(pretty minor — bartender kissing jk without consent)
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Summary
“I sometimes beat the shit out of guys who come on to you.” He said it slowly so he would never have to say it again.
Jungkook’s jaw slackened.
“You—what?“ he breathed out. “You—how long have you been doing th—that?”
“Since we started dating,” Namjoon admitted. “August.”
“Ah,” Jungkook said, “And how many guys have you beaten the shit out of?”
“Like five,” Namjoon sighed.
“Five! Five?! That’s like almost once a month!”
“Yeah…that’s about right.”
--or--
5 times Kim Namjoon (against all his non-violent instincts) beats the shit out of somebody for his boyfriend's honor.
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Bookmarked by confetticanon
07 Oct 2020
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Bookmarker's Notes
Oct 24 2020
God this is so fucking FUNNY, one of the best things I’ve ever read TBH. if ur thinking abt reading this u NEED TO.
//
“That guy from the coffee shop yesterday—the one who made me that really good latte—he sent me five pictures of his dick on instagram overnight,” Jungkook whispered, miserable, looking around. The spot was popular with faculty. People over the age of forty were everywhere. “I had to wake up to them. I wanted to text you but I didn’t know how to say it… what words to use… it was so gross. Why would he do something like that?”
“He didn’t say?” Namjoon asked, eyebrows arched, sardonic. “But actually, I already knew. He messaged me first. He thought I was you.”
“What?”
“You used my card and that’s how he got the name. He tracked me down, I told him to fuck off, and then he found you from my account.”
“Well, that sounds illegal. But—oh my god,” Jungkook said, burying his face in his hands. “I want to not see that guy again, but that’s torture! I love that coffee shop! No offense,” he said, dropping his voice, “But everybody here is like fifty.”
“So what should we do?”
“Nothing,” Jungkook moped. “We could always go to Starbucks.”
“Wouldn’t I rather die,” Namjoon said, narrowing his eyes. “Than give into the mass commercialization of coffee. The beans they use at our café are grown and sold by indigenous communities in Chile without an exploitative middle-man!”
“Okay, but they’re ground up and steamed with milk by a pervert!”
“I know, I know…. Maybe he just works Wednesdays?”
“Let’s hope.”
Namjoon took a sip. “What did the dick look like?”
“Oh my god, Joon,” Jungkook said in a low voice, serious, “It looks like somebody rolled an expired Italian sausage through a rat’s nest.”
//