#Jungkook alpha | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

borathae · 2 days ago

Text

Bonded

“You didn’t think that having Jungkook save you from an abusive arranged marriage by marking you would mean that you would have to marry him instead. Yet here you are. Bonded to him for life, with his father threatening to ban you if you fuck it up and with your marriage night one step away. It wouldn’t be that scary if you weren’t aware that his family doesn’t bond with omegas.”

- Sequel to Alpha -

Pairing: Alpha!Jungkook x f. omega!Reader

Genre: Werewolves!AU, forced marriage!AU, childhood best friends to lovers!AU, marriage night!AU, Angst, Romance, SMUT

Warnings: Hard Dom!Jungkook, happy sub!Reader, size & strength kink, he is a lot taller than her, angst & misunderstandings in the beginning, poor woman gets threatened left and right at her own bonding party, please protect her, Kook is hurt by her at first but the problem gets solved hihi, her brother is a dick tbfh, insanely protective!Jungkook, whipped Alpha in loveeee, lots of kisses and touches, he is really soft with her & just a lil nervous, he is so lethal tbfh no wonder she gets turned on by him so easily bahaha, kissing & biting of her scent spots, the spots are on her neck and her tits and her inner thighs, he accidentally stimulates them long enough that she goes into heat, which makes him go into his ruts <3, this is a really passionate bonding night for sureeee, intense and hungry nipple sucking, her poor omega tits swell and produce sweet liquid (not milk just idk omega liquid lmaloaooa listen I made this up as I was going and it's hot), Jungkook eats it upppp, sooooo much slick, lots of drool and tears hihih, rough penetrative sex with his big alpha cock, knotting, lots of orgasms for both, breeding with his hot cum mhmh, listen he fucks her roughly while he is knotted which means she repeatedly gets penetrated by his knot, she likes it cause she is so into him, stimulation of her cervix which feels really good for an omega, she is in heaven with him fr, he never felt as good before as well, sex in missionary then in mating press and then just tangled up in a mess of limbs, praise, hand holding, he calls her "baby" & "my love" & "princess", the cuddliest and safest and giggliest aftercare, they're not aware of it yet but they're true mates <3, oh yeah! they break the bed

Wordcount: 15.8k

a/n: YOU HOES (affectionately) ASKED FOR IT AND THIS HOE (me, derogatory) LISTENED!!! I FUCKING LISTENED!!! AND I AGREED!! We need more Alpha!Kook in our life and on this blog. This is the hottest smut ever like (tmi but) i need to jerk it afterwards, which rarely happens with my smut HFAHDSFH i need him to be my alpha husband and rearrange my guts daily tbfh 😔 have fun besties, i hope this is a worthy enough sequel to the first part 😩💛 ps: for all you omegaverse veterans, i'm still a newbie to this AU and this story is MY interpretation of the AU hehe any rule changes are done intentional to my comfort levels <3

If you knew that agreeing to Jungkook’s plan would mean This, perhaps you never would have agreed. Perhaps if the night hadn’t been so stormy and you so hopeless, you wouldn’t have said yes.

But you did and now you are here. In front of the entire pack, in a long dress as your pack’s priest is talking about eternal faithfulness. You knew that being marked by an alpha would mean that you had to be with him, but didn’t think it would mean This.

Your family is in the audience. First row, next to Jungkook’s family. Your brother stares at you with a look you can’t quite make out. You still can’t really stand his face. Jungkook’s father seems displeased and you don’t blame him. The little stunt you pulled made alpha Urquard furious and it was Jungkook’s father who had to take care of it. He wanted to trade another omega at first, but Jungkook stopped him before that could happen. You didn’t get to see Jungkook for two whole days after this incident and when he came back, his upper lip was chipped and he didn’t want to talk about what happened.

“Urquard’s not gonna bother our pack again. That’s all you need to know”, he told you tiredly while you tried to nurse his lip. “And there’s something else. It’s about us”, he then continued.

“About us? What about us?”

“If we wanna keep living here, we have to do something.”

“What do we have to do?”

“And with this kiss, I may pronounce you husband and wife”, the priest says and howls. The rest of the pack follows. Everyone, except Jungkook’s father who is staring holes into you darkly. It is custom for werewolves to howl for a newly bonded couple. It is meant to bring luck and happiness into the marriage. Having the pack alpha refuse this ritual is not a good sign.

You gulp down the heavy lump in your throat, shifting your nervous eyes to Jungkook. He seems nervous too, clasping your clammy hands. He closes the distance. Thankfully the howls are loud enough to mask your voices.

“He isn’t-”

“I know. Ignore him. He’s a stubborn idiot.” Jungkook cups your cheek. “Can I kiss you?”

You hesitate, feeling dizzy from lack of oxygen in your lungs. His father isn’t howling. What if Jungkook doesn’t want this bond either? If you knew that your night with him would end in marriage, maybe you wouldn’t have said yes to him. He wants to kiss you, doesn’t he? His eyes are studying your lips. You want to kiss him too, but it is so scary to go for it. What if he doesn’t want this bond? You hesitate and hesitate. As a matter of fact, you hesitate long enough for the howls to die down.

Heavy, thick silence follows. The pack stares. The priest stares. Jungkook’s father stares. Jungkook himself stares.

“Hey uhm, this is the part where you kiss me”, he whispers.

“I know”, you whisper back.

The priest clears his throat. Jungkook licks his lips nervously, still waiting for your consent. Someone in the audience coughs.

If you knew that agreeing to Jungkook’s plan would lead to having to bond with him, perhaps you never would have agreed. He promised you that you would just have to pretend, that you wouldn’t have to be with him if you didn’t want to and yet here you are. You are now officially his mate. Well, not until you kissed him. You really want to kiss him, but it’s so scary.

“You have to kiss for the bond to be sealed”, the priest whispers as well.

You glance at the audience. Your family seems nervous. Jungkook’s father seems hopeful but also very angry. You look at Jungkook, whose eyes have darkened slightly.

“It seems that the bond is invali-”, the priest tries to announce loudly, but before he can finish his sentence, Jungkook silences him by pulling you into the kiss.

You gasp, eyes wide open and body frozen. His big hand is on the back of your head, keeping you close. The priest sees it as a sign and begins the howling again. It fills the wedding house, almost sounding like melodies of joy. But you feel sick to the stomach. You are mated for life. Jungkook made sure of it and you made sure of how your marriage will be because you hesitated. You can see it in his eyes once he pulls back and they are as cold as ice. Holy fuck, you messed up.

The iciness of his stare continues long into the festivities. It is the duty of the newly bonded couple to open the dance floor with a dance. You and Jungkook have to wait behind a curtain to be called to the floor. You arrive a little later than him because your mother wanted to talk to you before that. Something about being a good mate to him. You didn’t really listen because she pissed you off.

Jungkook sends you an icy glare, tonguing his cheek.

“You”, you stomp to him. Your mother made you angry enough that you feel the need to take it out on him.

He watches you with a cocked up brow. You shove at his chest. He doesn’t budge, but stares with widened eyes.

“How dare you force the kiss onto me like this. You took away my choice”, you hiss.

“Tch.”

“Don’t tch me. You said that it was my choice. You forced me.”

He tenses his jaw, looking anywhere but you. You shove him again with no chance of moving him.

“Did you hear me?”

“I don’t know if you already forgot the five prior conversations we had, but if we didn’t bond today, my dad would have banished us both. I made sure that this wouldn’t happen”, he answers you snappishly.

“This still doesn’t give you the right to kiss me like this”, you throw back, shoving at his chest.

He doesn’t budge, taking your hands to stop you from shoving him again. His grip is strong and possessive, but doesn’t hurt.

“The priest was gonna renounce our bond. I had to act fast”, he hisses.

“Yeah well, I didn’t want to be forced into it.”

“I know that by now”, Jungkook spits and swipes your hands away, turning a cold shoulder to you. He crosses his arms in front of his chest so tightly it looks as if he is trying to hug himself.

“I want an apology for it”, you insist.

“I’m sorry.”

You falter for a moment, not having expected it.

“I’m sorry, okay? Just. Drop it now, please.”

“Drop it? Excuse me?”

Jungkook turns his head away.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

No eye contact.

“Jungkook?”

“I’m done talking to you”, he grumbles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you hurt me.”

You gawk at him, holding your breath. He turns to you, meeting your eyes with such urgency it feels as if he is trying to drown you in the connection.

“All this talk about not wanting me to hold back. You told me not to stop telling you that you’re mine. Was it just empty talk?” he asks.

His heartbroken scent makes you feel heavy in your chest.

“What? I, I don’t- what?” you stutter.

“Did it ever mean something to you?”

“Kook, I-”

“Don’t call me that”, he hisses and steps closer. The thing is, however, that you don’t feel the instinctive need to step back. He doesn’t feel dangerous to you. Not because he isn’t scary, because he definitely is, but because you know for a fact that he wouldn’t hurt you. “Don’t call me that after what you did today.”

You gulp. He puts his hand over his heart, eyes showing how hurt he feels. His voice quivers as he speaks.

“You made me have my first knot ever. You, you made me feel so good that I bit you. You had your first knotting orgasm through me. I was fucking alive inside you”, he say and puts his other hand on your stomach where you once allowed him to feel himself in you.

You gasp and tense at the touch, putting your hand over his’. His touch seeps into you, reminding you how it was to carry his warmth inside you. Everything inside you wants him within the first touch. The connection is so intense that you draw closer to him instinctively.

“I thought that it meant something to you too. So why did you hesitate?” he stresses, eyes racing between yours.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Jungkook pulls his hand away from your stomach. “Wow, okay.”

“Kook, please.”

“Forget it. Let’s just get it over with”, he hisses and a second later, the curtains open and you have to pretend to be a happy couple.

He takes your hand, leading you to the dance floor while howls and claps cheer you on. He positions you and him in the middle of the dance floor, looking down at you with a tightened face.

The music starts. So does the dance.

Jungkook leads it, you follow. He holds you so close. He looks so deeply into your eyes. To anyone else it must seem as if he can’t get enough of his wife, but you are close enough to him that you know his true feelings. He wants this stupid dance to end as quickly as possible.

You can’t bear to look up at him any longer, lowering your eyes.

“Don’t. Look up.”

You obey instinctively.

“You’ve already fucked up the kiss, don’t fuck up the dance as well.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s already a little too late for that, isn’t it?” he says and leans you back as part of the dance. For just a second you see the world upside down before he lifts you again, holding you against his chest as he twirls over the dance floor with you. It makes your dress dance with you and blurs the world around you. He furrows his brows.

“Did it ever mean anything to you?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

“Yes or no? It’s a simple answer.”

“I was desperate and I-”

“Wow.”

“I, I just meant that I don’t know if it meant what it meant to you.”

“Stop talking, seriously.”

You gulp. Jungkook looks away.

“You have to look at me”, you whisper panickedly.

“Don’t worry, the dance is already fucked”, Jungkook says and coincidentally enough, the music switches just this moment. The rest of the pack fills the dance floor, but you barely notice them.

Jungkook steps back and leaves you in the middle of the dance floor. Your chest feels tight. You didn’t want it to come to this. Of course it meant something to you, but he cornered you right now and you tend to say the wrong things under pressure. You didn’t want to give him a dishonest answer, but didn’t have the full answer ready yet. Oh god, this isn’t what you wanted to happen.

Sudden fear fills you. You know instantly that his father is next to you. You force yourself to look at him, holding your breath.

“Ruin this bond, you and your family can look for a new pack. Understood?”

You nod your head fearfully.

“Speak up!”

“Yes! Understood!”

“That’s better. Fucking, bratty omega. Just because my son can’t keep his dick in his pants. I’ll teach him how to discipline you, be sure of that”, he says with a deadly glare and turns his back to you, leaving you in the middle of the dance floor.

You bite back tears.

Alcohol. You need to forget this night. Yes, that’s the solution.

Werewolf bonding parties aren’t that different from human wedding parties. There is good music, delicious food, lots of dancing and even more laughter. There is also, of course, the occasional friendly fighting between two wolves, which may seem scary to a human but is perfectly normal to your species. There is even a saying that if a bonding party doesn’t have friendly fighting, the bond will not last. A part of you had hoped that your party would be such a party just so it wouldn’t be you who ruins the marriage and therefore has to carry the alpha’s wrath. But your wish wasn’t granted the moment you watched Yoongi and Hoseok start a friendly wrestling march next to the margaritas bar.

Speaking of margaritas, you are drunk on them by now. Way too drunk, barely able to stand on two feet.

“Fuck, I need air”, you get out and turn to leave. You run your eyes over the crowd. Your family is by their table, your brother follows you with his eyes. You must be way too drunk because for a second it felt as if he was hunting you with them. You break contact, spotting Jungkook next. He is talking to one of the betas, Seokjin. He also seems terribly drunk. You look away quickly, stumbling past him on your way outside. He follows you with his eyes as you do, but you are too drunk to notice.

The night is cold. A welcome change to the stuffy air inside. Tonight is a new moon. You look up at the moonless sky. Weddings under a new moon mean that they will last long. That’s what the legends say. The new life together starts with the new cycle of the moon. First the fighting, now this. Your marriage seriously wants to last, doesn’t it?

You stumble to a quiet corner, resting against the wall. The music is blurred behind a veil of alcohol and the thick walls of the venue.

The thing is, it’s not that you had to bond with Jungkook which upsets you so much. It is the fact that it had to happen under such circumstances. You are sure that if he didn’t have to mark you in order to save your life, he would have never even thought about taking you as a mate. You know how his family thinks. A wolf with the alpha gen should mate with another wolf with the alpha gen. Bonding with an omega isn’t a thing in Jungkook’s family. And this is what scares you. You are an omega in a family of alphas and his father seems to fucking hate it. What if Jungkook hates it too? He talked about keeping you safe and not wanting to let you go, but he probably didn’t think that he would have to mate with you. He was probably high on his afterglow and talked without thinking.

“Urgh”, you let out, grinding your fangs.

But then, why was he so upset that you hesitated? Was it because he wanted to own you as quickly as possible? But he smelled heartbroken. Someone who is merely upset about not owning you wouldn’t smell like this. This is confusing you so much.

“Who knew that you would be married before me.”

You turn your head to your brother. You must be really drunk because his eyes still seem so different.

“It’s crazy to imagine that you came back and got bonded”, he says.

“Only because you fucked up and I almost had to die for it. Otherwise, Jungkook would have never had to step in and I would have never had to bond with him”, you throw back.

Your brother studies you with furrowed brows.

“Look, I said that I’m sorry and I am. It was an accident. I thought that she was a deer.”

“Tch, sure. I know you were into her. I watched you sneak away sometimes to see her. You got jealous and decided to kill her because you couldn’t bear the thought that she was to be with someone else. Admit it”, you challenge him because you know that it was bullshit. Your brother would never kill someone out of jealousy.

Something changes in your brother’s face, however. Your brother disappears, the face of an ice cold killer stares back at you. The face of a killer who killed before and who would do it again. He steps closer and you instinctively step back. Fear and the desire to flee overcomes you. It is difficult however when he has you cornered. It is a dark corner and there are no people around.

“What, what are you doing? You, you are scary”, you stutter.

“You know, you were never supposed to come back.”

“What?”

“If I were you, I’d be careful with your words from now on”, he warns, dragging the back of his hand down your face, “are we understood, sister?”

You whimper instinctively, avoiding his eyes. His touch feels like sandpaper on your skin. He comes closer. You are so scared.

“Are we under-”, he stumbles back as a strong hand tugs him away from you. It is so rough in fact that he squeaks against his will.

“Do we have a problem here?” Jungkook growls, stepping between you and your brother. He is huffing his air, torso stretching the fabric of his suit because his protectiveness is making his body grow. Your brother tries to take a step closer, but instantly stops with just one deep growl of Jungkook.

Your brother looks at you for a brief moment. The person you once knew is gone from his eyes.

“I was already leaving”, he presses out and turns his back to leave. He knows better than to pick a fight with Jungkook. He gets as far as one step before the latter pulls him back.

He tries to fight him in reaction, but gives up quickly when Jungkook renders him useless with a strong grip on his chin. His claws dimple his skin, threatening to break through. He is towering over your brother by now.

“You are the one who is going to start picking his words carefully from now on. She is under my protection now. Is that clear?”

“Is this supposed to scare me?”

“Don’t test me.” Jungkook hisses, shaking him by his chin. “I’ll let you go tonight because you’re her brother and I don’t wanna break her heart, but you threaten her again and you’re dead. Are we understood?” he snarls his words, eyes dangerously golden and sharp fangs on full display.

“Yes”, your brother croaks out.

“Speak up!” Jungkook barks, shaking him.

“Yes! I’m sorry, yes!”

“Good. Now leave, you’re ruining my wife’s mood”, Jungkook growls and pushes him away.

The man, who was once your brother, stumbles back and runs off with his tail tucked between his legs.

Jungkook stares him down until he truly left and only then, he turns to you. He puts his hands on your upper arms, touching you so gently one might never know how roughly he handled your brother seconds ago. His features are clouded over with worry. His body is smaller again and his muscles shrunk back to their relaxed size.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks, studying you worriedly.

You shake your head, gasping for air in small, helpless breaths.

“Hey, sshhh you’re okay now. You’re okay”, he says, hugging you against his chest. One hand is on your back, the other on the back of your head. The calming scent of him engulfs you, masking your own frightened scent.

“People need to stop threatening me tonight”, you get out, sobbing into him.

“You’re okay, baby. You’re okay”, he keeps repeating the words, placing little kisses all over the crown of your head.

The fight of earlier feels far away to both of you. Especially to him.

It wasn’t long after you stumbled past him, that he followed you outside. At first he followed you with the intent of confronting you again, but then he saw that you were talking to your brother and he stayed back. Because of his heightened senses, he heard everything of your conversation with him. He also smelled your fear even before hearing your whimper and it drove up his desire to protect you to such levels that he has to tremble now that he finally holds you safe and sound.

“You’re okay. I’m here now. I’m here.”

You tilt your head up, meeting his eyes.

“This wasn’t my brother anymore.”

“I know, I’m sorry”, he says, wiping your tears.

“He murdered her. Kook, he is a murderer.”

“I heard everything. I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

“He looked at me as if he wanted to kill me too.”

“I wouldn’t have let him. He’d have been dead if he tried.”

“Kook”, you get out and hide away in his chest.

You smell so sad and heartbroken and scared. Jungkook feels parts of his body cramp from how much he trembles. He wants to protect you more than he already does. It is driving him insane that he can’t do more for you.

“Jungkook, I wanna go home but I don’t…” Your sad scent reaches its peak as tears roll down your cheeks. “I don’t even know where that is anymore”, you press out and sob.

“Hey no, don’t cry. I’ll take you home”, Jungkook says and puts his arm around you to lead you away from the venue. You let your head fall against him, crying loudly because everything is just a lot for you.

“Do we have to tell anyone? Can we just leave? What if they ask questions? I don’t know what to do anymore, I don’t-”

“Hey, everything is gonna be okay. We’re the bridal couple, they’ll just have to accept the fact that we left early.”

You nod your head in understanding. You are so glad that he took control right now. You would have been lost and overwhelmed without him.

You walk home side by side. It happens for comfort reasons that, after a while, you and he stop hugging so close. You are in nothing but your dress and he is in nothing but his suit. The streets are empty and quiet because the entire pack is currently at your wedding party.

You already walked long enough that you managed to calm down from the initial shock. It is an unspoken truth between you and him that you don’t want to talk about what happened. This means, however, that your walk is silent and that feels really awkward.

The town you grew up in hasn’t changed much ever since you were a child. The same trees still grow along the same streets, except that they are a lot taller these days. The same houses are still home to the same people and bonding nights are still held in the town’s sports hall.

Said sports hall is still close to the playground and the way home still leads through it.

You and Jungkook slow down as you walk down a metaphorical memory lane. You scraped your knee on the slide when you were eight and he had to blow on it to make it better. Jungkook sprained his ankle jumping off the swing when he was nine and you had to hold his hand as his mother rubbed it better again. Under the weeping willow, you and your friends played the silly little dares and you had your first kiss with him.

You look away from the tree, meeting Jungkook’s eyes. He looked at it as well. You turn your head away, feeling your throat tighten in panic. Jungkook feels his heart twist in reaction. The better voice in him says not to dwell on it, the love drunk idiot in him tells him to fight for it. He wins in the end.

“Wanna sit on the swings?” he suggests.

“And do what?”

“I don’t know. Swing? Sober up a little?”

You contemplate for a second, nodding your head in the end.

You weren’t even aware of how much you needed to sit until you are on the swing, stretching out your legs. You hate heels. They’re the worst shoes ever invented. You swing back and forth slowly, Jungkook does the same. This is still the same swing set you and he played on twenty years ago. The chains still leave this weird metallic smell on your hands and the rusty hinges seem to creak even more these days. You look up at the sky. The stars are so clear without the moon hiding them in her shine. You know this view all too well. In your left vision there are some branches of a maple tree and in the right a electrical pole is peaking at you. The view is familiar to you because twenty years ago, you and Jungkook sat at the same swing in the same order like you do today.

You dare to glance at him. He is looking at the sky, unaware of your eyes on him. His face is relaxed, his lips slightly parted in awe of the vast universe. His eyes are the darkest brown right now, reflecting the stars. The street lights behind him illuminate the edges of his silhouette, glimmering in parts of his dark hair as well. He is so beautiful when he thinks that no one is looking.

To think that you subconsciously chose the same swing even after all these years. He broke your heart like this fifteen years ago and now you are back, bonded. Your heart feels heavy. You shouldn’t have hesitated. You don’t know how Jungkook feels about this bond, but you get a feeling that you shouldn’t have hesitated.

A gust of wind sweeps through the playground and makes you shiver. Your teeth clatter and you wrap your arms around yourself to rub your freezing skin. He looks at you, studying you.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“It’s fine. I just wasn’t planning on being outside for so long. I only wanted to catch some air for a bit. I’m kinda drunk.”

Jungkook stands up from his swing.

You watch him, confused.

He shrugs off his suit jacket and closes the distance to put it over your shoulders. It is warmed up from him, instantly stilling your shivers. It also smells like him, making you just a little droopy. He hovers his hands over your shoulders because he doesn’t know if you want his touch, talking in a soft voice.

“Is this better?”

“Yeah, thanks”, you whisper, feeling your heart race.

“Good. Keep it. I’m too hot anyway”, he says and leaves your side to sit down next to you.

He swings back and forth gently, watching some leaves dance on the ground as the wind carries them. Now is the perfect opportunity to talk, but he feels mute. He doesn’t want to fuck it up. Or perhaps he just doesn’t want to get hurt again.

He dances his eyes over the playground, reminiscing on all the memories he shares with you here. You and he could have been so right and then his father fucked him up. Jungkook forces down the heavy lump in his throat.

“What’s wrong?”

He looks at you with widened eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m an omega. I can smell when people around me are upset.”

“Ah. I don’t know. I guess, just thinking of old stuff”, he says and rubs the side of his neck.

“Yeah. Lots of memories here”, you say and sigh.

Jungkook sees it as his cue to ask you what he had planned to ask you before he witnessed you with your brother instead.

“Why did you hesitate?”

You almost fall off the swing in shock. Jungkook takes your hand, providing you with support. He feels vast of air when you instinctively squeeze him back and intertwine your fingers deeper. There they are again. Those mixed signals. You say one thing, but do the other. You do another thing, but say the complete opposite. Jungkook can barely take the confusion anymore, repeating his question again.

“I get it that you were nervous, but it looked like you didn’t want to kiss me at all. Why?”

“I just…”, you pull your hand back, swinging gently to soothe yourself.

Jungkook swings as well, looking at you.

“All of this is a lot for me. I went from a normal woman to a sex slave by a snatch to an omega marked, to a wife in the span of two weeks. This is a lot to work through.”

“Yeah, when you put it like this, it really is.”

“I didn’t think that our little stunt in the shed would lead to this.”

“Yeah honestly, neither did I. I thought that they would want us to date for a little and that’s it.”

“Yeah”, you agree and glance at him. “I’m scared that you are only doing this because your dad forced you. That’s why I hesitated. I saw the way he looked at me.”

“Don’t think about him. He is old and unhappy. He didn’t force me. Not when I…I dreamt of having you as my wife ever since I’ve known you.”

“What?”

You stop swinging. Jungkook stops as well, turning with the swing to face you.

“I think that’s why I kissed you. The priest wanted to announce that it’s invalid and I panicked and went in. I just needed to know that this wouldn’t be lost forever.”

“Oh my god, you dreamed of bonding with me?” you press out, eyes full of emotions.

“Ever since I’ve known you. Well, you know, ever since I knew what bonding meant. I always wanted it to be with you.”

“Kook…”

He rests his head against the metal chain, reaching his hands out for you. You turn with your swing and take his hands, feeling your pulse in your neck because of how high he raises it. His thumbs draw hearts on your skin, his eyes are so soft.

“Yeah, I guess it’s out there now”, he says, laughing softly.

“It is”, you whisper and squeeze his hands.

Jungkook squeezes them right back, smiling with his eyes before it washes over his lips as well.

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this on the same swing set you best friend broke up with me when we were twelve.”

He laughs, lifting his brows for it. It’s such a cute laugh, making you laugh with him.

“Correction, where I was forced to best friend break up with you ‘cause my dad is a control freak.”

“Right. I’m sorry that your dad sucks.”

"Yeah, I guess I got used to it. He’s my dad, that’s how he is.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“Thanks.” Jungkook says and lets go of your hands to twirl back to the front. He takes a deep breath and stands up.

“Where are you going?”

“If I remember correctly, you always loved the swing the most.”

“I did, but what’s that got to do with anything?”

He walks behind you and puts his hands on the chain of the swing.

“Hold on tight.”

“Huh? Oh!”

He pushes you, making you swing back and forth. You squeal, having to laugh afterwards. Jungkook snickers with you, pushing you a second time to make you swing higher. Your shared laughter dances through the playground and in this short moment in life’s series of moments, you and he feel like kids again. There are no responsibilities lingering in the back of your heads, no fears of the future, no stresses of past days nor dreams ruined by reality. You and he are twelve again, using the swings after a long day of playing adventurers in the forests. The stars shine brighter and the wind doesn’t feel that cold anymore. You are alive again, flying to the very stars with each push Jungkook gives you.

“Not too high please, I’ll get scared”, you squeal, feeling tears of laughter run down your cheeks.

“Don’t worry, I won’t push you too high. I never did, remember?”

You and he talk as he continues to push you on the swing.

“If I remember correctly, you sometimes pushed me way too high because you were a gremlin like that.”

“A gremlin? Wow, okay”, he laughs and pushes you extra hard as playful revenge.

“Hey! No, it’s too high!” you squeak, laughing way too much.

Jungkook does it again.

“Kook please! I’m gonna fall, ah!”

And it happens. Your drunk ass falls off the swing. You squeal, preparing for impact which never comes. Instead he catches you in his strong arms, looking down at you with protective, caring eyes.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

“Yeah, thanks”, you whisper, watching his lips move. You giggle, dropping your head on his shoulder, “fuck, I’m too clumsy for this.”

“Hah, yeah.”

Jungkook noticed that you looked at his lips. For just a second, he wanted to kiss you. In the end, he didn’t. He won’t ever kiss you again without your consent.

He sets you down gently, holding both your hands against his chest. You look up at him, feeling a little robbed of air. His eyes race between yours as if he trying to build connection between your souls with just one look.

“I promise to be a good husband to you. No harm shall ever come to you through my hands and if I should ever break this promise, it is your right to strike me down. You have my body as protection and my heart to find a home in, ___. You always have and you always will.”

“You keep saying that. Does it mean..?”

“It does. It means that I love you and that I’ll do anything to make you happy.” He exhales shakily. “I know that you don’t feel the same and I’m sorry again that I kissed you. Please, can you forgive-”

You put your finger on his lips, silencing him. He whimpers a little because of it.

“Can I say something now? Please?”

“Of course”, he says and steps back, fumbling with his own hands nervously.

“I’m not mad at you anymore that you kissed me. I, I was planning to kiss you, I was. I just, I saw your dad and he wasn’t howling and then I thought that we’re only in this situation because you had to save me. And I panicked and I was scared that we’d regret it and yeah.”

He nods his head in understanding, lowering his eyes sadly. You take his hand.

“It meant something to me too.”

He meets your emotional eyes, feeling emotional himself.

“It meant something to me, maybe not the same as it did to you but it did mean something to me. I wanted to tell you this, but didn’t know how. I get nervous when I’m cornered and I forget my words and then say dumb stuff.”

“I get it. I’m sorry that I cornered you. I guess I have the tendency to be pushy when I’m nervous. I shouldn’t have cornered you, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah well, I should have said something. I liked what we did in the shed and it meant something to me.” You put his hand on your stomach. “You were alive inside me and it was the best feeling I ever experienced.”

Jungkook sighs your name, instinctively drawing closer to you.

“But we also barely know each other as adults. What if we realize that we’re not right as mates once we get to know each other?”

“I don’t think that will happen. I’m still the same than I was before, just older.”

“You’re an alpha these days.”

“I am and I’ll use this status to provide for you and to keep you safe. I promise.”

“Really?” you whisper, looking up at him with those same puppy eyes you had in the shed.

Jungkook feels weak in the knees. Those eyes are lethal to him.

“Yes, really. All I want is someone to provide for, someone to care for and protect. And for that someone to be you. I just. I wanna keep you safe, ___”, he says.

“Oh”, you let out and exhales shakily.

“Mhm, yeah”, he breathes and brushes the back of his fingers down your temple.

“But”, you begin.

“Yes?”

“But not too much. I don’t want you to get hurt”, you say and trace his upper lip. The cut healed by now, but the memory of how it looked is still in your mind. Jungkook chases your touch, closing his fingers around your wrists. He holds you tenderly, tracing the spots most sensitive with his thumbs.

“Alright, not too much”, he whispers, smiling softly.

You share silence, looking at the other. Jungkook is the one to break it.

“We’ll get to know each other again and it’s gonna be nice. I want to make this work”, he whispers.

“I wanna make it work too. Not for the sake of my safety or anything, but because I wanna love you too.”

“You do?”

You nod your head.

Jungkook exhales shakily, closing the distance for a kiss. He stops just a breath away.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

You give him your answer by erasing the remaining distance, connecting your lips with his’. His knees buckle, his arms instantly fall around you to hold you close. The world around you seems non-existent as your lips are lost in the kind of kiss a bonded couple should exchange. It is epic. Jungkook feels so alive. He knows that if he tried hard enough, he could touch the stars.

You feel the same. This kiss is your reminder that whatever you and he have is out of your control. It is a bond made by fate, formed under a new moon. This is how you felt in the shed when he was alive inside you.

Those feelings are heightened because of the alcohol, forcing you closer to him. Which makes him lose control for just a second, ending in you pressed up against the swing set post and with his hand on your lower back.

It knocks out a soft moan from you. Jungkook answers it in a deep purr, sliding his right hand to your cheek to tilt your head higher. He sucks on your lower lip, ending it with a gentle bite.

The effect is instant for you. Slick begins to gather between your legs, your head gets droopy and everything inside you screams at you to give yourself to him.

Breathing shakily, you break the kiss. He stays close, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes and parted lips.

“Oh my god”, you whisper, tracing your own lips. They’re tingling from what he did.

“Yeah. Right?” he agrees, scrunching his nose and stubbing your temple with his forehead in a gesture of adoration. “Who’d have known that we’d kiss like this here”, he says, gazing at you.

Your eyes soften in submission. Jungkook feels drawn to you beyond repair.

“Keep looking at me with those eyes and we won’t reach home tonight”, he rasps, touching your waist as he basically undresses you with his eyes. “I’d take you right here and now. Make you feel so good that you see new constellations.”

Drunk you cannot handle talk like this, breaking into giddy giggles and hiding away in his chest.

“Are you laughing at me?” he gasps.

“No, oh god no. It’s just, nobody ever talked to me like this before”, you explain yourself between giggles, nuzzling closer.

Jungkook chuckles, rubbing your back.

“Get used to it. I realised that I’m kinda outta control when it comes to you. Maybe it’s the alpha gen.”

“Maybe”, you look up at him with pretty puppy eyes, arms wrapped around his waist and chin resting against his chest.

He stubs your nose with his own, hands groping your butt possessively.

“Stop looking at me.”

“It’s hard. When you touch me, I also lose control. I think it’s the omega gen.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just a lightweight.”

“Hah! So you’re saying I’m just drunk?”

“Basically, yeah.”

You snicker, Jungkook grins.

“Come on, let’s go home before I actually do something indecent to you.”

You gladly let him hold your hand now that his kiss triggered your affectionate instincts, following him in happy steps.

Your walk home ends at Jungkook’s house. Two stories high and with a big garden surrounding it, it was one of the more luxurious houses in town.

“This is where we’ll live?”

“If you want to. I figured, you know, given how you still live with your parents and I’m living alone, we could use my place. It’s totally fine if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Yes? Great then we can get your stuff in the coming days. But for now, let me do this right”, he says and swoops you off your feet.

“Ah”, you let out, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you over the threshold. Why?”

“Nothing, it’s so”, you stop talking to giggle instead, nuzzling your nose against his cheek. “It’s so cheesy.”

Jungkook chuckles, heart racing in his chest. He kicks the door closed behind him and does a twirl in the middle of his hallway.

“Wait! I’m too drunk for this! Eeek”, you squeak, hiding away in his neck. “Please stop, I’m too dizzy.”

Luckily for you, Jungkook listens. He stops and sets you down, holding you close as you sway.

“This wasn’t funny. Oh god, I’m dizzy”, you laugh, dropping your forehead against his chest. He rests his cheek against your head, talking in a chuckle.

“See? Told you. Total lightweight.”

“I’m not a lightweight. You’re just a gremlin”, you say and shove at his chest. He laughs, holding your hands.

“You’re adorable. Come, dance with me”, he says, placing your left hand on his neck and holding the other.

“Dance? Right now?”

“Yeah. Just you and I. We’ll do it right this time.”

“But I’m dizzy.” You step on his foot, making him groan. “And I have two left feet when drunk. Sorry, are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I’m more than okay”, he says, smiling at you as your bodies move to silent melodies.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, baby. Just look at me”, he whispers, right hand on your lower back. It is so warm.

You look up at him. The pull is magnetic and fucking electric. You are so attracted to him. He has you feeling drunker than any amount of alcohol ever could. You are so fuzzy inside because of all the laughing you have been doing.

“You have the most beautiful eyes ever”, Jungkook whispers, raising your pulse with it.

“Kook, I”, you begin, eyes flitting to his lips. Merely seeing the shape of them is enough to reignite the flames in your stomach. Dancing becomes a little harder now that you are so excited.

“What’s the matter?” he whispers.

“It’s embarrassing”, you confess with a heated face.

“Tell me.”

“No, it’s so stupid. I don’t even wanna do it but it just happens.”

He guides his touch from your lower back to your waist. Gentle and loving but insanely possessive at the same time. “I promise I won’t laugh.”

You hesitate.

“Promise.”

“I’m, uh, there is slick.”

Jungkook draws closer, making you chase his kiss.

“Shit. There is?”

“Yeah”, you whimper.

He lowers his eyes, making you taste the idea of his kiss. It makes you so desperate for him.

“Is this normal for you or….”

You shake your head, “it never happened before. Not like this. Or that easily. I don’t know, I’m sorry, I can’t stop it.”

“Holy fuck. Baby.”

“It’s so stupid.”

“No, it’s not. Just kiss me.”

You kiss him. At least you try to because before your lips can touch, you step on his toes again. Vigorously.

“Ouch, hey”, he gasps, flinching back.

“Sorry! Oh my god, sorry. Are you okay?"

“Ah fuck”, he laughs, “yeah, I’m okay. You’re a terrible dancer.”

“Hey”, you pout.

He chuckles and pecks your cheek.

“I want to show you one thing before we make it official”, he says.

“Show me, please.”

“Follow me. You can leave your shoes by the door.”

Jungkook’s home is somehow exactly how you imagined it to be. It is neat and tidy, but doesn’t really have a lot of character. The rooms are spacious with little furniture filling them. The furniture is modern and there are barely any decorations present. It is the house of someone who doesn’t feel at home in it. The desire to make it cozy and homey for him becomes stronger and stronger within you. There are already a million ideas swarming your head.

“You’re quiet. Do you not like it here?” Jungkook asks you.

“No, it’s not that. I’m thinking.”

"About what?”

“It’s gonna sound silly.”

“Tell me.”

“I already have so many ideas on how to make it cozier here. Sorry, I know it’s your house and everything.”

Jungkook steps close and cradles your face, making you look up at him.

“And it’s your home. Make it as cozy as you want to”, he speaks softly, eyes warm and caring.

“Really?”

He nods, kissing your forehead.

“This place never felt like a home to me anyway. It can use the caring touch of an omega.”

You can’t explain how he makes you feel because you never experienced it before. The best way to describe it is cozy and safe. You want to curl up close to him and be yourself with him. This is how he makes you feel. As if you are allowed to be your truest You.

“Speaking of cozy omegas, we’re here.”

“Here where?”

“My surprise for you. I worked hard on it these past few days.”

He opens the door for you, allowing you view of one of the coziest rooms you have ever seen. It is filled with soft surfaces to lie on. A bed, a big sofa, some bean bags, a window bench. Curtains frame the window and the bed. The floor is covered in soft rugs. There are pillows to sink into on every surface and he installed fairy lights on the wall and the bed frame.

“What’s this?” you gasp.

“It’s your nest.”

You look at him. He is clearly nervous, smelling of it as well.

“I’m still new to the entire omega heat thing. I know that they’re a thing, obviously, and I know that you like to get cozy for them. I looked up nest inspirations online. It told me that you like lots of pillows and blankets and that I should make it cozy and warm. You can totally change everything in this room, of course.” He touches the side of his neck. “I just thought that I’d try to make it comfortable for you. At least maybe? I don’t know, I just wanna make it nice for you.”

Your lower lip trembles.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna make you cry. Is it that bad? I’m sorry, I suck at interior design.”

You shake your head and fall around his neck, “thank you.”

Jungkook closes his arms around you, nuzzling his nose into your neck. You smell of happiness right now.

“Does this mean you like it?” he asks.

“I love it so much. I never had a nest before. I’m so happy.”

“You are?”

“Yes, so much.”

You step back, giving him a smile. Jungkook retorts it. You giggle and turn so you can hurry through the room.

Jungkook watches you, enjoying the droopy feelings in his chest. The longer you are in the room and the more details you spot, the stronger your scent of happiness gets. It almost fills up the entire room by now, making him feel so warm and complete. He feels at home in his house for the very first time.

“This is so cozy, oh my god. So soft, wow. I love this colour, holy moly. Wow. So cozy. Wow”, you gush and gasp as you inspect everything and anything.

You end up dropping into one of the beanbags, nuzzling into it as deep as possible while you purr in contentment.

Jungkook feels his knees buckle. He got you to purr. Holy fuck, he was seriously placed on this earth to treat you right.

He closes the distance between you and him, kneeling down in front of you. He comes closer, putting his weight on his elbow which he rests on the beanbag above your head. He leans down to kiss your cheek.

You stop your nuzzling, gasping quietly as his sudden closeness surprises you. You look up and can’t look away again.

“You’re the most beautiful bride I have ever seen”, he whispers, cradling your cheek with his other hand.

“Oh”, you let out, feeling dizzy.

“No wonder I had to kiss you.” He furrows his brows. “I know I shouldn’t have done this and I’m sorry.”

“I’m not angry anymore. You built me a nest”, you tear up, “Jungkook, please give me my bonding night. I want to be with you.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“So sure, please. I can’t take it anymore.” You shiver. “I keep producing slick and I’m so cold without you and, and I wanna feel that good again. Like we did in the shed. I, I wanna feel like this again. Please.”

Jungkook closes his fist on the beanbag, trying to keep himself at bay. His instincts threaten to kick in when you beg like this.

“Do you want it here?”

“Yes, please.”

“And you know what I’ll do to you? What might happen again?”

You deepen the lethalness of your puppy eyes, taking his hand to put it over your stomach. You whisper your words, turning him into puddy.

“I want to feel alive again. Together with you.”

“Holy fuck, ___”, Jungkook croaks and goes in for a kiss. He growls and stops himself. “I need you to say that you understand. Please, don’t make me do it without hearing it first.”

“Yes, Kook. I know what you’ll do to me. I need you to, please.”

“Thank you. Oh my god baby, I wanna treat you so right”, he croaks out and finally falls into the kiss. “I’ll never ever force myself onto you again. Never. Fucking never. Holy fuck, baby”, he babbles between kisses, turning you into a weak, turned on mess. “Wanna treat you so right. My baby. Mine.”

His touch is everywhere at the same time, unable to decide where to find its home. It feels so good. Each spot he touches, tingles and heats up. Whenever he changes spots, it leaves behind shivers and goosebumps before the entire process repeats itself again.

You want to keep kissing him, but soon have to stop because of his touch. You have to gasp for air, you would suffocate otherwise.

Jungkook, barely holding onto the threat of humanity by now, doesn’t see any problem in being denied your lips. He kisses a path to your neck hungrily. Your aroused smell becomes stronger and stronger the closer he gets to your scent glands. He knows how good it feels when someone kisses his scent spots and he wonders if it is the same for you.

He kisses the spot on your left side, forcing you to arch your back and gasp loudly. You instinctively grasp his back.

“Do you like this?” he rasps his words, nibbling on the sensitive spot. You smell so good. Jungkook has never felt such an obsession with another’s scent before. He needs it all over his body, melted with his skin so everyone can smell who his heart belongs to. He can’t stop kissing you, picking up more and more of your scent.

“Does this feel good?” he asks again because you were too busy gasping the first time.

“Ye-yeah”, you gasp out, staring at the ceiling in shock. Your fingers twitch and tremble on his back, claws threatening to come out and slice open his shirt.

What is happening to you? You were kissed on your neck before, but this feels different. This feels lethal, fateful, like it is changing the way you view pleasure. You have never felt so electric before and so close to losing control.

“You smell so good, I can’t get enough.”

“Wow, oh god, wow…”

Jungkook stays on your left side until he can smell your arousal on his lips. Only then, does he kiss a sloppy path to your right side. He moans when he witnesses you roll your head to the side willingly and he moans again when he goes in to worship your hard working scent spot. And it is working hard. Fucking hell, you smell like pure sex and arousal. Jungkook huffs it up hungrily, biting and licking at the delicious spot.

All while you stare and gasp and lose control over yourself. The bites feel so good. You want to squirm and moan. Your head is fuzzy, your body so weakened. What is happening? What the fuck is happening to you? You can’t stop producing more slick. You are so hot. Seriously, so fucking hot. Oh god, you can’t think anymore. Anything you can think is how much you need him to fuck you.

“Seriously, fuck”, Jungkook comes up for air, mouthing at your cheek drunkenly, “you smell so good. I feel high.”

“I wanna be naked”, you croak out, arching your back. You don’t have many thoughts except desire and sex. Being naked is all you crave right now. If you’re naked, Jungkook can potentially bite more parts of you. This is the logic of your fuzzy mind and it is driving you crazy that it isn’t your reality yet.

“Sit up then and let me open your dress.”

You obey gladly, almost dry heaving in desire. Jungkook reaches behind you and opens your dress. He wanted to pull it off slowly to make the moment romantic, but you shrug it off quickly for him.

He meets your eyes. They are golden and clouded in desire.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks.

“Why not?”

“I never saw you naked before.”

“Oh.” A little clarity returns to your eyes. “Right.”

He can smell hints of coyness in your scent. And a little bit of nervousness.

“Wrap your arms around me.”

You obey his order and like this, Jungkook is able to lift you out of your dress and carry you to bed. He lays you down carefully, straddling your lap without sitting down.

You are below him in nothing but your underwear, feeling small and fragile, but so safe.

“Do you wanna take it slower?” he suggests.

“No, just nervous that’s all.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. We can slow down whenever you need to.”

“Okay”, you whisper and make puppy eyes at him, “can you, uhm, can you bite me more?”

“Yes. Wow this is…hah. Of course”, he lets out, “first, let me match you.”

He is getting undressed. First his tie, then he opens his buttons. His shirt leaves him first, next his belt and last his slacks. He stays in his briefs, heavy cock straining the fabric as much as he soaks it.

Now sharing in your state of undress, he leans down, taking your hands to pin them gently. He kisses you, blurring your thoughts into one big mess of arousal and safety. His thumbs caress your hands as he kisses you. Your scent is on his face, forcing even more slick to run out of you. Any sort of nervousness you felt is getting wiped out with each new kiss you share. He tastes so goddamn good. His lips are soft and the piercings on them are so exciting to feel.

The kiss breaks when air is sparse. Jungkook stays close to paint paths of worship down your body. He bites the softest spots and sucks marks of ownership on the firmer spots. And you are in heaven, wishing for him to never stop. Such heavenly feelings are unfamiliar to you. You had people mark you before, but it didn’t feel like this. With Jungkook, you need him to continue. You need to know that every single inch of you is marked by him in one way or the other. Whether it be a bite mark, a kiss spot or his scent, you need it on your body and each time he gives it to you, you leak more slick. It is out of your control, unfamiliar and amazing. So amazing.

Jungkook is lingering over your sternum right now, hot breath tickling your skin. His strong hands are holding you under your armpits, reminding you that you were owned by the safest lover.

“I know it’s difficult for you, but please stop me if I go too fast. I can’t stop myself once I let go, so I need you to yell it at me.”

“Please. Don’t stop. Please, you feel so good”, you sigh, writhing.

“Wow, I….fuck, I want you”, he rasps, having to kiss every inch of you. “I want you. I want you so bad.”

“Ah…please…don’t stop…”

Jungkook reaches your breasts. They are swollen and plumb from arousal. They aren’t always like this. When you are feeling normal, they also look and feel normal. They are how breasts are supposed to be, sagging from gravity and soft when lying down. Not right now. They stay in place. They are a little bigger, plumber and hot to the touch. They also smell like your arousal. Even through the fabric of your bra. It is so much sweeter and richer than it was on your neck. Jungkook moans like a druggy having found his drug, going in for a taste with an open mouth and way too much tongue.

“Ah”, you whimper, following it up with a submissive mewl. You are losing control again and it feels so good. Why does everything he does feel so good? It is as if you are a virgin being touched for the very first time, which is insane because you definitely aren’t.

“Your skin’s so soft and warm. I can’t get enough of you”, he mumbles between his hungry kisses, turning you into puddy. You lost sense of how much more you can still take before you burst.

His masculine, possessive hands hold your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh desperately. His spit soaks the fabric of your bra, leaving behind spots of coldness whenever he moves on to a new spot.

It happens again. You experience sensations you have never felt before. People played with your tits before, you played with them as well but it never felt like this. It never felt so otherworldly. They are so swollen. You can’t breathe because there is so much pressure building up behind your nipples. You throw your hand over your mouth to muffle the overwhelmed sob, twisting the sheets with your other hand. It hurts. The pressure really hurts not to be taken care of.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to hear your panicked whimper because he doesn’t slow down in his feast.

“Your scent, I’m so high. It’s insane, holy fuck, so good…”

It gets too much for you. The pressure hurts so much. You’re scared. What is happening to you?

Jungkook squeezes your breasts and bites down gently. The pressure bursts. You wail, arching your back as warmth trickles out of your nipples, soaking your bra.

The sweet scent of it hits his nose instantly. He tenses up and shudders, cock threatening to burst through his briefs.

“What the-”

Jungkook’s instincts tell him to rip your bra off and lick up the sweet scent, but he forces himself to be stronger than them. It is you who lies below him in such a vulnerable state. If he took advantage of that, he would never forgive himself.

“Jungkook, help me. Please. I’m scared”, you beg him in a quivering voice.

“Try to focus on me. Focus baby, right here”, he tells you, cradling your cheeks.

Your eyes search aimlessly for a moment, but soon find their home in his gaze.

“Koo”, you whimper, grabbing his wrists, “I’m scared. What is happening to me?”

“I don’t know. It never happened to me before. My instincts tell me to clean it for you, but I don’t know if you want this.”

“Please, it hurts. Just make it stop, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please”, you sob.

“Sit up.”

You barely manage to obey. Jungkook supports you, using his other hand to open your bra and tug it off of you. He throws it to the side, helping you lie down again.

Your breasts, normally victims to gravity, stay plumb and perky as you lie down. It is yet another proof that whatever he is doing to you is working beyond comprehension.

“Holy fuck, ___, your tits”, Jungkook gets out, gawking at them in total awe. They are seriously so swollen, your nipples are so hard and they seem to keep leaking pearlescent liquid. “You’re so beautiful, but holy fuck they’re so swollen. Baby, wow.,”

“I don’t know what’s happening. They’re so… so…there’s so much pressure.”

“I can’t. Oh god.”

If only you and he knew that this is happening to you because he stimulated your scent glands. If only you knew that simulation of said glands only works this well with your true mate. You could have a hundred other men play with your tits the same way Jungkook did, but your body would never fall into such helplessness with any of them. Only he will get you to such levels of pleasure. Because it is only his mouth which is destined to taste your sweet pleasure.

You and he are unaware of this fact however, because this is still new to both of you.

“What, what do you need me to do?” He stutters, salivating.

“I don’t know. Your instincts, I don��t- ah.”

“Right.” His eyes glow golden. “My instincts”, he growls and gives in to the voices. “Stay still, I’ll take care of it.”

He picks up your tits and squeezes them together so your nipples are close to each other. He lowers his dripping mouth to them, taking in your right first but with the intention that your left will follow very soon.

His instincts tell him to stimulate your nipples with soft bites first until they are throbbing and then change to sucking them. He listens to his instincts, getting you to moan so loudly that his cock throbs painfully.

“Is this working, baby?” he asks, drooling all over your sweet nipples.

“Oh god, yeah”, you croak, arching your back. You twist the sheets, curling your toes. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, Koo thank you…”

“Fuuuck baby, so hot”, he drags out his words until it turns into a growl instead, loving you oh so right.

He bites and bites, licks whenever you sob and bites some more, all while his strong fingers knead your plumpness. And then it happens. You arch your back and wail up as his stimulation finally forces your breasts to tighten and throb. Liquid shoots into his mouth and down his throat. It is the sweetest taste he ever had on his tongue, intoxicating him beyond saving. Jungkook’s eyes roll back, he thinks that for a second he blacks out before he comes back to be totally guided by his instincts.

He gurgles and moans, sucking the sweet nectar from your right nipple while his fingers play with your left just to keep it ready for him. It is a messy business and whenever he changes sides, he has to lick up the mess he made before he can suck on your nipple. It is not a terrible fate. On the contrary, it’s heaven. For both. Jungkook has never felt this high before while you love his tongue on your body. He is so hot and soft, giving you the perfect contrast to the sharp bites his fangs give you.

“Kook oh god, Kook ah! Ah! A-ah!”

You spill tears, grabbing your own face to muffle yourself and make sense of what is happening to you. This is life altering. You are in a constant state of genuine orgasmic bliss and it doesn’t want to die down. You can literally feel how Jungkook sucks the liquid out of you, relieving you of the painful pressure as he does it. It helps so much, while at the same time making everything worse.

He might help you with the nectar of your breasts, but your body still keeps producing slick. And it is getting dangerously full inside you. Your panties feel like imprisonment to your cunt.

You twist a bundle of his hair, sobbing in ecstasy and desperation.

“Koo, I’m scared, it’s so good”, you sob, trembling.

Your touch motivates him. He is starving for you even though he is currently feasting on you. He seemed to have sucked you dry. No matter how much he bites and sucks, your nipples stay dry. The starvation remains. He needs more of you.

“More, give me more please”, he orders, growling his words between vigorous sucks.

“I, I can’t. Ah, Kook ah.”

“Fuck, I can’t stop. You’re so sweet.”

He can’t take a break, he needs more of you. He lets your scent guide him. It gets stronger and stronger, the closer he comes to your cunt. Don’t be mistaken however, it is not your pussy which calls him, but your inner thighs. Your scent glands to be more specific. Working overtime to produce your arousing smell and begging for attention. They are the most sensitive of your scent spots, but you don’t know that yet. You had men kiss you there before, but none of them were Jungkook. None were your mate.

Jungkook shoves your legs open and buries his face in your right thigh with a growl. His fingers dimple your softness, his fangs tickle your skin. Not long and he bites you.

Your entire body reacts to it. You tense and flinch as if he shocked you, letting out a howl of surprise. Your empty cunt aches, craving nothing more than him.

Jungkook lifts his head, eyes droopy and drugged and lips still glossy from your tits.

“Is like a drug. You is like a drug”, he lulls his words and drops his face back in your thigh. Your left one for a change. He kisses and licks it, grabbing your waist possessively. He holds you with such strength that he even manages to bring it in a little, forcing you to burn in a fire you were never in before.

“I fucking want you, fucking need you, fuck can’t get enough.”

“I’m so hot, I-I’m so hot.”

“So hot, so fucking soft. Fuck, your smell drives me insane.”

“Oh god, Kook. I’m so hot.”

The thing about omegas and heats is that it isn’t as common as one might think. Before an omega has reached maturity, heats obviously aren’t a thing. Afterwards, they are manageable when living with other family members. They feel more as if you were bad mooded and grumpy. You managed to sleep them off whenever they happened.

Burning in this unfamiliar fire as Jungkook repeatedly bites your sensitive scent spots makes you realize that perhaps you have never truly experienced a real heat before. Maybe it slumbers in an omega until they are with their true mate. Maybe the grumpy days are just nature’s way of saving the omega of embarrassing moments in front of family.

You can’t explain why you know, but this is it. This is the real deal. Jungkook stimulated your sensitive glands for long enough that he forces you to go into heat. It feels different from anything you have ever experienced, it even feels different from the thing you thought to be your heat when he was with you in the shed. You were wrong back then, this is it. This is the real thing.

And it scares you so much that you beg for him. He comes up when hearing your distraught, cradling your face. He is clearly far away, seeming changed as well. The only thing having forced him away from you is his stronger instinct of keeping you safe. His dark hair is a mess, his eyes are foggy.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he lulls his words.

“I’m, I’m in heat.”

“What? It can happen like this?”

“When you bit my scent spots, it made me…oh god, please make it stop please.”

“What, uhm, what do you need?”

“You. Please fuck me. I beg you.”

“Holy fuck, I-” Jungkook stops himself, growling deeply and twisting the pillow above your head, “something’s wrong with me. I’m losing control over myself.”

“Koo”, you croak, touching his chest. He is burning up, muscles swollen and tense. His heart races like crazy, unnaturally fast at that.

“What is happening to me?” he stresses.

“I don’t know.”

If only you and he knew that his accidental efforts of forcing you into heat, forced him into his ruts with you. If only you knew that these are the effects of being with your true mate. If only you knew that the only remedy is sex. But you don’t know and so you and he are fated to stumble through the unknown, still doing the right things because your instincts are stronger than anything else. It is as if your bodies do the talking without you and him having to speak their language yet. It is most certain that you will be fluent in it one day.

“I want to rip your panties off.”

"Please do.”

Jungkook gives in and does as he wants. He rips your panties off, throwing the thin piece of fabric over his shoulder. He rips off his own briefs next, discarding the fabric. His heavy, thick cock slaps your stomach. He is so big and swollen by now that he can barely stand up despite his hardened nature. His slick pools in your navel and smears all over your skin.

“Holy fuck, urgh fuck”, he drops his head in your neck, “it hurt so much to keep it in.”

“Kook, you’re so heavy.”

“I know, I’m so hard that I can’t keep it standing. I…” He lifts his head, cradling your cheek. “Say you want me.”

“I want you.”

Jungkook shifts his hips so his cock probes at your entrance. You whimper and open your legs widely, putting them around his meaty thighs.

“Just the tip”, he whispers.

“What? No”, you get out and pout.

Jungkook chuckles, cradling your cheek.

“You know, like last time.”

“Oh”, a giggle shakes you and makes your face glow.

He chuckles, soaking up the moment of honest happiness like a dried up sponge would water. Each time he hears your laugh, he falls more in love with you.

“Just the tip when it didn’t mean anything and we shouldn’t have done it.”

Your giggle changes into a sigh of his name. You gaze into his eyes, building soul consuming connection.

“Right?”

“Right.”

Jungkook allows his tip to fill you. Just enough to let you feel that he was finally there with you. You whimper, spilling tears of relief.

Jungkook wipes them, spilling his own tears. He loves you. This is it. The moment it is official that you are mates. And it happens exactly how he always dreamed it would. You under him, looking so vulnerable and safe as he can gaze into your eyes and see your face change in pleasure.

“This means everything to me”, he croaks out and buries himself inside you to the base. “Ah.” He twists the pillow.

“Oh god. Ah.”

“Too deep? Hurts?”

“No, it’s perfect. I feel, ah, I feel whole.”

Jungkook moans your name, eyes filling with emotion.

You touch his messy hair, scratching him behind his ear. Jungkook shivers, eyes threatening to roll back. You are stimulating one of his scent spots, forcing him deeper into his ruts.

“Okay. If you. Fuck. This is my scent spot. It feels. Ahm. I, I have to fuck you”, he struggles with his words, cock throbbing inside you as if it had his own pulse.

Throb. Throb. Throb.

He fills you with more of his slick each time he twitches. It tingles whenever he does.

“Please don’t hold back. Fuck me like you need to, please”, you whimper, shaking in agony. You tickle his scent spot especially good and it’s over for him.

Jungkook’s fingers slip from control. He can’t hold back anymore. He knows that you can take it.

He pulls out only to slam into you again in a deep, passionate rhythm. In and out. In and out. It is endless and harsh and feels so fucking good.

Your eyes instantly roll back and stay there. Your fingers dimple the nape of his neck as you clutch him for dear life. Jungkook himself can’t keep his eyes focused, gazing at you through a veil of blurriness.

“Is this good for you?” he gets out through gritted teeth.

“Good”, you wail, writhing in ecstasy.

“Fuck, I’m fucking high on you.”

He thought that he knew the feeling of your cunt but this is different. This actually forces him to listen to nothing but his instincts. He thought that he was out of control in the shed, but he wasn’t. This is it. You are so hot around him, so soft and you are filled with slick to the very brim. It is Jungkook’s task to fuck it out of you in heavy, strong thrusts, making a mess of your bodies and the sheets in the process. He isn’t aware of it yet but this gives you so much relief. You were bursting inside and now it is finally leaving you. There is no muscle in your body which isn’t currently puddy. Everything you exist for right now is to be fucked by him. There is no other sensation to you than that of his thick cock reshaping your insides.

“Baby, this is a lot. Holy fuck, this is argh”, Jungkook gets out, scrunching his face in anger. He wants to go deeper, but he can’t. It pisses him off, makes him want to break shit. He knows it’s this stupid position. Fucking good for nothing. Who thinks of something that unfavourable? (Jungkook will think back to this moment once he is clear in his head and wonder why he hated missionary so much.) But he hates it right now. He can’t even see himself inside you, his base is barely inside.

“More, I need more”, he growls and pulls out.

“No please, please it hurts please”, you instantly beg.

“Patient, I’m rearranging you.”

Jungkook takes your legs and guides them into a better position. You let him reshape you. This is what your body currently exists for and wants. It needs someone as strong and dominant as Jungkook to bend it to his will. Each second where he handles you feels like heaven.

He puts your legs over his shoulders.

“Hands.”

You obey, giving them to him. He puts them on your own thighs, squeezing them against the back of them.

“Hold them for me there. I want you to feel yourself shake.”

“Yes”, you whimper.

“Good omega. What a perfect thing you are”, he lulls and slides his hands to your ankles. He picks them off his shoulders and lifts them up. Like this, he opens you for him. Your butt is lifted off the sheets, your cunt instantly gushes out masses of slick.

“I can’t keep it in”, you confess.

“It’s good, baby. You don’t have to. Relax”, Jungkook assures you in a hungry whisper, eyes a deep gold and mesmerised by you. He moves his hips close and buries his heavy cock back in you.

You mewl, curling your toes. Slick drips onto the sheets as it makes space for his girthy length, you feel whole again.

“There we go, fuck”, Jungkook growls and bottoms out. He stays there for nothing but a second before he pulls out again to pick up a punishing rhythm.

It feels so good that your eyes roll back and you resort to moaning and wailing for him. Jungkook moans with you each time he is deep inside you. This finally scratches the itch. This is finally as deep as he can go. He can finally see himself inside you. Finally he can see how his thick cock reshapes your swollen cunt. He is so big and you take him so easily, moving and trembling around him as he repeatedly pounds you stupid. If you keep this up, he might get pussy drunk.

“I can’t take this. You’re so pretty. Is it good for you?”

“Yes. More, please.”

“You’re so perfect. Holy fuck”, he growls and throws your legs over his shoulders to hold your hips instead and pull you onto his cock each time he thrusts into you. You are tighter like this, jerking off his fat cock.

Your voice pitches and rises in volume. You were never fucked like this before. Your needs were never ever getting satisfied like this before. It is changing you and Jungkook makes it even better by taking your clit between his fingers to massage her. She is so swollen and big that he can jerk her off just a little, making you howl. Your hands drop from your thighs just so you can rip the sheets in your attempt to twist them.

You can’t take it. He makes you climax. It is so intense and fulfilling that your sensitive breasts leak again. You howl his name as it happens.

The scent of your sweet breasts and your pretty face sets off Jungkook.

“I have to. It happens”, he gets out and throws his head back. He moans loudly, falling victim to his orgasm. His toes curl for it, his tones stomach flinches.

And because you are currently in heat, existing for nothing but him, his seed sets you off again. It brings you back into this uncontrollable, intense state of bliss you experienced for the first time in the shed. It should be familiar to you by now, but it is not.

You cry and sob, knowing that you won’t be able to stop orgasming for as long as your body needs to.

Jungkook knots instantly, cursing so graphically that he is surprised himself.

“Baby, I can’t stop. I can’t, I’m sorry”, he chants panickedly, unable to stop his hips from rutting into you. It forces his knot to keep leaving you and then popping back inside. The stimulation is unlike anything he has ever felt before, making his toes cramp from curling them so harshly and his hips become even more violent.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, it feels so good. Stop me, I can’t stop it”, he apologises because you cry so much. He wants to stop hurting you but he can’t. His hips rut against his will.

“Don’t stop please. It feels so good”, you release him of his guilt, clenching down on him as he drills his knot back into you.

“What? You’re in no pain?”

“No pain. Oh god Koo, I’m cumming again…Ah!” You have to wail, squirting around his thick knot as he buries it inside you over and over again.

“Ah! This is the best sex I ever had, oh god”, Jungkook moans, arching his back.

The knot fucking burns so deep in such a good way. You are so empty without him, the breach is so intense and once he is inside again everything is well. Your pussy sounds so wet, squelching around his knot sinfully. This is seriously the best sex he ever had.

“It’s so good, I’m so high”, he growls, following your orgasm with his own. It is so unbearable to keep moving but his hips have a mind of their own. They keep rutting and fucking even through Jungkook’s shakes. “I can’t stop this. Holy fuck, urggghh.“

If you knew that your little stunt in the shed would lead to having your guts knot fucked by none other than Jeon Jungkook, you would have agreed to this bond sooner. Yup, we have reached the point of total acceptance of your situation. Fuck that his father didn’t howl. Fuck that you only married Jungkook because you were forced to. Fuck that this wasn’t meant to happen. This right now is everything which counts. It is making this entire situation right. It was meant to happen.

“Jungkook, I can’t stop”, you sob, grabbing for him helplessly.

“I know. I can’t either”, he gets out, holding your hands and pinning them above your head. Like this he is lying himself down on you, folding your willing body in half and burying his knotted cock so deep inside you that you feel him against your cervix. In your state, lost in heat and his seed, it is the highest level of pleasure he can give you. And you thank him with loud cries and your claws digging into his hands against their will.

His own claws come out to play. He angles his hands so they wouldn’t hurt you. Like this, your hands are under his’, shaking and twitching as he brings you over one edge after the other.

“I can’t stop. Jungkook please help me”, you wail.

“You’re safe. I’m here. Baby, I’m here”, he soothes you and shakes as he manages to bury his knot in you again. You are getting tighter and tighter and his knot more and more sensitive. “Urgh, baby you’re making me- ah!”

He loses control, pumping your belly full of his hot cum. Now that he is pressed against your cervix, his seed pushes its way right past it, giving you the feeling of being alive you so dearly craved. Of course it sets you off again, of course you cry as if you never had an orgasm before and experience it for the first time. Of course it sets him off again. Of course all of this is happening. It was meant to happen. Of course it was.

And as you cry and sob in relief and bliss, Jungkook can barely stop his claws from hurting you. He grew in size and strength. Your small, fragile body is in danger of being crushed under him.

He does what he needs to do. Jungkook grips the headboard, growling like a rabid animal. You are so stretched out, so lose around his knot. And so wet. He can’t stop fucking you with his creamy knot. It feels so good to have you struggle for a second but then take him happily. It feels even better because you moan with such ecstasy each time he drills it back into you.

Jungkook growls and grips the headboard tighter. And tighter. And tighter with each heavy thrust. With each of your moans. Tighter and tighter until suddenly it cracks loudly, breaking into two right under his hand. The bed gives up, forcing you to sink a good ten centimetres.

“What?” You squeak out, looking around you disoriented.

“Doesn’t matter. Look at me”, he dismisses it, cradling your cheek tenderly. One might never know that seconds ago he broke the bed with the same hand. “Look at me, only look at me.”

You look at him and fall back into the pleasure, having to orgasm instantly at the sight of him.

You wail for him, watching with blurry eyes as he orgasms as well.

His seed hits you in the deepest parts of you. He fucked you so sensitive that you can feel his thick vein pump it out of him. His knot trembles as it happens, bringing you to your blissed limits.

“Again.”

“Me too. If you- I- me too.”

His hips freeze as he is deep inside you. Your walls tighten and force his knot to stay inside you. He can’t move. It is happening to you as his seed drugs you, his knot does the rest. You can’t stop climaxing. It is finally happening.

Jungkook whimpers helplessly, dropping your legs and collapsing into you. Your limbs close around him, his own do the same with you. He is on top of you, but gravity forces him to fall to his side and take you with him. You are stuck together, shaking and flinching as your bodies are trapped in the most addicting state of being. You orgasm which sets him off, which sets you off and so on. You should know the drill, but it doesn’t get easier to bear. You drool and sob and moan, holding each other so close that you almost melt together.

Jungkook cries out as an especially strong high hits him, writhing helplessly which ends in your position changed. He is on his back, you serve as his warmest blanket. He hugs you so strongly, knotted cock shaking inside your tight walls. You drool all over his strong chest, feeling far away because you are so close to his scent glands. He smells like sex and ecstasy but also like safety.

It feels more intense than last time. This kind of knotting orgasm isn’t just sexual, it is also emotional. You want to be close and you are and it is ecstasy. There is enlightenment that what is happening to you only happens because you are with your true mate and this enlightenment makes the orgasms only this much more intense.

The sun is starting to rise once you and he finally come down. You are fucked raw and sore by now, crying into the crook of his neck.

“Holy fuck baby, urgh. I can’t do it again. I’m cramping”, he says, “sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m sore. Kook please I’m scared.”

“Don’t be, I’m here. Baby, my love. I can’t believe we did that”, he instantly falls into a love drunk, sappy state. He hugs you so tightly, feeling up your knotted pussy gently to soothe her.

“I don’t wanna be on top, please”, you beg, shivering.

“You’re safe, princess. I’m here”, Jungkook says and changes positions for you. Somehow in a mixture of his strength and your refusal to give up his knot, you and he end up in flipped positions. He is still inside you, keeping you bred and warm. All while he gives you warmth through his body, adoring you right with kisses all over your face and neck.

“I’m so proud. I’m so fucking proud. Holy fuck, I feel high. You did do well. Oh my pretty princess. My baby love”, he whispers between his loving kisses, hands caressing your sweaty, sore skin gently.

This is instinct as much as it is his heart’s desire. He wants to soothe you, adore you, bring you down gently after lifting you so fucking high. He isn’t aware of how important this is to you. You feel so vulnerable and emotionally sensitive. It would be the same thing if someone decided to start open heart surgery on your aware self. This is how vulnerable you feel and it is Jungkook who makes it okay. It is Jungkook who calms you down and reminds you that you are allowed to be sensitive because he is there to protect you.

“I can’t comprehend this. I feel high. Wow baby, wow. How do you feel?” he babbles.

“Vulnerable.”

“Oh baby, I know. I’m here. Your Kook is here”, he assures you, nuzzling his nose against your scent spot. He hopes that if he nuzzles it long enough, he can spread some of his relaxing scent on you.

It works. Of course it does because your bodies need no instructions to communicate. It is natural and right and makes you and him feel fuzzy.

You sigh. Jungkook smells the relief against your neck. He kisses a path to your face. Your glassy eyes await him, eagerly building connection once they can.

“Thank you”, you whisper.

“No, I have to thank you. This was the best bonding night ever.”

“No, thank you”, you insist, spilling tears

Jungkook wipes them, knowing that you want to tell him something.

“For what, princess?”

“For, for making me feel like this. I, I was never in heat like this. I didn’t know that I could and it makes me feel really vulnerable. But you’re so gentle with me and it’s so nice.”

His eyes soften. He whispers your name adoringly and kisses your forehead.

“I feel the same. This was my first rut ever. I didn’t think that it would be so intense.”

“Kook, I’m scared. I don’t know what this means.”

“Don’t be scared, I’m here.” He kisses your nose, stubbing you with his own afterwards. “We can ask someone about it, but all I know for now is that I don’t wanna fucking stop having you close.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He kisses your lips, making your heart race and feel at home. He breaks the kiss gently, giving you the fondest and warmest smile ever.

“I’m so proud of you. You did so well, my princess baby.”

“Oh wow”, you get out, having to giggle.

Jungkook giggles with you, smiling as he steals a cheeky kiss. Afterwards he sits up. He is still connected with you by your middles, making you gasp and shiver.

“Sorry, I shifted. Are you okay?”

“Yes, oh god. What is happening to me? I feel so comfortable.”

Jungkook smiles, caressing your sides. He can’t stop looking at you. Your breasts are normal again, natural victims to gravity and so soft. They are still messy and wet from what happened before but nothing new leaves you. Your belly is bloated from his seed and covered in a layer of sweat. No wonder you sweat so much, you were burning up. Jungkook dances his palms over your bloated stomach, furrowing his brows in emotion.

“So alive”, he whispers.

“So alive”, you sigh, placing your hand over his’.

“___”, he says and meets yours eyes.

“Yes?”

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I didn’t get to say it as we were doing it because I was dumb in pleasure, but you are so beautiful.”

“You think so?”

“I do. I can’t believe that you’re real and, and that you allow me to see you naked. I just”, he exhales shakily. “I’m just so happy”, he chokes out, throwing his hand over his eyes to hide his tears.

“Kook, don’t cry”, you gasp and pull him down to you. He falls to his elbows, allowing you to hold his hands above your head.

He is pouting and sniffling. You give him a smile.

“Don’t cry.”

“They’re happy tears. We’re bonded, I’m so happy”, he says and smiles through his pretty tears.

Your smile grows, you squeeze his hands. He was right when he said that you and he will get to know each and that it will be nice. You can feel it. You are right for each other. You are so right.

You put your legs around him and push him deeper again.

“Oh”, he gasps, squeezing your hands, “wo-oah this felt really intense”, his voice quivers as he speaks.

“It does”, you agree, rolling your hips up.

Jungkook gasps, “what are you doing?”

“I want more of you.”

“Really? Baby, you’re sore. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please. Be gentle. Please make love to me, Kook baby.”

Jungkook spills tears, whimpering your name. This is everything he ever wanted. He pulls out of your sensitive warmth to thrust into you.

Crack!

You and he scream in shock as the bed finally gives up completely and comes crashing down onto the ground. Jungkook keeps you safe with his arms around you and your head cradled against his chest.

You and he share a moment of shocked and disoriented silence before you break it.

“Oh my god”, you let out, breaking into loud, honest cackles. Jungkook looks at you, having to break into laughter as well.

“Did we just get cock blocked by the bed?”

“I think so. It might be my fault. I kinda broke it when I fucked you with my knot. Sorry.”

“Oh god, Kook.”

You laugh oh so loudly, throwing your head back for it.

Jungkook has to almost squeak as he laughs with you, heart bursting in his chest.

“This is so funny. Oh my god.”

“Yeah, it’s hilarious”, he agrees and goes in for a surprise kiss.

Your laugh cuts off, a gasp replaces it. Your eyes fall closed and your hands bury themselves in his soft hair. This kiss is emotional and it is deep. It has meaning. It is happy and filled with love. Jungkook lets you experience it to its fullest, ending it with a stub of his nose and a smile.

“I promise to fix it. I’ll add steel in the frame.”

“So you think we’ll break it again otherwise?”

“Yeah.” He laughs breathily, nodding his head. “If this is how it feels to be with you during stimulation induced heat, imagine how it will be once it’s your natural heat.”

You gulp, gazing at him dreamily. The rising sun shines on his face, making his skin glow golden.

“Koo, I think you need to heat proof this entire room”, you whisper, making him chuckle and nod his head.

“I will. I’ll make it safe and cozy. Shit baby, I can’t stop saying it. You’re so beautiful. The sun is shining on you and you’re so beautiful.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, looking at him shyly

“You’re beautiful too”, you whisper, making him blush.

“Wow, thanks”, he mumbles, scrunching his nose. He does a little shift to be closer to you. The bed croaks and punishes him for it by making the headboard drop. He catches it before it can fall on top of you

“Piece of shit bed.”

“Oh god”, you laugh “I think we need to take care of this mess first and then continue.”

“Yeah shit, I think you’re right. The bed’s out to get us.”

You laugh and snicker, kicking your feet happily. He chuckles and shoves the headboard to the side.

“Come on, let’s take a shower”, he says and picks you up.

You nuzzle into him, feeling beyond safe.

“Do you have snacks too? I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”

“Of course. You know what? First fact about me? I’m actually a really great cook.”

“You are?”

“Mhm, I’m also a total foodie. So if you wanna bribe me into snuggles, get me food and I’ll be the cuddliest boy ever.”

You snicker. It makes your heart flutter when he talks cute with you.

“Do you like food?” he asks.

“Yeah, I like food. It’s comfort.”

“Yeah, right. Do you like cooking together?”

“I never did it before.”

Jungkook holds you closer.

“Then I know what we’ll do. Shower and cook and I get to give you kisses. And later when you’re not sore anymore, I’ll make that gentle love to you. If you want me to.”

“Yeah, I want you to. This sounds so nice. Koo?”

“Yes, love?”

“It’s gonna be so easy for me to fall in love with you.”

“Wow, you. Urgh, you drive me crazy you”, he gets out through gritted teeth and presses you against the next best wall to attack your face and neck with tingling kisses.

You squeal his name, having to laugh in giddiness. It will not be the last time that you laugh because of him.

1K notes · View notes

colormepurplex2 · 20 days ago

Text

Golden Cufflinks | JJK

▻ Golden Cufflinks ↳ Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader ⤜ Best Friend's Fiance, Strangers to True Mates ⤜ A/B/O AU | angst, smut, fluff ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 11,742 ⤜ Summary: You’ve never given much thought to finding your true mate, firmly believing it’s something that will happen when it happens. But, when you do find him—thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks—it very well could ruin everything. They say not all’s fair in love and war; you just hadn’t expected your best friend’s wedding to be the battleground. ⚠️ Crass language, talk of designation hierarchy, mild talk of misogynistic practices of the past, confessions of cheating(not by main pairing), anger/arguments, kissing, dick sucking, mild cum intrigue, maybe mild breeding kink if you squint, unprotected v. sex, knotting, lots of slick and cum

Written for @hisunshiine as part of the 2nd Quarter 2023 @bangtanwritershq Awards Season! A/N: Congratualtions, Vanessa. You deserve all the kudos for a job well done during the 2nd Quarter 2023, I hope you enjoy the story!

A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi, @lo1k-diamonds, @moonleeai for the amazing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

Nerves flutter in your belly as you gather your belongings from the plastic bin at the end of the rolling conveyor belt on the other side of security. As you walk away, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you have to juggle your purse and jacket to retrieve it.

You feel bad for making Hayun, your best friend for as long as you can remember, wait for a response, but you desperately just want to find your gate and have a seat first. Once you find it and settle in at a chair by the big windows looking out on the tarmac, you thumb to her contact.

“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d probably hate you right now for making me wait so long for a response,” Hayun sasses before her voice softens, “Hello, I love you.”

“Love you, too, girl,” you say, unable to help the smile that tilts your lips up. “Sorry, I’ve been MIA for the last few hours. Things have been hectic. I misplaced my passport this morning, but I finally found it under the bed and then missed the hotel shuttle. I had to call a rideshare, but of course, it took them forever to get through airport traffic, and ugh…” you trail off with a sigh. “I’m sitting down for the first time since I woke up this morning.”

Which was approximately four hours ago at this point. Your flight is set to take off less than an hour from now, so you imagine boarding might start soon. You’re not exaggerating when you say it’s been hectic. It was bad enough waking up at 3 AM, but you’re a chronic planner and stickler for time, so missing your flight was the absolute last thing you wanted to happen.

“Oh, babe, that sucks. I’m glad it’s all worked out, though. I really can’t wait to see you!”

The conversation passes quickly, easing your heart and mind as you catch up on the last twenty-four hours. You haven’t seen Hayun in a handful of years. Her career took her to the other side of the world, and yours kept you where you both grew up. The last time you saw her was through a haze of tears at this very airport when she boarded a plane destined for Seoul, South Korea, where she was adopted from at just two years old.

Visiting each other was always something you both talked about. But, as with most things, life just happens, and eventually, you find yourself making that visit you always talked about for reasons you never considered before—like your best friend tying the knot with a guy you’ve never met.

Sure, you’ve seen pictures of him and have heard him talk in the background of most of the phone calls you’ve exchanged with Hayun over the last few years. But, it was never on your friendship bingo card that the next time you’d find yourself seeing your best friend, it would be her at her wedding.

“I gotta go. They’re about to start boarding.”

“I’ll see you when you land. Can’t wait!”

Hayun disconnects the call, and you gather your belongings to prepare to line up in the boarding queue. It will be a long flight, but seeing Hayun again after so long apart will be worth it.

You fiddle with the bracelet on your left wrist, twisting and pinching at the silver moon charm dangling from the thin chain. Hayun has a matching one. They were presents from your parents on the day you were both recognized with your designations; she was thirteen, and you were fifteen.

The dynamics of Alphas and Omegas have long since changed from what it once was. Legend has it that once upon a time, an Alpha and an Omega were closer to their wolf-kin than how the world is now. Thanks to evolution and science, the only things remaining from that time are the more basic bodily functions—scents, knots, and slick, to sum it up.

The crescent charm on your wrist symbolizes your designation—Omega. But being an Omega doesn’t hold much meaning for you. You don’t feel all that special, and it’s not like you’re rare or any more or less capable than the next person. As it stands, you can see at least a dozen other moons jangling from bracelets, waiting to board the same plane you are.

There are also necklaces, tattoos, and other ways to display a designation scattered around the waiting area. The how of it is mostly regional, sometimes generational. The Beta standing behind you in the queue has a teardrop earring dangling from their left ear, and if it weren’t for the pheromone blockers you took this morning, you might be able to smell their unique scent.

You also have your own smell, a scent that is just you. You’ve been told it’s a sweet, citrusy bouquet like lemonade on a hot summer afternoon. However, also thanks to the blockers, it remains suppressed to the point someone would have to make you bleed or press their nose so firmly against your throat it hurts to smell it.

There really is only one thing that a lot of people are envious of when it comes to an Omega’s designation, and that is that they supposedly have an Alpha true mate out there somewhere that will call to their baser nature. It’s such a rare phenomenon these days that it might as well be part of the legends of old, too.

The bottom line is that no one cares about subgenders anymore; it doesn't matter whether your charm is the Omega crescent, the teardrop of a Beta, or the triskelion denoting an Alpha. In fact, you’re pretty sure you could ask the Beta for their earring and offer them your charm bracelet and no one would bat an eye over it.

Though you’d never do that, considering the chain around your wrist isn’t technically yours. The night after you presented as Omega, when you snuck away with Hayun to lay on a blanket under the stars and moon that was so like the charm hanging from your twin bracelets, you giggled as you exchanged them. Her tiny fingers trembled against your wrist as she secured her silver chain around it. You did the same with your own around hers a second later.

It was that night that you both swore always to be friends. No matter what happened in life or where either of you ended up, you would always remain true to one another. So far, your friendship has been unfailing, a constant thread of comfort and light for you both. No matter how long it’s been, the charm still smells faintly of your best friend—a perk of the charms themselves, holding a token essence of their owners. Hers holds a soft lilac and jasmine scent that you’ve always thought complimented your own citrus notes.

The flight attendant scanning boarding passes beckoning you forward breaks you out of your internal reflections. With a full heart and giddy anticipation curling in your belly, you find your seat and settle in.

It’s a long flight, longer than most flights you’ve taken. But when you finally walk off the plane, make it through customs and immigration, and finally empty into the arrivals terminal of the Incheon Airport, you feel immediate relief, and the hours spent in the air don’t seem so bad.

“Hey, over here!” a familiar voice calls out, catching your attention.

You spin on your heel, confusion setting in for just a moment before it’s replaced by another wave of relief and a little of something warmer. Taehyung, Hayun’s adopted brother, swamps you in a giant bear hug that quite literally sweeps you off of your feet.

“Wow, hey. This is a surprise. What are you doing here? Where’s Hayun?”

Taehyung scrunches up his face, letting out a small scoff. “It’s a good surprise, I hope. Something came up, and she had to meet with the wedding planner and caterer at the last minute. She called me and asked if I could pick you up.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah,” you confirm with a smile. “Good surprise.”

It’s no secret that you’ve always been fond of Taehyung. As a baby, you were toddling around with him long before his family adopted Hayun. She ended up being the sister you never knew you needed, even if you were a few years older.

When she moved to Seoul for work, Taehyung ended up being the physical representation that took her place. He flew out a week before you to help her with planning and will stay for a few weeks after you’ve already headed back home. They may have had their differences over the years, but their sibling bond is stronger than petty arguments and rivalries.

“Ready to get on the road? It’s a long drive.”

Hours later, with the rolling countryside and farms dotting the horizon, you discover the fiasco inside your backpack. The bottle of pheromone blockers you packed this morning somehow got shuffled to the bottom of your bag and popped open. The once-powder-filled capsules litter the bottom of your bag, broken open. Pale blue powder coats your things, the mild flower smell of the medicine lingering in the air.

“Fucking hell,” you groan. “Any chance there’s a clinic somewhere between here and where we’re going?”

“Unfortunately, no.” He frowns, drumming his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, making the triskelion signet ring on his index finger glitter in the mid-day sun. “We’d probably have to turn around and head nearly three hours back to get anywhere near a clinic with blockers. I'm told most people don’t use them anymore these days here. Maybe another one of the wedding party might have some you could borrow if you really need them. But, honestly, I don’t see anyone minding if you don’t use them.”

“Most people here don’t use them anymore?”

“Well, yeah, with the progression of equality and things like that. They’re so great here, way more progressive than back home. It’s very common for Omegas to go off of blockers or never even begin them. Laws have been implemented to punish Alphas who can’t control themselves. The responsibility of remaining safe shouldn’t be solely set on the shoulders of the Omega population.”

Talk like that has only recently become popular back home. You’ve heard the speeches and followed the media and the sources, but you suppose after nearly half of your life taking blockers, it just comes naturally to continue to do so.

“Hm, yeah, okay. I guess it’s no big deal, really. As long as you’re sure people won’t mind?”

Taehyung sniffs the air, his nose twitching. “I think you smell great, but just in case not everyone does, if someone says something, then I’ll personally drive all the way back to the city and pick you up some,” Taehyung promises, giving you one of his swoon-worthy smiles.

The crush you once upon a time had on Taehyung threatens to spark anew at the sight of his charming, boxy grin—a grin you would have once done anything to pull from him. But now, it just fills you with warmth and a homey comfort.

You give him a smile of your own. “Deal.”

“Hayun!”

Her squeal of delight when she turns around and catches sight of you echoes through the open space of the dimly lit bar of the bed and breakfast where the wedding is taking place.

It’s a cozy space with rich dark wood accents and royal blue velvet upholstery. Brass gas lamps and light fixtures give the entire lounge an upscale and chic atmosphere that you know is right up Hayun’s alley.

The few hours you had between checking in at the bed and breakfast and meeting Hayun for her very small—just you and one other person—bachelorette party were spent familiarizing yourself with the grounds.

The ceremony will take place in one of the lavish gardens, and the reception will follow in one of the grand dining halls. For a bed and breakfast, it’s far fancier than any you’ve ever been to. It definitely does not have the mom-and-pop feel that you typically associate with the term ‘B&B’.

“You’re here!” she shrills, throwing her arms around your neck.

Her petite form fits just like it always has against yours. Thick black hair, shorter than the last time you saw it, curls around the rounded lines of her cheeks, and her brown eyes are bright and glisten with happy tears. With her bubbly personality and small, wispy frame, she's always reminded you of a fairy.

You sigh, taking a deep breath and savoring your best friend's soft, floral scent. Thanks to the bracelet tinkling around her wrist, it holds the smallest undercurrent of your sweet citrus. Clearly, she’s not taking blockers; the scents are heavy and delightful. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Hayun sucks in a deep breath that mirrors yours. “Wow, babe, you smell good! Finally gone off the blockers, huh?”

“Uh, kind of,” you chuckle, untangling yourself from her arms. “I brought some, but they broke open in my bag at some point.” You shrug. “Tae said it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

“Oh, it’s not. Absolutely not,” Hayun agrees, grinning broadly. “I’ve been off them for years and haven’t had a single issue. Come on, let’s have a drink and catch up!”

You settle in at a table, and it’s not long before Eunseo, Hayun’s other guest, joins you. You’ve heard a lot about Eunseo. Much the same way Taehyung took the place of Hayun for you, Eunseo took your place for Hayun. You half expect to feel some sort of friendship jealousy upon meeting Eunseo for the first time, but it doesn’t come. If anything, you’re immediately fond of the young woman.

The evening carries on, Hayun and Eunseo regaling you with tales from working together and their various adventures around Seoul. Eunseo shows genuine interest in your life back home, seeming eager to hear stories of Hayun’s childhood. She shows a particular interest in Taehyung, asking you in no certain terms more than you think is appropriate to share.

“But you’ve seen it, right?” Eunseo asks. Her elbows rest on the table, and her chin is nestled on her clasped hands, her eyes wide and glassy from the countless glasses of wine she’s had. “I bet it’s huge. Am I right?”

“Ugh,” Hayun groans. “Can we not talk about my brother’s dick. Please.” She makes a gagging sound before slurping down the rest of her cocktail and flagging down a passing waiter for another.

You try to wave off the waiter, but he’s turned toward the bar before you can get his attention. If Hayun has much more to drink, you’re not sure she’ll be able to walk down the aisle tomorrow unassisted.

“I’m just curious. It’s a harmless question,” Eunseo pouts. “Ignore her. Tell me. I just have to know.”

You swirl the straw around in your glass of water before giving Eunseo what you hope is a conspiratorial look. “Well—”

“What?! Ew. Are you really about to answer her? Please, dear god, do not tell me you have seen my brother’s penis. If you’ve seen it—fuck, I might actually puke.”

As much as you probably shouldn’t, you laugh, which earns further protests and obscene noises from Hayun.

“Before you interrupted me, I was going to say that maybe Eunseo should ask him herself.”

Hayun howls a protest, sloshing her new cocktail onto the table as she gesticulates a crude hand gesture in your direction. “Do not. I repeat, do not do that, Eunseo!”

The conversation peters off, Hayun losing herself in another cocktail while Eunseo stares dreamily up at the ceiling.

“I think—hiccup—it's bedtime,” Eunseo slurs.

As if right on cue, a familiar face peeks through the entrance to the lounge. You wave Taehyung down, and he comes jogging across the space to your table. His shirt is rumpled with the top few buttons undone, but his eyes are clear, and you know he’ll be a perfect gentleman.

“Are you sure?” you ask him, pitching your voice low.

“I got this, don’t worry. We finished up a few hours ago anyway.”

Taehyung gives you a warm, private smile before turning to Eunseo. “Hey there, beautiful. Let’s get you on to bed, okay?”

“Where’s my savior?” Hayun asks, frowning after her brother escorting Eunseo from the lounge and back through the front lobby.

“Right here,” you tell her, sliding out of your chair and coming around to her side of the table. “Come on, let’s go.”

It takes you more than twice as long as it usually would to get to Hayun’s room. She leans against the wall in the hall as you dig through her pockets in search of her room key. Once you find it tucked between a few stray bills and her ID, you usher her into the room and deposit her onto the bed.

Her fiance has a room on the other side of the grounds, but after the ceremony, they will both be moving into one of the couple’s suites for the night before jet-setting off to Jeju Island for their week-long honeymoon.

“Am I doing the right thing?”

Hayun’s question catches you off guard. You throw a confused look at her over your shoulder as you rummage through her suitcase in search of something for her to sleep in.

“What?”

She sighs as she rolls over, letting her head hang off the edge of the bed so she can look at you upside down. “Marrying Jungkook. It’s a mistake…so why am I doing it?”

“Hayun…what are you talking about? Jungkook is perfect for you. You guys have been dating for five years, and you told me you’ve never been happier. Where’s the mistake in that?”

The sound Hayun makes is akin to something a wounded animal might make. She flops, flailing her arms and legs like a child throwing a fit.

“That’s the thing, though! I’m happy, but I don’t love him. Oh god,” she cries. “I don’t love him.”

“Hey, hey now.” You abandon the search for sleeping clothes and crawl across the floor until you’re kneeling beside the bed. Smoothing your hand across her forehead, you ask, “Where is all this coming from?”

“He thinks I’m his true mate,” she whispers. The tears leaking from her eyes slide up her face, wetting the edges of her eyebrows before sliding over her forehead and disappearing into her hair. “But I know he’s not mine.”

“Wh—wait, what?” You push up from the floor and move onto the bed, gathering your best friend’s head into your lap so she’s no longer hanging upside down off the side of the bed.

She hiccups a sob, lips trembling as she explains, “He says I’m his true mate, that he knows because of my scent. But he doesn’t smell special to me…how is that possible?”

“Hayun, I don’t—”

“I cheated on him,” she whimpers in confession, cutting off what were going to be your soothing words of affirmation. They sour on your tongue, refusing to be released now.

Your stomach churns at her admittance. “You what?”

“You have every right to judge me. I’m a terrible person. But, when he told me I was his true mate…I panicked. I had to be sure I wasn’t broken, that me not finding his scent special wasn’t just something wrong with me.” Hayun blinks rapidly, trying to clear the tears as they begin to come in earnest. She clutches at the front of her shirt, hand fisting over her heart. “So, I slept with two Alphas that I work with to see if it was any different. I had to be sure. I had to know.”

“Hayun, I-I-I don’t…I’m not—”

“I’m such a fucking mess,” she sobs, curling in on you and pressing her face against your stomach. “I don’t deserve him. I only said yes to marrying him because I don’t want to be alone forever. I can’t be like you. I need someone.”

Her words sting, causing you to flinch involuntarily. You watch as she falls apart in your lap, ultimately giving in to her grief. It’s on the tip of your tongue to call her out on her childish behavior, to set the record straight about your own love life, and to leave her to her wallowing. But…the shaking of her shoulders and soft whines from her remind you so much of a younger and more fragile Hayun—the Hayun of your shared childhoods.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” No matter how you might feel about her actions and the hurtful words she’s spilled, you hate to see your best friend so distraught and broken. “Hey, look at me.”

You wait until her watery eyes peel away from your shirt and meet yours. “Tell me you hate me; it’s okay.”

“Hayun, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. You made…a mistake, that’s all. You were trying to figure things out. But…Hayun, you…you have to tell him.”

She frowns up at you, her expression sobering. “Tell him?”

“He’s about to marry you, Hayun. That’s a big freaking deal…you have to tell him tomorrow morning before anything else happens.”

The laugh that bubbles from her lips is anything but humorous. “I-I can’t do that! He’ll hate me. He’ll call the wedding off!” She shoves out of your lap and stares at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“If Jungkook truly loves you and says you’re his true mate, I don’t see that happening. But, he deserves to know. You have to know that. Either you tell him now, or he finds out years from now, and then it’ll be so much worse,” you try to reason with her.

“He doesn’t have to know!” she whisper-yells, her tears turning from sad to angry in an instant.

You shake your head, unable to believe what you’re hearing from her. “This isn’t right, Hayun. You can’t go into a marriage with someone with secrets like that!”

“It’s not like it’ll happen again. I’m not going to cheat on him while we’re married. Please,” she begs, her face once more softening into saddened anguish. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“He deserves to know, Hayun,” you whisper, remembering your own keen sting of betrayal from many years ago. There is a reason you don’t date much. “You say it won’t happen again?” you ask, trying to buy yourself some time to process everything Hayun just told you.

Her silence is deafening, and you think she’s about to not answer you the way you hope, but, finally, she murmurs, “No. Never. I swear it.”

“Okay. Okay, good. But, he still needs to know.”

Just because you’ve never actually met Jungkook, it doesn’t mean you don’t care for him. He’s the one who puts a smile on Hayun’s face when you can’t. He’s the reason she’s as happy as she is…or has been? Now, you’re not so sure. But, what you are certain about is that Hayun is far too drunk right now to know up from down and is just having a moment of raw vulnerability.

“Are you going to tell him?” she asks, voice a hoarse whisper.

You chew your bottom lip for a moment before slowly shaking your head. Thinking about it, even if you didn’t care for Jungkook, he still deserves to know on pure principle. “No. I won’t tell him.” She lets out a soft sigh of relief, which has you tacking on, “Because it’s not my place to tell him, it’s yours.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles. “Okay.” She doesn’t say anything more beyond that, falling into a listless stupor, all of her energy sapped from the quick argument and endless cocktails from the bar.

After you wrestle her out of her clothes and put on a long nightgown, she tucks easily into bed. You leave a glass of water on the bedside table for her, then exit the room and head to your own.

A pang of uncertainty refuses to quell in the pit of your stomach. You toss and turn most of the night, falling into a fitful sleep just before the sun begins to kiss the horizon. It’s going to be a long day…a battle of wills you never saw coming.

🥀🥀🥀

Jungkook

Today is the big day, and Jungkook couldn’t be happier. Nothing could possibly bring him down from the high he’s feeling. Not even the fact that he is unable to find the cufflinks that were passed down to him by his father.

“Did you check the pockets of all your pants?” Jimin, Jungkook’s best friend, asks from where he’s lounging in one of the chairs on the other side of Jungkook’s hotel room.

“Yes,” he mutters, dumping his entire suitcase onto the bed to rifle through it once again. “I remember putting them with the pile of Hayun’s—oh fuck.”

“That’s great,” Taehyung sighs. “So my sister probably has them.” He checks his watch. “We don’t really have time to go on a scavenger hunt through her room. Jimin and I are supposed to meet the photographer to get started on some of the bride and groomsmen shots.”

Jungkook purses his lips and rakes his hands through his hair as he thinks of a solution. “I’d go look myself, but what if I run into Hayun between here and there? She specifically requested that we not see each other until the ceremony.”

Taehyung hums lightly. “I think I have an idea. The other girls don’t meet for pictures until after we’re done. So…yeah…okay…done,” he murmurs, tapping away at his phone screen. “If they’re in Hayun’s things, they’ll be delivered to you soon.”

“Thanks, Taehyung, you’re a lifesaver.”

Minutes later, Jungkook finds himself alone, Taehyung and Jimin having gone to meet with the photographer. Somewhere out there, beyond the confines of his room, his fiancee is probably smiling and laughing as she poses in front of the camera. If only Jungkook could see through walls. He’d give anything for even just a little glimpse of his bride-to-be.

When Jungkook first met Hayun almost six years ago, he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to track her scent. The meeting he was heading for was instantly forgotten, replaced by a visceral need to discover the source of that titillating aroma that had his hindbrain firing on all cylinders.

Never before had Jungkook experienced something so…primal. It was both alarming and utterly fascinating. Amongst the harsh scents of car exhaust and the warm notes of roasted coffee, Jungkook wove his way through the crowd on the sidewalk to the doors of a little cafe; Hayun was inside, ordering a matcha tea to-go, and the rest was history.

Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to stop daydreaming and fiddling with his shirt's empty cuffs and focus on putting together the rest of his suit.

The scent hits Jungkook a moment before the sound of a soft knock reaches his ears. He’s standing in the ensuite bathroom, mid-skin care routine. Wiping his wet fingers off onto a towel, he draws in a deep breath to confirm the aroma wafting to him from beyond the door of his room.

A roguish smirk quirks up one side of his mouth as he exits the bathroom and moves across the room. Unable to help himself, he opens the door. “Hayun,” he chuckles, fingers wrapping around the doorknob, “I thought we agreed that you…you are not Hayun.” The words tumble from his suddenly numb lips, rasping past his too-dry tongue.

“Umm, no. Not Hayun, sorry. You’re Jungkook?”

The woman standing before him is clearly not his fiancee. The woman’s purple gown is familiar, Jungkook knowing it’s what Hayun chose for her attending party. You’re a friend of Hayun, clearly, yet you smell exactly like Hayun…if Hayun smelled like Hayun times a thousand. The fragrance slams into his olfactory system, and the edges of his vision grow blurry a moment before he shakes his head and steadies himself with a hand on the doorjamb.

“Yeah,” he whispers, voice raspy with his suddenly dry throat. Revelations pounding him right between the eyes, washing through his body and keying right into his most basic of instincts.

Jungkook watches as your nostrils flare, and he knows it’s in that moment that you register his cedar and lavadin scent; the scent that marks him for what—who—he is.

“Jungkook,” you repeat his name, and he wants to howl with delight at how it sounds coming from your lips. “No. You can’t…it’s not—” your voice cuts off a second before you drop the small, black leather box you were holding and turn, disappearing in a flash of violet tulle and silk.

🥀🥀🥀

“Stop! Wait, please!” The shout of your name follows you down the hall, but you’re too focused on getting as far away from him and the feelings threatening to overwhelm you as you can.

“No, no, no,” you chant under your breath as you move as swiftly as the slippered feet will allow you to go without tripping yourself up.

It’s clearly not fast enough. It only takes a few frantic beats of your heart before a firm grip on your elbow draws you to a stumbling halt. The touch is electric, and your skin flushes with goosebumps at the heated contact.

“Don’t run,” Jungkook pants. “Please.”

You wretch your arm from his grip and whirl on him, a sharp remark ready on the tip of your tongue. Only, it dies there, never to be uttered, as your heart thumps violently in response to the look on his face—pure anguish.

Your voice is thread-thin as you finally manage to get words out, “This can’t be happening.”

Jungkook’s brow twitches, his lips tucked between his teeth. His emotions are stark on his face, and the conflict is raw and bare to you. Clearly, he’s warring the same as you, maybe even more so.

“Why do you smell like Hayun?” he asks, his voice soft in contrast to the raging storm you see in his eyes. “Why do you smell more like my true mate than she even does? Is this some wicked, cruel prank?”

You shake your head, intentionally drawing a breath through your mouth in hopes of saving your nose from another assault of his perfect scent. But, instead, his flavor laces over your tongue and slides down your throat to sit like a knot in your belly. You might as well have licked a stripe up his neck for all the good that did.

“I-I don’t know,” you choke out, trying to keep the pool of saliva under your tongue from dripping down your chin.

Jungkook steps closer to you, leading with his nose. He sniffs the air around you and something must not sit well with what he discovers because he rears back and bares his teeth. “Of course,” he mutters as his eyes drop to your left wrist.

Your eyes track his movement as he scoops up your wrist in a loose grip, and you realize it’s the bracelet there that has his attention. Everything clicks into place, and you feel like the faintest breeze could sweep you away with how lightheaded you’re feeling at this moment.

“We traded,” you whisper as if speaking low enough means the admission won’t utterly destroy the world as you know it.

“She’s not my true mate,” he states, voice as low as yours, fevered and quiet. “You are.”

Those words punch you in the chest, nearly taking you to your knees. If it weren’t for the hold Jungkook has on your wrist, you’re sure you’d be in a heap on the floor. As it is, he catches his other arm around your waist as you sway on the spot.

“Y-you shouldn’t.” Your protest is stilted, the words feeling robotic and unnatural as you gingerly press a hand against the arm that’s angled around your ribs. It was your intention to push his touch away, but the most you accomplish is flexing your fingers against the smooth cotton covering his thick bicep.

Somehow, you find yourself back in the room you had fled from just a few minutes ago. Jungkook settled you on the bed and is now pressing a chilled water bottle into your hands.

He kneels before you, headless of putting wrinkles in his black dress slacks. He’s wearing a thin white undershirt, his starched white button-up undone over it. The cuffs of the sleeves flop as he brings his hands into his lap and picks at the edges of his thumbnails.

Your eyes rove the room, catching on the black leather box still sitting on the floor by the door where you dropped it. Inside the box is nestled a pair of golden cufflinks—a pair you now understand have been passed down through the generations of Jeon men.

Absently, you press your thumb to your phone, unlocking it to reveal the text message that has irrevocably changed your life forever.

If you had known Taehyung’s text message requesting help would have led you to where you are right now, you’d probably have ignored it.

Yet, at the same time, if you had, you’d probably have had this revelation with Jungkook in the middle of the ceremony, and it would have caused all sorts of untoward chaos. No, it’s far better that it’s happening now instead of later. Maybe you can get ahead of this and fix it somehow. Though…

“Hey? You okay?” Jungkook interrupts your thoughts. “Fuck, that’s a stupid question. Sorry.”

“Huh? Oh. Umm…yeah. I don’t—what do we do now?” You turn your phone over, finger ghosting over the power button to lock the screen once more.

Jungkook sighs, and you can’t help watching the rise and fall of his shoulders, framing the swell of his defined chest with the action. He’s an exquisite specimen of masculinity, and even if it weren’t for the musky notes of his scent that mark him as your true mate, you’d find him devastatingly attractive.

“We need to tell Hayun. I c-can’t…I can’t marry her. Not when I’ve found—” he cuts off, wincing as his voice breaks. “I should go and find her. Now, before this can go any further. I’m sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll find you later, okay?”

“Wait,” you call after him. He stops halfway to the door and glances back at you over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t we tell her together?”

Jungkook chews the inside of his cheek a moment, his eyes flicking over your face as he thinks through your suggestion. Slowly, he nods. “Yeah, maybe that’s for the best.”

There is palpable tension between you and Jungkook as you follow behind him out of the main building. He texted Jimin, knowing he’d be the most reliable with his phone on him, asking where the photos were currently taking place.

It only took a few minutes for Jimin to respond that they were almost finished but were currently capturing some group shots on the walking path by the lake on the backside of the property.

You’re vaguely aware of where the lake is located, having given the map of the grounds that was posted on the backside of your room’s door a cursory look the day you arrived. It’s a relatively short distance, yet it feels like miles with the weight of pure dread sitting firmly on your shoulders.

At least it’s not a feeling you’re experiencing alone. Jungkook is right there with you, and you can clearly see the unease in the stiff way his body moves. The tips of his fingers twitch back in your direction every few steps like he’s fighting off the urge to slip them between your own.

The first person you catch sight of is Yoona, the photographer. She’s squatting in the grass, her large DSLR camera held up to her face, as she captures candid moments of Hayun, Taehyung, and Jimin repositioning themselves along the lake's edge.

Your heart squeezes hard at how beautiful Hayun is in her form-fitting silk ivory, off-the-shoulder wedding gown, the lacy bell sleeves fluttering around her hands. Her head is thrown back, the peel of her carefree laughter carrying to you and further crumbling your soul into a million pieces. You ache, not just for the desire to draw closer to your true mate, but for the inevitable aftermath of what is about to happen.

Taehyung is the first to notice you and Jungkook. The smile on his face slowly disappears, replaced by a concerned frown. Hayun catches his expression and follows his line of sight. Her gaze sears into you, and you feel like you might combust into a cloud of ash at any second with the irritation contained in her pretty brown eyes.

“What’s going on?” Hayun exclaims, throwing her hands up in a frustrated manner as she stalks towards you and Jungkook. “It’s not time for your photos yet,” she tells you before her eyes swing to Jungkook. “What happened to not seeing me before the wedding? That was your rule!”

“Hayun, we need to talk.”

“Talk about wh—” she cuts off, her question turning into a gasp. Your wide eyes flick to you. “You told him?”

“What? No!”

Your protest rings out at the same time that Jungkook says, “She’s my true mate.”

A breeze kicks up, sweeping from behind you and tossing errant strands of hair across Hayun’s forehead. You’d give anything for the power to pluck the wind from the air, shove it back…keep it from showering her with yours and Jungkook’s combined scents—a blatant confirmation echoing the words Jungkook just let loose.

Hayun stiffens. Her jaw goes rigid, and her face pales as her nostrils flare. It’s a moment that will be forever written across the band of your friendship. Betrayal flashes through her eyes before morphing into something akin to somber resignation.

“Hayun,” Jungkook begins. “I don’t—we didn’t…I’m sorry. What do we do?” He spreads his hands out in front of himself in a helpless manner.

By this time, Jimin and Taehyung have come up from behind Hayun, faces wary as they take in the scene with growing clarity. You look to Taehyung, hoping he can see the silent plea in your eyes.

“Explain,” Hayun says simply. Despite how collected she seems, you can see the subtle tremble in her hands and the way the muscles in her neck continue to flex and strain as she clenches and grinds her teeth.

Jungkook launches into recounting the events that brought you to his room and broke the proverbial dam. “We—we had no idea. I swear this is the first time we’ve ever met, and gods, the bracelets…” Jungkook trails off, a pained sound rumbling from his chest.

“Is this a joke?” Taehyung asks accusingly, and it’s like a barb to your heart.

“We wouldn’t do that.” Your croaked statement draws Hayun’s attention.

Hayun sniffles, her chin jerking a little higher into the air. “My nose tells me one thing, but my heart tells me another. Did you know about this last night? Is that why you pushed so hard for me to tell him?” The last part is whispered, meant only for you, which hurts even more.

“Hayun, no! You know that’s impossible. I couldn’t have known.”

“Tell me what?” Jungkook asks, having heard despite her whisper, his eyes swiveling between you and Hayun.

You shake your head at him, not wanting to throw further fuel on the fire. “Hayun, please, believe me.”

A pregnant moment full of thick tension passes before it fizzles, and Hayun shakes her head, not in a dismissive fashion but in gentle acceptance. “I believe you,” she tells you. “I guess…I guess there won’t be a wedding in four hours unless you two want…” She trails off, a bittersweet smile tugging at her cherry red painted lips.

Jungkook blanches, wide eyes landing on you. “What? Us? No. I mean, sorry…but—”

Hayun holds up her hand, quelling Jungkook’s flustered response. “I was teasing, Koo, trying to lighten the mood. Um,” she pauses, absently twisting the diamond engagement ring around her finger before slowly slipping it off and closing a fist around it. “Can we talk, though? There’s something I needed to tell you today anyway.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says wearily.

“Tae, do you mind…?” Hayun asks, not even having to fill in the blanks. Her brother instantly steps into his role as protector and savior.

“Don’t worry about anything. I’ll make some phone calls,” Taehyung assures her before grabbing Jimin’s arm and starting back down the walking path.

“I’ll just—” you thumb over your shoulder in the direction Tae and Jimin just disappeared in “—be in my room.”

“Wait,” Hayun calls, pulling your retreat up short. “Come here.” She opens her arms, her hands opening and closing in grabby motions. “Please.”

A sob cracks from your throat as you throw yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her neck. “I’m so sorry, Hayun. I’m so sorry.”

“Hush. None of that. This isn’t anything we could have predicted or stopped from happening. If anything, maybe this is life’s way of getting back at me for what I did to him,” she whispers in your ear. “This is how it’s meant to be.”

Hayun smoothes a hand over your back and releases you. She steps back, using the back of a finger to lift the tears from your cheeks, and gives you a watery smile.

You’re not sure you can speak without completely losing yourself, so you just give her a tight nod and continue back on your way down the path. A part of you wants to hear what she has to say to Jungkook, to be there to soothe any hurts or aches…which is a startling realization that you’d not just tend to Hayun but to Jungkook, too. That internal, visceral part of you yearns to turn on your heel and…protect what’s yours.

It’s an odd revelation to think of Jungkook as yours. Well, yours unless either of you reject the bond. Though, that thought makes your stomach pitch and roil. You have to trail a hand along the wall in the hall leading to your room to keep yourself from curling over your abdomen at just the idea.

Once back in your room, you’re unsure what to do with yourself, so you absently start to gather your belongings and pack them up. Every few minutes, you find yourself pausing to stare at the door, ears pricking at the slightest sound from beyond it.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting. Whether it’s Hayun coming to your room so the two of you can cry together or Jungkook coming to claim y—uh, you shove that thought aside quickly because now is not the time. At. All.

The time for the wedding comes and passes without a single knock on your door nor a text or call on your phone. You’re tempted to go looking. For what, you’re not entirely sure—an answer, maybe, some sort of direction on what you should do now.

Finally, after hours of sitting in silence with just your thoughts for company, a soft knock sounds at your door. The long hem of your dress nearly trips you up in your haste to make it to the door. It swings open, and for some reason, your stomach drops, the flutter of disappointment heavy and unexpected.

“Hey, beautiful,” Taehyung says, his voice soft and full of emotion. “Mind if I come in?”

His necktie is loose, and the top button of his dress shirt is undone. There is a tension in his eyes that wasn’t there earlier. It makes your chest ache.

“Sure,” you say, stepping back and letting him into your room.

Taehyung sighs, perches on the end of your bed, and props his elbows on his knees. His chin rests on an upturned fist, his other hand dangling between his legs, clutching his phone.

He opens his mouth, a single word the only thing coming out, “So.”

“So,” you parrot.

“Hayun wants me to take her home…alone. I’m not sure what all she and Jungkook talked about, but I think they’re at least amicable in agreeing that it would be best if he gave her a few days at home alone before they start the process of separating their lives.” You’re not sure if the bitter tinge in your chest is hurt because Hayun isn’t the one telling you this or because now you have to find your own way to the airport. As if reading your thoughts, Taehyung continues, “I can be back in two days, maybe sooner, depending on traffic. Perhaps they’ll let you extend your stay. If not, I can talk to Jimin—”

“No, Tae, it’s okay. I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about me. Just take care of Hayun, make sure she’s okay...as okay as she can be, at least. Fuck.” The last word comes out choked, and you gnash your teeth on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting the angry tears out. You have no right to be angry. Hell, you’re not even sure why you’re angry. It just seems like the easiest emotion to feel right now, the only one that doesn’t leave you feeling like your world is slowly imploding.

“Hey,” Taehyung says, bringing one of his big hands up to cup the side of your face. His thumb prods at the swell of your cheek, causing you to release the tension in your jaw. “Hayun isn’t the only one I’m worried about here.”

“I’m fine—I will be fine,” you amend. “I promise. I think I’m just feeling overwhelmed. I’m mad at myself for ruining Hayun’s big day. I can’t believe this is happening at all. This…this just doesn’t happen. This is the kind of shit you read about in books, it’s not supposed to be real life.”

And there it is, you surmise—the truth of the matter. None of what’s happened makes sense. It honestly belongs on the pages of a book or in a movie script, not in your real life. It still feels surreal. If it weren’t for the subtle, lingering ache you instinctively know is associated with finding your true mate but not allowing yourself to fully accept it, you’d think this was all some elaborate party trick or impractical joke.

Taehyung smiles at you, but the unease in his eyes can’t be masked that easily. “I’m not sure what to say or what to do. You’re right. This isn’t a situation I think anyone was prepared for or ever thought possible, actually. But, here we are…and we have to face it the best way we can.” He pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful. “I'll tell you what: I’ll text Jimin—he’s a good guy, I think you’ll enjoy his company—and ask him to meet you in the lounge. Have a few drinks, wind down, and try to relax as best you can.”

“Sure,” you say lamely, trying to muster up at least a little bit of enthusiasm.

“That’s my girl.” Taehyung offers you another smile, this one not so tense. “Here, I have something for you.” He fishes into his pant pocket and produces a familiar thin silver chain, a tiny crescent moon dangling near one end.

The sight has your spine straightening. “Right, of course.” You quickly thumb open the clasp on the bracelet around your wrist, letting it fall from your skin for the first time since you put it on when Hayun gave it to you all those years ago. It never felt right to take it off…not until now.

Taehyung helps you swap the bracelet with the one in his hand. The metal feels cold against your skin and you immediately miss the subtle fragrance of Hayun’s scent clinging to your wrist. Though, you suppose that’s what has gotten you both into this mess to begin with. Taehyung explains in soft words how Jungkook explained to Hayun about the scent mix-up with the bracelets—such a silly, seemingly insignificant thing…the catalyst to spark such a colossal moment.

“I’m going to get on the road with Hayun, but I’ll call you as soon as we get to her place and check in on you, okay?”

Sitting at the bar with Jungkook’s best friend seemed like a good idea when Taehyung first presented it to you. But, at the time, you weren’t connecting the dots that Jimin was Jungkook’s best friend. He was just Jimin, the guy that just so happened also to be part of the wedding party that you had met in passing briefly, but he seemed like a good enough person. Now, however, you feel all the awkward tension radiating right between your shoulder blades, emphasized by the silence lingering between the two of you.

You traded in your lilac dress for jeans and a light silk blouse, canvas slip-ons in place of your slippers, yet no matter how comfortable you know your clothing is, you can’t shake the prickling discomfort eating away at the back of your neck.

“Want another?” Jimin asks, nodding to your mostly watered-down rum and coke. It’s barely late afternoon, and as much as Taehyung’s suggestion of a drink sounded like just what you needed, you’ve found yourself not in the mood to drink after all.

“Um, nah. I’m okay, thanks.”

“Cool. Okay. I’ll be right back.” Jimin drums his fingers on the tabletop and pops his lips before giving you a slight head nod and pushing up from his chair.

You watch as he saunters to the long bar, his crescent moon tattoo on the nape of his neck peeking out from the top of his collar, and props his elbows onto the shiny top. His smile is flirty and casual as the bartender, a beautiful woman with long, inky tresses and fiery red lipstick, sidles up in front of him.

They’re too far away for you to hear their conversation, but her tinkling laughter carries across the space, and you know it might be a while before Jimin returns to your table.

Which you’re okay with. Considering you know you’re not exactly pleasant company right now, you don’t blame him one bit. You glance down at your phone, once again reading the last text message Hayun sent you not too long ago.

Eunseo stopped by the lounge around the same time Jimin showed up. If her smile and lingering hug were any indicator, she clearly had a thing for him. She gave you a small wave goodbye before giving Jimin another hug and heading out. Apparently, she was going to follow Taehyung and Hayun back to Hayun and Jungkook’s place to help Hayun with whatever she needed over the next few days.

Does it hurt that your best friend is relying on someone else, her new best friend? Yes. Do you also understand why? Also, yes, but that doesn’t make the sting hurt any less.

You’re just about to give up and retreat back to your room, which the front desk still hasn’t given you a definitive answer about whether or not your stay can be extended while you wait for Tae, when a shadow falls across your table a second before.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Jungkook asks in a low voice.

He fidgets, threading and unthreading his fingers together while he waits for your answer. The suit he had half on earlier is gone, and in its place is a dark pair of jeans, the knees worn fashionably, and an oversized white graphic t-shirt. Black sneakers peek out from the rounded bottoms of his pant legs.

You clear your throat, forcing your eyes away from his and instead on the glass sitting in a puddle of condensation on the table before you. “Oh, I—uh, I was actually about to go. You’re welcome to the table, though. Jimin was—” You cut off, realizing Jimin is no longer in the lounge at all. “Well, he was here,” you add with a frown.

Jungkook scratches a hand across the back of his neck and gives you a hesitant smile. “Yeah, he texted me. He went…well, that doesn’t matter. Could we, um…can we talk?”

“Yes.” The response is out of your mouth before he even finishes asking. “Please, I think I’d like that,” you say, nodding toward the open seat across from you.

A shaky breath rattles from Jungkook as he eases into the empty seat. “Have you talked to Hayun at all?” he asks after a moment’s hesitation.

“A text message, but that’s all. I’m not sure she wants to talk to me right now.” Needing something to do with your hands, you trace a finger along the edge of the water pooled around the bottom of your glass and use your other to poke more drops on the side of your cup, making them race down to join the growing puddle.

Jungkook nods, his lips pursing thoughtfully. “She told me what happened last night. Her confession.” That draws your attention back to him, and you wait, fingers still on the glass, intent on hearing what he says next. “I thought I’d be angrier finding out the woman I’ve been with for years—the woman I was hours away from marrying—had cheated on me…but I’m not. For the life of me, I’m not mad at her…even though I know I should be.”

“How do you feel?”

Maybe it’s none of your business, but you have to ask.

Blowing out a breath, Jungkook slides one of his hands across the table and, giving you plenty of time to protest or pull away, slowly slides his fingers between yours, effectively joining his hand with yours. It’s the first time hand-holding has felt so intimate yet wholly innocent.

“Relieved, I think,” he finally says. “Grateful, maybe? Hayun was hurt. As she has every right to be, but she said she also felt relief, too. I think, as much as she said she loved me, she was still holding back even in the end.” With a rueful shake of his head, he tacks on, “We were just a disaster waiting to happen, held together only by the thin chain of a bracelet. We would have shattered eventually.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop to where your fingers are entwined with his, trailing up to your wrist to land on the object he just spoke of.

“I’m relieved, too,” you whisper. Your eyes meet his as he glances up, and you’re instantly captivated.

This is the first time you’ve allowed yourself to really study Jungkook. His hair is tousled like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. You suppose he probably had been and wonder if that’s one of his nervous ticks.

The bow of his lips is prominent and draws your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his lips, making small mental notes at everything you see, like the tiny beauty mark under his bottom lip. His straight nose leads you to his expressive eyes, so dark and full of secrets you want to be privy to.

To say Jungkook is handsome would be a gross understatement. You’re not sure if it’s the fact he’s your true mate or just simply a gorgeous being, but he is pleasing to the eyes, that’s for sure.

You mentally kick yourself for thinking such thoughts about your best friend’s almost-husband after everything that has just happened. It’s not in good taste to entertain these thoughts so soon, right? True mate or not.

Yet, you can’t shove those thoughts away completely.

“Where did you go just now?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head and studying you intently.

Not wanting to explain yourself and the thoughts you were just having, you choose to ask him a question instead. “So, what now?”

You’re thankful Jungkook doesn’t push you to answer. He shifts in his seat and withdraws his fingers from between yours.

“I think we start with…” he trails off, a playful smile tugging up the side of his mouth as he holds the hand he pulled back in the air in front of you in offering. “Hi, I’m Jungkook.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you smile. A laugh escapes you, and you instantly feel a thousand times lighter with that simple action.

As you take his hand back into yours, allowing yourself to truly savor the feel of his skin against yours, you realize that no matter what happens with Hayun or the fact that you live thousands of miles apart from Jungkook…everything is going to be okay and maybe you wouldn’t have ignored Taehyung’s text after all.

🥀🥀🥀

Jungkook, 3 months later

The flight was long but worth it. Jungkook stretches as he climbs out of the Uber he took from the airport. You would have picked him up. In fact, you are supposed to pick him up…just, not until next week. He decided to surprise you by coming early. He hopes you don’t mind.

Time seemed to drag to a near stand-still following that fateful day at the bed and breakfast where he was so sure he’d be joining his life with Hayun’s officially. No one could have anticipated what actually went down that day. But, in the end, he and Hayun parted ways on pleasant terms, and it’s actually thanks to her that he’s here right now, a week early.

Jungkook was worried that with everything that happened, yours and Hayun’s friendship might suffer. But, surprisingly—and thankfully—you guys have been getting on great. Hayun has been looking at work prospects in Thailand but, from what you’ve told Jungkook, is planning to visit you and Taehyung for Christmas.

It’s been three months, and not a day has gone by that Jungkook hasn’t talked to you in some capacity. From the moment he offered to be your ride to the airport, and you agreed, he’s thought about nothing other than getting on a plane and following you. The draw to you is just that strong.

You’ve expressed similar feelings, already having planned a return trip to Seoul next month. Neither Jungkook nor you have really talked about what the future holds or how to even begin to navigate it. But Jungkook hopes that during the week he is here, you can both begin to figure that out.

Giddiness makes his tattooed fingers shake as he reaches out and grasps the brass knocker on your door. He gives it a rap against the thick wood and waits. Jungkook counts the breaths as his anticipation rises. It’s only three and a half exhales before he hears the soft pad of your feet on the other side of the door.

Jungkook can imagine you pressing up onto your tip toes in order to peer through the peephole. He’d pay money to be able to see the look on your face when you see it’s him. Not being able to see your face doesn’t take away from the dopamine rush he gets when the sound of your surprised squeal sounds through the door.

“Jungkook!” Your shout is followed by the frantic sound of you disengaging the locks on your door before you swing it open and launch yourself at him. “What the fuck are you doing here? Oh, my gods! Why didn’t you tell me? You’re here!”

It feels good to laugh, but it feels even better to have you in his arms finally. The brief embrace he shared with you at the airport when he dropped you off was not enough and is what drove him to try and come sooner than planned.

Jungkook savors the warmth of your soft body pressed against his, your arms tight around his neck. Running one of his hands up your spine, he clasps the back of your neck and uses his hold there to angle your head away from his neck so he can look you in the face.

“Surprise,” he whispers. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

You sigh dreamily, your eyes fluttering closed for a second like you’re savoring the feeling of being in his arms. “Pleasant surprise,” you murmur with a smile on your face.

Jungkook can’t help himself. He wants so badly to know if your smile tastes as good as he thinks it will. The press of his lips against yours causes you to melt against him, a throaty sound escaping around the intrusion of his tongue as he works it between your lips.

“Your taste,” he groans, forcing his mouth away from yours before the allure of you can drive him completely mad. Who is he kidding? He’s already there. “I need more.”

🥀🥀🥀

Those words do something to you.

I need more.

They echo the thoughts you’ve been harboring for the last three months. You’ve ached with those words, desperately willing yourself to be patient and let it happen when it’s meant to happen.

But, fuck, it feels so good to have him in your arms, to have his mouth brushing against yours. He tastes divine, a warm sweetness that compliments the musk of his scent that is slowly wrapping itself around you.

“Take me. Take it all,” you urge, completely baring yourself to him, body, mind, and soul. “I’m yours.”

It’s a frenzy, the frantic discarding of clothing. Your fingers work to free him of his jeans while also helping him with the criss-cross straps of your lounging romper. You don’t care that you’re still standing by your front door, bared down to your underwear. The only thing you’re focusing on now is how Jungkook holds you at arm's length and drinks you in from head to toe.

“You…are…everything.” The way he whispers those words crawls under your skin, rooting itself deep in your being. You feel sexy…desired, and unbelievably empty—your body clenches, the ache deep between your thighs. You’ve never been so turned on from just taking your clothes off before, from whispered words and a heated look.

Jungkook allows you to undress him as slow or as fast as you want. You try to take your time and savor every inch of skin you expose. But, you can barely contain yourself when you get to his jeans, shoving them unceremoniously down his thighs with your eyes locked on the many planes and angles of his toned chest and stomach.

Your fingers ghost over his skin, eliciting goosebumps in their wake as you explore the smooth and lush expanse of his shoulders and down his arms. Without needing to say anything more, he gathers you into his arms and covers your mouth with his once more.

It’s a miracle you make it to your bedroom. But, seeing Jungkook sprawled out on your bed is a sight you’ll never forget, with his lowered lids and bottom lip caught between his teeth. You want to taste every inch of him, from the tips of his ears down to the defined muscles of his calves.

Now, though, your gaze focuses on the front of his tented boxer briefs. The dark grey material has darkened even further, where you can see the distinct outline of the head of his cock. Saliva pools in your mouth.

You crawl on the bed, knees slotting between his, your hands on either side of his hips. With your eyes locked on his, you lean down and mouth gently at the wetness. You moan at the flavor of him, your tongue peeking out to seek more.

“Fuck,” you curse. “You taste so good.”

Jungkook lets out a quick breath. “You can’t say shit like that, baby girl. You’re going to make me lose it.” He flicks his eyes up to the ceiling, his lips moving like he’s sending up a silent prayer, before looking back down at you. “You have maybe three seconds before I can’t hold back any longer and tear that ass up.”

You chuckle softly, pouting out your lips in a faux sullen manner. “Yes, sir.”

That earns a growl from Jungkook that has heat racing down your spine as you hook your fingers into the band of his Calvin Klein’s and pull them down. He lifts his hips, helping you free him from their confines.

His cock stands so pretty before you, the full heft bobbing against his belly, smearing a pearl of precum against his golden skin. You dive in, licking at the sticky mess before taking the tip between your lips and lavishing your tongue over his slit.

Jungkook fists the sheets, a litany of curses falling from his lips. “Please,” he chokes.

You keep your eyes locked on his as you inch your way down his length, your jaw forcing itself wider to accommodate as much of him as you can. The blunt head of his cock presses against the back of your throat. You take a steadying breath in through your nose before forcing yourself a little further until your throat constricts around him and you have to pull back.

The second your mouth leaves his cock, saliva stringing from your lips to his tip, Jungkook grabs you and hauls you up over him. You laugh, loving the heat emanating from his body as yours covers his.

“What are you doing?” you gasp.

His strong hands land on your hips and tangle in the band of your panties. “I need these off. Please. I need you. I want to feel you…be inside you.”

You want that, too, you realize, your body already primed and begging for it. The sweet, fragrant notes of your arousal saturate the air, mixing with Jungkook’s to paint a picture of hedonism and wanton desires.

The rest of your clothes come off, your bra and panties are tossed to the side, leaving you utterly bare to him. Your inner thighs slide like velvet over his hips as you move your body against his until you can feel the press of the head of his cock against your entrance.

You wrap a hand around his base, angling him perfectly. It’s a slow descent into madness, the lowering of your body onto his. His eyes bore into yours, pouring out everything that has been building to this moment, this pinnacle that will forever throttle you onto a different path for your future—with him. You can feel every perfect inch slide along your walls as they adjust and welcome him. It’s like sliding home; he is the perfect fit for your body, filling you completely.

The pace you set, at first, is languid. An easy rise and fall of your hips as you both learn the body of the other. Jungkook’s hands mold around your breasts, his thumbs caressing over the pert points of your nipples.

“You feel so good,” you tell him, emphasizing your words with a generous roll of your hips. “So much better than I imagined.”

“You imagined it often?” he asks, a teasing tone to his words.

With the amount of teasing photos and videos you’ve shared with each other over the last few weeks, he knows you have. You can tell he’s just giving you a hard time. That’s fine, because you can…

Jungkook throws his head back as you arch yours, letting his cock hit that special place inside that has you both seeing stars. “Fuck!” His hands drop to your hips, landing with a satisfying smack. His grip tightens, dimpling the supple flesh around his fingers. “Can I knot you?” he asks with a breathless moan. You’ve never taken an alpha’s knot. The idea has your body pulsing around his, flooding slick onto his pelvis as you continue to roll your hips. “Fuck, baby girl, do you like that idea? You want to take my knot like a good girl?”

You can’t even form a coherent thought, much less answer him. The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a panting keen, your chin jerking up and down as you frantically nod your want.

Jungkook braces his feet against the mattress and uses his grip on your hips as leverage to thrust upward, sending you forward onto your hands. He’s relentless, pounding into you from below to the point your eyes roll back, and you have to squeeze them shut. Tiny pinpricks of light burst behind your lids as your body coils tighter than ever before.

You cry out as he sends you over the edge, your body careening into an unfathomable abyss of pleasure. The sounds coming from around his cock as it pounds into you are slick and obscene, debauched yet wholly satisfying.

“Alpha, need your knot,” you mewl, your lips finding the triskelion tattoo over Jungkook’s left pec muscle. You nibble at it, your teeth sinking softly into the skin.

“Oh, baby, fuck…fuck…Fuuuckkk!” Jungkook shouts, the sound turning into a guttural snarl as his body goes primal.

He seats himself completely inside of you with one final, deliberate thrust, and then you can feel the swell of his knot capture within you. It hurts, your pleasure turning into a moment of pain and panic. You squirm, trying to lift your hips from his, but the clasp of his hands on your body won’t let you go far. You whine, “J-Jungkook.”

“I know, baby girl, I know. Relax. Let your body do what it needs to do.”

It’s like those words unlock some inner Omega part of your brain, and suddenly you feel your body rush with endorphins and dopamine as it accepts the thick jets of his cum now flooding in. Like administering a drug, it’s such a fast transition that you feel lightheaded and giddy, sheepish and almost silly over your moment of panic.

“Gods, that feels so…good.” You wiggle in his arms, gasping as his knot pulls tight. You want more, need more of that feeling…need more of his cum. “More, Alpha, please.”

Jungkook pants, a tired smile on his face. You can feel it when his cock pulses inside you, dribbling even more liquid heat into your body in answer to your plea. “That’s my pretty girl,” Jungkook coos, brushing a hand across your forehead. “You’re so beautiful taking my knot, full of my cum.” He curses softly, reverently, and another gush of heat fills your body. “I’m going to take such good care of you. I swear it.”

You fall into a half-sleep, content and sated as you are. There are no worries about the future, nor the past. You are happy…all thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks.

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-11-05 ColorMePurplex2

#jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook abo #alpha jungkook #omega reader #alpha jungkook x omega reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #jungkook smut #bangtanwritershq

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bonny-kookoo · 7 months ago

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Jungkook

𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖑 𝕭𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖘 [Teaser]

It doesn't matter how heavy the crown one wears might be- if it's made out of lies, it's worth nothing.

Tags/Warnings: Medieval AU, Alpha!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Angst, Fluff, Adult Themes (such as smut, Violence and blood)

Type: Oneshot

Wordcount: long. Very long actually considering what I usually write.

A/N: This fic was actually written prior to moonlit, and the draft is available on patreon. But I could never really let go of it, so I'm finishing it these days.

Note: this is a 'sister-fic' to another work called Moon Of Claiming, which has similar themes and world building, but different plot. The draft for that is also available on patreon, and I'm planning on publishing that one after this one. Both fics will be Early Access there.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

The goal is clear.

His prize is right in front of him, your body held by silver chains, your eyes still shining like two polished gemstones with tears of pain and fear, as you’re forced to watch whatever might happen.

But your tears are unnecessary. Jungkook doesn’t even think about failing.

All that he can think about is the way that silver metal is burning your skin, how that is the only thing holding you back, weakening your body so much so that you’re unable to even move anymore. He can’t stand the sight of them keeping you close like this, far away from his reach, even though everyone around, wolfblood or not, knows that you’re his. Not just chosen by him, but chosen by the moon herself, born to become his mate. And yet, he’s being challenged.

A joke, really. That is what this is to him.

“She’s got stamina, doesn’t she?” his opponent claims, already convinced that he will win this chase- most likely with the help of the same foul tricks he used to get into his position in the first place. “it’ll be easy to catch her.”

Jungkook stays silent. Because deep down he knows- he’s right.

You’ll be weakened, not only by silver and wolfsbane- but also from fear, from being alone, left to run through the woods in search of anything that could become safety. And in a state such as that, you’ll most likely be completely unable to differentiate between friend and enemy- you’ll just take whatever you can get, even if that alpha isn’t him.

But he will find you first. He knows he has to.

Tonight they may take you away from him- keep you from him, but tomorrow, when the moon sits high in the skies to watch over him and witness the whole thing unfold, he’ll get you back. Tomorrow he will prove it to all that some things are not just pure chance- that your bond is more than just luck on his side, and that your choice was always written in the stars.

Tomorrow it’s time to show the fake king how much power he really holds.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook fanfic #werewolf jungkook #alpha jungkook

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lo1k-diamonds · 1 month ago

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Be as it must 💜 Part 1

“They think omegas are extinct, but that doesn’t stop them from looking.”

PAIRING: Alpha!Jungkook x Omega(f)reader

SUMMARY: It’s hard being an omega in a world where they've all but disappeared, but you're safe as long as you stay under the radar. You might be risking it a little bit by working for the Jeon Family, an alpha ruling family, but they have no idea about you. What happens when you're found and taken to your boss, CEO Jeon Jungkook?

WORD COUNT: 3.7 k

GENRE: ABO, strangers to lovers, fated lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: anxiety, kidnapping, tension, mentions of abuse

A.N. Alright, let's get this party on the road 💜 There are so many Easter eggs and details in this part to kickoff things with the right foot 👀 A huge thank you to @moonleeai for helping me with every little detail, which I appreciate so much!! 🥰

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | Next Chapter >

“Good morning. I'd like ube bubble tea, please.”

“Name?”

You smiled, giving the barista your nickname instead before paying and moving away to wait.

It was not yet past 9 AM, but you couldn’t help grabbing your work phone and activating the mobile data. Even though you'd be in the office in ten minutes, it couldn't hurt to already have an idea of what awaited you.

There was no surprise with the amount of notifications popping up; so many so fast, the expensive device froze for a second. You smirked as you reviewed the messages sent through the office’s private chats, then scrunched up your nose at a few more serious emails. But as you dismissed one notification after the other, taking mental notes of what you should do first, one message made you topple all over yourself when you thumbed it away.

What was that?

CEO Jeon Jungkook is expecting you for a one-on-one call at 9:30 AM.

Your eyes widened impossibly, your perfectly manicured nails carding through your long hair for a moment. What did you just read?!

You opened a private chat with your team director, and your mentor, Yoon Minsik, and sent him a screenshot of the text message.

You scoffed in disbelief; you couldn’t believe this was on the table again. Still, what was baffling was that the CEO himself wanted to talk to you about it. It was so ludicrous; it was nonsensical.

You started typing furiously to tell your mentor that he should have handled your rejections to move away with more grace when someone called your nickname for what sounded like the hundredth time.

You turned around on your high heels, your perfectly styled hair falling in long dark waves behind your shoulder over a white silk blazer. The barista staggered, looking at you above her eyeglasses with parted lips, before she blinked and hurried to bow and extend your ube bubble tea.

You were about to smile and thank her for her service when she tripped and lounged forward, scaring you into instinctively grabbing her forearm to keep her steady. Fortunately, she was smaller than you, and since the drink was closed, your white suit was purple-stain free.

Still, the barista fell apart in apologies and bows that left you baffled.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. No harm done, see?” You wished the people around you would stop staring and making her feel bad; it made the air too pungent for your sensitive nose. She reminded you of a younger you, going through part-time jobs to push you through law school. “Thank you for your kindness.”

You made sure to bow and smile at her properly to put her at ease before heading to your office with a rushed pace. You couldn’t risk being late, even if you already knew your answer to the CEO’s proposal.

The expansion of the Jeon conglomerate into Seoul was but a small reflection of the success the company was finding overseas. It made it impossible not to expand to the capital and, naturally, most of the executive and legal teams followed.

Only you had said no at the time, and again just yesterday, when your mentor brought it up again. He should have known better than to go directly to the CEO about something like this. You had no special rapport with the CEO; you were just part of the team that handled multiple international agreements, and you represented the company whenever necessary. You had been told the CEO resented not having his top legal representative more “at hand”, but you doubted he was even aware of your existence. Your work gave prestige to the Busan branch, and you were proud of it. You had even suggested training someone to take functions similar to yours in Seoul. That was still your answer — you’d help out in any way, but there was nothing that could convince you to go to Seoul.

You admitted you never thought you’d sway on that decision, not in a million years. But you had also never imagined someone like CEO Jeon Jungkook, and just looking at him, you thought you could be convinced. When you entered the video call with him, you were expecting a short five-minute call in which anything could happen, from a dismissive “I thought I’d give it a shot”, to “You either do it or you’re fired.” You were ready for both, as adamant as you were about your position. Yet, neither happened.

He entered the call despite clearly needing time to finish a conversation with someone in the room, so you observed him while they talked on mute. His shoulders were wide, framed by a dark blazer that made him look the size of the world. His eyes were dark, introducing a harshness with his eyebrows as he debated something he clearly disagreed on with his interlocutor. His dark hair reached his eyes, falling on what you realized were soft features. CEO Jeon Jungkook was incredibly good-looking, making the blood rush to your cheeks in an instant.

You swallowed and tried looking away, grabbing a notebook and a pen just in case you needed to take notes. Unfortunately, it didn’t give you much reprieve; your eyes found their way to his neck, thick with a prominent Adam’s apple. As he craned his head to look at something behind the camera, your eyes trailed happily down his throat to his collar bone, where a couple of open buttons revealed perfectly bronzed skin—

You cleared your voice and started scribbling the date on the notebook; anything to keep you from staring. It didn’t last long; a deep voice invaded your ears through your AirPods, “I apologize for the delay. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

Your mind blanked as you stared at the screen with currents of warm, ticklish electricity running down your spine.

That was his voice. You could barely pay attention to what he was saying, which was so exceptional, it was unthinkable. His looks weren’t the issue; your whole body was trying to pinpoint something, and not necessarily his figure. It was as though you were a radio, turning the knob to fine-tune the right frequency. One you knew was yours to attune to, you just needed a bit more—

“So I wanted your opinion on the matter quickly before we meet in twenty minutes.”

You straightened your shoulders, and nodded, shaking those thoughts away. Your boss had a work-related request, and you obliged immediately.

While you resumed the current status of the agreement with an American company looking to use Jeon facilities to carry out research and development of a few products the Jeon conglomerate wanted priority access to, CEO Jeon Jungkook listened intently. You were used to talking and being met with skepticism or even indifference, especially by older stakeholders, who didn’t always respect a young woman in such a pivotal role in your department. Yet, the CEO was listening to you with utmost seriousness, as if every word out of your mouth was worth his time and attention.

Because it was; he hadn't achieved his current level of success at such a young age without being highly skilled and intelligent, just like you. You gave him the run-down of the situation and brainstormed with him possibilities that could be included in the agreement with ease. It was frankly refreshing; not too often, you had to waste time reminding board members of concrete information, boundaries, and laws that they should be aware of. Jeon Jungkook wasn’t there to waste your time or to scoff at your input; he was there to obtain advice on the best course of action, and it tranquilized you.

It impressed you, also. For someone only two years younger than you, he was phenomenal. Though, you didn’t forget what he was. You wondered if the reason why you couldn’t take your eyes off him and nearly stopped breathing to hear him attentively was because he was an alpha. You could only guess; to your knowledge, no one at the company knew of him or the Jeon family, and you had no way of knowing if you should feel any type of way about him.

According to your mother, you should. When you first started working for the Jeon conglomerate, she had almost lost her mind, wailing about the sacrifices your ancestors made to keep your family safe, only for you to work right under one of the Families. At the time, you knew better than to scoff at her; after all, you had already presented. It was a hard period for you, having grown up with stories the world told you were make-belief, only to turn eighteen and suddenly feel unexplainable things. The worst was that your sense of smell had evolved, picking up on the faintest scent. If humans could make the air change so quickly based on their emotions, you could only imagine how an alpha could influence a whole room, especially for you.

In the end, your mother had to admit that the Jeon family was too prestigious and far away to ever come into contact with you. That meant that Jeon Jungkook had never met you until now, despite your extensive work at his company. You were the middle person, the worker behind the scenes, writing the proposals, discussing, and bringing things to life. Yoon Minsik or other Seoul-based lawyers would be the ones to appear at formal events when things were done, which you didn’t mind as long as you stayed in Busan. Safe.

So Jeon Jungkook had no idea about you.

Still, he sighed when you finished talking and leaned on his right side as he seemed to debate something with himself. “I must confess Yoon Minsik didn’t do you justice.”

“I’m sorry?”

You blinked, caught off guard. He had a meeting in five minutes; you were expecting him to say his farewells.

“I knew the Busan team was holding someone exceptional, but Yoon Minsik should have warned me sooner. No one in this office can synthesize, analyze, and keep a high level of scrutiny like you just did on such short notice and in so little time. Not with me, at least.”

You didn’t answer, opting for a silent moment to process what he just said. It was surely praise, but you were not about to belittle your Seoul colleagues by agreeing. You also didn’t want to sell yourself; you were happy where you were. Finally, you had to stop your chest from swelling with pride. CEO Jeon Jungkook was telling you in so many words that you matched him skillswise, which was incredibly validating. He was also incredible, if you could say so yourself.

He glanced at the edge of the screen, then leaned forward, “Your talents are wasted in the Busan office. Come work with me in Seoul.”

Your cheeks blushed furiously as your body overreacted to his request. Fortunately, your makeup was perfect that morning, and so you could trust he had no clue how much he affected you.

“I’m undoubtedly flattered by your incredible remarks and for such an amazing opportunity, but I must politely decline.”

Your answer was automatic, even though your eyes watered, and your voice didn’t hide a tinge of emotion. You were touched by the proposition, by the whole ordeal, really. But nothing could change your mind.

He pursed his lips, “Is there something about this office you dislike? Something you’d like to request? I’m listening.”

Your heart raced in your chest and you swallowed. Your mind whipped out an impossible thought while you glanced at the clock — 9:58 AM. When you looked back at him, you were almost shocked; he was at ease, just looking at you. As though he didn’t have another meeting in two minutes. As though you weren’t a replaceable piece in the system. As though he actually was willing to stay there with you and negotiate the conditions that would change your mind and bring you to his side.

You swallowed dryly again, “The office is great; like I said, it’s an amazing opportunity. I just don’t wish to be uprooted.”

A few seconds ticked by in silence while you waited for those soft features to twist into petulance or anger at the rejection.

But then his lips pulled in a crooked smile, and you just knew he was amused, maybe even impressed by your resilience.

“It’s a shame, and an incredible loss for this office. But I don’t plan on doing without you from here on out. Thank you for your time, talk soon.”

He bowed, and you hurried to do the same through your bewilderment, and in seconds the call was cut. You were left breathless and a little stupefied by CEO Jeon Jungkook.

You weren’t sure how to feel about today.

As you shut the front door of your apartment with your heart in your throat and disheveled hair from running, you leaned your back on it as if your weight could stop whoever was chasing you from breaking it down.

Your first instinct was to push the camera button to see outside your apartment and of your apartment building, but it was all normal and quiet. Slowly, your heart calmed as you stared endlessly into such a peaceful and unmoving image, you wondered if it had been hacked to play on a loop.

But then you scoffed and reasoned with yourself; that’s just an exaggeration. This whole thing was. This whole day was.

First, the CEO of your conglomerate all but interviewed you and tried to negotiate you changing offices to Seoul. Just that implausibility could have made that day already sound bonkers.

But then, because you had taken the metro that day, you had to walk a bit home, and you were almost snatched.

You swallowed, getting your heels off. That was exactly what it was — a car had stopped next to you on the street and two men had tried to grab you and push you inside. They must have been coordinated, because the men were following behind you, and the car knew exactly when and where to stop. Still, the nearing car alerted you, so as soon as you felt someone behind you, you were ready to fight. You struggled and managed to slip through their fingers, instantly running to a very busy street nearby. You knew no one would help you even if they saw it, but you were hoping it would deter them at least.

You ran straight home; you hoped they didn’t follow you.

You went all the way to your fridge, grabbed a soju bottle in your shaky hands, then turned on the TV to create background noise. You were nervous, trembling, and you needed normalcy to calm down. The familiar sound of a journalist reporting the news allowed you to down half a bottle in a go before heaving a long sigh straight from your soul.

Abductions weren’t common, but men or cults were known for unorthodox methods like those. You tried to shrug it off as being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it wasn’t enough. The news wasn’t enough, either. So you grabbed your phone and called your mother.

“Hi, my butterfly. How’s my precious daughter?”

She instantly started going on about what she was doing and her day, and you finally closed your eyes with a sense of normalcy. You managed to switch clothes while she talked, then went over the small and less impactful moments of your day for obvious reasons — the Jeon alpha and the almost abduction situations would just worry her terribly.

But then the TV reporter started speaking on a piece about a series of attacks targeting women in Busan, and you reached for the remote to increase the volume. Your mother kept talking, none the wiser, while you listened to the piece and noticed the similarities to what happened to you: men followed them on the street, shoved them into a car, asked a bunch of questions, touched them inappropriately, and then let them go.

Your mind was going over the motive of such a weird event when your breath caught. On the screen, the interview of one of the victims shocked you — it was the barista from this morning, eyeglasses and all.

Your alarms went off. “Mom…” you interrupted. “I need to tell you something.”

You started by commenting on what the reporter was saying, talking about the events happening locally, and your mother scoffed bitterly, “I told you not to move to the city.”

“It’s just Busan,” you argued, tired of that same old discussion.

“Even Busan is too big! Big cities are hunting grounds for—”

“Do you think that’s what this is?” You asked more sternly, wanting her opinion without freaking her out.

“Yes,” she sighed, knowing her daughter was dismissive of the subject. “It sounds like they’re scenting people.”

“What?”

“Hunting for omegas.”

You bit your lip for a second, still hesitating, “And why do you think that is, all of a sudden?”

She hummed, “They think omegas are extinct, but that doesn’t stop them from looking.”

You sighed with exasperation; this was serious, “You think they’re hunting ghosts and risking lawsuits?”

“These Families don’t need to worry about petty things like lawsuits! You should know that!”

You groaned, rubbing your face. You had misstepped and given her even more reasons to be agitated, and she didn’t know the half of it yet.

“An omega is a powerful tool to exert control. Remember the legends? Seven great Families once controlled the nation—”

“Yeah, yeah, omegas disappeared and now there are only four families,” you wrapped up dismissively. You didn’t care about snobs or hierarchies, not even in what concerned your disconcerting CEO. You cared where that left you.

“Whether you want to bury your head in the sand or not, it’s still very much true. The four Families have four unmated alphas, it’s a wonder they didn’t start searching sooner.”

“You think this is them?” you probed, biting down your nail.

“Or someone who knows how valuable such a person can be.”

You scoffed, “How would they even know who is an omega?”

“Some are trained to pick up the rarest of scents. Don’t forget how invaluable—”

“Right, right,” you dismissed, hiding your eyes from the TV and the world. You could still see the barista giving her testimony to the journalist; there was no dismissing it anymore. Your mother was making too much sense, paranoia be damned.

“Whatever Family gets their hands on one will get the upper hand.”

“This is fucking ridiculous,” you burst in a low hiss, angry at the world. You were not a tool or bargaining chip.

“You say that because you don’t know. You don’t know what it’s like to be in a room full of alphas, the power that—”

“Nor do I want to,” you grumbled. “Do I have a reason to worry?”

Your mother’s tone was surprisingly calm, “No, I don’t think so. Our family is not in the registry, they have no way of tracking you down. Why?”

You went over the episode briefly so as not to shock her too much, though to no avail. “Mom…” you tried, but she didn’t stop her litany of I told you so. “There’s something else.”

You had to tell her about the barista because to you, that was the nail in the coffin. You were pragmatic and knew the law; regardless of the Families’ standing, you didn’t believe they were above it. Maybe they did hunt for omegas in order to gain advantage over each other, you couldn’t be certain. Realistically, alleging such things would get you nowhere, and you were living under the radar, staying away from the capital where most betas and alphas migrated decades ago. But the barista changed everything. Because you went to that café almost every day and this time, you had touched her. You could have left your scent behind.

It was just too much of a coincidence that the two things happened the same day.

“You need to leave.”

Your mom’s tone dropped, hinting at an incontestable seriousness. You still tried, “You said I’m not in the registry.”

“Yes, but we can’t risk it!”

You groaned, “What the hell will they do? Kidnap me?”

“Yes!” You pursed your lips this time. “You’ll be seen as a tool! And we don’t have the means to protect you!”

You rubbed your eyes but agreed, “I… I think I can go to Seoul for a while. For work. I know,” you continued, with a hint of frustration. “It’s the worst place to go, but I have my life, my work. I can't just disappear. Maybe if I leave for a week or so, it will be enough to throw them off.”

Your mother wasn’t convinced, but she was reasonable — you could leave tomorrow and ask for vacation as soon as possible to maybe travel and lay low for a while.

It was nerve-wracking, but you were willing to do anything to stay safe and hidden. To stay autonomous and live freely, to not be used as leverage in power games that deemed you a worthless pawn. You just wanted to live your life, regardless of your blood or status.

You had a plan, so after booking a flight and a hotel room, and messaging your mentor about the sudden change of plans, you were able to sleep a few hours. Because you wanted to work the next day, you had an early flight that allowed you to arrive and get ready before starting within normal working hours.

That was how you left, waiting for a taxi in front of your building when the sun wasn't even up. And that was how you were shoved inside a car when you were distracted, and finally taken.

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ldysmfrst · 6 months ago

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Welcome to American Mate's Master List! The Taglist is CLOSED for this story.

This is an OT7 x Plus Sized/Chubby Reader story. The story will have Mature Scenes. The chapters with these adult themes will have (M) in the chapter name, so please 18+ readers only. Within the chapters, at the start and end of the Mature scene will be the following banner, if you want to skip them.

The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?

Chapter 1 - Two Weeks Early

Let's introduce you to the world of Hybrids and Playmates. It really is quite simple until a VIP Potential Client's manager walks into your office two weeks early, and it's only a skeleton crew right now.

Chapter 2 - The Playmate Meeting

Bangtan Pack arrives at Playmate Services Inc., USA Idol Division. It's time for the pack to meet the unsigned Playmates, but things don't go as well as planned.

Chapter 3 - Following Instincts

Dealing with the aftermath of the accident, Bangtan Pack reacts upon instincts, some more than others. Y/n learns a few new things.

Chapter 4 - First Case of Alpha Space

Y/n may call herself a Hybrid supporter but never has she dealt with something like this. Y/n gets to see firsthand some of what an Alpha is like when they get a little lost in their instincts.

Chapter 5 - Heated Discussions (M)

Y/n didn't want to cause trouble, but that seemed to be all she did. However, Bangtan Pack thinks sometimes the trouble is worth it.

Chapter 6 - A Proposition for You

Things get intense for Bangtan Pack and Y/n, but not in a good way. Meeting the doctor tonight has bigger implications than Y/n thought was possible.

Chapter 7 - Is This a Joke

After proposing to Y/n the option to become their playmate, the Bangtan Pack struggles to convince her to accept their Prime Alpha's offer. Will Y/n be persuaded or will she run from Fate unknowingly?

Chapter 8 - Time to Tell the Family Pack (M)

While the Bangtang Pack is excited to have Y/n join as a "Play"mate, that may not be the case for her family pack.

Chapter 9 - Shadows of the Past (M)

It becomes clear that pack dynamics can vary from pack to pack. This sometimes leads to interesting reactions. It's where the past can be seen influencing the present that will shadow all.

Chapter 10 - A Date in the Right Direction

After the visit from Dr. Blackwell, some of the Bangtan pack start behaving differently. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? Maybe the eldest Alpha has some insight. (This chapter is Seokjin-centric in honor of his coming home from the military)

Chapter 11 - Just a Staff Member Part 1

Chapter 11 - Just a Staff Member Part 2

Y/n stands up for someone else, and everything starts falling apart. Last night was a dream but the reality of the situation finally hits.

Chapter 12 - Everyone Deserves a Second Chance

It's time to make a choice that can make for an adventure or change y/n's life.

Chapter 13 - Shall we?

It's time for the date with Namjoon. Getting ready becomes more fun than you think it could be with an unexpected surprise and new friends, but what happens as the night goes on?

Chapter 14 - Does it Always End in Ruin?

Scenting in a car with the Prime Alpha goes better than expected, but once they return to the pack house, things take a turn for Y/n.

WARNINGS FOR CHAPTER 15! This is a heavy chapter. Please read before reading the full chapter. Thank you 💜💜💜

Chapter 15 - The Pack Meeting and Troubled Pasts

Y/n shares her history with Bangtan Pack and finds she isn't the only one with a dark family life.

As a paid member of my Patreon, you can read extra spicy smutty scenes and additional content and have early release benefits for each chapter!

TO BE CONTINUED...

Reader Asks

Has the Bangtan Pack been with a woman before?

How would The Bangtan Pack react to finding Y/n dancing?

Additional Content

Meet Alpha Giant Flemish Rabbit Jungkook's Family

Patreon Artwork Poll Results (1)

American Mate (5) - Extended Scenting Scene (M)

American Mate (8) - Extended/ Additional Scene (M)

Take a look at Chapter 12, Hobi's Fire Red Suit.

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phantomstatistician · 24 days ago

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Tag: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

Sample Size: 34,123 stories

Source: AO3

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runariya · 1 month ago

Note

For prompt game: ⚽️🐺🥸🤫

(By the way, i'm so happy it's open again, your stories are amazing 🥰)

Hear me out: an Alpha boxer Jungkook, whose son Koda is on kindergarden, being taught by our lovely omega reader.

But Jungkook is a workaholic, always trying to get his son and deceased mate proud, so reader is upset with him because he never attended any school meeting, by now his son sees her as a mother figure, and relies on her to take and get him home everyday.

One day, school ends early and reader gets to wait for her dearest student's father with him, Jungkook walks in, all bloodied from winning another fight, and finds not only his sweet boy being nurtured by a pretty omega, but also gets asked by Koda to make this nice lady his mother, maybe also get him a baby brother to play with ? And who is he to deny his son something ? Besides, the house is too big for just the two of them, and what's the use of making so much money if you don't have a loving omega and pups waiting by the door ?

(I think this is yandere because he straight up decided she is his mate now, but that's up to you. Also feel free to change or ignore this if you don't like it. Hugs and kisses ☺️)

(sport+ABO+"yandere"+smut) part of the prompt game pairing: Alpha boxer!Jungkook x Omega teacher!female reader genre: ABO, smut warnings: explicit sexual content, breast play, dom!JK, a bit of begging, teasing, size difference, unprotected sex, bonding, marking, knotting, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 3.079

a/n: soooo....i loved this ask sm! another one with full fic potential 😩 but i hope this suffices. i know it's uncommon, but jk's found a whole new bond with OC. I'm a romantic at heart, and she needs a mate k? lol so forget yandere, i made it work this way lol hope that's okay! also, sending hugs and kisses right back~ 💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Miss ___, can I have a baby brother?”

You pause, your hand hovering over the clasp of Koda’s jacket as you kneel in front of him. His wide eyes are fixed on you, innocent and full of curiosity, like this is the most natural question in the world. You can’t help the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips, even though your heart gives a little lurch. Koda always manages to catch you off guard with these questions, his mind always a few steps ahead.

“A baby brother?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow as you finish zipping up his jacket. “That’s a big request, don’t you think?”

Koda grins up at you, his tiny hand reaching out to tug at the sleeve of your coat. “But I really want one! I told Daddy, but he didn’t hear me. Maybe you can tell him?”

You try not to let your expression falter, but the mention of Koda’s father always stirs up complicated feelings inside you. Jeon Jungkook. The Alpha who is never around. The man you’ve never met, despite teaching his son for almost a year now. He’s a ghost in Koda’s life—and by extension, yours. You hear his name in passing, from teachers, other parents, even Koda himself, but you’ve yet to put a face to the name.

Jungkook’s reputation, though, precedes him. A professional boxer, always on the go, always training or fighting, always… absent. Too busy, too consumed with his career to attend any of the parent-teacher meetings, any of the school events. You’ve never seen him pick Koda up from school. Not once. It’s always a nanny or some assistant, but more often than not, it’s you who ends up driving Koda home when no one else shows up.

Like today.

You try not to let the frustration settle too deeply in your chest, but it’s hard. Koda is five, and he’s growing up without the attention he deserves. You know it’s not your place to judge, but you can’t help the resentment that builds up every time Koda looks up at you with those big, beautiful but hopeful eyes, asking for things his father should be giving him.

“Sweetheart,” you coo gently, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “I can’t make that decision for your daddy.”

Koda’s face falls a little, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he shrugs, a small sigh escaping him, and his little hand reaches for yours. “Okay, Miss ___.”

Your heart aches for him. Koda is so sweet, so full of love despite the gaps in his life. You’ve grown attached to him in ways you probably shouldn’t as a teacher, but it’s hard not to. He’s become a bright spot in your day, and lately, you’ve begun to wonder if he sees you as more than just his teacher.

The way he holds your hand, the way he looks for you in a crowd—it’s not unlike how a child looks at a parent.

You’ve caught glimpses of it, little moments where Koda will reach for you when he’s tired, or how he asks if you’ll be the one to pick him up tomorrow, like you’re something steady in his life.

Today, though, you’re the one driving him home again. Jungkook didn’t show up, and his manager who was supposed to pick him up called to say he was stuck in traffic. After half an hour of waiting and with the sun starting to dip, you decided you’d take him yourself. You always keep a spare car seat in your car now, just in case.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” you say softly, standing up and holding his hand as you guide him out of the classroom and towards the car park. Koda bounces along beside you, chattering happily about his day, blissfully unaware of the nagging frustration building in your chest.

You buckle him into the backseat, making sure the car seat is secure, and he leans back, kicking his feet excitedly. He doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by the fact that his father isn’t there again, which only makes you feel worse. Koda’s gotten used to it, hasn’t he?

The drive to the Jeon estate is familiar by now. You’ve done it more times than you can count, navigating the quiet streets until you reach the tall iron gates that lead to the massive villa. The place is intimidating—cold, imposing, and entirely too big for a single man and his young son. You can’t imagine it ever feels like home to Koda, not the way it should.

When you pull up in front of the house, Koda’s little face lights up. He unbuckles himself as you open the door for him, hopping down and grabbing his backpack from the seat. His small feet patter on the stone driveway as he makes his way towards the front door, and you trail behind, waiting to see if anyone will come to greet him.

“Bye, Mummy!” Koda calls over his shoulder, throwing the words out casually, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Your breath catches in your throat. Mummy. The word hangs in the air between you, sinking into your skin, your heart.

“Koda—” you start, your voice faltering, but he’s already bounding up the steps, completely unaware of the storm he’s just stirred in your heart.

Before you can process what’s happening, the door swings open, and the nanny—an older woman with kind eyes—waves him inside. You stand there, frozen for a moment, watching as Koda disappears into the house, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Bye, Mummy.

He didn’t mean it, you tell yourself. He couldn’t have meant it.

But the way the word settled in your heart tells you otherwise.

•••••••••••🐺🥊♥️🐺•••••••••••

You glance at the clock on the wall, frustration gnawing at your patience. It’s almost six, and Koda is the last kid left in the classroom, his little legs swinging back and forth as he hums to himself, completely unaware of the time or the fact that, once again, his father hasn’t shown up.

You sigh, pushing aside the stack of papers you were grading and standing up. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and you know it won’t be the last. But today, something feels different. You’re tired—exhausted, really—of making excuses for Jeon Jungkook. Of stepping in when he doesn’t. Of watching Koda sit there with that hopeful little smile, waiting for a dad who never seems to come.

“Stay right there, sweetheart,” you tell Koda, offering him a gentle smile. He looks up at you with wide eyes and nods, still playing with the puzzle pieces on the table. You step out into the hallway, pulling your phone from your pocket, and swipe through your contacts until you find the number you’ve been avoiding calling all day.

Jungkook’s number.

You’ve never actually spoken to him, not directly. It’s always the nanny or the assistant, someone else standing in for him, making excuses on his behalf. But today, you’ve had enough. If he can’t be bothered to show up for his son, then maybe he’ll listen when you lay it out for him. You press call, the phone ringing in your ear as you lean against the wall, occasionally peeking back into the classroom to check on Koda.

The ringing stretches on far too long, and just when you’re about to hang up, there’s a click on the other end. But it’s not Jungkook.

“Hello?” A deep male voice, but not the one you were expecting. It’s his manager—another gatekeeper between you and the man who should be here for his son. “Who’s this?”

You swallow the irritation bubbling up in your throat and answer, “It’s Koda’s teacher, ______. I’ve been waiting for someone to pick him up for over two hours now. Where’s Jungkook?”

The manager clears his throat, and you can already hear the excuse forming in his voice before he even says it. “Ah, yeah, about that. Jungkook just finished a big fight a little while ago. He’s still dealing with press and recovery, so he won’t be able to make it. We’ll send someone to get Koda.”

You close your eyes, the frustration mounting. You’ve heard this same spiel too many times now, and it’s always the same. Always some excuse about the fights, about his busy schedule, about why he’s too important or too caught up to come pick up his own child.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice tight, barely holding onto your patience. “But this has gone on long enough. Koda has been waiting for hours, and it’s not fair to him. If Jungkook doesn’t pick up his son in the next hour, I’ll have no choice but to contact youth welfare. This is unacceptable.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence on the other end, and you wonder if maybe you’ve finally gotten through. The manager stammers a bit, clearly caught off guard. “Uh, I’m sure we can get someone there soon. There’s no need to—”

“Jungkook. An hour,” you cut him off sharply. “That’s all the time he has.”

Without waiting for a response, you hang up, exhaling a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your hands are shaking with a mixture of anger and guilt. You’ve never been one to throw around threats like that, but you’re at your breaking point. Koda deserves better than this—better than a father who seems to have forgotten what it means to show up for his son.

You peer back into the classroom, your heart clenching when you see Koda still happily playing, completely unaware of the tension outside. He deserves so much more than this.

The minutes tick by, each one feeling longer than the last as you sit back down at your desk, your eyes flicking to the clock every few moments. With every passing second, you feel the frustration building, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. You’ve done everything you can for Koda, but you’re not his mother, no matter how much he looks at you like you might be.

Then, just as the clock ticks closer to the hour you’d set, the door to the classroom swings open.

You don’t have to look up to know who it is. You feel it before you even see him—the shift in the air, the sudden prickle at the back of your neck. There’s a strong presence that fills the room, something that tugs at a part of you that you didn’t realise was waiting.

Jeon Jungkook.

When you finally glance up, your breath is lost in your throat. He’s standing in the doorway, still dressed in the aftermath of whatever fight he’s just won. His knuckles are bruised, lip split, his jaw clenched, but it’s his eyes that hold you captive. Dark, intense, and far more focused than you ever expected.

Your heart stutters in your chest as your gaze locks with his, and for a moment, the rest of the world seems to fall away. The anger, the frustration—it all pushes into the background as something else entirely takes its place. It shouldn’t be possible, not when he’s already found his mate—his late mate, who passed when Koda was just a baby. A bond like that is meant to be for life, unbreakable, irreplaceable. And yet, here it is, something deep and undeniable, something that shouldn’t exist but does.

You blink, forcing yourself to break the eye contact, but it’s too late. You’ve felt it. He’s felt it. That connection, that pull.

And suddenly, everything is different.

Koda turns his head slightly, peering up at his father with wide eyes, and then—without a hint of hesitation—screams at the top of his lungs, “Daddy, can you make Miss ___ my mummy? And maybe give me a baby brother?”

For a second, you’re convinced you didn’t hear him right. Surely, Koda didn’t just blurt that out in front of his father. Surely, this isn’t happening. But when you glance at Jungkook, the look on his face tells you that, yes, this is happening. His dark eyes glimmer dangerously, and for a brief moment, a smirk lifts at the Alpha’s lips.

You stand up quickly, your heart still hammering in your chest. “Koda, you can’t just—”

“I’m serious!” Koda insists, his voice high-pitched with excitement. He’s bouncing on his toes now, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. “Miss ___ is really nice, and she makes me happy! And I want a baby brother, too!”

You don’t know what you expect him to do. Maybe scold Koda. Maybe just walk out. But instead, Jungkook finally breaks the silence with his voice surprisingly quiet and melodic voice.

“We’re leaving. You too.”

•••••••••••🐺🥊♥️🐺•••••••••••

How you find yourself pressed against Jungkook’s bedroom door after having dinner and putting Koda to bed is beyond you, but you don’t question it when you’re too busy enjoying Jungkook’s searing hands on your body and his teeth nipping at the skin of your neck.

“My pretty Omega,” he licks a stripe up your throat, ending right at your earlobe as he husks, “you’re mine, hm?”

The whimper and moan escaping your throat can’t be held back, not when his hips press into your clothed cunt just right.

“Yes.”

You’ve never felt this aroused, this high on an Alpha’s scent as you do now, though you reckon it’s just what a mate does to you.

Jungkook rips the top of your dress in half, taking your bra with his powerful pull and leaving your heaving chest exposed to his hungry eyes. His hands are on your tits in an instant, kneading them together as his tongue laps from one nipple to the other, sharp teeth grazing the pebbled tips ever so carefully.

“Jungkook,” you moan, thighs squeezing him a bit closer, hands gripping his hair desperately.

“What do you want, baby?”

“You, just you.” You moan, head hitting the wall as another wave of arousal soaks your panties.

Your head swims from the undeniable strength Jungkook has as he carries you to his bed with ease, and when your back hits the mattress and he rips his own shirt in two, you think you might come there and then. You’ve felt his muscles while you were groping each other, but seeing his physique is maddening beyond words. You regret not watching one of his fights before, just to not be so utterly shocked and bothered by the sight alone.

And as you rub your thighs together, Jungkook emits a low growl, “Stop.”

And you do, whimpering as the little relief you had is now gone too.

“Please, Jungkook.”

“I’ll ask you this one time, and one time only. Do you want this?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want that bond?”

“Yes.”

“Fucking strip.”

And you do, hastily removing the torn dress, bra, and your panties from your trembling body, eyes never leaving Jungkook as he leisurely unbuckles his belt and gets rid of his clothes as well.

His dick springs out of his boxers, the red, leaking tip pointing at you as if aiming where it needs to go. Your mouth waters at the sight, salivating with the same need that has your cunt soaking the sheets.

“Open up,” he demands, and you do, tongue outstretched as he starts jerking himself off, teasing your lips and tongue with his precum and the weight of his big, girthy cock.

“You want to suck it, don’t you?”

Your eyes snap up to his, dark, blown-out pupils scanning your face, but you’re only able to nod ever so slightly.

“You look so small,” he muses, and he’s right. Compared to his cock, your head looks like a miniature, making your thighs again rub needily against each other, knowing he’ll stuff you full, no matter which hole he chooses.

“Should I prepare you, or can you take it?” Jungkook smirks down at you.

“Can take it,” you need to, because God forgive you, you need him inside you now.

Jungkook just chuckles, but he doesn’t argue as he crawls onto the bed like he’s chasing his prey. You push yourself backwards, enjoying this little power play as much as he does. It’s when you’ve nearly reached the head of the bed that you let yourself lay back, Jungkook now hovering over you and pushing your legs apart.

“My beautiful Omega,” he inhales deeply, and you can’t do anything but press your cunt against his tip, letting him slip inside.

At first, you fear he’ll pull back again, but as he groans ever so slightly and starts thrusting, inch by inch, you know you’ve got him.

“Oh my God,” your eyes roll back as your cunt finally adjusts to his sheer size, and he begins moving his hips with strong, slow thrusts, making you cling to his back, nails digging into his muscles.

“___, baby.” Jungkook growls, savouring the taste of your lips like it’s pure honey. There’s nothing you can do but surrender to him, surrender to the bond tying you together with each stroke of his cock.

And just before your high hits you, as Jungkook overwhelmed you mere hours ago, you turn your neck, offering it to him. But he tilts it ever so slightly, just enough for you to have a clear view of his too, spotting nothing but bare, smooth skin where once another mark was.

You shatter the moment your teeth sink into his flesh, causing him to pick up his pace and bite down as well, groaning through his release, hot breath brushing against your skin as his nose presses into you.

The knot that forms is more ecstatic than you ever imagined, fighting against the clamping of your cunt and leaving you lost in yet another release. And while you’re tied together, you’re licking your marks closed, still breathing heavily, Jungkook cradles your head in his big hands, guiding your lips to his in a kiss more loving than you ever thought possible.

“I’m sorry. I’ll never let you down again, never let Koda down again.” He promises between kisses, diving into your mouth as if it’s the air he needs.

“I hope you won’t.”

“I won’t. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.”

“I love you too,” but you sure as hell won’t believe him until he says it fully dressed and with post-nut clarity.

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jjungkooksthighs · 7 months ago

Text

Claws of Carnality | jjk (m) (16)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

Genre: (fluff, angst, and smut) abo/werewolf, fantasy

Rating: 18+/nsfw

Word Count: 14.3k (We really said it's been almost a year so we're going to write thirty plus pages)

Summary:

At the bathhouse, you discover your alpha is much worse is off than you originally anticipated. You tend to him, but some scars never fade.

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER INJURY, LOTS OF BLOOD MENTIONS, GORE, MENTIONS OF BROKEN BONES, MENTIONS OF LOSS OF BODY PARTS, dom!jungkook, alpha!jungkook, sub!reader, omega!reader, cursing, praising, possessive!jungkook, teasing, marking, manhandling

Author's Note:

It's been awhile since I updated. Honestly, the grown-up life is rough. That's all I really have to say to answer for the extended hiatus with this story and my other one. Mental health has been going up and down periodically and it really was so hard to write through it all. I spent about two weeks going back and forth with the chapter. I wondered if it would ever make it to a post several times because things kept getting deleted. I finally decided to just sit down and write and not stop. This is the final result. Thirty-one pages. I hope you enjoy. I'm sorry that this isn't the long-awaited mating chapter that I know you guys all really want to see, but it is important to me that the characters are nuanced and that their connection is not one built purely on the basis of desire. Sure, that is part of it, but there's much more to it. So much more depth and meaning when we build relationships with people. Especially romantic ones. Enjoy!

To read more, click here for the masterlist.

“O-over there, alpha,” you quietly suggest, “It would be easier for me to-“ you flounder in flusterment when the strong arm circled around your front curls possessively around you- “I-It would be easier for m-me to tend to you if you sat down on the bench.”

The male makes a deep, rumbling sound as he draws in another heavy breath of your intoxicating pheromones, “As you wish. But it will cost you for being so irresistible.”

The sound goes straight to your cunt, and you have to bite into your cheek to keep from making the sound of need that your wolf begs you to release. You shift where you stand, hoping that the quaint press of your thighs together will somehow trap the slick from where it is secreted from your sex.

“What…what is the price I must pay for my transgression?” You ask, hoping that balms, ointments, and medicinal solutions splayed on the tray you hold in your hands don’t fall from how much your heart pounds in your chest.

It’s hard enough as it is not to look down, for he is completely, utterly, and mouth-wateringly naked.

“Two things,” his uninjured arm tightens even more around your front, his hand bunching itself in your skirt as he groans at the fresh scent of desire that drifts from you. “The first is you will not leave my sight. I want you as near to me as you can be.” He noses at the side of your throat, your lashes fluttering in the warm sensation of his breath as he utters, “It was a second hell to leave you after that duel and be without you, but I wanted to respect the tradition–and your decision– had you chosen to prepare yourself for me.”

His words have affection swirling in your chest.

This male really was something special. Even after battling three other wolves and being severely injured on your behalf, he still put your needs before his own.

And really, how could you deny him his request when that was all that you wanted, deep down? To just be by his side. Forever his loyal, loving, doting mate.

“You needn’t ask me that, alpha, for it was already in my mind.” You faintly confess.

He likes that answer.

You know based on the way he presses his mouth to the oily gland along your throat. It is gentle and soft, and it is so different from what you’d seen on the glen not too long ago during his duel.

So much violence and so much pain he was capable of bringing, but with you, he would never harm a hair on your head. So great was his love for you that he would protect you from that even if it meant taking those scars onto his body.

He’d given his oath to you that he would do exactly that, and gods, he had kept to it.

It is why you let him maneuver you forward away from the watery basin you’d found him in and toward the long ebony wood bench that almost stretches from one end of the chamber to the other. A tall pillar of white wax holds a flickering wick that is set in brass lanterns hanging from the ceiling on each side of the bench, and in front of its legs are caged candles guarded by glass that have high, bright flames.

“How agreeable you are being. If you can so easily agree to that, then the second of my terms is this.” He turns you both before the front of your knee can make contact with the wood, the arm he has encircled around your waist spinning you so that you face him.

His hand never leaves your side, his fingers remaining entrenched in the sea of your skirts. Somehow, none of the vials fall from the tray you clutch onto.

Golden irises that burn with more intensity than the fire beside him have you utterly struck by their luminousness as he demands, “You will promise me that if this,” he jerks his chin toward his mangled form, “is too much for you, you will tell me. I said before that I only wanted you to tend to me, and I meant it. But if you are uncomfortable, you must say so.”

Again, he was putting you first. Despite the fact that he was hurting, he was still choosing your comfort over his own.

Just how much more could your heart swell for this male?

You shake your head, finding your voice full of doubtlessness and confidence that surge into you as you say, “I want to do this, alpha. I spent years studying the art of medicine and herbal treatments so that I could one day use it to help others.” You rise on your tiptoes to osculate your lips against his. “I would be lying if I told you I hadn’t secretly wanted to learn it mostly for situations like this.”

He smirks against you, his mouth lingering near yours as he teasingly prods, “Situations like this? Are you saying that you thought about getting me shirtless and all alone so you could touch me under the guise of that excuse?”

Heat races to your cheeks and that confidence you’d had before vanishes with it. Soon, you’re blushing as you blurt, “No! I mean, yes! I mean….alpha!”

Years ago, you had never entertained the idea that this male before you would ever become yours. That you would ever be able to have a moment like this with him. He had been a constant thought in your mind from the moment you’d first laid eyes on him when you’d been but children, and as you both grew older, his presence in your mind and thoughts had only grown stronger.

But apart from your dreams and musings, he’d been so far for you to reach with all the duties and responsibilities that had been thrust on you from such a young age. So many other omegas had vied for his attentions, and with all of them clamoring for one look in their direction whenever he had returned to the compound from his exploits deep in the forest or in the forge where he had been stationed, you had never been able to get close enough with a constant herd of wolves –female and male alike– around him.

His rank had drawn many to him, each of them hoping that the next in line to be the ruler of the pack would select them to be part of his inner circle. Any selected by him would instantly rise in rank upon his ascendance to becoming Pack Alpha, and so naturally he had had to be guarded in his interactions and limited in his contact with others beyond his work in the forge as the pack’s only blacksmith beside his father.

Rumors had spread fast in his unannounced absences that he would take with his father for increasing increments of time the older he became, because when he returned to work at the forge, there were bags under his eyes that had become more mature, had become hardened with the calluses on his hands as he worked them day after day.

Sometimes he would return with a new wound on his body that he tried to hide under the various furs he draped over his body. You knew because of the chitter of the omegas that would inevitably gossip about in front of the fire in the omegean den on your way back to your chambers after a long night in the archives that you went to after you left the schoolhouse for the day.

Those were the nights that you found your paws bearing down on the grassy ground as you ran through the hills deep in the woodland in your journey toward your favorite creek that was tucked away behind a wall of vines, deep into the forest, that no one but you knew about.

Or so you had thought.

He’d been there, too. From a distance, of course. From the moment you stepped out of your chambers, he’d been able to smell you. The wind had a cunning way of carrying that to him no matter where he was, and he was helpless to the wolf in him he had been learning to control that bayed and bayed until he listened and tracked that captivating scent that made everything else in the world fade away.

You wonder, as he urges you between his legs that he opens for you in invitation to stand between, just how much he had to sacrifice to be sitting before you now.

Your alpha observes your expressions change from embarrassment to concentrated concern, and he tugs on the invisible cord tying you both together that is the bond you now share. You let him in without hesitation, your thoughts becoming known to him as he draws on the connection.

He can hear your thoughts, can feel your emotions, can see your memories if he taps into it. In the developing stage of the bond, you wish you knew how to show him all of your dreams of him, all of your memories of him, and all your thoughts that you’ve ever had of him.

There’s something that you want him to see, but gods, your voice just won’t work the way you want it to under the emotion that cracks and breaks it. So, you let him see a memory you’d kept buried deep in the trenches of your mind for many, many moons. One that no one but he would ever carry.

It had been a rainy, stormy night. So heavy was the rain that it pelted your skin even through the thick coat of your white fur as you’d torn through the earth with paws too eager to rush you away from the center of your stresses and away to the woodland where it all melted away with the streaks of color that passed by you in your inhuman speed as you ran, ran, and then ran some more.

Thunder had rumbled through the sky on this particular night so loud that even your eardrums rang after the deafening strikes of sound that cut through the sky as lightning flashed before your eyes from under the canopy of trees.

The forest was vast, but that night, it had seemed all too small for you.

You hadn’t stopped until your lungs screamed for air, your haunches burning from how hard you’d pushed them, the bolt of white light in the sky similar to the color of the flame that had burned in the stone fireplace set in the middle of the wall on one end of your chambers while you’d carefully, attentively read the letter left to you on your windowsill.

Such a beautiful poem about a boy who had come to love the girl he admired from afar. And so meticulous had each letter been etched onto the parchment. You knew whoever had written it had taken much time to compose it with each swirl and curve of each syllable.

You had left it on your bed while you had gone to find another book to hide yet another letter from your secret admirer with no name, but had not noticed the shadow that had swept under your door to reveal your father, who had taken one look at the letter on your duvet before anger had turned him cruel at the prospect of his perfect little girl being corrupted by some hormonal male.

He'd cast the parchment into the fire despite your ardent pleas not to, the tears falling quickly when he’d let that fury burn you with pokers of curses and chastisements for your lack of purity.

He had always been adamant that you were to study the ways of the pack and devote yourself to teach its art to the youth. Those letters, to him, were nothing but distractions. Distractions that made you no better than the common whore in the fantasies they would ineluctably fill your head with.

Or so he had said.

That was why you had found yourself bounding through the forest that night with tears in your eyes not even the rain could wash away. But that night, fate had had other ideas.

You’d intended to go to the cave by the creek. You had never made it inside.

You’d stopped behind one of the oak trees on the edge of the forest floor before the soil turned to rock by the stream, the wide-mouthed cave beyond occupied by two figures.

Just by the smell of them, you knew they were of the same blood. One was older with their more muted, aged smell and one was younger.

You knew the scent of the younger one. That scent of blooming gardenia, pear and black vanilla. The same one that lingered on the letters left to you on your windowsill.

Each time the lightning pierced the black sky, their figures flashed. And each time, the two were locked in combat. Each held only a small iron dagger, their fighting leathers more than enough protection for them both lest either were struck by the other.

Unable to look away, you found yourself moving closer until you hid safely behind a thick, bountiful bush and could discern voices. Their voices. Only bits and pieces could be made out through the rainstorm, but it was enough.

“…too slow, son….can’t keep putting your arm up like that…too open and easy for me to…”

The next split of white light through the black sky illuminated them both, and the slightly shorter male with hair the color of ebony had a knife at his throat. It was held there by his father, who shook his head in disapproval as he gripped the younger male’s forearm in a vice-like hold.

“…cannot protect her if you cannot protect yourself. You are not ready.” The older male had decided. “Until you are, you will not see her. Even from afar.”

Another lightning bolt ruptures the clouds covering the moon, and a younger Jungkook had let his dogma guide his blade as he had voiced:

“Eventually I will be. And when I am, she’ll be mine. Not even her father will stand in my way.”

The next time the streak of lightning found its way through the atmosphere, the older male had been twisted around, his arm held behind his back while the younger alpha had pressed his blade to his father’s throat.

A self-satisfied grin with pointed canines protruding from under his upper lip had made your beating muscle in your chest stutter as he had released his father from the binding hold he’d had on him.

You could have sworn he looked right at you from behind the mess of leaves and brambles.

When the white fulmination cleaved through the clouds once more, your heart stopped when his father had quickly captured his son’s wrist to the hand that held the dagger by his neck only to bend forward and rotate forward, effectively flipping Jungkook onto his back. Jungkook, who had been unprepared for such a technique, had been brought to the craggy ground with a grunt, his other hand shooting out to grab for something, anything, to find purchase in as his knife fell from his fingers. Jungkook was fast, but his father had simply been faster.

The older male had easily used the momentum of move to step around and over Jungkook’s now prone form. Jungkook, who had been propped up on one elbow with a sharp looking rock held in his now bleeding hand from the blade of the dagger that had cut into his palm in the fall. It laid too far for him to reach, the essence of his defeat staining it.

White electricity strikes yet again, the deep rumble of thunder loud under the pounding of blood in your ears.

“Distracted. She occupies your mind even now. That…is dangerous, son.” The older male with gray streaking the black hairs stuck over his eyes had said. “Too dangerous for you to be allowed near her until….oncoming rut is over...”

That was the last thing you heard before there had been a flare of heat on your right, the rift of lightning arcing along the old oak’s stump beside you as the clouds clashed and loud sound pierced the earth.

You hadn’t even flinched. That didn’t matter. The only thing that did was the alpha on the ground who’s scent clung to the parchments that made you blush, smile, and kick your feet while you coveted them close to your chest as you wished to the gods that whatever force was keeping him from your side would release him.

The fascination that had turned every letter of his had tilled the very hard edge with which he spoke as he growled, “No. I cannot go through that again. You cannot make me.”

“Won’t I?” His father flipped the dagger in hand. “You’re on the ground right now because you cannot keep your mind off her. What is to stop you from venturing into her chambers tonight when you inevitably begin thinking of how good she smells? Of how pretty she looks when-“

Jungkook had pushed up on his hand, the other holding the rock slicing the air close to his father’s thigh. Each side of the older male’s mouth pulled downward, the metal of his dagger gleaming as sparks had flown upon impact of the pointed edge of the rock hitting the blade with such force.

“Don’t.” Jungkook’s jaw tensed. “Do not dare to say the things I mutter in my sleep when you have me chained to the fucking trees.”

His father had shrugged. “Then become stronger for her. Until you can, you’ll stay here, deep in the woods. Far away from her.”

The cords in the younger alpha’s neck went rigid as he scowled. “I will find my way to her. One way or another.”

With that, he’d pulled his knees toward his chest before punting his father in the chest with his feet. Such energy he’d used to push himself back from the older male as he’d used the force of the action to drive his feet over his head in a backward roll, his bleeding hand reaching around the hilt of the curved dagger on the ground. When he’d gotten to his feet once more, he had bared his teeth with determination set into those expressive features of his.

His father had nodded in approval, “That’s the spirit, son. Never accept defeat. That’s how you win.”

The clash of metal had soon become drowned out by the outpour of rain, but not even the water could snuff out the iotas of light that came at each powerful strike of their blades against each other.

Hours must have passed, but you swore it felt like it had only been minutes as your eyes followed the younger male everywhere he went, his wild dark locks sticking to his forehead and sides of his face as he moved with purpose and confidence.

There was an art to his movements as he continuously, mercilessly brought down his blade on his father’s. Time and time again.

Whether he held a quill or a blade in his hand, he was filled with purpose. Purpose that was entirely carved by you.

It had taken his father being backed into the stream for you to realize that you were too close. And that the air had become too thick to push air through your lungs as the organs in your chest contracted too deeply?

Why had it suddenly become so difficult to breathe?

Jungkook wades into the stream up to his calves, not willing to let up on his father despite the water urging him with its flow against him.

The closer he got, the more labored your breaths became.

You needed to shift. You needed to shed your heavy furs that had been drenched by the rain.

But to do that, you had to leave him.

So, you did. Quietly, you slipped into the night, careful not to make any sound lest you drew any attention to yourself. You hadn’t known you’d been holding your breath until you found your way back to your chambers, your footfalls light as your furs had begun to fall away from you. After you’d collected the rainwater you’d left in a barrel outside your window in several smaller bowls and emptied them into the cauldron hung over the metal hook above your fireplace to heat what would be your bathwater, your hands had sought the comfort of the thickest bound book that you kept on your bookshelf.

You had been too hasty to get to the dog-eared page you’d marked in the book, accidentally tearing the page before finding what you’d come to your book for. Inside it was tucked your favorite letter left to you on your windowsill. One that you found yourself rereading night after night.

It read:

The moon pales in comparison to the light that twinkles in your eyes,

The stars tremble in awe of your brilliance,

The night must blanket them and still, you offer more warmth,

Warmth that not even the sun can make as pleasant,

Warmth that the clouds could not even shade,

Warmth that no rain could fall with,

The flowers around us bloom, but none blossom with the beauty and grace of you,

The seedlings take root, but gods, none do so like the one you’ve planted in me,

The water they draw into themselves is life-giving, but yours is so much nourishing,

Still I sit here, hoping that you will allow me to bask in your radiance,

Still I sit here, promising that I will grow stronger in body, soul, and mind to be at your side,

Still I sit here, thinking of you when I cannot see, hear, or touch you as I do in my dreams.

Wait for me, my beautiful flower who only becomes more alluring under each moon.

Wait for me, and I will be your loving attendant,

Wait for me, and I will be yours.

You are forbidden to me now, but soon, you will not be. Soon, I will make you mine.

You will never have to look longingly at the wolves who hold and dote on each other while your only partner is the books you keep in your library. I will be everything you want me to be if that is what pleases you.

You will always have a shoulder to lean on, an ear that will listen, a hand that will caress you.

You will always have me.

You will never have to spend your nights crying into your pillow alone because of your father. I will be there to hold you close. I will be the fists that pummel him to the ground for daring to hurt you. Or anyone else that meddles your happiness.

All I can do for you now is watch over you from afar. Guard and protect you from the males I know you do not desire. From the females that have become venomous in jealousy of your unmatched intelligence, spirit, and beauty. From the threats that loom deep in the forest.

I hope you can forgive me for keeping my name and a face a secret from you. I suspect by now you have figured out who I am. And if you have, you will then understand why I commune with you this way.

The elders, nor your father, would allow it since you have not yet presented. Besides…it looks like I have some developments myself that I need to make. You have so consumed my mind and body that I can no longer make sense of certain things.

You are everywhere and yet, you elude me. It is the most tragic of ironies.

Until we meet again, my fair flower. I will see you long before you see me, but you can always find me in our dreams.

Always.

-Your Alpha

The air here had been clammy, too, so when you had let your thumb brush at the corner, the oils from it smudged the ink. Panic stole your breath and you not wanting to blemish the beautiful lettering, you’d slipped the parchment under your pillow and gone to the window to open it in hopes of letting some crisp, fresh air in.

Even here, you could still hear the clang of metal from the forest under lightly falling raindrops. You had let your body move on its own when you’d leaned out from the ledge of your windowsill that was only a few feet from the ground, the baser part of you subconsciously trying to be near to him despite the space between you.

That muggy draft that had clung to your ribs still did not dispel as the cold drops trickled down your body, the tears of the sky slow in their consolation as they dribbled along your arm as you lifted it up and stuck it out of the window.

It still wasn’t enough.

You needed to be able to breathe. And thankfully, you knew just what to do from all the books you read.

Hot water could provide relief to respiratory issues.

Your eyes landed on the largest of the wooden bowls you’d used to collect water from the barrel of rainwater outside, each of your hands holding it as you’d dipped it into the cauldron over boiling water, careful not to let it burn your fingers as you brought it to the tub, the sloshing of it causing you to stare down at it to see your reflection.

Your mouth was ajar with partially sharpened teeth that had not fully shifted back yet, your face flushed with redness and your eyes… your dilated pupils, now the color of the sun where they were usually silver like the moon, glowed back at you.

You blinked rapidly, surprise lighting up your face as you gaped.

Your wolf had been scratching at your psyche to do something about the irremovable weight that felt like it was pushing against your organs.

Another bout of thunder rolled through the sky from outside the semi-circular opening in the wall along the far end of the small, square room. The accompanying flash of lightning brought with it the deadly gleam of daggers behind your eyes, the image of Jungkook’s blood staining it in your mind’s eye as the suffocating pressure in your chest worsened.

You’d had to sit on the edge of the tub, unable to get air between your lips and before you could think, you raised the steaming bowl over your head and let it pour over you.

Its cascade down your flesh had immediately silenced your wolf, who preened at the hot sensation of the liquid all over your flesh. Everywhere the water touched, it washed away the uncomfortable weight that had smothered you so.

When you looked into the mirror across the room, the gold in your irises had been swept away with the last drop of water to leave only silver.

Your surprise had been doused until its remnants became distress as you looked up at the moon, your hands coming together before your bosom as you bowed your head in deference to ask, “Please, gods, do not let him suffer for me. Wherever he is, please, protect him from harm. Keep him safe.”

You’d gone to bed that night without bothering to dry off, the lightest of layers heavy on your skin as hushed prayers and pleas for his safety left your lips while you held the letter he’d left you against your thudding heart.

Words have a way of failing you when he’s around, but that? It was so much easier. So much better when you couldn’t find language sufficient to let him know what you wanted to say.

He seems to understand, because then he’s releasing your skirts and grabbing the wooden tray of salves, gauze, and other medicinal solutions with his uninjured hand and, lost in his eyes, you don’t even realize he’s put it beside him until his voice finds you through it all.

You need not worry for me, my love. I have everything I need right here. I may have had to grow up faster than everyone else around us, but I would do it all over again if it meant that you would be mine.

You only notice your hands are empty when you go to brush your forehead against his, your unoccupied hands lifting to cradle each side of his face as your eyes burn with the tears that threaten to fall.

“You are too good to me, alpha. I promise you that you will never have to be alone again. Not now, and not ever.” You pledge as you kneel between his legs, reaching for the thick roll of white translucent fabric with a loose, open weave. You take it between both hands, your mouth setting in a thin line as you rip it so that you have two moderately sized pieces while your alpha takes in the image of you on your knees before him.

“Nor do you, my love. I am officially yours now, just as you are entirely mine. No one can deny us from each other anymore.” He professes, lifting his unharmed arm so he can sweep your hair out of your face while you work.

It was no small thing to allow an omega to do this. The action was something of a rite that went back to the earliest of their ancestors. When an alpha was harmed in battle or in the hunt for prey, the omega that he let dress his wounds, by doing so, accepted the bond between them. To allow an omega to see an alpha at their most vulnerable…it was a very special, intimate moment.

And you knew of that. He knows because the thought surfaces in your mind the moment you daub the dry fabric against the top of each pectoral where four dark and furiously red lines curve diagonally downward and end on each side of his pelvis. Blood beads the incisions that Yoongi’s serrated claws had left, and the tears that had threatened to fall before fight against the entrapment of your eyelids as you try to blink them away.

“It hurts, doesn’t it, alpha?” You ask with the guilt weighing at your words as you uncork one of the small ovular vials containing a yellow liquid, the woody-sweet scent pungent in your nostrils as you use the oil left by crushed eucalyptus to clean your hands before you pour it onto the strips of fabric you’d just torn and after, you push the cork into the vial and set it down before you.

You let guilt drag each of your hands containing the gauze downward very lightly as you follow the large virgules of red. Where you normally would admire the strong, defined contours of his chest, now, the sight of it has woe whispering in your ear.

His skin is hot to the touch. As if fire burns under his flesh. So fuming and inflamed in the redness that surrounds the gaping, curling lacerations. Both sides of his sternum have been raked– no, ripped–through by sharp claws. Yoongi had cut into your mate’s skin eight blood red half-moons; four on either side of his chest that were turned away from each other, their ends incurving from the base of his neck all the way down his torso and even along his hip bones. Layers of crimson ooze and leak down his body like water, and the sight has something in your bosom tightening in on itself as your vision becomes cloudy.

Somewhere down between the middle of his pectorals, the cloths become too saturated and heavy with blood to soak up any more.

Perhaps the tangibility of his suffering is what finally has the tears falling down your cheeks, the burning in your eyes unavoidable no matter how many times you try to blink it away.

Despite that it feels as if fire sears him everywhere Yoongi’s claws had been, there is worse pain to be felt. Like the gut-wrenching punch that is delivered to his belly when he sees the first of your tears slide down your face.

With the hand he has on your chin, he tilts your chin up as he answers honestly, “Nothing harms me more than watching the light of my life weep for me.”

“I…I can’t help it, alpha.” You respond dolefully, your own stomach dropping to the bowels of your body at the high volume of blood he’s losing so quickly. He’d already turned the entire tub of water he’d been in red, and still he bled. If this kept on…

You don’t let that thought continue. You can’t.

You drop the sopping cloths into an empty glass container you’d put next to the roll of gauze only to take the roll between your hands once again. This time, you do not stop unraveling it until you have much thicker stretches of cloth folded into squares. You do not forget to grab the vial of yellow fluid once more, the viscous oil slow to make its journey to the cloths. You lightly press them against the spots you had had the other ones placed against. The second you put them to his mutilated flesh, they slowly turn crimson. The more they are stained with his lifeblood, the more you are soused with leaden compunction.

It burns, yes, but your sadness smolders him more.

“You are blaming yourself for this.”

It is not a question. It’s a statement.

You draggle each of the gauzes down along the underside of his pectorals, letting them rest there as you watch them turn completely red with his blood.

Momentarily, you wonder if the silvers he’d put on you before would be able to numb the contrition that pulls your spirits away from you.

Your mate will not have any of that.

He runs the pad of his thumb along your chin as he coaxes, “Peer into my eyes, Y/N.”

Unquestioningly, you do. He’s more than earned your obedience. What you see in the depths of those orbs is unending and bottomless in the plunge to the part of him that he would never show anyone else. The part of him that he had kept buried and sunken in wait for the right creature to unearth it. So many masks he had had to wear when so many had ulterior motives and designs around him, but this creature before him? He would break them all to pieces so she could see him for what he really was.

Once, he had asked his father how he would really know if anyone wanted him for him and not his power or his rank. His father had simply laughed and told him: You won’t. All you can do is watch and wait to see someone’s true colors when they think no one else is watching.

This creature before him who cried in the face of his pain and suffering did so out of pure, genuine sorrow. He could feel it sinking your spirits, your very thoughts through the bond. He could see it deep in the valley of your eyes that are, even in the guilt that tries to make them cloudy, drizzling with love for him.

There was no doubt in his mind that you were true and that you were absolutely, unequivocally his. That is why he allows the walls of his reservedness to crumble as he confides:

“Hear my words, my love. This is a result of my own weakness. I teased you before about you wanting to do this. But know that you are only in this situation because I wasn’t strong enough to do what I needed to do.” He doesn’t let go of your chin. With his other hand, he places it between your breasts. The action has him sucking his lip between his teeth as excruciating pain shoots through his upper bicep where the flesh has been torn from limb. A river of red gushes from the open wound, but it matters little to him when pangs of your heart are slower even than his as if it, too, was sulking itself in blame. Despite the way his split blood vessels cry more tears of blood in the movement, he goes on with a grimace, “I know what you’re thinking, my sweet, beautiful girl. You are not to blame for this. Do not pity me. Do not feel guilty for me. If anything, I should be the one pitying you for having to tend to me for such serious injuries.” He leans forward, his lips meeting the flesh between your brows, “I’m sorry you had to see that. And I’m sorry I didn’t come back to you with only a scratch. But I meant every word of what I said when I made that oath to you that I would protect you with my body. My body can be mended. My soul, if it lost you, could not.”

The male before you shouldn’t even be able to move in his condition.

And yet, he does.

For you.

Your own emotions crack and fracture under the seriousness of his words and unhesitant ministrations. Each is packed with the mass of his candor and you can’t stop yourself from pouring your heart out to him.

“You ask me to simply accept this…this agony that you must be feeling, alpha, and I,” you cry out,” I cannot! I care too much for you to simply turn off my emotions. I cannot do it!”

You lift the strips of soddened fabric away from his chest through eyes full of tears, your sight descending to where you hold them in your now shaking hands as you place those, too, in the same glass bowl as the others. “You ask me not to blame myself, but your wounds…they are there because of me. And they are serious. Serious enough that if this keeps on, you-“ Your sniffle, shaking your head in unwillingness to finish the unbearable thought. You take the gauzy roll in your hands once more and unwind it, you have to rely on muscle memory because at this point, the constant slew of tears is too much for you to see through.

Your alpha’s eyes soften as you try to rub at your own, your tear-streaked cheeks sullied by the tracks the salty water had left, the fresh blood that now covers your hands a stark contrast to the darker, dried blood he’d painted on you earlier during the Smearing.

Why did that make you look even more beautiful to him?

“I’m not asking you to simply turn a blind eye to your feelings, sweetheart. Such a task would be difficult for anyone with a heart to attain.” He brings his lips under one of your eyes, the tang of salt and iron left on his lips as he does. “What I ask is that you try not to blame yourself for my errors. It is my misjudgment that earned me more scars. These are not the first, and they likely will not be the last.” He turns his head so he can leave a soft, featherlight kiss under your other eye. “These scars shall be proof of the trial I had to face to earn you. And I would take hundreds of thousands more of these for you. If I had lost an arm or leg tonight, I would have been alright with it. Your smile and your happiness are worth that much to me.”

The sound of the white fabric shredding between your fingers is muffled under his voice. It’s as if your senses have been dulled to all but him. Even the firelight fails to crackle in your ears amidst the steady beat of his own heart while you tremblingly let the lip of the vial teem with the oil that smells of honey, mint, and citrus.

“My happiness should never come at the expense of pain or suffering, alpha,” you murmur mournfully as you eye the bawling gashes of scarlet.

You crimp the gauze into two thick squares once they have been wetted with the oil before holding them down over the underside of each of his pectorals. You wait until the part in contact with his frayed skin is steeped in scarlet before you flip each of them over and depress them along the arched curvatures going in opposite directions toward each side of his pelvis.

His lips tighten, wrinkles forming where none existed before when you tenderly wipe away at the jagged ends of each of the four lines on either hemisphere of his torso where Yoongi’s claw had pierced the deepest, not bothering to hide his expression from you now at his most vulnerable. There was nothing to hide now. No reason to keep his pain from you when he knew that doing so would just upset you more.

It pains you to see him like this. You wish there was a way for you to make it all disappear, but unfortunately, there were no medicinal or herbal remedies that had the power to do that.

“Such is our way, omega. It is my duty to protect you. I will never neglect that obligation if it ensures your safety." He hisses when you gingerly drag the gauze along the same path upward to collect the stray rivulets of crimson that had dripped from the top of his wounds.

The incinerating flare of flames feels like it is scorching him from the inside out under each slash and tear in his flesh left by Yoongi’s claws, and each time you attempt wiping away the bloody tears his body weeps, more of his life essence is there to replace it.

The oil offers a mild cooling sensation, but it is similar to throwing a block of frozen ice into a roaring bonfire.

You note the lack of stoppage of blood flow from those wounds, concern turning your lips down even more. What you had been reluctant to think about before was becoming all the more possible now. Even if you did keep trying to refuse it.

Worry soon lugs you asunder with the guilt that swims densely about you, and your brows furrow as you instruct, “Alpha, I need you to lie down now. You aren’t having any changes in the blood loss and I fear that something bad may happen if you lose too much more.”

He nods, but the action has a dot spotting his vision and no matter how many times he blinks, it remains. Soon, there are more. And as he holds your watery gaze, more tears trek down the contours of your cheeks.

Something in his chest twinges that has nothing to do with the wounds Yoongi had left.

“As you say, my love.” He brings one knee carefully up toward his chest, his foot resting on the edge of the wood as he asks “What will you have me to do with this arm of mine? It’s in bad shape.”

You grab the now near-empty vial of eucalyptus oil that you’d set on the ground between your knees and return it to its place on the tray, your mind easily supplying you with the answer to his question after having spent so many nights hunched over tomes about medicinal treatments and herbal remedies as you rise, one of your hands wrapping around his nape and the other laying itself over the palm he has pressed between your breasts. The arm that palm is connected to is the one that Yoongi had mangled such that you can see bone between the split mess of muscles bordering it.

You can only imagine how much agony he must be in. If you could take it into yourself, you would.

Not that he would let you, though.

His promise to you had been made not only out of love for you, but out of pride as an alpha. An alpha that could not protect their mate was not deserving or worthy of her. It was an alpha’s responsibility by right to be the source of security and protection for his omega. An alpha who could not guarantee that for his omega had failed her.

Or so the tradition had held.

“You need to relax this arm and let me maneuver it so that it rests by your side. What I’m about to do will require a certain position,” you urge him down by the back of his neck, and while you know your measly strength could never compete against his, the fact that he allows you to move him so readily is an obvious display of trust. His back is laid atop the bench first, and you are delicate in the way you guide his head down until it, too, comes to a rest on the wood. “And it…it will hurt. I’m going to have to move your arm so we do not risk further injuring it. After that, I will need to clean it before applying pressure where the worst of the damage is.”

With conviction clearer than any concoction you could give him, he asserts, “Do what you have to do. You know what needs to be done. You have trained and studied well. It goes without saying that you have my trust. All of it.” He adds.

Gods, you couldn’t have asked for a more perfect mate.

“Let me be the voice of reassurance this time, alpha,” you express while you curl your fingers around the hand of his that is placed along your sternum. Your other cups the underside of his forearm and, scrupulously, you usher it to his side before slowly and surely straightening it. He grimaces, and to distract him, you assure, “I’ll do everything I can to fix you. I promise, alpha.”

You monitor the bone in his arm that shifts in the movement, the middle of his humerus exposed and clearly fractured. From the dark line running perpendicular to the bone along the end closest to his elbow, you know instantly that he’s suffered from a transverse fracture to the bone. Honestly, you had expected worse with the way Yoongi had thrashed his head with Jungkook’s poor arm trapped between his teeth. Those teeth had managed to pierce halfway through the vessels and muscles lining his upper arm, the punctures still gushing blood.

It should have been impossible for him to have moved it. And yet…

“How did you move this arm when your bone has been broken, alpha?” You ask, swallowing the emotion that wants to be let out as you assess him.

His brows scrunch together and he answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “The pain was inconsequential next to the sadness that pooled in those pretty eyes.”

You fight the burning at the edges of your vision as you silently take your skirt between your fingers, the soft material pliable under your fingers. You don’t say anything. All you can do is let your hands work as you find the slit cut into it and tear along the line.

“What are you doing, my love?”

It is a question not asked out of doubt, but genuine curiosity.

The sound of ripping fabric ceases as you pull a sizable amount of the organza away from you and turn it inside out before placing it onto the tray beside his head and grabbing for the rectangular glass canister next to the eucalyptus oil.

I have to clean it. It’s infected already, and if I don’t get the bacteria out, your condition will worsen. Once I clean it, I will have to mobilize and brace it. A piece of my skirt should be the outer layer so as not to discomfort you.

You don’t trust your voice not to rupture, so you gently push the words to him through the bond as you grab the roll of cotton wool beside the gauze and unwind it before pressing it to your lips, closing your eyes, and silently begging for the mercy of the gods to take pity on him. To save him.

You knew what to do, but there was only so much that herbs and medicinal solutions could do.

You discard the thought like one of the blood-stained gauzes before you. You couldn’t afford to think like that. Especially not when you’d promised to put him at ease as he had always done for you.

When you bring the wool away from your mouth, you lift the lid from the container and the musky, earthy smell of the ginger poultice you’d prepared weeks ago joins the scent of muted iron in the air as you dip the wool into it several times to ensure its transfer onto the material.

The ginger will not hurt you, alpha. The pressure I will have to put on you will, however.

“I meant what I said, omega. Do what you need to do. I can take it.” He confides, opening his mouth so he can bite onto it.

I know, alpha. I know. More than anyone.

You pick up the considerably long, thick strip of wool from where you’d left it in a heap atop of the open poultice, bending over him before straightening it out so that it ran the length of his upper arm. Thankfully, it was just wide and long enough to completely cover his arm.

With one hand holding one end and your other hand on the other, you bring it down over the split skin from just under his shoulder to just above his elbow.

Just as you’d told him, there is no burning sensation as the gelatinous, thick solution is applied and spread across his sheared muscles, blood vessels, and bone. The blood spurting from the ruptures in his flesh is quick to permeate into the cotton, but you’d expected as much.

The ginger and eucalyptus have antioxidants, antibacterial, antiseptic, and disinfecting properties good for fighting infections. That’s why I chose to have Namjoon collect them from my personal store that I made.

Have I ever told you how attractive I find your intelligence?

Yes, alpha. You have.

You smile through the tears as you untwist more cotton wool from its spool, careful to lay it flat over the existing layer you’d just put over him. It, too, becomes saturated with his life’s essence within seconds.

He needed something else. Something to help boost the efficacy of the poultice. And you knew just the thing.

You scan the tray, evaluating the vials and containers left on it as you note the last addition you had yet to make. There, in the middle, was the small wooden box no longer than your hand and no taller than your pinky. You flip open the latch, the powder inside a brilliant yellow with the hint of orange tang under your nose.

His irises follow your every movement as you peel the layers of cotton wool up and off of him, disposing of them both in the same bowl as the other discolored fabrics.

When you unravel the dressings this time and steep them in the poultice, your other grabs a considerably sized clump of the crushed turmeric powder and sprinkles it all over his slashed open arm.

Three handfuls of that later, you are satisfied with the way the powder has been packed over the gash and surround it with several strips of the material lathered in the ginger solution.

The turmeric has curcumin in it, which can enhance granulation tissue formation and wound contraction. It also decreases inflammation and oxidation and can increase antioxidant capacity of the body, which means it helps fight compounds that could damage you.

The words are recited just as you had written them in one of your journals, and you busy yourself remembering that in lieu of your mind wandering to darker, scarier thoughts as his life’s essence clings to your hands while you rip apart more strips of cotton and run them all through the container of poultice.

Keep going, my love. Tell me more.

He feels the quiver of your hands as you lay each rectangular cloth down over his raw, chafed abrasions lining his chest, his uninjured arm wrapping around your thigh to steady you as his temples begin to ache.

The ginger root that this poultice was made from speeds along the healing process for cuts and abrasions among the other qualities it possesses. You won’t have to worry about these dressings falling off.

Underneath each dressing you affix to his front, his very cells feel as if they are being engulfed in an inferno. One that only blazes hotter every second that passes.

The gingerols and shogaols are compounds in it that will work as a natural adhesive to the cotton and to your skin without sticking or gluing it to you.

His second lack of response has you tilting your head in confusion.

You had said before that the poultice was not meant to feel like that, so whatever was happening, he was certain that you were not the cause. Perhaps it was just some strange side effect of blood loss? How odd that this sensation did not spread to his arm. He really should have studied more.

I’m fine, love. I think. My chest… it feels like I’m burning up from the inside. Have you any idea what that could be?

You’d read many books on herbology and medicine practices. None had ever described that as a symptom of blood loss.

With worry making your mouth go drier than cotton, you examine the way he blinks rapidly as if trying to get something out of his eyes.

W-what else ails you, alpha?

More dots have begun to occupy his sight, and no matter how many times he tries to close and open his eyes, they will not dissipate.

I cannot see properly. It is like there are dark circles blotting parts of my vision.

That was definitely a symptom of blood loss. But the burning sensations? That wasn’t characteristic of the lesions that had been cut into his skin. Nor was the ceaseless gush of scarlet from his chest injuries.

You recall the events that had brought you both here, identifying that it had only been Yoongi that had managed to harm your alpha. He’d been bitten on his arm and struck by claws on his chest. Two different points of contact with two different mediums.

You compare the two areas where he’d been mutilated, spotting the angered, puffed up flesh just that became more raised the closer it got to his now covered traumatisms on his torso. Like something was agitating it from the inside. His arm, however, mangled as it is, is not as badly puckered up around the gash despite the blood he’s losing. Which brings you to your next observation: His blood drips slowly and languidly from his chest wounds where it wells and spurts from his arm. With as deeply as Yoongi had pierced through him, he should have been losing more.

What is going on in that pretty head of yours, my love? Have you…have you discovered something?

There’s a slight pause between each of his unhurried words through your bond. As if it took effort to pull them forth.

You push through the distress that wants to drag you down, forcing yourself to focus and do everything that you could to aid him as you turn your attention to his arm now that you had taken care of his chest wounds.

You needed to stop the river of red that streamed down his arm. Without removing the cloth you’d set over it, you use your teeth to shear the white open-weaved fabric from the now nearly depleted roll it had once been spun around.

I will have to apply pressure as I said before to make sure the medicines set on the punctures in your arm. It…it’s going to hurt, alpha. If you want, you can bite onto my skirts. I don’t mind.

The offer earns you a nod, and so you rise to stand by his side and a wad of your skirt in your hands, hoping that he doesn’t mention the way that they shake as you do.

Forgive me, alpha.

It’s all the warning he gets before you place the dressings over the first layer covering his arm and push into the afflicted area, mindful of where his bone has been broken and avoiding that as you squeeze. Unlike the ruptures along his chest, this area does not nearly scald you.

He curses, his teeth grating into the fabric of your skirt as you apologize over and over again, guilt leaving tangible evidence of itself on your face while you cry for him.

Anyone else would have flinched, but not your alpha. No, he simply screws his eyes shut as he hisses through the material between his lips.

I’m sorry, alpha. I’m so, so sorry. But you have to stay like this for five minutes. I have to try to make the bleeding stop.

The dots that had been impairing his vision increase and the ache in his temples he’d felt before turns into a fierce throbbing as the world begins to dim around him while the claw marks along his chest ripple forth with black blood.

You perceive the way his eyes begin to flutter closed, the arm he’s wrapped around your thigh beginning to loosen. A tremble overcomes his body in the way that it suddenly is as if it’s gone down many degrees, and at that, a lump of dread drops into your stomach.

Not wanting him to slip into unconsciousness, you squeal. “N-no! Stay with me, a-alpha!”

Your voice cleaves through the barren desert that has set upon your throat.

I’m sorry, my love…I’m trying, but…it’s cold, yet my body feels like it’s on fire.

There are longer standstills between his words now. Like each one has to be dug up from the recesses of his mind.

Why has it suddenly become a….a blizzard in here? Why does…does my head feel…feel like someone is…is pounding… into it?

The dread in your belly is joined by another chunked mass of fear as his responsiveness slows with the unseen ice that encases and numbs him. When his good arm falls limply to his side from where it had been encircled around your thigh, you snivel, shaking your head vigorously back and forth as you whisper through a cracked voice, “No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be.”

As his eyelids tiredly droop, that’s when the panic grips your organs and wrings them out.

You had to stay strong. And you could not panic. Doing so would only stress him further.

But that thought is difficult to keep under the fleeting consciousness of your mate before you, who squeezes his eyes shut before opening them wide in effort to keep awake as you had instructed as he shivers.

You swallow around a brittle, sandy throat, wiping your hands on your bodice before your attention sifts around the room in search of something, anything, to help you. You start with the tray. The bowl of blood-soaked, soiled gauze and wrappings sits on its edge, the rolls of gauze and cotton wool in front of it. Next to them, the rectangular wooden box of turmeric powder remains beside the canister of ginger extract. Around them, the vial of eucalyptus lays on its side where the other glass containers of assorted colors and contents are placed. Three had been unused.

The first was a smaller brown bottle of oil secreted from crushed neem kernels you’d plucked from the seeds yourself. The second was a moderately sized canister of milk-colored paste you’d boiled and ground from coconuts. The last was a large flask of honey.

All would work to stop the bleeding. Five minutes had felt an eternity with his continually shallow breaths in your ear, his heart rate weakening under the lack of blood to push through his body. You hadn’t understood why your vocal cords felt so sore, but when you release him and the mewling coming from your mouth dies out, that answers the question.

You waste no time emptying the bottle of neem oil over each of his wounds as you sniffle, “Keep looking at me, alpha. Don’t go to sleep. I-I need you awake for me.”

Despite the gnawing pain in his temples and the ever increasing temperature that boils the parts of him under the skin of his thorax, he battles the darkness that wants to swallow him as he tries to stay in the light of your eyes that shine glassily down on him while you pour the honey, with unsteady hands, along each striation channeling his chest and arm before adding another lining of gauze over his crimson turned bandages.

“One more, alpha. One more, and then I can make a splint for your arm.” You don’t care anymore about the snot that runs down your nose with the tears trailing it as his skin begins to lose its color.

He nictates through bleary, dimmed orbs, and the sight twists your heartstrings.

You keep your hands busy, because you know the moment you stop is the moment he could slip through your fingers.

You cover both hands in the creamy mixture and with the first pass of your fingers against his sternum, you wrench your hand back in the overwhelming heat that scorches you like a blazing sun.

“You’re burning up, alpha.” The words are choked out. “It’s gotten worse.”

He says nothing. Doing so would cause it to sear him even more.

His pained expression is answer enough. And the discomfort of the sensation it had brought was nothing compared to what you knew he faced. For him, you would cross any sea of fire. For him, you would do this. No matter the cost.

So, you gently trail your fingers around the reddened, plowed planes of his chest to surround all sides of the new contours there in the substance.

You shake the canister over his arm so that thick dollops land over the flesh there so you can spread them around, too.

Once you’re certain no part of him is bereft of your attention, you straighten and scour the room for anything you could use as a splint. There alone atop the cabinet by the door, was a clipboard with paper. No doubt a visitor’s log.

It was the perfect length for his arm.

Before you leave his side, you check his vitals for any unseen changes. Still he attempts to combat the throes of sleep that wish to pull him asunder, but the most serious of his wounds have now been disinfected and dressed.

“Alpha,” you prod, “I’ll be right back, okay? I need to get something to stabilize your arm.”

You wait for him to give a slow incline of his head, the action causing him to wince as explosive pain fires through his temples.

You turn, but the watchful glance you keep on him remains as you make your way across the room. You do not miss the way his fingers along his good arm twitch as if searching for you.

Your fingers close around the edge of the board of wood, your own chest splintering at the sight.

You return to him within seconds, but gods, it had felt like hours.

This time, you walk over to the side of him where his bad arm now rests, one of your hands wrapping around the underside of his arm to coax it only an inch upward. He lets you so you can slip the board underneath it as you observe him for any fluctuations in symptoms. His pupils are stagnant and idle, but they do not stray from you even as his breathing begins to slow and his heart beats become fainter and fainter.

Worry sets in your veins as you take the piece of your skirts that you’d torn earlier and tie it around the board of wood and the bandages you’d put there.

When you press your index and middle finger to the pulsating vein along his neck, it beats feebly.

He needed to replenish the blood he’d lost before it was too late. And you knew, right then, exactly what you needed to do to fix that.

However, no matter how much you flipped through the pages of the books you’d read in your mind, the answer to his inquiries and asymptomatic conditions he’d alerted you to did not match what you knew of blood loss. Whatever he had described was clearly something else. Something that Yoongi must have done since he’d been the only one to successfully injure your mate.

Yoongi, who had bitten him on the arm and his claws on Jungkook’s torso where, surprisingly, Jungkook had explained the worst of his pain to be. Where you yourself had felt it to be in the irate ire of the wounds there so hot to the touch.

It is with that identification that you scrap the books you’d read about common ailments in lieu of one you’d been hunched over for many weeks trying to memorize in its abundance of knowledge. One that had detailed poisons and toxins. There was one that matched what you had seen and heard from him. One that, if introduced into the body, was capable of corrosive necrosis in cells and had sensations and symptoms that matched what he’d described. One that was odorless, colorless, and impossible to cure.

It must have been dappled on Yoongi’s claws. He must have known about the deadly poison carried by a large fungus that even necromancers hesitated to harvest. It was capable of causing the entire bodily organs and tissues to break down and feel as if they were burning in their degradation when the toxins turned the cells against each other.

Jungkook’s eyes close, and horror clods your ribs and bowels of your body.

You had to keep him awake. For fear of losing his life, you had to keep him from sinking into the darkness.

Stay with me, my mate. My alpha. My love. Please, don’t leave me.

The words course like a ravine through the bond, the waters of your affections evident in the tracks they leave down your cheeks as you lift your leg up and over so you can sit astride him, desperation making you move before your mind can. The raindrops of your sadness fall over him like a fall downpour, and soon, his entire chest is wet with the salve of your handmade solutions and sadness.

The longer his eyes stay shut, the closer he dangles to that dangerous idea you’d kept rejecting and denying. That idea became more real by the moment.

You promised me, alpha. You promised me that you wouldn’t leave me! I can’t do this without you!

Distress takes control as the rush of thoughts spill from you and you bring your hand to your teeth that you had subconsciously sharpened in the iron that now falls across your tongue.

I can’t do this without you, alpha. Life without you was life without meaning. Life without you was like having silver thrust on me every day from the moment I woke to the moment I fell asleep: gray, senseless and deadening.

Something warm trickles from the sides of your lips when all of your now edged, serrated upper teeth easily prick and slice through your palm and you suck a mouthful between your lips.

The taughtened muscles around his eyes and mouth slacken, the movement of his irises behind his lids moving this way and that. As if he was still trying to search for you in the darkness. The gentle thud of his heart is all that you hear in your ears anymore. No other sounds matter.

You speak to him through it, hoping with everything in you that doing so will give him something to hold onto.

I love you, alpha. I love you more than anything in this world. So please, come back to me. Come back to me so I can express it to you, show it to you, and make more wonderful, beautiful, colorful memories with you.

You take his chin between the fingers of your other hand, lifting it before using your thumb to part his lips.

With the hand you’d just bitten, you hold it over his mouth only to turn your palm to the side before curling your digits in, your nails sinking into the fragile flesh to cut into it so that more streaks of crimson dribble down, the dark drops of your blood falling between his lips.

Adam's apple bobs as he tries to swallow it, but it’s not enough.

As you watch your blood spread across his tongue, you can’t help but notice how his skin has gone whiter than sleet, his usual golden glow drained with his life’s essence as he continues to shudder beneath you.

The faint presence of him dwindles in the bond like candlelight that the cold darkness schemes to snuff out, but still he is kindled in yours as you lean forward, your mouth seeking him.

Take my blood, alpha. Drink and replenish what you have lost. It is the only way.

The last sound of you is tucked in his mind just as your mouth slots itself over his, the mouthful of your blood that you had drawn forth from your hand soon emptied into his as he swallows it weakly. You mindfully set your bleeding hand between the middle of his sternum, the thick redness sobbing for him, too, as it spreads down his torso and seeps into the coverings draped across his chest.

With the first swill of you down his throat, the throbbing in his temples begins to dull and the air around him starts to warm.

It’s as if your blood had passed life into him, for his tongue eventually sweeps at the excesses of your mouth for the remnants that percolate from the small scrapes your teeth had left in your cheeks. You let him lick it, and with each pass of his tongue over each one, the muscle beating under your hand on his chest beats steadier. Stronger. Louder.

He required more. Way more after all that he had lost. And you? You intended to give it to him.

When he’s lapped all of your quintessence up, you pull away only to bring the hand you’d bitten to his lips in offering.

With his eyes still closed, he can’t see it, but he can smell it.

The tang of iron is powerful enough to summon his mouth to it, his baser being taking over as he closes his mouth around your open palm.

His teeth pierce through you easily and when your blood bursts forth from the punctures and he sups it without hesitation.

The violent, searing pain stemming from the claw marks along his torso where your blood had permeated through his bandages starts to lessen amid the ache that is dispelled in his skull. The quavering of his body soon ceases in the absence of the chill he’d felt before.

He wraps his lips tighter around you, and when he extracts your essence this time, it is with more urgency.

You run your other hand through his dark, ebony hair, the color slowly returning to his cheeks as he drinks from you.

“Take as much as you need, my love. You will require quite a few mouthfuls to, ah-“

You pause when he detaches from your hand, licking at the stray droplets of your blood before gripping your forearm to bring your wrist to his nose so he can inhale and run his lips longingly along it. His head falls back as he does, the pink muscle slipping between his lips to taste the remnants of you there, too.

“Want to…bite you…right here. Can I?” He asks hoarsely yet huskily.

You’re already answering before he’s even finished. “I’m all yours, alpha.”

The implications of this are not lost on you. By puncturing your scent glands where they produce the oils and scent of you the most–seconded only by your neck–his bite will forever leave his trace where he’d enter you. No other wolf would be able to take in your succulent smell without his lingering odor behind it.

From where you are seated on his lap, you swear you see his eyes roll back behind his lids.

When his canines elongate such that they protrude from his upper lip and he penetrates your flesh along the middle of your wrist, your blood eagerly teems into his mouth. Just like the first time he’d bitten you, there is no pain in the sharpness of those teeth. What was urgency before becomes hunger now as he feeds on you, his cheeks hollowing as he quaffs the life-giving nectar you have produced just for him.

You shudder as he draws deep, gulping mouthful after mouthful and all the worry you’d had before is sapped away as he does.

Your flavor is so fucking saccharine on his tongue, and each time your essence washes down his throat, his body surges with vitality and energy.

He can’t get enough of it. It’s too good. You’re too good.

More he takes and more he swallows like a crazed male, and you allow it as your own lids lower while you ogle him as the released endorphins stored in the glands along your wrist flood you in pleasure as you mindlessly–instinctively– rut your hips into his.

“Do I taste good, alpha?” You moan softly, your body growing limp as the fingers you’d twisted and twined around his locks loosen.

You taste sweeter than sweet.

His good arm shoots out so his fingers can splay around your hip to steady you as he indulges in the pulses and pangs of strength that return to him with each consuming swig of your lifeblood, your hips helped back and forth by the hand he has on one of them as your moans turn to whimpers.

You taste something like pineapple, grapes, strawberries, and everything good in this world.

When his eyes open, he looks at you like you’re a fucking goddess. Like you’re some kind of deity, and he is some servant beneath you.

He revels in the revelation that graces him as he takes in the sight of you atop him.

Your crimson-stained lips have slightly fallen ajar to reveal still jagged, pointed canines, remnants of red still flecking the sides of your mouth. Your silver irises have been glazed by desire, the daubing of crimson along your lids creating a deprived picture.

The dried, dark paint of his own blood that he’d smeared all over you was still there, but the new addition of his scarlet handprint between your breasts and streaks the same color all along your skirt and bodice are all the more depicting of a debased creature.

You straddle him, your gown ripped unevenly along one of your legs to reveal one bare calf and thigh.

How he had fucking ruined you.

His once pure, innocent goddess that must have been a fallen, divine being sent to him to save him.

“J-Jungkook,” you whine when your vision begins to darken at the edges as his teeth bury themselves deeper into your flesh so he can cravingly command more of you down, “I…I-“

The strong hand on waist pulls you down over his hardening member, your breath hitching when you remember he’s entirely naked beneath you.

“Even goddesses have their limit. I can see it,” he groans around your wrist as he savors the way you sag forward, your thighs loosening from where you’d been squeezing him between them. “I can feel it.”

He takes one more mouthful of your rich, piquant ichor, your front slumping forward until your head rests in the crook of his neck.

With your jugular vein so close to his ears, the rhythm set by the tune of your heart beats far too slow. The sound snaps him out of his craze instantly as the hand on your waist clutches you tighter as if you might slip away if he doesn’t hold you close enough.

“Goddess? Do you mean…me?” You drawl out the words through the tingling sensation in your head.

Despite the loss of your blood, affection courses through you when he attentively dislodges his teeth from you and makes sure to catch the bright red drops that run forth from the two new dark blots along the underside of your smaller wrist. As he does, he affirms, “You saved me.”

The hand at your waist gives you another comforting squeeze before it journeys up along your side, your shoulder, and then down your arm until his digits close around your wrist so he can rub soothing circles into it. “I was so lost in the darkness, omega, but your voice…I followed it back to you.”

“Me?” It’s all you can say. The rush of endorphins fades with the extraction of his teeth, and your hips slow to still as his words sober you.

One side of his lips turn up at that. “Yes, my love. You.” He coaxes your wrist upwards so he can kiss you where his teeth and yours had been. “You, the light of my life. The reason for my being, The purpose of my existence.” His head falls to the side as he shepherds your hand toward the palpitating muscle along his chest. “I once thought of you as my queen, but I see now that you’re so much more than that.” He places your hand right above his heart, and you’re so mesmerized by those beaming irises of gold that you don’t even realize what he’s done when those warm, calloused fingers brush along the side of your cheek until they rest in your hair and his palm holds the edge of your jaw to coax it upward as he brings his mouth near to yours. “Your voice is a song that even the muses envy. Your body is the drink of the gods that even they would fight wars for. Your mind and soul are so perfect and good that even demons would wish they could bottle them.”

His eyes twinkle with sincerity as he goes on, both fondness and affection for him taking turns to cleanse you of the desire you’d felt before so that something much deeper can fill your entire being.

“Shhh, alpha… you need to rest now. This can all wait until later.” Your words are throaty and full, for your heart has somehow found its way there, too. “You lost a lot of blood and-“

He seals your mouth with his, and like wax under a newborn wick, you melt into it. He’s warm and gentle in the warmness that he emanates that no candle ever could. The quiet intimacy of it has your lids falling to a close, the air around you making way for you both as you share each other’s breath.

There was nothing quite like this. Nothing like the way that your fingers sought any part of him that they could as they both encircled his uninjured wrist, unwilling to let him go. Nothing like the way your body was perfectly molded against his, the kiss akin to a butterfly’s wing in its softness that could take your breath away. It was the water that quenched after a drought. It was the furs that gave such comfort on a winter’s night. It was the rain and a flame all at once.

And gods, he couldn’t bear even a second’s separation from her. Truly, he’d never been so blessed with the gift of life until now. Until you. Hell would surely have frozen over before he would relinquish this: your mesmerizing, mellow eyes; your pliant, pretty lips; your stuttered, stammered breaths whenever he looked at you; your smaller, tinier hands that loosed and tightened around his wrist as he held you.

But his damned lungs just had to get some air, and so he had been forced into breaking the kiss.

When his mouth parts from yours, he breathes heavily. “I do not need rest when I have you. Imaginings and visions leave little to be desired when their source is on top of me like this. And,” the other side of his lips lift up and you’re sure that thudding in your ears gets louder as he does, “It would be rather impolite not to pay my respects to you, my divine little deity. You were–are–magnificent.”

You try to hide your face in his neck, your cheeks heating up at his praise. He won’t have any of that, and so he urges it back up.

Looking into those eyes is like looking into two orbs spun by the sun. That warmth that emanates over your skin like warm rays makes everything else lackluster, and even his voice carries that vivid color of emotion as he voices, “Do not hide from the truth, my love.”

You make a sound of questioning, not understanding what he’s just said. It’s as if there’s a fuzzy blanket around your body and mind, your disoriented thoughts too sluggish to formulate for you to say much more.

He chuckles lightly, his chest moving up and down gentle enough to not jostle you.

“You do not know it, but I shall help you see.” He offers, nosing at your jawline as he does. “Allow me to show you what you did to me, my love. I think you’ll find the evidence of your miracles when you do.”

He releases you, a quiet whine leaving your lips at the absence of his touch. Soft lips are there to soothe you when his mouth brushes where his hand had been at the edge of your jaw. There he presses his lips as he tells you, “Look down, my love.”

You’d been expecting to see more blood spilling from the open wounds arcing down both sides of his chest, his bandages completely soaked through with his life’s essence.

You did not expect to see one of the lines of gauze you’d laid down over the lacerations lifted in the air by your alpha to reveal a deep gash completely closed, the angry red slash now only a faint line of pink.

As if it were nothing but an old war scar.

At first, you think you might be seeing things.

You blink owlishly at him, and he grins only to pull back another strip of fabric that you’d used to pack another wound.

It, too, is only a faded, paled remnant of what it had been minutes ago.

Your fingers lethargically draw down his torso where the flesh that had been raised and furious is now smooth and normal.

There is no pain that festers there with the poison that had been set upon him by Yoongi’s claw. Its dissipation had had nothing to do with your medicines. He knows that now. It had been you.

Your lids have begun to grow heavy as sleep begins to beckon, and all you can do through the drowsiness that has set as you rest one of your temples against his shoulder so you can still stare at him as you manage the only word you can summon in your dumbfounded state. “How?”

“My mother used to tell me stories about our ancestors. It was said that the first rulers of our kind, who were chosen by the gods, were given abilities no others possessed.” Your mate tosses the soiled dressings into the bowl before he reaches for his splinted arm wrapped in bandages. “Abilities that made the rest of our kind lower their heads in awe.” He unties the knot you’d made out of the ripped fragment of your gown you’d affixed the wooden board to, and while he does, he tells you, “She told me that the king and queen of our kind were fated by their souls. That the first omega’s songs of mourning had so moved the gods when he’d been killed trying to protect her that they gave her the power to heal him through her kiss.”

Slumber drags you away from him, his voice fading the more it tugs and tugs you as he goes on. “So powerful was she that the other wolves revered her as a goddess in her capacity to mend and restore not only the physical body, but the soul and mind as well. And her king? He was vested by the gods who took pity on him with strength, speed, size, and stamina that no other could match.”

Distantly, you think you see a glimpse of the linens you’d put around his arm being peeled back to uncover what you had thought had been a mangled mess of bone and flesh. But no longer. Now, just like his chest, there are only small grazes and punctures that have since been pulled together with slightly darker cicatrix marring him.

When your lids fall closed and sleep takes you from him, he uses that arm to secure you close as he attentively watches over you. In your ear, he confides, “Rest up now, beautiful deity. You shall need it for what is to come, my love.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts writing #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts scenarios #bts #jungkook bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #alpha!jungkook #alpha!jungkook x reader #dom!jungkook #sub!reader

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borathae · 25 days ago

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↳ Index [Day 31 - Werewolves]

Pairing: Alpha Dom!Jungkook x f. Omega sub!Reader

Genre: childhood best friends to enemies to lovers!AU, werewolf!AU

Warnings: Kook is kinda cold at first, it is implied that OC gets sold into a forced marriage where she will be tortured and assaulted (not to Kook but a villain character hahaha), yeah...her future is not looking good, or is it?, Koo might have a plan :----)

Kinks: the trope of "just the tip" and "we shouldn't be doing this", yeah besties i went there, sex in a shed in the forest, sex by the bonfire, nudity, naked cuddling for warmth *wink wink*, he is bigger and stronger than her, size & muscle & strength kink, he pins her down, fuck i'm literally so small when it comes to him like bro please i have so many thots, hahah sorry i'm really into him haahah, he pins her wrists & puts his hand over her mouth to silence her, huge werwolf dick, knotting, multiple orgasms for both, "just the tip" in spooning position, clit massages, rough penetrative sex in pronebone & doggy style, he has her in a headlock at one point, breeding for the sake of scent marking her, so much fucking cum oh lord, dirty talk, he has fangs, he bites her shoulder, he growls, what if i was weak?? what then??, tears, eye contact, this is emotional & has plot and i wanna write more about them, cuddly & safe aftercare, the plot in this is so good omfg

Wordcount: 11.5k

a/n: Click here if you wanna see his dick. I have zero (0) Z E R O knowledge of the workings of the omegaverse. i know that there’s alphas and betas and omegas but that’s it. and that there is heat and knots and slick and scenting(?) but how the dynamics work or what ABO each means? no clue. so if this is inaccurate, bear with me and let's see it as my interpretation of werwolves instead. Okay? Okay. Jjssjjs i also added this idea to the mix ps: i actually don't wanna talk about this, i need to recover first BRO GOODBYE this was kinktober 2024 besties FJJDF what a way to end it tbfh

The storm caught you by surprise. You wouldn’t particularly mind it if it wasn’t for the company you have to keep.

Jeon Jungkook. A stubborn, self-centred peacock of a man who thinks he is something just because he is the son of the alpha.

Now, to perhaps understand the situation a little better, one might need what the literary world calls backstory.

You lived in a small mountain town far away from any big human city. The town was surrounded by high walls and visitors rarely found their way to it. It was wanted by the townspeople because you weren’t particularly human. Most humans would call you demons, but you like to call yourselves werewolves. You lived in a pack and the town was your lair.

You can be human but also turn into a wolf by choice. Some choose to keep some of their wolfish features such as their golden eyes or sharp fangs, while others looked entirely human when they walked on two legs.

Jeon Jungkook was the son of the pack alpha and therefore heir of the title. His mother was an alpha as well, which naturally gave him the alpha gen. He was stronger and faster than the other wolves in the pack and he had control over his body during the full moon. He never hid his fangs and showed his golden eyes whenever he was provoked. He earned his pack tattoos when he was twelve after killing three enemy wolves and when he turned eighteen, he earned the pack piercings after fulfilling the maturity rituals within a day. Something only his father managed to do before him.

Ever since that day, Jungkook became even more obnoxious and unlikable than he already was.

You weren’t so lucky. Born as an omega into a normal family with normal siblings in a normal house, your life has been pretty…normal. You are the same age as Jungkook, which naturally made you go to the same classes from elementary to high school. And throughout your academic career, you never learned to like him.

He was an alpha while you were an omega. You were the only one like this from your family, but they never treated you differently. You were a beloved and cherished family member and therefore lived a normal life until your older brother made a mistake and you had to carry the consequences.

He killed the promised omega wife of the enemy’s alpha’s son. The warring alpha wanted to slaughter the entire town at first, but Jungkook’s father persuaded him to take revenge another way. Take one of the village’s omegas and marry her to his son. “She will be complacent and quiet. Once she is married, she will be your property. You can take out your anger on her.” So Jungkook’s father told him and the enemy alpha agreed happily. One night later, you were dragged from your home with no way to escape your future. You were born this way, it wasn’t your fault and now it would be your death sentence. You cursed your brother that night who begged to be taken in your stead. You told him to choke on it. It was the last thing you said to him and probably will ever say to him. You already started to regret it.

Jungkook was ordered to make sure that you would arrive at the enemy village safe and sound. It has been three days ever since that night and all your hatred for anyone and anything has been directed solely at him.

“The rain’s annoying me. Let’s take shelter”, Jungkook says dryly.

“No.”

Jungkook glares at you.

“Yes”, he hisses, grabbing your arm by your elbow to drag you to a shed nearby. “I’m not gonna walk in the rain. Besides, it’s late. We need to rest.”

“Let go of me”, you protest, stumbling after him. There isn’t much that you can do. He is stronger and bigger and because of his status, he naturally has almost instinctive control over your actions. You could fight against these instincts, but it’s a lot easier not to.

“Would you rather get sick in the rain?”

“Maybe, yes. Maybe I’ll get sick enough to die. At least like this, I won’t be sold into torture”, you spit, ripping yourself free from his grasp. Again, all your hatred and anger is directed towards him, so it is easy to fight your instincts right now.

Jungkook gawks at you in surprise.

“I mean it”, you insist.

He frowns. He steps close and lifts you off the ground, throwing you over his shoulder.

“Hey! Let me down, you fuck!” you yell, flashing your fangs and kicking around you.

Jungkook merely shoulders you better and walks, frowning deeply.

“You brought this onto yourself.”

“I hate you. I fucking hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. You big, smelling piece of shit.”

Jungkook kicks the shed open and drops you. You stumble in surprise, but catch yourself pretty quickly. You and he are mere inches away, sharing air. The constant lighting cutting the sky illuminates your angry faces. You and Jungkook have your golden eyes out and show off your fangs. Your bodies are steaming as your increased body heats dry the water.

“I’m gonna let it slip because we were classmates, but insult me again and I will make you be quiet. Understood?” he gnarls.

You step closer, making him taste your words.

“Go kiss my ass.”

You turn your back to him and stomp further into the shed.

The shed wasn’t much bigger than ten square meters. There were tools on each wall and some tools scattered around the ground. Clearly it was meant as storage for woodworkers. One corner had neat stacks of wood and on a table, some blankets were stacked in case some of the workers needed to stay the night.

“Great. That’s luxury, isn’t it?” you grumble.

The door slams closed behind you, making you flinch. You don’t look however, wanting to appear stronger than you feel. In truth, you are scared and alone and heartbroken. You are frightened. You are sad. You are afraid. You are helpless and hopeless. And you are only a little bit angry. As you walked, you couldn’t stop crying. You were happy for the rain because it masked the constant tears running down your face and you were happy for the loud thunder masking your sobs.

You are being sold like property to a man who will torture you for sports. All you want is to be home and to be held and to have someone pay for your fucking therapy because, goddamn, you are going to need a hell lot of therapy if you should survive this.

Jungkook is the last person you want to be with right now. He lacks empathy and kindness and has a tendency to impulsive anger. You are waiting for him to hurt you after slamming the door, frozen on the spot.

But it doesn’t come. Instead, he swerves past you to get firewood. You can only watch him, frozen like a scared little girl despite having long moved past your second decade on this cruel earth.

Jungkook uses his claws to ignite the fire by scratching them over a stone. He blows into the amber until it forms flames, then he stands up. He hooks his fingers in his shirt and takes it off.

You gasp and look away. You don’t know what he is going to do but it scares you. Is he going to test you out now? Make sure that the alpha is going to get a good delivery?

“Relax. I need to dry my clothes and I can’t do that on my body. I’ll catch a cold otherwise.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook scoffs and starts unbuckling his belt. You watch his tattooed fingers work. He is wearing heavy silver rings on them. Yep, your people can handle silver without pain. It’s only a myth that it hurts you. Just as garlic being lethal for vampires is a myth. Humans like to tell these tales to sleep better at night.

Jungkook begins taking off his pants, meeting your gawking eyes.

“Stop staring and bring the blankets instead.”

“Oh, uhm. Sorry.”

You instinctively obey.

“Make a bed by the fire. Away from the door.”

You obey again.

Afterwards you lift your head, having to gasp and stare. What? Stare? Why can’t you look away?

He is completely naked, currently hanging up his clothes on a chair. You should want to look away but you can’t. His body is sculpted, his muscles well defined. He currently has his back turned to you. It is so big and broad, contrasting against his small waist. Shit, his legs and butt are so big and sculpted in comparison to it. His back is covered scars. Slashes, bite marks, cuts. Some seem to have dug very deep when fresh.

“Just spit it out”, Jungkook hisses, rolling his shoulders which makes his back muscles shift and flex.

“What?”

“I can feel you staring. Just say what you wanna say.”

“Your back. It’s covered in scars.”

Jungkook touches his own back, tracing the scars he can reach.

“I guess it is.”

“Who did this to you?”

“Too many people to count.”

“What happened to them?”

“The fact that I’m still here and they’re not, should be answer enough. Shouldn’t it?”

You gulp.

Jungkook turns.

You gulp even harder. Look away! You know that no matter how hard you beg your eyes, they won’t look away. It is like they are enchanted.

His pecs are big, clearly sculpted and strong. His stomach is defined, carrying scars as well. But what truly catches your eyes is his cock. Sitting under a dark, masculine bush of pubes, it glistens in the shine of the fire. It is big, even soft, a little tanner than the rest of his skin and sitting against a pair of big, plumb balls made for breeding. So this is what the cock of an alpha looks like. The effect it has on you is embarrassing. You feel slick build up in your holes and saliva collect in your mouth.

“Quit your staring. It’s like you’ve never seen a dick before.”

You shake out of your trance, looking away in embarrassment. Your face feels on fire. Holy fuck, what is wrong with you?

“You have seen dick before, right? Weren’t you and Tae a thing in high school?” he talks as he gets under the blanket.

“Uh, yeah, uh. We were.”

“And knowing Tae, he fucked you. Didn’t he?”

You turn away in embarrassment, rubbing the side of your neck. Of course he did, but Jungkook doesn’t need to know that.

He figures it out instantly however, glancing at your middle when you aren’t looking. Just for a second, nothing more.

“So stop being weird about it”, he says and lies down.

You shrink. Jungkook studies you. You are trembling in your wet, cold clothes. He pities you.

“Get naked and hang your clothes up to dry”, he orders.

You want to move in obedience at first, but then stop. You are too scared to obey instinctively.

“No. Close your eyes.”

Jungkook groans and closes his eyes.

“You’re so stuck up. You should practice being naked in front of other people. I heard that Alpha Urquard likes for his pack to watch wedding nights.”

You bite down tears. Great. Not only will you be assaulted, it will happen in front of god knows how many people. What if you just throw yourself onto one of the sharp tools? It would be a bitch way to go, but it’s better than what will happen to you.

You ogle the pitchfork. Maybe you could do it. Maybe.

“Hey!”

You snap out of it. You whip around, meeting Jungkook’s eyes.

“Hurry up and come here.”

“What?”

“Come here. It’s better than over there.”

You ogle the pitchfork then his darkened face. Did he figure you out?

“I’m not gonna repeat myself. Get out of your wet clothes and come to me.”

“Ple-please close your eyes.”

Jungkook sighs in defeat and obeys. With shaking fingers, you get naked. With trembling knees, you walk to his side. With weak muscles, you get under the blanket next to him. There is only one blanket and you try your fucking hardest not to touch his body in any kind of way. He left you the spot closer by the fire so you were warmer and he could oversee the door.

Jungkook, who senses your presence, opens his eyes. He studies your face, then your body. You have the blanket pulled up to your neck, shivering uncontrollably. Even now, you seem plagued by the cold.

He furrows his brows in distaste and closes the distance. He manages to put his arm around you before your quiet beg freezes him.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

He moves away, studying you in shock. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your fingers are trembling as you grasp the blanket.

“Why would I hurt you?”

The honest confusion in his voice forces you to open your eyes.

The fire casts deep shadows into his face as much as it illuminates other parts of it. His wet hair is drying slowly, sticking to his wrinkled forehead. He is furrowing his brows which explains the wrinkles.

“Why would I hurt you?” he repeats his question with more urgency.

“I don’t know.”

“I was ordered to make sure that you arrive unharmed to Urquard. The last thing I’ll do is hurt you.”

“Please don’t.”

“Please don’t?”

“Don’t make sure that I arrive safely.”

Jungkook blinks in surprise. Such vulnerability isn’t what he expected from the once feisty, rude woman of before. You are tiny in fear, trembling uncontrollably and begging him with greyed, hopeless eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re gonna be an alpha’s wife. That’s every omega’s dream”, he snarls, sounding weirdly jealous.

You burst into tears instantly, turning your back to him as you curl into a small ball. You wail loudly, unable to pretend any longer. You don’t want to be married off. You don’t want it.

“No, uh… stop crying. I, I’m ordering you to stop crying”, he panics, hissing his words which only makes you cry harder.

He stares for a while, fumbling with his words. In the end he doesn’t know what to say, turning off his brain to speak from his heart instead.

“Don’t cry, it’s gonna be okay”, he says softly, rubbing your shoulder.

His touch is tender and soothing. You sob despite it or perhaps because of it. It feels so weird to receive because it is nice.

“Hey, it’s okay”, he tells you, draping his arm over you. Like this, your bodies are touching under the blanket. He feels so warm against your skin. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“It’s not gonna be okay. I’m being sold like a pig to a man who likes to watch his daughters in law get raped in front of the entire pack and who will use every second of his life to torture me.” You shrink into yourself. “I just wanna die. I’m so scared.”

“Hey no, don’t say that. Don’t be scared, I’m here.”

“I heard that Urquard killed his first wife by ramming a medal hook into her stomach and hanging her like this. All because she couldn’t give him a child with the alpha gen. Please just kill me, please.”

“I’m not gonna kill you, ___.”

The last time Jungkook said your name, you and he were both eleven and played adventurers in the forest. He celebrated his twelfth birthday two weeks later and another two weeks later, he killed those three wolves and got his tattoos. He stopped playing with you and stopped saying your name. Quite frankly, he stopped playing with any children since that day, saying stuff like “a man wouldn’t play stupid stuff” or “my father says that it’s weak to play” and he became quiet and distant. Maybe he became sadder as well and lonelier.

Your name from his tongue after almost fifteen years forces you to turn in his arms. For just a second, the same innocent and playful boy looks back at you before you blink and come back to reality. His features and eyes are still the same shape and colour but he seemed to have grown into them. His left cheek carries a scar these days and his brows are furrowed more than they are relaxed.

“I’m not gonna kill you, ___. And I’m not gonna let you kill yourself either.”

“So you would rather see me sold to a monster?” You squeeze out tears of anger and frustration. “I hate you so much. You sadistic, heartless piece of shit.”

Jungkook frowns deeper.

“You alphas are all the same. You think just because you are stronger than the rest of us, you can push us around like cattle. We aren’t cattle. We are people, we live normal and good lives. We are nothing special but that’s good. We’re boring and mundane but we love deeply. Unlike you disgusting, selfish alphas who see us as nothing but merchandise.”

“Are you done now?”

“I’ve only started. You are heartless, selfish, self-absorbed, apathetic and a snob. At the spot where your heart once was, a rotten piece of coal is sitting and when you talk, plants die out of spite.”

“Anything else you like to add?”

“You are the worst person to ever exist. You are elitist and stubborn and way too obsessed with status. And you…” Your eyes fill with tears. “...you broke my heart before I even knew what heartbreak was.”

Jungkook’s eyes darken in an unfamiliar emotion. Guilt? Regret? More anger?

“We did everything together until one day, you decided that I wasn’t good enough anymore. For fuck’s sake, we were twelve and you acted like I was embarrassing for doing stuff kids our age were allowed to do.”

“You think that I had a choice?” He finally speaks up and you get a feeling that it was your turn to listen. “I stopped being a kid in my father’s eyes the day I killed those wolves. I didn’t wanna push you away, but father made me.”

“What?”

“I became his heir that day, I sealed my fucking fate. I had to stop playing a-and doing kid’s stuff. He forced me to train day in and out. I had to be the perfect man. I was twelve, for fuck’s sake. I was a fucking kid who wanted to play adventurers in the forest with, with his….with his best friend.”

The silence which follows after his confession is deafening. Fifteen years of hating him. Fifteen years of thinking that he hated you. And all this time, he only acted like this because his father made him. You meet his emotional eyes, feeling emotional yourself.

“I was your best friend?” you whisper.

He nods his head, biting down on his lower lip to stop it from trembling.

“I miss you, ___”, he presses out.

You feel lost for words. You are so shaken in fact that you can’t even find it in you to cry. Fifteen years. Fifteen years of hating him for what he did and wishing for an apology you thought would never come and here it is. His confession. His apology.

“It’s been fifteen years and I still do. I miss you and I’m sorry.” He cups your face, wiping away the remnants of tears. “I’m so sorry.”

You stare. And stare. And stare.

“Please say something”, he whispers.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just anything, please.”

“You’re the most selfish piece of shit I have ever seen.”

Jungkook’s face falls in shock. His eyes show how much your words hurt him.

“Why tell me your stupid apology now? Why confess to me now? Knowing that I will be sold into a life of sex slavery and torture?” You hit his chest. “Why tell me now when you literally deliver me to my fucking death? You piece of shit, you’re selfish and cruel and I want you dead.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. You and your entire family and the rest of the pack. Die. All of you just die.”

You hit him with more vigour. More and more and more.

“Enough”, he stops you, pinning your wrists into the ground and with it, rendering you helpless, “stop hitting me, please.”

You spit at his face.

Jungkook flinches back. He sits up and wipes it away.

“What the fuck? You spat at me. Why would you do that?”

“Go to hell and shove your sappy confession up your sadistic ass”, you hiss. You feel no ounce of remorse for what you did.

Jungkook wipes your spit into the blanket and moves quickly. He puts your wrists together and pins them above your head. Before you can spit again, he puts his other hand over your mouth, rending your legs useless as well by slinging one of his muscular legs over yours.

There is no fabric between your bodies. You are skin against skin. Raw and naked and hot. You can feel his dick against you and you know that he can feel your tits against his arm. You are rendered useless, vulnerable to whatever he plans to do to you now that spat at him. You are scared, but you are also droopy. It is that same droopiness you felt when you looked at his naked body. Except stronger and more unbearable. You are hotter and there is slick gathering in your holes. You can barely breathe, but maybe this is because of his hand over your mouth.

“Stop fighting me and listen”, Jungkook talks with his lips close to your face. You can’t stop staring at them. You fight him while your mind goes droopy at the sight of his lips moving. “You can either go to your new life or listen. Are you gonna listen?”

You nod your head.

“Good. I’m gonna pull my hand away now and you won’t spit at my face again. Promise?”

You nod hesitantly.

“Good. I trust your word.”

He pulls his hand away, keeping his arm around you. It lies exactly over your tits, rubbing against your nipples. You know for a fact that he is able to feel it. You curl your fingers, trying so hard not to get affected by his closeness. Or to make a sound for that matter.

“I said this stuff to you because I wanna make it right between us. Your brother fucked up, but what Urquard did in retaliation is crazy and what father allowed is insane. If you want me to, I won’t bring you to him.”

“What? But…your father promised.”

“I don’t care. It’s barbaric that omega trading is still a thing. You are right, you are people not cattle.”

“If he finds out that you refuse, he will disown you.”

“I have a plan for that.”

“Urquard will kill you.”

“That’s why I have a plan.”

“What plan?”

“It’s gonna sound insane.”

“Just tell me please. I don’t wanna be sold.”

“The only way I can free you of this pact is if you get marked by another alpha. You’re unclaimed right now, but if you were to be marked by an alpha other than Urquard’s son, then the pact would be invalid.”

“What do you mean with marked?”

He hesitates.

“Tell me.”

“An alpha would have to put his dick into you.”

“So assault? I would have to be assaulted?”

“Not if you wanted it.”

“Huh?”

“Not if it’s with someone you trust. Someone who’s gonna be careful and gentle and who’s gonna make it nice for you.”

“And who should that be? Last time I checked, I’m not really friends with many…”

Your eyes meet Jungkook’s. He seems shy all of a sudden.

“Oh.”

You gasp for air.

“Oh.”

“I know it’s crazy. I thought of other ways. I’ve been plotting ever since we left town. That’s why I volunteered. To give us time, to give me time to think of something. I thought of lots of stuff, but they all ended in hypothetical death or enslavement of our pack. The only peaceful option was this.”

“You volunteered to bring me?”

He nods his head, “anyone else would have been too scared of or too loyal to my dad. I know you’re scared, but I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“And you thought of this?”

“It’s the only way. We kill Urquard and his sons? Their pack comes after us. We run away? Their pack is gonna punish our pack. We kill everyone? Impossible we’d die and destine our pack to agony. It’s only death and pain u-unless you get marked by an alpha.”

“But I would have to be with you afterwards.”

“Only if you want to. We can pretend, make everyone think that it’s real. You wouldn’t have to be with me ever again.”

“Oh my god, this is insane.”

“I know. I’m sorry. The choice is yours. I promise.”

You study his face. You are still trapped under him, sharing heat. Skin against skin. arm against chest and cock against hip. He is semi hard by now, smearing slick on your skin. The fact that he is affected by this - by you - doesn’t make it easier to stay calm. You are glad for his leg over yours because it forces your legs to be closed and therefore hide the masses of slick having accumulated by now. His hair is still damp, hanging into his face messily. His fingers feel so strong and protective around your wrists. You swear that each time he breathes out and you inhale it, you feel high. You are so attracted to him right now.

Truth be told, you always thought that he was handsome beyond comparison. He has a mesmerizing aura and a captivating smile. His physique is your dream physique and his face often caught your attention in a crowd. You were utterly and insanely attracted to him which made your hatred for him grow deeper. He betrayed you, but he is still haunting your thoughts. It was unbearable until right now.

“I’m scared. I never did it with an alpha before”, you confess, suddenly feeling so vulnerable.

And Jungkook takes that vulnerability, cradling it in his safe palm just as he cradles your cheek the same way. His eyes softened, his voice did too.

“Don’t be scared. I’ll be gentle. I promise”, he almost whispers the words, tracing your brow and temple between cradling your cheek.

“I don’t know you like that.”

“Neither do I you. It’s gonna be a one time thing.”

“I’m scared. I’ve been scared ever since all of this started.”

“Don’t be. I’m here. I won’t let them touch you.”

“But you’ll touch me?” you ask in a whisper, lifting the inner corners of your brows.

Jungkook has a hard time staying calm when you look at him with such puppy eyes.

“If you let me, I will.”

You exhale shakily, squirming under him.

“I’m scared.”

He lets go of your wrists to cradle your other cheek. You lean into the touch, barely wanting to keep your eyes open. Your arms stay in their submissive position naturally.

“Just the tip. That’s all it takes. Just the tip for a few seconds so you take on my scent and then it’ll be over”, he says.

“Just the tip?”

“Yes, just the tip. Nothing more. I promise.”

You are going to do something which you thought never to do. But if it saves your life, you would do anything. Even something as crazy as allow Jungkook to stick his tip into you.

“Okay. Just the tip.”

Jungkook exhales shakily, moving closer for a kiss like it was instinct before he stops himself. You shudder, craving nothing more than what he denies both of you.

“We shouldn’t be doing this”, he breathes.

“What?”

“Kiss.” He lets the word dance over your lips, running his thumb under your lips as his eyes stare. “We shouldn’t.”

“No, we shouldn’t”, you whimper, chasing him.

Moments of craving and yearning where both of you try so hard to kiss the other. But you shouldn’t. Just the tip, nothing more.

“Roll to your side, please”, Jungkook breaks the electric silence, guiding you with his hand on your shoulder until your back faces his chest.

You can see the fire and the rest of the shed like this, but not Jungkook.

“Why like this?”

“If I look at your face, I’ll stick it in completely. I can’t do this to you.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook closes the distance, connecting his hand with your hip. He guides it up your body, travelling along your waist and arm. His touch leaves goosebumps where it goes. His palm is slightly calloused from fighting but incredibly tender in how it touches you. You feel yourself breathe heavier and heavier the longer he touches you.

He reaches your shoulder, closing the last of the distance by lowering his lips to your back.

“Ah”, you let out quietly, tensing up. Your eyes are widened comically big, staring into the bright flames. He is kissing your naked skin. What the fuck.

Jungkook’s eyes are closed in contrast. His head is foggy, but he tries to fight these feelings. You smell so good that it is very difficult to do so.

His hand is still on your shoulder at first but moves to your waist when he guides his kisses to said shoulder.

“Oh god”, you whisper, sighing afterwards.

Jungkook feels droopy from the sound, digging his fingers into the softness of your side. He shouldn’t be doing this. Just the tip. That’s what he said. And yet here he is, kissing your soft skin as if it was his right to do so. He shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop. He traces and holds your side and stomach, telling himself that he only does it to relax you. He kisses every inch of your exposed back and shoulder, telling himself that he only does it to calm you down. When in truth he does all of this because he wants to make it nice for you. And maybe he wants to be a source of tenderness after what you had to go through.

Lies. These are still lies. He fucking does this because he wants to. He fucking does it because he wants to know how it is to touch you. Taehyung talked when you and he were high school sweethearts. Oh, Taehyung talked and Jungkook had to listen and secretly seethe with jealousy. It should be him, he thought back then, he would know how to treat you right.

You had no idea of these thoughts. You still haven’t as you lie here next to the warm fire while Jungkook touches you oh so carefully. You don’t know if you’re allowed to close your eyes. Just the tip, you agreed on. Can you close your eyes for that?

But it feels so good. His lips are soft, while his piercings are hard in contrast. His touch is currently dancing up the middle of your torso slowly. You fight the shivers wanting to run through you.

You lose the fight a moment later when he pulls you against his strong chest and kisses your neck.

You whimper, trembling like crazy. You arch into him, craning your neck to give him more of it. Your heart skips beats under his lips. Jungkook grips the blanket to stop his hand from cradling your tits.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this”, he presses out under his breath, mouthing at your neck hungrily. “I shouldn’t….do…this.”

He drags his lips to your jawline and sucks. Your eyes close.

You mewl, rolling your hips back into him. His cock slides between your legs, rubbing between your puffy folds. He trembles in shock, gripping your hip to stop your wiggles.

“Don’t do this. Don’t act like this when it is supposed to mean nothing.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.”

“Mhhm I know. You can’t, but I can. I won’t do it again, I’m sorry.”

You swallow your begs, not wanting to appear weak or desperate. It is so difficult not to beg when you have his cock between your legs. Hugged by your folds and exchanging slick. He feels hot and his veins are pulsing desperately. You have never before felt so stupidly horny than you do right now. Quite frankly, he might be forcing you to go into impromptu heat if he keeps being like this.

“Just the tip, yeah? Just the tip”, he whispers as he puts his arm under your head so you have something comfortable to rest on. You practically melt into him, biting back tears. You are being held and it feels so good. So safe and warm.

He kisses your neck and cheek, whispering his words.

“Are you comfortable? Are you ready?”

“Yeah”, you sigh, pushing your hips back.

Jungkook slides his other hand between your bodies, using it to align his cock with your dripping entrance. Just the tip, he reminds himself, nothing more. Don’t be greedy, keep calm. This doesn’t mean anything.

“Last chance”, he says, wanting to stall time so he can calm down.

“I trust you.”

Jungkook bites back his moan, having to take a deep breath before he can act. You are messing him up without knowing. With a racing pulse, he applies pressure on your puffy cunt and slips inside.

You squeak, shaking against your will. You convulse around him, gasping repeatedly. He went in so easily, despite his size.

Jungkook growls, “fuck, holy fuck”, he gets out and bruises your hip as he grips it for support. It takes everything inside him not to push it all the way in. Jungkook genuinely has a hard time not to moan. You are so wet.

Judging from your tremors and the way you fight for air, it is just as difficult for you.

“Only a few more second”, he forces his voice to sound as normal as possible. He wants to fuck you, but knows that he shouldn’t.

“Mh-hm”, you squeak out, nodding your head. You want him to fuck you.

Jungkook closes his hand to a fist, growing his claws to dig them into his own palm. The pain keeps him from acting up. He wouldn’t be able to handle it otherwise.

Jungkook always hoped that he would marry you one day. There it is. It’s out there. Jungkook had feelings for you for decades. In his dreams, you marry him and he can spend the rest of his days spoiling you rotten. He would be your protector against any danger, your best friend to laugh with, your remedy for your heats and the lover you can be yourself with.

Being with you like this is everything he ever wished for. You are so soft and warm around him, your slick is so wet. He knows that, deeper inside, it would be so much more. You'd be so warm, so soft. Jungkook gulps down his desire for more, otherwise he would do things he would regret.

“I think it should be good”, he presses out. He can’t do it anymore. One more second and he would push in all the way. He can’t do this to you. You trust him and he can’t abuse this trust.

“Really?”

You turn your head, looking up at him in droopy devotion. Jungkook whimpers, instantly cradling your cheek. He furrows his brows, throbbing inside you. He fights the urge to kiss you, to rest his forehead against yours, to bury himself deep inside you.

“Please don’t look at me.”

“Jungkook.”

His name hasn’t rolled off your tongue ever since he left you at the playground. It almost brings tears to his eyes, forcing his arm around you tighter.

“I can’t do this”, he drops his forehead against yours “I think I remembered that I need to put in all of it. It’s not gonna work otherwise.”

He is lying, because he can’t accept the truth yet. That he is selfish and totally addicted to you.

“Please do.”

“No. No we shouldn’t be doing this”, he fights it still, shaking his head which makes his nose rub against yours.

“Please”, your words tickle his lips, “save me. Whatever it takes, save me.”

“Urgh”, he growls through gritted teeth.

“Please.”

Jungkook lifts his head. He wants to look into your eyes as he does it. He wants to see the utter bliss in your eyes as he turns your relationship status from ex childhood best friends to two adults reunited.

He rolls his hips, feeding your warmth his length inch by inch. Your brows furrow and lift, your lids flutter, your mouth falls open.

“A-ah”, you squeak out.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m all here”, he whispers. He closes his arm around you, cradling you in a gentle headlock.

You close your fingers around his lower arm, spilling tears from your eyes.

“Does it hurt?”

You shake your head.

“But?”

“So…filled out. So big.”

“I know. I’m big, but you’re taking me so well.”

You whimper. Jungkook feels so insanely protective over you right now.

“Yes, you are. Taking me so well”, he insists, brushing the back of his hand down your cheek.

Jungkook continues until he bottoms out. He shudders, choking down a whimper. You feel so good. He never ever felt like this before. It feels like coming home which is insane because he was never with you like this.

“___”, your name comes out of him against his will.

“Jungkook”, you answer him, clenching around him.

“Stay still, please.”

“Okay”, you whimper, looking at his lips.

The pull is magnetic. Jungkook draws closer with parted lips, you meet him with parted lips. Once you kiss, it will be over for you and him. There will be no coming back from this.

“No”, he croaks, putting his hand over your mouth. The headlock tightens like this, giving you such a sense of being protected that your walls clench against your will.

“We shouldn’t kiss. Never”, he rasps weakly, mouthing at his own hand right where your lips lie beneath. You close your eyes, trying to move your lips under his hand. It is starting to feel cruel to be denied his kiss. Especially when memories of your past come back to you.

You remember that it was a group of eight kids and you were doing “dares” to see who is the coolest. Taehyung was dared to prank call his mom and he actually did. He pretended to be a grown up insurance clerk and once he hung up, you really thought that he managed to prank his mom (he didn’t hide his phone number and had a childlike voice). Jimin, another friend, was dared to climb a tree. Which he did and he was sooo cool for it. They were silly, childish dares who did no harm but made you feel so cool. Then it came to you and you were dared to kiss Jungkook. Which you did. In a childlike, innocent way but which made you and him feel so grown up for a moment.

The memory is haunting you right now, making you want to redo it in a grown up, mature way. You open your eyes, meeting Jungkook’s gaze. Judging from the foggy desperation in them, he is haunted by the same memory.

“Please get out of my head”, he gets out.

You whimper his name behind his hand. Jungkook furrows his brows, grinding his teeth.

“No please. Stop it”, he croaks, squeezing his eyes shut.

You want to fight it as well, of course you do. You swore to hate him forever and now you want nothing else than his kiss. You want to fight it, but your hands move against your will. They rest themselves over Jungkook’s hand and try to dig between your face and his palm.

He growls, huffing out air. The only thing keeping your hips from joining the impossible fight is his hand on it. Shit, now he is concentrating on down below. Your puffy walls around him, so soft and warm. Being inside you, Jungkook swears he will never be cold again. Or maybe he will be, maybe he will never find warmth again once this stops, once he has to slip out and pretend that it meant nothing.

What will happen afterwards? He is so needy and he knows that you are too. What will happen? Are you going to lie next to each other, wet and needy and force your bodies to calm down? Or maybe he will need to excuse himself to outside, fuck his own fist as the loud thunder masks his desperate moans while inside the shed you most definitely would touch yourself as well?

Jungkook was so lost in his haunted thoughts that he realises too late that you managed to tug his hand away. Your lips brush his’.

Jungkook moans from the bottom of his heart, going in for more at first. He even rolls his hips into you. Like instinct. Like it is meant to happen.

“No”, he pushes you away, slips out, breaks the moment. “We shouldn’t be doing this. Not that far.”

You sob, shrinking into yourself.

“Please”, you whimper your words, staring at him with desperate, sad eyes. You lift your hips, begging him silently.

“I won’t be able to stop if I do it again. I can’t do this to you.”

“Please”, you beg.

“Do you even know what an alpha does when he fucks? I won’t be able to stop until I bred you. I-I’ll knot you and, and you won’t be able to get me out until I’m soft again.”

“I know.”

“This could take hours. You will feel out of control and vulnerable.”

“You said that you will protect me. That I-I’m safe with you.”

“___”, he chokes out and crawls to you. He picks you up in his strong arms, holding you against his chest. His heart is racing like crazy against your back. “Stop me. I beg you. I can’t pretend any longer that this means nothing to me. You have to stop this.”

You reach up and twist his hair, pulling him down to you.

“We shouldn’t-”

You silence him with a kiss.

Jungkook trembles, resting his weight against you as the kiss renders his body useless for a moment. You are kissing him. You stopped this stupid farce for you and him. You sealed your fates. Jungkook knows that it won’t be the same after tonight. He will never fucking give you up.

He breaks the kiss, but stay close.

“You shouldn’t have done this.”

“Please. More.”

“Are you even hearing me?” he hisses.

“Yes. Please, more.”

“Fuck, we really shouldn’t, but maybe I…I have to move it a few times? To really mark you?”

“Yes, sounds good, mark me please. I don’t wanna be sold.”

“I-I’ll do it just for that. To make sure.”

“Yes. Okay”, you sigh and melt into him, lifting your leg.

Jungkook slides his hand under it instantly.

“Let me do it. Relax.”

You let your muscles relax, allowing him to carry your leg’s weight. He does it so easily, tracing your hairline with his fingertips as he looks down at you. He moves his hips so his cock would slip between your folds, working you up to what was coming by grinding back and forth. He really drags out the movements, sending trembles through your legs each time his thick tip rubs your swollen clit.

He exhales shakily, whispering his thoughts.

“You’re so wet. I have never felt slick so warm and, and wet before.”

You look up at him with shy, nervous puppy eyes, making him want to protect you forever.

“Is it bad?”

“No, fuck no”, he puts his arm around your chest, pulling you up to him until he can rest his forehead against yours. “It’s perfect, baby.”

“Baby?”

“I…” he drops you, hips stilling in shock. He doesn’t know what to say. Anything he could say feels like too little of an apology.

You however increase the lethalness of your puppy eyes, reaching down to try and move his hips again.

“Please. More.”

“We’re only doing this to save you, right?” He asks, picking up a rhythm again. It is the same as before but way more arousing because he purposefully makes sure that his tip slips into you every now and then. He starts off with just a little poke, increasing the inches more and more. But it stays just the tip, for now, don’t be mistaken. If he slips inside it should happen accidentally. He likes to tell himself if it happens like this, it will mean that it wasn’t his fault.

“Yes, only to save me” you lull your words, getting droopier and droopier. Each time he has his tip inside you, it feels so good. Before he slips out and you feel sad, until of course he drags his cock over your clit instead.

You can’t do this for long anymore and Jungkook seems to share your feelings. The tip he buries in you starts to go way past your entrance and it seems to stay longer inside. His golden eyes never break contact, his fingers rub your arm as he holds you so close.

He slips into you again. So deep.

“Mhhhhm” he lets out in a rumble, furrowing his brows.

You whimper, lifting your brows.

Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. He won’t be able to escape like this.

Deeper.

He bottoms out.

You moan, eyelids fluttering and lips chasing his kiss.

He shakes his head, talking as he falls into the kiss.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

You kiss and Jungkook’s cock doesn’t leave you again. It stays buried deep inside you, reshaping your walls as his hips move. Slowly for now, daring not to be too rough with you. Because being rough makes it real. Maybe if he keeps his movements tiny enough, it will still count as being nothing of importance.

Because that’s what this is, right? Something that doesn’t mean anything, something that won’t change who you and he are. This is what those needy, hungry tongue kisses mean, this is what the desperate touches mean, this is what the exchanging of warm slick means. Nothing. Because if those things meant something, it would force Jungkook to admit that he is doing This for himself. Of course he does it to save you, but if it meant something, he would have to admit that he is also doing this for himself.

But it doesn’t mean anything, right? Right?

You break the kiss for air, looking up at him submissively and droopy.

“It feels so good”, you whisper.

“Close your eyes, please.”

You obey and Jungkook has to come to the realisation that it makes no difference. This fucking means something. Holy fuck, he is done for.

“Maybe I have to make you cum?”

“What?” you ask, eyes still closed.

“I think I need to make you cum once. Then you’ll be marked.”

“Please do. I trust you.”

Trust. He thought that he would never earn it again and yet here he is. With your weakened, trembling body in his hold as you trust him to take good care of you.

“Mhhm shit”, he presses out, biting down on his own tongue to calm himself. Be tender with her, he thinks, you swore to be a gentle alpha so fucking get it together.

He moves you into another position, draping your leg over his hip so you wouldn’t have to use your muscles. You are so open and spread like this, allowing his big cock entrance. He slides his hand to your clit and takes it between his thumb and middle finger to massage it.

“A-ha”, you let out, arching your back and lifting your hips.

“Ssssh, relax. I’m here.”

“Please, deeper.”

Jungkook buries his cock deep inside you and stays there, circling his hips. He is so big and long that he stimulates both your g-spot and your cervix. He is so gentle that it doesn’t hurt. It just feels so good that your fangs grow against your will and you leak masses of new slick.

“Like this? Am I making it nice for you?”

“So nice”, you mewl, nodding your head vigorously.

Jungkook is gazing at you as it happens. He watches every change of expression on your face, fighting the urge to call you beautiful. Because that’s what you are. Beautiful. You would deserve to know but he is scared of the consequences. It would mean the fluttering of his heart is real.

“Is so nice”, you sigh, writhing happily. It breaks him.

“You’re beautiful”, he says, moaning softly when you tighten and arch your back. So you liked it. His cock throbs inside you, leaking into you needily. “Yeah that’s right, you’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful. Taking me so well, feeling so good on my cock.”

“Ah, aaaah”, your moans are so loud, your pussy so fucking wet and your clit so swollen.

Jungkook fucks you gently, massaging your spot of pleasure with his long, skilled fingers. He can feel your heartbeat in your back, as much as he can feel you rub against his nipples.

The blanket over your bodies is so hot, making you and him sweat wherever you are touching. He can’t deny it anymore that this is real, that this means something. This means fucking everything to him.

“You’re such a good omega, taking me so well.”

“You’re making me cum”, you croak, grasping his arm for support, “please, can I cum?”

“Yes, baby. You can. Cum for me.”

“Jungkook”, you gasp, ripping your eyes open to stare in shock as his gentle touches bring you over the edge.

Your eyes flicker golden, you moan silently with an open mouth.

“That’s it, cum for your alpha. Let me mark you, that’s it.”

He has a hard time saying these words to you. His thoughts are running wild. This is the face you make when you have an orgasm. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined this to be a face he gets to see. And it’s so beautiful that he treads the moment your high stops and he has to pull out. He doesn’t want to pull out. He needs more of you. He needs you like fucking crazy.

“More please”, and then your beg releases him. You are down from your high, yet still so hungry for more. You feel so fulfilled with him that you don’t want this to stop.

“What?” he croaks.

“More please, more.”

“If I do this, I won’t stop until I cum too.”

“I know.”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I have to cum inside you to mark you?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

The pretend continues. The fucking charades that this is only to save you from your fate, that you and he aren’t doing this because it feels so good to both of you.

“Please Jungkook, fuck me properly.”

“Are you sure?” he almost squeaks the words because he has such a hard time controlling his urges.

“Yes. Please.”

“Holy fuck. ___ urgh.”

Your needy beg does the rest. His animalistic instincts take over.

Jungkook growls, grabbing you roughly to flip you onto your stomach and therefore pin you down. He straddles you from behind. His right hand slips to the back of your head, his left hand has a possessive grip on your hip. His legs cage in your legs, keeping them squeezed together as he drills his thick cock into your pussy. You are so tight like this, jerking him off in such a maddening way.

You scream up as you didn’t expect him to take on such a punishing pace instantly, but you aren’t complaining. It feels so good to take him. He fucks you so well. His cock is so filling, making you feel whole.

“I’m not holding back now. For you, just for you. Is this good for you? Do you like this?”, he growls through gritted fangs, shifting his eyes between your face and his cock.

“Yeaa”, you sob, clawing at the ground helplessly. You were aware that Jungkook has been an adult for years, but this is still changing how you see him. Whenever you thought of him, you saw that twelve year old boy calling you immature for playing. That boy is gone as if he never existed. Jungkook is a fucking adult and he is rewriting the image in your mind one heavy stroke at a time.

“You should have never seen me like this. Fuck, this shouldn’t happen”, Jungkook spits, high on your body. He is embarrassed by his actions, but can’t stop them. “But I can’t stop. Holy fuck, I need you so fucking bad.” He needs to fuck you. You are so small and weak right now, so goddamn vulnerable. Once so unclaimed until he took you.

You are his.

Jungkook growls, pinning you harder into the ground.

You are his.

You reach behind yourself because his hand on your head hurts. He grabs your wrist instantly, using it to pin your arm against your back. You wail up, kicking the ground as best as possible as you writhe in your imprisonment.

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t see me like this. Not you. I’m sorry.”

He apologises, knowing that he won’t be able to stop until you are claimed. The thought makes him crazy. He is claiming you. The girl who was his first kiss, his best friend who always came to him when she needed help, the woman who counts on him to protect her from her fate and the wife he always hoped to have one day. And he is claiming her. He is marking her, making you his for anyone to smell.

Jungkook drills you harder. He pulls out all the way to his tip just to thrust into you sloppily. He does it over and over again, reminding your dripping pussy of his size with each possessive thrust.

And you take it with grateful sobs, existing only for him right now. You would never recover if he stopped right now. You need him to finish what he started even if it ruins you in the process.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this, fuck, this shouldn’t happen”, Jungkook gets out, gawking at where he buries himself in you.

Your slick is slowly taking on a milky colour from the intense friction. It sticks to his veiny shaft and his dark pubes, smearing all over your ass and his thighs as well.

If this shouldn’t happen, why does it feel so good? If this shouldn’t happen, why does it look so hot? If this shouldn’t happen, why does he not want to stop?

Jungkook scrunches his face in anger. He lets go of your arm so he can grip your hips with both hands. He pulls them up until you are kneeling. Your face is still buried in the ground, your back is arched.

You shake and convulse instantly, sobbing in embarrassment because the open position of your legs forces your slick to run out of you.

“Holy fuck”, he gets out, staring at it with blown out pupils, “holy fuck, ___.”

“I’m sorry, please don’t judge me”, you beg, trying so hard to keep it inside with clenches around his cock.

“Never. Holy fuck, I could never.”

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. Relax, baby. Don’t fight it”, he says, knowing that you and he shouldn’t be doing this.

You obey instinctively. You relax around him, releasing the slick you so desperately wanted to hide from him. It begins squirting out of you messily and audibly, marking him yours.

“Yes”, he growls and begins pulling your hips onto his cock possessively, thrusting into you at the same time. He does it with one hand because the other he slips between your legs to pinch your clit. Gently of course, keeping her between two fingers to massage her in circular motions.

“Let me help you.”

You wail and shake, releasing more and more of your pretty slick. It runs down your thighs, covers his legs, smears all over your ass and his stomach.

“Relax, that’s it. My pretty omega shouldn’t keep it inside. It’s not good for you.”

“Jungkook, I can’t do this”, you sob.

“I know. We can’t do this, we never should have.”

“No”, you wail, “no. I have to cum again.”

“Whenever you want to. Your alpha’s right here, baby.”

“Jungkook!” you scream, breaking apart as if you never orgasmed before. It feels so good.

“Holy fuck baby, ah!” Jungkook yelps, hips stuttering in shock, “you feel so good, what the fuck ah! Ah! I can’t control myself. Baby!”

Jungkook growls and lays himself over you. He holds you up with one hand around you, biting down on your shoulder as his body breaks. You sob from the pain of the bite, loving every second of it.

And then it hits you.

His seed.

His thick, hot seed.

It shoots out of him with such strength that you feel punched in the gut. The effect is instant. You lose control over yourself. Quite literally, you lose control. You can still talk, using it to scream his name as you orgasm in a way you have never experienced before.

The first one was intense but familiar. This right now? You didn’t even know that your body could feel this way. It is truly, seriously, religious. It is as if you finally found your purpose in life. And in a sense you did. You found your alpha. He finally claimed you properly. You are his’. You aren’t unclaimed anymore. Nobody ever educated on this, so you have no idea that these religious, soul fulfilling feelings mean that you changed forever, but you don’t mind right now. You are just riding on these feelings, screaming his name and milking him dry.

Jungkook whimpers. He truly, honestly whimpers from the bottom of his heart, collapsing on top of you. He knocks you into the ground like that, burying you under his weight but he couldn’t stop it from happening.

He never experienced this feeling either. He had sex with people, but it never felt like This before. He orgasmed in them but it never felt like this. It feels as if his seed finally has purpose. That’s how it feels. Like his efforts and all the rutting he is doing has fucking purpose.

And then it happens. Something that he was only told could happen to him, finally happens to him. His knot swells. He actually fucking grows a knot and has to writhe on top of you, burying his nose deep in your hair as he sobs your name.

You sob as well, insides suddenly feeling like bursting. His knot is so big and thick that it should feel like an intruder but it doesn’t. It feels like the best drug ever. You didn’t even know that you could stretch this far. The amount of stimulation it gives you as it rubs against your walls is otherworldly, making you chase one orgasm after the other.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me. Ah! ___!” Jungkook yelps, having to orgasm again as your tight walls stimulate his knot. The amount of sensitivity he feels on it is insane.

His hands slide together with yours, holding them tightly as he pins them into the ground. His tears fall into your hair, your own tears soak the blanket.

“I can’t stop”, you get out, shaking in fear, “I can’t stop cumming!”

“Me neither.”

“I’m scared. I’m so scared”, you sob, riding on the unfamiliar, scary sensations.

“Don’t be scared, I’m here. I’m here”, he talks you through it, shaking beyond saving.

You aren’t even moving much. There are no thrusts, no sloppy wiggles. Just and you and him, actually stuck together because of his knot while he pumps one cumshot after the other into you. There is no movement and yet it feels better than the most passionate rutting session you each had. No movement and yet you are fulfilled beyond comparison. Is this how it feels to find your mate? Is this what it is?

Did “we shouldn’t be doing this” turn into the finding of your other half? Was “we shouldn’t be doing this” fate’s way of protecting you from what will happen once you gave in? Or was there ever a “we shouldn’t be doing this” strong enough that could have prevented you from doing this?

Whatever it might be, it is too late to think about the what ifs now. The reality is that you and he can’t stop climaxing, lost in the most addicting and intense pleasure you and he ever found yourselves in. It is never ending. When he climaxes, you have to too which sets him off again, triggering your need to as well. It is a vicious, never ending, orgasmic cycle.

“This feels so good”, he croaks out, writhing on top of you, “does it feel-”

“Yes! Yes! Oh god please Kook not again. Kook!”

“Kook”, Jungkook repeats the nickname in a whimper, curling his toes as another orgasm hits him as well. He never thought to hear this name from you again. He can’t handle it any other way than filling you with more of him.

There is so much of him inside you by now, having no way to escape because of his knot that your body reacts in the only way it knows how to survive. It opens up for his seed to go deeper. It trickles into the deepest parts of your sex organs, warming you from the inside out. It is like he is alive inside you, feeding you with the strongest drug you ever took. You think that you black out for a moment. You are still aware of what is happening to you, but it is hidden behind a thick layer of blurriness.

“Eh”, you let out, falling into the darkness gladly. It feels so good to do. There is something because you are aware of your orgasm, but there is also nothing. It is as if you are standing next to your body, watching it shake and tremble as he makes a home inside you.

And then there is nothing. Truly nothing. No more orgasmic pleasure, no more watching yourself. Just darkness.

“___? Hey, ___? Holy fuck, what’s wrong with you? ___, open your eyes please”, Jungkook’s distraught voice comes closer and closer, his hand on your face becomes clearer and clearer, “please ___, open your eyes, please. Oh god, what have I done? I should never have done this. I- Oh god ___ please, I’m sorry. Wake up, please.”

He shakes your head gently. It brings you back to reality. Your body regains the ability to feel.

“Jungkook”, you whimper, opening your eyes. You writhe instantly, throbbing around his knot happily.

“___ hey. Holy fuck, thank god. Hey”, he says, dropping his forehead against your temple and kissing the side of your face desperately, “I’m so glad that you’re back. I thought that I killed you.”

“No, just made me black out.”

“Why? Does it hurt? Are you in lots of pain?”

“No, just haven’t felt so good before. Ever. Kook, I”, you suddenly have to whimper your words, “I feel your cum inside my uterus. It’s so warm and alive and….right.”

“It is?” He whimpers as well, feeling weakened in emotion.

You nod your head. Jungkook sobs quietly, using the hold he has on your hand to guide your arm under your body and against your chest. Like this, he rolls your bodies to their sides, instantly cradling you against his chest while his trembling lips kiss any part of you that he can reach.

Your face, your neck, your shoulder, your arm, your back and the bite mark he left, your face again. Over and over he kisses each inch of you, whispering your name every now and then as if he is trying to make sure that he remembers who made him feel like this. As if he is trying to make his brain memorise who it was who made him experience his first knot.

He is still swollen, keeping everything inside you safely. It is still so intense, but suddenly it feels more emotionally intense than physically. Enough time must have passed for the fire to reduce the logs by lot. And all of a sudden you and he don’t feel the uncontrollable need to orgasm anymore. You still want to be close, moving your hips in emotionally needy wiggles in hopes of keeping his knot alive for as long as possible, but it is not to chase another orgasm. You want this to last because it feels so safe.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t want this to end”, Jungkook confesses, holding you protectively.

“Me neither. I feel so safe like this.”

“Holy fuck, ___. What did we do?” he presses out, kissing your cheek over and over again.

“I don’t know.”

“I never knotted before. I never felt like this. Holy fuck, ___.”

“What is gonna happen to us now?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t let you go again. Ever. I don’t wanna fucking share you. Never. I’m trying so hard not to tell you that you’re mine ‘cause I promised you that this would never happen again.”

“Please don’t.”

“What?”

You turn your head, leaning deeper into his embrace. Like this, you feel his racing heart against your shoulder and you are entirely protected in his arms. His knotted cock throbs inside you as your eyes meet. The same playful, gentle boy of the past looks back at you, except that his once boyish features are mature and aged up. A gentle, adoring man stares back at you and you can’t seem to find your way out of his galaxy eyes.

“Please don’t promise me that this won’t happen again.” You cradle his cheek. “Don’t hold back on telling me that I’m yours.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re high from my cum, these aren’t your real feelings.”

“Why shouldn’t they be?”

“___, we-”

You put your thumb on his lips.

“We shouldn’t have done this, I know. You kept telling me as we kept doing this.”

Jungkook gives up in a sigh, having to chuckle afterwards. You giggle, cupping his cheek again.

“Just the tip. That’s what we agreed on. Just the tip”, he says.

You clench around his knot, touching your bloated stomach. You instantly guide his hand to it, wanting him to feel what he did to you. He purrs deeply, biting down on his lower lip. You grin goofily.

“Just the tip indeed.”

He laughs softly. You snicker and stub his nose with your own.

“This is the messiest and deepest tip I have ever given”, he jokes, making you laugh.

“Oh god, this was funny.”

“Mhm, I’m pretty funny”, he says and nuzzles his nose into your neck to tickle you gently.

You squeak and giggle, feeling happy beyond comparison. Jungkook ends his loving attack with kisses to your ear.

You sigh, melting into the affection. You and he lace fingers, using the position to melt closer.

Your droopy eyes stare into the flames while Jungkook relaxes you with soft kisses all over your neck, shoulder and back.

The thunderstorm stopped outside. It is already a little brighter. Fuck, so you were really trapped in this orgasmic state for a few hours. It felt as if so little time passed as it was happening.

“What is gonna happen now?” you whisper.

“Now? We’re gonna cuddle and I’ll be kissing you until you’re asleep.”

“I mean after that. Do we have to show Urquard that I’m claimed?”

“I guess. I haven’t thought that far into the future yet. But yes, he will probably want proof that you’re marked.”

“I’m scared. Do I have to get naked in front of him? And his pack? Will he put something in me to get a scent?”

“He can try if he wants to die.” Jungkook pulls you closer possessively. “You’re under my protection now. Okay? You won’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with and I’ll hunt down anyone who dares to overstep your boundaries. Even Urquard and his pack.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I promise you.”

You close your eyes, spilling tears.

“Thank you.”

You never thought it possible to have your dreams fulfilled by Jungkook and yet here you are. You are being held and comforted by Jungkook and it feels like home.

“Don’t thank me. You’re mine. My darling ___ to keep safe. You have my body to protect you and my heart to find a home in.”

There is deep rooted honesty in his words, but you are suddenly too sleepy to ask him what he meant by them. There will still be another time. This wasn’t just a one time thing after all.

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colormepurplex2 · 10 months ago

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Now I'm Yours | JJK

🤍Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader 🤍A/B/O, Established Relationship/Mates | angst, smut, fluff 🤍WC: 14,064 🤍Rating: MA 🤍Summary: Jungkook is terrible at feelings. He’s possessive, reckless, and most definitely an Alphahole; you were once his sworn enemy for a reason. But, after he claimed you as his mate during your designation celebration, how do you even begin to navigate the dark waters of such a precarious relationship? Especially when there is darkness creeping over the horizon, threatening to blanket your world in permanent shadow. ⚠️ Vulgar language, semi-hate sex, fingering, knotting, creampie, discussion of violent acts, drinking, fighting/physical altercation, alpha challenge, knife violence/attack, blood, injury, bond sex, dick licking/oral, slick eating, biting/marking, blood/wound licking, surprise pregnancy Each chapter will have specific warnings listed.

Read Make You Mine, the first installment of the series, here!

Chapter 1. Distance Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

Chapter 2. Feel It In Your Soul

This story is complete.

A/N: This story is part of the "New Year, New Me Love" @bangtanwritershq gift exchange, written for the wonderful @hisunshiine! And as always, a special thank you to @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for being A+ betas!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

#bts #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts angst #bts smut #bts non idol au #bts abo #jungkook abo #alpha jungkook #omega reader #abo smut #bts knotting #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts enemies to lovers #alpha jungkook x omega reader #jungkook smut #bangtanwhq #btscreaturescoven

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untaemedqueen · 2 years ago

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Finding My Pack

Alpha!OT7 x Omega!Reader

Genre: Fated Mates, Omegaverse, Smut, Angst, Fluff

Series Warnings: Omega Abuse (Not By OT7), Fated Mates/Soulmates, Scent Sympathy, Sunshine!FMC, Knotting, Smut, MMMMMMMF, MMMF, MMF, MF, Breeding Kink, Cursing, Dom!OT7, Sub!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Omega Abuse

A/N: This will be the only chapter posted to Tumblr. All future chapters can be found on Patreon~! See you there!

Chapter 1.

"You do not lock the goddamn doors in this fucking house."

The sentence was thick with a growl, one that if I was born correctly wouldn't have mattered in the slightest. Just hearing the sharp hit of his words, my insides clenched and coiled, dying to listen and make sure that he wouldn't be mad at me again.

"Sorry," I whispered softly, looking down at my bare toes that curled awkwardly under my gaze.

"You need to put on your scent blocker and try a little bit harder to fit in here. You're making all your brothers crazy with that fucking smell."

Swallowing thickly, I grabbed the bottle from him with a nod.

If my scent made my brothers crazy, they made me out of my fucking mind with sickness. Every one of them smells like acidic garbage with a hint of overpowering sweetness, y'know, like the way too fake soaps or body lotions you find in those hoity toity stores.

"You're a fucking Pangborn. Please act like it," my father grumbled, wrinkling his nose at the smell of my nervousness. "Jesus Christ. I can't believe your mother made you."

His words were a low blow but nothing I wasn't used to hearing now. Nothing any of the pack said got to me as bad as it used it.

Liar.

Okay, a lot of it hurt but I tried not to think of it all the time. It was my fault, really. I wasn't born right.

To be a Pangborn in Cypress City, you have to be an alpha. The Pangborns breed for one purpose and one purpose only, to give the city more alphas then they know what to do with.

Every Pangborn is expected to be a boy, to be an alpha and to take on the numerous betas that are practically beating down the door for them to be let in. So when I was born, disappointment was ripe in the air. It still is.

A small female omega with no qualities and no purpose.

I'm nothing.

Oh that's fun, what a great thought to have. Even if it hurts, it's true.

Since I was born I've been kept hidden like a secret. There's no fairytale here, there's no pack of alpha princes waiting at the bottom of my incredibly sterile, sad tower. There's no one that cares. Well, maybe Brady and MacKenzie but they pretend I don't exist half the time.

Looking down at the bottle of scent blocker, a sob threatened to well up in my throat.

"Weak omega bullshit." That's what my father would say.

It's so fucking annoying to be different. It's so painful. But the hope that one day I'd be accepted never ceased to creep into my thoughts.

So I sprayed the spray on even though it makes me feel sick.

I could smell him before my door opened. His alpha pheromones were bleeding throughout the long hallway that lead to my room.

He smelled of garbage, lemon juice and the slightest hint of boysenberry. Although the boysenberry is not his own smell. It's a betas.

"Oy!" MacKenzie booms, shoving open the door.

His bright red hair and forest green eyes searched the mostly barren room until he found me in the corner.

"He cornered you again?" he asked softly, stepping into the room like he's witnessing a hurt animal.

"It's okay!" I tried to beam a smile for him but it fell flat into some kind of grimace.

MacKenzie wasn't really my brother, he hailed from the Alban Pangborns so he's more like my very distant cousin but he's pack and that makes him my authority regardless. If he barked at me, I'd end up doing his bidding. Just like all my other brothers do. I'm grateful he doesn't do it but he still could nonetheless.

"You sprayed on the right amount," Kenz praised, giving me a small smile.

The praise made me want to preen, made me want to jump and shout for joy that I did something right but I kept it locked tight within me.

"You'll be pleased to know that your father and some of the others are going on a business trip soon. It'll just be some of us left in the house. You won't have to smell all this alpha shite around, you ken?"

His thick accent made me smile then. When he first came over from Alba I had not a fucking clue what he was talking about but now it almost feels like a secret language we speak.

"I ken," I nodded, setting the spray down on my dresser.

"Just wait a while to come down to get your dinner. The boys and I have been having a beta fucking feast," he wiggled his eyebrows and left the doorway without so much as a goodbye.

I wish I was a beta.

No, actually, I wished I was an alpha. I wished I was born an alpha so that I didn't have to be a disappointment and left out of everything.

Sitting down on my bed, I fluffed the uncomfortable comforter around me to no avail and since I know I'm alone I let out the most pitiful of whines. Whining wasn't allowed. My father told me that alphas hate whining more than anything.

Once I whined during dinner with the Landons and their alpha son looked like he wanted to tackle me from across the table. It was the one and only time I was able to go to dinner with my family. They never let me go again.

I apparently ruined their business merger dinner.

My family made a fuck ton of money. Too much money to count on your fingers, not that I'd ever see a cent. I wasn't worth a dollar to them. They own a vast majority of land across the globe, mostly farms or patches of free wilderness that people are begging to buy from them.

If only those vast patches of land would be able to buy me a soft comfortable comforter. This one is rough and itchy and I don't like it. I don't know much about being an omega but I do know that I don't like the blankets I own.

You see, omegas are rare. Like one in one hundred is an omega rare. Somewhere in history omegas just became a rarity and as such they're terribly hated.

Whenever I tried to ask the pack any questions they all shut me down with a growl and told me to go back to my room.

"Y/N!"

My father's bark was sharp and I tightened my terribly uncomfortable blanket over my shoulders at the noise.

If they are having a beta party downstairs I most certainly wouldn't be welcome to interrupt it. All the beta females that came into the house hated me. I tried to be friendly and smile, tried to make friends with other girls but they didn't want anything to do with me.

Probably feeding into the whole hate omega-kind thing, huh?

When my father shouted my name again, I had no choice but to get up. It was an alpha command now, filled with bite and fury.

If I saw one bare tit I was going to lose my goddamn mind. I'd been having these awful urges these past couple of months. It felt like something was boiling in my gut and itching beneath my skin, just begging to get out of me. What it was, I wasn't sure but it feels fucking awful and devastating just the same.

When I was starting to run a fever, my father would give me a few pills and lock me up in my room until the fever had passed and I was able to carry on with my chores.

My feet took me without thinking. The large home I lived in with the twelve others in the pack passed by in a blur. I tried not to look up from the wooden floorboards, I really didn't want to see anyone mating out in the open like I know my brothers loved to do.

I could hear the audible moans of the betas, probably in various states of undress all around me as I made my way to my father's office.

This had always been my home but I'd always felt like a stranger here. It's not just because my family wasn't welcoming, it just felt wrong. Nothing in this place is where it should be. The pictures on the cabin-like wooden walls weren't at all in the right order, the couches in the sitting room weren't staged properly, even the wood that goes into the fireplace smells horrendous.

Everything about this place made me feel sick.

That includes my father's office.

Once I stepped inside I was immediately smacked with pheromones, ones that made my stomach roll with nausea. I wonder if that's how everyone felt. I wonder if betas got nauseous with their families too.

My eyes scanned the room which was terribly out of order and then they caught on the one picture that sat on my father's desk.

It was her.

My mother. Whom of which I've never met. She was a beta that my father never bonded with but got pregnant anyway. He loved her…I think. But when she had me and I was an omega she was disappointed and left me here. She left me here alone. With these people.

Family.

She left me here with my family.

I hadn't realized I whined until my father cracked his hand down on his desk with a fierceness. "What did I say about that shit?!"

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Not that she ever does, eh?" my brother Riley laughed, elbowing me in the ribs as he passed.

Riley was an interesting case of smells. There's the cedar which makes sense because he spends a lot of time outdoors, there's the sharpness of spearmint like a powerful gum that makes your nostrils burn and…boysenberry?

He and MacKenzie have been sharing again. Definitely not uncommon for those two.

"Close the doors. She's gonna scare all the betas away. I'm not waiting another round for Hunter to have an alpha son of his own."

"Keep the lineage alive." That's the pack motto. What a terrible fucking bumper sticker that would be.

I stood there, looking down at my toes as my father and Riley talked and laughed with one another. Probably forgetting I was even in the room. Which happens sometimes.

"Alright, little O?" Kenz cheered, entering the office.

"Don't call her that," my father snapped, finally remembering I was around.

MacKenzie held his hands up in a gesture to soothe any frayed nerves and he sat down with a groan on the couch closest to father's desk.

"Y/N," my father began, not even offering the kindness to look at me. "Your brothers and I are going on a business trip outside of the city. Some of your brothers, like MacKenzie, are staying back because they have a dinner meeting at the house while I'm away."

My head lifts in surprise. Will I be allowed to go?! Can I eat dinner with my brothers?!

"There's many alphas in the pack, we can kill two birds with one stone. This business meeting is incredibly important for us."

My smile was megawatt and I nodded instantly. "Sure, of course! I can–"

"You can," my father interrupted with a sneer. "Make sure you stay in your room, take your pills and keep your scent blocker applied when the Euphoria Pack comes to the meeting. This contract will be our biggest one so far and I will not have your omega bullshit fuck it up for the rest of us. Do you understand?"

The disappointment and sorrow that swirled through me almost knocked me off my feet. "Oh, I see… I understand."

"See that you do. I won't stand for losing this deal because you couldn't handle yourself."

God, I wanted to curl up and die. I'm so pitiful. What a fucking waste. I wish I was never born an omega.

Trying to bury whines and suffering hurt sometimes and in this instance it felt like a red hot poker was shoved down my throat.

"She stinks like sadness," Riley chuckled, shaking out his long brown hair and looking me over with disdain dripping from every pore.

"Lighten up, brother. She's only human," Kenz laughed, stepping in front of me and waving his hand behind his back.

Get out.

That's what he was telling me.

"Dinner will be brought up to you. If you're feeling hot then take your pills. We're leaving in the morning and we won't be back for a few weeks."

Oh, thank God, I could do without seeing my father and half of my brothers for weeks on end. Maybe finally I would be able to walk around without getting yelled at.

Three days of the freedom I thought I would be acquiring went by too fast. I'd been left with my brothers that were the easiest to deal with. Brady, Ronan, MacKenzie, Dash and Hunter were, of course, the easiest to deal with because they never nagged me and they were always too busy fucking betas to really give a shit what I was doing.

The house stunk of sex and carefree fun but more importantly it smelled of my freedom. I was able to go out in the garden to read, to sunbathe, to smell something that wasn't garbage. It was heavenly.

I'd seen flowers I've never seen before, ones that weren't there the last time I was in the gardens. Apparently Leticia, one of the pack chasers, suggested sprucing things up. When I suggested it to my father I got sent up to my room with no dinner and pills because I was acting 'out of order.' I'm a person not a goddamn machine. How could I possibly be out of order?

But now with the three days of freedom gone, I'm once again left up in my room without a single thing to do. Defiance curled in my bones and I narrowed my eyes at the white little pills on my bedside table.

My father wasn't here, he wouldn't know if I took them or not. I'd rather get a fever then take them and feel even sicker than before. Those pills made me nauseous and I felt like reality was so far out of touch that I'd never get back to it. I did end up spraying the scent blocker, though. Just one little spritz, just enough to save the visiting alphas downstairs from my monstrous odor.

They shouldn't be subjected to a disgusting omega. An embarrassment to the family.

The sprawling cabin estate was large before our eyes but it pales in comparison to the mansion we just created on the outskirts of the state.

"I don't like the smell," Jin murmured to us.

The smell was honestly horrific. These alphas seemed to stew in the scents of sex and their own pheromones. You could smell the female betas like they were throwing out a wide casting net to repulse everyone around them.

"Why the fuck did we agree to this?" Taehyung grumbled, folding his arms.

"Because although they're disgusting, they're rich as fuck and they have the land we need to start up the center," Namjoon replied evenly, fixing his tie.

I couldn't seem to take my eyes off the enlarged wooden cabin in front of us. That's exactly what it was: a large, gigantic wooden house. It would be almost comical if it wasn't very real.

"I don't even wanna touch the door," Hoseok hissed, taking to kicking the front door insead.

Even in this day and age everyone lives with the one soul purpose of finding their person, their omega but this pack didn't seem to care about finding one. Not with the way their lodgings smelled.

Now, of course, finding an omega that's right for your pack is like finding a unicorn or finding gold at the end of a rainbow but packs do it. Not all the time but enough to keep packs hopeful, at least.

Once the door swung open, a red headed alpha before us smiled widely. "Gents, welcome! The Pangborn Pack is happy to have you!"

Namjoon gave him his typical killer smile and the alpha seemed to relax at it. Our pack leader was all killer charm and easy going… until you fuck with his pack.

The seven of us have only had each other for quite a few years now and our family depends on one another more than most.

"Thank you for having us," Jimin smiled, stepping into the home first.

His eyes bounced around the interior before nodding. Once I stepped into the entryway behind him, the need to look at the inside faded. In the air, apart from the alpha scents were the scents of dinner and something so deliciously sweet that it made my mouth water.

Fuck! What is that smell?!

"Made us dessert?" Namjoon inquired with a laugh.

So he can smell that too.

The scent was warm and sugary like a fresh out of the oven sugar cookie with vanilla ice cream slowly melting on top.

Why the fuck was I about to nut over dessert?

Casting my eyes to Taehyung, I could see him tugging at the collar of his expensive dress shirt.

It was getting increasingly hot in here, that I could guarantee.

The scent was so thick and practically viscous I could feel it wrapping around my cock and tugging sensuously. My knot was two seconds from expanding and the desire to rut until I was sated was pressing indecently on my brain.

"No dessert here, lads. The betas can barely cook a steak without it burning! We ordered out for dinner tonight! Dinnae ken billionaires like you would be opposed to that, eh?"

"Dinnae ken means didn't think," another alpha offered, slipping in beside the redhead. His hair was long and brown, shaggy even with a boyish smile that could probably charm anyone he laid his eyes on.

"That sounds great," Jin replied, unbuttoning his suit jacket and cracking his neck.

Whatever that fucking scent is, it has us all by the balls.

Namjoon gripped his hand into a fist, eyes glazing over all of us. "To the dining room, then?"

"Getting right down to business! I love that! We have betas to look after anyway," Red chortled, wiggling his eyebrows at us.

When the group of us moved with the two other alphas, my heart started to hammer as the smell became stronger.

I tried to temper my growl that wormed its way up my throat but Joon caught it. "I don't know what it is but fuck, I want it so bad," he agreed.

"Alright there, lads?"

"Just have to use the restroom. Would you mind sending me in the right direction?" I inquired, needing to find the words through a thick haze of want.

"Bathroom on the first floor is occupied for the betas. Second floor up that staircase there," Red pointed to the staircase from where the scent is strongest. "Fifth door on the right."

With a nod, I set off trying not to falter and stumble from the exquisite smell.

"We'll be waiting in the dining room. The pack is excited to make this merger," the brown haired man smiled.

Once they were out of sight I took the stairs two at a time, eyes searching for any indication of where the scent came from.

I let my senses guide me. Following the smell took me past the bathroom and past any rooms that smelt of the alphas. Stopping at the end of the hallway, the door before me was completely different from the others. It was metal, almost sterile in a sense. But the scent was there, it was so heady and present that my cock stood to attention.

"Oh fuck," I grunted, shoving open the door and barreling up the stairs.

The hallway I rushed down was bare of anything home-y and it looks like some sort of clinical hospital ward.

The door at the other end suddenly opened in a flourish and the sweetest little thing I'd ever seen stepped out with curious, glazed eyes.

"Omega," I groaned long and low, stepping toward her.

She was the maddening scent. She was what my pack was going crazy over.

"Oh! I'm so… I've never–" the sweet thing whispered, looking me over with hunger.

The perfect woman. Right before my fucking eyes. Those lips, those sweet eyes, that adorable, if not a little scared smile, that fucking body. Built just for me and my other pack brothers.

Mine, mine, mine! Every cell in my body screamed it with frantic need.

"Why do you smell so good?" she whimpered, lifting a hand as if she wanted to touch me.

Please fucking touch me. Holy shit, I was going out of my fucking mind from this perfect little thing.

"What do I smell like, sweetness?" I inquired, stepping closer.

"Like warm hot chocolate and marshmallows. Not like garbage at all!" she gasped, looking up with wide, innocent eyes.

A laugh tumbled past my lips. What an innocent creature.

"Does everyone smell like garbage to you, sweetness?"

"I just want to…" she groaned, a whimper slipping past her lips.

A purr started in my chest, rattling my bones with how thick and heavy it was. Oh fuck, I'd never purred for anyone before.

"What do you want?" I asked softly, holding my hands up to show her I mean no harm.

She gripped my wrist with a dainty hand probably thinking it had a fierceness she didn't embody. She lifted my hand to her soft cheek and my purr started up once more.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized, not taking her eyes off mine. "I know omegas are disgusting. I shouldn't bother you."

The sweet purr she pulled from me turned to a growl in an instant. "You could never be disgusting. Omegas are precious. Didn't your alphas teach you that?"

She stared up at me, eyes starting to brim with tears.

Oh my God, she was everything I could have ever wanted. My pants were so fucking tight, my heart feels like it was gonna combust and I'm pretty damn sure I just met my fucking mate.

"They're not really my alphas," she whispered softly, keeping my wrist close to her nose.

I wanted to take this gorgeous woman and lock her away where no one but the pack can find her. Holy shit, my brain was turning to fucking mush.

"What are they then if not your alphas?" I asked, stepping closer.

When my chest brushed against hers, she perfumed the air for me and another purr ripped from my chest like it was an instrument being played purely for her.

"Brothers, father," she mumbled, lost in a haze of our own making.

"So you don't have a pack of your own, sweetness?" I whispered, coursing my thumb over her cheek.

"No one would want me. I'm useless," the omega replied so softly I might not have heard her if not for her keeping my attention ensnared.

"I highly doubt that, pretty girl. What's your name?"

"Y/N…"

Beautiful.

"I'm Jeongguk. It's nice to meet you, sweetness."

"I can't take it. I can't take it. I can't take it!" Jimin chanted, rushing into the hallway.

The omegas gasp was loud and frightened for only a moment until she laid eyes on the other alpha. I purred for her, watching her instantly relax at the noise.

"This is Jimin. He's a part of my pack. The Euphoria Pack."

"Oh no, I've…I've ruined dinner. My father will be so upset with me," she groaned, sounding not as upset as she probably would be if I wasn't purring up a fucking storm.

"Scent sympathetic. I thought it was like a fucking myth for people like us," Jimin laughed, stepping up beside me.

He didn't seem jealous or upset at all that my hands were on her. We've never tried for an omega, not really. Unfortunately, most omegas wanted us for our money and not for the connection. Not to mention most of the omegas we met smelled so cloyingly sweet that it gave us headaches for weeks. Most omegas wanted just some of us but not all of us and that doesn't bode well for a pack.

"You smell like calming tea and blueberries," Y/N breathed, blinking up at him.

"And you smell like a yummy dessert, sweetheart. How's such a pretty omega like you hidden up here away from everything?"

"Why are you being so nice to me? I'm just an omega," she whimpered, looking between us.

"'Just an omega'? Don't you know your worth, pretty girl?" I scoffed, tilting my head.

She opened her mouth to reply, only to shut it and furrow her eyebrows.

"I want to introduce her to the pack. I think this is it. I think we found our girl," Jimin beamed at me, allowing her to pull him closer.

She seemed to be a needy little thing. One we certainly wouldn't mind doting on. She also seemed completely out of touch with reality and it wasn't just because she was obsessed with our scents.

"Do you have a nest, sweetness? Would you care to show us?"

A nest is very sacred to omegas, it's one of the only places they can find comfort during heats and in times of stress. It was incredibly forward for me to ask but I wanted to know what she liked. I knew my hopes might be high but I wanted to set up the nest in the new mansion how she would like it. Because she was mine. She was ours. She belonged with us.

"I– What's a nest?" Y/N asked, eyebrows pinching innocently.

"Do not fucking tell me you're kept in the dark up here," Jimin growled deeply, his scent turning acidic.

Instead of turning tail and running, she started to… climb him?

She climbed him like a fucking tree. And the good looking bastard was all for it.

One arm snaked around her waist to keep her up and the other ran up and down her back in soothing motions.

She nuzzled his cheek and neck, whimpering and begging for his scent to be all over her.

"Good girl," Jimin cooed, purring for her. "Take what you want, sweetheart. We'll gladly give it."

There were rules to getting an omega, courting before mating and making sure your omega was happy and well looked after. In some cities omegas even went to Help Centers to find their perfect pack but Cypress City had no such thing. That was what we were trying to change. That was why we needed this deal with this pack.

"I don't know what's happening! I'm so sorry! I just feel so…"

"Overwhelmed?" Jimin offered, pulling back to look at her.

She nodded, whimpering and tucking her face into the crook of his neck.

"We need to talk to the pack," I told him, pressing my chest to her back and purring. I drifted the back of my hand over her bare arm and she seemed to thrive on not only praise but physical affection.

"I can't leave her," Jimin hissed over her shoulder, hugging her tighter at the thought of having to part.

"I don't want you to go! Please! I'm so tired of being alone! Please don't go!" she sobbed into his neck.

A growl ripped from my chest at her sadness and I was storming off before I even knew what was happening.

She's mine. She's mine. She's mine.

"Guk!" Jimin called but I was already barreling down the stairs with a fierceness building in my chest.

They kept that precious omega in a sterile fucking ward like she was some sort of disease. She didn't even know what a nest was! It was a disgrace! She'd been abused without even understanding anything!

She's mine!

If one more sob of hers entered my ears, I thought I might burn their oversized camp cabin down and dance on the embers.

Shoving open the dining room doors, I glowered at the pack that sat high and mighty at the end of the long dining room table. Once they saw me and smelled me, they all stood.

"Been wandering around our home, have you?" Red asked with the tilt of his head.

"Stupid girl can't do anything but get herself in trouble!" one of them sneered.

The insult made a growl rip from my throat and they all stared long and hard at me. I wouldn't stand for this. I couldn't stand for this.

"She doesn't even know what a fucking nest is. How dare you all treat an omega like this! This is abuse!" I boomed, widening my eyes at them.

My packs jaws fell open in shock and suddenly they were standing to surround me, to have my back.

"She's scent sympathetic with us," Jimin assured, entering the room with her still cradled to him.

I was happy she liked him. He's far more easy going and carefree then most of us and she'd enjoy his company.

My pack stepped toward her and she cried sweetly at all of their scents. They purred for her and my heart expanded. No one was left out and she locked eyes with all of them. She jumped ship from Jimin to Namjoon and he nuzzled her hair. He wrapped her legs around him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Would you like to leave this place, pet?" he inquired.

“She'll do no such thing!" Red boomed.

When she whimpered at the alpha bite, we growled in defiance.

"You think your bark is bad? Mine was given to me by the devil. If I have to force you to obey, I fucking will. It's the omegas choice. You can't keep her here like a fucking prisoner!" Joon boomed.

"She's not a part of the deal," one of the Pangborn's hissed through his teeth.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she gasped repeatedly, trying to set herself down.

"Do you want to get down, pet?" Namjoon asked, tilting her jaw to look up at him.

She reluctantly shook her head, burying her face back into his neck.

Oh fuck, she's so perfect and sweet.

"Then you stay exactly where you are," the pack leader whispered, giving her his wrist to be able to tilt his head and glower at the Pangborn pack.

"You expect me to pay? For a person?! Are you out of your small alpha minds?" Namjoon bit out, sneering at her brothers.

"MacKenzie… Dad is gonna flip," one of them breathed.

"I'm tired of always having to sneak Juliet around. Just be rid of her. Omegas are nothing but trouble."

Hoseok growled so loudly, something he never does, that it almost made my chest rattle.

"I know you don't know us very well," Seokjin breathed slowly as the other pack continued to argue. "But if you feel safe with us we'd like to take you somewhere you can be yourself and be happy. How does that sound, princess? You deserve much better than this shithole."

"I won't feel sick?" she inquired, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

Oh, she's killing me here.

"Do you feel sick in this house?" Yoongi growled, narrowing his eyes at the other pack.

Her nod was slow and sad.

"I'm getting her out of here. Now!" Namjoon boomed, pressing her face into the scent gland of his neck.

She seemed to love being held. We could do that for her. We could give her anything and everything she wants. We could be good for her.

"Give us a million!" Red or MacKenzie called back but Namjoon was already heading for the door.

"Get fucked!" our pack leader growled.

"Wh-Where are we going?" Y/N asked, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

"Home, sweetness," I promised. "We're going home."

#ABO #Finding My Pack #Chapter 1 #Chap 1 #Omegaverse #ot7 x reader #alpha!ot7 #omega!fmc #omega!reader #jeongguk #jungkook #fic #bts fic #yoongi #seokjin #namjoon #jimin #hoseok #taehyung

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lo1k-diamonds · 1 month ago

Text

Be as it must 💜 Part 3

“Is there more to learn about you, Jungkook?”

PAIRING: Alpha!Jungkook x Omega(f)reader

SUMMARY: You try to resist the CEO's charms, but it's hard... At least until the other shoe drops.

WORD COUNT: 8.9 k

GENRE: ABO, strangers to lovers, fated lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: tension and teasing, and angst

A.N. A huge thank you to @moonleeai for the beta read💜 This was never supposed to be so long, but I'm a fan of making the reader fall in love too... Before the bomb drops 💣 Enjoy 😉

You thought getting kidnapped would be the most bizarre experience you had ever been through, but it seemed like CEO Jeon Jungkook had other thoughts.

If it wasn’t weird that you entered his gigantic Seoul building while unconscious and tied up, it had to be that you exited escorted by the man himself, right into a car that you had only ever seen on television. You shrunk into the back seat, not only feeling weird with the surrounding spacious, immaculate leather, but with the fact that beyond the smoked glass, the CEO was telling something to the driver before he got inside the car.

You refused to look back to confirm whether the CEO had stayed put, watching you go; instead, you closed your eyes and heaved a deep sigh. It was outlandish that you wanted to turn around and see him there, as if you needed reassurance, when in truth, he was part of the problem.

You thought the weirdness would end there, which led you to look outside the window and see the tall buildings reflecting the city lights as the car moved. He was your boss, after all. If anything, he did need you to deal with the American consortium negotiations. And you trusted his word; he said you could leave once it was all said and done, so you weren’t a prisoner.

But you did not expect what he had planned for you.

“CEO Jeon has asked me to convey to you that he means to assure your comfort,” the man, Seung Ji-Young, said after introducing himself as the CEO’s driver and assistant, looking at you through the rearview mirror. You raised an eyebrow. “Given the circumstances, he has made arrangements to have a series of boutiques welcome you so you may relax and feel right at home.”

Your forehead creased as you took a glance at the time displayed on the dashboard, “At this hour?”

“Of course.”

You blinked, glancing again — 20:25. You shook your head, “Why would I need clothes? Unless—” You leaned forward, “What happened to my luggage?”

“We have it, rest assured.”

You couldn’t stop frowning at the weirdness of it all, “Right.”

“If there is somewhere else you’d like to go to relax, like a spa, it is not a problem. I’ve been instructed to drive you wherever you’d like.”

Your lips became an uneasy line, “No, I’m fine.”

The man nodded as he drove with a serious demeanor, “Then may I suggest a Michelin star—”

“No,” you interrupted swiftly, afraid that his offers would never stop. “Just— Just take me home— I mean, where I’m supposed to sleep.”

“Certainly.”

You groaned mutely and rubbed your eyes; now, even you were talking weirdly. But could anyone blame you after everything that had happened?

You stayed quiet as the car drove smoothly through narrower and narrower streets. Despite trusting what the CEO had said, you couldn’t help the uneasiness twisting your guts.

Finally, the car entered an underground garage and you were able to breathe. Mr Seung circled the car to get your small luggage from the back, including your handbag, and you bowed in relief, finding in it all your very important documents and belongings. It certainly comforted you enough to follow Mr Seung across the parking lot and into the elevator with a renewed sureness that you were not a prisoner.

“Would you like to go straight to your suite or take a look at the amenities first?”

His voice was as gentle as ever, and you tried to offer him a small smile, “Straight to bed would be best.” He pressed the keypad to select the 48th floor, and you frowned again, “Shouldn’t I check in first?”

“You mean with the concierge? No, he’s aware of your presence and available 24 hours in case you need anything.”

Your mouth opened, but you quickly closed it; maybe the CEO owned an apartment. That would justify why you weren’t at a hotel right now. You honestly didn’t care as long as you could put that day behind you.

The final straw took form in the quiet, gentle explanation of Mr Seung, “The amenities at your disposal include the residence lounge, gym, movie theater, swimming pool and spa. The latter includes a sauna, whirlpool, jet bath, and steam room at any hour, while the massages and skin and body treatments are available during the day. Of course, given the circumstances, a call can be made to arrange any treatment of your preference within the hour. Anything from a massage to a mud bath can be arranged; please don’t hesitate.”

You nodded respectfully while you screamed in your head — why was this happening? You just wanted your head to hit the pillows. The exhaustion taking over your mind was rendering you out of order, yet that ahjussi was so nice. Why was it all so hard?

“Ah, here we are,” he said as the elevator came to a stop gently with a sweet voice announcing the floor over the speakers.

You exited the elevator first, though you waited for Mr Seung to indicate to you which of the two doors was intended for you and to type the code in.

Once the door opened, you entered and braced yourself with eyes so wide they were twice the size. The stairs to your left indicated you were in a duplex penthouse, but it was the open concept of the space that floored you. Oak herringbone floors expanded into a panoramic view through floor-to-ceiling windows from one side of the building to the other. The soft touches of the white furniture and long couch in the living room extended into the dining room with a long glass table with an exorbitant vase of flowers that brought a heart stopping pop of color.

You blinked, befuddled, at the luxury surrounding you, and Mr Seung passed by you to indicate the next room, “There is the kitchen, should you need to arrange something, and a private terrace for your enjoyment as well.”

You glanced over the natural stone tops in shades of pure white matching the cabinets and circled the island to check what he was talking about. The view continued on that side of the building, leaving you speechless. From that high, the world looked small. It was as if that place was out of touch with reality.

“But perhaps you’d like to see the guest suite,” he smiled, and you just nodded.

You followed him back towards the staircase, ready to pick up your luggage, when he waved at a paper on the foyer table.

“CEO Jeon wanted you to know the password so you can make use of the apartment as you please. He’s also asked me to inform you that everything is at your disposal, including all snacks and beverages.”

You blinked, trying to keep up through the stupor, “How did he have time to fill up the pantry?”

You were wondering more to yourself, but Mr Seung chuckled, “We do it for him, of course. He particularly likes shrimp crackers, but I’m sure he won’t mind if you take some.”

You could only frown as though the information was odd. Mr Seung grabbed your luggage and started his way up the stairs, and you finally managed to say, “He lives here?”

“Of course, he owns the building.”

He didn’t stop, thus missing the way your grimace spelled a What?! with furrowed eyebrows, wide eyes and parted lips. You looked around you once more, taking in the crazy luxury surrounding you before hurrying up the stairs. You thought he had booked a hotel room for you, at most owned an empty apartment, and that was already in the realm of stupidly crazy rich. But what did he mean, the CEO lived here? Here, as in the building? Or here, as in—

Your breath caught as you reached the upper floor. The wall that faced the floor-to-ceiling window was entirely covered by a dark blue tapestry with glistening silver stars surrounding a central half-moon serving as the base of a vibrant orange tiger lily, shining brighter than any celestial bodies around it. You swallowed hard and looked at the master room across from where Mr Seung had disappeared with your luggage. Someone lived there, and you didn’t need more than the half-moon and dark blue colors to remember the Jeon Family emblem. Still, if that wasn’t enough, his scent reaching your nose told you everything you needed to know.

“Here you have it, the guest suite.”

Mr Seung was smiling as he opened the door to a walk-in closet, a small office, and then, across the room, to the ensuite bathroom. Meanwhile, a view as breathtaking as downstairs greeted you, and you continued to be flabbergasted.

“I thought he meant a hotel…” you whispered.

“CEO Jeon wanted to make sure of your comfort personally.”

You glanced at the man, and it was only because he seemed dead serious, almost concerned, that you didn’t throw your hands to the ceiling. Who cared about what the CEO wanted?! You were tired! And overwhelmed! And done with everything being blown out of proportion!

“But, of course, if you are dissatisfied, I can arrange for a five-star—”

“No, no, please,” you found yourself raising a hand and closing your eyes, begging him to stop. “I’ll stay, this is fine. No, perfect. It’s perfect, I’m perfectly happy.”

Mr Seung’s eyes instantly softened, as though you being pleased comforted him deeply. “I’m glad to hear it. I’m usually available to drive CEO Jeon at 6 AM, but should you require me to be available earlier, I’d be happy to assist you.”

You stared at the man, speechless. How was he so kind and sweet, and where did he come from?

“No, I— I can get to the office by mys—” You bit your tongue, then raked your hair back. What was the point, really? “I normally go to the office around eight thirty, so please don’t hurry because of me. I need to sleep. Badly.”

You huffed the last words, but Mr Seung stiffened as though he had been stung, “Of course, I won’t hold you any longer. Have a good night.”

He bowed deeply, making you rush to do the same before he left quietly. Your fingers gripped your hair roots as you looked around you — what the fuck? The incredible cityscape view, the suite that was probably your apartment size, the room across from yours where CEO Jeon slept… Everything was just surreal.

You woke up the next morning with a renewed vitality. Not because that was the best bed you had ever slept in, the biggest shower you had ever used, or the most delicious breakfast you had ever had, but because you had processed things. CEO Jeon Jungkook was an alpha of the Jeon Family who, through medieval means, had committed a crime based solely on your blood. Your rare designation did not excuse it, and as such, he was trying his best to accommodate you to prevent you from causing a scene, suing, exposing, or all of the above. There was a potential additional agenda that involved the traditional matching of an omega to an alpha, but you were in the XXI century. Alphas didn’t have to be with omegas, rare as they were, and you would not be coerced into engaging in such ancient customs. CEO Jeon would respect your wishes, and you believed his word.

He had even entered and left his own apartment without a word or a sound. You had slept like a rock — perhaps surprisingly, you felt safe there — but you had expected to see him at breakfast, at least. In the end, the only proof you had of his fleeting presence was the closed bedroom door and dirty coffee mug at the head of the dining table. You almost felt bad for potentially making him uncomfortable, but then remembered this was all his fault. Plus, he probably made Mr Seung drive him at 6 AM, which was also barbaric.

It brought a smile to your face to see Mr Seung’s happiness when you told him how you had rested well. You believed his care ran deeper than any CEO Jeon’s order, though you couldn’t help wondering if it was because he knew of your designation.

Fortunately, at the office, such things didn’t matter. As soon as you said your name to one of the secretaries on the last floor, she instantly provided you with your own office and badge, explaining how everything worked. You were used to sharing an office, but you had decided not to complain. Live and let live. If the CEO wanted to overbear you with such things, you’d accept them quietly. You just needed to do your job and leave.

Your laptop remained your own, so entering the workflow was seamless. You were pleased to find all the information about the rescheduled meetings, and emails about other projects you were working on. You even made sure to check in and reassure Yoon Minsik, your mentor, before attending the first in-person meeting with the legal team of that office.

Although you had only met most of them online, it was a cordial and nice moment before starting what you hoped would be a fruitful meeting. But then CEO Jeon arrived.

Before, you were just a member of the team, participating in meetings you’d otherwise attend online. After he entered the room, however, you were an omega in the presence of an alpha who easily disrupted the flow of the conversation.

You didn’t believe he did it on purpose, in his defense. You could smell humans amongst the team, and even they were affected by the CEO’s presence. What you’d like to say is that you, contrary to them, were not impacted in any way, but that was not the case.

You had to clear your voice as you spoke and actively force yourself to pretend he wasn’t there. Inwardly, you kept reassuring yourself that it was just that department meeting to coordinate ongoing projects. He wasn’t usually there, but maybe he had made an exception this time.

Only CEO Jeon was present in every meeting.

It was exhausting to focus on each different project and give your best while trying to ignore him. Not that he spoke a lot, but when he did, it threw your attention completely off. He looked so fine. That black designer suit framed his large shoulders deliciously, making every move as evident as possible. Making you imagine what it would be like to be caged in by said arms, embracing you as if—

“Hey!”

You blinked and looked away as everyone got up from their chairs. You should have noticed the meeting ended and that the CEO had been forced to leave, called by that woman, his secretary — Sunhwa.

You faced one of your colleagues, who was smiling expectantly, “Should we have lunch together?”

It was easy to accede and join her and the team, but your thoughts remained on Sunhwa. She wasn’t present in the meetings, but you had noticed her easily because every single time you had to move between meeting rooms — and the CEO did the same — she showed up to talk to him, pass him a file, or just accompany him. To the point you wondered if he needed a bodyguard and heard whispers of other people potentially commenting the same. You couldn’t help feeling bad for her; you couldn’t decide if she was jealous of you, with all the stink eyes she threw your way at every chance, or overzealous.

Regardless, you thought it didn’t matter because, in the afternoon, things would be different. Those meetings would be all about the American consortium negotiations, both internal and external, and you ran those without the presence of the CEO.

You had to huff quietly as he pulled the chair next to you, oddly sharing with you the head of that meeting room table. Except for a glance and polite smile, you didn’t give him any more of your attention. It was unsettling enough if your boss would accompany you to every meeting as if to assess your worth, but the fact that he was so close, with big brown eyes trained on you while his scent made your head spin… It made it a thousand times harder.

Still, you braved through the meeting, expecting things to go well because that was your element. What you didn’t count on were his interruptions.

“I’m certain we don’t need to renegotiate the time window; they will surely accept it.”

“Have we established concrete rules for the use of prototypes?”

“What about intellectual rights? As the manufacturer, shouldn’t we obtain the rights to all procedures that we optimize during development?”

Your expression softened, “According to agreement stipulations, by signing, we commit to safely keep their intellectual property, which includes all manufacturing processes. If these are optimized, they will be added to the patent. We will, of course, negotiate appropriate compensation should that happen, including access to prototypes and benefits should the production cost or time be reduced.”

The room was quiet after you spoke, but you had forgotten about them. Instead, your eyes were fixed on the CEO’s. Very round and very big, almost sparkling at you, entirely taken by what you had said. His gaze was curious, intense and interested, so you couldn’t be mad about his disruptions.

Still, you sighed. He was distracting.

“Let’s proceed to the financial section,” you asked, waving at the appropriate head of the department to speak up.

The CEO tapped his tablet to jump to the appropriate page of the document, clearing his throat, and you subtly leaned to whisper into his ear, “Focus.”

Your eyes met when you pulled back, and it was like the record changed. If his questions seemed chaotic and somewhat disconnected before, now they were spot on. From one meeting to the other, including with the American company representatives, every comment was precise, demonstrating flawlessly why the Jeon conglomerate was unavoidable in the South Korean industry.

You were secretly impressed, though you expected nothing less. Perhaps the way you had managed to work together so seamlessly in front of the American company representatives was surprising, but you imagined that a pro like him could make it work with anyone. He wasn’t nicknamed good at everything for nothing.

You assumed he was pleased, too, when the video call ended, and he leaned back into his chair, laughing quietly. His glee made you smile as you gathered your things and closed your laptop, observing everyone else in the room calling it a day while you wondered if Mr Seung would take you home. It was silly of you, but with everything that happened, you didn’t even memorize the address—

“That was so smooth. I think we floored them,” he grinned, getting up to his feet as though he was even more energized than before.

You chuckled and nodded, putting your laptop in your bag. Maybe that was so, but you were ready to go home.

“Have dinner with me.”

You stopped shy of closing the bag and looked at him instantly, batting your eyelashes with all your befuddlement.

“We have to celebrate,” he continued, and his grin reemerged as though he couldn’t contain it.

“They haven’t signed it yet,” you were quiet, instinctively reasoning with him despite not even being able to fully think right now.

He chuckled, “But they will, no doubt. I’m sure we will have a response by tomorrow and a verbal agreement shortly after.”

You nodded and looked down, unable to stop the way your body reacted. He was taller than you, broad, all-encompassing, and smelled strong, sweet...dizzying. There were two sides to that moment: who he was — so destabilizing, you thought there was no avoiding it — and what he was saying — so professional, when you wanted to forget all about it.

Fortunately, in your hazed mind, the latter won. “We’ll wrap up sooner, and I’ll get to return to Busan faster, then.”

Your entranced eyes captured the way his jaw hardened easily. His eyes sparked differently, with a look to them that caused a tingle to go down your spine, but he nodded, “Indeed. So dinner tonight.”

His tone implied you were just giving him more reasons to insist, and the corners of your lips twitched mischievously. Maybe you were; it was hard to resist.

“CEO Jeon?”

You stiffened like you had just been caught stealing candy and didn’t bother to look. You forced the zipper closed and grabbed your bag, purposefully pushing what Sunhwa was telling the CEO to fade with the background noise. Whatever it was, maybe it was a good thing — you needed distance to think, too.

You bowed to both on your way out and didn’t mean to spare a glance, but his voice beckoned you to look back, “Mr Seung is in the parking lot, please go with him.”

You nodded, meaning to appease the worry in his voice and eyes, and melted when you succeeded. His features instantly returned to a confident, dazzling smile before turning to Sunhwa about whatever work-related issue she was referring to, and you had to swallow. You shouldn’t be so attuned to how he felt; it didn’t make any sense. Still, as you made your way to his apartment with his driver, all you could think was that you never officially accepted his invitation.

Jungkook nodded after Mr Seung confirmed that he had dropped you off safely at the apartment, where you had stayed for the last three hours. You hadn’t requested to go anywhere in particular, and arrangements had been made for dinner, so he could relax.

He sighed as he closed his eyes and let the purr of the car lull him. He knew it would be an interesting day, but not even his wildest dreams could have prepared him for it.

First, arriving home the night before to the faint trace of your sweet jasmine scent absolutely threw him off. The whole night he had to keep himself in check; no, he couldn’t follow your delicate perfume to your bed, touch you, or claim you. You probably didn’t trust him after the way you ended up there, and he wasn’t a creep. He could reign in his primal urge and leave the decision up to you. He could show you that being next to him was fate, as intrinsically inescapable as the Earth and Moon orbiting each other. You’d realize that soon enough and ask him to touch you instead.

He could barely sleep, so his second move was to leave the apartment as soon as humanly possible. He needed to review everything about the projects you were working on, plus get his work out of the way so he could attend every meeting of yours and watch you in your element.

Jungkook was frankly impressed; you were like a fish in water, navigating every topic and hurdle effortlessly. He wasn’t sure you noticed how everyone quieted down to listen to you and obliged and interacted every time you requested it, but it was a wonder to see. If he hadn’t smelled your designation, he would have wondered what kind of woman conducted such ease and readiness.

Unfortunately, you were also incredibly distracting. Not only was he probably not of use to you in your work, but he was also falling behind in the slightest with his duties. Sunhwa kept reminding him, of course, and he appreciated it, but he couldn’t bring himself to worry about anything else.

Which made him wonder if you’d be a liability and not an asset if you stayed. However, that was a fleeting thought because as soon as it emerged, it evaporated when you whispered into his ear, “Focus.”

The whiff of your scent hit him so hard he had to close his eyes so no one would see them rolling back. Then he faced you, and your gaze did something to him. It was strong and encouraging, and he was set. Suddenly, he could focus. His mind was clear and everything just worked.

It was incredible, inebriating; better than hitting the jackpot, it was like you were his focus token that increased his abilities by two hundred percent. So inviting you to dinner was as easy as breathing. You mentioning Busan again almost ruined his mood, but then you obliged with big, starry eyes when he asked you to drive with Mr Seung in the exact spot he was in now, going home to you, and he couldn’t help the widest grin. He hadn’t lost you, not yet.

He knew it was late, and he wouldn’t dream of keeping you starving while waiting for him. Your shoes and handbag were by the entrance, so he knew you were inside. There was noise from the kitchen, though that couldn’t be you, so he jumped on the couch and heaved a deep breath, closing his eyes. He loved the sweet scent that lingered around the house because of you; it instantly relaxed him but also gave him a push. Maybe he should check on you—

He heard steps down the stairs at the same time his personal chef exited the kitchen to inform him dinner was ready and on the table.

“Would you like me to stay and serve?”

Jungkook dismissed the chef swiftly and quietly, acknowledging their head bow just in time to turn to you. His hand was on the noose of his tie, instantly loosening it as his mouth watered. He was starving, but it wasn’t food on his mind as he ate up the view.

You were wearing something quite professional — black dress pants with a silk blouse that was a hint of blue. He would have thought you too formal if it weren’t for your bare feet stepping quietly on the wood floor, along with your still-humid hair falling in waves over your shoulders and chest. But like this, he could only smile at you entering the living room and imagine you jumping into his arms to welcome him home after a long day. Then, what you wore wouldn’t matter, not because he’d be free to undress you, but because with your touch, everything would feel whole.

You bowed politely to the chef, watching them go, and it gave Jungkook a moment of clarity: what he felt was beyond simple interest. It wasn’t fascination or attraction, it was everything combined. He didn’t think it was possible; a skeptical part of him still insisted it wasn’t.

But then you opened your mouth and changed the very axis upon which his world spun. “Good evening.”

He could only smirk; the simplest words could escape your lips, and he’d drink them like they were gospel, “Good evening.”

Your astute eyes observed him, and it was like lying down at the beach under the warm sunlight, “Was there a problem at the office?”

He tilted his head, “I needed to finish up some things. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

Your lips twitched as you nodded, “It’s not a problem. In fact, I realized I never accepted your invitation, so I wasn’t sure if it still stood.”

He smirked, “It does, and it looks like you accepted.”

His arms stretched over the back of the couch, and you had to consciously keep your feet from taking you to him. It wasn’t an invitation, no matter how inviting it seemed.

“I thought it was wise to be ready,” you informed, taking a few steps to the side, unable to stay still.

“To have dinner with me?”

“To celebrate,” you corrected, trying to resist his smirk by keeping your expression as neutral as possible.

“By yourself?”

His eyebrow quirked, daring, and you finally smiled, “I was told there is a residence lounge. Thought I could get a drink there, and who knows who could join me.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, and he laughed openly, “You’re right.” He got up, loosening his tie completely and throwing it on the couch. It was enough to tense your back, dissipating your smile as you observed him taking off his suit coat and leaving it next to the tie. “I should have started by offering a drink. Is wine okay?”

Blood spread to your cheeks, but he didn’t notice as he turned around to enter the dining room. It gave you a moment to breathe. “If it’s red. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll have to leave.”

His laughter was music to your ears as you followed him, only to confirm that the person leaving was wearing a white chef coat for good reason. The glass dining table was set for two, at the head and the place to its right, and in between, an assortment of dishes released a delicious warm scent. From meat to shrimp, noodles to rice, boiled, fermented or fried, it seemed the chef had decided to leave you with a big variety just so you could have anything you possibly wanted.

Your eyes turned to him, his back facing you as he got a red wine bottle from the wine cooler. “This is incredible,” you voiced, unafraid of sounding too easily impressed. That table with the panoramic view and the incredible lighting showing his gleeful smile would easily shake anyone.

“I’m happy you like it.”

“Do you always have dinner like this?”

He placed the bottle on the table, twisting the corkscrew to get it open, “No, not at all. I asked for something special tonight.”

You heard the pop of the cork coming off, but that wasn’t why your heart skipped a beat. He reached for a wine glass on the table, poured a line of wine, then swirled it and took a soft sniff, smiling ecstatically after.

He raised the glass to you, and you stepped forward to accept it, entranced. You took a whiff, too, and the sweet, dark fruit aromas made your eyelashes flutter. You detected the blackberries and plums, and surely a trace of cloves.

Your reaction was enough for him to nod and pour a glass for himself. His shifting attention allowed you to swallow and ask, “Was this what you had in mind?”

He smirked, then turned to you, and your heart flipped again. He had shortened the distance between you and cupped your hand around the glass to tilt it forward towards his chest. The wine glugs, filling your glass, were but an afterthought as you looked at him, his eyes so close you could see stars.

“Absolutely,” he said quietly, yet you heard him so clearly. His expression was likely as serious as yours, mirroring the same tension as he took the bottle away. “This was exactly what I had in mind.”

The sound of the bottle being placed on the table didn’t rattle you; nothing was louder than your racing heart. His hand left yours, and although you could see the reluctance, you bit your inner lip to stay quiet. Being that close didn’t mean just having your breath stolen by his sparkly eyes or unique beauty marks; it also meant seeing how red his eyes were.

“I see… but if you're too tired, we can take a rain check.”

You were certain your worry was easily heard in your voice, yet he shook his head with a returning wide smile and raised his glass between you, “Not a chance.”

Your lips twitched, but you nodded and raised your glass to clink his, bringing it to your lips as he did the same. The velvety taste matched its aroma perfectly, but you weren’t paying attention. His eyes were locked with yours as though that tension was unbreakable, and you realized you didn’t know what you were celebrating. He didn’t specify the toast, and somehow, you knew work had stayed in the office tonight.

When you put the glass down, you weren’t sure you were dizzy with the alcohol or the moment, but your cheeks were hot. You ignored it, just to keep staring into the stars in his eyes, when a stomach growl cut the silence.

You looked down at his stomach, covered by a black button shirt, then up, “Woah, that was powerful.”

He smirked and rubbed the back of his head, “Sorry, I’m starving. Let’s dig in.” He waved at you to sit by his side, “Please, go ahead. Take anything you’d like.”

He held back, even as you took your time to observe the table and take your pick. He adjusted himself on the chair, but it was surprisingly easy to let you start first. It was just right.

“I wanted to have samgyeopsal,” he confessed, smiling sheepishly. “But we’d have to go to a real barbecue for that and—”

Your eyes widened with a spark, a small gasp jerking your shoulders as you reached for a bowl, “Not a problem.”

He raised an eyebrow at your sudden interest, then chuckled, “Do you like japchae that much?”

“My absolute favorite,” you nodded, filling your plate with utmost focus.

“Alright, I’ll make it for you a lot.”

You had started eating but stopped stuffing your face with the delicious noodles, raising your eyebrows at him instead while he served himself. “You can cook?”

He chuckled, “I love cooking. I’d be showing off my skills right now, but I’m more interested in talking to you.” The butterflies in your stomach twirled around as you stared up at him. He only chuckled, “But now I know. Let’s see, what else? What about makguksu? I have an awesome recipe as well.”

It was easy to eat while you discussed food, especially if it was a chance to quiz him and confirm he knew what he was talking about. He did, and you overlooked his initial promise to cook for you in exchange for a normal, healthy culinary debate.

But neither of you wanted to eat or talk about food all night. He ate a lot, you noticed, and by the end, every dish was done. The red bottle was empty too, so it was the perfect moment to get up.

“I’ll grab another one,” he said, waving at the couch while he headed to the wine cooler. It could have been your chance to say goodnight, but you didn’t want to. “Why do you only drink red?” He asked loudly, and you turned to look over your shoulder at him. “Can't it be Lambrusco?”

You chuckled and sat on the couch, “Lambrusco is a red, and it's delicious. Bring it on!”

The sound of the bottle being dragged out of the cooler, placed on the glass dining table, and popped open made your skin tingle pleasurably. It could be his proximity messing with your nerves, or the alcohol. A cautious part of you thought it was best to call it a night, but the bottle was already open, and he was already extending a new glass to you.

You clinked glasses in silence again once he sat down, and this time, you didn’t bother wondering about the occasion.

“Why not white?”

He mused after the sweetness made him click his tongue, and you sighed with a second sip, “Too acidic for me.”

“Noted,” he nodded, his features serious. “I'll get rid of all whites to make space for more Lambrusco.”

You laughed, “Why would you refine your stock based on my taste?”

He laughed with you, then bit his lip. You smiled as you took another sip, and you looked so happy, simply enjoying yourself, that his priorities shifted. “I like learning more about you.”

“You do?”

You sounded surprised, but he didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Well, I haven't learned as much about you,” you scrunched your nose, choosing to take things lightly, and he chuckled.

“I'm sure you already know a lot.”

You tried not to scoff, “I don’t. You think because you’re the CEO, I would know your taste in wine?” Your tone only made him laugh more, leaning back into a pillow that had his abandoned suit coat before he faced you again. “Do you even like reds?”

“Oh yeah, but I prefer beer. Oh, and whiskey.”

“So we know our next drink…”

You hid behind the glass and he smirked, “Good idea. I'll make my specialty cocktail. Only close friends know about it, so know you'll taste something exclusive.”

“Really? I’m flattered; who knew I’d get to know the CEO so well.”

The corner of your mouth raised with mischief as you emptied your glass, and instantly, he was refilling it with a slightly raised eyebrow, “You can call me Jungkook.”

His dark eyes, as he instructed you, released a current down your spine that spread warmth in every direction. There was no way that calling your boss by his first name was a good idea, but you had stopped playing it safe a few glasses ago.

“Is there more to learn about you, Jungkook?” His name on your tongue drew his eyes to your mouth, conveniently about to take another sip. You reveled in the sweetness and tension of that moment, hopefully as much as him. “Something no one else knows.”

His teeth bit into his lower lip to stop a grin, and he nodded, “Certainly.” He placed the glass down on the coffee table and you swallowed. “There’s a lot to find out.”

He unfastened his cuff links, casually folding and pulling the sleeves of his black button shirt to his elbow, and you gasped.

You leaned forward with your free hand, “You have a sleeve?”

He grinned slyly, extending his right arm for you to touch more easily, “I do.”

He was quiet while you explored every tattoo line, from the clock to the letters, stopping to wonder at the tiger lily in bright tones of orange. “Incredible,” you muttered, dragging your finger easily. You were so focused that you missed the goosebumps forming under your touch. He let you turn his arm and even pull the sleeve a bit further up, where you noticed more lines and figures ready to show. You were so insistent you pouted when the fabric got so tight around his bicep it refused to rake further up to his shoulder.

His chuckle drew your attention, “I can take it off if you’d like to see the rest.”

Your hands withdrew instantly, fingers rubbing on each other needily. Your eyes caught the absence of any other article of clothing underneath his shirt, and you swallowed down your heated longing. “No, I— Of course not.”

You didn’t bother saying it was inappropriate; you fell back on your side of the couch. Your throat seemed to have blocked, so you cleared it. There was a line you shouldn’t cross, but you also didn’t want to stop whatever you two were doing.

“I don’t have tattoos,” you started, pulling your blouse sleeve. “But I do have this birthmark.”

His eyes followed your fingers, then he grabbed your arm delicately to trace it with his fingers. Your forearm erupted in goosebumps, electrified by his caress, attention, and warmth. It was almost overwhelming, and you had to swallow thickly to keep silent.

“It looks like a butterfly,” he mused, concentrating, and you nodded.

“My mother calls me that.”

He whispered something under his breath, then shifted in his seat, “Look.”

He brought his forearm next to yours, and you realized what he meant: your birthmark was parallel to his tiger lily. Superposed, your butterfly would find its home in him. It made you shudder from head to toe.

“What ties you to Busan?” His question broke the spell despite his caresses to your arm. You frowned, trying to catch his line of thought. “Friends? Family?”

The Lambrusco swirled a little inside his glass, revealing a short tremble, and your eyes stayed low on his lily, “My mother, mostly. She doesn’t live in Busan, but in a village not too far away.”

Your apprehension was palpable, so you weren’t surprised when he brushed the back of his fingers in a feather-like touch on your forearm, “I understand if it’s too personal, you don’t have to tell me anything that will make you uncomfortable.”

Whether because of his soft touch or warm eyes, you instantly shook your head, “Not uncomfortable, just… I don’t really talk about her. Or my family. She doesn’t like it and—”

Your brow furrowed, and he was ready to reassure you, but you decided to say it.

“And nobody would understand, but maybe you would,” you pushed out, looking into his eyes. Your mom would chastise you for this decision, but it was yours nonetheless. You just felt so alone in all this. “Our family made sacrifices to be eradicated from the registry, and for generations, we’ve been hiding so we wouldn’t be detected.”

He nodded gravely, lowering his eyes to his fingers still touching your milky skin.

“You’re probably the last person I should tell this to,” you chuckled. “But even though times should be different, I was never certain where to draw the line between potential paranoia and it just being like she described. Unfortunately, recent events have made me conclude she was not wrong in wanting us to be cautious.”

“Wait, there’s—” He pressed his lips before he sorted his words, looking at you intently, “There’s something to be said about your mother’s fears and the outdated methods the Family uses to search for omegas. They should know it’s criminal, but it’s how my grandfather found my grandmother, so I suppose that’s why they insist on it.”

“He kidnapped her too?”

“No—” He almost choked. “Hunters found her and brought her to him. They were mates and inseparable.”

“You met her?”

Your tone was almost anxious, and he smiled with a nod, “The only omega I’ve ever met other than you.” His expression showed fondness, “Grandpa was crazy about her and everyone loved her. She had this… aura to her. I was instantly calm. I was… a bit of a reckless and loud kid, but she never got angry at me. She would just put me on her lap and ask me what happened, and soon after, she was tickling me while I told her all about my adventures.”

You leaned on your side into the couch back, “Adventures, huh?”

It wasn’t hard to imagine, especially when he smirked mischievously, “My knees wouldn't have gotten bruised if I hadn't chased a pirate up a tree.”

“A pirate?”

Your eyebrows jumped, and you both laughed quietly. You were glad to be at ease, folding a leg under you.

“What an exciting childhood you had.”

“What about yours?”

You pursed your lips, “It was just me and my mother. My dad died in a car accident when I was a kid, and my grandma had dementia and died not too long after.”

His eyes softened, “That must have been hard.”

“It was the most on my mom.”

“How old were you?”

“Thirteen.”

“It must have affected you,�� his voice quieted, and you noticed his thumb never stopped brushing your pulse point, soothing you for a while now.

“I grew up fast,” you shrugged, casually letting his touch continue. “It was hard because my mother was paranoid about us being caught, but I was raised around humans, unsure if her stories were true and if I should really just… stay hidden in that village or do something with myself.” He nodded, and you admitted, “That’s why hearing from others that my fate isn’t to be used as a tool, abused, or anything like that is…”

“No,” he pressed his thumb to your wrist, and it seemed to you it was to placate his own anxiety this time. “I promise you, that is not— I would never do that.”

His voice was firm, but something in your eyes must have given you away. You didn’t want to believe he was lying, but it wasn’t in his best interest to tell you the truth.

“My grandma always said a mate’s love was the foundation of our family and that I shouldn’t give up, even if my father never found her.” His eyes lowered once more to your arm before he faced you, “I grew up with them, seeing what a mate’s bond looks like. I would never hurt an omega, even if she wasn’t my mate.”

“But there are those who would.”

“Maybe once upon a time, but I swear things are different now. It was their mistreatment that led to their extinction. Well, alleged,” he corrected, eying you meaningfully. “The Families had to turn to betas, which was seen mostly as a catastrophe a couple of generations back.”

“Why?”

“It affected the strength of their blood, lines started dying and alpha numbers dwindled too. The egoistical views and attitudes of a few generations almost cost us everything.”

“So shouldn’t the way omegas were treated be the real catastrophe?”

Your tone was rough around the edges, but his eyes remained soft, “Worse than a catastrophe, an atrocity. It hurt so many for so many generations.”

His tone was apologetic as he looked at you, but it didn’t soothe you. Not even his touch on your wrist did. “If you recognize the problem, then you should be the first one to set an example. You acknowledge it was an atrocity, but you still send hunters to kidnap omegas instead of searching for yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

He actually looked lost, so you clarified, “If you don’t want to give up like your grandmother suggested, then maybe you should go down to Busan and search for yourself. Meet people.”

His eyebrows jumped, then he shook his head with an embarrassed smile, “I… never considered it.”

“Imagine if you had.”

Your chest warmed with his gaze on yours. You didn’t know why you were admonishing him for not visiting sooner, borderline implying you would have met differently, just like his grandmother had hoped. The past couldn’t be changed, and nothing would happen regardless.

You cleared your throat, “Anyway, it's annoying that your secretary keeps calling me fake.”

He huffed, letting his head fall on the back of the couch as though it tired him too.

“I never wanted to be recognized or seen as just my designation, but it is who I am, so she's pissing me off.”

You sneered at the ridiculousness of the situation, and he nodded, “It's because she never met anyone like you… I don't think she's able to really smell it. She's not as sensitive as us. But you don't have to worry about her. I'll handle things with her.”

You took the glass to your mouth, musing over it quietly. “Well, she works for you… and I won't stay long anyway.”

He was drinking when you spoke, his jaw becoming the slightest bit sharper under the light. His thumb still rubbed your pulse point soothingly.

“Actually… I have a question if you don’t mind.”

You pressed your lips sheepishly, and he almost choked in his hurry to nod.

“What do I smell like?” Your eyebrows framed your curious, big eyes, and his lips parted in wonder. “I've asked my mom, but she only tells me I'm sweet. I've never met anyone else I could ask.”

He blinked away his shock, straightening instantly to lean in a bit closer to you. Not that he needed to; effectively, he could pinpoint every trace and note of your unique aroma. But when you let your head fall back the slightest to expose your neck, he couldn’t be stopped. It was the sweetest invitation, baring your neck to him so he could take you in up close and personal.

He almost growled, something so deep inside him stirring he had to grip the glass and keep himself from grabbing your wrist or pressing his face into the crook of your neck. He was certain you’d taste and feel as endlessly delicate as your scent, but he knew the limits. Even if he thought of you as his, it had to come from you. If anything came out of getting to know you, it was that waiting was the only option he had if he ever wanted to welcome his mate by his side.

So he groaned silently and pulled back; he might not have met you in the right circumstances, but he wasn’t about to fuck this up.

“She’s right, you smell sweet,” he rasped, looking into your beautiful eyes again, so close he could see the black dots hiding among the lights. “Like jasmines — sweet, deep, and fond. And me?” He saw you swallow, but he couldn’t resist, “What do I smell like?”

“I’m sure you know,” you tried, though you didn’t move.

He shook his head, “What do I smell like to you?”

You looked down at his neck with a hint of uneasiness, but his soothing touch calmed you enough to go forward. You leaned into the crook of his neck, so close you felt his body warmth emanating. One deep breath, though, and you almost whimpered. Your free hand gripped his arm as your whole body warmed and thrummed with the heady scent.

“Strong,” you whispered, noticing a moment later his neck was covered in goosebumps. “Earthy.” You couldn’t resist nuzzling his skin the slightest, raising it up his neck until you met his jaw. “Spicy, something so alluring I just…”

You nuzzled his cheek and he turned to face you, with lips so close to yours, his warm breath lulled your eyes closed. You were certain his lips would touch yours, releasing all that tension into a burst that would raze your senses.

But the sounds of a keypad being pressed made you instinctively pull back, and you were happy you did because in mere seconds it was as though the rug was being pulled from under your feet.

The front door burst open, and you jumped to your feet, frightened. Jungkook stood up, too, trying to regain the touch that had been severed in the motion, but it was too late. You both had to face the woman storming inside the apartment, with eyes so wide, and nostrils so wide in fury, it confused you more than anything.

“What the hell?!”

Sunhwa’s outrage wasn’t missed on you, but all you could do was frown, stupefied.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook’s tone was cold, and you weren’t certain if that was the right reaction. Shouldn’t he be pissed that his secretary just stormed into his apartment late at night?

“What am I doing? What are you doing?!”

His eyes hardened as though her question didn’t merit a reply, and she threw the folders in her hand on the coffee table.

“I wanted to update you on the ASICS deal and thought you probably wouldn’t have eaten yet, so I called Chef Jae, and they told me they had prepared the special dinner you asked for!”

You glanced at him, even more confused than before, and his reply came quiet, “You should know better than to just barge in here.”

“You weren’t picking up the phone!”

Her screeches were starting to give you a headache, “Alright, listen. It’s past eleven in the evening, surely there’s nothing that can justify causing a scene like this.”

Her laugh was a shriek, “You have some gall to tell me I can’t cause a scene, huh?! First, you try to seduce him by falsely claiming to be an omega—”

“I am!”

“— and now you’ve invited yourself into his apartment! Do you really have no shame? I won’t stand for this!”

Your eyebrows jumped in pure disbelief, “And who are you to care what an adult man does in his apartment?”

She stomped her foot, fuming as she glared, “I’m his fiancé!”

Your stomach dropped, spreading such coldness through your guts, you froze.

In years of law, despite dealing with senseless clients at times, you had never lost your composure or words, but today was the day. Her words, that scene, and the deceit underlying that whole night gutted you, so you were speechless.

“You don't know what you're saying.”

His tone was firm, but one glance told you he was seething. Your first instinct was to resent him; he should be apologizing, not angry that his fiancé ruined the ruse.

Sunhwa crossed her arms with a laugh, “Oh, so I'm suddenly not?”

“We have a contract.”

“Precisely!”

Her clapback was triumphant, and you stiffened even further.

“This is not what you think,” he said, having turned to you.

You looked at him slowly, but Sunhwa was already stepping closer between you, “This is exactly what you think! He's promised to me! How dare you come in here and try to seduce him with your false claims and—!”

“Enough!”

His roar effectively silenced her, making even the glass in your hand reverberate. It forced you to look away and realize you had no business standing there.

You put the glass on the coffee table, “I see you have things to discuss, so I'll leave you to it.”

You ignored the smothering silence surrounding you and headed up the stairs.

That silence was dearly missed when the last concrete thing you heard was Sunhwa freaking out, “She's sleeping here?!”

You closed the bedroom door and weighed your options, but then ended up locking the door and hiding with your face into your pillow. You had drunk too much, and it was too late to wander off in the middle of Seoul. For now, you’d just have to stay.

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ldysmfrst · 2 months ago

Text

American Mate (14) - Does it Always End in Ruin?

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 14 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 10,980

Work count for Story: 107,440

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work because I almost died in August of 2024.

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This chapter does have pack dynamics, Alphas fronting, a scenting session with hints of a panic attack, comfort, possessiveness, angst, and mentions of giving aphrodisiac-laced chocolates to Jungkook without his knowledge. There are also nightmares containing mentions of past trauma, violence, abuse, and threats of death.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

You can scent me in the car.

You… can… scent… me… in… the… car…

It’s not like he is gonna do anything untoward– right?

Your body flushes with thoughts of the many ways the scenting session could go “wrong,” like pinning you in the corner against the door and backseat, ravishing your neck in a way that ensures you have a mark that anyone can see.

Following the hyper-focused Prime Alpha of Bangtan Pack to allow him to scent you in a car like you both were some horny teenagers with no control makes the walk through the Gala a blur.

With how firmly Namjoon holds your hand and guides you with determination, you aren’t the only one feeling it, right?

But what would the rest of the pack think?

Your mind was going from things that were not safe for work while simultaneously trying to throw on the breaks.

You were too much in your head battling away the thoughts you shouldn’t be having for a mated man, much less a mated man at a public event with other hybrids that you were 100000000% could smell just what you were thinking of.

MATED MAN!

Your mind is yelling at you, coming through like a spotty radio, while your body is thrumming with the charged atmosphere that now encapsulates the two of you.

You could be making this up and reading into things too much. You did that in high school, which is why you started shying away from skinship. Who wouldn’t after getting humiliated day in and day out about being an attention-seeking fat whore in the cafeteria with no help from the staff?

Whatever, back to the issue at hand. He has mates waiting for him to come home. You should excuse yourself to the bathroom and call one of them.

Jin would be a good phone call, and he is the oldest.

Then there is Yoongi, who is almost powerful enough to be the Prime himself.

Taehyung is supposed to be helping right now; maybe he… he can… Agh! What teleport to the Gala and leave with Namjoon instead of you?

No, you already let Jimin’s Alpha scent you at your packhouse. Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook intentionally scented you, with permission, in your current bedroom, which means Namjoon should be able to scent you in a car.

They all have said they want skinship, and you said you would be willing to try. Now get it together, woman!

Besides, you told Hoseok that everyone deserves a second chance. This is Namjoon’s second chance. You have never turned away someone in need before, and clearly, whatever Lee Min Ho did triggered Alpha Joon to come out, and he needs the scenting session to calm down.

You were their Playmate, which meant supporting the emotional needs of your assigned hybrid(s) was also part of your job.

The next thing you feel is Namjoon letting go of your hand, which brings you out of your internal argument as he drapes your cape over your shoulders. You watch him as he secures the closure and fusses with it to make sure it is lying correctly.

You are searching for anything to tell you exactly where he is with any of this. You notice the rigid set of his jaw, which hasn’t relaxed since you saw him at the start of the dance with Min Ho. His breaths are almost a perfect count of seven in and seven out, which means he is doing that for a reason.

When he looks at you again, those forest green eyes are dark and piercing. It’s like time freezes; unlike his even breaths, yours seems to be caught. You can see so many emotions moving behind those eyes, but they are flashing so fast, and you don’t know him well enough to tell what they are before they are gone.

“Prime Alpha, sir, ma’am, your car is here,” says Jen. Startling you like she came out of thin air. Smiling at Jen and moving towards the car, you hear Namjoon speak with her in hushed tones.

Now that you can breathe again, you take some cleansing breaths before you climb into the car and buckle up. Scenting is simple. It doesn’t have to be extravagant.

You are in a car, for god’s sake.

As you smooth out your skirt, Namjoon gets in on the other side of the car. Careful not to touch you, he turns to face you, his calculating eyes searching your form. You can hear Jen get in the front, but the partition is up.

Licking your lips out of nerves, you hear a low growl next to you. Suddenly, the world outside the car looks fantastic as the car starts the drive back.

“Y/n.”

Hearing your name said in Alpha Joon’s deepened voice causes your heart to flutter and your eyes to close. You said scenting was okay, and YOU offered to do it in the car. You weren’t raised to go back on your word, nor have you ever left someone in need.

Since Namjoon is a temporary pack for you, you couldn’t deny a packmate a scenting session. It must be the Luna part of you that wouldn’t let you.

“Alpha,” you breathe out, finally looking at him.

The stillness in his body and the focus of his attention is something that only a predator hybrid like him can have. It almost pains you to see him so closed off and far away.

“Bergamot and sugar waves,” he says with a slight tilting of his head. “You want scenting but scared of me.”

At his words, you realize just what you have had to have been putting him through while walking from the dance floor til now. Your scent must have been a swirling chaos.

“Not exactly, Alpha,” you vaguely answer the nonexisting question. “I am not scared of you.”

While his shoulders drop as his tense leaves his body, his eyes narrow in further contemplation. “What of?”

“None of it is something you have to worry about, Alpha,” you smile, trying to convey that you are physically fine even if your scent says otherwise.

“Mine,” Alpha Joon says, closing his eyes, tilting his head back and swallowing. “Worry for mine is my job. Now, what of?”

Mine. Mine. He keeps calling you “mine,” which sends a shiver down your spine every time he says it. You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You want to not fall into the delusion that you are his, but you want to not argue with someone as powerful as a Prime Alpha.

“I don’t know how to give you what you need,” you answer his question in the most roundabout but truthful way possible. Your answer seems to bring his attention back to you, but it is laced with confusion this time.

“Jungkook scents with his chin, Yoongi scents with his cheeks, but Jin and Jimin seem to do it with touching. I don’t know what you need.”

Realization dawns on his face. You can practically see the times the two of you have been near each other flash in his mind’s eye before his face falls into a pout.

You can’t help but giggle at his pouty face, which draws his attention to you again, and he pouts harder.

“I am sorry, Alpha,” you say, then clear your throat. “I, ah, thought that there might be a certain way a Prime Alpha or a wolf may need to scent. I am still wrapping my head around all the different ways. As a Luna, I was typically the one scenting the others.”

“Wolf scenting wrist and licks,” Alpha Joon says, looking down at his own wrists.

“Oh! Jin licked me!” you exclaim. “Well, he licked then bit me,” you continued, looking at the inside of your wrist to see if there was a mark.

Rubbing over the area where Seokjin licked fills the air with more of your scent. The bergamot is still present but lessened, alerting Alpha Joon that you are starting to relax into the present.

Moving slowly, telegraphing his goal, Alpha Joon takes hold of the hand you were inspecting. He rubs your wrists together with his free hand, causing his leather and vanilla to join in the mix.

He can tell when his scent hits you because your whole body loses its tension. The hand he is holding becomes weightier in his grip. A soft smile plays on his lips with pride that you are not rejecting his skinship, scent, or bond.

“Wolves satisfied with this. Alphas need more. It’s our nature.”

“Alphas? Or Prime Alphas?” You swallow before also asking, “More how?”

His eyes trail up your arm, and it feels like fire is licking your skin. They still at the juncture of your neck and shoulder before continuing, pausing along your jaw, then settling their journey when they lock with yours.

“Alphas prefer other areas. Only ours allow intimate,” says Alpha Joon.

Heat flashes through your body and pools low in your abdomen with the memory of Alpha Kook and his ministrations to your neck.

Breaking eye contact, you blush as you say, “I see. It makes sense.”

“Prime Alpha, more demanding. Add threat of taking mine,” Alpha Joon growls out.

Your eyes snap back to him with a furrowed brow as you question, “Taken from you? No one in their right mind would do that right now, would they?”

“Bobat try tonight.”

Oh. OH, that is right. This whole scenting thing was because Lee Min Ho danced with you. You mentally smack your forehead against a wall.

“Min Ho, he would not actually do anything. He was just being a good sport and dancing with me,” you try to brush off his concern.

“No,” he says sternly. “Friends with Tae-ah. Must be nice. Bobcat natural wolf enemy.”

This information, combined with the newly understood gravity of the game Lee Min Ho was playing with Namjoon while using you as the pawn, changes everything.

Your scent changes from the bergamot of fear to the mint of anger, distinguished by the look on your face and the clench of your jaw.

“Mad now?” Alpha Joon says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. The change in your demeanor shows him that you, at best, want to be his and, at least, don't want others to play around like that.

“Yes, I am mad now. How can someone do that to you?” you say with an attitude-driven shake of your head.

Your response wasn’t what he was expecting. He wasn’t quite sure how to take it. He wanted to be proud because his newest mate was looking out for him, but she wasn’t necessarily looking out for herself.

“Wonder what Taehyung will think of his friend’s actions. I don’t think he will like them, but that is to be dealt with later,” you say with resolve.

Looking back at the man beside you, the resolve shows as your scent changes, yet again, with a hint of lemon: “What do you need to fix what he has done?”

“Cover.”

“Cover? I thought you said he didn’t leave anything?” you press, leaning forward, trying to figure out what he needs to feel like his personal world is safe again. “Tell me, Alpha. What exactly will you cover?”

The direct question of a dominant feeling mate has Alpha Joon squirming a little.

He wants to put you in your place as Prime Alpha, show you, and not tell you what he needs. He also wants to kneel at your feet and let you lean into your Luna so that he can let go of the tension he is holding because he trusts you to care for him.

The dominant leader versus the submissive lover. Maybe he can be both?

“Cover his touch,” Alpha Joon clarifies. A flash of shock or fear or nerves flash across your face as he continues, “I saw some, not all.”

“Oh, I see.” Thinking of all the places the sneaky bobcat touched, your hand pulls out of Alph Joon’s as you say, “That is going to be hard to do in a car. That and you don’t know how to tango, Alpha.”

Quickly, Alpha Joon shakes his head, “No dancing. Only scenting touch.” He looks around the back of the car, thinking of how to put what he has to say.

“Dress scented at Gala,” he says with a slight hilt to his voice. You nod, trying to follow along with him.

His eyes flick between your neck and thigh, “Now skin scent happen.”

It’s like you get doused with water and lit on fire simultaneously. Touching like one does in the Tango feels astronomically different when the same touch is done while not dancing.

There is no way that you will not vibrate out of your own skin and panic if Alpha Joon continues to look at you like prey while touching you in all the places Lee Min Ho did.

You will lose yourself and not in a good way.

What did your therapist Ryan say to do when this happens? What would Derek and Evie say to do?

Control it.

Take the reins and drive the motions.

Find ways to grant permission for the next step, next touch, and next level of scenting, but will a Prime Alpha accept that?

Can you control a Prime Alpha?

“Overthinking,” Alpha Joon interrupts your thoughts.

“Sorry, Alpha.”

Taking a breath, you calm your thoughts and focus on the you who can be in charge of hybrids. The you that allows your family pack to feel safe and cared for. The you that loves hybrids more than most humans.

“Luna,” Alpha Joon states when your sweet pea, bergamot, and vanilla scent starts to weave in the car with a tang of lemon.

“Yes, you may call me that. I won’t go back on my word. I will allow you, Alpha Joon, to calm yourself and settle your instincts by scenting my skin,” you inform him.

Smiling, the Alpha makes to pull you to him. However, you stop him with a single click of your tongue. Unbuckling yourself, you unclasp your cape and angle your body toward him.

“Do we have an understanding, Alpha Joon? If not, you will have to wait until the pack can help settle you.”

Shaking his head almost violently, his eyes widen in panic at the thought of you not being the one to settle him. Rubbing his palms on his pants, he looks away from your eyes and turns slightly to show his neck.

He is submitting to you. It's not a complete submission. Still, it’s a step that makes you feel safe and allows you to be bold enough to keep going.

Taking his hands in yours, you squeeze them in reassurance.

Shifting to the middle seat, the split in your dress widens. Flashing skin from your mid-thigh down, which draws his attention. It’s the same leg, the thigh and knee, where the bobcat held you in the dip as he trailed his nose along your skin at the neck.

“Eyes on me, Alpha,” you command, snapping his attention back to your face.

“Min Ho held me in a classic hold, starting with a hand on my upper back while cradling my braced hand in his,” you inform as you slide your hand up his arm to his shoulder. “You may hold me that way as well.”

You had thought the Alpha would jump with permission to touch you. This is where you were mistaken. You may be calling the shots, but he was and is a Prime Alpha.

Changing his grip on your braced wrist, he brings it up like he remembered from watching you. Slowly, his other hand reaches your side and slides around your waist to trail up your spine, then rests between your shoulder blades. The movement brings your body closer to him.

You wait.

Nothing happens.

You smile gently. “Good Alpha, you are following directions,” you praise him before you lean forward, entering his personal space even more.

“Classic Tango steps don’t have as much body contact as one would think. It’s all about flashy steps with kicks and flicks. But Lee Min Ho told me he was putting on a show, and that changes things.”

Alpha Joon's voice is confused as he tries to hold you just as instructed, but you keep coming closer. Your scent is invading. Mixing his scent with yours settles something profound within Alpha Joon’s soul.

The words ‘keep in control’ repeat in your mind, almost creating their own tune as you try to maneuver yourself into the next hold used by the bobcat. As you lean in, you run your arm back down Alpha Joon’s and push it against the seat's backrest.

“Don’t move,” you instruct him.

“Yes, Luna,” he agrees, hinting a slight rumble. You pause momentarily, waiting to see if that rumble becomes something more. You continue when nothing happens, and his eyes remain on your face.

Shifting to an angle facing you away from a whimper sounds but is cut off quickly. Glancing back up at the Alpha, his cheeks are dusted pink. It seems the Prime Alpha shocked himself with that sound.

Now, you are sitting with your back to his front but not touching.

You clasp his free hand in yours and lock your fingers with his. Your braced hand grabs the wrist against the seat and guides it to your stomach.

Thank heavens that he cannot see your face now.

Maintaining your posture is one thing, but not reacting to the heat emanating from him while his hand softly glides into place over your dress is not something you can control.

It feels nerve-racking, but in the best of ways. Wait…what is going on with you? You shouldn’t be reacting like this. He is mated. You didn’t act like this with Jin, did you?

You know what it is… it’s because of this morning. That’s right, with the shirtlessness, the feeding, the nesting room, all the suits… it’s that.

There is nothing wrong with you.

Nada.

You just happen to be stuck in a packhouse with wildly attractive hybrid younger men who know they can make almost every woman, even some men, creme their jeans with a savvy smile.

They are just flirty, like Derek and Lily.

That’s all.

“Wrong,” a deep voice comes close to your ear as you are pulled backward, making your body fall against the wolf behind you and stealing your breath. “Hold like this, he did.”

“Yes, that is correct, Alpha Joon,” you agree with your eyes closed. His firm chest against your back has a warmth that is encompassing you.

Your control of the situation is slipping; maybe you never had control in the first place.

“Next touch, Luna?” he asks with his breath brushing your skin.

Right next touch… next touch… what was next. Oh. Your eyes open and dart to your knee. Min Ho took you into a dip with his hand on your thigh near your knee.

Well, there are two ways to do this. Robotically and cold or intimately and warm. Again, it’s about keeping control.

“I don’t know, Alpha. Can you be good and follow directions, or will you move Luna as you wish, like you just did?” you question.

Almost immediately, Alpha Joon tries to retreat but has nowhere to go. You are still holding his wrist and interlacing your fingers. He has become trapped between you and the door.

“Ah, uhah! Words, Alpha Joon,” you chid softly.

“Sorry, Luna. No more. I will follow.”

“Good, now only touch where I guide you, got it?”

“Yes, Luna.”

Leaning against him more, you bring your knee up through the slit in the dress. Breathe in and out, staying in control. Covering the hand on your stomach with your braced hand, you tap it twice and move back towards your waist.

You smile when his hand moves to stay under yours.

Once at your waist, you slide both of your hands down to your hip and over the top of your thigh– slowly. Basking in the warmth of his hand over the dress felt terrific, but you practically melted when the heat of his hand graced your bare skin.

Your body automatically responds in a blanket of goosebumps and a pool of dampness between your legs. It’s tantalizing and something you haven’t felt in years.

Behind you, a soft, almost growling purr kicks up in Alpha Joon’s chest at being able to feel you without a barrier.

You continue to guide his hand to the bend of your knee, and as firmly as you can, you say, “Min Ho sent me into a dip and secured me by holding my thigh near my knee.”

In a gravel-filled voice, Alpha Joon says, “I saw. May I?”

“Yes.”

Keeping the pace you had set, Alpha Joon’s hand slides out from under yours, farther down your leg and to the outer side. His fingers are splayed out as they clasp under your thigh at the back of your knee and squeeze.

You, luckily, were able to control your body from jerking at the electric zing of arousal that courses through your system like his is cupping and squeezing something much more private.

However, luckily for the hybrid behind you, your scent flashed into a heady mix of sugar, sweet peas, and vanilla.

If Alpha Joon hadn’t already been affected by the scenting up to this point, he was now, which was making his pants very uncomfortable. His mind reeling with thoughts of what you would smell like on a night of passion.

Buzz Buzz

A huff leaves the Alpha as he answers the intercom from Jen, “Yes, Jen?”

“Sorry to interrupt, Prime Alpha, but we have been sitting at the packhouse for a few minutes,” she says timidly. Clearing her throat, she said, “I don’t know if you wanted the others to know you are here, however, someone keeps peeking out one of the windows.”

“Thank you, Jen. We will head inside now,” Alpha Joon informs her, releasing his hold on your leg and letting go of your hand. A blush comes over you as you realize just how into the moment the two of you had become.

Alpha Joon exits the car as you return to your original side and put on the cape again. As you are reaching for the door, it opens. You smile at the gentlemanly act Alpha Joon is showing you.

Getting out of the car, you accept his hand to help you keep steady. Smiling, you turn to thank him, “Oh. Namjoon, Thank you. I take it Alpha Joon was satisfied with the scent and stopped fronting?”

Pulling you softly and guiding your hand to lock around his arm, he leads you towards the pack house. Shaking his head, he says, “Not exactly. We are in our territory now, and no one can take you from us here.”

“Ah, I see. I am sorry the scenting wasn’t enough. I promise I will learn more to improve,” you rapidly reply, your heart sinking at the thought that you failed to comfort the Prime Alpha.

He stops at the front door, your words halting him. “You misunderstand, Angel. You were scenting and allowed our scenting just fine. However, due to arriving at the packhouse already, we could not complete the covering, and he, well we, didn’t think you would be comfortable enough to continue.”

“Couldn’t complete?” you question as you try to replay the dance. Your eyes widen when it hits you: “My neck. Wait, why would I not be comfortable after the whole car ride?”

“The packhouse is where it went downhill, and I could have lost you. I could have lost you for the pack. I don’t deserve your attention here, Luna,” answers Namjoon.

Not once has he looked at you during his explanation.

He is avoiding being himself because of that one misstep. You still haven’t forgiven him, but you aren’t mean-hearted. It may take a while for you to be comfortable with him regarding unannounced scenting sessions or the random hugs that some of the others do, but right now, it is planned.

“I umm… I know you are one and the same, so he is always there, and I don’t know if this is possible, but can I talk to Alpha Joon, please?” you ask tentatively, trying to regain his attention.

He finally looks at you, his eyes curious and cautious. Slowly, they bleed from the outside in with the forest green of Namjoon’s hybrid side.

“Hello again, Alpha Joon. Your presence has been frequent tonight, and I am glad you fronted at my request. Thank you, Alpha,” you begin, trying to convey that you are in a good mindset and not panicking or upset.

He simply nods. His curiosity and nervousness are evident in his face and body tension.

“I may not be happy with how my position was proposed, but I will not let that affect your ability to be who you are– the Prime Alpha Wolf-Hybrid of Bangtan Pack.”

He shakes his head, starting to deny any further action is required when you step closer. You tilt your head to the side and back, barring the area that Lee Min Ho had traced.

You watch his attention drop to your neck from the corner of your eye, and a sneer flashes on his face before he closes his eyes to collect himself.

You will for whatever calming, reassuring scent you have to push out, not that you even know what you are doing. Softly asking, “Please finish, Prime Alpha.”

Unknown to you, your scent follows your wishes as the vanilla of the mate bond blooms with your sweet pea. It washes over the Prime Alpha as your bond solidifies more. His vanilla and leather respond in kind and blanket you.

For a moment, you both bask in the scents surrounding you. The natural reaction of being near one’s fated mate unfurls.

Driving on almost pure instinct, Alpha Joon closes the gap. His warm, large hands grip your waist and hold you in place. His eyes are sharply watching each and every microexpression on your profile.

The second you became connected, it was like your brain went offline.

Your arms find their place around his shoulders, sinking your good hand into the locks of silky hair at the base of his neck. Your body tingles at the feel of your fronts pressed together, making every breath like a soft caress.

The soft puff of breath on your jawline causes you to pause. The first touch of his lips on your skin releases you from your hold. His soft, measured kisses trailing your jaw to the base of your ear feels like nothing you have felt before.

Somewhere in your mind, alarm bells go off because this feels like more than just a scenting session. The rest of you, the part with control now, is letting go and basking in the moment. It feels like so much, but not enough at the same time.

A gentle flick of his tongue on your earlobe triggers a shiver down your spine and a soft, almost inaudible but needy sound to escape you.

Whispering in your ear, Alpha Joon says, “I have you, Luna. Always will.”

Those simple words feel like a world of promises.

Adjusting his hold on you, one hand going to the back of your head to angle you into a deeper bend while the other is securing you around the waist, Alpha Joon continues his scenting of your neck.

His plush lips feel like feathers gliding along tantalizingly. Warm and playful kisses leave a trail of embers in tandem. Nothing lasts as every movement, marking, and pressure point is brief.

Your mind battles between wanting to stop before you go too far, angering his bonded mates, and needing something more but what you don’t know. You are in uncharted territory now. Scenting your family pack NEVER felt like this. Hell, making out with Eric never felt like this.

“Alpha,” you whine, not entirely sure you know what you are whining for.

THUD

Muffled scuffling is heard with pained noises and an “Ow, that was my tail!”

It’s like a bucket of ice gets poured over you, snapping your senses back into reality. The once comforting and secure hold you were relaxed into becomes a cage. The lingering feel of his kisses now burns like a hot branding iron. Within seconds, your skin pales, and your scent disappears.

Looking up at Alpha Joon, you see him glaring at the door. Taking advantage of his distraction, you push out of his hold. Stumbling back against the front door.

Even more scampering is heard, along with a few colorful words, as your unknown audience races to hide somewhere inside the pack house.

His glare softens as he looks at you; his jaw is still set, and his fists are clenched at his sides. As the seconds pass, it registers with the Alpha that you have closed off everything. Silently, he curses whoever was just behind the door.

“Y/n,” he says, stepping forward, unclenching his hands, and reaching for yours. His eyes blend back to their deep brown as he scrambles to find a way to fix this.

“Thank you for tonight, Alpha. It seems your mates are waiting for you,” you say.

Taking one last look at the man who stole your inhibitions and released the ardor you thought you had lost, you grab the door handle. Bowing, you feel your heart clench and your throat tighten as you whisper, “Good night, Namjoon.”

Before he can say anything or do anything, you are inside the packhouse and in your room. You close the door with a slam and fall against it.

For the first time in forever, you allow yourself to cry. No, not cry, but weep. Weep for what you don’t know. Was it getting caught with Namjoon? Was it for falling out of a position of control? Was it for the child you lost? Was it for every heartbreak you have experienced?

You don’t know how long you stay there on the floor in a crumbled gown, tacks of mascara dried on your cheeks, and numbness blanketing every inch.

The packhouse is silent. You know the pack must have heard you, but you don’t have enough left to acknowledge that right now.

With stiff limbs, you stand up and make your way to the bathroom. Taking off your heels along the way, leaving there wherever the land. Your earrings end up on the bathroom counter, at least.

Getting ready for bed, washing your face, and the rest of the routine are robotic. Walking back into the bedroom, you make to climb into your bed, but what you see stops you in your tracks.

There is a carefully made nest against the wall– Jimin.

He mentioned that he might make a nest for you to come home to. You sit on the edge of the mattress to observe the time and attention that went into making it. The center is filled with pillows of different sizes. The wall is covered with even more to protect you from its hardness. You note the intricate weaving of blankets around the edge in seven colors.

It’s a clear representation of their mate-bonded pack. It’s perfect, just like they are. Crawling in the middle of it will ruin it.

You already have ruined enough tonight.

Looking around the room, you decided to sleep in the sitting window. Curling into yourself, making yourself as small as you can, you cry again, but this time, the sobs are silent, and the tears are dry.

The Packhouse living room had been set up like a movie theater. After seeing your pictures in the group chat, they all wanted to watch you and Namjoon walk the carpet together. They had popcorn and sodas and cuddled together, waiting and watching.

Constant commentary flowed as they watched others on the carpet before the two of you were first spotted. The world seems to slow once they see you– their newest mate. You looked every bit the perfect mate they knew you were.

You were wise with your choice of words. You knew when to speak up or let Namjoon guide the conversation. Your smile and giggles made each one wish they were with you instead of their Prime Alpha.

It wasn’t left unnoticed how you seemed to charm everyone, gaining flirtatious comments from interviewers and even the occasional unwarranted extended hugs from other stars. How Namjoon kept his cool was beyond everyone else.

Maybe it was a good idea that he was the only one there.

Taehyung was already making a mental list of all the people to disregard in future interviews for disrespecting their claim on you. He wasn’t the only one. As a pack of Alphas, it was nearly impossible for them not to want to bite off anyone’s hand that touched you.

“She is doing really well,” comments Hoseok. He was worried the most because of your insecurities about being photographed. Having experienced self-image issues in the past, he knows how hard they are to deal with.

“I think her team was constructive with that aspect. They made getting ready for this event so much fun for her,” Yoongi says.

Jungkook nods in agreement, “They were talking about trying to find a way to make Bethany Ann’s team her permanent prep-team for events and such.”

“Really? She liked them that much?” asked Seokjin, grabbing his phone and texting Manager Sejin to demand this assignment happen ASAP if it hasn’t happened already.

“Yeah. How long do you think they will be there? Joonie-ah normally only stays long enough to let everyone know and then comes home,” Yoongi asks.

A chorus of replies came, all pointing out the same fact– no one had a clue.

This prompted Jimin to bolt out of Hoseok’s arm, yelling as he went, “Everyone get me a heavily scented blanket and whatever pillow you want Y/n to have in her nest!”

Confusion fell over most of the remaining pack. Taehyung and Jungkook were the only ones to get up as if they knew what was happening.

“Jinnie-hyung, can you grab the stuff in the dryer?” asked the youngest mate.

“Sure, as soon as you tell me what Jimin is doing with Y/n’s nest,” responded Seokjin, as everyone stopped moving to listen.

Looking around, Jungkook could see that the hyung line was all clueless. “Oh, Y/n was breaking down her nest at 7 am this morning and wanted to return our items because it didn’t feel right anymore.”

Yoongi moved forward, asking, “What do you mean return them? She doesn’t want our scents?”

“Nooo, that isn’t it. She… her mom wouldn’t let her keep up her ‘blanket fort,’ and so she was tearing it down at 7 am. Tae-hyung and Jimin-hyung, we all talked to her about it. Turns out, she was giving it back because she thought they needed to be cleaned and didn’t smell right.”

“But what is Jimin doing?” prompts Seokjin, still looking for the answer to his question.

Bouncing on his feet, Junngkook says, “She said Jimin could build her a proper nest to come home to because she might be too worn out to make it herself.”

A mixture of shock and giddiness spread across the rooms, followed by chaos. Everyone was practically running upstairs to find and scent the perfect blanket. Seokjin got the drying and called everyone to get what was theirs.

Meanwhile, Jimin took the regular bedding down to your den and started getting to work. It was typical for Jimin to take the lead on making the nests for the pack, but what wasn’t expected was for Jimin to restrict anyone from helping. Anytime one of his mates came near the bed, Jimin would growl.

“Jimin-hyung, I was the one who figured it out in the first place. I can be here and help,” whined Jungkook.

Everyone knew that logically. Jungkook had heard your restless night and fixed it with little help. By all means, Jungkook was now responsible for ensuring your sleeping needs were being met.

With a growl, Jimin refused to let him come any closer. By now, Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok had all gathered to watch the exchange. Curiosity peaked at the unusual behavior of their normally docile tiny mate.

“Jimin-ah, Kookie is right. His Alpha has taken this responsibility, and you really shouldn’t deny it,” Yoongi says, trying to inject some logic into this situation.

The increased intensity of Jimin’s growl was unexpected. Not only was growling difficult for a Red Panda hybrid to make, but it was also typically saved for dangerous situations.

The room fell silent, aside from Jimin, and the Alphas stepped back. None of them wanted to challenge Jimin regarding his drive to make a nest for their new mate, but his actions were not welcomed or appropriate as far as the rest were concerned.

After a stalemate of what to do, a bouncing Taehyung joined them. “Hey, are we gonna keep… What’s going on here?” asked the tiger as he took in the tenseness of the room. It is clear to him that it’s everyone against Jimin right now, but why?

“Hyung won’t let me help get Y/n’s bed ready when she comes home to sleep. It’s my area to care for,” whines Jungkook, his ears now out and drooping low with sadness.

Walking into the room further, Jimin’s growl lessens as his attention is now on the tiger, but it still hasn’t completely gone away. Raising his eyebrow at Jimin, Taehyung sees that the nest isn’t complete, and Jungkook still holds his scented blanket.

“I think you guys are getting it wrong,” comments Taehyung, turning his back to Jimin and pulling everyone else’s attention. “Hoseok-hyung, you were there when Y/n agreed to build a nest for her. What did you offer?”

Scrunching his brow, Hoseok answers, “I said we could replace what she needed, and Jimin could build her a nest.”

Taehyung waits to see if they catch on, but when seconds go by, and no one connects the dots, he says, “You offered her a nest built by Jimin. Only Jimin. She said she would love to come home to a nest built by Jimin.”

“It’s a charge,” says Seokjin with understanding. “Jimin is charged with making a nest for Y/n before she gets home. Jungkook, give Jimin the blanket, and then we all need to leave.”

Thumping his foot in protest, the bunny hybrid whines, “Buuut Hyung…”

“No. This isn’t about sleeping. It’s about a nest. Jimin has always been responsible when it comes to the pack’s nest and that won’t stop now,” corrects Seokjin.

“Wait, Jungkook, look at the nest Jimin is building. Is there anything you or Jimin think it could need more to help provide a proper nest and comfort for sleeping?” offers Yoongi.

Jimin and Jungkook take in the nest as the youngest hands over his blanket, taking in the amount of blankets and pillows. Jimin starts to weave the new blanket into the rest around the edge.

“Namjoon’s scent is not as strong as the rest of ours,” says Jungkook. Looking at Jimin, he waits for his thoughts on the comment to which Jimin starts counting. After double-checking that he is only counting six blankets, Jimin nods at Jungkook.

“Will you be okay if I got you his blanket and maybe another pillow of his for the nest you are making for Y/n, Jimin-hyung?” tentatively asks the youngest Alpha.

Jimin makes a squeaking noise as he undoes the nest wall to make it better once the Prime Alpha’s blanket is brought down. Noticing that no one has moved, he jumps off the bed and pushes everyone out. His antics are met with laughing and teasing by the hyungs.

It takes Jungkook and Jimin almost two hours to complete the nest. Well, actually, it takes Jimin two hours to make it while Jungkook turns into his personal errand boy. Jungkook has been sent to have different mates at more scent to items or change it out for something different because it feels wrong.

All of the mates don’t complain or argue about the requests. They are grateful that their Jiminnie is slowly returning to himself, and their new mate is the only one to thank for this change.

It has gotten late, much to the pack's dislike. They wanted to see you in your gown in person, not on a screen and not from yards away. Namjoon had already promised them his date with you would end when you got home.

Seokjin, having already had a date with you, retired for the night. He had seen you in a dress, felt your skin against his, and basked in your body's heat. While he would love to experience those all again, he would be patient and wait his turn.

That patience was nowhere to be found in Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung. Each of them took turns checking the driveway for some indication you were almost here. When the car had pulled up, the three of them were practically glued to the window.

It wasn’t until Yoongi yelled at them to stop being creepy and wait for you to make it in the door that they stopped their window-watching. Chuckling at their actions, Yoongi and Jungkook left them to bombard you as they also turned in for the night.

However, when some time passed and you both were not in their presence, they grew restless again. Using their hybrid skills of being sneaky and light-footed, Hoseok and Taehyung make it to the door. Leaning against the door, they catch the conversation on the other side.

Doing their best to tamp down their scents and not interrupt, the two of them listen to the rustle of clothes, the sounds of increased breaking, soft and uncontrollable moans of desire, and the smell of an intimate scenting session.

They are giddy at their Prime Alpha's progress with the newest mate. Taehyung’s tail curled and uncurled on the floor in anticipation of being able to elicit the same reactions from you.

THUD

A sharp pain flies up Taehyung’s tail as he hisses, turning around to see that Jimin, in all clumsiness, has fallen off the hall bench and landed on Taehyung’s tail, crushing it with his knee.

Jimin freezes while Hoseok scrambles away from the door and hurdles upstairs, taking multiple steps at a time.

“Ow, that was my tail!” Tae screeches.

THUMB

The front door rattles.

“Shit. 빨리 가다,” bitingly says Tae, pulling Jimin along the way, who is whispering apologies the whole way. Meanwhile, Tae is cursing in every language he knows because he caught you turning off your scent.

Jimin was restless. He knew the boys had heard his mistake, not that he was the only one to blame, but he was still worried. He was worried that what happened ruined your night with Namjoon.

Namjoon scent could be smelled down the hall. It was a mix of anger, annoyance, lust, and despair. Your scent was nowhere to be found. Jimin had tried to find comfort with Hoseok, but he only said to wait till the morning to see what repairs were needed.

That wasn’t acceptable.

He tried to peek into Jungkook’s bedroom to see if he knew what to do, but the youngest Alpha was nowhere to be found. Jimin went to your den’s door to see if he could hear anything. Maybe if he knew you were slumbering away, he could calm down.

However, he did not hear the even, slow breaths of someone sleeping. It was the staccato breaths and sniffles of someone crying. How did he not hear them til now?

Were you a master of hiding your tears as well as your scent?

What does he do now?

With how the shadows moved along the bottom of the door, Jimin knew you were leaning against it. He couldn’t open it, or he would hit you. Did you want someone to come and comfort you?

Why had you just crumpled at the door?

Did Taehyung and his actions at the door bother you that much?

Not knowing how to make anything better but unwilling to leave you alone, Jimin sat against the wall next to your door. He sends out his calming orange scent with a hint of vanilla, hoping it will slow your tears.

He is reserved to stay there all night if he has to.

Nearly two hours later, he hears movement from your room, which startles Jimin. He thought maybe you had fallen asleep against the door. Watching the shadows play along the floor, he can tell you to get up and go farther into the room.

Should he knock now?

What are you doing?

Will you finally seek comfort in the nest he carefully made for you?

After hearing the sounds of water and more rustling of clothes, Jimin realizes that you are getting ready for bed. You shuffle around the room for a moment. Then he can hear you get on the bed… wait, you walk again.

Where are you going?

What’s on the other side of the room?

At the sound of your renewed staccato breathing far away from his nest, Jimin joins you in your silent cries from the hallway. Thoughts of failing to build a proper nest, thoughts of ruining things for you with Namjoon, and thoughts of you rejecting the mate bond taunt him behind your closed door.

He will fix this.

He will be the first mate you see when you wake up. He will find out what is wrong and correct it. He has to, and he will make Tae help.

Evil cackling laughter is heard before the voice says, “Filthy mongrel, tear it down before someone sees.”

“Of course, Mama. I won’t make it again,” you say with tears in your eyes.

“You are just an attention whore,” a male voice says.

You shake your head, “No, no! I thought if I did it… I just wanted you to like me.”

Another female voice sounds off. “He only keeps you around because you are easier than a blow-up doll and warmer, too. "

Wiping off your face from the lunch they just dumped on you, the sounds of the cafeteria’s laughter making you dizzy. “He said he loved me.”

“Just act like a normal human being, Y/n. Then maybe you won’t be so pathetic,” the older woman says, pulling you by your hair and throwing you in the closet. “Now stay there and reflect. Don’t you ever tell a soul.”

“Meemaw! No, let me out please! Don’t leave me here!” Your cries go unanswered for days, all because you cuddled on the couch with Evie and three of her brothers in a Kitty pile.

“Why would I want a child with you? I’d rather you die.” Eric’s voice goes on repeat.

That’s when the pain starts.

You feel the slaps across your face, the kicking of your stomach, the snapping of your ankle, your lungs filling with water, and the never-ending feeling of falling down the stairs.

“Y/n!” You hear your voice being called and know that more torment is coming. Your body starts to shake.

“Y/n, baby, 내꺼. Please, wake up. Naekkeo,” a pleading voice breaks through the hazy of the nightmare you are having.

Still being shaken by someone’s hands, you sit up like a shot, and panic that you are going to get hurt floods your system. Your eyes are wide and unseeing what is around you causing your eyes to dart around the room, looking for danger.

It isn’t until hands hold your face and force you to look at the person sitting next to you. You see Jimin with worry, pain, and so much more etched on his face.

“Y/n, Naekkeo, you are safe at the packhouse. I have you,” he says gently but with surety. His eyes never leave yours, the orange and vanilla scent falling over you like a blanket.

“Ji..Jimin?” you clarify, grabbing his hands to ensure he is real. Tears falling again, you launch yourself into his arms. “Jimin, it was a nightmare, right?”

Caught off by suddenly having his new mate in his arms, he is lucky that the instinct to protect you is so strong, or the both of you might have ended up on the floor. Scooting to sit properly in the window seat, he pulls you into a more secure hold. Wrapping his arms around your trembling form, he puts your head on his shoulder and rocks slowly.

“Yes, Naekkeo. It was all a nightmare. You’re not hurt,” Jimin reaffirms by pulling you a faction closer.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble against his neck as tears wet his pajama shirt.

“No, nightmares are not something to be sorry about. Something causes them to happen, and it is beyond your control. Do you have them often?”

“Not really. I haven’t had them in a while, but they still come. They usually last a lot longer than this.”

“Not anymore. We won’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.” He hears you take a breath to say something, but he cuts you off: “Don’t worry about us missing out on sleep or something like that. We will lose more sleep if you know you are going through them without us helping you.”

He feels you relax more in his hold. Brushing your hair out of your eyes, Jimin looks at you again with a soft smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head and clarify, “I think I should tell Bangtan together. I already explained some to Namjoon but…”

“You only want to say it once,” Jimin finishes your sentence. “Makes sense but can I ask you a question?”

Sitting up more, pulling slightly out of his hold, you get held in place firmer. Surprisingly, you don’t feel the need to tense up. Instead, it warms your soul that your nightmares aren’t detouring him and that he still wants to be the friend he promised initially.

“What is your question?”

You see his eyes flick up and then back down to you, his eyes distant, like he is trying to find the right words. A moment later, he looks you dead in the eye, alerting your mind, and asks, “Why did you not sleep in the nest I made for you?”

“The nest?”

Timidly, Jimin bites his bottom lip and nods to the bed, “Did I not make it well enough?”

Glancing to the bed, you see the nest again. It’s then your scent comes crashing back. Your sweet pea is slightly moldy, hinting at perfume tones and a splash of bergamot.

Jimin instantly sends soothing scents and rubs your back, “It’s okay if you don’t like it. Everyone likes them in different ways.”

“It’s not that, Jimin. It’s lovely.” Looking back at the Alpha holding you with a smile filled with sadness and longing. “It’s perfect. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

Confusion fills Jimin’s face, looking between you and the bed. His mouth opens and closes like a fish before he huffs. Without another thought, Jimin stands, cradling you to his chest, one arm across your back and the other hooking under your knees.

“Jimin! Jimin, put me down. I weigh like 1,000 pounds,” you say in high-pitched but hushed tones, trying not to wake up the rest of the house.

It's like your mind wants to get out of his grasp, but your body never wants to let go, which is why you have a vice grip on his shoulders despite your words.

A soft but low growl comes from him. Looking down at you, with a now deadpan face, he says, “I am an Alpha. I was made to pick you up no matter what. How would I be able to protect you, hold you, and comfort you if I couldn’t?”

Stilling in his arms, you take in the feeling of his engaged but not straining shoulder under your grip.

Finally, he starts walking again towards the nest. You watch his face in slightly shocked awe. There is no trembling, no sweat on his brown, no indication that you are too much for him. You are dropped inside the nest before you can ask questions and unpack this new information.

“Jimin,” you whine, only for him to sit outside and level you with a firm look.

“I made this for you. Jungkook helped a little, but each of Bangtan contributed a blanket and at least one pillow to add to your nest. Do you want to know why?”

Still, in a semi-balled-up fetal position, you are covered in a multitude of scents. You want to know, but you don’t, “Jimin, thank you for making this, but I think… I think…”

“You think we are taking it too far? Think that if you start accepting your situation more we will hurt you like others in your past?” he questions.

Breaking eye contact, you look at the woven blanket wall of the nest again. “The seven of you are so tightly woven together that the world knows who all of you are. Most people who dislike K-pop will at least have some idea of who BTS is. I don’t want to ruin anything.”

A chuckle comes from the red panda, “You won’t. It’s impossible.”

Now it's your turn to chuckle: “Oh yeah, sure, that is why you guys had a whole new contract written up. If I were a regular Playmate, then I could see you saying that, but…”

“But you are not,” Jimin cuts you off. “That is why nothing will be ruined.” He scoots closer to the wall of the nest and tilts his head, asking, “May I come in? I want to see something.”

You glance at him before looking around again, noting that the nest he made is, technically, big enough for at least one, maybe two more people.

“You can say no. You can say no to all of us. You could have said no to Namjoon-hyung tonight as well,” Jimin states again with total seriousness.

You can say no, but is it improper to say no?

You can say no, but will you always say no?

You can say no, but did you want to say no?

With the look in Jimin’s eyes, the scents surrounding you from the nest, and the little voice inside your heart, the answer is No.

No, it's not improper to say no.

No, you won’t always say no.

No, you want to say yes.

“You can join me,” you say just above a hushed whisper.

Carefully, with his eyes still locked with yours, Jimin climbs over the nest wall and finds space between the wall and you. He lays with his back to the door, facing you.

Once Jimin settles, your body uncurls and relaxes instinctively. Your braced hand finds the hem of his shirt and holds on as you turn to face him. The other hand bounces between resting on your side to the bed, under your head, and back again.

Telegraphing his intention, Jimin clasps his hand in yours and settles it between you. The breath you had been unknowingly holding releases, and you breathed in the pack again, but this time with Jimin's more robust, fresh scent.

“There she is. My Naekkeo smells like sweet peas and vanilla again,” smiles Jimin.

You blush this time at the name Naekkeo; Jimin is calling you sweetheart in Korean. He had said it before, but you were so panicked from the nightmare that the translation part of your brain was offline.

“Y/n, I will be as honest as I can with you. Please listen to everything I have to say before you say anything and know it is okay not to say anything,” Jimin states with a questioning look.

You snuggle down into the comfort of the nest and nod at the Alpha. Jimin smiles fondly at your actions as he tries to figure out just how to tell you enough but not too much.

“Playmates were forced on Bangtan Pack at the beginning. PD-nim said if we accepted them, the rest of the industry would accept them. It would save the lives of hybrid Idols from turning feral or losing them to suicide.”

You sucked in a harsh breath but kept quiet, letting him continue.

“We didn’t say no. We didn’t think we could. Our first Playmate came with all the bells, whistles, and services included. She got mad when none of us would touch her. None of us wanted to. She repulsed us with her outright desire that stunk up a city block.

“She even tried to use some of those aphrodisiac chocolates on Jungkook-ah. Once Namjoon-hyung found out, it was war. He went after the Playmate’s company, PD-nim, and even threatened to break our contract with Hybe and BigHit.

“After that, all of our Playmates had the contracts you saw. In fact, most of our playmates were homosexual female-identified, which made it easy because, well, we are all males. Contrary to popular belief, even though we are a male mate-bonded pack, most of us still appreciate the female body and have experience with it.”

You giggle at the random fact. You had figured the pack wasn’t opposed to being with either gender after a few of the songs that Lily showed you. Jimin just raised his eyebrow in question, but you waved him to continue.

Pulling your hand to his chest, he continues, “When you came crashing into our lives, everything changed. Yoongi, Jungkook, Seokjin, and I were the first to realize that you were different. It wasn’t long after that the rest understood that, too.

“We wanted you in our lives before your hand got broken. Actually, Yoongi wanted away from all the Playmate scents so badly that he left the observation room to run right into the reason why.”

Pulling your hand up, he kisses the back softly, then looks at you again before clarifying, “You. None of us see you as a Playmate, Y/n. There is a reason why the contract we took on says there is the option to integrate you into the pack. We are just trying to explore what it is during this time.

“At the end of the contract, we all may better understand what has happened or is happening. Then, together, the eight of us will discuss what happens next. Just remember, you always have the right to say no.”

The silence following is not deafening, but it is heavy.

You were given so much information all at once. Mostly, you wanted to punch their first Playmate while praising Namjoon for being an incredible Prime Alpha and protecting the pack. That is two Playmates now that you understand need a good old-fashioned ass-whoopin’.

Jimin’s words confirmed what Taehyung and Hoseok had said before you signed the contract. He was there then and agreed, but you still had doubts. How much you want to trust them frustrates you, but you question everything you do.

Maybe it’s not them that you don’t trust.

Maybe you don’t trust– you.

God, your brain has too much going on right now. The plethora of information, the adrenaline of the nightmare wearing off, and the comfort of the nest with Jimin makes you sleepy.

Stifling a yawn, Jimin chuckles.

“I have so much to think about now. Thank you for sharing everything, Jimin,” you say. “I think… I think I want to talk to the pack tomorrow if I can. I need to tell them about my nightmares, my ex, and let them know what you told me. Maybe we can all clear a few things up.”

The red panda barks pleasedly, and a bright smile graces his face. “I think that is a beautiful idea, but right now, Naekkeo, you need more sleep,” he agrees and moves to get out of the nest, pulling a whine from you.

It shocks both of you. Jimin looked around to ensure he hadn’t knocked over anything in the nest. Meanwhile, you are blushing at the fact you literally whined at the thought of Jimin leaving you alone in the nest.

“Naekkeo?” questions Jimin, still frozen in mid-climb.

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean, I shouldn’t,” you blabber.

Turning back to you, Jimin cradles your face in his palm, drawing your eyes to his. “You can ask me anything.”

“Can you… can you stay… in the nest… with me?” you hesitantly question. “I mean, you can also say no. Youhaveyourownbedanddonhavetostay.”

“May I answer before you decide for me?”

“Ah yeah, sorry. I tend to keep…” Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you open them again and say, “Yes, sorry.”

“I would be honored to share your nest tonight,” Jimin says with a heart-melting smile, bringing his hand away from your face. “Where do you want me?”

That paused you… Where did you want him?

Looking at where he was, then where you were, you weren’t sure where else he could go besides where he was now. The confusion must have shown either on your face or your scent because Jimin started trying to hold in his laughter.

Glaring at him playfully, you ask, “What is so funny? Who asks that kind of question? You just lay there and sleep. It’s not me to tell you where you will be comfortable.”

“That isn’t what I meant, Y/n. I meant, like, do you want me against the wall or between you and the bedroom door? Under the covers or over the covers? Big spoon, little spoon, no spoon?” Jimin informs you, watching as each option is said and his heart fluttering at the blush that covers your cheeks at the last three options.

“Ah… well. You are the Alpha and are the protector-ish one between us so maybe where you are now, between the door and I. Not that anything would come to get us in the packhouse but on principle,” you stammer out.

“Alright, Protector-ish Jimin in place,” he says jokingly as he puffs out his chest. “Now over or under?”

Giggling at his actions, you pull the covers from under you. Snuggling in them, you say, “I can’t sleep without a blanket because I get cold easily. Do you?”

Jimin thinks about it for a few seconds. “Well, I do like to sleep with blankets but I don’t have to sleep that way if it will make you uncomfortable. However, if I sleep under the covers, it will help warm them and in turn warm you.”

Your face drops in a flush of heat as you remember Taehyung’s words, “I am sure someone would be willing to warm you up,’ and you warm up all on your own.

“Ah well, I do get cold, and Taehyung said that Alphas were good at keeping warm. Umm… so you can be under them if you want.”

Nodding slowly, Jimin slips under the covers. His Alpha pushes him to find ways to keep you comfortable. Since you didn’t give a no and didn’t say anything that could indicate you hated the idea, he would do just as you said. Besides, as Protector-ish Jimin, he couldn’t stand the thought of you being cold while he was this close to you.

Watching you, he can tell you are waiting for him to ask about the last part. “Big spoon, small spoon, or no spoon, Naekkeo?”

Your eyes drop to the space between the two of you. Your meemaw’s words hit you again, but then the comfort you felt when cuddling with Evie and Derik followed and finished with the security you felt in Jimin’s arms on the sitting window.

“You can say no spoon, Y/n. I won’t mind.”

“I used to be a big cuddler, but I… I don’t much more. Um, typically only with my family pack. Can we just lay like this for now?”

“Of course. I will always respect your wishes,” smiles Jimin. You search his face for a hint of disappointment or anger but find nothing but his smile of contentment.

You return his smile, which quickly becomes a rather large yawn. Giggling, you snuggle down farther, then reach out and take his hand with yours: “Is this okay?”

“Y/n, I had you in my lap and offered to be any spoon you wanted. I think I am fine with holding your hand while we sleep,” he teases you.

“You’re right,” you giggle. “Well, so you know, I am a wiggler and a traveler. I have been known to end up with my head down and my feet up. So if I get too much, you can wake me up or hold me in place until I stop. Or whatnot. Evie always ends up sleeping on my chest to pin me in place.”

“Hmm, I see. Well, if you turn into a human tornado, then I may have to find a way to tie you up,” he says with his eyes closed, completely missing the shocked look on your face. However, he does take note of your scent turning to honey with arousal.

Jimin thinks of all the ways Hoseok used his kinbaku and shibari skills as a form of meditation, relaxation, and trust-building practice between them. Maybe Hoseok can use them on you and help you in the same way he helped Jimin with his anxiety and trust issues.

Either way, the imagery of you in intricately knotted silk or hemp rope makes Jimin very happy that you didn’t choose him to be the big spoon right about now.

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