Work Text:
The gym smelled like sweat, testosterone, and the faintest hint of banana.
Jungkook blamed the protein shake. It was his third this week—banana-flavored, thick, and questionably natural—but he liked it. It was nostalgic. Comforting. Reminded him of childhood and sin.
Unfortunately, it also reminded his glands to start producing slick like they were prepping for a fruit-themed bake-off.
He adjusted his compression shorts and glanced at the mirror, catching a glimpse of himself mid-squat. Not bad. Ass: tight. Back: straight. Core: quivering from mild dehydration and lust.
Lust which was entirely, stupidly, and irreparably aimed at the hottie across the gym.
Namjoon.
Tall. Broad. Quiet. Unreasonably veiny forearms. A tight black tank top that clung like a second skin. He was currently bench-pressing something that looked like it could kill a man, and Jungkook wanted to die.
Well, more accurately, he wanted Namjoon to bend him in half like a protein bar wrapper and then die.
Not that he was going to say anything. He was a respectable university student with a secret online slick-selling business, not some thirst-crazed omega with no shame.
…Okay maybe a little shame. His bank account had forty-three dollars in it and his top buyer on O!BoyNet—username “AlphaRM69” (which, like, really?)—had just ordered another five bottles of “Golden Banana Drip.”
Jungkook had printed the label himself. It featured a peeled banana with devil horns and glitter. He was proud. Maybe even brilliant. His heat-slick tasted like bananas, and if the world wasn’t going to pay for his art degree, they could at least pay for his discharge.
“Focus,” he hissed at his reflection. “We’re here to train. Not slick yourself into a coma.”
His reflection didn’t listen. Neither did his glands. A warm drip slid between his thighs as he bent over to grab a dumbbell.
“Oh my god,” whispered someone behind him.
Jungkook froze. Was it visible?! Was he dripping in public?! He turned his head sharply and met eyes with Jimin, his best friend, fellow omega, and #1 chaos cheerleader.
Jimin was holding his phone and filming.
“Delete that,” Jungkook hissed.
“No. Your ass looks phenomenal.” Jimin zoomed in. “Also, you’re leaking.”
“Delete it or I’m putting chili oil in your lube again.”
Jimin pouted and tapped his screen, but Jungkook had trust issues.
Namjoon hadn’t noticed… right?
Wrong.
Jungkook’s eyes darted up just in time to see Namjoon standing, wiping sweat off his neck with a towel. Their eyes met across the floor. Jungkook’s breath caught.
Namjoon raised an eyebrow. Just barely. But it sent Jungkook into cardiac arrest.
Did he know?
No. No way. There were dozens of omegas in this gym. Hundreds of protein shake flavors. Thousands of ways to embarrass oneself. Jungkook would not be perceived. He would be stealth. Graceful. A sexy shadow.
Then he dropped the dumbbell.
It landed on his toe.
He screamed.
Namjoon blinked.
Jimin wheezed.
“I hate it here,” Jungkook muttered as Hoseok jogged over with a first-aid kit and a bottle of antibacterial spray that smelled suspiciously like bananas.
Jungkook liked to think of himself as an entrepreneur.
A visionary. An innovator.
A respected seller of artisanal, heat-produced omega slick with flavor undertones.
Sure, maybe his mom thought he was “just a business major” and his advisor hadn’t seen him in three semesters, but Jungkook was building a brand. A sensual empire. One horny alpha at a time. If Syndey Sweeney can sell her bath water, why can’t he sell his fruity juice? He’s just as hot as her! Just without the blonde and maybe less boobs—
Anyways.
His storefront on O!BoyNet—a discreet, or in other words, ‘shady’ site for scent chasers and hormone enthusiasts—was named @FruitfulOmega. The bio read:
🍌 ethically sourced
🍌 no additives (except banana milk)
🍌 dm for custom drips 💦
He’d spent three hours designing his logo. It was a cartoon banana, winking, wearing fishnets.
Sales were booming.
He had twenty-seven regular customers. Five with monthly subscriptions. One man with the username @AlphaRM69 who bought in bulk like he was stocking up for the omega apocalypse.
Jungkook didn’t ask questions.
He wore gloves. He used sterile jars. He made playlists to help him “collect.” Professional to the tee…And, okay, maybe he did wonder what the guy looked like. Just a little.
His profile had no picture. No name. No info. Just a location tag that said “City Center” and a bio that read:
Prefer organic. Will pay extra for fresh. Love the taste of sunshine.
Which like… who the fuck describes banana slick as sunshine???
Jungkook bit his lip as he refreshed his sales page.
New message from: @AlphaRM69
“Received the last batch. Scent was stronger this time. Very sweet. Did you change something?”
Jungkook typed back fast:
Same formula as always. Maybe I was just thinking about something… nice ;)
Then immediately wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
What was he doing. Sexting a client? Was this unprofessional? Illegal? Horny?
Yes to all of the above.
@AlphaRM69 responded two seconds later.
“Keep thinking like that. You’ve got a good signature.”
Jungkook made a sound. Like, a noise.It may have been a squeal. Not very pleasant. It may have alarmed his neighbors.
He tossed his phone onto the bed and launched himself backward, landing flat on his stomach in a puddle of freshly washed laundry that now smelled like desperation and banana slick residue.
He hated himself. He needed money.
And also to be railed into next Tuesday.
And possibly a tax consultant.
His phone buzzed again.
[Transfer Received: ₩300,000 from @AlphaRM69]
*Note: for priority delivery. And maybe a taste in person one day ;) *
Jungkook screamed into a pillow so hard his throat cramped.
Was that a threat? A promise?? Was he gonna get murdered or mated???
Whatever. He’d ship it out tomorrow. Maybe add an extra sticker. A personal touch.
Nothing too suggestive.
Just a handwritten note that said: “Stay juicy.”
📱 [Group Chat: PACK CHAT 💀💬]
Jimin:
[photo attachment]
tell me why jungkook’s yoga mat got the SHINE OF DEATH
Taehyung:
that’s not sweat
that’s banana juice
Hoseok:
i stepped in it
with socks on
this is war
Jin:
this group chat smells like regret
also jungkook u good babe?? need a mop??
Jungkook:
I HATE ALL OF YOU
DO NOT TALK TO ME
I AM BLOCKING EVERYONE
Yoongi:
you leaking again?
Jungkook:
I AM NOT LEAKING
IT WAS HOT
AND THE SHAKE SPILLED
AND MY GLANDS ARE OVERACTIVE BECAUSE OF STRESS AND—
WHY AM I EXPLAINING THIS
Jimin:
because ur guilty 🧍🏻
Hoseok:
[voice note: 0:14]
“mmm banana boy needs a wipe down 😏”
Jin:
can someone please tell me why he smells like a damn smoothie
Yoongi:
oh my god
WAIT
is this why you started ordering bananas by the crate??
you said it was for “nutrition”
Taehyung:
nutrition = nut rations confirmed
Jungkook:
ok. blocked.
all of you.
Jimin:
be honest
u want that alpha to slip on your slick and land inside you don’t u
Jungkook:
GOODNIGHT.
[Jungkook has changed the group name to: “STOP BULLYING ME”]
[Yoongi has changed it back to: “PACK CHAT 💀💬”]
Jungkook was fine.
He was.
Totally fine.
His glands were just… experimenting with new distribution methods. That was all. Perfectly normal. Completely ignorable and no cause for alarm.
Except for the fact that his shorts were clinging in places they absolutely shouldn’t be, and the scent of ripe banana was radiating off him like he was a fucking human smoothie bar.
“Jungkook,” Hoseok said slowly, “is your towel… dripping?”
Jungkook blinked at the towel looped around his neck. Sure enough, the ends were glistening. Not with sweat. With something more viscous. More… omega-y.
He made a strangled noise and yanked it off, balling it up like it had personally betrayed him. “It’s humidity,” he said. “The fabric is moisture-wicking. That’s just how it looks when it’s… wicking. Science.”
“Right.” Hoseok took a full step back. “Well, science is making the whole gym smell like an alpha’s wet dream right now.”
Jungkook whirled around and hissed. “Keep your voice down!”
“Babe, an alpha two blocks over is probably on his way with a knot and a prayer.”
“Then help me,” Jungkook whined. “You’re a beta. Betas are neutral. Do something beta-y. Smudge my scent with a dryer sheet or..fuck…I don’t know, tackle me into a locker.”
“I’m not risking my clean track record for your banana lube crisis.”
“It’s not lube! It’s—oh fuck—”
Jungkook bent forward too fast. A drip hit the mat.
He looked down in horror. The mat looked back with betrayal.
There, between his feet, was a glistening drop of golden, shimmery slick. It looked like highlighter had wept onto the floor.
Jimin, walking past with his water bottle, stopped short.
“Is that—”
“NO.”
Jimin crouched. Sniffed. Gasped.
“Banana?!”
“NO ONE SNIFFS ANYTHING,” Jungkook shrieked, grabbing Jimin’s bottle and hurling it across the room to distract him.
It worked.
Except it hit a treadmill.
And bounced.
And rolled—
—right to the feet of Namjoon, who had just walked out of the locker room, still toweling off his damp hair like the cover model of Alpha Fitness Quarterly.
Time stopped.
Jungkook forgot language.
Namjoon leaned down, picked up the bottle, straightened—and looked directly at Jungkook.
And Jungkook? Jungkook just stood there, half-slicked, flushed to the ears, looking like a failed smoothie with legs.
Namjoon’s nostrils flared.
He sniffed.
Oh fuck.
He was sniffing.
His eyes dropped—slowly, lazily—to the mat. To the glistening mark Jungkook hadn’t wiped. To the single trail of golden evidence right between Jungkook’s thighs.
Their eyes met.
Jungkook tried to speak, but all that came out was a tiny, mortified “…hi.”
Namjoon tilted his head and then simply walked away.
No smirk. No comment. Just a silent, deadly saunter toward the weight rack like nothing had happened.
Jungkook dropped to the floor and rolled under the squat bench.
“I need to change my name,” he muttered. “I need to change countries—no, I need to change planets.”
Hoseok leaned down and handed him a paper towel.
“Make it quick,” he said. “You’re dripping again.”
🍌
Jungkook was pacing.
Not like a normal person. Not like someone going through, say, a midterm crisis or a minor hormone flare.
No.
He was pacing like an omega who had just slicked onto a commercial grade yoga mat in front of a potential mate and then had the audacity to check his DMs and find this:
@AlphaRM69:
“You were at the gym earlier today. Squat rack, right?”
Jungkook screamed into his hoodie sleeve.
How.
How did he know.
There was no profile picture. No real name. No GPS tracking, he was sure of it. He’d checked his O!BoyNet security settings twice after that guy tried to trade him a PS5 for a bottle of slick.
But this? This was too close.
Jungkook threw himself onto his bed and stared at the screen like it might bite.
The next message came a second later:
“You smelled… familiar. Sunshine, like always.”
His soul left his body.
There was no possible way. It couldn’t be. But what if.
What if his number one buyer was…
Namjoon.
Big. Quiet. Beautiful. And now apparently buying Jungkook’s bottled bodily fluids like they were high end essential oils.
Jungkook curled into a ball of shame and horniness.
He could ignore it. Just log off. Block him. Delete his account. Move to the mountains. Sell jam.
Instead, he messaged back:
“lol what r u talking about. i was in class all day.”
Then he slapped his phone down on the desk and whined.
“You are a disgrace,” he told himself. “A hormonal mess with overactive glands andno self-control.”
His body did not appreciaet the criticism. It rewarded him with another warm, banana-scented drip down his thigh.
“Oh come on!”
He yanked open his dresser drawer and grabbed a box labeled “EMERGENCY SLICK PADS.” (They were floral printed. He hated himself.)
Slapping one into his underwear, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and froze.
His cheeks were flushed. His hair was messy. He looked… slick-crazed.
But underneath that was something worse: recognition.
Because deep down, Jungkook knew why this kept happening.
It wasn’t just the banana milk. Or the protein shakes. Or the stress.
It was him.
His body was fixated. Not just on Namjoon’s scent—but something specific about it. Like his glands knew something his brain didn’t.
This wasn’t just pre-heat. This was the start of something deeper, rawer.
Imprinting.
Or at least a very embarrassing one-sided pre-bond that would get him laughed out of every omega support group for life.
He collapsed back into bed just as his phone buzzed again.
@AlphaRM69:
“I’d recognize your scent anywhere. Sweet. Addictive. The kind that sticks.”
Jungkook rolled over and screamed into a pillow. Again.
🍌
Jungkook was a man with a plan.
Step 1: Wear tighter shorts.
Step 2: Linger in front of the mirror like a thot with purpose.
Step 3: Casually offer Namjoon a banana protein shake and hope the man caught the innuendo.
It was a foolproof strategy.
Unfortunately, Jungkook had never in his life been smooth. What he was, as Jimin once lovingly told him, was “a horny golden retriever with delusions of hotness and a leak problem.”
So yeah.
It was going about as well as expected.
He stood by the gym vending machine, doing bicep curls with a water bottle while casually, just casually, glancing at Namjoon who was wiping down a bench.
Namjoon, for his part, looked like a Greek statue sculpted by someone with an arm vein kink. His tank top was practically clinging to his chest. His neck glistened. His jaw flexed. And he hadn’t looked at Jungkook once.
“Cool, cool, yeah,” Jungkook whispered to himself. “No big deal. He’s just an emotionally unavailable alpha who might be my anonymous slick daddy. Everything’s fine.”
He cracked open a banana shake. Took a slow, sultry sip.
And choked. Not attractively.
Not in a “come knot me” kind of way.
In a “wheezing like a dying bird in mating season” kind of way.
Hoseok appeared out of nowhere like a damn spirit guide. “You good?”
“Never better,” Jungkook croaked.
He turned to Namjoon and, with all the confidence of a man absolutely not soaking through his backup slick pad, strutted over.
Namjoon was stretching now. On the floor. One leg straight, the other bent, forehead resting on his knee like flexibility was a casual habit and not a divine miracle.
“Hey,” Jungkook said, voice cracking only a little. “I, uh… got an extra shake. Want one?”
Namjoon looked up. Finally. His eyes scanned Jungkook’s face, then dropped briefly to the shake, then lower—like dangerously lower—before returning to his eyes.
“…Banana?” he asked.
Jungkook’s brain blanked.
Words? Gone.
Motor function? Optional.
He nodded. Maybe a little too hard.
Namjoon took it. Their fingers brushed. Jungkook hoped he didn’t squeal, because he might’ve.
“Thanks,” Namjoon said. No smile. No expression. Just smooth, low-voiced indifference.
Jungkook blinked. “Do you… like banana?”
Silence.
Namjoon sipped. Licked a drop from his lip.
“I do now.”
Jungkook blacked out for a second.
He wasn’t sure what happened after that. Something about lying on a foam roller for thirty minutes pretending he was stretching while internally screaming.
Namjoon didn’t speak to him again.
But when Jungkook got home, there was a new message from @AlphaRM69:
“I liked today’s blend. You always get slicker when you’re turned on, don’t you?”
He stared at the screen, throat dry, pants damp.
“I can tell when you’re thinking about me.”
[Group Chat: PACK CHAT 💀💬]
Jimin:
soooooo
u gave him the shake 😏
Jungkook:
he didn’t even FLINCH
i was standing there. leaking. glowing. radiating pheromones.
he said “thanks” like i handed him a parking receipt
Hoseok:
u were vibrating like a dying phone
i watched it happen
Taehyung:
wait wait
are we SURE he’s not just super into bananas
like what if he’s not an alpha at all
just… potassium positive
Yoongi:
bananas aren’t even high in potassium
it’s a myth
also this convo is a war crime
Jin:
as the eldest omega here, I’d like to say
Jungkook
ur slick is getting stronger
i smelled it from the locker room
Jungkook:
can we not talk about my bodily fluids in a public chat
respect my boundaries pls
Taehyung:
genuine question
is it flammable
like if you light a candle
will the air combust
Hoseok:
i actually googled it
technically if ur slick has enough sugar content…
Jimin:
OKAY moving on
kook. baby. sunshine.
have you considered
just sitting on his lap
Jungkook:
WHAT??? NO????
Jin:
worth a shot
Yoongi:
just leave the gym in heat
he’ll follow
alphas are dumb that way
Jungkook:
y’all want me to DIE
Taehyung:
yes
but make it slutty
Jimin:
in your defense…
he DID lick his lips after drinking that shake
Jungkook:
GUYS.
[Jungkook has changed the group name to: “BLOCKED AND CANCELED”]
[Hoseok changed it back to: “PACK CHAT 💀💬”]
[Jin added: “banana emoji” 🍌 to the chat description]
🍌
Jungkook woke up in a puddle.
Of his own slick.
It soaked through his boxers, stained his sheets, and—oh god—there was a banana sticker stuck to his thigh. From his own packaging.
He peeled it off like it was a war wound.
“Okay,” he panted, rolling onto his stomach. “So. I’m in heat.”
He’d been denying it for a week. Chalked the leaking up to stress. The random bursts of arousal to gym thirst. The dreams? Just regular feral omega brain rot.
But now? His whole body was buzzing. Skin fever-hot, thighs sticky, scent so thick the air in his room felt syrupy.
He needed to calm down.
He needed a cold shower, a suppressant, a tranquilizer—anything.
He staggered to the bathroom and immediately slipped.
Caught himself on the sink.
Looked in the mirror.
Regretted it instantly.
His pupils were blown. His lips were swollen from biting them in his sleep. His neck was flushed, glistening, like his own glands were mocking him.
And the worst part?
He couldn’t stop thinking about Namjoon.
That deep voice. Those eyes. The way he sipped that banana shake like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t just licked Jungkook’s soul off the rim.
Jungkook whimpered.
He shuffled to his phone with trembling fingers. Maybe a suppressant. Maybe a—
1 New Message: @AlphaRM69
He stopped breathing.
He opened it.
“You in heat yet?”
Jungkook made a noise that sounded like a dying microwave.
“…maybe”
“Need help?”
His breath caught. His hands were shaking. His body ached.
“Can’t. Don’t know who you are.”
“You do. You just don’t want to admit it.”
Jungkook’s vision blurred.
Another message pinged in.
“Check your door.”
He froze.
He whipped around, heart pounding, and stared at the front door.
Silence.
Then—knock knock.
He screamed into his palm.
NO.
No way.
This couldn’t be real. It had to be a prank. Or a hallucination. Or a—
Another knock.
Lower. Firmer. Confident.
He padded to the door like a feral animal in a too-big hoodie and opened it a crack.
And there he was.
Namjoon.
Real. Massive. Calm.
Wearing a black hoodie, gym bag slung over one shoulder, and the faintest flicker of scent control patches on his wrists.
“Oh my god,” Jungkook whispered. “It’s you.”
Namjoon’s eyes raked down his body—sweatpants, no shirt, flushed skin, faint banana scent curling in the air like a heatwave.
“You didn’t answer the last time I knocked,” Namjoon said simply.
Jungkook blinked. “Last time?”
Namjoon smirked, just a little.
“I waited until you were slicking your sheets before trying again.”
Jungkook squeaked.
“You—you can’t just—what are you doing here???”
Namjoon tilted his head. “You sold me ten bottles of your slick. I figured it was time I tasted it from the source.”
Jungkook’s knees buckled.
The door wasn’t even fully shut before Jungkook was pinned against it.
One hand beside his head. The other on his waist. Namjoon’s scent—clean, sharp, and maddeningly alpha—hit him like a freight train.
His legs wobbled.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Jungkook whispered. His voice cracked halfway through the sentence and came out more like a whimper.
Namjoon just looked at him.
Slow. Unbothered. Smug in the way only a man who knew he was wanted could be.
“But I am,” he said simply. “And you opened the door.”
“I thought you were a package!”
Namjoon leaned in. Close enough for his breath to tickle Jungkook’s cheek.
“I am.”
Jungkook’s brain blue-screened.
And then Namjoon kissed him.
It wasn’t gentle.
It wasn’t slow.
It was everything Jungkook had been fantasizing about for weeks—no, months—pressed into one feral, breathless collision of teeth, tongue, and slick-flavored desperation.
Jungkook gasped as Namjoon grabbed his thighs and lifted him effortlessly, pressing him against the door like he weighed nothing. His hoodie rode up. His slick-soaked boxers clung.
Namjoon growled against his mouth.
“You’re leaking through the fabric,” he murmured, voice low and almost annoyed. “Didn’t even pad up properly?”
Jungkook could barely breathe. “I—I didn’t know you were gonna show up!”
“You were dripping before I got here.”
Jungkook whined. “It’s not my fault! My body’s stupid and broken and—”
Namjoon bit his bottom lip.
“You’re not broken,” he said firmly. “You’re just mine.”
Jungkook made a noise he couldn’t identify. Somewhere between a gasp and a sob and a sound only whales make during mating season.
“I knew it was you,” Namjoon continued, dragging his mouth down Jungkook’s jaw. “Your scent’s all I’ve thought about since the first bottle. Sweet. Addictive. Sunshine, right?”
Jungkook nodded frantically. “Sunshine, yeah. That’s me. I’m very—bright. And slippery. I hate myself.”
Namjoon chuckled. The sound was dark and gorgeous and so unfair.
He walked them toward the bed and dropped Jungkook onto it, watching him bounce and sprawl, a mess of hoodie and thighs and needy omega scent.
Namjoon tugged off his hoodie, and Jungkook actually gasped.
The man was sculpted. Tan. Veins for days. His scent thickened, pushing against Jungkook’s already foggy brain like a pressure wave.
“Take it off,” Namjoon said, pointing at the hoodie.
Jungkook struggled. “I’m slicking. It’s gonna—stick.”
Namjoon just smirked. “Then let me help.”
He crawled up the bed, gripped the hem of Jungkook’s hoodie, and peeled it off slowly—like unwrapping a very horny present.
The fabric stuck. Peeled. Squelched.
Namjoon didn’t flinch.
Instead, he leaned down, dragged his nose up Jungkook’s neck, and moaned.
“You smell like heat,” he growled. “And banana.”
“I tried to stop drinking them—”
“Don’t.” Namjoon’s tongue dragged across the scent gland on Jungkook’s neck. “It’s yours. Your signature. I want to ruin my mouth with it.”
Jungkook forgot how to live.
Then Namjoon moved lower.
Namjoon settled between Jungkook’s thighs like he belonged there.
Which, in hindsight, he did—seeing as he’d basically been worshipping Jungkook’s slick from a distance for months. Now? He had front-row access.
Jungkook squirmed, hips rocking, thighs twitching as Namjoon peeled his boxers down slow—slick pulling in sticky strings across his skin.
“Shit,” Namjoon muttered, breath hot on Jungkook’s inner thigh. “You’re soaked.”
Jungkook nodded wildly, breath shallow. “I know. I’m broken. I leak like a—”
“—fucking fountain,” Namjoon said, voice like thunder. “Perfect. Messy. Just like I wanted.”
Then he licked.
From the base of Jungkook’s hole up to his flushed cockhead. One long, slow drag of tongue that made Jungkook scream and grab the sheets.
Namjoon groaned. “You really do taste like banana.”
“I told you!” Jungkook panted. “Everyone thought I was lying—oh fuck—!”
Namjoon tongued his hole again. Firmer. Wet and filthy, slick coating his chin, his jaw, his mouth like nectar. He rimmed him open with deliberate, teasing strokes—soft at first, then deep, hot, tongue fucking him until Jungkook was arching off the bed, begging.
“Alpha—please—”
Namjoon growled at that.
“Say it again.”
“Alpha, please—I need it—I need you—”
He pulled back only to spit on Jungkook’s hole, then shoved two fingers in without warning. Jungkook’s back arched, mouth open in a silent scream.
“You’re clenching,” Namjoon muttered, pushing deeper. “Like you’ve been waiting for this. All that slick—wasted. Should’ve been dripping down my knot from the start.”
Jungkook keened.
Namjoon leaned up, kissed him hard, fingers still pumping.
“I’m gonna fuck you now,” he said, like it was the weather report.
“Please,” Jungkook moaned. “Claim me. Knot me. Just do something—”
Namjoon’s pants came off fast.
And fuck.
Jungkook blinked at the size of him.
“Is that legal?” he whispered.
Namjoon laughed. “You’ve sold me five jars of slick and now you’re shy?”
Then he lined up and pressed in.
Slick helped…too well, actually. Namjoon slid halfway in on the first thrust, forcing Jungkook to gasp and dig nails into his back.
“You can take it,” Namjoon growled. “All that leaking…your body wants this.”
“I do, I just….fuck, fuck—”
Namjoon kissed his temple, then thrust in fully.
Jungkook shattered.
It was deep—so deep—and wide and stretching him in the best way, making every nerve ending light up. His body clenched and squeezed around the alpha inside him, and his brain just… stopped working.
“Fuck,” Namjoon hissed. “You’re gripping me. Like you want the knot now.”
“I DO,” Jungkook cried. “Put it in. Breed me—”
Namjoon snapped his hips, again and again, until slick squelched between them with every thrust. Until Jungkook was wailing, writhing, cock leaking untouched between them.
Namjoon wrapped a hand around it, stroked in time with his thrusts.
“I’m gonna claim you,” he growled. “Right here. Right now.”
“Do it—”
He bit down.
Right on Jungkook’s neck. Hard. Sharp. Deep.
The claim hit like a lightning strike.
Jungkook came instantly, untouched, gasping as his orgasm ripped through him, shaking, sobbing with how hard it hit. His cock spurted between them, slicked up both their chests.
And Namjoon?
Namjoon rutted in once, twice—then knotted.
Jungkook screamed.
The stretch was insane, the pressure intense, and Namjoon’s knot popped in and locked them together as he came, deep and hot, flooding Jungkook full.
Warmth spread through him. Thick, claiming. Alpha scent all around him.
And in that moment, Jungkook didn’t care about banana milk or group chats or how embarrassing he was—
He was claimed.
And he’d never been so fucking happy in his life.
Jungkook came down from his orgasm like he’d fallen from the stratosphere.
The room was hot. His sheets were ruined. His thighs were trembling, and his entire lower half felt like it had been branded from the inside out. A knot—Namjoon’s knot—was still pulsing inside him, keeping them locked together in the filthiest, most indecent way imaginable.
Namjoon was still buried deep, his teeth now gently resting against the fresh, swollen mark on Jungkook’s neck. The bite throbbed in time with his pulse.
“Fuck,” Jungkook whispered. “That was…”
Namjoon pulled back just enough to see his face.
“Good?” he asked, voice hoarse.
“I think I saw god,” Jungkook said, dazed. “But he was shaped like your cock.”
Namjoon laughed. A low, gruff, unbelievably smug sound.
“You’re still squeezing me,” he murmured. “Your body wants more.”
Jungkook blinked. “I—no. No way. I just came so hard I forgot the alphabet. There’s nothing left in me.”
Namjoon rolled his hips.
Jungkook screamed.
“You were saying?” Namjoon asked innocently.
“I—okay. Okay I might have a little left in me.”
Namjoon licked his claim mark. “That’s what I thought.”
Then he moved.
Just a slow, deliberate grind. The base of his knot stretched Jungkook wide again, still locked in tight, but with just enough give to rock into the soft, overstimulated flesh inside.
Jungkook’s body jolted. His toes curled.
“Oh my god—”
“You’re still slicking,” Namjoon said. “So fucking needy.”
“I’m not needy—you’re needy! You showed up at my house!”
“And now I’m inside you.”
“KNOTTED inside me. Get it right”
Namjoon thrust again, deeper this time. His cock dragged over Jungkook’s sensitive spot, and Jungkook bucked beneath him with a sob.
“I can feel everything,” Namjoon murmured. “You’re still open for me. Still begging.”
“I’m not—”
Namjoon kissed him silent.
And fucked him through the bond.
It was slower now—grinding, rolling thrusts with the knot stretching his rim every time, locked in place and milking every sound out of Jungkook’s mouth. Slick dripped between their bodies, pooling under Jungkook’s lower back, everywhere.
Jungkook couldn’t stop shaking.
Namjoon’s hand wrapped around his cock again. It twitched instantly—already hard again. His whole body had gone heat-drunk, greedy, overwhelmed.
“Alpha,” he whispered.
“Say it louder.”
“Alpha. Please. Fill me again—”
Namjoon’s teeth grazed his jaw. “I already did.”
“I don’t care. Do it again.”
Namjoon snapped his hips forward. Knot hit deep.
Jungkook shattered again. Came in a hot, frantic spill against both their stomachs. His body clenched around Namjoon’s knot so hard the alpha cursed, loud and unfiltered.
Then Namjoon came too.
With a growl, his knot swelled again—hot pulses of cum shooting so deep that Jungkook moaned from the heat of it, his whole body trembling with overstimulation, mouth slack, eyes glassy.
Namjoon didn’t stop grinding until they were both soaked, panting, and too sensitive to speak.
They collapsed together.
Sticky. Knotted. Marked.
Jungkook blinked at the ceiling and muttered, “I’m gonna need, like… six towels. And an exorcism.”
Namjoon kissed the top of his head.
“Worth it.”
[Group Chat: PACK CHAT 💀💬]
Jimin:
🕰️ update??
is he there??
has the slick exchange been made??
did the banana get peeled???
Taehyung:
my money’s on knot by 10pm
Yoongi:
he hasn’t responded in 40 minutes
either he’s dead or dicked
and honestly? win-win
Jimin:
Told you guys it would be a good idea to send Joon to deliver cock
Aren’t i always right?
Hoseok:
why are we not getting live updates
Jimin:
Don’t ignore me! I need my praises.
Hoseok:
i gave that man my best pheromone-setting spray and a fresh sheet recommendation
I want updates
Jin:
i laid out the lube like a wedding gift
if he doesn’t use it i’m keeping the claim cake
Taehyung:
guys
what if he’s reading this right now
like
while inside
Jimin:
even better:
what if NAMJOON is reading this
while inside
Jungkook:
i hate you all
i trusted you
YOU SET ME UP
Namjoon:
you were slicking through your hoodie, babe
you set yourself up
Jungkook:
HYUNG STOP
WHO ADDED NAMJOON TO THE GROUP CHAT
THIS IS MY SHAME THREAD
Jimin:
YOUR shame thread??
who was it that said “breed me like your morning shake daddy”???
Yoongi:
wait.
waitwaitwait.
did he say that out loud or did you message it to him
Namjoon:
he said it. out loud.
while clenching around my knot.
Jungkook:
I’M CALLING THE POLICE
Jin:
the knotlice???
Hoseok:
dies
Taehyung:
be honest
was it banana scented all the way through
Namjoon:
top note: banana
mid note: desperation
base note: ruined omega
Jungkook:
GOODBYE
DELETING THE GROUP CHAT
DELETING MY LIFE
[Jungkook changed the group name to “STOP @NAMJOON FROM TALKING”]
[Taehyung changed it back to: “PACK CHAT 💀💬”]
[Jimin added 🍌🍌🍌 to the chat name]
[Namjoon reacted “❤️” to every message]
[Private Text Thread: Jungkook 🐰 → Jimin 🧈]
Jungkook:
Jimin.
Why is Namjoon in the group chat.
Jimin:
lol what do u mean
Jungkook:
WHAT DO I MEAN???
HE’S IN THE CHAT
READING THE MESSAGES
REACTING WITH EMOJIS
YOU GUYS ARE JUST TALKING TO HIM LIKE HE’S BEEN HERE THIS WHOLE TIME
Jimin:
i mean
he has technically been here the whole time
just not like
formally
Jungkook:
WHAT DOES THAT MEAN
WHO HAD HIS NUMBER
WHY DOES HE HAVE YOUR CONTACT SAVED AS “Mochi Menace”???
Jimin:
yoongi gave him my number
tae gave him hoseok’s
jin added him to the chat two days ago “just in case”
we’ve all been texting
we’re v close now
You’re just the only one that hasn’t noticed because you’re you and you were a little delirious from your approaching heat
Jungkook:
CLOSE?
YOU MET HIM LAST WEEK IN PERSON FOR THE FIRST TIME??
AND YOU MEAN HE’S BEEN SEEING MY MENTAL BREAKDOWN?
YOU’RE ALL CHIPPING IN FOR MY THERAPY
Jimin:
First of all
To answer your first question
technically no
he said he once held the door for me at 7-11 and i said “thanks king”
he never forgot it
it was beautiful
And second of all
Yes he saw it all and found it endearing
Which was concerning
So make it couples therapy. I’ll pay double
Jungkook:
i am
LITERALLY
IN BED WITH HIM
Jimin:
yes and we’re very proud of u 🥺
He smelled your heat a mile away
it takes a village to get an omega bred these days
Jungkook:
you are NOT the village
Jimin:
i am the chief
I literally sent that man your way
He knotted you thanks to ME
You owe me dinner
Jungkook:
Stop talking about his knot
IT'S LITERALLY INSIDE ME RN
also why is tae calling him “jmoney” in the chat now
Jimin:
bc he sent a pic of his watch collection
and tae imprinted on his wrist
it’s a whole thing now
Jungkook:
i am going to pass away
Jimin:
as long as u pass the slick 😌💅
And the royalties
You’re welcome
Banana peeled hoe
[Jungkook has muted “PACK CHAT 💀💬” for 8 hours]
The knot had finally gone down.
Jungkook wasn’t sure how long they’d been lying there—sticky, tangled, and half-covered in a banana-milk-stained blanket—but time didn’t really exist in post-heat delirium. Only heat, hydration, and humiliation.
He turned his head slowly.
Namjoon was still awake. Bare chest rising and falling with calm, steady breaths. Eyes half-lidded. One arm slung around Jungkook’s waist like they were a couple in a K-Drama: Omega Edition.
Jungkook blinked at him.
“You’re very calm for someone who just committed what I think counts as an omegaverse crime.”
Namjoon smirked without opening his eyes. “You opened the door.”
“You knocked like a DoorDash order. I thought you were a post-heat smoothie.”
“You got one. Just… not the kind you drink.”
Jungkook groaned into the pillow.
There was a long pause.
Then:
“…So,” Jungkook said carefully. “You’ve been buying my slick.”
Namjoon nodded. “Big fan.”
“Since the beginning?”
“Since batch #3. The first two were… inconsistent.”
Jungkook gaped. “Are you reviewing me?? I didn’t know you were a slick conneusiour!”
Namjoon shrugged. “I’m just saying you hit your stride after switching to the BPA-free jars.”
Jungkook launched a pillow at his face.
Namjoon caught it mid-air. With one hand. Because of course he did.
“I still don’t get it,” Jungkook muttered, burying his face in the sheets. “How did you even find my page?”
Namjoon stretched, smirking. “A friend sent me a link. Called it ‘weirdly charming.’ I clicked. The label had a banana in fishnets. I was intrigued.”
“That’s your whole origin story?!”
“I’m a simple alpha,” Namjoon said, like this was normal.
They lay in silence for a while.
Jungkook chewed his lip. “So like… what happens now?”
Namjoon raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” Jungkook squirmed. “You knotted me. You bit me. There was slick. And bananas. And like. Emotional eye contact. Do we… date now? Or do I just invoice you?”
Namjoon laughed—actually laughed—and rolled over to cage Jungkook in with his arms.
“Do you want to date me?”
“I mean I already gave you my body and my scent and what’s left of my dignity. Might as well.”
Namjoon leaned in and kissed him.
Slow this time. Warm. Claim already settled, but lips still hungry for more.
“You’re not charging me anymore,” he murmured. “From now on, I get it straight from the source.”
Jungkook smiled sleepily. “Fine. But I’m keeping the fishnet banana logo.”
Namjoon grinned.
“I’d expect nothing less.”
One week later, Jungkook was sitting at the kitchen table in Namjoon’s absurdly sleek, unnecessarily massive apartment, squinting at a spreadsheet labeled:
Banana Boy Industries: Projected Slick Revenue 2025.
“I can’t believe this is real,” he muttered.
Namjoon set a smoothie down next to him.
Banana, of course.
“I’m serious,” Jungkook said. “This was supposed to be a lowkey side hustle. Like artisanal jam. But for people with… kinks.”
Namjoon sat beside him and kissed the bite mark on his neck like it was a daily ritual.
“And now it’s a premium subscription service with 24-hour heat access, customized labels, and bulk distribution logistics.”
Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “You’ve been waiting your whole life to become a slick tycoon, haven’t you?”
Namjoon smiled and opened his laptop. “Let’s just say… your product inspired me.”
📱 [Group Chat: PACK CHAT 💀💬]
Jin:
he’s branding the jars
WITH HIS OWN FACE
Yoongi:
can’t wait to pour that over my cereal
Jimin:
he’s shipping merch now
there’s a hoodie that says “Stay Juicy”
Taehyung:
i bought 3
Hoseok:
he sent me a free sample and it came with a playlist
Jungkook:
STOP LEAKING MY BRAND STRATEGY
Namjoon:
i also trademarked “Banana Creamed Omega™”
just in case
Jungkook:
what the FUCK
Jimin:
he’s gonna propose next isn’t he
Yoongi:
no proposal
just shows up with a collar and a contract
Jin:
i better be best man
i saw his hole before the alpha did
Hoseok:
we all saw it
he slicked on the leg press machine once
Taehyung:
a historic day
Jungkook:
I HATE YOU ALL
except Namjoon
he gets a pass
Namjoon:
❤️
[Jungkook has changed the group name to: “Banana Tycoon Support Group”]
[Yoongi changed it back to: “PACK CHAT 💀💬”]
[Jin added 🍌💦🐰💍 to the chat description]
Jungkook looked at his phone and sighed.
Namjoon kissed the back of his neck. “Regretting it already?”
Jungkook smiled and leaned back into him. “Nope.”
Pause.
“…But you are printing the Stay Juicy hoodies in pink, right?”
Namjoon just grinned. “Anything for my omega.”