.” He winks at Ara who just rolls her eyes, but you can see the blush on her cheeks.

“It’s summer.” She points out, “You’re already trying to plan for something so many months in advance?”

“Is it bad to be that hopeful?” Chul eyes Ara innocently and you can’t help but snort but you quickly cover your mouth.

“Sorry, sorry.” You conceal a smile, “I didn’t mean to make that sound.”

“It’s okay.” Ren chuckles quietly, “Chul really is that hopeful.” Then he leans over the table a little, eyes on you. “He’s been talking about Ara nonstop since they started chatting.”

“Oh.” You glance at Ara who is giggling to something else Chul said, “It seems like they’re hitting it off then.”

“Yeah.” Ren takes a look at the other two as well before whispering, “Should we give them some space?”

You turn your head back to Ren with wide eyes and then decide maybe he’s right so you nod. He smiles as he stands up and gestures towards the bar instead of the table you four are currently occupying, “We can grab another drink.”

You stand as well and you both make it to the bar top and take a seat at the stools, “I don’t think they even noticed that we left.” You laugh.

“Highly doubt it.” Ren shakes his head gently, “He was nervous to come by himself, honestly. So he asked me to come too.” Then his eyes expand, “But I mean, after seeing your photo it’s not like he had to force me.”

You giggle at this, “It’s okay. I get it.”

He relaxes, “If I’m being honest with you…I’m kind of going through a break up.”

“Ah really?” You tilt your head, “Rough breakup?”

“Yes and no.” He sighs out, smile tugging at his lips. “It was clean and mutual but for some reason that’s what’s making it feel so rough.” He laughs. “Sorry, probably not the topic of conversation you are wanting to have.”

“Can I be honest too?” You show him a crooked smile and he nods. “I wasn’t necessarily thrilled about going on a double date. Like, in general.” You decide to clarify, “Nothing against you, of course. I’m also helping out a friend.” And he nods in understanding since he’s doing the same thing. “But it feels strange for some reason. Being here.”

“Strange?” He lifts his brows in concern, “Did I do something?”

You’re quick to wave your hands around, shaking your head. “No. No.”

“Then?”

“Fine, I’ll tell you but you cannot tell anyone.” You chuckle to yourself, “Well, not Ara, anyway.”

Ren eyes you curiously, “Are you seeing someone else?” He guesses almost correctly.

“Yes and no.” You repeat his answer from earlier. “It’s complicated but not complicated.” You shrug now, “I have a friends with benefits?”

“That’s a question?” He grins at you. “But wow, good luck with that.”

“Good luck?” You ask, amused.

“Yeah.” He nods. “I mean, unless your relationship is strictly the benefits and hardly friends then I guess it could work.”

You blink at him before your cheeks heat up and you frown, “He’s one of my best friends actually. Not to mention my friend since we were kids. Super close.”

“Then I will emphasize my ‘good luck’ because you’ll need it.” He chuckles. “Be prepared for chaos.”

“Actually that’s highly unlikely.” You say confidently. “We have rules in place. So things don’t get chaotic. Everything is under control.”

“Rules?” He raises a single brow, “Which are?”

“Well,” You look up, trying to recall the rules. “First one is that we can’t tell anyone and the sec—”

“—Didn’t you just break the first rule?” He snorts, “No offense, but I don’t feel confident in your other rules now. You’re probably breaking those too.”

“Wow,” You look at him, surprised. “How dare you call me out? I thought you were shier than this?”

“Well, considering we’ve been honest about why we’re here, I feel more comfortable” He smiles at you.

“So comfortable that you can tease me like that?” You laugh, “But you’re the first person I’ve told!”

“Regardless of your other rules,” Ren softens, “Going out on a date feels strange? Are you not overthinking yet? You know, the ‘why’?”

“Why would I?” You ask and Ren studies you for a moment. He doesn’t know you like that but why do you look so genuine, like you really don’t understand.

“How would you feel if he was out right now? With someone else?”

“Like on a date?”

“Yeah.”

“He wouldn’t.” You shrug, “He—”

“—Maybe that’s why you aren’t overthinking it.” He realizes, “Because you feel like you don’t have to worry about him getting busy with someone else. And this double date doesn’t have meaning for you so what’s to overthink, huh?” He chews on his bottom lip, “But does he know you’re here? How would he feel?”

“He…” You pause, trying to really think about it. Well, he wouldn’t mind. Just a week ago you were both going to hook up with other people. He doesn’t get jealous. He doesn’t care. “He wouldn’t care.” You finally say, “He would probably brush it off.”

“Because he knows the context or because he doesn’t care if you see someone else?” Ren questions you, small grin. “Because those are two different things. And if he finds out, do you think he will assume the context? That you’re just here for you friend. Or will he assume you’re wanting to see other people?”

“Why do I feel like I’m speaking to a therapist?” You joke.

Ren laughs, apology in his eyes. “Sorry, sorry. It’s easier to focus on someone else’s problems instead of my own.”

“Oh, right. Your clean but rough break up.”

“Exactly. Together two years but going on different paths.”

“Ah,” You nod in understanding. “Aka, you’re still in love but the logical decision is to part ways.”

“Exactly.” Ren looks shy again. “What’s the saying? Right person wrong time?”

“I guess they say that for a reason.”

“I feel like we should probably order a drink now.” Ren chuckles, “And don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

It’s a little after 9 when the double date comes to an end. Ara is definitely giving you the look. She’s totally going to spend more time with Chul so you give her a hug and wave bye to the two men. Ren was super nice the entire evening. You two continued to talk at the bar but it’s clear there isn’t anything there between you both. You’re relieved he wasn’t interested either.

Once in your car you try to decide what to do—go home or call Jungkook. You’re honestly proud but upset with yourself, for yesterday. You loved teasing him but his offer to finger you quickly in his closet also sounded tempting and nothing feels better than Jungkook making you come.

You won’t lie…you feel a little needy and getting touched by Jungkook sounds like the perfect Saturday night. Plus, you kind of wore what you’re wearing for a purpose. You perhaps planned ahead—you’re wanting to see Jungkook. Pulling out your phone from your bag, you find Jungkook’s name and press ‘call’. It’s ringing and ringing and you think he won’t answer. Maybe he’s busy? Then Ren’s words from earlier make you stomach do its usual twisting. No, he wouldn’t be out with someone else.

“Hello?” He finally answers. He’s quiet and his voice came out in a mumble. Maybe he was asleep..

“Hey.” You respond, “Were you sleeping?”

“No.” He says simply. “What’s up?” Still mumbling.

“Well,” You press the phone harder to your ear, his voice is too quiet. “Are you busy?”

“Nah.”

“Okay…” You say slowly, “Want to hang out?”

He silent on the other end, soft breaths barely even heard. “Hello?” You check to see if he’s still there. “Jungkook?”

“What?” He asks with a bite to his voice. “What’s up?”

“No, I was just seeing if you wanted to hang out, jeez, never mind then.” You respond equally annoyed.

“No, wait.” He sighs out, “Sorry, I was just—sure, you can come here if you want.” He tells you.

“If I want?” You frown to yourself, “I’ll only go if it’s what you want.”

“You’re so annoying, y/n.” He kind of laughs to himself but it’s distant. “Yeah, I want you to come over.”

“Hmm,” You try to tease him, it sounds like he’s in a bad mood. Maybe he had a long day. “I don’t know.” You hum. “Should I?”

“Yeah,” He tells you dryly.

You try to brush it off, “Okay, well, I’m actually nearby so I’ll be there in like ten.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” You take a breath, “See you soon.”

“Just let yourself in.” He says before hanging up.

Well, okay. You’re wondering if he had to go into work today and it was long and stressful…hopefully seeing you could make him feel a little better. He can get moody sometimes so it’s not like you aren’t used to it. But it always sucks when he’s dry with you.

Before you know it, you’re entering his apartment. It’s dark inside, all of the lights turned off in the living room as well as the kitchen. Once you’ve slipped your shoes off you start walking towards the back, a soft glow coming from the long hallway where his bedroom is located. You get closer to his bedroom, his door only cracked open, where the only light in his apartment is spilling through.

You gently push it open and see Jungkook laying on his bed, propped up on the pillows while he scrolls through his phone. His eyes lift from his phones screen and checks you out shamelessly but he keeps his face neutral.

“Nice dress. New?” He asks before his eyes go back to his phone.

“Oh.” You look down at your outfit. A black dress that falls right above your knees, it hugs your body in all the right ways with a revealing neckline. “Yeah, I was shopping around before I came over yesterday.” You tell him.

“Right.” He answers, eyes on his phone. “Cool.”

“Yeah.” You say the word slowly, eyeing him as you continue to stand by the doorway. “Are you okay?”

Jungkook sighs before clicking his phone off and throwing his legs over the edge of the bed to sit up, “I’m great.” He says with a straight face. “What about you?”

“I’m good.” You walk closer to the bed, hesitantly looking at the spot next to him before taking a seat. “You seem annoyed.”

Jungkook chuckles dryly, “What, that’s crazy.”

“Jungkook—”

“—But enough about me,” He turns his head towards you and smiles. “How was your date?”

Your eyebrows climb up your forehead in surprise, “Huh?” You blink at him. “How…how did you know about that?”

“Taehyung.” He keeps his eyes on you. “He mentioned it last night after you left.”

“Taehyung?” You look more confused.

“Ara told him, I guess.” He shrugs, “Anyway, how was it?”

“It—”

“—You look really nice. Bet the dude was all over you, huh?” His expression is completely unreadable but you’re trying to understand his annoyance. You can read into it that much.

“He wasn’t.” You furrow your brows, “It really—I’m sorry…” You shake your head just slightly. “Are you mad about this?”

“Do I look happy?” He narrows his eyes. “You didn’t even tell me.”

“It wasn’t…I didn’t think it would matter?” You mumble, “I didn’t think it was something you’d mind?”

Jungkook’s eyes somehow narrow more, a look of disbelief on his face. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously.” You answer, your own annoyance starting to build. “Why should—”

“You know what,” Jungkook releases a long puff of air, his eyes leaving yours to stare down at his lap. “I mean, you’re right. Why should I mind? It’s always been clear I have no control over you and what you do, who you see—”

“Oh my god,” You huff out, eyes rolling. “You realize controlling someone like that is bad, right?”

His eyes widen before he’s snapping his head to face you, “No, no. I know.” He rushes to say, “Not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“That,” He stares at you, his eyes are now doe like and innocent and you see some guilt swirling in them. “I don’t know.” He admits.

“You don’t like that you didn’t know I was on a date with someone?” You ask him directly.

“Yeah, no, I did not like it.” He tells you honestly. “Not just that I didn’t know. I don’t like that you went out with someone in general.”

“Oh.” You nod your head a little, trying to understand. He doesn’t look away from you, his eyes boring into yours and you stare back just as intently.

You didn’t think he would care. Especially because this double date wasn’t like…it was literally meaningless and for Ara. But he doesn’t know that. You continue to look at him before softening, “Why?”

“I don’t know.” He tells you. “I’ve been sleeping with you for like 4 months now. Kind of hate the idea of sharing at this point.” He scoffs to himself before glancing down again, his voice gone quieter. “You make me feel like I don’t have any control over anything.”

You frown a little at his words, “Jungkook…” Your hand goes to his thigh. “Last week you didn’t care though? If we—”

“—I knew damn well we weren’t actually going to hook up with anyone else.” He cuts in, looking dejected.

“Oh.”

“I might not be cut out for this kind of arrangement.” He tells you, eyes still on his lap. “I thought I was but finding out you were out with someone else made me feel like…” He looks back up, contemplating his words. “Like you’re just playing with me.”

You push your head back, confusion on your features. “I’m not.” You say quickly. “God, I would never—”

“—I know.” He cuts you off, “But I’m so into what we do but you aren’t satisfied with me?” He looks hurt as he asks that. “You feel the need to—” “—No.” You squeeze his thigh. “It wasn’t a real date or anything. It was just for Ara…the guy and I both made it clear we weren’t interested in one another. Seriously, Jungkook.” You gaze at him, trying to get your words across. “I’m telling the truth.”

“Not a real…date?” He questions you, “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think to say anything because it was barely on my mind!” You lean into him, “Seriously, Jungkook. I don’t want you to feel like I’m not enjoying this.” You squeeze his thigh again. “I am. More than anything else right now.”

He raises a brow at you, his expression looking less serious. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” You nod. “So…” You start nibbling on your lips, feeling anxious now. “Don’t say something like you aren’t cut out for this…we’re having fun, right? You’re enjoying it too, right?”

He looks wary to answer for a moment.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah.” He blurts, “I am but I think this whole day I had a different mindset and it kind of fucked with me.” Jungkook admits, “I really don’t want to share what we’re doing with anyone else. Is that unfair? Plus, it’s safer that way…” He glances to the side, “But I just feel like I have no reigns over you.”

You stare at him before your lips curve into a subtle smirk, “Is this because you want to make me feel I only belong to you, Jungkook?”

He look taken aback, head already shaking. “I told you, I’m not saying I want to—”

“Do you want to make yours tonight then?” You ask, your voice calm, which only makes him more nervous.

“What are you talking about?” He whispers, brows pinched together.

“You feel like you have no sense of control when you’re with me, right?”

“Okay…” He says slowly.

“Then I’ll give you the control.” Your hand leaves his thigh. “Tonight.”

He leans in a little, eyes boring into yours before he softens, “That’s what you mean…” He pauses. “No.”

“No?”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“There’s always going to be a little discomfort when it comes to vulnerability.” You tell him. “But it’s not like I haven’t fantasized about it. You’re the only one who comes to mind too, when I think about something like that.” You look off to the side, feeling a little embarrassed for admitting that. You aren’t sure you’re a fan of giving up the control to someone else but when you fantasize when you’re alone, the thought of Jungkook makes your body set itself on fire.

Jungkook is quiet as he stares at you, his eyes studying your face with such intensity. “You want to let me have my way with you?” He asks in a whisper. “You want me to be in charge of your pleasure?”

“Believe it or not, but you’ve been in charge of my pleasure for a while.” Your eyes go back to him.

“How so?” He looks down at your lips before going back to your eyes.

“Since you’re the reason for it.” You give a small shrug, “No one else has been a reason for so long.”

“Ah, right.” He smiles, “Around 4 months, huh?”

“Something like that.” You admit and his brows pull together before you speak again. “Don’t overthink that.”

“You want to be mine tonight?” He asks, genuinely. “Because if you give me that permission…god, are you really letting me have that kind of power, y/n?”

“I’m giving you tonight.” You say. “To do whatever you want with me. I’ll be good for you. Just like how you want.” You have a teasing glint in your eye. Like you’re mocking him but you’re also so serious.

His fingers go to your jaw, “You’re always good for me, baby. Believe it or not.” Jungkook smirks and your stomach twists. Again. But the way your stomach is turning isn’t totally uneasy. It’s flopping and making you feel something so strange as it shakes up. You want to think it’s nerves but instead it feels like excitement.

“What exactly do you want to do?” You lean into his touch.

“I want to see you like I’ve never seen you.” He leans in more, his lips ghosting yours. “I want to see you completely lost, completely gone, completely fallen apart. Completely mine.”

“Why do you want me like that so badly?” You whisper against his lips, your eyes beginning to shut.

“Because I’m the only one who will know that side of you, right?”

“You think no guy has ever had me—”

“—No.” He stops you from finishing that, his lips pressing against yours. He’s kissing you slow before pulling back, lips still brushing yours. “Because you only want me to have you, don’t you?”

You exhale a deep breath, your hands going to his neck, fingers gripping his hair as you push your lips against his. Kissing him while breathy moans get shared between you both. You feel needy as you slip your tongue into his mouth, your fingers lost in his hair and an undeniable ache between your legs.

Jungkook’s hands are all over your waist and hips and finally one hands slips behind your neck as well as he deepens the kiss more passionately. He groans into your mouth when he feels how your hand slides down and you cup him over his sweats. He pulls away from you, breathless and you can’t help but look disappointed.

��You really want this?” he asks, eyes on you. “My way?”

“Yes.” You breathe out, “Fuck, yes. I want this, Jungkook—I want you, I want you so badly.”

“Tell me a word you’ll remember.”

“What?”

“A word. Safe word.”

“A safe…” You mumble, “Uh,”

“It’s just so I know if it’s too much, baby. I won’t do anything to hurt you.” His expression loses some of its lewdness as he stares at you. “I’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable, y/n. I just want you to feel good. But if it’s too much, I want you to tell me.”

“Then I’ll just tell you.” You say, “Who says I’ll remember a word if you’re making me fall apart for you, Jungkook.”

“You’re talking like you know I will.” He smirks, lewd expression returning.

“I know you will.” You bite your lips before speaking so slow, the teasing only continuing. “Do you want to fuck me like I’m your slut?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your words. Oh. You’re teasing him. Maybe even mocking but it’s working for him. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, taking his time to breathe. Fuck, you’re something else. “Would you let me?” a sly grin grows on his face. “Hm? Would you let me treat you,” His hand goes to your thighs where the dress rides up, his fingers inch closer to your core. You still, breath hitched as his fingers find the band of your underwear and he dips inside. “Like you’re mine?” Two fingers rub at your clit and he smirks at the wetness that’s pooled. “Someone who is dirty for me? Nasty?” He asks slowly with his deep voice before he’s pulling his hand away and putting his two fingers to your lips.

You glance down at his fingers before your big eyes go to his dark one. “You’re the one who wants me to fuck you like a slut yet you can’t suck on my fingers?” He teases you, softly nudging your lips apart. “I thought you said you’d be good for me, baby.”

You keep quiet, eyes still on him as you let his fingers push through your mouth. Your taste spreads instantly, your tongue recognizing your flavor. You finally lick at his fingers before sucking on them.

“Do you taste good?” He asks you, “You look a little shy like this, y/n.” Jungkook pulls his fingers back, the wet digits outlining yours lips. “You’d rather taste my cum, huh?”

The corner of your lips lift before you answer, “I hope you’d let me.”

“Let you?” He quirks a brow, “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t let you do.”

“Okay.” Your hands go to his chest, before you lean forward and give him a simple kiss. “Then there is nothing I won’t let you do to me too.” You whisper against his lips, “In fact, I am hoping you do everything to me, Jungkook.”

“If I’m lucky you’ll say something like that to me again.” He sighs out when your hand goes back to the bulge in his sweats. “And again.” He closes his eyes now. “And again.” You rub his erection over the clothing, the feeling of it hard beneath your palm. “All,” His breaths become more bated, “The fucking time.”

“If I’m lucky,” You plant another kiss to his parted lips. “Then you’ll make me want to say it to you over and over.”

Jungkook releases a long breath before opening his eyes again, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, guiding your hand away from his body. “What are you wearing under this outfit of yours?”

“Something you’ll like.” You admit almost sheepishly, “It might have been a part of my shopping yesterday.”

“That I’ll like?” His eyes scan your figure, “Yet you wore it on your date?”

“Didn’t wear it for him.” You nudge your nose against his, “Not saying I’m wearing it for y—”

“—No, no…” Jungkook’s hands go to your waist, “I want you to tell me the truth. Did you wear it for me?”

“I’m just saying I know you’ll like it.” You lean away from him a little, eyes looking playful.

“I’ll play along, babe.” Jungkook’s fingers go to your thighs again, his fingers riding up your dress even more, fingers working up your thigh when his expression shifts when he notices something. “But with how this night is going to go, I want you to know that you’ll be admitting every little thing you do that is to please me.”

“You sound confi—”

“—I want you to take off your clothes. Leave on whatever it is you think I’ll like so much. And then lean back on the bed for me.” Jungkook’s hands leave your body and he’s standing from the bed. “I’ll be back.”

Your eyes follow him as he goes into his closet and you’re quickly standing as well. You go to unzip your dress, shrugging it off your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Leaving you in nothing but the lingerie you bought.

You look down at your body, fingers tugging on different parts of the lingerie because suddenly you’re feeling more nervous. Not bad nervous. Thrilled nervous. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, an undeniable warmth surrounding you but god, it feels exciting. You make your way onto Jungkook’s bed, propping yourself up as you lean back on his pillows. One leg down while the other is up, bent at the knee. Then you slide it back down. Then up again. Okay, maybe you are nervous, nervous.

Your eyes trail down your body again, making sure all the lace material is sticking to you in the right ways when you notice the closet light turning off and Jungkook is making his way out. His eyes are on his hands as he inspects the box he’s holding. He comes to the foot of the bed, “Okay,” He starts, “Took me a second to find what I was look—” He lifts his head to lock eyes with you but he’s lost the words he was wanting to say. Lips slightly parted as his eyes widen at the sight. “Oh, fuck.” He swallows.

You stare at him, breaths getting stuck in your throat. “Is that good or bad?” Your hands go to hug yourself a little. He stares back before rolling his head back and he chuckles.

“In what world would that be a bad thing?” He laughs out, his voice sounding deep. “You were right though.” He takes a breath before looking at you again. “I do like what you’re wearing. A lot.”

A small smile begins spreading on your lips before your hands go to your sides, “Oh.”

“I change my mind. Come here, to me. Stand up my pretty girl.” He orders you softly, your body tingling. “I need to see you properly.”

“Jungkook…” You glance to the side, “That feels—”

“—It feels like what I want.” He cuts you off, his eyes darkening. “So be good for me and come here.”

Well, this is what you asked for. You take a deep breath before lifting yourself from his mattress and you try to feel confident even though his eyes are glued to you…it feels like he’s sinking his teeth into every inch of skin your body offers.

“You know, when you look shy like this it only makes me want to have more fun with you, you know that, right?” He smirks, eyes going to your eyes finally.

“I’m not shy.” You mumble, “I’m just…”

“I know.” He softens, he drops the box he’s been holding to his bed before his hand reaches out for you. “Now come here.”

You stand from the bed, legs slowly taking you closer to him. He keeps his hand extended for you and you finally reach for it and he guides you closer and closer. “Let me just look at you.” He says, eyes leaving yours.

Jungkook sees the black straps that cling to your shoulders, raking them lower to see how this lacey black bra is completely see through. He bites down onto his bottom lip, seeing how your nipples poke through the material. His eyes go lower, a brow raising for a moment when he sees the black garter belt wrapped around your waist, above your black and completely see through panties.

“Hm.” His fingers reach to touch the garter belt, he traces one of the suspenders down to where it connects with the lace garter around your thigh. “I knew I felt this when I touched you earlier.” He hums, referring to the garter. “It’s why I asked what you were wearing.”

“I figured.” You say quietly. Breaths bated.

“You look so beautiful.” He tells you just as quiet, “But I need you to turn around for me.”

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks, your own teeth nibbling your lips and Jungkook suddenly looks amused.

“Embarrassed?” He muses, “Here.” He reaches for your hand and lifts it above your head. “Spin for me, baby.”

You exhale a deep breath…you know he’s going to like this. But you feel fucking exposed like this. “Okay.”

You turn slowly, feeling his eyes on your backside. His hand leaves yours before both his hands come to your shoulders and he’s leaning forward, lips pressing against your shoulder. “I thought so.” He whispers. “A thong, huh?” Jungkook chuckles darkly, “Your ass looks amazing.”

“Yeah?” You whisper, cheeks still on fire.

“Mhm.” He says, his hands brushing down your back before he’s cupping your ass in his hands. “You know how badly I want to fuck you?”

“Then fuck me.”

“No.” Jungkook steps away from you, hands going to your shoulders again when he turns you around to face him. “Not yet.”

“Not yet?” You gaze at him, “Don’t tell me something like you want to take your time with me?” You tease. Jungkook lightly scoffs, his hands dropping and fingers curving around your waist.

“That wasn’t going to be my answer but it also works.” He whispers, his eyes are filling with something you don’t totally recognize. “But,” One of his hands leave your waist, fingers trailing up your body before he’s got his fingers brushing one of your cheeks. “My original answer is that I have to ruin you first. Get you so desperate that you’re begging and crying for my cock.” He tells you slowly, fingers still stroking your cheek. “Get you saying and doing anything I want.”

You lick your drying lips, heart rate speeding up in your chest. “You think you’re capable of that?” You aren’t even challenging him. You’re genuinely asking.

“It’s for me.” His fingers stop stroking your cheek, instead he cups your jaw before leaning in and placing a long kiss to your lips. You close your eyes, staying closed even when he pulls away from you. “I think you’d be surprised what you might do for me.”

Eyes opening as you stare into him. Your breaths aren’t as even as you’d like, his words always make your body react even when your brain tells you to calm down. But he might be right. You are also questioning it…what all would you do if it’s with Jungkook?

“Now you can lay on the bed.” He tells you, backing away from your body when he glances down at the mattress where he placed the box he got from the closet. “Once you’re laying down, put your hands together above your head.”

Your hearts stops. “W-What? Why?”

“Because it’s what I want?” He looks at you, “And you trust me, right?”

You sigh out, “Okay, yeah.”

“Then lay down. Put your hands together. And put them above your head.” He grabs the small box from the bed, opening the top and you see exactly what you figured. “Also, have your legs spread a little.”

You can’t help but swallow hard, your knee lifting to the mattress as you make your way to the head of the bed, laying down against his pillows. You look down at your hands, hesitantly connect your wrists before slowly raising them above your head. You see how your chest rises and falls heavily, your breaths coming out almost harshly—the anticipation is killing you.

Jungkook sets the box down, his fingers inside, moving some things around before he’s pulling out a couple of things. You gulp, knowing this was his plan…your hunch was correct. He’s got some silky material rolled up before he unravels it, smile on his face, looking satisfied. He sets it down before pulling out something else silky. You aren’t dumb. You can recognize a proper blindfold anywhere.

“Don’t worry,” Jungkook lifts his eyes to you, “We won’t jump into this quite yet. Got to get you comfortable first with the idea…but this…” He grabs the other silky material from the bed, unraveling it further. “We can start here.”

You take a deep breath before nodding your head. Jungkook smiles at you before he closes the box and sets it down onto the floor. He grabs the two items he took from the box and walks to your side of the bed. “Okay,” He sets the blindfold down onto nightstand. “It’s very convenient my head board is like this, huh?”

“I’m starting to think you bought it like this for this reason now.” You tease him, your hands resting against his steal railing head board.

“Nah,” He shrugs cutely, “I like the style. But like I said, very convenient.” He leans over you, grabbing your wrists gently. “Also, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t imagined you like this when I bought it.”

You laugh, “You bought it like two years ago.”

“And?” He chuckles, bringing the silk restraints to your wrists, wrapping the material somewhat tightly around them. “If you think I only started imagining what it would be like to fuck you since a few months ago then you are gravely mistaken.” He ties the ribbon tighter, then he is lifting your hands a little higher, “Tying you to the bed now.” He says, making a knot around the steal rail.

“You…thought of me—”

“—What can I say?” He pulls your wrists away from the rail, making sure the restraints are secure. “I’m a man with taste.”

Your breaths become a little heavier, a flame burning at your skin. “Oh.” Then you crack a smile when he leans back and gazes at you. “You must be horny if you admitted that.”

“Well, I am fucking horny. Look at you.” He chuckles, his hand going to his sweats, trying to adjust them. “But you should know I admit anything I want whenever I want.”

“Question for you,” You roll your lips together, “You aren’t going to wear all of that right?” You nod towards him, “I would prefer if you lost some clothes.”

Jungkook’s lips curve up, “Would you? Hm,” He lifts his shirt off his body, “I can give you a little bit of a view, I guess.”

“Pants too?” You ask him innocently, making him exhale a long breath.

“Keeping my briefs on.” He narrows his eyes, “It’s only fair. You’d be wearing more than me at that point.”

“That’s fine with me.” You bite your lip, “At least I can see your thighs like that.”

“Oh?” He chuckles, “Yeah, you’ve gotten off on them a few times, huh?”

“Yeah.” Your eyes drop to his lower half when he starts dragging his sweatpants off. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Jungkook pauses, mouth falling open in slight surprised. “You think so?” He asks before slowly finishing taking off the pants, kicking them away.

“Of course.” You nod, “You’ve always been cute.”

“Nah, you said hot just now. Not cute.”

“You’re both.”

“Hm, okay.”

“Um,” You pull at the restraints for a moment, “I have an itch.”

Jungkook raises his brows before laughing, “Tell me where.”

“Left cheek.” You whine, “Hurry.”

He leans down a little, fingers going to your cheek before you whine again, “My left.”

“Oh.” He laughs, “Okay.” He’s scratching your other cheek and you sigh in relief. “Is it fucked up that even seeing how you feel good from just that made me want to fuck you more?”

You snort, “Jungkook, what the hell?”

“I mean, because of the noise you made.” He explains, “Can you see how hard I am already?” He looks down at his crotch, your eyes following. You definitely see a bulge. “It’s too bad you’re not allowed to touch me for some time.”

“You know, as much as I love talking to you…you do have me here, in these kinds of clothes…with my hands tied together to your bed…and you haven’t done anything to me yet?”

“Maybe I’m giving you time to get comfortable with it.” He smiles at you. “Nothing matters to me more than your comfort. But if that’s you saying you’re ready for this night to begin…then I am happy to oblige.”

“Then oblige.” You take a deep breath. “I don’t want you to hold back.”

Jungkook laughs a little, his hand going to your thigh, fingers sliding down until he’s wrapping them around your ankle. “Didn’t I tell you to spread your legs?” He asks, tugging your leg closer to him. “We’re barely getting started and you don’t even know how to listen…thought you were going to be good for me?” His fingers unwrap from your ankle before they travel up your thigh again.

“I am…” You sigh out, his fingers playing with the garter. “Not sure I’d let anyone else do this to me…ever.”

“What happens when you like it?” He asks lowly, fingers now barely skidding across your hips.

You slowly close your eyes at the feeling, “I would just have to keep coming back to you.” You say. Jungkook pauses his ministrations, his eyes shooting towards your face when he looks at you with a certain hopelessness that you completely miss.

“And I’d probably never turn you away.” He whispers, fingers going back to touching you.

You lift your lids to eye him, “Probably?”

He smirks, “Oh, should I tell you that I definitely wouldn’t turn you away?”

“It’s preferred.” You say before your body tenses. “Oh.”

Jungkook’s fingers have made their way to your breasts, the thin material does little to stop the feeling he’s causing. The tip of his finger circles around your covered nipple…Jungkook stares down at you, your chest rising at his touch, back arching and head falling more into the pillows behind you.

“Prettiest girl.” He tells you, his own breaths picking up. You think this is one of those times he is saying it without him trying to sound teasing. Maybe he was right. With the way he’s staring down at you, maybe he does mean it. And that just makes your body feel even more on fire.

“Jungkook…” The breathless way you say his name makes him shut his eyes and sigh out.

“I know.” Is all he says before he maneuvers his way onto the bed with you, his knees between your spread thighs as he leans down, arms on either side of you. “y/n.”

Jungkook’s face is just inches from yours…you wish you could wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in so you can kiss him but…you fucking can’t. His eyes dart up where he sees you slightly pulling at the restraints on instinct. “Already?” His lips turn up. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

“Jung—”

His lips connect with yours, soft against your mouth but still so firm in the way that makes your toes curl. He moves his lips against you slowly, his breaths and taste feel hypnotizing, as if your inability to touch him has made you focus only on his lips. You felt tense at first but the moment he sighs into your mouth, you feel the way you melt. Body turning to goo on his mattress.

Jungkook pulls away for a moment, eyes studying your face with such a lascivious expression. His hand comes to your jaw and he angles it up towards him, eyes growing heavy. “You need to breathe.” He tells you nice and slow.

You blink at him, not realizing you had even been holding your breath. You breathe out a heavy puff of air, your own eyes half lidded and furrowed brows. “I wish I could touch you.”

“I know.” He licks his lips, “I love your touch.” His fingers grip your jaw a little tighter, turning your face to the side. He leans in, mouth at your ear. “I get so fucking weak when you touch me.”

Jungkook lowers his head more, lips going right below your ear before he kisses it. Then a little lower, more kisses. Your eyes flutter shut at the softness of his lips, breaths still heavy. But your brows really pinch together when he starts sucking on your skin, teeth nipping and you release a moan in response. One hand on your jaw and the other behind your neck as he continues kissing and sucking. You squirm beneath him, toes curling in and out and your wrists softly pulling the restraints again.

The hand on your jaw lowers until you feel him massaging one of your breasts, thumb brushing against your nipple and you start to close your thighs around him from how good you feel, the ache between your legs only growing stronger.

“No.” Jungkook lifts his face, eyes going to yours. “I don’t think so.” His fingers travel to your inner thigh. So fucking close but not close enough. “Spread them again.” He softly demands, fingers pushing your thigh away from him.

“Jungkook.” You look up at him, the way he’s hovering over you makes you feel so helpless.

“Yes baby?” He leans down, nudging his nose with yours. “Be a little more patient,” He whispers, “Because the more impatient you act…the more I will make you wait.”

Your breaths are erratic now, your expression shifting into something more desperate than before. “It’s not my fault.” You whimper and he swears the way you sounded makes him want to forget all of this and just fuck you, fast and rough.

“I know it’s not your fault.” He shuts his eyes, body lowering itself closer to you. “It’s mine.” He says it so proudly, lips colliding with yours, the action rougher than before. You react quickly, kissing him back harder. His hand is at your jaw again, tight and possessive. He barely pulls away, lust completely taken over as he traces your bottom lip with his tongue. God, the action feels so lewd.

You’re struggling beneath him, body on fire from his touch, his kiss, his expression, his smell, his taste. You feel completely out of your element, helpless as you let him do whatever he wants, taking his fucking time and making you lose your mind.

Jungkook smirks at you, planting one more kiss to your lips before he starts kissing down your chest. Your heaving chest, with a lace bra that does nothing to cover your tits. His hands are busy, lifting the bra above your breasts, his kisses landing everywhere, tongue flicking your sensitive nipple. You arch your back more, breathy moans beginning to slip out.

He doesn’t stop there, he continues kissing down your stomach, in all the places the garter belt doesn’t cover. Hands gripping your hips tightly, stopping you from moving them so much. You look down at him and bite down onto your bottom lip, hard. His hair is messy, falling into his dark eyes that concentrate on your body.

You watch him, breathless, anticipating for his lips to find your wet cunt so you can finally feel some sort of relief but much to your dismay…he completely skips over your center. His fingers continue to dig into your hips as he lowers himself more, biting at your thighs as you whine for him.

“Jungkook…fuck, please.” You struggle to hide your desperation now. “Please, Jungkook. I need you. I don’t know if I can handle this pace anymore…please…”

Jungkook does stop…a smile forming on his lips as he lifts his head to look up at you. “Did you finally just beg? Properly? For the first time?”

You continue to bite your lips, hips still trying to move but he’s firm in holding you down.

“You did.” He tells you, clearly satisfied. “Okay, babe. I think it’s time I give you what you want.”

Thank fucking goodness because you are honestly feeling pathetic at this point. And you hate that it makes your lower belly swirl in desire because Jungkook looks so fucking pleased with it.

His fingers go to your inner thighs, his eyes glued to your pussy, the see through panties showing him everything. “Spread your legs further apart.” He orders and you listen. Jungkook’s fingers get closer, trailing slowly towards the most sensitive part your thighs have to offer.

He takes one finger and barely brushes it over your underwear. Your hips buck up, a soft cry leaving your lips. “Fuck, Jungkook.” You moan.

He bites his lip, eyes concentrated on you. His fingers pull your underwear to the side, exposing your wet heat that immediately makes him gulp. “Fucking hell, y/n.” He struggles to breathe evenly, “I can’t believe I was worried today. Look at what I do to you.” His cheeks are blazing. “I’m the only one who can do this to you, aren’t I? With you spread like this, your pussy is on display for me.” He keeps the underwear pushed to the side as his other hand come towards you, a single finger touches you. You tense, once again feeling so helpless.

Jungkook gently strokes your pussy with his one finger, getting it soaked in your juices. You feel like this one motion alone could have you trembling. He uses two fingers now, the digits exploring everything between your folds. You’re unable to keep quiet, being touched by him feels like heaven. You shut your eyes, hips circling.

Jungkook keeps playing with you, his fingers finally lowering until he’s toying with your entrance. You squeeze your eyes, teeth digging into your bottom lip, waiting so fucking patiently to feel him enter you. And he does, both of his fingers push inside and you let out a long, drawn out moan. He momentarily looks away from your heat, eyes going to your face when he sees how fucked out you look.

“Do you know how much I love your pussy?” He asks you, the tone of his voice makes you clench around his fingers. “So fucking much. Love eating it, making you come on my tongue.”

Your wrists pull at the restraints again, the urge to just push his head down with your hands and pull his hair as he eats you out is strong. But of course you cannot. He smiles when he sees you open your eyes to gaze down at him. His fingers begin sliding in and out of you, your walls tight around them before he’s curling them…you finally feel more of a relief.

“I know exactly what you like, hm?”

“Yes.” You sigh, content that you’re finally being touched like this.

He keeps moving his fingers expertly before his face comes closer to your core, he breathes you in and licks his lips. “I want to cover your pretty pussy in my cum…” He breathes out roughly, “I bet you’d love that, huh?” His fingers move faster.

“Yeah, I would…” You admit, biting your lip to conceal a smirk. “I would love to have your cum anywhere on me.”

“Yeah?” He looks up at you, nose so close to brushing against your clit. “Hmm…”

“Jungkook…” Your eyes roll around, pleasure building but you want more. You’re about to tell him but he’s not dumb, he knows exactly what you want. And he gives it to you. His tongue is suddenly dipping between your folds, pressed against the place that is throbbing, aching, screaming in desperation.

You don’t mean to cry out, the feeling so overwhelming after all his teasing. He licks your clit with calculated strokes, pressed against you, so warm and wet and god, the way his tongue starts moving around, swirling and flicking…you swear you could finally come.

His fingers don’t stop as he groans into you, the sound only turning you on even more. You’re going crazy, squirming and struggling to stay still as the pleasure builds and builds. You feel so good though, surprised how being restrained has made this experience much more exhilarating.

“Fuck, that’s good…Jungkook, yes…” You whine, “Mm…” Your hips rise and his free hand forces them back down to the mattress, his tongue absolutely about to bring you over the edge. “I’m so close…” You watch him, brows pulled together with sweat at your hairline. “You’re going to make me come.”

He keeps working his fingers inside you, feeling the way you pulse around them. He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it as you cry out loudly. Yeah, you’re coming. You move your head around, unable to control how strong it is…wrists knocking against the steal rail, body finally going tense as Jungkook’s name falls from your mouth over and over.

The high has infiltrated every part of your body. The feeling so good, coming all over Jungkook’s tongue. You’re panting, thighs squishing his cheeks as you ride it out, the fall of your orgasm happening so slowly but god, it feels incredible. His fingers leave your core and you almost miss them.

Jungkook looks up at you, the lewdness in his eyes only grows more and more before he’s letting go of your clit and flicking his tongue over it again and again. Your soft cries turn into full on whimpers when you get hit with a different feeling…

“W-What are you…” You continue to pant, “Fuck, what are you d-doing?” You look down at him, face twisting at the new feeling. “Fuck…w-wait, Jungkook…” Your head falls back, deeper into the pillow as your eyes roll around.

It’s almost painful, the way he’s still eating you out. You’ve never dabbled in overstimulation before, not even to yourself. But you’re choosing to trust him even though you think you cannot handle it.

“Fuck.” You almost scream out the word, body set on fire until suddenly…the warmth isn’t blazing, instead it feels good. “Jungkook…” You say his name in a content defeat. Pleasure taking over anything that was once uncomfortable. He moans into your pussy, clearly satisfied that you’re being good for him…just like you said you would be.

You had no idea what to expect but coming again just a minute after your last orgasm wasn’t something you thought would happen. This time though, it’s more intense…the buildup was quick but fucking powerful and you aren’t sure you’ve ever came this hard before. Moans and words that make no sense leave your mouth.

You grind your hips against Jungkook’s face and he lets you ride it out exactly the way you want, he hums, praising you for being so good. When your orgasm finally comes down, you finally relax your body and manage your breath control. It’s hard because you feel so weak now.

Jungkook rises from your body, a small smile on his shining lips. “You’re so perfect.” He rasps out, “I’ve been wanting to do that for you for ages.”

“Jungkook…” You say his name so softly, your voice almost shaky and he feels his heart swell in pride. Your head sunk into the pillows behind you, your hands limp above you, eyes closed as you still try to even out your breathing.

“Hm?” He rises from between your legs and crawls over you until his face is over yours, “What is it, my pretty girl?” And then he leans in slowly, pecking your lips a few times. You don’t kiss back but you do start to smile between his kisses.

“Are…” You finally start to open your eyes so you can look up at him, his gaze already on you. “Are you going to untie me now?” You ask, fingers twitching above you.

“Why would I do that?” He leans in again, lips finding yours for a firmer kiss before he pulls back, “One more thing before I do.”

“Which…is?” You blink at him, “You aren’t done?”

“Done?” He pushes his head back slightly, a sign of disbelief on his features. “I am not done with you, y/n.” Jungkook’s eyes are so soft on you, a small smile on his lips before he lowers his head into the crook of your neck. “…Will I ever be done with you?” and then there’s a barely there kiss being placed right below your ear. You aren’t sure if it’s the action or his words just now that is making your insides feel all jumbled.

“I want to touch you…” You mumble, cheeks feeling warmer than usual.

“I know.”

No, he doesn’t know. You know he’s thinking about how you probably want to touch him in the way that has his head being thrown back, curses leaving his mouth as you make him feel good. But that isn’t even what you meant. You almost hate what you did mean.

“Want to touch you so bad, Jungkook.” You murmur quietly, eyes closing again.

“I know you do.”

He still doesn’t know, you think. A slight frustration building but you can only settle for defeat. You want to touch him, yes. But in the way that has him staring into your eyes with his usual look of tenderness and understanding. You want to touch him, yes. But in the way that it’s just your fingers stroking his cheek as you praise him, words letting him how well he treats you and how good he makes you feel. That’s how you want to touch him.

Jungkook lifts his head, eyes on yours again. “But I told you, your touch makes me weak, y/n. And I can’t give into you yet…I’m still making you mine…” He pauses, tongue poking out to lick his lips, almost anxiously before he continues with a hushed tone, “You’ve already made me yours, it’s my turn…”

It’s quiet between you both for a moment. He’s staring into your eyes and you aren’t sure what you’re feeling. You want to feel anxious because this feels too much. But the urge to reach out and touch his cheek is still here and you don’t know what to do with that.

“You still trust me, right?” He smiles again now, “And are you feeling comfortable again? We can continue?”

You blink in slight surprise, he’s changed the subject. But right, this is about sex. “I do trust you…and yeah, I’m feeling better.”

Quick kiss to your lips before he’s lifting himself away from you, his feet landing on the floor. You turn your head to the side to see him standing in front of the night stand, he’s chewing on his lips, clearly thinking. “Okay…” He breathes out.

“Oh…” You realize he’s staring at the blindfold. The thought of not being able to move your hands but also not be able to see…is a little interesting. And also a little scary. But it’s Jungkook.

He reaches for the blindfold, fingers grasping the silk material before he glances at you, “I know you might be tense at first,” He speaks calmly, “But it’s just me. Remember, my goal is to make you feel good. Trust me…and I promise, I will give you everything from your fantasies.”

“I do trust you.” You assure him, “I just hope…” Your voice gets quieter, “That I am also something out of your fantasies.”

Jungkook’s lips part but he doesn’t speak. He keeps his eyes on you and you can tell he’s wanting to say something but no words leave him. It makes you feel dizzy. Did you say something wrong?

“I just mean—”

“—This doesn’t compare to anything my dumb imagination could come up with.” He says quickly before clearing his throat. “Believe me.”

Your body relaxes instantly at his words. “Okay.”

Jungkook’s lips curve and then he’s getting closer to you, the blindfold being fiddled between his fingers, “Going to cover your eyes now. Answer me this…do you want me to tell you everything I want to do before I do it? Or do you want the element of surprise but I walk you through it? Might do things you don’t expect…but I will not hurt you…” He assures softly, “I will check in with you and never hesitate to tell me if you don’t like something. Okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod, “Element of surprise.” Your stomach tightens at the sight of the blindfold, his fingers playing with the material and suddenly there’s a welcomed sensation beginning to electrify your body again.

Jungkook smirks down at you before he’s placing the blindfold closer to you, your eyes focused on him before your sight goes dark and his fingers are at the back of your head, tying it. Your eyelashes flutter against the silk, the new darkness suddenly feels strange to you. “I’m still here, baby.” Jungkook whispers, his fingers now at your cheek. “Try to relax.”

Once again, you haven’t realized you were holding in a breath, stomach still tensed but his voice and touch is all the comfort you need. You try to relax your muscles as you release a long breath. “Will you kiss me?” You ask him, your eyes darting around but it’s just the darkness that has you.

“Yes.” He responds, his fingers leaving your cheek. You feel strange again. The absence of his touch has you moving your head around, as if looking for him. But still, the silk over your eyes takes that away from you. One moment. Two moments. Three moments. Still nothing.

“Jung—”

And then you feel his warm breath over your lips…he’s close, obviously. But he still isn’t touching you. The feeling makes you feel almost antsy, it’s still strange but your lower belly is starting to swirl like lava. You swallow hard, lips parted as you try to breathe even once again.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s finger, you’ll assume thumb, comes to your bottom lip, pulling it down. He’s still softly breathing over your mouth as his thumb softly tugs at your lip…and now you can feel how your breaths pick up because his pacing is driving you mad.

They say that depriving one of your senses can heighten your other senses but you’re learning quickly that anticipation is another sense. And it is a highly sensitive one. His breath is warm on your lips and suddenly you can feel the tip of his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, it’s wet and soft and you feel your heart start to race.

Jungkook’s tongue is barely touching you though, the way he glides his tongue, tracing your bottom lips feels so featherlike. Then you are silently gasping when his teeth nip at you before he’s sucking your lip…your stomach tenses again. Lava still swirling and the feeling between your legs is a subtle but taunting tingle.

You release a breathy moan, unable to stop yourself. But it gets swallowed, his thumb quickly dropping from your mouth and his lips land on yours as he groans, his hands cupping your jaw now. You feel completely enveloped in his touch. Back arching as you push your chest up into his. His lips are perfectly slotted between yours. But he’s he is quick to pull away.

And then you feel nothing but coldness again. His hands leave you, his lips leave you, his breath that brought you comfort…leaves you. You’re left breathing heavily, surrounded in darkness with no way to even reach out for him. “Jungkook?” You call out.

“Still here, baby.” He tells you but his voice sounds more distant. “Wait for me for a minute.” And then you can hear his feet quietly shuffling away and suddenly you feel strange again. You feel stuck, lost, helpless. But instead of fear you feel that new sense, the anticipation. And it feels scary in the way that feels exhilarating.

Your body does feel a sense of comfort, your skin rubbing against his sheets and it’s like your skin knows these are Jungkook’s sheets…your head leaned against his pillows and it’s the same feeling. You know it’s his pillows. The smell of the room, it’s him. It’s all him. He’s everywhere despite the fact he is not near you. Your breasts are still exposed, nipples perked at the AC blowing into the room, small goosebumps beginning to infect your skin.

You slide your feet towards you, knees bending as you wait. Your panties are covering your heat again since Jungkook’s fingers are no longer pushing them to the side and you feel the stickiness of your previous and current arousal on the material. You wait. And wait. Focusing on listening for Jungkook’s footsteps. You miss him.

You think you hear that box from earlier being opened again, the same sound of his fingers scrambling through it. It doesn’t last long…the sound. Quiet footsteps again. You’re wondering if he’s being this quiet on purpose, yes, you know he wants to make you as comfortable as possible but he also wants to make it fun too. You kind of appreciate it, if you’re honest. Comfort is nice but the way he’s making you feel from all the mystery is also making you ache in the best way. It’s quiet for some time and you think he’s left the room. Waiting and waiting…sounds in the distance. More waiting.

Suddenly, you can feel the bed dip near your feet. Your head turns in the direction, lips parted as you try to breathe again. You know it’s him, obviously. But being left in the dark creates this doubt that eats you from the inside.

“It’s me.” He whispers, his warm hand landing on your ankle. You can feel the bed dip more, his body going between your legs again. His hands on either side of your ankles, his fingers wrapped loosely around them. “You don’t know but,” His fingers unwrap themselves from your left ankle, fingers sliding up your leg. “You look so beautiful like this.” Suddenly, he’s urging you to lift that same leg, he bends it back until he’s lifting it over his shoulder.

“You like it that much?” You bite your lip, concealing a smile.

“Can you admit it now?” His fingers drag over your leg until you feel them tugging at the garter on your thigh. “You wore this for me, right? You wanted to please me?” He asks you, voice husky.

“Did I?” You breathe out, “I don’t—”

He pulls the garter back before snapping it against your thigh, a slight sting. “Tell me.”

You gasp quietly at the action, breaths picking up more before you decide to be honest. “Fine. I did. I knew you might like it and I wanted you to think I looked nice.”

“Good.” He says, fingers messing with the garter, you can feel how he unclips the suspender. “I’ve enjoyed how you look with all of this on. You look more than nice. You look…” He pauses, fingers beginning to drag the garter down your thigh as he slides it up, getting if off you at your ankle that rests on his shoulder. “You look obscenely indecent.” He says slowly, smirk in his voice.

You laugh a little, the sound is airy. “Indecent?”

“Yes.” He murmurs, “I don’t want anyone else to ever see you like this.” And then he’s lowering your leg and giving attention to the other one. He repeats the actions…lifting it over his shoulder, unclipping the garter and sliding it off of you. The leg lowers back as well.

He’s still in between your legs, but you feel how he moves closer. Suddenly, his hands are around your waist, your body tensing at the way he lightly grips you. You feel how he falls forward, his head burying in your stomach before you can feel soft kisses over your skin.

“Pretty,” He says, fingers playing with the garter belt, “But it has to go.” He lifts himself before sliding it down, over your hips. You lift your ass some to help, his hands pulling down the material quickly. “These too.” He says, snapping the band of your underwear against your skin.

You can’t help but moan, feeling breathless. “You want me naked, huh?”

“Yeah.” He says, urging you to lift your hips again so he can drag the panties off of you. “It’s a view I love even more.”

The air is chilly against all your exposed skin. You want to close your legs together but Jungkook’s body between them does cause a nice warmth but you aren’t sure if it’s from his actual body heat or because it’s Jungkook��you know, between your fucking legs. You feel his fingers at your breasts, your chest rising and falling quickly when he barely drags a finger over your nipple.

“I will buy you more lingerie.” He tells you in a whisper. “So don’t be mad.”

“What—”

His hands pull your bra towards him, stretching the material before you hear it rip. He is tearing the flimsy, lace bra in half.

“Jungkook!” Your eyelashes flutter against the silk quickly, “Why did you—”

“—Your hands are tied up.” He lets the bra fall before he’s dragging it from under you. “This was the easiest way to get it off.” You can hear how his voice sounds so fucking proud.

“You’re right.” You pout. “You are buying me more.”

“Without a doubt, babe.” He chuckles, “But whatever I buy you is only for me.”

You release a long sigh, “Baby…babe…you really don’t follow rule number 3, do you?”

“Nope.” He says cutely, “Just like your other rules, it’s stupid.”

“Jungkook—”

“—And that’s me being easy with you, I have to hold myself back from calling you a million other things.”

“Oh,” your lips lift a little, “Like what?”

“No, no, no.” He sings, “Don’t want to break your rules too crazily.” His hand comes to cup your jaw, “You’re feeling more comfortable, right?” He asks, voice not teasing anymore. “Because I want to ruin you, the prettiest girl in the world, god, I want to ruin you.”

Your breath hitches, your eyes focused on the darkness the silk offers, wrists straining against the steal rail above you. “Do what you want with me, Jungkook.” You finally say, voice close to shaking. “Anything you want, anything…”

Jungkook is quiet, his hand leaves your jaw and you start tensing again. He’s still hovering over you but he isn’t speaking, he isn’t touching you, he isn’t giving you anything to work with. One moment. Two moments. Three moments.

Finally, you can feel the back of his fingers at your elbow, his touch lightly cascading down your inner arm. It tickles but there is no sense to laugh, it tickles in the way that makes your heart start racing, tickles in the way that feels like this tingle is traveling across your entire body. His fingers continue to dance down, falling down your side now, passing the edge of your breast, passing your waist, your hips.

“You like being touched by me?” He asks, lowly.

“Y-Yeah.” You gulp, “It feels good.”

Jungkook lowers his head, lips ghosting over your lips before he speaks again. “What else do you do to please me?”

“What?”

“I said,” His other hand suddenly comes to your breast, fingers pinching your nipple before he softly rolls the nub, leaving you gasping. “What else do you do to please me?”

“I don’t know.” You respond slowly, your eyes finally closing, a pitch black darkness. “Maybe everything.”

“You’re admitting something like that?” He chuckles over your mouth, lips brushing against yours with each word he speaks. “Did you answer like that because you know it would also please me?”

“I answered like that because it’s the truth.” You whisper, “I like making you feel good too.”

Jungkook’s slow to move his lips over yours for a kiss. He loves kissing you, he loves your lips, he loves how you sound when you get into it, he loves passing moans between your mouths, he loves tasting you. You kiss him back just as slow. Mouths moving together languidly as he barely slips his tongue into your mouth, nice and smooth and lazy.

His hand tightens around your jaw before his fingers go to your lips, keeping them spread, forcing your mouth to fall open when he sucks on your tongue more messily. God, the feeling is so lewd but you can only imagine how hot this looks.

You moan out loud, playing with his tongue just as expertly, the feeling feels like velvet. He lets go of your face, his lips slotting over yours again and then he’s really kissing you, faster, rougher, messier. He’s moaning into your mouth and you eat them right up. You aren’t sure how long you two have been kissing for but it’s long enough to have the ache between your legs start to feel mind numbingly painful.

Your hips are stirring, your wrists are pulling at the restraints and your vision is nonexistent. Jungkook pulls away, breathing heavy over your mouth, a quiet whine leaving his lips. “I can’t wait to fuck you.” Is all he says, leaving you more breathless than before.

And then there is coldness again. He’s leaving you. And he takes all the heat with him. “Jungkook?” You call for him, still trying to catch your breath. “Jungkook?” You bob your head around but of course you cannot see. You squeeze your thighs together and you are met with your arousal, the stickiness coating your skin.

Suddenly, there is something dripping onto your lower stomach. Some kind of liquid? It’s warm…really warm. The new feeling shocks you, something new and unexpected. You can feel this liquid dribbling over your skin, sliding down your sides, a heat following it.

“I heat up some oil,” Jungkook’s voice is suddenly heard. “It’s going to be really warm but it should feel good…to relax you.”

Your mouth has fallen open, slow, deep pants following. It does feel good. Suddenly, more oil is dripping, you feel the wet warmth fall to your breasts, down your sternum. It rolls over your skin, probably dripping to the sheets but you don’t think Jungkook cares.

You can feel each droplet of oil on your skin. It’s hypersensitive. It’s like you can imagine the thick liquid rolling down your sides, tickling you, a path of fire in its wake. “Is it too warm?” He asks “Or is it good?”

You’re still breathing heavily, “It feels so good.” You squirm a little, the oil tickling your skin.

“Good.” He says before you feel his hands on you, fingers spreading the oil into your hips. It feels even warmer, like it’s spreading into the wildest of fires. “I wasn’t sure if it cooled down enough. But I tested it, I thought you might like it this warm.”

“I do.” You sigh in content now that his hands are finally on you again, “It feels amazing.”

His hands explore more, he’s spreading the oil down to the tops of your thighs, fingers digging into your skin, the heat following. Then his hands are on your chest, the oil coating your breasts, he’s massaging your nipples, a drawn out moan leaving your lips.

Suddenly, His hands leave you and Jungkook is in between your legs again and your ears perk up. A sound you weren’t expecting gets your attention…a sound that is slick, fast and unholy. Is he…? You’re still breathing roughly when you can hear the consistent sound in front of you and Jungkook is moaning himself.

You know exactly what he’s doing. And you fucking hate that you cannot see him.

“Jungkook…” You whine, “Take this blindfold off…I need to see you.”

“Too bad, y/n.” He groans out, the slick sound is obscene. You know he has his oiled fingers wrapped around his cock and he’s stroking himself above you. “Just to clarify,” He moans again, “You are on birth control still, right?”

“Are you going to—”

“—Not going to come in you.” He says, struggling to keep his voice clear. “But you are, right?”

“Yes.” You feel so helpless and upset you cannot touch him or see him. “Are we—”

“—No.” The sound suddenly stops. “I’m not fucking you yet. But,” He lowers himself a little closer to you, the subtle feeling of his hard length brushing against your inner thigh just barely. “I am going to enjoy this view as much as possible.” He says before your body finally sets itself on fire. The head of his cock rests at the tops of your folds, suddenly, his length is moving side to side, spreading your folds apart and he’s rubbing against your clit. You both moan in unison.

“Oh fuck,” He cries out softly, “I make you this wet?”

You only whimper in response, his cock sliding vertically now, just moving against your folds. He’s whining above you, moving his hips to barely brush against your wet, dripping cunt, rubbing against every nerve in your clit, the feeling making you go crazy. You move your legs, wrapping them around Jungkook’s waist, trying your hardest to push your heels into him so he will lower himself even more but he’s stronger than you.

“No, baby.” He pants out, “This is for me. Not you.” Suddenly, he stops moving and you’re left feeling insane, wanting nothing more than to continue the feeling that was starting to build. His cock leaves your heat and you hear him breathing erratically above you. Then, the head of his cock drops to your clit, the feeling is heavy. The action repeats. He’s slapping his cock down onto your clit, repeatedly dropping it making you gasp as he moans.

He starts rubbing against it more roughly now, quick and heavy. You’re squirming in your spot. Jungkook is still panting, his fingers wrapped around himself so tightly as he stares down at you. Your mouth has fallen open, your entire expression is wonton and dreamy. He wishes he could see your eyes now, he wants to see your entire face, he wants to see you and how good he makes you feel. He’s stroking himself as he rubs your clit repeatedly, his fingers moving faster and faster and he’s squeezing his eyes shut for only a moment, listening to your moans with all his focus. He’s so close. He’s going to come. He is going to come because of this view that is just for him. He is going to come because you did this for him. And he just wants to respect that.

“Ah, Jungkook…” You moan out his name, fuck, you must be close too. “Rub it faster, I’ll come…” You let him know, erratic breaths filling the room.

Jungkook opens his eyes again, gazing down at your pussy. “No, baby.” He strokes faster, slightly lifting his cock from your folds. “This is for me, not you.” He groans, gripping the head of his dick and rubbing it quickly. He starts moaning continuously, the sound is whiney and salacious. He finally slows his movements as he loudly groans, pushing his cock back down to your folds again and warm cum starts spilling from his throbbing member.

You’re met with such a hot, wet feeling. His cum coats and soaks the top of your pussy, the seed dribbling down your folds. Jungkook is still moaning above you, wet sounds as he still slowly strokes his dick. His eyes focused on the way his cum covers your cunt in white. The sight alone could make him come again.

“Jungkook…” You cry out, “Holy fuck,” Your hips stir like crazy, swiveling in dire need. “I was so close too…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be coming soon.” He sighs out, his hand finally coming to a stop. Eyes still on your pussy that is coated in his cum. “And I will finally give you something you want.” He tells you, out of breath.

“What?” You ask but then suddenly you feel his fingers at the back of your head, untying the blindfold and it drops from your eyes. You shy away from the sudden brightness the room offers, not yet totally adjusted to the light.

“I wouldn’t take this from you…” He whispers, lowering himself to kiss you. Lips barely giving you a proper kiss since he’s still breathing so erratically. You blink at nothing until he raises his head to look down at you. He’s got a layer of sweat coating his skin, beads gathered at his hairline and they slide down the sides of his face.

“You look so fucking sexy.” You breathe out, eyes on his eyes.

“You.” He whispers, lowering his face to your chest to kiss over your breasts. He goes lower and lower, lips pecking your hips, your pelvis. You watch as his dark eyes stare up at you before he’s licking his cum off the top of your cunt. He looks forever lost in you. And then your body goes rigid the moment he’s wrapping his lips around your bundle of nerves and his tongue is lazily moving. The right amount of pressure though. Pleasure instantly returning as he eats your pussy.

“Fuck,” You relax, eyes filling with more lust he’s ever seen. His tongue moves faster, harder against you and you’re squeezing your thighs on either side of his face, hips moving in rhythm. You’re moaning again, louder this time and he’s groaning so heavenly. The pleasure is building fast, it’s climbing and ready to jump off the highest of cliffs. You can’t wait to feel the sensation of free falling as you come all over his tongue. “Close, close, close.” You pant.

And then he fucking pulls away. You almost want to scream, the pleasure comes to an abrupt stop. You’re left with desperate movements and moans and he does nothing but smile at you. “Look at you, y/n.” He wipes his mouth, “Look at what I’m doing to you, my baby.”

“Holy fuck, Jungkook…” Your wrists are pulling so hard at the silk tied around them, your brows pulled together in painful frustration.

“Your eyes are watering.” He tells you proudly. “Going to cry for me?” He taunts you, “Going to cry because I ripped away the thing you wanted most?”

“Jungkook, Jungkook…” You feel dizzy.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” He says, voice deeper than before. “Going to fuck you really hard. Going to fuck you so hard that you do cry.”

You blink back the sting in your eyes, “Jungkook…”

“Could you imagine that?” He continues to taunt you, expression growing darker. “Miss little control freak crying because I own the pleasure she wants to feel so badly? You’d look a little pathetic, wouldn’t you?” He asks before speaking slowly, “And so fucking sexy.”

You stare up at him, brows still furrowed as his words process in your mind and you feel your pussy throb. Why are you enjoying this so much? Why are you ready to give yourself up for him? Why? Fucking why are you losing yourself to his words alone?

Jungkook’s lips curve into a dark smile, he reaches over you, fingers at your wrists as he quickly undoes the knots he created when this night first began. You’re free. Your wrists are free. And you don’t waste any time in pulling him down, crashing your lips to his, moaning into his mouth with zero shame. He’s never heard you like this. So fucking needy. So fucking loud.

He pulls away, dark eyes piercing into yours. “Turn over and raise your ass for me.”

You gulp, entire body weak yet it listens to Jungkook’s demand, shaky limbs turning until your knees land on the mattress. Ass raised for him. His hands go to the sides of your hips, rubbing your skin so soothingly. He gets on his knees himself, positioning himself behind you.

“Ah, fuck.” He rubs his hardening cock against your cheeks. “You’re all mine…” He says, hands rubbing the swell of your ass now, massaging your skin. “Are you enjoying this?”

“Y-Yes.” You moan, cheek pushing against the pillow. “You can…you can spank me, if you want.” You close your eyes in satisfaction at the way he’s massaging your cheeks, cock rubbing against you.

“Yeah?” He sounds pleased. “Good to know.” He squeezes your ass in his hands. “I have the condom here, hold on…” He reaches down to the mattress and you hear the packet rip and you imagine he’s rolling the condom on. “You’re still feeling okay?” He asks, one hand going to your ass, fingers exploring before you feel the tips of his fingers between your thighs, brushing over your folds, spreading them.

“Yes…” You sigh in content, “I really need you.”

“Yeah?” He asks you, his other hand wrapping around his hard length. “You miss my cock inside you, huh?” “Fuck, I do…” His fingers rub against your clit for a moment before he’s pulling his hand away. “I need it so badly, Jungkook…I need you so badly.”

“Careful, baby.” He releases a long breath, position his member at your entrance, the tip poking against you teasingly. “Almost sounds like you’re getting desperate for me.”

“I am, Jungkook.” You moan, squeezing your eyes shut when he starts pushing himself forward. “God, I am…you’re making me go crazy.” You admit, breathing heavily as you feel the head of his cock get sucked into your pussy, walls hugging him.

“Oh, y/n…” He tries to breathe, “Fuck, you feel…” He pushes forward more, also using his hands to guide you backwards, pushing yourself onto his cock. “Amazing.”

Your legs are weak, shaky, your pussy stretching as he inserts himself more into you, inch by inch he is disappearing. It burns, his size splitting you apart but it feels so good. He’s thrusting forward softly, sighing heavily as he gives you time to adjust.

“How are you feeling? Hm? My pretty girl?” His hands rub your hips soothingly again, his body so tense as he controls his desire to fuck you.

“Good.” You swallow hard, “Fuck, Jungkook, please, please, please…” You push your ass back more, “Fuck me.” You plead, your body moving on its own. You start moving your hips, needing more friction but Jungkook grips your hips tightly, stopping you from moving.

Then one hand leaves your hip and you’re gasping, tightening around his cock the moment you feel his palm slapping against your ass. “I’m fucking you.” He groans. “Not the other way around.”

Your legs shake more. Your walls gripping his length with insane arousal. “Jungkook…” You cry out, “Please.”

“I know, baby.” He rubs the spot he just slapped. “I’m going to make you feel,” He starts pulling out of you, cock brushing against your walls with tender movements. “So fucking good.” He pushes forward again, pelvis meeting your ass, making it jiggle. “So good.” He slides out again slowly before slapping his hips into you more roughly.

You moan, body jolted forward when he starts repeating that same motion. He’s slow to pull out but he’s quick to thrust into you. Hitting you deeper and deeper each time. Your elbows are barely holding you up, your arms slide up, head completely buried in the pillow. Jungkook rocks into you, fucking you in rhythm now. His moans mix with the sound of his skin slapping your skin.

“God, I love having you like this.” He almost growls, voice so deep, rumbling in his throat. “Fucking you like this, yeah,” His breaths are heavy, rough, almost a cry for help. “You look so fucking gorgeous…” He thrusts faster, “Your ass…” He squeezes it before slapping it again making you cry out. “Fuck.” He yells out aggressively, “My baby.”

Your stomach tenses, your knees wobble, your throat feels rawer from how loudly you’re moaning for him. The angle he has himself in is making you feel like you could come around his cock alone. He’s hitting the spot inside that you that has an orgasm threatening to erupt. “Jungkook…” You whine, eyes still slammed shut. “Fuck,”

Jungkook hands going under you, at your lower stomach before he’s urging you to lift yourself, “Come on, baby.” He groans, “Come on…”

“Can’t,” You whimper, “So fucking tired.”

“Baby, come on…” He keeps fucking you, cock sliding into you roughly, no pain, just pleasure.

You try your best, weak arms lifting your upper body and he helps you, his arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you towards him, back meeting his chest. Your head rolls back, landing above his shoulder, neck completely exposed as you breathe heavily, moaning with furrowed brows.

“Jungkook.” You quietly cry out his name, barely even a whisper. He keeps rocking into you from behind, sweat dripping from his hairline. His lips connect to the side of your neck, sucking into your skin and you moan more. “I—”

Suddenly, his fingers find your clit, wet and messy as he rubs it with his usual skill that makes you feel even weaker. Brows pinched together so strongly, pleasure skyrocketing. “Come like this first,” He says in your ear, lips kissing down your neck again. “Come for me, fuck, want to feel you squeezing my cock.” Your hands go behind you, feeling the back of his head, fingers threading through his damp hair.

He’s still fucking you so deeply, fingers bringing you somewhere so dangerous. Jungkook starts fucking even faster when he feels how you get tighter, your drawn out moans almost sounding like you’re on the verge of ecstasy. You’re saying words neither of you understand, eyes opening to glance down at his tatted hand at your pussy, fingers lost between your folds.

Your orgasm is around the corner, building up so nicely, your teeth digging into your bottom lip, shameless cries leaving your mouth as he pushes onto your clit harder. And that’s it. Your mouth falls open, heavy pants escaping as you start coming. You come and come, squeezing his cock and he groans loudly at the feeling.

“Fuck, yes.” He moans for you, “You’re amazing, baby…keep coming for me.” He keeps fucking into you, your body so tense as you continue to come around him. You’re unable to make another sound. Lips parted, breaths erratic. Vision blurry. Your body goes limper, growing so weak as Jungkook holds you up.

“Jungkook.” You moan his name, “Fuck…” You drag the word through your teeth, your grip on his hair loosening. He slows down his thrusts, kisses on your neck and shoulder. Jungkook eases you back to the mattress, his chest still sticking to your back as he keeps fucking you, slower, deeper. You’re dizzy again. His cock is making you dizzy.

“Let’s turn you around again,” He kisses the back of your shoulder before rising from your body, cock momentarily leaving your hole as he tries to flip you over carefully. You’re tired. Fucked out. Eyes so heavy but lust still lingers. He’s at a loss of words because he’s never seen you look this incredible. “Are you losing yourself to me, y/n?” He whispers before sliding his member back into you, making your eyes open wider, your hands going to his chest, fingernails digging into his skin.

“You’re…” You struggle to speak, “Not done with me, are you?”

“No.” He leans down, kisses your parted lips. He grabs your leg and lifts it to his shoulder, his cock sliding deeper than before. You gasp, eyes stinging again. “You’re going to cry for me.” And then he’s moving into you, faster, deeper, rolling his hips as he struggles himself. He’s so close, closer than close. He’s going to come. But he needs you to come again first.

“Fuck, Jungkook…you’re—” His fingers are back on your clit and you slam your eyes shut.

“No,” He leans forward, rocking into you with enough force. “Look at me.”

You struggle to pry your eyes open, tears filling them because you think you’re going to explode. Your body is on fire, flames surrounding you both. He gazes into your teary eyes, an excited but endeared glint can be seen before he’s kissing you. Lips devouring yours as he fingers work so expertly and you’re whimpering into his mouth, a few tears sliding down your cheeks as you come again.

Jungkook pulls away, his own eyes heavy, “Good girl.” He moans, his hips slapping into you before he’s groaning loudly. “I’m coming.” He cries out, hips stilling. You feel dead but you still manage to wrap your arms around his back, fingers stroking his skin as he comes.

His face is barely distanced from yours, his hot, heavy breaths fall to your lips. His entire expression so focused until he’s kissing you, smiling as he does so. His body losing all energy as well before he’s struggling to hold himself up. You both wince the moment he begins to slip his softening member out from you, a soft whine leaving you both. Another peck to your lips before he rolls over your body, fingers on himself as he discards the used condom.

“Wow,” You murmur tiredly, eyes closed as you remain dizzy from everything.

“I’m going to grab some water, we need some.” Jungkook says, still uneven breaths. “Just relax, don’t get up.”

Well, you were not even planning on it. You don’t think your body is even capable of moving. Your limbs have retired, giving up and leaving you useless. You hum noncommittally, too tired to even drape your arm over your eyes to save you from the light.

Jungkook isn’t gone long, you feel the bed dip near your side as Jungkook sits next to you. You crack open an eye and you see a tall glass of water in one hand. “Drink slowly.” He nudges the cold glass against your cheek and you groan. “Come on.”

Tired, you try to sit up a little, still dizzy. In multiple ways. “Okay,” You reach for the glass but he still holds on to it too, helping you sip the water. Almost instantly, your body and head start to ease from the dizziness. Damn, you really did need some.

“How are you feeling?” Jungkook’s hand brushes against the top of your leg. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah.” You glance at him before taking another sip. “I’m really tired though.” You chuckle at your own admission, “You really did a number on me.”

Jungkook grins a little at this, a brow lifting. “Did I?”

“Mhm.” You sink back down, head in the pillows.

“And how did it feel? Did you enjoy yourself?” He asks you, fingers still stroking your leg. “I didn’t cross any lines, did I?”

“No,” You weakly shake your head, “You made me feel really good…I enjoyed it. Enjoyed you.” You mumble quietly, eyes closing again. “I do feel kind of gross though…but god, I am so tired.”

“Don’t worry, I came prepared.” He chuckles, hand leaving your leg to wave around a wet towel, despite the fact you aren’t looking at him. “We can shower when we wake up,” Then he looks down at the sheets. “But we should still change the sheets regardless.”

“Good idea.” You whisper, “Help me up then.”

He smiles down at you, his hands going to your body to help you rise from the bed. He’s so gentle with you, his warm hands feel like your safe zone. You laugh because it almost tickles how weak you are, Jungkook keeps his hands on you. He passes you the towel as he starts cleaning up around the bed, replacing the sheets and all. You clean yourself up.

After everything is replaced and you’re both not totally gross…he hands you some boxers and one of his t shirts, you easily slide back into his bed, body relaxing against the fresh sheets. And then you get the shock of your life—Jungkook’s hands reach for you, his arm sliding beneath you before he’s pulling you into him. A content sigh leaving his mouth.

You blink at nothing, the dark room in sight but you’re still trying to process the cuddling. You two never cuddle in bed. Never. After sex, you’ve always just felt good enough to be near one another. But you ease into his body very naturally…his scent and touch enough to make you close your eyes again. If you’re honest, this kind of affection after the night you two have had, feels good. Feels right.

You wake up with the featherlike feeling of Jungkook’s fingertips outlining the curve of your figure, soft strokes on your hip. Your shirt is has ridden up, his hand coming from behind you as he touches you so innocently. You’re facing away from him, his body forming your own as he snuggles into you from behind.

“Hi.” You speak groggily, turning in his embrace to face him. “You’re already awake?”

“Yeah.” He hums, eyes finding yours. “For a little while now.”

“Oh.” You swallow, “Sorry…you should have waken me.”

“When do I ever wake you?” He smiles lazily, “I was just relaxing so it’s okay. But I am getting hungry…should we make breakfast?”

“Br—oh, yes.” You return his smile, “What should we make?”

“Lots of stuff. To…you know, replenish the rest of our energy.” He winks at you and you feel an undeniable heat creep up the back of your neck, spreading to your cheeks. “Come on.”

It took more than one ‘come on’ for Jungkook to actually get you to get out of bed, but finally, you decided to get up and wash up before heading to the kitchen. Jungkook is already at the stove, eggs in a pan as he sings some tune. You step towards him, making it to his side and as soon as he feels you, he glances your way.

“Can you make me a glass of water?” He asks you, eyes going down to the eggs.

“Sure.” You nod, about to turn away from him before you feel his hand on your lower back, you look at him and he’s leaning in, lips finding yours for a kiss.

“Thanks.” He mumbles against your mouth, “Should be done soon.” And then he turns back towards the stove, a satisfied yet soft smile on his face. You stare at his side profile for a moment, warmth enveloping you as you watch him. As always, he’s making your body react in ways that you don’t feel like finding an explanation for. Parts of your body that don’t require to be physically touched to feel good. Places like your heart but that sounds lame so you’ll push that thought away.

You shake your head a little, forcing your feet to move away from him.

After a little while, you and Jungkook are sitting at his table with plates of food in front of you. He’s already digging in, mouth full and content hums as he enjoys it. You laugh a little, taking a few bites of your own breakfast. It feels nice. Just sitting together, eating, enjoying the company. The peace.

“So,” Jungkook lifts his big eyes towards you, a loud swallowing sound as he downs his food. “Can I ask you something?” He takes another bite of his eggs, chewing, waiting for your answer.

You raise your brows a little, head nodding. “Sure.” “Your rules,” He says, still chewing. “Um,” He finally swallows. “Can you give me an actual explanation for why they exist? You know,” He lightly gestures between you both with tender eyes, “Between us.”

You gaze at him, sighing in defeat because it’s not like you can’t talk to him…him of all people. So, you slightly nod, shoulders shrugging. “Expectations. Disappointments.” You say simply, as if the two words go into a deep explanation.

Jungkook narrows his eyes, frown on his face. “What about them?”

“So there isn’t expectations.” You mumble, “You can’t expect anything from me…me for you. And no one can get disappointed.”

“I don’t really get it.” He admits, carefully.

“Example,” You exhale a deep breath. “Rule number 3. A rule you always break, by the way!” You playfully roll your eyes, small smile on your face before your lips drop. “Say I get used to it. I would start expecting it, wouldn’t I? Then I would start overthinking if you suddenly just stopped.” You shrug again, “I don’t know, that philosophy works for all the rules I think.”

“Oh.” He subtly nods, eyes going down to his food before he’s eating again. He’s quiet as he eats, chewing as he thinks.

“Anyway—”

“—You think we would end up disappointing one another somehow?” He swallows his food, eyes going back to you. “Isn’t that a really negative way to think about it?”

“Negative or realistic?” You chuckle bitterly, “That’s life, Jungkook.”

“That’s not life, actually.” He furrows his brows, clearly concentrating his attention on you. His gaze makes you feel smaller. But then he brushes it off, small smile before he’s going back to breakfast. “Sound like you already have expectations, y/n.”

“I don’t—”

“—It’s not a bad thing,” He assures you softly. “And for the record, you wouldn’t disappoint me. Not when it comes to the rules.” Jungkook tells you, “It’s funny…sometimes you lack confidence,” Then he smirks. “Yet you still know how to act so cocky.” He lifts a thumb to the corner of your mouth, “You’re cute. But let’s work on that.”

He watches you, lips curved into the cutest smile as you give him the middle finger. His insides are melting, turning into gooey liquid and he’s wondering, truly wondering, if this is something he can actually do. His smile only grows and his heart only beats faster when you stick your tongue out and go back to your food.

Yeah, he isn’t so sure he’s cut out for this. Because this just might not be enough. But he doesn’t want your ‘expectations’ and ‘disappointments’ to make sense. Because he is the one most understanding how they make absolute perfect fucking sense.

~~~

“I am crazy proud of you, dude.” Taehyung is still hugging you tight to his body, “You’re going to do amazing!” He still does not let go. He rocks you back and forth and his arms are wrapped so tightly. “Proud, proud, proud!” He chants.

“Okay, okay.” You laugh into his chest, patting his back. “I get it. Thank you, thank you.”

“I’m proud of you too, y/n. I’d also give you a hug but Taehyung might start barking and growling at me or whatever.” Yoongi tells you with a gummy smile. “Still, accepting your promotion is a huge deal.”

“Of course it is a huge deal.” Namjoon takes a seat at the table that the server just brought you all too, “Hence why we are celebrating.”

“Sorry that only we could make it, y/n.” Jimin pouts, taking a seat next to Namjoon. “Jin and Hoseok feel terrible about not being able to come.”

“Ah, it’s not a big deal.” You keep patting Taehyung’s back. “Okay, let go of me already, dude.” You tell him but he doesn’t let go of you fully, just placing you at arm’s length.

“See? I was being hard on you because I needed you to open your eyes! Now look how excited you are about this promotion!”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, “Right.”

“You don’t believe me?” He cocks a brow at you, “You know what they say about me. I have a method for everything, y/n.”

“Totally, totally.”

“For real though…” Taehyung gets more serious, “You’re going to love this new position…you were made to shine like this.” He smiles now, finally dropping his hands. “What did Jungkook say when you told him?”

“He’s proud too.” You smile, “He should be here any minute…Ara too.”

“Oh.” Taehyung smirks to himself, “Ara, Ara. The love of my life.”

“Stop.” You glare at him, “You just like that she hates you.”

“Hates me?” He pretends to look shocked, “She’s totally in—”

“—Finish that sentence and I’ll consider murder. Super planned out, never get caught kind of murder.” Ara cuts in, heavy sigh leaving her mouth as she walks between you both.

“That’s so flattering,” Taehyung puts a hand over his heart, “You’d plan something that meticulous for me? You’d spend that much time on me?”

“Something is seriously so wrong with you.” Ara shakes her head.

“Yet is does it for you, doesn’t it?” He grins at her.

“Anyway,” Ara turns to you, giving you a quick but tight hug. “Congrats on the promotion!”

“Thanks, thanks.” You tell her, gesturing towards the table so you can all sit with everyone else. “I was so nervous when I was going to accept it! Ah, but when my boss came to check on another project…I kind of just blurted out that I would take it.”

“Seems like your subconscious made the decision.” Ara laughs, taking a seat next to you.

“I guess so.” You giggle, “He says I can give the main presentation tomorrow to one of our teams as like a test run. So I was preparing all day!”

“You’re going to kill it!” Taehyung takes a seat next to Ara, “And—”

“—Why me?” She groans, “Sit on the other side of y/n.”

“Uh,” Taehyung gives Ara a pointed look. “Jungkook is going to want to celebrate right next to our promoted princess.”

“Oh yeah.” Ara blinks, head nodding. “So true.”

“Jungkook would survive not sitting next to me guys.” You deadpan.

“I don’t know,” She shrugs. “Even yesterday when we met for drinks…Jungkook didn’t want be anywhere if you weren’t right there.”

“T-That’s not true.” You defend, cheeks heating up.

“It is true.” Taehyung says nonchalantly, he and Ara share a look, “Childhood friends are close like that.” He nods, “I’m actually going crazy because I’m not right next to y/n either.” Taehyung offers a very straight face and Ara returns it.

“I can imagine.” She nods.

“You guys are annoying.” You laugh, “But speaking of Jungkook…” You pull your phone out, “He’s taking forever. Oh he called. Let me send him another—”

“—Well, maybe I would have been here earlier if you would have told me where this table was located! Or you know, answered my calls.” Jungkook suddenly has his hand on the back of your chair, “I’ve been searching for you guys everywhere.”

“Hey man.” Yoongi nods up at Jungkook.

“My bad…” Jimin looks at his own phone, “Didn’t feel my phone.”

“You’re here.” You turn your head to look at him, bright smile. He immediately looks down at you and he returns your smile.

“Hi.” He says, eyes only on you now. “Congratulations.” He grins, hand going to your shoulder as he squeezes it gently. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thank you.” You answer, hand patting the seat next to you. “I’m a little nervous.”

Jungkook sits next to you, his fingers itching to give you comfort but he is trying to respect rule number 2. “That’s normal. But you’ll be great.” He assures you with just words instead. You gaze at him, eyes clearly still holding some doubts but you take a long, deep breath before leaning into him, head resting on his shoulder.

“If you think so maybe I will be.” You tell him, trying to gain some confidence.

“You will be.” He tells you quietly, a little surprised you’re leaning against him so openly but what really shocks him is when your fingers find his on his lap, you grip them softly before you lean away from him again, your attention on Ara when she says something. But your hand remains on his.

Jungkook tries to breathe normally. It isn’t a big deal. But these sudden nerves remind him of the first time he ever kissed you when he was 14 years old. All nerves and no chill. He clears his throat, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze as he tries to join in on the conversation Namjoon and Yoongi are having. But then, you pull your hand away to reach for a water the server just brought as you continue chatting with Ara

He hates that he feels disappointed.

Oh. Wait. No…he gulps, throat drier than before.

He stares at nothing for a moment, trying to rid that thought with the shake of his head. “Jin and Hoseok couldn’t come or?” He asks Namjoon.

“Jin is on a business trip until Monday and Hoseok is sick.” Yoongi answers for him. “Hoseok wanted to come anyway but he sounded horrible on the phone.”

“Eh, probably for the best then.” Jungkook chuckles. He glances around the table, watching how Namjoon and Yoongi continue to talk, Jimin and Taehyung chatting about going out this weekend and Ara telling you about some guy.

He stares at your side profile as you speak, your hands moving around animatedly, words falling from your mouth…something about how this guy is funny and cute…and then he’s noticing an uneasiness. What guy? Expectation and disappointment lingering as he tries to listen more carefully.

“You guys really seem to get along,” You continue, “A perfect match!”

Oh. Jungkook relaxes. You’re talking about the guy for Ara. Disappointment averted. Expectation rising. He continues to gaze at you, a lazy smile starts growing on his lips as he watches and listens to you. You’re so cute. Pretty. Bea—everything. He wishes you’d believe him more when he says that to you. He rests his chin in his hand as he keeps staring.

“You’re so pretty today.” He suddenly blurts. You whip your head towards him, blinking repeatedly before you snort.

“Oh.” You laugh awkwardly, “I look the same as usual.”

Ara and Taehyung look at you both as well. “So you’re pretty every day.” Ara sings out.

“Well, according to Jungkook.” Taehyung whispers towards Ara and she swats his arm and he pretends he’s wounded, chuckling to himself. “But anyway, Ara…” He pouts at her. “Who is this guy you are even seeing?”

“Someone who really likes me.” She grins at him, proud glint in her eyes. But Taehyung squints at her.

“But you like me.”

“Nope.” She raises her nose in the air, “Not a chance.”

“So,” You eye Jungkook over, “You think I’m pretty today?” You ask him, voice directed only towards him as everyone chats. He doesn’t doubt the blush on his cheeks.

“You know this already.” He tells you, “But I still like telling you.”

It’s like his words are the match that lights a fire to your skin. You try to conceal an undoubtedly shy smile. Hating that like usual, he gives you such reactions. “Then thank you.” You mumble, still trying not to smile. You lean into him again, hand landing on his thigh. “Sometimes I can tell you aren’t teasing.” You say playfully, fingers squeezing his muscular thigh before bringing your hand back to your own lap.

Jungkook feels the absence of your touch again. And again, he’s disappointed. And then your words on expectations ring louder than ever. He finally gets it. Because he wants to expect this—your touch, words, anything. He wants that and he’s disappointed otherwise. He hates that you were the one with the worries but all along he’s the one understanding them.

“You’re affectionate today.” He mumbles quietly, eyes locked on yours. You raise your brows a bit, trying to think about it when you smile, looking a little embarrassed.

“Sorry, sorry…I didn’t—”

“—It’s okay. It’s kind of a relief I’m not the only one who broke a rule today.” He says, eyes looking a little more distant as he stares at you. “But…” He looks down for a moment, brows furrowed. “I think I broke a whole new rule. Well, I’m admitting it but it’s probably been broken.”

You study him, confusion falling onto your features, “What do you—”

Suddenly, his eyes rise again and he looks more determined. “Can we talk? Outside?”

You blink a few times, mouth fallen open. “Now?” You look around, “But—”

“—Please.” He says the word softly.

“Okay.” You sense how serious he is about talking so you agree. You excuse yourself from everyone else with Jungkook following. You both head outside of the restaurant, finding a quiet and empty spot on the side of the building. Jungkook leans against the wall, his eyes so focused on your face.

“So?” You sway into the wall as well, “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know.” He takes a breath, “Maybe?”

“What’s going on?” You take a one step towards him and his hands want to reach out for you but he controls them.

“I broke all of the rules.” He tells you simply. His eyes serious, with the slight furrow of his brows. “Every single one.”

“What?” You ask, looking genuinely confused. He can’t help but crack a smile, a weird relief flowing through his veins…because you’re just you.

“I had a hunch I was breaking it but I I’ve confirmed it.” He smiles at you. “Rule number one, I broke it a while back. I told my mom.” He grins now while you gape at him.

“What?!”

“Not a big deal,” He shrugs, “She liked the whole idea.”

“Jung—”

“—I guess I broke the second rule a few times. Rule number three, I clearly just didn’t believe in that one. Rule number four, first of all, fuck that rule.” He keeps smiling at you.

“You break it!” You scold him.

“Thank god that I do.” He shrugs again, devious smile on his face but then he softens considerably. “And rule number five,” He takes a deep breath. “I broke that one too. I’m breaking it now. It might even be the first rule that I broke.”

You process all his words very slowly. Starting from the beginning…but your brain is catching up. You don’t even separate your lips. They stay glued to one another as you look at Jungkook with pure confusion.

“I know you don’t really get it.” He says softly, lips spreading into a barely there smile. “Since you’re such a stickler for the rules.”

“Are…” You finally try to speak, head shaking a little. “Are you saying you …?”

“That I have feelings for you?” He looks up at the night sky, “Yeah, breaking rule number five would mean that, wouldn’t it?”

“Jungkook…” You say his name slowly.

“I know. I get it.” He looks back at you, nothing but a content expression. “But for obvious reasons we should stop this fun little arrangement because I was right…” He chuckles, “I am not cut out for it.”

“Then—”

“—And please don’t hate me. I want to stay and celebrate but I also want to give you some space to think and process and what not.”

“Process?” You blink at him.

“I don’t really know. Maybe it’s me…is it okay if I go home for now? I promise,” He looks at you sincerely, “This won’t change our friendship, y/n. But can I have just a couple days to work through it by myself?”

You really don’t know how to respond. Your throat feels dry. You only nod at him.

And just like always, he makes you entire body react. Including your fucking heart.

You’re sure everyone could tell you were acting strange during your celebratory dinner. It doesn’t take a genius to understand that after Jungkook left you got into a down mood…no one knows why, of course. You still tried to have fun with your friends despite the giant hole that’s broken your chest apart.

You told everyone that Jungkook had a sudden work thing he had to take care of and they bought it—well, you think so anyway. Doesn’t matter. It’s now almost 11pm and you’re trying to focus on tomorrow’s presentation but Jungkook is the only thing you’re really thinking about. You keep opening and closing your laptop, thinking maybe you’ll get something done but you keep glancing at your phone. You need to talk about this.

Finally, you reach for your phone, fingers poking at the screen harshly as you try to make the phone call you are trying so desperately for. Ringing. It’s ringing. Still ringing. Words risen from your throat, so close to spilling shamelessly from your mouth. You take a deep breath…you need an answer.

“Hello?” Finally.

“I lied earlier.” You blurt quickly, needing to get things off your chest now.

“Hm,” Ara hums out softly, “Let me guess?”

“You won’t—”

“—Just get into why Jungkook left earlier. Wasn’t for work, so…?”

“Oh.” You grip your phone a little tighter, pushing it against your ear. “You knew I lied about that?”

“I didn’t think you were so freaking sad just because he had to leave for a work thing.” Ara chuckles softly, “You’re more easy going than that.”

“I wasn’t that sad.” You keep your voice even.

“You took two bites of your food, y/n.” Ara says with the kind of tone that you know she rolled her eyes. “What happened?”

“God, okay.” You sigh out, “Remember how you thought…or you know…you know how I’m hooking up with someone?”

“I do know that, yes.” She responds calmly. “You’ve been seeing someone for a little while now.”

“Well,” You take another deep breath. “I’ve been sleeping with Jungkook. Since the night of the dare…when Taehyung made—”

“Yeah, I know the night.” She laughs into the phone, “We knew it was going to turn out like this.”

“Yeah, so—wait, what?”

“What?”

“What do you mean?” You ask her slowly, “Knew what?”

Ara is quiet for a moment before you hear her release a long breath, “It’s not like we didn’t know.” She says.

“Who the hell is ‘we’?” You furrow your brows, phone pressing closer to your ear. “Ara?”

“Hmm,” Her voice is light and airy, “Well, you know what they say about Taehyung.”

Your brows only pull together closer…what does that mean? You try to think about it because what do they say about—oh. Your mouth falls open as realization hits you. “That he has a method for everything.” You say, putting it together now.

“Mhm.” Ara laughs faintly, “So I’m probably not the one you want to be talking to. You thought cupid was a little angel baby. But he’s actually a tall, hot devil. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Wait—”

But she hangs up as you hear her laughing on the other side. Wait, wait, wait. You want more time to think and process what she just said but your fingers are moving faster than your brain.

“Hey,” Taehyung answers on the second ring. “What’s up—”

“—Are you home? I’m coming over.” You rush to speak, legs already moving as you find your bag and keys. “I’m leaving now.”

And not even 20 minutes later you’re standing outside of Taehyung’s front door, foot tapping against the ground as you not so patiently wait for him to let you in. You feel like you have waited an eternity but the reality is probably around 15 seconds. But finally his door swings open and Taehyung is here.

“Hello…” You narrow your eyes at him, speaking slowly. “Cupid.”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide before his lips settle into an annoying ass smile, smug and knowing. “Oh?” He crosses his arms over his chest before continuing, “I’ve been found out?”

You squint even harder at him, lips set into a firm line before you push past him, making your way inside his place. “Please explain to me whatever the hell Ara said about you.” You walk inside, getting comfortable on his loveseat. But then you tilt your head, “Why does Ara know? You told her?”

Taehyung closes the door before following you inside, “Uh, I praise Ara all the time for her incredible intuition. Her and I would make the smartest fucking kids.”

“You know what…whatever. Just explain to me what she means when she says you have a method for everything.”

“Well, where to start?” He asks, voice all cocky before he sits next to you.

“Uh, the beginning. So the day I got dumped. The night you dared—”

“—You think that’s the beginning?” Taehyung cuts in, laughter threatening to erupt. “Oh wow, no.” He shakes his head, “I’ve been playing the long game.”

“What?” You look at him incredulously, “What does that even mean?”

“It means you guys are dumb and I’m the best friend ever.” He says lightheartedly.

“You are the last person I would think would play cupid, Taehyung. You don’t even like romantic love!” you shout at him.

“But you guys do!” He shouts back. “Um, news flash, you guys are my best friends and I wanted to help out.” He shrugs now, “It all started back when Jungkook was 14.”

“Huh?” You blink at him, mouth open. Not totally getting it.

“Oh, poor Jungkook had the hugest crush on you, y/n.” Taehyung shakes his head, eyes down at his hands, looking solemn. “It was genuinely tragic because you didn’t even register he was of the opposite sex.”

“For real?” You deadpan.

“For real.” He nods, still solemn before he lifts his head and smirks. “But I had a genius plan.”

“The fucking first kiss.” You tell him.

“Yup, so genius.” Taehyung looks proud, “He still hadn’t had his first kiss because only lips he was thinking about was…” He pretends to gag, “…yours…”

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes, “But continue.”

“Anyway, I told him we should just ask you!” He gestures towards you, “It’s not like it was a big deal to you anyway. He was like guy number 4 for you.”

Your cheeks grow warm, “Well...”

“So yeah. Genius plan. But I didn’t know you were going to stick your tongue in his mouth and I didn’t know he was going to bite you.” Taehyung cackles, shrugging his shoulders. “Classic, classic.”

“Oh god…” You feel yourself grow embarrassed.

“Anyway, you vowed you’d never do that again and poor Jungkook was so traumatized from your reaction but well,” Taehyung shrugs again. “At least he got over you for a little while.”

“Taehyung—”

“That’s when I helped Jungkook.” Taehyung leans back onto his sofa, “I helped you the night I made you guys make out.”

“What are you talking about?” You ask him slowly, body tense but you try to mirror his body as you lay back into the couch cushion as well.

“I was helping both of you actually.” He chews his lips for a moment, “God, I would have done so earlier but you kept wasting your time with guys you didn’t even like. Jihoon, for example.”

“Oh.” You nod subtly, piecing it together.

“It was pretty obvious you two started hooking up after I dared you guys to make out.”

“How was it obvious exactly?” You eye him suspiciously.

“First, goodness gracious, the sexual tension was…” He brings his pinched fingers to his lips and gives them a kiss. “And also, I have both of your locations. You were always at his and he was at yours…especially at 2 in the morning…technology wasn’t on your side.” He says with a straight face.

“Damn…it never is.” You say with an equally straight face.

“So…you guys are…” He motions his hands around.

“Yeah, we were hooking up, Taehyung.”

“Were?”

“I had five simple rules.”

Taehyung looks at you, almost comically ashamed. “Should have guessed.”

“Rule number one, no one can know.” You begin listing them, “Rule number two, no pda. Rule number three, no pet names. Rule number four, not often, just three times a week.”

Taehyung looks at you with obvious disapproval before he silently mouths, ‘lame as fuck’. But you continue, “And rule number five…no feelings.”

“Okay…” He says slowly.

“He broke all of the rules. All of them. He told me.”

“…Okay.” He says slowly again, as if waiting for the point. “Is that supposed to be bad?”

You stare at him before snorting, “Uh, it’s weird! We’re best friends and now he apparently…it’s weird, right?”

“Uh, you guys are already fucking. Not sure it could get—”

“—I’m serious!”

“I’m serious too!” Taehyung starts laughing. “Y/n…be honest. You broke all the rules too at some point, right?”

“Well,”

“And if I helped you out doesn’t it just mean I’ve known about your feelings before you? Stupid, stupid.” He keeps laughing. “y/n, you broke that fifth rule before you even created it.”

“What?” You look at Taehyung, disbelief on your features. “I did not…well,” You suddenly glance to the side, teeth nibbling into your bottom lip. “Well, I don’t…I don’t know.”

“You do.” Taehyung shrugs. “You know exactly when you realized your feelings for him. Right?”

“No?” You blink at Taehyung, restless eyes now darting all around his living room. “Do I?” You question yourself quietly. “Oh…” You begin to chew on your lips again. “If I had to guess—”

“—You made those rules because like usual…you put restrictions on yourself.” Taehyung cuts in, his voice much softer now. Not much of his usual playfulness. “But the rules don’t matter, y/n. Jungkook was honest with you. Why don’t you try being honest with yourself as well?”

“Are you…” You look at Taehyung, choosing to be careful with your words when you decide you don’t want to be careful with them. “I have feelings for Jungkook too and I should tell him.”

“Well, yeah.” Taehyung chuckles, “He would probably like that.”

“I…” Your body goes limp against the cushion. “Honestly, you’re right but wow, I felt like this would be a bigger revelation.” You mumble more to yourself. “Why doesn’t it feel like I just realized something so insane?”

“Because you realized it years ago.” Taehyung answers you carefully. “You aren’t dumb, y/n. You know exactly when your feelings shifted…I saw it happen but after that it was lame guy after lame guy.”

You stare at the floor, teeth still digging into your lips. “Yeah, maybe.”

“You already know how he feels so isn’t it easy to just…tell him too?”

“Not really.” You sigh out, “I don’t have the confidence to tell him anything to make it all make sense.”

“It’s Jungkook…” Taehyung conceals a smile. “He gets you, no matter how much your ass doesn’t make sense."

~~~

You almost cannot believe it. You killed that presentation. Your boss sat at the end of the table, eyeing you with pride as you spoke so smoothly, going over the presentation like you knew the ins and outs with such expertise. Probably because that’s true. You were awesome, it’s true. You spoke clearly, smoothly and did the right things to keep everyone engaged.

“I knew this was going to be the perfect fit, y/n.” Mr. Kim tells you, big grin on his face. “You were a natural in there and you really know how to lead the team. I got a few new projects I want you to work on…I know you’ll do incredible.” And then he’s giving you a pat on the shoulder before heading to his own office.

You take a seat at your desk, legs shaking in obvious excitement. You can’t contain it. All the praises and the high you feel from presenting in front of a room of a dozen people is so fresh and contagious. Your entire body is tingling and you feel such a sense of motivation. The confidence is continuing to sky rocket and the only place you want to put this energy is into Jungkook.

It's Friday and you aren’t sure if he has plans or not but you have decided to go straight to his apartment right after work. Taehyung was right…you know exactly when your feelings shifted and you know exactly how to word everything. The high you feel has suddenly given you the confidence you need…you’re going to wing it. But somehow you know it will all makes sense.

It’s after 5pm and you’re sitting outside of Jungkook’s apartment door. You aren’t letting yourself in because somehow that feels wrong at this time. But after checking his location you can see he’s still not home from work. It’s after 6pm now. He’s still not home. You check his location again and you see he’s at the store…probably grocery shopping.

Almost 6:30pm when you start to feel anxious again. Too much time is passing and you’re growing further apart from all that confidence and motivation that was running through your veins earlier. You sit here, leg shaking in nerves now. Finally, you hear the distant ding of the elevator down the hall and you just know it’s him. You take a deep breath before standing up from the ground and leaning against his door. He comes towards his door, hands carrying several bags of groceries while he looks at you with big, doe eyes.

“y/n?” He says your name and you feel your muscles tighten. “Why…” He glances around, “Have you just been waiting here?”

“Yes.” You blurt, “I was waiting for you.”

He gazes at you with curious eyes before he lightly snorts, “Why did you wait out here? You should have waited inside.” He smiles now. “But uh, can you actually open the door. My hands are…” He lifts the bags with a sheepish expression and you immediately nod and turn to unlock the door.

“Umm, how was…” Your fingers are pressing against the key pad, “um, your day? How was your day?” You finally get the door open, holding it so Jungkook can slip through.

“It was okay.” He walks past you, his scent hitting your nose. He takes the bags into the kitchen and you follow him. He sets the bags onto the counter before facing you, his attention nowhere on the groceries. “How was yours?”

“Good.” You nod, “I did the presentation and it went so well and now I really need to talk to you.” You step closer towards him and he takes a step back, hands going to the counter as he leans against it.

“Oh, I knew it would go well.” He smiles, eyes sliding to the side. “You just needed a little—”

“—Not here to talk about the presentation.” You cut him off, taking another step. “I—”

“—Well,” His fingers grip the edge of the counter a little, “What exactly—”

“—Rule number one.” Another step, eyes boring into his. “I broke it when I went on that double date.”

Jungkook blinks at you, looking caught off guard. “Huh?”

“Told my date about you. Me and you.” You lift a second finger, “Rule number two, I broke that rule numerous times, didn’t I? First time was when we went to the movies with Jimin and when he wasn’t looking I kissed you. It was in public so I broke the rule. And last night…” You sigh, small smile on your lips. “Broke it again without realizing.”

“What—”

“—Rule number three, I broke that rule the night we were celebrating Jimin’s new found singleness.”

“Or you know, mourning his new found sadness.” Jungkook cracks a smile.

“Oh, right.” You nod, “Sorry I guess Taehyung wore off on me.”

“It happens.” He chuckles, “But—”

“—Rule number four. I broke that rule every single time you wanted me to. You’re right, that rule is the stupidest one.” You smile wider now. “Three times a week? What was I thinking?” You begin to make fun of yourself. “No wonder I didn’t really try very hard to keep you from breaking that one.”

Jungkook eyes you carefully, smile on his lips but it looks unsure.

“And rule number five.” You pause, taking a moment to take a deep breath as your eyes fill with sincerity. “I broke that rule a long time ago.” You admit to him and he scrunches his brows together, almost looks like he’s doubting you.

“Yeah.” You continue, “I broke it the day I graduated from University. The same day I tried to drunk kiss you.” You look at him with a serious expression now and he raises his brows in slight shock and realization. “I was devastated about my mom…but you made me feel like I could move past that sadness because you made me feel so much better.” You frown a little, “That night alone I realized if the only person in this entire world who cheers me on is you…then I could probably be happy about it.”

“y/n…”

“These rules were stupid excuses, Jungkook.” You take another step now. Your eyes going to Jungkook’s hands that grip the counter. “I’m sorry…” You watch as his hands fall from the counter and to his sides. “I was never a stickler for them…god, I am just as bad as you are.”

Jungkook stares at you with big eyes, his fingers twitching because he wants to reach for you.

“Also,” You bite your lip, trying to stop a chuckle from leaving your mouth. “I have another confession.”

“What’s that?” Jungkook’s expression looks soft as his fingers finally go to your waist. Your body losing all of its tension as soon as he touches you.

“You were also my first kiss.” Your entire face feels hot. “I lied about my other kisses…everyone else was always talking about it so…”

“Wow,” Jungkook’s fingers hold onto your waist tighter as his lips spread into a knowing grin. “That explains so much.” He teases you, “I mean…the sudden tongue in my mouth…”

“Hey!” You pout at him, “It wasn’t—”

“—Hey.” He cuts you off, fingers spreading over your blouse before his hands find your lower back and he’s pulling you closer to him. “If it makes you feel better, you’ve really improved.”

You frown theatrically at him before he starts really laughing now, one of his hands leaving your back to come to your face. “Really improved. Best in the world now.” He whispers, playful glint in his eye.

“You’re just saying that.” You roll your eyes, your own hands finding his chest. You splay your fingers across his shirt. “So,” You bite onto your bottom lip.

“So.” He strokes his thumb over your cheek. “I have feelings for you. You have feelings for me.”

“Yeah.” You breathe out, eyes trailing across his face. “What does it mean?” You ask him slowly, carefully. Fingers right over his beating heart. His cheeks turn rosy as he gazes at you, a blush turning him into a pink dream.

“It means we have new rules.” He smiles, teeth poking out adorably. “Five to be exact. And we actually will follow these.”

You quirk a brow at him, “Which are?”

“One…we tell everyone. Everyone has to know you’re mine now. Officially.” He smirks at you, his hand guiding your face closer to his before he plants a kiss to your lips. “Two…I’m going to hold your hands, hug you, kiss you…all the time. Everywhere” Another kiss.

“Jungkook.” You laugh into his mouth before he pulls away again.

“Rule number three…all the fucking pet names. You’re my baby and I’m going to call you that all the time.” Another kiss. “Rule number fucking four.” His hand tightens over your jaw a little, “We are fucking all the time. Like, all the time.”

You laugh, eyes staying on his before he kisses your lips again.

“And rule number five…” He leans back a little, soft eyes gazing at you and you can feel your body react like usual. Heart going crazy. “You should probably go ahead and tell me you’re in love with me now. Have feelings.” He looks at you so lovingly before leaning in again, lips slow to find yours for a long kiss. You sigh into his mouth, heart thumping wildly. “And,” He barely pulls his lips off yours. “You can never break that rule. Because for once, I think we finally found some rules I could follow.”

You pull away from him, just a few fingers lingering on his chest. “You think you can finally listen to me?” You ask him, cocky tone in your voice. “We should put it to the test.”

The corn of Jungkook’s lip start to turn, crooked smile forming on his face. “Yeah? Go ahead and test it, baby. Tell me to do something. You know I would do anything you wanted me to.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” You can’t help but smirk, front teeth digging into your bottom lip. “Okay,” You slide your fingers down his chest, eyes following as you start messing with the zipper on his pants. “You’ll really do anything I want?” Your eyes rise back to his.

His mouth falls open as he exhales a long breath, eyes already filling with desire. “Anything.”

“Hm,” You lick your lips, eyes glancing around. “Then put away your groceries.” You tell him with the nod of your head, “I can see there’s ice cream. Don’t let it melt.” And then you drop your hand from his body and turn to walk away from him.

Jungkook blinks at where you once stood. His mouth shuts and he conceals the smile that wants to spread so badly, “Fucking tease.” He huffs out, slightly shaking his head.

“I know,” You call out, stopping at the entry of the hallway, a hand on the wall. “But if you want more demands from me, you can meet me in the bedroom when you’re done.” You wink, disappearing into the hall.

“Cocky.” He talks to himself, rolling his eyes and turning his body towards the counter to start putting away the groceries. He chuckles, an endeared smile on his face, “But just like the new rules, I’d follow her to the ends of the Earth.”

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