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kookiewithluv · 1 month ago

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ASHES OF A PROMISE

• TITLE: ASHES OF A PROMISE

• PAIRING: Lycan king!Jungkook x Werewolf!Reader

•WORD COUNT: 15.3k

• GENRE: Paranormal Romance, Dark Fantasy, Smut, Slow burn, Fluff (?), Tragic Romance, werewolf au, Royal au

• TRIGGER WARNING: The following content contains themes of emotional distress, manipulation, rejection, and verbal abuse, including emotionally charged arguments and hurtful dialogue that could be distressing. There are references to violence, power dynamics, and trauma. Additionally, there are moments of self-doubt, intense emotional breakdowns, and interactions involving possessive and hostile behaviors. Please proceed with caution if these topics are sensitive or triggering for you.

• SUMMARY: You were a hopeless romantic, dreaming of a mate who would love you as fiercely as you loved him. But when you finally meet your mate, you discover he’s no ordinary wolf — he’s the Lycan king, the alpha of all alphas. Worse, he neither wants you nor is willing to reject you, leaving you trapped in a loveless bond in his kingdom. As queen to a king who resents you, the mate bond grows stronger, making you more vulnerable with each passing day. Now, you must break through the walls around his heart and make him love you, because staying in this bond without love is unbearable, yet leaving isn’t an option he’ll allow.

• a/n: This story is entirely a work of fiction and is the sole property of @kookiewithluv . The characters, events, and scenarios depicted are products of the imagination and are not intended to represent or reflect real-life situations, nor do I wish for anything portrayed here to occur in reality. I kindly ask that my work not be copied, translated, or reposted as your own on this or any other platform, including YouTube. Please respect the effort and originality behind this piece. Thank you for your understanding and support.

•a/n: Hey, everyone! How’s it going? I hope you’re all having a blast! So, here we are—Chapter 1 is finally up, and let me just say, it’s a masterpiece of disappointment! Honestly, I think I might hate it even more than the prologue, which is saying something because that was basically my attempt at literary self-sabotage. I’m pretty sure you’ll read this and wonder if I’ve lost my mind—or my talent, if I ever had any. But hey, if you end up hating it, I totally understand; I’ll just be over here, crying in a corner and contemplating my life choices. So, enjoy this train wreck of a chapter… or don’t, because either way, I’ll be doing the same!

PROLOGUE MASTERLIST 02

CHAPTER 1: THE MATE'S LAMENT

You pressed a trembling hand against your chest, the ache inside sharper than any wound. What did this mean? What had you done to deserve this crushing weight?

The thought pierced through you like a knife, and a ragged sob tore from your throat, scraping the walls raw as it escaped. Your whole body shook with the force of it. How could someone so beautiful be so cruel? How?

Maybe you didn’t deserve any of it. Any of the love.

Your spiral was interrupted by the soft creak of the door. Startled, you lifted your tear-blurred eyes just as a small figure stepped inside. Her footsteps faltered as soon as she saw you, eyes wide and doe-like, her breath catching in her chest. One hand gripped the doorknob, knuckles white, while the other clenched into a tight fist at her side. She hesitated, before she finally let go of the door, letting it close with a soft click.

"Luna," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

She took a step toward you, then another, her deamnour unsure, almost hesitant, as if the space between you and her was filled with something fragile, something that might shatter if she came too close. Her small frame seemed to shrink even more as she neared, her shoulders hunched as if the weight of the moment was too much to bear. In three careful steps, she stood in front of you, shifting her weight from one foot to the other like she wanted to leave but couldn’t. Her fingers nervously twisted the fabric of her sleeves, her gaze flickering to your tear-streaked face, then away, unable to hold it for too long.

"Hi," she started again, her voice hesitant, as if unsure of what to say, what to hold back. You could see the confusion in her eyes, flickering across her face as she tried to make sense of her own presence here. She didn’t look like a maid or servant, nothing about her carried that air. Her gaze flitted around the room, nervously taking in everything but you—never you, not for longer than a fleeting second.

"His Majesty mentioned you were injured... and insisted someone should tend to you immediately?" Her words came out like a question, not a statement. Her eyes finally, really, landed on you, sweeping over your body as if searching for visible wounds. But you said nothing, offering her no comfort or explanation. You could see her stiffen, her shoulders drawing up, tension coiling through her body. Her fingers twitched at her sides, clenching and unclenching. Was it anxiety? Or was she angry? You couldn’t tell. Angry at you? Angry at the situation?

She stood there, rigid and uncomfortable, like she was trying to hold back a storm raging inside her.

"You don’t... you don’t look physically hurt," she said at last, her voice faltering despite the firmness she was trying to inject into it. Her tone was small, unsure, like she was afraid of overstepping.

"I’m not," you replied, finally breaking the silence. She let out a soft, breathy exhale, her lips parting slightly in relief. For a moment, the tension seemed to leave her body, but only briefly. Her hands still shook as she moved closer, taking a seat beside you on the bed. She tried to appear composed, confident even, but her worried eyes betrayed her. They darted over your face, as if searching for something she didn’t quite understand.

Her posture was straighter now, but her fingers were knotted together in her lap, betraying her own emotions, she was feeling. She was doing her best to stay in control, but the way her hands trembled gave her away.

You didn’t understand what had her so on edge, not fully. Maybe deep down, you knew, but you didn’t want to acknowledge it. You could feel it—the pull. You were her Luna, and her wolf was bound to you, connected in a way she couldn’t resist. She was loyal to the core, and now that you were hurting, her wolf could feel it all. It was written in the way her breath hitched, in the tightening of her jaw, in the way her hands trembled despite her outward composure.

Even if you didn’t know her exact role within the pack, you could tell she was someone important. The weight of the connection was pressing down on her, forcing her to share the burden of emotions that weren’t her own. She had no choice in the matter—her wolf was loyal, whether she wanted it or not. And here she was, sitting beside you, a silent, anxious witness to the pain you carried inside.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her left hand landing on your shoulder with a slow, soothing touch. But the question felt hollow to you—meaningless. Even she knew the answer. It was as if she didn’t want to hear the truth, didn’t want to face it. She wanted the lie. She wanted you to say you were fine, that everything was manageable. But you couldn’t.

“No,” the word slipped from your lips in a breathy whisper, unplanned, unwelcome. It was already out before you could pull it back, and the floodgates opened. “I’m not.” You shook your head slightly, your voice cracking as you turned to her, eyes wide and raw. “Nothing’s okay. Nothing!” The confession ripped out of you, trembling and desperate, like a wound finally exposed.

She didn’t hesitate. She pulled you into her arms, wrapping them tightly around you, holding you like she could shield you from everything that had broken you. Her embrace was warm, her hands gentle as they pressed against your back, but it still didn’t reach the cold emptiness inside. You were like a traveler lost in a winter storm, seeking shelter but finding nothing, standing on an endless, frozen street with nowhere to go. The comfort she offered felt distant, as if you were too far gone to feel it.

"It will be okay," she murmured into your hair, but you knew better. You weren’t naïve. You had seen the truth—felt it. How could it ever be okay when the weight of everything had already crushed you? There was no hope, only more pain ahead. You could feel it in your bones, in the ache that refused to let go.

“I am sure of it,” she continued, pulling back slightly to look at you, her hands gently wiping the tears from your face. Her touch was tender, but her words stung. “You’re his mate, Luna. He’ll come around. You just have to hold on. Don’t cry, please. My wolf… she’s going crazy.”

Her voice broke, and you realized it wasn’t just her trying to comfort you—it was her wolf, the pull of the bond making her feel everything you were going through. Her desperation was palpable. At least she was here, trying, when the one person who should have been with you had left you to cry alone.

You nodded, your head bobbing violently, avoiding her eyes. You didn’t have the strength to argue, not now. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, the sleeve of your white dress smudging black as your mascara mixed with the salty wetness. But the tears wouldn’t stop. They just kept coming, rolling down your cheeks as if they had a life of their own, and you were powerless to hold them back.

“Come, let’s go.” She stood up, brushing her hands nervously over the front of her gown, before turning to look back at you. Her soft, innocent eyes locked onto your face, but you didn’t move. You just stared up at her, perplexed and still too disoriented to understand.

“What happened, Luna?” Her voice was gentle, almost coaxing.

“Go where?” you asked, blinking slowly, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Oh… to your room,” she said, her voice wavering with uncertainty. Her fingers twisted around the edge of her sleeve as she spoke. “His Majesty told me to prepare it for you.” She hesitated, watching for your reaction, her gaze flickering from your face to the floor, as if unsure whether she should continue. “He chose it himself,” she added, more hesitant now, her words hanging awkwardly in the air.

The statement only deepened your confusion, and your brow furrowed. You had known he wouldn’t let you stay with him in his room—that much had been clear. But why did he bring you here in the first place? What was the point of it all?

“Then why did he bring me here?” The question slipped out before you could stop it, your voice sharper than you intended. It was absurd, the way he had toyed with your heart, made you feel vulnerable, only to discard you like you were nothing. What was he thinking?

The girl fidgeted, her hands wringing together nervously. “I fear only His Majesty holds the answer to that, my Luna,” she whispered, casting her gaze down, avoiding your eyes, as if she could feel the weight of your frustration, your confusion.

“But why not here?” you asked, your voice soft but insistent, as your instincts clawed to keep you rooted in this room. His scent still lingered, that familiar mix of ocean water and coconut, wrapping around you like a lifeline. It was strange, undeniably so, but to you, it felt like home. Your body refused to let go of what little remained of him here, as if holding onto it might somehow ease the ache in your chest.

The girl shifted on her feet, her eyes wide as she struggled to find the right words. “Luna, this is the royal chamber,” she began, her hands fidgeting nervously at her sides.

You frowned, glancing around the room. “Isn’t the whole palace royal?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion. You finally rose to your feet, taking in the grand space around you. It was beautiful—majestic, even. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but admire it. A part of you loved this room, wanted to stay here just a little longer.

“That’s true,” she admitted, her voice hesitant. “But…” She trailed off, biting her lip as if weighing whether she should continue. You looked at her, curiosity sparking in your eyes, though the confusion still lingered. “This chamber… it’s reserved for the king and queen. They stay here after the mating ceremony with the pack. It’s tradition.”

She was speaking quickly now, as if nervous about how much she was revealing. Her feet shuffled anxiously beneath her, her gaze darting from you to the door. “What tradition?” you asked, stepping toward her, your voice edged with frustration.

She hesitated, wringing her hands before finally speaking again. “The first time the king brings his mate here, it’s only to…” She paused, glancing up at you, clearly uneasy. “To mate. If they don’t, they must wait for two full moons before… before they can try again.”

“Huh?” The word fell from your lips, flat and disbelieving. It made no sense—if this room held such significance, why would he have brought you here only to leave you feeling like you didn’t matter? You stared at her, trying to piece together what was happening, but the more you thought about it, the less it made sense.

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair as the weight of it all pressed down on you. Nothing about this felt right, and yet here you were, standing in the middle of a hall staring at a room that wasn’t meant for you—not yet, at least.

“Luna, please walk ahead,” she urged softly, a hint of panic creeping into her voice. “If His Majesty finds out you were walking behind me, he will have my head. And… well, my mate being the royal general probably won’t help much in this case.”

You blinked in realization, your mind connecting the dots. Her mate… Neil. The royal general. You remembered their story well—how it had caused an uproar just a few months ago. She was an omega, and he was a powerful, high-ranking general. It was unheard of, taboo even, for someone of his rank to mate with someone so low in status. But Neil had fought for her, tooth and nail, defying tradition for the love of his mate.

Back then, when you heard about their story, it had filled you with hope. You had dreamed of a love like that—someone who would fight for you, who would stand by your side no matter what. But now, you weren’t so sure. You had the king himself as your mate, but did you really have him? You had everything… and yet, nothing.

As you nodded at her request, you moved forward through the empty halls, your feet heavy with each step. The silence between you both felt oppressive, weighed down by unspoken questions. One question above all lingered in your mind, echoing with every step: Why did he bring me here?

Everything had seemed fine at first. But as soon as you reached the royal chamber, something had shifted in Jungkook. His whole demeanor changed—cold, distant, like he didn’t want you at all.

Your thoughts churned as you walked, your hands brushing against the fabric of your dress, your fingers absently tracing the delicate embroidery. You remembered the way his jaw had tightened, how his eyes darkened with something you couldn’t quite place—anger? Fear? Disgust?

“Luna, here we are,” Patricia announced softly, her voice warm and welcoming as she opened the door to your room. It wasn’t as grand as the royal chamber, but it had a certain charm. The crimson walls immediately caught your attention, the color soothing and familiar—it was a shade you loved.

Patricia stood by the doorway, a hopeful glint in her eyes. “Do you like it, Luna?” she asked, her voice bright, almost chirping with excitement. She clasped her hands in front of her, shifting slightly from foot to foot, clearly eager for your approval.

A small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you glanced around the room. “Yes,” you replied, your gaze settling on a vase in the corner. Its intricate design and deep red flowers seemed to echo the mood of the room. “It’s lovely.” You turned back to her, your smile softening, but something felt off. “Thank you…” You trailed off, realizing you didn’t know her name, despite spending so much time with her.

She giggled, the sound light and carefree, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You can call me Patricia,” she said, her tone almost teasing.

“Patricia…” you repeated softly. She smiled wider, pleased with your response.

“Well, Luna,” she said, stepping back toward the door, “I’ll leave you now. You should rest.” Her eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, as if she wanted to say more but thought better of it. She turned to leave, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Are you heading back to the gathering?” you asked, your voice catching just slightly as you remembered the night’s events.

Patricia paused, glancing over her shoulder. “No, it’s over.”

“Over?” you frowned. “But wasn’t it important?”

She shrugged, her tone light, dismissive. “Not really.”

Her casual response left you with more questions than answers, but before you could say anything else, Patricia moved toward the door, and the only sound that escaped your lips was a quiet, “Oh.”

Patricia’s voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to the moment. “Please excuse me, Luna. My mate must be waiting for me,” she said gently, her voice tinged with warmth as she spoke of her mate.

You nodded, not trusting your voice, and watched her leave, the soft click of the door sealing you in the quiet room. Alone.

You slowly made your way to the bed, your body heavy with exhaustion. Just as you were about to lie down, you paused, realizing you didn’t have anything comfortable to wear for the night. The realization hit you like a dull thud in your chest—Patricia had taken care of everything, yet this one detail, your clothes, had been forgotten.

You let out a long, tired breath, shoulders slumping as you gave in. "What could I have done, anyway?" you muttered to yourself. There wasn’t much choice left now. You flopped onto the bed, the mattress soft beneath your weight, cradling your tired body.

The room was bathed in a soft silver glow, the moonlight filtering through the open window. Its light danced gently on the floor, casting a peaceful glow over the room as you reached over to turn off the switch. The curtains fluttered, brushing softly against the windowsill, swaying with the rhythm of the cold night breeze. Each gust sent a shiver through the room, a subtle reminder of the world outside, yet it felt so far from where you lay.

You stared out of the window, eyes tracing the outline of the moon hanging bright in the dark sky. It was beautiful, breathtaking even, but your mind was elsewhere. Too much had happened in the past few hours, too many changes for you to grasp. Your life had flipped upside down in the blink of an eye, and you still didn’t know if it was for better or worse.

Your chest tightened with the weight of everything—the uncertainty, the confusion, the aching loneliness that sat heavy inside you like a stone. The whirlwind of thoughts swirled in your mind, twisting and turning, never settling long enough for you to catch your breath.

You didn’t even realize when your eyelids began to droop, when the tiredness finally pulled you under. Your last thought, tangled and blurry, was of him—of the cold distance between you, of the things left unsaid. And then, sleep claimed you, taking you away from the chaos, if only for a little while.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

“Luna,” a soft, melodic voice broke through the fog of your deep sleep, coaxing you gently. You stirred, rolling to your side, trying to escape the harsh sunlight now streaming through the windows and landing directly on your face.

“Luna, wake up,” the voice came again, more insistent. You groaned, forcing your eyes open, blinking against the light. Patricia was standing beside your bed, crouched slightly, shielding you from the sun with her body. Her lips curved into a smile when she saw you stirring, and she backed away as you groggily sat up, rubbing your eyes.

The groan in your throat grew louder as you tried to shake off the heavy weight of sleep, your body protesting. "What time is it?" you muttered, rubbing at your face, a wide yawn slipping out before you could stop it.

“Seven,” Patricia replied, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion as a giggle escaped her. She didn’t seem to understand why you were asking.

“Seven?” you repeated, eyes widening. “It’s so early!” you whined, dragging out the words as you slumped back against the headboard.

Patricia’s eyes went wide in shock, her mouth hanging open as if you had said something utterly ridiculous. “What?” she nearly yelled, making you flinch. Realizing she’d startled you, she quickly apologized. “You must be teasing me,” she said, her voice softer now, though still filled with disbelief.

You raised an eyebrow, genuinely confused. “Why would I do that? Why are you so shocked?” you asked, slowly crawling out of bed, stretching your stiff limbs as you yawned again.

“Luna, it’s past seven, actually,” Patricia said, her tone matter-of-fact as she crossed her arms. “Everyone here wakes up at four!”

Your mouth fell open, and you froze mid-stretch. “Four?” you repeated, staring at her as if she had just said something in another language. "You're joking, right?"

She shook her head, her eyes wide with sincerity, clearly baffled by your reaction. You stood there, at a loss for words, trying to process the absurdity of it all. Four in the morning? That was barely even night!

“Why?” was all you could manage to ask, your mind racing with disbelief. You wanted to scream, “What the hell do you guys do at four in the morning?”

“It’s just how it is here,” Patricia replied, her voice calm now, though her eyes were still fixed on you with a hint of curiosity, as if trying to understand your reaction. “Just bath and get ready. His Majesty wants to meet you.”

“Me?” You pointed incredulously at yourself, your index finger hovering in the air as disbelief washed over you. Why would he want to see you, especially after everything that had happened last night? A cold sensation crept through your bones, traveling up your spine. You took a shaky breath as your wolf stirred at the back of your mind, sensing the mere thought of your mate. She hadn’t spoken to you since last night, and you had been too wrapped up in grief to even consider reaching out.

“Yes. I also brought you some clothes.” Patricia gestured to the edge of the bed, where a beautiful red satin dress lay. You nodded silently, trying to calm the swirl of emotions in your chest. As you took two hesitant steps toward the bathroom, you froze, suddenly unsure.

Patricia seemed to read your thoughts. She pointed to a door on the left side of the room, and you nodded gratefully, giving her a small smile before darting inside.

The bathroom was nothing short of breathtaking, with marble tiles and a large shower that seemed to beckon you. You didn’t have time to admire it, though. You quickly turned on the shower, letting the water warm up as you glanced at your reflection. Your heart raced, knowing you needed to hurry.

As the water cascaded over you, you joked aloud, “If I bathe any faster, I might just become a fish!” You scrubbed yourself quickly, wishing you had more time to enjoy the luxury, but the thought of Jungkook waiting propelled you forward. “Okay, speed bathing, world record, here I come!” you teased, rinsing off and turning off the shower in a rush.

With a swift motion, you slipped into the red dress. It hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating curves you didn’t know you had, the fabric silky against your skin. You spun around, admiring your reflection for a brief moment before your thoughts turned back to the meeting. You took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom.

“Luna, we’re already late!” Patricia knocked impatiently on the door, her voice pulling you from your trance. The aroma of food wafted through the air, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, but it felt too early for you to consider eating.

“Luna, here, have something before we leave,” she urged, holding out a plate as you emerged.

“I’m not really hungry,” you replied, shaking your head slightly, feeling your stomach churn in nervous anticipation. Patricia’s gaze narrowed slightly as she assessed you for a moment, then she took your hand gently, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I suggest you eat. Believe me, you'll need it," she said, her tone firm, emphasizing the word need. Although hunger wasn't gnawing at your stomach, her earnestness made you feel the weight of her words. You quickly found yourself nibbling on whatever was piling up on your plate, each bite more rushed than the last, as if the food would somehow fortify you for what lay ahead.

After you gobbled down the last bite, you shot up from the bed, the urgency in her demeanor making your heart race. Patricia had gone from bouncing on her tippy toes to sitting next to you, fidgeting with her fingers in her lap, her nervous obvious. You felt her eyes on you, a silent request pushing you to eat faster without her saying a word.

“Let’s go,” you finally said, your voice steady despite the nerves bubbling in your stomach. She nodded vigorously, her eyes brightening as she stood and led the way out of the room.

“Where are we really going?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

“To your his majesty's study room,” she stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You could only blink in her as she sprinted down the hall. You followed her, feeling a bit like a lost child trying to keep up with an overly eager parent.

“Luna, please walk beside me, not behind me,” Patricia said, glancing over her shoulder, her voice tinged with silent frustration. You noted how her fingers twisted together, betraying her emotions.

You quickened your pace, taking two long strides to match her side, a faint smile tugging at your lips as you caught up. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to lag behind,” you said, trying to lighten the mood, though a small part of you understood her worry and frustration.

Soon, you found yourself standing in front of a closed door, a chill of apprehension creeping down your spine. Patricia halted, taking a deep breath that seemed to stretch in the air, oppressively. You watched her knuckles turn white as she knocked, each rap echoing through the silence.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

A gruff voice came from behind the door, “Come in.” As she pushed the door open, she gestured for you to enter first. You hesitated for a moment, your heart racing in your chest, then nodded and stepped inside.

As you crossed the threshold, the moment felt surreal. Your wolf stirred at the sound of his voice, an unsettling mix of yearning and pain washing over you, but the overwhelming grief she carried held her back. The room was dimly lit, casting shadows that danced around the edges, but your focus was solely on him. Jungkook sat behind a massive desk, his dark eyes locking onto yours the instant you entered. They seemed to deepen, filled with an intensity that made your stomach drop, and a cold, menacing smirk crept across his softly thin lips.

You felt your heartbeat quicken as you approached him, each step a battle against the swirl of emotions inside you. His brow arched as you stood before his desk, a silent provocation hanging between you. The weight of his gaze bore down on you, and you had to fight the urge to bare your neck to him.

From your left, you caught a glimpse of Patricia standing close to Neil, their heads bent together as they whispered something to each other. Neil gazed at her with an expression that made your heart ache—adoration shimmering in his eyes. Their fingers intertwined behind their backs, a quiet intimacy that made your chest tighten. You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, for the warmth of shared affection, and it tugged painfully at your heartstrings. You wanted that too.

With a determined look, you turned back to Jungkook, narrowing your eyes in defiance. He was still watching you, a predator relishing the hunt, and his smile widened at your glare. His lips stretched slightly before he caught himself, the playful facade melting into a serious demeanor. You noticed the way his jaw tightened, the flicker of something mingling with intrigue in his gaze.

"What urgent business made Your Majesty summon me here?" you shot back, your tone dripping with sarcasm. The taunt in your voice hung in the air like an electric charge, sparking a reaction in him. His expression shifted, a flash of irritation crossing his face as he absorbed your words, but he quickly masked it.

“I appreciate your time. There’s an important matter I wish to discuss with you—one that requires your attention.” His tone was unnervingly calm, as if your irritation were merely a nuisance to be brushed aside. It ignited your anger further.

“What matters?” you demanded, your voice edged with defiance as you crossed your arms, refusing to back down from his piercing gaze.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin, his expression unreadable. “Now that you are here, and this will be your home, it is time to leave behind the ways of your old pack. There are rules you must follow, and you shall learn them in due course,” Jungkook stated, his voice steady, but the words hit you like a slap.

You straightened your spine, glaring at him. “And, may I ask what rules I need to follow?” The irritation in your voice was clear, though you fought to keep it even.

“First, you’re not allowed to leave the palace without my permission,” he replied, his tone calm and unwavering. The calmness only ignited the fire of rebellion inside you.

“What? You’re serious?” You narrowed your eyes, your hands curling into fists. “That’s absurd.”

“very,” he said, brushing off your defiance as if it were a passing breeze. “Second, you won’t form close relationships with the staff or pack members. And third, you're not to attend pack meetings.”

“You’re isolating me,” you accused, each word sharpened by the rising heat of your frustration. “Do you hear yourself? You can’t possibly expect me to follow this nonsense.”

“You’re also restricted from certain areas of the palace, especially the the royal chamber.”

“Is this just another way to keep me locked up like one of your pets?” you spat, sarcasm dripping from your words as you crossed your arms.

Jungkook’s eyes flashed with a brief flicker of irritation, but he masked it quickly. “You’ll present yourself formally at all events. And you’re not to mention our mating bond to anyone.”

Your laugh was bitter, mocking. “This is pathetic. Do you hear yourself? You want me to pretend to be your perfect little queen while you strip me of every ounce of dignity.”

His expression didn’t change, which only fueled your anger more. “You’ll follow a strict schedule, including etiquette lessons, and as I said, no physical training.”

“No physical training? You can’t stop me from fighting.” You took another step forward, daring him to try. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

“I just did,” he replied coolly, eyes narrowing as he looked down at you. “You're not to challenge me in front of the pack. You will dress appropriately, as befits a queen."

You clenched your jaw, a white-hot rage bubbling under your skin.

“You’ll attend all royal ceremonies, whether you want to or not. And there will be no emotional displays in public,” he continued, his voice like iron.

You advanced on him, fury swirling in your veins. “And what if I do?” you dared, eyes gleaming with defiance. “What if I make a scene? What if I let the whole pack see exactly how you treat me?”

“There will be no physical intimacy between us, unless I say otherwise.”

That statement landed like a blow. For a second, you couldn’t respond, your heart hammering in your chest. But you recovered quickly, your lips curling into a sharp, humorless smile.

He remained unmoved. “You will not voice your opinion on pack matters, nor will you challenge the council.”

Your eyes burned with a fierce light. “I’ll challenge anyone I damn well please,” you snapped, stepping even closer. “You can make all the rules you want, but I'll do what I wish.”

“Thats all! I trust that’s clear?”

“Crystal clear,” you growled, sarcastically, your fists shaking with the need to lash out. “But don’t expect me to just obey like one of your trained wolves.”

“patricia will accompany you back to your room,” he said, gesturing toward Patricia, who stood dumbfounded, her mouth agape, her eyes darting between you and Jungkook.

“Ye-yes, Your Majesty,” she stammered, clearly as shocked as you were.

She stepped closer to you, grabbing your hand and tugging gently as if to coax you away, but you couldn’t help throwing daggers at Jungkook with your eyes.

“Luna, please,” Shina pleaded, pulling at your sleeve.

But you weren’t done. Not by a long shot.

You turned sharply, locking eyes with Shina, who was pale and clearly terrified, but before she could speak, you whipped around to face him one last time. “I’m not your possession, and I never will be. One way or another, I will make my own choices.”

His lips twisted into a tight smile. “We’ll see,” he said, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

“I guess we will,” you shot back, your voice steady, daring, as you stormed out of the room, Patricia scrambling to follow.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, the floodgates of your emotions burst open. “He is a bastard!” you yelled, the words echoing through the room. Patricia’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening in shock as she darted a nervous glance at the door.

“Luna, he can hear you!” she hissed, but your anger had already ignited a fire within you, consuming all rational thought.

“I know!” you snapped back, a defiant spark igniting in your chest as you started walking like some deranged animal.

“Wait!” she called, scrambling to catch up to you. “Where are you going?”

“To my room! Duh!” you exclaimed, rolling your eyes as if the answer were the most obvious thing in the world.

“It’s on the other side,” she said, pointing right with an urgency that made her look almost comical. “And don’t say ‘duh!’”

“Whatever!” you shot back, heading in the direction she indicated, arms swinging at your sides.

As soon as you reached your room, you let out a primal scream of frustration, your voice ricocheting off the walls. You began to roam the room, while Patricia watched you with concern, her brow furrowing.

Just then, a sharp knock interrupted your spiral. You turned to Patricia, who nodded at you, her eyes wide as if to say, “Brace yourself.”

“Come in!” you called, trying to sound nonchalant, though your heart raced.

The door swung open, revealing Shina, the beta female, stepping inside with a bright smile. “Shina, FINALLY!” Patricia exclaimed, relief flooding her voice. You felt a flash of offense bubble up inside you—was it really that bad with you?

Shina let out a light laugh before turning her gaze to you, offering a small nod. “I’ve been told to serve as your etiquette teacher,” she said, executing a playful curtsy that made you giggle. “We’re going to have so much fun!”

You couldn’t help but smile back at her eagerness, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Fun? Is that what we’re calling it?”

“I thought she would be provided with a real teacher,” Patricia chimed in, throwing Shina a side-eye that was dripping with sarcasm.

“Are you doubting me?” Shina asked, feigning offense, a hand on her hip, her expression a mix of mock indignation and amusement.

“No, of course not!” Patricia replied, forcing a sweet smile that barely hid her skepticism. “I’m just doubting your etiquette. Do you even have any?”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. You’d never seen Patricia like this; she was usually a bundle of nerves. But now, a smirk played at the corners of her mouth.

“Excuse me?!” Shina gasped, placing a hand on her chest in mock horror. “I’ll have you know that I can differentiate between a salad fork and a dessert fork!”

“Yeah! And, I eat water. But seriously, why you?” Patricia asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. Shina simply shrugged her shoulders, a nonchalant gesture that only fueled your suspicions. You knew the answer all too well: he didn't want anyone to know you were his mate—just the people who had to be in the loop.

“Shall we start?” Shina asked, breaking the tension as she clapped her hands together. Patricia flopped down onto a nearby chair by the window, her movement unceremonious as she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, be ready. But let me warn you, she’s the same woman who once called the duke ‘Dukie.’”

“Don’t mind her,” Shina said, waving her hand dismissively as if brushing away a fly. “She’s just a whiny ass.”

“I heard that!” Patricia shot back, her voice sharper than a knife, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

“I wanted you to hear it,” you chimed in, stifling a laugh at the bickering.

“It’s fine then,” Patricia said, crossing her arms defiantly, her chin tilted up as if she were accepting a challenge.

The two of them were practically squabbling like an old married couple, and you couldn't help but feel amused. Shina leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, Luna—”

“Call me Bee,” you said, cutting her off as a genuine smile breaking through the heaviness in your chest. The nickname, a sweet remnant from your mother. Since her death, no one had used it, and it stung to remember how alone you felt without your wolf at your side after Jungkook had left you. It was as if a gaping void had settled in your mind.

“Are you sure?” Shina asked, glancing at Patricia, who wore an expression of surprise that mirrored your own.

“Yes,” you affirmed, nodding your head fervently.

“Okie!” Shina chirped, bouncing on her feet.

The next few hours dissolved into a whirlwind of laughter and playful jabs from Patricia as Shina animatedly imparted lessons on royal protocol and warrior ethics. You found yourself gasping for breath between fits of giggles at their banter, the absurdity of their comments lightening your mood. Shina was undeniably fun, and you noticed how Patricia relaxed, the rigid lines of her discipline softening in Shina’s presence.

“Finally, we are done!” you screeched, flopping onto your bed like a rag doll, your limbs sprawling out. Patricia, who had been perched on the edge of the bed for what felt like an eternity, looked over at you, a mix of concern and amusement on her face.

“Bee, that wasn’t very queen-like—” she began, her tone teasing, but you shot her a playful glare.

“Shut up!” Shina interjected, her laughter ringing out like a bell. Patricia merely shook her head, a smile breaking through her feigned exasperation. You found it funny how their relationship worked; Patricia was the serious one, and Shina was the carefree one. You couldn't help but wonder how the two of them got along so well in a world that felt so strange to you.

“Bee, now we gotta go,” Shina said, her voice dropping slightly as she held out her hand to Patricia, their fingers interlacing.

“Where?” you asked, a flicker of disappointment gnawing at your insides. You didn’t want them to leave. They had become your lifeline, distracting you from thoughts of Jungkook and the confusion he left behind. Without them, the looming silence would creep back in, suffocating you to no end.

“I’m sorry, Bee, but we have urgent matters to address,” Shina said, her smile tinged with sadness. “But you can come with us if you want to,” she added, her expression brightening as hope glimmered in her eyes.

You nodded eagerly. “Yes! I want to come!”

The three of you made your way out of the room, and a big smile spread across your face. Life in your old pack had been tough, each day a struggle to find your place, but it was different here. Despite Jungkook’s coldness and the constant feeling of not being enough, you were grateful for the friendship blossoming around you. You didn’t know if Patricia and Shina considered you friends, but you sure did. Patricia still maintained a hint of formality, but you sensed she’d warm up eventually, just like Shina had.

“Where are we heading to?” you asked, glancing between the two as they shared a conspiratorial look, excitement dancing in their eyes.

“To the training field,” Shina answered, her voice light and cheerful. She looked at you with a soft smile that made her cheeks flush. “she is the general’s mate, so she is responsible for training the female wolves.” she said pointing at Patricia, as she also blushed for the reasons unknown to you. Her shyness was endearing, but the way her smile faded a bit as she added, “And we also need to train,” hinted at the challenge ahead.

Unfortunately, Jungkook had forbidden you from training—an order that left you feeling more like a caged bird than ever. You didn’t understand why he loathed you so much; his harshness felt like a wall between you. But deep down, you knew this couldn’t last. You couldn’t keep stewing in sadness and anger while he remained a closed book, hiding his emotions from you. You needed to confront him soon; you needed your mate, and he needed you, too, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“Oh! So you mean you’re going there to train and not to eye-fuck the beta?” Patricia piped up, her voice teasing, a wide smirk lighting up her face and a laugh bubbled from your throat.

Shina’s eyes widened in mock horror, her mouth forming an exaggerated “O.” “Patricia! You can’t say that! We have to keep it professional!” She feigned scandal, a hand pressed dramatically against her chest, yet the laughter dancing in her eyes betrayed her.

“Professional? Please!” Patricia rolled her eyes, flicking her hair over her shoulder with a flourish. “The only thing you do professionally is blushing every time beta Kian walks by! I am like woman, he is your damn mate. Get a grip!”

“Oh, and what about you, Miss ‘I Can’t Stop Staring’?” Shina shot back, playfully bumping her shoulder against Patricia's as they walked side by side. “If I recall, you nearly drooled on Neil the other day!”

“Hey! He’s just so—” Patricia started, her cheeks flushing a deep red, “—dreamy! I can’t help it!” She huffed, crossing her arms defiantly but couldn’t hide her smirk.

“Dreamy? More like a heartthrob disaster waiting to happen!” Shina retorted, throwing her head back in laughter, their voices filling the hallway with warmth.

“Will he be there too?” you asked, your voice wavering slightly as both of them paused their bickering to focus on you. Shina’s eyes lit up with a knowing smirk that made your heart race, while Patricia's expression softened, a hint of sympathy in her gaze. She smiled gently, but it didn’t reach her eyes as she whispered, “Yes.”

You nodded slowly, the weight of her understanding hanging in the air. Patricia knew the ache of longing all too well; she had fought her own battles to be with her mate. Neither of you spoke further on the subject as you continued walking toward the training ground. It felt like a long trek, the palace sprawling before you.

As you entered the training field, the chaos hit you like a wave. The air buzzed with energy as female wolves sparred, fists flying in a flurry of movement. Grunts of exertion and the thud of bodies colliding filled the space. It was a sight to behold, but not the prettiest—some faces were twisted with concentration, others were flushed with effort, while some were twisted in pain.

Shina and Patricia quickly motioned you to take a seat in one corner, a quick nod from Shina signaling for you to stay put while they dashed off to change into their training gear.

You took a moment to absorb the scene before you. The female wolves fought with determination, their bodies glistening with sweat under the warm sun. The breathy grunts hanging heavy in the air and... you wanted to join too.

Yet, as you sat on the sidelines, you felt a pang of frustration at Jungkook’s orders. Why had he insisted you stay away from training? You glanced toward the empty side of the field, the male wolves’ training area—silent for now, but you knew they would be there soon. Would Jungkook be among them? Your heart raced at the thought, and your wolf stirred again.

Soon, both Shina and Patricia came sprinting toward you, their bodies clad in sleek training gear that hugged their athletic frames. Shina practically leaped into your space as she exclaimed, “Bee, she will measure the performance of them all! You can wait here while I go help her.” The brightness in her eyes was contagious, and you nodded in agreement, feeling a little like a lost puppy trying to keep up.

They dashed away toward the combat pit, and you watched as Patricia's voice rang out like a bell, instantly commanding attention. “Listen up, everyone!” she called, her tone firm yet encouraging. The warriors immediately fell into line, forming neat rows as Shina moved among them, dividing them into teams with an air of authority that surprised you. It lasted only a moment before the clashing of fists and feet began, filling the air with a rhythm of combat.

You leaned back against the cool wall, eyes wide as you observed the spectacle. The warriors displayed impressive skills, each move fluid and powerful. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of inadequacy—there was no way you could compete, even against the weakest here. This was the royal pack, after all, and they were warriors forged from years of dedication and strength.

Still, you found a sliver of enjoyment in the chaos. Watching them fight was far better than sitting alone in your room, staring at the walls that felt like they were closing in on you. And soon the other training area began to fill up. You spotted Kian entering first, his presence commanding. Shina’s eyes lit up, practically sparkling as she stared at him, her focus wavering. “Shina, focus!” Patricia called out, exasperation lacing her tone as she tried to bring her back to reality. But Shina’s gaze kept drifting back to her shirtless mate, who seemed completely oblivious to the effect he had on everyone around him. Kian was not just hot; he was undeniably hot hot, the kind of hot that drew attention without effort.

You let out a soft chuckle at their antics, but then, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of a dark figure emerging from the shadows. Your heart skipped a beat as a chill raced down your spine. The air around you shifted, crackling with an intense energy that sent heat biting through your bones. A deep, primal desire ignited in your core, wrapping around your heart like a vine.

He was here.

Jungkook.

You turned your head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of him without being obvious, and there he stood in the farthest corner of the training ground, shirtless. Jungkook's eyes were locked on you, igniting a fire deep within your chest. His jaw tightened, and his brows furrowed in a way that made your heart race. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving only his intense gaze that set you ablaze.

With a deliberate slowness, he strode toward the combat pit where Kian waited, a devilish glint flashing in his eyes. Neil, the general, stood off to the side, focused on the other male warriors, a commanding presence that left no room for doubt. But all you could think about was Jungkook. Your breath hitched as he casually began to unbutton his white shirt, each button giving way one by one, exposing more of his chiselled torso. You let out a low whine before you even realized it was your wolf reacting to the sight of him.

Out of all the times for your wolf to make her presence known, she chose now? But who could blame her? Your mate was standing there in low-hanging trousers, his bare skin catching the sunlight and highlighting the contours of his muscles. The sight was intoxicating, and a primal urge surged through you as your wolf growled in your mind, a low rumble of frustration mingling with desire.

“Look at him, Bee. He is so hot,” she purred, her voice sultry and teasing. “Bee, why doesn't he want us?” You could feel her longing vibrating through your very being, making it hard to concentrate on anything else.

As Jungkook and Kian circled each other in the pit. Kian lunged first, throwing a sharp right hook aimed at Jungkook’s jaw, but Jungkook sidestepped with lightning speed, barely lifting an eyebrow in acknowledgement. Kian was quick to recover, spinning on his heel and throwing a swift jab to Jungkook’s ribs, but it was met with nothing but air. Jungkook had already ducked low, his body moving like it had anticipated the strike long before it happened.

Kian came in harder this time, eyes blazing with determination, throwing a barrage of punches. Jungkook dodged the first few easily, his movements fluid, then caught Kian’s wrist mid-punch with a grip like iron. For a second, they stood there, locked in place, the power struggle evident. Jungkook's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening just enough for Kian to wince.

Without warning, Kian yanked his arm free, pivoting low and sweeping Jungkook's legs out from under him. Jungkook hit the ground hard, but before Kian could press the advantage, Jungkook rolled out of reach, popping back up to his feet with the same effortless grace.

Kian charged again, this time aiming a vicious uppercut. Jungkook ducked just in time, feeling the brush of Kian’s fist pass over his hair. Jungkook countered immediately, his fist slamming into Kian’s gut with a dull thud that echoed in the pit. Kian grunted, staggering back a few steps, but he didn’t go down.

Jungkook didn’t let up. He stepped forward, driving his elbow into Kian’s side, a brutal strike that sent him stumbling to his knees. For a moment, Jungkook paused, chest rising and falling steadily, his eyes locked on Kian. It was like he was waiting — giving him a chance to get up, to fight back. There was no malice in his eyes, only dominance.

But Kian wasn’t finished. He sprang up, swinging wildly, desperate now. Jungkook blocked the punches with ease, his forearms absorbing the blows like they were nothing. When Kian threw a wild hook, Jungkook sidestepped, grabbed the back of his neck, and yanked him forward. They collided, chest to chest, Jungkook’s lips curling into a smirk as Kian struggled to free himself from his grip.

In one smooth motion, Jungkook twisted and slammed Kian to the ground, hard. Kian gasped, the wind knocked from his lungs as he hit the dirt with a heavy thud. Jungkook loomed over him, his knee pressing into Kian’s chest, pinning him in place. The fight was over — Jungkook didn’t need to say a word. His body, his presence, declared victory.

He stood slowly, letting Kian catch his breath, but his gaze never once wavered. He rolled his neck, muscles flexing as he looked down at his fallen opponent, then turned away without another glance.

Your heart sank, disappointment washing over you like a wave, leaving you breathless. Your wolf, however, was undeterred.

“He doesn’t even looked at us,” she sulked, her voice a mix of longing and frustration.

As you watched him turn away, the heat in your core only intensified as you unknowingly pressed your legs together. Your gaze lingered on his retreating figure, every step he took echoing in your chest. You couldn’t help but think of how strong he was, how much power he radiated, and how desperately you wanted to be close to him.

The combat pit was still bustling around you, but all you could see was Jungkook, the way he carried himself with a confidence that made your heart race. “Why won’t you look at me?” you thought, frustration bubbling within you as you watched him leave.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon in hues of orange and pink, you found yourself wandering back to your room. Shina escorted you, but you could sense her eagerness to leave as she still had to bath and wash away the sweat of training. After a brief goodbye, she left you alone, and the silence settled heavily around you.

At night dinner came and went, delivered by a maid who whisked in and out with a tray of food that you barely touched. The sheets cool against your skin felt nice, but sleep eluded you. Tossing and turning only brought frustration, and after hours of restless thoughts, you resigned yourself to the fact that tonight would be a long one.

With a deep sigh, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood, the cool floor grounding you. You stepped out into the empty halls of the palace, the quiet amplified by the vastness of the space. The air was thick with a stillness that made every sound seem sharper.

As you walked, your eyes drifted over the majestic paintings that adorned the walls. Each one was a reminder of the lineage that loomed over you. You paused before a portrait that caught your attention—a striking depiction of Jungkook’s father, the late Lycan king. His strong features were chiseled in a way that demanded respect, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness for Jungkook. He had lost so much at such a young age, thrust into a role that should have belonged to a father, a king. You could only imagine the weight of that responsibility, the expectations that came with it.

Taking a deep breath, you continued down the hallway. The corridor opened into the royal garden, where the moon hung high in the sky, casting silvery light over the landscape. You stepped outside, the cool night air wrapping around you like a soothing balm. The moon was full, its glow reflecting off the petals of the flowers and illuminating the leaves of the trees.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the serenity wash over you. This was the time when werewolves felt most connected to the world, to each other, to the wild magic that flowed through your veins. You could feel the pull of the moon, urging you to embrace your true nature.

As you gazed up at the night sky, a sense of calm enveloped you. The moon was a reminder that even in darkness, there was beauty to be found. You longed to share this moment with Jungkook, to let him see the side of you that yearned for love and understanding. The thought made your heart flutter, igniting a flicker of warmth within you.

“What brings you here?” The voice came from behind you, deep and resonant, causing you to turn around, startled. There he stood—Jungkook, the moonlight casting a silver halo around him. For the first time since you met, his expression was calm, devoid of the anger and confusion that usually clouded his features. In that moment, he looked almost ethereal, and you felt your heart race.

“Nothing,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “I wasn't able to sleep, so I was just wandering around and found myself here.” You shrugged, your hands fidgeting nervously at your sides.

He motioned for you to follow him, and without hesitation, you fell into step beside him. The soft crunch of gravel underfoot was the only sound accompanying the stillness of the night as he led you deeper into the garden, the fragrant scent of blooming flowers enveloping you both.

“It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” he asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Indeed, your majesty,” you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper. The night was enchanting, each star twinkling like diamonds against the velvet sky, but an unsettling feeling clung to you.

Suddenly, he halted, turning to face you, his gaze intense. His eyes widened slightly, and the soft pout of his lips drew your attention. “You can call me by my name; you’re my mate,” he stated, a hint of authority in his tone, as if there was no room for argument. Before you could respond, he resumed walking, leaving you momentarily stunned.

His words, sweet yet loaded with expectation, he himself was unable to fulfill, left a bitter taste in your mouth. A sharp retort bubbled on your tongue, a protest against the very idea that he could command you so easily. But instead of voicing your anger, you chose silence. You swallowed hard, forcing down the instinct to lash out. Instead, you fell in step behind him, your heart racing, a storm of emotions swirling inside you.

As you walked, the tension hung heavy in the air, a force that wrapped around you both. His broad shoulders were relaxed, yet you could sense the underlying power that radiated from him with each step. You stole glances at his profile, the way the moonlight danced along his sharp jawline, the faint shadow of stubble framing his lips.

You soon found Jungkook stopping, settling down on the soft grass beneath him. He motioned for you to join him, but you shook your head, a sudden shyness washing over you. “I can’t sit on the ground,” you said, gesturing toward your clothes. “It’s expensive.”

A flicker of confusion crossed his features. “What do you mean?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, his dark hair catching the moonlight.

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I come from a low pack. We don’t wear things like this,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never owned anything so fancy.”

For a moment, you braced yourself for his reaction, expecting him to laugh or make some snide remark. Instead, to your astonishment, he shrugged off his coat, laying it down on the grass. “Here,” he said, his voice steady. “Sit on this.” He extended his hand to you, palm up, inviting you to take it.

Your heart raced as you hesitated, then slowly placed your hand in his. A low, breathy moan escaped your lips as a tingling sensation flooded through your body. His eyes widened for a brief moment, and you could see the flicker of surprise before he masked it, helping you lower yourself onto his coat.

“It feels nice,” you murmured, your heart pounding. The warmth of his hand lingered in yours, and you didn’t want to let go. “Is it really okay?”

“It’s just a coat,” he replied, though the intensity in his gaze suggested otherwise. “I’d rather you be comfortable.”

You sat there for what felt like an eternity, the silence stretching between you. Finally, you decided to break it, curiosity nudging at you. “So… what’s it like being a king?” As soon as those words skipped your lips you internally cringed, this was embarassing, you wanted to take, but not like this.

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. There are expectations, duties—lots of politics.”

“Sounds boring,” you said, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Do you ever get to do anything fun?”

He smiled, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Occasionally. But mostly, I have to focus on the pack. It’s a lot of responsibility.” His tone turned serious, and you could see the weight of his role pressing down on him.

“Doesn’t it get lonely?” you asked, tilting your head, trying to gauge his reaction. “Being king and all, with so many people around but no one really understanding you?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted, looking away into the distance, his jaw tightening slightly. “But I have people I trust.”

You didn't said anything after that and a calming silence enveloped the two of you, as peaceful as the soft glow of the moonlight overhead. Unable to resist, you broke the stillness, once again. “Jungkook?”

“Hmmm?” His voice was low and gentle, his eyes fixed on the moon, reflecting a light that felt almost ethereal.

You hesitated, then spoke with a mix of hope and vulnerability. “Do you know… when I was young, I always dreamed of dancing under the moonlight with my mate.” You paused, gauging his reaction as the words hung in the air, thick and heavy. "Do you dance?" You couldn't help but ask as you braced yourself for the rejection.

His gaze shifted from the moon to you, and for a moment, the world around you faded into insignificance. “No,” he admitted softly, the vulnerability in his voice surprising you. But then he added, “But I might,” and something in his tone sent shivers down your spine, a hint of something deeper glimmering in his eyes.

Your heart raced as you felt a warmth blooming in your chest, something dark yet lovely igniting within you, making your pulse quicken. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension, and you couldn’t look away from him.

Without warning, he rose to his feet, extending his hand towards you. You smiled brightly, your heart soaring at the gesture, and without hesitation, you grasped his hand. The familiar tingling sensation surged through your body, igniting a warmth that spread from your fingertips to your core.

“Come on,” he murmured, his voice low and inviting, and you felt your breath hitch as you stood beside him. He gently pulled you closer, his other hand resting lightly on your waist, guiding you into a slow sway.

But as the dance slowed, reality crept back in, and he gently pulled away, his hand still clasped around yours. “I should escort you back to your room,” he said, his tone shifting back to that of the king, though the warmth in his gaze lingered.

You nodded, a hint of reluctance creeping in. “I guess it’s late,” you replied, your heart still racing from the dance.

As you walked side by side, the silence was comfortable. Jungkook led you back through the garden. When you reached your door, he turned to face you, his expression softening once more. “Goodnight,” he said, a hint of something deeper in his voice.

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” you replied, you wanted to reach out, to pull him back, but instead, you simply smiled.

As you closed the door, you made your way to the bed, a soft sigh escaping your lips. The cool sheets felt inviting against your skin as you slipped under the covers, your heart still racing from the dance and the fleeting touches. You closed your eyes, as you smiled softly. Maybe, just maybe everything was finally falling back to it's place. You were not to lie, you liked Jungkook and mate bond was thickening every second every minute, it was only strengthening your feelings and was making you more vulnerable to him. And, who are you to deny the truth that you desperately needed that doe eyed king. You let your thoughts drift, a soft smile spreading across your face. In the quiet of your dreams, you found him again, lost in a world where he was as desperate for you as you were for him. You dream of him, you dream of him dreaming you as desperately as you were dreaming of him.

In the middle of the night, you jolted awake. The room around you glowed with dancing shadows, moonlight slipping through the curtains like whispers, casting silver patterns on the walls. You blinked, it was past midnight and you were unable to go back to sleep.

Cocooned in warm sheets, you took a deep breath, the scent of something sweet and salty wrapping around you like a gentle embrace.

You quietly slipped out of bed, the soft pad of your feet brushing against the cool floor. For a moment, you stood frozen, unsure of what to do, scanning the darkness that enveloped you. Your instincts kicked in, sharpening your senses as you stepped out of your room, the shadows swallowing you whole. Each step felt instinctual, as if an invisible thread tugged at your heart, beckoning you forward. It was a magnetic pull, calling your name, compelling you to follow like a desperate devotee.

Suddenly, you heard a low murmur. It was coming from a room. You hesitated, knowing you shouldn’t intrude, but that voice broke something inside you. With trembling hands, you slowly opened the door, and the sight before you shattered your heart.

There lay Jungkook on his bed, thrashing about, his face twisted in distress as he murmured incoherent whispers. His brow was furrowed, and his lips trembled, as if he was fighting against some unseen torment. You didn't even realised you had come all the way to price chamber. You rushed to his side, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Jungkook,” you called softly, reaching out to gently shake him. “Wake up.”

His eyes flew open, wide and confused, the fear in them piercing through the haze of his nightmares. For a brief moment, shock flickered across his face, and then he froze, taking in your presence.

“Why are you here?” he rasped, his voice hoarse and raw.

“I heard you,” you whispered, your heart racing.

"What were you doing tiptoeing around my room?" He practically screamed screamed at you, pushing you away.

"N—no. I—I wasn't," you said, shaking your head trying to reach out to him.

Anger flashing in his eyes. “You think you can just come in here and play the savior?”

“Jungkook, what? What are you even say? I just wanted to help!” you pleaded, stepping closer, desperate to reach him.

“Help? You think you can help? You think you’re the solution to my problems?” he sneered, his expression hardening. “I hate you! You think this is love? I will ever love you? Never!”

The pain in his words felt like a physical blow. “That’s not fair!” you cried, your voice shaking. “I’m not trying to intrude. I just want to—!”

"I don't care," he growled, glaring at you, his fists clenched at his sides. “You think you can understand what it’s like to be me? To have everyone around you suffer because of your existence?”

You felt your heart sink further, but you were unable to understand his words. It was like they were written in a foreign language and although you did know the alphabets, were unable to make sense of a whole sentence. “I’m not trying to do anything! I’m here because I care about you!”

“Care? Is that what you call this?” he shouted, his voice rising with frustration as a low whimper left your throat. “Oh! Sweet mate, do you really think a weak voice and sad eyes would help you? Do you think you get to be all fragile now?”

Tears stung your eyes as you fought to hold them back. “But I merely intended to help!” you insisted, desperate for him to see the truth. “You don’t have to push me away!”

“Why would I want you around?” he hissed, his gaze piercing through you. “You’re nothing but a reminder of everything I can’t have, everything I shouldn't have, and I’m here to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

With each word, your heart broke a little more, the weight of his rejection crushing you. “I thought... I thought we, toge—,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Together?” he echoed, his voice dripping with scorn. “You think that’s what this is? You’re wrong! The moon goddess has cursed you, and now you have to deal with it."

"But—"

"Leave!”

Without another word, you dashed down the hall, the world around you blurring as you pushed the door to your room open and locked it behind you. Sliding down against the cool wood, you let the tears flow freely. You couldn’t believe this was happening. For years, you had dreamed of having a mate. After losing your parents at such a young age, you had felt all alone. Life had been hard, but the thought of having someone to love, cherish, and adore had kept you going. But how had it all come to this? After praying to the moon goddess for years, you finally had a mate, and he didn’t want you. Was it true what your pack members always said? Were you really cursed? Were you really destined to be nothing but an abomination?

Now, it felt like you truly were cursed and unlovable, an abomination. You called out to your wolf, reaching for her, but she felt so distant, drowning in the loss of a mate she never really had. Jungkook’s words echoed in your mind, and the pain of his rejection was nothing compared to the hollow ache of losing your wolf.

“Please,” you begged again, your voice cracking, but silence filled the empty corners of your mind. A shrill sob escaped your throat, a sound of desperation and grief. You cried, each sob tearing through you as you let the waves of sorrow wash over you. You cried until you couldn’t anymore, until your tears ran dry, and exhaustion pulled you under like a heavy blanket.

Finally, the weight of it all became too much, and you fell into a deep slumber, your heart still aching but momentarily free from the torment of reality.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

"Bee." A soft voice pulled you out of the fog of sleep, nudging you back to consciousness. You groaned as the sunlight filtered through the window, the brightness bouncing off the walls and stabbing your eyes like tiny needles. You turned your head away with a low whine, squeezing your eyes shut tighter against the overwhelming light.

"Bee?" The voice was closer now, more insistent. You blinked your eyes open reluctantly and saw Shina crouched beside you. Concern was etched deeply into her face, her brows furrowed, lips pressed in a thin line. Her hand reached out, gently gripping your arm, and she slowly helped you sit up from the cold floor.

"Why were you sleeping on the floor?" she asked, her voice gentle, though her worry was unmistakable. Her eyes, wide and searching, bore into yours, trying to find an answer you weren’t ready to give.

You blinked at Shina, still dazed, feeling like you were floating in a fog. The memory of last night twisted in your chest, squeezing tighter with every second that passed. His words, so sharp and cold, cut through you again, making it hard to breathe. You had tried to push them away, but the hurt clung to you, pulling you down.

"Bee, what happened?" Shina asked again, her voice low but urgent, her grip on your arm growing tighter. Her eyes searched yours, wide with worry, but you could barely meet them. You tried to speak, to say anything, but your throat was tight, and the pressure behind your eyes made your vision blur. She was so close, her concern so raw and real, that it only made you feel more fragile. You felt like you could break at any moment.

The weight of it all pressed down on you—her worry, the memory of his cruelty—and you felt the tears threaten to spill over. You blinked them away quickly, refusing to let them fall, and forced yourself to speak.

"I'm okay," you murmured, though your voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. It wavered, weak and uncertain, but you straightened your shoulders, trying to sound firm. Shina's eyes softened, her lips parting as if she wanted to argue, but she held back. Instead, she nodded, though you could tell she didn’t believe a word.

"Right..." she said, clearing her throat. "Ahrm, I came to call you for breakfast." She tried to sound cheerful, but there was a hesitancy in her voice, the usual bounce missing.

"Breakfast?" you repeated, like the word itself didn’t make sense.

"Yeah," she nodded, motioning toward the bathroom. "You should get ready."

"Oh." You nodded slowly, as if on autopilot, and grabbed the yellow dress sitting on the edge of the bed. Shina had bought it for you, and you knew it meant something, but the significance felt distant now. Your body moved without thought, heading to the bathroom like it was just another day.

Inside, you let the water run hot, scalding almost, trying to feel something other than the ache that had settled deep in your chest. The steam wrapped around you, clouding your vision, but it couldn’t chase away the storm swirling in your head.

When you finally stepped out, Shina was waiting, her smile soft but cautious. “Bee, you look pretty,” she said, handing you a small box wrapped in delicate paper.

You took it, staring blankly at the box in your hand. "What’s this?"

"Jungkook asked me to give it to you." Her eyes flickered with something—excitement, maybe—but you weren’t sure. You nodded, barely acknowledging her as you tossed the box onto the bed without a second glance.

"I’m not opening it," you said flatly, your voice cold and distant.

Shina hesitated, her lips parting to say something, but she closed them quickly, offering a half-hearted nod. "Okay... Let's go."

The walk to the dining hall was quiet, too quiet. Shina glanced at you from time to time, but you were lost in your thoughts, diving deep into the darkness that had settled in your heart. Last night had been a dream—Jungkook had been so kind, so sweet, so real. For the first time, you had believed there might be a chance. But the way he had pushed you away so harshly afterward… it shattered everything.

“Bee, this way,” Shina said, guiding you through the doors and into the hall. The massive dining table stretched out before you, with Jungkook seated at the far end. His eyes were focused on his plate, avoiding your gaze entirely. Kian sat beside him, his arm casually dropped over the table. The other seats filled quickly with Neil, Patricia, and several others you barely registered.

Shina nudged you gently into the seat beside Jungkook, her smile forced, trying to ease the tension. "Come on, Bee. It’s just breakfast. Nothing too dramatic, right?" She chuckled awkwardly, but it fell flat in the heavy air. She glanced at Kian, who gave her a small, supportive smile, but you could tell even she felt the weight of Jungkook’s presence, of his silence.

You sat stiffly, your back straight, eyes locked on the table in front of you. Jungkook’s hand gripped his fork tightly, knuckles white, but he never looked your way. Not once.

Shina, trying to break the ice, leaned forward. "Bee," she started, forcing a grin, "Why don't you try pancakes? It's really good. Right, Kian?" She wiggled her eyebrows at Kian, trying to coax a smile out of you.

You glanced at her, offering a weak, polite smile, but your heart wasn’t in it.

Kian smirked, shaking his head. "Yes, this beautiful beside me loves pancakes!."

Jungkook’s fork clinked against his plate, the subtle sound sharper than it should’ve been. His jaw clenched, and for a second, his gaze flickered to you, something raw and almost vulnerable flashing in his eyes before he quickly looked away.

You felt the knot in your throat tighten, but you swallowed it down, refusing to let it show. There was no apology, no acknowledgment, just silence.

"Bee?" Shina’s voice broke through the fog, her hand gently resting on yours under the table. Her touch was warm, grounding you in the moment.

You blinked, shaking your head slightly. "Yeah?"

"Do you want me to take you out after breakfast? You know, just the two of us? We can talk... or not talk, whatever you want."

Jungkook’s shoulders tensed, his breath catching for just a second. But still, he said nothing.

You met Shina’s eyes, her genuine worry for you reflected in them. You gave a small nod, even though your chest felt heavy. "Yeah, sure. I’d love that," you whispered, your voice barely holding together.

Jungkook shifted beside you, his fork clattering against the plate as he finally spoke. "You guys should probably go out. Take Patricia with you too." His voice was steady, but cold, distant. He still didn’t look at you, directing his words toward Shina.

A bitter laugh slipped from your lips before you could stop it. The sound made him go rigid, though he still wouldn’t meet your eyes. It was ridiculous, really, how he could be so close yet feel so unreachable.

Breakfast ended in uncomfortable silence. You stood up quietly, your chair scraping the floor as you excused yourself. Jungkook’s eyes followed your movement for a fleeting moment, but when you looked back, they were fixed on his plate again.

Alone, you made your way back to your room, each step feeling heavier than the last. You lingered by the window, staring out at the world beyond. It was strange—Jungkook suggesting you go out, as if it made any difference. As if letting you walk through town would somehow patch the holes he left in you.

But of course, he didn’t care. He made that clear last night.

A knock echoed through your room, loud against the silence, snapping you from your thoughts. Reluctantly, you crossed the room and opened the door to find a man in a black uniform standing there, his posture rigid.

"His Majesty has assigned me to escort you outside the palace, for your protection.," he said with no introduction, his tone all business. The man was imposing—broad-shouldered, with a no-nonsense expression. He didn’t waste time on pleasantries. "Please, come. Beta female is already waiting."

You nodded, not really knowing what else to do, and followed as he motioned for you to walk beside him. His steps were measured, precise, and soon you were outside, seated in a car heading who knew where. Kenji, as you later learned his name was, drove with Shina beside him, her usual chatty demeanor subdued, while Patricia sat next to you in silence.

"Kenji, stop by The Velvet Pheasant," Shina said, her voice firm but distracted, not even glancing at him.

"Sure, beta female," he replied, his deep voice steady as he turned the wheel. The car came to a smooth halt outside an extravagant boutique, the kind that screamed prestige from the way it gleamed in the afternoon sun. The building’s grand façade loomed over you, polished and perfect, and you felt a wave of reluctance wash over you.

Stepping out of the car, Patricia told Kenji to wait outside, and he responded with a curt nod and a surprisingly warm gummy smile. You followed the girls inside, feeling the cool air hit you as soon as you entered. An older woman rushed toward Shina with surprising speed, her arms flung wide for an embrace.

"Shina, you’ve completely forgotten about me. Don't come to visit aunt anymore" the woman cried, clutching Shina tightly. "I haven’t seen you in ages! I even asked your mother, and she just said, 'Oh, you know Shina is busy these days.' Busy, huh?"

Shina stiffened in the woman’s arms, her face scrunched up in what could only be described as pure agony. You stifled a laugh but quickly regretted it as the woman released Shina and turned toward you and Patricia, her sharp eyes locking onto you.

Before you could react, Patricia shoved you forward and darted toward Shina, leaving you in the crosshairs. The old woman’s grip was strong, pulling you into a hug that felt more like a bear trap than a greeting. You could hear the two girls giggling behind you as they escaped her clutches, leaving you alone at her mercy.

For what felt like hours, you were trapped in a whirlwind of fabric, as Shina and Patricia pulled you from one section of the boutique to another. Dresses, shoes, accessories—Shina practically bought the whole store for you, her way of making the day brighter despite everything.

As the sun began to set, you all piled back into the car, exhaustion settling in. Kenji, who had been nothing but stoic all day, had softened slightly, sharing small bits of conversation with you along the ride. He was one of the royal warriors, you found out—highly respected, and one of the deadliest. Yet, despite his fearsome reputation, there was a kindness to him that you hadn't expected. You also found out that he was yet to find his mate.

The drive back to the palace felt quieter, more solemn, and the closer you got, the heavier your chest became. The fun you’d had during the day was slowly slipping away, replaced by the cold reality of where you were heading. You stared out the window, watching the world outside blur past, feeling the tightness return to your throat.

As the palace gates came into view, you couldn’t help but sigh, the happiness from earlier fading entirely. You didn’t want to go back. You didn’t want to face him again.

But you had no choice.

The car rolled to a stop, and with a deep breath, you stepped out, the weight of the palace settling back on your shoulders.

You stepped out of the car, the weight of the day pressing down on you. The girls had already been swept up by their mates, leaving you alone with Kenji, who gently helped you with the bags. His kind smile softened the growing pit in your stomach, but even Kenji, as sweet as he was, kept his distance. When you reached your room, he handed you the bags, his hands lingering for only a moment before he stepped back, eyes cast down.

"I can’t enter," he said, almost shy. "It’s not right to be alone with an unmated she-wolf."

You nodded, appreciating the respect, even though it only reminded you of your isolation. “Thank you, Kenji,” you murmured.

He gave a small wave before disappearing down the hall, leaving you to the quiet hum of your empty room. The door clicked shut behind you, sealing the silence.

You tossed the bags onto the bed, your eyes drifting over to the box you’d been avoiding all day. That damn purple-wrapped box. With a sigh, you grabbed it, tearing off the wrapper without care. Inside, nestled in velvet, was a delicate heart-shaped necklace, the same shade of purple that always reminded you of him.

But instead of the warmth it once might have brought, a bitter taste rose in your throat. He thought this would fix everything. That after the things he said, the coldness he showed, a necklace could make it all go away? Your fingers tightened around it until your knuckles turned white. The bastard knew—he knew—how much it meant to you when you told him you’d never owned anything expensive. And now, it felt like a cruel joke, like he was throwing your words back in your face.

Without thinking, you stormed out of the room, the necklace clenched in your fist. Your feet carried you down the long corridors to his chambers, each step fueled by the fire burning in your chest. You didn’t care who saw you, or how fast you were moving. You just needed to see him, to confront him.

As you reached his door, hand raised to knock, the sound of voices froze you in place.

"No," Jungkook’s voice boomed from behind the door, the rage in his tone making your breath catch. "I refuse to be tied to her. I didn’t choose this. I don’t love her. I don’t want any of it."

The necklace almost slipped from your grip, the metal cutting into your palm as your heart cracked.

"You need to understand, Kian," Jungkook continued, voice harsher now, "I’m not willing to do this."

"But even the elders want this," Kian replied, his voice softer, almost pleading. "Today, you were lucky she wasn’t here, but how long can you really hide her from the world? One day, you’ll have to accept her."

"Never," Jungkook spat, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

Kian's next words were too quiet to make out, but they were followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps heading toward the door. Panic surged through you, but before you could move, the door swung open.

There he was, standing before you—Jungkook. His face paled when he saw your tear-streaked cheeks, his eyes widening in shock. His lips parted as if to say something, but the words died in his throat.

He reached out, the apology already forming on his tongue, but you didn’t wait to hear it.

Without a second thought, you hurled the necklace at his chest, the metal clinking as it hit him and fell to the floor between you. His eyes flicked to the necklace, then back to you, his expression one of helpless guilt.

But you didn’t wait for an explanation. Your feet carried you away, heart pounding, vision blurred by tears. You didn’t stop until the corridor twisted out of sight, and even then, the weight of his words echoed in your mind, breaking you all over again.

As soon as you got to your room, you sank to the ground, your body trembling as you wrapped your arms around your knees. Hot tears streamed down your face, each sob tearing through you like a knife. A different ache settled in your heart, a hollow emptiness that expanded with every breath you took, leaving you feeling more lost and abandoned than ever.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Jungkook sat rigidly in the chair beside the window, the moonlight spilling over him like a soft embrace, illuminating the sharp lines of his jaw and the furrow in his brow. Shadows danced across his face, mirroring the chaos swirling within him. He stared out into the darkness, eyes unfocused, lost in thoughts he couldn’t bear to confront. The silence in the room was suffocating, thick with unspoken words. A soft knock broke through, and he turned slightly, his voice devoid of emotion. “Come in.”

Kian stepped inside, his usual calm demeanor replaced by an unsettling gloom that weighed on him like a storm cloud. He crossed the room slowly and settled into the chair beside Jungkook. The air thickened with the weight of their unspoken fears.

“What brings you here, Kian?” Jungkook asked, his tone flat, gaze still trapped in the shimmering night sky. He could feel Kian’s eyes on him, probing, searching for answers.

“Why would you do that, Jungkook?” Kian’s voice trembled, breaking the stillness like a fragile glass shattering. He leaned forward, his brow knitted in worry. “why are you doing this? How could you sit here like this? Like nothing happened? She is your mate. You can’t just push her away like that. That’s not how things work, especially not with a mate bond.”

At the mention of you, Jungkook’s gaze snapped to Kian, sharp and defensive. The flicker of vulnerability quickly masked by anger. “What about her?” he demanded, an edge creeping into his voice, the tension coiling tighter in his chest.

“Shina told me Luna has been crying since evening.” Kian’s words were low, heavy with concern, sinking into Jungkook like stones in water. A silence enveloped them, punctuated only by Jungkook’s ragged breaths, as the gravity of Kian’s words settled in.

“Why?” Jungkook found himself asking, the question slipping out before he could stop it, though they both knew the answer. A suffocating heaviness settled in his chest, a mix of guilt and soul crushing swirling within him like a tempest.

“Jungkook, why not just accept the bond? Why—” Kian started, but Jungkook cut him off, frustration bubbling over. He ran a hand through his hair, eyes glinting with an intensity that betrayed his inner turmoil.

“She scares me, Kian,” Jungkook admitted, his voice tight, his jaw clenching as he turned away again. “She’s everything I—” He stopped himself abruptly, the words hanging in the air, unfinished. His fists clenched on his lap, the muscles in his arms tensing as he fought to maintain control.

“What?” Kian pressed, leaning forward, desperate to understand. “Everything you what, Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s face hardened, eyes darkening as the vulnerability retreated behind the walls he had carefully constructed. “Forget it,” he snapped, his voice cold. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Kian shook his head, frustration boiling beneath the surface. He leaned closer, his voice growing intense. “Love hurts above all, but we must never cease to do it. It’s painful, but you can’t run from it, Jungkook.”

“Love?” Jungkook scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping him, but it sounded hollow. “It’s not meant for me, Kian. I hurt everyone. I’m my father’s son, after all.” He leaned back, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, shutting himself off from Kian’s words.

“You’re not him,” Kian insisted, leaning forward, voice filled with passion. “You’re not your father, and she isn’t your mother. She won’t leave, and you won’t end up like him. Jungkook, don’t let bad memories of past ruin the possibilities of your future.” He reached out, almost as if to touch Jungkook’s arm, but hesitated, sensing the emotional wall between them.

“That’s the problem with memories, Kian,” Jungkook said, his voice dropping to a whisper, eyes darkening. “They never go away. They stay with you, and they eat you alive. I can’t forget, and I can’t love.” His words were cold, final, as if sealing his fate.

Kian’s frustration boiled over, his hands clenched into fists as he tried once more. “It’s not just about you, Jungkook. It’s about her too. You can’t keep pushing her away—”

“Leave, Kian,” Jungkook said, his voice sharp, commanding. His back straightened, the gesture almost regal, but the pain behind his eyes betrayed him.

“But Alpha—” Kian’s protest faded as he sensed the finality in Jungkook’s tone. He sat back, his shoulders slumping, disappointment and worry etched into his features.

“I said leave,” Jungkook repeated, turning his back to Kian, the room growing colder as the shadows deepened around him. The moonlight faded into darkness, mirroring the hollow ache in Jungkook’s heart.

Kian stood up slowly, his shoulders sagging with the weight of the conversation. He glanced back at Jungkook, his face tight with concern. “I just hope you don’t regret this, Alpha,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a note of finality. Without waiting for a response, Kian walked to the door, the soft click of it closing behind him echoing in the heavy silence left in his wake.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

"Luna, for how long will you keep crying like this?" Shina's voice was gentle, laced with concern as she knelt beside you, offering a plate of food. She watched as you stared blankly at the untouched meal. Tears streamed down your cheeks, an endless waterfall that had begun with the dawn.

“Please, eat something,” she urged softly, but you could only shake your head, the words lodged in your throat like a stone.

“Why? Can’t he just accept the bond, Shina? Why?” Your voice cracked. Frustration bubbled within you, mingling with the heartache that had you feeling hollow.

Shina placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged it off, the gesture feeling too heavy to bear. “Please leave, Shina,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

She hesitated, searching your face for a glimmer of hope, but all she found were shadows of despair. “No matter how much love you give to a bird with broken wings, it won’t ever make it believe it can fly,” she said, her voice quiet yet firm, her eyes filled with empathy. “And even if it did, isn’t it just death, Luna?”

Her words wrapped around you like a cold shroud, leaving you confused and raw. You opened your mouth to respond, but the weight of her statement silenced you. She rose slowly, the sadness in her eyes mirrored by the heaviness in the air, before she turned and walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You stared at the food plate, your heart aching with the reality of it all. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in as you fought to suppress the next wave of tears. Each breath felt like a struggle, the silence around you amplifying the sorrow that threatened to drown you.

Okay, so first of all, if you’ve made it this far, wow, congrats on surviving whatever mess I just threw your way. I mean, let's be honest, this is probably one of the most questionable things you've ever had the misfortune of reading. And for that, I truly, sincerely apologize—well, kinda.

But hey, if you're sitting there thinking, "Wow, this is absolute garbage," you're not alone. I get it. I hated it too. So, feel free to tell me just how much you despised every single word of it. I mean, go on, rip it apart. I'm mentally prepared...sort of. Probably. Okay, not really. But let's pretend I am, and we can bond over how truly awful this was. Thanks for sticking around, though. You're a champ.

Taglist @freyaniobe @piercidh34rts @furioustrashlover @lola75111 @pitchblack0309 @whoa-jo @teeheewhy13 @gojoscumslut @emanyd @sassy-snassy @jksusawife @nnnnmmmuuiu @jiminismine4ever @runariya @btspurplesky

#kookiewithluv #bts ffs #bts ff #bts fanfic #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fiction #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #Ashes of Promises #jungkook bts #jeon jungguk #jungkook #jeon jungkoooook #jungkook jeon #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook bangtan

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yoonieper · 6 months ago

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For the Birds Masterlist | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

♡ Genre: angst, fluff, smut, this is a slow burn!

♡ Spotify |◁ Playlist (feel free to recommend songs!) ▷| Apple Music

♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation! Please read with caution ⚠️!

♡ Key: ❁ fluff | ❅ angst | ❥ smut

⚠️ This series contains depictions of possibly triggering topics such as dealing with symptoms of depression. Any chapters that could be especially triggering, will be marked with the emoji at the beginning!

Before you start…

For the Birds Aesthetics

The Contract (Important!)

Prologue | ❅, ❥

Part 1 | ❅, ❥

Part 2 | ❅

Part 3 | ❅, ❥

Part 4 | ❅, ❥

Part 5 | ❅, ❥

Part 6– Coming September 15th

Part 7– Coming September 30th

Part 8– Coming October 15th

Part 9– Coming October 30th

Part 10– Coming November 15th

Part 11– Coming November 30th

Part 12– Coming January 15th

Part 13– Coming January 30th

More Coming Soon After a Small Intermission!

*Note these dates may be subject to change— currently the prologue through part 13 has been completed. However depending on holidays, other fic postings, or life events that might come in the way, the dates may vary slightly. In general though 'For the Birds' will be posted bimonthly, once in the middle of the month and a second time at the end of the month. For specifics, I will post announcements letting you guys know about any change and also will edit the date on the masterlist!

Asks related to For the Birds

For other works and updates regarding the series please follow and refer to my masterlist!

#for the birds masterlist #bts #jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fan fiction #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

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teenagedream21 · 4 months ago

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masterlist

° JUNGKOOK °

(fluff)

Vessel of love

Munch

Heartbreak veterans

(angst)

Pulling at your heartstrings

Some way, Some how

Chewie & choco boy

(smut)

Voice kink

Foursome

Come here I´m your paradise

simply.cute97

Neighbor

Center of attention

White

Magic stick

NSFW alphabet

(series)

The ghost of us p.1 p.2

BunBun

Our Time

Rough Edges

Gamer boy

(masterlist)

DreamEscapes

Smoljimjim

Kjhmyg

7ndipidad

badbtssumt

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hellbornsworld · 1 year ago

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JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(5) ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡

⁀➷ everlasting | Jungkook X Reader | reincarnation Au | @kimvvantae

⁀➷ photograph you in this light | Jungkook X Reader | Short | @yoongiphoria

⁀➷ Rabid: the beginning | Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!Reader | Series | @bonny-kookoo

⁀➷ angels & airwaves | gamer!jjk x named f!reader | Series | @yeojaa

⁀➷ bands | Idol!JK X Stripper!Reader | Series | @xpeachesncream

⁀➷ The Dark Prince | Prince!Jungkook X Caretaker! freader | Series | @jkeuphoriadreamland

⁀➷ wartime child | Jungkook X Reader | wizard au | @ktheist

⁀➷ Your Head | Royalty!Jungkook x Peasant!Reader | OneShot | @kookiecrumb

⁀➷ Seat of Power | ceo!jungkook x reader | Political Au | Series | @ctrlsht

⁀➷ l’aquelarre | witch!jungkook x human!reader | Oneshot | @venusjeon

⁀➷ Authority | Solider!Jungkook X Married!Reader | Oneshot | @jungk0oksthighs

⁀➷ The Deepest Marks of Essence | Yandere!Jungkook X Reader | Oneshot | @lleldey

⁀➷ Bad Habits | Psycho!JK X Reader | @bonny-kookoo

⁀➷ Suddenly | Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!Reader | Drabble | @kookiecrumb

⁀➷ sᴇx ᴛʜᴇʀᴀᴘɪsᴛ | sex therapist!jk X Reader | Series | @koos-euphoria

⁀➷ Euphoria | Jungkook x reader | TimeTravel Au | @btssavedmylifeblr

⁀➷ the water is alive | himbo!jk x water nymph!oc | Oneshot | @venusiangguk

⁀➷ boy's a liar | Jungkook X Reader | Oneshot | @wnderkoo

⁀➷ glass of wine | Jungkook X Reader | Threeshot | @dark-villian

⁀➷ your innocence is mine | Jungkook X Virgin!Reader | Oneshot | @flowerprincesscherryblossom

⁀➷ regular | film major!jungkook x convenience store worker!y/n | oneshot | @ttttaehyungie

⁀➷ Show off | CEO!JK X Reader | oneshot | @borathae

⁀➷ Once Upon a Bracelet | Prince Jungkook x Sorceress Reader | Fantasy Au | @ladyartemesia

⁀➷ 200mph | JK X Reader | @aechawrites

⁀➷ Love's Swing and A Miss | Jungkook x Reader | Oneshot | @miraclesatnightfall

⁀➷ Bunny Boy | Yandere!JK X Reader | @bonny-kookoo

⁀➷ something in the heir | knight!jungkook x palace woman!reader | Oneshot | @hisunshiine

⁀➷ Go to hell | FootBall Player!JK X Reader | Oneshot | @bangtanficsforyou

⁀➷ Red Light: The Fear | GymOwner!JK/MotoRacer!JK/Biker!JK X TattoArtist!OC | Series | @bunnybubae

⁀➷ last to know | EX-Husband JK X Reader | Divorce Au | Series | @mangowillow

⁀➷ faith | rockstar!jungkook x novice!reader | 80s Au | Drabble | @venusjeon

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹˚. ♡

𝒥𝒰𝒩𝒢𝒦𝒪𝒪𝒦 𝐹𝐼𝒞 𝑅𝐸𝒞 𝑀𝒜𝒮𝒯𝐸𝑅𝐿𝐼𝒮𝒯

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ldysmfrst · 8 months ago

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American Mate - (4)

First Case of Alpha Space

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 4 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 4,731

Work count for Story: 17,363

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 which is special needs, and on 3/28, they lost 75% of their vision. I have had to take time off work to accommodate many MANY doctor appointments. I started a Ko-fi if you feel the heart to donate towards helping with the medical costs of appointments, medication, and modifications to the house, which insurance doesn't cover.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, Panic attacks, comfort, Alpha Space, and Cultural differences.

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

Is it really that big of a deal that you got hurt? My god, you were 35 already. You have never lived a sheltered life. You have had your fair share of broken bones, twisted ankles, scrapes, and bruises.

You are always going on adventures, riding horses, and climbing things you probably should not be climbing. Most of the external scars you bear are associated with stories that are good conversation starters when you feel like showing them.

Things would be difficult for a while because you are undeniably right-handed. You have a few days of sick time saved up that you can use to start with. Hopefully, this will help you gain some compliance from your wayward left hand.

Work, however, is going to be the hard part. Luckily, your work is typically done on electronics, meaning nothing has to be handwritten. Even if you tried to write left-handed, no one could read it. You would bet money doctors had better handwriting skills than your left hand did in its pinky. Dictation software to save the day!

Hearing Derek’s voice broke you out of your thoughts regarding your near future. Watching him act cautiously while interacting with the other hybrid was interesting. There is clearly a difference in how he acts with Yoongi than with Evie.

Giggling to yourself at the mention of being a mate with Derek gains the attention of both. Shaking your head, you explain, “Oh, sorry. The thought of being a mate, much less to Derek, was amusing, I guess.”

You missed the slight frown that briefly graced both men’s faces. Derek thought you were implying he wasn’t mate-material, and Yoongi thought you believed you were not worthy of being a mate.

“Thanks, Y/n. I let you know that I am a catch despite being a Beta. Besides, this isn’t about me right now. We need to get the leadership involved with what to do moving forward. Are you okay if we bring in the others?”

“Yes, please. I need to speak with Director Johnson, fill out an incident report… um or dictate an incident report, and then get to a doctor,” you agree. Attempting to stand up, you are blocked by the golden-yellow eyes that have not stopped watching your every move.

“Mr. Min, I need to get some things done and take care of my wrist,” you say with a hint of confusion because you know he knows that you need medical attention, but he isn’t letting you.

Yoongi’s eyes narrow, and a soft growl pours through the room, causing your eyes to widen. You look over your shoulder at Derek with a ‘what-the-F-did-I-do’ expression, only to be met with a smirk.

“Y/n, I don’t think you understand what is going on. You haven’t dealt with a situation like this before. You may love hybrids, but you still have limited interactions with our culture and this dynamic.” Walking backward toward the door, Derek continues, “With the state of mind that Mr. Min is in, it might be best if a packmate of his explains.”

Derek opens the break room door to face Hoseok, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jungkook, all staring. “Oh, Hi there.”

Then, as if someone had turned the mute off, they all started talking simultaneously.

“Is Yoongi-hyung dropped yet?”

“그 사람 괜찮아요?”

“Why does she still smell hurt?”

“Wait, wait, wait, please,” Derek puts his hands up, motioning to stop. "I do not know Korean, for one, and for two, Mr. Min has gone into full nonverbal Alpha Space, and I am not sure he will be coming out of it anytime soon. However, one of you should go in to handle the situation, and Y/n needs to talk with Director Johnson.”

At the mention of the director, a low growl came from Taehyung, causing Derek to take a step back and lower his eyes in an automatic response to a displeased Alpha.

The scent of calming leather gently flows over the group at the door as Namjoon steps forward. His mind is still reeling a million miles a second with you being their mate and you being injured. To top it off, Yoongi is on a deep level of Alpha Space.

“Sorry about that. I can come in, but the director is busy at the moment. He is dealing with the Playmates, your corporate office, and Manager Sejin,” apologizes Namjoon as he enters the room.

He follows Derek to where his packmate and Y/n are situated at a table. Taehyung and Jungkook follow quickly, sneaking in before the door closes all the way. They both kneel respectfully behind Yoongi. Their Alphas recognize that Yoongi is currently in charge of you, and it would be unwise to display anything that could be considered a threat by approaching you too quickly.

They both need to be close to you, and their instincts to be with their newly discovered but injured mate drive their actions. Looking you over for injuries, their eyes resting on your wrist with furrowed brows and set jaws. Taehyung’s eyes change to crystal blue as his tail flickers almost in time with Yoongi’s as he slips into Alpha Space.

“Namjoon-hyung, Miss Y/n is hurt. She needs a hospital, I think,” Jungkook says, his ears standing straight up on his head, one-pointedly focused on you and the other twitching between his Prime Alpha and the door.

“It is not that big of an issue, Mr. Jeon, Mr. Min, and Mr. Kim.” Looking up from the trio in front of you and addressing the Prime Alpha, “Sir, I have specific protocols to follow due to company procedure. I must talk with the Director.”

A growl from one of the men in front of you freezes your words, unsure of what you did to cause their reactions. Internally, you groan because it seems all you get from them are growls as if you vex them more than humanly possible.

“Miss Y/n, we have already talked to Director Johnson,” Namjoon says with a look of distaste.

“He has been informed that you are now under the care of Bangtan Pack following hybrid customs,” Namjoon says. "It would be wise to refrain from talking about him at the moment; he did not leave a good impression with the pack.”

Your brows scrunch in confusion, making the hybrids want to coo at your cute face. Clearing his throat (aka his mind), Namjoon continues, “We have more pressing matters to attend to besides paperwork.”

“You are injured, and we have to get you to a doctor. Manager Sejin is currently contacting one of our personal physicians that we normally use while on tour to have you treated.”

“What? Why would I use your doctor? I can just go to the local clinic,” you quick question. Your scent spikes almost like a heavy perfume with anxiety with the flashbacks of your nightmare.

“Please, I have taken up much of your time, and caused enough problems as it is. I can take care of myself. I don’t want to be a bother,” you plead.

At your words, you are surrounded by multiple growls and watched by now golden-yellow, crystal blue, and smokey gray eyes. Scooting back in the chair as if the quarter inch gained would save you, you nervously ask, “Derek, what did I do?”

“Y/n, you really don’t get it do you? For as smart as you are, sometimes you can be oblivious,” Derek scoffs teasingly. Smiling, he shakes his head, stepping back from the group and heading towards the door. “Mr. Kim, as Prime Alpha, you might want to explain what is happening and what she should be expecting. Mind you, she has been fiercely independent for the last 15 years of her life.”

“I wish you the best with her. It won’t be easy, trust me, I know. Good luck,” says Derek as he bows slightly to Namjoon once he reaches the break room door.

Looking at you again, this time with a smile filled with adoration for his best friend and what he thinks your future may hold, Derek says, “Relax and have fun.” Then he turns and leaves the room.

As Derek leaves the room, he smiles at the remaining pack guarding the door. “Mr. Kim, Mr. Jung, and Mr. Park, I think your human does not understand what is happening.”

“Our human? So, you know?” Seokjin questions with wide, cautious eyes.

Derek looks over his shoulder at the closed break room door. His mind conjures up all the ways this could go sideways, but he focuses on all the ways this could be the best thing for you.

“At first, I thought it was just a typical Alpha reaction with him being the cause of Y/n getting injured, but his care and gentleness seemed to come from somewhere deeper. Add on the fact that your other two are fighting Alpha Space. It would be hard to miss,” says the fox hybrid with a softness.

“The other two?” someone asks.

Shaking his head, Derek looks back at the remaining three, saying, “Yes, the younger Mr. Kim and Mr. Jeon’s Alphas surfaced just before I left. Your Prime Alpha is going to try to sort things out, but he may need some back up.”

“Meanwhile, I am going to find our boss and see what needs to be done before you all run away with her,” comments Derek, leaving the pack to mull over the new information.

“Tae has never been one to control his Alpha well when one of us is hurt. I am not surprised if he slipped once near her. Kook always runs on instinct too, so it makes sense he slipped as well,” Seokjin contemplates.

“Should we stay out here? Miss Y/n’s pack member said it would be better to go in and help Namjoon? Three of us in Alpha space with an injured mate is not going to be easy,” Hoseok adds.

Nibbling on his lower lip, Jimin thinks of ways to handle the situation. Even though he is one of the younger packmates, keeping the pack calm is his gift.

He just doesn’t know how to handle you yet, especially since you don’t know what you mean to the pack.

“Good, at least three of you are here, and I assume the rest have made their way into the room with Miss Y/n,” Manager Sejin says while walking up to the group. “I have spoken with Big Hit, the Director at Playmate Service Incorporated, and Dr. Blackwell. Everyone is onboard and the doctor is ready to go.”

“Relax and have fun? What does he mean by that?” You mumble as you glare at the now-closed door that one of your best friends just shut.

He willingly left you with four Alpha male idols.

Three of them are kneeling on the floor with non-human eyes, and the Prime Alpha, looking around the room like the way to explain what's happening is painted on the walls.

Taking a breath, you say, “Mr. Kim, Prime Alpha… Sir. Derek is right. I have no actual experience with Alphas. I can tell that there must be some kind of instinctual drive going on, and there are trigger words or actions.”

“I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already have. What do I do to make it easier for your pack?” you question.

At your words, the kneeling Alphas gave a multitude of pleasant chirps because you may not consciously know what to do but you are still acting like a baby mate. You looked at the three of them, a little confused. They seemingly smiled and made almost the same sound as when you said that.

Okay, so they can growl and chirp. Your curiosity spikes when you think of what other animal-like sounds they can make as hybrids.

Drawing your attention back to him, Namjoon finds the words to explain what is happening, “Miss Y/n, you have done so much to help the Bangtan Pack feel welcome today.”

With a gentle smile, he continues, “So please relax, you have not caused any trouble, and we highly doubt that you will.”

He thought, ‘At least, not in the way you seem to be thinking.’

“Alpha’s run with a higher level of instinct than your Beta pack member. As an Alpha, Yoongi-hyung instinctually feels responsible for your injury. In order to calm that instinct, a few things will most likely need to happen.” Watching you sit up with interest, he continues, “First things first, he and his Alpha need to get at least your injury treated.”

“He has to be the one to take me to get it treated?” You start to ramble with concern, “I can’t have him go with me to the clinic! There are fans and sasaengs and the media! What about your schedule? You always hear about the tight schedules Idols have and you have already spent all afternoon here over this.”

You start panicking about the hordes of people you hear about following the band around. God, the amount of bad publicity would come from catching you and THE Suga of BTS at a clinic. You can’t imagine what nonsense they would come up with?

Your scent goes into an even heavier version; it takes on an almost alcoholic aspect. The kneeling Alphas instinctually send out calming pheromones while moving closer.

Yoongi’s tail, still wrapped around your ankle, tightens while he gently rubs the back of your injured hand, which he is cradling protectively. He wiggles forward an inch or two to ensure you realize he is still there and isn’t going anywhere.

Taehyung starts to purr softly but loud enough for you to at least hear it. His mates have always found ease in their emotions and pain with his purring, so he hopes the sound will comfort you similarly.

Jungkook, running on instinct alone, scoots up to your left side, nudges his head under your left hand, and rests on your leg. Touch and cuddling are strong hybrid traits that naturally bring peace to most, and being a bunny hybrid, Jungkook loves to share his cuddles more than the others.

The feeling of Jungkook’s head on your leg snaps you out of your thoughts and brings you back into the room. You hold still as you start to recognize similar comforting behaviors the Alphas are doing with those that Evie always does, allowing you to take a deep breath.

“Sorry. I was raised to take care of myself and not impose on others,” you softly say.

“Miss Y/n, you are not imposing. Again, Yoongi-hyung ran into you while rushing out of the room, and it's his responsibility to make amends. Actually, as a bonded pack, it is our responsibility, too,” explains Namjoon.

“The pack? Like all of you? Is this why they are all like this, with their eyes and stuff?” you question with a scrunched face.

Absent-mindedly, you run your fingers through Jungkook’s hair, softly scratching his scalp, soothing not only yourself but also the youngest Alpha.

A soft chuckle escapes Namjoon as he watches your instinctual interactions with the youngest mate. He answers, “Yes, that is the best way to explain the eyes and stuff, as you put it.”

“Jungkook-ah and Taehyung-ah will find it easier to leave their Alpha Space since they are not the ones responsible for the injury but trying to be supportive to both of you,” informs the Prime Alpha as you nod in understanding, which he thinks is you not really understanding but just going along with it.

Hearing a knock on the door, he calls, “Who is it?”

“Namjoon-ssi, it's Manager Sejin. I have some updates and a few questions. Can I enter?” a voice calls as the door opens slightly to reveal it’s him.

At Namjoon's nod, he enters. The door remains open as the scents in the room are constricting in their density. He is followed by the rest of the pack, who take up guarding now from inside. With the mixed emotions in the scent-filled room, the Alphas worry that it will reach other hybrids who will come to investigate.

“Did you contact everyone?” asks Namjoon.

“Big Hit and the Corporate Director are on the same page and will follow the hybrid protocol, but details must be discussed once Miss Y/n has met with the doctor,” Manager Sejin reports to the Prime Alpha.

Moving to look at you, he continues, “I contacted Dr. Blackwell, thinking you may be more comfortable with a female doctor. We have her on retainer to work with some of the female back up dancers on the tour as well as the pack.”

He glances at the boys surrounding you closely, noting the change in their eyes; his scent changes with curiosity. He raises an eyebrow, looking at Namjoon. With a subtle nod, he confirms that something more is happening but does not move to explain.

Looking back at you, he gently smiles, “With the situation at hand, it may be best to limit other males around you until everyone is out of Alpha space. They tend to get territorial. Dr. Blackwell is on standby, ready to assess and treat you once we know where you will be.”

You look at the manager like he is missing something, or maybe you are as you question, “Why wouldn’t she just come here, or I go to her?”

“Miss Y/n, Dr. Blackwell is a traveling physician. She doesn’t have a permanent office to use but she is well respected in both the human and hybrid communities.”

“Oh, I see. Well, umm…” you look at Namjoon and ask, “What option would be best for your pack?”

Namjoon’s chest puffs slightly at your show of respect to him as the Pack Prime Alpha despite the situation and your pain level. “Not to make you uncomfortable, Miss Y/n, but I think meeting Dr. Blackwell at our Airbnb would be best,” he answers.

You take a moment to think, your hand pulsing with pain now that the adrenaline is starting to wear off. They cannot all fit in your flat. Heck, it's barely big enough for you, Evie, and Derek to hang out in; plus, it's a mess after you tore through your closet to find the right clothes for today.

If the growls were any indication, they didn’t seem to like being at PMS. Instinctually, even Derek and Evie prefer being in their dens when one of the three of you is hurt or sick. Making your decision, you look at the manager and then Namjoon. “Okay. If it is best for the pack, I will go with you to the Airbnb to see Dr. Blackwell.”

It’s almost as if a weight is lifted out of the room, allowing the pack to take a breath.

“Alphas Yoon, Kook, and Tae. Can you give Miss Y/n some room? We have to take her to the pack house to see a doctor,” Namjoon says with a firm voice, gaining smiles from the men kneeling on the floor.

Jungkook stands, quickly moving and curling into the Prime Alpha, his eyes returning to their natural color. Namjoon rubs his back, scenting him lightly to show his pride in the youngest Alpha’s actions to help soothe the baby mate.

Taehyung rocks back on his heels but remains close to you as his purring stops. His body is more relaxed, but his eyes are still crystal blue, shifting between Yoongi and you in wait.

After watching the two younger Alphas move around, your attention turns to the black jaguar kneeling with expectant, questioning eyes. He still cradles your hand as if it were his most precious possession, and his tail hasn’t moved from its coil around your ankle.

You tentatively ask, “Mr. Min, if I promise that you can stay with me, will you let me go get my things, and then you can take me to your pack house?”

Yoongi’s face lights up with a gummy smile as he nods. Your breath hitches at the sight. How can the devastatingly rogue-like handsome rapper look so adorable?

He stands up, his tail unwrapping from your leg. He softly takes both of your hands while he assists you in standing. You smile and mumble a small thanks as you step forward to leave but pause, turning to Namjoon.

“Prime Alpha, do you think I can talk with Derek briefly to let him know what is happening? This way, he can talk to the direc… Boss. Talk to the boss and let him know that I am leaving for the day?” you ask, but your voice is firm as if you were telling the Prime Alpha what needs to happen without blatantly taking control of the situation.

“Yes, talking to him will be fine. He has been established as part of your familial pack and won’t be considered a threat to the pack if he comes around you now,” Namjoon answers, moving out of your way and motioning for the rest to let you pass.

Bowing slightly, “Thank you, Prime Alpha.”

Making it to your desk is apparently more complicated than one would think.

Yoongi won’t leave your right side, while Taehyung won’t leave your left. Both act like it's code red, and someone is trying to assassinate you. Then, the rest of BTS trails behind like some kind of posse.

You keep your head down to avoid any strange looks or glares from whomever you pass. To your relief, you find Derek waiting at your desk with his head resting on his palms and a mischievous smile.

“I see you are taking things in stride,” glancing at your plethora of bodyguards. “Did the Prime Alpha explain everything to you?”

Speaking up from the back of the group, Namjoon answers for you: “She is aware that we are responsible for her at this time, and she will be treated by our doctor at our temporary pack house.”

You don’t miss Derek's look of concern as he tilts his head with curiosity at Namjoon. “I see, of course. You are just responsible for getting her treated. Hybrid customs and all.”

“Derek, can you please let the big boss know that I will be leaving with Bangtan Pack to seek medical care and once I have more updates, I will let you both know?”

Glancing at Yoongi and still seeing his lovely golden-yellow eyes, you try to ignore the slight flutter in your stomach, “I don’t think it would be good for me to talk with him myself right now.”

Derek nods in response, “Manager Sejin has already given the boss a rough time frame for the near future. I suppose his managing skills came in handy. Don’t worry about us here, we will get a temp while you heal.”

Standing up, Derek passes you your purse, which Taehyung takes. You try to grab it again, but only to have a black and white tail wrap around your arm and bring it back down to your side.

“No carry. Keep safe.” Taehyung almost grunts out in a deeper-than-deep voice, which short-circuits your brain. You knew he was the deep voice of the group, but that was not his singing voice.

Glancing at Derek out of the side of your eye, you see him briefly nod and smile encouragingly while he whispers, “It’s an Alpha Space thing. Best acknowledge his help.”

“Umm… Th-tha-hank you, Alpha,” you stammer out, willing the heat creeping up your neck to stop as your words pull a boxy grin from the Tiger hybrid.

“I think that is it,” you announce to nobody in particular. You smile awkwardly at Derek as he seemingly takes you in like he has never seen you before.

“Y/n, you have been through so much. Not just today but in your life. You have always been the one to take the blame for others, working harder or longer than anyone else and caring for those who never return the favor,” he says, his eyes glance at the men surrounding you as he sees nods of understanding and looks of concern from them.

As a soft smile blooms on his face, he holds onto your good hand, “Take time for yourself and let this pack of Alphas take care of you. You deserve it more than anyone else I know.”

He pulls you into a hug. You briefly stiffen, waiting for the growling and pulling to start, but to your surprise, it doesn't. Relaxing into his hug, you take his words to heart.

A soft whisper in your ear: “You know you will always have Evie and me as your family pack, but right now, be open to the pack around you. " With one last squeeze, Derek steps back and returns to your desk. "Now, shoo! Off you go. The boss said I’ll get to man the front desk for now.”

With a nod, you wave goodbye and face the hybrids behind you. After not finding Manager Sejin and a few others missing, your eyes settle automatically on Namjoon. With a slight frown, you wait for a clue as to what to do next.

“Manager Sejin went down to get the cars. Seokjin-hyung, Hoseok-hyung, and Jimin-ah also went down because we won’t all fit in the elevator,” reassures Namjoon.

“Oh,” you feel a slight tightening in your chest after realizing you didn’t even notice they had gone.

“Miss Y/n, let's take you to get looked at,” Jungkook says while inching towards the office doors. His Alpha wanting to get you away from the hallway that leads to the offices where he knows the Playmates who hurt you are being kept.

You follow the bunny and wolf hybrid while still sandwiched between the tiger and jaguar hybrids. Walking through the halls, you gain some attention from the people you pass. You’re a mere human surrounded by some of the hottest Idols in the world right now. So why wouldn’t they?

Not willing to look up, you keep your eyes cast down to the feet in front of you as you try to avoid what you are a gazillion percent sure are looks of disgust and hate toward you. Normally, you can walk the halls without drawing attention unless Reina is around. While Reina made sure everyone noticed you in a negative way, you fail to notice the glaring looks of the Alphas surrounding you, which has silenced most of the current gossiping.

Once the elevator doors open, the tiger lets out a low growl. Glancing up, you see two fellow PMS employees quickly scamper out of the elevator and down the hall. Well, that is another embarrassing incident that you will have to deal with when you return to work.

Namjoon and Jungkook take the back corners. Looking at the men by your sides, they motion for you into the elevator next. However, when you go to stand in another corner, you are quickly ushered back into the middle with Yoongi and Taehyung in front of you.

The tense energy calms down as the doors close. The threats in the hallway, the Playmate enemies, and the bumbling director are no longer a concern. The four Alphas relax now that they are the only ones to surround you and are taking care of you.

Even if your trust in them starts with an injury, they know this is their chance to show you what it means to be taken care of, acknowledged as precious, and loved endlessly by the seven of them.

As the elevator doors part, you're immediately greeted by the remaining packmates waiting for you, smiles warm and welcoming. They're surrounded by more men in black, whom you assume are bodyguards. The sheer amount of people outside the elevator is a bit intimidating.

Turning to look at you, Yoongi speaks for the first time since he entered Alpha Space, “Take home. Keep safe.”

Previous / Next

Taglist - CLOSED

@braveangel777 @bethanysnow @smileykiddie08 @kayways @danielle143 @nenefix-on @im-gemmy @fluffy-canada-pancakes @staytinyville @juju-227592 @levislifeline @carolinexkpop @m00njinnie @drenix004 @singukieee @avadakadabra93 @dazzlingjade @sehun096rainbow @sunshinecallie

556 notes · View notes

97kuu · 8 days ago

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Out of gas?

Summary; It was a setup between Taejoon and Jungkook to get him to hook up with you in the car. However, his guilty heart and physical desire revealed that he wanted more than what he was willing to confess that night..

Au; jungkookbestfriend! Friends to lovers!

Paring: Jungkook x reader!

WC; under 3k

Warnings; Smut, accidental f^ndling , random jump scare, car s^x, doggy, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dirty talk, light f^ngering, Almost caught, slight teasing, o^al (m), no condoms, creampies, Jungkook being thirsty, needy!jungkook, older Jungkook, acidental gr^^ping, passionate s^x, etc..

“Jungkook, it’s midnight..’ you whispered, eyes flicking to the time on his phone before scanning the view outside. The dark, foggy night pressed against the car windows, and a drizzle pattered on the glass. You both had been voted—unanimously, of course—to head out and grab pizza and snacks for the group. But now, here you were, driving slowly down the narrow forest road that connected the rented house to the nearest small-town market, headlights cutting through the thick fog as the car crept along.

“Should we call and say it’ll be an hour-” he paused, eyes squinting as he saw the smallest bit of light around the corner.

“Aha, so we’re near it. I recognized the light when we first came. Which means we’re about-“Jungkook pauses and out of nowhere a sudden movement burst from the left—a blur of fur and wide, the image of a deer’s silhouette flashed in the headlights.

Jungkook’s reaction was instant, a sharp intake of breath as his foot slammed the brake, tires screeching against the slick, uneven surface of the old road. The car lurched violently, wheels slipping as it swerved, fighting for traction on the rain-slicked asphalt.

In that split second, Jungkook’s arm shot out instinctively, pressing across your chest to brace you, a protective reflex as your bodies jolted forward. The vehicle shuddered, threatening to spin out, while the pounding rain roared louder, drowning out the racing hearts from the sudden but almost dangerous act.

“what? What?” You questioned, already on edge from there being little to no road light already. With his hand on your chest you realized wearing a bra would’ve been a bit better of a decision, if you knew a dear would just jump out like that.

Due to that, you could notice your nipples harden from the touch of his inked right forearm by hand. Embraced you looked away and hoped he didn't feel it, but deep down inside you both knew he did.

“A dear just jumped in front of us, that could've ended badly. I almost swerved us, you, into a tree.” He sighed, knowing his focus was off a bit.

Removing his foot on the gas, he felt for the window button and pushed down about an inch to get fresh air. The silence between the both of you was heavy, punctuated only by the rhythmic thud of rain and the soft hum of the engine as he recollected himself, only now remembering to remove his arm from your chest.

Hesitant, you look back at him and see from the little light offered from the headlights he was a bit distressed, and come to think of it since you both left he’s been a bit stressed and yet you couldn’t ask why. Yeah, the both of you are close and have a history but even now you couldn’t ask ‘Are you okay’ So with the silence between words you also relaxed with the windshield wipers filling the void.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered quietly, eyes not locking in with yours. “are you okay? You didn't hit your head on anything?” he questioned softly as he rolled the window up a bit.

“No, no I'm okay, your arm prevented that. So thanks” you reassured him, pushing on the light button between the both of you on the car's control panel.

You made sure to turn the back seat lights on and not the front to not flash the both of you. In doing so, Jungkook watched and crossed his legs a little bit more in fear of slander and disapproval. Then again it wasn’t like he didn’t want you to at least look at him hardening, it was a setup after all, all thanks to the member's naughty ideas.

It started when Jungkook was leaving after a vote of who would go, he was simply standing by the door of the rented place, shifted on his feet, while the teasing glances from Taehyung and Namjoon made it difficult to keep a straight face. The faint light above them illuminated the playful smirks tugging at their mouths, the rain-soaked night casting a shadowed veil over everything beyond. You were already inside the car, oblivious to the exchange happening outside between them three.

Namjoon leaned in closer, lowering his voice so only Jungkook could hear. “This is your moment. Don’t waste it.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, a knowing look that made Jungkook’s stomach twist in anticipation. Taehyung, arms folded casually, added with a cheeky grin, “There’s only half a mile of fuel, so if you want to fuck, that’s your best chance.”The bluntness of the remark sent a jolt through Jungkook, heat spreading across his face despite the cool mist of rain.

A crooked smirk broke across Jungkook’s lips, an attempt to mask the rush of desire that thrummed through him. “You two are unbelievable,”he muttered, his voice low but tinged with excitement. Namjoon gave a soft chuckle, stepping back with a pat on Jungkook’s shoulder, while Taehyung shot him one last suggestive glance before they both disappeared back inside.

Jungkook took a breath, trying to steady his racing pulse before turning and making his way to the car. He slipped inside, shutting the door with a quiet click. The soft patter of rain enveloped the space as he glanced over at you, eyes darkening with intent as anticipation crackled like electricity between you.

From then on all he could think about was how good you’d look as the moon covered your body. The way he would thrust upon you or your chest bouncing while he drove or the subtle suction from your lips on his tip as he drove. Just clouded with naughty imagery that worsened when he touched your chest, a movement that prevented you from any minor injuries or bruises he should be doing and not the car.

However the squish of your uncovered breast on him made him freeze, made him feel cray to think maybe you did want him. All because you typically never go out without one, your breasts are free and relaxed, and… he was trailing off mentally at the thought of wanting you until he released you were staring at his cock and he was drooling at the thought of your breast.

Jungkook could feel the weight of your gaze on him, a look that lingered longer than usual. His pulse quickened, and despite his best efforts to focus on the quiet hum of the night, his mind kept drifting to the way your eyes moved over him—slow, wondering, and curious.

There was something in the way you looked at him—something that pulled at him, making it harder to pretend everything was fine when his heart was pounding, his body betraying him. He knew that it was obvious and that connections could be made and he’d swear it was innocently done and not intentionally for his pleasure.

Not daring to speak he shifted again, knowing there was an awkward silence. The awkwardness hung for minutes at a time, but Jungkook couldn’t ignore the growing pressure inside him. Despite the discomfort, despite the way his nerves seemed to freeze him in place, his body still managed to betray him. Every subtle shift in his posture, every lingering glance from you, only intensified the craving he couldn’t shake. He tried to keep his mind focused, he tried to push the thoughts away, but it was just impossible.

There was something about the way you stood there under the car’s dim light, the silence between you both stretching just a little too long, that stirred something deep within him. It was awkward—undeniably so—but his body had its rhythm, its desires, and right now, they were begging to be satisfied. He shifted again, trying to will the discomfort away, but the tension only seemed to grow, and it became clear that no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, the need for something more was undeniable.

“There’s no denying what you see, but it’s killing me. I can’t ignore it anymore. You’ve got me worked up, and I don’t know how much longer I can pretend that it’s not there.” His body was wired, every nerve alive with need, desperate for release. The ache inside him only grew stronger, a constant reminder that he was on the edge, craving the relief that only a touch could bring. His mind raced, and yet, nothing seemed to ease the pressure building within him. The frustration clawed at him, knowing that it was impossible to ignore, and the only thing that could silence the throbbing tension was the very person in front of him, you.

With a slide of your hand towards his inner thigh, he bit down on his lower lip in anticipation as the throb and lift of his cock spoke louder and clear than he could.

With a slight chuckle to yourself, you placed your thumb on the outlining of his sweatpants and rubbed the pleading tip in circles. He couldn’t focus on anything the moment you placed your thumb in him and with the light movement on his tip, he was truly feeling his heart drop to his tip in need.

Jungkook was holding back thoughts of pulling his cock out and placing your slightly smaller hands around, to truly get a good feel of how you made him fall in a quick desperation of need. He was holding it all back, taking one circle around the tip at a time as if being entranced.

Not asking to stop he shifted in his seat, unconsciously widening his legs, allowing more space between his thighs. The motion was deliberate, almost instinctual, as if his body was craving more room, more freedom. The fabric of his pants stretched slightly with the movement, the tension of the moment becoming more evident as his posture opened up. He wasn’t just making space physically; it was as though he was inviting something, shifting his stance to make himself more accessible, more vulnerable in that quiet, charged atmosphere.

Grabbing the hem of both his sweats and boxers he pulled them down to his knees exposing his aching, twitching, drooling member that throbbed for you in every way. He was vulnerable, he needed to show he was serious and stand firmly on the idea of you touching more of him. Even if it was with bold actions or words.

“Oh you’ll my cock, want it even,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “If not, you’ll love the feeling.” he continued, his attitude shifted. The change was almost immediately, when your hands wrapped around him, without asking, without hesitation. The action made his breath hitch, a smug smirk spreading across his face as he leaned back, knowing now that there was no turning back.

With a lick of your bottom lips, knowing that if there was any chance of this happening again it was zero and you wanted it as much as he did. You wanted his touch, his need his cock. Maybe it was a good idea to be braless, if you were truly disgusted or afraid why was your tongue now lapping in circles around his tip? Why were slight moans threatening their way out while you embraced him in your mouth? All the while your panties began to feel damp, slightly sticky from your ongoing aroused state.

Jungkook was average length, but thicker in circumference and curved a bit to the left. His tip is wider than the base. He was a good size, maybe a great size from just looks which made your teeth sink themselves into your bottom lip with desire. A desire, a desire to be filled up and fucked against the leather seats in his car. Oh, how the way he slowly drove you insane quickly should be studied.

The more you thought about how Devine his cock would be, your body became needy as if being free of restraints that you never knew you had with him until you began bobbing your head and using your dominant hand to fondle his cock. Even jungkook was surprised by how willingly you took him, how much focus you put on sucking his cock with utter grip while he put the car in park.

Groaning his heart was eased by the mutual feeling of lust, but curious about how far you’d both go. Lifting your head off his cock, he leaned down a bit to embrace you a lighthearted kiss, your mind not even having to think as you kissed toughly back in response.

Oh, you both loved it, bodies heating up and coming closer second by second as if being pulled by a now-known shared moment of hunger and urgency as you both pulled each other closer. The kiss was frantic, and deep, as if you were both trying to take in every inch of each other, the world around you fading away.

Your hands moved instinctively, tugging at his shirt, pulling it off with a sense of urgency, your breath mingling in the brief seconds you parted to take in air. His lips found their way back to yours in those fleeting moments, your bodies pressing against each other as if you couldn’t get close enough. The rhythm of your kiss grew more intense, matching the pounding aching desire between your thighs.

Pulling away, leaving you speechless he helped you take your shirt off and pull down your bottoms throwing it in the back seats with his own before lowering your seat’s back down and making his way across the car's middle section to be between you and your aching cunt.

“I have no condoms” he mentioned, helping you in a tight space to get on your knees, to then help press your chest on the passenger seat. Essentially kneeling doggy in a space limited of room.

“Pretend you do when you cum inside me” you teased, his hand swatting your ass causing a hiss of pain.

“Sure will” he teased back, hands gripping your waist as he began to grind his bare erected cock between your lips, coating the top with wetness as if asking slightly if he could go in. Without a verbal response, he could tell you agreed from the way you arched your back and pushed against him with need. And oh did that send him to the heavens and back in a movement.

“Fuck!” Jungkook, under his harsh breath cursed. Body enjoying the wetness of your pussy sliding on it.

Shortly after a few grunts and hard slaps on your ass, he teased the tip of his member around your entrance. Leaning over your back a bit, he stabilized his left hand on the side of your body before going to strum his thumb on your clit. With light circular motions on your bundle of nerves, his tip was merely sitting just around your entrance.

“There's more in store baby,” he whispered low, yet still audible to your ears. Right after saying that his motions stopped as he smooched your back and sat on his knees as much as he could in the shared passenger seat. Lining up, he slowly pressed himself in to see how he’d fit and if he’d be able to thrust himself in with no problem. With a deep groan, he thrusted himself in further feeling the tightness mixed with the warmth of your insides that felt nice and snug around him.

He felt good, he was excited and desperate to be inside. The small thrusts of his tip, soon turned into slow strokes that went from tip to base filling you up every time, feeling that stretch as your warm wet liquid dribbled around his aching cock. Resuming he placed both of his warm hands on your waist, his grip becoming tight, warm, and firm against your colder skin as he held you closer to his pelvis.

Picking up the pace, he could start to hear your moans muffled into the chair and he wanted more. He desired to fuck himself against your wet cunt with passion, need, and raging desire as an insatiable heat coursed through him. One driven by the singular desire to make you unravel beneath his touch

He felt like every fiber of his being pulsed with a need that was more than just want—it was a raw, consuming hunger to feel you respond, to watch your body react under his command. His heart pounded with anticipation, each thrust of his cock fueling the fire that pushed him to take control and make you surrender to the pleasure he craved to give.

Oh, he wanted it badly, he wanted you to surrender to the touch, to the thought of the very feeling of his cock buried deep inside of

your gripping, creaming pussy. Which was something he took great pride in getting even if it meant showcasing a shy, hungered, and needy side of him. You were his weakness, you were his desire and necessity and there was no going back after this. After years of a good friendship, this was going to change it and more for both of you with no thoughts against it from either of you and he was satisfied with that in mind.

“You’re mine now,” he growled, breath ragged as he pressed closer, each word laced with a rough, possessive tone. “And after tonight—” a low grunt escaped him, “there’s no going back. Not when you know how this feels.”

Your breath hitched, a shiver coursing down her spine as she met his intense gaze. “Then don’t stop,” you whispered, voice trembling with anticipation. “Show me why I’ll never want to.’”

A controlled, deep warmth spread through him, fueling a commanding need that made his jaw tighten and his breath deepen. His pace slowed but became striking as he pounded harder. The feeling coursed through him like a slow burn, power, and pleasure entwined as he let out a low, pleased groan, curses flowed out like an ongoing river as he pounded and relished the hold he had on the moment.

“Come on, let go for me,” he urged, voice deep and rough with need. “I need to see you fall apart. I need to hear every sound.” His moans were loud and filled with need as he built up to his edge, slowly holding on to his orgasmic finish so that he could cum with you.

“I’m right here,” he murmured, voice low and commanding. “Let go for me. Indulge, and you’ll see how good it feels.” His eyes locked on yours, full of intensity, as his touch guided you closer. “Cum for me,” he urged, the need in his tone impossible to ignore, “show me everything.”

As his voice reached you, rough and commanding, it sent a shockwave through your body. The tension inside you snapped, and a powerful release took over, making you cry out as the sensation overwhelmed you. The intensity was enough to make your body tremble uncontrollably, and a sudden rush of wetness followed, leaving you breathless and shuddering as you surrendered to the peak he had driven you to.

He felt the tight coil in his core snap, a deep, guttural moan escaping as the rush overtook him. His body shuddered, muscles tensing, every nerve on fire as the wave of pleasure surged through him, overwhelming and unstoppable.

Each pulse left him breathless, eyes squeezed shut as he surrendered to the intensity of the moment. His voice dropped to a commanding tone as he thrust harder, “Cum baby, cum on my cock now! I want you to cum babygirl.”

The force of his thrusts pushed them both over the edge, and he felt her release, her body trembling beneath him as he rode out his own, his breaths ragged and deep. He continued thrusting, each movement a desperate need to finish and he was close. He was there and once that loud cry of “Jungkook” slipped your lips, he was gone.

His body trembled as the pressure built within him, each movement intensifying the feeling. The edge was near, and his breath came in shallow bursts, his grip tightening as he felt the overwhelming rush rising from deep inside. With one final push, the wave of pleasure crashed over him, his body shuddering as he released, a guttural sound escaping his lips lost in the sheer intensity of the moment. He was done, his body spent and trembling, feeling the warmth of her against him.

He was panting, he was sweaty, and hovered over your nude body in weakness almost wanting to crash into you. But no, he pulled out watching his fluid follow out behind him with a smirk. Shaking the last of his cum onto your legs, he shortly gained the strength to scoot back over to the driver's seat and lay back in it with a huge sigh of release.

Meanwhile, you plopped yourself on the chair ass faced out, and sat there in silence as you regained your consciousness and energy to move, coming down from your high as his seed dripped out and slid down your thighs. He was right, there was no next after him and you wanted that as much as he did. You were ready for whatever came next, that's something you didn't have to have sex again to decide. You did have feelings for him in the past and now, so why not go for it?

With that in thought you felt a cold wet press against your legs only for him to reassure its a wet wipe just to clean a bit before heading to get food and back where the both of you would shower soon. Well until he sat down and the blinking light of the gas along with the tank on zero.

“Shit we're out of gas,” he groaned in frustration, hitting his head on the window.

“Well, I guess we call for backup once we’re dressed. Speaking of do you think anyone you know saw us?” you questioned, voice weak and shaken up, mind still out of it as you handed them his clothes and grabbed your own.

“No, this road only leads towards the house. If it was anyone it’d be” Turning to the side he sees a car light in the distance and hears a honk. With quickness, you turn off the light and both of you jumble to put your clothes on as the car slowly drives closer.

“Run out of gas?” Tae hollers, out the window, as he pulls up. Rolling his windows down, jungkook yells back “Yeah” and then whispers to you “There’s a convenience store, take my wallet and we’ll split up so you can buy what you may need because-” he cut himself, shy but what he was gonna say next. Giggling you nodded and fixed your clothing as he got out to help Tae fill the gass up to full before continuing for what was tasked. Pizza, drinks and other things.

M.List

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook jeon #jungkook scenarios #jungkook bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook bangtan #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #needy!jungkook #needyjungkook #jungkook friends to lovers #jeon jungkoooook

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chunghasweetie · 6 months ago

Text

𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 | J.JK

— part 2

— pairing | fem!oc x dealer!jjk

— summary | always giving out free shit to his favorite customer

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

smut, bickering, cussing, drugs🍃, plug jk, dirty talk, belittling, pussy eating, protected sex, porn making, friends with benefits(?), etc

— word count | 2.09k words

— song suggestion | everyday — ariana grande

“I can’t believe this man is really out here waiting outside like this.” Y/n groaned to herself.

She was meeting him once again for pre rolls, some dispos, and enough weed for her and her best friends.

Usually for anyone else it would be a bit strange for a plug to show up at their front door but Jungkook seemed very comfortable doing so.

Unluckily for her, she was very close to the plug.

He had been pulling up to her place everytime she wanted something. And he was more than happy to do it.

She was wearing a pink low cut top with a matching mini skirt. Her makeup was done up nice and her hair was curled to perfection.

She didn’t have much plans for the day. However, knowing that she was ordering from Jungkook, she knew she had to look somewhat presentable.

It’s not like she had to try too hard, she was gorgeous naturally. She had a body people would kill for and a face many would pay to even resemble.

“Hey mama.” The man bit his lip, checking her out at the doorstep.

“I don’t see anything.” Y/n looked at both of his hands and his front pockets. “Jungkook I swear if—“

“You’re already bugging.” Jungkook rolled his eyes. “I have it. A ‘hey’ would’ve been nice.” He stepped into her home.

“And it would’ve been nice to ask to come in.” She shut the door behind him.

“You’re so so pretty but your mouth—“ He exhaled. “You’re annoying.”

“Yet I’m your favoriteee customer.” She teased.

“Hell no. You’re not my favorite.” He shook his head, walking over to her counter, tossing everything he brought on there.

“Oh really?” She cocked her eyebrow. “You’re such a liar.”

“Psh- Why would I lie?” He looked over at her. “You’re honestly my least favorite.”

She could laugh. “Least favorite?”

“You heard me mama.” He shook his head. “You’re so annoying, rude, and you don’t even pay me.”

“I don’t pay you because you’re always tryna fuck.” She rolled her eyes at his insults.

“Trying to?” He laughed. “You act like I’m not successful every time.”

Wasn’t a lie. He was even laying it down when she didn’t order from him.

“You’re so annoying.” She groaned.

“I’m annoying? You texted me to drop off your shit and gave me attitude the second I came in!” He argued.

Also true.

That was their dynamic. Always having petty arguments as their way of flirting with each other. It was annoying but also very entertaining for the both of them.

“Oh my gosh. You’re already starting something.” She shook her head. “Go fucking change so we can watch a movie.”

“No way.” Jungkook fake gasped, touching his heart. “You’re letting me spend the night again mama? I’m so honored!”

“I hate you.”

༊—

“No way.” Jungkook’s jaw dropped at the sight of the scene on TV.

Jungkook and Y/n had been sharing a blunt on her couch and were heavily tuned into That 70s Show.

They had been watching the show together since the beginning of him coming over.

The two were cuddled up, Y/n stroking his hair as they watched the show.

It was the scene in which Jackie and Hyde had been secretly hooking up over the summer, and no one was as shocked as Jungkook.

Y/n had watched the series more than once, and seeing Jungkook’s reaction had her weak with laughter.

“That was so unexpected.” He announced. “But honestly, I’ve been thinking they looked good together.”

“Told you.” She shook her head.

“You didn’t tell me shit!” He turned over to her.

“Whatever.” She took another hit of the shared blunt.

“Pass it to me.”

“No.”

“Damnit woman.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re so fucking irritating but you’re so hot.”

“Awe. You’re such a sweetheart.” She answered sarcastically.

“Keep fucking playing with me.” He stared her down. “Been giving me attitude all night. I’ll straighten that out so fast.”

“The fuck you will.” She replied with an attitude once again.

“Oh wow.” Jungkook turned his attention to the TV, chuckling to himself.

“Okay.” He rubbed behind his neck. “Put the blunt down.”

“But—“

“I said put it down. You got your high. Just being greedy.”

She obeyed him after noticing his demanding tone of voice. He grabbed her remote, turning up the TV.

“Kiss me baby�� He leaned in, easily earning a kiss from her.

“Pretty lips.” He pulled away before grabbing the back of her neck with his tattooed hand, crashing her lips back onto his.

She kissed him back willfully, smacking her lips repeatedly against his.

“So pretty.” He mumbled against them. “But that mouth is disgusting. Gotta fix that.”

He spit in her mouth, going back in and kissing her more aggressively.

Moving the couch pillow behind her head, he laid her down on the furniture.

He slid up her skirt, moving her panties to the side with his teeth.

“Not even apologizing,” He made a ‘tsk’ sound with his mouth. “I got some for you.”

He used his left hand to grab onto her breast, and used his right hand to hold her hips down.

His face was immediately hovering her cunt. His mouth was already watering at the sight, spitting and drooling on it.

Although it made her feel good, eating pussy was one of Jungkook’s main sources of pleasure.

Especially hers.

He’s never craved something so badly.

They weren’t dating. They never discussed anything of the sort. They were young and didn’t want to waste time with the labels.

But he would be damned if he had to share this woman.

The two did have their rocky and dysfunctional relationship but he was very happy to be around her.

Always smirking to himself whenever she texted. Hoping she’d ask him to stay longer. Following her on his damn plug account.

He had some other customers that were attractive women, but from the beginning she’s been his favorite. No one else got all the perks like she did.

She was a whiny moaning mess. Jungkook hadn’t even tasted her yet.

“Jungkook, please.” She begged. “Can’t wait like this.”

"I know, baby, I know. It's been too long." He leans in, his breath ghosting over her skin for just a moment before his lips press against her clit.

Her legs immediately squirmed at the feel of his mouth. She could hardly move due to him holding her down.

Grinning, he moves his tongue around her clit, sucking and nibbling at it.

He moves one of his arms to keep her leg in place, while the other one moves upwards, slipping two fingers inside her.

"All that attitude for what?" He asks through muffled groans.

He smirks against her skin, moving his fingers in and out slowly. He starts flicking his tongue over her clit faster, adding a third finger as he matches the rhythm with his tongue.

“You’re bitching at me the moment I get through the damn door. Now look at you.” He chuckled against her clit. “Apologize.”

“I— mm— Fu— I’m”

“Can’t speak?” Jungkook suddenly stopped, pulling out his fingers and moving from her heat since he knew she was close.

“Jungkook!” She groaned. “You can’t do me like this right now.”

“I can’t?” He laughed. “Oh I can. You can give me attitude all damn day but you want me to reward you by letting you cum already?” He scoffed.

“Ugh!” She groaned in frustration.

“Turn around.” Jungkook was already tearing a condom open with his mouth. “Ass up face down.”

She got into position like ordered. Jungkook moved the hair from her face so he could have a better view of her.

“Oh fuck yes.” Jungkook had the sight of her ass all to himself. “Don’t even know how you made it fit in that tight little skirt.”

He was checking her out. He did this everytime. Her body was perfection and way better than any of the models he had seen on Instagram.

“Can you do me a favor mama?” He leaned forward, “I wanna to do something with you.”

“What is it?” She asked, desperate to get fucked already.

“Lemme record.” He tapped her ass, almost fainting at the recoil. “Please?”

“Yeah.” She reached over, grabbing her phone and handing it to him.

“My dirty girl.” He chuckled. “Knew you’d be down.” He took a hit of the dispo the two had on the couch.

He doesn't hesitate as he opens the camera app on her phone and starts recording. He positions himself behind her, lining his cock up with her entrance.

“Oh fuck.” He cussed as he slid in, the camera flash capturing their synchronized gasps as he slid inside her.

“Fuck, you have to watch this video later.” His mouth hung open at the sight.

“Mm— Jungkook” She hummed, “Fuck baby”

“Come on mama.” He slapped her ass. “Make this video good yeah? Bounce on this dick for me.”

She fucked herself on his cock, making her eyes rolled back with each bounce.

He grips her hips as he starts thrusting in and out of her, picking up the pace as he fucks her hard.

“Always so fucking tight” He groaned. “But you’re so fucking wet. How does that work?”

“Mm” She whined. “Jungkook you’re too fucking big.”

“You take it don’t you?” He slapped her ass. “So fucking pretty. Especially when you’re high.”

Her ass clapped against him, the sounds of her moans and her ass driving him off the edge.

They were panting, equally putting in the work to get each other off.

“Been dying to fuck you since you texted me this morning mama.” He spoke to her. “Huge tits, fat ass, and pretty face is just what I needed.”

She could cum with his words alone. She loved how he smoke to her and how vocal he was.

“Fuck” He groaned, pulling out with a loud ‘pop’ sound.

“Jungkook!” Y/n whined in irritation.

He stopped filming, shutting off the phone and tossing it to the side.

“Sorry mama. Gotta fuck you missionary.” He apologized, smacking her ass before flipping her over on her back. “Wanna cum while I look at your face.”

“Can I take it off mama?” Jungkook pouted cutely, pecking her cheek. “Pleaseee”

“No. I still don’t trust you.” Y/n shook her head. “Over here tryna bend the rules.”

She was very strict on Jungkook wearing a condom. She heard all sorts of rumors about the women he had been with and she was not taking any chances.

“I don’t know why. You know rumors aren’t always true.” He shook his head.

“Do you want pussy or not?” She threatened.

“Fine fine” He gave in.

He wanted her to know she was the only girl he was with but, it was too soon to deal with the sappy shit when all they were doing was fucking.

He slipped back in her, stretching her out once again.

He went back to his pace, snapping his hips inside of her while she arched her back at the impact.

Jungkook couldn’t stop staring at her breasts bouncing up and down as he fucked her.

His shaft throbs as he watches her come undone on his cock, tits bouncing wildly. He's almost there just from the sight.

“Mm fuck Jungkook.” She moaned out his name repeatedly.

Their energy was lower because of the weed but their sexual urges were at an all time high.

Jungkook reached over, circling over her clit with his thumb. “Feels good huh mama? You take it so good.”

He was growing closer to his edge.

The double stimulation with the weed still highly active in her system made her go insane.

“Look so fucking pretty like that baby.” He cooed. “My prettiest and favorite customer for sure.”

His thrusts become more frantic, his balls slapping against her ass with each one.

“Jungkook I’m— I need to cum” She whined desperately, barely able to let out a single sentence.

He rubbed her clit more intensely before she came all over his cock, panting at the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Jungkook came shortly after, pulling out pumping himself until he came all over her stomach.

The two panted together, staying still for a moment to catch their breaths.

“F-Fuck. I’ll clean us up.” He said, still trying to get to his breath.

“Let’s just run a shower.” She replied. “P-Please”

He agreed. He cleaned up what he could before the two stood up of her couch.

“So…” She trailed off. “You admitted I was your favorite customer.”

“Goddamnit Y/n.”

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frmisnow · 1 month ago

Text

play pretend ! 𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ nsfw.

the premise of being fuck buddies with your best friend, is hilarous.. and scary. but what if you start feeling more? it's just play pretend and sexual desires right?

warnings / includes — suggestive themes, heavy fwb, pomegranate metaphor for bloody love bc you can not stop me, bit of angst

you don't think you've ever needed something or someone as bad as you needed jungkook.

the sex was consuming, long lasting, always playing somewhere in the back of your head. you can't ever focus anymore. sometimes you wondered how it was to him, if he also felt rushed handprints of yours from last night still on his body, if he could still feel your mouth tracing over his neck, licking over his tip. weather he could still feel the fingernails digging into his skin, roughly like a promise. you were curious weather he also couldn't quite wash it off, no matter how many times he showered. all that was left to do, to fill the need, the growing void between your legs everytime he left, was meet him once more. and bury yourself into him.

you hoped that the fingernails digged into him so hard that it'd leave a mark, one that everyone who even dared to touch him in ways you did, would stumble across.

he loved tattoos, it was just another one, wasn't it?

and you firmly believe that you florish under his touch, that he makes you happier, in more ways the just the sexual.

you knew he didn't quite knew what love was but the way he held you after cleaning you up during one of his rougher times, makes you remember the warm feeling you last felt, years and years ago.

but that thought nonetheless, was utterly terrifying.

it's days like these, when he moans how bad he needs you, groans how much he 'fuckin' loves you' as he's chasing release, that your heart aches in a manner that hurt. you want to reach out for the nearest sharp tool next to the kitchen counter he takes you on, bare him your heart like a little pomegranate, so he could eat you whole and kiss you with the same red liquor staining his lips that was once flowing through your veins.

but you don't, because you don't want to scare him. he doesn't know you like this, and he shouldn't — vulnerable and blood soaked, that would be a terrible sight to feast upon.

“say it again,” you manage to gasp, as he spirals closer to the edge, his voice breaks, heavy with urgency. “i love you. god, i love you so much.”

you haven't talked since then.

days into weeks, and weeks turn into a month, no call, no seeing, no texting. you waited for it, for him but when he finally came thorugh it came as a surprise:

you had given him keys to your apartment a while back, before this whole.. thing even happened though he rarely used them. you didn't expect to see him, nursing on one of your old whiskey bottles, when you came home from work.

when he sees you, his mouth shapes into a tiny 'o' and he reaches forward to hug you, he smelled like the cigarettes he had promised to drop soon — or atleast that's what he said a month ago.

he doesn't pull back, his fingers digging into you in the exact same way you wanted to mark him always.

"i was stupid." is all that he whispers into your hair, burrying his nose in the slope of your neck as if he had missed the scent of you and wanted to firmly inhale your soul, you'd probably let him.

in a matter of seconds he drops onto his knees, the sound dull, echoing through the kitchen as he wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, "i was stupid to think that the whole 'no expectations' thing would work."

"jungk-"

yet he doesn't let you speak, looks up at you, and you don't think you've ever seen him so fragile. not even when you used to strip him out of his clothes was he so bare and seemingly at your mercy then he is now. you're sure if you could see his hands that were currently wrapped around you, you'd see a pomegranate of his very own that he would offer you in the following.

"i need you more then i've ever needed anyone." he sounds breathless, like just looking at you sucked all of the air out of his lungs, "i don't think i can live without you."

he shakes his head, "i can't even do a month without you. i see you everywhere, in every movie, i see you and me, in every piece of literature, i suddenly find you in every goddamn thing."

now is your turn to feel like you can't breathe, but you can manage to whisper the three words that have been coating your brain for so long before you get onto your knees as well, so you could kiss eachother and share the air that you've been missing.

two pomegranates turn into one, and you're the happiest you've ever been.

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jeonful · 4 months ago

Text

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ oneshots + drabbles . . .

idol idolbf!jk proves you wrong when you don't believe him

blow idolbf!jk getting head after a concert

butter idolbf!jk has other ways to enjoy the AMAs

tattoo bf!jk shows you how much he loves your new tattoo

needy bf!jk begs you to cockwarm him

patience husband!jk makes you wait for him . . . and his c*ck

innocent bf!jk giving you an innocent hug that turns into sex

fingering you during a night out bf!jk fingers you during a night out together

finding out your pregnant bf!jk finds out he's gonna be a daddy

⋅ REQUESTS ARE OPEN !!

⋅ about

⋅ visit my baby

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kookiewithluv · 5 days ago

Text

ASHES OF A PROMISE

• TITLE: ASHES OF A PROMISE

• PAIRING: Lycan king!Jungkook x Werewolf!Reader

•WORD COUNT: 23.6k

• GENRE: Paranormal Romance, Dark Fantasy, Smut, Slow burn, Fluff (?), Tragic Romance, Grumpy X Sunshine(?), Royal au

PROLOGUE 01 MASTERLIST 03

CHAPTER 2: BITTER BONDS

The warm rays of the sun scrambled into your room, filtering through the thin curtains and casting streaks of light across the walls. One fell directly on your face, jarring you awake. You stirred, groaning softly as you turned your face into the pillow, but the persistent sunlight won. Squinting, you opened your eyes, only to immediately shut them again, wincing as the brightness stabbed through your eyelids. With a tired sigh, your hand rose to shield your face, your fingers pressing against your temples as if to push away the dull ache lingering behind your eyes.

The sunlight bathed the room in gold, but it might as well have been pitch black. The sun’s glow felt hollow, incapable of touching the cold void within your chest. You stared blankly at the floor, your shoulders slumping forward, the weight of exhaustion—mental and emotional—pulling you down. The exhaustion wasn’t just in your body—it was in your bones, your mind, your very soul.

Pushing yourself up, you sat on the edge of the bed, your feet brushing against the cold floor. Your shoulders slumped, weighed down by thoughts you couldn’t silence, and your fingers curled into fists at your sides. It was a new day, but it didn’t feel like it. There was no hope. You didn’t want to be here. Not in this room, not in this life. Every cell in your body ached to escape, to run until the memories, the pain, and he couldn’t catch you. You wanted to run. Far away. From this place. From yourself. From everything.

Dragging your feet, you moved towards the washroom, each step slow and reluctant. Inside, you came to a halt in front of the mirror. For a long moment, you just stood there, gripping the edges of the sink. Your knuckles whitened as your fingers tightened, grounding you against the sight before you.

The woman in the mirror looked back at you, but she wasn’t you—not anymore. Red-rimmed eyes, swollen and glassy, looked out from a face streaked with old tears. Your lips quivered, tightening into a thin, bitter line as the taste of grief and shame flooded your tongue.

It wasn’t the face of someone who had found happiness. It was the face of someone who had been drowning for too long, someone who had forgotten how to breathe. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill again, but you blinked them away, your jaw clenching so hard it ached.

Who was she?

The woman in the mirror, with her defeated eyes and trembling lips, disgusted you. No, not disgust. It was something worse—pity. You hated the downheartedness that stared back at you, hated how small, how broken, you looked. Your lips pressed together, trembling before you forced them still.

You released the sink and let your arms fall to your sides, but they felt too heavy, lifeless. A harsh laugh escaped your lips—sharp, bitter, and hollow. Your reflection laughed with you, her lips curving in a way that mocked you. How could you not feel this way? You had every reason to. And yet, you told yourself not to. To push it down, to ignore it. Your teeth clenched at the irony.

What good was a heart if all it did was remind you you’re alive to feel this?

The woman in the mirror wasn’t just tired—she was hollow, her spirit stripped bare. Her shoulders slumped forward, her head bowed slightly, as if the weight of her own reflection was too much to bear. The defeat in her eyes mirrored your own. You looked down, gripping the edge of the sink so hard your fingers began to ache. Why wouldn’t you feel defeated?

Since you were seven, all you’d ever wanted was a mate—someone to love, someone who would love you back. Every she-wolf dreamed of a mate who was strong, powerful, the kind of male who could rule the world with a flick of his hand. But not you. Never you. All you ever prayed for was someone who would love you with all their being. Someone who would breathe for you, as though you were the air in their lungs. Someone who couldn’t imagine a world where you didn’t exist. All you ever asked for was love.

And what did you get?

The strongest mate alive. The Lycan King, Jeon Jungkook. A bond forged by the moon goddess, not by love, not by affection. The kind of bond others envied, but for you, it was solely pain.

Your breath hitched as you thought back to the war, to the day your parents were taken from you. Their faces flickered behind your closed eyes. After their deaths, you had no one. No arms to hold you, no soothing voice to tell you it would be okay. Yet, you didn’t let yourself fall. You kept your head high.

Even when Alpha Sebastian slithered into your life with his venomous charm, trying to force his affection onto you, you didn’t break. Not when he found cruel ways to punish you for rejecting him, nor when the whispers started. The pack blamed you for Luna’s death, saying it was your fault that Alpha Sebastian had stopped caring for his mate. She lost faith in their bond because of you, they said. She lost her life because of you.

They called you an abomination, a curse, a living punishment from the Moon Goddess.

But even then, you held on.

you’d held on to hope.

But now?

The word left a bitter taste on your tongue now. The woman in the mirror, with her tired eyes and trembling shoulders, didn’t believe anymore. You lifted your hand, brushing it over your face as if you could wipe away the emptiness.

Your voice cracking as you stared into the reflection. “Is this what I waited for?”

Your chest heaved as the questions clawed their way out of you. Love and expectation—they were inseparable. You’d given your heart to the idea of a mate, to the promise that the Moon Goddess hadn’t forgotten you. And now? Now, that belief felt like the cruelest lie.

Love, like everything else, had betrayed you.

"Bee?" A soft, calm voice called from the other side of the door. "Bee, you in there?"

You froze, your grip tightening around the cold edges of the sink. It was Patricia. Her voice, usually gentle, carried a fragile note now—worried, uncertain. The sound of it made your throat tighten and the urge to cry hit you like a crashing wave.

But you wouldn’t.

You couldn’t.

Not anymore. What was the point of shedding tears for someone who had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t care? His words from yesterday replayed in your mind like a haunting echo. Each syllable was a blade, dipped in venom, slicing through your heart in the cruelest, slowest way. You had heard him, all of him—his disdain, his indifference, his utter denial of everything you were.

You inhaled sharply, trying to ground yourself. Crying over someone like him felt like a waste. Someone so cold, so void of love for you, someone who found your very presence displeasing. The thought alone made your chest burn with humiliation.

"Bee?" Patricia called again, her voice more hesitant this time. A soft knock followed, breaking the silence of the small bathroom.

Your lips parted, trembling slightly as you forced the words out. "Yeah," you rasped, barely above a whisper. The sound of your own voice startled you—hoarse, dry, as if it had been scraped raw.

You knew why. You’d cried all night.

You swallowed thickly, pressing a trembling hand to your throat as if to soothe the ache there. Patricia would hear you, you were certain. She always did. Mated to the royal general, a powerful Lycan, her senses were sharper now than they ever had been. Before her bond, she’d been no stronger than a human. But the mate bond had changed her, as it did all she-wolves who were bonded to stronger males.

Your hands gripped the sink tighter, your nails digging into the porcelain as your head hung low. You hated thinking about it. About how everything—the bond, the strength, the connection—was supposed to mean something.

It was laughable.

You blinked, your eyes stinging as Patricia’s words barely registered in your mind. Jungkook’s face flashed before you, his piercing gaze filled not with love or warmth, but disdain. How could he look at you, his mate, his one and only, with such disregard? How could he reject everything you were, everything you could offer him?

What a cruel joke.

Mates were supposed to complete each other, to offer a bond so deep, so intimate, that no other connection could compare. Your nails scraped against the sink as your hands dropped, hanging limp at your sides. Tears welled in your eyes again, blurring your reflection. You swallowed hard, your jaw clenching as you pressed your palm to your chest. The pain there was suffocating, but you forced yourself to push it down.

"Oh," she said softly from the other side of the door, the sound dragging you from your thoughts. Her tone was light but carried an edge of hesitation, almost as if she were reluctant to disturb you.

"Actually," she continued, pausing briefly, "I was sent here to escort you to breakfast. The others are just about to start, so I’m supposed to ask you to hurry… but truly, take as much time as you need." Her words were soft, kind, her voice as soothing as a breeze on a stifling day. Patricia’s sweet nature was one of the few things you found comforting here. She wasn’t intrusive, just gentle.

There was a faint rustling sound as her footsteps retreated from the door, but the faint scent of lavender and mist lingered. It curled around you like an invisible ribbon, letting you know she hadn’t left the room. No, she was likely perched on her usual spot—the chair by the window, quietly watching the pack.

You sighed deeply, staring at the fogged bathroom mirror for a moment longer before shaking yourself out of it. There wasn’t time to wallow anymore. You moved quickly, showering with cold, hurried motions, scrubbing away the remnants of tears and exhaustion from your skin.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, dressed and somewhat composed, Patricia rose from her chair. Her movements were fluid yet unhurried, her head turning to meet your gaze. There was no judgment in her eyes, only a calm understanding. "Let’s go," she said softly, stepping toward the door with you following close behind.

Once in the hallway, she glanced at you and added, "Please walk ahead."

Her voice was still kind, but there was a subtle shift—a hint of annoyance beneath the surface. It caught you off guard. Patricia was always so patient, so unwavering in her gentleness, that the change in her tone made you hesitate. You nodded quickly and stepped forward, keeping your head low. The air between you felt slightly tense now, a faint pressure that made your shoulders sag further.

The truth was, you didn’t blame her. You’d been here for two days, and all you’d done was cry in your room. The grand halls and towering structures of this unfamiliar place were still foreign to you. You hadn’t even explored the parts of the estate you were allowed to wander. Most of your time was spent avoiding everyone, drowning in your own thoughts.

The silence between you stretched as you walked, Patricia trailing just a step behind. You glanced at her from the corner of your eye. Her expression was neutral, but there was something about the way her arms were crossed loosely in front of her and the way her lips pressed together that made you think she was holding back.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to," you said softly, walking beside her, your steps light but hesitant. "I seem to forget..."

“It’s fine, Bee,” Patricia interrupted, her voice steady but her posture slightly tense. She glanced at you, her sharp gaze unwavering. “But remember, you can’t afford to forget things here.” Her hand brushed against the fabric of her dress, a nervous gesture she quickly masked by straightening her posture. “Life in the palace isn’t like your pack. The smallest misstep can turn into a crime faster than you’d think.”

Her words carried weight, but it was the way her lips pressed into a thin line that made you pause. She exhaled quietly, as if debating whether to say more, before her eyes softened with a flicker of understanding.

“I know,” she said, her voice lowering, “because I was once where you are. I know what it’s like to come from a place where trust and loyalty is a given. But here?” She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper, her breath warm against your ear. “It’s not the same here.”

Her tone sent a shiver down your spine, but before you could respond, Patricia straightened abruptly, her expression now unreadable.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“We’re here,” she said, her tone flat as you both entered the dining hall.

And there he was.

Jungkook.

Your mate. Your king.

Your heart leapt into your throat, beating too fast as your eyes locked with his. The world around you seemed to blur and fade as your body reacted before your mind could catch up. A rush of warmth flooded your face, shame clawing at you for still caring so much when he had made it clear how little you mattered.

How could your body betray you like this? After everything, how could it still react to him this way?

The subtle shift in his body was almost imperceptible, but you saw it. His jaw tightened, his shoulders stiffened, and then… His eyes flashed yellow.

It was brief—a flicker that lasted no more than a heartbeat. But it was enough to make your stomach twist. For a fleeting moment, his expression crumbled. There was something there, something raw. Sadness? Guilt? But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

The hardness returned to his features, his eyes now cold and distant. You stared at him, your thoughts racing. Had you imagined it? Surely, you must have. Why would he ever feel anything for you? Emotions were a luxury he’d never shown, especially not toward you.

Your heart ached at the memory of his harsh words, his refusal, the way he’d made it abundantly clear that he neither desired you nor wanted you that you were nothing but an obligation.

You forced yourself to look away, biting the inside of your cheek until the metallic tang of blood filled your mouth. This was your reality, and no matter how much it hurt, you had to accept it.

Patricia walked gracefully to her mate, her fingers brushing against his shoulder as she took her place beside him. You followed her steps hesitantly, your heart pounding as you aimed for the empty seat next to her.

But before you could sit, a voice—low, gruff, and tinged with barely restrained anger—cut through the air. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Your head snapped up, your breath hitching as you met his gaze. Jungkook. His dark eyes bore into yours with an intensity that sent a chill down your spine. His jaw was clenched, the muscle there twitching as he fought for control. You swallowed hard, feeling exposed under his scrutiny.

You wanted to act clueless, to feign innocence, but deep down, you knew exactly what he meant. His wolf, restless and simmering with frustration, was furious at your attempt to distance yourself. And yet, the anger you saw in his eyes didn’t seem directed at you—it felt like it was aimed inward.

Before you could respond, Neil’s calm voice broke the tension. “Luna, please sit here.”

Neil, gestured toward the seat beside Jungkook. His tone was gentle but firm, a quiet firmness in his words. It was the first time he had addressed you directly, and it caught you off guard.

You glanced at Neil, noting the warmth in his eyes as they flickered briefly to Patricia. His love for her was unmistakable, a bond so strong it almost hurt to witness. You’d always admired him for it, envied it even.

For a moment, defiance sparked in your chest. You wanted to refuse, to argue, to push Jungkook’s buttons just as he had pushed yours so many times before. But as your gaze shifted around the room, you saw the quiet anticipation in the faces of those seated at the table. This wasn’t the time for petty defiance.

Your shoulders slumped, and with a quiet sigh, you turned toward the seat beside Jungkook. Fear clawed at your insides as you took your place next to him, the scent of him making your heart twist painfully.

He didn’t look at you at first, but you could feel his attention like a physical weight. His presence was smothering, his gaze burning into the side of your face. You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your dress.

“Could you please not stare?” you asked, your voice strained but steady.

Jungkook blinked, his head tilting slightly as if considering your request. Then, to your surprise, he nodded and turned his gaze away.

The absence of his attention left a muted ache in your chest, one you couldn’t explain. You bit your lip, frustrated with yourself, with him, with everything. What did you want from him?

Your stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, breaking the silence. Your eyes widened in mortification as you instinctively placed a hand over your stomach. Slowly, you raised your gaze, feeling heat rush to your face as every pair of eyes at the table turned to you.

Kian, sitting across from you, grinned broadly, his amusement clear. “Well, someone’s hungry,” he teased, his tone light and playful.

Neil chuckled softly, leaning forward slightly. “Luna, you seem quite famished,” he said warmly. “Let’s call the maid to serve you, shall we?”

"Eat." The word left Jungkook’s lips like an order, firm and without room for argument.

You glanced at him, startled, and whatever faint smile had been tugging at your lips vanished. Your eyes darted to the plate he had pushed toward you—his plate, laden with food that he had been served.

For a moment, you just stared at it, confusion knotting your stomach. What was he doing? Why?

Jungkook’s jaw was tight, his face unreadable, but his actions screamed louder than words. Your chest tightened as the realization settled in—this wasn’t just about food. Among wolves, this act, this gesture, was intimate. Deeply so. A male sharing his plate with his mate was a declaration, a way of showing care and devotion. It was a prideful, loving tradition.

But here? Now? With him? It felt like a cruel mockery.

Your throat dried as you sat frozen, your fingers twitching against the edge of the table. The food, no matter how beautifully plated, felt like poison on display.

"You’re hungry, aren’t you?" His voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, calm and steady, but his sharp gaze pinned you in place.

You wanted to lash out, to demand answers, to scream at him for the impossible game he seemed to be playing with your heart. But instead, you bit the inside of your cheek and looked away, your nails digging into your palm beneath the table.

"I am," you whispered. Your voice barely carried over the tension that hung between you, and you knew he’d caught the bitterness hidden beneath it. Your fingers reached out, shaky, as you took the fork and scooped up a bite of food. The silence around the table was deafening as you brought it to your mouth.

The moment the food touched your tongue, a wave of nausea rolled through you. It wasn’t the taste—it was good, perhaps too good. But the knot in your stomach tightened as you swallowed. Your chest ached, your emotions teetering between hurt and anger, sorrow and frustration.

The maids arrived, placing plates in front of him as the others had already begun eating. You focused on your own plate, determined to finish as quickly as you could. You were practically swallowing your food, each bite feeling heavier than the last. The sooner you finished, the sooner you could escape.

But his gaze. God, his gaze.

It bore into you, unwavering, a mix of amusement and something else you couldn’t place. Anger simmered in your chest, like molten lava threatening to erupt. Why couldn’t he just look away?

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, his movements deliberate, his jaw tightening as his eyes remained locked on you. He wasn’t just watching; he was studying, dissecting every little movement you made.

You felt heat rise to your face, not from embarrassment but from pure frustration. Your grip on the fork tightened as you shoveled the last bite into your mouth.

When you finally set your fork down, you realized you hadn’t eaten any faster than the others. Taking a deep breath, you stood, your chair scraping against the floor as you pushed it back and you turned on your heel and headed for the door. But just as you stepped outside, a hand clamped around your arm, firm but not painful. The electric zing that shot up your arm told you exactly who it was before he even spoke.

“Wait,” Jungkook said, his voice low and commanding.

You stopped but didn’t turn to face him. Your body stiffened under his touch, the tingling sensation spreading like wildfire. You clenched your teeth, willing yourself to stay calm.

“What do you want, Jungkook?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended. You finally turned to meet his eyes, and there it was—something flickering in them. Frustration? Guilt? A plea for something he’d never admit aloud?

He stood there, frozen in place, his gaze locked on you as though the weight of his unspoken words was crushing him. His lips parted slightly, but the only sound that escaped was a shaky breath, faint and unsteady. His chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate movements, as if he was trying to summon the courage to speak.

His hand, warm and firm around your arm, trembled almost imperceptibly. His fingers tightened, not out of aggression but as though he was anchoring himself, trying to keep you from slipping away. His boba eyes, wide and glistening, drifted down to where his hand rested against your skin. For a moment, he seemed utterly captivated by the contact, the conflict in his expression so raw it almost startled you.

You followed his gaze, your eyes drawn to the place where his touch burned, not with fire, but with something far more complicated. Was that guilt? Was he finally regretting what he had said—the wounds he’d inflicted on you, on your pride, your soul, your very essence?

Your heart ached, but it wasn’t for yourself. No, it was for him. For the man who looked so lost in his towering, intimidating frame. But you bit back the tenderness rising in your throat. He didn’t deserve it. Not yet. Not after everything.

Jungkook let out a slow, trembling sigh, his eyes lifting back to yours. And in that moment, your breath caught. There was something there, something raw and unguarded. Vulnerability. Pain. Hope.

You hated it.

No, you hated yourself for how it made you feel—for how it cracked the armor you’d built against him. You wanted to deny it, to run from it, but the truth burned in the back of your mind. You’d step into the monster’s den again and again if he asked you to.

“I…” His voice cracked, barely audible, and he looked away, his lashes casting soft shadows against his cheekbones. His jaw clenched, then relaxed, his lips moving as if silently rehearsing the words he couldn’t seem to say aloud. “I just wanted to…”

“To what?” you snapped, cutting him off. The sharpness in your voice masked the vulnerability bubbling inside you. You crossed your arms, pulling yourself from his grasp, his hand falling limply to his side.

He flinched, but he didn’t back away. His shoulders slumped slightly, the perfect, confident facade slipping just enough for you to see the man beneath the alpha.

“I just…” he began again, swallowing hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed, the motion almost painful to watch. “I just want to talk.”

“Talk?” You laughed, the sound sharp and bitter, slicing through the heavy silence like a blade. “You think there’s anything left to say? After all you’ve done, after all you’ve said? You made yourself perfectly clear, Jungkook. You don’t want me. So why pretend now?”

He flinched, his shoulders stiffening as your words hit him like a whip. His jaw tightened, and his hand curled into a fist. “You think I’m pretending?” His voice was low but defensive, the anger in his tone sparking like a flame trying to catch.

“Aren’t you?” you shot back, your arms crossing tightly over your chest. You held your ground, even as his presence loomed larger, more controlling. “Why am I even here, standing before a king who’s never once truly wanted me?” His brows furrowed, and his lips parted, but no words came. Frustration rippled through him, his clenched fists trembling at his sides.

“You’re my mate,” he said finally, the words laced with a mix of gloom and desperation.

“Am I?” You laughed again, colder this time, the sound devoid of warmth. “Or am I just convenient, something to acknowledge when it suits you? Because the rest of the time, I’m nothing more than an obligation, aren’t I? Something forced on you, something you resent.”

“It’s not like that,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor. His voice was soft, uncertain, as though he didn’t believe the words himself.

“Don’t lie to me,” you snapped, your voice cracking. You took a step closer, forcing him to meet your eyes. “I’ve lived through your silence, your indifference. You meant every single word you’ve ever said, Jungkook. Don’t you dare stand here and tell me otherwise.”

His head lifted, and his eyes, wide and panicked, locked with yours. There was a crack in his carefully built facade, a flicker of vulnerability that nearly made you falter. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Oh, but you did,” you cut him off, your voice trembling despite the steel in your tone. “I thought—stupidly, I thought—you sent me there because you felt guilty. That maybe, somewhere in that cold, unfeeling heart of yours, there was a shred of care for me. But no. It wasn’t guilt, was it? You didn’t want the council to find out. That’s all it was. Heaven forbid anyone know the king has a mate. Heaven forbid you’d ever risk anything for me”

His lips parted as if to protest, but no sound came. You took a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay composed, even as your heart splintered anew. “Tell me, Jungkook. Am I really that unlovable?”

His face twisted, anguish written across his features. “No… no, no,” he stammered, his voice breaking. He reached out as if to touch you, but his hand hovered in the air, uncertain and trembling. “Just listen to me—”

“Then say it,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but steady as a blade. “Say what you’ve been holding back, Jungkook.”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he took a step closer. His chest heaved, and his fingers twitched at his sides, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, a sweet, melodic voice pierced the moment.

“Jungkook?”

His body froze. His head turned toward the source, blocking your view as his broad shoulders shifted. Your stomach twisted. You didn’t need to see her face to know who it was. But then, to your bitter satisfaction—or dismay—you didn’t have to wait. She stepped into view, her movements graceful, like a predator perfectly aware of her power. Elizabeth. The council head’s daughter. Her soft, golden curls framed a face so beautiful it could have been painted by the gods. And yet, all you could think was, What is she doing here?

She stood beside him now, her hand brushing lightly against his arm as she smiled. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears as you fought to keep your expression blank. The question burned in your mind, louder than anything else. Why is she here? At the palace?

“Jungkook,” she whispered, her voice soft but deliberate, and you felt as though the ground beneath you had split open. Why was she calling your mate by his name? No one did that—no one was allowed to—unless they were bound to him by blood or he had given them explicit permission. Your chest tightened as a swarm of questions filled your head. Why would Jungkook let her? Were they close? How close?

Her slender hand rested on his arm, her fingers brushing against the dark fabric of his sleeve like it belonged there. Her lips curved into a gentle smile as her eyes searched his face, her expression calm and confident, while Jungkook—your mate—stood frozen under her gaze. You watched, your heart pounding as he stared at her, his usual unreadable mask slipping into something that made your stomach churn. His confusion was evident, but there was something else—something that looked a lot like fear.

Why does he look like that?

“Liz?” he whispered, his voice hoarse and uncertain, as if he were speaking to a ghost.

And just like that, your blood turned to ice.

Liz. He called her Liz. Not Elizabeth, but Liz. A nickname, intimate and familiar, meant for someone important, someone special. Your chest constricted, the ache so sharp it felt like a blade pressing against your ribs.

No. No, that can’t be right. That’s not what this is. It can’t be.

“What... what are you doing here?” he asked, his tone soft in a way you’d never heard before. His voice, his words, carried a tenderness that twisted the knife in your chest.

She smiled again, tilting her head in a way that made her golden curls shimmer in the light. Her beauty was undeniable, ethereal, and you felt… small. Insecure.

“What... you’re not happy to see me?” she teased lightly, her voice lilting as she took a step closer.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” a voice interrupted, and you turned to see Kenji stepping forward. His sharp, formal demeanour was laced with tension as he bowed slightly. “I asked her to wait, but she insisted—”

“He’s not angry, Kenji,” she said, cutting him off mid-sentence. Her voice was sweet, yet there was an edge to it, like silk concealing a blade. She smiled, tilting her head slightly, her golden hair cascading over her shoulder as she turned her full attention to Jungkook. “You know I don’t like waiting.”

Her words, her presence, her unwavering focus on Jungkook—it all set your blood ablaze. Her sole fixation was Jungkook, as if the rest of the world had faded into the background. And him? He wasn’t saying a word.

Your heart twisted painfully as your gaze darted between the two of them. She stood too close, her delicate fingers brushing his arm as though it were second nature. He didn’t move, didn’t flinch, didn’t push her away.

Why isn’t he stopping her?

Your fists clenched at your sides as the fire in your chest burned hotter. Oh god, was this jealousy? You hated the way it crawled up your spine, the way it took root in the pit of your stomach and gnawed at your insides. No, you told yourself. She could just be a friend. People in their ranks always circle each other, allies forming alliances.

But friends didn’t touch like that. Friends didn’t stand so close that their breaths mingled.

And worst of all, Jungkook was staring at her—not with the cold detachment he reserved for most, not even with the exasperation he often directed at you. No, his eyes were soft, filled with tenderness and something far more dangerous: familiarity. Your throat tightened as you watched him, pale and nervous, disoriented even, yet still holding a quiet care in his gaze for her.

He had never looked at you like that.

The thought struck like a dagger to the heart. Had all his distance, all his resistance to you, been because of her? Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you fought to keep your composure. Maybe you were imagining things, reading too much into gestures and glances, but how could you not? You weren’t asking for much—just the attention, the care, the love that should have been yours. Instead, here she was, getting everything you never had.

The fire in your chest threatened to consume you. You wanted to scream, cry, claw at your skin to rid yourself of the jealousy coursing through your veins. But you didn’t. Instead, you stood there, fists clenched so tightly your nails bit into your palms, forcing yourself to remain still when every fibre of your being wanted to tear her away from him. “Who is she?” she asked, gesturing toward you with an air of casual interest. At her question, Jungkook visibly flinched. His face, already pale, drained of any remaining colour. His lips parted as though to respond, but no words came. He looked... trapped.

You met his eyes, silently pleading with him to speak, to say the words that would solidify your place in his life. Tell her, you thought. Tell her I’m your mate.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he looked away from her, his dark eyes locking onto Kenji. “Escort her back to her room,” Jungkook said, his voice cold and clipped.

You blinked, stunned by the sudden command.

Relief swept over you in a tidal wave. She was leaving. She would be gone.

A small, hesitant smile tugged at your lips as you dared to hope—just a little—that maybe you had been wrong. Maybe your insecurities had twisted something innocent into something sinister. You looked at Jungkook, your heart still heavy but softening.

He chose me, you told yourself, guilt creeping in for doubting him. I should trust my mate.

“Luna, let me escort you back to your quarters,” Kenji said, stepping toward you, his tone gentle but firm. His words slammed into you like a blow to the chest. The real meaning sank in, and it crushed you. He wasn’t sending her away. He was sending you.

“What?” Your voice came out shaky, barely above a whisper. You blinked at him, not trusting your ears.

Kenji’s eyes softened with guilt, but he didn’t back down. “Please,” he murmured, his voice low and almost pleading. Your gaze snapped to Jungkook, desperation bubbling up in your chest like a volcano ready to erupt. You wanted to march up to him, grab him by his collar, and demand answers. But the weight of it all—the confusion, the betrayal, the pain—was pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe.

“Luna?” Elizabeth’s soft, lilting voice broke through the tension like a knife. She turned to Jungkook, her brows furrowed in confusion, her lips parting slightly. “Why did he call her Luna, Jungkook?”

There it was—a flicker of panic in her otherwise composed demeanour. You caught it in her eyes, the way they widened for just a second before she masked it with feigned curiosity. Even Kenji froze at her question, his jaw tightening as though he’d been caught in a trap. You scanned their faces—Elizabeth’s curiosity, Kenji’s guilt, and Jungkook’s growing tension—and the pit in your stomach churned. They all knew something you didn’t.

“Liz!” Jungkook barked, his voice sharp but edged with something you couldn’t quite name. “We’ll talk in my quarters.” Before she could respond, he grabbed her wrist and started dragging with him. She stumbled slightly, clearly caught off guard, but she quickly regained her balance and pulled against his grip, wincing as though it hurt.

Your stomach clenched at the sight. She’s leaving. The thought should have brought relief, but it didn’t. Her gaze remained locked on you, her eyes swirling with emotions you couldn’t decipher—curiosity, jealousy, maybe even fear. And you? You couldn’t look away. You hated her, and it wasn’t just her beauty or elegance or the way she carried herself. It was something deeper, something primal.

“Luna,” Kenji said again, softer this time, and you turned to him instinctively. His expression was a careful mask of professionalism, but his eyes told a different story. They were apologetic, almost pleading.

“Please,” he said again, motioning for you to move.

For a moment, your feet refused to move, rooted to the ground by the storm of emotions raging inside you. All you wanted was to go to Jungkook, grab him, and demand answers—answers to this, to all the questions that haunted your sleepless nights. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Instead, you forced a tight, bitter smile onto your face and nodded at Kenji. You saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes; he knew how fake it was, but he didn’t call you out on it.

You turned on your heel, your heart heavy and aching, and started walking toward your quarters. Kenji followed closely behind, his presence like a shadow you couldn’t escape. With every step, your chest tightened, and your mind raced. You wanted to scream, to cry, to throw something, anything, to release the storm inside you. But all you did was keep walking, each step feeling heavier than the last. By the time you reached your room, your hands were trembling. You pushed the door open and stepped inside, your breath shaky as you tried to steady yourself.

Kenji paused in the doorway, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he bowed his head slightly. “Luna,” he said softly, and then he closed the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You stood there, staring at the closed door, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to hold yourself together.

You paced back and forth in your room, your bare feet padding against the cold floor. Your heart pounded in your chest, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. You needed answers, and you needed them now. Shina would come. She was the only one who might make sense of this mess. You rubbed your sweaty palms against your dress and exhaled shakily. The faint, sweet scent of honey wafted through the air, and your head snapped toward the door.

She was here.

You strode to the door, wrenching it open, only to find the hallway empty. The guards stood motionless, their eyes trained ahead. But the scent—it was unmistakable. It was her. Your nostrils flared as it grew stronger, as if pulling you toward something.

And then you saw her. Shina rounded the corner at the end of the hallway, her movements fluid, her hair catching the dim light. She smiled when her eyes landed on you, a warmth in her expression that only made your chest ache more. It hit you like a punch to the gut. You’d smelled her from that far away. A shiver crawled up your spine. That wasn’t normal. You were just a regular werewolf. How was this possible? God, it wasn't good.

“Were you… waiting for me, Bee?” Shina teased, her grin playful as she closed the distance between you. “Never thought you’d miss me this much.” The moment she was close enough, you grabbed her arm and pulled her into the room, shutting the door with a forceful thud.

“Whoa! What’s going on?” she asked, her brows knitting together as she scanned your face. She reached up to touch your forehead, her fingers cool against your heated skin. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t,” you muttered, swatting her hand away. Your voice was low, clipped. “I’m not some fragile thing, Shina. I don’t get sick.”

She tilted her head, studying you with sharp, calculating eyes. “You look off,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “You’re acting like it.”

“Ha! Funny,” you snapped, pacing away from her.

“Bee,” she called out, her voice softening. “You’re acting… strange. You look like you haven’t slept all night.” You spun around, your movements jerky, your hands clenched into fists at your sides.

“Oh, sure. Because it’s so easy to sleep these days.”

Shina sighed, her shoulders sagging as she shook her head. “You know you’re impossible to talk to when you’re like this.”

“Like what, Shina?” you shot back, your voice rising. “Go on. Say it.”

“Like you’re…” She hesitated, the words hanging in the air. Her lips pressed into a thin line before she exhaled sharply. “Like you’re miserable.”

The word hit you square in the chest, knocking the breath from your lungs. She wasn’t wrong. You were miserable. But hearing it said out loud—especially by her—only deepened the ache.

“What’s the issue, Bee?” she asked, her voice quieter now, her eyes searching yours.

“If you know me so well,” you bit out, crossing your arms over your chest, “guess.”

She raised a brow, unimpressed. “Guess? No thanks. You’re a little terrifying when you’re like this.”

“Shina!” you snapped, the word ripping from your throat before you could stop it.

“For God’s sake, Bee,” Shina said, exasperation seeping into her voice. Her arms fell to her sides, palms up in frustration. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it. Don’t make me stand here, tiptoeing on pins and needles. I can’t read minds, and I sure as hell don’t have a crystal ball.”

Your gaze flicked to her, your jaw tightening as you swallowed hard. The words clawed at your throat, but doubt tangled with them. Should you even bring this up? Should you ask about her? The small, stubborn voice in the back of your head whispered not to—that there could be a reasonable explanation for Elder Mathew’s daughter being here. Maybe she was a political guest, maybe she was just a friend, maybe Jungkook didn’t care about her presence. But the desperation simmering in your chest drowned out reason. You needed answers. Closure.

“Do you…” You hesitated, your voice barely audible as you forced yourself to meet her eyes. “Do you know that Elder Mathew’s daughter is here?”

Shina blinked at you, her expression neutral as she walked toward the window, turning her back to you. “Yes,” she said simply, her tone too casual. Your fists clenched. Why did everyone love staring out that damn window? It was as if they thought the glass could shield them from the weight of your questions.

“And?” you pressed, stepping toward her, every muscle in your body tensing.

“And what?” she said lightly, though you caught the slight hitch in her voice.

“Why is she here?”

“How would I know?” she replied with a forced laugh, but her faltering smile betrayed her.

“Don’t play games with me.” You strode forward and grabbed her arm, spinning her to face you. Your eyes burned into hers, demanding honesty. “You’re the beta female. Of course, you’d know.”

Her brows furrowed, and her lips parted as if to argue, but then she shot back, “And you’re the Luna, Bee.” Her words were sharp, cutting through the space between you. She inhaled deeply, her shoulders rising and falling as she steadied herself. “That… that doesn’t mean I have all the answers you want.”

“Doesn’t it?” Your grip on her arm tightened slightly before you let go, stepping back with a bitter laugh. “But Kian would know. He’s your mate.”

Her jaw tensed. “And what if he does?”

“Then you do too,” you said, your voice low, almost a growl.

“Fine!” Shina snapped, throwing her hands up. “I do. Now what?”

“Tell me!”

“I can’t!” she shouted, the frustration in her voice matching yours.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“This isn’t my choice, Bee!” she said, her voice cracking. Her eyes shimmered, her expression torn between guilt and helplessness. “I don’t have a choice here.”

“Shina, please,” you pleaded, the crack in your voice betraying the desperation you felt. “Patricia isn’t here—”

“She wouldn’t tell you either!” Shina interrupted, taking a step back, her gaze darting to the door as if she wanted to escape.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not my place to tell you, and you…” She paused, her breath catching. “You might not want to hear it.”

“But I need to hear it!” you snapped, your voice breaking as your hands trembled at your sides.

Shina sighed deeply, her shoulders sagging. “Please,” she whispered, her voice softening. “Don’t put me in this position.”

Your knees buckled slightly, and you gripped the edge of the table for support. “But, Shina… I need to know. If I don’t, it’s just this… ache that won’t go away.”

“I get that,” she said, her voice thick with sympathy. “But, Bee… if you really need answers, maybe… maybe it’s time you ask the one person who can give them to you.”

Her words hung in the air, pressing against your chest like a weight you couldn’t shake. She was right. You knew she was right. You and Jungkook needed to talk. But how? Every time you tried, it ended in a fight, his sharp words cutting deeper than he could ever know. You weren’t some emotionless being—his denial stung more than you could admit. And yet, despite everything, you were growing fond of him. The mate bond or not, your feelings for him were creeping in, uncontrollable and unrelenting. Shina’s voice broke the tense silence.

“Bee?” she called softly, her eyes searching yours.

You blinked at her, your breath hitching as the ache in your chest deepened.

“It will be alright,” she said, her voice soothing. “I’m certain of it. You don’t need to worry. It’s not what you’re thinking.”

Her confidence should have reassured you, but it didn’t. It only made you feel… empty. Because there was only one person whose words could soothe you now, and his never had.

None of you said anything for a long time, the silence hanging heavy in the air. You both just stood there, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. Her eyes never left yours, but you could see it—pity, guilt, and empathy swirling in them. Beneath it all, there was the unmistakable pull to escape. You could feel it in the way her shoulders tensed, in the way her eyes darted away for just a split second before locking with yours again. She didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be put in the position you were putting her in.

But you weren’t going to press her anymore. There was something in her that told you it wasn’t the right time, that she was holding back for a reason. You didn’t want to make it worse. Maybe it was just easier to let her leave. You had your own questions now, and you would find answers another way. Jungkook could give them to you.

The next few hours dragged on in a haze of words you didn’t care to hear. Shina told you about Lycan history—bits and pieces you hadn’t known before. You’d heard of the first Lycan, the child of the moon goddess, who’d mated with humans, creating the werewolves. But what she told you was darker, heavier than that. How the first king had been executed for falling in love with a human. A king—dead, for something so simple. So heartbreaking.

But, despite your usual curiosity, you couldn’t focus on her words. They were just noise now. You could feel the pressure building in your chest, the knot tightening. You could see the way Shina looked at you—her eyes moist with unshed tears, a half-hearted smile twisting on her lips. It was like she was carrying the weight of a centuries-old tragedy.

“Guess tragedy follows all Lycan kings,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze flicking away from yours as if the words were too much to face.

“Maybe…” You spoke absentmindedly, the words coming out flat, like they were from someone else’s mouth. “Maybe things could get better. One day.”

Shina’s smile faltered, and she shook her head, her lips pressing together. “He’s dead,” she said, the bitterness in her voice surprising you both.

“Huh? No. I—” you stammered, but then her expression shifted, a deep, resigned breath escaping her as she looked at you, the pain clear in her eyes.

“I think it’s time for me to leave,” she said, her voice steady but her hands trembling slightly as she reached for the door.

“Training?” you asked, though the word felt like it was too light, too hollow.

“Yeah,” she said, a nervous smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. She was already moving toward the door, her footsteps quick, as if she couldn’t wait to get away from the moment. “I’m leaving now. You rest.” She rushed out of the room, her shoulders stiff, and you just stood there, watching her go. The door clicked shut behind her with a finality that made your stomach drop.

You scoffed softly, frustration bubbling up inside you. Why the hell was she in such a rush to leave? It didn’t make sense. You stood there, your body frozen, a part of you wanting to go after her, to ask if you could come with her, to avoid having to face Jungkook. But deep down, you knew that was just an excuse. You both needed space—time apart. She was uncomfortable in your presence, and you were too bitter to feel anything but resentment.

But there was something more pressing than any of that. You needed to talk to him. And you couldn’t keep running from it.

You drew in a sharp breath, straightening your back with determination. The bitterness in your chest, the ache that had settled there ever since the night you came here, had to be dealt with. You had to know the truth. You weren’t going to hide from it anymore.

With a deep breath, you started walking toward the prince’s chamber. The hallway seemed endless as your feet moved on their own, each step heavier than the last. The closer you got, the tighter your chest felt. You didn’t know what would happen, but you knew you couldn’t back down now.

But as you reached the door to Jungkook’s chamber, something stopped you. Two guards stood in front of the door, their postures rigid. They didn’t even glance at you, but there was something in their stance that made it clear: you weren’t going in.

Your confusion mirrored on your face, your brows furrowing as you looked between the guards. Why weren’t you allowed in? You had been here before, not once but twice, and never had anyone stopped you. It wasn’t like they’d ever welcomed you, but they’d never blocked your way either. You glanced at the guards, silently asking them why they were forbidding you now. What had changed?

The taller one, the one who usually looked the least amused by your presence, met your eyes briefly. His gaze was unreadable, but his posture remained firm. Without a word, he subtly shook his head,

"His Majesty is currently engaged in vital matters, and we have strict orders not to let anyone in," one of the guards said, his voice calm, his stance stiff and unwavering. His expression was a wall of stone, giving nothing away. His words lingered in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Vital matters? The phrase gnawed at you, sending a ripple of unease down your spine.

You swallowed the knot that had suddenly formed in your throat and steadied your breath. "Could you please tell him I wish to speak with him?" You tried to keep your voice even, though there was a flicker of desperation hidden beneath. Surely, he would make time for you. You hoped he would.

"My apologies, but I can’t do that," the guard replied, his tone unyielding. He glanced toward the other guard before continuing, "I suggest you return at a later time, or we can inform His Majesty once he’s available." His words felt like a cold dismissal, a door slammed shut without even a hint of hesitation.

You nodded, though the movement was mechanical, like your body was on autopilot. You turned on your heel, ready to walk away, but then something tugged at you—an itch in your mind, a question you didn’t quite mean to ask. Before you could stop yourself, the words were out.

"Who is His Majesty with?"

The guards exchanged a brief glance, their eyes flashing with something unreadable. The taller one shifted his weight, his jaw tightening. There was a hesitation, a subtle shift in his stance, but he answered nonetheless. "Lady Elizabeth."

Your stomach twisted violently, and for a moment, everything in you froze. Lady Elizabeth? The words hit you like a slap, raw and unanticipated. The world around you blurred for a split second, your heartbeat hammering in your chest. You didn’t say anything. The silence that followed felt heavy, suffocating. Without a word, you turned away, your feet carrying you down the hallway, though you had no idea where you were going.

Your mind was a storm, a muddled hurricane of confusion and pain. Fear wrapped itself around your chest, squeezing, making it hard to breathe. There was a choking sensation in your throat, as though someone was gripping it, holding it tight. You didn’t know why, but the fear felt overwhelming, as if your very soul was suffocating. The words kept echoing in your mind: Lady Elizabeth...

You tried to push the feeling away, but it lingered, gnawing at you. The bitterness in your heart was now coupled with an ache so raw it almost felt physical. I don’t care. I don’t care who she is, you told yourself, but it was a lie. The truth was there, and you could feel it sinking in—your chest tight, your breath shallow. You weren’t sure where you were headed, but the corridors seemed unfamiliar, and yet somehow, you kept walking.

It was beautiful here—almost breathtaking. The walls were adorned with intricate designs, the colours soft and warm. But it was untidy, too. The air smelled strange, heavy with the scent of something that made your stomach churn. Testosterone. The sharp, overwhelming smell of unmated males, young and restless, filled the space, clinging to the air like smoke.

You took a few more steps, your feet dragging, as the feeling of being utterly lost gripped you tighter. Where am I? You glanced around, but the hallways were empty, no one in sight. The churning in your stomach intensified, an urgent voice in the back of your mind screaming at you to run. But… where? You didn’t know.

You stopped, standing in the middle of the corridor, your heart racing, trying to calm the madness inside you. Get it together. You can’t be lost. But the panic rose, clawing at your insides, tightening around your chest. You couldn’t breathe. The walls seemed to close in. The feeling of being trapped overwhelmed you.

"Luna?" A voice broke through the haze, sharp and clear. Footsteps followed—heavy, purposeful.

You whipped your head toward the sound, the relief flooding through you so quickly it made your knees weak. Kenji.

"What are you doing here, Luna?" Kenji's voice was sharp, his gaze sweeping over you, taking in every inch of your form. His brow furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line, a clear sign of concern. His demeanour was exacting, shoulders squared, and his body instinctively positioned between you and the hallway.

"You shouldn’t be here," he added, his words firm, but there was something softer in his voice, like a silent plea for you to turn back.

You understood his concern. This part of the palace was different from the calm halls you were used to. The air was thick, soaked with the sharp, unmistakable scent of young wolves—uncontrolled, brimming with energy, their scent strong and raw. You could smell it yourself, a thick, musky mix of testosterone and unease. You didn’t need to ask him. It was clear.

The juvenile Lycans, especially the young males, were unpredictable. Their tempers were short, and their instincts fierce. Aggression simmered beneath the surface, barely contained, and it only took the slightest provocation to unleash it. These boys weren’t just troublesome—they were a force of nature, unpredictable and dangerous in ways you had never experienced before.

"I… I lost my way," you whispered, your voice faltering slightly as you tried to steady yourself.

"Come," he murmured, his voice low but reassuring, pulling you from your thoughts.

You looked at him, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, though it felt small compared to the heaviness in the air. "Kenji?"

"Yes, Luna!" His eyes widened, his expression softening when he caught the lightness in your tone. He seemed almost flustered by your smile, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction as he glanced down at you. There was something undeniably endearing about him—his loyalty, his protective nature—and in that moment, it felt like a warmth in the cold.

"Why does this place look… like a storm passed through it?" you asked, your voice still soft, though now filled with curiosity. You couldn’t help but notice the mess—furniture slightly askew, papers scattered.

Kenji’s gaze flicked toward the mess, his face tightening slightly. He didn’t seem surprised by your question, though he didn’t look thrilled either. "Young He-Lycans stay here. It’s their den," he said flatly, offering nothing more. The way he said it made it clear that there was no need to explain further—like the messy state of the room was simply part of the process.

You nodded slowly, understanding the unstated truth. But you couldn’t help but feel the sharpness of the atmosphere pressing in on you. The wildness of the young wolves felt tangible in the way the space seemed to pulse with energy, like the storm Kenji had mentioned was never quite over.

"Where are we going, Kenji?" you asked, looking up at him, the unease still gnawing at you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

Kenji halted in his tracks for a moment, as if your question had caught him off guard. His eyes widened slightly, and his lips parted, like he was struggling to find the right words. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze, but it was quickly replaced with a firm resolve. "To your quarters," he said, his voice steady but with an undertone of something softer—something protective.

"I… do-don't want to go there," you whispered, your voice small and uncertain, a nervous tug in your chest. The thought of returning to your room, alone in the quiet, filled you with dismay. You felt trapped in a place where you didn’t belong, surrounded by no one but void. The weight of loneliness pressed against you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to face it.

Kenji paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you, his lips parting as if he were about to say something. "What?" he asked, his voice gentle, but there was a flicker of concern in his gaze.

"Where were you headed, Kenji?" you asked, the words escaping before you could stop them. You needed something to focus on, something to distract you from the heaviness in your chest.

He shifted, his expression thoughtful for a brief moment before he spoke. "The stables," he murmured, almost to himself. The way he said it was so casual, but not to you.

"Horses?" you asked, your eyes widening, the excitement bubbling up inside you. A smile stretched across your face, wide and genuine. "I didn’t even know Jungkook kept horses."

Kenji’s eyes flicked to you, his posture hardening for a brief second. "They’re mine," he said matter-of-factly, his voice holding a hint of delight.

"Oh!" was all you could manage to say, the excitement racing through your veins. It was a small thing, but it felt like a chance at freedom, at doing something outside of the suffocating walls of the palace.

"May I come with you?" The words slipped out before you could second-guess them, the thought of the horses too tempting to ignore. You could feel your heart quicken, and your hands twisted together nervously, but the smile that pulled at your lips wouldn’t fade.

Kenji hesitated, his eyes flickering from you to the hallway ahead, as if weighing the consequences. His brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment, you thought he might say no. But then he looked at you again, his gaze softening. It wasn’t much, but there was something there—a flicker of understanding, of empathy.

"Please. Please, please, please, Kenji," you pressed, your voice pleading now. You felt the excitement bubbling up like an unstoppable force, your body leaning forward, almost daring him to turn you down.

Kenji looked torn, his lips pressing together in a thin line as if he were still unsure, still unsure of you, of whether it was a good idea. But after what felt like an eternity, he finally relented, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course, Luna. But… don't tell no one," he said, his expression still a mixture of caution and something softer—something you couldn’t quite place. His eyes flicked over you, as if trying to make sense of the sudden shift in your demeanour. You caught the wariness in his gaze, like he was watching you closely, waiting for something.

But you were too excited to care. You barely registered the way his eyes lingered on you or the tension in his posture. All you could focus on was the idea of the horses, of getting away from everything for a moment. You followed him through the palace. The hallways twisted and turned, unfamiliar and confusing, but Kenji moved with ease, guiding you through the maze.

Finally, you stepped out into the fresh air, the weight of the palace behind you. The cold breeze brushed against your face, and for a brief moment, it felt like a release. The stables were just ahead, the smell of hay and earth filling the air, mixing with the scent of the horses you could already hear shifting inside.

"It’s... small," you said, your eyes scanning the stables, and you couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled in your chest. Kenji shot you a look, a silent question in his eyes—Are you being serious right now?

You smiled at him sweetly, shrugging it off as if it were nothing.

"I only have two horses!" he responded, sounding a bit defensive. The way he said it made it clear that he had his reasons for the small stable, though you weren’t sure what they were.

"Oh!" was all you could muster, though the realization didn’t seem to change your excitement.

"Yeah!" Kenji added, a slight tilt of his head as he looked you up and down. There was something playful in his gaze, but it was too forced—like he was trying to be sassy but failing miserably. The awkwardness made you chuckle quietly, and it was almost endearing.

You both walked further into the stable, the scent of hay and earth filling your nose, when you saw them—two stunning horses. One was sleek and jet black, while the other was a rich, deep brown. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight. The black one was breathtaking. His coat shimmered in the light, and his eyes seemed to pierce through you. You took a step forward without thinking, your hand reaching out, eager to feel the smoothness of his coat beneath your fingertips.

But as you moved closer, the horse bared its teeth and snorted, a high pitched squeal rumbling from deep within its chest. You froze, instinctively pulling back as your heart leapt into your throat. Kenji was at your side in an instant, his hand gently grasping your elbow, guiding you away from the horse.

"Luna?" he whispered urgently, his voice low but with an edge of concern. You turned to face him, your heart still pounding in your chest. His gaze was soft but grave, and there was a hint of disbelief in his eyes. "Why…?" he asked, almost as if he were trying to understand.

"I—I just wanted to touch him," you stammered, your face flushing with embarrassment.

Kenji raised an eyebrow, his lips twisting in an almost disbelieving smile. "He’s wild."

"Well, you might have told me that sooner!" you snapped, the frustration of your failure making your words sharper than you intended. You crossed your arms defensively, but your eyes were still on the black horse, who was now eyeing you warily from the corner.

"Couldn’t you tell?" Kenji’s tone was soft but teasing, as though he couldn’t believe you didn’t sense the danger.

"I got excited!" you huffed, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips despite the situation. You were embarrassed, yes, but you couldn’t help the rush of excitement you had felt. The adrenaline from the near encounter still buzzed in your chest.

Kenji shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "He’s dangerous," he said, his voice firm, but there was a gentle amusement in his tone, as though he were trying to ease your fluster.

"Fine, I got it!" you said quickly, brushing it off with a small laugh. You were still processing the intensity of the moment, but Kenji wasn’t giving you time to linger.

"Go, try on that one. He’s gentler." Kenji gestured toward the brown horse with a wave of his hand, as if to shoo you away from the black one.

You walked cautiously toward the brown horse, whose calm eyes met yours without hostility. His coat was soft and warm under your touch, and as you stood beside him, he nuzzled you gently. The feeling of his breath against your skin was soothing. You couldn’t help but smile, a contented sigh escaping your lips as your fingers ran over his mane.

It had been days since you had been outside like this, away from the walls of the palace. Sure, you had gone shopping, but it wasn’t the same. Being here, in the fresh air with the horses, felt more like freedom than anything you had experienced in a long time.

The open blue sky stretched above you, dotted with soft clouds, and the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over everything. The cold breeze ruffled your hair, and the mud squelched beneath your bare feet as you shifted your weight. It felt so real, so grounding, like a connection to something wild and untamed. Even though you were still inside the palace walls, it was the closest you had felt to truly being outside. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the peacefulness of the moment wash over you.

Kenji and you had spent quite some time in the stables, feeding the horses and talking, the tension from the palace slowly ebbing away. But now, as you walked back toward the imposing walls of the palace, that sense of ease seemed to slip through your fingers like sand. You felt relaxed, yes, but that weight of confinement pressed back against your chest as the palace loomed closer.

Kenji escorted you to your room, but stopped just outside, as if unsure whether to enter. His hesitation was clear, but you didn’t push him. You simply nodded, grateful for the brief escape. The door clicked shut behind you, and as the silence settled, you couldn't help but feel the shift in your own mood. The familiar heaviness of your room creeping back in.

You walked across the room, your footsteps soft against the floor, and sat in the same chair Patricia always claimed when she visited—just beside the window. You couldn’t help but gaze outside, the familiar view stretching out before you. The setting sun painted the sky in rich purples and fiery oranges, the light so soft it felt almost like a dream. It should have been beautiful, and it was—but it also tugged at something inside you. A hollow ache in your chest that you couldn’t ignore.

For the first time, you realized how truly trapped you felt here. You weren’t a prisoner, exactly, but now you understood the full weight of what it meant to be stuck. You missed the small things. The people. The pack. The freedom you used to have. The flying birds in the distance, the shifting clouds, the pack members wandering without a care in the world—they were free. You were not.

You wanted to shake it off, to push the emotion down, but it swelled within you, a sadness that tightened your throat and clouded your thoughts. Why hadn’t I appreciated my old life more? you wondered, a lump rising in your throat. Your pack, your life—it was messy, chaotic, sure, and you had felt alone, maybe even hated by some. But back then, there was a freedom to it. It was yours, even if no one else understood or cared. You were free, and you had hope, however small it seemed. And now… now everything was out of your control.

"Do Patricia feel the same?" you muttered to yourself, barely aware of the question slipping from your lips. You didn’t expect an answer, but it hung there, thick in the air, a reminder of how alone you felt. Maybe you were being dramatic, maybe emotional, but right now, the melancholy crept so deep inside you, painting everything around you a dull blue.

The quiet only made it worse. The silence in your room was thunderous, overwhelming. Peace? Peace was the one thing you had never been able to hold onto in your life. It had always been about chaos. Your entire existence had been a swirl of turmoil and now, even here, it felt no different. Then, as if the universe had decided you hadn’t been suffering enough, the door creaked open. You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

Jungkook.

The Lycan king. The one who had made everything in your life more complicated than it needed to be. If it had been any other time, you might’ve been relieved—or maybe you would’ve felt excitement at his presence. But not now. Not tonight. Tonight, you had found a sliver of calm, and now it was slipping through your fingers as he entered the room, his steps slow and measured, like a predator stalking its prey.

Your gaze didn’t shift from the window, though you felt his presence fill the room, heavy and undeniable. The tension in the air thickened, and your pulse quickened. Were you mad at him? Maybe. Did you want to talk? Not really. Did you want him here, standing in your room? Absolutely not.

But there he was, unmistakable, his presence overwhelming. You could smell the faint traces of the stables on yourself, and it made you wonder—Did he know I was there? His eyes flickered to you, and then to the window where you had been gazing out.

You didn’t move. You didn’t even look at him, though you could feel his eyes on you, reading you like a book. His gaze was soft, but his body language? It was tense. His stance was too demanding for someone who had walked in so casually. You could sense his discomfort, his awareness of your silence. But you didn’t say anything.

You were tired of talking, of pretending. You just wanted a moment to breathe, a moment of quiet that was yours. Even if only for a few more minutes.

Without a word, he moved to sit on the edge of your bed, his movements slow and deliberate, as though he were afraid to spook you. You smirked at him, shaking your head, the bitterness in your expression cutting sharper than words. He stilled, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. It was clear he didn’t like it.

“I heard you insisted on seeing me,” he said softly, his voice smooth but probing, his gaze steady as he studied your face. The words fell from his lips so gently it took you a moment to realize he was actually speaking to you.

“Yes, I did,” you replied, barely looking up. Your voice was small, quiet, almost drowned out by the heavy silence in the room. “But… you were busy.”

“Busy or not, I’m here now.” His tone was firm, but there was a hint of something else beneath it—an attempt at reassurance. “I came as soon as I could.”

“How very gracious of you,” you replied, a faint, hollow laugh escaping before you could stop it. “Finally, I’m worth a fraction of your time. I suppose I should be honoured, Your Majesty.” The sarcasm in your voice was biting, but it wasn’t enough to mask the pain underneath.

His lips pressed into a thin line, his poise undaunted. “Must we do this?” he murmured, his voice low and steady, though his eyes flickered with something—annoyance, perhaps. “Is there a reason for this tone?”

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” you said, the title dripping with venom. You straightened in your chair, meeting his gaze with a cold, practiced civility. “I wouldn’t want to waste your time with my… petty concerns.”

His jaw tightened for a brief moment before he exhaled sharply. “I’ve told you—call me by my name.”

You tilted your head slightly, your brittle smile more painful than any scream could’ve been. “But why should I? That’s all I am to you, isn’t it?” Your voice cracked, barely a whisper. “Another subject. Another burden.”

Something in him shifted. His shoulders tensed, and his eyes flickered with an emotion he didn’t bother to hide. He flinched, but the rest of his face was unreadable as he looked away.

“What is it that troubles you?” he asked finally, his voice softer now, hesitant. It was like a hand reaching out but not quite daring to touch. His eyes searched yours, tender and careful, and for a moment, it made your heart stutter. It almost felt real.

“Nothing that I’d burden Your Majesty with,” you replied, though the lump in your throat begged you to say more. You looked away, unable to face him any longer, unable to let him see the tears threatening to spill.

He sat in silence for a moment, the tension between you thick and unbearable. Then he stood, moving toward you with slow, deliberate steps. You watched him, unable to look away, your body betraying you even as your mind screamed at you to turn your head.

And then, he did something you never expected.

He knelt.

Right in front of you.

Your eyes widened, and for a moment, the air left your lungs. His sudden vulnerability caught you off guard, and you weren’t sure if it terrified you or pulled you deeper into his orbit. A soft, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his lips—a rare sight, one you hadn’t seen before. It made your heart trip over itself.

“Is this about yesterday?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. The words were so soft, yet they hit you with the force of a storm.

Your expression shifted, hardening as you quickly looked away. You wanted to scream at him, to tell him that yes, it was about yesterday, but it wasn’t just that. It was everything. Elizabeth. The loneliness. The weight of being here. But instead, you said nothing. Silence wrapped around you like a shield, protecting you from saying too much.

He sighed, and before you could pull away, his hands reached out to gently take yours. His grip was firm yet tender, and the touch sent warmth flooding through your chest, filling the cracks you’d been trying so hard to hide. Butterflies? No. This was more. It was as if a whole zoo had come alive in your stomach.

“I didn’t know you were there,” he whispered, his voice soft but resolute.

“It doesn’t change much,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. The words stung, but they were true. It didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want you—not really. You couldn’t ignore the nagging thought that this care, this attention, wasn’t because of him, but because of the mate bond. It was forced. Not real.

"I know, I hurt—"

"Oh, you don’t," you cut him off, the words sharp and bitter. "You think you do, but you don’t know how it feels."

You broke the fragile moment, the one you hadn’t even fully tasted before it slipped away.

You pulled your hand from his, the coldness of the empty space between you settling deeper than you expected. He reached for you again, but you flinched back, shaking your head, unable to let him touch you anymore.

His eyes darkened, a flicker of frustration and hurt crossing his face. “why..? You’re being dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head as the hurt bubbled to the surface. “That’s what you call it?” The words burned as they left your lips, raw and unfiltered. “You’ve locked me out so many times, made it painfully clear that I mean nothing to you. I’ve stood by, waiting for something—anything—that might make you see me. But every glance you throw my way feels like a dismissal, like I’m nothing more than a burden you can’t shake. I’ve tried to be strong, tried to hold on to whatever scraps of love you’re willing to give, but it’s never enough, is it? So why am I still here? Why do you keep me close if I’m just a reminder of something you don’t want? I don’t understand. If I mean so little to you, if I’m nothing more than a weight dragging you down, then why can’t you just… Reject me?”

For a moment, his expression hardened, something sharp flashing in his eyes—a warning, a challenge. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by something darker. He stood, towering over you, his presence as commanding as ever. “Because you’re mine,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

The words hit you like a blow. “Yours?” you echoed, your voice cracking as you stood, trembling under the weight of everything you had been holding in. Your chest tightened, your hands clenching into fists at your sides. “You don’t get to claim me when it’s convenient. I’m not a possession you can put on a shelf, to keep or discard as you like.” You took a step closer, your eyes boring into his, hot tears stinging the corners of your vision. “I’m just a fixture here, aren’t I? Bound to you, but always kept at a distance. Never to be seen, never to be named.”

You forced a shaky breath, but it caught in your throat. “And then you left me in the hallway and leave with her,” you spat, voice quivering with hurt, “and I’m supposed to just sit here, waiting, smiling… pretending that it doesn’t rip me apart.” Your hands flew to your temples as if trying to physically hold yourself together, but you couldn’t stop the flood of words pouring out.

His expression barely shifted, his face a mask of unreadable calm. It infuriated you. “Is it about Elizabeth?” he asked, his tone soft, almost placating, but there was no fire, no urgency—nothing close to what you wanted from him.

“Yes. No,” you snapped, the contradictions tearing at you. Your voice grew louder, more erratic. “It’s not just her—it’s everything! It’s you, Jungkook. You keep me in the dark and expect me to just… endure it.”

“She means nothing,” he said, taking a step closer, his voice dropping into something softer, almost tender. His words made you falter, a spark of relief flickering deep in your chest. But it wasn’t enough—not anymore. If she meant nothing, then why had he left you standing there? Why hadn’t he pushed her away? And why was she even here?

“Nothing?” you echoed, a bitter laugh slipping past your lips. “If she’s nothing, then why won’t you tell me the truth? Why won’t you just let me in?” You crossed your arms over your chest, turning away from him as a fresh wave of doubt and pain coursed through you.

The accusation hung in the air like a dagger. His jaw tightened, and for the first time, his carefully guarded mask cracked. His hands clenched at his sides, and his gaze darkened as he took another step closer. "You won't understand and I can't make you"

"Then, it's your chance. Make me understand."

His lips parted, but no words came out. His shoulders sagged, his head dipping slightly as if he couldn’t meet your gaze. “I told you before,” he finally said, his voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the silence. “I’m not capable of love.”

The words shattered something in you. You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and pained. “Not capable of love?” you repeated,

“Not capable… or just not willing?” you demanded, stepping closer to him. Your voice rose but stayed fragile, trembling under the weight of your emotions. “It’s easier, isn’t it? To hide behind your walls, to pretend you’re somehow unfeeling, while I stand here breaking myself for you? I’m hurting, Jungkook, and you’re the reason why. Can’t you see that?”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened as he turned his head, refusing to meet your eyes. His hands hung stiffly by his sides, clenched so tightly you could see the veins on the back of his hands. “You don’t know me as well as you think,” he muttered, voice low and cold.

You laughed bitterly, a hollow sound that cracked in the air. “Then tell me!” you said, your voice breaking with desperation. You took another step toward him, your hands trembling at your sides. “Tell me what it is I don’t know. Tell me why you pull me close one moment and push me away the next. Tell me why I’m here at all if you feel nothing.” Your chest heaved with the effort of holding yourself together, but the dam had already broken. “Tell me why you’d rather leave me in agony than set me free,” you said, your voice quieter now, trembling with raw emotion.

“Enough,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked down, the usual sharpness in his gaze dulled, his shoulders tense but sagging under invisible weight. “Stop… please.”

Your heart clenched at the crack in his voice, but you pushed past it. “No,” you said firmly, shaking your head, the tears in your eyes blurring his figure. “You don’t get to silence me now.” You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as your vision swam. Hot tears spilled over, streaking your cheeks, but you didn’t look away. “Why don’t you let me go, Jungkook? Why do you make me stay, to suffer, if there’s nothing here for me?”

Your voice faltered, a sob catching in your throat. “Why am I here? Why can’t you just… let me go?” The words came out barely audible, your hands lifting helplessly before falling back to your sides.

He stepped toward you, closing the distance. His dark eyes locked onto yours with a fiery intensity, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. “I won’t let you leave,” he said finally, his voice low and rough, like a vow etched in stone.

You stared at him, searching his face for something—anything—that could explain the torment in his eyes. “You won’t… or you can’t?” you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and despair. You felt like you were unravelling, your heart splintering with every second that passed. “Tell me, Jungkook—if it’s not love, then what is it? Pride? Control? What do you want from me? Why should I stay?”

His breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling with restrained intensity. For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression unreadable but his eyes burning with something raw, something untamed. “You’ll stay,” he said at last, his voice soft but laced with possession. His hand reached out as if to touch you but stopped midair, his fingers curling into a fist. “You know that as well as I do.”

You shook your head, a bitter laugh breaking free from your throat. It wasn’t humorous—it was hollow, aching, raw. “So you’ll just keep me here, then? Trapped, waiting, while you go on pretending I don’t exist?” Your voice cracked, the pain slipping through despite your best efforts to hide it. You clenched your fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms as if the sting would ground you.

“Don’t,” he warned, his voice low and sharp, but there was something underneath—something fragile, barely masked. His hands were trembling, ever so slightly, his fingers twitching as if unsure whether to reach for you or stay where they were.

“Don’t what?” you whispered, your voice shaking like the fragile thread you clung to. You took a step closer, daring him to look at you. “Don’t leave? Don’t walk away from this mess?” Your chest heaved as your words tumbled out, the crack in your voice betraying you. “Tell me, Jungkook, how am I supposed to keep holding on when you’ve given me nothing to hold on to?”

For a fleeting moment, something crossed his face—a shadow of regret, or maybe pain—but it vanished so quickly you weren’t even sure it had been there. His jaw tightened, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I never asked you to hold on,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. His gaze flicked away, but the weight of his words hit you like a blow. You scoffed, shaking your head as the pain spilled over, raw and cutting.

“No. You just kept me close enough to stay under your thumb,” you said, stepping back. Your arms wrapped around yourself, a futile attempt to hold yourself together. “Close enough to keep me hoping, waiting… praying that one day you’d look at me and finally see me.”

His head snapped up, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. His expression hardened, sharp and unyielding. “And you think leaving will change that?” His voice was low, almost dangerous, and he took a step toward you, his presence overwhelming.

“I think,” you said, your voice trembling but steady enough to make your point, “that maybe it’s the only way I’ll be free.” Your throat tightened, but you forced the words out. “If I walk away, at least the pain might stop.”

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—fear, maybe—but it was gone just as quickly, replaced by a fierce, unrelenting glare. He took another step closer, towering over you now. “No. You’re not going anywhere,” he said, his voice as sharp as a blade.

His words pressed down on you, suffocating, leaving no room to breathe. The silence stretched between you, heavy and unbearable.

“And what exactly am I supposed to do, then?” Your voice broke, soft and raw, the question barely louder than a whisper. “Just stay here… loving you, hating you, breaking for you… until there’s nothing left of me?”

His expression wavered, just for a moment—his brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly as if to speak. But he said nothing. Instead, he stood there, watching you, his hand reached out pulling you closer from your wrist. You saw it then—the way his eyes lingered, desperate and longing, but something refused to let him reach for you.

“You’ll stay,” he said finally, his voice quieter but no less firm. It was softer now, but the possessiveness in it sent a shiver down your spine. “Because you’re mine. No one else’s. And you’ll never escape me. Not like this.”

He stepped back abruptly, releasing your wrist with a sharp, angry motion. You barely had time to process the emptiness his touch left before he turned on his heel. The door slammed shut behind him with such force that the sound rattled through your bones, echoing in the now-silent room.

You stood there, frozen in place, staring at the closed door as if it held all the answers you’d never get. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, each beat louder than the last. When you finally moved, it was slow, heavy, as if each step dragged you deeper into the void.

“And if I’m yours,” you muttered under your breath, your voice barely audible even to yourself, “then why am I always alone?”

Your legs carried you back to the chair by the window. You sank into it, folding your legs beneath you as you gazed out at the world. The sky was dark, the faint outline of the moon barely visible through the haze. You sat there, unmoving, staring out as if the answers lay somewhere beyond the horizon.

But no tears came. Not tonight. You didn’t have any left.

Time slipped by unnoticed. You didn’t know how long you sat there until the soft knock on the door startled you. The maid stepped in, hesitant, her hands clasped in front of her. A short while later, a tray of food appeared in your room, placed on the table without a word.

You ate mechanically, the food tasteless on your tongue. Each bite felt like an obligation, a necessity to keep going. When the plate was empty, you set it aside, lying down on the bed with a heaviness in your chest you couldn’t name. The ache in your ribs burned—not sharp, but slow and deliberate, like embers soldering beneath your skin. It had no name, no essence, only a relentless existence that refused to be ignored. You closed your eyes, the feeling sinking deeper as sleep pulled you under—a restless, empty escape.

The next morning, you woke with a heaviness lodged deep in your chest, a weight that refused to be ignored. It sat there, unmoving, like a stone pressing against your ribs. With a deep sigh, you pushed yourself up and trudged to the bathroom, your feet dragging against the cold floor. The mirror reflected a face you barely recognized—eyes dull, lips pressed into a flat line, exhaustion etched into every line and curve.

Late again. Well, late by their standards. You weren’t entirely behind schedule; it was just that this place seemed to move at a pace faster than you could keep up with.

Breakfast. You knew it was time. You hurried through your routine, splashing cold water on your face as if it could wash away the lingering fog in your mind. Not today. You weren’t going to let him or his damn thoughts weigh you down. That selfish, arrogant piece of a so-called king could go to hell for all you cared. He didn’t want to open up, didn’t want to tell you what was going on between him and Elizabeth. And he definitely didn’t want you anywhere but locked up in this suffocating prison he called a castle.

And… Screw him.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, the clock on the wall taunted you with its ticking, but you ignored it and made your way out of your quarters, heading toward the dining hall.

The atmosphere shifted the moment you walked in. All heads turned briefly before snapping back to their plates, except for two. You clenched your jaw, your heart thudding as you felt their gazes on you.

You moved to your usual seat beside Jungkook, your footsteps firm despite the tension coiling in your stomach. His presence radiated heat, and you could feel his gaze burning into the side of your face before you even sat down. The maids moved quickly, placing plates of food before you, the clinking of dishes breaking the otherwise suffocating silence.

You picked up your fork, stabbing at the food, but the hunger you’d felt earlier had evaporated. The air was choking you, and your thoughts were wild, scraping at the edges of your sanity like claws on stone. It felt like something was peeling your insides, slow and deliberate, leaving you raw and exposed.

You could feel his stare—intense, possessive, and utterly suffocating. It was rare for him to look at you like this, but it wasn’t entirely unexpected. His wolf wanted you, even if he didn’t. His body would always be drawn to you, no matter how much he tried to resist. You could justify his gaze, explain it away as instinct, nothing more.

But her.

Elizabeth’s stare was another matter entirely. Her gaze lingered, sharp and probing, cutting through the room’s heavy air like a blade. It settled on you, unwavering, making your skin prickle and your breath hitch.

Why was she staring?

The question gnawed at you, but you couldn’t find an answer. Her gaze was too much, too piercing, and it made you acutely aware of yourself—of the way your fingers gripped the fork too tightly, of the way your shoulders tensed as if bracing for an attack.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus on the plate in front of you, but the food blurred as your thoughts spiralled. Her stare burned into you, more than curious, more than observant—it was deliberate, calculated, like she knew something you didn’t.

You shifted in your seat, your knee brushing against Jungkook’s under the table. He stiffened, his gaze snapping back to his plate, but the tension in his body didn’t ease. His fingers tightened around his knife, his knuckles white, as though he was barely holding something back.

The silence was unbearable. The clatter of utensils and the soft murmur of others around the table felt distant, muted, as if you were trapped under a glass dome with only the two of them—him and her—bearing down on you.

But the bigger question—the one gnawing at you like a relentless itch—was why the hell was she still here? Elizabeth’s presence was a thorn lodged in your side, a reminder of every unanswered question and every hollow excuse Jungkook had thrown your way.

“You’re not eating anything.”

Ah, the devil himself had finally chosen to speak. His voice, low and measured, cut through the suffocating silence like a blade. Your fingers froze mid-motion, the fork in your hand hovering above the untouched food. Slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet his.

Jungkook was watching you, his dark eyes simmering with something unspoken—guilt, worry, or maybe a cruel mix of both. But you couldn’t be sure. You were never sure with him. Jungkook was an enigma wrapped in barbed wire—rarely kind, always distant, and painfully unpredictable.

Sometimes, he made you feel like he cared, like there was a sliver of hope buried in the chaos of your bond. Almost. But the illusion always shattered, leaving you with sharp words and deeper wounds. His sweetness twisted in your gut now, bitter and hollow.

Your chest tightened. The urge to speak burned in your throat—to lash out, scream, mock him until he felt the same raw, aching void he’d left in you. You wanted to hurt him, to make him feel heartbroken, alone, unworthy, unlovable.

But you couldn’t.

Your fingers curled tightly around the fork, knuckles white as you swallowed the anger and heartbreak clawing its way up. Instead, you stared at him, your throat thick and eyes glassy, the tears threatening to spill but refusing to fall. No, not anymore.

“I’m not hungry,” you muttered, your voice soft but firm, every bitter word swallowed and dead in your chest.

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice dropped lower, tinged with something almost pleading. “I can feel it.”

Your chest constricted, your jaw tightening. Of course, he’d pull the mate bond card now. Of course, when it suited him.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked, his tone cautious but probing, as if he wasn’t sure how close to the edge you were.

You let out a humourless laugh, the sound sharp and brittle. Slowly, you set the fork down, your movements deliberate as you finally looked up at him. The sarcasm rolled off your tongue, bitter and cutting. “Perfectly,” you said, your lips twisting into a tight smile. “With the graciousness your Majesty has shown me, how could I be anything but?”

The words hit home. You saw it in the way his shoulders stiffened, his jaw tightening. His gaze faltered for a moment, as if the truth of your words had knocked the air out of him.

Good. Let him feel it.

You leaned back slightly, your arms crossing over your chest as you held his gaze, your own eyes sharp and unrelenting. For a second, his mask cracked. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but no words came.

"I…" Jungkook stammered, his voice breaking the thick tension that hung in the air. But honestly? You weren’t interested. Not until he finally acknowledged you as his mate and kicked Elizabeth out of the picture. You knew, deep down, that he told you she meant nothing—but you didn’t believe him. If she meant nothing, then why hadn’t he told her you were his mate when she asked? Why take her somewhere private and leave you alone?

"I… am sorry."

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. Did he just apologize to you? Jungkook never apologized. He was the Lycan king. Apologies were beneath him, or so you thought. Sure, the night before he’d knelt before you, but that had been a moment of private vulnerability—raw, between just the two of you. It felt like something personal, something for mates. But this? Apologizing in front of so many people? It felt different. Public. It made everything real in a way you hadn’t prepared for.

You sat there, frozen, as the shock washed over you. You never knew Jungkook could do something like this. To you, he had always been distant, proud, untouchable. To see him apologize so openly, to show this kind of humility in front of everyone—that was something you had never imagined.

Kian almost choked on his tea, and Shina quickly patted his back, trying to calm him. Even Neil sat there, wide-eyed, dumbfounded. You could barely process the scene unfolding in front of you. Was this real? Was he really saying sorry?

“I never meant to—”

“Junk—” Elizabeth’s voice sliced through the air, cutting him off. Her hand landed on his bicep, the soft pressure of her fingers an all-too-familiar gesture. She was trying to stop him, trying to shield him from the embarrassment she thought he was suffering. You hated it. You hated her for it. You hated that she had the right to touch him. You’d barely ever touched his biceps, and you were his mate.

“Not now, Liz.” Jungkook hissed, his voice low, laced with annoyance.

A sickening wave of satisfaction washed over you. You couldn’t help it. Watching Elizabeth falter, her hand still on his arm, left you with a twisted sense of pleasure. It wasn’t that you wanted her to suffer, but for once, she was the one who was embarrassed, not you. And it felt good.

Maybe… maybe there was still hope. A maybe you weren’t sure you could trust, but it was something. The “what ifs” flooded your mind. You couldn’t stop yourself from hoping, but deep down, you were afraid to. You had too many “maybes” in your life already. Your mind told you to have faith, but your heart screamed that he didn’t care. And for now, you wouldn’t give him the chance to prove you wrong.

Jungkook didn’t finish his sentence. And neither you nor anyone else spoke a word. The table grew quiet as everyone awkwardly shifted, unsure what to say next.

You timidly picked at your food, your appetite lost to the storm of thoughts swirling in your mind. Jungkook’s gaze never left you. You could feel the weight of it, pressing against your skin like a hand on your chest. He wanted to speak. You could feel it in the air. But why should you care? He was so reluctant to even acknowledge you as his mate. Let him stew in his silence. You didn’t need him to say anything.

You stood up, brushing past him without a second glance. Every part of you wanted to scream, to shout at him for making you feel so small, but you swallowed it down. You weren’t going to let him see how much his lack of effort had hurt you.

You walked back to your room, the space around you growing colder with every step. The silence in the hall was deafening, only broken by the echo of your footsteps. You didn’t wait for anyone. You couldn’t. The emotional drain weighed too heavily on you. He was the one who had caused it, but maybe you were to blame too. You had expected too much from someone who wasn’t even willing to do the bare minimum.

As you reached your room, you collapsed onto the bed. Your body felt heavy, your heart aching with exhaustion. The weight of the day, of the constant tension, pulled you under. You didn’t want to cry anymore, but you had nothing left. You’d given everything to someone who wouldn’t even meet you halfway. Your hands curled into fists at your sides, your breathing shallow and ragged.

Get over it. The voice in your head was sharp, relentless. But your heart wasn’t ready. How could it be? How could you keep going when all you wanted was for him to just see you? For once. Just once.

You thought it would be a good idea to wander around the palace, especially since Shina had told you she wouldn’t be available today due to pack business. Everyone seemed busy, but you didn’t seem to have anything to do. You hadn't shifted in days, and there was a strange, restless itch building inside you, gnawing at your insides. You could feel your wolf pushing, demanding freedom. It had been too long. You needed to shift, even for just a few minutes, or else things were about to get ugly. You had no doubt your wolf would force it, and when that happened... it wouldn't be pretty.

You pushed yourself off the bed and walked out of the palace, the cold air feeling sharp against your skin. You didn’t know the palace grounds all that well, but you figured you’d stick to the parts you were familiar with—just enough to avoid getting lost. Soon enough, you found yourself at the training field, watching the warriors move with precision and grace. The thud of fists against the pads and the sharp crack of kicks against wood echoed in the air. You could feel the heat of their movements, the raw power and skill radiating off them, but you were stuck on the outside looking in. How much you wished you could join.

You stood there, eyes tracing the motions, and for a moment, it felt like your body might shift without your permission. You needed this. But...

"Luna?" The soft, familiar voice called from behind you, interrupting the swirl of thoughts in your mind. You tensed, shoulders stiffening, and turned around to find Neil standing there, a casual grin on his face.

"What are you doing here?" He chuckled lightly, his voice warm, but there was something in his eyes that made you want to shrink away.

"Nothing," you replied quickly, your words fumbling, "I— I was just wandering around."

Your gaze automatically flicked back to the training field, your chest tightening as you watched them move. The warrior’s bodies flowed like water, each punch, kick, and lunge so fluid. How much you wanted to be part of it.

“All are so good,” you muttered under your breath, a smile tugging at your lips, even though it felt like it was stuck there—forced. "Wish I could join."

Neil watched you for a moment, his expression shifting, softening. He glanced at the warriors before his gaze returned to you. “Why don’t you talk to His Majesty?” he suggested, his voice thoughtful, almost too casual for the weight of his words.

You felt your chest tighten at the mention of Jungkook. The thought of speaking to him… It sent a wave of unease crashing over you. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck. You thought about it for a long time, but no matter how much you wanted to try, the fear of what might happen if you did kept you rooted to the spot.

"I should probably leave,” he muttered, “They must be waiting." With a small nod, he turned and walked away, the light sound of his footsteps fading as he left you standing there alone with your thoughts.

You wanted to speak to Jungkook. You really did. But after everything that happened last night, after the fight that left your heart aching and your mind spinning, you weren’t sure if you had the strength left. You had so much to say—so many things building up inside of you, but each time you thought about it, your chest tightened. The words felt heavy, impossible.

What was the point, anyway? The few moments of affection he’d shown you were quickly overshadowed by the coldness in his words, the brutality that cut deeper than you were willing to admit. Mate or not, you were nothing more than an obligation to him. And that was the bitter truth.

You no longer knew how to even begin, let alone find the strength to confront him. You were tangled in your own feelings, drowning in uncertainty. You didn’t know if you could handle more of his indifference, more of his careless cruelty. The thought of facing him again felt suffocating. Every step forward only seemed to lead to another moment of doubt, and you weren’t sure you could survive it.

But there was something in you that knew, deep down, if you wanted to join the training, you had to speak to him. You had to.

You took a deep breath, your chest rising and falling with the weight of it. Your palms were clammy, your heart thudding against your ribs as you pushed yourself to move. Every step you took felt heavier than the last, but you kept going. The passage to his quarters was short, but with each step, the air around you seemed to grow thicker, your mind louder.

As you reached Jungkook’s quarters, you felt a strange mix of relief and dread. No one stopped you this time. You were finally close enough to knock when, unexpectedly, you heard her voice—the one you dreaded. Elizabeth.

“Jungkook, why won’t you answer me?” Her voice was soft, but there was an unmistakable edge to it that made your stomach twist. You stopped, your hand hovering near the door. She’s here? Why can’t she just leave him alone?, you thought. You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as frustration burned inside you. Why was she always around your mate?

His voice followed, calm but firm, “Liz, I don’t owe you an answer.”

Your feet were frozen, but a sudden urge to leave washed over you. To turn around and run, back to your room, to hide away from everything. But then, you reminded yourself of why you came here. You had to face him. You had to stop letting her get to you.

You pushed the door open quietly, stepping inside. The soft creak of the door echoed in the silence. Two pairs of eyes snapped to you instantly. His—calm, unreadable—yet there was a subtle shift in his posture. Relaxed, but you could see the faintest sign of something softer in his gaze. He was not mad? But her—her eyes burned into you, cold and hard. You could almost feel the chill radiating from her.

Jungkook sat in a leather chair, papers scattered across his desk. She stood, poised but rigid beside him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The way she stands, so close to him...

You shifted uncomfortably, but before you could even greet him, Elizabeth spoke up, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I suppose knocking is just too old-fashioned for some people.” Her words felt like a slap to your face. Why is she like this? What have I ever done to her?, you thought.

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to snap back. But before you could respond, Jungkook’s voice cut through the tension, softer but firm.

“Liz, could you please leave us alone for some time?” he asked, his words so gentle, it almost felt like he was speaking to a child. But she didn’t want to go, you could see it in the way her lips tightened, the way her hands clenched at her sides. Still, with a final, almost spiteful glance at you, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

The door clicked softly as it shut behind her, and for a split second, it felt like you could breathe again. "Don't stand. Sit," Jungkook said, his voice low but commanding, his eyes still locked onto you. The intensity of his gaze made your knees wobble, but you refused to let him see it. You lowered yourself into the chair across from him, trying to ignore the way your heart raced under his piercing stare.

“I’m sorry. I should have knocked first,” you murmured, your hands shaking slightly as you folded them in your lap, not daring to look up at him.

“Don’t care,” was all he gave you, his voice flat and distant, like he couldn’t care less about you barging in. His focus shifted to the papers in front of him, his fingers grazing over the edges as he scanned them. The nonchalance in his demeanour unsettled you. Why is he so calm?

You watched him for a moment, his steady hands flicking through the pages, not sparing you a second glance. It was so easy for him, so effortless. You couldn’t understand it. Why does he seem so unaffected by all of this? But you weren’t here to wonder about his behaviour. You came here for something. You came here to speak your mind. Taking a deep breath, you straightened in your seat, forcing your voice steady, even though your heart was pounding in your chest. You could do this. You had to.

"I want to join the training—" you started, but Jungkook didn’t even give you the chance to finish.

“No,” he cut you off, his voice low and final. His hand didn’t stop moving as he scribbled on the paper in front of him, the sound of his pen against the paper somehow louder than your heart pounding in your chest.

You blinked, taken aback. “No?” you repeated, a frown pulling at your lips.

“No” he confirmed.

“Just like that?”

He didn’t look up. His gaze was fixed on the papers before him, unflinching, unmoving. “Just like that.”

The words stung. You felt your jaw tighten, a rush of heat rising to your face. How can he be so dismissive? You took a deep breath, trying to rein in the frustration bubbling up in you. “Why not? It’s important to me.”

“Because I said so.” His tone was cold, matter-of-fact, as if this was something he dealt with every day.

Your teeth ground together, your fists clenching at your sides. This is not happening. You could feel the anger building in your chest, but you swallowed it down, forcing the words through gritted teeth. “So that’s it? I don’t get a say?”

“That’s correct,” he murmured, not even sparing you a glance. His pen continued to move across the page.

You felt your hands tremble, and you fought to keep your composure. This is ridiculous. “I trained every day in my old pack. It’s not like I’m asking for something impossible, Jungkook.”

“It’s not happening,” he replied, his voice almost too calm. His eyes didn’t leave the paper, the brush of his fingers against the document so effortless it made you feel invisible. “It’s for your own good.”

You let out a shaky breath, fighting the urge to let your frustration spill over. For my own good? A bitter laugh nearly escaped your lips. You pressed your lips together, shaking your head. "For my own good? Since when have you cared about my own good?"

At that, a faint twitch of his jaw betrayed his calm composure, but he quickly masked it with a deep breath, keeping his attention on the papers. “Since always,” he said, the words rolling off his tongue as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’re my Luna, my Queen. I’d be reckless to let you get hurt.”

The bile in your throat rose, and for a moment, you thought you might snap. Luna? Queen? And… his? You swallowed hard, pushing it down. Riling him up would only make things worse. You needed to remain patient. If he wants to play this game, fine. Let’s play it.

“Oh, for crying out loud, Jungkook!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air, the frustration evident in every fibre of your being. “I’ve trained for years. I am not a porcelain doll. I’m capable. I’m not going to trip over my own feet!” You stood up, your chair scraping loudly against the floor as you stormed over to him, your fists clenched at your sides.

“Good to know,” he replied, not even flinching, his eyes still glued to the paper in front of him. “Still a no.”

You leaned over the desk, your body tense, staring him down with fire in your eyes. “What, you don’t think I can handle it?”

“Oh, I think you’re perfectly capable,” he said without missing a beat, his tone still annoyingly calm. “But again, no.”

You let out an exasperated breath, throwing your hands up in the air again. This is insane. “Are you even trying to understand how important this is to me?”

“Of course,” he said, voice level, as though this was a simple conversation about the weather.

“And yet… no?” you huffed, hands dropping to your hips as you struggled to keep your composure. You let your shoulders sag for a moment before you softened your voice, changing your approach. “Jungkook… please?”

He arched an eyebrow, glancing up at you with a hint of amusement. His lips twitched in a smirk that made your heart flutter with irritation and something else that you were in no position to acknowledge. “Very polite. Still no.”

You bit your lip, a small flare of embarrassment mixed with your growing frustration. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks. Fine. If he wanted to play stubborn, you could do that too. You stoop up, darting around his desk. You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a softer, more coaxing tone. “Come on… it’s not like you can’t handle me in training, right?” Your breath brushed against his cheek, and you saw a brief flicker of something in his eyes, but it was gone before you could read it.

His hand paused, just for a second, but then he pushed his chair back with a sharp scrape. You almost stumbled forward, catching yourself just in time. He didn’t look at you as he spoke, his voice low, yet entirely unaffected. “No doubt I could handle it,” he murmured, his eyes already back on his papers. “Still no.”

You narrowed your eyes, frustration mounting. I’m not giving up. You lowered your voice again, your tone soft but undeniably sultry, the words slipping from your lips like silk. “I’d love to see you train too. I know you’re incredible with your strength… your precision…” You crouched down to pick up the paper that had fallen from his hand, your movements slow and deliberate as you locked eyes with him. You swore you saw something darker flicker in his gaze, but he blinked it away, a mask of indifference quickly settling in.

He arched an eyebrow, glancing at you briefly, the barest hint of a smile curling his lips. But then he just went back to his work, unfazed. “Glad to know you appreciate my work ethic,” he said flatly. “Still a no.”

Your stomach churned with embarrassment. You’d never felt this exposed in your life. What the hell am I doing wrong? You clenched your fists, the urge to scream gnawing at you. You had never met someone so infuriatingly unyielding. You wanted to tear your hair out. No. You wanted to tear his hair out.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” You hissed, your voice low with frustration, your nails digging into your palms. “Some have said so,” he replied, his voice laced with a quiet amusement. The barest hint of a smile played at the corner of his lips. He didn’t even bother to look at you as he scribbled something on the page. “Glad to see you agree.”

You ground your teeth, tapping your fingers impatiently against the edge of his desk. “What if I just show up anyway?”

“You won’t,” he replied, a soft chuckle escaping him. “You’d follow the rules.”

“Don’t bet on it,” you muttered under your breath, barely stopping yourself from grabbing one of his papers and crumpling it just to get his attention.

He shrugged nonchalantly, eyes still glued to the paper. “Suit yourself.”

You groaned, sinking back into the chair with a frustrated huff, slouching as you glared at him. This is unbelievable. “Unbelievable.”

“Glad we’re in agreement,” he said, his voice smooth, still not looking up from his papers.

“Oh, you’re insufferable!” You practically shouted, your fists clenched, every inch of you vibrating with the need to scream.

He shrugged again, entirely unbothered by your outburst. “That’s what they all say.”

You stared at him for a moment, chest heaving with anger. “So that’s it? You’re not going to consider my feelings at all?”

He sighed, an exaggerated puff of air escaping his lips. His eyes briefly flicked up to meet yours, and you saw the faintest glimmer of something—amusement, Delight, impatience?—before he wiped it away, giving you a look of fake patience.

“I am considering your feelings, sweet mate,” he said, each word deliberately slow. “Which is why I’m saying NO. End of story.”

Your chest tightened as his words hit you like a physical blow. Without another word, you spun on your heel, stalking out of his study. Every step felt like you were carrying the weight of the world, the anger, the frustration, the sheer helplessness seeping into your every movement. You didn’t get far before you heard him call out, his voice oddly casual.

“Don’t forget to shut the door.”

You resisted the urge to shout back, your fists clenched at your sides as you walked away. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to scream or just throw something at the wall to get his attention. But you kept walking, each step filled with the same frustration that made you feel like you might just lose it. How could someone be so frustrating?

You couldn’t understand if it was him being impossible… or if you were just terrible at this. Either way, you hated it. You hated everything about this.

You needed space—anything to escape the frustration that clung to you like a second skin. You wandered into the garden, the scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers doing little to calm your racing thoughts. Your feet moved with no real direction, just the need to be anywhere but near him.

You felt the familiar itch beneath your skin, a restlessness that only came when you hadn't shifted in days. Your body felt tight, like a coil wound too tightly, ready to snap. You needed to get out, to find somewhere open, but Jungkook's control over every inch of your life kept you locked inside. It didn’t matter that you weren’t restricted from shifting. Without his approval, you couldn’t leave the palace.

You kicked a small pebble from the path and watched it soar through the air, landing with a soft thud on… him. Great, today just gets better, you thought bitterly. The worst part? It hit someone and you were already mortified enough. You froze, eyes wide, as the man began walking toward you.

“Luna.” Kenji’s voice was low, his tone holding a touch of amusement. “You could have just called my name, you know. That's not how you call people.”

You couldn’t help but stare at him, the irritation still simmering beneath the surface. There was something so infuriatingly cute about his serious expression when he spoke.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” you muttered, not meeting his gaze.

Kenji raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a playful smile. “You didn’t?”

You just shook your head, staring down at the ground, trying to avoid his eyes.

“What’s got you looking so down?” he asked, his voice softening. He wasn’t the type to press for answers, but something in your posture must have given it away.

“Nothing, really,” you said, but the words felt hollow. You hesitated, then added, “Actually, I want to join the training too, but Jungkook won’t let me.”

Kenji tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “His Majesty must have his reasons.”

You forced a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. His words hit something raw inside you, making your irritation burn even hotter. You clenched your fists at your sides, the annoyance seeping into your features. “I get it, but… why are you taking his side?”

He chuckled softly, clearly not catching the edge in your tone. “You look scary when you do that,” he said.

“Do I?” You raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with a pointed look.

Kenji nodded slowly, but the smirk never left his lips. You exhaled sharply, trying to steady your breathing. “I just want to train. Is that too much to ask?”

Kenji laughed, the sound light and easy. “You’re cute when you whine.”

Your cheeks flushed, heat rising under your skin. You hated how it made you feel, but you didn’t have the energy to fight it. He sobered quickly, glancing around as if to make sure no one else was listening. “If anyone heard me say that and told His Majesty, he’d have my head.”

“Jungkook doesn’t care,” you muttered, but the words felt empty. You didn’t even believe them anymore.

Kenji chuckled, shaking his head. “You have no idea, Luna.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You crossed your arms, eyes narrowing.

Kenji just shook his head again, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Nothing.”

“Alright, I’m heading back now,” you said.

“Please let me escort you,” he offered, the hint of concern back in his tone.

You shook your head, irritation creeping back into your chest. “I’m fine.”

“If you say so,” Kenji said, still unconvinced. “I’m just worried you’ll get lost again.”

You froze, the memory of your last misadventure flashing in your mind. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you shot him a glare. “I don’t get lost,” you muttered, a small growl slipping out.

Kenji’s laughter echoed around you, carefree. “Why are you looking at me like that, Luna? I mean, it’s perfectly normal to get lost. Even I do sometimes.”

You hated that he was trying to make light of it. Was he genuinely trying to make you feel better? Or was he just poking fun at your expense? You didn’t have the energy to figure it out. Instead, you just glared at him, biting your lip to keep your irritation in check.

Without saying another word, you turned and started walking toward your quarters, your steps quick and deliberate. Kenji called after you, but you didn’t respond.

You sank into the chair by the window, staring out at the world outside. The soft orange glow of the setting sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows over the garden below. People passed by, lost in their own lives, oblivious to the tangled mess you were caught in. For the first time in a while, you felt a semblance of peace. The day had been quiet—calm, even. A rare moment of reprieve. Progress, right?

But that fragile calm shattered the moment the door to your room creaked open. You didn’t even have time to register the movement before you turned, and there she stood. Elizabeth. Your heart dropped into your stomach as shock froze you in place. What was she doing here? In your room? Your space?

"I believe I don’t need to introduce myself," she said, her voice smooth, confident. But there was something sharp beneath it. Her eyes—red-rimmed, dark with pain and something colder—never left you. Her gaze was like a weight, bearing down on you.

You swallowed, unable to form words as she took a step forward. "You’re probably wondering why I’m here," she continued, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "Or perhaps the real question is... what exactly is my connection to your mate?"

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You blinked, your pulse picking up. What? You couldn’t keep the shock from showing on your face, and she noticed. She chuckled softly at your expression, that mocking, knowing look still lingering in her eyes.

"I’ll tell you, though we both know he won’t," she said, her voice dipping into a taunting tone. "Tell me, Luna… how old are you?"

The word Luna felt like a slap coming from her, and you clenched your fists at your sides, a tightness in your chest that wasn’t just from her words. It was something darker, something you couldn’t quite name. You bit your lip, trying to hold it together. But then she asked again, her voice sharp, pulling you back to the moment.

“Twenty-five,” you whispered, barely above a breath.

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied you. "Yes. And as we both know… we typically find our mates around…?"

“Eighteen,” you responded, your voice almost distant. The numbers didn’t matter. What mattered was what she was saying. Where was this going?

“Right. By eighteen,” she murmured, a bitter edge creeping into her voice. "And yet… he hadn’t. Not until now."

You felt a coldness creeping over you. You already knew the next part, but hearing her say it out loud made your stomach turn.

"I… don’t have a mate," she continued, her voice soft but edged with an anger that made your skin prickle. "I’ve never had one. Mate-lessness is a cruel fate, but it happens."

A part of you wanted to feel sorry for her, but the rest of you was on alert. You knew exactly where this was going, and it sent a cold shiver down your spine.

She paused, taking a breath that sounded too controlled. Her eyes flicked back to you, the anger sharpening in her features. “For years, my father believed that since Jungkook had no mate… perhaps he and I could…” Her voice trailed off, but the bitterness was clear. You didn’t need her to finish that sentence.

"Then… my father found out Jungkook still hadn’t claimed anyone." Elizabeth’s smirk was all mockery now, as if she’d won some silent battle. "It seemed like everything was… in place."

You felt heat rush to your face, a sick, simmering anger rising up from deep inside. Jungkook. How could he do this? How could he let them believe that there was a chance? The rage roiled in your chest, but you swallowed it down, focusing on her words. You clenched your jaw, pushing it down. The rage bubbling up inside you was almost too much to control. How could he do this? How could he disregard you so easily, so completely? You had never felt smaller. To know that Jungkook hadn't told Elder Mathew the truth—it felt like a slap in the face. Even after knowing what Elder Mathew was thinking, he still choose to hide the truth. Jungkook had allowed him to continue believing there was a chance for his daughter to claim him. Your breath hitched as the bitter sting of betrayal tightened its grip on you.

Humiliated.

That was the only word that seemed to capture the feeling. You felt your chest tighten, your hands trembling as you fought to hold it all together. He didn’t even have the decency to tell me.

"I never knew he had a mate," she said softly, her gaze softening only for a second. But there was something else in her eyes now—something darker. Envy. Disdain. Hate. It was all there, hidden beneath the surface.

“Well, you know now,” you said, your voice steady even though everything in you was screaming to lash out. She tilted her head, her lips curling into a thin smile.

“Yes. He told me himself,” she said. There was something cold in her words, and for a split second, you felt your heart skip a beat. The idea of what Jungkook could have said—it burned at you, but you wouldn’t ask. You couldn’t ask.

"what did he say?" well, here you go…

“He said that he couldn’t betray the bond,” she said, her words hanging in the air like a weight you couldn’t shake off. It felt like the ground beneath you cracked open, but you didn’t fall. The ache in your chest was quiet at first, like the first stirrings of a storm. It settled in your bones, the truth spreading, too cold to ignore.

You exhaled slowly, the words settling over you. The bond. The very thing that kept you tethered to him, kept you bound to this cruel fate. He couldn’t betray the bond.

For a second, it almost felt like the weight of it all lifted, like you could breathe again. But then reality slammed into you—the truth of it. He couldn’t betray the bond. but... what about you? All he cared about was bond not you, never you. He hadn’t claimed you. He’d hidden you. Hidden your bond like it was something to be ashamed of. The words she said, even if they were tainted with bitterness, felt like a cruel mirror, reflecting the truth you were too scared to face.

The ache in your chest grew, gnawing at you. He might not have betrayed the bond, but had he chosen you? Or were you simply his obligation? He hadn't said he loved you. Nothing of the sort—just that he couldn't betray the bond. The bond? What about you?

"That's why I’m here," Elizabeth said, her voice steady, but there was an edge to it—something dark lurking just beneath the surface.

You frowned, a chill running down your spine as you tried to piece together her meaning. "What do you mean?"

Her eyes met yours, sharp and unwavering. She stood up and took a step closer, but you didn't move. Her gaze pinned you to the spot, as if daring you to look away.

"I wanted to meet you," she replied, though the way she said it sent a shiver crawling up your spine. “But don’t misunderstand. I’m not here to give him up.”

Her words cut through you like a knife, each one slicing away at the delicate control you’d been trying so hard to maintain. Your heart plummeted. The truth of her meaning was as sharp as it was clear. All the sympathy you might’ve felt for her dissolved in an instant, replaced by a wave of anger so sudden it left you gasping for breath.

“Jungkook and I, we’ve always been close,” she continued, her voice softening just enough to carry a twisted, sickly nostalgia. "Since we were children. I have always loved him. I was there when he grew, when he… changed.” Her eyes drifted away from yours, her expression softening for just a moment as if remembering something from the past, but it quickly turned cold again. "I have loved him in ways that... no one else can understand."

She paused, and a bitter smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. Her lips were twisted, but her eyes betrayed her—bright and sharp, yet full of something unshed. Tears, you realized. She was trying to hide them, but you could see it—the faint trembling of her bottom lip, the way she had to blink harder to push them back.

“When I turned eighteen,” she whispered, her voice hollow, almost broken, “I prayed to the moon goddess every night to make him mine.” The words spilled from her like a confession, but the way she spoke—slow, measured—made your stomach turn. She was too used to this pain. Too used to wanting something she couldn’t have.

"But then, when I found out he wasn’t my mate…" Her voice cracked just slightly, and she paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. She forced herself to breathe, but you could see the fury flicker in her eyes, burning brighter than before. "I cried for days. And when I realized I had no mate... I started praying again."

Her gaze locked onto you, her eyes darkening as she leaned forward, just an inch. The air between you crackled with tension. She didn’t have to say it. You already knew what came next.

“This time," she murmured, her voice dripping with a sickly sweetness that made your skin crawl, "I prayed he’d never find a mate either."

You swallowed hard, your breath coming out in a tight, controlled hiss. This woman… Your mind was racing, your pulse thundering in your ears as the words burned their way into you.

“I know it’s selfish," she continued, the twisted sweetness in her voice turning darker, more possessive, "But I have loved him my whole life. And that won’t change, mate bond or not.”

Her face twisted again, but this time, the expression was different—something darker. Her eyes narrowed, her lips pulled into a twisted, almost feral smile. She took a step closer, the coldness in her gaze making the distance between you feel vast and suffocating.

“I want him,” she said, her voice low and filled with an unsettling certainty. “And I will have him.”

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and you felt every fibre of your being coil with anger. Your breath caught, the tightness in your chest making it hard to speak. She didn’t even flinch as she delivered the final blow.

"You came all this way just to tell me that?" you managed, your voice dangerously calm, though every muscle in your body was tense, coiled and ready to snap. You looked at her, fighting to keep your tone neutral, but the bitterness inside you was clear.

Her lips curled into a smug, almost predatory smile as she tilted her head, like a cat toying with a mouse. She knew how much it hurt.

“I thought you deserved to know,” she said, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. "Better than letting you think it would all be... behind your back."

Your jaw clenched, the taste of her words souring in your mouth. You fought to keep the sting from showing on your face, but it was impossible. How dare she?

“How... thoughtful of you,” you replied, each word laced with barely restrained sarcasm, your voice sharp enough to cut through the tension thick in the room. The anger simmered just beneath the surface, but you held it back, for now.

She laughed, but it wasn’t a real laugh. It was bitter, mocking—sharp enough to tear at your heart. The sound echoed in your chest, twisting something dark and tight inside you. The anger bubbling inside of you now felt different. It felt like fire, something raw and uncontrollable. You didn’t even know you were capable of feeling this much.

You stared at her, praying the moon goddess would take pity on you and just make her leave. Because if she said one more thing, you knew you’d lose it. You could already feel it—if you didn’t get her to go, the rage inside would break free, and that wouldn’t be very queen-like, would it?

Her presence felt like a weight on your chest, suffocating, like she was pressing down on your very soul. You couldn’t stand it. The way she stood there, smug and triumphant, was like a slap to your face. You didn’t enjoy this—this taunting game—but you knew why she was here. She had two reasons, you realized, as her eyes locked onto yours, cold and calculating.

One: She was hurt, feeling banned. She had finally lost something she never truly had, but in her mind, she thought it was always hers to take. The delusion had kept her going for so long, and now that it was gone, she was miserable. Two: She wanted you to feel what she felt. Every ounce of pain, every scrape of loss. The feeling of something just slipping out of your grasp, like you were so close to holding it and then poof—gone. She wanted you to understand the ache of not belonging, of being left behind, the ache of being left with nothing but empty hands.

And, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you understood. You felt the same. The pain, the coldness from your own mate, the way he barely seemed to see you—It hurt. It burned in a way you weren’t prepared for.

But then a darker thought crept into your mind, a fear you hadn’t allowed yourself to face before. What if Jungkook didn’t want you? What if he never would? He had made it clear, time and time again—he didn't care. He was cold, indifferent to your presence, to your pain. You were nothing to him.

You could feel the tremor of fear crawling up your spine, tightening your chest. He told her that he had you, but he wasn't ready to accept you. He might not have wanted her yet, but how long would that last? Sooner or later, he had to choose. He would have to.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a second, the thought burning in your mind like a brand. Your heart was hammering in your chest as the realization hit you—he might never choose you, not because of the her, but because he simply didn’t care enough. But, the mate bond wouldn't let him choose her.

Was there anything you could do?

There was no choice for you. No real choice, was there? Stay here and let the fear drown you, or fight. Fight for him. Fight to make him see you, make him feel for you, even though every inch of you knew he wasn’t ready for that. You took a shaky breath, your hands trembling as you gripped the edge of the threshold of the window, in front of you.

Fight.

You had to fight.

But how? How could you make him fall when all you had was your hope and a burning need for something that might never come?

You didn’t have a choice anymore. You couldn’t leave. He wouldn’t let you. And, you couldn’t let her have your mate.

And so, standing there, torn between rage and fear, the only thing you could do was make your choice.

Let me know how you feel about it—love it, hate it, whatever, I’m all ears! Text, asks, comments, dramatic rants, or even a drabble request—anything goes. Character asks? Open too! So, send something my way if you want. No pressure, though. (But maybe just a little pressure?)

Also, a HUGE thank you for reading it. If you liked it or reblogged it, just know I love you. Like, a lot. You're the MVP of my little corner of chaos.

#kookiewithluv #ashes of promises #bts ffs #bts ff #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fiction #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook bts #jungkook bangtan #jeon jungguk #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you

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yoonieper · 3 months ago

Text

For the Birds— Part 5 | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (feat. Yuri)

♡ Genre: angst, smut, future fluff!, this chapter is pretty much pWITHp (can be read alone)~

♡ Rated: T for Tension

♡ Chapter Warnings: spicyyyy, Jk is a bit of a dick, Y/n stands up for herself, major tension, emotions are flowing, slightly subby Jungkook makes a bit of an appearance, thigh riding (m ;D), masturbation (f), public(ish) sex, hand job, protected sex (be smart friends <3)

♡ Word Count: 17.5k

♡ Summary: As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Now Playing: Somebody Else by Maxine Ashley— see masterlist for playlist!

♡ Beta: Thank you so much to @mellowladyanchor for reading this part for me! If you’re interested in betaing a future part, dm me! If you're interested in becoming a permanent beta for this series please first click here and refer to 'details about the job' section for more details and dm for any questions you might have! Betas get early access to chapters, so if you're free to help out and can't wait for next chapter, consider joining the team!!!

♡ Author’s Note: Sorry for the delay friends! The end of last month was a bit hectic for me and then I got sick delaying me even more :') This might happen a lot more often where the schedule I have on the masterlist might diverge from when I can actually get the chapter out because college has started for me once again, so things in my life might get in the way a little more often of editing and ultimately publishing 😭 Thank you all so much for waiting, your patience, and I hope you all enjoy this different type of chapter :D Anyway, this is The Office Sexcapades Part 1 ;)

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D

previous chapter « main masterlist ✩ series masterlist » coming 9/15

After you and Jungkook parted ways, you thought things had finally changed between you two. Maybe not entirely, but you wanted to believe you had turned over a new leaf in your relationship. You thought you had extinguished, or at least simmered, the animosity you felt for each other and something strange but new had started to take its place. You honestly didn’t mind it.

You had left the storage room with a dopey smile plastered on your face and a weird pep in your step as you made your way back to your desk. The man you hated only a month ago had managed to send you to another dimension and you still hadn’t come back yet. You felt high in the best way possible and there was some part of you that didn’t want to leave his side when you both agreed you probably had been gone too long. You even gave him a hug before you left the room, Jungkook mumbling a sweet “thank you” into your hair before you pulled away to leave.

It was all still a bit weird, but you wanted to think that this was all the confirmation you needed that things had truly changed between you two. Was it complicated? Yes, this shift was the result of an affair, which wasn’t a solid foundation whatsoever, but the change in your relationship wasn��t entirely bad. At least you didn’t hate each other anymore.

However, you were in for a shock when you came into work on Monday.

THUNK

The first thing you were greeted with was Director Son being back (yay!). However, before you could even process his return, he was setting a mountain of paperwork on your desk. The size of the stack was far beyond a reasonable workload. It was so tall, even your coworkers could easily see it through the window of your office without needing to crane their necks over their computer screens.

After you paid your respects and welcomed Director Son back, you finally asked what the pile of paperwork on your desk was all about because it just had to be a joke or a prank. You were ready for someone to jump out with a phone in hand laughing hysterically at the face you made that was now recorded for everyone to see.

“Beats me, I just got back today. All I know is that it comes straight from Director Jeon,” he had sighed in sympathy. You scanned the faces of the rest of the team who were standing outside your office. No one was stifling a laugh, trying their absolute hardest to make this as believable as possible. Instead, they sent you worried glances and sympathetic looks as they quietly gasped at the outrageous amount of paperwork.

When Taehyung arrived at the office, he came up to you during the chaos of it all. “Woah? What did you do to piss him off this time?” He chuckled lightly, but you could hear the undertone of concern.

For a second, you tried to rack your brain to see if you could remember if Jungkook had mentioned he would be sending you a lot of work on Monday, anything he said that could have possibly rationalized this. You came up with nothing.

The details from Friday had been ingrained into your memory at the highest definition. You were practically still experiencing it first hand— every sight, sound, touch, and taste from that day. The chance of you forgetting him telling you about a workload of this magnitude was next to none. The moments you spent with him especially were vibrant; the clarity was irrefutably against the possibility of it simply having slipped your mind. At no point on Friday had he mentioned anything to you about work, or even sent you a text over the weekend to let you know what you’d find on your desk on Monday. He’d completely blindsided you.

Knowing Jeon Jungkook, there was only one reason he would assign you this much work without warning. Mr. Jeon Jungkook, Head Director Jeon, Director Jeon, or what he had urged you to call him so casually, Jungkook, was pissed off, and there was no doubt in your mind that his anger was directed at you.

As Taehyung waited for your answer, you had to stop yourself from instantly bursting into tears. It was not just because you knew you would be stuck at the office all night because of how much work you had to do, but also because after everything you shared together, he was suddenly being a dick to you… again?

Why? What could you have possibly done to him to make him hate you again with so much vigor that he would assign you this mountain of paperwork in the middle of the chaos of Q4? Had Friday meant nothing after all? Were you just another hole he used to take out his sexual frustration from his marriage? Had those sad, round, sweet eyes and pleas been nothing but a lure to get you to agree to the affair? In any normal situation, you would have never gone along with it in a billion years. Maybe he had seen right through your guise and did whatever was necessary to get his dick wet. Maybe he was through with you, the allure was gone, the fantasy was broken, and he wanted nothing more than to punish you for your stupidity and believing his silly act. Or maybe it wasn’t so complicated. Maybe it was simply your fault for thinking things had changed between you two.

You had to resist marching straight to his office to give him a piece of your mind, but you didn’t have the energy, time, or desire to create a scene. Instead, you took a few deep breaths, headed to the bathroom to quickly dry your watery eyes, and marched out ready to tackle the workload.

It took you all night and well into the early morning hours to get everything done. It was tedious, detailed, and you knew Jungkook purposely gave it to you in paper form to make it that much more challenging to complete. In your peripheral vision throughout the night, you saw your coworkers say their goodbyes before leaving for their lives outside the office. You even saw Jungkook himself, normally someone who stayed far beyond a reasonable time, pass by and head down the hall to the elevators before you were even halfway done.

The office had turned dark and your eyes were strained from staring at your computer screen and the tiny font on the papers for far too long, but you saw him. You heard the sound of his fancy dress shoes clicking against the tile first, and even though you tried not to look up, you noticed him pass by through the window. You heard his pace slow down, probably just wanting to see you and relish in your suffering. You felt his eyes linger on your form, but you didn’t dare make eye contact. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. You kept your eyes on your work as his footsteps faded into the distance. You truly felt done with him.

Over the next few days, Jungkook would hardly look at you during the rare occasions you’d be near each other. It wasn’t like you had grown close anyway, but whenever you were in the same room you’d normally make a little small talk to ease the tension. But now Jungkook wouldn’t even spare a glance in your direction. He was avoiding you like the plague, so you did the same.

Also, even though it wasn’t as much as Monday, Jungkook kept choosing to be a dick to you and personally assigned you more work than reasonable every day. You had no time to confront him, but you didn’t want to anyway. For whatever reason, he wanted to be mean and avoid you instead of having some type of adult conversation. You couldn’t deal with people like that. It made it easy to want nothing more than to forget Jeon Jungkook even existed.

Maybe you really had been fooled. Jungkook had played you for the sap you were and manipulated you into sleeping with him. But as angry as you were, you couldn't find yourself able to believe that. Even though you were avoiding him, you still paid close attention anytime you were in the same room. The dark cloud continuously storming over him that you had noticed before raged with even more ferocity, still following him around no matter where he was or who he was with. The blank look behind his eyes grew worse with each day that passed. You were honestly confused how no one else had noticed.

Things hadn’t changed. If anything, they might have only gotten worse than before. You tried your best to restrain your emotions instead of immediately believing the first theory your mind conjured up. Maybe you just wanted to believe that he hadn’t used you, but you truly wanted to hope there had been more to Jungkook’s vulnerability than just a front he used to get to you.

It took a while, but eventually you settled on the most likely outcome and assumed that he was taking whatever feelings he had about the affair out on you for some reason. You had no idea why you had to suffer for a choice he made twice despite your warnings, but it just proved to you that at the end of the day, he really was a dick.

Whatever the reason, you really just didn’t want to deal with him anymore. What happened happened. It was in the past, you couldn’t take it back now, and he had to realize that. You didn’t mind pretending nothing happened because right now you just wanted to forget it all— forget Jeon Jungkook, forget last week, and honestly, fuck him.

•────•──────────•────•

Jungkook was a horrible person. The certainty of that truth became painfully obvious as the days passed. He knew how he was treating you wasn’t right, yet he was still awful to you anyway. He just couldn’t be any more pathetic.

Ironically, Jungkook wasn’t even mad at you. Far from it actually— he wanted you so much that it was the very thought of you that pissed him off far beyond a concerning degree. He made an executive decision that despite what he said to you in his office, he needed to listen to his conscience and stop the affair before things got worse. How was he ever going to make things right with Yuri if he was sleeping with you? It didn’t make any sense and he knew that. He knew he needed to end this here and now. After you left, Jungkook had sat in the darkness of the storage room crying over the thought that he was making things worse for him and Yuri and he was a terrible husband. But despite everything, he still couldn’t bring himself to regret doing it. He was just awful, horrible, and truly pathetic.

Jungkook was so eager to fix things with Yuri, but when has an affair ever been the answer or led to anything good? How was he ever going to repair their relationship if he was spending his time fucking you on the side? He would just look like the biggest hypocrite of the century.

Jungkook didn’t hate you per se, but he hated the failure that you represented. It was cruel, he was cruel, after everything you did for him, to repay you with an unreasonable amount of work in an already busy time. It just wasn’t fair to you. You probably hated him now. And he almost wanted that to be true. It was just another way to ensure he would stay away from you and get back to what should be his priority: the marriage he was fucking up.

Jungkook had hoped it would be easy to move on if he kept you away. The stars even aligned to allow him the opportunity to focus on his wife and put the affair in the past. Yuri had come home early one evening when Jungkook had happened to be home as well. They talked and even shared a meal by candlelight together that their chef had prepared. Sure, things were a little awkward and they only really spoke about work. Anytime Jungkook tried to bring up another topic, Yuri seemed disinterested. However, they did briefly discuss the upcoming annual holiday celebration that their families always held together and shared which of their favorite dishes they were looking forward to having, which was nice.

It was good, though. At the very least, she was tolerating his presence, and that was better than the disdain she usually had in her eyes whenever she looked at him.

Jungkook went to bed in better spirits than he had been over the past few days. He was able to easily fall asleep, though he would have preferred doing so with Yuri in his arms. He knew not to try it and ruin their good evening. He slept through the night and would have likely missed his alarm if Yuri hadn’t woken him up. His tired eyes strained to see her straddled over his lap. The sun had barely come up, but he could see the look in her eyes as she stared down at him. It made him hot in an instant.

“Touch me.” She had whispered right in his ear. It was a command, one that ignited a flame all too quickly. He felt wanted, maybe even needed, as he hastily flipped her onto her back while he began eating her out.

He was truly a horrible person. The whole time he pleasured Yuri, all he could think about was you in the storage room. The way you gripped his hair and all the pretty sounds you made with each swipe of his tongue. He missed you…

But Yuri was also so pretty, she always was, and when he finally brought her over the edge, his cock pleaded for her in his shorts. It had been so long, but he knew better than to push it. And he was right as always. The minute he got off her, she went to shower and he left him stuck alone in their room.

He missed the way you pulled him close after you finished. How you reached into his pants, touched him, and pleaded for more. He missed how you felt around him, how you held him in your arms while he cried. He really missed you. Jungkook had to fight every urge in his body to stop himself from reaching into his shorts for relief.

He wanted to be good for Yuri. He had to be. He kept telling himself that, but like the hypocrite he was, he finally went to the store to pick up condoms on his way to work. It wasn’t because he was preparing for when Yuri would let him go all the way, no, they were for you. He put them in one of his drawers in his desk, hidden underneath some papers, but not too out of reach in case of emergency. You probably didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, but he got the condoms anyway.

As much as Jungkook had tried to push you away, he never stopped wanting you. Each time you’d pass each other, which was rare because he made sure to avoid you, you grabbed his attention. He thought his feelings would pass, but as the days went by, they only got more intense. His body ached to have you all over again, and as much as he wanted to tough it out, wait for Yuri, and hopefully put the affair behind him, he was weak. So weak, that despite all of his intentions, he texted you to meet him at the storage room again with the emoji you had both discussed beforehand.

Jungkook [1:32pm]: 📦 3:15

He’d been shy about it. He spent days fighting between his urge to text you and to also resist the temptation and focus on Yuri. Like she always said though, he was weak, and ultimately caved despite his efforts.

He worried he would come off as needy and desperate, especially because of how he’d treated you, but it wasn’t far from the truth. What if he was texting too soon? What was too soon? You probably hated him, what was he thinking?!

He didn’t think you’d show up. Part of him didn’t want you to, hoping his efforts had paid off and you were done with him. But the other half of him was relieved when he heard your two knocks followed by another two knocks.

A wave of guilt hit him the minute he opened the door and saw you looked less than pleased to see him. He knew he deserved it. He deserved you never even looking in his direction again, but somehow here you were. You hadn’t deserved any of his anger. Your presence both infuriated him and calmed his spiked nerves. It wasn’t fair to you. He was cruel.

“What?” You barked. You were mad. You had every right to be.

Jungkook felt the tears start welling up in his eyes at his conflicted emotions. He felt bad, despite his resentment of you. He truly felt bad because he knew you didn’t deserve his anger. It was he who begged to have you again despite all his concerns. This situation you both found yourself in now was all his fault.

“Did you just bring me here to give me more work? I don’t have much time thanks to you.” You were angry, but he could still hear the hurt in your voice. He hurt you. He couldn’t stop hurting anyone who got near him…

Jungkook just stared at you with an almost dazed expression. He seemed out of it, even more so than normal. Maybe any other day you would have actually been concerned, but you didn’t want to see him, not now, or really ever again. You just came because apparently he was finally willing to speak to you again, so you thought it would be the perfect time to end whatever was happening between you two. Not that anything really even had begun in the first place. It should have ended after the first time. It should have never even started. This was a huge mistake that you knew would follow you for the rest of your lifetime.

He didn’t say anything back, just continued to stare at you. You couldn’t see him very well, but you were getting tired of his silence. Part of you thought agreeing to his request to meet would give you some concrete answers as to why he might be upset at you. What could you have possibly done to make him so mad when you hadn’t spoken since the last time you were in this room together? It seemed all he wanted to do was stare at you in confusion, and you really didn’t have time for that.

“Director Jeo— Jungkook, look, I don’t really want to be around you, so if you don’t have anything to say then—” You were ready to turn around, leave, and be done with this situation, done with him, but of course just as you were reaching for the door, you felt a hand on your wrist stopping you in your tracks.

“Don’t— Don’t you see how hard I’m trying to do that?!” His voice was shaky, but you could still hear the agitation. You finally turned around and at this angle you could see the shininess in his eyes.

Jungkook suddenly had your back against the wall, his arms by your side, effectively caging you in. However, he maintained enough distance between you two to stop short of being intimidating. If you wanted to, you could easily push past him.

“I’m trying to keep you as far away as possible, but you’re making it so—,” he buried his head in your shoulder, “—so fucking hard.” There was a bite to his words, an edge that told you he really was angry with you.

Fuck him.

“I want to be a good husband— I want to be good to my wife. I don’t want to betray her any more than I already have, but—” One of his hands came down to settle on your waist. So softly, he was always so gentle. You hated the way your body tingled at his touch.

“You’re making this so hard—” It felt wrong, but having you in front of him felt right all at the same time. He needed you, painfully so.

“Look at me.” Your words were harsh as you roughly grabbed his hair and pulled him off of your shoulder. Jungkook was certainly not prepared for your aggression, and how it embarrassingly went straight to his achy length. His cheeks burned as he stared down at you.

“I get you have shit going on, but what you’re not going to do is have the issues in your life interfere with my career. You’re making my life hell, and do you know how that makes me look in front of my team?” You finally released all the pent-up rage you’ve felt through the years working for him and you enjoyed the shocked look on his face as he processed your words. He needed to hear them.

“And you have the nerve to call me back in here after the bullshit you’ve put me through? You made me think things had changed, but you’re still just as petty as you’ve always been. You’re actually ridiculous.” Your anger was justified, so justified that Jungkook was tempted to just break down and cry. You were right and even worse, it was pathetic how he started to feel the strain of his pants growing tighter at the same time. Just a sad, sad human being.

Your hand then rose, and Jungkook watched as you sadistically toyed with the collar of his shirt before running your fingers down the line of his buttons, playing and pulling them lightly. Your finger finally made it to where he had his shirt tucked into his pants, then to his belt buckle, and then you suddenly cupped his growing bulge.

“Fuck!” He was way too loud, but he truly wasn’t expecting that. Tears immediately fell from his eyes, a chaotic storm of emotions swirled around in his head. He felt guilty, he was also frustrated, but more than anything, he just wanted you to touch him. As embarrassing and shameful as it was, he rocked into your hand, wanting more friction so badly. Your grip tightened, squeezing him so he felt your anger in the most pleasurable sense possible, along with the pain he more than deserved.

“I’m sorry!” he cried, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Don’t apologize. You know you meant what you did. If you want this to continue, you’re not going to pull that shit and try and act like nothing happened. You’re the one who begged for my help. If you’re done with this, just fucking say it. Got it?” you spat. Gone was the unconditional sweetness you’d shown him until this point despite how horribly he had treated you over the years. He had almost thought it wasn’t possible to make you mad, how it was the only way you tolerated him at all, but that clearly wasn’t the case. He fucked up and he took in every word you spat at him.

Jungkook hurriedly nodded.

“As for this…” You squeezed him once again, making Jungkook silently cry out. He wasn’t sure if it was out of pleasure or pain at this point. “If you want to get off so badly, you’re going to have to work for it.” You eventually said, moving your hand away, making Jungkook whine at the loss of contact.

You then propped your leg up against the wall and pulled him a little closer by his waist so he was gliding right across your thigh. Jungkook moaned at the sensation and pushed you further into the wall. He was embarrassed how easily you riled him up and his cheeks burned at the intimate position. What were you doing?

“Y/n…” he groaned, confused as to what this was, but you were quick to guide him. Your hands returned to his waist and you pulled him forward before pushing him back and bringing him closer again.

Oh.

It was an odd position, but one you quickly figured out he didn’t hate. You wished you could see his expression better, but the darkness didn’t hide everything. With your hands as a guide, you pushed and pulled him in a steady rhythm. His rugged breathing grew more labored and the whines he tried his best to suppress grew more pained and filled with need.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” you chuckled darkly.

“What are you doing— oh!” he hurried out, but was cut off by a groan as you started to speed up the pace a little.

“Mmm, you know exactly what I’m doing. You loved getting off on my thigh when we were together before. Isn’t this what you wanted after all? Isn’t that the only reason you called me in here?” If you could see his face, you would have seen how badly his cheeks were burning. His eyes were watery all over again at the accusation and the compromising position.

It was true; it was all true. He didn’t bring you here to apologize. That would be a lie. Even though he knew how wrong it was, he still wasn’t sorry. He needed to push you away, he just had to, because if not—

“Oh!” You sped up the pace just a little more and a moan embarrassingly slipped from his lips at the change. He was so weak.

“Say it. Why did you ask me to come here?” You had to repeat your question to let him know that it wasn’t rhetorical. You wanted an answer.

He stumbled like it was a hard question to answer, but he knew the answer exactly. It was just the shame of it all that made it hard to tell you.

“Say it or I’ll leave,” you almost cooed, teasing as you lifted your thigh up a little further, making him cry out. You knew what you were doing. He wanted you so badly, he didn’t want you to go.

“I bought condoms— I have one in my back pocket,” He hurried out even faster— embarrassed, ashamed, and mortified at how it looked. But there was no further elaboration needed. He only brought you here to use them. He was horrible, selfish… the list went on, really.

You chuckled lightly to yourself. “Thank you for being honest, but not today—”

“But—” Jungkook rushed out, and pushed into your thigh a little faster all on his own. He didn’t want you to leave, he really didn’t.

“But nothing. Like I said, if you want anything you’re going to have to get yourself off just like this. You wanted to be mean, so we’re not fucking today and I’m not letting you touch me. This is the most you’re getting, so take it or leave it.”

The familiar hostility was different with you than it was with Yuri. He’d found himself in this same situation more often than not, but with Yuri, it came with an overwhelming dread that he wasn’t good enough for her. But with you… Maybe he had issues— no, he definitely did— but all he could focus on was that you had given him a way out. You didn’t curse his very existence and tell him to stay as far away from him as possible. You didn’t scream or yell. You were calm and slightly sultry in the way you spoke. You were mad at him, just like Yuri had been, but he didn’t understand why you didn’t scream at him too. You had more than every reason to. Your punishment was cruel, but it was far kinder than what he deserved.

It didn’t make sense, but in the haze of it all, all he could focus on was his desire to have you. For once, he didn’t want to think. He was always in his head too much these days.

Jungkook didn’t realize you were expecting an answer, but you didn’t need one as he responded by hurrying his pace across your thigh, a light moan falling from his lips as he finally relaxed and let go.

“Please—” he groaned into your shoulder. “I’ll take anything.” It was desperate and sad, more than sad, but he didn’t have the energy anymore to even try and pretend he wasn’t at his wits end.

Jungkook didn’t see the way that you smiled at his words. Instead, all he felt was the way you gently pulled him off of your shoulder and lightly pressed a kiss on his damp cheek. The affection made him whine, wanting to meet your lips more than anything, to drown in you like he had been thinking of doing ever since you left the storage room last time. But you gave him no such relief as you pulled away and slowly lowered your thigh down.

Jungkook felt like he was seconds away from crying. He had agreed to play your game, so why were you pulling away? It didn’t make any sense, and as soon as you moved away he felt himself start to lose it at the thought of needing to take care of the problem you had caused all on his own.

However, that wasn’t your plan. Instead, in the darkness, you brought your hand up to gently tuck his hair behind his ears. You wanted to see him better. Even if you were furious with him, he was still such a pretty boy.

Jungkook wasn’t touched much, that much was obvious, so a gesture so soft went straight down to his pleading cock that was already straining in his pants. He pushed you further into the wall, his hands on your waist eager to feel and touch you. He wanted to fuck you just like this, against the wall, as you stared into each other’s eyes. The sounds he knew you would make, he wanted you—

“Mmmm, don’t get too eager,” you quickly reminded him.

“I’ll be good.” He had to be.

“You better be. Just because I’m letting you do this doesn’t mean I’m not still mad at you.” Your voice was soft and calm, almost infuriatingly so.

“Likewise.” His tone was pained, but gritty and challenging, as if you didn’t hold all the power in the situation and could easily walk away whenever you pleased. But he was being honest— he was mad, just maybe not directly at you. But seeing you lit a fire underneath him so hot that just being here with you could melt him in seconds. Nothing about your effect on him had changed or would change. Maybe he’d eventually grow stronger to resist you again like he had over the last few years, but right now he was spiraling and he knew that. Just for a second, he wanted relief.

You definitely weren’t expecting the attitude, but you had said you didn’t want him to lie. You tried your best to ignore the way your heart reacted knowing without a doubt now that he was mad at you. Did you feel hurt? Pain? Maybe something else entirely?

Whatever it was, you did your best not to show it and the darkness of the storage room offered further aid to conceal your wavering emotions. If he wanted to be like that, so could you.

Instead of responding with something sassy, you grabbed his hand and squinting your way through the darkness, you were able to guide him over to a table— the same table he snatched your soul on nearly a week ago. How things had changed so quickly, or rather, maybe nothing had changed at all. You could just see everything for what it was now.

You hopped up on the table and before Jungkook could question it, you pulled him close so he was nestled between your legs and the distance between you almost disappeared. You lightly ran your hands down his sides, basking in his soft sighs as your hands settled on his waist.

“And what could I have possibly done to you to make you so upset at me?” you chuckled darkly. You knew the answer, but you just wanted to hear him say it.

You didn’t hesitate to move him so he was straddled over your thigh. It was ironic really, his words said one thing but he was so quick to submit to you. Jungkook groaned, not even needing your help to get things started as he steadily moved himself across your thigh.

The darkness didn’t help whatsoever with seeing what you knew would be such a glorious sight, but with the light peeking in from underneath the door, you could still make out the faint outline of his sharp features and his disgruntled expression. Your admiration was interrupted when you suddenly felt his hand lightly cup your cheek and he brought you close to rest his forehead against yours.

“You exist.”

You could barely hear him. It was so delicate, hardly over a whisper, but the way his voice wavered made his pain obvious. Deep down, you knew that probably wasn’t a lie or an exaggeration to get under your skin. It was clear he meant what he said, but instead of storming out like you probably should have, a wave of conflicting emotions hit you all at once and kept you in your place.

It quickly made you remember the very reason you found yourself in this position in the first place. Jungkook wasn’t ok, and whatever he was battling with was eating him up inside and clearly winning. It was awful to watch and you couldn’t imagine what he must be going through. As hurtful as his words sounded, you found you couldn’t pull away from his soft touch.

You let him kiss you. You had no desire to stop him anyway. He did it so well. His kisses reminded you of a fire— at times a fireplace you would sit and enjoy with a good book, and other times it was ash, the aftermath of a warzone when all that was left was destruction. This time, however, the fire was a blazing fury of passion, still burning brightly, but the aftermath seemed inevitable. While it was clear he wasn’t nearly as mad at you as you were at him, you could feel the anger he kept subdued in the way he hurriedly pulled you close. If the situation had been different, you would have thought it was a little hot.

You finally snapped yourself out of your daze and pulled away.

“What did I say about touching?” you reminded him, and it was almost startling how quickly he dropped his hand.

“Sorry— I’ll be good—” he mumbled as his attention turned from your face down to where your bodies met. Jungkook’s face burned. As much as his body was pleading for more, he couldn’t deny he somewhat enjoyed this punishment. The position was a little embarrassing, but as your hands started pulling and pushing him, he couldn’t say he hated the way you were handling him. It reminded him of the times that Yuri would sit in his lap and pin him down. A punishment that only made the ache worse in every possible way. Just the thought of it made Jungkook chase a little faster into the feeling of it all and pull you a little closer.

“Oh— fuck.” Jungkook practically whined at the quickening pace. The friction was good and he really didn’t need much of it to get off. Yuri had given him less in the past and he had made it work. It didn’t take very long for him to become putty in your hands. He had already been on edge before you even got here, so now—

“Y/n, please— can I— fuck—” Jungkook was struggling. He needed to be good, but he also wanted more. This position made him think back to the last time you both were in this storage room, how good it felt to be inside you— how good it would feel to do it again. It was painful how much he wanted to.

Somehow, you were able to understand his pleas. “I told you this is all you’re getting.” You were stern, but not in the same way Yuri would have been. As angry as he was at the situation, his punishment was deserved— in fact, he deserved worse. The fact you were letting him do anything at all was a testament to how kind and forgiving you were. The realization just made him feel even worse. And he couldn’t stop begging for more…

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook was quiet after that, instead doing his best to silently get as far as he could. The whole situation made his insides feel like a flurry of butterflies, which had more than a small effect on his cock. Wound up from Yuri’s lack of affection, wound up from thinking of you despite how hard he tried not to, and wound up from the sweet, sweet pleasure from your thigh— it was enough to quickly turn him into a mess. You seemed to notice that he was starting to struggle.

You stopped helping him, instead letting your hands fall behind you as you watched him struggle in the dark. Maybe he’d grown tired, or maybe he was too caught up in thinking about what it felt like to be inside you, but he just needed more.

“Fuck, I don’t think I can… I’m close, but— Y/n, please—” he cried, his eyes watery. It wasn’t enough and he was honestly terrified you’d leave him at any moment. He knew Yuri would have by now. She always hated his begging and you probably did too. You probably hated him completely. He was pathetic.

Before he could embarrass himself any further, you took it upon yourself to put him out of his misery. You brought his face closer, pressing a languid kiss right on his lips. It was messy— Jungkook being so eager at the slightest touch, but it was nice. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were enjoying seeing him like this a little too much. So eager that he’d do anything, even ride your thigh, for the opportunity to get off. It was cute, and saying it was a little hot as well would be an understatement.

As your kisses trailed down his neck, you bathed in his soft sighs of pleasure and tiny moans and pleas for more.

“Oh— oh—” he whined. It felt too good.

You didn’t plan to go any further. You thought you could be content with just watching him get off and call it a day so he could learn not to pull that shit again, but your limitation was turning into a punishment for you as well. Here in his arms, it was so easy to remember what he did to you the last time you both found yourselves in the storage room. How nice his fingers had felt inside you, the skilled work of his tongue, and you had been daydreaming about the orgasm he gave you since the minute you parted ways.

Your body was hot, and unbeknownst to Jungkook, who was trying his very best to keep his hands down, you made quick work of pulling your skirt up and pulling your drenched panties to the side. He didn’t notice something had changed until you moaned into the kiss, sending a whole new wave of need over his entire body.

Jungkook instantly pulled away and from the soft glow of the light creeping in from underneath the door, he saw your hooded eyes before turning his gaze downward and seeing what was happening between your legs. It was dark, and even though Jungkook had pretty good eyesight, it was still difficult to see the way your free hand had slipped between your legs. It was easy to hear, however. You had to be soaked…

The thought alone nearly made him rut into you until he came, but instead, he quickly tried to compose himself and groaned lightly before looking back into your eyes. Your gaze was haunting in the way he knew it would follow him despite how much he wanted it to go away. The way the light reflected off your shining eyes, the slight smile on your face as you peered into his bewildered gaze— confused, yet eager for more.

“You like what you see?” you lightly chuckled, teasing. Oh, the ache.

“I—I could help you,” he stammered, begging. He would do anything. This was a curse disguised as a blessing.

“Mmm, you’d really want that? I thought you said my existence bothered you,” you laughed breathlessly. You were pleasing yourself well; he could see it from the look on your face.

Jungkook wanted to blurt out that he didn’t mean it like that, but he couldn’t. That would be a lie. Nothing you did had ever bothered him besides the very fact that you existed. You made his life complicated, and he knew that wasn’t necessarily your fault. It was more on him than you, but—

You laughed again when he didn’t respond.

“Just sit there and be a good boy. Watching you is nice. Don’t cum until I finish,” you sighed so sweetly. The nickname was unexpected, but well-received apparently with how he suddenly discovered the newfound energy to speed up his pace. He could see the vague outline of your hand speeding up between your legs, seemingly trying to match his pace, and he wished he hadn’t turned off the lights. You looked so pretty like this, even in the dark… imagine…

Jungkook was a mess, a ferocious battle occurring in his head the longer he watched. He wanted nothing more than to be good for you. He didn’t want to disappoint you, he had to be good. But there was also a side of him that wanted to push your hand aside, help you out, and serve you in the very way he knew he should. If Yuri could see him now, she would be more than disappointed, letting you take care of yourself when that was meant to be his job. Your wish to pleasure yourself was harder not to interfere with than he could have thought.

He had already struggled before when the friction was nice, but not enough. And sitting here now, watching you and hearing your soft sighs and moans, made the ache so painful he needed to slow himself down in order to obey you. He had to be good. He couldn’t let you down too.

He just couldn’t stop himself from helping out a little, though— an occasional kiss when your whines pleaded for a little more, or moving his lips downward to lightly suck across your delicate skin. Jungkook was worried you’d stop him since he wasn't entirely following your orders, but you never did. Maybe you were too out of it to notice, or too out of it to care, or maybe you even liked his little touches. It was a little silly to think about.

It wasn’t long, though, before he started to notice some of the signs he recognized from the last time that you both were here that you were close. Your whines grew more desperate and hurried and it made him chase into you faster. He wanted to finish you off and make you make a mess all over his fingers. He wanted to ruin you.

“Y/n…” It was just your name, but it was his last-ditch attempt at asking you to let him help you. What he was met with wasn’t the rejection that he was expecting, or even something drastic like you grabbing his hand to replace your own. No, instead you pulled him into a hurried kiss. You both were chasing the euphoria of pleasure too blindly to care about remaining civil. It was messy, and Jungkook found himself enjoying the chaos of it all: tongues exploring every nook they could, teeth occasionally clashing, wet, hot need and desperation in the way you moved your mouth against his.

It wasn’t any surprise that as your whines grew more needy, so did his own desperation. He had to stop himself from speeding up and finishing too quickly. Instead, he kept his pace as steady as he could while he watched your pleasure unfold right before his eyes, the way your hand sped up and the look on your face growing more pained by the minute—

“Oh—oh—Ju—“ You didn’t get to finish your sentence, and he wished you had, but the sight of you was even better than he could have imagined. With the way your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered closed as you worked yourself through your orgasm, Jungkook nearly came right along with you. It was honestly a miracle he didn’t. He hadn’t needed much, but it was far more than he required to have him hurtling toward the edge. It took everything in him to stop himself from giving in. He wanted to be good for you— he had to be.

As you steadily came down, Jungkook tried his best to slow himself down. He watched you, wide-eyed, waiting for your next order, thinking maybe you had changed your mind and wanted to leave.

“Okay… You can finish now,” you whispered, clearly out of breath. Jungkook’s body didn’t allow for a moment of hesitation as he immediately got back to work. Now with your permission, he felt crazed as he pulled you into another messy kiss, his body working faster than his mind so that he could hardly keep up. He pressed into you firmly, the unsteadiness of the table apparent with how it squeaked with each move he made. He was close— so, so close.

“Where? Where should I—” Jungkook hurried, realizing any moment might spell disaster. He was hoping for some type of direction from you, his mind so out of it that he couldn’t think up a reasonable solution other than to ruin his pants.

“Figure it out yourself,” you sighed, your eyes finally back on him, and Jungkook couldn’t help but whine realizing he was dealing with an even bigger emergency than he had thought only seconds ago.

For a second, he just continued as is, gliding across your thigh with no intention of stopping at any point. But finally, finally, he remembered the condom in his back pocket. Right!

Jungkook probably looked like a mess straining to reach in his back pocket while he also tried to keep his pace up and kiss you any chance he could. It was a struggle and many times he considered giving up, but finally he was able to pull it out and slam it on the table beside you.

Pants— now somehow he just needs to get his pants off…

Jungkook wanted to be good, but he was losing it. He hopped off your thigh and lifted you off the table to flip you around, your hands gripping the table firmly while your ass was pressed right where he was desperate to feel you. Jungkook had to practically tear himself away from your warmth to somehow get his belt loose, a horrendous struggle of need as he kept pressing into you, making it that much more difficult to take it off.

It was a vicious cycle of Jungkook making a little progress with his belt before the need to feel you became too great and he would consider giving up altogether, before thinking about the consequences and trying his hardest to get his belt loose and his zipper down.

Jungkook was nearing failure. He was only seconds away from giving in when finally his belt came undone and he could pull himself out, desperate to feel you. Jungkook should have pulled away so he could put the condom on, but instead he found himself pushing your skirt up and sliding between your thighs, rubbing himself along the soaked fabric of your panties, bringing himself closer to his breaking point. The condom was in his hand, ready to be opened so he could finally, finally have you, and then—

“Fuccccck!” Jungkook cried into your shoulder, tears slipping down his cheeks as his orgasm washed over him in a flush. It was humiliating and the embarrassment immediately made his cheeks burn as he steadily rocked into you, each wave washing away his problems before bringing new ones to the surface. It had happened so fast… and as nice as it felt, he couldn't help but feel ashamed that this was happening all over again.

It didn’t take long after the heat of his emotions died down to discover the mess he made on the table. The streak of light pouring in was enough to see where it glistened. Jungkook quickly turned on the lights, feeling relieved that by some miracle nothing had gotten on your clothes. It was also lucky that you happened to be in a supply closet so you had easy access to paper towels to clean things up.

Honestly, Jungkook was expecting you to leave, but you stayed and watched him try to straighten himself out while you simultaneously tried to fix yourself. You weren’t wearing bright lipstick today, so luckily it wasn’t smeared everywhere. And while things had gotten a little wild, your hair wasn’t in too bad of a condition and was relatively easy to smooth out.

Neither of you said a word, just working in silence until finally the time came for you both to leave. You gave him a slight smile before opening the door, which was more than he deserved, to be honest.

After you left, the guilt washed over him all over again. He had said he wouldn’t do this again, but—

As much as he was beating himself up about it, he knew deep down that he would eventually seek you out again.

•────•──────────•────•

“Hyung, I told you I can’t,” Jungkook groaned as he stared at his dinner, which was surely cold by now.

“All I heard was a no. You didn’t give me a legitimate reason why you couldn’t come with me,” Jimin pointed out, making Jungkook sigh for the billionth time.

Jimin had called him at an hour far too late for any type of decent conversation. Jungkook had gotten home late and had been staring despondently at Yuri’s empty chair and uneaten dinner for the last twenty minutes. His mood was down and his eyes had grown watery the longer he let his mind wander, when suddenly his phone rang.

Jimin had called to invite him to a concert that was happening in Itaewon that he was convinced Jungkook needed to go to.

“Hyung, I’m busy! Everyone’s busy right now!” It came off far more charged than he intended.

“That didn't stop you in the past! We used to have a billion things to do for work, but you’d always drag me out with you to concerts like this, saying the experience would be worth it,” Jimin reminisced.

“That was a very different time. I have a billion more responsibilities now. I don’t have time to just go out anymore,” Jungkook grumbled.

“But all you ever do is go to work and then go home. I think it would be good for you to get out of your routine and do something different for a change. I mean, when was the last time we hung out outside of the office?”

Jungkook wanted to have a rebuttal. It was on the tip of his tongue, but silence hung in the air as he tried to think about it. He couldn’t remember the last time…

“That’s because I’m busy. I’ve been trying to tell you this over and over, but you’re not listening,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, wondering why they were still having this conversation. A “no” should have been the end of it.

“I am listening. I just thought this would be something you’d want to go to. If you weren’t playing, you used any of your free time to try and be at a concert like this,” Jimin recounted.

Normally, an invitation to an indie concert was like cheese in a mouse trap for Jungkook. No matter the obstacle, Jungkook would try and go. There was even one time Jungkook had been sick in bed all week, but he had tickets to a concert where one of his favorite bands was playing. Jungkook hadn’t yet fully recovered, but he pushed through and still managed to attend. He always spoke fondly of the memory, even though his fever returned afterwards from pushing himself so hard, causing him to be bedridden for another week.

“I told you that that was a different time. I don’t understand why we need to keep going in circles around this,” Jungkook groaned once again. His patience was being tested. It was hard enough being at home alone right now and the last thing he needed was for Jimin to try and drag him out, adding more to his already full plate.

“And I told you it’s because you haven’t yet given me a legitimate reason why you can’t go,” Jimin retorted. And the cycle continued.

Jungkook had to stop himself from saying something he knew he shouldn’t, taking a couple of deep breaths before continuing.

“I don’t want to go, okay! Listen to me carefully, I. do. not. want. to. go. to. this. concert. with. you.” Jungkook made sure to articulate each word carefully. It seemed like his attempt to calm down wasn’t enough as it sounded far meaner than he wanted.

For the first time, the line was silent.

“Jungkook, I’m just trying to help you. I don’t think it’s healthy that all you ever do is go to work and go home. I thought this would be a fun thing for us to do together, a change in your routine you really might need.” Jungkook could hear the hurt in Jimin’s voice, but it didn’t quell his growing anger.

“I do not want to go! Leave me alone! We’ve been talking for forty minutes now about this stupid fucking concert after I’ve explicitly told you no several times!” Jungkook finally snapped.

“Jungkook—” Jimin tried to reply. But he had enough and hung up the phone.

Jungkook sighed and tried to return to his dinner. The call had no reason to go on for as long as it did. All Jimin had to do was take no for an answer and there would be no hard feelings. So why did he just have to keep pushing? To help? The last thing that would help him was forcing him to go somewhere he didn’t want to. Sure, in the past Jungkook would have appreciated the offer. It had normally been Jungkook dragging Jimin to concerts instead of the other way around. College-aged Jungkook would have never believed Jimin was the one who was trying to get him to go to a concert of all things.

Suddenly, in the darkness of the apartment, Jungkook found himself staring into the abyss, realizing how much he had changed. He had to change. No one was the same person they were in college. He had ten times more responsibilities than he had then. He had a wife, he was director of an entire department… he had no time for anything. College Jungkook had been a very different person and Jimin had to accept that.

But still, the longer he looked into the abyss, his eyes grew more watery. Had he really changed that much?

From his seat in the dining area he could see out into the living room where the guitar Jimin had gifted him still sat on the wall. Not once had he gotten the opportunity to play it and he didn’t think he ever would. He had more things to think about other than just himself now. He didn’t want to make Yuri unhappy. He didn’t want to make anyone unhappy. Yet why was that the only thing he seemed to do these days? Jimin was just trying to be nice. Jungkook used to love going to concerts, so of course Jimin would try to invite him. He didn’t want to be mean, so why had he been so mean to him?

His dinner became the last thing on his mind as tears quickly filled his eyes and spilled onto his cheeks. Pathetic, pathetic, you’re so pathetic.

A cry filled the silence of the apartment and Jungkook desperately wished Jimin were here with him.

•────•──────────•────•

Yuri had done it again.

Despite how much Jungkook insisted and pleaded, she went against his wishes no matter how much he asked her not to. For some reason, Yuri loved making his life difficult.

Had he truly been so horrible that a simple ask wasn’t even worth considering? That might have been it— he’d been nothing but horrible to her. Maybe she had stopped caring about anything he had to say now. He wouldn’t blame her…

But was it so wrong to ask her not to lead him on if she didn’t want to do anything further with him? Was it really that much of an unreasonable ask? Not once— but twice in one day Jungkook had found his face flushed, thinking he could finally make love to his wife properly, but then she’d abruptly pull away, degrade him for being so “needy,” then storm off, leaving Jungkook a helpless mess as he cried. Was it so bad that he just wanted a little bit of space for the time being?

Maybe it was. He was her husband so they should be close, but a little break couldn’t be too bad? Why did she always make it so hard when it didn’t need to be? One minute she was cold, wanting him as far away as possible, and the next she’d lure Jungkook to the point of relaxation, ready to love her, before ripping it away abruptly.

Jungkook had simply invited her to join him on the couch and cuddle. His intentions had been pure, but not even five minutes after she sat down, Yuri was on him not even five minutes after she sat down. He’d gone along with it, trying his best not to disappoint her, but he’d pushed too far when he pulled on the waistband of her shorts and that had been enough to set her off.

What made it worse was that he knew by now that if he hadn’t been spending his time with you, venting his frustration, that he surely would have ruined things even earlier by now. It was almost a miracle Yuri hadn’t suspected anything considering how jumpy he had been before he broke down in his office in front of you. Though it didn’t even help that much— if anything, his time with you only made him want to be with Yuri in the same way even more.

Maybe it was his guilt— or rather, the lack of guilt he felt about the affair that made him desperate to make up for it in some shape or form. He had been sneaking away with you to the storage room for some time now and not once had he ever regretted it. If anything, any time he made his way there he was excited, knowing he’d feel sweet bliss in the moment.

Once it was over though, he felt nothing. It was frightening. When he was with you it was the only time he could chase any type of feeling. He didn’t know what it was exactly, but it felt better than feeling nothing. Alone with you in the storage room, the world around him drowned out so easily. It was only for a few minutes, but it was enough.

The next day, Jungkook did the only thing he knew how to do these days and texted you. He never understood why you answered each and every time. He hoped that the first experience would have been enough to dissuade you, but at the same time he was thankful to you for being with him, even though he didn’t show it. Your relationship was complicated, sour, maybe even a little toxic considering the circumstances it was founded in.

“Why— why— why?!” Jungkook cried as quietly as he could as he held onto you. You both had gotten into another heated argument. Most of the time you would try not to talk to each other aside from Jungkook’s occasional check-ins that it was ok to proceed when he wanted more. This time though, with Yuri on his mind and emotions all over the place, Jungkook couldn’t help but spout a few words as soon as you walked in the room. It seemed he was taking all the bottled-up anger he shielded from Yuri and directing it onto you.

Basically, he’d questioned why you kept doing this to him. They were the words he wanted to say to Yuri, but he meant them all the same to you too. He was trying to be a decent husband and you were pulling him down further into the hole of irredeemability. Yuri already hated him. He wanted to make it work, he had to make it work. So many people were counting on him to be a good husband. How was he ever going to win her heart if you existed? Why, why were you doing this to him?!

As expected, you didn’t take his ranting very well. Jungkook was basically questioning the very nature of your existence and for some reason he thought that your presence was simply enough to force him into doing the wrong thing. It was outrageous, he knew that, and he hated what he said the minute the words left his mouth, but instead of apologizing and admitting he wasn’t having a good day, he doubled down. It was awful. He wanted you to leave. He wanted you to stay even more despite his harsh words. For some reason, you chose the latter. He didn’t understand why, but it didn’t take much time until he had you pinned against one of the shelves.

A flurry of anger, lust, and a need that spread faster than a wildfire. You both had hardly engaged in any foreplay before he hurriedly stuffed his cock inside of you. Immediately, he burst into tears— his building emotions overflowing and spilling from his eyes. He didn’t know whether they were angry tears or sad tears. He didn’t know why he cried all the time these days. It was so bad.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” Jungkook sobbed into your shoulder, thrusting harder as he grew close.

“Fu—fuck you,” you spat back at him.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Am I not good enough?” he questioned sadly. He didn’t need you to answer, he already knew what you would say. If Jungkook was good enough, he wouldn’t be here right now. He would be in his wife’s arms instead. He would be happy, she would be happy if he was good enough.

“Fuck you, Jungkook, fuck y—“ you cursed at him as your profanity morphed into a whine. His punishing pace never faltered.

“Shut up— please.” Not now, not when all he could picture was his wife’s disappointed face.

Jungkook switched up his pace to long, languid strokes. The tears kept spilling from his eyes. He always got extra sappy when he was close; Yuri pointed it out all the time.

“Why does she hate me so much? Why am I never good enough for her? Why—” He was upset, yet he knew he had no right to be. He was the one making her miserable. Things would be so much easier if he was just a little better.

You didn’t say anything back and he was glad you didn’t. Any judgment would have been enough to send him off the edge. Instead, you just listened silently to his saddened cries as he fucked all of his frustration into you.

Your feelings for Jungkook were complicated, but the sex was good. Very good, actually. The passion was so explosive whenever you were in a room together alone. Sometimes that passion manifested as anger, other times it was lust, and sometimes it was both, like in this case.

It was clear Jungkook was struggling, and as much as your instincts were telling you to stay far away from him, you feared what would happen if you didn’t keep coming back. Each time the sex got better despite Jungkook seeming visibly worse. He was literally having a breakdown right now and it wasn’t even the first time it had happened.

You tried your best to keep your emotions under control, not wanting to set him off in any way, but he was harsh towards you, and even harsher towards himself.

“Just want her to— why can’t— fuck— why doesn’t she want me?!”

You didn’t want to pry, but his pleas already had a picture of his wife forming in your mind.

“I— I told you— told you to please go easy on me until you’re ready, but you— you don’t want to listen to me. You never do.” His voice was hoarse and pained. These were deep, dark thoughts that he didn’t even know he had until they left his mouth. He felt sick when they did.

All you could see were the faint labels on the boxes in front of you, but for a moment you were tempted to turn around and look at him. He sounded so sad.

“Yuri— please—” he cried, holding you a little tighter.

You could only imagine he was thinking about his wife at that moment. It was a strange experience hearing another woman’s name come out of his mouth while he was inside of you. Initially, you just wanted to turn around and slap him and tell him that you were right here, but you had to remind yourself that it was his wife after all— of course that’s who he was thinking about.

“Please— please— please— oh-pl—” He was close. Really, really close.

Jungkook’s sobs morphed into pained whines the closer he grew to the end. His thrusts grew sloppier with each moan and you helped out a little by tightening yourself around him, something you had learned was a catalyst to quickly finishing him off. The first time, you were a little too eager when he put it inside of you and he probably didn't even last a minute longer after that. And just like back then, the moment you squeezed around him he was practically putty in your hands.

After a couple of more thrusts, he stilled inside you completely before pumping the condom full of his cum. He had nearly forgotten to put it on earlier— the heat of the moment making him act a little too hastily. His grip on your waist tightened, and for a moment it sounded like he had stopped crying. For a second, you wanted to believe that you had given him a little relief from whatever hell he seemed to be going through.

Jungkook didn’t move for a while. Instead, he stayed close, thrusting lightly as he sobbed into your shoulder, mumbling things you couldn’t even make out anymore. You didn’t stop him, nor did you say anything. You just let him cry.

Things seemed to be particularly bad today. You had tried your best to piece it all together from the random words he slipped out. You knew it had to do with Yuri and something that she had done to him, but he never got more specific than that. Seeing how poorly he was reacting, you could only imagine how terrible it was.

He was shaking. You could feel the trembling of the hand he had on your waist, and even though he’d grown quiet, you could feel your blouse dampening with each second that passed.

You felt the urge to ask him if he was ok again, even though you already knew the answer. You were about to ask, when suddenly Jungkook pulled away. You hadn’t been prepared for the coolness of the room without his warmth.

You vaguely saw his silhouette move around in the darkness. You figured he was throwing away the condom, but then you watched him go over to the same table he’d often taken you on to grab the box of tissues you had pulled out of storage. You heard him blow his nose before you faintly saw him wipe his eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

“I’m sorry— sorry— I— ummm…” Jungkook took a deep breath, his voice wavering a little too much, nearly cracking in the process. “You can hop up on the table.”

You tried not to look too shocked despite the fact that he probably couldn’t see you anyway. You honestly hadn’t expected him to still be in the mood for that today, seeing how upset he was. But no matter how heated the moments could get between you two, Jungkook was always nice enough to help you out afterward in more desperate times like this when you didn’t finish along with him.

“You sure? You don’t really seem like you’re doing ok,” you asked hesitantly, walking over to him.

“Yeah, I want to be useful for something.” He almost sounded like he was about to burst into tears again.

“We don’t have to if you don’t—”

“I do— I want to… please—” He didn’t even let you finish before he grabbed your hand and pulled you close. You had the consuming urge to pull him into a hug or kiss his cheeks to make him feel better, or at least get a smile out of him. You resisted though, and jumped up on the table before letting your heels fall to the floor. You had nearly stabbed him in the back one time, so now you always made it a point to take them off whenever you were in this position.

You watched with curious eyes as he dropped to his knees right in front of you. You could still see the shininess in his eyes as he looked up at you. What could he have possibly done to make Yuri so upset? You had every reason to be upset at him, yet you still couldn’t find it in you to hold onto any ill feelings or hatred. Things were just complicated at the moment.

Jungkook proceeded to be sweet to you like he always was, leaving soft gentle kisses across your skin before you had to grip onto his hair as he sent you to another dimension once again.

•────•──────────•────•

“Y/n, what’s been going on between you and Director Jeon?” Solmi asked you out of the blue one day, causing you to nearly choke on your rice.

You had only just arrived at the table to join her and Taehyung for a late lunch. They were both nearly finished already, but lucky for you, you had brought the leftovers you wanted to finish off for lunch today. By the time you made it to the cafeteria, the lunch line had already closed.

You told them you had been with Jungkook, which wasn’t technically a lie. They thought he had held you up because of a meeting you had mentioned in which Jungkook had emailed you wanting to meet up to discuss budget planning, specifically to get your input about salaries for the department. That had not been a lie either.

Jungkook and you had met earlier for actual work purposes to go over some important information. Director Son was out of the office for a big meeting over at another company— so you’d stepped in to fill his place. It was just that although you both had finished shortly before lunch, a lot of tension had started to build between you over the course of your meeting. No arguments were had, but anytime you’d get deep into the numbers, he would stare at you with this strange look in his eyes.You had no idea why, as you were just discussing business, but you were so used to that look by now that you knew what it meant he wanted.

You were just about to leave when you felt his hand close around your wrist. You turned and looked behind you and caught his sparkling eyes peering into yours as he so quietly and shyly asked if he could have just a little more of your time.

That’s how you both ended up sneaking away to the storage room as the time ticked away into your lunch break. You had both tried to be quick— Jungkook insisting he would work fast, but that didn’t deter him from giving you two orgasms with his tongue before sending you into a third with his cock. You were still buzzing, your knees a little weak, as you hurried downstairs to meet your friends who were waiting for you.

You tried to keep calm at her question. “Wha-What do you mean?” You nearly choked as you tried to stuff kimchi in your mouth so you didn’t have to answer.

“We used to be down here at least once a week hearing you rant about how awful Jeon Jungkook was,” she said, imitating your voice during the last part. “But then it stopped and you guys seem closer now. Do you not hate him anymore?” she asked bluntly. Solmi had always been that way.

“Uhhh—” you stumbled, at a loss for words. “We’re not that close, really. My new position just requires us to work together more often. Do I still hate him? It’s umm— it’s complicated.” Technically another honest answer— that wasn’t a simple question anymore.

“Complicated?” Taehyung repeated, his cheeks full of rice.

“Yeah. It was easier to hate him when he was just a mysterious figure that I hardly ever saw in person, but now… since we’ve started working a little more closely together and we’ve had some time one-on-one… I don’t know how to describe it other than it’s complicated. He’s a weird dude, and I will never forgive him for all the work he’s assigned me over the years, but… he’s also a busy guy and seems like he has a lot on his plate. He’s not so bad when you get to know him a little more personally. Again, it’s just complicated,” you sighed as you played with your food. Again, you hadn’t lied. Despite everything, you just couldn’t really hate the guy anymore, but that didn’t stop you from thinking he could be a major dick sometimes.

“Really?” Solmi inquired after your long winded answer.

You nodded steadily.

“Does this mean you’re not president of the Jungkook hate club anymore?” she followed up quickly, and Taehyung joined her in her laughter. You found it a little funny too.

“I think it’s time I retire. I’m sure there’s someone who hates him more than me now,” you smiled, but for a second, Jungkook’s words echoed in your head as you thought about his wife.

“Wahhh, I never thought I’d see the day you retire from something,” Taehyung said seriously, looking over at Solmi.

You playfully rolled your eyes, knowing full well what he was referring to. On one of the dates you went on, you told him you never thought you’d ever retire, your ambition making it too difficult for you to settle down.

“If you don’t hate him anymore, then I won’t feel bad bringing up the fact I think his eyes are really pretty,” Solmi said so quickly, you nearly didn’t catch it.

You gasped at her words before you rolled your eyes again. You couldn’t even say anything back. You thought they were pretty too. Deep down, you knew you always had for some reason.

•────•──────────•────•

You needed a car. That had become apparent long before you started working at Golden Tech, but it was only recently that it had started to become detrimental to your career.

Your new position had you moving around the city a lot more often than your last one did. It wasn’t too uncommon for you to need to join Director Son in meetings with other companies, or venture out on your own to get across town. The amount of times you’ve had to deal with the challenges of relying on public transportation to get to meetings was insane.

You finally decided enough was enough the first time you accompanied Director Son to a meeting and he offered to let you ride in the car with him. In comparison to the bus or subway, it was practically night and day, finally confirming how much easier it would be to just suck it up and get your own car. There was no stress of needing to run to the bus stop so you could make it back to work on time. Aside from the slight traffic you ran into, it was much smoother sailing compared to the times you’d gone on your own.

Funnily enough, aside from the fact that cars and gas were expensive, you had only gotten your license just last year. Taehyung had actually been the one to teach you after you confessed to him late one late night about feeling a little insecure that you were in your mid-20s and you didn’t know how to drive. Your ambitious nature had gotten you a job at Golden Tech and the Associate Director position all within the span of just two years, but it was also what prevented you from doing certain things, like getting your license. You were always too busy with school to take the time to learn. Plus, you had moved away from home for college and going back home to Busan for driving lessons from your family during your busy schedule was impossible— or well, it just wasn’t going to happen.

Taehyung had been kind enough to meet up on your free weekends to teach you. Once you finally passed your test, you met up with Tae to celebrate, and that’s when your friendship got complicated. He kissed you, you kissed him back, he asked you out, and suddenly you were in a “secret” relationship and going on dates as often as you could.

But that had been over a year ago now. You had your license, but never got a car because you never found the time to start that process. Plus, you were making do with public transportation so you found no need for the extra expense. But ever since Director Son drove you to that meeting, you’d been considering it. Your income was sufficient now and you finally felt like you were ready to become a car owner. You hoped it would be a nice Christmas or New Year's gift to yourself for the great year you had had. Right now, though, you were just in the research stage and still dealing with the struggles of public transportation.

This was all to say that when Jungkook told you about a meeting he needed you and Director Son to attend with him, you ran into an issue. You somehow let it slip that it would be a little difficult to make it there in time since rush hour would be occurring at the time. The subway wasn’t a good option since it could get so crowded, making it impossible to get out of the station, and the closest bus stop to the company was ten minutes away, which with traffic meant you’d end up running minutes late. You’d already tried that route before and had had to call the company on a crowded subway to tell them that you were going to be late.

And that was how Jeon Jungkook offered to give you a ride.

“I’ll drive you. We’re going to the same place anyway. It'll be fine.” His words were nice, yet he had a bit of an attitude. You weren’t fighting, but this was just how things always were between you two.

It was easy to guess why you were hesitant. Being alone in a car with Jeon Jungkook wasn’t something you really wanted to do. So much so, that you actually told him you’d ask Taehyung to give you a ride first before agreeing to his proposition. You had thought you were doing him a favor by saving him from the awkwardness of the ride, but for some reason his attitude changed completely as soon as you mentioned that.

You honestly had no idea what had happened, but suddenly he was insisting it would be no trouble. He emphasized that you were going to the same place and that it would be too much unnecessary work for Taehyung since he wasn’t going to the meeting. Somehow, Jungkook convinced you to feel guilty about asking Taehyung, and that was exactly why you ended up walking down to the garage with him on the day of the meeting.

You were both silent as you walked. It had been that way since you left his office earlier. It felt like that day all over again. And just like that day, you were greeted with Jungkook’s fancy ass Mercedes.

Now that you had been doing a little research into cars, as you got in, you were in for another reality check on how rich he was. Not only did he own a Mercedes, but you knew some of the features you saw were crazy expensive to add on— you know, you had checked after liking Jungkook’s car so much.

You couldn’t deny how sexy the car looked with its sleek black interior and the pretty lights that added a subtle ambiance, a little color to cut through all the blackness. It was hot, and you had to stop yourself from fawning as you looked around at the lavishness of it all.

Not in front of him.

But once again, just like last time, your eyes couldn’t help but to drift over to him as Jungkook started up the vehicle. He had one hand on the wheel as he pulled out, his pretty hair sitting right at his shoulders, the waves making him look ethereal. It was ridiculous how someone this good looking could even exist.

As enthralled as you were by his beauty, the serious expression he wore concerned you and made you worried he was annoyed with having you there. It didn't make any sense since he was the one who insisted on you driving with him. You had tried to save yourselves the trouble by at least wanting to ask Taehyung if he was free, but noooo, he wanted to make things complicated.

Instead of dwelling on it too much, you just turned your attention out the window to admire the sights and to stop thinking about Jungkook.

You had thought it would be a relatively short drive, even though the company you both were headed to was on the opposite side of the city. Director Son had actually gotten there earlier in the day, having a meeting on his own before the one you and Jungkook would join started. If he hadn’t had to arrive early, you probably would have asked him for a ride instead.

You really hadn’t expected the ride to take that long, but once again, you were reminded that rush hour didn’t just apply to public transportation. The traffic was almost immediate as you pulled out of the garage. Luckily for you, Jungkook had insisted on leaving early, probably having better foresight and expecting the traffic, but even you could tell that traffic was particularly bad.

You wondered if it was normal, but as you looked over at Jungkook, you saw his face grow more disgruntled each minute you only moved up a little bit. Of course it was just your luck that for some reason, traffic was especially bad today.

To make the ride even more uncomfortable, the mood in the car was tense. Jungkook seemed to have some type of problem. He hadn’t said anything to you yet, but you were terrified that at any moment he would be back to playing the blame game. Maybe he wanted to bring you along just to torment you? Maybe you should have just lied and said Taehyung had already agreed to drive you? Anything to take back getting in this fucking car.

In a desperate attempt to keep the car ride civil, you asked Jungkook if you could turn on the radio. You were a little surprised he agreed and even told you where to go on the touch screen. As the poppy chorus of the latest idol songs filled the car, it made things a little less awkward. You were focused on trying to stop yourself from singing along and keeping Jungkook out of sight, out of mind. As long as you kept your attention focused out the window, all would be fine. Before you knew it, you’d be at the company and you’d be free from this claustrophobic hell.

But then it was your fault that you made the horrible mistake of turning your head too much, letting you see Jungkook’s displeased expression out of the corner of your eye, his eyes burning a hole into the car in front of you.

Was it the traffic that had him so pissed? You knew being the driver would make the situation even more annoying. Hopefully it wasn’t you, or else you really would have to jump out of the car to avoid his bitching when you had a meeting to worry about.

You didn’t know what came over you. Maybe you were willing to do anything to save the car ride from turning into a fight, so you let your body act first before your mind could catch up to stop you. All of a sudden, you rested your hand on his thigh. You felt your cheeks warm up as you watched Jungkook look down at it, and then over at you.

You wondered if he was going to say something. He looked like he was about to, but ultimately he never did. Instead, he turned his attention to fixate back on the car in front of you.

You honestly had no idea where you were going with this. You had initially acted without thinking, but as time passed, you subtly started to run your hand up and down his thigh to try and calm him down. It wasn’t anything too crazy, but it was enough to make Jungkook look down and then over at you again.

“I can stop if you want me to.” You finally looked over to meet his eyes. You both knew where it would go if you continued, so you thought it best to ask him if he was comfortable. You didn’t know how you had gotten yourself here, you kept telling yourself, ignoring the way you had been daydreaming about how good he looked driving.

Jungkook looked at you for a moment and you were keen to notice the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened each time your hand moved a little higher up his thigh, and the subtle way he bit his lip the longer he stared. You hated to admit it was a little hot.

“You’re fine— you can keep going,” he nervously coughed as he turned back to the road.

He was embarrassed, still not quite used to how starkly different things were with you than with Yuri. She would never do something like this for him, let alone let him rest his hand on her thigh. He had tried once, one of the few times she had ridden in his car. He got the idea after watching a movie where the guy did it with his girlfriend. Jungkook’s cheeks flushed and he got butterflies anytime there’d be a scene of them in the car, causing him to bury himself in the blanket he’d wrapped himself with. He figured he would try it out with Yuri one day, but it didn’t go well… nothing he ever did went well.

He was still getting used to how often you two were meeting up in the storage room. He’d only bought a small box of condoms, figuring just like with Yuri, anything more would be a waste. But weirdly enough, he was already needing to plan his next trip to the store when he realized you were nearing the end of the box. Jungkook would have been shocked if you hadn’t let him have you with less than a week in between, but you never once turned down his shameless begging, even after only a day. He could hardly keep up and he still felt guilty anytime he’d ask you.

When he invited you to drive with him, he definitely wasn’t prepared for you to flip things around. His intentions hadn’t been impure whatsoever, he truly thought it made more sense then you needing to run off with Taehyung, right? Why should you ask Taehyung when you both were going to the same place and he had room in his car? It didn’t make any sense for you to go with Taehyung— unless, well, unless you had wanted a chance to be alone with him because you—

His mind had been racing with that thought when suddenly, he felt your hand on his thigh. It instantly took him out of his spiral, and when you started moving— Jungkook had to press his index finger between his lips to stop himself from moaning out. You started off with subtle movements, but when you noticed the way he shifted slightly to meet your hand anytime you moved up his thigh, you stopped. Your hand stayed right where his pants continued to grow tighter.

Jungkook was far too weak and sensitive to stay calm. The frustrations from this ridiculous traffic, the stress of making it to the meeting on time, and your hand on his thigh made the frustration so intense he needed to seek you out for refuge like he always seemed to do these days.

He was hard before you even made it to the next stoplight.

His face was warm, embarrassed because he wasn’t sure if this is what you had intended when you started, but surely you had realized the effect of your hand by now.

He was so pathetic. He wasn’t even entirely sure whether or not he wanted to start crying or pleading for more.

More, he wanted more. As you both sat in traffic, his mind was wandering off to imaging so many things he wanted to do. He wanted to ask for you to touch him more. He could undo his belt and zipper, and oh— he also wanted to feel you. He wanted to feel your mouth again— it had been a while since that day in his office. The very thought was enough to get him flushed in the face as it grew more and more difficult to focus.

Every time his eyes glanced down and he’d see what you were doing, it just got worse. Part of him was absolutely terrified that someone could see what was happening if they happened to look through the window, but the other half didn’t care and wanted you to finish what you had started.

It got especially bad when you finally seemed to notice the problem you had made, your fingers tracing over the very obvious outline in his slacks. He felt tears well up in his eyes. You hadn’t been doing enough to make him cum, but he almost wished you had been because the teasing was unbearable. He was tempted to say fuck it, and plead for you to touch him the proper way so he could feel your soft hands all over his skin, and maybe—

Jungkook had to quickly slam the brakes, realizing he had spaced out so much that he didn’t realize the car in front of him had stopped already. You both lurched forward, only slightly, but enough for his embarrassment to get even worse.

“So-sorry!” he quickly apologized, his face somehow growing even hotter.

“It’s fine. Did you need me to stop?” you asked, a bit of concern in your voice.

Jungkook thought about it, and as much as he knew you should, he couldn’t find it in himself to actually wish you would. He had no shame. Jungkook shook his head no, not having enough confidence to tell you honestly that he loved the feeling of your hand and that the thought of stopping now made him want to scream.

He heard you chuckle slightly. “Just make sure to keep your eyes on the road, okay?”

Right. If he was already this much of a mess from you touching him over his clothes, going further might cause you to actually crash. He kept reminding himself that, but the longer you both sat in traffic, the harder it grew not to beg you to finish him off. You wound him up so easily—

Luckily for him, right as things got to the point where he was seriously about to beg you to touch him more, you finally came to the area that had apparently caused the traffic jam. You were right— it was an accident. Nothing too disastrous, it just seemed like a pretty bad fender bender. Police officers had been steadily directing traffic while officials were trying to clear the scene. The minute after you made it past them, it was smooth sailing.

It didn’t take too long afterward for you both to finally pull up to the company— apparently, they were one of the suppliers for Golden Tech. You, Jungkook, and Director Son had come to discuss terms for their services for next year.

Jungkook pulled up to the gate that led into the garage where a security guard stopped you. You quickly removed your hand from Jungkook’s thigh, and for a second, he reached for you to put it back again.

You pointed at the security guard. Right.

Jungkook rolled down the window.

“Oh! I thought it was you! Good afternoon, Director Jeon!” the security guard smiled and bowed.

“Hi!” Jungkook tried to smile back, but all he was thinking about was your hand.

“Dae-Jung isn’t driving you today? I almost didn’t recognize you,” he laughed, looking past Jungkook and peering at you in the passenger seat.

“No— I’m working late today, so I’m driving myself.” It was true. He was staying late today to meet all the deadlines he needed to. But he also knew you would be joining him today. Maybe there had been some part of him that knew things would get heated, maybe some part that had hoped they would.

“I see. We were told to expect you for a meeting. Would you like for us to send someone down to park your car?” The security guard was very animated, in a good way. His energy was infectious and he seemed really sweet. If things were different, Jungkook might have taken him up on his offer considering how long you both were stuck in traffic. He could only imagine the meeting was probably about to start.

“There’s no need. I can do it myself. Thank you for the offer though.” Jungkook tried to maintain a smile to appear not too rude, but he needed you.

“Alright, just find someplace to park. A team member will be at the entrance to escort you to the meeting room.” And with that, the security guard went inside the little building to lift the arm up and allow you to drive through.

You were honestly a little confused why Jungkook didn’t take him up on the offer considering the time. Maybe he hadn’t noticed? Luckily, when you made it in, there just so happened to be a spot available close to the door right at the entrance.

Once he parked, you were ready to jump out and start running when you suddenly felt a hand on yours. You turned to see Jungkook’s shiny eyes looking at you. Right, you almost forgot…

“We still have fifteen minutes left— I would just need like, two minutes— but, uh, you don’t have to— we, um—” Jungkook was beyond flustered, having to ask. You really should run so you could meet Director Son before the meeting started, but there was no way he’d be able to go up there and face all those people feeling like this.

You sighed. This was technically your fault. “You don’t think there would be any time to sneak off once we make it inside?” you asked, wondering if maybe you and Jungkook could find a bathroom before the meeting started… maybe? Then again, that didn't sound very smart.

Jungkook shook his head.

Instead of contemplating it anymore, you just decided to roll with it. “Alright, get your belt off, let’s make this quick,” you sighed as you shifted to get in a better position.

Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice as you watched him frantically tug off his belt and undo his zipper before looking back up at you with pleading eyes. Huh? He could have at least taken himself out first. But you didn’t say anything, not really having time to fight him, so you reached over the console and did the job yourself.

At first, you were just going through the motions, trying your best to be quick about this. You weren’t even thinking about it too much until you felt his precum leak onto your palm. Oh?

“That really worked you up, huh?” You were honestly a little baffled, truly amazed at how sensitive he was. You knew you had been teasing him, but you didn’t expect him to get this turned on by just your hand on his thigh.

“Please…” he moaned, his voice wavering slightly, making you look up and see how flushed he was. This was serious, even more than you originally had thought.

You watched him carefully as you steadily began pumping his length, occasionally running your finger across the tip. The way his eyebrows furrowed when you seemed to hit a sensitive spot, the way he bit his lip, and the cute way he didn’t know what to do with his hands so he was just clutching anything within range… These little details had been lost in the darkness of the storage room before.

You began slowly and would have kept things going like that for a bit longer, but you both had places to be and not much time left. You quickly took your hand back, spit in it to give you some extra glide, and got back to work, hoping it would make things happen quicker.

“Oh— oh! Oh…” Jungkook groaned, letting his head fall back. You could tell he was trying to hold back, but he was a little louder than what he usually was in the storage room. You hated to admit it, but his moans were really just as pretty as he was. You tried your best to stay focused on the task at hand and ignore the way your panties were dampening by the second. You had a meeting to go to…

You distracted yourself by keeping your eyes on the time and making sure your technique was supreme so it would go as fast as possible— twisting your wrist with each upward stroke, making sure to prioritize the tip, the little things. And just like Jungkook promised, it was only a few seconds after the clock ticked for a second time that things got serious.

“Close!” he hurried out.

Alright— you were making ok time. Maybe thirty more—

“Wait— ughh, wait! Where do I…?” Jungkook hurried out quickly. It just dawned on you again exactly where you were.

“Umm, do you have condoms with you?” you questioned, but Jungkook quickly shook his head. He had tears in his eyes. He honestly thought this was going to be it, that you were just going to stop and tell him to suck it up and get over it. That’s what Yuri would have done.

“Ok, we only have one option then. Hurry up and move your seat back a little.” Jungkook was confused, but followed your words anyway since there was no time to question it. As soon as he moved back, you maneuvered yourself to lean over the console and came face-to-face with his length, grasping it between your fingers.

“What are you— oh, oh fuck…” Jungkook whined as you took him into your mouth. You tried to be gentle so you wouldn’t ruin your makeup, but you planned to make this quick. Luckily for you, with Jungkook being as sensitive and as close to the edge as he was, that wouldn’t be a very difficult task to accomplish.

You were only able to get a couple strokes in before his hand quickly flew up to gently hold your head down— he was always so gentle— and you felt him cum down your throat. His noises turned into a mess of expletives, whines, and pretty, pretty moans as you steadily helped him through it. He came fast, hard, and was shaking slightly by the time you pulled off of him.

That was…

He probably looked like a mess. His hands had been running through his hair again. He had tried so hard to make it look nice, you’d even helped him out a little earlier when he complained that he didn’t know what to do with it after he’d messed with it all morning. You had been so soft in the way you concentrated on moving all his curls in the right place. Jungkook’s face had burned and his heart nearly raced out of his chest.

“You ok?” you eventually asked when you noticed he seemed kind of dazed.

That finally brought him back, realizing the time was still ticking. “Yeah s-sorry!” Jungkook stumbled, grabbing the things he needed.

“Don’t apologize… 9 minutes…” You looked over at the clock, but then hurriedly brought out your phone to look in the camera and fix whatever had gotten out of place from your activities. Luckily, it wasn’t too bad. Just a quick reapplication of your lipstick and fixing your hair up a bit and you’d pretty much be good.

“Thank you by the way…” Jungkook said so softly. His face was a little red, you noticed. It was one of the few moments you had these days when the tension dissipated and you were reminded of the shy boy who started blushing if you looked at him for too long.

“It was my fault—” You stared intently at your camera as you reapplied your lipstick. “It wasn’t fair to just leave you hanging like that,” you said plainly.

As soon as you were both done, you hurriedly got out, but then you quickly stopped him from heading to the door. “Let me just—”

Jungkook watched with wide eyes and a warm face as you worked to fix his hair once again. It wasn’t much, you really didn’t have the time to be standing here, yet you still…

“Alright, that’s all I can do— it looked so good before we left. But, huh, somehow you still look great— the messy look suits you,” you say nonchalantly as you continue speed walking. Jungkook had to hurry to catch up to you, dazed from the compliment, your intoxicating sweet scent, and the look in your eyes.

Oh…

Part of him was tempted to say something, but he was too flustered for anything reasonable to come out.

“By the way, Jungkook, do you have any car recommendations?” you asked randomly as you both started to pick up the pace. You didn’t even need to turn behind you to feel Jungkook’s confused gaze.

“You seem like you have a good taste in cars and I was looking for— you know what, nevermind, we only have five minutes. We’ll finish this conversation later, just run!” You grab onto his hand and despite being in heels, you begin to book it. If only you could see the flushed look on Jungkook’s face as he trailed behind you.

This wasn’t a situation you were unfamiliar with. There had been multiple meetings where you’d had to runfrom the subway station or bus stop to make it in somewhat reasonable time. How ironic was it? You thought going by car would be much quicker, but somehow you found yourself in the same situation all over again. Seriously, just your luck.

“I’ll take care of you when we get back!” Jungkook called out from behind you. You didn’t turn around to reveal the smile on your face to him. Of course, he always needed to keep things even. Instead of responding, you just ran a little faster.

You were going to be late at this point!

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