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colormepurplex2 · 6 months ago

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The Sirens' Song | Into The Deep

↳ Namjoon x Jimin x f.Reader ⤜ Strangers to Lovers, Merfolk/Sirens, Myth/Legend, Fantasy AU ⤜ Rating: MA🔞 ⤜ WC: 7,688 ⚠️Melancholy thoughts, crass language, shipwreck, mild fear, mentions of death, grief

Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon) ◅ Back to story masterlist

In the moon’s glow, where darkness plays, The ocean breathes in rhythmic ways. Against obsidian rocks that are jagged and proud, The tempest whispers secrets, fierce yet loud. Each wave a tale of journeys long gone, Of the briny depth’s roar laced with siren’s song. She foams and crashes, wild and free, A dance of power like a haunting symphony. The salt-kissed air filled with misty spray, Birthing endless nights that will never give way. Watch her still, the tide, relentless; she seeks To carve the stone with her lashing peaks. From rocky cliffs, the sirens wail, Their haunting voices spin a tale. Of sailors lost in the tempest's grip, Drawn to the edge, where they are oft to slip. In Black Rock Bay, the legends doth swell, Of gold and gems that decorate a haunting hell. As storm clouds gather and shadows creep, The restless spirits never sleep. For in this bay where echoes cling, The tempest rages, and the sirens sing.

The song continues, the bard sitting by the fire supporting the mournful words with the harp settled across his lap. His gnarled fingers surprisingly spry on the delicate strings. The dower tune does nothing to bolster your dreary mood. Not even the tankard of sour ale clasped between your palms seems to be working. If anything, the song only proves to darken your heart further.

You’ve heard stories about Black Rock Bay, with the treacherous breaker waves constantly lashing at the jutting obsidian spires that are said to hide untold treasures if one can make it through the squall and ripping current. That is, if you don’t get swindled away into the black abyss enthralled by a siren’s song first.

Just last summer, Miguel, the man you had been sharing your bed with, stole away in the middle of the night with your ship and crew with a course chartered to Black Rock Bay. Fool’s you, you suppose, for letting a man get that close to you. It’s hard enough being a woman, harder still being a woman who is also the captain of a ship. It took you almost a decade to earn your sails and the loyalty of your crew—or so you thought, bunch of mutinous fish guts, the lot of them.

You hope Miguel is somewhere at the bottom of the bay, the sirens using his bones to pick their teeth. The last year has been challenging, trying to rebuild what you once had. But you have enough salt in your veins that it would take more than a stab in the back to see you give up. The hardest part has been gathering a new crew. As it is now, you have the bare minimum of bodies needed to man your new ship. And you’re not sure a few wouldn’t do the same as Miguel did for the right price.

After all, being a pirate comes with its fair share of dangers.

But…maybe… It sits like a lead weight in your belly, the idea of conquering Black Rock Bay out of spite. No one would ever dare to laugh or betray you then, no daggers in your back or sweet smiles slithering their way into your bed only to strike with venom while you’re least expecting it. You’d be a legend. There would be many songs written, stories told far and wide...

“‘Ey, Cap, we off with the sun?” The spritely voice of your best friend, and the only crew member who didn’t take off with Miguel, pipes up from beside you, breaking through your mental wallowing. She slides her petite frame onto the bench beside you, her elbow jostling yours and causing some of the now-luke-warm ale from your tankard to slosh onto your hand. “Oh, sorry,” she adds with a nervous chuckle. “Let me just…” She snatches a handkerchief that has seen better days from her coat pocket and dabs at your hand and the table.

“Ollie, leave it, it’s fine.”

She gives you a gap-toothed grin, her freckled cheeks coloring as she stuffs her soiled handkerchief back into her pocket. Olivia Ramsey has been your friend since you were both urchins on the street fighting over crusts of moldy bread.

You never knew your parents, only that your mother was a flavor that many were partial to, and she indulged for the right amount of coin. It’s supposed that you were begotten on her by one of those men—a pirate, most likely. Once you were old enough to pilfer your own meals, not quite ten, those proverbial apron strings everyone believes mothers possess were indefinitely sheered off at the source. All your memories of her are vague, a hazy figure shooing you away from a darkened doorway...a woman too busy earning her next coin to worry about the ill-gotten welp that she saw as more of a curse than a blessing.

Ollie came from a loving home. Or as loving as an ill-favored family can be. Her father had a gambling problem, and her mother had the spine of a jellyfish. When she was seven, she ended up being the payment of a gambling debt. Servitude to an upper household was her fate. At some point or another—the details are muddled to you as Ollie changes the story just about as many times as she’s told it—she escaped and tried to make her way back to her parents, only to find the house empty when she returned.

It wasn’t long after the two of you became struggling companions that you noticed she sometimes sought answers about her family. You followed her once when she slipped off in the middle of the night, right to the door of a gentlemen’s club. That’s when she discovered she could pass in men’s spaces, thought to be a boy sneaking about. The men would laugh at ‘him’ and be none the wiser to their spilled secrets being consumed by feminine ears.

You look her over now, automatically taking account of her constitution. Curls of her straw-colored hair peek out from under the knit cap pulled low on her head. It’s part of her ploy, continuing to dupe men and cleverly blend in in places where you would be turned away at the door.

“If we leave wi’the sun, there’s a chance we beat Fat Al through the breakers and can hit the reef first.”

You sigh, giving your friend a sidelong look before pushing away your ale and angling your body toward hers. As nice as it would be to put that sniveling pock-marked arse of a wannabe pirate Fat Al in his place…a new plan is formulating in your mind. Slumping slightly, you drape an arm over her shoulders and put your mouth close to her ear.

“I say we let Fat Al have the reef.” Your eyes flick to the bard still crooning about briny ocean air and hauntingly beautiful creatures harboring chests of riches. “There is another place I have set my sights on…”

🌊🌊🌊

Jimin

There is a storm brewing. Jimin can feel it in how the temperature changes in the currents. He’s long since grown used to the drastic changes when the cooler waters from deeper in the ocean surge up into the warmer surface waters. After all, his home has always been this bay, where storms often rage in the skies overhead.

What he isn’t used to is seeing the giant belly of a boat slicing through the water of his bay. More often, the boats that attempt to come to the island of Black Rock Bay come in on the eastern side of the isle where the shore looks smoother and more welcoming—though it is anything but, with its hidden reefs and jagged lava rock just below the surface of the ocean.

“What do you think?” Namjoon’s voice so close startles Jimin out of his vigilant assessment.

“Storms coming on too strong. The ship won’t make it into the bay before the breakers gain height. Most likely, it’ll end up in pieces scattered along the shore,” Jimin murmurs, the frilled gills along the sides of his neck opening and closing, emitting small streamers of bubbles with his words.

“Should we send out the runners and try to steer them clear?”

Jimin thinks on this for a second before shaking his head. “They won’t make it here in time, perhaps if we had asked them before the sun went down just in case this happened. Yoongi would do his best, but…no, my love, we just have to wait and see what grace Calypso may grant these poor souls.”

He knows that even if Yoongi could coax a few of the larger whales to the surface, they’d barely make a difference in causing the boat to change course. As it is, it would be unlikely for whoever’s manning the ship to even see the whales, considering how dark the sky is and how violent the sea is becoming. They’re more likely to accidentally clip one of the gentle beasts than see them.

Namjoon nods, implicitly accepting Jimin’s judgement without question. “We best go deeper; I can already feel the tug of the tide. You’ll be swept away if you linger this close to the surface.”

It’s just as Jimin expects. The sea is angry, thrashing heavy squalls against the shore. Gusts of wind rip through the air, with piercing screams to rival the ocean's own shrill cries. Even from this far down, Jimin can hear the cacophony causing the wood of the boat to groan and creak.

Namjoon’s arms tighten around Jimin. They both watch in horror as the wide berth of the ship rocks violently, getting tossed around like a child’s toy by the turmoil of the sea. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Namjoon murmurs in Jimin’s ear, the bubbles from his words getting lost in the swift currents moving around them.

They’re both watching from the relative safety of one of the many underwater passageways that zig-zag through the underbelly of the island of Black Rock Bay. Small windows look out into the open water, doubling as entrances to the tunnel systems.

It’s like watching a painting come to life, the edges of the window acting as the frame. The boat daring to chart through the bay must be manned by a demi-god, as they continue to battle and persist against the storm.

Jimin is in awe at the display of sheer will. Despite being tossed around with every crashing wave against its bulwark, it careens ever closer to the jagged rocks along the shore, but somehow, the boat rights itself every time and manages to dodge the deathly peaks.

“Whoever they are…if they can navigate through this storm without breaking their ship on the rocks, I’ll personally give them enough gold to fill their hold,” Jimin tells Namjoon as his eyes stay locked on the vessel overhead.

The rough stone lip of the window makes his fingers ache as he clenches them around it every time the ship comes close to one of the outcroppings of old lava rock hidden by the foaming, swirling sea.

“You think they’ll make it?”

Just as Jimin opens his mouth to respond to Namjoon, the first reverberating impact thunders through the bay. Just as the boat started to swing one way, the raucous waves sent it into a near tail-spin without enough time for correction.

Wood splinters, the ocean roaring its victory as it floods into the bilge of the ship, filling it with far more water than it could hold. Jimin sighs, his chest aching from knowing that this was the inevitable end. Even though he had spoken the truth, maybe this fate might have been avoided if he had kept his mouth shut.

Or better yet, maybe if he had agreed to let Yoongi call for the runners, the souls lost above wouldn’t have been swept away by the ravaging sea. Even a tiny chance would have been better than watching this catastrophe; no matter how fruitful the spoils might be from the wreckage. But it’s too late now.

The boat's keel ruptures as it runs along one of the bigger jagged points of bedrock, like a sharp knife through kelp. With that surrender of wood to rock, Jimin knows there is no hope for the ship; it’s been ripped open from stern to bow. They can only watch…wait, and maybe catch an unfortunate soul or two and try to help.

Just as the thought passes Jimin’s mind, Namjoon gasps. He thrusts a hand out over Jimin’s shoulder. “Do you see that?”

Jimin shakes his head, eyes frantically searching the dark, murky waters. Suddenly, he sees them, a flailing figure struggling through one of the rip currents. Jimin doesn’t think twice, using his grip on the window's ledge to propel himself forward. Namjoon is a second behind him, his powerful pearlescent tail hurtling him past Jimin.

“Go!” Jimin urges when Namjoon glances back at him. He can see the hesitation in Namjoon’s eyes, uncomfortable with the idea of leaving Jimin behind with the waters so turbulent. “Don’t worry about me!”

Namjoon gives him a resolute nod before renewing his efforts upward. Jimin watches, his own tail and muscles straining as he fights the currents, as Namjoon dodges through the debris field where they last saw the figure in the water.

For one harrowing second, Jimin loses sight of Namjoon around a large piece of ship wreckage. A relieved cry catches in Jimin’s throat as Namjoon reappears, his arms cradling a much smaller being.

“A woman,” Namjoon grunts when Jimin reaches him. “I didn’t see any others.”

Jimin uses his arms to push himself backward, trailing slowly after Namjoon, who doubles his efforts to drag the limp woman toward the opening to one of their open-air caves. It’s a short swim, but all the same, Jimin worries for the woman. There is no telling how long she’s been under or when the last time she had a breath of air was.

Worry eats away at the pit of Jimin’s stomach as he watches large swaths of sail and immense sheets of timber sink to litter the bottom of the bay. Something tells him if anyone else was aboard that ship, they’re lost to the sea. With one final sweep of his eyes over the wreckage, he turns and slips into the tunnel, following after Namjoon and the woman he is carrying in his arms with the hope they will be able to help her.

🌊🌊🌊

Chills seep into your body, burrowing all the way down to your bones. Everything aches. You feel like you just went on a two-week bender and fell into the ocean. Your clothes are sodden, and you feel the violent urge to sick up…maybe you had gone on a bender…

The urge becomes too much, and you heave onto your side, emptying briny water and bile from your belly. It burns on the way out, clogging your nose and making your eyes water as you retch onto the sand.

Clarity begins to ebb in, and the fact you’re lying in the sand with the moon and stars twinkling from above makes no sense because the last thing you remember is��Fuck!

You fling yourself up onto your backside, stirring a shower of wet sand into the air, and you have to clamp a hand over your mouth, the sudden movement of sitting up threatening to have you heaving once more.

Swallowing the bile bubbling up, you cough before shouting, “Ollie?!” Your voice is hoarse, the ocean water having stripped your throat raw. “Please, Ollie?!”

The sand shifts beneath your unsteady feet as you struggle to stand. You tilt wildly to the side, your balance off and everything around you showing double. Finally, the shore stops spinning, and you can take in everything around you.

Fat and heavy overhead, the moon illuminates stray bits of what you can only assume is your ship dotting the sand—about thirty feet from the shoreline, a thick jungle stretches in either direction as far as you can see. You wouldn’t have guessed the sky was full of turmoil just…hours ago? Well, you assume it’s only been hours, at least; it’s hard to be sure, but judging by the moon's position, you think you’re right.

You know you should have turned around as soon as the first streak of lightning lit up the horizon. But, with Ollie reassuring you, along with the bolstered attitude from the rest of the crew, you pressed forward, hands tight to the wheel as you steered the bow toward the distant shoreline.

It was with the intent of anchoring just outside the breaker point of the bay, where the reef and lava rock can be seen jutting from the waters. However, the winds were too strong, and the storm tossed the boat about and put you completely off course, right into the path of the old slag tunnels.

You remember how the ship shuddered, the piercing squeal of wood and iron giving in to the relentless power of the rock. Ollie’s alarmed face was the last thing you remember seeing before the whole boat rocked hard to the side, and you were ripped from the helm by the force and sent tumbling into the dark waters of the bay.

Suddenly, you hear voices coming from ahead of you—from the jungle. You stop and listen, holding your breath before exhaling in a rush. “Ollie!” you call, scrambling toward the tree line. “Ollie! Jameson! Red! Anyone?”

Darkness swallows you as you stumble ahead, arms wheeling to keep yourself upright. You shove against trees, using their rough, wet trunks for support as you propel yourself through the underbrush.

“Captain.”

The word shivers down your spine, seeming to come from all directions. You spin in a circle, wet greenery whipping you in the face. The deep emerald greens and rich browns of the jungle are barely perceptible, with the meager moonlight filtering through the dense overhead canopy.

“Ollie!” you scream, the name echoing around you ten-fold. “Where are you? Ollie, can you hear me!?”

“Captain of the shining sea.”

“Looking here, looking there; come to find me.”

“Ollie, this isn’t funny,” you croak. The silence that follows is deafening. Not even insect noise or the hum of wildlife greets you. “Please.” The word falls in a whisper from your trembling lips.

“Captain, Captain of the shining sea. Looking here, looking there; come to find me.”

The words repeat, only this time there is a distinct lilting quality that makes your blood run cold. Ollie isn’t a singer. More so, the entire crew would rather shove nails under their fingernails than belt any sea shanty.

Only one thing comes to mind: a singular possibility as to who—what—it could be.

Sirens. Luring you to your death, enticing the next meal that will fill their bellies.

Foolish, so foolish. And you want legendary songs written about you. You scoff to yourself. The only songs they’ll be writing about you will be the tragic or humorous kind. Everyone will have a good laugh after they toast your memory. No wonder everyone thinks women are bad luck aboard pirate ships. Here you are proving them right.

Turning on your toes, you do your best to hurry back the way you came. Only it’s impossible to tell which way is which in the dark. Everything looks the same. The words continue to haunt you, nipping at your heels no matter how far you manage to go.

“Captain, Captain of the shining sea…”

“Stop! Stop it! Leave me—”

The rest of your plea turns into a shriek as you hurtle down a steep incline. Pain races through your limbs as they smack into trees and bushes, your descent an uncontrollable plummet.

The ground rises to meet you, the stark reality of your situation flashing before your eyes right before your head meets the unforgiving surface of a rock, and everything goes black.

🌊🌊🌊

Namjoon

“Where did she go? She was right here! You said you’d look after her while I got the stew going.”

Jimin scowls at Namjoon, gesturing to the space where the human woman was just moments ago.

“Simmer down. I’ll go look for her. She can’t have gone far.” In fact, Namjoon is relatively sure he knows exactly where she went.

“No harm better come to her, Namjoon. I mean it!” Jimin’s sour attitude follows Namjoon as he shuffles out into the jungle. It would be better if the sun were out, but as it is, his vision is only mildly impacted by the dark of night. If he were able to assume his mer-form, he’d have no issues at all. Being on two legs only serves as a minor hindrance, mainly in things like hearing and sight.

It’s not like Namjoon intended for the female to wake up and immediately seek to escape. Granted, Namjoon’s knowledge of human females is nearly as limited as Jimin’s, but he at least thought she might wait around to listen to him. He had only stepped away for a second, seeking to put on some acceptable clothing and then bring her some fresh water to drink so it might help clear her head.

“Oh,” Namjoon startles. “What do we have here?” He crouches down next to the crumpled form of a woman. The clothing is similar enough, but the woman is not the same one he rescued from the wreckage.

“Namjoon!” a familiar voice calls a moment before the sound of crunching leaves and soft grunts enters the small clearing at the foot of the incline leading into the heart of the jungle.

“Hoseok? What are you—oh, you found her.”

“Put me down, ya fish-eyed freak! Put me…fuck! Captain, oh seven seas, Captain! Put me down, for salt's sake!”

The small woman Namjoon rescued from the wreckage tumbles from Hoseok’s arms. She scrambles forward on her hands and knees to kneel beside the prone woman at Namjoon’s feet.

“You shouldn’t have wandered off,” Namjoon begins, only to be cut off by the murderous glare thrown up at him.

“What did ya do to ‘er?! I swear to the goddess below, if ya so much as put your slimy hands on ‘er, I’ll gut ya like the fish ya are!”

Namjoon backs away, his very not slimy hands in the air before him. “I only just found her. She was already like that.”

Hoseok shuffles his feet, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It was probably the others. I heard them singing earlier. I was coming to get you when I stumbled upon this one,” he says, gesturing with his other hand at the small woman with freckled cheeks and short blond curls, “trying to climb the cliffs. Nearly went over back into the ocean.”

“You have to help ‘er,” the blond woman says, all the fiery ire gone from her voice. She gently brushes sand from the other woman’s cheeks and hair, her fingers coming away sticky with blood. “Please.”

Namjoon had no intention of not helping the woman from the start. But, to placate the small one, he nods his agreement. “I will do what I can. But I need to pick her up.”

The blond one gives him a lingering look, clearly judging his merit, before sliding back on her knees to provide Namjoon with the space he needs to kneel beside the prone woman.

“Be careful wi’ ‘er head.”

Namjoon’s lips purse into a frown, his brain trying desperately to place the woman’s accent. It’s a mixed jumble, consisting of influence seemingly from multiple places. When the woman waves a frantic hand in Namjoon’s face, he blinks, startling back to the task at hand. There will be plenty of time later to figure out where the humans have come from.

Doing just as instructed, with careful ease, Namjoon takes the unconscious woman into his arms, letting her head rest against his naked chest. The linen trousers he pulled on earlier only come to mid-calf, his feet bare of the shoes he knows humans are partial to. The short pants were the only thing he found in Jimin’s chest of human treasures that remotely fit. It’s been so long since either of them had the company of someone other than their own kind that it hadn’t dawned on Namjoon that greeting the young woman in nothing but his skin wouldn’t be proper.

“Hoseok,” Namjoon says, dismissing his inner thoughts about human propriety surrounding clothing, and nods toward the opening to the cave system where Jimin should be waiting.

Hoseok, who is one of Namjoon’s closest friends, trails his eyes over the blond woman before offering her his hand. “Would you like to come with her?”

With no outward hesitation other than the slight narrowing of her eyes, the small woman slides her hand into Hoseok’s, and he hauls her to her feet. “I’m Ollie, by the way,” she says, her shorter legs keeping pace with Hoseok’s with little issue. “And, you’re Hoseok?” Namjoon has never seen his friend nervous, but right now, he’s pretty confident that’s exactly the emotion coloring his friend’s cheeks. Hoseok nods. “Well, I have a lot o’ questions, Hoseok. Maybe ya can answer some as we walk.”

🌊🌊🌊

You’ve had your fair share of blackouts in your life. What with how sour ale can fill your belly and the enticing bet to drink someone under the table…you’d be remiss in saying you’ve never awoken a time or two in a strange place with only a small inkling of how you ended up there.

However, doing it twice in a row is something new. Your head aches. Differently than it had before when you awoke on the beach. This is a skull-deep pounding, something that only comes when you catch an errant fist in a fight or take a sail boom to the back of the head.

You want to empty your stomach for a whole different reason now. The sickly feeling swirls in your belly, your eyes fluttering open as you dry retch. “Fuck,” you whisper coarsely.

“Captain!”

The relief at hearing Ollie’s voice is second to the splitting pain that ricochets through your head at her volume. “Softer, Ollie.”

“Oh, right.” Her freckled cheeks plump around the sheepish smile she gives you. “Sorry ‘bout that, Cap. I’m jus’ so happy to see ya awake. Ya plum near ended my days, seein’ ya layin’ there on the ground wi’ your head split open like a melon.”

You tenderly probe at the lump forming over your right temple. It’s warm to the touch, the flesh swollen and aching. You can feel the rough humps of stitching crisscrossing over the edge of the lump. You wince as your fingers map across the seven sutures. “I must look a sight. Did you stitch me up?”

“Beautiful as always, Cap. Would take a wonder stronger than’a rock to change that. And I wish I could take credit for ‘at beautiful jab job, but it wasn’t me.”

Gods love this woman; she’s a treasure you don’t deserve. Your eyes focus enough that you can take her in wholly. She sports her own discolored lump on the side of her jaw, and dark circles rim the soft skin under her eyes. There is a split at the corner of her mouth, and her right arm, you realize, is secured in a burlap sling. You’re so overwhelmed with taking her in that you don’t even register that she said she wasn’t the one to stitch you up. “Oh, Ollie,” you whisper softly. “What did I do to you?”

She jerks upright, indignation written all over her face. “This wasn’t you, Cap. This was that surly sea we love so much. Ain’t nothin’ I’ve never had before.” It’s clear she believes that wholeheartedly with the stern look in her eyes. “Besides, ya ought not worry about me. How’s yar head?”

You sit up slowly, your vision narrowing slightly as your world rights itself. Blinking, you let your eyes slide over your surroundings, taking an account of what’s around you. A soft mat and scattered blankets create a nest of comfort under you.

The walls are smooth stone with tiny carved-out nitches that form shelves holding a mix of books, shells, and other small trinkets. There is a homey feel to the sea cave, with a few chests and other odd bits of furniture lining the walls. You’d almost think you were in a bizarrely themed boarding room if it weren’t for the giant opening in the floor some feet away, the soft lap of water nibbling at the hole's edge.

Lichen sticks to the ceiling, its soft blue and green glow giving enough light that your eyes aren’t straining as you continue your perusal. Aside from the large hole in the floor, a narrow doorway leads into darkness on the other side of the room.

“Where are we?” you ask, choosing to focus on finding answers of your own rather than the incessant pounding of your skull.

Ollie rocks back on her heels, wrapping her good arm around her knees. You notice she’s not wearing the same clothes she wore the last time you saw her on the boat. Ugh, the boat…you don’t even want to think about that right now. The faded green tunic and sandy-colored breeches dwarf her tiny frame, the neck of the top hanging off one of her shoulders. You glance down and see her petite toes, her shoes nowhere to be seen.

She wiggles her toes, giggling softly. “Hoseok says bare feet’re better for walkin’ the tunnels. Less likely to slip and split my own noggin’.” She emphasizes the words with a rap of her knuckles against the side of her blond curl-covered head.

“Hoseok?” you ask, your attention catching on that name. It’s familiar, almost like you heard it in a dream, but far too fuzzy for you to be sure.

“Oh, he’s—”

“He’s right here,” chirps a jovial, masculine voice from the passageway across the room. “Nice to see you awake. Think you could stomach some stew? Would do you well to get something in your body.”

Your eyes grow as wide as saucers at the nearly naked man shuffling into the cavernous space. In his hands is a wide wooden board covered in what looks like chunks of bread, sliced fruit, and a bowl of steaming stew. The smell of the luscious, smoky broth hits your nose as he draws closer, and your stomach gives an appreciative gurgle.

“I promise the food is safe ta’ eat,” Ollie whispers, slanting a hand against her mouth in your direction. “It’s smoked fish stew. I had some earlier and even asked after seconds.”

That captures your attention, your eyes swinging in her direction, an incredulous look overtaking your face. “Ollie—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Rule number one: don’t accept food from blokes ya don’t know. But, Cap, I was starvin’, and I knew ya’d be in need of some food when ya woke. So, really, I did it for ya, had to make sure they wasn’t tryin’ to poison ya.”

You take a moment to assess Ollie’s countenance, realizing that aside from the visible bruises from her toss into the ocean, she seems no worse for wear. Her pallor is rosey, a healthy flush beneath her freckles, and her eyes are bright and clear.

“Just some water,” you say, your gaze flicking towards this Hoseok character.

“But, Cap—”

“For now, Ol. Just to be sure my stomach doesn’t sick up from anything more hearty.”

You hate lying to her. Even though she seems to be of her right mind, she almost seems too eager…too trusting. Which is so far removed from the Olivia Ramsey you know, the one who would turn her nose up in suspicion at even the slightest hint of stink. And this has the ripe stench of three-day-old chum all over it.

“Water then.” Hoseok nods, though his lips kick down in a frown as he sets the tray laden with food beside the tangle of blankets and pillows you woke up on.

“Thank you,” you mutter as Ollie hands you a ceramic cup from the tray. The contents look clear enough and holds no distinct odor as you give it a tentative sniff before putting it to your lips.

The water is crisp and surprisingly cool, tasting faintly earthy like it came directly from a rocky stream. You gulp it down, your aching and raw throat rejoicing with the soothing relief.

Hoseok squats down beside Ollie, your eyes tracking his every movement. His pants are thin, the worn fabric hanging loosely from his frame. It’s clear they’re not new, perhaps aged even further from the constant wear from the briny ocean air. His chest is bare, emphasizing a slender frame with smooth, corded muscles. His trousers might be worse for wear, but his eyes are a clear, beautiful brown, complimenting the shag of black hair on his head…though, there is something off-putting about him…something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“I hope those stitches are okay. I tried not to tie them off too tightly, but it has been quite some time since I last performed such a task.”

Your lips twitch, brows furrowing ever so slightly. In all your years, you’ve had your fair share of stitches with everything from catgut wire to medical-grade thread. With just the brief inspection you gave your sutures, you can tell they’re on the better side. You’d maybe even go so far as to say they’re on par with a medical professional. Perhaps this Hoseok character is a sea-lost doctor washed up on shore once upon a time, the same as you and Ollie. “What is this place?” you ask him, your fingers flexing around the empty cup clasped in your hands.

“A sea cave—”

“No. I mean, what is this whole place? Where are we, exactly?” Your eyes flick away from him, darting across the walls as if you tried hard enough that you could see through the dark stone and figure it out yourself.

“I believe your kind calls this place Black Rock Bay. Though, that’s truly a misnomer, considering the rocks in the bay are more of a dark blue than black, but I can see how one might make that mistake.”

You blink at him, the cogs in your mind trying desperately to lock the details into place. Two things stand out above all the others—your kind and Black Rock Bay. So, clearly not a medical professional, and, wait—

“We truly made it?” you whisper, your lips suddenly feeling numb and your tongue thick like molasses.

“Just you n’me.” Ollie’s voice slices through the silence, landing you harshly back into the very stark reality of what happened. Your eyes meet hers for a brief moment, and she winces, an apology already forming on her cracked lips.

You shake your head, addressing her before she can take back her words. “There were no other survivors?”

The question was addressed to Hoseok, but another voice answers you. “None that we’ve found thus far, but we are still searching the shore and the wreckage.”

You’re better than the sound that rips from your throat. Maybe if you hadn’t taken a knock to the head, you’d have been able to hold your ground and have suppressed the surprise. As it is, the unintelligible squawk you emit echoes around the cavernous chamber as your eyes widen on the figure emerging from the lagoon pool on the other side of the room.

Pearlescent scales ripple along strong arms as hands brace against the lip of the lagoon. The shimmery teardrop shapes spread over an impeccably defined chest, blending into the creamy skin of a toned stomach and narrow hips before ending at the ridged blue and green band of a…tail? The long, flowing appendage slides over the stone as the figure pushes themselves completely out of the lagoon opening.

Water slicks off of them, the soft sloshing sending a gentle spray of misted salt water into the air. You watch in abject shock as the scales slowly recede with every drop of moisture that wicks away as the newcomer quickly brushes a length of fabric they grabbed from a nearby shelf over their body.

You want to reach out and finger the wet lengths of hair that swing with their every movement, like scattered moonlight on ocean waves. You’ve never seen hair quite so bright; it’s even lighter than the wheat-colored curls adorning Ollie’s head.

It’s a mesmerizing sight, watching the way the glittering scales disappear, melting away to reveal smooth and supple skin as if they never existed. Slender legs take shape; flexing toes and taut muscles speak of a delicate grace you’d never have associated with the male form before. And male it is…the very breath in your lungs stills as your eyes catch on the faint outline of a very prominent appendage before it’s covered by the now-damp cloth as he wraps it around his waist.

Brilliant mocha-colored eyes meet yours, the center of a controlled, measured look that gives absolutely nothing away. “Easy, Cap,” Ollie whispers a moment before you feel her hand grazing along your jaw.

You firmly snap your gaping mouth shut.

“I wish I had better news to share with you. But I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that the storm you attempted to sail through was not a kind one. You’re fortunate to be alive, the both of you.”

“Holy Shining Seas,” Ollie mumbles, her fingers crossing over her chest in a sign meant to ward off evil. It’s an automatic gesture, one she does without thought, ingrained in her from a young age; well before she met the fates of the streets.

Your fingers itch to make their own sign. The few weeks you spent with Sister Agatha in the convent are ones sorely hard to forget, even at the best of times. You’ve never been religious, far from it. But those two weeks made you feel closer to hell than the deepest trench of the ocean ever could.

Clenching your fingers closed in the quilt beneath you, your mouth pops open instead. “Y-you…wait, you—is that? Was that—you, uh, your—your skin,” the last word comes out barely louder than a whisper.

Hoseok stands and crosses the room, snagging a pair of trousers from an open chest. He tosses them at the newcomer, firmly scolding him, “You know better than to skin shift in front of humans. Why didn’t you come in through the central lagoon?”

At that moment another voice filters through the room, coming from the same direction Hoseok had entered through. Your eyes flick away from the first unknown male to the empty doorway, a second before a tall, silver-haired man wearing pants far too short for him, and nothing else appears. In his hands is a worn red cap.

“I told Jimin it was a bad idea. But, you know how he is, a will stronger than the southern currents.”

The stranger with the calculating gaze—Jimin, it seems—rolls his eyes and huffs out an annoyed breath. “Would rather rip it out like an urchin barb, Namjoon, get it over with. Better that way in the long of it, considering our visitors will be here for quite some time.”

Namjoon. Jimin. Hoseok. Your eyes flick between the three strangers, noting the same sense you got from Hoseok earlier also radiates from the other two. As you watch them exchange heated words, the low timbre of their voices making their words hard to discern, Jimin tugs on the trousers Hoseok threw at him, and you realize what that odd feeling is. They’re…perfect. Too perfect, otherworldly.

It’s unnerving.

And now you’re sure you know why. As plain as the pearlescent scales and tail, the truth screams at you from the smooth skin of their foreheads to the perfectly straight, white teeth behind their rose-hued lips. No mere human could be so pristine. Clearly, the bewitching nature of a siren isn’t just exaggerated prose reserved for their voices.

“Is that Red’s cap?” Ollie asks, her voice low, meant only for your ears.

You force your eyes away from studying their faces to the crumpled lump clasped in Namjoon’s hands. It’s a detail your brain registered earlier but clearly was too muddled to fully comprehend.

“Where did you find that?” you ask, but you are only met with silence in response. The three males are still caught up in their soft bickering. You give Ollie a sidelong look, your face pinched in a frown before demanding louder, “Excuse me!”

Your barked words echo through the chamber, rebounding ten-fold and making even you wince at the sharp, biting sound.

“Where did you find that?” Ollie’s voice fills the sudden silence as she nods her head at the red cap in Namjoon’s grip.

Namjoon loosens his hold on the worn red fabric, the once vibrant carmine faded by the salt and sun to a tawny vermilion. An unmistakable blob of golden thread peeks out from one of the edges where Jory ‘Red’ Meander had haphazardly tried to stitch together a hole put there by a disgruntled card companion.

He had a penchant for gambling, not always with honest intentions, either. A scoundrel with a quick smile and charming hazel eyes. Despite being barely old enough to be let loose from his mother’s skirts, Jory joined your crew mere weeks before you got it in your head to chart a course for Black Rock Bay, demanding with a puffed-out chest that everyone refer to him as ‘Red’, like the color of his hat and the blood spilled at the end of his rapier, from here on out. Said it was a better-suited name for a future pirate mogul than Jory.

A few nights into your journey towards Black Roy Back, as you sat with Red in the crow’s nest watching the moon slip through the sky, he confessed that he actually chose the name Red because it reminded him of his mother with her fiery red hair and spit-fire attitude. But he figured that wouldn’t be a very pirate-like reason. He honestly had no business on your ship…but you were desperate for a full crew and, well—

“I-uh, I found it on the beach…I followed your footsteps back through the jungle.” Namjoon clears his throat before stepping close and offering the cap to you. “There was a man…a boy, really. His body—I’m sorry.”

You hesitantly take the hat. The soft fabric flops over the back of your hand, and a memory flashes through your mind. Red screaming at you, the stupid hat he refused to ever take off, sluicing the stinging water into his eyes, hauling you bodily through the turbulent water. Red forcing you above water, pleading with you to hold on…

Tears fill your eyes, but you don’t let them fall. Anger replaces the hurt pounding away in your chest. You will not fall apart now…not when…fuck. You furiously wipe at your eyes, sniffing back the burn welling in your nose. Red would laugh and waggle his brows at you if he knew you were getting choked up over him.

“Have you found others? Bodies, I mean.”

Jimin and Namjoon share a look, an exchange of words without making a sound.

Red. Jameson. McLaughlin. Straub. Okiro.

From the descriptions provided to you by Namjoon and Jimin, you mentally etch their names into your psyche. Men whose loyalty you once questioned are now forever lost to this world because of your petty grievances and selfish desires. And more yet to be confirmed…

You worry the edge of your thumbnail, fisting the red cap in your other hand over and over.

“Maybe ya should eat somethin’, Cap.”

You can’t bring yourself to look at Ollie right now, lest you might not be able to fight back the tears any longer. “I’m fine, Ol.”

“Some rest then,” Jimin says. “Hoseok, if you take Olivia to the storage room, you might be able to find her something a bit more fitting to wear in the alder chest, the one with the iron straps. You know which I mean?”

Hoseok makes an agreeable sound. You snap out of your stupor enough to realize Ollie stands up without so much as a mutterance of protest. In fact, she almost seemed eager as she took Hoseok’s hand, and he pulled her to her feet. There is a look on her face that you’ve never seen there before…it almost looks like longing. But that can’t be because that’s absolutely absurd. However, there she goes, giving you a girlish wave and mumbling, “Later, Cap. Get some rest, ‘k?”, as she allows Hoseok to lead her from the room.

“Wait, Ol—”

But just like that, Ollie walks out without so much as a backward glance before you can get the protest out of your mouth, her focus now solely on the male at her side. She has that same silly, infatuated look on her face.

And now you’re alone—alone with two strange males who are looking at you like you’re the most interesting thing they’ve ever come across. Perhaps you are…but most likely, they’re trying to come up with the best way to pick your bones clean.

You can feel the heat drain from your face, receding from the tips of your fingers and toes, turning into a wash of icy chills down your spine. You’ve heard enough songs about this…you know what happens next, yet you can’t get your body to do what you want it to. All you can do is stare, your eyes moving between the two males, your fingers holding a death grip on Red’s cap.

“Hungry?” Jimin asks, his eyes flicking to Namjoon.

Something is wrong…something is very wrong.

The taller male tilts his head to the side, eyes sliding up and down your seated form. “Yeah, Jimin, I’m hungry.”

You swallow hard, trying not to let the sudden wave of fear curdling in your belly show. Maybe Red should have just let the sea take you…

Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon) ◅ Back to story masterlist

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-12-31 ColorMePurplex2

#bts fantasy #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x jimin #minimoni #bts sirens #pirate!reader #siren!namjoon #siren!jimin #namjoon smut #jimin smut #namjoon imagines #jimin imagines #bangtanwhq

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colormepurplex2 · 6 months ago

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The Sirens' Song | KNJ PJM

▻ The Sirens' Song ↳ Namjoon x Jimin x f.Reader ⤜ Merfolk/Sirens, Myth/Legend, Fantasy AU ⤜ Strangers to Lovers | angst, fluff, eventual smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: ~7,688 (total TBD) ⤜ Summary: All you wanted was fame, glory, and the freedom of the open ocean. But the beautiful blue goddess is an unforgiving mistress, ripping your ship to splinters and swallowing you down her icy gullet before spitting you onto an unfamiliar sandy shore, not another soul in sight. However, maybe you’re not as alone as you think when you hear the first notes of a haunting song echoing through the salty air. ⚠️Melancholy thoughts, crass language, shipwreck, mild fear, mentions of death, grief, eventual smut, more to come! Each chapter will have specific warnings listed.

Chapter 1: Into The Deep

Chapter 2: Salt On Your Skin

Chapter 3: Beyond The Breakers

Story will be complete soon.

A/N: This is written as part of the @bangtanwritershq 2024 4th Quarter Writing Event, Monster Mash!

A/N: Thank you to @hisunshiine @downbad4yoongi @lo1k-diamonds @/sara, and @pars-ley for keeping my sanity intact through the writing process so far with their superb beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-12 ColorMePurplex2

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colormepurplex2 · 7 months ago

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This was not as hard as I thought it was going to be haha. Though there were a few I hesitated on because I do like both 😅 thanks for the tag, @pars-ley !

Tagging: @hisunshiine @downbad4yoongi @glossed-over-lover @lo1k-diamonds @star-my @yoonia

got bored and wanted to do a tag game :p this was super interesting! i feel like these go for what i tend to read and write as well, not just one or the other 🧐

tagging: @junkissed @neo-shitty @beomcoups @hannieween @jalitepng @dreamescapeswriting @agustdiv1ne @redsaurrce + anyone else who wants to do it :)

#tag game #this or that #fanfic tropes

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colormepurplex2 · 7 months ago

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Hey! Just found you and I love your work! As a mom as well, I get busy and understand!

However- I was curious to when another chapter of Fickle Flame was coming out!?

Welcome to my list of favorite writers! <3

Hi! Welcome, so glad to have you here 💜

To be truly honest? I'm not sure. Every time someone asks me about Fickle Flame, I'm reminded how long it's been since I even opened the doc for the next chapter 😅 I've just had so many other stories going on and things in my life (I just moved to the other side of the world) that sometimes I honestly forget the story exists. My goal is to get a new chapter posted before February 2025 (as that will be the 2-year mark since I last updated for it, and I never imagined, when I took a 'small' hiatus from the story, that it would last 2 whole years).

Actually, I'm going to go open the doc right now and keep the tab open so I have a constant reminder. Thank you, truly. I think it just dawned on me as I was responding to this exactly how long it has been, and I feel gutted over it because I do love the story so much, and it deserves better than my neglect 🥹

Happy to be on your list. That makes my heart so full, and even makes me want to be better, to make sure I deserve that spot 💜

#beautiful soul pantaral81 #fic: fickle flame

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colormepurplex2 · 7 months ago

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Heyyy, I'm new to your blog and I really enjoyed reading golden cufflinks. The writing, plot and sotyline was amazing! I noticed there were some things mentioned regarding oc's past relationships and stuff but it wasn't elaborated much, and I would really like to know what she had gone through. Also, the relationship of Hayun and jungkook lasted for more than 5 years and he was in LOVE love with her (even though she wasnt his true mate), so how can just a single day make his feelings for her vanish, I mean, I genuinely want to know what he went through and how he dealt with all that, even though he was okay with the cheating, but still. Isn't 5 years a lot to forgive and forget? Also, I really want to know the major differences in the relationship dynamics between him and hayun, and him and oc! Like is he treating her the same way as he was treating hayun?

I'm sorry if my questions sound stupid! I'm just very interested to know haha.

Hi, Anon!

Welcome! Happy to have you in my little world 💜 These are all absolutely wonderful questions, but admittedly, the answers aren't included in the story because of a few factors, lol! This story was supposed to be just a short >5k drabble, but clearly, that didn't quite work out. However, I did try to make it as short as possible while still staying true to my writing style and needs as a creative. And in that, there are a few things that were incorporated organically into the story but didn't necessarily get their whole spotlight moment—

Some explanations below that contain spoilers!

—such as the comment about past relationships for the FMC and how she felt the keen sting of her own experience with betrayal with Hayun's confession and reluctance to want to tell Jungkook about it.

Because this was a commission piece written specifically for someone, I tried to keep things like this ambiguous enough that they could potentially incorporate their own idea as to what it might mean/what's alluded to happening in the FMC's past. So, I guess, technically, there is no actual experience that I had in mind when writing it. The phrasing just felt organic to the character, and it helped me bridge that emotional gap between the characters. It also gave me an outlet to introduce the possibility of an imperfect relationship between Hayun and JK (since it would inevitably end soon anyway) to soften the blow in a sense?

The situation with Jungkook and Hayun's relationship lasting for so long is a bit more A/B/O-centric, I think. At least, that's how I intended it. That's one of the reasons I love writing A/B/O so much. It's very open, and the lore can be almost anything the writer wants it to be—endless possibilities, truly. So, when I was trying to come up with a clever way to incorporate part of the commission prompt I received: "JK was drawn to the bff because she smelled like FMC for some reason." I knew I needed to focus on scents, but figuring out how Hayun smelled like the FMC without it being weird or simply explained as 'magic', I needed to establish how my lore would be for the true mates and what would happen when someone found theirs. So, essentially, Jungkook's 'hindbrain' or the thing that makes him an Alpha is so viscerally focused on the fact his (real) true mate has been found, that everything else is inconsequential and practically nonexistent. And because there is so little information known about true mates and how their dynamics work, Jungkook was able to fall in love with Hayun and believe she was his true mate because he didn't know any better. The draw he felt to the scent of the FMC in the bracelet Hayun was wearing, to him, was all the indicator he needed because there was nothing else to tell him differently—until he met the FMC, that is. This made it not exactly easy for him to fall out of love with Hayun, but more so that his love for Hayun couldn't exist once that instant acknowledgement of his actual true mate happened. He could (and does) still care for her, but he didn't have the capacity any longer to care about her cheating (even though he knew he should).

As far as the dynamic of his relationship with Hayun vs. the FMC, it is going to be different in the respect that the FMC is his true mate. He loved Hayun and he cared for her deeply, but unbeknownst to him, there was and would have always been something missing. They could have and potentially would have eventually realized their incompatibility. Jungkook would have started to question his belief in true mates or just how perfect true mates supposedly are. The relationship with the FMC is still so new, but for this lore, true mates are on the same basis as soulmates. They are irrevocably perfect for one another in all ways. So, it's not that he ever treated Hayun poorly, but it could pale in comparison to how he will automatically and naturally treat the FMC.

I hope this at least somewhat answers your questions! I tend to ramble and can be long-winded at times lol 😅

#beautiful soul anon #fic: golden cufflinks

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colormepurplex2 · 7 months ago

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You're always so sweet, @bobathi! Thank you for reading!💜

Golden Cufflinks | JJK

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

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

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

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hayun!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I doing the right thing?”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hayun, I don’t—”

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

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

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

“Hayun, I-I-I don’t…I’m not—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🥀🥀🥀

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🥀🥀🥀

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hayun, we need to talk.”

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

“What? No!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” Jungkook says wearily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So,” you parrot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, nah. I’m okay, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you feel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🥀🥀🥀

Jungkook, 3 months later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🥀🥀🥀

Those words do something to you.

I need more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?” you gasp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#beautiful soul brenda #fic: golden cufflinks #jungkook x reader

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colormepurplex2 · 7 months ago

Text

This is easily one of the most indulgent fics I've consumed lately, haha. Want some shameless Taekook x reader sandwich action? This delivers, literally.

Side note: I've only ever been on a party bus once and it was nothing like this...and now I'm kind of sad about that.

But, in all realness. Tae asks,

"Can you handle it?"

Dude, idk...but I'm willing to try 😂😂

can you handle it?

🔞pairing: Tae x Reader X JK

🔞genre: Girls Night Out AU, Strangers to lovers, pure unadulterated smut, porn with little plot, threesome, party bus sex, playboys Tae and JK

🔞rating: M

🔞wordcount: 3909

⚠️chapter warnings: extremely descriptive and graphic smut scene

summary: A night out with the girls was meant to be simple fun—until a chance encounter turns the heat up. Drinks, dancing, a flirtation that goes too far… Now, the only question left is: Can You Handle It?

Being single for the last seven months has put your life into perspective; it’s pretty boring. You thought throwing yourself into your work would fill that void of loneliness, but so far you have been very wrong.

You haven't been out with the girls in a while and the idea of a party bus sounds like the perfect Friday night. Your BFF insists the male-to-female ratio is always lit on this booze tour and she promises nobody's going home alone.

"Who says I wanna take anybody home?” you sneer, becoming instantly defensive. “Don’t assume I’m in need of a dick appointment just because I’ve been single for almost a year.”

“Nobody’s saying you have to start a whole new relationship. You just need to get yours before you explode from the stress,” she reminds her in the sweet yet patronizing tone of a best friend who doesn’t hold back.

“I get mine!” You exclaim dramatically.

“Your vibrator doesn’t count bitch. Get ready. Bus will be there in forty-five minutes.”

She hangs up before you can protest further and you race to get ready. You take a quick shower and then decide to throw on the cute hot pink dress you purchased as a pick-me-up – you know, the one you thought you’d wear to get over him, but never did. Then you slip into your stilettos, apply light makeup and throw your hair into a messy bun.

You inspect yourself in the mirror, deciding it's good enough for a night out with the girls, since you have no intention of hooking up with anyone. You just want to live for tonight; with great music, good company, and lots of drinks. Your thought process is interrupted by a notification letting you know the bus is arriving, and you take a few deep breaths before rushing with restraint to the door.

There’s already a decent number of riders when you board, though not a single guy appeals to your taste; which is fine since you’re not interested in hooking up. But within a few stops you find yourself needing to reinforce this mantra of self imposed celibacy, when two insanely good-looking men step onto the bus and instantly catch your eye.

You wonder if they're brothers. Both are tall and broad-shouldered, with chiseled jaws, deep brown eyes, and black hair that looks casually mussed yet perfectly coiffed at the same time. Your breath hitches as they choose to sit right across from you.

Your BFF raises an approving mischievous eyebrow in your direction that you return with a quick sneering glare. However, you’re already beginning to feel shy and exposed as both of the tantalizing men seem to eye your dangerously bare legs, making you feel as if maybe you should have dressed down for the night.

The tour stops at a few smaller pubs, giving just enough time for a couple shots and a little mingling. But you're unable to control the urge, constantly finding yourself scanning the room for the two guys from the bus. Each time you find them they seem to be staring in your direction, as if sizing you up. When you finally arrive at the last stop - one of the hottest night clubs in the area - some of the riders go their separate ways while the rest of the party heads inside to continue the night's festivities.

Bottles cover the table in the VIP, shots are passed around, and eventually the party heads to the dance floor. Your favorite song plays and your body moves to the familiar rhythm without thought. You close your eyes, letting the music flow through you - relaxing you - making you forget.

Before you know it, the two men you’ve been playing I spy with all night have you sandwiched, their hands on your hips, your bodies now moving in unison to the beat you were alone in a moment ago.

"I'm Taehyung, this is my friend, Jungkook. We noticed you noticing us,” One says confidently from where he dances behind you. “Is there something we can help you with?” he asks, pulling your body against his and letting his lips brush your ear as he speaks.

His friend, Jungkook, notices your pupils flare in response to Taehyung's question and he moves closer, pressing his body to yours. The pressure of them against you feels so right, as if it was fate calling your name, convincing you this is what you need.

You instantly feel your body relax between them. Melding with them as you continue to move to the music. All thoughts of your earlier mantra dissolving under their touch. Taehyung loosens his grip on your waist, and soon his hands are exploring; roaming your body, sliding across sections of bare skin not hidden by your dress, seeking to know you through touch. All the while you stare into Jungkook’s smiling, excited eyes as his friend continues his tour of your body. His expression tells you you’re beautiful, you’re sexy, you’re desired. His hungry penetrating gaze and Tae’s roaming hands transform you into the goddess you always knew was within, awaiting release.

You’re so intent on his eyes, you don’t notice Jungkook’s hand leaving your waist to join the expedition, and the sudden feel of his curious fingers trailing up your inner leg, stopping just short of your already quivering slit, makes your knees buckle. His eyes light up with increased excitement. He leans forward taking a nibble of your ear, inching his fingers into your lonely passage, opening you, releasing your essence. They move inside you as if joining in on the dance. You let out an audible sigh as he exits.

"Already wet and we haven’t even begun the fun yet," he teases, holding up his slick glistened fingers for Tae to see.

Your inner goddess shrinks back a bit in embarrassment as you quickly look around at the throng of people dancing near you. “Stop that,” you giggle nervously as you grab Jungkook’s wrist in an attempt to lower his hand from view. But he’s too strong and you have little success in moving him even an inch.

“Don’t get shy now, baby,” he purrs as he brings his wet fingers to your lips, your hand still gripping his wrist. Then his lips follow, kissing you over his fingers, your tongues meet, exploring each other’s mouths, savoring your taste.

One of Taehyung’s exploring hands slips quietly beneath the hem of your dress. He cups the supple curve of your ass, squeezing once before slowly descending in search of the treasure below. Two of his long slender fingers slide eagerly into your now quivering walls and you feel the heat of his breath on your neck as his tongue lingers up behind your ear, his lips planting a warm kiss.

"She's definitely ready," he growls, tasting your sweet nectar.

Grinding against you, it becomes evident they feel the same. Slick dripping down your thigh, you return the favor, palming both of their cocks, feeling them harden from your touch.

"You guys want to get out of here? We can go to my place.” The desperation in your request was fairly obvious.

"Be patient princess, we've got time," Jungkook utters, moaning at the tender grip you have on his stiff member.

His lips meet your neck and he nibbles and sucks, marking you, claiming you as theirs. You feel his bulging cock twitch in your hand when you lay your head back onto Taehyung’s chest, inviting him to mark the other side of your neck.

Just as he finishes leaving his second mark, the song ends. You lead them off the dance floor towards the VIP and they follow like obedient servants, making you feel powerful and seductive - a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. Your inner Goddess beams with pride.

They untuck their shirts as you enter the VIP, attempting to hide their arousal. But you know what awaits you beneath those layers of fabric. You felt the promise of what they have to offer and you can’t wait to claim your rewards.

In the VIP more rounds of shots are poured, the flirting and teasing continues, and everyone is drunk and oblivious to the private party taking place right in front of them. Welcoming kisses from their soft lips, deliberate caresses of your inner thighs, your body aching for more.

As the night lingers on guests begin leaving, opting for a rideshare rather than the party bus. Your BFF is still on the dance floor with the man she decided she was going home with tonight, and upon noticing you’re still at the club she dashes over to the VIP.

“Give the driver your address, because I *hiccup* going home with Miguel! He knows how to Tango *hiccup* perfectly in this!” She quickly scurries back to him and they exit the club, his hand cupped on her round ass as they walk out.

You jot down your address on a napkin, Taehyung grabs it from you, slipping it into his pocket, having heard the conversation between you and your friend.

"Looks like it's just us, are you ready, baby?" Taehyung asks with his deep, seductive voice. The sheer tone sends chills through every orifice on your body, causing your skin to shiver and fill with goosebumps. Jungkook places his large hand on the small of your back, leading you to the exit.

“Take the longest route to this address,” Taehyung insists, handing the driver the napkin and a hundred dollar bill, before following you and Jungkook into the private back section of the party bus.

Just as they had earlier, you sit across from them, teasingly spreading your legs, revealing your exposed core. Moaning as you dip two fingers into your warm core and pull them out, sucking and releasing them with a pop.

Taehung eyeballs you while palming himself, nodding at Jungkook to give you what you’re clearly in need of. Standing up, Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head, unbuttoning and allowing his pants to fall to his feet, his hard cock standing at attention for you. He slowly crouches into a kneel in front of your parted thighs, his fingers linger over your slit, your whole body quivering with desire.

The sensation of his warm tongue feasting on your clit numbs all your other senses. A slow burn starts in the pit of your stomach, surging slowly through your veins with every suck, swirl and lick. He plunges his tongue inside your succulent, tight walls as your euphoric orgasm comes to a peak. Fingers gripping his hair holding his head in place, your core grinding against his face accelerating your high.

"K-Kook I'm cumming!" The elevated tone in your voice summons Taehyung's lips to your mouth, muffling your moans, his tongue exploring your mouth, entangling with yours.

When you finish, Jungkook stands, wiping your slick from his chin before settling back on the velvet bench seat across from you. Watching him lustfully as he strokes his hard cock. Taehyung stands over you, large cock in hand ready to stretch your walls to the point of no return.

Before he has a chance, Jungkook calls him over, inaudibly whispering into Tae’s ear. They both look you over, sneering and smirking, mischievous grins on their faces.

“We’re keeping secrets now?,” you inquire playful, yet pouty.

“He said, ‘I don’t think she’s ready for what we’re gonna give her,’ so the question is can you handle it?” Taehyung questioned, his dark, hooded eyes filled with lust, ready to pound into you, filling you with his large cock.

Maybe it’s the alcohol you drank tonight, maybe it’s the lack of sexual release in the last 8 months, but the words that leave your mouth next surprise all of you.

“I’m ready to take whatever you’re going to give me,” your finger pointing daringly at Taehyung, which he obviously takes as a challenge.

“Come sit on it then,” Tae commands while using both hands to stroke his massive shaft.

You stand up, hiking your dress to your waist and walk over to him, straddling his thick thighs as you position him at your entrance. Slowly guiding him into you, walls stretching more than they ever have around his girthy cock. You feel him in your stomach, wanting to tap out, but refusing to lose a challenge.

He feels your hesitation once he’s buried deep inside of you, his large hands grip your hips, lifting you up and down, coaxing your hips to roll. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls you close as he lays down on the bench seat, giving himself better leverage from the bottom.

The sudden feel of a finger teasing the outer rim of your other hole surprises you, however, your body is aroused with ecstasy and you let yourself relax into it.

That is, until you notice Jungkook stand and slowly make his way to you, throbbing cock in hand and a sly grin on his perfect face, fully aware Taehyung is only readying you for what’s to come.

He leans down and kisses you more softly than you expect, letting you feel the curve of his playful grin against your trembling lips before sliding down to your neck, trailing kisses along your nape as he moves behind you and out of view, only the feel of him mapping out his conquest betraying his location.

Tae grabs your chin, forcing you to open your eyes, the fingers of his other hand still prodding and prepping that yet to be opened portal of pleasure.

"Look at me, baby," he purrs, "focus on me."

You nod in acquiescence, almost forgetting the looming figure at your back as your hungry eyes lock on his and you continue your rhythmic hip slide up and down his enormous shaft.

Jungkook’s grinning lips and hot tongue disappear suddenly from your back, his hand bearing down gently until your face is mere inches from Taehyungs.

Tae smiles at you with hooded, amused eyes.

"Ready, baby?" He asks in a sultry whisper.

You don't have time to answer. All you can do is gasp for breath as you feel Jungkooks swollen head against your opening, rubbing against it, fighting Taes finger for room to enter.

Your entire being becomes filled by them both. You're consumed by the pressure of their hard cocks moving in unison, stretching and stimulating every nerve ending, forcing a deep moan to escape past your pressed lips.

Jungkook’s moans soon harmonize with yours, and Taehyung’s mouth forms a boxy smile of satisfaction at the sound. “I think he likes it as much as you,” he teases from below. But the only response you can manage is another groan as his hands slide to your ass, gripping each cheek and spreading them to allow Jungkook deeper access.

“I do love a tight ass.” Jungkook growls into your ear, pressing you down, pinning you between their sweaty bodies as you struggle to keep your hips in motion, craving more of the sensation of their cocks moving against each other through your walls.

“Harder,” you cry out, finally able to form a word.

Tae, his hands still spreading your ass open, thrusts up and pulls you forward until he’s buried deep inside, almost forcing Jungkook out of you from within. Your mouth opens in a silent scream of desperation and your hands frantically grab at Jungkook’s solid thighs to keep him in place.

Tae can’t take his eyes off your gaping mouth, and without notice he slides carefully out of you and from beneath you, leaving you with a hollow feeling until Jungkook’s arm slides around your waist from behind, lifting you, never exiting his conquered domain as he shifts to sit on the bench. He bites softly at your shoulders and back as he pulls each of your legs over his knees and spreads his legs wide, exposing your now empty throbbing pussy to Taehyung.

You stare at Tae standing before you, his glistening cock heavy in his hand as his thumb slides back and forth over the slick, fat head. The sight, along with the feel of Jungkook filling you up is more than you can bear and you reach down to slide your own fingers into the hot wetness between your legs to fill some of the emptiness, but the look in Tae’s eyes says he has other plans.

His accomplice sees his intent and quickly grabs your arms up over your head, holding them together by the wrists with just one large hand while the other hand runs over your breasts, lightly pinching and flicking your hardened nipples. His body never stops moving beneath you as he continues your rhythm. He laughs softly as you unconsciously attempt to pull a hand free to touch yourself with, desperate to relieve the building pressure.

“You can’t be done yet, beautiful,” Jungkook instructs in your ear, his tongue running along its sensitive edges, making your eyes shut and your head loll back in pleasurable despair. “My friend hasn’t gotten what he really wants yet.”

You feel Taehyung move closer, hovering just outside of your entrance but not allowing contact, the heat of him radiating into you as if he was still inside. You squeeze your eyes closed tighter, enjoying the anticipation of what's to come, but then snap them back open, suddenly desperate to see his gorgeous face as he slides back into you. His boxy, mischievous smile returns as your eyes meet his.

“Please,” you suddenly beg, the plea surprising even you. His smile grows, and just as suddenly he plunges back into you, the friction of their cocks once again sliding against each other through that thin wall, sending shock waves of bliss through your body, and then he is gone again.

Before you can moan a complaint, Jungkook releases your arms and in one swift motion lowers you both to the floor, his pace and depth intensifying. You reach up greedily with one hand and lead Tae’s dripping cock to your ready mouth. Your lips stretch and your jaw aches pleasurably as you take in his girth. He groans loudly for the first time, the sound spurring you on as you take him in deeper than you’ve ever taken a man before.

You can feel the wetness drip from your aching, needy pussy; the taste of Tae and the depth of Jungkook taking you to new levels of ecstasy. You brace your knees and the palm of one hand hard into the rough carpet, ignoring the sting of pain as layers of skin were stripped away.

Jungkook’s hand slides around, three fingers immediately entering you, filling that void you so desperately needed filled. You regretfully release Tae, leaning back into Jungkook as an earth shattering orgasm begins to build within your body, allowing him better access to your opening. Tae quickly covers your open moaning mouth with his as his hand joins Junkook in its mission to push you over the edge.

You bounce and writhe against the increasing hardness of Jungkook’s cock in your ass and the pressure of his fingers inside of you. You moan into Tae’s devouring mouth and shudder under the weight of his fingers rapidly rubbing your already swollen clit.

The first orgasm had been a mere fraction of what rocketed through your body this time, and both of them grip you tightly as you convulse under their continued attack. At its crescendo you feel Jungkook pull out of both of your holes, pulling you back against him as the warmth of his load spreads between your pressed bodies. Tae slides between your spread legs, forcing them wider, and reinserts himself into your overstimulated swollen cunt.

Thrusting wildly, his stroke becomes uncontrolled, unpredictable, penetrating deep within your walls. Your orgasm that you thought was over returns with renewed vigor, repeaking, surpassing the crescendo and tumbling you into oblivion.

“Don’t fight it,” Jungkook instructs from behind where he holds you steady, one arm around your waist to anchor you, the other kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples.

Just when you thought you had reached your pleasure limit, Taehyung abruptly pulls out, his cum spurting hot and sticky against your inner thighs, the sweat from his brow dripping onto your breasts as he leans over you catching his breath.

You sag in Jungkook’s arms, unable to move, your muscles spent from the exertion. You can feel the pinging sensation of your nerve endings as they continue to fire off between your legs, like a post orgasm firework display.

For a long time the three of you lay, spent and exhausted, naked sweaty bodies tangled together, only the sound of your heavy breathing and the hum of the bus breaking the silence. You feel… satiated. You feel euphoric. Your inner goddess is dancing.

Finally Tae stands and reaches out a hand to help you up. As you rise he pulls you to him, kissing you slowly and softly, lingering against your full lips. Jungkook rises behind you and begins to wipe away the mess he left on your back. Tae pulls away and looks into your eyes, his smile affectionately amused.

“There’s a restroom in the back,” he says casually as he releases you and takes a small towel from Jungkook. He pats his sweaty brow and you can only nod in response before sweeping your hot pink dress up off the floor and heading to the small airplane sized bathroom.

When you return they’re both dressed and lounging comfortably, drinks in hand, talking leisurely about nothing at all. And although you’ve all gotten to know one another extremely well tonight, you stand there in an awkward silence, waiting for one of them to notice you.

Tae turns to you first, his smile still amused yet kind at the same time. He approaches you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You look pretty with your hair down,” he whispers, before kissing you lightly on the cheek.

“I like it up,” Jungkook chimes in, “easier to grab onto.” He winks at you from where he still sits and then finishes his drink in one gulp.

You blush, but whether it's because of Tae’s sultry gentleness or Jungkook’s sexy cockiness is yet to be determined.

Jungkook stands and heads toward the door, and only then do you realize the bus is no longer moving. You follow him out, Tae close behind, and the three of you stand looking expectantly at each other on the sidewalk as the bus pulls away.

You can’t let the night end like this. You don’t want the night to end like this. No matter how many times you claimed you had no intention of taking anyone home, you couldn’t have imagined this scenario. There was no way you were letting it end here.

You grab both of their hands and lead them through the front door of your building. Upon entering the apartment, your dress drops to the floor and you head to the shower.

As soon as Tae and Jungkook hear the water running they make their way to you, undressing hastily to join. No words were exchanged as they ran their soapy hands over your body, washing away the remnants of passion, taking special care of the sensitive areas.

After drying off, they join you in bed, one on each side of you, holding you protectively as you all drift off to sleep together

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