Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/11876805. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con, Underage Category: M/M Fandom: 방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS Relationship: Jeon_Jungkook/Everyone, Jeon_Jungkook/Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster, Jeon Jungkook/Park_Jimin, Jeon_Jungkook/Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin, Jeon_Jungkook/Kim Taehyung_|_V, Jeon_Jungkook/Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope, Jeon_Jungkook/Kim Seokjin_|_Jin/Kim_Taehyung_|_V, Jeon_Jungkook/Min_Yoongi_|_Suga Character: Jeon_Jungkook, Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster, Park_Jimin_(BTS), Kim_Seokjin_| Jin, Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope, Jeon_Junghyun, Kim_Yugyeom, Kunpimook_Bhuwakul_|_BamBam Additional Tags: Molestation, Trains, Public_Transportation, Public_Humiliation, Situational_Humiliation, Exhibitionism, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Non- Consensual_Touching, Bottom_Jeon_Jungkook, Alternate_Universe, Dirty Talk, Daddy_Kink, Overstimulation, Blackmail, Top_Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap Monster, Top_Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin, Top_Kim_Taehyung_|_V, Switch_Kim_Taehyung |_V, Feminization, Forced_Feminization, Sexual_Abuse, Explicit_Sexual Content, Rimming, Threesome_-_M/M/M, Orgasm_Delay/Denial, Sex_Toys, Manipulation, Non-Consensual_Spanking, Subdrop, Emotional_Manipulation, Oral_Sex, Safeword_Misuse Stats: Published: 2017-08-25 Updated: 2018-03-30 Chapters: 8/? Words: 32106 ****** In The Lowest Deep, A Lower Deep ****** by augustdarling Summary Jungkook accompanies his brother home on the train after dance practice every day. And every day, someone on the train is waiting for him. Notes MIND. THE. TAGS. Please be aware that there are going to be non-con and seriously messed-up dynamics in this fic which may be triggering or upsetting. This is not, in any shape or form, something that I would espouse in real life. The portrayal of these actions, and the reactions of the victim to them, is, I admit, incredibly unhealthy. Please exercise self-care and refrain from reading further if this may affect your mental well-being. Stay safe. Title from John Milton's Paradise Lost (Book IV, The Argument), because I'm incapable of not being pretentious when I'm writing filth. "Be then his love accursed, since, love or hate, To me alike it deals eternal woe. Nay, cursed be thou; since against his thy will Chose freely what it now so justly rues. Me miserable! which way shall I fly Infinite wrauth and infinite despair? Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell; And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep Still threatening to devour me opens wide, To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven." See the end of the work for more notes ***** Chapter 1 ***** “You know I’m the big brother here, right?” Jimin said, raising an eyebrow as Jungkook shot a narrow-eyed glare at a half-asleep office worker who had gotten a little too close, swaying exhaustedly in Jimin’s direction. “And that I can absolutely take care of myself? You’re being ridiculous.” “Yeah, hyung, but you’re tiny and cute and you’re way too nice to people,” Jungkook argued. He had his arms braced on either side of his brother, forming a wall to separate him from the rest of the passengers. “Whereas I have pointy elbows and no qualms about using them on anyone who tries to squish you. It isn’t safe for you to take the train home by yourself when you stay late at the dance studio. You’re always so tired after, I worry you might fall asleep and miss our stop and end up in China or something.” Jimin sighed. “Presumptuous brat,” he said, pinching Jungkook’s cheek. “This is why you get teased about having a brother complex.” “Shut up, hyung,” Jungkook said, reddening. “I don’t.” Jimin rolled his eyes, smiling knowingly. “Fine, do what you want,” he said. He dug into his bag and pulled out his notes “I’m going to try to study a bit, okay?” Jungkook nodded. The fact that Jimin was an exam student was half the reason why he’d stubbornly insisted on coming to get his brother after practice. He resolved to be quiet so that Jimin could take the time to cram. At first he thought he had just imagined it. Something brushed against his backside. He frowned but shrugged it off, thinking someone had just pressed against him in the packed train. After a beat, another touch came. He froze. Someone had their hand on his ass. He swallowed hard at the hot, heavy weight rubbing against his cheeks. Should he shout? Turn around, punch the other guy in the face? He took quick, shallow breaths as stop after stop went by and the hand became bolder. “Hmm?” Jimin asked, glancing up at him. “You okay, Jungkook?” “Y-yeah,” he stuttered as the palm squeezed his ass. He didn’t dare say a word, because while Jimin would no doubt rip off that person’s arm and make them eat it, Jimin would definitely never let him accompany him home again if he knew was happening. A finger slipped into the crack of his pants, rubbing insistently up and down through the fabric. He shuddered, wanting to pull away but unable to move in the crowded train. It felt so strange. No one had ever touched him there before. Even he hadn’t ever explored his ass. “Don’t worry about me, hyung, just keep reviewing.” The finger pressed in as far as the cloth would allow, trying to push into his hole through his pants and underwear. “Ah—!” Jimin glanced up at the noise. “Kook?” Thankfully, at that moment the train slowed. “It’s our stop, hyung,” he said hurriedly. “Come on, let’s go.” Jimin nodded and let Jungkook grab his arm and pull him towards the door. Jimin tucked his notes back into his bag as they started walking through the station. “Thanks, Kookie. I have to admit it was nice to use the time to study instead of having to deal with the crowd, for once,” Jimin said. “I’ve been really stressed about the upcoming tests. Are you going to come pick me up again tomorrow? Hyung will treat you to ice cream after dance practice as thanks.” Jungkook bit his lip, hesitating “Uh, yeah,” he said, trying to put the incident out of his mind. “Of course, hyung!” *** It was happening again. Jungkook let out shocked, sharp breath. He risked a glance at his brother, but Jimin was completely absorbed in his studies. Whoever was behind him had both hands kneading his ass, spreading his cheeks through the fabric and caressing his crack with long fingers. He shook helplessly under the touch. “Cute.” He froze at the deep voice, lips ghosting against his ear. He bit his tongue, choking back the whimper that had risen in his throat. The man chuckled, fingers digging into his ass so hard he was sure it would leave bruises. “Kookie?” He snapped back to himself to look at Jimin’s concerned face. “I’m fine, hyung. I, uh, I think I might be coming down with something,” he said, adding a fake cough for effect. “What? You should have said. You should be resting at home instead of coming to get me,” Jimin said disapprovingly. “I’ll make you some soup when we get back.” “But hyung, you’re an exam student,” Jungkook protested as the rubbing continued. He forced himself to remain still, ignoring the way his voice cracked when the fingers circled insistently at his hole. “You need every moment you can to study. I’ll take some vitamins later. It’s no big deal, I promise!” *** Jungkook didn’t know when the dread in his stomach had begun to turn into a strange, throbbing kind of sensation, like something was aching inside of him. For more than a month, he persisted in picking up his brother. And the strange man persisted in touching him while he tried not to let his legs buckle at the caresses. He wondered sometimes how the hell Jimin could fail to notice that his little brother was getting groped right in front of him. But then, he knew how Jimin could get when he was really in the zone: Jimin’s concentration was a thing of legend, as evidenced by the fact that he could stay in the dance studio until the sun rose without ever realizing that Jungkook had slipped in somewhere around midnight and settled down to wait until Jimin’s body remembered things as mundane as food and/or sleep. Or, more likely, until one of the other members of the crew straggled in and started yelling at Jimin for overdoing it and for not even sparing a thought for his little brother falling asleep waiting for him on the hard studio floor. Every time he thought of staying home, of just this once managing to avoid the unwanted touches, Jimin would call him sounding more stressed than usual as he ranted about his schoolwork, or he would send a cute selca of himself at practice captioned with something sweet like ‘Hyung’s working hard! Can’t wait to see you later, Kookie!’ And Jungkook, who was far, far too aware that he could never say no to Jimin, raced to get to the station after school and dragged himself back on the train every time. And every time, the man would be waiting for him. He whined quietly, biting down on his lip as his hole twitched under the attention. To allay suspicion, he had suggested that Jimin use earphones on the way home so that Jungkook couldn’t distract him from his studying. Now he allowed himself to breathe out a few quiet noises, though that only seemed to encourage his molester. The man bent down and licked at the shell of his ear. Jungkook let out a squeak as Jimin carried on reading obliviously, his back to Jungkook. “You know you’re moving your hips by yourself?” His eyes widened and he realized with horror that he had gotten hard. “I just rubbed your hole a little and you’re already stiff and aching for me. You like being touched like this, don’t you?” “N-no,” he whispered, trembling. “I don’t, I don’t want this—“ “Really, baby? Your mouth might be lying, but your body is more honest.” Jungkook stifled a moan as the hand crept up his waistband and slipped down and inside for the first time, slipping past his boxer briefs. He was wearing sweatpants, a change from his usual jeans or school trousers. He hadn’t thought about how the elastic waist would give the man easier access. The hand was shockingly hot on his bare skin, and for the first time he could feel fingers prodding directly into his hole without layers of cloth to mute the sensation. He bucked into the touch, mewling and throwing back his head. A soft chuckle. “So loud, baby boy.” His face heated when he realized that there were other eyes on him—a disapproving salaryman, a blushing schoolgirl, a couple of smirking boys who were looking openly at the bulge throbbing in his pants. His cock jumped under their scrutiny, precum leaking into his underwear. “I see you’ve got a little exhibitionist streak in you, hmm? Want to give your audience a show?” His hole clenched down on the dry fingertip pressing into his entrance, a rough shock of pleasure racing up his spine. “I see you do. Too bad I can’t give you what you want right now.” Abruptly, the hand pulled away. It took him a moment to realize that the train had pulled to a stop, and Jimin was tugging his earphones out and smiling at Jungkook as he tugged his younger brother off the train. Jimin chattered happily about some new move his senior had showed him at practice, oblivious to the erection he was desperately trying to conceal with his bag. “H-hyung, I really, I really have to use the bathroom,” he stammered, unable to bear the pulsing between his legs. Jimin let out a laugh. “Oh, okay. I was wondering why you were so fidgety. I’ll wait for you out here.” Jungkook nodded and made a run for the station’s bathroom. It was thankfully empty as he bolted in and locked himself into a cubicle. Whimpering, he yanked his pants and underwear down to his knees and grabbed his cock. He was unable to keep himself from moaning, the sound echoing off the tiles, loud and obscene. “Fuck, fuck,” he whined, rubbing his tip desperately. His hand sped up, but despite his best efforts his orgasm remained out of reach. He wailed, a high keening noise exploding from his throat as he continued pulling uselessly at his length. His hole ached, so empty. “No…” he whispered, but he stuck his fingers into his mouth as though hypnotized. He sucked them, tears sliding down his cheeks in shame as he coated them in his saliva. Finally, he brought the dripping fingers to his opening and pushed in. “Oh God!” He let out a scream as he came the moment he a pressed his fingers into his hole, whining as he tried to get them in deeper. He fell back against the door, panting and still coming, getting it all over the bathroom floor. He cried quietly, trying to catch his breath through the hitching sobs that racked through him as the humiliation set in. What had he just done? He stared down at the streaks of white at his feet and wondered how he had sunk so low, masturbating with his asshole in a public toilet. “That was gorgeous, baby.” He froze at the familiar voice and looked up. His molester was smirking at him from over the barrier of the next stall, dimples on full display, a smartphone held in one hand and pointed directly down at his shaking figure. “You,” he said, horrified. He smiled darkly. “Nice to finally meet you, Jungkook.” *** ***** Chapter 2 ***** Chapter Summary Jungkook discovers who the man on the train is. And then the man inserts himself into Jungkook's life, and Jungkook can't escape. Chapter Notes #HappyJungkookDay Happy birthday to our bunny! No matter how old he gets though, he's still ARMY's precious baby boy. Uh... I doubt he'd approve of me writing this for his birthday, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ See the end of the chapter for more notes “What the fuck,” Jungkook said, heart hammering in his chest. He became abruptly aware that he was still half-naked. He flushed and grabbed at the pants bunched around his knees, yanking them up as quickly as he could. “That’s useless, Kookie,” the man said, smiling. He was handsome, Jungkook realized; the kind of guy who would have caught his attention walking down the street, tall and self-assured. “I’ve already seen you getting off with your fingers up your ass. It’s a little late to pretend to have any shame now. Now why don’t you come out of there so we can talk and I can check on your hole, baby? I need to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself while you were being so greedy.” “No, stay away,” he hissed. “I’ll—I’ll scream—“ He laughed. “Again, let’s not pretend. I’ve been touching you for more than a month now and you haven’t done anything about it. Also, your adorable brother is waiting outside for you. I suppose you could scream and have him run in here to rescue you, but then…” He held up his phone and swiped at the screen before tilting it in his direction. Jungkook stared in horror as he clearly appeared on the display, fucking himself with his fingers and moaning like he couldn’t get enough. “Then he would find out what a little slut you are.” “Now,” the man said. “Come out, baby.” Jungkook cried as he unbolted his door, stepping out of the stall with fear heavy in his stomach. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Turn around for me.” He obeyed helplessly as he was pushed over to the sinks, leaning heavily against the cold porcelain while his sweatpants were tugged down again. The man knelt down behind him, uncaring of the filthy tiles under his feet, and inspected his swollen hole. “Hmm,” he said, breath hot on the twitching opening. Jungkook tried not to look at his reflection in the mirror, tear-stained and tiny, his lips bitten crimson. He wondered how he would get out and face Jimin without his brother knowing what had just happened. “Looks okay, baby. You might feel sore for a while, but I think you might actually get off on that.” Jungkook tried to shake his head in denial, but it was useless. The man wasn’t even looking up at him. “You were a little rough, but looks like your slutty hole took it well. Lube up, next time. I’ll get you some if you’re so desperate.” He got back to his feet and wiped at the wet streaks on Jungkook’s face. “Shh, sweetheart, shh,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You need to calm down, okay? We have to clean you up now. Jimminie will be wondering what’s taking you so long.” More tears welled up in Jungkook’s eyes at the mention of his brother, but he choked them back as the man turned on the tap and started washing him up. He struggled to take deep breaths, trying to get himself back under control. His clothes were tugged back into place and a quick glance at his reflection had him almost presentable again, though he couldn’t hide the distress on his face as the other man kept an arm slung around his shoulders. “Much better.” As if on cue, the bathroom door opened. “Kookie? You were taking forever, what are you doing in there?” He froze at the sound of Jimin’s voice. “H-hyung,” he stammered, aware of the other man’s heat radiating where it was pressed up against his body, casual and possessive. The man smiled. “Hey, Jimminie!” Jimin blinked, drawing up short. “Namjoon-hyung? Kookie, you know Namjoon- hyung?” “Oh, is this the brother you keep going on and on about?” Namjoon asked. Jungkook stared at the pair of them, so comfortable around each other. If his brother knew—if he knew that Namjoon had just been staring at his hole, that he’d been groping him for a month, that this man had a video of him masturbating on his phone— “Small world. I came in and the kid was throwing up in one of the stalls, poor thing, and thought I’d see if I could help. You should keep a better eye on your little brother.” “What?” Jimin’s face morphed into pure concern. “Kookie, aren’t you feeling well? I thought you’d been behaving oddly.” He stepped into Jungkook’s personal space and laid a small, cool hand on his flushed cheek. He mewled at the touch despite himself and shuddered when he felt Namjoon shift, something hard against his backside. It was so subtle that Jimin didn't even seem to notice that his brother was still pressed flush against Namjoon’s front. “You’re kind of warm, Kook. We’d better get you home right away.” “I could give you guys a ride,” Namjoon offered. “My car’s just outside.” “No, please,” Jungkook said. Jimin looked at him in askance, carding tiny, gentle fingers through his sweaty bangs. Tears stung at Jungkook’s eyes again. “I don’t—don’t want to impose.” “Don’t be silly,” Namjoon said, still grinding his length against Jungkook’s ass. “Believe me, Kook-ah, the pleasure is all mine.” *** “Thanks again for the ride, Namjoon-hyung,” Jimin chirped as they pulled to a stop outside the Jeon residence. Jungkook had sat mutely in the backseat while Namjoon and Jimin had chattered on the ride home, trading anecdotes about common friends and what they’d been up to of late. “Kookie, let’s get you upstairs and into some pyjamas. I’ll buy some fever medicine for you, okay?” “Your parents aren’t in?” Namjoon asked, noting that the lights were all off. Jimin shook his head. “No, dad’s always away on business, and mom’s with him as usual. Junghyun’s been staying at a friend’s house for God knows how long,” he said, referring to their other brother. “It’s just me and Kookie.” “Let me give you a hand,” Namjoon said. “I’ll help Jungkook out of the car, you get the door open.” Jimin flashed Namjoon a grateful smile. “Really? Thanks, hyung.” He bounded out of the car while Namjoon strolled leisurely around to the back and opened it. “Come out, baby,” he said, smirking down at him. Jungkook shuddered as he was pulled out of the car, Namjoon looping a proprietary arm around his waist. Jimin was still struggling with his keys—the lock had a tendency to stick—and Namjoon took a moment to nibble and lick at his ear. Jungkook groaned, knees buckling. “Ah—“ “Oops.” Namjoon took Jungkook’s weight easily. “Jimminie, do you need a hand tonight? I think Jungkook might be really sick.” Jimin looked anxiously back at them as he finally got the door open and ushered them in. “Do we need to take you to the hospital, Kookie?” Jimin asked. “I’m fine,” Jungkook tried to insist, wetness stinging at his eyes. The hand Namjoon had around his waist had slipped up his shirt, thumb stroking at his skin. “I’m just going to go right to sleep.” “How about you go buy him medicine, and I’ll watch him for you for a little bit, Jimminie?” Namjoon suggested. “Just in case.” Jimin hesitated. “Well…” “No, you really don’t have to!” Jungkook burst out. “I’ll be okay for a little bit by myself, hyung.” To his shock, tears were sliding down his face. “Oh dear,” Namjoon murmured as Jimin looked in panic at his younger brother, who was frantically trying to stifle his sobs. “Kookie, you’re clearly not fine,” Jimin insisted, reaching over and hugging him. Namjoon stepped back and let Jimin comfort Jungkook, petting his hair and rocking him while Jungkook melted into the embrace. “Be a good dongsaeng and let your elders take care of you.” He shot Namjoon an apologetic look. “If you’re really sure it’s okay, would you mind…? I’ll just pop by the store and get some things, and I’d rather not have him by himself right now…” “Of course, Jimin,” Namjoon agreed. “I’ll keep an eye on your beloved Kookie for you.” Jimin laughed, rolling his eyes at him. “You’d better,” he threatened. “Kook, hyung will be right back, okay? Go to bed. Be a good boy for Namjoon-hyung.” He ruffled Jungkook’s hair before leaving. And the two of them were all alone. Namjoon smirked as Jungkook trembled under his dark gaze. “Well, baby? You heard your brother. Let’s get you to bed so you can be a good boy for me.” *** “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Kookie,” Namjoon said patiently as Jungkook stayed frozen in the living room. “The first option is that you lead me to your room so we can play for a little bit, and then we can get you cleaned up and tucked under your sheets before Jimin comes home. Or, and I really don’t mind this either, I can just fuck you right here until Jimin opens the door and walks in on us. What’ll it be?” “Room,” Jungkook rasped, the word catching in his throat. “Good choice, baby.” Jungkook dragged himself up the stairs with leaden feet while Namjoon followed him. “Nice,” Namjoon said, taking note of the neatly-arranged books on the shelves, the deep blue comforter and off-white walls. He chuckled as he picked up the Iron Man plushie that Jimin had given him for his tenth birthday, still holding a place of honor on Jungkook’s bed. “It suits you.” “Why are you doing this?” Jungkook burst out while Namjoon made himself comfortable on Jungkook’s bed, long limbs taking up most of the space. Thankfully, Namjoon didn’t gesture for Jungkook to join him, and he remained standing where he was. “You’re—you’re friends with my brother—“ “Ah. You know, you two don’t act like normal brothers,” Namjoon said thoughtfully. “If he knew what you were doing—“ “Would you like him to?” Namjoon asked. Jungkook flushed and shook his head violently. “I have to admit, I got a little curious. Jimin talks about his adorable brother all the time—Kookie this, Kookie that, Kookie is the cutest, Kookie is a precious, perfect little angel who comes to pick me up from dance practice every day…” “Oh my god,” Jungkook whispered, shaking as he thought of his brother innocently babbling about Jungkook while Namjoon listened to him. “Oh my god, Jimin…” “Kookie loves me so much that he would let a stranger play with his ass on the train for me,” Namjoon sing-songed. “Poor Kookie. I have to admit, though, I didn’t think that you’d be so hungry for it. To the point that you’d need to finger your slutty little hole in a public toilet.” “I’m, I’m not,” Jungkook stammered. “I—“ Namjoon let out a tsk of impatience. “Bad boy. I don’t like liars, Jungkook.” Jungkook bit back the retort that had risen on his tongue. “Do you know what happens to bad boys?” Jungkook felt small under the heavy eyes, pinning him to the spot. “Bad boys get punished.” Jungkook froze. Namjoon smiled at him. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?” His cheeks flushed. “Uh, I, s-s-sort of, but not really?” “It’s a yes or a no, sweetheart. Doesn’t have to be so complicated.” Namjoon cupped his face in his hands. “Have you?” “I—yeah, but it was a joke,” he said quickly. “A joke? Who with?” Namjoon smirked as Jungkook stayed silent. “Ahhhh. I can guess. How delightfully corrupt of the two of you.” He gritted his teeth. “It wasn’t like that—“ He was cut off by Namjoon’s mouth descending on his. Jungkook thought that he’d be rough, bruising; but the kiss was a gentle warmth against his lips. He let out a little gasp as the kiss deepened, and Namjoon slipped his tongue into Jungkook’s mouth. “S-s-stop,” he whimpered, managing to wrench away, dizzy. “I could kiss you forever, precious,” Namjoon murmured, running a thumb along his swollen lips. Jungkook leaned into the touch before remembering himself. “You’re a fucking psycho—“ The smile on Namjoon’s face disappeared. “Is that so? I suppose I should act like it, then. Strip, baby.” Jungkook gaped at him. “What?” “You’ll have to be quick about it—we don’t want Jimin coming back to interrupt us, do we?” Namjoon smirked as the name was enough to get Jungkook tearing his clothes off. “Yes, very good. You’re always so obedient when I bring up your brother. He’s got you well-trained, hmm?” “You’re sick,” Jungkook said. Namjoon admired his naked body and ran a hand over his flexing abs, then reached up to pinch his nipples. “Ah! Oh, oh god—“ “And something else I was wondering about. You really are sensitive everywhere, aren’t you. I thought it was a fluke, but no—when I bite your ears, when I kiss your neck, you get weak in the knees and ready to roll over for it,” Namjoon said, continuing to play with his nubs while Jungkook couldn’t stop moaning. “Have to say though, your nipples are even better. So pink and pretty. I bet I could make you come just from your nipples if I had more time.” He bent down and latched his mouth onto one of them, sucking hard while Jungkook threw his head back in a scream of pleasure, humping up in search of friction. Namjoon grinned. “You’re gagging for it, bunny. I should tell Jimin not to neglect his pet like this.” “Jimin’s not like that. He’s my brother.” “And yet,” Namjoon hummed, “Even as you say the word ‘brother’, you’re getting hard.” Jungkook’s jaw dropped open as he looked down at his treacherous body. His cock was twitching, already beginning to fill with blood. “No,” he whimpered. “That’s not—you were touching me, this is all your fault—“ “Oh? That’s fine with me, baby. This erection is all mine, you say? Your cute little cock is getting hard just for me?” Namjoon grinned, getting down to his knees. “I think I’ll give you a reward for that. But first you need to learn how to ask for it.” “Ask what?” Jungkook whispered, tearing up as Namjoon’s hot breath ghosted over his member. His hips jumped at the sensation, trying to get more. Namjoon hummed, so close that Jungkook could almost feel the vibrations on his cock. “I’ll make it easy for you since this is your first time, Kookie. Just say, ‘Daddy, please put your mouth on my needy cock’. “ Jungkook’s cheeks turned red. “I—I can’t do that,” he sputtered, light-headed. “Please, please don’t make me. I can’t.” “Baby, I think you’ll find that you can,” Namjoon said, rubbing his tip while Jungkook wailed above him. “What’s the matter? Do you not like that part where you call me ‘daddy’? Should I change it for you—make it ‘hyung’ instead?” His eyes gleamed cruelly as he kept stroking Jungkook, not letting up while the boy let out high-pitched whimpers above him. “Does ‘daddy’ not do it for you, baby? Do you want to scream ‘hyung’ while coming in my mouth? Is that what you need to get off?” Jungkook broke into tears. Not Jimin, anything but Jimin. “Daddy, please put your mouth on my needy cock,” he sobbed. “Oh, Kookie,” Namjoon said tenderly, rubbing a hand on his shaking flank and trying to calm him down. “Well done, baby, you did so well. Shh, it’s okay. Daddy’s got you.” Jungkook mewled as Namjoon’s hot mouth engulfed his member, sucking him gently. He pulled off to pepper little kisses up and down his length while Jungkook thrashed, burying his hands in Namjoon’s hair. He’d never gotten a blowjob before, and the sensation was almost too much for him. He froze when a finger circled at his hole, rough and perfect. “Ah—no,” he wailed, thrusting up into Namjoon’s mouth and back onto the invading digit. “I’m going to—I’m going to come—“ Namjoon stopped just long enough to smile at him. “Go ahead, baby. Come in daddy’s mouth.” Jungkook screamed as he came hard, Namjoon’s hands the only thing stopping him from toppling like a ragdoll onto the floor. Namjoon swallowed with ease, still rubbing at his opening. Finally Jungkook squirmed with overstimulation, trying to get away. “Too much,” he gasped. “Please, stop.” Namjoon didn’t even slow down, still sucking at his sensitive cock while Jungkook cried out in pain. “No more, no, I can’t, I can’t, it hurts, daddy, please!” Namjoon finally pulled off him. “What a good baby,” he crooned as Jungkook shook helplessly. He stood up and put an arm around him, tilting his face up for a kiss. Mind foggy, Jungkook let him have his way, their tongues tangling together. He was dimly aware that he could taste his own cum in his mouth, but he could barely get his limbs to function, let alone enough brainpower to string together a sentence. “So beautiful, so good for me. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, precious.” “Daddy,” he slurred, dazed, as Namjoon’s hands guided him down onto the bed. He felt at a remove, like it was happening to someone else, as Namjoon came back with a warm washcloth and wiped him clean, and found his favorite Iron Man pyjamas to change into. “That was perfect, baby,” Namjoon said, kissing his forehead before getting up to turn off the lights. Jungkook was already half-asleep as Namjoon flipped the switch. “Goodnight. I’ll come see you again soon.” Chapter End Notes *hides from self* One of these days I'm going to stop facepalming in embarrassment at the fact that I am apparently capable of writing something like this. But in the words of BTS: NOT TODAY. ***** Chapter 3 ***** Chapter Summary Namjoon introduces Jungkook to some friends. Chapter Notes #HappyNamjoonDay I hope our beloved leader has a fabulous birthday! Please go and greet him! See the end of the chapter for more notes Jungkook was never good at mornings. Normally he suffered from insomnia and had a hard time falling asleep in the first place; and when he slept, he was almost impossible to rouse. He woke up in slow increments as his alarm went off, wincing at the sunlight streaming through his window. He snuggled back under the warm sheets before the memories from last night hit him. “Oh my god,” he whispered, burying his face into his pillow. A little soreness radiated from his hole, stinging but not entirely unpleasant. He noticed his phone lit up on the nightstand beside him and grabbed it. Daddy 07: 02 a.m. Good morning, baby. Did you sleep well? He gaped at the message, sent only a few moments before he’d woken. He hadn’t set his alarm last night; it must have been Namjoon, perfectly timed so that he would get his message just as he opened his eyes. The unfamiliar number flashed tauntingly up at him. Suddenly his skin felt too tight, the room closing around him. “Kookie?” A knock at the door, Jimin breezing in like always. He sat down on the bed and laid a hand on Jungkook’s forehead. “No temperature, that’s good. You feel a little chilled, though. How’re you feeling? Better? You were completely knocked out when I got home.” “Y-yeah,” he stammered. “Just tired, I guess.” “I’m not surprised,” Jimin huffed, stroking Jungkook’s hair. He arched up into the touch like a cat, making Jimin smile. “You’re always overdoing it, Kookie. I left medicine on your nightstand, but I didn’t want to wake you up.” His phone vibrated again, and unable to help it, he glanced down at the message awaiting him. Daddy 07: 08 a.m. Stay home from school today, baby. Daddy’s got plans for you. He whimpered. “Kookie?” “Hyung,” he said, wrapping his arms around his brother and burying his face in Jimin’s shoulder, letting himself shake for just a moment. Jimin made a distressed sound, rubbing his back in comfort. “Oh, Kookie,” Jimin crooned, shushing him and pressing sweet kisses on the top of his head. “Kookie, what’s wrong, where does it hurt? You’re breaking my heart, here.” “M-my head h-hurts, I-I think I’ll take the day off,” he managed to choke out, the words muffled in Jimin’s jacket. His brother made a noise of assent, still rocking him gently. “Do you need me to stay with you? I could skip today too.” “N-no, hyung,” he said, wishing he could say yes and derail Namjoon’s plans. But then, he wasn’t sure what kind of payback Namjoon would exact if things didn’t go his way, either. “You can’t, you have to make sure you don’t miss anything for exam prep—“ “You’re more important,” Jimin insisted. A tiny smile tugged at Jungkook’s lips. “Hyung,” he sighed, curling even closer to Jimin. “Ugh, seriously? Kook, get off him. Jimin, stop indulging him.” Junghyun appeared in his doorway, looking annoyed. “You’re going to be late. You’re an exam student. I can stay with Jungkook if he really needs someone to be with him.” “Shut up and mind your own business, Junghyun,” Jimin snapped. “You know who’s late? You. I know your class started ten minutes ago. So fuck off, or I’ll tell dad that you haven’t been home for the last three days.” Junghyun hissed at him. “Fine, you two do what you want,” he said bitterly, grabbing his bag and stomping down the stairs, shouting behind him. “Like anyone would want to be stuck in this house with just the two of you, always all over each other. Gross. You guys need to back the fuck up and remember that you’re related, not married.” Jungkook cringed as the front door slammed behind Junghyun. “Don’t worry about him,” Jimin soothed, not letting go of Jungkook. “Junghyun’s just mad that he got dumped last night. I’m surprised you managed to sleep through him stumbling in at like three in the morning, drunk off his ass.” “Jimin-hyung… Am I… am I gross, hyung?” Jungkook whimpered. It wasn’t the kind of question he would ever allow himself to ask Jimin under ordinary circumstances. Junghyun had always been vocal about how he didn’t like how close they were, but Jungkook and Jimin had, for the most part, never let that get between them. He and Jimin had always been the way they were, since the earliest of Jungkook’s memories, and he had never let anyone tell him that they should behave otherwise. But last night had stripped him raw, and Namjoon’s words echoed in his head. You know, you two don’t act like normal brothers. And he was right, wasn’t he, a normal teenage boy wouldn’t be all wrapped up in his older brother like this— “Oh, baby, no,” Jimin said, petting him. “Of course not, Kookie. You’re the best, most beautiful boy. I still remember seeing you for the first time, you know? You were so tiny and cute. I thought to myself, ‘it’s a little angel’.” Jungkook knew this: Jimin had told him numerous times that the moment his mother had told him, “This is your new brother, Jungkook”, Jimin had fallen in love on the spot . “And every day, you become lovelier and lovelier. You’re still my sweet angel.” Jimin kissed his forehead. “You could never be gross, baby. You’re perfect.” Jungkook closed his eyes. He had never felt further from perfect. If Jimin knew… The thought of Namjoon, smiling mockingly at him. Would you like him to? He could never know. He would never, ever let Jimin know. Jungkook swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall and promised himself as he wrapped himself more tightly in Jimin’s arms. *** The knock on the door made Jungkook flinch. Steeling himself, he went over and opened it, to find Namjoon smiling down at him. “Morning, baby,” Namjoon said. He looked Jungkook up and down, already showered and dressed in pants and one of his innumerable white shirts. “Good enough—not like you’re going to be keeping that on for long, anyway. Jimin already left?” “Y-yeah,” he whispered, lowering his eyes. He’d rushed his brother out the door, terrified that Namjoon would show up while Jimin was still there and he would be forced to explain his presence. “Too bad,” Namjoon hummed. “I think he’d enjoy the next part.” Cold rage stole over Jungkook. “Don’t you fucking touch him,” he snarled. “Oh? Are you sure you want to talk to me that way?” Namjoon loomed over Jungkook with a smirk. “I think you’re forgetting yourself.” Jungkook swallowed hard and looked away. “Yes, it looks like you remember now. I’ll let it slide, if only because you’re so cute getting all protective over your big brother. Still, I can’t let you pick up bad habits, can I? I think you had better apologize to me.” “I…” Jungkook clenched his hands into fists, hating himself. “I’m sorry.” “Close, but not quite there. It’s missing something.” Namjoon smiled as Jungkook stared at him, confused. “Come on, before I lose my patience and change my mind about letting you off so easily.” Realization slowly dawned and he had to force himself to spit out the words. “I, I—I’m sorry, daddy.” “You didn’t sound like you meant it, too bad,” Namjoon said. “Guess someone will be getting a nice video message from me—“ “No!” Jungkook burst out, grabbing his arm. “Daddy, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t, daddy, no! I’ll, I’ll be good, please!” “Aw, Kookie,” Namjoon said. Jungkook said nothing as Namjoon tilted his head up to face him. “Now how could I say no when my pretty boy is pleading so prettily with me? Do you promise you’ll be good, sweetheart?” “Yes, daddy,” he whispered. “Much better,” Namjoon praised him. “You know, it’s funny that you’re so worried about Jimin, when really you should be wondering what I’m going to do to you. Grab a jacket, baby, we’re going for a ride.” “Wh-where are we going?” he asked, heart hammering in his chest. His body was already moving to obey, taking down his coat, shoving his feet into his Timberlands. Namjoon’s smile grew. “I wanted to introduce you to a couple of friends of mine.” *** Jungkook wasn’t sure what he was expecting Namjoon’s ‘friends’ to be like as Namjoon pulled up to an apartment complex not too far off from Jimin’s school. But he was pretty certain that ‘looks like a couple of teen idols’ and ‘so pretty they can’t be real’ were nowhere on the list of possibilities that had entered his head. Then again, Namjoon was good-looking himself, so perhaps he should have expected it. “Jin,” Namjoon said, pressing a lingering kiss on the lips of the one who’d opened the door for them. He nodded at the other one, who was lounging on the bed with a curious look on his face. “Tae.” He pushed Jungkook a little forward into a spacious, open-plan apartment. “Come meet Kookie.” Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Oh, no shit? You’re Kookie?” He flashed Jungkook a boxy grin. “Man, I’ve heard so much about you! I’m Taehyung, I’ve been dying to meet you forever—” Jungkook squeaked and took a step back, flinching. “Joon.” Jin leveled a frown at Namjoon, arms crossed over his chest. “Yes, yes, don’t worry, he’s okay with it,” Namjoon said, waving a hand dismissively. “Honestly, Jin, do you think I wouldn’t have cleared this with him first? It was his idea.” “Fair enough,” Jin said with a sigh, while Jungkook swallowed back the protest that had risen to his lips. No, Namjoon had most definitely not cleared anything with him. “But we’re all going to talk about this later. Call the others and set it up. I’m guessing you brought him here because…?” “Yeah, I was hoping you and Taehyung could give him a hand. Make him pretty. Well,” he amended, leering at Jungkook, “prettier, anyway.” A handsome smile spread on Jin’s face. “I have to admit, it’s a little… exciting,” he said, inspecting Jungkook. “I haven’t had anyone this lovely to work with since Tae. Look at you.” Jungkook bit his lip, and Jin looked even more delighted. “Like a little bunny.” “I’m—I’m not,” he stammered. “Cute voice, too,” Taehyung supplied, getting down gracefully to his knees to start unlacing Jungkook’s shoes. “Okay, let’s get started! Joonie-hyung, you want to watch?” Namjoon grinned as Taehyung took advantage of his position to nuzzle into Jungkook’s crotch, earning a gasp from Jungkook. “Of course. You know how much I appreciate your work.” Jin made quick work of peeling Jungkook out of his shirt, though Jungkook tried to cover himself. “Don’t hide, sugarplum. You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about,” Taehyung cooed. “Pink,” Jin murmured, teasing a nipple. Jungkook moaned, thrashing. “Responsive, too. He’d take clamps nicely.” He bit down hard on the nub, making Jungkook shriek, before he soothed the pain with his tongue. “You don’t have much hair on you, Kookie. Do you shave?” “W-wax,” Jungkook admitted, face heating. It was just a thing of his, preferring to be hairless. He knew that Jimin did it too, and somehow he’d just ended up following his brother’s hygiene routine, and by now, anything else felt weird. Jin smiled approvingly. “That makes it easier for us, then. Actually—Tae, check his legs for me, would you?” Taehyung obeyed, unbuttoning Jungkook’s pants and dragging them down slowly to reveal golden, muscular thighs and smooth calves. “Oh, very nice. You really do wax all over.” “Not quite all over,” Namjoon interjected, eyes fixed on the show. He was already half-hard, just watching them play with Jungkook like a toy. “Oh,” Taehyung said, teeth gleaming in a grin. His hand darted out to run a long finger down Jungkook’s cock, which was straining in his boxers. Jungkook let out a strangled yell, bucking into the touch. “So, here?” “Yeah,” Namjoon said. “Let’s get that cleaned up.” “How do you want to do this? Shave, depilatory?” Jin asked Namjoon, talking as if Jungkook wasn’t right there. “We could wax him, but that might take some recovery time depending on how much growth he has, and if he’s never waxed there before… I mean, I have some barrier cream so sex isn’t completely out of the question if we wait a little after the waxing…” “Oh, it’s fine, stop overthinking it,” Namjoon said lazily. “There isn’t much. Besides, he’s kind of a pain slut.” Taehyung smirked. “Just Hobi-hyung’s type, then.” Another name. Jungkook started to panic, struggling under Jin and Taehyung’s hands. How many of these ‘friends’ did Namjoon have? How many was he planning to ‘introduce’ Jungkook to? "Damn it. Grab him," Namjoon snapped as Jungkook tried to twist away. Jin and Taehyung immediately crowded Jungkook, pressing up against him. “Shh, shh, little bunny,” Jin crooned, keeping him steady with strong hands. He looked delicate, but his broad shoulders spoke of an underlying strength. Jungkook suddenly became hyper-aware that if Jin absolutely wanted to, he could pin him down and keep him there. “Tae, we have a skittish one here. Maybe slow down a bit with the introductions, the two of us at once was already pushing it. Poor bunny, poor little baby.” “Sorry, Kookie,” Taehyung said, getting up and pressing a wet kiss to his cheek. He smiled tenderly, but one broad hand went around Jungkook's neck and squeezed once in warning. Jungkook went absolutely still. “There you go. Calm down, kitty cat, Jin-hyung and I have you, we have you, you’re safe…” Jungkook whimpered as Taehyung smiled sweetly at him and let go. "You'll be calm now, right?" Namjoon stepped closer to Jungkook, who was taking shallow breaths. “Baby, look at me,” he said, tilting Jungkook’s chin up, swearing quietly at the sight of his pupils, dilated with animal terror. Jungkook started shaking, once again trying to get out from under Jin's grip. “Look at daddy. Breathe, baby, come on. Daddy’s right here for you, okay?” "Stop struggling," Taehyung said, still showing him that boxy grin. "You know you're only going to wear yourself out eventually, pumpkin. But I guess this is kind of fun, too. You're like a little mouse in a trap." "Tae, sweetheart, what happened to going slow?" Jin said, exasperated. "Sorry, Jinnie-hyung," Taehyung said, pouting. He kissed Jungkook on the nose with a fond laugh. "I can't help it. He makes me want to play with him so badly. You're so perfect, Kookie. So cute. Why not give in already?" Despite himself, Jungkook could feel himself beginning to tire, movements slowing as he sank his weight against Jin, crashing down from the initial burst of adrenaline that had fueled his efforts. “There, honey, very good,” Jin said, petting him and mouthing at his neck. Namjoon pressed little kisses on his lips, murmuring what a good boy he was. Taehyung giggled, rubbing a broad palm up and down his flank, occasionally trailing his fingers over Jungkook’s clothed length. So many hands, he didn’t know how to feel, overwhelmed by the touches and the voices, all of them whispering praise and reassurances so gently in his ear. “My sweet boy,” Namjoon cooed. “Darling, beautiful baby boy.” Jin felt the shift as Jungkook’s head lolled onto his shoulder. “How are you feeling, bunny?” Jungkook tried to form words. It was too much, all three of them on him and around him, but at the same time somehow not enough. “F… floating,” he managed to gasp out, bucking up into Taehyung’s grip on his member. “T-too much.” Jin cupped his face in his broad palms and kissed him. “Okay, sweetie, that’s okay, that’s good.” Jin shot a glance at Namjoon as Jungkook moaned quietly under his hand. “He’s…” “The subbiest sub to ever sub?” Taehyung suggested, grinding the heel of his hand harder on Jungkook’s dick. Jungkook moaned helplessly, pushing into the touch. Jin made a face. “Not quite how I would have put it, but. Joon, are you sure he can handle this?” Namjoon nodded. “Believe me, it surprised the hell out of me the first time too. Baby, are you okay? Talk to daddy.” “Daddy,” Jungkook echoed. He felt so slow, muddled. His cock was heavy between his legs, pulsing painfully. Namjoon bent to kiss him and Jungkook found himself kissing back sloppily, keening. “Fuck, that’s hot,” Taehyung breathed, palming at his own cock. “He’s fine,” Namjoon said, stepping back. Jungkook whimpered, trying to chase after his warmth. “I’m here, precious, don’t worry.” He nodded at Jin. “Go ahead.” The next hour was a blur of sweet-smelling suds and the soft murmur of their voices, Jin and Taehyung’s hands washing him carefully. He squirmed as a finger probed gently at his ass before slipping into his hole, the water getting into his opening. “N-no, d-daddy, p-please,” he protested weakly, while Jin kissed his ear. Namjoon cupped his face in his hands, shushing him. “Shh, sweetheart. Just let it happen. It’ll make you feel so nice, baby, don’t you want that?” “F-feels so w-weird,” he panted. “Let us clean you up, bunny,” Jin said, fingering him, drinking in the sound of his moans. Jungkook whimpered, sinking back into the intrusion and clenching down. Jin smiled before removing his finger, getting Taehyung to help him pull Jungkook out of the bath and swaddle him in soft towels, leading him back out to their bedroom. “Good boy,” Namjoon said, while Jungkook shivered at the words. “Lie down for us, baby.” He went without protest. Taehyung and Jin spoke over his head as they rubbed him with all sorts of oils and lotions, their words a soothing, indecipherable hum above him as he tried to gather his thoughts. Namjoon's hand laced in his was the only thing grounding him; he felt so far out of his skin, like he'd left his body behind for them to do as they pleased with. Jungkook obediently parted his legs when Jin tugged them open. “There’s a good bunny,” Jin cooed, as he rubbed talcum powder on the sparse hairs he had growing above his cock and up his crack. “Tae, hand me the wax. Try to relax, Kookie. This is going to hurt a little.” Jungkook unstuck his tongue enough to whisper, “P-please don’t.” “Oh, honey,” Jin said sympathetically. “I’ll make it quick.” Jungkook bit down hard on his lip to avoid crying out loud as Jin efficiently ripped the hair off him. The pain was a shock to his system, cutting through the fog blanketing his mind. “Sorry, sorry,” Jin murmured, rubbing comfortingly at his thigh. “Just think, bunny, you’ll be so pretty after this. Just bear with it first.” Jungkook whimpered as another swathe was torn away and he panted quietly, breaking the skin of his lower lip and tasting blood. Namjoon reached out and laced his fingers with Jungkook’s. “You’re doing so well, baby. I’m so proud of you. My lovely, obedient boy, so brave, so wonderful.” Jungkook clung onto the hand desperately, moaning at the words. Jin clucked his tongue in annoyance. “Tae, steady his penis for me, will you? He’s still leaking everywhere, it’s going to get on the wax.” Jungkook hazily realized that he was still hard and dripping precome, leaking even harder whenever Namjoon murmured more praise in his ear. Taehyung giggled. “God, you really are a little pain slut. I thought Namjoon- hyung was exaggerating.” “All done,” Jin said, cleaning up the spot and rubbing soothing gel and more powder onto his skin. Jungkook let out a soft wail at the touch, now hypersensitive without the hair normally there to mute the sensation. “Hmm? Does that feel good, bunny?” Jin continued trailing the pads of his fingers on the red, heated flesh, while Jungkook hissed, unsure whether what he was feeling was pleasure or pain. Jin smirked, leaning down to press a teasing kiss on his cock. He couldn’t help rocking up to meet Jin’s mouth, gasping for breath. Tae made a noise of disapproval as he noticed Jungkook’s bleeding lip. “You hurt yourself,” he scolded, tongue darting out to lick at Jungkook’s mouth. “Don’t do that, Kookie. Next time, scream if you have to.” He smiled slyly before dragging Jungkook in to kiss him deeper and pinch at his nipples, swallowing Jungkook’s cries and thrusting his tongue deep into his mouth. “They prefer it when we do.” Namjoon chuckled as he watched them, palming the front of his trousers while they toyed with Jungkook’s body. “It’s so easy to get you all riled up. So sensitive. But daddy doesn’t want you to come yet.” Jin pulled off with a pout. “Fine,” he said. “Tae, come on, wardrobe next.” Taehyung’s eyes lit up excitedly as he bounded over to a rack of clothes half- hidden behind a curtain, pulling them out for Namjoon’s inspection. “He’s not that far off in size from Tae, or some of my own things from a few years back, so there’s plenty that’ll work here. What direction were you thinking?” Jin asked. He picked out a pair of tiny leather shorts. “Sexy?” He pursed his lips in a frown. “Hmm. No, that’ll be for a later stage, he's not ready for it. For now, probably something soft and sweet? We could feminize him. Yes… I think that would work, he’d take to it beautifully.” He held up a schoolgirl uniform for Namjoon. “Classic?” Taehyung giggled. “I like that one,” he murmured in Jungkook’s ear. “I bet you will too.” “I was thinking of introducing him to Suga this weekend,” Namjoon said. “He’s been alone too long.” “If it’s Suga, he’ll want dainty and simple. Pure as possible, you know what he’s like.” Jin rifled through the hangers before pulling out a lace dress with ribbons for sleeves and a girlish hemline that would come down to Jungkook’s knees. He glanced at Jungkook, spread out and panting under Taehyung. “God, Suga’s going to love him.” “I know,” Namjoon agreed. “You know what he’ll want for stockings and underwear?” “Please, don’t insult me,” Jin said, rolling his eyes. “Not the first time I’ve done this, Joon.” “Okay, Jin,” Namjoon said with a grin and a placating hand. “You’re the expert. Toss in a couple more outfits, whatever you think might look cute on Kookie. And as for his going home clothes…” Jin batted him away, reaching for Jungkook. “Leave it to me. I’ll make our little bunny look so, so good.” He smirked. “And then, I want to have a little taste of him myself. With your permission, Joonie?” Namjoon grinned. “Of course. What’s mine is yours.” He kissed Jin, tongues tangling harshly as they groaned into each other’s mouths. “We’re going to have so much fun.” Chapter End Notes This chapter is a *little* bit calmer than the first two, mostly setting the stage for the next parts. Sorry as I've been very busy/ stressed recently and didn't have much time to work on this, but I hope you guys enjoyed it anyway. (Please marry me Kim Namjoon~) ***** Chapter 4 ***** Chapter Summary The aftermath of meeting Jin and Taehyung. Chapter Notes Hi everyone! Sorry to interrupt your reading with a (relatively) long author's note, which I usually hate to do, but I want to address a couple of things. I got a comment about inappropriate tagging, which has since been addressed and which I was very grateful to get. Please, please, if you guys find anything problematic with the tags or have any further suggestions, I would very much welcome hearing about them. As someone who's only begun to dip their toes into the smut writing pool, I'm pretty lost and this is a bit of a learning process for me. I am just a smol beginner bean, so... please be patient with me as I learn! For the comment I got calling me out on writing non-con: this fic is what it is. I have written, and will write, consensual smut, but this fic is not it. I'm not going to stop writing based on disapproval of a particular topic. It would be one thing if I were at all pretending that the dynamics in this story are anything resembling healthy or acceptable, but I'm not. THIS STUFF IS NOT OKAY IN REAL LIFE. The acts portrayed in this fic are crimes. But you know what? This is also FICTION. It is the stuff of fantasy, and, well. People have messed-up fantasies, okay? It doesn't mean we want it to happen in reality. I already put up a huge warning in the first chapter, so this is going to be the last time I'll say this: MIND THE TAGS. If you have any doubts about being triggered by this fic, please exercise self- care and stop reading immediately. Proceeding beyond this point if you know you disapprove of non-con fics will make you the person you see in every horror movie who thinks that exploring the obviously haunted house is a good idea, or decides that splitting the group up while a serial killer is on the loose sounds like a great plan. You know, the one the audience always screams "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!" at. Please don't be that person. If you were genuinely curious and got caught up in this before getting triggered, though, that's another thing entirely and I am so sorry and send you lots of hugs. I just don't want to hurt anyone with this fic, but I want to keep writing it, so... I'm honestly a little troubled. I hope that people will take the warnings to heart and be careful. All readers, and all of BTS's fans, are precious. For the lovely, lovely readers who sent me such wonderful comments in the last chapter, I love you so much and I'm sorry for always rambling endlessly in my replies! But you make my heart just burst with happiness every time I read your sweet words. This chapter is a little bit longer as a thank you, I hope you like it! See the end of the chapter for more notes “Watch,” Jin ordered Jungkook, seating him in front of a floor-length mirror, still hard and aching, nothing but a towel draped around him. “Pay attention, bunny, you’re going to have to learn to do this yourself, too.” He squirted foundation onto a sponge and started applying it to Jungkook’s face, covering up the tiny acne outbreaks that he sometimes got, hiding the scar on his cheek. “We don’t need too much, though, your skin is fairly good considering you’re a teenager. I’ll send some supplies home with you.” A pencil came dangerously close to his eyes, and he flinched, whimpering. “Don’t be scared, cutie pie, it’s just eyeliner,” Taehyung reassured him. “It’ll make your eyes pop even more than they already do. Big doe eyes to go with your bunny teeth. Fucking irresistible. You can close your eyes while I put it on, but listen while I tell you how to do it, okay?” Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut. “No, relax,” Taehyung murmured in his ear, breath fanning hot against the sensitive shell. Jungkook shivered at the feeling as he felt pressure on his lashes. “Quick, light strokes. Keep them nice and even, not too heavy-handed. Okay, we’re done. Not so bad, right? You can open your eyes now, angel. Good boy.” Jungkook slowly opened his eyes and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The eyeliner did make his eyes look bigger and brighter, more dramatic. His cheeks flushed. He looked…. “Pretty, right?” Taehyung said, sharing a boxy grin with him. “I think we can skip the blush, Jinnie-hyung.” “Yes, it would be a shame to hide how easily he blushes on his own. It’s very seductive. Just a little tinted gloss next, then,” Jin said, rubbing sticky pink liquid on Jungkook’s lips, staining them strawberry-red. “This kind’s meant to last for the whole day, so you don’t have to worry about it coming off. All the makeup we put on you is long-wearing, stage makeup. Expensive, but worth it.” Jin eyed him critically before grabbing a powder puff and fixing everything in place. “I think that’s enough. We don’t want to overdo it. The innocent, virginal look suits him.” “Let me see, baby,” Namjoon rumbled. Jin and Taehyung had insisted that he wait behind the curtain where they kept the clothes for the final reveal. “He isn’t even dressed yet!” Jin yelled back. He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Impatient. Not that I blame him in the least.” He rubbed Jungkook’s nipples, earning a high-pitched yelp. “I’d tell you to punish him by teasing him, bunny, but you’re already a tease without even knowing it.” Jungkook raised teary, baffled eyes up at him and Jin sighed. “Yes, exactly my point. Come on, up, let’s not keep your daddy waiting any longer.” Jin tugged an oversized, pale pink sweater on him with sleeves that fell over his wrists and was long enough to come mid-thigh, the neck exposing his sharp collarbones and threatening to slip down to his shoulders. “It’s a pity we can’t dress you up more, but Namjoon said you had to go home in these,” Jin complained. “So something with a little plausible deniability—we can get away with the sweater as casual wear, you’re cute enough to pull it off. And something that can be covered up.” Taehyung rolled white, lacy stockings up Jungkook’s legs and secured them to a garter belt. Jungkook’s mouth went dry, staring at his thighs in the mirror, encased in the silky fabric. His cock jumped at the sight without his meaning to. Taehyung laughed. “Looks like someone likes it,” he cooed, stroking Jungkook’s length with a too-loose grip. Jungkook whimpered, hips seeking more friction. “Adorable,” Jin hummed. He grabbed a strawberry clip and put it in Jungkook’s hair, pinning his bangs to the side. “We can always take it out before he leaves. It’d be a shame not to put it in. It suits him so well.” “Strawberry Kookie,” Taehyung agreed, kissing Jungkook’s neck. “So ripe for it.” He smirked as Jungkook’s cheeks flushed harder. “So lovely and pink all over. I wonder if you’ll taste as sweet as you look.” Jungkook tried to look away from his reflection but found himself unable to. He was—so pretty. He swallowed hard. Taehyung hummed in approval. “Should we put him in panties now, hyung?” “Maybe later. He’d only ruin them,” Jin said. “Not that I mind buying more, but. Waste not, want not.” “Precious little gumdrop,” Taehyung cooed, petting Jungkook’s cock. “God, I want to eat you up, honey bear.” “You have the weirdest pet names, Tae,” Jin said, laughing. “Joon, come have a look at your baby boy, see if he meets your standards.” Namjoon pulled away the curtain and stepped over to them. Jungkook heard his sharp intake of breath and raised his eyes to meet Namjoon’s gaze in the mirror, predatory. Taehyung stepped back and let Namjoon take over. “You’ve outdone yourself, Jin,” Namjoon breathed, reaching under Jungkook’s sweater to find his aching cock. Jungkook cried out as his broad palm wrapped around it, stroking him with torturous slowness. “I have,” Jin said with a toss of his head. “I always do. Reward me, Joonie.” Namjoon snorted out a laugh. “Spoiled princess. Fine, have at it.” He maneuvered Jungkook so that he was leaning on the mirror, arms braced against the polished surface to hold him up. “Go ahead, Jin.” “And Taetae too. He helped.” Namjoon nodded in agreement. “What’s the limit?” Jin asked, stepping behind Jungkook. “Tae, lube, please.” Taehyung handed him a bottle, which he uncapped and drizzled on his fingers. “Don’t fuck him.” Namjoon bent down to kiss Jungkook. Jungkook whimpered into Namjoon’s mouth as Jin’s finger slid into his hole, probing, teasing. “Be good for Jinnie-hyung, baby. He’s nicer than daddy, anyway, so just enjoy it.” He grinned, grabbing the chair they’d previously had Jungkook on for his makeup. He settled himself on it, making sure he had an excellent view of the other three boys. “I for one plan on enjoying the show very thoroughly.” “Okay, good, because I’ve been dying to do this since I laid eyes on your little bunny,” Jin said, getting to his knees behind Jungkook and parting his cheeks. “Gorgeous.” He licked a broad stripe across his hole. Jungkook’s eyes widened and he let out a cry, sweaty palms sliding down the surface of the mirror. Jin pulled away with a delighted smirk. “Joonie. He’s never had anyone eat him out before?” “Nope,” Namjoon said. “He’s pretty much as untouched as they come.” “Oh, petal. We’re going to have so much fun,” Jin crooned, kissing his opening. Jungkook wailed, pushing back onto his tongue. He’d thought that fingers were intense, but this slick heat was something else entirely, probing into the darkest, most tender parts of him. He couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t stop moaning. Taehyung slipped beside Jungkook, biting his neck. “Look at yourself,” he said. Jungkook opened his eyes, unaware that he’d even had them closed, and saw his reflection staring back at him, looking completely fucked-out, drooling and crying. His lips were bitten, still glossy with makeup and so kissable. Jin slipped one of his fingers in to join his tongue, making Jungkook wail. “Gorgeous. You can’t hide how much you want it, sugarplum.” “N-no, no,” Jungkook whimpered, as Jin added another finger to join the one already probing at him, scissoring them gently while his tongue flicked in between them. “I don’t, I’m not.” Suddenly his fingers crooked upwards, and Jungkook screamed as he shook with a lightning-bolt of pleasure. “Found his prostate,” Jin said, grinning, pressing in harder, over and over again until Jungkook was a writhing, panting mess. “It’s okay to admit it, petal. You’re a needy little slut.” Jungkook shook his head frantically in denial. “Tae, go ahead and give him another good look at himself.” Jungkook whimpered as Taehyung forced his chin up again from where it had dropped to his chest. His eyes were glazed over with lust, hair falling into his eyes. With the clip in his hair and the pretty pink sweater bunched up his hips, stocking legs spread wide for the man behind him, he looked deviant. He looked like the dirtiest, worst kind of pornography. He looked exactly like the slut Jin told him he was. Jin smirked as Jungkook sobbed, fat tears slipping down his cheeks. “You shouldn’t cry, you know. That just turns Joonie on more.” “He’s getting precum on his pretty sweater,” Taehyung said. “That’s not very nice, cutie. Here,” He lifted the hem of it and brought it to Jungkook’s mouth. “Bite down, sweet pea, keep it out of the way while we play with you.” Jungkook tried to protest, but the fuzzy material was already stuffed between his teeth. He could feel the fabric getting wet from his saliva, soaking through. “That’s fucking perfect, Tae,” Namjoon groaned, watching them, his hand down his pants. “And now I have easy access to your cock,” Taehyung said brightly, getting down to his knees in front of Jungkook. “I’ve got you, baby.” He opened his mouth and swallowed him all the way down, igniting more sensation against his bare skin. Jungkook’s screams were muffled by the cloth as he slipped a little more down the mirror. It was only Jin and Taehyung’s hands holding him up that kept him from falling to his knees, the sensations too much for him to handle. He looked down to lock eyes with Taehyung, who winked at him as he sucked hard. Jungkook’s mouth fell open, the sweater’s edge falling out of his mouth as Jin and Taehyung continued to lick and suck at him from both sides, front and back, driving him completely out of his mind. Taehyung’s hot mouth engulfing his cock, Jin’s devious tongue probing deep inside him. “Can’t,” he wailed, throwing his head back. “I’m, I c-can’t, I’m g-going to come—“ He was so, so close. He looked desperately at Namjoon, who stood and went to his side, studying him. He gently raised Jungkook’s chin so that he was looking up into Namjoon’s eyes. “What if I told you not to, sweetheart?” Namjoon asked. Jungkook gasped, tears pouring down his face. “Daddy!” he wailed. Jin and Taehyung didn’t even pause, winding him up even tighter.“Please…” “Could you be a good boy if I asked you not to?” “P-p-please… no, n-no…” “Could you?” Namjoon persisted, unrelenting. He kissed Jungkook’s ear, his neck, making him moan loudly. “Could you control your needy little cock for me, baby? Could you be a good boy for your daddy?” He shook his head frantically. “I, I can’t,” he choked out. He saw the disappointment all over Namjoon’s face and felt a stab of pain go through him as Namjoon stepped away from him, withdrawing the warm hands that had been cradling his face. “W-wait! I, I’ll try, I’m sorry, oh god p-please, daddy…” Namjoon turned back to him and kissed the tear tracks on his cheeks. “That’s all I want, darling boy. Just try,” Namjoon murmured, pausing a moment to pat Taehyung’s head. Taehyung moaned happily and sucked harder on Jungkook, causing him to shake. “You’ll try for daddy?” He dug his nails into his palms so hard that he drew blood, trying to stop himself from giving in to the pleasure racing through him. “Y-yes, I’ll try, I’ll be a g-good boy, I’ll be g-good… b-but—“ “But what, sweetheart?” He whimpered. “P-please daddy, let me come,” he begged. “L-let your baby come, daddy, please…” Namjoon smiled. “Should I?” “Daddy!” Jungkook sobbed. “You’re so, y-you’re so mean…” He started bawling. He was barely holding on, but somehow Namjoon’s soft words were stopping him from giving in to the sensations. He couldn’t come. Namjoon’s voice was like a vice grip around his cock, denying him release. “Oh, precious. Shh, shh, calm down. You’re so cute. Daddy’s sorry for teasing you. It’s okay now,” Namjoon said, petting his hair. “Go ahead and come, baby boy.” The permission was all he needed. Jungkook screamed as he came hard, shooting into Taehyung’s eager mouth right as Jin pressed down hard onto his prostate. “Good boy, Kookie,” Namjoon whispered in his ear. The rest of it, Jungkook couldn’t remember. It was a mess of pleasure, too much all at once, and finally, blessed darkness. *** He regained consciousness in Namjoon’s car, head cradled in Taehyung’s lap. Namjoon was on the phone as he drove. “—he’s fine, we’re almost there. Yeah, don’t worry. See you in five.” Jin was in the front seat, turning back to smile at him. “Welcome back. Had a good nap, bunny?” Jin asked. “Slowly, now. Here, have some juice. You need to rehydrate and get your blood sugar back up.” He passed a juice box back to Taehyung, who refused to let him up until he drank down at least half. Jungkook winced, sitting up before flinching. He was still in the fuzzy pink sweater. The stockings were hidden under his loose jeans and Timberlands, at least, but he could feel something soft and tight against his cock and balls, not like his usual cotton boxers at all. It hit him that he was probably wearing some kind of panties and he had no idea what they looked like, but the other three in the car knew. They knew what material was cradling his most private parts, what color they’d chosen to put him in. One of them had slipped panties up his legs and tucked his cock and balls into the delicate material, he realized. One of them, or all of them. They’d dressed him like a doll while he was unconscious. They could have done god knew what else, the whole time. He sat there numbly, humiliation and fear eating at him as Namjoon and Jin chatted quietly, laughing together. Taehyung petted his head. “Nice timing, cupcake. We’re almost there.” He looked out the window with a shock and realized they were pulling up to Jimin’s school. “What—why?” he asked, as Namjoon parked his car and got down. Jungkook hastily threw open the backseat door and ran to Namjoon’s side. “What are we doing here? No, you, you promised you wouldn’t—” He felt sick as he realized that Namjoon hadn’t promised him anything at all. Namjoon raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I like your tone, Kookie.” He bit his lip and lowered his voice, praying that no one would hear him. “I’m s-sorry, daddy, but p-please, don’t, don’t show him the video, I, what do I need to do—“ Namjoon chuckled. “Calm down, baby. I called Jimin, told him that I figured it would be better if I gave you a ride to pick him up instead of you dragging yourself to the station. Of course I told him his precious Kookie wouldn’t even hear of not coming to get him today. Even though he should be resting in bed, the poor dear.” “Aw,” Taehyung said as he and Jin got down too, pinching Jungkook’s cheek. Taehyung cooed over Jungkook in the kind of tone most people reserved for pictures of puppies. “I just can’t with how adorable you are, seriously.” “Kookie!” Jimin came bounding up to them, with his smile that could light up an entire continent, eyes crinkling up into crescents. “Kookie, are you okay? You shouldn’t have come to pick me up, I was going to skip dance practice and head home to be with you—“ He drew up short just as he was about to hug Jungkook. “Kookie,” he said slowly. “You, you look…” Jungkook looked at him in confusion. Then he realized how he must look; the panic of seeing Jimin had made him forget. His cheeks heated and he tugged self-consciously at the sweaterpaws falling over his wrists, horror bubbling in the pit of his stomach as he remembered the makeup on his face. “Um, I…” His voice cracked in his anxiety. “I—“ “Sorry, I got my hands on him,” Jin chirped. “I couldn’t resist, Jimin-ah. Come on, you can’t blame me for taking a professional interest, look at him.” Jungkook flushed. “I, I look stupid, I’m sorry, hyung,” he blabbered, wondering how the hell he was going to explain to his brother. And what on earth did Jin mean by ‘professional interest’? “Hey!” Jin protested, insulted. “I worked hard on that.” Looking almost entranced, Jimin touched the strawberry clip still pinned in Jungkook’s hair. Jungkook’s cheeks flared up even more—he hadn’t realized that Jin hadn’t taken it out. He practically ripped it off his head, wincing as he pulled out a few strands in his hurry. “Hyung,” he tried, before words failed him. He could already feel tears welling up in his eyes. Jimin took the clip out of his shaking fingers and gently placed it back in his hair, smoothing down his ruffled bangs. You don’t look stupid,” Jimin said, finally reaching up to hug Jungkook. “Actually, you’re too cute, Kookie. I didn’t know what to think for a second there, my mind just blanked out at how good it looks on you.” Jungkook blushed again, and Namjoon leered at him over Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin kept staring at Jungkook. “You should thank Jin-hyung, you know. He’s one of the top students in Seoul U’s drama department, and he’s one of the best at styling, too. Plenty of people would die to have him do their makeup. Did you thank him properly?” Jungkook flushed further. “I—I…” “Kookie! We raised you better than that.” Jimin frowned at him and Jungkook immediately dropped his gaze, feeling small and awful. Nothing hurt him more than Jimin’s disapproval, even though his brother had no idea what he was asking Jungkook to do. Jimin sighed. “I’m so disappointed in you.” “No, no, I’m s-sorry,” he blurted out. He bit his lip, humiliation washing over him. The other three were smirking, obviously anticipating what was coming next. But he could never say no to Jimin. He wrenched the words out, trying to keep his voice as even as possible despite the bile rising in his throat. “I—J- Jin-hyung, th-thank you for today.” Jin snickered. “Oh, it was definitely my pleasure, Jungkook-ah.” Jimin beamed at Jungkook. “Good boy.” Jungkook whimpered at the praise, soaking it up, tuning out Taehyung’s giggles and Namjoon’s snort. “It’s so pretty on you.” Jimin brought up a small hand to Jungkook’s mouth, rubbing at the glossy sheen. Jungkook, without even thinking, parted his lips slightly, eyes falling half-closed as his tongue just barely brushed against the pads of Jimin’s fingers. “Kookie,” Jimin breathed, watching him as Jungkook let out a tiny whine. Jin laughed, interrupting the moment. “Much as I hate to break this up, Jimin- ah, I’m feeling distinctly unloved over here. No ‘hi hyung, it was so kind of you to come pick me up, hyung’? Where’s my hug?” Jimin shot him a sheepish grin but didn’t move to release Jungkook. “Sorry, Jin-hyung. Hi! And I need to send you a fruit basket or something, because… wow. Kookie.” He looked at Jungkook, spellbound, before he wrenched his eyes away to look at the others. “Namjoon-hyung, thanks for giving us a ride. And Taetae, too. You cut class again,” he scolded Taehyung. “It’s boring,” Taehyung complained. “As long as I attend the minimum number of days and keep scoring well on the tests, I’ll be fine.” “Wait,” Jungkook said, his head starting to hurt. “How do you all know each other?” Jimin tilted his head at him in askance. “They didn’t say? Taetae and I are classmates—though that’s being generous, since he’s out cutting more often than he attends class. Namjoon-hyung is in the same department as Yoongi-hyung at Seoul U,” he said, referring to his perpetually grumpy, older best friend who had used to live next door to them before he’d moved out into his own apartment for university. “And Seokjin-hyung is Namjoon’s boyfriend.” Jimin sighed. “This kid. You just got into a car with a bunch of strangers, without even knowing how I know them? You need to be more careful, Kookie! You’re lucky nothing worse happened.” Taehyung burst out into peals of laughter as Jungkook nodded dumbly, unable to speak another word. *** “Bye, hyungs! Kim Taehyung, you’d better come to class tomorrow,” Jimin threatened as he and Jungkook got down from Namjoon’s car. “Thanks for driving us home!” “Any time, Jimin,” Namjoon said. “Look after Jungkook tonight, will you? He’s had a very long day.” “Oh, Jungkook-ah, wait,” Jin called after him just as he and Jimin were unlocking their front door. “Come here.” Jungkook froze and slowly went over to Jin’s side. “Thank you for today, little bunny,” Jin said softly, voice low enough that Jimin couldn’t hear them. “You’ll come back next week, won’t you? I want to see what I could do with you if I had a little more time. And Tae’s already asked your daddy if he could get you alone sometime. He’s taken quite a liking to you.” He smirked, running a proprietary hand down Jungkook’s cheek. Jungkook flinched back at touch. Jin tutted in disapproval. “Don’t do that, Kookie dear. Did you forget that your beloved brother is watching? Smile.” Jungkook swallowed hard and forced a grin on his face, trying to get his trembling under control, hyper-aware of Jimin’s eyes on them. “Ah, never mind. Your face is too honest,” Jin said, laughing quietly. “You wear your feelings for the world to see, bunny. It’s one of the things we like the most about you.” He held out a heavy bag. “You forgot this,” he said, raising his voice to a normal volume. He flashed Jimin a smile as Jungkook took it, staggering under its heft. “More of my professional interest, you could say. His body was just made for being dressed up. It’s like having my own personal Ken doll. Lend him to me again sometime, this was fun.” He winked and blew a kiss at Jungkook before they drove off. “Wow, Jin-hyung must really like you,” Jimin said, looking at the huge duffel in Jungkook’s arms. Jungkook’s ears burned. “I guess,” he croaked, ducking his head, trying not to clench at the phantom memory of a hot tongue slipping into his opening. He felt wrung out and exhausted. “I don’t really know him.” “I’m sure you’ll warm up to him soon.” Jimin smiled sweetly at him, pecking his cheek. “I’ll make us dinner.” With their parents always gone, the two of them had learned to cook out of desperation, after too many nights of take-out and sandwiches. “You go upstairs and put all that away, okay?” He nodded, heading upstairs and opening the bag with dread. Hesitantly, he tugged open the zipper and a mess of clothes nearly exploded out of it, the contents spilling all over his bed. He gaped at the mess of frills strewn on his covers. Fluffy sweaters in every color of the rainbow, babydolls and miniskirts, tiny shorts, an array of dresses. A pair of emerald panties fell on his shoes and he stumbled away hurriedly, nearly falling in his rush. There was so much of it. He reached out for a peach negligee with a shock, the material wispy-thin and almost liquid between his fingers, delicate champagne lace trimmed along the low neckline that would skim below his collarbones. He swallowed hard. It was so soft. He would look so soft in it. He sat there for—he wasn’t sure how long. It felts like an eternity passed while he sat frozen, surrounded by piles of pretty, colorful fabrics. He just stared in disbelief at the translucent material wrapped between his hands, the way it shimmered under the light, until he realized what he was doing. Cheeks burning, he hastily grabbed the pile in huge handfuls, tossing it all into his massive closet without a care and dumping it all on the wardrobe floor because—he didn’t, he didn’t want any of that, this was disgusting and strange, and he would just die if Jimin walked in and saw all that. He had no idea how he would even begin to explain to his brother if he caught him. He stumbled back onto his bed, breathing erratic, his stomach twisting in knots. He grabbed the duffel and realized there was more there that hadn’t come out in the initial clothing flood. With trembling hands, he pulled out a small kit that revealed creams and makeup, as Seokjin had promised. Another pocket revealed an array of accessories like chokers and animal ears. He pulled out another box and opened it, nearly dropping it when he pulled out its contents. A small, pink plug with a pretty jeweled end and a bottle of strawberry- flavored lube. “Kookie, dinner,” Jimin called up the stairs. Jungkook flinched, tossing the box into his closet with the rest of the mess and hurrying down the stairs, readying himself to force down a few mouthfuls and pretend that everything was perfectly fine. Chapter End Notes Writing Kookie is both incredibly difficult and yet the most natural thing in the world for me. On another note--congratulations to our boys for 'Her' and all their recent show wins! I've been listening to it on loop since it came out. Mic Drop and Piper are my new personal anthems. Constructive criticism is very welcome! And, um... I hate to sound like a broken record, but thank you, really, for the people who have been so kind and supportive of this story. It was so hard for me to even begin to write this fic, and I still find it overwhelming sometimes. I wish I had other, better words, to really say how you guys make me feel, but this is all I have. You are wonderful. ***** Chapter 5 ***** Chapter Summary Namjoon is always there. Even when he isn't. Jungkook goes back to normal life, but there's no such thing anymore. Chapter Notes Warning: messed-up headspace and manipulation incoming. Yes, even more than in previous chapters (in my opinion, anyway). Once again: all aboard the sin train, ladies and gents, we're on a one-way ride to hell. See the end of the chapter for more notes “Hey Jungkookie!” Jungkook froze in place, trying to smile, as his friends Yugyeom and Bambam slapped him on the back, making him flinch. “Missed you yesterday. You didn’t reply to any of our messages.” “Ah, yeah,” he said, coughing a little. “I was sick.” Yugyeom peered at him in concern. “Yeah, maybe you should have stayed home another day. It’s Friday anyway, you could have just taken a long weekend. You don’t look so good.” He put a hand on Jungkook’s clammy brow. Jungkook whined a little and pressed against the cool palm. Yugyeom’s hands were huge. He felt so small with them cupping his face. “Shit, Kook. Infirmary’s right there if you need to go lie down.” He startled, remembering where he was. “No, I’m fine,” he said, making his voice as firm as possible. “Lend me the math notes later, okay? I’m just going to the bathroom, see you in class.” He waited for them to nod before he moved slowly to the nearest bathroom, biting his lip to prevent from crying out all the while. There was a plug inside him. *** Namjoon had called early that morning, jolting him out of sleep long before his alarm. “Good morning, darling,” Namjoon had greeted him, while Jungkook had sleepily fumbled with his phone. “I’m sorry to wake you up so early, but I want you to have a little time to get ready for the day. Daddy doesn’t want to make you skip school again—education is important, after all. But I wanted baby to do something for me today while he’s studying, so he’ll think of daddy a little throughout the day.” *** Jungkook flushed with humiliation as he locked himself in one of the cubicles, trying to get his breathing under control. *** “You have Skype, baby? I’ll add you. I want to see you for this.” “Now listen to daddy…” Namjoon had been disappointed that he wasn’t wearing any of the nightwear Seokjin had given him (“Your Jin-hyung would be heartbroken if he knew you didn’t appreciate his presents, Kookie”) and made him strip slowly out of his pyjamas. Jungkook had obeyed nervously, getting naked for Namjoon one button at a time, sliding the bottoms down to reveal nothing underneath. “You’re not wearing underwear, baby. Were you expecting me?” Jungkook had tried to deny it—he liked sleeping bare, had ever since he was young, but that had just made Namjoon chuckle. “Fair enough. You hardly need encouragement from me, do you? You’re just naturally a little slut. Sleeping like that, just waiting for someone to pull off your pyjamas and just slide right in your beautiful ass. So tempting.” *** Jungkook groaned, biting into his fist as the plug jostled inside of him. It was maddening. It wasn’t big enough to reach his prostate, thank God, but every move he made still had it rubbing against his sensitive insides, making him ache with want. *** Namjoon had made him bend over and show his hole for him. “Gorgeous. Wish I were there to kiss it good morning. Does that embarrass you, sweetheart? Your hole is blushing, just like the rest of you. Cute.” “Get the lube that Taehyung picked out for you. Do you like it? No? You’re hard to please, baby. Strawberry is one of Tae’s favorites. He thought it suited you. Guess we’ll just have to have you over again and test every one we have until we find the perfect one for you. Use each one on your pretty hole, get Tae to lick you out until you come. Have him make out with you after each time so you can taste yourself and the lube on his mouth, see which one you like best. He has an exceptional oral fixation, you know. He’d probably rim you for hours.” *** Without meaning to, Jungkook started palming at the front of his trousers, shakily rubbing his erection. He bit his lip, careful not to make a sound. *** “Go easy, precious. Just rub yourself first, don’t put your fingers in yet. Yes. Just like that.” He had spent what felt like an eternity slowly teasing his opening, going insane as Namjoon refused to let him stop or go any further. “Hands off that pretty cock or you’ll be punished.” Namjoon had chuckled at Jungkook’s whining, the tears flowing freely down his face. “You’re so loud, Kookie. What if you wake Jimin up, hmm? Do you think he’s listening to you through the wall right now, with his hand around his cock, getting off to your sweet little noises?” He had laughed as Jungkook had slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling his high-pitched keening. “Ah, so adorable.” Finally, Namjoon had told him to add more slick and finger himself. “Don’t rush. I know you’re dying to have something up that hungry hole of yours, but you know daddy just wants to make sure you don’t get hurt, right? Slowly, baby.” It had been the first time Jungkook had touched himself there since the incident in the bathroom, and that had been so rushed and desperate that he had barely had time to think. That morning, though, Namjoon had made him explore himself at a maddeningly glacial pace, sinking his fingers in by scant inches until he had been nearly sobbing from impatience. “Okay, Kookie. You can go deeper now. Spread your legs wider, show me everything.” And he had. It had been so, so easy. *** Someone entered the bathroom. Jungkook went still, eyes huge with terror, as he heard one of the faucets turn on. He pressed his hands against his mouth, choking back the whines building up in the back of his throat, hardly daring to breathe as he waited for the other person to leave. *** “So beautiful.” Namjoon’s voice had deepened even further, eyes dark and intent on Jungkook. Lube had spilled on the sheets, the excess flooding from his wet hole, filling the room with the scent of strawberries. “My messy, pretty boy. Are you close?” Jungkook had nodded frantically, whimpering and moaning despite the shame eating at him. “Don’t come, baby.” Jungkook had nearly screamed in frustration and had needed to bite down on his pillow to stop the sound from ripping itself out of his throat. “Can’t,” he had choked out, fingers still moving inside of himself. “I’m going to—I can’t hold it—” “Then take your fingers out and catch your breath a moment, Jungkook,” Namjoon had ordered, voice cracking sharply at him. “Do. Not. Come.” It was the first time he had ever used such a tone with Jungkook, and it had shaken him to the core. He’d hurried to obey, pulling out his fingers so fast that he hissed from the pain. His cock had throbbed so painfully, needily, while he had cried and whined into his messy sheets, ass still on full display. “I won’t, I won’t,” he had promised, sobbing and terrified. “Don’t be mad, please don’t be mad.” “Oh, baby,” Namjoon had groaned, voice softening again. “Darling boy. You’re so good for me.” “Please,” Jungkook had whimpered. “Get your plug, sweetheart.” Jungkook had hesitated. “Do I need to repeat myself?” An edge had crept into Namjoon’s tone again, making Jungkook shudder and comply. “Now put it into your gorgeous hole.” *** Jungkook tried not to think of Namjoon’s constant stream of encouragement as he’d struggled to put the toy in. It wasn’t very big, but he’d never had anything like that up there. Hell, before the last couple of days, he’d never had anything up there at all. Namjoon had been patient and full of praise, telling him how good he looked, that he made the sweetest little sounds, that he should always have something filling up his hungry hole... That he was a good boy. *** It had taken some effort, but he’d managed to get the whole thing inside of himself. It had felt alien and invasive, just seated inside of him while he had lain on the bed, spread out and panting. “Good job, Kookie! Do you like it? It looks so lovely against your skin.” He’d blushed at the jewel glinting between his cheeks and shaken his head in denial. “Don’t be modest, darling. Now I want you to pick out a pair of panties and put them on.” “Which… which ones?” he’d stammered. “Oh, I don’t know, baby. Surprise me. Pick out a pair you like.” And that had been almost worse, being told to choose. He’d stared, paralyzed, at the heap of lace in his closet (“Baby, what is that mess? Jin would have a fit if he knew that you didn’t take care of his gifts properly. When you get home later you’ll be a good boy and put them away nicely, right?”). Something he would like? Namjoon had obviously been joking or was even more batshit insane than Jungkook had thought. He had reached out almost blindly, snatching up a dark crimson pair with a black bow on the front. He had flinched and had started to grab for another, only to pause when he saw that they were even worse, lavender lace with a thong back. Wincing, he had decided to just put on the red satin and get it over with, trying to fit his hard cock into the tiny scrap of fabric. At least they would cover his ass. At least he wouldn’t have to look through the rest of the pile. (Of course, the traitorous voice in his head had whispered that he would have to obey Namjoon and fold them away later, examine and touch each piece, fold away the lovely pastels and seductive silks and try not to think of being forced to wear them—) “Good choice, baby,” Namjoon had praised him. “You should see yourself. You look so good in red.” He had flushed, seeing himself on the screen of their Skype call—the sheen of the scarlet was brilliant against his skin, and the panties hugged his ass beautifully. It had looked obscene, with his length poking obviously through the fabric, already dampening it with his precome, a dirty match to his bitten lips and teary eyes. “And now, I want you to get dressed for school.” “W-what?” Jungkook had stared at him, incredulous, the plug still inside him, his cock aching for release. Namjoon had smiled. “I want you to go to school, wearing the plug and the panties. You’ll sit through your lessons with something deep inside your gorgeous ass. And don’t come. You aren’t allowed to come today.” Jungkook had shaken his head, desperate. “No, you can’t do this to me—“ “Can’t I?” Namjoon had asked idly. Jungkook had fallen silent. “Can you do this for daddy?” Jungkook had refused to look him in the eye as he whispered, “Yes…” “Yes, what?” “…yes, daddy.” “Good boy. Don’t come,” Namjoon had repeated. “I’ll know if you do, Kookie.” He’d smiled. “Have a good day at school, baby.” *** Jungkook took deep breaths, finally calming down. Gritting his teeth, he carefully adjusted himself so that his erection was hidden, throbbing painfully under his belt. He exited the cubicle, splashed water on his face, and prayed that he would somehow make it through the day. *** At lunch, Bambam offered him some strawberry Pocky. Jungkook stared at the box for a long, long moment before bursting into hysterical laughter. “Um, okay,” Bambam said, confused, as he crunched down on a stick and edged a little away from Jungkook’s manic eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay, Kook?” “Oh my god, Bambam, I am so far from okay that I’m on a different fucking planet,” Jungkook sighed, tugging at his own hair in frustration while the plug shifted inside him and he bit down hard on his lip. He’d already had several close calls that morning, but he had so far managed not to come. Thank God for the dark, heavy fabric of his uniform pants, which hid how much precome he’d been leaking all morning. The panties were already ruined, completely soaked through. He thought of taking one of those Pocky sticks and slipping it between his lips, the flavor of strawberry in his mouth, on his tongue, tasting like the lube slicking up his needy ass— He was going insane. He scrubbed at his face. “Sorry, I’m just, I’m tired. But, uh, thanks for worrying about me.” He bit back a moan as he squirmed in his seat. “And get those the hell away from me.” *** Jungkook could have wept with gratitude when their last class of the day finally wrapped up. His notes for the day were completely useless. He had been completely unable to focus in class. Thankfully, Bambam had noticed his distraction and offered him his own notes, attributing his friend’s mental fog to still being sick. “You want to hang out before picking up your hyung today?” Yugyeom asked as they stuffed their books into their bags, Jungkook still going slowly to avoid jostling the plug too much. He waggled his eyebrows. “Don’t forget to say hi to Jimin-hyung for us, tell him we miss his pretty—“ “Finish that sentence and I will literally rip off your dick and make you choke on it,” Jungkook said serenely. “You mean ‘figuratively’.” “No, I mean ‘literally’.” “The creepiest part is how zen you always are whenever you’re threatening to murder Yugyeom for being greasy for your hyung,” Bambam mused as the rest of their classmates filed out in noisy groups. “Like, you’re so calm about it. That’s totally how a serial killer would be. Are we still banned from your house?” “Until Yugyeom stops perving on my brother, yes. Emphatically yes.” “Jesus, Kook. Is there anyone in our grade who isn’t banned from going to your place? God, you're convinced that everyone's in love with your hyung. Waste of a perfectly good house with no parental supervision,” Yugyeom complained. “So, pizza? Games?” Jungkook checked his watch. He had hours to kill while Jimin was at practice. And his phone had stayed conspicuously silent for the day, no further messages coming in from Namjoon so far. But the arousal thrumming through his skin was driving him crazy, and he just wanted—he needed… “Um, I think I’m going to go see Jimin-hyung at practice today,” he said, ducking his head. “Brother complex,” Yugyeom sing-songed. Jungkook punched him in the arm, earning a yelp. “Oh, I’m going to get you for that, Kookie.” With an evil smile, Yugyeom grabbed him around the waist and started tickling him. Jungkook’s eyes went wide. “N-no, stop, stop!” he wailed, thrashing. The plug was a merciless weight inside of him, and he gasped as it moved under Yugyeom’s onslaught. “No—!” His knees buckled and he fell to the floor, struggling to breathe. It was only by bending over in half and squeezing his legs together, that he managed to stave off his orgasm. Thankfully, to his friends, it only looked like he was clutching at his stomach in pain. “Shit, Kook, are you okay?” Yugyeom asked, hovering over him worriedly. Jungkook’s eyes were glazed with frustrated tears as Yugyeom and Bambam each grabbed an arm and hauled him to his feet. A sob escaped him as the movement had the plug shifting again, this time driving so close to his prostate that he nearly screamed out loud. “Kook, I’m sorry, I didn’t think—“ “Give—give me a sec,” he managed to choke out, leaning hard against Bambam who began telling Yugyeom off. Thank goodness they were too busy arguing to notice how hard he was. He quickly sat back down into his seat, slouching to hide the tent in his pants from his friends. He took quick, shallow breaths, trying not to cry. He was on the edge of just shoving his hands down his pants and stroking himself to completion, getting his filthy panties even filthier and coming right in front of his two best friends. The thought made his dick twitch and he whimpered, digging his fingernails into his thighs to get himself under control. “Maybe you should go home, Kook,” Bambam said anxiously. “Jimin-hyung will understand if you don’t come to get him today.” Jungkook shook his head stubbornly. He knew it was stupid, that he should just go home and get away from people as soon he possibly could, bury himself in bed and try not to move at all, maybe take a cold shower to deflate his aching erection. Jimin had even expressly forbidden him from picking him up again, claiming that Jungkook had probably gotten sick because he spent so much time shuttling back and forth instead of getting some rest. To be fair, Jimin was right that the ‘sickness’ had begun because of the train rides. Just not in the way he thought. But he had been so worked up all day and his brain was offline, broken. He needed his hyung. He couldn’t explain it, but he needed Jimin there to pet his head and hug him and tell him that he was his good baby boy— No. He caught his thoughts abruptly. That wasn’t his Jimin-hyung. Even if Jimin sometimes called him a good boy or even, teasingly, called him ‘baby’. But the dark, intent voice in his head… that wasn’t Jimin. Jimin would never do that to him even if Jungkook asked him to. (But Jimin never denied Jungkook anything. So maybe he would? Not that Jungkook would ever ask him to, because it was wrong and Jimin was a pure angel who didn’t need to know about anything like this. Ever. Why was he even thinking about it?) Jungkook forced a smile on his face. “I’m okay, I just got a little light- headed” he managed to lie. “Go easy on me with those giant paws of yours, Gyeomie. And treat me to lunch for, oh, maybe two weeks as apology?” “What? You brat!” Yugyeom said, laughing, swatting him on the head. It took only a few more reassurances before they left him there, all alone in the empty classroom. He waited for the space of a breath, counting silently to ten in his head to see if anyone would come in. Finally Jungkook took out his phone. Jimin was number one on his speed dial. All he had to do was— He shuddered. Finally he scrolled through his contacts list despite the voice screaming in his head to stop. But he needed it. “Baby?” He let out a gasp at the pet name, shuddering, the buzzing in his mind slowing a little. “Jungkookie, sweetheart, are you okay?” Namjoon’s voice was tender, a warm, deep wash of calm. Jungkook’s throat closed up in panic and he took quick, shallow breaths, trying to keep the thudding of his heartbeat under control. His hand was frozen. Hang up, Jungkook, what are you doing? Hang up! He whimpered, the sound loud as an explosion in the otherwise quiet room. Namjoon let out a pained noise. “Oh, precious. Talk to daddy. Tell me what you need.” And despite himself, Jungkook could feel himself melting, sniffling, tears falling freely now, phone still held to his ear as he let Namjoon soothe him over the line. “I’m here, baby. I’m always here.” *** Jungkook was sitting on the school steps when Namjoon’s car pulled up twenty minutes later. Namjoon got down and ran over to him, looking tired and worried. “Kookie?” he asked gently, opening his arms. “I’ve got you.” With a sob, Jungkook let himself fall. Chapter End Notes Was tempted to write a warning for Pocky, but I realized what some readers might imagine if I wrote 'TW: Pocky misuse' as a tag. I made a unilateral commitment to some of the readers in the comments that I would update before the end of October. Made the deadline after all! *cries from relief* It was stressful, but I'm glad I got it done, and I kind of had fun writing this chapter. I hope it was okay, I still second-guess myself a lot writing smut. I'm still freaked out that this is my second ever smut fic and it's already so... yeah. For those patiently (or impatiently) waiting for Yoongi, I'm sorry it's taking a while for me to build up to him. But I'll try to make the wait worth it and I hope you aren't too bored with the current stuff. Please don't forget to vote for BTS in all categories they're nominated for MAMA 2017! ***** Chapter 6 ***** Chapter Summary The carrot and the stick. Good cop, bad cop. Chapter Notes Hi everyone, and happy holidays! Sorry if I kept some of you waiting for this chapter. Special thanks to Grace, who gave me some really helpful feedback on this before I posted (and suffering through difficult-to-read screenshots of the rough draft on Twitter DMs). Quick thing: Although the term subdrop is used in this chapter, please keep in mind that Jungkook and Namjoon do NOT have a dom-sub relationship. This fic in no way represents anything remotely near a healthy dom-sub dynamic (or any healthy dynamic, honestly). I tried to do some research to get a better idea of it but I'm still learning, so please forgive me for any lapses, and I welcome any advice or corrections you guys can give me. Also a reminder that this fic is heavy on manipulation, and this chapter shows it. See the end of the chapter for more notes Jungkook was curled up in the passenger seat, Namjoon’s coat wrapped around him. Namjoon was much taller and broader than he was, so the material practically swallowed him whole. Namjoon pressed a kiss to his forehead before fiddling with his phone and holding it up to his ear. “Jin? I need the apartment for a little while, are you going to be there? Subdrop. No, no, that’s fine. It might be better if it’s just us right now, though. Make sure you tell Tae too. Thanks, babe. Ah… it’s okay, I’ll email Professor Lee later to explain why I left. Professor Kwan might be a problem, but he loves you, right? Oh, don’t be like that. I’ll make it up to you. Yeah. Okay, see you in fifteen.” He pocketed the phone and turned to Jungkook. “How are you doing, baby?” “Y-you have class,” he stammered, shivering, wondering why his blackmailer was acting so concerned. “I can, I can just go home, I shouldn’t have called you—“ “Don’t worry about that,” Namjoon said gently, keeping his voice soft. “I’m very proud of you for calling me, Kookie. You’re my priority, do you understand?” “I d-don’t,” Jungkook said, exhausted. “I don’t understand anything at all. Why I c-can’t stop crying or shaking, why you’re here, why this whole f-fucked-up thing even started—“ Namjoon took his hand and entwined it with his. “Stop, baby. You don’t have to think of anything right now. Just close your eyes. Daddy’s got you.” He kissed Jungkook’s knuckles before starting the car, their fingers still laced together. He drove slowly and carefully, making sure to take it easy on the road so as to avoid jostling Jungkook and the plug still nestled in his ass. He didn’t let go of his hand the whole ride. And Jungkook found that he couldn’t let go either. *** Despite Jungkook’s protests, Namjoon insisted on carrying him up to the apartment. Jungkook knew he was still wobbly, and his brain was still tied up in knots, so perhaps it was for the best. “Relax, baby, I promise daddy’s a little stronger than he looks,” Namjoon reassured him, carefully cradling him in his arms. “I would never drop you.” Namjoon shot a blasé smile at a curious neighbor, greeting her respectfully and walking off with Jungkook before she even had a chance to ask what they were doing. Jungkook hid his face in Namjoon’s neck, closing his eyes and just breathing him in. Thankfully, the apartment was only one the second floor. Jin answered the door with a soft smile just as he was throwing on his jacket, the apartment behind him filled with a sweet smell. “Hi, bunny,” he said, making way to allow Namjoon past him to set Jungkook down on the bed. Namjoon started to take the coat from him, but Jungkook clung tightly onto it. “Let me just get the cookies out of the oven for you guys, then I’ll get going.” “Cookies?” Namjoon asked as he bent to untie Jungkook’s school shoes for him. He pressed a kiss to Jungkook’s ankle as he took them off, rubbing gently at his socked feet. “For Kookie,” Jin said with a seal-like bark of laughter. “That was terrible,” Namjoon said, sighing, but he was smiling too. “Thanks, Jin.” When the oven beeped, Jin expertly retrieved the tray, pink oven mitts on; it was hard to believe this was the same man who’d had his tongue in his ass just yesterday. “I didn’t know what kind you like, but I figured I couldn’t go wrong with chocolate chip,” Jin explained as he put them down to cool. “Next time, tell me what your favorite foods are, and I’ll make them for you, okay?” He kissed Namjoon’s cheek. “Take care of him for us.” Jungkook watched as Jin left, closing the door behind him and leaving just him and Namjoon inside. Namjoon placed a few cookies on a plate and poured a glass of milk. “Can you eat a little for daddy, baby?” He broke one of the cookies in half, blew on it to cool it down, and raised it to Jungkook’s mouth. “Please?” Jungkook hesitantly parted his lips and allowed Namjoon to feed him. “Thank you, sweetheart,” Namjoon said, kissing his forehead as he chewed, the warm, bittersweet chocolate melting on his tongue. The cookies were delicious. He let Namjoon press more bites on him, until the plate held nothing but crumbs. “Now drink, baby.” His mind was starting to clear a little, the sugar doing its work, though his hands were still shaking. “What’s wrong with me?” he whispered. “What the hell are you doing to me?” “Oh, precious,” Namjoon murmured, pulling him to lean against his chest. Jungkook was appalled to find himself burrowing into the contact, burying his face in Namjoon’s shoulder as he sniffled. “You’ve had an intense couple of days. I’m so sorry. When you face situations like that, you get this rush of chemicals and adrenaline and, well, it can leave you feeling the way you are now. Exhaustion, dizziness, coldness, feelings of guilt and shame—” “You mean aside from the fact that I have a lot to feel guilty and ashamed of as it is?” he asked bitterly, the words muffled by Namjoon’s shirt. “How do I fix it?” “Just like this, baby. Keep you warm, make sure you eat and drink. Have someone look after you.” Namjoon petted his head. “Stop acting like you c-care,” he stammered, hating the tremble in his voice, the way his hands refused to move from where they were clutching at Namjoon’s shoulder. “Don’t pretend that this is anything remotely consensual, you don’t get to, to play sweet and nice when you’re the one doing this to me. You think that cookies and cuddles are going to make me forget that?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow at him. “Why, is it working?” Jungkook’s eyes stung as he opened his mouth to deny it and found himself unable to speak. “It is, isn’t it?” Namjoon cooed, stroking his hair. “Poor darling….” He let out a sob. “I don’t, I don’t want this, I don’t want to want this—“ All he wanted was to turn back the clock. To not have stepped on that train, to have told Jimin the first time it had happened, to have stopped before everything had spiraled out of his control so badly that he could feel himself falling apart, could feel Namjoon taking those pieces and putting them back together into something utterly unlike himself. Namjoon was silent for a long moment. “I do care about you, Kookie. I know you can’t think that that’s possible, but I do. We care about you, sweetheart.” “I hate you,” Jungkook said, tears soaking Namjoon’s shirt. He’d cried more in the last few days than he had in years. “I hate you, I hate you so fucking much, you ruined my life, I hate you—“ Namjoon held on to Jungkook tighter. “I know. It’s okay, go ahead and hate me for now, baby. It’s okay.” He kissed Jungkook as the boy wept. “Give it time, sweetheart. We’ll change your mind soon enough.” *** Jungkook woke up with his head throbbing and soft snoring against his ear, Namjoon’s warm weight spooning him from behind. He slowly disentangled himself, careful not to wake Namjoon up. He winced as he felt the plug shifting inside him. His erection had gone down, but the movement reminded him of the arousal still thrumming under his skin, inescapable. He looked around for something to distract him and stopped as his eyes fell on the nightstand. Namjoon’s phone. It had to be his; the lock screen was of Jin and Taehyung at the beach, making a sandcastle together. Stealing a glance at Namjoon, who continued to sleep on, he reached out and picked it up. The phone had the video on it. If he could only delete it—this could stop. Jungkook was terrified that Namjoon was right, that it was only a matter of time until he was completely under Namjoon’s thumb. He could already feel himself falling too deep into Namjoon’s games. His breathing sped up in his excitement, only for him to stop short when it prompted him for a password. He bit his lip, heart sinking. He knew next to nothing about Namjoon. He couldn’t even begin to guess what kind of password he would use. “What are you doing, baby?” He almost dropped the phone. He tried not to shake as he turned to see Namjoon watching him with intent eyes. Jungkook tried for an innocent smile. “I, I, I just woke up,” he said. “And I was looking for my phone—“ “The phone in your pocket? The one that’s a different model from mine? Now why would that magically transform itself and teleport onto my nightstand, hmm?” Namjoon drawled. “I told you I don’t like liars, sweetheart.” He held out a hand. “Give it here.” Jungkook hesitated, realizing that he didn’t actually have to open the phone to get to the video. He could throw it out the window, or run to the bathroom and toss it into the toilet. He started backing away, clutching it tightly. Namjoon’s eyes grew hard. “Kookie. I’m warning you right now to give that back. This is your last chance.” Jungkook ran to the window and tried to yank it open, only to freeze as he realized it wouldn’t budge. Namjoon just sat there, face unreadable. “For once I’m glad that this crappy apartment is so old. That’s been stuck for ages,” he said. “And this only the second floor, Kookie. I don’t think it would have shattered on impact—at least, not badly enough for any data to be unsalvageable. Nice try, but surely you’re smarter than that.” Sauntering over, he plucked the phone out of Jungkook’s hand. “It wouldn’t have worked, anyway. I’m not the only one with that video.” His heart dropped to his feet. “Who?” he asked. “Jin? Taehyung?” Namjoon hummed. “Who knows? Maybe it’s out there for the whole world to see. Maybe you should start looking for it on websites—what would a good title for that be? ‘Slutty Twink Fucks Himself in Public Bathroom’?” “You didn’t,” Jungkook whispered, mouth going dry. “You, you wouldn’t—“ “Maybe,” Namjoon said with a shrug. “I suppose it depends on you, doesn’t it? Do you know how to behave?” “I, I do,” he stammered. “I—“ “If you know how to behave, then the only explanation is that you’re being a brat on purpose, hmm? That won’t do.” He sat back down on the bed. “Come here, Jungkook.” Jungkook. Not baby or darling or precious or sweetheart or any one of the hundreds of pet names Namjoon had been calling him. A stab of apprehension went through him. “Don’t make me have to ask you twice.” With leaden feet, he dragged himself to Namjoon, biting his lip. “Please, you said you c-care about me, right? I, I’m s-sorry, I won’t do it again—“ “Liar,” Namjoon said. “No, Jungkook, you can’t just pout and get your way all the time. I don’t want to do this, but you give me no choice. I suppose some lessons are meant to be learned the hard way.” Namjoon reached out and flicked the button of his school trousers open, pulling them down around his ankles. He paused to admire Jungkook’s half-hard cock inside the soaked panties, his legs slick with precome all the way down to his knees. “It’s almost a shame to take them off.” He removed them as well, leaving Jungkook’s lower half completely bare. Finally, he reached out and slowly took out the plug, making Jungkook shudder and gasp as his hole clenched around nothing. “Bend over my lap, Jungkook.” His heart thudded, blood rushing in his ears. “Wh… why?” “Because I’m going to punish you,” Namjoon said, tugging Jungkook down so that his abdomen was resting over Namjoon’s thighs. “You lied to me. I gave you a last chance to return my phone, but you didn’t listen. And while I understand you’re having a very trying day, I’m not letting that slide. That would set a bad precedent.” His hand came down with a painful crack on Jungkook’s cheek. Jungkook let out a yelp as heat bloomed across his ass. “One,” Namjoon said. “Count them for me, Jungkook.” He bit his lip. “How many—“ “Until I think you’ve learned your lesson. Now say it. One.” “O-one.” “Don’t stop counting.” Namjoon’s hand repeated the motion on his other cheek. “Two,” Jungkook whimpered, flinching under the sting. The next three slaps followed in rapid succession as Jungkook tried to gasp for breath. He realized with a shock that no one had ever spanked him in his life. His father was rarely around. Junghyun had tussled with him sometimes when they were younger, but while his older brother had cuffed him around the head or even gotten into the occasional fistfight with him, he had never spanked him. Jimin had been nothing but adoring; if he was angry at Jungkook, he expressed it via scolding and the silent treatment, until Jungkook tearfully broke down and apologized to him, which always made Jimin melt immediately and shower him with hugs and kisses. The sixth smack caught him slightly lower and he jerked forward, a moan ripping out of his throat. His eyes widened. The pain was starting to feel… strange. Unconsciously, he shifted, legs spreading a little wider as he clutched at Namjoon’s ankle like it was a lifeline. Namjoon said nothing, simply brought his hand down again, harder this time. “Ah!” Jungkook’s couldn’t help crying out, then started to panic. It almost felt… “You’re not counting, Jungkook.” “S-s-seven,” he stammered, trying to hide his face when he realized to his humiliation that he was getting hard. He bit down hard on his lip, drawing blood from the wound he’d inflicted on himself yesterday, as the eighth smack sent his hips moving forward, pressing his growing erection into Namjoon’s leg. “Looks like you’re enjoying this,” Namjoon said, voice still even. “Not much of a punishment, is it, Jungkook?” He lowered his head as tears filled his eyes. “Please,” he whispered, trying to ignore his aching cock. “Please what, Jungkook?” Namjoon asked, spanking him again. Jungkook keened as it drove his length against Namjoon’s leg, precome leaking from the tip and staining Namjoon’s pants. “Please don’t notice what a filthy slut you are for this? Please don’t get even angrier that you’re getting my pants dirty because you’re such a greedy little bitch? Look at you, getting hard and humping my leg over a simple spanking.” He snorted. “Count, Jungkook.” He felt cold, bereft, even as lust continued to thrum under his skin. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “Please, I’m sorry.” “I said count, Jungkook.” He tried. Nine, ten, eleven. His head was spinning. Namjoon continued to address him in a monotone, telling him to count. Twelve. Thirteen. His cock was so hard, a hot, aching weight between his legs. “Stop, s-stop, please, stop,” he begged. Namjoon studied him carefully. Jungkook was starting to hope that maybe Namjoon would let him go, but— “No, Jungkook.” Fourteen. Namjoon didn’t speak. The room was silent save for Jungkook’s cries and the sound of his palm hitting Jungkook’s abused cheeks. Fifteen. Sixteen. He moaned as Namjoon circled his fingers along his balls, teasing his sensitive flesh. He pushed into the touch and Namjoon moved his hand away, denying him. “It h-hurts, please, stop, oh my God—“ “Count.” Seventeen. Eighteen. He shivered and twitched, weeping, still teetering on the edge. His ears were ringing. Nineteen. His cock was leaking everywhere. “Slut.” Namjoon’s voice was clinical, assessing. As though him being a slut were nothing more than a fact. Jungkook was starting to think that maybe it was. Twenty. He broke. Namjoon paused as the sobs increased in volume, Jungkook’s hand on his ankle tightening into a death grip as the boy moaned and thrashed in his lap when his hand smacked down again. “Jungkook,” he said, testing, harsh. “T-t-twenty-one, please, please d-don’t call me that, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, half out of his mind. It felt like someone had taken his brain and replaced it with static. The ice in Namjoon’s voice was cutting into him, a tangible pain that made him gasp for air. “You, you don’t c-call me Jungkook. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, I’m s-so sorry daddy—“ Namjoon sighed. “Oh, baby,” he said, gathering Jungkook up in his arms and sitting him in his lap, pressing gentle kisses against his tear-stained cheeks. Jungkook moaned, cock dripping against Namjoon’s shirt, his ass raw and stinging. “Don’t, don’t, going to get your shirt dirty, I’m sorry—“ “Sweetheart, it’s okay, daddy doesn’t mind,” Namjoon soothed, kissing him over and over as Jungkook cried. “No more, I’m sorry daddy, I’m sorry, I w-was b-b-bad,” Jungkook sobbed, winding his arms around Namjoon’s neck, apologies continuing to spill from his lips in a flood. “It’s okay, precious. Daddy loves his baby boy even when he’s been bad,” Namjoon said, smoothing his hair down. “Calm down, Kookie. Breathe with daddy, okay?” “I won’t be bad again,” Jungkook bawled, mind hazy, on the edge of hyperventilating. “I won’t, I p-promise, I’ll be good.” “My good baby,” Namjoon said. “You’re forgiven, Kookie. Daddy forgives you.”Jungkook let out a gasp at the words, air rushing into his lungs. It was almost as though a physical weight had been taken from him, and he found himself collapsing against Namjoon. He wrapped a hand around Jungkook’s aching erection. “Do you want to come, darling boy?” His tongue felt heavy. “You said,” he tried. “Said not to come today, daddy.” “I know, baby, but it’s all right. Daddy won’t mind if you come now. Daddy’s proud that you tried so hard today. Took your punishment so well, such a brave boy. You’ve earned it, sweetheart.” Some of the chill around Jungkook receded at the fondness in Namjoon’s tone. He wanted more of that warmth. “Won’t,” he whispered. “Can keep being good. Can be good for you, daddy.” Namjoon shuddered, eyes bright with wonder. “Fuck. You’re fucking perfect, sweetheart.” Jungkook mewled in his arms as Namjoon tightened their embrace. Mindless, he pressed desperate, sloppy kisses on Namjoon, trembling. “Do you know why I punished you, Kookie?” “B-because I was bad,” Jungkook sniffled into Namjoon’s shoulder. “Yes,” Namjoon agreed. “But also because daddy cares about you, darling. Because I know how happy it would make you if you were just a good, obedient boy. Daddy doesn’t like punishing you. If I had my way, I would just spoil you all the time, baby, but when you’re naughty you don’t give me any choice. I know it hurts right now, but daddy just wants to see you happy, to make you feel good. Do you understand, Kookie?” There was something not quite right there somewhere, but Jungkook couldn’t think what that might be, because Namjoon’s hands were so gentle, stroking his back, soothing away all the terror that had left utterly destroyed, so small and pathetic in Namjoon’s arms. And it did feel good. He could feel an odd happiness fluttering in the pit of his stomach, a small mercy in the haze of pain and fear that had him clutching tightly onto Namjoon like a lifeline. All he could do was nod dumbly, face still buried against Namjoon’s neck, just breathing in the scent of him. “Won’t you thank daddy for being patient with you today?” Namjoon asked, pressing a kiss to his ear. “Thank you,” Jungkook sobbed, hiccupping and shaking. “Thank you, thank you daddy—“ “Good boy.” Jungkook whimpered as Namjoon petted his hair. “I can’t wait until you’re all ours, baby.” *** By the time Jimin got home, Jungkook already had dinner on the table. “You made kimchi jjigae,” Jimin said happily, slipping up behind Jungkook and wrapping his arms around his waist. “My favorite.” He giggled as he tweaked the ribbon of the apron Jungkook was wearing, a joke gift from Jimin on his twelfth birthday: pink and ruffled, with the words ‘Kiss the Kook’ printed on it in white cursive. Their parents had gone to America for a business trip and hadn’t been able to make it back to celebrate with him. As it would later turn out, it wouldn’t be the last time they’d miss his birthday; but Jungkook eventually found that he didn’t really mind, because Jimin always, always made sure that he had the best birthdays ever. On his twelfth birthday, he and Jimin had gotten up at midnight to bake a cake. It had turned out lopsided and slightly burnt, but they’d slathered it in enough chocolate frosting to make it taste edible. They’d woken up Junghyun with their laughter, the oldest brother coming down to find them covered in frosting, Jungkook wearing the ridiculous apron and squealing with delight as Jimin had licked a glob of the sticky icing off his ear. It had been hard to say what had made Junghyun angrier: the sudden awakening, or the apron. He’d hated the thing on sight, but Jungkook persisted in wearing it every time he prepared their meals, Junghyun’s disapproval notwithstanding. It was still one of Jungkook’s fondest memories, despite the fact that it had ended in a screaming match between Junghyun and Jimin while he’d cowered upstairs in his bedroom where they’d sent him. “You know the rules. You’re wearing the apron, so I have to kiss you now,” Jimin joked, pressing his lips sweetly to the back of Jungkook’s neck. Usually Jungkook would laugh and complain that Jimin’s kisses tickled, but today he turned around and buried his face in Jimin’s shoulder, still wrung out from earlier. “Hmm? What’s this?” Jimin asked, petting him as Jungkook looked at him with pleading eyes. “Is my Kookie feeling lonely today?” He pecked the top of Jungkook’s head, then his ear, his cheek, peppering him with little kisses while Jungkook whined softly. Jungkook turned his head at the wrong moment and the last one caught the corner of his mouth, too close, and Jungkook immediately forced himself away. He bit his lip. “I, I just missed you today, hyung,” he said, resisting the urge to touch the spot where Jimin’s lips had just been. “I wish you’d let me come get you at the studio again, that’s all.” He ducked away, missing Jimin’s warmth immediately. “Dinner’s almost done. Sit down and I’ll dish it out for us. Think Junghyun-hyung will be home tonight?” “God, I hope not,” Jimin said, making a face. “I like it better when it’s just us.” “Me too,” Jungkook admitted as he served them both. He pulled his chair closer to Jimin’s than usual, still off-balance from earlier. He could tell at least that the physical contact with Jimin was helping him to settle down—the last thing he needed was another episode driving him to call Namjoon. Jimin didn’t say a word, only dragged him closer so that their shoulders touched as they ate, occasionally lifting his chopsticks to feed Jungkook some of his food. Jungkook closed his eyes, sighing softly as he chewed. Jimin always knew what he needed. Jimin praised his cooking while he chattered about his day and their friend Yoongi, who was busy working on his new mixtape. Jungkook was only half- listening, making sure to nod occasionally and make noises to indicate interest, but he was still too wound up to really pay attention. He couldn’t remember getting home. He could vaguely recall Namjoon’s voice murmuring things in his ear, his hands gently wiping away his tears and dressing him, lips trailing down his body. It had all been a blur. When Namjoon had taken him home, he’d come inside with Jungkook and run him a hot bath. Jungkook had slowly come to awareness in the water, Namjoon running a washcloth over him. “All right, precious?” Namjoon had asked. Jungkook had nodded silently, closing his eyes and tipping his head back as Namjoon had massaged his scalp. “Okay. Just relax, daddy will take care of you.” He’d practically carried Jungkook back to his room, swaddled in a warm towel, before he’d rifled through his closet and come up with delicate, lacy pink panties and matching stockings. “Can you wear these for me tonight, baby?” Jungkook’s cheeks had heated. His head had cleared a bit and he had been absolutely humiliated at how he’d acted earlier, shameless and needy and so pathetic. “I—that’s—“ “Hmm.” Namjoon had set them down on the bed. “I suppose I wouldn’t know if you did or you didn’t wear these to sleep, would I? And I know you like sleeping commando. I promise you that I won’t ask about whether you put them on or not. It’s your choice. But I would like it very much if you did, baby. It would make daddy very happy.” Jungkook’s mouth had gone dry. “It would make you happy?” “Yes, baby. It would make me very, very happy. Now, I’ll be going unless you’d rather I not leave. Will you be okay, sweetheart? Do you want me to stay with you until Jiminnie gets home?” Jungkook had bitten his lip, undecided, before finally shaking his head. He had stroked Jungkook’s hair. “Tomorrow’s Saturday so we have the whole day to play. I can't wait to introduce you to a very good friend of ours, baby. I think you’ll like him very much. Until then—don’t come.” His lips had quirked up in a smile. “You told me you could be good for me, precious. Think you can wait that long?” He had hung his head. “I… y-yes,” he had whispered. His treacherous mouth had almost let the word ‘daddy’ follow, but he’d bit it back at the last moment. Namjoon hadn’t pushed. “My good boy. I’ll come pick you up tomorrow afternoon. Goodnight, sweetheart.” He’d kissed him lightly on the lips before he’d left, leaving Jungkook in the room with those damnable panties and stockings on his bed. And Namjoon wouldn’t know, he said he wouldn’t check—but Jungkook had picked them up anyway. He didn’t know why, only had this terrible, aching feeling that he had to. They were amazingly soft. He’d stared in the mirror for hours at the way the material looked against his skin, naked save for the lingerie. For a wild moment he’d thought of the lipsticks Jin had given him, how one of them would no doubt match this because Jin had thrown basically an entire department store’s worth of makeup at him. It would look so pretty, Namjoon would probably like it even more— What the fuck was wrong with him? He had grabbed the first pair of sweatpants he could lay his hands on and hastily covered himself, though they looked off somehow, the loose grey material covering all that pink except for his stocking feet peeking out from under the baggy hems. He had rooted through his endless collection of white shirts—he loved his white shirts, but somehow he had felt unbalanced looking through them, like he was standing on shaky ground—before finding a jacket that belonged to Jimin, oversized and well-worn. He’d slipped it on without hesitation, the material still smelling faintly of his brother. That, at least, had felt somehow right. And even better when he’d tied the apron on. It was almost the same shade of pink as the hidden panties. The thought should have made him ashamed, but instead it made heat bloom in the pit of his stomach, dark and delicious. “Kookie, are you listening to me?” Jungkook flinched, jolting in his seat. “S-sorry, hyung,” he stammered. “I was just lost in thought.” “I figured,” Jimin said, pouting. “You barely even paid attention when I talked about Yoongi-hyung, and you always love hearing about Yoongi-hyung.” “Aw, are you jealous, hyung?” Jungkook teased, pushing all thoughts of his discomfort away, giggling as Jimin’s pout got even more pronounced. “Yah! I’ll duel Yoongi-hyung for you,” Jimin said, scowling. “How dare he get my baby brother to like him more than me.” A smile bloomed on Jungkook’s lips. “He’ll squish you flat, hyung.” “He’ll never see it coming. I’m sneaky and I always fight dirty,” Jimin boasted with a wink. “But why not spare Yoongi-hyung and tell me I’m your favorite? Don’t you still love your poor Jiminnie-hyung, Kookie?” Jungkook blushed, powerless to resist Jimin’s aegyo. “Love you, hyung,” he mumbled, ducking his head shyly. Jimin’s whole face crinkled up into a smile, filling Jungkook’s stomach with butterflies. He bit his lip, hesitating. “Hyung…” “Hmm?” “Can you…” He trailed off, looking down at his hands. Jimin set his chopsticks down and reached over to twine their fingers together, stilling his nervous fidgeting. “What is it, baby? Come on, don’t be embarrassed,” Jimin coaxed, rubbing his thumb along Jungkook’s knuckles. Jungkook refused to look up at him. “Is something wrong? You can ask hyung for anything.” He mumbled the words, barely audible. “C-can you say it back?” “Oh,” Jimin said, softening. The grin on his face disappeared, replaced with a seriousness uncharacteristic of his brother. Jimin tightened his hold on Jungkook’s hand as he spoke. “I love you too, Kookie.” Finally, finally, the restlessness that had been thrumming under Jungkook’s skin seemed to settle, nothing but warm contentment washing over him. “Oh,” he said in surprise, blinking away the sudden dampness stinging at his eyes. Mortified, he reached up to rub at them with his sleeve and started babbling excuses. “I don’t even know why I’m—th-the kimchi must be too spicy, it’s making my eyes water—“ Jimin was silent for a moment before he raised his other hand to wipe Jungkook’s tears away. “Yeah, that must be it. The kimchi,” he agreed gently. He pulled away and changed the subject, talking nonsense about the day he had in the studio and some new routine that their dance captain Hoseok was putting together. “Thanks, hyung,” Jungkook whispered. Jimin paused mid-sentence and just leaned in to kiss his cheek, squeezing his hand. “I love you, Kookie,” he murmured again, before continuing with his rambling. Jungkook said nothing more, simply held onto him more tightly. Chapter End Notes I rewrote the last part of this chapter a half dozen times because Jikook was being uncooperative. I have a lot of Jikook backstory headcanons for this fic, though. Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated (and will help with future chapters, please help, my brain is starting to quit on me). ***** Chapter 7 ***** Chapter Summary Namjoon takes Jungkook to meet the mysterious Suga. But the process of getting there is a little more eventful than Jungkook thought it would be... Chapter Notes A belated Happy Valentine's Day, an on-time Happy Chinese New Year, and an early Happy Birthday to Hobi! February is so eventful. *wonders if Hixtape is dropping this month* Remember to mind the tags. This chapter is heavy on humiliation and exhibitionism (but then again, I suppose that applies to this entire fic). This chapter is pretty much the prequel to meeting Yoongi, which I've been building up to for the longest time. Enjoy! See the end of the chapter for more notes He tossed and turned for hours, trying to get comfortable. The clock on his bedside table taunted him, the glowing numbers displaying 2:45 a.m. He squeezed his eyes shut. It was normal enough for him. His usual insomnia made him restless, like an itch under his skin that he couldn’t get rid of. He thought with wry disgust of how easily he’d fallen asleep or blacked out over the last few days. The silence of his bedroom made him hyper-aware of every little thing. Like the panties and stockings he was wearing to sleep, still hidden under his clothes. His hand slipped under his sweatpants to rub at himself through the fabric as he whimpered softly. He wondered if Namjoon had imagined him wearing it when he’d picked them out. The material felt amazing against his cock as he stroked himself through it. He realized what he was doing and ripped his hand away in horror. Namjoon was changing him. It had only been a handful of days and already he could barely recognize himself. Grabbing his Iron man plushie, he headed out of his room and stopped at Jimin’s door. Junghyun hadn’t come home again. He hesitated before quietly twisting the knob open and padding in. Jimin was already asleep. Jungkook hesitated, envious at how peaceful he looked, before slipping in next to his brother as silently as he could. They’d used to sleep in each other’s beds all the time, until Jungkook had turned seven and their parents had told them they needed to separate a little, and wouldn’t it be nice if they played with other children sometimes, or maybe at least Junghyun? Jungkook remembered being upset by it and crying to Jimin, while Jimin had comforted him and promised that nothing needed to change. Jungkook had sneaked into Jimin’s room all the time anyway and left early in the mornings before anyone realized that he hadn't been in his own bed. They would smile innocently and pretend to go to their separate rooms, before Jungkook would crawl under Jimin's sheets and let his brother smother him with affectionate kisses, their arms wrapped around each other. Jungkook became accustomed to falling asleep with Jimin's voice in his ear and his warmth curled around him, keeping him safe. It had come to a stop when Jungkook had been ten. Junghyun had caught Jungkook slipping back into his bedroom early one morning—they’d been too careless, made complacent by years of getting away with it. Junghyun had cornered Jungkook and threatened to tell their parents, and lectured him for hours about how he was too old to be sleeping in his brother’s bed and he needed to realize that his attachment to Jimin was getting ridiculous. “No!” Jungkook had argued, stomping his foot. “You’re always like this, you and mom and dad, you’re always so mean to Jiminnie-hyung! I’m the only one who cares about him and you’re trying to take me away from him too!” “Where the hell are you getting these ideas? We’re just talking about you sleeping in your own bed, for God’s sake. You’re not a kid anymore, Kook,” Junghyun had said. “You need to stop this.” “Jimin-hyung doesn’t mind,” Jungkook had retorted. Junghyun had simply shaken his head. “How would you know? If he did, would he tell you, or would he just keep it to himself to spare your feelings?” He had seen by the look on Jungkook’s face that he had hit a nerve. “He wouldn’t do that,” Jungkook had whispered, tears filling his eyes. “Jiminnie-hyung loves me.” “Yeah, that’s the problem,” Junghyun had muttered, flinching in the face of Jungkook’s sniffles, unprepared to deal with his crying brother. Jungkook had been a crybaby, but it had always been Jimin to comfort him, never Junghyun. “Don’t cry, Kook. You’re not a baby anymore.” With a sigh, Junghyun had clumsily patted Jungkook on the back, trying to get him to calm down. “Listen. You and Jimin are both growing up. As you grow older, it’s natural for the two of you to grow apart. He’ll make other friends, get a girlfriend… if you’re always stuck to him, how’s he going to do any of that?” Jungkook had bitten his tongue until it had nearly bled, holding back the impulse to say that Jimin didn’t need anyone else, he already had Jungkook. Junghyun had frowned. “If you keep on like this, one day you’ll come to resent each other. Don’t be a brat about it. You don’t want Jimin to hate you, do you?” Jungkook had opened his mouth, then closed it. After a moment of silence, he had slowly nodded his head, trying to parse the alien words together. The words ‘Jimin’ and ‘hate’ just seemed wrong in the same sentence. “I’m just trying to look out for you, Kook,” Junghyun had told him, giving him an awkward one-armed hug. "And Kook? If I catch you again, I'm telling dad." Jungkook had never told Jimin about their conversation. Instead, that night, he stayed in his own room, heartsick as the hours passed without him getting up to go to his brother. Finally, his door had creaked open and Jimin had padded in on silent feet, looking at him in question. The concern on Jimin's face had made guilt curl up in the pit of his stomach. "What's wrong, baby?" Jimin had whispered, stroking his hair. "Why didn't you come to me?" Jungkook had only said, “I’m too old for that now, hyung.” Jimin had pouted and puffed his cheeks out, obviously unhappy. Jungkook’s heart had broken. He hated upsetting Jimin; it had been true then, and it was true even now. “You mean you’ve outgrown your Jimin-hyung? You don’t like me anymore?” “No, no, never!” Jungkook had protested, tackling him in a hug. “I’ll always love you, Jimin-hyung!” Jimin had laughed and kissed him on the cheek, ruffling his hair. “Good, you’d better. But are you sure? You can’t sleep without me, Kookie. You always need me by your side. I know you think you’re all grown up now, but you’re still my little baby.” “Hyuuuung, I’m not a baby,” Jungkook had whined in protest, giggling as Jimin let go of him. “You’re hyung’s baby,” Jimin had declared. “No arguing with me!” “Fine, I’m your baby,” Jungkook had said, sticking his tongue out at him. Jimin had grinned in satisfaction. “And you’ll always be my baby.” “And I’ll always be your baby,” Jungkook had parroted obediently. “Promise?” Jimin had asked, holding out his pinky. Jungkook had stifled a laugh as he’d linked their fingers together. “I’ll always be hyung’s baby. I promise, always and always.” He’d let out a squeal of delight as Jimin had practically smothered him in another hug. He had felt his resolve start to break, already on the verge of begging Jimin to make space for him in his bed after all. He’d bitten his lip, shaking off the moment of weakness, and hurried to usher Jimin out. “But I’m still sleeping on my own from now on. Goodnight, hyungie!” “Goodnight, Kookie,” Jimin had said, kissing his cheek. He'd cupped Jungkook's face in his hands, thumb stroking his skin. “When you find that you can’t sleep tonight… you know my door is always open for you.” Jungkook had smiled and nodded as he’d burrowed into his own bed, the sheets cold and unfamiliar. They'd smelled different, too. The bed was too big without Jimin’s body curled up against his own, the room too quiet without Jimin murmuring in his ear. He had lain there, staring mindlessly up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to take him. And had stayed in the same position, unable to sleep, until his alarm had gone off hours later, thinking only of Junghyun’s words—he didn’t want Jimin to hate him. He couldn’t bear it. Every time he thought of heading to Jimin’s room, he could hear Junghyun’s voice in his head. That had been when Jungkook’s insomnia began. Jimin had said nothing when Jungkook had come down to breakfast the next day with dark circles under his eyes, pale from lack of sleep. He hadn't commented when Jungkook had stumbled around in a daze after being unable to sleep for nearly a week. He’d only spoken a little more softly, touched Jungkook more gently. He'd been the one who came to get Jungkook from the infirmary when he'd passed out at school from exhaustion, and had kept it a secret from the rest of their family. Jungkook had waited for Jimin to scold him and insist that he sleep with him again, but Jimin hadn't said a word. For his birthday that year, two weeks from Jungkook's decision to stop sleeping in his room—two weeks of no sleep, until Jungkook was on the edge of hallucinating from tiredness—Jimin had gotten Jungkook the Iron Man plushie. “To help you sleep better,” Jimin had said, ruffling his hair when he’d thanked him for the present. "You can hug it and pretend it's me. You can't sleep without me, can you?" Jungkook had nodded helplessly, arms curling around the plushie as he'd buried his face in its soft material. "Oh, Kookie," Jimin had sighed, kissing the top of his head. "This way you'll sleep a little bit, okay?" It hadn't been a perfect solution. Jungkook still found himself unable to sleep more than a few hours a night, but he was still endlessly grateful for that much. A few hours was better than nothing, which was all he got without the plushie. Without Jimin. Tonight, despite remembering Junghyun’s words, Jungkook found his body moving on its own. After everything, he just needed Jimin. It was almost laughable to think of Jimin hating him for something as stupid as being a clingy sleeper when he was keeping secrets so much worse than that. “Kookie?” Jimin hummed, barely conscious, as the bed dipped under Jungkook’s weight. “Mm, Kookie.” Jungkook didn’t reply, simply curled into Jimin with his plushie clutched in his arms. He suppressed a squeak of surprise as Jimin threw a leg over him and tugged him close. “My Kookie.” He whimpered, brushing his nose against Jimin’s cheek. It felt right to be back here, as though he’d been missing a part of himself that he hadn’t even realized had been gone for so long. Jungkook’s eyes widened as Jimin’s lips pressed fully onto his, sweet and brief, before Jimin sighed and apparently carried right on sleeping. He lay there, heart hammering in his chest, for long, agonizing minutes as Jimin mumbled nonsense into his neck, still dreaming. Finally, the warmth of Jimin cuddling him and the soft breaths puffing in his ear lulled him to sleep, safe in Jimin’s embrace. *** He was dimly aware of hands tracing his face, lips pressing down on his forehead, his eyelids, his mouth. “Hyung?” he whispered, not opening his eyes. “It’s still early, baby,” Jimin murmured in his ear, holding him close. There was something strange about his voice, but Jungkook was too tired to think about it. “Go back to sleep.” Jungkook sighed, burrowing further into his warmth. “…’m dreaming?” “Yes,” Jimin said. “You’re dreaming. It’s such a nice dream, isn’t it? Go back to sleep, darling.” “…kay, hyung. Love you.” “I love you too, baby boy,” he heard Jimin reply, just before unconsciousness took him again. *** He woke up with arms wrapped around his waist, warm breath tickling the nape of his neck. “Jimin-hyung,” he breathed, moaning and squirming back to press closer into the tall body spooned up against him. He froze. Tall…? “Good morning, sweetheart.” A chuckle. “Or afternoon, anyway. You weren’t answering your phone so I just came over, but you looked so cute I didn’t want to wake you up.” Jungkook pulled away and turned to face him. That explained his dream earlier—not Jimin after all, of course not. He almost wanted to cry. “Namjoon.” “That’s not how you address me, Kookie.” He shuddered, cheeks reddening. “D… daddy.” “Much better.” “How did you get in here?” Jungkook asked, dread filling the pit of his stomach. “Sometimes life just opens doors when you least expect it to,” Namjoon deadpanned. “Which is very careless, of course—who knows what kind of unsavory characters could come in and take advantage of a sweet, defenseless baby while he sleeps.” Jungkook gritted his teeth, knowing that Namjoon had no intention of actually answering his question. “Never mind. Where’s Jimin-hyung? You didn’t… is he still here? Does he know that you’re here?” He thought with panic of the possibility of Jimin clattering around in the kitchen, making lunch, while Namjoon had Jungkook tucked in his arms on Jimin’s bed. He imagined Jimin coming to call them down to eat, only to find Namjoon fucking him. Oh God. The thought made him flush even further and he had to swallow back a horrified whimper. He was obviously a sick, sick person. “Now what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, hmm? You’re all red,” Namjoon teased. “N-nothing,” he stammered. “Just please, please, tell me that hyung doesn’t know you’re here.” Namjoon smiled. “I should have known that you were thinking of your hyung. I’ll answer your question, but give daddy a good morning kiss first, baby.” With only a moment of hesitation, he quickly pecked Namjoon on the lips before wriggling away. “There,” he said, blushing even more deeply. Namjoon looked thoroughly charmed. “You’re adorable,” he said. “But I’m going to kiss you properly now.” Straddling him, he bent to press his lips against Jungkook’s, grabbing his hands and pinning them down on the bed. Jungkook gasped as Namjoon slipped his tongue into his mouth, stroking against the roof of his mouth. Aligning their hips, he grinded down against him, making Jungkook moan into the kiss. He arched up into the friction as shocks of pleasure raced down his spine. “No, no, stop,” Jungkook protested, struggling to free his hands and push him away. “P-please, this is hyung’s bed, not here, please—“ Namjoon smirked. “You sure, baby? Don’t you want to make a nice mess on your big brother’s bed for him to find later, get your come all over his sheets so that they smell like you?” Tears prickled at his eyes as he felt his erection jump at Namjoon’s words. “You can do whatever you want to me in my room, daddy,” he said. “Please.” “Well, who could say no to that?” Namjoon said, amused. “Pity I can’t take you up on that offer. We’re already running late as it is. I told Suga we’d meet him in about an hour or so, and we still have to prepare you. Not that you aren’t worth the wait, sweetheart.” He released Jungkook and held up a note. “Jimin left this for you on his nightstand. ‘Kookie, I have an early study group at the library, but I’ll be home for dinner. Your favorite hyung is treating tonight so you don’t need to cook! Be a good boy. Love you!’ Aww, that’s cute. I especially like that last part. Do you normally sleep in your brother’s bed?” Jungkook snatched the paper from Namjoon and read through it, trying to ignore Namjoon’s last question. Jimin hadn’t said a word about him sneaking into his bed last night. “I have to be back before Jimin-hyung comes home,” he said. Namjoon hummed. “I wouldn’t dream of keeping you away from your darling Jiminnie-hyung,” he promised, voice saccharine. “But that all depends on whether you do well for us today. I don’t think we’ll have a problem—you did tell me that you could be good.” He smiled. “You won’t disappoint me, right, Kookie?” *** Jungkook tried to lower himself even further in the car seat, praying that no one could see him through the window. “Sit up straight, baby,” Namjoon scolded as he made a turn. “Good posture is important.” Jungkook looked at him pleadingly as he continued to hunch over, trying to hide. “Please—“ “Kookie.” Namjoon reached over and put his hand high up on Jungkook’s thigh, making him shiver. “Sit up.” Whimpering, Jungkook straightened his back, cheeks flushed, as Namjoon’s hand touched bare skin. It inched up the layers of ruffles of the lacy white dress that Jungkook was wearing, pressed like a hot brand on his leg, unbearably close to his dick. Namjoon stroked the sensitive flesh there slowly, enjoying the way Jungkook blushed and trembled. “You look so pretty, baby boy,” he murmured. “You should dress like this more often.” Namjoon had ushered Jungkook into the shower earlier and had him clean himself everywhere, the memory making Jungkook cringe now. Namjoon had stripped him, smiling when he’d noted that Jungkook had worn the panties and stockings like he’d asked the night previous, though to his credit he hadn’t commented on it. He’d insisted on helping Jungkook wash himself, his naked body pressed against Jungkook’s in the shower as he’d slowly run his hands all over Jungkook’s frame, working him up to the point of delirium as he'd toyed with his nipples. He’d explained patiently how he was to prepare his ass, making Jungkook’s face flame in embarrassment as he’d obeyed. Then he’d sat Jungkook in front of the mirror and dug around for the bag Jin had given him, pulling out the makeup kit and handing it to Jungkook. “You remember what Jin showed you, don’t you?” Jungkook had stared at the kit, feeling lost. “I… I think so…” “Get yourself dolled up, sweetheart,” Namjoon had told him. “I’ll watch and help you.” “I can’t,” he had tried to argue, hands shaking. “I’ll mess it up, I don’t—“ “Try for me, please,” Namjoon had directed, stroking his head. “Darling Kookie. My pretty baby. Remember how beautiful you looked when Jin did it for you? Didn’t you like it?” Jungkook had whimpered. “Or are you worried you liked it too much?” “I, I don’t think I can…” Namjoon had kissed him gently. “I believe in you, Kookie. You can do it.” He'd stroked Jungkook’s cheek. “My beautiful boy can do anything he puts his mind to.” Jungkook had had no choice but to start applying the cosmetics. Jin had labeled everything so it was easy to find what to use, and Jungkook had recognized which ones Jin had used on him last time. It had been somehow soothing to rub the sweet-smelling creams onto his face, to dab on powder and concealer. Namjoon had corrected him every time he'd been about to make a mistake, which Jungkook had found himself inexplicably grateful for. He’d hesitated at lining the kohl on his eyes but finally braved it. It had only smudged the tiniest amount, which wasn’t so bad for his first time. “I, it’s not quite right,” he’d stammered. Jimin had often teased him for being a perfectionist, even for small things that he didn’t like doing. He supposed it was true even for something as stupid as putting on makeup. “Don’t worry, precious, you’re doing just fine. And practice will make perfect.” Namjoon had smirked as Jungkook’s hand had trembled, nearly spilling the loose powder he’d taken up. Practice. He’d had no doubt that Namjoon would have him in lip gloss and eyeliner more often. “That’s lovely,” Namjoon had murmured, watching him in the mirror as Jungkook had carefully swiped lip tint on. Jungkook had felt himself flush under his scrutiny. He couldn’t deny that it had made him feel oddly… beautiful. It wasn’t as flawless as it had been when Jin had done it for him, but the end result was fairly close. Every one of his best features was highlighted by the cosmetics, and all of the flaws hidden. He’d supposed he could understand why women liked makeup so much. Namjoon had tilted his face up for a bruising kiss as Jungkook had groaned, fingers twisting in Namjoon’s hair. “You’ll smudge it,” he had tried to protest. “Nope, that’ll stick, don’t worry,” Namjoon had said with a smile, dotting more kisses against Jungkook’s mouth. “Jin’s stuff is top quality. You’re going to need proper makeup remover to get that off. Good thing too, because by the time Suga’s done with you, you’re going to be wrecked.” Namjoon had handed him pink, beribboned panties and white knee socks trimmed with lace. Jungkook had put them on with little protest. They’d become something expected, even familiar; but when he’d seen Namjoon pulling out the dress and Mary Jane shoes, he’d balked. “I can’t wear that,” he’d said, eyes rounding. “Yes you can, sweetheart.” “But, but, we’re going to go out,” Jungkook had said. “What if someone sees me?” “Then they’ll see you,” Namjoon had replied, unperturbed. Jungkook had stared in horror. “You’re joking.” “What will they see, anyway? Just a pretty little boy in a dress,” Namjoon had snickered. “Maybe they’ll get hot and bothered over it. One look at you and they’ll want to flip your skirt up and get to your sweet hole.” “Nam—daddy,” Jungkook had corrected himself hastily. “Can’t I just… could I please just bring it?” “No, baby,” Namjoon had said. “You’re going to wear it on the way. We’re wasting time arguing.” Finally, he'd relented. “Look, sweetheart, we’ll be taking my car and going straight to Suga’s apartment. You aren’t really going to be out in public, okay? No one you know will see you.” He’d smiled as Jungkook had hesitated. “Do it for me, baby? Do it to make daddy happy?” Jungkook had been out the door before he’d even realized. Still, now he wished he’d protested more, because the paranoia of people in the other cars looking over at him was making him hot with embarrassment. Namjoon’s hand on his leg wasn’t helping at all. He whined as Namjoon’s fingers trailed over his inner thigh, teasing him. “S-stop, please,” he whispered, feeling his cock twitch. He was still wound up from not being able to come yesterday, and the slightest touch made him shudder. “So easy,” Namjoon hummed as he slowed down, pausing at the red light. “Can you lift up your skirt for me, sweetheart?” Jungkook gaped at him. “H-here?” “Where else? Do you want to get down and do it? I personally think you’d be doing a public service, making traffic a little less boring.” Namjoon shrugged and reached over to open Jungkook’s door. Jungkook let out a shriek, grabbing his arm to stop him. Namjoon paused, fingers curled around the door handle. “Hmm? What’s the matter? I thought you didn’t want to do it in the car?” Jungkook bit his lip as he slowly raised his skirt, revealing his erection straining against the panties. “Poor baby,” Namjoon murmured as he sat back in his seat and retracted his arm, eyes fixed on Jungkook. “I’m sure you must be aching right now. Why don’t you go ahead and relieve yourself, hmm?” “Relieve myself…?” Namjoon smirked. “Go on, precious. Touch yourself.” Jungkook dropped his skirt, covering himself quickly. “I’m, I’m fine. I don’t need to—“ “Sure you do,” Namjoon said. “I know how needy you are, sweetheart. You melt so beautifully when someone’s touching you.” He laughed softly. “When you’re touching yourself, too. Fingering yourself like you’re dying for it.” Jungkook felt himself shake at the reminder. “Daddy, please…” “Isn’t that right, baby? You’re my needy boy.” He closed his eyes. “I’m, I—“ “My good, beautiful, needy baby boy.” Namjoon smiled darkly at him. “My needy boy who gets off on strangers finger-fucking him on the train." "P-please don't..." "My needy boy who slips his cute little fingers up his own ass in a public bathroom, moaning like a whore for anyone to hear." Namjoon snickered at the look on Jungkook's face. "Play with yourself, Kookie. Give me a show.” Tears slid down his face as he slowly lifted his skirt again and took his member out of his panties, shame shooting through his body. He reached a hand down, only for Namjoon to stop him. “Dry, sweetheart? No, no, let’s not hurt you any more than we need to,” he said, shaking his head, even though they were both aware that Jungkook’s cock was already slick and ready with his precome. Jungkook held his breath, waiting for what new torture Namjoon had in store. Namjoon lifted Jungkook’s palm to his lips and laved his tongue over it, getting the skin wet with his saliva. Jungkook let out a moan, unable to look away as Namjoon sucked his fingers into his mouth and licked them until they were dripping. Namjoon smirked as he released his hand. “Go on, baby. Wet your cock with daddy’s spit.” His hand felt so hot and filthy. Jungkook started stroking himself, whimpering and avoiding Namjoon’s heated gaze. “Beautiful,” Namjoon said, his voice deepening. The praise went straight to Jungkook’s dick. “Go slowly, baby.” Jungkook groaned as he involuntarily lifted his hips. “So gorgeous with your hand wrapped around your pretty little cock. So greedy and perfect.” “D-daddy, please, can I go faster? I, I need…” Jungkook pleaded as he shut his eyes, wanting to get it over with as soon as possible. He could already feel his orgasm just within reach, but the glacial pace Namjoon kept him at just wasn’t enough. He needed more. “First you didn’t want to, and now you’re begging for it?” Namjoon chuckled. “I don’t think so, Kookie. You’ll take what I give you and be grateful I allow you that much. Spread your legs wider, darling boy. Let me see you.” Jungkook keened, crying quietly as he fucked his hand with maddening slowness. “Tell me how it feels, sweetheart.” “It’s, I,” Jungkook flushed, unable to stop himself. The slick noises his hand made on his cock were obscenely loud in the enclosed space. “Use your words, darling. It’s good, isn’t it?” “So good,” he whined, squirming. “Ah, daddy, please—“ “You want more, don’t you, baby?” “Y-yes,” Jungkook choked out as his thumb rubbed over a particularly sensitive spot under the head of his dick. “It’s not, not enough, oh, I need—“ "You need someone to play with your hungry hole too, don't you? My beautiful slut." Jungkook moaned at the words, flushing. "I-I'm n-not—" “Don't lie, baby. Look at you, all on display, touching yourself in public and begging for more. Only a slut would do that. So what does that make you, sweetheart?" He chuckled as Jungkook whined in protest, shaking his head, but his hand wouldn't stop moving. Self-loathing and shame shot through him. He couldn't help himself, not even when Namjoon laughed at his desperation. "Tell me what you are, my lovely little Kookie, and maybe I'll let you come." He let out a sob, need pulsing through him. He clamped his lips tightly shut, refusing to give in. "Oh? Someone's being stubborn," Namjoon said. He batted Jungkook's hand away and stroked a single finger along his shaft, making him jolt. Namjoon let out a hum of amusement and continued, doing nothing more than running one finger up and down Jungkook's aching cock, winding Jungkook up even tighter. "You must be going out of your mind, hmm? Too bad you're being a bad boy. Only good boys who obey their daddies are allowed to come." His lips parted in a soft whine at the disappointed look in Namjoon's eyes. "I... I'm a... a s-slut." Namjoon's finger continued tracing along his cock. "What's that, baby? I can't hear you." He raised his trembling voice. "I'm... I'm a slut." Namjoon smiled and pulled away. "Louder." Jungkook let out a wail, hips stuttering as he wrapped a hand around himself again, stroking himself desperately. "I'm a slut," he cried out. "I'm a slut, daddy! Please let me come, l-let me come, I'm a s-slut, I can't take this anymore—" "Yes, you can, Kookie. You're doing so well. You like this?” Namjoon prompted. “Of course you do. Come on, say it.” “I… I like it, daddy,” Jungkook moaned, throwing his head back and pulling at himself even faster. "S-so good—" “You aren’t the only one who likes it.” Namjoon grinned. “Looks like you’ve got some fans, baby. Wave to your audience.” Jungkook’s eyes shot open as he turned his gaze toward the window. A bus was waiting in the lane next to him, on his side of the car. He saw faces pressed to the bus’s windows, gaping down at him. From their higher angle, there was no doubt they could look directly into his window and see everything. There were eyes on him, so many people seeing him with his hand wrapped around his aching cock, his dress bunched around his thighs, his legs in stockings, his face contorted with pleasure… “Oh, God!” he burst out, cheeks flaming as his hips bucked at the feeling of people staring. He nearly came then and there, but Namjoon reached over and choked his cock.“Ah—!“ He twitched with oversensitivity as his orgasm was ruined by the iron grip around his dick, a flood of precome dripping down his thighs. "Good boy, Kookie," Namjoon praised him as he thrashed in his seat. “D -daddy,” he whimpered, crying, hips still shaking. “Th-they s-saw me.” “And I’m sure you gave them some excellent fantasy material for tonight. You were so into it, you didn’t even notice,” Namjoon chuckled as Jungkook frantically tugged the skirt back down, curling into himself in mortification. He hid his face in his hands, trying not to wonder how many of the people who had seen him would go home that night and get off to the memory of him. But somehow the thought made him even hotter, even though he was disgusted with himself for it. The humiliation only grew as he realized he was still hard and desperately wished that Namjoon would let him come, get himself dirty with all those people watching him. The words were on the tip of his tongue, ready for him to beg to be allowed to finish, and it was only by biting down hard until he could taste blood that he managed to stop himself. Namjoon gunned the engine and let Jungkook cry from shame. “Oh well. Light’s green, baby, so let’s get going. That was cute. But we’re almost there, so you’ll just have to be patient.” *** The sobs had faded into quiet hiccups and sniffles by the time they pulled up to an apartment complex. The rest of the ride had been mercifully quiet, with Namjoon only pausing occasionally to pet Jungkook's head to try to calm him down. Namjoon parked the car and got out, swinging around to open Jungkook’s door for him. “Come on, sweetheart, we’ve kept him waiting long enough,” he said. Jungkook blushed, seeing that there were people walking around, but he simply ducked his head and followed, grabbing at the edge of Namjoon’s jacket and plodding after him. He kept his eyes down, refusing to look at anything but the hem of his skirt and his feet in the pink shoes. He didn’t dare look up in case they were attracting attention, but he prayed that no one would notice them. Namjoon pulled him over to the elevators and pressed the up button. It seemed to take forever before the elevator came and opened for them. Jungkook couldn't help but glance up, only to meet shocked gazes. His cheeks burned and he ducked his head, trying to ignore the whispers as the people exited the elevator, turning back to look at him. "Did you see that?" Jungkook heard as they walked past him. His grip on Namjoon's jacket tightened, fingers twisting in the material. His cock twitched in his panties once again, feeling all those stares on him. "Wow, he's..." "It's okay," Namjoon murmured, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Look only at daddy, precious. Look only at me." Jungkook gulped and allowed Namjoon to pull him into the now-empty elevator, relaxing fractionally as they were alone once again. His head was a mess, unable to parse the different emotions rushing through him. The ride up was silent, Namjoon still keeping a protective hold on him. “Now baby, I hope I can trust you to be a good boy,” Namjoon warned him as they came to a stop in front of a door on the fifth floor. “Suga’s… temperamental, and I haven’t explained to him who you are. I expect he’ll be… upset. I’ll be relying on you to help him calm down. Let me tell you a secret. If he gets really, really angry, just tell him this.” He bent down and whispered into Jungkook’s ear. Jungkook’s mouth fell open. “What? How could I possibly—” “Just trust me. I'm counting on you, sweetheart. Don't let me down.” Without giving Jungkook time to process, he knocked on the door. “Hyung, it’s me.” “About time, Namjoon-ah!” a hoarse voice called out. “Give me a second—“ It opened. Jungkook let out a gasp when he met familiar eyes staring at him. “Y… Yoongi-hyung?” Chapter End Notes Cliffhanger! Please forgive any mistakes in this chapter. RL is pretty intense right now and I don't have as much time as I would like to work on this fic. If you notice any errors, please point them out and I'll fix them. Next chapter: YOONGI YOONGI YOONGI. I've been dying to write Yoongi for the longest time, and it's finally here. *throws confetti in the air* Also, please know that I try my best to update, but real life responsibilities get in the way a lot and sometimes writer's block is just unavoidable. I don't want to rush writing the chapters too much because that will make the quality of the story fall (I mean, assuming this story has any quality to begin with, welp) and I feel like that would be a huge disservice to the readers. I really appreciate all of you who have been so lovely and patient with me and this fic. Thank you to everyone who looks forward to the updates and takes the time to leave feedback. You guys are the best! ***** Chapter 8 ***** Chapter Summary Yoongi gives Jungkook a chance. Jungkook makes a decision. Chapter Notes The long-awaited Yoonkook. It took me so many false starts and stops to get this chapter completed. Even now I'm not completely happy with it, but I figured it would be better to set it free into the wild rather than keep staring endlessly at it. I hope you guys enjoy! See the end of the chapter for more notes They stared at each other for a long moment. “What the fuck, Namjoon,” Yoongi said flatly once he’d recovered enough composure to speak, gaping at Jungkook. “What the—“   “Hyung, you’d better let us in before someone passes by and sees us,” Namjoon pointed out. Swearing, Yoongi made way for them to enter and hurried them inside. He gently pushed Jungkook over to the couch before rounding on Namjoon.   Namjoon tried for a smile. “Surprise. Isn’t he cute?”   Yoongi punched him in the face.   “Oh my god, Yoongi-hyung!” Jungkook shrieked as Namjoon stumbled back. “No, hyung!”   Namjoon brought a hand up to his jaw, prodding at it gingerly, shifting it from side to side to make sure no permanent damage was done. “It’s okay, baby, calm down,” he told Jungkook. “He pulled that punch. If Yoongi-hyung really wanted to hurt me, I wouldn’t have teeth left.”   “Only because I don’t feel like having you bleed all over my carpet until you’re done explaining what the hell is going on,” Yoongi growled. His eyes darted to Jungkook and he cursed. “Christ, Kookie. You, you’ve… What the hell?”   Jungkook found himself at a loss for words, his heart still hammering in his chest. “I… I didn’t know who I was meeting today,” he said meekly, hyperaware of the dress falling around his knees and the makeup on his face. Yoongi had been their neighbor and Jimin’s best friend since childhood, and he’d always had a soft spot for Jungkook. He’d even had a crush on Yoongi when they were younger, though that had never amounted to anything. Then Yoongi had moved out for college, though he still made time for the two It had been a while since they’d last seen each other, as Jimin had been busy with his studying, and Yoongi had been caught up with his music.   And now he was seeing Jungkook like this,dressed up like a gender-bent Lolita fantasy. “I, I thought… Da… Namjoon-hyung said he was… introducing me to someone named Suga.”   “My scene name,” Yoongi said. “Everyone in the group uses one different from their real names when talking with outsiders. A few of us friends, we… we have these, these kinks, okay.” He looked pained to be talking about it with Jungkook, whom he’d always treated as a kid. “So we help each other out. We use scene names, we…”   “A-and, you… you’re one of them?” Jungkook choked out, his head suddenly buzzing. Yoongi, his trusted childhood friend. Yoongi was part of this, this fucked up group that took boys and blackmailed them into—   Yoongi gave him an unreadable look. “Fuck, okay, yes, I participate in our… games, sometimes.”   “Games,” Jungkook repeated numbly.   “Jesus, fine, sex. The group has sex, okay, we’re friends who get off with each other and we do it in ways that polite society isn’t exactly okay with. Fuck. I don’t want to be saying this to you, Kook-ah, you’re, you’re a kid… how did Joon even get you into this?”   Jungkook stared at him for a moment before he realized.   Yoongi had no idea that Jungkook wasn’t there of his own volition.   “He’s old enough,” Namjoon cut in. Jungkook almost didn’t hear him, mind too tangled with the revelation. If Yoongi didn’t know, was it possible that the others didn’t either? Jin, Taehyung…?   Yoongi glared at Namjoon. “You, shut your mouth until I ask you to open it.” Namjoon held up his hands in surrender, still wincing as he rubbed at his chin. Yoongi gritted his teeth. “Kook, I haven’t for a while, not since… not for months, okay. It’s just that Namjoon said that he was sure that the person he was bringing this time…”   Namjoon smirked. “I told you he’d be perfect for you, hyung. Wasn’t I right?”   Yoongi didn’t look away from Jungkook. “Didn’t I say to keep that mouth shut, little Joonie? You’ll learn to listen to me, or I’m going to fucking make you.” Jungkook shuddered at the absolute command in Yoongi’s voice and went pliant as he trailed a thumb over the faint dampness on Jungkook’s cheeks. He’d always been weak for Jungkook’s tears. “Kookie, baby. You’ve been crying. Did he make you cry?” Spellbound, Jungkook could only nod weakly.   Yoongi’s eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”   He grabbed Namjoon and slammed him against the wall, pinning an arm against his throat. Namjoon was taller and broader than him, but he went easily. “Hyung!” Jungkook squeaked in alarm.   “Sit tight, Kookie, I’ll be with you in a second.” Yoongi pressed his arm down hard, crushing Namjoon’s windpipe. “You. Made. Him. Cry. Start talking, Namjoon.”   “Trust me, it wasn’t anything he didn’t like. You should have seen how prettily he begged—“   “When I said talk, I didn’t mean you could talk shit. Explain. Now.”   “I told you I was bringing you someone,” Namjoon pointed out, looking completely unfazed though his voice was tight with pain.   “My best friend’s little brother,” Yoongi snarled. “This isn’t what we agreed on. I taught him how to ride a bike. I helped him with his fucking algebra homework. I used to be the one to put fucking band-aids on his skinned knees and kiss the boo-boos better, for God’s sake. Are you seriously—“   “So? You can still kiss his adorable knees. Just in a different capacity.” Namjoon refused to be cowed. “Spare me the self-righteousness, hyung. You don’t get to pick and choose when the childhood friend card applies.”   “Watch your mouth, little Joonie. You’re getting a little too brave,” Yoongi said.   Namjoon smiled. “You and I both know that he looks exactly like everything you want.” Jungkook squirmed as they continued to discuss him like he wasn’t even there.   Yoongi’s gaze flickered towards Jungkook again and he swallowed hard. Jungkook sat paralyzed on the couch, shivering as his eyes slid down his body. Yoongi groaned.  “Shut the fuck up,” he hissed, but he let the other man go. “He’s a baby.”   Namjoon smirked, massaging his throat. “Yeah, he is. Currently, he’s mybaby. And if you stopped pretending to be so above it all, he could be yours too.”   Yoongi turned to Jungkook. “Kookie…” He scrubbed at his face, frustrated. “This is a fucking mess. I’m calling Jimin.”   “Don’t!” Jungkook burst out, grabbing his sleeve to stop him. “H… hyung’s studying, please don’t disturb him.”   “Don’t disturb him? Jungkook-ah, are you out of your mind? No, Kookie,” Yoongi said softly, looking down at Jungkook’s hand curled around his arm. “Jungkook- ah, how did you end up here like this? What did Namjoon do? Tell hyung.”   Jungkook froze. Namjoon folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow at Jungkook, waiting for his answer.   “Go right ahead,” Namjoon told Yoongi, eyes still on Jungkook. “Call Jimin.”   Jungkook knew that he could—and should—tell Yoongi everything. The video, the blackmail, how Namjoon was sharing him with his friends, lying to them all by telling them that Jungkook was willingly participating in his fucked-up games. Yoongi would murder Namjoon, Jungkook could go back to his normal life, and they would live happily ever after.   “Don’t be afraid, baby,” Yoongi coaxed him. “I promise you, everything will be all right.”   Tears welled in his eyes. He could be free. The last few days—the past month—could be nothing more than a nightmare to forget.   Yoongi let out a wounded, furious noise as Jungkook started to cry.   “Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi said, his voice unsettlingly calm despite the rage burning in his eyes. “You’d better run.”   Yoongi took a single step forward. “Because I’m going to kill you.”   But.   “Wait!” Jungkook said, grabbing his arm. “Hyung, please, don’t!”   Yoongi would tell Jimin. Namjoonwould tell Jimin. It didn’t matter who, and it didn’t matter how, but Jimin would know, one way or another. Namjoon and Jimin were friends, and close ones from the looks of it—there was no way he and Yoongi could sever that relationship without telling him what happened. Jimin would know all about how Jungkook had let himself become Namjoon’s plaything, had dressed like a doll for his pleasure and touched himself in his car, that it had all stemmed from the fact that he’d gotten off on a stranger groping him on the train… he’d never treat Jungkook the same way again.   Jimin would blame himself. He’d left Jungkook on his own with Namjoon that first night, after all. He hadn’t noticed Namjoon touching Kookie for a month straight. And Jimin would never forgive himself, for failing to stop it from happening. He knew his hyung too well—Jimin would distance himself, sure that it would be better for him to stay away from Jungkook, no matter how much Jungkook would beg him not to. The thought of ever separating from Jimin made him physically sick.   “What are you doing, Kook?” Yoongi demanded.   “Just… just give me a moment,” Jungkook said weakly. “Please, hyung…” He knew it was unfair as he turned his wet eyes up at Yoongi. Yoongi could never say no to him, and especially not when he was crying.   Even if by some miracle Yoongi kept quiet about it, Namjoon had told him he wasn’t the only one with a copy of the video. Namjoon wasn’t stupid. Jungkook was sure that if anything happened, Jimin would be getting an e-mail from that person with a nice little attachment.   Jungkook could ask Jimin not to watch it, but that would almost be worse. It would always be a question mark between the two of them: what was on the video that Namjoon had blackmailed Jungkook with? What was the terrible thing that had driven Jungkook to do everything Namjoon had demanded of him? Jimin would think about it everyday. He’d never be able to look at Jungkook without imagining what could be on it.   His perfect, beautiful Kookie would no longer be perfect and beautiful. Jimin would know what a dirty slut he was. Jimin would hate him.   He would lose Jimin forever.   The thought made Jungkook want to scream.   He’d already gone through so much at this point to keep Jimin from seeing it. There was no way he could stop now.   And judging by the gleam in Namjoon’s eyes, Namjoon knew it.   “H… hyung,” he whispered, pulling Yoongi a little closer. He took a deep breath. “I… Namjoon-hyung is… he’s my daddy.” He struggled not to die of embarrassment as his mind worked overtime, trying to come up with the most convincing lie. “I’m his b… baby boy. He, he takes care of me.”   Yoongi stared at him as Jungkook continued, cheeks heating. “We… we met by accident through Jiminnie-hyung and it, it just clicked. I… I’ve been… curious,” he stammered. “I just, I didn’t know that there was this side of me that… that wanted this so much.” He choked out the words. “I like it, Yoongi- hyung…”   “Kookie,” Yoongi breathed in disbelief. “Baby, what are you saying? No, look me in the eyes and really tell me that.”   Jungkook swallowed hard and clenched his hands into fists. He thought of Namjoon blowing him for the first time in his bedroom. How Jin and Taehyung had fucked him with their mouths while he watched himself in the mirror, moaning like a whore. The strange feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when he glossed his lips and put on the frilly lingerie that they’d given him. How close he’d been to coming just from knowing that people were watching him touch himself.   Of how he felt when Namjoon simply held him close and told him he was his beautiful, good baby boy.   He looked Yoongi directly in the eye, knowing deep inside that he was making a mistake. And yet…   “I love it.”   “I can’t stop myself,” he confessed, clinging to Yoongi, tears still sliding down his face. He felt sick as he realized that some twisted part of him meant it, no matter how small, no matter how much the rest of him was screaming in denial. Something inside him was breaking as he uttered the words—there was no going back from this, and he knew it. “I… I want it. I needit. The things he does to me. It makes me feel so p-pretty and small. It, it feels so g-good. Hyung, please, I want it so much, need it so bad…”   “Shit, Kookie.” Yoongi groaned, cupping Jungkook’s face in his hands.   Namjoon stepped over to Jungkook’s side. “Good boy.”   Jungkook whined, closing his eyes and letting the praise wash over him. He felt filthy, letting his body respond to Namjoon, for the first time not fighting it, just giving in to the physical pull between them. He needed to convince Yoongi, and from the look on Yoongi’s face, it was working. Jungkook turned and pressed himself against Namjoon’s body, getting up on his tiptoes to slot their mouths together messily. He groaned into the kiss, winding his arms around Namjoon’s neck.   And it felt…   So good, so good, his mind whispered as he melted against Namjoon, his body singing with pleasure as he finally got some measure of relief after being kept on the edge for so long. More, daddy, please…   Namjoon broke away, a string of saliva still joining their lips. “I like you like this, baby. Finally, you’re being honest with yourself,” he whispered in Jungkook’s ear, before straightening and directing his gaze to Yoongi. “Yoongi- hyung. You want him. He wants this. You heard it from his own mouth. Are you finally going to stop hesitating and give him what he needs? You were overthinking it, as usual. Stop playing the white knight and hurry up already.”   He placed his hands on Jungkook’s shoulder and pushed him gently towards Yoongi. “Seeing him like this, how can you say no, hmm? Doesn’t he look lovely? So lovely and so, so willing?”   “You’re a fucking asshole, Namjoon,” Yoongi said, as Jungkook stumbled into Yoongi’s arms. “You didn’t tell me you were going to use Jin, you know that’s fucking cheating.” Yoongi wavered, one hand still reaching for the phone in his pocket. “Look, I don’t—“   “Please,” Jungkook said shakily, nuzzling into Yoongi’s chest. “Please, don’t bother hyung, just… just be with me. I need you.” He remembered then what Namjoon had whispered in his ear earlier. His cheeks pinked with embarrassment as he lowered his eyes before looking up at Yoongi through his lashes, biting at his lower lip.   “P… please love me, oppa.”   Yoongi’s eyes darkened. “Fuck,” he exploded, struggling with himself. It took him a long, long moment, standing there, holding Jungkook too tightly. “God damn it, Jungkookie, I’m giving you an out, why are you—“   He let out a slow breath, eyes shut, before he raised his hand from his pocket and brought it up to thumb at Jungkook’s plush lower lip.   “Kookie,” Yoongi said, voice tight. “This is your last chance to walk away.” The words came out almost as a plea. “Tell me no and I swear, baby, I swear I’ll make everything okay. But if you say yes… are you sure?”   Namjoon was smirking at him over Yoongi’s shoulder. Jungkook closed his eyes and steeled himself, heat rushing through his veins. It was like being back in the apartment with Jin and Taehyung and Namjoon, leaving his body behind, letting it all happen to this other creature who inhabited his skin while his mind shut down, letting the sensations wash over him and pull him under. His head was already a tangled mess, and Yoongi’s hands were so large and perfect on his skin. All he had to do was stop fighting it.   So he did.   “Yes, oppa,” he whispered. Yoongi shuddered as the words fell from his lips, so easy.   Yoongi straightened, the doubt on his face wiped away, a moment of regret flashing over his face before it settled into absolute calm.   “Okay, princess,” he murmured.  He kissed Jungkook hard, licking deep into his mouth. Jungkook moaned as Yoongi’s lips ghosted over his ear, his neck. “Let oppa take you to bed.”   ***   When they’d been younger, Yoongi had been the kind of kid who regularly got into trouble. He’d come home with scraped-up knuckles and bruises on his face. Jimin would patch him up, lips pursed and shoulders angrily hunched up to his ears, while Jungkook would cling to whatever side of Yoongi was the least injured and cry as Yoongi tried not to bleed all over them. He would calmly suffer through Jimin’s furious lectures and always tried to calm down Jungkook, picking him up and putting him in his lap even when Jungkook had gotten too old for it, wiping away his tears.   “Why are you crying, silly?” Yoongi would tease, grinning despite his bloody nose. “I’m the one who got punched, not you.”   “I-i-it hurts me when Y-Yoongi-hyung is hurt,” Jungkook had mumbled, burying his face in Yoongi’s shirt.   “Aish,” Yoongi had sighed, petting his hair. “Your heart is too big, baby. Hyung’s fine, okay? This is nothing. Smile for me, okay?”   “Don’t want to,” Jungkook had sulked, getting snot and tears all over Yoongi.   “It hurts more when my baby Kookie won’t smile,” Yoongi had sighed dramatically. “Hyung might never recover…”   “Don’t make fun of me!” Jungkook had protested, tensing up in Yoongi’s arms.   Yoongi had shushed him, kissing the top of his head. “I wouldn’t, baby. But… please smile for me?”   His lips wobbled as a fresh spate of tears threatened, but he’d tried his best to approximate a watery smile at Yoongi.   Jimin had explained it to him once: Yoongi, small, sensitive, and already so in love with music that he had no time for most of the world, looked too much like an easy target to most idiots. But Yoongi, contrary to his appearance, had learned to give as good as he got and more. He didn’t go out looking for fights, but he would never be the kind of person to let anyone get away with hurting him, or anyone else, for that matter.   Conceptually, Jungkook had gotten it—he’d seen Yoongi take on guys twice his size when they’d tried to push him around or worse, tried to push Jimin or Jungkook around. But something in him had still refused to understand how it was possible that Yoongi could get into so many fights because with him and Jimin, Yoongi was the kindest, gentlest person in the world.   Now, he thought he could understand the duality of Min Yoongi. Yoongi sat on his bed, watching Jungkook standing before him, uncertain under the assessing eyes. There was something dangerous in the look, heavy and heated.   Yoongi was a predator, and Jungkook was nothing but prey.   Namjoon was sitting on a chair near the door, just watching. His lips were curled up in the slightest of smiles as the silence stretched on. Yoongi hadn’t had anyone to play with in ages, and he had no doubt that he was going to savor it to the utmost.   “Better tell me your safeword before we begin, Kook-ah,” Yoongi said.   Jungkook looked at him in confusion. “My…?”   “It’s ‘video’,” Namjoon interrupted, making Jungkook flinch. “Remember, Jungkook?” He held his phone carelessly in one hand, aimed in their direction. “If one of us does something you don’t like, if you think you can’t handle what we’re doing, all you have to do is say ‘video’… and all of this will stop.”   Jungkook nearly choked at the warning. He nodded numbly before turning back to Yoongi, who was frowning at him, a deep furrow between his brows as he studied Jungkook.   “Video?” Yoongi repeated, raising an eyebrow.   “Inside joke,” Namjoon said dismissively. Yoongi scowled, suspicious.   Jungkook closed his eyes, exhaled, tried to relax. He couldn’t let Yoongi catch on.   “Oppa,” he said breathily, fidgeting a little, nervous fingers playing with the hem of his dress. The frown seemed to ease a little, so he tried again, wondering what would be best to say. “Um, I, daddy told me I’d be playing with you today… he, um, he and Jin-hyung picked out my dress for me. Do you… do you like it?”   He felt his cheeks flaming, wondering if it was possible to die from humiliation, as the words spilled from his lips. He felt certain Yoongi would laugh, or be disgusted with him, his childhood friend, acting like this—   He peeked at Yoongi and felt as though the breath had been knocked out of him.   Yoongi looked like he wanted to eat him alive.   “I love it, princess. You look so beautiful,” Yoongi finally said in his gravelly voice, his eyes hooded. “Did you make yourself pretty for oppa?”   Jungkook flushed more deeply, nodding and dropping his gaze. Yoongi hummed in approval. “Are you pretty all over, sweetheart? Pretty under your lovely dress?” he asked. Another reluctant nod. “Will you show oppa?”   Jungkook timidly lifted his skirt, showing Yoongi his hard cock straining in his lingerie, thighs slick with precome. Yoongi groaned at the sight. “O-oppa, it’s so embarrassing,” he whimpered, pulse quickening under the attention.   “But you like it,” Yoongi said. “Look at that. You’ve ruined your cute panties, baby girl.”   Jungkook whined at the pet name, his member twitching. “Oh,” Yoongi said, smiling. “Baby girl.” Jungkook gasped as more precome spurted out of his dick.   Yoongi’s eyes gleamed. “I wonder if I could make you come just by talking dirty in your ear, princess. I bet I could. I could tie you up and whisper the filthiest things to you until you came in your pretty, pretty panties, completely untouched.” Jungkook moaned, wondering if it were possible, if he could be driven over the edge just by Yoongi’s hypnotic voice. He shuddered.   “On your knees, baby girl,” Yoongi said softly. He spread his legs, and Jungkook clumsily got to his knees between them, putting him nearly level with Yoongi’s clothed bulge. “Have you ever given a blowjob before?”   “N… no, oppa,” he said, dazed.   “Then oppa will teach you,” Yoongi said, petting his head. “Take me out, sweetheart.” Jungkook reached for him, but Yoongi stopped him. “I don’t want you using your hands.”   Jungkook looked at him in confusion. “But… how…?”   Yoongi tapped a finger to Jungkook’s lips. “Nothing but these. Come on, show me how badly you want it.”   Jungkook flushed as he bent forward to unzip Yoongi with his mouth. It was clumsy, and he got saliva all over Yoongi’s pants, but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, Yoongi’s gaze got even hotter as Jungkook panted into his crotch, struggling to maneuver the zipper with nothing but his teeth and tongue. Jungkook whined helplessly as he bit down on the waistband of Yoongi’s boxers and tried to tug them down, Yoongi lifting his hips to help. His teeth grazed against Yoongi’s thighs as he managed to pull off the cloth, his whole frame trembling from the effort.     “Very good, baby girl,” Yoongi praised as his cock was finally freed. Jungkook already looked completely fucked out just from that, drooling and pink-cheeked, jaw sore from the strain.  “Go on, angel, show me how beautiful your mouth looks with my cock in it.”   Jungkook stared at Yoongi’s dick. For all he’d done with Namjoon, Jin and Taehyung, they hadn’t actually made him touch them; they’d seemed to derive their pleasure just from making him fall apart. This would be the first time he’d actually have his hands (let alone his mouth) on someone else’s penis.   “So innocent,” Yoongi murmured. “Wide-eyed, naïve little Kookie. What’s the matter, baby?”   “Y… you’re m-my first, oppa,” Jungkook confessed, cheeks going even pinker, unable to tear his gaze away from Yoongi’s cock. Saliva flooded his mouth as he felt a strange desire to close his lips over it. “I, I’ve never…”   “I know you haven’t blown anyone before, sweetheart. It’s okay—“   “…I’ve never touched anyone’s… you know… before,” he said in a small voice, ducking his head shyly.   Yoongi went still.   “Are you tempting me right now, baby?” he rasped, cupping Jungkook’s face in his hands. The low tones made something jolt inside of him. Jungkook licked his lips anxiously, making Yoongi’s hold on him tighten. “You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?” He pushed a thumb into Jungkook’s mouth, feeling how his mouth was watering. Yoongi let out a soft groan. “So fucking precious. Want to stop, Kookie? Just say the word.”   He keened, sucking on the salt of Yoongi’s skin. “N… no… I won’t say it, oppa…”   “Then oppa’s going to be your first cock, baby girl,” Yoongi murmured. “And you’re going to love it.”   Jungkook nodded mindlessly, whimpering at how the command issued easily from Yoongi’s lips as he sucked the heavy thumb further into his mouth. Yoongi huffed out a laugh before withdrawing the wet digit, dripping with Jungkook’s spit. He stroked it across Jungkook’s cheek, smearing it on his face. “Go on, princess. Suck oppa off.”   He had a vague idea of how it was supposed to go; he wasa red-blooded teenager, after all, and he’d watched more than his fair share of porn. He found himself blushing as he slowly bent down to take it in his mouth, making sure to cover his teeth.   Jungkook kitten-licked hesitantly at the tip before wrapping his lips around it, sucking gently. It was hot in his mouth, so strange, tasting of clean skin and musk, salty and a little bit bitter, spurting out wetness onto his tongue.   “You’re so cute,” Yoongi murmured, brushing his knuckles against Jungkook’s cheek. Jungkook whined, making Yoongi let out a low groan as the vibrations hit his member; it was only through a supreme effort of will that he kept his hips from stuttering, always careful of Jungkook. “You’re doing so well, princess, making your oppa feel so good.”   The praise shot straight to Jungkook’s cock and he squirmed, hole clenching as he trembled. He moaned as Yoongi continued his stream of encouragement, tracing a finger over the bulge of his dick through Jungkook’s cheek. “Look at you, baby girl. Your mouth was just made to be fucked.”   His ears were ringing, the words coiling deep in his gut. He found himself taking a deep breath and opening up more, mind scrambled, trying to get Yoongi as deep into his mouth as he could. He felt his throat protest as he went further and tried to push through it, only to end up coughing and gasping for air, wheezing as his gag reflex kicked in.   “Go slowly, sweetheart,” Yoongi said, pulling out, as tears welled up in Jungkook’s eyes. “Don’t hurt yourself. It’s fine if you don’t do it perfectly the first time.”   But he wanted to be perfect, he thought hazily. He needed to be perfect for Yoongi. The thought that he had done something wrong, that he might have disappointed Yoongi, was so profoundly painful that he thought he would cry.   Namjoon raised an eyebrow as Jungkook took Yoongi back into his mouth without prompting. Jungkook opened wider, frustrated, trying to position his head so that his throat would line up with Yoongi’s cock. Tears rolled down his face but he couldn’t stop, whining helplessly as he struggled to take all of it. He could feel drool running down his chin, leaking down the sides of his lips, but he still went further, practically gagging for it.   Yoongi moaned as he slid deeper into Jungkook’s mouth. It wasn’t the best blowjob he’d gotten by far; Jungkook slipped every now and then, his teeth grazing painfully against his dick, and he could barely take half of Yoongi’s length. But the fact that it was Jungkook, trying so hard for him, his poor cock twitching pathetically as he forced himself to take more of Yoongi… it was the hottest thing Yoongi had ever seen in his life. “Kookie—“   Yoongi sounded so beautifully wrecked. Jungkook ‘s hand gripped Yoongi’s leg tightly as he pushed himself further, loosened just that little bit more, sucking him harder as he fell deeper into his headspace.  Arousal burned deep in him as he listened to Yoongi panting above him. He was doing that. He was making feel Yoongi that way. His cock throbbed between his legs and he grabbed it and started stroking himself, unable to stop, muffled, needy sobs spilling from his lips.   “Fuck, baby girl,” Yoongi hissed, self-control shattering, thrusting into his sloppy mouth. Jungkook sputtered, choking, but he opened up willingly, whimpering as his tongue swirled along Yoongi’s cock. “You’re getting off just by giving me a blowjob, can’t even keep your hands off yourself. Never met anyone who loved sucking cock so much. You take it like you were born for this.”   Jungkook looked up at Yoongi with wet eyes, red lips stretched around as much of Yoongi’s dick as he could take. Yoongi groaned and pulled out, swearing quietly.   “O-oppa…” He already missed the weight of Yoongi’s cock on his tongue. He let out a pained mewl as he nuzzled at Yoongi’s crotch, trying to get him to let him suck it again, even though his cheeks ached from his earlier efforts. “D- did I do it wrong? I, I can do better—please—“   “No, baby girl. You were perfect. So perfect for oppa. Close your eyes and keep your mouth open, princess,” Yoongi instructed, wrapping a hand around his member as Jungkook complied. With a few strokes he was coming, his seed shooting out in thick white streaks all over Jungkook’s face, onto his waiting tongue.  Jungkook moaned at the feeling of the wet heat on his skin, his cock twitching. He felt like he could almost come himself, just from the fact that Yoongi was covering him in his release.   Jungkook slowly blinked his eyes open, uncertain what to do next.   “Don’t swallow just yet, sweetheart.” Yoongi studied him for a long moment. “Shit, I want to take a photo of this,” he muttered. Jungkook was a gorgeous sight, teary, his mouth still hanging open and showing the come pooled on his tongue, his hard cock straining in his panties, peeking out from where his skirt had gotten rucked up around his thighs.   “Can I, baby girl? Can your oppa keep a picture of you with his come all over your sweet face? Oppa wants to remember this moment forever, wants to keep a photo of his messy, pretty princess.” He trailed a gentle hand down Jungkook’s cheek, smearing the come on his skin. Jungkook barely registered the fact that he was nodding, just wanting Yoongi to keep touching him.   Yoongi had always liked photography. He was more into taking pictures of landscapes and random objects, but he had accumulated a sizable collection of photos of Jimin and Jungkook over the years. He tried not to think of the image he made now, placed alongside the photos Yoongi had taken before.   He remembered one summer day when the three of them had gone out for ice cream and Jimin had instigated a food fight. He and Yoongi had teamed up against Jungkook, getting the younger boy screaming with laughter as they had smeared vanilla ice cream all over his face. Yoongi had taken a photo of the two brothers, Jungkook giggling with sticky white streaks all over him, even on his face and in his hair, Jimin grinning brightly beside him. All three of them had declared it one of their favorite pictures ever.   He wondered if he’d ever be that happy again.   He whimpered hazily as the shutter went off. That photo was too much like this one, only so much less innocent. The comparison made a shudder wrack through his body, the shame hitting him like a punch to the gut. Suddenly he wanted to take it back, wanted to beg Yoongi to get rid of the picture.   But at the same time, something in him simmered hot at the thought of Yoongi taking his photo like this, dirty and debauched and all Yoongi’s.   More tears slid down his face, mixing with the come. Yoongi sighed in satisfaction at the sight, taking more shots. Jungkook was too beautiful when he cried. It had always torn at his heart when Jungkook would cry, but at the same time he’d always thought that it made him so, so pretty. His innocent, teary little angel.   “Do you want to show your daddy how cute you look, princess?” Yoongi murmured. Jungkook flushed. He’d almost forgotten that Namjoon was there, he’d been so quiet the whole time. He risked a glance at the corner where Namjoon was waiting and nearly choked at the predatory expression on Namjoon’s face.   “Beautiful,” Namjoon murmured from his seat as he pocketed his phone, breaking the silence he had kept for too long. “That’s enough, darling girl. I know you want to keep your oppa’s come on your tongue forever, but we can always fill your greedy mouth again another time. Drink it down now.” Jungkook slowly closed his mouth and complied, swallowing. “Don’t forget to thank your oppa, sweetheart.”   Jungkook’s voice was thick, throat still raw. “Th… thank you, oppa,” he whispered.   Yoongi bent to kiss him, heedless of the mess all over him. “Come on, angel,” he murmured, nipping at Jungkook’s lip. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and then oppa will reward you for being such a good girl.” Chapter End Notes As far as I'm concerned, Yoongi's oppa kink is completely canon (you guys probably know which infamous fan exchange I'm talking about). More Yoonkook incoming in the next chapter! But aside from having an exceedingly busy schedule for the coming months, I do have other writing projects languishing that I've been hoping to work on. I thank you guys in advance for your patience and understanding! End Notes *looks sadly at computer screen* So. I'm going to hell. How did I go from 'this is my first time writing smut' to this? Look at my life, look at my choices. Interactions with the other members will roll in as the story updates. Tags will be added as they show up. Constructive feedback appreciated because I'm basically flailing around with nothing but the barest idea of how this is going to turn out, and would really appreciate people to discuss this with. Update: I set up a Twitter account for this AO3! It's @august_darling, come slide into my DMs if you want to talk! Update: Buy me a drink? ;) https://ko-fi.com/augustdarling Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!