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#jungkook eating
kookieats · 1 year
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hi! i’m back! <3
don’t forget to like if you saved. xoxo.
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faekoo · 2 years
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yummy 정국!!
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bangwoolofbangtan · 2 years
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blublublujk · 3 months
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closer
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oneshot
word count: 12.7k
genre: step-siblings to lovers, dead dove (proceed with caution)
pairing: dongsaeng jungkook × noona reader
summary:
Jungkook had always known there was something wrong with him when he realized his obsession with his Noona was far too intimate consider their relationship, but she was perfect for him. Can anyone really blame him for falling in love with his beautiful older step-sister?
warnings: [PLEASE READ] dead dove, eat with caution (they are step-siblings and it's a bit romanticized), there's mentions of the pairing as minors but nothing too oversexualized and in detail, mentions of violent behavior (not towards reader), mentions of jungkook possibly being asexual or gay (he's not lol), pairing has shit parents and jungkook's father is an alcoholic, parent issues to the max, petite reader (fit the plot better), explicit sexual content: dirty sexual thoughts, jk has a huge dick and he jacks off so much, someone's a virgin in this and it is NOT the reader, there's a lot of crying in this one, jungkook probably needs therapy and the reader lol, extremely possessive and obsessive jungkook, DADDY KINK, hickeys, unprotected rough vaginal sex, dubious consent but they both want it, dirty talk, the reader slaps jungkook, squirting, blowjob, cunnilingus, come tasting/swallowing, slight ass play, choking, multiple orgasms, passing out and overstimulation, creampie, pregnancy (oopsie)
a.n: well i have no fucking words. im actually a bit shy and embarrassed to release this after my last post but we move on! this wasn’t apart of my drafts either SIGH. wrote this because i was insanely horny and ovulating so have fun ig. please enjoy it nicely. i certainly did. if you look past all the dark stuff you might find it’s actually pretty hot. i cant even believe i wrote this. im really scared … if anyone is crazy enough, please comment your thoughts. tempted to do more of these deranged stories. since tmr is christmas i leave this as a final parting gift for this year though it has nothing to do with chirstmas. byebye angels and merriest of chirstmas to you all <3
—> m.list
—> find me on ao3 & twt
--
Jungkook has officially hit rock bottom. 
He has officially lost his mind. Again and again he comes back to what he knows he shouldn’t and knows that, but he’s only a man after all. Can anyone really blame him?
For the third time that night, Jungkook has fisted his cock empty. The younger’s dick was raw and swollen– sticky from the amount of beatings he had pumped. His ballsack had nothing else more to give him and Jungkook started to grow frustrated. His dick was still heavy in his palm, aching for something he knows he could never fucking have. It simply wasn’t fair. 
Jungkook pants loudly, wiping his dirty come all over his black sheets. He’s dripping sweat and he feels his dick might fall off if he keeps masturbating this much, but it was simply impossible. He’s a growing man after all, it was totally normal for him to have such a high libido. His doctor even said so (he asked him during a typical yearly routine exam and the professional confirmed it was more than normal, that usually as he ages he’ll simply grow out of it). Jungkook doesn’t even believe him anymore. The more he fucks his hand, the more he grows the urge to stuff his cock in his step-sister’s tempting pussy.
He knows it’s disgusting. He tried to overcome the disgusting need to fuck her until she begged for more, the compulsive thirst to eat her juicy pussy from behind, the lustful desire to ruin her for anyone else that dared lay hands on his older step-sibling. Jungkook has had too much time to think about these sinful– incriminating thoughts. He imagines how his step-sister would look all heavy and round, carrying Jungkook’s seed for nine months straight. What amazing mother she would be. He thinks about this all the time. 
And he’s not just saying this out of his ass. His step-sister saved him. He had one-on-one, firsthand experience to all her angelic glory. She’s patient, extremely caring, and she’s the sweest thing he’s ever known. Jungkook is in love with her. 
Can anyone really blame him? His Noona is the best. He’ll say it over and over, a million times until the whole world gets to hear it because his Noona deserves that and much more. 
Jungkook believes he’s the only one that could please his Noona. He truly believes that there is no better man in this world for her than him. He doesn’t care how selfish that seems. His Noona has been hurt too many times and Jungkook has unfortunately witnessed it all. Every heartbreak, every break-up, every stupid relationship he has had to tolerate. He falls sick to his stomach every time because he knows she deserves so, so much more and only he could do that for her. He knows how happy he could make her.
After all, only Jungkook knows what is best for her.  
Jungkook hears the living room door close hard, the house shakes from the harsh movement. The noise startles him from his current position. He quickly wipes the come off his abdomen and the sweat off his body. He’s sure he probably stinks or at the very least his room does, but the heavy footsteps coming from the stairs worry him more. 
“Noona?” He calls out and nobody answers him, by the time he’s shoving on the first pair of sweats he can find his bedroom door opens wide. Jungkook still has sweat dripping down his bare back, praying that it goes unnoticed. He simply got carried away, fucking his cock into his hand for thirty minutes straight.
“Noona…” Jungkook reaches out the second he hears you whimper. The second he has you in his arms you completely let go. Tears stream down your face with no plans on stopping and Jungkook feels his heart break in two. In a way, he feels conflicted. 
On one hand, he’s extremely upset about whatever caused you any trouble and he’s willing to do anything to make it up to you. Buy you your favorite ice cream. Take you to watch a movie. Cook you a yummy home meal. He would do anything if it meant he could make you smile again. 
But on the other well, Jungkook’s fucking pissed. He needs to know exactly what happened, who fucking did this to you, and how the fuck he even let this happen. He’ll kill whoever did this to you. He will. Jungkook would do anything for his Noona, even if that meant killing someone with bare hands. 
“What’s wrong, Noona?” Jungkook’s gentle when asking the question, watching you cry your heart out. The younger rubs circles into your back, comforting you in a time of need. “What happened? Tell me. Jungkookie will help.” 
You sob into his chest hard and Jungkook can’t help the way his insides flare. He wants to burn the world down. That way, nobody can harm you and he can take care of you like he’s meant to. Jungkook was born to love and care for you. He feels that deep in his (dark) heart. 
“Oh, Jungkookie…” He keeps rubbing circles, desperate to make it all go away for you. His Noona didn’t deserve this. 
“I found the messages.” Between hiccups, you cry harder trying to explain the problem. It hurts. It hurts so bad, maybe you’ll never be good enough. For him, or for anyone.  
“What messages, Noona?” Jungkook’s nose bumps into yours, cautious doe-eyes stare down at you. Fire lights deep inside them, but they don’t scare you because Jungkook could never hurt a soul. Not your innocent little step-brother. Certainly not your sweet dongsaeng. 
“S-Seojun’s.” You have trouble breathing and Jungkook pats your back softly, being extremely patient, but deep inside him, he can’t wait to beat Seojun’s ass regardless of whatever you say next. “He— he cheated on me.” 
Jungkook no longer exists in the same universe you do. The first thing he sees is red. Jungkook’s going to fucking murder Seojun. How fucking dare he!
How could he ever cheat on you? Seojun must have a death wish and Jungkook can’t wait to deliver his wish personally. He should cut off each fin—
“Jungkookie… m-my heart hu—hurts.” He snaps out of the dark space in his head and starts drying your tears with his thumbs. 
“Noona… he— he doesn’t deserve you.” Jungkook starts, holding you up with a strong grip. He could feel your squishy breast pressing hard against his upper stomach. In a different moment, different situation, he would have popped a boner and it would have been extremely awkward. Jungkook is not small in any sense but he’s a bit insecure. He wonders if you would love the feel of his huge cock invading your guts, but that’s for another time. “I’ve told you this before but you deserve someone that doesn’t make you question their love for you. Someone that loves you so much it could kill them. They should love and care for you so much that they would be willing to do anything for you. You shouldn’t have to deal with this, Noona. He doesn’t deserve you. Nobody does. They can’t ever love you. They won't. You’re safe here Noona, I love you.” 
“My sweet Jungkookie…” You sigh as tears begin to slow down and stick to your face. “That’s right. Only you could ever love me this much I think. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook snaps. If anything Seojun should be crying buckets, begging for forgiveness and mercy because after Jungkook’s done with him, he’ll regret ever meeting you. Jungkook can’t wait to make the motherfucker pay for his unforgivable crimes. “He’s just a coward. Not a real man.”
“Oh my Jungkookie, when did you become so big? Huh? So grown up.” Your tone wavers as you continue. “You’ve always been such a romantic. Isn’t that right? Noona’s so proud of you Jungkookie, the best dongsaeng I could ever ask for.”
Jungkook melts with every compliment. 
When you first met Jungkook, he couldn’t even look you in the eyes. He would get so fucking nervous around you. His stomach would flip whenever you stepped into his line of sight. He doesn’t remember a time he didn’t have the biggest crush. 
Like anyone else, Jungkook assumed this was nothing but a minor crush. It was his first crush. Jungkook didn’t have experience with girls or dating for that matter. He wasn’t at all interested in any of that. For a cool minute, the younger assumed he must be gay, clearly it was the only explanation that made sense at the time, but then he realized not even then he felt anything. His best friend, Taehyung is extremely gay and pretty handsome (if he must admit), but he could never be with him, much less fuck the man. 
His next thought is he has to be asexual. Jungkook didn’t ever think about sex, much less want to participate in any sexual activity. The thought used to disgust him. There was no one worthy. No one he would like to stick his dick into. Jungkook was broken! 
Then, his father came home one night, shit-faced couldn’t even hold himself up. Jungkook had to carry him to bed that night. He was only fifteen years old, he had no busy doing that, yet had no choice.
“Son. W-Wan you to meet someone tu—tomorrow.” His father begins, Jungkook winces when he reels him in close, breath stinking of some sort of strong alcohol. “Yu— got you a ma—mother. S-Stepmother.”
Jungkook’s heart drops. He doesn’t need a fucking mother. Jungkook is happy with the way things are right now. Just him and his dad. No matter how broken their relationship is. He doesn’t need a mother. 
“Appa, I don’t—”
“Quiet. Shh.” His father ends the conversation with a finger tap to his mouth. Forbidding the younger to get another word out. Jungkook feels he could sob because knowing his father, he was impending doom. “Sleep now child. Come here. Sleep with Appa.” 
That night, Jungkook unfortunately sleeps in his father’s bed which reeks of musk and cheap cologne with a hint of mixed perfume. He doesn’t sleep all night, worried that he’ll wake up and his father will have choked during his sleep. He’s afraid that if he turns his head, he’ll find his father dead. Maybe that would have been better. That his father never woke up that next morning. Then he wouldn’t be stuck in the situation he was in today. His father’s at fault. 
Jungkook’s father brings his “step-mom” over the next day and Jungkook doesn’t know how to feel. He hates her. He absolutely despises her. Jungkook feels it in his heart that she will completely ruin his life. 
Jungkook already has a mom. She died giving birth to him. It’s not her fault. Jungkook’s mom is incredible and he’s heard great stories. Nobody will ever compare to his mother. Even though Jungkook never got the chance to meet her, he knows he would have loved her and she him. In another lifetime, Jungkook would have loved to spend his entire life in the warm arms of his mother. 
What he wasn’t expecting was his step-mom to bring company. Jungkook obsesses from the very, very start. 
“Jungkook-ah, meet your step-sister, Y/N. She’s two-years older than you. They are moving in with us, so I hope you will be a good dongsaeng to your Noona. We’ll live as a happy family from now on. Ain’t that right, Yeobo?” His father leans in kissing his step-mom with passion. Jungkook thinks if the situation was different he would have thrown up the sandwich he had for lunch, but as he looks up at you, he finds you playing with the ends of your sweater. You’re tiny. He doesn’t believe you’re older than him. You can’t be. Barely seventeen, but you have yet to grow into your lady parts. Jungkook couldn’t stop staring at you. Your lip was swollen from how hard you were sucking it from nerves. This had to be just as difficult for you as well. 
With careful steps, you stretch your hand out, making peace with your new step-sibling. “Hello Jungkook, it’s nice to meet you. I promise to be a good Noona. I look forward to moving in. I hope you can accept me. I promise to take good care of you.” 
The younger almost falls to his knees. He’s never seen a more beautiful smile. Jungkook takes your tiny hand in his. His hand is bigger than yours, he’s tempted to compare sizes. He’s even slightly taller than you. Jungkook puffs his chest thinking about how he’ll only grow taller. He’ll soon tower over you. 
Jungkook doesn’t even say anything to you that night. Not a single word. He can’t. He shakes your hand awkwardly with a deep blush setting on his cheeks. Jungkook promises one thing. He promises to care for you too. That promise stays in his head for now, but Jungkook is certain now. He’s definitely not gay and he isn’t fucking asexual. Not anymore. Not ever.
Since then, it’s like you’ve been attached by the hip. Jungkook grew to become a man. Now twenty-three and you twenty-five. And you grew into a woman besides him. 
He was the best dongsaeng you could ever ask for. Jungkook was sweet. He would cry about everything and anything. While trying to get closer to one another and build a bond, you thought it would be a good idea to watch classic romance films. Jungkook would cry to every single one. A true romantic at heart and you, being the best Noona ever, would be there to comfort him. Like you would your own baby brother. 
Back then, you used to dream of having siblings, you’re extremely lucky you get to live that with Jungkook. You didn’t mind that he was a big cry-baby, it was endearing that a boy could have so many emotions and show them without holding back. 
He was extremely sweet. Jungkook was protective, like any usual brother was. Always looking for ways to watch out for you and even though he was the younger, he took care of you, a lot. 
Your mother wasn’t present much. And his father was much worse. They simply weren’t there. Not then, not now. But Jungkook was there. He was the shoulder you could cry on, the person you could run to, the only person you could fully depend on. Jungkook was always there. 
Jungkook was very kind-hearted, so innocent and pure. He was never the kind of guy to bring girls home. Talk about sex. You aren’t even sure if he’s ever had a girlfriend or even ever had sex for that matter. He even watches his mouth around you. He doesn’t cuss and he certainly doesn’t act out. He’s a very good boy, the best and kindest dongsaeng. 
“Thank you, Jungkookie.” You pull him closer, hands wrapping around his solid back, with a sniffle you question. “You— you’re hot?” 
Jungkook blanks, very confused. Were you realizing your love for him? Is this the way it will happen? Jungkook’s not sure he wants it this way. Not after he just helped you get over another man. He hopes this time for fucking good. He cannot bear hearing about Seojun and his stupid face ever again. 
“Do you have a fever, Jungkookie? You’re sweating!” You start to pat him all over, trying to measure his temperature with your hand. “Oh no my baby, let’s get you to bed!” 
Jungkook nearly awes. You went from having one of your worst days to completely being concerned about his well being. The younger beams in relief, he’s lucky his Noona is clueless. So fucking unaware. Doesn’t even realize the sheets are still filled with his filthy release. All thanks to her beauty.
“I’m okay Noona, you should head to bed. It’s been a long day.” The younger leans in for another hug, a thank you for being so kind. 
You keep insisting. “But you’re dripping! You have a fever, Jungkookie!”
Jungkook chuckles with you in his arms. “I worked out before you came home. I didn’t have time to shower. I don’t have a fever, everything’s okay. ” 
You fake a gag. “Yuck! Don’t even warn me either! Jungkookie, you’re an animal!” 
Oh, if only you knew. :)
Jungkook doesn’t allow you to slip from his arms, only holding on tighter.
“Scared of a little sweat, Noona?” The younger teases with a sly smirk. 
“When it's you, yes. Don’t want my dongsaeng’s sweat on me.” Jungkook tries to look past the “when it’s you” because what the hell does that mean? Would you like sweat if it came from someone else? Would you touch him if he was someone else? Would you lick it off if the situation was different? Jungkook swats all those thoughts away. He almost popped a boner and he doesn’t understand how that’s even possible after the day he’s had today. He is done for today, but his dick sadly has a mind of its own. 
“Whatever. Go sleep!” Jungkook unfortunately has to let go which is the worst part, but is surprised when you’re blushing against his still, very bare chest, your smaller hand resting on his abs. 
“Can… can you come sleep with me Jungkookie?” You get so shy Jungkook has to hold back from babying his own Noona. 
Like music to his fucking ears. Of course, he’ll sleep with you. He silently thanks Seojun for being a fucking dumbass. Jungkook’s about to pick up all the pieces he just broke earlier and never, ever give them back. 
“Don’t get all shy on me Noona, of course I will! What type of dongsaeng do you take me for?” Jungkook dramatically in offense holds his chest. 
“Only the best, my sweet Jungkookie, but go shower first. You reek.” The younger gasps, feigning offense. 
“No I don’t!” Jungkook is quick to defend himself, coming close so he could smell his pits. He’s probably smelled better, but he actually doesn’t smell, not that he knows of. If anything he’s surprised his room doesn’t reek of that crappy lotion he uses to get himself off. “See!”
The taller brings you in once more and you push him off hard. “Absolutely not you maniac! Go shower now!” 
“Fine!” Jungkook gives up and just as he’s about to retrieve the stuff he’ll need for his shower, he asks. “Your room or mine?” 
He silently prays you pick your own because he cannot stand the smell of his own room any longer. Plus you still have yet to notice the come on his sheets. Jungkook would be so embarrassed if you saw his soiled bed like this. His Noona deserves nothing but the best. A clean, comfortable environment. His room was probably a safety hazard right now and he wasn’t willing to risk the chance for conversation. 
“Mm, mine!” You decide with a pretty smile.
“Okay, Noona. I’ll be there in five. Don’t wait up for me.” With one last hug and a kiss at your temple, Jungkook goes off to shower and you retreat to your room. 
Yes, it was a bit strange. Sleeping with your grown step-sibling and all, but that’s the bond you and Jungkook had grown. The bond was so strong. You guys did just about everything together and by each other’s side. There was never anything super strange about that to you. 
Your friends once commented how it was just a bit weird. The strange relationship you carried with your step-sibling and that maybe you were just slightly a bit too close. That made them uncomfortable. 
Every time they would come over, Jungkook was just there. Jungkook always came first. They heard it too many times and saw it with their own eyes. When they finally decided to speak to you about it, you freaked saying it was nothing like that! Your relationship was nothing short of platonic, if anything. Jungkook was just your sweet little dongsaeng. Nothing more, nothing less. What was so strange about that? 
After that, your friends never brought it up ever again. There was no use. You would never see things in the way they would. It still made them uncomfortable from time-to-time, but Jungkook made you so happy so they kept to themselves for your sake. 
Jungkook rushes while in the shower. He scrapes his body clean and practically flies out the shower. Jungkook knows it’s useless right now, but he applies a bit of his costly cologne. Only because he knows you love it so much, you compliment him every time he wears it. Since then, he has bought at least eight more times because he doesn't go a day without wearing the damn scent. He knows you will likely be dead asleep by the time he gets to climb in bed, but he wants it to stick to his skin and last until tomorrow then you will cling and smell the cologne until your nostrils get used to it. 
With one last look into the mirror, Jungkook makes it to your room. The younger is obsessed with your room as much as he is with you. Your room smells, tastes, and looks just like you. 
Every time you aren’t home, Jungkook practically lives in your room. The amount of times he’s masturbated in this exact bed. Your sheets are incredibly soft, very pink and the best part is you leave your scent all over them. Jungkook smells and smells your honey-like scent until he grows desperate, then he’ll make a mess all over himself, being careful so he doesn’t leak into your sheets. However, sometimes he’ll catch himself leaking all over your stuffed animals. The younger doesn’t even feel bad about it, not one bit. He probably should, he’s disgusting and shameful. For now, Jungkook lives with himself and his rancid thoughts. 
When Jungkook gets to your room, he finds you already fast asleep, leaving the left side of your bed open for him. The younger salivates when he sees that your blanket isn’t covering your body, not at all. It’s almost like you’re inviting him, the whole world wants him to fail miserably and you clearly don’t care about his well-being. 
By now, Jungkook is used to the way you dress. It kills him inside whenever he watches you walk out the house, perky breasts and that fat juicy ass tempting every walking man alive the minute you step out that front door. When you’re off to bed, you wear these little boy shorts that drive him insane because they cover nothing. Your plump ass falls right out from the stretchy material and Jungkook desperately wishes he could touch and squeeze until his heart’s content, but he would never touch you without your consent. He’s not an animal!
“Kookie?” He hears you slur in your sleep, small grabby hands reaching for him. Jungkook immediately places himself in bed, letting you wrap around his broad, strong figure. Even in the dark, he can see your ass hanging from outside your shorts. You must have gotten hot while waiting for him given that your blanket was nearly kicked down to the floor. Jungkook doesn’t care to pick it up. 
And why would he? He’ll keep you warm now.
Jungkook falls asleep with ease that night. His nostrils breathing that sweet scent and your light calm exhales lull him straight to dreamland, where his dreams consist of a love so precious and extremely forbidden. 
The next morning, Jungkook wakes up before you, which wasn’t usual at all. He was used to finding you up and running bright and early, cooking him breakfast before leaving to work, like you usually did for him. 
Before he even gets to open his eyes, he feels something push up against his stiff morning wood. It’s almost like he feels something constantly rocking against him, little-by-little. Jungkook shoves his erection deeper into the pillow-like sensation, chasing the enticing— irresistible feeling. 
Jungkook’s hips start moving on their own accord, pushing and thrusting into the soft feeling of clouds. His morning wood grows tenfold when he hears a quiet whimper. He only drives his cock faster and further into that unknown realm, searching for heavenly release. Cock heavy and aching inside his briefs. 
The younger almost jumps out of the bed when he hears the prettiest moan. He’s heard this delightful sound before. Only his Noona has the sweetest of sounds. He hates to admit it, but he’s heard these same moans before. And they didn’t come from his own doing, but Seojun’s. There were nights Jungkook couldn’t catch a wink of sleep because he overheard his step-sister getting fucked for hours on end. 
“Fuck. Oh my god. Don’t stop.” He would throw his pillow over his head and squeeze, praying the fucking ended soon which it probably did because Seojun was disappointing as fuck. Pathetic fucking punk. He prayed for that or that he suffocated himself to death, either was fine for him. As long as his suffering was put to an end. 
You sounded fucking perfect though. Jungkook could admit that easily. His Noona sure had a filthy mouth on her. Jungkook wanted to plug it with his fat cock. He wishes it was him instead and maybe one day it will. For now, he’ll continue dreaming. 
“Yeah? Like that?” Seojun would grunt while Jungkook rolled his eyes until they would hit the back of his head. He couldn’t do this anymore. Jungkook knows it’s as easy as bringing it up, but how could he look at his perfect step-sister and say that to her! He simply refuses. 
“Yes, like that. Yes please. Fuck, fuck, fuck— nghh!” And Jungkook was truly the worst. He could only hold himself back so much! 
Jungkook rips the drawer open in his room, feeling around for lube, lotion fucking anything that will get his dick wet and when he finally finds it, he squirts a considerable amount and starts fisting his slicken cock. He grows thicker in his own hand. Jungkook wonders how his cock would look if it were your hand instead. He moans just imagining the idea.
“Coming.” Seojun’s muffled groans also echoed in his room. He doesn’t know how you do it and to be frank, he wishes Seojun would just shut the fuck up and do his job. The younger smirks knowing he’s struggling, leaving you in disappointment. He’s positive he’s never had his dick wet for more than ten minutes. What a bum! Can’t even please his girl. 
Jungkook hears your moans grow louder. He swears he can hear them ringing in his fucking ears. Like you purposely wanna get caught. Jungkook gets too much into his head because he starts growing desperate, nearly coming all over himself. 
If the situation was different, Jungkook knows he wouldn’t stop fucking you until you were passed out. It was only fair. You needed a real man, someone who could satisfy you without question. He knows he could do it. Fuck being experienced. Why does someone need all this experience if Seojun is proving that even by being a manwhore that doesn’t guarantee you a happy sex life or jackshit. 
Point is, Seojun sucks and Jungkook will imagine it’s him instead of that lame fucker. He’ll imagine it’s him that’s making you feel all those things, that’s making you scream into the pillow. Though if it had really been him, Jungkook would snatch that pillow away from your mouth. He would want to hear every single sound that comes from your pouty mouth. Fuck, Jungkook couldn’t wait for you to be his and only his. 
That night, Jungkook came all over his hand, some landing on his face. He wishes you were there to lick it clean.
… 
Even in his fucking dreams, Jungkook feels like he can’t catch a fucking break. 
His hips still, he doesn’t wanna further embarrass himself by humping into his step-sister’s ass like some horny desperate teenager. Jungkook knew this was a terrible idea, especially considering that he’s had the hardest time keeping his dirty— filth of thoughts to himself. Jungkook didn’t know how much longer he could live without knowing the taste of that perfect little pussy. How snuggly you would fit around his huge cock. He knows you could take him so well, you were made for him after all. 
“S okay Jungkookie, ‘s normal. Noona isn’t mad.” The younger pretends to be asleep while he hears you babble in sleep, but you know he isn’t and to save his dignity (and yours) you allow it. Jungkook can’t help, but to think maybe you wanted it too. Was that crazy? 
You both fall back to sleep. This time Jungkook gives you a respectful distance so he doesn’t commit the same mistake as before and when he wakes up, you act as if nothing happened and Jungkook appreciates that. He had the absolute best Noona, always looking out for her dongsaeng, no matter the situation. 
As the days pass, you and Jungkook spend a lot of time together. Maybe it’s because you are single again or maybe it’s because you just wanna spend time with your (not so) little step-brother. 
Jungkook’s the happiest. He no longer has to listen to you talk about Seojun and he gets to spend all the time in the world with you. For some time, he believes things are perfect. 
Every night, you fall asleep on his chest. Waking up in his arms and Jungkook falls in love harder. Sometimes he steals kisses while you are sleeping. You wouldn’t mind, right? 
He kisses your chubby cheeks, kisses your cute button nose, he’ll even kiss your smaller fingers, one-by-one. He has yet to taste those plump lips, but he doesn’t doubt they don't taste of flowers and honey. 
“Jungkookie, you think you could fetch me my shoes? I left them near the closet door.” The younger hears you call out to him and being the good step-brother he was, he snatches your shoes up and starts walking away. It seems you forgot something else because Jungkook snaps his eyes to your phone, which starts buzzing with notifications. 
Jungkook knew your password of course, you didn’t hide anything from your baby step-brother and he knows it would be wrong to invade your privacy, but he simply wants to see who it is. There’s absolutely no harm in that! 
The taller snatches up your phone, disconnecting it from the charger and he sees red for a minute. 
Three missed texts and two missed calls, in bold texts your phone reads, Seojun❤️.
He immediately smashes in your passcode without hesitation and any permission. What he finds is absolutely disgusting. Jungkook feels sick. 
Seojun❤️: i miss you baby :(  been thinking of that pussy can’t wait to stuff you full soon
Jungkook goes back to the messages from before, his ears are hot. He doesn’t know whether to scream or cry his eyes out. 
Seojun❤️: coming over
Asshole doesn’t even ask for permission, just does what he feels is right and that only riles Jungkook further. 
Me: don’t can't tonight jungkook's home
Good girl, good Noona. He knew he could trust you, if only this asshole understood that you didn’t need anyone else and left you alone. Jungkook took care of you just fine. Just you and him. Always.
Seojun❤️: that never stopped us before? 
Me: jun, please. not tonight.
Seojun❤️: so when?  you guys are close again or what?  you know how i feel about that guy. 
Jungkook’s burning inside. He knows how you feel about him? The fuck was his problem. Jungkook’s tempted to smash your fucking phone in pieces. He’ll buy you a new one and it certainly won’t have this asshole’s number. 
Me: he’s not just some guy. he’s my younger brother. of course we are close.  soon. i’ll come see you soon. 
Seojun❤️: step. step-brother. 
Me: what does that have to do with anything jun?  he’s like a little brother to me. 
Seojun❤️: can he say the same? 
What. The. Fuck. 
Jungkook was gonna kill this stupid fuck. 
Me: don’t talk about him that way.  talk to you later. 
Seojun❤️: whatever. 
Then Jungkook rereads the messages over and over again. He’s fucking fuming. The younger hears the door before he hears you coming. 
“Jungkook.” Your voice drowns in his ears. He snaps a mean gaze towards you, your phone is in his hands and he’s shaking. “Oh Jungkookie… I can explain.” 
Jungkook throws your phone, landing hard against your bed, it bounces and falls to the floor. You jump in fear, your eyes widen, mouth parting slightly. 
“Don’t. I’ve seen it all.” Your step-brother’s voice trembles. His voice is cold and rough around the edges. “How fucking could you Noona?” 
You gasp at the sudden use of cuss words. Jungkook doesn’t cuss, not in front of you, not ever. He was a good boy, a very good boy. 
“Jungkook, listen—” 
“Shut up!” Jungkook snaps harshly. Those doe-eyes turn violent. “How could you!” 
“H-He— we were just testing the waters.” You explain with a pout, your tears already threaten to fall. Jungkook isn’t a yeller. He never loses his patience, no matter how upset he could be, but you’ve officially cracked him. 
“Testing the waters?” Jungkook ridicules with a dry laugh, eyes rolling. He couldn’t believe his ears. 
“Y-Yes.” 
“You’re back with him.” The younger one says as if it’s a statement. His tone is sharp, dripping of disbelief and hatred. Jungkook scoffs. “I can’t fucking believe you, after everything!”
“Puh— please stop yelling at me.” Jungkook’s eyes soften for a little when he hears your voice shake and eyes dampen with tears. 
His voice is still rough as he continues to spew the fire. “You really think he could keep you happy? That he could satisfy you? When will you finally see it, Noona? He’s fucking pathetic. Loser excuse of a man.” 
Your pout grows bigger and you start crying softly, embarrassed that the scolding is coming from someone younger, coming from the one person that should be learning from you. Shamefully, you can’t even look him in the eyes, you avoid his sharp gaze and continue crying pretty tears. 
Jungkook keeps spitting his words at you and you can’t bear them much longer. “You really think he will ever know what is best for you? That he could provide for you? I bet he—”
“And you do?!” You yell between your blur of tears, feeling like shit. 
“I do! I fucking do. Everything I do is for you, for us Noona. I’m here working my ass off to rebuild you and you let him break you over and over! Aren’t you sick of him? Sick of this? Because I am. I fucking am. I hate him and I hate that you let him come between us!” The taller uses his height to his advantage, towering over you while he spews his truth. 
“For me? For us?” You speak in disbelief, scoffing and wiping off your tears roughly with your long sleeve. “Jungkook, you speak like we are together! This isn’t normal. The way you care for me, it— it isn’t normal. You should be getting lost in the lights at your age, dating around. I’ve never seen you even speak to another girl besides me! It’s strange! Plus, Seojun… he’s truly the only one that cares for me. Besides you.” 
Jungkook explodes. The taller tugs you towards him, a strong hand on your throat while he squeezes mercilessly. You immediately wrap your hands around his wrists, trying to shove him off, but Jungkook’s much taller, much stronger than you are. It’s no use, the more you pull, the more he tightens his hold. You struggle to breathe, hiccuping dry tears. 
“I really tried to do this your way Noona. I tried to be patient and do this at your pace, but you’re fucking clueless. I love you. Don’t you see it? Of course I care. I’ve always cared. I’ve loved you since the very first day. I tried to overcome these emotions but the more I denied them, the stronger they became. I let them consume me. I’ve never been more at peace, but I can’t stand here and watch you ruin yourself any longer. I can’t. You and Seojun are done. Do you understand?” Jungkook’s hand is still on your throat and you just nod desperately, hoping that he lets go some time soon. 
You should have known, should have seen it coming. People warned you, at least, they tried. You wouldn’t listen and refused to believe it (or see it). Jungkook wasn’t a bad person, he still isn’t. He’s just confused and young. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s not in love it’s just fascination, yeah, you’ll say that for now because it makes you feel better. Not because you definitely feel something splur in your own (tainted) heart. 
“Good baby, good. I never wanna see, hear, or know anything about that stupid fuck ever again.” Jungkook loosens his grip a bit and you immediately take a gush of breath. “He’s not good for you. Never will be. You deserve so much more Noona, isn’t that right?” 
Between a few tears, you keep nodding. 
“Yeah, only Daddy knows what’s best for you. Right?” The younger one doesn't even blink when saying the words. For a second, you think about who he is referring to as daddy, but then you realize. This was so fucking wrong, and yet you feel yourself slipping already. Maybe he was right. What’s the point of denying it? “Only I could ever love you the way you deserve to be loved. Uh baby?”
You nod with a muffle cry. 
“Speak.” Jungkook orders. “Tell Daddy that he’s right. Let me hear it.” 
“Y-Yes Daddy.” He hears you sweetly comply and even through a blur of tears, you see him smiling down at you. 
“Good, good girl. Now, give Daddy a kiss baby.” Jungkook leans down and you hesitantly meet him halfway. The kiss is very sweet considering the pressing situation. Jungkook curls his lips around yours like there’s nothing off or wrong about this situation. He doesn’t seem to mind this at all, like he’s been dying to get to do this with you. You don’t know whether to be happy about that idea or fall sick to your stomach. Either way, you continue to kiss him. 
The taller pries your mouth open with his tongue and you allow him access, pouty lips slack. Jungkook sucks and licks into your mouth, greedily tasting the juices on your tongue. His tongue clashes with your messily, spit mixing in the process. It's dirty and filthy. And it is extremely wrong. 
You feel so guilty because you’re the older one of the two. You should be the one putting a stop to this, but the more his tongue explores your mouth, the more you dip into the dark— alluring abyss.
“Been dying to do that.” Jungkook breathes into your lips savoring the taste of your salty tears and cherry chapstick in his mouth. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited.” 
You whimper quietly and the younger soothes you in his arms. “W-We shouldn’t, Jungkook, not yu—you.”
His smile wavers for a second. “Don’t be scared, Noona. Who else other than me huh? Who can love you like I love you?” 
You close your sad eyes to imagine what would have happened if you just came to grab your shoes yourself, wishing you had done that instead. You would have seen your phone and picked up the call instead. This was so wrong. With a deep sigh, you let the darkness consume you too. 
“I love you, Noona.” Jungkook whispers, his eyes awfully speaking the truth. 
“I-I love you too.” The taller smiles and kisses you once again, this time you don’t even fight it. You don’t hesitate. You take time to enjoy the feel of his lips moving passionately against yours and let yourself be loved. For once, you feel loved and that’s enough for you.
Jungkook takes your cheeks in his calloused hands and starts kissing everywhere. Leaving his trace all over your face. He kisses your nose, your forehead, your lips again. Jungkook brings his nose across your jaw, leaving little pecks here and there. When he reaches your neck, he starts licking and sucking every inch of sensitive skin, hoping to leave his marks behind.
The younger is satisfied when he sees the dark spots he’s left to beautifully decorate your skin. 
“Open.” He taps two fingers against your mouth, wrapping his other hand around your neck and you slightly slack your jaw on command. Jungkook shoves those two fingers into your mouth, pushing them down against your wet compliant tongue. He watches you struggle to take them further, gagging a few times around his sloppy fingers. Jungkook was right, you look so fucking good when something is fucking your mouth. “So good for Daddy.” 
Whining against his fingers, Jungkook pulls them out. Cock already feeling tight and heavy inside his pants. He couldn’t wait to get out of these and you weren’t doing any better. You could feel slick start to dampen your panties.
“So pretty, Noona. The prettiest.” Jungkook starts to kiss you again. It starts off a bit slow, but there’s hunger in the way he looks at you. He’s waited so long for this moment, he doesn’t wanna hold back any longer. The younger wants to let it all go tonight. It’s only right. There’s no more hiding, no more secrets. Jungkook was gonna claim what was so rightfully his. 
“J-Jungkookie, maybe we should–” The taller licks into your mouth before you can continue and you grow really desperate, feet shuffling from nerves. You need to stop this before it gets any further, before it gets to the point of no return. “Wuh-we should s-stop.”
Jungkook ignores you. He sucks and bites your bottom lip into his mouth and you’re starting to lose sense of everything so quickly. Suddenly, Jungkook’s hand is at your throat again, but he doesn’t squeeze it. He just holds it, kisses around your face with gentle movements. “You have the nerve for sure Noona, don’t you think you owe me an apology. Huh baby?”
“I– I’m sorry.” Jungkook would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on the way you quickly adapted and complied. 
He shakes his head, squishing your cute cheeks together, tempted to kiss them both and he does after he’s done speaking. “That simply won’t do. Think that’s enough for everything you’ve done to Daddy? For all the hurt you caused? Get on your knees baby.” 
And what else can you do, but drop on your fragile knees. The second your knees hit the hard, cold floor, you whimper in pain. 
“Hurts? Here, my love.” Jungkook awes with empathic doe-eyes, without hesitation he reaches for one of your softest pillows and places it down below your knees, helping you onto the comfortable cushion. “Better?” 
It is shocking and not at the same time, how quickly Jungkook seems to be okay and fine with this whole thing. If it’s true that he’s been dying to do this for years then in a fucked up way, it kinda makes sense, but it doesn’t change the fact that you guys are family, on paper and in every way that it matters. Your parents are married for fuck’s sake. 
“Yes.” You simply respond and Jungkook smiles contentedly. 
“Yes what?” He asks, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
You hesitate, but end up giving in. Does it even really matter anymore? The deed had been done. You fucked yourself over the second you let him take control of the situation. Jungkook owns you. “Yes Daddy.”
Jungkook towers over you, thick muscular thighs stand tall before you. He hums satisfied with your response. “Open up wide for Daddy.”
The taller has quick hands on his belt, snatching it off himself. Then he pulls his jeans down and tosses them aside without care. He keeps his briefs on for now. Jungkook needs to have you work for it, just a bit. It’s his right after all. 
“Pull my dick out.” He rasply orders and you gulp at the sight. He’s packing, you can’t even see it yet, but you are sure the real thing is not much different. Your hands shake as they come up to the waistband of his boxers. You’re about to see your baby step-brother’s cock and you don’t even seem bothered enough to care. 
Carefully, you pull them down slowly, revealing inch-by-inch. The tip of his dick pops out first, his slit already dripping pre-come. You practically salviate, gums aching to feel the weight of it on your tongue. Jungkook swears he might fucking burst all over your face before he even gets to stick it in. Though he hates Seojun’s guts, he kinda gets it now. Your soft touch on his sensitive girth nearly makes him shiver. 
To be fair, it is Jungkook’s first time! He’s never, ever done this before. He saved himself for the only person that deserved to have him. It was easy for him actually. There was not a damn person that made or could ever make him question his choice. He knew from the very beginning, it was you or no one else. 
Jungkook would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit terrified. He doesn’t wanna ruin this whole thing, he’s seen plenty of videos online, mainly through Twitter courtesy of Taehyung. Jungkook is extremely grateful. Seriously, he doesn’t know what he would have done without him. He doesn’t trust much people, but when he confessed at his grown age of twenty-two that he was still a virgin during a night of mixed drinks, Taehyung simply brushed it off and told him there was nothing wrong about that! 
Taehyung understood him to some degree. Sex is an intimate experience and you should only ever share it with the people who you truly love, but he was a manslut, through-and-through, so he couldn’t comprehend how Jungkook has lived so long without it. Major respect and props to him, but Taehyung could fucking never. 
Either way, Taehyung would send clips here and there as pointers to what some people could possibly like and enjoy during sex. Jungkook took plenty of mental notes, he was beyond ready. He shouldn’t be this nervous, but now that he has you right where he wants you, he’s shaking inside. He doesn’t know how sex workers do this on the regular. 
Finally, his dick is out, the whole nine-inch monster and you don’t even have the ability to face him anymore. His cock weighs heavy on your smaller hand. It’s the perfect fit, Jungkook thinks. 
With a shallow swallow, Jungkook tugs your head toward it. His tip leaks a bit and Jungkook hopes you don’t notice that he has no clue what he’s doing. After watching porn for so long, he can only hope that everything he’s doing so far is pleasurable for you both. 
“Lick it.” He says, voice rough and you do as told. 
Cautiously, your pink tongue slips out and experimentally starts licking. The second your moist tongue is on his cock, Jungkook’s guttural moan escapes his throat. 
This was gonna be much harder than he thought, but Jungkook’s been practicing. Jungkook is determined to last longer than any other fuck you’ve ever had. He’s determined to be the best and show you exactly what you’ve been missing, wasting all that time on stupid fucks that could never please and love you the way he could. 
“Open wider baby, yeah just like that.” Along with the tip of his cock, Jungkook shoves his thumb inside. Your mouth is so wet and warm, taking him exactly how he imagined you would. The younger wonders how much more you could take. 
“Gonna fuck your mouth now.” With one last warning, Jungkook plants his feet firmly and thrusts himself deep, causing you to gag so prettily around him when the tip hits the back of your throat. 
Clearly, you aren’t used to taking so much cock at once, Jungkook supposes he could go easier on you. But do you really deserve that from him? 
Jungkook doesn’t think so. 
So he fucks into your mouth harder and faster, his thumbs cleaning the tears that run down your face. Jungkook doesn’t hold back any sounds, he moans roughly when you suck a bit harder on it like you want it to hurt him. Good thing Jungkook likes the pain. It’s why he tatted himself so many times. Jungkook embraces everything, even punishing pain. 
“Easy with your teeth baby, don’t wanna hurt Daddy, do we?” The younger is a bit taken back when he sees you nod furiously, mouth full of cock, struggling while taking him deeper. God, you truly do look the best this way. “Oh? How will Daddy fuck you then silly?” 
You whine muffles with his girth down your throat, secretly rolling your hips on the pillow, rubbing friction against your clothed sex. 
“Huh? What’d you say?” Jungkook teases as he continues to brutally fuck your sloppy mouth, spit leaking down your chin. “I can’t understand you. Sorry!”
But he’s not sorry, not one bit! He practically eats you alive with his eyes, feeling the heat start to form in his stomach. Jungkook’s ready to come. 
He forces you to deepthroat him with a ruthless thrust, pushing your head down on his length, as far as you could go. Jungkook doesn’t dare let go until your eyes water beyond control and he doesn’t hear you breathe through your nose. When he releases the tight grip on your head, you are desperately breathing heavily, coughing spit.
“Puh—Please.” Your voice breaks. Jungkook looks down and almost feels bad, you look a mess. Pretty little mess. “N-No more.” 
He considers it, but he won’t let you go that easy. “Make me come, then you can beg for mercy after.”
Even after all this, Jungkook’s words surprise you. How? How was it fucking possible? For so long, you believed Jungkook was a certain person, a kind-hearted, romantic sweetheart. In a way, he still is. Jungkook truly believes that this was meant for him. That his whole purpose was to be yours. He never showed this side of himself ever and maybe that’s why it terrifies you. How much is he capable of and how much are you willing to give up for him? 
Jungkook throws his head back and moans loudly when you start sucking with purpose, your intentions set clear. He’ll come within seconds if you continue like this. 
You don’t let up. If he wants to come, he will. You suck down hard, taking his cock as far as your throat allows. There’s no need to lie, Jungkook tastes and even smells amazing down there. You’ve always known he’s been a clean freak, but he really does take care of himself well. 
Gargling him down, Jungkook starts to whine and slow down his pace, but you continue your menacing behavior, sucking him off the way you imagined he would like it. And Jungkook starts seeing stars. He knows that after this, he’ll never want to not do this. This was much, much better than fisting his own cock. You’ve completely ruined him. 
“I— I’m gonna come.” Jungkook says and almost immediately comes, bursting his release inside your mouth. “Swallow it.” 
There’s no doubt that you won’t. You continue sucking until he’s completely empty and swallow him down. 
Jungkook’s eyes are unrecognizable. Not that he looks any different besides his fucked out state, but they are so sharp and dangerously sexy. “Show me.” 
You stick your tongue out as far as you can and show him how nicely you’ve cleaned up after him, Jungkook could come again. 
Once he’s satisfied, his rough voice booms. “Come here.” 
You stand on two feet, your cunt is surely dripping because you feel your panties sticking to your folds. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to take you back in his mouth, not bothered one bit about the fact that you just swallowed his semen. He licks into your mouth like he’s famished, tasting himself on your tongue. Jungkook doesn’t know how he will survive without this now. 
“Lie down. On your stomach.” Even though you’ve pretty much gone as far as you can with this, you still hesitate. Maybe it's your guilt or maybe it’s because you are liking this much more than you should, that you still comply even when you shouldn’t. 
Your pillow gets left and forgotten where it currently sits and you lay down, stomach pressing into the mattress. Jungkook pats your head and you nearly purr. 
“Lift yourself up baby.” Jungkook’s so fucking hard still, he doesn’t get how this is possible. Staring at your perfect petite figure, he starts to get it. “Gonna take these off now.” 
Jungkook slowly tugs on your shorts and you shake your head, stopping him once again, your hand flies to his wrist.  “N-No.”
“Don’t make me tie your hands Noona, be good for me pretty.” And once again, Jungkook wins. You don’t see yourself winning any time soon. “Gonna undress you now, keep those precious hands away from me for now.” 
Repeating his actions from earlier, Jungkook pulls down your shorts and your ass falls right from out the lousy material. 
“Fuck.” Jungkook curses, taking in the view as you whimper softly. Your ass is even better, almost bare, your fat pussy peeks through your thin panties. He runs his finger along where your slit should be, feeling your slick dampen his fingertip over the fabric, moaning quietly. The large wet spot on your soiled panties, told him all he needed to know, you wanted this just as much as he did. 
With his index finger, he curls his finger along your waistband and brings your panties off as well and the sight doesn’t disappoint. Jungkook licks his dry lips and starts to get to work. 
The younger spreads your folds into a “V” and sticks his nose so far into your glistening cunt without warning. Jungkook starts to eat you out like never before and you crumble, moaning and squealing against the feeling of his perfect lips munching on your dripping pussy. 
The taller doesn’t let you get any further, heavy-hand on your hip while he keeps you in place. He slurps your sweet slick into his mouth, swallowing down every drop greedily without any fucking plans on stopping soon. Jungkook has found his purpose.
Jungkook was made to eat your fat juicy pussy. There wasn’t anything better than this. Not even the blowjob felt as good as this is making him feel. Jungkook knows that it has nothing to do with your skills or anything of the sort, but because he loves the way you push and pull away from him. The more you run, the more he feels like chasing. He’s addicted to the strangled sounds that escape your lips, crying out loudly against your will. It was perfect! 
You squeal when you feel him suckle on your sensitive bud, playing with it between his teeth. He’s almost tempted to bite, but he’s hurt his baby enough. “S good Noona, tastes like candy.” 
His words vibrate inside your cunt and you already feel your climax coming in heavy. He was gonna drive you insane! 
“Please… oh my god. Please. I can’t.” You swear you feel Jungkook smiling even as he’s eating you out, nose deep inside your cute little cunt. Guess that answers his question, you are definitely enjoying yourself way more than you should. 
“You can baby, you fucking will.” He nearly growls into your folds, licking and eating everything he could swallow like a madman. Jungkook didn’t wanna stop until you had nothing more to give, until your pussy stopped oozing out that sweet essence. But it seems the more he licks, the more that squirts out! 
Jungkook doesn’t mind though, not at all, not even one bit. He’ll eat your pussy until it kills him. 
“Ohhhh, nhmmm fuck. I- Daddy, I’m cominggg.” He hears your fucked out slur and sucks harder on your clit, lapping at all the juices that kept drizzling down. He’s surprised to hear you call him Daddy, he didn’t ask you to, but you were so good for him either way. Jungkook didn’t need to ask anymore, you were so far gone to care about anything else when his tongue kept slipping inside your messy hole. 
“Come on my tongue baby. Come for Daddy.” With a strangled cry you come and Jungkook feels the second you explode, because your pussy almost flushes out everything it can give him. He sucks it all up though and doesn’t stop until he feels you trembling under his touch, barely holding up. “Good, so good for me baby. God, I love you.” 
Jungkook tosses his shirt aside because he’s grown super hot and looks down at your fucked out figure. All he did was eat pussy, imagine what else he could do with that humongous monster cock he drags around. 
He didn’t fail to notice how pretty your tiny hole was from behind, both of them. Jungkook wanted to eat your ass too, but maybe that was for another time, when he gets the pleasure to focus on one at a time. 
“Turn around for me baby.” The younger one softly speaks. 
There’s a bit of a struggle, but you land on your back successfully and whine when you see his bare figure. Jungkook’s worked his ass off to get it. He’s so strong and shredded, but nonetheless, the sight of his sculpted body makes you drool nearly every time. 
“Gonna put it in now.” The way he says it throws you off, he seems a bit embarrassed, shy maybe? And it doesn’t make sense because not even seconds ago, the younger was so confident about every little thing he was doing to you, ruining you entirely for anyone else. 
“W-Wait.” You rush, pushing your hand against his chest. Jungkook freezes in place, his hand already wrapped around his cock. “Condom?” 
And like that, he snaps again, those once innocent doe-eyes turn dark again and you regret even reminding him. “We won’t be needing that silly Noona, I’m gonna fuck a baby into you and you’re gonna be the perfect Mommy. Won’t you?” 
You wanna shake your head so bad, your mind is screaming at you to say no, to fucking stop him before it’s too fucking late, but your body speaks for you. Your pussy keeps leaking your arousal and you can’t believe your reality. You want it so bad, you don’t really care what comes with the consequences of your actions. If your step-brother wants a baby, well then… 
“Isn’t that right Noona? You’ll be the perfect Mommy.” Jungkook’s voice sounds sinister and you can barely recognize the person he is. “Daddy will take care of you both. Don’t you want that? Huh my love?” 
With sick, deranged thoughts in your head, you slowly nod in agreement and Jungkook scrunches his nose into a sweet, kind smile. “Of course you do. You're the best Noona. Gonna fuck you now okay?” 
You nod again. This time, you pry your legs open for him. Letting him use you the way he wants and needs. Jungkook licks his lips and takes his heavy cock in hand. Before he lines it up, he spits perfectly along his length, coating his dick all around so it could slide in without further complications and then he pushes the tip inside. 
The minute you feel the intrusion, just the fucking tip, you gasp loudly, trembling into his surprisingly gentle touch. 
“C-Can’t. Won’t fu—fit.” You say breaking between whimpers.
Jungkook’s gaze is dark and heavy on you and he gets right into your face when he whispers the next words. “Oh but you will. You already did.” 
Just as you are about to question him, in one powerful blow, Jungkook thrusts himself all the way inside your tight velvety-walls and you run away from his hold. 
And like always, there’s no point. Before you realize it, Jungkook’s pulling out and ramming back inside you. Doesn’t even seem bothered by the painful whines coming from your lips, his eyes are too focused on the way his cock disappears into your perfect pussy. 
There was no better way to lose his virginity, Jungkook thought. This was exactly what he’s been fucking missing all his life. 
The pain simmers eventually and it starts to feel overwhelmingly good. Your pained whimpers turn into high-pitched cries and Jungkook sticks his face into your neck, moaning roughly against your ear while he continues to work his way into your walls. 
Jungkook will never, absolutely never, go back to his fists. The heat, natural slick, and tightness. His fists don’t even come close. 
Skin is clapping on skin, brutally setting a rapid pace. His dick is so sensitive right now, he’s surprised he’s even lasted this long. Jungkook doesn’t even know how fucking long it’s been. Or if your guy's parents will come home soon. He doesn’t even give a fuck. You are his. 
His to fuck. His to play with. And his to love. 
“Gonna come so deep inside this pussy. Gonna make sure you end up swollen and pregnant once I’m done with you. Noona’s so tight.” He breathes heavily into your neck, sweat dripping from the younger. 
His words start to rile you up for some reason. Do you even get a fucking choice? The dicking is almost that good you let yourself fall for a few seconds, allowing Jungkook to fuck into you like some fuck-doll. 
Without thinking, you reach for his fluff of sweaty hair and tug. Hard. When he comes up to question you, you slap him so hard that his face snaps towards that direction. 
Jungkook’s merciless pounding stills. 
For a moment, all you hear is heavy breathing, yours mixed with his. It takes Jungkook a while to look back at you and when you do dare look into his eyes, all you see is dark, dark lust. Lots of it. 
Jungkook pulls you in roughly from your throat for a bruising wet kiss. His cock slips from inside you and you whine into his mouth at the loss. You already want him back inside, you took it for granted. 
The taller chuckles dryly, almost too sexy for his own good when he catches you grinding your folds desperately against his wet length.  “Baby already misses Daddy’s dick. This is how it’s gonna be huh? Okay. I’ll play by your rules baby, don’t fucking say I didn’t warn you.”
You don’t even get the chance to catch your breath when you are already pressed face down into the mattress. Jungkook parts your fat ass, slides his cock between them and teases your sweet little hole menacingly. 
Jungkook slaps his cock down a few times, the whole nine inches, right onto your dripping folds. They practically were screaming for attention and not to worry, Daddy was home. Slick would stick to his cock, maybe he should make you lick him clean. 
“Why?” The younger one hears you crying softly. 
“We’ve been over this Noona, only I’ll ever love you how you deserve to be loved. Stop worrying so much. Want you to come on Daddy’s cock. We’ll talk after m’kay?” Jungkook reasons and stabilizes the situation like if you have any choice in this and as if this wasn’t absolutely sick. “Let me take care of you Noona.” 
The choice was made before you even realized it. 
“Okay… but don’t— don’t come inside Jungkook. I’m not on birth control.” Seojun would always make use of a condom, you forgoing those hormonal-consuming pills. You don’t get to see this, but the younger one smiles wide like if you just gave him the green light. What you don’t know doesn’t harm you. One day, Jungkook thinks. 
“Okay Noona, whatever you say.” Jungkook spits on his cock one last time before he carefully pushes back inside. The prodding feeling still leaves you in between sharp gasps and painful whines, ripping right through you. 
“Oh my god… Jungkook- too big.” You grab your closest pillow nearly tearing through the thin fabric, using it to have something to tug and bite on. 
“Yeahhh, but Noona takes it so well.” Jungkook moans when he feels you squeeze hard around him, basically watching your asshole wink at him too. “Fuck baby, maybe I should fuck this tiny hole too.” 
You whimper when you feel his thumb brushing against the fluttering muscle, back arching into the frail sensation. “Mff—no please, I’ve n-never done it. Please.”
“Okay. Not today baby.” Not today or ever again you hope. You pray that whatever is happening today starts and ends today, but for now, you settle for that answer. 
But the second Jungkook’s thumb leaves your delicate asshole, he grips onto the fat of your ass cheeks and starts mounting you from behind like an animal. The stretch still burns, not used to taking so much at once, but he can tell when it starts feeling equally as good for you because you squirm on his cock like a worm. He watches you pull away from him, but he’s gripping you hard, feeling that ass bounce back on him. Jungkook curses when he hears you start moaning into your pillows. 
“Nu-uh, wanna hear it.” He pulls you by your throat, your back flushing against his sweaty rising chest. In this position, he’s reaching deeper inside your cunt, g-spot being constantly abused. 
“Fuck-k-k, oh fuck —nghh.” Jungkook practically soaks in every noise that comes from your mouth, hips clapping hard into your ass. He takes the time to enjoy this, squeezing the fat that jiggles. Maybe he’ll convince you next time to let him fuck your tight ass. After all, he knows Noona could never say no to her sweetest dongsaeng.
The younger sucks more hickeys onto your skin, anywhere that he can really. Jungkook sucks one on the side of your neck, shoulder, and your back. He’s obsessed. Tomorrow he shall do the exact same thing, he’ll keep you on his cock forever now that he knows what it is like. Taehyung was so right. Sex was amazing. 
“Let me hear you Noona, think I’ll come just like this.” Jungkook moans roughly in your ear as he continues to pump your walls full of cock, pussy dripping buckets around his length. 
You let out moans like water, feeling his dick destroy your insides, he must have rearranged your guts by now. “Think—think m’ gonna come Daddy.” 
Jungkook smirks, grabbing your chin roughly and kisses you sloppily, including tongue and all. He loves the sound of his name and title from your pouty, gasping mouth. “Fucked you so good baby doesn’t know if she’s coming or not. Daddy’s the best, isn’t he?”
“Ye–yeah Daddy.” You slur in a trippy haze and just like that, you’re dropped into the sheets again, and flipped with ease in his hold. Jungkook’s dick surprisingly doesn’t even slip out and you don’t know if you moaned again because of the feeling of his dick impaling your pelvic walls or because he can toss you around like some rag doll and have his way with you. Daddy’s the strongest. 
Either way your moans are like sin, high pitched whimpers and incoherent mumbles coming from your plump lips like hushed prayers. “Gonna come Daddy, ‘m gonna come ‘s hard.” 
“It’s okay baby. Come on Daddy’s cock. I got you.” Jungkook goes feral when he sees the way you practically convulsate on his dick, squirting all over yourself. He’s only ever seen this on those shitty videos Taehyung sends him and he warned him that it wasn't an easy thing to do, not unless done right and when the other person is really into it. Jungkook’s flying over the moon right now knowing that he’s the reason why you can’t help, but squirt messily all over his cock. “Perfect. Noona’s perfect.”
The taller grips your thighs for support, fucking you through your intense orgasm until your inner thighs are all covered in your silky juices, being pounded into overestimation. Jungkook is really close himself and he knows nothing would compare to coming deep inside your walls, but he should respect his Noona’s wishes, at least this once. 
“Where should I come baby? Huh? Tell me.” Sweat accumulates on his forehead, dripping loads of it. Jungkook’s thighs burn from the same constant movement, practically bunny jackhammering into your pussy. He never imagined such a practice could be so tiring, he doesn’t even have to go work out tonight! 
By this point, you are in and out of consciousness. Jungkook hasn’t stopped splitting you in two, your aching everywhere, but the feeling is mind-blowing. Not even Seojun could make you feel this good, not anyone. 
You were in doubt. Jungkook had to have been experienced by the way he fucked. There’s not enough stamina to fuck the way he does. Jungkook’s a beast and he fucks like one too, using your cunt like a toy he can stick his dick into. Your pussy is stretched in ways unknown to man, perfectly molding around his cock, squeezing him in all the right ways. The more you feel his cock pressing into your pelvic floor, the more you start to realize, Jungkook belongs right here. Where he has been.
“Tell me baby. Want Daddy to come all over your pussy, give you a little facial? Tell me— fuck!” Jungkook’s pants grow hot and heavy, his orgasm approaching him hard. His cock is sensitive to the max, but he doesn’t stop, fucking you relentlessly through it all. 
Another realization hits within that moment. It’s already gone to the point of no return. You’ve sucked your baby step-brother off and let him drop his seed in your mouth. He’s kissed and licked every part of your pussy, like any good boy would. You’ve let your dongsaeng use your most intimate parts for his own personal pleasure and the worst part is you’ve actually enjoyed it all. Selfishly, you decide he’s the only one that could ever be right for you. Jungkook had been right all along, he was made for you. 
“Inside Daddy, wan— you inside.” Jungkook’s hips freeze as he hears you plead so prettily, tears streaming down your flushed face. God, he almost busts the moment he hears your honey-like voice begging for his release. “Please Daddy. Come inside muh— Noona’s pussy.” 
“Yeah, want me inside baby?” He goes back to thrusting, but this time it’s slower, more precise and spot-on, deeper. You’ve completely lost awareness of time as well and maybe a sense of who you were to him. Jungkook fucking you senseless and watching you fall deeper into the heat of haze with no remorse or regret. After this, there was no more to discuss, you were completely his. 
“Yeah— yeah wan it Daddy. Want it.” Jungkook happily complies, knowing you would come around if he just fucked you good enough to forget that you were off that horrid pill and that he could plant his ssed in your fertile little pussy and give you his child to bear. 
His brows furrow as he concentrates on the mess between your legs, it’s beautiful and all his fucking fault. He wants to bury his head into it, but first, he’ll come deep inside that swollen pussy and finish you off. Jungkook takes a moment to adjust and starts jackhammering your cunt again, this time his only purpose is to plant his seed as deep as it can go, claiming even the most sacred parts. Birth control be fucked! 
Jungkook’s thrust grow sloppy by the minute and you don’t know how much longer you can take until he’s fucked you completely faint. Mouth starting to feel parched, Jungkook attaches his lips to yours, kissing you through rough strokes. He devours your lips like honey and feels you start to clench around him again. He feels a little gash of juices trinkle along his slit and Jungkook realizes he’s made you come again by the way your walls clench around his cock. 
“Fuck baby, Daddy’s gonna come inside now.” All you can do is nod between blacking out, not wanting to waste his precious, healthy come. 
With one last growl, Jungkook’s coming deep. The last thing you remember is the heavy weight of Jungkook’s cock twitching and releasing the milky substance across your plushy warm inviting walls.
—-
“Hey honey, how was work today?” Your voice is soft and light as petals while you watch the food come to a boil on the stove, whisking it around and adding a bit more salt for taste while you wait for your husband’s response.
“Fine baby. Had a long meeting with one of our staff members about missing numbers, but the problem was taken care of.” Your husband’s voice is manly and smooth all around, almost husky-like. He goes to kiss your delicate cheek, watching your eyes flutter as he wraps hulky arms around you, bringing your back flush to his front. “Hope you haven’t been on your feet all day, my love. You should be resting, my love.”
You smile at your caring husband, enjoying his musky scent and broad body. “Of course not babe, I’m almost done with the stew. Help me grab a bowl?” 
“Mm.” Your husband hums and retreats to grab a bowl from a cabinet that is far too high for your reach with a quick pat to your ass, giving it a quick squeeze. “This one okay baby?” 
“Yeah!” 
The taller comes back with the empty bowl and you are quick to serve the steamy stew into the dish, always making sure your husband comes home to a warm homemade meal after his long days at work. He watches you from afar admiring the beauty and power his precious wife holds. 
You barely had time to pamper yourself today, but you managed to clean up well. Your hair was in a beautiful half-up half-down pony with the cutest white bow attached. Your makeup was perfect, a little bit of everything to fix the small imperfections you saw in the mirror earlier. And the most perfect little flowy dress with flowers decorating the material to fit your current body shape. You were absolutely perfect. An angel drawn to Earth. 
“You’re so beautiful baby.” Jungkook whispers into your ear, tickling your neck with his cool breath. “Smell so good.” 
“That’s the food.” You both laugh a bit, a hand cupping your swollen stomach pressing himself against your back-end yet again. The feeling was alike anything. He was starting a whole new life alongside the center of his entire world. Jungkook was the happiest he could ever be. 
“Nu-uh, that’s all you. Although, the food does smell impeccable. My tastebuds are craving for something else. Can’t wait to eat you—”
“Stop!” Jungkook laughs as you wack his hands away from your belly and continue to serve his bowl full. 
“Okay, okay.” Jungkook takes his bowl and waits for you at the dining table, you follow closely behind and sit beside him. “Thank you, Noona.”
You don’t get to hear that word often these days, mainly because it reminds you both of your previous relationship, but the younger one lets it slip from time-to-time, still as sweet as before, always by your side and doing his absolute best to please and look after you and the new addition. 
Coming from a broken family, Jungkook never imagined a life could be so simple and beautiful. Lately, Jungkook’s life is like a movie. He can’t believe this all belongs to him, what more can a man ask for. He has the kindest, most beautiful wife and she bears his healthy infant in her huge pregnant tummy. He owns a huge house, working his ass off to get it and established himself pretty early in his career, buying his wife only the best of things. Jungkook settled only for the best and he found that besides you, a true happily ever after, if you will. 
The rest is simply history, unimportant through your eyes. The only thing that mattered now is that you were both happy and extremely loved. 
The end!
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whoops
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kooberist · 2 months
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. . . . ⋆.˚ when i see you cry it makes me smile~ ♪ 𔓘
nerd!jungkook x crush!reader
non con, sadistic jk, crying, mentally ill jk? jimin being the devil on jks shoulder
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His lips purred into a smile so wide that they parted and his eyes squinted, teeth showing. His smile was almost angelic, as if he held a secret that could brighten the darkest of days.
Your face did the opposite. Lips quivering as tears overflowed your waterline and made your eyelashes all soggy and your eyebrows all furrowed.
This was all going on at the same time. Jungkook was smiling because you were crying, something he found inexplicably joyful.
Why? Why did he find joy in your tears?
Jungkook's heart beated for you, and his lungs expanded just for you. He felt euphoric when he saw you, but all of it came to a halt like a cog was missing in a clock.
"Would you like to be friends?" Jungkook studied; he knew he wanted to be more, but this was a baby step in the right direction. A sour expression crept on your face as you heard his question. "no thanks." Your words cut through his heart like he was in a slasher movie, leaving him feeling rejected and hurt, but one more thing consumed him: hate.
Jungkook sat on his best friends' beds as he contemplated how to deal with this new emotion. "You want to fuck her, right?" Jimin asked with a smile. Jungkook shyly nodded, and that's when Jimin said what Jungkook secretly had in the back of his brain. "Then rape her." He stated that it was a simple task. With a little help from his friend, he found a light in the tunnel at the end, and that was revenge. He had no choice.
Browsing through the campus library, trying to scurry as the clock almost reached the closing hour and the dim place slowly got empty, nobody left except you and the young pink-haired person at the desk down on the bottom floor. Fastly looking through the big books in the empty, dark island, a boy in a big black hoodie tapped your shoulder.
"Would you like help?" His voice was soft and calm. You shear your head no and go back to searching and he felt like a genius as his prediction to your reaction was spot on
He tapped your clothed shoulder again, and when you turned around, his hand that was once on your shoulder flew to your neck in a tight grip.
He felt ecstatic as you gasped for air and your face shifted to fear and panic.
"Im sorry." He lifted you off your feet with ease while his free hand undid his belt in a swift motion along with your skirt, and your mind raced, desperately searching for a way to escape his grasp. The room seemed to spin as you struggled to break free, your heart pounding in your chest.
Pants dropping along with his boxers. He groans as he strokes his throbbing cock about twice before sticking it in your wet heat with a soft and quiet moan..
"Ah, fuck," he groans. Was he really losing his virginity to rape right now? He told himself it was your fault in low groans as he thrust in and out. Tears are now streaming down your face, and moans of pain are escaping your mouth loudly. His fat cock thrusting in and out as his legs shook and his forehead met his, and sweat beamed down his forehead. Pre-cum and slick juices mixed together, creating a slippery sensation. The room filled with a mix of desperation and pleasure as he continued to move with increasing intensity.
"help" You cried out in a raspy voice. The intensity of the situation weighed heavily on your mind as you desperately pleaded for help, hoping someone would hear your cries. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as you struggled to comprehend how this could be happening to you.
"Sorry," he said in repeated whispers, but when you started to ugly cry, his guilt flew right down to his dick, making him on the brink of orgasm. His legs are shaking due to the sound of your moan-ish cries.
The knot breaks the rope in your stomach as you cum all over his cock in an extremely loud cry. The sweet music in Jungkook's ears echos through the big library, and you grow limp in his hand. His hips speed up at an inhumane pace, and his cum fills up your womb as his eyes shutter and his hand lets go of your neck, causing your energy-less body to fall to the rough carpeted floor of the isle full of books.
His lips purred into a smile so wide that they parted and his eyes squinted, teeth showing. His smile was almost angelic, as if he held a secret that could brighten the darkest of days.
Your face did the opposite. Lips quivering as tears overflowed your waterline and made your eyelashes all soggy and your eyebrows all furrowed. Sitting in the chair of an office and trauma comes back as you retell the traumatic memory. Jungkook innocently smiles as he knows you are just crying at the memory of what he did while he peeks through the glass window of the dim office.
Maybe you will think twice about being an asshole next time.
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©kooberist 2024
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fruitiws · 6 months
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ִ ۫ ⭒ 𐙚 𖠋 𓈒 𝆬⠀ج⠀ ✽⠀⠀ᩧ⠀𐑺 ⣷
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imsadstuff · 8 months
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jungkook is a MENACE
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kookieats · 1 year
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don’t forget to like if you saved. xoxo.
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kimtaegis · 2 years
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me, myself & my corn ice cream
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sailoryooons · 1 year
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Carved | Four | jjk (m)
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→ Summary: Hundreds of years after the Underworld wins the war, Vaesen - demon kind - rule the Realms. The Vanir - creatures of light and the Heavens - are hunted and enslaved by Vaesen. When the demon prince Jungkook is given one of the Carved - angels who have been stripped of their wings - he has no idea what to do with you. You, however, have plans you are determined to see through. Even if it means death in the end.
→ Pairing: demon!Jungkook x angel!female reader
→ Rating: NSFW & 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging with this content. Any minors discovered interacting with adult content will be blocked immediately.
→ Type: Series
→ Genre: dystopian, urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, angst
→ Pairing: 8,254
→ Warnings: Graphic depiction of violence and fighting, graphic depiction of death and gore, depictions of death (including, but not describing the death of a child and family members), semi-complex fight scenes, mentions of manipulation and power imbalance, reader purposefully seducing Jungkook to get what she wants, mentions of something similar to subspace and reader taking advance of Jungkook in a subspace like state mentally, explicit language, power imbalances and mentions of enslaved creatures, Jungkook and reader get a little violent with one another but like.. in a pleasure able way so here we go for the sexually explicit warnings, reader goading Jungkook, unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, Jungkook kinda gets right too it, rough, slapping and biting, Jungkook being pretty rough and slamming reader around and shoving her into things, vulnerable mental states and manipulation, mild dirty talk tbh this sex scene is incredibly mild in terms of what I usually do, ummm I don't know guys it's a dark urban fantasy with weird shit, unedited should be a warning because I did a grammarly check and nothing else oops. ALSO PLS KEEP IN MIND THIS SEX SCENE IS BLAND BECAUSE OF THE SPECIFIC SCENARIO THEY ARE IN. I ASSURE YOU MUCH MORE DETAILED AND EXPLICIT SMUT IS IN THE FUTURE, BUT IT WASNT THE VIBE HERE
→ Main Masterlist: here
→ Series Masterlist: here
→ faq 
A/N: IT'S FINALLY HERE. Sorry this was so delayed. I was dealing with writers block pretty severely, work has been really crazy and demanding, I've been really tired and also my mentally manipulative ex-boyfriend decided to unalive himself so that was a weird week, I was trying to find new apartments and yeah this chapter has been re-written at least 5 times. Also I apologize I said fuck it we ball and this is absolutely only edited with a grammarly check. I will edit in full tomorrow but I do not have the brain capacity to do it right now, she is Tapped Out but I promised I would post this mf chapter tonight. Does any one have any theories as to what's going on yet teehee.
©2022 haliiimede. all rights reserved. Reposting and/or translating is not allowed, even if you credit the story. Works are only crossposted on AO3. Find my AO3 here.
Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgement or representation of real life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. BTS is not BTS culturally, intellectually, physically or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.
/ PREVIOUS / NEXT CHAPTER /
Screams split the air. For a second, you hesitate, turning to the source of the chaos. It erupts beyond the door, startling several Vaesen inside of the room. You react first, shooting toward the door with Taehyung and Jungkook on your heels.
The sound that greets you is a symphony of shattering glass, surprised screams and varying degrees of carnage. A table flips in front of you as you enter the main ballroom. You sidestep it easily as it fractures against Taehyung, who hardly flinches before vanishing into the surging crowd of running and swarming Vaesen and Vanir.
With careful movements, you slid out of your heels, feet pressing against broken glass. It doesn’t bite or cut your skin – only real weapons can do that – but it’s uncomfortable as you take a defensive stance, aware how vulnerable you are in a tiny, sheer dress and no weapon.
Blood-slicked floors greet you. The screams of the Vaesen make your lips twitch upward slightly. Chaos has erupted in a tableau of overturned tables, shattered champagne glasses, pearl-draped demons hiding behind fractured, round tables, and a dark, wet hissing sound.
Whatever creatures have entered the room smell wrong, like honey gone sour or sweet cream curdled. Your eyes sweep the painting of chaos before you.
And then you see them.
Your heart stills for one painfully long second, stretched like skin pulled too tight over bone. They’re… seraphim but not.
The creatures have dark, pitted eyes with black veins rippling over sallow skin. They’re naked and feature no distinct gender, appearing stitched together. Their ribs are prominent and you’re unsure if it’s by design or emaciation. There are mismatched wings on their bodies, opening and closing uncontrollably at awkward intervals and angles like they don’t know how to use them - or maybe can’t.
A creature lets out a screech and cuts a vampire lord in half, blood spraying the wall like watercolor on canvas. There is a dozen of them, and they all have swords, crudely shaped but you can almost taste the adamas in the swords.
Fucking hells. They have swords of Heaven.
Jungkook appears at your side, dark eyes scanning the room as the Not-Seraphim spread throughout, cutting through screaming party goers who are unarmed beyond their own fangs and teeth. You can scent gore in the air and your blood hums: it smells like a killing pitch.
“Reaper.” Jungkook says the name like a command. The name is both yours and not yours. It is one of many names. One of many people you are. His voice slithers down your back, eliciting a shiver. He holds out a dagger. Reaper is the person Jungkook needs you to be. “Find my niece.”
You take the dagger and come alive. The hellstone throbs in your hand, metal carved from the deepest pits of the underworld and forged in hellfire. You tighten your grip and move forward.
One step and you’re in front of one of the Not Angels. It cocks it’s head and pauses, a series of clicks slipping through black, jagged teeth and a weeping mouth.  
A second step and death follows you.
Flesh burns. It singes your nose, something like spoiled flesh and rotten eggs. You can taste the sulfur as the creature wilts to the floor, body still twitching after decapitation. You bend over, snatching up the poorly made sword. It’s sharp enough, but the handle is crude and the blade is splotchy, mixed with many metals.
It hums in your hand, a pulse of power crawling through your palm and fingers like an electric current. You recognize the feel of adamas, a metal only found in Heaven realms deep in cloud-ringed mountains. For a moment your mind drifts, suspended between memory and imagination. You can almost see it: tangerine pink skies, the smell of orange blossoms, wind that is neither cold nor warm.
A creature lunges at you and the dream melts away. You duck under the blow, striking out with the dagger. It plunges to the hilt, a wet crack sounding as you puncture its ribcage. It screams and spittle flies. It doesn’t react to the knife, clawing toward you and opening a split maw of blood and black.
Cringing backward, you push with the dagger, shoving the creature away to provide space for the swing of your sword. The head severs, hitting the ground with a thud before rolling away. The body jerks, remaining vertical for a moment. Ripping your knife out, you send the lifeless body to the ground where it remains dead.
Interesting.
Another creature replaces the felled one, no weapon in hand but claws raking out at you. You shuffle backward, ducking away from the swiping talons. The creature flaps its wings once – the only one with functional wings, it seems – and surges forward, catching you off guard.
It knocks into you with the weight of a brick wall. The air leaves your lungs and you go down with the creature, it’s talons catching the flesh on your right bicep. You scream at the burn and fuck it burns. You look at where your skin burns black and wilted in three, jagged lines.
A blue-sparked flame catches your attention on the creature’s hands as it gnashes at you. You grab it around the throat, keeping razor teeth away from your face as drool and something else drips on your face. Your eyes zero in on the flame that comes and goes like it can’t control the heat on the tips of its fingers.
Hellfire, you realize.
Your mind expands, a searching radar for Jungkook. You sense him immediately, his mind like mist and rain tinged with hatred. His emotions are in turmoil, a churning storm of icy rain that bites into your thoughts and razor-sharp wind. There is a sense of no control, Jungkook’s churning storm ripping through his energies with something like feral-laced panic on the edges.
Jungkook, you call to him, feeding him your emotions as you shove back at the gnashing teeth of the creature pinning you down. He ignores you, his storm too volatile to sense you. You push harder, imagining that you’re brushing cool water down the bridge of your connection.
Jungkook flinches when he feels you. The storm pauses, like passing into the eye as the chaos settles around him. You use the opportunity to speak again. They can use Hellfire.
It takes a moment for him to respond. Understood.
Pulling away from the connection, you keep your minds tethered. The crackling energy and harsh storm stirs again when you pull from his mind, but it’s not as out of control as before, the thread between you an anchor as he refocuses on his own task.
Lightning crackles under your fingers as you shove with your hand, putting all your force into where you push back on the monster above you. The creature topples backward as you roll to your feet, movement fluid. Your dress is ripping near the throat, threatening to tear. You curse, begging the fabric to stay on a little longer.
You have no intention of fighting while spilling out of your dress.
Electricity charges in the room. Unchoked, you feel the thunder of your power looming on the horizon. Every time you call the lightning to you feels like a rush of adrenaline, the sparks dancing along every nerve of your body, lighting you up from the inside out.
This is your power. There is a moment where you consider letting it all go. You could supernova right where you stand, destroying everything within several miles. You know you have the capability – it's something you’ve dreamed of doing for years.
But it’s just a dream, and your dreams do not align with your goal.
Reigning in the urge to destroy destroy destroy, you instead focus the lightning on the creatures closest to you. The bolts let out a loud crack as you direct the energy to your targets. There is a flash and the smell of burnt skin and corpse, but you ignore it, pushing toward a forming group in the corner of the ballroom.
There is a concentration of fighting Vaesen, screaming and creatures near where you remember seeing Jungkook’s niece last. A body topples in front of you, and you step over it- later you will remember that it was a collared Vanir, naked and still tied to a chair on its leash.
You see Jihoon– he's covered in something black and slick, kicking out at one of the creatures. He has a single dagger in his hand, a retinue of guards dead at his feet, and you can hear the high-pitched scream of his daughter behind him. A single step in their direction is blocked by more creatures, hissing and clicking at you.
Jungkook appears at your side, covered in gore. His hands are black to the wrist, dripping in... something. You realize he’s fighting without a weapon.
“Are you ripping through them?”
“I gave you my knife,” he snaps. His mind brushes against yours, a torrent of chaos and loud noises and anger so hot you waver. You toss the dagger to him, spinning your new sword in your hand. “I think beheading them is the only thing that works.”
“Yeah, I discovered that thanks.”
A vampire gets turned to mist and splatter in front of you. You feel the hot blood hit your face. It smells metallic and like Synth from his last meal.
“Can you-”
You see it in his mind. The lightning that you can summon to destroy worlds. You nod once, summing the crackling energy inside of you.
A high-pitched scream interrupts you. Your eyes zero in on Kita, hiding under a table as her mother pulls the girl tight against her chest, baring her teeth. There's a red aura around her as she snaps her teeth at one of the creatures, a red arch of fire snapping out.
Fox fire.
Kita tries to imitate her mother, crying through barred teeth and a tiny flicker of flame humming around her. There are creatures closing in and you feel the snap of your power, targeting the creatures in a large area.
Power ripples in the room. You feel the urge to kill kill kill again. To destroy. To light the entire room up and burn it all down. You’ve done it before. You know the taste and smell of annihilation. You know the feeling of death brushing past you as he collects his dead.
The crack of a whip. A scream of agony. Blood in your mouth your hands your ears your neck, your arms-
You push away the desire to rebel. It burns bright, a hot coal ready to catch fire but you smother it. Pretend it isn’t there.
Rising up at the wrong time does nothing. Freeing yourself a long game. Giving in to your rage means failure, and you have failed and failed and failed and failed and -
The room flashes bright. Colors dance behind your eyes as you let go of the power. For a moment, everything is silent. The world is warped, the sulfur air charged with electricity. You feel the static tickle the nap of your neck, your arms, your mind.
You look around. There are no more creatures standing, black wisps of smoke curling toward a scorched ceiling. Dust motes float down. You stick out a hand, finger pointed as one lands on your finger. You realize it’s soot, the leftovers from the creatures you’ve thoroughly crisped.
Around the room, life – or what’s left of it – begins to stir. Glass crunches beneath feet and the sound of tables being righted sounds booming in the silence of destruction.
Jungkook and Ji-Hoon are on their knees, ducked under the table as they coax Kita and her mother from their hiding spot.
You assess the damage, eyes scanning the room and catching on golden collars. Diamonds resting on the hollow of still throats. Snapped gossamer wings under a broken body. A platinum leash tangled in a chair, its nymph counterpart missing her lower half.
There are more Vanir than Vaesen among the dead. Caught up in leashes and collars. Stuck in a brass birdcage. Shackled to a table. Your stomach turns but you don’t focus on the faces. Committing them to memory makes them mean something and nothing means anything to you.
“Reaper.” Jungkook’s voices radiates the space between you and the space unseen, echoing in your mind. You turn to look at him. He has a firm grip on Kita, the child pressed to his side as Ji-Hoon argues with his wife silently. “We are escorting them out.”
“We’re with you.” The oily voice makes you stiffen. You don’t have to turn to see Taehyung among the aftermath. You do see the kitsune lingering off to the side, his dark eyes flickering from the ashes to you. “Both of us.”
Jungkook bows his head. “They were concentrated around Ji-Hoon and none of his men remain. It’s safe to assume he’s a target. Reaper and Yoongi with Kita and Daiyu. Taehyung with us.”
Taehyung moves past you, no longer interested in teasing you. Jungkook presses close to his brother and you press Kita and Daiyu between you and Yoongi. The huli jing looks at you skeptically, holding her daughter’s hand fiercely. You don’t give it much thought, following Jungkook’s lead as he leads your group through a service entrance.
It smells like sulfur and rot. Damp air clings to your skin, forming a sticky second layer. You grimace. The clack of dress shoes is loud against the tile floors. The hall is too narrow for you to walk in groups, meant for only a few Vanir to come and go at a time. You move quickly in single file line, Yoongi at the front with Kita and Daiyu between you.
Jungkook’s mind waivers on the edge of yours. You can feel that he’s aware of you, as though he is turning over his should to see if you’re still there. You can’t see him from the back of the line, but he doesn’t severe the connection.
Probably don’t know how.
Servant corridors are long and complicated. When Jungkook approaches a split, he takes one hall over another confidently. You peek into his mind, seeing the flash of blueprints and memory of a layout on a screen.
You know the layout of the servant halls, you observe. Down your connection, you sense him flinching. You knew you would be attacked?
No. His voice is curt. His mind is a dark storm, words cutting through hissing rain. But we are always prepared. It’s not often that someone tries to assassinate us, but...
But what?
Focus on your task.
Your lips twitch and you feel him draw away from you a bit. But what? You wonder. He was hiding something and that just wouldn’t do. Cutting into his mind would be as easy as clipping the wings of a butterfly. But you leave Jungkook alone for now, following the dark hall, Taehyung and Jihoon’s hushed voices drifting toward you.
A small door in the hall, nearly invisible leads to a tunnel. You can still see flitting images and thoughts across Jungkook’s memory. He has no control to his thoughts, no way to block you out. He is unaware of the danger you present to his mind, laid open for the taking.
And yet you don’t.
The ground slopes beneath your feet. Your press your fingers on the wall, casting your senses. There’s damp, empty air on the other side of the wall and you can hear the hush of slow floating water. Above you, the ceiling vibrates. You’re in a tunnel in the sewers.
Your eyes drift to Jungkook. He was trained in escape routes in the building. And seemed to be one of the few Vaesen armed at the party.
Unarmed Vaesen. The thought leads you somewhere between pleasure and contempt. Only the creatures of the Underworlds could be so arrogant as to think they have nothing to fear. In a way, they don’t. Demons and their kind are the apex predators, the top of the food chain.
But even among themselves, enemies lurk.
The sheer stupidity is comforting – the knowledge that it comes at the expense of how little of a threat Vanir pose, is not.
A cool awareness brushes against the nape of your neck. You pause, the echoes of shoes and Kita sniffing silently ahead reverberating off the walls. Your instinct flickers and you turn your head a fraction, angling your ear toward the way you came.
Silence stretches and stretches. You frown, stretching out the net of your mind. It’s a strange feeling, opening that barrier and sense of other. It’s not a psychic ability as much as it is sensing energy, magic, and existence, something many Vanier and Vaesen alike can do.
At first, there is nothing but empty space. Ahead of you, your group pushes on. They don’t notice that you’ve stopped entirely, head cocked and tense.
Then you hear it – or at least perceive it. A soft hiss, the smell of death.
They’re here, you hiss down the tether between you and Jungkook. You feel his surprise and then his anger as you turn to face the back of the tunnel. Keep going and let me know when you’re out of the tunnel. If I light up in here, you’re going down too.
Good to know you care.
You scoff. I still have use for you, Dominus.
Something like irritation and resentment slithers down the connection from Jungkook. It makes you smirk, pleased at offering opposition. It’s been a long time since you could openly oppose someone the way you now can. It’s a risk, but it’s a calculated one.
Sometimes you must let the monster in to give it a sense of comfort. You remember the lesson. You think about the Vaesen who so easily move about the world without weapons.
Yes, letting Jungkook see parts of you is necessary. Dangerous, but ultimately worth it.
Shuffling, stilted movements echo toward you. Sliding your feet apart and bent slightly at the knee, you wait in a defensive stance. You leave the connection to Jungkook open. As you wait for the creatures to reach you, you periodically drift to observe Jungkook and the others. They’re making quick work rushing through a network of tunnels, moving faster now that there is a threat.
Lightning will do you no good in an enclosed space. While you won’t kill yourself, the walls of the tunnel are reinforced with metal rods and bracketing, a perfect conduit for electricity. With the running water crisscrossing in the sewer system just behind, you’re positive you’ll light up half of the underground network if you try it.
So you wait. Sword in your hand. Poised.
The first creature slides into your line of sight. The corridor is dark and without light, the shapes of the bent wings in a small space almost comical. They cannot move more than one at a time, a single file line of twisted limbs and rotten smell.
It sees you and pauses. There are soft clicks, the sounds bouncing back and forth. You frown, watching as they all stop moving, the clicks drifting between them at different intervals and cadences like… a language.
They’re speaking.
Whatever they are, they have some sort of intelligence. The humanoid shapes are all wrong, but you can vaguely sense something thrumming inside of them that is both like you and not. Your stomach flips at the implication that you can sense the creatures the way you sense Jungkook stopped at a fork in the tunnels, unsure of which way to go.
The clicking stops. You turn your attention away from Jungkook, narrowing that feed of awareness tied to him to the barest thread. For a moment, you and the first creature stare at one another. The next moment, it’s charging forward faster than you expect.
You duck as the creature slams into you. The breath leaves your lungs, feeling as though you’d been hit with the force of a thick wall, but you push up with your back as the creature topples over you, sending it sprawling. Your sword hand is fast, flicking in an arch to sever the head as the creature stumbles to regain balance.
The narrow space immediately becomes a problem. The next creature is on you, teeth snapping hungrily as you back up, stepping and slipping slightly on the ichor leaking from the dead body beneath your feet. There’s no room to swing your sword, so you’re forced to twitch the blade back and forth, parrying sharp stabs from your assailant.
Just like the creatures in the ballroom, these are uncoordinated. Their stabs aren’t fast enough, joints cracking and twisting awkwardly in lurching motions as they attack. Cutting through them is difficult in the lack of space. They press in on you, making you track backward to give yourself more room to fight. It’s not ideal – you’re leading them toward where Jungkook and the others have started moving again.
“Fuck,” you snarl, tasting foul ichor on your tongue as it sprays you from a sharp wound on the neck of one of them. It bellows and claws forward.
Summoning air in the tunnel you thrust a hand out, punching toward them with wind. It rips through the halls, whistling as the air rushes past you in violent torrents. It slams into creatures, propelling them backward.
While they’re crumpled and disorganized in a pile, you take ground back, advancing on them. They clamor over one another, shrieking and twitching their wings as they regain a sense of control. You summon wind again, ready to send another blast when a raw scream rips down your mental tether with Jungkook.
It’s violent and invasive, prying open your connection and funneling unfiltered pain and wrath into your own mind. Your vision goes white for a second as the emotional tidal wave of Jungkook overwhelms you, unexpected and uncontrolled.
A spark of blue is the only warning you get from one of the hellish creatures. You barely react in time, summoning wind again at a greater force. It screams toward you, quick enough to meet the blue flame of Hellfire as it fills the hallway.
Heat scorches against air. You scream in alarm. For a moment, you think your makeshift airwall won’t be enough to keep you from being turned to soot.
It holds, a steady wind current coming down the tunnel. Dust, dirt, and mice get picked up in your vacuum, spinning and slamming into the solid, opaque wall of air. You keep your energy focused on the wind as much as you can, Jungkook’s mental screaming almost too much of a distraction as you try and close the mental door between the two of you.
But Jungkook is untrained and the son of Sariel. His connection to you is strong and whatever he’s experiencing on the other side of the tunnel system is a deeper well than you knew he was capable of.
Gritting your teeth, you dig down into your well of power. It’s always there, a bottomless pit of energy and ability to use your gifts. Some witches call it magic. Faeries call it glamour. Angels call it grace and there is a spark of it there, tiny and imperfect, but enough for you to sustain the wind and shut the door on Jungkook just enough.
Snippets rush by you. They’re at the mouth of an entrance somewhere – almost out of the tunnel system. But they’re fighting – you sense more creatures and… others. Demons. Jungkook’s rage is a storm, battering down on your connection to him and exploding out of him as he fights.
Get out of the tunnels, you demand. Jungkook I need you to at least get out of the tunnels.
There is no acknowledgment that he’s heard you. There’s only screaming wind, the song of his fury, and heat building up on the other side of your wall. You smell molten metal and realize the creatures are going to bring everything down.
Jungkook, you scream at him. There is nothing on the other side, just anger threatening to swallow him whole. Jungkook!
Nothing.
Gritting your teeth, you shift a few steps back. You take a deep breath, feeling the heat on the other side of your air wall, and you shove hard through your mental tether. You feel Jungkook’s awareness, fire and rain. He feels you now.
Get out the fucking tunnel or I will kill all of you. This is your last warning.
And it is. Jungkook is useful. Using him is easier than the alternative, and having to come up with an additional plan after killing him while trying to escape the city is far too complicated, and near the realm of impossibility.
Sweat begins to form on your hairline. You feel the slick on your legs and your palms, the air over-warm. It continues to get hotter and hotter, kicking up several notches. Azure swims on the other side of the air you feed into your protect. It flares, growing stronger off the oxygen you provide it, but you have no other choice.
Silver drips from the ceiling. You look up, spotting liquified metal oozing through the earth’s ceiling.
Go. Jungkook’s voice is nearly a whisper. You realize you’re screaming with the force of the power you’re feeding into your wind. His words are like a release, a flip switching as you dive headfirst into the electric current of your lightning.
It’s an explosion. Heat and electricity meet in a caustic battle, the walls and floor rumbling as your lightning pulses from you more like a wave than bolts. You hear the crack, feel it vibrate your ears, and then there is only loud ringing as you stumble backward.
Dust, ash, and metal fill the air. You’ve brought down half the tunnel and you’re splayed on your ass.
Rolling over on your stomach, you try and push yourself to your feet. You slide in dirt and darkness. It’s difficult to breathe, the air filled with static and heated enough that your skin feels like you’re on fire. You manage to find footing and retreat towards where Jungkook and the others have gone.
Nothing follows you.
The high-pitched ringing does not leave you. A bit dizzy, you follow the thread of Jungkook’s existence, feeling the thread between you pull you toward him. His rage has turned to agony, and you know someone is dead, though you cannot discern who.
When you finally reach the surface, you understand.
There are masked Vaesen littered around an empty warehouse. You’re close to the Celadon River, the taste of salt in the air as it filters in from the sea. You cannot hear beyond the scream of your damaged ears, but the wind here is cool, coming in through a giant hole in the ceiling, freshly singed.
Similar creatures that hunted you into the halls lay in pieces. Jungkook stands expressionless, ringed by bodies. It seems the fight was centered on him, death laying quietly at his feet. Yoongi and Taehyung stand a few feet away, expressionless. Watching.
A single shaft of moonlight shines on Jungkook through the broken ceiling. It paints half of his face silver, his eye rimmed silver. The rest of his face in shadow. It’s an eerie picture, half of him light and dark, split between two worlds. A child slithers down your spine as your eyes drift away from the thunder in his expression to his feet, where his eyes are fixed and you see the source of his unending agony.
Jihoon and his family are no more.
-
Namjoon is the only other person at the apartment. You eye him warily as he stands in the living room, arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches the holoscreen. Images of the party flash on the screen. There are videos from security cameras, starlets filming the chaos while at the party, and media drones outside of the building as the police force descended on the scene.
Reporters stand in the carnage. There are still broken bodies of Vanir, stepped over as the reporters lead their filming drones through the rooms. You can see Vanir tied to leashes on chairs. Again, you don’t look at their faces.
After appearing from the tunnel to find Jihoon and his family dead, you were ushered home immediately. You went without negotiation, casting a single look at Jungkook. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, his expression flitting between exquisite pain and nothingness.
Sensing your presence, Namjoon turns his head a fraction to look at you. His eyes harden and his jaw flexes, onyx eyes not leaving you for a second. You remember your perceived place with him, casting your eyes to the screen to ignore the way he burns holes through you with just a look.
“Go away,” he grunts. “Your presence is bothersome.”
“I’m sorry, dominus.” You make your voice light and airy. “Why has master not come home with me?”
Calling Jungkook master burns your tongue. You make yourself look small, tucking your chin to your chest and curving your shoulders inward, like you’re bracing to be hit. You play with the hem of your shirt, which is too big like the rest of your clothes.
Namjoon scoffs, not buying it. “Because he has to deal with this fucking mess.”
“I should be with master- “
“Drop the act. Whatever you are, it isn’t Carved. If Jungkook wants to keep you and do whatever he wants with you, that’s fine.” You glance up at him. He stares you dead in the eye. “But I don’t like you and I don’t trust you. Stay in your lane, I’ll stay in mine.”
Namjoon leaves the room, the holoscreen casting blue light on the empty space. You listen to him go. He goes to his own room at the far end of the apartment and shuts the door loudly.
“Dick,” you mutter, entering the living room proper to look up at the screen.
The sound is muted, only showing the chaos. “Elide, volume on.”
“State access name,” the apartment system responds, voice cool and clear. You recite your name. “Unregistered user.”
You snarl. “Elide, volume on.”
“State access name.”
“Jungkook.”
“Voice recognition failure.”
“Just turn the fucking volume on!”
The elevator door opens behind you. You whirl on your heel, teeth bared in frustration. Jungkook walks through the door, barely sparing you a glance as he says, “Stop yelling at the technology. I didn’t program you into the system.”
“I noticed.” He walks into the kitchen, tapping the corner of a cabinet. It unlocks and pops open, revealing shelves of liquor. He removes a bottle and taps the cabinet shut. “Didn’t think you needed it.”
“Well if you’d like me to get bored and burn the apartment down, that is an option.”
“Be my guest. I have others.”
“Humble.”
Dark rage hums under the surface. Jungkook moves around his kitchen slowly. He places a glass delicately on the counter, pulling the cork from the bottle before pouring himself amber liquid. You sniff. Whiskey of some sort.
Jungkook is silent, but his mind is a torrent of emotions. Blood pounds beneath the surface, a beast begging to escape. You can almost taste the chaos within him and yet… he keeps it there. Sipping his drink and leaning on the counter as he looks at the floor.
“Namjoon thinks I should kill you,” Jungkook mentions.
“Unsurprising.”
“Yoongi does too.”
You shrug. “The way of the fox is unknown to me.”
Jungkook’s mind is wide open. You reach for it while he sips his whiskey. He doesn’t register as you brush against his thoughts, trying to sort through them. His mental is in chaos, thoughts racing through his head and flashes of his brother being cut down. Of Kita’s screaming.
“Do you know what those things were?”
You picture the creatures at the party. Their staggered steps, their rotting breath. “Something made, not born.”
“What does that mean?”
“That means I’ve seen a lot of creatures for the hundreds of years that I have been alive, but I’ve never seen whatever those were. Those things are not natural.”
“Most of what is in this world isn’t natural.”
“They are not natural to any plane. I felt…” You trail off and shrug your shoulders.
Navigating his mind while it’s in chaos is hard. You’re looking for the thread of conversation from earlier that night, trying to understand what Jungkook had been talking about when he trailed off about being prepared for assassination attempts. But it’s convoluted and murky.
Jungkook glances up at you. His face is a mask. You must admit you’re impressed by the way he looks calm and collected with the storm raging inside of him, threatening to crack the façade at any moment. “Felt what?”
“You didn’t feel them? Like the way you feel me?”
“Are you telling me you’re one of- “
“No,” you cut him off. “Not in the sense of they are me. But you couldn’t feel them like… dots on a radar. Little signatures of something?” He shakes his head. You hum for a moment, letting the silence hang in the air before you say, “Your untrained mind nearly got me killed.”
A ripple of anger goes through him and his thoughts become more confusing. You sense him boiling under the surface, a steady tremor building and building and building.
A frenzy. Jungkook is nearing a frenzy. If you could get him to fall into it…. you examine him. Coming down from a frenzy would put him in a state of compliance and exhaustion, making his mind open to sift through like forgotten paperwork.
You decide to incense him.
 “I mean it,” you snap when he doesn’t answer you. You square your shoulders and let your power drop into the room. “Your level of incompetence is worse than seraphim children. Total lack of discipline and an embarrassment to someone who was sired by Sariel.”
A flip switches.
Jungkook is pushing off the counter and moving toward you but you stand your ground, chin lifted, gaze cutting. His mask has slipped a fraction, lip curled. “What did you just say?”
“I said that your utter lack of control is insulting and beneath your station.”
“You are in no position to speak to me like that.”
You splay your hands. Jungkook heaves a few feet away from him. You see the wheels turning, sense his adrenaline shooting upward. You needle him further. “I think we both agreed that here, I’m in a position to do whatever I want.”
Jungkook is fast. He’s in front of you in moments, hand shooting out to grab you by the throat. You’re not surprised by the action as he slams you against a wall, sneering. But you are surprised by the giddy delight that shoots up your spine as his fingers close tightly around your base.
When he squeezes, it isn’t to cut off your air supply. You recognize the sign of dominance, the grip he has on a vulnerable part of you. It’s the most instinctual form of an alpha trying to regain the upper hand and you’re so delighted that you laugh.
“I own you,” Jungkook whispers. “Whether you want it, or whether I want to. I signed your papers. You are legally mine.”
You lift a leg and wrap it around Jungkook’s waist, tugging him toward you. He balks, hand going slack around your throat as your hips press against his. A wave of pleasure rolls through you but you focus on the way Jungkook stutters, pulling back from you.
“Yeah?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. “You have the upper hand, dominus?” His fingers tighten but he doesn’t respond. You roll your hips into his, feeling the confidence from a moment ago slip through his fingers like sand. “What happened? I thought you owned me?”
“You are walking a dangerous line.”
“You’re doing nothing about it.”
“What do you want from me?” he grits out, teeth clenched. He’s shaking, loss of control so near.
“You own me?” you goad. “Then fucking use me, Jungkook. You’re two seconds from a fucking demonic frenzy and you don’t even have the sense to fall into it.”
“I don’t do that.”
You lean forward. He leans away but you crowd his space, eyes searching. You notice a mole just below his flush mouth, something you’ve never seen before. It’s soft. Endearing. You ignore the observation as your mouth brushes close to his, sharing breath.
“You’re afraid of your demon,” you purr. He says nothing, breathing heavily as he watches you, pupils dilated. “Weak.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Then feed the demon, Jungkook.”
Jungkook hesitate. You watch him, his jaw working and his eyes staring at you. You see the moment he gives over control to the demon part of him, pupils turning into saucers as his hand grips your throat tight. He leans forward, pressing in on your space until you’re chest to chest and his mouth is at the shell of your ear.
“If you wanted me to fuck you, why didn’t you just ask?”
Your hands go to his biceps, digging your nails in. He hisses, fingers pressing into the sides of your neck to restrict your breathing. “I thought you owned me,” you taunt. “I’m allowed to ask?”
It’s the final push he needs.
A shift happens in Jungkook. Swiftly, he drops you and flips you, slamming you chest first into the wall. It knocks the wind from your lungs, making you gasp as he crushes himself against you, nosing your ear. His breath is hot, sending chills down your spine. You grin, knowing you’ve got him going in the right direction.
You press your ass backwards into him, feeling his semi-hard cock in his pants. In his state, it doesn’t even need to be you Jungkook is attracted to. His demon side is wild, hungry to do anything to destroy, to fuck, to kill.
Demon frenzies enhance lust and violence, like adding fuel to a fire. Jungkook’s flame is stoked, his agony over his family members and his frustration blinding him as he rips the back of your shirt open, your scares and flesh on display for him.
“You want to be fucked like I own you?” he asks, voice low. “Fine.”
It's nothing new, being fucked like you’re owned. But this is different – it feels different. When Jungkook’s hands brush up your spine, they’re not violent. They’re inquisitive. Callused. You shiver under his touch, eyes shutting as he pulls the fabric of the ruined shirt off you.
Your nipples are pressed to the wall, providing friction. You give into it, letting that blissful stimulation bloom inside of you as he nudges your head to the side with his nose.
“Spread your legs,” he demands. His voice is barely a whisper. You do. “Not so talkative now, are we?”
“Is my commentating part of fucking me like you own me, dominus?”
A loud rip splits the air. Jungkook tears through your sweats, warm hands seeking the flesh of your ass. He grips your cheeks firmly, massaging the flesh as he ruts against you slightly. You moan, surprisingly not for effect but at the way you feel.
Rare is the occasion in which someone made you feel good during sex. It isn’t what you’re after, but it’s a bonus, letting Jungkook slip his hand between your legs to brush his finger through your folds. You're not dripping for him, but you let out a breathy sound as pleasure unfurls low in your stomach when he does it.
Even out of control Jungkook shows restrain. Your fascinated, split between panting against the wall as Jungkook’s skill fingers circle your clenching hole, gathering your wetness to slip toward your clit, applying light pressure as he circles the bundle of nerves.
Jungkook dedicates time to getting you worked up. His breath is warm against your ear, low grunts shooting more arousal straight to your core. For the first time in years, you’re dripping for someone. You can feel the slick on Jungkook’s fingers, your pussy warm and swollen for him as he continues to play with you.
Taking control of Jungkook’s thoughts is far from your mind now. You're distracted, fists pressing into the wall as Jungkook slips a finger into your entrance. You gasp, the pad of his finger brushing against your front wall, massaging your g-spot.
“Fuck,” you swear, seeing stars.
It becomes clear Jungkook knows what he’s doing, fucking his finger into you. You can hear the wet-slap of his hand against your pussy, worked up for him now as his clothed cock presses into your ass cheek.
“Such a tight fucking pussy,” he mutters. He doesn't seem to be talking to you as much as himself. “Cock is never gonna fuckin’ fit in here. Hmm. Oh well.”
He pulls his finger from you. You let out an angry sound, eyes flying open to glare at him over your shoulder. He pops the finger in his mouth, momentarily dumbing you as you watch him suck the shine from his finger. He doesn’t look at you when he’s done, hand working to pop the button on his jeans and tug his cock out.
When you look down, you realize that Jungkook is right. He might not fit, and it sends a little thrill through you, watching the way his heavy cock bobs against his shirt, dabbing it with precum as Jungkook only pulls his pants down enough to fuck you.
You’ve spent years tirelessly bouncing on a variety of cock and diving between the legs of mistress after mistress. Sex is not a stranger to you. Sometimes you remember vaguely enjoying a thing or two. Sometimes even when you didn’t like it, your body at least orgasmed.
Being used is something familiar – but you’re not being used now. Even if Jungkook thinks you are. Even as he thumbs the precum from the dark tip of his cockhead to spread it down his thick shaft, Jungkook isn’t in control.
You remember that as Jungkook leisurely pumps himself before brushing the tip through your now sticky folds. You press your cheek against the wall, sighing as he teases you. It feels good. You reach out with your mind, brushing Jungkook’s sightly. His walls are down, vulnerable. Your sneer turns into a loud moan when Jungkook pushes into your pussy on the upstroke.
The stretch is painful, your stomach plummeting as Jungkook splits you open. The glide isn’t slow. His instincts take over and he immediately fucks into you hard and deep, slamming your hips into the wall with his full weight with every thrust.
Jungkook fucks the breath out of you. One hand presses your face into the wall, your cheekbones and jaw throbbing with the force of it. His other hand grabs your hips, holding you in position as he fucks himself into you hard.
Pain-laced pleasure shoots through you. The sounds that drip from your mouth isn’t for show. Your toes curl and your head swims at the way he takes control, fingers pressed into your flesh, cock pressing deep deep deep.
You lose yourself in the slap of flesh on flesh and curses. He spits insults at you, and you growl in response, biting one of his fingers that strays too close to your mouth. You taste blood, grinning as the salt and iron tinged with honey pulls on your tongue. He smacks your mouth, the stinging making you trill with high-pitched laughter.
“Crazy Carved bitch,” he slurs. “Is this what you fucking wanted? To be fucked like this?”
“Fuck me harder, Jungkook.”
He presses your skull harder into the wall. For a moment, you think it might crack under the pressure. But you don’t break, and Jungkook listens, driving into you at a pace that would break anyone else. Anything else. But it doesn’t break you and it feels good to know that it doesn’t. To feel the way your pussy flutters around him as he fucks you with abandon.
So many people have tried to break you. So many. Many have almost succeeded, and yet you prevail. You keep going. You survive. You move on. You wait. You win.
Your orgasm mounts. You feel it building inside of you like the same electricity that gathered in that small hall to destroy. It coils and coils and coils. You become short of breath, sucking in hair as you tremble under Jungkook’s weight. His mind is flayed open and raw for the taking but you wait. Not yet not yet not yet.
Jungkook picks up speed. You feel his pace get sloppy and the change in rhythm pushes you over the edge. You come around him with a scream, vision going white as you hold your breath. You feel your entire body seize up, thrashing under him. Jungkook presses you against the wall, trapping you and making you take it as he thrusts one – two – three more times before coming with a curse.
The pace slows. The sweaty tension between you begins to dissipate. You feel Jungkook pull himself out, cum immediately running down your legs. His energy is lower now and when you manage to catch your breath and look at him over your shoulder, he’s swaying on his feet, fucked out expression on his face. He’s flushed, tip of nose red.
Your legs are shaking and sticky. You take a step toward him feeling the slide of your thighs against one another, made slippery by cum. You hold out a hand and he stares at it, eyes wide, expression blank. He’s in the fall after a frenzy, somewhere dazed between thoughts in his head.
Tentatively, Jungkook takes your hand. You leave the torn clothes on the floor, you leave everything. Namjoon surely heard everything, but the Hellhound minds his business as you lead Jungkook to your room. The half demon, half angel is suddenly pliant for you. Soft at the edges. Mute.
You sit him on the bed and he stares at you. Unmoving. Unthinking.
Brushing your mind against his, you feel nothing but static. The buzz of his thoughts is unorganized and sleepy. You keep the connection open, stepping into the bathroom to wash the cum from your legs, the sweat from your back and the blood from your face. You had not even realized that he split your lip.
In your room, Jungkook doesn’t move. He is listless and calm, steady breathing letting you know that he hasn’t gone to sleep just yet, but that he’s not entirely present.
Slipping into clothes and back into the room, you stand in front of him, eyes flickering over his face. Jungkook looks at you but he’s not really there. A tiny part of you hesitates. Knows that to violate his mind has always been your greatest fear of yourself.
But life isn’t fair, and you have been a slave for hundreds of years. You have suffered and you will suffer again in the future. And though you see something in Jungkook that you recognize, you know that to spare him is to admit weakness.
Pain is inevitable. Pain is constant. Pain is power.
Jungkook knows nothing of these tenants. Knows nothing of the life his mother lived before him, her principles, her heritage.
Sympathy is something you cannot afford to give him. So you push into his mind, seizing his thoughts. He doesn’t put up a fight. He hardly knows what you’re doing as you begin sorting through what’s there.
Minds are unique to each person. Though some of your fallen companions had similarities in the way their memories and thoughts were laid out, everyone had something unique. Jungkook’s mind feels like a thunderstorm at night, soft with the threat of something more. Something melancholy plays there, a tune that is familiar, but you cannot place.
You sift through the night's events. You see things through his eyes. Feel the contempt for those around him. Feel the apathy for the Vanir leashed to chairs and in cages. Feel the unfettered spark of adoration when he sees Kita. Feel the love for his brother, though you had not sensed it upon meeting Jihoon.
And there is love there. Maybe not in the form that humans or texts perceive it. But you taste the sweetness of the affection, and you understand that there are positive emotions when Jungkook looks at his older brother, no matter how complicated.
You sift through to running through the tunnels. Jungkook feels glad that he prepared. They had been worried as of late – there were confirmed movements of the rebel group Libram in the city. Confirmations of assets destroyed and vanishing members of the local government.
This surprises you. You were not aware that the rebels were so familiar with the city yet. The thought of the free cities is so distant from you that it feels odd to conceptualize that there are members of their organization in Lythos.
You follow the thread of Jungkook’s conversation with you from earlier.
But we are always prepared. It’s not often that someone tries to assassinate us, but...
But Jungkook had known that there was a growing presence of Libram in the city. And Belial had tortured you repeatedly for information on Libram, looking for any connection to the rebellion. To Michael. To the last remaining seraphim across the worlds.
You take a sharp breath. Jungkook’s feelings regarding Libram were wary. Laced with uncertainty and fear. You follow those thoughts, flipping through his memories looking for more information. Four assassinations on government officials. The destruction of one of the Kim’s synth mines. Liquidation of accounts that belonged to Belial through unknown methods and hackers.
For as long as you had belonged to Faustus to fight, you had kept your head down. You focused on living. Small moves and counter moves. You had not been looking for any news of Libram or their existence in the city, and until now, you had thought there weren’t many in the city. Whispers of the potential but nothing like what you’re seeing in Jungkook’s thoughts.
Carefully, you extract your mind from his and sit on the bed. With him tired and swaying, you offer him a nudge to go to sleep. He lays backwards, dark lashes fluttering shut. You watch him for a while, thoughts ruminating on the new information.
Libram being in the city is a factor that you did not calculate. You chew on your lips as you think of your next move. One way to gather the information you need would be through your Vanir contacts. You have so few. But the best way to get good information is through your Vaesen contacts, which are even fewer.
You think about the twisted creatures that killed Jungkook’s family. They did seem like... angels and demons twisted together. Like the stitching together of things that didn’t belong. Half-demons, half-angels were rare to begin with. But it was like they were trying to make something else.
Belial’s question comes back to you about Lilins. The children of Lilith herself, born from her savage rape of the Heavens, but specifically, the archangels. Unique creatures, with the perfectbalance. Enough demon blood to hide the angelic blood, and enough angelic blood to hide the demon.
The flicker of familiarity you felt when fighting those creatures sends a sinking feeling to the pit of your stomach. You look at Jungkook, asleep. He looks gentle in his sleep, lines smoothed out on his face. Round and childlike.
In the morning, you’ll go back to pretending. But for now, you pull your knees to your chest, setting your chin on top of them as you consider the options before deciding that you need to follow the sick feeling that twists your gut.
Because if you’re suspicions are right... Libram made those creatures that killed Jungkook’s family tonight, targeting Belial and his children. It puts you in a dangerous position, but also a favorable one if Libram discovers your existence and grows curious about how useful you might be.
Yet none of it relieves you. Because if those creatures are what you think they are, there are seraphim in the world that are trying to bring Lilins back to the fight. Lilins, the creatures solely responsible for bringing the Heavens down.
-
D E F I N I T I O N S
Adamas - metal made from the Heavens, favorite in weapons used by angels and fae
Carved – angels who have had their wings surgically removed and sold for ownership. The possession of an angel’s wings gives the owner power over the angel’s grace, thereby giving them power over the angel.
Collared – a Vanir who is owned as a slave. They are often identifiable by the custom collars their masters put on their necks.
Dominus – term used by a slave to their male identifying master
Huli jing - Chinese fox spirit; similar to the Kitsune
Lilins - the offspring of the First Demon, Lilith, an the seraphim, most notably with the angels Uriel and Raphael. They are the perfect balance of Vanir and Vaesen and were used as spies during the war.
Seraph - a single angel, one of the seraphim
Seraphim - species of angels associated with Christian heaven, soldiers of God
Triumvirate – the three Lords who rule the Realms – figures of the Underworld
Vaesen – creatures associated with Underworld Realms such as demons, daevas, sorcerers, vampires, wraiths, and monster-like creatures
Vanir – creatures associated with Heaven Realms such as angels, faeries, witches, dragons, demigods and any heavenly-like being
-
I am no longer doing a tag list. After several attempts to get this tag list to work and Tumblr refusing to tag correct/process the post, I just took them off. I'm removing taglists for 2023 anyways because of how difficult tagging has become (incorrect usernames, Tumblr eating tags, copy and pasting not working).
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jungkook97 · 5 months
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it's a bad idea, right? || jjk & myg
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pairing: jungkook x female!reader, yoongi x female!reader word count: ~8.8k rating: ma genre: romcom, smut (not too detailed though!), fake dating to lovers, non-idol!au, roommates au, jungkook is a lovesick little bitch, y/n is toxica and aloof, yoongi is y/n’s “perfect” ex who she wants back
summary: yoongi and y/n broke up and she wants him back. desperately. so much so that she got a fake boyfriend (aka her annoying BUT attractive roommate) to get him jealous.
what a terrible idea.
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notes: UM i didn't intend for it to end that way but i'm horny for the both of them saur. yeah! sharing is caring lol
© jungkook97 2023. do not repost or modify. please ask for permission to translate.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
You emerged from the sheets, silent.
BANG.
“I know you’re in there,” a voice echoed through the door. You grimaced, sitting up. It was your roommate again and frankly, you had enough of the guy.
It has been a few days since you and Yoongi had called it quits and you had warned very loudly to your roommate, Jungkook, that you’d be on an emotional rollercoaster for the next few days. It was a clear warning from the jump that you would be loud in your cries, perhaps unkempt and smelly from the depression, and so on and so forth. You said you weren’t going to see him so much as you’d be in bed, eyes puffy and red. 
“Am I being too loud?” you asked the obvious, but Jungkook just sighed, body shifting against the door.
“Just open the damn door. I need to talk to you.”
Grumbling, you pulled the blanket off your body and slinked over, slowly cracking the door open. 
“Jesus, you look terrible!” Jungkook exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing together. He broke into a little chuckle to himself before you told him to kindly fuck off with a soft smile. Even though Jungkook can be the biggest asshole, he still didn’t entirely pissed you off. 
Probably because the kid is very attractive, you thought to yourself, sighing. Oh, pretty people. Getting away with everything per usual.  
“What do you want?” you got straight to the point. It was at least midnight at this point, and you couldn’t help but to realize that you hadn’t eaten. Of course, you didn’t plan to have dinner, especially with Jungkook being around and making fun of your cooking (What a jerk, you thought, he could flawlessly make anything). Nonetheless, your stomach betrayed you anyway, gurgling as Jungkook pointed at you as if you’ve been caught with some marijuana or something. 
“Ah, I was about to ask if you’re hungry because I made some extra food and there it goes~” he hummed, laughing as he slid the door even more open. “Come on, it’s tasty. You know it’s always tasty…unlike my lo–”
“Okay,” you interrupted, sickened by the sexual innuendo. Men were truly disgusting, especially Korean men and their porn-obsessed brains. It didn’t help that you found the most Korean guy possible as your roommate, but at least the rent isn’t too bad with him and he doesn’t try to make any unwanted moves. To you, he was a diamond in the rough. “Let me freshen up and I’ll be there.”
He smirked, standing upright.
“I’ll see you!”
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And so the two of you had a very late dinner. He wasn’t wrong with making suyuk (“I just winged it~” he bragged, which made you roll your eyes) to your level and taste, and you gobbled it right away. He was right: you were pretty hungry. 
“So, how’s it been?” Jungkook began some small talk as he poured another glass of highball for himself. The man goes through bottles of Jack Daniels like it’s water, but at least he isn’t a lightweight. Koreans and their alcohol, you thought. 
“Miserable,” you mumbled, chewing the rice slowly before grabbing another slice. “It’s barely day 3 and I miss him so bad.”
“I told you, he’s probably fucking other bitches,” he snorted while plopping some more pork on his plate. “It’s Min Yoongi after all.”
Your heart sank at the mere possibility of it, swirling your chopsticks in your bowl. Jungkook was right. It would’ve been different if Yoongi was still that shy underground producer when you two first met, but he was a hot shot now, collaborating with all kinds of U.S. producers and even collaborating with Major Lazer on a track recently. There were rumors even Beyoncé had plans to cook up a beat with him, but it has been hard to keep track of him. Yoongi was getting too popular for your taste, and that was what led to the breakup in the first place. Distance, misunderstandings, and then a big argument. The typical stuff. 
You sighed, putting your free hand to your chin, thinking pensively. There has to be a way to get him back. There was no way you were going to let Yoongi slip from your hands. He was the perfect guy: sweet, empathetic, thoughtful, literally so good in bed (your body just quivered at the fact that his tongue healed your past horrible hookups and situationships)...the list went on, and you were so sure it was gonna be endgame. Two years of good memories, all for a stupid argument? 
You should’ve fought harder, but Yoongi’s words cut so deep. He was a producer after all. The man’s pen got Grammy nominations. Beyoncé was calling him up. How could you compete with that? That was a losing battle to begin with.
Unless…
“Jungkook?”
“Hm?” his eyes looked up from his phone screen rather nonchalantly.
You leaned in, folding your leg underneath your bottom before scooching closer to him. 
“Do you want to form an alliance?” you said in the best The Office’s Dwight impression possible.
“What?” he asked blankly. 
“Do you want to be my fake boyfriend to get Yoongi back?”
You couldn’t believe the words that came out of your mouth. It was a stupid idea, idiotic. There was no way it was going to work: you always talked shit about Jungkook to Yoongi. How the hell was he going to be convinced that you fell in love with Jeon Jungkook? 
You quietly gagged at the possibility, but you also knew deeply that no other man would do it with no strings attached besides him. You couldn’t explain why though: maybe it was because of how aloof the guy was, or maybe he seemed pretty good on paper. Despite being annoying, Jungkook was attractive, had a nice job, and was also not a bad human being. He might not be the perfect guy, but he’s…
…okay.
Just. 
Okay.
Jungkook put his finger up to his chin, rubbing it quietly to himself. You stared back at him, waiting for an answer.
“So?” 
“What’s in it for me?”
You shrugged.
“Uh, out of the kindness of your heart?”
Jungkook snorted. 
“That isn’t good enough.”
“What do you want then?” you crossed your arms, frowning. “Sex?”
“Ew!” Jungkook immediately gagged, grimacing at the thought of you two doing it. “God no.”
“Money?”
He shook his head again.
“Nah.”
You were growing frustrated, growling under your breath.
“Then what?”
“Sana’s number.”
Your eyes widened.
“FUCK NO,” you yelled back, hissing at Jungkook’s eyebrows raising up twice and him smirking. 
“What, you want the man back or not?” he mocked. 
“She’s….precious to me,” you whispered. You two were peas in a pod and were really close, protective over each other even. You knew Jungkook was going to go there though, especially with the way he openly stared at her when she was at your guys’ place a couple of weeks ago. 
(He also kept asking if she was going to come back. Jungkook was not a slick guy in the slightest.)
“You. Want. Him. Back. Or. Not?” he repeated again, crossing his arms. “It’s simple. I’ll do whatever it takes for you to get Yoongi back, and I'll get Sana's number at the end. You know I won’t be creepy towards her.”
He was right. If he was the type to send dick pics, he would’ve sent you one already.
You exhaled deeply, extending your hand out for a formal handshake.
“Deal.”
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And so, you two began to plot. Since Jungkook was in the music industry himself, it was pretty easy to “run” into Yoongi. That was always the easy part though. The harder part was to actually look like a couple with your fucking incredibly sophomoric roommate. 
Jungkook was younger than you by a couple of years, and was a bit of a fuckboy. No, more like a major fuckboy. In the beginning of your tenancy at the apartment with the man, he would always invite girls to his room and they would fuck (loudly), pissing you off. He wouldn’t even give much warning, but it wasn’t until a month or two ago when he completely stopped his antics, and well, got nicer to you overall. You didn’t get why though, but you were not going to question it either.
And so, you held your breath as you two made your way to the café Yoongi always went to in the morning before heading to the studio. You were panicking, hands all clammy as Jungkook’s eyes were on you before rolling his eyes.
“Come on, you can’t act like this,” he piped up as you two waited for the street to turn green for pedestrians. “The more you get nervous about it, the more it’s going to look fake as hell.”
“You think I don’t know that?” you exhaled sharply, wiping your hands on your skirt before extending it out to touch his. “Grab my hand.”
He did it immediately, and it took you slightly aback. First of all, he didn’t protest or whine when he did, and secondly, his hands were unbelievably soft? You couldn’t believe Jungkook actually used actual lotion, and his grip was just right. Not too rough, but firm and inviting. 
“Get closer to me,” he instructed, his linked hand pulling closer toward his body as you went along as he rested his head a bit above your head. On the count of three, the two of you walked in unison across the street as onlookers were clearly staring at the both of you winging it to the coffee shop. You could feel your hands producing more and more sweat making it slippery, but Jungkook never once let go. In fact, he held even tighter to your surprise.
“Where is he?” he muttered under his breath as he cracked his neck to look around the shop. You did the same before noticing a lightly curled dark-haired man you knew too well. Yoongi was sitting down drinking his little double shot espresso, eyes already set on the both of you. Your stomach lurched forward at his pensive eyes, scanning the situation as you nudged Jungkook to look over. 
You two were inconspicuously in line for a coffee. It was the easiest way to sneak in without causing a scene, you two decided the night before. As the line moved forward, you were still staring into Yoongi’s eyes. Despite being with him for two years, you could never really read him very well. It was a part of his charm: he was so mysterious, yet so intimate. 
“Ah,” you saw his lips make a vowel as he sat up in his seat, suddenly interested in what was going on. Jungkook looked over nonchalantly before looking back at you, eyes locked at the menu. You, on the other hand, weren't looking too hot. 
You kept staring at Yoongi and you couldn’t tell if he was jealous or even remotely upset. He just looked void of emotion like he always did, just how you remembered him. Surely, he wasn’t happy, and maybe you could take that as a victory. 
But oh, his face. You missed it so much. You love this man so hard and if only you could just go over there and kiss him on the spot, you would. His lips were firmly pressed together before he finally looked down in his coffee cup, making you exhale sharply, butterflies in your stomach.
Is he…upset?
“You gonna order?” 
Jungkook’s voice rang through your ears as you realized you two were at the front of the line. Hastily, you ordered as Jungkook heaved heavily, putting his hand up as you pulled out your card to pay.
“I got this, sweetheart,” he replied almost naturally before tapping his card against the card reader. You were stunned at the sudden drop of the pet name, but he was playing his role relatively well. 
“I guess you’re working really hard for Sana’s number after all,” you whispered under your breath as Jungkook rolled his eyes again, grabbing the ticket number.
“Yeah, and I would’ve loved it if you were better at acting because it seems like I’m doing the heavy lifting here,” he grumbled back, pulling you with him to the other side of the counter. You could feel Yoongi’s eyes following you two as your back turned against him, looking at Jungkook directly, cheeks slightly flushed.
“I’m sorry, I’m just…” you paused, trying to find the right words. The atmosphere seemed really warm all of a sudden as you were slightly dizzy. “...flustered.”
“Yeah, no shit,” he replied back, chuckling. You could feel the envy in the room as he did that. You forgot: Jungkook was a pretty hot guy, and well sought after in the showbiz scene. 
You two had some small talk then, but as quiet it could possibly be due to the NDAs you two signed in regards to your jobs. It was a normal conversation you two would regularly have, but you were very self conscious about looking more “couple-y” in front of your ex. As the two of you sat down to wait for your order, Jungkook put his arm behind you against the table (you assume) to assert dominance, and you put your hand on his lap. Weirdly, you felt him stiffen a bit, but you didn’t think much. It was probably a sensitive area for Jungkook: after all, he was pretty used to a lot of girls touching him in a sexual way. 
“Order for J-K!” the barista called out. It felt like the entire shop, including Yoongi, was staring at the both of you as you two stood up to take your drinks. As you took a sip with confidence, the both of you left the shop with Jungkook opening the door for you, continuing on whatever nonsensical conversation you guys were having. Jungkook followed you closely as you slowly made a grin, nudging the guy.
“I think that was pretty good,” you giddily squealed. He rolled his eyes once more, creating a bit of distance between you two. 
“It was passable.”
Ding. 
You pulled out your phone, seeing what you’ve been waiting for. 
[MIN YOONGI: Was that Jeon Jungkook you were with just now?]
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It was working, she believed. All Jungkook did was just roll his eyes. 
It was a stupid idea, almost idiotic. It was like high school all over again, except they were past their quarter life crisis and Jungkook was terribly bored. His little whore phase was over, and he was in need of some “no strings attached” fun. 
You were always fascinating to him when you moved in. Most girls would avoid renting with a Korean man in the first place after hearing horror stories about people like him in Korea, but she took a chance anyway. He wasn’t sure if you were stupid or if you were just incredibly brave, but the comedy fodder you’ve gotten in the past year was worth it. All of the hilarious stories from her side of the industry made Jungkook’s life a bit lighter and less depressing. After all, turning down people’s dreams was not what Jungkook wanted to do with his life.
Knowing that he could fuck around with some popular producer’s feelings made him feel good and honestly, you weren’t a bad match for him. 
He wouldn’t admit it, but he had a little crush on you, on God. You were pretty, smart and didn’t seem to care about the glitz and glamour of Hollywood, and that was way different from the many girls he has been seen with. Admittedly there was a long list of women who would love to have a bite of him, but he was getting tired. LA women can be too dramatic at times, and you were the opposite of that.
Every night, you two had dinner to go over what happened that day, and little did he know that he would eventually grow super fond of you, suddenly talking about you and the antics you two were pulling to his friends. Mingyu was the first to pop the question if you two were actually dating, but Jungkook kept denying, saying it was an elaborate scheme. 
“Why are you doing it? Clearly it’s not out of the kindness of your heart,” Mingyu would tease him while Jungkook had a few shots in him. “Admit it, you actually like her and fake dating is easier to deal with than actually asking her out.”
Jungkook denied, denied and denied some more, emphasizing he wouldn’t catch feelings. Yes, Jungkook put his heart on his sleeve constantly, but fake dating is fake dating. There was no way he would pass those boundaries, but as the dinners continued, the more he felt that there was something there…a spark, even. 
One night, you were on the couch just texting as Jungkook was working out nearby, heaving and puffing. He was keeping his eyes on you subconsciously, seeing you smile and grinning at small things as his mind went wild as to what it was. Maybe it was Yoongi you were texting, or a whole new guy together. It drove him insane, and he couldn’t help but to feel rather territorial. Sure, he knew a lot about you at this point, but he also didn’t know everything about you.
“Who are you texting?” he impulsively asked, setting the dumbbells down as he pulled his arms up in the air, stretching. His lips escaped a groan as he cracked his neck, kneeling down to meet at her eye level.
You looked up, eyes locked in with his. His heart leaped forward as she grinned, putting her knees together to her chest. 
“It’s Yoongi.”
Jungkook’s heart sank. 
Sank…?
Oh fuck, Jungkook thought. No. Oh no. 
“What are you guys texting about?” he felt himself ask, again with not much thought. Were they sexting each other? Were you already back with Yoongi already and you were just messing with Jungkook’s feelings? His mind was running wild suddenly, and he felt a bit…strange. Upset, maybe.
“None of your business!” you retorted back, putting your phone closer to your chest, laughing. 
Jungkook’s tongue protruded from his cheek as he played with his lip rings and folded his arms. 
“What do you mean, ‘it’s none of my business’? Don’t you think your fake boyfriend should know what’s going on?”
He was getting heated, his nostrils flaring. He should know what was going on, especially if maybe they’re really together all of this time and he was being played. Jungkook hated being played, and he felt like he was being royally screwed over at this point.
“Okay, you can tone down the fake jealousy,” you laughed, turning the phone around. He walked over immediately, kneeling down to see the text conversation. It wasn’t even with Yoongi, but rather with Sana. 
Fuck.
“Oh, fuck off, you’re so annoying,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, going back to his dumbbells. You giggled, opening the camera app to take a photo of him working out.
“Say hi to Sana! Flex a bit so she gets intrigued, come on~!” 
Jungkook sighed loudly, ignoring you. It was then he realized something was deeply wrong with this situation, something that Mingyu was making fun of him about. 
And so since then, he started catching feelings, especially when the two of you had dinner one night at a nearby restaurant after hearing Yoongi was going to have dinner there as well with supposedly a business partner. You were really nervous about the whole ordeal once again. 
It seemed that every time you two did anything in the presence of Min Yoongi, you were nervous about it, much to Jungkook’s annoyance. But he gritted his teeth anyway, fixing your dress as you fidgeted in it despite looking ravishing in it. In fact, he was trying not to look at you as much to avoid getting flustered, but he couldn’t help it. You looked beautiful in a forest green mid-length dress, makeup as light and perfect as Jungkook liked on you. You looked effortless, and that was something he really liked about you. 
“Do you think he would say something in person after this?” you asked seriously, putting on your diamond earrings. 
Jungkook was leaning against the bathroom counter on his phone, trying to hide the fact that he was getting annoyed again, his body temperature rising as all she was asking about what Yoongi would think and how they would appear in front of him. At this point, he was getting tired, and frankly, he wanted to just get the man to whisk you away or whatever so he can move on. Jungkook knew you didn’t feel the same in any capacity, and perhaps that was best. It was messy to get into it with your roommate out of all people, and Sana would be a great distraction for him. 
You two looked really good together though, Jungkook admitted to himself. As he looked up at the bathroom mirror, he could see how well you two matched together, how well your hands fitted in his, and how easy flowing your guys’ conversations were with each other. It was as if you two had known each other for a while, like friends from the past life or something. 
If only you two could be more than friends.
Or is that….too much to ask? 
“Hey silly, let’s go! Reservation’s in an hour!” you snapped him out of reality. He shook himself awake and cleared his throat, his eyes locking with yours as he gulped nervously after. You looked…gorgeous.
“Y-yeah,” he replied, taking his jacket with him as you turned the bathroom light off. Grabbing his hand, you two made your way out of the apartment and into the elevator where Jungkook stood behind you, taking you in. There was a slight hair out of place and he instinctively put it back into place, which made you flinch a bit. 
“Anything in my hair?” you asked, patting the area down. 
He met eyes with you again, this time invoking a feeling of warmness and softness that he didn’t know he was extruding. Surely, you weren’t noticing it entirely, staring back at him for an answer. He was clearly unraveling in front of you, but you were too worried about what Yoongi was going to wear or what he was going to say to you (if he was going to say anything to you, that is). He fell in love in that elevator, and he was down bad. 
“Uh, no,” he made sure to reply back to not alarm you, putting his hands into his pockets and staring at the ground. He was clearing his throat again, feeling as if he had caught something. There wasn’t anything infectious though, just a big ball of nerves and anxiety caused by being lovesick. 
He was being a big fat loser for love, just like Mingyu had predicted.
Mingyu was right. Jeon Jungkook was in love with you.
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You two got to the restaurant in record time, and there Yoongi was, having dinner with another woman. You held your breath as you gripped Jungkook’s hand a bit tighter, making his stomach churn in nervousness. 
“He’s with someone,” you stated the obvious, biting down your bottom lip as you were trying not to cry. You had gotten the info about the business partner through Jungkook, but something told you that he was just trying to spare your feelings. Min Yoongi was on a date with someone and you didn’t like that at all.
And so, you turned around and leaned into Jungkook’s ear, requesting him to put his arm around your waist. He did it almost immediately as the server took you to the table, “coincidentally” in front of Yoongi and his supposed date. 
As expected, Yoongi saw the two of you immediately, frozen stiff as you made eye contact with him before looking at Jungkook with the lovey-dovey smile you conjured up on the spot. Now was the time to make him feel absolutely uncomfortable, regretting breaking up with you.
You leaned in to Jungkook, who at this point was in his damn feelings, and planted a kiss on his cheek. He turned a light pink, playing with his lip rings as you laughed unnaturally, planting your bottom back in your chair. 
“What, you’re flustered suddenly?” you giggled, pushing your hair to the side to show your sharp collar bones and chest. You could see Yoongi shift uncomfortably in his seat, biting his lips as his date continued talking about God knows what. 
You smirked. You were getting his attention. 
“Of course,” Jungkook answered back with a lot of sincerity, trying to mask it as him being a great actor. Of course, he was disheartened that you kept staring behind him, but he kind of didn’t care. Yoongi was getting pissed off, and that was what kept him going honestly. Maybe he couldn’t have you, but at least her ex was not having it. It was kind of twisted, but Jungkook weirdly liked it. “You know how I feel about PDA, my love.”
“I thought you’re the type to like showing that I’m yours,” you flirtily replied, making Jungkook’s heart literally skip a beat. You were pulling out all the stops in such a pathetic and unapologetic way, and it was making him feel really good. 
“Yeah, you are mine,” he smirked, grabbing your hand to squeeze. “You’re always going to be mine, no one else’s.”
Yoongi’s tongue poked out of his cheek, stifling a chuckle. The tension in the room was high, and you enjoyed every bit of it. 
You two didn’t last through the appetizers before Yoongi excused himself to the bathroom. You did the same, hoping to run into him. 
You did, almost too perfectly. As the two of you stood next to each other in the shared sink area, Yoongi stood next to you. His Invictus cologne enveloped your nostrils as you smiled, remembering how much that used to drive you wild. 
“So you’re with Jungkook for real, huh?” Yoongi turned his body towards you, chuckling. “I didn’t know you’d lower your standards like that,” he continued, flipping his hair to the side. 
“Please,” you scoffed. “Like that girl you got is any better than me.” 
“She’s looking for a producer,” he emphasized, smirking. “I knew you would think it’s a date. Do you think I have time to see anybody right now?”
You turned off the faucet and shook your hands dry. 
“Yeah, I know,” you replied nonchalantly. “That was why we broke up, remember?”
Yoongi swallowed sharply at the comment, making you feel rather elated. He was clearly hurt. 
Now you want him to want you back.
There was a moment of silence between you two as you took a paper towel to dry your hands and you did it painstakingly slowly as he looked directly into your eyes, probably trying to decipher what you were thinking. You stonewalled him, just like he did with you in the last few weeks of your relationship, unwilling to say anything to fix the rift you two had. Yoongi wasn’t that perfect like you thought of weeks ago: there was a reason why he broke up with you. He was an asshole, unwilling to spend more time with you, confiding in you. Even Jungkook, your fake boyfriend, was a better listener than Yoongi was sometimes.
“I know what you’re doing,” Yoongi said simply, leaning against the wall. “You’re trying to make me jealous.”
Your stomach lurched forward as you swallowed shallowly, clearing your throat to hide it. Yoongi’s lips curved into a smirk as he slowly leaned into you. 
“You’re trying to make me fucking jealous,” he repeated, this time in a lower tone, almost growling. You felt as if he knocked the wind out of you, his breath so close to you. This was the Yoongi you remembered, the guy who wouldn’t mince words, but rather, said it upfront. It was incredibly sexy of him, and it was the most attractive quality. It was the reason you two got together, and the chemistry was impalpable. 
Kiss him. Or at least say something. 
“And what if I was…?” you taunted back, your hands getting closer to his against the sink. You two were incredibly close at this point, lips almost touching. “Are you fucking jealous, Min Yoongi?”
His lips leaned in even closer, barely touching your own. 
“Maybe.”
Your heart skipped a beat. You had him in your fingers, and it was a power play that you knew Yoongi loved, and almost missed about you. You were a thrill for him, and despite how turbulent the relationship was, you two always had that energy with each other. 
He held his breath as you pulled away sharply, teasing him. His eyes turned dark as you smirked.
“Well, that’s too bad,” you replied. “Wish I could do something.”
And with that, you clicked your heels in the opposite direction, strutting away in your best model walk possible, making sure Yoongi was able to see every inch of you swaying your round hips with your dress. You just knew that he was checking you out as you smirked, walking back towards your table.
Jungkook’s eyes looked up when you returned, his demeanor a bit more serious than ever before, mainly because he could see Yoongi trailing behind you, smirking. His cat-like dark eyes looked back at Jungkook’s big and impressionable ones with a dark envy, a kind of territorial way that made Jungkook’s stomach bubbled in jealousy. 
He wasn’t sure what happened to the two of you in the bathroom, but he knew something happened and he did not like it.
Later on in the night as you gushed about the bathroom incident, Jungkook’s mind was going haywire, trying to grapple with his own feelings about the current state of affairs. There has to be a way to get out of this situation. He needed Sana’s number to drown out what he was feeling, and he needed it now. 
As he continued to give one-word answers and hums, you raised an eyebrow as he slammed the front door behind you, plopping onto the couch.
“Is everything okay?” you asked, setting your purse on the coffee table in front of him. 
Jungkook, deep in his phone, responded in the driest manner,
“Well, it looks like we got the man jealous so…” he put his hand out toward you. “Give me Sana’s number.”
You blinked.
“What? We’re not done yet!” you argued, putting your hands on your hips, shocked. “The rule was I give you her number when Yoongi wants me back!”
“Well, technically he does because he’s jealous,” Jungkook emphasized, scrolling through Instagram, putting more focus on the jealous part of the sentence. “He’s probably gonna ask that tomorrow or whatever, so give me Sana’s number.”
You squinted your eyes, leaning closer toward him to match his eye level. Jungkook could sense it as his heart beated faster as he peered up, shrugging.
“What?”
“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” you questioned, slowly breaking into a smile. “That’s why you’re ignoring me.” 
Jungkook sighed. You were incredibly terrible at catching cues, but for once, it was a blessing in disguise. It wasn’t like you were going to return his feelings anyways so it was best that there was this kind of miscommunication. 
“Yes,” he lied straight to her face. Keep being the good actor you are and she’ll never know. “Now hand it over.”
“Alright, alright,” you replied, pulling out your phone. “You do deserve it. You looked like you were pretty jealous back there and I’m pretty sure Yoongi felt a certain type of way about that.”
Jungkook’s stomach churned uneasily as he let out a small laugh, licking his lips and playing with his lip rings. 
That wasn’t acting, his brain yelled to you. I was pretty fucking jealous, but I can’t really admit it, can I? 
It felt like a whole joke, but at least it means it was over. Jungkook didn’t have to play the fake boyfriend game anymore because it would risk him falling in love with you even more. A good time with Sana would make him forget as he was the type to move on easily. Or rather, that was what he hoped anyway. It was hard to tell, as you two got pretty damn close. 
It doesn’t hurt to try. 
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Weeks passed and the conversation has been extremely dry for Jungkook. Turns out Sana already was seeing somebody, and you were being very obtuse about contacting Yoongi again. While he wasn’t sure that you two went on dates together, it seemed that the jig was revealed and you two were in the talking phase with a noncommittal promise that Yoongi would take you to this fancy gala hosted by the company. Jungkook found this out the night before the gala as you two had yet another home cooked meal together. 
“—but yeah, he said he would get back to me later tonight about it,” you updated him, munching on some stir-fry chicken that the both of you made together. As you were cooking the chicken, Jungkook kept stealing glances to look at you, occasionally almost cutting his own finger off in the process. Again, you noticed, but again, you chalked it up to Jungkook just being clumsy. 
In fact, you had thought of the possibility of Jungkook actually liking you because well, you weren’t entirely stupid when it comes to the age-old trope of fake dating. But, you instilled a lot of trust in Jungkook that you felt like it was just you being full of yourself. Surely, you were a looker and any man would check you out. Also, your chemistry with Jungkook at this point had been strictly friendly, and if he was into you, he would’ve made moves already like he did to most of the girls he picked up. 
Of course, you had no idea he would act completely different around girls he hooked up with versus girls he actually likes. 
After a moment of silence, Jungkook asked a rather weird question, uncharacteristic of him.
“Hey, I was uh, thinking if you wanted to smoke some weed with me tonight. You know, just to unwind.”
You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head.
“What, really? You’re not much of a smoker if I remember correctly.”
Jungkook looked down in his bowl, playing with his rice. 
“I know. It’s because I get kind of weird with it and like…” he continued fumbling with the rice even more, “I don’t know, I feel comfortable with you enough to where I think I’ll be okay.”
You pouted, smiling a bit. How cute of him, you thought. He trusted you so much. 
“That’s adorable.” 
Jungkook’s ears turned a light pink. 
“Yeah uh…I can pack the first bowl, if you want.”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
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You couldn’t believe what was happening. You were making out with Jeon Jungkook. 
It came absolutely from left field, something that you never thought when you sparked up the first bowl that you would end up in this position. You literally had no crazy and unhinged sexual thoughts of Jungkook up until that point. Besides admitting to yourself that he was very attractive, you were too close to him to even think about him in that manner.
And yet, you kissed back, and you kissed back hard. 
You couldn’t explain it, but you knew you were a touchy person when you were high. It didn’t matter who it was, but the more comfortable you got, the more you put your whole body against his, laughing with your whole body as you leaned onto him for support. 
He didn’t contest at all. If anything, he held onto you even tighter, his hands gripping your thighs to pull you closer to him. You felt yourself flush red by his sudden strength, by his sudden forwardness. That was what you liked about Yoongi, or rather, what you liked about in a man in general. 
Why was he so forward, you thought to yourself in passing. Why was he so…..fucking….hot to me right now?
There was something about the way his eyes lingered on your lips for way too long as you two calmed down, something about the way your head just fit perfectly above his shoulders and collarbone, something about the way the lighting was that made him look like you could just fucking kiss him. You wondered what his lips taste like suddenly, what his lip rings felt like against your own lips, how much he would’ve loved it if you just teased him, pulling against the metal with his hair pushed back and tugged on.
You could hear him moan your name softly, just begging to do more with you, tugging on your thighs so you could sit properly in his lap. 
It was a moment that felt like a dream and a blur, something you couldn’t be able to describe. You felt so good in that moment, and he felt so good on your lips. It didn’t feel wrong at all. If anything, it felt so right and so serendipitous. 
It’s the weed, you were thinking to yourself as your guys’ lips parted. There’s no way this could be this good sober. 
Jungkook’s eyelashes detached from your own as he opened his eyes, smirking almost too confidently. Your eyes widened at what you two had done as you lifted up your legs to get off of him. He held you back, putting his hands on your hips.
“Where are you going?” he purred, his head snuggling into your shoulders. “I thought you wanted more, baby.” 
Your spine tingled at his words as his hands roamed up and down your back, massaging at the right places. You held back a moan and gasped sharply instead, shaking your head. 
“Jungkook, I—”
“You what…” he continued, his lips nibbling your neck. “You’re with someone?” he slowly began lifting up your shirt. “You’re not with anyone…you’re not even committed to him.”
You tugged your shirt down, shocked at how incredibly seductive he was. As his head tilted up to look into you, he was gone, his eyes red but filled with unbridled passion. He wanted all of you, and he was getting possessive and aggressive.
You could feel your body starting to feel a certain type of way about it. After all, you hadn’t slept with anybody in a while, and the mere fact that Jungkook was all over you was turning you on. You were always physically attracted to him. His chiseled abs, his sharp jawline and his strong biceps sometimes distracted you. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were starting to realize the chemistry you two had to be more than friendly at some point. 
What if…this whole time…all of his teases and clumsiness was just him flirting with you?
Your stomach dropped at the fact.
“I want to make you feel good,” he mewled, his hands gripping on your ass as he kept kissing your neck. “I hate seeing you just waiting at the door for that fucking guy when I literally have been dropping hints on how much I want you. I want you so bad…so so bad.”
His hips began rolling against your own as he grunted softly, his eyes bearing deep into yours. He wanted you incredibly bad, the type of desire that you didn’t know Jungkook had within him. It reminded you of Yoongi himself, except by now, he would’ve eaten you out.
You felt bad. Felt bad for wasting Jungkook’s time up until this point, and felt bad that you had been ignoring him. All this time when you were trying to chase Yoongi, he was there by your side, just pathetically wanting you like a lovesick puppy.
Your heart sank at the thought of it as you pulled away, cupping his face. His eyes were half-lidded, drunk from the passion and desperation. 
“Jungkook, I can’t do this,” your eyes began tearing up. “I can’t have you be like this. You’re my friend and I just…” you sniffled. “I don’t see you anymore than just hooking up right now.”
He blinked slowly, biting his lips. 
“I don’t fucking care,” he replied simply. “I don’t fucking care if you don’t like me back. Even if we were to fuck now, I don’t care if you don’t catch feelings. As long as you’re mine at this moment and nobody else’s. As long as you think of me the way you feel about him at this moment…” his lips made a small pathetic smile, “You can use me, I don’t fucking care. I want you too much…way too much. Just to fucking taste you, I’d risk it all. I’d do anything for you...”
He slowly dropped off the last syllable, slowly dozing off to sleep. You sighed deeply, putting his head back against the couch. As you slowly got off of him, you saw the time, realizing it was already the morning of the gala. 
Fuck. What do I do now?
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[MIN YOONGI: Are you ready to go?]
[MIN YOONGI: I’m on my way.]
[MIN YOONGI: I’m here.]
You and Jungkook were staring into each other’s eyes from across the room. He wasn’t trying to put up a front anymore as he swallowed hard, sticking his tongue around the edges of his mouth. 
You two were dressed up to go to the same gala, except this time, it wasn’t together. You couldn’t help but to feel a great distance between you two since last night, and it has gotten incredibly awkward. 
Jungkook apologized profusely after he had woken up, but it was through a closed door. You locked yourself in your room at that point, trying to reorganize your emotions about everything. You were replaying every moment you two had in your head as things began to make sense. Jungkook was clearly in love with you and didn’t have the heart to say it, and you took advantage of him. You wondered if it was the right decision to even go to the gala at this point, as it would stick the knife even more that you guys weren’t seeing each other. 
In fact, you forgot about Yoongi completely since last night, wondering if all this time you were just chasing that feeling of being wanted or needed by a strong-willed guy instead of Min Yoongi himself. Yoongi still made you nervous, but that feeling also came back as Jungkook knocked on your door, begging to talk to you. Your stomach was in knots, just thinking about how he kissed you so passionately last night, how much he wanted you…
You were thinking twice about this gala date. Badly. 
[MIN YOONGI: Hello?]
As you wore yet another revealing dress, all dolled up and pretty, you opened the front door, swinging your purse over your shoulder as you hastily text back:
[YOU: Sorry, I’m coming!]
With one more look at Jungkook, who at this point was looking at his phone, you closed the door behind you and there you went, breaking his heart even more to pieces.
It didn’t take long before Yoongi was all over you. The moment you got in the car, he immediately pounced, making out with you in the same passion and energy as Jungkook did the night before. He desperately wanted to taste you, and perhaps, twenty four hours ago, you would’ve relished every moment of it even more than you did now.
“I fucking missed you,” he breathed as he parted his lips from you, leaning back against the driver’s seat. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you sent me last night…”
You forgot. You had sent some spicy nudes to him prior to getting high and frisky with Jungkook. 
How fucking awful, you thought. You were really messing with these men’s feelings. 
As Yoongi backed up from the parking spot with one hand, he wiped his mouth with the other free hand before putting it on your lap. 
“Fuck, I wish I was Jeon Jungkook, that fucking bastard,” he growled, shaking his head. “The fact that that kid is in your house when you took those is not fucking right.” 
Your stomach lurched at the mention of his name. Fuck, you were all over that guy last night. It seemed on the surface that Yoongi knew you did. Maybe perhaps he was in the apartment with you two as your tongue swirled around Jungkook’s, your hands pressed against his stiff, hardened chest as his dick did the same, wanting to fuck you desperately. 
Maybe Yoongi would’ve joined you guys, volunteering his tongue to eat the both of you out. The thought of the both of them fucking you at the same time was getting you feeling a certain type of way, but you shook that nasty thought of yours aside. 
God, you were so fucking toxic for both of them. What the hell are you going to do? You can’t have both of them. 
Can you?
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, laughing quietly to yourself. What a hot mess you were in.
Yoongi heard you and looked at you with a big smirk. You snapped back into your horniness immediately, fantasizing fucking the both of them. Just the idea of the both of them taking turns as you relished in having both was exhilarating for you. 
“Fuck what?” he said in his low voice. “You want to fuck before the gala starts?”
You bit your bottom lip, closing your legs as if you were being shy about it. 
“If you want…” you batted your eyelashes not-so-innocently. “I’ve been missing that fucking tongue of yours.”
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Despite coming later, Jungkook didn’t see you at all. As he craned his neck around the hotel conference room, he didn’t see Yoongi or you. Could it be that you two had skipped it all together? He wondered, but also, that dreadful feeling in his stomach that the two of you were together made him feel sick. 
Of course, he had no idea you were getting eaten out by Yoongi in the backseat of his Mercedes GT in the parking lot, trying to not make much noise as people began to pass by the vehicle. 
What you loved the most was Yoongi’s fixated stare on you as he made sure to get you to orgasm before coming in. You knew how much Yoongi took care of you during sex, and the fact that he was willing to give just showed how much he missed you and wanted you incredibly badly. 
What made you more turned on was the fact that you fantasized about Jungkook watching the both of you through the tinted glass, jerking off just outside of the car. You imagined how much he whined about wanting to get inside to fuck you too, joining in on the action. 
You relished the idea of a threesome, even though you knew the both of them would hate sharing. That turned you on even more as you came in minutes, sloppily kissing the living hell out of Yoongi as a thank you. 
As Yoongi delicately put back your thong in place, you sat up and fixed yourself as he chuckled darkly, wiping his mouth with his suit jacket. You leaned in, fixing the tie that he swept over his shoulder to position himself in front of your spread legs from earlier. 
“You still taste so good babe,” he purred, kissing your lips. Sweeping his tousled hair back with his hand, he opened the door behind him and stepped out the car delicately, extending his hand out after like a chauffeur gesturing to their passenger to get out. 
You giggled, sliding your bottom across the red leather seats as you got out, pulling your dress back down. Grabbing your hand, Yoongi pulled you closer against his frame, smiling widely at you.
“Let’s go in.”
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Your eyes were scanning for Jungkook. You wanted some minutes with him too, and it didn’t take long before you found him in the corner with a drink, eyes already meeting with yours. He looked like a lovesick puppy that needed immediate attention, and you wanted to give that to him. 
As Yoongi gave you a light smooch and excused himself to talk to Thomas Wesley, you snuck toward the back of the room where Jungkook was. As you sultrily strutted toward his direction, Jungkook straightened himself up immediately, clearing his throat as you confidently pushed him against the wall.
“Fuck, what the hell,” Jungkook exclaimed. His eyes widened at your eyes, darkened with sexual desire. 
Before he could say more, you grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the gender neutral bathroom door, whispering in his ear,
“Do you want to finish what we were doing yesterday?”
Jungkook was taken aback by your words, completely speechless. He didn’t know what else to say other than one word of confirmation and there you went, whisking Jungkook away to give him a few minutes of your time.
As you pinned him against the wall and made out with him, you thought of Yoongi banging on the door, demanding to come inside to see the both of you unraveling. Jungkook didn’t take much time to explore your body and specifically, your still very wet and well-licked pussy. 
“You fucking whore,” Jungkook hissed, his fingers rubbing deep in your folds. “Yoongi was here first, wasn’t he?”
“Mm,” you mewled back, putting your arms around his neck. “I decided I want the both of you at the same time, same place…” 
Jungkook’s head was spinning. 
“Fuck you,” he growled, slowly jerking you off. “You’re such a cheater, a fucking whore.”
“Am I?” you moaned back, leaning into his body. You were quivering at how fast Jungkook’s fingers were going as you tugged his belt open, unzipping his pants. “You guys are so hot, how can I not want to be filled up by both of you?”
Jungkook pulled his fingers away and turned you around, bending you over. You gasped sharply as he led you to the sink, your hands on the opposite sides of it. Pushing your thong out of the way and pulling your dress up, he pulled his pants down, showing his hardened dick. 
“Well, let me go first then,” he tapped his dick on the side of your ass as you moaned softly before going into you, filling you up. You gasped loudly as you straightened up with Jungkook putting his arm around your neck, fucking you senselessly. You tried your best not to scream out loud to not alert any of the guests, but fuck, Jungkook was incredibly good. 
He didn’t take that long before he finished cumming on your exposed ass before beginning to fix himself up. As you pulled your dress down, furious knocking was heard on the other side of the door. The both of you cursed quietly to yourself as you went over, hair still slightly out of place as you opened the door slightly to see who it was. 
“Fuck, you had more fun without me?” 
Yoongi scoffed as you closed the door behind you, sheepishly fixing the bottom of your dress. 
“I’m sorry, I guess I’m having a bit too much fun with the both of you,” you laughed lightly as, to your surprise, Yoongi’s lips turned into a smirk. He wasn’t angry. If anything, he was relishing at the idea of the both of them taking turns on you. It was then you remembered how much Yoongi enjoyed public sex in general.
Licking his lips, he pulled you around the waist as he nuzzled your neck. As you two made your way towards your table, he whispered,
“You want another round with me in an hour?” 
Throughout the night, the both of them rotated you around. It was the best that you could manage and soon enough, by the end of the night, you three were back in Yoongi’s Mercedes, having a great time. As Yoongi finished his load in you in the backseat and Jungkook finished himself in the passenger seat, all three of you hummed in satisfaction. You sat back up into Yoongi’s lap as he wrapped his arms around you, leaning against your shoulder.
“Maybe this could work out,” Yoongi broke the silence, chuckling. “I mean, I don’t want to see you fucking her myself, but we can have a little arrangement together.”
“I don’t mind,” Jungkook smirked, pulling up his boxers and pants. “It’s not a bad idea, right?”
You grinned, kissing the both of them separately before responding,
“Yeah. It’s not.”
[END!]
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blublublujk · 3 months
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hello again my loves, i’ve written a big piece of work recently and i’d like to know what you guys prefer. please keep in mind that it is dead dove because there is very dubious consent and an ongoing inappropriate relationship between the two characters which you will find out later what that’s about no big spoilers here (reader x jungkook) but they both want it i promise, even if there seems to be a sorta power imbalance.
anyways, i was going to originally make this a oneshot but she’s grown to the point that she could be split into two-three parts. whatever the majority decides is what i will do. thank you. see you guys veryyy soon. im super excited to release this and hope you guys are ready for the mess that’s about to be unfolded.
tiny, tiny teaser down below :)))))
⚠️ no warnings for now but reminder that this is dead dove so do eat at your own risk.
—> find me also on ao3 and twt
—-
“So pretty, Noona. The prettiest.” Jungkook starts to kiss you again. It starts off a bit slow, but there’s hunger in the way he looks at you. He’s waited so long for this moment, he doesn’t wanna hold back any longer. The younger wants to let it all go tonight. It’s only right. There’s no more hiding, no more secrets. Jungkook was gonna claim what was so rightfully his.
“J-Jungkookie, maybe we should–” The taller licks into your mouth before you can continue and you grow really desperate, feet shuffling from nerves. You need to stop this before it gets any further, before it gets to the point of no return. “Wuh-we should s-stop.”
Jungkook ignores you. He sucks and bites your bottom lip into his mouth and you’re starting to lose sense of everything so quickly. Suddenly, Jungkook’s hand is at your throat again, but he doesn’t squeeze it. He just holds it, kisses around your face with gentle movements. “You have the nerve for sure Noona, don’t you think you owe me an apology. Huh baby?”
“I– I’m sorry.” Jungkook would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on the way you quickly adapted and complied to his will.
He shakes his head, squishing your cute cheeks together, tempted to kiss them both and he does after he’s done speaking. “That simply won’t do. Think that’s enough for everything you’ve done to Daddy? For all the hurt you cause? Get on your knees baby.”
And what else can you do, but drop on your fragile knees. The second your knees hit the hard, cold floor, you whimper in pain.
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taechest · 1 year
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Undressing and devouring their pretty baby ♡
twt | ig
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bulletproofscales · 3 months
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Hey my dude Could you write a lil fic where the maknae line are stressed due to exams or sth and they cope with food so they gradually gain weight but it only gets worse when exams are over bc they get pampered by the hyung line to the point where they break chairs and get stuck in doorways 👉🏻👈🏻 - your Prince Charming 😔🤙🏻
i already wrote something nearly exactly similar with the hyung line! if anyone is interested in reading that click HERE. 
but it was one of my first promtps and i felt like i could do this request more justice by digging into it a little more… it ended up being a 4-month-22k-words fic hope you enjoy!!
also im experimenting with adding my inspiration gifs into the fic, i feel like they add something, to me at least. gif credits will be at the end with links to the ops :) 
(if me answering and writing a prompt from 2019 doesnt give you hope about your request geting eventually finished, idk what will) 
A higher GPA, and a higher BMI
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tags: namkook , chubby jungkook , fat jungkook mindless eating , stuck in furniture , oblivious weight gain , taejin , chubby taehyung , fat taehyung , student - TA relationship , public stuffings, stress eating , outgrowing clothes ,  sopemin , established relationship sope , chubby jimin , fat jimin , spoiling , breaking furtniture , confessions , miscommunication 
22k words 
AO3 LINK
Already having graduated college, Namjoon Seokjin Yoongi and Hoseok guarantee to help their younger friends with anything they need to hopefully get through this semester as smoothly as possible. 
Jimin Jungkook and Taehyung didn’t mean to push that guarantee to the extreme. 
Jungkook gravitated to Namjoon for help. STEM majors gotta stick together and all that. They weren’t exactly the same, but a lot of their classes overlapped at least at the early years that Jungkook finds himself in. So it wasn’t uncommon to find the two at the maknae’s shared apartment late at night hunched over a pile of exercise sheets and past exams. 
It wasn’t always like this though, Jungkook started college as valedictorian, top of his class effortlessly getting honors and getting into his dream school for bioengineering. But that confidence would be his downfall because nothing could’ve prepared him for the massive effort that you’re supposed to put into a college major. His first ruthlessly failed exam needing an emergency call to Namjoon from Jungkook’s two roommates for him to come and console the poor boy. Easy enough to do if you’re Jungkook’s personal hero. But a bigger problem was brewing for the younger that Namjoon wouldn’t be entirely sure how to tackle. 
Said problem being: a very suddenly anxious Jungkook, unsure of his own skill and unable to figure out how to properly study in a way that ensures this never ever happens to him. 
“Kook-ah, you know what you need to know for the exam.” Namjoon tries. “You will be okay.” His hand sits on Jungkook’s bouncing knee, settling it. He can at least do that. 
“But what if I forget? What if I get so nervous I can’t recall everything I studied. And all my effort goes to waste-” He is spiraling. Namjoon can see him spiraling, he says the first thing that comes to mind. 
“Get up. We are getting dinner.” He stands up, leaving behind a puzzled Jungkook. Groggy from lack of sleep, puffy from stress, hair a fluffy mess from running his hands through it. He looks adorable, and he is wordlessly looking for an explanation. “You’re not gonna get any sleep locked up in here.” 
“I do need to sleep tonight.” Jungkook mumbles more to himself, and Namjoon is a bit concerned about the way the younger says ‘tonight’ like it’s the exception. But he chooses not to comment on it. 
“Exactly, let’s go. Hyung’s treat.” His smile grows on his face, he’s got him hooked and out of the house; and that’s what matters. Jungkook really does have this class figured out, they’ve been at it for hours and Jungkook has been at it for weeks. Continuous days of sleepless nights, Namjoon is sure if he gets as much as one beer into his system, Jungkook will sleep like a baby. 
The decision is simple, something that’s walking distance because Namjoon can’t drive. The shoebox-sized fried chicken place across the street from Jungkook’s apartment. As soon as they walk in, Jungkook is groaning behind him. “I’m starving!” 
It earns a squinted glare from Namjoon over his shoulder. “When was the last time you ate?” 
“Do fingernails count?” 
“Sit down.” Namjoon is nearly tugging at the younger’s sleeve, guiding him to a booth. Trying to be menacing but Jungkook’s giggles show that he is unsuccessful. Too much endearment in Jungkook’s eyes when he looks at Namjoon for it to work. 
The place is nearly empty except for them both and some of the wandering staff. Namjoon didn’t think to check what time it was, or if their kitchen was even open still. And, call it his papa bear instinct, he is not leaving until he gets some food for Namjoon to eat. Fortunately when he calls the water, it’s all good news, he lets Jungkook take over what he wants. Since Namjoon ate the recommended amount of food today, he already had dinner. 
But he’ll share a beer with Jungkook. You know, in solidarity. 
Once they’re out of that stuffy apartment, it’s easy to fill the conversation with literally anything else that isn’t Jungkook’s exam. Feeling warmth spread along his chest at Jungkook’s whole demeanor lightening up. But he hasn’t seen the best of it yet, bunny grin spreading across his face when the chicken is set in front of them. 
“You sure you don’t want any?” His eyes are already eating the glistening chicken, but Jungkook quickly glances up at Namjoon. 
“No, no. I might steal some but I’m not hungry.” It does look like Jungkook ordered for two. But it’s nothing they can’t take home with them. “All yours, Kook.” He smiles, feeling genuine comfort at the sight of Jungkook pretty much launching onto his meal. 
The conversation does die a little inevitably. Jungkook isn’t giving himself much room to talk. He isn’t giving himself room to breathe. Bringing the plate close to his chest for his chopsticks to shovel the biggest mouthfuls his lips can possibly stretch to accommodate. Namjoon wouldn’t be able to ‘steal some of it’ even if he wanted to. Eyes wide as he takes the next bite, but they always close to enjoy the flavourful bites, signature frown letting Namjoon know that the younger is absolutely loving his food. 
Well, it’s nearly animalistic rather than blissful. Some of the caramelized coating of the chicken already staining Jungkook’s lips orange, and it’s beginning to cling to the corners of his mouth and some of his cheeks too; in the particularly huge bites. Not holding back any of the pleasure noises he lets out, because they all get muffled and swallowed by the food. 
The first few dishes licked clean in a matter of minutes.  A burp coaxing its way out of his mouth before he even sets the last empty plate down. 
“Aish… Manners, Jungkook.”  Namjoon feels a blush make his face all warm, as he chuckles through his scolding. 
“I told you I was starving.” He mumbles already bringing up the beer, the one that he had left abandoned as soon as the food was served. Cutting his own speech short with thick gulps of beer. “Ah-” Jungkook manages to close his lips to swallow the burp that comes immediately after. “Can I get some more?” 
It’s Namjoon’s turn to widen a bit beyond endearment. “Aren’t you full?” There’s a confused smile on his face, met with an uncharacteristic serious expression on Jungkook’s face. 
“I really don’t wanna go home yet. I can make more room.”  He sees it again, that fear and anxiety in Jungkook’s big guilty eyes. Namjoon acts on instinct, raising his arm for the waiter to see. 
“Jeogiyo! Another serving of spicy chicken please!” The waiter nods quickly. He shoots a warm smile to Jungkook who is looking gratefully back at him. “And two more beers.” 
Jungkook is determined in everything he does, Namjoon finds out. Even finishing every last crumb of this second serving.  Even as the frown on his face stops manifesting his appreciation for the flavor, but the effort of trying to fit all this food in. Taking a few more beer breaks to possibly wash down the greasy lump that must be forming in his throat. Though that must only make it worse, if the way his cheeks expand in swallowed burps is anything to go by. 
The same silence from Jungkook’s first devouring fills the table, though this time much painfully longer. And without any of the younger’s delighted enjoyment, instead a demonstration of pure… gluttony? Avoidance? Namjoon doesn’t even know what to call it. 
A struggle, is what it is. And Namjoon can’t seem to look away. Eyes following how Jungkook begins to eat with only one hand, the other one mysteriously disappearing under the table. The older can only guess it’s to ease the tension that must be forming at his stomach. 
Obviously already full, but he doesn’t cease until the last piece of chicken forced its way past his lips, at this point chewing slowly and lethargic. His blinking prolonged and sleepy. But he seals the deal by taking his beer and drinking the last few sips of it. Groaning immediately after he swallowed the last gulp. Noise that’s a little coaxed out by the burp that follows straight after. Leaning back on his seat, only his heavy breathing filling the silence. 
“How are you feeling?” Namjoon asks. 
“Ready to pop.” The younger chuckles sleepy. Namjoon was expecting something more along the lines of his emotional state for the exam. But this works too. 
“Want hyung to walk you home?” He can’t help but smile a bit, that blush from both fullness and alcohol on Jungkook’s cheeks, and his pouty greasy lips, it’s incredibly endearing. 
“Yeah… yeah I’ll fall asleep if we stay here.” Both his hands are on the table now, helping himself stand up. Revealing to Namjoon the sight Jungkook had been hiding under the table all their meal. A round cute, slightly reddened, bloat, that pushes the waistband of his sweatpants down; exposed by the shirt, that Jungkook seems to have folded upwards for a better rub. 
Namjoon can’t help but look at it, it’s right in front of his face! 
Looks tight. Small but packed to the brim. He wonders what it feels like to touch. 
The thing to snap him out of his trance is Jungkook unfolding his shirt right back to cover his ballooned stomach. “Do you want anything else?” The younger askes a bit puzzled. Right, Namjoon is still sitting. Still in perfect line of sight with Jungkook’s cute little bloat. 
“No no, sorry. I’m tired too.” He chuckles a bit through his excuse, standing up quickly and calling the waiter to take their bill. Ended up spending more than he anticipated. Namjoon wasn’t expecting Jungkook to order enough chicken for 3 and drink enough beer for him, Namjoon and the other few people in the restaurant. 
Though it’s worth it for the way Jungkook tiredly leans to him as they walk across the street back to his apartment. Not doubting for a second before wrapping his arm around the younger’s shoulders. Keeping it there all through the elevator ride. Feeling particularly accomplished at the way Jungkook nuzzles his neck, feeling his smile against his warm skin. 
His roommates, Jimin and Taehyung, give them a look from the living room; as Namjoon basically guides a half-asleep Jungkook to his room. A blush creeping on the older’s cheeks at the implications.
“H–he ate a lot of chicken.” Namjoon smiles with a nervous chuckle attached to the end of his sentence. 
“If the police come asking we won’t tell.” Taehyung snickers from the couch. As he continues to help Jungkook to his bed. He plops on it like dead weight but he is sleepily smiling up at Namjoon.
“Thanks, hyung.” His voice is still a little thick with grease. Eyes beaming even with bags under them. Just from the slight shift of movement to nuzzle his bed, Jungkook’s shirt is riding up again. A sliver of skin and the ballooned little tummy that pushes against the fabric. 
Namjoon diverts his eyes back to the younger’s face. “Anytime, Kook. Really.” He lets his hand comb through the fluffed up long hair of the younger. “I like seeing you so relaxed for a change.” Namjoon smiles down at him and is rewarded with melodic, slightly tipsy, giggling. “Rest up, okay?” 
“Yes.” 
“You’ll do great tomorrow.” 
“Yes, hyung.” He is already closing his eyes. And Namjoon has to hold back an endeared chuckle. Not bothering to say another word as he quietly leaves the sleeping Jungkook behind. 
It’s about the early afternoon, after what Namjoon imagines is a harrowing exam experience, that he gets a text from Jungkook. 
kook: that dinner worked like MAGIC hyung 
kook: that might have been the best night sleep i had 
kook: NOT EVEN IN EXAMS EASON JUST IN GENERAL
Namjoon wasn’t trying to give life saving advice. Mostly just panicked in an attempt to get Jungkook out of the house. But the relief he feels is too much for him to even feel like a fraud. 
Though it really must’ve worked like a charm. Because he doesn’t get another text from Jungkook for the entirety of exam season. It’s a change of pace to get a text from the younger that isn’t anxiety-ridden, a change that Namjoon entirely welcomes. 
kook: namjoonie hyung
kook: i miss you
kook: come with me to a cafe to study? 
A smile is already splitting his face. 
you: oh i’d love to! but i actually graduated 2 years ago 😅 thanks tho
kook: -_- 
kook: come work or something 
kook: since when are you turning down opportunities to be at a little nice coffee shop with ambiance and good french toast? 
kook: don’t you have anything to work on? 
He can’t help the smile growing on his face. He gets so defensive, as if Namjoon could ever say no to him. And he has some lyrics he’s been wanting to clean up. Though he won’t tell Jungkook, he doesn’t want to remind the younger of his… artist name. 
No matter how many times Jungkook says that Rap Mon was the sole reason he ever approached the older in college, Namjoon refuses to believe it. 
you: sure i’ll find something~ 
kook: you play so hard to get. 
Namjoon would think he sounded annoyed if he didn’t send the coffee shop place and the time to be there. With his headphones, laptop and little lyric notebook he makes sure to be there. 
As most times, Jungkook epsters him for a reason. The place does have a beautiful ambience, and the smell of coffee and baked goods smells divine and the place is filled with mostly one person tables of people buried in their work. He spots Jungkook pretty easily, in one of the booths with an arrangement of what, from Namjoon’s personal experience, he imagines are exercise guides, the obscenely big calculator, and his glasses on, hair up in a bun. 
Cute. 
He must’ve been here for a while longer than Namjoon, if the few clean plates are anything to go by. Jungkook doesn’t notice the older, like everyone else, completely engulfed in what he is doing. 
“You could’ve told me to come ehre earlier.” He chuckles without malice, making Jungkook perk up. 
“Oh! I just got here like 20 minutes ago. I got off class early.” So he ate all this in 20 minutes? “Hi to you too by the way.” He says through pursed lips. A dimpled grin splits Namjoon’s face. 
“Hi, Jungkook. I missed you.” His words are particularly sweet and genuine, just to get a smile out of him. And it works, it always works. 
“You should order something, I picked a place with good salty options for you.” He says smugly. 
“So thoughtful, Kook.” Namjoon sighs dreamily, picking the abandoned menu from the corner of the table. And he is right, he already sees an avocado toast that catches his eye. But when the waiter comes to them to take Namjoon’s order, Jungkook is talking again. 
“I’ll get another latte and one of the cinnamon rolls.” He smiles politely to the waiter, Namjoon has to get over the fact that he is ordering more at all. 
“And… an avocado toast and an americano.” Namjoon recovers smoothly. The waiter looks a little surprised too. If Jungkoko really got here just 20 minutes ago like he says, then yeah, anyone would be surprised he is getting… (Namjoon counts the plates), fourths already. 
Regardless he nods and walks away. Namjoon starts setting up ready to get to work. Though in the silence it seems like Jungkook feels the need to explain himself. 
“That was my lunch.” 
“Oh?”
“This is… dessert.” A smile grows at the sudden seriousness in Jungkook’s tone. 
“Okay.” He says a bit amused, a small chuckle bubbling at the back of his throat. “You can eat as much as you want.” He offers a gentler look, only because there’s a tint to Jungkook’s cheeks. The younger smiles back before they fall into comfortable silence. Only interrupted by their food, and then, quiet eating noises with the subtle scribbling of their paper. 
Until Jungkook is done with his order, then he calls the waiter again. For more food. And Namjoon is getting a proper view of what happened in those first 20 minutes that Jungkook arrived before him. Practically scarfing down the plates without even glancing at them. The hand that isn’t scribbling obscenely long equations onto the paper, reaches for the food. Clumsily, his lips stretching and trying to catch the food without taking his eyes off the exercise. Only lifting his face when he is done and needs to call the waiter for more. Though, the entire staff seems to be alert of Jungkook. 
Is this not the first time he is doing this? 
Namjoon tries not to think about it, but what were once quiet eating noises turn louder the messier it gets. So he can’t ignore it, and at some point he just starts to wonder how much can Jungkook pack in? The stack of plates next to his pencil case is obscene, like something out of an eating contest. One that only Jungkook knows about, and he’s been practicing months to get a head started on.
Because, Namjoon has hung out a lot with him, and even when he was a freshman in college, Jungkook could never eat this much. Not even when the dreadful freshman 15 are supposed to hit. He is so acutely aware of Jungkook’s eating, Namjoon does not manage to do any work that day; not a single verse. Maybe for the better, since he spares himself from Jungkook’s teasing. 
But it’s a long couple of hours. Namjoon knows he could’ve gotten up at any time, they’re just keeping eachother company. Yet, he finds that he can’t quite bring himself to stop stealing glances at the younger, catching him sometimes halfway through stretching his lips around a bite, or even already licking his fingers clean obscenely before reaching for another handful of food. Namjoon is transfixed in this cycle of looking up just to quickly divert his eyes away, though he doubts Jungkook even notices him there. 
Alas, when he finishes his exercise guide, he proudly punches the table grinning. “Done.” He states a bit breathless, which has probably something to do with the massacre of plates beside him. And it’s not even the whole thing, as the staff took the initiative to start taking away the plates as they piled up besides Jungkook. “I can’t look at another one of these or my brain will pop.”
Namjoon has to hold back from saying he imagines there will be another organ of his popping soon. “Yeah I’m all out of juice too.” He says instead, resigned. He is not getting any progress, not today. After fighting for who covers the check, and Namjoon successfully wins, they’re packing their things. 
Only then, does he get to see the impact of Jungkook’s new coping method for stress. When the younger stands up from his chair, without the table covering him anymore and reveals the rest of his body. Namjoon comes eye to eye with Jungkook’s newfound pudgy middle. A belly that hangs just a bit over the waistband of his pants, with a shirt that clings to the pillowy fat; hem barely brushing his bottom roll. As if a wrong movement would make it ride up the gentle curve of his stomach. Tight enough that the dent of his belly button shows through the stretched fabric, clinging fully to the muffin top on his hips and putting full display of the thickness of his waist. 
Having him stood up while Namjoon still sits makes it even clearer that it’s not just his belly that softened, but all of him. His chest rounded out and pushed slightly forward; perky chest and slightly puffy nipples. Something Namjoon maybe would have noticed if it weren’t for Jungkook’s chronically awful posture. Stretching the shirt at the very top. Along with his arms, clinging to the short sleeves without all the definition that Namjoon had gotten used to, instead softer and thicker. And his double chin, from this angle it was evident. Face looked rounder more than ever with the padding under his jaw clear as day as Jungkook looked down to smile at the older. 
“Not enough juice to even get up?” Jungkook retorts and snaps Namjoon out of his trance. 
“Y-yeah yeah sorry.” He stands up quickly, quickly enough that he nearly knocks into the table a bit. Earning a deserved chuckle from the younger, and a flustered huff from Namjoon. “Shush, or I’m making you drive me.” 
“I was gonna offer to drive you anyway. Come on.” 
He doesn’t miss the slight heavy breathing form Jungkook as they walk to the car, and the quiet sigh when he sits on the driver’s seat; he tries to ignore it at least. But Jungkook makes it extra hard to look away when the hand that isn’t steering the wheel cupped the bottom of his belly. Thumb digging into the layer of pudge to reach the bloat, in slow circular motions. 
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“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this relaxed while studying.” He says, and it’s genuine! Jungkook has a satisfied smile on his face, Namjoon remembers when he had to pry the younger away from the exercise guides and coax him to eat a meal.
Definitely doesn’t have any of those problems anymore. 
“You helped for sure.” 
“Please, you were in the zone even before I got there.” 
“No. No I mean like, the tip. The tip you gave me all that time ago?” Namjoon’s puzzled look must speak for itself. “You know, eating before an exam, eating while studying. Like we did last time.” 
He doesn’t distinctly remember giving Jungkook that advice, but it shows all over his body. And his smile is so proud of himself, the one that reminds Namjoon of an underclassmen highschooler telling him he wanted to go to college for biology just like Namjoon. Just to impress him.
Namjoon simply doesn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise. 
In fact, Namjoon doesn’t have the heart to tell him anything else on the matter. Anything that isn’t encouragement. Even when Jungkook isn’t in exam season, he’s become so food motivated; it makes sense to offer him treats during the semester, just to keep him on track…
It makes sense for Namjoon to do that.
Of course. 
Snatching him during the week for study cafes, and bringing beer to all their late night study sessions… They’re all for the sake of Jungkook’s education. 
In the back of his mind, of course, he thinks his genuine encouragement might have gotten out of hand. But it’s worth it for the starch difference in Jungkook’s grades, and overall mood. Going through his classes with ease, as well as going through bags of snacks during said lectures. Through the rest of the year it only got worse, Namjoon knows this, but… Jungkook seems so happy. 
These are some of the thoughts he has to debate with every time he goes to Jungkook’s for another study session. Tonight is no different. Going up the stairs to the younger’s apartment to support Jungkook in the midst of exam season. Though at this point, Namjoon isn’t entirely sure if he is of service anymore. 
But if he isn’t of service, that means he has to face what other reason he could be joining Jungkook so often for. 
And Namjoon simply doesn’t have time for that, he just arrived at Jungkook’s place. Box of brownies in hand. Store bought, Jungkook’s favorite (for some reason). 
“Hyung!” His smile remains just as bright as any other day that Namjoon shows up for support. 
The rest of Jungkook though… It’s unrecognizable. 
In a year, the student’s new “study method” took a toll on Jungkook’s body. The frame that opened the door for Namjoon was close to being as wide as the door frame itself. His waist thickened to the point it buried any trace of Jungkook’s former dainty waist, thick rolls stacking along his sides, staring with jiggly love handles and finishing at the top with, what Namjoon could only describe as, the weight of his moobs beginning to overspill from the sides, beginning to sag to the sides with rounded softened nipples that constantly push against all his shirt. Pushing his arms to the sides, both of them fattened as well, softened without any of its former impressive muscle; they wobbled gently when he scribbled on paper. 
As soon as he opens the door, his belly threatens to push through the threshold on its own, stretching forward in a slope. Slightly firmer at the top and center of it, but surrounded with pillowy and sagging downwards over the waistband of his pants. Overhang girthy and making most of Jungkook’s shirts ride up as he walks. Always shifting in his chairs trying to push his shirt down from behind and then from the front, before he inevitably gives up. It folds into hefty rolls whenever he sits down, taking room on his lap. The fact his legs fattened so much too doesn’t help, pooling out of every chair he sits on, ass wobbling with each step of the stairs that he’s taken Namjoon to their apartment. 
His face… probably the only thing that stayed the same. Cheeks just rounding out cutely, making his face impossibly more of a circle when he grins, bright and heartwarming. With the addition of a bit of padding hanging off his once sharp jawline, into a squishy double chin. 
“Hey Kook.” He says before his staring becomes too obvious. “I bought some motivation.” Namjoon smiles, proudly patting the brownie box. 
“How did you know I was craving these?!” The younger whines thankful, as he steps aside to let Namjoon in. 
“You’re always craving the worst quality brownie in the market.” 
“Hey! There’s definitely ones worse than this! There’s always the cafeteria ones.” Namjoon is already making his way to the dining table. Guided by the scattered papers and books that are already taking over the surface. 
“Second worst, then.” He gives in with a fond smile, like he always does. Taking a seat in front of Jungkook. Who makes the poor IKEA chair creak when he takes a seat on it. “Does that make you feel better about yourself?”
“Immensely.” His shit-eating-grin isn’t any less endearing. 
“What are we studying today?” Namjoon cuts him off instead, only for Jungkook to start showing him the exercises he’s been having trouble with. Wordlessly and poutily. “Oh… oh I remember hating these.” The older’s face scrunches at the memory. 
“I know… It’s gonna take a lot of brownies to get me through this.” Jungkook sulks. And right, because they’ve been implementing a new system. As well as the plethora of “study snacks” that Jungkook mindlessly gorges on while working, there’s the reward snacks. The ones Namjoon keeps out of his reach only to give him when he finishes something. 
It’s been so long, Namjoon doesn’t exactly remember how it started. All he knows is Jungkook is too dependent on it now to go back to not getting snacks as rewards now. 
“Just start with this one.” He points to one of the exercises on his study guide. Before picking up the brownie box and giving it a gentle shake. “There’s enough for the entire syllabus.” That’s the thing that makes Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with newfound motivation. Wordlessly taking the guide and his notebook before starting to quietly scribble down. 
It was about 10 minutes, Namjoon using that time to revise Jungkook’s notes and get accustomed with the subject again. But, fast as ever, Jungkook slides the resolved exercise. “Let’s see.” Namjoon mumbles adjusting his glasses, feeling the younger’s eyes glued to him, switching from Namjoon’s reaction to the unopened brownie box. “This one is good!” He chirps, but it’s nothing compared to the full body beam Jungkook gives him, reaching for the brownie 
The cycle repeats endlessly. Jungkook is a skilled diligent student, Namjoon isn’t entirely sure why the younger keeps inviting him over to study, almost never fully needing to ask questions. If there ever is a mistake, once Namjoon points it out, it is like something clicks in Jungkook’s mind. Entitle up to speed with the older. 
The brownie box is emptying quickly. And Namjoon feels entirely useless, yet he can’t find himself to say it outloud. Not when Jungkook is in front of him with crumbs all over his cheeks and chest, chocolate clinging to the corners of his lips. And the hand that isn’t writing down is under the table mysteriously. Or well… It hasn’t been a mystery since that time at the coffee shop. 
Another exercise done, Namjoon isn’t even done revising it before he catches a hand reach to the brownie box from the corner of his eyes. In a reflex the older reaches for it faster and brings it towards himself. “Ah ah ah, don’t get cocky. You don’t know if it’s correct or not.” He has a teasing smile, and Jungkook looks startled for a second, as if he had done it unconsciously, before smiling back. 
“I’m pretty sure it is, hyung.” As he says it his hand reaches for the box again. And Namjoon has to bring it further back; this time with the glint of competitiveness that the younger always inspires from him. 
“Not until I say so.” He’s finished reading, he knows it’s correct. But still, he holds the box away from Jungkook’s grasp, with a playful smile that the younger mimics. This isn’t about the exercise, not anymore. Jungkook tries to reach further from the table, leaning out of his chair. Just for Namjoon to react quicker than ever leaning back. From Jungkook’s angle, Namjoon can see the way the top of his belly is sinking into the edge of the table. Softer chest sagging barely against his shirt. 
He can see Jungkook beginning to prepare to lean closer. And when Namjoon stands up already grinning from ear to ear, ready to possibly be chased by the younger. 
And when Jungkook launches at him… He can’t. Namjoon’s smile fades a little, as he watches Jungkook try again. His own expression cracking into disbelief as he looks down at himself. Realization dawning on both of them slowly. 
Jungkook is stuck in the chair. 
The room feels death quiet, Jungkook clears his throat looking down at himself, hands gripping the armrests. Now that he is standing, Namjoon can see the way they’re digging into his fatty sides. And tries to push them down. Making his body ripple with each try. 
Namjoon feels a little petrified where he stands. Before pleading doe eyes look his way. “A little help?!” Jungkook whines, snapping the older from the trance he was in. 
“Fuck sorry.” Namjoon chuckles a bit nervously before rushing to him. “Come on, let’s get you out.” He mumbles getting behind Jungkook, fingers gripping into the legs of the chair and begin to tug backwards. 
“Yes!” Jungkook groans. With each tug his apron belly slap against his lap. “I really really want that brownie!” He throws his head back whining pathetically. As if everything in his body didn’t scream that he had one brownie box too many. 
Namjoon is grunting behind him, but it won’t budge. “Has this happened before?!” He can’t help his desperate tone. And Jungkook throws an insulted look over his shoulder. 
“No?! You think I would’ve sat here if I got stuck already!?” 
“I don’t, but it looks like this chair is three sizes small, Kook.” He chuckles a bit, slowly getting the chair off the curve of his plump love handles. Both of the younger’s hands are on the table, pushing his ass to Namjoon in an attempt to collaborate. 
“I’ve been studying in my room a lot!” Jungkook’s voice gets higher pitched as he whines. Making Namjoon more forceful until he stumbles back. Flimsy wooden chair in his hands as he frees Jungkook. 
“Ha!” He is a little breathless but victorious still. “Freedom.” Namjoon punches the air. Before noticing Jungkook’s silence. 
He is eating another brownie. Namjoon guesses, the one Jungkook thought was owed to him for getting that exercise right. But then he is grabbing another one while still munching on the previous brownie. And his other hand is grabbing another one after that. 
“What are those supposed to be for?” Namjoon crosses his arms with a teasing smile. 
“Emotional reparations.” 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Taehyung hates critique day. Which sucks. Because in an art major, every day is critique day. He knew what he was getting into, of course he knew. Taehyung just didn’t expect to feel so personally about his art. 
Though, he knows how to behave. Of course he doesn’t make a scene, and he takes all the critiques. But his frustrations end up manifesting elsewhere. 
It’s not even his turn, there’s another 10 people before him. But Taehyung’s thumb is already against his lips. Teeth anxiously nipping at his cuticles. He doesn’t think his art is beyond critiquing, of course not. That’s the whole reason he is majoring in art. But he pours so much of himself into each piece, vulnerable and grotesquely intimate. It’s so hard to expose in front of everyone, relating the quality of his art directly to his own value as a person. 
What if what he is saying is overdone? A cliche experience that everyone goes through and is not worthy of being represented through art. Or worse, what if it’s too much? Too personal and private to expose in a room full of strangers. What if these types of things should be left for the little epigraph under a painting for only the willing to read? Instead of stating it proudly as a defense for the homework you did in front of a bunch of strangers- 
A hand places gently on his wrists, warm. Cutting the middle of his rampant spiral. Taehyung still has his fingers grazing against his lips when he turns to see the hand owner, his upperclassman and TA, Seokjin. Who has a patient smile on his face that seems like he can read all of Taehyung’s thoughts. 
“If you’re gonna nip on anything, have this.” He whispers as to not call attention to them while the professor gives her critiques to another student. Taehyung’s hand is lowered gently and a candy bar is placed on it. His jaw drops, looking at it before looking up at Seokjin; who looks even smug about it. 
“Thanks.” Even if his response is short, the admiration and gratitude must show on his face, because the older has to stifle a laugh. Taehyung doesn’t waste another second ripping open the package and bringing it to his lips. 
Being able to press these anxieties onto the crunchy bar feels too relieving. The delicious nutty flavor is an amazing bonus. Taehyung can’t hold back from finishing it in only a few hurried bites. Relishing in the way his thoughts are taken over by the small snack, instead of his sprinting anxieties. And then he is pushing the last of it with his fingers, only realizing he hasn’t taken a single moment to enjoy the candy bar once he is gulping the last bite. And he isn’t even close to having to expose his artwork. 
Does he go back to panicking? It feels like he should- Correction, it feels like he is. 
Unconsciously, his hand is already reaching for his lips when Seokjin intercepts it again. Another candy bar in hand. Making Taehyung’s eyebrows fly to the roof. 
“I get cravings during the day, okay? Don’t look so judgy.” Seokjin defends himself whispering, but his smile gives away that he didn’t take it too personally. 
“I don’t wanna waste your stash, don’t you have some gum?” It’s the younger’s turn to hold in his giggles. 
His TA’s face scrunches up. “I don’t like mint.” 
“You are weird.” Taehyung says with a smile, hands already focusing on tearing the wrapper apart. Seokjin is rolling his eyes, while the younger is stifling his giggle with the first bite. He wordlessly passes Taehyung his backpack so lay by the student’s side where he is sat. Opened already and showing the plethora of candy bars and different snacks stashed in there. 
How is this man so fit?! Taehyung rather brings the backpack closer to his side with his leg, as he’s already working through the second candy bar. He really tried to space it out and enjoy it a bit. But he still finished it in the span of only one student getting their critique. Only throwing a pleading glance at Seokjin, whose eyes are already on Taehyung with a patient nod, he is reaching deep in the bag for another one. Without looking into the bag, it really does feel like he has the entire thing full to the brim. 
He pulls another one out, this time not so worried in making sure he makes it last throughout the like, 8 other people who have critiques before Taehyung. And he doesn’t. But his hand is already reaching for the bag without a second thought. He is sure Seokjin will be fine without 3 or 4 of his bars. The supply feels so endless he doesn’t even keep track. 
Letting the candy bar wrappers pile around him, it doesn’t take long before a warm feeling starts to set on the bottom of his stomach. Blood circulation his stomach as it digests all that chocolate, peanut butter, and whatever else they put on them. It’s making him sleepy, but Taehyung welcomes the feeling with open arms, sedating him from all his anxieties. Mind too lethargic to worry, and hands too busy on the slight bloat of his tummy to reach for his teeth to nip at them. Taehyung doesn’t even notice when his time for the critique comes, catching him half way through a snickers bar. That he brushes to his lap, along with all the other wrappers that piled on his desk around his art piece. 
The warmth emanating from his stomach is enough to even make him feel more soothed as he explains his piece. Something Taehyung had been struggling with since he got his first critique, and he realizes he can’t in fact be perfect at something from the get go; like he had unconsciously hoped for. Not this time though, he has a calm tone as he explains the inner workings and reasonings behind his assignment. And he doesn’t know if it’s that, or if this piece is particularly good, or if his lethargic mind is playing tricks on his perception of the world, but the critiques don’t seem as bad as they usually are. 
The rest of the class passes by in a blurr. And he has Seokjin to thank for it. 
And he does! Walking up to the TA once everyone starts walking out. 
“Sorry about almost emptying your bag.” He smiles shyly. “But I really never felt that relaxed during a critique, ever.” 
“Don’t mention it, I know it took me ages to get used to it.” His smile is patient as ever, Taehyung is beginning to wonder if it was this charming from the beginning of the semester. 
“And what did you do then?” If he is tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, it’s nobody’s business. 
“I was bringing entire boxes worth of snacks.” Seokjin giggles. “Really took my freshman 15 to a whole new level.” 
If Taehyung lets his eyes go up and down Seokjin’s body with a smile, then maybe it’s a little bit of his TA’s business. “Doesn’t look like you have them on you right now.” 
Seokjin smiles with a bit more confidence. Taehyung has never prided himself in his subtlety. “I told you I got used to the critiques, didn’t I?” If the older takes a step closer, Taehyung’s heart has no business pitter pattering this way. “Now I just keep a stash in case anyone is getting a little panicky.” Taehyung is about to object, but Seokjin anticipates it. “Happens more often than you think!” 
“Sure it does.” His arms are folding over his chest, but it’s not as defensive as it is flirty. Seokjin seems to notice. 
“You can just say thank you.” The fact his tone gets even cockier should not be as attractive as Taehyung is making it out to be. 
“If it manages to calm my nerves consistently. Then you’ll get your thank you.” It feels like they’re standing much closer than when Taehyung first walked up to him to thank the TA. But he is leaving with a lot more. 
“Keep me updated then.” Seokjin smiles unfaced. 
“I will.” 
And Taehyung leaves that class with an entirely different feeling of nerves than the one he walked in with; much giddier too. Though, airhead at heart, he notices he forgot to ask Seokjin for his number; and Taehyung definitely won’t be flirting through their school emails, and finding his social media and dming him is out of the question. Taeyung has some dignity left, thank you very much. 
Instead, he limits himself to keep Seokjin’s memory alive in his mind every time he has a class where he has to present some of his artwork. Stocking up on a bagful of snacks for him to work his way through until he gets his critique. Mostly figuring out what’s the right amount, since that first time he only ever started snacking about 2/3rds of the the class in, so naturally Taehyung has more time to fill if he is starting to eat from the get go. But also, he can’t get too full too early! Because then the feeling could possibly wash off in the span of his 4 hour courses. 
Though the most exciting part of his week was trying out what he enjoyed snacking on the most. What offered that warm hazy sensation that Taehyung was seeking, what settled best on his tummy, and what was most appropriate for class. He is not making the same mistake of bringing some chips and spicy sauce to class; not only making a lot of noise, but having the spice make his stomach gurgle and churn as he held back from farting in class. 
After extensive research, Taehyung found out that sweets were the best option. Fluffy and noiseless, and perfectly filling. Instead of cramping to fit them into his bag, Taehyung proudly walks into class with a bakery box that sits on his lap. They’re bigger and more filling than candy bars, just (if not more) as delicious. And Taehyung plops it open as soon as the first student begins to expose. He is able to make them last the entire class, chewing unhurried but constantly throughout. Taehyung’s always had an appetite, but he always brings enough to end up with both hands under his desk on his bloated tummy, and a fuzzy feeling of fullness. 
It’s only been two weeks, but Taehyung really does feel like he owes Seokjin a thank you. He thinks to himself as he walks into the classroom where Seokjin assists. The younger considered talking to him after class, but he finds the TA’s eyes on him… Probably due to the bakery box he brings with him into the classroom. Taehyung quite frankly, had already naturalized the snacks he has been bringing with him to most classes. Completely forgetting that Seokjin only comes to help out once every two weeks. 
“I take it you’re trying out my advice?” Seokjin catches him as Taehyung walks to his usual desk. 
“Trying it? I’ve already adopted it.” He sits down and smiles up at Seokjin. “I haven’t been this relaxed ever since I got into art.” Taehyung leans back into his chair, smug, before beaming. “And look at this!” His hand wiggles his fingers daintily in front of Soekjin’s face, his eyes crossing a bit to get a better look at the sight. 
With perfectly healthy cuticles. 
He gently takes Taehyung’s hand into his. Thumb rubbing up and down his middle finger; making the younger’s insides churn. “Wow… Look at you.” His tone is a little teasing, but his smile is endeared. Though, Taehyung can only focus on the world around him again, once the TA has let his hand go. “What’s on today’s menu?” 
“Cinnamon rolls, some red velvet slices…” He purses his lips. And shies a bit when he sees Seokjin’s eyebrows reach his hairline. “And–and just a few more things. Can’t remember.” 
“Certainly a lot more than those 5 snicker bars you ate last time.” This time there isn’t much endearment in Seokjin’s smile. Taehyung widens. 
It was only 5?!  He had felt so overwhelmingly full back then… 
Now it wouldn’t come close to doing the job. 
“I always had an appetite.” He shrugs with pouty lips. “I was just guilty of eating too much of your stash.” Taehyung excuses himself with arms crossed over his chest. 
“I’m glad you’re bringing your own then.” Seokjin chuckles, making Taehyung worry if he even believes the younger’s excuse. “This is definitely more than all of my stash.” He eyes the big bakery box on Taehyung’s desk, and looks up with a smile that doesn’t say the full truth; the younger’s cheeks burn a little warmer. 
But he doesn’t get to say the last word, the professor is calling Seokjin over; who only offers a wide grin before ushering to her desk. 
This interaction definitely echoes in Taehyung’s mind, only silenced with the first few bites of the cinnamon roll. But not entirely, since flashes of Seokjin’s teasing smile as he eyed Taehyung’s portion size creeps on him. Catching him mid-bite, with his lips stretched, buttercream coating his lips and red velvet crumbs already beginning to fall onto his lap. His cheeks blushed everytime. All that nonchalance he had these two weeks, acquiring this habit, unbothered by the weird stares, suddenly shifted into self awareness when Taehyung sensed the TA’s eyes on him. 
Taehyung didn’t dare look to check; he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he actually caught Seokjin staring at him making a pig out of himself in class. Maybe he was just deluding himself and the older was nowhere near paying him attention. Why would he be? They barely know each other. 
All this just represented more thoughts for Taehyung to have to silence with food. Or at least try to. Determined to silence his feelings of sudden awkwardness, like he had managed all those classes before this one; where he ate without a care. And besides, if anyone would be nonjudgmental of this… coping mechanism, it should be Seokjin out of all people, shouldn’t it? He advised Taehyung to do it after all. 
A thought in the back of his mind wonders if maybe it isn’t judgment that Seokjin is showing. But Taehyung decides to bury that thought with another one of the cinnamon rolls, taking an obscene bite of it. Guiding his thoughts to the warmth stretching his stomach, not taut yet but getting there. Pressing against his shirt with a slight curve. Already making him blissed and a little sleepy. 
And he still has so much more food to go. 
Perfect. 
With newfound determination, and a mind determined to not think for the rest of the class, Taehyung loses himself to the food before him. Not only the sound of his professor giving critiques, but the sight from the corner of his eye of Seokjin (possibly) watching him, all fade away. As Taeyung focuses on looking down at his bakery box, focusing on his own hands as they reach more fervently for the food, feeling how the icing and buttercream make his throat feel thick and his entire body tingle as all the blood goes to his distending stomach. One hand goes idly to caress the growing curve, feels like with every heavy gulp, it expands against his fingers. Though it doesn’t feel unbearable like it used to be. 
He brought enough food that when it’s time for his critiques, Taehyung hasn’t even finished. But he still ate enough for that comfortable warmth to ease his nerves. It goes by smoothly, like it has for the past few weeks. And he has left overs! Taehyung could probably take these back to his apartment, he is sure Jungkook will appreciate the extra study snacks. 
Yet as soon as his professor is done talking to him, his hand is reaching for another slice of cake. Even when he has no reason to be nervous anymore, no anxiety rattling his bones; it’s like his hands reach for the food all on their own. He doesn’t even question it, let alone try to stop himself. But in the back of his mind, Taehyung is beginning to realize, he’s trained his body to do this. To eat without conscience, to eat to lose conscience. 
Which isn’t really all that good. But then again… Being this full does feel really nice. Especially when these last baked goods are all he needs to fully push to the edge of comfortably full to stuffed to brim. The thought on the back of his mind isn’t enough to stop the automated path of his hand, as it grips the velvety piece of cake. It doesn’t matter if it’s not as enjoyable as it settles in his rounding stomach. The taste is amazing. 
Fuck Jungkook, he has enough snacks already. That waistline speaks for itself. 
Taehyung has to force that last bite down with his index finger, chewing lethargic and slowly; a little painful. His stomach gurgling under his desk in complaint, as if to convince Taehyung to not swallow. He does, obviously. The only thing more embarrassing than eating like a hog in front of everyone, would be spitting something out. He gulps it down and has a burp stretching his cheeks almost immediately after. Having to cup his swollen stomach when it vibrates and gurgles whining. 
Ow. 
He might have overdone it. His eyelids feel heavy and it feels like all those sweets are taking space his lungs need; making his breathing heavier and his body warm all over. 
As if on cue, the class is dismissed! Perfect timing, Taehyung is ready to get these pants off and take a fat nap. Already tidying up his desk from all the little disposable plates and trays, he has good student etiquette thank you very much. Ignoring the weird stares from fellow students that walk past his desk. If they haven’t gotten used to this in the last two weeks, it’s out of Taehyung’s hands. 
When it’s time to get up. His stomach churns painfully, cramping and complaining to the point Taehyung plops back into his chair. A little ‘ouf’ leaving his lips; as if he hadn’t already been breathless before attempting to stand. It takes a second try, and a second failure for Taehyung to realize… he might need a little help. 
This time around, he does feel like the side-eyes he is getting from his classmates are somewhat deserved. He overdid it. Most definitely. Taehyung has never been this full, belly expanding with each shallow breath; agitated from trying to stand and pinned by his taut belly. Full enough it stretches his poor shirt; he’s always had a bit of padding around his tummy, and it barely shows from how tight his stomach is rounding out. Only able to feel that chub when he massages his gurgling stomach; but it looks hard enough to be a baby bump. 
In a meek, breathless attempt, Taehyung tries again. Only to fall back in his chair. Desperation beginning to tie his overstuffed stomach in a knot, not only are his classmates leaving; but the people from the class after theirs are entering. His head turning for any familiar face he could ask for assistance. 
The only one he finds is the one Taehyung is most embarrassed to call for help. But he doesn’t have much of a choice, does he? 
“Seokjinssi?” The TA was picking up some notes, his back to Taehyung, thankfully. There’s at least some hope that he didn’t see Taehyung’s pathetic attempts to get up. 
“What is it?” He comes closer slinging his backpack on and getting a proper look at Taehyung’s situation. Bloated belly, pushing at the waistband of his pants and shirt, holding onto the desk for momentum. Seokjin’s entertained smile makes him want to shrink away. 
“Could you…” Taehyung is not gonna look at his face when asking, instead looking at the mess he turned himself into. All of that flirty energy he had felt for Seokjin when he first helped the younger out, was gone. Replaced with mortifying embarrassment. “Uh… I kind of overdid it. I need a little help.” He says instead, avoiding Seokjin’s reaction. 
A hand comes into his line of vision.
Phew. 
Taehyung takes it and lets Seokjin tug him up. Amazed by the soft grunt that slips from the back of his throat; feeling his swollen stomach try and pin him in place. But that’s not nearly as embarrassing as the way he accidentally leans closer than he should to Seokjin’s torso. The hand that isn’t holding Taehyung’s holding him by his waist; hand big enough to brush the side of his bloat.
He is mortified, and Seokjin���s little smile does nothing to help the feeling. 
“You okay?” The way even the TA’s charming expression has his eyebrows slightly raised and his eyes a little widened. Even he wasn’t ready for Taehyung’s display of gluttony. 
“Y–yeah… Yeah, thanks.” Taehyung forces himself to smile. But what’s even harder is separating from the firmness of Seokjin’s torso. Brushing the crumbs that collected across his chest. “That’s a first for me.” He feels the need to comment. 
“Eating so much you can’t get up?” Seokjin chuckles. “Yeah, you’re the first time I see it too.” His tone is friendly, but Taehyung can still feel his cheeks burning red. Only worsened by the up and down glance Seokjin gives of his body. 
“You should meet my roommates.” Taehyung tells a joke only for himself to laugh at. Ready to wash off all the embarrassment he accumulated in this class. “See you around, Seokjinssi.” He scrambles to grab his stuff and nod off. Weighting if this much humiliation is worth being able to handle the critiques. 
Taehyung doesn’t really decide. Not really. Because the next day comes, Taehyung doesn’t even have a critiquing that day, but his feet still drag him to the bakery close to campus. Staff already familiar with his face and gave him the freshest donuts of the batch. In the back of his mind, he does question himself again. If it really is the best for him to be eating beyond his capability to stand up. 
But he got the donuts already. And even if he won’t be getting critiques today, it’s still nice to have a snack while he paints. It’s just once more. 
Except it isn’t, Taehyung finds himself facing the fact he underestimated how much of a habit he had made of Seokjin’s little advice. Part of him started feeling guilty to not go to the bakery, feeling like all the staff was expecting him there. And the very few scattered days that Taehyung didn’t go, his worries were confirmed when the caring lovely staff asked about what happened. Besides, whenever he skipped, his stomach would grumble so much he would eventually end up dragging his feet to the college dining hall and buying anything he can get his eyes on. 
Seokjin doesn’t bring it up again, but he does continue walking over to Taehyung’s desk to chat. Never able to be subtle in the way he always glances down at the younger’s desk; as if to check if he had brought any food this time. And Taehyung always had. 
Luckily though, he never has to ask Seokjin for help getting up in what’s left of the semester. The more used he got to eating these huge quantities of sweets, the easier his stomach stretched and adapted to the heft of Taehyung’s snacks. But, simultaneously, made him harder and harder to satisfy. 
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It got to the point where there wasn’t enough food he could physically bring to his class for it to be enough to make him feel as full as he used to be at the beginning of the semester. He keeps his portions similar to the ones he had when he first started bringing food to class, only to stuff himself with anything he could; whether it meant another stop to the bakery, a demolition of the lunch menu at the dining hall, or cleaning whatever his roommates had stashed the fridge with. Though that last option got him a scolding most of the time. 
In the back of his mind, he knows. Taehyung is overdoing it. Ending his school day stuffed to the brim and waddling home; even on the days he has sculpting class, and his hands are in no condition to be touching food. Let alone classes where his hands are in full capacity to eat, a professor’s critique not needed for his body to crave that hazy drowsy sensation of being full. 
And it’s beginning to show. He knows it. Taehyung can feel it in the way his clothes begin to fill out. Waistbands sinking into his middle when he sits down, and then even when he is standing up. His inner thighs rubbing together when he walks, covering all of the chair when he sits. The front of his tummy always pressing against his shirts, which have only gotten tighter with the course of the semester. Then, it’s not just his stomach pressing against the fabric, but his chest too. Small but puffy mounds of fat, with softened and overly sensitive nipples. Then his sleeves start feeling a little fuller as well. 
And if Taehyung gets another comment from his roommates about how chubby and round his face has gotten, he will throw another paintbrush at them. 
But it’s fine.
The semester will end, and without the routine of his classes, the routine of his snacking shall also stop. 
Taehyung has it under control. 
Even if he was determined to not need a change of clothes until the end of the semester. Yet here he is, rummaging through Jungkook and Jimin’s laundry for anything oversized. 
Whatever, it’s not a change of clothes. Jimin and Jungkook steal his clothes for fancy events all the time. Or… they used to. Taehyung doubts they fit them now. 
He finds one of Jungkook’s sweatpants and he rather not ponder on how they’re not an oversized fit. He leaves for uni decidedly. Today he has a live painting session, his favorite. He arrives there early even! Ready to pick his favorite spot in the circle of canvases, and display all his paints and–
Seokjin is there. 
“You don’t take this course.” He states a bit bluntly. Excuse him, but Taehyung has to mentally prepare himself to engage with Seokjin, and have him smiling all charming at him. 
“I don’t.” Luckily, the older only seems endeared by Taehyung’s straight forward greeting. “Ms.Lee called in sick, I’m covering for her.”
“Are TAs allowed to do that?” He can’t help scrunching his face. And it downright earns a bit of laughter from Seokjin, smile only growing. 
“It’s just a live painting session, Tae.” Endearment rolls off his tongue. “Take a seat.” Seokjin’s shit eating smile shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. But that’s an existential question Taehyung had to give up ages ago. 
“You’re not the boss of me.” He scoffs, but does in fact walk to his preferred canvas. Just because he wants to. Not because Seokjin instructed him. Setting his bag and walking to the line of aprons hung up at the back of the class. 
He doesn’t think twice before grabbing one, putting his head through it and beginning to tie it as he walks back to his spot. But… as he feels his belly press against the cloth, rolls on his waist shifting with each step, Taehyung feels the straps sink a little into the folds that stack on his sides. A sensation he’s gotten used to.
However, he can’t seem to be making the two ends of the straps meet… 
Not even close. 
Stopping in his tracks, he focuses on sucking in. And feels his stomach retract the slightest bit, he pushes the straps. The two edges barely grazing each other, not nearly enough give for him to tie a knot. And panic starts to set in. 
Yeah, he hasn’t had a live painting session in a while. But it hasn’t been that long, has it? 
And he hasn’t gotten that fat in said short amount of time, has he? 
He turns his back to the rack of aprons, almost resentfully. There has to be a bigger one, isn’t there? No, Taehyung is in Korea. Where he was a size large even before this… gain. 
“What’s the matter?” Seokjin asks, but his voice sounds more knowing than what Taehyung feels comfortable with. And his voice is closer than he was prepared for. 
Almost automatically, he takes the apron off his head, holding it defensively to his chest. Acutely aware of the way his hands sink into the new padding that rounds his pecs. “Nothing.” 
Seokjin’s smile only widens at that. “Nothing.” He repeats, comedically unconvinced. Though he is looking at Taehyung with endearment, helpful almost. 
“Yes.” But Taehyung is too prideful.
“Okay…” The older doesn’t argue. “That’s a really nice shirt, would be a shame to spill oil paint on it.” 
“I won’t.” He purses his lips, shrugging bratty. “I was about to put it on.” Taehyung’s thick-headedness gets the best of him though, and he can feel it bite him in the ass when Seokjin crosses his arms and leans against the wall; expectant. 
“Go on then.” 
“With what?”
“Put it on. I’m gonna start the class on time, so…” Taehyung doesn’t check the clock to know if the clash should actually start soon or not. Not willing to show that he has anything to worry about. At least he knows they’re still the only two here, if the way Soekjin is acting is anything to go by. Taehyung knows by now that as confident as he likes to act, the TA would die of embarrassment to be caught flirting like this. 
Does this count as flirting? It feels like he is just tormenting Taehyung. 
“Whatever…” He mumbles, putting it over his head again. But not bothering to tie it behind him. “There. Happy?”
“You’re so stubborn, did anybody tell you that?” Seokjin’s tone is too soft to be taken seriously. 
“Endlessly.” 
“Do you want some help?” 
“No.” 
“Do you need help?” He rephases much to Taehyung’s dismay. 
“…Maybe.” His surrender is worth it for the cackle Seokjin lets out as he walks behind Taehyung. “B-but I doubt you can do anything.” He grumbles as he feels Seokjin’s knuckles brush against his fatty sides as he takes a hold of the straps. The rolls that won’t leave no matter how much he sucks in. 
“Let me try…” He can practically hear Seokjin’s concentrated frown as he brings the straps behind the younger; Taehyung can feel them sink into his folds once more. There’s a beat of silence, where Seokjin doesn’t move the straps and seems to be calculating his options. Taehyung doesn’t want to wonder what the view must be like for him from behind. Finally, he instructs. “Suck in.” 
“Tsk, you think I didn’t try that already?” He responds a little defensively. 
“Just do it!” Seokjin’s voice is close to a whine. And Taehyung ‘eughs’ but compiles. Taking in a deep breath and forcing his pudgy belly inwards.
There’s another beat of silence, before Seokjin talks again. “That’s it?”
“What do you mean that’s it?” Taehyung can’t help his voice sounds a little breathless, still holding in. The end of his sentence cut short as a tug of the straps coaxes the air out of him. Straps not only sinking further into his rolls, but the front of the apron beginning to fold into itself too, riding up the curve of his belly just a little.
“Suck in more!” 
“I can’t- OUF!” The sudden tug cinches, or at least tries to cinch, at Taehyung’s middle. Fat overspilling from over the straps in a poor attempt to resist the restrictions of the apron. 
“Yeah, we are gonna need some extra fabric for these straps.” 
“You didn’t need to choke me to know that.” Taehyung is still catching his breath. And once he stops sucking in, he can feel all of Seokjin’s efforts come undone as the straps go back to reaching the far back of his side rolls. 
“I wouldn’t need to help you at all if your apron fit.” Seokjin retorts, giving a light squeeze to one of Taehyung’s thick love handles before moving to the front desk in the classroom. Just in time to avoid the indignant turn Taehyugn does to face him. 
“It’s your fault I don’t fit into the apron.” Or any of my clothes, for that matter. He holds back from saying. Seokjin has his back to him as he rummages through the drawers of a desk that most definitely isn’t the TA’s. 
“What did I do?” There’s a chuckle attached at the end of his question. That makes Taehyung believe Seokjin knows exactly what he did. “Aha!” He doesn’t let the younger answer, as he pulls out… A string. 
Walking victorious towards Taehyung, this time with a charming smile, he instructs again. “Turn around.” He complies, too curious to question the older’s strategy. Taehyung turns around and lifts his arms a bit. 
He can feel Seokjin take one of the straps once more. And in the comfortable silence with a very concentrated tone he asks. “Where were we?”
“I was gonna tell you how you are responsible for my apron not fitting.” He deadpans. 
“Ah yes… Blasphemy.” Seokjin giggles behind him. Now he is grabbing the other strap. 
“It’s not! Your trick for critique-anxiety worked too well.” The younger hopes his pout is coming through his voice for Seokjin to hear. “I’m surprised you aren’t struggling to put in your aprons either.” 
“I used that trick maybe one or twice for my final exams. Not… every single critique I was ever given.”
“It’s not my fault I get more anxious than you.”
“Was critique-anxiety the one making you eat during your normal classes too? I’m surprised you didn’t bring any snacks to this one. I feel robbed.” 
“How did you know I was eating in other classes?” 
“You have a bit of a reputation by now, Tae.” The endearment is ever present in Seokjin’s voice. “There!” He stands up straight finally, giving Taehyung’s peaking love handles, exposed by all the cinching and tugging of his shirt, one last celebratory pat. Making them giggle right above the slightly tight waistband of Jungkook’s joggers. “Your apron now fits. You are very very welcome.” 
“Thanks…” Taehyung tries to twist and get a proper look at Seokjin’s contraption, the extra yarn sinking a little into the padding that now covers his back. “And what do you mean I have a reputation?” He snaps up to look Seokjin in the eyes. A little sense of dread coiling at his stomach. 
Or that might just be the apron restricting his belly. 
“Don’t look at me like it’s news to you. Do you think people weren’t gonna notice the guy walking in with a picnic’s worth of food into every class? Even professors know who you are.”  His face is starting to burn and even if he was the one to daringly try and lock eyes with Seokjin to get an answer from him, Taehyung isn’t quite liking what he is hearing. 
So… to make his case even worse, he eyes the clock. Still 15 minutes till class starts, he has time. “I’ll go buy some breakfast.” He states pouty, feeling heat flare at his cheeks. 
“That definitely will help the apron.” Seokjin’s comment is already far behind, because Taehyung is fleeing this humiliating scene with quick steps. He doesn’t turn around to respond, his face burns too much for him to do so. 
He won’t buy much, he tells himself. Just keep himself out of class long enough for other students to arrive. So Seokjin stops making him blush. 
The cafeteria is always a welcoming sight, the staff already knowing his face, much like in that bakery that he still very much goes to on a daily basis. Putting a polite smile for the staff as he begins buying anything he can get his hands on. Once he starts it’s so easy to just keep piling his plate. Getting his money’s worth on that student meal plan. But it’s so hard to stop. 
Only once Taehyung can’t physically fit more into his plate does he realize he overdid it. He glances at the wall clock again. Ten minutes. 
Taehyung can definitely manage to eat all this before class. 
With a decided nod he takes his plate to one of the empty tables, still a bit before most students start to get lunch. And Taehyung will definitely be there with everyone else a second time too, even if his meal plan doesn’t cover it. He knows his hunger won’t let him skip a meal, no matter how much he ate before. 
He feels like such a pig. Out of control and eating to avoid the nerves and the confrontation that Seokjin seems so comfortable bringing to his class. Forcing Taehyung to acknowledge just how fat he got. 
And that maybe it’s not entirely Seokjin’s fault either. 
Taehyung shovels that thought right to the back of his mind where it belongs with a bite of his food. He wasn’t entirely aware of what he had gotten either. It was a nice surprise when sweet cinnamon batter took over his lips. Sweet, of course he got sweet. The taste so addictive and soothing to his body, he can’t help his other hand reach for something else to bring to his lips, a cookie. Taehyung can pretty much feel the clock ticking, interchangeably taking bites of the two baked goods, looking like a ravenous animal in front of the few people scattered across the cafeteria. 
10 minutes, he reminds himself, forcing to stretch his lips with bigger bites, mixing the sweets as he goes. Not caring if the tastes don’t fit or blur together. All Taehyung wants is for the comforting ballooned feeling to take over him.
The one that gets him to forget about critiques.
About Seokjin’s charming smile.
About how he managed to get so fat in the course of the semester. Ironically. 
He is starting to feel it. Bloat beginning to make his shirt ride up a little bit at his side. 
No, not his shirt. 
Jungkook’s oversized shirt. 
The stretch of his stomach making his belly, that now was covered in a thick layer of chub no matter the size of the bloat, press harder against the poor apron. Taehyung can feel the way the extra lace Seokjin used to tie the knot, sinks into the fat padding that covers his lower back. 
5 minutes, he glances at the clock. And he still has nearly half of his serving left. Maybe he underestimated himself. 
Maybe, Taehyung isn’t as much of a pig as Seokjin’s eyes make him out to be. 
He leans closer to the plate in an attempt to make the food pass the stretch of his opened lips faster. But he feels something snap behind him, and a sudden pressure release from his swollen abdomen. 
The straps of his apron broke. 
That gets him to stop eating. Staring at the plate blankly. Refusing to get a proper look at himself. 
Taehyung definitely won’t be attending class. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Jimin can’t see another video of “music majors when they remember they need listen to a song due at midnight”. The ones Jungkook doesn’t get tired of sending him. Excuse you, Jimin spends more time in his home-made studio than Jungkook does in his silly little labs. No, he doesn’t have a song-listening due at midnight. Jimin has to finish the rough demos of a soundtrack by the end of the week. Not quite the same, no. 
These thoughts keep running through his mind as Jimin leans inches away from his monitor, FL Studio open as his own raw creation blasts through his overly expensive (maybe a little pretentious) headphones. He heard Jungkook and Taehyung come in at some point in the night, he is sure they’ve taken care of dinner. Lately this apartment has started to ditch the “skipping meals” plan that most broke students seemed to adopt. But Jimin always has a hard time remembering to take breaks when he has projects like his one plaguing his mind. 
It’s 2 am already. He can wait until he has this one song finished before forcing himself to the kitchen. The weight of this project already lulling his senses and numbing him to such trivial things like eating and “drinking something that doesn’t have caffeine”. Jimin is way beyond the line of feeling uncomfortable, having pulled several late nights of work, letting Taehyung’s snoring guide the beat of his songs. Rolling around to class the next morning looking worse than in his prima-ballerina days. Jimin works nearly in autopilot as he adds layers of texture to the song, he doesn’t care if it’s shit. He just wants it to be finished. 
Done. 
And it’s only… 3:45am.
Fuck. 
He needs to eat something and go to bed. 
Nothing could’ve prepared him for the complete masacre of what used to be “dinner”. Absolutely nothing, the hogs of his roommates left him nothing. 
Jimin thought he had it under control. The stress, his emotions, the hunger. But his eyes begin to water against him. He doesn’t have anything to eat! And he has been looking forward to it for hours! And he is sure his roommates didn’t mean to but his bottom lip is wobbling against his will and he has to cup his lips before he dejectedly walks back to his room. Sniffs heard throughout the room. 
In an attempt to distract himself, he downloads the file and sends it to Yoongi. Rubbing his eyes and leaning on his chair, his entire body catching up with him, pain swelling on his lower back and his knees as he tries to stretch.
And as if to make matters worse, his stomach complains with a roar. 
He can’t help it, his face is scrunching up and sniffles are making his body spasm gently and his shoulders tense with each shaky intake of air. Before he can stop it, his hands are covering his face, where he feels himself begin to cry. 
Ping!
The notification noise anticlimactically cuts him off. Hands leaving his face to peak at his phone. 
yoongi hyung: what are you doing up 
you: what are YOU doing up?!
yoongi hyung: i asked first. 
you: was finishing the thing i sent you
you: and crying
Jimin is one to try and find humor in his everyday misery, but he does feel a little guilt when he sees Yoongi take a bit longer to reply. 
yoongi hyung: why were you crying?
It’s his time to ponder his answer. And, deciding he doesn’t want to get a lecture about his time management skills and Jimin’s incredible ability to neglect his basic needs, he chooses something that’s still very much true. 
you: tae and kook didn’t save me any food (。•́︿•̀。)
His response is immediate then. 
yoongi hyung: wanna come over? 
yoongi hyung: I also need your opinion on something. 
Tsk.
yoongi hyung: and i got food
Sold. 
you: be there in a bit!
Jimin tries to be quiet. But also, when he worries about possibly waking up his roommates, he quickly realizes he doesn’t care. 
Serves them right. Hmf. 
He texts Yoongi when he is outside, really not waiting to wake Hoseok up. He doesn’t deserve it. But to his surprise it’s him who opens the door for the younger. 
“Oh. Hobi hyung.” Jimin pouts a little worried. And the older beats him to it. 
“If you’re going to apologize, don’t. I was awake too.” His smile is gentle, but his hair is a little messy and his face is a little puffed up.
Either Hoseok is lying and Yoongi and him totally woke him up. Or the couple was having a fun night and Jimin interrupted. 
He doesn’t know which one makes him feel worse. 
“Still, thanks.” Jimin’s smile is a little guilty but some of his worry smelt away when he hugs Hoseok tight. A little bit of that uncomfortable tension on his body leaving with the lithe (but strong) man squeezes at his sides. 
“Yoongi is in the kitchen. Only you can get him to start cooking at 4am.” 
“He told me he had food already!” Jimin whines as he walks in.
“Well…He lied. I offered to grab something from a convenience store. But you know Yoongi wouldn’t let you have that.” The chuckle attached at the end of his sentence screams endearment. Jimin follows behind him into the couple’s apartment like his second home. Which it practically is. 
Yoongi and Hoseok were both the ones to first introduce him to music in highschool. And Jimin was the witness of the very beginnings of the most obnoxiously romantic couple he knows. A delicious smell already takes over the cozy apartment. “Hyung, you’re cooking for me?” He smiles teasing when they make their way to the kitchen. Loving to tease whenever Yoongi shows his tender side; the one that always comes when Jimin needs it most. 
“And I might throw it all out if you don’t shut it.” He pouts and Jimin only giggles, launching forward for a back hug to the other. His cheek pressing to his shoulder. 
“You wouldn’t.” He says with certainty, and a shit-eating smile. “You love me.” Jimin doesn’t care if Yoongi doesn’t answer, all he needs is a quick peek at what the older is cooking. Kimchi jjigae, Jimin’s personal favorite. 
“Go go to the studio.” He tries to shimmy Jimin off. “Babee.” The youngest feels particularly accomplished when he gets Yoongi to whine for his partner. Hoseok chuckles behind them both, taking Jimin’s hand gently. 
“Come on, we can set up in the office.” Jimin doesn’t need much convincing. Easy to manhandle around as Hoseok drops his arm over the youngest’s shoulders. He can’t help it, being in both of their presence is so soothing. That and the all nighter (or week of consecutive all nighters) is catching up to him.
He comes here so often, the little room turned into a studio not only has two chairs for the producer couple, but a third one for Jimin’s frequent visits. Well… He visited a lot more often before this hellish semester. But it still feels like home when he tiredly plops down smiling at Hoseok. 
“I missed you.” He says simply, getting Hoseok’s expression to soften as he sits beside him. “Sorry for crashing your sex.” And his sleepy state immediately ruins it; judging by the choked sound Hoseok lets out.
“Don’t worry about it.” He says instead of denying it. In his sleepy state, Jimin’s mind unhelpfully provides him with mental images. 
Not that he’s thought about this before. Or anything. 
Yoongi thankfully interrupts his brain, kimchi jjigae bowl in his hand. “You said you sent me something to listen to?” He takes a seat at Jimin’s other side. Who can’t answer because he is already shoveling a mouthful of stew into his cheeks. He only nods. “Let’s give it a listen then.” 
The youngest gulps suddenly then. “R-right now?” He can’t help the nerves. Hoseok is right here, he only shows Hoseok his finished pieces and this was just a rough demo. His eyes darted to both of his sides, suddenly self conscious. Jimin doesn’t know if he can handle the exposure right now. 
But he doesn’t exactly know how to tell that to his two hyungs. Because that would just mean he has something to be self conscious about. And yes, Jimin has endlessly heard both Hoseok and Yoongi tell him that demos don’t have to be perfect. Jimin just chooses to not apply that to himself. 
“S-sure, sure, let’s play it.” Jimin corrects himself. Not very smoothly. But after an exchange of looks between Yoongi and Hoseok, they decide to give into it anyway. 
“Fine. But we aren’t giving feedback until tomorrow.” Hoseok states opening the file on Yoongi’s computer. 
“What? Why?” He pouts.
“Because if you knew you could fix something you wouldn’t sleep at all.” There’s an endeared chuckle attached to the end of his sentence, and a big warm hand massaging the base of Jimin’s neck. But even that is not enough to soothe the sudden knot that tied into his stomach. 
Feeling the dread as the file downloads, and Hoseok starts opening the producing software that’s much better than his; Jimin busies himself with the first thing he finds. And that’s the delicious homemade dinner Yoongi made him. Leaning back on the chair, his knees up to his chest and the bowl close to his face as he begins to scarf down the delicious homemade stew. It takes over his senses, warmth trickling down his throat and setting perfectly on his stomach. 
Jimin would much rather focus on that. Especially motivated as the first chords of his demo start to play in the expensive speaker system. He buries the first beginnings of stomach-twisting cringe with warm spicy goodness. Lulling his senses and soothing his heart rate. Almost warming along the knots of his back and relaxing them at least somewhat. The speakers are too loud though, pulling Jimin back to the stress of this assignment. The endless work, endless stress. The endless idea in the back of his mind that he has his two idols to live up to. 
It only encourages him to tilt the bowl a little upwards and begin to focus into slurping it down. Not caring if all the broth begins to settle a little uncomfortable in his stomach. He welcomes the feeling, it drowns out everything else. The breathing through his nose echoing in the actually quite big ceramic bowl. The warmth of the food making its way down and curling at his belly in a way that makes his head feel fuzzy and nice. The demo becomes background white noise as his thick gulps become louder and rhythmic, easy to get lost in. 
He is gasping for air the moment the song plays its last chords. He completely spared himself from the experience, he realized gleefully. But immediately after, realizes Jimin ate all that food in the 4 minutes the song lasted. Or well… He doesn’t realize, per se, his stomach makes a very painful statement; accompanied with a loud embarrassing rumble. Loud enough that makes both Hoseok and Yoongi turn their heads to him for the first time in the night.
At least Jimin hopes so, he wouldn’t want to seem like a pig in front of them. 
“You finished it?” Hoseok is the one to ask, shock clear in his voice. 
“He hasn’t eaten a thing in who knows how long, leave him alone.” Yoongi hushes him with a pout, before turning to Jimin; who is having to concentrate on his breathing. “Want some dessert with that?” 
Even turning his head to face Yoongi feels like a heavy effort. Lips a little tingly from the spice of the stew. Parted as he breathes heavily, having to collect his hazy thoughts even to realize what he’s being asked. Let alone what he wants. 
“N–no… No, I ate too fast.” He sighs, Hoseok sets his hand on Jimin’s thigh, rubbing endeared. 
“Okay, we heard your thing. So it’s bedtime now.” His chuckle is gentle, and Jimin can feel Hoseok’s knuckles brush against his rounded tummy when his rubbing inches up his thigh, just before rubbing back down. It makes him realize just how big the portion was, looking down at himself as he nods lazily. Jimin sees the curve that pushes against his snug shirt. Little but no less mesmerizing. 
Jimin has never bloated like that. 
He is too entranced to hear the couple get up, only when Jimin’s vision is obscured by a hand that’s a lot less dainty than Hoseok; Yoongi’s. “Come on, up.” He looks up tiredly and dumbly. As if all his blood is leaving his head and traveling down to circle his stomach and help him digest. That mixed with the sleep deprivation making him lethargic, almost drunk-like. 
The grunt Jimin lets out as he stands makes the two older giggle. They each wrap an arm around Jimin’s lower back, letting him melt in their hold as they walk to bed. 
“I can take the futon.” Yoongi mumbles to Hoseok, basically hearing their silent communication as he stares ahead. Jimin’s head snaps back up to obstruct their vision at both his sides. 
“Your bed is big enough.” He states simply. Not asking before he plops in the middle of the bed, not questioning its state of messy. Shifting perfectly in the middle till he looks at them both with a smile. 
They’ve done this so many times already, it only takes the couple a few seconds to recompose themselves as they walk to the bed too, to lay at Jimin’s sides. Making the younger feel properly at peace, the memories of his stress and how awful he had felt about his demo already blurred by the nice rumbling sensation of his stomach digesting. His thoughts silenced, only a faint comment going on in his head as he falls asleep. 
He should definitely try this more often for all his producing sessions.   
They wake up at noon. At least Jimin does, the bed is empty and the sunlight is warming the covers perfectly. The sound of faint talking comes from outside, and it’s not nearly as strong as the smell of food. 
Looks like today he will be putting his theory to the test. 
He has lunch first thing, and then Yoongi and Hoseok make a spot for him in their home studio. That, now that he has the full proper hours of sleep, he finally notices how much better and more professional it is than the one he has at home. He isn’t sure if it’s the most productive Saturday afternoon of his life. But it’s definitely the one he’s enjoyed producing the most in. At least for the last few… semesters. 
When he leaves, the couple makes sure to tell him that “You always have a free spot here if you need some creative break.” And Jimin clings to that. It’s perfect, isn’t it? Jimin gets to see his hyungs more often, rekindle the relationship he had neglected ever since getting overworked in college. But not feel too guilty about hanging out with them since he gets to be productive too!
He doesn’t even have to think it the few days later when he texts them to hang out again. And Jimin welcomes it with open arms, even  when it becomes a couple-of-times-a-week thing. Getting to eat their delicious cooking and work on his projects without the churning of his stomach distracting him, or overworking himself to the point where his lower back stabs for a break. 
Yoongi will always go to the bathroom and come back with snacks for everyone but Jimin mostly works his way through them, Hoseok will stretch and whine a bit and urge Jimin to watch some short episodes of the shitty reality shows (that jimin tried to resist before inevitably getting invested in) as a break. Usually accompanied by some delivery, doesn’t have to be a meal, sometimes it’s ice cream or some baked goods “to boost up energy”. And around lunch and dinner, they all get up to just hang out around the kitchen.
The youngest hasn’t felt this well rested in ages. And… Ironically, workflow hasn’t been this smooth in ages either. Jimin spares himself from saying that out loud and getting a big fat “I told you so.” from both of them. But it’s clear they know, from the way they encourage Jimin and praise their work and praise how much more energetic he sounds and how his work starts feeling a little bit more creative and alive. 
He personally would blame having his two biggest inspirations in the room with him while he produces, but he supposes the sleep and food have something to do with it too. 
Jungkook and Taehyung won’t stop teasing him about it. But they just don’t get the friendship he has with Hoseok and Yoongi. A relationship that feels like he isn’t just regaining the closeness he had with the couple, but Jimin feels impossibly closer than ever before. Maybe the age difference was too apparent in highschool. Now that they’re all adults, Jimn can feel the way Yoongi and Hoseok treat him differently, letting him get closer. 
Babying him still, always. But they trust Jimin more, not trying to guard him as much as they used to in highschool. Guarding that only resulted in forced distance. When Jimin wanted nothing more than to get close… 
Maybe a little too close. 
He’s matured now, and so has their relationship. Jimin is fine with this. His crush in highschool was definitely a little too noticeable, and probably the reason why the couple tried to restrain themselves around the younger. Though now, he gets to see them behave like a couple. And it’s nothing short of endearing. 
The way Yoongi’s hands always find their way to Hoseok’s skin even in subtle ways. When it happens, even if he is deeply concentrated working, or halfway through talking, a small smile brightens Hoseok’s face.They can’t get enough of each other, Jimin would feel bad about third wheeling if it weren’t such a delight to see. 
Or if the food weren’t so delicious. 
And if the couple’s bed weren’t so comfy. 
His semester started like one of the worst in Jimin’s university years, and now he doesn’t remember ever being this easy going with all his assignments. With the olders’ assistance and inspiration, and care. It was like producing had never been easier. But he still can’t help getting nervous whenever it’s time to show his work to either Yoongi or Hoseok. Or worse, both of them. 
Today Jimin should feel relieved, it’s the day he is finally handing in that assignment, the soundtrack he had been working on for most of the second half of the year. But Jimin can’t give himself the pleasure, because he knows Yoongi and Hoseok won’t let him get by this achievement without them listening to it. 
Thankfully, though, the couple prepared a celebration feast. So at least Jimin will have something to keep busy with as the 20 minutes of soundtrack play in the background. The sole trick that has been getting him through every work session with his hyungs. 
Tonight, his distraction is looking like a big big portion of KFC. Because he mumbled craving fried chicken a few days ago, and of course, Yoongi and Hoseok weren’t gonna let that slide. He is eager to silence the jittery feeling down his navel, anxious to know what they will think of all this hard work. 
In the back of his mind, Jimin knows they would never say any critique without the perfect words. And Jimin knows how to take critiques, he doesn’t mind them! Unlike Taehyung. But something about them makes Jimin’s lower back shiver with goosebumps. 
So he doesn’t hold back from picking up the bucket of fried chicken and bringing it to his lap. Beginning to eat even as Yoongi starts to decompress the zip file of Jimin’s album. The crunch perfect to drown out the noise around him, that and the oily delicious flavor giving him something nice to focus on. Already chewing on a drumstick as the first chords start to play on Yoongi’s nice speakers. 
He’s heard these songs so many times, engraved them into his mind through the course of the semester, that they’re surprisingly easy to let fade into the background. That or the chicken is too good. Jimin closes his eyes too, for full immersion. During the last few months, with him inhabiting Yoongi and Hoseok’s apartment more than ever before, he has actually grown somewhat of a resistance. It’s harder to have enough food to distract him for as long as he needs. 
Jimin has gotten faster at eating, is what he wants to say. 
But all this chicken should last him enough. Or at least long enough till he is full and hazy and able to drown out the critical ear that plagues him whenever he is forced to listen to any of his work. His chewing becomes more fervent as he starts to nip the drumstick clean of meat. Letting himself get lost in the hunger he feels. Convincing himself at least. 
It’s been a while since Jimin felt properly hungry. Impossible under his hyungs’ care. But still, he convinces himself to grab another piece of fried chicken even as he is still chewing the first one, barely managing to swallow as he pushes the new one in. Focusing on anything but the music, the crunchiness of the fried batter, resonating between his ears, the oil coating his tongue and the roof of his mouth, the taste that’s so delicious it makes Jimin feel the closest next thing to hunger. 
Gluttony. 
Relishing the sensation of warmth that spreads at the bottom of his stomach. The faster he eats the more time he has before he realizes just how heavily all this food is gonna make him feel later. Though, Jimin has realized, he doesn’t mind that heavy hazy aftermath either. In fact, it motivates him even more, the soundtrack becoming plain background noise. As he fully succumbs to it, each hand with a piece of chicken as Jimin loses his manners in an attempt to fit as much food as he can.  Stretching his lips around him, thankful that he is sitting a little bit behind the two older producers, so they can’t see him like this. Desperate and unmannered. But he bets the animalistic chewing sounds are revealing enough. 
It does the trick though, the music sounding more pleasant the fuller he gets, leaning back in his chair with the bucket still on his lap as he continues to eat at a more heinous and lethargic pace, wanting to keep this sedated high state for the entire duration of the soundtrack. He can feel his bloat begin to brush the bucket of chicken, but he doesn’t feel as full, not yet at least. 
Like he said, he’s built some resistance, even if he feels his stomach press against the fabric of his shirt and the bucket flush against his tummy. Jimin feels like he definitely has more room to finish this serving at least. 
As the soundtrack reaches its climax, so does he, his eating becoming impossibly more ravenous even as he starts feeling a proper tightness down his navel. Even if he has to push the chicken past his lips a little more forcefully, and leaning to eat the drumsticks becomes a little bit harder with the tautness of his bloat. The pile of clean bones collecting at the bottom of the bucket. 
Whipping his oily fingers on his shirt, sensation the curved stiffness of his belly. The pressure of his hands a welcoming feeling, it releases some of the tight stretch that makes his breathing a little heavier. Or that might just be the way he is suffocating himself with pieces of fried chicken, edges of his lips hurting a bit as he stretches over the humongous bites. Probably both. 
He has never timed it more perfectly, one oily hand reaching for the bucket while the other throws another clean bone in, and finds that he had finished it. Just as the last outro song begins to play. Jimin opens his eyes for the first time since he started eating, looking down at the bucket to find that yeah, he finished it. The warmth that spreads across his stomach borders on painful, but he adores it nonetheless, soothing and numbing. He can see his bloat too, stretching the shirt tight and pressing back against the bucket, rounded out cutely. A small plushness rounding the bottom of it. 
Though when Jimin looks up, he sees both Hoseok and Yoongi looking over their shoulders at him. The mess he made. 
The mess he turned himself into. 
“I thought we were eating after… to celebrate.” Hoseok is the first to comment, an endeared smile growing on his face. Oh… They had… mentioned something along those lines. 
“I—” Jimin tries to speak, though his voice sounds thick and greasy with all the oil. And speaking itself feels like an extension on his poor breathless state. Seems like Yoongi takes pity on him. 
“Leave him, he was hungry.” He wasn’t, and by the little smile Yoongi has on, he seems to be thinking the same. “Wanna go to bed, Min?” His tone is so gentle with him, like Yoongi knows just how lethargic and drowsy he feels right now. 
“N-no…” He huffs out a breath after the sentence, like itself is an effort. “What did you think?” 
“I don’t know if you’re awake enough to hear.” Hoseok giggles, getting a light slap to the thigh from his boyfriend. Prompting him to correct himself. “We loved it, Jiminie. Your hard work shows.” 
“Really?” His tone sounds childishly hopeful as it does sleepy. 
“Yes.” Though Hoseok’s tone sounds genuine nonetheless. “Your take on things is so unique, Jimin.” 
That seems to settle him, Yoongi prompts. “You can go to bed, I’ll take this.” He stands up and picks up the empty bucket. Leaving Jimin bare to his impressive bloat. The hem of his shirt even rode up a little at the very bottom, leaving a sliver of skin he hadn’t noticed before. But he is painfully self aware now. Blush creeping up his cheeks as he tries to fold his arms over his torso in a way that’s casual, but also hides the damage. 
Jimin knows he is unsuccessful when Hoseok giggles. “It’s not that bad, Minnie.” 
“I look huge…” The words slip out easier and less filtered when he is this full, all that food lulling him to sleep. 
“Well it suits you a bit.” Hoseok is standing up too, offering a hand. “Come, let’s get you to bed.” That sounds like the best idea anyone has ever had. 
He’s overeaten a lot in this apartment, looking for ways to sedate himself into enjoying his music more. But never was it this hard to stand up, even with Hoseok’s hearty pull upwards Jimin can’t help a grunt slipping from the back of his throat. Feeling all the food in his stomach shift with the movement, he has to cup the (naked) bottom of his bloat for some comfort. It’s not that taut. 
Hoseok is there to help, wrapping a slim arm around Jimin’s waist, letting the dainty palm settle on the side of his tummy as they slowly make their way to the bedroom. The younger feels his breath shallow as if he had come from a marathon. Every step making his bloat bounce against the waistband of his sweatpants and aching a little in the process. He’s never been more thankful for the cozy size of Hoseok and Yoongi’s apartment, because it’s only a few meters before he is plopping heavily onto the center of the bed. The movement caused a burp to push its way out of his lips. Jimin whines and throws his head back, careless enough to let both of his hands settle on the curve of his bloat and massage the tight skin. Coaxing a few more burps to slip out, though he lets them fill out his cheeks instead of ripping them out. 
He can feel Hoseok’s eyes on him, even with Jimin’s own eyes closed in a mixture of bliss and discomfort. Hearing a few footsteps get nearer. When Hoseok mumbles “Look at him.” His smile is audible too. 
“Are you alright, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi’s voice has a chuckle attached to the end of it, and Jimin can feel the bed shift as the older makes his way to sit next to him. He wants to answer, of course, but all that leaves him is a pouty whine. Opening his eyes only to put them in puppy mode for both of his hyungs. 
“Want a heat pad?” Yoongi’s voice offers kindly. 
“We leant it to my sister.” Hoseok comments, though his voice feels closer. And sure enough, there’s another feeling of shift at Jimin’s other side. “But I think we can give him something else.” Trustful, Jimin doesn’t bother to open his eyes to know what that is. But instead he feels the grazing of Hoseok’s soft but cold fingers against the center of his bloat. “Can we?” He doesn’t need to specify, Jimin knows they both saw him massaging his gut after stuffing himself. 
All he does is nod, before Hoseok’s palm is pressing flush to the warm skin, his fingers are squishing at the center of his taut stomach. Jimin’s jaw drops, a soft gasp leaving his lips. “Is this okay?” It prompts the question, that he answers wordlessly again with a quick eager nod. 
The extra reassurance makes another hand graze a bit lower on his stomach, not as soft, calloused, but warmer. So irrevocably Yoongi’s. His massages are slower but firm, some of it pressing against the naked bit of skin. Though only for a few seconds, before he tugs down (or tries to) the hem of Jimin’s shirt. Only for it to ride back up again to sit on the biggest part of his bloat. Yoongi doesn’t bother to pull it down a second time. Instead, the tips of his fingers, roughened up by the guitar, slip under the hem. Making Jimin sigh in relief, the older’s hand like a heat pad on its own, as Yoongi begins to slowly grip and knead the bottom. 
Hoseok takes initiative. Not just letting his hand slip under the snug shirt. But tugging it further up Jimin’s torso. Exposing the rounded out, swollen tummy, his hand setting on the hardest part right at the top. The gentle pressure makes a groan slip from the back of his throat, throwing his head back. 
“You really overdid it, Min-ah…” Hoseok muses, there’s a teasing tone hiding somewhere under his warm voice. But Jimin feels too much bliss to properly acknowledge it, thighs shuddering as his back arches to their touches. 
Yoongi is painfully quiet, but his hand keeps moving slowly along the bottom of his belly. Massaging what feels like a bloat, but is somewhat easy on the hands, easier than the top where Hoseok’s hand is. Pudgy…
A choked sound leaves his lips, it errands a small but no-less teasing chuckle from Hoseok. “That’s it, you worked so hard today.” His voice sounds closer to Jimin’s ear. The warmth coming from his stomach only grew with the presence of the older next to him. 
“Don’t hold back.” Hoseok’s breath brushes against his ear and it’s a sudden contrast with the warmth that’s beginning to emanate from his skin. His heavy breathing hitches, feeling not only the bloat coaxing wheezes of air, but Hoseok’s closeness too. That does nothing to help his breathing either. And he is sure Hoseok knows his impact, his smile pretty much palpable when he hums. “Hm?” 
Jimin doesn’t think he can answer something properly in the stuffed state he is in. Let alone with the way his heart skips a beat. 
“O–Okay.” He manages to whisper, letting his head tilt to the side, meeting Hoseok’s shoulder. 
“That’s it.” The older’s voice is barely above a whisper, the hand on the shelf of Jimin’s rounded bloat pushing him closer to Hoseok’s side, to lean a bit of his weight against his lithe torso. He doesn’t resist the guidance, not caring about the suffocating heat if he is sharing it with Hoseok. But the push against the top of his stomach, it makes him grunt at first, feeling the tight pressure. 
And as he shifts his hips lethargically, though, a deep burp comes out. Right next to Hoseok’s face. 
That makes Jimin’s eyes pop open, feeling pretty much the bucket of ice water that showers him. Meeting Hoseok’s equally widened expression. 
“Pfthahahah!” Bubbly giggles make Hoseok’s body shake. A sense of relief washing over Jimn’s suddenly tense muscles. As Jimin follows along with a shy chuckle. He notices, Hoseok wasn’t watching him. He was watching at Yoongi. 
Jimin had almost forgotten about him. And he is met with a stoic, serious expression; a tint of pink on his face. Was it always that color? 
“I think you should go to sleep, Jiminie.” Hoseok interrupts the younger’s analysis with a smile. His hands guiding Jimin away from his own body to lay fully against the bed. He doesn’t fight back but he probably has a confused pouty expression on his face. Luckily Hoseok seems to notice. “We haven’t had dinner yet.” His tone is so endeared. “We’ll come back to you in a bit, okay?” 
Jimin can only nod, his eyes avoiding Hoseok as he continues to study Yoongi’s expression. But the eldest doesn’t look back. Staring at some spot in the mattress. 
“Night, Min.” Hoseok’s hand combs his fringe out of his forehead as he stands up, Yoongi following suit. But only mumbling a quiet:
“Night.” 
Jimin stays quiet himself, controlling his breathing as he watches the couple walk out of the room. 
He doesn’t know what just happened, but he is pretty certain he ruined it. But, the now soothed, warmness clinging to his belly is pulling also at his eyelids, lulling him to sleep. 
Though he is soothed to find the couple snoring besides him when he wakes up. 
Not all that ruined, then. 
It would make sense… Now that Jimin’s semester project is finished, and his vacations are starting, Jimin doesn’t have a need to be hanging out at their apartment to stress-manage once every two days. 
But they keep inviting him. And…. Jimin really likes their company. And their apartment is much nicer than the shoebox he is sharing with Jungkook and Taehyung. And now he can just hang out with them without the stress of his assignments. 
It’s a no-brainer. 
And, if he felt the couple slowly open up to him more during these months, putting down the walls they had with Jimin in highschool.Now it’s like Jimin can free himself too. Letting himself hang out in their apartment and not just their secluded studio. Hanging out happily on the couch, Hoseok by his side, feeling comfortable enough to cuddle close. Until Yoongi got back from his music teacher gig and then they started working on dinner. 
Or even going out vinyl shopping with Yoongi, since Hoseok thinks he has an obsession. And getting to hear the older talk for hours, even asking for Jimin’s opinion on which he prefers. They stop to get take out and bring it back home, to eat dinner while they listen to the entire thing. With Hoseok’s too-warm-to-be-disapproving expression on his face. 
And Jimin still sleeps in their bed, with them. For tradition’s sake, of course. 
He could also argue it’s for the sake of tradition the way his eating hasn’t diminished in the slightest. Even if a situation like that hasn’t repeated again, and Jimin truly doesn’t have an excuse to stuff himself at that anxious desperate pace anymore, he’s now switched to a constant state of snacking. 
Now that he doesn’t have assignments to keep him concentrated, or to have prize-meals, once he finishes said assignments; and that he is all around just hanging out more at their house. Jimin began to make himself comfortable in the couple’s kitchen. Feeling free to rummage through cabinets; during the course of the summer finding more and more of his favorites. Which might have something to do with the one time (in their moment of peak domesticity) Jimin went with the couple to buy groceries and they let him pick out a few things since “you’re there often enough.” 
A joke when he heard it, but those things have become now regular stock in the Min-Jung household. Much to Jimin’s detriment. When he once felt embarrassed to only be at the couple’s house to work on his assignments. Now he feels guilty of emptying their kitchen.
But they’re so encouraging. If not to say, they’re the ones filling Jimin’s plate. Whether it’s giving him second or sometimes third servings of their dinner. Or taking the empty bowl of snacks Jimin has by his side on the couch, only to come back with it filled again. And all this on top of Jimin’s slow wanderings into the kitchen, standing on his toes as he reaches for the couple’s cabinets. Already accustomed with where to find his stuff, and stray away from Hoseok’s granola (He’s invited Jimin to try it… but he’s grown a taste for… yummier things). 
Jimin notices a shift, Hoseok cuddles him closer, even if the situation like the one of his last assignment didn’t repeat. Hoseok’s hands still wander and pat and praise where they can get away with. Which is way more than whatever Hoseok is doing. But he likes this. The push and pull, the giddy smiles and playful glances. It feels like something that would’ve made highschool Jimin swoon, but now not only is he different and (in his personal opinion) much better and matured, but Hoseok is too. These past months it’s felt like all he has been doing is rediscovering his old crushes and falling for their new selves all over again. 
He hasn’t been noticing that shift… with Yoongi. Always friendly, always warm. Always indulging to Jimin. But at arms length. Still some of that hesitance from highschool clinging to him. The younger can’t say he blames him. But instead he is getting mixed feelings about all the attention Hoseok has been giving him.
Is this okay?
Nothing ever actually happened, Jimin could really just be making all this up, his highschool hopes and dreams coming back to haunt him; due to all the Hoseok-Yoongi exposure. He can imagine it. Yoongi and Hoseok looking at him with a fond warm smile, the one they’ve given Jimin all of his youth. Seeing the two of them fall in love while they were probably aware of the younger’s feelings. Kind but so impossibly condescending. The idea of possibly putting himself in that position is enough of a motivation to push these thoughts to the back of his mind; and rather enjoy this while he can. 
Living almost exclusively in his gym shorts, the waistband of which feels tighter as the summer goes on. The hems at his legs digging into his thighs when they’ve never done that before. Sinking into his ass as he walks. All his shirts are constantly stretched over… his belly. 
This lethargic lifestyle… It made Jimin gain a few. Maybe more. He’d worry about it if Hoseok and Yoongi weren’t treating him all the same, encouraging and doting him with anything he wants. And, Hoseok in particular, Jimin is sure he is touchier. Patting him all over, maybe that’s when Jimin should have noticed the fact he was getting softer all around, before properly plumping up. But… Hoseok’s praise and hands feel too good to focus on anything else. 
It was definitely there, though. Comments like “Your appetite nowadays is something else.” When Jimin is reaching for thirds, stomach is already heavy with a meal but still roomy for more. Still not stuffed over the edge, where he gets breathless, red, and a little sweaty. 
“Got you a refill. Since I know you can work your way through a whole bag of these.” He chuckles while setting another bowl of cookies next to Jimin on the couch. His usual spot in the house nowadays. Even when he is producing he hasn’t been in the studio much at all. He likes to joke that it gives him war flashbacks. 
He feels a bit like an idiot for not noticing. Only really realizing he’s fattened up when he needs to pull his gym shorts under his belly. That hangs comfortably over the waistband and pushes forward, squishy muffin top clinging to his shirt too. Probably the only thing keeping it from riding up the curve of his gut. Though he can feel the sliver of skin up his chubby back when he sinks into his comfortable side of the couch. 
The tightness follows up his thickened waist, where rolls were stacking up comfortably. There’s a logo on the front of his shirt, that’s stretched white from the expanse of his chest. Rounded, pudgy and emasculated. He gives a tentative squeeze. No sight of muscle, thumb and index sinking right in. 
Even the sleeves feel tight sinking into the new chub that hangs from his arms. And the collar of the shirt seems nearly suffocating. Not to mention, this has been the hardest summer has ever been for him. Needing the constant company of the AC. He turns it off out of pity for Hoseok and Yoongi’s electricity bill. But it’s only a few minutes until he starts getting sticky with sweat. 
Jimin hasn’t just gained a few, he’s fat. And he let himself be blissfully ignorant for most of the summer. 
But, then again, Hoseok doesn’t seem to be against it. 
And Yoongi… Well he hasn’t even acknowledged it even happened. 
Hoseok must be the only one who has a thing for it. Just like he seems to be the one who has a thing for Jimin anyway….
If he sounds a bit sulky. He is. 
Though, his conflicted feelings about his weight gain, liking it, liking Hoseok like it, and feeling frustrated at Yoongi’s lack of response, aren’t enough to keep him from showing up. Lately he doesn’t even have to warn the couple, Jimin knows their schedules already. 
Yoongi opens the door for him. “Hey.” Even if he wanted to, Jimin can’t read into Yoongi’s actions. Always so genuine and so particularly warm towards the younger. 
“Hi hyung.” He really tries not to let his own intentions with them ruin the amazing relationship he already has, especially with Yoongi. Who’s only ever given support and love in Jimin’s life. They reach for a hug, the few instances in which Yoongi ever so much as touches him. But they’re always the same, perfectly respectable. His broad hands spread in the upper part of Jimin’s back. Even as the younger’s belly is big enough to overspill from the sides of Yoongi’s torso. Not too long. Perfectly standard. Almost calculated when he separates.
Okay, maybe Jimin is reading too deep into Yoongi.
“Smells delicious.” He puts a giddy smile on his face, and Yoongi rolls his eyes. As if pretending the only reason he didn’t go above and beyond in his cooking is Jimin’s almost daily appearances. 
“Got some Ssambap ready.” That answer alone makes Jimin groan in delight as he walks further into the apartment. 
“Hiii!” He exclaims, waiting for an eager Hoseok to rush to greet him. Give him a proper hug. Hmf. “Is he in the studio?” It wouldn’t be the first time he had to pretty much keep his hand pressed on the doorbell to get the producer couple to take off their headphones and notice he was outside. 
“No, no, Miss Jung had some problems with her car. Hoseok just went to help out.” That makes Jimin’s head turn over his shoulder. Shit-eating smile already on his face. 
“Miss Jung?” 
“Hoseok’s mom.” Yoongi states simply.
“You call your boyfriend’s mom ‘Miss’?” He can’t help the giggle that slips out as he says it. Getting the respected reaction when Yoongi scoffs jokingly offended. “You’ve been together for like 9 years!” 
“I’m a respectful son in law!” He whines. Before his face morphs into a pout. “And she is a very scary woman.” 
That makes Jimin burst into a fit of giggles. Folding over himself, feeling the overhang of his belly fully press against his lap. Shirt riding up his back for him to quickly adjust it down when he stands back up right. 
“You are adorable.” “I don’t know why I keep letting you come here.”  Yoongi deadpans, eyes looking particularly anywhere that isn’t Jimin and his hands adjusting this shirt to fit over his love handles. Ouch.
“Because Hoseok likes me.” If Jimin were bolder he wouldn’t have said it in such a joking tone. But for the sake of keeping the peace. He’s now becoming acutely aware of how long it’s been since he and Yoongi hung out alone. “And because you’ve become incapable of cooking for two anymore.” That gets a smile out of him. 
“I did enough for us to eat ssambap for breakfast and lunch tomorrow…” He confesses. “Are you hungry?” 
“Always.” Jimin grins and follows the older to the kitchen, the smell is downright mouth-watering. But he is stopped as he tries to set the table. 
“No no, I’ll take stuff to the studio. I wanna show you what I’m working on.” The small smile on Yoongi’s face is enough to make Jimin’s stomach twist in excitement. No matter the inner conundrum Jimin has, he will always be excited for either of his hyungs’ music. Especially when he has that confident smile on his face. Yoongi looks amazing when he is confident. 
Is it excitement he feels? Or are those just the butterflies? 
“Got it.” He interrupts himself to nod and turn on his heel. It’s been at least a few months since he’s nestled into the studio. But it feels just as familiar as it did that last time when he handed in his final work… And also all that stuff happened during his final hand in. 
It does feel more cozy than he remembers, feeling himself get hot in the smaller room as he walks to his designated chair. What must’ve been an old one that either Hoseok or Yoongi used. At least judging by the screech it lets out as Jimin settles his weight into it. 
Jimin looks down at himself, it’s a tight fit. His sides nearing the edge of the chair, nearly grazing the armrests. Though he can feel his thighs sink a little into them, as well as overspill from the edge of the chair. Jimin says feel, because he can’t get a proper look at it. His belly, only cramped forward by the armrests, takes a comfortable seat on half of his lap. 
With pursed lips, Jimin makes himself bounce gently onto the chair. His belly slaps against his lap, and the rest of him jiggles in unison. But the chair only gives a few creaks in complaint. 
Okay, he’s good-
Yoongi clears his throat; the younger snaps his face in his direction to find him standing by the door. Did he just see Jimin testing if the chair could hold his weight? 
“I’ll–I’ll go get the uh… the food.” Jimin’s heart sinks to the pit of his stomach with the awkward look on the older’s face. Nearly fleeing the scene before he could catch Jimin behaving like the hog he turned himself into. 
Or well… The one they encouraged him into becoming.
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A bitter taste takes over his tongue, if he finds it so uncomfortable, then maybe he shouldn’t have been so doting towards Jimin. Let him go completely crazy these past three months, just to show him rejection once he’s gone too far. Once Jimin started realizing he actually still cares what his hyungs think about him. A little bit more than he’s proud to admit; a lot more than he has any right to. 
The sweet smell of ssambap, the pork belly caramelized by its own fat, fills the room as Yoongi walks in with a tray with the big serving, some lettuce, rice, kimchi and two little bowls for them. That little smile is back on his face, like he is trying to brush off the awkwardness of barley a few minutes ago. The taste on Jimin’s mouth becomes unbearingly bitter. Maybe that’s why he is so eager to reach for the assortment of little dishes beginning to assemble his ssambap; while Yoongi begins to open the file he wanted to show him. 
His mind feels far away, deep into himself. It feels unfair that Jimin is being rejected like this when Yoongi and Hoseok were the ones to instigate it. But then again, part of him wonders if the oldest took notice of how Jimin and Hoseok’s relationship became more playful; flirtier. That would be a pretty justified anger. 
“Okay, this is for the opening of a short film they hired me to do.” Yoongi eyes briefly at Jimin with a smile; the younger already with the perfect, maybe a bit overstuffed, piece of lettuce in his hand. “Tell me what you think.” 
Even before he is turning to play the song, Jimin is pushing the ssambap into his mouth, brushing the hem of his stretched lips. Okay, really, overstuffed that one. But he can’t help but feel a little bit seductive as he is wrapping his plump lips around his chubby index finger that pushed the bite in and slipped it out. Already making a second one as he chews. The sucky thing about this dish is, there’s really no way for Jimin to eat ravenously as he has gotten used to. But Jimin can at least let himself relax; feel a bit more confident as the delicious crunchy and perfectly oily pork belly reaches his tongue. 
He has to hold back the moan that threatens to resonate in the back of his throat; it would definitely be disrespectful to interrupt the song with his gorging. Song that by the way, has this ethereal feel to it, gently creating the dreamy setting. It only feels fair that Jimin quickly scrambles to prepare a second bite, only to slowly lean back in the poor office chair. And not even the loud creak can ruin the religious experience that takes over his senses as he closes his eyes, letting himself get lost in the music, followed by the orgasmic balance of flavors that take over his mouth as he drops his jaw and manages to fit the humongous bite in. 
But… The sudden snap of the lumbar support of the chair, with the loud thud of Jimin falling to the ground. That’s enough to snap both of them out of the listening experience. Hitting the carpet floor with a thud and a loud. Not giving Jimin time to react before he is “oufing” against the floor staring at the ceiling. Taking the entire seat of the chair with him and leaving behind the headless wheeled legs. 
Yoongi comes into view from above, looking as stunned as Jimin feels. Maybe a little less out of breath. 
“A-are you okay?” The younger only now has time to feel the mortifying embarrassment, as Yoongi kneels at his side offering his hand. Eyebrows raised almost comically with worry. 
“Y…yeah-” He can only breathe out a reply, following the way Yoongi’s widened eyes graze along his fatteened body. The shock threw away any attempt at subtlety, letting Jimin see… the mortified expression.
Jimin’s heart tightens. Its disgust Yoongi is pathetically trying to mask. 
“I’m–I’m fine, I’m fine.” His chubby hand shoos Yoongi as he slowly starts sitting up. “Ow…” He pouts his lips. Yoongi’s hands rub down his own thighs nervously, not knowing what to do with himself. 
That’s okay, Jimin doesn’t know what to do with himself either. Though, as if to make matters worse, the front door opens. 
Obviously too flabbergasted to act on his own, still looking at Jimin’s body with panicked eyes, Yoongi screams “Office!” Not giving the youngest time to react before hurried steps are thumping quickly through the apartment. Hoseok probably noticed the slight panic in Yoongi’s tone. Both his and Jimin’s head snapping towards the door frame when Hoseok’s slim silhouette appears; in complete quiet as if they were getting caught in the middle of something they shouldn’t have. At least Jimin felt that way. 
“What’s wrong??” Hoseok speaks before he gets there. Both Yoongi and Jimin’s head snapping towards the door frame when Hoseok’s slim silhouette appears; in complete quiet as if they were getting caught in the middle of something they shouldn’t have. At least Jimin felt that way. Hoseok’s eyes bulged out at the crime scene before him, switching between Yoongi, dejectedly kneeling on the floor and, and Jimin laying with the armrests of the chair still squeezing into his sides. 
“Sorry about the chair.” He blurts, unmoving from his spot on the carpet. 
There’s a brief moment of quiet. Before Hoseok, folds over, bursting out laughing. High pitched and cutting through the uncomfortable silence Yoongi and Jimin were drowning in. Hand having to hold onto the door frame to hold himself from falling. 
“Oh Yoonie…” His voice is 3 octaves higher and breathier, through barely contained laughter. “I leave for an hour… And this is what you get into-!” He can’t finish his point, interrupted by another fit of laughter. 
“Shut up!” Yoongi’s voice also sounds higher pitched, for all the opposite reasons. Outraged, whiny and embarrassed. 
“Enjoying yourself?” A teasing tone clings to his voice, and Hoseok has that distinctive shit-eating grin. The mocking in his words does nothing to soothe Jimin’s self consciousness about the older. 
“The opposite" Jimin snorts humorlessly. “You should see how he is looking at me, hyung.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out that bitter, and the eyeing he gives Yoongi doesn’t help. But it’s something that has been eating him up, and Yoongi should seriously be more subtle about his distaste for Jimin’s weight gain. 
“What do you mean?” The oldest’s eyes are suddenly fully on him. Making Jimin feel extremely exposed. The idea of backing down and brushing it on flashing through his mind. 
“You’ve been weird for weeks now!” The whine slips out of his mouth before he can even consider that alternative. “Ever since I got fat!” His chubby pointy finger points at Yoongi’s gobsmacked expression. 
“W-what?” Even Hoseok looks stunned. 
“I’m sorry if my weight gain, that you two encouraged, is ruining the mood for you! And whatever’s happening between us!” Jimin can’t help but snort, he is tired of the confusion. “But you could try and be, I don’t know, nicer about it!” Jimin is suddenly very aware of the fact that he is screaming. Suddenly shrinking a bit into himself and looking anywhere else; he finds a nice spot on the floor. “A-and help me up.” 
The silence is palpable, at least for the two seconds before a hollering laughter makes the walls shake. Hoseok nearly folding over himself and having to grip the door frame to avoid falling down. It’s shocking enough that even Yoongi and JImin share a puzzled look before looking at Hoseok.
“You told me– You told me you were going to tell him! Yah!” He manages to finish a sentence but it’s attached to a string of giggles. Jimin was startled enough to ponder if Hoseok was talking to him, but Yoongi beats him to it. 
“I–I was going to!” His eyes darted between the youngest and his boyfriend. “The time just wasn’t right.” Jimin’s own eyes are bulging outwards between the couple, huffing as he sits up from where he was laying on the floor. 
“Tell me what?!” 
There’s another beat of silence. 
“Yoongichi here, has a weight gain kink.” The mocking smile doesn’t leave his face. Jimin feels his heart stammer erratically. “And I was dumb enough to think he would’ve told you by now… With how much weight you put on and all.” 
He is at a loss of words, though Yoongi speaks before he can even begin to formulate words. “You’re making me sound like a creep! It’s not like that!” He speaks through a pout, looking at Jimin with desperation. Who can’t offer any comforting words back, jaw hanging limp in complete shock. 
“We— I didn’t plan on making you gain any weight.” He explains exasperated, suddenly not looking at anyone’s eyes. “You were just so spent with work and–and it just was my way of looking after you!” 
Jimin never would’ve considered… 
“I obviously uhm… noticed the gain. But I didn’t want to freak you out.” Yoongi does dare to look at Jimin in the eyes then, genuine and a little scared. “I may have taken it too far with my acting. And caused the opposite effect I wanted. I’m sorry.” His face scrunches up into a flinch the more he goes on, as if preparing for another one of Jimin’s explosive reactions. 
“I…” The youngest starts to speak, mainly because he can feel it’s his que to respond. But without the slightest clue what he should say. Seeing from the corner of his eye Hoseok stepped closer to where the pair was sitting on the floor. “You like it?” His eyes darted between the two of them, not able to help the hopeful tone of his voice; impossible to hide it after these old feelings resurfaced with full force. 
“I don’t have a kink for it, personally.” Hoseok’s hand finds Yoongi’s shoulder. “But I think you look beautiful, Jiminie.” The oldest is nodding eagerly. 
“I don’t like you just because of the weight either.” His face is serious but his nodding is desperate, as if still scared of giving the Jimin the wrong idea, whose heart is stammering out of his ribs. 
“I like the weight.” He sounds more sure than he has all night. Nodding softly as his eyes dart between the two. “I like getting to hang out with you again, and getting taken care of by you.” Once he starts he doesn’t think he can stop. “And I like that you two don’t look at me like I’m a kid anymore, and finally feeling like I have a chance.” He smiles a bit, Jimin knows he is risking it all, but he can’t bring himself to care when it feels so good to let go of all these emotions.
Hoseok kneels behind his boyfriend, at eye level with Yoongi. He is biting his lip with an endeared smile on his face. “Well… we have all changed since then.” 
“You’re not a tween anymore.” Yoongi jokes with a shit-eating smile that shows at least some ease on his part. 
“You are 2 years older than me.” The look on the oldest face eases him enough to retort back. “Only one year younger than Hobi hyung. You two just behave like senior citizens.” Hoseok breaks into giggles and Jimin feels quite accomplished about that. 
“It feels more drastic in highschool! You know that!” His melodic laughter fills the room. Jimin feels his own shoulders slump in proper relief. And he catches the older looking at Hoseok with lovesick eyes as his laughter calms down. “Babe… offer him dessert.” He whispers to Yoongi with an amused smile. 
“Oh!” He smiles a little embarrassed before turning his face back to Jimin. “Min-ah, do you think you have any more roo-” 
“Yes.” Jimin answers without giving Yoongi time to finish. “Help me up.”
 gif credits!1st gif : gainerbf on tumblr, October 3rd 2023
2nd-4th gif : overfedbutterball on tumblr, September 11th 2023
5th photo: fatbellygirl-piggy on tumblr, November 16th 2023
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