#knots au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

colormepurplex2 · 9 months ago

Text

Now I'm Yours | Feel It In Your Soul

↳ Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader ⤜ A/B/O, Established Relationship/Mates ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 6,697 ⚠️ Vulgar language, fingering, knotting, creampie, discussion of violent acts, fighting/physical altercation, alpha challenge, knife violence/attack, blood, injury, bond sex, dick licking/oral, slick eating, biting/marking, blood/wound licking, surprise pregnancy

A/N: Read Make You Mine, the first installment of this series, here!

⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to story masterlist

When you meet Jungkook’s family in the garage the next morning, the sun isn't even up yet. His parents are waiting next to the large SUV that’s idling by the open door when you enter through the side entrance from the laundry room.

After a hasty shower, you threw on jeans and a t-shirt and are now helping Junghyun load the back of the vehicle with a few boxes from the storage room. The tops of the boxes are labeled with various things, mostly boasting medical supplies or nonperishable foodstuffs.

“Did Jungkook say why he wanted us to bring all of this stuff?"

Junghyun looks up at you from under his brow as he bends over to retrieve the next box, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. “Donations. We’re going to be close to The Sanctuary, and we try to donate once a quarter if we’re able.”

This is the first you’ve heard of the Jeons donating to The Sanctuary. You’re intimately familiar with the place. It’s exactly what it sounds like: a sanctuary for abused or neglected omegas and their children. Mari was one such omega, cast aside by her original pack when she didn’t match with any of the alphas within it. It wasn’t until Roland, having just taken over as pack Alpha of your old pack, started up his own annual donations to The Sanctuary that he met Mari. Your old pack made at least a donation every six months after that, helping as many omegas and children as possible.

It’s not that you wouldn’t think the Jeons are a pack that would help those less fortunate; you’d just not given it much thought, considering you grew up thinking they were run by power-hunger alphaholes. Not that Jungkook isn’t an alphahole, he’s just…maybe not as bad as you once thought—even without the rose-tinged view you have of him now from being your mate.

The duel is taking place on neutral territory, which happens to be an old warehouse that’s been converted into a performance theatre in the entertainment district of the central city. The warehouse was renovated a few decades ago by the council when enough of the surrounding packs hounded them for a space to meet en masse.

It’s about three hour's drive, the view filled with the sun peeking over the mountains and trees with their leaves changing in preparation for winter. You sit in the passenger seat, head resting against the window while you try not to stress too much over the events of the next twenty-four hours.

“Come on, dear,” the soft voice of Jungkook’s mother drags you from your rumination. She’s leaning through the gap between the front seats, her hand lightly squeezing your shoulder. “We’re here.”

You hadn’t even realized the vehicle had stopped and that Junghyun and Jungkook’s father had gotten out already.

“Sorry,” you mutter, popping open the door and sliding out.

She meets you along the side of the SUV, a concerned look pinching her brow. “Are you feeling okay?”

Now that she mentions it, you are feeling a bit off-kilter. Though, it’s probably just the nerves. “Just worried, that’s all,” you explain, pressing a hand against your stomach.

“Did you skip breakfast?” she asks, hooking her arm around your other one and slowly leading you to where Junghyun and his father stand near the elevator of the parking garage.

Breakfast was the last thing on your mind this morning. “Yeah. I’ll be okay, though.”

“Nonsense,” she tuts, producing a whole-grain protein bar from the bag slung over her other shoulder. “You’ll feel better with something in your stomach. Now, let’s go find my son. Being near your alpha will do you a dose of good, as well.”

You nibble on the protein bar, looking to simply placate her, but find yourself suddenly ravenous and consume the whole thing in three bites. It sits like lead in your belly, and you immediately regret wolfing it down so quickly.

“This foolish display will start at precisely noon, not long now,” Jungkook’s father states, the clip of his cane hitting the linoleum flooring of the elevator echoing the disapproval that’s evident in his voice.

Junghyun presses the button that’s labeled ‘theatre hall’ on the control panel and the cabled car begins a swift ascent up to the fifth floor. You caught sight of Jungkook's motorcycle in the parking garage, sitting next to Jimin’s red sports car. A few other familiar vehicles lined the rows, but there were dozens more you didn’t recognize.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you feel a familiar humming warmth bloom in the center of your chest. It’s the same feeling you’ve learned to associate with being nearer to Jungkook. Peeking at your phone, you see it’s a message from the alpha, letting you know he’s waiting for you just on the other side of the elevator doors.

“There you are,” Jungkook exhales, not even waiting for you to get off the elevator before he’s gathering you into his arms. His scent engulfs you, immediately putting you at ease. Jungkook is all alpha, and as much as you hate to admit it, he’s exactly what you need; your stomach and nerves are instantly soothed.

Jungkook’s father clears his throat, drawing Jungkook’s attention. “What news do you have?”

Jungkook sighs, releasing most of his hold on you, but keeps an arm over your shoulders and ushers you out of the elevator and into the hall. “Most all the other families have arrived. Jimin is with Daehyun now. I haven’t managed to lay my eyes on either Raiden or Demetrius. According to the council, they’re supposed to be in the eastern dressing rooms. I have seen Kiel skulking around the halls, though, creepy bastard.”

“Have you seen Hyunsoo?” Jungkook nods in answer to his father’s question. “I’d like to have a word with him.”

“Last I saw him, he was inside speaking with the council.”

“Perfect, I could do with a word for them, too,” Jungkook’s father grumbles before starting toward the entrance to the performance hall proper. Junghyun follows closely behind, after dipping his chin at Jungkook. You’ve never seen Jungkook get bent out of shape over designation deference, as some alphas do. He doesn’t force those below him to bow and scrape; he just asks for as much respect as he affords them in exchange. It’s just another tick you’ve had to add to your ‘Jungkook isn’t as bad as I once thought’ list.

“Are you feeling okay?” Jungkook asks softly, his eyes flicking between yours.

You do feel much better now that you’re with him, which would normally grate on you, but you can’t seem to muster up the typical ire for some reason. “I’ll be fine,” you assure him. “Just nerves.” That seems to satisfy him.

“Come on, let’s go before Dad causes too much of a scene.”

“Umm, I’ll be right there. I’m just going to go to the restroom real quick.”

He continues to stare at you for a moment longer before slowly nodding. “Okay. Mom, we’ll be right back—”

“No, no. It’s okay, you don’t have to come with—”

“Jungkook,” his mom interrupts you both, giving her son an amused smile. “She might be your omega, but I promise she doesn’t need you to hold her hand while she uses the restroom. I’ll wait here for her. You go on ahead with your father and Junghyun.”

Pink creeps up Jungkook’s neck and kisses his ears. “Right. Okay. I’ll see you inside,” he mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before reluctantly taking his arm from across your shoulders and heading toward the door his father and brother disappeared through.

“Thank you,” you say to his mom. “I’ll be right back.”

You’ve only been here a handful of times over the years for various events, but you’re able to follow the signs well enough to the restrooms located on this side of the venue. However, when you get there, the door is locked, and there is a janitorial wet-floor sign posted right outside.

It’s just your luck, right as you’re starting to feel a light wave of nausea wash over you. Taking a few deep breaths to try and calm your inner omega, who isn’t helping the situation at all, you turn to retreat back to where Jungkook’s mom is waiting for you a few halls over. Maybe she’ll have something that can calm your warring stomach and nerves.

“I can break the lock if you need to get in there,” a voice calls out from further down the hall just as you take a step to go back. “You look like you need it.”

You swivel toward the voice but can only make out the silhouette of someone standing in a darkened doorway a few doors down. They pull out a phone, and the blue light illuminates the ceiling for a moment before it’s plunged back into darkness. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“You don’t look fine to me.” The words come with a chuckle that slithers over your senses and sets you on high alert. You’ve heard that voice before. “If fact, you look like a helpless little omega that’s about to sick up all over the floor.”

That’s a thought. You might just do that, considering who steps out from that doorway, the face fitting with the name screaming inside your head. Kiel Barton. He’s every inch the viperous bastard he’s known to be. Despite being not much taller than you, he’s thicker through each arm and leg than both of yours combined. His bald head glints in the overhead light, and the jagged scar on his right cheek is bright white against his red-flushed face. He swaggers into the hallway, just a few feet away, twirling a switchblade through his thick fingers.

“I’m not helpless,” you seethe through your teeth. You don’t necessarily mean for the words to come out so aggressively, but they do. Years of not taking shit from anyone don’t seem to have worn off too much from your time of being mated with Jungkook. And if it’s one thing you’ve always hated, it’s how everyone thinks omegas are weak and soft—helpless without an alpha.

Kiel grins, and it reminds you of something you might see in a horror film right before the psycho killer attacks. “Oh, sweet, sweet omega,” he crows before sucking in a deep lungful of air, “I don’t think you realize just how helpless you are right now.”

You’re about to turn on your heel and run when he leaps. It’s like a strike of lightning; he moves so fast—faster than your reflexes can keep up with. Pain thunders through you as his burly form knocks into you and sends you hurtling a few feet down the hall to land in a heap on the floor.

He’s back on you in an instant, cold steel pressed against your neck. “Get off me!” you scream, trying your best to buck him off despite the disorienting feeling still reeling inside your head.

“I promised my brother as long as he did his part, I would do mine,” Kiel sing-songs in a demented tone, his words trailing off into another one of those spine-chilling chuckles.

“Fuck you!” You struggle under his weight, your knees and elbows trying to get any purchase along his thick-muscled body that they can. You manage to catch him along the neck with your hand, nails scoring bloody lines through the devil tattoo he has there.

An ear-splitting roar, the sound of loud banging, and running feet sound from somewhere down the hall, making Kiel’s laughter trail off. “Looks like my time to play is—” A small, sneakered foot meets the side of his ribs, turning his words into a grunt. The hit barely rocks him, but you can’t be sure of who it is, though, around his bulk.

“Get off of her, you snake!” snarls a familiar feminine voice, only it’s dripping with far more acid than you’ve ever heard before.

“FUCK! I don’t have time for this!” Kiel thunders, rearing back and bringing a fist around right into your temple, sending you careening into hazy darkness.

There is so much noise and movement that when you first come to, you think you’re dreaming. But then the very real pain lights up along your side, and you’re reminded that this is very much not a dream. You’re laying on the floor in the hallway outside the bathroom, side smarting hard from the impact of hitting the floor and the memory of a meaty fist stark in your mind.

You go to sit up, only to have your hand slip through a puddle of warm, sticky liquid. The scent hits you a second later, thick and metallic. “Oh gods,” you whimper softly. Your hand is bright red when you bring it up in front of your face.

“Please,” comes an even more pitiful whimper from beside you. Adrenaline kicks in, and you flip onto your hands and knees, letting your eyes swing over the scene around you.

A dozen bodies are packed in the hall, fists flying and mouths opened in concussive bellows. It’s pandemonium. Everyone is fighting, familiar faces and those of strangers alike. All the sounds combined make you want to crawl into a corner and cover your ears, but the form lying beside you keeps you right where you are.

Jungkook’s mom lies on the floor. Her body turned at an odd angle, with her hips going one way and her torso the other as if she was flung around like a ragdoll. You realize the whimpering is coming from her. She lifts a trembling hand toward you, and you grab onto it, crawling closer to kneel beside her.

The blood covering your hand, now seeping through the knees of your jeans, is coming from her. A familiar-looking switchblade is protruding from the upper right area of her chest, between her clavicle and shoulder, and there is a cut over her left eyebrow that blood is steadily oozing from.

“No, no, no!” You quickly rip off a strip from the bottom of your t-shirt and press it around the blade, trying to staunch the wound. The cut above her brow doesn’t look deep; all the blood is a bit alarming, but you know headwounds are the worst in being deceptive; they bleed so much. You’re also scared to take your hands away from her chest. “What did you do?”

Her eyes flicker open, rolling wide until they land on you. “Had to”—she pauses, whimpering in pain as someone stumbles backward and knocks into her splayed legs—”pr-protect the baby.”

“Protect the–protect the wh—”

“NO!” The alpha roar echoes through the hall, as loud as a thunderclap.

In the same instant that your hands are moved aside and replaced by the older, more gnarled ones of her mate, arms come around you from behind and you’re lifted up off the floor. Fear grips your throat, and you flail, aiming your elbow backward at whoever grabbed you.

“Stop, calm down!” Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of your fight instinct, and you sag in his arms. The fighting around you has turned into pockets of isolated struggle.

You blink a few times, clearing the panicked haze from your eyes, finally able to piece everything together. There are a few busted lips and some already swelling eyes, but there are at least a handful of familiar faces around you. Each one is executing some form of hold over individuals with less familiar faces; headlocks, arm bars, and others that look just as effective, if maybe more painful.

Then there is the scene at your feet, right out of a horror movie. Jungkook’s dad and brother are kneeling beside his mom, the knife still sticking out of her chest. It looks like the blood has stopped pooling around the blade, but you can’t seem to remember if that’s a good or a bad sign.

“Jungkook! Your mom, we need a medic!” you urge, struggling in his arms again.

A sinister, wet, cackling laugh cuts through the hushed din of the hallway before it turns into a hacking cough. You can hear the distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh and pained grunts.

”Shut up, you sick bastard!” The ragged cry comes from further down the hallway, where you see Seokjin with his arms wrapped around Kiel’s upper torso and Yoongi throwing fists into his stomach. “How dare you!?”

“Yoongi.” Jungkook doesn’t have to raise his voice at all. The other alpha stops, fist poised mid-punch, his shoulders heaving. “That’s enough.” The coldness in Jungkook’s tone has the hairs on the back of your neck prickling. You’ve never heard him sound so utterly emotionless. “For now.”

Pounding footsteps sound from the other end of the hall, and a few betas come skidding into view, medical bags in hand. “Out of the way!” one of the betas shouts, shouldering his way down the hall before dropping down beside Junghyun and beginning to work. “I need to get her stabilized before we can move her.”

Everything is still a bit cloudy for you; all you have are flits and flashes of memory, but it’s not hard to piece it together. Kiel came after you outside the bathroom, and then Jungkook’s mom tried to interfere. “Is she, is she going to be okay?” you ask, voice soft, your lips trembling around the question.

Jungkook hooks an arm under the backs of your legs and hoists you up against his chest, and you get your first good look at his face. There is a dribble of blood coming from the corner of his mouth and mild swelling coming up around his left eye.

He’s about to open his mouth to say something when a group of grey-haired alphas cut around the corner at the end of the hall, and the one in the front gasps dramatically, “Good gods! What has happened?” You groan at the loud sound, burying your face into Jungkook’s chest.

“This is what happens when you entertain absurd demands from a known trouble-making pack,” Jungkook’s father states with barely veiled malice.

“This is your mess,” Jungkook says, directing attention to the elders shuffling their feet at the end of the hall. His words are acerbic despite him speaking at a normal volume. It’s an alpha statement, carrying the cutting edge of an unspoken command. The entire hallway stills, the air thick with tension.

“Our mess?”

“If you had listened to me from the start about how utterly ridiculous this whole duel bullshit was, this”—he nods down at his mother, who is still being worked on by the betas—”wouldn’t have happened. I’ll have all of you off the council before the week is over, mark my words,” he seethes. “And, if she doesn’t recover fully, I’ll have more than just your titles. Yoongi, Seokjin, you know what to do.” With that, Jungkook turns and stalks down the hall, carrying you with him.

🌙🌙🌙

Jungkook

There is so much rage simmering beneath Jungkook’s skin that he thinks he might explode if he doesn’t let it out somehow. However, the only outlet he wants right now is you—to get lost in your body and your soul—but you’re in no state to take the brunt of his emotions.

“Jungkook.” Your soft voice draws his gaze down to your face. Seeing the swelling around your eye makes him want to turn around and finish what Yoongi was starting. Jungkook isn’t violent, but he could level the entire city right now if he weren’t so focused on getting you checked out. You bring a hand up and lightly trace the break in his lip. “What happened?”

“Raiden and Demetrius. I think this was their plan all along. One minute, Father and I were talking to the council while we waited, and the next, Raiden and Demetrius, along with a half dozen of their pack, came bursting into the theatre and attacked us.” Jungkook sighs, shaking his head. “I felt you, I felt the…” the trails off, not wanting to voice those feelings aloud. The pure terror he felt through his mate connection to you. The tie between the two of you has never really been an open street, he’s never been able to feel your emotions so viscerally before. It was almost enough to take him to his knees. If he didn’t need to fight off a pack of rabid alphas, it nearly might have. “I’m sorry,” Jungkook rasps.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. We knew they were up to no good. I should have been more vigilant or, at least, taken you up on your offer to escort me to the restroom.” You try to laugh, but it turns into a groan as your head pounds.

“Let’s get you to the hospital so they can check you over.”

No amount of protests from you will deter Jungkook from getting you to a doctor. Junghyun texts him shortly after he places you in the backseat of the SUV, letting Jungkook know that everyone else is on their way to the hospital and an ambulance is en route to get their mother but that the betas are hopeful.

Several hours later, you’ve been released from the hospital with confirmation of no lasting damage, just a recommendation to get some rest. Jungkook’s lip is patched with a butterfly stitch, per your insistence, and it itches as he sits on the edge of the bed in the hotel room he booked before leaving the hospital. Even though you aren’t concussed or anything, Jungkook didn’t want to risk taking you all the way back to pack lands.

Besides, his mother was admitted and is still there for observation, and he doesn’t feel comfortable being too far away while she’s in recovery. She went in for surgery immediately upon arrival and woke up not too long ago. Junghyun and their father are staying at the hospital with her until she’s cleared to go home, which will hopefully not be more than a few days. Apparently, her wounds looked worse than they were, and she was fortunate Kiel didn’t get her an inch further to either side. Otherwise, it might be a very different outcome.

Jimin texted him a bit ago, letting him know the entire Barton pack is being detained at the local precinct, and the authorities are awaiting word from Jungkook about charges. The council sequestered themselves behind closed doors, but the duel was considered null due to the circumstances. Jimin feels bad about being part of the ruse, even if he was just being used as a means to get close to the Jeon pack.

It’s come to light that the Bartons decided to use their feud with the Parks because they knew the Jeons wouldn’t sit idly by. One big, elaborate plan, all to get close to Jungkook’s Luna and try to tear down the hierarchy. If Jungkook lost his Soulmate, he’d lose his foundation of power as well. Or so, that’s what the buzz was when some of the Barton betas were interrogated, according to Jimin.

Jungkook knows everything is going to be okay, that you’re going to be okay; the doctor told him as much. But, despite that assurance, he can’t seem to relax. You’re curled up in the bed, facing him, and you look so peaceful, even with the swelling on the side of your face, but all he can feel is rage when he sees that…rage and so much guilt.

He never should have let you go to the restroom on your own. If he has his way, he’s never going to let you out of his sight again. It’s such an alarming realization, going from one polar sensation to the next. The fact he could give two shits less about you just a few months ago, and now here he is wanting to murder someone for touching you, is hard to wrap his head around.

Yet, here he is, fisting the edge of one of the blankets as he battles this feeling inside himself. The fact his alpha has been mostly silent since Jungkook laid eyes on you in that hallway is just as alarming. It’s almost like his alpha is giving him space. For the first time since coming into his designation, he feels like a giant void separates him from his alpha; he doesn’t like it.

There’s also the pile of papers sitting on the desk, a few feet away, that hold another key bit of information that won’t let him relax. It was standard testing, just something to help rule other things out and see what kinds of tests they could and could not perform to assess your head.

You’re pregnant.

Now that he knows, Jungkook can tell. There is a distinct, underlying change to your scent. It’s sweeter somehow, more alluring in the sense that you now smell partly like him. He should have known before. He knows that if he hadn’t spent so much time away from you, he would have realized it sooner.

You were surprised, but your shock seemed more subdued. When questioned, you told Jungkook what his mother had said to you. Somehow, even his mother knew before he did. Jungkook feels like a failure, like he’s done nothing right by you. It had to have happened the night of your designation celebration. Neither of you had bothered with any preventative measures that night, too lost in the touch and feel of each other to care.

And now, here you are, pregnant without a bite on your neck and a knot on the side of your head. If anything were to have happened to the baby��Jungkook isn’t sure he can even think about that right now. Not without wanting to put his fist through the wall.

He’s spent weeks worried about staying away from you when all along, he was clearly concerned about all the wrong things. The doctor assured him that even the most attentive of alphas take several weeks before they can smell their own child in the womb. But that doesn’t make Jungkook feel any better.

He thinks back on all the curt and what he thought were nagging messages he had gotten from his mother the last few weeks and can see them in a different light now. She wasn’t just trying to chastise him about his duty; she was trying to coax him home so he could be there for his mate in a way he should have from the start.

Jungkook knows what he needs to do now. There is no question about it. Though, it’s not because he feels obligated…no, he truly wants to solidify that bond with you. As soon as you’re ready, he’s going to offer himself to you, finally and fully.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” your sweet voice breaks him out of his thoughts and makes him release his tight hold on the sheets.

Your eyes look so big and bright even in the dim light of the hotel room as you sleepily blink up at him. How he never wanted to give himself over to you so completely before now marks him as a sure fool.

He sighs, exhaling a slow breath. “Yeah. How are you feeling?”

You stretch, wincing only slightly as your arm brushes along the side of your face. “Better, I think.”

“Can we talk?” he asks after a pause of silence.

You give him a guarded look as you slowly sit up and gather some of the blankets in your lap. The doctor told him you might start feeling the need to nest and gather comfort items, so he had specifically requested the Omega suite, which comes with complimentary brand-new fuzzy blankets and extra pillows that guests are allowed to take home when checking out.

“Sure,” you finally say.

Jungkook watches as emotions cross your face, echoing the pulse he can feel emanating from his chest. His alpha perks up, rousing for the first time in hours it feels like.

“Okay.” Now that he’s been given the go-ahead to talk, he’s suddenly feeling very self-conscious and uncertain. “I know you told me I don’t need to apologize, but I’m going to anyway.” Your lips form a thin line when he says that, so he hurries to continue, “Not for”—he gestures vaguely in your direction—”but for everything else. I want to apologize for everything before this. The way I’ve treated you and how I’ve acted. You’ve deserved better than what I’ve offered you these last few weeks—for being an asshole and a fucking dick,” Jungkook uses your own choice of words for him, and that earns him a small smile from you.

“I want to apologize, too, then. And before you can protest”—Jungkook was 100% about to—”just let me finish. Sure, you’ve not been the greatest the last few weeks, but I know I haven’t either. I should have tried harder, fought you on you being gone all the time, stood up for what I wan–er, needed, and been honest with how it was making me feel.”

Jungkook shakes his head, unable to believe how you’ve yet again turned the tables on him. “I, uh, there’s something that��there’s something I want to do,” Jungkook barely manages to get the words out as anxiety spikes at the prospect of you refusing.

“What is it?”

The look of intrigue on your face turns into pure shock as Jungkook prostrates himself on the bed in front of you, deliberately turning his head to expose the side of his neck to you, an act of submission. “I’m giving myself to you, wholly and completely. All those weeks ago, I claimed you and made you mine, and…now I’m yours.”

🌙🌙🌙

You stare at Jungkook, not sure what to say. “I-I don’t need,” you begin, reaching for Jungkook and encouraging him to sit up, “you to do that. You don’t have to bend to me…as long as you promise never to make me bend to you either.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I’ll never force you to be something that you’re not ever again. I’m sorry I didn’t realize this sooner, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you asked to come with me to Jimin’s. From now on, I’ll listen to you, and I’ll not dismiss your concerns or voice. I don’t want you to feel like you’re beneath me simply because you’re my mate. I want you as my equal instead.”

The truth behind Jungkook’s words is evident in the fervent way he delivers them but also in the way your omega mews in satisfaction. A bite for a bite, an equal. Even though you wouldn’t be leaving a permanent mark on his neck like he will on yours, it’s still the intention, and it’s completely unheard of in your world. There are stories, myths, really…but nothing wholly substantial.

You shift on the bed, gathering your knees underneath you. Your jeans went into the trash, and all the hospital had was a thin pair of shorts and a t-shirt for you to wear. You fluff out the blankets absently as you mull over his words. “Your equal?”

“Yes,” Jungkook resolutely declares.

“I think I would like that,” you whisper, eyeing Jungkook’s mouth with a quickly burning hunger.

“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks, swallowing hard as you lean in closer to him. “If you need more time to think, that’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” you counter, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Jungkook responds by kissing you hard on the mouth, wrapping his arms around you, and dragging you against his chest. He tastes like home; his tongue is warm and wet against yours, and you’re certain you could drown in the sensation if he let you. But, he comes up for air, breaking the kiss for a moment before pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw.

Even with the aches in your face and body, you respond to him. With every teasing nip of his mouth, you feel yourself growing wet. The fragrant cream of your slick blooms in the air, melding with his masculine and spicy scent to create the perfect, heady bouquet.

“I’ve never been more sure about something,” Jungkook whispers the affirmation between kisses until his warm breath ghosts over the scent mark on your neck. “You smell so damn good,” he groans.

You can feel his lips part over the skin there; his tongue laves out and swipes up the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. With trembling hands, you help each other discard your clothing, finally coming back together skin to skin. Jungkook pulls you into his lap, his thick cock sitting snugly against your ass. You can feel the bulge of his knot already as if his body is automatically responding to just your closeness.

“You can say stop at any time,” you tell him, earning a surprised grunt when you shove him back against the pillows and deliberately slide your ass slowly over his cock as you move backward.

There is a challenge in his eyes as you meet them. You move until you’re kneeling between his knees, cock sitting prettily before you. “Where, ah,” Jungkook sucks in a stilted breath when you take the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, “did you want to?” Pink tinges Jungkook’s ears as he looks down at you, mouth full of him. You tap the inside of his thigh and raise your brows in silent question. “O-okay, just…just be gentle.”

That makes you chuckle, the vibration coming up your throat, and you can tell it sends a shock through Jungkook; his head drops back, and his mouth opens with a loud moan. “Gentle says the man about to put a permanent bite on my neck. An act that is none too gentle, I might add,” you say, letting his cock slip out from between your lips.

“Okay, that’s fair,” he relents, his words breathy as you trace along the underside of his dick with your tongue. “Be as aggressive as you want, then.”

Feeling egged on just a little by that declaration, you plant your teeth firmly into the meat of his inner thigh and bite as hard as you dare. Your teeth pinprick his skin, and the metallic tang of blood leeches onto your tongue. Jungkook grunts; his whole body shivers against your mouth.

“Was that okay?” you ask tentatively once you’ve pulled back to admire the twin crescent impressions you left behind. There isn’t that much blood. The two small wounds from your teeth are already clotted.

Jungkook lets out a heavy exhale as his body finally relaxes back against the bed. His cock twitches beside your face, producing a thick string of pre-cum that has your mouth watering for a taste.

“That was,” he pants, “hot as fuck.”

Pride fills you, and your body kindly reminds you with an intense throb in your clit, how much it turns you on when Jungkook talks like that. “Your turn,” you urge, desperate to get his teeth on your skin and his cock in your pussy.

Jungkook growls his approval, letting his alpha strength take over, and maneuvers you easily into a kneeling position in front of him. Using a gentle hand in your hair, he pulls you up until your back is pressed against his chest, giving him unfettered access to the front of your body while being able to tease your clit with the tip of his length.

“Are you ready for me?” he asks, using the hand in your hair to angle your head sideways so he can lick along the side of your neck. “Let’s see.” His other hand slides down the front of your body, tweaking your nipples on the way, until his middle finger grazes over your swollen, aching clit.

“Don’t tease me,” you say between clenched teeth. Your omega adds her indignation to your own, making your words come out laced with additional grit.

“I just want a little taste,” Jungkook whispers as he hooks his finger lower and massages it along your slit, collecting a generous amount of slick as he does so. You watch as his finger comes up and disappears beside your face.

The wet laving sound of Jungkook sucking his finger sends a shudder through you. You reach down with your hands, cupping Jungkook’s cock in one and using the other to part the lips of your pussy so you can fit him against your entrance. “Fuuuck,” you drawl out as the broad head of his cock slides in.

“I love the way your pussy tastes,” Jungkook moans, dropping his hand to your hip and using it to guide your ass back against him, forcing him deeper. “It’s almost as good as how it feels.”

His fingers prod along your hip, sliding until his palm rests over your lower belly. You whimper, rocking your hips the best you can, and place your hand over his. “How do I look?” you ask. “You once told me I’d look so pretty once I was pregnant with your pup. Do you still think that?”

“You are,” he starts, “the single most”—he emphasizes the words with long, rolling strokes of his cock that have his knot kissing your lower lips with every forward motion—”beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. Even before I fucked you raw and knocked you up.” The beautiful, endearing words contrast so wildly with the dirty confession he tacks on at the end. Proving once again that Jungkook knows exactly how to wind you up and have you begging for more.

“Prove it,” you goade, intentionally dipping your head to the side to expose your neck further to him.

The moment his teeth touch your skin, you both freeze. It lasts only a second, the time it takes for them to sink into the tender expanse of your scent gland. It’s like a double punch to the gut; you can feel it all the way in your soul. The bond snaps into place the same instant Jungkook fits his knot inside you, and you explode, disintegrating into a million tiny little points of pleasure.

Your body opens for him, both physically and mentally. What was once a small trickle of feeling now becomes a deluge of intensity. You’re vaguely aware of Jungkook groaning as he meets his own release, throbbing heavily within your walls. You can feel him beneath your skin, feel the way your own body is wrapped so tightly around his knot, and the infinite pleasure that’s flooding through both of your systems.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jungkook mumbles against your neck, his teeth finally pulling free from your skin. “I can feel everything.”

It’s hard to tell where he begins, and you end. There is a sense of middling permanence, the perfect balance between alpha and omega. You once feared that submitting to him completely would change you in some cataclysmic way. And, it has…only, you don’t feel damned. In fact, it’s far more empowering than you ever thought possible.

Jungkook brushes his tongue along the fresh bite, tending to your wound in a tender way that has you slumping over. He follows you down, gently rutting his hips, which forces his knot to rub and grate inside of you, flooding you with another luscious rush of dopamine, like a second orgasm.

“Jungkook?” you ask, trying not to fall asleep as he continues to nuzzle your neck, and his knot keeps you secured so close to his warm body.

“Hmm?” he hums. Jungkook settles you both on your side, holding you against his chest with one hand and stroking and petting with soft, sensual strokes along every inch of your body that he can reach with the other.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I promise never to make you doubt me ever again. You are my soulmate, my Luna…the mother of my child. You are my everything.”

And just as Jungkook said, he made you his, and now he’s yours. Forever.

⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to story masterlist

◅ Back to Master List ©️ 2024-02-14 ColorMePurplex2

#bts #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts angst #bts smut #bts non idol au #bts abo #jungkook abo #alpha jungkook #omega reader #abo smut #bts knotting #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts enemies to lovers #alpha jungkook x omega reader #jungkook smut #bangtanwhq #btscreaturescoven

417 notes · View notes

colormepurplex2 · 10 months ago

Text

Now I'm Yours | Distance Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

↳ Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader ⤜ A/B/O, Established Relationship/Mates ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 7,314 ⚠️ Vulgar language, semi-hate sex, fingering, knotting, creampie, discussion of violent acts, drinking

A/N: Read Make You Mine, the first installment of this series, here!

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to story masterlist

If you thought Jungkook would have become Prince Charming after claiming you as his mate during your designation celebration, you were quite wrong—and perhaps a bit disappointed.

You moved to his pack lands a week ago, much to the disgruntlement of your old pack leader, Roland. It was the last thing he wanted for you; even if the Jeons agreed to adjust the boundary lines to where they were supposed to be, the centuries-long feud between the two packs was still a very sore subject.

You groan, blinking blearily at the weak morning light filtering in around the thick curtains over the windows across from the bed. At this point, it’s a bodily habit for one of your hands to swipe across the space beside you, seeking information, despite the hum in your chest having already confirmed it. The other side of the bed is cold, devoid of your mate, his scent so faint in the room you know he never even laid in the bed last night.

It irritates you that he doesn't communicate or consider your well-being. You wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he doesn’t experience the same discomfort that you do being apart from him so often and for such long periods. It’s the only explanation for why he can so easily leave you.

The intimate moments you shared well into the wee hours of the morning at your celebration seem like just a figment of your imagination, a figment your mind designed to taunt you. If it wasn’t for the giant rock residing on your lefthand ring finger, you might think it was a dream. But the teardrop-shaped amethyst surrounded by chips of starlight opal, reminiscent of the gown you wore the night of your designation celebration, is a constant reminder that this is, in fact, very real.

It’s not just the ring, which you came to learn is a family heirloom—the same ring his father gave his mother when they bonded—but also the ever-constant tug that you feel in the center of your chest, like a wildfire that refuses to be smothered. It’s accompanied by a hum right under your breastbone that only lessens when you can put your eyes on Jungkook, which is harder than it probably should be. He’s constantly gone, blaming his absence on being pack alpha.

So, you’ve spent most of your days since moving to the Jeon pack land with his mother. She’s a wild contrast, every inch the demure omega you met the night of your celebration while simultaneously intimidating the hell out of you. All it takes is one look from her, and you feel stripped bare, your soul hers for the reading. It doesn’t help when you periodically catch Jungkook’s father looming in the shadows as if he’s worried you might bring harm to his mate.

It’s expected of you, now that you’re to be the Jeon pack omega—Jungkook’s mate and intended Luna—to learn the art of mending and lead the healers' circle. In Roland’s pack, you stayed as far from the healer’s quarters and clinic as possible, suited more for field work and strategic planning of pack land agriculture. The idea of setting broken bones and tending to wounds is not your idea of a great time; far too delicate of work. Yet, in the Jeon pack, the responsibility for pack health falls on the pack omega—which is what you are now.

You grumble, shoving back the blankets and stretching your aching muscles. It’s not hard work, per se, learning medicine. That’s not why your body thrums with a dull throb of tightness. It’s the hours you spend pacing and waiting for Jungkook to come home. You hate it, staying up all hours of the night to the point your body grieves sleep and comfort alike; it’s just not something that can be helped, damn him.

The rumbling hiss of the shower turning on in the attached bath draws your attention. “Fucker,” you mumble under your breath, beelining straight for the closed door. “What the…fuck…is…your problem?” your question trails off, the words slowed by the sheer shock of what you find when you fling open the door.

Muscles. So many muscles. Thick, tattooed fingers wrapped around a straining, water-slick knot. The scent wafting through the steam is overwhelming. It stops you in your tracks. Whatever tirade was filling your head fades. It��s been weeks since you’ve seen Jungkook’s body not hidden behind leather and denim—since you’ve been able to get a lungful of his fresh, tantalizing scent. Saliva instantly pools under your tongue.

“The only—” he pauses to moan “—problem I see is you standing there smelling like that,” the last words are bitten out around a throaty growl. The slick sound of his fist sliding up and down his cock is loud in the silence that follows his statement, being heard clearly over the pelting of the water hitting tiles. “Get your ass in here or get out.”

After weeks of barely-there-glances and absence, he truly expects you to just hop in the shower with him? He can shove that offer up his ass. But, for some reason, your body can’t seem to get on that reasonably sound page with your brain.

Your shorts and tank top hit the floor before you can stop your hands. A low rumble vibrates in your chest as you advance on the shower, fully intent on making Jungkook beg for it. Your omega snarls, making your whole body shudder as she bats against your inner cage, demanding attention from her mate.

Jungkook’s eyes narrow on you, his lips curling into a silent snarl of his own. Your body instantly responds, arousal throbbing between your thighs. As soon as you swing open the shower door, he’s wrapping his arms around you and hauling you inside. The kiss of hot water is nothing compared to the heat from his skin sliding against yours.

All thought and pretense of making him beg vanish with the first press of his lips to yours. Even if you want to resist, the omega within you won’t let you; she’s far too consumed with reclaiming her mate.

“You’re an asshole,” you manage to gasp between nipping bites and kisses.

“And you’re mine,” he snaps back, fisting a hand in your hair to angle your chin up so he can nuzzle into your neck. You preen under his words and attention, your omega cooing in supplication.

Jungkook drives his hips against yours, pressing you against a water-slick wall. His teeth graze the sensitive skin that covers your scent gland. Your body shortcircuits at the contact, a flood of panic sobering you quickly.

You shove your hands into his hair and wrench his head away from your neck. “Fuck you. How dare you ignore me for weeks and then expect me to—ahmm,” your rant turns into a moan when Jungkook slides a hand between your bodies and pushes two thick fingers between your thighs. His middle and ring finger slide along either side of your clit, pinching the sensitive bundle and making you forget how mad you are once again.

“I’ve been busy,” he punctuates each word with a thrust of his fingers into your pussy. The thick, creamy scent of your slick perfumes the air. You turn to putty in his arms, moaning and grinding on his fingers, trying to seek more.

Vitriol sits on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be unleashed on him, but all your anger bleeds away when he hooks his hands under your ass and hauls you up, cock nudging eagerly at your entrance.

He fills you in one swift thrust, the intrusion a sweet relief kissed with pain as your body adjusts to the swell of his cock. “Fuck,” you moan and wrap your arms around Jungkook’s neck to help him move your body over his, wet tendrils of your slick already dripping to the shower floor. You cross your ankles, feet sitting at the small of his back, securing you against his hard physique.

“I can’t stop thinking about the way your body squeezes my knot and the smell of your greedy cunt full of my cum. I can’t fucking focus,” he snarls, hips battering against yours, “it’s driving me insane. I can barely concentrate on what I need to do—important business that you’re ruining!”

His words lash through you, bringing your anger to the surface once more. “Maybe if you gave me more than a fleeting moment of your time, you wouldn’t be suffering,” you mock sweetly, nails scratching down the back of his neck as you force yourself onto his cock harder and faster.

The bulge of his knot teases at your opening with every downward stroke. All it would take is a particularly good bounce to fit it within your body. Taking the reigns, forcing a shift of control, you tighten your grip on him and drag yourself down his cock with renewed intent.

Jungkook lets loose a string of curses mixed with strangled sounds you’ve never heard him make. “Oh, gods!” He sags forward, pinning your body against the wall with his full weight. You can feel his legs trembling as he unleashes a torrent of warmth within your walls. His cock pulses, sending jolts of pleasure fluttering through you.

Weeks of pent-up emotion come flooding out in a cascade of slick and full-body shudders. Spots of light dance behind your tightly shut lids, and a wave of dizziness sweeps through, making everything fuzzy as time seems to stand still. “Jungkook,” you sob his name in a fervent whisper, your body wringing itself ragged around his throbbing knot.

As your walls clamp around him, he cries out again, the words a half-coherent jumble, but there’s no mistaking the fervent, “I’m sorry.”

He turns, being careful not to let you shift too much, to lean against the wall, and then slowly slides down until he’s sitting with you in his lap. The water from the shower pelts down, hitting your shoulders and cascading down your back.

“Say it again,” you encourage, mumbling against his chest. Jungkook wraps his arms around you and lets his head fall back to rest against the tiles, his eyes sliding shut.

His response rumbles under your ear. “Say what?”

“Don’t be an ass, you know what.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, a heavy exhale whispering over the top of your head.

“Are you going to explain where you’ve been, why you’ve been away so much? Is this a whole ‘distance makes the heart grown fonder’ thing because I call bullshit.”

You’re almost sure he’s going to ignore your question, the way silence hangs heavy in the air of the shower. Finally, he says, “The Bartons. They’ve been causing trouble for the Parks again.”

You push away from his chest, leaning back to look him in the eye. The new angle reminds your body that Jungkook is still knot deep, your walls automatically flexing around the thickness, making him sigh for a different reason. If you were in a different mood, you’re confident you could make him cum again just by pulsing your muscles around him. But, for once, he’s actually giving you answers…something you’ve been seeking for weeks now.

Jungkook eases you off his cock; his knot is deflated enough that it doesn’t pain you when he does so. You settle beside him in the shower, taking him fully in for the first time. There are dark circles under his eyes and the beginnings of a bruise coloring his jaw. He’s clearly been in some sort of altercation.

“What’s going on? Is that where this came from?” you ask, brushing your thumb over the bruising on his chin.

Grabbing a cloth from the nook filled with your special omega soaps and oils, Jungkook gently pries your legs further apart. “Our union sparked something within the packs. Alpha Park extended a peace treaty to Alpha Barton with the idea that if our clans could finally come to peace after centuries of feud, then they could, too. It was rejected, and maybe a few fists were thrown,” he explains, absently cleaning up the mess between your thighs.

You can picture it now, the austere-looking Barton alpha sneering at any prospective idea of peace brought forward by the more subdued Alpha Park. It’s no wonder Jungkook has been gone so much.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Frustration heats your words, reminding you of the time you’ve spent alone, waiting and wondering.

His tired eyes meet yours. “I don’t know.” Muscled and tattooed shoulders rise and fall with his response. “Would you believe me if I told you I’ve been scared to come home? Scared of” —he drops the rag and gestures vaguely between your body and his— “this?”

You’re not sure if that should make you feel better or worse. Jungkook acknowledges what’s between you two while admitting he’s been purposefully avoiding you because of it.

“What’s there to be scared of?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. It’s not like the connection between the two of you can be broken; it’s not like he can just ignore you forever.

Jungkook scoffs. “You know what they want from us, right?”

“They?” you ask, confused.

“They, everyone. They are all expecting us to bond.”

You laugh lightly. “Well, yeah, of course they do. That’s what we’ll have to do eventually anyway. You’re scared of a little bite?”

“Not eventually, no. They want it now.”

That makes you pause. You knew there was no stopping the inevitable mate claiming that could come, the bite to solidify you as Jungkook’s Luna…but you thought that wouldn’t come for years yet. It’s customary for a mated pair to wait until they’re ready to bear children and take over—take over the pack—but Jungkook is already the leader of his pack. You’re unsure why you didn’t piece that together sooner; you feel like a fool.

You shake your head. “That’s our decision, isn’t it? If we’re not ready to bond, then we’re not ready.”

“Try telling that to my dying father,” Jungkook mumbles under his breath, but you still catch the confession clearly.

“Your father is dying?”

Jungkook grunts in response. “Just another piece on my already full plate.”

Everything from the last week comes crashing down on you. The way his father would linger in the shadows and doorways, leaning heavily on his silver-tipped cane, and the force at which his mother was drilling information into you.

“You could have told me all of this. It would have made the last week…” you trail off, not wanting to confess to him just how terrible the last week has been in his absence.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. You know now. But, I guess while we’re on the subject of sharing information, I should also add that Demetrius challenged Hyunsoo to a pack duel when he rejected the treaty.”

Your mouth opens, but no words form. There haven’t been duels held between packs in at least the last two hundred years. It’s absurd. Demetrius would not have challenged Hyunsoo unless he could guarantee his win because to duel and lose, well…there’s a reason duels stopped being a thing.

“Rejected treaty or not, surely Park said no?” Hyunsoo Park might be a soft, well-mannered Alpha, but he’s no fool.

“How could he?” Jungkook asks, pushing up from the floor and stepping under the direct spray of the shower. The water has gone cold, drawing a groan from Jungkook before he grabs a bar of soap, vigorously scrubs his body, rinses, and turns it off. “That’s as good as a personal slight against Hyunsoo’s designation.”

You slowly stand, retrieving two towels from the heated rack. “Barton is either a fool or has a trick up his sleeve. There’s no way this is actually happening, right? Two pack Alpha’s fighting…it’s ridiculous and archaic.”

Jungkook takes the towel you offer him and pats his face and chest before wrapping it around his waist and stepping out of the shower. “The pack Alphas aren’t going to be the ones fighting," he says.

“But…that—then who?”

The pain and anger evident in Jungkook’s eyes as he turns to meet your gaze gives you a clear idea about the answer to your question before he even opens his mouth. “Raiden and…Jimin.”

“That’s…we can’t let that happen. We have to call a council, demand the elders put a stop to this nonsense.”

“Don’t you think that was my first step? I called them the moment I heard. They said it was a petty feud between families, nothing new and nothing worth their time to unravel centuries of tradition over. The duel will happen in a few days time.”

You scoff, dragging your towel around your body as you follow him out of the shower. “There are small feuds, and then there’s whatever the fuck this is! They can’t just idly sit by while Raiden faces Jimin in a duel. They do understand what that means, right? A fight to submission…an alpha submitting to another alpha?! They’d let the hierarchy of one of the original families face potential ruin all because they don’t want to stand up and do something about it?”

Jungkook shakes his head, his shoulders tense as he grabs his toothbrush and begins to brush his teeth. “You’re not saying anything I don’t already know,” he mumbles around the foaming paste.

“Well, what are we going to do now?”

Spitting in the sink, Jungkook meets your eyes through the mirror before him. “We? We are not doing anything right now. I’m leaving again for the Park lands tonight. I’ll have you and my parents follow me before the day comes.”

“Like fuck you are! You’re not leaving me here again, even if it’s just for a few days,” you say, glaring at him.

In one smooth motion, Jungkook turns on his heel and crowds into your space, his chest bumping into yours. It takes tremendous effort not to immediately trace your hands over the warm expanse of flesh. “You will do as I say, Omega.” The command bites into your will, bending it to his, completely erasing any semblance of desire that was flaring.

“I hate you,” you manage to seethe around the thick knot in your throat that’s slowly strangling your defiance.

Jungkook pats your cheek, a shit-eating grin curling his lips. “You’re cute when you’re angry. The fight you have inside of you is exactly what I need in a Luna. When all of this is over, we will solidify the bond and fulfill our duty to the pack...whether we like it or not.”

🌙🌙🌙

Jungkook

Leaving you standing in the bathroom, Jungkook disappears into the closet to get dressed. Being honest with you should make him feel lighter, yet the weight of his responsibility feels even heavier now. Not only is Jungkook trying to help out his friend, someone he sees as a brother, but now he has as much as guaranteed he will be sinking his teeth into your neck in the very near future—whether either of you like it or not. Those last words linger in the back of his mind because he knows very well he won’t go near you if you don’t want him to.

It’s not like Jungkook doesn’t want to, and he knows you want to be with him—it’s not like that. The timing is just poor. Typically, mated pairs get years together before they have to bond, not weeks. However, the handful of weeks since your designation celebration might as well not even count, considering Jungkook has been acting like a pup with its tail between its legs. He’s been a fool for avoiding you so adamantly; it’s not doing either of you any favors.

Yet, here he goes, running off again. He pulls on boxers, jeans, and a long-sleeved black shirt before shrugging his worn leather jacket on. You’re standing by the bed, dressed in a fresh pair of cream-colored sweats, arms crossed and brow furrowed. Jungkook can feel the disapproval rolling off of you in waves. His alpha huffs his own annoyance.

If it wasn’t for the immense ache and the woeful misery of the beast beneath his skin, he might have continued to avoid you for another week or two. As it is, he can feel it yearning to wipe that look off your face and get lost in the sheets with you for a week instead.

“Let me come with you.”

“Absolutely not. Not yet.”

The last thing he’s going to do is put you in the middle of it all. His mother would wring his neck if anything happened to you, even inadvertently. She’s been harping on him since the day you moved in that he needs to take care of you because an omega of your stature and promise is valuable beyond measure.

“This isn’t your fight alone, Jungkook. This is my pack, now, too. I deserve the chance to help wherever I can.”

That’s the crux of it, too, it seems. Because this is your pack now, and you do deserve the chance to help. The Parks and Jeons might be separate communities within the hierarchy, but they’re as close as family. He just can’t stand the thought of you somehow getting caught in the crosshairs between Raiden and Jimin. He’s tempted to bar you from attending the duel altogether, but he knows even he doesn’t hold that much power.

“You’re right. This isn’t my fight alone. It is technically Jimin’s fight, and I will just be there to support and help him prepare for it.”

You throw up your hands, eyes snapping up to the ceiling as you groan in frustration. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

Jungkook can’t help the small smile that suffuses his face. You’re so fiery, and that’s easily the single most attractive thing a woman can be to him. “I know. How about a compromise? I promise to text or call more while I’m gone?”

That softens your resolve. Your hands land on your hips, and you give him a skeptical look, one eyebrow hooking upward. “So, you’ll actually answer your phone this time?”

“Promise,” Jungkook calls over his shoulder as he jogs out of the room and down the hall to the front door. He shoves his feet into his black riding boots and turns to grab the door handle. The sudden searing ache in his chest has him jerking to a halt, fingers slipping from the cool bronze knob.

He grumbles under his breath but marches back down the hallway and into the bedroom. Your lips turn down in a frown, clearly confused by his actions. “Forget something?” you ask.

“Actually, I did,” he mutters before cupping a hand along the side of your neck, thumb dangerously close to brushing over your scent gland and planting his mouth firmly over yours.

The reaction is instantaneous. You melt against him and open to his demanding tongue. It’s only for a moment, just a taste to make his alpha shut up. Jungkook will never admit that it’s just as much for him, though, too. As soon as the first moan escapes your chest, he pulls back, gives you one last peck on the forehead, and promptly turns to leave again.

“Fucking dick,” he hears you grouse behind him as he escapes down the hallway.

Thankfully, there is no sudden pain that stops him this time. Jungkook is on his bike and halfway to Jimin’s house before he feels that familiar ache creep back into his chest, sitting right over his heart, alternating between snarling and whimpering. Not much longer, just another week, he tells himself…just another week, and you’ll be having more than just his hand on your throat.

“Hey, asshole!” Jimin greets fondly, his tone full of mirth, as soon as the engine is cut and Jungkook swings his leg over the back of his bike.

“Who are you calling an asshole?” Jungkook asks, unamused by his friend’s teasing tone.

Jimin, bleached blond hair pushed back, exposing his forehead, claps Jungkook on the back and says, “You. Because I can smell her on you, and you’re an asshole for coming back so soon and leaving her behind. I just know she’s not happy with you. You’re an asshole for the whole fuck and run thing, giving us alphas a bad name.”

Jungkook presses his lips into a thin line. He can’t argue with that. But still, Jimin wouldn’t know anything about what he’s going through…the pressures of what’s expected of Jungkook. Jimin might be an alpha like Jungkook, but he hasn’t taken over for his pack yet, nor has he found his true mate. Besides, if it weren’t for Jimin needing his support, he would have stayed…or so Jungkook tells himself.

“I left to come to support you, and this is the thanks I get,” Jungkook deadpans. “Now who’s the asshole?”

Jimin throws his hands up, walking backward in front of Jungkook as they head toward Jimin’s front door, his bare feet whispering over the grass of the front lawn. “That doesn’t completely make you not an asshole. But, thank you. You should have at least brought her with you or something, though. I prepared the guest room with all the omega necessities and everything.”

Not wanting to continue with this conversation, Jungkook changes the subject, “Have you heard any more from the Bartons or the council?”

That sobers Jimin up quickly. He turns on his heel, shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and falls into step beside Jungkook.

“Nope. Demetrius is still holding to his challenge.”

“And the council?” Jungkook asks, not letting himself hope they’ve grown some sense in the last few hours.

Jimin shrugs and then uses his shoulder to push through the front door that he left ajar. “Same as before. They say it’s the Barton’s right to challenge us. It might be ancient and ridiculous, but the tenets haven’t been changed in nearly five hundred years. Duels are completely within anyone’s rights.”

It’s on the tip of Jungkook’s tongue to spout off that he should challenge Raiden for even considering challenging Jimin, but this whole situation has been so delicate to navigate. Jungkook doesn’t want to undermine Jimin in any way, and challenging Raiden himself might come off as a declaration that Jungkook doesn’t think Jimin is a strong enough alpha to beat Raiden in the first place.

Which is so far from the truth. Jungkook is fully confident that Jimin will be victorious. His friend is ferocious, an expert in many forms of martial arts, and has nearly as commanding of an alpha voice as Jungkook. But that in and of itself makes this whole thing far more complicated. Because everyone knows of Jimin’s abilities, why would anyone challenge him if they know they can’t win? Unless they plan to do something dirty—cheat their way to victory. You were right in your thinking about that.

Jungkook just doesn’t want Jimin to get hurt because Raiden wants to fight dirty. If the elders discover Raiden cheated, it might ruin Raiden’s chance of being the Barton pack alpha, but that would just make way for his younger brother, Kiel, to step into that role. And Kiel is far more of a dangerous alpha than Raiden. The possibilities are endless, and Jungkook hates all the uncertainty.

“So you’re really going through with this?” Jungkook asks, dropping down into a low-slung chair in Jimin’s open-concept living room.

Jimin’s back is to Jungkook as he fishes two beers from the fridge, the kitchen island the only thing separating the two spaces. “Don’t have much of a choice, it seems,” he confirms, offering a dark amber bottle to Jungkook before settling on the floor in front of the fireplace. “We can’t reject Demetrius’ challenge, and there is no way I’m letting Dad face Raiden himself.” Jimin stretches out, using a hand to prop himself up as he extends his toes toward the small fire burning in the hearth.

Jungkook watches his friend. Jimin still holds much of the boyish charm he had in his youth. The bleached strands of his hair look like gold in the soft firelight. He’s only wearing jeans and a grey t-shirt, his feet bare and toes flexing in the warmth coming from the fire. Jimin brings his beer up and takes a sip—the brown glass looks molten in the flickering light. Jungkook watches as a line forms between Jimin’s dark brows, a solemn look stealing over his friend’s face.

Thinking to change the subject and mood to something a bit lighter all at once, Jungkook shoots a group text off before asking, “In the mood for some steaks and games?”

That earns him an appreciative smile from Jimin. Jungkook might not be able to challenge Raiden nor take over Jimin’s fight, but he can do everything in his power to ensure his friend knows he has the full support of Jungkook and their other friends behind him. An hour later, the other five of their friend group are gathered, a bottle of whiskey is being passed around, and steaks are sizzling away on the grill.

“Where’s your girl at, Jungkook?” Namjoon asks before sinking a solid ball into a corner pocket. This earns a sigh from Hoseok, who is standing on the other side of the pool table, softly thumping the rubber end of his cue on the floor as he waits to take his next turn.

Jungkook looks up from where he’s tending the steaks on the grill on the back patio, meeting Namjoon’s gaze through the open sliding glass door into the lounge. “At home.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Yoongi asks from his seat at the outdoor bar, where he’s chopping up vegetables for a salad to go with the steaks.

Taehyung comes up beside Jungkook, peeking over his shoulder at the sizzling slabs of meat. “I can’t imagine leaving behind a sweet piece of ass to come hang out with a bunch of dicks,” he comments, earning a swat from Jungkook that has him laughing and running to the other side of the deck and launching himself into the pool.

“You guys don’t understand,” Jungkook grumbles.

Seokjin swats the top of the water, splashing Taehyung once he surfaces, before climbing out of the pool and grabbing a towel, wrapping it around his hips. “So enlighten us, Kook.”

“My parents—the whole pack, really—are insisting I bond with her immediately. And, I know that that shouldn’t be a big deal, considering I’m the pack alpha. But I shouldn’t be pack alpha for another five years at least, so it’s making my experience a little different than most. I just thought once I found my Luna, I’d have more time to get to know her—fall in love with her—before putting my bite on her. Shit, guys, it feels too soon, and it’s got me all fucked up in here,” he says, using the handle of the tongs to tap the side of his head. “I can’t be around her for more than five minutes without popping a knot. I feel like I’m a gods damned pup all over again. I should be enjoying my time drowning in slick instead of worrying about a bond.”

“What’s so wrong with that?” Jimin asks, sounding genuinely curious. He’s been laughing and smiling the whole time, but there is an underlying tightness that Jungkook can see behind Jimin’s eyes. “Why is a bond so scary? You can still get to know her even after that.”

Jungkook purses his lips, flipping the steaks before stepping back and meeting his friend's eyes. “I guess it just feels…like we don’t get a choice in it? I mean, I know with our designations and the mating draw, we don’t get to choose who, but most people get to choose when. I want her to want me because I’m me, not because of my alpha.”

“And you’re doing a bang-up job of that by being here with us instead of with her,” Hoseok says, giving Jungkook a disapproving eyebrow raise.

“I have too much going on right now to be—”

Jimin holds up a hand, stopping Jungkook from continuing. “You don’t get to use my situation as an excuse. I already told you I had prepared for you to be bringing her with you.” That earns approving nods for Jimin from everyone else and unimpressed looks for Jungkook.

“Fuck,” Jungkook whispers to himself, pulling the steaks off the grill and plopping them onto a plate, knowing once again that his friends are right about how he’s acting—which is like a complete and utter asshole.

For a mated alpha, it seems he has shit instincts when it comes to his omega. He makes a vow to himself to start being better. As soon as everything with the Bartons blows over, he’s going to change how he treats you and win you over in true mate fashion before he puts his canines anywhere near your neck.

🌙🌙🌙

Jungkook keeps his promise, sending you a few generic text messages and even video calling you later that same night. You spent your day sequestered away with his mom, memorizing different herbs and their medicinal properties.

The next day, you realize that as much as you might not have cared to learn about these things initially, you find yourself surprised by how much you enjoy them. Perhaps it helps when she brings out a box of dried herbs labeled ‘Omega’, but it’s also a nice distraction from worrying about what’s going on with Jungkook; you haven’t heard from him at all today.

“And this?” Jungkook’s mom asks, tapping her finger on a vacuumed sealed baggy of dark green sprigs.

You examine the small spindles of green needles and cross-reference the book in your lap. “Fennel. Used for treating spasms.”

“Good, and this?” Her finger moves to a clear glass jar full of dried white and yellow flowers.

“Chamomile.” You smile, not even having to check the book to see if you’re right. Your own mother keeps a garden of chamomile and mint. She told you once that she started growing it for Mari, your old pack alpha’s late Luna, before she got sick.

Jungkook’s mom picks up the jar and twists off the lid, holding it out for you to smell it. “It’s one of my favorite scents,” she sighs happily. For once, her stony exterior breaks a bit to show you the warmth underneath.

“Reminds me of home,” you say before you can think better of it.

That deteriorates whatever ground you feel like you had made in that instant. “This is your home now,” she says, pointedly looking at the ring on your finger that once sat on hers before she pops the lid back on the jar and replaces it in the box. “You’ve not yet bonded with my son. Why?”

The abrupt change in subject and the lancing question have you opening your mouth just to snap it shut again. “Excuse me?”

Her shoulders heave up and down with a long, drawn-out sigh. She gives you a withering look like you’re a child to whom she is about to have to explain something very simple. “You both know what is needed of you. Yet your neck still doesn’t bear his mark. There is nothing to show for the combined strength of the pack. People are starting to talk.”

You swallow past the bile in your throat. Are you supposed to care if people are talking? It feels like a half-assed effort, but the only thing you can think to say to her unreadable face is, “Jungkook has been gone, helping with the Parks.”

“Yes. Yes, so he has,” she mutters, her eyes narrowing and dropping to the box still open on the floor between the two of you. “He is far too ambitious for his own good. He should be focused here instead of trying to play referee for a bunch of chest-pounding alpha fools.”

It is so surprising that she would make such a blunt and crass statement, that it takes you a moment to realize there is another presence in the room. A deep throat clears, drawing both of your attention and snapping you out of your shock.

“I think what my sweet wife is trying to say is that Jungkook has responsibilities here that should outweigh those of other packs, even if those packs are our friends and allies.” Jungkook’s dad limps in, his silver-tipped cane thumping loudly on the hardwood floor. You can’t help but let your eyes flick over his burly form, looking for any sign that death is knocking on his door, as Jungkook let slip earlier.

Jungkook’s mom sniffs, giving you an indignant look that turns to heart-melting adoration as her gaze drifts to her husband. What little fire had flared moments ago within her is smothered by the bond to her alpha, making her once again a demure omega.

Watching that, witnessing it happen so clearly, has your own reservations and doubts bubbling up all over again concerning your impending bond with their alpha son. You don’t want to become someone’s doormat. Not that you see his mom as being a doormat for his father, but there’s just something so…unnerving about someone else being able to control you with just the sound of their voice that frightens you. The fact he can do that even without the bite doesn’t seem to make a difference.

Your phone buzzing in your pocket pulls you out of your thoughts. Checking it, you see it’s a call from Jungkook. “Speaking of,” you say, holding up your phone so they can see his name displayed across the screen.

“Tell him to come home,” his father says, giving you a curt nod of dismissal. You just give him a tight-lipped smile as you stand to leave.

“Hi,” you say in a hushed tone as you slip out of the room. Your lessons take place in the small community clinic; the room you were just in is one where supplies are kept. It’s doubled as your classroom for the last few weeks.

“Hey.” Jungkook sounds weary, his voice ladened with exhaustion.

“Is everything okay?” You continue down the hallway until you hit the backdoor. It swings open on silent hinges as you leave, angling yourself toward the house at the top of the hill—Jungkook’s home, and now yours, you suppose.

There is a long pause, during which all you hear is Jungkook’s soft breathing. “It could be better,” he finally replies.

“Is there anything I can do?” It’s an automatic response, to want to please him and make his life better; you love and hate it.

“No,” his reply whistles through the phone, carried on a sigh. “I should have brought you with me. I’m sorry, I keep fucking up, it seems.” Before you can formulate any sort of response to that, he continues, “The duel is happening tomorrow. I’ve already talked to my brother. He is going to drive you and our parents up first thing in the morning.”

“Wait, what? Tomorrow?” You mentally shuffle through the sporadic text messages he’s sent you the last day, trying to remember if he mentioned anything about the time frame.

You make it up the driveway and to the front door, but take a seat in one of the patio chairs instead of going inside. Jungkook shifts around and you can hear the distinct rub of fabric over the phone speaker before a soft grunt and exhale. “Sorry, I had to sit up before I ended up passing out on you. We stayed up too late last night.” He clears his throat. “I would have told you sooner, but after the others left last night, Jimin and I got called in by the council.”

“Did they change their minds?” you ask, trying to grab onto even the tiniest flicker of hope.

Jungkook mutters something that you can’t hear before speaking more clearly, “I wish. The stubborn old fools are more concerned with what an ancient book written five hundred years ago says than with what should actually be done.” He laughs; it’s a biting and humorless sound. “You should have seen the looks on their faces when I suggested writing a new set of tenets. The alpha stick is so far up their asses that they can’t see just how utterly ridiculous this whole farce is.”

“There is no way Demetrius isn’t going to try and pull something. None of this makes sense. Sure, the Parks and Bartons have beef, but for it to so suddenly come to this?”

“I know.” The frustration in Jungkook’s voice makes your omega mewl in concern. It’s been relatively quiet today, just a silent, observing presence until now. “All we can do is be there and keep our eyes and ears open for any possible nefarious bullshit they have planned. I’ve already got all the guys, and even Daehyun keyed in on the whole situation.”

You don’t even have to ask who ‘the guys’ are. Once Jungkook came into your life, so, too, came six other alphas that are closer to Jungkook than even his beta older brother, Junghyun. You’re less familiar with Lee Daehyun, Jimin’s personal trainer, but still are aware of who he is. He was the beta you bumped into the night of your designation celebration when you were on the prowl to locate what you eventually figured out was the scent of your mate—Jungkook.

“With that many eyes, surely they won’t try anything,” you lament, but even you can’t convince yourself.

Jungkook yawns; you can hear the inhalation and heavy exhalation. “I can only hope they’re not that stupid, but it wouldn’t be the first time Demetrius has tried to pull a stunt to get ahead.”

The whole situation still stinks of foolery. You tell Jungkook as much, “I still don’t like it. Is Jimin okay with what happens when he wins? Or what if they do try something, but by the time we realize it, it’s too late? What happens if…what if Jimin—” You can’t even bring yourself to say it out loud. Either way, Jimin is going to have an irreparable dark spot on his tender soul; you just know it, he’s far too sweet of a guy for this shit.

Everyone knows what happens to an alpha that is forced to submit to another alpha—they break. It’s happened only a handful of times outside of duels, primarily by accident and when there is a lot of liquor and anger involved. One alpha pisses off another, and the stronger of the two forces the other to submit, using the voice designated explicitly for their mate. It does something to an alpha; it causes their internal wires to cross, and they become a shell of who they once were. And the alpha that did the breaking? Well, they’re never quite the same, either.

Jungkook is so quiet that you begin to think he might have hung up on you, but eventually, he states, “Jimin will always be my brother, no matter what happens.”

That’s how the conversation ends. Jungkook offers a brief goodbye, saying he needs to get some sleep before he actually passes out on you, and assures you he’ll be waiting for you when you arrive in the morning.

You sit on the patio for a while longer, watching as the sun slowly sinks below the horizon, the phone still clutched in your hand. Shortly after Jungkook hung up, Junghyun texted to confirm what time to meet him in the garage.

Yet, you can’t bring yourself to head inside just yet. It’s not until the fireflies are winking through the balmy air and the moon is full and heavy overhead that you make your way inside and succumb to your own emotional exhaustion.

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to story masterlist

380 notes · View notes