a succubi's problems - jjk x bts

chapter fifteen

"So you just... eat them, as  they're  like... being spoken?" Jimin asks, crowding up against Jeongguks  side on the couch like the other hadn't just come out about  being a  succubus — like nothing had changed at all.

"Yeah, I guess. I don't really think about it anymore, I only notice if something tastes different,"

"Tastes different? What do words tastes like?"

Jeongguk contemplates namjoons question, shifting as taehyung scoots closer on his other side. "Like different foods I guess? If they're  bad words then they taste bad, so like if they're mean then they don't taste very good. Or if the emotion behind them isn't a good emotion. Sometimes it can make me sick if I taste too many bad words — but most of the time they're good so I don't pick them up very much anymore,"

"So then why do you eat normal food?" Jin asks from his spot next to Namjoon on the adjacent love seat, his eyebrows furrowing. "You eat heaps,"

"It doesn't do anything for me though. It offers no nutritional value and it doesn't fill me up or anything, it's just for the taste... and to look normal, I guess,"

"Well, that explains why you eat like a pig and never gain any weight, I can't imagine words have very many calories,"

Jeongguk laughs a little at jins attempt at lightening the mood. Because while things were somewhat still (surprisingly) normal-feeling, there was an air of awkwardness around them all. It made sense, of course. The side effects of finding out a close friend is an otherworldly sex driven being, Jeongguk would imagine, wouldn't be all sunshine and  butterflies. More like... whatever this is. The attempt at normalcy would make Jeongguk laugh if he wasn't still feeling a little sick at his confession, and the implications of everything that followed. Even though Jimin and  taehyung are snuggled in at both his sides like they normally are, it feels a little like they're just doing it to prove something. That they're not bothered, maybe? Same goes for Namjoon, Jin and Hoseok, who are looking at Jeongguk with a little something else in their eye then normal, their words tasting much the same except maybe like they're a day old. A little off tasting — like milk that's past it's best before date, or kimchi that's fermented  too long and been left out in the sun on a hot summers day. Yoongi seems to be the only one wearing his heart on his sleeves, or in his eyes (the scrutinising gaze like he's sizing Jeongguk up, not quite a glare but not all together one hundred percent friendly, either, like he's  trying to figure out whether the lies Jeongguks been telling for years can easily be forgiven with just an apology, Jeongguk doesn't think so and neither does  yooogi it seemed) or unapologetically in his words, either. Which have tasted like lukewarm whisky (even if the words spoken weren't altogether bad) like a bad aftertaste, since they'd all moved  to the couches in the living room an hour ago.

But still, all of this was better than Jeongguk could have ever  imagined. Some awkwardness was a small price to pay to not have all the other worst case scenarios that Jeongguk had  conjured up from happening instead. Like them throwing things at Jeongguk, kicking him out of bts, or if Jeongguk takes a step towards them they take one back, like they're scared of him being too close — of them never  looking at him again, or never speaking to him again, lighting up pitchforks and marching after him with them raised high in the air and—

"What's hell like?"

Jeongguk startles out of his reverie, cheeks burning warm as they all stare at him, well founded curiosity glistening in their  eyes. Yeah, the questioning was better than them chasing after him with pitchforks and Molotov cocktails like in the zombie games Jeongguk liked to play. He could handle this. This, he could deal with.

"Hot."

Jeongguk doesn't mean to be funny, but the others take it as such and jeongguk just chuckles dryly along with their strained laughter until it dies out, and silence engulfs then once again.