Beneath the Hunter’s Moon

by Eztell

Summary:

One of the hunters sneered and yanked the chains harder, forcing the russet wolf’s body forward. He let out a sharp snarl, his limbs trembling as he fought against the pull, but the silver did its job—it burned, it drained, it stole whatever strength he had left.

The villagers only laughed.

Laughed.

Jungkook felt something hot spill down his cheek before he even realized he was crying.
He swallowed thickly, blinking against the blur in his vision, willing himself to stop, to keep it together—but how could he?

This was wrong.

So, so wrong.

His body trembled as he bit his lip, trying to keep himself quiet, to make himself small, but his tears kept falling.
They burned against his cold skin, his breath coming out in uneven gasps as he forced himself to watch, even though it hurt.

And then—

The russet wolf looked at him.

OR

Jungkook is a human living in a village of hunters. Rejected by his peers for refusing to become one of them, he became an outcast.
When the hunters come back from the forest one evening, dragging two injured wolves behind them, jungkook knows he has to help them, even if it means more suffering for him.

Notes:

Hey !!

So this fic is the product of a late night scenario i made in my head one night while trying to fall asleep.
Since i can't ever seem to finish it before actually falling asleep i decided to write it, but then i thought that since i was writting it, i should maybe share it.
Not that we need any more omegaverse fanfictions but you know, one more can't hurt.

Enjoy !!

Chapter 1: Shackled Souls

The wind howled through the village like a vengeful spirit, slipping through the cracks of worn-down homes and rattling loose shutters. It was merciless, tearing through Jungkook’s threadbare coat, sinking its icy claws into his skin as if punishing him for daring to exist.

Though he had endured many winters before, this one felt especially cruel. No matter how tightly he wrapped his arms around himself, he couldn’t stop shaking.

His coat, a pitiful thing, had seen too many seasons. The fabric had worn thin over the years, fraying at the edges, unable to shield him from the biting cold. Unlike the other villagers, who draped themselves in thick bear fur—warm, heavy, a mark of their place among the hunters—Jungkook had never been offered such a privilege.

He had learned long ago where he stood in this village. He was an outcast, a disappointment, undeserving of anything more than scraps.
And so, scraps were all he had.

The coat he now wore was one he had stitched together himself, a patchwork of discarded furs and tattered fabric, pieced together with aching fingers and quiet desperation.

It was neither beautiful nor sturdy, but it was his, and in a life where everything else had been dictated for him, that small ownership brought a sliver of comfort.

Still, it did little to keep out the cold.

He pulled it tighter around himself, tucking his chin against his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible. But even that wouldn’t spare him from the sharp sting of the villagers’ gazes, from the weight of their disdain pressing down on him like freshly fallen snow.He had long since grown used to the whispers. The way voices dropped when he passed, only to rise again in cruel murmurs just loud enough for him to hear.

“Useless boy.”


“He looks just like an omega.”


“What kind of man refuses to hunt?”

The words curled around him like frost, familiar yet still cutting, no matter how many times he had heard them before. He clenched his fists in the folds of his coat, swallowing down the bitter sting in his throat. He would not react. He would not give them the satisfaction.

Because here, in this village, where men were measured by the blood on their hands, Jungkook had never been enough. And he never would be. Jungkook kept his head down, fists clenched so tightly in the worn fabric of his coat that his knuckles ached.

The wind continued to howl around him, but it was nothing compared to the voices, always cruel, meant to hurt him. He forced himself to keep walking, to ignore them, but the words still found their way beneath his skin, settling in places already raw with old wounds.

He had heard it all before. The insults, the scoffs, the sneers that followed him wherever he went. He told himself they didn’t matter, that they were just words. But the truth was, they did matter. They always did. Because no matter how much he tried to steel himself, no matter how many times he told himself he was numb to it, the pain never lessened. It never stopped cutting deep.

His refusal to become a hunter had made him something less than a man in their eyes—something weak, something shameful. It had turned his home into something suffocating, his family into strangers who could barely stand to look at him.

His father’s disappointment clung to him like a shadow, heavy and inescapable. His mother’s silence was even worse, a quiet condemnation that told him, more than words ever could, that he had lost whatever love she had left for him.

If he had just been like the other boys, if he had just picked up a bow and learned to carve into flesh without flinching, maybe things would have been different. Maybe his father wouldn’t have spat the word disgrace at him like venom, maybe his mother wouldn’t have turned away from him like he was something filthy, something she regretted bringing into this world.

But he couldn’t.

Because Jungkook had grown up believing in something else.

His grandmother had whispered stories to him when he was small, her voice soft, her hands warm as they traced gentle patterns along his arms. She had told him about the shifters—not as monsters, not as mindless beasts to be hunted, but as creatures of beauty and strength, wild and untamed.

She spoke of them with reverence, weaving tales of wolves that ran with the wind, of beings that were not meant to be slaughtered and skinned but revered, respected.

Those stories had taken root in his heart, growing into something unshakable.

So how could he raise a blade against them?

How could he possibly take part in something so senseless, so cruel?

He knew the answer. He couldn’t and he wouldn’t, even if it meant living a life of suffering. And for that, he had been cast aside. But the village was not content with just shunning him. No, they would punish him in a way he couldn’t escape, in a way that would crush whatever resistance he had left.

They were forcing him to marry Sungil.

A cold unlike the winter wind curled around Jungkook’s ribs, sinking deep into his bones at the thought of the man who would soon be his husband.

Sungil.

Jungkook’s stomach twisted violently. His hands shook where they gripped his coat, fingernails digging into the fabric as if holding on tight enough could stop this from happening.

Sungil had always hated him. Or maybe hate wasn’t the right word—because there had been something else in his gaze, something worse than hatred. He had always looked at Jungkook like he was his, like no matter how much the younger boy tried to escape, one day, he would belong to him.

And now, that day had come.

Jungkook could still remember the way Sungil’s lips had curled into a pleased smirk when the betrothal was announced, the way his fingers had tightened around Jungkook’s wrist just a little too hard, leaving behind a faint bruise.

“You should be grateful,” he had murmured, his voice a mockery of kindness.

“No one else would take someone like you.”

Jungkook had wanted to rip his hand away, had wanted to scream that he would rather die than belong to him. But he hadn’t. Because he knew it wouldn’t matter. The choice had never been his to make.

And so, just like that, the last piece of freedom Jungkook had left was slipping through his fingers. There was no one left to save him.
A shiver ran down Jungkook’s spine, but this time, it had nothing to do with the cold. It was something else, something far worse—a deep, creeping dread that curled around his ribs and squeezed, making it difficult to breathe.

Sungil.

Even the name left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Jungkook had never known a time when Sungil wasn’t there, watching him, taunting him, waiting. From childhood, he had been a shadow that loomed over Jungkook’s life, a force of cruelty disguised as something inevitable.

It had started with small things—an outstretched foot that sent Jungkook tumbling into the dirt, a shove too rough during play, a smirk that never quite reached his eyes. But as they grew older, the taunts had sharpened, the touches had lingered.

“So delicate,” Sungil would murmur mockingly, fingers brushing against Jungkook’s face, his grip firm enough to leave behind a warning.

“Too pretty for a man. Maybe you were meant to be something else.”

Jungkook had hated it.

Hated the way Sungil looked at him, like he was something fragile, something to be owned rather than a person. Hated the way his words dripped with possession, as if Jungkook’s refusal to become a hunter had somehow marked him as his.

The older they got, the worse it became. The shoves turned to bruises. The insults turned to whispered promises, sickly sweet and laced with something that made Jungkook’s skin crawl.

“You’ll understand one day,” Sungil had told him once, his breath warm against Jungkook’s ear as he pinned him against the wooden frame of his family’s barn.

“You’re meant to belong to someone stronger. Someone like me.”

Jungkook had shoved him away, had spat at his feet and told him he would never belong to him. But Sungil had only laughed. He had always laughed, as if Jungkook’s resistance was nothing more than a game to him. As if the outcome had already been decided.

And now, soon, Sungil would win.

The village had ensured it. His father had ensured it.

Sungil would have complete control over his life, his body, his everything. Jungkook’s stomach twisted violently.
He could already picture it—the way Sungil would parade him around like a prize, his grip never loosening, his eyes never straying.

The way he would claim him in front of the village, not out of love, not out of care, but because he had always wanted him, always believed Jungkook should be his.

“No one else will take you,” he had said just days ago, voice smooth as he ran a rough hand down Jungkook’s arm, ignoring the way he flinched.

“No one but me. You should be grateful, sweetheart.” Jungkook had bitten his tongue so hard it nearly bled.

Because what else could he do?

He couldn’t escape. There was nowhere to run. The winter was deadly, its grip unforgiving, and alone, he wouldn’t last a week. The village was surrounded by miles of endless snow, thick forests, and ice-covered rivers.

No food.

No shelter.

Even if he tried, even if he somehow made it past the guards and into the wilderness, the cold would swallow him whole.
And maybe that was why they had done this. Why his father had signed the marriage agreement without hesitation.

Because they knew.

They knew that Jungkook had no way out.

A murmur rippled through the village. It started as a distant hum, low voices carried by the wind, but it quickly grew—sharp, excited, filled with something Jungkook couldn’t quite place at first. Then came the rush of movement. Villagers abandoned their tasks, stepping out of their homes, trudging through the snow to gather toward the commotion.

Children ran ahead, slipping on patches of ice in their eagerness, while older men and women whispered among themselves, their breaths forming clouds in the freezing air. Jungkook frowned, instinctively stepping back as people pushed past him, eager to see whatever had drawn such attention.

He wasn’t sure what was happening, but the energy in the air was palpable, thick with anticipation. His fingers tightened around the edges of his coat, hesitation rooting him in place.

He shouldn’t care.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t meant for him. It never was.

And yet— The sound of heavy boots crunching through the snow cut through the noise. Jungkook’s breath hitched as dark silhouettes emerged from the swirling white haze beyond the village gates.

The hunters.

They were returning from their latest trip into the frozen wilderness, their figures imposing, broad, the furs draped over their shoulders proof of another successful hunt. But this time something was different. Jungkook squinted through the flurry of snowflakes, struggling to see what they were dragging behind them.

His heart pounded against his ribs as he tried to push forward, to weave through the crowd that had formed like an impenetrable wall in front of him. Rough shoulders bumped against his own, shoving him back, but he didn’t stop.

He had to see.

And then—

A sharp gasp tore from his throat.

Two wolves lay in the snow.

Jungkook froze, his entire body going rigid, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. One was pure white, its fur like freshly fallen snow, though now stained with streaks of crimson, matted and tangled from the struggle. The other was a deep russet, its powerful form slumped against the ground, its once-vibrant coat dulled with filth and blood.

Both wolves were breathing, but barely. Their chests rose and fell in weak, uneven intervals, their flanks trembling from the effort. Silver chains wrapped around their bodies, glinting in the pale light, biting into their fur. Jungkook could see where the metal had burned through skin, leaving behind raw, angry wounds.

The shifters weren’t just captured—they were broken, their strength drained, their bodies reduced to nothing more than trembling, injured things. The cheers of the villagers barely registered in his ears. His gaze remained locked on the wolves.

Shifters.

He had grown up hearing about them, listening to tales spun by his grandmother’s gentle voice—stories of creatures that ran faster than the wind, of beings too beautiful, too free to ever be caught. He had imagined them as something untouchable, existing beyond human reach, slipping through the forests like ghosts.

But now, for the first time in his life, he was seeing them. And they were dying.

His heart twisted painfully, something sharp and unbearable lodging itself deep in his chest. They weren’t beasts. They weren’t mindless creatures, as the hunters claimed. They weren’t prey.

They were alive. Jungkook could see it in their eyes—the flickering embers of defiance, the lingering fight still burning despite the agony weighing down their bodies. But that fire was fading. The silver chains were suffocating it, draining the life from them with every passing second.

His hands shook at his sides.

This isn’t right.

The thought rang in his mind, frantic, desperate, louder than the voices celebrating around him.

This wasn’t a victory.

This was cruelty.

The hunters stood tall, their chests puffed with pride as the villagers clapped them on the back, voices rising in praise. Jungkook’s heart sank into his stomach. Sungil was at the forefront of the group, his cold eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction as he walked with exaggerated steps, dragging the two injured shifters behind him.

“A fine hunt!” someone cheered.

“Look at the size of them! Took down two at once, did you?” another man laughed, eyes gleaming with admiration.

Jungkook’s stomach twisted violently.

The celebration made him sick.

The villagers gathered around, their breath visible in the frigid air as they crowded closer, eager to get a better look at the so-called prize. Men grinned, their hands clasped behind their backs as they nodded in approval.

Women whispered among themselves, their eyes flitting between the wolves and the hunters, murmuring about strength, about protection, about how these beasts had finally been put in their place.

But Jungkook could only see the suffering.

The wolves were more than just wolves. They were people.

Someone’s brother. Someone’s son. Someone’s friend.

And now, they lay bleeding in the snow, reduced to nothing more than battered bodies and trembling limbs.

The white wolf let out a soft, pitiful whimper as one of the hunters yanked roughly on his chains, dragging him forward. His large body slumped to the ground, too weak to resist, his head hanging low as his breath came in shallow gasps. His fur, which might have once been beautiful, was dirtied with streaks of red, the pristine white tainted with the evidence of his suffering.

Something inside Jungkook cracked.

It was a sound he had never heard before—so human, filled with pain and exhaustion that it sent a violent shudder through him.

He’s hurting. He’s in pain.

The realization hit him like a blow.

Shifters weren’t animals. They weren’t just bodies meant to be killed and displayed like trophies.

They felt. They suffered.

They were just like him.

Jungkook’s hands clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms as helplessness surged through him. He wanted to scream at the hunters to stop, to let the wolf rest, to loosen the chains that were clearly too tight—but his voice was trapped in his throat, suffocated by fear and the knowledge that no one would listen.

His chest burned, the weight of it pressing down, suffocating him.

And then—

A low, warning growl rumbled through the cold air.

Jungkook’s gaze snapped to the russet wolf, his body tense despite the injuries weighing him down. Unlike the white wolf, who had already begun to surrender to his pain, the russet one was still fighting.

The sound was deep, guttural, filled with something dangerous—not mindless rage, not recklessness, but protection.

He wasn’t growling for himself.

He was growling for him.

For the white wolf.

Even with silver chains digging into his flesh, even as blood matted his fur and exhaustion threatened to pull him under, he was still fighting for his packmate.

And the hunters hated that.

One of them sneered and yanked the chains harder, forcing the russet wolf’s body forward. He let out a sharp snarl, his limbs trembling as he fought against the pull, but the silver did its job—it burned, it drained, it stole whatever strength he had left. His growl broke into a pained grunt as his legs nearly gave out beneath him.

The villagers only laughed.

Laughed .

Jungkook felt something hot spill down his cheek before he even realized he was crying.

He swallowed thickly, blinking against the blur in his vision, willing himself to stop, to keep it together—but how could he?

This was wrong.

So, so wrong.

His body trembled as he bit his lip, trying to keep himself quiet, to make himself small, but his tears kept falling. They burned against his cold skin, his breath coming out in uneven gasps as he forced himself to watch, even though it hurt.

And then—
The russet wolf looked at him.

Chapter 2: First Step to Freedom

Summary:

Jungkook can’t live with the guilt of standing by while the wolves are hurting. Despite his fear, he knows he has to help, even if it means making his life more painful in the future.

Jungkook froze, his breath catching in his throat as his heart lurched violently in his chest. The world around him seemed to slow, as though the cold, harsh winds of the village had suddenly stilled. There was only the wolf.

Amber eyes.

Wild.

Pained.

But clear, so piercingly clear that they locked onto Jungkook’s own with an intensity that made his breath falter. Those eyes cut through him like a blade, raw and unyielding, stripping him bare in ways he couldn’t begin to comprehend.

For a moment, Jungkook felt as though he might collapse under the weight of that gaze. His body felt lighter and heavier all at once, as if his soul was being dragged out of his chest.

Even in its pain—its body battered, trembling with exhaustion, the blood from its wounds staining its russet fur—the wolf saw him. The sheer vulnerability in those eyes hit him like a punch to the gut, but there was something else there, too.

Something far deeper.

Jungkook didn’t know what he expected to find in those eyes.

Hatred?

Anger?

A look of disdain, perhaps, or the cold indifference of a creature who saw him as just another weak, helpless human?

But there was none of that.

Instead, there was understanding.

A profound, aching understanding that crushed him from the inside out. In that moment, Jungkook realized that the wolf—this powerful, noble creature—knew. It knew what jungkook was feeling, how he wasn't enjoying the gruesome sight before him. It knew that he wasn’t like the others, that he wasn't cruel.

The way the wolf held his gaze, steady despite the blood dripping from its wounds, despite the trembling of its body—it wasn’t hostile. It wasn’t accusatory. No. It was something gentler than that. Something that whispered to Jungkook’s heart in a language he had never understood before.

The wolf understood.

It understood that Jungkook wasn’t one of them. That he wasn’t part of the vile celebration that surrounded him. That he wasn’t like the villagers, the hunters, or even Sungil. He wasn’t like them at all.

Jungkook’s chest tightened, and his breath hitched painfully in his throat. The tears he had tried so hard to hold back began to spill over, rolling down his cold cheeks. His hands trembled at his sides, his fingers curling into fists as if to hold onto something—anything—to stop the overwhelming ache that consumed him.

The connection, the silent exchange, it was too much for him to bear. His heart beat so wildly in his chest, it felt as though it might break free entirely. How could a creature in such agony still see him, still understand him?

And yet, in the russet wolf’s gaze, Jungkook saw a reflection of himself. He saw his own pain, his own torment. He saw a creature who had been broken and captured—someone who had been stripped of their freedom, just as he had. The ache in his chest deepened, and he wanted nothing more than to run to the wolf, to hold it, to whisper that he wasn’t one of them, that he could never be one of them, that he would make it stop.

But he couldn’t.

He was frozen in place, rooted to the ground by an invisible weight. His legs wouldn’t move, his voice wouldn’t rise. All he could do was stand there, shaking with helplessness as the hunters—Sungil included—dragged the injured creatures toward one of the storage huts, away from the center of the village.

Jungkook’s stomach twisted with disgust, watching them treat the wolves like nothing more than trophies to be locked away. He wanted to scream, wanted to do anything to stop it, to make them see what he saw. But his body refused to cooperate.

Something inside him snapped.

This wasn’t right.

It had never been right.

And no matter what it cost him, no matter the danger it might bring, Jungkook knew, in the deepest part of his soul, that he couldn’t let this continue. Not anymore. Not when the wolf had shown him that there was more to this than cruelty and conquest. Not when the wolf had looked at him with such aching understanding.

He wouldn’t let them suffer. He couldn’t.

No matter the cost, Jungkook wouldn’t stand by while they were treated like this.

Jungkook's eyes remained locked on the russet wolf, even as it was dragged away, chained and bloodied, its movements weak and pained. The wolf’s amber gaze was the last thing Jungkook saw before it was swallowed by the darkness of the hut, leaving him standing alone in the snow, the crowd around him slowly dispersing.

But Jungkook couldn’t move. He couldn’t tear his gaze from the blood that stained the snow, the remnants of the wolf’s suffering lying there like a mark on the world that no one seemed to care about. The pale white snow was stained with so much more than just blood. It was stained with his helplessness.

The tears fell freely now, without any restraint, flooding down his cheeks and freezing in streaks as they traced paths down his face. He didn’t bother to wipe them away.

What was the point?

What was the point of fighting against the pain when it had been a part of him for so long?

The last sounds of the villagers’ laughter and the praise for the hunters began to fade, and the cold around him seemed to grow sharper. The wind cut through him like daggers. And yet, the weight of the wolf’s gaze, the understanding it had shared with him, lingered in his chest like a brand.

The ache was unbearable.

Jungkook didn’t even know how long he stood there, staring at the bloodstained ground, his body trembling with quiet sobs that racked his frame. His chest ached with the force of his anger, but there was nothing he could do. He was just a bystander in this horrific display of violence. Just a powerless human in a world where the strong crushed the weak, where people were treated like tools, and where the wolves were nothing more than trophies to be displayed.

Eventually, the sound of heavy footsteps approached, and Jungkook didn’t need to look up to know who it was. The air shifted with the sickening presence of Sungil, who had returned from the celebrations. The scent of blood and the sharp tang of his pride followed him like a cloud, and Jungkook’s heart sank lower, if that was even possible.

“Well, well,” Sungil’s voice was mocking, almost smug, as he stopped beside Jungkook, looming over him. His voice was thick with satisfaction, and the cruelty in his tone made Jungkook’s stomach twist. “You look so pretty like this, Kookie. Tears streaming down your face... Makes you look so helpless. So weak.”

Jungkook flinched at the words, but he didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His throat was tight, and his mind was clouded with the memory of those amber eyes, of the connection he had shared with the russet wolf. All of that was slipping away now, replaced by the suffocating presence of Sungil.

Sungil leaned down, his fingers roughly lifting Jungkook’s chin so that their eyes met, forcing him to look up. His face was twisted into that sick, triumphant smirk, the one he always wore when he thought he had won.

“You’re going to make such a good wife for me,” Sungil murmured, his voice laced with possessiveness. He let his thumb trace the wet line of one of Jungkook’s tears, his touch cold and cruel. “I can’t wait. You’ll look so perfect beside me, all pretty and submissive. Just like this. My pretty little one.”

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered shut, the words cutting through him like a blade. Pretty. That was all they ever saw him as. A pretty object to be possessed, controlled, and hurt. Discarded when they grew bored of him. A delicate thing, incapable of doing anything on his own.

Sungil chuckled darkly at Jungkook’s silence before he finally released his grip on his chin, leaving Jungkook standing there, broken and exposed.

“I’ll be waiting for you” Sungil called over his shoulder, his tone patronizing, as he turned and walked away, his boots crunching through the snow, leaving Jungkook alone once more.

The moment Sungil’s footsteps faded into the distance, Jungkook’s body gave way. He sank to his knees, the weight of everything crashing down on him like a tidal wave. His shoulders shook violently as the tears continued to fall, but no one was there to see him now.

No one cared.

After a long while, Jungkook found the strength to push himself to his feet, wiping his face with the back of his hand and forcing himself to stop looking at the bloodstained snow. His body felt heavy, as if the snow itself had gotten inside his bones, but he knew he couldn’t stay here. Not in this place, not with the ghosts of what had just happened haunting every corner.

He stumbled through the village, his body moving automatically, mind numb. The familiar path to his hut felt like a distant memory, even though it had only been a few years since he had built it. His parents had kicked him out when he refused to follow their will, to become a hunter.

They didn’t care about him anymore.

They hadn’t for a long time.

The hut was small and barely held together, but it was his. The walls were a patchwork of old boards and salvaged materials, remnants of discarded wood and metal from the village. It had taken years of labor to build—sweat, tears, and a quiet resolve to prove to himself that he could survive without them.

He had built it with his own hands, piece by piece, and it was the only place where he could pretend that he belonged, even if just for a fleeting moment.

As Jungkook entered his home, he immediately sank to the floor. He sat on the floor, surrounded by the worn, ragged pieces of furniture he had cobbled together over the years.

The walls felt like they were closing in, the darkness creeping in as the last light of day faded. His chest was tight, his thoughts swirling in an endless cycle of grief and regret. The russet wolf’s gaze haunting him, its silent understanding still echoing in his mind.

But now, there was nothing he could do.

Not yet.

Jungkook hugged his knees to his chest, burying his face in his arms as more tears fell, soaking the sleeves of his coat. His sobs were quiet, broken, as if even his own body had given up on trying to fight.

Tomorrow would come, and with it, another day in the village. Another day with Sungil. Another day of being nothing more than a toy for others to play with. But for now, in the dim light of his lonely hut, Jungkook allowed himself a moment of quiet pain—a moment where he could let the rawness of his emotions spill over, unchecked and untamed.

For a moment, he let himself grieve.

For the wolves, for the life he had lost, and for the future that awaited him—one where he would never be free.

The darkness outside seemed to stretch endlessly, the wind biting at his skin through the cracks in his small hut. Jungkook could feel the hours dragging by, each one heavier than the last. The weight of his decision hung around him like a cloak, its edges sharp and suffocating, but there was no turning back.

Not now.

Not after everything he had seen.

He could still see the russet wolf's amber eyes in his mind, the way they had looked at him, full of a pain that matched his own. The memory was a bittersweet ache in his chest, a reminder of how powerless he was to help. But it also fueled him now, giving him a resolve he hadn’t known he was capable of.

He wouldn't stand by and let them suffer, not the wolves, not anyone.

The village was quiet tonight, its usual sounds muted by the thick blanket of snow and the biting cold. Jungkook had been watching the horizon for hours through his tiny window, waiting for the right moment, knowing the villagers were all likely celebrating the bounty of their hunt, their eyes clouded with pride.

The hunters, especially Sungil, would be too drunk on their own sense of superiority to notice anything amiss. That was the only thing that gave Jungkook a sliver of hope—he didn’t have much time, but he had enough.

The storage hut, where the wolves were being kept, was farther away from the village, nestled on the edge of the forest. The hunters had taken extra precautions, chaining the wolves up tightly and positioning guards around the perimeter to ensure they wouldn’t escape.

They were still wary of the wolves, too afraid of their strength and their power. The wolves had been captured, but the village believed they were too dangerous to be left to their own devices, too dangerous to even keep close.

Jungkook had been to the hut before, years ago, when he was younger. He remembered the path through the trees, the sharp angles of the fences and the darkness that always seemed to gather around that particular spot.

The forest was a place of mystery, and the storage hut sat just at the threshold between the village and the wilds beyond, a place where humans and shifters collided, where the rules of both worlds blurred.

Not human territory, yet not shifter territory either. 

He shook his head, trying to focus. Tonight, he would do what he could to help the wolves, to make sure they wouldn’t die here, bound and helpless.

Sitting in the dim light of his hut, Jungkook turned his thoughts to everything his grandmother had ever told him about wolves and shifters. She had spoken of them in hushed tones, as though the very act of speaking about them was dangerous. There had been stories of their strength, of their beauty, of how they could shift from human to wolf with the ease of a heartbeat.

She had told him about the fierceness of the alphas, the strenght of betas and the pureness of omegas. About how strong the bond they shared with their packmates was, how they would protect each other, even in death.

But there had been little to explain how to help them, to care for them. His grandmother had always believed the wolves were too powerful to be caught in the first place, let alone freed. But she had also spoken of their kindness, their bond with the earth, their ability to heal if given the right chance.

In order for Jungkook to help them heal, he would need to free them from the silver chains that bound them. Silver had been used for centuries, crafted into weapons designed to bring down the most powerful of creatures. While it burned humans on contact, it was far deadlier to wolves.

It didn’t just burn their flesh—it sank deep, searing through layers of skin and muscle, until it reached bone. The pain was excruciating, but it wasn’t just the physical torment that made silver so cruel. It drained their strength, slowly leeching away their energy until the wolves could no longer stand, could no longer fight, could no longer free themselves.

It rendered them weak, helpless—suspended in an agony that never truly ended until the silver was removed.

Jungkook bit his lip as he rummaged through the small shelves in his hut, collecting what little food he had left. He wasn’t sure if the wolves would even be able to eat, if they were too weak, too traumatized to take anything.

But he couldn’t just leave them to starve. He grabbed the last of his dried meats and a few apples, some stale bread, and stuffed them into a small leather bag. The bag felt like nothing compared to the weight of what he was about to do, but it would have to be enough.

His grandmother had taught him how to make simple remedies—herbal poultices, salves, and mixtures that could heal wounds or ease pain. He quickly gathered the materials for a rudimentary first aid kit: bandages, herbs, a small vial of antiseptic he had made himself, and a needle and thread, in case he needed to stitch up any wounds. He didn’t know if it would be enough, but he couldn’t leave the wolves in the condition they were in.

The hours dragged on. Jungkook’s heart beat in his chest like a drum, his anxiety rising as the night deepened. He couldn’t help but imagine what the wolves were going through right now, chained in that small, suffocating hut, their bodies still weak and bloodied. He could hear the faint echo of their whimpers in his mind, feel the weight of their suffering on his own skin. He had to act.

Jungkook sat in the corner of his hut, his eyes fixed on the door as if willing the time to pass faster. He kept his movements slow and deliberate, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He couldn’t afford to be hasty. He had to be smart about this—make no noise, leave no trace.

Once he was in the woods, he could take the hidden paths, the ones he used to walk as a child, paths that would keep him out of the sight of the hunters.

Finally, he felt the village fall into a deeper quiet. The drunken laughter had faded into murmurs, the sounds of footsteps slowing, and he knew the time had come.

The village was asleep.

Jungkook grabbed the leather bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he stepped out into the cold. His breath fogged in front of him, and he pulled his coat tighter around himself, the weight of what he was about to do settling into his bones.

He moved quickly, stepping lightly through the snow, making his way toward the forest. Each footstep felt heavier than the last, the quiet of the night amplifying his every movement.

The path to the storage hut was winding and long, and the snow seemed to grow deeper the farther he went, the trees pressing in on either side, their branches skeletal and twisted. The familiar path that had once been a place of childhood exploration now felt like a place of isolation, a desolate stretch between his past and his present. The village felt so far away, and he was so alone.

As he neared the storage hut, Jungkook could see the outline of the building through the trees. The small structure was barely more than a shack, nestled against the edge of the forest. The faint glow of lanterns flickered in the windows, and he knew the guards were inside, keeping watch over the wolves.

Jungkook crouched behind a snowbank, his heart hammering in his chest as he watched the hut, waiting for the right moment to make his move. The guards would be distracted soon enough, he hoped—fatigued from their earlier celebrations, tired from the day’s work.

He only needed a few minutes, just a few moments of opportunity.

He let out a shaky breath and pulled the leather bag closer to his chest, praying that everything would work.

When he finally saw the guards turn their backs to the hut, a momentary lapse in their vigilance, Jungkook stood and made his move. He moved swiftly through the trees, keeping to the shadows, his steps muffled by the deep snow.

His hand rested on the door of the hut as he approached it, the wood cold under his fingertips. He didn’t stop to think. He pushed it open, quietly, as if he were nothing more than a shadow himself.

Inside, the smell of blood and dampness hit him immediately. It was overpowering.

And then, he saw them.

The two wolves were lying in the corner, their fur matted with blood, their bodies shuddering in the cold. Their eyes were closed, their breathing shallow. They looked almost lifeless.

Jungkook felt his heart break anew at the sight. They were so broken, so vulnerable.

Jungkook set the bag down next to him, his hands shaking as he took in their battered forms. The russet wolf lay protectively curled around the white one, his body trembling with the effort to shield the smaller creature, its fur matted and bloodstained.

It's amber eyes flickered open, and the moment he saw Jungkook, a low growl rumbled from deep in his chest. His body tensed, every muscle ready to spring into action, and his sharp gaze never left Jungkook, a silent warning to stay away.

Jungkook froze, heart pounding in his chest, but he didn’t move. The fear that the russet wolf had brought to life inside him quickly shifted into understanding. This was a wolf, a protector, and he was afraid for the life of his companion. He wasn’t a beast, he was a guardian, willing to fight to death to protect those he loved.

The wolf’s growl grew deeper, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through the air, warning Jungkook to stay away. His body remained tense, muscles coiled and ready, eyes never leaving Jungkook as though daring him to make a move. Jungkook’s breath hitched, his pulse pounding in his ears, but he stood his ground.

He couldn’t back away now, not when he had come this far.

With a shaking breath, he took a cautious step back, his hands raised in a gesture of peace, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he said, the words fragile, the tremor in his voice betraying the fear clawing at him. “I won’t hurt you.” He lowered his gaze, feeling the weight of the wolf’s intense stare pressing against him. His throat tightened as the words he hadn’t planned to say escaped.

“I’m so sorry... for what they’ve done to you.”

His heart ached as he spoke, the weight of his apology feeling like a betrayal in itself. These creatures weren’t just animals—they were beings, beings who had been wronged, treated as prey for the village’s pride. The wolf’s eyes flickered with suspicion, but there was something else there too, something softer, as if it understood—understood that Jungkook wasn’t like the others.

Jungkook’s tears welled up again, but he quickly blinked them away. He would not let fear or sorrow control him. He was here to help, to make things right, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

For what felt like an eternity, the wolf held Jungkook’s gaze, amber eyes sharp with distrust. The tension in the air was palpable, thick and heavy, each of them measuring the other’s intent. The growl rumbled deep in the wolf’s chest, vibrating through the cold, but slowly—ever so slowly—the sound faded to a low, wary hum.

It wasn’t acceptance, but it was enough to give Jungkook a sliver of hope.

He exhaled shakily, the tightness in his chest loosening just enough for him to draw in a breath. His hands still trembled as he reached for his bag, the weight of what he was about to do pressing down on him. With slow, deliberate steps, he moved toward the wolves, his heart pounding in his chest.

When he spoke, his voice was soft, tentative, as though he was afraid the wrong word would shatter the fragile peace between them.

“Do you understand me?” His words felt clumsy, awkward, but he couldn’t help it.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know much about your kind. I don’t want to offend you. I just… I need to help.”

Jungkook’s words hung in the air, his own self-doubt making his stomach churn. He couldn’t help but wonder if the russet wolf even understood, if the words mattered. He had no knowledge of their language, no way to bridge the divide between them.

All he had was his sincerity, the desperate need to do something—anything—to make things right.

As he moved closer to the injured wolves, the russet wolf’s gaze never left him. It was a mixture of wariness and something else, something almost like... acceptance. Or at least, the hope of it.

The wolf’s eyes remained fixed on him, cautious and calculating. Jungkook’s heart raced as it watched him closely, his posture still tense. But after what felt like an eternity, the wolf slowly, almost reluctantly, dipped his head—a subtle nod that felt like the smallest shred of trust offered.

Jungkook felt a surge of relief, his breath catching in his throat. He didn’t need more than that. It was a sign—fragile, uncertain—but it was a sign. Despite everything, despite the pain and betrayal this wolf had endured at the hands of the hunters, he was willing to acknowledge Jungkook. He was willing to communicate.

That was enough. It made his chest ache with a strange mixture of hope and sorrow.

“I brought food… and things to help with your injuries,” Jungkook whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of his words. His hands, still shaking, fumbled slightly as he reached into the bag. “Please… let me tend to your wounds. I don’t want to see you suffer any longer.”

There was a vulnerability in his plea, an unspoken promise that he would do whatever it took to ease their pain. He wasn’t a hunter, wasn’t their enemy. He just wanted to help—to do something, anything, to undo the wrongs they’d suffered.

His eyes softened as he looked at the russet wolf, silently begging for the chance to make things right, even if it was just for this moment.

Notes:

Hey guys !!

Hope you like the story so far. I'm really just writing it for myself ah ah. I have no idea how many chapters this fic will have to be honest. I've never written a fanfiction before (or anything really) but i've read enough works on AO3 to tell you that it will definitely be more than ten.
I think.
I'll try to update as soon as I can, trust me I know the frustration. I have so many fics bookmarked that are yet to be updated omg.
But english is not my first language so sometimes it takes me a while to get the phrasing right.

But take care and see you soon !

Chapter 3: Unchained

Summary:

Jungkook tends to the injured wolves

The russet wolf continued to study him intently, his amber eyes never leaving Jungkook’s face. Every second stretched painfully long, as if the very air around them had thickened with the weight of the wolf’s mistrust.

Jungkook held his breath, unsure if the creature would lash out at any moment. But then, after what felt like an eternity, the russet wolf’s head dipped in the slightest motion—a reluctant, cautious nod. It was small, almost imperceptible, but to Jungkook, it felt like a lifeline.

A wave of relief washed over him, but it was fleeting. He moved closer, as quietly as he could, careful not to make any sudden movements. His hands were shaking, but he reached for his bag, each movement slow and deliberate. His fingers fumbled with the straps, the bag feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds in that moment.

He pulled out the food first—simple rations he had gathered. Kneeling beside the russet wolf, he placed it carefully near his nose. It was a small offering, but the gesture felt like a fragile bridge between them, one that he hoped would convey his intentions.

His eyes flickered back to the white wolf.

The sight of the pale creature was unbearable. The white wolf lay limp, his body pale and bloodied, breathing shallowly. The bloodstained fur clung to its frame like a harsh reminder of the violence he had endured. Jungkook’s chest tightened, his heart breaking at the sight.

It was a pain so deep it was almost physical, the weight of their suffering settling in his bones.

The russet wolf, despite the food now resting at its side, did not look away from his injured companion. His amber gaze flickered to Jungkook for a brief moment, almost as if to acknowledge the offering. But it was fleeting—his focus never strayed far from the white wolf.

Jungkook saw the quiet promise in the wolf’s eyes, the silent vow of protection. The wolf would not let anyone, even in his weakened state, hurt his packmate. Jungkook’s heart ached with an understanding that ran deep. The russet wasn’t just a protector in body, but in spirit—its loyalty unwavering, even in the face of everything they had endured.

Jungkook swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper as he spoke again.

"I’m here to help. I won’t let them hurt you any more." The words felt inadequate, but they were all he had to offer as he reached for the small bandages he had brought, the tiny flicker of hope rising inside him.

Jungkook noticed the chains still binding the wolves, heavy and cruel, and his heart sank. He couldn’t leave them like this—not after everything they had already endured. He knew this moment was just as crucial as his offer of food and healing.

He was going to remove the chains.

But that meant touching the wolves and Jungkook wasn't sure they would allow it. After all, they would have every right not to, having suffered at the hands of hunter, of humans just like Jungkook.

The russet wolf’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression a mix of confusion and caution. Perhaps he thought Jungkook was only here to tend to their wounds and then walk away, leaving them shackled in their pain. But this was more than just offering aid.

This was a silent promise—a sign that Jungkook was willing to trust them, and in turn, he asked for their trust. He was putting his life in their paws, hoping they would see his intentions were pure, that he wasn’t just another hunter.

“This will hurt, I’m sorry,” Jungkook whispered, his voice trembling as he worked up the courage to act.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

The russet wolf’s gaze remained fixed on him, still tense, but there was something softer now—an acknowledgment. It was clear that the wolf was willing to let him try, but there was an underlying fear, a warning not to harm the white wolf.

Jungkook’s eyes flickered to the white wolf, the creature he had sensed the russet wolf cared for deeply. His heart broke at the sight of the pale body, fragile and battered, his fur stained with the blood of their capture. The russet wolf had done his best to protect the white one, but he was still so vulnerable.

With a slow breath, Jungkook decided the white wolf would be his first priority. He wanted to ease his pain, to give him a fighting chance.

He moved carefully toward the white wolf, avoiding any sudden movements, mindful of the russet wolf’s watchful gaze. The wolf didn’t growl, but his eyes followed every motion, gauging Jungkook’s intentions.

Jungkook slowly reached for the chain around the white wolf’s neck, his fingers trembling. He pressed his palm gently against the cool, matted fur, feeling the delicate rise and fall of his chest. The wolf’s breath hitched in response, a slight tremor running through his body, and Jungkook’s heart ached with the knowledge of how much he had suffered.

"I’m here," he whispered again, his voice a fragile promise.

"I won’t let them hurt you anymore."

As he began to loosen the chain, he felt the weight of what he was doing. This was an act of trust, an act of compassion. And no matter how scared he was, no matter how uncertain, Jungkook knew he couldn’t leave them here.

He wouldn’t let them die at the hands of people who saw them as nothing but trophies.

His hands shook as he worked on the chains, but the tears wouldn’t stop, falling freely down his cheeks as he carefully attended to the wolves. His heart felt like it was in his throat, his emotions too tangled to make sense of. Each movement, each breath, felt like an eternity as his fingers trembled over the wounds.

The russet wolf’s amber eyes never left him, flicking between the task at hand and Jungkook’s face. There was a rawness to those eyes—a guarded vulnerability that Jungkook couldn’t ignore.

Though the russet wolf remained tense, his body rigid with the instinct to protect the white wolf, Jungkook noticed the subtle shifts. The way the growl in the russet wolf’s throat faded, how the wariness in his stance softened ever so slightly. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes.

Jungkook’s heart cracked open with the realization that even in their suffering, the wolves were aware. They knew, somewhere deep inside, that he wasn’t here to hurt them. He wasn’t like the others.

Once the white wolf was freed, Jungkook turned toward the russet wolf. His hands trembled, hesitant, as he reached for the wolf’s neck, still gripped by a lingering fear. The wolf's eyes bore into him, a silent warning to proceed with caution.

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat as he saw the damage the chains had done to his fur—deep gouges, raw, bloodied patches where the metal had scraped and cut into his flesh. His heart shattered at the sight.

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook whispered, his voice breaking.

Tears welled up, his face contorting in sorrow as he fought to keep his composure.

Slowly, he worked to unfasten the chains, his fingers fumbling, as the wolf’s body trembled with the effort to endure the agony. The wolf fought, not against Jungkook, but against the overwhelming pain, his every movement heavy and slow.

The chains binding his paws were thicker, more reinforced than the white wolf’s, and Jungkook could feel the weight of his burden, the cruelty that had been forced upon him.

The hunters had known the russet wolf was stronger, more dominant. And so, they had shackled him tighter, cruelly binding his power to ensure he wouldn’t fight back. Jungkook’s tears fell freely now, each drop a mixture of grief and guilt for the horrors he couldn’t undo.

As he worked, his fingers accidentally brushed the wolf’s fur, soft against the rough patches of his skin. The wolf froze, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest. But instead of pulling away, the russet wolf remained still, letting Jungkook continue.

His body was stiff, tense with wariness.

But he allowed the touch.

Jungkook’s heart thundered in his chest, both terrified and comforted by the intimacy of the moment. He didn’t realize how much he needed to offer something gentle, something kind to the wolf, until the action was already done.

He quickly pulled his hand away, gasping in embarrassment, his cheeks burning.

“Oh god! I’m so sorry,” Jungkook stammered, his voice quivering with panic.

“I didn’t mean to touch you like that. I wasn’t thinking—please forgive me.”

The russet wolf didn’t growl this time. It simply watched Jungkook, its expression unreadable, as if taking in his apology. Jungkook didn’t wait for a response. He finished untying the chains as quickly and carefully as he could, his breath shallow, hoping that with every movement, he wasn’t doing more harm than good.

Once the final chain fell away, he sat back on his heels, his hands shaking as he took in the freed wolf. The russet wolf was still tense, still unsure, but the bonds were gone.

Jungkook whispered a quiet, “There. You’re free now.”

The words were barely audible, but they carried the weight of everything he’d hoped for, everything he wished he could give.

Once the russet wolf was freed, he didn’t hesitate. His instincts kicked in, and he immediately moved to nuzzle the white wolf, curling around him protectively, as if shielding him from further harm. Jungkook watched the scene with a mixture of awe and sorrow.

There was a bond between them—deep, unspoken, and undeniable. Even now, in their weakened state, they cared for each other with a ferocity that he couldn’t help but respect.

Jungkook took a moment to steady his breath, hands shaking with the gravity of what he was about to do. He prepared his salves and bandages, laying them out in front of him with a practiced hand. The russet wolf, still tense and wary, watched him closely, his amber eyes never straying far from Jungkook.

The human, though fragile and vulnerable in his own way, didn’t flinch.

He knew the wolves were equally fragile at that moment.

He approached the russet wolf first, his heart thudding in his chest. The chains had left deep marks, raw and bleeding. There was no time to waste, but every part of him was screaming at him to slow down, to be careful. He applied the salve as gently as he could, trying to soothe the wolf’s inflamed skin, but the pain in his eyes was evident—pain, and fear.

Jungkook’s eyes blurred with tears as he worked, the weight of what he was doing settling heavily on his chest. He hated that this was all he could offer—just a human, trying to heal creatures he barely understood. The russet wolf’s body trembled, but it stayed still, as if trusting Jungkook to take away the pain.

Moving to the white wolf, Jungkook’s hands were even more unsteady. The wolf’s body was covered in wounds, and Jungkook could tell just how weak he was. His breaths were shallow, and his fur was stained with blood, some of it his own and some of it from the other wolf. As Jungkook applied the salve and wrapped the bandages around his injuries, he felt a deep sorrow for the creatures before him.

The white wolf didn’t react much, though his gaze, though weak, locked onto Jungkook’s as if understanding the care being given.

And what a gaze it was.

The white wolf's eyes were a deep, mesmerizing emerald green, gleaming even in the dim light of the hut. For the first time since Jungkook had entered, the wolf truly looked at him—acknowledging him.

Despite the overwhelming pain he must have been in, he had found the strength to lift his head, to meet Jungkook’s eyes. Fear lingered in his gaze, laced with exhaustion, almost as if he had already accepted his fate. And yet, beneath it all, there was something else—a quiet willingness to trust.

A silent gratitude.

When he finished as best he could, Jungkook let out a slow, exhausted breath. His heart felt heavy as he looked at the two wolves, now both covered in the salves and bandages he had managed to apply. The wounds were still there, deep and raw, but at least now they were treated, even if it wasn’t enough.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand, fighting back the lump in his throat. The task had been more than he had expected, and yet, it still felt like he hadn’t done nearly enough. The pain in the wolves’ eyes hadn’t gone away, their suffering wasn’t over.

He could only hope that what he had done, what little he had been able to offer, would make a difference.

It wasn’t enough, but it was something.

Jungkook felt a strange mix of hope and guilt flood through him. He had done what he could. Now, it was up to them to recover. And somehow, he would make sure they did.

He wouldn’t abandon them.

Not now, not ever.

He turned his gaze to the russet wolf, who was now lying down, still alert but no longer growling. The white wolf remained still beside him, but there was a flicker of recognition in his green eyes—something akin to trust.

Jungkook’s heart swelled with an unfamiliar emotion.

Hope.

It was fragile, easily crushed, but in that moment, as he knelt near the two wolves, he knew one thing for sure.

He wouldn’t let them die here.

He would fight for them, no matter the cost.

Jungkook took a shaky breath, forcing himself to focus. The wolves were free. Their wounds were treated. Now, they needed to escape.

He glanced toward the door, listening intently for any sign of movement outside. The village was quiet, the air heavy with the deep stillness of the sleeping town. Even the guards, normally stationed near the hut, were nowhere in sight, distracted by their own exhaustion or complacency.

It was the perfect time to move.

Turning back to the wolves, he hesitated, unsure if they would even listen to him—but they were watching, their sharp eyes locked onto him. The russet wolf still lay curled protectively around the white one, his muscles tense, his body still on edge despite the relief of being freed from the silver chains. But there was a change in both of them already. Their breathing was steadier, their eyes a little clearer now that the silver no longer burned against their skin.

"You need to eat," Jungkook urged gently, his voice barely above a whisper. He motioned toward the food he had laid out, his hands still trembling slightly.

"It’ll help you regain some strength before we leave."

The russet wolf didn’t move at first. His amber eyes remained locked onto Jungkook, sharp and assessing, as if he were still debating whether to trust him. The tension in his frame was palpable, his body coiled like a spring, ready to lunge at the slightest hint of betrayal.

But after a few long moments, he shifted.

Without looking away from Jungkook, he nudged the white wolf beside him—an unspoken gesture, quiet but firm.

Eat.

The white wolf, still weak and shivering, hesitated. His pale fur, once pristine, was full of blood and dirt, his movements sluggish. But eventually, he obeyed, lowering his muzzle to the food. His bites were small at first, careful, as if his body had forgotten how to accept kindness.

The russet wolf watched him closely, his muscles still taut with tension, but seeing the smaller wolf eat must have reassured him. He finally relented, turning his gaze to the food Jungkook had provided. With one last glance at the human—cautious, searching—he lowered his own head and began to eat as well.

Jungkook let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. They were eating. That meant they were accepting his help, if only for now. It wasn’t trust—not yet—but it was a start.

Jungkook exhaled, the knot in his chest loosening just slightly.

He moved to sit down farther away from them, giving them space as they ate, watching the slow but steady way they took in the nourishment. The sight warmed something in him—hope, maybe. They were still in danger, but this moment? This meant they had a chance.

Jungkook hesitated for a moment before speaking, his voice soft but steady.

“My name is Jungkook,” he murmured, watching the two wolves carefully.

“I’m not a hunter. I never was.”

The russet wolf’s amber eyes snapped up to meet his, sharp and unreadable, assessing every word that left Jungkook’s lips. The white wolf, though weaker, was listening too, his ears twitching slightly at the sound of Jungkook’s voice.

Jungkook swallowed, fingers tightening around the hem of his cloak. He felt small beneath their unwavering gazes, but he forced himself to push through the vulnerability. They needed to trust him.

“My grandmother…” He exhaled slowly, a bitter sort of fondness curling in his chest.

“She used to tell me stories about shifters. About your kind.” He offered a hesitant smile, though it was tinged with sadness.

“She said you were strong—that you lived in packs, that you protected each other no matter what. That you were more than just wolves.”

The russet wolf’s ears flicked at his words, his intense gaze never leaving Jungkook’s face. Jungkook’s fingers curled into his lap as he let out a small, shaky breath.

“But she never told me much else. Maybe she was afraid to… or maybe she just didn’t know more. Either way…” His voice dropped to a whisper, the weight of his words settling heavy in the cold air.

“You’re the first shifters I’ve ever seen.”

The room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing. The russet wolf held his gaze, unreadable yet no longer as wary, while the white wolf blinked at him, exhaustion still heavy in his form. Jungkook wasn’t sure if they believed him. But he hoped—prayed—that they did.

The wolves continued eating, but their focus never wavered. They were listening—truly listening. And for some reason, that made Jungkook’s chest feel tight.

"I don’t know if you can ever trust me," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper,

"but I swear, I’ll get you out of here. I won’t let them hurt you again."

The russet wolf stopped eating for a moment, his head lifting ever so slightly. His piercing gaze met Jungkook’s, searching, weighing his words. Jungkook held his breath, waiting—until, after what felt like an eternity, the wolf gave the barest, almost imperceptible nod.

Jungkook let out a slow, shaky breath.

It wasn’t much.

But it was enough.

As the last scraps of food disappeared, Jungkook watched closely, noting the way their breathing had steadied, the way their bodies no longer trembled as violently. Already, the difference was visible—their strength was returning, even if only in small measures.

Then, slowly, the russet wolf shifted first, pushing himself up onto unsteady legs. His muscles tensed as he adjusted to the movement, a quiet grunt of pain escaping him, but he did not falter. He shook out his fur, thick and dark against the dim light of the hut, and straightened to his full height.

Jungkook inhaled sharply.

Even weakened, even injured, the wolf was magnificent.

The thick russet fur that covered his body gleamed faintly in the low light, the deep hues blending into something untamed and wild. His form was powerful, built for strength and command, but what captivated Jungkook most was his eyes. Those sharp, intelligent amber eyes that burned with something fierce, something unbreakable. Even here, after everything, the wolf stood tall, unyielding, a warrior refusing to bow.

Beside him, the white wolf followed suit, more hesitant in his movements but just as determined. He lifted himself carefully, his limbs trembling from exhaustion, but he, too, refused to collapse.

Jungkook’s breath hitched as he took in the sight of him fully.

Where the russet wolf was all fire and dominance, the white wolf was something ethereal, something otherworldly. His fur, though still stained with blood and dirt, was stunningly pale, the color of fresh snow beneath the moonlight. He was leaner, his build slightly less imposing than the other’s, but no less striking.

His beauty was softer, more delicate, like winter’s first frost. But it was his eyes that held Jungkook frozen in place—deep green, endless and stormy, filled with a quiet resilience.

They were both taller than him now, standing at their full height, their powerful forms towering over his own. For the first time, Jungkook truly understood. These were not just wolves.

They were something greater.

His heart pounded against his ribs, part in awe, part in fear. They could tear him apart if they wanted to—there was no denying their strength, no mistaking their power. And yet, they stood there, watching him, waiting.

Jungkook swallowed hard, his hands clenched at his sides. They were ready. Even through the pain, even with the wounds still fresh upon their bodies, they would fight. They would not let themselves be caged again.

And neither would he.

Jungkook exhaled slowly, steadying himself. The weight of his decision, of what he was doing, settled deep in his chest, but there was no hesitation left. He had made his choice the moment he stepped into this hut.

Lifting his gaze, he met the wolves' eyes—those piercing amber and stormy green depths that studied him in return. They were standing now, their bodies stronger despite the lingering pain. It should have made him nervous, how easily they towered over him, how they could overpower him without effort. But it didn’t.

Because they were waiting.

For him.

Jungkook swallowed, tightening his grip on his bag before speaking.

"I'm going to get you out of here," he said, voice soft but firm.

"I'll lead you past the edge of the village, to the unmarked lands. Past that, you’ll be safe."

The russet wolf's ears flicked forward slightly, a silent acknowledgment, while the white wolf remained still, watching Jungkook with those deep green eyes that felt as if they could see straight through him.

"I know it’s far," Jungkook continued, shifting his weight.

"It might take a few hours, maybe more. But I don’t want you to get lost." He let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking his head at himself.

"I know that sounds stupid—you’re wolves. Your sense of smell is probably ten times better than mine, but I don’t want to take the chance."

The russet wolf huffed, almost like he was amused. Jungkook wasn’t sure if he imagined it, but the thought made his lips twitch into the smallest of smiles.

"I just… I want to make sure you get out safely," he admitted, more to himself than to them.

"I don’t want to fail you."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, after a long pause, the russet wolf slowly inclined his head—just the faintest dip, but it was enough. Jungkook felt his breath catch in his throat.

Trust.

It was fragile, barely there, but it was real.

He gave them a nod in return, then took a step back toward the door.

"I need to check outside," he explained, keeping his voice low.

"See if the guards are still there. Stay here, and stay quiet. I won’t be long."

The wolves didn't move, but their eyes followed him, tracking his every motion. Their bodies remained tense, poised for action if necessary, but neither of them made a sound. They were listening. Jungkook took one last look at them before inhaling deeply and turning toward the door, heart pounding as he prepared to step back into the cold night.

When he stepped outside, his breath was clouding in the icy night air as he carefully scanned the surroundings. His heart pounded against his ribs, every nerve in his body on high alert. The guards had been stationed outside when he arrived—he was sure of it—but now…

Nothing.

His pulse stuttered.

The night was still, eerily quiet except for the distant howl of the wind and the occasional creak of tree branches in the cold. The torches that had been lit earlier were still burning low, but there were no figures standing by them, no heavy boots crunching through the snow.

The guards were gone.

Jungkook exhaled, his breath shaky but relieved. It was pure luck, nothing else. Maybe they assumed no one would be foolish enough to try anything at this hour. Maybe they had just grown careless. Either way, Jungkook wasn’t going to waste this chance.

He hurried back inside, closing the door as quietly as he could behind him. The wolves immediately looked up, their bodies tense, ready for whatever news he brought.

"They're gone," Jungkook whispered, still catching his breath.

"The guards left for the night."

The russet wolf’s ears twitched slightly, his sharp amber eyes watching Jungkook closely, as if assessing whether or not he was certain. The white wolf, though still weak, raised his head a little higher.

"This is our chance," Jungkook continued, stepping further inside.

"We have to move now. The second we leave this hut, we need to go straight to the edge of the forest. No stopping, no hesitation. If we’re lucky, no one will see us."

The white wolf tilted his head slightly, his deep green eyes locked onto Jungkook’s face. The pale fur along his back ruffled slightly, and Jungkook realized something.

A perfect color against the snow.

Jungkook gave a small, breathy laugh, shaking his head in amazement.

"You’re going to blend right in," he murmured.

"Your fur—no one will see you in all this snow."

The white wolf let out a soft huff, something almost amused in the sound, and Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, even in the midst of his nerves. But then his gaze flickered to the russet wolf.

"You, on the other hand…" Jungkook trailed off, eyes lingering on the rich, earthy hues of the wolf’s fur—deep reds and browns that stood out starkly against the pale surroundings.

"You’re not exactly inconspicuous."

The russet wolf blinked at him, unimpressed.

Jungkook bit his lip. "You’ll have to be fast," he said, voice serious again.

"Once we’re out there, don’t stop. If anyone sees movement, they won’t have time to recognize what it is if we’re quick enough."

The russet wolf let out a low chuff, the sound carrying something unreadable—maybe exasperation, maybe understanding. Either way, he gave a slight shake of his fur before fixing Jungkook with a steady, unwavering stare.

Jungkook met that gaze, determination solidifying in his chest.

This was it.

"Ready?" he whispered.

He moved quickly, shutting off the dim lantern inside the hut before turning toward the door. His heart was pounding so loudly he could hear it in his ears, each beat a frantic reminder that they had no time to waste.

With a deep breath, he grabbed the door and pulled it open, wide. The cold night air rushed in, biting at his skin, but he didn’t care. He turned back toward the wolves, his voice barely a whisper.

“Go.”

Notes:

Hey !

Hope you liked the chapter as much as I did !
I can't wait for Jungkook to meet the whole pack, but i won't lie, it will take a lot more chapters ah ah.
I'm trying to make this as slow as possible, what can i say, i'm a sucker for a good slow-burn. There's just nothing better than stories with slow developing relationships in my opinion.

Since i'm currently unemployed (sad I know) I think I'll be able to keep updating this story several times a week. Like I mentioned, that's a story I had started to write for myself. That means I have a few scenes already written that just need editing !

Take care !

Chapter 4: One Last Look Back

Summary:

Jungkook and the wolves run into the night

"Ready?" he whispered.

He moved quickly, shutting off the dim lantern inside the hut before turning toward the door. His heart was pounding so loudly he could hear it in his ears, each beat a frantic reminder that they had no time to waste.

With a deep breath, he grabbed the door and pulled it open, wide. The cold night air rushed in, biting at his skin, but he didn’t care. He turned back toward the wolves, his voice barely a whisper.

“Go.”

--

The response was immediate.

The white wolf sprang forward first, his movements still hindered by exhaustion but graceful nonetheless. His pale fur seemed to melt into the snow as he dashed into the open, disappearing into the night. The russet wolf followed close behind, muscles coiling before he launched himself forward, his powerful form cutting through the dark like a shadow.

Jungkook barely had a moment to process before he bolted after them.

But he wasn’t a wolf.

He wasn’t fast, wasn’t built for this.

His boots sank into the thick snow, slowing him down as he struggled to keep up. His breath came in sharp gasps, the cold burning his lungs, and with every step, the distance between him and the wolves grew.

They were ahead, far ahead—so much faster, even in their weakened state.

And that was okay.

Jungkook had expected it. He had freed them. That was the point. If they ran, if they disappeared into the safety of the trees, then he had done what he set out to do.

Still, something ached deep in his chest.

Because he had thought—no, he had assumed—that this would be the last time he’d see them. That the moment they reached the forest’s edge, they’d vanish, running as far away from this place as they could. As they should.

It would have made sense.

And yet—

Jungkook stumbled to a stop, his breath catching in his throat.

They were waiting for him.

Both wolves stood just at the edge of the forest, their large forms silhouetted against the pale snow, amber and green eyes glowing softly in the moonlight.

They were waiting.

For him.

Jungkook felt something in his chest tighten, something raw and overwhelming. His vision blurred for a second, and he realized, belatedly, that his eyes were stinging again. He quickly blinked the tears away before they could fall, biting the inside of his cheek as he forced himself to breathe evenly.

Why?

Why hadn’t they just left?

He had freed them. He had given them a chance to escape, to survive. And still, instead of disappearing into the safety of the woods, they stood there, watching him, waiting.

The russet wolf tilted his head slightly, amber eyes unreadable but softer than before. The white wolf, still visibly tired, stood a little closer to his companion, his deep grey gaze locked onto Jungkook’s face.

Jungkook swallowed against the emotion clogging his throat.

He had never expected kindness. Not from anyone.

And yet, here they were.

Silent. Waiting.

For him.

The night stretched out before them, quiet and endless.

Jungkook walked ahead, his boots crunching softly against the snow as he led the wolves away from the village. The air was thick with silence, the kind that pressed against his chest, heavy and suffocating. He supposed that was to be expected.

What could he possibly say?

What words existed that could make this better?

He glanced at the wolves behind him—two figures moving through the snow with silent grace. Even injured, they were strong, resilient, their bodies built for the wild. And yet, they had suffered so much. He had seen the pain in their eyes, had touched the wounds left behind by chains that never should have bound them in the first place.

Anything he said would feel meaningless.

So, he said nothing.

The cold bit at his exposed skin, creeping into his bones like ice spreading through his veins. His coat—ripped and thin—was useless against the bitter wind. His fingers had long since gone numb, and his body trembled with each step. He clenched his jaw, trying to will the shaking away, but it was useless.

He hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten until the russet wolf suddenly stopped.

Jungkook noticed too late, taking a few extra steps forward before realizing the warm presence behind him was no longer moving. He turned, confused, his breath coming out in uneven puffs of white mist.

The russet wolf stood still, amber eyes locked onto him with quiet intensity. His ears twitched, then, without warning, he took a step closer and nudged Jungkook’s arm with his snout.

Jungkook flinched at the unexpected touch.

It wasn’t aggressive, wasn’t demanding—just a firm, deliberate push against his arm.

Warm.

Solid.

Jungkook blinked, his brain sluggish from the cold, unable to comprehend what had just happened. He looked at the wolf, lips parting to speak, but nothing came out.

He hadn’t even realized how blue his lips had turned, how violently he was shivering, how he could no longer feel his fingers.

The russet wolf huffed, a sound that almost—almost—seemed exasperated. Then, before Jungkook could react, he moved even closer, pressing his warm body against Jungkook.

Jungkook gasped softly at the sudden heat. The warmth of the wolf’s fur was overwhelming, sinking into his frozen skin, chasing away the biting cold. He shuddered, not from chill this time, but from sheer relief.

Still, he hesitated.

“I—I’m fine,” he whispered, though the words held no conviction. His voice shook, breath still uneven.

The wolf gave him a look—one that was oddly unimpressed for a creature that wasn’t human. He didn’t move away. If anything, he pressed closer, as if silently telling Jungkook to stop being so damn stubborn and accept the warmth being offered.

Jungkook swallowed. His pride, his instinct to refuse help—it all felt ridiculous in the face of this.

So, slowly, cautiously, he let himself lean into the russet wolf’s warmth.

Just a little.

Just enough to stop shaking.

The cold was relentless, gnawing at his bones, but the russet wolf's warmth was a balm Jungkook had never expected. Still, his body was shaking with the lingering chill, the frost of the night creeping into his very soul. With a soft, resigned breath, he forced his trembling arms up and into the russet wolf's thick fur.

The sensation of fur beneath his fingers was like a soft, comforting embrace. The warmth of the wolf's body seeped into him, the heat radiating outward from where their bodies met, spreading through his frozen limbs. Jungkook let out a soft sigh of relief, a sound that seemed to come from deep within him, escaping without his consent.

The wolf, as though sensing the relief in his breath, let out a pleased rumble—a deep, vibrating sound that seemed to resonate in Jungkook's chest. The sound was soft, but it carried something more—a reassurance, a quiet acceptance. The wolf shifted slightly, nuzzling Jungkook’s side with his head, as if telling him he was safe now.

Jungkook didn't resist the comforting presence.

The warmth was unlike anything he had ever felt before, so enveloping and protective.

But then, just as the moment of solace seemed to settle, Jungkook felt a nudge at his back. He turned his head slightly, his breath still coming in ragged pulls, and saw the white wolf. The pale creature, still somewhat weak, had moved closer.

With one slow, deliberate movement, the white wolf pressed himself up against Jungkook’s back, aligning himself between Jungkook and the russet wolf. It was as if the wolves were creating a barrier around him, a shield against the cold, the night, and the dangers that lurked within it.

The feeling of their bodies close to his was overwhelming. The russet wolf was warm, strong, his presence grounding. The white wolf, though less imposing, felt just as comforting—gentle and calming. Jungkook’s heart thudded in his chest, emotions too tangled for him to sort through.

He should’ve felt overwhelmed, claustrophobic even, but instead, he found himself leaning into the warmth, the weight of their bodies pushing him further into their protective embrace.

Despite the comfort it brought, a wave of guilt surged within him. He wasn’t used to being the one protected, the one taken care of. He had always been the one to offer warmth, to help those in need.

He should’ve been fine on his own.

Shouldn’t have needed this.

Shouldn’t have accepted their help.

“I’m fine,” he whispered, almost desperately, as though he could convince both himself and the wolves. His voice was unsteady, weak, but he couldn’t stop the words from leaving his lips.

“I’m used to being cold. You don’t have to do this.”

He tried to move away, to create space between himself and the wolves. It wasn’t out of rejection—it wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate their warmth or their presence—but because the guilt was suffocating.

He didn’t deserve this kindness.

Not after everything his people had done to them.

The moment he shifted, trying to step back, the russet wolf’s body stiffened. The low growl that rumbled deep in his chest was immediate, a warning to Jungkook that was clear and undeniable. The white wolf, too, tensed at the motion, his hackles raising in a subtle but unmistakable sign of protection. The russet wolf’s amber eyes locked onto Jungkook, narrowing, his stance shifting as though daring Jungkook to try moving again.

Jungkook froze, his heart skipping a beat as the growl deepened, vibrating through the air like a warning bell. The whites of the wolves' eyes flashed in the dim light, fierce and unwavering.

It was a command, not a suggestion.

Stay.

The white wolf, almost instinctively, pressed further into his back, while the russet wolf’s snout nudged at his arm, forcing him to remain within their embrace. Their presence was firm and final, a shield from the cold and the night, but also a protection from his own guilt.

Jungkook’s breath caught, his pulse racing with a mix of emotions. The intensity in their eyes—both wolves watching him, protective and certain—was enough to steal the words from his lips. His body was caught between guilt and gratitude, torn between his natural instinct to push away and the overwhelming desire to stay, to accept their comfort.

The russet wolf’s growl softened, his amber gaze unwavering, and Jungkook felt the soft pressure against his side. It wasn’t a threat now, but an undeniable promise. A promise that he was safe, and that no matter what, he wasn’t alone. The white wolf, still pressed against his back, nuzzled him softly as though to reassure him further.

Jungkook closed his eyes for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts, but there was no denying it—he didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to run from the only comfort he had ever received, not from these wolves who had risked their lives to trust him.

Sighing, he finally allowed his body to relax again, sinking into the warmth of the wolves’ embrace. They weren’t just protecting him from the cold. They were offering something more.

Protection.

Safety.

Trust.

And for the first time in a long while, Jungkook allowed himself to simply be held.

He had never felt the warmth of fur quite like this. It was so soft, so comforting, he almost didn’t want to leave it. The russet wolf’s coat was thick, dense, radiating heat, and the white wolf’s was like snow itself—fluffy, light, but warm in its own way. Jungkook took a deep breath, letting the sensation wash over him, his body finally relaxing. He hadn’t realized just how cold he had been until the warmth of the wolves seeped into his bones.

He sighed softly, his voice trembling slightly from the overwhelming comfort they offered.

“Thank you,” he whispered, more to himself than to them, but he knew they could hear him.

“I’m not cold anymore.” He chuckled faintly, almost embarrassed by how much he had needed their warmth.

He shifted a little, the russet wolf’s fur soft beneath his fingers as he reached down to adjust his coat. He couldn’t help but reach out for them again, his hand brushing through the russet wolf’s fur, the warmth instantly enveloping him once more.

“Your fur,” Jungkook murmured,

“it’s so soft. And warm… I’ve never felt anything like it.”

The russet wolf huffed softly, and the white wolf let out a low, contented noise, almost as if to acknowledge the praise. Jungkook felt a small smile tug at his lips. It seemed to please them, the recognition. It was comforting to know that despite everything they had been through, they were still capable of understanding such small things.

As they walked side by side, the wolves pressing close to him, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel like he was part of something larger, something more meaningful than the world he had known. The cold seemed to recede further with each step, their warmth pushing back the chill of the night. Jungkook kept his pace steady, knowing they needed to get to the edge of the forest, but he also couldn’t help but feel that he had to talk to them, to share more of himself.

“I used to listen to my grandmother,” he began slowly, glancing between the two wolves.

“She told me stories about shifters, about wolves like you… Her voice would change when she spoke about them, like she was afraid, but also… reverent.” His voice trailed off, the memories coming back to him with bittersweet clarity.

“She said you were more than just animals. That you were guardians. Protectors. That you had your own ways, your own world.”

He paused, unsure of how to explain it further. The words were difficult to shape, the memories too tangled in his mind.

“I never understood it all, really. But I believed her. Even when no one else did.” He hesitated, letting the silence stretch for a moment before continuing.

“And when I was younger, I would hear the hunters talk. They always spoke about shifters like you as something to be afraid of. Monsters, dangerous creatures that needed to be hunted down and killed.” Jungkook shook his head, letting out a sigh.

“I knew that wasn’t true. But I couldn’t convince anyone else. I couldn’t change their minds.” He gave a small, almost bitter laugh.

“I wasn’t like the others. I didn’t want to be a hunter. They wanted me to join them, to prove my worth, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to live like that. I didn’t want to be the one hurting creatures like you.”

He paused again, swallowed hard, and tried to focus on the path ahead, though his mind drifted back to his village. To the whispers that followed him, the cold glances, the ridicule.

“They called me weak. A coward. Said I wasn’t worthy of being part of the village. And... then there was Sungil.”

His voice faltered at the mention of the name, the weight of it heavy on his tongue. He felt his chest tighten, his throat closing up as the memories of the man—no, the monster—flooded his mind.

“Sungil… He’s one of the hunters. But he’s different from the others,” Jungkook said, the words feeling too sharp, too painful to speak.

“He’s cruel. He’s always been cruel to me. But it’s not just because I didn’t want to hunt.” Jungkook’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as his heart began to pound.

“It’s because he sees me as nothing more than something to own.”

He closed his eyes briefly, trying to push back the wave of panic that surged at the thought of the man. He had never shared this with anyone before, but something about the wolves made him want to speak. Want to release the burden of keeping it all inside.

He couldn’t keep pretending it didn’t hurt.

“I don’t know why he chose me,” Jungkook continued, his voice growing quieter, tinged with an almost defeated edge.

“But he… He’d make these comments. Calling me pretty. Saying I was his.” He felt his face flush with a heat that had nothing to do with the warmth of the wolves.

“It makes me feel so small. Like I’m nothing more than an object. But he’s so much stronger than me. Older. He has this power over me that I can’t escape.”

Jungkook swallowed thickly, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke.

“He... he’ll say things, like ‘You belong to me,’ or ‘You’re too beautiful to be free.’ And then he’ll touch me. Hold me in ways I can’t escape from, and I’m too scared to even move. I just freeze.” His breathing became more erratic as he spoke, and his heart pounded louder, the words pouring out in a rush now that they had started.

“I don’t want to be like this,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I want to run. To escape. To be free from him and the village. But I can’t. Every time I try, I freeze. I just want to go somewhere far away, somewhere safe. But I can’t.”

He turned his head slightly to look at the wolves, his eyes wet with the unshed tears he refused to let fall.

“I wish I could be brave like you. I wish I had the strength to run away, to never look back.”

He didn’t expect them to answer, and yet, as he spoke, he felt a strange sense of relief wash over him. For the first time, he wasn’t carrying this burden alone. The wolves didn’t judge him, didn’t make him feel weak. They were just there—listening, understanding in their quiet way.

And for the first time in a long while, Jungkook let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could find the courage to run.

The journey to the edge of the human territory felt like it stretched on forever. Hours passed, and though the wolves' pace had steadied, it was clear that they were still far from fully recovered. Their movements, while much more sure than before, carried an undercurrent of weariness.

They had been through so much, and yet, they were pushing forward, their resolve unbroken. Jungkook kept a steady pace, feeling his legs grow sore, the cold still gnawing at him, but it was nothing compared to the weight of the journey he had embarked on with the wolves.

By the time they reached the border, the first streaks of dawn were just beginning to break across the sky, painting it in soft hues of light pink and soft orange. The forest opened up here, where the unmarked lands met the edge of human territory, and Jungkook could feel a strange sense of finality in the air. The wolves had made it—no longer chained, no longer prisoners—but free.

And yet, there was something that twisted in his chest as he realized that this was where they would part ways.

Jungkook stopped a few steps away from the edge of the forest, standing still for a moment. He couldn’t quite bring himself to say the words, to break the bond they had formed over the course of this one night. But he knew that the wolves had to be free of this place.

They had to disappear into the wilderness, never to return.

"You’re free now," Jungkook said, his voice barely above a whisper. The words were harder to say than he expected. His throat felt tight, like he was saying goodbye to something he couldn’t quite hold onto. He swallowed thickly, trying to steady himself.

"You’re free, but please… don’t come back. I’m scared they’ll hurt you again. They’ll hunt you, they’ll trap you. Please, stay away from human territory."

The russet wolf turned its head slightly, its amber eyes locking onto Jungkook’s. The white wolf, too, paused in its movements, turning its head to look at him. They both seemed to absorb his words, their expressions unreadable, but there was an unmistakable sadness in the air. Jungkook tried to smile, though it felt strained and hollow.

"I hope you find your family. You belong with them. Not here, not in this place."

For a long moment, the wolves didn’t move. The stillness between them seemed to stretch into eternity, and Jungkook could feel the ache in his chest growing with each passing second. The russet wolf looked back at the horizon, his body tense, his muscles rippling beneath his fur, but he didn’t leave.

The white wolf, ever the quiet one, stepped closer to Jungkook, his fur brushing against his side as it tugged gently at his sleeve with his teeth.

Jungkook froze at the unexpected gesture, his heart skipping a beat. The white wolf's green eyes, deep and gentle, met his with an almost pleading look, and Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat. The wolf's tug on his sleeve was gentle, insistent, as if he were trying to tell him something—something more than just his need for food or safety.

It was as though the wolf was urging him to stay with them, to join them, to not part ways.

The russet wolf, watching intently, took a few cautious steps toward him. His amber eyes were full of an understanding that took Jungkook by surprise. The wolf’s gaze was soft, but there was something else there—something that seemed to demand an answer. Jungkook felt a lump rise in his throat as he gazed between the two wolves, their silent plea weighing heavily on him.

He didn’t want to leave them. They had shared something unspoken, a bond formed out of necessity and understanding, something deeper than he had ever known. The wolves had trusted him when no one else had, and now they were asking him, without words, to go with them.

To leave everything behind and join them in their freedom.

But Jungkook couldn’t.

He knew he couldn’t.

“I can’t,” he whispered, his voice breaking as the words left him. The realization that he was leaving them—leaving this connection—was a sharp, painful thing.

“I wish I could. I really do.” He looked down at the white wolf, who still held his sleeve in his mouth, his eyes wide and questioning.

“I have to go back. I have to return before the village wakes up. They’ll come looking for me.”

Jungkook’s throat tightened as he tried to explain. He couldn’t keep them with him. The wolves had been through too much already, and his presence could only endanger them. He had to go back, even if the thought of returning to that place made him sick to his stomach.

He couldn’t risk their safety, not after everything they had been through.

“I’m not like them,” he continued, his voice soft but filled with conviction.

“But I’m still a part of that world. I can’t leave it behind. Not yet. Maybe someday… maybe things will change, and I can run. But not now.” He wiped his eyes quickly, trying to hold back the tears that had once again gathered in his eyes.

The russet wolf stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate, until he was standing just in front of Jungkook. The wolf’s amber eyes were searching his face, as if trying to understand, trying to make sense of his words. Jungkook held his gaze for a long moment, his heart heavy in his chest.

“I’ll remember you,” Jungkook said softly, his voice breaking a little.

“Both of you. I’ll never forget you.”

The white wolf, still by his side, released his sleeve and stepped back a little, his eyes flicking to the russet wolf, then back to Jungkook. He let out a soft, almost inaudible sound, like a quiet breath, before turning his head back to the path that led deeper into the woods.

The russet wolf followed the white wolf, but not before giving Jungkook one last look. It was a look filled with something unspoken—an understanding, a trust, a bond that transcended words.

Jungkook swallowed hard as the two wolves turned and began to walk away, their forms quickly blending into the shadows of the trees. He stood there for a moment longer, watching them disappear, his heart heavy in his chest.

“I hope you find peace,” he whispered into the still morning air.

“I hope you find your family.”

The wolves didn’t turn back, but somehow, Jungkook knew they had heard him. And as the last of their shapes faded into the darkness of the forest, he finally turned, his steps slow and heavy as he made his way back toward the village.

Jungkook felt a heavy weight in his chest as he walked back towards the village. The morning air was biting, but it was nothing compared to the storm that churned inside him. He had hoped, prayed, that he would've made it back before village woke up. But as he crossed the threshold of the village, the faint sounds of voices and movement reached his ears.

It was too late.

The hunters would already be awake, already beginning their search.

His heart skipped a beat, and the sinking feeling in his stomach grew heavier with every step he took. His mind raced, thoughts colliding in a frantic whirlwind. He had done everything he could, everything in his power, but he knew now—he would never be free of this village.

Jungkook’s thoughts scattered when he heard footsteps behind him. They were too heavy, too purposeful. He barely had time to react before the figures lunged from the shadows.

“Jungkook!”

The voice, harsh and familiar, pierced the air, sending a cold shiver down his spine.

It was Sungil’s voice.

He spun around just as the hunter grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back with painful force. Jungkook barely had time to gasp before another hand grabbed his other arm, forcing him to the ground. He cried out as his knees scraped against the cold, hard dirt, his chest tightening in panic.

“Where are they ?!” Sungil snarled, his grip tightening around his arm. Jungkook fought to stay composed, to control the overwhelming fear rising in his throat, but it was nearly impossible. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d been holding back until now. It felt like the walls were closing in on him.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jungkook tried, his voice shaking as he lifted his chin defiantly.

He had to remain calm.

He had to.

“Don’t lie!” Sungil’s voice was dangerously close, his breath hot against Jungkook’s ear.

“You freed them, didn’t you? You helped the wolves escape.”

Jungkook’s heart pounded as the words hit him like a punch to the stomach. His mind flashed back to the moment he had left the hut, the wolves walking away into the shadows. He had hoped, prayed that the hunters wouldn’t find out before he returned. But now they knew. And there was no going back.

“They’re gone, Sungil. You won’t find them,” Jungkook said, his voice trembling despite his best efforts to sound calm.

Sungil’s laugh was cold, full of malice.

“You think we’re stupid? We know they’re gone, but we also know you’re the one who set them free. And for that, you’ll pay.”

The air seemed to grow colder with every word. Jungkook’s breath quickened, his body trembling beneath the weight of his fear. He tried to pull his arms free, but the hunters’ grips were unyielding. They dragged him, struggling and kicking, toward the very hut where the wolves had been kept. Jungkook’s mind raced, his heart pounding in his chest.

“I didn’t mean to—” he tried to explain, but his words caught in his throat when the cold, bitter truth settled over him. He had done this. He had freed them. And now he had to face the consequences.

“You didn’t mean to?!” Sungil repeated with a cruel laugh. “You think anyone cares about your intentions?! You’ve made your choice, Jungkook. And now you’ll pay the price.”

Jungkook’s body was dragged into the hut, the smell of damp earth and blood still lingering in the air. His eyes flicked toward the corner where the chains had once been, the ones that had bound the wolves. He swallowed hard as the cold reality of the situation sank in.

They would hurt him now.

They would punish him for what he had done.

One of the hunters shoved him forward, and Jungkook stumbled, falling to his knees. He couldn’t stop the tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes. He hadn’t wanted this. He hadn’t wanted to make more enemies, but there was no turning back. His actions had sealed his fate.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he looked up at the hunters.

“I didn’t hurt them. I only wanted to help.”

The hunters were silent, their expressions unreadable, but there was no sympathy in their eyes. They were cold, calculating, unforgiving and full of disgust.

“Help?!” Sungil spat. “You’ve betrayed us all ! You freed those monsters ! And now you’ll feel the consequences.”

Jungkook barely had time to react before the hunters began to work with ruthless efficiency. They tied him down with the same silver chains that had once bound the wolves. The cold metal bit into his skin as they looped it around his wrists, binding him tightly, until he couldn’t move.

The pain from the silver was immediate, a searing heat spreading through his veins. His body trembled in agony as the hunters stepped back, watching him with cold, detached eyes.

“I’ll make sure you suffer for this, Jungkook,” Sungil muttered, his voice low and dangerous.

“You’ll regret ever helping those beasts.”

Jungkook’s chest tightened as he tried to fight against the chains, but they were too tight, the silver too painful. His limbs refused to obey him, his body screaming in protest as the hunters began to circle around him like vultures. He could feel the weight of their stares on him, the cold, merciless gaze of men who had never seen him as anything more than a tool to be used.

“Please,” he gasped, his breath shallow and labored.

“I’m sorry. Please, just let me go. I didn’t mean to…”

But the hunters were not listening. They didn’t care about his apologies, his regret. They only cared about punishing him for his disobedience. And Jungkook could already tell that this was only the beginning.

His life, his freedom, everything he had known, had changed the moment he freed the wolves.

They had taken him to the place of pain, the place where everything had started—

and where everything would end.

Notes:

Hope you liked the chapter ^-^
A bond has been created and i'm all here for it !

Chapter 5: Frozen days

Summary:

Jungkook comes back to the village

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat as he tried to steady his shaking hands. His heart pounded in his chest, every beat like a warning. He could feel the weight of the hunters’ eyes on him, their cold, calculating stares like a thousand invisible chains wrapping tighter around him.

He knew what was coming. He had known the consequences would be severe, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of it.

"Please," Jungkook's voice cracked, the desperation spilling out before he could even stop himself. He was still trying to make sense of it all, trying to find a way to explain himself, to make them understand that he had done what he thought was right.

"I didn’t... . I thought I was helping—"

"Shut up!"

The harsh command from Sungil was like a slap in itself. The room seemed to grow colder, the air thickening with rage as Sungil stepped closer to him, the anger radiating off of him in waves. Jungkook’s words caught in his throat, but it was too late to take them back.

Sungil’s eyes narrowed as he studied Jungkook, the raw fury in his gaze undeniable. Jungkook had never seen him like this, never truly felt the venom in his words before. He had always been harsh, had always held him too tightly, too possessively, but now it felt different. Now, it felt like the simmering rage was about to boil over into something far worse.

"You’re a disgrace," Sungil spat, his voice dripping with contempt.

"I trusted you. And this is how you repay me?"

Jungkook flinched at the words, his heart sinking into his stomach. He had never imagined that this would be the result of his actions. That trying to do something good would cost him everything.

"Please, Sungil," he begged, his voice trembling, the pleading almost suffocating.

"I just wanted to save them. I wanted to—"

Before he could finish, the sound of Sungil’s slap cracked through the air like thunder, a violent, shocking strike that sent Jungkook’s head snapping to the side. The force of it was so sudden, so overwhelming, that for a moment, everything spun.

His cheek burned, the sting deep and consuming.

Jungkook’s breath hitched, his body tense, frozen in place. He had been bruised and hurt before, yes, but this… this felt different. The sharpness of the slap stung in a way he hadn’t expected, a kind of emotional searing that burned deeper than anything physical ever could. The shame, the humiliation, the sheer anger radiating off of Sungil—it all hit him at once.

His head felt heavy, like it was filled with a thousand thoughts that couldn’t piece together.

Sungil stood over him, his breathing shallow with rage, his face twisted with disgust.

"You think you can just turn your back on everything we’ve built? On everything I’ve done for you?" His voice was low, but the venom in it was unmistakable.

Jungkook struggled to hold back the tears threatening to spill, his vision blurred, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

"I didn’t—"

Sungil raised his hand again, this time slowly, deliberately. Jungkook braced himself, instinctively shrinking back, but the slap never came. Instead, Sungil’s fist clenched at his side, his nostrils flaring as he fought to control his anger.

"You’ve made a mockery of everything," Sungil continued, his voice colder now, if possible.

"And for what? For those creatures? For wolves?" He spat the word like it was poison, his eyes flashing with disgust.

"You’re nothing but a traitor. A coward. You should be begging for my forgiveness right now, but instead, you’re still pretending like you’ve done nothing wrong."

Jungkook’s pulse thudded in his ears, his chest tightening as he stared up at Sungil. His hands clenched against the chains that held him in place, desperate for some kind of escape, but all he could do was stand there, bound and helpless.

Sungil moved in closer, his breath hot against Jungkook’s face, and for a moment, Jungkook could smell the alcohol on his breath, the bitterness in his tone, and the sickening sense of power that Sungil wielded over him.

"You think I won’t do anything to you?" Sungil’s voice dropped to a whisper, the threat palpable in the air.

"You think you’re safe now, just because you freed a couple of worthless wolves?"

Jungkook’s throat tightened, his words stuck, and all he could do was stare back at Sungil, his gaze pleading, but also terrified.

The slap had left his cheek burning, but it was the coldness in Sungil’s eyes that made him feel afraid. The truth hit him then—he was nothing more than an object to Sungil. A tool. An ornament. And now, he was no more than a disappointment.

As Sungil turned away, motioning for the other hunters to leave, the room seemed to grow colder. The weight of the silence was suffocating. The door slammed shut behind them, and Jungkook was left alone with Sungil.

Sungil’s gaze turned sharp, a twisted smirk forming on his lips.

"Now, let’s see if you’ll be a good boy and learn your lesson."

Jungkook's mind raced, desperately trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions that spun inside him. His chest felt tight, like an invisible weight pressing down on him, threatening to suffocate him with every ragged breath.

Fear.

Regret.

Helplessness.

It all swirled together in a storm he couldn’t escape from. He had never imagined it would come to this.

He trembled in the cold room, still tied up, feeling the burn of the silver chains biting into his skin. They weren’t just chains. They were a reminder. A reminder of the mistakes he’d made. Of how he had tried to help the wolves, how he had defied the life they had planned for him. The wolves were free now, but at what cost?

Sungil’s footsteps echoed in his ears as the man approached him again, his every movement deliberate, measured, like a predator stalking its prey. Jungkook’s heart pounded in his chest, too loud, too fast, as if it were trying to escape. He tried to shrink away from Sungil, but there was nowhere to go. The walls of the hut were closing in on him, pressing him tighter and tighter into a corner of despair.

“Look at you now,” Sungil sneered, his voice cold and cruel. He didn’t even need to raise his voice, the venom in his words was enough.

“You look so pretty bearing my mark on your cheek.”

He felt sick, Sungil was caressing his cheek, the one he had just slapped, like it was something precious. 

Jungkook’s throat tightened, his voice failing him. He wanted to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, but the words wouldn’t come.

His eyes flicked up to Sungil’s face, but the look he saw there was enough to send a shiver down his spine. The man he was supposed to marry, revealing his true nature, the true monster in his heart.

“Do you regret it?” Sungil asked, his tone mocking, almost casual, making Jungkook’s skin crawl.

“Do you regret helping them? Do you regret being weak, letting your sympathy cloud your judgment?

Jungkook could only manage a small shake of his head. He didn’t regret it, no matter what happened. He had helped them. He had done something good. But the weight of that decision hung heavy in the air, pressing down on him like a vice.

Sungil’s expression twisted, and before Jungkook could even react, he felt the sting of another slap. It wasn’t just the physical pain—it was the humiliation, the shock of it, that hit hardest. Jungkook’s face burned where the slap had landed, his vision momentarily swimming with tears that he refused to let fall.

He had never been hit before. Sungil had always held him too tightly, controlling him, keeping him in line, but this… This was different. This was a line being crossed, and it sent a wave of shame crashing over Jungkook.

Sungil stepped back, eyes dark with fury, watching the tremble that shook Jungkook’s frame.

“You think you’re better than me, don’t you? You think you’re some kind of hero, saving those filthy beasts. You think you can just walk away from me, from everything I’ve done for you?”

Jungkook’s heart squeezed in his chest, his hands clenched into fists that were too weak to do anything. His breath came in shallow gasps, each one a reminder of how helpless he felt. He wanted to fight back. He wanted to tell Sungil how wrong he was, how he wasn’t the same person anymore. But the fear, the terror of what might happen next, kept him silent.

It choked him, paralyzed him in place.

Sungil’s next words were soft, but they cut deeper than any physical blow.

“You are nothing. You’re just a fucking mistake I’ve been trying to fix for the sake of our village. But now, you’ve made me mad.”

Jungkook could barely breathe under the weight of those words. The tears welled up in his eyes, but he still refused to let them fall. He couldn’t let Sungil see him broken. He couldn’t show weakness, not now. But the guilt, the pain, the hopelessness gnawed at him from the inside out, and for a moment, he wanted to just curl up and disappear.

He had chosen the wolves. He had chosen what he believed was right, and now here he was, alone and broken, paying the price. But he still couldn’t regret it. Not truly. Not when he knew the wolves had needed him, when he knew they were free because of him.

And yet, the pain in his chest, the weight of everything he had lost, threatened to drown him.

Would he ever be able to escape this?

Would he ever be able to find peace ?

Sungil’s hand reached out again, but this time Jungkook steeled himself, ready for whatever came next. He wasn’t sure what he was holding onto anymore, but he couldn’t give up. Not yet. Not when he had made the choice to do what was right.

Even if it meant losing everything.

--

Jungkook sat, shivering and broken, in the small hut that had once been the wolves’ prison, now his own. The dim light from the setting sun barely reached through the cracks in the wood, leaving the space cold and quiet. The silence pressed in on him, more suffocating than the cruel words Sungil had spat at him earlier.

The last few hours, after Sungil had left him alone, his sense of time had blurred, had slipped away into an endless haze of pain and confusion. Sungil’s face—red with rage, his harsh words like nails in his mind—kept replaying over and over, cutting deeper with each thought. "You were supposed to be mine, Jungkook. You were supposed to be loyal. But instead, you’re a traitor. You’re nothing." The words stung worse than anything physical he had endured.

Jungkook couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so small, so useless. He had tried to help them, the wolves. He had done everything he could, had risked everything, and in the end, he had failed.

Sungil’s words about him being a disgrace cut to the heart of every insecurity Jungkook had ever felt. The sharp words seemed to pierce straight through him, confirming everything he had been afraid of.

How had it come to this? The cold, alone in this hut, the wolves so far away. Had they even made it to safety? Were they okay? He couldn’t know, and that uncertainty gnawed at him, feeding into the dread that had lodged itself in his chest.

The silence grew heavy, oppressive, and the gnawing feeling of isolation started to weigh him down. The cold, bitter air didn’t help. He hugged his arms around himself, trying to steady his breathing, but it was useless. His thoughts spun in endless circles, a storm of guilt, shame, and fear that drowned him.

He wasn’t strong enough. He wasn’t brave enough. The wolves had been right to trust him, but he had failed them. What if he was just as worthless as Sungil said?

In the midst of the darkness, the door creaked open suddenly. He flinched, his heart racing. Sungil stood there, looking at him coldly, his eyes like ice. Without a word, he threw a bucket of water onto the floor. It splashed across the dirt, soaking the already cold ground.

Jungkook blinked, stunned by the gesture, or lack of one. Sungil didn’t even glance at him. Without a word, he turned and walked away, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving Jungkook in a quiet abyss.

He wasn’t worth a single glance, was he? Not even a word. Not even a single moment of care. Sungil had tossed him aside like a broken tool, like something useless.

The tears that had been threatening to spill finally did, falling down his cheeks in quiet streams. He didn’t even try to stop them. His throat tightened, the weight of his isolation pressing in, and for a brief moment, he wished he could disappear.

It hurts.

It hurts in a way that goes beyond physical pain. The emotional pain was deeper, more invasive. How had it come to this? How had he allowed himself to get here?

For a long time, he sat there, in the silence. The water on the floor began to evaporate, but the cold stayed. He could feel the absence of warmth, the absence of the wolves who had comforted him earlier. They had shown him more kindness than anyone ever had, and he’d failed them. 

He had told them he would try, that he would find the courage to run away someday. But here he was, shackled in this hut. He would never be able to leave, to keep up to his words.

As the sun dipped lower, the cold seemed to get worse, and Jungkook wrapped his arms around himself tighter. He had no idea what time it was anymore. The darkness outside had swallowed the last vestiges of daylight. Hours, days… everything blurred together.

Finally, when he thought he might lose himself in the ache of it all, the door opened again. This time, Sungil didn’t throw anything at him. He just stood there, watching him with an unreadable expression. Jungkook didn’t look up. He didn’t want to see that anger again, didn’t want to feel the weight of his gaze.

"You’re pathetic," Sungil said, his voice low and biting.

"You think anyone cares about you now?" His words were like daggers, meant to wound.

"You betrayed everyone. You're nothing. No one will ever love you the way you think they will."

"I don't think you've learnt your lesson yet."

Jungkook’s chest tightened. He wanted to argue, wanted to scream that he wasn’t nothing, that he had tried, that he didn't need to learn a lesson but the words wouldn’t come. The tears flowed freely now, without restraint. He felt like the smallest thing in the world.

But Sungil didn’t wait for him to speak. He simply turned and left, the door slamming behind him once more, and the silence returned—more oppressive than before.

Jungkook stayed on the floor, his head buried in his hands, trying to hold back the sobs that racked his body. He couldn’t stop them. The pain was too much. The weight of everything pressing down on him—the guilt, the shame, the loss—was more than he could carry.

He had always been alone, hadn’t he? He had never truly belonged. Not in the village, not with Sungil, and not with the wolves. He had been a fool to think he could ever be something more than this.

Just a boy who didn’t belong anywhere.

The night stretched on, and eventually, exhaustion overcame him. His body slumped, and he fell into a restless sleep, filled with fragmented dreams. Some were of the wolves—of the russet one and the white one, looking at him with eyes full of trust. Others were of Sungil—angry, accusing, harsh words raining down on him.

And in the midst of it all, there was a deep, aching emptiness that wouldn’t leave him. An emptiness that told him, once again, that he was unworthy, that he was alone.

Time had blurred into nothing.

Jungkook didn’t know how many days had passed before he stopped trying to keep track. The sun would rise and fall beyond the cracks in the wooden hut, casting long, eerie shadows on the walls. He would sit curled in the farthest corner, knees drawn to his chest, his body aching from both hunger and exhaustion.

No one came.

Not to check on him.

Not to offer food.

Not to speak.

For the first few days, his stomach had clenched painfully, desperate for something—anything. But after a while, the hunger dulled into a constant emptiness. His body adjusted, becoming weaker, his limbs feeling almost too heavy to move. Even when Sungil did return, it was only to throw water at him or sneer at his pitiful state before leaving again.

Jungkook had long since stopped pleading.

His voice had grown hoarse from the first few days of begging, calling out, whispering for anyone—please, someone, help me. But no one came. The village had truly discarded him, just like Sungil had said.

And the wolves… they were far away now. Safe, hopefully. That was his only comfort. He told himself—over and over—that it had been worth it. That even if he rotted away in this hut, he had done the right thing.

He had saved them.

But why did it feel like no one would ever come to save him?

--

Wind rushed into the hut as the door creaked open.

Jungkook barely stirred. He sat in the same position he always did—huddled against the cold floor, his too-thin clothes offering no warmth. His body had grown weaker, his skin paler, his cheeks hollow from lack of proper food. Even blinking felt like too much effort sometimes.

Sungil stood at the doorway, his arms crossed, eyes raking over Jungkook’s frail figure.

“You’ve learned your lesson now, haven’t you?”

Jungkook barely had the energy to look up at him. He knew what Sungil wanted to hear, what he had always wanted. Submission. Compliance. Defeat.

Jungkook swallowed, forcing himself to nod slowly. It wasn’t a lie. He had learned something. That the village had never been his home. That there was no place for him here.

“That’s a good boy,” Sungil said, satisfaction dripping from his tone.

Jungkook’s stomach twisted.

“Come on, then,” Sungil said, stepping aside.

“You’re coming back to the village.”

Jungkook tried to move, but his body protested immediately. His legs trembled as he slowly pushed himself up, his arms barely able to support his weight. Every joint ached, stiff from disuse. The cold had seeped so deeply into his bones that even standing felt foreign.

Still, he forced himself forward. His legs wobbled with each step, his vision swam, but he followed Sungil out of the hut.

The night air felt strange against his skin after being trapped inside for so long. The village stretched out before him, the lights from the homes flickering like ghosts in the distance. It should have felt comforting, familiar.

It wasn’t.

Something was different. Or maybe… Jungkook was.

He didn’t belong here anymore, never had.

The thought struck him with such clarity that his chest ached. Had he ever truly belonged?

They walked in silence through the village, the snow crunching under Sungil’s boots, while Jungkook’s steps were almost soundless—weak, dragging, barely keeping up. A few villagers noticed them, their gazes sharp and unforgiving. They knew.

They knew what he had done.

Their eyes screamed traitor, but they didn’t say it aloud. They didn’t need to. Their silence was louder than any accusation. Jungkook lowered his gaze to the ground, his heart pounding with something heavy and bitter. But when they reached his hut, Sungil didn’t stop. Jungkook frowned, confusion pushing through his exhaustion.

“Wait,” he rasped, his voice rough from disuse.

“Where are we going?”

Sungil didn’t answer right away, but Jungkook could see the pleased expression on his face as he finally turned to look at him.

“You’re not living in that hut anymore,” Sungil said simply.

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat.

“What?” His voice cracked.

Sungil smirked. “You’ve lost the village’s trust, Jungkook. You’re lucky I convinced them not to kill you. They wanted to, you know.” His voice was mockingly sweet, but Jungkook could hear the amusement underneath it. He enjoyed this.

Jungkook clenched his fists, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts.

“Then where am I supposed to go?”

The answer came with a smug smile.

“With me.”

Jungkook’s stomach dropped.

No.

No, no, no .

His lips parted, but no words came out. His throat tightened, his heart pounded violently against his ribs. Sungil’s grip was firm when he grabbed his arm.

“You should be grateful. I could’ve let them leave you in that hut forever. But instead, I’m giving you a place. You’ll live with me now. Where you belong.”

Jungkook yanked his arm away, his panic giving him a brief surge of strength.

“I don’t— I can’t—”

“You can,” Sungil cut in smoothly.

“And you will.” His voice darkened, his fingers tightening around Jungkook’s wrist in warning.

“You owe me, after everything I did to keep you alive. You’d be dead without me.”

Jungkook’s breathing turned ragged. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run. But his body was too weak. His spirit was already breaking. He looked at the village, at the huts, at the place that had never truly been his home. He knew—no one would help him. No one would fight for him.

There was nowhere to run. And Sungil knew that. Jungkook’s chest ached, his shoulders shaking.

“Please…” he whispered, barely audible. Sungil sighed, almost mockingly, before patting his cheek.

“Shh. It’s alright. You’ll get used to it.”

Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut.

He had traded the walls of one prison for another.

And there was no one left to save him.

Notes:

Omg poor jungkook !!

I'm sorry I'm making him suffer so much but It's for the plot. Also, he's fictional so that makes me feel better ah ah.
Idk, I just like angst ??

Well hope you enjoyed reading !

Chapter 6: Pretending to Love

Summary:

Jungkook tries to survive his new life with Sungil

Jungkook barely remembered how he made it to Sungil’s house. His legs felt disconnected from his body, moving purely on instinct. His heart pounded so loudly that it drowned out the crunch of snow beneath his feet, the whispers of villagers still watching him, judging him, condemning him in silence.

The house was larger than most in the village, with thick wooden walls and a sturdy door—meant to keep the cold out, but to Jungkook, it felt more like a prison.

Sungil led him inside without a word, gripping Jungkook’s wrist too tightly, as if he thought he would bolt the moment he got the chance. Maybe he would have, if his body wasn’t so weak, if he thought he had anywhere to go.

The warmth inside the house was a sharp contrast to the bitter cold outside, but it didn’t bring comfort. It was suffocating, thick with something oppressive.

Sungil’s presence,

his scent,

his claim.

Jungkook’s stomach twisted.

“You’ll be staying here from now on,” Sungil said, dragging him through the dimly lit hall. The walls were bare, the floors clean but unwelcoming. It wasn’t a home. It was a place where a man like Sungil lived—cold, lifeless, empty.

He stopped in front of a door at the very end of the hall and opened it with a slow creak.

Jungkook stepped inside hesitantly. The room was small. A bed with a thin mattress was pushed against the far wall, a wooden chest at its foot. There was a single window, too high for him to reach, covered with wooden slats that barely let in the moonlight. The air was stale, as if no one had stayed here in a long time.

But that wasn’t what made Jungkook’s breath catch in his throat.

It was the chains.

Thick iron chains were bolted into the wall near the bed, their ends coiled neatly on the floor—waiting. Heavy locks lined the door from the outside, their dull metal gleaming under the flickering candlelight.

Jungkook’s stomach dropped. His eyes darted to Sungil, who was watching him with a pleased smile, enjoying every flicker of fear that crossed his face.

“I won’t take any chances with you,” Sungil said casually, as if he were discussing the weather.

“I know you. You’re too soft. You’d run the first chance you got. But you’re mine now.”

Jungkook’s fingers curled into fists.

“I’m not—”

Sungil cut him off with a chuckle, stepping closer, too close. His hand brushed against Jungkook’s cheek, but there was nothing gentle about it. His touch was cold, possessive. Unwanted.

“You are,” he said, his voice dripping with finality.

“You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?”

Jungkook trembled, but he forced himself to hold Sungil’s gaze. He refused to nod, refused to give him what he wanted.

Sungil only hummed in amusement.

“You’ll come around,” he mused, stepping back.

“You don’t have a choice.”

Jungkook swallowed against the bile rising in his throat. Without another word, Sungil turned, stepping out of the room. The door shut with a dull thud, the locks clicking into place one by one. Jungkook barely breathed until he heard Sungil’s footsteps retreating down the hall, fading into the silence of the house.

Then, and only then, did he let himself crumble.

His knees hit the floor, his chest heaving. His hands pressed against the cold wood, his fingers trembling as he stared at the door.

Locked.

Trapped.

The room wasn’t a room at all. It was another prison.

Why had he thought— even for a moment—that this would be better than the hut? Jungkook curled in on himself, his body aching, his stomach empty, his mind spiraling.

He thought of the wolves.

Were they safe? Had they made it home? Were they warm, surrounded by their pack, by people who loved them, protected them?

Did they think of him?

The silence in the room pressed against him, heavy and unbearable.

Jungkook let out a shuddering breath and pulled himself onto the bed. It wasn’t much softer than the floor, but he was too weak to care. His limbs curled around himself, trying to find warmth that wasn’t there.

No food.

No escape.

No one to help him.

The only thing keeping him from breaking completely was the distant hope that somewhere out there, under the same moon, his wolves were safe.

Maybe… that was enough.

For now.

--

Jungkook stood frozen in the dimly lit room, his breath uneven as the weight of his new reality pressed down on him. The lock on the door had clicked moments ago, sealing his fate—at least, that’s what Sungil believed. Jungkook was left alone, unshackled but still very much a prisoner.

His legs trembled from exhaustion, his body weak from weeks of near-starvation, but his mind refused to quiet. His eyes darted around the room, desperate to make sense of it, to find something—anything—that would help him escape.

The cot in the corner looked flimsy, barely enough to hold his tired frame, but it was the only piece of furniture in the room besides a small table pushed against the far wall. His body ached to collapse onto the mattress, to surrender to sleep, but he knew better. If he let exhaustion win now, he might never wake up in a world where he was free.

His fingers curled into fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms.

This can’t be my life.

The thought hit him like a punch to the gut.

A life with Sungil wouldn't be a life—it would be a slow, suffocating death. A cage where he would be nothing more than a possession, something to be owned, controlled, used. The very idea made his stomach churn. He had always feared Sungil, but now, after everything, that fear had deepened into something far worse.

Jungkook wasn’t sure how long he stood there, his body wavering between exhaustion and sheer panic. His breaths came too fast, too shallow, and for a moment, it felt like the walls were closing in on him.

No. Stop. Think.

Shoving his emotions down, Jungkook forced himself to take slow, deliberate breaths, steadying his thoughts. He had survived this long. He had saved the wolves. He had faced Sungil’s wrath and still endured.

He wasn’t weak.

Slowly, he moved toward the window, his heart hammering with a mixture of fear and fragile hope.

It was small, high up on the wall, but maybe… maybe if he could find something to stand on—

No.

His shoulders slumped when he realized it was barred. Thick iron, drilled into the stone. No way out. His only exit was the locked door, and Sungil had made sure to reinforce it. Jungkook bit his lip hard enough to taste blood.

There had to be another way.

His gaze flickered to the table, then the cot. If he broke the leg of the table, could he use it as a weapon? No, that was reckless—Sungil was stronger, and if he failed, the consequences would be even worse.

He had to be smart.

He had to be patient.

He sank onto the cot, burying his face in his hands. His body was screaming for rest, but his mind raced with the same desperate question: How do I get out of here?

A month ago, he had made a choice—to save the wolves, to do something right even if it meant sacrificing his own safety. He would make another choice now. He would not stay. He would not be Sungil’s. Even if it took time. Even if he had to pretend, to play along until the right moment came.

Jungkook clenched his fists.

He would escape.

He had to.

He sat on the edge of the cot, his fingers gripping the thin blanket as he forced himself to breathe steadily. Every fiber of his being recoiled at the plan forming in his mind, but he knew—he knew—it was the only way.

If he wanted to survive this, if he wanted to escape, he had to pretend.

He had to become what Sungil wanted.

Small.

Weak.

Obedient.

The very thought made bile rise in his throat, but what other choice did he have? Fighting back would get him nowhere, he had already seen what defiance led to.

More chains.

More punishments.

More pain.

But if he made Sungil believe that he was breaking, that he was learning, that he needed him… then maybe, just maybe, he could find his way out.

Jungkook’s stomach twisted at the thought. He’d have to let Sungil touch him. Look at him the way he always did. He’d have to endure it.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to tear at his own skin.

Instead, he took a deep breath and lay down on the cot, curling himself into a small shape, letting his body go soft and pliant. He closed his eyes and evened out his breathing, pretending to be asleep.

Because when Sungil came back, he needed to see exactly what he wanted to see.

—

The door creaked open, and Jungkook didn’t move. Heavy boots thudded against the floor, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. Jungkook kept his face relaxed, willing himself to stay still, to not react, even as he felt eyes on him.

Then—a hand.

Fingertips ghosting over his cheek, brushing against the faint bruises still lingering there.

Jungkook fought every instinct in his body not to flinch. A quiet sigh. And then, Sungil’s voice—low, dripping with false sweetness.

“You’re finally learning, aren’t you?”

Jungkook forced his breath to stay steady. Sungil chuckled softly, as if amused by the sight in front of him.

“You look so sweet like this, little one. So soft. So mine.”

Jungkook’s stomach twisted violently.

“It’s a shame it had to be this way.” A mock sigh, fingers tracing down to his jaw.

“But you forced my hand, didn’t you? I wouldn’t have had to punish you if you had just accepted your place from the start. But that’s alright… I’ll make sure you understand soon enough.”

His fingers curled under Jungkook’s chin, tilting his head slightly, as if admiring him. Jungkook wanted to scream, wanted to rip himself away, but he stayed perfectly limp. Helpless.

“I’ll take such good care of you, my sweet intended. I’ll make sure you never need anything else. You just have to do one thing for me.”

A pause. Then, a whisper against his skin.

“Be good.”

Jungkook felt his own nails dig into the mattress, hidden beneath the covers. Sungil stayed there for a long moment, watching him, waiting, before finally stepping away.

The door clicked shut behind him.

And only then—only then—did Jungkook allow himself to breathe. A shaky, silent breath, tears burning behind his closed eyelids. This was just the beginning. But he would survive this. Because one day, Sungil would believe his act completely. And when that day came,

Jungkook would be free.

--

Jungkook was already awake when Sungil entered the room the next morning, but he kept his posture small, knees tucked beneath him on the cot, hands folded in his lap like a proper, obedient wife-in-training. The door swung open, and Sungil stood in the doorway, pleased.

Too pleased.

“Good morning, my little one.” His voice was light, fond, as if he weren’t keeping Jungkook locked away like a prized possession, as if he hadn’t left him starving the night before. Jungkook lowered his gaze, letting his lashes flutter slightly before whispering,

“Good morning.”

That was all it took for Sungil’s lips to curl into a smile.

“I see you’re finally learning,” he said, stepping inside.

“Not that I ever doubted you would. You were meant to be mine, after all.”

Jungkook bit down on the inside of his cheek, hard enough to taste blood. Sungil strode toward him, reaching down to cup his chin, tilting his face up.

“I made breakfast for you,” he said, thumb dragging over Jungkook’s lower lip, his gaze dark with something possessive.

“You need to eat. Gain some weight back.”

Jungkook fought the urge to pull away. He knew what Sungil was doing. And sure enough—

“You were much prettier when you weren’t skin and bones,” Sungil mused, his grip tightening slightly. His eyes traced over Jungkook’s body, appraising him like property.

“Your hips looked better when they were full. And your thighs—” He clicked his tongue.

“So much softer before. You need to fix that, little one. Don’t you want to be beautiful for me?”

Disgust.

It clawed at Jungkook’s throat, burning through his veins like wildfire. He wanted to gag. He wanted to tear into him with his bare hands, rip the smug expression off his face. But instead, Jungkook tilted his head slightly, letting himself look small. Helpless.

And then, he blinked up at Sungil through his lashes.

“I do,” he murmured, voice soft, almost shy. “I… I want to be beautiful for you.”

Sungil inhaled sharply. Hooked.

Jungkook knew he had him. So he let himself lean into Sungil’s touch, hands fisting into the fabric of his own thin shirt, making himself look hesitant, but eager to please.

“Will you…” He paused, biting his lip before looking back up, letting his gaze go big, glassy—doe-eyed. Perfect.

“Will you feed me?”

Sungil stilled. And then—his breath hitched. Jungkook had to swallow the bile rising in his throat as he watched Sungil’s pupils dilate, as the older man exhaled slowly, his fingers tracing over Jungkook’s jaw.

“You want me to feed you?” Sungil echoed, his tone shifting into something low, indulgent. Jungkook forced himself to nod.

“Please?”

Sungil’s grin was slow and sickeningly satisfied.

“Of course, my sweet one,” he said, pulling Jungkook up onto unsteady feet, his hands lingering too long at his waist.

“I’ll take care of you. Like I always have.”

Jungkook clenched his fists, hiding the way his nails bit into his palms.

He had won this round. But it was only the beginning. The day stretched on agonizingly slow, each moment filled with sickly sweet affection that made Jungkook’s stomach churn. First, Sungil fed him.

“Come here, little one,” he had murmured, patting his lap.

Jungkook hesitated just long enough to make it look believable, lowering his gaze and pressing his lips together as if shy. As if he were flustered. Not revolted.

He took small, uncertain steps before lowering himself onto Sungil’s lap, forcing his body to relax into the older man’s hold. Sungil’s arms curled around his waist, holding him close, his warmth pressing against Jungkook’s back.

It took everything in him not to flinch.

“You fit so perfectly against me,” Sungil sighed, nuzzling into his hair.

“Like you were made for me.”

Jungkook’s throat tightened, but he let himself go still, as if accepting it. As if he weren’t dying inside. Sungil lifted a piece of food to his lips.

“Open up,” he ordered, voice dripping with satisfaction.

Jungkook swallowed down his disgust and parted his lips, obediently waiting as Sungil placed the food into his mouth. The older man’s breathing deepened. He was enjoying this.

“Good,” he praised, rubbing slow circles into Jungkook’s thigh.

“You’re finally learning.”

Jungkook let his cheeks tinge pink, lowering his eyes in false embarrassment as he chewed. The rest of the meal was excruciating, but he endured it—leaning into Sungil’s touch when necessary, letting himself appear meek, pliant, his resistance broken.

He had to sell the lie. Sungil had to believe him.

After breakfast, Sungil insisted that Jungkook take a nap.

“You need rest, little one,” he murmured, brushing hair out of Jungkook’s face.

“You still look tired.”

Jungkook didn’t argue. Because he knew—this was his chance. He needed Sungil to lower his guard. Needed to make him trust him completely. So when Sungil led him back to the small, suffocating room with its chains and locks, Jungkook hesitated, letting his fingers grip the fabric of Sungil’s shirt.

He forced himself to look hesitant. Vulnerable.

“Sungil…” His voice was small, almost unsure. The older man stilled, looking down at him with a pleased smirk.

“What is it, little one?”

Jungkook bit his lip, lowering his gaze.

“It’s just… my room is so cold.”

Sungil hummed, tilting Jungkook’s chin up.

“Cold?”

Jungkook nodded.

“And I just…” He trailed off, shifting on his feet as if nervous.

“I’d feel safer if I could sleep in your bed instead.”

The words felt like poison on his tongue, but he pushed forward, voice dipping into something soft, sweet—exactly what Sungil wanted.

“I want to be surrounded by your scent,” he whispered, leaning in just slightly, his fingers curling into Sungil’s sleeve. That was all it took. Sungil’s breath hitched, his hands tightening around Jungkook’s waist, body going rigid before he let out a slow, satisfied sigh.

“Oh, my sweet little one,” he murmured, voice thick with pleasure.

“That’s all you had to say.”

Jungkook forced himself to smile, his heart pounding violently in his chest. Because this was it. Sungil was falling for it. And soon, Jungkook would be free.

Jungkook kept his shoulders hunched, his expression carefully softened as Sungil led him into his bedroom—a room much warmer, much more comfortable than the suffocating prison Jungkook had been locked in for the past month.

Everything about it was designed to be a mockery of comfort—the rich, fur-lined blankets, the thick wooden furniture, the small fireplace casting a golden glow against the walls. It felt more like a cage wrapped in silk rather than a safe haven. But he didn’t let himself dwell on that.

As soon as Sungil guided him toward the bed, Jungkook hesitated, shifting on his feet just enough to make it look unintentional. Sungil noticed, his grip tightening slightly on Jungkook’s wrist before he softened, letting out a deep chuckle.

“No need to be shy, little one,” he murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling Jungkook down with him.

“This is where you belong.”

Jungkook let himself sink into the mattress, letting out a small, delicate yawn, covering his mouth with the sleeve of his too-large tunic. Sungil froze. The change in his demeanor was instant. The possessive hunger in his eyes softened into something fond, indulgent—like a wolf watching its mate settle into a nest.

“You’re so precious,” he murmured, reaching out to cup Jungkook’s cheek. Jungkook didn’t pull away. Instead, he hesitated for just a second before leaning into the touch, as if seeking it, as if needing it. He let his lashes flutter, let his lips part just slightly, making himself look sleepy, pliant.

Sungil sighed, pleased.

“There you go,” he whispered, his thumb tracing slow circles against Jungkook’s skin. Jungkook swallowed back the nausea rising in his throat, forcing his muscles to relax. The moment stretched.

Then, carefully, Jungkook turned, lowering himself onto the bed, curling into the blankets like a kitten. He kept his breathing slow, his fingers tucked under his cheek, feigning drowsiness. Sungil watched, enchanted. Jungkook waited, listening as Sungil finally shifted beside him. He was about to leave.

This was his moment. He had to sell it just a little more. Just enough to bury any lingering suspicions. So he did something that nearly made his own stomach turn.

He reached out.

With small, trembling fingers, Jungkook curled his hand around Sungil’s wrist, stopping him. The older man froze. Jungkook bit his lip, blinking up at him through watery eyes, his voice dipping into something small, helpless.

“Stay ?,” he whispered, barely more than a breath.

Sungil’s pupils dilated. Jungkook swallowed thickly and pushed forward, layering his words with unspoken need.

“Just… until I fall asleep,” he murmured.

“I’ll feel safer.”

The room went dead silent. Then—Sungil exhaled sharply.

“Oh, my sweet little thing,” he whispered, so painfully pleased.

The bed dipped as Sungil settled down beside him, one heavy arm draping across Jungkook’s waist, pulling him close. Jungkook let it happen. He let himself press his face against Sungil’s shoulder, curling in as if seeking comfort rather than wanting to crawl out of his own skin.

And Sungil? Sungil bought it.

“I knew you’d come around,” Sungil murmured, his breath warm against Jungkook’s temple.

“You just needed a little guidance.”

Jungkook didn’t respond. He just stayed perfectly still, forcing his breathing to even out, feigning sleep. Sungil sighed in contentment, his fingers loosening slightly around Jungkook’s waist. And that’s when Jungkook knew.

Knew that his plan was working. Knew that if he played this role just a little longer, Sungil would finally let down his guard. And then—he would escape.

--

The wooden floor creaked slightly under Jungkook’s bare feet as he stood in the middle of the dimly lit room, his hands curled into small, trembling fists. Across from him, Sungil sat in his usual chair, relaxed, one arm draped lazily over the armrest as he watched Jungkook with something like satisfaction in his eyes.

“I’ll be gone all day tomorrow,” Sungil announced, his tone casual, as if it wasn’t the most important thing Jungkook had ever heard.

“I have business to take care of. You’ll be here alone.”

Alone.

Jungkook forced himself not to react too quickly, not to let his eagerness show. Instead, he lifted his gaze slowly, blinking as if only now realizing what Sungil had said. He let his bottom lip tremble just slightly, let his fingers fidget in his lap before forcing his voice into something soft, something hesitant.

“The whole day?” he asked, letting a note of sadness slip into his voice.

Sungil hummed, amused.

“The whole day.”

Jungkook swallowed, lowering his eyes as if disappointed.

“I’ll miss you…” He made sure his voice came out quiet, almost shy. Then, as if embarrassed by his own admission, he turned his head away, biting his lip.

Sungil beamed, pleased by the response. But Jungkook knew he had to sell it more. He needed to make sure Sungil never suspected a thing. So he let his shoulders shake. Let out a quiet, hitched breath. And then, he started crying.

He didn’t sob—no, that would be too much, too dramatic. Instead, he let his eyes glisten with unshed tears, let his lower lip wobble, let a single tear slip down his cheek as if he was trying to hold it in but failing.

“I don’t want to be alone,” he whispered.

“Not all day…”

Sungil’s breath caught. His eyes darkened slightly as he reached forward, his thumb brushing away the tear that trailed down Jungkook’s face.

“Oh, my sweet little one,” he murmured, voice laced with something almost sickeningly fond.

“I knew you’d grow attached to me eventually.”

Jungkook didn’t flinch, didn’t even let himself breathe too fast. He merely tilted his head slightly into the touch, pretending to seek comfort from it.

It worked.

Sungil’s fingers lingered before he finally pulled away, looking entirely content.

“Get some rest,” he told Jungkook.

“I want you looking pretty for me when I get home.”

Jungkook only nodded, obedient as always.

But inside, his heart was thudding so loudly he was afraid Sungil might hear it.

This was it.

This was his chance.

For a full month, he had lived this nightmare, playing the role of Sungil’s perfect, doting wife. It had taken everything in him to endure it—to let Sungil feed him, touch him, press kisses to his skin as if he had any right. To let himself be cradled in his lap, to let their hands be linked together. To smile through it all, to act as though he had truly, finally given up.

He had let Sungil believe he had won.

And because of that, Sungil had grown comfortable. Had stopped locking his door at night. Had started trusting him.

Now, finally, he was going to use that trust against him. Jungkook waited until Sungil was asleep before retreating to his room, closing the door with careful, measured movements. He held his breath, listening.

Silence.

He exhaled shakily, his body shuddering from the force of holding himself together. But he had no time to be weak. No time to let himself sink into the overwhelming fear that had been clawing at his ribs for weeks.

He needed to move.

He looked around the small room, taking stock of what little he had. There was a thin blanket folded in the corner, and he grabbed it, clutching it against his chest for a moment before setting it down. He had nothing else—no food, no weapons, nothing of value.

But he had his body. He had the strength he had spent weeks regaining.

A month ago, he had been too weak to even think about running. When Sungil had first dragged him into this house, he had barely been able to stand. His body had been fragile, his limbs thin from starvation.

But now… now, he was different.

Sungil had unknowingly given him exactly what he needed—food, warmth, the chance to rebuild himself. He still wasn’t at full strength, but he was strong enough. Strong enough to run.

Jungkook moved to the small, cracked mirror on the wall, staring at the reflection that greeted him. His face looked fuller than before, though exhaustion still clung to his features. His eyes, once brimming with fire, had dulled from weeks of pretending.

But the fire wasn’t gone.

It was still there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the moment it could burn again. His fingers curled into fists at his sides. Tomorrow, when Sungil left, so would he. He didn’t know where he would go. Didn’t know how far he could get. But anything was better than this.

Even if it killed him, he would not stay in this cage.

Jungkook lay in bed, staring up at the wooden ceiling, his heart pounding in his chest. For the first time in a long, long time, hope curled in his ribs like a flickering flame, fragile yet burning, pushing against the suffocating darkness he had been drowning in for months.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, he would be free.

He turned onto his side, curling his knees toward his chest as he pulled the thin blanket over himself. It barely provided warmth, but he didn’t care. His body felt warmer than it had in weeks, not from the fabric, but from the anticipation thrumming through his veins.

Tomorrow.

He repeated the word in his head, over and over, as if it would make morning come faster. But even as he clung to that thought, fear slithered its way into his chest, wrapping around his heart like an iron grip.

What if it didn’t work?

What if Sungil came back too soon?

What if he got caught?

Jungkook clenched his fists against the mattress, breathing through his nose to keep himself steady. He had been planning for this, working for this. He had played his part perfectly, shaping himself into exactly what Sungil wanted. He had smiled, laughed, cried on command—done everything in his power to make Sungil believe he was broken, tamed, his.

And it had worked.

Sungil trusted him now. Trusted him enough to leave him alone for an entire day. This was his only chance.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep, but it did not come easily. His body was exhausted, yet his mind refused to rest. Every time he drifted off, images flashed behind his eyelids—memories twisted into nightmares.

He saw himself running, branches whipping against his skin, lungs burning. He saw Sungil catching him, grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him back. He felt the crushing weight of failure as he was dragged, screaming, back into the darkness.

Jungkook jolted awake, chest rising and falling rapidly. His fingers dug into the blanket as he forced himself to steady his breathing, to remind himself that it was just a dream.

Just a dream.

Then another dream took hold, softer but just as painful.

The wolves.

He saw them again, the way they had looked up at him with weary, tired eyes, the way they had trembled under the weight of their silver chains. He saw their pain, their silent plea. He heard the way they whimpered, the way they trusted him without knowing him. Even now, they haunted him.

And maybe, in a way, they were guiding him, reminding him why he had to run, why he had to survive.

Jungkook swallowed, pressing his face into the pillow.

He would not fail.

He would not be caught.

This nightmare would not become real.

At some point, exhaustion won. His body forced him into unconsciousness, though it was not peaceful. His sleep was restless, filled with flashes of fear, of desperation. Time passed in a blur, minutes stretching endlessly, until—

The door creaked open.

Notes:

So... Poor Jungkook is still suffering. Sorry !! But now he has a plan !

Chapter 7: Icy Survival

Summary:

Will Jungkook manage to run away from Sungil's house ??

Jungkook swallowed, pressing his face into the pillow.

He would not fail.

He would not be caught.

This nightmare would not become real.

At some point, exhaustion won. His body forced him into unconsciousness, though it was not peaceful. His sleep was restless, filled with flashes of fear, of desperation. Time passed in a blur, minutes stretching endlessly, until—

The door creaked open.

--

Jungkook did not move.

He had done this countless times before—pretended to sleep, let Sungil believe he was soft and pliant and waiting for him. So now, he kept his body still, let his breathing remain deep and even, despite the way his pulse roared in his ears.

Footsteps approached the bed. Jungkook could feel him there, standing over him, watching. Then, a hand brushed against his cheek.

“My pretty boy,” Sungil murmured, voice filled with sickening affection. His thumb ghosted over Jungkook’s skin, tracing the curve of his jaw before moving down to his shoulder. He squeezed lightly, as if testing the muscle there.

“I’ve been taking good care of you, haven’t I?”

Jungkook did not move.

Sungil exhaled, content.

“You look so sweet when you sleep,” he continued, his fingers trailing down Jungkook’s arm, grazing his wrist.

“I’ll miss you today.”

A pause. Then a soft chuckle.

“But I’ll come back quickly, just for you.”

Jungkook wanted to scream.

Instead, he remained still, kept his breaths slow and steady, even as Sungil brushed his fingers through his hair, even as he pressed a light kiss to his temple, even as he whispered possessive nonsense into his ear.

“I know you’ll be good while I’m gone,” Sungil murmured.

“You’ve been so good for me, haven’t you? My perfect little wife.”

Jungkook almost flinched, almost recoiled—but he caught himself just in time.

Sungil sighed, stroking Jungkook’s hair one last time before stepping back. The bed shifted slightly as he pulled the covers up to Jungkook’s chin, tucking him in like he was something precious, something to be treasured.

Something that belonged to him.

Jungkook nearly bit through his lip to keep from reacting. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sungil stood. His footsteps moved toward the door.

Jungkook listened.

The door creaked open. Then, Sungil’s voice, fond yet firm.

“Sleep well, my love. I’ll see you tonight.”

The door shut. Jungkook kept still, waiting, his heart hammering so violently he thought it might shatter his ribs. Then he heard it—Sungil moving through the house, the sounds of him gathering his things, the faint rustling of fabric as he put on his coat.

A pause.

A shuffle of boots.

And then the front door opened. Jungkook held his breath. Then, after a long moment, it closed again.

Silence.

Jungkook remained motionless, straining his ears, waiting for any sound, any indication that Sungil might still be there.

Nothing.

Minutes passed. The silence stretched on.

Then, finally—

He was gone.

Jungkook lay still for several minutes after the door closed, his breath coming in slow, measured exhales as he listened, really listened, for any sound that might signal Sungil’s return. He counted in his head, waiting for the distant crunch of boots on the path outside, waiting for the rattle of the doorknob, waiting for anything that would mean his worst fear had come true.

But there was nothing.

No voices.

No movement.

No footsteps.

Just silence.

Jungkook's heartbeat roared in his ears, but he forced himself to remain patient. He couldn’t afford to be reckless now, not after waiting for so long. His body was thrumming with anticipation, adrenaline already coursing through his veins, but he had to be smart.

Had to be careful.

So he gave it another few minutes, laying motionless beneath the covers, counting every breath.

Then, when he was as sure as he could be, he moved.

Slowly, deliberately, Jungkook sat up in bed. The room was dim, the early morning light filtering faintly through the wooden shutters. It wasn’t bright yet, but it was enough—enough for someone to see him if he wasn’t careful.

He had no time to waste.

Jungkook swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his bare feet hitting the cold floorboards. He ignored the way his body protested, the slight ache in his joints from weeks of barely moving. He had worked so hard to gain back his strength, to build up his stamina, and now it was time to put it to the test.

Moving quickly but quietly, he reached under the bed and pulled out the small bag he had prepared in secret over the past few weeks. It wasn’t much, just some food he had managed to save without Sungil noticing, a small water pouch, the warmest clothes he could find.

It wasn’t enough for long-term survival, but it would be enough to get him away.

That was all that mattered.

He slung the bag over his shoulder and moved to the wardrobe, pulling out the thickest coat he owned. His hands trembled as he pulled it on, fastening the buttons with stiff fingers. He hadn’t felt true cold in weeks, not with how Sungil had kept him indoors, but he knew the outside world wouldn’t be forgiving.

He had to move fast.

Jungkook stepped toward the door, pressing his palm flat against the wood. His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might shake his ribs apart, but he forced himself to stay calm. He needed to be absolutely sure there were no traps, no last-minute tricks Sungil might have set up.

He turned the knob slowly. The door creaked open an inch, and he froze, waiting.

Nothing.

Biting his lip, he pushed it open further and peeked into the hallway.

Empty.

His breath came quick and shaky, but he didn’t hesitate. He stepped out, placing each foot carefully to avoid the old wooden floor from groaning beneath him. The house was eerily quiet without Sungil there, and Jungkook didn’t trust it. It felt unnatural, as if the walls themselves were waiting for him to make a mistake.

He moved swiftly down the hall, glancing toward the front door—but no, he couldn’t go that way. It led straight to the village, straight to where someone could see him. He had already planned this.

The back door.

Jungkook padded toward the small back exit, the one Sungil rarely used. It led away from the village, toward the trees, toward an unfamiliar path—but an unfamiliar path was safer than a known one.

He reached for the handle, gripping it tightly.

Please. Please, please, please—

It turned.

The door opened without resistance. A shaky breath of relief escaped him, but he swallowed it down, stepping outside carefully. The cold air hit his skin immediately, but he ignored it, stepping further into the open.

The sky was still painted in the soft hues of early morning, the sun barely beginning to rise. But it was still too bright. He was too exposed.

No time to think.

Jungkook ran.

He bolted from the house, his feet barely touching the dirt as he sprinted toward the trees. His bag bounced against his back, his breath came in short, sharp gasps, but he pushed forward, running as fast as his legs would carry him.

Faster.

Faster.

He had done this before. He had told the wolves to run, to flee, to escape to the forest. And now, it was his turn. The treeline loomed ahead, dark and endless, and he didn’t dare look back. Didn’t dare check if someone had spotted him, if someone was following.

Because if they were...

If they were...

He couldn’t afford to know.

He reached the trees, his body crashing into the thick underbrush as he plunged into the shadows. He ran without direction, only knowing that he needed to go deeper, further, away.

Branches scratched at his skin, twigs snapped beneath his feet, but he didn’t stop.

He ran.

He ran for his life.

He ran for freedom.

Jungkook didn't dare look back. His legs burned, his breath came in ragged gasps, and the cold air stung his lungs with every inhale, but he couldn’t stop, not now. Not when freedom was just within reach.

The snow beneath his feet was uneven, a mixture of hardened ice and fresh powder, making each step treacherous. His boots sank into the drifts, slowing him down, but he forced himself forward. He had made it to the forest, the dense trees shielding him from prying eyes. That was the first step.

But it wasn’t enough.

He had to get further.

Jungkook pushed on, his arms pumping at his sides, his body moving on pure adrenaline. His heart pounded in his ears, louder than the crunch of his footsteps, louder than the wind whistling through the trees. He knew the border wasn’t close, he had never been allowed to roam that far, but he also knew that he couldn’t afford to stop until he got there.

He had managed to lead the wolves there, he would manage it a second time.

The unmarked lands were dangerous, but not as dangerous as staying within human territory. His lungs ached. His legs screamed for rest. But he couldn’t stop.

He forced himself to keep going, to push past the exhaustion, past the searing pain in his calves and the ice biting at his exposed skin. He had no way of knowing if Sungil had realized he was gone yet, no way of knowing if someone was already looking for him, if someone had seen him.

All he knew was that stopping meant death.

So he ran.

Minutes blurred into an hour. Then another.

The deeper he went into the forest, the less familiar everything became. The trees were taller here, their branches arching above him like skeletal hands reaching for the sky. The ground was uneven, hidden rocks and roots threatening to trip him with every hurried step.

He had to slow down in some places, gripping onto tree trunks to steady himself, his fingers aching from the cold. But he didn’t stop. Jungkook didn’t know how much time had passed when he finally saw it, the thinning of the trees ahead, the faint glow of the rising sun illuminating the untouched snow beyond.

The border.

The edge of human territory.

His chest heaved, a mix of relief and sheer exhaustion washing over him. He stumbled forward, nearly collapsing into the snow, but caught himself just in time. He had made it.

But he wasn’t safe yet.

Jungkook forced himself to stand upright, his breath visible in the freezing air. He turned his head slightly, peering over his shoulder for the first time since he started running.

Nothing.

No figures moving in the distance. No sounds of pursuit. For now, he was alone. But how long would that last?

Jungkook’s hands trembled as he hugged his arms around himself, his body aching from the relentless run. His mind screamed at him to keep going, to cross the border and never look back, but his legs refused to move just yet.

He allowed himself just a few minutes. A few minutes to catch his breath, to let the reality of his situation sink in. There was no going back now. If he returned, he wouldn’t get another chance. Sungil would never trust him again.

Jungkook swallowed hard, forcing the fear down as he turned back toward the unmarked lands. Then, without another thought, he stepped forward.

And crossed the border.

Jungkook kept running.

His legs ached, every step heavier than the last, but he forced himself forward. He was in the unmarked lands now, a place neither humans nor wolves claimed as their own. A place claimed by none, yet shared by all 

How far did it stretch? How many days would he have to keep moving before he found a true safe haven? He didn’t know, but there was no turning back.

The forest here was different. The trees loomed taller, their thick branches blocking out the late afternoon sun. The air was colder, harsher, and the ground was untamed, untouched by human hands. There were no paths here, no signs of civilization, just endless wilderness stretching as far as the eye could see.

Jungkook’s breath came in heavy gasps, clouds of mist forming in the frigid air. His feet, despite the layers of clothing he had worn, were beginning to feel numb, his fingers stiff from gripping the straps of the small bag he had prepared. 

He pushed forward. The loneliness pressed down on him like a weight. Was this what the wolves had felt when he led them to freedom? The uncertainty, the fear, the sheer isolation of stepping into the unknown?

He wished he had a companion, someone to make this journey with him, someone to assure him that he wasn’t alone. But he was. He had always been.

And it seemed like he would have to survive alone out here as well.

Jungkook swallowed down the lump in his throat, shaking his head as if to rid himself of the creeping despair. No—anything, anything was better than staying in that village. Even if he had to fight for his life every single day, even if survival out here was brutal and unforgiving, it would still be freedom.

It would still be his choice.

The sun was beginning to set now, the sky painted in streaks of gold and deep purple. The temperature was dropping rapidly, and it was only then that Jungkook realized just how cold he was. His body had been running on pure adrenaline for hours, but now that the rush was fading, the chill seeped into his skin, burrowing deep into his bones.

His teeth chattered as he hugged his arms around himself, his thin layers doing little to protect him from the unforgiving winter night.

He needed shelter.

Jungkook’s eyes scanned his surroundings, searching for anything that could shield him from the elements. He couldn’t risk sleeping out in the open, who knew what kind of creatures roamed these lands at night?

Then, just beyond the thick brush, he saw it.

A small cave, barely visible behind a curtain of vines. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Jungkook stumbled toward it, pushing past the frozen foliage with trembling fingers. The cave was shallow, just deep enough to shield him from the wind, and the walls were damp with condensation. It wasn’t warm, not by any means, but it was better than nothing.

He dropped his bag onto the ground and collapsed against the stone wall, his body drained of all energy. His breathing was shaky, his limbs trembling from exertion and cold.

But he was safe.

For now.

Jungkook curled in on himself, pulling his coat tighter around his body in a weak attempt to preserve warmth. He could still feel the sting of the icy wind sneaking in through the cracks, but he was too exhausted to care.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the gnawing hunger in his stomach, trying to ignore the ache in his muscles, the frost creeping up his fingertips. Tomorrow, he would figure out his next move. Tomorrow, he would continue forward.

For now, all he could do was rest.

--

Jungkook stirred, his body stiff from the cold ground beneath him. His eyelids felt heavy, exhaustion clinging to his bones, but the biting chill of the morning air urged him awake.

For a few seconds, he was lost. Where was he? Why was the air so frigid? Why did his limbs feel like lead, his stomach hollow with hunger? Then it all came crashing back.

The escape.

The endless running.

The unmarked lands.

Jungkook sucked in a sharp breath, pushing himself up on shaky arms. The cave around him was dimly lit, the early morning sun barely casting any light through the curtain of vines that hid the entrance. He could still hear the faint whisper of wind outside, but it wasn’t nearly as harsh as the previous night.

He had survived a night.

But he couldn’t stay here.

Jungkook didn’t know if humans would risk going this far into unmarked territory to find him, but he wasn’t going to wait around to find out. By now, Sungil had realized he was gone. The village would know. They would be looking for him.

The thought sent a wave of dread rolling through his stomach, but it also fueled him. He had to keep moving.

Forcing himself to his feet, Jungkook shouldered his small bag, his muscles protesting with every movement. He ached all over—from running, from the cold, from exhaustion—but he gritted his teeth and pressed forward.

He had no idea where he was going. No destination in mind. But anywhere was better than the life he had left behind.

The day blurred into an endless cycle of movement. Jungkook ran. And when he couldn’t run anymore, he walked. Then he ran again.

The unmarked lands stretched on forever, an expanse of untouched wilderness with no clear path, no road, no sign of anything familiar. The snow-covered trees stood tall and unyielding, their skeletal branches reaching for the sky. The wind howled at times, whispering threats in his ears, but Jungkook didn’t stop.

His lungs burned, his legs ached, and every breath felt like it wasn’t enough. But he didn’t stop. He had to put as much distance as possible between himself and the village. Had to make sure they would never find him.

The sun had begun its descent by the time Jungkook realized just how weak he felt. His limbs trembled with each step, his throat was parched, and his stomach twisted painfully in protest. He had eaten the last of his food just a few hours ago. The small scraps he had managed to gather without Sungil noticing.

If he didn’t find something soon, his body would start giving out on him. The thought was terrifying. But he couldn’t think about it now. He needed to find shelter before nightfall. It wasn’t until the sky was tinged in deep purples and soft oranges again that Jungkook finally found it.

Another cave.

Bigger than the last one.

Better.

It was hidden behind thick trees, its entrance partially covered by fallen branches and overgrown ivy, as if nature itself had been guarding it. Jungkook pushed through the foliage, his hands trembling from exhaustion, and stepped inside.

The moment he did, relief flooded his body.

It was dry.

The air inside was warmer, the stone walls smooth instead of damp. The ground wasn’t covered in frost or ice, just solid rock that, while still cold, wasn’t unbearable. It was deep enough to shield him from the wind, the entrance angled in a way that wouldn’t let the snow pile inside.

It wasn’t much, but it was the best shelter he had found so far. Jungkook all but collapsed onto the ground, his body finally giving in to the exhaustion. His bag slipped from his shoulder, landing beside him with a soft thud.

His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He was drained, empty, every muscle screaming in protest. But he had made it through another day. Another day of trying to find freedom.

Curling in on himself, Jungkook closed his eyes. Tomorrow, he would do it all over again.

--

Jungkook had kept track.

Fifteen days.

Fifteen days since he had escaped the village.

Fifteen days of running. Of exhaustion. Of fear. Of hope.

Fifteen days of survival.

He didn’t know how much farther he had to go. He had no real destination, only the certainty that every step he took was another step away from the life he had once known. That was enough.

But his body was reaching its limit.

Jungkook had survived off small game—fish from frozen streams, rodents he had managed to trap. He wasn’t skilled, not like a true hunter, but desperation had forced him to learn quickly. He cooked only what he needed, using the smallest flames possible, never allowing them to burn too bright or too long.

Fire was a risk.

If the villagers were searching for him, a fire could give him away. If predators lurked nearby, it could draw them in. So he suffered the cold.

He shivered through the nights, curled beneath thin layers of cloth that did little to protect him from the bite of winter. He ignored the stiffness in his limbs, the ache in his stomach, the slow deterioration of his strength.

Jungkook knew he had lost weight again.

He could feel it in the way his clothes hung looser, in the way his fingers felt bonier, in the growing weakness of his muscles. If he didn’t eat something substantial soon, his body would begin failing him.

He had to hunt.

Jungkook forced himself to stand, ignoring the way his knees wobbled. He tightened the fabric around his shoulders, shielding himself as best he could against the cold, and grabbed his makeshift knife before stepping out into the vast expanse of white.

The forest stretched before him, endless and quiet. A vast wilderness of towering trees and snow-laden branches. It was beautiful, in a haunting sort of way.

But Jungkook had no time to admire it.

Each breath he took came out in misty clouds before him as he trudged forward, his boots crunching softly against the fresh layer of snow. He kept his steps light, careful, ears trained for any sign of movement. If he could find a rabbit, maybe even a bird—anything—he might be able to regain some of his strength.

But then—

The wind shifted.

A sharp, howling gust tore through the trees, cutting straight through his clothes like icy daggers. The sudden force of it nearly sent him stumbling. Jungkook froze. Snowflakes whipped around him, once gentle, now harsh. The world dimmed as thick sheets of white began falling from the sky at an alarming rate.

No.

Not now.

Another gust of wind hit him, stronger this time, nearly knocking him off balance.

A storm.

His stomach twisted in panic.

Jungkook looked around frantically, trying to gauge how far he was from shelter, but the landscape was already changing before his eyes. The snow was coming down fast, heavy, swallowing his footprints within seconds.

If he didn’t find cover soon...

A violent shiver racked his frame. He had to move.

Jungkook forced his legs into motion, pushing forward through the thickening storm, his body screaming in protest. The wind howled mercilessly around him, biting at his exposed skin, stealing the breath straight from his lungs.

The cold was worse than anything he had felt before. It wasn’t just uncomfortable. It was painful.

Jungkook gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the growing numbness creeping into his fingers, his toes. He squinted against the flurry of snow, struggling to see more than a few feet ahead. The forest that had once been vast and open was now a suffocating, blinding blur of white.

Where was he going?

Where had he come from?

The storm was disorienting, making it impossible to tell which direction was which. His heart pounded. He needed shelter. Jungkook’s breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as he stumbled forward, his body growing sluggish. His limbs felt heavier, his mind foggy.

No, no, no—he couldn’t stop.

If he stopped, he would die.

Panic clawed at his chest as he pushed on, the storm raging around him like a living thing, relentless and unforgiving. There had to be something—a cave, an alcove, even a hollowed-out tree—anything to shield him from the brutal cold.

But the storm only grew worse. And Jungkook was running out of time. So he kept moving forward.

--

He didn’t know how long he had been walking, battling the snowstorm.

Minutes? Hours?

He had no idea, time had lost all meaning. The snowstorm was relentless.

The wind howled like a furious beast, whipping through the trees with such force that Jungkook felt as if it were trying to knock him down, trying to bury him beneath the endless white. He could see nothing.

The world around him had vanished, swallowed by the blinding blizzard. Snowflakes lashed at his face like tiny daggers, the cold so sharp it burned. Every inch of his body was frozen, his fingers stiff and unresponsive, his lips cracked and numb.

He tried to listen—tried to hear anything beyond the deafening roar of the wind—but there was nothing. No animals, no rustling trees, no indication of life anywhere. It was as if the world had been swallowed whole, leaving only Jungkook, struggling against the storm.

And for the first time since he had escaped, panic set in. Was this what his life would be like now?

Fighting.

Struggling.

Running.

Every day a battle just to survive. Was it even worth it?

Doubt whispered in his mind, curling around his thoughts like a cruel, taunting voice. Maybe he should have stayed. Maybe the life he left behind, no matter how suffocating, had at least been safe. Maybe running had been a mistake.

But then, he thought of the wolves.

Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, pushing away the hopelessness creeping in. The wolves had wanted him to come with them. They had wanted him safe. They had trusted him. He couldn’t give up now.

He had to be brave.

With sheer force of will, Jungkook forced himself to keep moving, each step heavy and sluggish. His legs ached, his body screamed in protest, but he clenched his jaw and pushed forward.

Then,

It happened so fast.

One moment, he was struggling against the wind, his boots sinking deep into the snow with each step.

The next, he was falling.

Notes:

Hey !

Jungkook is still suffering, poor thing ! But at least it's not at the hands of anyone. I admit that he really deserves a break. But you know how it is, angst is angst after all.

See ya !

Chapter 8: A Meeting in the Dark

Summary:

The aftermath of Jungkook's fall

He had to be brave.

With sheer force of will, Jungkook forced himself to keep moving, each step heavy and sluggish. His legs ached, his body screamed in protest, but he clenched his jaw and pushed forward.

Then,

It happened so fast.

One moment, he was struggling against the wind, his boots sinking deep into the snow with each step.

The next, he was falling.

--

The ground beneath him vanished.

Jungkook gasped, arms flailing, his stomach lurching as he tumbled down. The air whooshed past him, the world spinning, snow and ice rushing around him in a dizzying blur. The fall seemed to last forever.

And then—impact.

Pain exploded through his body, sharp and overwhelming, as he crashed against something hard and unyielding. His breath left him in a choked gasp, his vision flashing white from the force of it.

For a moment, he didn’t even know where he had landed.

Everything hurt.

Everywhere.

His limbs felt like dead weight, his lungs burning as he struggled to pull in air. His thoughts were sluggish, swimming through thick fog. He tried to move, but the second he did, a sharp, agonizing pain shot up his leg.

Jungkook let out a strangled cry, his hand flying to the source of the pain. His fingers pressed against the thick fabric of his pants, and even through the layers, he could feel the unnatural swell beneath.

His leg.

Something was wrong.

His mind reeled, struggling to piece together what had happened. He had fallen—but from where? How far? His surroundings were a blur of white and jagged shadows, the storm still raging above him.

And then another realization hit him.

His head.

It was hard to think. His thoughts were slipping, fading in and out like a flickering candle. A dull throbbing pulsed through his skull, making it difficult to keep his eyes open.

He was hurt.

Alone.

Trapped.

His breath came in short, ragged gasps as he tried to fight against the darkness creeping at the edges of his vision. He needed to stay awake. He needed to move. But his body was heavy, the pain too overwhelming.

He blinked slowly, struggling to keep his eyes open. One moment, the world was spinning around him. The next—

Nothing.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

--

Jungkook woke slowly, as if rising from the depths of dark, murky water. His body felt disconnected, like it didn’t quite belong to him anymore. His thoughts were sluggish, his mind clouded with a thick, suffocating fog.

For a long moment, he couldn’t remember where he was. His eyes fluttered open, and all he could see was white. Snow. An endless stretch of snow. It was everywhere, blanketing the ground, coating the trees, falling gently from the sky.

Then—

The pain hit.

A raw, piercing agony shot through his right leg, radiating all the way up to his hip. It was unbearable, like fire burning through his bones, and he sucked in a sharp breath, his body seizing up from the sheer intensity of it.

His head throbbed violently, a deep, pounding ache that made his vision blur. His breath quickened, coming out in shallow, panicked puffs of air. He forced himself to move, just enough to look down at his leg.

No blood.

That was something, at least. But the unnatural way his leg rested, his ankle slightly twisted, the way even the slightest movement sent stabbing pain through his nerves—

It had to be broken.

Jungkook bit down on his lip hard, trying to suppress the rising hysteria clawing at his chest. His hands, trembling and numb from the cold, moved up to his head, searching for another injury. The moment his fingers brushed against the side of his skull, a fresh wave of pain nearly made him scream.

And when he pulled his hand away—

Blood.

His stomach twisted. Dark, crimson blood stained his pale skin, stark against the white of the snow. His breathing grew more erratic.

No. No, no, no—

This couldn’t be happening.

Overwhelmed by pain, fear, and sheer exhaustion, a sob tore from his throat. His body trembled violently, not just from the cold but from the crushing weight of despair settling over him. Tears welled in his eyes, hot against the freezing air, slipping down his cheeks in silent surrender.

This was it.

He was going to die here.

Alone,

freezing,

broken.

A sob escaped him, then another, until he was crying, the sound swallowed by the vast emptiness around him. He curled in on himself as much as his body would allow, shoulders shaking, his breath hitching uncontrollably.

He had fought so hard. He had run so far.

And for what? To die out here in the middle of nowhere?

He wanted to scream. He wanted to claw at the snow, to pound his fists against the earth in frustration, but he had no strength left. Even his hands—he couldn’t feel them anymore. They were numb, frozen, useless. At least the cold dulled the pain in his leg.

Through the haze of agony, he knew he couldn’t stay lying in the snow. If he did, he would never get up again.

It took everything he had, every last shred of willpower, to drag himself forward. His arms were weak, his fingers barely responding as he pulled himself toward the nearest tree. Every movement sent pain lancing through his body, but he gritted his teeth and kept going.

Inch by agonizing inch.

When he finally reached the tree, he collapsed against it, panting, his entire body trembling violently. His vision blurred in and out of focus as he turned his head slightly, forcing himself to take in his surroundings.

That’s when he saw it.

The cliff.

Maybe five or six meters high. That’s where he had fallen from. Jungkook’s breath hitched, his chest tightening with the realization. He was lucky to be alive. Or maybe unlucky. The storm had lessened now. Snowflakes still fell from the sky, but gently, no longer the violent, punishing force they had been before.

Jungkook closed his eyes, his body sagging against the tree.

He had survived the fall.

But how was he supposed to survive this?

--

Time became meaningless.

Jungkook drifted in and out of consciousness, never fully awake, never fully asleep—just stuck in a hazy, agonizing limbo. Each time his eyes fluttered open, he barely had time to register his surroundings before they slid shut again. His body refused to move, his mind too foggy, too exhausted to fight against the pull of unconsciousness.

Every time he woke, he felt angrier.

At himself.

At his weakness.

At the cruel reality that no matter how hard he had fought, no matter how far he had come—he had still ended up here.

Broken.

Helpless.

Dying.

He didn’t know how long it had been since the fall. Minutes? Hours? More?

The sky remained the same endless, dull gray. The sun, barely visible behind thick clouds, gave him no clue.

His body was stiff with cold, each limb like dead weight. His fingers—he couldn’t feel them anymore. He tried to wiggle them, to force some life back into them, but they barely moved. The realization sent a fresh wave of panic through him.

Was this how it started? Was this how the cold took him? First the numbness, then the stillness, then nothing at all?

Jungkook’s breath hitched, and his vision blurred with fresh tears. He had fought so hard to be free. And now—

Now he was going to die out here. Alone. No one would ever know what happened to him. The wolves, would they wonder where he had gone? Would they think he had abandoned them? Would they ever know he had tried? That he had done everything he could to keep going?

His chest ached, but not just from the pain. It was deeper than that, a raw, gnawing sorrow that threatened to swallow him whole. His body ached, his leg throbbed, his head pounded. But worse than any of that—

He was tired.

So, so tired.

Maybe it would be easier to just let go. To stop fighting. To close his eyes and never open them again. Would it be so bad?

The thought scared him. But what scared him even more was how tempting it was. Jungkook fought to stay awake. His body begged for rest, luring him into a false sense of comfort, whispering to him that sleep would take the pain away, that closing his eyes—just for a little while—wouldn’t hurt.

But he knew better.

Knew that if he gave in, if he let himself slip into unconsciousness, he might never wake up again.

The cold was burrowing deeper into his bones, an unbearable, numbing force that made everything sluggish—his thoughts, his movements, even the desperate rise and fall of his chest. His breath came out in uneven puffs of white against the frigid air, fingers curled into the damp fabric of his clothes as if holding onto himself would keep him tethered to the waking world.

The sky was bleeding into deep shades of gray, the last traces of daylight fading behind the thick curtain of clouds.

It was getting colder.

How was that even possible?

Jungkook’s vision blurred, his heavy lashes dusted with frozen tears as he focused on the snowflakes drifting through the air. He needed something, anything, to keep him from slipping into the dark.

One.

Two.

Three.

He counted each snowflake that landed in front of him. Forced his eyes to stay open, forced himself to exist.

And then—

A sound.

The snap of a branch. Heavy. Deliberate.

Jungkook tensed, his body stiffening against the tree trunk as his breath hitched in his throat. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze clouding his vision, trying to scan the dimly lit forest for the source of the noise.

There was nothing. Only the endless white of the snow, the skeletal remains of trees, the eerie stillness of the land around him. But then it came again—another crunch, closer this time. His heart pounded against his ribs, fear creeping into his veins like ice.

Something was watching him.

The realization sent his mind spiraling into panic. He swallowed thickly, his throat raw from crying, from breathing in the freezing air. His body screamed at him to move, to run, but he couldn’t.

He was broken,

helpless.

The sound came again. The slow, purposeful steps of a predator moving through the snow. Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, another tear slipping down his cheek as he tried to stifle the sob building in his throat.

A beast lurking in the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He was going to die here. After everything—after all the pain, after all the suffering, after fighting so hard to escape—he was still going to die.

And yet—

He didn’t want to.

He wanted to live.

A strangled whimper escaped his lips before he could stop it, his entire body trembling, not just from the cold anymore but from pure terror. And then, in a voice so weak it was barely more than a breath, he pleaded:

“Please… don’t hurt me.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Jungkook didn’t dare breathe. The silence stretched on for so long that he started to believe—hope—that the beast had left, that whatever had been watching him had lost interest and disappeared into the night.

But then—

A shift in the air.

A presence.

And before his bleary eyes, emerging from the shadows of the forest, came two enormous figures.

Wolves.

Massive wolves.

Jungkook’s breath hitched as his entire body tensed, every muscle in his frail frame screaming at him to run, but he couldn’t. He was frozen in place, trapped against the rough bark of the tree, barely able to do more than tremble violently as his pulse thundered in his ears.

The first wolf was black as onyx, his thick coat blending seamlessly into the darkness, moving like a living shadow. The second was a ghostly silver, its fur almost luminous under the dim light of the moon, as if it had been carved from frost and winter itself.

They were both enormous—far larger than the wolves Jungkook had known, the ones he had saved. These creatures were unlike anything he had ever seen before. Their powerful limbs carried them forward with the slow, deliberate movements of apex predators. They exuded an effortless authority, a quiet confidence that made it clear they feared nothing.

They knew their power.

And they would not hesitate to eradicate a threat.

Jungkook gasped, choking on his own fear as his tears came harder, hot against his frozen skin. His breath stuttered out in uneven, desperate sobs as the wolves closed the distance between them, drawing near enough to tower over him but keeping just far enough that he couldn’t reach them, even if he tried.

Not that he would.

Not that he dared.

They were watching him. Their gazes locked onto him with piercing intensity, unblinking, unwavering. The silver wolf’s eyes were an icy, brilliant blue, like the heart of winter itself—cold, sharp, and endless.

The black wolf’s eyes were deep crimson, burning like smoldering embers in the darkness. Jungkook had never seen wolves like this before. And then—it hit him.

These creatures were far too big, too intelligent, too aware to be regular wolves. They weren’t just animals.

They had to be shifters.

Jungkook’s breath came in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling in quick, frantic movements. His mind raced, torn between relief and overwhelming dread. Shifters could mean salvation. Shifters could mean death. He had no way of knowing which one awaited him.

All he could do was sit there, broken, trembling, and hope—pray—that these wolves would spare him. For a long, tense moment, Jungkook thought they would lunge at him.

His body remained rigid, every fiber in his being still bracing for an attack, for sharp teeth to tear into his flesh, for the cold, merciless hands of fate to finally drag him into the abyss. But then something shifted.

The massive wolves, after silently observing him, did something entirely unexpected.

They sat down.

Right in front of him. The motion was slow, deliberate—controlled.

Jungkook blinked, his tear-blurred vision making the creatures seem even more ethereal than they already were. They sat calmly, their large frames sinking into the thick snow with effortless grace, their piercing eyes never leaving his. The black wolf let out a long breath, its hot exhale forming a cloud of white mist in the freezing air.

The silver wolf simply watched, as still as a statue, its blue eyes unreadable. It took Jungkook a few seconds to understand what they were doing. They weren’t going to attack him. Not yet, at least. Not unless they had a reason to.

The realization made his shoulders drop, the tight coil of fear in his gut slowly unraveling, though he was still too wary to relax completely. His breathing, previously ragged and erratic, started to even out. The tremors in his body weakened, and his tears—hot and desperate just moments ago—finally stopped.

For the first time in days, he wasn’t alone.

Jungkook’s chest rose and fell in shaky breaths as he sat there, cradling his injured leg, his raw fingers digging into the fabric of his torn clothes for warmth. And yet, despite the agony in his body, despite the bone-deep exhaustion threatening to pull him under, he couldn’t look away from them.

He was drawn to them.

There was something about them, something beyond their sheer size and beauty.

It was the way they exuded power, raw and unshaken, as if the very land beneath them bowed to their presence. It was the way they stared at him, not just with curiosity, but with expectation.

Something in Jungkook’s instincts told him that looking away would be a mistake. They wanted him to hold their gaze. It was a test, perhaps, or maybe just a display of the natural order—of dominance. So he did the only thing he could do.

He held their gaze.

His lips were dry, his throat tight, but still, he forced himself to speak, his voice quiet but steady in the hush of the falling snow.

“A-Are y-you… shifters?”

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then, in perfect synchrony—they nodded.

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat. The movement was small, subtle, but undeniable.

His heart pounded at the confirmation, but not in fear—at least, not entirely. There was relief, too. Because shifters were intelligent, sentient beings. They could understand him, he knew they could. He had experienced it before. Maybe, just maybe, they would listen.

The wind howled softly around them, the quiet snowfall adding to the stillness of the moment. Jungkook swallowed past the lump in his throat, his fingers curling into weak fists against his lap as he found the courage to ask his next question.

His voice came out smaller this time, barely above a whisper, uncertainty coating every syllable.

“W-What… are you doing in unmarked l-lands?”

The wolves did not respond immediately.

Instead, they simply continued to watch him. Their gazes heavy.

Assessing.

Judging.

And Jungkook—injured, freezing, and utterly alone—could do nothing but wait.

Jungkook’s heart pounded in his chest as he looked from one wolf to the other, their gaze unwavering. He opened his mouth again, only to find himself swallowed up by the weight of his own uncertainty. The way the wolves tilted their heads to the side, as if they didn’t quite understand him, made his stomach churn. Had he said something wrong? Was his question too naive, too human?

He swallowed thickly, trying to gather his thoughts, even as fear clouded his mind. He had been running, hiding, desperately trying to escape—he hadn’t thought about what territory he had crossed. Hadn’t thought about the land he had stepped onto, the boundaries he had crossed without a second thought.

But then, he remembered. The wolves... those who had once guided him, the wolves he had freed—they could understand him. So these creatures, these shifters—they could hear him too.

He tried again, voice trembling but determined.

“A-Am I in the u-unmarked lands?”

The two wolves exchanged a glance, their ears twitching. There was a soft rustle in the air as the wind carried their quiet communication between them. Then, without a sound, they shook their heads.

No.

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat, his thoughts racing. He blinked, stunned by the answer. He had been so sure, so certain that he had crossed into unmarked territory—into a place where he could be free. But now, it seemed like he had stumbled into something he didn’t understand.

Something he couldn’t have anticipated.

These were shifters, powerful beings who had the ability to cross between forms. They were far more complex than the wolves he had once lived with. And then, as the cold bit deeper into his bones, as his body fought against the ache of exhaustion and injury, he found himself asking a question he never thought he would have to.

“A-Am I... in s-shifter territory?”

He barely managed to force the words from his dry lips, but they felt heavy, weighted with the anxiety of his situation. The air felt even colder now, the wind brushing against his skin with a sharpness that made it hard to breathe. His heart hammered in his chest as he waited for their response, his entire body trembling—not just from the cold but from the fear of what he had come to realize.

The two wolves—so confident, so poised in their own power—once again turned to one another. The moment stretched on, stretching time to its very limits, until one by one, they slowly, subtly nodded their heads.

Yes.

Jungkook felt the air around him grow heavy, like the very weight of the realization had descended on him all at once. He was in their territory, on land that was not meant for human feet to tread. And even though his mind had been racing for days now, trying to survive in a world that had been so unforgiving to him, in this moment, he felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

He was in danger.

The wolves could do anything. They could tear him apart without hesitation. They could take him captive, drag him back to wherever they lived, or worse. He had heard stories—rumors whispered in the dark corners of his mind—about the wrath of shifters. What they could do to those who trespassed without permission.

He had to explain himself. There was no choice now but to try, to apologize, to make them understand—if they would even listen.

“I—I'm sorry,” Jungkook’s voice wavered, his words trembling as they spilled out.

“I had no idea... I-I didn't mean to trespass. I just—I was running, I-I was trying to get as far away as I could. P-Please... please understand. I didn’t mean any harm. I didn’t k-know where I was...”

His voice trailed off, but even as he spoke, the weight of his body pressed down on him. His leg throbbed painfully, and his head felt like it was spinning again, his vision blurring at the edges. The pain was relentless, like an old wound that had never quite healed, gnawing at his insides.

It came back with full force.

Jungkook’s breath hitched. He clutched his leg as his body trembled, the sudden sharpness of his pain causing him to whimper, a small sound slipping past his lips without his control. His body seemed to betray him at every turn—his mind racing, but his body weak, exhausted, too fragile to keep up.

The cold burned through his skin, the blood in his veins feeling like ice. The wind continued to sting his face, but the pain in his leg—sharp, relentless—drove everything else away.

And then, his vision began to blur again. He could barely keep his eyes open. The world felt far away, like he was losing grip on reality, sinking into a haze of numbness. His lips trembled as he looked at the wolves, his voice barely a whisper now.

“P-Please... don’t hurt me…”

He barely had the strength to say the words. He was on the edge of losing consciousness, his breath shallow as the cold pressed down on him, his leg screaming in agony. For a moment, there was nothing but the wind, the crunch of snow, and the silence of the wolves. The weight of his apology hung in the air, a fragile thing that could easily shatter.

And then...

The onyx wolf, with its dark crimson eyes, took a step forward.

The silver wolf with its piercing blue eyes remained in place, watching Jungkook closely. But it was the onyx wolf that moved closer, its massive form casting a shadow over the wounded human in the snow. It didn’t make any noise, no growl, no bark, just a steady, silent approach.

Jungkook’s breath hitched again as the wolf stood in front of him. The pain in his leg, in his head, began to feel distant as his eyes locked onto the beast’s.

This was it.

The wolf's deep red eyes seemed to hold something—an sense of understanding. He sniffed the air once, then lowered his head slightly, as if considering Jungkook. He wasn’t a threat. Not yet.

Jungkook didn’t know if it was an act of mercy or simply a momentary reprieve. All he knew was that he was caught between fear and relief, not knowing what the wolves would do next, and still too weak to fight for himself.

His body was trembling, a quiet, constant shaking that he couldn’t control. His legs ached, his head throbbed, and his chest felt tight as he whimpered again, the pain unbearable.

It wasn’t just the cold.

It wasn’t just his injuries.

It was everything—everything that had led him here. The desperation, the fear, the loneliness. His body seemed to crumble under the weight of it all.

He was freezing. He could feel the cold creeping deeper into his bones, gnawing at him from the inside. His breath came out in shaky, uneven gasps, and his lips felt like they were turning blue. The wolves watched him intently, their eyes never leaving him. He could feel their gaze, their silent scrutiny, and despite the terror that still gripped his heart, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Then, as if sensing his vulnerability, the silver wolf took a step forward. Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat as the wolf’s muzzle brushed against his head, a gentle nudge that was almost too tender, too careful.

The movement was so subtle, so calculated, that it didn’t bring pain, but it seemed to acknowledge his suffering. It was as though the wolf was aware, not just of his injuries, but of the overwhelming weight of his isolation.

Jungkook blinked up at the silver wolf, the tears that had frozen in his lashes falling free as he stared. He didn’t know what to think. Didn’t know what to feel. The wolf’s touch—its tenderness—felt too kind for the creature that it was.

But before he could gather his thoughts, the onyx wolf, with its deep crimson eyes, moved closer as well. Its gaze was unyielding, filled with an eerie intelligence, and it sniffed at his leg carefully, its cold nose brushing against his torn material of his pants. The silver wolf sat next to him, nuzzling his head again, this time more insistent, like it was trying to understand why he was so broken.

The onyx wolf stopped sniffing his leg, its gaze intensifying as it seemed to grasp the full extent of his pain. Jungkook couldn’t help but whimper again, unable to suppress the sob that rose in his chest. The wolves, seemingly able to sense his distress, grew still.

There was a low, almost imperceptible growl that rumbled deep in their throats, but it wasn’t menacing.

It wasn’t threatening.

It was… pitying.

Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat as he felt a shiver go down his spine. This wasn’t the kind of pity he had felt from humans—no, this was something different. This was an understanding, a quiet sorrow that echoed in the wolves' gazes.

He felt his breath catch in his throat as he fought to explain. His words were ragged, broken, as his body continued to tremble uncontrollably. The silver wolf nudged him once more, as if urging him to speak, to tell them why he was so hurt, why he was so afraid.

“I... I fell,” Jungkook managed to whisper, his voice cracking with pain.

“From a cliff. I-I don’t know… how long I’ve been here. I just… I don't know h-how long I’ve been alone. I-I..."

His words trailed off, lost in the onslaught of pain that suddenly flared up. His leg, his head—it all seemed to hurt more now that he had said it out loud, as if admitting his suffering made it all too real. The wolves were still watching him, their eyes soft but intense, and Jungkook couldn’t look away, even as tears streamed down his face.

“I—I’m so c-cold,” he whispered, his teeth chattering as he tried to keep his voice steady. “I j-just... I don’t know w-what to d-do anymore. I d-didn’t even realize how b-bad it had g-gotten until n-now...”

The silver wolf, its blue eyes glowing softly in the moonlight, nudged at his head again, this time with more tenderness, as if trying to soothe him. The onyx wolf didn’t move, but its crimson eyes flickered to the silver one, a low growl rumbling in its chest.

It was soft, almost mournful. Like it was grieving for him.

Jungkook’s heart twisted in his chest as the growls faded, replaced by a softness that he hadn’t expected. The wolves didn’t seem like the predators he had feared. They were powerful, undeniably dangerous, but right now, they seemed to be feeling something else—something like sympathy, like an unspoken understanding that Jungkook couldn’t quite place.

They were looking at him, not as prey, but as something else.

Something fragile.

Something worth… protecting?

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered shut for just a moment, his pain becoming too much to bear, his exhaustion consuming him. His breath grew shallow, his body sagging against the tree as he tried to stay conscious. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on. The cold was still clawing at his body, gnawing at him with an intensity he couldn’t fight, and his head… the sharp pain in his skull was becoming too much.

But then, the wolves’ eyes—their gaze—was the last thing he saw before everything went dark.

He didn’t even realize he had closed his eyes until he felt the warm pressure of something soft against his side. His mind was too hazy to comprehend anything clearly, but the wolves were still there.

He knew they were.

The darkness swallowed him whole, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Jungkook could no longer hear his own whimpers. No longer felt the weight of his injuries, the crushing burden of his pain.

But as the cold finally started to claim him, the last image he saw was the silver wolf’s glowing blue eyes, staring into him, as if offering him one final, unspoken promise:

You’re not alone anymore.

 

Notes:

Omg it's starting to get interesting !
Poor jungkook, still suffering. I swear it'll get better for him at some point !

Chapter 9: When the Darkness Fades

Summary:

Jungkook wakes up !!

Jungkook drifted between the waking world and the heavy pull of unconsciousness, his body sinking deeper into exhaustion. He felt like he was floating—suspended in a weightless abyss where neither pain nor reality could reach him. He was so tired, so unbearably tired that he swore he could sleep forever and never wake again. And maybe that wouldn’t be such a terrible thing.

His limbs felt like lead, too heavy to move, too frozen to lift. The ache in his body was dull at first, distant, like an echo of something that no longer mattered. He barely had the strength to recognize it, let alone fight it. But as the seconds ticked by, his awareness sharpened against his will, dragging him from the comforting darkness back into the raw edges of reality.

He didn’t want to wake up. He knew what waking up meant. Waking up meant running. It meant pushing through hunger and fatigue, forcing himself forward even when his legs felt like they would give out. It meant endless days of fearing the unknown, of wondering whether he would survive to see the next sunrise.

Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

No. He didn’t want to run anymore.

For a moment, he let himself exist in the silence, in the numbness of half-consciousness. But then, like ice-cold water pouring over his skin, memories started creeping in. Sungil. The suffocating walls of that house. The careful words, the calculated smiles, the month spent pretending. His escape. Running—endless, painful running—through the unmarked lands. Days on end, pushing forward despite the exhaustion clawing at his bones. The biting wind. The frozen ground beneath his aching feet. The gnawing hunger.

And then,

The fall.

The panic of losing his footing. The sickening weightlessness as the ground disappeared beneath him. The impact. The pure, blinding pain that had swallowed him whole. Jungkook’s breathing hitched slightly as the last memory surfaced, sharp and unrelenting.

The wolves.

The enormous beasts with eyes that burned into his soul. Onyx and silver, crimson and icy blue. He must have imagined them. Yes. It had to be a dream. His subconscious grasping at something familiar, something comforting, even in the midst of agony. He had hit his head—it made sense. Or he was slowly going insane. Wolves had been on his mind since the moment he freed them, so it was only natural that his mind would conjure them up in a fevered haze.

Besides, he wasn’t anywhere near shifter territory. He had been running in the opposite direction. Hadn’t he?

Jungkook frowned. He couldn’t be sure anymore. How far had he run? How long had he been out?

His fingers twitched slightly against the unfamiliar warmth beneath him. It was soft, not snow, not ice. The realization made his pulse stutter. He wasn’t lying on the frozen ground anymore. He wasn’t freezing to death in a pile of snow, waiting for the cold to claim him. Something was different.

His heart rate picked up despite his overwhelming exhaustion. He wanted to open his eyes, wanted to confirm where he was, but his body refused to cooperate. His limbs felt sluggish, weighted down by an exhaustion deeper than any he had ever known.

Maybe he really was dead.

The thought was strangely calming. If this was death, then it was far gentler than what the villagers would have done to him. Death didn’t demand anything of him. It didn’t ask him to keep running, to keep fighting. It simply held him here, wrapped in warmth, allowing him to rest. Jungkook let himself relax, sinking deeper into the comforting nothingness.

He would rest a little longer.

Just a little longer.

Unaware of the purple eyes watching him from the shadows.

—

The first thing Jungkook became aware of was sound.

Loud voices, sharp and agitated, cutting through the thick haze of his mind. The words were indistinct, blending together into an overwhelming noise that made his already pounding head throb harder.

Were they arguing? He wasn’t sure.

The voices rose and fell, overlapping in bursts of frustration, but his sluggish brain couldn’t make sense of them. He tried to open his eyes, but they were too heavy. Everything hurt—his head, his leg, even his fingers felt sore. His body was weighed down by exhaustion so deep it felt impossible to break free from. He attempted again, forcing his lashes to flutter, but a bright light pressed against his closed eyelids, too sharp, too intense. It sent a sharp pulse of pain through his skull, making him wince. He let out a small, involuntary whimper, unable to help himself.

And just like that, the voices stopped.

Complete silence.

The sudden stillness was eerie, unnatural. As if the entire room had frozen the moment they heard him. A shiver crawled down Jungkook’s spine, fear creeping in.

Where was he?

His heart pounded as fragmented memories resurfaced—the snow, the endless days of running, the storm. The fall. The wolves. Had it really been a dream? He didn't know. But if it hadn't been, then where was he now? The ground beneath him was soft. Too soft. The realization made his pulse quicken. He wasn’t on the forest floor anymore. He wasn’t lying on a bed of snow, frozen to the bone. There was warmth beneath him, something firm yet comfortable. A cot? A bed? That was impossible.

His last memory was of leaning against a tree, his body broken, his strength failing. He had resigned himself to whatever fate awaited him. There had been no shelter, no comfort, just the vast, merciless wilderness.

And yet, here he was.

The air smelled different. Not of damp earth and frost, but of something cleaner, something vaguely herbal. There was a lingering scent of firewood, of fur, of something deeply unfamiliar yet oddly calming. His stomach twisted with unease. He forced his fingers to twitch, testing his movement. His limbs ached, his right leg throbbed with a dull, insistent pain, but he could move. That meant he was alive, at least. Another pause, another breath. He gathered whatever strength he had left and tried again, this time managing to pry his eyes open just a sliver.

Light flooded his vision. Jungkook inhaled sharply, his pupils constricting as he struggled to adjust to the brightness. His lashes fluttered, and after a few agonizing seconds, his vision finally focused. And then,

His breath was stolen from his chest.

Standing in front of him, staring with piercing, deep purple eyes, was the most beautiful man Jungkook had ever seen. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

The man was tall, broad-shouldered, with wavy chestnut hair, rich and thick, strands catching the light like polished mahogany. His skin was smooth and golden-toned, warm in contrast to the cold world Jungkook had been lost in for so long. His features were sharp—high cheekbones, a straight, noble nose—but what held Jungkook captive was his mouth. Full, well-shaped lips, the kind that looked both soft and commanding at the same time.

But it was his eyes that truly stole Jungkook’s breath. A deep, mesmerizing purple, like amethyst glowing in the dim light. They held an intensity that sent a shiver through Jungkook’s body, something ancient and powerful lurking beneath the surface.

He looked… ethereal.

Like a being not of this world.

Jungkook’s lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. His chest tightened, fear and awe battling within him. The man—no, the shifter—stared at him, expression unreadable, gaze locked onto him with an unwavering intensity. Jungkook felt small under that gaze.

Weak. Helpless.

He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. It was as if something unseen tethered him in place, forcing him to hold eye contact. His pulse pounded in his ears, loud and erratic, but he was frozen, unable to move, unable to think. The silence stretched between them, thick with something unspoken. Jungkook didn’t know if he was safe. He didn’t know if this man was the reason he was here, the reason he was still alive. All he knew was that he had never seen anyone—or anything—like him before.

And that terrified him. Jungkook was speechless. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion, exhaustion, and pain, but none of that compared to the overwhelming presence of the man before him.

Everything else faded into the background, the lingering ache in his body, the dull throbbing in his leg, the way his skin burned from cold and injury. All of it became secondary the moment he met those deep purple eyes. He couldn’t speak. He wasn’t sure if he had forgotten how or if his throat had simply closed up, trapping any words he might have formed.

The man, this beautiful man, tilted his head slightly, as if considering him, taking in every detail of Jungkook’s expression. And then, after a few seconds of silence, he let out a soft hum, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile.

“You’re finally awake, sweetheart?”

Jungkook inhaled sharply.

The pet name, spoken in such a warm, low tone, sent an unfamiliar shiver down his spine. His heart skipped a beat, but whether it was from fear or something else, he wasn’t sure. The man didn’t seem to mind his silence. If anything, he looked vaguely amused by it, watching Jungkook’s reaction with a knowing gleam in his violet eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, voice smooth as honey.

Jungkook opened his mouth, tried to say something, anything, but his throat felt too tight. His mind was still reeling, struggling to process where he was, who this man was, and why he was being spoken to so gently.

All he could do was nod.

It was barely a movement, just the slightest dip of his chin, but the moment he did it, white-hot pain shot through his skull. His entire body tensed as the sharp ache behind his eyes returned in full force, making him wince.

The man clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Ah, don’t do that,” he lightly scolded, shaking his head.

“You’re hurt. You need to rest, sweetie.”

Jungkook swallowed, feeling small under the weight of that voice. He wasn’t used to this—to being spoken to so softly, so gently. And then, the man did something unexpected. Without hesitation, he leaned in, raising a hand toward Jungkook’s face.

Jungkook barely had time to process the movement before warm fingers were resting against his forehead. His entire body stiffened. The touch was light, careful, almost cautious—but still, Jungkook flinched. It wasn’t dramatic, just the smallest jerk, an automatic reaction he hadn’t meant to show.

But the man noticed. Of course, he noticed.

For a brief second, the man’s brows knit together, something unreadable flashing through his expression. But then, just as quickly, his features softened again, and his thumb moved the tiniest bit, a soothing motion against Jungkook’s temple.

“Easy,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m just checking your temperature. You’ve had a fever since we brought you in.”

Jungkook forced himself to stay still, his breath caught in his throat. The warmth of the man’s hand seeped into his skin, and it was… strange. Unfamiliar. Jungkook had been touched before, of course, but never like this. Never with such deliberate care. The only touches he had ever known were harsh, punishing, meant to hurt. People didn’t touch him to comfort him. They didn’t reach for him unless they wanted something from him.

And yet, here he was, lying in an unfamiliar place, under the watchful gaze of a man with wavy chestnut hair and amethyst-colored eyes, being touched so gently it nearly brought tears to his eyes. The man sighed softly, his fingers lingering for a second longer before pulling away.

“Still warm,” he murmured, as if speaking more to himself than to Jungkook. Then, his gaze returned to Jungkook’s, his expression unreadable once again. Jungkook had no idea what to say. What to do. He could only stare back, wide-eyed and uncertain, trapped in the presence of someone who felt like both a savior and something far more dangerous.

Jungkook watched in silence as the man shifted closer, perching himself on the edge of the bed with an air of quiet confidence. The movement was smooth, deliberate, as if he knew the weight of his presence and was careful not to overwhelm him any more than he already was. The bed barely dipped under his weight, but Jungkook felt it. He felt everything.

His senses were still too raw, his mind sluggish with exhaustion, but one thing was clear, this man was important. He wasn’t just anyone. Jungkook didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, the way he spoke with a quiet authority, or maybe it was the subtle way his presence filled the space, demanding attention without ever needing to raise his voice.

Then, he spoke.

“My name is Seokjin,” he said gently, his deep purple eyes watching Jungkook carefully, as if gauging his reaction.

“You don’t have to be scared. No one here will hurt you. I’m only trying to make sure you get better.”

Jungkook stared at him, taking in the words but struggling to fully comprehend them. Seokjin’s voice was soothing, steady, like a slow-moving river. There was no harshness in it, no coldness. It was warm, inviting, like the first rays of sunlight after a long, merciless winter.

He spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if kindness was something Jungkook should expect. But Jungkook didn’t know what to do with that. He had spent so long running, so long expecting cruelty, that the idea of someone genuinely caring about his well-being felt foreign. Seokjin must have sensed his hesitation because his expression softened even further.

“You’re in our village’s infirmary,” he continued, voice as calm as ever.

“This is shifter territory, sweetheart. You’re safe here.”

Safe.

The word made something in Jungkook’s chest twist painfully. Safe. He had spent his entire life chasing that feeling, yet it had always remained just out of reach, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. Could he really be safe here? The thought terrified him almost as much as it comforted him. Jungkook swallowed, his throat burning from dryness, from disuse. He knew he had to respond. Something deep inside told him that staying silent wasn’t an option, not with this man.

He licked his chapped lips, wincing slightly at the sting before forcing himself to speak.

“H-How…” His voice cracked, weak and hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“How did I get here?”

Seokjin’s eyes flickered with something. Relief, perhaps, at hearing Jungkook’s voice, but there was something else too, something softer, almost sorrowful. Jungkook wasn’t sure why, but that expression made his chest feel tight. Seokjin sighed, his full lips pressing together briefly before he answered.

“Our patrol found you.” His voice was still gentle, but there was something weighted in his tone now, something careful.

“You were deep in our territory, unconscious. You’d fallen from a cliff. You were injured, feverish. They brought you back here before the cold could take you.”

Jungkook blinked slowly, his mind struggling to process the words. So it wasn’t a dream. The storm, the fall, the wolves—it had all been real. For a moment, he had convinced himself that the sight of those massive wolves had been a hallucination brought on by pain and exhaustion. But if what Seokjin was saying was true, then they had been real. They had been shifters.

And they had saved him. Jungkook felt something tight in his throat, something dangerously close to emotion.

Why?

Why had they helped him?

Seokjin was watching him closely, waiting for a reaction, but Jungkook didn’t know what to say. He felt too many things at once—relief, confusion, uncertainty. He had expected to die out there. Had made peace with it, even. Yet here he was, lying in a warm bed, wrapped in clean blankets, under the watchful gaze of a man who looked at him like he mattered. Jungkook wasn’t sure what to do with that. So he just lay there, exhausted and bewildered, letting Seokjin’s words settle into his bones.

Jungkook hesitated.

The question was there, sitting heavy on his tongue, but it felt wrong to ask. It felt foolish, almost ungrateful. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself. He licked his lips, wincing at the dryness, and forced himself to speak.

“Why?” His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but Seokjin heard him. The man’s deep purple eyes focused on him immediately, brows lifting in silent question. Jungkook swallowed and tried again.

“Why did you save me?” His fingers curled slightly into the blanket that covered him, grasping at the fabric as if it could steady his racing thoughts.

“I’m… I’m human. Humans do terrible things to your kind.”

He didn’t know why he had said it like that. Maybe because it was the truth. Maybe because he didn’t understand why a pack of shifters would risk helping someone like him when humans had never given shifters anything but cruelty.

Seokjin’s expression softened. He looked at Jungkook as if he already knew the answer—knew that Jungkook wasn’t like those humans, that he was different. Jungkook didn’t know if he liked that. It made something uncomfortable stir inside him, something vulnerable. Still, Seokjin didn’t answer right away. He seemed to consider his words before finally speaking.

“That’s not my story to tell, sweetheart,” he said gently, tilting his head. “I wasn’t there.”

Jungkook blinked. That wasn’t what he expected.

Seokjin had spoken so kindly to him, had treated him with warmth, that Jungkook thought for sure he had been the one to find him. But now he was saying he hadn’t even been there. Before Jungkook could process that, Seokjin glanced to the side, his gaze shifting toward something—or rather, someone—Jungkook hadn’t noticed before.

Jungkook’s breath caught.

They weren’t alone.

Two figures stood at the far end of the room, just beyond the reach of the soft glow of the lantern light. They had been so still, so quiet, that Jungkook hadn’t realized they were there. His body tensed instinctively.

They were clearly shifters too. Jungkook could feel it. The air around them was different—thick with something unspoken, something powerful. Their presence was strong, commanding, yet they didn’t make a move toward him. They were close enough to the bed to watch him, to assess him, but not close enough to crowd him. Like they were keeping their distance. Like they were wary of him.

Jungkook didn’t understand why. He was human, frail and broken. He was no threat to them, not in the slightest. And yet, the way they stood, the way they held themselves, it was as if they were prepared for something.

Not afraid. No, they didn’t look afraid. But they were… alert. As if they were prepared for him to do something reckless. Seokjin sighed, as if he had expected this reaction. He turned his gaze back to Jungkook, voice as calm as ever.

“These two,” he gestured subtly toward them, “are the ones who found you.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched. The ones who found him. The ones who had pulled him from the snow, who had carried him back to safety, who had saved him from dying alone in the cold. Jungkook didn’t know what to say. His heart pounded in his chest, too many emotions swirling inside him.

Relief.

Confusion.

Gratitude.

But beneath it all, a strange sense of unease. Because these two men, these shifters, hadn’t moved. Hadn’t spoken. They were watching him. Assessing him. And Jungkook wasn’t sure if they saw a boy who needed saving or a human who didn’t belong.

Jungkook felt small.

Under the unwavering gaze of the three shifters in the room, he was painfully aware of how out of place he was, how weak he must have looked. A fragile human among creatures far stronger, far more powerful than he could ever dream to be. He swallowed thickly, his throat dry, feeling as though he was being measured, assessed, and he didn’t know if he would ever measure up. He couldn’t just lie there like this.

The vulnerability of being flat on his back, helpless and exposed, made his skin crawl. He had spent too many nights in the village knowing what it meant to be powerless, trapped. He wouldn’t let himself feel that way here. Not again. So, with what little strength he had left, Jungkook tried to sit up. Immediately, pain tore through his body like wildfire. His ribs ached, his leg throbbed, and his head swam so violently he nearly blacked out. His body screamed at him to stop, to stay still, to let himself rest, but Jungkook didn’t listen.

He couldn’t. He clenched his jaw and forced himself up further, only to be met with a sharp, scolding voice.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Jungkook barely had time to register the disapproving look on the man’s face before hands were on his shoulders, firm but careful, trying to push him back down.

“You shouldn’t be moving,” Seokjin chided, his voice firm but laced with concern.

“You’re still injured. Do you want to make it worse?”

Jungkook whimpered. He couldn’t help it, the pain was unbearable. A pitiful sound escaped his throat, but he still stubbornly pushed forward, forcing himself up, not caring how much it hurt. Seokjin let out an exasperated sigh but, seeing that Jungkook wasn’t going to stop, he took pity on him. With a gentler touch this time, he reached out and helped him, steadying him as he finally managed to sit upright.

Jungkook exhaled shakily, his entire body trembling with the effort. Everything hurt. But at least he was up. At least he felt a little more in control. He finally took in his surroundings. The room was small, almost bare. Just his bed, a wooden desk tucked into the corner, and a chair that looked worn from years of use. It wasn’t much, but it was more than he had expected. The space was illuminated by soft, flickering lantern light, casting long shadows along the walls.

Nighttime.

How long had he been unconscious? The thought sent a shiver down his spine, but before he could dwell on it, his gaze drifted back to the two unfamiliar shifters standing at the other end of the room. And suddenly, everything clicked. The realization hit him so hard it almost knocked the breath from his lungs. His heart pounded, hands gripping the thin blanket covering him as he stared.

The eyes.

How had he not noticed sooner?

One pair was a deep, searing crimson—like glowing embers burning in the darkness. The other was a piercing icy blue, sharp and cold like a winter storm. He had seen those eyes before. He had looked into them as he lay broken in the snow, weak and helpless, on the verge of death.

The wolves.

These men…

They weren’t strangers. They were the ones who had found him. They were the ones who had saved him. And now, standing before him in their human forms, it all seemed so painfully obvious. The way they carried themselves, exuding quiet strength, dominance. The way they stood near Seokjin, close enough to protect but distant enough to keep an eye on Jungkook, watching him with sharp, calculating gazes. Jungkook had known they were shifters the moment he had laid eyes on them. But now, knowing exactly who they were, an entirely new kind of fear settled deep in his chest.

What did they see when they looked at him? Did they regret saving him? Did they think he was weak?

Useless?

Jungkook clenched his fists beneath the blanket, his nails digging into his palms. He hated this. Hated feeling like a burden. Hated feeling like he didn’t belong. His breath came out uneven, his body tense despite the overwhelming exhaustion pulling at him. He should thank them. He wanted to thank them. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he just sat there, feeling impossibly small under their watchful gazes, unsure if he should be grateful for their kindness or terrified of what they might expect in return.

The tension in the room was suffocating.

Jungkook sat there, his body weak and aching, his heart beating far too fast in his chest. He felt cornered, caged in by the heavy gazes of the two shifters standing before him. Their eyes burned into him, unreadable, unwavering. They did not move, did not speak. Just watched.

They didn’t trust him. Jungkook knew that. He understood it.

And yet, the weight of their silence, the way they seemed to hesitate even to acknowledge him, made his throat tighten. He was used to being looked at like this, not with curiosity or kindness, but with suspicion. As if they were just waiting for him to give them a reason to throw him back out into the cold. His fingers clenched the thin blanket draped over him, gripping it tightly in his lap.

Why had they saved him if they hated him already? Sensing his distress, Seokjin let out a frustrated sigh and turned to the other two shifters. His lips pulled into a slight frown, his expression disapproving.

“Would you two stop scaring my cute little patient?” he scolded, voice sharp yet affectionate. “Honestly, I swear you act more like wild animals than actual people sometimes.”

Jungkook blinked, startled by the teasing tone in Seokjin’s voice.

Cute?

Seokjin was scolding them for making him uncomfortable? He hadn’t expected anyone to speak up for him, especially not against them. The two shifters didn’t react at first, their expressions unreadable, but Jungkook caught the way their shoulders tensed slightly.

Seokjin sighed again, exasperated. “At least introduce yourselves, for Moon’s sake. You dragged the poor thing here, the least you could do is give him your names instead of just looming over him like a couple of territorial beasts.”

Jungkook glanced hesitantly between the two shifters, watching as they exchanged a look. They didn’t seem eager to give him anything, not even something as simple as their names. Jungkook swallowed, feeling the rejection settle in his chest like a stone. But then, as if knowing they had no choice, the taller of the two finally spoke.

“…Namjoon.”

The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down Jungkook’s spine.

Cold.

Strong.

Unyielding.

His words were not an offering but a warning.

“I’m the pack alpha,” Namjoon continued, his gaze sharp, unwavering. “This is my territory, my pack, my people.”

Jungkook could feel the power in his words, the way they settled over the room like a heavy weight. It wasn’t just a statement, it was a declaration. A reminder of where Jungkook stood in all of this. Namjoon’s posture was rigid, his presence commanding, as if the air around him bent to his will. His eyes, that piercing crimson, held a quiet intensity. A predator assessing a potential threat. Jungkook knew, instinctively, that this man was dangerous. That he was not someone to be crossed.

“If you hurt my pack,” Namjoon said, his voice low and calm in a way that was far more terrifying than if he had raised it,

“I will protect them.”

Jungkook inhaled sharply. It wasn’t an if, it was a when. A clear threat. As if Namjoon already expected Jungkook to betray them. As if he knew that, in the end, Jungkook would be just like the rest of his kind, just another human who saw shifters as monsters, just another threat waiting to happen. Jungkook clenched his fists beneath the blanket, nails biting into his palms.

It wasn’t fair.

He hadn’t done anything.

Did Namjoon really think he wanted to be here? That he had chosen this? Jungkook wanted to be angry, but he couldn’t. They had every right to be wary of him. He wanted to tell Namjoon that he understood, that if their roles were reversed, he would probably distrust him, too. But it didn’t make it hurt any less. It didn’t change the fact that, once again, he was an outcast.

Unwanted.

Unwelcome.

His chest ached, but not from the wounds littering his body. He was used to this. Being seen as something worthless. Something untrustworthy. Something less. So Jungkook forced himself to nod. Small. Barely noticeable. But he didn’t argue. Didn’t defend himself. Didn’t tell Namjoon that he had never hurt anyone, that all he had ever done was run. Because in the end, it didn’t matter. He had never belonged anywhere before. And it seemed like that wouldn’t change now.

Jungkook sat there, silent, as Namjoon’s words echoed in his mind.

"I will protect my pack."

A warning.

A reminder.

Jungkook knew, deep down, that he had no right to expect kindness from them. He was a stranger, worse, he was human. And humans had done terrible things to shifters. But it still stung. He forced himself to swallow down the bitterness rising in his throat, pushing away the lump that threatened to form. Instead, he let his gaze drift, forcing himself to focus on something else.

And that something else was Namjoon.

The man was tall, broad-shouldered, built like a warrior sculpted by the gods themselves. Power radiated from him in a way that Jungkook had never experienced before, it was quiet power, restrained but undeniable. Like a storm resting just beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to unleash its full force.

His features were sharp, all strong lines and angles. A chiseled jawline, dark brown hair, thick eyebrows, and eyes that burned with an intensity that made it hard to look away. Dragon’s eyes. Seokjin had been beautiful, almost ethereal in the way his features were soft and delicate, kind eyes, full lips, a face that felt warm and welcoming. But Namjoon’s beauty was entirely different.

Seokjin was gorgeous.

Namjoon was handsome.

Two completely different types of beauty, yet both equally striking. Jungkook wasn’t sure which one was more intimidating. And then, before he could think too deeply about it, the second man finally spoke.

“Yoongi.”

Jungkook flinched at the sound of his voice.

Cold.

Detached.

If Namjoon had been cold, then this was ice itself. Jungkook’s eyes darted toward him, finally taking in the second shifter properly. Yoongi was shorter than both Namjoon and Seokjin but his presence was no less commanding. In fact, it was almost more frightening.

Where Namjoon exuded the kind of strength that demanded attention, Yoongi was different. He was quiet, but not in a way that made him seem weak. No, his silence was suffocating, like a predator who knew he didn’t need to make his presence known to be feared. And Jungkook did fear him. Or, at the very least, he almost did.

Because despite Yoongi’s smaller stature, despite the way he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, appearing as if he couldn’t care less about Jungkook’s existence, there was something dangerous about him.

Something sharp.

Something lethal.

His wavy black hair framed his face, falling just above his eyes, deep, piercing blue eyes that held no warmth, no welcome. He was terrifyingly beautiful. If Namjoon’s gaze was heavy, Yoongi’s was suffocating.

“I brought you here with Namjoon,” he said flatly. His tone lacked any emotion, as if he was merely stating a fact rather than acknowledging Jungkook as an actual person.

“But that doesn’t mean we trust you, in fact, we don't.”

Jungkook felt his stomach drop.It wasn’t unexpected. It wasn’t a surprise. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Yoongi’s expression remained unreadable, his gaze unwavering.

“You’re human.” He said it like it was a curse. Like it was something vile, something tainted.

“And as an alpha,” Yoongi continued, his voice remaining cool, calm, but undeniably firm, “I will protect my pack.”

There it was again. Another warning. Another reminder that Jungkook didn’t belong here. Jungkook lowered his head slightly, gripping the blanket in his lap a little tighter. He understood. Of course he understood. He didn’t expect to be welcomed with open arms. But it still made him feel small.

Yoongi was shorter than both Namjoon and Seokjin, but somehow, he felt larger than life. The sheer weight of his presence, the way he carried himself, the unshakable confidence in his stance Jungkook could almost see the power rolling off of him. It was intimidating. More than that, it was terrifying. But above all, it was a reminder.

Jungkook was not one of them and they would never let him forget it.

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, thick with tension. The weight of the alphas' gazes pressed down on Jungkook, making him feel even smaller than he already did. He couldn’t escape the overwhelming presence of Namjoon and Yoongi, their silent scrutiny wrapping around him like chains.

It was suffocating.

Seokjin, however, seemed far less affected by their intensity. With a huff, he rolled his eyes and turned toward them, clearly unimpressed by their behavior.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Seokjin said, crossing his arms over his chest. His soft features hardened into something more authoritative, something that left no room for argument.

“If you two are just going to stand there and glare at him, then you might as well leave. I don’t need you intimidating my patient when he’s barely even conscious.”

Neither of the alphas moved. Neither of them spoke. But Jungkook noticed the way their shoulders tensed ever so slightly, the way Namjoon’s jaw tightened and Yoongi’s fingers twitched against his crossed arms. They didn’t leave. But they did, at least, stop staring at him so intensely. Jungkook let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Seokjin turned back to him and offered a small, reassuring smile.

“Don’t mind them,” he said gently. “It’s instinct. They feel threatened by your presence.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows, confused.

“Threatened ?” His voice was still rough from disuse, but the disbelief was clear in his tone. “I’m not a threat to anyone…”

Seokjin hummed, tilting his head as he observed him. “Maybe not,” he admitted. “But you’re still human, and that alone is enough to make them wary.”

Jungkook lowered his gaze, gripping the blanket draped over his lap.

Right.

That.

That was the real problem, wasn’t it? He wasn’t one of them. No matter what he did, no matter how harmless he was, he would always be an outsider. A stranger in their world. Seokjin sighed and softened his tone.

“We don’t come across humans very often,” he explained, “and when we do… it’s usually not a good experience.”

Jungkook’s stomach twisted. Of course. He should’ve known. Humans had never been kind to shifters. Not in the past, and certainly not now. He had seen it firsthand in his own village—had lived through it. The way his people had spoken about shifters, the way they had feared them, had hated them. It had been ingrained into their beliefs that shifters were nothing more than beasts, that they were dangerous, wild, incapable of being reasoned with. And yet… Jungkook had never believed that. How could he, when the real monsters had been the very people who had raised him? Seokjin’s expression turned more serious.

“So I have to ask…” He leaned forward slightly, searching Jungkook’s eyes for any sign of dishonesty.

“Do you plan on causing trouble?” he asked. “On hurting my pack?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. It took him a second to process the question, but when he did, his entire body jerked in protest.

“What?” His voice came out breathless, almost offended. “No ! I would never... I-I wouldn’t even think about it!”

The sheer horror in his voice must have been convincing, because Seokjin’s features softened.

“I didn’t think so,” Seokjin admitted. “But I still had to ask.”

Jungkook swallowed, his throat dry. He clenched his fists in the fabric of the blanket, shaking his head slightly.

“I wouldn’t hurt anyone,” he whispered. “I just… I just wanted to get away.”

Seokjin’s gaze lingered on him, searching, before he finally nodded in understanding.

“I believe you.”

And for the first time since waking up in this unfamiliar place,

Jungkook felt the slightest bit of relief.

Notes:

Poor jungkook finally gets a break ! (Of the cold and wilderness at least ah ah)
I swear Namjoon and Yoongi are sweethearts, they're just doing what they think is right.

See y'all !

Chapter 10: Gentle Hands

Summary:

Just Jin fussing over his cute human patient, but I mean, I would too.

As Jungkook lies in the infirmary, the scent of antiseptic in the air, Seokjin watches him carefully. The beta’s gaze is warm, though there’s a hint of curiosity in his eyes. He’s been quiet for a while and now, with a soft smile, he finally speaks. His voice is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to startle Jungkook.

“What’s your name sweetheart ?” he asks, his tone light but genuine.

Jungkook, still groggy from the long hours of sleep and recovery, blinks slowly, as if processing the question from this stranger who’s been nothing but kind to him. The soft feeling of safety, the warmth that’s surrounded him ever since he woke up, causes Jungkook to feel a little more vulnerable than usual.

“Jungkook,” he finally answers, his voice small but clear.

The moment he says it, he feels a sense of relief, like he’s allowed to be seen, to be known by these people who’ve shown him kindness despite his weaknesses. Seokjin smiles brightly at him, his eyes twinkling with that same warmth.

“Jungkook,” he repeats the name softly, as if savoring the sound of it, before he leans in a little closer, his voice lowering in a teasing tone.

“It suits you.” Jungkook feels a faint blush creep up his neck, not used to the attention.

Seokjin’s friendly demeanor and soft words offer him a strange sense of comfort, making the tension in Jungkook’s chest ease just a little and even in his weakened state, exhaustion weighing down on his limbs and pain thrumming in every inch of his body, Jungkook couldn't suppress the quiet curiosity bubbling in his chest.

They had to be shifters.

The very beings his grandmother had spoken of in hushed yet reverent tones when he was a child.

She had always described them as magnificent creatures—powerful, untamed, and deeply connected to the earth’s energy. They were not like humans, she had said. They were better. Free in a way that humans would never be. Stronger. Faster. They shared unbreakable bonds, bonds so profound they could communicate without words, feel each other's emotions as if they were their own.

Even as a child, Jungkook had been fascinated by her stories. Even as a child, he had wanted to believe. And now… now he was here, surrounded by them. He had seen their bonds firsthand—the wolves he had freed, the way they had moved together, understood each other in a way no human ever could. He had spent so long thinking it was nothing more than a fantasy. That his grandmother had merely been an old woman longing for a world that no longer existed.

But it did exist.

It was real.

And Jungkook wanted to know more. But… would his questions make them more wary of him? Would they think he was trying to gather information with bad intentions? He would never—Jungkook knew that. But they didn’t. They didn’t know him, didn’t know that he had risked his own life to free their kind. That he had spent years silently rejecting the cruelty of his own people. To them, he was still just a human.

Still an outsider.

But even so… his curiosity burned too strongly to be ignored. After hesitating for a few moments, he finally worked up the courage to ask, voice still hoarse from disuse.

“Are you… an alpha as well?”

The question was directed at Seokjin, and for a second, the man blinked in surprise.

Then—

Laughter.

A loud, bright, unrestrained laugh burst from Seokjin’s lips, filling the small infirmary room like a melody. Jungkook flinched, startled, eyes widening as he watched the older man tip his head back slightly, his chest shaking with laughter. Even Namjoon and Yoongi looked momentarily stunned before their expressions shifted, Namjoon’s lips twitching, Yoongi sighing deeply, as if already resigned to whatever nonsense Seokjin was about to spew.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Seokjin wheezed between chuckles, wiping at the corner of his eye, completely amused by the question.

“Me? An alpha?”

Jungkook shrank in on himself, confused by the reaction but also mildly embarrassed.

“I—I just thought—”

“Oh no, no, no,” Seokjin interrupted, waving a hand as he tried to control his laughter.  “I mean, thank you, truly. I’ll take that as a compliment because I must be exuding power or something—but no.”

Jungkook blinked.

“Then… what are you?”

Seokjin placed a hand over his chest dramatically.

“I, my dear, am a beta.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows, glancing between the three shifters in the room. He knew about the different dynamics, of course. Alpha, beta, omega. His grandmother had explained it to him once, though it had always been vague. He understood the basics—alphas led, omegas nurtured, and betas balanced. But there had never been betas in his village, nor omegas. Only humans, and humans had no such ranks.

“Betas can heal, can’t they?” Jungkook asked, tilting his head slightly. He recalled the way Seokjin had placed a gentle hand on his forehead earlier, checking for fever. The way he seemed comfortable in a caretaker role. Seokjin beamed at him, clearly pleased by Jungkook’s knowledge.

“Yes, we can! Among other things. We don’t have the same instincts as alphas and omegas, but that means we’re usually the calmest of the bunch.” He shot Namjoon and Yoongi a pointed look.

“Unlike some people.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, arms still crossed over his broad chest. Jungkook hesitated, glancing at Seokjin again.

“So you’re… not a fighter?”

Seokjin huffed dramatically.

“Do I look like a fighter?”

Jungkook looked at him, really looked at him—the delicate but sharp features, the soft yet confident demeanor, the way his wavy chestnut hair framed his face perfectly, how his deep purple eyes held warmth instead of coldness.

“…No,” Jungkook admitted.

“Exactly!” Seokjin grinned. “Why fight when I can just talk people into doing what I want?”

Jungkook was quickly learning that Seokjin was nothing like the alphas beside him. He was playful where they were cold. Soft where they were sharp. Warm where they were distant. And maybe… that was exactly why Jungkook found it easier to trust him.

Seokjin sighed, shaking his head with an amused smile.

“You’re adorable, you know that? I swear, if you weren’t so small and pitiful-looking right now, I’d be answering all your questions just to watch you get flustered.”

Jungkook wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he stayed quiet, simply blinking up at the beta as warmth bloomed across his cheeks. Seokjin’s smile softened as he reached down and brushed a stray lock of hair from Jungkook’s forehead.

“But I can tell you’re getting tired again, sweetheart. And you still have a fever.” His voice was gentle but firm, laced with an undeniable authority despite the tenderness in his tone.

“We can talk more later. Right now, you need to eat.”

Jungkook blinked at that, momentarily distracted, but the words you need to eat made something in his chest tighten. Because he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. Days? Weeks? No, not weeks. He wouldn’t still be breathing if it had been weeks, but it felt like it. His stomach ached—not from hunger, but from emptiness, from having been deprived for so long that it had grown used to not expecting anything. But despite that, Jungkook barely registered Seokjin’s words, his mind already wandering somewhere else.

Because now that he was a little more aware, the memory of what had woken him in the first place resurfaced.

The voices.

The arguing.

He remembered it now—loud, sharp voices, filled with tension. He hadn’t recognized them at the time, had been too groggy to even process what was being said, but there was no doubt in his mind that they had been fighting.

Over him.

A human in their village. A stranger. An intruder. Jungkook’s chest clenched uncomfortably. He had no idea what had been said, but he could guess. They didn’t trust him. They probably hated him. And he couldn’t blame them. His existence here was a problem, a disruption in their carefully maintained balance. He was an outsider, an enemy by default.

He had to leave.

It didn’t matter that he was still weak, still aching. He had survived this long—he could keep surviving. It was better than being a burden.

“I’m grateful,” Jungkook said suddenly, voice hoarse but determined. His gaze met Seokjin’s, serious despite the exhaustion written all over his face.

“For everything. For saving me. But… I don’t want you to fight because of me.”

Seokjin’s expression shifted slightly, his easygoing demeanor faltering for just a second. But Jungkook didn’t let himself waver.

“I don’t want to intrude,” he continued, swallowing against the lump forming in his throat.

“I—I’ll go back to the unmarked lands.”

He tried to sit up, tried to push himself out of bed, but the moment he moved, the world spun. Pain shot through his body like a wave, his muscles too weak to hold him up. Before he could even think about standing, a firm hand pressed against his shoulder, halting him with gentle but unyielding strength.

“Absolutely not,” Seokjin said, and for the first time since Jungkook had met him, his voice was sharp.

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat. Gone was the playful teasing, the amused smirks, the lighthearted warmth. Seokjin looked at him now with real worry—his full lips pressed into a thin line, his deep purple eyes filled with something heavy.

“Where do you think you’re going, huh?” Seokjin scolded, gripping Jungkook’s shoulders just tightly enough to keep him from trying again.

“You think you can just stand up and walk out of here like you’re not barely clinging to consciousness?”

Jungkook’s breath was shaky, and he couldn’t quite meet Seokjin’s gaze.

“I—”

“You what?” Seokjin interrupted, voice incredulous.

“You think you’re just fine? You think I'm going to let you wander back out there to die?”

Jungkook flinched at the words, at the sheer intensity behind them. Seokjin sighed, his hands loosening slightly but not leaving Jungkook’s shoulders. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, but no less firm.

“You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.” His expression was serious, leaving no room for argument.

“You’re injured. You have a fever. You’re weak. And I refuse to let you step even a foot outside this infirmary when you’re like this.”

Jungkook’s eyes burned, something in his chest tightening unbearably.

“But—”

“No,” Seokjin cut him off again. “This isn’t up for discussion.”

Jungkook swallowed hard, his fingers trembling slightly as he gripped the blanket beneath him.

“I don’t belong here,” he whispered.

Seokjin’s features softened, but his grip remained steady.

“You do right now.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched.

“You don’t have to prove anything,” Seokjin continued gently.

“You don’t have to fight for survival every second of the day. Not here. Not right now.”

Jungkook’s vision blurred slightly, and he bit down on his bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

“I know you don’t trust us yet,” Seokjin said, voice warm but unwavering. “And I know we don’t trust you yet, either. But that doesn’t mean we’re going to let you throw yourself back into the wild like some wounded animal.”

Seokjin sighed, his hands squeezing Jungkook’s shoulders lightly before letting go.

“You will stay here,” he said, softer now but still undeniably firm. “You will rest. And you will eat, because I didn’t go through the trouble of making you food just for you to ignore it.”

Jungkook blinked at him, still overwhelmed, but Seokjin only smiled.

“Understand?”

Jungkook hesitated. And then, slowly, he nodded. He had never been pampered before. Not like this. Not in a way that felt genuine, in a way that made something foreign and fragile bloom in his chest. Seokjin had refused to let him eat on his own, insisting that Jungkook was still too weak to lift a spoon properly, that he needed to save every ounce of his energy. And despite the small flicker of embarrassment that Jungkook felt at being fed like a child, he knew Seokjin was right.

His limbs still ached, his fingers still trembled from exhaustion, and even the simple task of keeping himself upright in the bed felt like an effort. So he didn’t fight it. He simply let Seokjin take care of him.

The other two wolves—Namjoon and Yoongi—hadn’t left, their presence still looming in the room, but Jungkook noticed that their gazes weren’t as sharp as before. They weren’t hostile anymore, just… observing.

Watching.

It was a strange feeling—to be watched so intently by creatures he had only ever heard about in stories.

But when Namjoon finally spoke, his deep voice cutting through the quiet room, Jungkook nearly jumped.

“You better listen to Jin,” the alpha said, arms crossed over his broad chest. “He won’t take no for an answer, especially from a patient.”

Jungkook blinked up at him, momentarily stunned before he nodded, voice small and soft.

“Okay,” he murmured, barely above a whisper.

Seokjin huffed, clearly pleased, and lifted a spoonful of stew to Jungkook’s lips.

“Good boy.”

Jungkook's heart flutters at the pet name. He hesitates for only a second before parting his lips and allowing Seokjin to feed him. The moment the warm stew hit his tongue, his eyes widened slightly. It was good. No—it was incredible. The rich, savory taste of beef, the hearty mix of vegetables and herbs, the perfectly seasoned broth that warmed him from the inside out—it was more than just food.

It was comfort.

It was a reminder of something Jungkook had never really had—a home. He swallowed thickly, letting the warmth settle in his stomach before glancing up at Seokjin with wide, tired eyes.

“Did you… make this?” he asked, voice hoarse.

Seokjin’s lips curled into a satisfied smile.

“Of course I did.”

Jungkook nodded slowly, licking his lips.

“It’s really good.”

Seokjin beamed, as if Jungkook had just given him the highest possible compliment.

“Well, of course it is,” he said, scooping up another spoonful. “I’m the best cook in the entire village.”

Jungkook wasn’t sure if that was true or if Seokjin was simply that confident, but either way, he found himself trusting the beta’s words. Seokjin shifted slightly, his purple gaze flickering over Jungkook’s thin frame before he sighed, shaking his head.

“You need to gain some weight,” he said, a slight scold in his tone. “You’re clearly malnourished.”

Jungkook bit his lip, not sure how to respond to that. He knew he was malnourished. He knew he was too thin, too weak, too fragile. But it wasn’t as if he had much of a choice. Seokjin must have noticed his hesitation because his expression softened, and after a moment, he asked gently,

“When was the last time you ate?”

Jungkook blinked. His lips parted slightly, but no answer came out. Because he didn’t know. He honestly couldn’t remember. Days? Definitely. But how many days? Had it been before the fall? Before the wolves? His stomach had stopped growling a long time ago, the hunger replaced by a constant emptiness that he had learned to ignore.

“I… don’t know,” he admitted finally, voice barely above a whisper.

Seokjin’s grip on the spoon tightened, his jaw clenching slightly. Jungkook could feel the shift in the air, the way the tension in the room thickened. Even Namjoon and Yoongi, who had remained silent up until now, seemed to stiffen. Jungkook lowered his gaze, suddenly ashamed. He hadn’t meant to make them angry. He hadn’t meant to be pitiful. Seokjin exhaled slowly, as if trying to keep himself calm, before reaching out and brushing Jungkook’s hair back from his forehead.

“Well,” he said, voice warm but firm, “you’ll never go that long without eating again. Not while I’m around.”

Jungkook swallowed hard, his throat feeling tight. He wasn’t sure what to say. So he just let Seokjin feed him another spoonful of stew, trying to ignore the way his chest ached with something too big to name.

--

A whole week passed like this, in a strange, steady rhythm.

Seokjin tended to Jungkook every day without fail, checking his wounds, helping him sit up when he needed it, ensuring he ate every meal without protest. If Jungkook so much as hesitated to take another bite, Seokjin would give him a look—one that brokered no argument—and Jungkook would obediently open his mouth.

Despite the motherly care, Seokjin was also firm, making sure Jungkook didn’t overexert himself. And when he wasn’t scolding him for trying to do too much too fast, he was chattering about the village, about his packmates, and occasionally about his cooking. And then there were them.

Namjoon and Yoongi.

The two alphas made it a point to check on Jungkook every single day, though their reasons were… different. Jungkook wasn’t naive—he knew their visits weren’t out of kindness, at least not entirely. They still didn’t trust him. They weren’t watching over him to comfort him but rather to ensure he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

Jungkook supposed he couldn’t blame them. He was an outsider, a human, and from what Seokjin had told him, most human encounters with shifters weren’t exactly pleasant. Even so, their presence was something Jungkook had started to grow accustomed to.

Namjoon was always quiet but observant, his piercing dragon-like eyes studying Jungkook with careful scrutiny. There was something intense about him, something that made Jungkook feel small under his gaze. But at the same time, the alpha never acted out of aggression—his presence, though overwhelming, was steady.

Reliable.

Yoongi, on the other hand, was unreadable.

He wasn’t as outwardly intimidating as Namjoon, but his presence was heavy all the same. His icy blue eyes carried a certain sharpness, like he could see straight through Jungkook’s soul. He was a man of few words, his voice always cool and direct when he did choose to speak.

But Jungkook noticed the way Yoongi’s eyes lingered on him sometimes. Not with suspicion, but with something else. Something that almost resembled… curiosity?

The days bled into each other, and with three full meals a day, Jungkook could feel his strength returning. It wasn’t much, his body was still weak, his limbs still stiff from lack of use, but at least the constant pain had started to ease.

His head no longer throbbed as violently, the wound healing nicely thanks to Seokjin’s careful treatment. He could sit up for longer periods of time without feeling lightheaded, and even the deep exhaustion that had weighed him down since waking up had begun to lighten.

But his leg…

His leg was another matter entirely. Jungkook had known it was bad, had known from the very moment he had hit the ground that something was wrong. But hearing Seokjin confirm it had only made the reality sink in further.

His ankle was broken.

His leg itself wasn’t broken, but it had sustained significant damage from the fall.

Jungkook had expected as much. The pain had been unbearable in the beginning, but now, with a week of rest and treatment, it had dulled into something more manageable. Still, even the thought of standing sent a sharp ache through his limb.

Seokjin had been the one to bring it up.

It was late in the evening, the lanterns in the small infirmary room casting a warm glow over the wooden walls. Jungkook was sitting up in bed, his blanket draped over his lap as Seokjin carefully checked his injured leg, running gentle fingers over the bandages wrapped around his ankle.

“Does it still hurt?” Seokjin asked, glancing up at him.

Jungkook nodded.

“Not as much, but yeah.”

Seokjin hummed thoughtfully, pressing a little against the area near his ankle, careful not to apply too much pressure.

“You know,” Seokjin started, “shifters don’t usually get injuries like this.”

Jungkook blinked. “You don’t?”

Seokjin shook his head, lips curving into a small smile.

“Not unless we’re severely wounded in battle, and even then, we heal quickly. A broken bone like this would take maybe a week for us.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed slightly. “That fast?”

“Mmhmm.” Seokjin tilted his head. “That’s why I wanted to ask, how long does it usually take for humans to heal from something like this?”

Jungkook exhaled slowly, thinking.

“A few weeks, at least,” he answered. “Maybe even longer, depending on how bad it is.”

Seokjin hummed again, nodding as if filing the information away.

“Well,” he said, “it won’t take quite as long for you.”

Jungkook tilted his head in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Seokjin grinned. “Shifter remedies.”

Jungkook frowned slightly. “Shifter remedies?”

Seokjin chuckled at his confusion, sitting back on the edge of the bed.

“We have healing herbs and medicines that speed up recovery. You won’t heal as fast as one of us, but it’ll still be quicker than a normal human recovery.”

Jungkook’s lips parted slightly. He hadn’t even considered that possibility. That would explain why his head injury had healed so quickly.

“Wait,” Jungkook said, blinking. “You’ve already been using them on me, haven’t you?”

Seokjin smirked. “Of course I have.”

Jungkook’s mouth opened, then closed again. That… made sense. Seokjin had been applying all sorts of herbal pastes to his wounds, had made him drink bitter tonics that tasted awful but seemed to ease his pain. He hadn’t realized until now just how effective they had been.

“You’re lucky,” Seokjin continued, “that you were found by us and not someone else. If you’d been left in the unmarked lands any longer…”

He trailed off, but Jungkook didn’t need him to finish the sentence. He knew what would have happened. The cold would have claimed him, or worse, he would have been found by something not as merciful as Namjoon and Yoongi. Jungkook swallowed hard, shifting slightly under the weight of that realization. Seokjin must have noticed because his expression softened.

“You don’t have to think about that anymore,” he said gently. “You’re safe now.”

Jungkook hesitated, his fingers gripping the edge of his blanket.

Safe.

The word felt foreign to him. He wasn’t sure he had ever been safe. Not in the village where he had been cast aside, not in the unmarked lands where he had barely survived, and certainly not in the presence of alphas who still viewed him with suspicion. But here, in this small infirmary, with Seokjin’s warm hands tending to his wounds and a hot meal always waiting for him…

For the first time in his life, he almost believed it.

--

Another week passed.

Jungkook had settled into a routine, though it was one he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to.

Seokjin continued to tend to him daily, changing his bandages, bringing him food, scolding him whenever he tried to push himself too hard. Namjoon and Yoongi still came by, their presence a silent but steady reminder that they were always watching him, always making sure he wasn’t up to anything suspicious.

They never said much, at least not to him. Their conversations were always short, curt, clipped exchanges with Seokjin before they left for their duties elsewhere. Jungkook had tried not to let their continued wariness bother him.

But it did.

He didn’t want to be a burden. Didn’t want them to see him as some kind of threat when he had never had any ill intentions toward them. Still, he wasn’t naive. He understood. Trust was something that had to be earned, and he had done nothing to prove himself to them yet. So he bore the weight of their suspicion quietly, taking comfort in the few things that had changed.

Like his leg.

The pain had lessened significantly, and the bone had almost fully healed thanks to Seokjin’s shifter remedies. His muscles still felt weak from lack of use, and Seokjin had warned him that it would take time to regain full mobility, but it was better.

Better than he had expected.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he had hope. Then, one morning, Seokjin arrived with someone new. Jungkook had only really seen three people since waking up in this pack—the same three who had found him, the same three who had been tending to him for the past two weeks. So when Seokjin stepped into the infirmary with a fourth person trailing behind him, Jungkook was immediately alert.

The man was… different from the others.

Where Namjoon was imposing, Yoongi was unreadable, and Seokjin was gentle but firm, this new man was light. That was the only way Jungkook could describe it. There was something infectious about his energy, something bright and warm that filled the small room the moment he entered.

And then—

Jungkook barely had time to react before the man rushed toward him, sliding onto the bed as if he belonged there, grabbing Jungkook’s hands between his own like they were old friends. Jungkook stiffened in surprise.

"Finally!" the man beamed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I finally get to meet you!"

Jungkook just blinked, utterly taken aback by the sudden closeness, the sheer enthusiasm.

"I’m Hoseok," the man continued, squeezing Jungkook’s hands like they were sharing some kind of secret.

"And you—" He grinned, tilting his head playfully.

"You’re the human everyone’s been talking about, huh?"

Jungkook barely had time to process before Seokjin sighed loudly beside them.

"Seok-ah," Seokjin chided, though his voice lacked any real scolding. "You’re overwhelming him."

Hoseok only laughed, releasing Jungkook’s hands but not moving away. He was still sitting ridiculously close, his presence so different from the cold distance Jungkook had been met with from the others.

"Sorry, sorry," Hoseok said, though he didn’t sound sorry at all. "I just couldn’t wait any longer! Joonie’s been keeping me away, keeping everyone away—it’s so unfair."

Jungkook blinked again, his mind still trying to catch up.

"Namjoon-ssi… didn’t let you come?" he asked hesitantly.

Hoseok scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Nope! Didn’t let anyone come. Said it was too dangerous or something, like you were some wild animal that might bite."

Jungkook winced, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. Hoseok must have noticed because he quickly softened, reaching out to pat Jungkook’s arm in reassurance.

"Hey, don’t look like that. He’s just cautious. You being here is big, you know? It’s not every day we find a human in shifter territory."

Jungkook nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

"Yeah, I get it."

Hoseok smiled at him again, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like he was about to share a secret.

"Don’t tell Namjoonie, okay?" he whispered. "If he finds out I came to see you, he’ll kill me."

Jungkook’s eyes widened. "What?"

Seokjin groaned. "Seok-ah, really?"

Hoseok just grinned, completely unbothered.

"It’s true!" he said, looking back at Jungkook. "He told me explicitly not to come, but I just had to see you for myself. And now that I have—" He reached out and ruffled Jungkook’s hair like they were already friends. "—I can see why Jinnie likes you so much."

Jungkook’s face burned. He wasn’t used to this. Wasn’t used to someone being so… so friendly. For the past two weeks, he had only ever been met with Seokjin’s gentle care, Namjoon’s distrust, and Yoongi’s silent observations.

But Hoseok—

Hoseok was an entirely different energy. It was overwhelming, but not in a bad way. It was warm. Jungkook had never felt warmth like this before.

"Well," Hoseok continued, stretching his arms over his head, "now that I’ve broken the rules, I might as well make the most of it. You don’t mind, do you?"

Jungkook opened his mouth, then closed it again. Did he mind? No.

No,

he didn’t mind.

If anything, he felt almost relieved. Hoseok and Seokjin were the first people who had treated him like—like a person and not an outsider to be wary of. So Jungkook shook his head.

"I… I don’t mind," he murmured.

Hoseok beamed. "Great! Then I’ll keep you company for a bit."

Seokjin sighed but didn’t argue, only shaking his head with fond exasperation. Jungkook glanced between them, something settling in his chest for the first time in a long time. Maybe… maybe he wasn’t completely alone after all.

Hoseok was like a burst of sunshine, a living, breathing embodiment of warmth and light. The moment he entered the room, everything felt different—lighter, warmer, more vibrant. His presence was infectious, and it filled the small space with a kind of energy that Jungkook hadn't realized he had been missing.

The way Hoseok carried himself was effortless, graceful. He wasn’t as tall as Namjoon or Seokjin, but there was a fluidity to his movements, like he glided rather than walked. His frame was lithe and lean, with long limbs that seemed to go on forever. Every movement was full of purpose, and yet there was a playfulness to him, as if he lived every moment with the lightest touch. His light brown hair fell softly around his face, but what truly caught Jungkook’s attention was the striking streak of dark blond hair that fell across his forehead, like a little highlight of gold that shimmered in the low light of the room.

But it wasn’t just his appearance that made Hoseok stand out.

It was his eyes.

Golden.

Almost honey-colored, they shimmered with warmth and life. They were the kind of eyes that felt like they could see straight through you, and yet, at the same time, they made you feel seen, understood. There was something about them that made Jungkook feel as though everything would be okay, as though he was worth something just by existing. And when he smiled, when that soft curve of his lips formed into a grin, it was like the entire room lit up even brighter.

"Okay, okay, so," Hoseok started, his voice full of excitement as he plopped back down beside Jungkook on the bed, a grin on his face.

"What’s your favorite food, huh? What do you like to eat?"

Jungkook blinked, taken aback by the question. It wasn’t that it was odd, per se, but it was personal—a question that implied that Hoseok wanted to know him, wanted to know more about him, not just the situation he had been found in. But then, Hoseok’s golden eyes sparkled again, and the intensity of his curiosity felt more welcoming than invasive.

"I like... meat ?," Jungkook answered softly, unsure of how to respond to such a simple yet intimate question. "Beef stew... maybe?"

Hoseok beamed. "Beef stew! Oh, you’ve got to try the stew Jin-hyung makes. It’s seriously the best thing ever." He raised his eyebrows in mock seriousness, leaning closer as if sharing a secret.

"If you don’t like it, then I’ll eat your share for you. Deal?"

Jungkook’s lips twitched, a small smile forming on his face. He nodded, grateful for Hoseok’s attempt to make him feel more at ease. But Hoseok wasn’t done. No, he wasn’t the type to let things sit for too long without asking another question. His mind was always churning with thoughts, always eager to know, always fascinated by the little things.

"What about your favorite color? What do you like to wear?" Hoseok asked, leaning back against the bedpost, still looking at Jungkook with that same brightness in his eyes.

Jungkook’s cheeks flushed slightly, taken by surprise again.

"I... I don’t really know," he said hesitantly, "I guess, like, dark colors? Maybe blue."

Hoseok nodded approvingly.

"I like blue too," he said with a smile. "It’s a nice color. Very calming, right?"

Jungkook’s heart warmed a little at the ease with which Hoseok spoke, as though every answer mattered, as though he genuinely cared about what Jungkook had to say.

Hoseok’s questions didn’t stop there. He asked him everything—from whether he thought bunnies were cute (which, of course, Jungkook did) to whether he liked the sound of rain, or if he had ever seen the stars from the village's tallest hill. Simple questions, harmless in nature, but each one designed to make Jungkook feel like he mattered, like his life wasn’t some empty space waiting to be filled.

Jungkook wasn’t used to this kind of attention. He wasn’t used to someone caring about him in such a carefree, open way. It was as if Hoseok was trying to pull him out of his shell, to remind him that he was allowed to have things he liked, things he wanted.

The questions weren’t important in themselves, not really. They weren’t about getting to the heart of anything deep or life-changing. They were just... questions. They were things that made Jungkook feel less like a stranger, less like a burden. Hoseok didn’t expect him to answer every question with a perfect answer. Hoseok was just... trying to make him feel at home.

And it worked.

As the minutes passed, Jungkook found himself relaxing, his stiff shoulders easing up as Hoseok’s warmth and energy enveloped him. He asked about everything, but always in a way that made it feel like a conversation between friends rather than a series of interrogations. His laughter was light, infectious, and soon enough, Jungkook found himself chuckling along with him.

And when Hoseok finally stopped talking long enough for Jungkook to speak, he couldn’t help the words that spilled out, almost as if they had been waiting to escape for the first time in forever.

"You really... you really don’t think I’m just a burden ?"

It was a quiet question, filled with doubt and vulnerability, but Hoseok heard it clearly.

"No," Hoseok said instantly, his smile never fading.

"I don’t think you’re a burden, Jungkook-ah"

Jungkook stared at him, unsure how to process the words. The warmth in Hoseok’s golden gaze felt so foreign to him, and yet so welcome. Hoseok leaned forward then, his face softening into a more serious expression.

"You’re not alone anymore, alright?" he said gently. "No matter what’s happened in the past, you’ve got a place here."

Jungkook’s throat tightened, the weight of those words sinking deep into him. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he wasn’t afraid to trust.

Hoseok’s presence was like a balm for his soul, and maybe,

just maybe,

Jungkook could start believing that he didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on his own.

Notes:

Hoseok finally made an appearance !! And poor Jungkook is starting to heal !
The big (well only Namjoon lol) scary alphas are still cold but you know, they're alphas, they're protective, what can i say.

Hope you enjoyed !

Chapter 11: Comfort in Curiosity

Summary:

Jungkook is just a cutie who has so many questions about shifters.

The afternoon passed in a blur of soft laughter and warm conversation. Seokjin and Hoseok remained by Jungkook’s side, their company strangely comforting despite how foreign all of this still felt to him. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he wasn’t alone.

Seokjin had brought an assortment of treats, things Jungkook had never seen before—sweet and flaky pastries filled with spiced berries, small honey-glazed biscuits that melted on his tongue, and something chewy with a rich, nutty taste that left him humming in approval. Every time Jungkook hesitated, Seokjin would huff, telling him to eat more, while Hoseok beamed and eagerly waited for his reactions. It was almost overwhelming—being cared for like this, being spoken to so gently—but he didn’t dislike it.

Between bites, the conversation shifted, and Jungkook found himself asking about their village. He had so many questions, and for once, no one seemed annoyed by his curiosity. If anything, Hoseok and Seokjin looked delighted to answer.

“The village is big,” Seokjin explained, gesturing with his hands as if trying to show the sheer size. “We’ve built everything ourselves, and every member contributes in some way.”

“There’s an infirmary, which you’ve already seen,” Hoseok added with a wink.

“Then there’s a school, a common area where we gather, a dining hall where everyone eats together, shops where pack members trade goods… There’s even a training ground for our hunters.”

Jungkook listened intently, trying to picture it all in his head. A self-sustaining village, built by shifters, for shifters. It was a life so vastly different from the one he had known, where every day had been a battle just to survive. Here, there was structure, purpose, and—most notably—community.

“Everyone has a role, then?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Of course,” Seokjin said. “We don’t just sit around all day.”

Jungkook hesitated before asking, “What do you do?” He glanced at Seokjin, then at Hoseok. “I mean, I know you cook well, so… do you work in the kitchens?”

Seokjin grinned. “I help sometimes, but no. My main job is the infirmary. I take care of injuries, illnesses, and… well, people like you.”

That made sense. Jungkook had seen firsthand how carefully Seokjin had tended to him. But before he could comment, Hoseok spoke up, practically bouncing in excitement.

“And I work at the school!” he announced, his golden eyes sparkling. “I help teach the pups.”

Jungkook blinked, surprised. He hadn’t even considered that shifters would have a structured education system, let alone that Hoseok, so full of energy and warmth, would be a teacher. But now that he thought about it, it fit him perfectly.

“You teach?” Jungkook asked, curiosity seeping into his tone.

Hoseok nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! Reading, writing, history, and even combat training when they’re old enough. But mostly, I keep them from getting into too much trouble.” He laughed. “You’d be surprised how wild little shifter pups can get.”

Jungkook smiled faintly at the thought. He had never seen a shifter child before. Did they stay in their human forms? Or did they run around as tiny wolves, play-fighting and tumbling over each other?

“You’d like them,” Hoseok added, watching Jungkook’s expression closely. “They’re sweet. Mischievous, but sweet.”

Jungkook didn’t know what to say to that. He had never been around children, not in a way that mattered. His village had been too harsh, too cruel for innocence to thrive. But he imagined that in a place like this, children were allowed to be just that—children. Seokjin reached out then, placing another piece of pastry in Jungkook’s hand.

“Eat,” he urged gently. “You’re still too thin.”

Jungkook ducked his head, feeling strangely flustered by the attention, but he took a bite anyway. The warmth of their presence settled over him like a blanket, unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

For the first time in a long time, Jungkook allowed himself to relax. He hesitates for a moment before speaking, fingers curling into the thick blanket covering his lap.

“I… I don’t really know much about wolves,” he admitted, glancing between Hoseok and Seokjin. “Only stories my grandmother told me when I was little. But even those are splotchy… incomplete.”

He saw the way their expressions softened—Hoseok tilting his head curiously, Seokjin offering a small, knowing smile.

“I know about alphas, betas, and omegas,” Jungkook continued, “but that’s really it. I don’t know what it means to be any of them, not really.”

Hoseok’s golden eyes brightened with excitement.

“Oh! Well, you’re in luck, sweetheart. We love explaining things.”

Jungkook flushed at the term of endearment but nodded, eager to listen. Seokjin leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other.

“Alright, let’s start with alphas, since they’re the easiest to explain.” He gestured toward the door, as if referencing Namjoon and Yoongi, who were probably somewhere outside.

“Alphas are the strongest, physically speaking. They’re designed to protect, to lead. That’s why most of them take on positions of authority—like Namjoonie, our pack alpha.”

Jungkook nodded, taking it in. He had already sensed that about Namjoon and Yoongi. Their presence alone was enough to command attention.

“But,” Hoseok added, grinning, “not all alphas are big and scary. Some are softer, more nurturing. Leadership isn’t about being the loudest in the room, you know? Some alphas are protective in quiet ways—like Yoongi. He doesn’t say much, but he’d rip someone apart if they hurt the pack.”

Jungkook shivered slightly at the mental image.

Seokjin smirked. “He’s right, though. Alphas have strong instincts when it comes to protecting those they care about, but how that manifests depends on the individual. Some alphas are naturally dominant, others aren’t. Some are aggressive, some are calm. There’s no single mold that every alpha fits into.”

That surprised Jungkook. His grandma had taught him that alphas were one thing—powerful, dominant, leaders who took what they wanted. But Seokjin and Hoseok made it sound so much more complex.

“What about betas?” Jungkook asked.

“Betas are the most balanced,” Seokjin answered, gesturing to himself.

“We don’t have the aggressive instincts of alphas, nor the heightened sensitivity of omegas. We’re… steady. Reliable. We help keep the peace in a pack.”

Hoseok laughed. “Some of us are more chaotic than others, though.”

Seokjin shot him a look but didn’t argue.

“Betas are often caretakers, mediators,” Hoseok continued. “Since we don’t have the same instincts pulling us in extreme directions, we can be the bridge between alphas and omegas, or even between members of the pack who don’t always see eye to eye.”

Jungkook frowned. “Does that mean betas are weaker?”

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “Hardly. We may not be as physically strong as alphas, but we have our own strengths. Some betas are incredible strategists, others are skilled fighters. And because we don’t have those intense instincts to manage, we can think clearly in high-pressure situations. It makes us just as valuable to the pack.”

Jungkook nodded slowly. It was starting to make more sense now.

“And omegas?” he asked hesitantly, curious but not wanting to be rude.

Hoseok’s face softened. “Omegas are… special,” he said, his voice warm. “They’re more in tune with the pack’s emotions. Their instincts make them deeply nurturing, protective in their own way. But that doesn’t mean they’re weak.”

Jungkook blinked in surprise. “They’re not?”

Seokjin chuckled. “Not at all. Some of the strongest wolves I know are omegas. Their instincts may make them more sensitive to emotions, but that also makes them incredibly resilient. They’re the glue that holds a pack together.”

Hoseok nodded. “And like we said about alphas, not all omegas are the same. Some are soft and shy, while others are bold and outspoken. Some omegas love taking care of others, and some don’t. It really just depends on the individual.”

Jungkook thought about that for a moment. He had always assumed omegas were fragile. That’s what humans had always said about them, that they were weak, made only for breeding, for belonging to alphas. But the way Hoseok and Seokjin spoke about them was so different. It wasn’t about power or control, it was about connection, strength in a different form.

“So… really, outside of physical strength, the rest is all about personality?” Jungkook asked.

“Exactly,” Hoseok beamed. “Some alphas aren’t dominant at all, and some omegas can be very dominant. Dynamics don’t define a person’s worth or their role in the pack. It’s just a part of who they are.”

Jungkook felt a strange sense of relief at that. It was a concept so foreign to what he had been taught, yet it made so much more sense.

Seokjin smiled at him. “You’re taking this all in so well. You really are an interesting human, Jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook flushed at the compliment, but instead of shying away, he met Seokjin’s gaze. “I just… I want to understand.”

And for the first time since arriving in the village, he thought—maybe, just maybe—he was starting to. Jungkook listened intently as Seokjin and Hoseok continued explaining the way their pack functioned, his fascination growing with every word. It was so different from what he had known, so different from the rigid and cruel structure of his old village, where power meant everything and kindness was a weakness.

Here, the shifters seemed to live in harmony, each person contributing to the well-being of the pack. And the way they structured their housing—Jungkook had never heard of anything like it before.

“We have separate quarters for unmated alphas, betas, and omegas,” Hoseok said, smiling as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

Jungkook frowned slightly. “You don’t all live together?”

“Not exactly,” Seokjin answered. “Families live together, of course. But for those who aren’t mated yet, we have different housing arrangements. It helps keep balance in the village.”

Jungkook tilted his head, curiosity flaring.

“Balance?”

Hoseok nodded. “Mated shifters tend to settle into their own homes. But for the unmated, it’s better this way. Alphas can be… intense, especially when they’re young. Keeping them together allows them to train, focus their energy, and learn discipline without constantly being distracted by their instincts.”

“What about betas?” he asked.

“They live in their own quarters too,” Seokjin said. “Betas are the most stable of the dynamics, so their housing is more relaxed. Some choose to stay with family or even close friends, but we do have designated areas for those who prefer it.”

Jungkook nodded slowly, taking it in.

“And omegas?” Jungkook’s voice was quieter when he asked, unsure if it was a rude question.

“Omegas have their own housing as well,” he said gently. “It’s safer that way. Unmated omegas are more sensitive to scents, and their heats can be… difficult to manage around alphas.”

“They’re not separated because they’re weak,” Hoseok added, as if reading Jungkook’s thoughts. “It’s just how things work best for everyone. Omegas have a strong bond with each other. Their housing is more communal—like a big family. They support one another, take care of each other.”

Jungkook’s chest ached at that. A home filled with warmth and comfort, where no one was cast aside, where everyone was cared for. He had never experienced anything like that before.

“Do omegas and betas ever live with alphas?” he asked hesitantly.

Seokjin smiled. “Once they’re mated, yes. Some unmated omegas and betas also choose to live with close friends, even if they’re alphas. It’s all about trust.”

Jungkook nodded, digesting the information. He found himself wanting to know more. Wanting to see it for himself. But was there a place for him in this village? He was not an alpha, nor a beta, nor an omega. He was human. And humans did not belong here. Yet, as he sat with Hoseok and Seokjin, being fed warm food and given patient answers to his endless questions, Jungkook found himself desperately wishing that he did.

Jungkook hesitated, gnawing on his bottom lip as he debated whether or not to ask. He could already feel the heat creeping up his neck at the mere thought of his question, but curiosity burned too strongly for him to ignore. Seokjin and Hoseok had been so open with him, answering everything he wanted to know, and yet, there was one thing he still didn’t fully understand.

So, gathering his courage, he cleared his throat and spoke softly,

“Um… when you talk about being… mated…” He trailed off, cheeks flushing. “What does that actually mean?”

Seokjin and Hoseok both blinked at him before identical grins spread across their faces.

“Oh,” Hoseok said, practically bouncing in excitement. “You don’t know?”

Jungkook shook his head, feeling embarrassment settle into his stomach.

“I mean… I have an idea, but I don’t really know the details.”

Seokjin chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “That’s adorable.”

Jungkook’s face burned. “It’s not adorable,” he grumbled.

Hoseok laughed but leaned in, clearly eager to explain.

“Okay, so! Being mated is kind of like being married in human terms, but it’s a lot deeper than that.”

Seokjin nodded. “Mating is a bond that ties wolves together permanently. It’s not just an emotional connection, it’s a physical and spiritual one, too.”

Jungkook frowned slightly, tilting his head. “What do you mean by a physical connection?”

Seokjin hummed, thinking of the best way to explain. “Well, once wolves mate, their scents start to change. Their bodies recognize each other as belonging together, and they become more attuned to one another’s emotions.”

Hoseok jumped in, “It also means they physically crave each other more. Being apart for too long can be painful, even.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly at that. “It sounds… intense.”

Seokjin laughed. “It is. But it’s also one of the most beautiful things in the world.”

Jungkook hesitated before asking, “Does… every wolf have a mate?”

Hoseok shook his head. “Not necessarily. Some wolves never find their mate, and some choose to be with someone even if they aren’t fated. Love is love, no matter how it happens.”

Jungkook absorbed that, his fingers twisting into the blanket on his lap. The way they spoke about it… it sounded like something sacred. Something he could never quite imagine for himself.

“So…” he began hesitantly, “when wolves mate… do they—um…” He struggled to find the words, but Seokjin seemed to understand and smirked.

“Yes, sweetie,” Seokjin teased, “mating involves sex.”

Jungkook choked on air, ears turning a deep shade of red as Hoseok burst out laughing.

“But it’s not just about that,” Seokjin continued, clearly enjoying Jungkook’s flustered state. “The act of mating involves a bite—a mark—that seals the bond permanently.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “A bite?”

Hoseok nodded. “Yep! A mating mark is usually given during… you know… an intimate moment.” He wiggled his eyebrows, making Jungkook groan in embarrassment. “It seals the connection between mates. After that, the bond is unbreakable.”

“Unbreakable?” Jungkook echoed.

Seokjin grew serious for a moment. “Yes. Once a bond is made, it’s for life. It ties the souls together.”

Jungkook felt something strange settle in his chest at that. The idea of belonging to someone so completely… it was overwhelming.

“And what about…” He swallowed, voice suddenly small. “What happens if one mate… dies?”

Hoseok and Seokjin exchanged a glance, their playful expressions dimming.

Seokjin spoke softly, “It’s painful. Some wolves survive it, but others…” He sighed. “Some wolves can’t handle losing their mate and follow them soon after.”

Jungkook’s heart clenched at that. It was both beautiful and tragic. Hoseok, ever the optimist, smiled at him.

“But! That’s why mates cherish each other so much. It’s a special thing.”

Jungkook nodded slowly, still trying to process everything. He had never thought about love—true love—in that way before. Humans married for convenience, for security, for duty. But wolves… wolves loved with their entire being.

And for some reason, that thought made him feel both warm and terribly lonely all at once.

Jungkook hesitated for a moment before gathering the courage to ask another question, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Are you… mated?" His voice was quiet, uncertain. "Do you have mates?"

Seokjin and Hoseok exchanged a glance before Seokjin chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. Jungkook flushed.

"I-I’m just curious," he murmured. "You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal."

Hoseok beamed, reaching out to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. "No, no, it’s fine! You’re just too cute, asking all these things."

Seokjin shook his head at Hoseok’s antics before offering Jungkook a reassuring smile. "To answer your question, yes. We’re both mated. In fact, we’re part of a mating bond of six."

Jungkook blinked. "Six?"

Hoseok nodded enthusiastically. "Yep! There’s me and Seokjin, of course. Then there’s Yoongi and Namjoon—who you’ve already met. And our youngest, Jimin and Taehyung, who are both omegas."

Jungkook’s lips parted in surprise. "You’re all… mated to each other?"

Seokjin hummed. "Mhm. We’re bonded, all six of us. It’s not uncommon for shifters to form large mating bonds. Some bonds are between two, some three or four, and in our case, six."

Jungkook tried to wrap his head around the concept. He had never heard of such a thing before, not in human villages. Marriage was always between two people—anything else was frowned upon. But this… it didn’t seem strange when Seokjin and Hoseok talked about it. In fact, there was something warm in the way they spoke of their mates, something steady and unshakable.

"How does that work?" Jungkook asked, genuinely curious. "I mean… how do you know you’re mates?"

Hoseok’s eyes softened. "It’s not just about attraction or love, though those things are important, too. Mating is a bond deeper than that. It’s instinct. It’s feeling drawn to someone in a way that nothing else compares to."

Seokjin nodded. "It’s not something we force, either. When we met, we just… knew. And over time, the bond grew stronger. Now, I can’t imagine my life without any of them."

Jungkook’s heart clenched at the way Seokjin said it, with such certainty, such devotion. He couldn’t imagine ever having something like that—being a part of something so whole.

"Jimin and Taehyung," Jungkook echoed, rolling the unfamiliar names over his tongue. "What are they like?"

At that, both Seokjin and Hoseok lit up.

"They’re our omegas," Seokjin said fondly. "Jiminie is sweet, but he can be mischievous when he wants to be. He’s got everyone wrapped around his little finger, especially Yoongi."

"And Taehyungie," Hoseok continued, grinning. "He’s something else. Curious about everything, always getting himself into trouble. But he’s got a heart of gold."

Jungkook found himself smiling, picturing these two people he had yet to meet. He didn’t know why, but a part of him was looking forward to it.

"You’ll like them," Seokjin added. "They're away visiting a friend from another pack who just gave birth to a cute little pup, but once Namjoon stops being so overprotective, we’ll introduce you."

Jungkook’s smile faltered slightly. Right. Namjoon. He still wasn’t sure where he stood with the alpha. Yoongi, too. They were wary of him, and he understood why. But a small, foolish part of him wished they wouldn’t be.

"You think so?" he asked hesitantly.

Hoseok reached out, gently squeezing his hand. "I know so."

Jungkook let out a small breath. Maybe… just maybe, things wouldn’t be so bad.

Jungkook leaned forward slightly, his eyes filled with curiosity as he looked at Hoseok and Seokjin. "When I first met Namjoon-ssi and Yoongi-ssi," he started, hesitating for a second before continuing, "they were wolves. They looked so… powerful. How does that work? Do you just decide to shift whenever you want?"

Hoseok grinned, leaning back on his hands as he nodded. "Pretty much! Every shifter can transform at will, though it takes practice to get good at it."

Seokjin hummed in agreement. "It’s a natural part of us, but controlling the shift takes training, especially for younger wolves. You’ll probably see some pups running around in wolf form when you get out of here. They tend to shift without meaning to, especially when they get excited or scared."

Jungkook blinked, trying to imagine it. Small wolf pups playing in the village. It was an oddly adorable image.

"So... does it hurt?"

Seokjin shook his head. "Not at all. It’s seamless for us. Our bodies are built for it."

Jungkook nodded slowly, then hesitated before asking,

"And… how does it feel?"

Hoseok beamed at the question, clearly excited to explain. "It’s freeing," he said, eyes gleaming. "Like… imagine your senses being ten times sharper. The wind feels different, the ground beneath your paws is comforting, familiar. You can hear things from miles away, smell emotions on people. Running is exhilarating, like you’re truly alive. It’s the most natural feeling in the world."

Jungkook swallowed, fascinated. "That sounds… amazing."

"It is," Seokjin agreed with a fond smile. "But it can also be overwhelming if you’re not used to it."

Jungkook frowned slightly, tilting his head.

"What do you mean?"

Seokjin glanced at Hoseok before answering.

"Well, when we shift, our instincts become much stronger. It’s still us, but it’s also… our wolves. We’re more aware, more in tune with emotions and surroundings, but sometimes the wolf takes control before the human mind catches up."

Hoseok nodded. "Yeah, like… we still know who we are, we still have our thoughts, but the wolf has its own way of reacting to things. For example, if an omega in distress was nearby, an alpha’s wolf might react protectively before their human side even realizes it. It’s like instinct comes first, and logic follows after."

Jungkook thought about that for a moment, chewing on his lip.

"So… if an alpha or beta shifts, do they ever lose control completely?"

"Not really," Seokjin assured him. "It’s rare for a wolf to fully take over unless something extreme happens. But it does take practice to balance both sides."

Hoseok smirked. "That’s why you’ll see a lot of younger wolves struggling to shift back when they get too emotional. It’s actually kind of funny. You’ll see a pup throwing a tantrum in wolf form because their mom won’t let them eat another piece of meat."

Jungkook let out a small, surprised laugh, and Hoseok beamed at him, clearly pleased to have made him smile.

"So when you shift… can you still understand people? Like, if someone talks to you?"

Seokjin nodded. "Yes. We can still understand speech. Our wolves don’t block out our human minds, they just enhance them."

Jungkook tilted his head, fascinated by every word.

"And when you're in wolf form, do you… still think the same way? Like, do you still have your human thoughts?"

Hoseok grinned. "We do, but they mix with instinct. Like, for example, if I saw an injured packmate while in wolf form, my first thought wouldn't be in words like, 'Oh no, I need to help them.' It would just be a driving need to do so. It's more feeling-based than word-based, if that makes sense."

Jungkook nodded slowly, his mind spinning with everything he was learning. "That’s incredible," he murmured.

Seokjin smiled warmly at him. "You’re really interested in this, huh?"

Jungkook flushed slightly, ducking his head. "It’s just… I’ve only ever heard stories but it was all so vague. This is the first time I’m actually learning about it."

Hoseok's eyes softened. "Well, you can ask us anything. We don’t mind."

Jungkook hesitated for a second before speaking again. "Have you ever… preferred being in your wolf form over your human one?"

Seokjin and Hoseok exchanged a look before Seokjin shrugged. "Sometimes. Especially when I need to clear my head. There’s something peaceful about running through the forest without any human worries."

Hoseok grinned. "Or when I just want to have fun. Being a wolf is fun, Jungkook. You’ll see one day. Maybe I’ll shift in front of you so you can see for yourself."

Jungkook’s eyes widened.

"You’d do that?"

"Of course!" Hoseok said brightly. "I bet you’d love it."

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, warmth blooming in his chest. He had never imagined that he would ever get to learn about shifters like this, to see them up close, to hear about their lives. And for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel like an outsider. Jungkook hesitated for only a moment before he asked,

"Can I ask more about your wolves?"

Hoseok and Seokjin exchanged amused glances before they beamed at him.

"Of course!" Hoseok chirped. "You’re so curious, it’s adorable."

Seokjin nodded in agreement. "We don’t mind at all. No one’s ever asked us to explain these things before—not unless we were teaching pups."

Jungkook flushed slightly at being called adorable but ignored it, too eager to ask his questions.

"When I first saw Namjoon-ssi and Yoongi-ssi in their wolf forms, I recognized them by their eyes. Namjoon-ssi’s were still red, and Yoongi’s were still blue." He looked at them questioningly. "Do all of you keep your eye color when you shift?"

"Yes," Seokjin confirmed, smiling softly. "Our eyes don’t change between forms. It’s one of the easiest ways to recognize a shifter, even in their wolf form."

Jungkook’s lips parted slightly in wonder. That explained why Namjoon and Yoongi had looked so familiar to him even as wolves.

Encouraged, he continued, "And what about your fur? What color are your wolves?"

Seokjin’s eyes gleamed with amusement. "My fur is red," he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "A deep, rich shade, almost burgundy in certain light."

Jungkook blinked, trying to imagine it. A beautiful, red-furred wolf with Seokjin’s deep purple eyes. It suited him somehow.

"That’s so pretty," he murmured without thinking.

Seokjin smirked. "I know."

Hoseok laughed before dramatically flipping his hair.

"Well, if you think that’s impressive, wait till you hear about mine."

Jungkook tilted his head. "What color is yours?"

"A mix of colors!" Hoseok grinned. "Like a calico cat. Patches of brown, white, and black, all over my body."

Jungkook's eyes widened. "Really? That sounds so unique!"

Hoseok nodded eagerly. "It is! I stand out a lot, but I like it. Some wolves have plain-colored fur, but others—like me—get a mix."

Jungkook bit his lip, fascinated. "Is there a reason some of you have different fur colors? Like… does it mean anything?"

"Not really," Seokjin replied. "It’s just genetics, like hair color in humans. Some wolves are black, some are brown, some are red or gray. 

"You really like learning about us, don’t you?" Hoseok teased, nudging him playfully.

Jungkook blushed but nodded. "I do. I’ve never known much about shifters. It’s different hearing it from you."

Seokjin softened at that, reaching over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. "Well, lucky for you, we love talking about ourselves. So ask away, little sweetie."

Jungkook smiled, warmth filling his chest. He wasn’t sure why, but something about this moment—learning about their world, seeing their excitement in sharing it with him—made him feel a little less alone.

The afternoon passed in easy conversation, laughter, and shared curiosity. Jungkook had never felt so welcomed before, so accepted. He asked questions about the pack, about shifter customs, about the world they lived in, and Hoseok and Seokjin answered them all with enthusiasm. In return, they asked him about his life—what little he was willing to share. They asked about human villages, about the foods he liked, about whether he had any hobbies.

It was… nice. For the first time since arriving in the village, Jungkook felt like he wasn’t just a burden, like he wasn’t just an outsider. Then, as if suddenly remembering why they had come, Seokjin and Hoseok perked up.

"Oh! We actually brought you something," Hoseok announced with a grin.

Jungkook blinked in surprise as Seokjin reached for something behind him. A second later, he pulled out a pair of wooden crutches. Jungkook stared at them, confused. Seokjin smiled.

"Your fracture is almost healed, but your leg is still weak. It’ll take some time before you can walk properly again. I’d like you to use these for a few days."

Jungkook hesitated, glancing at the crutches warily.

"I… I don’t know if I should…"

Hoseok pouted. "Come on, it’s not like we’re telling you to run a race. Just try them out. See how they feel."

Jungkook glanced at Seokjin, who nodded in encouragement.

"Alright," he murmured.

Hoseok wasted no time. He stepped forward and carefully helped Jungkook swing his legs over the bed. The moment Jungkook put weight on his injured leg, he wobbled, a sharp bolt of discomfort shooting up his calf.

"Easy," Hoseok murmured, his hands gentle as they steadied him.

Jungkook exhaled shakily, gripping the crutches as Hoseok guided his hands into the proper position. He hesitated before slowly putting weight on them, testing his balance.

Seokjin watched him carefully. "Try taking a few steps."

Jungkook took a breath and did as told. The first step was awkward—his arms trembled slightly, his leg felt foreign beneath him—but he managed. Then another step. And another. Hoseok beamed.

"See? You’re already getting the hang of it!"

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile a little. "It’s not as bad as I thought."

"You’re a fast learner," Seokjin agreed. "Just take it easy. You don’t need to push yourself too hard."

Jungkook nodded, relief washing over him. Being able to move on his own—even if it was with the help of crutches—felt like freedom.

"Thank you," he said softly, looking at both of them.

Seokjin smiled. "No need to thank us. We just want to see you get better."

Hoseok grinned, nudging him playfully. "And maybe once you do, we can take you on a little tour of the village."

Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat at the thought. He had spent so long in the infirmary, confined to these four walls. The idea of seeing the village, of stepping outside, filled him with something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

"I’d like that," he admitted.

Hoseok and Seokjin shared a knowing look before Seokjin said,

"Then you better get used to those crutches quickly, little human."

Jungkook smiled.

He would.

Jungkook’s fascination with the shifters and their way of life only grew the more he learned. He had never imagined he would one day sit in a room with two of them, having his endless stream of questions answered so patiently. His knowledge had been limited to old, half-forgotten stories from his grandmother—stories of mighty wolves, bound to nature, living in ways humans could never understand. But now, he was here, listening to real shifters tell him about their world.

His curiosity burned bright as he tilted his head slightly, his wide eyes fixated on Seokjin and Hoseok.

“Is your pack the only one?” he asked, voice soft but eager. The idea of a single village of wolves living together already felt so foreign, so different from the isolated and rigid human settlements he had known, but something told him there was more to it.

Hoseok grinned, shaking his head. “No, sweetheart,” he chuckled, his golden eyes twinkling. “There are many packs, spread across shifter territory. Our land is vast, and each pack has its own village, just like ours.”

Seokjin nodded, leaning back slightly in his chair. “We coexist, but we don’t all live together in one place. Packs form their own communities, their own ways of living. But we do interact,” he explained. “We trade with other packs, visit their villages, share resources.”

Jungkook’s mouth parted slightly in amazement. “You trade?” he repeated.

Hoseok beamed, clearly enjoying Jungkook’s enthusiasm. “Of course! Each pack has its strengths. Some are great hunters, some are skilled craftsmen, others have the best healers. We exchange goods all the time.”

Jungkook was stunned. He had never left his village before. Humans never communicated with other human villages—at least, not where he was from. They lived in their own isolated pockets, wary of strangers, hoarding their resources and keeping to themselves. The idea of different communities working together so freely was... astonishing.

Seokjin must have noticed the surprise on his face because he hummed thoughtfully.

“Is that not how it is with humans?”

Jungkook shook his head. “No... Humans don’t really trade between villages. We don’t travel outside our own. It’s... not allowed.” His voice was tinged with something unreadable—regret, perhaps. Or longing.

Hoseok’s face fell slightly, his golden eyes softening. “That sounds lonely.”

Jungkook hesitated, then gave a small nod. “It is.”

The betas exchanged a look, something understanding passing between them before Seokjin smiled warmly. “Well, that just means we have all the more to show you tomorrow, doesn’t it?”

At that, Jungkook perked up, excitement flickering in his tired eyes.

“You really mean it?”

Hoseok reached over and squeezed his hand gently. “Of course! We’ll take you around the village—show you everything. You’ll love it.”

Jungkook’s heart swelled at the thought. The idea of stepping outside, of walking among the shifters, of seeing their world with his own eyes—it was almost too much to believe.

As another question bubbled up in his mind, he glanced between them.

“Does your village have a name?”

Seokjin shook his head. “Not exactly,” he said. “Shifters don’t name their villages the way humans do. We identify with our pack first and foremost. That’s what matters most.”

Hoseok nodded. “If someone asks where we’re from, we say we’re from Namjoon’s pack, not from a village with a name.”

Jungkook found that oddly comforting. It wasn’t about the land they lived on—it was about the people they belonged to. A place wasn’t home because of a name. It was home because of who you shared it with.

His chest felt warm, a strange but welcome feeling settling there. He still didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to it. Jungkook’s curiosity was insatiable. He had spent his whole life in ignorance of shifter culture, and now that he had a chance to learn, he wanted to know everything. So he turned to Hoseok and Seokjin, hesitating only briefly before asking,

"Does your pack have a name? Or do you just refer to it as Namjoon’s pack?"

The betas exchanged a glance, then Seokjin chuckled softly.

"No, we do have a name, little one."

Hoseok beamed, eyes twinkling like the very thing he was about to speak of.

"We are the Moon Pack."

Jungkook’s lips parted slightly, repeating the name in his mind. Moon Pack. There was something serene about it, something vast and endless, just like the night sky.

"That sounds… dreamy," he admitted, voice almost hushed. "And safe."

Seokjin and Hoseok smiled at that, warmth filling their expressions.

"We think so too," Seokjin said. "Our history is deeply tied to the moon. We believe in the Moon Goddess, the deity who has watched over us since the beginning. She has always protected our village, our people, and we honor her in return. That’s why our pack carries her name."

Jungkook found himself even more drawn in. "The Moon Goddess…" he murmured, the words rolling off his tongue like something sacred.

Hoseok tilted his head, watching Jungkook with gentle curiosity. "Do humans not believe in her?"

Jungkook hesitated before shaking his head. "Not in my village. The only things I’ve heard about shifters were from my grandmother, and those were just old stories. I don’t know much about gods or spirits."

Seokjin’s expression softened. "Well, you do now."

Jungkook nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I think I like it. The idea of a goddess watching over you. And… I’ve always liked the moon."

"We’re glad you like it," Hoseok said warmly. "Maybe one day, you’ll get to see how we honor her."

Jungkook didn’t know what that meant—if they had rituals or traditions—but something about the way Hoseok spoke made him feel like he was being welcomed into something special. 

Jungkook tried his best to stifle a yawn, but it betrayed him, slipping past his lips as his eyes fluttered heavily. He shook his head, trying to fight the exhaustion that crept over him like a thick, warm blanket. He didn’t want to sleep—not yet. He wanted to keep talking, to keep listening, to keep feeling like he belonged in the presence of Seokjin and Hoseok.

Seokjin, of course, noticed immediately. "Alright, that’s enough for today," he declared, his tone light but firm. "You need to rest, Jungkook."

Jungkook whined, rubbing at his tired eyes. "But I don’t want to sleep yet," he admitted, his voice slightly slurred from drowsiness.

"I like talking to you both… I like your presence."

Hoseok gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest as he leaned toward Jungkook with twinkling golden eyes. "Oh, you really are the cutest little thing," he cooed. "If Minnie and Taehyungie were here, they’d never let you go. You remind me of them, you know? Our two youngest mates."

Jungkook blinked sleepily. "I do?"

Seokjin nodded, a fond smile on his lips. "Mhm. Minnie and Taehyungie always do this, too. They fight sleep so they can keep talking to us. They say they don’t want to miss a single second with their mates."

Hoseok laughed. "They’re adorable little troublemakers. And look at you, you’re just the same."

Jungkook felt warmth bloom in his chest at their words. He had never been compared to anyone in such a fond, affectionate way before. It made his heart ache, but in a good way. Still, Seokjin and Hoseok were determined.

"Come on now," Seokjin said, fluffing the blankets around Jungkook. "You’re not fully healed yet. You need rest, and we won’t let you overexert yourself just because you like chatting with us."

Jungkook huffed, his lips pushing into a small pout.

"But—"

"No buts," Hoseok interrupted playfully, pressing a gentle hand to Jungkook’s forehead to make him lie back down. "Sleep, little human. You’ll feel better after some rest."

Jungkook sighed but didn’t fight them any further. His body was too tired, too heavy to resist. His eyelids drooped, his breathing already slowing.

"Fine," he mumbled. "But… will you come back tomorrow?"

Seokjin chuckled. "Of course. In fact, if Namjoon allows it, we can take you on a walk around the village."

Jungkook’s lips twitched into a small, sleepy smile.

"Really?"

"Really," Hoseok confirmed, smoothing his hair in an affectionate gesture. "But only if you rest now."

Jungkook barely managed a nod before sleep finally took him.

Notes:

So many questions in this chapter ah ah. Also, i never knew writing dialogues was this hard omg. (Or knowing how to edit them so bear with me)

Chapter 12: Among the Pack

Summary:

Jin and Hoseok take Jungkook on a little adventure

Jungkook woke up the next morning feeling something he hadn’t experienced in a long time, a bubbling sense of excitement. It was the kind of excitement he remembered from his childhood, when the world seemed full of endless possibilities. He stretched under the covers, a little groggy but still filled with anticipation.

Today, if everything went as he hoped, he would get to explore the village, see more of the shifters’ world, and finally put faces to the stories Hoseok and Seokjin had shared with him. The betas had told him that they could show him around, but only if the pack alpha, Namjoon, allowed it. Jungkook’s heart thudded at the thought of Namjoon’s approval. He really hoped the alpha would say yes, though part of him was nervous. Namjoon had been so stoic, so reserved, and though he hadn’t been outright cruel, there was still that air of caution around him that made Jungkook uneasy.

As the hour passed, Jungkook lay in his bed, his mind racing with thoughts of what might come. He hoped, prayed, that he would get a chance to go beyond the walls of the infirmary and see the village with his own eyes. It felt like a dream, too good to be true.

And then, like a burst of energy, the door opened, and Hoseok and Seokjin stepped inside. Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat. Hoseok had that mischievous grin on his face, and Seokjin’s soft smile was almost too comforting. They came straight to his bed, as if they couldn’t wait to see him.

Hoseok was practically bouncing with energy, and it was impossible not to be swept up in his enthusiasm. But then, he opened his mouth, and the air shifted.

“So, Namjoonie and Yoonie found out that I came to see you,” Hoseok said, his tone turning serious, though his grin never left his face. “Namjoon wasn’t pleased. At all.”

Jungkook’s stomach tightened. He had hoped Namjoon wouldn’t be upset. It was silly to think he wouldn’t be, after all, Jungkook was an outsider, a human. The idea of him mingling too freely with the pack must have made Namjoon uneasy.

Jungkook felt a wave of guilt crash over him, and he nervously shifted in the bed, avoiding Hoseok’s eyes. “Maybe you should stop visiting me,” he mumbled, his voice laced with uncertainty. “I don’t want to cause you any trouble. I didn’t mean to make things difficult.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and the worry in his chest made it hard to breathe. He didn’t want to be a burden. Not to Hoseok. Not to any of them. But Hoseok laughed—genuine, carefree, and it made Jungkook glance up in surprise. The older beta placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly with an air of fondness.

“Don’t be silly,” Hoseok said, his voice warm and reassuring. “I don’t always listen to Namjoon. He’s the pack alpha, sure, but he’s not the boss of me.” Hoseok winked, his grin widening. “I’m older than him after all. I can do whatever I want.”

Jungkook chuckled nervously, but Hoseok’s easy-going nature made it hard to stay upset for long. Still, his nerves didn’t completely dissipate. He felt the need to explain himself, to ensure Hoseok didn’t get in trouble on his behalf.

“But still… I don’t want to cause trouble for you. If Namjoon-ssi says no—”

Seokjin cut him off with a soft chuckle, his eyes glimmering with affection as he leaned against the edge of Jungkook’s bed.

“Jungkookie,” Seokjin said, his voice light but firm, “it was worth it. Every moment. To see our cute human patient. You brighten up the place, even on your worst days.”

Jungkook flushed, feeling heat rise to his cheeks at the compliment, but it only made him feel all the more conflicted. They cared about him, too much maybe, but he didn’t want to put them at odds with Namjoon, who had given them shelter and protection.

Hoseok sat down beside him, crossing his legs on the floor, his tone turning more serious. “Look, Joon’s just cautious. He’s an alpha, that’s what they do. But we’re not trying to cause any trouble. We just… like having you around, Jungkook-ah. You make things a lot more interesting.”

Jungkook’s heart fluttered at Hoseok’s words. He had only known them for a short time, but the warmth and genuine care from Hoseok and Seokjin made him feel like he truly belonged. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he wasn’t invisible.

Seokjin leaned closer, adding his own voice to the reassurance. “We’ll talk to Namjoon-ah. He’ll understand. But for now, just enjoy the moment. Rest up, and if he lets us, we’ll show you around. I’m sure Hoseokie has a lot of things planned.”

Hoseok’s eyes sparkled at the mention of a plan, and Jungkook couldn’t help but smile at the thought of exploring the village with them. It felt like a dream. The weight of his previous isolation, of being alone in his human world, was starting to lift.

“Okay,” Jungkook agreed, his voice quieter now, but a smile tugging at his lips. “If Namjoon-ssi agrees… I’d really love that.”

Hoseok ruffled his hair playfully, his energy infectious as always. “He will,” Hoseok said confidently, “Trust me.”

Jungkook let out a soft laugh, and for a moment, the tension that had gripped his heart the night before seemed to fade into the background. Maybe things could be different here. Maybe he could start to heal—not just his body, but his heart as well.

--

After breakfast, Seokjin carefully checked on Jungkook’s healing wounds, his touch gentle and reassuring as he made sure everything was progressing well. Jungkook appreciated the beta’s concern, but there was a growing sense of nervousness gnawing at him. The idea of seeing more of the village, of getting out of the infirmary, was so tempting, but it all hinged on Namjoon’s approval.

Seokjin caught the hesitation in Jungkook’s eyes as he gently applied a salve to the wound on his side.

“Don’t worry, Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin said with a reassuring smile. “I’ll go talk to him. I’ll get him to agree.”

Jungkook blinked, confused. “How are you going to do that?” He asked, a little unsure whether he believed Seokjin could sway the pack alpha so easily.

Hoseok, who had been sitting nearby, leaned forward with a playful smirk. “Oh, we have our ways,” he said, his tone full of mischief. “We’re his mates, after all. That gives us some leverage.” He winked, and Jungkook couldn’t help but smile at the way Hoseok seemed so confident. “If we give him enough of our puppy eyes, he's is bound to crack. Trust me.”

Seokjin nodded in agreement, his expression soft but determined. “We’ve been through this before. Namjoon might not like the idea of you being human, but he doesn’t hate you. He’s just cautious, that’s all. Once he gets to know you, he’ll warm up to you. He’s not as bad as he seems.”

Jungkook wasn’t entirely convinced. “I’m not so sure about that,” he murmured, looking down at his hands. “He and Yoongi-ssi... they’ve never really seemed happy to have me around.”

Seokjin sighed, a small, fond smile tugging at his lips as he leaned over to pat Jungkook’s shoulder gently. “It’s not that they don’t like you, Jungkook. It’s just—” Seokjin paused, searching for the right words. “You’re human. And humans and shifters don’t exactly mix easily. But you’ve already made an impression on us, and we’re sure Namjoon will come around once he sees how special you are.”

Hoseok nodded eagerly, his eyes bright with optimism. “Exactly! You’ve got that little spark of curiosity about you, and that makes you stand out. Namjoon-ah can’t ignore that forever.”

Jungkook let out a small, uncertain laugh. “I don’t know..."

Seokjin’s voice broke his thoughts. “I’ll go talk to Namjoon now. Hoseok can stay with you. Don’t worry too much about it.”

Jungkook looked up at him, feeling a little more reassured despite the doubts still lingering in his chest. “Okay... Thank you, Seokjin-ssi, Hoseok-ssi.”

"Oh Sweetie please call us 'hyung' hum ?"

Jungkook blinks, his breath catching slightly as Seokjin’s words register.

“W-What?” he stutters, eyes widening.

Seokjin grins, tilting his head playfully. “I said, you should start calling me and Hoseok ‘hyung’.”

Jungkook bites his lip. Then, voice barely above a whisper, he mutters, “S-Seokjin… hyung, Hoseok... h-hyung.”

The two betas seem much too pleased with themselves and then, with a final, affectionate smile, Seokjin stands and makes his way to the door. “I’ll be back before lunch,” he said, before stepping out of the infirmary, leaving Hoseok and Jungkook alone.

The room fell into a comfortable silence after the door closed. Hoseok settled back into his chair, still grinning, though it seemed gentler now, as if he could sense the lingering uncertainty in Jungkook.

“Don’t worry. Namjoonie will come around. We’ll make sure of it.”

Jungkook gave him a small, grateful smile but couldn’t shake the feeling that the situation wasn’t as simple as Hoseok made it sound. Still, he appreciated their confidence. For now, he would have to wait and trust that Seokjin’s way of handling things would work. He didn’t want to be a burden to anyone, least of all Namjoon.

As Hoseok sat with him, the minutes passed quietly. Jungkook’s mind wandered, replaying the conversations from the past few days. He was still so new to this world of shifters, still so unfamiliar with the pack and their dynamics, but it felt like things were shifting, like his place in it all might not be as impossible as he’d once thought.

--

Seokjin returned just before lunchtime, his eyes shining with excitement as he stepped into the infirmary. Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat, wondering if he had good news.

“Guess what?” Seokjin grinned widely, making Jungkook feel a spark of hope. “Namjoon agreed! You can go around with us today.”

Jungkook blinked in surprise, the news catching him off guard. “Really? He agreed?”

Seokjin nodded, chuckling softly. “Of course! Joonie can never refuse me anything for too long. I’m just too beautiful for that.” He said the last part with a playful wink, and Jungkook couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, his heart lighter at Seokjin’s cheerful demeanor.

The two betas exchanged a knowing glance, before Hoseok added with a teasing grin, “You know, that smile of yours, Jungkook? It’s adorable. Like a cute little bunny’s.”

Jungkook’s cheeks flushed immediately, a shy laugh escaping his lips as he ducked his head, suddenly self-conscious. “I-I’m not cute,” he mumbled, but the teasing warmth in Hoseok’s voice made his heart race in an entirely different way.

Seokjin smiled fondly at him, his expression softening. “Oh, but you are,” he said before turning his attention to the task at hand. “Now, the plan is to head to the dining hall first. It’s the heart of the village, and that’s where we’ll eat. It’s usually busy in there, but don’t worry if you feel overwhelmed. A lot of shifters have never seen a human before. They might stare, but they’re just curious. You’ll be fine.”

Jungkook nodded, his nervousness returning slightly at the thought of being in a room full of unfamiliar faces. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he trusted Seokjin and Hoseok.

“I’ll be okay,” Jungkook said quietly, but he couldn’t shake the anxiety gnawing at him. He had never felt this out of place before.

Seokjin seemed to notice, his expression softening. He placed a gentle hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You’ll be okay. And we’ll be with you the whole time. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

Hoseok nodded emphatically. “Yeah, we’ve got you. You’re part of the pack now, and we protect our own.”

The warmth in their words, the confidence in their voices, made Jungkook feel a little bit braver. He smiled, though the uncertainty still lingered in his chest.

“Okay... I’ll trust you hyungs,” he said, his voice quiet but determined.

Seokjin gave him an encouraging grin before stepping back. “Great! Let’s get going then. The others will be expecting us. Just follow our lead, alright?”

With that, Seokjin and Hoseok guided Jungkook out of the infirmary, his crutches tapping against the floor as they made their way down the hallway. Jungkook could feel his heart racing in his chest, but he kept his head held high, trying to focus on the fact that Seokjin and Hoseok were right beside him.

The dining hall was just ahead, and Jungkook could hear the sounds of chatter and laughter spilling out from the open doorway. His stomach fluttered in nervous anticipation, and for a moment, he felt like he was about to step into a completely different world.

--

Seokjin and Hoseok had been right when they said people would stare. As soon as they left the infirmary and began walking down the corridor toward the dining hall, Jungkook couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on him. All around him, shifters stopped what they were doing to look at him, their eyes wide with curiosity, some even whispering to one another.

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat for a second. For a brief moment, he felt like he had stepped back into his old village, with the hostile glares of the villagers, the hunters who had always regarded him with disdain. 

But this... this was different.

The gazes of the shifters were guarded, sure, but they weren't filled with malice. Instead, there was a sense of wonder, curiosity, and, dare he think it, a little bit of excitement. They weren’t angry, they weren’t threatening. They were... interested. Some of the shifters smiled softly at him, a few even gave him a nod of acknowledgment, but there was no visible sign of hatred. It was all new for Jungkook—he wasn’t used to being the subject of such attention, let alone in a place where people didn’t seem to wish him harm.

He overheard bits and pieces of their conversations as he walked, though the voices were more hushed now, speaking among themselves in a soft murmur. They were discussing him.

“That’s him... the human...” someone whispered. “The one Namjoon and Yoongi brought back.” Another voice added, sounding genuinely curious, “I never thought we’d meet a human... He’s really here, huh?”

Jungkook’s cheeks flushed with warmth, and he quickly lowered his head, trying to avoid catching too many eyes. His heart thudded in his chest, and his hands gripped the crutches a little tighter as if they could somehow anchor him to the present, keep him from feeling overwhelmed by all the attention.

Seokjin, ever aware of his unease, shot him a reassuring glance, his lips twitching into a small, encouraging smile. “It’s alright, Jungkook. Don’t let them get to you.” His tone was light, but there was a protective edge to it that made Jungkook feel a little more at ease.

Hoseok, walking beside him with that usual boundless energy, chuckled softly under his breath. “They’re just excited to meet you. It’s not every day that we have a human in the pack. You’re a bit of a novelty.”

Jungkook smiled nervously, though the comment only made him feel even more self-conscious. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was really as much of a spectacle as they made him seem. “I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Seokjin, hearing him, softened even more. “You’re not making anyone uncomfortable. Don’t worry about them. They’re just curious. It’s not every day that we get to see a human.”

Still, the whispers followed them. People couldn’t help but speak about him as he passed. Some were impressed that Namjoon and Yoongi had brought a human back to the village, others were skeptical, but none of them had any clear malice in their words. It was just... curiosity.

“I wonder how he’s doing here... I’ve never seen a human in person before.”

“He looks so... small,” another voice mused, as if Jungkook wasn’t even there.

Hoseok heard the murmurings, and though his tone remained playful, he couldn't help but grumble under his breath, “Respect, people! We’re right here!” He shot a few side glances at the other shifters, a hint of teasing annoyance in his voice. “You can at least wait until we’ve passed to gossip, you know!”

Seokjin, his voice dripping with sarcasm, chimed in, “Oh, yeah, absolutely. It’s so respectful to talk about people like they’re not even in the here.” But his words were light, almost amused, despite the mild protest.

Hoseok winked at Jungkook. “Don’t let it get to you. They mean well. They’re just fascinated by you. We’ve never had a human among us, after all.”

Jungkook managed a weak smile, trying to push down the discomfort that still lingered in his chest. As they neared the dining hall, he caught sight of a few shifters casting another curious glance in his direction, and though the stares still made him uneasy, he was slowly starting to understand that it wasn’t animosity in their eyes. It was simply wonder. It was strange to be at the center of so many eyes, but at least this was a type of attention he could tolerate.

Seokjin, ever perceptive, gave Jungkook a final reassuring smile before they reached the entrance of the dining hall. “Just relax, alright? You’ll get used to it.”

Hoseok nodded enthusiastically, his energy as vibrant as ever. “You’re going to love it. Trust me.”

The doors to the dining hall opened, and the noise of laughter, chatter, and the clinking of plates and glasses filled the air. Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat, his pulse quickening with a mixture of nerves and excitement. As Seokjin and Hoseok led him inside, he tried to steady himself, focusing on the warm, welcoming presence of the two betas by his side.

No one could have prepared him for the feeling of being in a room full of strangers who were so... interested in him, but for the first time since he’d arrived in the village, he felt the slightest glimmer of hope. It wasn’t hate or fear in their eyes. It was curiosity, yes, but it was also the smallest hint of kindness, of welcome.

Perhaps, just perhaps, this place wouldn’t be as terrifying as he had first imagined.

The dining hall was nothing like anything Jungkook had ever imagined. It was vast, stretching out with long tables, each surrounded by chairs, and the air was thick with the mingling scents of fresh, delicious food. There were various food stalls lining the edges of the room, each serving different specialties, with groups of shifters chatting and queuing eagerly, plates in hand or waiting to be served. The sight of so much food made Jungkook’s stomach growl in anticipation, and he couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of people.

He followed Hoseok and Seokjin as they wove their way through the bustling crowd, each step feeling like it brought him deeper into a world so different from his own. The lively atmosphere of the hall, with its bright chatter and hum of activity, was intoxicating. People were eating, laughing, and sharing stories, and despite the attention he’d drawn earlier, Jungkook felt himself relaxing ever so slightly in the warm, welcoming energy of it all.

Hoseok, with his usual playful smile, leaned toward Jungkook as they walked. “We’ll head over to Eunji Halmeoni’s stand,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “She’s the village’s elder—everyone respects her. She’s also the best cook in the whole village.”

Seokjin chuckled beside them, adding, “Although, I’ll argue with her that I’m the better cook. You know, for the sake of healthy competition.” His voice was playful, teasing, but there was no mistaking the respect he held for the elder. “Halmeoni doesn’t like to admit it, but I’m sure deep down she knows I’m the better chef.” His eyes sparkled with humor.

Jungkook blinked in surprise, not sure what to expect from the village’s cook, but eager to see what all the hype was about. “She sounds like someone special...” he mused, curiosity piquing.

Hoseok’s face lit up at Jungkook’s comment, and he nodded eagerly. “Oh, she is. She’s the heart of this place. Everyone loves her, even though she can be a little... tough around the edges. But you’ll see.”

"But I don’t think we have to worry, she has a soft spot for cute boys so she’ll like you" seokjin added.

As they neared the food stalls, Seokjin and Hoseok guided Jungkook to a particular stand tucked in a quieter corner. The stand had a warm, inviting atmosphere, with the faint scent of herbs, spices, and slow-cooked meats drifting through the air. Behind the stall, a kind-looking older woman with silver hair tied into a neat bun was busy preparing dishes, her hands moving with practiced ease. Her sharp eyes watched the room, taking in the bustle of the dining hall, though her expression softened whenever someone came close to her stand.

“That’s Halmeoni,” Seokjin whispered, nudging Jungkook as they approached. “You’ll see what we mean when we talk about her soft spot.”

Jungkook watched the older woman with wide eyes. She had a regal presence, even though she wore simple clothes. Her hands were quick, skilled, but there was a warmth about her that made Jungkook feel more at ease, despite his lingering nervousness.

Hoseok, never one to waste time, turned to Seokjin with a grin. “Shall we try our luck and skip the line?”

Seokjin smirked in reply, his eyes twinkling. “I’m always ready to test my charm.”

With that, they made their way to the counter, and Seokjin cleared his throat before speaking in a louder voice. “Halmeoni, the food you’ve prepared looks even better than usual today. You’ve outdone yourself.”

Jungkook could hear the flattery in Seokjin’s voice, smooth as silk, but it was paired with a certain fondness, an undercurrent of genuine respect. Hoseok was nodding enthusiastically beside him, his eyes bright.

“I told Seokjin that you were the best cook in the village,” Hoseok added with a wide smile, flashing his most charming grin at the elder. “But I think he still likes to believe he’s better.”

At the mention of a “rival,” Halmeoni’s lips twitched in a subtle smile, though she didn’t fully look up from what she was doing. Her sharp eyes, however, immediately scanned over Hoseok and Seokjin with a knowing gleam.

“Oh? Is that so Jinnie?” she said, her voice warm yet slightly teasing. “If you want to prove that you can try cooking for yourself. We’ll see who really has the skill.”

Seokjin chuckled, unbothered by her teasing tone. “Halmeoni, don’t be like this. We both know who the real expert is. I’m just joking, of course I could never dream of surpassing you”

Halmeoni raised an eyebrow, a wry smile playing on her lips. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” she said, though there was a distinct twinkle of amusement in her eyes. “But I suppose it’s worth it to humor you two.”

That’s when she finally looked up, her gaze landing on Jungkook. She studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took him in. Then, as if seeing something she liked, her expression softened.

“And who do we have here?” she asked, her voice a little gentler now. “This must be the human everyone has been talking about.”

Jungkook felt a sudden wave of nerves wash over him, but he stood his ground, offering a shy smile. “I-I’m Jungkook,” he said quietly. “It’s nice to meet you, Halmeoni.”

Halmeoni’s eyes softened even more, and she regarded him with an expression that was almost maternal. “Hmm, I see. The human who’s stolen the attention of everyone in this pack, huh?” Her lips twitched again, and a small chuckle left her lips. “You’re a brave one, I  can feel it. Not many humans would have the courage to come here.”

Jungkook’s heart fluttered at the way she looked at him. It wasn’t judgmental or cold, like the way the hunters used to look at him. It felt like... acceptance.

Hoseok leaned closer, his voice full of playful sweetness. “You’re right, Halmeoni. He’s brave, and cute too.” He winked at Jungkook, who blushed slightly under the compliment.

Seokjin chimed in next, grinning. “You know, Halmeoni, he’s really good at making people endeared.”

Halmeoni raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by their teasing. “Is that so? Well, he certainly has the face for it.” Her voice softened again as she looked back at Jungkook, her gaze now warm and approving. “Alright, come on up. You’ve earned yourself a meal, little one.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, feeling a weight lift off his chest. “Thank you, Halmeoni. I really appreciate it.”

The elder chuckled softly, waving him forward with a dismissive flick of her hand. “Enough with the thank yous. I can never refuse a cute boy, especially one who has such a sweet smile.”

Hoseok and Seokjin exchanged a glance, both of them smiling knowingly. “See?” Seokjin said, his voice dripping with teasing affection. “I told you she couldn’t resist.”

Jungkook felt his cheeks heat up at the attention, but he was too grateful to be embarrassed for long. As he moved toward the counter, Halmeoni smiled at him again, and Jungkook couldn’t help but feel that, for the first time, he was truly welcome in this new world.

Jungkook couldn’t help but watch in awe as Halmeoni expertly moved behind her stall, preparing plates of food with such skill and care. She worked with a confidence and ease that only came from years of experience, her hands quick and precise as she plated the food with just the right amounts of each ingredient. Despite the bustling atmosphere of the dining hall, there was a quiet rhythm to her work, a kind of calm that Jungkook found mesmerizing.

Hoseok and Seokjin stood at the counter, chatting easily with Halmeoni as she worked. They had clearly known her for years, and their easygoing banter made Jungkook smile. He could hear snippets of their conversation as they talked about their pack and the village.

"How are Jiminie and Taehyungie doing?" Halmeoni asked, her voice warm but carrying a hint of concern. She looked up from her cooking to meet Seokjin's eyes, her expression softening. "I haven't seen them around for a few days. Have they been busy with something?"

Seokjin and Hoseok both groaned at the mention of the two youngest members of their pack. "You only ever ask about Jimin and Taehyung!" Hoseok exclaimed, his tone playful but with a slight hint of exaggeration. "What about us? Aren’t we important too?"

Halmeoni’s eyes twinkled with amusement, and she gave them a knowing smile. "Well, Jiminie and Taehyungie always listen to me well," she teased, her voice light and full of affection. "Unlike you two, who only ever cause me trouble."

Seokjin gasped in mock disbelief, clutching his chest dramatically. "How could you say such a thing, Halmeoni? You wound me! I’ve always listened to you!"

Hoseok joined in, putting on a show of over-the-top astonishment. "Really? Because I don’t remember you listening to anyone when you’re busy with your cooking," he joked, earning a soft laugh from Halmeoni.

Jungkook observed their playful exchange, noticing the easy affection between them all. It was clear that Halmeoni had a deep fondness for Hoseok and Seokjin, even if she didn’t show it in the most obvious ways. Her teasing, though sharp at times, was laced with an undeniable warmth that made Jungkook feel more at ease. She wasn’t just the respected elder of the village; she was someone who genuinely cared for those around her.

The older woman chuckled softly as she finished preparing a plate of food for them. "Alright, alright," she said, handing the plate to Seokjin. "I suppose I’ll have to ask about you two next time, won’t I?"

Seokjin gave her a playful smirk. "You’re right, Halmeoni. You should definitely keep an eye on us. After all, we’re just as adorable as the pups, aren't we?"

Hoseok rolled his eyes, but there was a smile on his face. "You two are impossible," he muttered, though it was clear he didn’t mind. He turned to Jungkook and gave him a quick wink, adding, "Halmeoni is a hard lady to impress."

Jungkook smiled, feeling an unexpected warmth settle in his chest. It was clear that the bond between the betas and Halmeoni was special. Their playful bickering, their easy conversation—it all spoke of years of shared history, of trust and affection. And despite his initial nerves, Jungkook felt like he was beginning to understand it.

As Halmeoni handed the final plate to Hoseok, she looked at Jungkook one last time, a small, knowing smile curling at the corners of her lips. "You take care of yourself now, alright?" she said, her voice soft. "You’re in good hands with these two."

Jungkook nodded, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you, Halmeoni. I’ll make sure to do that."

With that, they said their goodbyes, and Halmeoni waved them off with a soft chuckle as they turned to leave the stall. Jungkook followed Hoseok and Seokjin through the bustling dining hall, his heart feeling lighter than it had in days. They found an empty table near the back of the room, a quiet corner where they could sit and enjoy their food away from the prying eyes of the other villagers.

As they settled down, Seokjin passed Jungkook a portion of the meal, the food looking and smelling absolutely delicious. "Enjoy, Jungkook-ah," Seokjin said, his tone warm as he watched the younger man carefully.

Jungkook took the plate from him, and as he looked at the food, he could hardly believe it was real. The meal was so full of color and fragrance, the textures and aromas making his stomach growl in anticipation. He had never seen anything like it before.

He took a bite, his eyes widening at the explosion of flavor. The food was rich, savory, and comforting, with a hint of sweetness that lingered on his tongue. It was unlike anything he had ever eaten, and he could see why everyone in the village was so eager to get a taste.

Seokjin and Hoseok watched him closely, clearly eager for his reaction. "Well?" Hoseok asked, a teasing glint in his eye. "Isn’t it amazing?"

Jungkook nodded enthusiastically, his mouth full of food. "Itch’s sho good!" he managed to say, earning a laugh from both of them.

Seokjin gave him a satisfied smile. "Halmeoni’s food is legendary. You’ve got to be careful, though. Once you start eating here, it’s hard to stop."

Jungkook laughed softly, the sound feeling foreign but comforting to his ears. He felt so at ease with them. The tension that had gripped him when he first arrived in the village was slowly melting away, replaced by a sense of belonging he hadn’t realized he’d been craving.

As they ate, the conversation continued, flowing easily between the three of them. Hoseok and Seokjin shared stories about the pack, about their past, and about the times they had spent together. Jungkook listened intently, fascinated by the richness of their lives, and for the first time since he had arrived, he felt like he was part of something bigger. The world of the shifters was complex, but it was also a place that, in its own way, felt warm and safe.

When they finished their meal, the conversation naturally shifted to their plans for the rest of the day. Hoseok and Seokjin promised to show Jungkook around the village once they were finished eating, and Jungkook couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement at the thought. He was still nervous about how the others would treat him, but with Hoseok and Seokjin by his side, he felt like he could take on anything.

As Jungkook and the betas were finishing their meal, chatting easily between mouthfuls of food, a pair of shifters approached their table. The two were striking, tall and broad-shouldered, with an undeniable aura of strength that seemed to radiate from them. Jungkook couldn't help but glance up as they made their way toward him, his heart beating a little faster at the sudden attention.

The way they moved—confident, fluid—was almost predatory, and the intensity of their gazes made him feel both small and observed. He hadn’t yet gotten used to how differently the shifters looked at him. The villagers here weren’t mean or hostile, but they were definitely intrigued by his presence.

The two shifters stopped just before their table, looking from Hoseok and Seokjin to Jungkook. They seemed to pause for a beat, their expressions unreadable at first. Finally, one of them—with dark hair and piercing eyes—gave a small nod of acknowledgement, a polite but calculating glance flicking toward Jungkook.

"May we sit with you?" He asked, his voice smooth and calm. His tone didn’t sound like a request, but rather an assumption that they were welcome. There was a confidence in his demeanor that seemed to make the air around him tighten slightly. His eyes lingered on Jungkook for a moment longer than necessary, an almost imperceptible curiosity behind them.

Hoseok and Seokjin exchanged a glance, clearly checking to see how Jungkook felt about this new development. They had both noticed the way the two newcomers were eyeing Jungkook, and there was an unspoken understanding between the betas that they would protect Jungkook from any discomfort. Seokjin's smile was polite but firm, and Hoseok gave a light chuckle before speaking.

"Sure, sit down," Hoseok said, nodding toward the empty seats across from them. "Jungkook's still getting used to all the attention, so go easy on him." He winked at Jungkook to reassure him, though there was a hint of protectiveness in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed by the two shifters.

Seokjin nodded along. "They're our friends," he added with a smile that was kind but didn’t give away much. "Sungjae, Kyungmin, meet our human guest." His eyes softened as he glanced at Jungkook, whose cheeks were flushed from the weight of their gazes.

The two shifters sat down across from Jungkook, their postures relaxed but their eyes sharp as they took in every detail of him. Sungjae’s gaze was steady and intense, while Kyungmin, with lighter hair and a slightly softer face, offered a smile that was much more approachable. The difference in their personalities was immediately clear—Sungjae exuded quiet authority, while Kyungmin had an easy-going charm about him.

Jungkook, despite his shyness, managed a small, nervous smile. His hands fidgeted in his lap, trying to calm the way his heart was beating harder than it had just moments ago. He hadn’t expected to meet anyone new today, and certainly not two shifters who were so... imposing. Their muscular builds, the way their shoulders broadened beneath their clothes—it all seemed so intimidating to the human.

"It’s nice to meet you," Jungkook managed, his voice soft and a little tremulous as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He could feel their eyes on him, and the intensity of their focus made him blush. "I’m... I’m Jungkook."

The two shifters exchanged a glance, a momentary flicker of surprise crossing their faces before they turned their attention back to him. Sungjae gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Jungkook," he repeated, tasting the name on his tongue. There was something predatory in the way he said it, though Jungkook wasn’t sure if it was intentional. "You’re the one that Namjoon and Yoongi brought back, right?"

Jungkook nodded shyly, unable to suppress the heat rising to his face. "Yes," he murmured, the soft flush spreading across his cheeks as Sungjae’s gaze lingered a bit longer than was comfortable. He looked away, focusing on his food, but the weight of their attention followed him like a shadow.

Kyungmin, sensing the tension, leaned back a little, offering Jungkook a reassuring grin. "Don’t worry about Sungjae," he said, his voice light and warm, almost teasing. "He’s just fascinated by you." His eyes twinkled with amusement, though there was a gentleness in his tone that made Jungkook feel slightly more at ease.

Sungjae, however, didn’t seem to be as interested in easing the younger human’s discomfort. He watched Jungkook closely, and the intensity of his stare didn’t waver. "Fascinating," Sungjae echoed, his voice carrying a subtle edge that Jungkook couldn’t quite place. "You really are quite different from the others we’ve seen. »

Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat at Sungjae’s words. The comment hung in the air for a moment, and he felt the heat flood his face again. It wasn’t the first time someone had made him feel self-conscious, but this felt different—he wasn’t sure if he was flattered, uncomfortable, or a mix of both. He glanced at Seokjin and Hoseok, but neither of them seemed to be reacting strongly to Sungjae’s words. It left him feeling a little exposed, and his stomach fluttered with nervous energy.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asked softly, trying to steady his voice despite the growing unease in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to hear more, but curiosity got the better of him. Sungjae’s gaze, intense and unwavering, made his heart race a little faster.

Sungjae leaned back slightly in his seat, his eyes never leaving Jungkook's. His gaze was almost predatory, but there was something else there, something that Jungkook couldn’t quite place. After a long pause, Sungjae finally answered, his voice lower, almost like he was considering his words carefully.

"The humans I’ve met before," he began, his tone thoughtful, "were rough around the edges. Big, burly men with thick beards and hard eyes. They looked like they could survive a storm without breaking a sweat." He paused, the corners of his lips curling into something between a smile and a smirk. "They were... harsh. They weren't soft, like you."

Jungkook felt the weight of the words settle on his shoulders. His gaze dropped to his plate for a moment, feeling a little flustered. Sungjae’s eyes locked onto Jungkook's, and for the first time, Jungkook noticed the sincerity behind them, even if it still carried a hint of something intense.

"You’re pretty," Sungjae continued.

The words hit Jungkook like a wave. Pretty? His heart stuttered in his chest, unsure of what exactly to make of this comment. He wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or to hide under the table.

Hoseok and Seokjin, sitting beside him, noticed his discomfort. Seokjin, ever the observant one, placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, offering him a reassuring squeeze. "Don’t mind Sungjae too much," he said with a chuckle. "He’s just got a way with words, even if it’s a bit much sometimes."

Hoseok, on the other hand, wasn’t as forgiving. He gave Sungjae a playful but pointed look. "Alright, Sungjae, no need to make our human blush even more. We’re trying to let him settle in, not make him feel all embarrassed."

Sungjae, realizing his comment might have crossed a line, offered Jungkook an almost apologetic smile. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable," he said, his voice a little gentler now. "I didn’t mean to."

Jungkook nodded slightly, though his face was still flushed. "It’s okay," he said quietly, though his mind was swirling with the implications of Sungjae’s words.

Seokjin, seeing that Jungkook was still a bit lost in his thoughts, quickly redirected the conversation. "Don’t worry, Jungkook," he said with a smile, "Sungjae just has a way of saying things. We’ll get you used to it. Shifters tend to be more open with their thoughts."

Kyungmin, sensing the growing tension, grinned and lightly tapped Sungjae on the shoulder. "You’ve got a way of making things awkward, don’t you?" he teased, his tone light to keep things from getting too heavy.

Sungjae simply shrugged, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "I can’t help it if the human’s just... pretty."

Jungkook wasn’t sure how to respond. He felt a little overwhelmed by everything—the stares, the attention, and now Sungjae’s cryptic words. It was all so new to him, and his usual shy nature made it hard to navigate these interactions.

But as he glanced at Seokjin and Hoseok, both of whom were now smiling at him, a sense of comfort settled over him. He may not fully understand what Sungjae meant, but he knew he wasn’t alone in this strange new world of shifters. They were watching over him, keeping the conversations light when they needed to, and making sure he felt at ease.

"Thanks," Jungkook murmured, his voice soft but sincere.

Seokjin and Hoseok, were both watching the interaction with keen interest. Hoseok’s smile was a little more pointed, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as Sungjae and Kyungmin continued to engage with the human. "Alright, alright," Hoseok interjected, his voice light but laced with an edge of irritation. "Can you two stop making Jungkook blush like that?" His words were teasing, but there was an underlying seriousness that both Sungjae and Kyungmin could sense.

Seokjin chimed in, a slight frown on his face as he glanced at the two shifters. "Yeah, it’s cute and all, but maybe tone it down?" His usual playful demeanor was now replaced with a subtle protectiveness that hadn’t been there moments before. "We don’t need him all flustered."

Kyungmin, ever the more relaxed of the two, raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Oh, we’re making him blush?" His teasing tone softened the moment, and he quickly glanced at Jungkook with an apologetic look. "Sorry about that. We didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable."

Sungjae, however, didn’t seem as inclined to apologize. He simply regarded Jungkook with that same steady gaze, though there was an unreadable expression behind it.

Hoseok, clearly slightly annoyed, shot Sungjae a pointed look before he turned back to Jungkook with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Don't worry, Jungkook," he said, his tone shifting back to its usual easygoing warmth. "They’re just teasing. We’ll keep them in check."

Jungkook nodded gratefully, feeling both relief and a little embarrassment. "It’s okay," he said softly, though he couldn’t stop his cheeks from burning under the weight of their attention. He cast a glance at Seokjin, who gave him a reassuring wink.

As the conversation continued, Jungkook settled into the rhythm of the meal. The two shifters, Sungjae and Kyungmin, didn’t push too hard, though they continued to regard him with open curiosity. There was a kind of unspoken tension hanging in the air, and Jungkook couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. But with Hoseok and Seokjin there, keeping the situation light and friendly, he felt a little more comfortable.

Despite his unease, he found himself intrigued by the shifters—both of them were undeniably handsome, with an easy strength that emanated from their every movement. But there was something about the way they looked at him that made him feel small, almost like a curiosity to be examined rather than an equal. Still, he couldn’t deny that their presence made the table feel a little more lively, even if it made his heart race a little faster.

--

After Sungjae and Kyungmin bid them farewell, heading off to go about their own duties for the day, the betas turned their attention back to Jungkook, who was still trying to process everything that had just happened. The human had been quiet for a moment, his thoughts lingering on Sungjae’s comment about being “soft” and “pretty.” It was something that both intrigued and confused him, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it just yet.

Seokjin, noticing the lingering unease on Jungkook’s face, cleared his throat gently.

“Sungjae and Kyungmin are both alphas,” Seokjin began, his voice soft as he leaned in slightly to offer some context to Jungkook’s apparent confusion. “Like Namjoon and Yoongi.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened a little. He hadn’t known that about the two shifters. “They’re alphas too?” he repeated, a little surprised by the revelation. He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant in practice, but he had learned that alphas seemed to hold a position of authority and respect within the pack.

“Yeah,” Hoseok confirmed with a small grin, nodding toward the empty space where Sungjae and Kyungmin had been. “They’re hunters for the pack.”

Jungkook nodded slowly, imagining how they must have hunted to bring food back to the pack. He had heard rumors about the strength and speed of shifters, but it wasn’t until he saw them up close that he realized how true it was. He thought back to when he first met Namjoon and Yoongi in their wolf forms, their massive, muscular frames and the sheer power radiating from them.

“Kyungmin is very playful and kind,” Hoseok added. “He has a good heart and a great sense of humor, even if he can be a bit too much at times.”

“Sungjae, on the other hand, is very direct,” Seokjin continued with a slight chuckle. “He doesn’t beat around the bush, and while he means well, he can come off a little too strong at times. But don’t worry, he’s not trying to make you uncomfortable.”

Jungkook nodded, trying to process everything they were saying. It seemed that the alphas were a mix of personalities, each with their own strengths and quirks. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be in the presence of so much strength and authority all the time, but then again, he was starting to realize that these alphas, despite their power, were kind in their own ways.

“They live in the alpha quarters,” Seokjin added, noticing Jungkook’s curiosity. “Both of them are yet to find a mate. So for now, they share quarters until they do.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow at that.

Before Jungkook could reply, Hoseok stood up with a bright grin. “How about we show you around the village a bit more?” He gestured toward the door, excitement lighting up his face. “I think it’s time you met the pups I teach at the school.”

Jungkook’s interest piqued, and he eagerly nodded, grateful for the distraction. His curiosity about the pack’s way of life had only grown since arriving, and meeting the young pups that Hoseok mentored seemed like the perfect way to learn more about this fascinating world.

As they left the dining hall, the trio walked through the village, the lively chatter of other shifters and the occasional distant howl filling the air. Jungkook couldn’t help but feel a little awed by the sheer size of it all—the village was like a small, self-contained world, with each corner offering new sights and experiences.

They arrived at the school, a large building made of natural materials that blended seamlessly into the surrounding landscape. It wasn’t what Jungkook had expected from a school, there were no rigid walls or stiff, formal desks. Instead, there was an open, airy space where the pups gathered in small groups.

“These pups are a bit younger than the others in the village,” Hoseok explained as they entered the building. “They’re in the early stages of learning how to control their wolf forms, and I help them with that. It’s not easy, especially since the younger ones often struggle with their instincts.”

Jungkook nodded, his eyes scanning the room filled with small shifters, some of whom were laughing and playing, while others appeared to be practicing focusing their energy in more serious ways. He couldn’t help but be fascinated by them—these young shifters were unlike anything he had ever seen before. They looked so much like children, but with an energy and a vibrancy that felt very different from the humans he knew.

“Hey, Hoseok-hyung!” one of the pups called out eagerly, waving at him with a bright smile. “Are we going to practice today?”

Hoseok laughed, his eyes softening as he approached the young pup. “Not today, buddy,” he said with a playful tone. “Today’s a special day. We’ve got a guest—this is Jungkook.”

The pups paused, their wide eyes instantly trained on Jungkook. Some of them looked curious, others nervous, but they all seemed intrigued by the human standing in their midst.

“Is this the human?” one of them asked, her voice full of wonder.

“The one Namjoon-oppa and Yoongi-oppa brought back?” another pup added, clearly fascinated.

Jungkook felt his cheeks heat up under their gazes, but he tried his best to smile. “Y-Yeah,” he stammered, feeling awkward but trying his best to appear friendly. “I’m Jungkook. Nice to meet you all.”

The pups immediately swarmed around him, their eyes filled with wonder. A couple of them even reached out to touch his hands, as if confirming he was real.

“You’re so small!” one of them giggled, poking Jungkook’s arm.

“You’re like a soft bunny!” another piped up, causing Jungkook to blush even deeper.

Hoseok chuckled at the pups' reactions, his pride in his students evident. “Be nice, guys,” he said, though it was clear he wasn’t upset. “Jungkook’s not used to all of you at once. Give him some space.”

But the pups just giggled and continued to hover around, their energy contagious. Jungkook’s nervousness started to fade as he interacted with them, their innocence and curiosity putting him at ease. They weren’t judging him, they were just excited to meet someone new. Their simple joy was almost overwhelming in its purity.

“Are you going to stay with us?” one of the pups asked eagerly, looking up at Jungkook with bright eyes.

Jungkook smiled softly, feeling the warmth of their innocent curiosity. “I think so,” he said, though he wasn’t sure of the details. He hadn’t had much chance to think about his future yet, but for the moment, he felt like he belonged here.

As Hoseok led Jungkook further into the room, he stopped to interact with a few of the other pups, his eyes lighting up whenever he spoke to them. Jungkook stood back for a moment, simply watching Hoseok interact with the children. There was a gentle, nurturing energy about him that was obvious to anyone who watched him with the pups. It was clear that he cared deeply for them, teaching them not just how to control their wolf forms, but how to navigate life as a shifter.

--

The hours passed quickly as Jungkook spent time with the pups, who were an endless source of energy and fascination. Each of them was unique in their own way, their personalities as varied as their appearances. The pups had different-colored eyes—some a deep, chocolate brown, others striking blue or soft grey—and each set of eyes seemed to hold its own little world. Jungkook was entranced by them, feeling more at ease as their infectious excitement slowly worked its magic on him.

Some of the pups were more boisterous than others, their tiny tails wagging furiously as they asked him questions or tugged on his sleeves, eager to learn about the human who had arrived in their village. Some pups shyly stood off to the side, watching him curiously but too nervous to approach, while others—more confident—seemed to gravitate toward him instantly.

At first, Jungkook felt a little overwhelmed by all the attention, but before long, he found himself laughing along with them. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to be surrounded by such innocent joy. It was pure, untainted by fear or the hard edges of the world outside the village.

"What do you say, Jungkook?" Hoseok asked, turning to the human with a playful gleam in his eye. "How about they show you their wolf forms?"

Jungkook’s eyes widened at the suggestion, a little apprehensive but also excited. The idea of seeing the pups transform was something he couldn’t resist. He nodded eagerly, settling himself on the ground to get a better view.

"Go on," Hoseok encouraged. "Show him how it's done!"

The pups were more than eager to oblige. One by one, they started to shift, their bodies rippling with muscle and fur, their forms twisting and changing as they let their wolf instincts take over. It was a beautiful, almost magical process, watching them transform before his eyes.

Some of the pups shifted almost immediately, their small bodies expanding into lithe wolves with glossy fur. Others, the ones who were still learning to control their transformation, took a little longer. Their bodies jerked and trembled, as if struggling to force their bones and flesh to change, but each one managed in the end, with Hoseok’s praise ringing in the air.

"That’s it! Good job, little one!" Hoseok called out as a pup managed to complete the shift, her fur shining in the light.

Once all of them had shifted, Jungkook was surrounded by a dozen small wolves, each of them circling him with eager eyes and wagging tails. They were so cute—round and fluffy, with playful energy that almost radiated off of them. Their excited barks filled the air as they crowded around him, nudging his legs and paws as they tried to figure out how to get closer to him.

Before Jungkook could react, one of the pups jumped up and landed in his lap, curling up against him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Not to be outdone, another pup jumped onto his other knee, then another, until Jungkook found himself with a small sea of warm, soft wolves on his lap. Each one was eager for attention, some licking his face while others nuzzled against him, seeking comfort in his touch.

Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh, his heart swelling at the sight of all these little creatures vying for his attention. They were so full of life and innocence, and it felt like the weight of the world had lifted for a moment, surrounded by such simple joy.

But Hoseok, ever the responsible one, wasn’t far behind. He watched the scene with a fond smile, but after a few moments, he cleared his throat to get the pups’ attention.

"Alright, enough of that!" Hoseok called out in a gentle but firm voice, his eyes twinkling with affection. "You’re making poor Jungkook uncomfortable with all of you piling on him."

The pups, still in their wolf forms, looked up at him, their eyes wide and innocent. But they didn’t stop trying to sit on Jungkook’s lap. It seemed they were determined to keep the human surrounded, almost as if they were trying to protect him.

Hoseok sighed with mock exasperation but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I said enough!" He walked over and gently pulled a few of the pups off Jungkook’s lap, his voice softening as he added, "Jungkook’s still hurt, remember?"

It was true. Jungkook’s leg, though healing, still ached from the injuries he had sustained, and the weight of the pups, though light, wasn’t exactly helpful for his comfort. Jungkook had barely noticed how the weight was starting to make his muscles ache until Hoseok had pointed it out.

The pups reluctantly withdrew, though their wagging tails and eager faces still made it clear they didn’t want to leave him. Jungkook chuckled, feeling a little overwhelmed but happy nonetheless. His heart was lighter now, filled with affection for these tiny wolves who had so readily accepted him into their world. It was strange, feeling such a bond so quickly, but it felt good.

"I’m alright," Jungkook said, rubbing his leg a little as he smiled up at Hoseok. "They’re just so cute… it’s hard to say no."

Hoseok chuckled, ruffling his hair affectionately. "I know," he said, his voice warm. "They’ve got that effect on people. But you’ll be alright. You just need to take it easy for a while longer."

As the pups shifted back into their human forms one by one, their energy didn’t seem to die down. They still looked at Jungkook with wide eyes, some of them still sneaking peeks at him as they eagerly waited for the next thing.

"Will you come back and visit us again?" one of the pups asked, his voice hopeful.

Jungkook nodded, smiling at the group of them. "Of course," he said. "I’d like that very much."

With that, the pups squealed in delight, their faces lighting up in joy at the promise. Jungkook felt a surge of warmth in his chest as he watched them scamper off, already getting back to their playful antics. Hoseok, Seokjin, and Jungkook shared a quiet moment, watching as the pups played together, their laughter filling the air.

For the first time since he arrived in this strange, new world, Jungkook felt like he belonged. The sense of safety and warmth that surrounded him here was unlike anything he had ever known. And though he wasn’t sure what the future held, one thing was for certain—this was a place where he could grow, where he could heal, and where, maybe, he could finally start to feel like he wasn’t alone anymore.

--

The warmth of the afternoon quickly turned sour when the parents began arriving to pick up their pups. The playful energy in the air shifted, and Jungkook’s heart sank slightly, knowing that it was time for them to go. He had enjoyed his time with the pups more than he could have imagined, their innocent joy making him feel less like an outsider.

But as the last of the pups reluctantly started to leave, one particular mother caught Jungkook’s eye. Her sharp gaze locked onto him almost immediately, a frown forming on her face as she marched over to where Hoseok, Seokjin, and Jungkook were sitting. Her aura was tense, the air around her crackling with an unspoken anger.

Hoseok and Seokjin stiffened, their smiles fading into neutral expressions as they noticed the woman approaching. Jungkook felt a knot tighten in his stomach, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as the tension in the air grew thick. He had no idea who this woman was, but the way she was glaring at him made him feel small, like he was being sized up as some kind of threat.

As soon as the woman reached them, she didn’t waste any time. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the stillness of the moment.

"I don’t want a human in the village, let alone in the school," she spat, her eyes narrowing in disgust as she looked at Jungkook. "He’s dangerous. You have no idea what he could do to our pups."

Jungkook recoiled instinctively, feeling the weight of her words settle like a heavy stone in his chest. His throat tightened, and though he wanted to say something—anything—to defend himself, the words refused to come. He just stood there, silently watching as she continued, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear.

"Humans have brought nothing but pain to us," she continued, her fists clenched at her sides. "I lost my mate to human hunters. They took him from me. And now you bring this one into our school, into our lives?" Her eyes burned with an intensity that made Jungkook feel as though she were accusing him personally of something he had no control over.

The pups, who had been gathering their things, looked at their mother with wide eyes, confusion and sadness reflecting in their expressions. They didn’t understand the hatred in her voice, and their young hearts ached as they looked between her and Jungkook, who was frozen in place.

Hoseok was the first to react, his voice steady but firm as he stepped forward.

"Enough, Mina." His tone brooked no argument, but there was something underneath it—a quiet understanding, a plea. "Jungkook is not a hunter."

Seokjin, who had remained silent until now, added softly, "He’s not like them. You’re angry, and I understand that... but you’re directing it at the wrong person."

Mina’s gaze snapped to Seokjin, her features twisting in frustration, but she didn’t say anything immediately. The silence that followed was thick, filled with the tension of unresolved emotions.

Jungkook could feel the heat of her glare on him, even though she wasn’t looking directly at him anymore. His body felt stiff, as if he were still trapped under her accusatory stare. His heart hammered in his chest, the hurt in her eyes more painful than anything else she could have said. The weight of the loss she had suffered was clear in the way she carried herself, in the tightness of her jaw and the way she clenched her hands into fists.

"You think I don’t know what humans are capable of?" Mina’s voice trembled, but there was a dangerous edge to it. "I've seen it. Felt it. The hunters hurt our people, kill our families. My mate—my soul—he was torn from me, and now you want me to accept a human in our village?"

Her voice cracked on the last word, a sob threatening to break through, but she quickly swallowed it down, her composure returning with a fierce determination. The sorrow in her voice, the raw pain of her loss, made Jungkook’s heart ache. But it was also that same sorrow that made him want to shrink away, to apologize for something he had never done. He wasn’t a hunter. He wasn’t like the ones who had taken her mate from her. But she didn’t see him as an individual. She saw him as part of a collective, a reminder of the pain that had scarred her.

"I didn’t ask for any of this," Mina continued, her voice steady now but edged with sorrow. "I didn’t want my family torn apart. But now we live with the scars, and we have to protect our own."

Hoseok stepped in front of Jungkook, his broad shoulders blocking the woman’s gaze from the human.

"We know your pain, Mina," he said quietly, his voice soft but carrying an unspoken weight. "We all have scars, in one way or another. But Jungkook isn’t your enemy. He’s a part of our pack now."

Seokjin’s eyes softened as he added, "We’re not asking you to forget your loss, Mina. But you can’t hold it against Jungkook. Not when he’s not the one who took your mate."

The woman’s eyes flicked to Seokjin, the hardness in them softening just a fraction. But the anger, the fear, remained.

After a long moment, she finally looked away, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she muttered a quiet, "I’ll never forgive the humans who did this to me." Her eyes lingered on Jungkook for a moment longer before she turned and walked away, her head held high despite the quiet sobs that could be heard as she left.

The silence that followed felt heavy, like a storm waiting to break. Jungkook was still standing there, trying to process everything that had just happened. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt—guilt for something he had no control over. He had done nothing to her, yet her pain felt like it was seeping into him, twisting his own heart with sorrow.

After a few moments, Hoseok and Seokjin turned to him, their faces soft but tired.

"She doesn’t hate you, Jungkook," Seokjin said gently. "She hates the hunters who took her mate. And for her, you are a reminder of that pain. That’s something she needs time to work through."

Hoseok placed a comforting hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, squeezing gently. "Not everyone is going to understand. Some people have scars that are too deep to heal quickly. But you’re here with us now. And that’s what matters."

Jungkook nodded quietly, though the weight of the woman’s anger and sorrow still clung to him like a heavy fog. He knew he wasn’t the one responsible for her loss, but in that moment, it felt like he was carrying the weight of it all.

"I didn’t mean to bring trouble," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t mean to make anyone upset."

"You didn’t bring trouble, Jungkook-ah," Hoseok reassured him, his voice firm. "People are just scared. And some people carry that fear with them for a long time. But you’ll be okay. We’ll make sure of it."

Seokjin nodded, his eyes thoughtful. "It’s not easy, but you’ve already made a place for yourself here. And you’ll keep making that place, day by day."

Jungkook looked at the ground for a moment, taking in their words. It wasn’t going to be easy, and he knew there would be more moments like this one—moments where his humanity would make others look at him with suspicion, with fear. But Hoseok and Seokjin were right.

He was here now, and this was his home. And with their help, maybe—just maybe—he could learn to live in this world where his mere existence was a reminder of pain and loss, but also the possibility of something new.

Notes:

So this chapter is super long, I just couldn't decide where to stop it.
Also, I'm starting to realize that this fic might end up being super long, which is a good thing I guess ??
I thought it would be like 20 chapters max at first but I guess it'll be much more than that.

Well, take care !

Chapter 13: Not Yet Welcome

Summary:

After spending the day with Hoseok and Jin, Jungkook has guests

Jungkook's legs felt heavy as he made his way back to the infirmary, the excitement of the day finally catching up with him. His body was still adjusting, and after two weeks of limited movement, walking around and engaging with so many new things had left him more tired than he had anticipated. He could feel the dull ache in his muscles, and even though he was still in good spirits, he couldn’t deny the weariness that settled in his bones.

It had been an eventful day, and his mind was buzzing with all the new experiences—the pups, the village, the interactions with the shifters. It felt surreal, almost dreamlike, but that didn’t stop the exhaustion from creeping in.

As soon as he stepped inside the familiar, quiet walls of the infirmary, he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. The peaceful atmosphere of the small room was a comfort, a place where everything felt a little more grounded. Hoseok and Seokjin followed him inside, chatting softly about the day’s events, their laughter ringing through the space. Jungkook managed a small smile as they settled at the small table near the window, their voices easy and comforting.

After they ate, the conversation began to slow, and it wasn’t long before Hoseok and Seokjin began to stand up, preparing to leave for the night. Hoseok ruffled Jungkook’s hair affectionately as he spoke.

“You should get some rest, Jungkook-ah. We’ve got another big day tomorrow. You’re still healing, so don’t push yourself too hard.”

Seokjin nodded in agreement, his gaze warm as he added, “Rest up, alright? Don’t stay up too late. We’ll check on you in the morning.”

Jungkook nodded, his exhaustion creeping up again. He couldn’t help but feel grateful for their presence, the way they always seemed to take care of him, even when he felt undeserving of it.

“Thanks,” he whispered, his voice a little softer than usual.

After the betas left, Jungkook settled into bed, pulling the covers up around himself. He let out a slow breath, staring out the window at the moon that shone high above the village. There was something about it that was calming, almost hypnotic. He had always liked the moon—its gentle glow that seemed to watch over everything. As he lay there, the quietness of the room wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, and his eyelids grew heavy.

But just as he was about to drift off into a peaceful sleep, a soft knock echoed from the door. It was gentle but distinct, cutting through the stillness of the room. Jungkook’s eyes fluttered open, his heart giving a small skip. He didn’t expect anyone else to visit him this late, especially not after the events of the day.

He pushed himself up from the bed, feeling the slight wobble in his legs as he moved toward the door. His muscles protested with the motion, but he ignored the discomfort, eager to see who it was. He opened the door cautiously, and his breath hitched in surprise when he saw who was standing there.

Namjoon and Yoongi.

It wasn’t unusual for either of them to appear at any given moment and their presence in the infirmary had become somewhat of a norm for Jungkook. But tonight felt different. There was something in the air, something unspoken. Maybe it was just the lingering fatigue of the day, but Jungkook found himself feeling a little more self-conscious under their gaze.

Namjoon stood tall, his usual relaxed yet commanding presence filling the doorway. His dark crimson eyes softened as they met Jungkook’s, and his mouth curled into a small, almost unreadable smile. Beside him, Yoongi stood with his usual quiet intensity, his icy gaze slightly narrowed but not unkind. His cool demeanor never wavered, though Jungkook could see a flicker of something—curiosity, perhaps?—beneath it.

Jungkook blinked, unsure of what to say at first. His mind was still processing the unexpected visit but he quickly opened the door wider and stepped aside to let them in. Namjoon and Yoongi both stepped into the room, and Namjoon gave Jungkook a nod of appreciation.

The moment they stepped into the room, the air shifted, thickening with unspoken words and unreadable expressions. Their presence was commanding, effortlessly filling the small infirmary with something heavy, something that made Jungkook’s pulse quicken. He took a slow step back, his fingers curling against the fabric of his pants as they silently moved to sit on the chairs near the desk.

They didn’t say anything at first.

The silence stretched between them, tense and suffocating. Jungkook swallowed, suddenly feeling impossibly small beneath their scrutinizing gazes. His skin prickled with unease, his body instinctively curling inward. The way they watched him—assessing, calculating—made his stomach twist with nervous energy.

Jungkook had spent the day with shifters who had looked at him with curiosity, warmth, and even amusement. But this was different. This was sharp. This was heavy. The weight of the pack’s strongest alphas staring at him, waiting for something, judging something, made his chest tighten.

He sat down carefully on the bed, his hands gripping the blanket beneath him as a way to ground himself. His mind raced, trying to figure out why they were here, why the silence felt so loud, why his throat was closing up with nerves.

And then he realized—of course. They had never truly spoken to him before, not properly. 

They didn’t trust him.

They had tolerated his presence, allowed him to heal, but at the end of the day, he was still an outsider, a human. Jungkook felt his heart hammering inside his chest, and when the silence became unbearable, he forced himself to speak.

“D-Do you… need something?” His voice wavered slightly, his tongue stumbling over the words. He winced at the sound of his own nervous stutter, feeling even smaller under their unreadable stares.

Namjoon and Yoongi exchanged a look, something quick and sharp passing between them. Then, Namjoon finally spoke, his deep voice cool and firm.

“We need to talk.”

Jungkook flinched at the coldness in his tone.

Yoongi leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, eyes dark and unwavering as he met Jungkook’s gaze. “Tell us exactly how you ended up in our territory.”

Jungkook inhaled sharply, his fingers tightening around the blanket beneath him. He had expected this question, had known it would come eventually, but now that it was being asked—demanded—he found himself struggling to find the words.

He looked down at his lap, trying to steady his breathing, trying to push past the nerves that clawed at his throat. “I… I ran away.”

Yoongi scoffed softly, though it wasn’t out of amusement. His gaze was sharp, cutting. “Ran away? From what?”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “From my village. From… them.”

Namjoon’s brow twitched slightly, but his expression remained otherwise impassive. “And why, exactly, did you need to run?”

Jungkook’s breathing hitched.

He wasn’t sure how to answer that.

How could he explain the years of suffocating isolation? The way the villagers had looked at him like he was something broken, something that didn’t belong? The fear, the pain, the cold rejection that had followed him since he was a child?

How could he explain that it wasn’t just one thing, one moment, but a lifetime of being unwanted?

His silence stretched too long.

Yoongi’s voice dropped lower, sharper. “Jungkook.”

His head snapped up at the sound of his name.

“Tell us the truth,” Namjoon said, his voice just as firm. “We need to know exactly what we brought into our pack.”

Jungkook bit his lip, trying to keep the emotions rising in his chest at bay. He could see it in their eyes—the hesitation, the suspicion. And he couldn’t blame them. He was human, after all. A human in a world of wolves. An outsider. A potential threat.

But this wasn’t something he could just say easily. His voice was quieter when he finally spoke again.

“They hated me.”

Yoongi and Namjoon didn’t react immediately, so he continued, forcing himself to keep talking, even as the words felt like knives against his throat.

“I don’t… I don’t know why exactly. I just know that for as long as I can remember, I was different from them. And they hated me for it.”

Namjoon’s eyes darkened. “Different how?”

Jungkook exhaled shakily, looking down at his lap again. “I don’t know.”

He didn’t expect them to believe him.

Yoongi’s voice was quiet, but there was something razor-sharp beneath it. “You don’t know?”

Jungkook hesitated, his fingers twisting in the fabric of his pants as he lowered his gaze. The weight of Namjoon and Yoongi’s stares pressed down on him, but he forced himself to keep speaking.

“I… I refused to become a hunter.” His voice was quiet but steady. “That’s why they outcasted me.”

The alphas remained unreadable, but something flickered in their eyes.

Jungkook nodded, exhaling shakily. “In my village, every boy was expected to train to become one. But I never wanted to hunt.” His fingers curled against his palm. “I never wanted to hurt anything. They saw that as weak. As… wrong.”

Yoongi’s brow twitched slightly. “That’s why you left?”

Jungkook gave a bitter, hollow laugh. “That was part of it. But… it wasn’t the only reason.” He swallowed, steeling himself before continuing. “I also ran away from my intended”

Namjoon and Yoongi, who had been cold and impassive up until now, visibly reacted to his words. It wasn’t a big reaction, but it was the first real sign that they had been caught off guard. Jungkook shifted uncomfortably under their stares.

“My parents were forcing the union. I never wanted to marry him,  I’ve always been scared of him”

Namjoon’s jaw tightened. “Who was he?”

Jungkook took a slow breath before answering. “He was one of the village hunters. One of the strongest.”

Yoongi’s eyes darkened. “And you say he was scary.”

Jungkook flinched. He hadn’t meant to say that part out loud, but it was already too late. Namjoon and Yoongi were staring at him now, their gazes sharp, demanding. They wanted answers.

Jungkook clenched his fists in his lap. “Yes.”

The alphas remained silent, waiting for him to continue. Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat, his voice barely above a whisper.

“He… He wasn't violent. Well n-not until recently.”

Jungkook's throat felt tight as Namjoon and Yoongi continued to stare at him, their expressions unreadable but their presence suffocating. He didn’t want to talk about it—not again, not with them.

But what choice did he have?

He was a guest in their territory, a human in a world that didn’t belong to him. If they demanded answers, he had to give them.

He forced himself to take a breath. "I—I really don’t want to talk about this," he admitted, voice quiet, almost pleading.

Yoongi didn’t soften. "And yet, you will."

Jungkook flinched. Namjoon didn’t say anything, but his gaze was just as heavy, just as unwavering. They weren’t going to let this go. His hands curled into the fabric of his pants, knuckles going white.

"He locked me inside," Jungkook finally muttered, staring down at his lap. "For a long time. I wasn’t allowed to leave" 

He swallowed hard, his stomach twisting at the memory.

"I spent weeks planning. I couldn’t just run without thinking. If I got caught…" His breath hitched, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before forcing himself to go on. "I knew I had one chance. Just one."

He could still feel the suffocating fear from that night, the way his heart had pounded as he gathered what little he could carry, waiting—praying—for the right moment.

"One day, he left me alone. For the first time."

Silence hung heavy between them.

Jungkook took another shaky breath. "So I left."

It wasn’t the whole story. Not even close. He wasn’t ready to say more, not now, not to them. But it was enough. It had to be enough. Yoongi and Namjoon didn’t speak immediately. When Jungkook finally dared to lift his gaze, he found Namjoon’s eyes, unreadable, his lips pressed into a firm line.

Jungkook barely had time to process Namjoon's tense silence before Yoongi scoffed, the sound sharp and biting.

"I told you," the alpha said, turning his head toward Namjoon. His voice was cold, edged with frustration. "I told you bringing him here was a mistake."

Jungkook froze. His fingers curled into the blanket on his lap, knuckles turning white. He felt like the air had been knocked out of him.

Yoongi’s gaze cut back to him, dark and unyielding. "You don’t belong here. Keeping you here is only going to bring us trouble."

Jungkook swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

"I—" He hesitated, his voice trembling slightly. "I don’t—"

"Is he looking for you, that husband of yours? » Yoongi interrupted, his tone sharp as a blade.

Jungkook's stomach twisted painfully. He forced himself to meet Yoongi’s gaze, though his entire body screamed at him to shrink away.

"I… I don’t know," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Yoongi let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Of course you don’t. How useless"

Jungkook flinched.

"And if he is?" Yoongi pressed, his voice turning colder, harsher. "If those human hunters come looking for you? What then? Your mere presence in this village is a risk for everyone"

Jungkook’s breath hitched, panic curling around his ribs like a vice. He hadn’t thought about that—not really. He had been too relieved, too grateful to have found safety, to have people treating him with kindness. But now, under Yoongi’s piercing gaze, he felt like he was suffocating.

Yoongi turned back to Namjoon, jaw tight. "You know I’m right. This is too risky." His voice was low, clipped. "Humans don’t just let things go. If they’re looking for him, we’re all in danger."

Jungkook felt something crack inside his chest.

"I didn’t ask to be here," he whispered, barely able to hear his own voice over the pounding of his heart.

Yoongi’s sharp eyes flicked back to him, angry, unimpressed.

"No, you didn’t. But you are here." His tone was unforgiving. "And that means you're now our problem."

Jungkook clenched his jaw, his throat burning. He could feel himself shaking, but he refused to let his tears fall—not in front of them.

He doesn’t understand why they brought him back in the first place. Why hadn’t they let him die in the forest if they hate his presence so much?

Namjoon had been silent all this time, watching Jungkook with that unreadable gaze. It made Jungkook feel small, weak. He hated it.

Jungkook sat frozen, fingers curling around the thin fabric of his blanket, knuckles white. His heart pounded in his chest, loud enough that he swore they could hear it. The weight of their gazes, heavy and unrelenting, pressed down on him until it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

"I understand," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. He didn't know what else to say. What else was there?

Yoongi scoffed, a sharp, humorless sound that made Jungkook flinch.

"No, you don’t," the alpha bit out, his voice low and cutting. "You don’t understand anything."

Jungkook sucked in a shaky breath, willing himself to stay still, to not let his shoulders tremble, to not let the sting in his eyes turn into actual tears.

Yoongi’s words hit him like stones, each one chipping away at the fragile bit of hope he had been clinging to.

A mistake. That’s what Yoongi thought of him. That’s all he was. Jungkook lowered his head, blinking rapidly to keep his vision from blurring. His throat was tight when he spoke again, forcing the words out before they could break apart.

"I just…" He swallowed, forcing his voice to remain steady. "I just want to say thank you. For everything. I know my presence here isn’t wanted. I understand."

His hands clenched in his lap, nails biting into his palms as he forced out the next words. "I’ll be gone by morning."

For a moment, there was silence. A suffocating, unbearable silence.

Then, Yoongi moved.

The alpha suddenly stood, the chair scraping against the wooden floor harshly, making Jungkook jump. His movements were sharp, abrupt—like he was barely restraining himself from doing something worse. His jaw was clenched, his fists tight at his sides. His blue eyes—filled with frustration and something deeper, something unreadable—were overwhelming.

"Good," Yoongi snapped, his voice laced with anger that Jungkook didn’t understand. "That’s a good idea."

Then he turned on his heel and stormed out, the door slamming shut behind him. Jungkook flinched again. The silence that followed was deafening. His chest ached, his stomach twisting painfully, but he didn’t move. He didn’t cry. Namjoon was still there, still watching. But he hadn’t said a single word. Jungkook exhaled shakily, forcing himself to lift his head, to meet the alpha’s gaze even though it hurt.

Namjoon sighed, the sound heavy in the quiet room. His crimson eyes flickered with something hesitant, something conflicted. But when he finally spoke, his voice was firm.

"Everything Yoongi said is true."

The words felt like a knife twisting deep in Jungkook’s chest. He hadn’t thought it was possible to feel worse than he already did, but apparently, he was wrong. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, willing himself to stay composed, to not show how much that hurt.

But it did. It hurt more than he thought it would.

Namjoon watched him closely, his expression unreadable. "As pack alpha, my duty is to protect my people first," he continued. "And you… you are a threat to that balance. To the safety, to the trust, to the community we’ve built here."

Jungkook squeezed his fingers into the fabric of his pants, his nails biting into his palms. He didn’t know what to say. What could he say? He understood. He really did. But knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Namjoon exhaled, his gaze steady, unwavering. "I don’t trust you, Jungkook."

Jungkook flinched, barely able to stop himself from curling in on himself.

"I know," he whispered.

The alpha tilted his head slightly, watching Jungkook’s reaction with sharp eyes. "Hoseok and Seokjin speak fondly of you. They say you’re kind. That you’re… different from what we expected."

Jungkook blinked up at him, startled by the shift in his tone.

"I trust my mates," Namjoon admitted. "But I am their alpha before anything else. Their safety is my priority. The pack’s safety is my priority. And no matter how much they might believe in you… I will always put my people first."

Jungkook’s breath hitched.

There it was—the confirmation of what he already knew. That no matter what he did, no matter how much Hoseok and Seokjin may like him, Namjoon would never choose him. He would never be part of this pack.

"I understand," Jungkook murmured, even though his chest ached, even though his hands trembled in his lap.

Namjoon nodded, standing up slowly. His presence felt overwhelming, suffocating even, as he gazed down at Jungkook one last time. The alpha let out another sigh, rubbing a hand over his face before leveling Jungkook with a firm stare.

"As much as I'd like you to just go back to where you came from," he said, voice devoid of any warmth, "I can’t let that happen."

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat. His fingers curled into the fabric of his pants, gripping tightly as he stared back at the alpha, feeling small under his piercing gaze.

"I don’t know what you’d do if I let you go," Namjoon continued. "You know where our village is. You know too much about us."

Jungkook felt his stomach twist. He wanted to argue—to tell Namjoon that he didn’t really know where the village was, that he had been unconscious when they brought him here. That even if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to find his way back to human territory.

But what was the point? Namjoon wouldn’t believe him. So he bit his tongue, keeping his thoughts to himself as the alpha continued.

"Tomorrow, you’ll spend the day with me," Namjoon declared, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I need to know what kind of person you are. What kind of threat you might pose."

Jungkook sucked in a shaky breath, his heart sinking further into his stomach.

So that was it.

Namjoon wasn’t keeping him here because he cared, or because he thought Jungkook needed protection. He was keeping him here because he was a liability—a possible danger to everything the pack had built.

Jungkook nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak. Namjoon didn’t wait for a response. He turned, his presence still heavy even as he made his way to the door.

"Get some rest," he said, not even looking back. And then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

Jungkook exhaled shakily, his hands clenched so tightly they ached. His chest felt hollow, his throat tight. He had been naïve. For a moment—just a fleeting, foolish moment—he had thought he might find a place here. A home.

But he wasn’t part of this pack. He never would be. And the worst part? They didn’t even trust him enough to let him go.

--

Jungkook let himself cry that night.

Silent, muffled sobs into his pillow, warm tears slipping down his cheeks, dampening the fabric beneath him. He didn’t fight it—didn’t see the point in holding it in anymore. What good had it ever done? He was exhausted. His body hurt, his heart hurt,

everything hurt.

His life had never been kind to him.

From the moment he was born, it had been nothing but pain. He had fought for so long, tried to stay hopeful, tried to believe there was something better waiting for him beyond the suffering. That if he ran far enough, fast enough, he could escape the shackles that had bound him for so long.

But where had that hope gotten him? Cast out from his own kind. Distrusted by the wolves. Trapped in a place that did not want him, among people who did not see him as anything more than a burden, a threat. He had just wanted to be free. To be safe. To not hurt anymore. But living had only ever been pain.

And gods, he was tired. So tired.

He curled into himself, arms wrapped around his trembling body, as if he could somehow hold himself together. But the cracks in him had grown too deep, too jagged.

He just wanted to rest.

And so, he let the exhaustion pull him under, let the tears lull him into the only peace he had ever known—sleep.

--

The next morning, Jungkook woke to the soft creak of his door opening. He blinked blearily, eyes still swollen and heavy from the night before. Before he could fully sit up, two familiar figures stepped inside, warm smiles on their faces.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Hoseok greeted, his voice light and gentle, as if he already knew just how fragile Jungkook felt.

Seokjin walked in beside him, holding a tray of food in his hands. "We figured you'd be hungry."

Jungkook swallowed, suddenly realizing how dry his throat was. He hadn't even noticed how much his body ached, weighed down by the remnants of his emotions. He muttered a small thanks as they set the food down, but the betas didn’t let him sit inside for long.

"Come on," Hoseok said, nudging his arm. "The sun is nice today. Let’s sit outside for a bit."

Jungkook hesitated, uncertain if he was ready to face the world beyond these walls. But when Seokjin gave him a look—one that was both knowing and soft—he found himself nodding.

With Hoseok’s help, he got to his feet, his body still weak from the previous day. They led him outside, guiding him toward a small clearing just beside the infirmary. The snow covered grass was thick and lush beneath their feet, the air crisp with the scent of snowdrops. The white patches of blooms swayed gently in the breeze, and despite everything, Jungkook couldn't help but take a deep breath, letting the scent fill his lungs.

It was peaceful here. Quiet. A sharp contrast to the storm still raging inside of him.

The three of them settled down on a blanket that the betas had brought with them, the sun warm against their skin. Jungkook pulled his knees to his chest, arms wrapped loosely around them as he stared down at the petals of a small white flower near his feet.

For a moment, none of them spoke. Then, softly, Seokjin broke the silence.

"We heard about Namjoon and Yoongi’s visit last night."

Jungkook tensed, his fingers tightening around the fabric of his pants. He didn’t say anything, didn’t know what to say.

Hoseok sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We should’ve figured they’d do something like that."

Seokjin hummed in agreement. "They can be… cold, sometimes. Especially when it comes to protecting the pack."

Jungkook let out a bitter laugh, though it lacked any real amusement. "They don’t trust me. They think I’m a danger to them."

"They don’t know you," Hoseok corrected, his voice firm but kind. "That’s different."

Jungkook wanted to believe that. He really did. But last night, with the way Yoongi had looked at him, the way Namjoon had spoken to him—it felt like more than just wariness. It felt like rejection. Like no matter what he did, no matter how much time passed, they would never see him as anything other than a threat.

Seokjin must have seen the doubt in his eyes, because he sighed, reaching over to pluck a flower from the grass. He twirled it between his fingers, watching the petals move in the breeze.

"Namjoon is our pack alpha," he said after a moment. "His job is to protect the pack above all else. And Yoongi… well, he’s just stubborn. But they’re not heartless, Jungkook. They’re not incapable of change."

Jungkook hesitated before speaking, his fingers tracing absent patterns against the fabric of his pants. "Namjoon-ssi told me I have to spend the day with him today."

He had expected Hoseok and Seokjin to react with sympathy, maybe even concern, but instead, their faces lit up with unmistakable delight.

"Really!?" Seokjin beamed, his eyes shining. "That’s great!"

Hoseok nodded enthusiastically, nudging Jungkook’s shoulder. "See? We told you he’d come around!"

Jungkook blinked at them, utterly baffled. "I don’t think it’s a good thing. He’s scary and he hates me."

The words left his mouth before he could think better of them, but they were true. Namjoon was terrifying. He was huge, intimidating, and when he spoke, it was with the kind of authority that made it impossible to argue. His crimson eyes were sharp, always watching, calculating, judging.

At that, the betas’ excitement dimmed slightly, their smiles faltering.

"You think Namjoon is scary?" Hoseok asked, his voice softer now.

Jungkook hesitated, feeling a strange pang of guilt. "I mean… y-yeah ? He doesn’t like me. I can tell. He thinks I’m a danger to the pack. He said so himself."

Seokjin sighed, shaking his head. "It’s not that simple, Jungkook."

Jungkook frowned. "Isn’t it? He doesn’t trust me, he doesn’t want me here, and now he suddenly wants me to spend the day with him? He’s just trying to keep an eye on me."

Hoseok gave him a knowing look. "Maybe that’s part of it," he admitted. "But think about it, if he just wanted to watch you, he could have assigned someone else to do it. He could have asked me or Jin to stay with you, or even another alpha like Sungjae or Kyungmin. But he didn’t. He asked to do it himself."

Jungkook bit his lip, staring down at his hands. He hadn’t considered that.

Seokjin reached out, placing a gentle hand on his knee. "Listen, Jungkook. You have to understand, when we first asked Namjoon if he wanted to spend time with you, he refused. Every single time. He would shut us down immediately, wouldn’t even entertain the idea. And now, suddenly, he’s asking you to be with him for the entire day."

Jungkook glanced between them, still doubtful. "So? What does that mean?"

Hoseok chuckled, shaking his head. "It means progress, sweetie."

Seokjin smiled at Jungkook’s puzzled expression, squeezing his knee lightly. "It means that even if he doesn’t realize it yet, Namjoon is starting to change his mind about you."

Jungkook exhaled slowly, his mind still filled with uncertainty. He wanted to believe them. He wanted to believe that maybe Namjoon’s intentions weren’t entirely cold, but it was hard.

"I don’t know," he admitted quietly. "It doesn’t feel like progress to me."

Hoseok sighed, leaning back onto his hands as he looked up at the clear blue sky. "Give it time."

Seokjin nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Joonie isn’t the kind of person who trusts easily. But once he does? There’s no one more loyal."

Jungkook remained silent, mulling over their words.

Progress.

He wasn’t sure if that’s what this was.

But either way, he didn’t really have a choice.

Seokjin and Hoseok exchanged a knowing glance before turning their attention back to Jungkook.

"I know Namjoon seems cold right now," Seokjin said gently. "But you haven’t seen the real him yet."

Hoseok nodded in agreement, his voice warm with fondness. "Namjoon is one of the best people I’ve ever known. He’s fierce, yes, but he’s also kind. He cares so much, sometimes too much. He carries the weight of the entire pack on his shoulders, and that makes him cautious. But once he lets someone in? There’s no one more loyal, more protective."

Jungkook listened quietly as the betas spoke, their words painting a picture of someone he didn’t quite recognize.

"You should see him with the pups," Seokjin continued, smiling at the memory. "He’s so patient with them. They crawl all over him, bite his ears, pull his tail when he’s shifted, and he just lets them. He teaches them how to fight, how to hunt—but more than that, he teaches them how to be good. How to protect, not harm."

Hoseok chuckled. "And with the elders? He’s so soft with them. He carries their baskets, chops their firewood—he even lets Eunji halmeoni scold him like he’s still a pup. And trust me, she scolds him a lot."

Seokjin sighed dreamily. "He’s just… good, Jungkook-ah. And Yoonie too, in his own way. I know they seem scary now, but they’re not heartless. They just don’t know you yet."

Jungkook frowned, chewing on his lip. "And you think spending a day together will change that?"

Hoseok grinned. "Well, it can’t hurt."

Jungkook wanted to believe them, but he still had his doubts.

He hesitated before speaking again, something lingering in the back of his mind. "Then… why were they so different when they found me?"

Seokjin and Hoseok both tilted their heads in question.

"What do you mean?" Seokjin asked.

Jungkook took a deep breath. "When they found me in the snow… they were intimidating, sure. But they weren’t… like this. They weren’t cold. Their wolves were—" He paused, remembering the way the massive creatures had pressed close to him, their hot breath warming his frozen skin. "They were kind. They nuzzled me. Namjoon-ssi’s wolf seemed worried about my leg, and Yoongi-ssi’s wolf—he nudged my head, like he was trying to keep me awake. They weren’t like this. They were different."

Hoseok and Seokjin looked at each other again, this time with something more serious in their expressions.

"That makes sense," Hoseok finally said.

Jungkook frowned. "How?"

Seokjin leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm. "Because wolves act on instinct. They don’t think the way we do in our human forms. They don’t calculate, don’t rationalize—they just feel. When they found you dying in the snow, they weren’t thinking about what you were. They just knew you needed help."

Hoseok nodded. "Their wolves saw you as someone who needed to be protected. That’s why they were gentle with you. But now? Now they’re thinking. Now they’re remembering that you’re human, that humans have hurt us before. Their instincts told them to save you, but their minds are telling them to be careful."

Jungkook swallowed. "So… which version of them is real?"

Seokjin smiled softly. "Both."

Hoseok reached over, ruffling Jungkook’s hair lightly. "That’s why you need to give them time. You saw who they were when they weren’t thinking. And maybe, if you let them, you’ll see that side of them again."

Jungkook wasn’t sure.

But for the first time, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—Namjoon and Yoongi weren’t as unmovable as they seemed.

--

Jungkook sat on the edge of his bed, his fingers gripping the blanket beneath him as he tried to steady his nerves. The infirmary was quiet now, save for the occasional rustle of leaves outside the open window. The soft afternoon breeze carried the scent of fresh snow and distant pine, but it did little to soothe the tightness in his chest.

Hoseok and Seokjin had left an hour ago, their parting words light and encouraging. "It'll be fine," Seokjin had assured him with a knowing smile. "Just be yourself."

Jungkook wasn’t sure what being himself even meant anymore.

His heart pounded unevenly as he waited for Namjoon, his mind running in circles. He told himself it was fear, that the alpha intimidated him, but deep down, he wasn’t sure that was entirely true. Namjoon hadn’t hurt him. Hadn’t so much as raised a hand against him. And despite the harsh words from the night before, despite the cold glint in his crimson eyes, Jungkook had this unshakable feeling—one he couldn’t quite explain—that Namjoon wasn’t cruel.

Maybe it was the way Hoseok and Seokjin spoke about him, their voices filled with admiration and fondness. How the pack pups apparently adored him, unafraid to climb all over him as if he were their personal jungle gym. Or maybe it was the memory of Namjoon’s wolf, standing over him in the snow, breathing warmth into his frozen skin, nudging him gently.

Could that really be the same person who looked at him like he was a threat?

Jungkook wanted to believe the betas. Wanted to believe that somewhere beneath the cold exterior, there was warmth. That Namjoon wasn’t as unmovable as he seemed.

Because Jungkook liked it here.

He had only seen a small part of the village, but he liked what he had seen. There was no cruelty here, no whispered accusations, no hands raised in anger. The shifters looked at him with curiosity, some with wariness, but none with outright malice. Even the ones who feared him, like the mother from the school, weren’t cruel. They had reasons for their distrust, reasons that Jungkook could understand.

But still, he wanted to stay.

He had spent so long feeling like he didn’t belong, like he wasn’t wanted anywhere. His parents had cast him aside, his own village had seen him as something less than human. But here, even in the short time he had been in the pack’s care, people had smiled at him. Spoken to him. Eunji halmeoni had called him cute. The pack pups had clung to him, their small hands reaching for his own without fear.

No one had ever looked at him like that before.

And maybe… maybe that was why he needed Namjoon to trust him.

Because if the pack alpha accepted him, then maybe he could be enough.

Just once in his life, he wanted to be enough.

Notes:

Hey !!

Sorry, i've been busy today. I had to go shopping to find an outfit for a birthday party and that's way more difficult than you would expect ah ah.
Poor Jungkookie is just a baby rabbit and doesn't deserve to be treated like that omg, but at least he will spend a day with Namjoon!!

Hope you enjoyed !

Chapter 14: Around the Market

Summary:

Jungkook and Namjoon spend the day together

A sudden knock on door makes Jungkook him jolt. His breath caught in his throat, fingers twisting in the fabric of his pants as he scrambles to stand. He hesitates, his pulse racing, before stepping forward and slowly opening the door.

Namjoon stands on the other side.

The alpha looks the same as always—tall and broad, his posture impossibly straight, a quiet power radiating from him like a steady pulse. His golden skin illuminated by the warm afternoon light, and his dark crimson eyes flickering with something unreadable as they swept over Jungkook.

Jungkook swallows.

"H-Hi," he says softly, lowering his gaze.

Namjoon doesn’t respond right away. His sharp eyes flicker to Jungkook’s face, lingering for a moment before he simply says, "Follow me." Jungkook hesitates, but then he nods, stepping forward to follow.

Today, he would try. He would prove that he wasn’t a threat. He would prove that he was enough.

Jungkook shifts on his feet as Namjoon stands by the door, waiting. The weight of the alpha’s gaze is heavy, pressing down on his shoulders like an unspoken demand. His heart is already racing in his chest, an anxious drumbeat as he steels himself for the day ahead. He doesn’t want to give Namjoon any more reasons to be annoyed with him.

The crutches stand by his bedside, a silent reminder of his weakness, of how dependent he is on the kindness of this pack. He doesn’t want to be seen as a burden, especially not by Namjoon, who already looks at him with so much suspicion. What if he thinks Jungkook is abusing their generosity? What if walking too slow irritates the alpha?

No. He won’t take the crutches.

Jungkook clenches his hands into fists, determined. His leg still aches when he moves, but he forces himself to take a step forward, doing his best to keep his posture straight, to make it seem effortless. He follows Namjoon toward the door, his gait slightly off but not too noticeable, at least, that’s what he hopes.

But Namjoon notices immediately.

His sharp eyes flick to Jungkook’s empty hands, then down to his legs. “You’re not taking your crutches?” he asks, his voice neutral but firm.

Jungkook freezes for half a second before forcing himself to answer. “My leg feels fine,” he says quickly, too quickly.

It’s a lie.

His leg still throbs from yesterday’s exertion, and every step feels like a quiet agony, but the alpha doesn’t need to know that. If he reveals how much it still hurts, Namjoon might think he’s weak. Worse, he might think Jungkook is trying to milk their generosity, to take advantage of their care.

Namjoon’s crimson eyes narrow slightly, scanning him with that sharp, analytical gaze. Jungkook knows the alpha doesn’t believe him. But after a beat of silence, Namjoon simply exhales through his nose and turns toward the door. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Jungkook releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and follows. Each step sends a dull ache through his leg, but he grits his teeth and bears it. He won’t give Namjoon any more reasons to see him as a mistake.

Jungkook follows Namjoon out of the infirmary, the warmth of the sun immediately kissing his skin as they step into the open air. It’s different from the cold, grey skies he remembers from when he first arrived. The air is crisp but not biting, and the sky stretches wide and clear above them. It’s a beautiful day.

But Jungkook can’t focus on any of that, not when Namjoon is walking beside him, silent and intimidating.

The alpha moves with purpose, his steps long and confident, his broad shoulders relaxed but imposing. Every movement of his feels deliberate, controlled, as if nothing he does is without reason. Jungkook, on the other hand, feels like an awkward shadow trailing behind him, his own steps hesitant, careful. His leg still hurts, but he keeps his pace steady, not wanting to fall behind or, worse, make Namjoon slow down for him.

With each step, Jungkook’s curiosity grows. Where is the alpha taking him? What does he plan to do with him today? But even as the questions fill his mind, his lips stay firmly shut.

Because what if Namjoon doesn’t want him to talk? What if asking questions annoys him?

Jungkook has spent his entire life treading carefully around those who held power over him. His parents, the hunters, the villagers, Sungil. He knows what happens when he speaks out of turn. Knows how quickly frustration can turn into anger. But then another thought worms its way into his mind, equally as distressing,

What if Namjoon gets annoyed by his silence instead?

What if the alpha thinks he’s being disrespectful by not acknowledging the fact that he’s taking time out of his day for him? Jungkook clenches his hands into fists, battling his indecision. Either way, he might upset Namjoon, but if he has to choose, he’d rather be annoying than disrespectful.

So he takes a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest, and forces himself to speak.

“W-where are w-we going?” he asks, his voice small, uncertain. He immediately winces, mentally cursing himself for the way he stuttered. Of course, he had to make himself sound even weaker, even more pathetic in front of the alpha. He bites his lower lip, shoulders tensing, already bracing for whatever reaction Namjoon might have.

The alpha doesn’t stop walking, but Jungkook notices the way his crimson eyes flick toward him, just for a second.

Jungkook follows Namjoon in silence, his head slightly bowed, eyes trained on the ground. He doesn’t want to speak too much, doesn’t want to annoy the alpha, but he still wants Namjoon to know that he heard him. So when Namjoon tells him they’re heading to the market, that he’ll finish showing Jungkook around today, he only nods in response. Nothing more, nothing less.

The silence between them is thick, stretching with every step they take. Jungkook doesn’t dare break it. He knows what it’s like to be scolded for speaking out of turn, for being too much. And Namjoon, he’s already made it clear that Jungkook’s presence in the village is a problem, a risk. He doesn’t want to push his luck.

Still, as they walk, Jungkook can feel Namjoon’s eyes flicking toward him every now and then, like he’s assessing him, weighing him. It makes Jungkook’s skin prickle, his shoulders tensing slightly. He doesn’t know what the alpha is thinking, if he’s silently judging him for his presence, for his every movement. The uncertainty gnaws at his nerves, making the ten-minute walk feel even longer than it is.

But when they finally step into the market, all of Jungkook’s unease momentarily melts away.

The sight before him is breathtaking.

The market is alive with energy, a vibrant heartbeat at the center of the village. Shifters move from stall to stall, chatting easily with vendors, exchanging goods, laughter, and greetings. The air is thick with the scent of fresh bread, grilled meats, herbs, and something sweet that Jungkook can’t quite name. It’s nothing like the cold, practical trading posts he had grown up around, where people exchanged goods in silence, their gazes wary and distrustful.

Here, there is warmth. Life.

The stalls are beautifully arranged, each one unique. Some are filled with colorful fabrics and handcrafted clothes, others with sturdy weapons—bows, knives, even intricately carved wooden spears. There are baskets of fresh fruits, golden honey in glass jars, leather-bound books, and even musical instruments. Everywhere he looks, there’s something new, something fascinating.

Jungkook hadn’t expected this.

He hadn’t expected the village to be so… full. So rich with life and community.

His wide eyes drink in the sights, but before he can linger too long, Namjoon continues forward, leading him through the crowd with ease. Jungkook quickly falls into step behind him, keeping his head low again, though his eyes can’t help but dart around, curiosity bubbling inside of him despite his nervousness.

They stop in front of a food stall, and as soon as Jungkook glances up, recognition floods him.

Eunji Halmeoni.

The elderly woman is exactly where Hoseok and Seokjin had said she would be, standing behind her stall with sharp, watchful eyes. Her silver-streaked hair is tied back, her face lined with age but strong, determined. She moves with practiced ease, expertly flipping something on a sizzling pan while scolding a customer for not bringing their own basket.

Jungkook immediately feels a strange sense of relief at seeing her.

Eunji Halmeoni hadn’t looked at him with fear or distrust the first time they met. She had simply regarded him with that same sharp, knowing gaze she seemed to give everyone. Hoseok and Seokjin had been right—she had a soft spot for them, even if she refused to admit it. And now, standing in front of her stall once again, Jungkook wonders if she’ll look at him the same way.

Would she acknowledge him at all? Would she call him foolish like she did with Hoseok and Seokjin? Would she scold him for not eating enough?

He isn’t sure why, but he hopes she does.

The moment they step close enough for Eunji Halmeoni to see them, her face lights up with a warmth so genuine that Jungkook almost takes a step back.

"Ah, Namjoon-ah!" she calls, her voice carrying over the chatter of the market. There’s an unmistakable fondness in her tone, the kind reserved for someone deeply cherished. And then Jungkook sees it.

Namjoon smiles.

Not the small, tight-lipped expression Jungkook has seen him wear in passing. Not the unreadable looks he gives when he’s assessing a situation, when he’s speaking as an alpha. No, this is something different. This is bright, open, real.

It transforms him completely.

His dimples appear, deep and endearing, his sharp features softening in a way that makes him seem… gentle. Like the person Seokjin and Hoseok had described to him. The fierce but kind alpha who would do anything for his people.

It’s a sight Jungkook has never been on the receiving end of. His chest tightens, a hollow ache settling in his ribs. Why? Why is the difference so stark? Is he really that unworthy? Has he been such a burden that Namjoon can’t even look at him like that?

Jungkook hadn’t expected the alpha to be kind to him, hadn’t hoped for affection or warmth, but seeing how easily Namjoon can smile for someone else, how effortlessly he can show something other than suspicion and coldness—it hurts.

More than Jungkook wants to admit.

Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize he’s stopped walking until he notices the small distance between himself and Namjoon. The alpha is already a few steps ahead, stepping up to Halmeoni’s stall.

Panic flutters in Jungkook’s chest.

He doesn’t want Namjoon to think he’s hesitating, doesn’t want to give him any reason to be even more displeased with him. So he quickly moves forward, falling back into step, making sure to keep just enough distance behind Namjoon so he doesn’t seem like he’s intruding.

By the time he reaches them, Halmeoni has already pulled Namjoon into a brief, one-armed embrace, patting his shoulder like a proud grandmother greeting her grandson after a long time away. It’s such a casual, familiar gesture, one that Namjoon easily leans into, murmuring a soft, “It’s good to see you, Halmeoni.”

Jungkook lingers in the background, unsure of where to stand, unsure if he even belongs here.

He watches as Halmeoni immediately turns to her stall, her hands moving with practiced ease as she begins preparing something. She doesn’t even ask Namjoon what he wants—she already knows. 

Then, just as quickly, she pauses. She glances past Namjoon, her sharp eyes landing on Jungkook.

"Ah," she hums, her voice softer now. « Ah Jungkook-ah, come closer pup."

Jungkook hesitates for only a second before stepping forward, shoulders slightly hunched. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous. She’s not looking at him with suspicion or fear like some of the others. In fact, her gaze is warm, expectant.

Still, Jungkook keeps his head slightly bowed as he moves closer, fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeves. He doesn’t know what she’ll say. But something tells him, she isn’t the kind of person to hold her tongue.

Namjoon seems just as surprised as Jungkook when Halmeoni suddenly reaches out, pulling the younger into a warm embrace. Jungkook barely has time to react.

She’s much smaller than him, but her presence feels so solid, so steady, that he finds himself frozen in place, unable to do anything but stand there as her wrinkled hands press gently against his back, her chin resting lightly against his shoulder.

She smells like warm broth and dried herbs, like sun-dried fabric and something faintly floral. It’s a scent that reminds Jungkook of home—of something safe. No one has hugged him like this in… he doesn’t even remember. His breath catches in his throat, and by the time he finds the confidence to lift his arms, to return the hug even a little, she’s already pulling away.

Jungkook’s hands drop uselessly to his sides, and for a moment, panic bubbles up in his chest. Had he done something wrong? Had he hesitated too long? Had she taken offense?

God, he hopes he hasn’t made a mistake.

He sneaks a glance at Namjoon, half-expecting the alpha to look displeased, maybe even irritated at the way Jungkook had frozen up. But Namjoon is just standing there, watching with unreadable eyes, looking more surprised than anything.

Before Jungkook can spiral too much, Halmeoni cups his cheek.

Her touch is firm but not rough, her palm slightly calloused but warm. It startles him so much that he doesn’t even realize she’s speaking until she’s already halfway through her sentence.

“—been well since we last saw each other?”

Jungkook blinks. It takes him a second to realize she’s asking about yesterday, about when she’d given him food at the infirmary. He takes a second too long to respond, his brain struggling to catch up.

“Ah—uh, yes,” he stammers, voice slightly uneven. “I’ve been fine, thank you Halmeoni.”

Then, quickly, before he forgets—“Thank you again for the food you gave me yesterday Halmeoni.”

She looks pleased at that, a proud little hum slipping past her lips as she pats his cheek once more before letting her hand fall away.

“Nonsense,” she scoffs, shaking her head. “You’re too skinny. You need more food in you.”

Jungkook lowers his gaze, unsure how to respond to that. She doesn’t give him the chance to, anyway.

“You come visit me, pup,” she declares, turning back to her stall. “I’ll feed you everything you want.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. That—he wasn’t expecting that.

He glances at Namjoon again, searching for some kind of confirmation that she actually means it, that this isn’t just something she’s saying out of politeness. But Namjoon doesn’t seem the least bit surprised anymore. If anything, his expression has softened slightly, like this is something he’s used to.

Something Halmeoni has done before. Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. So instead, he bows his head, hands curling into the fabric of his sleeves as he murmurs,

“Thank you, Halmeoni.”

His voice is small, almost shy. And for the first time since he arrived in this village, he doesn’t feel so completely out of place. Halmeoni fusses over Jungkook, the warmth in her tone and gestures so starkly different from the cold tension that had settled between him and the younger since their morning began.

“You’ve met before?”, Namjoon asks,

Halmeoni looks up from where she’s still tidying Jungkook’s hair with gentle hands. She hums, nodding as she turns back to her stall to start preparing food.

“Yes,” she says simply. “Hoseok and Seokjin brought him to the dining hall yesterday.”

Namjoon glances at him and Jungkook tries very hard not to shrink in on himself.

Halmeoni continues, her voice light, amused. “He was a cutie, really. So shy, so polite.” She shoots Namjoon a knowing look. “Unlike those two betas who keep trying to bribe me with empty flattery.”

Namjoon huffs a small laugh, unsurprised. “They still at it?”

“Always.” She rolls her eyes, but there’s obvious fondness in her tone. “Seokjinie especially. That brat thinks he’s better than me but still has the audacity to tell me otherwise just to get his way.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly at that, glancing between Namjoon and Halmeoni as if unsure whether she’s joking or not.

“He does that?” he asks hesitantly.

Halmeoni scoffs, turning back to face them. “Oh, all the time. He’ll praise my food to the high heavens just to sneak an extra portion That’s what he did yesterday.” She shakes her head before leaning closer, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Don’t tell him I know, though.”

Jungkook stares at her for a moment, surprised that she’s trusting him with something so simple yet so… familiar. Like a secret between friends. His lips part slightly—then, before he even realizes it, he’s smiling. A small, hesitant thing, but real. He doesn’t remember the last time he smiled like this.

“I won’t tell,” he promises, voice soft.

Halmeoni grins, clearly pleased. But then, just as quickly, her expression sharpens as she turns her attention to Namjoon. Jungkook barely has time to process the shift before she’s clicking her tongue, shaking her head.

“You,” she says, pointing a wrinkled finger at the alpha, “are being too cold to this poor kid.”

Jungkook stiffens, his stomach twisting. No, no, it’s okay. She doesn’t have to say that. He’s fine. Really. But Halmeoni doesn’t stop.

“Look at him,” she says, gesturing toward Jungkook. “He looks like he’s seconds away from passing out.”

Jungkook flinches at the scrutiny, his fingers gripping his sleeves tighter. He chances a glance at Namjoon, only to find the alpha frowning at him. The weight of Namjoon’s gaze feels heavy. Too heavy. Jungkook lowers his head.

Namjoon’s voice is quieter when he speaks again. “He said he felt fine.”

Halmeoni scoffs again. “And you believed him?”

Jungkook doesn’t dare look up, his ears burning with shame. He feels Namjoon tense beside him but says nothing. Then, Halmeoni sighs, the frustration in her tone melting into something gentler. Jungkook barely has time to react before her hand is in his hair again, combing through the strands with careful, deliberate motions.

Jungkook flinches at first, too surprised to do anything, but… she’s warm. He can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this. So slowly, hesitantly, he relaxes.

Halmeoni hums. “You’ve got a lot of sadness in those eyes, child,” she murmurs. “But it will go away with time.”

Jungkook swallows hard.

Then, still stroking his hair, she adds, “With care.”

And when she says that, she glares at Namjoon.

Jungkook sees the way the alpha clenches his jaw, the way he looks away instead of meeting her eyes. For some reason, that makes Jungkook’s chest ache. But before the moment can stretch too long, Jungkook bows his head again.

“Thank you, Halmeoni.”

She hums in response, giving his head one last pat before finally pulling away. Then, turning back to her stall, she starts muttering under her breath. Jungkook doesn’t catch everything she says, but he does hear a few words:

“Stubborn wolves.”

“Poor boy.”

“Starving for warmth.”

And for some reason, those words feel heavier than they should.

--

As they leave Halmeoni’s stall, Jungkook glances over his shoulder one last time, watching as the old woman waves them off with a warm smile.

“Eat well, little one! Don’t let this stubborn wolf work you too hard!” she calls out, her sharp eyes flicking pointedly toward Namjoon.

Jungkook quickly bows his head in gratitude, a small, hesitant smile tugging at his lips.

“I won’t,” he replies softly, though he’s not entirely sure it’s true.

Namjoon only huffs before giving Halmeoni a respectful nod, then starts walking again. Jungkook follows without hesitation, keeping a few steps behind.

The market is still as lively as before—vendors calling out their wares, scents of cooked meats and sweet pastries filling the air, shifters moving through the narrow spaces between stalls with an ease that Jungkook lacks. But despite the energy surrounding them, an awkward silence hangs heavy between him and Namjoon as they walk.

Jungkook doesn’t mind the silence itself—he’s used to it, finds a strange kind of comfort in it—but with Namjoon, everything feels heavier. The space between them feels unsteady, like thin ice cracking under his feet. Then, just as Jungkook is starting to think Namjoon might go the rest of the day without speaking to him, the alpha breaks the silence.

“Halmeoni likes you.”

It’s said as a fact, not a question, not an opinion. Jungkook blinks, caught off guard by the sudden statement. He thinks about it for a second, about how Halmeoni had smiled at him, hugged him, scolded Namjoon on his behalf. She had been kind to him. Cared for him in a way he wasn’t used to, in a way that made his chest ache with something unfamiliar.

And the strangest part?

She didn’t even know him. She didn’t owe him anything. He wasn’t a shifter. He wasn’t part of the pack. He was just… him. And yet, she cared. Jungkook grips the sleeves of his borrowed coat a little tighter and gives Namjoon the only answer he can.

“I like her too.”

His voice is quiet, but there’s no hesitation in it. Namjoon doesn’t respond right away, and Jungkook wonders if his answer was the wrong one. But then, just as he’s starting to overthink it, the alpha speaks again.

“Halmeoni is… peculiar,” he says, almost to himself. “She doesn’t like just anyone.”

Jungkook tilts his head slightly, glancing up at Namjoon in confusion. There’s something cryptic about the way he says it, something that makes Jungkook feel like there’s more meaning beneath the words, something Namjoon knows but isn’t willing to share.

Jungkook wants to ask. Wants to understand. But he doesn’t. Because he’s not sure Namjoon would answer him anyway. So instead, he simply hums in acknowledgment and keeps quiet. The silence settles between them again, heavier this time.

Jungkook keeps his gaze on the path ahead, his focus shifting to the dull, persistent ache in his ankle. It’s been bothering him for a while now, the throbbing worsening with each step, but he does his best to ignore it.

He won’t complain. Won’t show weakness.

Namjoon had already believed him when he said his leg was fine earlier. If Jungkook speaks up now, the alpha will know he lied. And if there’s one thing Jungkook has learned about Namjoon so far, it’s that the alpha doesn’t take kindly to deception. So he presses his lips together and keeps walking. Even as his steps grow slower. Even as his ankle protests with each movement. Even as he wonders how much longer he’ll have to endure this.

Jungkook doesn’t have time to react.

One second, he’s forcing himself to ignore the throbbing in his ankle, his thoughts still tangled in Namjoon’s cryptic words. The next, a blur of movement catches his eye, followed by the sound of fast, little footsteps. Then, two high-pitched voices cry out his name in pure, unfiltered joy.

“Jungkook-hyung!”

"Jungkook-oppa!"

He barely has a second to brace himself before two small bodies crash into him, nearly knocking him off balance. His breath stutters, arms instinctively reaching out to steady himself, but the impact isn’t rough—just sudden, warm, and full of excitement.

Jungkook blinks, looking down in surprise. Two tiny pups cling to him, their small hands grabbing onto his coat as they tilt their heads up, beaming at him with wide, excited grins. He recognizes them immediately. They had been at the school yesterday.

There had been so many pups, their energy overwhelming, their names all blending together. He hadn’t managed to remember them all, but he remembers these two—remembers how they had been stuck to Hoseok’s side, whispering between themselves before stealing curious glances at Jungkook.

Twins, he realizes now.

They share the same black hair, the same striking green eyes. The same bright, eager expressions. The only difference is their hairstyles—the little girl’s hair slightly longer, pulled into a loose ponytail, while the boy’s is shorter and messy, sticking out in different directions. The girl is the first to speak, her words tumbling out in excitement.

“We saw you from over there and ran as fast as we could!” she announces proudly, bouncing on her feet. “We were so happy when we saw you, Jungkook-oppa!”

“We missed you!” the boy adds, nodding rapidly. “When are you coming back to the school?”

“Will you give us lessons like Hoseok-oppa does?” the girl asks eagerly, her hands gripping Jungkook’s sleeve.

“Do you like ice cream?” the boy suddenly blurts out, eyes wide with curiosity.

Jungkook barely has time to process the flood of questions before another one follows.

“Do you like listening to music?”

“Did you think our wolves were scary enough?”

The girl pouts slightly at that last question, eyes narrowing. “We tried to look really big and strong when we shifted! Did it work? Were you scared?”

The onslaught of questions makes Jungkook’s mind spin. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out at first, too caught off guard by their energy. Then, a quiet chuckle escapes him. It’s soft, barely more than a breath, but it surprises him. Because for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t feel anxious or out of place.

He feels… wanted.

He shakes his head lightly, the corners of his lips twitching as he meets the twins’ expectant gazes.

“One question at a time,” he says gently, his voice carrying the smallest hint of amusement.

The twins immediately straighten up, nodding eagerly, practically vibrating with excitement. Jungkook takes a breath, carefully choosing where to start.

“I don’t know when I’ll come back to the school,” he admits honestly. “That’s up to Hoseok-hyung.”

The twins’ faces fall slightly at that, but Jungkook quickly adds, “But… if I do come back, I wouldn’t mind helping out.”

The words feel strange leaving his lips, but not in a bad way. The twins brighten instantly.

“So you will teach us?!”

Jungkook hesitates, then nods. “If Hoseok-hyung lets me.”

Their excitement returns in full force, and Jungkook finds himself smiling despite himself.

“As for ice cream…” he hums, tilting his head in thought. “I think I’ve had it before.”

“You think?” the boy asks, looking scandalized. “How do you not know?!”

Jungkook shrugs lightly. “It’s been a long time.”

“We need to get you some ice cream,” the girl declares, determined. “The best kind!”

Jungkook chuckles again, warmth blooming in his chest at their enthusiasm. Then he remembers another one of their questions. Music. He thinks back to the nights spent alone, curled up in the dark with nothing but the faint echoes of old songs in his mind—soft melodies that used to lull him into something resembling peace.

“I do like music,” he answers, voice quieter now. “A lot.”

The twins cheer at that, their excitement never fading. And finally, Jungkook meets their eyes with a small, playful smile.

“As for your wolves…” he hums, pretending to think. “Hmm. I’m not sure.”

The twins gasp, scandalized.

The boy tugs at Jungkook’s coat. “What do you mean you’re not sure?! We were very scary!”

Jungkook taps his chin, pretending to consider it. “Maybe a little bit.”

The girl pouts. “Only a little?!”

Jungkook grins, something light and unfamiliar settling in his chest.

“You’ll just have to show me again next time,” he teases.

The twins nod eagerly, already plotting their next attempt. And as Jungkook watches them, something inside him softens. Maybe… Maybe he really does like it here. Jungkook feels it before he sees it. The weight of a gaze on his skin. When he glances up, Namjoon is already looking at him.

The alpha's expression is hard to decipher, his crimson eyes sharp but not unkind, his face unreadable in a way that makes Jungkook uneasy. Not because he expects anger or irritation—but because for the first time, Namjoon isn't looking at him like he's an outsider.

Jungkook doesn't know Namjoon well enough to name the emotion in his gaze. It isn’t distrust, not exactly. More like… curiosity. Like Namjoon is trying to figure something out but isn’t sure what. Like he’s studying Jungkook’s intent, testing the air between them, but not outright assuming that it’s malicious anymore.

Jungkook barely has time to process the shift before it’s gone, wiped clean from Namjoon’s face in an instant, replaced by something sterner. The alpha crosses his arms and levels the pups with a disapproving look.

“Yuna. Yunho.” Namjoon’s voice is firm, steady. “You can’t go barreling into people like that. It’s dangerous.”

Jungkook’s lips part slightly. He hadn’t even known their names until now. The twins look up at Namjoon, unconcerned, their little faces scrunching in protest.

“But we were excited!” Yunho argues immediately, gripping Jungkook’s sleeve like he’s worried the human will vanish if he lets go. “We saw Jungkook-hyung and ran super fast so we could reach him before he disappeared!”

“Yeah!” Yuna nods rapidly, her ponytail bouncing. “We couldn’t wait!”

Namjoon sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “That doesn’t mean you should run into people. What if Jungkook got hurt?”

Both pups blink at that like they hadn’t even considered the possibility. Jungkook, on the other hand, has considered it. His ankle is already throbbing from forcing himself to walk without his crutches, and the impact from their sudden embrace had sent a sharp jolt of pain through his leg. But the pups had been too happy, too warm, and he hadn't wanted to ruin the moment.

So he stays silent, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

Yuna pouts. “But we didn’t hurt him, right, Jungkook-oppa?”

Both pups turn to him, eyes wide and expectant. Jungkook hesitates.

Then he musters a small smile and shakes his head. “I’m okay.”

The twins beam.

“See?” Yunho turns back to Namjoon triumphantly. “No harm done!”

Namjoon doesn’t look convinced, but before he can scold them further, Yuna suddenly gasps, eyes lighting up.

“Wait! You know Jungkook-oppa?” she asks, bouncing on her toes.

She and Yunho exchange a glance, then turn back to Namjoon, looking delighted. “You know him?”

Jungkook stiffens slightly, unsure of what Namjoon will say.

Namjoon simply exhales, long and slow, before nodding. “I do.”

That’s all he says. But it’s enough to make the pups explode with excitement.

“Then we can tell you all about yesterday!” Yunho exclaims.

“Jungkook-oppa came to the school with Hoseok-oppa and Seokjin-oppa!” Yuna starts, talking fast. “And we showed him everything! He sat with us and watched our lessons, and then we showed him our wolves!”

“We tried to look super scary!” Yunho cuts in. “We growled real loud!”

Jungkook bites his lip, trying not to smile at the memory.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Scary, huh?”

“Uh-huh! But Jungkook-hyung wasn’t scared at all.” Yunho deflates a little at the admission.

Yuna elbows her twin. “That’s because Jungkook-oppa is really brave.”

Yunho blinks, then nods quickly, his disappointment forgotten. “Yeah, you’re right!”

Jungkook stiffens at the praise, unsure of how to respond.

Brave?

That’s not a word he would ever use for himself. He doesn’t feel brave. He feels exhausted. But the twins are looking at him like he hung the moon, their admiration so open and genuine that he doesn’t have the heart to argue. So he stays silent, letting them talk.

“And!” Yuna continues, eyes sparkling. “We sat in Jungkook-oppa’s lap, and he didn’t even mind! He let us stay there for a long time!”

Yunho nods eagerly. “He was really nice! He didn’t push us away even once!”

Namjoon’s gaze flickers to Jungkook at that, unreadable again. Jungkook forces himself not to fidget under the attention, keeping his focus on the pups. Namjoon doesn’t say anything, just lets them talk, lets them ramble on about Jungkook like he’s the most fascinating person in the world. Jungkook isn’t used to it.

Being wanted. Being spoken about with such excitement.

It makes something tighten in his chest, an unfamiliar warmth blooming alongside it. For once, he doesn’t feel like a burden. And that feeling alone is enough to make his throat ache.

After a while, the pups finally run back to their parents, their little arms wrapped tight around Jungkook one last time before they go. Jungkook hugs them back without hesitation. He doesn’t even think about it, doesn’t second-guess himself. Just lets himself sink into their warmth, their easy affection, their pure, unwavering acceptance of him.

He’s careful to not let his grip be too tight, careful with the way he holds them. He doesn’t want to be greedy. Doesn’t want to take too much. Even though—deep down—he aches to hold onto them just a little longer.

But soon enough, they’re gone, running off with wide, happy grins, their excitement spilling into the market like sunshine. Jungkook watches them disappear into the crowd, feeling lighter and heavier at the same time.

Then, just like that, silence falls between him and Namjoon once more. They start walking again, weaving through the market, side by side. Jungkook sneaks a glance at the alpha. Namjoon’s face is unreadable again, his attention focused ahead, crimson eyes scanning the market as they move. He doesn’t look irritated, but he doesn’t look particularly warm, either.

Jungkook sighs internally. He just… doesn’t know how to talk to Namjoon. Doesn’t know what to say, or what not to say. He wants to explain himself. Wants Namjoon to understand that he’s not a threat, that he’s not some bad person waiting to bring harm to the pack.

But what right does he have to demand that? What right does he have to impose himself on the pack alpha?

Namjoon has every right to distrust him. Every right to be wary. Jungkook is an outsider. A human. A nobody. As much as Namjoon’s cold behavior keeps reopening wounds that had never really closed in the first place, Jungkook knows he has no right to expect kindness. He has no right to expect warmth. No right to expect anything.

All he can do is bear it.

Bear this one day. And hope, maybe foolishly, maybe selfishly, that one day, he’ll be able to live with it. For now, though, he’ll just have to endure. They walk in silence for a long while, their pace slow, the market buzzing with life around them. Then, Namjoon suddenly speaks.

“I didn’t know you went to the school.”

Jungkook blinks, thrown off by the statement.

He looks up at the alpha in surprise. “I—” He clears his throat quickly, voice wavering slightly. “I went because Hoseok-hyung and Seokjin-hyung said it was okay.”

Namjoon hums, but it doesn’t give Jungkook any clues as to what he’s thinking. So Jungkook hesitates, his stomach twisting uneasily.

“… Was it not okay?”

Namjoon doesn’t answer right away, and Jungkook panics slightly. He hadn’t even thought about whether or not he should have gone. He had just assumed that if the betas said it was fine, then it was.

But now... now he wonders.

“Should I not have gone?” he asks, his voice quieter this time. “Did I—was I not supposed to be there?”

Namjoon glances at him then, his eyes sharp but lacking the coldness they usually hold. Jungkook bites his lip, hands clenching slightly. He doesn’t know why this matters so much. Why the thought of doing something wrong—of disappointing Namjoon—makes his chest feel so tight.

But it does.

And now all he can do is wait for an answer. Namjoon doesn’t answer right away. He just keeps walking, his long strides slow but purposeful, his gaze fixed ahead. Jungkook watches him carefully, waiting. The alpha’s brows are furrowed, but not in the way they usually are when Jungkook is around—not with distrust or frustration or thinly veiled irritation. No, this is different. His expression isn’t negative, not exactly.

It’s thoughtful.

Like Jungkook’s words had genuinely caught him off guard. Like he hadn’t expected the question. Namjoon finally speaks after a few moments of silence.

“I hadn’t thought you would go to the school,” he says, his voice even, unreadable.

Jungkook glances at him, but the alpha still isn’t looking at him. His gaze is fixed ahead, like he’s speaking more to himself than to Jungkook. There’s no accusation in his words, no anger or frustration, just quiet surprise, as if the thought had never even crossed his mind before now.

Jungkook’s fingers tighten around the sleeves of his tunic. He isn’t sure what to say to that.

Should he apologize?

Should he explain?

Did he not want Jungkook around the pups? But Hoseok and Seokjin had said it was okay. They had even encouraged it. Still, Namjoon’s words sit heavy in his chest. Jungkook wets his lips, hesitant, before speaking.

“Was I… not supposed to?” he repeats cautiously.

Namjoon’s stride doesn’t falter, but Jungkook can feel the way his presence shifts, the way his aura ripples with something unspoken.

“It’s not that,” Namjoon replies after a beat, still looking straight ahead. “I just… didn’t think you would.”

Jungkook stares at him, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. Did Namjoon mean he hadn’t thought Jungkook would stay long enough to go? That he hadn’t thought he would try to integrate into pack life at all?

Or, maybe, like he hadn’t expected Jungkook to have gone to the school in the first place. Jungkook glances away, shifting his gaze to the ground, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Did he do something wrong? Should he not have gone? But no, that’s not what this is. Namjoon doesn’t look angry. He doesn’t look displeased.

If anything…

He looks almost as if this is the first time he’s even considered the possibility of Jungkook staying long enough to have gone at all. Like, in his mind, Jungkook should have been long gone by now. Like he should have been dead. Or escaped. Or done something, something reckless, something harmful, that would have led to the pack having to deal with him permanently.

But he hadn’t.

He hadn’t run away, or tried to do anything dangerous. He was still here. Still standing beside Namjoon, still walking through the market, still breathing, still existing in a space that Namjoon clearly hadn’t planned for him to occupy. And now, it seems, Namjoon doesn’t know what to do with that. Jungkook swallows, the realization sitting heavily in his chest.

Is that really what Namjoon had expected of him?

To be dead? Gone? Out of their lives by now, in one way or another?

He doesn’t know why it stings so much, but it does. Even though he understands. Even though it makes sense. Because he is human, after all. Namjoon doesn’t say anything else. He just keeps walking.

And Jungkook follows, silent.

Notes:

Hey y'all

I actually wanted to finish editing this chapter yesterday but i guess i must have caught the flu or something. I don't even know if i'll be able to go to my friend's birthday party. But well, that's life.

So happy Namjoon is willing to spend time with Jungkook ! I'll try to update the next chapter today so you can read all about their day.

See y'all

Chapter 15: Echoes of the Past

Summary:

Second part of Jungkook's and Namjoon's day together

As they walk through the market, Jungkook follows Namjoon in silence. He doesn’t know where they’re going next, and he doesn’t dare ask. Namjoon’s words from earlier still linger in his mind, leaving a strange feeling in his chest that he can’t quite shake.

Then, a new presence enters their space.

“Namjoon-ah,” a deep voice greets, casual yet respectful.

Jungkook recognizes the man before he even gets a proper look.

Sungjae. The alpha from the dining hall. The one who had made Jungkook feel unsettled with the way he stared, the way he spoke so boldly.

Sungjae carries an armful of what looks like weapons—thick leather straps looped over his shoulders, securing knives and other hunting gear to his frame. His tunic and pants are smudged with dirt, and there’s the faint scent of blood clinging to him, though it’s not his own. He must have just returned from a hunt.

Jungkook stays behind Namjoon, instinctively using the alpha as a shield between himself and Sungjae. He isn’t even sure why, Sungjae hasn’t actually done anything to hurt him, but there’s something about the man that makes him nervous.

Namjoon, however, doesn’t seem bothered by his presence at all. In fact, the way they greet each other, exchanging a few words about the hunt, makes it clear that they’re close. Friends, even.

Namjoon doesn’t have the same stiffness in his shoulders that he usually has when he’s around Jungkook. His voice is more relaxed, more familiar. He doesn’t smile, but he also doesn’t look nearly as cold as he does when addressing Jungkook.

And that stings.

Sungjae, still balancing his hunting gear, finally shifts his gaze. Right at Jungkook. His eyes are sharp, piercing. Intense. It’s not necessarily a bad look, but it’s unwavering. He stares at Jungkook like he’s trying to see right through him, like he’s sizing him up. Jungkook forces himself to hold the gaze, despite how much he wants to lower his head. After a moment, Sungjae finally speaks.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable yesterday,” he says, voice deep and steady.

Jungkook stills.

Oh. Of course, Sungjae is talking about what happened in the dining hall—the way he had spoken so directly, the way he had called Jungkook pretty without hesitation, without shame. And the truth is, yes. Yes, Jungkook had been uncomfortable. But he would never admit that. Not to Sungjae. And definitely not in front of Namjoon. Not that anyone would care, anyway.

So he just shakes his head. “No, it’s… it’s fine.”

Namjoon, who had been mostly quiet up until now, turns slightly. His gaze flicks between Sungjae and Jungkook, and his brows furrow slightly.

“What do you mean by that?” he asks Sungjae.

Sungjae shrugs as much as he can with all the weapons strapped to him. “I might have been too direct with my words yesterday.”

Jungkook risks a glance at Namjoon. The alpha is still frowning, clearly waiting for more. Sungjae, however, doesn’t look the least bit remorseful. In fact, he smirks.

“But,” he continues, locking eyes with Jungkook again, “I don’t regret it.”

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat.

Sungjae shifts his grip on his weapons, adjusting them on his shoulder, before adding, “Because it was the truth.”

And then, just as boldly as he had done in the dining hall, he says it again.

“I still think you’re pretty.”

Jungkook stiffens, heat rushing to his face. Namjoon is still watching, his expression unreadable. And Sungjae just smirks, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Jungkook must be bright red by now.

His skin feels hot, burning up to the tips of his ears, and he can’t even will himself to move. He wants the ground to split open beneath him and swallow him whole, to make him disappear from this moment entirely.

Sungjae’s words aren’t meant to be cruel. There’s no malice behind them, no sneer or condescension. If anything, he sounds perfectly genuine. Like he truly means what he says. And that unsettles Jungkook the most. "Pretty." He’s heard the word before. But never like this. The villagers used to spit it at him like an insult. A way to remind him that he wasn’t a real man in their eyes. That he was delicate and weak. And then there was him.

Sungil.

That man had called Jungkook pretty in a voice dripping with venom, laced with possessiveness. It was never just a compliment when Sungil said it. It was a reminder that he belonged to him. That no one else would want him. That his beauty was something to control. Sungjae, however—he says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Like it’s simply true.

Jungkook doesn’t know how to react. His hands clench into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms, and he wills himself not to shrink under the weight of Sungjae’s gaze.

Then—

"Pretty?"

Namjoon’s voice is quiet but firm, carrying that distinct authority that makes Jungkook’s stomach churn with nerves. The alpha isn’t even looking at Sungjae anymore.

He’s looking at him.

Jungkook stiffens further. He can feel Namjoon’s eyes scanning over him, and the attention is unbearable. There’s something in the alpha’s tone, like he’s questioning the word itself. Like he’s trying to make sense of it. He looks from Sungjae to Jungkook, brows furrowed ever so slightly, and for the first time since they started this outing, he seems genuinely taken aback.

Jungkook wants to run.

He can’t bear to lift his head, can’t bear to meet either of their gazes. His heart is beating too fast, his mind spinning with thoughts he can’t process. But when he finally does glance up, they’re both looking at him. Sungjae, still wearing that slight smirk, like he’s completely at ease with what he’s just said.

And Namjoon—

Namjoon with something akin to surprise lingering in his eyes.

Jungkook swallows hard. He doesn’t know which expression unsettles him more.

Sungjae huffs out a short laugh, shaking his head before lifting a hand in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop.”

His voice is amused but not mocking, and Jungkook risks a glance up at him, only to find that his sharp eyes are still trained on him, filled with something intense. Then, just as Jungkook thinks it’s over, Sungjae turns his attention back to Namjoon, a smirk curling the corner of his lips.

“But I will say—” He tilts his head slightly, as if observing Jungkook from a new angle. “He looks even prettier when he’s blushing.”

Jungkook’s breath stutters, the heat in his cheeks intensifying to something almost unbearable. He doesn’t know what to do, where to look, how to respond—so he does the only thing he can do and stares at the ground, shoulders tensed.

And still—Namjoon says nothing. Not a word. The alpha continues to look at him, gaze unwavering, unreadable, but he offers no reaction to Sungjae’s words. He doesn’t scoff or disagree, doesn’t roll his eyes or shake his head.

He just looks.

Jungkook feels like he’s about to explode. Sungjae lets out another laugh, but this time it’s softer, less teasing, as if he’s finally had his fun. He lifts his weapons higher onto his shoulder and steps back.

“I’ll get going now,” he says, nodding towards Namjoon. “Enjoy your day Namjoon-ah.”

Then, he turns to Jungkook, giving him a playful nod. “You too, little human.”

And just like that—he’s gone.

Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, heart still hammering in his chest, the ghost of Sungjae’s words lingering in the air. He risks another glance at Namjoon, but the alpha has already started walking again, like nothing even happened.

So Jungkook follows. And once again, the silence stretches between them. It’s always like this.

Whenever they meet someone, talk to someone, the moment they’re alone again, they’re stuck in this heavy, unspoken quiet. It should be suffocating, unbearable—but Jungkook prefers it over Sungjae’s flustering words, so he keeps his mouth shut and lets Namjoon lead the way.

They walk through the village, taking a path that slopes slightly upward, away from the center of the market. It’s different from where they’d been before—less crowded, quieter, more open. Jungkook doesn’t know where they’re going, but he doesn’t dare ask.

Until they arrive.

The scent of steam and minerals hits him first, warm and crisp in the winter air. Then, as they round the corner of a worn stone path, his eyes widen. Nestled between towering cliffs and thick pines, a series of pools shimmer under the pale afternoon sun, their waters a soft, misty blue.

Hot springs.

Jungkook stops in his tracks, completely forgetting about Namjoon beside him as he takes it all in. The steam rises in gentle wisps from the water’s surface, curling into the air, giving the whole place an almost ethereal look. It’s beautiful. Magical.

He’s never seen anything like this before. Never in his entire life. His excitement bubbles up before he can suppress it, his lips parting in quiet awe as he steps closer, drawn in by the sheer beauty of it all. The warmth in the air, the way the sunlight glows against the water—it’s mesmerizing.

He doesn’t want to seem too greedy, too eager, but he wants. God, he wants.

The idea of soaking in the warm water, of washing away the aches and pains in his body, of feeling something so luxurious—

It’s too much.

And yet, he can’t stop staring. For a moment, he forgets about everything else. About Namjoon, about the village, about his own hesitance. Because right now, in this moment, all he can think is,

I want to go in.

Jungkook swallows down the longing that bubbles up in his chest. He doesn’t ask if he can go in. That would be too much, too soon. He’s already been given so much—food, clothes, shelter. He knows better than to ask for more, to risk overstepping some invisible boundary. But later? Maybe if he earns it, maybe if he proves himself useful, Namjoon will allow it.

Maybe.

So for now, he keeps his mouth shut, lets his gaze linger for just a moment longer before looking away, trying to pretend like he isn’t hoping for something he probably can’t have.

Then Namjoon speaks.

“The springs are open to everyone,” the alpha says, his voice even, calm. “The left side is for women, the right for men. It’s maintained year-round, so even in winter, the water stays warm.”

Jungkook listens, nodding absentmindedly, but then—he hesitates. Why is Namjoon telling him this? The information seems straightforward enough, but Jungkook doesn’t quite understand why Namjoon felt the need to explain it to him. Because even if he does hope—God, does he hope—the idea of actually using the hot springs seems impossible. A line he shouldn’t even think about crossing.

He’s human.

They’re wolves.

Their generosity has already extended far beyond what he could have ever expected. To ask for more, to assume he’d be allowed to share something like this with them, would be selfish.

But then,

A thought creeps into his mind, an ugly, twisting kind of doubt. What if Namjoon had only brought him here to tell him no? What if this was his way of setting another rule, another unspoken boundary? What if he had shown Jungkook the springs just to forbid him from using them?

That would be,

Cruel.

Jungkook clenches his hands at his sides, his chest tightening.

But—no.

No, Namjoon isn’t cruel.

Hoseok and Seokjin had said so, and if there’s one thing Jungkook has learned since arriving here, it’s that the betas don’t lie. They’re kind, they’re warm, and they wouldn’t have spoken so highly of the alpha if he was needlessly harsh.

And maybe, maybe Jungkook is starting to see it too.

Because despite the coldness, despite the distrust still lingering in Namjoon’s eyes, he hasn’t been unkind. Not really. So Jungkook takes a slow, steady breath, trying to push away the anxious thoughts clawing at his mind. For now, he’ll just wait. And maybe Namjoon will let him stay long enough to find out.

Namjoon doesn’t say more.

Maybe, to him, his words had been clear enough, an unspoken permission, a simple statement of fact that required no further clarification. But to Jungkook, it feels like something he shouldn’t take for granted, like something he needs to hear explicitly, spoken just for him.

Because for so long, he’s lived in a world where kindness always came with conditions, where generosity was fleeting and could be taken away at a moment’s notice. And so, despite the nervous tremor in his fingers, despite the way his stomach twists with uncertainty, he gathers his courage and asks the question lingering on the tip of his tongue.

"Am I..." He hesitates for a fraction of a second, fingers curling into the hem of his coat, voice barely above a whisper. "Am I allowed to use them too?"

The question feels heavy in the air, heavier than it should be, like he's asking for something far greater than just the use of the hot springs. And for a moment, Namjoon simply stands there, silent, considering him with an expression Jungkook can’t quite decipher. There’s a flicker of something in the alpha’s sharp eyes—surprise, perhaps? It’s brief, gone almost as quickly as it appeared, replaced by something else, something that makes Jungkook’s heart pound just a little harder in his chest.

Then, finally, Namjoon speaks.

"Yes," he says simply, like it should have been obvious, like the thought of not allowing Jungkook access had never even crossed his mind. "That’s why I showed you."

Jungkook stares at him. His breath catches slightly, something tight settling in his throat.

Yes?

That’s why I showed you?

He wasn’t expecting that. Or maybe he was, deep down, but he hadn’t dared to believe it. He had prepared himself for hesitation, for conditions, for some reminder that he was different—a human among wolves, an outsider in a pack that wasn’t his. He had thought Namjoon might scoff at the idea, might tell him that these springs weren’t for people like him, that they were a privilege reserved for the pack and the pack alone.

But Namjoon doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t make Jungkook beg or prove that he deserves it. He just says yes. Something in Jungkook’s chest loosens at that. Before he can stop himself, before he can shove it back down, the breathless, incredulous word tumbles from his lips.

"Really?"

The moment it escapes, Jungkook freezes. His eyes widen in horror. His hands shoot up, clamping over his mouth as if he can force the word back in, but it’s too late, the damage is already done. Because Namjoon had heard. Namjoon had seen.

Jungkook barely has time to be mortified before something unexpected happens. Namjoon’s lips twitch, just the slightest movement, so small it could almost be missed. But Jungkook sees it.

A smile.

Not big, not obvious, just a ghost of something softer, something lighter, something not cold or distant or guarded.

It lasts barely a second, there and gone so quickly that Jungkook almost thinks he imagined it. But he knows he didn’t, because now his face is burning, heat rushing up his neck, settling into his cheeks, his ears. His stomach twists with something dangerous, something he doesn’t want to name.

He quickly looks away, eyes fixed firmly on the ground, and murmurs a quiet, flustered, "Thank you."

Namjoon doesn’t acknowledge his embarrassment, doesn’t make fun of him for it or even react beyond that brief moment. He simply looks toward the horizon, where the sun is beginning its slow descent, casting long shadows across the earth.

"It’s getting late," he says, voice steady and calm, like nothing at all had happened just moments ago. "But I want to show you one last place."

Jungkook swallows, nodding quickly as he falls into step beside the alpha once more. He doesn’t know where Namjoon is taking him next. But for the first time, as he walks beside him, the weight in his chest doesn’t feel quite so heavy.

And the silence between them doesn’t feel quite so suffocating.

--

Namjoon doesn’t say much as he leads Jungkook along a quiet path, one that gradually inclines, winding its way through the village until the landscape stretches out beneath them. The further they go, the fewer people they see. The sounds of the village, the murmur of conversation, the laughter of children, the rhythmic chopping of wood, fade into a distant hum. All that remains is the crisp winter air and the crunch of Jungkook’s boots against the packed snow.

The walk isn’t easy. Jungkook’s ankle protests with each step, a dull, persistent ache that reminds him he’s still healing. But he doesn’t complain. Not when Namjoon is so quiet, his broad shoulders tense beneath his coat. Not when the alpha glances at him now and then, as if checking to make sure he’s still there. So Jungkook presses forward, ignoring the strain, because something about this moment feels important.

Eventually, they pass through an old iron gate, its frame entwined with dormant vines, brittle from the cold. It doesn’t take long for Jungkook to realize where they are. A cemetery. The realization hits him like a sudden gust of wind, chilling him to his core. His steps falter.

It feels too intimate. Too sacred. Like a place he shouldn’t be, shouldn’t taint as a human. But before he can voice his hesitation, Namjoon turns to him, his expression unreadable but not unkind.

“It’s fine,” the alpha says, his voice softer than Jungkook expects. “I need to show you something.”

Jungkook doesn’t know why his chest feels tight as he nods and follows. The weight of something heavy settles in his stomach as they weave between the headstones. The graves are well-tended to, their markers standing strong against the elements. Someone, perhaps many someones, has taken care of them. They feel loved.

And then they stop.

In front of a particular grave, unlike the others. The stone is black, polished until it gleams even in the dim winter light. Gold lettering is etched into its surface, elegant and striking.

Kim Family
Kim Nam-il, Kim Na-ra
To my beloved parents, may you find peace.

Jungkook reads the names again. Once, twice, and then a third time, his eyes tracing the golden letters with a growing sense of unease.

Kim Nam-il. Kim Na-ra.

The weight of those names presses against his chest, sinking deep into his bones. He doesn’t need Namjoon to say it—he just knows. The realization settles in his stomach like a stone, heavy and unshakable.

Namjoon's parents.

And suddenly, the air feels different, charged with something far more intimate than before. His throat tightens, his fingers curling slightly as he forces himself to breathe through the quiet grief hanging between them.

The weight of that realization settles heavily on Jungkook’s chest, pressing down like an invisible force. He had followed Namjoon here without question, trusting the alpha’s words despite the unease creeping up his spine. But now, standing in front of this grave, he wonders if he was meant to see this, if he is even worthy of being here.

His fingers twitch at his sides, and he swallows thickly. His gaze flickers to Namjoon, searching for a hint of what the alpha might be feeling, but Namjoon’s face is unreadable. Not cold like before, but distant, his crimson eyes locked onto the names in front of them. The silence that stretches between them is thick, heavy with unspoken words and old wounds that Jungkook knows nothing about.

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably on his feet, biting his lip. His ankle is throbbing, but the dull ache is nothing compared to the weight pressing down on his chest. He suddenly feels out of place, like an intruder in a moment too intimate, too sacred. He is human. He doesn’t belong in this world of wolves and blood ties, of grief and memory carved into stone.

“I—” He hesitates, unsure of what to say. Why did Namjoon bring him here?

Before he can voice the question, Namjoon speaks, his voice quieter than usual, but steady.

“They were killed by humans, by hunters.”

Jungkook flinches at the words, at the sheer bluntness of them. He hadn’t expected Namjoon to share something so personal, especially not with him. But the alpha doesn’t look at him—his gaze is still locked onto the grave, his hands tucked into his pockets as if he’s holding himself together.

“I was still young,” Namjoon continues, his tone void of emotion, almost detached. “Too young to do anything. Too weak to protect them.” His jaw clenches, and for a moment, his fingers curl into fists before he forces them to relax. “They died defending the pack. Defending us.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. Sorry feels too small. I understand would be a lie. He doesn’t understand. He has lost people before, but not like this—not in a way that leaves scars so deep they shape the very person you become. He lowers his gaze, his fingers tightening around the fabric of his sleeve.

Namjoon exhales slowly, finally looking at him. “I wasn’t planning on taking you here,” he admits, voice quieter now. “But I figured… if you’re going to stay, you should know.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches. "If you’re going to stay".

The words repeat in his head, looping over and over again. Not ‘if you’re going to leave.’ Not ‘until you heal.’ Namjoon had said stay. As if it was an option. As if it wasn’t a given that Jungkook would eventually leave, whether by choice or by force.

Something in his chest twists, and he doesn’t know what it is. He shifts his weight again, wincing as pain flares through his ankle, but he forces himself to stand taller.

“I…” His voice is barely above a whisper. He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to respond to something so raw. So instead, he looks at the grave again, at the golden words carved so delicately into the stone, and bows his head in quiet respect. If they were anything like Namjoon, they must have been strong.

Fierce. Protective.

And even though Jungkook never knew them, he suddenly feels the urge to whisper, sorry.

A breeze drifts through the cemetery, rustling the trees, and Namjoon doesn’t say anything else. They stand in silence for a while longer, the sun slowly dipping lower on the horizon. And for the first time since Jungkook arrived, the silence between them doesn’t feel heavy.

It feels… understanding.

Namjoon's voice is steady, but there is an underlying weight to his words, something raw and bitter, something time has not softened.

"Humans have brought nothing but pain to us. To my pack. To my family."

Jungkook forces himself to look up, to listen, even as his stomach twists with nausea. Namjoon’s expression is unreadable, but his words cut deep, like blades honed over years of grief and resentment.

"They’ve always been cruel. Bloodthirsty monsters who only bring pain and despair wherever they go."

Jungkook sways slightly where he stands, the weight of Namjoon’s words pressing down on him like an unbearable burden. And then, suddenly, he understands. He understands why the alpha brought him here, why he’s kept his distance, why there has always been a thinly veiled edge of distrust in his gaze.

This—this—is why.

Jungkook’s chest tightens, a sharp, searing ache unfurling beneath his ribs. His eyes burn, but he grits his teeth, staring down at the cold earth beneath his feet. He won’t cry. He doesn’t deserve to cry.

Namjoon had suffered so much. Because of humans. Because of his kind.

The realization makes Jungkook’s stomach churn violently. His fists clench at his sides, nails digging into his palms as he fights the overwhelming surge of guilt, of self-loathing, of helplessness.

He doesn’t belong here. He shouldn’t be here.

His presence feels like an insult, an intrusion upon something sacred. This is the grave of wolves. The grave of people who had been murdered by humans. Killed in front of their small pup.

Jungkook swallows hard, trying to push down the bile rising in his throat. He wants to apologize. God, he wants to apologize. But what good would it do? What would an apology even mean when nothing—not words, not grief, not guilt—could bring them back?

Jungkook doesn’t realize how unsteady he feels until he’s already lowering himself onto his knees, the weight of Namjoon’s words pressing down on him with such force that his legs no longer feel capable of supporting him. His mind is reeling, heart hammering against his ribs as though trying to escape the crushing despair settling over him.

His breathing is uneven, shallow, his lips parted as he stares at the black stone in front of him, the golden engravings glinting softly under the fading sunlight. Kim Nam-il. Kim Na-ra. Namjoon’s parents. People who had lived, loved, laughed—and had their lives cruelly ripped away by humans like him.

He doesn’t know how long he stays like this, his body frozen in place, a lump growing in his throat, thick and suffocating. The implications of Namjoon’s words, the sheer depth of his loss, they settle into Jungkook’s bones like lead. He feels sick. Sick with guilt, with grief that doesn’t belong to him but has somehow wrapped around his heart so tightly that it feels like it might burst.

Humans, his kind, had done this.

They had slaughtered, destroyed, stolen away precious lives, leaving behind only sorrow and unhealed wounds. And they would do it again. They always would.

His hand trembles as he lifts it, hesitant, but the need to offer something—anything—outweighs his fear. His fingertips brush against the smooth, polished surface of the tombstone, and at that moment, it all becomes too real. This is not just a story of the past. This is not some distant history that he can simply acknowledge and move on from.

This is here, now. This is Namjoon, standing beside him, alive and breathing, but carrying wounds so deep they may never heal. His parents, buried beneath cold earth, their voices silenced forever.

A sharp gasp escapes Jungkook before he can stop it, his chest tightening as hot tears spill down his cheeks. He claps a hand over his mouth, as if that alone could stop the overwhelming emotion clawing its way out of him, but it’s useless. The grief is too much. His shoulders shake as sobs rack through him, silent but violent, his fingers curling against the stone as though apologizing, as though begging for forgiveness he knows he does not deserve.

He is human.

And because of that, he will never be able to erase what his kind has done.

Jungkook doesn’t know what compels him to speak. Maybe it’s the unbearable weight in his chest, the way grief and guilt twist together so tightly inside of him that he feels like he might break apart if he doesn’t do something. Maybe it’s the way Namjoon stands beside him, quiet and still, his presence looming yet not oppressive, as if waiting to see what Jungkook will do. Maybe it’s just the simple fact that he needs to say it—needs to give a voice to the emotions that are clawing at his throat, threatening to choke him whole.

His lips part, trembling around a breath he can barely catch. His sobs are quiet, but they make his words stumble, shaky and raw.

“I’m sorry…” The words come out fragile, barely above a whisper, and yet they carry the weight of everything inside of him. His fingers press against the cold tombstone, grounding himself against the smooth, unyielding stone. “I— I’m so sorry,” he chokes, his voice breaking on the last word.

He knows this is foolish. Apologies mean nothing when the damage is already done. No amount of words could ever undo the pain, could ever bring back what had been so cruelly taken. And yet, what else can he do? He is human, he is part of the problem, and even if he himself did not commit the sins of the past, his kind had. His kind had stolen, slaughtered, destroyed. His kind had left Namjoon standing here, orphaned and hardened, with the weight of a history soaked in blood pressing against his shoulders.

“I wish…” Jungkook inhales shakily, but it only makes his sobs worse, his body trembling as he struggles to hold himself together. “I wish things were different. I wish—” His voice breaks again, his throat tight and raw from the force of his emotions. “I wish I could have stopped it. I wish I could have done something—anything.”

But he hadn’t. He had been nothing more than a child when Namjoon’s parents were taken from him. He had not even known this place, had not even been aware of the atrocities committed. But it doesn’t matter. Because he should have known. The world should have never allowed such horrors to happen in the first place.

Tears keep falling, hot and endless, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. And it’s not enough. Just saying it—just whispering apologies into the cold air—it isn’t enough.

So he bows.

Jungkook presses his forehead to the ground, his hands flattening against the dirt as he folds himself down in front of the grave, a silent plea in the way his body curls in on itself. He stays there, trembling, his eyes shut tightly as he silently prays. He doesn’t know to whom he is praying—Namjoon’s parents, the gods, the universe itself. But he prays for their peace, for their rest. He prays that they did not suffer, that they were not afraid, even if he knows that reality is far crueler than that. He prays that somehow, some way, he can make up for it. That he can prove he is not like them.

The sobs fade after a while, though his tears do not stop. His body still shakes, his breathing still uneven, but he no longer makes a sound. He simply stays there, forehead pressed into the ground, hands clenched into fists against the earth.

When he finally lifts his head, his face is wet, cheeks blotchy from the crying. He blinks through his tears and looks up—looks at Namjoon.

The alpha is still standing, his posture as steady as ever, but his expression…

Jungkook’s breath catches.

Namjoon’s crimson eyes glisten in the fading light, a softness in them that had never been there before. He is still guarded but there is something different. Something Jungkook can’t quite name.

And suddenly, it feels like not saying anything would be worse.

Jungkook swallows, his throat tight and sore, his lips parting once more. His voice is soft, but steady this time, and he forces himself to hold Namjoon’s gaze as he whispers,

“I’m so sorry.”

Just three words, simple and small, but they carry everything. Everything Jungkook feels, everything he wants to express but doesn’t know how.

And for once, Namjoon does not look away.

Jungkook stays kneeling for a few moments longer, his body weighed down by exhaustion, grief, and something deeper—something heavier that sits in the pit of his stomach like a stone. His hands are still resting in the dirt, fingers curled slightly, as if he’s afraid to let go. He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for, doesn’t know if the quiet between them is meant to be filled or left untouched. But he knows he can’t bring himself to look at Namjoon anymore.

Not when the alpha’s eyes had been shining with unshed tears.

The realization had made something in Jungkook curl inward, like he was intruding on a moment too personal for him to witness. He hadn’t meant to—hadn’t meant to see the way Namjoon’s jaw had tightened, the way his shoulders had gone rigid, as if he were fighting against the overwhelming tide of emotions threatening to pull him under. Jungkook had looked up at the wrong time, had caught the raw edges of something Namjoon had likely not wanted him to see.

So he lowers his head.

He bows again, but not as deeply this time, his forehead no longer touching the ground. It’s just enough to shift his gaze away, to give Namjoon the space he might need, the privacy to compose himself. Jungkook knows what it’s like to try to swallow down emotions that don’t want to be swallowed. He knows how suffocating it can be when someone sees too much. So he gives Namjoon this moment, lets the silence settle between them like a heavy fog.

His legs ache when he finally moves, protesting against the strain of his kneeling position. He pushes himself up slowly, using his hands to steady himself as he stands. His ankle flares up with pain, a sharp reminder of his earlier injury, but he doesn’t make a sound. His body sways slightly, exhaustion pressing down on him like a heavy weight, but he forces himself to stay upright.

It’s only then, when he’s fully standing, that he realizes how embarrassed he feels.

His outburst—it had been raw, unfiltered. He hadn’t thought, hadn’t held anything back, had just felt everything at once, and let it spill out like an overflowing cup. It had been instinctual, something deep within him compelling him to apologize, to grieve, to pray. And while he doesn’t regret it—because it had felt right in the moment—there’s still a part of him that feels too exposed now, too vulnerable.

His eyes remain fixed on the ground as he mumbles, “Sorry…”

But this time, it’s different.

It’s not an apology for what had happened to Namjoon’s family. It’s an apology for himself—for his reaction, for his inability to keep his emotions in check, for breaking down in front of the alpha in a way he had never planned to. He doesn’t know if it’s something Namjoon would find weak, if it’s something that would only make him seem more fragile in the eyes of the wolves. So he apologizes, hoping to smooth over whatever damage he might have caused.

But Namjoon surprises him.

“Don’t apologize,” the alpha says, his voice thick with emotion.

Jungkook finally looks up.

Namjoon’s eyes are still glassy, but his expression is steady, firm in a way that makes it clear he means what he says. He isn’t dismissing Jungkook’s feelings, isn’t waving them away like they’re insignificant. He’s telling him—genuinely telling him—that he doesn’t need to be sorry. That he doesn’t need to take back what he had done.

And somehow, Jungkook thinks Namjoon knows exactly what he had been apologizing for.

His lips part slightly, his throat tight with emotions he can’t name, but the only thing that comes out is a soft, “Thank you.”

Thank you for not scolding him. Thank you for not pushing him away. Thank you for bringing him here, for trusting him with this piece of himself, for letting Jungkook see him, even if only for a moment. Namjoon nods once, and for the first time since Jungkook had arrived in the village, their eyes meet with no walls between them.

There is no wariness, no distrust, no cold scrutiny.

Just sadness.

And something softer—something quieter.

Gratefulness.

From both of them.

The sky has darkened to deep oranges and soft purples now, the sun nearly disappearing beneath the horizon. The air is cooler, the warmth of the day fading into the first whispers of night. The village below is beginning to light up with lanterns, soft glows flickering between the trees and houses, casting long shadows against the ground. It’s peaceful, in a bittersweet kind of way.

Namjoon is the one to break the silence.

“It’s getting late,” he says, his voice gentler than before. “I’ll bring you back to your room.”

Jungkook nods, saying nothing as he turns to follow the alpha. His steps are slow, his body heavy, but for the first time since arriving here…

He doesn’t feel entirely like an outsider.

--

Jungkook feels numb.

His body is heavy with exhaustion, his limbs sluggish, his mind clouded with too many emotions—some familiar, others foreign, all of them weighing him down like an anchor tied around his chest. The day had been long, filled with moments that had shaken him to his core, emotions that had worn him thin, and truths that had left him raw. Now, as he follows Namjoon back toward the infirmary, he doesn’t even have the energy to process any of it.

He just moves.

One foot in front of the other.

Blindly, instinctively.

At first, he trails behind Namjoon, falling into the habit he’s had since the beginning—keeping his head down, keeping a distance, staying out of the alpha’s space. But then, Namjoon slows his pace, glancing over his shoulder just enough for Jungkook to understand—he’s waiting for him.

Jungkook hesitates.

It’s a small thing. A meaningless thing. But it feels different.

Slowly, hesitantly, he steps forward until he’s walking beside Namjoon instead of behind him. It’s strange, unfamiliar—he’s used to being ignored, dismissed, left to fend for himself at the edges of someone’s presence. But the alpha’s silent acknowledgment feels like something else entirely. He doesn’t say anything about it, doesn’t make a big deal out of it, and somehow that makes it worse because it feels natural in a way Jungkook doesn’t know how to handle.

For the first time today, the silence between them isn’t suffocating.

It isn’t filled with tension, with wary glances, with careful words and cautious steps. It just is. A quiet understanding, a shared exhaustion, a truce that neither of them had spoken aloud but had somehow fallen into anyway.

But Jungkook is so tired.

Physically, emotionally—he’s drained. His leg is throbbing with every step, pain pulsing through his ankle, sharp and relentless. He should have taken the crutches. He knows that now, knows he’s made this harder than it needed to be, but it’s too late for regrets.

And yet, regret is all he feels.

Not just for the crutches.

For everything.

For the way his existence seems to always bring pain, whether to himself or those around him. For the way he can never seem to escape suffering, no matter how much he tries. For the way he’s always pushing forward, always forcing himself to endure, always bearing it because he has no other choice.

He doesn’t even realize how much he’s trembling.

How every step is becoming harder, how the weight in his chest is spreading to his limbs, turning them sluggish, unsteady. The pain is unbearable now, a constant burn that refuses to let up, and yet he keeps going because what else can he do?

He has to.

But then—

His foot catches on something.

Jungkook doesn’t even have the strength to react.

There’s no moment of panic, no desperate flailing to regain balance. He just falls.

His body gives out beneath him, and for a split second, he feels weightless before the earth rushes up to meet him. His hands barely come up in time to catch himself, his knees scraping against the rough ground, his injured ankle twisting painfully beneath him. A sharp, choked sound escapes his lips, more surprise than anything else, but the pain that follows is immediate and unforgiving.

It knocks the breath from his lungs.

Everything hurts.

His ankle feels like it’s on fire, a searing pain that makes his vision blur, but it’s nothing compared to the ache spreading through his chest, the raw, helpless feeling curling in his gut. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even try. He just stays there, on his hands and knees, head hanging low, struggling to breathe.

Why?

Why is it always like this?

Why is he always in pain?

His fingers curl into the dirt beneath him, gripping it tightly as if it’ll somehow ground him, but it doesn’t help. Nothing helps. His body is trembling so violently now, from exhaustion, from pain, from something deeper, something he can’t name.

He wants to get up.

But he can’t.

Almost immediately, Jungkook hears Namjoon’s voice—low, urgent, worried.

“Jungkook!”

The sound barely registers at first, muffled by the ringing in his ears, drowned out by the pounding of his own heart. His body feels disconnected, like he’s floating somewhere just above himself, weightless yet unbearably heavy at the same time.

Then, movement—a presence beside him. A shadow shifting in the dimming light.

Namjoon crouches down next to him, his large frame lowering with practiced ease, his movements careful but quick. Jungkook doesn’t have the strength to lift his head, but he can feel the alpha’s eyes on him, scanning, assessing, filled with something sharp—something he doesn’t recognize.

Concern.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon calls again, firmer this time, and the sound is clearer now, the ringing slowly fading. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because the words get stuck somewhere in his throat, trapped beneath the weight of exhaustion and pain. Namjoon doesn’t wait for a response.

He shifts closer, voice dipping into something softer, more insistent. “Hey, talk to me. Do you feel faint? Are you hurt anywhere? Does your head hurt?”

A pause.

Then—

“Jungkook, look at me.”

Jungkook forces himself to move, forces his arms to support his weight as he lifts his head just enough to meet Namjoon’s gaze. His vision swims for a moment, but then—crimson eyes.  Wide, alert, filled with something raw. Worry.

For him.

Jungkook swallows hard, his throat tight, his pulse stuttering at the sight. He had seen many expressions on the alpha’s face before—wariness, cold indifference, restrained anger. But never this. He doesn’t know what to do with it.

So he does the only thing he can, he lowers his gaze again and murmurs, “Sorry.”

Namjoon exhales sharply, something between exasperation and disbelief. “Jungkook, you don’t have to—” He cuts himself off with a sigh, as if he knows arguing won’t get them anywhere. “What happened?”

Jungkook hesitates, his fingers still curled weakly into the dirt. “My foot,” he finally says, voice barely above a whisper. “It got caught on a root.”

It’s not a lie. But it’s not the full truth, either. Namjoon knows it.

The way his brows pull together, the way his gaze sharpens, the way his jaw tightens—it’s clear that he’s not convinced. He watches Jungkook for a long moment, like he’s trying to decipher something, trying to understand. Then, instead of questioning him further, he simply asks, “Where does it hurt?”

Jungkook hesitates again, his fingers twitching where they rest against the dirt. He knows Namjoon won’t let this go, knows the alpha can probably feel the pain radiating off of him.

Finally, he speaks, voice quiet.

“My leg.”

Namjoon’s expression doesn’t change much, but something in his eyes softens, just barely, just enough for Jungkook to feel it. He doesn’t know why that makes his throat tighten all over again.

Jungkook doesn’t mean to cry. He hates crying.

But the pain is unbearable, a dull, aching fire that spreads from his ankle and coils around his leg, tightening with every shallow breath he takes. He's so tired. He bites down hard on his lower lip, trying to will the tears away, but it’s useless. They slip past his lashes before he can stop them, warm and humiliating against his flushed cheeks.

Namjoon sees them immediately.

Jungkook doesn’t know what he expected—maybe irritation, maybe impatience, maybe that same distant coldness the alpha had worn when they first met. But what he gets is something else entirely.

Namjoon looks at him like he can’t bear it.

Like seeing Jungkook cry physically pains him.

His lips part slightly, brows pulling together, a sharp inhale making his chest rise. His entire body tenses, like he’s restraining himself from acting on something—something instinctive, something immediate.

Then, before Jungkook can even think to wipe his own face, Namjoon is leaning closer.

“Shh,” the alpha soothes, voice low, steady, gentle in a way that makes Jungkook’s breath hitch. “Don’t cry. It’s alright. I’ll make it better.”

Jungkook shakes his head quickly, desperate to regain some semblance of composure. He can’t let the alpha see him like this—weak, fragile, pathetic. He doesn’t want Namjoon to see him as a burden. So he moves, trying to push himself up despite the pain lancing through his leg. His fingers curl against the dirt, his muscles strain, and for a brief moment, he almost manages to rise.

But then—

Warmth.

A firm grip on his shoulders, steady and unmovable.

Jungkook gasps softly as Namjoon’s hands press down, grounding him, keeping him still. He doesn’t use much force, but it’s enough to halt Jungkook’s struggling entirely. The alpha’s voice comes again, deeper now, carrying the weight of an order.

“Don’t.”

Jungkook stiffens. His body wants to obey, but his mind resists, driven by a lifetime of having to rely on himself, of having no one to catch him when he falls. He can’t just sit here. He has to get up, he has to keep moving—

“I have to go back,” he insists, his voice thick with emotion, shaking slightly. “I can make it. I’m—” His throat tightens, his breath hitching as another wave of pain crashes through him. “I’m used to pain.”

Namjoon freezes.

Something flickers across his face—something dark. His brows furrow, his jaw tightens, and for the first time since Jungkook fell, his hands tense where they hold him. Not in anger. Not in frustration.

But in disbelief.

The alpha exhales through his nose, a sharp, controlled breath, as if trying to steady himself. Then,

“Don’t say that.”

It’s not quite a command, but there’s an edge to it. Jungkook blinks up at him, momentarily thrown off by the shift in his tone, but before he can say anything else Namjoon moves. One of his hands lifts from Jungkook’s shoulder, reaching up with surprising gentleness.

Jungkook doesn’t have time to react before warm fingers brush against his cheek.

His breath stutters.

Namjoon’s touch is impossibly soft, his calloused fingertips catching against tear-streaked skin as he carefully wipes away the wetness clinging to Jungkook’s face. He’s focused, deliberate, his expression serious as he smooths away the tears one by one. Jungkook let’s out another sob.

“Shh,” he murmurs again, quieter this time, almost as if speaking to a frightened pup. “Enough of that.”

Jungkook stares at him, wide-eyed, lips parted slightly. He can’t remember the last time someone had wiped his tears away. He can’t remember the last time someone had cared enough to do so.

Namjoon’s fingers linger for a moment longer, the warmth of his skin grounding Jungkook in a way he doesn’t quite understand. Then, as if realizing the intimacy of the gesture, Namjoon pulls back slightly.

But his eyes remain locked onto Jungkook’s.

And for the first time—there’s no wariness. No hesitation.

Just quiet, steady concern.

Jungkook really, really tries to stop crying.

He bites his trembling lip, sniffles softly, and clenches his hands into the fabric of his sleeves, nails digging into his palms in an attempt to will the tears away. He doesn’t want to be seen like this—weak, vulnerable, fragile. But the more he tries to contain it, the more his emotions threaten to spill over, shaking him from the inside out.

So he does the only thing he can think to do.

He looks up at Namjoon, pleading with his eyes, silently begging the alpha to tell him what to do.

Namjoon doesn’t hesitate.

With a quiet breath, the alpha reaches out once more, the pads of his fingers brushing against Jungkook’s damp cheek, sweeping away the fresh tears that had fallen despite his best efforts. It’s such a simple thing—such a small, insignificant gesture. But to Jungkook, it feels like everything.

Then, Namjoon turns away.

Jungkook blinks in confusion, watching as the alpha shifts in place, lowering himself slightly and presenting his broad, sturdy back.

“Hop on,” Namjoon instructs, voice low but firm. “I’ll carry you.”

Jungkook’s breath catches.

For a moment, he doesn’t quite know what to do. Instinct tells him to refuse, to shake his head, to insist that he can walk, that he doesn’t need to be carried. But another part of him, a softer part, hesitates.

He’s so tired.

His body aches, his leg throbs, and his chest feels unbearably tight. For once, he doesn’t want to fight. He doesn’t want to argue, doesn’t want to push himself past his limits just to prove something.

For once, he just wants to listen.

For once, he wants to let someone take care of him.

So, he swallows hard, clenching his jaw as he shifts forward. Carefully, bracing himself for the pain, he lifts his trembling arms and wraps them around Namjoon’s shoulders, pressing his chest against the alpha’s back. His breath hitches as he moves, his injured leg protesting, sending sharp spikes of discomfort through his body.

Namjoon must feel the way he tenses because the alpha’s grip immediately tightens.

“Easy, pup,” he murmurs, voice a steady anchor amidst the pain. “I’ve got you.”

Then—Namjoon stands.

Jungkook gasps softly as strong arms wrap securely around his thighs, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. The sudden movement sends another sharp jolt through his leg, and a quiet whimper slips past his lips before he can stop it.

“Shh,” Namjoon hushes immediately, his grip firm but gentle. “I’m here. I’ll take you home.”

Jungkook exhales shakily, his fingers curling into the front of Namjoon’s shirt, gripping the fabric as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

Safe.

The feeling creeps in before he can stop it, before he can analyze it, before he can remind himself that he shouldn’t feel this way.

Had he ever felt safe before?

Had anyone ever held him like this? Had anyone ever carried him with such quiet, unshakable certainty?

He doesn’t know.

All he knows is that Namjoon is warm.

The alpha’s presence is solid beneath him, his body strong and steady. The deep, rhythmic rise and fall of Namjoon’s breathing lulls him into a quiet daze, the sound of his heartbeat—slow and even—thumping steadily against Jungkook’s ear.

The exhaustion he had been fighting all day begins to creep in, wrapping around him like a heavy blanket.

Namjoon must notice, must feel the way Jungkook sags against him, because his voice comes again—low, soothing.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs. “Rest. I’ll take care of you.”

Jungkook doesn’t fight it.

He presses his cheek against the curve of Namjoon’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut, and lets himself breathe.

Notes:

Omg I swear my heart fluttered writing the end.
There's just something about the Hyungs starting to get protective over him (well we're not really there yet but you get what I mean).
Namjoon is finally coming to his senses ! As he should because Jungkook is just a cutie pie.
Also please don't worry, Yoongi will also see how precious Jungkook is.

Hope you enjoyed !

Chapter 16: Tender Care

Summary:

Just Jin and Kookie being cute together

Jungkook stirs, caught between the last wisps of sleep and the gentle pull of wakefulness. His body feels heavier than usual, wrapped in warmth, cocooned in something soft. But what truly holds him in place is the sensation of fingers carding gently through his hair, slow and deliberate, as if the one touching him is taking their time, savoring the moment. It feels nice—too nice.

A warmth spreads across his chest, unfamiliar yet so comforting that he almost wants to sink deeper into it, to pretend he’s still asleep so that this kindness, this unexpected tenderness, doesn’t slip away too soon.

For a moment, he fears that it’s just a dream. He’s had dreams like this before—fleeting, fragile things that vanish the second he dares to acknowledge them. But there’s something too real about the weight of the hand resting against his temple, the way fingertips ghost over his scalp, soothing and rhythmic. The pressure is real, the warmth is real, the soft rustling of fabric shifting nearby is real.

Jungkook exhales, his lips parting as he decides to take the risk. Slowly, cautiously, he blinks his eyes open. The world is still a little blurry, softened by sleep, but the first thing he sees is a gentle gaze of deep, rich purple looking back at him. Seokjin. 

The older man is sitting beside him, propped up on one elbow, his other hand still threading through Jungkook’s dark locks. There’s a small, amused smile playing at the corners of his lips, the kind that crinkles the edges of his eyes as if he’s looking at something undeniably endearing. His presence is calm, steady, so utterly warm that Jungkook doesn’t immediately feel the need to shrink back or make himself small.

“Good morning, little human,” Seokjin murmurs, his voice carrying the soft lilt of someone who has been awake for a while, someone who has been watching over him. There’s something in his tone—fondness, maybe. Something gentle and unhurried, as if there’s no need for Jungkook to rush, no expectations placed upon him the moment he opens his eyes.

Jungkook blinks up at him, still groggy with sleep, his body sluggish and his mind even slower. His lips part slightly, and before he can stop himself, a small, quiet “Good morning,” slips from his mouth, his voice hushed and breathy from disuse.

Seokjin’s smile softens further, something almost like pride flickering across his face for just a moment before he speaks again, still petting his hair.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, voice quiet, like he doesn’t want to break the peaceful air of the morning.

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. He isn’t used to being asked things like that, isn’t used to someone waiting patiently for his response. But Seokjin doesn’t rush him, doesn’t push—he just watches, fingers never stopping their slow, careful path through Jungkook’s hair.

And for once, Jungkook thinks he can be honest. He lets the remnants of sleep fade as he exhales softly, eyes still heavy but mind slowly catching up to wakefulness. He shifts slightly against the pillows, testing the stiffness in his limbs.

When he glances back at Seokjin, the beta is still looking at him with that same amused fondness, as if watching over him had been his only task for the morning. It’s such a foreign thing—to wake up to someone’s warmth instead of loneliness, to be greeted with soft words and a gentle touch rather than cold silence. It makes something deep inside Jungkook ache, unfamiliar and fragile.

“I slept really well,” he finally answers, voice quiet, almost as if he’s afraid the admission will make it all disappear.

Seokjin’s lips curl up further, pleased, and he hums. “Good. You needed it.”

Jungkook hesitates, then starts to push himself up into a sitting position. He barely makes it halfway before a steady hand presses against his back, supporting him effortlessly. The touch is firm but careful, not rushing him, just making sure he doesn’t struggle more than necessary. He glances at Seokjin, startled, but the beta simply helps him adjust against the pillows, making sure he’s comfortable.

Once Jungkook is settled, Seokjin moves again, lifting his hand and pressing the back of it lightly against Jungkook’s forehead. The action is so casual, so natural, that it takes Jungkook a moment to react. He blinks, confused, unsure of what’s happening, his gaze flickering up to meet Seokjin’s. The beta’s face is calm, assessing, like he’s checking for something important.

Jungkook tilts his head slightly. “Um…?”

Seokjin’s lips twitch, and a soft chuckle escapes him as he pulls his hand back. “Just checking.”

“Checking?” Jungkook repeats, still bewildered.

“I heard you had a rather eventful evening yesterday,” Seokjin says smoothly, amusement dancing in his voice.

And just like that, Jungkook feels his entire face heat up.

He looks away quickly, hands curling into the blanket draped over his lap. “Did… Did Namjoon-ssi tell you?”

Seokjin’s laughter is quiet but unmistakable. “Yes. He told me everything.” Then, with a playful tilt of his head, he adds, “We are mates, after all.”

Jungkook’s breath catches for a second, not at the words themselves but at how easily Seokjin says them. How natural it sounds. Mates. He’s heard the word before, of course, knows what it means in the context of wolves, but having it spoken aloud in relation to Namjoon feels… different. Real.

A sudden weight of guilt presses against his chest. He lowers his gaze, fidgeting with the hem of the blanket. “I… I should apologize.”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For yesterday,” Jungkook mumbles, still not looking up. “For being… difficult. For making things complicated.”

There’s a pause, then the soft sensation of fingers ruffling his hair again, gentle and reassuring. Jungkook glances up just in time to see Seokjin shake his head, his expression patient.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Seokjin tells him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jungkook swallows, unsure how to accept such an easy dismissal of his guilt. But Seokjin doesn’t leave room for argument—he just keeps looking at him with that unwavering certainty, like there’s no possible way Jungkook could be at fault.

Then, Seokjin’s expression shifts slightly, turning more thoughtful. He studies Jungkook for a moment before finally saying, “Namjoon was the one who brought you here last night.”

Jungkook blinks, taken aback.

Seokjin leans back slightly, lips quirking again. “He was a little distraught. It was cute.”

Jungkook’s mouth falls open, his face burning even hotter. “W-What?”

Seokjin grins, clearly enjoying his reaction. “I think he felt responsible for how exhausted you were. He didn’t say much, but it was obvious he was worried.”

Jungkook bites his lip, hands tightening in the blanket. Namjoon had worried about him? Had carried him here himself? He doesn’t know how to process that—not when he’s spent so long being no one’s concern, no one’s priority. But the thought of the alpha looking after him, of the great and intimidating pack alpha being “distraught” over him, sends his heart into a confused, frantic rhythm.

Seokjin watches him for a moment longer before giving his hair one last affectionate pat. “You’ve got people looking out for you now, little human. You should get used to it.”

Jungkook isn’t sure he can. But as he sits there, feeling the lingering warmth of Seokjin’s touch and the weight of his words, he thinks, maybe, just maybe, he wants to.

Seokjin and Jungkook continue their quiet conversation, their voices a soft murmur in the infirmary room. The atmosphere is calm, comforting, something warm settling in Jungkook’s chest as Seokjin talks to him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like Jungkook belongs here, sitting across from him, being fussed over and cared for.

But then, Seokjin tilts his head slightly, eyes flickering toward the door, and says casually, “Namjoon’s coming.”

Jungkook barely has time to process the words before a firm knock echoes through the room. His heart stutters in his chest. His fingers grip the blanket a little tighter, the sudden anticipation making him stiffen.

Seokjin, unbothered, simply turns toward the door. “Come in.”

And sure enough, the door swings open, revealing the unmistakable presence of the pack alpha.

Namjoon steps inside with the kind of quiet authority that demands attention without needing to ask for it. His gaze sweeps the room once before landing on Seokjin. Without hesitation, he crosses the space between them, moving with purpose, his focus entirely on his mate.

Jungkook watches, unsure of what to expect, but the moment is over in seconds. Namjoon reaches Seokjin’s side, leans down, and presses a kiss against his cheek, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you.”

Seokjin’s lips quirk into a knowing smile, but he doesn’t say anything—just accepts the gesture with ease, as if it’s something so deeply ingrained between them that words aren’t necessary.

Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t quite understand. Thank you? For what? The simple intimacy of the moment leaves him feeling like an observer to something private, something he has no place witnessing. But before he can dwell on it too much, Namjoon straightens and turns his attention toward him.

“Jungkook,” the alpha greets, his tone noticeably softer now. “You’re awake. Do you feel better?”

Jungkook forces himself to nod, though his heart is still racing. “Y-Yes. I do.”

Namjoon studies him for a moment, then sighs, the tension in his shoulders shifting. “Good.” But then, much to Jungkook’s surprise, his expression darkens slightly, something regretful settling in his features. “I wanted to apologize.”

Jungkook blinks. “Apologize?”

Namjoon nods, his gaze steady. “As an alpha, I should have made sure you had your crutches with you yesterday. I shouldn’t have let you walk so much on an injury.” His jaw tightens slightly, as if the thought unsettles him. “That was my failure.”

Jungkook’s mind blanks for a second. The pack alpha—this intimidating, powerful man—is apologizing to him? For something that wasn’t even his fault?

The sheer idea flusters him so much that the words leave his lips before he can even think. “No, no! It was my fault!”

Namjoon’s expression shifts slightly at his outburst, brows raising just a fraction.

Jungkook feels himself burn with embarrassment but pushes through, shaking his head quickly. “I… I should have taken my crutches. I should have known better. I made things difficult, I’m so sorry—”

Seokjin sighs beside him, amused, but Jungkook is too panicked to look at him. He keeps his gaze locked on Namjoon, trying desperately to convey how much he means it. He doesn’t want the alpha to think Jungkook blames him for anything. He doesn’t want to be a burden.

Namjoon studies him for a moment longer before something flickers through his expression. Then, in a much gentler voice, he says, “It wasn’t just your responsibility.”

Jungkook swallows hard, heart still hammering in his chest. But Namjoon doesn’t say anything more. He just lets the words settle between them, unwavering. And for the first time, Jungkook wonders if maybe he isn’t meant to carry everything alone.

The alpha shifts his weight slightly, his gaze steady as he regards Jungkook. “Jin told me you were awake,” he explains. “I wanted to check on you. You were in bad shape yesterday.”

Jungkook blinks, processing the words. His fingers unconsciously twist into the blanket draped over his lap. Seokjin told him? But when?

Seokjin had been here the whole time. He had never left Jungkook’s side, not once. Jungkook is sure of it. The warmth of Seokjin’s palm had been constant, his voice soothing as he talked to him. At no point had he gotten up to call Namjoon. So then… how had Namjoon known?

The question lingers on his tongue, confusion stirring in his chest. But before he can voice it, Seokjin speaks, effortlessly redirecting the conversation.

“Your ankle,” Seokjin begins, his voice calm but firm, “hadn’t fully healed yet when you decided to go on your little adventure last night.” He gives Jungkook a pointed look, but there’s no real anger behind it—just the kind of exasperated fondness that reminds Jungkook of an older sibling scolding a reckless younger one. “All that strain you put on it? It aggravated the injury.”

Jungkook swallows, guilt seeping into his stomach. He glances down at his lap, his hands clutching the blanket a little tighter.

Seokjin sighs but softens almost immediately. “It’s nothing serious,” he assures him. “But it was enough to make things really painful for you.”

That, Jungkook can’t deny. He remembers the way his ankle had throbbed with every step, how unbearable it had felt toward the end. The way he had collapsed, too weak to even catch himself. The pain had been excruciating, sharp and relentless, to the point where everything else had blurred around the edges.

Seokjin leans forward slightly, his expression gentle but firm. “For now on, you have to use your crutches, alright?”

Jungkook nods quickly, not even thinking twice about it. “I will hyung,” he says obediently, voice quiet but sure.

Seokjin’s eyes scan his face, as if searching for any sign of resistance. But Jungkook is being completely honest. He won’t be careless again. He doesn’t want to go through that pain a second time—not to mention, he doesn’t want to worry anyone.

Apparently satisfied with his answer, Seokjin’s lips curve into a pleased smile. Then, much to Jungkook’s surprise, he reaches out and pets his hair again.

Jungkook’s breath hitches slightly at the unexpected gesture. The touch is soft, warm, comforting in a way that makes his chest feel strangely tight. He doesn’t pull away.

“You’re a good pup,” Seokjin murmurs, amusement lacing his tone. “Much easier to handle when you listen.”

Jungkook flushes, ducking his head slightly. He can hear the teasing in the beta’s voice, but it’s gentle, affectionate. It makes something unfamiliar stir inside of him, something warm and unfamiliar that he can’t quite name.

From beside them, Namjoon watches silently, his expression unreadable.

The alpha sighs as he straightens, rolling his shoulders slightly before fixing his gaze on Seokjin. “I have to leave for the day,” he announces, his voice steady but tinged with something reluctant.

Seokjin immediately gasps in mock horror, placing a hand on his chest as if he’s been personally offended. “The pack alpha is sooo important,” he drawls, eyes twinkling with mischief. “And where might the mighty Kim Namjoon be off to today? Off to settle disputes? Negotiate treaties? Save a village, perhaps?”

Namjoon exhales a quiet chuckle, shaking his head, but there’s warmth in his expression. He looks at Seokjin with something softer now, something unspoken yet deeply understood. “Something like that,” he murmurs, amusement lacing his tone.

Seokjin grins, clearly pleased with himself for pulling that reaction from his mate. And Jungkook—still sitting there, observing their interaction—feels a small pang of something he can’t quite name. It’s not jealousy, no, but something closer to longing. The ease between them, the way Namjoon’s usual seriousness melts away under Seokjin’s teasing—Jungkook can’t help but wonder what it must be like to have that. To be that for someone.

Namjoon sighs again, as if reluctantly pulling himself away from this small moment of peace. He leans down, pressing a firm but lingering kiss to Seokjin’s cheek. “I’ll see you later,” he says softly, and though the words are simple, they carry a weight that makes Jungkook’s chest feel tight.

Then, to Jungkook’s surprise, Namjoon turns to him. His ceyes meet Jungkook’s for a brief moment, searching, before he inclines his head slightly. “Have a good day, Jungkook.”

Jungkook, momentarily caught off guard, fumbles to respond. “Ah—yes, you too,” he says quickly, feeling a little awkward under Namjoon’s direct attention.

Namjoon doesn’t linger after that. He gives one final glance at Seokjin before stepping out of the room, the door clicking softly behind him.

For a moment, there’s silence. Then Seokjin exhales a small laugh, shaking his head. “That was cute,” he muses, seemingly talking to himself.

Jungkook hesitates before speaking. “He… he really didn’t have to force himself to come check on me.” His voice is quieter now, uncertainty creeping into his words.

Seokjin tilts his head, clearly intrigued. “Force himself?”

Jungkook nods, biting his lower lip before hesitantly continuing. “It’s just… everything really was my fault. He didn’t need to come here and act like it wasn’t.”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “And why exactly was it your fault?”

Jungkook looks down, fiddling with the hem of the blanket draped over his lap. “Because I was the one who chose not to take the crutches,” he admits, voice small.

Seokjin hums thoughtfully. “And why didn’t you take them?”

Jungkook hesitates, but the beta’s gaze is patient, expectant. So, after a deep breath, he finally answers. “Because…” He swallows, feeling a little ridiculous now that he has to put it into words. “Because I didn’t want to abuse the pack’s kindness. Not in front of Namjoon-ssi.”

Seokjin’s eyes soften, but he remains silent, waiting for Jungkook to continue.

“I was worried he’d think I was… I don’t know. Too slow. Too weak. That it would annoy him if I held him back.” Jungkook exhales shakily. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

As soon as he says it, he realizes how stupid it sounds. Looking back, it’s obvious that Namjoon hadn’t been annoyed with him at all. If anything, he had been worried—far more than Jungkook would have expected.

Seokjin clicks his tongue, reaching out to flick Jungkook’s forehead lightly. It’s not enough to hurt, just enough to make him blink up in surprise.

“You really are dense, aren’t you?” Seokjin sighs, but there’s no real irritation in his tone. If anything, he sounds fond. “You wouldn’t be ‘abusing’ our kindness. We offered them to you for a reason. And Joon-ah—” Seokjin shakes his head, as if the very idea is absurd. “Trust me, he wouldn’t be annoyed with you over something like that.”

Jungkook looks away, pressing his lips together. He wants to believe that. But the instinct to be careful, to not ask for too much, is ingrained deeply into him. It’s not so easy to unlearn.

Seokjin sighs again, softer this time. He reaches out, ruffling Jungkook’s hair once more, and Jungkook doesn’t pull away. “You’re not a burden, little human,” he says quietly. “And I think it’s about time you start realizing that.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer, but he feels something settle inside him. A warmth, small but persistent. A part of him still struggles to accept it. 

Jungkook stays silent for a few moments, his fingers absentmindedly twisting the edge of the blanket over his lap. He’s thinking—processing, really—but there’s something tugging at his curiosity, something that doesn’t quite add up. Eventually, he gathers the courage to voice it.

“Seokjin-hyung,” he murmurs, glancing up hesitantly. “Can I ask you something?”

Seokjin perks up instantly, his eyes lighting with amusement. “Oh? You finally have a question for me?” He beams, tilting his head dramatically. “I love answering your cute little questions, Jungkookie. Go ahead, ask away.”

Jungkook huffs, his cheeks warming slightly at being called cute. But he doesn’t let himself get flustered—this is important. “It’s about earlier,” he starts, shifting slightly in bed. “When Namjoon-ssi came in… he said you told him I was awake.” His brows furrow as he continues, voice dipping with confusion. “But you never left the room? How did he know?”

Seokjin’s grin widens, a glint of amusement flashing in his eyes. “Ah. So you did catch that.”

Jungkook blinks. “Of course, I did,” he mumbles, slightly defensive.

Seokjin chuckles, clearly entertained. “I was wondering when you’d ask,” he says, then shifts closer, getting comfortable as if preparing for a story. “It’s simple, really. Shifters have the ability to communicate with each other through thought.”

Jungkook stills. “Through thought?”

Seokjin nods. “Mhm. It’s part of our nature. You see, our kind has always lived in packs. Communication is key for survival, so we developed a way to stay connected no matter where we are.”

Jungkook stares at him, trying to wrap his head around the concept. “So, wait. Does that mean… you were talking to him? In your head?”

Seokjin hums, then tilts his hand in a so-so motion. “It’s not quite like human speech. It’s more instinctive. More… felt than spoken. But yes, I let Joonie know you were awake without ever opening my mouth.”

Jungkook’s mind reels at the revelation. The idea of wolves being able to communicate through thought—it sounds like something straight out of a fantasy novel. “So, all shifters can do this?” he asks.

“To an extent,” Seokjin confirms. “But it depends on how close you are to someone. The stronger the bond, the clearer the communication.”

Jungkook processes that for a moment, then narrows his eyes slightly. “But… you and Namjoon-ssi could talk to each other?”

Seokjin’s expression softens, a quiet kind of pride settling into his features. “Yes,” he says, voice gentler now. “That’s because we’re mates.”

Jungkook’s breath catches slightly. He’s still getting used to the concept of mates—how deep and unshakable the bond is, how it transcends what he understands of love and partnership. Seokjin and Namjoon being able to speak in their minds like that… it feels intimate in a way he hadn’t fully grasped before.

“What about others?” he asks after a pause. 

Seokjin shakes his head. “It’s not really the same. Close friends, packmates—we can sense each other’s emotions, but we can’t really speak like mates can.” He pauses, as if considering something. “It’s like… a wolf in distress might send out a feeling of fear or urgency, and others will pick up on it. But that’s not the same as actual words.”

Jungkook exhales slowly, his fingers still absently fiddling with the blanket. “So… Namjoon-ssi just knew I was awake. Because you told him. In your head.”

“Exactly.”

Jungkook stares down at his lap, absorbing the information. It’s strange—this whole world of shifters is still so unfamiliar, full of things he never would have imagined. But at the same time, there’s something almost… beautiful about it.

Seokjin watches him, then reaches out, ruffling his hair again with a fond smile. “You’re cute when you think so hard,” he teases.

Jungkook huffs but doesn’t protest this time. He’s still too lost in thought, trying to grasp just how deep these bonds between shifters really go.

Jungkook hesitates, biting his lip as he mulls over Seokjin’s words. The idea of Namjoon knowing he was awake before even stepping into the room is still so new to him, so strange, and yet… it makes sense. The pack works in ways he’s still learning to understand. But there’s something else that doesn’t quite sit right with him, something that makes his stomach twist with a mix of nervousness and something he can’t quite name.

“…Why did you tell him?” he asks softly, lifting his gaze to Seokjin. “I mean—why did you let him know I was awake?”

Seokjin doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, his expression shifts, his teasing smile softening into something gentler, something fond. He watches Jungkook for a moment, as if debating how to phrase his next words, then finally, with a slight tilt of his head, he answers.

“Because he asked me to.”

Jungkook stills. “What?”

Seokjin’s eyes twinkle with something amused but warm. “Namjoon told me to let him know the moment you woke up,” he explains, voice light but filled with unmistakable meaning. “He was that worried.”

Jungkook blinks, feeling his throat tighten. “Oh,” he breathes.

Seokjin chuckles, shaking his head as if reminiscing. “He really is something, isn’t he?” he muses. “You should’ve seen him last night. He looked so serious when he brought you in—like the world would end if he didn’t make sure you were okay.” His voice is teasing, but his expression remains gentle. “And this morning? The moment I told him you were awake, he came straight here without a second thought.”

Jungkook swallows. The weight of those words settles in his chest, heavy and unfamiliar. It feels… strange.

It’s not like he doesn’t know what it’s like to be cared for—he’s had people worry about him before. But this is different. It’s not just concern, not just kindness. It’s something deeper. More instinctive. As if Namjoon couldn’t not care, as if it was ingrained in him to look after Jungkook, to make sure he was safe, to check in.

Seokjin watches him carefully, his gaze knowing, and after a moment, he hums. “That’s just how he is,” he says simply. “He cares a lot.”

Jungkook lowers his gaze, his fingers gripping the blanket a little tighter. His heart feels unsteady in his chest, like it doesn’t quite know what to do with this information. Namjoon had asked Seokjin to let him know when Jungkook woke up. He had been that worried. And Jungkook doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge.

Seokjin watches him closely, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “So,” he starts, tilting his head slightly, “do you still think Namjoon is scary?”

Seokjin watches him expectantly, his head tilted slightly as he waits for Jungkook’s answer. And Jungkook, still caught up in his thoughts, takes a few moments before responding.

Did he still think Namjoon was scary?

The question lingers in his mind, and as he turns it over, memories from the past day begin to resurface. The way Namjoon had walked beside him instead of ahead. The way he had shown him the village, explaining everything with quiet patience. The way he had taken him to the cemetery—not to frighten him, not to shame him, but to show him, to explain.

And later… the way he had held him back when he tried to stand, preventing him from hurting himself further. The way he had wiped his tears, quieting his cries with murmured reassurances, treating him so gently that it had stunned him.

No. Jungkook realizes, Namjoon isn’t scary. Not in the way he had first thought.

He lifts his gaze back to Seokjin and shakes his head, a small but certain movement. “No… I don’t think he’s scary anymore.”

At that, Seokjin’s lips stretch into a wide, pleased smile. “Good,” he says warmly. “I’m glad.”

But Jungkook isn’t quite done. He hesitates for only a second before continuing, wanting to explain himself properly. “He’s… he’s not scary anymore,” he says again, carefully choosing his words, “but… he is intimidating.”

Seokjin lets out a soft chuckle, nodding as if he had been expecting that answer. “Most people think that at first,” he admits, still smiling. “He has a strong presence. He’s tall, broad, and his eyes can look pretty fierce when he’s not paying attention.”

Jungkook nods along, because yes—that’s exactly it. Namjoon’s presence alone had been overwhelming at first, heavy and commanding in a way that made Jungkook instinctively tread carefully around him.

“But,” Seokjin continues, voice laced with fondness, “he softens with time.”

Jungkook blinks. “He does?”

Seokjin grins. “Oh, absolutely. You just have to be patient. He’s already softened a little, you know.”

Jungkook parts his lips, startled by the statement. “He has?”

Seokjin gives him a knowing look, tilting his head. “You don’t think so?”

Jungkook falters, suddenly recalling the small but significant moments that had taken place since yesterday. The way Namjoon had carried him back without a word of complaint. The way he had murmured soft reassurances into his ear, holding him close as though he was something precious. The way he had come to check on him the moment he woke up, despite having so many responsibilities.

He had softened. Just a little.

Jungkook glances down at his lap, fiddling with the edge of his blanket. “I… I guess he has.”

Seokjin hums, clearly satisfied. “See? Just give him time. You might be surprised.”

Jungkook doesn’t quite know how to respond to that. But as he sits there, Seokjin’s words replaying in his mind, he can’t help but wonder. How much more will Namjoon soften? And more importantly…

What will that mean for him?

Jungkook looks at Seokjin, his mind whirring with questions, and then he hesitates for just a second before speaking again. "Um, Seokjin-hyung," he begins, voice soft and tentative, "Can I ask one more question?" His eyes are still wide with curiosity, and Seokjin smiles warmly, all too happy to oblige.

"Of course," Seokjin says, his tone light and playful. "You can ask as many questions as you like. I love answering them."

Jungkook feels a slight blush on his cheeks at the older man's enthusiasm, but he pushes it away. His question is on the tip of his tongue, and he's eager to understand. "Well," he starts, feeling a bit sheepish, "how did you know Namjoon-ssi was coming? I didn’t hear his footsteps, and I didn’t… I didn’t even feel him come inside. Did he tell you?"

Seokjin’s eyes brighten at the question, clearly excited by the chance to explain something new. His lips curl into a smile, and he leans a bit closer, as though the answer he's about to give is a special secret. "Ah, that’s because I smelled him," Seokjin says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Jungkook blinks, confusion clouding his features. "Smelled him?" he repeats slowly, unsure if he’s understanding correctly. "What do you mean?"

Seokjin laughs softly at his confusion, but his tone is kind. "Yes, smelled him," he repeats. "Every wolf has a distinct scent, something unique to them. It’s how we can recognize each other, even from a distance."

Jungkook's brow furrows deeper. “Scent?” He looks at Seokjin, puzzled. He’s heard of wolves having heightened senses, but this? This was something else entirely. “So, you... you can smell Namjoon-ssi from far away?”

Seokjin nods, a hint of pride in his expression. "Exactly. Every wolf has scent glands, and these glands release a particular fragrance that’s tied to them. It’s almost like their personal signature. For example, Namjoon’s scent might be a mixture of cedarwood and dark musk, strong and bold, just like him." He pauses and gives a little chuckle. "Not that he’ll admit it, but he has a very distinctive scent."

Jungkook's mind races, trying to picture it. Cedar, Dark musk... he can almost imagine the deep, grounding nature of Namjoon’s scent. It makes sense now, in some strange way. He thinks back to how Namjoon’s presence had always felt a bit overwhelming, but in a comforting way. It was like everything about him had an impact—his voice, his presence, even the very air he breathed. And now, with this explanation, Jungkook realizes it was all tied together in a single, unique scent.

"So... all wolves have this scent?" Jungkook asks, still processing the idea. "But can... can humans smell it too?"

Seokjin shakes his head slightly, a small smile playing at his lips. "No, not exactly. Humans don’t have the same sense of smell as shifters do. You can probably notice it if it’s strong enough, but for us, it’s much clearer. It’s an instinctual thing." He leans back a little, crossing his arms casually. "We’re constantly aware of the scents around us. We know when someone is near, even without looking. And when someone important like Namjoon walks in, we just know it. It’s automatic."

Jungkook tries to wrap his mind around it. It feels almost mystical, like something out of a story. The idea that Seokjin could recognize Namjoon’s scent even before he entered the room—it was fascinating.

"That's... amazing," Jungkook breathes, his voice quiet but full of awe.

Seokjin beams at the compliment. "It’s a bit of a gift," he says with a shrug, as if it’s nothing extraordinary, but his smile suggests otherwise. "Not all wolves have the same strength in their senses, but we all have them. That’s how we find each other, protect each other. It's a part of who we are."

Jungkook nods slowly, his mind spinning. He had never imagined something like this, something so different from his own human experiences. The pack—their world—was full of so many little mysteries, and every answer only led to more questions.

He’s silent for a long moment, reflecting on what Seokjin had just explained, before he speaks up again. “So, if I were to be around you guys for long enough… would I eventually be able to smell it too?”

Seokjin considers the question for a second, his expression thoughtful. "Maybe," he says slowly. "It takes time. For humans, it's a bit more subtle. You’d need to be around wolves enough for it to become noticeable. But yeah, if you stayed long enough, you might start picking it up. You’d recognize the scents of each pack member, even if you didn’t know it consciously."

Jungkook smiles faintly, imagining a world where he could smell the pack as clearly as they could smell each other. It’s a strange thought, but one that suddenly makes him feel a little more connected to them.

Seokjin notices the smile and gives him a small nod, as if pleased with the progress of their conversation. "It's a unique part of our world. And you’re learning, step by step. »

Jungkook's curiosity is insatiable, and as Seokjin finishes explaining the concept of scent, he can’t help but ask, “So… can you tell if someone is an alpha, beta, or omega just by their scent?”

Seokjin’s eyes light up at the question, clearly enjoying the chance to share more knowledge. “Yes, actually,” he says, his voice laced with the familiar warmth that makes every lesson feel less like a lecture and more like a friendly chat. “Each rank in our world has a different scent profile, a way that our biology distinguishes us. It’s one of the most instinctual ways we can recognize each other.” He leans back slightly, crossing his legs comfortably, preparing to dive deeper into his explanation.

Jungkook listens intently, his gaze fixed on Seokjin, eager to absorb every detail. He can’t help but feel a slight thrill at learning more about the wolves around him, especially when it’s something as personal as scent. “So, what do each of them smell like?” he asks, his voice soft with curiosity.

“Well,” Seokjin begins, his tone light and matter-of-fact, “alphas typically have a musky, spicy scent. Something strong, commanding, and hard to miss. It’s almost a dominant scent that makes them stand out in any room. Take Namjoon, for example.” Seokjin pauses, his smile widening just a little as he seems to recall the alpha. “Namjoon’s scent is rich with cedarwood and dark musk. It’s earthy, grounding, with a certain intensity to it that fits his personality perfectly.”

Jungkook imagines the scent, closing his eyes for a moment to picture it. He can almost smell it himself—deep, like the forest, dark and powerful, just like Namjoon’s presence. His heart skips a beat as the thought settles in his mind.

Seokjin continues, not missing a beat. “Yoongi, on the other hand, has a slightly different version of that ‘alpha’ scent. His is more refined, but still just as strong. His scent has a mix of sandalwood and cinnamon. It’s spicy and a little sweet, but still very dominant. You’d never mistake him for anything else. You can feel it when he walks into a room—he carries that aura with him.”

Jungkook nods, his thoughts racing. He can easily imagine both of their scents. Namjoon’s strength, Yoongi’s subtle warmth, both of them unmistakable in their own way. He knows, too, that even if he had never heard of them before, their scents would have made him recognize who they were instantly.

“Then,” Seokjin continues, his eyes glimmering with mischief, “there are betas. Betas like myself don’t have the same intensity in our scents. Ours are softer, more neutral. We tend to have a floral scent, something that’s comforting and fresh.” He gives a small chuckle and gestures to himself. “My scent is jasmine. You can smell it easily, it’s light and airy, with a touch of sweetness, but it’s not overpowering. It’s subtle but pleasant. Like a soft breeze on a warm day.” He pauses for a moment before adding with a teasing grin, “Obviously, my jasmine scent is the best.”

Jungkook blinks in surprise, the soft teasing in Seokjin’s voice making him smile in return. It’s a playful tone, one that makes him feel more at ease, and he laughs softly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “I’m sure it is,” he replies, feeling the warmth of Seokjin’s lightheartedness.

Seokjin chuckles softly, noticing Jungkook’s curiosity. "Oh, and Hoseok," he continues with a fond smile, "his scent is lilac. It's a gentle, soothing floral aroma, like spring mornings with the sun just beginning to warm the earth. It’s soft and fresh, and it has this comforting feeling, like everything will be okay. Hoseok’s scent is like a hug, one that makes you feel calm and safe." Seokjin’s eyes glimmer as he speaks, clearly admiring the younger’s light, easygoing presence. "It’s very distinct, and it always brightens the air around him. »

But Seokjin’s grin widens as he leans forward just a little, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “And then,” he says, “there are the omegas. Their scents are usually fruity. Very sweet, very distinct. Like our youngest mates.” He tilts his head thoughtfully, as if recalling the scents of the omegas in the pack. “Taehyungie, for instance, smells like raspberries. Very sweet, almost tangy, and fresh. It’s like walking into a summer garden, all vibrant and playful.”

Jungkook’s heart flutters, he can almost imagine the scent, as if it could pull him into a world of warmth and comfort.

Seokjin’s eyes soften, and a fondness fills his expression. “Minnie smells like cherries. Sweet, a little tart, but incredibly soft. It’s a scent that makes you think of childhood memories, of the warm days when everything felt perfect and you were surrounded by love.” He pauses for a second, his smile full of affection. “Very sweet, but also a little mischievous.”

Jungkook grins, feeling an odd sense of belonging as he thinks about his packmates. He can imagine it now—the scents, the unique signatures each member carries with them. It’s almost like he’s learning a new language, one that transcends words and speaks directly to the senses.

“But… what about me?” Jungkook asks hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper. He’s suddenly nervous, wondering if he has a scent like the others. He doesn’t want to be the odd one out. “Do I smell… like anything?”

Seokjin’s tone shifts slightly as he continues, a hint of seriousness now in his words. “You know, humans usually smell... well, greasy. Stale, even. Kind of like dust. It’s not that it’s disgusting, but it’s definitely not pleasant. To wolves, it’s just... different. You don’t have the same kinds of scents we do.” He gives a small shrug, as though it’s just a natural fact. “It’s all part of biology, I guess. Wolves and humans, we’re not supposed to cross paths that often. It’s just how we’re made.”

Jungkook’s expression shift from curiosity to uncertainty, his face flushes with worry, his gaze downcast as a sense of self-consciousness begins to take hold. "Wait—does that mean I smell bad?" his voice is small, barely above a whisper, heart sinking at the thought that he might have been stinking up the pack without even realizing it.

Seokjin bursts out laughing, a warm, reassuring sound that fills the room, and Jungkook’s anxiety flickers for a moment. "No, no," Seokjin chuckles, shaking his head with a playful smile. "It’s nothing like that." He leans forward, his eyes twinkling with a hint of fondness, like he’s sharing a special secret. "You’re... different. You don’t smell like the others. Not like humans at all. It’s like... you have a human scent, yes, but it’s not like the others we have encountered."

Jungkook tilts his head in confusion, but Seokjin continues, voice softening. "It’s part of the reason why Namjoon and Yoongi found you so easily that day. You didn’t smell like a typical human, and they could tell. They followed your scent in the air to where you were hurt. They could even smell the pain on you, but more than that, they could sense something about you. Something that made them come for you. You don't smell bad, Jungkook. You... you’re different. "

The words settle in Jungkook’s chest, and his nervousness fades slowly, replaced by an unfamiliar warmth. Seokjin’s reassurance brings comfort, like a balm for the unease that had gathered inside him. Still, Jungkook can’t help but feel a little odd about it all—the idea that he doesn’t quite smell like everyone else, that his scent, somehow, was what led them to him.

Jungkook watches Seokjin closely as he speaks, his brow furrowing slightly, trying to absorb the explanation. “But what do I smell like then?” Jungkook asks again, his voice quieter now. “What’s my scent like?”

Seokjin's smile softens as he meets Jungkook’s gaze, an affectionate warmth in his eyes. “Well, you,” he says slowly, his voice a little more serious now, as though giving a detailed description of something truly unique. “You smell... like vanilla and honey. Very sweet, youthful. A scent that makes you want to protect, almost. It's... really distinct. Not something a wolf would have naturally.” He chuckles a little at the end of his sentence, as if the oddity of the description is amusing to him.

Jungkook feels his heart skip a beat. Vanilla and honey? He doesn’t quite know what to make of that. His cheeks heat up as he shifts uneasily on the bed. “Is... is that a bad smell?” He asks, voice tinged with self-consciousness. His fingers instinctively tug at the edge of the blanket, unable to help himself from worrying.

Seokjin, noticing the sudden shift in Jungkook's demeanor, reaches over and gently ruffles his hair, a tender gesture that instantly puts Jungkook at ease. “No, no,” Seokjin reassures him quickly, his voice light and playful. “It’s a really good scent, actually. Very nice, and strong. It’s just... different. It’s a bit sweeter than what we usually smell from wolves, especially from an omega. But it’s not unpleasant at all. Quite the opposite. You smell... inviting.” Seokjin leans in a little, his smile growing warmer. “Really, it’s a very good scent. A very unique one. And one that’s strong... There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Jungkook looks up, trying to process the reassurance. Seokjin’s words make something inside him relax. But still, his mind lingers on the idea that his scent is so different from the rest of the pack. "So... I don't smell like an omega or a beta?" He asks, voice small but curious.

Seokjin hums, considering his words carefully. “Not exactly,” he says. “You don’t have the typical fruity scent of an omega, or the flowery fragrance of a beta. Your scent is more... pure in a way, if that makes sense? It’s sweet, but not in the same way a wolf would smell sweet. It’s something distinct, something only you have. It’s special.”

Jungkook thinks about this for a moment, his chest feeling lighter. The anxiety about his scent begins to melt away, replaced with a quiet, humble feeling of being accepted for who he is.

But then Seokjin leans in closer, his eyes twinkling mischievously. He winks, a playful glint in his gaze, and Jungkook is caught off guard by the sudden tease. “Oh, and one last thing,” Seokjin adds, his tone turning teasing. “You smell even sweeter when you’re asleep. Like desert”

Jungkook’s cheeks burn with embarrassment at the remark. He stares at Seokjin for a moment, unable to decide whether to laugh or shrink away from the attention. “W-What?” he stammers out, his heart racing at the thought. He’s never been the kind of person to be complimented on his scent—let alone teased about it in such a tender way.

Seokjin simply chuckles, reaching out again to ruffle Jungkook's hair affectionately. “It’s just a little observation,” he teases, giving him a smile that’s soft and genuine. “But don’t worry, you smell good, Jungkook. Really good.”

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, unsure of how to react to the warmth that Seokjin’s words leave behind. He can’t help but feel a little flustered, but there's a softness that lingers in the air—a sense of comfort that assures him, for the first time in a long while, that perhaps this strange new world isn’t so bad after all.

Seokjin hums, stretching his arms above his head as he prepares to leave. “Well, that’s my cue to go. Halmeoni needs help in the kitchens, and I’m the unlucky beta assigned to her today.” He pouts playfully, but there’s obvious fondness in his voice. “It’s going to be a long day of chopping vegetables and making sure she doesn’t get too grumpy when someone inevitably messes up her recipes.”

Jungkook nods, absorbing the information. He still knows so little about the inner workings of the pack, but every new thing he learns makes it feel a little less foreign. A little less like a place he doesn’t belong.

Seokjin suddenly claps his hands together, straightening. “Anyway! Since I’ll be stuck in the kitchens all day, and everyone else is busy, that means you get to rest, little human.” He pokes Jungkook’s forehead gently. “Doctor’s orders.”

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably at that, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He knows Seokjin means well, but the idea of staying in bed all day, doing nothing, doesn’t sit right with him. Not after everything. Now that he’s seen the village, now that he knows what’s out there, he doesn’t want to stay cooped up in a room again.

Hesitantly, he glances at Seokjin. “Um…, hyung?”

Seokjin pauses, raising an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

Jungkook fidgets slightly, gripping the blanket in his lap. “Would it be… okay if I went outside today? I promise I’ll use the crutches.”

Seokjin blinks. His expression shifts, considering, and Jungkook can practically see the gears turning in his head. For a moment, the beta doesn’t say anything.

Jungkook swallows. “I just… I want to see more of the village,” he explains, voice quiet but firm. “Yesterday, Namjoon-ssi showed me around, but there was so much, and I barely got to see everything. I don’t want to just stay in here all day when I could be—” He hesitates, then looks down. “I just don’t want to feel… useless.”

Seokjin’s face softens instantly. “Oh, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook grips the blanket tighter. “I know I’m still healing, but I don’t want to just lie here doing nothing. I’ll be careful, I promise. I won’t go too far, and I’ll take my time.” He looks up, meeting Seokjin’s gaze. “Please?”

Seokjin sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “You really are something, huh?”

Jungkook stays silent, heart beating a little faster as he watches the older man think it over. Then, suddenly, Seokjin’s expression shifts. His lips curl into something knowing, and Jungkook doesn’t have time to react before—

“Oh, Joonie said yes.”

Seokjin’s words take a moment to fully sink in. Jungkook stares at him, still gripping the blanket draped over his lap, his mind stumbling over the casual way the beta just said it. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like it wasn’t completely strange and overwhelming to hear.

Jungkook blinks. Once. Twice. Then, carefully, he asks, “You mean… you just asked him?” His voice comes out small, disbelieving. “Like… in your head?”

Seokjin’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he nods. “Mhm. We do it all the time. It’s easier than running halfway across the village just to ask a simple question.”

Jungkook's fingers curl against the blanket, absorbing this new piece of information. When Namjoon showed up after Seokjin had supposedly told him he was awake, that’s because Seokjin had also done that. But still… the idea that Seokjin could just talk to someone without ever saying a word—it sends a strange shiver down Jungkook’s spine.

“You mean… you can hear everything Namjoon-ssi thinks?” he asks hesitantly, brows drawing together. The thought of someone being able to listen in on his mind, hearing every little thing he thought—it makes his stomach twist.

Seokjin barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, no! Thank the moon for that, because I think I’d lose my mind if I had to listen to Joonie’s serious, overthinking thoughts all day.” He grins.

That makes sense. Sort of. Jungkook still can’t fully wrap his head around it, but he understands the general idea. He hesitates for a moment before asking, “So… does that mean Namjoon-ssi can talk to me? In my head?”

Seokjin’s grin stretches even wider, a mischievous glint sparking in his violet eyes. “Why, Jungkookie… are you hoping he will?”

Jungkook feels the heat rush to his face instantly. “N-No! That’s not what I— I was just asking!” he sputters, eyes wide.

Seokjin throws his head back in laughter, clearly delighted by his reaction. “Relax, sweetheart. No, he can’t and neither can I. You’re not a wolf, so you don’t have the same bond. He might be able to sense your emotions if you’re close enough, but thoughts? No.” Then, with a teasing lilt, he adds, “Not unless you somehow become his mate.”

Jungkook chokes. “That’s—! I—!”

Seokjin cackles, giving his hair a rough ruffle before finally stepping away. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop teasing you. I’m just joking. You look cute when you’re flustered.” He smooths down his tunic with a dramatic sigh. “But, as much as I would love to stay and keep my cute little patient company, I do have kitchen duty today. Which means I have to leave you in the capable hands of the village. Try not to get into trouble, yeah?”

Jungkook nods meekly, still too flustered to form a proper response. But as Seokjin turns to go, something inside him tugs. He hesitates only for a moment before speaking.

“Seokjin-hyung?”

The beta pauses, turning back with a raised brow. “Hmm?”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, hesitating. Then, softer, more timidly, he says, “...Thank you. For taking care of me.”

For a moment, Seokjin doesn’t say anything. His expression shifts, losing its teasing edge, something warmer settling in its place. Then, gently, he steps forward and ruffles Jungkook’s hair one last time—softer this time, careful.

“You’re part of the pack now, Jungkookie,” he murmurs. “We take care of our own.”

And then he’s gone

Notes:

Hello!

Sorry for the late update! I’m still sick, and somehow, I ended up waking up at 3:30 PM today—I have no idea how that happened. For a moment, I couldn’t even remember where I was. 😅

Also, I couldn’t make it to my friend’s birthday in the end. A two-hour train ride to another city was just not happening… (Well, also because I woke up an hour after my train was supposed to leave. Oops.)

I live for the cute interactions between Jin and Jungkook—honestly, any cute moment melts me. And we’re getting closer to Yoongi’s turn! I can’t wait!

Hope you enjoyed the update! Take care of yourselves and don’t end up sick like me. ^-^

Chapter 17: Wandering Steps

Summary:

Jungkook's cute little day of wandering through the village

The morning air is crisp against Jungkook’s skin, cold but not unpleasant. A soft layer of snowflakes drifts from the pale sky, swirling gently in the sunlight. Wrapped in one of Seokjin’s thick woolen scarves, Jungkook steps out of the infirmary, gripping his crutches with determined fingers. The village sprawls before him, quiet and alive all at once, the distant hum of voices blending with the rustling trees. He hasn’t seen much of it yet, not properly, and now that he has permission to explore, his curiosity outweighs his hesitations.

His breath comes out in soft puffs as he moves carefully over the snow-packed ground. The familiar pathways he’s taken before stretch out before him, but today, he chooses a different direction, a narrow path winding between wooden cottages and frost-covered trees. It’s peaceful, lined with lanterns dusted in white, the footprints of villagers marking the path. He follows it, guided by instinct more than anything, his heart light despite the dull ache in his leg.

Then, faintly, he hears it—laughter, the high-pitched squeals of children playing, their voices carried by the wind. Jungkook slows, adjusting his crutches as he moves toward the sound. As he rounds the bend, the view opens up before him—a small clearing with a makeshift playground, a wide stretch of packed snow where pups tumble and chase one another, their giggles filling the air.

And among them—Hoseok.

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard by the sight of the beta crouched low, arms outstretched, his face alight with joy as he chases a group of pups darting around him. He looks warm despite the cold, his hair bouncing with every movement, his laughter infectious. The children squeal as he lunges, scooping one into his arms and spinning them effortlessly before setting them down in the snow. More pups swarm him, tugging at his clothes, climbing onto his back, and Hoseok only laughs harder.

And then there’s Yoongi.

Jungkook wasn’t expecting to see him. The alpha, usually so composed, so quiet and unreadable, is in the middle of the chaos. He’s not just watching, he’s playing. A rare, genuine smile tugs at Yoongi’s lips as he dodges a pup trying to tackle him, his movements effortless, fluid. He lets one of the younger ones latch onto his arm, feigning defeat as he falls onto his knees in the snow, groaning dramatically. The pups shriek in delight, piling onto him, and Yoongi huffs out a laugh, ruffling their hair as they claim their victory.

Jungkook stops in his tracks, watching in quiet amazement.

He hadn’t thought he would ever see Yoongi like this. Not the sharp-eyed, intense alpha who had always looked so intimidating. And yet, here he is—lighthearted, playful, allowing tiny hands to pull at his clothes and bury him in the snow. There’s something soft in his expression, something warm that Jungkook hadn’t thought existed in him.

For a moment, Jungkook just stands there, taking it all in, feeling as though he’s stumbled upon something he wasn’t meant to see. He doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until Yoongi’s gaze lands on him.

Sharp eyes meet his own from across the snowy clearing, locking onto him with an intensity that sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine. His first thought is 'he smelled me coming'. Seokjin had explained it earlier—how wolves could recognize each other by scent, how their sharp noses could pick up even the faintest traces in the air. And Jungkook—different as he was—still had a scent distinct enough for Yoongi to notice before even laying eyes on him.

His second thought is 'is he annoyed?'.

It wouldn’t be surprising. The last words Yoongi had spoken to him were a simple, clipped “Good.” That was after Jungkook had told him he would leave. Now, standing here with nothing but crutches keeping him upright, Jungkook wonders if the alpha sees him as a burden—an unwanted human straying too close to a world that isn’t his.

He can’t hold Yoongi’s gaze for long. It’s too much, too piercing, and Jungkook finds himself glancing away, heart thudding uncomfortably in his chest.

But then the pups notice him.

Their chatter, their giggles, their shrill excitement fills the air as they spot the familiar figure at the edge of their playground. Tiny faces turn toward him, wide eyes filled with curiosity, and then—just like that—they swarm him.

Jungkook barely has time to brace himself before they rush forward, small hands tugging at his coat, at his sleeves, at the crutches tucked under his arms.

“Do you want to see us shift again?”
“Are you coming to see us?”
“Why are you here?”
“What’s this?”

A tiny hand touches the crutch under his arm, small fingers running over the smooth wood with fascination. Another pup tugs at his sleeve, eyes round with concern.

“Are you hurt?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to answer, but more voices chime in before he can get a word out.

“Did you fall?”
“Did a bad wolf get you?”
“Did Yoongi-Hyung fight them for you?”

The flood of questions is overwhelming, their voices overlapping, tiny hands reaching for him as if to check for more injuries. Jungkook blinks down at them, startled, unused to this kind of attention. Their warmth, their concern—it catches him off guard. He had spent so much time thinking of wolves as powerful and untouchable creatures that it hadn’t occurred to him that the younger ones would just be children.

Jungkook shifts on his feet, gripping the crutches a little tighter. He feels awkward, unsteady—not just physically, but emotionally too. It’s strange to be fretted over, to have so many little eyes looking up at him with genuine concern. He isn’t used to this.

A tiny hand tugs at his coat again, insistent.

“Did it hurt?”

Jungkook swallows, then finally finds his voice.

"A little," he admits, trying for a small smile.

A chorus of gasps follows. One of the pups immediately turns and bolts back toward the playground, waving tiny arms as they yell—

“Hoseoook-hyuuuung! He’s huuuurt!”

A warm laugh cuts through the cold air, lighthearted but firm.

"Alright, alright, little troublemakers, give him some space, yeah?"

Hoseok’s voice is gentle yet commanding, the kind of voice that demands obedience without ever sounding harsh. He approaches the group with a practiced ease, his smile bright and reassuring as he kneels beside the pups, ruffling the hair of the one who had called for him so dramatically. The pup beams up at him, but the others remain focused on Jungkook, eyes wide and filled with concern.

"You guys have to be careful," Hoseok continues. "Jungkook-ah hurt his leg, but he’s getting better. That’s why he needs these crutches for a little while, so he can heal properly."

The pups nod as if they’ve just been told the most serious news of their young lives. Their little faces scrunch with determination, and the way they look at Jungkook shifts. Where before their curiosity had been overwhelming—small hands tugging, voices overlapping, fingers poking at his crutches—now, their touches are featherlight, barely-there brushes against his coat and the fabric of his pants. Tiny fingers caress his leg with a softness that tugs at something deep inside him.

Jungkook swallows, warmth blooming in his chest.

These pups—these little wolves, so different from him—are being gentle with him.

He hadn’t realized how much that would mean to him.

One of the smallest pups, a little girl with messy dark curls, reaches up with both hands and clutches the sleeve of his coat. Her fingers are so tiny, gripping the fabric as she leans in and whispers, “Does it still hurt?”

Jungkook blinks down at her, startled by the quiet sincerity in her voice. He feels his throat tighten, and without thinking, he shifts his weight onto his good leg, carefully discarding one of his crutches. He needs a free hand—needs to do something with this sudden burst of affection swelling inside him.

Slowly, carefully, he reaches out and pats the pup’s head.

She gasps, eyes going round as saucers before she absolutely melts under the touch, nuzzling into his palm like a kitten. The other pups, seeing this, immediately crowd closer, their little heads tilting expectantly. Jungkook chuckles, unable to help himself, and one by one, he carefully ruffles their hair, smoothing down unruly curls, patting soft scalps, fingers brushing against tiny ears hidden beneath fluffy hoods and knit hats.

The effect is immediate.

The pups beam.

Some let out excited little giggles, others sway happily under the attention. The warmth of their joy is infectious, and Jungkook finds himself grinning despite himself, despite the unfamiliarity of it all. He hadn’t expected to be welcomed like this—not by the children of a pack that should have seen him as other, as outsider.

He almost forgets the piercing blue eyes watching him.

Almost.

But then he feels it—the weight of a gaze that hasn’t wavered since the moment he stepped foot into the playground. And when he finally looks up, he finds Yoongi closer than before, his expression unreadable.

The alpha hasn’t spoken. He hasn’t interrupted. He hasn’t even moved to join them.

But he’s watching.

His sharp eyes are locked onto Jungkook, unwavering, like he’s studying something he can’t quite figure out.

"Jungkook-hyung, you have to stay!"

The sudden chorus of little voices makes Jungkook blink in surprise. He barely has time to react before a pair of tiny hands grab at his coat, tugging insistently. Another pup clutches his sleeve, eyes round with excitement.

"Yoongi-hyung was about to play the guitar for us!" one of the older pups announces proudly, looking up at Jungkook as if that information alone should convince him to stay.

"You have to listen too!" another pup chimes in, bouncing on their feet.

Jungkook’s lips part slightly. Yoongi? Playing the guitar?

For a moment, his mind struggles to connect the image. The Yoongi he knows—the Yoongi he’s met so far—is quiet and distant, all sharp eyes and reserved words. The only emotions he’d seen from the alpha had been irritation and annoyance. He's not the type of person Jungkook would have imagined strumming an instrument for a group of pups in the snow.

And yet, the way they talk about it—so eager, so certain—makes Jungkook curious.

Of course, Yoongi had already heard them, even before the pups called his name so loudly. Jungkook dares to be bold. He shifts slightly, pressing more weight onto his good leg as he lifts his gaze toward the quiet figure still standing nearby.

Yoongi is watching.

Jungkook’s stomach twists. He’s not sure what pushes him forward, but before he can second-guess himself, he looks. Really looks.

There’s something in Yoongi’s expression, something lingering beneath the surface of his piercing gaze. His eyes seem to study Jungkook just as intensely as before, like he’s still trying to make sense of him, still trying to decide what to do with him.

Jungkook could look away. He should look away. But he doesn’t. Instead, he meets Yoongi’s gaze head-on. Something hesitant, something quiet and unspoken, flickers in his chest. It’s not quite desperation, not quite a plea—but something close. A silent request.

Let me stay.

He wants to spend more time with the pups, wants to stay in their little bubble of warmth and excitement. He wants to stay with Hoseok, who has only been kind to him. And—if he’s being honest with himself—he wants to stay with Yoongi too.

Even if Yoongi doesn’t like him.

Even if Yoongi doesn’t want him here.

He wants Yoongi to tolerate him.

For a long, stretching second, they just stare at each other. Neither looking away. Neither breaking the moment.

Then—finally, slowly—Yoongi gives the smallest nod.

It’s subtle. Barely there. His gaze doesn’t waver, doesn’t soften. But it’s permission. And Jungkook tries to hide his smile, really, he does.

But he can’t.

It creeps up anyway, bright and warm, as the pups erupt into cheers, pulling at his coat and telling him to 'come sit, come listen!'. They rush ahead, leading him toward a thickly layered blanket spread out over the snow, already marked with tiny footprints and small handprints.

Jungkook follows, crutch under his arm, pulse thrumming just a little faster than before. As soon as he settles on the blanket, Hoseok is already fussing.

"Here—" the beta hums, draping a thick, woolen blanket over Jungkook’s shoulders. Jungkook startles slightly, looking up as Hoseok tucks it in more securely around him, smoothing the edges with warm, practiced hands.

"You need to stay warm," Hoseok insists, tone light but firm. "Shifters have higher body temperatures, remember? You don’t. It wouldn’t do for you to freeze out here."

Jungkook blinks, lips parting slightly. It’s such a simple gesture. Such a small thing. And yet, warmth flutters in his chest—different from the heat of the blanket, something softer, something thinner that he’s not used to feeling.

Care.

Hoseok barely even knows him, and yet he’s looking out for him, worrying about him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Jungkook swallows, fingers curling into the blanket’s thick fabric.

"T-Thank you," he murmurs, unsure if the words are enough.

Hoseok just beams at him, clearly pleased, before shifting to make space as the pups swarm closer, little bodies pressing in on all sides. They jostle for position, some curling against Jungkook’s side, others settling by his legs, their tiny fingers clutching at his coat.

It’s overwhelming.

It’s comforting.

Jungkook can’t help but let out a quiet laugh, adjusting the blanket so that it covers the nearest pup too, and the little girl looks up at him with wide, delighted eyes.

Hoseok finally settles down beside them, his presence warm and steady. Meanwhile, Yoongi has moved toward a wooden bench off to the side, where a worn leather case rests. He kneels down, undoing the clasps with quiet efficiency, and when his hands lift again, a sleek wooden guitar gleams in the light.

Something in Jungkook stirs. Excitement flickers in his stomach, quick and unshaken.

"You’re really good, right, hyung?" one of the pups chirps, practically bouncing.

"He’s really good," another pup agrees, nodding sagely.

Yoongi huffs a small breath, shaking his head but not denying it. Jungkook watches, eyes tracing the way Yoongi holds the instrument, fingers already settling over the strings with natural ease.

He doesn’t even realize he’s leaning forward slightly until he speaks.

"I’ve never heard anyone play before," he admits, voice quiet with something close to awe.

Yoongi pauses.

Jungkook barely notices, too wrapped up in the bubbling excitement inside him.

"Music was… a luxury in my village," he explains, tucking the blanket closer around himself. "It was only played on special occasions. And even then, most of the time, I wasn’t invited. So I don’t… I don’t know what a guitar sounds like. I’ve never heard one before."

It’s only when silence follows his words that Jungkook realizes something is off.

He glances up—

And finds Yoongi staring at him. Utterly still. Utterly surprised.

Jungkook’s breath catches, caught beneath the weight of those sharp eyes. Yoongi’s voice is quiet, but his words sink deep into Jungkook’s chest, stirring something he hadn’t expected.

"I’ll make it a memorable experience then."

The promise lingers in the air, almost like a challenge, and Jungkook’s heart gives a soft flutter, an unfamiliar excitement filling him. He doesn’t fully understand the weight of Yoongi’s words, but something in the way he says them, soft yet sure, gives Jungkook a sense of anticipation he can’t shake off.

Yoongi positions his fingers over the strings, adjusting the guitar in his lap. With one final glance toward Jungkook, who’s holding his breath, Yoongi strums the first note. It’s smooth, low, and rich, the sound floating on the cold air like a delicate thread tying them all together.

Jungkook can’t help but lean forward slightly, captivated by the sound. His eyes remain locked on Yoongi’s hands, watching as the alpha’s long fingers move gracefully, pressing down on the strings, creating melody after melody.

He plays a playful tune first—light and whimsical, and Jungkook feels it tugging at something inside him. He hadn’t known that music could feel like this. It’s not just a sound—it’s a feeling that settles into his bones, warm and inviting. The pups giggle and wiggle around, bouncing to the beat, their energy infectious. Hoseok smiles, his eyes soft, watching as the pups enjoy the music.

But Jungkook? He’s mesmerized. Every note, every chord, carries a different emotion, and Jungkook can feel them in his chest, in his stomach, in his very bones.

Yoongi’s fingers slide effortlessly over the strings, switching between different tempos, different styles. One moment the music is full of joy, fast and bright, making the pups clap and laugh in delight. The next, it’s slow and languid, like a breeze on a summer evening, settling into a soft, peaceful quiet. Jungkook finds himself lost in the rhythm, his mind wandering with each song, feeling each note, every shift in tone.

But it’s the last song that changes everything for him.

Yoongi’s fingers fall into a melancholic melody, soft and slow, each note like a drop of rain falling on a silent, still lake. It’s slow at first, and Jungkook can feel the sadness in the strings, a deep ache that settles in his chest. The music pulls him into a place he’s never been before, a place where emotions aren’t just something he thinks about but something he feels in his body, all-consuming.

The song grows more intense, building a weight in the air, a heaviness that presses down on his shoulders. It’s as if Yoongi’s guitar is telling a story without words, speaking to him in a language that doesn’t need to be understood. It’s the kind of music that feels like it’s meant for him, for this moment, and suddenly, the tears are there, unbidden.

Jungkook’s breath hitches, and before he can stop it, a tear slides down his cheek. He doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t move, but the tears keep coming, one after another. They streak down his face, silent and steady, each one carrying away a piece of something he didn’t even know he was holding on to. It’s a feeling he can’t explain, a combination of sorrow and hope, pain and release, all tangled together in the rawness of the music.

He doesn’t wipe them away.

He lets them fall, letting the melody flow over him, filling him with a sense of something bigger than himself. It’s like he’s been waiting for this moment, waiting to feel the things he didn’t know were inside of him. The pups have quieted down, all of them sitting in rapt attention as Yoongi plays, their small hands still, their eyes wide with wonder. Hoseok watches too, his gaze soft but understanding.

And still, Yoongi plays, pouring everything into the song, his eyes closed as if he’s lost in it too. The music swirls around Jungkook, and he feels it. Every note lands in his chest, reverberating, each one a wave crashing over him, pulling him deeper into the current.

When the last note fades away, the silence is almost unbearable.

Jungkook blinks rapidly, trying to clear the haze of emotions that’s settled over him. He wipes at his cheek with the back of his hand, but the tears are already gone, swallowed by the weight of the music. He feels lighter now, but there’s a lingering heaviness in his heart, a feeling that won’t leave.

Yoongi’s fingers hover over the strings, the echo of the final note still hanging in the air.

He opens his eyes, meeting Jungkook’s gaze.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t even know how to process what he’s just felt. But his heart swells with something he can’t name—gratitude, awe, something deeper. He offers a small smile, barely a tremor of his lips, but it’s enough.

Yoongi’s eyes soften, just for a moment, before he nods slightly, as if acknowledging something unspoken.

"Thank you," Jungkook says quietly, his voice hoarse, but genuine.

Yoongi doesn’t reply, just shifts the guitar in his lap, his expression knowing. But Jungkook knows he doesn’t need to. He’s already given him something more than words can say.

The moment Hoseok stands up, the mood shifts. The pups, their joy slowly fading as they realize the inevitable, begin to murmur their protests. A chorus of small voices rises in a mix of reluctance and playful complaints, their words unintelligible in their haste, but the tone unmistakable, they don’t want to leave.

Hoseok, however, seems unfazed. With a gentle but firm hand, he calls for the children to gather their things, ushering them in the direction of the school. He keeps a bright, understanding smile on his face, but there’s an undeniable edge to his voice that reminds them it’s time to return.

Jungkook watches quietly, his eyes following the group. The playful banter and the lighthearted sounds of their fading footsteps leave a lingering echo in the air. A soft sigh escapes him before he pulls his gaze back toward Yoongi.

The alpha stands near the blanket, his posture relaxed, but there’s something about the way his eyes are unfocused now, as though he's lost in thought, that catches Jungkook's attention. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but Jungkook can sense a shift in the atmosphere around the older man.

Yoongi's gaze doesn't meet his. He seems... flustered. It’s not something Jungkook has seen in the alpha before. Yoongi is typically composed, distant, unreadable. But now, there's a quiet hesitance about him, a fleeting unease that catches Jungkook off guard.

Maybe it’s the realization that he just played for a human. Or maybe it’s because he played for Jungkook—but whatever it is, Jungkook can’t help but feel a flicker of warmth in his chest at the thought. A small part of him wonders if Yoongi had known how much the music would move him, how deeply it would affect him.

Before Jungkook can put his thoughts into words, Yoongi speaks. His voice is softer than usual, almost tentative as he bids Hoseok and the pups farewell. His tone doesn’t give away anything, but Jungkook senses that Yoongi is trying to retreat into the familiar quiet of himself.

And then, just as quickly as he had appeared, Yoongi turns away, leaving the clearing. He looks at Jungkook one last time, his eyes briefly locking with his, and Jungkook feels something tighten in his chest—a brief, unspoken exchange, too fleeting to truly understand. Then Yoongi disappears into the trees, his figure swallowed by the snowy woods.

Jungkook doesn’t have the chance to call out, nor does he know if he would have said anything even if he could. A thousand words linger on the tip of his tongue, words that he can’t quite form, a question he doesn’t know how to ask. He watches Yoongi leave, his heart a little heavier than before. And as the last sound of the pups’ voices fades, he is left in the quiet stillness of the snow-covered playground, the weight of the moment settling around him.

Hoseok, who has been watching from a distance, gives Jungkook a brief smile, his eyes soft with understanding. "Take care, little one," he says, his voice full of kindness. Without another word, he turns and follows after the pups, their laughter slowly dying down as they make their way back to the village.

Jungkook sits for a few more seconds. The wind picks up slightly, rustling through the trees, and he feels the chill seep into his bones. But it’s not the cold that makes him shiver, it’s the weight of everything he’s feeling, the overwhelming newness of the world around him. He looks back toward the path he had come from—the one that led him here, to this place, to these people.

Taking a deep breath, he stands and starts walking again, the crunch of the snow beneath his crutches the only sound accompanying him. His heart feels a little lighter, but there’s still an ache, something deep within that he can’t quite reach. Something about Yoongi’s departure lingers in the air, a sense of longing, of something left unsaid. Jungkook wonders if he’ll ever truly understand it. But for now, he’s content to keep walking, exploring, letting the village reveal itself to him, one step at a time.

--

The crisp air bites at Jungkook’s skin as he approaches the training grounds, the soft crunch of snow beneath his crutches guiding him forward. His breath comes out in gentle puffs, visible in the cold morning light. He can hear the clang of metal on metal, the low hum of murmured commands, and the occasional grunt as someone strikes a target. As he steps further in, the sounds become more defined, more intense, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a deep sense of curiosity flutter in his chest.

Before him lies a scene unlike anything he had ever imagined. A dozen or so shifters—young and old, some familiar faces from the pack and some unknown—are training with various weapons. The sight is striking, to say the least. Some wield long spears, their movements fluid as they thrust and parry with deadly precision. Others use axes, their blows strong and controlled, as if they were an extension of their own bodies. There’s a rhythm to it, a harmony in how each warrior flows between their movements, their faces set in concentration, eyes focused, breaths steady.

Jungkook pauses just outside the grounds, unsure of where to go. He doesn’t want to disturb anyone, the warriors seem so deeply immersed in their practice that he feels like an intruder. He scans the area, and his eyes fall on several wooden tables set along the perimeter of the training grounds. The tables are simple but sturdy, piles of gear scattered across them—some for sharpening blades, others with spare arrows, and various hunting tools he doesn’t recognize.

He decides that this will be the safest place for him to settle. At least here, he can observe without getting in the way. His hands grip his crutches tighter as he walks over, carefully selecting a spot at one of the tables. The cold of the wood seeps through his fingers, but he doesn’t mind.

The hunters, he realizes, are nothing like the ones back in his village. In his old life, the term “hunter” had been synonymous with violence and death. The hunters in his village were feared, merciless, and cruel. But here? It’s different. Watching these shifters train, he sees no malice in their actions. There’s a quiet focus to everything they do, a dedication to protecting their pack and ensuring its survival.

The clang of steel against wood isn’t an echo of cruelty—it’s a reminder of their strength and discipline, a bond to the land and to each other.

Jungkook watches intently as two shifters spar together, their movements graceful and calculated. One of them, a taller figure, ducks beneath a sweeping strike from his opponent, then immediately counters with a thrust that forces the other to step back. They’re not trying to hurt each other, but testing their limits, honing their skills.

As a few more of the hunters run through drills, their movements sharp and calculated, Jungkook feels an unfamiliar pull in his chest. It’s not the fear he had once associated with the word “hunter,” but a deep, resonating respect. This is strength, true strength. The kind that is tempered by honor and care. He wonders, for a moment, if he could ever belong in this world. If he could ever be a part of something like this, where every action has a purpose, where every movement serves a greater good.

He catches sight of another shifter practicing with a bow and arrow. The fluidity of their stance, the grace with which they draw their bow, is almost hypnotic. Jungkook finds himself captivated by the way the arrow flies through the air, finding its target with a soft thud. There’s a deep admiration in his heart for these hunters—not just for their strength, but for their quiet determination to protect those they love.

And yet, as much as he longs to be a part of it, he knows he’s still an outsider. His heart aches slightly at the thought. He doesn’t belong here in the same way they do. He’s still so new to everything, still trying to navigate the complexity of this pack and the life they lead. But for now, he’s content to watch, to observe, and to learn.

The sounds of training continue around him, and Jungkook lets himself sink into the moment. He doesn’t want to interrupt, doesn’t want to disturb the delicate balance they’ve built here. He’s content to simply watch, to be a part of it in the smallest way, and to let the weight of this new world wash over him.

Jungkook watches in quiet awe, his gaze following the fluid movements of the shifters as they train. The rhythm of the combat, the controlled precision of their every strike, is mesmerizing. But it’s only now that he truly notices who is leading them. His breath catches in his throat as he realizes that it’s Namjoon, their pack alpha, overseeing the training.

Namjoon stands at the forefront of the training grounds, his presence undeniable. He’s wearing full combat gear—thick leather armor that hugs his form, accentuating his broad shoulders and strong build. The rich, dark leather glints faintly in the sunlight as he moves, his sharp eyes scanning the group with a level of focus that sends a shiver through Jungkook’s spine. Every command that comes from his lips is immediate and clear, the tone unyielding and authoritative. 

Jungkook can’t tear his eyes away from the alpha. There’s something captivating about him, something that makes him feel both awe and… something else. The alpha’s strength is so apparent in the way he stands, the way he directs the training with a quiet yet commanding air. He’s not shouting or barking orders like some kind of tyrant, instead, his commands are steady, measured, as though he knows exactly how each of his packmates will respond. There’s a certain grace in his dominance, a balance of power and control that Jungkook finds utterly fascinating.

As Namjoon moves among the shifters, correcting stances, offering advice, his eyes occasionally meet Jungkook’s. The weight of that gaze makes Jungkook’s heart skip a beat. The alpha’s eyes are sharp, calculating, and there’s something in them that makes Jungkook blush involuntarily.

He quickly looks down, embarrassed by the sudden rush of warmth in his cheeks. Of course, Namjoon is handsome. He’s commanding and strong and undeniably attractive. But it’s more than that. There’s a quiet intensity in him that Jungkook can’t seem to shake, a presence that fills the air even without him needing to say anything.

It’s not just Namjoon, though. As his mind starts to wander, Jungkook realizes that Seokjin too has that same sort of presence—graceful, confident, a natural leader. Hoseok and Yoongi share something similar, a power that isn’t just physical, but comes from the way they carry themselves, the way they command attention without needing to demand it. Every one of them is magnificent in their own way, and it makes Jungkook feel a little small in comparison, like he’s only just beginning to understand the kind of world he’s stepped into.

His thoughts are interrupted when Namjoon raises a hand, signaling the end of the training session. A collective sigh of relief passes through the group of shifters as they begin to relax, stretching their muscles and pulling off their protective gear. 

The alpha’s gaze shifts, locking onto Jungkook for a moment before he strides over, his boots crunching on the snow with each purposeful step. Jungkook’s heart races as Namjoon approaches. He can feel his cheeks heating up again, and he immediately looks away, unsure of what to do or say.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon’s voice is smooth, deep, carrying that same authority that Jungkook has come to associate with the alpha. “How are you feeling?”

Jungkook lifts his gaze, startled by the genuine concern in Namjoon’s voice. He opens his mouth to speak, but his words seem to falter for a moment. He wasn’t expecting the alpha to approach him so directly. “I-I’m okay, thank you Namjoon-ssi” he stammers, his voice softer than usual.

Namjoon gives him a small smile, one that is both reassuring and strangely comforting. The smile is brief but enough to make Jungkook’s heart race. “Good,” Namjoon says simply. “Take it easy today. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Th-thank you… I hope I was not being a bother… I just got curious and…”

“You were not”

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he suddenly becomes acutely aware of the dozens of pairs of eyes fixed on him from the training grounds. His heart races in his chest, a mix of surprise and a growing sense of discomfort. He tries not to meet anyone’s gaze, shifting uncomfortably on his seat as he awkwardly grips the crutches, unsure of how to respond to the sudden scrutiny.

As if sensing his unease, Namjoon follows Jungkook’s gaze, his sharp eyes sweeping across the group of shifters who, much to Jungkook’s growing embarrassment, are all staring openly at him. There’s no mistaking the curiosity in their eyes, the way they’re all watching him intently, some even exchanging whispers. Namjoon’s expression shifts slightly, an amused but exasperated smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He clears his throat, his voice ringing out with authority but lacking any real anger. “Hey!” Namjoon calls out sharply, his voice echoing across the grounds. “Stop staring, it’s not polite.”

For a moment, everything falls silent. Jungkook could’ve sworn the temperature of the air shifts just slightly, the tension hanging like a fog, thick and palpable. But then Namjoon’s next words break the stillness, his tone lighter than before, though there’s a faint undertone of annoyance. “I said stop staring. You can talk to him, not gawk at him like that.”

The shifters seem to freeze for a moment, some blinking in surprise, others shuffling awkwardly as they realize they’ve been caught. Namjoon shoots them a pointed look before his gaze returns to Jungkook, softening almost imperceptibly.

“I’m sorry about that,” Namjoon says, his voice quieter now, a slight apologetic edge to it. “They’re just curious. They’ve been asking me about you for the past few days.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. They’ve been asking about me? he thinks, still trying to process the fact that the whole group of shifters—dozens of them—seem so interested in him. It’s a little overwhelming. “They want to talk to me?” Jungkook asks, his voice a little unsure, the words coming out as more of a question than a statement.

Namjoon’s lips twitch into a small smile, almost as if he finds the situation amusing. He lets out a small sigh. “Yes. They’ve been pestering me non-stop, wanting to meet you. I’ve had to tell them to wait until you were feeling better, but… well, they’ve been pretty persistent.”

Jungkook’s cheeks flush at the thought. He never imagined that anyone—especially a group of shifters—would be so eager to meet him. 

“I’m… not really sure what to say to them,” Jungkook admits, his voice barely above a whisper. He looks down at his crutches again, suddenly feeling small. The idea of talking to so many strangers, especially ones as strong and skilled as these shifters, feels intimidating. “I don’t know anything about hunting or… anything they might want to ask.”

Namjoon answers softly, his expression warming. “Don’t worry about it,” he reassures Jungkook. “They just want to know more about you. You’re… well, you’re different from everyone else here.” He pauses, glancing over his shoulder at the shifters who are still watching curiously. “And that’s something that intrigues them.”

Jungkook’s thoughts swirl. He’s never been the center of attention, never been someone others wanted to learn about. The idea feels strange, almost surreal, but there’s also a small part of him that’s flattered. He had always been an outsider in his village, never fitting in, never feeling like he belonged. But here, in this strange new world with the pack, maybe he could belong.

Namjoon gives him a soft nod, as though reading his thoughts. “I’ll leave it up to you. If you want to talk to them, they’ll be here. If you need some space, just let me know.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, weighing his options. The thought of facing a crowd of shifters still makes his heart race, but the curiosity in their eyes isn’t malicious. It’s genuine, and a small part of him is eager to see what they want to know. Maybe this is a step towards feeling like he’s a part of something, something larger than just himself.

Jungkook takes a steadying breath, curling his fingers tighter around the fabric of his coat as he gathers the courage to speak. “I… I’d like to meet them.” His voice is soft, uncertain, but determined nonetheless. It only feels right. The pack has given him shelter, tolerated his presence despite what he is. This—meeting them, allowing them to satisfy their curiosity—is the least he can do.

Namjoon watches him carefully, his sharp gaze scanning Jungkook’s face as if searching for any sign of hesitation. A shadow of concern flickers across the alpha’s features, his brow furrowing just slightly. “Are you sure?” Namjoon asks, his voice quieter now, tinged with something gentle. “You don’t have to push yourself. No one will be upset if you’re not ready.”

Jungkook swallows, holding Namjoon’s gaze. The alpha’s eyes are steady, grounding, filled with something Jungkook can’t quite name. He takes another breath, letting his shoulders relax despite the way his heart is still racing.

“I’m sure,” he says, a little firmer this time, nodding to himself. “I want to.”

Namjoon’s lips press together, as if he’s still debating whether or not to argue. Then, finally, he exhales, giving Jungkook a small nod of approval. The alpha steps back slightly, just as Jungkook braces himself on his crutches, making a move to stand.

But before he can fully push himself up, a strong hand presses gently but firmly against his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don't” Namjoon chides, his tone light but unmistakably firm. “You stay right there.”

Jungkook blinks up at him, confused. “But—”

“You need rest,” Namjoon cuts him off easily, the barest hint of amusement creeping into his voice. “They can come to you.”

Jungkook’s lips part slightly in protest, but one look at Namjoon’s unwavering expression tells him there’s no room for argument. His face warms as he slowly lowers himself back onto the bench, gripping the crutches in his lap. Namjoon doesn’t move his hand until he’s certain Jungkook won’t try again, only pulling away once the human settles.

Then, the alpha turns his head toward the training grounds, where the group of shifters is still watching, waiting. Namjoon makes a subtle but unmistakable motion with his hand, beckoning them over.

The reaction is immediate. A ripple of excitement runs through the gathered shifters, and within seconds, they’re making their way toward Jungkook in eager strides. The closer they get, the more Jungkook feels his nervousness creeping back in, his fingers tightening slightly around his sleeves as he fights the urge to shrink into himself. They all look… big. Strong. Even the ones that seem younger than him hold themselves with an effortless confidence, a natural ease that Jungkook has never possessed.

The first to reach him is a broad-shouldered man with short dark hair, his grin wide and toothy as he steps forward. “You’re Jungkook, right?” he asks, his voice filled with open curiosity.

Jungkook nods quickly, his tongue feeling oddly heavy in his mouth. “Y-Yeah,” he stutters, internally wincing at how small his voice sounds. “I, um… It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too!” Another shifter, a woman with braided hair and sharp eyes, beams at him. “We’ve been waiting for a chance to talk to you.”

One by one, the shifters introduce themselves—names, ranks, and little details about their roles in the pack. Jungkook tries to keep up, but there are so many of them, and his head is already spinning. Some of them ask him small questions—how he’s feeling, how he’s adjusting—but for the most part, they’re the ones doing the talking.

Jungkook wants to respond smoothly, to make a good impression, but his voice keeps catching in his throat. His shyness makes him stumble over his words, his cheeks warming in embarrassment every time he stutters or fumbles a response.

But to his surprise, none of them seem to mind. If anything, it only makes them smile more.

“He’s so cute,” someone mutters under their breath, and Jungkook’s face burns hotter.

Namjoon, standing nearby with his arms crossed, sighs. “Don’t overwhelm him.”

Jungkook barely hears him over the sound of the shifters’ chatter. It’s a lot, but… not unpleasant. The pack is loud, warm, filled with an energy that feels completely foreign to him.

After a while the shifters retreat back to the training grounds, their loud voices and laughter gradually fading into the crisp winter air. He exhales slowly, trying to process everything. Meeting them had been… overwhelming, but not in a bad way. They had been so warm, so full of life, so utterly different from the people of his old village.

He doesn’t expect Namjoon to stay behind.

Even less does he expect the alpha to move, stepping closer before lowering himself onto the bench beside Jungkook with a quiet sigh.

Jungkook stiffens instinctively, his heart leaping up to his throat. The alpha’s presence is large—commanding, even when relaxed—and having him this close sends a flurry of nerves through Jungkook’s chest. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what to say. So he says nothing, only lowering his gaze to his hands as they fidget in his lap.

The quiet between them stretches, but it isn’t heavy or suffocating. If anything, it feels… thoughtful. Namjoon doesn’t speak right away, and for a brief moment, Jungkook wonders if the alpha simply needed a break, if maybe he had sat down without intending to say anything at all.

Then, finally, Namjoon exhales again, low and steady.

“Jungkook.”

The human blinks. His name sounds different coming from Namjoon’s mouth—not as sharp, not as distant as before. He hesitates, then slowly turns his head, meeting the alpha’s gaze.

Namjoon is already looking at him.

Something in his expression makes Jungkook’s breath catch. His eyes are softer than usual, the harsh edges of his face smoothed out by something soft. It’s strange. Jungkook has only ever seen Namjoon wear expressions of control—intensity, authority, sharp precision. But this… this is different.

“I want to apologize.”

Jungkook blinks. Stares. He isn’t sure he heard that correctly.

“…Huh?”

Namjoon’s lips twitch, just slightly, before he sighs again, running a hand through his hair. “I said, I’m sorry.” His voice is even, but there’s an unmistakable sincerity in it. “For how I treated you when you first arrived.”

Jungkook frowns, confused. His mind immediately scrambles back to their first encounters—Namjoon’s cold words, the careful distance he had put between them, the way he had dismissed Jungkook at every turn. But still… an apology?

“I…” Jungkook shifts slightly, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t—I mean, why?”

Namjoon hums, gaze drifting for a brief second before returning to Jungkook’s face. “I had my reasons,” he says carefully. “But that doesn’t excuse it.” His jaw tightens slightly before he continues, voice quieter now. “As pack alpha, I should’ve known better. Even if I didn’t trust you, being cruel wasn’t necessary.”

Jungkook stares at him, wide-eyed, bewildered. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t even know how to react. In his old village, apologies from people in power were rare—nonexistent, even. Those in charge never apologized, never cared to. But Namjoon…

Namjoon apologized.

Jungkook swallows, his fingers gripping the fabric of his coat tighter. His heart is doing something strange—thumping a little too fast, a little too hard. He doesn’t know why.

Still, for some reason, his chest feels lighter.

Namjoon’s words still hang in the air between them, heavy with meaning, but Jungkook finds himself struggling to grasp them fully. An apology from the pack alpha? It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel deserved.

Jungkook knows why Namjoon had been distant. He understands. It makes sense—why would a pack leader trust a human in their midst, a stranger, someone who didn’t belong? Namjoon had been cautious, protective of his own. Jungkook can’t blame him for that. If anything, he should be grateful. The alpha has already done so much for him—saving him, sheltering him, keeping him safe. An apology shouldn’t be necessary.

But Namjoon still gave it.

Jungkook looks down, pressing his lips together, feeling small under the weight of it. He doesn’t know how to accept something like this, doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. After a moment, he simply murmurs, “Thank you.”

It’s all he can offer.

Namjoon studies him before nodding slightly. “I’d like to get to know you,” he says then, his voice steady. “Since you’re here to stay.”

Jungkook’s breath catches.

He looks up at the alpha, eyes wide, pulse quickening at the intensity of Namjoon’s gaze. That deep, molten crimson—it holds him in place, warm yet piercing. Jungkook flushes before he can stop himself, gripping his coat tighter as he fidgets under the attention.

“You don’t have to,” Jungkook says quickly, voice a little too rushed, a little too nervous. He drops his gaze, his fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeve. “I mean—don’t force yourself. I’m used to being by myself.” His voice wavers, just slightly, but he forces himself to continue. “I’ll get used to it here too. I always do.”

There’s a pause.

Then, Namjoon exhales softly, almost like he’s disappointed. “Jungkook…”

Jungkook hesitates, something about the way Namjoon says his name making his stomach twist. He risks a glance up and nearly flinches at the way the alpha is looking at him—like he’s sad. Like Jungkook’s words had actually hurt him somehow.

“I want to,” Namjoon says, firm and sure. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

Jungkook swallows.

There’s something about the alpha’s tone that makes him want to believe it, makes his chest tighten in a way he can’t describe. But before he can think of what to say next, Namjoon suddenly tilts his head, something flickering in his gaze. Then, his lips part, and—

“Please, call me hyung Jungkook.”

Jungkook stops breathing. His brain stutters, mouth parting slightly in shock as he stares at Namjoon. Surely, he heard that wrong. Surely, the pack alpha did not just tell him to—

Jungkook gasps.

It’s small, barely more than a breath, but Namjoon notices. His lips twitch, just slightly, almost like he’s amused. The tiniest ghost of a smirk flickers across his face before it fades again.

“We can start with that,” Namjoon says simply, as if he hadn’t just turned Jungkook’s entire world upside down.

Jungkook stares. Blinks. Swallows.

Then, hesitantly, with his face burning and his voice trembling—

“…N-Namjoon-hyung.”

He stumbles over the word, stutters through it, but Namjoon just nods in approval. A moment later, the alpha rises to his feet, stretching his arms slightly before casting one last look at Jungkook. “Have a good day, Jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook nearly chokes.

His face flares with warmth as he stares after Namjoon’s retreating figure, his heart doing something strange and fluttery in his chest. The alpha had never called him that before. Never spoken to him like this.

Jungkook presses his hands to his cheeks, groaning quietly to himself.

He was never going to survive this pack.

Notes:

Heyyy !

We're getting so close to Yoongi and Jungkook’s cute moment together! I can't help but spoil you a little so I will tell you it's happening next chapter! I hope you'll like it! 🥺💞

And since you’ve all been so curious, I’ll also confirm that the Vmin chapter is coming soon, just a few more chapters to go! 👀✨

Also, Jungkook being flustered over Namjoon is the most relatable thing ever. Like, who wouldn’t be?? 😂

Take care y'all ! 💖

Chapter 18: Winter Garden

Summary:

Jungkook wanders into a blooming winter garden

Jungkook spends most of his day wandering through the village center, letting himself get lost in the lively atmosphere.

The market is bustling, vendors calling out their wares, the air thick with the scent of roasted meats, fresh produce, and something sweet—honeyed pastries, perhaps. He watches shifters move about with ease, greeting one another warmly, bartering over goods with a familiarity that speaks of a tight-knit community. It’s strange, in a way. He had never experienced something like this in his old village.

Jungkook even visits Halmeoni at the communal kitchen, where she fusses over him the moment she sees him hobbling through the doorway. “Aigoo, my little one, you should be resting,” she scolds, but her eyes are kind, her hands quick as she pushes a warm bun into his grasp. It’s soft and still steaming, the scent of spiced red bean paste filling his nose. Jungkook beams at her in thanks, his heart warm as he takes a careful bite.

He continues roaming, stopping here and there, listening to the chatter of the villagers, marveling at the way the pack seems to function so effortlessly together. Eventually, his wandering leads him to the river.

It glimmers under the afternoon light, the water a deep, dark blue. Despite the winter chill, it isn’t frozen, the current flowing steadily. A few shifters are lined along the bank, their feet firmly planted on the rocks as they cast their lines into the water. Jungkook watches in quiet fascination, his breath clouding in front of him. He had never been taught how to fish, never been allowed near the village’s hunting groups. To see it now—to see shifters waiting so patiently, their sharp eyes scanning the water—he wonders if it’s more difficult than it looks.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, movement.

Jungkook turns, his gaze catching on a familiar figure a short distance away. He blinks, squinting slightly. Was that… Seokjin?

He hesitates before stepping closer, following the sound of an unmistakable voice rising in what seems to be an argument. Though, the tone isn’t harsh—there’s a playfulness to it, the words carrying more exasperation than true anger.

“I told you not to use this fishing rod!” Seokjin’s voice huffs, full of frustration.

“Well, if someone hadn’t broken mine, I wouldn’t have to use this rusty thing,” an older man retorts, unimpressed.

Jungkook steps even closer, carefully maneuvering his crutches over the uneven ground. He peeks past a stack of wooden crates and sees Seokjin standing with his arms crossed, looking absolutely affronted. Opposite him, an elder shifter grips a worn fishing rod, his expression full of stubborn resolve.

“Oh, not this again,” Seokjin groans, throwing his hands up. “I told you it was Taehyungie!”

“Nonsense,” the man sniffs. “Sweet Taehyungie would never do anything like that.”

Jungkook bites back a smile.

Seokjin lets out a dramatic sigh, rubbing at his temple. “Oh, for the love of—" he pauses, glancing up, and his eyes land on Jungkook. His expression shifts instantly, his frustration melting into a wide, pleased smile. “Jungkookie! What are you doing here?”

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard at being addressed so suddenly. He shifts on his feet, gripping his crutches a little tighter. “Uh—I was just exploring?” he says hesitantly.

Seokjin grins, gesturing him over. “Well, come here then. Let me introduce you properly to this stubborn old man.”

The elder scoffs, but there’s amusement in his gaze as he turns toward Jungkook. “You must be the human everyone’s been talking about.”

Jungkook nods shyly, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “Um… yes.”

The man hums, his sharp eyes scanning Jungkook briefly before he sniffs. “Too skinny,” he declares. “Are you eating enough?”

Jungkook blinks. “I—I think so?”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Oh, great, now you’ve done it. He’s going to start making you eat every time he sees you.”

The man shrugs. “He should eat. He’s small.”

Jungkook is at a loss. He feels his ears burn.

Seokjin sighs before nudging Jungkook’s arm playfully. “Anyway, this is Elder Minseok. Don’t let him fool you, he’s been spoiling Jimin and Taehyung since they were pups.”

“They deserved it,” Minseok grumbles. “Unlike you, you’re a menace. And you scare the fish away!”

Seokjin groans again. “Oh my god, let it go already!”

Jungkook presses his lips together, trying very, very hard not to laugh.

Jungkook settles down next to Seokjin, watching as the elder mutters something under his breath and turns his attention back to his fishing rod. Seokjin huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he leans in slightly toward Jungkook.

"He’s just bad at fishing," Seokjin murmurs, voice conspiratorial.

Jungkook lets out an amused giggle, the sound bubbling up before he can stop it. Seokjin looks at him with a grin before reaching out to ruffle his hair, his touch warm and fond. Jungkook scrunches his nose at the gesture, but he doesn’t shy away.

After a moment, Seokjin tilts his head, eyeing him curiously. “So, what have you been up to today?”

Jungkook shifts, adjusting his crutches beside him before looking out toward the river. “I, uh… I walked around the village for a while. Went to the market, saw Halmeoni, and—” he hesitates briefly, glancing at Seokjin. “I ended up at the playground.”

Seokjin hums. “Oh? That’s nice. Did you meet the pups?”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah. They were with Hoseok-hyung and…” he trails off, suddenly a little shy.

Seokjin catches onto it immediately. His eyes narrow slightly, a knowing glint in them. “And?”

Jungkook hesitates before sighing. “And Yoongi-ssi was there, too.”

Something flickers in Seokjin’s expression. His brows lift, and he leans in just a little. “Oh?”

Jungkook hesitates again before pushing through. “He played for the pups. He had his guitar with him.”

Seokjin’s reaction is immediate. “Yoongi played in front of you?” he asks, blinking in surprise.

“Well, not just me,” Jungkook says quickly. “It was for the pups.”

Seokjin shakes his head, his expression still thoughtful. “But he let you stay?”

Jungkook nods slowly. “Yeah.”

Seokjin stares at him for a beat before a slow, satisfied smile stretches across his lips. He leans back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I knew he’d crack eventually.”

Jungkook frowns. “What do you mean?”

Seokjin chuckles, glancing toward the water as he speaks. “Yoongi… he’s not the type to just let people listen to him play. Music is very intimate to him. He only plays when he’s comfortable.” He glances back at Jungkook, his smile turning a touch softer. “The fact that he played while you were there? That’s kind of a big deal.”

Jungkook blinks, his heart skipping a little at the implication. “Oh.”

Seokjin watches him, amusement still dancing in his gaze. “Yeah. Oh.”

Jungkook shifts slightly where he sits, the river’s soft gurgle filling the silence between them. He bites his lip, hesitant, before finally voicing his thoughts.

“It… it didn’t really seem like he wanted me there,” he admits quietly, fingers curling into the fabric of his coat.

Seokjin hums, his eyes thoughtful as he studies Jungkook. “Yoongi just looks like that,” he says after a moment, his tone fond. “Cold, intimidating. He’s always been like that, even with us.” He tilts his head. “But he’s a kind soul, really. It just takes time to see it.”

Jungkook frowns slightly. “I don’t know… He didn’t even say anything when I got there. Just looked at me.” He shivers at the memory of Yoongi’s piercing blue eyes locking onto his, unreadable and sharp. “I thought maybe I was bothering him.”

Seokjin chuckles. “That’s just how he is. He was probably just surprised to see you.”

Jungkook blinks. “Surprised?”

Seokjin grins, a glint of mischief in his gaze. “Wanna know a secret?”

Jungkook hesitates before nodding.

Seokjin leans in just slightly, lowering his voice. “He’s been asking about you.”

Jungkook’s breath catches. “What?”

Seokjin nods. “Yoongi’s not the type to just go around asking about people. He doesn’t trust easily, and he doesn’t get curious about new faces. But he’s been asking about you.” His voice softens, losing some of its teasing edge. “That means he’s willing to try. Even if he doesn’t realize it yet.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say to that. His heart does something strange in his chest—something warm, something hesitant. He pictures Yoongi again, the way he’d watched him across the playground, the way he’d nodded before playing that last song.

He swallows, looking down at his hands. “I don’t know why he would.”

Seokjin just smiles. “Maybe you’re more interesting than you think.”

Jungkook hesitates for a moment before speaking, still processing everything that had happened today. But Seokjin is looking at him expectantly, warm and patient, and it makes him feel like he can say anything.

“I… I met Namjoon-ssi at the training grounds,” Jungkook finally says, playing with a loose thread on his sleeve. “I—well, I was just watching, but then he saw me, and so did the others, and then they all wanted to meet me.”

Seokjin’s eyes brighten with curiosity, and Jungkook feels encouraged to continue.

“He… he asked if I was sure about meeting them, told me not to force myself.” Jungkook lets out a small breath. “But I wanted to, so he let them come over, and they all introduced themselves. They were… nice.”

Seokjin smiles at that, like he already knew they would be. “I told you, didn’t I? The pack’s rough around the edges, but they’re good people.”

Jungkook nods, then hesitates, his fingers gripping his coat a little tighter. “Then, when they left…” He swallows. “Namjoon-ssi sat with me. He apologized. For being cold to me before.”

Seokjin’s brows lift slightly, his expression turning soft with surprise.

Jungkook continues, voice quieter now. “He said he had his reasons, but that he should’ve known better. That even if he didn’t trust me, he didn’t have to be mean.” He exhales, shaking his head. “I didn’t know what to say, so I just… I just thanked him.”

Seokjin hums, nodding in approval. “That was the right thing to do.”

Jungkook bites his lip before glancing back at him. “And then—he told me to call him hyung.”

Seokjin gasps dramatically, his mouth falling open as if Jungkook had just revealed the greatest secret in the world. “No way!” he exclaims, clutching his chest.

Jungkook stares at him, blinking, before realizing the beta is doing it just to be dramatic—just to make him laugh. He bites back a smile, shaking his head.

Seokjin grins. “That’s good, Jungkookie. I’m glad.” Then, suddenly, his fingers pinch at Jungkook’s cheeks, tugging them lightly. “I never doubted it! You’re just too cute to resist!”

Jungkook squeaks, flinching. “I’m not cute!”

“Oh, you absolutely are.” Seokjin’s grip doesn’t relent, even as Jungkook flails a little, cheeks growing warmer with each second. The elder’s touch is playful, teasing, but up close, Jungkook suddenly realizes just how stunning he is—his features sharp yet gentle, lips curled into an amused smile, dark eyes twinkling like he’s thoroughly enjoying this.

And Jungkook—his heart flutters. Again. It’s been doing that a lot lately.

“Seokjin-hyung,” he protests weakly, voice bordering on a whine.

Seokjin finally relents, only to let his fingers trail softly against Jungkook’s cheek instead, the touch featherlight. “You look pretty when you blush,” he murmurs.

Jungkook’s breath hitches. And then, to his utter mortification, his face burns even redder.

Seokjin laughs, utterly delighted. “See? Too cute."

Seokjin chuckles as he reaches out, ruffling Jungkook’s hair with an easy familiarity, fingers playfully tousling the dark strands. Jungkook huffs, flustered, and instinctively reaches up to bat the elder’s hand away, cheeks heating at the casual affection.

“Hyung,” he grumbles, trying to shrink away from the touch. But Seokjin is persistent, his grin only widening as he messes up Jungkook’s hair even more.

Jungkook finally catches Seokjin’s wrist in an attempt to stop him, but the moment their hands touch, something shifts. The movement halts, and suddenly, Seokjin isn’t laughing anymore. Instead, he stills, his fingers gently slipping from Jungkook’s hair as his gaze flickers down to where their hands meet.

Jungkook blinks, confused by the sudden change in atmosphere. Seokjin’s fingers curl slightly around his own, his thumb brushing against the chill of Jungkook’s bare skin. His brows furrow, his expression shifting into something more serious, more concerned.

“…Jungkook,” Seokjin murmurs, his voice quieter now. “Where are your gloves?”

Jungkook tilts his head, thrown off by the question. “I… don’t have any?”

Seokjin’s lips part slightly before pressing into a thin line. He turns Jungkook’s hands over, inspecting his exposed fingers with a sharp exhale. “Your hands are freezing,” he mutters, almost to himself. His grip tightens just a little, as if trying to transfer his warmth through touch alone. Then, his gaze flicks back up, eyes narrowing in disapproval. “You mean to tell me that you’ve been roaming around in this cold, with your hands practically frozen, and you just—what? Decided that was fine?”

Jungkook swallows, suddenly feeling like a scolded child. “I didn’t really think about it…”

Seokjin huffs in clear frustration, shaking his head. Before he can protest, Seokjin’s hands disappear from his own, only to return a second later, slipping a pair of thick, dark gloves over his fingers. Jungkook’s breath stutters as the fabric slides against his skin, the lingering warmth from Seokjin’s body still nestled deep in the wool. The gloves are too big, the tips extending past his fingers just a little, but they’re warm. So warm.

“There,” Seokjin says, adjusting the cuffs snugly around Jungkook’s wrists before taking a step back, eyeing his work with a look of fond satisfaction. “Much better.”

Jungkook stares down at his hands, heart stammering at the thought of wearing something that had just been on Seokjin. “But—”

“No buts,” the beta interrupts before Jungkook can finish, placing his hands on his hips. “You need them more than I do. We wolves run hotter than humans—our bodies regulate the cold differently.” Then, as if sensing Jungkook’s lingering hesitation, Seokjin softens, his usual bright, teasing grin returning. “Besides, it’s a gift. From me to you. Just accept it, okay?”

Jungkook doesn’t know why his throat feels tight, why his chest warms despite the chilly air. He lowers his gaze to the gloves again, curling his fingers into the fabric, as if testing their weight. They smell faintly like Seokjin—like vanilla and white tea, crisp yet soft, and somehow comforting.

“…Okay,” Jungkook finally murmurs, his voice small.

Seokjin’s smile widens as he reaches out, ruffling Jungkook’s hair one last time before he turns back to his fishing duties. Jungkook doesn’t stop him this time, still too stunned by the warmth lingering on his hands.

--

The wind is crisp against Jungkook’s cheeks as he lingers by the river, staring at the way the sunlight glistens over the icy water. Everything about this place feels untouched, like something out of a dream. The mountains in the distance, the endless sky stretching above him, the quiet rustle of trees swaying gently in the wind.

He takes a deep breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs, and wonders if he’s ever felt this kind of peace before. It’s different from the suffocating silence of his old village. There, quiet meant danger, uncertainty. Here, it feels… safe. Like the world is simply existing, and he is allowed to exist within it.

Seokjin’s gloves are warm around his fingers, slightly too big, the fabric thick and soft. He clenches his hands into fists, feeling the way they mold around his skin, and lets out a small exhale. He doesn’t know why it makes his chest feel tight, but it does. With one last glance at the water, he grips his crutches and pushes himself up, setting off in search of something new.

He doesn’t have a destination in mind—he just walks, taking a random path leading further away from the village. The idea of exploring excites him in a way he can’t explain. He had spent most of his life knowing exactly where he was allowed to go, his world confined to the same dirt paths and crumbling buildings, the same wary glances and hushed whispers. But here, there are no rules pressing down on him. No invisible chains dragging him back. For the first time, he’s allowed to wander without fearing the consequences.

The further he walks, the quieter it gets. The soft crunch of snow under his boots is the only sound accompanying him. Towering pine trees line the path, their branches heavy with snow, but sunlight still filters through, casting long, golden streaks across the ground. The air smells fresh, crisp with pine and earth, the scent of nature untouched.

And then, something changes.

Jungkook slows to a stop, his brows furrowing as he looks around. The scenery has shifted—not drastically, but enough for him to notice. Amongst the white snow and dark green pines, color starts to emerge. At first, it's subtle, small specks of red and yellow dotting the landscape, peeking through the frost. But the further he walks, the more vibrant it becomes. Suddenly, the path isn’t just lined with trees, but with wildflowers—patches of pink, purple, blue, and gold bursting through the snow, blooming as if winter never came.

Jungkook stares, completely entranced.

That doesn’t seem right.

He’s no expert in nature, but even he knows flowers aren’t supposed to grow in the middle of winter. He had never really paid much attention to things like this before, had never been given the chance to observe, to learn, to wonder. But now, he can’t look away.

They’re beautiful. All different shapes and sizes, petals soft and delicate, swaying ever so slightly in the breeze. Some are tiny, barely bigger than his fingertip, clustered together like they’re seeking warmth. Others are wide and open, bright against the white snow. It doesn’t make sense, and yet—it’s real. He steps closer, lowering himself carefully so he doesn’t lose his balance. With gloved fingers, he reaches out, running his fingertips over the petals of a deep violet bloom. It bends gently under his touch, alive and thriving despite the cold.

How is this possible?

Jungkook bites his lip, glancing around as if the trees themselves might give him an answer. Maybe this is just another mystery of the forest, another strange and wonderful thing about this place he still doesn’t understand. Maybe it’s just the magic of the wolves, the way their world seems so different from everything he’s ever known.

Or maybe… maybe it’s just nature, resilient and strong, finding a way to bloom even when it shouldn't.

And for some reason, that thought makes him smile.

The path stretches ahead, winding through the pines, still lined with those strange, impossibly vibrant flowers. The colors remain vivid against the snow, an endless sea of petals in every shade—deep violets, bright reds, soft pinks and blues. It feels like something out of a story, a place untouched by time. Somewhere magical.

Jungkook listens as he walks, the soft crunch of his boots against the snow barely noticeable over the gentle sounds of the forest. Birds sing above him, their calls echoing through the trees, hidden somewhere in the thick branches. Their melodies mix with the whisper of the wind, the rustling of pine needles, the faintest creak of wood shifting under the weight of the cold. It all feels alive. Breathing.

And then, he sees it.

At first, it’s just a shape in the distance—a curve of something unnatural amongst the trees. But as Jungkook takes a few more steps, the sight fully unveils itself before him, and his breath catches in his throat.

An archway.

It stands tall, made of stone, worn and weathered by time but still standing strong. Flowers climb over its surface, weaving through every crack, spilling over like nature itself had claimed it long ago. They’re the same winter-defying blooms he had seen along the path, but here, they grow even more wildly, completely overtaking the structure. Their colors are brighter, richer, and as the sunlight filters through the trees, the petals glow like something out of a dream.

But it isn’t just the archway that leaves him breathless.

Beyond it, he sees them—tall, magnificent winterberry trees.

They’re enormous, their trunks stretching toward the sky, branches heavy with bright crimson berries that stand out against the pale winter landscape. They’re bigger than the ones near his hut, their presence commanding, ancient. They form a circle, surrounding something he can’t quite see yet, as if guarding whatever lies beyond.

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest.

He doesn’t know why he hesitates. There’s no fear, only awe, but something about the scene before him feels… sacred. Like he’s stepping into a place he isn’t meant to disturb. A hidden world within the forest, untouched and waiting.

But curiosity outweighs caution.

Slowly, carefully, he steps forward, moving beneath the archway. The moment he passes through, it’s as if the air itself changes—cooler, crisper, filled with something unexplainable. The scent of the winterberry trees lingers, sweet yet sharp, mingling with the faint earthy fragrance of the stone beneath his feet. The sound of the birds is softer here, as if even they are whispering.

And then, he hears it.

A sound so unmistakable it sends a jolt through his entire body.

The strum of a guitar.

Jungkook stops breathing for a moment.

It’s faint, carried by the wind, but he recognizes it immediately. The same deep, rich sound he had heard that morning, the instrument that had held him completely spellbound.

Yoongi.

It has to be him.

Jungkook doesn’t think—his feet move before he even realizes it, stepping further into the grove, drawn forward by the sound. His heart races, excitement thrumming in his veins. The music is clearer now, each note ringing through the air, deliberate and slow. A melody he doesn’t know but can already feel settling into his chest, warm and melancholic, like a song played for no one but the forest itself.

And suddenly, Jungkook wants to see him.

Wants to watch Yoongi’s hands move over the strings, wants to hear the music up close, to listen as closely as he had that morning, entranced by the way sound could make him feel things he never knew were possible.

So he keeps walking, deeper into the grove, following the music, the pull in his chest impossible to ignore.

Jungkook steps further into the clearing, and only then does he realize—this isn't just part of the forest.

It's a garden.

The space is large, but it doesn’t feel vast or open like the rest of the woods. It feels enclosed, like a hidden sanctuary meant only for one person. The towering winterberry trees form a natural barrier around it, their branches arching toward one another as if creating a canopy, filtering the soft light that seeps through the sky. The ground is uneven, layered with soft moss and patches of snow, but between them, life thrives. More of those strange, out-of-season flowers bloom here, spilling across the space in delicate clusters, adding bursts of color to the pale landscape.

Jungkook swallows, hesitating at the edge.

It feels private. Intimate.

He wonders, just for a moment, if he’s trespassing.

But then, the music reaches him again, and the thought drifts away like a leaf caught in the breeze.

The melody is different from this morning. It’s softer. Slower. Not playful, not bright. It’s careful. As if each note is being placed deliberately, one after the other, each one carrying something unspoken, something deeper.

It sounds like longing.

Like missing someone who isn’t there.

Jungkook isn’t sure how he knows, but he feels it—each strum of the strings settling in his chest, winding through his ribs, curling into something warm and aching. He’s never heard music like this before, never known an instrument could sound this way. Could feel this way. It’s like a voice without words, a confession spoken into the air where no one is meant to hear it.

It sounds like love.

His heart stutters at the thought. Jungkook should leave. He knows he should. The melody is too intimate, too raw, like reading a letter never meant to be opened. He can tell that this isn't a song meant for an audience—it's a song Yoongi plays for himself, for the wind and the trees and whatever ghosts linger in the quiet.

And yet… he can’t move.

He’s mesmerized.

His feet feel rooted in place, his breath slow and steady as he listens, letting the music pull him in like an invisible thread. It’s not just the song—it’s him, Yoongi, playing in this hidden space, playing with a kind of vulnerability Jungkook has never seen before.

Somewhere beyond the flowers, beyond the arching trees, Yoongi is there.

Jungkook isn’t sure he should see him like this. Isn’t sure if he deserves to witness something so open, so unguarded.

But even knowing that, he takes another step forward.

And then another.

Because no matter how much he tells himself to leave—he wants to stay.

Jungkook’s breath catches when he finally sees him.

Yoongi is sitting on a stone bench, his posture relaxed but poised, the guitar resting comfortably on his thigh. The bench itself is striking—almost black, but when the sunlight filters through the branches above and touches its surface, it gleams with a subtle, ethereal blue. It looks ancient, like it has stood in this place for years, untouched by time, waiting for someone to sit upon it.

Wildflowers bloom in a perfect circle around it, their colors vibrant against the snow, as if the earth itself bends to Yoongi’s presence. The petals shudder slightly in the breeze, but they remain upright, steadfast, framing the alpha like a painting, like something out of a story Jungkook has never heard but wishes he could.

Yoongi himself is a vision.

His dark, wavy hair shifts with the wind, strands slipping across his forehead, moving gently with every breath of air. His lashes rest against his cheeks, eyes closed, lost in whatever world he has created with his music. His fingers dance over the strings with effortless precision, pulling melody after melody from the instrument as if he were born with it in his hands. He hums softly under his breath, a quiet tune that follows the rhythm of the song, deep and smooth, blending seamlessly with the strums.

Jungkook doesn’t know if he’s ever seen someone look so at peace before.

It makes something inside him twist.

He should leave.

He should turn around, retrace his steps, pretend he was never here. He’s already intruding, already somewhere he doesn’t belong. This space, this garden, this moment—it isn’t his. It belongs to Yoongi alone.

And yet… he wants to be here.

A selfish, greedy part of him clings to the moment, unwilling to let it slip away just yet.

So, instead of leaving, Jungkook moves carefully, deliberately. He steps off the path and lowers himself into the snow, right among the delicate white snowdrops. The cold bites through the fabric of his clothes, numbing his legs almost instantly, but he doesn’t care. The thought of disturbing Yoongi is a far worse discomfort.

So he stays still.

And he listens.

The music continues, curling through the air like mist, soft and gentle, laced with something Jungkook doesn’t have the words for. It fills every corner of the garden, weaves through the branches, presses against his skin like warmth despite the cold surrounding him.

Jungkook doesn’t move.

He barely breathes.

He just watches, entranced, letting himself get lost in the sound, in the sight of Yoongi bathed in sunlight, humming a song that feels like a secret Jungkook was never meant to hear.

The world seems to slow around him, fading into the background until all that’s left is the sound of Yoongi’s guitar. The wind still moves through the trees, the birds still chirp softly in the distance, and yet, to Jungkook, none of it feels as real as the music. It flows effortlessly, a seamless transition from one song to the next, as if Yoongi isn’t just playing—but speaking through the notes, pouring his heart into the strings with every delicate pluck.

Jungkook keeps his eyes closed, his senses overwhelmed by the raw emotion in every melody. He’s never heard anything like this before—never imagined that music could carry so much feeling, that it could tell stories without a single word. He doesn’t know what these songs mean to Yoongi, but he knows—he knows—that they mean something.

Each tune is different. Some are slower, wistful, lingering like a bittersweet memory. Others are gentle, warm, tender in a way that makes Jungkook’s chest ache with something he doesn’t understand. They all share something in common, though.

Love.

Every note is laced with it, woven into the sound like a secret, like a promise. Not necessarily romantic love, but love in all its forms—love for something, someone, somewhere. It’s the kind of love that makes Jungkook’s throat feel tight, that makes him press his lips together and squeeze his eyes shut just a little harder, as if trying to absorb it all.

It almost feels like an invasion of privacy, like he’s witnessing something he shouldn’t.

But he can’t pull himself away.

So he stays.

Still. Quiet. Mesmerized.

Notes:

Hey everyone!

Not Yoongi desperately clinging to his mysterious musician persona, like we don’t all know he’s going to crack soon anyway. 😂

This chapter has another part, so no worries! I’m actually in the middle of editing it right now, so you’ll get to read the full interaction today if I'm fast enough.

Hope you’re all having a great weekend! I’m finally not sick anymore, and wow—suddenly, everything in life is 1000x better. I didn’t realize how much I took breathing for granted until I couldn’t do it properly, and then it became the most annoying thing ever.

Take care, y’all! 💛

Chapter 19: Blue Scilla

Summary:

Jungkook learns all about flowers.

He doesn’t know how long he remains like that, lost in the music, time slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. It could be minutes. It could be hours. He doesn’t care. He only knows that when the sixth song comes to an end, the music doesn’t start up again.

The silence feels heavy.

Slowly, cautiously, Jungkook blinks his eyes open, his breath catching as his gaze immediately locks onto Yoongi’s.

The alpha is already watching him.

There’s no shock in his expression, no irritation, no sharp-edged glare that Jungkook was half-expecting. Instead, his face is unreadable, his dark eyes calm, holding something that Jungkook can’t quite decipher.

Not anger.

Not annoyance.

Something softer.

For a split second, Jungkook thinks it might be fondness, but that—that—can’t be right.

It’s impossible.

His throat feels dry as he swallows, his fingers curling into the fabric of Seokjin’s gloves. He doesn’t move, doesn’t scramble to explain himself, doesn’t try to run. He just lowers his gaze, feeling suddenly very small under Yoongi’s quiet stare, and murmurs a barely audible, "Sorry."

The word vanishes into the cold air between them, swallowed by the stillness.

And yet, Yoongi hears it.

Jungkook can tell by the way his fingers twitch over the guitar strings, by the way his lips part just slightly, as if he’s considering a response.

For a moment, neither of them speak.

Jungkook stays rooted to the ground, surrounded by snowdrops, waiting. Heart unsteady, hands gripping onto gloves that aren’t his, warmth still lingering in his chest from the music that had filled the air just moments ago.

And Yoongi just watches him.

Unmoving. Unwavering.

Like he’s seeing something in Jungkook that not even Jungkook himself understands.

Jungkook keeps his head bowed, his fingers curling tighter around the edge of his gloves, unsure if he’s gripping them for warmth or for comfort.

Maybe both. Maybe neither.

His heart beats unevenly, like a drum played by unsure hands, too fast, too loud. The air feels heavier now, thick with something unspoken, something lingering between him and the alpha sitting just a few feet away.

He doesn't dare look up again.

He can still feel Yoongi’s gaze on him, steady and intimidating, but he can’t bring himself to meet it. Not when his own emotions are tangled and frayed at the edges, pulling him in too many directions at once.

Embarrassment.

He hadn’t meant to intrude, hadn’t meant to listen for so long. But the music had been impossible to ignore.

Intimidation.

Because Yoongi is still Yoongi—sharp edges, piercing gaze, an alpha who carries himself with an effortless authority that makes Jungkook hesitate, makes him second-guess every movement, every breath.

But more than that—more than that—he feels something else entirely.

Something like awe.

Mesmerized.

Because this Yoongi, the one who had sat there with his guitar, playing song after song with his eyes closed and his head tilted ever so slightly toward the sky—this Yoongi is different. Not the cold, distant alpha who had barely spared Jungkook a glance when they first met. Not the sharp-tongued, no-nonsense alpha who had sized him up in the infirmary with suspicion in his gaze. No, this Yoongi had been... softer.

Completely absorbed by his music.

Jungkook thinks back to his conversation with Seokjin and Hoseok, the way the betas had talked about Yoongi. Their words ring in his ears now, clearer than ever.

"Yoongi isn’t what he seems."

"He’s hard to crack, but once you do, he’s the kindest soul."

And Jungkook wants to believe it. More than anything, he wants to believe it.

For a long moment, the only sound is the wind weaving through the winterberry trees, the faint rustling of leaves and flowers swaying gently in the cold breeze. Yoongi doesn’t move, doesn’t shift or fidget. He simply watches, waiting.

Then, finally, he speaks.

"What did you think?"

The question is quiet, almost careful, but it still makes Jungkook’s breath catch. His head snaps up instinctively, his wide brown eyes meeting Yoongi’s icy gaze for the first time since the music stopped.

The alpha’s gaze is steady, but there’s something behind his eyes—something that makes Jungkook hesitate, makes him struggle to find his voice.

What does he think?

Is Yoongi asking about the songs? About the way they sounded? About the way they made Jungkook feel—like he was being carried away by something bigger than himself, something beautiful and tender and raw?

Jungkook parts his lips, but no words come out at first. His tongue feels heavy, his thoughts scrambled, and he wonders if it’s always going to be like this around Yoongi—this sense of being thrown off balance, unable to steady himself.

He takes a moment too long to respond, but eventually, he manages to force out a quiet, shaky answer.

"It was..." He swallows, his voice barely above a whisper. "Magical."

The word hangs between them, delicate and uncertain.

Jungkook doesn’t know what Yoongi will say to that—if he’ll scoff, if he’ll brush it off like it’s nothing. But he meant it. The music had been more than just notes strung together. It had been something alive, something felt.

And somehow, in the stillness that follows, he thinks Yoongi understands that.

Yoongi doesn’t scoff. He doesn’t laugh, doesn’t roll his eyes or dismiss Jungkook’s words like they were something foolish. Instead, he hums. Softly. A quiet, low sound, barely there, but Jungkook hears it. He feels it. And somehow, that tiny acknowledgment is enough to make his stomach flip. Then, without another word, Yoongi stands.

Jungkook should do the same. He should push himself up, brush the snow from his clothes, and pretend that nothing about this moment has unsettled him, pretend that nothing about this has changed him. But he can’t. His legs feel weak beneath him. Not because they hurt. Not because of the cold.

But because he is still wrapped up in something unspoken, something fragile, something he doesn’t want to break.

The alpha moves closer.

Jungkook watches as Yoongi turns, setting his guitar down on the bench with careful hands, as if the instrument is something precious. He doesn’t look away from Jungkook, not even once, and Jungkook—foolish, breathless—finds that he can’t look away either.

Somehow, he knows that he shouldn’t.

There’s something about this moment, about the way the wind carries the faint scent of winterberries through the air, about the way the golden light of the late afternoon sun filters through the bare tree branches, casting shadows that stretch long and delicate across the snow.

Something about the way Yoongi sees him.

Jungkook swallows, forcing himself to stay still as the alpha stops in front of him. For a moment, neither of them move. The world feels impossibly quiet, like everything has stilled, like even the trees are holding their breath. Then, without warning, Yoongi crouches.

Jungkook stiffens.

The alpha is suddenly close—closer than he had been before, close enough that Jungkook can see the way his black hair falls over his forehead, the way his breath curls in the cold air. Close enough that Jungkook swears he can hear the steady rhythm of his breathing. Then Yoongi lifts a hand.

Jungkook doesn’t move. The alpha’s fingers hover just inches from him, reaching toward his face, toward his cheek, toward—

Then suddenly, Yoongi hesitates.

His hand stills in midair, fingers curling slightly like he hadn’t meant to do it, like the movement had been unconscious, instinctual, something he had done before but had only just realized. For a split second, Jungkook thinks Yoongi looks almost... startled.

As if he is surprised by his own actions. As if he is surprised by himself. Jungkook doesn’t dare breathe.

The moment lingers, stretching out like something fragile and breakable between them, and Jungkook wonders—if he moved even the slightest bit closer, would Yoongi let himself touch him? Would he pull away? Would he let this moment slip through his fingers, let it become something forgotten, something never spoken of again?

But Jungkook doesn’t move. Neither of them do. They just exist, caught in the space between something known and something unknown. And the only thing Jungkook can think is that he doesn’t want this moment to end.

Jungkook is frozen.

He can’t move, can’t blink, can’t look away. He is stuck in the moment, held captive by something he doesn’t understand, something unspoken and fragile, something that tightens around him like invisible threads, binding him to the alpha in front of him.

And then—Yoongi’s hand moves again.

Slow, deliberate, like he’s made a decision, like the hesitation from before has been cast aside.

Jungkook watches—feels—as Yoongi’s fingers reach him, as they brush against the delicate skin beneath his eye. The touch is barely there, featherlight, but it sends a shiver through him, a sharp inhale catching in his throat.

And only then—only then—does Jungkook realize.

A tear.

Somehow, somewhere between Yoongi’s music and the way he had looked at him—between the quiet, between the weight of this moment—a single tear had slipped free. And Yoongi is wiping it away. Just like Namjoon had done before. But this is different. Namjoon’s touch had been firm, grounding. A reassurance.

Yoongi’s is something else. Something softer. It lingers, just for a second, the warmth of his fingers stark against the chill of Jungkook’s skin. It’s not meant to soothe. It’s not meant to comfort. It’s simply an acknowledgment. And then—it’s gone.

Yoongi’s hand retracts too soon, too suddenly, as if the touch had burned him. And the loss startles Jungkook. A sound escapes him, an almost imperceptible whimper, barely there, barely audible, but it exists, and it is undeniable. How embarrassing.

His entire body tenses, heat rushing to his face, but before he can think, before he can stop himself, he does something he doesn’t expect.

He leans closer.

Just slightly. Just the smallest shift, the slightest tilt forward. It’s unconscious. He doesn’t choose to do it. His body just does. And Yoongi notices. Jungkook sees it—the flicker of something unguarded in those piercing eyes, something brief but unmistakable. A flicker of surprise.

But the alpha doesn’t react. He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t push Jungkook back, doesn’t retreat further than he already has. But he doesn’t touch him again either. Instead, Yoongi huffs softly, a quiet exhale, a barely-there sound that isn’t sharp, isn’t mocking. It’s something else. Something pleased.

Jungkook can feel Yoongi’s gaze on him, sharp and assessing, as if the alpha is picking apart every little thing about him—his trembling hands, the way he keeps his shoulders hunched, how he’s doing everything in his power not to let his teeth chatter. He tries to suppress the shivers wracking through him, but it’s useless. The cold has already settled deep into his bones, numbing his fingers even through Seokjin’s gloves.

Yoongi sighs. It’s soft but heavy, and before Jungkook can fully process it, something warm and weighty is draping over his shoulders. Thick fabric, lined with fur. Yoongi’s coat.

Jungkook stiffens. His fingers twitch, his breath catching in his throat. The warmth is immediate, enveloping him entirely, making him feel—small. Like he’s being wrapped in something safe, something solid. The sensation is foreign, unfamiliar.

“I—” His voice comes out thin, barely a sound.

“Just keep it on.” Yoongi’s tone is gruff, but not unkind. “You’ll freeze otherwise.”

Jungkook swallows, unsure of what to say, unsure if he even can say anything. Instead, he lowers his gaze, staring at the thick fabric now shielding him from the cold. His fingers move on their own, curling around the edges, pulling it tighter around himself. He shouldn’t, but he does.

The silence stretches between them, not awkward but fragile, delicate in a way that makes Jungkook hyperaware of every sound—the soft rustling of the winterberry trees, the faintest whistle of the wind, the quiet, steady breathing of the alpha beside him. It’s a silence that feels… safe. And that’s the strangest part of all.

Then, Yoongi shifts slightly, exhaling. “You shouldn’t sit in the snow like that. It’s stupid.”

The words catch Jungkook off guard, and before he can stop himself, he huffs, turning to glare at the older man. Yoongi isn’t looking at him, but there’s something there—the tiniest smirk, like he’s amused.

Jungkook’s glare deepens. “I just wanted to listen,” he mutters, defensive. Then, quieter, “Didn’t want to interrupt.”

Yoongi hums, as if considering something. His fingers tap lightly against his knee, slow, rhythmic. Then, after a pause, he says simply, “You weren’t interrupting.”

Jungkook blinks. 

It’s such a small thing, but it feels like something more. Like permission. Like an unspoken invitation. Like Jungkook is allowed to be here. Something unfamiliar unfurls in his chest—warm, cautious, unsure of itself. It lingers, even as he looks away, his fingers still curled around the oversized coat wrapped around him.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t need to. His presence is steady, unwavering. And somehow, for reasons Jungkook can’t quite explain, it’s enough. The alpha's voice is calm, steady, leaving no room for argument. “Come with me.”

Jungkook hesitates, blinking up at him. His body feels sluggish, weighed down by the cold, but he nods anyway. He shifts, trying to push himself up from the snow, but the moment he straightens, his legs wobble, unsteady beneath him. The cold has seeped too deep, weakening him, and before he can catch himself—

Strong hands grip his arms. Warm. Secure.

Jungkook gasps, instinctively grabbing onto Yoongi’s forearms for balance. His heart leaps up to his throat, hammering wildly as he realizes just how close they are. Close enough that he can feel the warmth radiating from the alpha’s body.

Jungkook’s face burns. He drops his gaze immediately, ears turning crimson as he mutters, “S-Sorry.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything right away, just watches him before exhaling softly. His hands loosen their grip, sliding away, but not before Jungkook catches the way his fingers hesitate, just for a second, as if reluctant to let go.

Then, without a word, Yoongi crouches down, reaching for the crutches that had fallen onto the snow. He dusts them off, standing back up before holding them out.

“Here,” he says simply.

Jungkook takes them, still avoiding the alpha’s gaze, fingers curling tightly around the worn handles. His heart is still racing, his face still burning.

Yoongi tilts his head slightly, studying him before motioning towards the stone bench. “Come on. We’ll sit over there.”

Jungkook exhales shakily, nodding. His body still feels weak, but this time, when he takes a step forward, he doesn’t stumble.

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably on the bench, his fingers twisting together in his lap as he stares down at them. The silence between him and Yoongi isn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it carries a weight he can’t ignore. The warmth of the alpha’s presence is close beside him, grounding and steady, and yet, Jungkook can’t shake the feeling that he has overstepped. That he shouldn’t have stayed, shouldn’t have listened without permission.

He takes a breath, gathering what little courage he has left, and finally forces the words out. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. He keeps his eyes lowered, unable to look at Yoongi as he speaks. “I shouldn’t have stayed. I should’ve left as soon as I realized you were playing. I… I didn’t mean to intrude.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the soft rustling of the wind through the trees, the distant chirping of winter birds. And then—

“I knew you were there,” Yoongi says simply.

Jungkook’s head snaps up, eyes wide. “You… what?”

Yoongi’s gaze is calm, unwavering, like this is something completely natural to say. “I recognized your scent,” he explains, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I knew you were there the moment you arrived.”

Jungkook blinks, startled by the revelation. Yoongi had known he was there?

“You—” He swallows, trying to find his voice. “Then why…?”

Yoongi tilts his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “If I didn’t want you to hear, I would’ve stopped playing.”

Jungkook swallows, trying to make sense of the quiet weight of that realization. He sneaks a glance at Yoongi, the alpha’s profile carved in stillness, his breath visible in the cold air. There’s something calming about him, something that makes Jungkook feel less like an intruder and more like—he doesn’t even know what. He’s not sure if he wants to know, afraid of what it might mean.

His fingers tighten in the fabric of the coat as he processes it, the warmth in his chest growing stronger. He drops his gaze again, trying to gather himself, but his heart is still pounding, his face still burning.

Still, he finds himself speaking again, words spilling before he can stop them. “Your music…” He hesitates, curling into himself just a little, shy but wanting to be honest. “It was beautiful. I’ve never heard anything like it.” His voice is quiet, nearly swallowed by the winter air, but he knows Yoongi hears him.

Yoongi doesn’t react right away. He stays still, but his fingers twitch slightly where they rest on his lap. Then, he hums, a soft, thoughtful sound. “You listened for a long time,” he murmurs, turning his gaze back to Jungkook. His eyes hold something deep and searching. “What did it make you feel?”

Jungkook stills, breath catching slightly. He hadn’t expected the question. His instinct is to shrink back, to hide from the intensity of Yoongi’s attention, but something about the moment feels too fragile to ruin with hesitation. So he answers.

“Warm,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “Like… like longing. Like something important, something precious.” His fingers twist together in his lap, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “It felt like love.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then—something in Yoongi shifts. His lips part just slightly, his breath hitching in the cold. Jungkook thinks he might have surprised him, though the alpha’s expression remains carefully neutral. But there’s something in his eyes now, something that makes Jungkook’s chest tighten.

Yoongi doesn’t deny it. He doesn’t scoff or brush it off. Instead, he leans back slightly, exhaling a slow breath. His voice is quiet when he finally speaks.

“…Good,” he says simply.

Jungkook frowns, confused. “Good?”

Yoongi’s lips twitch at the corners, the tiniest hint of something amused but not mocking. “That’s what I was playing,” he says, tilting his head slightly. “Love. For my mates, for music…”

Jungkook’s breath catches. He doesn’t know why those words affect him so much, why they send a shiver through him that has nothing to do with the cold. He doesn’t understand why his heart is beating so fast.

But he knows one thing. He wants to hear Yoongi play again.

The snow begins to fall gently, slow and deliberate, as if it knows not to disturb the moment they are sharing. Tiny snowflakes dance in the air before settling onto Yoongi’s dark hair, stark against the inky strands. Jungkook watches, transfixed, before he even realizes what he’s doing.

His hand lifts on its own, gloved fingers reaching forward, brushing away the delicate flakes that have gathered near Yoongi’s temple. The moment is fleeting, a soft stroke through his wavy locks, and then Jungkook catches himself. His breath stutters, and he snatches his hand back as if burned.

Yoongi doesn’t react immediately. He simply watches Jungkook with those intense, knowing eyes, unreadable yet piercing all the same. The alpha doesn’t seem surprised, nor does he pull away. Instead, he speaks, his voice as quiet as the snowfall around them.

“You were sitting in a patch of snowdrops.”

Jungkook blinks, thrown by the sudden statement. He tilts his head slightly, confusion evident in the crease between his brows. “The white flowers?”

Yoongi nods, his gaze shifting briefly to the ground where Jungkook had been sitting not long ago. The cluster of delicate white blossoms remains untouched, peeking through the frost, resilient even against the cold.

“They can mean a lot of things,” Yoongi continues, his voice slow, thoughtful. His gaze returns to Jungkook then, something almost knowing flickering behind his eyes. “But mostly, they symbolize innocence.” A pause. “And hope.”

Jungkook exhales, breath curling in the cold air. Innocence and hope. He doesn’t know why the words make his chest feel tight, why they linger in the air between them like something unspoken, something meant to be understood without being said aloud.

For a moment, neither of them speak. The only sound is the distant whisper of the wind through the trees, the occasional rustle of branches under the weight of fresh snow. The air is thick with something Jungkook can’t name. Something that feels warm despite the cold, something that tugs at his heart, soft and unexpected.

He doesn’t dare ask what Yoongi means by it. Doesn’t dare break whatever fragile understanding has settled between them. So instead, he nods, barely perceptible, and watches as another snowflake lands in Yoongi’s hair. This time, he doesn’t reach out.

Jungkook glances around the garden, his eyes drifting over the abundance of flowers blanketing the ground despite the season. The colors stand out vividly against the snow, a quiet defiance of winter’s usual barrenness. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen before. Back home, winter had always meant dull landscapes, frost-covered streets, and lifeless branches. But here, in the heart of this hidden garden, it feels as though spring has carved out a secret refuge for itself.

“This place…” Jungkook murmurs, his voice quiet as if afraid to disturb the magic of it. “It’s beautiful.” Yoongi hums in response, not quite a thank you, but an acknowledgment nonetheless. Jungkook turns toward him, curiosity swirling in his chest. “Is it yours?”

The alpha shifts slightly where he sits, his gaze sweeping across the landscape before landing back on Jungkook. “Yeah,” he says simply. “It’s mine.”

Jungkook blinks, surprised. Somehow, it makes sense. The peace of the place, the quiet beauty—it feels like Yoongi. Like the softness he keeps hidden beneath sharp edges. Still, the sight is something Jungkook can’t quite understand. “But the flowers…” he starts, looking around again. “It’s the middle of winter. I’ve never seen so many flowers bloom this time of year.”

“They’re all winter-blooming,” Yoongi explains. His voice is low, steady, but there’s something almost fond in the way he speaks about them. “But they’re more resilient on shifter land.”

Jungkook turns back to him, tilting his head slightly. “Why?”

Yoongi leans back against the stone bench, his fingers idly toying with the strap of his guitar case. “Because our territory is blessed,” he says simply. “The land here is linked to the Moon Goddess, to her energy. Things thrive differently here.”

Jungkook’s lips part slightly in understanding. He had heard bits and pieces of shifter lore since coming to the village, but hearing Yoongi speak about it so casually—so matter-of-fact—feels different. More real.

His gaze drifts down to the nearest cluster of flowers, their delicate petals untouched by frost. The sight tugs at something in him, a quiet sort of wonder. “Do you know their names?” he asks, looking up at Yoongi again.

Yoongi’s eyes flicker toward him, assessing, before shifting to the flowers. He nods. “Yeah.” Jungkook waits as the alpha lets a few seconds of silence pass before speaking again.

“The blue ones,” Yoongi starts, gesturing subtly, “are cornflowers and scillas.”

Jungkook follows his gaze, eyes landing on the deep blue blossoms standing proudly among the frost.

“The pink ones—cyclamens and primroses.”

His attention moves to the soft pink hues scattered across the garden, their petals curled slightly, as if caught mid-bloom.

“The purple ones—crocus and violas.”

Jungkook takes in the small, clustered petals, delicate but vivid against the snow.

“And the yellow ones,” Yoongi finishes, “are daffodils and winter jasmines.”

Jungkook exhales, eyes roaming over the collection of colors again, now armed with their names. They feel even more alive now, as if they’re no longer just flowers but something more—stories waiting to be told.

Yoongi doesn’t speak again, letting the quiet settle between them. Jungkook, for once, doesn’t feel the need to fill it. Instead, he lets himself take it in—the garden, the moment, the presence of the alpha beside him.

Jungkook lowers his gaze, letting it wander over the petals of the blue flowers Yoongi had named just moments ago—cornflowers and scillas. The color stands out so vividly against the white snow, deep and rich, like little pools of frozen sky.

“I’ve never seen blue flowers before,” he says softly, more to himself than to Yoongi. “I think… I think I really like the color blue.”

It’s only when Yoongi turns to look at him that Jungkook realizes what he’s just said. His heart stutters in his chest.

Because blue. Yoongi’s eyes are blue.

Not just any blue, but the most mesmerizing shade Jungkook has ever seen. The kind that looks cold at first, like the depths of an untouched lake in winter, but the longer you look, the more you notice the warmth hidden beneath. Like the sky before sunrise. Like something endless.

Jungkook feels heat crawl up his neck, his face flushing as the realization crashes into him. And then, before he can stop himself, he blurts out the words that send his stomach flipping.

“Maybe the prettiest shade of blue I’ve ever seen.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen, not subtly, but dramatically, in a way that’s almost comical. As if the words have physically knocked the air out of him.

Jungkook freezes.

Oh. Oh no.

Had he just said that out loud?

He had.

He definitely had.

His mortification must be obvious because Yoongi quickly reins in his expression, schooling his features back into something more neutral. But Jungkook had seen it—had seen the momentary surprise, the flicker of something unreadable in the depths of the alpha’s gaze.

Jungkook’s entire body tenses, his hands gripping his gloves tightly in his lap. “I—I didn’t mean—” He swallows, voice coming out rushed and flustered. “I mean, I did mean it, but I didn’t mean to say it—”

He stops himself before he can dig the hole even deeper, pressing his lips together in frustration. Then, desperate to recover, he quickly shifts the subject. “It’s just that—I’ve never seen eyes like yours before. Or anyone’s here, really.”

Yoongi tilts his head slightly, still watching him.

“I mean,” Jungkook stammers, gripping the edge of his coat now, trying not to let his embarrassment swallow him whole. “People back home don’t have—colors like that.”

Yoongi hums, finally breaking eye contact to glance back toward the garden, as if giving Jungkook a moment to collect himself.

And Jungkook does—tries, at least.

But his heart is still racing, and the heat in his cheeks refuses to fade.

The silence stretches between them, but it isn’t uncomfortable. It lingers like the soft snowfall around them, quiet and gentle, allowing Jungkook to settle in the moment. His fingers twist together in his lap, still feeling the lingering heat of his own embarrassment. He doesn’t dare meet Yoongi’s gaze again, afraid that one look might set his face ablaze all over again.

Then, movement.

Jungkook looks up just as Yoongi rises from the bench. The alpha steps forward, boots crunching lightly over the snow, and crouches down near the patch of blue flowers in front of them. His fingers are careful, delicate even, as he plucks a single bloom from the cluster of scillas.

Jungkook watches, mesmerized, his breath catching in his throat when Yoongi turns back toward him.

The alpha says nothing as he moves closer, standing before him now, looking down with that same steady expression. And then—before Jungkook can even process it—Yoongi reaches out, hand lifting toward his face. Jungkook's heart nearly leaps out of his chest.

Because Yoongi’s fingers brush against his hair, just barely, tucking the tiny blue flower into the strands above his ear.

Jungkook freezes.

His breath stutters.

His eyes must be comically wide right now, round with disbelief, because Yoongi’s lips twitch just slightly, as if amused by his reaction. But he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, his voice is calm, even, when he finally speaks.

“Scillas mean loyalty.”

Loyalty.

Jungkook swallows, unable to form words, unable to do anything but stare.

The word settles deep in his chest, warm despite the cold that still clings to his damp clothes. And for a moment, they simply look at each other, the space between them quiet, charged with something Jungkook can’t quite put a name to.

Then Yoongi exhales softly, breaking the moment. His gaze flickers over Jungkook’s form, lingering on the damp patches of his coat and pants. “You should go back to the infirmary,” he says, his voice a little firmer now. “Your clothes are wet, and I can see you shaking.”

Jungkook, who hadn’t even realized how cold he was until Yoongi pointed it out, quickly nods. He moves to stand, hands reaching for the coat still draped over his shoulders.

“Oh—here,” he mumbles, already beginning to slip it off. “Your coat, I—”

But before he can, Yoongi stops him with a look.

“Keep it,” the alpha says simply. 

Jungkook's fingers tighten around the fabric, lips parting slightly in surprise. He doesn’t know what to say, so he just nods, gripping the coat a little tighter as he follows Yoongi’s lead, heart still racing in his chest.

Jungkook's heart races a little faster as he pulls the coat tighter around himself, the warmth of it settling over his shoulders like a shield. His hands shake slightly as he clutches it, but it feels different now—comforting, safe even. Yoongi’s words, though simple, linger in his mind like a soft whisper.

Jungkook’s voice is barely a whisper, but it carries the weight of his gratitude. "Thank you," he says, his words sincere, full of warmth.

Yoongi's lips curve into a soft smile, the kind that tugs at the edges of his usually stoic expression. “Hurry up, or you’ll catch a cold,” he replies, his voice carrying a gentle yet playful firmness, as though he’s looking out for him.

Jungkook nods quickly, a small, shy smile tugging at his own lips as he picks up his crutches, feeling the heat of Yoongi’s presence behind him. It’s not just the warmth of the coat that keeps him steady, it’s the feeling of Yoongi’s quiet care wrapping around him like a second layer,

shielding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

Jungkook takes a final breath, inhaling the crisp air that still carries the lingering scent of the garden behind him. He steps forward, the soft crunch of the snow beneath his boots the only sound that fills the quiet. As he moves away from Yoongi’s garden, he feels a strange sense of reluctance tug at him—like leaving behind a small piece of peace he didn’t realize he’d found. 

The garden fades behind him, its vibrant colors and quiet serenity replaced by the colder, more open expanse ahead. But even as he steps into the chill of the air beyond, something about the warmth of Yoongi's presence remains, like a comforting shadow that follows him.

Jungkook takes another deep breath, feeling both lighter and more grounded than he has in days, and continues onward.

Notes:

I finally wrapped up editing the second part today! ✨

Yoongi really is just a softie, isn’t he? All about his music and flowers—how adorable. 🌸🎶 It’s honestly so cute how whipped Jungkook is for him. 😌💕

See y'all ! 👋

Chapter 20: When Stars Align

Summary:

Jungkook's walk takes an unexpected twist.

The infirmary is warm, the soft glow of the lanterns casting flickering shadows against the wooden walls. The contrast against the chill of the outside air makes Jungkook shiver slightly as he closes the door behind him. He moves slowly, unbuttoning his damp coat and draping it carefully over the chair near the small fireplace to dry. His fingers brush against the fabric, momentarily lingering, before he exhales and turns toward his bed.

The moment he sits, his body sags slightly, exhaustion creeping in—not just from the cold but from everything that had happened today. His thoughts swirl, a gentle storm of emotions he can’t quite untangle yet.

Yoongi.

Jungkook bites his lip, his gaze dropping to his hands in his lap. He thinks back to the quiet moments they had shared in the garden, the gentle strumming of Yoongi’s guitar filling the air, the way the alpha had looked in the soft winter light—eyes closed, lost in his own world. The way his fingers had brushed against Jungkook’s cheek, wiping away that stray tear. The way he had plucked a flower and tucked it into his hair.

Jungkook had been afraid of him, at first.

More than Namjoon, even.

Yoongi had been cold, distant, his sharp eyes unreadable, his presence almost suffocating in its intensity. But now… now Jungkook wasn’t so sure. He no longer felt that fear creeping up his spine whenever Yoongi was near. It had been replaced by something else entirely—something softer, something warmer.

He was starting to see through the hard exterior, through the unspoken walls Yoongi had built around himself.

And, maybe, just maybe, he wanted to see more.

Jungkook exhales, shaking his head slightly as he stands. He doesn’t want to sit here, lost in his thoughts, not when there’s still daylight left, not when the world outside still feels so new and waiting to be explored.

With a quiet sigh, he peels off the layers of damp clothes, the fabric slipping from his shoulders. The warmth of the room wrapped around him as he reached for a soft, oversized sweater. He pulls it over his head, the thick material settling comfortably against his frame, engulfing him in warmth.

Next, he tugs on a pair of loose sweatpants, the fabric soft against his legs. He runs a hand through his slightly tousled hair, breathing in deeply, trying to steady himself.

His gaze falls onto Yoongi’s coat, still resting on the chair. Without thinking, he picks it up, pulling it around his shoulders. The fabric is thick, warm, grounding in a way that makes his stomach twist with something unfamiliar.

His fingers lift to his hair, brushing against the tiny blue flower still nestled there. He doesn’t take it out.

With a small breath, he makes his way to the door, pushing it open and stepping out into the crisp air once more, ready to see where his feet will take him next.

The snow crunches beneath his boots grounding him as he takes a deep breath of crisp winter air. A pale sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows over the village, its golden light catching on the frost-covered rooftops and glistening icicles that hang from the eaves. The world outside is quiet in a way that feels peaceful rather than lonely, the sounds of the village a soft murmur in the distance—voices carrying through the cold, the occasional bark of a dog, the distant chopping of wood.

For the first time in what feels like forever, his chest doesn’t feel so tight, his shoulders don’t carry the weight of fear. He’s not sure when it happened, not sure at what point the unease in his gut had started to fade, but it’s gone now, replaced by something new. A kind of warmth that has nothing to do with the thick coat draped over his shoulders, a solid reminder of the safety that has been so freely given to him here.

Maybe it’s because of Seokjin and Hoseok, who have done nothing but welcome him with kindness, never making him feel like a burden, always quick to offer a smile or a comforting word. Maybe it’s because of the people he’s met, strangers who haven’t treated him like an outsider but rather like someone who belongs. Maybe it’s because of Namjoon, the pack alpha who, despite his mistrust, has been gentle with him, guiding him through the village with patience, sharing pieces of himself that Jungkook never expected. Or maybe it’s because of Yoongi, the enigmatic alpha who had allowed Jungkook into a moment of quiet intimacy, whose music had painted pictures in silence, whose hands had brushed away a tear with surprising tenderness.

Or maybe, Jungkook thinks, it’s all of it. Maybe it’s a mix of everything.

He feels safe here.

Safe from the wilderness, where he had been nothing more than prey, running for his life. Safe from the village he had called home, where Sungil’s presence had been a looming threat, an inevitable force that had dictated every part of his life. Safe from the past that had held him captive, wrapped in chains of fear and obligation.

Here, he is allowed to breathe.

The thought alone is overwhelming. Freedom—true freedom—is something he had never known before. Back home, every step had been dictated by responsibility, every action weighed down by expectation. Even when he had wandered the village, it had been for a purpose: fetching water, gathering supplies, delivering goods. Here, no one tells him where to go. No one expects him to be anywhere but where he chooses to be.

It’s a strange, unfamiliar kind of relief, one that sits deep in his chest, unfurling slowly like a flower greeting the first touch of sunlight. He lets himself savor it.

That’s why he keeps walking. Because he can. Because no one is going to stop him or call him back or remind him of what he owes. Because, for the first time in his life, he has the freedom to move at his own pace, to choose where he wants to go.

The snow crunches softly beneath his steps as he moves forward, the wind carrying the distant scent of burning wood and pine. He inhales deeply, letting the crisp air fill his lungs. His ankle still aches, a dull reminder of what he’s been through, but it’s a small price to pay for the comfort he’s found here. He wonders if it will last—if this feeling, this warmth, will stay with him. Or if, like all good things, it will eventually slip through his fingers.

Jungkook doesn’t want to think about that. Not now. Not when the village hums with quiet life around him, not when he feels the most at peace he’s been in years. So, instead, he continues walking, choosing another unknown path, letting himself have this moment of unburdened existence. Just for today, he allows himself to be free.

He doesn’t have a destination in mind, but that doesn’t matter. He follows the winding paths between the snow-covered huts, his crutches steady beneath his hands, the cold air refreshing against his skin. The village is alive in a way that feels warm despite the winter chill—children running past with red noses and bright laughter, elders standing by their porches exchanging words, the smell of burning firewood filling the air.

Eventually, he finds himself on a broader path, one that leads out of the village rather than deeper into it. The further he walks, the quieter it gets. The trees grow thicker, their branches heavy with snow, creating a canopy above him that lets through only fragments of the fading sunlight. The air is crisp, untouched, and Jungkook inhales deeply, savoring it. Snowflakes begin to fall again, drifting lazily through the air, melting against his cheeks.

And then, faintly, he hears it—voices, laughter carried by the wind.

Curious, he presses forward, following the sound until the path opens up into a wide clearing. He stops, taking in the sight before him. It’s the entrance to the village, but more than that, it’s a gathering place—where people are moving about, talking cheerfully, their faces alight with something Jungkook can’t quite place yet.

He hesitates at the edge of the clearing, his heart thrumming in his chest. The warmth in his chest expands just a little more.

He doesn’t turn back.

The open area before him is alive with movement, a stark contrast to the quiet solitude of the path he had taken. The entrance to the village is marked by a sturdy wooden arch, its beams wrapped in evergreen branches and small charms that sway gently in the cold wind.

Beyond it, several villagers stand in clusters, their voices a mix of chatter and laughter, warm despite the freezing air. Their faces are flushed from the cold, but their smiles are genuine, their postures relaxed. It’s a sight Jungkook hasn’t grown used to yet—so many people gathered in ease, without tension, without fear.

For a moment, he hesitates at the edge of the clearing, suddenly uncertain. He’s still wearing Yoongi’s coat, the flower still tucked into his hair, and while no one has really made him feel unwelcome, there's always that lingering doubt at the back of his mind. But before he can turn away, something catches his eye.

A few feet ahead, a small group of children are playing in the snow, their laughter ringing through the crisp air. They’re rolling up large balls of snow, their tiny hands moving quickly, stacking them on top of each other to form a slightly lopsided snowman. One child, a little pup with chubby cheeks and a thick woolen scarf wrapped almost comically high around his face, suddenly notices Jungkook standing there. His eyes widen in recognition, and then, to Jungkook’s surprise, he waves enthusiastically.

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard, before hesitantly raising a hand in response. The action draws the attention of a few other villagers, some of whom glance his way before returning to their conversations. Some simply nod in acknowledgment. Others don’t seem to notice him at all, too focused on their tasks. The normalcy of it all is oddly comforting. No one is staring. No one is whispering about him. He is just… here. Standing at the entrance of the village as if he belongs.

The realization makes something unfamiliar bloom in his chest—something warm, despite the cold that continues to nip at his skin. Curious now, Jungkook takes another step forward, letting the atmosphere of the village entrance pull him in.

The air is filled with hushed excitement, the villagers’ voices carrying over the gentle wind as Jungkook approaches. He isn’t sure what he’s walking into, but the atmosphere thrums with something almost tangible—anticipation, relief, maybe even joy. It makes him hesitate, unsure if he should intrude on whatever moment this is. But curiosity tugs at him, pulling him forward step by careful step.

He moves slowly, mindful of the snow beneath him and the weight of his crutches, doing his best not to disturb anyone. The villagers seem to notice him, but instead of regarding him with wariness, they shift instinctively to make space for him, parting just enough for him to weave through. It’s such a small thing, but it makes something warm bloom in his chest. He isn’t being turned away.

As he draws closer, familiar faces come into focus—Seokjin and Hoseok standing near the front, their expressions bright with relief. Namjoon is there too, standing tall and composed, though Jungkook can see the subtle way his shoulders relax as he listens to someone. And then there’s Yoongi, quiet and unreadable, but present nonetheless.

Jungkook’s breath catches slightly. A group of hunters must have returned. That’s what he gathers from the way the shifters are conversing with them, their postures open, their voices eager. But beyond that, Jungkook knows so little. He doesn’t even know who exactly is a hunter in the village. He only recognizes a few faces, but even then, they’re just fleeting impressions, figures that exist in the periphery of his new reality.

His gaze sweeps over the crowd, watching as the returning shifters exchange greetings, hands clasping forearms, pats on backs given in wordless reassurance. He wonders where they had been, what dangers they had faced beyond the safe borders of the village. Had they gone deep into the wilderness? Had they seen the same harsh world he had barely escaped from?

Jungkook watches in silence, his heart unknowingly tightening as Yoongi embraces one of the shifters. The hug is tight, almost desperate, full of relief and an unspoken kind of love that makes Jungkook feel like he's intruding on something far too intimate.

He can’t see the other person’s face from where he stands, hidden behind a crowd of villagers and the soft fall of snowflakes, but the gesture says everything. Namjoon is in the same situation, his arms wrapped around another figure that Jungkook can’t quite make out. The voices around him are unfamiliar, yet something about them feels almost... familiar, like an echo of something he’s heard in a dream, or a memory he’s long since buried.

He’s sure he doesn’t know them, yet he’s certain there’s a part of him that recognizes them, somewhere deep inside.

As the snow begins to fall harder, Jungkook moves to the front of the crowd, stepping carefully around people, trying to remain unseen, but curiosity pulling him closer. He wants to know who these people are—why they’re so important, why the reunion feels so significant to everyone. He doesn’t understand, but the desire to see, to know, pushes him forward, urging him closer.

And then, as the snowflakes dance heavier around him, his breath catching in his chest, he finally sees it. Something he’s seen in countless dreams during restless nights. Something he thought he’s never see again.

Jungkook freezes in place, his heart stuttering painfully in his chest. It’s like time has stopped, his whole world narrowing down to one impossible truth.

Amber eyes.

There, before him, warm amber eyes meeting Jungkook’s from across the crowd. Eyes that Jungkook could never forget, no matter how much time had passed, no matter how far he had tried to bury the memory of them.

For a moment, everything blurs together—the shifter’s face, the snow, the people around them. The cold doesn’t reach him, not when his heart is racing this fast. His breath catches, and suddenly, his legs give out beneath him. The crutches fall from his hands and land with a soft thud in the snow as his knees hit the cold earth. He doesn’t even feel the sting of it. The only thing he feels is the overwhelming tide of emotions crashing over him all at once.

Tears start to form in his eyes, falling quickly, faster than he can comprehend. It’s not sadness, not at all. It’s relief, shock, joy. It’s everything he didn’t realize he had been holding onto for so long, emotions that had remained dormant, buried beneath the surface of his skin, now flooding out like a dam breaking open.

He had never imagined this moment would come. He had never thought he’d see them again, not after everything. Not after how far apart they’d been, how much time had passed. He had long since convinced himself that it had been a memory in order to stay sane. That it was a piece of his past that he could never get back. And now it’s too much to take in.

Jungkook’s breath hitches as his chest tightens painfully, tears slipping down his face uncontrollably. He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know if he should stand, run, or scream. He can’t even bring himself to look away, because he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want this moment to end, not when it feels like everything he’s ever wanted is standing right in front of him.

The tears come harder now, a sob escaping from Jungkook’s chest as his body trembles. He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t say anything.

All he can do is stare at the amber eyes that had been so scared, so pained a few months ago. And in that moment, he’s no longer sure where the past ends and the present begins. Everything feels like it’s collapsing in on itself, every lost hope, every forgotten promise, all of it rushing back to him in the blink of an eye.

But this time, it doesn’t hurt. This time, it feels like relief. A long-awaited reunion that he never thought would happen.

Jungkook feels the weight of the entire village's attention on him, but it all fades into the background, swallowed by the pull of those amber eyes. Eyes that are locked onto him with a fierce intensity, as if the world had stopped moving just to create this moment between them. His heart stutters in his chest, thundering so loudly he can almost hear it over the soft hum of the falling snow. He doesn’t need to ask.

He doesn’t need to question the recognition in those eyes. He knows. It’s him. The russet wolf, the one he had freed from the hunters in his village.

The moment stretches, bending the space between them, and Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t even feel the cold ground against his knees, as if his body had just surrendered to the overwhelming rush of emotion flooding through him. His chest tightens, but he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

And then, without warning, the shifter is moving—running towards him with a speed that steals the breath from his lungs. It’s as if the world itself couldn’t hold him back, couldn’t allow him another second away from him. The snow flurries around them, swirling in the air as time seems to freeze. The distance between them vanishes in an instant.

When the shifter finally reaches him, everything else fades into a blur. The shifter kneels in front of Jungkook, his eyes never once breaking contact, and Jungkook finds himself lost in them—drowned in the depth of that gaze. His hands tremble violently, as if unsure where to go, before finally cupping Jungkook’s cheeks, gently but with an urgency that shakes him to his core.

Jungkook can’t speak. He can’t do anything except sit there, unable to move, unable to breathe. His heart flutters in his chest, overwhelmed by the weight of the connection, by the raw emotion pouring from the shifter. More tears spill from Jungkook’s eyes before he even realizes. The shifter’s touch is delicate, wiping them away with shaking hands as if Jungkook’s tears are the most precious thing in the world. His forehead presses against Jungkook’s, the contact so gentle it might shatter him if he weren’t already broken.

“Jungkook,” the shifter murmurs through his tears, his voice thick with relief, a soft rasp that carries the weight of years spent apart. “Jungkook, you... You’re safe. You’re here. You’re here.”

The words crack like thunder through Jungkook’s heart. He doesn’t know if the shifter is talking to him or to himself, if he’s trying to convince them both that this is real. But it doesn’t matter. Because for the first time, it feels like everything that was broken, everything that was lost, is slowly coming back together. Jungkook leans into the touch, closing his eyes as the shifter’s warmth surrounds him. The world doesn’t exist outside of this moment—outside of this connection.

The snow continues to fall around them, but it’s as though it doesn’t matter. They don’t need anything else. Not when they’re together.

The shifter’s arms wrap around Jungkook, pulling him so close, so tightly, that for a moment, it feels like his very bones are being crushed. But it’s a comfort he never thought he’d have again, a warmth he thought he’d lost forever. He feels the shifter’s chest tremble against his own, the sound of the sobs that wrack through him, as if the mere act of holding Jungkook is the release of all the pain he had been carrying. Jungkook’s heart cracks, but it doesn’t break. Instead, it swells with something indescribable, something fierce and tender all at once.

He opens his eyes, blinking through the tears as they spill relentlessly down his cheeks, and that’s when he sees them—Yoongi and Namjoon. They’re standing a little ways off, both of them frozen in shock. Yoongi’s usually hard, cold demeanor is shattered, his eyes wide with disbelief. Namjoon, strong and composed, is equally taken aback, his lips parted in surprise, as if he can’t quite process what he’s seeing.

Seokjin and Hoseok stand by their sides, equally bewildered, their gazes flickering between Jungkook and the shifter. Jungkook feels the weight of their stares, but they don’t matter. Not now. Not when everything is falling apart and coming together all at once.

The shifter holding him doesn’t let go, doesn’t release him for a second, even as his sobs grow louder. Jungkook can feel the shifter’s hands shaking against his back, as though they can’t believe he’s real, as though they can’t believe he’s really here. But then, as Jungkook’s vision begins to blur, something catches his eye.

Another figure, on his left this time, also on their knees. A figure he recognizes—those bright green eyes that had once been filled with terror, with hurt, with confusion. Eyes that had haunted Jungkook’s dreams. The white wolf. His heart lurches in his chest, and the world around him seems to stop.

The white wolf’s eyes are wide, filled with so much emotion it makes Jungkook’s chest tighten. Surprise, yes. But there’s something else, too. Something deeper, something more raw. And then, Jungkook realizes. They’re here. Both of them. His wolves. The ones he’d risked everything to save. The ones he thought he’d never see again. 

Tears fill his eyes again, but this time, it’s different. It’s a release. A dam breaking within him. He reaches out instinctively, his hands trembling as he grabs for the white wolf’s arms. He needs to feel the warmth of his embrace, to know that this is real. That they are real. The white wolf doesn’t hesitate. Without a moment’s pause, he pulls him close, wrapping him in his arms just as tightly as the russet wolf had.

Jungkook cries, his sobs coming in harsh, ragged gasps as he buries his face in the shifter’s chest. He can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, against his cheek. He can feel the shifter’s own tears, wet against his skin, as he holds him with an intensity that makes Jungkook’s heart swell with something that feels like relief, like salvation.

The world outside of this moment fades. The snow falls harder, the village and its people forgotten in the distance. All that matters, all that has ever mattered, is that Jungkook is not alone. Not anymore.

His wolves have found their families.

Jungkook’s breath hitches, tears still streaming down his face, blurring his vision. The sobs that wrack his body feel like they could tear him apart, but at the same time, they’re a release. He tries to speak, but the words get caught in his throat, tangled with the grief, the guilt, and the overwhelming relief. His heart races, not from fear, but from the raw intensity of the moment.

He pulls them closer again, both of them still trembling with emotion. His arms shake as he wraps them around the shifters, holding them as tightly as he can, as though he can erase the pain they’ve been carrying. His chest tightens when he hears the shifter with amber eyes say his name again, his voice full of so much love, so much regret. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, fighting the wave of emotions crashing over him.

“You’ve made it,” Jungkook whispers again, the words breaking through the storm of emotions inside him. “You found your family.”

And when he says it, it feels like he’s telling himself, too. 

The russet wolf cries harder, the sound of his sorrow making Jungkook’s heart ache. The white wolf beside him clutches him even tighter, and Jungkook feels the warmth of their hands, the heat of their bodies, and it feels like the first real comfort he’s known in years. Their presence grounds him, even though the weight of their presence is almost unbearable.

When the two shifters pull back, Jungkook reluctantly lets them go, but his hands remain on their arms, keeping them close. They look at him with such desperation, such sorrow in their eyes, and he can’t help but feel like he’s the one who should be apologizing. They shouldn’t be crying for him.

“Pup… you’re here, you ran away,” the russet wolf says, his voice cracking as he cups Jungkook’s face, wiping away the tears that still fall freely.

Jungkook shakes his head, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. “I had to... I couldn’t stay. I... I had to get away from them.” The words are barely a whisper, but they hang heavily in the air, full of the years of pain and fear he’d been carrying. He tries to explain, to make them understand, but the words don’t do justice to the experience, to everything he’s been through.

“We’ve regretted not making you come with us every single day,” the white wolf says, and his voice is so soft, so full of sorrow, that it makes Jungkook’s chest ache even more. “Every day we thought about you.”

Jungkook swallows hard, his heart trembling as he tries to absorb their words. They had thought about him? All this time, they had carried him with them in their hearts, and he hadn’t known. He hadn’t known that they regretted leaving him behind, regretted not taking him with them. He wants to tell them that it’s okay, that they couldn’t have known what would happen, that it’s not their fault. 

“Every day we wanted to go back for you,” the russet wolf adds, his voice thick with emotion. Jungkook looks up at him, his hands trembling as they grip the shifter’s arms.

“You saved us, Pup,” the white wolf continues, his voice barely a whisper. “And we left you... to return to those monsters.” His breath shudders as he says it, his eyes flickering with guilt. “We couldn’t forgive ourselves for that.”

Jungkook’s heart drops. It’s like a jagged, aching wound in his chest. They think they abandoned him. They think they failed him. But Jungkook knows they didn’t. They couldn’t have known. He knows it wasn’t their fault. But it hurts to hear them say it, to know that they’ve carried that guilt for so long.

He takes a shaky breath, his hands still gripping their arms, his heart raw with emotion. “It’s not your fault,” he says, his voice trembling. “You couldn’t have known. It wasn’t your fault. I chose to go back” But even as he says it, it doesn’t feel like enough. It doesn’t feel like the right thing to say, but it’s all he has.

And as he looks into their eyes, the amber and green of them filled with so much sadness, so much regret, Jungkook knows that he has to be the one to heal them. He has to be the one to help them forgive themselves, even if it means forgiving himself too. 

And now, as they hold him, as they’re finally together again, maybe, just maybe, they can start to heal the wounds that have haunted them all for so long.

Jungkook blinks rapidly, his vision blurry from the tears that continue to fall. The world around him feels surreal, like a dream he could never have dared to imagine. He had never thought he would be here, sitting in front of those who had once been so far away. The shifters who had just moments ago been so far removed from his life, now revealed their deepest truth—one he had never expected to be part of. Yet here they were, the wolves he had set free, the wolves he had sacrificed everything for. And every second had been worth it.

His chest heaves as the weight of everything they had suffered and everything they had lived through crashes down on him. The cold air, the snowflakes that now feel like a soft blanket settling over him, somehow can’t ease the ache in his heart. As the shifters sob beside him, their voices raw with emotion, Jungkook realizes that the bond they shared goes deeper than anything he had imagined. They had not only found their families—they had found him.

"Hyung that's him," the russet wolf cries out, his voice breaking, fragile as glass. His hands are shaking as they cling to Jungkook, desperate to hold onto the one person who had helped them survive. "He saved us from those monsters," he continues, eyes wide with disbelief, as though still trying to comprehend the miracle that brought them together again.

Jungkook looks up at the faces of the older shifters, his heart pounding in his chest as he sees the understanding flicker across their features. Their expressions shift from shock to recognition, to something else—something profound.

His throat constricts, the tightness growing unbearable. The lump in his chest only grows, as if everything that had been building inside of him has finally come to a head. He is so overwhelmed, so exhausted from carrying the weight of it all.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, his tears soaking into the shifters’ clothes, his body wracked with sobs that come from a place deeper than anything he’s ever known. He has saved them, and they have saved him, and now they are here—together. Finally. The thought is too much to handle, yet somehow, it feels like everything is falling into place.

But then, in the stillness, Jungkook lifts his eyes to Namjoon and Yoongi. The two alphas stand back, eyes wide, expressions unreadable—surprised, yes, but there’s something else there. Regret, perhaps. Or maybe confusion. His chest tightens when their gazes meet, and he feels like a puzzle piece that has finally fit into its place—both wanted and feared, yet undeniably necessary.

“Alpha, he saved our lives,” the white wolf cries out again, his voice filled with awe, admiration, and desperation. His hands grasp Jungkook’s arms, holding him tightly as if he’s still afraid to let go. "He freed us."

Jungkook feels his heart stop for a moment, the weight of those words sinking into his bones. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t known how deep their gratitude ran. How could he have? He had just done what felt right at the time. But now, looking into their tear-streaked faces, hearing their broken voices, he realizes just how much he had done for them. For these wolves. For the pack.

The words settle in the cold, in the space between the snowflakes that still fall, and Jungkook’s gaze drifts back to Namjoon and Yoongi. Their expressions have softened, and a flicker of understanding passes between them. There’s no more confusion in their eyes. Only the recognition of the role Jungkook has played in all of this. In their lives. In their survival. And for the first time, Jungkook feels seen—not just as a human, not just as the one who was cast aside—but as someone who matters. Someone who has value beyond the world that tried to crush him.

Yoongi steps forward first, his eyes still heavy with emotion, but this time, there's a kind of quiet resolve in his gaze. Namjoon follows, standing tall beside him. 

Jungkook takes a shaky breath and wipes his eyes, his heart still racing, but somehow lighter. The weight on his shoulders doesn’t feel so heavy now. He’s found his place. They’ve all found their place.

And even as the snow continues to fall, blanketing everything around them in a soft, silent hush, he knows this is where he’s meant to be.

Jungkook sways slightly on his feet as he tries to stand, his body feeling as if it’s been drained of all strength. He tries to steady himself, but his legs betray him, buckling beneath him as if the weight of everything he’s been holding onto finally catches up. The cold, the emotion, the overwhelming realization of everything happening around him—it's too much.

His knees tremble, and for a brief moment, he thinks he might collapse, but the arms of the alphas are there, steadying him, catching him before he can fall. Yoongi’s grip tightens around his arm, a silent promise that he won’t let go. Namjoon, on the other side, wraps a hand around his waist, pulling him close, his presence warm against the freezing air.

“Thank you,” Jungkook manages to choke out, his voice thick with emotion, the words barely escaping him as tears streak down his face. He’s not sure what he’s thanking them for—perhaps for just being there, for catching him, for saving him in ways they might never understand. Perhaps for showing him, in this moment, that he is more than just a scared, broken human. He feels everything all at once, relief, joy, gratitude, and the sting of all the things that came before.

When he finally manages to stand, with their help, Seokjin and Hoseok are there, their arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace. Jungkook can feel the weight of their gratitude in the way they hold him. Their breaths are shaky, their voices thick with emotion as they whisper thanks into his ear.

"Thank you, pup. Thank you for saving them... for saving our mates... our babies," Seokjin whispers, his voice thick with an emotion Jungkook can’t quite place, but understands nonetheless. Hoseok echoes the same sentiments, his voice just as trembling, and Jungkook feels a lump in his throat, a ball of emotion that feels like it might choke him.

Our mates...

Jungkook blinks, trying to process their words. Mates? The realization hits him slowly, like the softest snowfall, blanketing his mind. He hadn’t understood until now, hadn’t put the pieces together, but now he does. The others had mentioned it, had spoken of their mates who had been away for a few weeks. Jimin and Taehyung. His wolves.

Jungkook’s heart races. The two shifters, the ones he had fought for, the ones he had freed, were mates. His rescuers mates.

Jungkook turns toward the two shifters, his heart swelling with emotion that nearly overpowers him. The moment feels almost surreal, like he’s caught in a dream he never wants to end. The sight before him could be something comical, something to smile at, were it not for the overwhelming emotions filling his chest. Jimin and Taehyung are both still crying, though not as intensely now, their faces flushed with the intensity of everything they’ve just been through. The amber-eyed shifter is the first to speak, his voice shaking but steady.

"My name is Jimin" he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but strong with meaning, with a connection that runs deeper than words.

The green-eyed wolf, speaks next. His voice is soft, tinged with the remnants of emotion, but there's a sense of quiet dignity in it, as though he is trying to find the words to explain the bond they share.

"I’m Taehyung," he murmurs, his eyes flicking toward Jungkook, his gaze full of understanding, of recognition. It’s as if he knows exactly what this moment means.

Jungkook stares at them, his heart in his throat. These were the ones he had been dreaming of, the ones he had freed, the ones who had returned, to their pack, to their families. They were finally here, and Jungkook’s chest swells with relief, with the overwhelming rush of finally being seen. They had made it.

Jungkook feels tears slip down his cheeks again, but these tears are different. These are not the tears of loss, of fear, or of despair. They are the tears of joy, of relief.

He reaches out, trembling, his hand brushing against Jimin’s cheek. The contact is electric, like a shock running through his veins, and Jungkook feels it deep within him. They’re here. They’re safe. He doesn’t know what this will mean for them, for him, but in this moment, he realizes that he’s no longer alone.

“You’re here…” he whispers, barely able to get the words out, but they are the most important words he’s ever spoken. “I found you.”

Jimin’s eyes soften, and he reaches out, cupping Jungkook’s cheek in return. His touch is gentle, full of affection, full of everything that has built up over these years.

“We found each other,” Jimin murmurs. And it’s then that Jungkook realizes, not only had they found their way back to their pack, but in some way, they had found their way back to him as well.

Taehyung’s arms wrap around Jungkook, pulling him into a firm, unwavering embrace. His warmth seeps through Jungkook’s skin, grounding him, anchoring him in a way that feels both protective and familiar. Taehyung buries his face against the back of Jungkook’s neck, his breath warm and steady despite the tremble in his voice.

“We’re never letting you go again,” he whispers, the promise laced with quiet desperation, with the weight of lost time and the unshakable determination to never be separated again.

Notes:

**Hey everyone!!**

VminKook are finally reunited—yay! 🎉 Turns out they *were* the ones Jungkook had saved all along... but I think you all saw that coming! 😉

I can’t wait to dive into all the fluffy moments ahead. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

See you all soon! 💕

Chapter 21: Pieces of the Past

Summary:

Jungkook finally gets to share his side, and Vmin do too.

Jungkook sniffled, feeling the warmth of Jimin’s and Taehyung’s arms wrapped tightly around him. He still couldn’t believe they were here, safe, holding him close like they’d never let go. His hands clutched at their clothes, fingers trembling slightly as he pressed himself deeper into the embrace.

Behind them, the alphas stood watching, their expressions soft yet filled with something raw—something only barely restrained. Namjoon exhaled, running a shaky hand through his hair as if to steady himself. Seokjin’s arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his lips pressed together like he was holding back a rush of emotion. Hoseok and Yoongi exchanged a glance before their gazes returned to Jungkook, relief written plainly on their faces.

Jungkook had spent so long fearing that he would never see Jimin and Taehyung again—that the warmth of them, the safety of them, had been lost to him forever. But they were here. Real. And they were holding him just as tightly as he held them.

Namjoon took a step closer, his voice low but steady. “They’re safe,” he murmured, as if sensing the lingering fear still coiled inside him. “And you’re safe too.”

That was when Jimin pulled back just enough to cup Jungkook’s face, his thumbs brushing away the lingering tears on his cheeks. His hands were so gentle, so warm. “Let’s go home,” he whispered, his voice still thick with emotion.

Jungkook blinked, his breath catching in his throat. Home.

It felt like such a foreign word—one that belonged to others, not to him. But when Jimin said it like that, with so much certainty and warmth, it made something deep inside Jungkook ache. It was a longing he hadn’t dared to name before now. His lips trembled as he swallowed hard and nodded, a wobbly smile pulling at his lips.

Taehyung grinned at him, reaching down to grab his hand. “Come on, pup. Let’s go.”

Jungkook let them lead him, their steps slow, unhurried. He felt lighter, like a weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying had finally been lifted. His heart was still fragile, still sore from everything that had happened, but right now, in this moment, he was happy. Jimin and Taehyung were okay. They were going home.

Behind them, the alphas watched, their gazes filled with something deep.

Jin let out a soft exhale, his voice thick with quiet affection. “I can’t believe it,” he murmured, though there was no bite to his words. Just relief.

Hoseok chuckled, though the sound was dampened with emotion. “It’s going to be okay now,” he admitted, rubbing at his eyes before anyone could call him out for it.

Yoongi, ever the quiet observer, simply nodded. But there was something in the way he watched Jungkook—something achingly fond. “Yeah,” he murmured. “It will.”

Namjoon didn’t say anything. He just placed a firm hand on Jungkook’s back as they walked, a silent reassurance. A silent promise.

But as they moved forward, something slowly dawned on Jungkook. His brows furrowed as he glanced around, the familiar comfort of their touch momentarily forgotten. The path they were taking—this wasn’t the way back to the infirmary.

His steps faltered, and confusion flickered across his face.

“Wait…” he hesitated, his voice uncertain as he glanced up at them. “The infirmary is that way…”

It’s a weak protest, one that feels ridiculous the second it’s spoken, because of course they know that. This is their home, their village. They don’t need him to tell them where anything is. But before the silence that follows can stretch too long, before his uncertainty can take root, Yoongi speaks, his voice softer than Jungkook expects.

“We’re going home, Jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook stares at him, startled, his steps faltering. Home? The word lodges itself in his chest, curling tightly around his heart. It feels foreign on Yoongi’s tongue yet warm in a way that makes something deep inside Jungkook ache.

He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t ask what that means or why they aren’t taking him back to the infirmary. He just swallows past the lump in his throat and lets them lead him forward.

They walk slowly, carefully, their pace adjusting to match his. Namjoon stays close on one side, Yoongi on the other, both alphas steadying him when his steps waver. Jimin and Taehyung stay right beside him, their fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to hold onto him. Seokjin and Hoseok follow just a step behind, their presence quiet but solid, watching over all of them.

The path winds deeper into the village, the last remnants of daylight painting the snow in hues of soft lavender and dusky blue. The air is cold, but Jungkook barely feels it. His mind is too full, his heart too heavy and too light all at once.

Home.

They said they were taking him home.

Jungkook doesn’t know what that means yet. But for the first time in his life, he thinks he might want to find out.

When they arrive, Jungkook finally understands what Yoongi had meant. We’re going home.

The house before him is larger than he expected, its sheer presence both welcoming and imposing in the soft glow of the evening. Built from sturdy dark wood, it blends seamlessly with the surrounding nature, as if it had grown there rather than been constructed. The sloping roof is thick with a fresh layer of snow, the icicles hanging from the eaves catching the last remnants of daylight like shards of frozen light.

A wide, covered porch wraps around the front, its wooden beams carved with intricate patterns that remind Jungkook of vines twisting toward the sky. The front door is a masterpiece on its own, heavy and solid with hand-carved designs—swirling patterns of wolves and moons, a silent homage to the beings who call this place home.

To the side of the house, he notices a stack of neatly chopped firewood, ready for the cold nights ahead. A low wooden bench sits on the porch, its surface dusted with snow, and Jungkook imagines someone—perhaps Seokjin or Hoseok—sitting there in the mornings with a cup of steaming tea, watching the village stir to life. A single lantern glows beside the door, casting a warm, golden light that spills onto the snow-covered ground, creating a contrast between the warmth of the home and the cold of the world outside.

Jungkook has never seen this place before. It makes sense, though. The alphas hadn’t trusted him back then—why would they have brought him here? To their sanctuary, to the place they shared with their loved ones? He understands. He really does.

But now… they are bringing him here. They are leading him through the snow-covered path, toward the porch, toward the warmth inside. And Jungkook isn’t sure why, but his chest tightens at the thought.

Jungkook reaches the steps leading up to the porch and immediately realizes his mistake. The crutches, which had been a manageable aid on flat ground, now feel like a hindrance as he tries to navigate the incline. He hesitates, unsure of how to angle himself without losing balance, but before he can embarrass himself by stumbling—or worse, tumbling down the steps—he feels a firm but gentle presence at his side.

One hand plucks the crutches from his grasp, while another arm wraps securely around his waist, steadying him before he even has the chance to protest. The touch is warm, grounding, and Jungkook lets out a startled squeak, his wide eyes snapping up to find Hoseok grinning down at him.

“Relax, little one,” Hoseok teases, his voice carrying that ever-present warmth that makes Jungkook’s cheeks burn. “We can’t have you breaking the rest of your limbs before you even step inside.”

Jungkook ducks his head in embarrassment, but he can’t ignore how effortlessly Hoseok holds him, how easily the beta matches his movements to help him up each step. It’s as if he’s done this a hundred times before, as if Jungkook is someone precious, someone worth caring for. And for some reason, that thought makes Jungkook’s chest tighten.

When they reach the porch, Jungkook hesitates before glancing up at the beta. Up close, he can see the rich gold of Hoseok’s eyes, a color so warm and alive that it almost distracts him from the fact that the beta is still holding him. Hoseok’s gaze is stunning, like sunlight captured in liquid form, and Jungkook wonders how he never noticed just how beautiful they are before.

Shyly, he ducks his head again and murmurs, “Thank you, Hoseok-hyung.”

Hoseok’s grin softens, his arm still lingering around Jungkook’s waist as if reluctant to let go. Then, with a playful wink, he replies, “Anytime, sweetie.”

The inside of the house is beautiful in a way that feels undeniably lived-in, warm, and safe. The scent of wood and something faintly sweet lingers in the air, wrapping around Jungkook like a comforting embrace. The walls are made of rich, sturdy logs, their surfaces smoothed but still carrying the marks of careful craftsmanship. Everything inside feels handmade, from the polished wooden furniture to the woven rugs that soften the floor beneath his feet.

Shelves line the walls, filled with an assortment of books, trinkets, and what looks like hand-carved figurines of wolves and other animals. Dried herbs hang from the ceiling in the kitchen area, swaying slightly with the warmth that radiates from the hearth. A large wooden dining table sits near the kitchen, its surface slightly worn, the kind of place where countless meals have been shared, where laughter and conversation have no doubt filled the air.

Hoseok leads him further inside, his steps confident as he guides Jungkook through the space, past the inviting scent of whatever lingers in the kitchen, past the warm glow of lanterns placed in cozy corners. Eventually, they reach the heart of the home—a living room so inviting that Jungkook feels himself relax the moment he steps inside.

A fire crackles softly in the stone fireplace, its golden light flickering over the space. Two large couches are arranged near it, their surfaces draped with thick, plush blankets, and a few deep armchairs are placed strategically around the room. There are cushions everywhere, some stacked neatly, others looking as if they’d been lazily tossed aside after a long night curled up near the warmth. The atmosphere is comforting, the kind of place one would want to spend hours in, wrapped in the gentle embrace of heat and home.

Seokjin, already slipping into his caretaker role, claps his hands once, his voice filled with gentle authority. “Go sit down, all of you. Joon and I will handle the food.”

Hoseok doesn’t give Jungkook a choice, guiding him toward one of the couches before he can protest. He makes a satisfied sound when Jungkook is seated, then promptly ushers Jimin and Taehyung onto the couch beside him, murmuring something about how “babies need to sit together.”

Jungkook doesn’t get the chance to question it before Jimin and Taehyung press close, their warmth seeping into him instantly. As if the very idea of distance is unbearable, both omegas crowd him, shoulders brushing, thighs touching, fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to reach for him outright. Their closeness is instinctive, desperate in a way that makes Jungkook’s throat tighten.

Across the room, Namjoon follows Seokjin into the kitchen, but not without glancing back at Jungkook one last time, something soft lingering in his gaze.

Jungkook swallows, feeling an ache in his chest that he doesn’t quite understand. But when he turns back to Jimin and Taehyung, their eyes shining with relief and something painfully tender, he lets himself sink into their presence. Lets himself believe, even if just for now, that he belongs.

Yoongi moves with the quiet efficiency of someone who has done this a thousand times before. He grabs a soft, thick blanket from the pile stacked near the couch, draping it carefully over Jimin’s small frame before reaching for another to do the same for Taehyung. Both omegas hum in contentment, instinctively burrowing into the warmth, their eyelids drooping slightly as exhaustion finally starts to settle in.

Jungkook watches the scene with something tender curling in his chest, but before he can think too much about it, Yoongi is reaching for yet another blanket. His movements are instinctive, automatic, as if his hands already know what to do before his mind catches up. Jungkook doesn’t expect it when Yoongi gently tucks the blanket around his shoulders, pulling it snug around his frame like it’s second nature.

The moment seems to catch Yoongi off guard too. He stills for half a second, his brows furrowing slightly, as if realizing only now what he’s done. But instead of pulling away, he exhales through his nose, expression softening. He continues, adjusting the edges of the blanket to make sure it covers Jungkook properly. And then, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, Yoongi’s hand lifts to Jungkook’s hair.

His fingers brush lightly against the silky strands, searching until he finds the delicate Scilla flower still tucked behind Jungkook’s ear. It must have loosened slightly from all the movement, but Yoongi carefully presses it back into place, adjusting it with precise fingers until it sits just right. His touch lingers for only a second, warm and certain, before he pulls away.

Jungkook, meanwhile, feels like his entire face is on fire. That’s all he seems to do around Yoongi—blush and fluster like some inexperienced fool who doesn’t know how to function under the weight of such simple gestures. But there’s something about Yoongi’s quiet care that gets to him. That makes his chest ache with something too overwhelming to name.

Before he can spiral too deeply into his own thoughts, the scent of something warm and fragrant drifts into the room. Namjoon and Seokjin return from the kitchen, each carrying trays of steaming mugs and small plates piled with different types of snacks. The scent of tea—herbal, soothing—fills the air, and Jungkook watches as they set everything down on the low wooden table in front of them.

“Eat,” Seokjin instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Drink. And then we can talk.”

Jungkook swallows, glancing at the others before nodding. He doesn’t know what they need to talk about, doesn’t know what words are waiting to be said. But for now, in the warmth of the fire, with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and two omegas curled up beside him, he lets himself reach for the tea.

The warmth of the tea seeps into Jungkook’s bones, chasing away the lingering cold that had settled in his body from the walk. He cradles the mug between his palms, savoring the heat, the herbal aroma, the way each sip soothes something deep inside him. The snacks are sweet, almost addictively so. Honey, maybe? The taste lingers on his tongue, blending with the floral notes of the tea, and before he realizes it, he’s eaten more than he thought he would.

Seokjin and Hoseok seem pleased by that—Jungkook catches the way their eyes soften, how Seokjin’s lips press together like he’s holding back a smile. Hoseok nudges another small pastry toward him, as if silently encouraging him to take just one more, but Jungkook shakes his head with a tiny, shy smile. He’s full, comfortably so, and when he finally sets his empty mug down on the table, he bows his head slightly in gratitude.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, glancing at Namjoon and Seokjin. “It was really good.”

Seokjin waves a dismissive hand, but there’s a clear fondness in his expression. “You don’t have to thank us for feeding you, Jungkook-ah,” he says, tone warm. “You’re family now.”

Family. The word settles heavily in Jungkook’s chest, a mixture of warmth and ache twisting inside him. He doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t know how to respond without his emotions bubbling over. Instead, he nods, looking down at his hands as silence falls over the room.

No one speaks for a moment. Not because there’s nothing to say, but because there’s too much. Words hover in the air, waiting to be spoken, but no one seems to know where to start.

Eventually, it’s Jimin who breaks the silence.

“I didn’t know,” he says, voice quiet but sure. Jungkook looks up, meeting his gaze, finding those amber eyes filled with regret. “I didn’t know that the human Yoongi-hyung and Namjoon-hyung found was you.” Jimin’s fingers clench slightly in the blanket wrapped around him, his brows furrowing. “If I had known…” He swallows, expression pained. “I would have never left in the first place.”

Jungkook’s breath catches. The weight of those words sinks into him, settling deep in his chest. He doesn’t know how to respond—doesn’t know how to tell Jimin that he doesn’t blame him, that he doesn’t hold any resentment for what happened.

Because how could he?

Taehyung shifts slightly, pulling his blanket tighter around himself as he speaks.

“You were still unconscious when we left,” he explains, voice thick with emotion. “They wouldn’t let us near the infirmary.” His gaze drops, fingers gripping the fabric of the blanket as though grounding himself.

Jimin nods beside him, his lips pressed together as if he’s holding back a wave of emotion. “Shifter territory was so far away, Jungkook. We never even imagined… never thought it could have been you.” His voice wavers, thick with regret. “If we had known, if we had even suspected—”

Jungkook shakes his head before Jimin can finish. “It’s alright,” he says, offering them the best reassuring smile he can muster. “Really. The pack has been… welcoming.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then Jungkook feels it—feels the weight of two gazes on him, feels the shift in the air. His eyes flicker to Yoongi and Namjoon, both alphas staring at him with expressions he can’t quite decipher. They don’t say anything, but they don’t have to. He can see it in their eyes, in the slight furrow of Namjoon’s brows, in the way Yoongi’s jaw tightens just a fraction.

They know.

They know that what he’s saying isn’t entirely true. That the past two weeks haven’t been all warmth and kindness. That there were whispers and doubt, wary gazes following him wherever he went. That Jungkook had spent so much time wondering if he really belonged here. That they had played a huge role in all of that.

He looks away before they can say anything, focusing on the warmth of the fire, on the weight of Jimin and Taehyung pressed against his sides.

There’s a question burning in his chest, one that he can’t hold back any longer.

“How did you make it home?” he asks, looking between them. His voice is quiet, hesitant. “After you left… how did you find your family?”

Jimin sighs, sinking deeper into the couch, his fingers clutching at the blanket Yoongi had wrapped around him. He exchanges a glance with Taehyung, as if silently asking where to begin. Taehyung nods, and Jimin turns back to Jungkook, his expression soft but tinged with lingering pain.

“We ran for a long time,” Jimin says, voice quiet but steady. “We didn’t know where we were going at first, just that we had to get as far away from that village as possible. We barely stopped to rest. We didn’t hunt, didn’t eat. We just kept moving.”

Taehyung exhales shakily, pulling his knees up to his chest. “The unmarked lands were terrifying, kook-ah. There were no packs, no territories, no scents to guide us. Just endless wilderness. We had no idea if we were even going in the right direction. We were exhausted, starving. It felt like we’d been running for days without end.”

Jungkook listens, his heart clenching at the thought of them wandering through that endless expanse of wild, unclaimed land, vulnerable and alone, just like he had.

“But then,” Jimin continues, his voice lighter now, like a candle flickering in the dark, “something changed.”

Taehyung nods, his green eyes shining in the firelight. “Halfway through the unmarked lands, we started feeling something. A pull. A presence in our minds.” His fingers curl into the fabric of his blanket, voice thick with emotion. “It was our mind link. We had been too far away to feel it before.”

Jimin presses a hand to his chest as if remembering the exact moment. “We could feel the hyungs reaching for us, calling for us through the bond. It was weak at first, just an echo of their voices, but the closer we got, the stronger it became. It was like a beacon, guiding us home.”

Jungkook blinks, trying to imagine what that must have been like. Seokjin had told him about mate bonds, but to hear it described so intimately, so painfully—it makes his chest ache.

“Joon-hyung and Yoonie-hyung found us before we even made it back to shifter territory,” Jimin says, his lips curving into a small, watery smile. “They’d been searching for us. The moment we got close enough, they ran to us like their lives depended on it.”

Taehyung laughs a little, though his voice is thick with unshed tears. “Namjoon-hyung tackled me so hard we both fell into the snow.” He shakes his head fondly. “He was so angry. Kept scolding me for being reckless. But I could feel it. I could feel how relieved he was.”

Jimin hums in agreement, glancing toward Yoongi, who is watching them quietly from the other side of the room. “Yoongi-hyung didn’t say much. He just pulled me into his arms and didn’t let go. I could feel his heart racing.” Jimin swallows. “He was scared, Jungkook-ah. Scared that we’d never make it back.”

Silence settles over the room, warm and heavy. Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. He can picture it so clearly—Jimin and Taehyung collapsing into the arms of their mates, shaking and exhausted but finally, finally safe.

He exhales shakily, gripping his own blanket as he processes it all. “So they brought you back after that?”

Taehyung nods. “Yeah. They didn’t let us go for the entire journey home. And when we made it back, Jin-hyung and Hobi-hyung were waiting for us. We were safe. We were home.”

Jungkook swallows past the lump in his throat, blinking rapidly. Jimin and Taehyung had found their way home. They had made it.

Jungkook’s voice trembles slightly as he asks, “How did you end up in my village?” His eyes search their faces, eager for answers, but hesitant to dig too deep into the painful memories.

Jimin and Taehyung share a quiet moment, before Taehyung answers softly, his gaze distant, like he’s recalling something hard to speak of. “We were captured,” he begins, his voice thick with the past. “They attacked us near the border.”

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat. He knew Jimin and Taehyung had been taken—of course, he knew. But to hear them say it, to know that it had happened within their own land, their own supposed safety—it sends a chill through his veins.

“You were taken from shifter territory?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, disbelieving. “The hunters… they were inside the border?”

Jimin nods, his hands curled into the fabric of his blanket. His amber eyes flicker with the memory, a shadow passing over his face. “We didn’t realize how far we had gone. We were just playing, running through the trees. It was supposed to be a normal day.” His voice wavers, and Taehyung reaches over, grasping his hand tightly.

“We smelled them too late,” Taehyung continues, his voice quieter now, his eyes dark with the weight of the past. “By the time we understood that they weren’t supposed to be there, that they weren’t shifters, it was already over. They had weapons—darts filled with something strong. It hit fast. I remember feeling… heavy. My limbs wouldn’t move. I tried to, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even call for the hyungs.”

Jungkook swallows hard. His fingers dig into his own blanket, his knuckles turning white. “You couldn't call for help…”

Jimin nods, squeezing Taehyung’s hand in return. “We wanted to. We tried. But whatever they used on us, it cut us off completely. We couldn’t reach anyone through the bond.” He lowers his gaze, voice barely above a whisper. “One moment we were in the forest… the next, we woke up in chains.”

Jungkook feels his stomach twist painfully. He knows what came after that. He doesn’t need them to say it.

Namjoon, who has been silent until now, exhales slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. “We still felt it,” he says, his voice thick with barely restrained anger. “Even if you couldn’t reach us, we felt something was wrong. I knew something was wrong.” His jaw clenches. “By the time Yoongi-hyung and I got there, you were already gone.”

Jungkook looks at the alphas, sees the raw frustration, the helplessness that still lingers despite the time that has passed. He wonders how much they must have tormented themselves over this, how many sleepless nights they spent searching, blaming themselves for not being fast enough.

Jimin and Taehyung are quiet, their hands still linked, their bodies pressed close as if anchoring each other.

Jungkook feels something deep and painful settle in his chest. He wants to reach out, to take their hands in his, to tell them he’s sorry. Sorry for what they went through, sorry for what they endured. But he knows that words won’t change the past.

Instead, he looks at them—really looks at them. They’re here. They’re safe. They found their way home.

Jungkook hesitates. He doesn’t know if he wants to say it—if he can say it. But Jimin and Taehyung had shared their story, had opened up their wounds without hesitation. He feels like he owes them the same.

So, he grips the edges of his blanket a little tighter, grounding himself in the warmth, and begins.

"When I got back… they knew." His voice is quiet, but in the silence of the room, it feels deafening. "The hunters. The moment they saw me, they knew I was the one who freed you."

Jimin lets out a small gasp, Taehyung’s hands tighten into fists against his lap, but neither of them interrupt. Jungkook swallows hard and continues.

Jungkook takes a shaky breath, his hands gripping the blanket even tighter as he forces the words out. His throat feels tight, like something's trying to choke him from the inside. But he can’t stop now. He has to tell them.

"They… they put me on the ground the moment they saw me. It was like they were waiting for it, like they knew I would come back. I don’t remember much, but Sungil… he was furious. He was so mad. He shouted at me like I was the worst kind of traitor, like I had betrayed him somehow. But all I did was… try to help," Jungkook whispers, the words thick with the memories of that anger, that hateful gaze.

He pauses, trying to steady his breathing, but it comes out uneven. He swallows, eyes focusing on the fire as he tries to distance himself from the pain.

"They dragged me back to the hut where… where you were. Where you and Jimin had been… trapped." His voice falters on the word "trapped," like the weight of it is too much for him to carry. The room is so still, so quiet, that even his breaths feel loud.

Namjoon’s jaw clenches, his hand curling into a fist at his side. Yoongi, too, looks away, his eyes shadowed with an emotion Jungkook can’t quite place, but it’s enough to make his heart race with guilt and shame.

"They tied me to the same chains," Jungkook continues, his voice small now, trembling with the memory of it. "The same silver chains… the ones that burned your skin. And they left me there. Left me to starve."

Seokjin and Hoseok exchange looks, their expressions torn, heartbroken. Hoseok’s eyes flicker with an anger he rarely shows, his lip curling slightly as if the thought of what Jungkook endured is unbearable. Seokjin, though, is quiet, his usual happy demeanor crumbled as his hand reaches out to hold Jungkook’s.

Jungkook takes a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the room pressing down on him. His gaze flicks to Namjoon, who looks at him with guilt, his eyes gentle but still laced with that underlying fury he’s tried to keep in check. Jungkook tries to steady his voice, but it wavers, cracking as he continues.

"What happened after that...?" Namjoon asks quietly, almost as if he already knows it’s going to be difficult to hear.

Jungkook’s voice falters as he takes another breath, gathering the strength to continue. His hands tremble as he grips the blanket tighter, knuckles turning white. He can feel the warmth of the room, the comforting presence of his pack surrounding him, but inside, he feels cold. His stomach twists as he recalls the next part of the story. The hardest part.

"Sungil…My intended,  I told you about him" Jungkook starts, his voice cracking as the memory of the slap comes rushing back. "He… he hit me."

A sudden hush falls over the room. The quiet is heavy, thick with tension as the alphas and betas watch him, their faces a mix of disbelief, horror, and anger. Jungkook’s eyes drop to the ground, and the room seems to close in on him as the words spill out, each one like a wound being reopened.

"He slapped me," he repeats, his voice barely audible, but the words hit the room like a storm. "It wasn’t… It wasn’t just once. It was when I… I wouldn’t stop crying. I wouldn’t stop begging them to let me go. He was so angry… and then he just…" Jungkook pauses, his throat tight as he tries to steady himself. His body shakes as the memory plays through his mind.

"He backhanded me so hard, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even move." His breath hitches, and he looks up at the others. His gaze flits to Taehyung first, then to Jimin, and finally to Namjoon, Yoongi, Seokjin, and Hoseok. The horror in their eyes is palpable, but it’s nothing compared to the hurt Jungkook feels.

"He just looked at me with those… those cold eyes and told me that if I kept being so weak, if I kept crying, that I’d never be worth anything." Jungkook’s voice trembles with emotion, his chest heaving as he tries to keep his composure. "I kept telling him I didn’t want to be there, that I didn’t want to be locked up like that… but he didn’t care."

Yoongi’s jaw clenches so tightly that his teeth grind, his fists are balling at his sides, and his chest rises and falls rapidly. He’s holding himself back, but it’s obvious that he’s barely keeping it together. His eyes are full of rage, an emotion so raw that it seems to simmer just below the surface.

Seokjin’s face turns pale, his hand trembling as he grips the arm of the chair. He looks like he wants to reach out to Jungkook, to comfort him, but he’s frozen, his heart breaking at the thought of what he has endured. Hoseok’s usually bright eyes are darkened with grief, his shoulders tense as if ready to pounce, to do something, anything, to make it stop.

Namjoon, however, is the one who reacts first. His hand shoots out, cupping Jungkook’s cheek in a gentle but firm manner, his thumb brushing over the skin as if trying to reassure him, but it’s clear from the tension in his body that he’s holding back a storm.

Jungkook shakes his head slightly, trying to clear the painful images from his mind. His chest tightens as he recalls the cold, brutal look on Sungil’s face when he had slapped him. "It wasn’t just the slap. It was everything. The way he treated me, the way he looked at me like I was nothing more than an object he could control." Jungkook swallows hard, trying to push the tears back. He can’t let himself fall apart—not again, not in front of them. But it’s hard. The memories are too fresh, too raw.

The room falls silent for a moment, as the pack processes the weight of what Jungkook has said. It’s like a wave of grief has washed over them all, each of them feeling the heavy burden of what Jungkook has endured.

Then Taehyung speaks, his voice trembling with rage. "No one has the right to do that to you, Kookie. No one. That's just wrong." His words are full of conviction, and he looks as though he might spring up and go after Sungil himself if given the chance. "We will never let anyone treat you like that again. Never."

Jimin’s tears are falling freely now, his voice shaky as he looks at Jungkook with empathy. "I can’t believe he did that to you," Jimin says softly, his voice breaking with emotion. "I’m so sorry, Kookie. You don’t deserve any of this." He reaches for Jungkook’s hand, holding it gently in his own.

Jungkook’s eyes flit over to Yoongi and Namjoon, both of whom are standing tall now, their expressions hard, their fury barely contained. Yoongi looks like he might snap at any moment, but Namjoon’s hand on Jungkook’s cheek is a steadying force, grounding him in the moment.

"We’re going to make sure you’re safe," Namjoon says, his voice low and commanding. "He won’t get away with this. We’re here now, and we’re not going to let him hurt you again." There’s an unwavering determination in Namjoon’s voice, a promise that they won’t rest until Jungkook is free of the hell he’s endured.

The pack is silent for a moment, the weight of Jungkook’s pain hanging heavy in the air. But Jungkook knows, deep down, that he’s finally safe. He’s finally with people who will protect him.

As the tears fall again, this time in relief, Jungkook lets out a shaky breath, his chest feeling lighter than it has in so long. 

He takes a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the room pressing down on him. His gaze flicks back to Namjoon, who looks at him with concern, his eyes gentle but still laced with that underlying fury he’s tried to keep in check. 

"Is there more...?" Namjoon asks quietly, almost as if he already knows it’s going to be difficult to hear.

Jungkook nods, his throat tight as he stares at the ground, gathering his thoughts. His fingers clench around the blanket once more, the fabric crumpling in his hands as if it can somehow help him ground himself.

"Sungil," he begins, voice small, barely above a whisper. "He came for me after two weeks. I… I was so weak, I could barely stand, but he still came. He said I’d learned my lesson, that it was time for me to come home."

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat as he continues, the memories rushing back with painful clarity. Everyone is silent now, the atmosphere heavy with grief and pain, but Jungkook can’t stop. He has to say it.

"He… he brought me to his house, but it wasn’t like before. It wasn’t home," Jungkook’s voice cracks, the tears he thought had stopped coming flooding back. "He locked me in a room. The door didn’t even have a handle on the inside. There were chains on the bed, hyung. Ch-chains." His voice trembles with the sheer horror of it. "I couldn’t even move. He forced me to sleep there, like I was nothing."

Jimin’s face pales, his hand clutching tightly onto Taehyung’s arm. Taehyung’s expression hardens, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turn white. Yoongi’s jaw tightens, his gaze darkening with rage, and even Seokjin and Hoseok, who had been calm and steady up until this point, now look absolutely devastated.

But it’s Namjoon who looks the most affected. His broad shoulders tense as he listens to Jungkook’s words, his fists tightening slowly by his sides. His gaze shifts from Jungkook to the ground, and for a long moment, there’s a silence in the room. No one says anything, but the collective weight of what Jungkook just revealed hangs heavily in the air.

"You were locked up?" Namjoon’s voice is low, thick with barely contained anger. It’s a dangerous calmness, like a storm that’s brewing beneath the surface.

Jungkook nods, his lip trembling. "I… I couldn’t escape. He kept telling me I wasn’t worthy of anything better. That I would never be free. It was like… like I wasn’t even a person anymore. He controlled everything." His breath hitches again, and he looks up, eyes searching for some kind of comfort, some understanding. "He said I was his, that I’d never be allowed to leave. I didn’t know what to do."

Taehyung’s hands are shaking now, his own anger rising up as he stares at Jungkook. "I should’ve never let you go back there," he mutters through gritted teeth, his voice harsh with regret.

Yoongi stands up abruptly, his fists clenched tightly at his sides as he paces around the room. "I’ll kill him," he growls under his breath. "No one, no one should've treated you like that." His anger is palpable, the air thick with the fury that seems to be radiating off him in waves.

But Jungkook shakes his head quickly, his voice urgent. "No, please. I don’t want you to hurt him. I… I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me." He looks to Namjoon, who’s still standing there with his arms crossed, face hard. "I just want it to stop. I just want to be free."

Seokjin looks over at Jungkook with a deep sorrow in his eyes, his lips trembling. "You are free now, Jungkook. You’re with us now," he says softly, but there’s still a pain in his voice that doesn’t quite match his comforting words. "You don’t have to be afraid anymore."

Jungkook looks up at the alphas and betas, feeling the weight of their gazes, the protective warmth that surrounds him now. It’s a stark contrast to the darkness he had been living in, and he’s not sure how to accept it. For so long, he had been locked away, isolated, made to feel like he didn’t belong anywhere. Now, surrounded by these people he still doesn’t know how to fully trust that it’s real. That they won’t abandon him.

"Jungkook," Namjoon speaks again, his voice steady now, though there’s an edge of resolve to it. "You’ll never have to go through that again. We won’t let him take you back. You’re home now, with us."

Jungkook feels his heart twist in his chest, a weight lifting slightly off his shoulders, but the fear still lingers at the edges of his mind. He’s not sure if he can ever truly be free of the terror he’s lived through. 

Jimin, his face still wet with tears, reaches out and gently touches Jungkook’s arm. "We’re here now. We’re here for you, okay? You’re not alone anymore." His voice is soft, but the conviction in it makes Jungkook feel something in his chest soften, like a tight knot slowly loosening.

Jungkook’s voice trembles as he continues, the words weighing heavy on his chest, threatening to suffocate him with their force. He’s still trying to push through, still trying to speak, but each word feels like a knife cutting into him.

"Sungil..," he begins, swallowing hard, his eyes downcast. "I pretended. Pretend to be this perfect little wife for him. He wanted me to behave. To smile, to be obedient." He scoffs bitterly, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "Every day, for a whole month. I had to act like nothing was wrong. Like I wasn’t trapped in that house. Like I wasn’t a prisoner. It was the only way to gain his trust."

"I needed him to trust me, to lower his guard and stop locking me away. My only hope was that, eventually, he would become so confident that I wouldn’t leave, that I’d have the chance to escape when his vigilance faltered."

There’s a quiet gasp from the pack, and Jungkook doesn’t dare look up. He can feel their eyes on him, shock, disgust, and—most importantly—anger. The anger is building, rising up from the depths of their souls, and Jungkook can sense it, feel the heat of their fury like a living thing.

"Sungil would touch me," Jungkook continues, his voice wavering, trembling with every word, the memories crashing through him like a storm. "His hands would always be on me. My thighs, my waist, my face..." Jungkook’s body shudders as he recalls it, the feeling of his skin crawling beneath Sungil’s touch. "He liked to see me cry. He said it made me look pretty. That I was beautiful when I cried." Jungkook’s voice cracks, and for a moment, he can’t go on.

The room is silent, the only sound the crackling of the fire in the hearth. Jungkook can feel the weight of the pack’s emotions pressing down on him, but it doesn’t compare to the heaviness in his chest. He presses a hand over his mouth, the taste of bile rising up, threatening to choke him.

"I hated it. I hated every second of it," he murmurs, barely above a whisper. His hands ball into fists in his lap, nails digging into the fabric of his blanket. "I wanted to run. But every time I thought about it, I was scared. Scared of what he would do to me if I tried to leave." His voice falters as the weight of it all crashes down on him.

Taehyung’s fists clench so tightly that his knuckles go white, and his eyes are shining with unshed tears. His jaw is clenched so hard that it’s visibly trembling. As if he's fighting the overwhelming urge to lash out at something, anything. But instead, he reaches out, his hand hovering near Jungkook’s, offering silent comfort, an anchor in the midst of this pain.

"I couldn’t take it anymore," Jungkook continues, his voice growing quieter, but more steady. "After one month, he left me alone. For the first time. I thought… maybe he’d finally stop. Maybe he’d finally leave me be." He shakes his head, his body shivering with the weight of what he’s about to say. "I thought it was just a trap. That he was letting me think I was free. But It wasn’t. I ran. I ran as far as I could. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I had to leave. I ran for fifteen days straight, through the unmarked lands. Every day, every step, I was sure he would find me. I was so tired, so weak. But I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop."

Jungkook’s voice breaks again, the memory of those fifteen days—of exhaustion, fear, and desperation—rushing back at him like a wave. "And then… I fell." He swallows thickly, feeling the tears pricking at his eyes again. "I fell off a cliff. And I thought I was going to die. I thought maybe it was better that way. I thought maybe the pain would finally end."

Seokjin’s breath hitches, his hand trembling as he clenches the edge of his chair. Hoseok is looking away, his jaw clenched, his fists tight, clearly struggling to contain his fury. Namjoon is the same—his face pale, his brows furrowed in guilt so deep it seems to make his whole body tremble. But it’s Yoongi’s reaction that catches Jungkook’s attention.

Yoongi is staring at him, his eyes wide, full of an emotion Jungkook can’t quite place—fear, anger, sorrow, guilt—his hands shaking at his sides. He’s so still, his whole body taut as if ready to explode, and yet he doesn’t say a word. The silence between them feels like it could stretch on forever.

Jungkook lets out a shaky breath, tears welling up in his eyes once more. "I thought I was done for. I thought I wouldn’t make it. But then…" His voice falters again, his throat tight as he swallows the lump there. "Then you found me." He looks up, his eyes meeting each of theirs in turn. "You came for me. You saved me."

Taehyung’s face is contorted in a mix of disbelief and horror, his hand gripping Jungkook’s tightly, as if trying to ground him, trying to shield him from the pain. "I wish I could have been there… wish I could have done anything…" His voice is barely a whisper, his anger seething just below the surface.

"How could he do that to you?" Jimin’s voice is soft, but it’s laced with disbelief and heartbreak. His hands are trembling as he clutches Jungkook’s hand, his tears falling freely now. "You didn’t deserve any of that, Jungkook. You never did."

Namjoon’s voice cuts through the silence, low and full of quiet fury. "No one will ever hurt you again, Jungkook. You’re safe now. No one can touch you here. We won’t let them."

Yoongi finally speaks, his voice thick with emotion, barely audible as he looks directly at Jungkook. "I swear, Jungkook. I swear to you… hyung will make sure no one ever hurts you like that again."

The rest of the pack nods, the intensity of their promise hanging in the air, a vow sealed by the bond they share with him. Jungkook doesn’t have to say anything. Their presence, their words, their determination—they speak louder than anything he could ever say.

As the fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room, the air remained heavy with unspoken emotions. The alphas and betas watched Jungkook with quiet intensity, their eyes filled with something between heartbreak and admiration.

“Why did you do it, Jungkook-ah?” Seokjin's eyes were kind, but there was something else behind them—something searching, desperate for an answer.

Jungkook swallowed, gripping the soft blanket tighter around himself. His fingers clenched unconsciously, bunching the fabric as he tried to find the right words. “I—I heard noise near the entrance of the village,” he began, voice quiet, unsure. “I wasn’t supposed to be out that late, but I couldn’t ignore it. So, I went to see what was happening.”

He paused, exhaling shakily. The weight of that memory pressed down on him like an iron hand.

“When I got there… I saw them,” Jungkook’s gaze flickered to Jimin and Taehyung, and he shuddered. “I saw the way they were tied up, the silver wrapped around their neck, the way they were struggling to breathe.” His voice shook slightly, and his eyes burned. “It made me feel sick. It—it was so wrong.”

Jungkook took another breath, trying to steady himself. “Then… I met Jimin’s eyes.” His voice softened. “And that’s when I knew. I knew I had to do something. That I had to help them. That all the cruelty, all the suffering—I had to end it, at least for them.”

Jimin let out a quiet gasp, his fingers tightening around the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His amber eyes glistened, his lower lip trembling slightly as he blinked away the tears threatening to spill over.

The room was so silent Jungkook could hear the firewood crackling, the faint sound of wind howling outside. Namjoon and Yoongi looked at him with something raw in their gazes—pride, guilt, sorrow, understanding. Hoseok’s jaw was clenched, his golden eyes darker than usual, brimming with restrained emotion. Seokjin’s hands, resting on his lap, had curled into fists.

Then, Jimin spoke. His voice was soft, fragile but steady. “I looked at you that night because… even though I was weak, even though my senses were fading… I smelled something.” He took a shuddering breath. “It wasn’t a normal human scent.”

Jungkook frowned slightly, confused, but Jimin continued before he could ask. “It was vanilla and honey.” The omega’s lips trembled into something like a smile. “Warm, sweet, comforting. It didn’t belong in that place.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched. He had never thought about it before—about his scent. But Jimin had noticed. 

“That’s why I looked at you,” Jimin murmured. “Even before I could fully process it, my instincts told me… that you were safe.”

Jungkook’s eyes stung. He pressed his lips together, his throat tightening. He had never been someone’s safe place before. Never.

Silence hung between them like something sacred, something delicate. Then, Namjoon exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. His expression was hard to decipher, his brows furrowed as if he was trying to piece something together.

“You saved them,” he murmured, as if saying it out loud made it more real. His eyes softened as they met Jungkook’s. “Thank you Jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook only nodded. He didn’t need to say more. Because they all understood now.

Taehyung shifts slightly beside Jungkook, the warmth of his presence grounding despite the emotions swirling in the room. His eyes shine with a tenderness that makes Jungkook’s chest ache, but there’s also certainty in his gaze, a kind of unshakable truth that Jungkook doesn’t understand yet.

“As soon as you freed us,” Taehyung says softly, “our wolves bonded with you.”

Jungkook frowns, his fingers tightening around the edge of his blanket. “Bonded?” His voice is hesitant, uncertain. He glances between Jimin and Taehyung, then at the others. “I—I don’t understand.”

Jimin is the one who reaches for his hand, his fingers small but firm as he squeezes Jungkook’s. His eyes, still wet from earlier tears, hold nothing but warmth. “It means that our souls recognized you,” he explains. “Like an invisible link between two wolves.”

Jungkook blinks, his lips parting slightly in shock. That doesn’t make sense. He’s not a wolf. He’s human. He has always been human. He was the one who never belonged, the one who was always different—too weak, too slow, too insignificant.

He turns to Yoongi, his gaze searching. “But I’m not a wolf,” he whispers, the words feeling heavy in his mouth.

Yoongi, who had been watching him closely, exhales softly. “I guess it doesn’t matter,” the alpha murmurs. His dark eyes flicker with something unreadable, something deep. “Bonding happens between souls. And for some reason, their wolves recognized yours.”

Jungkook’s stomach twists. He swallows thickly, struggling to comprehend the weight of those words. His? A soul that wolves could recognize? That felt them back? It didn’t make sense.

A quiet but sharp breath comes from Hoseok, who had been leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees as he listened. He suddenly straightens, looking between the omegas and Jungkook. “I… I didn’t even know that was possible.” His eyes widen slightly, his brow furrowing in thought. “A bond forming between wolves and a human? That shouldn’t be—” He stops himself, glancing at Namjoon and Yoongi, who seem just as deep in thought.

Seokjin, who had been quiet until now, suddenly lets out a soft chuckle. His lips pull into a knowing smile as he shakes his head. “I’m not so surprised,” he says lightly, though there’s a strange kind of fondness in his voice.

Hoseok turns to him, eyebrows raised. “You’re not?”

Seokjin shrugs. “Not really. After all, Jungkook’s scent is already different. He doesn’t smell like a normal human.” The beta leans forward, reaching out to ruffle Jungkook’s hair with an affectionate touch. “It’s no wonder he’s special in other ways too.”

Jungkook’s face warms, heat creeping up his neck. He ducks his head slightly, embarrassed but not exactly hating the attention. It’s just… a lot. Jimin hums softly, eyes twinkling. “That’s true,” he agrees, tilting his head as if considering. “You smell like home.”

Jungkook’s breath catches. His heart stutters in his chest. He doesn’t know how to respond to that. He swallows, his throat dry. “So… what does this bond mean?” Taehyung smiles, squeezing Jungkook’s arm. “It means you’re ours.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches, his wide eyes darting between the two omegas.

Theirs?

His heart races, but for once, it’s not out of fear.

Jimin shifts where he sits, pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders. His fingers fidget with the edges of the fabric, and his lips press together as if he’s choosing his words carefully. Then, after a moment, he speaks.

“Or at least our wolves think you’re theirs,” Jimin says quietly, his voice soft but certain. He exhales, shoulders tensing slightly before he adds, “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.”

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t know what to say.

The words settle into the air, thick and heavy, and Jungkook feels the weight of them pressing down on his chest. He looks at Jimin, at the way the omega’s eyes shine with something hesitant, something almost nervous. And then he looks at Taehyung, who is watching him just as closely, his expression open, raw. There’s no malice there, no expectations—only sincerity.

Jungkook swallows.

These people… they are mates. All six of them. He knows that. He sees the way they move around each other, the way they instinctively reach for one another, the way they fit together like puzzle pieces that were never meant to be separated. They are a family. A unit. Whole.

And he—

Jungkook lowers his gaze, his fingers gripping the edge of his blanket as something uneasy curls in his chest. He doesn’t want to make them uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to put strain on their relationship because of this strange bond, this thing he doesn’t even understand. He doesn’t want them to think that he’s trying to come between them, that he’s some kind of intrusion.

“I—” He stops, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to respond.

Taehyung must sense his turmoil because he reaches for Jungkook’s hand, squeezing it gently. “We felt the bond getting weaker and weaker every day, Jungkook-ah,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “We were scared it would break.”

Jimin nods, his eyes glistening. “When we were away, we could feel it stretching. Pulling. Like a thread being frayed at the edges.” His grip on Jungkook’s wrist tightens, as if he’s afraid to let go now. “We didn’t know if it would last. If we would lose you. We didn't tell anyone about it”

Jungkook’s breath stutters.

They had felt it. This thing between them. They had known something was wrong, had felt the distance like a physical wound. He hadn’t even known a bond existed, and yet they had feared losing it.

Jungkook doesn’t know how to process that.

Yoongi clears his throat, drawing Jungkook’s gaze. His eyes flickering with something deep, something thoughtful. “Bonds aren’t meant to break,” he says slowly, carefully. “Not unless something is forcing them to.”

Something cold crawls up Jungkook’s spine.

Something had been forcing it.

He had been trapped in that village, locked away in Sungil’s house, stripped of freedom, of warmth, of hope. He had been forced to play the perfect little husband, to let hands he despised touch him, to let his body be restrained by chains he never asked for. He had been drowning, suffocating, and he hadn’t even known that somewhere, beyond the walls of his prison, something had been unraveling.

Something precious.

Something fragile.

He presses his lips together, trying to ignore the way his throat tightens.

Namjoon exhales, reaching out to smooth a hand over Taehyung’s hair before turning his gaze back to the omegas. His voice is steady, a pillar of warmth in the tense silence. “It’s okay now,” he says firmly. “Because you’re together again.”

Jimin sniffles, nodding. Taehyung leans into Jungkook’s side, pressing their shoulders together like he needs the reassurance of touch. Jungkook doesn’t know what to do with all of this. Doesn’t know how to accept something that he never even realized he had.

But when Jimin shifts closer, when Taehyung squeezes his fingers again, when Namjoon and Yoongi look at him like they’re seeing him in a new light, like they’re realizing just how deep this goes—

Jungkook thinks that this is something he doesn’t have to understand right away.

It’s enough that he’s here. That they’re here.

Their bond is still whole.

Notes:

Hey everyone!! ✨💛

Hope you’re all having an amazing week! 🌸🌿

I’m so happy they all finally had the chance to sit down and talk things through. 🥺🫂 Obviously, it’s not everything, but it’s such an important first step! Communication is everything!! 💬💕

See you all soon! 🥰💖🌟

Chapter 22: Rebuilding Trust

Summary:

Jungkook sips his tea and gets explanations

Both Jimin and Taehyung starts yawning, small and sleepy at first, but then more frequent, their blinks growing slower, their bodies leaning heavily against Jungkook. It’s obvious now—they’re exhausted. Whether from the long journey back home or the emotional weight of the evening, their bodies are begging them to rest.

Hoseok notices it immediately, his sharp beta instincts kicking in. He tuts, shaking his head fondly. “Alright, that’s enough for tonight,” he announces, standing from the couch. “Time to go to the nest.”

At the mention of the nest, Jungkook stiffens slightly. He doesn’t know what that means, but no one else looks surprised by it. He debates asking but ultimately stays quiet, watching as Jin also stands and stretches, his expression filled with the kind of warmth that comes with caring for someone deeply.

Jimin whines softly, curling closer to Jungkook. “But—”

“No buts,” Jin interrupts, already rounding the couch to pull the omega up by his hands. “You’re exhausted, baby. And so are you, Tae.”

Taehyung pouts, but it lacks real resistance. “Not that tired.”

Jungkook doesn’t believe that for a second—Taehyung can barely keep his eyes open.

“Mmhm,” Hoseok hums, unconvinced. “You’re dead on your feet, love.” Then he claps his hands together, giving both omegas a pointed look. “Up. Nest. Now.”

Jimin and Taehyung sigh, clearly not wanting to leave Jungkook behind, but neither beta is budging. They glance at each other before finally accepting defeat, allowing themselves to be ushered toward the stairs.

Before following the betas, though, they turn back.

Jungkook barely has time to react before Jimin throws himself at him, wrapping his arms around his neck and squeezing tight. “Sleep well pup,” he murmurs against his skin before pulling back just enough to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

Jungkook barely has time to process it before Taehyung is right behind him, wrapping Jungkook up in a similar embrace. “See you in the morning,” he whispers, his voice thick with sleep. He lingers for a moment, nuzzling slightly, before pressing a warm kiss to Jungkook’s other cheek.

Jungkook’s face burns, and he stares at them, wide-eyed, as they finally pull away.

Jimin giggles at his reaction, and even Taehyung smirks sleepily before the betas herd them toward the stairs. “Goodnight, Kookie,” they call before disappearing up to the second floor.

The room feels strangely quiet without them. Jungkook blinks, still dazed, still feeling the ghost of their kisses on his skin. He’s never been touched so gently before. Not like that. Not with affection so freely given, so warm and easy. He grips his blanket tighter, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

A soft chuckle pulls him from his thoughts.

When he glances up, he finds Yoongi watching him with amusement, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You look like you just short-circuited.” Namjoon huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he settles into the armchair across from him. “They do that. You’ll get used to it.”

Jungkook swallows, unsure of what to say. He’s not sure if getting used to it is even possible. For now, though, he doesn’t argue. Instead, he glances toward the stairs where Jimin and Taehyung disappeared, his chest feeling unexpectedly warm.

Yoongi shifts, pushing off the couch with a quiet sigh. “I’ll get you another tea,” he says, already reaching for Jungkook’s empty mug. Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly, snapping out of his thoughts. “Ah—Yoongi-ssi, you don’t have to—”

Yoongi doesn’t even let him finish. He levels Jungkook with a look, unimpressed, before clicking his tongue. “Didn’t ask if I had to,” he murmurs. “Stay there, and it's 'hyung' for you.” The words are firm, leaving no room for argument, but there’s something oddly gentle about them. It makes Jungkook’s protest die in his throat, though his lips part like he still wants to try.

"Y-yoongi-hyung."

The word slipped from Jungkook's lips, quiet and unsure, as if testing the weight of it. Could he really call him that?

Before he can say anything else, Yoongi’s already walking away, disappearing into the kitchen with his mug in hand. And just like that, Jungkook is left alone with Namjoon.

The moment Yoongi is gone, the silence stretches between them, growing heavier with each passing second. Jungkook finds himself shifting awkwardly, suddenly hyperaware of everything—of the way the fire crackles in the hearth, of the way Namjoon watches him.

Jungkook drops his gaze to his lap, fingers curling into the soft material of the blanket Yoongi had tucked around him earlier. He fidgets without thinking, picking at the edge of the fabric, then his own sleeves, then rubbing his thumb against his palm in a nervous habit he hasn’t been able to shake since childhood.

It feels strange, being alone with Namjoon like this. Not because he doesn’t trust him—he does now, more than he ever thought possible—but because for so long, the alpha had looked at him with suspicion, with caution, with something guarded in his gaze. Jungkook doesn’t know how to sit across from him now, in the warmth of their home, and pretend that things between them haven’t completely changed.

Then, Namjoon finally speaks.

“That’s a pretty flower you’ve got in your hair.”

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard. He lifts his head, meeting Namjoon’s eyes just as the alpha’s gaze flickers toward the delicate blue petals still tucked behind his ear. The Scilla.

Jungkook hesitates, reaching up instinctively to brush his fingers against it, feeling the soft petals against his skin. “Oh,” he breathes, voice small. He hadn’t even realized it was still there. Namjoon smiles, soft and almost amused.

"Y-yoongi-hy..."

“Y-yoongi-hyung made sure it stayed in place.”

Jungkook’s cheeks burn instantly.

He remembers the way Yoongi had done it—how the alpha had paused, just briefly, after tucking him into the blanket, then reached out without thinking, fingers brushing against his temple as he carefully adjusted the flower, making sure it didn’t slip loose.

Jungkook had been too flustered then to really process it. But now, with Namjoon looking at him like that, his words laced with something knowing, it settles deep into Jungkook’s chest, warm and overwhelming all at once.

He swallows, lowering his hand from the flower, curling it back into the blanket. 

Namjoon chuckles, shaking his head slightly. “It suits you,” he says, and there’s something in his voice—something almost fond, something that makes Jungkook’s heart stutter in his chest. Jungkook looks down again, biting his lip, trying to will away the warmth spreading up his neck. “Thank you,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper.

And Namjoon just smiles, like he understands exactly what’s running through Jungkook’s head but chooses not to say anything about it.

Jungkook shifts slightly under the weight of Namjoon’s gaze, fingers still gripping the soft blanket in his lap. He isn’t sure why he suddenly feels so shy. Maybe it’s the warmth in Namjoon’s voice, or the way the fire casts a golden glow across the alpha’s face, making his usually sharp features look softer, almost gentle.

After a brief pause, Jungkook clears his throat, looking down again. His voice is quiet when he speaks.

“I told Yoongi-hyung that the blue flowers were pretty.” He pauses, tracing the edge of the petal between his fingers before continuing. “I’d never seen blue flowers before. At least… not in person. Not back in my village.” His voice grows even softer, as if admitting something delicate, something fragile. “I—I like the color blue.”

Namjoon hums, resting his elbow on the arm of the couch, his chin propped against his hand as he listens. His eyes remain fixed on Jungkook, patient and unhurried, letting the younger take his time.

Jungkook hesitates for a second before adding, “So… Yoongi-hyung gave me one.”

He can still remember how it happened—how he had barely whispered his admiration for the flower, thinking Yoongi wouldn't really care. But Yoongi had. And instead of saying anything, the alpha had simply plucked one from the ground, turned to him, and tucked it behind his ear without a word. The gesture had been so unexpected, so quiet and thoughtful, that Jungkook had been left momentarily stunned.

Now, thinking back to it, his fingers twitch slightly against the blanket, as if trying to hold onto the warmth that had bloomed in his chest at that moment.

Namjoon’s lips curl into a soft smile. “I figured as much,” he says simply.

Jungkook glances up, eyes flickering over Namjoon’s expression, the easy way he says it—as if he genuinely is glad. Not just because of the flower, but because Jungkook had found something to cherish, something beautiful that belonged to him, even in the smallest way.

Then, Namjoon tilts his head slightly, his smile turning a little playful. “You should keep it on,” he muses. “It makes you look cute.”

Jungkook freezes.

His ears instantly burn, heat creeping up his neck, blooming across his cheeks like wildfire. He ducks his head so fast that the flower nearly slips loose from his hair, and he has to scramble to fix it before it falls. His fingers feel clumsy, heart hammering loudly against his ribs.

“I—” He swallows, biting his lip as he tries to compose himself. “T-Thank you.”

Namjoon chuckles, the sound deep and warm, clearly amused by Jungkook’s reaction. He doesn’t press, doesn’t tease him further—just watches as Jungkook fumbles slightly, his blush deepening, before looking away with a knowing smile.

Jungkook wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

As Yoongi returns from the kitchen, the warmth of the tea seems to carry with him, the gentle aroma of herbs and honey filling the space. He walks with quiet purpose, his movements effortlessly smooth as he places the steaming cup in front of Jungkook on the table.

"Be careful, it's hot," he murmurs, his voice softer than usual, eyes flickering to Jungkook's before he steps back.

Yoongi doesn't linger near him, instead rounding the table and settling next to Namjoon on the couch across from where Jungkook sits. He leans back slightly, one arm resting against the couch’s armrest, the other draped lazily along the back. His gaze is steady, but there’s something in the way his fingers drum absently against the cushion—like he's waiting, like he knows there’s something left unsaid.

Jungkook should probably just sip his tea and enjoy the moment of peace, but something tugs at his chest, raw and insistent. He doesn’t know what force takes over him, but suddenly, the words spill out before he can stop them.

"I never thought I’d see them again," he admits, voice quiet at first, but the weight of his emotions makes it tremble. He looks down at his hands curled into the fabric of his blanket, gripping it tightly. "Every night, I prayed that they had made it. That they got away and found their way home."

His throat feels tight, and he swallows against the ache forming there. "Thinking of them kept me going," he continues, barely above a whisper. "Because they were so brave. They didn’t give up. Even when they were locked up, even when they were so scared, they still had hope. And I—I wanted to be like them."

He doesn't realize he’s started to shake until he feels warmth press against his knee. When he looks up, Namjoon is watching him with something deep in his gaze, something heavy with understanding. His large hand rests on Jungkook’s knee, grounding but gentle, as if silently reminding him that he’s here, that he's safe.

"You were brave too, Jungkook-ah," Namjoon says, his voice steady, unwavering.

Namjoon exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair before leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees. His expression is thoughtful, his voice calm but firm when he speaks.

"After Jimin and Taehyung made it home," he begins, his deep voice filling the quiet space between them, "they told us everything."

Jungkook, who had been nursing his tea between his hands, blinks at him, confused. "Everything?" he repeats hesitantly.

Namjoon nods, his gaze steady, unwavering. "About you. About the human who took off their chains, who treated their wounds even when you could’ve been punished for it. The one who walked with them for hours in the freezing cold, guiding them toward safety, even when you had no reason to help."

Jungkook's fingers tighten around his cup, his heart lurching at the thought of Jimin and Taehyung speaking about him like that. He had never seen himself as anything special—he had just done what was right. The idea that they had remembered, had carried his name back with them, makes his chest feel oddly tight.

"They wouldn’t stop talking about you," Yoongi adds, voice quieter but no less intense. He’s watching Jungkook closely, the glow of the fire reflecting in his dark eyes. "They kept saying we had to go back. That they had to go back."

Jungkook swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He can picture it so clearly—Jimin and Taehyung, exhausted and cold but alive, pleading with their pack to turn around, to risk everything for him.

"They felt guilty," Namjoon continues, his expression softening. "For leaving you behind. They blamed themselves for making it out while you were still trapped there."

Jungkook’s chest aches at the thought. His sweet wolves, even after all they had been through, had still been thinking about him. He shakes his head slightly, eyes dropping to the surface of his tea. "They shouldn't have," he murmurs. "They did what they had to do. I wanted them to escape."

"We know," Namjoon says gently. "But that didn’t stop them from wanting to go back."

Jungkook feels a lump form in his throat, and he bites his lip, trying to keep himself composed.

"But we couldn’t allow that," Yoongi says, his voice turning sharp, the edge of authority creeping into his tone. "Could never allow such a thing."

Jungkook looks up, startled by the sudden shift in his voice. Yoongi is tense, jaw clenched, hands curled into loose fists against his thighs. His entire body radiates restrained fury, and Jungkook realizes—this isn’t just anger. This is rage, but not directed at him.

"It was a miracle they made it out at all," Yoongi continues, his tone quieter now but no less dangerous. "Sending them back to the humans? It would’ve been a death sentence."

Namjoon nods, his own gaze dark. "We had to convince them. Again and again. That it wasn’t an option. That we couldn’t risk losing them."

Jungkook shudders at the thought of Jimin and Taehyung turning back, walking willingly into the hands of the hunters, only to be chained again—only this time, there wouldn’t be anyone to set them free.

"They cried, you know," Namjoon says softly. "They fought us on it. Jimin especially." A small, humorless smile tugs at his lips. "Our baby has always been stubborn."

Jungkook feels his eyes burn at the thought of Jimin crying, of Taehyung pleading, of both of them desperate to save him but unable to. He wonders if they had nightmares about it, if they had spent sleepless nights wondering what had happened to him.

Yoongi leans back against the couch, running a hand over his face. His frustration lingers, but there’s something else in his expression now. Something almost... relieved.

Namjoon exhales sharply, shaking his head as if frustrated with himself. He leans forward, forearms resting on his knees, fingers loosely clasped together. His brows are drawn, lips pressed into a thin line. For the first time since Jungkook started speaking, the alpha looks—angry. Not at him, but at himself.

"I should’ve realized sooner," Namjoon says, his voice rough with guilt. "I should’ve made the connection the second we found you."

Jungkook blinks, surprised by the sudden shift in Namjoon’s tone. "What do you mean?"

Namjoon lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head again. "Jimin and Taehyung—they told us about you, Jungkook. They talked about the human who freed them, who took care of them, who risked his life for them. And do you know the one thing they kept repeating?"

Jungkook swallows, his fingers tightening around his cup of tea.

Namjoon lifts his gaze, and his eyes are filled with something raw—regret, frustration, something that makes Jungkook’s stomach twist.

"Your scent," he says, almost bitterly. "They kept talking about how sweet you smelled. How it wasn’t like any human they’d ever met before."

Jungkook stills.

"That’s how we found you that night, Jungkook," Namjoon continues, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. "We were out patrolling, and we smelled it—your scent, carried on the wind." He lets out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. "We followed it. That’s how we found you, collapsed and half-dead on the forest floor. That’s how we knew you were there."

Jungkook’s chest tightens painfully. He remembers that night in fragments—his legs giving out beneath him, the sharp bite of cold air, the way the world had started to blur around the edges. He remembers thinking, for the first time in weeks, that maybe it was okay to let go. That it would be better to just stop running, to stop fighting.

"Jungkook," Namjoon says, drawing him back to the present. His expression is pained. "We should’ve known. Jimin and Taehyung had told us about the human with the sweet scent, and then we found a human with that exact scent in our territory." He exhales sharply. "For fuck’s sake, it should’ve been obvious."

Jungkook shakes his head, his heart pounding. "You didn’t know," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "You couldn’t have known."

Yoongi, who has been silent until now, lets out a soft scoff. "We were so scared," he mutters, his fingers drumming against the armrest of the couch. "After what happened to Jimin and Taehyung, after what the humans did to them, finding one in our territory—logic didn’t matter. We panicked."

Namjoon lets out a slow, deep breath. "We let our fear cloud our judgment. We were too focused on protecting our pack to realize who you were."

Jungkook stays quiet, absorbing their words. He doesn’t blame them—not for a second. But he can see the guilt weighing heavy on them, can hear the regret in Namjoon’s voice and the frustration in Yoongi’s.

"You saved me," Jungkook says after a moment, his voice soft but firm. "That’s what matters."

Namjoon studies him for a long time before finally nodding. "Yeah," he murmurs. "I guess it is."

The room falls into silence again, but this time, it feels different. Not heavy with unspoken grief, but lighter. Like something has shifted, like something has begun to heal.

The silence that follows is thick, heavy with something unspoken. Jungkook feels it settle over his skin like a weight, pressing into his ribs, making it harder to breathe. He lowers his gaze to the steaming cup of tea in his hands, watching the way the tendrils of warmth curl into the air, dissipating into nothing.

Then, Namjoon sighs. It’s a deep, weary sound, like the kind that comes from carrying something too heavy for too long.

"We owe you an apology, Jungkook," he says finally, his voice quiet but firm.

Jungkook’s fingers tighten around his cup. He looks up hesitantly, finding Namjoon watching him with an expression that’s hard to read—guilt, regret, something else woven between them. Beside him, Yoongi shifts, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his brows furrowed in a way that makes Jungkook think he doesn’t like talking about things like this.

"We can’t say we’re sorry for being wary at first," Namjoon continues. "We couldn’t afford to be anything else. Not after what happened to Jimin and Taehyung."

Jungkook swallows, nodding slowly. He understands that. He does.

"But that doesn’t excuse the way we treated you." Yoongi’s voice is rougher, his words clipped. "You were injured. Weak. There was no reason to be as harsh as we were. To be cruel."

Jungkook blinks, momentarily taken aback. He hadn’t expected them to admit it so openly. He had figured that their coldness, their initial distrust, was just something he had to accept—one more thing to add to the pile of burdens he had learned to carry.

Namjoon rubs a hand over his face, exhaling heavily. "We’re alphas," he says, his voice tight. "We’re supposed to protect. We’re supposed to know the difference between threats and innocents." He shakes his head. "And the thing is—we can usually tell. We can sense when someone has bad intentions. Their scent changes. It’s… instinct."

Jungkook’s breath catches. He remembers the way they had reacted to him at first, the way their eyes had been sharp, their movements tense. But now, hearing this—it makes something ache inside of him.

"You knew I wasn’t a threat," he murmurs, almost to himself. "Didn’t you?"

Yoongi’s jaw clenches, and Namjoon looks away.

"We should have," Namjoon admits after a moment. "But our senses were clouded by fear. By everything that had happened. We weren’t thinking clearly." He lets out a sharp breath. "And because of that, we let our own fear dictate how we treated you."

Jungkook looks between them, their tense shoulders, the tightness in their expressions. He doesn’t know what to say.

"We were cruel with you," Yoongi says bluntly, his voice quieter now. "And you didn’t deserve that, never deserved any of it."

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, his chest tightening. He had told himself, over and over, that their treatment of him had been justified. That it made sense for them to be wary, to be cold. And yet—he thinks of the way they had spoken to him, the way they had questioned his every word, the way they had made him feel like he was constantly on the verge of being thrown out.

He thinks of the way they had let him struggle in silence, too stubborn to offer comfort. It had hurt. It still does. And now—now they’re apologizing. Jungkook lets out a slow, unsteady breath. He stares down at his tea, watching the ripples tremble along the surface.

"I don’t blame you," he says finally, his voice small. "I never did."

Namjoon exhales, his hands curling into fists where they rest on his knees. "That doesn’t make it right."

Jungkook looks up, meeting his gaze. There’s something raw in Namjoon’s eyes, something unguarded. He wonders if it’s difficult for an alpha to admit when they’re wrong. If it goes against everything they are.

Yoongi shifts, rubbing a hand over his face. "We’re not asking for forgiveness," he mutters. "We just… we needed to say it because you deserve an apology. God you deserve so much more than that even."

Jungkook stays quiet for a moment, the warmth of the tea seeping into his palms. Then, finally, he nods.

"Thank you," he says softly.

The tension in the room doesn’t disappear, not completely. But something shifts, just a little. Jungkook doesn’t know what to say.

He had never expected an apology—never even thought he would hear these words coming from them. And yet, here they are, sitting in front of him, their eyes heavy with sincerity, telling him that they regret the way they treated him. That they know they were wrong. That they had been cruel.

His fingers curl tighter around the warm ceramic of his tea cup, as if grounding himself, as if trying to process the weight of their words.

"Jungkook," Namjoon’s voice is steady, firm, but there is a gentleness there too, something softer than Jungkook is used to hearing from him. "Don’t think we’re only apologizing because of what we learned tonight. That’s not what this is."

Jungkook looks up at him, eyes wide.

Yoongi exhales, leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. His expression is unreadable, his gaze flickering between Jungkook and the steam rising from his untouched tea.

"We were already planning to apologize," Namjoon continues, his fingers laced together, a faint tension in his shoulders as though holding back frustration—but not at Jungkook. At himself. "Before Jimin and Taehyung even got back, we—" He hesitates, glancing at Yoongi, before shaking his head. "We had already realized how fucking stupid and cruel we’d been."

Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line, and when he finally speaks, his voice is quiet but firm. "We were just being stubborn."

Jungkook blinks, his throat tightening.

"You were hurt," Namjoon says, his voice quieter now, like he’s realizing it all over again. "And we were too stuck in our own heads to see it properly." His gaze darkens slightly. "There was no excuse for that."

Jungkook swallows, shifting in his seat. He doesn’t know how to feel. He doesn’t know if he should say it’s okay or if he should let himself acknowledge how much their coldness had hurt.

"We let our fear control us," Yoongi murmurs, his fingers drumming once against his knee before stilling. "And that’s not something an alpha should ever do." Namjoon nods, his brows furrowed in frustration—again, at himself, not at Jungkook. "We don’t expect anything from you," he continues. "We don’t expect you to forgive us, or trust us right away. But from now on, we’re going to do everything we can to make sure you feel like you belong here. That you feel like home."

Jungkook’s breath catches.

Home.

It’s not a word he’s used to. 

The idea of belonging somewhere feels foreign, impossible. But now, as Namjoon and Yoongi sit across from him, saying things he never imagined they would say, a small part of him wonders if this pack could become his home.

The fire crackles softly, the warmth of the tea still lingering in Jungkook’s hands as he sits in the quiet room, the weight of the night settling over him. Namjoon and Yoongi remain on the couch across from him, their presence steady, grounding.

A few moments later, the soft creak of the stairs catches Jungkook’s attention. He turns his head just as Seokjin and Hoseok reappear, both betas stepping back into the room with easy familiarity. Seokjin stretches his arms above his head, letting out a small, satisfied sigh, while Hoseok rolls his shoulders, clearly trying to work out the stiffness from carrying Jimin and Taehyung’s weight.

“Well, that was an adventure,” Hoseok announces, making his way toward the couch. “Those two wouldn’t stop wiggling.”

Seokjin scoffs, following behind him. “That’s an understatement. You’d think we were trying to separate them permanently instead of just putting them to bed.”

Jungkook watches them with quiet amusement as they make their way over, the couch dipping slightly as they both plop down beside him. He’s immediately enveloped in their warmth, Seokjin on one side, Hoseok on the other.

“Are they asleep now?” Namjoon asks from across the room, his voice a little softer than before.

Seokjin hums, resting an arm along the back of the couch. “Out like candles. But not before making us promise to check on their precious Jungkookie.”

Jungkook blinks, startled. “They—”

“They were worried about you,” Hoseok interrupts, nudging his shoulder lightly. “Wouldn’t stop asking if you were warm enough, if you’d eaten enough, if we made sure you were comfortable.”

Jungkook’s throat tightens. He doesn’t know what to do with that—doesn’t know how to process the idea of someone caring about him like that, fussing over him even when they should have been resting.

“They love you already,” Seokjin adds, watching Jungkook carefully. “You know that, right?”

Jungkook swallows, ducking his head slightly. “I—I don’t…”

Hoseok sighs, reaching out to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. “Don’t overthink it, sweetie. Just accept that you’re theirs now.”

Jungkook freezes, his breath catching in his throat.

Theirs.

The word rings in his head, warm and terrifying all at once. He doesn’t know what to do with it, doesn’t know how to let it settle. He’s spent so long running, so long feeling like he belonged nowhere, like he was nothing more than an outsider in every place he went.

But here—

He looks around, at the warmth of the fire, at the steady presence of Namjoon and Yoongi across from him, at Seokjin and Hoseok flanking his sides. At the home he’s somehow stumbled into, at the people who are slowly making space for him in their lives.

The warmth of the tea lingers in Jungkook’s hands, the ceramic smooth beneath his fingertips as he curls them slightly around the cup. He listens quietly, watching the steam rise in delicate tendrils, dissipating into the dimly lit room. The fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows against the wooden walls.

It’s peaceful.

Or at least, it would be—if not for the weight pressing down on Jungkook’s eyelids, the exhaustion seeping into his bones. He tries to ignore it, tries to push past the drowsiness slowing his thoughts, but his body betrays him, his blinks growing heavier, slower.

The betas notice immediately.

“Look at him,” Seokjin muses, arms crossed loosely over his chest. His eyes are warm, fond as they land on him. “He’s falling asleep sitting up.”

Jungkook blinks, startled, sitting up straighter. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” Hoseok interrupts, following in behind Seokjin, shaking his head in amusement. “You’re exhausted.”

“We figured as much,” Seokjin continues, moving to take a seat. “Jimin and Taehyung wouldn’t stop begging us to come back and check on you until they passed out.” He chuckles, shaking his head fondly. “They were so worried about you.”

Jungkook’s heart twists at that. He had worried about them for so long, spent so many nights wondering if they were safe, if they had made it home. And now, they’re the ones worrying about him. It’s strange. Nice—but strange.

Seokjin exhales, rolling his shoulders as if trying to shake off the lingering effects of the long day. “You should get some rest too, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook straightens, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Hoseok counters immediately, raising an eyebrow. “And even if you were, we're still going to walk you back to the infirmary for the night.”

Jungkook frowns. “You don’t have to do that. I can find my way back on my own.”

Seokjin snorts, shooting him an unimpressed look. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really,” Jungkook says stubbornly, even as his body betrays him with another slow blink. “I’m not a child.”

“You’re also just a baby,” Hoseok teases, tilting his head with a playful grin. “Our omega’s baby.”

Jungkook’s face burns instantly. “I’m not—”

“It’s non-negotiable,” Seokjin interrupts, standing up and brushing imaginary dust from his clothes. “It’s dark outside, it’s freezing, and you’re still injured.” He raises an eyebrow, voice firm but affectionate. “So let’s not be difficult, hmm?”

Jungkook glances toward Yoongi and Namjoon as if expecting them to step in and defend him, but Namjoon just huffs out a small chuckle, shaking his head, and Yoongi—well, Yoongi is watching him with that same unreadable expression he always has, though there’s the smallest hint of amusement at the corner of his lips.

Betrayed. He’s been betrayed.

Jungkook huffs, crossing his arms. “I can walk just fine, you know.”

Hoseok gasps dramatically. “Jin-hyung, did you hear that? He can walk just fine. Someone should tell his crutches.”

Yoongi snorts at that, and Namjoon bites his lip, obviously trying to suppress a laugh.

Jungkook glares at them all. “You’re all terrible.”

Seokjin just grins. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you to bed.”

Jungkook lets out a long, suffering sigh, knowing he’s already lost. There’s no arguing with them—not when they’re like this. Not when they’re looking at him like he’s something small and precious, something they want to take care of.

So, with great reluctance, he allows himself to be ushered toward the door, Seokjin and Hoseok hovering at his sides like overprotective mother hens. He sighs again but doesn’t fight it.

Maybe he doesn’t mind it all that much.

The walk back to the infirmary is slow but steady, the cold night air crisp against Jungkook’s skin. He clutches Yoongi’s coat a little tighter around himself, grateful for the extra warmth as his injured foot forces them to move at a careful pace. Seokjin and Hoseok remain close on either side of him, their presence a quiet reassurance as they step through the snow-covered path.

The packhouse isn’t far, but the journey still leaves Jungkook feeling exhausted, his body worn from the long evening. By the time they reach the infirmary’s entrance, he exhales softly in relief, the familiar scent of herbs and clean linens greeting him as they step inside.

Seokjin helps him ease out of his boots while Hoseok moves to stoke the small fireplace in the corner, filling the space with a much-needed warmth. Jungkook shrugs out of his coat, his fingers brushing over the thick fabric, and that’s when it hits him—

This isn’t his coat. It’s Yoongi’s.

A sudden sense of guilt washes over him. He shouldn’t still have this. Yoongi had given it to him, but surely the alpha hadn’t meant for him to keep it permanently. It was warm, well-made, clearly expensive, and Jungkook couldn’t possibly—

“I should probably return this to Yoongi-hyung,” he says, glancing up at the betas as he holds out the coat. “I didn’t mean to keep it.”

Seokjin and Hoseok both pause what they’re doing, exchanging a glance. And then—

They smile.

Not just any smile, but the kind that makes Jungkook feel like he’s missing something, like they know something he doesn’t.

“You should keep it,” Hoseok says, voice light with amusement.

Jungkook blinks. “What? No, I—I can’t. It’s Yoongi-hyung’s.”

“Exactly,” Seokjin replies smoothly, stepping closer. “And it’s much warmer than the coat you had before, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Then keep it,” Hoseok interrupts, waving a hand as if the matter is already decided.

Jungkook hesitates, looking down at the coat in his arms. He feels a little strange about it, like he’s crossing some kind of boundary, like he’s taking something he shouldn’t. “He probably wouldn’t want me to—”

“Oh, Jungkookie,” Seokjin sighs, shaking his head fondly. “You really don’t understand alphas, do you?”

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably. “I mean, I was never… I never really…”

He doesn’t know how to explain it. He wasn’t raised in a pack, wasn’t taught these things the way omegas and betas were. His knowledge of alphas—of shifters in general—was limited to what little he’d heard.

Hoseok steps forward, gently tapping a finger against the coat. “Alphas can be peculiar, you know. They like making sure the people they care about carry their scent.”

Jungkook furrows his brows, confused. “Carry their scent?”

“It’s a protection thing,” Seokjin explains, leaning against the infirmary bed. “A warning to others. If someone smells like an alpha, it signals that they’re being looked after. It keeps them safe.”

Jungkook’s mouth goes dry. “But I’m… I’m not—”

“Not what?” Hoseok tilts his head, amusement still dancing in his eyes.

Jungkook flounders for a moment. “Not part of the pack. Not… someone he cares about like that.”

The betas exchange another look, their expressions impossibly knowing.

“Are you sure about that?” Seokjin muses, a teasing lilt in his voice.

Jungkook opens his mouth to argue, but the words get stuck in his throat. He isn’t sure. He doesn’t know what to think. Yoongi had given him the coat without hesitation, had made sure he was warm, had brewed him tea without being asked.

Would an alpha really do all of that for someone they didn’t care about? His fingers tighten around the fabric. 

Hoseok reaches out, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Just keep it, sweetheart. If Yoongi-hyung wanted it back, he would’ve said something.”

Seokjin nods in agreement. “And trust me—he won’t be upset about it.”

Jungkook swallows hard, feeling a little overwhelmed. He doesn’t fully understand what’s happening, what this means, but…

He hugs the coat a little closer. And for tonight he decides not to question it.

As Jungkook stands there, still holding onto Yoongi’s coat as if it might anchor him to something solid, Seokjin reaches out, his fingers light as they brush against the delicate blue petals woven into Jungkook’s dark hair. The touch is careful, almost reverent, as Seokjin strokes the Scilla flower gently between his fingertips.

Jungkook watches him, uncertain, his breath catching slightly when Seokjin finally speaks.

“If the coat isn’t proof enough for you,” Seokjin murmurs, “then the flower should be.”

Jungkook’s lips part, but no words come out.

Seokjin offers a small smile, soft and knowing. “Yoongi didn’t just give you a flower, Jungkook-ah. He gave you his favorite flower, a flower that is blue. And not only that, he put it in your hair, right where it would be seen.” His gaze lingers on the petals, his voice warm with meaning. “An alpha doesn’t do that for just anyone.”

Jungkook stiffens slightly, feeling a strange, unfamiliar warmth creep into his chest. He lowers his gaze, his fingers unconsciously tightening around the coat he was still clutching.

Hoseok steps closer then, his expression kind but serious. “Yoongi-hyung told us, you know,” he says, watching Jungkook carefully. “He told us he had planned to apologize to you. He wanted to, but he just… couldn’t find the right moment.”

Jungkook frowns slightly, glancing up. “He… what?”

“He was going to apologize,” Hoseok repeats, crossing his arms loosely. “But Yoongi’s not great with words when it comes to things like this. He’s the type to show how he feels rather than say it outright.” He tilts his head slightly, as if gauging Jungkook’s reaction. “Think back to how Yoongi’s wolf treated you. How gentle he was. From the very beginning.”

Jungkook falters at that, a memory surfacing unbidden—the silver wolf pressing its nose against his face, the way he had sat down next to him, shielding him from the cold.

Hoseok gives him a small, knowing smile. “Hyung always cared about you, Jungkook. He just didn’t realize it himself.”

Jungkook feels something tighten in his chest, an emotion he can’t quite name. His heart beats a little faster, the weight of their words settling over him. He swallows hard, looking down at the coat in his hands, at the flower Seokjin had so delicately touched.

He doesn’t know what to say.

Because maybe they’re right.

As the warmth of their conversation lingers in the dimly lit infirmary, Seokjin shifts slightly, his gaze soft as he watches Jungkook. Then, almost as if the thought has just come to him, he speaks.

“Tomorrow,” he says, his voice smooth and light, “Hobi and I were planning to go for a run as wolves. It’s a good way to let out energy.”

Jungkook blinks, tilting his head slightly, unsure where this is leading.

Hoseok grins. “We wanted to ask if you’d like to come and watch. See us shift.”

Jungkook’s breath catches, caught somewhere between excitement and hesitation. His fingers twitch slightly against the fabric of Yoongi’s coat, his heart pounding at the mere idea.  “You… really mean that?” he asks carefully, unsure if he should allow himself to hope. “Would that be okay?”

Seokjin smiles, amused at his hesitance. “Of course it would be okay, silly. Why wouldn’t it?”

Hoseok nods enthusiastically. “Jimin and Taehyung are probably going to be so excited, too. They’ll love having you there.”

Jungkook swallows past the lump in his throat, warmth spreading through his chest. He nods, a small, tentative smile tugging at his lips. “I’d like that,” he admits, voice soft but sure.

Seokjin and Hoseok exchange pleased looks before they both lean in and press gentle kisses to the crown of his head. It’s warm, affectionate—something Jungkook isn’t sure he’ll ever fully get used to, but something he doesn’t mind at all.

“Goodnight, pup,” Hoseok murmurs.

“Sleep well, Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin echoes, his tone just as tender.

Jungkook watches as they step away, their presence lingering even after the infirmary door closes behind them. He exhales softly, shifting beneath the blankets, feeling the weight of exhaustion finally settle into his limbs.

That night, as he burrows deeper into the warmth of his bed, he dreams—of endless fields of blue flowers, stretching far beyond the horizon. Of a silver wolf standing in the midst of them, its coat shimmering like moonlight against the petals. And of icy blue eyes watching him, not with scrutiny, nor with fear, but with something else.

Something softer.

Notes:

Heyyy!! 👋

So, I was feeling a bit bored today and managed to edit another chapter! 😅

Also, I know some of you think I’m some kind of writing warrior, but honestly, that’s not true at all! 😂 Like I’ve mentioned before, I started writing this for myself (guilty pleasure alert 😏), and then one day, while reading a fic on here, I thought, “Hey, maybe I should share this with others too!” So here we are.💖

By the time I started posting this story, I already had A LOT written. All I’m doing is editing what I’ve already written (just making sure it all makes sense) and focusing on finishing it! That’s why I can upload so often. 😜

Also, I’m on a break from work right now (because why is work so stressful?? 😩) AND I’m a huge introvert who loves staying at home. So I’ve got tons of time to focus on editing. (Although, maybe I should step outside at some point, haha! 🌱)

On another note, I’m so excited we’re getting to the fluff chapters!! 🥰 Sometimes, when I work on this story to edit it, I don’t even remember writing parts of it, and I end up getting surprised all over again, omg! 😳

Hope you’re all staying healthy and having an amazing week! 💖

Chapter 23: Bonds and Games

Summary:

Jungkook makes friends

Notes:

Hey there! 👋💖

So, it recently came to my attention that I’ve never actually mentioned ages in the fic! 😅 It was always super clear in my head, so I never thought to include it—plus, I didn’t assign them strict ages while writing since it’s not a major factor in the story. But just to clear things up, here’s how I imagine them! ✨

Jungkook – 22
Vmin – 24
Hoseok & Namjoon – 25
Yoongi – 26
Jin – 27

I kept their real-life age gaps the same, but not their actual ages! In my mind, they’re all in their twenties. 💫 That said, it’s not super important to the fic, so feel free to picture them however works best for you! 🥰💕

The infirmary is quiet when Jungkook wakes, the soft morning light filtering through the window, casting a cool glow over the room. He blinks slowly, his body still heavy with sleep, but something inside him stirs—a quiet need to feel the crisp air against his skin, to breathe in the scent of the forest instead of the faint medicinal sterility of the infirmary.

He sits up, stretching slightly before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. His foot still aches a little, but it’s a manageable throb, nothing he can’t handle. His eyes drift toward the coat draped over the chair beside him—Yoongi’s coat. And next to it, a pair of gloves neatly folded—Seokjin’s.

Without thinking too hard about it, he slips the coat over his shoulders, the familiar weight settling around him. He hesitates for a moment before picking up the gloves, sliding them onto his hands. They’re soft, lined with something warm, and slightly too big for his fingers. He flexes his hands experimentally before pulling them tighter.

And then his gaze falls on something small and delicate, still resting on the bedside table. The Scilla.

Jungkook reaches for the little blue flower, his fingers brushing against the petals. It’s still intact, as vibrant as yesterday. He doesn’t really know why, but instead of leaving it there, he carefully tucks it back into his hair. Maybe it’s his way of accepting Yoongi’s apology. Maybe it’s something else entirely. He doesn’t dwell on it.

With a quiet sigh, he steps outside.

The air is crisp, biting in a way that wakes him up instantly. The snow crunches softly beneath his boots as he walks, his breath visible in the cold morning air. He spots a small wooden bench a little way from the infirmary, one he hadn’t noticed before, nestled beneath a leafless tree. It looks inviting, so he makes his way over, sitting down with a quiet exhale.

The winter sun is weak but still warm against his skin. He tilts his head back slightly, closing his eyes, letting himself soak in the moment. There’s a strange sense of peace here—something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Then, footsteps.

The soft crunch of snow beneath light steps. Not one, but two.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter open, and when he turns his head, he sees them—Jimin and Taehyung, bundled up in thick coats, their cheeks pink from the cold, their expressions bright as they make their way toward him.

A warmth spreads in Jungkook’s chest before they even reach him.

As soon as Jimin and Taehyung reach him, they don’t hesitate—they sink onto the bench beside him, wrapping their arms around him in a tight, breath-stealing hug. Their warmth presses against him from both sides, wrapping around him like something protective, something safe.

Jungkook stiffens for just a second before relaxing into it, his body instinctively leaning into their embrace. It’s different from the hesitant touches he’s used to, different from the careful distance he’d had to keep with others all his life. This is something whole, something unshaken by fear or uncertainty.

When they finally pull away, they’re both smiling, so wide and bright that it almost hurts to look at them.

Jimin’s light blond hair has been tousled by the wind, strands falling across his forehead in a way that makes him look effortlessly soft. Taehyung’s own dark blond locks are speckled with tiny snowflakes, clinging to him like the winter itself doesn’t want to let go. They look so happy, so alive, so healthy.

And Jungkook—Jungkook feels his eyes burn.

It hits him all at once, the weight of it. They’re here. They’re safe. They’re real.

His throat tightens, his vision blurring at the edges, and before he can even try to blink the tears away, both omegas notice. Their smiles drop instantly, their playful warmth vanishing in an instant.

“Kookie?” Jimin’s voice is urgent, worried.

Taehyung reaches for him first, hands finding his arms, his shoulders, as if checking for injuries. Jimin mirrors him, pressing warm hands against Jungkook’s cheeks, tilting his face up. Their touch is searching, frantic, scanning him for whatever could be wrong.

“What is it? Are you hurting? Did someone say something?” Taehyung demands, his brows furrowing, voice growing sharper in his concern.

“Tell hyungs what's wrong, Kookie,” Jimin pleads, his thumbs brushing gently beneath Jungkook’s eyes, catching the tears before they can fall. “What is it hum?”

Jungkook lets out a shaky breath, shaking his head quickly. “I’m fine,” he rushes to assure them, his voice thick. “I swear, I’m okay. It’s just—” He swallows hard, blinking rapidly. “I’m just so happy to see you.”

Jimin and Taehyung freeze.

For a second, they just stare at him, their hands still gripping his arms, his face, as if trying to make sure he’s telling the truth. Then, all at once, their expressions soften, the tight worry melting into something else—something just as intense, just as overwhelming.

Jimin exhales a shaky laugh, his own eyes shining. “You scared us, you idiot.”

Taehyung presses their foreheads together, his hands gripping Jungkook’s tightly. “We’re here,” he murmurs, firm and certain. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Jungkook closes his eyes and nods, breathing in the truth of their words.

"Come on, follow us," Jimin says, glancing over his shoulder with a grin. "Jin-hyung and Hobi-hyung are waiting for us."

As Jimin and Taehyung guide Jungkook toward the village entrance, their warm hands on his back, he spots Seokjin and Hoseok waiting for them, their postures relaxed and expressions warm. The winter air is crisp, but the sun is out, casting a golden glow over the snowy landscape. Seokjin and Hoseok brighten the moment they see Jungkook, their smiles wide and genuine.

“Jungkookie!” Seokjin calls, his voice laced with excitement. Hoseok grins, stepping forward to ruffle Jungkook’s hair, careful not to disturb the delicate blue flower still tucked behind his ear.

“We’re glad you came,” Hoseok says, his eyes filled with warmth. “We thought it’d just be the alphas running today, but Jimin and Taehyung insisted—so the omegas will be shifting, too.”

Jungkook blinks in surprise, looking between the two omegas, who nod enthusiastically.

“Yeah!” Jimin chirps, eyes sparkling. “Our wolves have been waiting to see you.”

“They want to see you,” Taehyung emphasizes, tilting his head with a playful grin. “They recognize you.”

Something in Jungkook’s chest flutters at that. The idea that their wolves—instinctive, primal beings—actually knew him, wanted to see him… It was strange but also oddly comforting.

Still, hesitation lingers. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to… see all of you shift?” His voice is quieter now, uncertainty creeping in. “I don’t want to intrude.”

Hoseok steps forward, reaching out to squeeze Jungkook’s arm. “It’s more than okay. If anything, it’s important.”

Seokjin nods. “You’re part of this pack now, Jungkook. Whether you realize it or not.”

Jimin and Taehyung exchange knowing looks before turning back to him. “Are you ready?”

Jungkook swallows, then nods. “Yeah.”

Seokjin steps forward first.

Jungkook watches in quiet awe as the beta takes a deep breath, then begins to shift. It happens quickly—but not too quickly, as if Seokjin is giving him time to take it all in. His body contorts, elongating, limbs stretching as his bones rearrange beneath his skin. Fur sprouts along his arms, racing up his neck and covering his form in a wave of deep red.

And then, standing before Jungkook, is Seokjin’s wolf.

He’s not as massive as Namjoon or Yoongi, but still significantly larger than Jimin and Taehyung had been. His fur is rich, deep red—almost like wine, and when the sun catches it, streaks of burgundy and dark copper shimmer through the strands, like embers flickering in the light.

And his eyes—God, his eyes.

A breathtaking shade of purple, like amethysts caught in moonlight. The color is softer than Yoongi’s piercing ice-blue, but there’s something just as striking about them. They seem almost ethereal, glowing faintly in the snow-dusted clearing.

Jungkook stares, mouth slightly parted. 

Seokjin’s wolf tilts its head slightly, ears twitching as if amused by Jungkook’s reaction. Then, in a smooth motion, he steps forward and gently nudges Jungkook’s arm with his nose, the gesture oddly affectionate.

Jungkook exhales a laugh, warmth spreading through his chest despite the cold. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs.

Seokjin huffs, a pleased sound, before turning to the others—waiting for the next to shift. Jungkook barely has time to process before another transformation begins.

Hoseok follows Seokjin’s lead, taking a steady breath before his body begins to shift. It’s a mesmerizing sight—his bones stretching, fur sprouting in an instant, colors blending together as his human form disappears.

And then, standing before Jungkook, is Hoseok’s wolf.

A calico wolf.

Jungkook sucks in a quiet breath. He’s never seen anything like it—not in books, not in stories, not in nature itself. Patches of white, black, orange, and even deep red swirl together across Hoseok’s thick fur, each color distinct yet blending seamlessly, like ink bleeding across parchment.

Jungkook understands now why Hoseok had said his wolf was anything but inconspicuous. Even in the snow-covered clearing, where the world is nothing but whites and grays, Hoseok’s wolf stands out like a piece of untamed art.

Then, before Jungkook can fully process, the calico wolf moves—swift and graceful, a blur of color as he steps right up to him.

Golden eyes—bright, warm, catching the sunlight just right—lock onto Jungkook’s own.

Hoseok’s wolf sits down in front of him, large paws pressing into the snow. He’s close, so close, his breath warm even in the cold air. His head tilts slightly, observing Jungkook with an intelligence that makes the his throat tighten.

Then, Seokjin’s wolf moves too, stepping closer until Jungkook is sandwiched between the two betas. Before he can react, both wolves press their faces against him—soft noses brushing against his arms, their warm breath ghosting over his skin as they nuzzle him like he’s something precious.

Jungkook freezes, wide-eyed, overwhelmed by the sudden affection.

A second later, laughter bursts out from beside him.

Jimin and Taehyung are cackling, their giggles high-pitched and delighted as they watch Jungkook get absolutely smothered in affection.

“They like you,” Jimin sings, nearly doubling over.

“No kidding,” Taehyung wheezes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen them be this soft.”

Jungkook, still caught between two massive wolves, doesn’t even know what to say. His heart pounds in his chest as warmth spreads through his limbs—not just from the wolves’ fur but from something deeper, something warm and golden blooming inside him.

Hoseok huffs against his shoulder. Seokjin’s tail flicks behind him, brushing against Jungkook’s ankle.

They’re beautiful, both of them.

And they’re here, pressed against him, like they’ve already decided—he belongs.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, summoning whatever courage lingers in his bones. These wolves are his hyungs, he reminds himself. They’re the same ones who had sat with him in the infirmary, who had helped him when he was weak, who had tucked him into bed with gentle hands.

So, with slow, deliberate movements, Jungkook lifts a hand.

He presses it lightly against Seokjin’s head first, fingers sinking into the thick, velvety fur between his ears. The wolf stills for a second, ears twitching, and then—

A sound.

A deep, rumbly hum, something between a pleased growl and a purr.

Jungkook’s lips part in surprise, but before he can react further, Seokjin leans into his touch, rubbing his massive head against Jungkook’s palm like a cat demanding affection.

Then, Hoseok scoots closer, practically pressing his colorful body into Jungkook’s side. His tail wags so fast that it kicks up little clouds of snow, golden eyes sparkling with delight.

Jungkook huffs out a laugh.

It’s adorable.

Both betas, usually so composed, are now acting like overgrown puppies at the mere brush of his hands. It’s ridiculous. It’s heartwarming. And it makes something soft unfurl in his chest.

He lifts his other hand to stroke Hoseok’s head, fingers threading through the unique patchwork of his fur, and the calico wolf melts. Hoseok’s tail wags even faster, his paws kneading at the snow, and a bright, happy chuff escapes his throat.

“That’s so cute,” Taehyung exclaims, grinning wide.

Jimin giggles beside him, practically vibrating with excitement. “We knew the hyungs’ wolves would like you! You’re just that cute, Kookie.”

Before Jungkook can protest, Jimin ruffles his hair, messing it up even more. “So,” he continues, eyes glimmering. “Are you ready to see us shift too?”

Jungkook swallows, glancing between them. Their wolves…

Jimin tilts his head, smile growing softer. “Our wolves really want to see you again,” he says gently. “They’ve been waiting.”

Taehyung nods eagerly, bouncing a little on his heels. “Yeah! Ever since you freed us, they’ve wanted to be with you properly. To—” He pauses, tilting his head, then beams. “To greet you properly.”

Jungkook exhales slowly.

There’s a deep, unfamiliar warmth curling in his chest, filling the spaces between his ribs. Jimin and Taehyung are excited for this—for him to see them in their true forms. He meets their gazes, then gives a small, determined nod.

“I’m ready.”

The moment their bodies begin to shift, Jungkook holds his breath.

It’s so seamless, so effortless, like the very earth bends to their will. Bones elongate and restructure, muscles ripple and reform, skin gives way to fur in a process so natural it almost looks painless. Almost beautiful.

And then—

There they are.

Two wolves.

One, so white he looks like freshly fallen snow, delicate green eyes shimmering like spring itself. The other, deep russet with warm, amber eyes that glow like fire in the low winter light.

Jungkook remembers them like this.

He remembers how small and trembling they had been in their chains, their fur matted with blood, their bodies littered with wounds. He remembers the way they had pressed against him for warmth, how their frightened eyes had pleaded for something—anything—to save them.

But now…

Now, there is no sign of their suffering. No wounds. No bruises. No desperate, haunted gazes.

They are magnificent.

Healthy. Strong. Whole.

Jungkook breaks.

The emotion swells in his chest too fast, too much, and before he can stop himself, his knees buckle. He drops onto the cold snow, hands trembling as he reaches out, eyes glassy with unshed tears. His throat feels too tight to speak, but he doesn’t need to. The wolves see him—truly see him. And the moment he stretches his hands toward them, making those small, desperate grabby motions, they lunge.

Not in attack.

In affection.

Taehyung gets to him first, his large, snowy form colliding into Jungkook’s chest, pushing him back onto the ground. The omega buries his face into Jungkook’s neck, nuzzling, whimpering, licking—and Jungkook laughs wetly, arms wrapping around him as his body shakes with emotions too big to name.

Then Jimin is there too, his russet fur brushing against Jungkook’s side, his warm amber eyes soft and tender. He leans down, pressing his nose against Jungkook’s cheek before huffing a pleased sound, tail wagging.

Jungkook chokes on another laugh, burying his fingers into their thick, warm fur, pressing himself between them, against them, feeling real for the first time in so, so long.

Because he’s been waiting too. For this moment. For them.

Jungkook presses his face deeper into their fur, breathing in their warmth, and lets a few quiet tears slip free. His fingers stroke through soft tufts of white and russet, gripping at the thick fur as if grounding himself, as if he needs proof that this is real.

That they are real.

The wolves let out small, pleased sounds as he pets them, leaning into his touch, their tails swishing through the snow. Their happiness is palpable, filling the air between them, wrapping around Jungkook like an embrace.

After a while, they let him sit up, but the moment they catch sight of his damp cheeks, their ears twitch back, and whines slip from their throats.

Jungkook laughs, sniffing as he reaches out to scratch behind their ears. "I'm okay," he reassures softly. "I'm just… happy. So happy that you're safe. That you're whole."

The wolves tilt their heads, still watching him intently.

"And I'm grateful," he continues, voice earnest, "that Seokjin-hyung and Hoseok-hyung trusted me enough to show me their wolves, too."

At that, there's a rustle beside him, and before Jungkook can react, two more warm bodies press close.

Seokjin and Hoseok.

Their wolves nuzzle at his head, their large frames settling on either side of him until Jungkook is completely surrounded. They form a protective circle around him, warm bodies pressing close, shielding him from the winter chill.

Jungkook blinks in surprise, heart swelling. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. To deserve them. But he doesn’t get a chance to dwell on the thought for too long. Because from the corner of his eye, movement catches his attention.

Two more figures approaching.

Jungkook stills, breath hitching as he recognizes them immediately.

Thick, powerful bodies. One draped in dark onyx fur, the other gleaming silver in the sun.

Eyes that burn like embers—one pair a deep, commanding crimson, the other a piercing, frostbitten blue. Larger than any of the wolves beside him. Towering. Massive.

His rescuers.

The ones who had saved his life.

Namjoon and Yoongi.

Jungkook is frozen in place, caught in the moment, utterly captivated by the alphas in front of him. There’s something deeply instinctual about it—he doesn’t just see them, he feels them. Feels their presence, their strength, the steady pulse of their authority thrumming in the air like an unspoken command. But it’s not fear that settles in his chest. It’s something softer, something warmer. A quiet, unwavering sense of safety.

Namjoon’s wolf is breathtaking up close. Thick, dense fur the color of polished onyx, gleaming under the pale winter sun. His eyes, deep crimson, flicker with something ancient, something commanding as he steps forward, parting the space between them effortlessly.

The others instinctively shift, creating room for their alpha. Jungkook doesn't have time to think before Namjoon lowers his massive head, pressing his nose gently against Jungkook’s shoulder, inhaling deeply. The warmth of his breath seeps through the layers of Jungkook’s coat, and then—soft, so unbearably soft—Namjoon nudges against his cheek, his muzzle brushing against the delicate skin of Jungkook’s neck.

A full-body shiver rolls through him, but it’s not from the cold.

It’s something so soft that Jungkook doesn’t know how to react. He sits there, blinking up at Namjoon’s wolf with wide, uncertain eyes as the alpha continues to touch him.

Yoongi is next. His silver fur is impossibly beautiful, the strands shifting between pale moonlight and soft smoke. His piercing icy blue eyes meet Jungkook’s for a split second before he leans in, pressing his nose into the collar of the coat. Jungkook stiffens, unsure what to expect, but Yoongi simply takes his time, breathing him in. And then—his tail, that thick plume of silver fur, sways ever so slightly when he catches the scent of his own things wrapped around him. The coat. The flower in his hair.

Jungkook swallows.

Yoongi’s wolf rumbles, something quiet, almost pleased, before he moves up and noses at Jungkook’s temple. Just the barest brush of warmth, a wordless gesture of acknowledgment. Jungkook’s breath catches because it’s the first time Yoongi has ever done something like this. He had always been watchful, always lingering close but distant. Never had he touched Jungkook so freely, never had he let his guard down this much.

The others are watching, but no one interrupts.

Jimin and Taehyung are practically vibrating with excitement, their fluffy tails wagging furiously as they watch their alphas interact with Jungkook. Seokjin and Hoseok are settled nearby, a knowing look in their eyes.

Jungkook exhales, closing his eyes for just a moment. Letting himself be surrounded, letting himself feel it—the warmth, the weight of their presence, the unspoken acceptance in every breath that ghosts over his skin.

For the first time in a long time, he doesn’t feel alone.

Jungkook hesitates, his heart racing in his chest. The air feels charged, thick with unspoken words and emotions, and he’s caught between the desire to connect, to show his affection, and the uncertainty of what’s appropriate. He’s never had this much freedom, never been this close to such immense power, yet here he is, surrounded by wolves and the need to touch them, to feel the warmth of their presence, pulses through him like an instinct he can’t ignore.

He turns his gaze back to Namjoon’s wolf. His massive, imposing figure is calm, his crimson eyes watching Jungkook, but there’s a softness in them now, a quiet acceptance that settles into Jungkook’s chest. The weight of the alpha’s stare makes his hands tremble, and he feels exposed, vulnerable.

The thought of reaching out, of touching Namjoon, a pack alpha, fills him with a deep sense of self-consciousness. Is it too bold? Too forward? Would he be crossing some unspoken line, somehow disrespecting the alpha's position, his power?

His heart races as he slowly, cautiously, stretches his hand toward Namjoon’s head, almost hesitant, testing the waters. His fingers graze the thick, sleek fur just above Namjoon’s brow. The sensation is softer than he expected, the fur so plush beneath his fingertips that he can’t help but linger.

But before he can second-guess himself, Namjoon lowers his head, bringing it closer to Jungkook’s hand, as if silently urging him to touch him more freely. There’s no threat in Namjoon’s movements, no warning. The alpha is simply there, allowing Jungkook this closeness. Allowing him to explore, to feel.

Jungkook’s breath catches, a soft exhale escaping his lips as he reaches out more confidently. His fingers sink into Namjoon’s fur, the touch grounding him. His whole body seems to relax at the connection. Namjoon’s wolf hums under his touch, the sound deep and content, making Jungkook smile despite himself.

But then his gaze shifts to Yoongi. His blue eyes meet Jungkook’s with an intensity that sends a shiver down his spine, but there’s no hardness there, only a quiet, steady warmth that Jungkook feels like he’s been starved for. The presence of Yoongi’s wolf, towering and majestic, overwhelms him, yet there’s a gentleness that Jungkook recognizes now. He feels like he can ask, like it’s okay, but the uncertainty still lingers in his chest.

He swallows, his voice soft and shy, barely above a whisper. “Can I… touch you too, Yoongi-hyung?”

For a moment, there’s silence, only the soft rustling of the snow and the steady breathing of the wolves around them. Then Yoongi’s wolf moves, the air shifting with his presence as he takes one deliberate step forward. His eyes don’t leave Jungkook, and without a word, he lowers himself, his massive body shifting to the ground until he’s almost eye-level. His fur, silver and smooth as moonlight, brushes against the snow, and the moment he’s kneeling, Yoongi’s wolf gives a soft whine—a low, gentle sound that makes Jungkook’s chest tighten.

Yoongi is giving him permission. Not just with his body, but with his entire being. There’s no hesitation now, no distance.

Jungkook’s heart beats wildly in his chest as he slowly reaches out again. His hand trembles just a little as he touches the silken fur of Yoongi’s neck, the wolf’s warmth immediately overwhelming him. Yoongi’s wolf leans into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut in a way that makes Jungkook’s stomach flip. The gentleness of the alpha’s reaction is almost too much to bear—there’s a softness to him that Jungkook hadn’t expected.

Jungkook’s fingers dig deeper into the fur, pressing slightly, exploring the contours of Yoongi’s neck and shoulders. The sensation is surreal, as though everything in him is aligning, making sense. Namjoon, Yoongi, both of them, these alphas who had once been distant, intimidating figures are now offering him their closeness so freely, and Jungkook feels a swell of emotion that he can barely contain.

A tear slips down his cheek. He didn’t even notice it until it reaches his chin.

But it’s not sadness. It’s relief. It’s joy.

These wolves—these alphas—are his pack. And even though he’s been hurt, even though he’s still learning how to trust, in this moment, he finally feels like he belongs. The weight of their acceptance, their touch, washes over him like a wave, and he knows deep in his soul that this—this is where he’s meant to be.

As the wolves nuzzle him one last time, Jungkook feels an overwhelming sense of warmth and affection. They’re all so gentle with him, showing their trust in ways he never thought possible. He lets them touch him, knowing that their closeness, their care, is more than he ever expected from them. He watches as they bound away, powerful and graceful, and he can’t help but wish them well on their run.

It’s only then that he remembers his initial plan. A small, simple desire flickers through him—he should check in on Halmeoni. The thought of her warm smile and her familiar presence feels comforting. He wonders if maybe, just maybe, she’ll feed him today. His stomach rumbles quietly, but there’s no rush. His steps are slow, reflective as he heads toward her stall, feeling a sense of peace in the air.

As he walks toward the village he notices something. It’s subtle at first—the way the villagers glance at him. It’s not hostile, but the looks are... curious. Some seem a little confused, like they’re trying to piece something together. Jungkook furrows his brow, unsure how to interpret it. He’s fairly certain that most of the villagers have already seen him, even when he was sick, even when he first arrived. So why do they look at him like this now?

The stares don’t feel like judgment or animosity. There’s no malice, not really. It’s just... unfamiliar. They’re simply observing him. They don’t say anything, but their glances linger just a little too long.

Jungkook doesn’t let it bother him, though. His feet keep moving, and before long, he’s standing at Halmeoni’s stall, the warm scents of stew and freshly baked bread filling the air. She’s just as he remembers—her bright smile lighting up her face as soon as she spots him.

“Ah, Jungkook-ah!” she exclaims, voice full of affection. “You’re back. It’s good to see you on your feet again.”

Jungkook smiles back, feeling a wave of comfort at her presence. He nods, stepping forward as she ushers him toward the back of the stall, away from the prying eyes of the villagers. There’s a softness in her eyes, a calmness that immediately puts him at ease. Halmeoni always knew how to make him feel safe.

“Come on, come on,” she insists gently, guiding him toward the back with a hand on his arm. “Let’s get you something to eat. I’ll make sure you’re well-fed, and we can talk more quietly. You don’t have to worry about the others here. It’s more peaceful in the back, yes?”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. He lets her lead him, finding comfort in the familiarity of her touch and her words. The back of the stall is quieter, away from the noise of the villagers, the chatter of everyday life. Halmeoni’s kitchen smells even better here—the earthy scent of simmering stew, the richness of spices mixing with the warmth of bread baking. It’s a feeling of home, something Jungkook hasn’t realized he’s been missing.

As she begins to prepare something for him, Jungkook takes a seat at the small table in the back. He can’t help but notice how comforting this small space feels. It’s private, a retreat from the rest of the world.

Halmeoni hums as she works, seemingly content in the quiet of the back. Jungkook watches her, feeling the weight of the past few days catch up to him. There’s a gentle sadness that lingers in his chest, but it’s also mixed with something else. Maybe it’s hope. A quiet kind of hope that feels fragile but also worth holding onto.

“Are you feeling better?” Halmeoni asks, looking over her shoulder with a kind smile. “You’ve been through a lot, Jungkook-ah. But I see you are healing. Stronger every day.”

He nods, offering her a small smile in return. “I am. I feel better. It’s just... strange, sometimes.”

She pauses, turning to face him fully now, a knowing look in her eyes. “It’s not just your body that needs healing, is it?” she asks softly, her voice low, as though she’s letting him in on a secret she’s always known.

Jungkook’s throat tightens at her words, but he doesn’t look away. Instead, he swallows hard, his chest tightening with a feeling he can’t quite name. “No. It’s... it’s a lot to process. But I’m getting there. Slowly.”

Halmeoni nods again, this time as if she understands exactly what he means. She doesn’t press him further, allowing him the space he needs. Instead, she focuses on her work, putting a bowl of warm stew in front of him. It smells so good, so comforting, and Jungkook’s stomach growls again. He’s grateful for the silence, for the way she simply lets him be.

They sit in companionable quiet for a while, the only sound the clinking of spoons and the occasional crackle of the fire. Jungkook feels safe here, more so than anywhere else. For a moment, the weight of everything else falls away. The village, the wolves, the pack—it all feels distant in this space with Halmeoni. He can just be himself.

When he finishes eating, Halmeoni finally speaks again, her voice soft, almost tender.

“I’m glad you’re surrounded by such good people now, Jungkook-ah. I see how they care for you. You don’t have to carry all the pain by yourself anymore.”

Jungkook looks up at her, unsure what to say. There’s a tightness in his chest, a lump in his throat. But Halmeoni simply reaches out, patting his hand gently. Her touch is warm, grounding him in a way that nothing else has.

“I know it’s hard,” she continues, her voice soft but firm. “But you’re not alone. You’ve never been alone, not really. There’s always someone looking out for you.”

Jungkook nods, though his heart feels heavy with the weight of her words. He wants to believe it. He really does. But the past has a way of creeping back in, of reminding him of what he’s lost. Yet in this moment, surrounded by warmth, the tender care of Halmeoni, he feels the smallest flicker of hope. It’s fragile, but it’s there. 

“Thank you, Halmeoni,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

She smiles warmly, her eyes kind. “No need to thank me, Jungkook-ah. I’ll always be here for you.”

Jungkook’s mind races as Halmeoni’s words linger in the air, hanging heavily around him. She looks at him with a soft, knowing smile, and for a moment, Jungkook feels like she can see straight through him, past all his walls, all his carefully guarded thoughts. He shifts uncomfortably under her gaze, unsure of what to say.

"You smell different today," she says again, this time more gently, as if she’s trying to let him process the words.

Jungkook furrows his brow, confusion clouding his thoughts. He tilts his head slightly, trying to piece together her meaning. "Different?" he repeats, his voice faint. He wonders if it’s something to do with Yoongi’s coat—maybe the alpha’s scent clinging to him, lingering after the gift. He had hardly thought twice about it, too absorbed in his emotions from earlier to really consider the implications of wearing it.

“Yoongi-hyung gave me the coat,” Jungkook explains, his voice quieter now, almost uncertain. “maybe that’s why?”

Halmeoni nods, her eyes softening. “Yes, I can smell Yoongi on you. But... it’s more than that, Jungkook-ah.” She pauses, taking a deep breath, as though she’s carefully choosing her words. “You smell like the others as well.”

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat. The others? He can’t help but feel a jolt of panic as he processes her words. "The others?" he repeats, his voice soft with hesitation.

"I've been spending time with them," Jungkook explains.

Halmeoni nods but gives him a knowing look. "Yes, but it's more than that. Their scent clings to you—stronger than it would if you had simply been around them."

Halmeoni’s smile stays gentle, but there’s a knowing glint in her eyes as she continues. "They’ve scented you."

Jungkook blinks, utterly lost now. “Scented?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, a ripple of uncertainty creeping through him.

Halmeoni doesn’t seem surprised at his confusion. She shifts slightly, setting the bowl she was holding down on the counter with a soft clink, then turns to face him fully.

"Scenting," she explains slowly, her voice smooth and comforting, as if she’s telling him a story he’s only just beginning to understand, "is something instinctual. A wolf will scent the people they care about. Family, close friends, or mates", It’s a way to mark someone as belonging to them in a sense. A way of showing affection, of deepening bonds."

Jungkook blinks again, still processing her words. He can’t deny the weight of her explanation, but it’s almost too much to take in all at once. He thinks back to everything that has happened—the wolves’ nuzzling, the warmth and closeness.

"What does that mean?" Jungkook asks quietly, his voice trembling slightly. The idea feels so overwhelming, too complex for him to completely grasp.

Halmeoni’s eyes soften as she nods. "It’s like a claim, in a way. It’s not always about ownership—it’s about protection, care, and bonding."

Her words settle into the quiet space between them, and Jungkook feels his heart race. He’s not sure how to feel. On one hand, it’s a sign of their trust, of how far he’s come with them, how close they’ve become. But on the other hand, it’s a little frightening. The weight of the their affection is heavy, and he’s not sure if he’s ready to carry it just yet.

Halmeoni must see the uncertainty in his face, because she reaches out and places a hand over his, squeezing it gently. "It’s a gift, Jungkook-ah. Don’t be afraid of it. They care for you in ways you may not fully understand, but trust that they will protect you. This is their way of letting you know you are theirs to protect."

Jungkook lets out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of Halmeoni’s words pressing on him. It’s a lot to process, more than he’s prepared for. But somehow, her calm presence helps him absorb the information. The scenting—it feels like a declaration, something deeper than he ever realized. A confirmation of what’s been happening between them, a marking of belonging that he’s not sure how to handle.

"I didn’t mean for this to happen," Jungkook murmurs, his voice tight with the overwhelming emotions swirling within him. "I didn’t ask for it. I don’t... I don’t know if I deserve it."

Halmeoni leans in, her eyes full of understanding, but also something more—wisdom, perhaps, the kind that only someone who has lived through years of experience could possess. "Jungkook-ah," she says softly, her voice steady, "you’ve been through more than most people could ever bear. The love and care of the pack is not something to fear. They see you. They’ve always seen you, even when you couldn’t see yourself."

Jungkook’s chest tightens as his eyes fill with tears. Her words hit deep, stirring something inside him he’s kept buried for so long. "I just don’t want to let them down," he admits, his voice raw. "I don’t know how to be... what they want me to be."

Halmeoni’s hand tightens around his, comforting and strong. "You don’t have to be anything you’re not, Jungkook-ah. You just have to be yourself. And they will always be there to guide you, to protect you. Let them care for you."

Jungkook nods, swallowing hard, but his mind is still racing. He thinks about the wolves, about the scenting, about the love and care they’ve shown him. For a moment, he wonders if he can truly accept all of this—if he can truly belong. But deep down, he knows that Halmeoni is right. The hyungs' care isn’t something to fear. It’s something to cherish.

As he sits there in the quiet of the back of the stall, surrounded by the comforting presence of Halmeoni and the warmth of the stew she’s made for him, he finally feels a small, tentative hope bloom inside of him. 

After making sure Jungkook has eaten to his heart’s content, Halmeoni finally lets him go, sending him off with a fond pat on the cheek and a small bundle of extra food tucked into his pocket—just in case. Jungkook thanks her with a grateful smile before stepping out into the crisp winter air once more, determination settling in his chest.

Today, he’s going to be brave.

He’s going to try and interact with members of the pack.

The thought alone is both thrilling and terrifying. He doesn’t know where to go or who to approach. The whole idea of socializing, of being welcomed into conversations and friendships, is so foreign to him that it makes his stomach twist. But at the same time, it fills him with a strange kind of excitement. He wants to make friends. He’s never had friends before.

So, he walks.

Letting his feet take him wherever they wish, he follows a narrow path winding through the trees, his breath visible in the cold air. The snow crunches beneath his boots as he moves forward, heart thudding with anticipation. The path eventually opens into another clearing—one he hasn’t seen before.

This one is lively.

It’s larger than the training grounds and seems to be used for sports. Shifters of all ages are scattered across the open space, engaged in what appears to be some kind of game. There’s laughter, shouts of encouragement, the thud of feet against packed snow, and the occasional flash of fur as some of the players shift mid-motion.

Jungkook pauses, watching with wide eyes.

He isn’t familiar with games.

Back in his old village, the concept of fun wasn’t something people believed in. Survival had been the only priority. There had never been room for laughter, for running simply because you wanted to, for playing. Watching now, seeing how effortless it is for the pack members to enjoy themselves, something warm swells in his chest.

Since he can’t participate—not with his crutches, and certainly not with his shyness—he opts to settle on a wooden table near the edge of the playing field. From here, he can observe without feeling like an intruder.

For now, just being here is enough.

Laughter and playful shouts fill the crisp air, and for a moment, he simply observes, unsure if he should be here at all. He had thought that sitting at the edge of the clearing would make him invisible, but he quickly realizes that isn’t the case.

A familiar figure turns his head in Jungkook’s direction, pausing mid-step. Kyungmin. Jungkook recognizes him instantly as the alpha he had met in the dining hall with Sungjae. The moment their eyes meet, Kyungmin’s expression brightens, and before Jungkook can even think to look away, the alpha starts making his way over with two women beside him.

“Hey, Jungkook!” Kyungmin calls out, his voice as warm as his easy-going smile. The familiarity in his tone makes something in Jungkook’s chest loosen.

The two women approach with him, both of them radiating the same welcoming energy. “It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook,” the shorter of the two says. “I’m Eunha, and this is Sejong.”

Jungkook finds out that Eunha is a beta and Sejong an alpha, and that the two are mates.

Jungkook blinks at the information, surprised that they offered it so easily. But there’s no weight behind the words, no expectation—just a simple statement, like telling him their names. It’s strange and unfamiliar, but oddly comforting.

Not knowing what else to say, he clears his throat. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Eunha and Sejong smile at his response, and Kyungmin gestures toward the field behind them. “We’re in the middle of a game. Have you ever played before?”

Jungkook glances at the players, who are still engaged in their game, moving fluidly between each other. He shakes his head. “I don’t… really know what you’re playing.”

Eunha and Sejong exchange a quick glance before breaking into bright smiles. “It’s a variation of tag,” Sejong explains, her tone warm and inviting. “But with a bit more strategy involved.” Eunha nods eagerly. “Instead of just running, players have to work in pairs—one has to protect their partner while also trying to tag others. It’s great for teamwork and reflexes.”

Jungkook listens intently, intrigued. The idea of playing a game just for fun is still foreign to him, but the way they speak about it makes it seem like something exciting rather than childish. Kyungmin, who has been watching Jungkook’s reaction closely, tilts his head. “Do you want to try?”

Jungkook startles slightly, his grip on his crutches tightening. “Oh, I—” He hesitates, glancing down at his injured leg. There’s no way he could keep up, not like this. Sejong must catch onto his thoughts because she waves her hand dismissively. “You don’t have to run. You could be a ‘tactician’ instead.”

At Jungkook’s questioning look, Eunha grins. “It means you’d help direct a team from the sidelines. Players listen to you and follow your strategies. It’s an important role!”

Jungkook blinks in surprise. They actually want him to be part of this? His whole life, he had been pushed to the background, treated like an inconvenience. Yet here, they’re not just acknowledging him—they’re inviting him to join.

“I—” He swallows, suddenly feeling self-conscious under their expectant gazes. But then, he remembers why he came out today in the first place. He wanted to try. He wanted to be brave.

So he takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay. I’ll try.”

Eunha claps her hands excitedly, and Sejong chuckles. “Great! You can be on our team.”

Jungkook lets out a small, nervous laugh, but deep down, he feels something warm settle in his chest. Maybe today won’t be so scary after all.

--

After an hour of playing, Jungkook surprises everyone with his sharp instincts and strategic mind, helping his team win every round. Laughter and playful complaints fill the air as the other shifters argue that next time, Jungkook has to be on their side. Their enthusiasm warms him, a kind of acceptance he’s never known before.

When the game winds down, they all make their way back to the bench to gather their belongings. Jungkook turns to the others, offering a sincere thanks for letting him join in, but they brush it off with smiles, telling him he’s welcome anytime—he’s one of them now.

As they finish up, Kyungmin, Sejong, and Eunha exchange glances before turning to Jungkook. Sejong grins, her eyes bright with excitement. “We’re heading over to see the Moon Festival preparations. Do you want to come with us?”

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard. “The Moon Festival?” He shakes his head slightly. “I… I have no idea what that is.”

Eunha chuckles. “Then you definitely have to come. It’s one of the biggest celebrations in the village.”

Jungkook hesitates for only a second before nodding. “I’d love to.” And as they start walking together, he feels something light bloom in his chest—something like belonging. As they make their way through the village, Jungkook listens intently while Kyungmin, Sejong, and Eunha explain the Moon Festival.

“It’s a celebration we hold around this time every year,” Eunha says, smiling as she tucks her hands into her coat. “It’s our way of honoring the Moon Goddess.”

Jungkook tilts his head, curious. “So, is it… a religious thing?”

“Not exactly,” Sejong chimes in. “It’s more of a tradition now. We decorate the village with lanterns and ornaments, but the festival itself is all about food, music, and dancing. It’s simple, but it’s fun.”

Jungkook nods slowly, trying to picture it. He’s never experienced anything like that before. Celebrations weren’t a thing in his old village—life had been about survival, not joy. The idea of an entire festival dedicated to warmth and community is foreign, but it sounds… nice.

“But the most important part,” Kyungmin adds with a grin, “happens at the end of the night.”

Jungkook looks between them, confused. “What happens then?”

Sejong and Eunha exchange knowing smiles before Eunha answers. “The Flower crown ceremony. All the single shifters gather in front of the elders, and each one is given a flower crown.”

Jungkook blinks. “A flower crown?”

Sejong chuckles. “It’s a blessing, in a way. A wish for them to find a good mate in the future. But it also helps the pack keep track of who’s single.”

Jungkook’s face heats at that, and Kyungmin laughs. “Yeah, it’s basically a very public way of letting everyone know who’s still available.”

Jungkook swallows. “Oh.”

Sejong nudges him playfully. “Don’t worry, it’s all in good fun. No one takes it too seriously.”

Jungkook nods, but he can’t help but wonder—does this mean he’ll be given a flower crown, too? The thought sends an odd flutter through his chest, and he suddenly finds himself even more curious about this festival.

Jungkook hesitates for a moment before asking, “So… will I be given one too?”

Eunha gasps, her eyes lighting up. “Of course! You’re single, so you’ll be getting a flower crown like everyone else, if you want to participate that is.”

Sejong grins, nudging him playfully. “Actually, a lot of people are excited about it.”

Jungkook blinks, confused. “Huh? Why?”

The two women exchange amused glances before giggling. “Because it makes it official,” Eunha explains. “It’ll be a statement that you’re single. And let’s just say… there are quite a few shifters who have been waiting for confirmation.”

Jungkook’s mouth parts slightly, not fully understanding. “Waiting? For what?”

Kyungmin snickers, arms crossed over his chest. “To see if they have a chance with you.”

Jungkook freezes, eyes going wide. His cheeks flush instantly, the warmth crawling all the way to the tips of his ears. “W-what?”

Sejong laughs, clearly enjoying his reaction. “Jungkook, you do realize you’re a pretty popular topic of conversation among unmated shifters, right?”

Eunha nods eagerly. “People think you’re really pretty, that you'd be a good mate.”

Jungkook stares at them, flustered beyond belief. People in the pack find him pretty? They actually talk about him? About… wanting a chance with him? It’s such a foreign thought that he doesn’t even know how to process it.

Kyungmin chuckles and reaches out to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. “Don’t worry too much about it,” he says, grinning. “Not like any of them will dare get too close, anyway.”

Jungkook frowns slightly. “What do you mean?”

Kyungmin gestures vaguely in his direction. “With the way you’ve been scented? No unmated shifter is going to risk stepping on any toes.”

Jungkook stiffens. Scented? He hasn’t been—

And then, as if a puzzle piece clicks into place, he remembers what Halmeoni had told him earlier. About how his scent was almost completely masked, overpowered by the scent of the pack. About how scenting was a statement. A warning.

Realization settles in his chest like a weight, and for a brief moment, all he can do is stare at Kyungmin, mind racing. Because if what he’s saying is true, then that means…

The pack had claimed him in a way he hadn’t even realized.

--

Spending the entire day with Kyungmin, Eunha, and Sejong feels unexpectedly natural. Jungkook had never really had friends before, never had people who would tease him over silly things or share small, meaningless stories just to make each other laugh. But today, they did exactly that.

Eunha and Sejong had told him about how they met—how Sejong, too confident for her own good, had tried to impress Eunha by shifting mid-jump over a river… and promptly fallen in. Jungkook had laughed so hard he nearly choked on air.

Kyungmin had ranted about how he’d stubbed his pinky toe the other day and genuinely thought he was going to die from the pain, only for Sejong to roll her eyes and call him dramatic.

And, maybe funniest of all, they’d told him about Halmeoni slapping a poor beta upside the head just the day before for wasting food.

Jungkook had felt warm inside the whole time. Light. Happy.

They showed him every little detail of the festival decorations—cute paper lanterns, delicate ribbons tied to trees, small flower garlands placed along the streets. The village was transforming before his eyes, and Jungkook felt like he was part of something for the first time in his life.

Later, they all ate together in the dining hall, sharing food and laughter as if they had always known each other. It was a strange but wonderful feeling, being included so easily.

By the time the sky deepens into darker shades of blue, Jungkook feels exhaustion creeping into his limbs. He lets out a small yawn before telling them, “I think I should head back now. It’s getting late.”

Eunha pouts, but she nods in understanding. “Of course. You must be exhausted after today.”

Kyungmin grins. “Don’t forget, the festival is tomorrow. You’re coming, right?”

Jungkook nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah. I’d love to.”

Sejong ruffles his hair. “Good. Then we’ll see you tomorrow.”

They bid him farewell with warm smiles and teasing remarks, and as Jungkook makes his way back, he realizes something—

today had been one of the best days he’d ever had.

Notes:

Hey again! 👋💖

Just a cute little chapter of Jungkook making friends! ✨ He’s been so brave because, let’s be real, making friends is HARD—especially when you’re an introvert like me omg 😭💀

Take care, y’all! 💕💫

Chapter 24: Restless Whispers

Summary:

Some more quality time

The moment Jungkook steps into the clearing where the infirmary stands, he's met with the sight of his hyungs gathered in front of the door, deep in conversation. The golden glow of the lanterns overhead casts a warm light over them, their laughter blending into the crisp evening air. It’s such a simple scene, but something about it makes Jungkook’s chest ache with emotion.

He doesn't know why he feels so happy—he’s had a great day, made new friends, explored the village, and even laughed more than he has in years. But somehow, seeing them, his hyungs, waiting there, chatting like they belong together, is what makes him feel the happiest of all.

Before he can even take another step, Jimin and Taehyung notice him. Their eyes light up, and in an instant, they’re sprinting toward him.

“Jungkookie!” Jimin cries, throwing himself at him like they haven’t seen each other in weeks instead of just a few hours.

Taehyung isn’t any better. He all but plucks the bag of snacks Halmeoni had given Jungkook right out of his pocket before wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug. “You were gone all day!” he whines dramatically. “Do you know how much we missed you?”

Jimin nods enthusiastically, arms tightening around Jungkook as he nuzzles into his shoulder. “So much. It was horrible. Never leave us again.”

Jungkook laughs breathlessly, warmth flooding his system as he lets them cling to him. “You guys are acting like you weren’t the one who went on a run.”

“But we missed you!” Taehyung insists, pouting. “You were all alone in the village. Without us.”

Jimin huffs. “Unacceptable.”

Jungkook shakes his head fondly, unable to stop himself from hugging them back just as tight. “I missed you too,” he admits softly. And he really, really had.

Jungkook laughs softly as he pulls away from the omegas, their warmth still lingering around him. “I wasn’t alone, though,” he tells them, his voice light with excitement. “I… I actually made some friends.”

Jimin and Taehyung both freeze. Their eyes go comically wide before they step back just slightly, their noses twitching as they subtly sniff at him. Then, as if coming to a realization, they exchange a look.

“We can tell,” Taehyung hums, tilting his head. “You smell different.”

“Not in a bad way!” Jimin reassures quickly, waving his hands. “Just… like other people. Faintly. And…” His nose wrinkles slightly before his brows lift in amusement. “Like alpha.”

Jungkook blinks. “Alpha?”

“Mhm,” Taehyung murmurs, thoughtful. “Not just anyone. A specific alpha.”

Jimin nudges Taehyung, and the two of them mumble something between themselves—words too hushed for Jungkook to catch, but he hears Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s names slip through. Then Jimin sighs dramatically and links their arms. “Well, they’re so not going to be happy about that.”

Taehyung giggles, but before Jungkook can ask what they mean, they’re tugging him forward, guiding him toward the others.

Seokjin and Hoseok light up the moment they see him. “There’s our little explorer!” Hoseok grins, reaching out as soon as Jungkook is within arm’s length.

Seokjin gets to him first, pulling him into a tight hug. “Were you visiting the village?” he fusses, hands patting over Jungkook’s head, smoothing over his cheeks, inspecting him like he’s checking for any sign of exhaustion. “How’s your leg?”

“I was! And I’m fine,” Jungkook reassures quickly, smiling at the concern. “I used the crutches the whole time.”

Seokjin hums, clearly not entirely satisfied, but he strokes Jungkook’s cheek one last time before finally stepping back.

Then, before Jungkook can react, Hoseok is behind him, wrapping him up in a backhug, his warmth pressing snug against Jungkook’s. “Good job, Jungkookie,” he murmurs, nuzzling against the nape of Jungkook’s neck. The touch is affectionate, lingering just long enough to make Jungkook’s breath hitch.

And then—Jungkook swears he feels it, soft and fleeting—Hoseok’s lips pressing a brief kiss against his nape before pulling away.

Jungkook shivers. Did that really just happen?

He barely has time to process it before Hoseok winks at him, grinning like he knows exactly what he just did.

Jungkook barely has time to catch his breath after Hoseok’s teasing before Namjoon steps forward. The alpha’s presence is warm and steady, like the quiet strength of a mountain, and Jungkook feels it settle over him before Namjoon even speaks.

Then, before Jungkook can react, Namjoon lifts a hand and ruffles his hair.

Jungkook goes completely still.

His brain short-circuits as Namjoon’s fingers comb through his strands, the touch gentle, affectionate. It’s not hurried or careless—there’s a softness to it, like Namjoon wants to make sure Jungkook knows the gesture is intentional. That it means something.

Namjoon smiles down at him. “Hey, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches.

“Did you have a good day?” Namjoon asks, his voice deep and soothing, filled with genuine curiosity.

Jungkook knows he should answer. His mouth even opens to respond. But his brain refuses to work, stuck on the fact that Namjoon is touching him.

The pack alpha is ruffling his hair. Gently.

The moment stretches too long. His answer is several seconds too late for it to be natural.

“Y-yeah,” he stammers, eyes wide, body frozen under Namjoon’s touch. “I—I had a nice day. I… I had fun in the village.”

Namjoon doesn’t seem to notice Jungkook’s inner crisis. He just smiles, looking pleased. “I’m glad,” he says, voice filled with warmth as his hand lingers just a second longer before finally pulling away.

Jungkook lets out a shaky breath, barely processing the loss of warmth before another figure steps into his space.

Yoongi.

The alpha doesn’t say anything as he steps close, quiet as always. But his hands move with purpose, reaching for the front of Jungkook’s coat.

Jungkook watches, unable to move, as Yoongi fixes the fabric, making sure it’s closed properly. His fingers work deftly, tugging at the edges, smoothing them down, his touch so light that it sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine.

Then, once satisfied, Yoongi’s fingers trail upwards—toward the delicate flower still tucked in Jungkook’s hair.

Jungkook doesn’t breathe.

Yoongi’s touch is impossibly gentle as he adjusts the small bloom, making sure it’s still in place. His eyes flicker over Jungkook’s face, unreadable, before he tilts his head slightly. And then—before Jungkook can even process what’s happening—Yoongi reaches out and flicks his fingers under Jungkook’s chin.

Jungkook squeaks.

It’s such a light touch, brief but undeniably teasing. Almost like Yoongi was testing him, seeing how he’d react.

Jungkook’s face burns.

He doesn’t have to see his reflection to know that he’s turning as red as autumn leaves. The heat floods from his ears down to his throat, spreading across his chest, as Yoongi finally steps back, seemingly satisfied.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then—

Jimin and Taehyung howl with laughter.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung cackles, clutching his stomach. “His face!”

Jimin wheezes, clapping his hands. “He’s so red! Jungkookie, are you breathing??”

Jungkook barely manages to shoot them a weak glare before ducking his head, completely mortified.

But over the roaring embarrassment, he hears Namjoon’s soft chuckle, the sound warm and fond. And when he risks a glance at Yoongi, the alpha’s lips are curled ever so slightly, eyes glittering with amusement.

Jungkook buries his burning face in his hands.

Seokjin claps his hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. His expression is firm, leaving no room for arguments.

“Alright, that’s enough standing out here in the cold,” he declares, his tone full of finality. “Jungkook, you’re coming inside. I won’t allow you to stay out here any longer than necessary, not in your condition.”

Jungkook frowns, blinking up at him. “Hyung, I’m not sick.”

Seokjin fixes him with a sharp look, hands on his hips. “No, but you’re human. And humans get sick more easily in the cold.” He gestures at Jungkook’s coat, which is snugly wrapped around him. “Even with Yoongi’s coat, you’re still more fragile than the rest of us. I’m not taking any chances.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest, but Seokjin raises a finger, cutting him off before he can get a single word out.

“Nope. Don’t even try. Inside. Now.”

Jungkook huffs, but he doesn’t resist when Namjoon places a warm hand on his back, gently leading him toward the infirmary. The others follow without question, moving in sync, as if this decision had already been unanimously agreed upon the moment Seokjin spoke.

Once inside, the warmth of the room immediately seeps into Jungkook’s skin, easing the chill from his fingers. He doesn’t even realize how much colder he had been until the contrast settles over him like a comforting embrace.

Before he can fully process it, Taehyung and Jimin are on him.

They don’t just sit next to him—they cling to him, as if he had been gone for weeks instead of just a single day. Taehyung curls up against his side, resting his head on Jungkook’s shoulder, while Jimin presses in from the other side, tucking himself close. Without hesitation, they each take one of Jungkook’s hands, their fingers sliding between his, holding tight.

Jungkook stills for a second.

Then warmth blooms in his chest, deep and overwhelming.

The interlocked fingers, the way their bodies press into his, the quiet reassurance of their presence—it makes him feel like he belongs.

The others watch them, eyes soft. There’s something fond in Namjoon’s gaze, something affectionate in Seokjin’s small smile. Hoseok watches with warm amusement, while Yoongi simply hums under his breath, his expression relaxed.

Jungkook shifts slightly, adjusting his hold so that his grip on Taehyung and Jimin’s hands is firmer, more intentional.

He swallows, looking up at the others. “How was your run?” he asks softly.

The question seems to break the lingering silence, because Namjoon lets out a deep chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was good,” he says. “Refreshing.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok agrees, stretching his arms. “The air was crisp. Perfect for a run.”

Yoongi just grunts in confirmation, shifting slightly where he sits, but Jungkook catches the way his gaze flickers toward him—sharp, assessing, as if checking him over.

Jungkook feels the attention, the unspoken care wrapped in it, and grips Taehyung and Jimin’s hands just a little tighter.

Jungkook doesn’t notice it at first.

He’s too caught up in recounting his day, voice full of quiet excitement as he tells them everything—the way Halmeoni had fussed over him, stuffing him full of food before sending him off with snacks, how he had wandered through the village before stumbling upon Kyungmin, Eunha, and Sejong at the sports field, how they had invited him to play with them, and how he had, for the first time in his life, felt like part of a group, like he had friends.

But then, he notices the shift.

It’s subtle at first—the way Namjoon’s shoulders go stiff, the way Yoongi’s eyes darken ever so slightly. Seokjin’s lips press together, his usual soft expression faltering, while Hoseok, who had been smiling just moments ago, now looks oddly unreadable.

Jungkook hesitates, glancing between them. Did I say something wrong?

But none of them interrupt him, so he pushes forward, telling them about how he and his new friends had eaten together at the dining hall, and how they had explained the Moon Festival to him.

That’s when everything changes.

A sharp pause.

The room stills.

Jimin and Taehyung, who had been holding his hands so tightly, suddenly sit up straighter, eyes going wide.

The alphas, however, react differently.

Namjoon blinks, then exhales, rubbing his temples as if something just dawned on him. Hoseok lets out a small curse under his breath, barely audible, while Yoongi’s fingers twitch against his knee, the only telltale sign of his own realization. Seokjin stares at Jungkook like he just told them he plans on jumping into a frozen lake.

Jungkook looks around, confused. “What?”

Seokjin is the first to speak, groaning as he rubs a hand down his face. “We completely forgot about the festival.”

Hoseok lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “With everything that’s been going on, it just… slipped my mind.”

Yoongi exhales sharply through his nose, muttering something under his breath.

Namjoon sighs, folding his arms across his chest. “We should have been the ones to tell you about it, not—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head again.

Jungkook frowns, glancing at them all. “It’s not a big deal,” he says carefully. “Kyungmin and the others explained it pretty well.”

The omegas exchange glances, then turn to Jungkook, still holding his hands.

Jimin tilts his head. “Did they tell you about the flower crown ceremony?”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah. Apparently, it’s a blessing from the elders for single shifters.”.

At Jungkook’s words, the room falls into a brief, almost unnatural silence. The warmth of the infirmary, once filled with soft laughter and idle conversation, now feels charged with something else. Jungkook shifts slightly under the weight of their stares, his fingers unconsciously tightening around the hands of the omegas still wrapped around his own. Their warmth grounds him, but it doesn’t stop the small tendrils of anxiety from curling in his chest.

Had he said something wrong?

He glances between them, scanning their faces for any indication of what he might have done to warrant such a reaction. The alphas, especially, seem different. Namjoon’s expression remains carefully neutral, though his fingers flex slightly where they rest against his knee, as if resisting the urge to fidget.

Yoongi, who had been leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed, lets out a slow, deliberate breath through his nose. Seokjin’s lips are pursed, his usual softness momentarily replaced with something else, and Hoseok, ever the most expressive, has a glint of something sharp in his usually warm eyes.

Jimin and Taehyung are the ones to break the silence first. “So,” Jimin starts, his voice intentionally light, but Jungkook can hear the tension underneath. “Are you going to do it?”

Jungkook tilts his head. “Do what?”

Taehyung clicks his tongue, leaning in closer until his nose is practically brushing against Jungkook’s cheek. “Are you going to participate in the flower crown ceremony?”

The way he says it makes Jungkook feel like he’s missing something important. But there’s no reason not to, right? He likes flowers. The idea of a delicate crown being placed on his head, the petals brushing against his hair, sounds… nice. Peaceful, even.

“I think I’d like to,” he admits, voice softer now, unsure why it feels like such a loaded statement. “I like flowers… and it sounds like a pretty tradition.”

If he thought the silence before was bad, this one is worse.

Jungkook swallows, fingers twitching where they rest against Jimin’s palm. “Did I say something wrong?” he asks, hesitant.

Immediately, the omegas tighten their grip on him. “No, of course not,” Jimin reassures, but there’s something forced about the brightness in his tone. Taehyung nods beside him, but his lips are pressed into a thin line, his usually expressive face unreadable.

The betas exchange a glance before Hoseok finally speaks up, his voice carrying that same warmth but with something else beneath it—something protective. “It’s not that, Kookie,” he says, “it’s just…” He trails off, as if unsure of how to phrase it.

Namjoon is the one who finishes the thought. “The ceremony isn’t just about getting a flower crown,” the alpha says, watching Jungkook carefully. “It’s a public declaration of your status—an announcement that you’re single, open to courtship.” His voice is steady, measured, but there’s an unmistakable weight to his words.

Jungkook blinks. “Oh.”

Suddenly, Kyungmin’s words from earlier make more sense. People were excited for him to receive a flower crown because… because it would confirm that he was available. That he wasn’t taken. That anyone who wanted to could pursue him.

His face heats up, embarrassment creeping up his neck. He hadn’t thought about it like that. To him, it had just been about the flowers.

Yoongi shifts slightly, his sharp gaze trained on Jungkook. “Are you sure you want to do it?”

There’s something about the way he asks that makes Jungkook’s stomach flip. But he doesn’t know why. The logical part of him knows that there’s nothing wrong with participating. He’s not tied to anyone, and no one has ever expressed any interest in him before. He has the right to stand there with the other single shifters and receive a crown like everyone else.

And yet…

He looks around the room again, at the way they’re all watching him so intently. At the way the warmth in their eyes is undercut by something else. Something almost possessive.

His heart stutters in his chest.

“I… I don’t know,” he finally murmurs, suddenly unsure.

At Jungkook’s words, the air in the room shifts, thickening. He doesn’t notice it at first, too caught up in his own explanation, his voice soft but sincere as he tries to downplay the situation.

“It’s not like people would be interested in me,” he says, brows furrowing slightly as he looks down at his lap. His fingers unconsciously play with the fabric of his borrowed coat. “I mean… I’m human, and they’re wolves.”

He lifts his head slightly to glance at them, expecting to see them nodding in agreement, maybe even teasing him for worrying about something so ridiculous. Instead, their expressions are serious, their bodies unnaturally still. He blinks, shifting in place, the silence stretching on longer than it should.

Undeterred, he pushes forward, attempting to explain himself further. “For me, it would’ve just been about the flowers. And trying to be part of the pack.” His voice turns a little wistful at the end, his fingers curling into the sleeves of his coat. “I just… I want to fit in, you know?”

Still, no one speaks.

Jungkook feels a small flicker of unease, but he ignores it, determined to lighten the mood. “Besides, Kyungmin said something, but he was totally joking.” He lets out a small, nervous laugh. “He said that some people were waiting for me to receive a flower crown.” He shakes his head. “But that can’t be true. He was definitely just teasing.”

The reaction is immediate.

Every single one of them stiffens, tension rolling through the room like a slow-moving storm. Jungkook notices the subtle but unmistakable way their postures shift—Jimin and Taehyung’s fingers tightening ever so slightly around his own, Hoseok’s usual easy smile replaced by a sharp flicker of something annoyed, Seokjin’s lips pressing into a thin line.

Yoongi’s jaw ticks, a slow inhale the only sign of movement, while Namjoon—

Namjoon’s expression is the hardest to decipher, his brows furrowed just slightly, his gaze locked onto Jungkook with a weight that makes his breath catch.

Jungkook swallows. “…What?”

The omegas exchange a look, something silent passing between them before Jimin clears his throat. “Kyungmin said that?”

Jungkook nods. “Yes, but like I said, he was just joking.”

This time, it’s Yoongi who speaks, his voice low and steady. “Did he sound like he was joking?”

Jungkook hesitates, thinking back to the conversation. Kyungmin had laughed when he said it, but… there had been something about his tone. Something that, now that Jungkook really thinks about it, hadn’t sounded quite as playful as he’d assumed.

“…I mean…” he starts, suddenly unsure. “I thought so?”

The way everyone reacts to that answer only makes him more confused. It’s subtle, but it’s there—the way Namjoon’s fingers curl slightly into fists against his knees, the way Seokjin exhales through his nose, a sharp but quiet breath. The way Taehyung and Jimin seem to cling to him just a little bit tighter.

Jungkook doesn’t understand.

He looks between them, heart beginning to pick up speed in his chest. “Why are you all acting like this?” His voice is small, confused. “It’s not like it’s true, right? No one’s actually interested in me.”

Namjoon is the first to break the thick silence, exhaling softly as he leans back, shaking his head as if trying to dispel the tension that had settled over the room.

“It’s up to you, Jungkook,” he says, his voice steady but careful, as if choosing his words with precision. His eyes meet Jungkook’s, warm but firm. “If you want to participate, you can. No one is stopping you.”

Jungkook hesitates, glancing around at the others. The tension hasn’t fully lifted, but they seem to be waiting for Namjoon to finish. He looks back at the alpha, chewing on his lower lip.

“But,” Namjoon continues, “you should be aware that participating isn’t just symbolic. Not for shifters.”

Jungkook frowns slightly, confused. “What do you mean?”

Namjoon tilts his head, watching him closely. “It’s a statement,” he explains, slow and deliberate. “Standing in front of the elders and accepting a flower crown isn’t just about the flowers. It tells the pack that you are open to the idea of being courted.”

Jungkook blinks. “Courted?”

He hears Jimin and Taehyung giggle beside him, and when he turns to look, Jimin is biting his lip, eyes twinkling, while Taehyung looks downright mischievous.

Seokjin sighs fondly, reaching out to smooth Jungkook’s hair as if he’s a clueless pup. “It means that you’re open to someone pursuing you romantically,” he says, smiling despite the clear frustration in his voice.

Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh.”

Hoseok chuckles, resting his chin on his palm as he watches Jungkook process the information. “Yeah, oh,” he teases lightly. “It’s how shifters express their interest in someone. When we court someone, we make our intentions known. It’s not just flirting—it’s serious. It means we want to try and win that person over.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “And… how do you do that?”

“Through a gift,” Yoongi answers this time, voice low but steady. “Courting usually starts with an offering. It’s something meaningful, something personal. If the person accepts it, that means they accept the courting. Although a gift is not always necessary."

Jungkook takes a moment to absorb that information, his brows knitting together. “And… what does that mean? Accepting the courting?”

Namjoon watches him carefully, his gaze serious for a moment before he finally answers. “It means you’re giving that person a chance. That you’re open to the idea of them being your mate.”

Jungkook’s breath catches. His heart stumbles in his chest

Mates.

The weight of the word settles over him, and suddenly, the idea of standing in front of the elders with a flower crown on his head doesn’t feel so simple anymore.

Jungkook exhales, a little overwhelmed by everything he’s just learned but grateful for the explanation. He offers them a small, sheepish smile. “Thanks for telling me. I—” He scratches the back of his head, letting out a short laugh. “I feel like I just avoided a disaster. Imagine if I accepted someone’s courting without even knowing what it meant.”

He means it as a joke, but the reaction he gets is… not what he expected.

No one laughs.

In fact, the room falls into a silence so thick it almost feels suffocating. The expressions around him shift subtly—Yoongi’s gaze darkens, Namjoon presses his lips into a thin line, and Hoseok’s usual warm demeanor cools just slightly. Even Seokjin looks distinctly unimpressed.

Jungkook blinks, suddenly feeling like he said something wrong. “Uh—”

A yawn interrupts his thoughts, sneaking up on him before he can stop it. He barely has time to cover his mouth, and when he’s done, he finds Hoseok watching him with an amused but knowing smile.

“Alright, that’s enough for tonight,” Hoseok announces, stretching as he stands. “Our little human is tired, and we should let him rest before he starts overthinking again.”

Jungkook pouts at that, but he can’t deny that his body is growing heavy with exhaustion. His limbs ache pleasantly from the day’s activities, and the warmth of his packmates makes the drowsiness even harder to fight.

Jimin and Taehyung waste no time clinging to him, but this time, before they can attack, Jungkook is the one who moves first. He wraps his arms around both omegas, pulling them into a tight embrace.

They freeze for half a second before beaming.

“You’re hugging us first this time!” Jimin says, sounding delighted as he buries his face into Jungkook’s shoulder.

Taehyung hums happily, squeezing him back. “You’re getting braver pup,” he teases. “I like it.”

Jungkook laughs softly, warmth blooming in his chest. They eventually pull away, and one by one, the others step in to say their goodbyes. Seokjin ruffles his hair fondly, then pats his cheek for good measure. “Get some sleep, okay? And don’t overthink things.”

Hoseok follows suit, running a hand through Jungkook’s hair before squeezing his shoulder. “We’ll see you tomorrow, pup.”

Namjoon steps up next, smiling as he cups Jungkook’s face with one large hand and pats his cheek gently. His touch is warm, grounding. “Sleep well, Jungkook-ah.”

And then finally, Yoongi. He doesn’t say anything, just reaches out and fixes Jungkook’s coat again, like he did earlier. Then, with a flick of his fingers, he taps under Jungkook’s chin again—quick and teasing, but somehow still so intimate.

Jungkook swears his face burns.

He barely hears Taehyung and Jimin giggling beside him as the alphas step back, filing out one by one.

“Goodnight, Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon murmurs one last time before closing the door behind them.

The room feels quieter without them, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets out a small sigh, settling back onto his bed, and for the first time in a long time, he feels something warm settle in his chest.

Belonging.

--

The infirmary is silent. Too silent.

Not the kind of silence that soothes, wrapping gently around a weary body like a lullaby. No, this silence is thick, unnatural, pressing against the walls, swallowing the air. It is the kind of silence that comes before something terrible.

Jungkook stirs beneath the heavy warmth of Yoongi’s coat, the familiar scent wrapping around him like a fragile tether to safety. But something is wrong. The quiet isn’t peaceful, it is suffocating. The shadows in the room feel too deep, stretching unnaturally as the moonlight dulls, as if something unseen lurks just beyond his reach.

A shiver crawls down his spine, an icy dread curling in his stomach before he even fully wakes. His dreams shift, the soft remnants of warmth and security melting into something cold. Unforgiving.

Then—

A hand clamps over his mouth.

Jungkook’s eyes snap open, but the darkness is absolute. Panic floods his system, sharp and suffocating. His body locks up, instincts screaming, but it’s too late—he is pinned, unable to move, the press of a rough palm silencing the cry that claws its way up his throat.

The scent hits him next. Bitter. Acrid. Wrong.

His stomach churns violently. His heart seizes, lungs refusing to expand. He knows this scent.

Sungil.

A muffled whimper escapes against the oppressive hand, his entire body trembling as icy terror floods his veins. He thrashes, panic overriding all logic, but fingers tangle in his hair, yanking his head back sharply. Pain sparks at the base of his skull, his breath stuttering.

A voice slithers through the dark, smooth, poisonous.

“Shh.” A chuckle, low and cruel. “Wouldn’t want to wake your little friends, would we?”

Jungkook goes rigid.

The grip in his hair tightens, forcing his head back further, until the strain burns down his neck. His wide, tear-filled eyes barely catch the gleam of Sungil’s in the dim light. Cold. Amused. Predatory.

“You didn’t think you could run from me forever, did you?”

Jungkook shakes his head wildly, tears spilling, though he doesn’t even know what he’s denying. His mind is spiraling, memories crashing into him all at once—the icy grip that had once dragged him through the snow, the sting of bruises that never had time to fade, the hopelessness, the fear, the nights spent curled into himself because no one had been coming to save him.

Sungil clicks his tongue, feigning disappointment. “I was so patient,” he muses, tilting his head. “So very patient, waiting for the right moment. Watching you play house with those filthy wolves.” His voice twists, thick with disgust. “You don’t belong here, little one. You never did.”

Jungkook whimpers.

Sungil leans in, breath hot and rancid against his ear. “Come quietly, or I’ll have to hurt them.” A pause. “Again.”

Jungkook stops breathing.

His pulse pounds so violently that it drowns out everything else—the slow, cruel beat of Sungil’s voice, the cold press of the night, even the burning pain in his scalp. His hands tremble. His stomach drops.

Again.

Jungkook freezes. His breathing stutters. The memories flood back—the wolves he’d protected, their blood staining the snow, the pain of Sungil’s grip on him that night, dragging him back—

He shakes his head violently, his whole body trembling.

Sungil clicks his tongue in mock disappointment. “Oh? You care about them that much? Enough to disobey me?”

His mind fractures, reality twisting violently. Suddenly, the infirmary is gone.

The air is heavier, thick with the scent of blood and damp earth. The walls of Sungil’s house rise around him, suffocating. The cold floor bites into his skin. His wrists burn from the bruising grip pinning him down. His breath is ragged, sharp, painful.

He knows this place.

No, no, no—

No one is coming.

No one is—

Jungkook gasps as the weight on his chest crushes down harder, pressing him deeper into the cold, unforgiving floor. His lungs burn. His vision swims. He claws at the hands gripping him, but it’s useless—Sungil is stronger, always stronger, always looming over him like a shadow he can never outrun.

“You’re shaking,” Sungil murmurs, and there is amusement in his voice, cruel and cold. “So fragile. So weak.” His fingers tighten around Jungkook’s wrists, nails digging in, twisting his arms at an unnatural angle. “You always were, weren’t you?”

Jungkook tries to shake his head, tries to force words past his dry, trembling lips, but all that comes out is a choked, desperate whimper.

“Pathetic,” Sungil sneers. “And yet, those filthy wolves actually think you’re worth something. Do they coddle you, Jungkook-ah? Hold you when you cry? Tell you you’re safe?” His voice drops lower, mocking. “Do they kiss your bruises and pretend you’re not broken?”

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to hear this. He doesn’t want to be here.

But Sungil won’t stop. He never stops.

“Because that’s all you are,” he continues, voice growing sharper, crueler. “A burden. An outsider. A human pretending to be part of their world. Do you really think they’ll keep you forever? That they won’t grow tired of dragging your weak little body around?”

Jungkook flinches as the words strike deeper than any wound ever could.

“Oh, you do.” Sungil hums, as if pleased, his grip tightening. “You actually believe they care about you. That’s adorable.” He leans in, his breath rancid against Jungkook’s ear. “Tell me, what do you think will happen when they finally realize how pathetic you are? Do you think they’ll fight for you? Die for you?” A pause. Then, softer, deadlier, “Do you think they’ll even miss you?”

Jungkook’s body locks up.

The words sink deep, poisoning his mind, wrapping around his ribs like iron chains.

Because—because what if—

“Poor thing.” Sungil’s tone is almost gentle now, his fingers brushing against Jungkook’s throat before gripping tight. Jungkook gasps, a strangled sound, nails clawing at the unrelenting hold. “But don’t worry. I’ll make this easy for you.”

He presses down.

Jungkook chokes. His lungs seize, his throat constricting as his body instinctively fights for air. His vision darkens at the edges.

Sungil watches, drinking in his suffering like it’s something sweet.

“This is what happens when you forget your place, Jungkook-ah,” he murmurs, thumb pressing harder against his windpipe. “When you try to run from me.”

Jungkook’s body trembles violently. His chest burns. His mind screams, but no sound escapes him.

This is it.

This is how it ends.

Alone.

Useless.

Unwanted.

His body starts to go limp.

--

Jungkook wakes up with a choked gasp.

His body jerks upright before he even registers being awake. His heart is slamming against his ribs, his breath coming in quick, desperate pants. His throat is raw as if he’s been screaming. He clutches at his chest, nails digging into his own skin, trying to anchor himself back to reality.

It’s dark. The infirmary is empty.

He’s alone.

His breath hitches, a sob forcing its way up before he can stop it. Tears spill over his cheeks as he curls in on himself, pressing his shaking hands to his face. His entire body feels cold, like the nightmare’s grip hasn’t fully let go. His wrists still ache, phantom pain from Sungil’s grasp lingering like bruises beneath his skin.

He rocks slightly, trying to steady his breathing, trying to remind himself—

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

But his body doesn’t believe it. His muscles are still tense, every nerve on edge, waiting for the next strike, the next whisper in his ear, the next breath against his skin. A shudder wracks through him. He bites down hard on his lip, trying to silence the sobs threatening to spill over.

He doesn’t want to wake anyone up.

Not because of him.

Not because of a nightmare.

He knows he’s panicking. He knows it, but he can’t stop.

The infirmary walls feel too close, pressing in on him like a vice. The shadows are wrong, stretching and curling like unseen hands reaching for him. His breath is sharp and uneven, coming in quick, panicked gasps that he can’t control. His body is trembling—no, shaking—not just from the fear clawing at his chest, but from the way his sobs wrack through him, making it impossible to breathe. His fingers clutch at the thin blanket around him, knuckles white, but it’s not enough. It’s not real enough. He still feels Sungil’s grip, still hears his voice in his ear, still feels trapped.

He can’t tell what’s real.

His breath hitches. A whimper escapes his throat, high and broken, and suddenly he can’t stay here.

He can’t stay alone.

Before he even registers what he’s doing, he’s on his feet. His movements are clumsy, erratic—he stumbles, almost falling, but he catches himself against the edge of the bed before he can hit the floor. His body is too heavy, too shaky, like he’s barely connected to it. His heart is hammering in his chest, each beat a frantic pulse of fear urging him forward.

He needs his hyungs.

He doesn’t know where they are, but he needs them. His hyungs. He needs to hear their voices, to feel their touch, to know that he’s safe. That he’s not still there. That Sungil isn’t coming for him.

His feet carry him forward before he even thinks to grab shoes, a coat, anything. The infirmary door swings open with a creak that echoes far too loudly in the stillness of the night. The cold air rushes in instantly, a sharp, biting shock against his burning skin, but Jungkook barely registers it. His body moves on instinct, his legs pushing him forward, bare feet meeting the icy ground with a jarring sting that barely even registers through the fog of his panic.

The village is dark.

Only a few lanterns remain lit, their soft golden glow flickering in the distance, barely enough to illuminate his way. The snow is thick, each step sinking into the frozen ground, ice biting into the sensitive flesh of his feet. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t stop. He barely even notices the way his toes curl against the cold, the way his skin already feels numb.

He just runs.

His breath comes in harsh gasps, forming small clouds in the night air. His chest is tight, constricted, like something is still gripping him, squeezing the air from his lungs. His heart won’t slow down, the remnants of his nightmare still clinging to him like a second skin. Every shadow, every shifting shape in the darkness sends a fresh wave of terror down his spine. The village, usually a place of safety, now feels unfamiliar.

He doesn’t know where he’s going.

He just knows he has to find them.

His hyungs. 

His vision is blurry—whether from the tears still spilling down his cheeks or the cold pricking at his eyes, he doesn’t know. His body is screaming at him, exhaustion and panic crashing together in a violent storm, but he pushes forward.

The village seems endless. Every step feels like he’s getting further away instead of closer.

He’s alone.

He’s alone.

A sob rips from his throat, raw and desperate. His hands clench at his sides, nails digging into his palms so hard it hurts. The wind howls around him, whispering cruel things in his ears, reminding him of Sungil’s voice, Sungil’s touch, Sungil’s threats—

No. No, no, no—

A sharp sob bursts from him as his foot catches on something—he doesn’t even see what it is—but suddenly he’s falling, the ground rushing up to meet him.

Pain explodes through his knees, his hands scraping against the frozen earth as he lands hard.

The cold is unbearable now. It sinks into his bones, crawls under his skin, eats away at what little warmth remains in him. He blinks rapidly, struggling to see through the blur of tears, but the world is spinning, tipping sideways as he gasps for air.

He needs them.

His throat tightens. His entire body is trembling violently now, wracked with hiccuping sobs that shake him to his core. His hands press into the snow, but they feel like they aren’t his. He can’t feel his fingers. He can’t feel anything except the overwhelming terror swallowing him whole.

He chokes on a cry, curling in on himself, shoulders shaking. The wind howls louder, but it sounds like laughter, like whispers of a past he can’t escape.

He needs them.

But he’s alone.

And he’s so, so scared.

Notes:

Heyyy!! 💖💫

Sooo… more angst. Oops? 😅 I just can’t help myself, it's too good! The suffering… I live for it. 😌🔥

Also, can we talk about Jungkook for a second?? Like, this boy is so hopelessly oblivious. 🤦🏻‍♂️ He’s got six ridiculously attractive men lowkey (or not-so-lowkey) getting jealous over him, and he’s just out here like, “Huh? They’re just nice to me.” Baby. Please. 😭💀

What are we gonna do with him?? 😩😂

Hope you all have the best week ever!! 💕✨ Take care and stay healthy~ 😘🌸

Chapter 25: Through the Darkness

Summary:

Jungkook needs to find his Hyungs

Jungkook doesn't know how he finds the strength to move.

His body feels like it's shutting down, the cold pressing against him like a second skin, sinking into his bones, numbing everything but the sheer terror gripping his chest. His breath is ragged, coming in sharp, broken sobs, his heartbeat erratic and painful in his ribs. Every nerve in his body screams at him to stay down, to give up, to collapse into the snow and let the dark swallow him whole. But he can’t.

He has to find them.

He bites down on his lower lip so hard he tastes blood, forces himself to push up onto trembling legs. His knees wobble, aching from the fall, and his vision swims. He can’t feel his fingers anymore, his hands shaking violently as he wraps his arms around himself, desperate for any warmth.

The house.

He’s been there before.

His mind clings to that thought like a lifeline, grasping onto the memory of warmth, of safety. The path is a blur in his mind, muddled by panic and exhaustion, but he remembers them. He remembers Namjoon ruffling his hair, Yoongi fixing his coat, Hoseok whispering soft reassurances. He remembers the way Seokjin fussed over him, the way Jimin and Taehyung held his hands like he was someone worth holding onto.

He can’t lose that.

His legs move before he realizes it, stumbling forward, his breath hitching as he pushes himself into a run. Each step is agony, his bare feet stinging against the frozen ground, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. The night is too dark, too quiet, and his mind won’t stop whispering Hyung, Hyung, Hyung—

He doesn’t even know which one he’s calling for.

He just knows that he needs them.

The village blurs past him, unfamiliar shadows looming in the corners of his vision, but he forces himself to focus. The house. He knows the way. His feet carry him forward on instinct, turning down paths he barely registers, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

By the time he sees it—sees the dark shape of their home against the night—his chest feels like it’s caving in.

Relief surges through him so violently that it makes him cry harder. His sobs break free, unrestrained and raw, but he doesn’t stop running until he reaches the steps. His legs nearly buckle as he stumbles up them, his frozen fingers barely strong enough to curl into a fist.

He knocks.

His touch is too light at first—his strength is nearly gone—but he forces himself to do it again, harder this time, his fists slamming against the door in frantic, uneven beats.

Please.

He knocks again, his breath hitching.

Please, please—

Nothing.

The house is silent.

Jungkook’s heart squeezes painfully, panic slamming into his chest like a tidal wave. His sobs come quicker, his hands shaking so badly that they slip against the wood as he knocks again, this time weaker. His whole body is shaking, a violent, uncontrollable shudder that makes it impossible to think past the fear.

His legs give out.

He collapses onto the porch, his fingers clutching at the fabric of his thin clothes, his breath stuttering. His body is spent—too cold, too exhausted, too weak. The last of his strength is draining out of him, leaving behind nothing but the overwhelming sense of helplessness clawing at his throat.

He’s cold.

So, so cold.

The wind howls around him, sneaking through the gaps in his clothes, wrapping around him like icy fingers. His skin burns where it meets the snow, his toes so numb they hardly feel real anymore. He gasps for air, his sobs breaking into weak, pitiful sounds, his shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping himself upright.

He can’t go back to the infirmary alone.

He won’t make it.

The thought sends another wave of panic through him, a fresh sob bursting from his throat as he curls in on himself, his hands gripping his arms so tightly that his nails dig into his skin. His breaths come in rapid, uneven bursts, his mind spinning in a dizzying loop of they’re not here, they’re not here, I’m alone, I’m alone—

Then—

A sound.

A creak from inside the house.

Jungkook’s breath catches, his entire body going still, fear momentarily eclipsed by something else. Hope. Desperation. His heart pounds in his chest as he strains to hear, his entire world narrowing down to the faint shuffle of movement behind the door.

And then, suddenly—

It swings open.

The door swings open, and the world tilts.

Jungkook barely processes the sight in front of him—the dim glow of candlelight spilling out from the house, the familiar wooden walls, the lingering warmth seeping into the cold night air. All he sees is Namjoon.

The alpha is standing in the doorway, his hair mussed from sleep, his eyes still heavy with exhaustion. He’s wrapped in a thick sweater, one sleeve slightly pushed up, and his face carries the softness of someone who’s just been pulled from deep slumber. He blinks once, twice—his gaze unfocused for a fraction of a second before he takes in the figure kneeling before him.

And then—

“Jungkook?”

Namjoon’s voice shatters the silence, rough with sleep but rising with panic, the way a fire catches and spreads in an instant. His entire body stiffens as his eyes widen, his drowsiness evaporating in the space of a heartbeat. His breath catches, his chest rising sharply as if the very sight of Jungkook steals the air from his lungs.

Because Jungkook—

Jungkook is falling apart.

He knows it the moment he sees Namjoon’s face—sleep-ruffled, bleary-eyed, soft with the remnants of slumber. But then the alpha’s gaze sharpens, locks onto his trembling form, and in an instant, everything about him changes.

Namjoon stiffens. His breath catches, his chest rises sharply like he’s been struck, and then—

"Jungkook?"

His voice is rough, thick with sleep, but there’s something else beneath it, something sharp and frantic. Jungkook barely processes the way Namjoon moves, how he’s suddenly in front of him, kneeling down, reaching out—

Warm hands touch his arms first, pressing, feeling, checking. They slide up to his shoulders, steady and strong. Then to his face, cradling his cold cheeks, his thumbs skimming over damp skin, wiping away the tears that won’t stop falling.

“Jungkook—what—” Namjoon’s voice stumbles, his panic bleeding through. “What are you doing? Why are you out here? You’re freezing—”

Jungkook doesn’t answer. He can’t answer.

His chest is too tight, his breath comes in sharp, hiccuping gasps, his entire body wracked with violent tremors. The moment Namjoon’s warmth touches him, something in him snaps.

His hands shoot out before he can stop them, fingers twisting into Namjoon’s sweater, clutching, grabbing, holding. He doesn’t think, doesn’t hesitate, just buries himself against the alpha’s chest with a desperate sob.

And Namjoon—

Namjoon catches him.

The warmth envelops him immediately, arms wrapping around his shaking frame, pulling him in, pulling him close. One large hand cradles the back of his head, fingers threading into his hair, while the other presses against the curve of his spine, firm and grounding.

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you,” Namjoon murmurs, his voice low and urgent, thick with something raw. “It’s okay, you’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Jungkook can’t stop shaking.

The cold is in his bones, in his lungs, in his very soul, but Namjoon is warm. So warm. His scent is everywhere, rich and familiar. Jungkook breathes it in, tries to press himself deeper into it, into him.

But the fear is still there, curling inside his chest, refusing to loosen its grip.

“Breathe, pup,” Namjoon whispers, his voice softer now, coaxing. “You’re okay. You’re okay. Just breathe.”

Jungkook tries. He really does. But every breath feels like it’s catching on something sharp, something jagged, and the sobs keep coming, his body shaking uncontrollably. His fingers dig into Namjoon’s sweater, don’t let go, don’t let go, don’t let go.

And Namjoon doesn’t.

Instead, he curses under his breath, a rough, desperate sound. “Fuck. You’re freezing, pup. You’re fucking freezing—why are you barefoot? Why didn’t you—”

He stops himself. Takes a breath. And then, his arms tighten.

Jungkook barely has time to react before Namjoon shifts, moving quickly. There’s a brief moment of weightlessness, and then suddenly he’s lifted, cradled against the alpha’s chest like he weighs nothing.

A whimper escapes him at the sudden movement, his body flinching involuntarily, fingers tightening in panic. But Namjoon hushes him immediately, pressing his lips to the top of Jungkook’s head.

“You’re okay,” Namjoon murmurs, his voice steadier now, firmer. “I’ve got you. Let’s get you inside.”

Jungkook doesn’t have the strength to respond.

He just lets himself be held.

The moment they step inside, warmth wraps around Jungkook like a second skin, but it does nothing to stop his trembling. His body is still wracked with shudders, his sobs still coming in sharp, uneven gasps. He’s barely aware of Namjoon’s steady arms still holding him close, of the way the alpha’s scent is everywhere, grounding yet overwhelmed with something tense and sharp.

Then—

“Jungkook.”

It’s Yoongi’s voice this time, rough and strained, and suddenly he’s there.

Jungkook barely registers the blur of movement before hands—warm, familiar hands—are on him.

They touch his face first, cupping his cheeks, thumbs swiping at the tears that refuse to stop falling. Then his hair, fingers threading through damp strands, smoothing them back like that alone could calm him. They press against his arms, his shoulders, his wrists, checking, searching, before sliding back up to cradle his face again.

Jungkook barely has the strength to lift his head.

He sees Yoongi’s face then, eyes wide, sharp with worry, his mouth pressed into something tight and grim. His hands tremble where they hold him, but his voice—when he speaks again—is soft, careful.

“Jungkook,” he breathes, like the name itself is something delicate. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Jungkook tries. He really does. But no words come out.

Only another sob.

The panic is still there, tight in his chest, pressing against his ribs like it wants to break him apart. His breath hitches, his fingers weakly grasp at the fabric of Namjoon’s sweater, and all he can do is shake his head, barely a movement at all.

Yoongi curses under his breath, a sharp, barely-contained sound, and he moves again—touching, checking, grounding.

“He’s freezing,” he mutters, hands running down Jungkook’s arms again. He grabs one of Jungkook’s hands, scowling at the way it trembles in his hold. “His hands are like ice. What the fuck was he doing outside?”

Namjoon’s hold tightens slightly, as if the reminder of Jungkook’s state makes his grip instinctively more protective. The alpha shifts him slightly in his arms, pressing him closer.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon admits, voice heavy with frustration and worry. “I woke up to knocking—” His voice falters, and Jungkook feels the sharp inhale against his own body before Namjoon continues. “When I opened the door, he was on his knees. Crying. In the fucking snow, Yoongi.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath. His grip on Jungkook’s wrist tightens slightly, like he’s trying to ground himself.

“What the fuck,” he mutters, voice unsteady. “What happened? Why was he out there alone?”

Namjoon shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he says again, frustration creeping into his voice. “He won’t stop crying. He hasn’t said a word—”

Jungkook flinches slightly at that, his body curling inward on itself, the weight of everything pressing down on him again.

Both alphas immediately react.

Yoongi’s hands tighten, one slipping to the back of Jungkook’s neck, thumb rubbing slow, grounding circles into his skin. Namjoon’s arms hold him more securely, chest rumbling with a quiet, reassuring sound.

“You’re okay, baby,” Yoongi murmurs. “We’ve got you.”

Jungkook clenches his fingers weakly in Namjoon’s sweater, his breath hitching as another sob escapes him.

He doesn’t understand why the fear is still gripping him so tightly. Why he can’t seem to stop shaking, why he can’t breathe properly. But being here, with them, in their warmth, in their hold, is the only thing keeping him from unraveling completely.

Somewhere in the haze of his panic, he hears Yoongi speak again, his voice lower this time, rough with emotion.

“We need to warm him up.”

Namjoon nods against him, already moving deeper into the house. “Let’s get him by the fire.”

Jungkook barely has time to register the shift in movement before he’s being carried again, Namjoon’s hold steady, Yoongi’s hands never leaving his skin.

He closes his eyes against the warmth of them both.

And lets himself be taken care of.

Jungkook barely registers how they move him, how they lead him further inside the house, away from the cold and into warmth. His limbs feel heavy, his chest too tight, his head light and dizzy from the relentless waves of panic. He doesn't fight it when Namjoon lowers them both to the floor, doesn't react when Yoongi is suddenly there too, arranging pillows and blankets near the fireplace before helping Jungkook into Namjoon's lap.

The moment he's settled, arms wrap around him again, secure and grounding.

Jungkook feels small in Namjoon’s hold, his body curled against the alpha's chest, legs tucked close as if making himself smaller will make this terrible feeling go away. But it doesn't—it stays, clings to him, pressing against his ribs, crushing the air from his lungs. He gasps, trying to pull in a proper breath, but his throat is too tight. His hands fist into Namjoon’s sweater again, needing to hold onto something, anything, to keep himself from completely losing control.

And then Yoongi speaks, voice low but firm.

“You’re having a panic attack, baby.”

A panic attack?

Jungkook doesn’t—what?—he doesn’t know what that means. He doesn’t know that word. He doesn’t understand why his own body won’t listen to him, why his chest keeps squeezing tighter and tighter, why he still feels so scared.

Namjoon makes a quiet, pained sound at Yoongi’s words and curls around Jungkook protectively, his arms pressing him closer, as if he could shield him from whatever invisible force is making him like this. The warmth of both alphas should be comforting, but the panic is still there, eating him alive from the inside out.

Then Yoongi shifts, one hand stroking over Jungkook’s hair, smoothing it down. “Jungkook,” he says softly. “Look at me, baby.”

It takes effort. More effort than it should.

Jungkook can barely focus, his vision blurred with tears, his breathing too unsteady, but he forces himself to do it. He forces himself to lift his head, to meet Yoongi’s eyes, dark with concern, filled with something tender and steady, something safe.

The moment their gazes lock, Yoongi hums in approval, his thumb brushing against Jungkook’s cheek.

“There you go,” he murmurs, so gentle it nearly makes Jungkook break all over again. “You’re doing so good.”

Jungkook doesn’t feel like he’s doing good. He feels like he’s falling apart.

His breath stutters again, a fresh wave of panic rolling through him, but before he can spiral further, Yoongi takes one of his hands—still trembling, still ice-cold—and presses it firmly to his own chest.

“Feel that?” Yoongi asks, voice unwavering.

Jungkook’s fingers twitch against the warmth of the alpha’s skin. Yoongi’s heartbeat is strong beneath his palm, steady and unchanging, a stark contrast to the erratic rhythm of Jungkook’s own.

“I want you to focus on it, okay?” Yoongi continues, rubbing small circles into the back of Jungkook’s hand. “Just feel my heartbeat. Match your breathing to mine.”

Jungkook tries.

He tries so hard.

But his chest is still too tight, his lungs still refuse to work properly, and frustration mixes with the fear because he wants to do what Yoongi is asking—he really does—but it feels impossible. Yoongi must see the distress on his face because he softens even further, leaning in just slightly.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “Don’t force it, baby. Just listen to my voice. I’ll help you.”

He exaggerates his breathing then, taking in slow, deep inhales through his nose, exhaling just as slow through his mouth.

Jungkook watches.

Listens.

He presses his hand more firmly against Yoongi’s chest, feels the rise and fall of each breath, the rhythmic thump of his heart.

“Breathe with me,” Yoongi coaxes.

Jungkook clenches his jaw, still trembling, but tries again.

He follows Yoongi’s pace, copying the slow inhales, the steady exhales. At first, it feels wrong, like his body is rejecting the rhythm, refusing to listen. But Yoongi’s voice keeps guiding him through it, soft reassurances woven into every breath, and Namjoon’s presence is just as grounding, his large hands rubbing soothingly over Jungkook’s back.

Seconds stretch into minutes.

And then—

Jungkook exhales, and for the first time since waking up in terror, it feels just a little easier. He takes another breath, deeper this time, and releases it slowly. The pressure in his chest doesn’t disappear entirely, but it eases, just enough to keep him from drowning in it.

Yoongi’s lips curve into something small but proud.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises. “Just like that.”

Namjoon makes another sound then—soft, relieved—and presses his forehead against Jungkook’s temple, his arms tightening briefly before loosening again, enough to allow him to breathe properly.

Jungkook swallows past the lump in his throat, his body still trembling but no longer with the force of an impending breakdown. He keeps his palm against Yoongi’s chest, lets himself match his breathing to the alpha’s, lets himself be held.

Safe.

Protected.

The fear is still there, lingering at the edges of his mind, but for now, it’s not all he can feel.

Jungkook’s body trembles uncontrollably, not just from the cold now, but from the intensity of everything he’s feeling. He’s still shaking, his muscles stiff, like they’re not fully able to comprehend that he’s safe. It’s not just the nightmare that’s haunting him—it’s the aftermath, the aftermath of feeling so utterly powerless. His teeth chatter lightly, his hands still trembling in Namjoon’s lap as his sobs slowly subside, but his body still can’t relax.

Namjoon watches him closely, his gaze soft but filled with concern. He’s already holding him close, his arms wrapped tightly around him. Without a second thought, the alpha pulls his sweater off, the fabric moving effortlessly in his hands, and drapes it over Jungkook’s shivering shoulders.

“Jungkook-ah…” Namjoon’s voice is low, gentle, as his hands carefully settle the sweater around Jungkook’s frame. “You’re shaking too much,” he murmurs, the warmth of his hands lingering on Jungkook’s cold skin before pulling away. The moment the sweater touches him, it’s as though the warmth inside it rushes through him, a lifeline against the chill still deep inside him, even if it’s not from the cold. Namjoon’s scent clings to the sweater, surrounding Jungkook, a safe and comforting cocoon.

Jungkook doesn’t have the energy to thank him. His tears have slowed, but the remnants of his panic still cling to him. He doesn’t even have the strength to shift the sweater properly, but the way Namjoon is touching him, gentle yet persistent, reassures him, calms him, piece by piece.

Yoongi, not missing a beat, reaches for the thick, warm blanket he’d set aside earlier, a soft rustling of fabric before he folds it over Jungkook’s small frame, ensuring every inch of him is covered. The blanket smells like Yoongi, and it’s as if that scent alone is enough to ease Jungkook’s remaining tremors. It’s the kind of warmth that sinks into his bones, soothing the panic still gripping his chest.

Yoongi doesn’t pull away as he settles the blanket, his hands lingering for a moment on Jungkook’s arms, rubbing the fabric softly, as if trying to comfort him without words. He looks down at the younger’s face, eyes filled with concern, and speaks quietly, almost to himself, “It’s okay, baby… We’ve got you. We’re here.”

Namjoon leans in close again, brushing his hand through Jungkook’s hair, his voice a gentle murmur in the quiet of the room. “You’re safe now. No one’s going to hurt you. We won’t let that happen.”

Jungkook, still curled up in Namjoon’s lap, buried in the warmth of their embrace, nods slowly, his chest still tight, but the weight of their protection, their unwavering care, makes him feel lighter. The blanket is a barrier against the fear, and the sweater, with its lingering warmth, reminds him that he isn’t alone.

The combination of their touch, their words, and the comfort of the warmth around him is starting to pull him out of the spiral he’s been trapped in. He can breathe again. He can feel his body relaxing, inch by inch, as the overwhelming fear that had taken hold of him starts to recede, replaced by a gentle, comforting warmth he’s never known.

Yoongi watches him, his eyes flicking between Namjoon and him, but his expression softens. “Good boy,” he whispers, a note of pride in his voice, though tinged with concern. “You’re doing good. Just breathe.”

Jungkook can feel his body finally surrendering to their care. The weight on his chest, the racing thoughts, begin to fade slowly, as his breathing becomes deeper, steadier. The scent of the sweater and the blanket, of Namjoon and Yoongi, fills him, surrounding him in a safety he’s never known, never thought he’d have.

He closes his eyes, his body still nestled against both of them, still tightly wrapped in their warmth, feeling the slow beat of both alphas’ steady presence. 

Namjoon runs his hand through his hair, his other arm lightly draped over his shoulders, pulling him closer. Yoongi stays right beside him, practically glued to his side, rubbing his hands over his arms, feeling the coldness that still lingers beneath his skin.

They don’t speak at first, giving Jungkook time to process, letting the warmth of their touch and the cozy comfort of the blankets help him feel safe.

But after a few long minutes, Yoongi speaks in a voice softer than ever, still tinted with worry. “What happened, baby?” His tone is gentle, coaxing, like he’s talking to a frightened animal.

Jungkook shudders at the question, his chest tight again, like it’s going to collapse under the weight of his words. He opens his mouth to respond, but his throat constricts, leaving him unable to make the sound. Namjoon notices immediately, his grip tightening, pulling Jungkook closer. The closeness helps, and with a deep breath, Jungkook manages to force the words out.

“I… I had a nightmare.” His voice shakes, barely more than a whisper, but his alphas are listening intently, hanging on every word.

His heart races again, not from panic this time but from the memories of what felt so real in the dream. He doesn’t know how to say it. He doesn't want to say it, but they’re waiting, they’re patient.

He takes another deep breath.

“It was Sungil.” His voice cracks as he says the name, the image of the man flashing in his mind like a lingering shadow, cruel and unyielding. “He found me... and he...” Jungkook swallows thickly, his words becoming more difficult. His hands shake in Namjoon’s lap, and he instinctively reaches for the alpha again, clutching onto him as if the memory could physically hurt him.

“He... grabbed me,” Jungkook continues, and the tears well up again, a fresh wave of them pouring down his cheeks. “He—he put his hand over my mouth, so I couldn’t scream. He told me... that he was going to hurt you all. That he was going to make me come back to the village. That I couldn’t be here anymore…” Jungkook’s voice falters, unable to go on for a moment. The memory is so vivid, so cruel. The fear... the helplessness...

Namjoon’s fingers pause in his hair, and the movement goes still, the weight of Jungkook’s words settling in. 

“Then he said…” Jungkook’s breath hitches, his body trembling again from the mere recollection of it. “He said I would have to live with him. That I would have to stay with him, and that... that I wouldn’t be allowed to leave.”

Yoongi’s expression hardens immediately, his gaze becoming more intense. Namjoon’s arms tighten around him, as if trying to shield him physically from the memory itself. Jungkook can feel the anger radiating from both of them—quiet, contained but unmistakably sharp.

“Jungkook…” Yoongi whispers, his voice low but fierce, an edge of something dangerous in it. “No one’s ever going to take you from us.”

Jungkook sniffles, still clutching Namjoon’s arm like it’s his lifeline. He doesn’t know how to explain the way the nightmare made him feel, the way his entire body had been paralyzed by fear, helplessness... as if he were trapped in that moment with no way out.

Namjoon, after a few tense moments, finally speaks, his voice dangerously calm, yet something darker lurks behind the words. “No one will take you away from us, Jungkook. No one will hurt you again. Not while we’re here.”

Jungkook can feel the heat of their anger, though it’s controlled, held back for now. He wants to be strong, to tell them that he’s okay, but in truth, it feels like a knot inside him—fear and vulnerability mixed together in a way that makes him feel both fragile and safe at the same time.

Yoongi’s hand, gentle but firm, strokes down his back as if to comfort him. “You’re safe now. We won’t let anyone hurt you again, I promise.”

The words sink in slowly, like a balm on an open wound. Jungkook doesn’t understand it completely, doesn’t know how they’ll be able to stop someone like Sungil from finding him again, but he believes them. He believes in the strength they offer, in the way they hold him, their voices both firm and soothing.

He nods slowly, breathing in deeply, feeling the weight of their promises wrap around him like a protective shield. He’s not alone. He’s not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever again.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

Namjoon's question echos in his mind, but it’s hard for him to think straight. His body feels so detached, like it doesn’t even belong to him anymore. He’s still trembling in his lap, his mind struggling to keep up with the reality of what’s happening around him. He can't feel his body properly, not really. Everything is blurred by the fog of fear and panic.

It takes him a long moment to answer, his voice small, shaky, but honest. “I... I fell. My knees... they hurt...”

The words feel like they’re coming from someone else, like they’re detached from the pain still throbbing in his body. But he doesn’t feel anything except a faint, dull ache in his knees, a reminder of the cold night, the snow, and the desperation that led him here.

Yoongi’s expression hardens. He stands quickly, the movement so abrupt that it makes Jungkook’s breath catch in his chest. He watches the alpha turn to leave the room, his footsteps heavy and purposeful. Why is Yoongi leaving me?

The thought strikes him like a bolt of panic, and the fear inside him spikes once again. His breath comes in shallow, quick gasps. He doesn’t know why, but his chest tightens as if he can’t bear to be left alone. He wants to cry out, to stop Yoongi from going anywhere, but before he can make a sound, Namjoon’s hand is on his shoulder, warm and grounding.

“Shh, Kook-ah,” Namjoon murmurs gently, his voice a soft balm to his frantic thoughts. “It’s okay. Yoongi’s just getting something for your knees, alright? He’ll be back in a moment.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. He just nods shakily, his eyes still wide with distress, trying to trust Namjoon’s words even though everything in him is screaming that he needs Yoongi back right now. But Namjoon’s presence is steadying. He kisses his temple, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary, and it’s enough to settle his nerves, if only a little.

The seconds drag on until, what feels like mere moments later, the door swings open again. Yoongi steps inside, quickly and efficiently, his eyes searching over Jungkook with a kind of intense focus that makes him feel both cared for and vulnerable at the same time. Without a word, Yoongi kneels down in front of Jungkook, gently pulling his knees into his lap as he starts to inspect them.

Jungkook doesn’t resist. His knees hurt a little when the alpha touches them, but he can’t bring himself to move away. He just watches Yoongi’s concentrated expression, silently hoping that the pain will stop soon. He feels Namjoon’s hand resting on his shoulder, grounding him further.

Yoongi’s fingers brush gently over the skin of Jungkook’s knees, and he sucks in a sharp breath as he feels the sting of the small cuts that have already begun to bleed, faint red streaks staining his skin. The blood is a dark contrast against the pale skin of his legs, and both alphas notice it at the same time. Jungkook can hear the displeasure in their breaths as they take in the sight.

Jungkook tries to pull back instinctively when the alcohol wipe touches his skin. It stings terribly, and his body flinches at the sharp pain, but Yoongi’s hands are holding him in place, gentle but firm. “I know it hurts,” he murmurs softly, his voice soothing as he applies pressure to the wound. “I’m sorry. Just a little longer.”

Jungkook whimpers at the sting, but the sound is muffled as Namjoon leans down, cupping his face gently in his hands, coaxing him to focus. “Look at me, pup,” he says, his voice steady and warm. “Focus on my me, alright? You’re doing great.”

Jungkook does as he’s told, his eyes meeting Namjoon’s. His breath is shaky, his body still trembling, but with the alpha's guidance, the panic from earlier begins to dissipate. He can hear Yoongi working quietly, the soft rustling of fabric and the muted sound of supplies being gathered, but it’s Namjoon’s calming presence that keeps him grounded in the moment. The warmth from the blanket, his scent, the steadiness of his breath—it all makes the ache in his chest, the overwhelming fear, slowly recede.

Yoongi finishes cleaning the cuts and starts bandaging his knees carefully, the motions gentle but precise. He’s still frowning, his brow furrowed as he works, clearly displeased by the sight of Jungkook in pain, even if it’s just a small injury. Jungkook’s skin feels warm under the bandages, though, a sense of security settling in as Namjoon finishes his task.

“There,” Yoongi murmurs, brushing his hands softly over Jungkook’s knees once more, making sure the bandages are secure. “All done baby.”

Jungkook doesn’t have the strength to say much, but the tears have slowed to a gentle trickle, his body no longer trembling with the same intensity. He’s still cold, but the warmth from both alphas, and the care they’ve given him, begins to melt the ice inside his chest. He leans into Namjoon’s chest again, letting the alpha’s steady heartbeat soothe his racing thoughts.

“Thank you,” Jungkook whispers softly, the words barely audible, but they carry the weight of everything he’s feeling—gratitude, relief, and a deep, overwhelming sense of safety that he hasn’t known in a long time. The alphas don’t reply right away, but their hands both rest gently on his back, the unspoken promise in their touch that they’ll never let him go, that he's safe with them.

Jungkook’s eyelids feel like lead, heavy and unyielding, and no matter how hard he tries, the exhaustion pulls at him relentlessly. His body is trembling less now, the lingering fear and panic ebbing away as the warmth of the alphas’ presence wraps around him like a protective cocoon. But the sleepiness weighs on him, threatening to pull him into a deep, undisturbed slumber.

He doesn’t even open his eyes when he speaks, his voice low and tired, barely a whisper. “Thank you,” he murmurs again, the words coming out slow and thick, like they're being dragged from the depths of his exhaustion. “Thank you for... taking care of me... I’m fine now... I’m sorry for waking you... I should probably go back to my room.”

The words are slurred with drowsiness, and his head lolls slightly to the side as he tries to push himself up, just a little, trying to gather the strength to leave. The movement, weak as it is, causes a wave of dizziness to hit him, and he falters, almost toppling over. But Namjoon's arm are there, a firm but gentle hold around his waist, and he pulls him back into his chest with ease.

"No," Namjoon’s voice is firm, yet soothing, and there’s no mistaking the resolve in it. "You’re not going anywhere, pup."

Before Jungkook can protest, Yoongi speaks up, his deep voice low but equally determined. "There’s no way we're letting you go back to the infirmary tonight. Not like this."

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat, his tired mind struggling to comprehend what they’re saying. It’s not like he doesn’t want to stay, not after everything, but the exhaustion is weighing so heavily on him that he can’t even muster the energy to argue. And the idea of being alone again, even for a moment, terrifies him. His body sinks further into Namjoon’s embrace as his arms tighten protectively around him, holding him close.

“You’ll sleep here tonight,” Yoongi continues, his voice unwavering, his fingers brushing through Jungkook’s hair in a slow, comforting motion. “It’s not negotiable, Jungkook. You’re staying here where we can take care of you.”

Jungkook hums softly in response, the sound barely audible as his body sinks further into the warmth of the alphas. He doesn’t have the strength to fight, not now. His eyelids flutter shut, and he leans into Namjoon’s chest. The scent from Yoongi’s blanket wraps around him, making everything feel safe, warm, and secure.

He clings to Namjoon’s arm without thinking, his grip weak, but desperate for the comfort he can’t seem to find anywhere else. His body relaxes further as he breathes in deeply, feeling the tension from earlier slip away, and the weight of his exhaustion pulls him under once again. He doesn’t fight it anymore. He doesn't need to. Not with Yoongi and Namjoon there, holding him, surrounding him with their warmth.

Namjoon’s movements are gentle, almost slow, as he carefully takes Jungkook upstairs. Jungkook’s eyes are half-lidded from exhaustion, barely able to keep them open, and Namjoon keeps his touch light but firm. The night is still cold, but with the alpha's warmth next to him, Jungkook doesn’t feel it. All he feels is the overwhelming need to rest, to find comfort in the presence of the two alphas who have been his anchor through the storm of his panic.

When they reach the room, Namjoon helps Jungkook onto the bed, the soft blankets welcoming him into a cocoon of warmth. Jungkook’s body sighs with relief as he sinks into the softness of the mattress, his body aching with exhaustion from the night’s chaos. He doesn’t have the strength to fight the sleep pulling him under. His head feels too heavy to lift, his limbs like lead, and his mind is clouded with a haze of relief and exhaustion.

Namjoon and Yoongi stand at the edge of the bed, watching him for a moment, their gazes filled with concern. They both reach down at the same time, running their hands through his hair in soothing motions. Namjoon’s fingers are firm, but gentle, massaging his scalp with soft strokes, while Yoongi’s touch is softer, more delicate as his fingertips graze over Jungkook’s temple. Their murmurs are low, barely more than whispers, but their words are filled with warmth, love, and reassurance.

“You’re safe, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi murmurs, his voice a soft, grounding melody in the quiet room. “We’re right here.”

Namjoon’s voice is just as soothing, though there’s an unmistakable tenderness in it. “We’ll never leave you. You’re not alone.”

Jungkook barely registers the words, too far gone in his exhaustion, but it’s enough to make him feel something deep inside, something that settles his racing heart for just a moment. But even though they’re standing over him, their hands still gently stroking his hair, a feeling of unease stirs inside him. He’s too tired to understand why, but it’s there, a lingering fear that, even in his safe haven, he’s about to be left alone again.

The second they begin to move away, the panic claws its way back into his chest. His hand shoots out, trembling, blindly reaching for them. His fingers grasp at the empty air, desperate to find the familiar warmth of the alphas, to keep them with him. His breath hitches in his throat as his heart lurches with panic.

“No…” he whispers weakly, his voice choked with emotion. The tears that had almost stopped flowing start again, and his breath comes in jagged sobs. “Don’t go... please... don’t leave me…”

The words fall from his mouth, barely comprehensible as his sobs break through. He’s frantic, his chest tight with the sudden wave of fear and loneliness. His whole body shakes, as if he’s about to come apart at the seams, but all he wants is for them to stay, to keep him safe. Why would they leave him? Why would they leave him now, after everything?

Yoongi and Namjoon freeze for a split second, both of them startled. But neither hesitates. Without a second thought, they both rush back to his side, their strong arms immediately enveloping him once more.

Yoongi slides into the bed behind him, his body warm and steady against Jungkook’s back, while Namjoon positions himself in front, his chest against Jungkook’s, holding him securely in the space between them. They’re both so strong, so solid, a wall of protection that Jungkook can’t help but melt into.

“Shh, shh, baby,” Yoongi whispers, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck, his breath warm against the younger boy’s skin. “We’re not leaving you. We’re here. You’re safe. You’re safe with us.

Namjoon’s large hands rub up and down Jungkook’s arms in smooth, rhythmic motions, grounding him, keeping him tethered to the present moment. “You’re safe, pup. We’re not going anywhere. You’re safe. Sleep now. We’ve got you.”

Jungkook doesn’t understand all the words, but the tone, the way their voices soothe him, it’s enough. The overwhelming warmth and the feeling of being held, of being loved and protected, finally ease the last of the panic from his chest. His body seems to relax, a deep, exhausted sigh leaving his lips as his eyelids flutter closed.

Yoongi pulls him closer, his arms locking around him, and Namjoon shifts slightly, making sure their hold on him is firm and comforting.

With each breath, Jungkook’s body grows heavier, and before long, the tears that had been flowing so freely are no more. His sobs quiet to gentle breaths, and the sounds of Yoongi and Namjoon murmuring soft reassurances fade into the background as he drifts off into a much-needed, peaceful sleep.

And for the first time in a long while, Jungkook feels truly safe.

In their arms, surrounded by their warmth.

He is home.

--

Jungkook's mind refuses to quiet.

The darkness wraps around him like a suffocating shroud, thick and heavy, pressing down on his chest. He’s not in the pack house anymore. The warmth of Namjoon and Yoongi is gone. Instead, the air is damp, the scent of wood and something rotten lingering around him. He knows this place. He knows it too well.

Jungkook shudders, his breath coming out in short, shallow gasps as his eyes dart around the dimly lit room. It’s familiar—the wooden walls, the old cot in the corner, the single candle burning low on the small table. His old room. The one he had spent a month of life trapped in, hidden away.

A sharp creak makes his blood run cold.

No. No, please—

He tries to move, but his body won’t obey. It’s like his limbs are frozen, weighed down by an invisible force. His breath quickens, chest rising and falling in uneven, panicked bursts.

And then he feels it.

A hand—large, calloused, and unbearably heavy—settling over his shoulder, then sliding down his arm.

Jungkook’s entire body locks up, a strangled gasp caught in his throat. The grip tightens, fingers digging into his skin, pressing bruises into his flesh.

"Look at you," Sungil’s voice murmurs against his ear, low and sickly sweet, sending a violent shudder down Jungkook’s spine. "You thought you could run from me? That you could belong anywhere else but here?"

Jungkook tries to move, tries to jerk away, but he can’t. He’s trapped, forced to endure as Sungil’s fingers trail over his arm, up to his neck, before pressing against his jaw.

"You’ve always been mine, Jungkookie," Sungil whispers, his fingers tilting Jungkook’s chin up. "No matter where you go, no matter who you cry to... you’ll always belong to me."

A sob chokes out of Jungkook’s throat as he finally regains control over his body. He thrashes wildly, trying to pull away, but Sungil’s grip only tightens, nails biting into his skin.

"No—!"

Jungkook’s scream rips through the air as he jerks awake, his entire body jolting violently.

He’s back. He’s in the pack house, in bed, surrounded by warmth and the steady, comforting scent of alpha. But his body doesn’t understand that. His heart is hammering against his ribs, his skin crawling with the lingering ghost of Sungil’s touch.

His breaths come in short, erratic gasps, his vision blurred with unshed tears. His body trembles uncontrollably, hands gripping the blankets so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

"Jungkook-ah?"

Namjoon’s voice is thick with sleep but instantly laced with concern. A second later, a hand is on his back, firm and grounding.

"Hey, hey, what’s wrong?" Yoongi’s voice follows, groggy but alert, and then Jungkook feels both of them moving closer.

Jungkook gasps, his body flinching violently at the sudden touch, the lingering echoes of his nightmare still wrapped around him like chains. He can still feel Sungil’s hands on him, the weight of them, the way they had pressed into his skin like a brand.

"Pup, look at me," Namjoon’s voice is calm but firm, his other hand coming to cup Jungkook’s face gently. "It’s us. You’re safe."

Jungkook’s breath stutters, his body still caught between the nightmare and reality. His eyes dart around wildly, searching for shadows, for movement, for—

"Shh, baby, you’re okay," Yoongi whispers, pressing closer, his warmth enveloping Jungkook from behind. "You’re not there. He’s not here. You’re with us."

Jungkook shudders, a broken sob escaping his lips as Namjoon’s thumb strokes over his cheek in slow, reassuring circles. His throat is tight, words trapped in his chest, but his body responds before his mind can catch up—he lunges forward, burying himself against Namjoon’s chest.

Namjoon makes a soft, pained sound, immediately wrapping his arms around Jungkook, holding him securely. Yoongi follows, his arms looping around Jungkook from behind, their warmth caging him in, keeping him grounded.

"You’re safe," Namjoon murmurs against his hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "I promise you. No one is going to hurt you."

Jungkook cries harder, clutching onto Namjoon’s shirt with trembling hands. His body is still shaking, the phantom touch of Sungil still crawling over his skin, but Namjoon's and Yoongi’s warmth is starting to seep into him, chasing away the cold, chasing away the nightmare.

Namjoon’s hand slides up to Jungkook’s jaw, tilting his face up slightly. His eyes are soft but filled with worry, scanning Jungkook’s tear-streaked face.

"Do you want to tell hyung about it?" he asks gently.

Jungkook swallows thickly, his voice hoarse when he finally speaks.

"I—" His breath hitches. "It was him. He—he found me. He t-touched me."

Namjoon’s arms tighten around him instantly, his whole body going rigid. Yoongi’s grip on his jaw tightens just slightly, his normally soft, sleepy eyes darkening with something cold. "What do you mean, baby?"

Jungkook shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as a fresh wave of panic threatens to overtake him. "He—he said I belong to him. That I—I can’t belong anywhere else."

A low, dangerous growl rumbles in Namjoon’s chest. His grip on Jungkook remains gentle, but there’s a tension in his muscles, barely contained fury simmering beneath his skin. Yoongi doesn’t growl, but his whole body has gone still, his fingers twitching slightly where they rest on Jungkook’s arm.

"He’s never touching you," Namjoon says, his voice low and firm, but there’s an edge to it, a sharp promise. "He will never lay a hand on you again."

Yoongi presses a lingering kiss to Jungkook’s nape, his lips warm against his damp skin. "Not while we’re alive."

Jungkook shudders, another sob breaking free, but this time, it’s not just fear. It’s relief. It’s the weight of knowing that he’s not alone, that he has them.

That they won’t let Sungil take him back.

Yoongi and Namjoon murmur soft reassurances, their hands petting his hair, rubbing slow circles on his back, grounding him back into the present. Jungkook clings to them both, his breath still shaky, but slowly, the tightness in his chest begins to ease.

The nightmare still lingers, the memory of Sungil’s touch like a phantom against his skin, but his hyungs' warmth is stronger.

And with their arms wrapped around him, their voices murmuring sweet, comforting words into his hair, Jungkook finally allows himself to believe that he's safe with them.

Jungkook barely registers the way Namjoon and Yoongi move him, guiding him back down onto the soft mattress. His body feels too heavy, too exhausted to do anything but follow their lead. His breathing is still uneven, his chest rising and falling in shallow gasps, but their hands are on him—warm, grounding, safe.

Namjoon’s arms tighten around him, strong and steady as he shifts so that Jungkook is curled against his chest once more. Yoongi is at his back, his presence just as firm, just as unwavering. They don’t let go of him, don’t pull away, their bodies forming a protective cocoon around him.

Gentle fingers card through his damp hair, smoothing it back from his clammy forehead. Another hand—Namjoon’s—cups his cheek, thumb stroking slow, reassuring circles against his skin. It’s soothing, the sensation melting some of the tension still lingering in his muscles.

"You’re safe, Jungkookie," Namjoon murmurs against his temple, his voice a deep, soothing rumble. "We’ve got you."

Yoongi presses a soft kiss to the crown of his head, his breath warm against Jungkook’s hair. "No one is taking you from us."

Jungkook swallows hard, his throat still raw from his cries, but he manages a weak nod. He believes them. He does. Even if the nightmare still lingers like a shadow at the edge of his mind, he knows—deep in his bones—that as long as Namjoon and Yoongi are here, he is safe.

"Sleep, baby," Yoongi whispers, his fingers tracing light patterns against Jungkook’s arm. "We’re right here. We’re not going anywhere."

Namjoon hums in agreement, shifting just enough to tuck Jungkook closer, his arms securing around him as if anchoring him to the present, to them. "Close your eyes, pup. Just rest."

Their words are soft, their touches even softer, lulling Jungkook back down into warmth, into safety. His body still trembles faintly, his mind still reeling from the nightmare, but he lets himself sink into their embrace, into their voices, into their presence.

His breaths start to even out, the lingering tension slowly ebbing away as Namjoon and Yoongi continue to murmur sweet reassurances, their hands never ceasing their gentle touches.

And this time, when Jungkook drifts off, he doesn’t dream of Sungil.

He only feels warmth. Safe. Loved.

Notes:

Heyyy!!

More angst because it's just sooo good 😩! Also, can we talk about Namjoon calling Jungkook "Pup" and Yoongi calling him "Baby"??? 🐾💖 If their protective instincts weren't already on full throttle, I doubt they’ll be able to stop themselves from wrapping Jungkook in soft blankets and keeping him safe from now on!! 😂 But to be honest, I think we're all here for it 😍

Please, Sungil, just leave poor Kookie alone!! 😣💔

Hope you're all doing well!! 💕

Chapter 26: Scent of Home

Summary:

Jungkook learns what It means to belong

Jungkook’s face burns as he lays there, completely still in the cocoon of warmth surrounding him. His heart pounds, embarrassment creeping in like a slow tide. He hadn’t been thinking staight last night. He hadn’t been in control of himself. He had run barefoot through the snow like a child scared of the dark. Had sobbed and begged for his hyungs to stay. Had clung to them like they were the only things keeping him tethered to the earth.

They must’ve been so annoyed.

The thought makes his stomach twist painfully. He’s never needed anyone like this before. Not when he was younger, not when he had no one, not even when things were at their worst. But last night, everything had unraveled, and he’d been left raw and exposed. He knows he should move—should slip out of their hold, at least try to save himself from the utter humiliation of facing them—but Yoongi’s arm is heavy around his waist, and Namjoon’s hand is still resting on his head, fingers lightly tangled in his hair.

They’re warm. Safe. His throat tightens.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut and exhales slowly, willing the mortification away. Maybe if he pretends to be asleep a little longer, he can delay the inevitable. Maybe they won’t mention it. Maybe they won’t look at him differently.

But then the arm around his waist tightens, pulling him in just a fraction closer, and a groggy voice murmurs against the back of his head.

“Awake?” Yoongi’s voice is low and husky with sleep, his breath tickling Jungkook’s skin.

Jungkook stiffens immediately. He swallows hard and hesitates before nodding, his face heating even more. He can feel the way Yoongi shifts behind him, the bed dipping slightly. Then another voice, warm and gentle, speaks near his ear.

“How do you feel, Jungkook-ah?” Namjoon this time.

Jungkook bites his lip. How does he feel?

Embarrassed. Small. Like he took too much, like he was too much. But he doesn’t say that. Instead, he mumbles, “M’fine…” his voice barely above a whisper.

Yoongi makes a soft, disbelieving sound. “Liar.”

Jungkook tenses.

“You were terrified last night,” Namjoon says, his tone impossibly soft. “You ran through the snow barefoot, knocking on our door in the middle of the night. Then you had another nightmare and woke up shaking.”

Jungkook’s stomach drops.

“We’re not mad, Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon adds quickly, like he knows exactly what Jungkook is thinking. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Not at all,” Yoongi murmurs, his fingers moving slightly in Jungkook’s hair, soothing. “You were scared. You needed us. That’s okay.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw, suddenly overwhelmed. He doesn’t know how to respond to that, doesn’t know how to handle the kindness, the unwavering patience. No one has ever reassured him like this. No one has ever held him through the worst of his nightmares and told him it was okay.

He swallows past the lump in his throat and squeezes his eyes shut again, hiding his face in the pillow. “Still… I woke you up. You didn’t have to…”

Yoongi sighs, and then suddenly, he’s pulling Jungkook even closer, tucking him against his chest. “We wanted to,” he says simply.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, his lungs shaking as he tries to steady himself. His heart is still racing, the residual panic from his nightmares clinging to his ribs like a vice. He clenches Namjoon's shirt, forcing himself to focus on his breathing, in—out, in—out. Like Yoongi had shown him.

But then, something shifts.

The air feels different, heavier, richer. It seeps into his senses, thick and undeniable. At first, he doesn’t understand. But then—

Cedarwood. Warm, strong, grounding. A touch of musk, deep and familiar.

Namjoon.

Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly, his fingers twitching against the fabric. He recognizes this. He knows this. Seokjin had said it before—said Namjoon’s scent was like the deep woods, steady and firm like the pack’s foundation. But Jungkook had never been able to smell it. Not until now.

And then—

Sandalwood. Spiced cinnamon, deep and earthy. There’s a slow burn to it, a quiet intensity, like the warmth of a fire smoldering beneath the surface. It curls around him, heady but not overwhelming.

Yoongi.

Jungkook swallows hard. He has been close to the alphas before, close enough that he should have been able to pick up their scents, but he never had. Until yesterday, in his panic. The memory crashes into him like a wave—how he had known Namjoon was close before even seeing him, how he had breathed Yoongi in without realizing. It had felt instinctual, natural, something he hadn’t questioned in the moment.

But now, in the stillness of the morning, it gnaws at him.

Why now? Why all of a sudden?

Jungkook’s fingers tremble as he presses them to his lips. He needs to tell them. He needs to tell them.

A sharp inhale beside him.

“Jungkook-ah?” Namjoon’s voice is soft but firm, laced with concern. “You okay?”

Jungkook startles. He hadn’t realized he had gone still, his entire body tense with thought. He swallows. His throat is dry.

“I…” His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper. He hesitates, licking his lips. “I can smell you.”

There’s a pause.

Yoongi tilts his head slightly. “What?”

Jungkook exhales shakily, pressing his hands together to stop them from shaking. “I—I can smell you. Both of you.” He looks between them, nervous energy crawling under his skin. “I never could before.”

Namjoon stills. His eyes sharpen, scanning Jungkook’s face as if searching for any sign of distress. “You mean our scents?”

Jungkook nods, his breath unsteady. “Seokjin-hyung told me what you guys smelled like, but I—I never actually noticed it myself. Until yesterday.” His fingers twist into the blanket. “When I was panicking.”

Yoongi’s gaze darkens slightly, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the way his jaw tenses, the subtle shift in his scent. A flicker of something intense flashes through Namjoon’s eyes, but his voice remains calm.

“That’s… interesting,” Namjoon murmurs, his eyes never leaving Jungkook’s. “And now? What do you smell?”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. “Cedarwood. Musk. That’s you Namjoon-hyung.” His gaze flickers to Yoongi. “Sandalwood and cinnamon. Yoongi-hyung.”

The air in the room feels heavier now, weighted with something Jungkook can’t name. The alphas exchange a look, something unspoken passing between them. Jungkook’s stomach twists.

“Is something wrong with me?” His voice is smaller now, the question slipping out before he can stop it. His pulse quickens, and a rush of anxious thoughts flood his mind. What if this isn’t normal? What if this means something bad? What if—

“No,” Namjoon interrupts his spiral before it can take root. His voice is steady, absolute. “There’s nothing wrong with you, pup.”

Yoongi hums in agreement. “Jinnie did say it was possible, didn’t he?” His voice is quieter, more thoughtful, but there’s a distinct sharpness to his gaze. “That your body could adjust over time.”

Jungkook hesitates. He remembers Seokjin saying that, but hearing it now, it feels different. The uncertainty in his chest doesn’t completely fade. He shifts, exhaling shakily.

Namjoon must sense it because, in the next second, he moves. A warm, solid hand comes up to cup the back of Jungkook’s head, fingers threading gently through his hair. The touch is grounding, steady. “Breathe, pup,” Namjoon murmurs, voice deep and reassuring. “You’re okay.”

Yoongi moves too, reaching out to press a hand against Jungkook’s arm—a simple touch, but it holds weight. His thumb rubs slow circles through the blanket. “You’re fine, Kook-ah.” His voice is lower, but it holds the same warmth, the same quiet reassurance.

Jungkook exhales. He focuses on their scents, now familiar. Cedarwood and musk, sandalwood and cinnamon. Warmth and safety.

He’s okay.

For now, that’s enough.

“You should eat something,” Namjoon says, voice gentle but firm. “After everything last night, you need to get something in your system.”

Jungkook hesitates, his fingers still curled in the blanket, but the warmth in Namjoon’s voice soothes something raw in his chest. Yoongi, still close, tilts his head, sharp eyes watching him carefully.

“You’re coming,” Yoongi says, not leaving room for debate. “No arguments.”

Jungkook swallows, then nods. He doesn’t have the energy to argue, and, truthfully, the idea of staying alone upstairs leaves an uneasy weight in his chest.

Namjoon offers him a hand. Jungkook hesitates only a second before taking it, letting the alpha pull him gently to his feet. His knees protest the movement, a dull ache radiating up his legs, and his balance wavers. He stiffens, gritting his teeth as his muscles threaten to buckle.

Yoongi clicks his tongue. “Careful.”

Jungkook blinks up at him. The alpha’s eyes are sharp, knowing.

“You hurt your knees yesterday remember?,” Yoongi reminds him, his voice quieter now, lower. “I can tell your legs feel weak.” His gaze flickers downward, and then, without another word, he presses a steadying hand against the small of Jungkook’s back, guiding him toward the door.

Jungkook doesn’t argue. He lets the warmth of Yoongi’s palm anchor him, lets Namjoon’s steady presence beside him keep him grounded. Step by step, he follows them down the stairs, careful not to jolt his knees too much.

As they reach the lower level, a new scent fills the air. Warm, rich spices. Seared meat. The buttery, toasty aroma of something fresh off the pan. Jungkook’s stomach clenches—not in hunger, but in something softer, something almost nostalgic. It smells good. Comforting.

They round the corner, and the moment they step into the common area, movement catches Jungkook’s eye.

The kitchen door swings open.

And then—

“Jungkookie!”

Seokjin comes barreling toward him so fast that Jungkook barely has time to react before he’s engulfed in a hug, strong arms wrapping around him and squeezing tight. Jungkook lets out a startled sound, eyes widening as he’s suddenly pressed against Seokjin’s chest, warm and firm and so very present.

“I was so worried,” Seokjin says, voice tight with emotion. “I woke up and—God—I could smell your distress everywhere in the house. It clung to the walls, Jungkook.” His grip tightens, as if making sure Jungkook is really here, solid and whole in his arms. “I came downstairs, and you weren’t there. I thought—” He exhales sharply, cutting himself off. Seokjin’s scent swells, soft Jasmine curling around Jungkook like a protective cocoon.

Jungkook blinks, momentarily stunned as a new scent weaves through the air—fresh Jasmine, unmistakably Seokjin. The realization hits him like a sudden gust of wind, stealing his breath. He can smell him too.

“I—I’m okay,” he stammers, though he doesn’t push Seokjin away.

Seokjin scoffs, pulling back just enough to look him over, hands still firm on Jungkook’s shoulders. His dark eyes flicker with something unreadable, scanning him carefully. “Are you?”

Jungkook hesitates. He’s exhausted. His body aches. There’s still a faint tremor in his hands.

But he’s here.

He meets Seokjin’s gaze and nods. “Yes hyung.” His voice is quieter now, steadier. “I am.”

Seokjin stares at him for a long moment, then sighs, finally loosening his grip—but he doesn’t fully let go. Instead, one hand comes up to press against Jungkook’s cheek, thumb brushing lightly over his skin.

“Good,” Seokjin murmurs. His voice is softer now, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “Then let’s get you fed now, okay?”

Jungkook exhales, nodding. “Okay.”

Behind him, Namjoon and Yoongi watch with quiet approval, their steady scents wrapping around him like a second layer of warmth.

They settle Jungkook onto the couch, wrapping him in layers of soft, fluffy blankets. The warmth is immediate, sinking into his chilled skin and soothing the last remnants of his trembling limbs. Seokjin disappears into the kitchen, and when he returns, his arms are full—bowls of steaming food carefully balanced as he makes his way over.

The alphas allow Seokjin to take the spot beside Jungkook, close enough that their shoulders press together. Jungkook doesn’t mind. The beta’s presence is comforting, a quiet, steady reassurance. Namjoon and Yoongi, however, take the opposite couch, their sharp eyes never leaving him for too long.

As soon as Seokjin places the food down, his attention shifts entirely to Jungkook.

“Are you warm enough?” he asks, fussing immediately—readjusting the blankets, brushing Jungkook’s bangs from his forehead as if checking for any lingering fever. “You’re not feeling lightheaded, are you? Did you get any sleep after—”

“I’m okay hyung,” Jungkook interrupts softly, though he doesn’t pull away.

Seokjin exhales, not entirely convinced, but he nods. Then, gentler this time, he asks, “What happened, sweetheart?”

Jungkook hesitates, fingers tightening around the edge of the blanket.

“I had a nightmare,” he admits, voice quieter now. “It—it made me panic, so I came here.”

The alphas exchange a glance.

“That’s all?” Yoongi asks, raising an eyebrow.

Jungkook swallows, suddenly feeling small under their gazes.

Namjoon sighs, leaning forward, elbows braced against his knees. His voice is careful but firm when he says, “Jungkook-ah, you didn’t just come here. You ran through the snow in the middle of the night, without a coat, without shoes.” There’s a sharpness to his tone, but not in anger—no, it’s laced with something deeper, something that borders on fear. “You were freezing. You had a panic attack.”

Jungkook bites his lip, dropping his gaze. He hadn’t wanted to make a big deal out of it. Seokjin’s hand finds his, warm and grounding.

“Do you want to talk about it?” the beta asks gently.

Jungkook hesitates. His throat feels tight, but the words come anyway.

“The dreams,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. “They were about him. About Sungil.” He swallows. “He was hurting me.” A shaky breath. “And he was threatening to hurt all of you.”

The room falls into heavy silence. Seokjin’s grip on his hand tightens. Across from him, Yoongi’s jaw tenses, and Namjoon’s fingers curl into fists where they rest on his knees.

Jungkook closes his eyes for a moment, trying to steady himself. The weight of their attention is almost too much. But then Seokjin shifts closer, the warmth of his presence seeping into Jungkook’s side, and Namjoon and Yoongi—despite their stormy expressions—soften their scents just enough to let Jungkook know that they’re here.

That they heard him. That they won’t let anything happen to him.

Jungkook exhales slowly, fingers tightening around the edge of the blanket before he lifts his gaze to his hyungs. Their eyes are still heavy with concern, watching him closely, but he doesn’t want them to worry too much.

“I do still feel… a little unsettled,” he admits, voice soft, “but now that I know it was just a dream, I feel a lot better.” He offers a small smile, hoping to reassure them. “And I’m actually looking forward to the Moon Festival today.”

The room goes quiet for a beat.

The alphas exchange looks, silent communication passing between them in the way only a close-knit pack can manage. Then, it’s Namjoon who speaks first, his voice gentle but hesitant.

“Are you sure you want to go?” he asks carefully. “It’s okay if you don’t. No one would blame you.”

Yoongi nods in agreement, eyes sharp despite the softness in his voice. “You’ve had a rough night, Jungkook-ah. You don’t have to push yourself.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “I want to go,” he insists, a little firmer this time. “I’ve been excited about it and it will make me feel better.” His smile turns a little sheepish. “I don’t want to miss it just because of a nightmare.”

There’s another pause before Namjoon sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. Yoongi merely huffs under his breath, but neither of them push further.

Seokjin, sensing the tension easing, takes it upon himself to get Jungkook fed. Without another word, he reaches for a plate and starts filling it with food, his movements practiced and efficient. Jungkook watches as warm rice, tender meat, and sautéed vegetables pile onto the plate before Seokjin hands it to him with a cup of steaming tea.

“Eat,” Seokjin says simply, but there’s warmth in his voice, a quiet fondness.

Jungkook takes the plate with a grateful smile, the lingering tension in his chest slowly unraveling as the scent of warm spices and tea wraps around him like a comforting embrace.

After a while, soft footsteps echo down the stairs, and moments later, Hoseok appears in the room. His hair is still tousled from sleep, and his sweatshirt hangs loosely off one shoulder, but his eyes are sharp—focused entirely on Jungkook.

Without hesitation, he moves straight toward the couch, bypassing the others, and settles beside Jungkook. There’s no greeting, no teasing remark—only the warmth of his presence as he reaches out, cupping Jungkook’s face between his hands.

This close, Jungkook can breathe it in, the scent wrapping around him like the warmth of the morning sun spilling through open windows. It’s familiar—so achingly familiar—soft yet bright, carrying the unmistakable comfort of home.

The delicate floral sweetness of lilacs lingers in the air, light and airy, like the first bloom of spring after a long, unforgiving winter. But beneath it, there’s something warmer, something golden—like the feeling of sunlight kissing bare skin, like the laughter of someone who’s never known how to do anything but love. It’s Hoseok, through and through.

Jungkook blinks up at him, startled. Hoseok’s thumbs brush over his cheekbones, his palms warm against Jungkook’s skin as he tilts his head slightly, observing him with quiet intensity. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t ask any questions—just looks.

Then, after a long moment, Hoseok exhales and murmurs, “You’re okay.”

It’s not a question. It’s a fact. A reassurance. A truth that Hoseok seems to need to say out loud.

Jungkook swallows, something tight settling in his chest.

Hoseok finally lowers his hands but stays close, his sharp gaze never wavering. “I smelled it,” he says, voice softer now. “Your distress, when I woke up.” His expression darkens slightly. “But everyone else’s scents were calm, so I knew you were safe. That you weren’t alone.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair before shaking his head. “Still… I had to see for myself.”

Jungkook’s throat feels tight. He hadn’t even realized Hoseok had picked up on his distress too. The thought of his hyung waking up and knowing something had been wrong—even when he hadn’t seen it firsthand—makes warmth bloom in Jungkook’s chest.

He ducks his head slightly, voice small but sincere.

Warmth spreads through Jungkook’s chest so fast, so intensely, that it feels like he might combust right then and there. Before he even thinks about it, he’s moving—closing the distance and throwing his arms around Hoseok in a tight hug.

Hoseok doesn’t hesitate for even a second before hugging him back, his embrace firm and reassuring. There’s no teasing, no playful quips—just the solid warmth of his arms around Jungkook’s shoulders, grounding him in the moment. His hand moves up to pat Jungkook’s head, a quiet gesture of affection, before he finally pulls back.

But even as he lets go, he doesn’t release Jungkook completely. Instead, his fingers slide down to take Jungkook’s hand, holding it lightly in his own as if to say, I’m still here. You’re still safe.

Hoseok leans back against the couch, his grip still secure as he glances at the others. “You know,” he starts, voice lighter now, “when Jimin and Taehyung wake up and smell Jungkook’s distress, they’re gonna flip.”

Yoongi snorts. Namjoon huffs a quiet laugh. Seokjin just shakes his head, amused.

“Jimin might go all dominant on him,” Namjoon muses, eyes twinkling with fondness.

Jungkook blinks in confusion. “Dominant?”

Seokjin chuckles, shifting to explain. “Jimin’s a slightly more dominant omega. It’s not something you’d always notice because, well—” he gestures vaguely, “—he’s short and adorable.”

Jungkook thinks of Jimin’s bright smile, his soft giggles, the way he practically radiates sweetness. He is adorable. But…

“But when it comes to protecting the people he loves,” Hoseok adds, “he gets intense.” He smirks. “Especially over Taehyungie, since he’s younger. And probably you too, now.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly.

Him?

He swallows, warmth blooming all over again, not just from Hoseok’s hand in his but from the realization settling in his chest—this pack cares about him. Protects him. Worries over him in ways he’s never known before.

Jungkook’s mind flickers back to the night he first saw Jimin’s wolf—how the small but fierce creature had immediately positioned itself in front of Taehyung, shielding him without hesitation. How Jimin had growled when the hunters had tugged too roughly on Taehyung’s restraints, his entire body taut with protective aggression.

Even later, when they had been in the hut, when he had been helping tend to their wounds, he had still been watching Jungkook. Not just watching—analyzing. Gauging every move Jungkook made, every glance he sent toward the wounded white wolf beside him. There had been no outright hostility, but there had been a caution, protectiveness.

And now they were saying Jimin might be protective of him?

Jungkook shakes his head, disbelief tugging at his features. “There’s no way,” he says, voice quiet but sure. “Jimin doesn’t feel like that about me. We barely know each other.”

The hyungs exchange knowing looks, as if they find his doubt almost amusing. It’s Namjoon who speaks first, his voice calm and even. “You don’t have to know someone for long to form a bond, Jungkook-ah.”

“Especially not an omega,” Seokjin adds, tilting his head. “You already have a connection with them. You spent time taking care of them. You were there to help them. You were the one who helped bring them back to the pack.”

Hoseok hums, squeezing Jungkook’s hand gently. “It’s not surprising at all that they’d feel attached to you. And it wouldn’t be surprising if you felt the same way about them, even if you don’t realize it yet.”

The room falls into a quiet, comfortable lull as they all look at each other, considering how best to explain. Namjoon is the first to break the silence, his voice steady and comforting.

“Wolves are territorial by nature,” he begins, his gaze soft but serious. “That’s part of what makes pack bonds so important to us. We’re drawn to each other, naturally. But for omegas, that bond is even stronger—especially within a pack.”

Jungkook listens closely, still processing what they’d said about Jimin and Taehyung, and now this new piece of information. He watches Namjoon as he continues, seeing the weight of the words behind them.

“Omegas tend to form bonds faster than alphas or betas,” Seokjin adds, his voice thoughtful. “It’s not a weakness, though. It’s just part of who they are.”

Hoseok nods, picking up from Seokjin’s words. “They’re more sensitive to emotional connections, to the people they trust. And that means—” He pauses, glancing at Jungkook, his expression a little teasing now. “—when an omega likes someone, whether it’s romantic or just friendship… they’re possessive.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow. “Possessive?”

Yoongi offers a small shrug, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he adds, “It’s not a bad thing, sweetie. They just… care. A lot. And they don’t want anyone to take what’s theirs.”

The realization sinks in slowly. It’s not about ownership, not in the way he’d initially thought. It’s just that for omegas, bonds are deeper. Stronger. And when they like someone, they protect that bond fiercely.

“And, uh,” Hoseok adds with a small, almost sheepish grin, “the bond can sometimes be even stronger when it’s formed through a traumatic experience. Something like what happened with Taehyungie and Minnie, between the three of you.”

Jungkook’s throat tightens, but his mind flashes back to that cold, terrifying night in the hut—when everything had been uncertain and scary.

“You’ve been through something traumatic... with them,” Namjoon continues, leaning forward slightly. “Omegas, especially, bond quicker when they go through something like that. You don’t need to overthink it too much. It’s just how things work for us shifters.”

Seokjin’s smile is reassuring as he adds, “It’s all normal. Don’t let it overwhelm you, okay?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, letting the words settle into him. He’s still processing it all, but he feels a little lighter. The weight of their explanation makes things clearer, even if it feels a bit overwhelming in the moment. He nods slowly, feeling the familiar warmth of the pack around him.

“Okay,” he whispers, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll try not to overthink it.”

The others exchange knowing glances, and for the first time in a while, Jungkook feels like he’s starting to understand a little better what it means to be part of this pack.

The table is quiet for a moment, save for the soft clink of silverware against plates as they all eat. Jungkook’s stomach feels warm, both from the delicious food and the comfort of being surrounded by his hyungs. The meal is everything he needed—he realizes now how hungry he actually was, but it’s more than that. The food tastes like care, and he can’t help but smile as he takes another bite, making sure to turn toward Seokjin.

“This is really good, Jin-hyung,” Jungkook says sincerely, his voice a little lighter than before. “Thank you.”

Seokjin beams at him, his eyes crinkling with joy, and without warning, he reaches over to pinch Jungkook’s cheek playfully. “Glad you like it, Jungkookie! You know you don’t have to thank me every time.”

Jungkook laughs, slightly flustered from the attention, but it feels good. It feels right.

As Seokjin and Hoseok begin to stand, collecting the empty plates to take them back to the kitchen, the sounds of their movements fade into the background, replaced by the quiet peace of the moment.

Then, a sudden commotion breaks the calm—fast footsteps pounding down the stairs.

Jungkook barely has time to look up before Jimin bursts into the room. His expression is sharp, uncharacteristically serious. The kind of focus in his eyes reminds Jungkook instantly of the protective stance of Jimin’s wolf—the same intensity he’d seen when Jimin had stepped in front of Taehyung, growling at the hunters. There’s no trace of his usual teasing, no hint of his playful side. It’s all business now, and Jungkook’s stomach tightens.

Jimin locks eyes with him, his gaze sharp and unwavering. The tension is almost palpable as he closes the distance between them. Before Jungkook can even register what’s happening, Jimin moves in like a flash, strong arms wrapping around him and effortlessly pulling him onto his lap.

Jungkook’s breath catches, and he blinks in surprise. His brain scrambles to catch up with the situation, his heart beating in a confused rhythm. He’s in Jimin’s lap, sitting there with no warning, Jimin’s arms firm and insistent around his waist.

“What—” Jungkook starts to stammer, but Jimin just holds him, his hands strong and comforting against his back, his expression still serious.

“You’re alright?” Jimin asks, voice low and commanding, but not unkind. It’s clear this isn’t a playful move. Something about the shift in Jimin’s demeanor has made Jungkook’s pulse quicken.

Jungkook swallows, his mind still whirling. “I—yeah. I’m fine, hyung. I was just… eating.”

But Jimin doesn’t let him go, his grip not tight but protective, like he’s making sure Jungkook stays grounded, stays safe. It’s the same protectiveness Jungkook saw the night of the hunters, the same protectiveness Jimin had shown when he stood in front of Taehyung, and now Jungkook feels it all directed at him.

Jungkook’s mind is still racing, trying to wrap itself around everything that’s happened in the past few hours, when the scent hits him. It’s soft at first—almost subtle—but it’s unmistakable when it reaches him, the sweet, rich scent of cherries. Jimin’s scent.

It’s comforting. It calms something in him he didn’t even realize was still frayed. He blinks and glances up at Jimin, and his chest tightens.

Jimin’s expression softens as their eyes meet. Jungkook can’t help but sag further into the omega’s embrace, his body relaxing under Jimin’s warm, firm hold. He feels safe, something he hadn’t realized he’d been craving until now.

“I’m fine,” Jungkook murmurs, his voice soft, though it’s not entirely convincing. He buries his face into Jimin’s chest, breathing in the familiar scent, feeling the way his heartbeat slows in sync with Jimin’s steady presence.

But Jimin doesn’t buy it. Not for a second.

Jimin’s grip tightens around him just a little, and Jungkook can feel the subtle way the omega’s scent intensifies, the cherries filling the air. “No, you’re not,” Jimin says, his voice soft but firm. “I can still smell it, Jungkook. The distress is still there. It’s like it’s clinging to you.”

Jungkook hesitates, a sudden lump forming in his throat. He doesn’t want to burden anyone, but it’s so clear now, the way Jimin looks at him with that steady intensity.

“If anyone hurt you,” Jimin continues, his words low and quiet, “I’ll make sure to deal with it. You won’t have to face it alone.”

The words sink into Jungkook’s chest, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of everything he’s been carrying just… fades. He doesn’t even know why it’s so reassuring, why it makes him feel so warm inside. Maybe it’s because he knows Jimin doesn’t have to say those words. He’s not obligated to. But he says them anyway. And Jungkook can feel that sincerity in every syllable, in the way Jimin’s arms wrap around him.

It’s real. It’s not empty. Jimin would do that for him.

Jungkook swallows hard, pressing closer into Jimin’s embrace. He pulls the omega just a little tighter, his heart swelling in a strange way. “I’m okay now,” he whispers softly. “Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung… they made it better. I’m okay now.”

But Jimin’s expression doesn’t soften. If anything, it grows more intense, more determined. “I don’t care if you’re okay now,” he says, his voice low and unwavering. “I want to know what happened. All of it.”

The silence stretches for a moment. Jungkook feels a knot tighten in his chest, but it’s not fear. It’s something else—something he can’t quite name. He glances back at the alphas, hoping for some guidance.

Namjoon is the first to speak, his tone calm but serious. “Jungkook had a nightmare last night,” he begins, meeting Jimin’s gaze. “A panic attack followed. He ran to the house, barefoot and without a coat. We found him in the snow, freezing and panicked. We had to calm him down.”

Yoongi picks up the explanation, his voice steady, though there’s still a hint of worry in his eyes. “He said the dream was about Sungil. About him hurting Jungkook—and threatening to hurt the pack, too.”

Jimin’s jaw clenches at the mention of Sungil’s name. The air grows heavier with the weight of the words, but Jimin doesn’t say anything immediately. He just holds Jungkook tighter, as though he’s trying to take the sting out of the whole situation by just being there.

Jungkook stays quiet for a moment, letting the explanation settle. But Jimin doesn’t let go of him. Instead, he murmurs, “You’re safe now, pup. You’ve got us.”

Jungkook’s heart stutters, and he feels the urge to respond. But instead, he just nods, tightening his grip on Jimin once more. And in that moment, he realizes that Jimin isn’t just holding him for comfort. He’s holding him because, somehow, Jimin has already claimed him as part of his own. And Jungkook feels that. He feels it in his bones.

The moment Jungkook relaxes into Jimin’s arms, another scent hits him—sweet and intoxicating, like ripe raspberries on a summer day. It’s so close, so familiar, and before he even looks, he knows it’s Taehyung. He must have been there all along, quietly watching from the moment Jimin had entered the room.

Without thinking, Jungkook reaches out instinctively, his hand brushing the air until it finds Taehyung. Taehyung doesn’t hesitate. His arms wrap around Jungkook like a lifeline, steady and strong, pulling him gently into his embrace. The movement is seamless, the kind of unspoken comfort that only the closest of bonds could allow.

Jungkook doesn’t fight it, he lets himself fall into Taehyung’s arms, and they both tumble onto the couch. Laughter spills from Jungkook’s lips before he even realizes it, the warmth of Taehyung’s body pressing against his like a reassurance he never knew he needed. It’s easy. Effortless.

They lie there together, tangled up in each other, arms and legs intertwined. The world outside doesn’t matter right now. They don’t need to speak—there’s no need for words to express how they feel. The soft pulse of Taehyung’s breath against his chest is all the communication he needs. Jungkook closes his eyes, sinking into the moment, letting the world slip away.

Taehyung’s scent, sweet and comforting, fills his senses. The raspberries are so close now, wrapping around him like a soft blanket, and Jungkook breathes him in deeply, savoring the moment. It’s grounding. It’s like everything he’s been feeling—every fear, every worry—starts to dissolve in the warmth of Taehyung’s presence.

Jimin’s voice breaks the quiet, his hand ruffling both of their heads affectionately. “My babies,” he teases with a grin in his voice. “You two are a mess, you know that?”

But the teasing tone doesn’t change the tenderness in his words. Jungkook can feel the affection radiating off of Jimin, and it makes him feel safe, secure. He opens his eyes for a moment, and for the first time in a while, he doesn’t feel lost. He feels like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be—held close by those who care about him, surrounded by a warmth that melts away the shadows of his past.

Taehyung shifts slightly, pulling Jungkook even closer, and Jungkook smiles softly, burying his face into Taehyung’s shoulder. There’s no need for more than this. No need for anything else. He’s home.

Jungkook presses closer to Taehyung, burying his face in the soft curve of his neck. The scent that greets him is overwhelmingly sweet, like a field of ripened raspberries in the summer sun. His lips twitch into a small smile as he breathes Taehyung in, the sweetness lingering in his senses.

"You smell so sweet," Jungkook murmurs quietly, not really thinking about what he’s saying.

At his words, the room falls into complete silence. It’s so sudden, the shift in the air so palpable, that Jungkook doesn’t even realize what he’s done at first. His heart stutters in his chest as the sharpness of the scents around him suddenly intensifies. It’s like the air itself is alive, responding to his admission.

Taehyung’s scent sharpens, becoming even sweeter, if that’s even possible, and Jungkook can feel the change in the omega’s body next to him—subtle, but unmistakable. But it’s the others' reactions that catch him off guard. The air is heavier now, and the tension in the room shifts. Everyone freezes, their attention focused entirely on him, save for Namjoon and Yoongi, who watch with steady eyes.

Jimin is the first to break the silence, his voice laced with surprise. "What do you mean?" he asks, the usual teasing gone from his tone, replaced by genuine curiosity.

Jungkook blinks, suddenly realizing the magnitude of what he’s just said. He pulls back slightly from Taehyung, sitting up just a little, but still close. “I mean… I can smell your scents now,” he says, his words soft but clear. “Before, I couldn’t. But since yesterday, after Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung helped me, I’ve been able to smell them. Jin-hyung told me what everyone smells like, but now… I can smell it for myself.”

He looks around the room, meeting each of their gazes in turn. “Taehyungie-hyung smells like sweet raspberries,” Jungkook continues, his voice soft with wonder. "Jimin-hyung, you smell like cherries. Hoseok-hyung… you smell like fresh lilacs. And Jin-hyung like jasmine.”

The moment he finishes speaking, the room goes still, the tension building in the air. Jimin’s expression is unreadable, but the slight shift in his posture tells Jungkook that the omega is processing his words.

Seokjin’s scent becomes richer, the jasmine blending with a hint of something more protective, while Hoseok’s lilac scent seems to warm, like the soft glow of a sunrise. Jungkook suddenly realizes just how much these scents mean to them—how much it means for him to be able to recognize them all. The feeling is overwhelming, like a deep bond solidifying within him.

He looks up at his hyungs, unsure of how to proceed, but the warmth in their eyes, the pride that has started to mix with the usual softness, reassures him. Namjoon gives him a slight nod, his eyes soft and knowing, while Yoongi’s gaze is steady, an unspoken promise lingering between them.

Jimin takes a deep breath, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips as he watches Jungkook. "So, you can smell us now, huh?" he says, his tone light but filled with something else—pride, maybe. 

"Can you smell your own scent?". Hoseok’s question hangs in the air, gentle yet curious. His eyes soft with a mixture of interest and something deeper—like he’s waiting for a sign, for something to click into place.

Jungkook is silent for a moment, his mind racing. He had been so caught up in the newness of everything—the overwhelming sweetness of Taehyung’s scent, the sharpness of the air that had shifted when he’d spoken—that he hadn’t even thought about his own. But now, with a deep breath, he pulls away just slightly from Taehyung, feeling the weight of all the attention in the room on him.

Once seated, the space between him and Taehyung feels a bit wider, and the air is different. The raspberries are no longer right next to him, and the other scents begin to come into focus. And then… he catches it. A faint trace, something sweet but subtle.

“Honey… and vanilla,” Jungkook says softly, his voice almost unsure. It’s weaker compared to the other scents, more difficult to pick up, maybe because it’s his own.

The room quiets for a moment, the group absorbing this new piece of information. Jimin and Seokjin exchange looks, both of them processing, while Yoongi and Namjoon simply nod, like they had been expecting this in some way.

Hoseok leans forward, his eyes full of thought. “Your senses are getting better. It’s probably because you’ve been healing,” he says gently, his tone almost coaxing, like he’s piecing things together as he speaks. “Your body’s regaining its strength. Plus… yesterday, when Joonie and Yoongi-hyung helped you… you’ve probably bonded?”

Jungkook looks at them all, confusion still lingering. He hadn’t realized anything had changed, but as Hoseok continues, it begins to make sense.

“You’ve probably bonded with them. And… with Jin-hyung and Hobi-hyung too, I’d say. You’ve spent so much time with them. They’ve been around you for a while now, and your bonds must be forming too.”

Jungkook feels the weight of those words. Bonds. He’d never really thought about what it meant, beyond the idea of being with them. But now, it’s like a light flickers on inside of him. He feels it now—like he’s intertwined with them in some invisible way, something deeper than just shared space. They’ve all grown closer, and their scents, so familiar now, reflect that.

“So…” Jungkook starts, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m bonded to you all now?”

Namjoon and Yoongi’s eyes meet across the room. The weight of everything lingers there, in their gazes, in the way they look at him. Yoongi’s usual calmness is tinged with something more protective, while Namjoon’s gaze softens, something almost tender behind it.

“Yeah,” Namjoon says quietly, his deep voice resonating. “I think so.”

It hits Jungkook then, fully. There’s no turning back. He’s not just part of their pack now—he’s bonded to them, in a way that’s deeper than he ever thought possible. And somehow, despite the overwhelming shift in his world, despite everything that’s been so new and so fast, it feels right. Like he was always meant to be here, with them.

As the tension eases and the realization settles in, Jungkook looks around the room. He feels the weight of their bond in a way he hadn’t expected, but now, surrounded by them, he understands. This is family. And this bond? It’s something sacred.

Jungkook’s voice is soft, almost uncertain as he asks, “What does it mean, though? To be bonded with all of you?”

The room grows quiet for a moment, as if the weight of the question settles in. The hyungs share a glance, the unspoken understanding passing between them. It’s Hoseok who speaks first, his voice gentle, but firm.

“Bonding happens when you care deeply for someone," he explains. "It’s something natural, something that happens over time when two individuals share a strong connection. It’s not just about being close physically. It reflects how much you trust and care for each other, how deep your relationship goes.”

Seokjin leans in slightly, his voice carrying warmth as he adds, “There are all sorts of bonds—between lovers, close friends, family. You can bond with anyone you feel deeply connected to. And those bonds are different depending on the relationship. But they always mean one thing, that you’re close, really close. It’s not something to take lightly. It shows how much you mean to each other.”

Jungkook absorbs the words, the depth of them sinking in. He turns to look at all of them, feeling the weight of the bond they now share. A part of him feels humbled, like he’s been accepted in a way he’s never felt before. His heart swells with emotion.

“I’m glad I bonded with you all,” he says quietly, the words sincere and heartfelt. “Your scents… they feel warm and safe to me.”

At that, the entire room softens, their expressions melting into something tender. Jimin and Taehyung, always the playful ones, exchange knowing glances before turning their attention back to Jungkook.

“You like our scents, huh?” Jimin teases, his voice light and mischievous. He leans in closer to Jungkook, his eyes sparkling. “Do you like mine, too?” he asks with a wink, his playful grin widening.

Taehyung, never one to let Jimin have all the attention, chimes in, “Oh, I think Jungkook likes mine better.” He shifts slightly, making sure Jungkook can smell the faint, sweet raspberries that cling to his skin, leaning closer with a playful glint in his eye. “It’s sweet, right? Just like me.”

Jungkook can’t help but laugh, the teasing bringing a warmth to his chest. The playful banter feels so natural, so easy. He shrugs with a smile, trying to act nonchalant, but the butterflies in his stomach are hard to hide.

“I guess I do,” he admits, his voice soft but genuine. “But honestly, all of your scents are so comforting. It’s like… a safety net I didn’t even know I needed.” His words hang in the air for a moment before Jimin and Taehyung jump on the opportunity to tease him.

“Mm, comforted by my sweet cherries?” Jimin pouts in mock offense, but his eyes gleam with mischief. “Maybe I’ll just keep you close so you can always smell it.”

Taehyung laughs, rolling his eyes in playful exasperation. “Don’t be greedy, Minnie. Jungkook likes all of us.” He leans in closer to Jungkook, eyes softening as he continues, “You smell so sweet, though. Like… a desert. Warm and soft, like honey and vanilla shortcake.” He adds in a teasing tone, “You’re lucky you smell so good, or we might have had to kick you out of the pack!”

Jungkook feels his heart flutter at the compliment, the warmth of their words washing over him. He blushes, unable to help it, but his smile is soft and sincere. “I… I’m really glad I’m here with all of you,” he murmurs, not just to Taehyung but to all of them. “It feels right, being with you.”

The room goes quiet for a moment, the atmosphere filled with a sense of closeness, of shared understanding. They don’t need to say anything else, the bonds between them are already solidifying. And as Jungkook lies there, surrounded by them, he knows that he’s finally found his place.

Hoseok’s eyes twinkle with mischief, and Jungkook feels a heat rise in his cheeks as the older grins at him. “Oh, Jungkookiiie,” Hoseok says, dragging out his name in a teasing tone, “We all think you smell good too. But it’s not just us, you know. I’ve heard people talking about it, too.” He leans back with a dramatic sigh. “How your scent is so sweet, how it makes people want to get closer to you. It’s... captivating, really.”

Jungkook’s face turns a deep shade of red at the comment. He can feel his heart racing, the idea of people talking about him like that making him feel exposed. “H-Hyung, please stop teasing me,” he stammers, his embarrassment clear in his voice. He tries to cover his face with his hands, but the older beta just grins wider.

“No need to be shy,” Hoseok continues, chuckling at how flustered Jungkook looks. “It’s a compliment, you know? People notice how sweet you smell. Don’t be embarrassed.”

Jungkook shakes his head, still not able to believe what Hoseok is saying. “It’s probably not even true. You’re just messing with me,” he insists.

Seokjin, who had been quietly observing the teasing, sighs as he shakes his head in mock disapproval. “It’s true, Jungkookie,” he says with a small smile, his voice gentle but firm. “I’ve heard the same things. People talk about how your scent is... pleasant, to put it lightly.” He pauses, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of others talking about Jungkook’s scent like that, but continues, “Even if I don’t like the idea of people talking about you like that, it’s something that’s out of our control.”

Jungkook looks at Seokjin, his face still flushed with embarrassment. “I didn’t ask for this...” he mumbles under his breath, but the smile tugging at the corners of Seokjin’s lips says it all.

“Not all things are under our control, Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin replies, voice full of understanding. “But you have a special scent, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Hoseok, not missing a beat, grins and pats Jungkook on the shoulder. “See? You’re not just sweet to us. You’re sweet to everyone.”

Jungkook groans, sinking further into the couch, wishing he could disappear into the cushions. His heart is racing with embarrassment, but somewhere in the midst of it all, there’s a strange sense of pride. He doesn’t fully understand why his scent is getting so much attention, but he feels safe knowing the people around him don’t mind, even if it makes him blush a thousand shades of red.

The teasing finally stops when Jimin and Taehyung, who had been quietly listening, suddenly shift the focus to something else. Jimin grins at Jungkook, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Alright, enough teasing,” he says, leaning closer to Jungkook. “We’ve got something much more important to talk about.”

Jungkook blinks, still recovering from the teasing, and looks at the two omegas. “What is it?” he asks, a little confused but intrigued by their sudden enthusiasm.

Taehyung, sitting beside Jimin, bounces slightly in his seat. “The Moon Festival! You’re coming with us, right? You have to dress up!” he exclaims, his voice full of eagerness. Jungkook stares at him, a little lost. Dress up? He hadn’t realized that was part of the plan.

“You didn’t know?” Jimin teases, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, it’s not mandatory, but it’s so much fun.” He leans forward and gives Jungkook a reassuring smile. “It’s all about feeling pretty and having a good time. And it’s definitely something you should experience with us.”

Jungkook hesitates. “I... I didn’t know we had to dress up.” His voice is small, feeling a little embarrassed at his lack of knowledge about the tradition.

Taehyung laughs and pats his shoulder. “You don’t have to, of course. But it’s a lot more fun when we’re all dressed up! You can borrow some of my clothes. We’re about the same height, so it’ll work.”

Jimin nods in agreement, giving Jungkook an encouraging smile. “Yeah, it’ll be a blast! You’re not just getting all dressed up for the festival, you’re doing it with family, with us.”

The alphas, who had been quiet up until now, exchange knowing glances before Namjoon speaks up. “You should definitely join them, Jungkook-ah,” he says with a smile, his voice soft but insistent. “It’ll be a good time, and it’ll help you feel more at home with us.”

Yoongi adds, “Yeah, it’s about bonding. You’ll have fun. Trust me.” His usual cool demeanor softens just a little, showing that he genuinely wants Jungkook to enjoy himself.

Jungkook feels a wave of warmth from the support around him, the alphas’ words filling him with reassurance. He looks over at Taehyung and Jimin, who are clearly excited at the idea of him joining in. They’re both practically glowing with joy, their smiles wide and genuine.

“Alright, alright,” Jungkook says, giving in with a small smile. “I’ll do it. I’ll dress up.”

The two omegas cheer, and Taehyung immediately stands up, excitedly grabbing Jungkook's hands. “Yes! You’re going to look great, I just know it!”

Jimin winks at Jungkook. “You’re going to have so much fun. Trust me, it’s all about letting loose and being with people who care about you.”

Jungkook’s heart swells with warmth, and for the first time in a while, he feels a little less like an outsider. He’s not just participating for the sake of it—he’s doing it because these people, his pack, want him to be a part of something joyful.

Something that will bring them closer together.

He’s happy to be included.

Notes:

Heyyy y’all !! 💖✨

I somehow managed to finish editing this one today too, so I figured—why not post it now? 😆🎉

Also… Jungkook, sweetie?? Family?? 😭😭 Like, sure sweetie… but let’s be real, I highly doubt they just want to be your siblings, LOL. 😂💀

Don’t worry, I’m giving you all a little break from the angst this time (you’re welcome! 😌💕).

The Moon Festival is coming up, and I cannot wait!! 🌙🌸🌿

Take care, lovelies! 🥰💫💛

Chapter 27: Moon Festival

Summary:

The Moon festival is starting yay !

The moment they finish eating, Jimin and Taehyung practically drag Jungkook to their dressing room, their excitement palpable. The room is grander than Jungkook, spacious, organized with an almost enchanting atmosphere.

Rows of pristine dressers, full closets, and neatly arranged shoe racks line the walls, everything a soft pastel of elegance. There are small shelves filled with accessories and delicate items he can’t quite name. It’s a room full of light, warmth, and possibilities, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a little awed by it all.

Jimin and Taehyung waste no time. They start by sorting through their own clothes, both of them tossing a few pieces onto the bed with quick, decisive movements. They take their time to select their own outfits, ensuring everything looks perfect for the Moon Festival.

Jimin, with his signature confidence, selects a flowing, deep amber-colored traditional robe. The long sleeves have delicate embroidery running along the edges, threads of gold that catch the light. The robe is made of soft, warm fabric with a faint shimmer, making it look like Jimin is wrapped in the glow of the setting sun. The collar is high and elegant, adorned with intricate golden clasps that add an air of regal charm. The amber hue of his outfit seems to mirror his sunny, fiery nature.

Taehyung's outfit is a rich emerald green, the color of forests and life. His robe is equally grand, the fabric flowing effortlessly as he moves, embroidered with swirling patterns of silver and jade thread that resemble the winding vines of a tree. The sleeves are wide and flowy, giving him an ethereal, almost otherworldly appearance. The neckline is more open than Jimin's, with soft green silk wrapping around his neck, and silver clasps hang delicately, giving a sense of ease but elegance. 

Finally, they turn to Jungkook.

After examining the outfits on their bed, they choose a pale blush pink robe for him. The robe flows just as gracefully as the others, the material soft and warm with a slight sheen that makes him look like he’s wrapped in the very essence of winter itself. The long sleeves have intricate lace-like embroidery along the edges, made of delicate silver and pink threads, resembling frosted snowflakes.

The collar is high and elegant, but the robe is cut in a way that it gives off a more youthful, delicate vibe, with soft folds that mirror the gentle curve of his body. Around the collar and wrists, pale pink ribbons tie the robe together in a way that feels playful. The entire outfit carries an air of sweetness.

Together, Jimin’s amber, Taehyung’s green, and Jungkook’s pink create a beautiful harmony—each of them shining in their own light, yet complementing each other in a way that feels as though they were made to be together. 

Jimin and Taehyung stand back, admiring the outfits they’ve chosen. “You’re going to look amazing in this,” Jimin says, giving Jungkook a bright, mischievous smile. “Trust me, you’ll stand out just as much as us.”

Taehyung nods eagerly. “You’ll be the most beautiful one there, Jungkook. I can feel it.”

Jungkook smiles shyly, his heart fluttering at their words. He can already tell this night is going to be something he’ll never forget.

After choosing their outfits, the trio moves to the vanity table in the corner of the room, where an array of hair accessories, jewelry, and cosmetics are laid out. Jimin and Taehyung are practically buzzing with excitement, and Jungkook, though a little more reserved, is slowly starting to get into the spirit of the occasion.

The first step is to tame their hair. Jimin and Taehyung both have silky blond strands, and they take turns styling each other's hair. The atmosphere is lighthearted and playful as Jimin expertly gathers the top half of his hair, pulling it into two cute, high ponytails. The ribbons that tie them are long and delicate, soft amber in color to match the gold accents of his outfit.

Each ribbon is perfectly tied in a bow, fluttering gently with the movement of his hair. Small silver hairpins are placed just above the ties, each one holding a sparkling gemstone—a mixture of amber and citrine—that catches the light. 

Taehyung watches with a smile, running his fingers through his own hair, before deciding to do something similar. He pulls the top half of his darker hair up into two loose ponytails, each one a bit lower than Jimin’s. His hair is smooth, almost wavy, and it catches the light beautifully.

He chooses long ribbons in a deep forest green to tie them, the color rich and vibrant, and when he ties them into bows, the tails of the ribbons flutter gracefully. Adorning each ponytail is a small, intricate hairpin shaped like a leaf, with emerald gemstones nestled inside them. The pins twinkle in the light, completing the look with an earthy, nature-inspired elegance.

Jungkook, watching with admiration, takes a deep breath and sits down, ready to follow their lead. He carefully gathers his own hair, parting it gently down the middle, and pulls the top half into two ponytails, just like Jimin and Taehyung. His hair is slightly shorter, but still soft and wavy, framing his face in gentle waves.

He chooses light pink ribbons, soft as petals, to tie each ponytail, the delicate shade perfectly matching his outfit. When he ties them, he makes sure the bows are neat, but not too tight. Just like Jimin and Taehyung, Jungkook uses small, delicate hairpins to secure his hair. His pins are crafted in the shape of tiny blossoms, with small pink and pearl gemstones nestled into the metal. 

Once their hair is done, they turn to the jewelry. Jimin picks out a pair of long, elegant earrings—slender golden hoops with tiny amber-colored stones dangling from them. The earrings catch the light as he moves, adding a soft shimmer to his look. He also selects a simple bracelet for his wrist, gold with a delicate charm shaped like a crescent moon, the charm encrusted with small amber stones that complement his outfit.

Taehyung goes for a set of earrings that are more unusual. They’re long, dangly earrings with cascading chains of silver and green gemstones, each one catching the light with every movement. He also picks out a simple leather bracelet, wrapped around his wrist a few times, with small wooden beads that bring a touch of natural texture to his look.

Jungkook’s jewelry is simpler, but no less beautiful. He picks out a pair of dainty silver studs for his ears, each set with a soft pink pearl that glows against his skin. Around his neck, he chooses a delicate chain with a small charm—a tiny heart shaped like a flower, engraved with intricate patterns. It rests just above his collarbone.

Finally, they move to the makeup. Jimin applies a soft blush to the apples of his cheeks, the color just enough to give him a healthy glow. He also adds a light touch of peachy lipstick to his lips. Taehyung chooses a pale pink blush that enhances his natural complexion, giving his face a soft, warm radiance. A touch of clear gloss is all he needs for his lips—just enough to keep them soft and glossy.

Jungkook watches them carefully, taking a deep breath, he's never put on makeup before. He chooses a light peach blush, just a little to bring out the natural flush in his cheeks, and a touch of pink gloss to his lips. The gloss is subtle, just enough to give them a soft, inviting shine. It’s not much, but it makes his face look brighter and more awake, and the warmth of it settles into him like a soft hug.

When they all step back from the mirror, admiring their finished looks, it feels as though the entire room is glowing with warmth and happiness. Their outfits, hair, and accessories match perfectly, and for the first time in a long while, Jungkook feels truly beautiful. He feels part of something—a bond deeper than just companionship. He feels at home.

When all three of them are ready, they gently guide Jungkook to stand in front of the full-length mirror.

Jungkook stands still, eyes wide, as he takes in the sight of himself. He doesn’t quite know how to feel. He’s never seen himself like this before—never worn such beautiful garments, never adorned himself with jewelry like this. The soft pinks, the delicate embroidery, the way everything falls just right, it’s all so foreign to him.

Jimin and Taehyung stand beside him, both already breathtaking. They were beautiful before, but now? Dressed like this, they almost seem untouchable, like something straight out of a dream. They carry such a natural confidence, as though they’re completely aware of how stunning they are.

Jungkook can’t help but feel a little out of place. He’s not used to seeing himself like this. He wants to believe he looks good, but doubt creeps in. What will the hyungs think of him in this outfit? Will he stand out too much? Will he look awkward next to Jimin and Taehyung, who seem to effortlessly own the room?

Just as he feels himself beginning to overthink, Jimin and Taehyung both smile at him. “You look beautiful,” Jimin says softly, his voice full of sincerity. “The pink makes you look even softer, even more... you.”

Taehyung grins playfully, his eyes sparkling. “Honestly, we almost regret dressing you like this,” he teases. “Everyone’s going to be staring at you for sure.”

Jungkook’s cheeks flush, and a soft smile tugs at his lips. He still feels a little unsure, but their words, the warmth in their eyes, make him feel just a bit more at ease.

Getting ready had taken them longer than Jungkook had anticipated. With Jimin and Taehyung taking their time to pick out the perfect pieces, adjusting the ribbons in their hair, and adding those final touches to their outfits, the clock had somehow ticked away faster than he realized. The room was filled with laughter and soft chatter as they all prepared, the anticipation palpable.

As they stand in front of the mirror for the final check, Taehyung glances at his watch with a playful smirk. "We have to hurry, or the hyungs are going to tease us for taking too long," he says, voice laced with mischief.

Jimin chuckles softly, adjusting his sleeve one more time before nodding in agreement. "You’re right. Let’s go."

Jungkook, still feeling a bit nervous in his outfit, shyly follows behind them. His feet move slower than usual, as though the weight of his doubts is pulling him back. Despite the reassuring words from the omegas, he can't shake the feeling of being out of place. His heart pounds in his chest as he trails after them, each step seeming louder in his ears.  

When they finally reach the common area and step into view, the room falls silent. It’s as if the world has stopped for a moment, and the only thing that matters is the three of them standing in the doorway.  

Gasps fill the air, and Jungkook can feel the weight of every gaze on them. Taehyung and Jimin glow with confidence, their smiles radiant, each movement carrying the elegance of someone used to the spotlight. Compliments come swiftly, flowing from the mouths of the hyungs without hesitation.  

“Wow, you two look amazing,” Seokjin says, his voice warm but full of awe, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he looks at them both. “You should wear these more often.”  

Hoseok raises his eyebrows, clearly impressed. “I’m almost jealous of how good you both look.”  

Jimin and Taehyung exchange a pleased glance, clearly enjoying the attention they so effortlessly command. Then, with dramatic flair, they both turn to Jungkook. Their eyes sparkle with mischief, and in unison, they announce, “And now, we present our masterpiece.”  

The hyungs shift their attention to Jungkook, their smiles lingering on Taehyung and Jimin for just a moment before they settle on him.  

Jungkook, though shy and unsure, feels their gazes instantly. The atmosphere in the room shifts—he feels it in the air, like a subtle change creeping under his skin. He catches the faint increase in the strength of their scents, how each one intensifies, sharpening with unspoken thoughts. It’s almost as if they all inhale a shared breath.  

Namjoon’s scent thickens slightly with an undercurrent that makes Jungkook’s heart race. Yoongi’s deep, earthy scent wraps around him like a shield. Seokjin’s jasmine aura grows lighter, but still holds a quiet strength. Hoseok’s lilac scent sharpens ever so slightly.  

Jungkook swallows, suddenly hyperaware of how much he stands out in this moment, how different he feels compared to just a few hours ago. The weight of their gazes, the unspoken tension in the air, leaves him feeling both overwhelmed and oddly comforted. He has never been the center of attention like this, not like this.  

But the longer he stands there, the more warmth he feels. Their scents mix together, creating a safe space around him, and the weight on his shoulders lightens, even if just a little. He doesn’t know what exactly has changed, but in this room, surrounded by his hyungs, he suddenly feels like he doesn’t have to overthink it so much.  

Then, Jimin steps closer, his hand resting lightly on Jungkook’s shoulder, his voice warm but teasing. “You look perfect, Kookie. Don’t worry about the hyungs staring. They’re all just jealous they didn’t look this good today.”  

Jungkook’s lips part slightly, eyes wide as he looks at Jimin. His heart flutters at the playful yet gentle way Jimin speaks to him. It’s like the tension dissipates, replaced by something softer, something more comforting.  

The hyungs exchange glances, some still caught up in their own admiration, but all of them visibly relaxing as they take in the sight of Jungkook standing there.  

Jimin huffs, placing his hands on his hips as he turns to the hyungs, his lips pursed in exasperation. "Alright, say something before Kookie starts overthinking and gets it all wrong," he urges, nudging Seokjin and Hoseok forward.  

Seokjin steps closer first, his gaze scanning Jungkook’s face. His expression is unreadable for a moment—something fond yet serious—before his lips curl into a smile. He reaches up, fingers brushing over the ribbons tied neatly into Jungkook’s hair, adjusting them slightly before murmuring, “You look beautiful like this.”  

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, his hands instinctively curling into the fabric of his sleeves.  

Hoseok follows right after, stepping into his space with his usual ease, though his sharp eyes hold a glimmer of something deeper. He flicks lightly at one of Jungkook’s earrings.

"Hyung's right," he says, voice warm with amusement. "You look so pretty, Jungkook-ah. People are definitely going to be staring at you—and at these two troublemakers too," he adds, tossing an affectionate glance toward Jimin and Taehyung.  

Jungkook feels his face burning, heart hammering against his ribs, but before he can even attempt to gather himself, he realizes that Namjoon and Yoongi still haven’t said anything. They’re both standing just slightly off to the side, watching him. Jungkook swallows under the weight of their gazes, so different yet equally intense.  

Then, as if coming to a silent decision, they finally step forward.  

Yoongi reaches him first, slow and deliberate. His dark eyes flicker over Jungkook’s face. For a moment, he simply stares, as if memorizing the sight, and then he lifts a hand, fingers brushing lightly against Jungkook’s cheek.  

Jungkook barely suppresses the tiny shiver that runs down his spine at the touch, at the way Yoongi’s fingertips are warm against his skin.  

"You look stunning," Yoongi murmurs, voice low, rich—careful, yet unshakable in its certainty.  

Jungkook barely has a second to breathe before Namjoon is suddenly there too.  

The alpha steps in closer, towering over him, warmth radiating from his broad frame. His gaze, deep and unwavering, locks onto Jungkook’s as he slowly reaches for his hand. Jungkook doesn’t resist, doesn’t even think to pull away as Namjoon takes his fingers in his own, thumb brushing lightly against his knuckles.  

Namjoon exhales, voice nothing but soft sincerity when he finally speaks. "You’re breathtaking, Jungkook-ah."  

The words knock the air right out of him.  

Jungkook feels like he’s burning from the inside out. His entire body flushes with heat, his skin buzzing from every small touch, every lingering gaze. He can’t do this—he can’t look at any of them right now.  

With a strangled noise, he quickly ducks his head, unable to meet their eyes any longer, hands clenching at the fabric of his sleeves. Jimin and Taehyung snicker beside him, but their scents are warm, affectionate, amused yet undeniably proud.  

Jungkook, however, can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed by them—not when he’s already so overwhelmed by the way Namjoon and Yoongi are looking at him like this, like he is something precious.   

When Jungkook finally gathers the courage to lift his head again, he takes in the sight before him—the way his hyungs have also dressed up for the festival. His breath catches slightly at the sheer elegance they carry, the way the traditional garments fit them so perfectly, enhancing everything about them that is already captivating.

His gaze first lands on Seokjin and Hoseok. Their outfits, though similar in style to his own, lack the delicate bows and ribbons, replaced instead with a more refined structure.

Seokjin is draped in rich amethyst, his robe flowing around him like liquid silk. Silver embroidery swirls along the sleeves and hem, shimmering subtly under the lantern light. The deep purple shade contrasts beautifully against his fair skin, making him look ethereal—like something out of a legend. The sash at his waist is a darker shade of violet, grounding the lighter tones of his robe. His hair is pinned back elegantly, with a few strands left loose to frame his handsome features. 

Hoseok, standing beside him, is nothing short of radiant. His robes are a shimmering gold, layers of warm honey cascading around him like sunlight. The fabric catches the light beautifully, creating a soft glow around him with every movement. Delicate embroidery in pale gold thread runs along the edges, intricate and elegant. The inner layers of his robes are a slightly deeper shade, giving a striking depth to his silhouette. His hair is half-pinned back, golden ornaments woven subtly into the strands, catching the light when he moves. He looks like the embodiment of warmth—majestic yet playful, commanding attention without even trying.

Jungkook swallows, his heart beating a little too fast. Of course, they look stunning. They always do. But seeing them like this, so elegantly dressed, makes something flutter in his chest, something unfamiliar and hard to ignore.

Then, his gaze shifts to Namjoon and Yoongi, and his breath nearly stutters.

The two alphas stand apart in their darker, more commanding attire, an unmistakable presence in the room.

Namjoon is dressed in deep wine red, his robes tailored to highlight the strong lines of his frame. Unlike the flowing elegance of the betas' attire, his is structured, his sleeves slightly narrower, his shoulders accentuated by the cut of the fabric. Black leather straps wind subtly around his forearms, adding a rougher edge to the otherwise traditional ensemble. A thick black belt cinches at his waist, and beneath the outer layers of his robe, hints of dark leather peek through. His hair, pushed back neatly, reveals the sharpness of his jaw, the quiet intensity in his eyes.

Yoongi, standing beside him, is equally striking in dark blue. His robes are slightly looser than Namjoon’s but no less commanding. The deep navy fabric drapes around him in smooth, flowing layers, embroidered with barely visible black thread in swirling patterns reminiscent of storm clouds. A dark leather vest-like piece is fitted snugly around his torso, fastened with silver clasps, giving him an air of quiet authority. His hair is half-tied back, leaving a few strands loose to frame his face, the soft waves adding a touch of something almost ethereal to his otherwise formidable presence.

Jungkook feels heat creep up his neck.

They look—intimidating. Handsome in a way that makes his heart stumble, in a way that feels almost too much.

His fingers tighten slightly around the fabric of his sleeves, his gaze dropping again as his cheeks turn warm. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to survive the night like this, not when his hyungs look like that.

As they move toward the front door, chatting quietly among themselves, Yoongi suddenly stops. His sharp eyes scan Jungkook’s movements, and a frown tugs at his lips.

“Where are your crutches?” he asks, his voice low but firm.

Jungkook blinks, then glances down at his hands as if just now realizing they’re empty. “Oh… I didn’t take them last night,” he admits. His tone is casual, but there’s a flicker of hesitation in his gaze, as if he knows exactly where this conversation is about to go.

Yoongi’s frown deepens. “And you’re walking just fine?”

“I am,” Jungkook insists quickly, straightening his posture. “My leg doesn’t really hurt anymore. Just my knees, but it’s only scratches. I’ll be fine.”

A silence stretches between them, the alphas and betas exchanging glances. Namjoon’s brow furrows in concern, and Seokjin tilts his head as if assessing whether Jungkook is being truthful.

“Are you sure?” Hoseok asks gently.

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, really. It’s not bad.”

For a moment, it seems like his hyungs might press the issue, but then Seokjin sighs and ruffles Jungkook’s hair. “Alright, but if you start hurting, you have to tell us, okay?”

Jungkook gives a small smile. “Okay.”

With that settled, they finally step outside. The cold air bites at their cheeks, crisp and sharp, but Jungkook is surprised to find that he’s warm. The thick layers of fabric the omegas had dressed him in trap the heat against his skin, and even the long sleeves and heavy outer robe do a good job of keeping out the wind.

Jimin grins at him. “Told you you’d be warm.”

Jungkook huffs a small laugh. “Yeah, yeah.”

As they walk further into the night, the festival lights glowing in the distance, he finds himself feeling lighter than he has in a long time. When they finally reach the center of the village, Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat.

The entire space is bathed in the warm glow of countless lanterns, their golden light flickering against the crisp air. Delicate moon-shaped ornaments hang from wooden stalls and archways, shimmering as they sway gently in the breeze.

The scent of grilled meats, sweet pastries, and fragrant teas weaves through the crowd, mixing with the soft hum of music played by a group of musicians in the distance. Shifters, dressed in their finest festival attire, move through the streets, their laughter and excited chatter adding to the vibrant energy of the night.

Jungkook turns in a slow circle, trying to take in everything at once. “It’s… beautiful,” he murmurs, mostly to himself, but his hyungs hear him and smile. “What do we do first?” he asks, eyes still wide with wonder.

Hoseok chuckles, throwing an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders. “There’s no official plan. You just do whatever you want.”

Seokjin hums thoughtfully before turning to Jungkook. “So, what do you want to do?”

Jungkook hesitates. “I—” He falters, realizing he doesn’t actually know what there is to do.

Before he can get too flustered, Namjoon steps in. “Why don’t we start by getting something to eat?” he suggests. “We can figure out the rest after that.”

The others nod in agreement, and with that, they make their way toward the food stalls.

As they walk, Jungkook watches Jimin and Taehyung strolling hand in hand, their heads tilted close together as they whisper and giggle. A few steps ahead, Yoongi is engaged in a quiet conversation with Hoseok, his low voice barely audible over the festival sounds. Meanwhile, Seokjin and Namjoon appear to be locked in a dramatic debate about what food to eat first, their expressions growing increasingly animated.

Jungkook can’t help but smile to himself.

For a moment, he lets the world around him fade into soft noise. He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the scent of the festival—warm spices, roasted chestnuts, something sweet and buttery in the air. The cool air brushes against his cheeks, but he hardly notices with the comforting layers of fabric wrapped around him.

It’s a quiet kind of happiness, standing here in the heart of the village, surrounded by the people who have slowly become his home.

As they move through the festival, Jungkook begins to notice how the crowd subtly parts for them, making way as they pass. At first, he doesn’t think much of it—perhaps it’s just courtesy—but then he realizes the pattern. Their gazes flicker toward Namjoon, lingering with quiet deference.

Of course. Namjoon is the pack alpha.

Jungkook glances at Jimin and Taehyung, who seem blissfully unbothered by the attention. He follows their line of sight and notices how other shifters are looking at them—admiring, appreciative, some even awestruck. It’s understandable. The omegas look ethereal, dressed in their flowing silks, hair adorned with ribbons and delicate accessories. They carry themselves with effortless grace, their confidence shining in the way they move through the crowd.

But then, Jungkook realizes something else.

Shifters aren’t just looking at Jimin and Taehyung.

They’re looking at him.

His fingers twitch, resisting the urge to fidget. His heart beats a little faster. Maybe the outfit was too much after all. Maybe he looks out of place. The stares aren’t unkind, but they weigh heavy on him. Every time he accidentally meets someone’s gaze, they don’t look away—not immediately, at least.

He swallows, lowering his head slightly.

And then, amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, he meets a familiar one.

Kyungmin.

The alpha is watching him with an easy smile, eyes warm and knowing. Jungkook can’t help but smile back, relief settling in his chest. He barely has time to react before Kyungmin steps forward, closing the distance between them with quick, confident strides.

“Jungkook, you look beautiful,” he greets warmly, pulling him into a brief but firm hug. Jungkook startles, not expecting the casual embrace. His hyungs stop immediately, their attention sharpening as they watch the interaction.

Then, just as Kyungmin pulls away, he leans in close, voice dropping to a murmur meant only for Jungkook’s ears.

“Follow my lead.”

Jungkook blinks up at him, confusion flickering across his face.

What does Kyungmin mean by that?

Jungkook barely has time to process Kyungmin’s words before the alpha moves, lifting a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from Jungkook’s forehead. His fingers linger just a second too long, the touch light yet deliberate, before he pulls away. Jungkook stills, wide eyes darting up to Kyungmin’s face, searching for an answer.

But Kyungmin doesn’t give him one.

Instead, he takes Jungkook’s hand in his own and, with an effortless ease, twirls him.

The pink silk of his robes flutters around him, catching the breeze like petals in the wind. His ribbons dance in the air, his hair swaying with the movement. There’s a quiet, fleeting moment where Jungkook almost forgets himself, caught in the surreal feeling of being twirled.

He lets Kyungmin do it.

Not just because he’s curious, but because he wants to know what the alpha meant. So he plays along, just as Kyungmin asked.

When he stops spinning, Jungkook ducks his head shyly, fingers curling slightly where Kyungmin still holds his hand. Then, glancing up through his lashes, he adds, “You look handsome in your outfit.”

Kyungmin grins, pleased, his thumb brushing lightly over Jungkook’s fingers before he releases him.

“I’m excited for you to get your flower crown tonight,” he says, his voice warm, teasing. And then, as if sealing the performance, he pulls Jungkook into another hug, holding him close just long enough for it to be felt.

Jungkook barely has time to react before Kyungmin leans in, whispering just beside his ear, “That should make them react.”

And with that, he pulls away, offering Jungkook one last mischievous smile before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving Jungkook standing there—flushed, breathless, and painfully aware of the way his hyungs are staring.

Jungkook shifts awkwardly under the weight of his hyungs’ stares, his fingers still tingling where Kyungmin had held them. The silence is heavy, thick enough that he can almost feel it pressing against his skin. None of them are speaking, not even Seokjin or Hoseok, who are usually the first to break tense moments like this with a joke or a teasing remark.

Instead, their expressions are stern—eyes still locked on the spot where Kyungmin had disappeared into the crowd.

Namjoon is the first one Jungkook glances at, but the pack alpha’s gaze is sharp, calculating, his jaw set just a little too tight. He doesn’t say anything, but Jungkook can see the way his hands have curled into loose fists at his sides, as if holding himself back from something.

Yoongi, standing beside him, has an expression Jungkook can’t quite decipher. His sharp eyes follow the last traces of Kyungmin’s presence like a lingering ember in the wind. His lips press together, brows twitching slightly, but still, he says nothing.

Hoseok, usually so easygoing, looks almost… bewildered. His lips are parted slightly like he wants to say something but doesn’t know where to start. His gaze flickers between Jungkook and where Kyungmin had walked off.

Seokjin’s brows are raised, arms crossed over his chest. There’s something disapproving in the way his lips are pursed, as if he’s just witnessed something he very much does not approve of.

And then there’s Jimin and Taehyung.

The omegas don’t hide their reactions. Jimin is staring at Jungkook like he’s scandalized, his lips parted in the shape of an unspoken what just happened? Beside him, Taehyung looks both intrigued and mildly annoyed, blinking slowly like he’s processing something.

Jungkook swallows and forces himself to speak.

“Um—Kyungmin is my friend,” he says quickly, his voice a little higher than usual. “He’s someone I met in the village.”

The words hang in the air, but they do little to ease the tension.

Because none of them look convinced.

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably under their scrutiny, his hands gripping the long sleeves of his robes as if the fabric could somehow shield him from the weight of their stares. The silence is thick, pressing against his skin, and he swears he can hear the distant crackling of a fire over the festival’s music.

He risks another glance up, only to find all of them still looking at him—no, glaring would be a better word for what the alphas are doing. Even Hoseok and Seokjin, usually so playful and easygoing, are oddly stiff. The only ones who don’t look completely intimidating are Jimin and Taehyung, but even they have a strange gleam in their eyes.

Jungkook clears his throat. “Uh—what?”

Seokjin narrows his eyes, arms still crossed over his chest. “So, a friend ?” His voice is casual, but Jungkook isn’t fooled—especially not when Seokjin’s gaze drops to Jungkook’s hands as if he can still see Kyungmin’s touch lingering there.

“Yes?” Jungkook answers, suddenly feeling defensive. He had told the truth. Kyungmin is a friend.

Hoseok makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a scoff. “You seemed close,” he mutters, flicking at one of Jungkook’s ribbons as if it personally offended him. His golden robes shimmer under the lantern light, but there’s a sharpness to his usually warm eyes, something unreadable lingering beneath his easy tone.

Jungkook’s brows knit together. “He was just being nice.”

“Nice?” Yoongi’s voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it that makes Jungkook swallow. The dark blue of his robes only makes his gaze look more intense, his sharp eyes pinned on Jungkook like they can see right through him. “Nice is a wave or a quick ‘hello,’ not brushing your hair out of your face and making you twirl like—” He cuts himself off with a slow inhale, as if physically forcing himself to stop talking.

Jungkook blinks at him. “Like what?”

Yoongi looks away. “Never mind.”

Namjoon exhales slowly through his nose, but Jungkook can see the way his fingers twitch, like he wants to grab something—someone—but holds himself back. The deep red of his robes makes him seem even larger, more imposing, and the way his jaw clenches when he finally speaks makes Jungkook’s stomach flutter in a way he doesn’t entirely understand.

“You should be careful, Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon says, his voice low. “Shifters can be… bold at these kinds of events. And someone as—” He stops, as if reconsidering his words. Then, with a heavy exhale, he settles on, “Just be careful.”

Jungkook frowns, confusion settling in his chest. “Kyungmin isn’t—”

“He is,” Taehyung interrupts, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. His voice is lower than usual, lacking its usual airy teasing. “I mean, obviously he is.”

Jungkook turns to him, blinking at the unexpected reaction. “Obviously what?”

“He’s making a point,” Jimin supplies, his lips pressing into a pout. His normally bright eyes are narrowed slightly, and there’s something petulant about the way he keeps adjusting the sash around his waist, as if channeling his frustration into fixing his clothes. “And he’s making sure everyone sees it.”

Jungkook tilts his head, confusion deepening. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Taehyung says quickly, his expression smoothing over. “It doesn’t matter.”

Jimin exhales sharply through his nose and shakes his head. “Yeah. Nothing.”

But it feels like something.

Jungkook looks back at the others, who seem equally tense, though no one outright explains why. There’s something heavy in the air, something he doesn’t quite understand but can feel, thick and lingering.

Seokjin clears his throat, breaking the tension. “Right! Food. We were going to eat, weren’t we?”

Hoseok nods quickly, clapping his hands together. “Yes. Great idea. Let’s... eat.”

Yoongi hums but still doesn’t look away from Jungkook. Namjoon exhales sharply through his nose before finally turning toward the food stalls. Jimin and Taehyung linger beside Jungkook, both still fiddling with their clothes, their scents slightly sharper than before.

Jungkook swallows.

This night just got a lot more complicated.

Jimin makes a point of holding his hand for the rest of the way, his grip firm but not forceful, his fingers laced through Jungkook’s like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Every time Jungkook shifts, thinking maybe he should let go, Jimin’s grip tightens just slightly—just enough to remind him that he doesn’t intend to let go first.

Jungkook’s thoughts churn as they weave through the festival crowd. What had Kyungmin tried to do? What reaction had he talked about? The way he had touched Jungkook’s hair, the way he had twirled him in front of everyone, the way he had made that comment about his flower crown—it had all felt… deliberate. But why?

As they approach the food stalls, the vibrant smells of grilled meats and sweet treats mix with the cool evening air. The lanterns overhead cast a soft, golden glow on the bustling scene, and Jungkook feels a sense of warmth as they make their way toward Halmeoni’s stall. The older woman stands behind the counter, her face lighting up the moment she sees them.

"Ah, Taehyungie! Jiminie! You’ve been gone far too long!" Halmeoni exclaims, her voice warm and rich with affection. She pulls both omegas into a tight hug, kissing their cheeks as she laughs.

Jungkook smiles at the sight of the two of them laughing with Halmeoni, their fondness for her obvious. But as she turns her attention to him, the warmth in her gaze becomes even more intense.

"And who do we have here?" Halmeoni says, her eyes twinkling as she looks Jungkook over. "My, my, look at you! You’re just as pretty as a spring blossom, aren't you?"

Jungkook feels his face flush, unsure how to react. He shifts on his feet, trying not to seem too awkward as she continues her examination. Her smile only widens, clearly impressed by how he looks in his festival robes.

“Such a handsome young man,” Halmeoni hums, almost to herself. “Tell me, Jungkook, is your heart taken?”

Jungkook freezes, caught off guard by the question. He hadn't expected this. The question stirs a tangle of emotions in his chest. His heart... He tries to push down the fluttering sensations, the confusion, the thoughts he can’t make sense of.

No, he thinks. His heart isn’t taken.

“No,” he answers softly, shaking his head. "My heart isn’t taken." The words feel strange on his tongue, like a little lie he’s telling himself.

Halmeoni beams at him, delighted. "Well, that makes me very happy! Such a sweet thing like you deserves to be surrounded by all kinds of love." Her eyes twinkle mischievously as she adds, “Tonight, during the Festival, I’ll be giving out flower crowns, you know. You absolutely must join in. Someone as pretty as you should definitely wear one.”

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat. Flower crowns? He hadn’t decided if he would participate yet. His gaze flickers nervously to the rest of the group. He can feel his chest tighten with the thought of standing out even more. But Halmeoni doesn’t seem to notice his discomfort, her eyes glowing with excitement.

“Jungkook, you’ll be perfect for one of these,” she continues, placing a hand on her heart. “There are so many unmated alphas in the pack who would be perfect for you. Confident, strong… they’d be lucky to have someone as beautiful as you.”

Her words make his chest tighten. He looks down at the delicate pink ribbons in his hair, the flowy fabric of his robes. He doesn’t feel confident or like he belongs in the same world as those alphas—doesn’t feel like he’s allowed to be the one who catches their attention.

Halmeoni doesn’t notice his hesitation, though, as she continues to encourage him. “You must make a statement tonight, Jungkook. Accept the flower crown. Show everyone how you’re a force to be reckoned with. Everyone will know you’re someone special.”

Jungkook swallows, unsure how to respond. His heart pounds in his chest. He feels exposed, like Halmeoni’s suggestion has turned him into something he’s not sure he wants to be. But even more than that, he wonders—Why does it feel so wrong to think about this when he’s already surrounded by his hyungs?

“Ah,” Halmeoni sighs dreamily, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face. “I’m sure whoever sees you with that crown will be falling over themselves to have a chance with you. You’re just too charming to resist.” She pats his cheek affectionately, making him feel even more overwhelmed.

Jungkook forces a smile, nodding lightly, but inside he feels conflicted. A flower crown? He’s not sure he’s ready for what that could mean. But if anything, he’s more aware now than ever that everyone around him sees him as something... to be desired.

A quick glance at his hyungs reveals their expressions are unreadable, though he can sense the subtle tension in the air. They’re all standing a little closer than they were before, eyes flickering between each other and Jungkook. Jungkook suddenly feels like he’s caught in a whirlwind of attention—and it's more than a little unsettling.

Jungkook barely has time to brace himself before Halmeoni turns her teasing smile on him. “Ah, Jungkook, you really look absolutely beautiful tonight,” she coos, eyes twinkling with mischief. “So many alphas are going to be vying for your attention. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have a line of them waiting for you after you receive your crown.”

Jungkook blinks, heat rushing to his face. He shifts uncomfortably, but before he can respond, Halmeoni glances at his hyungs, clearly gauging their reactions.

“I hope you’ll be bold tonight, dear,” she continues, deliberately slow. “A handsome boy like you deserves a good match. You should consider accepting a crown, let everyone know you’re open to courting.”

There’s a brief silence, thick and heavy, before Namjoon clears his throat. “Jungkook’s still adjusting to the village,” he says smoothly. “I don’t think he needs to rush into anything.”

Seokjin hums, arms crossed. “Besides, accepting a courting is a big decision. He should take his time.”

“Exactly,” Hoseok adds, a too-bright smile on his face. “No need to overwhelm him with… too many options.”

Yoongi scoffs, arms tucked into the sleeves of his robe. “Not like he needs random alphas swarming him anyway.”

Jimin, still holding Jungkook’s hand, gives a tight-lipped smile. “We’ll make sure he enjoys the festival without any unnecessary distractions.”

Taehyung tilts his head, lips pursed. “Mmm. No need to rush, right, Jungkookie?” His fingers squeeze Jungkook’s wrist lightly, as if emphasizing the point.

Jungkook looks between them, confused. Weren’t they all just encouraging him to enjoy the festival? He doesn’t quite understand their sudden shift, but Halmeoni just chuckles, clearly entertained looking at them.

“Ah, I see,” she hums knowingly. “Well, Jungkook, dear, if you do decide to accept a flower crown, make sure you choose wisely. You wouldn’t want to pick the wrong alpha, would you dear?”

Jungkook swallows hard, feeling the weight of his hyungs’ stares. He has no idea what just happened, but one thing is clear—none of them seem particularly happy with Halmeoni’s suggestion.

Halmeoni hands them their food with a warm smile, and they make their way to one of the round tables set up in the heart of the village. The lanterns cast a golden glow over the bustling festival, the air rich with the scent of grilled meats and sweet pastries.

Jimin and Taehyung immediately claim the seats beside Jungkook, pressing close as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Their shared warmth seeps through the layers of his robes, grounding him in the moment. Around them, the village hums with life—soft chatter, the clinking of dishes, and bursts of laughter from nearby tables blending seamlessly with the distant melody of festival music.

Suddenly, Jungkook is attacked by two small frames. He turns around and finds Yuna and Yunho—the two pups he had met at the market while spending the day with Namjoon. Both of them beam at having found him, their little hands immediately grabbing at his robes with excitement.

“Jungkook-oppa! You’re wearing pink!” Yuna exclaims, tugging at the flowing fabric. “I like pink!”

“And your ribbons!” Yunho adds, reaching up to touch one of them with fascination. “So pretty!”

Jungkook smiles, warmth filling his chest. “You think so?”

Both pups nod enthusiastically before bombarding him with rapid-fire questions, much like they had the other day.

“Are you still hurt?”
“Do you like our outfits?”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Will you get a pretty flower crown?”
“Will you be courted tonight?”

Jungkook barely has time to react before the last two questions sink in. His face flushes instantly. “Wha—?”

The table goes eerily quiet. He doesn’t even have to look to know his hyungs are listening. The silence is almost deafening, save for the distant festival music and the occasional clatter of dishes around them.

Jimin, still holding his spoon, tilts his head. “That’s a lot of questions, isn’t it?” His voice is sweet, but there’s something pointed behind it.

Taehyung hums in agreement, resting his chin on his palm. “Mmm. But now that they mention it… will you be courted tonight, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook gapes at them, betrayed. “Hyung!”

Seokjin clears his throat. “No need to pressure him, pups. Jungkook can decide on his own.”

Namjoon’s gaze is unreadable, but his grip on his chopsticks tightens slightly. “Exactly. There’s no rush.”

Hoseok just smiles—too brightly, too knowingly. “But I am curious… do you think you’ll accept a crown, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook stares at them, at a complete loss. Yuna and Yunho blink up at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. His face burns hotter, and he suddenly wishes the ground would just swallow him whole.

Before Jungkook can even think of how to respond, Yuna and Yunho press on, their tiny voices brimming with excitement.

“Our cousin is an alpha!” Yunho exclaims proudly, bouncing on his heels. “He’s really strong and super handsome!”

Yuna nods enthusiastically. “You should kiss him!”

Jungkook freezes, eyes going wide. The pups clearly don’t understand the weight of their words, their suggestion as innocent as if they had told him to share a cookie. But that doesn’t stop the heat from rushing to his face.

“K-Kiss?” he stammers, utterly lost.

“No,” Jimin cuts in immediately, voice firm as he wraps an arm around Jungkook’s waist. “Jungkook won’t be kissing anyone tonight.”

“Especially not an alpha,” Taehyung adds, nose scrunching as if the idea is offensive. He tugs Jungkook’s sleeve as if to shield him from the very thought.

The table goes unnervingly quiet.

Jungkook risks a glance around and finds his hyungs all suddenly very interested in their food—but their tense shoulders and clenched jaws betray them. Namjoon’s grip tightens around his chopsticks, Yoongi’s gaze is fixed on his bowl as if it holds the secrets of the universe, and even Seokjin and Hoseok—usually so quick to tease—look oddly stiff.

The pups, oblivious to the shift in atmosphere, have already lost interest. Their attention must have been caught by someone else, because before Jungkook can even process what just happened, they’re squealing and running toward another table, their earlier words still ringing in his ears.

Jungkook exhales, his fingers fiddling with the edge of his sleeve. He doesn’t understand why his hyungs reacted so strongly—but for some reason, he feels the strangest, unspoken tension settle over them, thick and lingering.

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers absently toying with the fabric of his sleeves. He doesn’t understand why this whole flower crown event is making his hyungs act so strangely. Should he not participate? Would they prefer if he didn’t? They haven’t outright said anything against it, but something in their behavior feels… off.

Even their scents seem wrong.

It’s subtle, but he’s noticed it since they ran into Kyungmin. There’s an edge to them, a quiet tension laced beneath the usual warmth. It’s not overwhelming, but it’s there—lingering in the air like an unsettled storm. Trying to push the thoughts aside, Jungkook focuses on the conversation at the table. The hyungs are discussing what they should do next, their tones casual but their postures still strangely stiff.

“We could check out the market stalls,” Hoseok suggests, but Seokjin shakes his head.

“The best things are already sold out. We should dance instead,” he says, smirking slightly as he takes a sip of his drink.

Jungkook perks up at that. “Dancing?”

“Of course,” Jimin grins, nudging him lightly. “It wouldn’t be a festival without it.”

Jungkook’s stomach flutters with both nerves and excitement. He’s never danced before—not at an event like this. The idea of being on the dance floor, surrounded by swirling fabrics and soft lantern light, is both thrilling and terrifying.

Namjoon, ever perceptive, catches his hesitation. “We can sit by the edge of the dance floor for a bit,” he offers. “You can watch first, see how it’s done.”

Jungkook nods, relieved. “Okay.”

They finish eating, and the group makes their way toward the dance floor, settling onto one of the benches at the edge. The music is lively, the movements of the dancers elegant yet free, bodies swaying effortlessly in sync with one another. Jungkook watches, mesmerized, the nervous energy inside him shifting into something closer to anticipation.

Maybe… maybe he could dance. Maybe if he asked one of his hyungs, they would guide him through it. Just as he begins to gather his courage, preparing to ask—

“Jungkook.”

A familiar voice interrupts his thoughts, smooth and confident.

Kyungmin.

Jungkook turns, blinking as the alpha steps forward, a teasing smirk on his lips. “May I have this dance?” Kyungmin asks, holding out a hand. Then, as if deliberately making things worse, he winks.

Jungkook freezes.

For a moment, he sits there, unsure of how to react. His mind stumbles over itself, caught between his own hesitation and the weight of the attention suddenly on him. His instinctive response isn’t to answer Kyungmin but to glance at his hyungs, seeking silent permission.

The shift in their energy is instantaneous.

Namjoon’s posture, which had been relaxed just moments ago, stiffens, his fingers pressing slightly harder against his knees. Yoongi’s eyes darken, his gaze sharp as it flickers between Kyungmin’s outstretched hand and Jungkook.

Jimin and Taehyung are no longer leaning comfortably against him—instead, their backs are straight, their hands suddenly gripping their robes a little too tightly. Hoseok tilts his head slightly, his usual easy-going expression unreadable, and Seokjin… well, Seokjin just stares at Kyungmin with the unimpressed look of someone who has just tasted something sour.

Jungkook swallows, his hand hovering slightly over his lap. He had only looked at them for reassurance, for some indication of whether this was okay. But now, he isn’t sure if he should have. Jungkook hesitates, fingers twitching slightly in his lap. He still isn’t sure what the right choice is—why he even feels like he needs permission to make one.

As if sensing his unease, Namjoon exhales through his nose, shoulders still visibly tense, but his voice remains steady when he finally speaks.

“It’s your choice, Jungkook-ah,” he says, his tone carefully neutral. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Jungkook bites his lip. Does he want to?

He’s never danced before, and the thought of doing so with someone unfamiliar makes him nervous. But at the same time… he wants to try.

So, after a beat of hesitation, he extends his hand toward Kyungmin, allowing the alpha to take it. Kyungmin’s fingers close around his own, warm and steady, before gently leading him toward the dance floor.

The music is slow, a deep, rhythmic melody thrumming through the air. The dancers around them are close—intimately so—bodies swaying together in time with the soft flicker of lantern light. Jungkook feels his heartbeat pick up as Kyungmin turns to face him.

“Hands around my neck,” Kyungmin instructs, voice low but easygoing. “I’ll lead.”

Jungkook hesitates only for a moment before lifting his arms, loosely draping them over Kyungmin’s shoulders. The alpha’s hands settle gently on his waist—not too firm, not too light, just enough to guide him.

It’s… nice.

Nicer than he expected.

The movement is slow and deliberate, the warmth of another body so close making Jungkook’s skin prickle with awareness. He isn’t sure if he’s doing it right, but Kyungmin doesn’t correct him, simply swaying them to the music with practiced ease.

Then, Kyungmin glances down at him with a smirk. “So… did it work?”

Jungkook blinks, confused. “Did what work?”

Kyungmin tilts his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Did it make them jealous?”

Jungkook stiffens slightly. “What?”

Kyungmin huffs a laugh, shifting them slightly in time with the music. “Come on, Jungkook. They like you” His grip on Jungkook’s waist is firm but still respectful. “I just wanted to see if a little push would get them to react.”

Jungkook’s lips part in shock. “You—” He stares, trying to process Kyungmin’s words. “You wanted them to be jealous? Over me?”

Kyungmin grins. “Of course over you. I wanted to see if they would be. Help you out a bit.”

Jungkook swallows, his mind spinning. His hyungs aren’t jealous. Kyungmin hums, his grip steady as he guides Jungkook through the slow steps. His expression is relaxed, but his eyes are sharp—observant.

“You like them,” he says simply, like it’s an undeniable fact.

Jungkook stumbles slightly, heat crawling up his neck. “I—what? No, I don’t—”

Kyungmin raises a brow, clearly unimpressed by his weak protest. “Jungkook,” he says, voice gentler this time. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to argue again but finds that he can’t. Because—because what is he even arguing? That he doesn’t like them? That would be a lie.

“I don’t even really know what I feel, but it’s not like that” he finally mutters, dropping his gaze to where his fingers rest lightly against Kyungmin’s shoulders. “I’ve never… felt like this before. I can’t compare. They’re just being friendly.”

Kyungmin watches him for a moment before his grip shifts slightly. “Okay,” he says, tone easy. “Then let’s compare now. How do you feel when I touch you?”

Jungkook frowns, confused by the question. “It just feels… normal?” He tilts his head, brows knitting together. “Like any other touch?”

Kyungmin nods as if he expected that answer. “Alright. And what about them?” His voice lowers slightly, gaze intent. “How do you feel when they touch you? When they talk to you? Look at you?”

Jungkook parts his lips, ready to answer easily—but then he hesitates.

Because the truth is—

His hyungs do make him feel different.

His fingers curl slightly where they rest against Kyungmin’s shoulders, a flush creeping up his skin. “I—” He ducks his head, suddenly unable to meet Kyungmin’s gaze. “It’s… different.”

Kyungmin’s lips curl at the edges. “Different how?”

Jungkook swallows, heart beating too fast. “I don’t know.” He shakes his head, frustrated by his own lack of understanding. “It just—it makes my stomach feel weird. And I can’t—” He hesitates, voice dropping lower. “I can’t keep eye contact for too long. I always get flustered.”

Kyungmin lets out a soft laugh, amused but not unkind. “Jungkook,” he says, giving him a knowing look. “That’s what liking someone feels like.”

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, heart stuttering.

Oh.

Jungkook shakes his head, lips pressing into a thin line. “That doesn’t make sense,” he says, voice quieter than before. “But it would be wrong. They’re mated to each other. They already have each other.” 

Kyungmin sighs, tilting his head. “Jungkook,” he says patiently, “shifter bonds don’t work the same way human ones do. It’s common to have large mating groups, to add people over time.” His eyes soften. “They weren’t always six, you know.”

Jungkook’s breath catches. “They… weren’t?”

Kyungmin shakes his head. “No. Bonds grow. Packs grow. You think love is this rigid thing that never changes, but that’s not how it works. Especially for shifters.” His grip on Jungkook’s waist tightens briefly, grounding him. “And I’m telling you, as a shifter, as someone outside of this— They like you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook shakes his head again, more forcefully this time. “No, they don’t.” His stomach twists. “They care about me, sure, but they’re just—just kind. They would do the same for anyone.”

Kyungmin scoffs. “Would they?” His voice is laced with amusement. “Would they be this protective? Would they glare at every person who so much as looks at you? Would they act like the flower crown ceremony is the end of the damn world?”

Jungkook falters, his throat suddenly dry.

“That’s not—”

Kyungmin watches him, sharp-eyed. “Maybe it’s not love yet,” he says, tilting his head. “But they don’t treat you the way they treat others.”

Jungkook’s stomach flutters, but he can’t tell if it’s the music, the closeness, or the overwhelming tension in the air. Kyungmin’s words are like a match to dry kindling, setting something inside him on fire, and Jungkook suddenly realizes that Kyungmin knows exactly what he’s doing.

Kyungmin only smiles, the smirk playful but still full of knowing. “I think your hyungs are all still in the denial stage,” he says, voice low, yet with a teasing edge. “All of them, Jungkook. And maybe we should help them realize what they’re missing.”

Jungkook blinks up at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

Kyungmin doesn’t respond with words immediately. Instead, he pulls Jungkook closer, following the slow rhythm of the song, guiding him into a delicate twirl before pulling him in even tighter, chest to chest. The music swells around them, but all Jungkook can focus on is Kyungmin’s touch, how his hand rests gently on the small of his back.

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” Kyungmin says quickly, his voice smooth and reassuring, though there’s a hint of something else in his tone, like a challenge. “I’ll stop, don’t worry. I prefer women anyway,” he adds, the words coming out with an easy nonchalance. He presses them closer still, making sure to be seen by the others at the edge of the dance floor..

“Place your hands tighter around my neck,” Kyungmin says, his tone teasing but gentle. “We’ll sway like this for a minute. Make them suffer a little and then we’ll head back.”

Jungkook, still unsure of everything, hesitates. But as the rhythm of the music pulls them closer and the world seems to disappear around them, he lets his hands rise, slowly, cautiously, until they rest on Kyungmin’s neck tighter, feeling the warmth of his skin.

The beat of the song wraps around them, and Jungkook tries to focus on the music, on Kyungmin’s reassuring smile, but his mind is racing. 

As they sway in silence, Jungkook can’t help but glance over at his hyungs. The tension is thick, but none of them have moved closer. In fact, they’re all watching from the distance, eyes fixed on him and Kyungmin, their gazes too intense to ignore. Jungkook swallows, trying to push away the uneasy feeling twisting in his stomach.

As Kyungmin spins Jungkook back toward the edge of the dance floor, his hand lingering just a moment too long on Jungkook’s back, the atmosphere seems to shift. Jungkook’s heart is still racing, the adrenaline of the dance still making him feel warm, yet now there's a strange heaviness in the air.

Kyungmin smiles at him, his eyes glinting with something playful and teasing before he leans down and kisses the back of Jungkook’s hand. The touch is quick, but it feels too intimate, and Jungkook pulls his hand back, his cheeks burning with a blush.

“Thank you for the dance, Kook-ah,” Kyungmin says smoothly, his voice warm as he winks at him before turning to disappear into the crowd.

Jungkook watches him go, still processing everything that just happened, his mind spinning with confusion.

Notes:

Heyy!! ✨💖

Ughhh, I swear, I wish I could steal their outfits for myself!! 😩💞

And omg, the little hints of jealousy??? 🤌🔥 I LIVE for it!! Jealousy in real life? Absolutely not. 🚫 But jealousy in fictional men? Now that’s entertainment. 😏🔥

Also, can we take a moment to APPRECIATE my boy Kyungmin??? 🙌😭 He’s out here putting in overtime, carrying this whole realization arc on his BACK!! 💪😤 Someone give him a raise, fr!! 😂👏

And Halmeoni?? Ohhh, she’s BEEN knowing since day one!! 💀👵 She’s probably watching them struggle like, “I am too old for this nonsense.”😤🤣 I just KNOW she’s tired of their cluelessness and is counting the days until they finally GET IT!! 😂

Hope y’all have an amazing weekend!! 💖🌸✨ Enjoy, rest up, and manifest good vibes!! 😘💫

Chapter 28: Crowned Heart

Summary:

The Moon Festival continues !

The moment Kyungmin disappears from view, Jungkook feels the shift in the air, thick and almost tangible. The lighthearted atmosphere from earlier dims slightly, replaced by something quieter, heavier.

All eyes are on him now.

His hyungs don’t say anything at first, but the weight of their gazes presses against his skin, making it feel a little too tight. They’re watching him, their expressions unreadable, but their scents give them away—a mix of protectiveness and something else, something darker that lingers just beneath the surface.  

Jimin is the first to break the silence, his voice bright but carrying a thread of tension that Jungkook catches right away. “Well, that was, uh… interesting,” he says, forcing a small, somewhat awkward smile. His words sound casual enough, but his hands fidget with the sleeve of his robe, his fingers twisting the fabric—a telltale sign of unease. “Kyungmin seemed pretty fond of you, ‘Kook-ah.’”  

Jungkook swallows, unsure how to respond. He doesn’t miss the way Jimin avoids his eyes just a little, as if he’s trying to make the words sound lighter than they feel.  

Beside him, Taehyung lets out a quiet breath, his gaze fixed on the dance floor like he’s searching for something to focus on. “Yeah, ‘fond’ is one way to put it,” he mutters, his voice light, but his posture tells a different story. His fingers tap restlessly against his thigh, his jaw tensing slightly before he finally glances at Jungkook. There’s something else in his eyes, something Jungkook can’t quite place—something that flickers too quickly for him to catch.  

Then Namjoon steps forward.  

Jungkook barely has time to react before the pack alpha is in front of him, his tall frame casting a shadow over him. There’s nothing overtly intimidating about his stance—his shoulders are relaxed, his expression carefully neutral—but there’s a quiet intensity in the way he looks at Jungkook, like he’s seeing something he doesn’t quite know how to name.  

“That was a nice dance,” Namjoon finally says, his tone calm, measured in a way that makes Jungkook’s stomach twist. He pauses, then tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes searching Jungkook’s face. “But, uh… are you okay? He seemed a little… familiar with you.”  

The question lands heavier than it should, settling deep in Jungkook’s chest. He knows Namjoon isn’t just asking about the dance—there’s something else laced within those words, something unspoken but obvious.  

Before he can answer, Hoseok lets out a warm laugh, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I mean, it’s fine. You can dance with whoever you want.” His smile is quick, practiced, but his gaze lingers on Jungkook just a little too long. There’s a flicker of something controlled in his expression. “It’s no big deal,” he adds, glancing away as if trying to dismiss whatever feeling is sitting just beneath the surface.  

Seokjin, who has been silent up until now, finally speaks, his voice smooth, deliberate. “It was just a dance, after all.” He smiles at Jungkook, his usual warmth present, but there’s an intensity in his gaze that doesn’t fade. “You’re allowed to have fun and dance with anyone, Jungkookie. It’s no problem.” He shifts slightly, as if trying to ease whatever tension lingers, but his eyes still hold onto Jungkook like they’re searching for something—like he’s looking for reassurance he doesn’t want to ask for.  

Jungkook glances between them, feeling the weight of their words, their scents, their presence all pressing in around him. Their voices are casual, their expressions controlled, but he can feel it. The air between them hums with something unsaid, something they’re all trying too hard to bury beneath lighthearted words and easy smiles.  

“I—” Jungkook starts, but the words falter in his throat when he sees the way they’re looking at him. They aren’t angry—not at him, at least—but there’s something else in their eyes, something softer yet heavier. Something Jungkook doesn’t know how to name.  

Jimin exhales quietly, his fingers stilling against his sleeve. “It’s alright, Kookie,” he says, his voice gentler this time. “You’re allowed to have fun. We’re just, uh… making sure you’re okay.”  

Taehyung nods slightly, shifting on his feet. “Yeah,” he echoes, his voice lighter now, though there’s still something in his posture that doesn’t quite relax. “It’s just… Kyungmin can be a little… forward sometimes.” He tries for a smile, but there’s an edge to it, something that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.  

Seokjin chuckles, shaking his head slightly. “We just didn’t expect him to get so close to you, is all,” he says, his voice easy, light. “But it’s fine. It’s just a dance, after all.”  

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest, the warmth in their voices at odds with the underlying tension still thick in the air. He knows they mean well, knows they aren’t upset with him, but he also knows that they aren’t as unaffected as they want him to believe.  

“I—I’m okay,” he finally manages, his voice steady despite the way his pulse flutters. “It was just a dance, nothing more.”  

Namjoon steps closer, his presence grounding, reassuring despite the tension still crackling between them. “We just want you to feel safe and comfortable, Kook-ah,” he says, his voice low, gentle. “You don’t have to explain anything to us. We just care about you.”  

Hoseok gives a small laugh, and this time it sounds a little more genuine. “You’re always welcome to talk to us about anything, Kookie,” he says, his smile softening, more real. “We’re just looking out for you, that’s all.”  

Jungkook exhales slowly, his chest loosening slightly at their words. He doesn’t know what exactly is going on with his hyungs, doesn’t fully understand the strange undercurrent beneath their concern, but he knows one thing for sure—they care. They care so much that they don’t even know how to hide it properly.  

And for now, that’s enough.  

He takes a deep breath, grounding himself in the warmth of their presence, and offers them a small smile in return. He hopes it’s enough to ease whatever it is they’re feeling. He hopes they’ll be okay with him.

Jungkook's heart flutters nervously in his chest as he shyly glances up at his hyungs, his words quiet but genuine. “I... I liked dancing, but I think I’d feel more comfortable dancing with you guys,” he murmurs, his fingers nervously twisting together in his lap. “Is there anyone who would... like to dance with me?”

The hyungs exchange surprised looks, their eyes flicking from one another to Jungkook. The quiet tension between them is palpable, a mix of uncertainty and something more intense. Then, almost as if in unison, they all turn their gaze back to him, a strange but soft understanding in their expressions.

“You should dance with Hoseok-hyung,” Taehyung suggests after a moment, his voice light but there’s a glint of something else in his eyes, something Jungkook can’t quite place. “He’s the best dancer here.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly, his heart picking up its pace at the thought. He turns to Hoseok, feeling a wave of nervousness and excitement wash over him. He’s never danced with Hoseok before, but there’s something about him that makes Jungkook feel safe. “H-Hoseok hyung,” he starts shyly, his voice soft, “would you... like to dance with me?”

Hoseok’s scent spikes sharply, a rush of warmth and something else—something deeper, almost instinctive—that makes Jungkook’s breath stutter. It fills his lungs before he can stop it, wrapping around him like the embrace of something untamed yet achingly familiar. The beta stands suddenly, his movements swift and almost involuntary, as if some unseen force has pulled him to his feet before he even registers the action himself.

Jungkook barely has time to react before Hoseok’s gaze locks onto him, lingering with an intensity that sends an unexpected shiver down his spine. There’s something in his expression, something raw and searching, and Jungkook feels frozen beneath it, caught in the weight of something he doesn’t quite understand.

Then, with a quiet inhale, Hoseok reaches for him.

The touch is gentle, fingers brushing against his hand before curling around it fully—warm, steady, deliberate. Jungkook’s breath catches. Hoseok’s palm against his own is solid, grounding, and there’s an unspoken question in the way he holds him, as if waiting for Jungkook to pull away.

But he doesn’t.

He lets Hoseok lead him, lets the warmth of his touch seep through the cracks of his hesitation, lets himself be drawn into the soft glow of the festival lights and the gentle hum of the music that swirls in the cool night air.

Jungkook places his hands around Hoseok’s neck the way Kyungmin had shown him, but the moment his fingers settle against the warmth of his skin, he realizes—this is different. This isn't the lighthearted playfulness from earlier. Hoseok’s presence is a steady weight against him, his body warm and solid, his scent a quiet hum of something reassuring yet... charged.

Hoseok’s hands find his waist, not hesitant, but careful. The pressure is light at first, but enough to hold him in place, enough to make Jungkook aware of every point of contact between them. His chest tightens. Hoseok looks down at him, his gaze softer now, but still tinged with something unspoken. His fingers flex slightly, as if fighting the urge to hold him closer.

“Is this okay?” Hoseok asks, his voice quiet but firm, low enough that Jungkook feels it more than hears it.

Jungkook swallows, heart thudding against his ribs. His skin feels hot, his pulse too fast, but when he looks up and meets Hoseok’s eyes, something in him steadies. “It’s… it’s okay,” he murmurs, barely louder than a breath. Hoseok nods, his lips twitching into something small, something almost relieved, before he begins to move.

The music flows around them, slow and melodic, and Jungkook follows without thinking, letting his body move with Hoseok’s. The rhythm is easy, but there’s a tension beneath it, something thrumming between them, tightening with each second that passes.

Jungkook’s heart races. He feels it in the way Hoseok’s grip lingers just a second too long when they shift, in the way his thumb brushes absentmindedly over the fabric of his robes, in the way his scent seems to thicken in the air around them.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to do with the feeling curling deep in his chest, so instead, he focuses on the dance. But then he sees it—Hoseok’s gaze flickering. Not away, but down. Jungkook’s stomach flips. His fingers tighten slightly where they rest at the base of Hoseok’s neck, and he wonders, suddenly, if Hoseok can feel how fast his heart is beating beneath his skin.

The tension pulls tighter.

Jungkook knows he has to say something. The weight of the moment is pressing against him, thick with things unsaid, and he doesn’t want Hoseok to misunderstand. He doesn’t want his hyung to think there’s something between him and Kyungmin. That isn’t what this is.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says softly, the word slipping past his lips before he can stop it.

Hoseok blinks, his grip on Jungkook’s waist shifting, as if grounding himself. “Yeah?”

Jungkook takes a steadying breath, tilting his head up slightly. “Kyungmin… he’s just a friend,” he says, voice quiet but firm. “I just wanted you to know that.”

For a moment, Hoseok doesn’t react. His face remains unreadable, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and something else—something careful. Then, after a beat, his grip tightens. Not harsh. Not possessive. But something protective. Something reassuring.

“It’s okay, Kook-ah,” Hoseok murmurs. His voice is steady, but there’s something softer beneath it, something that makes Jungkook’s chest feel too tight. “It’s alright for you to develop feelings for someone here, if that’s what you’re feeling.”

Jungkook stiffens.

No. That’s not what he meant.

This isn’t about Kyungmin. It’s about something else—something more confusing, something terrifying in the way it twists deep in his ribs whenever he’s close to his hyungs. His mouth feels dry, but he forces himself to hold Hoseok’s gaze. “I don’t like him hyung,” he says, firmer this time. “I’m not interested in him.”

The words linger in the space between them. Jungkook can feel the weight of them, the honesty in them, the way they settle between them like something fragile yet undeniably real. Hoseok stares at him for a moment longer, his expression intense, before something shifts.

His shoulders relax. His lips part slightly, as if he wants to say something, but instead, he lifts a hand—fingers brushing against Jungkook’s cheek before tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

Jungkook freezes.

“That’s good,” Hoseok murmurs, his voice low, almost hushed.

Jungkook swears his heart stops.

The space between them feels impossibly small, like a single breath could pull them even closer. Hoseok’s scent is thick in the air, warm and familiar, and Jungkook feels dizzy from it, from him, from the way his touch lingers just a second too long.

Jungkook looks away quickly, his cheeks burning. “I… I’m sorry, hyung,” he stammers, his voice unsteady. “I just didn’t want you to think—”

“Shh.” The sound is barely audible, but it silences Jungkook instantly.

Hoseok’s grip on him is steady, warm, and Jungkook swears he can feel the slight tremor in his fingertips when they brush against his waist again.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Hoseok says, his voice softer than before. “You’re allowed to feel things, pup.”

Jungkook swallows hard, his breath uneven. The music continues around them, but all he can focus on is the press of Hoseok’s hands against his waist, the warmth of his breath so close to his skin, the unspoken words that hang between them.

Then, just when Jungkook thinks the tension might be too much, Hoseok smiles—small, barely-there, but enough to ease the tightness in Jungkook’s chest.

“You look so beautiful tonight, Jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers twitching where they rest against Hoseok’s nape.

“I mean it,” Hoseok continues, his gaze soft but unwavering. “We all care about you. I care about you.”

Jungkook’s throat tightens. He wants to believe him, wants to let himself hold onto those words, but the emotions swirling inside him are too much, too overwhelming. But then Hoseok presses lightly against the small of his back, grounding him.

Jungkook exhales.

“I… I care about you too, hyung,” he whispers.

Hoseok’s smile deepens, and for the first time that night, Jungkook lets himself sink into it.

As the song draws to a close, the last lingering notes fading into the cool night air, Jungkook finds himself reluctant to step away. Hoseok’s hands remain steady on his waist for a moment longer than necessary, as if neither of them is quite ready to break the fragile spell woven between them. Jungkook swallows, his heart still racing, and finally, hesitantly, he lowers his arms from around Hoseok’s neck.  

Hoseok steps back just slightly, but his warmth still lingers, his scent wrapping around Jungkook like a comforting embrace. His lips curve into a gentle smile, one that makes something flutter deep in Jungkook’s chest. “You did really well,” Hoseok murmurs, his voice carrying over the festival sounds, soft and sincere.  

Jungkook ducks his head, biting his lip, his face still warm. “Thank you, hyung,” he says shyly, his fingers twitching at his sides before he clenches them into small fists, trying to ground himself.  

Hoseok’s smile lingers as he tilts his head toward the others. “Come on, let’s go back before they start teasing us.”  

Jungkook huffs a small laugh, but he nods, letting Hoseok guide him through the crowd. The sounds of the festival return in full force as they make their way back—laughter, music, the distant chatter of voices—but Jungkook barely notices. His skin still tingles where Hoseok had held him, and his mind replays those last words over and over.  

As they approach, it’s clear the others had been watching. Jimin and Taehyung exchange a look before both omegas break into identical, knowing grins. Taehyung is the first to move, leaning in close to Jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So… did you two enjoy yourselves?” he sing-songs, his voice teasing.  

Jungkook groans, his face immediately heating up again. “Hyung—”  

Jimin giggles, looping an arm around Jungkook’s. “Oh, you’re blushing, Kook. That’s adorable.”  

Jungkook whines, burying his face in his hands while the others laugh. But even through his embarrassment, there’s a small, undeniable warmth curling in his chest.

"You two were adorable out there," Jimin says with a teasing grin. "Everyone was watching you."

Taehyung nods eagerly. "Yes, you looked like you were meant to dance together."

Jungkook feels the heat rise in his cheeks, a soft blush spreading across his face. He looks down, his heart still fluttering from the dance, unsure of how to respond to their comments. He tries to smile, a little shyly, and turns to Hoseok. "Thank you, hyung, for dancing with me," he says quietly.

Hoseok’s smile is warm, but there’s something in the way his eyes linger on Jungkook that makes Jungkook’s heart skip a beat. “You’re welcome, Kook-ah,” Hoseok replies, his voice gentle. He places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder before stepping back, letting the others take over.

Seokjin calls his attention next. "It’s almost time for the flower crown ceremony," Jin says, a glint of excitement in his voice. "If you still want to join, we can head over now."

Jungkook hesitates for a moment. The thought of participating in something so public, especially with so many eyes on him, makes him nervous. But the idea of wearing the flower crown and being part of something so important to the pack feels like something he can’t pass up.

"I want to," Jungkook says, determination softening the nerves in his voice.

The betas exchange glances, and though they still seem unsure, they smile and start leading him toward the clearing where the ceremony will be held. The village is already starting to gather, and the soft glow of the lanterns hanging from the trees gives the entire area a peaceful, almost magical feel.

As they arrive at the clearing, Jungkook feels the energy shift around him. The festival’s lively chatter fades into something quieter as the unmated shifters gather in anticipation of the ceremony. The air is thick with the mingling scents of flowers, lantern smoke, and the faint spice of incense burning somewhere nearby. The golden glow of the hanging lanterns casts flickering shadows across the clearing, making everything feel almost dreamlike, surreal.  

Yoongi steps in closer, his presence steady and grounding beside Jungkook. Without a word, he reaches for his hand, his fingers warm and firm as they intertwine with Jungkook’s. The touch sends a small, unexpected shiver down Jungkook’s spine, and his breath catches, his heart stuttering in his chest. But he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he lets his fingers curl around Yoongi’s, holding onto the warmth, the reassurance.  

Yoongi’s eyes meet his, steady and unwavering. There’s something calm in his gaze, something that soothes the nervous flutter in Jungkook’s stomach. “Come on,” Yoongi murmurs, his voice low and sure, carrying easily over the hushed atmosphere. “I’ll take you.”  

Jungkook swallows hard, nodding once, though his throat feels tight. The weight of the moment settles over him—not just the ceremony itself, but Yoongi’s presence, the quiet intimacy of his touch. It makes his pulse race in a way he doesn’t fully understand.  

As they step forward, weaving through the gathered crowd, Jungkook stays close to Yoongi, drawn to the steady warmth of his presence. He barely notices the way the villagers turn to watch, their eyes filled with curiosity and quiet approval. The attention should unnerve him, but all he can focus on is the way Yoongi’s thumb brushes idly against his skin as they walk, a silent promise of reassurance.  

When they finally reach the center of the clearing where the elders wait, Yoongi stops. For a lingering second, he holds Jungkook’s hand a moment longer before finally letting go—but not before giving it one last, deliberate squeeze. The absence of his touch is almost startling, leaving a faint, lingering warmth against Jungkook’s skin.  

Yoongi leans in slightly, his voice dropping to something even softer, something just for Jungkook to hear. “Have fun, okay?” His tone is gentle, but there’s an underlying warmth to it, something deeper. Something protective.  

Jungkook barely has time to react before Yoongi’s fingers brush against his cheek, feather-light and fleeting, but enough to send another shiver down his spine. His breath hitches, eyes widening slightly, but before he can say anything—before he can fully process the way his heart is hammering in his chest—Yoongi is already stepping back.  

Jungkook watches as he turns and disappears into the crowd, the glow of the lanterns catching in his dark hair, casting golden reflections against his pale skin. The space Yoongi leaves behind feels strangely empty, and Jungkook suddenly realizes that his fingers are still curled slightly, as if reluctant to let go of the touch that’s no longer there.  

The ceremony is about to begin, but his heart is still racing for an entirely different reason.

Jungkook is left standing with a group of unmated shifters. They’re all looking at him with friendly smiles, and he can sense their curiosity and excitement. Some of them are younger than him, others closer to his age, and he feels a mix of nervousness and anticipation as they all wait for the ceremony to begin.

Even though there are so many people around, Jungkook can’t shake the feeling that the others—his hyungs—are still watching him closely, their gazes full of something he can’t quite read. The tension from earlier is still there, hanging in the air like an unspoken promise.

The circle of unmated shifters stands in the center of the clearing, all of them gathered with quiet anticipation. The soft glow of the lanterns flickers in the trees, casting a gentle, warm light on the faces of those who have come to witness the ceremony. There’s an air of excitement, and despite his nervousness, Jungkook feels a sense of belonging among them. The chatter among the villagers starts to die down as they all turn their attention toward the elders.

Halmeoni, standing in front of the gathered crowd, clears her throat softly, and the chatter fades completely. She stands tall, her presence commanding respect, but there’s a gentleness to her smile that puts everyone at ease. Her eyes scan the gathered crowd for a moment, then she begins her speech.

"Welcome, everyone," Halmeoni’s voice rings out, clear and steady, carrying through the clearing. "Welcome to this year’s Moon Festival Flower Crown Ceremony. Tonight, we come together to honor the blessings of the moon goddess and celebrate our community."

The villagers stand still, eyes focused on the eldest of the pack as she continues with her words. Jungkook, though nervous, listens closely, his attention on the ceremony unfolding.

"Tonight," she continues, "the unmated who are willing to make their status known have gathered in this circle. Each of you has chosen to take part in this beautiful tradition, and by doing so, you will receive a flower crown, blessed by the moon goddess herself."

Jungkook shifts slightly, feeling the weight of the moment as Halmeoni’s words sink in. He looks around at the others in the circle—some of them shy, some with faces full of quiet resolve—and wonders if they feel the same nervous anticipation he does.

"Each flower crown will be different in color," Halmeoni explains, her tone soft yet wise, "and will be chosen by the unmated themselves, without looking. The colors are symbolic, though they are open to interpretation. Each of you may find meaning in the colors in your own way."

Jungkook feels a small sense of relief at this—perhaps the meaning behind the crown’s colors isn't rigid.

"After the ceremony," Halmeoni adds, her voice shifting with the slightest hint of playfulness, "those who feel drawn to others may make courting offers. If you wish to show your intentions, you are free to do so."

Jungkook feels his face flush at the mention of courting offers. He shifts uncomfortably, suddenly feeling more aware of his own feelings for the people around him. His gaze flicks briefly toward his hyungs, but they’re all looking at Halmeoni, their expressions focused.

"And with that," Halmeoni concludes, her voice warm, "I thank the moon goddess for blessing us with yet another beautiful festival."

The villagers murmur in agreement, and Jungkook stands still, his heart racing in his chest. He can’t help but think about the meaning of the flower crown, the significance of the colors, and the strange but undeniable tension that has been lingering in the air ever since they arrived.

The soft hum of music fills the air as the ceremony begins. The elders stand ready, each holding a wooden box filled with flower crowns, waiting for the unmated to choose their symbolic adornments. The gentle rustling of leaves and the warm glow of lanterns create an almost dreamlike atmosphere. The excitement in the air is palpable as the villagers watch, their murmurs quieting in anticipation.

One by one, the names are called, and each person steps forward to choose their flower crown. Jungkook watches, his nerves knotting in his stomach. The weight of the moment presses down on him, but he tries to calm his racing heart. The hyungs are all standing a little ways behind him but Jungkook feels their presence. He feels their eyes on him, though he does his best to ignore the fluttering sensation in his chest.

Finally, Halmeoni calls his name.

"Jungkook."

Jungkook freezes for a moment, then steps forward, his legs feeling heavy. He can feel the eyes of the villagers on him as he makes his way to the center of the circle. His heart beats faster, and he tries to steady his breath. Halmeoni smiles warmly at him, her gaze soft as always.

"I’m glad you’ve decided to participate, Jungkook," she says, her voice gentle. "Now, go ahead, close your eyes and choose your crown."

Jungkook nods, feeling his palms start to sweat. He’s never been good at choosing things like this. But he trusts in the process and closes his eyes, reaching out for the box in front of him. His fingers brush against the soft petals of the flowers, and he instinctively feels drawn to one. Slowly, he pulls it from the box, sensing the weight of the choice as he holds it in his hands.

"Open your eyes," Halmeoni says softly.

Jungkook does, and his breath catches in his throat.

The crown he holds is unlike any he’s seen before. It’s made of roses—deep, rich red roses. The petals are full and vibrant, almost like they glow with an inner warmth. The crown is larger than the others, the flowers arranged more densely, as if to make a statement. Jungkook is mesmerized by it. The red color feels almost... symbolic. He doesn’t understand why he’s drawn to it, but something deep inside him tells him it was meant for him.

Halmeoni smiles, a knowing glint in her eyes. "I had an inkling you’d choose the red crown," she says, her voice soft and pleased. "It’s the only one made out of roses. They're are hard to harvest, you know."

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat at her words, and he feels a warmth bloom in his chest. The red crown seems so... fitting, and yet, so unexpected. Halmeoni takes the crown from his hands and carefully places it on his head. It feels like a weight, but it’s a weight he’s willing to carry. The coolness of the flowers contrasts with the warmth of his skin, and he feels a quiet pride as the soft petals settle into his hair.

"You may go back now," Halmeoni says, her voice warm with approval.

Jungkook gives a small, shy smile and turns to head back to his place in the circle. As he walks back, he feels the eyes of the villagers on him, and though he doesn’t meet anyone’s gaze directly, he feels a strange sense of belonging. The flower crown, with its vibrant red roses, feels like more than just an accessory—it feels like a symbol, one he doesn’t yet understand fully but knows is important.

As the ceremony draws to a close, the air is filled with a mix of excitement and quiet anticipation. The final touches of the sunlight glisten against the flowers, and the villagers stand in a respectful hush as Halmeoni steps forward to give her concluding words.

"My dear ones," she begins, her voice warm and wise. "The ceremony has now come to an end. I wish you all good fortune and hope that the moon goddess watches over you as you take these steps toward the future. May your bonds be strong and your hearts full of love." She smiles at everyone, her gaze soft. "Happy future mating, my dear ones."

The gathered crowd murmurs their thanks, the warmth of the ceremony still lingering in the air. The moment feels weighty and peaceful, like the promise of something more just waiting to be discovered. After a final word of blessing, Halmeoni nods, signaling that the ceremony has concluded, and the villagers begin to disperse.

Jungkook, his heart still racing, quickly makes his way back toward his hyungs. His eyes meet theirs as they all watch him with expressions of admiration. A flush colors his cheeks as he nears them, and he feels a warm sense of pride bubbling up in his chest. He stops in front of them, not quite sure what to expect, but feeling the weight of their gazes on him.

"You look beautiful," Taehyung is the first to say, his voice gentle. His lips curve into a soft, admiring smile, and his wide, expressive eyes shimmer under the festival lights, filled with unguarded affection. There’s no teasing lilt to his voice, no playful edge—just sincerity, deep and unwavering, as he takes in the sight of the red flower crown resting delicately on his head.  

Jimin nods quickly, his gaze warm as he leans in slightly, eyes tracing over Jungkook’s features as if to commit this moment to memory. "Yeah, you really do," he agrees, his voice a touch softer than usual, a kind of fondness lingering in each syllable. "The crown suits you so well." There’s something in the way he says it, something that makes Jungkook’s stomach twist, makes his breath hitch. It isn’t just a casual compliment—it feels like something more, something deeper, something that wraps around his heart and squeezes.  

Jungkook’s cheeks burn under their attention, the weight of their gazes making him suddenly feel vulnerable in a way he isn’t sure how to handle. He ducks his head, his fingers instinctively reaching up to fidget with the flowers woven into his hair.

The petals are soft beneath his fingertips, fragile, and yet somehow they feel heavier now, as if they carry meaning he can’t quite grasp. He doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t know what to do with the warmth creeping up his throat, doesn’t know why the simple act of being seen, of being noticed, makes him feel so exposed.  

Then Namjoon steps closer.  

The shift in the air is subtle but unmistakable, the presence of the pack alpha washing over them like a steady, grounding force. Jungkook forces himself to look up, meeting Namjoon’s gaze just as the older man’s eyes settle on him. Namjoon isn’t smiling, instead, his focus lingers on the flower crown, his expression sharp as he takes it in. His lips part slightly, a quiet breath escaping, as if something about the sight of Jungkook like this catches him off guard.  

Finally, after a pause that stretches a beat too long, Namjoon speaks.  

"Red suits you."  

His voice is calm, steady, but there’s something else beneath it—something softer, something sincere in a way that makes Jungkook’s chest tighten. The words aren’t extravagant, they aren’t poetic, and yet somehow they strike deeper than they should, lodging themselves into the spaces between Jungkook’s ribs.  

His heart stumbles over itself, his breath catching in his throat as he meets Namjoon’s crimson gaze, searching for something—anything—that might explain the strange pull in his chest. But all he finds is warmth, quiet and unwavering, wrapping around him like the promise of safety, of belonging.  

The moment stretches, thick and heavy, and just when Jungkook thinks he might drown in it, Jimin breaks the silence with a teasing lilt to his voice.  

"The flowers are from Yoongi-hyung’s garden."  

Jungkook blinks, thrown off balance, the weight of his emotions colliding with the lighthearted revelation in a way that makes his pulse stutter. His gaze flickers toward Yoongi instinctively, but the alpha is standing just behind the others, arms crossed, expression unreadable. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, something quiet and deep, before he looks away, as if dismissing it entirely.  

Jungkook swallows thickly, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks again. He doesn’t know how to respond—doesn’t know if he’s supposed to respond at all. Everything feels like too much and not enough all at once. The red crown on his head, the warmth in his hyungs' gazes, the steady weight of Namjoon’s voice still lingering in his ears—it’s overwhelming in a way he isn’t used to.  

He shifts on his feet, trying to focus on the little things, the grounding details—the golden glow of the lanterns above them, the distant hum of music, the faint scent of wildflowers carried on the cool night breeze. He tells himself to breathe, to steady himself. But it’s hard when Taehyung and Jimin are still smiling at him like that, when Namjoon is still standing so close, when the flower crown feels heavier than it should.  

For a moment, everything feels still. The bustling crowd around them fades into the background, distant and insignificant compared to the quiet weight of this moment. Jungkook feels caught, suspended in the moment.  

He still isn’t used to gatherings like this—large, lively, filled with warmth—but he has to admit, it feels… nice. Safe. Familiar in a way he never thought he would get to experience.  

Namjoon stays close beside him, speaking in low tones with Seokjin and Hoseok, though every so often, Jungkook catches the way Namjoon’s gaze flickers toward him, brief but lingering, as if making sure he’s still okay. Yoongi, ever watchful, keeps his sharp eyes scanning the crowd, his posture tense. Taehyung and Jimin, meanwhile, are engaged in an animated discussion about the other flower crowns they’d seen earlier, their voices bubbling with excitement, light and easy.  

And Jungkook stands among them, his heart still racing, the red crown sitting atop his head like a promise he doesn’t yet understand.

Jungkook was listening, half-lost in the comfort of their conversation, when someone approached.

“Sungjae,” Seokjin greets first, his voice smooth, but there’s a deliberate pause in it, a measure of control, as though he’s already anticipating something. The tension lingers in the air, heavy but silent. Jungkook blinks, turning to see the alpha standing there, his posture relaxed, yet there's an undeniable confidence in the way he carries himself.

Sungjae. He’s someone Jungkook’s spoken to only briefly before—charming, in a way that draws people in without effort. He’s always carried this air of quiet authority, the type of presence that demands respect without being loud about it. But now, something about his expression seems different, something… more intent.

Sungjae’s gaze sweeps over the group before landing on Jungkook, and for a moment, Jungkook feels like he’s being weighed. “Would you mind if I borrowed Jungkook for a moment?” Sungjae’s words slip out smoothly, but they carry an undercurrent of something that sets Jungkook’s nerves on edge.

Borrowed him?

The silence stretches for a heartbeat, thick and heavy with unspoken questions. Jungkook feels it more than he hears it: the subtle shift in the atmosphere. It’s in the way Namjoon’s fingers twitch ever so slightly, like a barely perceptible warning signal. Yoongi’s gaze sharpens, his eyes narrowing ever so subtly, as though trying to read a hidden message between the lines of Sungjae’s words.

The others exchange glances, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the flicker of unease that crosses Hoseok’s usually easygoing expression, the way Taehyung’s eyes bounce back and forth between him and the alpha. Even Jimin, who usually wears his heart on his sleeve, presses his lips together, his features tight with a trace of concern.

“It’s up to Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon finally speaks, his voice calm, but Jungkook can hear that undercurrent, that faint hint of something unreadable in it. He’s watching, too—too carefully.

Jungkook glances at his hyungs. His stomach tightens, and he suddenly feels like he’s standing on unstable ground, caught in the midst of something he doesn’t understand. They all look at him, the weight of their gazes pressing down on him, and he feels small under it. But refusing outright feels wrong—impolite, even. His instinct tells him to trust his hyungs, but he doesn’t know what’s going on beneath the surface.

So, after a long moment, he finally nods, his voice soft. “Okay.”

Sungjae’s smile is smooth, almost too smooth, and he gestures for Jungkook to follow him. The way he moves is fluid, assured, like a predator who knows exactly where it’s leading its prey. Jungkook feels the stares of his pack as he steps away from them, his heart thudding a little faster in his chest as he follows the alpha through the festival grounds.

The noise of the celebration—the laughter, the chatter, the music—fades as they walk further from the warmth of the fires, past the glow of lanterns hanging like fireflies in the dark. The deeper they go, the quieter it gets, until there’s nothing but the crunch of snow beneath their feet, the distant sound of the wind whispering through the trees.

Sungjae stops beneath a winterberry tree, its branches heavy with snow, the bright red berries standing out against the stark white backdrop of the night. It’s a beautiful place, almost ethereal in its stillness, and for a moment, Jungkook forgets the tension swirling around him. The cold air nips at his cheeks, but it’s peaceful here, away from the eyes of the others.

Then Sungjae turns to face him fully, and the shift in his demeanor is instant. The smile slips from his lips, replaced by something more serious, more intent. There’s a calm in the way he holds himself, but it’s a kind of calm that makes Jungkook uneasy.

“I wanted to speak to you away from everyone else,” Sungjae says, his voice low, almost intimate. “I thought it would be more comfortable this way.”

Jungkook blinks, trying to piece together the fragments of the situation, but his confusion only deepens. “About…?” he asks, his voice uncertain.

Sungjae exhales slowly, his eyes flicking up to the winterberry tree, studying the berries as though they hold some secret. “About you. And me.”

Jungkook’s stomach flips. He feels the words sink into his chest like a stone, a sudden weight pressing against his ribs. “What?”

Sungjae’s lips curl into a smile, but it’s softer now, less teasing, and more… sincere? Jungkook can’t quite place it, but something about it makes his heart race. “I want to make a courting offer.”

Jungkook’s world tilts on its axis. His breath catches, and for a moment, he thinks he might be imagining things. “A—what?”

Sungjae’s gaze is steady, unwavering. “A courting offer. I’ve been interested in you for a while now.” He pauses, his expression flickering with something almost apologetic, as though he knows how overwhelming it must sound. “You probably didn’t notice. I know you’ve had a lot to deal with since coming here, but I have.” He lowers his gaze for a brief moment, like he’s gathering his thoughts, then meets Jungkook’s eyes again.

“I see you, Jungkook. You’re stronger than you think. You’ve survived things that would’ve broken others, and yet, you still carry kindness with you. That’s something I admire. I respect it.” His voice drops a little lower, almost softer. “And, I won’t lie. I find you pretty, too. But I’ve already told you that before.”

Jungkook feels the heat rush to his face, and he has to look away for a second, trying to hide the burning embarrassment. His heart is pounding in his chest, and the weight of Sungjae’s words hangs heavy in the cold air between them.

Sungjae watches him with a softness in his eyes. “I won’t pressure you for an answer right away. Courting is a choice—your choice. But I wanted you to know how I feel, openly.”

Jungkook’s mind is spinning. This was so much. So fast. His fingers curl into the sleeves of his jacket, gripping them tight as if they could anchor him to the present. This wasn’t something he had expected, not in a million years. An alpha—Sungjae—offering to court him? It felt like a dream, or maybe a nightmare. Was he really strong? Was he worthy of an alpha’s attention?

Jungkook swallows, trying to force the sudden rush of panic down, trying to steady his breath. He doesn’t know what to say. His mind races through a thousand thoughts, none of them coherent enough to make sense. He had just started to understand himself, to feel like he was building something solid here with this pack, and now this—this unexpected offer is pulling him in a direction he’s not sure he’s ready to go.

Sungjae waits patiently, his expression calm, but Jungkook can see the uncertainty in his eyes, the fear of rejection that lingers there. He takes a deep breath, his chest tight with all the things he doesn’t know how to say.

“I…” He hesitates, biting his lip, trying to find the right words. “I really appreciate what you said. And I think you’re a great alpha, Sungjae, I really do.” His throat tightens, and he can feel the weight of the decision pressing on him. He wants to tell Sungjae something else, something that might make it easier. “But… I don’t think I can accept.”

Sungjae’s expression flickers for just a moment—a flash of disappointment that’s quickly hidden behind a mask of understanding. He exhales slowly, nodding. “I understand.”

Jungkook feels guilt crawl up his spine, twisting inside him. He didn’t want to hurt Sungjae, but he couldn’t bring himself to say yes, not when he wasn’t sure about his own feelings. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“Jungkook.” Sungjae’s voice is gentle as he cuts him off, a soft chuckle in his tone. “It’s okay.” There’s no anger in his eyes, no bitterness. Just quiet acceptance. “I told you it was your choice. And I respect it.”

Jungkook looks up at him, searching his face for any sign of resentment, but there’s nothing. Just the calm, collected alpha who had shared his feelings. Jungkook feels his heart ache, unsure of what to do with the raw honesty that Sungjae had just offered.

“I won’t bother you about it again,” Sungjae says, his smile small but genuine, tinged with something wistful. “But I meant what I said. if you change your mind I’ll make sure to be a good alpha for you.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say to that. He opens his mouth, but the words don’t come. Instead, he nods, his thoughts a jumble of confusion and uncertainty. He’s grateful for Sungjae’s respect, but the weight of the moment hangs heavily on his chest, leaving him with more questions than answers.

The moment Jungkook goes back to his hyungs, it’s like the air thickens around him, pressing in from every side. Their gazes fall on him—not harsh or accusing, but quiet, probing. It’s the kind of attention that doesn’t demand answers, but it’s there, heavy and all-encompassing. He can feel it, the subtle weight of it, settling on his shoulders like a blanket. 

Namjoon’s eyes flicker over him, a quick but deliberate glance, the kind that makes Jungkook’s heart beat a little too fast. It’s not just a look—it’s a silent question, an unspoken inquiry into whether Jungkook is okay. Namjoon doesn’t say anything, but the deep furrow of his brow, the way his lips press into a thin line, tells Jungkook that he's waiting, watching, assessing.

Then, from the side, Yoongi shifts. His posture changes, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. It’s subtle, but Jungkook can see it—a protective stance, a shield, as if Yoongi is bracing himself for whatever is about to unfold. The silence that stretches between them grows almost unbearable, a tension that gnaws at Jungkook’s chest. 

Jungkook’s throat tightens, and he swallows. He doesn’t know why, but being here, with all their eyes trained on him, makes his heart race harder than when Sungjae had actually spoken to him. It’s like their gaze digs into his skin, a reminder that they’re all waiting for something. Expecting something.

And then—

“So?” Taehyung’s voice cuts through the silence like a blade, his eyes wide, round, and eager. He leans forward, practically vibrating with anticipation. “Did you accept it?”

The question hits Jungkook like a punch to the stomach. He doesn’t even have time to process it before Seokjin’s hand is on Taehyung’s arm, swatting it lightly with an exasperated shake of his head. “Tae,” Seokjin chides, his voice firm but laced with fondness. “You can’t just ask something like that.”

“Why not?” Taehyung counters, rubbing his arm where Seokjin touched him, but his grin doesn’t fade. His gaze doesn’t waver from Jungkook, still demanding an answer. “Jungkook’s our baby. We have to know.”

Jimin, who had been watching quietly until now, suddenly nods along with Taehyung, his face lighting up with an eager, knowing smile. “Yeah! What if he did accept? Then what?”

“Exactly!” Taehyung exclaims, a little louder now, crossing his arms over his chest in a mock serious pose. “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.”

Jungkook’s chest tightens, and he looks around at their faces, trying to gauge how they feel, what they really want to know. The energy in the room shifts, subtle but palpable. Even Yoongi, usually the least expressive, has a flicker of curiosity in his eyes—an almost imperceptible raise of his brow that Jungkook catches if he looks closely enough.

Namjoon lets out a long, heavy sigh, rubbing his hand down his face like he’s trying to erase the weariness from his bones. But there’s no anger in it, no frustration—just a deep, weary amusement. “Jungkook doesn’t have to tell us if he doesn’t want to,” he says softly, like he’s trying to reassure both Jungkook and himself. But the undercurrent of concern in his voice is hard to miss.

Jungkook blinks. His eyes move over each face, reading their expressions—the barely contained curiosity in Yoongi’s stare, the eager anticipation in Taehyung’s, the softness in Seokjin’s smile. They all want an answer. It’s unspoken, but it’s there. They’re waiting. And Jungkook can feel the pressure building, rising in the pit of his stomach, weighing him down, suffocating him.

He huffs a soft, shaky laugh, a sound that feels foreign even to him, and shakes his head. “I didn’t accept,” he says, the words leaving his lips before he’s even fully aware of it. It feels like the truth, a simple declaration, but as soon as he says it, something in the room shifts. 

For a long, tense moment, there’s only silence. The kind of silence that speaks louder than any words ever could. 

Then—

“You didn’t?” Jimin’s voice breaks the quiet, high and disbelieving. His eyes widen, the shock clear on his face. Taehyung echoes him, his face contorting in equal parts confusion and disbelief. “You didn’t?” His words tumble out faster now, desperate to understand. 

Jungkook stares at them, taken aback by their reactions. His heart flutters in his chest. He’s not sure.

Namjoon exhales slowly, and for a moment, Jungkook watches the way his shoulders soften, the tension melting away, just the slightest bit. Yoongi’s sharp gaze doesn’t falter, but there’s something in it that Jungkook can’t quite place. Maybe relief? It’s hard to tell.

Hoseok, who has been mostly silent, tilts his head slightly, studying Jungkook with an expression of quiet curiosity. “Sungjae’s a good alpha,” he says thoughtfully, his tone light but tinged with genuine curiosity. “Most people would’ve accepted without hesitation. Was there something you didn’t like about him?” 

Jungkook hesitates. He feels his stomach churn, his thoughts swirling as he tries to find the right words. “No, he’s nice,” he murmurs, voice quiet, unsure. “I just…” He frowns, searching for the words, the right words to explain it. “It didn’t feel right. Not with him.”

The room holds its breath, waiting for more. 

He shifts his weight, uneasy under their gazes, before continuing, his voice quieter now, as if speaking the truth aloud makes it even more real. “Sungjae’s kind, and I know he meant everything he said. But when I thought about it—really thought about it—he didn’t feel like… the right person for me.” He pauses, struggling to voice what’s inside his heart. “Not for me.”

There’s a thick, pregnant silence that follows his words. They all seem to hold their breath, processing what he’s said. His chest tightens, unsure of what’s going to come next, what they’ll think of him now.

Then, to his surprise, it’s Seokjin who smiles first. It’s soft, understanding, a little knowing. “That’s a good enough reason,” he says, his voice gentle, his smile almost sad, like he knows something Jungkook doesn’t. 

Jimin and Taehyung exchange a glance, relief flickering in their eyes. They don’t push. Instead, they let it go, giving him the space to breathe. 

Namjoon hums, eyes thoughtful as he considers Jungkook’s words. His expression softens, and when he speaks, his voice is steady, calm. “I think you made the right choice,” he says, his gaze steady, unwavering. 

Jungkook blinks up at him, a little surprised by the sincerity in his voice. He hadn’t expected it, not fully. “You do?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, unsure of what to feel, of what to think.

Namjoon’s gaze settles on him, warm but unwavering, and for a moment, the world feels like it pauses. The weight of his eyes is not harsh, but firm, like the unspoken reassurance of someone who knows exactly what they’re doing. “You didn’t say no because of fear or pressure,” Namjoon murmurs, his voice steady and sure, wrapping around Jungkook like a blanket of protection.

“You said no because it wasn’t what you wanted.” His hand moves, ruffling Jungkook’s hair in a gentle, affectionate gesture, the touch brief but grounding. “That’s how it should be.”

The simple words stir something deep within Jungkook, and before he knows it, a strange warmth blooms in his chest. It feels like a weight lifting off him, as if the burden of doubt he hadn’t realized he was carrying is suddenly gone.

“Besides,” Yoongi’s voice interrupts the quiet moment, low and calm, cutting through the silence with its steady rhythm. From his place on the side, Yoongi’s gaze sharpens on him, his eyes never leaving Jungkook’s. “There’s no rush, Jungkook-ah.” His voice is softer now, almost like a balm to the nerves that still hum through Jungkook’s body. But there’s an unmistakable thread of protectiveness running through it, something that makes Jungkook feel like he’s being shielded from everything he doesn’t need to worry about. “You’ll know when it’s right.”

The words hang in the air between them, and Jungkook feels something shift within him—something unspoken, too deep for words. He meets Yoongi’s eyes, and for a split second, the rest of the world disappears. He doesn’t fully understand what Yoongi means, but the certainty in his gaze, the quiet reassurance, makes his chest feel lighter, like the world isn’t so heavy anymore.

The chaos of the evening falls into the background, the weight of their gazes settling into something quieter, more comforting. Taehyung and Jimin, who had been hanging on every word earlier, are soon distracted by something else—a new topic to argue over. They bicker playfully, their voices fading into the background as Jungkook allows himself to breathe, finally letting go of the tightness in his chest.

Despite the uncertainty, despite the turmoil, he feels a little more settled now. He had made his choice, and somehow, it feels like the right one. But Jungkook hadn’t expected this much attention.

At first, Sungjae’s offer had been enough to leave him flustered, overwhelmed by the weight of it all. But as the night wears on, he quickly realizes it’s not over. He isn’t done being at the center of attention. One by one, different pack members approach him—not just alphas, but betas and omegas alike—each with their own quiet confidence, their own respectful gestures. Some offer small tokens, others simply express admiration. But the underlying message is the same.

They want to court him.

Jungkook stands there, uncertain how to react. He had never been in a position like this before. Back in the village, he had always been overlooked, the one standing on the edges, watching others experience life while he stayed on the periphery. But here, in the pack, people see him. They want to be with him. And it’s… strange. More than that, it’s overwhelming.

Jimin and Taehyung, on the other hand, are less than pleased. Jungkook notices it almost immediately—the tightening of Taehyung’s grip on his sleeve after the second offer, the way Jimin’s lips press into a tight line, his eyes narrowing with quiet disapproval.

By the third courting offer, Taehyung leans against Jungkook dramatically, his body language practically screaming annoyance, and Jungkook can feel the weight of his presence, like a shield pressed tightly against his side. By the fourth, Jimin is edging closer, his body practically radiating an aura of disapproval, his eyes darting from the person offering courtship to Jungkook like he’s ready to step in at any moment.

Jungkook feels the tension building, the soft but undeniable undercurrent of frustration from his hyungs. It’s not that they’re angry—at least, not in the way he would expect—but it’s clear that they don’t like the situation. They don’t want anyone to get too close to him.

When the fifth person approaches, a soft smile playing on their lips, Jungkook barely has time to offer a polite refusal before Taehyung lets out a sharp, frustrated huff, his hand suddenly grabbing Jungkook’s wrist with a firmness that leaves no room for argument.

“That’s it,” Taehyung declares, his voice sharp, with an edge of finality. “We’re leaving.”

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard by the sudden intensity of Taehyung’s words. Before he can react, Jimin, ever the silent guardian, grabs his other wrist, his grip gentle but firm. He nods, his face a picture of quiet determination, his eyes never leaving the person who had dared to approach.

“I agree,” Jimin says, his voice low and resolute. His presence is like a calm storm, powerful and unyielding. He doesn’t have to say more. The message is clear—Jungkook belongs with them. And anyone else who thinks otherwise better think again.

Jungkook is torn between surprise and a quiet sense of gratitude. The sheer protectiveness they exude is overwhelming, but also comforting in a way he didn’t know he needed.

Their presence, their refusal to let anyone else get too close to him, makes his chest tighten, but this time, it’s with warmth—like a soft light spreading through him. Despite everything, despite the chaos of the evening, he knows one thing for certain,

He isn’t alone and it doesn’t feel like he has to be.

Notes:

Heyyy!! ✨

Jungkook dancing with Hobi AND asking for it?? 😱 I'm so freaking proud of him!! 💃🔥 Also, not gonna lie, I would've fallen in love with Hobi instantly ! 😍💖

Kookie got to experience the flower crown moment, and let me just say, he's SO popular!! 🌸👑 The hyungs can whine and complain all they want, but they're the ones taking forever to court him!! 😏 Like, just tell him you love him already, seriously!!

See y'all! 👋💕

Chapter 29: First Steps

Summary:

Jimin and Taehyung have a little talk with Jungkook

Jungkook barely has a second to react before it happens.

Strong hands latch onto his arms, firm and unyielding, and in the blink of an eye, he’s being dragged away.

“What—” he starts, startled, but neither omega gives him a chance to speak.

“No more,” Taehyung declares, his voice resolute, unwavering. Determination bleeds through every syllable, his grip on Jungkook as solid as his words. “We’re done.”

Jungkook’s wide eyes dart toward the others, toward his hyungs who have turned at the sudden movement. Their reactions range from confusion to mild amusement, but before any of them can intervene, Jimin tightens his grip on Jungkook’s wrist, and suddenly—

They run.

“Yah—where are you taking him?” Hoseok calls after them, his voice still light but laced with growing concern.

Jungkook barely manages to twist his head back in time to see the alphas move, as if they might follow. But Jimin and Taehyung are faster.

Jungkook has no choice but to stumble forward, his breath catching in his throat as the world blurs around him. The warm glow of lanterns flickers past in rapid succession, confused festival-goers turning their heads as the three of them weave through the crowd, their hurried steps kicking up soft puffs of snow.

His heart pounds wildly—not from the courting offers that had overwhelmed him moments ago, but from this—the sudden, breathless chase, the way Jimin and Taehyung pull him forward without hesitation, their bodies moving with single-minded purpose. The sheer determination radiating off of them is palpable, sending a shiver down his spine that has nothing to do with the cold.

Jimin’s grip on his wrist is tight, his fingers searing despite the chill in the air. Taehyung’s hold on his sleeve is just as firm, his strength solid, unrelenting. There’s no hesitation in them, no second-guessing. Just their hands anchoring him in place, their intent as sure as their footfalls.

By the time they finally slow to a stop, Jungkook is panting, his chest heaving, legs burning from the effort of keeping up. His breath clouds in the air as he struggles to catch it, and it’s only then that he realizes where they’ve taken him.

A quiet, secluded part of the forest—far from the festival’s warmth and laughter, far from prying eyes and the weight of expectations pressing in on all sides. The air is crisper here, the winter’s bite sinking into his flushed skin, sharp and unforgiving.

Towering winterberry trees surround them, their thin, pale branches stretching skyward, adorned with clusters of vivid red berries that pop against the endless white of freshly fallen snow. The ground beneath them is untouched, blanketed in a soft, powdery layer that glows under the moonlight, unmarred by footprints save for their own.

The distant hum of the festival has faded into nothing more than a whisper on the wind.

And just like that, the world stills around them.

The crisp winter air bites at Jungkook’s heated skin, his breath still coming in uneven puffs as he tries to catch it. The weight of Jimin’s and Taehyung’s hands lingers on his wrist and sleeve, even though they’ve let go. His mind reels, grasping for something—anything—to anchor himself. But before he can even form a coherent thought, he stammers out, “W-What—”

He doesn’t get to finish.

Jimin and Taehyung turn on him in an instant, their matching expressions of pure exasperation hitting him like a physical force. The sheer intensity of their stares is enough to make the words die in his throat.

Jungkook blinks. “What?”

“We can’t take it anymore,” Taehyung announces, voice unwavering, eyes dark with something raw and unshakable. His chest rises and falls with deep, steadying breaths, but his posture is firm, his presence immovable. “Five. Five courting offers, Kookie.”

Jimin nods aggressively, practically vibrating with pent-up frustration. “Do you know what that does to our hearts?”

Jungkook only stares. His mind struggles to keep up, words slipping through his grasp like water. “But… why?”

Jimin groans dramatically, raking a hand through his hair in sheer distress, his whole body practically radiating agony. “Because you’re our baby!”

Jungkook’s mouth falls open. “That’s not an answer!” he snaps, exasperation creeping into his voice now.

Taehyung huffs, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. His lips press into a pout, but his eyes remain sharp, unrelenting. “It is an answer. We don’t like it.”

Jungkook glances between them, searching for any kind of logic in their words, but he’s still hopelessly lost. “You don’t like… what?”

Jimin and Taehyung exchange a glance then—something silent, something understood, something Jungkook isn’t a part of. It lasts only a second, but when they turn back to him, their frustration has softened at the edges, their stubbornness layered with something deeper.

Something aching.

“We don’t like watching other people try to take you from us,” Jimin finally admits, voice quieter now but no less firm. His gaze locks onto Jungkook’s, unwavering, as if willing him to understand. “We don’t like the idea of you being someone else’s.”

Jungkook’s breath catches.

The world around them is quiet, the cold biting at Jungkook’s skin, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth blooming in his chest—the overwhelming heat of realization settling deep into his bones.

Something stirs inside him, something fragile yet insistent, curling low in his stomach, threading through his veins like fire. It makes his fingers twitch at his sides, makes his breath catch somewhere between his ribs, makes his heart stutter with something dangerously close to hope.

He tries to speak—tries to grasp onto the mess of thoughts tangling in his mind—but the words lodge in his throat, too heavy to force out. “Hyung—” he begins, voice barely above a whisper, but it’s useless. The weight of this moment is too much, pressing down on him, making it impossible to breathe, let alone speak.

Taehyung sighs, the sound quiet but weighted, thick with something unspoken. He steps forward, slow and deliberate, his usual brightness dimmed by something heavier, something that lingers in the space between them like an unrelenting force. When he speaks, his voice is softer, but the gravity in it settles deep, threading through Jungkook’s ribs, sinking into his skin.

“It’s not that we don’t want you to be happy,” Taehyung says, searching Jungkook’s face with eyes that are achingly open, as if willing him to understand. “If you really wanted to accept someone’s offer, we’d support you. We would, Kookie. But seeing all those people tonight—watching them try to take you away from us…” He hesitates, his throat bobbing with the weight of something he can’t quite voice.

His hands clench at his sides. “It didn’t feel right. I hated it.”

Jungkook barely has a moment to process the words before Jimin moves beside him, his grip on Jungkook’s wrist tightening—not harsh, not forceful, but firm, just enough that Jungkook can feel the slight tremor in his fingertips.

“Because you’re ours, Pup,” Jimin whispers, his voice unwavering, laced with something raw, something certain.

The words send a violent shudder through Jungkook’s entire body. His breath stalls in his throat, his pulse hammering beneath his skin, so loud he’s sure they can hear it, can feel it.

Jimin’s fingers flex against his wrist, his usually soft eyes darkened with something unrestrained, something that simmers just beneath the surface. There’s no teasing lilt to his voice, no gentle laughter woven into his words. He isn’t playing. Neither of them are.

Beside him, Taehyung is just as intense. His usual air of playfulness is gone, replaced by something unreadable. His expression is steady, but his stance—the way his body leans in ever so slightly toward Jungkook, the restless curl of his fingers—says more than words ever could.

“The hyungs told us to wait,” Jimin murmurs, and this time, there’s the faintest tremble in his voice, just enough for Jungkook to notice. His grip shifts—not loosening, not pulling away, but changing from something demanding to something that pleads.

“But I can’t bear it a second longer.”

His breath shudders as he exhales, his brows furrowing, his hold on Jungkook’s wrist softening just enough to make Jungkook’s heart twist.

“Kook-ah,” Jimin breathes, eyes locked onto his, so close, so open, so devastatingly vulnerable. “Do you know what it does to me? The thought of you accepting someone else’s offer?”

Jimin’s voice drops lower, rougher, his fingers twitching where they rest against Jungkook’s skin.

“It makes my omega feral.”

Jungkook’s lips part, but the words—whatever he might have said—die in his throat, swallowed by the weight of Jimin’s confession.

Jimin exhales sharply, shaking his head as his other hand rakes through his hair, fingers gripping at the strands as if trying to ground himself, to hold himself together. But when he looks back at Jungkook, something in his eyes has cracked—something desperate flickering beneath the frustration, raw and unguarded.

“I can’t do it,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper now. “I can’t just stand there and watch others try to make you theirs. I can’t pretend like it doesn’t matter—like you don’t matter. Because you do. You matter so much that it's making me crazy.”

Jungkook’s heart pounds so hard it feels like it might break something. His breath stutters, his pulse hammering as he turns to Taehyung, desperate for something—some kind of explanation, some reassurance, something to make sense of this overwhelming moment.

But Taehyung only lets out a slow, shaking breath and steps closer.

His gaze is steady, his expression sharp, but when he speaks, his voice is unshaken, carrying a quiet, undeniable conviction.

“Ever since we met,” Taehyung murmurs, each word deliberate, weighted, certain, “our wolves have considered you ours pup. We have considered you ours.”

Jungkook’s stomach flips, his pulse a frantic rhythm against the walls of his chest. His entire body feels suspended in a moment too fragile to breathe through, caught between the gravity of their words and the unshakable certainty in their voices.

“I know we don’t know each other as well as we should yet,” Taehyung continues, and for the first time, his composure wavers—just slightly, just enough. His hand lifts, barely a movement, hesitant and unsure, as though he wants to reach out but can’t, as though touching Jungkook now might shatter something neither of them know how to fix. His fingers hover in the space between them, close enough that Jungkook can feel the warmth of his skin, but never quite touching.

“But we can’t—” Taehyung’s voice cracks, the sound barely perceptible, but Jungkook feels it, deep in his bones, like a tremor through his very being. He swallows hard, his throat bobbing with something unspoken. “We can’t just let you go. Not when you’re already ours.”

The world tilts. It feels as though the ground beneath Jungkook’s feet has slipped away, leaving him weightless, untethered, caught in something too vast and too overwhelming to grasp.

Jimin and Taehyung—

His wolves.

They’re looking at him like they’re terrified of what he might say next, like his response holds the power to either save them or shatter them completely. There’s no teasing in their eyes now, no lingering traces of the playful mischief they so often wield like a shield. Just… fear. Longing. A desperate, silent plea.

And then, as if pulled by the same invisible thread, they both lower their heads.

Jungkook’s breath catches as he watches them fold in on themselves, their bodies instinctively curling inward—not in submission to an alpha, not because of what they are, but because they’re afraid of hurting him. Afraid that their feelings, their confessions, might push him away.

“We’re sorry,” Jimin whispers, and Jungkook’s stomach twists at the way his fingers curl into tight fists at his sides, his nails pressing white crescents into his palms. His voice is so small, so careful, like he’s afraid of breaking something between them. “If this makes you uncomfortable.”

Taehyung nods beside him, his usual confidence dimmed into something fragile. “But we had to tell you.” His voice is softer now, barely above a breath, but there’s no hesitation in his words—only quiet certainty.

Jimin inhales sharply, and the sound is enough to make Jungkook’s heart stutter.

“We like you, Jungkook. We like you so much it hurts.”

The words punch through the air between them, heavy and unrelenting, and Jungkook feels something inside him lurch—something he isn’t sure he can name. His breath hitches, caught somewhere between disbelief and something deeper, something warmer, something dangerous.

Jimin swallows hard, and when he speaks again, his voice is raw, stripped of all its usual playfulness, laid bare in a way that makes Jungkook’s chest ache.

“Not just because you’re cute,” he says, his lips pressing together briefly, as though the words aren’t quite enough. “And pretty.”

“Though you are,” Taehyung adds quietly, his usual easygoing grin nowhere to be found. Instead, a small, nervous smile tugs at his lips, almost self-conscious, almost hesitant— almost afraid.

Jimin nods. “But also because you’re funny. And kind. And—” His throat works, emotion thickening his voice, threatening to drown it. His eyes burn as he forces out the last words, as if they’ve been there for too long, waiting for the chance to finally be spoken.

“Because you’re ours.”

The air between them is suffocating, thick with unspoken emotion, with longing so tangible it feels like it could crush him.  

And Jungkook—Jungkook doesn’t know how to breathe.  

A shudder rolls through Jungkook’s body, his entire frame trembling under the weight of everything he has just heard. His thoughts are a tangled mess, swirling around him like a storm he can’t quite catch, and he doesn’t know what to say. The words stick in his throat, like his body is too frozen to respond, too overwhelmed by the sheer gravity of the moment.

His heart pounds hard against his ribs, a frantic rhythm he can’t silence. He doesn’t even know how to process any of it, how to take in the way the two omegas are looking at him now—intense, raw, as if they have bared something too sacred to be seen, yet they are offering it to him all the same.  

And then—  

Both Taehyung and Jimin straighten, their bodies coming together in a subtle shift that draws Jungkook’s eyes to them, their presence suddenly towering with a quiet but undeniable strength. Their shoulders square, their eyes lock onto his with an unwavering intensity that leaves his chest tight and breathless.

It’s as though they are two forces of nature, and he—he is nothing more than the storm-tossed branch caught in their pull. The way they look at him makes his pulse skip, as if his entire being is laid bare under their gaze, and everything he has ever known—everything he has ever thought he understood—is crumbling away, piece by piece.  

“We want to make a courting offer,” Taehyung says, his voice a solid thing, firm and resolute.  

Jungkook’s lips part, but no sound comes out. His heart slams against his ribs, his mind reels, trying to catch up with what his ears have just processed. “W-what?” is all he manages to gasp, the word feeling foreign in his mouth, like it doesn’t belong there. Like the world has tilted on its axis, and he is left trying to find his balance.  

Jimin nods beside Taehyung, his expression unyielding, the seriousness in his eyes only deepening. “We want to make a courting offer.”  

The air around them feels thick, suffocating, as if the very space between them has been charged with something too powerful to hold. Jungkook doesn’t understand, can’t understand, why they would say those words, why they are standing before him with such quiet urgency.  

“On behalf of all of us,” Taehyung adds, his voice softer now but still unwavering, pulling the weight of everything he has said before into something larger. Something final.  

Jungkook blinks, his head spinning, his heart heavy in his chest. “All of you?” The words are a gasp, a desperate attempt to make sense of what feels impossible. All of them? He can’t fathom it. He doesn’t know what he has done to deserve this—to have them, these two omegas who have carved themselves into his life, stand before him like this.

Taehyung’s gaze softens just the slightest bit, and Jungkook catches the faintest trace of something almost tender, something that makes his heart ache in a way that hurts more than it comforts. “The hyungs are taking too long.” His words are laced with something raw that Jungkook can’t quite grasp.

Jimin lets out a shaky laugh, the sound pulling at Jungkook’s chest in a way that makes his stomach flip. It’s strained, too fragile, like it could break at any moment. He rubs at his eyes, his fingers leaving small trails across his face.

“And we’re tired of waiting.” His voice trembles, as if the weight of his own words is crushing him, and Jungkook feels the sudden need to reach out, to stop the cracks from forming. But the space between them seems impossibly wide, and he doesn’t know how to bridge it.

Jungkook has never felt so overwhelmed in his life. It’s like everything is happening at once—like the world is suddenly moving far too fast and he can’t catch up. His mouth opens and closes, his hands trembling at his sides, trying to make sense of the chaos in his chest. “I—” The words refuse to come.

Jimin is quick to step forward, his eyes wide, the pleading look in them enough to make Jungkook feel like he’s sinking. “We’re not asking for an answer right now,” he says quickly, his voice urgent, as if every second matters. “We just—We just needed you to know.” There’s a desperation there, a quiet desperation that makes Jungkook’s throat tighten. “Because we can’t stand the thought of losing you before we even get the chance to court you.”

Jungkook swallows hard, his heart pounding louder in his chest. Losing him? The words feel like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him, and suddenly everything around him feels suffocating, overwhelming. He looks at Jimin, then Taehyung, his heart torn in two by the quiet, desperate sincerity that radiates from them.

And then, standing there, surrounded by the stark beauty of the winterberries—red and vibrant against the pale winter landscape—Jungkook realizes something that terrifies him more than anything else he’s ever felt.

They aren’t just asking.

They’re waiting.

For him.

Jungkook’s heart hammers in his chest, racing so violently that for a moment, he thinks he might collapse from the sheer force of it. His legs feel weak beneath him, his mind struggling to keep up with the cascade of emotions and words tumbling through him. Everything feels blurred, like he’s watching the world through a fog, his body instinctively swaying to stay upright as the intensity of the moment swallows him whole.

The words keep echoing in his mind, a vicious cycle he can’t escape. They like me? He can’t make sense of it. His breath comes in short, shallow bursts, his body trembling with confusion and something else—something that makes his stomach churn in the worst possible way.

His lips part, but no sound comes out at first. He can’t make his voice work, can’t form the question that burns in his throat. It’s too much, too overwhelming. But finally, with a breathless rasp, the only words he can manage tumble out, barely above a whisper.  

“…You like me ?” The question hangs in the air, a fragile thing that feels like it will shatter under the weight of the silence that follows.  

Jimin’s laughter is soft, almost melodic, but it doesn’t ease the tension in Jungkook’s chest. If anything, it makes the heat in his cheeks intensify, his mind spinning faster than he can comprehend. “Yes, Jungkookie,” Jimin says, his voice gentle but steady. There’s a warmth in his eyes that Jungkook can’t look away from, something so tender it feels almost unbearable.  

Taehyung makes a low sound, a soft hum that seems to vibrate in the air between them. He reaches out with a delicate touch, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from Jungkook’s face, and the simple motion feels so intimate, so personal, that Jungkook’s heart leaps in his chest. “We like you,” Taehyung echoes, his voice quiet but laced with an unshakable certainty.  

Jungkook feels like the ground has slipped out from beneath him. His breath hitches, his mind struggling to catch up. The world around him spins, and he can’t process any of it—can’t understand how they could possibly feel this way.

His hands ball into fists at his sides, his body fighting the heat that’s rising within him, burning beneath his skin. He wants to push it all away, to reject it, because this can’t be real. He isn’t meant for them. They’re too much, too beautiful, too... everything. And he? He’s just…  

“That’s—” Jungkook’s throat tightens, making it hard to breathe, let alone speak. “That’s impossible.” The words come out broken, a fractured attempt to make sense of the madness swirling around him. He shakes his head, trying to escape the pressure building in his chest, but nothing makes sense.

“Why would you—? You’re you,” he stammers, his voice shaky with disbelief, “and I’m just…” His words falter, his breath uneven. “I’m just…”  

“You,” Taehyung finishes softly, his voice a quiet anchor in the storm raging inside Jungkook.  

Jungkook’s stomach twists painfully at the simplicity of it. His thoughts scatter, his chest tightening with the weight of something he can’t quite name. The look on their faces—on Jimin’s, soft and understanding, and Taehyung’s, steady with an unspoken promise—makes his heart twist in ways that make him ache with something far too complicated to unravel in this moment.  

Jimin’s expression shifts, and for the briefest second, Jungkook sees a flicker of something like sadness in his eyes—something that makes his chest tighten further. “Pup,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost breaking under the weight of it. “You really don’t see it, do you?”  

Jungkook’s gaze meets theirs, confusion and fear warring within him. “See what?” He’s so lost in the chaos of his thoughts that he doesn’t know what they’re talking about anymore. His chest aches, his heart thundering in his ears as he waits for them to explain.  

Taehyung exhales slowly, shaking his head with a small, fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “How easy it was to love you.” His words are soft, but they carry a weight that hits Jungkook like a blow to the chest. They’re too much, too raw, too honest, and they leave him gasping for air, for understanding, for something—anything—to help him process the tidal wave of emotion crashing over him.  

Jimin’s fingers curl gently around Jungkook’s hands, his touch firm yet tender, grounding him in a way that almost feels like a lifeline. “Because we do,” he says, his voice steady now, a quiet certainty in every word.

“Romantically.” The word hits Jungkook like a physical force, his chest constricting, the air suddenly feeling too thick to breathe. He can’t process it, can’t understand how this is happening. Jimin’s eyes hold something unshakable as he continues, his words flowing with a quiet intensity. “We want to court you.”

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, his hands trembling in Jimin’s as the weight of those words sinks in. His mind spins, his thoughts a whirl of confusion, fear, and something else—something he can’t even name. He isn’t sure how to react, how to understand what they’re offering him, what they’re asking of him.

“We want to spend time together,” Jimin goes on, his voice softer now but no less serious. “Go on dates—”

“Make you ours,” Taehyung adds, his voice smooth, almost teasing, but the sincerity behind it is undeniable. It’s too much. Jungkook’s head spins, his face burning so hot he thinks he might pass out from the sheer intensity of it all. His pulse thrums in his ears, the weight of their words pressing down on him like a physical force, and all he can do is stand there, stunned and shaking, his heart pounding with something that feels like both terror and exhilaration at once.

“I—” Jungkook’s voice breaks, cracking under the sheer weight of his emotions, and before he can stop himself, he wrenches his hands away from Jimin’s, pressing them over his burning face as if that would somehow shield him from reality. His pulse is a frantic staccato against his ribs, a wild, unrelenting rhythm that only seems to grow more erratic with every passing second. His skin feels like it’s on fire, his thoughts tangled beyond repair, and in his desperation to escape the intensity of their gaze, he can only choke out a strangled, helpless whisper.

“I-I don't...”

Jimin’s laughter is light, sweet, but undeniably amused, and before Jungkook can even think of retreating further, small fingers curl around his wrists, prying them away from his face with an ease that feels almost effortless. His breath stutters as Jimin tilts his head, eyes gleaming with warmth, with something so unbearably fond it makes Jungkook’s heart lurch violently. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered, pup.”

Beside him, Taehyung nods solemnly, his deep voice humming with agreement, though his lips twitch in a barely concealed smile. “Absolutely adorable. All soft and sweet.”

Jungkook lets out a whine, low and distressed, every muscle in his body coiling with the urge to flee. “S-stop—”

But they don’t stop.

If anything, their laughter only grows, bright and unrestrained, surrounding him in waves of warmth that make it impossible to breathe, impossible to think of anything but them. Their scents flood the air around him, rich and familiar—Jimin’s soft cherries, Taehyung’s sweet raspberries—wrapping around him like the gentlest of traps, leaving him with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

His heart is still racing when something else occurs to him, and the realization sends a fresh wave of panic surging through his veins, sharp and unrelenting. His stomach twists, his breath stalls as his mind latches onto a new, terrifying thought, one that steals the air from his lungs before he can stop it.

“The hyungs,” he blurts suddenly, his voice laced with something close to dread. His wide, panicked eyes dart between them, searching for some kind of reassurance, some way to make this make sense. “I don’t think they’d— They wouldn’t like this.” His throat tightens, his chest constricting painfully around the words. “They wouldn’t want this.”

Jimin and Taehyung exchange a look, their eyes meeting in a silent conversation that Jungkook isn’t privy to—one that seems to stretch between them like an inside joke, something secret and shared. And then, all at once, they both burst into laughter.

Jungkook’s stomach drops.

He can only stare at them, completely, utterly lost. “Why are you laughing?” he demands, his voice higher than he wants it to be, his panic growing by the second.

“Oh, Jungkookie,” Taehyung sighs, shaking his head, his lips quirking with fond exasperation. “All of them already agreed.”

Jungkook freezes. His mind blanks. The air in his lungs turns to ice. “What?” he rasps, his voice barely audible.

Jimin giggles, squeezing his hands like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “We’ve all talked about it, multiple times.” he explains, still smiling. “We all agreed that we liked you. That we wanted to court you.”

Jungkook feels like the world tilts beneath his feet, like the earth itself has been ripped out from under him, leaving him suspended in a reality that can’t possibly be real. His brain refuses to process it, refuses to accept the words for what they are.

All of them.

“All of you?” he whispers, barely able to get the words out.

Taehyung hums in confirmation, nodding as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “But the hyungs thought it was too early. They wanted to wait, to give you time to settle in.” His lips press into a thin line, his expression briefly shifting into something vaguely annoyed. “We don’t think that. Can't risk you getting stolen from us by some alpha.”

Jimin nods, his tone turning gentle again, as if he senses just how close Jungkook is to falling apart. “Courting is meant for getting to know one another,” he explains softly. “It’s not rushing anything. It’s just giving us all a chance to see where this could go.”

Jungkook feels his chest tighten, his vision going hazy around the edges. This isn’t some joke. This isn’t some casual, teasing comment that they’ll laugh off the next day.

This is real.

They want him. All of them.

And Jungkook? He’s not sure how to survive that.

All of them.

Jungkook’s stomach twists, his breath hitching as a creeping sense of doubt claws its way into his chest. His mind struggles to grasp the weight of it, the sheer magnitude of what they’re saying. His fingers curl into trembling fists at his sides, his throat tightening around the words that feel almost too dangerous to voice.

“But…” His voice is small, hesitant, like the barest whisper of a question he isn’t sure he wants the answer to. “You’re all already mated.”

The silence stretches for a fraction too long, long enough for the uncertainty to coil tighter in his gut, long enough for fear to whisper see? This isn’t possible. You don’t belong here.

And then—

Jimin and Taehyung blink at him before smiling, so soft, so knowing, that Jungkook’s pulse stutters painfully.

“So?” Taehyung tilts his head, his pretty eyes shimmering with quiet amusement, like he finds Jungkook’s concern adorable. “The hyungs were already mated when they asked to court Jimin.”

Jungkook freezes.

His breath leaves him in a sharp exhale, his fingers twitching at his sides as the words strike him like a bolt of lightning, sending a shockwave through every inch of his being. His lips part, but nothing comes out—his mind utterly blank, thoughts crashing over one another in a frantic attempt to process what he’s just heard.

Jimin nods, his expression warm, unwavering. “And then Taehyung.”

Jungkook’s mouth opens, his body moving on instinct to respond, to argue—but then it snaps shut just as quickly. His jaw clenches, the words tangling into knots in his throat as the realization settles in, sinking deep into his bones.

This isn’t new. This isn’t something impossible. It’s already happened.

His world tilts, turns on its axis, leaving him floundering in the aftermath of something he hasn’t even considered before now.

Jimin steps closer, closing the last bit of distance between them, and before Jungkook can react—before he can even think of stepping back—gentle hands cradle his face. Soft palms, warm fingertips pressing lightly into his skin, grounding him in a way that makes his breath catch.

“Jungkookie,” Jimin murmurs, his voice impossibly soft, like he’s afraid of startling him, like he’s holding something precious in his hands. “We’re not asking you to decide anything right now.” His thumbs brush lightly over Jungkook’s cheekbones, tender, soothing. “We just… needed you to know.”

Jungkook’s heart pounds against his ribs, so fast, so loud, that he can barely hear anything else. His entire body feels like it’s burning from the inside out, his chest too tight, his skin too hot, and yet—he doesn’t move. He can’t move.

Because that’s the thing.

Now, he does know.

Now, there’s no taking it back, no pretending he hasn’t heard them, no running from the truth that’s just been placed in his hands like a fragile, breakable thing.

He feels unmoored, like the ground beneath his feet’s been swept away, leaving him weightless, drifting in a world that suddenly feels too big, too overwhelming. His mind reels, thoughts spinning too fast for him to catch, too tangled for him to make sense of.

And yet, amidst all the confusion, amidst the way his stomach churns and his breath comes too shallow and his heart pounds so violently against his ribs—one thing becomes clear. This isn’t just a fleeting thought, a spur-of-the-moment confession that will be brushed away if he laughs it off.

They mean it.

This—this is the first courting offer that feels right.

He thinks back to Kyungmin’s words, the way the alpha spoke so confidently, as if he already knew something Jungkook hadn’t been ready to accept. “I think you like them too.”

At the time, Jungkook dismissed it, unwilling—afraid—to sit with those words for too long. Because what if it’s true? What if Kyungmin had seen something in him that he himself had been too scared to face? But now, standing beneath the winterberry trees, with Jimin’s warm hands gently cradling his face and Taehyung’s solid presence right beside him, Jungkook knows.

Kyungmin had been right.

He does like them.

Maybe it’s not love—not yet, not in the way they probably deserve. But it’s something real, something that makes his chest feel too full and his breaths come a little too fast.

He likes Namjoon’s presence, the quiet strength that wraps around him like a comforting embrace, the way the alpha speaks in soft tones but still commands the room without ever needing to raise his voice. He likes how Namjoon always seems to know what to say, how his words carry warmth and reassurance even when Jungkook feels like he’s falling apart.

He likes Yoongi’s sharp wit and cool exterior, the way he never seems to care about what others think, but somehow always cares about them. He likes how Yoongi’s concern comes in silent gestures—a hand resting briefly on Jungkook’s back, a flower carefully placed in his hair that means more than anything.

He likes Seokjin’s dramatics, the way he can make Jungkook laugh, but also the way he can flip so effortlessly from playful to serious, protective in a way that leaves no room for argument. He likes how Seokjin fusses over him, pretending to be over-the-top about it.

He likes Hoseok’s energy, the way his presence alone seems to brighten even the darkest of days. He likes how Hoseok always knows exactly what to do to lift Jungkook’s spirits, how his laughter is infectious, how he makes Jungkook feel safe, like nothing bad could ever happen when he’s around.

He likes Jimin’s duality, the way he can be so sweet, so effortlessly charming with his giggles and soft words, only to turn around and command attention in an instant. He likes how Jimin never lets himself be underestimated, how his confidence is something fierce and unshakable, yet he always softens for those he cares about.

And Taehyung—God, Taehyung. Jungkook likes the way he speaks so boldly, how he always says exactly what’s on his mind, unafraid of the consequences. He likes how Taehyung looks at him like he’s something precious, like he’s something to be claimed. He likes how Taehyung never holds back, how he makes Jungkook feel wanted in a way that no one else ever has.

He likes them.

He likes all of them.

And now, they’re standing here, looking at him with nothing but warmth and longing in their eyes, telling him that they like him too. That they’ve already decided they want him, want to court him. That they’ve been waiting, holding back because they thought it was too soon—but they don’t want to wait anymore.

Jungkook feels like his entire body is burning.

Can he accept this?

His fingers curl into the fabric of his sleeves, his breath coming out in short, shaky exhales. There’s still so much he doesn’t know, so much he isn’t sure of. But one thing he does know is that standing here, with them, feels right. It feels like the first time in a long time that he isn’t completely lost, like he’s finally found something solid to hold onto.

He wants this.

Maybe he doesn’t fully understand it yet. Maybe he still has doubts, still has fears lingering in the back of his mind. But he wants to try.

His throat feels tight as he parts his lips, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I—I…” His breath hitches, his hands trembling slightly as he forces himself to speak. “I want to... Please.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, the air around them seems to shift.

Jimin lets out a small, choked gasp, his fingers tightening around Jungkook’s. His eyes, wide and shining with something Jungkook can’t quite name, search Jungkook’s face as if making sure he’s truly heard him right.

Taehyung freezes for a second before his lips part, his breath coming out in a visible puff of air in the cold night. His usually bright, teasing expression softens into something almost vulnerable, his gaze locked onto Jungkook like he’s trying to etch this moment into his memory.

And then, before Jungkook can react, Jimin lets out a tiny, breathless noise before surging forward, wrapping his arms around Jungkook in a hug so tight it knocks the air right out of him.

“Jungkookie,” Jimin whispers, his voice filled with something thick and unspoken, his breath warm against Jungkook’s neck.

Taehyung makes a delighted sound before throwing himself at them both, his arms encircling them with no hesitation, practically tackling them into the snow. Jungkook yelps, his balance thrown off as they tumble together, the cold seeping through his clothes, but the warmth of their bodies keeps him from shivering. Laughter bubbles up from Taehyung’s chest, and even Jimin, who had looked close to tears just moments ago, lets out a breathless giggle, his grip on Jungkook not loosening in the slightest.

“You really mean it?” Jimin asks after a moment, pulling back just enough to look into Jungkook’s eyes, his expression so open, so hopeful.

Jungkook feels his face heat up all over again, his lips parting, his gaze darting down in embarrassment. But then he nods—once, twice, his movements shy but firm.

“Yes,” he whispers. “I mean it.”

And the way their scents bloom around him, warm and content, makes Jungkook feel like he has finally, finally, come home.

Jimin and Taehyung can barely contain their excitement, their bodies practically vibrating with joy as they cling to Jungkook, their scents rich with warmth and something overwhelmingly pleased.

“Oh, Jungkookie,” Jimin breathes, his hands still gripping Jungkook’s shoulders as if afraid he might disappear. “You don’t know how happy we are right now. The hyungs—God, the hyungs are going to lose their minds.”

Taehyung lets out a laugh, eyes crinkling as he nudges his nose against Jungkook’s temple, his hold around Jungkook’s waist tightening. “They’re going to be beyond themselves,” he agrees, voice thick with satisfaction. “They’ve been waiting for this—we all have.”

Jungkook swallows, still overwhelmed, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this is real. That they have been waiting for him. That they want him.

Jimin’s hands trail down to grasp Jungkook’s, his fingers squeezing gently. “And we’ll treat you right, Jungkookie. The way you deserve to be treated.” His voice is soft but sure, unwavering in its promise.

“Of course we will,” Taehyung adds, eyes flashing. “Because you are ours.”

Jungkook lets out a tiny, shy laugh, ducking his head, but his chest feels warm, like a fire has been lit inside him. He doesn’t know how to respond to words like that, words so firm, so certain, like they have no doubt that he belongs with them.

Then, almost as if a dam has broken, Taehyung lets out a sharp huff, expression turning suddenly frustrated. “Do you know how hard it was?” he demands, eyes narrowing. “Watching everyone looking at you tonight?”

Jimin groans, his grip on Jungkook tightening, his nose scrunching in barely restrained irritation. “It was torture,” he admits.

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard by the sudden shift in mood. “What?”

“You were so pretty, Kookie,” Taehyung continues, his lower lip jutting out slightly. “And you were dancing and laughing, and all these people kept staring at you—”

“Like they had any right to,” Jimin interjects with a scowl. “Like they even had a chance.”

Taehyung nods furiously. “And don’t even get me started on Kyungmin.” His voice drops into a low growl, arms crossing over his chest. “That bastard twirling you around in front of us like—like you weren’t already ours—”

“Like he even had a right to touch you,” Jimin mutters, lips pressing into a thin line.

Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly, a surprised giggle slipping from his lips as he takes in their expressions—so openly, undeniably jealous. “Wait,” he says, voice tinged with amusement, “you guys were jealous?”

“Obviously,” Jimin grumbles, glaring at the memory. “You were dancing with him. He was touching you, his hands on your waist.”

Taehyung groans dramatically, flopping back against the tree. “God, it’s awful.”

Jungkook laughs, covering his mouth with his hands, face flushing in amusement. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d gotten to them tonight.

Jungkook can still feel the warmth of their laughter lingering in the air, the teasing glances they keep throwing his way, and despite the nervous energy thrumming in his veins, he can’t help the small, breathless chuckle that slips past his lips. His pulse is still racing, his heart pounding so loudly that he swears they can hear it, but somehow, he forces himself to speak.

“Kyungmin told me to play along.”

The words tumble out in a rush, barely more than a whisper, but the moment they leave his mouth—

Everything stops.

Jimin and Taehyung freeze mid-breath, their laughter cut short as their eyes widen in unison. The sudden silence is deafening, thick with an almost tangible weight, and Jungkook feels his stomach twist violently at their reaction.

“What?” Jimin asks, his frown deepening, voice sharper now, laced with something Jungkook can’t quite name.

Jungkook swallows hard, shifting his weight anxiously as he glances between them, already regretting opening his mouth. But there’s no taking it back now, no escaping the way their gazes pin him in place, waiting, demanding.

“H-He told me to play along,” Jungkook repeats, voice weaker this time, like saying it out loud makes it sound even more ridiculous. “He said he was trying to make you guys jealous.” He hesitates, hesitates too long, because the weight of what he’s about to say next feels like too much, too impossible. But then—he forces himself to continue. “He also… told me that you liked me.”

Silence.

An awful, suffocating silence.

Jimin and Taehyung stare at him, wide-eyed, completely unmoving, like the world itself has just glitched.

Jungkook feels his face heat up, embarrassment crashing over him like a tidal wave, and he tears his gaze away from them, staring down at his hands instead. His fingers clench uselessly at his sides, nails digging into his palms as he wills himself to stay still, to not run, to not crumble under the weight of their silence.

“I—I didn’t believe him,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper now. “I didn’t think it was possible.”

A strangled noise rips from Jimin’s throat—half frustration, half disbelief—before he smacks Jungkook’s arm, the light sting barely registering past the utter mortification consuming him whole.

“You idiot!” Jimin groans, exasperated. “Are you serious?!”

“Oh my God, Jungkookie,” Taehyung breathes, throwing his hands up in sheer disbelief, pacing for half a second before turning back to glare at him like he had personally offended him. Jungkook winces, ducking his head, his entire face burning hot enough to melt through the snow beneath them. “I didn’t know!” he defends weakly, voice bordering on a whine.

“I thought—”

“What, exactly?” Jimin cuts in, making another frustrated noise before lunging forward and grabbing Jungkook’s face with both hands, squishing his cheeks together so tightly that his lips pucker out like a goldfish. “Well, now you know.”

Jungkook blinks rapidly, eyes wide with startled confusion, his words coming out muffled and garbled under Jimin’s tight grip. “Yesh, now I know.”

Taehyung huffs, but the frustration melts into something softer, fonder, his sharp edges smoothing out as he steps forward, the warmth of his presence pressing into Jungkook’s space. His fingers brush against Jungkook’s wrist, barely a touch, but it sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine anyway.

“Good,” Taehyung murmurs, his voice lower now, steadier, but filled with something undeniably firm. “Because we’re never letting you forget it again.”

Jungkook barely has time to process the way his chest clenches at those words—barely has time to breathe, to think, to exist—before Jimin and Taehyung suddenly lean in at the same time, their eyes gleaming, their expressions shifting into something far more dangerous.

Something mischievous.

And Jungkook realizes, with horrifying clarity—

They’re not done with him yet.

Jungkook barely has time to react before he feels it—the soft but insistent pull of fingers wrapping around his wrist, firm yet careful, as if they’re trying to tether him in place. He turns, startled, only to find Jimin staring up at him, his gaze unusually serious, the playfulness from before simmering just beneath the surface but not quite breaking through.

There’s something almost urgent about the way he holds on, something that sends a shiver creeping down Jungkook’s spine, even before Jimin leans in close enough that his breath ghosts against his skin.

“Listen, Kookie,” Jimin whispers, his voice so soft yet impossibly steady, as if this moment is far more important than Jungkook realizes. His fingers tighten around Jungkook’s wrist, warm and grounding, keeping him from pulling away. “You cannot say anything.”

Jungkook blinks, his brows furrowing. “Huh?”

Before he can fully process what’s happening, another hand curls around his other wrist, just as firm, just as insistent. He turns, only to find Taehyung mirroring Jimin’s expression—serious, focused, but laced with something undeniably mischievous lurking beneath the surface, threatening to spill over at any second.

“Not a word,” Taehyung says, his voice lower now, almost conspiratorial, as if they’re weaving him into something far bigger than himself. His fingers squeeze just slightly, enough to make Jungkook feel the weight of whatever this is. “Don’t tell the hyungs. Not yet.”

Jungkook frowns, confusion knotting his thoughts. “But why—”

Jimin huffs, clearly anticipating his protest, and before Jungkook can say another word, a finger presses against his lips.

The touch is light, barely there, but it steals the air from his lungs completely. His breath hitches, eyes widening slightly as Jimin tilts his head, the hint of a knowing smile curving at the corners of his lips.

“Because we want to tell them,” Jimin says simply, as if that should have been enough of an explanation. His voice is still soft, still playful, but there’s an unmistakable certainty beneath it—something so sure, so unshakable, that Jungkook finds himself holding still, trapped in the weight of it.

“At home,” Jimin adds, his voice dipping lower, carrying a finality that leaves little room for argument.

Beside him, Taehyung’s lips curve into a grin, his eyes practically glowing with excitement. “Yeah,” he murmurs, nodding once. “We’re going to make it special.”

Jungkook’s lips are still slightly parted, still puckered from the press of Jimin’s finger, and he knows he probably looks ridiculous—wide-eyed, confused, completely thrown off balance. But the way they’re looking at him—the gleam in their eyes, the quiet certainty in their voices—it leaves no doubt in his mind that whatever they have planned, it’s something big. Something dramatic. Something entirely, unmistakably them.

He exhales sharply, rolling his eyes, even as warmth curls deep in his chest. “Fine,” he mumbles, the weight of their hands still lingering on his skin.

Jimin and Taehyung exchange a glance, one filled with unspoken words.

A silent victory passing between them.

 

Notes:

Hey guys!! 🌟

Yayyy!! They're finally courting!! 🥳 Omg, the slow-burn was REALLY slow-burning, haha! 😅 Well, they haven’t kissed yet, but don’t worry, that’s coming soon too!

I swear, if it wasn’t for Vmin, the hyungs would’ve just watched Jungkook get stolen away by someone else! 😩💔

Also, I’m sorry for the overload of the word "pup", but I just can’t help it! There’s something about the omegas calling Jungkook that that makes my heart flutter every time! 🥺💖

See you soon! ✨💫

Chapter 30: A Step Closer

Summary:

It’s official, the courting has begun!

Jimin and Taehyung beam at each other, exchanging a triumphant glance before grabbing Jungkook’s hands and pulling him along, their excitement nearly tangible as they guide him back toward the festival. Their steps are light, their fingers wrapped around his with a warmth that lingers, as if to remind him that he isn’t alone in this—never has been, never will be.

By the time they return, the festival is still alive with energy, lanterns flickering like fireflies in the night, music weaving through the air in soft, rhythmic pulses. The scents of roasted meats and sweet pastries drift around them, but Jungkook barely registers any of it. His heart stutters slightly when his gaze lands on his hyungs.

The hyungs are exactly where they left them, gathered together in a loose circle, their presence unwavering. But the moment Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung appear, all eyes snap toward them with sharp focus. The shift in attention is immediate, palpable—like the moment a predator scents something just out of reach.

Namjoon is the first to speak, his brows slightly drawn together, concern evident in the way he straightens instinctively. “Everything okay?” he asks, his deep voice measured but probing, always attuned to the slightest change in his pack.

Jungkook barely has time to form a response before Yoongi’s sharp gaze flickers between them, cutting through the silence like a blade. “What was that about?” he asks, the weight of his scrutiny pressing down on them.

Jimin and Taehyung don’t so much as falter.

“Nothing,” Taehyung says smoothly, his voice dripping with innocence, his smile far too sweet to be genuine. “We just needed to talk.”

Jimin nods along, his expression the perfect picture of casual indifference. “Yep. Just a little omega chat with our sweet Jungkookie”

Jungkook swallows hard, hoping they don’t hear the way his breath hitches. The words sound easy coming from them, effortless even, but his stomach twists uneasily. He’s never been good at lying, and with the way Namjoon and Yoongi are watching him, their gazes keen and assessing, it feels like they might just pry the truth straight from his soul.

The hyungs exchange glances, their skepticism thick in the air.

Hoseok narrows his eyes slightly, his gaze bouncing between the three of them. “You’re not going to tell us what you talked about?”

“Nope,” Taehyung replies cheerfully, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis.

Seokjin lets out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing at his temple as if he’s already resigned to their antics. “Why do I even ask anymore?” he mutters under his breath.

Namjoon looks like he wants to push, his jaw tightening just slightly, but after a moment of tense silence, he exhales, shaking his head. “Fine,” he murmurs, rubbing the bridge of his nose like this is giving him a headache.

Yoongi huffs, his arms crossing over his chest, still clearly unconvinced. “Whatever.”

Jungkook fights the urge to fidget, his fingers curling into his sleeves as he struggles to keep his expression neutral. His pulse pounds against his ribs, an anxious rhythm that threatens to betray him. He doesn’t trust himself not to give something away—not when the hyungs always seem to know everything, not when their eyes feel like they’re peeling back his layers one by one.

Luckily, the attention shifts before the weight of it crushes him.

Jimin tugs at Namjoon’s sleeve, his lips parting into a soft pout, his eyes going impossibly wide—the perfect picture of innocence, as if he isn’t hiding something just beneath the surface. “Hyungie, can we go home now?” he asks, voice dipping into something small and pleading.

Taehyung nods immediately beside him, mirroring the sentiment. “Yeah, I’m tired hyungie.”

Namjoon looks down at them, gaze softening despite himself. “Are you sure pups? You were so excited about the festival.”

Taehyung waves a dismissive hand. “We had fun, but we wanna go home now.”

The excuse is flimsy, but Namjoon doesn’t push.

Instead, it’s Yoongi who turns his focus onto Jungkook, his sharp eyes zeroing in on him like he can see right through him. “What about you Kook-ah?” he asks, his voice quieter but no less demanding. “Do you want to stay longer?”

Jungkook, who has been quiet throughout the exchange, barely hesitates before shaking his head. “No, I’m fine,” he says, his voice steadier than he feels. “I want to go back too.”

Something flickers in Yoongi’s gaze, something unreadable, but whatever it is, he doesn’t say anything. That seems to settle it. The hyungs share brief glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Then, after a beat, Namjoon nods.

“Alright,” he says, his voice carrying the weight of finality. “Let’s go.”

The walk back to the pack house is quiet, a peaceful contrast to the lingering energy of the festival. The night air is crisp, carrying the scent of winterberries and pine.

Jungkook finds himself nestled between Jimin and Taehyung, their presence grounding him in ways he doesn’t quite understand. The occasional brush of their hands against his sends tiny shivers down his spine—not from the cold, but from something deeper, something he isn’t ready to name.

Their warmth lingers, seeping into his skin, a silent promise of comfort, of belonging. Every so often, one of them leans in closer, their scents wrapping around him like a cocoon, a quiet reassurance that he isn’t alone in whatever this is.

By the time they reach the pack house, the familiar scent of home greets them—warm wood, faint traces of coffee, the comforting mix of their packmates lingering in the air. The soft glow of the fireplace flickers in the common area, casting golden light over the plush couches and thick blankets draped lazily over the furniture. It feels safe here, like stepping into a space untouched by the outside world.

As if on instinct, the pack naturally gathers, settling into their usual spots. Jungkook hesitates for only a moment before Jimin and Taehyung pull him down between them, their warmth bracketing him on either side. He sinks into the cushions, but there’s a strange nervous energy thrumming beneath his skin, something fluttery and uncertain, though he can’t quite pinpoint why.

Then, just as he’s beginning to relax, both omegas suddenly stand.

Jimin claps his hands together, the sound sharp in the quiet room, his excitement practically buzzing in the air. “Okay, listen up!”

Taehyung grins beside him, eyes twinkling with barely contained anticipation. “We have great news. We wanted to wait and make it really special but i can't wait anymore.”

The atmosphere shifts instantly.

Yoongi, who had been leaning back lazily, straightens, one brow arching in intrigue. “Oh?”

Namjoon’s sharp gaze flickers between the two of them, curiosity evident in the slight tilt of his head. “What kind of news?”

Hoseok crosses his arms, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Should we be worried?”

Jin exhales, already looking exasperated. “It’s always something with you two,” he mutters, shaking his head.

Jungkook swallows hard, his heart slamming against his ribs. He already knows what they’re about to say—of course he does. He was there when it happened, when he said the words, when he made the choice. But knowing doesn’t make the anticipation any easier to bear.

Jimin and Taehyung exchange a quick glance, something silent but brimming with excitement passing between them before they turn back to the rest of the pack.

“So,” Jimin begins, dragging out the word, tilting his head with a mischievous smile, “while we were away, we had a little heart-to-heart with Jungkookie.”

Taehyung hums, clasping his hands behind his back, rocking slightly on his heels. “And we decided that waiting was stupid.”

The air crackles with tension.

The hyungs straighten almost in unison, the shift subtle but immediate. Namjoon’s expression remains unreadable, but there’s a sharpness to his gaze now, locked onto the two omegas with unwavering focus.

Yoongi’s fingers twitch where they rest on his knee, his whole body going completely still, like a predator sensing a shift in the wind. Jin and Hoseok exchange glances, their usual lightheartedness dimmed by the weight of the moment.

Something is happening.

Something big.

Jimin’s grin stretches wider, practically gleaming with satisfaction as he watches the reactions unfold before him. He looks like he's enjoying this—the way tension crackles through the room, the way the hyungs’ bodies subtly shift, muscles coiling tight as if bracing for impact.

“So,” he announces, dragging out the word, his voice laced with barely contained glee, “we made a courting offer.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

Jungkook’s stomach twists into anxious knots, breath hitching as the weight of those words settles over him like a heavy blanket. He feels unbearably small between the two omegas, his fingers curling around the hem of his pink sleeves in a desperate attempt to ground himself. His heartbeat thunders in his ears, loud and erratic, and for a moment, the entire world seems to narrow to this single, excruciating moment.

No one moves. No one speaks.

The words hang in the air, thick with meaning, pressing down on every single one of them like an unspoken challenge. And then—almost as if drawn by some invisible force—everyone’s gaze shifts.

To him.

Jungkook’s breath stutters, his throat suddenly dry as he finds himself trapped beneath their collective stare. It’s not harsh, not angry, but it’s intense—so intense it nearly steals the air from his lungs. There’s something sharp in their eyes, something deep and overwhelming, a tide of emotions he can’t quite decipher. He feels like he’s standing at the edge of something vast and unknown, teetering on the precipice with no way to stop the fall.

His pulse pounds against his ribs, his skin hot, clammy. Why does it feel like his entire world is tilting? Like everything is shifting into something new, something terrifyingly real?

Jimin, ever the instigator, nudges him with his shoulder, eyes bright with mischief and something softer beneath it. “Tell them what you said, Kookie.”

Taehyung, as always, takes it a step further. He leans in, a slow, wicked grin curling at his lips, his voice dipping into a teasing purr. “Go on, tell them.”

Jungkook’s breath catches. The walls feel like they’re closing in, the heat in the room suffocating, pressing against his chest, stealing his words before he can even form them. He had already accepted, hadn’t he? So why does it feel like he’s about to jump off a cliff?

He forces himself to lift his head, his gaze flickering over each of them—Namjoon, sitting impossibly still, his jaw locked tight, the barest flicker of something desperate in his eyes. Yoongi, fingers curled into the fabric of his pants, his entire frame tense, coiled as if holding himself back. Hoseok, lips parted slightly in what looks like surprise, something almost disbelieving dancing behind his warm gaze. Seokjin, his usual self-assured posture momentarily shaken, the corners of his mouth twitching as if fighting back an emotion too strong to name.

The pressure is suffocating. His hands clench into fists against his lap, nails biting into his palms as he exhales shakily.

And then, finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, he says,

“I… I accepted.”

The words feel too small, too fragile in the thick air, but they are true, and they leave his lips before he can take them back. His face burns with the weight of them, his hands gripping at the fabric of his clothes like an anchor. And then, quieter, almost breathless—

“I-I mean… if you still want me.”

The moment stretches, unbearably long. The air itself seems to crackle, something unspoken vibrating between them.

The room is silent—so silent that Jungkook can hear the faint crackling of the fireplace, the soft rustling of fabric as the hyungs sit frozen in place. Their eyes are locked onto him, wide with shock, but beneath that, something else simmers—something deep and overwhelming.

Beside him, Jimin and Taehyung stand like two mischievous little devils, grinning ear to ear, practically vibrating with excitement. But Jungkook—Jungkook wants to shrink into himself, heat crawling up his neck, spreading across his face like wildfire. Why are they staring at him like that?

Namjoon is the first to move, blinking rapidly as if his brain is still catching up. “You… accepted?” His voice is slow, careful, like he’s making sure he heard correctly.

Jungkook swallows hard, nodding hesitantly. “I—I mean, if you still want me…” His voice is small, uncertain. “I—I know I’m not—”

Whatever self-doubting words he’s about to say are swallowed whole as Seokjin suddenly launches himself at him, wrapping him in a tight, warm hug. “Oh, sweetheart, of course we want you!” Seokjin coos, squeezing him so tightly his feet nearly lift off the ground. “You really think we’d let you go after this? You’re ours now.”

The words send a shiver down Jungkook’s spine, and before he can even process them, another pair of arms latch onto him—Hoseok, laughing brightly as he practically bounces on his heels. “You won’t regret this, Jungkookie,” he promises, voice warm like sunshine. “We’re going to make this so good for you.”

“More than good,” Yoongi murmurs from his seat, his icy eyes gleaming with something almost dangerous. “We’ll take care of you properly.” His voice is low, steady, laced with something possessive, and Jungkook’s breath catches.

“I can’t believe you thought we wouldn’t want you,” Namjoon says, shaking his head, still looking a little stunned. He leans in, cupping Jungkook’s face between his large hands, thumbs brushing over his heated cheeks. “You have no idea how much we hoped you’d accept.” His gaze is steady, unwavering, making Jungkook’s stomach flip.

Jungkook can hardly breathe under all the attention. He’s being smothered in warmth, in affection, in emotions so intense he doesn’t know what to do with them. His face burns, his ears ring, and he can’t even hide it because Jimin and Taehyung are right there, grinning at him like they’ve just won the greatest victory of their lives.

“See?” Taehyung nudges him playfully. “Told you.”

Jimin giggles, wrapping his arms around Jungkook from behind, chin resting on his shoulder. “Awww, you’re so red Jungkookie,” he teases, voice dripping with amusement. “Didn’t think we’d be this happy, huh?”

Jungkook sputters, his brain short-circuiting. “I—I just—”

“I think he’s overwhelmed,” Seokjin notes with a knowing smirk, finally releasing him—only for Hoseok to immediately ruffle his hair, fingers threading through the strands with playful affection.

“Get used to it, Jungkookie,” Hoseok teases, his grin wide and mischievous. “You’re stuck with us now.”

Yoongi, who has been watching everything with that lazy, unreadable smirk, finally leans forward, resting his chin in his hand. “And we don’t let go of what’s ours.” His voice is low, smooth, carrying an edge of finality that sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine.

Jungkook lets out a small, helpless noise and buries his burning face in his hands, completely done with them. His pack—his pack—is going to be the death of him.

He sinks into the plush warmth of the couch, still feeling the lingering heat of their embraces, the air around him thick with the comforting scent of home and happiness. His heart races from their overwhelming reactions, from the way they had looked at him—like he’s something precious, something they had been waiting for.

But as the excitement settles, a new thought creeps into his mind, curling into his chest like a stubborn knot of uncertainty. He hesitates, his fingers tightening in the fabric of his sleeves before he finally gathers the courage to voice it.

“So… what happens now?”

The question makes the others pause, their attention shifting back to him.

“What do you mean, Jungkookie?” Hoseok asks, tilting his head, eyes soft with curiosity.

Jungkook hesitates, chewing on his lip before looking up at them. “I mean… I accepted your courting offer, but I—I don’t really know what that means exactly.” He fidgets with his sleeves, gaze flickering between them. “Like… what does courting actually entail?”

A few of the hyungs blink, momentarily caught off guard, while Taehyung and Jimin grin like they’ve been waiting for this question.

“It’s not some big, serious thing, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Namjoon reassures him, voice steady and patient. “Courting is just about getting to know each other in a more… intentional way.”

Jimin nods eagerly, bouncing slightly in place. “Yeah! It’s about spending time together—alone and in pairs—going on dates, learning more about each other, figuring out how we fit together.”

“It doesn’t have to be formal or stressful,” Seokjin adds with a warm smile. “It’s just… us, doing what we already do, but with more focus on you. On making sure you’re comfortable and happy.”

Jungkook listens carefully, his fingers twisting the hem of his sweater. That… doesn’t sound scary. It actually sounds kind of nice.

But one thing sticks out to him.

“…Going on dates?” He blinks up at them, voice small, uncertain.

Hoseok’s grin stretches wide, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yep! Dates.”

Jungkook opens his mouth, but the words get stuck in his throat. He hesitates, dropping his gaze as warmth creeps up his neck, his fingers nervously twisting in the hem of his sweater. “…I’ve never been on a date before.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

Silence.

Then—

“What?!” Jimin shrieks, practically launching himself off the couch like he’s been personally offended.

“You’ve never been on a date?” Taehyung gapes, looking utterly scandalized.

Seokjin clutches his chest dramatically, gasping like he’s just witnessed a great tragedy. “How is that possible?!”

Even Yoongi, who has been lazily sipping tea this entire time, suddenly chokes, coughing as he sets his cup down a little too hard. His eyes narrow, disbelief flickering across his face. “Are you serious?”

Jungkook flinches at the sheer chaos his words have unleashed, eyes widening as all six of his hyungs turn to him with identical expressions of shock, horror, and something disturbingly close to outrage. He shrinks into the cushions, feeling entirely too small under their intense stares.

“I—I mean, it’s not that weird, right?” he stammers, voice barely steady. “I just—never had the chance?”

“Never had the—oh, no, no,” Hoseok cuts in, shaking his head like this is personally offensive. He pushes himself to his feet, pacing dramatically. “This is a crisis. A travesty.”

Namjoon exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath like he’s recalibrating his entire understanding of the world. “I just assumed… someone like you… never been on a single date?”

“You mean to tell me,” Jimin starts, crossing his arms as he levels Jungkook with an unimpressed look, “that not a single person in your old village had the sense to take you on a date?”

Jungkook’s ears burn hotter. “I—I was kind of busy trying to survive, hyung—”

“Nope. Nope. Unacceptable,” Taehyung interrupts, shaking his head furiously. He turns to the rest of the pack, determination blazing in his eyes. “We have to fix this immediately.”

“Agreed,” Yoongi says without hesitation, setting his tea down with a decisive thud.

Jungkook’s eyes widen in horror. “Wait, what—”

“Alright, everyone,” Seokjin claps his hands together, suddenly in full leader mode. “We need to plan. Who’s taking Jungkookie on his first official date?”

“Hyung!” Jungkook wails, his face burning as he buries it in his hands.

But it’s too late—the damage is done. The arguing starts almost immediately, voices overlapping in a flurry of opinions and self-proclaimed qualifications.

“I should take him first,” Seokjin declares, crossing his arms with an air of finality. “I’m the oldest, and I’ll make sure it’s perfect. Jungkookie deserves nothing less.”

“Hyung, that’s not how this works,” Yoongi scoffs, leaning back against the couch with a lazy smirk. “If anything, it should be me. I won’t overwhelm him.”

Namjoon shakes his head, exhaling sharply as if reigning in patience. “You’re both being ridiculous. I should go first—I’ll make sure it’s something meaningful and comfortable for Jungkook.”

“Oh, please,” Jimin rolls his eyes, flopping onto the armrest dramatically. “You’d turn it into a study session on courting traditions.”

“I would not!” Namjoon gasps, looking genuinely offended. “I know how to plan a date, Jiminie.”

Jimin only raises an eyebrow, unconvinced.

“Jungkook needs someone fun for his first date,” Taehyung cuts in, flipping his hair dramatically as he leans against Jungkook’s shoulder. “And who’s more fun than me?”

“You’re not fun, you’re chaotic,” Seokjin deadpans.

Taehyung gasps, clutching his chest like he’s been personally attacked. “Excuse you! I am the epitome of fun.”

“I should go first!” Hoseok interjects, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll make sure he laughs the whole time.”

“You always make him laugh!” Jimin whines, flailing his arms. “That’s not fair! Jungkookie deserves to be wooed, not just entertained.”

Jungkook just sits there, cheeks burning, his wide eyes darting between them as they argue over him like he’s some sort of grand prize. His hands fidget in his lap as he struggles to process what’s even happening. This… this is about him. They’re fighting for the right to take him on a date. It’s completely surreal, and he has never felt so flustered in his entire life.

“Guys—” he tries, voice small, but no one hears him over the noise.

Finally, Namjoon sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright. There’s only one way to settle this.”

The others pause, turning to look at him. Jungkook watches in confusion as they all exchange glances before nodding in unison.

“Rock, paper, scissors.”

Jungkook blinks. “You’re seriously—”

But they’re already playing.

Hands move in tandem, shouts of “Rock!” “Paper!” “Scissors!” filling the room as they throw their choices with absolute determination.

Jungkook groans, burying his face in his hands.

He’s doomed.

One by one, they fall.

Namjoon goes first, grumbling under his breath as he throws down a losing paper against Seokjin’s well-timed scissors. He sighs, shaking his head like he’s reevaluating his life choices.

Next is Yoongi, who doesn’t react much at all—just gives a small nod of acknowledgment, as if he had already accepted his fate the moment the game began. Seokjin follows soon after, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Taehyung puts up a valiant effort, but when his rock meets Hoseok’s paper, he gasps in betrayal, flopping onto the floor like he’s just been gravely wounded. “I was so close!” he whines dramatically, rolling onto his back.

That leaves only Jimin and Hoseok.

Jungkook swallows hard, his stomach twisting as the two of them square off, their hands raised, eyes locked. The air crackles with anticipation, a tension so thick Jungkook can barely breathe.

This is it.

The final round.

Jimin narrows his eyes, body taut like a predator about to pounce. Hoseok stands tall, confidence radiating from him like sunlight.

“Rock… paper… scissors!”

The hands come down in a flash.

Jimin throws rock.

Hoseok throws paper.

For a moment, there’s silence. Absolute stillness as realization dawns.

Then—

“Yes!!” Hoseok explodes with joy, leaping into the air with a victorious shout. “I win! I win!!”

Jimin lets out a dramatic groan, collapsing onto the couch like his soul has left his body. “Ugh! I almost had it.”

Hoseok doesn’t spare him a glance. He’s already turning, his entire focus shifting to Jungkook, and oh—oh, no.

Jungkook barely has a second to brace himself before Hoseok strides forward, practically glowing with excitement, his grin bright and brilliant, his eyes warm and full of something that makes Jungkook’s stomach flip.

Then, just as easily as breathing, Hoseok reaches out, gently taking Jungkook’s hands in his own.

Jungkook’s breath catches.

Hoseok’s hands are warm—steady and grounding, his palms big and slightly calloused, yet so incredibly gentle as they cradle Jungkook’s own. The simple contact sends a shiver down his spine, his heart pounding so loudly he swears the entire pack can hear it.

The room has gone quiet. The others are watching, but Jungkook barely registers them, too caught up in the way Hoseok is looking at him—soft, sincere, like he’s the only thing that matters in this moment.

Then, Hoseok speaks, his voice warm and filled with affection.

“Jungkookie,” he murmurs, his thumbs brushing lightly over Jungkook’s knuckles. “Will you go on a date with me?”

Jungkook’s heart nearly stops.

No one—no one has ever asked him that before. No one has ever looked at him like this, touched him like this, wanted him like this. It’s overwhelming, dizzying, and Jungkook feels like he’s floating, completely untethered.

And Hoseok—Hoseok is standing so close, eyes so full of something good, something safe, something that makes Jungkook feel like he belongs.

His throat is dry. His face is burning. He swallows hard.

“I—I’d really like that hyung,” he finally manages, voice barely above a whisper.

Hoseok beams.

And before Jungkook can process what’s happening, Hoseok lets out a delighted laugh and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, arms wrapping around him tight. Jungkook barely has time to yelp before he’s being lifted slightly off the floor, his feet dangling as Hoseok rocks them back and forth, laughing into his shoulder.

Jungkook is helpless against it. But just when he thinks it’s over—just as Hoseok starts to pull away—he feels it.

A quick, soft press of lips against his cheek.

Jungkook squeaks.

His entire brain short-circuits. His skin burns where Hoseok kissed him, the warmth spreading all the way down his neck, and he makes an incoherent noise, hands flying up to cover his face as his entire existence combusts.

The pack erupts into laughter.

“Oh my god, Jungkookie, you’re so red!” Jimin cackles, smacking Taehyung’s arm.

“You kissed me,” Jungkook whispers into his hands, voice strangled. “You—You kissed—”

“I kissed you,” Hoseok agrees cheerfully.

Jungkook is going to die.

Jungkook’s whole body locks up, his brain completely short-circuiting as he stares at Hoseok, wide-eyed, face burning so hot he’s surprised he hasn’t burst into flames.

Hoseok only chuckles, the sound warm and soothing, like sunshine filtering through the trees. His hands move in slow, gentle circles over Jungkook’s back, grounding him, keeping him from floating away entirely. Then, as if sensing just how overwhelmed Jungkook is, Hoseok pulls back just slightly—just enough to lift a hand and cup Jungkook’s cheek.

Jungkook barely breathes.

Hoseok’s palm is warm against his skin, his thumb brushing over the heated flush staining Jungkook’s face. His touch is impossibly gentle, reverent in a way that makes Jungkook’s stomach twist.

“Was that okay?” Hoseok asks softly, voice low and careful, like he doesn’t want to startle him.

Jungkook’s heart is pounding so loudly he can barely think, his chest tight, his pulse thrumming in his throat. His lips part on a breathless, “Y-Yeah… It was okay…”

Hoseok’s smile turns impossibly softer, his thumb still grazing over his cheek, slow and affectionate. It sends another shiver down Jungkook’s spine, makes warmth bloom in his chest in a way he doesn’t know how to handle.

In the background, Jimin and Taehyung are melting, practically vibrating with glee.

“They’re so cute,” Jimin whispers, clutching Taehyung’s arm, his eyes sparkling with delight.

“I know,” Taehyung whispers back, practically bouncing in place.

"Well, now that this is all settled, I’ll go ahead and start making dinner!" Seokjin exclaims with a smile,

Jungkook tugs gently at Seokjin’s sleeve, his fingers brushing the fabric as he looks up at him, wide eyes full of hope and a soft eagerness. “Hyung… can I help you cook?” His voice is tentative, yet sincere, as if asking for something important.

Seokjin turns to him, clearly taken by surprise for a moment, but then his lips curl into a fond smile that makes his eyes soften. “You want to help pretty?” he asks, his voice light and amused, yet there’s something in the way he’s looking at Jungkook that makes his heart flutter a little faster.

Jungkook nods earnestly, his gaze unwavering as he watches Seokjin, his tone almost pleading. “I want to be useful,” he says, almost shyly, as though it’s something he’s wanted for a while now but never knew how to ask.

Seokjin’s gaze softens and before Jungkook can react, the beta reaches out and ruffles his hair affectionately. The motion makes Jungkook scrunch his nose in protest, but there’s no denying the warmth blooming in his chest.

“Of course, you can help, cutie,” Seokjin says with a teasing lilt in his voice, the affection clear as day. “I’d love to have an adorable little assistant in my kitchen.” His words are playful, but the way he’s looking at Jungkook—with such fondness—makes Jungkook’s heart flutter wildly.

Jungkook beams at the compliment, the excitement shining in his eyes, but before he can say anything more, Seokjin leans in just a bit closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur that makes Jungkook’s breath catch. “I’ll even give you a pretty apron to match your pretty pink outfit.”

Jungkook blinks, momentarily stunned by the suggestion. “H-Huh?” He stammers, not quite sure if he’s hearing correctly, but the pink flush on his cheeks gives him away as he tries to make sense of what’s happening.

Seokjin grins wider, his eyes sparkling with mischievous delight as his gaze sweeps over Jungkook’s soft pink robes. He takes a moment to look at him, before speaking again, his voice a teasing whisper that lingers in the air. “You look so soft and squishy in it. I just want to eat you up.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, and his face immediately erupts into an even deeper shade of red. His heart races, and he swats at Seokjin’s arm, flustered and stumbling over his words. “Hyung! S-Stop teasing me!”

Seokjin chuckles, utterly unrepentant as he reaches out to pinch Jungkook’s cheek, the touch gentle yet intimate. “Oh, but why would I ever do that?” His voice drops to a playful, almost conspiratorial tone. “I meant it, you know.” He tilts his head slightly, admiring the way Jungkook’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink. “You look so beautiful when you blush.”

Jungkook bites his lip, his embarrassment mounting as he quickly looks away, his heart pounding in his chest. But Seokjin isn’t finished with him yet. Not by a long shot.

“Wanna know a secret?” Seokjin asks, his voice suddenly lower, hushed, as if he’s about to share something private, something just between them. His lips curl into a soft smile, teasing and warm all at once.

Curiosity wins out over his embarrassment, and Jungkook hesitates, then nods almost imperceptibly, unsure of what to expect next but too intrigued to pull away.

Seokjin leans in just a little closer, his breath warm against Jungkook’s ear as he drops his voice into a near whisper. “Your scent gets sweeter whenever you’re flustered.” His words are like a secret, something precious shared only between them.

Jungkook stiffens, his entire body going still as the implication of Seokjin’s words settles in. His heart skips a beat, his ears burning in response to the quiet confession. The weight of it makes his breath hitch, and the blush on his face intensifies to an almost unbearable level.

Seokjin chuckles softly at Jungkook’s bright red ears, his voice now full of delight. “That’s part of the reason we love making you blush, you know. It’s adorable.” His tone is affectionate, but there’s an edge of possessiveness to it that sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine.

Jungkook groans, feeling utterly exposed as Seokjin watches him, thoroughly entertained by the way he’s reacting. He covers his face with his hands, trying to hide his mortification, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays his true feelings.

Seokjin laughs, his voice rich and warm, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on Jungkook. Despite the teasing, despite the warmth creeping down Jungkook’s neck and the way his heart is racing, there’s something undeniably comforting in Seokjin’s attention—something that makes him feel cherished.

And yet, despite everything, Jungkook can’t stop the shy, small smile that tugs at his lips. The warmth in his chest deepens, and for a moment, it feels like everything else fades away, leaving only him and Seokjin in this quiet, intimate space.

And just when he thinks he can’t take any more—when his heart is already a mess, and his face feels like it’s about to combust—Seokjin hums, leaning in slightly, eyes twinkling with mischief as he takes a deep inhale.

“Mmm…See? Right now, you smell so sweet Jungkookie.” His voice drops, smooth and teasing, laced with something knowing. “Edible, even. I can practically taste it on my tongue.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, his breath hitching in his throat, heart slamming against his ribs. “H-Hyung—”

Seokjin only grins, clearly enjoying the reaction. “I can’t wait for you to carry our scents properly,” he continues, as if Jungkook isn’t already on the verge of spontaneous combustion. His voice turns just a little deeper, edged with something unmistakably possessive. “So that everyone—every single shifter—knows you’re ours. Knows to back off.”

Jungkook whimpers. Actually whimpers.

Seokjin lets out a satisfied chuckle before finally taking mercy on him, reaching out to grab his hand. His grip is firm yet gentle as he tugs Jungkook toward the kitchen, guiding him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Jungkook stumbles after him, dazed, his entire body still burning from the beta’s words.

Once inside, Seokjin strolls over to a nearby hook and pulls down a pink apron decorated with tiny white hearts. He turns back to Jungkook with an unmistakably pleased expression, holding it up like a prize.

“Here. This is perfect for you.”

Jungkook blinks. His brain is still catching up. “It’s… pink.”

Seokjin snorts, clearly unimpressed with his hesitation. “Of course it’s pink. It matches your outfit. And it’s adorable—just like you.”

Jungkook makes a strangled sound, face heating all over again.

There’s no escape.

Jungkook is about to protest when Seokjin steps closer, his movements smooth and unceremonious as he slips the apron over Jungkook’s head. The fabric brushes against Jungkook’s skin, and his breath catches in his throat, his entire body going rigid. Seokjin’s fingers graze the back of his neck as he adjusts the strings, the soft touch making Jungkook’s skin prickle. He watches in stunned silence as Seokjin moves lower, his hands sliding around his’s waist.

Jungkook can’t breathe. His throat tightens, and his heart beats erratically in his chest, almost choking on the air around him.

Seokjin takes his time tying the apron’s strings, his hands lingering far too long at Jungkook’s sides, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric, sending little jolts of heat racing through Jungkook’s body. “There,” Seokjin murmurs, his voice much lower now, a quiet satisfaction threading through his words. “Perfect.”

Jungkook is certain his brain has short-circuited at this point. His entire body feels like it’s on fire, his skin humming with Seokjin’s lingering presence.

Seokjin steps back slightly, his eyes scanning Jungkook, taking in every detail with an undeniably pleased expression. “Ahh, so cute,” he coos, his voice a playful lilt. “This look really does make my wolf happy.” The admiration in his gaze is evident, and Jungkook feels his heart stutter in his chest as he struggles to maintain his composure.

Jungkook swallows hard, his face glowing a deep red as his words catch in his throat. “H-Hyung—”

Seokjin, completely unfazed, brushes off the moment and continues, “Now, let’s get to work.” He turns toward the counter and begins placing a variety of ingredients in front of Jungkook, his movements fluid and sure. “Chop these for me, will you?”

Jungkook, still struggling to process everything that just happened, can only nod weakly. His fingers tremble as he reaches for the knife, his mind a fog of confusion and heat.

By the time they finish, the kitchen is filled with the rich aroma of a feast that is far more than Jungkook ever expected. He stares at the sheer number of dishes spread out before him, his mouth slightly agape. “Hyung… this is a lot.”

Seokjin wipes his hands on a towel, looking far too pleased with himself, as if he’s been planning this all along. “Of course it is. Cooking should always be done with excess in mind. Leftovers are a blessing.”

Jungkook huffs out a quiet laugh, his stomach betraying him with a soft, audible grumble of approval. Seokjin hears it instantly, his smirk widening. “See? Even your belly agrees with me.”

Before Jungkook can respond, Seokjin steps closer again, his movements so natural it feels like an extension of his presence. His hands reach out with practiced ease, and in one smooth motion, he unties the apron around Jungkook’s waist, slipping it off gently. As he does, his fingers graze against the small of Jungkook’s back, a fleeting touch that sends a shiver racing up his spine.

“There,” Seokjin murmurs, his voice soft and warm, his hand brushing Jungkook’s cheek with a tender touch. “Thank you for your help, little assistant.” His eyes soften even further, something fond flickering in his gaze. “You’re welcome in my kitchen anytime.”

Jungkook smiles, really smiles this time, big and bright, the warmth in his chest blooming at the soft affection in Seokjin’s words. A playful boldness takes over him then, a sudden spark of mischief lighting in his eyes. Without thinking twice, he steps forward, wrapping his arms around Seokjin’s waist, pressing his body into the beta’s warmth. The gesture feels natural, comforting, and something inside him stirs as he feels Seokjin’s solid presence.

Seokjin stills for half a second, the air around them charged with a strange, electric tension. Then, just as Jungkook is about to pull away, strong arms encircle him, holding him close. The shift is subtle, but Jungkook feels it—the way Seokjin’s body tenses slightly, the warmth of his embrace tightening just enough to be felt, his grip firm but just shy of protective.

When Seokjin speaks again, his voice is lower, huskier, the words thick with something Jungkook can’t quite place. “Careful, Jungkook-ah,” he murmurs, his breath warm and soft against the top of Jungkook’s head. “My wolf likes it when you touch me on your own like that. A little too much.” His words hang in the air like a warning, a quiet claim.

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat, his breath catching in his throat as the weight of Seokjin’s words sinks in. The warmth of Seokjin’s embrace feels different now—more intense, more possessive—and Jungkook, caught in the moment, doesn’t know how to respond as his heart skips a beat.

Seokjin’s hold lingers for a few seconds longer before he finally pulls back, exhaling through his nose with a soft chuckle. “You’re going to be the death of me, just like Minnie and Taehyungie.”

Jungkook, utterly flustered but still feeling oddly giddy, grins up at him, his lips curling into a playful smile. “That’s what you get for teasing me all the time.”

Seokjin snorts, the sound light and teasing. “Brat,” he mutters affectionately, but his eyes are warm—so warm. The kind of warmth that makes Jungkook’s chest tighten in a way he can’t explain. Maybe, just maybe, Jungkook likes that warmth more than he realizes.

Seokjin gives Jungkook a little nudge toward the dining room, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Go on, start bringing the dishes out. We’re almost ready to eat.”

Jungkook nods, still feeling the warmth of Seokjin’s gaze lingering on him. He carefully picks up the first set of plates, each one feeling heavier in his hands with the weight of his thoughts. But the moment he steps inside the dining room, he freezes in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. His eyes widen in surprise.

The table is set—no, not just set—decorated beautifully. Soft candlelight flickers across the surface, casting a warm, golden glow over the arrangement of plates, utensils, and woven placemats. A simple but elegant centerpiece sits in the middle, an arrangement of winterberries and dried flowers that makes the entire setting feel... special. Magical, even.

Jungkook gasps, his lips parting in awe, the unexpected beauty of the scene filling him with wonder. This isn’t just a regular meal—it’s something far more than that. It feels like a celebration.

Before he can react further, Hoseok appears at his side, effortlessly taking the plates from his hands. “You’ve done enough, sweetie,” he says, his voice full of warmth and affection. “Go sit down with Minnie and Taehyungie.”

Jungkook hesitates for only a moment, still processing the surprise of the beautifully set table, before nodding. He turns, making his way toward the long wooden table, where Jimin and Taehyung are already seated. The moment he approaches, both omegas shift in their chairs, scooting closer to make space for him between them.

Jungkook barely has time to settle in before he feels it—Jimin’s arm pressing against his on one side, Taehyung’s thigh brushing his on the other. They’ve moved so close, their body heat surrounding him, their scents mingling with his own. It’s comforting, grounding, but also, unexpectedly, it makes his stomach flutter with a strange kind of nervous excitement.

As soon as the last dish is placed on the table, the alphas waste no time. Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Seokjin all reach for plates, their movements practiced and efficient as they begin piling food high. Jungkook blinks, watching them, a soft smile tugging at his lips. There’s no hesitation, no question about who’s getting served first.

The first plate, overflowing with a generous portion of everything, is placed directly in front of Jungkook. Then, without missing a beat, the next two are handed to Jimin and Taehyung.

Jungkook looks down at his plate, feeling a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. There’s so much food—more than he could ever finish in one sitting. But he knows exactly why they’ve done it. The hyungs are trying to feed them as much as possible, making sure they eat well, making sure they’re taken care of.

His heart clenches, overwhelmed by the quiet love and care that surrounds him. It’s too much, in the best possible way.

So, instead of protesting, instead of saying it’s too much, Jungkook simply picks up his utensils, glancing up at the alphas with a soft, grateful smile. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, but sincere.

Namjoon grins, dimples deepening. “Eat well, Jungkook-ah.”

And just like that, surrounded by his pack—his new family—Jungkook feels something settle inside him. Something safe. Something right.

The meal is warm, both in atmosphere and in the way the food settles comfortably in Jungkook’s stomach. The conversation flows easily around the table, everyone slipping into familiar rhythms as they speak about different topic.

Hoseok starts first, his voice bright as he gushes about the pups at school. “They’re doing so well! You should’ve seen little Daeyeon the other day—he wrote his name perfectly for the first time, and I swear he almost tackled me in excitement.” His smile is infectious, eyes shining with pride. “It’s moments like that that make all the work worth it.”

Jungkook smiles softly, his heart swelling with the warmth of the moment, feeling completely at ease in a way he never has before.

Seokjin huffed dramatically, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. “That’s cute and all, but I was arguing again with Elder Minseok because he still won’t believe me when I say I didn’t break his fishing rod.” He looked pointedly at the table, lips pursed. “I borrowed it, sure, but it was already cracked when I got it. He just refuses to admit that his precious rod is getting old.”

Namjoon chuckled, shaking his head. “You do have a bit of a reputation for breaking things, hyung.”

Seokjin gasped in mock offense. “Excuse you, I do not. That’s slander.”

The rest of the table laughed, and Namjoon lifted his hands in surrender before seamlessly shifting the conversation to a more serious topic. “Anyway, we reinforced the surveillance at the border,” he informed them, his tone calm but firm. “We added a few new traps in the northern sector—just in case. The patrol teams will be rotating shifts more frequently now.”

Yoongi, who had been sipping his tea, hummed at that before adding, “I was actually thinking of planting new flowers near the south entrance.” He swirled his drink absently, as if already picturing it. “Something vibrant, something that’ll bloom even as the season changes.”

Jimin perked up beside Jungkook, eyes shining. “Oh! Speaking of changes, I found a new book I have to read. It’s about an omega warrior from an ancient pack who—”

“I saw a really pretty robe at the market the other day,” Taehyung interrupted, cutting Jimin off with a dreamy sigh. “It was deep blue with silver embroidery. I need it.”

Jungkook listens to them all with quiet awe, taking in the easy way they speak to one another. The way they fill the space with their voices, their presence, their warmth. He doesn’t feel the need to speak—he’s happy just being here, among them, feeling lucky.
So lucky.

And then—just when he thinks he can relax, just when he thinks he can ignore the way his heart pounds every time he remembers that they’re all courting him—Jimin suddenly turns to him with a sly smile.

“So,” Jimin says, drawing the word out playfully. “I was thinking about what Jungkookie told me earlier.”

Jungkook stiffens immediately, already sensing trouble.

Jimin’s grin widens. “About how Kyungmin was trying to make us jealous by twirling him around like he belonged to him, by touching his waist, dancing with him…”

Jungkook nearly chokes on his drink.

Across the table, all movement stills. The hyungs, who had been relaxed just moments ago, suddenly turn their attention toward Jungkook.

Oh no.

The atmosphere at the table shifts in an instant. Conversations halt, chopsticks pause mid-air, and every pair of eyes turns toward Jungkook. He tenses under the weight of their stares, his heart pounding as he realizes what Jimin has just revealed.

Namjoon is the first to react, exhaling sharply as he sets his cup down with a firm thud. His brows furrow, lips parting slightly in disbelief. “What?.” He blinks at Jungkook. “Kyungmin did that on purpose? He's lucky to still be alive.”

Yoongi, who has been resting his elbow on the table, sits up straighter. His dark eyes narrow slightly, and he tilts his head. “You’re telling me… he was all over you to get a reaction out of us? I can't believ it. I was this close to just ripping you away from him.” There’s something dark in his tone—something that makes Jungkook’s stomach flip.

Seokjin lets out an incredulous scoff, setting his chopsticks down dramatically. “Oh, so he knew what he was doing.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “I thought he was trying to challenge us, but no—he was just trying to make us jealous? I don't know what's worse. He knew you were ours and still decided to touch you like that?”

Hoseok lets out a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn.” He shakes his head, a mix of amusement and irritation flickering in his expression. “That little shit. No wonder he was grinning like that. I wanted to rip that stupid smile off his face so bad.”

Taehyung, who has been leaning against Jungkook’s side, huffs and crosses his arms. “I'm not even surprised. I just knew something was up,” he mutters. “The way he twirled you around like that—ugh.” His pout deepens, brows furrowing. “That should’ve been us.”

Jimin, looking all too pleased with himself, smirks as he nudges Jungkook. “Well, it worked. It definitely did.” 

Jungkook groans, covering his face with both hands. “Can we not talk about this?” he mumbles, his entire body burning with embarrassment.

Namjoon sighs, shaking his head. “I knew I didn’t like how close he was standing.” He runs a hand through his hair before glancing at Jungkook. “If we’d known he was doing it on purpose, we would’ve stepped in sooner.”

Seokjin hums, tapping his fingers against the table. “Well, no need to worry now. We’ll be making up for it.” He sends Jungkook a pointed look, his lips curling into a smirk.

Jungkook peeks through his fingers just in time to see the alphas and betas exchanging looks—ones that make his stomach flip. He swallows hard, his heart racing.

Somehow… he has a feeling this isn’t over.

Jungkook shifts in his seat, still flustered from the conversation about Kyungmin, while the hyungs continue to grumble amongst themselves.

"I knew he was being too bold," Yoongi mutters, tapping his fingers against his thigh. "But to find out he meant to rile us up? Tch." His sharp gaze softens when it lands on Jungkook, but there's still a hint of possessiveness there.

Seokjin sighs dramatically, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we let that slide. I should’ve twirled you around first.” He huffs. “At least then I wouldn’t have had to watch someone else do it.”

Namjoon chuckles, though his dimples can’t quite hide his lingering irritation. “Well, now we know better.” He looks at Jungkook, his voice gentler. “Next time, we’ll make sure you have the best dances.”

Hoseok leans closer, his signature grin back on his face. “Forget dancing—what if we just carried you around all night?” His eyes twinkle with mischief. “That way, no one else would even think about touching you.”

Jimin and Taehyung nod sagely, looking entirely too serious. “Sounds reasonable,” Jimin muses. “If Kyungmin wants to make us jealous, we’ll just make everyone else jealous instead.”

Jungkook groans, feeling his face heat up. “Can we not—”

But before he can finish, something clicks in his mind. A memory resurfaces—Halmeoni’s words.

He hesitates, fingers fidgeting in his lap before finally speaking. “Um… actually, I had a question.”

The hyungs quiet immediately, their attention shifting to him.

Jungkook swallows. “Halmeoni said something to me. She told me that I smelled different.” He looks down, tugging on the sleeve of his sweater. “That I smelled like you.”

A brief silence falls over the table.

Jungkook bites his lip before continuing. “She said that you had… scented me?” He looks up, eyes wide with curiosity. “What does that mean?”

The pause stretches just a second longer before Namjoon exhales through his nose, a small smile playing on his lips. “Scenting…” He glances around at the others, who give him small nods, silently agreeing to let him explain. “It means putting your scent on someone else so they smell like you.”

Jungkook blinks. “Why?”

“There are different reasons,” Yoongi adds. “It’s done between family members, close friends… or lovers.” His voice is steady, but there’s something in the way he says that last word that makes Jungkook’s heartbeat pick up.

“There are also different levels of scenting,” Seokjin chimes in. “The most common is using your wrists.” He reaches out and taps Jungkook’s wrist lightly. “It’s casual—something even friends do. That’s what we did.”

“But the neck,” Hoseok continues, his voice softer now, “is the most intimate.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “Why?”

Namjoon’s expression turns serious, but his voice remains gentle. “Because to be scented there, you have to bare your neck to someone. It’s an incredibly vulnerable gesture for a wolf—it shows submission and trust.”

Yoongi nods. “Shifters don’t just bare their necks to anyone. It means something.”

Namjoon is the first to speak, his voice warm and steady. “We scented you when you had your nightmare.”

Jungkook blinks, thinking back to that moment—waking up wrapped in warmth, the comforting weight of Namjoon and Yoongi beside him.

“It was instinct,” Yoongi adds, rubbing the back of his neck. “You were upset, and we just… did it. On your wrists, mostly, to help calm you down.”

Jungkook glances down at his hands, fingers brushing against his wrists as if he can still feel their touch. “Oh.”

“But since we slept together the whole night,” Namjoon continues, tilting his head, “our scent must have clung to you.” He leans in slightly, eyes flickering with amusement. “And it’s still there now.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches. “It is?”

The hyungs nod.

“We like it,” Hoseok admits, smiling.

Jungkook frowns in confusion. “Why?”

At that, the alphas exchange glances. It’s rare to see them hesitate, but Jungkook swears they look almost… flustered.

“Well,” Namjoon starts, clearing his throat, “it’s… territorial.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “Territorial?”

Yoongi exhales through his nose, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “When someone carries our scent, it makes us feel like they belong to us in a way. It’s all instincts.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly. “So, because I smell like you, you feel like I…” He trails off, feeling his face heat up.

“Like you’re ours,” Hoseok finishes, matter-of-factly, then grins when Jungkook makes a small noise of protest.

“It also lets others know we’re close,” Seokjin adds, watching Jungkook’s reaction carefully. “It’s not just about claiming—it’s about connection.”

“We scent each other every day,” Jimin says, smiling. “It’s normal for packmates.”

Taehyung nods. “It makes us feel good—knowing we carry each other’s scents.”

Jungkook is quiet for a moment, absorbing everything they’re saying. The idea of carrying their scents—of them carrying his—feels strangely intimate. Warm.

“…Oh,” he murmurs, his voice small.

The hyungs smile at his expression, clearly endeared.

“Exactly,” Namjoon murmurs, watching him fondly.

Jungkook’s voice wavers with uncertainty as he glances up at the hyungs, his heart beating just a little faster. His earlier question still lingers in the air, and despite the reassurance they’ve given him, a part of him can’t shake the doubt. He chews on his bottom lip, hesitant to ask more. He isn’t sure if it’s too much, too soon.

“Will… will you scent me every day too?” he asks quietly, his eyes darting between the hyungs. His fingers fidget in his lap as the thought of them doing something so intimate every day both comforts and embarrasses him. It’s a big step, and he isn’t sure if they want to continue it like that.

The moment the words leave his mouth, Jungkook feels his heart sink a little, nerves coiling tightly in his chest. Maybe it’s too much. Maybe he’s asking for something they don’t want.

But the silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable. It’s warm, and though he can’t see it, he can feel the hyungs exchanging looks, their thoughts mirroring his own in a way.

Finally, it’s Namjoon who speaks, his voice calm and reassuring. “That’s your choice, Jungkook-ah,” he says gently, his deep voice wrapping around him like a blanket. “We’ll do what you’re comfortable with.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow, and he feels a little more nervous. His heart skips in his chest, and he hesitates before his insecurities bubble to the surface. “Do you… not want to scent me every day?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper, the words dripping with vulnerability.

The hyungs freeze for a moment, surprised by his question. Jungkook’s heart skips a beat as they all turn to him, eyes softening in unison. His breath catches as they all seem to realize his worry.

“No, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi says softly, his tone deep with affection. “We like the idea of scenting you. A lot. More than we probably should.” There’s a teasing edge to his voice, but it’s full of warmth, and Jungkook can tell Yoongi is being sincere.

Hoseok, ever the energetic one, grins brightly, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. “We’re more than happy to scent you, Jungkookie,” he says with a playful wink. “You just let us know when you want it.”

Jungkook feels the heat rise in his face as his chest flutters with warmth. He wants to carry their scents, wants to be close to them in this way, but asking for it has made him so shy. Hearing them say it so casually, without hesitation, makes him feel like he has nothing to fear. They really do want this.

Jungkook’s heart hammers in his chest as he finally gathers the courage to ask, “Do you want to scent me now?” His voice is small, tentative. He’s ready for it, even if it makes him nervous. He wants to feel like he belongs to them in every way possible.

The room seems to pause, the question hanging in the air, and for a moment, Jungkook wonders if he’s made things awkward. But then he sees the way the hyungs look at him—soft, tender, and filled with warmth. Their eyes hold no hesitation, only affection.

Namjoon is the first to speak again, his voice steady, though his gaze is full of emotion. “Is that something you want, Jungkook-ah?” he asks, his words careful but affectionate, as if making sure Jungkook truly feels ready for what they’re about to do.

Jungkook feels his heart swell as he nods slowly, his breath quickening with the overwhelming emotions rushing through him. “Yes,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “I want to carry your scents on me. I want to be close to you. I want to belong with you.”

The words feel like they come from the deepest part of his heart. It’s true—he wants to belong to them. He wants to be theirs, to feel the comfort and safety of their scents wrapped around him every day.

The hyungs exchange looks once more, their faces full of affection, and without another word, they begin to move closer. Jungkook’s heart races in his chest, his pulse quickening as they each approach him, a sense of warmth flooding through him.

Namjoon is the first to step forward, his large hand reaching out to gently touch Jungkook’s wrist. The moment he scents him, Jungkook can feel a deep sense of connection, a soft warmth that settles in his chest. Namjoon’s scent—earthy and warm—wraps around him like a protective embrace.

“You’re ours now, Jungkook-ah, we'll take care of you.” Namjoon whispers, his voice low and sincere as his scent mingles with Jungkook’s, leaving a mark that feels both soothing and grounding.

Yoongi follows closely behind, his touch light but firm as he places his scent on Jungkook’s other wrist. “We’re not letting you go pup,” Yoongi murmurs, his words holding a promise, a deep affection that makes Jungkook’s heart swell with joy.

Seokjin is next, his touch gentle and almost reverent as he scents Jungkook. The soft pressure of his hand makes Jungkook shiver, and Seokjin smiles warmly. “You’re perfect like this, Jungkookie,” he says softly. “You’re ours now.”

Hoseok moves in next, his hands light but strong as he places scents him too. “You’re ours, sweetie,” he whispers, the words carrying an intensity that makes Jungkook’s heart race even faster. He can feel Hoseok’s love wrapping around him like a blanket, and it feels so right.

Jimin is playful as ever, his fingers gentle as he scents him, his voice filled with joy. “You belong with us, Kookie,” he says, a teasing edge to his tone, but underneath, there’s so much affection.

Finally, Taehyung steps forward, his touch light but firm. “You’ve always been ours,” Taehyung whispers, his words barely audible but heavy with meaning.

Jungkook sits there, his entire body flushed with warmth as the hyungs’ scents mingle around him. He feels dizzy with joy, overwhelmed by the tenderness they’re showing him. They’ve marked him, made him theirs in that way, and in that moment, he feels more at home than he ever has before. He is theirs. He belongs with them, and nothing could make him feel more complete.

Jungkook feels the world begin to blur, a soft, dizzying haze clouding his mind as the warmth of the hyungs' scents settle deep within his senses. His skin tingles, like each breath he takes is laced with something heady and intoxicating.

The earthy musk of Namjoon, the cool calm of Yoongi, the soothing sweetness of Seokjin, the bright energy of Hoseok, the soft tenderness of Jimin, and the deep, comforting presence of Taehyung—it’s all around him. Their scents wrap around him like a blanket, cocooning him in their warmth. It’s overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

His head feels light, as if it’s floating, disconnected from his body but in the most pleasant sense. He hears Namjoon’s voice, but it sounds distant, almost muffled, like it’s coming from far away. His eyelids flutter, heavy with the comfort of their scent, and before he realizes it, his eyes slide closed.

He’s not sure when he lost focus, but everything feels so warm, so right, and he can’t find the strength to open his eyes again. The room around him seems to melt away, his thoughts scattered like leaves in a breeze.

Then, a soft scent envelops him, stronger than the others, and he knows it’s Namjoon. The alpha’s warmth radiates through the air like a steady, grounding force. Jungkook feels his body lift effortlessly, and before he can even fully process what’s happening, he’s gently placed on someone’s lap.

Namjoon’s lap. His breath hitches at the sudden closeness, his heart racing just a little, but it’s a good kind of racing, like his body has been wired to respond to the alpha’s presence.

“Open your eyes for me, baby,” Namjoon’s voice is soft, coaxing, full of warmth and care.

Jungkook’s chest flutters, and he slowly, almost reluctantly, opens his eyes, wanting to please the alpha, wanting to be good for him. The world still feels hazy, like he’s floating just above it, but he can see Namjoon’s face—his steady gaze, the way his lips curl slightly as he looks at him with fondness.

“You’re a little scent drunk, aren’t you, hum?” Namjoon’s words are gentle, teasing but laced with affection, his hand coming up to gently brush a strand of hair from Jungkook’s face. The touch is so soft, so tender, and it makes Jungkook’s chest tighten with the overwhelming urge to melt into the alpha’s arms.

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, his body trembling slightly as he makes a soft, breathy sound, finding it harder to form words. Everything feels so heavy, his head spinning as the thick, comforting scent of the hyungs wraps around him like a warm, smothering blanket.

The overwhelming wave of warmth and familiarity makes his heart race, his chest tight with the feeling of being completely consumed by their presence. He can barely focus, his mind hazy, and he can only grip Namjoon’s shoulders tighter, desperately trying to ground himself.

Namjoon’s voice is soft but steady, guiding him through the sensation. “It’s okay, Jungkookie. This can happen when you're being scented. Your body’s still adjusting to all these new scents around you. Your senses are still fresh. It’s overwhelming, I know.” His words are calming, soothing like the softest lullaby, but it only makes Jungkook feel more vulnerable. He can’t respond. The gentle pressure in his chest grows, and his body shivers from the sheer intimacy of it all.

A small whimper escapes his lips, his hands gripping Namjoon’s broad shoulders tighter, seeking stability in the alpha’s solid presence. It’s like everything around him is swirling, spinning, but Namjoon’s scent, strong and grounding, keeps him anchored. Jungkook wants to be good, wants to handle it, but it feels so much. Too much.

Namjoon’s voice dips low, almost a rumble, as he speaks again, but this time there’s something different in it—admiration, perhaps, or something more tender. “You have no idea how you look right now, pup. How good you smell.” He pauses, just long enough for Jungkook to feel the weight of his words. “You look so soft, so pliant… so vulnerable.”

Jungkook’s face flushes crimson at the sound of the hyungs’ teasing voices, their words slipping through the haze, like soft whispers in the distance. He can hear Jimin’s playful laugh, Taehyung’s low chuckle, and Hoseok’s gentle teasing, all wrapped around him, but it’s Namjoon’s words that stay with him, settling in his chest like a soft, fluttering ache.

They’re all so close, their scent so thick in the air, making his body hum with the connection between them.

The teasing continues, their voices like a sweet melody that makes Jungkook’s face burn hotter, his chest tightening with embarrassment. He feels like he’s glowing, like every inch of his body is a beacon, vulnerable and exposed in the most intimate way. It feels too much, too real, and yet it makes him feel cherished in ways he can’t explain.

Blushing even more deeply, Jungkook buries his face in the crook of Namjoon’s neck, unable to handle the attention any longer. He wants to hide, to melt into the safety of the alpha’s scent, but as soon as he does, he realizes just how much more overwhelming it becomes.

Namjoon’s scent is thick there, a rich blend of musk and warmth, and it envelops him completely. The realization makes him shiver, and he pulls back slightly, but only to hide his face further, his hands shaking as he clings to Namjoon’s shirt.

The alpha’s scent is so strong, it’s intoxicating, and Jungkook can’t stop the soft, flustered gasp that escapes him. The way Namjoon’s scent fills his lungs makes everything feel more intense, more real, and it’s all too much for his overwhelmed senses. But even through it all, he feels safe.

Namjoon’s hands gently cup Jungkook’s face, his thumb softly brushing over the younger’s flushed cheeks. “Shh, It’s alright,” he murmurs, his voice tender, coaxing him to meet his gaze. “You’re not alone. We’re all here.”

Jungkook can only nod, his body trembling in the most pleasant, overwhelming way, but the warmth of their care wraps around him, slowly making him feel steady again. He’s not alone. They’re here.

Jungkook’s mind is still clouded, his senses heavy and fuzzy from the overwhelming scenting, and everything feels distant, like he’s floating. He tries to gather the energy to stand, but his legs feel weak beneath him. He wobbles slightly, swaying in Namjoon’s arms, before he attempts to move away.

Namjoon, ever steady, doesn’t let him go. His grip tightens just enough to hold Jungkook securely, but not too tight to make him uncomfortable. “Where do you think you’re going, hum?” The alpha’s voice is soft, but there’s an unmistakable command behind it, a gentle authority that Jungkook can’t deny.

Jungkook blinks up at him, his head still spinning from the heady mix of scents surrounding him. “I… I thought I should go back to the infirmary,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper.

Namjoon shakes his head with a soft chuckle, a hint of amusement in his gaze. “You’re not going anywhere in this state,” he says, his voice warm and protective. “You can sleep here. You’ll be fine.”

Jungkook’s heart flutters with the notion, but before he can say anything, the others start teasing, their voices light but filled with affectionate teasing.

“Oh, Joonie just wants to keep Jungkook-ah with him,” Hoseok teases, his grin wide.

“Yeah, he doesn’t want him leaving at all,” Taehyung adds, his tone playful as he nudges Yoongi.

Namjoon doesn’t argue, not even a little bit. Instead, he simply stands up, cradling Jungkook in his arms like he’s the most precious thing in the world. Jungkook could protest, but his head is so floaty, the dizziness still clinging to him, and he just lets himself be carried, feeling a warmth he hadn’t known he needed.

The omegas, move closer, their expressions turning soft and eager. “Please, hyungie,” Jimin urges, his voice filled with sweetness. “Let Jungkookie sleep with us tonight. We’ll make a nest in the guestroom, and all three of us can sleep in it together.” His eyes sparkle, the excitement evident on his face.

Jungkook’s brow furrows in confusion at the mention of a “nest.” He isn’t entirely sure what that means, but he doesn’t have the energy to ask. The only thing he knows is that the idea of being with them, of being close to Jimin and Taehyung, feels so comforting, so right.

Namjoon, watching Jungkook carefully, then asks, his voice gentle, “Would you like to sleep with Taehyungie and Jiminie, pup?”

Jungkook’s response comes out as a soft, whiny sound, his body sinking into the alpha’s hold. His chest tightens with the emotions he can’t fully process, and his mind buzzes with a mixture of vulnerability and warmth.

He nods, his eyes soft and a little unsure, but his trust in them so apparent. “Yes… I wanna sleep with them... please” he says, his voice barely a whisper.

Namjoon smiles, a tender, almost protective smile.

“Alright, then. Let’s go get you settled baby.”

Notes:

Heyyy!! 😊

Yayyy, so now the hyungs know their adorable human accepted their courting offer (well, Vmin’s offer, hehe 😏)! 💖 I bet they’ll be way more bold from here on out! 😏🔥
And omg, Jin’s teasing?? I can’t even with that! 😂 I’d probably just combust from the heat of it all! 💥🔥

See y’all ! ✨👋

Chapter 31: Wrapped in Comfort

Summary:

Just Jungkook and Vmin enjoying some cozy, quality time together in their nest

Namjoon’s arms are strong and steady around him, holding him close as he carries him through the house. Jungkook can still feel the lingering effects of the heady scents that had overwhelmed him earlier, but here, wrapped in Namjoon’s warmth, they don’t feel as suffocating. Instead, they settle around him like a weighted blanket, heavy but not unbearable. There’s something grounding about the way the alpha holds him, something that keeps him from drifting too far into his own head. His heart is still racing, but not from fear. Not anymore. It’s something softer now, something warmer.

As they approach the guest room, Jungkook catches the faintest scent of Taehyung and Jimin waiting inside. The comforting mix of their familiar scents—sweet cherries, soft raspberries—filters through the air, wrapping around him in a way that makes his chest ache with something indescribable. He’s not sure why he feels so drawn to their scents, but it feels like coming home. He's also confused about all of this. Why does his hyungs' scent overwhelm him? And why is he, a human, so deeply affected by all of this? 

The moment they step into the guest room, the overwhelming weight of everything seems to lessen. The thick, dizzying haze that had clouded his senses starts to lift, the intensity dulling to something gentler. His mind still feels heightened, attuned to every little shift in the air, every flicker of movement from the omegas already inside. But the sheer weight of it all no longer presses so heavily against his chest.

Namjoon kneels down carefully, lowering him onto the floor with ease, but he doesn’t let go just yet. His arm lingers around Jungkook’s shoulders, a silent reassurance that he’s still there, still watching over him, just in case he needs him. The warmth of it is comforting, steadying.

The room itself is different from the rest of the house—calmer, quieter. It doesn’t hold the same charged atmosphere as the living room had. Instead, it feels… peaceful. The air here is softer, filled only with the gentle scents of the omegas rather than the heady mix of the whole pack. Jungkook breathes in slowly, letting it settle inside his chest.

Namjoon squeezes his shoulder gently before pulling back. He looks down at him with a fond, knowing smile, one that holds a playful glint despite the softness in his expression. “I’ll let you two get settled and prepare the nest,” he says to Jimin and Taehyung, his voice low, warm, teasing. Then, without another word, he steps out, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

Jungkook barely has a moment to process before the omegas spring into action.

Jimin moves first, heading straight for the dresser with a purposeful energy. His movements are quick, practiced, like he already knows exactly what he’s looking for. Jungkook watches, still feeling a little dazed, as Jimin pulls out a neatly folded set of pajamas. He holds them up with a proud grin, and Jungkook immediately feels his face heat up when he sees the embroidered bunnies decorating the pink fabric.

“You get this one because you look just like a cute bunny,” Jimin says cheerfully, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Jungkook’s ears burn, his fingers curling slightly as he hesitantly takes the pajamas from Jimin’s outstretched hands. The fabric is soft against his skin, plush and warm, clearly chosen with care. He swallows, feeling oddly shy under their expectant gazes.

“…Thank you,” he murmurs, voice quiet but sincere.

Jimin’s grin widens, and Taehyung hums approvingly from where he’s already started arranging blankets on the bed. 

The room slowly transforms into something entirely different. Blankets are piled high, draped across the bed and spilling onto the floor in soft, inviting layers. Pillows are scattered everywhere, arranged with practiced precision to create the perfect cocoon of warmth and comfort. It looks… safe. It looks like something built with care, something meant to shield against the cold and the dark.

Jungkook hesitates, unsure of what to say. His fingers fidget with the edge of his sleeve as he finally forces the words out.

“…What are you doing?” His voice comes out smaller than he intended, his uncertainty creeping into his tone.

Jimin looks up from where he’s fluffing a pillow, his expression bright and open. “We’re making a nest for us,” he says simply, as if that explains everything.

Jungkook blinks. A nest. He’s heard this word, but he doesn’t know what it is really. But seeing it up close, it feels… intimate.

Taehyung flops onto the bed with a sigh, burying his face into one of the blankets. “It needs to smell like us,” he murmurs, his voice slightly muffled by the fabric. “Like pack. Like home.”

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat.

Like home.

He watches as they move with ease, as if they’ve done this a thousand times before. There’s a practiced rhythm to it, a familiarity in the way they arrange each blanket, in the way they press their faces into the fabric to leave traces of their scent behind. It’s something instinctual, something deeply ingrained in them. And Jungkook… Jungkook doesn’t know how to fit into it.

His fingers tighten around the hem of his shirt. He licks his lips, hesitating before he finally asks, “Do you… do you always sleep like this?”

Jimin nods, his hands smoothing over the fabric of a particularly soft-looking blanket. “Omegas nest when we need comfort. When we feel safe.” He glances at Jungkook then, his gaze gentle, understanding. 

Jimin and Taehyung share a look, something soft passing between them before they both turn their attention back to him. Taehyung pats the space beside him, his expression warm, inviting. “Come here, Kookie,” he says, voice low and coaxing.

Jungkook hesitates for only a second longer before stepping forward. Because even if he doesn’t fully understand it yet—even if there’s a part of him that still feels unsure—there’s something about the way they’re looking at him, something about the warmth of their voices and the softness of the nest that makes him want to listen to them, like he needs to listen to them.

So he does.

Jungkook shakes his head, suddenly unsure of himself, his heart thudding in his chest. He’s always been alone at night, curled up in his bed with nothing but his own body for warmth. He’s used to the cold, the chill of his own skin against the sheets, the loneliness that lingers in the quiet of the dark.

His hands are usually tucked close to his chest, holding himself together in a way that feels like a necessity—his own warmth the only thing keeping him from the biting cold that never seems to let go. The idea of sharing that warmth, of sleeping surrounded by others, feels so foreign to him. He’s never known it, never craved it. It’s something entirely new, something that feels like it belongs to someone else.

But even so, there’s a strange, soft pull inside him at the thought.

The warmth of Jimin’s voice reaches him, and Jungkook’s breath catches. Jimin must see something in his expression, something flickering in his eyes that speaks of uncertainty, of hesitation, and so his voice softens, wrapping around Jungkook like a gentle hand. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Kookie,” he says, as though giving Jungkook permission to pull away if he needs to.

But Jungkook doesn’t pull away. He’s not sure what’s happening, not sure what this feeling in his chest is—this longing, this ache to be part of something, to be wanted by them. His gaze flickers from Jimin to Taehyung, who is curled up on the bed, a picture of contentment, his features soft and relaxed.

The bed, the nest, the warmth—everything about it instinctively calls to him. There’s a longing deep inside that he doesn’t understand, a quiet whisper that feels like it’s coming from his very soul. His chest aches at the thought of being a part of this, of having a place in something that feels like it’s built just for him.

“…I want to,” Jungkook murmurs, his voice quieter than he expects. It’s a soft admission, a fragile thing that trembles as it leaves his lips. But it’s true. He wants to be a part of this. He wants to be held, to be close, to feel safe in the warmth of their presence. He’s never had that before, and now, here, it’s so close, so tangible. He can almost reach out and touch it.

Jimin’s face lights up at his words, his eyes bright and full of affection. The smile that spreads across his face is soft, filled with warmth, and it makes Jungkook’s heart swell in his chest. Jimin reaches for him, his hand gentle as he squeezes Jungkook’s before pulling him closer.

“Then hurry and change so we can sleep,” he says, his voice light and teasing, but there’s a softness beneath it, a tenderness that makes Jungkook’s chest ache.

Jungkook nods, his heart hammering a little harder now, his pulse quickening as he turns away to change into the soft, bunny-embroidered pajamas that Jimin had picked just for him. His mind still feels a little sluggish, still wrapped in the warm haze that blankets him, but the idea of slipping into something soft and cozy, of finally finding comfort, makes him feel lighter.

He hesitates for only a moment before nodding, letting Taehyung guide him toward the attached bathroom. The idea of warm water, the steam filling the room and soothing his tired muscles, sounds like exactly what he needs to fully relax.

“Go take a warm bath and change,” Taehyung murmurs, his voice low and soothing as he pushes open the bathroom door. The soft, flickering light in the room casts everything in a gentle glow, and the scent of lavender hangs in the air, thick and calming from a candle someone must have burned earlier. “By the time you’re done, we’ll have the nest ready.”

Jungkook watches Taehyung carefully as he bends down to fill the bathtub, his hands moving with practiced ease as he adjusts the temperature, making sure it’s just right. The soft sound of the water filling the tub is a peaceful backdrop to the moment, and when Taehyung straightens up, he grabs a fluffy pink towel from the shelf, placing it within easy reach. His expression is nothing but warm and doting, his focus entirely on Jungkook.

“Use whatever you want,” Taehyung adds with a smile, his voice gentle. “Everything in here belongs to one of us, so just pick what smells best to you.”

Jungkook’s chest tightens at the offer, at the thought of picking something, something that’s shared, something that’s a part of them. His fingers twitch slightly at his sides, unsure what to do with all these overwhelming emotions that suddenly seem to swell up from inside him.

He’s always been so careful, so hesitant, never sure of where he fits, but right now—right now, with Taehyung standing so close, so kind, so warm—something inside him gives way. He doesn’t want to be alone anymore. He doesn’t want to hold back.

Before he can second-guess himself, Jungkook steps forward, almost instinctively, and wraps his arms around Taehyung. He buries his face against the omega’s shoulder, his breath shaky as he lets himself sink into the embrace.

Taehyung freezes for just a second, and Jungkook feels the omega’s muscles tense beneath his touch. But then, just as quickly, Taehyung relaxes, a soft, delighted noise slipping from his lips. His arms come up to hug Jungkook back, pulling him in close, his embrace warm and welcoming.

“Oh,” Taehyung breathes, his voice filled with surprise and something deeper—something touched. “You’re hugging me.”

The words are soft, but there’s so much in them—so much tenderness and happiness—and it makes Jungkook feel lighter, like he’s finally giving in to something he’s been holding back for so long. The warmth of Taehyung’s embrace fills him, and for the first time in a long while, Jungkook feels like he’s not alone. He feels like he belongs.

Jungkook nods against Taehyung’s shoulder, his arms still tightly wrapped around him, but words fail him. The comforting warmth of Taehyung’s embrace fills him, washing away the coldness he’s held onto for so long. He doesn't need to speak—everything he feels is already being communicated through the simple act of holding on.

His chest rises and falls slowly, in sync with Taehyung’s steady breaths. The omega’s presence is so calming, so grounding, that Jungkook feels like he could stay there forever, nestled into the comfort of his arms. There’s something about the steady reassurance that makes him feel safe—something he’s never had before, not like this. His mind spins with thoughts, but they all blur, fading away under the weight of this warm, peaceful silence.

Taehyung, sensing Jungkook’s unspoken gratitude, chuckles softly, the sound rich and affectionate. He squeezes Jungkook a little tighter, his hands warm against his back. “You’re so cute, Kookie,” Taehyung murmurs, his voice low and soft, carrying the kind of affection that makes Jungkook’s heart flutter. “You can hug me anytime, you know? I like it.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say to that—his heart swells with emotion, and he feels a quiet satisfaction rise within him. He’s not used to this, not used to being wanted or needed in such an open, unguarded way. It’s different from everything he’s known.

So, instead of responding with words, he just tightens his grip, letting a small, contented sound slip from his lips. He’s not sure why, but he feels so at ease, so accepted, in a way that feels natural, as though this is exactly where he’s meant to be. To be held like this, so effortlessly, so completely.

After a moment, Taehyung pulls back just enough to look at him, his face soft with affection, his eyes filled with nothing but warmth. Jungkook feels a strange flutter in his chest at the sight—Taehyung’s gentle smile, his eyes full of something that looks like reassurance, like he’s telling Jungkook, without words, that everything is okay. That it’s safe here. "Now go take your bath, okay? we'll be right outside," Taehyung says, his voice just as warm and soothing as the embrace.

Jungkook nods, a small, reluctant sigh slipping past his lips as he finally pulls away. He doesn’t want Taehyung to leave, doesn’t want to break the connection, but he knows he should. He watches as the omega gives him one last, fond smile before stepping out of the bathroom, closing the door gently behind him. The moment the door clicks shut, Jungkook is left standing alone for just a heartbeat.

Jungkook stands in the bathroom, his gaze shifting over the neatly arranged bottles on the shelf, each one marked with a different scent. His fingers hover over the rows of shampoo and body wash, the soft light casting a warm glow over the space. The aroma of lavender still lingers in the air, a comforting trace of the candle someone had burned earlier. But now, the scents of the various products in front of him are stronger, more pronounced.

His instincts flare, the sensitivity he’s been warned about making every smell feel more intense, more intimate. He’s already beginning to feel that familiar buzz under his skin, scent-drunk, as Namjoon had called it. Everything smells sharper, more vivid, as if his senses are heightened beyond their usual capacity. It’s a strange sensation, one that makes his pulse quicken and his thoughts feel hazy.

Jungkook knows he needs to choose. He’s standing at the threshold of something unfamiliar, something that feels both comforting and overwhelming. The bottles in front of him aren’t just ordinary shampoos and body washes. No, these are all scented like their owners—each one uniquely infused with the essence of his hyungs.

He can pick up the faint traces of what belongs to whom, the subtle notes of cedarwood and musk, sandalwood and cinnamon, jasmine, lilac, cherries and raspberries. His senses are so attuned to these fragrances now that they practically swirl around him, invading his thoughts, and making him crave something more.

Jungkook’s chest tightens slightly as his gaze flits from one bottle to the next. He wants to smell like all of them, to be marked by each of his hyungs in a way that feels like an embrace. The idea of carrying a piece of each of their scents, their essences, feels comforting.

It makes him feel connected to them, like he’s not just some outsider or intruder in their world, but part of it—part of them. But reality settles in quickly. That wouldn’t be possible, would it? He can’t use all of them. He has to choose. His fingers slide over a few bottles, testing each scent, letting the fragrances settle in his mind. They all call to him in different ways, but two fragrances seems to resonate with him more than the others.

As the water in the tub continues to fill, Jungkook thinks of Jimin and Taehyung, the two omegas who have become such a steady presence in his life. He thinks about how they’re working together to create a safe place for all of them, together in the guest room. A safe place where he could finally relax, where he wouldn’t have to worry about what might come next.

They had said that it was their instinct to create this space for them, for him. The thought makes his chest ache with something tender, something almost painful. And now, standing in this bathroom, he realizes something deeper—he wants to carry that warmth with him, wants to feel like he’s part of their world in a way that’s more tangible.

Jungkook breathes in deeply, the decision slowly taking shape in his mind. He doesn’t want to simply smell like them in a passing way. He wants to feel like he’s wrapped in their scent, the essence of the two omegas who have made him feel safe, cherished, and wanted. The sharp tang of musk or the warm cinnamon aren’t what he needs right now. Neither are the fresh jasmine or the soft lilac scents. His instincts are telling him something else, something sweeter.

He reaches for the cherry shampoo and the raspberry body wash, the fragrances delicate yet vibrant. The cherry scent is warm, enveloping, with a slight tartness that reminds him of comfort. It’s sweet, like a summer afternoon, and it makes him think of Jimin’s bright smile, his laughter. The raspberry scent is rich and inviting, a little more sultry, like Taehyung—a little wild, a little soft, like the gentle chaos of his presence.

It’s the perfect combination, blending both the softness and warmth that Taehyung and Jimin bring to him.

His fingers curl around the bottles, a small, satisfied sigh escaping him as he finally makes his choice. It feels right, almost instinctual. The scents will carry him, hold him close in a way that nothing else can. With his decision taken, he quickly undresses and get into the warm soapy water.

As he pours the cherry shampoo into his hand, the smell immediately fills the bathroom, mingling with the lavender in the air, creating a cocoon of warmth around him. He lathers the shampoo through his hair, massaging it gently, and the scent of cherry wraps around him like a blanket. He can feel the softness of it settling on his skin, the warmth of it blending with the other scents that already linger on him—lingering traces of the his hyungs' presence, but now, these ones are his. These are the ones he’s chosen.

When he moves to the raspberry body wash, the smell bursts forth with the same sweetness, its richness coating his skin like a promise. He rubs it in, feeling the warmth of the water on his skin, and the scent of raspberry lingers around him, mixing with the cherry, creating a heady, comforting fragrance that he knows will follow him for the rest of the night. It’s a blend of Jimin and Taehyung, a reminder of the two omegas who have made him feel wanted and cared for in a way he’s never experienced before.

Jungkook feels a quiet sense of peace settle over him. He’s surrounded by the warmth of the scents he’s chosen, and in this moment, it feels like he’s a part of something larger. He’s not just a human caught between worlds. He’s part of this pack. He’s part of them.

Jungkook finishes washing up quickly, eager to return to the warmth of the room and the safety of his hyungs. The gentle scent of cherry and raspberry still lingers on his skin, a comforting, soft layer that feels almost like an embrace. The warm water has relaxed his muscles, and the soft, fluffy pink towel Taehyung had placed within easy reach dries his skin gently.

When he pulls the bunny-embroidered pajamas on his body, the fabric feels light and soft against his skin, an unexpected comfort that makes him smile to himself. His heart flutters a little at the thought of wearing the cute, cozy set—something Jimin had carefully picked out for him, something that made him feel, in that moment, like he truly belonged. He pulls the pajamas on with a quiet sense of excitement, his fingers still slightly trembling from the emotional haze that has settled over him.

With the last touches of his bath routine finished, Jungkook quickly steps out of the bathroom, his heart racing with anticipation. He’s eager to return to the room, to the nest that Jimin and Taehyung have been so carefully crafting for them, the space where he’ll be surrounded by their warmth and the promise of comfort.

His heart beats a little faster at the thought of it, of finally being enveloped by the security of their presence. He’s never had something like this—something so safe and welcoming. The thought of it fills him with a strange kind of peace.

As he enters the room, he’s immediately greeted by the sight of Jimin and Taehyung still at work, arranging blankets, pillows, and soft fabrics in a manner that speaks of both care and purpose. The space is beginning to take shape—an inviting, cozy nest that seems to hum with warmth.

The blankets are piled high in the middle of the room, and the soft scents of their work surround him. The room feels like it’s radiating a calm energy, and Jungkook can’t help but breathe it in, feeling a sense of belonging wrap around him with every breath.

Jimin looks up as soon as Jungkook enters, his bright eyes lighting up at the sight of him. A wide smile spreads across his face, and he bounces up from where he’d been sitting on the edge of the blanket pile. “There you are!” he exclaims, his voice full of happiness, the excitement in his tone unmistakable. “We were waiting for you, Kookie!”

Jungkook’s chest tightens, a soft warmth blossoming in his heart at Jimin’s words. He’s been waiting for him? His lips part as he takes in the sight of Jimin’s beaming smile, and for a moment, he just stands there, stunned by the simplicity of the moment. He can’t quite explain why, but there’s something so overwhelmingly beautiful about the fact that Jimin, with his sweet smile and kind eyes, had been looking forward to his return.

His throat tightens, and he forces a smile, the warmth of it spreading across his face despite the knot that forms in his chest.

Jimin, noticing the way Jungkook is looking at him, softens, his eyes glimmering with affection. "We need your clothes, Kookie," Jimin continues, his voice gentle but full of purpose. "We need them to make the nest smell like you. It's important for it to feel like you—like you're really here with us. We want it to be perfect."

Jungkook blinks, the request catching him slightly off guard. He hadn’t considered that part—the idea of his clothes becoming part of this intimate, shared space. But the more he thinks about it, the more it feels right. It makes sense. The nest isn’t just for them—it’s for him too. It’s a way of bringing him into the fold, of marking him as a part of their little world, and the thought makes his heart swell with something he can’t quite put into words.

Taehyung, who had been finishing up a few last touches, looks up and offers a soft smile, his eyes glimmering with a quiet sense of satisfaction. “It’s not just about the smell,” he adds, his voice low and soothing. “It’s about us being together. We want to surround you with our scents and yours so that when you lie down, when you close your eyes, it feels like you’re truly here, in our space. You’re a part of this now, Kookie.”

The tenderness in Taehyung’s voice makes Jungkook’s breath catch in his throat. There’s an unspoken vulnerability in his words—an invitation, a promise. The nest isn’t just a physical thing. It’s a symbol, a gesture, of their care for him. And that realization sends a wave of warmth through him, easing the tension he hadn’t even realized he was holding. His heart skips a beat at the thought of being so included, so cherished in a way that feels both overwhelming and safe.

He hands the clothes over to Jimin, who takes them eagerly, his hands brushing lightly against Jungkook’s. The touch is brief but filled with an undeniable tenderness, and Jungkook’s heart skips a beat. Jimin immediately begins to drape the clothes carefully over the blankets, arranging them in such a way that the scent of Jungkook’s presence will permeate the space. Taehyung moves to help, his eyes flicking over the small pile of clothes with a look of quiet contentment as he assists Jimin.

As they work together, Jungkook steps back slightly, watching them. The nest is taking shape—his scent, his presence, is slowly becoming a part of it. And in that moment, surrounded by the soft scent of cherry and raspberry, the gentle care of the two omegas, Jungkook realizes something important. He’s no longer an outsider in this pack. He’s not just someone they’re taking care of because they have to. He’s here because they want him to be. And that thought fills him with a sense of peace he’s never felt before. The nest is theirs, but it’s also his, in ways he’s still learning to understand.

“Thank you,” he whispers softly, barely above a breath, but Jimin and Taehyung hear it. Their smiles widen, and without a word, they both move toward him, drawing him into the warmth of the nest they’ve created together.

Jimin and Taehyung move around him with ease, their motions fluid as they work together to settle him into the center of the nest. It’s clear they’ve done this before—this isn’t just some casual thing for them. It’s something instinctual, something that’s second nature. The nest isn’t just for sleeping, it’s a place of safety, of comfort, and it’s made with the intention of caring for Jungkook.

They insist that he be in the middle, that he take the prime position in the nest so that he’s safe, and their determination leaves no room for debate. Jungkook frowns, still a little unsure of the reasoning behind it. He’s not used to being the center of attention, not used to being the one to be cared for in this way.

"But the whole house is safe," Jungkook protests weakly, still trying to understand. His brows furrow together in confusion, and his voice holds a note of uncertainty. "Nothing’s going to happen if I’m on the side instead."

Jimin huffs softly, his breath warm and comforting as he pulls blankets over their legs, tucking them around them with a soft hum. “It’s not about that, Kookie,” he murmurs, his voice gentle, understanding. His words are soothing, but there’s a subtle strength to them, a kind of unspoken truth that Jungkook can feel in the weight of the silence. “It’s instinct.”

Jungkook blinks, his confusion only deepening. "Instinct?" he repeats, trying to make sense of the concept.

Taehyung settles beside him, his presence heavy and steady, grounding him in the moment. His hand brushes over Jungkook’s arm, a soft, calming gesture that makes Jungkook feel even more at ease. “Shifters have a sort of hierarchy,” Taehyung explains, his voice calm and patient, like he’s already expected Jungkook to need the reassurance.

“It’s not strict, and it’s not something we consciously follow, but it’s instinctual. It affects the way we see each other, the way we respond to things. And it’s not about power or dominance, it’s about love and care.”

Jungkook tilts his head slightly, trying to absorb the weight of Taehyung’s words, the complexity of what he’s saying. It’s different, but somehow, it makes sense in a way he didn’t expect. "Love and care?" Jungkook repeats, testing the words, trying to understand.

Jimin’s smile softens, and he reaches out to take Jungkook’s arm in a gentle grip, his fingers smoothing over the damp skin, sending a wave of warmth through Jungkook’s body. “Alphas are traditionally considered the top of the hierarchy,” Jimin explains, his voice steady but with an undertone of something deeper—something that speaks of understanding.

“And omegas are at the bottom—the ones who need the most protection.” There’s a tenderness to his words, an unspoken meaning that carries more than just a simple explanation. “But it’s not about strength or weakness. It’s about who needs what, and how we respond to that. It's different for everyone.”

Jungkook’s chest tightens again, but this time, it’s not from the same uncertainty that he’s been carrying for so long. It’s something more, something quieter, yet deeper—something that lingers in his heart, filling the empty spaces he never knew he had. It’s an understanding that’s settling into his bones, gradually unfurling like a flower blooming in the warmth of sunlight.

He’s beginning to understand the layers of care, the depth of the love they offer him. 

It’s not just protection, not just safety. It’s more than that. It’s the promise that he matters, that he has value, that he is important in ways he’s still learning to accept. This isn’t about them keeping him safe because they have to—this is about them wanting to keep him safe.

They’re showing him that he belongs, that he’s part of something far greater than himself. A part of them. They’re not just his hyungs, they’re his family. And in this moment, as Taehyung’s presence leans against him with such quiet intensity, as Jimin’s hand rests gently on his wrist, Jungkook feels something overwhelming, something precious, unfurl in his chest.

He is theirs. And they are his. 

The thought feels strange. He used to dislike the idea of belonging to someone, of being owned. But with them, it’s different.

With Sungil, everything had been about control and suffering, about possession in the cruelest sense. His hyungs use the same words, but they hold an entirely different meaning. With them, being theirs isn’t about ownership, it’s about love, protection, and the desire to keep him safe. It’s about wanting Jungkook to be a part of them, to belong in the way that truly matters.

Taehyung hums softly, a sound of contentment. He shifts slightly, leaning just a bit more into Jungkook’s side, a move that feels both natural and comforting. "For us," Taehyung says, his voice steady, "Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung are at the top. Even though Namjoon-hyung isn’t the oldest, he’s the most stable, the one who’s always grounded. He’s also the pack alpha. He and Yoongi-hyung are the ones we look to when we need protection."

The way he speaks about the alphas carries such respect, such trust, and it’s clear that the bond between them is unshakable. Taehyung’s words hold a weight that Jungkook can feel, a quiet reverence that he doesn’t fully understand, but somehow senses deep within him.

Jimin, who has been leaning against the edge of the nest with a soft, thoughtful expression, picks up where Taehyung leaves off, his voice carrying an ease that feels like home. "Then it’s Jin-hyung" he adds, eyes glimmering with affection for the eldest. "Then Hobi-hyung. Then the two of us." His voice softens, a playful lilt entering his tone as he glances at Taehyung.

"Though, for me, Taehyungie is still just a little lower," he says, the words teasing but fond, a hint of mischief dancing in his smile. Taehyung, catching the look, rolls his eyes dramatically but doesn’t argue. Instead, he shifts closer into Jungkook’s warmth, nuzzling against him with a quiet affection that sends a strange flutter through Jungkook’s chest. The sensation is unfamiliar, yet so incredibly comforting—like a soft blanket wrapping around him, keeping him safe and warm in ways he didn’t know he needed.

Jungkook, caught in the whirlwind of their words and actions, feels a strange hesitation bubbling up inside him. "And me?" he asks, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. He’s not entirely sure why he’s asking, but a part of him needs to know. Needs to understand where he fits in this delicate hierarchy that they’ve just shared, this bond that he’s slowly becoming a part of.

His fingers press deeper into the blankets beneath him, a grounding force as he waits for their response. His heart races slightly, uncertain but curious. He wants to know. He wants to understand, but the thought of where he might fall makes something tighten in his chest.

There’s no hesitation between Jimin and Taehyung as they exchange a quick, knowing glance. Their scents shift then—sweet and thick with warmth, suffused with something protective, something that makes Jungkook’s breath catch in his throat. It’s a quiet, powerful change, one that settles over him like a wave of comfort.

Jimin, ever gentle and kind, reaches up with a tenderness that sends a soft shiver through Jungkook’s spine. His fingers brush against Jungkook’s forehead, pushing a few damp strands of hair away from his eyes in a gesture that feels intimate, soothing. "You," Jimin says, his voice so soft, yet so certain, that it cuts through the tension in Jungkook’s chest. "You are the lowest in our hierarchy."

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat at the words, and for a brief moment, his heart stutters, unsure how to process the sting of that. He’s the lowest. The one at the bottom. His mind races, thinking of the implications, the weight of it. But before he can spiral into the uncertainty he’s always felt, Jimin’s other hand finds his wrist, gently squeezing it, grounding him once again.

"Our wolves see you as the one who needs the most protection. You're our baby, our pup" Taehyung adds, his voice soft but resolute, the words deliberate as they settle into the space between them. "You make our instincts go into full protective mode. We can’t help it. We need to make sure you’re safe." The words are firm, but there’s no harshness in them, only the unwavering certainty that Jungkook is, in their eyes, precious.

The intensity of their care, of their protection, swells around him, and it’s impossible to ignore. It’s not pity. It’s not weakness. It’s love, raw and unyielding. They need to protect him, not because they see him as weak, but because he’s someone they value deeply.

Jungkook’s fingers curl into the soft blankets beneath him, the fabric folding under his grip as he takes a slow, shaky breath. His chest tightens, but this time it’s not from fear—it’s from something deeper, something more tender. The words that should have made him feel small, vulnerable, instead settle deep within him like a warm, familiar weight.

He’s being protected because he’s important, because they care. And for the first time, he allows himself to feel the full weight of that care without pulling away, without feeling like he doesn’t deserve it. He’s here, in this moment, accepted and cherished. Protected.

A shaky exhale slips past his lips as he finally speaks, his voice softer than before. "Okay," he says, a whisper of surrender, of acceptance. The word feels like a small weight lifted from his shoulders. It’s okay to need them. It’s okay to be cared for, to be protected. He doesn’t have to be strong all the time. They’re here.

Jimin’s smile lights up the room, bright and full of warmth, and without hesitation, he leans in to press a soft, fleeting kiss to Jungkook’s temple, a kiss that carries all the unspoken affection in his heart. "Good," Jimin murmurs, his voice like a soothing balm to Jungkook’s racing heart. "We’ll keep you safe, Kookie, always."

Taehyung’s arms wrap around him then, pulling him closer, his body warm and secure against Jungkook’s. The embrace is solid, comforting, a quiet promise that Jungkook will never be alone in this. "Now," Taehyung murmurs, his voice low and steady, "stop worrying and get comfy."

The words settle over him like a blanket, soft and enveloping, and with a deep, contented breath, Jungkook allows himself to relax into the nest. The world feels just a little bit brighter, a little bit safer, now that he’s here—surrounded by the warmth of their care, wrapped in the comfort of their affection.

Jimin huffs in mock frustration as he crosses his arms, looking between Jungkook and Taehyung with a stubborn pout. "If I could, I’d put both of you in the middle," he declares with a playful yet firm tone, as though it’s an important matter to him.

His eyes twinkle with mischief as he shoots Taehyung a pointed look. "But since that’s not possible, the best I can do is make sure Jungkookie is in the safest spot, and that you," he says, gesturing at Taehyung with a teasing smirk, "are not the one closest to the door."

Taehyung rolls his eyes, the playful banter continuing between them, but it’s clear to Jungkook that, even in the teasing, their bond is unbreakable, and he is at the center of it all—protected, cared for, and loved. The nest is truly theirs, but more than anything, it feels like his now, too.

Taehyung lets out a low, soft chuckle, the sound full of amusement as he watches Jimin’s protective stance with a teasing glint in his eyes. His expression is unbothered, relaxed, and playful, the kind of lightheartedness that could only come from someone who feels safe in their bonds.

He turns to Jungkook, eyes sparkling with mischief, his voice warm and full of affection. “See? Jiminie can get quite dominant when he wants to,” Taehyung muses, his tone soft, teasing, but also filled with that unique warmth that makes his words feel like a caress. 

“But I like it. It makes me feel small, in a good way.” His words hang in the air for a moment, filled with a tender, almost intimate honesty that causes a flicker of something soft to pass through Jungkook’s chest. Taehyung’s ability to balance playfulness with sincerity is something Jungkook is slowly coming to appreciate.

It’s easy to get lost in the way Taehyung seems to always make everyone around him feel comfortable, like they’re part of a bigger, safe space. But it’s more than that—there’s a quiet depth to his teasing, a sense of understanding and connection that Jungkook finds both disarming and comforting.

Jimin rolls his eyes at the teasing, but there’s something in his eyes—an almost imperceptible softening, a vulnerability he doesn’t always show. His lips twitch upward, betraying the fact that he seems to secretly enjoys hearing such things. Without missing a beat, Jimin reaches up, his hand cupping Taehyung’s cheek with gentle, yet firm affection. His thumb brushes over the soft skin of Taehyung’s face in a tender motion, almost like a silent promise.

“I’ll always protect you, Tae,” Jimin murmurs, his voice laced with quiet devotion, a tone so soft and yet full of undeniable sincerity that it nearly takes Jungkook’s breath away. The words are simple, but they carry the weight of something much deeper—something rooted in the unspoken bond they share, in the quiet strength of their friendship. The love between them is easy to see, effortless in its beauty, and Jungkook feels a pang of longing for a connection so pure, so unbroken.

The way Jimin looks at Taehyung, the way Taehyung leans into the touch, it’s all so soft, so full of warmth, that Jungkook can hardly stand it. The tenderness between them is palpable, something almost sacred in its simplicity. It makes something in his chest ache, a bittersweet feeling he’s not sure he knows how to process. The way they care for each other so deeply, without hesitation, without reserve—it’s almost too much for him to take in all at once.

He feels like an outsider, standing on the edge of something beautiful, something he’s not yet fully a part of, but so desperately wants to understand. His heart tightens with the realization that this kind of closeness is something he hasn’t known, something he’s still learning to trust. But the ache in his chest is familiar, a quiet reminder of all the things he’s never had, all the things he never allowed himself to need.

And then, as if reading his mind, Jimin turns his gentle eyes to Jungkook. The intensity of his gaze is soft, but it holds a depth that seems to see straight through Jungkook, into the parts of him that still feel unsure, still feel lost. “I’ll protect you too, Kookie, always,” Jimin promises, his voice unwavering, filled with the kind of certainty that only comes when someone truly means what they say.

There’s no hesitation, no doubt in his words—only pure, unfiltered sincerity. Jungkook feels his breath catch in his throat, the weight of those words sinking in slowly, making his chest tighten. And then, much like he did in the bathroom with Taehyung, something inside him shifts, and before he can process the overwhelming emotions flooding him, his body moves of its own accord.

He melts into Jimin’s arms, as if he’s been waiting for this moment his entire life. And somehow he deeply feels like he has. He buries his face against Jimin’s chest, his arms wrapping around him instinctively, pulling himself closer as though trying to anchor himself in the warmth and safety that Jimin is offering so freely.

Jimin lets out a soft, surprised laugh, but there’s no hesitation in his embrace. His hands find their way to Jungkook’s back, holding him tightly, gently, but with a certainty that makes Jungkook feel safe in a way he’s never felt before. “Oh, my sweet baby,” Jimin coos, his voice laced with a fondness so deep it could melt the coldest of hearts.

He presses a lingering kiss to the top of Jungkook’s head, a soft, tender thing that carries all the affection he’s holding in his heart. His fingers rub soothing, gentle circles along Jungkook’s spine, a rhythmic motion that sends a calming warmth spreading through Jungkook’s body.

“You’re gonna make me cry if you keep being this cute,” Jimin adds, his voice thick with emotion, though the smile in his voice is unmistakable. His affection is palpable, a soft force that wraps around Jungkook like a cocoon, making him feel cherished, wanted, and at peace.

Taehyung chuckles softly beside them, his voice full of affection as he watches Jimin hold him so tenderly. He reaches out, his hand joining Jimin’s as they both stroke gentle circles on Jungkook’s back, a silent show of solidarity, of affection.

“He’s just needy,” Taehyung teases, but there’s no malice in his tone—only warmth, a teasing that is as much out of love as anything else. It’s clear in the way he smiles, in the way he watches Jungkook lean into Jimin’s embrace. The teasing is gentle, a playful acknowledgment of Jungkook’s vulnerability, but there’s something in it that makes Jungkook feel like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be—safe, accepted, and loved.

Jimin only hugs him tighter, his scent sweetening with affection, the warmth of it filling the air between them. “Good,” Jimin murmurs, his voice a soft promise, “That means he belongs here.” The words settle into Jungkook’s chest like a balm, soothing the raw edges of his soul.

He belongs here. They want him here. The realization is so simple, yet so profound, that Jungkook can’t help but let out a soft sigh, the weight of it all sinking into his bones. This is where he’s meant to be. This is where he’s wanted. And he doesn’t feel the need to pull away, to protect himself from the warmth they’re offering. 

Jungkook’s ears burn as Taehyung and Jimin share a teasing laugh beside him, their gentle banter relentless in its playfulness. The sound is infectious, but Jungkook groans, pulling the blanket up over his face to hide the redness creeping up his neck. The move only makes them laugh harder, their joy infectious and bright, and Jungkook can’t help but smile despite himself. He’s not used to this—being teased, being loved so openly—but there’s something freeing about it. 

“Come on, Kookie,” Taehyung drawls, nudging him playfully, his voice light with mischief. “Do you want to know a secret?” The words hang in the air with an invitation that Jungkook can’t quite resist. He peeks out from behind the blanket, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as he braces himself for whatever mischief Taehyung and Jimin are about to concoct.

“What kind of secret?” Jungkook asks, the skepticism in his voice clear as he watches them closely, his curiosity piqued despite himself.

Jimin and Taehyung share a look, one that makes Jungkook’s heart skip a beat. Their grins are identical, practically dripping with mischief, and the air around them seems to buzz with their shared secret.

Jimin leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s about the hyungs,” he says, the words low and teasing, making Jungkook tense up immediately. The mere mention of their names makes his pulse jump, his heart quickening in his chest.

“W-what about them?” Jungkook asks, his voice tinged with confusion, his nerves firing up at the thought.

Taehyung’s eyes sparkle with amusement, a mischievous glint dancing in them as he watches Jungkook squirm. “They like that they make you all flustered,” he says, his voice light and teasing.

Jungkook blinks, his mind racing to catch up. “What?”

“They like that you get all shy around them,” Jimin clarifies with a teasing poke to Jungkook’s cheek, his smile wide and playful. “That you can’t look at them for too long, that their scents make you all dizzy.” Jimin tilts his head, watching Jungkook closely, his grin widening as he grows more flustered. “Haven’t you noticed how they lean in just a little closer when you get all nervous? You should tease them too.”

Jungkook's face burns at the thought of it all, and as Taehyung and Jimin giggle beside him, their teasing relentless and filled with the warmth of their shared amusement, he can’t help but curl in on himself. He buries his face in the soft nest of blankets around him, desperately trying to shield himself from their knowing smiles, their eyes filled with mischief and affection.

"I-I can't do that!" he mutters, voice muffled against the fabric, as if saying it aloud will somehow make it all feel less real. "Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung are too intimidating."

The omegas share a look, and their laughter bursts out effortlessly, filling the air with the unmistakable scent of amusement. Taehyung, always quick with his teasing, nudges Jungkook’s side playfully, his hand warm and light against his ribs.

"Hyung, intimidating? That big, soft alpha who carries you around like you weigh nothing? And Yoongi-hyung, who looks at you like he’s two seconds away from wrapping you in a blanket and keeping you forever?" Taehyung’s voice holds a teasing lilt, but there’s something tender in it too, something that makes Jungkook's heart flutter in an entirely different way.

Jungkook groans in response, unable to suppress the flush creeping up his neck. "They don't look at me like that!" he mutters, sinking deeper into the blankets as though they could somehow hide him from his own thoughts.

Jimin props himself up on his elbow beside Jungkook, his eyes sparkling with mischief, but there's a softness to them that only Jungkook can see. "Then what is it, Kookie?" Jimin's voice is almost sing-song, coaxing the truth out of him with gentle persistence.

Jungkook hesitates, his fingers twisting nervously in the blanket as he tries to find the words. How could he explain something so personal, so confusing? "…Their scents feel too strong," he admits after a long pause, his voice barely above a whisper. "Dominant. It’s… a lot. I don't understand why it affects me so much."

Taehyung hums thoughtfully beside him, his breath warm against Jungkook’s skin as he leans closer, resting his chin on Jungkook's shoulder. "A lot how?" he asks, his voice soft, encouraging, as if he wants Jungkook to let it all out.

Jungkook exhales sharply, pressing his face deeper into the nest of blankets, the soft fabric a comforting barrier between him and his racing thoughts. He feels vulnerable, exposed, but forces himself to respond. "It makes me feel… weird," he continues, his voice trembling just a little as he finds it harder and harder to keep his emotions contained. "Like I can’t look at them for too long." The words come out before he can stop them, and immediately, he feels the weight of his own admission settle heavily on his chest.

The laughter from the omegas is immediate, but it’s not mocking—no, it’s warm and full of affection, teasing without cruelty. "Oh, Kookie," Jimin practically coos, his voice sweet and full of fondness. He reaches out, tugging Jungkook closer, his hands warm and reassuring as they find their way to Jungkook’s back. "You’re so cute," he murmurs, his voice soft like a gentle caress.

Taehyung, always the one to enjoy the playfulness of their interactions, grins widely as he drapes himself across Jungkook’s back. "We know exactly what you mean," he says, his voice full of teasing affection, but there’s a sense of understanding beneath it all—an unspoken connection between them.

Jungkook huffs in frustration, weakly pushing at them, but neither of the omegas budges. Instead, they tighten their hold on him, their warmth enveloping him from all sides. Their scents—sweet, comforting, and playful—wrap around him like a protective cocoon, making it impossible for him to ignore the affection they’re offering so freely.

Jimin's hand gently brushes a stray curl from Jungkook's forehead, his fingers tender as they trace the curve of his cheek. "Your scent changes when they look at you, you know?" Jimin muses, his tone thoughtful as he examines Jungkook with a gentle, knowing smile. "All sweet and soft, like you’re practically begging for them to scoop you up."

Jungkook’s stomach drops at the thought, and he can’t stop the horrified gasp that escapes his lips. "W-what?" he stammers, looking at Jimin with wide eyes, feeling completely caught off guard.

Taehyung nods sagely beside him, grinning like a mischievous child. "Mhm. It’s adorable. But don't worry, mine does too."

Jungkook groans again, this time louder, as he hides his face in his hands. He’s never going to live this down.

He swallows thickly, his heart pounding in his chest. "T-that’s not—" he begins, but before he can finish his sentence, Taehyung cuts him off, his voice sing-song and teasing.

"It is," Taehyung says, stretching lazily as if he owns the moment. "Alphas like a chase. A little challenge. And Kookie, you’re the perfect little challenge."

Jungkook stares at him, his mouth opening and closing like he’s at a loss for words. "I am not—" he starts, but Taehyung’s grin only widens.

"You so are," Jimin interrupts with a giggle, his voice full of teasing sweetness. "You should see the way they react when you’re around. They get all focused."

Jungkook groans again, this time collapsing back onto the nest in sheer mortification. His heart races in his chest, and he has no idea what to do with all this new information. His face is on fire, and he can barely gather the courage to look up at either of them. He doesn’t know what to say—doesn’t know how to process this—but he can’t help the feeling of being exposed, vulnerable, and strangely... wanted.

"Don’t worry, Kookie," Taehyung says softly, his hand gently patting Jungkook’s arm in an effort to soothe him. "It just means you’re special to them. And to us, obviously."

The word hits Jungkook like a physical blow. Special. They keep calling him that. His chest tightens, and for a moment, he’s frozen, unsure of what to do with the wave of warmth that spreads through him. Is it excitement or panic? Maybe both.

His cheeks burn hotter than before, and he buries his face deeper into the pile of soft blankets, trying to hide from the teasing that he knows is only going to get worse. Still, despite his embarrassment, despite the overwhelming rush of emotions, the thought of smelling like Jimin and Taehyung, of being cared for and wanted in a way he’s never known before—it makes his heart race in a way he can’t quite understand.

“You know,” Jimin purrs softly, his voice filled with a mix of affection and playful amusement, “we’ve noticed something.” He leans in closer, his breath warm against Jungkook’s ear, the sound of it gentle and intimate. The heat of his proximity sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine, and the soft whisper of his words lingers in the air like a promise. “You chose our products, didn’t you? You smell just like us now.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches sharply in his throat, caught in a whirlwind of thoughts that he can't quite process. He doesn’t know how to respond, the words lodged in his chest like stones, heavy and suffocating. He tries to sink deeper into the soft nest of blankets around him, the familiar warmth enveloping him, but the motion is futile.

Taehyung only tightens his hold, his chest pressing firmly against Jungkook’s back in a way that’s both reassuring and almost possessive, as if he’s staking a claim in a place Jungkook never knew he needed. The heat of Taehyung’s presence, comforting and unyielding, only amplifies the overwhelming feeling of being seen in a way Jungkook isn’t sure he’s ready for.

“Smelling like us, huh?” Taehyung rumbles against the back of his neck, the vibrations deep and intimate, sending a thrill through Jungkook’s body. His voice is low, and the words are spoken with a teasing softness, as if savoring the moment. “You wanted to, didn’t you?”

Jungkook’s heart flutters painfully in his chest at the question, the words landing in his ears like a heavy weight he’s not sure how to carry. They feel like too much, too deep, and for a brief, breathless moment, he wonders if he’ll be able to keep himself together. His lips tremble, and he stays silent, biting his bottom lip to keep the tremor from spilling out in the form of a shaky breath.

He doesn’t know how to explain it, how to tell them that every word, every touch, every moment of closeness is slowly unraveling the walls he’s built. The teasing continues, rolling over him in soft waves, and he can feel their eyes on him, their attention all-encompassing. They watch the soft, shy movements he makes as he tries to hide from the truth, tries to bury it beneath the layers of blankets, beneath the silence that only amplifies how much he wants to admit it all.

“Did you want to smell like us, Kookie?” Jimin asks again, his voice low, nearly a whisper now, as if savoring every second of the fragile moment between them. There’s a playful warmth in his tone, but it’s tempered with something deeper, something that speaks to an understanding, a connection. “Do you like having our scents on you? Do you like knowing that you’re wrapped in it?”

The question hits Jungkook harder than he expects, causing his chest to tighten in a way that leaves him breathless. He can’t find the words to answer, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he doesn’t know how to explain something that feels so right and so overwhelming all at once.

His desire to be wrapped in their warmth, to feel the comfort of their scents surrounding him, fills him with a yearning he isn’t prepared to confront. But the vulnerability of saying that out loud, of admitting how much it means to him—it’s something he isn’t sure he can handle.

His scent shifts once again, growing sweeter, syrupy, as the overwhelming fluster fills him. “N-no…” His voice trembles, not because what he’s saying isn’t true, but because admitting it out loud feels like stepping into an unknown territory. His heart beats erratically, and the soft heat of his body grows even warmer, rising with the tide of emotions he can barely control.

“Oh, Kookie,” Taehyung laughs softly, the sound light and affectionate, a gentle chuckle that brushes against Jungkook’s ear. He presses a soft kiss to Jungkook’s temple, his lips warm and tender, the gesture full of sweetness and unspoken care. “You’re so sweet.” The words are a balm to Jungkook’s nerves, yet they also stir something deep within him, something that feels impossibly fragile. “Do you know how much your scent spikes when you get shy?” Taehyung’s voice drops to a whisper, a knowing tone laced with affection and teasing.

Jimin’s teasing tone softens, transforming into something softer, warmer, filled with affection that flows effortlessly between them. “Right now, you smell like the sweetest thing in the world,” he murmurs, his voice a melody of tenderness. “You’re all ours, in our nest.” The possessiveness in those words sends a rush of warmth through Jungkook’s body, his skin flushing as if the heat of their affection could be felt down to his very bones.

Jungkook wants to melt into the blankets, to disappear entirely, to hide from the weight of their words and the intensity of their gazes. His heart hammers against his ribs, pounding with a rhythm he can barely understand. His skin tingles with the heat of their words, the way their attention presses against him like an invisible force. It’s too much, too overwhelming in the best way, and yet it makes him feel so exposed, so vulnerable. Every part of him aches for comfort, for reassurance, but the vulnerability is something he isn’t sure how to handle.

He can’t look at them. He can’t face them when they’re so certain, so gentle in their teasing. Their attention makes his skin burn with embarrassment, his heart racing, and yet his scent gives away his every feeling, every thought that crosses his mind. It’s like he’s completely transparent to them, and it both scares him and excites him in equal measure.

Jungkook’s heart thuds heavily in his chest as his eyes flicker from Jimin to Taehyung, his breath catching in his throat when they both smile at him with such warmth, such unwavering affection. The vulnerability of the moment is almost too much to bear, and yet, it feels so right, so comforting, in a way he hasn’t experienced before.

He hesitates, his breath shallow, unsure of himself, unsure of what to do with all the emotions that surge through him. But the soft pressure of Jimin’s hand on his wrist, warm and steady, grounds him in a way nothing else can. It’s like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be, where he feels safe, even if he’s never quite known how to accept that feeling before now.

“Can we scent you again, Kookie?” Jimin’s voice is soft, gentle, almost coaxing. There’s an unmistakable warmth in his tone, a tenderness that makes Jungkook’s heart flutter, and despite the overwhelming vulnerability of the situation, he finds himself unable to resist. His gaze drops to the blankets, and with a shy nod, he gives them the permission they’ve quietly asked for, his heartbeat quickening in his chest as the weight of the moment settles over him.

Jimin’s hands move with careful, practiced precision. Slowly, almost reverently, he lifts Jungkook’s wrist to his nose, and for a moment, everything around them falls silent. Jungkook holds his breath, his pulse thundering in his ears as Jimin inhales deeply, his warmth brushing against Jungkook’s skin.

The sensation is electric, each exhale sending a tremor through Jungkook’s body, making his skin prickle with the intimacy of it. He can’t help but shiver at the closeness, at the way Jimin’s scent mingles with his own. It’s comforting and strange, like being cocooned in something entirely new, something he wasn’t sure he ever needed but now craves more than anything.

Taehyung follows suit. His lips, soft and warm, graze against the tender skin of Jungkook’s wrist, and Jungkook can’t suppress the soft sigh that escapes him. The connection between them is so deep, so intimate, that it fills him with a sense of belonging, a sense of peace he didn’t realize he was craving.

Their scents, so familiar and comforting, swirl around him, wrapping him in a protective blanket that makes him feel safe. It’s as though their very essence is intertwining with his, a mark of affection and connection that goes beyond words, beyond anything he’s ever felt. The slow, steady inhalations of the omegas are deliberate, careful, and Jungkook can feel it in the air—their bond deepening with each shared breath, their affection settling over him in the most soothing way possible.

But then, just as quickly as the warmth surrounds him, a small flicker of uncertainty begins to creep into Jungkook’s heart. He feels selfish for wanting more, for needing more, and yet a part of him can’t help but wonder—do they want this too? His chest tightens as he tries to push the thought away, but it lingers, persistent and quiet, until he finally whispers the question that’s been plaguing his mind.

“Do… do you want to smell like me too?” His voice trembles slightly, barely above a whisper, betraying the nervousness that fills him. It feels awkward asking, as though he’s asking too much, but it’s a question he has to know the answer to. He wants to know—do they want to carry his scent the way he carries theirs?

The air between them stills for a heartbeat, but then Jimin’s eyes soften, his expression blooming into something tender and reassuring. He leans in closer, his body warmth enveloping Jungkook even more as he brushes his thumb over Jungkook’s wrist with a gentle pressure, like a touch meant to ground him.

“Of course we do, Kookie,” Jimin murmurs, his voice low and steady, full of affection. “We want everyone to smell it, to know that we’re yours too.” The words are like a balm to the uncertainty that has settled in Jungkook’s chest. There’s no hesitation in Jimin’s voice, no doubt in the way he speaks, only the certainty of someone who knows exactly what they want—and what they want is him.

Taehyung, ever enthusiastic and with a grin that could light up the room, nods eagerly beside them. “We’re yours, Kookie. We want to carry your scent, always.” His words are full of warmth, full of promise, and the sincerity in his eyes makes Jungkook’s heart swell in his chest.

A flood of relief washes over Jungkook at their responses, the tightness in his chest loosening as a smile—soft and full of wonder—begins to tug at the corners of his lips. They don’t mind. They want it. He feels a fluttering sensation in his chest, like he’s weightless, as if everything has finally clicked into place.

It feels instinctive—this need for them to carry his scent, just as much as he wants him to carry theirs. Because they’re his too.

There’s a rush of warmth in his cheeks, and for a moment, he wonders if he’s glowing from the inside out. The uncertainty that once held him captive seems to evaporate, replaced by a warmth so tender, so full of love that it wraps around his heart, comforting him in a way nothing else ever has.

“How do I…?” Jungkook’s voice falters slightly, and he trails off, unsure of how to phrase the question. The act feels so simple, so intimate, and he’s not quite sure how to navigate this next step, how to give himself over to them in a way that feels right.

Jimin’s laughter is soft, warm, like honey dripping from his words. It’s teasing but full of affection, as if he’s enjoying this moment as much as Jungkook is. “You can just rub your wrists on ours, Kookie,” he explains with a playful tone, his hand still resting gently on Jungkook’s wrist. “Just like this.”

With a soft, guiding nudge, Jimin takes Jungkook’s wrist in his hand, leading it toward his own. The simple motion is deliberate, tender, and it makes Jungkook’s breath catch in his throat, his pulse picking up speed. As his wrist grazes against Jimin’s, the sensation is electric, a spark of connection that sends a shiver through Jungkook’s entire body.

The warmth of Jimin’s skin against his, the softness of the touch, it all feels like a promise, like the beginning of something new and beautiful. The act is simple, but to Jungkook, it feels as though it carries the weight of the world. It’s a mark of belonging, it doesn’t feel heavy. Instead, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

He feels his own scent mixing with Jimin’s, both of their essences wrapping around each other. It’s intimate, tender, and it makes his heart swell.

Jungkook repeats the motion with Taehyung, his wrist grazing the soft skin of Taehyung’s wrist. The contact sends a rush of warmth through him, and the subtle scent of Taehyung’s raspberries blends with his own in the most comforting way. Taehyung’s eyes glint with something warm, something playful, but also full of care, as if saying, You’re ours, and we’re yours too.

The moment feels both delicate and powerful, as though the bond between them is being sealed in the most intimate way possible. Jungkook feels the softening of his own scent, the sweetness, as it settles between them. His scent is now woven into theirs, and the thought makes him feel both vulnerable and cherished.

When the process is done, Jungkook pulls back slightly, his hands trembling with the warmth of the connection they’ve just shared. Jimin and Taehyung, both smiling softly, lean in to nuzzle him, their scents filling the space around him once more.

“You smell perfect, Kookie,” Jimin murmurs, his breath warm against Jungkook’s ear. “We’ll always carry you with us now.”

And as Jungkook settles back between them, wrapped in their comforting scents, he feels for the first time that he truly belongs. He is theirs, and they are his, tied together in this intimate, delicate exchange of trust and care.

The soft click of the door opening is the first sound to interrupt the warmth of the nest, and Jungkook shifts slightly, eyes blinking open from where he’s nestled between Jimin and Taehyung. The light from the hallway spills gently into the room, momentarily blinding him. He squints but soon realizes who it is.

Namjoon’s deep voice fills the air as he steps inside with a grin. “Well, well,” he teases, eyes immediately finding Jimin. “I see you’ve made sure Jungkook-ah is safely tucked in the middle. And Taehyungie’s not even close to the door. Good job, Minnie.”

Jimin’s cheeks flush instantly, and he looks away, sheepish under Namjoon’s teasing gaze. “I-I didn’t mean to,” Jimin stammers, shifting slightly, his hands fiddling with the edge of the blanket.

Namjoon, however, leans forward with a warm smile. “No, no. You did good, Minnie. Good boy.” His voice is soft, filled with approval, and Jimin freezes, Jungkook feels the shiver running through him at the praise. He watches the interaction quietly, his chest tightening with a strange warmth at the gentle exchange between the two.

Yoongi enters next, his usual stoic expression softened by the familiar scent of the omegas mingling with Jungkook’s. His gaze sweeps over the nest, his eyes lingering on the three of them. “This is nice,” he comments, voice low. “Your nest is beautiful.” He moves closer to them, and Jungkook feels the warmth of his presence, like the quiet weight of a familiar, caring hand hovering over his shoulder. “It smells so strongly of the three of you.”

Hoseok follows right behind him, his energy immediately filling the space. He smiles, his eyes bright as he looks at the nest. “Yeah, I like it too,” he says, his voice carrying a sense of something protective. He looks at Jungkook with a soft fondness, the kind that makes Jungkook’s heart flutter in his chest. “The three of you together… makes me want to lock all the windows and doors, keep you safe.”

Jungkook’s lips part slightly, his eyes wide as he looks up at Hoseok. His heart sinks at the weight of the statement. It’s protective, warm, but there’s a part of him that feels an ache, a longing for that kind of security.

Namjoon gives him a quick glance, his smile a little softer now. “You’re all safe here,” he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else, but it makes Jungkook’s heart swell in ways he can’t express. “And we’ll always keep it that way.”

Seokjin enters the room last, his presence immediately calming and warm, the gentle hum of his voice a soft contrast to the teasing energy of the others. He moves toward the edge of the nest, his large hands ruffling their hair with a soft chuckle. “Sleep well, my little troublemakers,” Seokjin says fondly, his smile reaching his eyes as he glances at them all. His gaze softens as he looks down at Jungkook, who is nestled securely between Jimin and Taehyung.

“We’ll miss you during the night,” Seokjin adds, his voice rich with affection. He leans down to press a soft kiss to the top of Jungkook’s head, the gesture quiet but meaningful, then proceeds to kiss Jimin and Taehyung as well.

Jungkook blinks up at him, his heart swelling at the warmth and affection radiating from Seokjin. The thought of his hyungs, all of them caring so deeply for him, for them, makes his chest ache with a sweetness he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling.

As Seokjin gives the omegas one last teasing ruffle, Jimin scoots closer to Jungkook, his hand resting on his shoulder as he leans in to press a soft, tender kiss to his head. “Goodnight, Kookie,” Jimin whispers, his voice soft like a lullaby, sending warmth straight to Jungkook’s heart.

Taehyung, on the other side, smiles at him before nuzzling his nape, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there in a delicate, lingering kiss. “Goodnight, Kookie,” he murmurs, the sound of his voice making Jungkook’s pulse quicken in the gentlest of ways.

Jungkook smiles, his eyelids heavy with the weight of comfort and the softness of their affection. “Goodnight,” he whispers back, his voice small, filled with a mix of gratitude and warmth that he can’t fully express.

Before he even has time to process the words, the tenderness of the moment, he feels the pull of sleep, a deep, comforting exhaustion taking over him. The scent of Jimin and Taehyung wraps around him like a blanket, grounding him in their presence. Their words, their touch, and the soothing rhythm of their breathing lull him into a sense of safety that he’s never felt before.

Jungkook falls asleep almost instantly, his body sinking into the soft warmth of the nest, the sounds of his pack surrounding him. In the embrace of the omegas, surrounded by their love and care, he drifts off into a peaceful slumber, where nightmares no longer have a place, and all that remains is the quiet safety of home.

--

Jungkook slowly begins to stir, the quiet warmth of the nest making him feel more rested than he has in a long time. He can feel Jimin and Taehyung still with him, their presence a comforting weight that keeps him grounded. Jimin is curled against his back, his body radiating warmth, while Taehyung’s figure presses against the front of him, their closeness so natural, so easy, that Jungkook can’t bear the thought of leaving.

He nuzzles his face deeper into the crook of Taehyung’s neck, the familiar, comforting scent of sweet, ripe raspberries wrapping around him like a soft cocoon. The warmth of their bodies, the steady rhythm of their breathing, and the gentle hum of their closeness make it feel as though time stands still. This, right here, in this moment, is where Jungkook wants to be forever.

His hand moves instinctively to grip Taehyung’s shirt, pulling him a little closer, his body silently begging for more of the comfort and safety he feels in their embrace. The small movement must stir Taehyung, or perhaps he’s already awake, because Jungkook feels a soft kiss press to the top of his head, Taehyung’s voice low and warm in his ear.

“Good morning, Kookie,” Taehyung murmurs, the sound of his voice making Jungkook’s heart skip. “Did you sleep well?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond with words, too comfortable, too content to do anything but let out a satisfied hum. It’s a simple sound, a quiet acknowledgment of how perfect everything feels, how deeply rested he is. Taehyung’s soft chuckle rumbles through his chest, and Jungkook can feel the warmth of Taehyung’s smile even if he can’t see it.

Then, Jimin’s presence shifts behind him, and Jungkook feels the warmth of his body press even closer. “Hey, Kookie,” Jimin says, his voice just as soft, just as affectionate. Jungkook feels his heart swell at the sound.

Jungkook swallows, still groggy, his voice coming out hoarse when he finally speaks. “Have you… been awake for a while?” His words are slow, slightly slurred with sleep, but the curiosity lingers in them.

Jimin shift slightly so that his head rests more comfortably against his arm. “A little while,” he admits, his voice as gentle as ever. “Maybe twenty minutes?” He glances at Taehyung, who hums in agreement. “We didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful sleeping.”

Jungkook stiffens slightly at that, his cheeks heating against the pillow. He doesn’t know why that flusters him so much, but the idea of them watching him while he slept—finding peace in him—is something that makes his chest tighten in a way he doesn’t quite understand. His lips part as if to protest, but no words come out. What would he even say? That it’s embarrassing? That he probably drooled on the blankets?

“Jungkookie…” Taehyung’s voice is lower, smoother, as he presses a little closer, resting his chin against Jungkook’s shoulder. “We’re really happy you slept with us.” There’s something unspoken in his words, something warm and lingering that makes Jungkook’s breath hitch. “It feels right, doesn’t it? Like our bond is stronger now.”

Jimin nods, reaching out to trace lazy circles against Jungkook’s wrist with his fingertips. His touch is light, barely there, but it sends shivers up Jungkook’s spine. “We can feel it, Kookie. It’s not just in our heads. You belong with us.” His voice is soft but sure, filled with a quiet certainty that Jungkook doesn’t know how to respond to.

Jungkook’s heart stutters in his chest, his stomach twisting in on itself. He can feel the weight of their words settle over him, pressing against something fragile inside him, something he’s not sure how to handle. Because they say it so easily, so naturally—like it’s a simple truth, like it’s something that was always meant to be.

But for Jungkook, nothing about this is simple.

He looks away, pressing his face deeper into the pillows as embarrassment creeps up his spine. “I keep embarrassing myself in front of you,” he mutters, his voice muffled but still clear enough for them to hear. His fingers curl into the fabric of the blankets, gripping onto something solid, something that keeps him grounded amidst the emotions swirling inside him.

“I don’t—I don’t understand a lot of things.” He hesitates, the words lodging in his throat, but maybe it’s the sleepiness still clinging to his mind that lowers his restraint, that makes him braver than he usually is. Because before he can second-guess himself, he’s speaking again, letting the thoughts spill from his lips before he can take them back.

“Everything here is so different,” he confesses, his voice quieter now, more uncertain. “And somehow… I feel like I’ve changed too.”

Jimin and Taehyung stay silent, letting him speak, their presence steady and unwavering beside him.

Jungkook exhales shakily. “I don’t know why it happened. But suddenly, I can smell you. And it does something to me. It's like I'm drawn to you, and everything feels… different.” He pauses, his throat tightening, and it takes him a moment to gather the courage to say the next words. “I even got scent drunk yesterday.” He laughs a little, but there’s no humor in it—just a nervousness, a self-consciousness that he doesn’t know how to shake. “I didn’t even know that was a thing before, but now I—now I feel it.”

Jimin shifts closer, the warmth of his body pressing more firmly against Jungkook’s side. “It’s normal,” he murmurs. “For us, at least. Your body is just… adjusting i guess.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw. “But why? I’m human.” His voice wavers slightly. “I shouldn’t be able to—” He stops himself, his breath catching as another realization hits him. “And it’s not just that. I feel this… this need to be close to you.” His pulse pounds in his ears. “To be yours.” The last part comes out softer, hesitant, like he’s afraid of voicing it, afraid of what it might mean. “I don’t understand it and it's a little unsettling.”

For a long moment, silence stretches between them. But then, Jimin and Taehyung move in unison, wrapping themselves around him in a way that feels grounding, reassuring. Taehyung buries his nose against Jungkook’s neck, his warmth seeping into Jungkook’s skin, while Jimin threads their fingers together, his touch gentle and steady.

“You don’t have to understand it yet,” Jimin says softly. “You just have to feel it.”

Jungkook lets their warmth settle around him, the press of their bodies grounding him even as the thoughts in his head swirl, tangled and uncertain. He wants to understand—needs to—but the more he tries to grasp at the confusion inside him, the more it slips through his fingers like sand. He feels different here, changed in ways he can’t explain, and it scares him. He isn’t a shifter. He isn’t one of them. And yet…

Yet his body reacts to them in ways that make no sense.

Jimin hums softly, his fingers tracing idle shapes against Jungkook’s wrist, the touch light and thoughtful. “It is strange,” he admits, tilting his head slightly as he glances at Taehyung. “But we don’t really know much about humans, Kookie. We don’t know what’s normal for you and what isn’t.”

Taehyung makes a quiet noise of agreement, his nose still tucked against the curve of Jungkook’s neck. He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t let go, as if he knows Jungkook needs the closeness even if he can’t say it out loud. “But for us, it was obvious from the start,” he murmurs. His voice is low, thoughtful, as though he’s reaching into the past, remembering.

Jungkook stiffens slightly. “What do you mean?”

Jimin’s lips curve into a small, knowing smile. “Shifters sometimes just know when someone is meant to be theirs. It’s instinctual—something deeper than thought and it's very normal for us.” He pauses, his fingers tightening just slightly around Jungkook’s. “Like when we first met you.”

Jungkook sucks in a breath.

Taehyung shifts beside him, his arms tightening around Jungkook’s waist in a slow, deliberate motion. “We were scared at first,” he admits, his voice quieter now, like he’s confessing something important. “Because we didn’t understand it and we were also trapped in that hut. But we just felt it. Like something in us had already decided, before we even knew what was happening.”

Jimin nods, his gaze distant for a moment before refocusing on Jungkook. “It was the same for Namjoon-hyung and Jin-hyung. Namjoon-hyung always knew. The moment he saw Jin-hyung for the first time, there was no hesitation, no question. It wasn’t something he could explain—it was just there.”

Jungkook swallows hard.

“So maybe,” Jimin continues, squeezing his fingers gently, “that’s what this is for you, too.” His voice is warm, gentle, full of quiet certainty. “Maybe it’s your instincts pushing you toward your fate.”

Jungkook’s heart stutters in his chest. His fate?

The words settle over him, heavy and overwhelming, and he isn’t sure what to do with them. Fate. Instincts. Belonging. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to accept something so vast, so out of his control. But at the same time… he can’t deny the way his body reacts, the way his heart calms when they’re near, the way his scent shifts without him realizing.

The way he wants to be theirs, even if he doesn’t understand why.

Taehyung presses a slow, lingering kiss to the crown of Jungkook’s head, his lips warm against his hair. “Don’t think too hard about it, Kookie,” he murmurs. 

Jimin smiles, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Jungkook’s ear. “We’re not going anywhere. So just… let it happen. We’ll figure it out.”

Jungkook exhales shakily, his chest tight. He doesn’t have all the answers. He doesn’t understand what’s happening to him.

“We can smell breakfast downstairs,” Jimin adds, the teasing lightness in his tone making Jungkook smile. “We should probably get up before the hyungs eat everything without us.”

Jungkook groans, not wanting to move, not wanting to leave the safety and peace of the nest. He squeezes Taehyung’s shirt tighter, and Jimin, ever the playful one, snuggles closer too.

“Okay,” Jungkook finally mumbles, his voice thick with sleep, but there’s no way he can resist the pull of food.

Jimin laughs softly, his hand brushing against Jungkook’s shoulder as he whispers, “We’ll stay close, I promise. Just a little longer. But the smell of breakfast is too good to ignore now, Kookie. Come on, let’s go together.”

As they make their way to the living room, the aroma of breakfast fills the air, a warm and welcoming scent that seems to wrap around the pack like a comforting embrace. They gather around the table, the soft hum of conversation begins to fill the space, everyone settling into their spots as the morning light filters through the windows. The comfort of the nest, the lingering closeness from the night before, still seems to hang in the air as they begin discussing their plans for the day.

Jimin, his eyes still bright from the cozy warmth of the nest, glances over at Yoongi with a soft smile. “Yoongi and I are going on a date today,” he says, a lightness in his voice. “We’ve been talking about it for a while, and today’s the day. Just the two of us.” His smile is fond, and Yoongi gives him a small, playful grin in return, his presence calm but clearly amused.

Taehyung pipes up next, leaning forward with enthusiasm. “I’m going fishing with Elder Minseok today,” he says, his voice full of energy. “It’s been a while since I’ve had time to spend with him. He’s always got the best stories, and the fish in the lake are supposed to be really big today. It’ll be fun.” He winks at Jungkook, as if inviting him to join in on the excitement, but Jungkook, still getting used to the idea of adventures like that, just gives a soft smile in return.

Seokjin and Namjoon exchange looks before Namjoon speaks up, his voice steady and thoughtful. “We’re heading to the trading markets today,” he says. “It’s a few miles out, but it’s worth the trip. We can trade some goods and stock up on what we need.”

Jin nods, his expression gentle, his eyes soft as he adds, “It’s always nice to check in with the traders, see what’s new in the market. We’ll be back before nightfall.”

The conversation flows easily between them, everyone content with their own plans. But as Hoseok’s eyes land on Jungkook, a soft smile tugs at his lips. His tone is light, but there’s something endearing about his next words. “I think today, I’ll be taking Jungkook out.”

Jungkook blinks, startled for a moment. His heart flutters at Hoseok’s words, a mix of warmth and shyness blooming inside him. He hadn’t expected to hear that so casually, yet the invitation feels so genuine, so warm. Hoseok is always kind, always making sure to include him and make him feel safe, but this is something different—something personal, something just for them.

“I… I’d like that,” Jungkook replies, a shy but genuine smile curving his lips. The thought of spending time with Hoseok, just the two of them, makes his heart race a little. He’s seen the bond between all his hyungs, but this will be a moment just for them to share, to learn more about each other.

Hoseok’s eyes soften, a fondness in them that makes Jungkook feel even more at ease. “Great,” Hoseok says, his voice warm and reassuring.

“We’ll have a lot of fun, Kookie. I promise.” He flashes a grin, his energy radiating outward, pulling Jungkook in like a magnet.

Notes:

Hey!!

I can't handle how soft Jimin and Taehyung are with Jungkook, seriously! 🥺💖 They’re just too precious! And Yay!! Jungkook’s first date with Hoseok, so exciting!! 🥰✨

On another note, I’ve seen some of you asking about chapters with different POVs in the comments, so I wanted to address that here! 😊

For this fic, I’m planning to keep it in a single POV—Jungkook’s POV, to be exact—throughout the whole story. But as I’m writing, I can’t help but wonder what the hyungs’ POV would be for certain scenes! 🤔💭

So, here’s the plan: I think I'll write bonus chapters with different POVs and post them once the whole story is finished! I could start writing them now, but that would mean putting off finishing the story and making you all wait even longer for the "real" chapters. So I think it’s best to wait until the end.

That said, feel free to let me know if there are specific moments or chapters you’d love to see from another POV! I can’t promise I’ll write every single request, but I’ll definitely keep track of your preferences and consider them later! 😊✨

Thanks so much for reading, and enjoy your week! 💕

Chapter 32: Echoes of the Heart

Summary:

Jungkook's adorable date with Hoseok

With their plans set, Jungkook can't help but feel grateful. Even in the middle of all their busyness, the pack always seemed to know how to make him feel safe, cherished, and never alone. And now, with Hoseok’s offer, it felt like another step forward, another moment to grow even closer to them all.

Jungkook tugs his scarf higher over his mouth, trying to hide the growing smile that threatens to give him away. The sky stretches above them in an endless wash of grey, cold air nipping at his cheeks, but somehow, with Hoseok beside him, it doesn’t feel quite so dreary.

The beta had been frustratingly secretive about their destination, dodging Jungkook’s questions with a teasing grin and a playful, “Where’s the fun in ruining the surprise?”. He’d only told Jungkook to dress warmly and to wait while he packed a bag, his eyes twinkling with mischief the whole time.

And now, as they walk side by side down a path that leads out of the village, Jungkook feels excitement bubbling in his chest. It’s been so long since he’s stepped beyond the safety of the pack’s territory. He hasn't really been out since the alphas found him, but with Hoseok beside him, it doesn’t seem so scary.

Hoseok walks close—close enough that their arms brush every few steps, close enough that Jungkook can feel the easy warmth radiating off of him. He’s talking animatedly about the pups at school, a wide grin stretching across his face. “They’re all obsessed with you, Jungkookie,” he says, voice dripping with amusement. “I swear, it’s like you’re a legend or something.”

Jungkook blinks at him, caught off guard. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Hoseok nudges him playfully, his shoulder pressing into Jungkook’s before lingering for just a second too long. “Apparently, you’re the most fascinating thing in the entire village. The mysterious human with the big eyes and the soft scent—”

Jungkook stumbles over his next step, ears burning. “W-What?”

Hoseok grins, clearly pleased with the reaction. “Oh, yeah. They’ve got theories, you know. Some think you have secret powers. Some say you must be part omega, because how else could you smell so nice?” He leans in a little, his voice dropping just enough to make Jungkook’s stomach flutter. “And I have to say… I don’t disagree.”

Jungkook whines under his breath, turning his face further into his scarf. “You’re teasing me.”

“Maybe a little.” Hoseok winks. “But can you blame me? You make it too easy, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook grumbles something unintelligible, which only makes Hoseok laugh—rich and warm and so unbearably charming. Jungkook doesn’t even have time to recover before the beta nudges him again, eyes glinting with something unreadable. “You know, some of the pups said they want to grow up and be just like you.”

Jungkook startles, gaze snapping up. “Like me?”

“Mmhm.” Hoseok tilts his head, watching Jungkook with a fond expression. “They think you’re brave. They think you’re kind. And they’re right.”

Jungkook doesn’t know how to respond to that, his heart hammering too hard against his ribs. He lets out a small, uncertain noise and tugs his sleeves over his fingers, feeling entirely too flustered.

Hoseok just chuckles, slowing his pace slightly as their fingers brush. “You’re cute when you get shy, you know that?”

Jungkook groans, refusing to look at him. “Hoseok-hyung…”

“Alright, alright.” Hoseok grins, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll be good—for now.”

Jungkook exhales shakily, but despite himself, he finds his lips twitching at the edges. He still doesn’t know where they’re going, but with Hoseok beside him—smiling at him like that—he thinks he wouldn’t mind walking forever.

Jungkook bites down on his lip, trying to keep his thoughts in check, but it’s impossible. Being alone with Hoseok like this—knowing, truly knowing, that the beta is interested in him in a way that’s more than just friendly—has his heart pounding, his mind running wild.

Everything about Hoseok feels different now. More intense. More impossible to ignore.

Jungkook had always thought Hoseok smelled nice, warm and golden, soft lilacs under the warm sunlight. But now, that scent feels overwhelming, curling around him, pressing against his senses until all he can think about is how good it is. How much he wants to lean in and let it cling to his skin.

And then there’s Hoseok’s eyes—so bright, so pretty, always filled with something soft when they land on him. His smile, the kind that crinkles the edges of his eyes and makes Jungkook’s stomach flip. The way he walks beside him, close enough that their arms brush every now and then, close enough that Jungkook can feel the warmth radiating from him despite the winter chill in the air.

But the worst part—the most unbearable, thrilling part—is what Jungkook wants.

He wants Hoseok to scent him. Wants that warmth all over his skin. He wants Hoseok to look at him like this always, to let his gaze linger, to make him feel seen and wanted in a way that makes his knees weak. He wants to feel Hoseok’s hands on him, wants him to close the distance between them, wants to be held and—

Jungkook lets out a small, choked sound, his face burning hot.

He’s never thought about things like this before. Never wanted someone like this before. But now? Now it’s all he can think about, and it’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once. Ever since Jimin and Taehyung asked to court him, it’s as if a veil has been lifted—as if he’s suddenly seeing his hyungs in an entirely new light, noticing things he hadn’t before. It feels like rediscovering them all over again, every glance, every touch, every lingering moment now carrying a weight he can’t quite name.

Jungkook startles when he hears Hoseok’s voice, warm and gentle beside him.

“You okay, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook’s breath catches, his entire body going tense. He doesn’t dare look up, knowing his face must be burning. He keeps his eyes locked on the ground, on the path ahead, but it does nothing to slow the pounding of his heart.

Hoseok goes quiet for a beat, but then—

“Oh?” His voice shifts, the teasing edge unmistakable. “What’s got you all shy, hmm?”

Jungkook clenches his fists, shoulders curling inward. He knows. Of course, he knows.

“What are you thinking about?” Hoseok asks, low and amused.

Jungkook’s throat feels too tight to answer. His thoughts are too messy, too dangerous. But Hoseok doesn’t need words to figure him out.

His tone turns even more playful, laced with something that makes Jungkook’s stomach twist. “Wait—” Hoseok gasps, exaggerated like he’s just made a grand discovery. “Is it me? Is thinking about me making you all red like this?”

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head even though he knows the movement is weak, unconvincing. He still doesn’t look at him. He can’t.

But then—

“Ohh,” Hoseok muses, voice smooth, teasing. “So it’s not me then. Must be someone else.”

Jungkook’s head snaps up before he can think, before he can stop himself. “No! ” he blurts out, frantic, horrified at the very idea of Hoseok thinking he’s thinking of anyone else. The second the words leave his lips, he realizes.

The smirk that spreads across Hoseok’s face is slow, knowing, triumphant. It dawns on Jungkook then—Hoseok wanted him to say that. Wanted to make him confess, wanted to hear him say that he was the only one on Jungkook’s mind.

“Ohhh,” Hoseok drawls, voice smooth as silk, “so you were thinking about me.”

Jungkook’s face burns. He groans, throwing his hands over his cheeks, wishing he could sink into the ground. “I—That’s—” He shakes his head, heart pounding. “You tricked me.”

Hoseok only laughs, shameless and bright. But there’s something softer in the way he nudges Jungkook’s shoulder, something warm in the way he looks at him. “You’re cute, Jungkookie,” he murmurs, voice so gentle it makes Jungkook’s chest ache. “You don’t have to hide it. I like that you think about me.”

Jungkook whimpers and buries his face in his scarf, refusing to let Hoseok see just how much worse he’s made it. Hoseok chuckles beside him, walking just a little bit closer, close enough that their hands brush every few steps. Jungkook swears he’s going to die. His whole body feels hot despite the winter air biting at his skin. He’s never felt like this before. Never wanted to be near someone this badly. Never wanted to be wanted back like this and it's confusing him.

But now he knows for sure—he really, really likes Hoseok. They might not know much about each other yet, but he knows deep down that he likes him already. Jungkook is still burning from his own flustered confession when Hoseok suddenly hums, voice softer now, almost thoughtful.

“Well,” the beta muses, hands tucked casually in his pockets. “If it makes you feel better... I think about you too.”

Jungkook stumbles mid-step. His heart skips a beat before it picks up, thudding so hard against his ribs that he’s sure Hoseok can hear it. He barely has time to process the words, to believe them, before Hoseok drops the subject entirely and keeps walking like he hadn’t just set Jungkook’s whole world off balance.

Jungkook doesn’t know how he manages to keep moving, but he follows, cheeks burning, mind racing.

They walk for a while, the only sounds around them the crunch of snow beneath their boots and the distant rustling of wind through the trees. The path winds gently, leading them deeper into the forest, and Jungkook can’t help but feel at peace, wrapped in the quiet, in the cold, in Hoseok’s warmth beside him.

Then, suddenly—

“Oh.”

Jungkook stops in his tracks, eyes widening as he takes in the sight before him.

A lake.

A breathtaking, frozen lake.

It stretches out before them like a mirror to the sky, vast and untouched, a thin layer of fresh snow settled across its surface. The edges are framed by towering pines dusted in white, their branches swaying gently with the wind. Everything looks soft, almost otherworldly, like something out of a dream.

Jungkook exhales, breath misting in the cold air. “It’s beautiful.”

Hoseok, standing beside him, grins. “Right? That’s why I picked it.”

Jungkook blinks, tearing his eyes away from the scenery to look at him. “Picked it?”

Hoseok doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he crouches down, setting his bag on the snow-covered ground. Jungkook watches, curious, as he rummages inside—until he finally pulls something out and holds it up with a triumphant smile.

Two pairs of ice skates.

Jungkook stares.

Hoseok grins wider. “We’re going ice skating.”

Jungkook blinks again, slow and disbelieving. “What?”

Hoseok’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “A cute little ice-skating date,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Jungkook stares at him, then at the skates, then at the lake, then back at Hoseok.

He doesn’t even know how to skate. He has never had the opportunity to try it. But when Hoseok looks at him like that, warm and expectant and so happy—Jungkook thinks he would do anything for him.

“I’ve never done it before,” he says, quieter this time, but Hoseok catches it easily.

Hoseok reacts instantly, his smile stretching slow and knowing, like he’s just been given something precious—something he plans to savor. His eyes flicker with amusement first, playful and teasing, but then they soften, something warmer creeping into his gaze as he steps just a little closer. The shift is subtle, but Jungkook feels it everywhere. The space between them isn’t much to begin with, but now it feels tiny, charged with something thick and buzzing, something that makes Jungkook’s fingers curl into the ends of his sleeves.

“Oh?” Hoseok hums, tilting his head as he watches Jungkook carefully. His voice is light, playful, but underneath it, there’s something else. Something intentional. “That means you’ll be completely dependent on me today then?”

Jungkook’s breath catches, and he hates that Hoseok notices. He knows Hoseok notices, because the beta’s eyes darken just the slightest bit, his lips twitching like he’s holding back another grin.

Hoseok lets the words linger between them, letting them settle in Jungkook’s chest before continuing, “I like that thought,” he admits, voice dipping just slightly. His eyes don’t waver, don’t break away, holding Jungkook’s gaze like he’s waiting—like he’s testing him. “I like the idea of being the first person to teach you.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, gripping his sleeves tighter. His stomach feels strange—warm, fluttery, twisting in a way that makes it difficult to think properly. It’s stupid. It’s so stupid. This is just Hoseok being Hoseok. Light, teasing, playful Hoseok. But it doesn’t feel just playful. Not when Jungkook’s skin is prickling, not when his mind keeps replaying those words over and over.

I like the idea of being the first person to teach you.

Something about that makes his stomach dip, like he’s teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

Hoseok shifts slightly, feigning thoughtfulness, before his eyes drop, slow and deliberate, down the length of Jungkook’s frame. “And if that’s the case…” he muses, his voice turning contemplative, yet still thick with amusement, “I guess I’ll just have to make sure to keep my hands on you then, make sure you don't fall.”

Then, as if the words themselves hadn’t been enough, he winks.

Jungkook’s entire body locks up.

His face goes hot, a wildfire spreading down his neck, his skin burning with a heat that has nothing to do with the cold air around them. His mind blanks, unable to process anything beyond Hoseok winking at him and Hoseok saying those things to him and Hoseok looking at him like that.

It’s too much.

It’s way too much.

And what makes it worse—what makes it so much worse—is the fact that Jungkook likes it.

He likes the thought of Hoseok holding him.
He likes the idea of Hoseok staying close, of keeping his hands on him, of being the first to teach him.
He likes the way Hoseok teases him, the way his voice drops just enough to make the words feel heavier, more meaningful.

And worst of all—he likes how easily Hoseok can do this to him. How effortlessly he can make Jungkook feel hot and flustered and so, so affected.

It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once because he's never felt anything like this before.

Jungkook barely has time to breathe, barely has time to process the overwhelming heat curling in his stomach before Hoseok is kneeling in front of him, hands reaching for his ankles. The shift is so smooth, so effortless, that it takes Jungkook a second to even understand what’s happening—why Hoseok is suddenly at his feet, fingers working at the laces of his boots with such deliberate care.

And then it hits him.

Hoseok is taking off his shoes.

Hoseok is undressing him—no, helping him, but Jungkook’s brain is absolutely refusing to separate the two, especially not when Hoseok’s fingers are so careful, so impossibly gentle. Each movement is precise, delicate, like he’s handling something fragile, something precious. And it’s too much, it’s all too much.

Jungkook doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath until Hoseok looks up at him, his eyes bright with amusement, a small smirk playing on his lips like he knows. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing to Jungkook right now, like he’s enjoying the way Jungkook has gone utterly still beneath his touch.

But then, as if the moment wasn’t already unbearable, Hoseok takes it a step further.

After slipping off Jungkook’s shoes, he picks up one of the ice skates, slipping it onto Jungkook’s foot with such ease, such casual intimacy, that Jungkook nearly combusts on the spot. He swallows thickly, staring down at the top of Hoseok’s head as the beta carefully adjusts the fit, tugging the laces snug before tying them into a neat, pretty bow.

Jungkook thinks that’s it, that the moment is over, that he might actually be able to gather his scattered thoughts—

—but then Hoseok is smoothing his hands along Jungkook’s calf, a final, absentminded touch as if to check his work, and Jungkook feels it, feels the heat of Hoseok’s palms burning through the thick fabric of his pants.

He thinks he might pass out. Hoseok isn’t doing anything out of the ordinary, yet every little action of his sends a wave of heat through Jungkook, making him feel lightheaded. He doesn’t understand why he’s reacting so intensely to his touch—whether it’s just the way people feel when they like someone, or if this is something unique to him, something only he feels.

And then, just when he thinks he can’t take any more, Hoseok stands.

He moves too close, looming over Jungkook in a way that feels entirely intentional, and before Jungkook can react, before he can even think, Hoseok reaches out, his fingers brushing against Jungkook’s temple as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

It’s so soft.

So effortless.

And when Hoseok leans back, his smile is blinding, his eyes warm and pleased, like he’s completely oblivious to the absolute havoc he’s just wreaked on Jungkook’s entire nervous system.

Jungkook doesn’t breathe again until Hoseok finally pulls away, finally turns his attention to his own skates, bending to slip them on with practiced ease. But even then—even then—he doesn’t let go of Jungkook. One hand stays firm on Jungkook’s knee, steadying him, making sure he doesn’t fall, and the weight of it is unbearable, grounding in a way that Jungkook doesn’t want to think about too much.

He doesn’t know how long it takes before they’re both finally ready, before Hoseok is tightening the last lace and standing to his full height again. But then the beta is stepping onto the ice, his movements smooth, practiced, as if he’s done this a million times before.

Jungkook watches him, entranced, only vaguely aware of the way the edge of the lake slopes downward, the small incline making the transition from solid ground to ice just steep enough to be scary. He’s just about to ask how he’s supposed to get down—

—when Hoseok suddenly grabs him by the waist.

Jungkook yelps.

There’s no time to react, no time to process—just a firm grip, steady and sure, before Hoseok pulls him forward in one fluid motion. Jungkook’s stomach drops, his entire body lurching as the world tilts around him, the sudden shift making his breath catch—

—and then, just as quickly, he’s caught.

Hoseok’s hands don’t falter. They tighten around his waist, strong and warm, keeping Jungkook steady as his feet touch the ice for the first time. His balance wobbles instantly, legs shaking under him, but before he can fall, before he can even fathom the possibility, Hoseok is there, pressing close, holding him upright like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

And Jungkook can’t think.

He can’t breathe.

Because Hoseok’s hands are still on him, fingers firm against his hips, burning through the layers of his coat. Because Hoseok is so close, his body just inches away, his scent thick in the cold air between them—warm and rich. Because Jungkook’s body is betraying him, tilting forward, wanting to lean into that touch, wanting more.

His fingers twitch at his sides, his throat tightening as he looks up, and when his gaze locks onto Hoseok’s, his stomach plummets.

Because Hoseok is looking at him like that.

Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
Like he likes having his hands on him.
Like he’s just waiting—waiting for Jungkook to acknowledge it, to admit it.

Jungkook’s heart hammers wildly, his skin tingling, his thoughts a frantic, jumbled mess as he tries to process the fact that he’s currently being held by Hoseok, that Hoseok is touching him so easily, so casually, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe, maybe the worst part of it all is that Jungkook doesn’t want him to let go.

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat as he finds himself instinctively reaching for Hoseok. His legs are still shaky on the ice, unsure, and he needs something—someone—to steady him. But it’s more than just his balance that makes him latch onto Hoseok. It’s the sheer need to touch him, to feel his presence grounding him in this moment.

His hands grip the fabric of Hoseok’s coat, pulling himself closer, until he’s practically pressed up against the beta. The warmth of Hoseok’s body soothes the cold air biting at his skin, and Jungkook feels a surge of comfort, of safety—and maybe, just maybe, a little something more.

Hoseok seems pleased by the sudden closeness, a small smile tugging at his lips as he keeps his arm securely around Jungkook’s waist, holding him firm. There’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he tilts his head, his voice warm and teasing when he speaks.

"Don’t worry, Kookie. I’ll teach you. You’ll be skating like a pro in no time." His hand slides just a fraction lower, his fingers pressing against the curve of Jungkook’s hip, and the contact sends a jolt of heat racing through his body.

They start moving, slow at first, with Hoseok guiding him gently across the ice. The beta shifts their positions, guiding Jungkook forward, making sure they don’t go too fast. His strong arm stays wrapped around Jungkook’s waist, keeping him close—protecting him, or maybe just enjoying the closeness.

Jungkook can’t help but be a little flustered by how natural this feels, how easy it is to stay close, to rely on Hoseok like this. The awkwardness starts to melt away as they glide along the ice, the friction between their bodies no longer a concern. Instead, there’s a soft, steady rhythm between them, their movements flowing together as they move further from the edge.

Jungkook’s confidence builds quickly as the moments pass. He feels more steady on his feet, the wobbly uncertainty giving way to a more secure grip on the ice. Hoseok’s hand stays firmly around his waist, guiding him without pushing, and Jungkook can’t help but relax into it.

His grip on Hoseok loosens, just enough that he can feel the cold air rushing past him, but Hoseok’s presence—his touch—keeps him grounded. The further they go, the less he worries about falling. And it’s not just the skating, it’s Hoseok’s reassuring presence, the beta’s warmth seeping into him, making him feel safe. Comfortable.

Finally, they reach the middle of the lake. It’s breathtaking—the entire area surrounded by tall pines, their branches dusted with a light layer of snow. But it’s the sight right in front of them that catches Jungkook’s attention. Blankets. Cushions. A cozy little setup right there on the ice, nestled in the middle of nowhere, just for the two of them. The soft fabrics are a stark contrast to the cold, white expanse of the frozen lake. Jungkook blinks, his heart leaping in his chest as he looks at Hoseok, who’s standing just behind him, a satisfied grin on his face.

“What... what is this?” Jungkook asks, his voice breathless with surprise.

Hoseok chuckles, a low, amused sound, as he finally loosens his hold on Jungkook’s waist. “Well, I may or may not have gotten a little help with planning this,” Hoseok says, his voice playful as he shrugs, feigning innocence. "You know, while you were asleep last night. Thought it might be a nice little surprise for you." He winks at Jungkook, that trademark mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.

Jungkook just stares at him for a moment, his heart fluttering in his chest. Hoseok had gone out of his way to plan this—to create something special, just for the two of them. No one had ever done something like this for him. The thought sends a warm feeling straight through him, and he can’t suppress the smile that spreads across his face. It’s like Hoseok had thought of everything, from the blankets to the secluded spot in the middle of the ice. It’s perfect.

He looks back at the blankets and cushions, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. The tension from earlier—everything he’d been feeling, the nervous excitement and the confusion—seems to melt away as he realizes how much effort Hoseok has put into this. And in this moment, all that matters is the beta standing next to him, the warmth of his presence, and the soft invitation in his eyes.

It’s a perfect date. Jungkook may have never been on a date before, but deep down, he just knows this one is different—this one feels perfect.

Hoseok takes his time with Jungkook, patient and encouraging. He shows him how to stand without wobbling, how to keep his knees slightly bent, his body balanced. Every movement feels new, thrilling, and with Hoseok beside him, guiding him, Jungkook quickly starts to feel more at ease. They go through the basics, slowly but surely, as Hoseok shows him how to move forward with ease and glide along the ice, how to move backward just as gracefully, and most importantly, how to stop without falling.

At first, Jungkook struggles, his legs wobbling with each attempt, but Hoseok never lets go, never lets him fall. He holds onto Jungkook’s arm with just the right amount of support, and with every success, no matter how small, Hoseok’s face lights up with an approving smile. "You’re a fast learner," Hoseok says, his voice warm with pride. "I didn’t think it would be this easy."

Jungkook beams, the encouragement lifting his spirits even higher. "I think you’re just a good teacher," he replies shyly, still holding onto the confidence that Hoseok has instilled in him.

As they skate side by side, the silence between them feels comfortable, filled with the soft sounds of their skates gliding on the ice. The wind picks up, carrying the faint scent of pine and crisp winter air, and with it, Jungkook feels like the world has narrowed down to just this moment. Just him and Hoseok.

After a while, Hoseok begins to talk, his voice light and easy, like they’ve known each other for years. "I grew up in a different pack," Hoseok starts, his eyes distant, as if lost in memory. "It wasn’t anything too fancy. Just a small, close-knit group. But I was always a little... different from the others." He glances over at Jungkook, his smile softening. "I guess you could say I was always looking for something more. Something... bigger, you know?"

Jungkook listens intently, not wanting to interrupt, but unable to tear his gaze away from Hoseok as the beta continues. "I met Namjoonie one day, at the trading markets," Hoseok continues, his voice quieter now, almost fond. "He was buying some herbs, and I was there to trade some pelts. I’d seen him around before—he’s hard to miss, right? Tall, strong, an alpha with a presence—but that day, something about him just... caught me."

Hoseok’s smile widens, and he shakes his head as if remembering a moment too sweet to forget. "We kept meeting there. Over and over again. I don’t know if it was fate, or just bad luck, but every time I went to the market, Namjoon would be there.

It started with small talk, you know? A comment on the weather, a quick exchange of goods, but then it turned into something more. We’d start meeting outside the market. A walk here, a meal there." Hoseok chuckles softly. "I think it was him who realized first. That I... liked him. And I’m not exactly subtle about these things, so it didn’t take long for him to catch on."

Jungkook feels a sense of awe at Hoseok’s story, his heart fluttering with each word. The way Hoseok speaks about Namjoon, so genuine, so filled with admiration and love, makes Jungkook’s chest ache. He can almost see it—Hoseok, younger, looking for something and finding it in the strong, confident alpha.

"But it wasn’t just Namjoonie," Hoseok adds with a little smirk, as if he’s suddenly remembering something else. "I also met Seokjin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung around the same time. They were already mated with Joonie, I guess they weren’t too bothered to see him getting close to me." He pauses, his gaze flicking back to Jungkook. "They were always so sweet to me. So, we... courted. All of us. And it wasn’t exactly what I expected, It was intense but it felt right. It felt like home."

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest as he processes Hoseok’s words. A part of him feels a little lost, confused by how natural the love between the four of them seems. But another part of him, the part that’s starting to grow closer to Hoseok, feels warmth spreading in his chest. He can’t imagine it yet, but he can see the tenderness in Hoseok’s eyes, the way his voice softens when he talks about his pack, and for the first time, Jungkook wonders if he might be a part of something just as beautiful, just as real.

Hoseok’s playful smirk deepens, and he leans a little closer to Jungkook, the warm air between them filled with quiet, tantalizing tension. "Well," he begins, his voice low and teasing, "there’s someone new I’ve got my sights on." He doesn’t even wait for Jungkook’s reaction, his eyes glinting with mischief. "And I’m going to make sure you know exactly how much I like you. Every little bit of it."

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, a blush instantly sweeping across his face. His heart rate spikes, and for a moment, he wonders if Hoseok can hear it too. He quickly looks away, feeling the heat of his cheeks, but Hoseok doesn’t miss a thing. He watches Jungkook flounder, the beta’s expression full of amusement, like he’s savoring every moment of his growing embarrassment.

Jungkook swallows hard, trying to muster the courage to speak, his voice coming out breathless. "W-Why do you keep doing that? Flustering me on purpose?" His fingers twitch at his sides, desperate to somehow hide the racing of his heart. The way Hoseok looks at him, with that teasing warmth and sparkling eyes, is both comforting and terrifying all at once. It makes his insides twist in ways he’s not sure he’s ready to admit.

Hoseok lets out a soft chuckle, and Jungkook feels his entire body heat up even more. He steps in closer, just enough that Jungkook feels the weight of his presence, feels the warmth of him against the cool air. "Oh, there are a few reasons," Hoseok replies, the smile on his lips both playful and intimate. "But," he adds, his voice dipping lower, a teasing glint in his eyes, "telling you might just fluster you even more than you already are."

Jungkook feels like he’s about to combust. The air between them is charged, crackling with something electric that makes his skin tingle with every second. Hoseok’s words, his presence, everything about him is overwhelming in the best and most terrifying ways. Jungkook can’t help but wonder just what Hoseok would say if he told him the truth—that every word, every glance from the beta makes him want to pull him closer. But he doesn’t say it. Not yet.

Instead, he just shakes his head, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips. "I... don’t know if I can handle any more of your teasing, hyung," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

The way Hoseok’s grin widens, his gaze softening with something warmer, makes Jungkook’s heart flip. "Oh, Kookie," Hoseok murmurs, his hand brushing against Jungkook’s arm in a tender, almost possessive gesture. "I think you’re stronger than you realize. And as for the teasing..." He pauses, a mischievous glint still dancing in his eyes. "I think I’m just getting started."

Jungkook’s curiosity wins out over his flustered nerves, and before he can stop himself, the words are out. "I... I want to know," he says softly, almost breathlessly. It’s as if something inside of him shifts—a mix of curiosity and a need to please Hoseok, to understand him better, to unravel the beta’s teasing nature. The feeling of being flustered... he doesn't mind it as much as he thought he would. Because Hoseok likes it. And maybe he likes it too.

The moment he speaks, Hoseok's eyes darken just a fraction, and his lips curl into that familiar, knowing smile. He steps forward, closing the space between them, until he’s standing so close that Jungkook can feel the warmth radiating from him, can smell the soft, comforting scent of Hoseok that sends his heart racing. His breath hitches at the proximity, but he doesn’t pull away. He wants to hear this. He wants to know why Hoseok keeps doing this to him.

Hoseok leans down slightly, his voice dropping low, velvety, and full of intention. "You want to know, huh?" he murmurs, his gaze locked on Jungkook’s, making the younger man feel exposed, vulnerable. Jungkook nods, silently encouraging him to continue, even as his heart pounds harder in his chest. His face is still flushed, and he can’t help but wonder if Hoseok can see it.

Hoseok suddenly reaches forward, his hand quick but gentle as it catches Jungkook’s chin. He gently forces their gazes to meet, his fingers firm as they press under his jaw, lifting his face. Jungkook gasps in surprise, eyes wide, but he can’t look away. Hoseok’s grip is gentle, but unyielding, and there’s no escape from the weight of his gaze.

"You blush so prettily when you’re flustered," Hoseok says, his voice rich with satisfaction, like he’s enjoying every second of seeing Jungkook squirm. "You get this adorable pink blush all over your face, and your eyes get so wide, like a little doe caught off guard." He pauses, his gaze softening, and Jungkook feels his breath catch in his throat. "It makes you look so vulnerable, so... endearing."

Jungkook’s cheeks heat even more, and he can’t help but shift uncomfortably on the ice, but Hoseok’s presence keeps him rooted in place. Hoseok reaches out, brushing a hand gently against his cheek, the touch sending a jolt through him. "You know what I like the most?" Hoseok continues, his voice barely above a whisper now. "The way your scent spikes when you get flustered."

Jungkook’s heart stops, and his breath catches in his throat. He hadn’t even realized it, but his body reacts to Hoseok in ways he doesn’t understand. He feels his pulse quicken, and Hoseok’s next words make his breath hitch in his throat.

"You smell so sweet, Kookie. So... intoxicating," Hoseok murmurs, his eyes dark with intent as he leans in just a little closer. "It’s like the more you get flustered, the sweeter you smell. Like a sweet treat, right there in front of me, and I can feel it in the air between us."

Jungkook feels his whole body flush with heat, his scent, his emotions, everything mixing together. He’s never felt so exposed, so... seen. And yet, there’s something so comforting about Hoseok’s words, the way he speaks to him. His heart thunders in his chest as he tries to hold onto his composure, but it’s impossible when Hoseok looks at him like that.

"I—" Jungkook starts, his voice shaky, but Hoseok just smiles gently, placing a finger to his lips.

"Don’t say anything," he whispers, his voice laced with affection and something more dangerous. "You don’t need to say anything. I can smell it, feel it—everything about you is telling me exactly what you want."

Jungkook shudders at Hoseok’s words, a new feeling rushing through him. There’s a heady mixture of desire, vulnerability, and something deeper that makes his chest tighten. Hoseok isn’t just teasing him anymore. He’s showing him something, something new and intense. And Jungkook’s not sure how to handle it, but he doesn’t want to pull away. Not when Hoseok makes him feel like this.

Hoseok takes a step back, his smile softening just a little, but the warmth in his eyes doesn’t fade. "I’m glad you wanted to know, Kookie," he says, his voice a little more teasing, but there’s an underlying tenderness that makes Jungkook’s heart race even more. "Maybe you’ll understand a little better now, huh?"

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, his heart still thudding in his chest. Everything about Hoseok leaves Jungkook feeling breathless, like a sudden rush of whiplash that he can't quite escape. All he can do is nod silently, the weight of Hoseok’s words settling in his mind, making him feel a mix of warmth, curiosity, and something else he doesn’t quite understand yet. But he’s sure he wants to.

Before Jungkook can even process everything happening—his racing heart, his buzzing mind, the way Hoseok’s words have his body aflame—Hoseok suddenly asks, voice warm yet teasing, "Dance with me, Kookie?"

"Dance?" Jungkook asks, his voice a little breathless, unsure if he's hearing this correctly. On the ice? Is that even possible? But Hoseok doesn't wait for him to overthink it. His hand are already reaching for Jungkook’s, fingers gentle yet firm, pulling him forward.

"Come on," Hoseok murmurs, his voice a soft command that makes Jungkook shiver, "Trust me." And before Jungkook can respond, Hoseok pulls him into a gentle twirl, guiding him effortlessly on the ice. The cold beneath their feet, the slippery surface, all forgotten in the moment.

Jungkook's breath catches as he moves with Hoseok, his body light as the beta leads him in the dance. It feels surreal, this unexpected intimacy on the ice, surrounded by the vast stillness of the frozen lake. But it’s also thrilling. Hoseok’s touch, so gentle yet so strong, makes his heart race in a way he’s never felt before.

When the dance slows, Hoseok leans in, his lips close to Jungkook’s ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down his spine. "From now on," Hoseok says, his voice low and teasing, "you're not allowed to let another man twirl you. You're mine, Kookie."

The words hit Jungkook like a wave. Mine. He feels a rush of possessiveness in his chest, something primal, but also oddly comforting. He knows exactly what Hoseok means, and the weight of those words has him flushing, heart pounding even harder. He never imagined he’d actually like hearing those words, not after everything. Not after Sungil. They were usually tied to fear and pain. But when Hoseok says them now, it feels completely different—like they’ve been stripped of their past weight and filled with something entirely new.

Before he can even respond, Hoseok gives him a knowing look and says, "Say it."

Jungkook, flushes but doesn't back down, he meets Hoseok's gaze and replies, voice just above a whisper, "I won't let someone else twirl me." There’s no hesitation in his words, no doubt. It's the truth. Somehow, he feels a strange sense of power saying those words, as if the act of choosing to speak them makes them his own. Hoseok smiles, a wicked glint in his eyes that makes Jungkook's stomach flip.

"Good," Hoseok murmurs, pulling him even closer.

The temperature between them rises as Hoseok's hands find their place on Jungkook's hips, fingers warm and firm. Jungkook's breath catches at the touch, his heart thumping so loudly in his chest that he swears Hoseok can hear it. The feeling of his hands on him, strong, tender... it's too much. Too overwhelming.

But Jungkook doesn’t want to pull away. He feels a fire stir within him, ignited by Hoseok’s proximity, by the way his fingers trace along his hips, pressing into the soft fabric of his clothes. It’s intimate, intentional, and the worst part is, Jungkook wants more. He craves the warmth of Hoseok’s touch, the way he makes his pulse race, the way he feels wanted, like this is more than just a simple dance.

Jungkook can feel his scent spike, can sense the way it shifts in the air—sweet, heady. He knows Hoseok can feel it too. He doesn’t need to look up to know. It’s in the way Hoseok’s grip tightens, in the way his eyes darken, in the way his scent grows stronger around them, filling the space between them.

"You like this, don’t you?" Hoseok teases, his voice a low. He leans in even closer, his lips brushing against Jungkook’s ear. "You like me touching you."

Jungkook can't help the way his body responds to the proximity, to the way Hoseok touches him. His scent, his voice, the heat between them—it’s all too much to ignore, too much to fight. But even in this overwhelming moment, with new feelings he doesn't understand, Jungkook wants to be closer. He wants to feel Hoseok’s hands on him, to have his scent engulf him, to be lost in the moment with him.

"Yeah," Jungkook breathes out, his voice barely audible, but enough for Hoseok to hear. "I like it."

Hoseok’s lips curl into a satisfied smile, and Jungkook knows that this is just the beginning of something—something he isn’t sure how to handle, but something he’s willing to explore. With Hoseok.

"I knew you would," Hoseok whispers, pressing his body just a little closer. 

And as they continue to skate, the world around them fades. There’s nothing but the warmth of their bodies close together, the pull of their connection, and the shared rhythm of the dance. It’s intimate, it’s tender, and it feels like Hoseok is claiming a part of him—without saying it outright, but with every touch, every word, every little tease.

Jungkook knows it’s more than just a dance. It’s a promise.

They dance for a little while longer, bodies swaying with the rhythm of the world around them. The soft scrape of their skates on the ice is drowned out by the sound of the wind whispering through the pine trees and the distant calls of birds. There’s no need for music—just the simple, quiet harmony of their movement. Hoseok’s arms around Jungkook feel like a steady anchor, and Jungkook, in return, holds on just as tightly, as though he never wants to let go. The world feels so small and intimate in that moment, just the two of them, alone on the ice.

Time seems to slow, and the tension that had built up earlier melts into something softer, something more comfortable. In Hoseok's arms, Jungkook forgets everything else. He forgets the worry and the doubt that often crowd his mind, forgets the heaviness of his past, and for a moment, he simply allows himself to exist in the here and now.

When Hoseok finally pulls back, it’s as if the air around them shifts, and Jungkook realizes how long they’ve been dancing. He blinks, the cold air finally biting at his skin as the sun climbs higher in the sky. Hoseok smiles at him, eyes crinkling with that playful, warm look that always seems to make Jungkook’s heart flutter.

"It’s almost lunchtime," Hoseok says softly, his voice tinged with affection. "Come on, let me show you something."

Jungkook follows Hoseok on the ice, his heart still racing in the aftermath of their dance. The beta leads him toward a pile of soft blankets and pillows that have been set up on the ice—surprisingly cozy in the cold. It’s a stark contrast to the chill of the surrounding world, and the warmth of the blankets immediately invites Jungkook to relax. When he sees the food—steaming bowls of soup, fresh bread, and fruit laid out neatly—it only makes him feel more awestruck. Hoseok really had thought of everything.

Hoseok grins, looking pleased with himself.

They both settle on the blankets, and Hoseok immediately shifts closer, making sure to sit just next to Jungkook. He doesn’t need much space between them. Jungkook finds it comforting, having Hoseok so close, the heat from his body like a magnet pulling him in.

The moment they sit down on the blankets, the air between them shifts, crackling with tension. Hoseok’s presence is magnetic, drawing Jungkook in without even trying. He’s close, too close, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He doesn’t want to move away. His heart races a little faster as Hoseok adjusts his position, settling in beside him, their sides brushing. It feels natural, effortless, like this is how it’s supposed to be. But everything about this moment has Jungkook feeling flustered, even before Hoseok opens his mouth.

"Let me take care of you, Kookie," Hoseok says, his voice smooth, low, like he’s savoring the words. His hand brushes over Jungkook’s knee, sending a jolt of heat through him. “You’re always. Let me make sure you're well-fed.”

Jungkook nods, unsure of how to respond, but Hoseok’s teasing smile makes it hard to focus on anything else. The way Hoseok looks at him makes his stomach flip. It’s a knowing look, like Hoseok sees through every guard Jungkook puts up. But then, out of nowhere, Hoseok picks up a piece of bread and holds it up to Jungkook’s lips, his fingers brushing his mouth just a little.

"Open your mouth, Kookie," Hoseok commands, his tone playful yet with an edge that makes Jungkook’s breath hitch. His heart skips a beat. Jungkook swallows hard, the words hanging heavy in the air. Something about Hoseok’s voice, the way he says his name, sends a rush of heat straight to Jungkook’s chest.

“W-what?” Jungkook stammers, looking up at him, his face already turning a shade of red.

"You heard me," Hoseok smirks, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Open your mouth. I’m feeding you, so let me do it right." There’s something in Hoseok’s gaze that makes Jungkook’s pulse race. He feels heat pooling in his stomach, his mouth going dry.

Hesitantly, he opens his mouth, but the moment Hoseok’s fingers graze his lips, he feels a shiver run down his spine. The light pressure of Hoseok’s fingertips on his skin is almost too much to handle. He feels the warmth of Hoseok’s hand, feels the softness of his skin as his fingers slide just a little more, brushing his lower lip before pulling the piece of bread away and placing it gently on Jungkook’s tongue.

“Good boy,” Hoseok whispers, the words so soft, so intimate, that Jungkook thinks he might melt right there. He swallows the bread quickly, but his throat feels tight, constricted from the intensity of the moment. His heart races. Hoseok’s fingers are still so close, just inches from his lips, as if giving Jungkook just enough time to savor the sensation.

Hoseok leans in a little closer, his lips brushing against Jungkook’s ear as he whispers, “You look so pretty when you’re flustered. It’s cute.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. He’s completely caught off guard. The words are simple enough, but the way Hoseok says them, with that low, teasing voice, makes Jungkook’s whole body tingle. He’s so aware of every small touch now, of every inch of Hoseok’s body near his own. His face is hot, his hands shaking as he tries to take a breath, but it’s difficult when his next words hit him like a shock.

“Open again,” Hoseok commands again, his voice low and smooth. “Let me feed you properly.”

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest, but he doesn’t say anything. He just opens his mouth again, this time with a little more hesitance, unsure of whether he’s doing this because Hoseok wants it or because he wants it too. His lips part, and Hoseok’s fingers brush his mouth again, this time slipping past his lower lip and into his mouth to place a bite of fruit onto his tongue. Jungkook feels his breath catch, his body tensing as Hoseok’s fingers linger just a moment longer than necessary. 

He realizes then that he's not doing this just because Hoseok wants it or because he wants to please his hyung. He's doing this because he genuinely wants Hoseok to feed him, to take care of him. It’s more than that—it gives him a sense of surrender, a quiet, comforting release, like he's willingly giving Hoseok control.

“You smell so sweet,” Hoseok murmurs, his voice low and full of something that makes Jungkook’s chest tighten. “I could feed you all day if it meant I got to keep you like this.”

Jungkook’s cheeks burn with embarrassment, his heart thundering in his chest. But he likes it, really likes it. He can’t help but look down, feeling the weight of Hoseok’s gaze on him, like he’s being seen for everything he is—vulnerable, exposed, and desperate to please.

“You don’t have to be shy, Kookie,” Hoseok says, his voice thick with something that makes Jungkook’s pulse race. “I want you to enjoy this. To enjoy me taking care of you.”

Jungkook’s lips part again, but this time he’s not sure he can control the fluttering in his stomach. Hoseok’s fingers move gently over his lips again, tracing the outline before pulling away with a satisfied grin, leaving Jungkook breathless and completely aware of every single little touch. Hoseok’s scent fills his senses, overwhelming him, and it’s like he can’t escape it. It’s intoxicating.

"You're making this so easy," Hoseok says softly, his voice smooth and full of affection. "I just want to make you blush even more, Kookie."

Jungkook opens his mouth again, but this time, he’s not sure if he can handle it. But Hoseok just smiles, leaning in close to whisper in his ear once again, “You’re being so good for me.”

And Jungkook is left breathless, consumed by the weight of those words, the warmth of Hoseok's touch lingering on his skin.

Jungkook is frozen, unable to move, consumed by the heat coursing through his veins. Every word Hoseok says, every touch, makes him feel more and more like he’s falling into something deeper, something he’s not sure how to stop. But part of him doesn’t want to stop. He wants to give himself to Hoseok in a way he’s never allowed himself before. His heart hammers in his chest, and with each breath, he feels like he’s falling even further.

When Hoseok’s fingers hover near his mouth again, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. He opens his mouth obediently, wanting nothing more than to please the beta who’s slowly but surely wrapping him around his finger. Each bite that Hoseok feeds him fills him with warmth—not just from the food, but from the intimate way Hoseok feeds him, the way his fingers brush his lips, the way his voice lingers in the air like a delicious secret.

It makes him feel cherished, in a way that he didn’t think he’d ever feel. Every touch, every word, drives him crazy, makes his insides twist in want. But more than that, he’s grateful for it. For Hoseok’s attention, his care, the way the beta treats him with so much tenderness.

“Good boy,” Hoseok murmurs after feeding him another piece, his gaze locked on Jungkook with that same predatory intensity. “You’re so obedient for me, Kookie.”

Jungkook shivers at the words, his heart skipping a beat. He wants to pull away, but something inside him tells him not to. To stay still, to let Hoseok keep doing whatever he wants. He can feel the warmth in his chest swelling, expanding. It feels too good to stop, to pull away.

Hoseok doesn’t stop feeding him. He takes his time, savoring the moment, feeding Jungkook piece after piece until Jungkook feels pleasantly full. But even as the warmth spreads through his body, it’s not enough. There’s something else—something more. Jungkook wants more of Hoseok, and he knows it’s dangerous. But he can’t stop it. Not when the tension between them is so thick.

“You’ve been so good for me, Kookie,” Hoseok finally says, his voice low, a deep rumble that vibrates in Jungkook’s chest. “I can’t wait to do this again. But next time,” he adds, his voice taking on a darker edge, “Maybe I'll have you sit on my lap.”

Jungkook’s heart leaps in his chest, and before he can stop it, a quiet, embarrassed whimper escapes his lips. He can’t control it, not when Hoseok’s words hit him like that, not when the weight of them makes his body react before his mind can catch up. His cheeks burn, but he doesn’t look away. He can feel Hoseok’s gaze on him, feel the heat between them, and it only makes his pulse race faster.

Hoseok grins, his eyes darkening with amusement and something else, something predatory. “You know,” he says, his voice smooth and teasing, “making sounds like that is very dangerous, pup.”

Jungkook swallows hard, feeling the pit of his stomach tighten. Hoseok’s hand slides to his waist, his fingers brushing lightly against his skin, a stark contrast to the heated tension that’s been building between them. The air feels thick, like it’s vibrating with electricity, and Jungkook’s heart hammers in his chest. Hoseok’s next words make his body freeze, a shiver running through him.

“Shifters are predators,” Hoseok continues, his voice low and dangerous, filled with a barely restrained hunger. “And you,” he adds, his eyes locked on Jungkook’s with an intensity that makes Jungkook’s breath catch, “make me want to give chase when you sound like that.”

The words hit Jungkook like a punch to the gut, and all he can do is stare at Hoseok, frozen in place. He’s not sure if he’s intimidated or excited or a mix of both, definitely both, but the tension between them is unbearable. Hoseok’s scent is thick in the air, intoxicating, making Jungkook dizzy. His mind races with thoughts, and his body betrays him, his hands trembling slightly as he grips the blanket beneath him.

Hoseok’s gaze doesn’t waver, and Jungkook can feel it, like Hoseok’s eyes are tracking every inch of him. There’s no escaping the intensity of it. No escaping the weight of Hoseok’s words.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me, Kookie,” Hoseok murmurs, voice thick. He moves closer, his hand lingering just barely on Jungkook’s waist, almost as if he’s waiting for the right moment to pull him in. “You make me want to push you, make you want me just as much as I want you.”

Jungkook’s chest tightens. His body is screaming at him to move, to get closer, to feel more of Hoseok, but his mind is too overwhelmed to make a move. Every instinct inside him tells him to stay still, to let Hoseok take the lead, to let Hoseok pull him in and show him what all these words mean.

But Jungkook can’t help it. He’s drawn to Hoseok, to the beta who’s captured his attention, who’s captured his heart. And he wants it. He wants all of it. He wants Hoseok to chase him. He wants to be his.

The tension between them feels suffocating as Jungkook’s gaze lingers on Hoseok, eyes half-lidded, studying the beta’s every reaction. He feels the burn of his own desire growing as he catches the flash of something wild behind Hoseok’s usually calm eyes. His heart pounds louder than ever before as he shifts closer, barely daring to breathe. The cool air between them doesn’t help the heat building in Jungkook’s chest, but he can’t back away now.

He drops his gaze to Hoseok’s lips for a second, his own mouth dry, before looking back up, locking eyes with him. Underneath his lashes, Jungkook whispers, his voice trembling with want, “I want to be on your lap… I want to be yours, Hyung.”

Jungkook doesn’t understand this primal need to belong to Hoseok, this overwhelming urge that drives him to speak those words. It should be terrifying, especially since they’ve known each other for such a short time, and because he’s human while Hoseok is a shifter. Logically, it doesn’t make sense.

But deep within him, in the core of his bones and the very essence of his soul, Jungkook feels it — an undeniable pull, a need to draw closer, to have Hoseok claim him. It’s as though every part of him instinctively knows something his mind hasn’t fully grasped yet. But strangely, he’s not scared. He knows he should be, but the fear never comes. Instead, all he feels is the deep, quiet certainty that this connection is something he was always meant to experience.

Hoseok freezes. His pupils are blown wide, the usual golden hue of his eyes swallowed up by the dark, predatory desire swirling in them. Jungkook’s pulse quickens. He can see Hoseok’s struggle, the tension coiling in his muscles, the almost painful effort to stay still, to not give in. His hands, which usually seem so steady and confident, are trembling at his sides.

Jungkook’s own breath catches, feeling the charge in the air, thick and heady, between them. He can sense the way Hoseok's blood pulses, the deep yearning fighting to break free. Hoseok isn’t even trying to hide it anymore. Jungkook’s pulse races faster as he draws in a slow, shallow breath, keeping his gaze fixed on the beta. His chest rises and falls erratically, and he knows Hoseok can hear the desperate rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Please,” Jungkook whispers, the word like a prayer, a plea. His voice trembles, barely a breath as he leans closer. “I need you to hold me. I need you to make me yours.”

Hoseok’s breath hitches, his chest heaving with the same struggle to control himself. His hands twitch, fingers curling at his sides like he wants to reach out, to pull Jungkook into him, but he is holding himself back with everything he has. His voice is hoarse, a growl simmering just beneath the surface. “Jungkook… you’re testing me.”

But Jungkook can’t stop now. His body aches, longing for Hoseok’s touch, desperate for the connection that is screaming to be made. He takes a step closer, their bodies almost brushing. His breath mingles with Hoseok’s, thick with anticipation. “Please… Hyung.” He lets the words fall between them like a promise, a plea, a command.

The air between them crackles with an undeniable, charged energy. Jungkook watches Hoseok’s expression morph, the strain evident in his furrowed brow, the clench of his jaw. Jungkook can feel it in his bones—Hoseok is fighting with everything in him, but the desperation in his eyes makes it clear, he is barely holding on.

“I want to be your hyung,” Jungkook says softly again, letting the words roll off his tongue like a confession, his voice thick with desire because he's desperate for Hoseok to understand. “Please make me yours.”

And in that moment, Hoseok finally lets go.

In the blink of an eye, Hoseok’s hands shoot out, gripping his waist with a strength that makes his breath catch. He pulls him into his lap, flush against his body, the warmth of Hoseok’s chest pressing against his, and the sensation makes Jungkook’s heart race even faster. Hoseok’s hands are firm around his waist, holding him as if he could barely control the urge to pull him even closer, if that was possible. Their faces are mere inches apart, the space between them charged with a tension so thick it feels suffocating.

Jungkook can see the war raging in Hoseok’s eyes—something fierce, something animalistic that wants to take control, but something holding him back. Hoseok's chest rises and falls with erratic breaths, his eyes flicking between Jungkook's own, then down to his lips, before closing in an attempt to regain his composure. Jungkook can see it all—the restraint, the effort, the struggle—and he knows that this isn’t what he wants.

He doesn’t want Hoseok to fight this, to fight him. Jungkook’s body is burning with the need for him, the need for this connection to be made, for this tension to finally break. He reaches out, his hands desperate as they grab at Hoseok’s coat, pulling him closer, tugging on the fabric with a silent plea. His lips part slightly, the words almost getting lost in his throat as he leans in, breath catching on the edge of a whimper. “Please kiss me, hyung,” he begs, voice thick with need, his usual shyness gone, his hands trembling from the raw intensity of the moment. “Please…”

Hoseok’s breath hitches at the sound of his voice, the desperation clear in every ragged exhale. The moment stretches out, heavy and thick with want, the world around them fading away as they are suspended in the quiet intensity of the moment. Hoseok’s hands tighten around his waist, but this time, there is no hesitation. His grip shifts, one hand rising to cradle Jungkook’s face, holding him in place, while the other settles at the back of his neck.

Jungkook’s breath stutters, his lips barely brushing Hoseok’s as they hover just inches apart. He feels the heat radiating from Hoseok’s body, the fast, uneven breaths that fan across his skin. The tension is unbearable, thick and palpable, each second stretching into eternity. Jungkook’s body aches, every nerve on fire with the anticipation, the desperate need to close the distance between them.

Hoseok’s eyes flicker open, locking with his, and Jungkook sees the raw, untamed desire in them now, the last shreds of control slipping away. Jungkook whimpers softly, the sound barely audible, but it’s enough. It’s enough to break whatever is left of Hoseok’s restraint. With a deep, strained exhale, Hoseok closes the remaining space between them, capturing Jungkook’s lips in a kiss that is fierce, all-consuming, as if the weight of everything they’ve been holding back is finally being released.

The kiss is desperate, hungry, and all-encompassing. Hoseok’s hands move to grip the back of Jungkook’s neck, pulling him deeper, their bodies pressed together in a way that makes everything else seem insignificant. The world melts away as their kiss grows more intense, their breaths mingling in between each frantic touch, each push and pull. The tension finally snaps, leaving nothing but the raw, urgent need to be close, to be as one.

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat as Hoseok’s hand tangles in his hair, pulling him closer with a force that makes his head spin. He gasps into the kiss, the sharp tug at his scalp sending a shiver down his spine. Hoseok’s lips are relentless against his, taking control in a way that makes Jungkook’s heart race even faster, his entire body trembling from the intensity of it all. The kiss is deep, consuming, like Hoseok is trying to memorize every part of him—every taste, every sensation—as if he’s afraid Jungkook will slip away from him.

Jungkook, caught in the storm of it, can only sit there, utterly pliant in Hoseok’s lap, putty in his arms. His body melts against Hoseok’s, instinctively leaning into the strength of the beta who holds him, kisses him with a possessiveness that makes Jungkook’s pulse quicken. Hoseok is claiming him—marking him in every way that matters—and Jungkook feels himself giving into it completely, surrendering to the kiss, to the heat, to the need that floods through him.

The pressure of Hoseok’s hands, the intensity of his lips, all leave Jungkook breathless, his mind dizzy with desire. He can’t think, can’t do anything but hold onto Hoseok, letting him take everything, feeling himself slip deeper into submission with each passing second.

When they finally break apart, both gasping for air, Jungkook’s chest rises and falls erratically, his lips swollen from the fierce kiss, his eyes wide with a mix of hunger and something softer, something more vulnerable. Hoseok’s forehead presses against his, their breaths mingling in the chilled air. The silence between them is heavy—charged, thick with the intensity of the moment. Hoseok’s hands, still holding him close, tremble slightly as if he, too, is trying to regain control.

Hoseok’s voice is rough when he speaks, low and filled with undeniable hunger. “Do you really mean it, pup?” he asks, his eyes dark, searching, like he’s looking for something—an answer, a promise. “When you say you want to be mine... Do you want me to claim you? To give you a claiming bite?”

The words hang in the air, suffocating in their weight. Jungkook can feel the heat radiating from Hoseok’s body, his heart pounding in his chest. The offer is so intimate, so raw, that it makes every part of him ache with need. His breath hitches, the tension between them thickening with every second. He can feel the possessiveness in Hoseok’s voice, the raw, primal desire to make him his in every sense.

Jungkook’s hands tremble as they slide up Hoseok’s chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, needing to feel the intensity of the moment, to feel the depth of Hoseok’s desire. His own voice is barely a whisper, but the desperation in it is clear. “Yes,” he breathes out, the word laced with raw need. “I want you to claim me. I want to be yours.”

The air seems to thicken around them, the tension between them so heavy it is almost tangible. Hoseok’s eyes darken, a low growl rumbling in his chest, and in that moment, Jungkook knows—knows that there will be no turning back. This is it. The moment they cross into something irreversible, something that will bind them in ways neither of them can fully comprehend.

The weight of Hoseok’s question lingers in the air like a promise—heavy, unspoken, and filled with desire. Jungkook doesn’t need Hoseok to explain what a claiming bite is. He understands. The implication is clear, Hoseok will bite him, will mark him in a way that no one can ignore. It will be a claim, a bond that is impossible to break. And the thought sends a thrill through Jungkook, making his body burn with anticipation.

He knows he should be afraid, but the overwhelming desire that consumes him leaves no room for fear. The thought of being Hoseok’s is too powerful, too intoxicating—he can’t fight it, and he doesn’t want to.

He can feel the tension building, thick and suffocating, as Hoseok’s hands move with an urgency that mirrors his own. With a fluid motion, Hoseok pulls Jungkook’s coat off, followed by his sweater. The cold air hits him instantly, but it doesn’t matter. He can’t feel it—not with the heat that is building between them, the fire of need that is coursing through his veins. Every inch of his skin is alive with the touch of Hoseok, with the anticipation of what is about to happen.

Jungkook’s breath hitches as Hoseok leans in, his lips brushing lightly against the delicate skin of his neck. A soft kiss—gentle, almost reverent—but it only heightens the ache inside him. Before Jungkook can even process what’s happening, Hoseok’s lips move lower, his breath warm against his skin as he begins to scent him.

Jungkook knows exactly what Hoseok is doing. He feels it—Hoseok’s scent, rich and heady, starting to cling to his skin, mingling with his own in a possessive, intoxicating way. It’s a mark, subtle but undeniable, and it makes Jungkook’s heart race faster. He feels Hoseok’s presence in every breath, every touch, as if the beta is already leaving an imprint on him, claiming him in a way that’s both primal and intimate.

Jungkook’s hands tremble, but he can’t stop them. He fumbles with the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning the first few in a desperate attempt to give Hoseok better access to his neck, to expose more of himself to the beta. The cold air bites at his exposed skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of Hoseok’s touch, the way the tension between them makes everything else seem distant, irrelevant.

His breath is shallow, the anticipation so thick it almost suffocates him. He can feel Hoseok’s scent filling his senses, wrapping around him like a promise, a claim. And he wants it. He wants Hoseok to take him, to mark him, to make it clear to the world—and to himself—that he is Hoseok’s.

“Please,” Jungkook whispers, his voice a soft, desperate sound that trembles with want. “Please, hyung… please make me yours.”

Hoseok’s eyes darken at the sound of Jungkook’s pleading, a low growl vibrating in his chest. It’s the kind of sound that makes Jungkook’s heart race even faster, the possessiveness in Hoseok’s tone igniting something deep within him. “God, you’re so pretty, Kook,” Hoseok rasps, voice thick with hunger. “So good… being all sweet, all pliant for me. You’re perfect.” His words are almost a growl as he holds Jungkook closer, eyes never leaving his. "I'll make you mine," he adds, his voice dripping with need.

Jungkook’s breath quickens at Hoseok’s words, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest. The sheer weight of Hoseok’s dominance, the way the beta’s presence seems to swallow him whole, is almost too much to bear. And yet, the ache, the desire… it’s everything he’s been craving. The tension between them builds to an almost unbearable degree, the air thick with the unspoken promises of what’s to come.

Then, with a primal snarl, Hoseok leans in, his lips brushing against Jungkook’s neck once more. But this time, there’s no gentleness, no hesitation. Hoseok’s teeth sink into his skin—sharp, urgent—but it isn’t painful. No. It’s electric, overwhelming, and, somehow, exactly what Jungkook needs. The sensation is a rush, a flood of heat and electricity that shoots through his body, making him gasp and shudder. The moment Hoseok’s touch his skin, Jungkook’s world tilts, his vision blurring as the intensity of it all threatens to knock him off his feet.

It isn’t just the physical sensation that makes him lose control—it’s the weight of it all, the way Hoseok is marking him, claiming him so thoroughly. The thought that he couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to sends a rush of heat to his cheeks, making him feel even more vulnerable, even more exposed. Hoseok’s arms are like iron around him, unyielding, keeping him in place as if he belongs there, as if he’s exactly where he’s meant to be.

Jungkook can’t hold himself upright, his knees weakening under the intensity of the moment. The bite, the way Hoseok is taking him, it’s too much to process all at once. The wave of sensations is dizzying, overwhelming, and all-encompassing. His body feels like it’s on fire, each breath coming out in shallow gasps, and still, Hoseok doesn’t let up.

“You’re mine now,” Hoseok growls against his neck, his voice low and possessive. Jungkook’s heart thunders in his chest, each beat vibrating in time with Hoseok’s words. The implication of the claim, of what’s happening, wraps around him like a vice, making him feel both shy and excited in equal measure. He can’t escape even if he wants to. He doesn’t want to. And the very thought of it, of Hoseok holding him so firmly, making him his in such an intimate way, makes the heat inside him intensify.

Jungkook whimpers softly, unable to form words, only able to react to the overwhelming pull of Hoseok’s presence, his power, his mark. He feels like he’s drowning in it—and, somehow, that’s exactly where he wants to be.

As Hoseok’s teeth finally leave his neck, leaving a lingering warmth behind, Jungkook can’t help the soft, breathless whine that escapes his lips. The bite has left a mark, but Hoseok isn’t done with him yet. Slowly, as if savoring every moment, the beta begins kissing his neck, his lips brushing over the tender spot where he just claimed him. Each kiss is a sweet contrast to the sharpness of the bite—soft, tender, soothing, as if Hoseok is ensuring that Jungkook knows just how much he’s cherished, how much he’s wanted.

Hoseok’s lips move, trailing up to his jaw, then to his cheek, lingering there for a moment before he finally captures Jungkook’s lips in another kiss. This time, it’s slow, deliberate, and sweet. The kiss is different—gentler, as though Hoseok is savoring the moment, allowing it to linger without the urgency that drove him before. It’s like the storm has passed, and now, with the claim made, Hoseok doesn’t need to rush anymore. He has what he wants—Jungkook is his.

Jungkook feels dizzy, his entire body aflame from the intensity of it all. His eyes flutter half-closed, and he knows his face must be flushed, his lips swollen from the passion they just shared. His breath comes out in soft, shaky gasps as he tries to gather himself, but he can’t find the words. He can’t form anything coherent. He can only look at Hoseok, gaze heavy with the emotions swirling in his chest—desire, warmth, and something deeper, something he can’t quite name.

Hoseok’s eyes soften as he looks at him, his lips curling into a low, incredulous curse. “I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he mutters, his voice thick with awe. “You let me mark you. Let me make you mine.” There’s a rough edge to his words, but it’s laced with affection, pride. His hand gently cups Jungkook’s face before sliding down to thread through his hair, softly caressing him. “You’ve been so good for me, pup. So perfect… I’m so proud of you. You’re mine now, and I’ll never let you go. I'll take care of you, always.”

Jungkook’s heart swells at the words, and despite the dizzying rush of emotions, he finds the strength to smile, his lips trembling as he looks up at the beta. The warmth of Hoseok’s touch, the tenderness that contrasts with the intensity of what they just shared, makes him feel cherished, loved. He knows this moment—this claim—will change him, change them both. And despite the weight of it all, he can’t deny how right it feels.

“Thank you, Hyung,” Jungkook whispers, his voice soft, a quiet acknowledgment of everything that just happened, of everything Hoseok gave him.

At the sound of his words, Hoseok coos softly, a low, satisfied sound, his eyes lighting up with something softer than the possessiveness that drove him moments ago. He leans in again, pressing another soft kiss to Jungkook’s lips, gentle and filled with affection.

When he finally pulls back, Hoseok’s hands move to Jungkook’s clothes, carefully pulling them back on, making sure he’s warm and comfortable. The tenderness in his touch, the way he dresses him like he’s the most precious thing in the world, sends a wave of warmth through Jungkook. It’s an intimate care, a love that’s soft but strong, and it makes his heart race all over again.

Jungkook sits quietly on Hoseok's lap, still dazed from everything, from the claim, from the tenderness, and from the overwhelming need that’s been satisfied. And in that moment, he knows—he’s truly Hoseok’s. And Hoseok is his.

Jungkook can feel the dazed, dreamy look in his own eyes, his head still spinning from everything that happened. His thoughts are a jumble, and his body feels like it’s still thrumming with the energy of Hoseok’s touch. He doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to end this night—the moment when everything feels so perfect. But when he meets Hoseok’s gaze, he sees something in the beta’s eyes that makes him stop. The concern is clear. It's like Hoseok’s instincts are telling him to take him home, and Jungkook knows that means it’s time to listen.

“I don’t want to end the date yet,” Jungkook says, his voice soft, a whisper of a plea in it. He doesn’t want to go. Doesn’t want to leave the warmth of Hoseok’s presence. But he can feel Hoseok’s eyes on him, the concern in his gaze, and it makes his heart beat faster.

Hoseok’s face softens, and he cups Jungkook’s face gently, his thumb brushing over Jungkook’s flushed skin. “Kook-ah, I know you don’t want to, but my instincts are telling me you need to get home. You’re in a vulnerable headspace right now, and I can’t bear the thought of leaving you out here for another minute. Please, let me take care of you.”

Jungkook’s heart twists at Hoseok’s words, and though he wants to protest, he knows it wouldn’t be fair to do so. He isn’t entirely sure what he wants anymore, only that he feels safe, warm, and cared for in Hoseok’s presence. Slowly, he nods, his voice barely a murmur. “Okay hyung.”

Hoseok’s expression softens even more, but the concern never leaves his eyes. He kneels in front of Jungkook and begins untying his skates, his hands moving with such careful, tender precision that it makes Jungkook’s chest ache. The way Hoseok’s fingers brush against his skin, the way he’s so gentle—it feels like too much, but also exactly what he needs. Jungkook doesn’t fight it, he lets Hoseok take care of him, melting into the sensation of being doted on.

Once his skates are off, Hoseok doesn’t waste a moment. He pulls Jungkook into his arms, lifting him effortlessly, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. Jungkook instinctively wraps his arms around Hoseok’s neck, pressing his head to his shoulder. It’s strange how right it feels to be held like this, how safe he feels in Hoseok’s arms. There’s no place he’d rather be.

Hoseok glides smoothly across the ice, effortlessly guiding them toward the bank. With a skilled shift of his body, he maneuvers them both onto solid ground, the motion fluid and graceful.

Hoseok gently lowers him to the ground, his movements careful and tender. Jungkook watches as the beta pauses just long enough to put his shoes back on, his movements calm and purposeful. Jungkook glances down at his own feet, feeling the cold creep back into his skin, but he doesn’t mind. Hoseok is here, and that’s all that matters.

Then, with a swift motion, the beta pulls him back into his arms, holding him tightly once more. He shifts slightly in Hoseok’s arms, he feels like he should protest, like he should at least put on his shoes and walk by himself, but his voice falters. “I should put my shoes on, Hhyung. I don’t want you to—”

Hoseok’s voice is calm, but firm as he interrupts, his grip tightening on Jungkook. “It’s not necessary. I’ll carry you all the way home. I’ll come back for our things later. Right now, all I care about is getting you back safe and warm.”

Jungkook opens his mouth, ready to say something, but he can’t bring himself to. The words don’t feel right. The care in Hoseok’s voice, the tenderness in the way he holds him, makes it impossible to argue. Instead, Jungkook lets himself relax into Hoseok’s embrace, feeling a warmth spread through him that has nothing to do with the cold air outside.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Jungkook whispers, his voice muffled against Hoseok’s neck. It’s more than just gratitude. It’s a quiet acknowledgment of everything Hoseok’s given him tonight—his care, his love, his strength. It’s everything Jungkook needs, and now, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to be held by Hoseok like this.

As Hoseok carries him, the world around them feels smaller, quieter. Nothing else matters but the feeling of being close to him, of being in his arms.

Jungkook lets himself melt into Hoseok’s warmth, feeling the beat of his heart and the safety of his embrace.

He doesn’t need anything else. In Hoseok’s arms, everything is exactly as it should be.

Notes:

Heyyy!! 💖

I wish someone would take me on a cute ice-skating date too!! But honestly, I can't skate to save my life, and I find it super scary haha 😅 So that date? Definitely not happening anytime soon!

Also, not Hoseok going to prepare everything for their date while Jungkook is asleep... Like, really?? I can’t see any guy in real life doing that! 😍

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I also wanted to explain a couple of things because I haven't really done any world-building yet. Things feel obvious in my head, but I know not everyone gets it (first fic problems, right? 🙃). So please bear with me!

A claiming bite is NOT the same as a mating bite! 😬 It’s not as deep or intimate.
A claiming bite doesn’t pierce the skin—it’s just a temporary mark, a temporary claim.

When Jungkook and Hoseok talk about being each other’s and it being permanent, they’re talking about their feelings, the emotional bond, and what the claiming means for them. Because, technically, Jungkook could still get a mating bite from someone else if he wanted to (he won’t, obviously 😂), but the bond between them, their feelings, that’s what’s permanent.
They’re just so into each other now that they wouldn’t even dream of being apart. 🥰

I hope that clears things up a bit. They will talk about it more later, but I thought I’d explain it now!

A mating bite, on the other hand, would pierce the skin and be permanent. And, well, we all know where that happens… during smut 😏 If you’ve read as many omegaverse fics as I have, you know exactly what I mean! 😉
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Also, I know some of you might feel that things are moving too fast or not unfolding the way you’d prefer, but please avoid leaving comments about how you wish I had written things differently—it takes away some of the joy of sharing this story with you and, honestly, makes me a little sad haha!

I’m not saying you can’t have an opinion—of course you can! And I’m definitely not expecting only positive comments. Please don’t take it the wrong way!

I understand that these comments come from a good place, but please remember that this is just a fanfiction I’m writing for fun in my spare time—not a published novel.
I’m not looking for constructive criticism because I’m not an author, nor do I plan on becoming one.

This story is the result of a late-night scenario//dream I had, so I’m writing it exactly as I remember it. Things will make sense eventually—just trust the process haha!

Love you and see y’all soon!! 💕

Chapter 33: A Whisper of Forever

Summary:

Just Hoseok being his usual soft and loving self

Jungkook stirs, caught between the comforting haze of sleep and the lingering warmth of something deeper, something new. A gentle touch ghosts over his scalp, fingers threading delicately through his hair, and for a moment, he lets himself sink into the sensation, lulled by its tenderness. His mind is sluggish, unwilling to let go of the drowsy peace that wraps around him like a cocoon. But then, like a dam breaking, the memories surge in.

The cold air of the icy lake. The tension coiling tight in his stomach. Hoseok’s hands on him, warm, steady, grounding. The way his voice had dipped, raw with something possessive, promising. The heat of lips against his skin, the graze of his teeth. The overwhelming rush of being wanted, of being claimed.

Jungkook’s eyes snap open, his breath catching as realization crashes into him like a tidal wave. He shifts, heart pounding, but a soft hush stops him mid-motion. The fingers in his hair don’t falter, still moving in slow, soothing strokes. His gaze lifts, and there is Hoseok, watching him with an expression so fond it makes Jungkook’s stomach flip.

Heat blooms across his face as awareness sinks in. He’s lying on the couch, his head resting on Hoseok’s lap as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. The room is dimly lit, the house quiet, and everything feels oddly intimate in a way that makes Jungkook’s throat tighten.

Embarrassment curls in his chest, sharp and insistent. What has he done? He has never acted like this before, has never been so bold, so openly desperate. He had begged. He had exposed himself in a way that should have terrified him. But in the moment, it hadn’t. It had felt like his world would shatter if Hoseok didn’t take him, didn’t make him his.

His fingers clench into the fabric of his shirt, suddenly uncertain. Had he done too much? Had he crossed a line?

But then Hoseok’s hand moves, brushing against his cheek with a touch so gentle it sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine.

“You’re awake,” Hoseok murmurs, voice soft, affectionate.

Jungkook swallows hard. “Hyung—”

A chuckle rumbles from Hoseok’s chest, and he leans down just enough that their foreheads almost touch. “You don’t have to look so panicked, bunny.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches. Hoseok’s scent is everywhere—on his clothes, his skin, sinking deep into his bones. Hoseok has marked him, and there’s no undoing that. A thrill runs through him, something warm and fluttering in his chest.

“I—” He doesn’t know what he wants to say. That he has never felt this way before? That he isn’t sure how to handle it? That he isn’t used to being wanted so openly, so completely?

Hoseok smiles, as if he understands anyway. His hand moves back to Jungkook’s hair, fingers resuming their slow, comforting strokes. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Just breathe.”

And Jungkook does. Because despite the overwhelming feelings twisting inside him, despite the embarrassment, despite the uncertainty of what comes next—he is here, in Hoseok’s arms and in that moment it feels like the safest place in the world.

Jungkook stares up at Hoseok, eyes wide, searching his expression for any hint of regret, of hesitation, but there’s none. Hoseok doesn’t look embarrassed. He doesn’t look uncertain. If anything, he looks entirely at peace, like this is exactly where he wants to be—like Jungkook in his lap, his fingers carding gently through his hair, is the most natural thing in the world. There’s something so steady about the way he gazes down at him, warmth and fondness cradling his features, making Jungkook’s heart twist painfully in his chest.

For a moment, neither of them speak. Hoseok continues to brush through his hair, slow and soothing, as if sensing the rapid beat of Jungkook’s heart, the way his body feels light and restless all at once. Then, finally, the beta tilts his head, voice gentle as he asks, “Do you regret it? Asking me to claim you?”

The question sends a jolt through Jungkook’s spine. Regret it? The idea is absurd. The claim mark on his neck is still tender, a steady warmth that pulses faintly against his skin, and just the thought of it makes something deep inside him settle. He shakes his head immediately, hands curling into Hoseok’s sleeve as if to ground himself. “No,” he says, voice firm despite the nervous flutter in his chest. “I don’t. It feels right. I don’t want to take it back.”

Hoseok’s lips part slightly, eyes softening as if Jungkook has just given him the most precious thing in the world. Slowly, his lips curl into a smile—bright, warm, and so breathtakingly beautiful that Jungkook almost forgets how to breathe.

“Then there’s no reason to be so shy,” Hoseok murmurs, his fingers trailing down the side of Jungkook’s face, brushing lightly over his jaw before tracing the shell of his ear. His touch is featherlight, delicate, like he’s afraid Jungkook might disappear if he presses too hard. “Let me take care of you.”

Jungkook swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He wants that. He wants that more than anything. To be taken care of, to be wanted, to be cherished in a way he’s never known before. But there’s something else, something pressing against the edges of his mind, something he feels like he needs to admit. He shifts slightly, fingers still gripping Hoseok’s sleeve, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Hyung… I—I need to tell you something.”

Hoseok tilts his head, waiting patiently, his thumb still tracing slow circles against Jungkook’s skin.

Jungkook inhales sharply, then forces the words out before he can lose his nerve. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

Hoseok stills. His fingers pause where they’re tangled in Jungkook’s hair, and for a brief moment, Jungkook worries that maybe—maybe that’s a bad thing, maybe he’s too inexperienced, maybe Hoseok will—

But then, to his utter shock, Hoseok lets out a soft chuckle. The warmth of it spills over Jungkook like sunlight, gentle and affectionate, and any lingering nerves he has begin to melt away.

Jungkook frowns, confused. “Why are you laughing?”

Hoseok shakes his head, his expression nothing but fondness. “I’m just happy,” he says, and it’s so sincere, so utterly heartfelt, that Jungkook feels his breath catch. “Happy that I was your first kiss. That it happened this way. That I got to kiss you before anyone else could take you away from me.”

Jungkook’s heart stumbles. He isn’t sure if it’s the words, the way Hoseok’s voice is so gentle, or the way his fingers tuck a stray strand of hair behind Jungkook’s ear like he’s something precious. But whatever it is, it makes something bloom in his chest—something soft, something terrifying, something beautiful.

And in that moment, he realizes that he’s never felt safer than he does right now, cradled in Hoseok’s lap, completely wrapped in his warmth.

Jungkook watches as Hoseok shifts in front of him, his usually bright and easygoing demeanor carrying a weight that feels unusual. The beta exhales softly, as if gathering his thoughts, before finally meeting Jungkook’s eyes with a gentleness that makes something twist in Jungkook’s chest.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Hoseok begins, his voice warm but careful, each word laced with sincerity. “I want to apologize for taking things too fast.”

Jungkook blinks, momentarily caught off guard. He opens his mouth to protest, to tell Hoseok that he doesn’t have to apologize for anything, but the beta holds up a hand, a small smile tugging at his lips as if he already knows what Jungkook is about to say.

“Don’t get me wrong—I don’t regret anything,” Hoseok reassures him quickly, shaking his head. “Not for a second. I don’t regret claiming you, Jungkook-ah. That’s not what this is about.” His voice is firm, steady, leaving no room for doubt. “But I do recognize that everything happened so fast. Faster than I thought it would. Faster than I expected.”

Jungkook lowers his gaze, his fingers idly twisting the edge of his sleeve. He knows that much is true—things have been moving quickly, and sometimes it feels like he’s just barely keeping up. But hearing Hoseok say it aloud, seeing the way the beta’s expression softens, makes something inside Jungkook ache.

“I thought we’d have more time,” Hoseok continues, his voice dipping into something more contemplative. “That we’d slowly get to know each other, go on more dates, spend more time together before we got here.” A wistful smile flickers across his face, and Jungkook can see the fondness in his eyes, the warmth of something imagined but not forgotten. “I had it all planned out, you know? I knew exactly where I wanted to take you. I’d think about it all the time—how I’d court you properly, show you all my favorite places, watch you experience them with me.”

Jungkook swallows, something fluttering in his chest at the thought. The idea of Hoseok thinking about him like that, picturing them together in a future that he had built so carefully in his mind—it makes Jungkook’s stomach twist in a way he can’t quite name.

“But we’re shifters,” Hoseok murmurs, his voice taking on a thoughtful edge. “And for us, it’s not uncommon for things to happen fast. We rely on our instincts a lot. We’re half-wild creatures, Jungkook-ah. It’s just in our nature.” He lets out a small chuckle, though there’s something almost apologetic in it. “Still, I know you’re human. That you’ve lived a different life than we have. A hard life.” His gaze softens, his brows drawing together slightly. “I was scared.”

Jungkook’s breath catches. “Scared?”

Hoseok nods slowly, his eyes never leaving Jungkook’s. “That we'd scare you away,” he admits, voice quiet but steady. “That our feelings would be too much for you. That we'd push too hard, too fast, and you wouldn’t be ready.” He exhales deeply, rubbing the back of his neck.

“But from the moment you arrived, I felt drawn to you. It wasn’t something I could control. I wanted to be close to you, to take care of you, to make sure you were safe.” His jaw tenses slightly before he relaxes again. “And I didn’t want that to overwhelm you because I we didn’t know you and you didn’t know us. We still don’t know much about each other.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say at first. His heart is pounding in his chest, loud and insistent. It’s strange, hearing Hoseok put it into words—the feelings, the pull, the way everything seemed to happen in a whirlwind. It’s something Jungkook has felt, too, but hasn’t fully understood. And maybe he still doesn’t.

But what he does know is that Hoseok is looking at him like he matters. Like he has mattered all along.

Hoseok exhales softly, his eyes searching Jungkook’s face for a long moment before he continues. His voice is steady, but there’s a quiet vulnerability in the way he speaks, as if he’s laying himself bare.

“I’m not the one who knows the most about humans,” he admits, a small, almost self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “But I know enough to understand that even though we’re similar in so many ways, we’re still different. Wolves and humans… we see the world differently. We feel things differently.”

Jungkook listens intently, his hands unconsciously gripping at the fabric of his own sleeves. The way Hoseok is looking at him—warm but hesitant, as if he’s carefully choosing each word—makes his chest feel tight.

“That’s why I was scared,” Hoseok confesses, his voice softer now. “Because from the moment I met you, my soul was telling me that you were meant to be mine. It wasn’t just an idea, or a fleeting feeling—it was something deep, something I could feel in my bones. I was certain—just as sure as the sky is blue. Like every part of me knew it before I could even put it into words.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “But I also knew that love wasn’t what you needed when you first arrived. That no matter how much I wanted to claim you, to keep you close, to tell you what I felt—you weren’t ready for that.”

Jungkook feels his breath hitch. He doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t even know what he’s feeling—only that something inside him is unraveling at Hoseok’s words, like a knot he hadn’t even realized was there.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook-ah,” Hoseok continues, his gaze unwavering. “I realize now that we might be keeping things from you without even meaning to.” His fingers flex at his sides, as if restraining the urge to reach for Jungkook. “So much of this—our instincts, our bonds, the way we just know—it’s second nature to us. It’s so deeply ingrained in who we are that we don’t even think to explain it. But you… you come from a very different world.”

Jungkook swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He doesn’t know what to say.

Hoseok smiles, but it’s tinged with something softer, something almost regretful. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re lost in this, like you’re being dragged along without knowing what’s happening. If there’s anything you don’t understand, anything you want to understand… ask us, okay? I promise, we’ll tell you everything.”

Jungkook nods slowly, his heart thudding in his chest. He doesn’t know if he even has the words yet, if he can even begin to explain the tangled mess of emotions inside him—but the way Hoseok is looking at him, open and patient and his, makes it feel just a little easier to try.

Jungkook takes a slow breath, steadying himself before he speaks. The weight of his own thoughts presses against his chest, heavy and uncertain, but he knows he needs to say this. Needs to let Hoseok in, to tell him what’s been twisting inside of him since his conversation with Jimin and Taehyung.

“When I was talking with Jiminie-hyung and Taehyungie-hyung earlier,” he begins, his voice quieter than before, “I realized something. Back in my old village… I never really got this kind of attention.” His fingers tighten around the fabric of his sleeves, gripping the soft material like an anchor. “It’s… similar, in some ways, but also completely different.”

Hoseok doesn’t interrupt. He waits, his attention fully on Jungkook, his presence warm and steady. That patience gives Jungkook the courage to continue.

“People used to call me pretty,” he says, and there’s a slight tremor in his voice. “But it wasn’t a compliment. It was a slur. They said it because I looked too delicate, too weak.” The words taste bitter even now, the memories curling around him like shadows he can’t quite shake.

Hoseok’s expression darkens slightly, his brows knitting together, but he stays silent, letting Jungkook speak at his own pace.

“Sungil—” Jungkook’s voice falters, but he forces himself to say the name, forces himself to bring it into the open instead of letting it fester in his mind. “He used to call me his all the time.” He swallows hard, the memory of it making his stomach twist. “He would stake his claim, always, like he owned me. Like I was just… something to be taken, to be controlled.”

Hoseok’s entire body goes tense. His jaw tightens, his shoulders stiffening, and when Jungkook meets his eyes, he sees something dark and unreadable there. A flicker of restrained anger, of something protective and fierce beneath the surface.

Jungkook exhales shakily, his hands clenching into fists in his lap. “It made me uncomfortable. It scared me. Because when Sungil said it, he meant ownership. Not the kind where you belong with someone, but the kind where you’re property. Something to be possessed.”

Hoseok’s breath comes out slow and measured, like he’s trying to keep himself calm. His gaze stays locked onto Jungkook, sharp and unwavering. “I'm sorry, that's wrong” he says, his voice quieter now, but filled with something heavy. Regret, maybe.

Anger, definitely. “Jungkook-ah, I am so, so sorry.” He leans forward slightly, his posture open but restrained, as if he wants to reach for Jungkook but is waiting for permission. “If me or anyone else ever saying that made you feel scared, if it ever reminded you of him—” His voice catches for a brief second before he pushes through it. “I never, ever want that.”

Jungkook’s throat tightens, emotion rising in his chest.

Hoseok’s expression softens, his eyes still burning with quiet intensity. “You can always tell us, okay? Always. If we ever say anything that makes you uncomfortable, if anything feels too much, too fast—you tell us, and I swear, we’ll stop.”

Jungkook nods slowly, the tension in his chest loosening just a little. Hoseok’s voice is steady, full of conviction, and it makes something deep inside Jungkook settle.

Because this—this is different.

Hoseok isn’t like Sungil. None of them are.

Jungkook watches Hoseok carefully, his heart thudding in his chest, unsure of what to expect. He had never talked about this before—never admitted these things out loud. His fingers curl slightly in the blankets draped over his lap, grounding himself as he waits for Hoseok’s response.

He exhales softly, gaze warm yet serious, as if he’s weighing every word before speaking. “Jungkook,” he says gently, “when we say you’re ours, it has never been about ownership.” His voice is steady, careful, but firm. “For wolves, it’s… natural to say that. It’s not about claiming someone like property—it’s about care. Love. It means you’re important to us, that we want to protect you, keep you safe. That our very souls instinctively recognize you as one of our own.”

Jungkook swallows, throat suddenly tight. The words settle over him, heavy yet oddly comforting, so different from what he’s always known.

“And we do,” Hoseok continues, his expression unwavering. “We care about you, deeply. Maybe it feels sudden, too fast, but for us, it doesn’t. Shifters—” He pauses, as if trying to find the right way to explain. “We feel things strongly. When our instincts tell us something, we listen. And ever since you came here… I felt it. We all did.”

Jungkook presses his lips together, overwhelmed. He’s not sure what he expected, but hearing it put into words like this makes his chest ache in a way he doesn’t quite understand.

Hoseok leans in slightly, slow and deliberate, as if making sure Jungkook has room to move away if he wants. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, we can stop. If you don’t want us to call you that, if it reminds you of things you’d rather forget, you tell us, and we’ll stop right now.” His voice is steady, filled with quiet sincerity. There’s no hesitation, no reluctance—just a simple promise.

Jungkook’s breath catches. They would just… stop? No protest, no frustration, just immediate respect for his feelings? The thought leaves him reeling.

He shakes his head quickly. “I—It’s not that,” he murmurs, trying to sort through the mess of emotions inside him. “It’s just… different.”

Hoseok watches him for a long moment, then nods in understanding, not pressing him for more. Instead, his gaze softens, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. “And as for calling you pretty…” He lets out a quiet chuckle. “We say that because it’s true, Jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook’s face burns instantly. “Hyung—”

Hoseok just shakes his head, laughing. “I mean it. Shifters… we don’t dance around our feelings. We say what we think, what we see. If we think something is beautiful, we say it.” His voice drops slightly, turning softer. “We never meant it as an insult. We would never say anything to hurt you. Not ever.”

Jungkook grips the blankets tighter, staring down at his lap. His chest feels tight in a way that’s hard to explain. It’s just… difficult to process. To unlearn the way he’s always been treated, to accept that this is different. That they are different.

But when he looks up, Hoseok is still watching him with the same unwavering sincerity, his presence warm and steady. There’s no expectation in his gaze, no pressure—just quiet reassurance.

Jungkook exhales slowly, some of the tension melting from his shoulders. He still doesn’t know how to accept it, not fully. But maybe… maybe he’s starting to believe it.

“…Thank you,” he whispers.

Hoseok’s smile widens just a little. “Always, pup.”

Jungkook hesitates for a moment, fingers twisting in the blanket as he tries to gather his thoughts. He isn’t sure how to put it into words—this strange, conflicting mess of emotions that has been tangled inside him since the moment he arrived here. But Hoseok is watching him with so much patience, so much quiet understanding, that he finds himself speaking before he can second-guess it.

“I just… I’ve been confused,” Jungkook admits, voice barely above a whisper. His throat feels tight, like the words are pressing against something fragile inside him, but he pushes forward anyway. “Ever since I got here, everything I’ve ever known has changed.”

Hoseok doesn’t interrupt, just listens, his attention unwavering. It gives Jungkook the courage to keep going.

“I left my whole life behind,” he continues, voice a little steadier now. “When Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung found me… I had stopped fighting. I was so tired. I just let it happen.” His fingers clench briefly, remembering the way exhaustion had drowned him back then, how it had swallowed him whole. “Being brought here, into your pack, it was—it still is—overwhelming.”

He pauses, trying to breathe through the weight of it all. His heart is pounding, but he keeps talking, keeps unraveling the thoughts that have been locked away for so long. “And the confusing part is… even though you all say the same words Sungil did, even though you say I’m yours, it never felt the same. Not even in the beginning.”

His voice shakes a little on that last part, and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t understand why this is so hard to say, why it makes his chest ache so much. Hoseok leans forward slightly, still silent, but his expression shifts—gentle, concerned. He’s waiting, giving Jungkook space to say everything he needs to.

Jungkook swallows and presses on. “It’s not just that, either. It’s like… ever since I got here, I’ve been feeling things I’ve never felt before. These—these urges, these instincts, like something inside me is waking up.” He shakes his head, frustrated with himself, with his own lack of understanding. “I don’t get it. I don’t know why I feel this way. But from the start, I just—” He exhales shakily, gaze flickering to Hoseok’s. “I just felt like you were all safe.”

The words linger in the air between them, weighty and raw.

Jungkook grips his hands together, suddenly feeling vulnerable in a way he doesn’t know how to handle. “And that scared me,” he admits quietly. “Because I’ve never been close to anyone before. It was too dangerous in my village. I couldn’t afford to trust anyone.”

His chest tightens as the memories creep in—the loneliness, the fear, the way he had always been on edge, always waiting for something bad to happen. He had never had the luxury of trusting, of belonging.

But here… it had been different from the beginning. And that terrifies him.

Hoseok is quiet for a long moment, just watching him with that steady, unwavering gaze. And then, with a gentleness that makes Jungkook’s breath catch, he murmurs, “Oh, pup…”

Jungkook blinks rapidly, something stinging behind his eyes, but he doesn’t look away. He can’t. Because Hoseok isn’t pushing him for more, isn’t telling him he’s wrong to feel this way. He’s just there, holding the weight of Jungkook’s words like they matter.

And maybe… maybe that’s what scares Jungkook the most of all.

Hoseok exhales softly, his expression unreadable for a moment before he speaks. “Pup,” he says gently, voice steady but laced with something Jungkook can’t quite name. “Are you uncomfortable with how fast everything is going?”

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard by the question.

Hoseok holds his gaze, patient as ever. “If you are,” he continues, “we can stop. Right now. You just have to say the word.” There’s no hesitation in his voice, no reluctance. Only certainty, only the quiet promise of choice. “No one would be mad at you. No one would blame you.”

Jungkook’s fingers twitch in his lap, his mind spinning with the weight of Hoseok’s words.

“If you need space,” Hoseok says, softer this time, “we can give you that. Whatever you need, pup. I just…” He trails off, shaking his head slightly, like he’s trying to find the right words. “I understand. And I’m so, so glad that you’re telling me this. That you trust me enough to share this part of yourself with me.”

There’s something about the way he says it—so sincere, so careful—that makes Jungkook’s throat tighten.

Hoseok sighs then, running a hand through his hair before looking back at him. “I know I already said this, but… I’m sorry, Jungkook-ah. For the claiming. Because it happened too fast.” His eyes are filled with regret, but not in the way that makes Jungkook doubt him. It’s not remorse—not like he wishes it hadn’t happened. It’s more complicated than that.

“I never meant for things to develop this fast,” Hoseok admits, his voice lower now, almost hesitant. “It wasn’t my plan. I thought… I thought we’d take our time. Go on more dates. Get to know each other even more before—” He stops himself, jaw clenching for a second before he exhales.

Jungkook doesn’t move, heart pounding.

Hoseok’s gaze drops to his hands, and his next words are barely above a whisper. “But then, during our date… I was so overwhelmed, Jungkook-ah.” He shakes his head again, as if frustrated with himself. “You overwhelmed me. I don’t even know if you realize how much.”

Jungkook swallows, the weight in his chest growing heavier.

“My instincts,” Hoseok says, voice rougher now, “they were screaming at me to claim you. From the moment you agreed to go, I was fighting it.” He lets out a soft, humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Because I thought it was too soon for you. I knew it was too soon. I didn’t want to scare you. Didn’t want to push you too fast.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches slightly.

Hoseok looks up then, eyes locking onto his, and there’s something so raw, so open in his gaze that Jungkook feels like he’s unraveling under it. “But when you begged me…” Hoseok’s voice is barely more than a breath. “When you begged me to claim you, I—” He breaks off, looking pained. “I lost control, Jungkook-ah. My wolf took over. The need to claim you was too strong, and I—” He shakes his head again, jaw tightening before he forces himself to relax.

“I don’t regret it,” Hoseok murmurs. “I never could. But I do regret that I didn’t hold back for your sake. That I let myself give in when maybe you weren’t ready. That I didn't explain.”

Jungkook stares at him, mind spinning, chest tight.

Because wasn’t he ready?

Hadn’t he wanted it just as much?

Hadn’t it felt right in a way nothing ever had before?

His hands tremble slightly in his lap, and he doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to answer the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

Hoseok watches him for a moment longer before his expression softens again. “Whatever you need, pup,” he says, voice nothing but warmth now. “I mean it.”

Jungkook feels something inside him crack, something fragile but hopeful, and he isn’t sure if he wants to run or lean into it.

Jungkook swallows, his fingers tightening slightly in his lap as he forces himself to gather his thoughts, to try and put words to the mess of emotions swirling inside him. It’s not easy—nothing ever is when it comes to the way his mind works, the way his heart fights against the logic that should have ruled his life. But Hoseok is watching him with so much patience, with so much warmth in his gaze, and Jungkook knows—knows—that if there’s anyone he can say this to, it’s him.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he finally says, voice quiet but sure. “Overwhelmed? Yes. But… not uncomfortable.” He exhales, searching for the right words. “It’s strange because logically, I feel like I should be. This—it’s all too fast. It would be for most people. For most humans, at least.” His lips press together, and he looks down at his hands for a moment before lifting his gaze back to Hoseok’s. “But I don’t feel that way. Not really. Not deep down where it matters.”

Hoseok doesn’t say anything, just watches him, letting him take his time.

Jungkook hesitates, then continues, voice softer now. “I feel it. Somewhere inside me, in my soul or—whatever part of me has changed since I got here.” He gestures vaguely, struggling to explain. “I feel like this was meant to happen. That it had to. Like everything in me already knew it before I even understood.” He lets out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “It doesn’t make sense, and it should scare me, but somehow it doesn’t.”

Hoseok tilts his head slightly, as if considering his words, but doesn’t interrupt.

Jungkook shifts where he sits, pressing his lips together. “I think,” he starts, then pauses, trying to make sense of his own thoughts. “I think what was scary was… how strong it felt. How intense.” His hands curl slightly, and he frowns. “Because the only other emotion I’ve ever felt this strongly before was fear.”

Hoseok’s expression shifts, something in his eyes darkening with quiet understanding.

Jungkook presses on. “Maybe—maybe that’s why it felt overwhelming. Because these emotions—this happiness, this warmth I feel when I’m with you, with everyone—it’s too much. It’s too deep. And I think, unconsciously, I was associating it with the only thing I’ve ever known that was this strong.” He exhales sharply. “Fear has ruled my life for as long as I can remember. It was all I ever felt before I came here. So maybe the issue isn’t how fast this is happening, but how deep it runs. How much it affects me.”

He lifts his gaze back to Hoseok, something raw and unguarded in his eyes. “This kind of affection, this kind of joy—it’s still so foreign to me. I don’t know how to process it. I don’t know how to hold it without worrying that it’s going to slip through my fingers.” He swallows. “But I do know that I don’t want to let go of it. That I don’t want to be scared of it anymore.”

Silence stretches between them for a moment, thick with meaning, and Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest as he waits for Hoseok to say something. Anything.

And then, slowly, Hoseok reaches forward, his touch light as he brushes his fingers against Jungkook’s wrist—gentle, grounding. “Pup,” he murmurs, his voice steady, warm. “You’re not alone in this.” His gaze is unwavering, firm with conviction. “We’ll take it one step at a time. However you need.”

Jungkook exhales, something inside him settling at those words, and he nods. Because for the first time, maybe ever, he believes it.

Jungkook hesitates before speaking again, his fingers curling slightly against the fabric of his pants. The words sit heavy on his tongue, but he forces himself to say them, to admit what has been lingering in the back of his mind for so long.

“I feel scared sometimes,” he murmurs, voice quieter now, as if confessing something fragile. “Not because of you, or anyone here, but… because I don’t understand why I’ve changed so much since I got here.” His throat tightens slightly, but he pushes forward. “Why can I suddenly smell your scents when I never could before? Why do I feel this need to be close to you, to be with you?” His voice wavers, confusion laced through every syllable. “I’m human. This—this isn’t normal for humans. It feels like I’m doing things I shouldn’t be able to do.”

Hoseok’s expression softens, but there’s something serious in his gaze, something weighted with understanding. He doesn’t rush to answer, simply lets the words settle between them before speaking.

“I get it,” he says, voice steady and filled with warmth. “I understand why that would scare you, pup.” His fingers twitch slightly, as if resisting the urge to reach for Jungkook, to offer more reassurance through touch. “For us, we were just happy for you. Happy that you could feel what we feel, that you could sense us the way we sense each other. We didn’t stop to think that it might be scary for you. That it might feel like something was changing inside you in a way you didn’t understand.” He exhales, regret flickering through his eyes. “We should have talked about this sooner. We should’ve seen that it was weighing on you.”

Jungkook shakes his head slightly, not wanting Hoseok to feel guilty, but Hoseok continues before he can say anything.

“We’ll figure it out, Jungkook.” His voice is firm, unwavering. “We’ll do everything we can to find the answers you need. You deserve to understand what’s happening to you—who you are.” His gaze holds steady, as if making a silent promise. “Maybe we can ask the elders. They know more than we do, more about things that go beyond what’s common knowledge. If anyone might have an explanation, it’s them.”

Jungkook stares at him, at the sincerity in his eyes, at the way his words carry so much weight. And for the first time since he started noticing these changes in himself, he feels like he won’t have to figure it out alone.

The quiet moment is suddenly interrupted when the door creaks open, and Jimin steps inside. Jungkook barely has time to sit up before the omega makes his way over, plopping down on the couch beside him like he belongs there. Without hesitation, Jimin reaches for Jungkook’s legs, lifting them with ease and settling them onto his lap, rubbing small circles against his ankle like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Jungkook barely has time to process the affectionate gesture before Jimin tilts his head and smiles at him, something soft and knowing twinkling in his eyes. “You smell like Hoseok-hyung now,” he hums, voice teasing but undeniably fond.

Jungkook stiffens, his fingers twitching where they rest on Hoseok’s thigh. It’s true, of course. He’s covered in Hoseok’s scent now, completely wrapped in it, surrounded by the warmth of it like a second skin. The realization makes his face heat up, but before he can say anything, Hoseok lets out a soft chuckle.

“You like it?” the beta asks, his voice holding a note of amusement as he glances at Jimin.

Jimin’s smile widens. “I do.” Then, with a glint of mischief in his eyes, he leans forward just slightly, gaze locking onto Jungkook’s. “I can’t wait to claim you too.”

Jungkook’s breath catches. His cheeks flame instantly, warmth spreading down his neck as Jimin’s words settle deep in his chest, leaving his heart thundering wildly against his ribs. He knows Jimin isn’t just saying it to fluster him—he means it. And the worst, or maybe the best, part? Jungkook likes the thought. Too much.

Jimin, completely unbothered by Jungkook’s obvious flustered state, simply pats his shin, amusement flickering in his expression. “Hoseok-hyung told us about your cute little date while you were asleep,” he says, his voice dipping into something softer, something filled with warmth. “I’m so happy for you, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook blinks, surprised by the sudden sincerity in Jimin’s tone. “You are?”

“Of course,” Jimin says, his thumb absentmindedly stroking soothing lines against Jungkook’s ankle. “Because it means you’re getting closer to us. Because it made your bond with Hoseok-hyung even stronger.” His smile softens, eyes shining with something tender. “And I can’t wait for the same thing to happen with the rest of us.”

Jungkook swallows thickly. His heart is racing again, but this time, it isn’t just because he’s embarrassed. It’s because he wants that too. Wants it so badly he doesn’t know what to do with the feeling.

Hoseok and Jimin exchange a glance before Jimin grins and nudges Jungkook’s leg playfully. “It’s almost dinner time, sleepyhead,” he announces, squeezing Jungkook’s ankle. “You were out for a few hours.”

Jungkook blinks, rubbing his eyes as he slowly pushes himself up. “A few hours?” He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep, let alone for that long.

Hoseok hums, brushing his fingers through Jungkook’s hair again like he can’t help himself. “It’s normal,” he reassures him, his voice gentle. “Claiming bites take a lot out of you. Your body is adjusting to it, and it seems like you’re especially sensitive to them.”

Jungkook’s fingers instinctively move to the side of his neck, where the lingering ache of Hoseok’s bite still pulses faintly beneath his skin. He doesn’t mind it, though—it feels right, grounding in a way he never expected. “I… didn’t even really know what a claiming bite was,” he admits, his voice quiet. “Not until you asked if you could bite me.” He hesitates, lowering his hand. “But I knew. The second you said it, I just knew it was exactly what I needed.”

Hoseok stiffens. His eyes widen in horror, and he grips Jungkook’s knee like he can’t believe what he’s just heard. “Jungkook,” he breathes, voice a little strangled. “You mean you had no idea what it meant?”

Jungkook bites his lip, a little sheepish now. “Not really. But I—”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Hoseok interrupts, his brows furrowing, looking somewhere between distressed and frustrated. “You didn’t even ask? What if—Jungkook, you can’t just let things happen without knowing what they mean.” His hold on Jungkook’s knee tightens slightly, as if he’s trying to ground himself. “You should always ask when you don’t understand something.”

Jungkook shrinks slightly at the sudden intensity, but he’s not scared—just a little flustered. “I didn’t need to,” he says honestly. “The moment was… it was too intense. I just knew. I didn’t have to ask.”

Hoseok lets out a breath, clearly exasperated, but there’s so much fondness in his eyes that Jungkook knows he’s not actually mad. Still, the beta shakes his head and mumbles under his breath, “What if you end up accepting other people’s advances without even knowing it hum?”

Jimin, who has been watching with an amused smile, finally bursts into laughter. He reaches over, taking Jungkook’s hand and squeezing it in both of his. “Don’t worry, hyung,” he teases. “We’ll make sure no one else takes advantage of Jungkookie’s obliviousness.”

Jungkook pouts, but Jimin only laughs harder, swinging their hands between them. “Come on,” he says brightly. “Jin-hyung is almost done with dinner. Let’s get you fed before Hoseok-hyung works himself into a real crisis.”

When they step into the dining room, Jungkook immediately notices Taehyung finishing up setting the table, carefully adjusting the plates and smoothing out the tablecloth. From the clatter of dishes and the faint scent of something rich and savory, Seokjin is still in the kitchen, no doubt putting the final touches on dinner. The air is warm with the comforting presence of the pack—he can pick up Yoongi and Namjoon’s scents somewhere deeper in the house, their familiar presence making him feel settled.

Taehyung glances up just as they enter, and the moment his eyes land on Jungkook, he abandons his task without hesitation. His entire face lights up with an unmistakable joy, and in a heartbeat, he’s in front of Jungkook, wrapping him up in a tight, eager hug. He holds him close, swaying them gently from side to side, his scent sweet and familiar as he hums contentedly.

“I missed you today,” Taehyung says, his voice warm, a slight pout tugging at his lips as he pulls back just enough to look at Jungkook properly. His hands settle on either side of Jungkook’s face, tilting his head slightly before his eyes drop to the side of his neck.

Jungkook doesn’t even have a second to react before Taehyung beams, his entire face lighting up as he takes in the fresh claiming mark. “Oh, look at this,” he coos, tracing a featherlight finger over the spot, eyes shining with pure delight. “I’m so happy for you, Jungkookie.” His tail practically wags behind him as he grins up at Hoseok. “I knew it! I knew you wouldn’t be able to control yourself.” He turns back to Jungkook, eyes fond. “You’re just too cute.”

Jungkook doesn’t even have time to process the words before Taehyung suddenly leans in, pressing a quick, affectionate kiss to his cheek. Jungkook startles, eyes widening as warmth floods his entire face, but Taehyung only tilts his head and smiles at him, entirely unfazed. “I can’t wait to make you mine too,” he says cheerfully, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Jungkook’s brain stalls.

He barely registers the way Hoseok chuckles beside him, the way Jimin snickers under his breath, clearly enjoying his flustered reaction. But Taehyung remains completely unbothered, looking at him like what he just said is the most obvious truth in the world.

And maybe, Jungkook realizes, for shifters—it is.

Taehyung hums happily as he turns back to his task, finishing up setting the table, and the rest of them instinctively move to help. Jungkook follows along, grabbing utensils and placing them beside the plates, careful to align them neatly. Jimin moves effortlessly beside him, bumping their shoulders together playfully every so often, and Hoseok leans against the table with an easy smile, watching them with warmth in his eyes.

By the time they’re done, Seokjin emerges from the kitchen, carrying steaming dishes with practiced ease. The scent of food fills the room—savory and rich, comforting in a way that makes Jungkook's stomach give an appreciative twist. Seokjin sets the last of the dishes down with a satisfied nod before turning toward him.

Without hesitation, the beta steps closer, wrapping Jungkook in a warm, firm embrace. Jungkook melts into it almost instinctively, letting himself be surrounded by the soothing weight of his presence. Seokjin presses a soft, lingering kiss to the top of his head, his touch lingering for a moment before pulling back just enough to meet his eyes.

“I’m happy for you, Jungkookie,” Seokjin murmurs, his voice gentle, full of sincerity.

Jungkook’s chest tightens, warmth blooming from the center outward. He swallows past the sudden lump in his throat and nods. “Thank you, hyung,” he says softly.

Seokjin squeezes his shoulders once before stepping back, clearing his throat as he claps his hands together. “Alright, everyone sit,” he announces, voice slipping easily into his usual authoritative tone.

Jungkook barely has time to sit before Jimin and Taehyung settle in on either side of him, both pressing in close like it’s second nature. He’s getting used to it—how freely they give their affection, how easily they close the distance between them. It’s still overwhelming sometimes, but not in a bad way.

Just as Hoseok and Seokjin take their seats, Jungkook feels it.

A shift in the air. A pulse of something deep, something commanding. It comes before the sound of footsteps, before the familiar rumble of their voices.

Namjoon and Yoongi enter the room.

Jungkook doesn’t even have to look to know. Their scents flood the space in an instant, thick and undeniable, pressing at the edges of his awareness. It’s always like this when they’re near—intense, all-encompassing. But tonight, somehow, it feels even stronger, like something in the air is heavier than usual. His breath catches slightly, his fingers curling into his lap before he reminds himself to exhale.

Maybe it’s just him. Hoseok had said he was sensitive, and with the claiming mark still fresh, maybe everything is just amplified.

Namjoon is the first to approach, his presence radiating warmth as he steps in close. “Hey, pup,” he greets, voice deep, smooth, as his hand comes up to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. It’s an affectionate gesture, one Jungkook has felt before, but tonight it feels different. Warmer. More grounding.

Then Yoongi is there, a quiet hum escaping him as he reaches out, his knuckles brushing against Jungkook’s cheek in a slow, deliberate touch. His fingers are cool, soothing against the warmth of Jungkook’s skin.

Jungkook blinks up at him, caught off guard by the gentleness in his gaze, the way his thumb barely grazes his jaw before he pulls back.

“Glad to see you awake,” Yoongi murmurs, his voice softer than usual.

Jungkook swallows, nodding. “Yeah… me too.”

Something flickers in Yoongi’s eyes at that—something knowing, something understanding. But then Namjoon is ushering them toward the table, and the moment passes, slipping away like a whisper.

The table is filled with the warm hum of conversation as they settle into their meal, each of them naturally slipping into the rhythm of recounting their day. Jimin leans into Yoongi’s side as he eagerly shares details about their outing, his voice lilting with excitement as he talks about the quiet moments they had together, the places they visited, and the little gifts Yoongi had surprised him with. Yoongi listens with a small, fond smile, occasionally adding a dry comment that makes Jimin swat at his arm playfully.

Across from them, Namjoon and Seokjin take turns describing their trip to the trading markets, the elder rolling his eyes as Namjoon goes off on a tangent about a rare book he had found. Seokjin, ever the storyteller, exaggerates their adventure, making the others laugh when he dramatically reenacts Namjoon’s expression at the sight of a particularly expensive artifact.

Taehyung, seated beside Jungkook, grins as he recounts his fishing trip with Elder Minseok, describing how the old man had nearly fallen into the river while trying to teach him a new technique. His excitement is infectious, his gestures animated as he talks about the fish he caught, how proud the elder had been, and the peacefulness of the lake.

And then, inevitably, the attention turns to Hoseok and Jungkook.

Jimin, always the instigator, is the first to bring it up. “So… how was your date?” he asks, a teasing lilt in his voice, his eyes practically twinkling with mischief.

Jungkook stiffens immediately, his chopsticks faltering mid-air, but before he can scramble for an answer, Taehyung gasps dramatically, leaning forward. “More importantly—” he points at Jungkook’s neck, where the claiming bite rests, a faint mark against his skin. “You claimed him, Hobi-hyung! I knew you wouldn’t last.”

The table erupts into laughter, and Jungkook wishes it would swallow him whole.

Hoseok, however, looks anything but embarrassed. He simply leans back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, and smirks. “Of course, I did. How could I resist?” His eyes flicker toward Jungkook, dark with something knowing, something smug. “He wanted it.”

Jungkook nearly chokes.

Seokjin chuckles as he reaches for another helping of food. “We’re just glad he let you claim him.” His tone shifts slightly, growing more sincere. “It’s a big step, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook blinks at that, the words settling into his chest in a way that makes him hesitate. He glances at Hoseok, at the confidence in his expression, the steady warmth in his eyes. Then he looks at the others, at the way they all seem genuinely happy for him.

“I—” He clears his throat, sitting up a little straighter. “What does it actually mean?”

The room quiets slightly, all of them seeming to take his question seriously.

“It’s different from a mating bite,” Namjoon explains, his deep voice even, calm. “A claiming bite is more superficial—it strengthens a bond, but it’s not permanent in the same way.”

Jungkook nods slowly, listening.

“It also makes it clear to others that you’re taken,” Jimin adds, smiling. “Not just because of the mark, but because you’ll carry Hoseok’s scent with you for a while. It won’t overpower yours, but any shifter who gets close enough will know you’re his.”

Jungkook exhales, processing that. It makes sense—the lingering warmth he feels in his skin, the way he keeps catching traces of Hoseok’s scent even when they aren’t touching. It’s comforting, grounding in a way he hadn’t expected.

And yet, the knowledge that others would be able to tell… that they would look at him and know… it makes his heart stutter a little.

Hoseok seems to notice because he reaches under the table, slipping his fingers around Jungkook’s wrist and squeezing gently. “Don’t overthink it,” he murmurs, voice low but full of warmth. “It simply means that others will recognize the special bond we share.”

Jungkook’s face burns. He ducks his head, too flustered to respond, while the others chuckle at his reaction.

It’s overwhelming—being the center of attention like this, having them all focused on him, but it doesn’t feel bad.

It just feels… like he belongs.

As the last of the dishes are washed and dried, Jungkook wipes his damp hands on a cloth, feeling the pleasant warmth of the home settle around him. There’s something undeniably comforting about being here—about the laughter still lingering in the air from dinner, about the soft glow of the lanterns illuminating the room, about the steady presence of everyone around him.

But the realization that the day is ending makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. He clears his throat, shifting from foot to foot. “Um… I should probably head back to the infirmary,” he says hesitantly, voice quieter than usual. “It’s getting late.”

He doesn’t miss the way the air shifts at his words. There’s a brief pause before Namjoon, who had been drying a plate, sets it down carefully on the counter.

“Actually,” Namjoon starts, his voice calm but carrying something weighty beneath it. “Before you go, we wanted to ask you something.”

Jungkook glances between them, suddenly hyperaware of the way they’re all watching him. Jimin and Taehyung are seated on the counter, their legs swinging idly, but their expressions are soft with something unreadable. Hoseok is beside him, towel still in hand, gaze steady. Seokjin leans against the table, arms crossed, while Yoongi stands near the doorway, silent but present.

Namjoon takes a step closer. “We all talked about it,” he continues, watching Jungkook carefully, “and we wanted to ask if you’d stay here with us. Permanently.”

Jungkook’s breath catches. He blinks.

“…Stay?” His voice is barely above a whisper. His fingers tighten around the edge of the cloth in his hands. “Like… live with you?”

Namjoon nods, his expression unwavering. “Yes.”

Jungkook doesn’t know how to react. He opens his mouth, then closes it, his thoughts stuttering.

Namjoon must sense his hesitation because he offers him a small smile, taking another step closer. “We actually wanted to ask you even before you accepted our courtship,” he admits. “Having you here with us already feels right. We’d be really happy if you stayed.”

Jungkook’s throat is dry. His heart is pounding. He doesn’t know why this makes him so nervous.

“But,” Namjoon continues gently, “if you’d prefer to live on your own, we already have a cabin ready for you. It’s your choice, Jungkook-ah. No pressure.”

Jungkook’s brain short-circuits.

They’re serious. They’re really asking him to stay. To live with them. To have a home here.

Something inside him tightens painfully, like his heart doesn’t know whether to leap or sink.

He should be happy, shouldn’t he? They want him. They want him enough to offer him a place in their home, in their lives. And yet, all he can hear is the rush of blood in his ears, the frantic beating of his own heart as panic creeps in, uninvited.

This is real. This is real, and it’s happening so fast.

For years, he had never belonged anywhere. And now, suddenly, they’re offering him a home? Just like that? As if it’s the easiest thing in the world? He doesn’t know how to process it. His chest tightens. His breathing grows shallow.

Jungkook’s hands tremble slightly as he grips the cloth in his hands. He tries to form words, but they’re stuck in his throat.

He doesn’t know what to say.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

Jungkook’s heart is a mess of emotions—twisting, pounding, aching.

He wants this. He wants this so badly it almost scares him. The thought of waking up to their voices every morning, of sitting at this table for every meal, of being surrounded by their warmth and their scents, of knowing—really knowing—that he belongs here… It’s overwhelming. It’s unfamiliar. But it’s what he wants.

Still, a small, fragile part of him hesitates, and before he can stop himself, he quietly asks, “Do you really want me to stay?” His voice is soft, unsure. “Are you sure that’s okay?”

The response is immediate.

“Of course we do,” Jimin says, voice thick with emotion, his eyes wide with sincerity.

“We would love nothing more,” Taehyung adds, his smile so bright it feels like sunshine.

Namjoon watches him carefully, his gaze warm, reassuring. “Jungkook,” he says gently, “we’re asking because we truly want you here. With us. You don’t have to say yes if you’re unsure, but we’d be so happy if you did.”

Yoongi doesn’t say much, but when Jungkook glances at him, the alpha simply offers him a small, knowing smile from where he’s seated. His eyes, dark and steady, hold something Jungkook can’t quite name, but it makes him feel… safe.

Jungkook swallows, gripping the cloth in his hands as he looks down at the floor.

He wants this. He wants this so bad.

So he lifts his head, taking a shaky breath, and finally says, “I… I want to.” His voice is barely above a whisper at first, but when he sees their faces light up, something settles in his chest, making him braver. “I want to stay with you. I want to live here.”

The reaction is instant.

Jimin lets out an excited squeal and practically launches himself at Jungkook, wrapping his arms around him tightly. “Oh my god, I’m so happy! You’re staying! You’re really staying!” Taehyung gasps dramatically before tackling Jungkook from the other side, squeezing him so tightly he almost can’t breathe. “This is the best news ever! I knew you’d say yes—I just knew it!”

Jungkook laughs, feeling his cheeks heat up at their enthusiasm.

Namjoon smiles, his expression full of warmth and something incredibly fond. He places a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “We’ll make sure you feel at home with us,” he promises. “You’re part of our family now.”

Jungkook’s chest tightens at that, the words hitting him in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

Family.

Yoongi simply nods at him, his smile small but real. There’s something in his expression—satisfaction, maybe, or quiet approval—that makes Jungkook feel… accepted.

Hoseok, ever the sunshine, ruffles Jungkook’s hair and grins. “Well, looks like we officially have our littlest pup with us now.”

Seokjin sighs dramatically, but his eyes are twinkling with amusement. “You mean our littlest baby. He’s ours now, officially. I always knew this day would come. We'll take such good care of you Jungkookie.”

Jungkook groans, face burning. “Hyung—”

But they’re all laughing, and he can’t even be annoyed, because underneath his embarrassment, there’s something else. Something warm. Something solid.

Belonging.

That night, Taehyung and Jimin don’t even ask. They simply take his hands in theirs and pull him towards the room they’ve all but claimed as their own. Their nest.

“Our nest,” Jimin corrects when Jungkook hesitates at the doorway.

“It’s your room now too,” Taehyung adds, voice gentle but firm. “Not a guest room anymore.”

Jungkook swallows thickly, watching as they rearrange the soft blankets and pillows to make room for him, like this is the most natural thing in the world. Like they’ve already decided he belongs here, with them, tucked into their warmth, wrapped up in their scent.

And maybe he does.

So he lets them pull him down into the softest pile of comfort he’s ever known, the scent of cherries and raspberries surrounding him, mixing with the faintest traces of lilac now clinging to his skin.

Jimin curls up against his side, his fingers brushing lazily through Jungkook’s hair, while Taehyung buries his face against his shoulder, one arm draped possessively over his waist. They’re warm, so warm, their breathing steady and even, and the weight of their bodies pressed close to his makes him feel anchored in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.

Jungkook exhales, slowly sinking into the safety of their embrace.

He doesn’t say it out loud, but as sleep begins to pull him under, he finds himself hoping—praying—that they never let go. That they never stop holding him like this.

That this warmth, this comfort, this home—never fades.

--

The next morning, Jungkook wakes to the comforting weight of Taehyung and Jimin still tangled around him, their warmth lingering even as they stir awake. The house is filled with the scent of breakfast, something sweet and buttery wafting through the air, and when they finally drag themselves out of the nest, they find Seokjin fussing over a spread of food on the table, Hoseok and Namjoon setting out plates, and Yoongi sipping his tea at the counter.

Jungkook is barely seated when Taehyung claps his hands excitedly. "We should do something special today!" he announces, eyes sparkling. "To celebrate Jungkook’s claiming!"

Jungkook stills, mid-bite, cheeks heating at the reminder. The claiming. The mark. Hoseok’s teeth sinking into his skin, the way it had felt—he shoves the thought away before he embarrasses himself.

Jimin, completely unfazed, grins. "Oh, that’s a great idea! What should we do?"

Taehyung hums, tilting his head in thought. "A picnic! The weather is perfect, and we’re all free today." Then his eyes widen with excitement. "We should go to the clearing near the river! It’s always so pretty there, and it'll be even more fun now that Jungkook is with us!"

Jungkook has no idea where that is, but the way Taehyung looks at him, so bright and eager, makes it impossible to say no. He’d go anywhere for Taehyung.

With the plan set, they finish breakfast and start preparing for their outing, packing baskets full of food while Seokjin supervises. Jungkook is given the very important job of making sure nothing is forgotten, which mostly means standing around while the others expertly move around the kitchen, but he tries his best.

Before they leave, Jungkook pulls on his boots and shrugs into Yoongi’s coat, the fabric still heavy with the alpha’s familiar scent. His fingers reach instinctively for the small blue flower resting on the table, carefully tucking it behind his ear. It’s starting to wither now, its petals curling at the edges, but he still wears it anyway.

It’s become a habit—one he’s unwilling to let go of.

Because even as it fades, the flower is precious to him.

As they make their way toward the door, Jungkook adjusts the straps of his coat, ensuring the thick fabric sits snugly around his frame. He barely notices the others slipping into their own coats and boots, too caught up in the excitement of their upcoming outing. But then he feels it—a shift in the air, a familiar weight of presence drawing near, and before he can prepare himself, Yoongi steps closer, reaching out with steady fingers to touch the delicate blue flower tucked in his hair.

Jungkook stills.

The touch is barely there, just the whisper of Yoongi’s fingertips against the soft petals, but it sends a shiver down his spine nonetheless. It isn’t just the touch itself—it’s the way Yoongi’s gaze lingers, heavy and unreadable, as if committing the sight to memory. Jungkook feels his breath catch in his throat, his pulse fluttering wildly, and suddenly, he’s all too aware of the warmth radiating from the alpha’s body, so close he can almost feel it seeping through his coat.

“You’re still wearing it,” Yoongi murmurs, his voice deep, slightly rough around the edges, but unmistakably fond. There’s an almost teasing lilt to it, but something about the way he says it—low, quiet, meant only for Jungkook to hear—makes Jungkook’s stomach flip.

Jungkook fights the instinct to shrink away, to curl into himself like he always does when he’s overwhelmed. But this is Yoongi, and something about him always makes Jungkook want to hold his ground, even when his body screams at him to retreat.

His fingers twitch at his sides before he forces himself to speak. “Of course I am,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. His cheeks burn, but he stands firm. “You gave it to me.” He hesitates, then exhales softly, gathering the courage to add, “It’s… a precious memory.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Jungkook doesn’t dare move, doesn’t dare breathe, caught in the way Yoongi’s expression shifts, the smirk from earlier melting into something softer, something quieter. The alpha studies him, gaze sweeping over Jungkook’s face as if he’s trying to decipher something unspoken, and then, just as quickly as it came, the moment passes.

Yoongi’s lips curve into a small smile—not a smirk, not a teasing grin, but something genuine. “You look pretty with it,” he says, the words slow and deliberate, as if they hold more weight than they should.

And then, as if he hasn’t just turned Jungkook’s entire world upside down, Yoongi steps back and turns away, reaching for his coat as though nothing had happened at all.

Jungkook stares after him, frozen in place, feeling as if his heart is about to beat straight out of his chest. His entire body is warm, flushed from head to toe, and it takes him a long moment to even process what just happened.

It isn’t that his hyungs haven’t called him pretty before—they have, in passing, in teasing remarks, in affectionate gestures. But something about the way Yoongi said it, something about the way his gaze lingered, makes it feel… different. More intimate. More real.

Jungkook swallows hard, barely registering the way his hands clench and unclench at his sides.

A soft giggle pulls him out of his daze.

Before he can turn his head, a warm hand slips into his own, fingers threading together with ease, and Jungkook finds Jimin beside him, eyes twinkling with barely contained amusement.

“I know the feeling,” Jimin murmurs, voice low and conspiratorial as he leans in closer, squeezing Jungkook’s hand in comfort. “Yoongi-hyung makes my heart beat so fast too.”

Jungkook exhales a shaky laugh, some of the tension in his body easing at Jimin’s words. It’s comforting, knowing he’s not the only one affected, knowing that even someone as effortlessly charming and confident as Jimin gets flustered under Yoongi’s gaze.

Jimin gives his hand another reassuring squeeze before tugging him forward, guiding him toward the others.

Jungkook lets himself be pulled along, still dazed, still lost in the lingering warmth of Yoongi’s words.

His heart is still racing, his cheeks still burning, but somehow, with Jimin beside him, it all feels a little easier to bear.

Notes:

Hey guys !! 💕

I'm so happy that Jungkook finally feels comfortable enough to open up and share his feelings with them. That takes so much courage, and I know from experience how hard it can be! 😭💖

Also, Hoseok being so soft with him?? I CAN'T. My heart is melting!! 🥺✨

And omg, Yoongi saying just one sentence and completely wrecking Jungkook without even trying?? Send help, I’m losing it !! 😭🔥

I can't wait to share the next chapter about their day together—it's going to be so sweet!! 🥰

See y’all soon !! 💖

Chapter 34: The Price of Kindness

Summary:

The pack spends the day together

The moment Jungkook steps outside, the crisp morning air greets him, carrying the scent of damp earth and the lingering traces of pine. The sunlight filters through the trees, casting dappled patterns across the forest floor, but none of it compares to the warmth blooming in his chest.

Excitement thrums beneath his skin, his heart beating a little too fast as he glances around at the people surrounding him, His hyungs.

They’re all here, waiting for him, walking alongside him, smiling at him. For him.

It still feels unreal.

Even though he knows—knows deep down that they want him here, that they want him—it’s difficult to wrap his head around. The concept of being wanted, of being chosen, is foreign in a way that makes his throat tight. He’s never had this before. Never had anyone he ached to be close to. Never had anyone who made his fingers twitch with the desire to reach out, to touch, to hold on.

But now, he does.

Jimin’s fingers are laced through his, their hands swinging lightly between them as they walk, and Jungkook finds himself squeezing just a little, like he’s making sure it’s real. Jimin doesn’t let go. He only glances up at him with a bright smile, his scent curling warm and sweet around Jungkook, and something in his chest clenches, unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

He likes this.

He likes them.

He likes the way Namjoon is walking just ahead, his large hand wrapped securely around Seokjin’s, their steps perfectly in sync. He likes how Yoongi leans in close to murmur something into Seokjin’s ear, watching with obvious satisfaction as the beta turns red, spluttering as he swats at him. He likes the way Taehyung cackles at the scene, teasing Seokjin mercilessly while Hoseok joins in, both of them delighted at their hyung’s flustered state.

It’s all so soft. So natural.

Jungkook can’t stop staring.

It’s a strange feeling, watching them like this—being part of this. His chest feels too full, his throat too tight, but for once, it’s not because of fear. It’s something warmer, something sweeter.

Something that feels a lot like home.

Jimin tightens his grip on Jungkook's hand, his fingers warm against his skin, and presses closer to his side. The subtle shift in their steps feels almost instinctual, like they were meant to walk this way, together. Jungkook’s heart skips a beat at the closeness, the soft weight of Jimin’s presence by his side. It feels easy, comfortable—natural, even.

They walk along the narrow trail, the group falling into a rhythm, and the soft banter around them adds to the warmth in Jungkook’s chest. He listens as the hyungs tease Taehyung relentlessly, the laughter filling the cool air with an almost tangible lightness.

"Taehyung-ah," Namjoon calls out with exaggerated sighs, "do you even know where you're going? We're going to end up walking until the moon's high in the sky at this rate."

Taehyung, who’s walking a few steps ahead, grins cheekily without missing a beat. "I know exactly where I’m going! You all are just too old to keep up with me. You don’t appreciate a good walk in the woods anymore," he shoots back, his voice light but filled with mischief.

Hoseok snickers, chiming in with a playful groan. "I think my feet are gonna fall off before we even get there. Why didn’t you just take us to the nearest inn for a nap, Taehyungie?"

Jungkook can hear the teasing lilt in Hoseok’s voice, but there’s a fondness there, too, one that’s almost tender. It makes his heart swell, even as he follows quietly behind.

"Please," Taehyung grins over his shoulder, "they’re just jealous of my sense of direction. I’ll get us there before the sun sets, you’ll see." He dramatically glances down at Jungkook, the only one not participating in the teasing. "At least my sweet Jungkookie knows how to appreciate my navigation skills, huh?"

Jungkook laughs softly, a genuine sound that escapes him before he can even stop it. He can’t help it, the scene is so effortlessly soft. Taehyung’s childish antics, the teasing, the easy smiles—everything about this feels so right, like it was made just for him. His hyungs, so vibrant and full of life, their laughter mingling with the crisp winter air, make Jungkook feel more alive than he ever thought possible.

"You're impossible, Tae," Jimin laughs from beside him, his voice light and amused. "But we’re all glad you're here to guide us anyway."

The teasing continues in good spirits, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. It’s the first time he’s been around so many people who truly feel like they care, and in this moment, with Jimin’s hand in his and the sounds of the forest surrounding them, it all feels so… right.

After what feels like more walking than he had anticipated, they finally reach the clearing Taehyung had promised. It’s small, nestled in a little pocket of trees. Tall pines surround the space, their long, thick trunks towering over them as if standing guard. Winterberry bushes, their deep red berries contrasting against the evergreen leaves, edge the clearing, adding pops of color to the otherwise muted greens and whites of the forest.

Jungkook stands still for a moment, taking it all in. The clearing feels intimate, secluded almost, like a secret place meant only for them. He feels a rush of understanding flood through him, and a soft smile tugs at his lips. This is why Taehyung had chosen this place—so they could have this, just for themselves. It’s calm, peaceful, and somehow, it feels like home. A space where they can be together, without the noise of the world intruding.

Jungkook glances around at his hyungs, and without even realizing it, he inhales deeply, the familiar scents of them all swirling in the air. They’re here with me, he thinks, his heart fluttering in his chest. And in this moment, it feels like there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.

They spread out the blankets in the middle of the clearing, carefully arranging them on the soft snow so that no one would get too cold sitting down. The hyungs keep calling out that they're making sure their “little ones” are taken care of, and Jungkook laughs at the thought. The way they treat him with such warmth, such care—it’s nothing he’s ever experienced before, and it fills him with a deep, comforting sense of belonging.

The air is crisp, and though it’s not quite time for food yet, there’s a buzzing energy among them. They all settle in, getting comfortable, but there’s no time to relax for long before they start talking about playing some games. The idea is met with immediate excitement—this is exactly what Jungkook needs.

“Alright, no excuses,” Taehyung grins, already jumping to his feet and stretching his arms. “We’re going to play everything. Tag first, then dodgeball, then maybe a card game if we’re feeling competitive!”

Jungkook’s heart skips at the idea. He’s never had this much fun with anyone. Sure, he’s played games before, but it’s always been hollow, without this kind of laughter, this kind of carefree energy.

As the group splits up into teams, Jungkook finds himself on a team with Hoseok and Taehyung. They’re all set to play dodgeball, and the game feels lighthearted—no real pressure, just pure fun. Namjoon, Jimin, and Seokjin are their opponents, while Yoongi is in charge of keeping track of points and making sure no one cheats. It’s a perfect setup.

Hoseok and Taehyung are full of energy, calling out encouragements to Jungkook, their faces bright with anticipation.

“Come on, Jungkook-ah, you’ve got this!” Hoseok grins, tossing the ball to Taehyung.

Jungkook’s chest tightens with excitement, his hands itching to be a part of the action. He’s never played dodgeball before, but something about the way his hyungs are looking at him, cheering him on, makes him want to try harder, to impress them. It’s a strange feeling, but one he cherishes.

The ball is soft—almost too soft—but it still feels oddly satisfying when it hits someone, the gentle thud of it echoing in the air. Jungkook takes a deep breath, scanning the field, watching as Namjoon, Seokjin, and Jimin position themselves. Taehyung is already throwing the ball, quick and strategic, while Hoseok circles behind, ready to make his move.

Jungkook gets into position, and before he knows it, the ball is coming straight at him. He sidesteps effortlessly, his heart racing as the ball flies past him. I dodged it, he thinks, his mouth forming a surprised smile. He hasn’t missed a single ball yet.

Taehyung laughs and claps him on the back. “Nice reflexes, Kookie! You’re really good at this!”

Jungkook’s cheeks heat up with the praise, but it feels so right to be here, surrounded by his hyungs who are all so encouraging, so full of life. He never thought playing a game like this could make him feel so... alive. He bounces on his heels, ready for the next ball to come at him.

This time, it’s Seokjin’s turn to throw, and he aims for Jungkook with precision, but Jungkook is too quick, diving out of the way just in time. The ball sails past him again, missing by mere inches.

He’s laughing now, the sound of it bubbling out of him before he can stop it. It’s so easy to laugh when he’s with them, so easy to get lost in the game, in the moment. His hyungs are all cheering for him now, even Namjoon’s face lighting up with pride.

“You’re killing it, Kook-ah!” Jimin calls, his voice filled with admiration.

Jungkook feels like he could soar. For the first time, it’s like he’s part of something, truly part of them. He feels seen, heard, like he matters. And that feeling is everything.

With another quick move, Jungkook manages to dodge yet another ball, and soon, the game becomes a blur of fast movements and laughter. His heart races, not out of fear, but out of sheer joy. For once, everything feels simple, uncomplicated. He doesn’t have to think too much. He can just be—with them.

The game goes on, but Jungkook doesn’t care about the score anymore. It doesn’t matter if they win or lose. What matters is the way his heart feels light, the way his laughter rings out clear and free, and the way his hyungs are all smiling at him. It’s all so... right.

Even when the ball finally manages to hit him, knocking him out of the game, he doesn’t mind. His laughter echoes around the clearing as he sits down, and Hoseok and Taehyung are quick to pat him on the back, praising him for his skills. They’re all so proud of him. And for once, he feels like he deserves it.

Jungkook leans back on his elbows, taking in the sight of his hyungs—Jimin’s grin, Namjoon’s warm smile, Seokjin’s playful wink, Taehyung’s gleaming eyes, and Hoseok’s infectious energy. It’s more than he’s ever dreamed of.

He didn’t realize how much he longed for this kind of simple, pure connection until now. And now that he has it, he doesn’t ever want it to end.

The moment Taehyung dramatically clutches his stomach and moans, “I’m going to die if I don’t eat something right now!” the whole group bursts into laughter. Jimin, ever the quick-witted one, rolls his eyes and teasingly responds, “Oh please, you ate enough this morning to last you a full month. Stop being so dramatic.”

Taehyung gasps in mock horror, placing his hand over his chest as if Jimin had just stabbed him. “How could you say such a thing? Eating isn’t just about sustenance, Minnie. It’s about the experience, the journey,” he says, his voice rising in exaggerated indignation.

Jimin chuckles, shaking his head. “Right, the experience of stuffing your face until you can’t move.”

“Exactly!” Taehyung declares proudly, ignoring the smirk on Jimin’s face. He’s clearly enjoying the banter.

At that, Hoseok, who has been quietly watching the exchange with an amused smile, finally speaks up. “Alright, you two, stop bickering like kids and come sit down to eat. The food’s not going to eat itself.” He points towards the blankets that are spread out in a circle, a signal that it's time to settle down.

Jungkook watches the back-and-forth with a smile, his heart light at the sight of their easy camaraderie. He’s never seen anything like this before. This warmth, this teasing—everything just feels so effortless.

As they all sit down in the circle, Jungkook finds himself sandwiched between Seokjin and Taehyung. It’s a comfortable position, their closeness a source of warmth that Jungkook has come to cherish. Taehyung’s shoulder brushes his as he makes himself comfortable, and Jungkook can’t help but smile at how natural it all feels.

The food is simple but mouthwatering, a mix of warm bread, savory stews, roasted vegetables, and bowls of rice. It’s not extravagant, but it’s so much more than just food to Jungkook. There’s an undeniable care in each dish, a love that’s woven into every bite. Seokjin’s cooking always does this to him—it’s comforting, grounding, and just right. He can already tell that he’ll never tire of it.

As he picks up his chopsticks and takes a bite of the stew, his taste buds come alive. It’s savory, rich with flavors that make him close his eyes for a moment. He chuckles to himself, thinking how Seokjin might just be right when he says he’s a better cook than Halmeoni. But then again, Jungkook would never, ever risk saying that to her face. He knows better than that.

He glances over at Seokjin, who is enjoying his own bowl of food, a proud smile playing at the corner of his lips. There’s something about the way Seokjin cooks, something that makes even the simplest meal feel like it’s made with the utmost care. Jungkook feels a sense of warmth spread through him at the thought. It’s these small moments, these little gestures, that make him feel so connected to them.

The laughter and teasing continue around him as they all dig into the meal. Hoseok keeps cracking jokes, and Taehyung occasionally throws in an exaggerated comment to keep things light. Jungkook feels his heart swell with a quiet contentment. It’s a strange feeling, but it’s good—so good. He’s never felt so at ease, so surrounded by love.

Jimin looks over at him and gives him a soft smile, and for a moment, Jungkook feels his cheeks warm. He quickly looks down at his food, his heart fluttering. He’s never been good with compliments or attention, but it’s different with them. It’s always different with them.

“Jungkookie, try the rice,” Taehyung says suddenly, breaking his thoughts. “It’s even better when mixed with Jin-hyung’s stew.”

Jungkook looks up at Taehyung, who’s already holding out his spoon with the rice and stew on it. He smiles softly, not able to resist the offer. As he takes the bite, a small sigh escapes his lips. The flavors blend perfectly, the warmth of the stew mixing so well with the soft, sticky rice. He looks over at Seokjin, giving him a grateful smile.

“This is amazing hyung,” he says, genuinely. Seokjin beams at him, pleased by the compliment.

“I’m glad you like it,” Seokjin replies, his voice warm, his eyes twinkling with pride.

As the meal continues, Jungkook takes it all in—every laugh, every teasing comment, every satisfied hum from his hyungs. The soft flicker of the fire nearby casts a warm glow on their faces, the snow around them glistening under the setting sun. For once, everything feels perfect. The feeling of belonging, of being part of something so effortlessly beautiful, fills him with more happiness than he ever thought he deserved.

At some point, after they’ve all eaten their fill, Taehyung dramatically places his hand on his stomach, leaning back against the blanket with an exaggerated groan. "I can’t do this anymore, guys. I’m going to die if I eat another bite," he announces, his tone overly dramatic as he stares at the empty bowls in front of him. His expression is one of complete, exaggerated despair.

Jimin rolls his eyes. "You’re never content, are you? You’re going to die if you don’t eat, and you’ll die if you do. What’s the difference, huh?" he teases, nudging Taehyung playfully.

Taehyung immediately shoots him a glare, clearly not appreciating the sarcasm. "But how can I stop eating when the food is this good?" he whines, looking at the spread in front of him like a child being denied their favorite treat. He gives a dramatic sigh, clearly refusing to be dissuaded from indulging in just one more bite.

Namjoon, sitting next to Seokjin, shakes his head with a knowing smile. "You should know better than that, Taehyungie," he chides gently. "You can’t eat until you’re sick. Remember what happened last time?"

At that, Taehyung’s face flushes a deep shade of red, his eyes widening in embarrassed horror. "Namjoon-hyung, please," he pleads, his voice a little desperate as he glances around the group. "Please don’t talk about that again."

Jungkook, ever curious, looks around at his hyungs, eyes wide with confusion. "What happened?" he asks innocently, his voice laced with genuine curiosity.

Hoseok, who’s been listening quietly, chuckles to himself before leaning over to Jungkook. "Oh, this is a classic. One time, Taehyung-ah ate so much ice cream—different flavors, mind you—that he got so sick he was out for a whole week. Even his shifter metabolism couldn’t save him from that mess," Hoseok says, laughing at the memory. "It was kind of a rookie mistake, honestly."

Taehyung groans and drops his head into his hands, clearly mortified. "It’s not funny, Hobi-hyung," he mutters, clearly wishing the earth would swallow him up. "That was in the past, and I’ve learned my lesson. It was an embarrassing time, okay?"

Jungkook can't help but laugh at the sight of Taehyung, who usually exudes such confidence, looking so flustered and small in that moment. It’s a side of him he’s never seen before, and the contrast to Taehyung’s usual playful, carefree demeanor makes him chuckle all the more.

Seokjin looks up at Taehyung with an amused smile. "You really need to stop overindulging, you know. You’re going to be the death of yourself with how much you eat," he teases, his voice soft and affectionate.

"Thanks, Jin-hyung," Taehyung mutters sarcastically, although there’s no real bite to his words. He seems to take it all in stride, even if he’s still blushing furiously.

Hoseok pats him on the back, still grinning. "It’s okay, Tae. We’ve all learned our lessons the hard way. Just maybe stick to a more manageable portion next time."

Taehyung just huffs and sits up straighter, looking around at the group with mock seriousness. "Okay, okay, I get it," he says with a dramatic sigh. "But the ice cream was really good, alright? Next time, I'll just eat the whole tub in moderation." He winks, a playful glint returning to his eyes.

Jungkook laughs again, feeling the warmth of the moment seep deeper into his chest. It’s moments like these, filled with laughter and teasing, that make everything feel right. He’s never been part of a group like this before—where the bond is so natural, so easy. He feels so... included. So loved. And it’s the kind of feeling he could never have imagined, but it’s all his now.

After they finish their lunch, everyone lounges in the clearing for a few moments, basking in the satisfaction of a full stomach. It’s Jimin who breaks the calm first with a wide grin spreading across his face. “Let’s play hide and seek!” he suggests, his eyes sparkling with excitement. The rest of them look at each other, exchanging amused glances before nodding enthusiastically.

Jungkook blinks, unsure. He’s never played before, never even heard of it being played like this. His mind races as he watches the others prepare, looking back and forth between the smiling faces of his hyungs. “How are we supposed to hide if you can all smell each other?” Jungkook asks, his brow furrowed in confusion, voice soft. He can’t quite grasp how this game could possibly work in the face of their heightened senses.

The others chuckle, and Jimin is the first to answer, giving Jungkook a playful wink. “You’ll just have to hide well enough,” he says with a laugh. “We all have our tricks.”

Jungkook’s expression is still uncertain as he watches Taehyung bounce on his heels. Taehyung leans in a little closer and whispers, “The hyungs always do this. Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it.” There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes, and before Jungkook can ask what exactly he means, the alphas begin to speak up in unison.

“You all can hide,” Namjoon says, voice deep and filled with authority. “We’ll be the ones to seek.”

Jungkook blinks in surprise, but Taehyung’s low murmur fills in the blanks. “Alphas like the thrill of the chase,” he says, a sly grin spreading across his face. “It’s in their instincts.”

Something about that makes Jungkook’s heart skip a beat. It’s the way Taehyung says it, like he knows something Jungkook hasn’t figured out yet, but the way his words seem to settle in the air around them makes Jungkook think of something Hoseok had said before.

The memory floods his mind like a wave, and suddenly, it clicks. Hoseok had said it so casually, so easily, that Jungkook hadn’t thought twice about it at the time— “You make me want to give chase.”

Jungkook's heart starts to pound a little faster, but he quickly shakes the thought away. This is just a game, he reminds himself. A silly, fun game. But the word chase lingers in his mind, causing his cheeks to heat just a little.

The hyungs start spreading out, preparing for the hunt. They all seem so eager, almost predatory in their excitement. Jungkook feels a knot form in his stomach, a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. He’s not sure if it’s the game or the words still echoing in his head, but something inside of him stirs. It’s all so new, so intense—these feelings, these connections with each of them. And now, with the added layer of this chase, the thrill of the hunt feels almost... personal.

Taehyung gives him a playful shove, his grin widening. “Come on, let’s go find the perfect hiding spot! If you hide well enough, you might just get away,” he teases, his tone light, but Jungkook senses a deeper meaning behind it.

Jungkook smiles nervously, following the others into the woods, his heart still racing. He doesn’t know what it all means yet, but he’s starting to feel it. The connection. The bond. The chase.

As they run through the snow, the cold air biting at their faces, Taehyung glances over at Jungkook, his face lit up with mischief. “We should hide together,” he says, his voice light but full of excitement. “Since it’s your first time playing, I’ll make sure you get a good spot. We have enough time to find the perfect place.” His smile is wide, his energy infectious, and Jungkook can’t help but laugh, feeling a warmth spread through him at the thought of being part of the game.

The group had spread out quickly, the alphas already starting their countdown, and the others had dispersed to find hiding spots. Jungkook feels an odd thrill in the air, something that’s different from the usual excitement he feels when playing a game, but he pushes the feeling down. It’s just a game, after all. Still, the thought of being chased by the hyungs, especially the alphas, sends a nervous flutter through his chest.

“So where should we go?” Jungkook asks, his voice soft with uncertainty as he tries to focus on the task at hand.

Taehyung hums, his eyes twinkling. “How about near the river?” he suggests. “The smell of the stream could throw them off a little. It’ll mask our scents, and they’ll have a harder time tracking us.” His playful spirit is contagious, and Jungkook finds himself smiling, liking how carefree Taehyung is about it all.

“Sounds good,” Jungkook says, nodding.

Taehyung grins and starts leading the way, his long strides pulling him easily through the snow. Jungkook follows close behind, enjoying the pace, his heart still thumping with the excitement of the game. The air is crisp, and the sound of their feet crunching on the snow is all that fills the space between them, until they come to the edge of the forest.

As they approach the river, they hear it before they see it—the steady rush of water, roaring through the landscape. The sound is powerful, the roar of the river filling the otherwise quiet winter air. Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise at the sight of the water.

Taehyung stops in his tracks, furrowing his brow. “Wait,” he mutters, clearly surprised. “This river is usually frozen at this time of year.” His voice carries a hint of confusion, his eyes scanning the rushing water in front of them. “I didn’t expect it to still be flowing like this. The sound... it’s louder than I thought.”

Jungkook glances at the river, feeling the rush of water and the powerful, constant flow that somehow seems both soothing and overwhelming. The roar of the current is far louder than he had anticipated, and he can see how it could throw off the others' sense of smell. The alphas would have a harder time catching their scent with the river’s rush so close, but the noise, it’s almost as if the river itself is protesting their presence, as though the land knows they’ve crossed into its domain.

Jungkook looks at Taehyung, who seems unbothered but still intrigued by the strange situation. “Guess it’s good for us, though,” Jungkook says quietly, his voice a little shaky from the rush of adrenaline that courses through him.

Taehyung smiles back at him, a soft, reassuring grin. “Exactly. We’ll be fine. Just keep quiet, and maybe we’ll even get away from them.”

They both settle a little closer to the water’s edge, the sound of the river roaring louder now as it drowns out everything else around them. Taehyung lowers his voice, a little quieter now that they’re near their hiding spot. “The others probably think we’ve hidden by now. Let’s just wait. Maybe we’ll catch a glimpse of them when they come running by.”

Jungkook nods, feeling a growing sense of excitement, but there's something else too, a deep, comforting feeling that comes from being here with Taehyung. The cold around them feels less sharp, the world quieter, almost as if everything is waiting with them.

Taehyung tugs at Jungkook’s hand, pulling him a little farther from the river’s edge, his eyes scanning the landscape. The stillness around them feels almost eerie, as if the world has paused for a moment, holding its breath. The river before them is an unusual sight.

On their side of the bank, the ice stretches thick and unyielding, a solid mass glistening under the pale winter sun. But across the river, the ice is broken, shards scattered like glass, the water rushing wildly beneath the fragile surface. It’s as though the river itself has torn apart, the once frozen surface split in two, leaving behind a dangerous path.

Jungkook’s gaze lingers on the split river, wondering what caused the ice to fracture this way. Maybe the current is just too strong for the ice to form evenly, he thinks. Still, they continue to move away from the water, staying close enough that they can still hear the distant roar of the current but far enough to avoid danger.

But then, out of nowhere, they both freeze. There’s a noise—a faint sound that drifts through the air, so soft at first that it could be mistaken for the wind or the rustling of the trees. But as it becomes clearer, as it cuts through the icy quiet of the forest, the sound grows sharper, more distinct. It’s a whimper. An animal’s cry.

Jungkook looks at Taehyung, confusion flickering in his eyes, but Taehyung is already pulling him in the direction of the sound, his face a mask of concern. “Stay close,” Taehyung urges, his grip on Jungkook’s hand tightening as he leads him forward. “We need to check this out. It’s not far.”

The urgency in Taehyung’s voice sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine. There’s something in his hyung’s expression—something that tells him this isn’t just a curious animal they’ve stumbled upon. Something’s wrong.

They move through the snow, feet crunching loudly in the cold air as they get closer to the source of the noise. The whimpering grows louder, more frantic, and as they push through a thicket of trees, they finally see what’s causing it.

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat. There, just at the edge of the frozen river, is a small form—no bigger than a puppy. The creature is struggling to keep its footing on the thin ice, his legs slipping as he inches dangerously close to the water’s edge. The river roars beneath him, the sound of rushing water growing louder in Jungkook’s ears, threatening to swallow the poor creature up.

“Oh no,” Jungkook breathes, his heart clenching in his chest. He takes a step forward, but Taehyung’s hand tightens around his wrist, pulling him back.

“Don’t,” Taehyung warns, his voice tense with fear. “If you step too close, you could crack the ice. We need to stay back. It’s too dangerous.”

Jungkook’s eyes dart from Taehyung to the struggling pup, his chest tight with panic. He’s just so small, so helpless. The ice beneath him looks thin, fragile, and Jungkook can see how he's trying desperately to stay upright, but the frantic movements seem to only make it worse.

Taehyung’s face has gone pale, his lips pressed tightly together in a grim line. “It’s a pup,” he says, his voice low and strained, as if speaking the truth might make it more real. “I don’t know how he got out here, but he’s too close to the edge.”

The whimpering of the pup echoes in Jungkook's ears, the sound of his cries piercing through the cold air. Each pitiful yelp pulls at his heart, his chest tight with the overwhelming urge to help. The little creature looks so small and fragile, his tiny body trembling as he shifts helplessly on the thin ice. Every movement, every desperate step, inches him closer to the roaring river, to the gaping chasm of freezing water that threatens to pull him under.

Jungkook’s breath hitches as he watches the pup struggle. He’s so scared, so lost, and the ice beneath him seems so fragile, breaking away with every desperate shuffle. The feeling of helplessness that gnaws at his insides is unbearable. He can’t just stand here and do nothing. The pup could die right in front of them, and there’s no time to waste. They have to save him. They have to—

Taehyung is pacing, his hands running through his hair in panic, his voice harsh and urgent as he calls out to the pup, trying to get his attention, trying to calm him. “Stop moving!” he shouts, his voice breaking with desperation. “Stay where you are! We’re going to help you!”

But the pup only whimpers louder, his tiny paws slipping on the slick ice as he inches closer to the dangerous edge. Jungkook can feel his heart hammering in his chest, each beat a painful reminder that time is running out. They don’t have much longer. If they don’t act now, the pup could fall into the river, and there’s no coming back from that.

Jungkook’s voice shakes as he turns to Taehyung, his eyes wide with panic. “We have to do something now! We can’t waste even one more second, he's going to fall in!” His hands are trembling at his sides, fingers curling into fists, desperate to do something, anything to help. “There’s no time! We have to act now!”

Taehyung looks at him, his face pale and strained, his eyes filled with urgency. “Stay here, Jungkook,” he says, his voice tense with determination. “I’ll go get the pup. I know how to handle this. Just stay on the bank. It’s too dangerous for you to come out here. I’ll be quick.”

Jungkook’s stomach lurches, his breath catching in his throat. He can’t let Taehyung go alone. Not when the pup’s life is on the line, not when the river is so dangerous, and the ice is cracking. The thought of Taehyung going out there, alone, without backup, fills him with dread.

“No!” Jungkook exclaims, his voice cracking. He steps forward, shaking his head frantically. “You can’t go out there alone, hyung! It’s too dangerous! The ice could break—what if you fall in too?”

Taehyung’s gaze softens for a moment, but his jaw is set, his eyes hard with determination. “I can do this, Jungkook-ah,” he says, his voice low and firm. “But I need you to stay here. You’re not trained for this. If anything happens to you, we’ll never be able to forgive ourselves. I’ll be fine. I’m faster than you think.”

But Jungkook can’t just stand there and let Taehyung risk everything. The terror clawing at his chest is overwhelming, the thought of the pup slipping into the river, or worse, of Taehyung getting caught in the current, fills him with a fear he can’t control.

“I’m not letting you do this alone,” Jungkook says, his voice trembling but determined. His hand shakes as he reaches out to Taehyung’s arm, stopping him. “Please, let me help. I don’t care if I’m not trained—I won’t let you go out there by yourself. We do this together. We have to save the pup together.”

Taehyung stares at him, his expression a mix of fear and hesitation. For a moment, there’s a silent tension between them, the weight of the situation pressing down on them both. But then Taehyung sighs, a deep breath escaping him as he finally nods.

Taehyung’s face is tight with fear, his brow furrowed as he looks out at the ice. He’s clearly struggling, torn between wanting to keep Jungkook safe and knowing the urgency of the situation. His breath comes in sharp, shaky bursts, and for a moment, it feels like the world is spinning too fast for either of them to keep up. The pup’s frantic cries echo in Jungkook’s ears, and his heart squeezes in his chest, each sound a jagged piece of anguish.

Taehyung’s voice is strained, barely controlled as he looks at Jungkook, his hand gripping the side of his jacket with white-knuckled intensity. "Jungkook, please," he pleads, his words faltering as he tries to hold back the panic threatening to spill out. "You can’t come. It’s too dangerous.

I can’t—" He stops himself, as though the weight of the situation is too much to say aloud. His eyes flick to the pup, who still struggles, too scared to even hear them. His words hang in the air, heavy with dread. "I can’t risk you life."

But Jungkook doesn’t back down. His chest aches with the tension between them, the way Taehyung is fighting so hard to keep him safe, and how he can’t just stand there. Not when the pup is suffering. He shakes his head, voice cracking under the pressure of the situation. “It’s more dangerous for you to go alone,” he says firmly, every ounce of his resolve pouring into the words. “We don’t have time to argue about this. The pup is getting closer to the edge, hyung! We need to move now.”

Taehyung hesitates, his jaw clenching, clearly unwilling to let Jungkook get any closer to the danger. But after a tense silence, he looks at him—really looks at him—and seems to see the determination in his eyes. Jungkook isn’t backing down. The urgency, the fear, it’s all there in his gaze. He knows they have no choice. They have to work together, or they’ll lose the pup, and maybe even themselves.

With a tight nod, Taehyung finally relents, but his expression is still conflicted, the weight of the decision pressing heavily on his shoulders. He doesn’t say another word as he turns, leading the way. The tension in the air is thick, and Jungkook can feel his heart pounding in his chest, the thundering of his pulse too loud in his ears. Every step feels like it’s dragging him deeper into the cold, into the danger that lies ahead.

As they move closer to the edge, Taehyung carefully tests the ice with his foot. The sound is soft, almost inaudible, but Jungkook watches him closely, anxiety clawing at his throat. Taehyung looks back at him with a tight nod, his voice low but steady. “It’s thick here,” he says, his words almost drowned out by the sound of the rushing water beneath the ice. “We can walk on it, but we need to be careful. The ice is thinner where the pup is, near the edge. We need to move slowly, make sure the ice won’t crack under us.”

Jungkook nods, swallowing the lump in his throat as he tries to steady his breathing. His hands are shaking slightly, his fingers cold against the fabric of his jacket, but he doesn’t dare show it. He can’t. Not now. They have to save the pup. He has to help.

“Stay behind me,” Taehyung continues, his voice soft but urgent. “Don’t step anywhere I don’t step. We can’t risk both of us falling through. If anything happens, I need you to go back. Do you understand?”

Jungkook’s eyes are wide with worry, but he nods, his voice small. “I’ll stay behind you.”

They start moving, the ice creaking beneath their feet with each careful step. Taehyung’s movements are measured, calculated, and Jungkook mirrors him as best as he can, his steps careful, light. The closer they get to the pup, the louder his whimpers become. The sound tugs at Jungkook’s heart, making it ache with empathy. He wants to run, scoop him up and comfort him, but he knows better. One wrong move, and they could all be in danger.

Taehyung reaches out, his voice low as he tries to calm the pup. “Hey, little one,” he murmurs softly, his tone gentle, soothing. “It’s okay, we’re here. You’re safe now, just stay still. Don’t move, alright?” His voice cracks slightly at the end, but he doesn’t falter, continuing to coax the pup in the hopes he will calm down.

Jungkook follows behind, his throat tight as he watches the pup, terrified and helpless, struggling on the ice. He feels the weight of the moment, the life of this tiny creature resting in their hands. He’s so fragile, and the ice beneath him is cracking with every movement. Jungkook’s voice joins Taehyung’s, just as soft, just as urgent. “We’re here, little one. We’re gonna get you out. Just hold on, please. You’re not alone anymore.”

The pup whimpers again, his small form trembling as he looks between them, eyes wide with terror. He doesn’t understand, can’t comprehend the danger. But he hears their voices, feels the warmth in their words, and for a moment, he stops struggling. It’s enough for Jungkook to breathe just a little easier, but the fear doesn’t leave. Not yet.

With every step they take, the ice seems more fragile, the sound of the river growing louder, the current dangerous. They’re so close now. So close, but it feels like it’s taking forever to reach the pup. Taehyung’s grip tightens on the edge of his jacket, and Jungkook’s own hand is curled into a fist, the tension of the moment unbearable.

They’re almost there. Almost. But the pup shifts again, moving just a little too much, and Jungkook feels his breath catch in his throat. The ice beneath him cracks.

“Don’t move!” Taehyung shouts, his voice breaking. He’s almost there, they’re almost there. They can’t lose this moment. “Stay still!”

And for just a heartbeat, the pup listens.

The air feels thick, heavy with fear. Jungkook’s heart is pounding so loudly, he’s sure Taehyung can hear it—feel it—too. The sound of the river roaring beneath the ice, its icy current crashing against the frozen edge, fills his ears. It’s relentless, a constant reminder of the danger they’re in. His breath comes in shallow bursts, his fingers trembling as they press against the ice, feeling its cold bite through his gloves. It’s too thin, too fragile under them, and every movement feels like it could crack it wide open.

Jungkook doesn’t know how they’re still holding on. He feels the ice beneath him groan, shifting slightly with every breath he takes. The cracking sound is too close, too real. It makes his stomach churn with dread. If it breaks, if the ice gives way even for a second, the current will sweep them away in an instant, and he knows he won’t be able to save them all. He knows what’s at stake—too much to lose.

The pup’s whimpering is louder now, the small creature trembling on the ice, his body shuddering with cold, his eyes wide with terror. Jungkook’s chest aches as he watches him, helpless. He’s never felt so powerless. He feels like they’re both on the edge of a cliff, one step away from disaster, and if they don’t move fast enough, it’ll all crumble beneath them.

Taehyung’s voice cuts through the tension, rough and strained with fear. “The ice is getting too thin,” he warns, his words clipped, the panic rising in his chest. “We need to crawl. Don’t stand. If you stand, it’ll crack under us.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. Without a second thought, he drops down to his hands and knees, his movements stiff and quick. His palms scrape against the cold surface of the ice as he places his weight carefully, slowly shifting forward. The fear eats away at him, but there’s no time to think. No time to back down.

Taehyung moves beside him, his body low to the ice, his eyes fixed ahead, unwavering. The omega’s focus is locked on the pup, his entire being coiled with tension, each movement deliberate, each inch earned with patience and desperation. Jungkook follows his lead, doing everything he can to stay close, to keep moving despite the terror gnawing at him.

The cracking sound intensifies. The ice shifts beneath them, groaning, and Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat. His pulse spikes, his stomach tight with nausea. It’s a dangerous game they’re playing—one false move, one crack, and they’ll be dragged into the freezing water below.

“Jungkook, keep going,” Taehyung murmurs, his voice strained but steady. His tone is like a lifeline, keeping Jungkook grounded, reminding him of the mission. They can’t stop now.

Jungkook nods, his heart racing, but his body moves instinctively, inching forward, crawling towards the pup. The sound of his own breath is loud in his ears, the ice beneath him too brittle, too fragile. Every time he shifts his weight, every time he moves even an inch, the ice creaks ominously. He’s sure that the next crack will be their last.

They’re getting closer. The pup is only a few meters away now, and Jungkook can see his small body shaking with fear, his wide eyes staring at them in terror. He looks so fragile, so small in the face of the danger around him. Jungkook wants to shout, to rush to it and scoop him up, but he knows better. One sudden movement and everything will fall apart.

Taehyung is ahead of him, his body tense, his movements calculated. He’s so close now. Closer than Jungkook ever thought possible. But the ice is cracking beneath them again, louder this time, sharper, like a warning. Jungkook feels the ice tremble beneath him. His heart skips a beat, his entire body frozen in place as the fear hits him like a tidal wave. Please, please hold. Just a little longer.

Taehyung’s voice is quiet, almost drowned out by the sound of the river beneath them. “Almost there, little one,” he whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. His hand stretches out toward the pup, fingers trembling with fear, but steady with determination. “We’ve got you. Just stay still, okay? We’re almost there.”

Jungkook keeps his gaze fixed on Taehyung’s back, on the way his muscles tense with each movement, on the way his breaths come in shallow, steady gasps. He wants to reach out, to reassure him, but all he can do is keep moving. He has to. They both have to.

The ice groans again, and Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat. The cracking is louder now, more persistent. His heart races as he looks up at Taehyung, their eyes locking for a brief moment. Taehyung’s expression is hard, there’s a flicker of fear in his eyes. He’s just as scared as Jungkook is, but he won’t let it show. Not now.

“Hold on,” Taehyung murmurs, his voice strained but full of resolve. He reaches out, his hand just inches from the pup, his fingertips brushing the edge of his fur. The tiny creature is trembling, his body stiff with fear, but he doesn’t move. He’s waiting for them.

Jungkook’s stomach twists in knots. They’re so close now, but the ice beneath them is so thin, so fragile. It feels like the world is teetering on the edge of a cliff, and they’re one misstep away from falling into the abyss.

They can’t stop now. They have to make it.

Jungkook feels a cold shiver run through him, but he pushes it down. He can’t afford to hesitate. He can’t afford to let fear control him. Not now. Not when there’s still a chance to save the pup.

“Stay calm,” Taehyung whispers to the pup as his hand finally reaches out and wraps gently around his tiny body. “We’ve got you.”

Jungkook feels his chest tighten as he watches the pup settle into Taehyung’s grip, his shaking slowly subsiding. He’s safe. They’ve got him. But they’re not done yet.

Jungkook forces himself to take one more step, slowly, cautiously, his eyes locked on Taehyung’s every movement. He doesn’t care about the ice anymore. He doesn’t care about the danger. He just has to get to them. They have to get out of here.

Jungkook’s heart races, his chest tight with anxiety. He can feel the nausea rising in his throat as his mind spins with doubt. This is too dangerous, he thinks, feeling the weight of their situation crash down on him with every passing second. We should’ve called the hyungs. We should’ve waited. We shouldn’t have come. But it’s too late now, and the reality of it all hits him like a cold wave. They can’t afford to second-guess themselves now.

He watches Taehyung, whose movements are quick, but there's a flicker of panic in his eyes that Jungkook sees all too clearly. Taehyung’s usually so calm, but in this moment, the panic is raw—undeniable. The omega’s hands are shaking as he holds the pup, his grip tight but gentle. The pup’s tiny form is limp in his arms, still shaking uncontrollably, and Jungkook wants to rush in, wants to take it all away, but he knows he can’t. The situation is too precarious. They both know it.

Taehyung looks at him, his face tense with urgency. “We need to push him. We need to get him to the bank, now.” His voice is tight, almost shaking with the same fear that grips Jungkook’s heart.

Jungkook swallows hard, his throat dry. “But... what if he falls through the ice? What if he...?” He can’t bring himself to finish the thought, the fear choking the words in his throat.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung’s voice is sharp, focused, trying to anchor him. “We don’t have time. If we don’t do this now, he’ll fall into the water. He’ll be swept away.”

Jungkook looks down at the pup, still trembling, barely aware of his surroundings, his tiny body fragile against the icy landscape. He can’t imagine what it’s like for him. He can’t even begin to fathom how much fear he must be feeling, alone on this freezing ice with no way out.

Taehyung’s hands move quickly, shifting the pup carefully into position. The ice cracks slightly beneath him, a sickening sound that sends a fresh wave of panic flooding through Jungkook. His stomach turns violently at the thought of what could happen next. But there’s no turning back now. They can’t just leave the pup here.

"Stay calm," Taehyung whispers to the pup, his voice soft and reassuring. "Stay still. We’re going to get you out of here."

Jungkook takes a deep breath, his whole body tight with fear. He watches as Taehyung adjusts his grip, his eyes steady but filled with a deep, consuming fear that makes Jungkook’s chest ache. He can see how much Taehyung cares—how much he’s willing to risk for this small, helpless creature.

Taehyung moves quickly, his hands gripping the pup’s body firmly but carefully. Jungkook can hear the sharp inhale of breath that Taehyung takes before, with a single swift motion, he pushes the pup forward, sending him sliding across the ice. The pup slides with a smooth, almost graceful motion, but the sound of the ice cracking beneath him is enough to make Jungkook’s blood run cold. It’s all too fragile. Too fragile.

“No, no, no…” Jungkook whispers, his voice trembling as he watches the pup glide. His heart slams against his ribcage, every beat drowning out the sounds around him. Please don’t fall. Please don’t break.

The pup slides toward the bank, its tiny paws scrabbling weakly at the ice. Its movements are slow, uncoordinated. The terror in his eyes is palpable, and Jungkook can barely breathe through the fear tightening in his chest. He watches, frozen, as the pup gets closer—closer—until it’s just inches from the bank.

“Come on, little one,” Taehyung calls softly, his voice strained with anxiety. “Just a little more. You’re almost there.”

Jungkook’s hands are shaking as he kneels down, his heart threatening to tear out of his chest. He can’t stay still, not now. He can’t just wait for the pup to reach the bank—it’s too dangerous. He needs to be closer, needs to help, but the ice—every movement feels like it could crack the earth beneath him.

The ice groans again. A deep, heavy crack echoes through the air, louder than before, and Jungkook feels it reverberate in his bones. His blood runs cold. No. Please not now.

“Hyung, please!” Jungkook’s voice cracks, his body tense with fear. He watches as the pup slides the last few inches, finally coming to a stop right at the bank.

The moment he hits the edge, the pup scrambles to his feet, his small body still trembling but clearly relieved to be out of danger. Taehyung and Jungkook both move forward, reaching out to him in unison, urging him to scramble closer to the safe ground.

“Come on, little one,” Taehyung says, his voice shaking with relief. “You’re safe now. Just a little more.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches in his chest as he watches the pup, still trembling, struggle to push itself toward the snowbank. It takes one last desperate scramble before he finally reaches the solid ground, his tiny form collapsing in exhaustion.

Jungkook’s heart nearly stops in his chest as he watches him breathe in a shaky sigh of relief. He’s safe. He made it. But the terror doesn’t leave him. Not yet. He turns to Taehyung, who is just as shaken, just as terrified.

Taehyung looks at him, his eyes wide with raw, unfiltered emotion. There’s relief—thankfulness—but there’s also the lingering edge of fear that won’t seem to go away.

The air is thick with fear, suffocating, as the crack in the ice continues to spread, a jagged line that cuts through the frozen surface like a warning. Jungkook’s breath comes in shallow, panicked gasps, his chest tight with the weight of it all. His mind is racing, his heart pounding so loudly it’s as though the sound itself is enough to shatter the thin ice beneath them. His body trembles, every instinct screaming at him to move, to run, but his legs are frozen in place, paralyzed by the danger surrounding them. Every shift of his weight feels like it could be the one that cracks the ice completely.

Taehyung's hand tightens around his, the omega’s grip shaky but firm, as if trying to anchor both of them. He looks at Jungkook, his eyes wide, the panic clear in them now. His lips are trembling, and his breath is shallow as he pleads in a low, urgent voice, “Jungkook, stop. Please, don’t move.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, his eyes darting between Taehyung and the growing crack in the ice. The sound of it is deafening now, a sharp, ominous creaking that sends a shudder through his entire body. Every movement feels like a mistake, like the next step could be their last.

“Jungkook, stop!” Taehyung’s voice rises in panic. His face is pale, his eyes wide with fear, and his own body is trembling. “If we keep moving, we’ll—”

But before Taehyung can finish, the ice groans again, louder this time, and the crack widens just a little bit more. The sound seems to echo in the air, a brutal reminder of how thin the surface they’re standing on really is. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat as he stares at the crack, his stomach lurching. He feels like he’s suffocating. His mind spins with possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last.

What if the ice breaks? What if we fall?

The thought is unbearable, crushing. He looks at Taehyung, whose eyes are pleading with him now. “Jungkook, please. Don’t cry. Don’t panic. We can get out of here. We can do this,” Taehyung says, his voice tight but trying to stay calm. He reaches for Jungkook’s face, brushing away the tears that have already started to fall. But even in the calmness of Taehyung’s voice, the fear is evident.

Jungkook can’t stop the tears from falling, hot and fast down his cheeks. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he tastes the salt on his lips. “I’m scared, hyung,” he whispers, his voice broken, trembling. “I’m scared... I don’t want to fall... I don’t want to die.” The words slip out before he can stop them, raw and vulnerable, the fear in them so real it threatens to drown him.

Taehyung’s eyes widen, his expression shifting to something darker, more intense. He shakes his head furiously, as if the very idea of what Jungkook just said is too much to bear. “Stop it, Jungkook!” His voice cracks, desperation creeping in. “Don’t you ever say that. Don’t you ever say that again.” His grip tightens, almost painfully, his knuckles white against Jungkook’s skin. His face is so close now, their foreheads almost touching, his breath ragged and uneven.

Jungkook’s heart breaks as he stares into Taehyung’s eyes, searching for some kind of reassurance, but all he finds is fear—fear that mirrors his own. The look in Taehyung’s eyes is enough to make Jungkook’s stomach churn. He doesn’t want to lose Taehyung. He can’t even imagine what life would be like without him, and the thought sends waves of despair crashing over him.

“I can’t lose you,” Jungkook whispers again, his voice small, barely audible. His hands shake as they clutch at Taehyung, his body trembling with the weight of his fear. “Please don’t leave me. Please, don’t let us fall.”

Taehyung’s jaw tightens, his eyes burning with intensity, and for a moment, there’s silence between them. But then, slowly, Taehyung speaks, his voice low and steady, though it shakes with emotion. “You’re not going to lose me, Jungkook. You’re not going to lose anyone. We’re going to get through this. I swear we will.”

Jungkook nods, though it’s shaky, uncertain. He wants to believe Taehyung, wants to hold onto those words like a lifeline. But the ice beneath them creaks again, louder this time, and Jungkook feels his heart leap into his throat.

Suddenly, the sounds of their names being shouted reach them, faint but clear through the rushing roar of the river and the creaking ice. But neither of them can respond. They both know that even the slightest sound, even the smallest movement, could be enough to send them plummeting into the water below.

The tension in the air is unbearable. Jungkook’s chest is tight, and the tears keep coming. I’m so scared. I don’t know if we can get out of this.

“Kookie...” Taehyung whispers, his voice barely audible, as if he’s afraid to break the fragile silence. “Look at me. We’re getting out of here. Stay with me. Focus on me, okay? Just breathe.”

Jungkook’s sobs are quiet now, more contained, but they still shake his entire body. He doesn’t want to fall. He doesn’t want to die. He just wants to get out of here—wants to feel Taehyung’s arms around him, safe, on solid ground again.

“Please,” Jungkook whispers again, almost pleading, as his fingers tighten around Taehyung’s. “I can’t do this without you.”

Taehyung’s breath hitches, and for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of the river and the crackling ice. Then, Taehyung leans forward, his forehead pressing gently against Jungkook’s, and his voice drops to a whisper. “You’re not alone, pup. I’m right here. I’m never leaving you. Do you hear me?”

Jungkook nods, his body shaking, his breath uneven, but somehow, he believes him. He has to.

The sound of their names being shouted again slices through the cold air like a knife, a distant, frantic echo that makes Jungkook’s heart thud painfully in his chest. It’s not just the sound of their names anymore—it’s the sound of desperation, of urgency, and it makes his insides twist with a raw, biting fear that he can’t escape.

“Jungkook! Taehyung!” Namjoon’s voice is thunderous, shaking with panic, and it sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine. The urgency in Namjoon’s tone makes it clear that he knows something is terribly wrong. The weight of the words hits him hard, and his chest tightens, suffocating under the growing pressure of the situation.

“Stay still! Stay still, don’t move!” Namjoon’s voice breaks through the chaos, but it doesn’t bring comfort. Instead, it sharpens Jungkook’s fear. The desperation is unmistakable.

Yoongi’s voice follows, raw and filled with cursing. The sound of Yoongi’s usual cool composure is completely gone, replaced by something guttural, filled with fear. “Don’t you dare move!” he commands, his voice shaking. “Stay where you are!” The sound of Yoongi’s usual confidence is gone, replaced by something primal, something terrified.

Jungkook’s eyes stay locked on Taehyung, because the mere thought of looking away, even for a second, sends a rush of panic through his veins. If he looks away, Taehyung might disappear through the ice. If he doesn’t keep his eyes on Taehyung, something might happen, and Jungkook isn’t sure if he can handle it.

Namjoon’s voice cuts through the panic, sharp and full of urgency. “They’re on the ice, close to the edge!” His voice cracks, and Jungkook can hear the fear in it, a fear that makes his own heart race. Namjoon is clearly terrified. The world suddenly feels too big, too small, all at once. They are on the ice. They are on the edge. It’s as if everything is teetering, hanging by a single thread, ready to snap at any moment.

And then Jungkook hears Jimin.

Jimin’s voice is broken. It’s a strangled cry, filled with pure, unrestrained fear. “Taehyung! Jungkook!” Jimin sobs, the sound like a wound, raw and wide open. It’s the kind of sound that cuts through Jungkook’s heart like glass. Jimin’s panic is so real, so palpable, that Jungkook can’t breathe. This can’t be happening.

His eyes finally drift from Taehyung, just for a moment, to see their hyungs rushing toward them, their faces etched with fear, their eyes wide with panic. Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Seokjin—all of them are there, close to the bank now. But even as they move closer, Jungkook’s body seizes up, the terror consuming him. They’re too far away. It feels like they’re still a world away, and every second, every inch feels like a lifetime.

Jungkook's vision blurs with tears as he looks at them, his stomach twisting with every heartbeat. Namjoon’s face is twisted in worry, his eyes dark with fear, his jaw clenched tight as he sprints across the snow toward them. Hoseok’s expression is raw, like he’s willing the ice to stay together, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his face a mask of anguish. They’re all rushing toward him, toward Taehyung, but it doesn’t feel like enough. The crack in the ice widens, inch by inch, and the sounds of it—creaking, groaning, threatening to break—make it feel as if the world is splitting in two.

Jungkook’s chest tightens, his breath shallow and rapid. His head spins with dizziness as he hears Namjoon yell, his voice an animal’s growl of desperation. “Taehyung! Jungkook! You have to stay still! Do you hear me??”

The sight of his hyungs’ fear only deepens the panic inside of him. He feels like he’s suffocating under the weight of it. The hyungs’ voices, their frantic cries, their footsteps on the snow—it’s all too much. He feels like he’s being crushed, helpless, unable to move, unable to make the ice stop cracking.

Please, please, please.

Taehyung’s hand trembles in his as they both remain as still as they can, the ice creaking ominously beneath them. Every inch they move, every breath they take, seems to bring them closer to falling through, closer to drowning in the icy river below.

“Stay still!” Jimin’s voice rises again, almost a wail, and Jungkook feels his chest tighten with the agony in it. The cry is a desperate plea, but it’s also a plea for him to come back to them. A plea for them to be okay, to survive. Jungkook closes his eyes for a split second, not wanting to hear the pain in his voice, but it only seems to make the fear grow worse. The ice creaks again. The sound of it is enough to make Jungkook’s blood run cold.

"Please... don't move," Taehyung whispers through clenched teeth, his voice strained and broken. His face is pale, but his eyes are fierce, trying to keep them both calm. "We're getting out of here, Jungkook. I won't let go of you. Do you hear me?"

Jungkook nods, but even as he does, the fear weighs down on him, threatening to drown him in the overwhelming sensation of it all. He doesn’t want to lose Taehyung. He can’t lose Taehyung. The thought is unbearable, a pressure that cuts deeper than the cold wind biting at their skin.

"Stay with me," Taehyung murmurs, his voice trembling, and Jungkook holds on, because that’s all he can do right now. He can’t do anything else. His heart is a chaotic rhythm in his chest, a drumbeat of terror, but Taehyung’s grip is the only thing that feels real, the only thing that feels like they can survive this. He has to believe in Taehyung, has to believe that they can make it through this. They will make it through this.

But the ice keeps cracking.

The world seems to move in slow motion, stretching the moment into eternity. Jungkook’s heart skips a beat, and the crack of the ice echoes in his bones as if the very ground beneath him is splitting.

It’s too loud, too sudden. It’s the sound of the end.

He feels it before he hears it. The ice beneath them trembles, a low, threatening groan that vibrates through his body. His eyes widen in horror as Taehyung’s hand tightens around his.

Taehyung’s face is full of raw terror, his eyes wide, pleading, but it’s too late. The moment the crack splits through the ice, everything shifts, and it happens too fast to even react.

There’s no time.

The ice shatters beneath them.

Notes:

Hey!! 🤗✨

I'm so jealous. I want to have a picnic and play dodgeball with them too! 😩 And honestly, I’d do anything to try Jin’s cooking because it sounds absolutely divine. 🍱🤤

And well... sorry haha 😅 I just can’t resist adding a little bit of angst! It’s just too good! 😭 I swear I feel bad for putting Jungkook (and Taehyung) through all this... but I just can't help myself! 😔💔

Hope you're all doing well, and see you in the next chapter! 💖📖

Chapter 35: The Ice Gives Way

Summary:

The ice cracks beneath Jungkook and Taehyung

A scream rips from both their throats the moment the ice gives way.

For a single, heart-stopping second, the world holds still—just long enough for the realization to sink in, for their eyes to meet in shared horror. Then gravity takes hold, and the river swallows them whole.

The cold is instant, brutal—a violent shock that slams into Jungkook’s body like a battering ram. It isn’t just cold, it’s agony, a bone-deep, all-consuming freeze that robs him of breath before he even has the chance to gasp.

The impact knocks the air from his lungs, and then the river surges in, rushing into the space it leaves behind. His body seizes, instinct screaming at him to fight, but the water is everywhere, suffocating and crushing, wrapping around him like an unyielding vice.

The current is relentless. It seizes him, twists him, hurls him deeper into the darkness below. He can’t tell which way is up, can’t tell if he’s even moving at all—just that the force of the water is stronger than he is, stronger than anything he’s ever felt.

He kicks, flails, tries to claw his way to the surface, but his body is sluggish, his limbs numb and uncooperative. The weight of his soaked clothes drags him further, his boots like lead, his jacket an anchor that pulls him down, down, down.

His chest spasms, lungs convulsing as they scream for air, but there’s nothing—nothing but the icy burn of water, seeping into his very core. The need to breathe is unbearable, every instinct demanding he inhale, but he can’t, he can’t, he can’t—he’s drowning.

Terror claws at him, sharp and suffocating. He tries to scream, but the river devours the sound before it can even form. His fingers reach blindly through the churning dark, grasping for something—anything—but there’s nothing but the relentless pull of the current, dragging him deeper into oblivion.

And then—Taehyung.

A hand—cold, desperate—clenches around his wrist, an anchor in the chaos. Jungkook doesn’t see him at first, can barely force his eyes open against the stinging burn of freezing water, but he feels him. The grip is weak, trembling, but it’s there, and it’s the only thing keeping Jungkook tethered to the world above.

Jungkook can’t breathe.

The icy water crashes around him, roaring in his ears as the current drags him under. It’s relentless, powerful, like a living thing determined to swallow him whole. His arms thrash uselessly, his body twisting and tumbling in the chaotic pull, but none of it matters—he’s weightless, powerless, trapped in the river’s merciless grip. His lungs scream, his chest aches, but panic is louder than pain.

Taehyung.

Jungkook clenches his frozen fingers around Taehyung’s wrist, nails digging into the soaked fabric of his sleeve, refusing to let go. He can’t let go. He won’t. But the water surges violently between them, ripping at their bodies, pulling them in opposite directions.

No—no, no, no.

Taehyung’s wide, terrified eyes lock onto his, mouth moving, forming words that Jungkook can’t hear, can’t understand. Water surges over them, and for a horrifying second, their heads dip even lower beneath the surface. Darkness swallows everything.

Jungkook’s world narrows to the crushing weight of water, the frigid burn of it filling his nose, his throat, stealing what little breath he has left. His lungs convulse, his body screams for air, but he fights the instinct to breathe—don’t breathe, don’t breathe.

Taehyung’s hand is still gripping his, tight, frantic. Jungkook can feel the omega’s fingers slipping against his, but Taehyung won’t let go. He holds on, his hand strong and determined, even as the icy current drags them further from the surface.

They’re sinking deeper, the weight of their clothes pulling them under, dragging them further into the cold abyss. Jungkook can feel his body aching with the effort to stay afloat, his limbs refusing to cooperate. It’s so cold—colder than anything he’s ever felt. His mind goes hazy as the water churns around them, the freezing current relentless.

With what little strength he has left, Jungkook tightens his fingers around Taehyung’s hand, refusing to let go. But the river isn’t done with them yet. The current surges, more powerful than their desperate grip, and he feels Taehyung’s fingers slip—

No.

Jungkook lurches forward, his frozen limbs screaming in protest, but it’s not enough. Taehyung’s fingers slide from his grasp, their connection severed in an instant.

And then—he’s gone.

In the chaos of the river, in the freezing darkness, Jungkook’s eyes search blindly for something, anything.

For just a second, his head breaks the surface. He gasps, coughing, eyes burning as he searches frantically for Taehyung. The river spins him, and he sees him—only for a moment. Taehyung’s hand is reaching, stretching toward him, glove barely hanging onto his fingertips.

Gone.

Jungkook’s heart stops.

The world around him shrinks into a single, horrifying instant—fingers outstretched, grasping at nothing but empty water. A sound rips from his throat, raw and desperate, but the river steals it before it can even form, swallowing his voice as easily as it swallows his hope. His hands claw through the freezing current, trying, begging to find purchase, to grasp onto something, anything—but there’s nothing.

No warmth. No hand.

No Taehyung.

No. No, no, no.

A sickening panic takes hold, deeper than fear, sharper than pain. He thrashes wildly, his body twisting and jerking against the river’s crushing grip, but his limbs are leaden, heavy, slow. The cold is inside him now, burrowing into his bones, making his muscles seize and stiffen.

He kicks, pushes, fights against the current, but it’s like trying to swim through solid ice, every movement sluggish and ineffective. He can’t move fast enough. He can’t fight hard enough. The moment of clarity—the desperate instinct to reach, to save, to survive—vanishes as another violent wave crashes over him, and suddenly, he’s under again.

The world drowns in a suffocating abyss.

The river is relentless, wrapping around him like a living thing, a beast that refuses to let go. The frigid water forces its way down his throat, burns his lungs, chokes him in a way that feels more like drowning in fire than ice. His chest convulses, his body rejecting the invasion, but it doesn’t matter—his lungs are empty, desperate, screaming for air that doesn’t exist.

I don’t want to die.

The thought is fleeting, scattered, barely coherent between the chaos of his body’s instincts screaming at him to breathe, to fight, to find the surface—but where is the surface? Which way is up? His vision is blurred, warped, twisting in the dark currents as the river thrashes him like a ragdoll, punishing him for trying to resist. His limbs flail, but they are weaker now, his body giving out with every second that passes.

He should have stopped Taehyung. Should have forced him to stay on the bank, where it was safe, where this couldn’t happen. He should have been stronger, smarter, faster. But now, none of that matters. Now they’re both drowning. Now they’re both going to—

A surge of water slams into him like a battering ram, stealing the last of his strength. The force knocks what little fight is left out of his body, and his limbs go slack, floating uselessly in the current. His chest aches with a deep, unrelenting pressure, the need for air turning from desperation to agony. His thoughts fracture, slipping away like grains of sand through trembling fingers.

He can’t fight anymore.

He’s sinking.

Jungkook hears screaming.

It’s distant, muffled by the water at first—just another part of the roaring chaos surrounding him. But then it sharpens, growing louder, more desperate, slicing through the rushing current like a blade. His name? Taehyung’s? Both? He can’t tell. He can’t tell because he can’t breathe.

He can’t breathe.

The river pulls him deeper, down, down, down, shoving him beneath its furious waves, swallowing him whole. The pressure is unbearable, crushing, suffocating—like the weight of the world pressing against his ribs, forcing every last ounce of air from his body.

His arms twitch, barely able to move now, his legs kicking weakly against a force too strong to fight. The water is wrapping around him like chains, dragging him further into the cold abyss, where the light barely reaches, where the air will never find him.

Taehyung—where’s Taehyung?

The panic resurges, sudden and violent, slicing through the haze creeping into his mind. Taehyung. He had him. He had his hand. Where is he? Where is he?

Jungkook forces his eyes open, but the water stings, blinding him. He blinks furiously, body screaming for relief, but all he sees is the dark, endless churn of the river. No warmth. No movement.

No Taehyung.

His heart lurches.

No. He was just there. He was just there.

Jungkook tries to move, to push himself toward where he last saw him, but his body doesn’t respond. His limbs are too numb, his muscles too weak. His chest tightens, his vision blackening at the edges as his body makes its final, pitiful plea for air.

A sob bubbles up in his throat, but it never escapes.

Because the river doesn’t care. The river only pulls him deeper.

Jungkook tries to turn, tries to reach, but the river is unrelenting. It hurls him forward, spins him violently, slamming him against something—rocks, debris, ice? He doesn’t know, doesn’t care, doesn’t have time to care. He can’t think, can’t fight—can’t breathe.

His chest is caving in, ribs tightening like a vice, lungs spasming in protest. His body is screaming for air, demanding it, but there is nothing but water. Water clawing down his throat, searing through his lungs, drowning him from the inside out.

I need air. I need air. I need—

The screams are louder now, closer. Urgent. Desperate. But the water muffles everything, turning their voices into a cruel, distant thing. His thoughts are slipping, floating away like debris in the current, growing slower, darker—

Then—hands.

Arms.

They come out of nowhere, crashing into him, seizing him with a grip so powerful it nearly knocks the last of his awareness from his body. Strong, desperate hands grab at his arms, his chest, his clothes, yanking him, pulling him hard.

Jungkook tries to respond, tries to move, but his body is failing him. His limbs won’t work. His mind is too foggy. His world is tilting, spinning, collapsing in on itself. The grip on him tightens, painful now, like iron shackles digging into his skin, like someone is afraid—terrified—to let go.

The hands don’t let go.

They won’t let go.

They pull him up, breaking through the suffocating grip of the river, dragging him toward the surface with a force so unrelenting, so desperate, it’s almost painful. The water fights back, clawing at his limbs, trying to wrench him away, but the grip on him is stronger. Stronger. The moment they breach the surface, Jungkook gasps—only for it to turn into a violent, heaving cough.

Water forces itself from his lungs, spilling from his mouth in choked, hacking sputters. His entire body spasms with the effort, each ragged breath feeling like fire tearing through his chest. He’s trembling, so cold that it feels like ice has settled into his bones, numbing him from the inside out.

His limbs are useless, heavy and unresponsive, his fingers barely able to twitch as they float limply in the raging current. He can't move. He can’t move. The only thing keeping him from being swallowed back into the river’s merciless depths is the hold around him—unyielding, iron-strong, as if the person clutching him refuses to let go even if it means drowning with him.

And then he smells it.

Cedarwood. Deep musk. Namjoon.

Alpha.

It crashes into him all at once, overwhelming in its potency, so strong it nearly makes his head spin. But something is wrong. It isn’t the usual warmth, the steady, grounding presence of the pack alpha. It isn’t calm. It isn’t safe. It’s sharp—jagged at the edges, suffocating in its intensity.

It smells like fear.

Like panic.

His ears are still ringing, the rush of water still too loud, but past the chaos, he hears it—a voice, raw and frantic, trembling with something barely held together. His mind is slow, sluggish, but it fights to catch up, fights to listen.

"Jungkook—Jungkook!"

Namjoon.

Jungkook blinks blearily, struggling to force his heavy eyelids open. His vision is blurred, dark at the edges, but when it clears, the sight that greets him nearly steals the breath from his already burning lungs.

Namjoon’s face is twisted in sheer, unrestrained terror.

Jungkook has never seen him like this before—never. The alpha’s crimson eyes are wide, blown out with panic, pupils pinpricks against the light. His mouth is moving rapidly, spilling words that Jungkook only now starts to comprehend, the words hitting him like punches to the chest.

"Hold onto me!—hold onto me pup! Do you hear me? Don’t you dare let go!”

The grip around him tightens, bordering on painful, crushing Jungkook against Namjoon’s soaked chest as if sheer force alone will be enough to keep him here, to keep him alive. There is nothing steady about the alpha right now—he is shaking, his scent sharp and erratic, flooding the air in uncontrolled waves. It’s like he’s unraveling, breaking apart right in front of Jungkook, and the realization sends a fresh wave of something unbearable crashing over him.

"I’ve got you—I swear I’ve got you, but you have to hold on, okay? Hold on, pup—please! ” Namjoon’s voice cracks, the words nearly breaking apart as they leave his lips, half-command, half-plea. "You're okay, you're okay—just—stay with me, Kook-ah, don’t slip, don’t you dare slip—"

Jungkook doesn’t have the strength to answer, doesn’t have the energy to do anything but feel—the crushing hold around him, the tremor in Namjoon’s breath, the way the alpha clings to him like he's trying to will his life back into his body. His fingers twitch weakly, barely managing to grip onto the fabric of Namjoon’s soaked clothes, but even that small movement is enough.

Namjoon feels it.

A sharp, broken sound rips from the alpha’s throat—a noise somewhere between a sob and a growl, so raw it sends a shudder through Jungkook’s already freezing body. And then Namjoon is pulling him even closer, so close that Jungkook can feel every tremor in his frame, every rapid, unsteady breath, as if he’s trying to fuse them together, as if making them one will keep Jungkook from slipping away.

And despite everything—the burning in his lungs, the cold sinking into his bones, the exhaustion weighing him down like lead—Jungkook finds himself gripping Namjoon back, even if it’s weak, even if it’s barely anything at all.

Because if Namjoon is holding onto him with everything he has—then Jungkook won’t let go either.

The river is still pulling at them, still dragging them along, but the worst of it has passed. The current is slowing, the violent thrashing easing into something sluggish, less vicious—but it still wants them. It still tugs at their limbs, trying to steal them away, trying to keep them in its freezing embrace.

Jungkook barely has the strength to hold on, but Namjoon won’t stop.

"Stay with me, pup—stay with me! " Namjoon’s voice is wrecked, raw with desperation, each word trembling with fear. His arms stay locked around Jungkook, fighting against the river’s grasp, dragging them both forward. He’s moving, pushing, his body straining with the effort to keep them above water, to get them to safety. The alpha’s breathing is harsh, uneven, coming in sharp, frantic bursts, but still, he fights. He fights because letting go isn’t an option.

And then—solid ground.

Jungkook doesn’t realize at first, too dazed, too frozen, too lost in the numbness seeping into his bones, but Namjoon has them. The alpha lurches forward, his hold tightening as he kicks, using the last of his strength to propel them toward the edge of the ice.

A voice pierces through the haze.

Not Namjoon’s—another.

Yoongi?

The sound is distant, almost muffled, like Jungkook is hearing it through layers of fog, but then Namjoon is screaming, his voice cutting through the roaring in Jungkook’s head like a desperate command to stay conscious.

“I've got him!!—I've got him!! Yoongi!!—Help me, get him out!! Please!! ”

Jungkook barely has the strength to move, barely has the energy to acknowledge anything beyond the crushing cold and the unbearable exhaustion pressing down on him. But he feels Namjoon shaking, feels the way the alpha clutches him tighter, unwilling to let go even as another pair of hands reach for him.

“Jungkook—pup, listen to me—listen!” Namjoon’s voice is thick, bordering on frantic, breaking apart at the edges. “Yoongi-hyung is here. He’s gonna get you out, okay?? He’s got you. Just—just hold on a little longer—please—”

Jungkook makes a small, broken noise—more of a whimper than anything else, his fingers barely managing to curl into Namjoon’s soaked clothes. He doesn’t want to let go. He can’t let go.

But then hands—steady, firm—are gripping him, prying him away from Namjoon’s hold, lifting him from the icy depths.

And then suddenly—he’s out.

The shift is disorienting. One moment, he’s submerged, surrounded by nothing but ice and water and fear, and the next, he’s being dragged up, hauled onto solid ice, his body collapsing onto a surface that doesn’t break beneath him.

The ice is stronger here. Thicker. It doesn’t crack beneath their weight. It doesn’t threaten to send them plunging back into the water’s grasp.

It holds them.

Before he can even register the bitter slap of cold air against his waterlogged skin, before his lungs can properly expand with the breath they so violently crave—he is pulled in. Strong arms wrap around him again, firm and unyielding, crushing him into the solid warmth of a body that trembles just as fiercely as his own.

The hold is desperate, almost frantic, like the arms around him are afraid to let go, as if even the smallest space between them will allow the river to reach out and steal him back. It’s overwhelming, suffocating in a way that is nothing like the river’s grasp—because this is warmth, this is life, this is Namjoon.

Jungkook barely has the strength to move, barely has the clarity to do anything but sag into the alpha’s embrace, but he can feel it. The way Namjoon is shaking—not from the cold, but from something deeper, something raw and terrifying.

His chest heaves, each breath sharp, uneven, breaking as if it hurts to inhale. There’s a wildness to his grip, fingers digging into Jungkook’s arms, his back, his soaked clothes—touching him, feeling him, proving that he’s here, that he’s not gone.

Namjoon is speaking. No—he hasn’t stopped speaking. The words pour from him, fast, urgent, as if stopping for even a second will let reality slip through his fingers. His voice is hoarse, thick with something heavy, something barely held together, and Jungkook can feel it in every syllable—the fear, the panic, the unbearable weight of almost losing him.

“Jungkook, pup—I’ve got you, I’ve got you—I swear—you’re okay, you’re safe—”

The words stumble, cracking on the edges, as if Namjoon himself is unraveling, his voice breaking over the weight of emotions too heavy to contain. The scent of fear clings to him, thick and suffocating, the sharp bite of it twisting something deep in Jungkook’s chest. It’s wrong—Namjoon isn’t supposed to smell like that. He isn’t supposed to sound like this.

Jungkook shudders violently, the cold still embedded deep within his bones, making his limbs feel foreign and heavy, unresponsive. The exhaustion weighs on him like an anchor, dragging him down, trying to pull him into darkness—but he can’t. He can’t slip away, can’t let himself be swallowed by the numbness creeping into his limbs, because Namjoon is here, and Namjoon is scared.

He needs to be closer.

Needs to feel the warmth of his hyung, needs the safety of his hold, needs Namjoon to be real, to be here, to not let go.

A sound—weak, broken—pushes past his lips. It’s barely more than a breath, but it’s all he can manage. He tries again, forcing more strength into his voice, pushing past the tightness in his throat, and it comes out as little more than a whisper, but it’s enough.

“H-hyung…”

“N-namjoon-hyung…”

The alpha freezes.

Then, a sharp inhale—quick, uneven, almost a sob.

“Shh, shh—I’m here,” Namjoon breathes, voice shaking. “I’m right here, pup, I’ve got you—I won’t let go.”

And then—Jungkook is lifted.

The alpha gathers him up, lifting him off the ice, cradling him close. His head lolls against Namjoon’s chest, too weak to hold it up, but it doesn’t matter. He’s safe—he’s in Namjoon’s arms, and that means he’s safe.

But then—Taehyung.

Jungkook’s breath stutters, his numb fingers twitching against Namjoon’s soaked clothes.

Where is he?

Where is Taehyung?

They were together. They had been holding hands. They had been fighting, clawing to stay together, to not lose each other in the current. But—

Jungkook’s chest seizes. His mind reels, the cold suddenly unbearable, crushing him from the inside out.

He had let go.

He had let him go.

A choked noise tears from his throat, panic surging through the numbness, cutting through the fog like a blade. His fingers weakly grasp at Namjoon’s clothes, gripping them as tightly as his frozen limbs allow. His breaths come in short, ragged bursts, his body trembling uncontrollably.

“Taehyung—”

The name barely makes it past his lips, but it carries all of his fear, all of his horror, all of his guilt.

He had let Taehyung go.

And now, he doesn’t know where he is.

Jungkook can barely feel his body anymore. The cold has stolen all the sensation from his limbs, and all he can focus on is the desperate, ragged breaths that keep tearing through his chest. The panic is overwhelming, suffocating. His body is shaking violently, his teeth chattering uncontrollably as he grips onto Namjoon’s clothes, his fingers slipping with each shudder.

The river's pull is a memory now, but the fear... the fear won’t let go. It claws at him, tightens its grip around his chest, and all he can think about is Taehyung.

He can barely remember the moment they were torn apart. One moment, his fingers were clutched tightly around Taehyung’s, and the next, the water had ripped them apart.

He’d lost him. He’d let go. He had to have let go—

He doesn’t know when, or how, but now he can feel it in every inch of his being, this gnawing emptiness where Taehyung should be. He can’t breathe, can’t think. He can only hear the way his own heart is pounding in his ears and the sound of Namjoon’s voice, frantic, desperate.

"Taehyung is okay Jungkook! Yoongi pulled him out! He’s safe. He’s safe," Namjoon’s voice is shaky, urgent, but Jungkook doesn’t believe him.

He can’t.

Because Taehyung isn’t here, and he’s too terrified to believe that the omega is really okay. His breath comes in ragged sobs, the tears spilling down his frozen face, as he keeps gripping Namjoon’s clothes harder, as if that will somehow hold him together.

"T-taehyung…,” he gasps, his voice breaking on the name. The world is spinning, his head is too heavy, too cold, but that one thought keeps pressing down on him. Taehyung… Taehyung...

Namjoon doesn’t stop, though, his hands tightening around Jungkook, pulling him closer, his body pressed so tightly against his own it feels like he’s holding him together.

"Jungkook, please... please listen to me! He’s on the bank. Yoongi got him out of the water, he’s safe. Please, just breathe, just breathe for me pup," Namjoon’s voice cracks, and Jungkook feels it deep in his bones, feels the terror in the alpha’s words, feels the frantic energy pouring from him, trying to force calm into him, but nothing works.

Nothing can stop the tremors shaking through Jungkook’s body, the spiraling panic that won’t let up.

Then, something in the air shifts. The voices are louder now, closer. Seokjin, Hoseok—they’re calling his name, and the sound of it is like a dagger to his chest. They’re here, they’re real, but even so, the terror claws at his throat, refuses to let go. He doesn’t want to let go of Namjoon.

He doesn’t want to be left alone again. The river is behind them now, but there’s still this gnawing, suffocating fear, this need to hear that Taehyung is truly okay. He has to hear it again.

"Joon—,” Seokjin’s voice cracks, raw with emotion, but Namjoon just growls, his hold on Jungkook tightening. The alpha’s face is drawn with panic, his own voice trembling as he continues to reassure Jungkook, but there’s something breaking in his words, something that tells Jungkook that maybe even Namjoon isn’t sure. Maybe even Namjoon is scared. But he can’t let go.

"Jungkook—please— just breathe, just hold on, hold on, we’re almost there, okay? We’re all here—" Namjoon’s voice breaks again, desperate, pleading, but Jungkook can’t do it. He can’t stop shaking, can’t stop the sobs that spill from him. He’s so scared. So scared.

And then, he hears it—just a whisper, a crack in the air, so weak he almost doesn’t believe it. But it’s there.

"Jungkookie..."

The sound of his name, soft, broken.

Taehyung.

It rips through him like a bolt of lightning, like something breaking wide open in his chest. His heart stutters, his breath catches in his throat, and all he can do is gasp, his voice hoarse as he calls back, the words slipping through his cracked lips despite the way his body shakes in Namjoon’s arms.

"Taehyung…"

Namjoon’s arms tighten around him, his own breath a shallow gasp as Jungkook feels himself break apart. But it’s Taehyung’s voice, and that’s all that matters. That’s the only thing Jungkook needs to hear. But his body is weak, trembling, so weak it’s hard to hold on. The cold, the fear—everything is too much. He can barely lift his head, barely manage to keep his eyes open, but he knows Taehyung is out there. He knows the omega is calling for him, and that’s all that matters now. He has to get to him.

"Taehyung is safe, pup...,” Namjoon is still talking, but Jungkook barely hears him. He can’t hear anything but Taehyung’s name, the faintest echo of the omega’s voice calling for him.

"Please… please, just hold on, keep taking deep breaths" Namjoon’s voice cracks with desperation, and Jungkook feels the heat of tears on the alpha’s face, knows that Namjoon is just as scared. Just as terrified.

And still, he holds him. Holds him tight, like if he lets go, Jungkook will slip through his fingers and fall back into the cold, wild current. And all Jungkook can think is Taehyung, the cold, empty ache where the omega should be, and the crushing, unrelenting fear that he’s not okay.

Namjoon’s arms leave him, and the sudden shift is dizzying. The ground beneath him feels too cold, too unsteady. His body is heavy with exhaustion, and his limbs feel like they belong to someone else, a disjointed weight that he can barely control. The moment he touches the snow, he doesn’t know whether it’s relief or dread that floods through him, because all he can focus on is the warmth of Namjoon’s arms leaving him—and the fear gnawing at his heart, fear that he might be losing Taehyung again.

But then, it’s there.

It comes like a wave, overwhelming, a smell of raspberries so sweet it almost feels like a dream. The scent is warm, but more than that, it’s familiar—it’s Taehyung. Before Jungkook can even breathe, he’s pulled into a tight embrace, a desperate, shaking hold that nearly knocks the air from his lungs.

The omega’s arms are weaker than they should be, trembling violently with cold and fear, but it doesn’t matter. It’s Taehyung holding him, pulling him close, and suddenly, the cold doesn’t feel so suffocating anymore.

"Jungkook...”

Taehyung’s voice is thick with emotion, so raw, so broken, that it tears through Jungkook’s chest like a knife. The words are barely a whisper, but they send a shiver down Jungkook’s spine. The omega is crying too. Jungkook can feel it—the way Taehyung’s breath catches, the shudder of his body against his own.

The sound of his sobs, so soft and fragile, breaks Jungkook apart. Taehyung is here. Taehyung is okay. The realization floods him, and then the tears come—uncontrollable, impossible to stop. His body is wracked with sobs, each one violent, each one carrying the weight of everything he’d almost lost. He’d almost lost Taehyung.

Taehyung doesn’t let him go. His hold tightens, pulls him even closer, as if to make sure that this is real, that he’s not slipping away again. The omega’s tears soak into Jungkook’s hair, his breath uneven and heavy, but still, he clings to him. "I’m here, pup... I’m here, it’s okay, it’s okay now...”

But it doesn’t stop. The tears keep coming, and Jungkook can’t breathe. He’s sobbing so hard his chest hurts, his throat burns, but he can’t stop. He clings to Taehyung just as tightly, just as desperately.

Then, warmth.

Someone drapes a coat over his shoulders, heavy and familiar, and it smells like Namjoon—wild cedarwood and deep musk. Namjoon’s scent wraps around him, grounding him in something solid, something he can hold on to when the world feels like it’s spinning out of control. Jungkook can’t focus on anything but the coat and Taehyung’s warmth, the way they’re holding him together, making him feel like he’s whole again.

But then, there’s a new presence. A new set of arms. They’re softer than Taehyung’s, smaller but just as desperate.

Jimin.

The omega is frantic, shaking with fear and emotion, and when he hugs Jungkook, it’s like he’s trying to hold the pieces of him together. His hands are trembling against Jungkook’s back, and he’s crying too—soft, broken sobs that make Jungkook’s heart twist in his chest.

Jimin’s voice cracks as he speaks, his words coming out between gasps for air. "Don’t you ever do that again, Jungkookie... Taehyungie... I couldn’t—” His voice breaks, and Jungkook feels the frantic need in the hug, feels how tightly Jimin is holding him, as though if he lets go, Jungkook will disappear. "I couldn’t bear it, I couldn’t lose you…”

Jungkook presses his face into Jimin’s shoulder, trying to steady his breathing, but the weight of the moment is too much. The words stick in his throat. He can’t say them. He can’t reassure Jimin, not when he doesn’t even know how to reassure himself. The world is still spinning, and the fear—the fear—is still clawing at him, tight and relentless.

Then, new voices . Yoongi. Hoseok. Both of them sound frantic, their voices sharp with urgency and fear.

"We need to get them home right now, Jungkook's lips are blue” Yoongi’s voice is low, commanding, but there’s an edge of desperation in it that makes Jungkook’s heart skip. Home. They’re going home. He clings to that thought like a lifeline, even though his mind is still clouded with panic.

He can feel Hoseok near, can feel the worry that rolls off of him in waves. The beta doesn’t even need to say anything to convey how scared he is. It’s in his every movement, in the way he hovers near them, ready to act, ready to help.

Jungkook’s heart is racing, his chest tight with panic, and before he even realizes what’s happening, he’s separated from Taehyung. It’s as if the world shifts too quickly, the ground too unsteady beneath him, and the feeling of Taehyung slipping away from him sends a shock of terror coursing through his veins. His breath catches in his throat, sharp and desperate.

His arms flail, weak but frantic, as he’s lifted into Namjoon’s arms. The world spins, his mind foggy with cold and fear. He can’t—he can’t be separated from Taehyung. Not again. Not after everything they just went through. His body thrashes against Namjoon’s hold, his hands weakly slapping at the alpha’s chest weakly, trying to push away. He doesn’t want to be carried away. He doesn’t want to leave Taehyung behind.

But Namjoon doesn’t let him go.

"Jungkook, calm down,” Namjoon’s voice is strained, low but firm, as he holds him tighter. There’s something broken in it, something raw. “Taehyung is right here. He’s right beside you, Jungkook. You’re safe. We’re going home. You’re both okay.”

The words are a steady hum, a mantra that Namjoon keeps repeating, over and over, as if trying to convince both Jungkook and himself. His grip is tight, so tight, and Jungkook can feel the urgency in the way Namjoon’s arms shake, the heat of his panic bleeding into the cold that clings to Jungkook’s skin.

But it doesn’t help.

Jungkook can’t breathe. He can’t stop shaking. He can’t lose Taehyung again. His fingers are numb, his limbs sluggish from the freezing cold, and yet he can’t control his body, can’t control the way his chest aches, the way his lungs burn for air that doesn’t feel real.

Hoseok’s voice cuts through the panic in his head, soft but frenzied. "We’re right here, Jungkook-ah. You’re safe. You're both safe." His words are meant to comfort, but they feel distant, like echoes in a dream. Hoseok is there, a warmth that’s only just tangible in the ice of the moment. Seokjin’s voice is next, higher, more frantic, as he calls out in desperation, telling him to breathe, to hold on. To not close his eyes. His voice cracks at the end, and it sends another spike of fear through Jungkook’s chest.

They’re all so scared.

But it’s Namjoon’s voice that keeps him tethered, keeps him from fully falling apart. Namjoon won’t stop talking, won’t let the silence settle between them. His words come faster, his voice more urgent. "You’re okay, pup, I’m not letting you go, okay? I won’t let go, I swear, just hold on a little longer." The words are strangled, panicked. The alpha’s breath is erratic, like he’s struggling to hold it together as much as Jungkook is.

Jungkook’s heart hammers in his chest. He’s slipping. He can feel himself fading. He's so cold. His thoughts are becoming a blur, his limbs heavy and numb, the cold seeping deep into his bones, making it harder to move, harder to think. But even as he struggles to stay conscious, there’s the quiet, terrifying truth in the back of his mind that makes everything feel far too fragile. What if he can’t make it?

Then Namjoon’s voice breaks through his fog again, louder, sharper this time. "He’s too cold! Look at him—his face is too pale. We need to get him out of here, now."

It hits like a punch to the gut. Jungkook can hear the raw panic in Namjoon’s voice. It’s there, sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. The alpha sounds frantic, his breathing uneven, ragged. And then, there’s the shift in Namjoon’s grip—he’s holding him tighter, moving faster, urgency fueling his every step.

Jungkook doesn’t know how much time has passed. Everything feels like it’s slipping away, but all he can hear is the chaos around him. Seokjin is shouting something, his voice cracking with fear. Hoseok’s arms are reaching out, his hands brushing against Jungkook’s body, trying to warm him, but it feels like they’re too far away, like everything is a blur of sound and motion.

Namjoon’s words blend together now, muffled, overlapping, but they’re still constant, still there. "We’re getting you home, Jungkook-ah. Just stay with me, okay? You’re going to be okay. You have to stay with me. Don't fall asleep."

Jungkook can’t respond. His throat is too tight, his body too heavy. His vision is fading at the edges, the icy cold slipping in, suffocating him. He feels himself weakening, feels the strength draining from his limbs with every passing second, but then—then there’s another voice. It’s Taehyung.

Taehyung’s voice, weak and trembling, breaks through the fog in his mind. "Jungkook…”

Jungkook’s chest tightens at the sound, and his heart flutters, but it’s not enough. He’s still fading. He can feel it, can feel the darkness creeping at the edges of his consciousness, but he clings to Taehyung’s voice like a lifeline. His body trembles harder. His head spins.

"Taehyung…” he whispers, though it’s barely more than a rasp.

He’s still falling, slipping away into the cold.

Jungkook can feel it—the growing emptiness inside him, the weight that pulls him deeper into the dark void of cold. His mind, once so frantic, now feels numb, his thoughts sluggish and disconnected. His body doesn’t respond the way it should.

His limbs are frozen, stiff, and unyielding, the cold seeping into his very bones. The voices around him, once so clear, now feel distant, muffled under layers of ice and fog. His breaths come shallow and slow, like they’re no longer his own.

He hears his hyungs, their voices cutting through the haze like desperate, broken sounds. Namjoon’s voice is the loudest, the most frantic. "Jungkook, please, stay awake!" His words are a plea, raw with fear and desperation. "Don’t close your eyes, you hear me? Don’t you dare close them! Stay with me, Jungkook. Stay with us… Please."

But it’s not enough. The world is so heavy, the weight of it pressing down on him. Every second feels like an eternity, and his body, so exhausted, begs for rest. His eyelids are too heavy, too tired.

Namjoon’s grip on him is unrelenting, but even that feels far away now. The warmth that was once there is fading, slipping between his fingers. Jungkook wants to hold on, wants to keep fighting, but he’s so tired.

The cold wraps around him like a suffocating shroud, and his body won’t obey anymore. It’s as if the darkness is calling to him, pulling him down into a place where nothing hurts anymore, where he doesn’t have to feel the fear and the panic gnawing at him.

"Jungkook... don’t you dare close your eyes!" Namjoon’s voice cracks, desperation bleeding through, but it’s not enough. Not enough to keep him from slipping further into the blackness that’s swallowing him whole. The alpha’s words are frantic, pleading, but the edges of Jungkook’s vision are already blurring, his body too weak to hold onto the thread of consciousness that keeps unraveling.

Around him, his hyungs are just as lost, just as terrified. Their voices are rising, overlapping in a chaos that only amplifies his panic. Seokjin, his voice trembling, curses under his breath, the sound ragged and broken. "Why isn’t he waking up? Why isn’t he responding?” His voice cracks again, and there’s a choked sob caught in his throat. He’s not even trying to hide it anymore. The fear is raw, and it’s spilling out of him, unraveling everything.

Hoseok’s voice follows, louder, more frantic. "He can’t fall asleep! He’s probably going into hypothermia!" There’s something desperate in his tone, like he’s trying to force a miracle out of the impossible. The words come fast, tumbling over each other, but the panic in his voice makes it clear—Hoseok is scared, scared like they all are, like they all can’t figure out how to keep him from slipping away.

Namjoon’s voice breaks through again, but now it’s more frantic than before, laced with an edge of horror. "Jungkook, please, please, just hold on! Don’t close your eyes baby! Stay with us! Stay with me!" His voice cracks as it fades into a broken whisper, as if all the air has left him. Jungkook’s hand, limp and unresponsive, hangs from Namjoon’s grip. The strength in the alpha’s hold falters, just for a moment, but it’s enough. Enough to make Jungkook feel the shift.

There’s a shift in the way the voices are speaking now. They’re talking amongst themselves, but it’s not in a way that reassures him. It’s as if they’re looking for something to cling to, a solution they don’t have. What if he doesn’t make it? What if he’s too far gone?

They don’t know how to keep him awake. They don’t know how to save him from this, from the suffocating cold that’s claiming him. His name is repeated in broken sobs, in frantic pleas for him to fight, to stay with them. But the words don’t make sense to him anymore. They’re just sounds, echoes in the void.

Jungkook can’t hear himself breathe. He’s suffocating in the cold, suffocating in the darkness that’s closing in on him. Namjoon’s voice is still there, still trying to pull him back, but it’s fading now, too. The warmth in his hyung’s arms is just a memory, slipping away like the last bits of light before a storm. Jungkook can feel his body growing colder, weaker, and the coldness is filling every part of him, until it feels like his very soul is frozen.

He hears Namjoon again, this time softer, quieter, his voice breaking as he murmurs his name over and over again. "Stay with me, baby. Please..."

But Jungkook can’t answer. His body won’t let him. His eyelids flutter, just once, just enough to feel the weight of them drag him under. And then, he hears it. The sound that cracks him open completely—the sound of crying. The sound of his hyungs, their voices shattered with fear, their sobs thick with the agony of not being able to save him.

Jimin is crying. Seokjin is crying. Hoseok is crying.

They’re all crying for him. For Taehyung. For both of them. And the tears, the raw, desperate sound of their voices, becomes the last thing Jungkook hears before everything goes black.

--

Jungkook’s eyes flutter open slowly, his lashes heavy with exhaustion. For a moment, his mind is blank, his body weightless. Then the sensations start to return—warmth, so much warmth, a stark contrast to the suffocating cold that had swallowed him whole before. There’s water around him, cradling him in its gentle embrace, and for a split second, panic surges through his chest like a violent wave.

Water.

He’s in the water again. He can’t breathe. He can’t move. His body tenses, fear gripping him before he can even understand what’s happening.

Then, a voice—soft, hoarse, familiar. "Jungkookie."

The way his name is spoken is enough to make his breath hitch. He knows that voice. That warmth. That scent.

Taehyung.

Jungkook feels the arms around him then, firm yet trembling, wrapped tightly across his chest, holding him in place. His body is pressed against someone else’s—warm, solid, safe. Taehyung is behind him, his presence a grounding force against the remnants of cold that still cling to Jungkook’s skin. The omega’s hold is desperate, unrelenting, as if he’s afraid that if he loosens his grip for even a second, Jungkook will slip away again.

"You’re safe," Taehyung whispers, his voice weak and uneven, still thick with the exhaustion of everything they’ve been through. "We’re home, Kookie. You’re safe. It’s just the bathtub. We’re warming up. You’re okay."

Jungkook blinks sluggishly, his head lolling slightly as he tries to process the words. Home. They made it home. He lets out a shaky breath, the tension in his body unraveling, though the panic still lingers like an afterimage.

Only then does he register that both of them are still clothed, their soaked layers clinging uncomfortably to their skin. It tells him just how desperate their hyungs must have been—how they hadn’t even wasted a second, hadn’t dared to risk removing their clothes before submerging them in the warm water.

They must have been so afraid. He can still hear it in Taehyung’s voice, the way it wavers, the way his arms tighten just a little more, like he’s making sure Jungkook is real, that he’s still breathing.

Jungkook wants to say something, to reassure Taehyung just as much as he’s reassuring him. But the exhaustion is too much, dragging him down once more.

His body is too weak, his eyelids too heavy. The warmth around him, the steady rhythm of Taehyung’s heartbeat against his back, lulls him into something deeper, something safer. His breathing slows, his limbs going slack as his body finally surrenders to the comfort of the moment.

He sags against Taehyung, his last thread of consciousness slipping away, but he doesn’t fight it this time.

He knows he’s safe.

He knows that Taehyung will hold him, will keep him here, will never let him go.

So Jungkook lets himself sleep.

Notes:

Hey guys!! ✨

TaeKook are safe!! 💙 Sorry for putting them through all of that, but hey, it's all for character development. (Totally not me just indulging in my love for angst and protective, desperate hyungs… 👀). But don’t worry, I'm only here for the kind of angst that comes with a happy ending! 😌💕 And honestly, the comfort scenes that follow? I live for them.

P.S: Completely unrelated, but I’ve been obsessed with Biblical Love by Flower Face lately, and it’s sooo good. 😭 Also, Deer Hunter by &Team—totally different vibe, but I love it just as much! Just felt like sharing because, you know… sharing is caring. 😆💖

Hope you all have an amazing weekend!! 🥰✨

Chapter 36: Tears and Tenderness

Summary:

Jungkook wakes up after the river incident

Jungkook stirs, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him like a heavy blanket, his limbs sluggish and unwilling to move. His mind is hazy, still caught in the remnants of sleep, but the warmth surrounding him is familiar, grounding. It’s comforting—steady and unshifting—but something feels off. 

A tremor runs through the air, subtle at first, barely noticeable, but as his awareness slowly sharpens, he begins to register it more clearly. There’s movement behind him. 

Small, shivering movements. 

Someone is shaking.

It filters into his senses gradually, creeping through the fog of sleep like a slow trickle of ice-cold water. His breathing evens out, the last dregs of unconsciousness slipping away, but before he can fully process what’s wrong, he hears it. The sound slices through the quiet like a blade, sharp and jagged, cutting through his drowsiness with brutal efficiency.

Someone is crying.

Not loudly. Not in the way that grief wails or panic claws. This is different—quieter, smaller. It’s the kind of crying that comes from trying not to cry, from pressing a fist against trembling lips and swallowing down the sounds until they turn into something fractured and breathless. 

Short, uneven gasps, muffled sniffles, the quiet, wet sound of someone biting back their sobs—like they’re afraid to be heard, afraid to be too much. It’s the kind of crying that makes Jungkook’s stomach clench with unease. That makes his heart ache in ways he doesn’t understand.

His body tenses instinctively, a ripple of confusion and worry pushing through the lingering grogginess. Who’s crying? What’s happening? His thoughts are sluggish, still piecing themselves together as he blinks against the darkness, trying to reorient himself. He listens harder, focuses past the slow thump of his own heart, and then—

He hears it.

A choked sob. Small, raw, strained—as if whoever is crying has finally lost the fight to keep it in. The sound wrecks him. It steals the breath from his lungs, leaves his chest tight with something sharp and aching.

 He knows that voice. Knows that scent.

Taehyung.

But—it smells wrong.

The familiar warmth of raspberries, usually rich and soothing, is twisted—distorted by distress, thick with unease. It clings to the air, oppressive in its sharpness, making Jungkook’s stomach turn. The scent of sadness and fear, of something too heavy, too overwhelming, fills the space between them, wrapping around him like invisible tendrils, suffocating in its intensity. It seeps into his lungs, settles deep in his bones, a silent cry for help that no words could ever express.

Jungkook can’t have that.

He moves on instinct, his body still sluggish with sleep, fingers twitching against the arm draped around his waist. The warmth of it is familiar, a presence he’s used to, but something about it feels wrong.

 It isn’t loose or relaxed—it’s tense, rigid with an unspoken desperation. His brow furrows, a thread of unease pulling taut inside his chest, and he shifts, trying to turn—to see, to reach—but the moment he moves, Taehyung’s grip tightens.

It’s not a small adjustment. Not the natural tightening of arms curling sleepily around him. It’s something else—firmer, stronger, unrelenting. It locks Jungkook in place, an iron band around his ribs, pressing just a little too hard, holding just a little too tight.

Jungkook stills.

The weight of the hold settles over him like a physical thing, pressing into his chest, making his breath feel thin, too shallow. His heart stumbles over itself, a flicker of uncertainty sending an uneasy shiver down his spine. Taehyung doesn’t want him to move. Doesn’t want him to see.

The realization coils in Jungkook’s stomach, a slow, creeping dread curling around his ribs like icy fingers.

Why?

Why won’t Taehyung let him turn around?

The question sends another wave of unease washing through him, something sharp and cold lodging itself in his throat. His senses sharpen, pulling him further from the remnants of sleep, making him hyperaware of every little detail—the way Taehyung’s breathing is unsteady against his back, the way his frame is shaking so hard that Jungkook can feel it, how the omega’s scent—usually warm, rich with sun-drenched raspberries—is wrong.

It’s thick with distress, sharp with sorrow, laced with something fractured. The scent of something shattered.

Jungkook swallows hard, his pulse hammering. He doesn’t like this. He doesn’t like that he can’t see Taehyung’s face, that he can’t reach for him, can’t wipe away his tears. He doesn’t like the way the trembling isn’t stopping, isn’t easing, isn’t letting up—not even a little.

He doesn’t like that Taehyung is hurting, and he doesn’t know why.

His throat feels tight when he finally speaks, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Hyung,” he breathes, hoarse, unsteady. “Let me see you.”

There’s no answer. No shift, no loosening of the grip around him. Just the slight shake of Taehyung’s head against his back, a small movement, but one that speaks volumes.

Jungkook’s heart clenches.

The arms around him tighten further, pulling him closer—closer—as if letting go would mean losing something precious, as if the moment Taehyung releases him, something will slip away, something will break.

His fear spikes.

“Taehyungie-hyung, please,” he tries again, this time with more urgency, his voice trembling along with the omega’s body. “Please, look at me.”

Another muffled sob. Another tremor that wracks through Taehyung’s frame, pressing against Jungkook’s back in waves.

He feels helpless.

Helpless in a way he hates, in a way that makes his chest ache and his stomach churn. He doesn’t know what to do, how to fix this, how to reach Taehyung when the omega won’t let him. All he knows—all he’s certain of—is that he needs to see him. Needs to stop his tears. Needs to make it better.

But Taehyung won’t let go.

And that terrifies Jungkook the most.

His breath stutters, panic curling tighter, sharper. He tries to move again, tries to pry himself free from the suffocating grip, but Taehyung only holds on harder, arms locked around him, unwilling—desperate.

It’s too much.

It’s too much.

Jungkook doesn’t know what’s wrong, doesn’t know why Taehyung is clinging to him like this, why he’s holding on as if Jungkook is the only thing keeping him together.

But he does know one thing—

He can’t just lie here and do nothing.

"Taehyungie," Jungkook whispers, voice raw, shaking with something more than just exhaustion. Something fragile. Something pleading. His throat is tight, each word dragging itself from his lips like it physically pains him. "Please, let me see you. I need to see you, Please hyung."

Nothing.

Just the sound of Taehyung’s breathing, shallow and unsteady. The way his body quakes behind him, tremors wracking his frame like he’s barely holding himself together. The silence stretches, thick and suffocating, wrapping around Jungkook’s ribs like a vice, squeezing tighter, tighter. He feels it pressing against his chest, cold and heavy, stealing the breath from his lungs.

His heart clenches, something sharp twisting in his gut.

"Taehyungie, please—" Jungkook swallows hard, his voice breaking, trembling with something dangerously close to fear. "I'm scared hyung."

That does it.

The moment the words leave his lips, Taehyung stiffens behind him. His breath hitches, the arms caging Jungkook in suddenly faltering, loosening just enough. And then—finally, finally—his grip slips away.

Jungkook doesn’t waste a second.

He turns sharply, twisting in Taehyung’s hold, desperate to see him, to understand—but the moment his eyes land on him, the air rips from his lungs in a sharp, painful gasp.

Taehyung won’t look at him.

His face is turned away, his head bowed, wet strands of hair clinging to his forehead, shrouding his expression in shadow. But it doesn’t hide everything. It doesn’t hide the trembling of his lips, the way his chest heaves with uneven, ragged breaths, the fresh stream of tears slipping, unchecked, down his pale cheeks.

The sight is devastating.

"Taehyung," Jungkook breathes, his hands twitching, reaching without thinking. His fingers hover hesitantly over Taehyung’s arms before moving higher, brushing over his shoulders, then his cheeks, cold and damp beneath his touch. "Hyung, look at me."

Taehyung doesn’t.

He stays curled inward, his fingers digging into Jungkook’s waist, clinging—not in desperation this time, but in fear. Like letting go means losing something vital. Like keeping Jungkook close is the only thing tethering him to reality. But he’s shaking so badly, his breath so uneven, that Jungkook starts to panic.

"Are you hurt?" Jungkook asks urgently, his own voice trembling now. He cups Taehyung’s face, tilting it up, gently, carefully, desperate to meet his eyes, to see him. "Taehyung, do you need the hyungs? I can get them, I—"

The growl comes so fast that it makes Jungkook flinch.

A deep, guttural sound—low, warning, desperate.

Taehyung’s grip tightens around him suddenly, his fingers curling against Jungkook’s back, locking him in place. His entire body stiffens, the growl vibrating in his chest as his scent spikes—still wrong, still twisted with distress—but now laced with something else. Sadness. Fear. Refusal.

Jungkook swallows hard, wide eyes staring up at Taehyung in shock.

The message is clear.

Don’t go.

Don’t leave.

Jungkook feels his stomach drop, the weight of Taehyung’s anguish pressing down on him like a physical force. He doesn’t understand, doesn’t know why Taehyung is reacting like this, but the look in his eyes—the raw, shattered, broken look—makes Jungkook stay still.

Because Taehyung doesn’t just want him to stay.

He needs him to.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how to make it better, how to ease the silent, gut-wrenching sobs that shake through Taehyung’s body. He doesn’t know how to stop the tears from carving paths down his pale cheeks.

But he wants to. He needs to. Because the sight of Taehyung like this—broken, trembling, curled in on himself like he’s trying to make himself smaller—it hurts.

So Jungkook does the only thing he can do.

He reaches forward and pulls Taehyung tighter into his arms.

He holds him tight, as tight as he can, like he can physically piece him back together, like he can shield him from whatever pain is clawing at his chest. He feels the way Taehyung crumbles against him, the way his hands fist into the fabric of his clothes, gripping at him like he’s the only thing keeping him steady.

And maybe he is.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, his own breath shaking as he presses his face against Taehyung’s hair. The scent of raspberries is thick around him, usually warm and sweet, but now twisted, wrong. Suffocating. It reeks of distress, of something raw and painful and aching. The scent is so heavy in the air that Jungkook feels it coil inside his chest, making his own body go taut with anxiety.

He hates it.

"Tae," he whispers, voice barely more than a breath, "please tell me what’s wrong. "

Taehyung doesn’t answer. He doesn’t lift his head, doesn’t move, doesn’t even breathe in a way that feels natural. He stays curled into Jungkook, small despite his height, shrunken in on himself like the weight of his own sorrow is pressing him down, keeping him from shifting even an inch.

But then, slowly, Jungkook feels it.

The smallest shift of movement. The faintest pull of air against his skin. A trembling inhale, shaky and uneven but deep. Then another. And another.

Jungkook stills, confusion flickering in the haze of his concern—until he realizes.

Taehyung isn’t just breathing.

He’s breathing him in.

Jungkook swallows, his throat suddenly tight. The omega’s nose is pressed against the crook of his neck, his inhales unsteady but deliberate, dragging in the scent that clings to Jungkook’s skin, his clothes, his hair. He’s scenting him. Grounding himself.

As if reassuring himself that Jungkook is here. That Jungkook is real.

A sharp pang of something tender—something aching—pulls deep in Jungkook’s chest. His arms tighten around Taehyung instinctively, fingers curling into the fabric of his sleep clothes, holding him closer, as if that will be enough to steady him. As if that will be enough to fix this.

"I’m here, hyung," he murmurs, voice soft, low, as if whispering the words will make them more true. He presses his lips to Taehyung’s hair, not quite a kiss, just a touch, a reassurance. "I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere."

And for the first time since Jungkook opened his eyes, Taehyung’s sobs stutter. Not stopping completely, not fading entirely, but slowing just enough.

Like he believes him.

Jungkook doesn’t move.

He doesn’t shift, doesn’t breathe too deeply, doesn’t do anything that might break this fragile moment. He just lets Taehyung press in close, lets him keep his face buried against his throat, lets the omega take whatever it is that he needs.

Because that’s what matters.

Not Jungkook’s own trembling, not the way his body still aches from the cold, not the bone-deep exhaustion weighing down his limbs.

None of that matters.

Only Taehyung does.

So Jungkook stays still. He lets Taehyung scent him as much as he needs, lets him breathe him in with those deep, shuddering inhales that still shake a little too much. He waits, patiently, as the omega gradually finds some semblance of control over his own breathing, as the tension in his frame loosens just slightly.

And then—

"I’m so sorry," Taehyung suddenly chokes out, voice so raw and broken that it makes Jungkook stiffen in his arms.

He doesn’t lift his head, doesn’t let Jungkook see his face, just curls in tighter against him like the words physically hurt to say. His fingers twist into Jungkook’s soaked clothes, gripping so tightly that his knuckles must ache, but his hands won’t stop shaking.

"I should have never accepted your help," he whispers, voice cracking under the weight of his guilt. "I should have never let you step even one foot onto that ice. I—" His breath shudders out of him, another broken sob slipping past his lips. "I can’t—I won’t ever be able to live with myself, knowing I put you in danger. Knowing that I let my baby—" His voice breaks completely then, and the rest of his words dissolve into strangled, heart-wrenching cries.

Jungkook can’t have that.

"Tae, no," he says immediately, voice firm despite the tremor in it. "Don’t say that. Don’t think like that."

Taehyung shakes his head against him, frantic, as if trying to deny the very idea of Jungkook absolving him of this. But Jungkook won’t let him.

"It was all my fault, I wanted to help, I was afraid to let you go on your own." he insists, tightening his grip on Taehyung like he can somehow make the omega feel the truth in his words. "I chose to go with you, Tae. You didn’t force me. I would have never let you go alone." His breath stutters, something thick and heavy clogging his throat as the weight of what almost happened crashes over him all at once. "I would have rather died than let you go out onto that ice alone."

Taehyung flinches.

It’s not just a shudder or a slight recoil—it’s a full-body jerk, like Jungkook’s words have struck him with the force of a physical blow, knocking the breath from his lungs. His fingers twitch where they’re still tangled in Jungkook’s clothes, his entire frame going rigid as if bracing for impact.

“Don’t say that,” he gasps, his voice thin, frayed at the edges, barely holding itself together. There’s something wild in his eyes now, something terrified, as if Jungkook has just told him the worst thing he could possibly imagine. “Don’t you ever say that—”

“It’s true,” Jungkook interrupts, the words spilling out before he can stop them. There’s no hesitation, no softness—just raw desperation, sharp and aching. “It’s true, hyung. I was scared but I don’t care what would’ve happened to me, as long as you—” His breath catches, his chest tightening with a pain so deep it steals the words from his throat. He swallows hard, trying to force them out, but the mere thought—just the thought—of Taehyung alone, slipping beneath that ice, disappearing—

His whole body shudders.

“As long as you were okay,” he manages, voice barely more than a breath. “I wouldn’t—”

His voice cracks.

And suddenly, he can’t do it. He can’t push the words past the knot in his throat, can’t keep the emotions from rising, from spilling over, from clawing their way out of him in trembling breaths and burning eyes. Because it’s too much. The cold, the fear, the helplessness—watching Taehyung fall, the sheer horror of almost not making it. The knowledge that, if things had gone just slightly differently, if Namjoon had been just a second too slow—

He clenches his jaw, his fingers digging into Taehyung’s back as if anchoring himself to the warmth of him, to the solid, undeniable proof that he’s here. That they made it. That Taehyung is alive.

“I would rather drown a thousand times over than live in a world without you,” he breathes, the words slipping out in a hoarse, unsteady whisper, stripped down to the most vulnerable truth of him. “Don’t you get that?”

Taehyung lets out a choked sob.

And then—he breaks.

His whole body crumples in on itself, shaking with the force of his grief, of his relief, of something too overwhelming to hold back any longer. His hands fist into Jungkook’s clothes like he’s afraid to let go, like he needs to hold on or else he’ll lose himself completely. The sobs wrack through him, no longer muffled, no longer held back, raw and unrestrained as they claw their way out of his chest.

And then—suddenly—he snaps.

"No," Taehyung cries, voice rising in sheer frustration, in grief, in something so deep and visceral that it shakes Jungkook to his very core. "No, Jungkook! You don’t ever—don’t ever say something like that! Don’t even think it!" His hands tremble against Jungkook’s back, clutching at him like he’s trying to anchor him, like he’s terrified he’ll slip away again if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. 

"You don’t get to say that! You don’t get to—" His breath hitches, strangled and desperate. "You don’t get to talk about dying like it’s nothing! Like it wouldn’t—" He chokes on a sob, shoulders heaving. "Like it wouldn’t destroy me."

Jungkook flinches, eyes burning, because he didn’t mean it like that—didn’t mean to make Taehyung hurt more. He only wanted him to understand, to know that he would never have let him go alone.

But Taehyung isn’t listening.

"You almost died," the omega continues, voice breaking around the words. "Because of me. Because I was stupid. Because I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve never let you come with me. I should’ve protected you, should’ve—"

"Hyung, stop," Jungkook cuts in, desperate, shaking his head even as Taehyung refuses to look at him. "Don’t say that. Don’t blame yourself."

"How can I not?" Taehyung snaps, voice cracking under the weight of it all. "How can I not blame myself, Kook-ah? You wouldn’t have been on that ice if it weren’t for me! You wouldn’t have fallen in, you wouldn’t have—" His breath stutters again, another sob wracking through his chest. "You almost—fuck, you almost—"

"And I would do it again," Jungkook says, fierce and unyielding. "A thousand times over, I would do it again. I would follow you anywhere, hyung. Because I had to be with you. Because I couldn’t let you go alone!"

Taehyung finally looks up at him then, eyes wide and soaked with tears, lips trembling as more spill over his lashes. His hands come up, shaking, one tangling into Jungkook’s hair, gripping him, while the other slides firmly around his back. The hold is tight, desperate, protective in a way that makes Jungkook’s chest ache.

"We’re supposed to protect you," Taehyung whispers, voice thick and fragile, forehead pressing against Jungkook’s. "You’re our baby, Kookie. You’re supposed to be safe. We’re supposed to keep you safe,  always."

Jungkook swallows hard, throat tight, vision blurring as Taehyung holds onto him like he’ll never let go. The omega is still crying, still trembling, still breaking apart in his arms, and Jungkook doesn’t know how to fix it.

So he just holds him back.

Clings to him just as tightly.

"Then don’t ever leave me alone," Jungkook whispers back, voice barely more than a breath. "Stay with me. Always."

Taehyung sobs again, wrecked and broken.

"Always," he promises.

Taehyung can’t seem to stop shaking. His entire body quivers, his breaths ragged and shallow as they spill from his lips in rapid succession. His hands clutch at Jungkook like he’s trying to keep him there, like he’s scared that if he lets go even for a second, Jungkook will slip through his fingers again. 

His grip is almost painful in its desperation, his nails digging into the fabric of Jungkook’s damp clothes, his fingers curling so tightly around him that his knuckles turn white.

And then he breaks.

"I can’t forgive myself," Taehyung gasps, voice cracking, hoarse and raw from crying. His chest rises and falls in frantic, uneven rhythms, his whole body trembling against Jungkook’s. "I—I let go. I let go of you, pup, and I tried, I swear I tried—" His voice stutters on a sob, his hands tightening around Jungkook’s back, as if to make up for all the times he hadn’t been able to hold on. "I was holding on as much as I could, I was gripping you so tight, I—I didn’t want to let go, I never wanted to let go—"

Jungkook feels something heavy, something horrible settle deep in his chest. He’s never seen Taehyung like this before. And it’s all because of him. Because of what happened. It’s all his fault.

Taehyung swallows thickly, another broken breath tearing from his throat. "One second you were there, you were with me, and the next I—" He cuts himself off with a choked, devastated noise, his body shuddering. "I only had your glove."

Jungkook stills, barely breathing.

"Your glove…" Taehyung’s voice shakes, so thin and frantic that it sounds like it hurts. "I looked, and—and you were just gone. And all I had left was your glove in my hand." His grip tightens around Jungkook’s shoulders as if to prove to himself that this is real, that Jungkook is here, alive and warm in his arms. 

"Do you have any idea what that felt like?" Taehyung cries, voice rising. "Do you know how it felt to be ripped away from you? To know you were so close and I couldn’t—" He shudders, the words catching in his throat. "I couldn’t even see you, Kookie. I couldn’t reach you, I couldn’t do anything."

Jungkook feels his own breath hitch, something thick clogging his throat.

Taehyung is still speaking, the words spilling out like a flood he can’t hold back, his voice laced with so much guilt, so much anger—not at Jungkook, but at himself. "When I came back up, Yoongi-hyung—" He swallows, the memory too vivid, too raw. "He grabbed me. I barely even registered what was happening. One second I was reaching for you, and the next—" His breath stutters. "The next I was being pulled away. Away from the water, away from you."

Jungkook shakes his head. "Tae—"

"I should have fought harder!" Taehyung cuts him off, his voice breaking. "I should have—I don’t know, done something! I should have never let you go in the first place, I should have held on better! I should have—" His words dissolve into another choked sob, his body wracked with tremors as he buries his face in Jungkook’s shoulder. "I should have saved you."

Jungkook can’t take it anymore. He can’t let Taehyung do this to himself, can’t let him drown in his own guilt when he had done everything he could. When all of this happened simply because he had let Taehyung step onto that ice.

So he grips Taehyung’s face in his hands, forcing the omega to look at him.

"Tae," he says firmly, voice shaking with the weight of everything he feels. "You did save me."

But Taehyung shakes his head, hard, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as he grips Jungkook’s arms like a lifeline. His eyes are wild, glossy with tears that refuse to stop falling, his lips trembling with every word that spills from them.

"No," he chokes out, voice raw with emotion. "I didn’t save you, Jungkook. I—" He swallows, his whole body shuddering. "I fought Yoongi-hyung. I—I fought him because I had to go back, I had to go after you—" His breath hitches violently, his entire frame trembling against Jungkook’s. "I looked at the river, and I—" He cuts himself off with a sharp, pained gasp, squeezing his eyes shut as more tears streak down his cheeks. "I couldn’t see you."

Jungkook stills.

Taehyung’s fingers dig into his arms, his grip tightening like he’s afraid Jungkook might disappear. "I looked everywhere," he cries, voice rising with panic as if he’s reliving the moment all over again. "I scanned the water, I searched, I—I couldn’t find you, and Jungkook—" His voice breaks, and so does he. 

"The thought of you being somewhere underneath, not able to breathe, not able to call for help—" He shudders, his face twisting in anguish. "The thought of you drowning, because of me— because I allowed you to step on the ice, because I didn’t hold on tight enough—"

His breathing stutters, uneven and shallow, his entire body curling inward like he’s trying to make himself smaller, like he can’t take the weight of his own guilt. "It was unbearable," he gasps, tears falling freely, his chest rising and falling in rapid, panicked motions. "I couldn’t— I can’t—" His words break apart, dissolving into something closer to a sob, his entire body trembling violently. "Yoongi-hyung pulled me out, and I—I didn’t understand why. Why was I out? Why wasn’t it you?"

Jungkook’s heart aches.

"I screamed your name," Taehyung continues, voice cracking under the weight of his hysteria. "I screamed for you, over and over, but you wouldn’t answer. You didn’t—" His voice hitches, and then he’s sobbing, his entire body curling in on itself as he grips Jungkook like he’s the only thing anchoring him to reality. "You wouldn’t answer me, Jungkook. You were gone, and I—I thought—" He breaks off with a sharp, gasping breath, squeezing his eyes shut as if trying to block out the memory. "I thought I lost you."

"Tae," Jungkook breathes, his own throat thick with emotion.

"I thought I lost you," Taehyung whispers again, voice so small, so wrecked, like he’s admitting to something unforgivable.

Jungkook can’t take it anymore.

"No," he says, firm and unwavering, reaching up to cup Taehyung’s tear-streaked face. The omega flinches slightly, like he doesn’t deserve Jungkook’s touch, but Jungkook doesn’t let him pull away. He holds him there, forcing Taehyung to meet his gaze, to see him. "Listen to me, hyung," he says, voice shaking but strong. "You didn’t do anything wrong."

Taehyung whimpers, shaking his head, but Jungkook doesn’t let him fall further into his guilt.

"You fought for me, Tae. You screamed for me. You never stopped looking for me." He swallows past the lump in his throat, blinking back his own tears. "You did everything you could. Everything." He tightens his grip on Taehyung, his thumbs brushing away the tears that keep spilling down the omega’s cheeks. "You saved me, Taehyung. You saved me."

Taehyung lets out a broken sob, his body collapsing forward into Jungkook’s arms. "Then why does it still feels like I lost you?" he whispers, voice so shattered that it makes Jungkook’s heart hurt.

Jungkook shakes his head, his own breath coming out in shuddering gasps as he holds Taehyung impossibly closer. His heart is hammering against his ribs, aching with the sheer intensity of emotions crashing over him like violent waves. He can’t stand to see Taehyung like this—shaking, crying, blaming himself for something that wasn’t his fault.

"No, Taehyungie-hyung, listen to me," he says, his voice hoarse, raw with desperation. "I’m here. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere now. You didn’t lose me, okay? You didn’t."

Taehyung sobs, curling in tighter, as if trying to merge himself into Jungkook. His fingers clutch at Jungkook’s clothes, his grip unrelenting, as if letting go even a little would make Jungkook slip through his fingers all over again.

Jungkook takes a shaking breath, pressing his forehead against Taehyung’s, his own body trembling from the weight of everything. "You’re not the only one who feels guilty, hyung," he admits, voice thick, unsteady. "I was supposed to hold your hand. I should have held on tighter. But I—" His breath catches, his fingers digging into the fabric of Taehyung’s shirt as his eyes squeeze shut. "I couldn’t."

Taehyung lets out a soft, pained sound, like the words physically hurt him.

"Maybe it was my fault," Jungkook continues, and the words burn as they leave him. "Maybe the ice broke because I was moving too much. Maybe if I had just been more careful—"

"No," Taehyung gasps, but Jungkook doesn’t stop.

"The whole time I was underwater, I was thinking of you," Jungkook confesses, his voice breaking. "The only thing I could think about was you. That I had let you go. That you were somewhere in the water too. That I had to find you, that I had to—"

His voice cracks, and he sucks in a trembling breath, his chest heaving. His fingers tangle in Taehyung’s hair, gripping as if to ground himself. "I thought I lost you too, hyung. I thought I’d never see you again."

A broken sob rips from Taehyung’s throat, and Jungkook hates it. He hates this pain, this guilt, this fear clawing at them like sharp, unforgiving teeth.

"And when Namjoon-hyung pulled me out—" His voice wavers, but he forces himself to keep going. "My first thought was you. Where you were, if you were okay. I didn’t even care about myself, Tae. I was just so scared. So, so scared that I had lost you."

Taehyung whimpers, his hands clutching at Jungkook with renewed desperation, his entire body trembling.

"I don’t want to be separated from you again," Jungkook whispers, his voice barely above a breath but carrying the full weight of his emotions. "I can’t—" His hands slide to cradle Taehyung’s face, his thumbs wiping away the fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. "I won’t let it happen again."

The weight of their words hangs thick in the air, the room heavy with everything they’ve been holding inside. Taehyung is still crying, still shaking, but his grip on Jungkook never wavers—just as Jungkook’s grip on him never will.

Taehyung’s grip tightens even further, like he’s trying to fuse their bodies together, as if there’s nothing more vital than having Jungkook right here, pressed against him, safe in his arms. His hands are trembling, almost shaking with a desperate need that Jungkook can feel deep in his bones. His eyes, clouded with desperation and fear, burn with an intensity that seems to speak to a deeper part of Jungkook’s soul. 

The air between them is thick with unspoken words, suffocating in its weight, and all Jungkook can hear is the frantic, uneven beat of Taehyung’s heart against his chest. The omega’s breath is harsh, as if he’s fighting for control.

Jungkook’s pulse quickens as he watches Taehyung, feeling that burning intensity radiating from the omega. The words Taehyung speaks next are almost a growl, but the emotion behind them is so raw, so desperate, it makes Jungkook’s chest ache. "I need to make sure you're safe, pup." 

Taehyung’s voice cracks, thick with fear and something deeper, something primal that sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine. "You need to smell like me. You need to know that you’re mine. That you’re here, with me. That I won’t lose you again. Please… Let me make sure you’re safe, please."

Jungkook’s breath hitches at the weight of Taehyung’s plea, and the tears that still cling to his face, the cold sweat on his skin, only deepen the ache in his chest. He can feel the frantic energy in Taehyung’s hands as they drag across his body, searching for something, for him—something to hold onto, to make sure he’s real, to mark him and make sure no one, not even fate, can ever take him away. 

Jungkook knows what Taehyung needs. Knows it in the deepest parts of his soul. He understands this need that they share, the burning desire to be one, to be bound together in a way that no one can tear apart.

"Tae, please," Jungkook’s voice trembles as he reaches up, pulling Taehyung closer, their faces mere inches apart, his breath mingling with Taehyung’s. "I need you. I need you to scent me. Please. Please… make me smell like you, please hyung. »

The words burn through Jungkook’s chest, and for a moment, it feels like the world stops. His desperation mirrors Taehyung’s, each word wrapping around his heart like a vice, making it hard to breathe, hard to think beyond the overwhelming weight of this moment.

 It consumes him—this need, this fear, this ache that stretches between them like something tangible. The air is thick with it, charged with something so raw and primal that Jungkook feels like he might come undone if Taehyung so much as pulls away. But he won’t. He knows he won’t. Because Taehyung feels it too.

Jungkook tilts his head instinctively, exposing the vulnerable curve of his neck, his pulse thrumming wildly beneath his skin. His breaths come fast and shallow, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to. Taehyung can see it—the silent plea in his eyes, the desperate longing, the way his body trembles with anticipation. 

He wants this. 

Needs this.

 Needs Taehyung to take away the lingering fear, to ground him in something unshakable. He needs to be marked, to feel Taehyung’s scent wrapped around him like a shield. Because he can’t be without him. Not now. Not after everything.

Taehyung exhales sharply, his breath warm against Jungkook’s skin, his entire body shuddering as he leans in. The moment his lips brush against the crook of Jungkook’s neck, a sharp tremor runs through them both. The sensation is electric, igniting something deep inside Jungkook, something primal and desperate.

 Taehyung inhales deeply, breathing him in like he’s trying to memorize the scent, like he’s trying to fill his lungs with nothing but Jungkook. A low growl rumbles from his chest, the sound reverberating through Jungkook’s skin, making his breath hitch.

"Mine," Taehyung growls, his voice thick with possession, with something deeper, something unbreakable. The word vibrates against Jungkook’s throat as Taehyung presses his mouth to the sensitive skin just above his shoulder. His teeth graze over it, not biting, not breaking the surface—just enough to claim, to remind Jungkook who he belongs to. Another inhale, this time deeper, more desperate, and Taehyung tightens his grip, holding him impossibly close.

"I need you to smell like me," Taehyung murmurs again, his voice rough with emotion. His lips ghost over the same spot, lingering, branding Jungkook with his presence. "Need you to know you’re safe. Safe with me."

The possessiveness in Taehyung’s voice makes something inside Jungkook snap. It fills him with a heat, a fire that ignites low in his belly. He can feel his own desperation rising, a need to be claimed, to be bound to Taehyung, to feel his scent wrap around him like a shield. Every part of him is aching for Taehyung, for this connection, for the comfort that only Taehyung’s scent can provide.

"Please," Jungkook breathes, his voice barely more than a whisper, laced with desperation and raw need. His entire body quivers as he presses closer to Taehyung, feeling the heat of his omega’s presence. "Please, hyung… make me yours. I want to be yours. Need you to claim me."

The words fall from Jungkook’s lips like a plea, but they are so much more than that. They are a surrender, an invitation, a raw declaration of trust and longing. Every part of him aches with the intensity of it, like his very soul is calling out for Taehyung’s touch. His heart beats in time with the thundering pulse in his neck, aching for Taehyung to mark him, to solidify the bond between them in a way only he can.

Taehyung’s growl rumbles deep in his chest, raw and primal, a sound that makes Jungkook’s skin burn. His control snaps, the overwhelming desire in him too much to contain. Without a word, without hesitation, Taehyung sinks his teeth into Jungkook’s neck, a sharp pressure that makes Jungkook gasp, his body jerking in response. It’s not the pain that makes him shudder—it’s the intensity of the claim, the rawness of the moment. Taehyung isn’t just marking him with his teeth, he’s marking his heart, his soul, everything that Jungkook is.

The sting of the bite pulses through him, but it’s nothing compared to the overwhelming rush of sensation that floods his veins. He feels Taehyung’s dominance settle deep inside him, as if every fiber of his being is being consumed by the omega’s presence. His body shakes uncontrollably, the force of the claim washing over him like a tidal wave, leaving him breathless and desperate for more. The air between them is thick, heavy with the scent of ripe raspberries, the very essence of Taehyung filling Jungkook’s lungs, making him dizzy with the weight of it.

Jungkook’s entire world narrows to the feeling of Taehyung pressed against him, the heat of his body mingling with his own, the steady thrum of his heartbeat matching his own rapid pulse. Every part of him is hyperaware of the connection between them—the way their bodies fit together, the way their scents intertwine in a way that feels permanent, as if they were always meant to be this close, this bound to one another.

The mark burns into his skin, a claim that is undeniable, and Jungkook’s hands grip Taehyung’s shoulders, his fingers digging in as if trying to anchor himself to this moment, to the man who is now so deeply embedded in his life, his soul. His breath comes in shallow gasps as he feels the mark settle, the weight of it anchoring him.

Taehyung’s scent envelops him completely, and he knows that this moment, this bond they share, will never be undone. Jungkook shivers as Taehyung inhales deeply, pulling the scent of him into his lungs, marking him further, claiming him in a way that goes beyond words, beyond anything physical.

For a long moment, they stay like that, connected in a way that feels as though time itself has stopped. Nothing else exists in the world but them, their bodies pressed together, their scents mingling in the air, the bond between them forged stronger than ever before. Jungkook feels it in his very bones, the undeniable truth of it, he is Taehyung’s, and Taehyung is his.

When Taehyung finally pulls back, his breath ragged, his hands still trembling slightly, he looks down at Jungkook with a softness that makes Jungkook’s heart twist. He can feel the aftershocks of the claim still pulsing through him, the heat of Taehyung’s touch lingering like a burn. His hand comes up to gently caress the mark, his fingers tracing the spot where Taehyung’s teeth had been, and Jungkook can’t help the surge of possessiveness that rises in him at the thought of it.

"You’re mine now," Taehyung murmurs, his voice low and filled with a raw possessiveness that sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine. He presses his forehead against Jungkook’s, and the intensity in his eyes is undeniable.

The intensity of Taehyung’s words wraps around Jungkook, filling him with a sense of belonging he’s never felt before. He holds Taehyung tighter, feeling the bond between them solidify, each word, each touch, pulling them deeper into one another. His own tears slip down his cheeks as he whispers, his voice trembling with relief, with love, with the weight of everything they’ve survived together.

"I’m yours," he whispers, and in that moment, he knows it’s the truth.

And in that moment, they know. They know that nothing will ever tear them apart again.

Then, Taehyung leans in again. His lips are tender, just barely brushing against the mark on Jungkook’s neck as he kisses it, but with each kiss, his touch grows more fervent, more desperate. His mouth is soft, but there’s a wildness in the way he kisses, like he’s trying to imprint every part of Jungkook into his soul. The omega’s purring hums against the his skin, a sound that sends waves of warmth through Jungkook’s chest, mingling with the overwhelming rush of emotions. Taehyung’s lips ghost over every curve, every inch of his neck, his shoulder, as though he’s memorizing the feel of Jungkook’s skin, engraving it into his very being. The weight of his touch is gentle, but there’s an urgency there that Jungkook can’t ignore. The soft kisses feel like a plea—a desperate, silent begging to be closer, to never let go again.

The omega’s breath hitches as he pulls back slightly, his eyes wild and dark, like he’s lost in a haze of need and longing. There’s a glimmer of something ferocious in his gaze, a hunger that makes Jungkook’s heart race. “Jungkook,” Taehyung’s voice is low, strained, as he speaks, almost a growl. “Please… let me kiss you. I need it. I need to feel your lips on mine. Please, I need this.”

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, and he can’t help the way his body responds. There’s a desperate ache deep within him, and hearing the raw need in Taehyung’s voice only intensifies it. He feels it too, the deep, primal need to be close, to feel Taehyung’s kiss, to be with him in a way that’s all-consuming, impossible to resist. He’s never felt so overwhelmed, so torn with need. The desire to feel Taehyung’s lips on his is stronger than anything he’s ever known.

"Hyung, please," Jungkook whispers, his voice trembling with desperation, his hands gripping Taehyung’s shoulders as if he’s afraid he’ll disappear if he lets go. "Please… kiss me. I need it too. Please…”

The omega curses under his breath, the sound like a breath of relief and frustration all at once. There’s no more hesitation, no more self-doubt. His lips crash down on Jungkook’s, hard and fast, as though Taehyung is afraid that if he doesn’t kiss him now, he’ll lose him forever. The kiss is frantic, urgent, but there’s a softness behind it, a tenderness that makes Jungkook’s chest ache in a way he’s never felt before. It’s as if Taehyung is pouring everything into the kiss—his fear, his longing, his desperation to feel Jungkook’s warmth, to know he’s real and here and alive.

Taehyung’s lips move over his, hungry but gentle, as if he’s savoring the very essence of him. He pulls away just for a second, his breath mingling with Jungkook’s, ragged and uneven, before his mouth returns to Jungkook’s lips, harder this time, more insistent. His teeth graze Jungkook’s lower lip, a warning, before he bites down softly, just enough to make Jungkook gasp, the shock of it sending a jolt of heat straight through his body. 

The sound that escapes from Jungkook’s throat is low, needy, and it only serves to push Taehyung further into a frenzy. The omega hums, the sound so pleased, so content, but there’s still that burning desperation behind it, as though he’s trying to fill some hollow part of himself with Jungkook’s touch, with his presence.

And then Taehyung deepens the kiss, tilting Jungkook’s head to get a better angle, and the shift is immediate, consuming. His tongue brushes against Jungkook’s lips, soft at first, almost hesitant, as if he’s waiting for permission. But Jungkook’s body answers before his mind can. He opens his mouth, and Taehyung doesn’t waste a second. Their tongues meet, and the world tilts on its axis, spinning too fast for either of them to catch their breath. The kiss is everything—frenzied, desperate, but softer than anything they’ve ever shared. It’s their need, their desire, all tangled into something overwhelming, something that both burns and heals at once.

Jungkook’s hands fly to Taehyung’s back, pulling him impossibly closer, as if he can’t get enough of him, can’t feel his warmth enough, can’t have enough of the taste of him. The air around them is thick with heat, their bodies pressing so close that there’s no space left between them, no barriers. Taehyung’s hands grip Jungkook’s waist, pulling him flush against his chest as he deepens the kiss even further, his body moving with a rhythm that Jungkook can’t control. It’s almost too much.

Jungkook’s body trembles, the heat from Taehyung’s touch spreading through him like wildfire, every kiss, every brush of their lips, intensifying the desperate ache that has taken over him. There’s no separating them now, no way to escape the bond that’s forming between them with each passing second. Everything else fades away. All that’s left is the press of Taehyung’s lips against his, the heat of his body, the wildness in his eyes.

The kiss finally breaks, but the space between them is filled with heavy breaths, their chests rising and falling in unison. Taehyung’s forehead rests against his, their breaths mingling, ragged and uneven. Taehyung’s voice is barely a whisper, his words a low growl that shakes Jungkook to his core. 

"I need you with me, Jungkook-ah. I need you to be here. With me. Always."

Jungkook’s hands tremble as he caresses Taehyung’s face, his voice just as desperate, just as broken. 

"I’m here, hyung. Always. I’m never leaving you."

Taehyung kisses him again, but this time it’s softer, slower—so achingly tender that it makes Jungkook’s breath catch in his throat. Gone is the desperation, the frenzied urgency that had consumed them before. Now, Taehyung takes his time, savoring each brush of their lips, each lingering second where their mouths meet in something warm and gentle. It feels like a promise, like something sacred being passed between them, something fragile and infinitely precious.

Jungkook melts into it, his body softening in Taehyung’s embrace. A quiet whimper escapes from the back of his throat, barely a sound at all, but Taehyung hears it, and he purrs in response—a deep, soothing sound that vibrates against Jungkook’s skin and makes his heart flutter. 

The omega’s hands are steady as they cup Jungkook’s face, thumbs tracing slow, comforting circles against his jaw, grounding him, reminding him that he is here, that he is safe. Taehyung tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss but keeping it just as slow, just as unhurried, like he has all the time in the world to love Jungkook properly.

It’s so gentle, so sweet, that it makes Jungkook’s chest ache, makes something warm and fragile unfurl deep inside of him. It feels like he’s floating, weightless and warm, drowning in the feeling of Taehyung. Every movement, every sigh, every soft press of lips is soothing in a way that goes beyond touch. It’s like Taehyung is fixing something inside of him, healing a wound he hadn’t even realized was still bleeding.

When Taehyung finally breaks the kiss, it’s with a slow, lingering pull, his lips brushing against Jungkook’s just once more before he pulls away completely. Jungkook is left blinking up at him, dazed and breathless, his lips tingling from the warmth of it, from the way Taehyung had kissed him as if he were something precious, something to be cherished.

But Taehyung doesn’t pull back far. Instead, he tilts his head and dips back down, pressing his lips to the crook of Jungkook’s neck, right where the mark rests. The claiming bite he had left earlier is still tender, the skin slightly red, and Taehyung hums against it, the sound pleased, content in a way that makes Jungkook’s entire body relax. The omega’s scent is so much stronger now, no longer clouded by distress, no longer edged with fear. It’s warm and rich—ripe raspberries mixed with his soft honey and sweet vanilla—curling at the edges like the softest embrace. It wraps around Jungkook, soothing him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t known he needed.

Taehyung kisses the mark again, this time with a slow reverence, his lips brushing against it like a silent reassurance. Then another kiss. And another. Each one is delicate, pressed into Jungkook’s skin like a promise, like an unspoken vow that he’ll always be here, that Jungkook will always be his.

Jungkook closes his eyes, his fingers fisting into the fabric of Taehyung’s shirt, and lets himself breathe in the scent of him. It’s different now, stronger, richer. He knows his own scent has changed too, that it’s no longer just his alone. It’s mixed with Taehyung’s now, intertwined in a way that feels right, that feels safe.

Satisfied with his work, Taehyung finally lifts his head, and before Jungkook can fully process what’s happening, he’s being pulled forward, guided until he’s on top of Taehyung, straddling his lap. The omega’s arms wrap around him, pulling him close so that he’s lying on top of him, holding him as if he never intends to let go. Jungkook lets out a small gasp at the shift in position, but Taehyung only hums again, pleased, his hands rubbing slow, lazy circles against Jungkook’s back.

"There we go," Taehyung murmurs, his voice hushed and low, full of warmth. "Much better."

Jungkook sighs, his body molding against Taehyung’s as he rests his head against the omega’s shoulder, letting himself settle into the warmth of him. He feels good like this, like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

Taehyung leans in, his lips brushing against Jungkook’s temple, lingering there for just a moment before he speaks. "You smell like me now," he whispers, his voice filled with something soft, something undeniably fond. "It suits you. I like it."

Jungkook’s heart stutters in his chest, warmth pooling in his stomach at the words. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear that until now. That he smells like Taehyung. That he belongs with him. That Taehyung is happy, pleased with this, with him.

He tilts his head slightly, pressing his lips against Taehyung’s jaw in a small, shy kiss before whispering, "I like it too." He breathes in deeply, letting the scent wrap around him like a cocoon, like a soft, protective shield. "I feel… settled like this. Being yours."

Taehyung’s arms tighten around him, holding him impossibly closer, and when Jungkook looks up, he sees the way Taehyung’s eyes soften, the way something warm and devoted flickers behind them. "You are mine," Taehyung whispers, his voice carrying no hesitation, no doubt. "And I’ll always be yours, pup. Always."

And in that moment, with the warmth of Taehyung surrounding him, with their scents mingling together like two halves of a whole, Jungkook believes him.

The room is quiet, wrapped in the soft, lingering warmth of their closeness. Jungkook is still curled against Taehyung, his body pressed firmly to the older omega’s chest, the weight of Taehyung’s arms grounding him, holding him close. 

Their scents have melted into one, sweet vanilla and honey entwined with ripe raspberries, a scent of belonging, of comfort.

 They breathe in sync, slow and steady, the silence between them not empty, but full—full of understanding, of relief, of the unspoken promise that they are here, that they are alive.

But then—

The door creaks open.

Notes:

Hey!! 👋

Hope you're all having an amazing weekend! 🌞

Poor Taehyungie is really carrying a heavy weight of guilt right now 😔. Jungkook is his only dongsaeng, and the love he feels for him is so deep, it's breaking my heart 💔. And honestly, Jungkook’s feeling guilty too 😢. These two are seriously the pack's babies!
But Taehyung finally claimed him!! 😏 (I swear, I’m not dragging this out just to make it longer... well, maybe a little haha 😅). Apologies for the wait, guys! 🙇‍♀️

Also, since I shared some music I’ve been listening to in last chapter's note, I figured I’d share a few more tracks today! 🎶

I’m absolutely obsessed with Nerves by DPR Ian (I went to his concert solo last year, and it was honestly such an amazing experience 🤩 Love him so much!).
Fun fact: The first K-pop song I ever heard was 'Far Away Young Love' by C-Clown (shoutout to the OG K-pop fans out there, like me! 😅). I actually stumbled upon DPR Ian by accident while listening to music on YouTube one day, and I was so surprised when I found out he used to be a member of C-Clown! 😂

Next, I can’t stop playing Cyberpunk by Ateez, it’s just that good, I can’t get enough! 🔥🖤 Definitely check out the live performances, trust me, it's a total visual treat! 😍🎤

I’m also LOVING Make It Out Alive by One Ok Rock!! 🎸🎶 Seriously, give it a try, it’s sooo good! 😍🔥

And since I’m feeling generous today, here’s another one for you, Keep Me Warm by Chase! 🖤✨

How’s that? 😊

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I’ll see you in the next one! Stay tuned! ✨💕

Chapter 37: Marks of the Heart

Summary:

Taehyung and Jungkook have a visitor

The sound is small—barely there, just the faintest shift of weight, a whisper of movement in the stillness of the room—but it sends a ripple of tension through them both, sharp and immediate.

Jungkook stiffens first, his breath catching as his fingers instinctively curl against the fabric of Taehyung’s shirt, gripping just a little tighter. A second later, Taehyung tenses too, his body going rigid over Jungkook’s, the warmth of his presence no longer comforting but brimming with alertness.

Slowly, together, they turn toward the doorway.

Jimin stands there.

And he looks wrecked.

His skin is pale, almost sickly under the dim light, his cheeks blotchy from crying. His lips are pressed into a thin, unsteady line, trembling ever so slightly at the edges. But it’s his eyes—red-rimmed, glassy, still wet with unshed tears—that make something in Jungkook’s chest tighten, a slow, creeping weight settling over his ribs.

His scent is thick in the air, oppressive and unrelenting, and it takes Jungkook a second to realize why his stomach is twisting the way it is.

It’s suffocating.

The acrid sting of distress burns at the back of his throat, sharp and bitter, mingling with something darker—anger, raw and unfiltered. It curls around them like a storm brewing, thick enough that Jungkook swears he can taste it on his tongue. But beneath the fury, beneath the sharp edge of frustration, there is something else. Something deeper.

Fear.

A deep, gut-wrenching kind of fear that has settled into Jimin’s bones, carved itself into every tense line of his body. It’s the kind of fear that doesn’t fade easily, the kind that lingers, festers, takes root so deeply that it changes you. And it hits Jungkook like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath from his lungs, because he knows that fear. He knows exactly what it feels like to be so terrified of losing someone that it physically hurts.

For a long, heavy moment, Jimin doesn’t move. He just stands there, frozen in the doorway, his expression caught somewhere between relief and something much darker. His fists are clenched at his sides, his knuckles white, his shoulders coiled so tightly that Jungkook wonders if he’s even breathing properly.

Then, Taehyung moves first.

He sits up slowly, carefully, like he’s trying not to startle him, his arms loosening from around Jungkook as he straightens. His brows knit together, his voice soft with concern.

“Minnie—”

Jimin flinches.

It’s small, barely noticeable, just the faintest recoil. But Taehyung freezes, his mouth parting slightly in shock, his expression crumbling into something stricken.

“Jiminie,” he tries again, even softer this time, his hand twitching like he wants to reach out, wants to pull Jimin close and hold him tight, wants to reassure him. But before he can, before either of them can say anything else—

Jimin snaps.

“What the hell were you two thinking?!”

His voice cracks with emotion, sharp and raw, splitting through the air like a whip. Jungkook flinches at the sheer force of it, at the way it hits him square in the chest.

“How could you be so stupid?!” Jimin’s breath is ragged, uneven, and his hands are shaking at his sides. “Going onto the ice? By yourselves? Do you even understand what could have happened? Do you even get what you put us through?!”

Jungkook’s stomach churns.

Because he does understand. He knows.

The memory of it still lingers in his skin, still claws at the edges of his mind—the ice cracking beneath them, the sudden, terrible plunge into the freezing water, the way his lungs seized, how he couldn’t breathe, how the river pulled at them, relentless and merciless.

The cold had been everywhere, had sunk into his bones, had made his body slow, made his limbs heavy. He remembers the terror, the desperation—the way Taehyung had clung to him, the way they had struggled, fought, kicked—

The way they had almost sunk.

Jimin’s scent spikes again, thick with emotion, thick with something dangerously close to panic. His hands shake at his sides, his breath coming faster. "You both could have died!" he spits, voice breaking. "Do you get that? Do you understand what could have happened?!"

Jungkook swallows hard. "Hyung—"

"No," Jimin cuts him off, his voice high and thin. "No, you don’t get to talk right now. You don’t get to explain yourselves, you don’t get to act like it’s okay, because it’s not! We—" His voice catches, and he swallows thickly, pressing a hand to his chest as if it physically hurts. "We searched for you… Panicked out of our damn minds!"

Jungkook’s breath stutters.

"We followed your scent to the river. And then we saw you two on the ice, saw the cracks—" Jimin’s voice breaks, and his shoulders shake. "Yoongi-hyung almost lost his mind. Jin-hyung and Hoseok-hyung—they—" Jimin shuts his eyes tightly for a second, breathing harshly through his nose before snapping his gaze back to them. "And Namjoon-hyung—"

His breath hitches.

Jungkook flinches.

Because he remembers Namjoon’s face when he had pulled him to the surface, remembers the way the pack alpha had been shaking, his hands gripping his arms too tightly, his eyes dark with terror, with anger, with something that made Jungkook’s chest ache.

Jimin lets out a shuddering breath, his hands clenching at his sides. "We thought we lost you," he says, voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I lost you two."

And suddenly, Jungkook gets it.

This isn’t just anger. It’s not just frustration.

It’s grief.

It’s terror.

It’s Jimin reliving the moment he thought they were gone. It’s the powerlessness he must have felt, the fear, the crushing, suffocating guilt—

Because Jimin doesn’t just love them. He adores them. Protects them. And not being able to do that—not knowing if they were even alive—must have been agony.

Jungkook’s chest tightens, his throat closing up.

Beside him, Taehyung looks stricken, his lips parted slightly, his body tense. His scent, which had been so warm and comforting only minutes ago, now carries the sharp, bitter edge of remorse.

"Minnie," Taehyung says again, softer this time, barely more than a breath.

Jimin’s scent is still thick with distress, sharp and bitter, drowning out everything else in the room. He’s shaking, breath heavy and uneven, his fingers clenching into the fabric of his clothes like he’s trying to ground himself.

But then his eyes lift, bloodshot and shining, and they land on Taehyung.

And suddenly, all the air in the room feels too heavy.

Jimin stares at him, expression crumbling, something so raw in his face that it makes Jungkook’s stomach drop.

"Why didn’t you call me?"

Jimin’s voice is hoarse, wrecked, stripped down to something raw and aching. But it doesn’t shake. It doesn’t waver. It cuts through the heavy silence like a blade, sharp and precise, striking straight at the heart of the moment. His eyes linger onto Jungkook for the briefest second before he slowly looks away, his attention shifting entirely to Taehyung. The weight of his gaze is crushing.

"Why didn’t you use the mind link?"

Taehyung flinches.

Jimin’s scent spikes again, wild and desperate, curling beneath the sharp burn of anger. It fills the room, suffocating, laced with something frantic, something bordering on panic. His chest rises and falls in uneven breaths, his whole body taut, his hands curling into fists at his sides as if he’s barely holding himself together.

"I could’ve gotten to you faster," he says, voice rising, cracking at the edges. "I could’ve helped. I could’ve saved you." Taehyung’s lips part slightly, but no words come. He swallows, his throat bobbing thickly, something flickering behind his wide eyes—guilt, hesitation, regret.

"Jimin—"

"No." Jimin cuts him off, his voice trembling now, but still brimming with fury, still sharp enough to wound. "Why, Tae? Why didn’t you call for me?"

His breath hitches, his chest heaving like it physically hurts to get the words out. His voice cracks at the edges, but the anger doesn’t fade. It burns hotter, fueled by something deeper, something visceral.

"You had time, Tae, and you—" He sucks in a shaky inhale, but it does nothing to steady him. "You didn’t reach for me."

Taehyung’s lips press together, his shoulders drawing in slightly, his eyes flickering with something close to shame. He exhales, slow and heavy. "It happened so fast—"

"No!"

The word rips from Jimin like a snap of thunder. His whole body trembles with the force of it, his breath ragged and uneven. "No, that’s bullshit! You had time! You knew you were in danger! You felt the ice crack, you heard it—"

His voice fractures, breaking apart in the middle of his sentence. His fingers curl so tightly that his knuckles go white, his whole frame shaking with barely contained emotion. "And you didn’t call for me."

The words land like a physical blow. Taehyung recoils slightly, his gaze darting away as if looking at Jimin is too much, as if meeting his eyes might make it worse. But Jimin isn’t done.

"If you had called—if you had reached for me—I could’ve saved you," Jimin insists, his voice growing thinner, breaking on the last word. "I could’ve—"

His breath shudders violently, and before he even realizes it, more tears slip down his cheek. His face twists as he swipes at them hastily, as if trying to stop the tears before they fall. But it’s useless. The emotion is too much, too raw, too overwhelming.

"But I didn’t save you," he chokes out, his voice barely above a whisper now. "I didn’t, because you didn’t call for me, and I—"

The words get caught in his throat, strangled and aching. He swallows them down like they physically hurt, his shoulders shaking under the weight of it all.

Taehyung is silent.

"Do you even understand how it felt?" Jimin whispers, voice hollow now, trembling. "To see that ice, to see the water, to see the place where you fell and know that you were under there? That you were trapped—" He sucks in a ragged breath, shaking his head violently, tears slipping freely down his cheeks now. "I couldn’t even—" He lets out a harsh, pained sound. "I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t find you. I couldn’t reach you." 

A sharp, broken sound shatters the tense silence, cutting through the heavy air like a blade. It rips out of Jimin’s throat, raw and aching, barely more than a breath but filled with so much pain that it sends a tremor through the room. His fists clench at his sides, his whole body shaking, his breath uneven as he struggles to hold himself together. But he’s unraveling—falling apart right in front of them, unable to contain the storm raging inside him.

"And now—" His voice cracks, barely above a whisper, his lips trembling around the words. He shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as his chest rises and falls in ragged, uneven motions. "And now it’s happening again, and I just—I can’t do this, Tae, I can’t—"

Taehyung moves.

He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t stop to think. Doesn’t second-guess himself.

He just steps forward and pulls Jimin into him.

The impact is immediate. Jimin collapses against him with a sharp, shuddering breath, his entire frame trembling violently as Taehyung wraps his arms around him, pulling him in as close as he can. His fingers bury themselves in the fabric of Jimin’s shirt, gripping so tightly that his knuckles turn white, his face pressing into Jimin’s hair.

His own breath is unsteady, his own heartbeat thundering in his chest, but he holds on anyway. Holds on like he’s afraid to let go.

"We're okay," Taehyung whispers, his voice thick with emotion, every syllable drenched in something fragile, something unspoken. His grip tightens, fingers trembling as they fist into the back of Jimin’s shirt. "We're here."

But Jimin doesn’t relax.

Another sound escapes him, more broken than the last, and then he’s clutching at Taehyung, gripping him so tightly it almost hurts. His hands fist into the fabric of Taehyung’s clothes, desperate, shaking, as if letting go would make him disappear.

"You weren’t," Jimin breathes, his voice barely there, but the words hit like a physical blow. His fingers twist tighter into Taehyung’s shirt, nails digging in slightly. "You weren’t, Tae. You weren’t."

Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut.

The guilt is suffocating.

"I’m sorry," he breathes, voice breaking under the weight of it all. "I’m so sorry, Minnie."

Jimin just shakes his head, his body still trembling. His scent spikes again, thick with something sharp and bitter, something that clings to Jungkook’s skin and settles deep in his chest.

Jungkook watches them, and it aches.

His throat feels tight, his fingers curling slightly where they rest in his lap. Because this—this isn’t just about the river. It isn’t just about the ice.

This is everything.

Everything they’ve been holding in. Every unspoken fear, every ounce of helplessness, every moment of pain and guilt that has been building, festering, waiting for the moment it would finally break free.

And now it has. It’s too much. But at least—

At least they’re here.

At least they have each other.

Jimin’s body still shakes in Taehyung’s arms, his breath uneven and ragged, but he doesn’t stop—he can’t stop. Because the words keep clawing their way up his throat, raw and desperate, burning as they spill from his lips.

"I saw you," he chokes out, his fingers twisting even tighter into Taehyung’s shirt, like he can’t hold himself up on his own anymore. "I saw you both kneeling on the cracking ice, and I—"

His voice breaks, a sharp, splintering sound, and then he shakes his head violently, his scent spiking with another sharp wave of distress.

"I knew," he whispers, eyes squeezing shut, his whole body trembling. "I knew, Tae—I saw the ice, I could hear it cracking under you, and I—"

His breath stutters, and he shakes his head again, his grip tightening as a violent shudder racks through him.

"I couldn’t do anything," he breathes, voice so small, so wrecked, so filled with something Jungkook doesn’t have a name for.

And it’s that, more than anything, that breaks something inside of them all.

Jimin’s hands tremble where they press against Taehyung’s back, his grip tight, fingers curling so hard into the fabric that they’re sure to leave marks. But he doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he doesn’t care. His whole body is shaking, breath hitching in short, uneven gasps, barely able to hold himself together beneath the weight of the fear still clawing at his chest.

"I saw it, Tae." His voice cracks, barely holding steady, each syllable strained and raw. "I saw the ice split, I saw the way it gave out beneath you, and I just—" His breath catches violently, another sharp, broken sound ripping from his throat, jagged and desperate. His hands curl even tighter against Taehyung’s back, like if he holds on tight enough, he can rewrite the past, erase the moment that’s been burned into his mind. "I watched you fall."

Taehyung flinches, his breath hitching, but before he can say anything, before he can even react, Jimin is already pulling away, his movements frantic, desperate. His hands cup the sides of Taehyung’s face, fingers trembling against his skin.

"I thought—" Jimin swallows thickly, blinking rapidly as fresh tears spill over his lashes, trailing down his cheeks in thin, glistening streams. He looks lost. Like he’s still trapped in that moment, still frozen on the riverbank, still watching in horror as the ice gave way beneath their feet. "For a second, I thought you were both gone." His voice breaks on the last word, a shudder running through him.

"Minnie—" Taehyung’s voice is soft, pleading, but Jimin doesn’t seem to hear him.

"And then Yoongi-hyung..."  Jimin gasps in a breath, his hands sliding down from Taehyung’s face to clutch at his arms, fingers digging in almost painfully. His whole body is trembling, chest heaving with the force of his ragged breathing. "Hyung got to you so fast. So fast. And I was so relieved—"

But something shifts.

His gaze flickers. Moves past Taehyung.

And then—

He looks at him.

Jimin’s whole body locks up, his breath catching in his throat, his scent spiking so sharply that it’s like a physical weight pressing down on them all. Jungkook barely has a second to react before Jimin moves. There’s no hesitation. No pause.

Jimin lunges forward, grabbing him, yanking him close, his fingers curling into Jungkook’s arms with the same frantic desperation he had held Taehyung with just moments before. His touch is tight, unrelenting, like if he lets go, Jungkook will disappear, slip through his fingers like water.

"And you," Jimin breathes, his voice trembling, barely more than a whisper. His fingers twitch against Jungkook’s arms, gripping tighter, his knuckles turning white. "Oh, Jungkookie—"

Jungkook freezes.

His breath stutters. Because Jimin’s scent—

It’s pain.

It’s fear.

It’s pure, gut-wrenching panic, thick and suffocating, curling around them like a vice.

"I couldn’t see you," Jimin whispers, his voice so small, so broken, so utterly wrecked that it feels like something inside Jungkook cracks apart at the sound of it. His hands tighten their grip, trembling violently. "I—I was looking everywhere—" His voice rises, his words coming out faster, more erratic, like he’s spiraling, like he’s drowning in his own fear. "I kept looking and looking, but Yoongi-hyung..."  His breath shudders, catches, like it physically hurts to say it. "Yoongi-hyung only had Taehyungie."

Jungkook’s stomach twists violently.

"You weren’t there," Jimin says, his voice rising even higher, shaking with the sheer force of emotion behind it. "You weren’t with him, you weren’t anywhere—"

Jungkook can’t breathe. He can’t move. Because he remembers.

He remembers the panic. The cold. The way the water had swallowed him whole, pulling him down into its icy depths, stealing the breath from his lungs, burning against his skin, wrapping around him in a freezing, suffocating embrace.

And Jimin—

Jimin had been searching for him.

"I didn’t know where you were, Jungkookie!" Jimin cries, shaking his head furiously, his scent spiking again, so thick with distress that it makes Jungkook’s chest ache. His hands clutch tighter at Jungkook’s arms, his grip almost painful, his whole body trembling with the force of his emotions.

Jungkook swallows hard, his entire body frozen, his mind flashing back to that moment—

The water.

The cold.

The sinking, the suffocating weight pressing down on his chest, the ice-cold darkness wrapping around him like a vice, dragging him under, stealing the air from his lungs until all that was left was silence.

Jimin’s voice trembles, thick with tears, his breath coming in quick, uneven gasps.

"I thought I lost you too," he whispers.

The memory clings to him like frostbite, sinking deep, spreading its icy tendrils through every nerve, every muscle, every breath. The way the water had swallowed him whole. The way it had yanked him down, pulled him under before he even had time to gasp, before he even had time to fight. One second, the ice had been there beneath them, and the next—

Nothing.

Just the crushing, all-consuming weight of the cold.

It had wrapped around his body in an instant, pressing in from all sides, squeezing, suffocating. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before—so sharp, so intense, like a thousand needles piercing straight through his skin, sinking deep into his bones, stealing the breath from his lungs before he could even think to hold it in.

There had been no warning, no time to react.

One moment, he had been there. And the next—

Gone.

A muffled world of nothing.

His limbs had locked up immediately, muscles stiff, sluggish, unresponsive. The shock had stolen all control from him, his body too cold, too numb, too weak to fight against the weight dragging him deeper, deeper, deeper—

And above the ice—

Jimin had been searching for him.

Jimin had been calling his name, voice hoarse and panicked as he frantically looked around, his scent spiking so sharply with distress that it had left the others on edge, hearts pounding in fear. Jimin had been looking for him—

And he hadn’t been there.

A broken, shuddering inhale.

"I thought we lost you," Jimin whispers, his voice splintering at the edges, barely holding itself together. "I thought—I thought we were too late."

Jungkook exhales shakily, trying to find his voice, trying to reach through the thick fog still lingering in his mind, but he can’t. Because Jimin is still going. Still spiraling. Still breaking apart right in front of him.

"It took so long," he chokes out, his eyes squeezing shut, his head shaking furiously as fresh tears slip past his lashes. "It took so long for Namjoon-hyung to find you, Jungkookie—" He gasps in a breath, his grip tightening, fingers curling into Jungkook’s arms like he’s afraid to let go, like if he does, Jungkook will slip through his fingers all over again. "You were under for so long. You were so—so cold, and you weren’t responding to us." His voice cracks, the words faltering as he swallows back a sob. "We were begging you to keep your eyes open but you—"

A broken inhale.

A breath that barely makes it out before his voice shatters completely.

"I thought you were gone, Kook-ah."

And that—

That breaks something inside of him.

Jimin lets out a ragged, gasping sob, his hands coming up to cover his face, his entire body trembling so violently that it looks like his knees might buckle beneath him. His scent is overwhelming, thick with devastation, grief, guilt, curling around them in waves so suffocating that Jungkook can barely breathe past it.

"It’s my fault," Jimin whispers.

Jungkook flinches, his chest tightening so hard it feels like he’s the one struggling for air.

"Hyung—"

"It’s my fault!" The words rip from him like they’ve been clawing their way up his throat, desperate, frantic. His hands drop from his face, his eyes locking onto Jungkook’s, wide and filled with so much pain that it physically hurts to look at him. His gaze is pleading, desperate, like he’s begging them to understand, to hear him. "I—I was the one who suggested we play hide and seek. I was the one who insisted—"

Jungkook shakes his head violently. "Hyung, no—"

"I should have shut my mouth," Jimin sobs, his voice breaking apart on every word. "I should have—I should have known better! If I had just stopped—if I had just—"

His breath catches, his body trembling so hard that it finally gives out beneath him. And Jungkook catches him. Just like Taehyung had.

His arms wrap around Jimin tightly, pulling him in, holding him as close as possible, as if that could somehow fix everything, as if that could somehow take away the weight of the guilt pressing down on his small, trembling frame. Jimin folds against him immediately, his fingers curling into Jungkook’s shirt, his breath coming in short, broken gasps against the fabric.

"It’s not your fault," Jungkook whispers, his own voice unsteady, raw. He doesn’t even know if Jimin hears him over the sound of his own sobs. "It was an accident, Hyung."

But Jimin only shakes his head, sobbing harder, burying his face into Jungkook’s shoulder. Because he doesn’t believe that.

Jimin shakes his head, his breath ragged, his eyes glassy with tears that won’t stop falling. His whole body trembles between them, small and vulnerable, yet still so full of tension, his muscles locked tight, as if he’s holding himself back, as if he can’t let go.

"You don’t understand," he whispers, his voice hoarse. "You don’t understand what it’s like—" His breath catches, his hands clenching into tight fists against the fabric of Jungkook’s shirt. "You’re both younger than me. I—I’m your hyung. I’m supposed to take care of you. I’m supposed to protect you."

His voice cracks, and Jungkook feels something deep in his chest splinter.

"But I didn’t," Jimin continues, his breath uneven, his scent still thick with guilt, his entire body radiating distress. "I couldn’t. You—you almost died, and I—" His hands clench even tighter, his nails digging into his palms. "I couldn’t do anything. I just stood there, watching you disappear under the ice. I—I couldn’t get to you in time—"

His breath shudders violently.

"I keep thinking about it," he whispers. "I keep thinking about what would have happened if Namjoon-hyung hadn’t found you, Kookie. If Yoongi-hyung hadn’t gotten to you, Tae." His eyes squeeze shut, his entire body shuddering. "I keep thinking about—about losing you. About what would have happened if I—"

Jimin swallows back a sob, his voice so full of raw pain that Jungkook’s chest aches.

"I can’t—" He shakes his head again, his shoulders trembling violently. "I can’t bear the thought of you being in danger. I can’t—"

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate.

He pulls Jimin tighter against him, his arms wrapping around his trembling form, pressing him close.

"We’re safe now," he whispers, his voice soft but firm, his hands stroking gently up and down Jimin’s back. "We’re here, hyung. We’re right here with you."

Jimin shudders again, but doesn’t pull away.

Taehyung shifts closer, his own hands reaching up, cupping the sides of Jimin’s face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that won’t stop falling. "Minnie," he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. "We’re okay. We’re safe."

"I need to protect you," Jimin whispers, voice breaking. "You’re mine. You’re my babies. I have to keep you safe, I have to—"

"You do keep us safe," Taehyung says, voice still gentle, but insistent, his forehead pressing against Jimin’s. "You always take care of us, Minnie."

Jimin lets out a shaky breath, but he’s still trembling, still tense, still lost in his own mind, his distress still clinging to him like a second skin.

Taehyung glances at Jungkook, a silent question passing between them, before his hands slide down to Jimin’s shoulders, squeezing gently. "How can we help you? How can we make it better?" he murmurs. "Tell us what you need."

Jimin’s breath hitches.

He looks at them, his gaze flickering between the both of them, wide and uncertain, still so full of conflict, as if he’s fighting something inside himself. Then his gaze lands on Taehyung. Taehyung watches him for a moment, then tilts his head slightly. "Minnie," he says, softer this time, more careful. "Do you need to scent us?"

Jimin freezes.

For a long moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. His fingers twitch slightly against Jungkook’s shirt, his lips parting like he wants to say something but can’t.

Then, slowly, he nods.

It’s so small, so hesitant, but it’s enough.

Taehyung exhales, something soft and understanding passing through his expression before he shifts, baring his neck without hesitation, exposing his scent gland, offering himself completely.

Jimin shudders.

The room is thick with tension, a mixture of urgency and longing that crackles in the air. Jimin’s eyes are wild, like a storm caught in the depths of his soul. There’s panic there, desperation, and something else—something needful. His body trembles, his hands reaching for Taehyung, and Taehyung doesn’t hesitate. He grips Jimin harder, pulling him closer, guiding him with a tenderness that contrasts the urgency in the air.

Jungkook watches, heart in his throat, as Jimin hovers over Taehyung, his eyes locked on the curve of his neck. The air grows thick with the promise of something unspoken, and Jungkook feels himself drawn into the moment. Taehyung’s gaze never wavers, his voice a soft murmur, “Go ahead, Minnie. Take your time.” The words are an invitation, a release, a permission.

Jimin doesn’t wait, not even a second. He’s already burying his head in the crook of Taehyung’s neck, his nose tracing the familiar scent. It’s overwhelming. It smells sweet, so sweet, a heady mix of cherries and raspberries, and something more—a combination of their essences.

It’s intoxicating, a scent that fills the room, wraps around them, draws them closer. Jungkook can almost taste it, the sweetness clinging to the back of his throat, making his pulse spike.

And then, Jimin is kissing Taehyung’s neck, his lips soft but insistent, marking him with delicate, loving kisses. It’s an act of reverence, of devotion, as though he’s memorizing the feel of Taehyung beneath him, the warmth of his skin, the thrum of his heartbeat.

Taehyung is pliant under him, letting Jimin take what he needs, surrendering himself completely to the moment. There’s something so tender, so raw in it, that Jungkook can’t help but feel his heart tighten in his chest. The bond between them, the way they move together, it’s so intimate, so intense, that it almost hurts to watch.

Jimin is purring, soft and pleased, just like Taehyung had when he’d scented Jungkook, the sound vibrating low in his throat. It’s an echo, a soft harmony between them, and it wraps around Jungkook’s heart, making it race. The connection between the three of them is palpable now, a thread that binds them all together in a way that goes beyond words, beyond actions.

It’s a need, an undeniable force that pulls them all closer.

Jimin's gaze is heavy, pleading, almost desperate as it locks onto Jungkook. There’s something raw in his eyes, a hunger that goes beyond physical, something that pulls at Jungkook’s very core. He doesn’t need to say a word for Jungkook to understand what he wants, what he needs.

Jimin’s eyes speak volumes—he’s asking for something deeper, something that will mark him, make him feel whole. The air between them crackles with tension, thick with unspoken words.

Taehyung seems to catch on to the struggle within Jimin. A smirk dances on his lips, teasing but with a tenderness that softens the playful edge. “Do you want to scent him too, Minnie?” he asks softly, his voice a low murmur. His words are casual, but the meaning behind them is clear, Mark him. Make him yours. Make him safe.

Jimin growls in response, his lips curling in a way that sends a shiver through Jungkook. His eyes never leave Jungkook, burning with need. He wants this, wants to claim him, and Jungkook’s chest tightens with anticipation.

Jungkook’s heart races. He can feel it—his need for Jimin’s scent, his desperation to be marked. He wants Jimin’s presence on him, inside him, all around him. It’s not just about possession, it’s about protection, about feeling like he belongs. He wants to inhale Jimin’s scent, to carry it with him, to have it wrap around him like a shield. He wants it all, every part of it, because it’s what makes him feel safe.

A whine escapes Jungkook’s throat before he can even control it. He needs Jimin’s scent, the sweet, intoxicating smell of him to wash over him. He feels the words rising in his throat, desperate, but before he can beg, Taehyung’s voice cuts through the tension again, drawing his attention.

Taehyung turns to Jungkook, his eyes soft but serious. “Will you let him scent you too?” he asks, his voice gentle but with an edge of quiet intensity.

Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, heart pounding in his chest as he looks between Taehyung and Jimin. His body feels like it’s on fire, his need for them overwhelming. The world fades into a haze around him, and all he can focus on is Jimin’s eyes, still pleading, still hungry. He can’t deny it anymore.

“Yes,” he whispers, voice trembling with the weight of his desire. “Yes, please... I need you to scent me hyung.” The words are barely a breath, but they carry all of his need, all of his longing. The intensity of the moment presses against him, makes his skin burn with anticipation, and as he looks at Jimin, all he wants is to feel his scent consume him completely.

Jimin acts with a desperate urgency, his movements sharp and commanding. Without a word, he pulls Jungkook down onto his back, positioning him right next to Taehyung. The proximity of their bodies sends a rush of heat through Jungkook’s chest, the air thick with the weight of anticipation.

Taehyung’s voice cuts through the silence, low and slightly teasing, “Do you need both of your babies under you, Minnie? Right next to each other?”

Jimin doesn’t answer, not with words. His gaze is all-consuming, wild, and the raw hunger in his eyes is enough to set Jungkook’s heart pounding in his chest. Without hesitation, Jimin grips Jungkook’s hair, tugging it just enough to remind him that he is not in charge here—not this time. The action makes Jungkook’s breath hitch, the pull both gentle and commanding. He is at Jimin’s mercy, and he can feel every bit of it.

Jungkook’s neck is exposed as Jimin tilts his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin there. But Jimin stops, his eyes darkening as they burn with intensity. He stares at Taehyung, and when he speaks, it’s like a claim, a declaration. “You’ve claimed him.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement, and the weight of it settles deep in Jungkook’s chest. Before he can even process it, Jimin’s lips are on his neck, hot and urgent. The touch is soft at first, a kiss that burns with the weight of what’s coming, but then Jimin is scenting him, his lips pressing harder, his breath fanning over the sensitive skin.

The air around them becomes thick with their mingling scents—cherries, raspberries, and his own honey and vanilla, something that is entirely them, a blend of sweetness and heat that makes Jungkook’s head spin. It’s overwhelming, like a rush of warmth flooding through him, and he feels his body tremble under the force of it. The sensation of Jimin marking him, claiming him in a way that’s so raw and real, threatens to overwhelm him entirely.

Jungkook can’t breathe, can’t think—only feel. His pulse pounds in his ears, and the pressure building in his chest is so intense it feels like he might faint. His body is humming with the touch, with the heat of Jimin’s scent embedding itself into him, making him his. The sensation lingers, searing through his skin, filling his senses until all he can feel, all he can be, is Jimin’s and Taehyung’s.

Everything inside him is tightening, trembling. He wants to scream from the intensity of it, but no sound comes. His head spins, his heart races, and all he can do is lie there, caught in the storm of their touch, their scent, their claim. It’s like drowning, but in the best possible way, suffocating under the weight of their devotion.

Jungkook’s breath hitches as his hand instinctively grips Jimin’s front, holding on like a lifeline, needing something—anything—just to ground himself. His other hand reaches for Taehyung, seeking his touch, wanting to feel both of them with him, their presence the only thing that feels real in the haze of sensation overwhelming him. The intensity in the air is palpable, thick with the scent of Jimin and Taehyung—sweet, intoxicating, and undeniably theirs.

Jimin doesn’t rush. He takes his time, scenting him with deliberate slowness, each press of his lips against Jungkook’s neck a mark that deepens the connection, making Jungkook feel like he’s being branded by them. His scent clings to Jungkook’s skin, invasive, consuming.

And Jungkook—Jungkook—feels faint, as if the weight of it is too much to bear. The feeling of being completely under the control of both omegas is both overwhelming and exhilarating. He’s so sensitive now, his body trembling under their combined touch, completely pliant in the hands of these two powerful forces.

Taehyung’s claiming bite hums against his skin, a constant reminder of the bond between them, and Jimin’s scenting only heightens the sensation. He’s caught between them, unable to think clearly, only able to feel—feel the intensity of their touch, the overwhelming pressure of their devotion.

Jimin continues, kissing his neck tenderly, leaving more marks as if to reinforce his claim, before pulling away suddenly. There’s no warning, no explanation—he simply shifts his gaze to Taehyung, his eyes dark with an unspoken demand. Taehyung watches him with a quiet submission, and without a second thought, Jimin closes the distance between them.

The kiss is fierce, urgent, charged with an energy that crackles in the air around them. Jimin takes control immediately, his lips pressing hard against Taehyung’s. It’s the kind of kiss that leaves no room for hesitation or doubt, a kiss that speaks of desire and possessiveness. Taehyung can barely keep up with the ferocity of it, his own lips struggling to keep pace with Jimin’s relentless passion.

He’s caught under Jimin’s dominance, completely at his mercy, and Jungkook watches, transfixed, unable to look away.

The sight is so intimate, so raw. It’s the kind of closeness that makes Jungkook’s chest ache with the beauty of it—the way Jimin owns the space between them, the way Taehyung allows himself to be completely undone, melting under Jimin’s kiss. The tension between the three of them is unbearable, thickening the air around them.

Every breath feels too heavy, too hot, too full of need. Jungkook can feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat echoing the tension of the moment. The way Jimin kisses Taehyung is hypnotic, a dance of dominance and submission, and Jungkook is caught between them, wanting to be a part of it, wanting to belong to them both.

Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, the sound of his own whimper echoing in the room before he can stop it. His body tenses, the desperate, needy sound slipping past his lips without his permission. He feels it instantly—the shift in the air around him, the way everything seems to pause, hold its breath, waiting.

The sound of his vulnerability hangs heavy, and before he can even process it, Jimin pulls away from Taehyung, their kiss breaking, the sudden absence of heat leaving Jungkook feeling exposed.

He doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed, though. His heart is pounding too loudly in his chest, and he’s shaking with the overwhelming need for Jimin. His eyes lock on Taehyung, the teasing grin on the other’s face making his stomach churn. Taehyung’s eyes gleam with mischief as he looks at Jimin, his voice a low, mocking murmur that sends a jolt of shame through Jungkook’s spine.

"Is that it, Minnie?" Taehyung teases, his breath warm against Jimin’s ear. "Jungkookie’s whimpers getting to you?" His voice is almost playful, but there’s something more dangerous there too, like he’s trying to push them both, see how far he can go.

Jungkook’s pulse quickens, his chest tightening as the words land. He can feel Jimin's discomfort in the way he stiffens, the way his breath catches before he curses under his breath, his eyes darting away, trying to block out the taunts. Jungkook can’t stand it. He can’t bear the tension, the teasing, the way Taehyung is pushing Jimin like this. He’s not sure how much longer he can take it, how much longer he can be this close to Jimin and not have him. Not have anything.

But then Jimin looks at him, his eyes dark with frustration, and Jungkook knows. He knows that Jimin’s trying, trying so hard to stay in control, but the way he’s trembling, the way his lips are parted, it’s like he’s unraveling before Jungkook’s very eyes.

And then, the words spill out of him, raw and desperate. "I want it," Jungkook says, his voice trembling with need, barely a whisper, but it’s enough. "I want it hyung. Please, kiss me."

His heart races faster, his body feeling like it might snap under the weight of his own longing. The desperate words escape him before he can even think, before he can even process the intensity of his own need. It’s like a burning fire inside him, something so intense, so overwhelming that he doesn’t care if he shatters. If Jimin doesn't kiss him now, if he doesn’t feel Jimin’s warmth and taste, he’s certain he will break.

He reaches out, his hand shaking as he tries to pull Jimin closer, the need building in his chest like a tidal wave. His voice cracks as he pleads, barely able to breathe between the words. "Please, Hyung... Kiss me now, or I’ll—I’ll..." He doesn’t even finish. He can’t.

Jimin's body stiffens, and Taehyung’s voice cuts through the thick air like a blade, low and teasing. "Look at him, Minnie," Taehyung murmurs, his words a challenge that hits like an electric shock. "He’s waiting for you. He’s begging so prettily for you. What are you gonna do about it? Let him fall apart like this?"

Jungkook’s heart stutters at the words. His body trembles with need, his eyes locked on Jimin as he waits for him to make a move. He feels so exposed, so raw in this moment, but it doesn’t matter. He needs Jimin. He needs him so badly.

And then, Jimin's gaze softens. His breath hitches in his chest as he looks at Jungkook, and in that instant, Jungkook knows—Jimin’s not going to let him fall apart. Not like this.

Jungkook’s breath comes in ragged gasps, the heat of Jimin’s body so close, so overwhelming that it makes his head spin. Their foreheads press together, and he can feel the rapid beat of Jimin’s pulse under his skin, mirroring the frantic rhythm of his own heart. It’s too much. The anticipation, the need, the hunger. Jungkook’s body is on fire, every inch of him screaming for more, but Jimin isn’t kissing him. Not yet. And Jungkook can’t take it anymore.

He reaches up, his hands shaking as they grab at Jimin’s shirt, pulling him closer, desperate. His lips part with a soft whimper, and he breathlessly begs, voice breaking. "Please, Hyung… kiss me… I need it… please." His words are raw, pleading, like they’re the last thing he’ll ever say.

Jimin curses under his breath, his hands trembling too as he moves, closing the space between them. He’s closer now, his lips hovering just a breath away from Jungkook’s, and Jungkook’s heart pounds harder, each beat so loud it’s deafening. 

And then, finally, Jimin’s lips crash onto his.

It’s urgent, hungry, a kiss so forceful it steals the air from his lungs. There’s no hesitation, no softness—just pure, overwhelming desire. Jungkook can do nothing but lie there, completely at Jimin’s mercy, taking whatever Jimin gives him. His head spins as Jimin dominates him with each press of his lips, each sweep of his tongue, until Jungkook can hardly think, can hardly breathe. The kiss is everything he’s ever wanted, yet it’s almost too much, too intense.

Jungkook feels his body going slack, overwhelmed by the force of Jimin’s kiss, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. He wants to be good, wants to please Jimin so badly. His mind is a haze of emotions, the feel of Jimin’s plush lips on his too much to handle. His body burns under Jimin’s touch, the need to give himself over to this completely growing with every second. But even as he desperately wants to please, he’s at the mercy of Jimin’s control.

He hears Taehyung’s voice cutting through the haze of lust, smooth and mocking, his words curling in the air. "Look at you two," Taehyung murmurs. "You both look perfect together. Minnie, look at how good Jungkookie is being for you." His voice drips with amusement, but there’s something darker, almost approving in it too. The way he speaks, the way he watches them, it makes Jungkook shiver. He can’t escape it, can’t escape how Taehyung is guiding them, pushing them to this edge, urging them to lose themselves completely.

Jimin’s response is a low groan, deep and guttural, the sound vibrating against Jungkook’s lips as he bites down, hard. It’s not enough to hurt, but it’s enough to send a shock of sensation straight to Jungkook’s core. His body jerks, the pressure of Jimin’s teeth against his lip making him feel owned, claimed in a way that makes his stomach flip with heat. Jimin pulls back just a little, but not enough to let Jungkook breathe. Instead, his lips press harder, more demanding, showing Jungkook exactly who’s in charge.

Jungkook’s body quivers beneath him, a mix of pleasure and pain, of submission and longing. He wants to break, wants to let go, to lose himself completely to Jimin’s control, to let him take everything. But for now, all he can do is give himself over—give in to Jimin’s dominance, feel every heated moment of it consume him.

The air between them thickens, the tension nearly unbearable as Jimin pulls back slightly, his lips brushing against Jungkook’s just enough to leave him breathless. But before he can say anything, Taehyung’s voice cuts through the haze of desire, sounding almost as affected as Jungkook himself. There’s something shaky in Taehyung’s tone, a rawness that makes Jungkook’s pulse spike, the words slipping out in a rush.

"Minnie... please... claim him. Bite him. Make him yours."

The plea is almost desperate, and Jungkook’s heart skips a beat. It’s like something snaps inside of him as the realization hits him with full force, that’s exactly what he wants. The idea of Jimin marking him, of being claimed in that way, is too much to handle. It’s like a wave crashing over him, overwhelming every single part of his being.

His eyes close for a moment, and a soft gasp escapes him, his chest tight as his heart beats harder than before. His throat tightens, and he almost feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He’s not sure why it hits him so intensely—why the thought of Jimin taking him like that makes him feel both vulnerable and consumed, as if he belongs to Jimin in that very moment. The thought of it is dizzying, too much, but it’s exactly what he needs.

Jimin breaks the kiss, looking down at both of them. There’s a small smirk on his face now, and it’s teasing, dangerous in its knowing. He takes in their disheveled, desperate state, his eyes flickering between Jungkook and Taehyung, as if savoring every second of the control he has over them.

“You both look so pretty like this,” Jimin murmurs, his voice low and smooth, almost taunting. “Wrecked under me. Both of you. My babies.”

Jungkook feels the heat in his face, feels how his body reacts to Jimin’s words, to the way Taehyung, too, whimpers, his breath catching in his throat. The sound of it is almost too much for Jungkook. The desperate need in the room is palpable, the tension thick enough to cut through. Jimin’s smirk widens as he watches them, satisfied, the dominance clear in his gaze.

“You’re both so desperate,” Jimin observes, almost lazily, the power in his voice making Jungkook shiver.

Jungkook can feel the pressure building inside him, a burning need to submit, to give in completely. And then, Jimin’s eyes flick back to him, sharp and knowing, reading him as if he can see straight through to his very soul.

Jungkook doesn’t need Jimin to ask. He can feel it—the way his body is practically screaming for this, the way his scent has shifted, how it’s heavier, thicker with his desperation. Jimin can smell it, feel it in the way his body language opens up, the way his eyes won’t leave Jimin’s.

But Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. He swallows, his voice breaking as he begs, his breath shallow. “Please…hyung... I need it. I need to be yours.”

The words come out ragged, like he’s suffocating, but they’re the truth. He needs to feel Jimin take control of him fully, needs the intensity of it to fill every part of him. He wants to belong to Jimin, to feel the mark of it, to be reminded, over and over, that he’s wanted like this.

Jimin’s smirk doesn’t fade. In fact, it deepens as he leans closer to Jungkook, his breath warm against his skin. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s a flicker of something dark in his eyes, something predatory, as he raises his hand to trace the curve of Jungkook’s jaw, slowly, almost lovingly, before his thumb grazes across Jungkook’s bottom lip.

“Are you sure, Jungkookie?” Jimin’s voice is low, teasing, but the weight behind the words is undeniable. His thumb presses a little harder against Jungkook’s lip, the touch a silent command.

Jungkook nods desperately, his body trembling under Jimin’s gaze. He doesn’t need to say anything more—his body speaks for him, his eyes wide and pleading. The scent of his need is thick in the air now, almost suffocating, and he feels Jimin’s eyes devour him, understanding everything without another word.

Taehyung’s voice trembles, soft but laced with an undeniable ache. His eyes are unfocused, his body tense with desire, as he pleads with Jimin, his voice barely a whisper, but it carries every ounce of longing.

"Minnie… please… claim me too. I need it. I need you."

The words spill from Taehyung like a confession, his vulnerability exposed and raw. Jungkook can feel the weight of them, can feel Taehyung’s desperation, and it only intensifies the fire burning in his chest. His body is trembling beneath Jimin, already caught in the storm of pleasure and need, but hearing Taehyung’s words makes him feel even more exposed, as if the tension between the three of them is reaching its peak.

Jimin curses under his breath, his eyes dark with power and hunger, as he looks between them. The possessiveness in his gaze sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine, his body aching with the intensity of it.

“I want to keep you both here forever,” Jimin murmurs, his voice low and filled with a dangerous promise. “Under me. Safe. Mine.”

Jungkook’s heart races at the words, the idea of being kept like this, claimed in every way possible, makes him feel more alive than ever before. He’s overwhelmed by the way Jimin’s words make his skin burn with anticipation. But then Jimin looks at Taehyung, his gaze sharp, commanding.

“Watch,” Jimin says, looking straight at Taehyung, his voice thick with dominance, "Watch as I claim Jungkookie."

Jungkook feels the air shift around him, a buzz of electricity sparking in every nerve, but Jimin’s words don’t stop there. “I’ll claim you again, Tae. After.”

The promise hangs heavy in the air, and Taehyung’s breath hitches, his hand tightening around Jungkook’s as Jimin’s words echo through his mind. But then Jimin’s focus is back on Jungkook, his eyes narrowing with intention as he leans down, brushing his lips against Jungkook’s neck, the feeling so intimate, so possessive, that Jungkook gasps.

He feels the heat pooling in his core, his body instinctively shifting, baring his neck for Jimin. It’s like his body knows, knows what it wants and needs. It’s a silent surrender, a plea for Jimin to take him fully, to claim him completely.

Jimin’s lips press against his skin, soft and lingering for a moment, but then there’s no warning. The sudden sting of Jimin’s teeth sinking into his neck rips through him like a jolt of electricity. It’s like the world tilts on its axis, and everything around him fades into the background. All he can feel is Jimin, his teeth, his lips, his dominance. The bite is hard, possessive, but not painful—just intense, so intense that Jungkook can hardly breathe, can hardly think.

A cry escapes him, not from pain, but from the overwhelming rush of emotion, the fire building inside him with every second. The sensation of being claimed, of Jimin marking him like this, fills him up completely. He feels as though he might shatter, but it’s not fear, not pain—it's pure, unfiltered pleasure, a deep ache that’s finally being soothed. He starts to cry, tears slipping down his face without a sound, his body trembling, as if he can’t handle the intensity of it all.

Jimin keeps growling, a low, primal sound that vibrates through Jungkook’s body, echoing in his chest like a promise. It’s so possessive, so dominant that it makes Jungkook feel owned, marked, completely helpless under Jimin’s control. He can only lie there, limp, his body at Jimin’s mercy as he’s claimed, made to belong to him. He’s no longer just Jungkook—he’s Jimin’s.

And through it all, Taehyung holds his hand. His touch is gentle but desperate, his breath coming in shallow gasps, his eyes wide and filled with something Jungkook can’t quite read. But Jungkook knows. Taehyung is watching them, watching Jimin claim him, and it’s breaking something inside Taehyung too.

He whimpers, the sound soft but filled with need, and Jungkook can feel it in the way Taehyung’s fingers tighten around his, the way he’s so utterly affected by what’s happening between them.

Jungkook can hardly stand it. His heart is hammering in his chest, his skin flushed with heat, his body pulsing with the aftershocks of Jimin’s bite. It’s overwhelming, too much to process, but all he can think about is Jimin. The way he feels now, how he’s been taken in every sense of the word. He’s Jimin’s, and the thought of it sends another wave of tears streaming down his face, silent but all-consuming.

Jimin’s teeth retract from Jungkook’s skin, but the sensation doesn’t fade. Instead, Jimin’s lips move over the bite, tracing the sensitive skin with his tongue in slow, deliberate strokes. Jungkook gasps, the feeling of Jimin’s warm, wet mouth against his neck sending shivers down his spine. The aftershocks of the bite linger, and he can feel the mark deep within him, a reminder of the claim Jimin has left on him. It’s almost too much, too overwhelming, and Jungkook’s eyes flutter closed, his breath shallow as he allows himself to be consumed by it.

From the corner of his vision, he hears Taehyung whine. His voice is thick with the same hunger and desperation that Jungkook feels, and it stirs something deep inside him. But before Taehyung can do anything, Jimin’s gaze shifts, and Jungkook watches as Jimin’s expression sharpens, the glint of dominance still heavy in his eyes.

In one swift motion, Jimin is on Taehyung. His hand grips Taehyung’s hair, yanking him back with a force that makes Taehyung gasp, his body immediately responding to the sudden, commanding movement. Jimin forces Taehyung’s neck to bare to him, his grip firm, unrelenting. The air between them crackles with electricity, the room feeling too small for the intensity of what’s unfolding.

Jungkook can hardly tear his eyes away as Jimin’s teeth sink into Taehyung’s neck. The moment their skin meets, it’s like the world pauses. Jimin’s teeth bite down hard, claiming Taehyung just as he claimed Jungkook, and Jungkook watches, hypnotized, as Taehyung’s mouth opens in a silent cry. The sound is beautiful in its vulnerability, the way Taehyung’s body goes limp under Jimin’s hold, his back arched in surrender.

Jungkook feels it, too—the way his body tightens in response to what’s happening between them. He squeezes Taehyung’s hand, the motion a silent plea for connection, for them to feel each other, to be there together in this moment. His heart pounds in his chest as he watches Taehyung’s face contort in a mix of pleasure and surrender, his body pliant under Jimin’s dominance.

It’s everything Jungkook has ever wanted, everything that feels so right, so meant to be. They are each other’s. They belong to Jimin, and Jimin belongs to them.

When Jimin finally pulls back, his teeth retracting from Taehyung’s skin, Jungkook looks between them. The air is thick with the scent of possession, of surrender, of complete and utter vulnerability. Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s eyes are unfocused, their bodies still trembling, both marked, both claimed in the most intimate way. They look the same, as though they’ve been remade, their bond forged in this moment.

Jungkook’s chest heaves, his breath ragged as he feels the weight of what just happened. They are his, and he is theirs. He can feel the heat of Taehyung’s skin against his, the softness of Taehyung’s hand in his, the way they are both pliant, sated, and vulnerable. It’s a feeling he never wants to escape, the rawness of it, the intensity of their connection. And as Jimin stands over them, the power he wields is undeniable, but there’s also something more—something tender, something that binds them all together in this moment.

Taehyung whimpers, the sound so soft, so intimate, as Jimin holds him down. It’s a sound that makes Jungkook’s heart ache, a sound that tells him just how much they’ve both given in to Jimin’s claim. And when Jimin’s eyes meet his, there’s a possessiveness in them that makes Jungkook shiver, a possessiveness that makes him feel like he’s truly found his place here, with Jimin, with Taehyung. With everything they are to each other.

The three of them, tangled together in this moment, are something entirely different now. Sated. Vulnerable. Marked. And it’s all so incredibly intense, so real, that Jungkook can barely catch his breath. It feels like something sacred, something eternal.

Jungkook lies between them, his body warm and soft, still recovering from the overwhelming experience. He feels Jimin’s gaze on him, soft yet intense, like a blanket of affection wrapped around him. Jimin’s touch is gentle, but there’s power in the way he moves, in the way he claims them both. Jungkook is still breathing heavily, his heart racing with the aftershocks of everything that’s happened, but Jimin’s words—his praise—bring a quiet calm over him.

“You both look so pretty like this,” Jimin’s voice is low and tender, but Jungkook can hear the protectiveness edge beneath it. “All mine.” His words are like a caress, soothing and comforting. Jungkook shivers, not from fear, but from something else—a deep, almost spiritual connection he’s beginning to understand. “You’ve been so good for me. So perfect.”

Jungkook’s chest swells with something close to pride. He feels the weight of Jimin’s touch on his head—warm, firm, and grounding. The way Jimin moves, so sure of himself, makes Jungkook feel cherished in a way he’s never known.

“My good boys. My babies.” Jimin’s hand moves from his hair to Taehyung’s, and Jungkook watches, entranced, as Jimin runs his fingers through Taehyung’s hair with the same care. “You’ve both done so well, haven’t you?” The praise wraps around him like a comforting cloak, but there’s something in the way Jimin’s words deepen that makes Jungkook’s stomach flutter with heat.

Jimin leans down then, pressing a kiss to Jungkook’s lips, soft, lingering. It’s a promise—a pledge that goes beyond just this moment. And then, Jimin moves to Taehyung, giving him the same soft, possessive kiss. Each of them is marked, not just physically, but emotionally, by Jimin’s touch, by his care, by the authority he exudes without effort.

The blankets are pulled over them, and Jimin rearranges their bodies, making sure they’re tucked in, close to one another. Jungkook feels the weight of the blankets around them, the warmth of Jimin’s body still lingering in the space between them, his dominance and care wrapped around them like an embrace. Their hands remain linked, fingers intertwined, as if there’s no need to pull away, no need to hide.

Jungkook feels Jimin’s voice, low and soothing, in his ear. "Shh," Jimin says, his voice a soft whisper that feels like a lullaby. "Close your eyes. Rest now. You’ve done so well. I’ll look after you. I’ll always protect you. I’ll never let anything happen to you again.”

Jungkook’s heart stutters in his chest at the intensity of Jimin’s promise. The sincerity in his words makes Jungkook’s eyes flutter closed, a deep ache of trust swelling inside him. He feels secure, cherished, like nothing can harm him now—like Jimin is the shield, the protector who will never let go.

His body is still trembling, but it’s not from fear—it’s from the intensity of everything that’s just happened, from the connection he shares with Jimin and Taehyung. There’s a bond here, unspoken, but understood. The intimacy of their shared moment lingers, wrapping around them like a protective cocoon. Jungkook knows now that he belongs here, with them, safe, loved, protected.

And as Jimin whispers his last words, Jungkook’s eyelids grow heavier. His breath evens out, and the soft rhythm of Taehyung’s breathing next to him calms him further. He feels the warmth of Taehyung’s hand in his, and with a quiet sigh, his body succumbs to the peace of sleep.

Before he knows it, he’s deep asleep, his hand still tightly holding onto Taehyung’s. The feeling of their fingers intertwined, the knowledge that they’re in this together, keeps him grounded in his dreamless slumber.

The connection between them, unbreakable now, anchors him in a way that nothing else ever could. This time, they won’t let go. Jungkook won’t let go of Taehyung, and he won’t let go of Jimin.

They’re his, and he’s theirs.

Together, they sleep soundly, knowing nothing can tear them apart.

Notes:

Hey guys!! 💕 Hope you all had a great day!

Poor Jimin is absolutely drowning in guilt right now 😭💔 He just wants to keep his babies safe, but let’s be real—they’re way too adventurous for that 😂 TaeKook really put him through it this time! Honestly, I don’t even know if I’d have the courage to step onto the ice like they did, so major shoutout to them for that! 👏
But seriously, Tae… why didn’t you use the mind link?! Like c’mon, it’s not your first day as a shifter!! 🤦‍♀️ But I guess you never really know how you’ll react in a stressful situation.

And don’t even get me started on Jimin being all dominant over his babies!! 😩🔥 My poor heart can’t handle it!! I love soft, shy Jimin as much, but there’s just something about his dynamic with TaeKook that absolutely wrecks me in the best way. 🥵💘

Also, sorry for all the angst (I’m not sorry at all 😈). But now Jimin has officially claimed Jungkook too??!!! 😭💀 These three will literally trauma bond at any opportunity—first back at the old village, and now because of this mess?! 😭😂

Oh, and just to clear things up! A claiming bite isn’t permanent, which is why Jimin was able to claim Taehyung again. Since Tae and Jimin are already mated, they wouldn’t normally need to claim each other like this because their mating bond is way stronger. But in situations like this—when they’re overwhelmed, distressed, or in danger—it’s an instinctive reaction. 💔🐺

Hope you all liked it, and see you next time!! 💖✨

Chapter 38: Echoes in the Dark

Summary:

Jungkook can't seem to sleep anymore

Jungkook wakes with a slow inhale, the familiar warmth of Taehyung and Jimin still lingering on his skin, their soft scents wrapped around him like a cocoon. There’s something deeply comforting about the way their bodies are tangled together, the steady rise and fall of their breathing a quiet rhythm in the stillness of the room. 

The nest is thick with warmth, the air heavy with the mingling scents of belonging—Taehyung’s rich sweetness, Jimin’s delicate softness, the underlying traces of Hoseok, Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi still faintly present in the nests’s fabrics. It’s a haven, a place meant to lull him back into slumber.

And yet, sleep no longer clings to him.

His mind is restless, his body too aware, too awake. It’s not unease—nothing like the nightmares that sometimes pull him into a cold sweat, leaving him breathless and trembling in the dark. This is different. A quiet stirring beneath his skin, an urge to move, to stretch, to breathe in the solitude of the house before the morning light begins to seep through the windows.

Blinking up at the ceiling, he lets his eyes adjust to the dimness, his lashes fluttering with each slow blink. The room is wrapped in shadows, bathed in the soft glow of dying candles. The nest is quiet, the gentle warmth of the bodies beside him grounding, soothing. He turns his head slightly, his gaze falling on Taehyung and Jimin, still lost in slumber.

Jimin is curled against Taehyung, his delicate features peaceful, lips slightly parted as he exhales soft, steady breaths. His arm is draped loosely over Taehyung’s waist, fingers curled slightly where they rest against the fabric of Taehyung’s sleep shirt. Taehyung, in turn, is nestled deep into the nest, his body lax, golden curls falling messily over his forehead. He looks soft like this, unguarded, his usual confidence melted into something more tender in sleep.

Jungkook watches them for a long moment, warmth curling in his chest. It’s a quiet kind of contentment, the kind that comes with knowing he’s safe, that they’re safe. That he’s theirs and they’re his. That, for now, everything is still.

Still, the restlessness lingers.

Carefully, he shifts, peeling himself away from them. Every movement is deliberate, precise. He lifts the blankets with painstaking slowness, careful not to disturb them as he inches his way toward the edge of the nest. The moment the cool air outside of the blankets touches his skin, a faint shiver trails down his spine, but he ignores it, focused on slipping free without waking them.

Jimin stirs slightly beside him, murmuring something incoherent in his sleep, his nose scrunching up just a little before he sighs and relaxes again. Jungkook freezes, breath caught in his throat, waiting. Watching.

But neither of them wake.

Exhaling silently, he presses his lips together and continues, slowly, carefully crawling out of the nest. His bare feet touch the wooden floor, cool against his skin, sending a small jolt through him. Straightening slowly, he casts one last glance at the sleeping omegas before moving toward the door, his steps light.

The door creaks softly as he eases it open, but the sound is swallowed by the hush of the house. He slips out into the hallway, closing the door behind him with careful precision, pressing it shut until the latch catches without a sound.

The house is quiet. Almost eerily so.

The warmth of the nest fades the moment he steps away, and he shivers slightly, arms tucking around himself as he pads down the hallway. The air is cooler out here, the faint chill settling over his skin. He doesn’t bother grabbing a cardigan, thinking only of the dryness in his throat, the slight itch at the back of his mouth that calls for water.

As he moves, the only sound is the soft creak of the wooden floor beneath his feet, the faint, distant crackling of the dying fire downstairs. The embers are still burning low, their glow barely visible from where he stands. Shadows stretch long across the walls, shifting gently as he passes.

The house feels different at night—still familiar, still safe, but quieter. More intimate. It reminds him of the first night he spent here, but now, there is no uncertainty in his steps. No hesitation.

This is his home now.

And as he makes his way toward the living room, moving through the stillness, that knowledge settles deep into his bones.

But when Jungkook reaches the bottom of the stairs, something makes him pause.

It’s subtle at first—just the faintest hint of something familiar curling through the air, threading between the soft scent of aged wood and the lingering warmth of the dying fire. But then it sharpens, deepens, and Jungkook’s breath hitches.

Sandalwood. Dark, rich, and grounding. The unmistakable warmth of cinnamon layered beneath it, a sharper edge of spice that lingers at the back of his throat. It’s a scent he knows well, one he’s grown used to recognizing even before it fully registers in his mind.

Yoongi.

His fingers tighten around the smooth railing beneath his palm, heart knocking a little harder against his ribs. He hadn’t expected anyone else to be awake—least of all Yoongi. The alpha had always been the first to notice everything, his instincts razor-sharp, his awareness something Jungkook had never been able to slip past. A shift in scent, a change in posture, the barest rustle of movement—Yoongi always caught it. Always.

But now, as Jungkook carefully descends, his bare feet making no sound against the cool wooden floor, Yoongi doesn’t even glance his way.

Jungkook sees him then.

The fire casts long, flickering shadows against the walls, the glow stretching over the broad lines of Yoongi’s shoulders, tracing the curve of his jaw, the loose grip of his fingers around a glass half-filled with something dark. He sits in the armchair nearest the hearth, the firelight reflecting off the smooth planes of his face, but his expression is unreadable. His gaze is fixed forward, unmoving, locked onto the flames as they consume the last of the wood, the embers glowing like molten gold.

But he doesn’t react.

Not to Jungkook’s scent. Not to his presence.

And that’s—strange.

A faint unease creeps along the back of Jungkook’s neck, the hairs rising where the warmth of the room should have settled him. He’s used to Yoongi noticing him before he even steps into the same space—used to the way the alpha’s sharp gaze always flickers toward him, even in passing. It’s instinctual, something Jungkook has come to expect. No matter how quiet he is, how carefully he moves, Yoongi should be aware of him.

But now, it’s as if Jungkook isn’t even there.

He hesitates, his fingers twitching at his sides. The crackle of burning wood fills the silence, a low pop breaking through the stillness, and Jungkook swallows, his throat dry.

Something feels…off.

Still, he takes another step. Then another.

And Yoongi doesn’t look at him.

Jungkook shifts on his feet, uncertainty pressing against his ribs, curling tight around his lungs like an unseen weight. The silence stretches, thick and unnatural, wrapping around him in a way that makes his skin prickle.

Yoongi still doesn’t look at him.

Jungkook wets his lips, trying to shake off the unease slithering through his veins. There’s no reason to feel like this, no real reason for the heaviness sinking into his chest. Yoongi isn’t ignoring him, not intentionally—not Yoongi, who always noticed him even before Jungkook noticed himself. Maybe he’s just lost in thought. Maybe exhaustion has settled over him, dulling his senses, making him slow to react.

And yet.

The way the firelight flickers over Yoongi’s face, casting long shadows that stretch across the sharp cut of his cheekbones and the soft dip of his throat, makes Jungkook hesitate. The alpha’s posture is too still, shoulders drawn tight despite how loosely he holds his glass. His fingers, curled around the smooth edge, are relaxed—too relaxed, like he’s forcing them to be. The only sign of movement is the faint rise and fall of his chest, slow and measured, as if he’s keeping himself tethered to something just out of reach.

Jungkook’s instincts whisper at him, warning him that something isn’t right.

He doesn’t want to disturb him, doesn’t want to break whatever fragile moment exists between Yoongi and the fire, but the quiet presses in, too heavy, too unnatural. It doesn’t feel like peace. It feels like something else—like the stillness before a storm, like the way the air tightens before a sharp inhale.

He swallows down the unease and finally speaks, voice low but firm enough to be heard.

“Yoongi-hyung?”

The fire crackles. The embers shift. The shadows dance.

Yoongi doesn’t move.

Jungkook’s stomach twists.

There’s no flicker of recognition, no shift in posture, no subtle turn of his head. His gaze stays locked on the fire, unblinking, the amber glow reflecting in his dark irises. His fingers tighten, just barely, around the glass he holds, knuckles going white for a fraction of a second before relaxing again.

But that’s the only sign that he’s even listening.

Jungkook frowns, his brows knitting together. Maybe he was too quiet. Maybe Yoongi really is just lost in thought, exhausted, letting the warmth of the fire pull him into that hazy space between wakefulness and sleep. Maybe.

Still, his chest feels tight.

He steps closer, the wooden floor cool beneath his bare feet. The closer he gets, the stronger Yoongi’s scent becomes—sandalwood and cinnamon, deep and grounding, but there’s something else now. Something missing. The usual steady warmth it carries is dulled, faint, like a candle that’s been flickering too long and is about to go out.

Jungkook doesn’t like it.

He stops just at the edge of the fire’s glow, the heat brushing against his skin, and now he can see him clearly. The way the flickering light carves shadows into the sharp line of Yoongi’s jaw. The way it highlights the tension in his shoulders, the furrow hidden between his brows, so faint that Jungkook wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t looking so closely.

He calls for him again, voice firmer this time.

“Hyung?”

And finally—finally—Yoongi hears him.

The reaction is small but sharp, a sudden jerk of his shoulders, like someone yanked him back from the edge of something deep and far away. His head snaps toward Jungkook, and for a moment, his gaze is unfocused, hazy, like he’s only just realizing he isn’t alone.

Jungkook watches as recognition flickers in his expression, surprise melting into something unreadable.

“…Jungkook-ah?”

His name falls from Yoongi’s lips like an afterthought, like a question he wasn’t expecting to ask. Jungkook doesn’t know why, but the sound of it—rough and uncertain—makes his chest tighten even more. His voice is rough, worn at the edges like he hasn’t spoken in hours, maybe longer. It rasps against the quiet, low and unpolished, breaking the weight of the silence but not fully shattering it.

Yoongi blinks at him, slow and deliberate, like it takes effort to pull himself from wherever his mind had drifted. The moment stretches, an invisible thread pulling taut between them, delicate and precarious. Then, finally, something shifts—his eyes sharpen just slightly, dragging over Jungkook’s frame, taking him in with quiet scrutiny.

“What are you doing up pup?” His voice is quiet, still distant, like it’s traveling through fog. “It’s too early. You should be resting.”

Jungkook hesitates.

Something about Yoongi’s expression, the way he holds himself, makes the unease from earlier return in full force, curling at the edges of his ribs and settling deep in his stomach. It’s not like Yoongi to feel unreachable, to sit so still that it seems like the world around him has stopped moving. At least he doesn't think it is. The alpha is always composed, always steady, a force of nature as unshakable as the earth itself.

But right now—

Right now, he looks like he’s somewhere else entirely.

Jungkook shifts his weight from one foot to the other, fingers twitching at his sides. He doesn’t know why, but he suddenly feels like he’s intruding, like he’s stepped into something he wasn’t supposed to see. Like he’s interrupted a moment that wasn’t meant to be shared.

But at the same time—

He doesn’t want to leave.

“I…” His throat feels dry, and he swallows against it, forcing the words out. “I wasn’t tired anymore. I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I thought I’d get some water.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond right away.

He just watches him.

Jungkook stands in the warmth of the fire’s glow, feeling strangely exposed under the weight of that gaze. He’s used to Yoongi looking at him—used to the quiet way the alpha notices things, the way his sharp eyes always catch details that others miss. But this—this feels different.

It’s not the kind of attention that usually comes with quiet amusement or knowing exasperation, the kind where Yoongi seems to read him like an open book and lets him pretend he hasn’t.

No, this is something else.

Yoongi’s eyes are dark, unfathomable, filled with something heavy, something tangled and thick, emotions layered so deeply that Jungkook can’t pull them apart. He’s seen storms roll in before—watched the way the clouds shift and build, restless and unpredictable, charged with something electric that can’t be contained.

That’s what Yoongi’s expression reminds him of. A storm waiting to break. Jungkook doesn’t understand it, doesn’t know why the sight of it makes something in his chest tighten like a hand gripping too hard. But he knows one thing for sure.

Yoongi is not okay.

“…Hyung?” He says it quietly, testing the weight of the word, uncertain if he should say more.

Yoongi’s fingers tighten slightly around the glass in his hand. Just a small movement, barely noticeable, but Jungkook sees it.

The air between them shifts.

And for the first time since stepping into the room, Jungkook wonders if Yoongi had been awake long before him. If he had been sitting there for hours, staring at the fire like it held answers he wasn’t sure he wanted. If whatever thoughts were clouding his mind now had been lingering all night, pressing down on him in the quiet of the house, unseen by anyone else.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to do.

He should leave—he knows that. Shouldn’t push, shouldn’t pry, shouldn’t force his presence where it might not be wanted.

But the way Yoongi looks—

Like he’s somewhere far away, lost in the embers of a fire that’s slowly burning itself out—

Jungkook can’t bring himself to walk away.

He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know if he should say anything at all. The silence between them is thick, stretching out like a thread pulled too tight, but it doesn’t snap. It just lingers, pressing into the space between them, heavy and unspoken.

So he just stands there, watching Yoongi, waiting.

And Yoongi keeps looking at him like he’s seeing him for the first time.

There’s something in the way his gaze moves over Jungkook’s face—slow, searching, as if he’s trying to commit something to memory. It makes Jungkook’s stomach twist, makes his fingers itch to do something, say something, but he doesn’t know what.

He doesn’t know why, but the idea of walking away, of leaving Yoongi alone by the fire, doesn’t sit right with him. Maybe it’s the distant look in the alpha’s eyes, or the way his shoulders are drawn just a little too tight, like he’s holding something in, something he doesn’t want to let slip. Or maybe—maybe it’s something more selfish.

Maybe Jungkook just doesn’t want to be alone either.

The thought unsettles him, makes him shift on his feet, makes his pulse feel too loud in the quiet. But he doesn’t let himself dwell on it for too long. Instead, he steps closer, the warmth of the fire brushing against his skin as he hesitates, just for a moment, before speaking.

“Can I sit with you hyung?”

Yoongi turns his head slightly, his dark eyes catching the firelight as they meet Jungkook’s. There’s something distant in his gaze again, something guarded, something he isn’t saying. For a second, Jungkook thinks he’s going to say no. But then Yoongi nods—slow, deliberate—before turning back to the fire.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for him to change his mind. He moves forward, lowering himself onto the blankets arranged next to the fireplace, folding his legs beneath him. The floor is warm from the fire, the thick material of the blankets soft beneath his hands.

The heat seeps into his skin, chasing away the lingering chill of the night, and for a moment, they just sit there in silence, the only sound the quiet crackle of burning wood.

It’s not uncomfortable.

Yoongi’s silence has never made Jungkook feel uneasy the way other people’s sometimes do. It’s different—steady, solid, like the quiet that settles over the forest after a snowfall. It doesn’t demand to be filled. It simply exists, wrapping around them like a second layer of warmth, and Jungkook finds himself relaxing into it without realizing.

His shoulders loosen. His breathing slows.

And yet—

Curiosity lingers in the back of his mind, curling like smoke, impossible to ignore.

Jungkook glances at Yoongi from the corner of his eye, watching the way the firelight flickers against his skin, throwing sharp shadows over the strong lines of his face. His features are relaxed, but there’s something about his expression that doesn’t quite match—like a mask that’s been set in place just a little too carefully, hiding something just beneath the surface.

Jungkook shifts slightly, pressing his fingers into the fabric of the blankets beneath him. His voice is quieter when he finally speaks, softer, like he’s testing the weight of the question before fully letting it go.

“Hyung…” He hesitates, then tries again. “Are you okay?”

For a long moment, Yoongi doesn’t answer. Jungkook wonders if he’s going to pretend he didn’t hear, if he’s going to brush it off. But then Yoongi exhales, slow and measured, his breath barely audible over the fire.

“I’m fine.”

The words are too easy. Too practiced.

Jungkook’s brows furrow slightly, but he doesn’t push. Not yet. Instead, he lets the quiet settle between them again, lets the fire fill the space where words fail. Outside, the wind shifts, rustling through the trees, carrying the distant scent of snow. Inside, beneath the glow of the dying fire, Jungkook watches Yoongi and wonders how much of himself he’s keeping hidden in the embers.

“What are you drinking?”

Jungkook’s voice is soft, almost hesitant, the words slipping into the quiet space between them like pebbles tossed into still water. It’s not meant to pry, not meant to push—just something to break the silence, to ground them in the moment instead of whatever thoughts are lingering too heavily in the air.

Yoongi’s gaze drops to his own hand, as if only now remembering the glass he’s holding. His fingers tighten around it slightly, the smooth curve of the glass catching the firelight, a faint glimmer of gold reflecting off the amber liquid inside. There’s a moment—a beat too long—before he exhales, low and quiet, almost like the breath itself carries something heavier than words.

“Whiskey,” he says. His voice is rough, a little hoarse around the edges, like he hasn’t spoken in a while. Then, after a pause, he adds, almost like an afterthought, “But I don’t really feel like drinking it anymore.”

Jungkook blinks.

Whiskey?

This early?

His gaze flickers back to the glass in Yoongi’s hand, watching the way the liquid moves when the alpha shifts slightly, a slow ripple disturbing the still surface. There’s something about it that makes unease coil low in Jungkook’s stomach. He doesn’t think Yoongi is the type to drink just for the sake of it. And definitely not at this hour.

Something must be wrong.

The thought makes his fingers curl against the soft fabric of the blankets beneath him. He wants to ask. The question sits heavy on the tip of his tongue, pressing against his teeth, but he swallows it down before it can escape. It doesn’t feel like his place, not when Yoongi looks like this—closed off, unreadable, wrapped in a silence that feels too thick to wade through.

Instead, Jungkook shifts slightly, tilting his head toward the alpha.

“Why are you up so early?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer right away.

The fire crackles, low and steady, sending a flicker of light dancing across his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw, the faint crease between his brows. His lips part slightly, like he’s considering what to say, but no words come out at first. Instead, he lifts the glass, rolling it between his fingers as if he’s debating whether or not to take another sip.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he exhales again, a slow, steady breath through his nose, and sets the glass down beside him with a quiet clink against the wooden floor. His fingers linger against the rim for a second before he finally leans back slightly, tilting his head just enough to meet Jungkook’s gaze.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he admits, his voice quieter this time, like the weight of the words has settled somewhere deep in his chest.

Jungkook watches him carefully, trying to read between the lines, trying to piece together the thoughts Yoongi isn’t saying. Because ‘couldn’t sleep’ could mean a lot of things, and none of them feel like the full truth.

Still, he nods, not pushing, just letting the answer settle.

Outside, the wind shifts again, rattling softly against the walls of the house. Inside, the fire burns lower, the light casting longer shadows, stretching out across the wooden floor. Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know if he should say anything at all. But the quiet between them feels heavier than before, pressing against his ribs, settling somewhere deep in his chest.

And for some reason, it makes him want to stay.

Jungkook watches him carefully.

“Why not?”

The question is quiet, but it lingers in the space between them, curling into the warm air like the slow burn of the fire. It’s not demanding, not pressing—just a gentle prompt, an open door if Yoongi chooses to walk through it.

But Yoongi doesn’t look at him.

For a long moment, he just sits there, still as stone, the flickering light casting shadows across the sharp lines of his face. His jaw is tight, shoulders tense, his hands resting loosely in his lap—but there’s something rigid about his posture, something that speaks of a weight pressing down on him, a burden carried too long, too quietly.

Jungkook can see it.

The way Yoongi’s fingers twitch against his knee. The way his breath comes just a fraction too slow, too measured, as if he’s trying to hold something back.

And then, without turning his head, Yoongi finally says, “Nightmares.”

Jungkook stills.

The word is simple. Matter-of-fact. No embellishment, no elaboration—just a single word, dropped like a stone into the still surface of a pond. But it lands heavy in Jungkook’s chest, sinking deep, twisting into something tight and aching.

Because he knows.

He knows what it’s like to wake up gasping, heart hammering against his ribs, the echoes of fear still clawing at the edges of his mind. He knows what it’s like to sit in the dark, staring at nothing, trying to steady his breathing, trying to shake off the ghostly fingers of a dream that feels too real.

He knows what it’s like to be alone with it.

And he wonders—how many times has Yoongi done this?

How many nights has he sat here, staring into the fire, trying to drown out the memories with the burn of whiskey he doesn’t really want? How many times has he endured this in silence, never letting anyone see, never letting anyone share the weight of it?

Jungkook swallows.

He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t think there’s anything he can say that would make a difference, anything that wouldn’t sound empty, meaningless. It’s just a dream doesn’t help. You’re okay now doesn’t erase the feeling of being trapped inside it.

So instead, he just stays.

Silent. Steady. Warm beside him.

Yoongi doesn’t speak again, but Jungkook notices the way his shoulders drop just a little, the way his fingers relax slightly against his knee. The fire crackles softly, the only sound in the quiet room, and Jungkook exhales, slow and careful, like he’s trying not to disturb the fragile stillness between them.

Maybe he doesn’t need to say anything. Maybe just being here is enough.

Yoongi is an alpha. And alphas are supposed to be strong. Dominant. Unwavering. The foundation of a pack. The unshakable force that others can lean on.

That’s what he had learnt, at least.

Jungkook has seen it in the way people look at Yoongi, in the way they carry a quiet sort of respect for him. He isn’t the loudest, isn’t the kind to demand attention with grand gestures or showy displays of dominance, but he doesn’t need to. His presence is something heavy, something solid and undeniable—like the calm before a storm, like the quiet weight of thunderclouds gathering in the distance.

His gaze is sharp, missing nothing, and when he speaks, his words carry weight, as though they’re deliberate, measured, chosen with purpose.

People listen when Yoongi talks.

But there’s something else to him, something beneath all that quiet intensity.

Jungkook hasn’t seen much of it yet, but he can tell.

It’s in the way Yoongi talks about his music, the way his voice softens, like the very thought of it is something delicate, something to be held carefully. It’s in the way his fingers move over guitar strings, precise and reverent, like he’s crafting something sacred. It’s in the way he knows so much about flowers, how he can name them at a glance and explain their meanings.

It’s in the way he touches.

How he’s only ever handled Jungkook with care. Yoongi isn’t just an alpha. He is more than that. And yet—right now, he looks small.

Jungkook doesn’t like it.

He doesn’t like the unfocused look in Yoongi’s eyes, like he’s lost somewhere deep inside his own mind, drifting too far from the present. He doesn’t like the way his usual sharp edges are dulled, his shoulders hunched, his posture tense as though weighed down by something unseen.

Yoongi isn’t the kind of person who curls in on himself.

But he’s doing it now.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to the glass of whiskey in Yoongi’s hand—the amber liquid sloshing slightly as his grip shifts. It’s not even half-empty, but Yoongi hasn’t taken a sip in a while. He’s just holding it, fingers tight around the glass, like he doesn’t actually want it but doesn’t know what else to do.

Jungkook’s chest tightens. He doesn’t like seeing Yoongi like this. Doesn’t like that Yoongi is sitting here, alone, with nothing but firelight and old ghosts for company. Doesn’t like that there’s something hurting him, something deep and unspoken, something Jungkook doesn’t understand but desperately wants to.

Doesn’t like that Yoongi, who has always felt so solid, so certain, suddenly looks fragile. And for the first time since he’s met him, Jungkook finds himself thinking that maybe Yoongi needs someone to lean on, too.

Something about it makes his chest feel tight, like a string is pulling taut inside him, straining until it might snap.

The weight in Yoongi’s expression, the distant, hollow look in his eyes—it makes something in Jungkook’s chest clench, an ache that he doesn’t fully understand but can’t ignore.

He wants to fix it.

Wants to reach out and shake the tension from Yoongi’s body, smooth away the furrow in his brow, take that empty, exhausted look from his gaze and replace it with something else—something lighter, something warm.

But he doesn’t know how.

He doesn’t know Yoongi well enough yet—not like Jimin and Taehyung do, not like Namjoon does. Not like Hoseok or Seokjin do. He doesn’t know the right words to say to chase away the shadows lingering in his expression. Doesn’t know what will make the alpha’s shoulders relax, what will steady the storm behind his eyes. But what he does know is that no one deserves to sit alone with their nightmares. So Jungkook does the only thing he can think of.

He keeps talking.

“I really liked when you played your guitar, hyung,” he says, voice quiet but sure.

Yoongi blinks, as if being pulled from a daze. His gaze refocuses a bit, finally landing on Jungkook—not through him, not past him, but on him. The shift is subtle, almost imperceptible, but Jungkook notices it anyway. The slight crease of his brows, the slow way his fingers uncurl slightly from where they’ve been tense around the glass.

Jungkook takes that as a sign to keep going.

“That day, in your garden.” He hesitates, then continues, his fingers curling against his knees. “I—I’ve never heard anyone play before. It was… really beautiful.”

Yoongi exhales, slow and quiet, and there’s something in the sound that makes Jungkook wonder if he’s surprised—if he hadn’t expected the conversation to shift like this.

And then, the smallest thing happens.

Yoongi’s lips twitch. Not quite a smile, not even close, but something near it, something hovering at the edge of one. A ghost of amusement lingers in the air between them, fragile but present, and it makes Jungkook’s breath catch.

“Thank you,” Yoongi murmurs.

His voice is softer now, no longer weighed down by whatever thoughts had been drowning him moments before. It’s not much—but it’s something.

And Jungkook holds onto that, holds onto the way Yoongi’s gaze feels just a little steadier now, the way his shoulders aren’t quite so rigid. It’s small. A fraction of warmth in the middle of the cold.

But sometimes, even the smallest things matter.

Encouraged, Jungkook continues.

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to play an instrument.” He tilts his head slightly, watching Yoongi’s expression shift. “I mean, I never really had the chance to before, but...I think it’d be nice. Do you think I could learn?”

Yoongi hums softly, his voice low and rough, like it hasn’t been used in days. He speaks slowly, as if the words are being dragged out of him. "You could learn, if you wanted to."

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard by how distant Yoongi sounds. “Really?”

Yoongi doesn’t look at him, his gaze fixed on the fire. His fingers absentmindedly trace the rim of his glass. “Yeah… Playing the guitar isn’t impossible.” His voice is flat, almost mechanical, as though he’s not fully aware of what he’s saying. “With enough practice, your fingers… they’ll learn the movements. Chords won’t be so hard after a while.”

Jungkook takes a step closer, frowning. "You make it sound easy."

Yoongi doesn’t respond right away. His eyes stay on the flames, his lips barely moving. "It’s… just time. You put in the time. And it becomes second nature." His voice is drifting, as if he’s not entirely there, not entirely present. His words hang in the air like an afterthought, lost in the silence between them.

And Jungkook doesn’t push.

His goal isn’t to force Yoongi into a conversation he doesn’t want to have. He doesn’t want the alpha to feel like he has to respond, doesn’t want him to feel obligated to speak when he clearly hadn’t been planning on it. He just wants to be here, sitting by the fire with him, but without the thick, suffocating loneliness pressing in between them.

He doesn’t want Yoongi to overthink, doesn’t want him to spiral further into whatever thoughts have his shoulders curled in like he’s trying to hold himself together.

So he keeps talking.

He tells Yoongi about flowers—how the fields here are different from the ones he remembers, how he’s never seen so many different colors in one place, even in spring. He tells him how he really likes knowing what each one means, how it feels like he’s learning a secret language only the earth can speak. And then, voice softer, he tells him how much he had treasured the Scilla flower Yoongi had given him.

That finally earns him a look.

Yoongi’s eyes are slightly less unfocused now, the fog of his thoughts clearing just enough for Jungkook to see that he’s listening. He’s still quiet, but Jungkook doesn’t mind.

Encouraged, he keeps going.

He tells Yoongi about the pups, about how they run straight to him when they see him, giggling and tugging at his hands. How their laughter makes him feel warm in a way he’s never quite felt before.

He tells him about Halmeoni, how she reminds him so much of his own grandmother—the one he misses more than he ever allows himself to say out loud. How Halmeoni fusses over him like she’s known him forever, how she makes sure he eats enough.

He tells him about the new friends he’s made—the ones he met just before the festival, Kyungmin, Eunha and Sejong. How they had been so kind to him, so welcoming, treating him like he belonged here, like he wasn’t just some outsider who had stumbled into their world by accident.

And through it all, Yoongi listens.

His eyes aren’t as far away as they had been when Jungkook first walked in. His grip on his glass has loosened, his shoulders aren’t as tense, and even though he still hasn’t said much, Jungkook can feel the difference.

He isn’t alone in his silence anymore.

And Jungkook will keep talking for as long as it takes to make sure he doesn’t feel like he is.

Yoongi is silent for a moment longer, and then he moves, setting his glass down on the table beside them. The sound of it meeting the wood is soft, but in the quiet of the room, it feels heavier than it should.

Yoongi turns to him, his eyes locking with Jungkook’s. The intensity of the moment makes Jungkook’s breath catch. Yoongi’s gaze is steady, but there’s something searching behind it, something that makes Jungkook feel like Yoongi is looking through him, past him, trying to see something deeper than just the surface.

After a long pause, Yoongi exhales softly, his lips pressing together for a brief moment, as if weighing his next words carefully. Then, his voice breaks the silence, low and steady, but with an edge of something raw. "I know what you’re doing."

Jungkook doesn’t look away. He doesn’t try to deny it or explain himself. He simply stays still, letting the words hang between them like a heavy fog. There’s no need for explanations. Yoongi knows. The silence stretches out, thick and heavy, but Jungkook doesn’t mind it. He waits, giving Yoongi the space to decide how to respond.

Yoongi’s lips press together again, and he seems to be debating something, his expression flickering between indecision and something deeper. Finally, after another pause, he speaks again, his voice quieter now, a vulnerability to it that makes Jungkook’s chest tighten. "Thank you."

The words land with the weight of something unspoken, like Yoongi is acknowledging more than just the gesture. There’s an intensity to his gratitude, something raw and exposed that makes Jungkook’s throat feel tight. His chest aches in a way he doesn’t know how to explain.

Jungkook shakes his head, the movement almost instinctual. "It’s nothing," he says softly, his voice barely more than a whisper, matching Yoongi’s quiet tone. "I’m just glad I could help."

Yoongi doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes never leaving Jungkook’s face, studying him with that steady gaze. Something shifts in his expression then, softening just a little, as if the weight of his own thoughts is briefly lifted. For a moment, it feels like Yoongi is allowing himself to breathe, if only just a little.

The air feels heavier now, but in a way that’s comforting rather than suffocating. Jungkook lets the silence settle for a moment, but there’s something else, a quiet question that still lingers in his mind, one he can’t ignore. He hesitates for just a second, unsure if it’s the right thing to ask, but his voice comes out careful, almost tentative. "Do you… want to talk about it?"

The question feels fragile in the air, like stepping on thin ice, uncertain of whether it will crack under his weight. "Sometimes… talking about nightmares makes them feel less real." His words hang in the air, delicate but honest.

For a moment, Yoongi’s shoulders stiffen, the tension returning to his body as if Jungkook’s offer has stirred something in him, something he’s not ready to face. Jungkook can see the shift in his posture, the way his muscles tighten again, like he’s bracing for something.

Jungkook quickly adds, his voice soft and reassuring, "If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I’m happy to just sit here." He doesn’t want to push. He doesn’t want to make Yoongi feel cornered, but he also wants to be there for him in whatever way Yoongi needs.

Yoongi doesn’t answer immediately. He just sits there, looking at the fire, his face unreadable as he stares at the flickering flames. Jungkook watches him, waiting, holding his breath, unsure of what Yoongi will do next.

For what feels like an eternity, Yoongi doesn’t say a word. He’s still, his expression guarded, his thoughts hidden behind a wall that Jungkook can’t quite break through. But then, slowly, almost reluctantly, Yoongi turns his head just slightly, his eyes flickering away from Jungkook’s to settle on the fire once more. The flames dance in the dim light, casting flickering shadows across his face.

Jungkook watches him, unsure whether to push again or to let Yoongi have the space he needs. He knows that Yoongi has his own demons, his own battles, but in this moment, he just wants to be there. Quietly, steadily, offering his presence without judgment, without expectation.

Yoongi doesn’t look back at him, but there’s something in the way his shoulders relax just a little, a small concession that perhaps, for a moment, he isn’t so alone. The fire crackles between them, and for now, that’s enough.

And finally, Yoongi speaks.

“It was about you,” he says, his voice quiet but firm. There’s something in the way he says it, like a weight lifting off his chest, even if just for a moment. But that weight is quickly replaced by something heavier, something suffocating. “You and Taehyungie.”

Jungkook stills, his pulse picking up speed. His breath catches in his throat, the air between them suddenly thick with tension. The fire crackles softly in the background, but its warmth feels distant now, too far away to reach either of them. Jungkook can see Yoongi’s grip tightening on his knee, his fingers pressing into the fabric of his pants so hard that his knuckles go pale, and a coldness sweeps through Jungkook’s chest. He wants to reach out, to say something, anything, but his words seem to have vanished. He just sits there, waiting, as Yoongi continues, his voice low but edged with something darker now.

“About the accident,” Yoongi whispers, his throat tight, like just saying it out loud causes some part of him to break. “At the river.”

Jungkook feels the breath leave his lungs, the weight of Yoongi’s words sinking deep into his chest, a sharp pang of guilt twisting within him. Yoongi is speaking the words so softly, it’s like the entire memory is coming back in full force—clear, brutal, impossible to ignore. He can almost feel the cold water rushing in, the panic, the helplessness, the fear for his life and Taehyung’s.

Yoongi’s voice gets rougher, edged with something raw, something bitter, like the words are dragging something out of him that he’s buried so deep he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. His fingers curl harder against his knee, his nails digging into the fabric of his pants until it looks like he’s holding on just to keep himself from falling apart. Jungkook can see the tremor in his hand, the barely controlled rage and sorrow in Yoongi’s body, and it makes his own heart twist painfully in his chest.

"The nightmares are always different," Yoongi murmurs, his voice distant again as he stares into the fire, the flames flickering in his eyes. “Sometimes I get there too late. Sometimes I’m right there, reaching for you, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t hold on." His voice cracks on the last part, the quiet desperation in it like a knife to Jungkook’s chest. "And sometimes…” He pauses, his jaw tightening, his whole body stiffening, like the weight of what he’s about to say is too much to bear. “Sometimes I don’t even see it coming. I just turn around, and you’re both gone.”

Jungkook doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. He simply stays still, watching Yoongi, watching him break in the smallest, quietest ways. Yoongi doesn’t even seem to realize that his voice is barely a whisper, that the words he’s saying are full of such unbearable pain, the kind of pain that no one should have to carry alone.

The silence stretches out, and Yoongi doesn’t look at him, doesn’t look at anything, as if he’s lost in the memory, trapped in the nightmare that never lets him go. The flames crackle, the only sound between them now, and Jungkook wants to speak, wants to offer comfort, but he can’t find the words that will help, that will change anything.

"But it never changes," Yoongi continues, shaking his head, the movement small, defeated. His expression is blank, like a mask, but his voice is thick now, too heavy with emotion to hide anything. "No matter how many times I dream it, the end is always the same." His voice cracks again, low and full of a kind of sorrow that Jungkook has never heard from Yoongi before. “You both drown. I can’t save you.”

The words feel like a punch to the gut, and Jungkook feels his breath catch in his throat. He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know what to do, because nothing he says will change the fact that Yoongi’s nightmares are so real to him, so vivid and painful that they have a weight of their own. He watches Yoongi, watches the way his shoulders sag, the way his whole body feels like it’s just barely holding on, like he’s been carrying this unbearable burden for so long that it’s starting to tear him apart.

A shuddering breath escapes Yoongi’s chest, quiet but telling, like it’s the only thing he can do to hold himself together. His eyes flicker to the fire for just a moment, then back to the ground, and Jungkook can see the faint tremor in his hands, the way he’s trying so hard to keep it together, to hide everything that’s breaking inside him.

"I know it’s not real," Yoongi says after a long moment, his voice quieter now, almost pleading with himself. "I know that. I’ve had enough nightmares to understand that they’re just… echoes of something I can’t change." His words are so heavy with the weight of frustration, of things he can’t fix, of things he’s failed to control. "But knowing doesn’t make it feel any better when I wake up."

Jungkook feels a lump form in his throat, the words trapped inside him, because he knows there’s nothing he can say to make Yoongi feel better. Nothing he can do to erase the pain, to wipe away the memories that haunt him night after night. But the worst part is that Yoongi won’t ask for help. He won’t reach out, won’t let anyone see the depth of the darkness that’s clawing at him from the inside.

And that’s why Jungkook stays silent, just watching him, letting Yoongi speak, letting him unravel, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left to say. Because Yoongi’s pain isn’t something that can be fixed in an instant. It’s something that runs deeper, something that time and patience might heal—if Yoongi ever lets it. And all Jungkook can do now is be there. Sit quietly in the shadows of Yoongi’s silence, and hope, somehow, that his presence is enough to remind him that he isn’t alone.

Jungkook swallows hard, his throat tight with something he can’t name. His chest aches—not just from hearing the pain in Yoongi’s voice, but from the brutal realization that the alpha has been carrying all of this alone, wrapped in silence, the weight of it suffocating him in ways that Jungkook hadn’t fully understood until now.

Yoongi exhales sharply through his nose, his breath ragged, as if he’s trying to shake off the weight of his own thoughts, to push them away from his mind, but the effort only seems to make them cling harder. His shoulders are slumped, every movement slow and heavy, like he’s physically dragging the burden of these memories behind him.

"I keep replaying it," Yoongi admits, his voice tight, the words coming out like they’re coated in a thick layer of something that doesn’t quite reach the surface. "The river. The ice. The way you fell through." His voice cracks slightly, the image of it clearly still raw, even after all this time.

"I think about all the ways I could’ve stopped it. If I had just been faster. If I had just paid more attention. If I had just—" He stops himself abruptly, his jaw clenching so hard that his teeth grind together, and for a moment, Jungkook can see the tension ripple through him like a wave crashing against the shore. The weight of his guilt is visible in every sharp line of his face.

Yoongi’s words hang in the air for a long moment, the silence stretching thin and tight between them. "But in the end," he mutters, voice barely above a whisper, almost too quiet to hear. "It doesn’t change anything."

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know how to fix this, or if it’s something that can be fixed at all. He just watches Yoongi, watches the way his hands shake ever so slightly, the way his body seems to collapse inward as if the sheer force of his thoughts is threatening to crush him under its weight. Jungkook feels his own breath hitch, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. The alpha isn’t just haunted by the accident, he’s suffocated by it.

Yoongi exhales shakily, and he presses his fingers against his temples, rubbing at them like he’s trying to erase the images that are still clinging to his mind, wrapping around him like tendrils that he can’t shake. His voice is low, almost hoarse, a rasp that feels like it’s been worn down by the weight of his nightmares.

"I can’t help it," he murmurs, his words barely audible, as if he’s speaking to himself more than to Jungkook. "I don’t want to see it. Don’t want to have those images in my head, but I can’t stop it." His breath hitches again, jagged and uneven. "Every time I close my eyes, it’s there, waiting for me."

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say to that. What words could possibly make this better? What could he offer to take away the torment Yoongi is living with, the fear that the nightmare might swallow him whole if he’s not careful? His chest tightens painfully as he watches Yoongi, the way he seems to shrink in on himself, as though the guilt and the helplessness have turned him into something smaller, more fragile than the strong, steady alpha Jungkook has always known.

"Some are worse because they’re memories and not a nightmares," Yoongi admits after a long pause, his voice rough with emotion that he’s fighting to keep contained. He stares at the fire, but his eyes don’t really see it. The flames flicker in the reflection of his pupils, but there’s nothing but shadows in the depths of his gaze.

"I keep seeing that scene. When I got Taehyung out." His breath shudders, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if the very memory of it is too much for him to bear. "The relief was… fuck, it was overwhelming. I thought it was over. I thought you were both safe."

Jungkook’s throat tightens, his own heart aching at the thought of Yoongi’s relief turning to despair, the weight of what he thought was the end of it all crashing into him with a force so sharp, it’s a wonder he’s still standing.

"I thought I saved you both," Yoongi continues, his voice shaking now, full of the rawness of the memory. "But when I looked down—" He pauses, and his breath hitches painfully, like the very act of speaking the words is forcing the nightmare back into his chest. "You weren't there." His hands tremble harder now, visibly shaking in his lap, and for a moment, it seems like the tremors are too much for him to control. "I only managed to grab Tae, Jungkook-ah. I didn’t… I didn't save you."

The words hit Jungkook like a physical blow, and he feels himself freeze. The vulnerability in Yoongi’s voice, the unbearable guilt that laces every syllable, cuts through him in ways he can’t explain. Yoongi is falling apart, and there’s nothing Jungkook can do to hold him together.

Yoongi doesn’t even seem to notice the way his body is trembling, how his fingers curl into fists, nails digging into the fabric of his pants in a desperate attempt to anchor himself to something solid. His breathing is uneven, ragged, like he’s struggling to keep himself from unraveling completely.

"I know it’s not real, I know you’re safe now," Yoongi says, his voice barely more than a breath, the words slipping out like a confession. "I know that. And I know the nightmares aren’t real. I’ve had enough of them to understand that they’re just… echoes of my fears."

He laughs bitterly, the sound low and hollow. "But knowing doesn’t make it feel any better." His eyes, glassy and distant, flicker briefly to Jungkook, and then back to the fire. "It doesn’t make it any better when it’s just me, alone with it, over and over again."

Jungkook feels a tightness in his chest, a deep ache that he can’t shake. Yoongi’s misery is so tangible, so raw, that it’s like it’s bleeding into the space between them, and Jungkook can feel it in his bones. Yoongi is breaking, piece by piece, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. All he can do is sit here and listen, to be the only thing anchoring Yoongi to this moment, to keep him tethered to the present and away from the nightmare that haunts him.

But even that doesn’t seem like enough. Not when Yoongi is so lost in the echoes of his own guilt and fear, drowning in the memories he can’t escape.

Jungkook doesn’t know how to fix this, how to make it go away, but he knows one thing for certain—he’s not going anywhere. Not while Yoongi needs him, even if the alpha doesn’t know how to ask for help. Even if the weight of his guilt is so heavy it threatens to break him, Jungkook won’t leave him alone with it. He’ll stay. And he’ll wait, as long as it takes, until Yoongi finds his way back to the surface.

"The last one was the worst. I got Taehyung out but you weren’t with him." Yoongi swallows hard, " I didn’t grip you tight enough." His voice drops to a whisper, like he doesn’t even want to say the words. "You slipped through my fingers, and I didn’t even realize it until it was too late. You were just… gone."

Jungkook feels his own throat close up.

Yoongi clenches his jaw, his eyes dark with something deep, something that looks like it’s been buried for far too long.

"I spent the whole night searching for you," he continues, voice barely above a breath. "Screaming your name. Looking for any sign of you. But you never answered." His lips press into a tight line, his shoulders rising with a slow, unsteady inhale. "No matter how long I searched, I never found you."

Silence stretches between them, thick and heavy.

"The guilt," Yoongi mutters finally, breaking the silence. "It's suffocating. Worse than anything else. Even when I woke up, I still felt like I had lost you." He lifts his gaze, meeting Jungkook’s eyes for the first time. "That’s why I had a drink. I just… I needed to settle my nerves. Needed something to make it stop."

Jungkook swallows, his heart aching at the sheer exhaustion in Yoongi’s expression. He’s seen the alpha be many things—strong, capable, in control. But this? This is the first time he’s ever seen him look so utterly worn down.

And Jungkook finds that he hates it.

Jungkook hesitates for only a moment. He wants to be closer, wants to give Yoongi something—comfort, warmth, anything to make that exhausted, haunted look in his eyes go away. But Yoongi is different from the others. He’s careful, closed off in ways that make Jungkook feel like he needs to ask first, to make sure he’s not overstepping.

So he does.

“Hyung,” Jungkook murmurs, voice soft in the quiet room. “Can I… can I get closer? Can I hug you?”

Yoongi looks at him, startled, like he wasn’t expecting that. But then his expression softens, and after a brief pause, he nods.

Jungkook doesn’t waste any time. He moves carefully, slow and deliberate, as if approaching a wounded animal. Yoongi stays still, watching him, waiting. Jungkook reaches out first, taking the alpha’s hand in his own. His fingers curl around Yoongi’s, squeezing gently.

Yoongi exhales, something easing in his posture.

Encouraged, Jungkook shifts closer, he climbs on the alpha’s lap and wraps his arms around Yoongi’s neck. He holds him carefully at first, mindful of the boundaries Yoongi usually keeps so firmly in place. But then he feels the way Yoongi melts, the way his body goes just a little less rigid, and something deep inside Jungkook warms at the thought that the alpha is letting him in.

Slowly, Yoongi raises his arms and returns the embrace.

They stay like that for a moment—silent, wrapped around each other, breathing in the steady comfort of each other's scents. Yoongi smells like dark sandalwood and lingering whiskey, but beneath it, there’s something deeper, something that makes Jungkook feel safe.

Jungkook feels the exact moment Yoongi lets go of whatever restraint he was holding onto.

Because suddenly, the alpha is gripping him tighter, holding him closer. One of Yoongi’s hands slides up to the back of his head, fingers tightening in his hair, anchoring him there. The other arm is firm around his waist, pressing him against Yoongi’s warmth.

Jungkook lets out a shaky breath, his own arms tightening instinctively in response. He grips the fabric of Yoongi’s sweater, burying his face into the alpha’s shoulder, and Yoongi breathes him in like he’s something grounding, something he needs.

And maybe he does.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to fill the silence.

Instead, he just holds on.

They stay like that for a long time, neither of them moving, just holding onto each other. The fire crackles beside them, casting soft flickers of light over the room, but all Jungkook really focuses on is the steady warmth of Yoongi against him.

At some point, Yoongi’s fingers start to comb through the strands of his hair, slow and rhythmic, a grounding motion that makes something deep in Jungkook’s chest loosen. He could fall asleep like this, he thinks. With his head tucked into the crook of Yoongi’s neck, where the alpha’s scent is the strongest—warm sandalwood and the faint trace of cinnamon.

He lets himself linger there, safe and content, before finally speaking.

“I was scared too hyung,” Jungkook murmurs against Yoongi’s skin. His voice is quiet but steady, carrying the weight of something he’s been holding inside. “I didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t want to lose any of you.”

Yoongi’s fingers pause in his hair for a moment before resuming their slow, comforting motions.

“We should’ve waited for you,” Jungkook continues, guilt pressing at the edges of his voice. “But we just… we saw the pup, and he was so small. He was crying, and he would’ve drowned if we didn’t—”

“I know,” Yoongi interrupts softly. His voice is rough, but there’s no anger in it. “I understand, Jungkook-ah. You have a good heart. I know why you did it.”

Jungkook exhales, closing his eyes.

“The pup is fine,” Yoongi continues after a moment. “We brought him back to his parents. He’s safe.”

That should bring Jungkook some relief, and in a way, it does. But it doesn’t erase the memory of the ice cracking beneath his feet, of the sheer terror that had gripped him when he felt himself falling.

“Don’t ever do something like that again,” Yoongi says, his voice a little firmer now, though it’s thick with emotion. “Jungkook, I—” He exhales sharply, grip tightening for a second. “I’ve rarely been that scared in my life.”

Jungkook pulls back slightly, just enough to look up at him. Yoongi’s face is illuminated by the fire, his eyes dark and intense. And there’s something raw there, something Jungkook isn’t used to seeing from him. Yoongi swallows, his jaw tightening. “Seeing you and Taehyung fall through the ice—” He shakes his head, his expression clouded. “I thought I was going to lose you both. And I—I’m sorry.”

Jungkook blinks, confused. “Sorry?”

Yoongi’s gaze flickers away for a second before he looks back at him, expression tight with guilt. “I only got Tae out. I didn’t save you. I should have—I should have held on tighter. I shouldn’t have let you slip.”

Jungkook stares at him for a moment, taking in the way Yoongi’s fists clench as if the memory still haunts him, as if he blames himself for something that was never his fault.

Slowly, Jungkook shakes his head.

“You don’t have to say sorry,” he says, voice gentle but firm. “You and Namjoon-hyung saved us. That’s what matters.”

Yoongi doesn’t answer right away, but after a long moment, he exhales, his shoulders sagging slightly. Jungkook squeezes his hand, letting his touch say the things he doesn’t have words for.

They’re okay.

They’re still here.

And that’s enough.

Jungkook feels it creeping up on him—the slow, drowsy warmth of exhaustion. It’s strange because when he first woke up, he had felt so awake, his body restless with the leftover remnants of sleep. But now, wrapped in Yoongi’s scent, pressed close against his steady warmth, Jungkook feels safe. Safe in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

And he doesn’t want to leave.

Yoongi shifts slightly, and Jungkook feels the soft rumble of his voice against him. “Come on,” the alpha murmurs. “Let’s get you back to the nest. It’s still early. I want you to rest more.”

But Jungkook doesn’t want to go back. Not when this small space they’ve created feels so much like a sanctuary. Not when the fire is still burning softly beside them, casting them in flickering light, and Yoongi’s warmth is the only thing keeping the cold at bay.

His fingers tighten around Yoongi before the alpha can pull away. He looks up at him, eyes wide and pleading, his voice barely above a whisper.

“No, stay with me,” he murmurs.

“Lie down with me. Just like this. Here.”

Something flickers in Yoongi’s expression, something unreadable, but then his body relaxes, his resistance melting away. He nods once, and before Jungkook can second-guess himself, Yoongi moves.

The alpha shifts, lifting him so that they can lie down on the couch, their bodies facing each other. The fire crackles behind them, wrapping them in its dim glow, and Yoongi tugs a blanket over them, making sure Jungkook is covered too.

Jungkook lets himself breathe.

His chest feels lighter, and for the first time in a while, the tightness in his ribs eases. He watches Yoongi through half-lidded eyes, the way the firelight dances over his features, the way his expression softens in the quiet.

Then, before he can overthink it, Jungkook reaches out.

He finds Yoongi’s hand in the space between them and laces their fingers together, needing to feel him.

Yoongi doesn’t pull away.

He just holds on.

Jungkook barely has time to process the warmth of Yoongi’s hand in his before the alpha moves again, reaching out. His fingers brush against Jungkook’s temple, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear with a touch so light, so careful, it sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine.

Heat rushes to his face.

It’s always like this with Yoongi. No matter how much time passes, the alpha always seems to have this effect on him—making his breath catch, making warmth bloom in his chest in ways he doesn’t quite understand yet.

Then Yoongi shifts, closing the remaining distance between them. His arms comes around Jungkook, solid and grounding, pulling him just close enough that their bodies press together, the heat between them humming like a quiet promise.

And then, softly, Yoongi speaks.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice quiet but heavy, like the words have been pressing down on him for too long. “For everything.”

Jungkook blinks, taken aback by the sudden confession.

Yoongi keeps going, his fingers unconsciously tightening around Jungkook’s. “I’m sorry for how I treated you when you first came here. For being cruel. For forcing you to talk about Sungil before you were ready. For telling you to leave that night.” His voice wavers slightly, and Jungkook’s heart clenches. “I’m so sorry for all of it. It’s been eating me alive.”

Jungkook swallows, lips parting to respond, but Yoongi isn’t finished.

“I need you to know that I’m not saying this because I feel like I have to. Or because… because we’re courting now,” Yoongi says, his tone raw with sincerity. “I’m saying it because you deserve to hear it. You deserve to have your suffering acknowledged. And I…” His throat bobs, and for a brief second, Jungkook thinks he sees a flash of pain in his eyes. “I was a part of it. A big part of it.”

The words hang between them, heavy and unshakable.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to put into words the storm of emotions rising in his chest, the sharp sting of old wounds mixing with the overwhelming relief of being seen—of being heard.

So instead, he just squeezes Yoongi’s hand. Holds on tighter. Yoongi’s voice is steady, but there’s an unshakable weight behind it, something raw and unyielding in the way he speaks.

“I’ll work every day of my life to make sure you never go through that again,” he murmurs, his breath warm against the space between them. His fingers twitch slightly, like he wants to grip Jungkook tighter but is holding himself back. “I’ll work hard so that you can trust me, so that I can be worthy of you.”

Jungkook feels his throat tighten.

Yoongi’s voice drops lower, filled with quiet intensity. “I’ll do everything I can to protect you. To make sure you’re safe. I swear it.” His fingers finally tighten over Jungkook’s hand, grounding both of them. “I’ll make sure I become an alpha you can rely on.”

Something inside Jungkook shifts at the words.

The promise lingers in the air, steady and unwavering, and Jungkook doesn’t think before he moves. He presses in closer, closing the last bit of distance between them until he’s nestled fully against Yoongi’s chest, his face tucked beneath the alpha’s chin. The steady beat of Yoongi’s heart thrums against his ear, strong and reassuring.

The hand covering his squeezes gently.

Jungkook exhales softly, letting himself sink into the warmth. And then, in a voice laced with something sweet and unguarded, he speaks.

“I forgive you.”

Yoongi stills.

Jungkook presses in further, letting his fingers curl slightly against Yoongi’s chest. “I understand,” he murmurs. “And you should forgive yourself too hyung.”

He feels Yoongi exhale, long and slow, as if trying to release something that has been weighing him down.

Jungkook bites his lip, gathering his courage. Then, with a quiet hesitance, he speaks again, voice small but certain. “I… I like you hyung.” His heart hammers against his ribs, but he pushes through, gripping the fabric of Yoongi’s shirt lightly. “Thank you for saving me.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Yoongi’s arms tighten around him, pulling him in just the slightest bit closer. And then, in a voice softer than Jungkook has ever heard, the alpha murmurs against his hair.

“I like you too pup. So much it hurts.”

Jungkook barely registers the words before sleep starts pulling him under.

Yoongi’s warmth wrapping around him like a promise.

Notes:

Hey!! 😆

Poor Kookie and Yoongi, having to deal with nightmares! 😭💔

I swear, there's just something about Yoongi that makes me go absolutely feral haha! 😩🔥 He’s so quiet, but ughhh, it just does something to me! 🤭💖

Also, I’m so happy he got to apologize to Jungkook one-on-one. You know he’s going to carry that guilt forever for how he treated Kookie when he first arrived, but at least he got to hear that Jungkook forgave him. 🥺💞

Hope you guys are doing well! 💕✨

Chapter 39: The Calm After

Summary:

Jungkook wakes up in Yoongi's arms

Jungkook stirs at the faint sound of hushed voices, his mind hazy, floating somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. There’s a hand in his hair, fingers threading through the strands with slow, deliberate motions, and the sensation is so soothing that he instinctively leans into it, chasing the warmth.

Everything feels soft—his body cocooned in layers of blankets, the steady rise and fall of the chest beneath his cheek, the faint, familiar scent of sandalwood and something distinctly Yoongi wrapping around him like a lullaby.

He could stay like this forever.

But then, through the fog of lingering sleep, he hears something—his name. It’s spoken softly, like a gentle nudge, coaxing him toward wakefulness. There’s another name, too, murmured somewhere close by.

“Yoongi.”

Jungkook’s brows knit together faintly, confusion flickering through his sluggish mind. Why were they calling Yoongi? Why were they calling him? He blinks against the weight of drowsiness, cracking his eyes open just enough to be met with the soft glow of morning light filtering through the common area. It takes him a moment to piece everything together—to remember where he is, why he feels so warm, why his body is tangled in Yoongi’s.

And then it all comes rushing back.

The night before. The quiet, heavy words spoken in the dim firelight. The vulnerability in Yoongi’s voice, the way he had stayed awake, unable to rest after his nightmares. Jungkook remembers falling asleep with him, his arms secure, protective, as though keeping Jungkook close could keep the bad dreams away. Jungkook hadn’t hesitated to stay, to let himself be cradled in that warmth, listening as Yoongi—so guarded, so reserved—let himself be open, let himself lean on Jungkook for just a little while.

The thought of it should make him shy, should have his cheeks burning with embarrassment, but instead, all he feels is something deep and aching in his chest. He doesn’t want to move. Doesn’t want to leave this quiet, safe space where Yoongi’s presence is wrapped around him like something unshakable.

So, he makes a noise of protest—small, sleepy, petulant—and nuzzles himself deeper against Yoongi’s chest.

There’s a beat of silence before a warm chuckle breaks through the air, light and teasing.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Jin muses, and there’s so much fond amusement in his voice that Jungkook doesn’t even have to look to know he’s smirking. “You’d rather stay in Yoongi’s arms, hum? That’s cute Kookie but it’s already late. You need to get up and eat, especially after what happened. I don't want to take any chances with your health."

Jungkook groans, barely lifting his head before flopping back down, squeezing his eyes shut like a child refusing to wake up for school. The reaction only makes the laughter around him grow, soft chortles from the others mixing in with Jin’s playful chiding.

Someone nudges his foot under the blankets—probably Hoseok, judging by the warmth of his scent. “Come on, Kookie, don’t make us drag you out of there,” he teases, though there’s no real threat behind it.

Jungkook whines again, hiding his face, but the warmth of his pack lingers around him, familiar and safe. Even as the teasing continues, even as they try to pull him from his comfortable cocoon, he doesn’t feel the overwhelming weight of panic or loneliness pressing down on him.

No, all he feels is warmth. Steady, unwavering warmth.

Jungkook barely registers Hoseok’s voice at first, still stubbornly burrowed into the blankets, but then Seokjin joins in, his tone firm but affectionate.

“We let you two sleep in for a while,” Jin says, arms crossed as he looks down at them with an air of amused patience. “But you missed breakfast, and we’re not about to let you starve, so come on. It’s lunchtime, at least.”

Jungkook stirs but barely moves, his body still heavy with sleep as he nestles closer to the warmth surrounding him. He pouts, reluctant to leave the cozy nest, but then he feels Yoongi shift beneath him, a quiet sigh slipping past the alpha’s lips. A strong arm tightens around his waist, pulling him in just a little closer, and then a deep, sleepy voice rumbles against his hair.

“Mm… hi, pup,” Yoongi mumbles, voice still thick with sleep. He nuzzles lightly against Jungkook’s head before pressing a drowsy kiss to his forehead. “Did you sleep well?”

Jungkook hums softly in response, his eyes still half-lidded, too comfortable to form real words just yet. He feels Yoongi’s hand rub slow, soothing circles against his back, his warmth seeping into Jungkook’s skin.

“You were shivering last night,” Yoongi murmurs after a moment, his voice quieter now, laced with concern. His fingers trace lightly over Jungkook’s arm, checking for any lingering chill. “Are you still cold?”

Jungkook blinks slowly, shifting slightly to tuck himself further into Yoongi’s embrace. “No,” he mumbles, his voice muffled against Yoongi’s chest. “You’re warm hyung.”

Yoongi huffs out a sleepy chuckle, his grip tightening once more. “Good.” Another lazy kiss, this time against Jungkook’s temple. “We can stay like this a little longer…”

Jungkook nods against him, eyes fluttering shut again. There’s no real urgency between them—just shared reluctance, like they both know they have to get up but would rather savor this warmth for as long as they can. But eventually, the moment starts to slip away, the pull of the day tugging at them.

Yoongi sighs again, shifting slightly. “Come on, pup. Before someone comes in here and drags us out by force.”

Jungkook groans in protest but finally moves, peeling himself from the comfortable pile of blankets. Yoongi stretches with a quiet grunt beside him before ruffling Jungkook’s hair, his touch lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

With heavy limbs and lingering sleepiness, they shuffle toward the table, carrying the warmth of the morning with them.

As Jungkook settles into his seat, he notices that everyone is already gathered. The room is filled with soft conversation and the gentle clatter of dishes.

Jungkook barely has time to fully wake before he’s being pulled from the nest of warmth and right into Jimin’s arms. The omega lets out a high, dramatic whine as he wraps himself around Jungkook, pressing close, his fingers gripping at the fabric of his shirt.

“Jungkookie,” Jimin whines, squeezing him tightly. The force of it makes Jungkook stumble slightly, but before he can even react, another weight presses against him from behind—Taehyung, draping himself over Jungkook’s back, his chin resting on his shoulder.

“You weren’t next to us when we woke up,” Taehyung murmurs, his voice still thick with sleep, words slow and drawn out like he’s only just recovering from the shock. His hold tightens, fingers curling against Jungkook’s waist as if to reassure himself that he’s really there.

Jimin pulls back just enough to look at him, lips pushed into a deep pout. “We were scared,” he admits, his lower lip jutting out. “The nest felt empty without you.”

Jungkook’s heart squeezes at their words, guilt creeping in. He hadn’t meant to worry them—hadn’t even considered how they might feel waking up to find him gone. His shoulders drop slightly as he lets out a soft, sheepish sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice small. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. I just—”

Jimin shakes his head before Jungkook can even finish, and Taehyung nuzzles against his shoulder, a low hum vibrating against his skin.

“We’re not mad,” Jimin assures him, though his pout lingers for another beat before his eyes soften, lips curving into something more playful. “But… you and Yoongi-hyung were so cute sleeping together. So we’ll forgive you.”

Jungkook barely has time to process what that even means before he feels the gentle press of lips against his skin. It’s soft, fleeting, but enough to send a rush of heat blooming across his face.

Jimin and Taehyung press twin kisses to the claiming marks on his neck—the bites still tender, still feeling foreign in some ways, but undeniably real. Jungkook shivers, breath hitching at the delicate touch.

“You’re ours,” Jimin breathes, reverence woven into the syllables. His fingers ghost over the marks as if to commit them to memory, as if he still can’t believe they’re there.

“We still can’t believe it,” Taehyung murmurs, his voice quiet, full of wonder. “When I woke up, I honestly thought it had all been a dream.”

Jungkook swallows, his heart pounding against his ribs. He can’t find the words to respond, can only stand there, warmth flooding his entire being as Jimin and Taehyung hold him close, their scents wrapping around him like a comforting cocoon.

Jungkook’s breath catches, a wave of warmth blooming in his chest and crawling up his neck in the form of a deep, rosy flush. His fingers curl into the fabric of his sleeve, his gaze dropping to his lap in sheer embarrassment.

And then he realizes—everyone is watching him.

His heart stutters, panic threatening to rise for half a second before he dares to glance up. But instead of judgment, instead of anger or disapproval, all he finds are warm smiles. Fond, knowing looks. Even Yoongi—who still looks like he’s half-asleep where he sits—has a small, barely-there smirk on his lips.

Jungkook swallows thickly, overwhelmed but not in a bad way. No one is upset. No one is looking at him like he’s done something wrong.

They’re happy.

His pack is happy for him.

Seokjin exhales dramatically, shaking his head as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The corners of his lips twitch upward in amusement, but his voice carries a weight of faux disappointment as he addresses Jimin and Taehyung.

“You know,” he starts, dragging out the words as he glances between the two omegas, “you could have at least taken him out on a proper date before attacking him like that.”

Jungkook, still pink-cheeked from their earlier affections, chokes on nothing, sputtering as he reaches for his cup of water. Meanwhile, Jimin and Taehyung both turn toward Jin, eyes widening slightly before narrowing in offense.

“Attacking him?” Jimin echoes, indignant. “Hyung, it wasn’t like that.”

Taehyung nods fervently, lips pursed as he lifts his chin. “It was the right moment,” he insists, unwavering. “It couldn’t have been more perfect.”

Jimin gestures animatedly, eyes shining with conviction as he continues. “Exactly! The timing, the atmosphere—everything just felt right. We weren’t going to wait just for the sake of waiting.”

Jungkook shifts in his seat, still feeling the weight of everyone’s gazes on him, his face growing impossibly warmer as the conversation continues. It’s not that he disagrees with them—because he doesn’t. He feels it too, the certainty in his chest that tells him what happened between them wasn’t rushed or reckless. But hearing them argue about it like this, in front of everyone, makes his stomach twist with something both flustered and oddly pleased.

Hoseok hums from his spot across the table, his lips curling into a teasing smirk as he props his chin in his palm. “Still,” he muses, eyes glinting with mischief as he shifts his gaze to Jimin, “you didn’t stop there, did you, Jiminie?”

Jimin stills, wary. “…What do you mean?”

Hoseok’s smirk deepens. “I mean,” he drawls, dragging out the words, “you had to go and mark Taehyungie, too. Even though he's already yours.”

Jimin’s breath catches slightly, and Jungkook watches as a faint flush dusts his cheeks. He tries to school his expression into something neutral, but it’s a futile effort, especially when Seokjin jumps in with an exaggerated gasp.

“Oh, you’re right, Hobi,” Jin chimes in, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he leans forward. “Jiminie really went all dominant, didn’t he? Had to make sure his babies were properly marked.”

Jimin’s face is fully red now, his lips pressing into a thin line as he shrinks into his seat. “Hyung,” he grits out, his voice carrying a warning that only makes the others grin wider.

Taehyung, unbothered as ever, simply lets out a pleased hum, tilting his head as he reaches for Jimin’s hand. “I mean… he’s not wrong,” he says, and there’s something both playful and sincere in his tone. “You did claim us.”

Jungkook, still drowning in the remnants of his own embarrassment, sneaks a glance at Jimin, taking in the way his hyung fidgets slightly under their attention. But then Jimin exhales slowly, shoulders relaxing as he lifts his chin, determination replacing his previous shyness.

“Yes,” Jimin admits, his voice steady now, unwavering. “After everything… I had to.”

His fingers curl around Taehyung’s hand, his other hand reaching for Jungkook’s. He gives them both a squeeze, his gaze flickering between them with something warm and certain. “I had to make you mine.”

The teasing quiets at that, replaced by something softer—something understanding. And Jungkook, heart thundering in his chest, realizes that no matter how flustered he feels, no matter how overwhelming everything is, there’s no place he’d rather be.

Namjoon clears his throat, his deep voice settling over the group with a weight that immediately commands their attention. His gaze, warm yet firm, lands on Taehyung and Jungkook, and the atmosphere shifts subtly—no longer teasing, no longer light. There's a seriousness in the way he looks at them, an unspoken expectation lingering in the air.

“We need to talk about what happened,” Namjoon says, his tone calm but leaving no room for avoidance. “You both need to share your thoughts. All of us do.” He glances at the others, acknowledging their silent support before returning his gaze to the two youngest. “I’m not here to scold you,” he assures, his expression softening slightly, “but you have to understand the implications of what you did. The risks you took.”

Jungkook swallows, feeling the warmth of Taehyung’s hand brush against his beneath the table. They don’t need to look at each other to know they’re thinking the same thing—that Namjoon is right. That what happened wasn’t something they could just move past without talking about it. So they nod, their chests tight as they prepare to relive the moment.

Namjoon watches them carefully before gesturing for them to begin. “Tell us what happened. From the start.”

Jungkook exhales slowly, his fingers curling slightly against his knee. “We were… trying to hide,” he begins, his voice quiet at first. “Together. We didn’t want to be found easily, so we ran. We went to the river, but…” He hesitates, glancing at Taehyung. “We didn’t expect it to be so agitated. So loud.”

Taehyung picks up where Jungkook trails off, his voice carrying the remnants of the fear they’d felt. “And then we heard it,” he says, his fingers twitching against the table. “The pup crying.”

The room is silent, everyone listening intently, but neither Taehyung nor Jungkook can bring themselves to meet their hyungs’ eyes. It feels different saying it out loud—more real, more raw.

“We panicked,” Jungkook admits, rubbing his thumb against his palm absentmindedly. “We didn’t know what to do. We argued about going on the ice.” He exhales sharply. “Taehyungie-hyung wanted to go alone.”

“I thought it would be safer,” Taehyung interjects, his voice quieter now, a tinge of regret laced in his words. “I thought if anything happened, it should be me. Not Kookie. Because he's human.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “But I wouldn’t let him so we argued a little about it,” he says firmly, and it’s obvious that even now, he still stands by that choice. “I couldn’t let him go alone.”

They both fall silent for a moment, the weight of their actions pressing heavy against them.

“We knew it was dangerous,” Taehyung finally murmurs, looking down at his hands. “But we wanted to save the pup. We had to save him. He was so scared.”

Taehyung recounts everything in a hushed yet urgent voice, his expression troubled as he relives the moment. “We got to him in time,” he murmurs, eyes flickering with the weight of it. “I managed to push him toward the riverbank, but the ice…” He swallows, his fingers curling into the fabric of his clothes as if he can still feel the fragile surface cracking beneath him. “It was too thin—too weak under me and Kookie. We barely had a second to react after you arrived before it started to give way.”

Jungkook nods, his throat tightening. “And then… we fell.”

The words hang in the air like a heavy fog, settling into the spaces between them. Neither of them dares to look up, waiting instead for Namjoon’s response—for the reaction of the pack. Because no matter how much they had believed in what they were doing at the time, they can’t ignore what it led to. The risk. The consequences. And the fear it had left behind—not just for them, but for everyone.

Namjoon hums softly, the sound thoughtful rather than reprimanding. His sharp eyes scan over the two youngest, but there’s no anger in his gaze, only a quiet understanding, laced with a hint of lingering concern. He exhales slowly before speaking, his voice low and steady, carrying the weight of his authority yet remaining gentle.

“First of all,” he begins, “the pup is safe. He’s back with his parents now.” His words are meant to reassure, to remove any lingering worry from their minds, but they don’t quite ease the tension in Jungkook’s chest. The guilt is still there, sitting heavily on his shoulders. “I understand why you did it,” Namjoon continues, his tone softer now, “and I won’t deny that it was brave. But you should have called for help.”

His gaze shifts to Taehyung then, sharp and questioning. “Why didn’t you use our mind link Tae-ah?”

Taehyung flinches slightly, the weight of Namjoon’s attention pressing down on him. His lips part, but for a moment, no words come out. He fidgets under the table, eyes flickering to Jungkook before he finally forces out a quiet, “It's dumb. I… I didn’t even think about it.”

His fingers clench into the fabric of his pants, his voice tinged with frustration—not at Namjoon, but at himself. “I... I panicked, and we started arguing. Before I even realized it, we were already on the ice. The only thing I could think about was saving the pup and keeping Kookie safe." Taehyung’s voice drops to a whisper, guilt lacing his words as he glances up. "I’m so sorry, hyungie.”

Namjoon exhales through his nose, nodding as if he expected that answer. “That’s exactly why you have to train yourself to remember,” he says, his voice firm but not unkind. “The mind link exists for situations like this. We need to know immediately when something happens—especially something this dangerous pup.”

Taehyung nods quickly, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry, hyungie. I’ll remember next time.”

Namjoon studies him for a moment longer before finally shifting his focus to Jungkook. His gaze softens just a little, but the concern in his voice remains.

“And you,” he says, leveling Jungkook with a look that makes his breath hitch slightly. “I know why you didn’t let Taehyung go alone. I understand.” His eyes search Jungkook’s, as if trying to make sure he truly hears what he’s about to say. “But next time, you need to listen to him.”

Jungkook stiffens, his instinctual stubbornness flaring, but Namjoon continues before he can protest.

“Taehyung is older,” he reminds him. “He’s a shifter. He can handle the cold better. He can heal faster.” His voice is gentle, but there’s an unyielding edge beneath it. “I’m not saying one of you is more important than the other. That’s not what this is about.”

Jungkook swallows hard, his fingers gripping his own wrist beneath the table.

“But Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon says, softer now, yet somehow even more serious. “You have to remember—you’re human.”

The words hit him like a cold gust of wind, knocking the air from his lungs. He knows it. Of course, he knows it. He’s been reminded of it again and again, in so many ways. But hearing it like this, from Namjoon, with so much weight behind it—it stings.

He looks down at his lap, lips pressing together. He knows Namjoon isn’t scolding him. Knows he’s just trying to keep him safe. But a small, irrational part of him still aches at the reminder that he will never be like them. That he will always be more breakable. More fragile.

Namjoon must notice the way his shoulders drop, the way he tucks his hands into his sleeves, because his voice softens even further. “I just don’t want to lose any of you, Jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook’s chest tightens. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he only nods. Namjoon sighs, his large hands coming together on the table as he looks at the two youngest. His gaze is steady—firm but not unkind—as he continues, voice calm and measured.

“We knew something was wrong,” he tells them, his words carrying a weight that makes Jungkook’s stomach twist. “We could feel it. But we couldn’t get to you fast enough.”

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat. He can feel Taehyung stiffen beside him, the guilt thick between them like a dense fog.

“The mind link wasn’t used, and the river—” Namjoon pauses, his jaw tightening for the briefest moment before he exhales through his nose. “The river made it nearly impossible to reach you.” His voice dips lower, something raw and unspoken threading through his tone. “Do you know how helpless that made us feel?”

Jungkook swallows hard, his fingers curling into his sleeves. He doesn’t dare look up.

Namjoon lets the words settle before he speaks again. “I understand why you chose the river,” he admits. “I get it. You thought it would be frozen. You thought it would be safe.” His gaze sweeps over them, his expression softening just a little. “But the moment you realized it wasn’t? The moment you saw even the slightest risk?” His voice dips, steady and unwavering. “You should’ve left.”

Jungkook bites his lip, a sharp sting pressing behind his eyes. He knows. He knows Namjoon is right.

“You were brave,” Namjoon tells them, his voice warmer now, though no less serious. “But never—never—go about a situation like that ever again. If there is even a fraction of a doubt, you call for help. You understand?”

Neither Jungkook nor Taehyung can bring themselves to answer right away. Their heads are bowed, hands clenched in their laps, their chests tight with guilt.

Jungkook’s throat feels clogged, and when he blinks, his vision goes blurry. He doesn’t want to cry, but the weight of it all—the fear, the mistake, the way they had made their pack worry—it crushes down on him like a landslide. They're so lucky to be alive. He chances a glance at Taehyung, sees his hyung blinking rapidly, his lips pressed tight. They don’t need words to know they feel the same.

Namjoon watches them, his expression growing even softer. There’s a warmth in his gaze, but also something aching, something heavy. His shoulders tense, as if he’s holding himself back from pulling them in, from shielding them from the weight of their own guilt.

“Come here,” he murmurs, voice nothing but warm, grounding reassurance.

Jungkook and Taehyung don’t hesitate. They move as if drawn by an invisible force, practically scrambling from their seats and into Namjoon’s arms, seeking comfort, seeking absolution. Namjoon pulls them in without hesitation, his strong arms encircling them both, holding them close. Jungkook barely has time to process before he’s being guided onto Namjoon’s lap, Taehyung tucked against the alpha’s other side.

The warmth is immediate, the scent of home wrapping around them—deep woods and something soothing, something grounding. It settles the ache in their chests, chases away the last remnants of fear still clinging to their bones.

Namjoon exhales slowly, pressing a firm, steadying hand against Jungkook’s back, another curling around Taehyung’s nape. His touch is solid, warm, a tether keeping them anchored. “You’re safe now,” he murmurs, voice quieter, meant only for them. “That’s what matters most.”

Jungkook shudders, fists tightening in the fabric of Namjoon’s shirt as he buries himself closer. Taehyung presses his face into the alpha’s shoulder, his breath shaky, his fingers clinging just as desperately. Neither of them says anything. They don’t need to.

Namjoon lets them stay like that for a moment, rubbing slow, reassuring circles against their backs. But then he sighs, his grip tightening just slightly. “I don’t want to force you to talk about it,” he says, his voice careful, measured. “I know it must have been terrifying for you both. But…” His throat bobs, and when he speaks again, his voice is thicker, rougher with emotion.

“You scared us. Out of our minds. The sight of you on the ice, slipping—falling into the water—” He cuts himself off, jaw tightening, as if the memory alone is too much to bear.

Jungkook swallows hard, his stomach twisting. He hadn’t seen their faces when it happened, hadn’t been able to, too lost in the moment. But hearing Namjoon now—he can picture it. The sheer horror they must have felt. The helplessness.

Namjoon takes a slow breath, his arms around them unyielding. “That image… it’s going to haunt all of us for a long time,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “And getting your temperature back up, Jungkook-ah—” He shakes his head, expression darkening. “You’re human. Your body doesn’t regulate the same way ours does. You weren’t warming up fast enough” His breath stutters for the briefest second before he swallows it down, composing himself.

Jungkook stiffens, guilt sinking deep in his gut. He hadn’t even thought about that. He remembers the unbearable cold, the way his limbs had refused to cooperate, the exhaustion pulling him under. But he hadn’t realized just how much danger he’d been in.

“And you, Tae,” Namjoon continues, his hand shifting up to cup the omega’s nape, his thumb stroking gently. “You could have drowned too. If things had gone just a little differently—” He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t need to. The weight of what could have happened lingers in the silence.

Jungkook and Taehyung both remain quiet, pressed against Namjoon, their throats too tight with guilt to speak.

Namjoon sighs again, his voice softer now, though no less firm. “We were guarding the nest all night, taking turns” he tells them. “We couldn’t sleep, couldn’t even step away the first few hours. Just the thought of something happening while we weren’t watching…” He shakes his head, expression tight. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so afraid.”

Jungkook feels a lump forming in his throat. He hadn’t realized—hadn’t understood just how much distress they’d put their pack through. The guilt is a heavy thing, pressing against his ribs, making it harder to breathe.

Namjoon exhales, his grip on them steady but unyielding. “I’m forbidding you from ever doing something like this again,” he says, voice gentle but resolute. “No more reckless risks. No more putting yourselves in danger like that. Do you understand?”

Jungkook and Taehyung both nod instantly, not even thinking to argue. They don’t want to feel this guilt again. Don’t want to see the lingering fear in Namjoon’s eyes.

Namjoon sighs, pressing a lingering kiss to Jungkook’s hair, then another to Taehyung’s temple. “Good,” he murmurs. “Because I don’t think I could survive another night like that.”

Namjoon simply holds them then, letting them breathe, letting them know—without a single doubt—that he is not angry, that they are not alone.

Namjoon doesn’t let them go—not even when Seokjin sets the food in front of them, not when the others settle back down to eat. If anything, he holds them closer, a silent reassurance that they are still safe.

The meal is warm, filling, and comforting in a way that has nothing to do with the food itself. Namjoon feeds them himself, his hands steady as he lifts pieces of meat and rice to their lips. The action is instinctual, automatic, as if his body simply knows that taking care of them like this is the only thing that matters.

“Eat, little ones,” he murmurs, voice gentle, yet firm enough to leave no room for argument.

Jungkook listens, his lips parting to accept the bite Namjoon offers, chewing slowly. Taehyung does the same, his gaze downcast, still subdued by the lingering weight of their mistake. Neither of them speaks, but Namjoon doesn’t push. He simply continues, offering them food with the kind of patience only an alpha can have for his pack.

The others watch quietly, some sharing knowing glances. They don’t interfere. They don’t tease, not even Seokjin. Because they understand. When the last bite is eaten, Namjoon finally lowers his hand, brushing stray crumbs from Jungkook’s lips with his thumb, then doing the same for Taehyung.

For a moment, the room is silent.

Then, slowly, Jungkook and Taehyung move in unison, their bodies seeking the same thing, the same comfort. They press close, tucking their heads against Namjoon’s broad shoulders, curling into the warmth of him as if they could burrow their guilt away.

Namjoon lets them. He shifts just enough to accommodate them, one arm curling around Jungkook, the other resting lightly against the back of Taehyung’s head. His touch is firm, steady—anchoring.

The words slip out before either of them can stop them, barely above a whisper.

“We’re sorry hyung.”

They say it together, voices overlapping, trembling with the weight of everything they feel. Namjoon exhales, long and slow, before pressing a kiss to the crown of each of their heads.

“Never scare us like that again. We all spent the night worrying about you two.” he murmurs, the warmth of his breath threading through their hair, settling deep into their bones.

They both nod, pressing closer, hands curling into the fabric of his clothes as if to keep themselves grounded.

“We won’t,” they swear, voices soft but certain.

Namjoon tightens his hold for a brief moment before finally relaxing, the tension in his shoulders melting away.

And just like that, the weight of their guilt lifts—eased by the warmth of their alpha’s embrace, by the quiet, unspoken promise that no matter what, they are forgiven.

Namjoon’s voice carries the weight of responsibility as he speaks to the pack, his deep tone steady but filled with a gentle command. "We'll stay home today, all of us. We need to settle, let everything calm down after what happened," he says, his gaze shifting from Jungkook to the others, making sure his words are understood. "Especially you, Jungkook-ah. You've got fresh claiming bites. Your instincts need time to adjust, to settle."

Jungkook’s heart races at the mention of the bites, his face flushing with embarrassment. He shifts uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to his lap. He feels a warm wave of self-consciousness rise within him. The claiming marks, so fresh and raw, are a constant reminder of what’s happened—and what’s still happening inside him. But the truth is, he does need the time. It’s not just his body reacting, it’s his mind and heart too. His fingers twist together as he nods quietly, not trusting his voice to be steady.

Taehyung breaks the tension with his usual mischievous grin. “Can we have cake after dinner tonight?” he asks with a playful sparkle in his eyes, turning toward Seokjin, knowing exactly how to get a rise out of him.

Seokjin’s lips twitch into a smile, eyes soft with affection for his younger packmate. “If that’s what my pup wants,” he says, voice rich with teasing warmth. “I’ll bake it for you, but you’ll have to wait until after dinner.”

Jungkook can’t help but smile at the exchange between Taehyung and Seokjin. It’s comforting, like a piece of normalcy that wraps itself around his heart. The laughter and teasing feel like a blanket, softening the weight of the events that still linger in his mind. But as the idea of cake settles in, something stirs inside him—an unspoken desire. He’s never baked a cake before, not even once. The thought of learning something new, something simple, brings a little spark of excitement to his chest.

Seokjin sighs "Well we need eggs for this cake, and we're out." He exhales dramatically before turning to the others. "I'll make a quick trip to the trading market and be right back."

Jungkook, who had been looking forward to spending the day at home with everyone, hesitates for a moment. He doesn’t really want to leave, not after everything that’s happened. But at the same time, he hasn’t had the chance to really spend time with Seokjin yet. Something about that tugs at him, an ache of longing nestled deep in his chest. He wants to go.

"Hyung," he says hesitantly, stepping closer. "Can I come with you?"

Seokjin blinks in surprise, tilting his head. "Are you sure, Jungkookie? I'd prefer it if you just rested today and I’ll be quick anyway."

The moment the words are out, the alphas turn their attention to Jungkook, their scents shifting with concern. Namjoon speaks first, his voice gentle yet firm. "You don’t have to push yourself, Jungkook-ah. You’ve been through a lot. I don’t want you too far from me—"

"I want to hyung, I promise I’ll be careful.  I’ll stay with hyung." Jungkook interrupts, voice soft but determined. He glances at Seokjin again. "I really want to go with you, Seokjin-hyung."

The room is quiet for a beat, the tension thick between them. The hyungs clearly unwilling to let him out of their sight, not after everything the incident yesterday. And truthfully, Jungkook doesn’t want to be out of their sight either. But this is Seokjin. Sweet, warm, safe Seokjin.

At last, Namjoon sighs, rubbing his temple before nodding. "Alright. But you both be careful. And don’t be gone too long. I want both of you back as soon a possible."

Seokjin smiles, reaching out to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. "Of course, of course. I wouldn’t let anything happen to our precious Jungkookie."

In record time, the two of them are bundled up in thick layers, scarves wrapped snugly around their necks, and heading down the well-trodden path toward the trading markets. The cold air is crisp against their skin, biting at their exposed cheeks and noses, but it’s not unpleasant—it’s the kind of cold that wakes up the senses, fresh and invigorating. Their breath escapes in soft puffs of white, dissipating into the morning air as they walk.

Seokjin walks beside Jungkook with an easy confidence, his strides relaxed and measured, as if he doesn’t have a single worry in the world. His hands are tucked into the folds of his cloak, his shoulders loose despite the cold, and every now and then, he hums softly under his breath—an old tune, something warm and familiar. Jungkook listens, the sound filling the quiet morning air like a comforting presence.

Jungkook exhales, letting himself relax just a little. The path beneath their boots is packed with snow, worn down by the steady passage of villagers and traders alike, and the occasional crunch of ice breaking underfoot punctuates the otherwise peaceful quiet.

Birds flit between the bare branches above, their calls sharp and clear against the stillness, and in the distance, he can hear the faint sounds of the village waking up—doors opening, muffled conversations carried by the wind, the occasional bark of a restless hound.

The walk to the trading market is a long one, nearly half an hour from the village, but with Seokjin by his side, the time seems to pass effortlessly.

The crisp morning air carries the scent of damp earth and pine, and every so often, the distant call of a bird echoes through the trees. Jungkook feels strangely at ease. There’s no urgency, no fear weighing him down—just the rhythmic crunch of their footsteps against the frosted ground and the warmth of Seokjin’s presence beside him.

Seokjin is a natural storyteller, and before long, he’s talking about his childhood, about the dreams he once had and how they had shifted over time.

"You know," he begins, glancing over at Jungkook with a small smile, "when I was a pup, I wanted to be a hunter. I used to imagine myself running through the forest, tracking down prey, being strong and fearless like the alphas. I wanted to protect the pack, to be someone that others could rely on." He laughs then, shaking his head.

"But it didn’t take long for me to realize that I’m not exactly cut out for that kind of life. Too delicate, too slow, too… easily distracted by pretty things."

Jungkook tilts his head, intrigued. "You think you’re delicate?" he asks, glancing at Seokjin’s strong, capable hands. They’re healer’s hands, gentle yet firm, but Jungkook has also seen the way they move with certainty, with a quiet strength that speaks of someone who knows exactly how to take care of others.

Seokjin hums. "Not in the way you might think. I mean, I can handle myself, sure, but I don’t have the instincts of a hunter. I hate seeing anything suffer, even the animals we hunt for food. The first time I ever went on a hunting trip, I cried when they killed a deer." He sighs, running a hand through his dark hair.

"That’s when I knew I wasn’t meant to be out there. My place was in the infirmary, helping to heal instead of harm. And I don’t regret it, you know? It hurts to see people in pain, but there’s nothing more rewarding than knowing I helped them get better."

Jungkook listens intently, taking in every word. He understands that feeling—the need to be useful, to have a purpose. He wonders what his own place in the pack is supposed to be. Right now, he’s just a human trying to find his footing, but will there come a day when he, too, finds a role that feels right?

Seokjin continues, his voice turning a little softer, more thoughtful. "I met Joonie when we were pups, you know. He was this tiny little thing with these big, intelligent eyes and a ridiculous amount of confidence for a child. He told me, on the very first day we met, that he was going to court me one day."

Jungkook blinks, a little surprised. "Really?"

Seokjin laughs, nodding. "Really. I thought he was just a silly pup talking nonsense. I saw him as a little brother, someone I needed to look after. And honestly, for the longest time, I didn’t take his feelings seriously. He was always following me around, always watching me with those thoughtful eyes, always finding little excuses to be close to me. But I just thought—well, I thought he would grow out of it."

Jungkook is quiet, waiting for him to continue. There’s something in Seokjin’s voice, something warm and nostalgic, but also tinged with a hint of regret.

"It wasn’t until we got older that I realized how wrong I was," Seokjin admits. "One day, Namjoon just… cornered me. He wasn’t a pup anymore—he was an alpha, tall and strong, and suddenly, I wasn’t looking at a little brother anymore. He told me that he couldn’t stand it any longer, that he needed me to understand how much he loved me. That he wanted me as his mate."

Jungkook exhales, enraptured by the story. "What did you do?"

Seokjin smiles, but there’s a faint blush on his cheeks. "I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say. And then, before I could even think, he kissed me." He presses a hand to his lips, as if reliving the moment. "It was the kind of kiss that leaves you breathless, the kind that makes you realize everything you’ve been blind to. And that’s when I knew—I had never been looking at him as a little brother. I had been looking at him as someone I cared about, someone I wanted, but I had been too stubborn to admit it."

Jungkook stares at him, heart fluttering at the idea of Namjoon being so bold. He can’t imagine the quiet, thoughtful alpha doing something so forward, but at the same time… he can. Because Namjoon is steady and determined, and when he wants something, he doesn’t let it slip away.

"After that," Seokjin continues, "I stopped pretending. I let myself see Namjoon for what he was—the best thing that ever happened to me. And now, I can’t imagine my life without him."

Jungkook feels a strange warmth settle in his chest, something that makes his heart ache in the best way. He doesn’t know if he’s ever had someone look at him like that, with that kind of unwavering devotion. And maybe, a small part of him wonders if he ever will.

Seokjin chuckles, the sound light and playful as he turns to Jungkook with a teasing glint in his eyes. "You know," he begins, his voice dropping into a mock-serious tone, "Namjoon kissed me before he even asked to court me. He was so sure I’d be his mate, he didn’t even bother with the usual courting rituals. He just went right for it. How scandalous, right?" Seokjin raises an eyebrow, as if daring Jungkook to respond to this little bit of gossip.

Jungkook, taken aback by Seokjin’s words, laughs nervously, but then his mind catches up to the story. He glances sideways at Seokjin and, without missing a beat, says, "Well, I understand why he did it. You’re really pretty, hyung. Maybe he just didn’t want anyone else to steal you away." Jungkook’s face is flushed, his words honest but spoken without thinking too much.

Seokjin’s eyes widen for a moment, before he bursts out laughing, the sound warm and easy, like a melody. "Oh? You think I’m pretty, huh?" he teases, his tone light, but there’s a mischievous sparkle in his eye. "Are you sure you aren’t just trying to butter me up for a favor, Kookie?"

Jungkook’s face turns an even deeper shade of red as he stutters, his words stumbling over themselves. "I-I mean, it’s obvious! You’re really pretty, hyung. Anyone can see that."

Seokjin’s smile softens into something more affectionate, and before Jungkook can react, Seokjin pinches his cheek gently. "Thank you, Kookie. You’re too sweet," he says, his voice warm and genuine. "And you’re pretty too, you know."

Jungkook blinks, a little stunned, but then he feels his heart flutter at the unexpected compliment. "Thank you," he mumbles shyly, his face still pink.

They fall into a comfortable silence for a few moments as they continue walking, the path winding through the trees, and the sounds of the forest slowly fading into the background. The air is crisp, but it’s not cold, and the walk feels effortless, with Seokjin’s presence beside him making it feel like time is moving at its own pace. Jungkook feels at ease, the tension that usually knots his stomach slowly unwinding with every step they take.

Soon, the quiet bustle of the trading market comes into earshot, the noise of haggling voices and the clinking of coins filling the air. Jungkook looks ahead, the sight of the market coming into view with its brightly colored stalls. 

Seokjin glances at Jungkook, his expression gentle. "Ready?" he asks, his voice soft but laced with that playful tone from before.

Jungkook nods, taking a deep breath, and with a smile, the two of them step into the market, their footsteps mingling with the chaos of the crowd.

The bustling trading market stretches out before them, its size much larger than the one back at the village. Rows upon rows of small shops and vibrant stalls line the cobbled streets, each one offering an array of goods that spark a sense of wonder in Jungkook.

The colors of fabrics, the scent of spices, and the chatter of people create a lively atmosphere that makes the market feel alive. Jungkook can’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed by how much there is to take in. The sheer number of people and the variety of things for sale make the village market seem almost quaint in comparison.

Seokjin, sensing the subtle shift in Jungkook’s energy, glances at him with a reassuring smile. Without missing a beat, he gently takes Jungkook’s hand, his fingers wrapping around his lightly. "Come on, Kookie. Don’t want you to get lost in the crowd," Seokjin says softly, his voice warm and steady. "Stick with me, okay?"

Jungkook looks up at him, surprised by the simple gesture, but grateful for it. He nods, squeezing Seokjin’s hand in return. It feels grounding, comforting, like he’s not alone in this new, unfamiliar place. They move through the market with ease, Seokjin guiding him confidently through the maze of stalls, his steps sure and purposeful. Jungkook follows along, trusting Seokjin completely, his hand still safely in his.

They wind their way through the crowd, passing vendors selling fruits, handcrafted jewelry, and brightly dyed fabrics. The noise of haggling and conversation fills the air, but Seokjin’s presence keeps Jungkook grounded, allowing him to move through the chaos with a sense of calm.

Eventually, they stop in front of a small, cozy stall tucked away near the back of the market. It’s filled with soft linens, homemade candles, and delicately woven baskets. The scent of lavender and something earthy drifts from it, adding to the warm atmosphere.

Seokjin gently tugs at Jungkook’s hand, bringing him closer. "This is where we’re stopping," he says with a smile, then calls out, "Miyeon!"

From behind the stall, a tall woman with long, glossy black hair steps forward. Her face is radiant, her smile welcoming and warm, and there’s a gentle grace in her movements. Cradled in her arms is a small baby, wrapped snugly in a soft, cream-colored blanket. The baby looks peaceful, with a small tuft of dark hair sticking out from under the blanket.

"Oppa, it’s so good to see you!" Miyeon says in a soft, melodic voice. She carefully shifts the baby to one arm, her other hand reaching out to shake Seokjin’s. Then her gaze turns to Jungkook, her smile widening as she looks at him with interest. "And you must be the human Seokjin-oppa has been telling me about," she says warmly, her eyes kind.

Seokjin nods, his expression fond. "Yes, this is Jungkook-ah. Kook-ah, this is Miyeon. She’s a close friend of ours."

Jungkook feels a little shy under her gaze, but he offers a small smile, stepping forward as Seokjin introduces them. "It’s nice to meet you," Jungkook says politely, a bit unsure of how to act in the presence of this kind woman.

Miyeon smiles at him, her eyes sparkling with kindness. "It’s lovely to meet you, Jungkook. I’ve heard so much about you. Seokjin-oppa has spoken highly of you," she says with a hint of warmth, and Jungkook feels the sincerity in her words.

Seokjin steps closer to Jungkook, his voice light as he adds, "Miyeon is the one Taehyungie and Jiminie were visiting when you first arrived here. They were helping her with the newborn. They’ve been close friends for a long time."

Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly as he processes this information. "Oh, I see… so that’s why they were gone for so long," he says, more to himself than anyone. He feels a sense of connection to Miyeon now, understanding the bond that exists between her and the others.

Miyeon notices the change in Jungkook’s expression and offers him a warm smile. "Yes, they’ve been very helpful. It means a lot to me, having such wonderful friends." Her voice softens as she looks down at the baby in her arms. "And now, I have a little girl to care for."

Jungkook can’t help but glance at the baby, his heart swelling with affection at the sight. "She’s adorable," he murmurs, almost instinctively taking a small step closer to get a better look.

Miyeon chuckles softly. "She is, isn’t she?" She adjusts the baby in her arms, allowing Jungkook to see her more clearly. The baby stirs, a small yawn escaping her lips, and Jungkook’s heart melts a little. It’s such a peaceful moment, the kind of simplicity he never had the chance to experience before.

Seokjin watches the exchange with a smile, his eyes fond. "I knew you’d like her. Miyeon’s been a great friend to all of us," he says.

Jungkook, still captivated by the baby, nods. "Yeah… she really is precious," he replies quietly, his voice full of awe.

Miyeon flashes Seokjin a warm smile and asks, "So, what do you need today?" Her voice is light, almost playful, as she glances at the busy market around them.

Seokjin responds easily, his tone casual. "We’re baking a cake, but we’ve run out of eggs," he says, his gaze flicking briefly to Jungkook, who looks a little unsure of what to do in the bustling atmosphere of the market.

Before Seokjin can even finish his sentence, Miyeon moves swiftly, gently placing the baby in Seokjin's arms before he can even protest. "Here, hold her for a moment," Miyeon says with a bright smile, as if she’s done this a thousand times. The action is so smooth and practiced that Jungkook can’t help but stare in surprise.

Seokjin’s eyes widen briefly, but there’s a look of amusement on his face. He shifts the baby carefully in his arms, looking at Jungkook with a smirk. "Miyeon’s just like that. Doesn’t ask, just does," he says softly. "She’s a lot like Taehyungie in that way. Both of them are used to doing whatever they please." Seokjin chuckles, adjusting the baby in his arms with ease, his movements gentle and smooth.

Jungkook watches, still a bit shocked by how naturally Seokjin handles the situation. He glances over at Miyeon as she disappears behind the stall, only to reappear moments later with two dozen eggs cradled in her arms.

Miyeon walks up to them and takes the baby back from Seokjin with a practiced, tender motion, giving the little one a soft kiss on the forehead. Seokjin looks at her, preparing to hand over the payment for the eggs, but Miyeon quickly stops him.

"No, no," she says, shaking her head with a smile. "You don’t need to pay. It’s the least I can do after all the help Jimin and Taehyung gave me." Her eyes sparkle with gratitude, and there’s an ease to the way she speaks that makes it clear this is something she’s said more than once.

Seokjin hesitates for a moment, glancing at Jungkook before looking back at Miyeon. "Are you sure? We wouldn’t want to take advantage of your kindness," Seokjin says, his voice warm but respectful.

Miyeon simply waves him off. "Don’t be silly. Jimin and Taehyung have helped me so much already. This is just a small way I can repay them," she says with a soft laugh, her smile never fading. "Now go on and enjoy your cake," she adds, handing over the eggs without hesitation.

"Thank you, Miyeon," Seokjin says with a sincere nod, his tone full of appreciation. Jungkook echoes his thanks, still a little taken aback by how effortlessly Miyeon had handled everything.

The two of them exchange a few more pleasantries before Seokjin gestures toward the rest of the market. "You can look around a bit if you’d like, Jungkook-ah, it's safe here." Seokjin says. "I need to grab a few things quickly, but stay in this area so I can find you easily, okay?"

Jungkook nods eagerly, still processing everything, but the thought of exploring the market a little on his own is exciting. "Okay," he replies, his voice soft as he takes a step away from Seokjin, glancing around at the rows of stalls.

"Don’t wander off too far, I don't want you walking too much today." Seokjin calls after him with a wink before turning to walk down a nearby alley. Jungkook watches him for a moment, then turns back to the market, his eyes wide with curiosity.

With Seokjin’s words in mind, Jungkook takes a slow, steady walk through the area, his senses alive with the new sights, sounds, and smells around him. The market feels like a world all its own—vibrant, busy, and full of people moving about with purpose. He takes in the colors of fabrics and the earthy smells of spices, feeling for the first time in a long time like there’s something worth exploring beyond the confines of his own thoughts.

Jungkook feels a flicker of unease at being left alone, but he reminds himself that he’s safe here. This isn’t like before—he’s free to move as he pleases, to explore without fear. It’s a newfound freedom, one that he’s slowly learning to embrace.

Back in the village, wandering through the forest paths and exploring the little corners of his new home had become part of his routine. It had been scary at first, but now it was something he enjoyed, something that made him feel a little more in control of his life.

So, even though he feels more confident when Seokjin is by his side, he takes a deep breath and decides to do this on his own. He wants to take it all in, to really see everything with his own eyes.

With that thought, he steps forward, his feet carrying him down the aisle of stalls. This section of the market seems to be entirely dedicated to food. The air is thick with the scent of grilled meats, fresh bread, and something sweet that he can’t quite place. His eyes flit from stall to stall, taking in the unfamiliar dishes. Some vendors are stirring steaming pots, while others arrange fresh produce into neat piles.

Around him, the market hums with life. Pups sit with their parents, eagerly biting into warm pastries, their little hands sticky with syrup. Elderly shifters gather in small clusters, talking animatedly, their expressions warm and familiar. There’s a sense of community here, something comforting and unspoken, and it makes Jungkook’s chest feel strangely light.

He’s so caught up in watching everything—the way a pup tugs on his mother’s sleeve for another bite, the way an older woman laughs at something her friend says—that he doesn’t realize he’s about to collide with someone.

The impact is sudden, jolting him back to reality as he stumbles slightly. A soft gasp reaches his ears before he looks down and sees a young woman on the ground, her expression startled as she blinks up at him.

Jungkook’s heart stutters in his chest. Oh no.

The poor shifter is sitting on the ground, clearly having been knocked over by their collision. Her dark eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, she just looks at him, as if processing what just happened. Jungkook, mortified, instantly crouches down, hands hovering as if unsure whether he should help her up or apologize first.

“I—I’m so sorry!” he blurts out, eyes round with panic. His face burns with embarrassment. “I wasn’t paying attention—I didn’t mean to—are you okay?”

The woman blinks a few times, as if her mind is still catching up with the fact that she’s suddenly on the ground. Then, with a small chuckle, she takes Jungkook’s outstretched hand, letting him help her up. Her fingers are warm against his, and despite the awkwardness of the situation, she smiles at him, albeit a little sheepishly.

“I’m fine,” she reassures him, dusting off the back of her skirt. “Really, don’t worry. It was my fault—I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Jungkook immediately shakes his head, flustered. “No, no, I wasn’t looking either! I should’ve been paying more attention.”

As he stammers out his apology, his eyes catch on the ruined food now lying on the ground. His stomach twists uncomfortably at the sight—the meal she had been holding just moments ago now scattered and wasted because of him.

“Oh no—your food,” he breathes, his expression crumpling with guilt. “I’m so, so sorry.”

The woman glances down, then waves a hand dismissively, offering him another small smile. “It’s okay, really. Accidents happen. I’ll just go buy another one.”

But that doesn’t sit right with Jungkook. He gnaws at his lip, his worry only deepening. “No, let me buy it for you,” he insists, already feeling determined to make up for his mistake. But then, as the words leave his mouth, he hesitates. Right. He doesn’t actually have any money with him.

Seokjin had been handling everything, and Jungkook had been so focused on taking in the market that he hadn’t even thought about it. His ears burn as he admits, “Oh… wait—I don’t have any money. It’s, um, my first time here.”

At that, the woman’s eyes widen in surprise. “Your first time?” she repeats, tilting her head curiously. Then, as if coming to a decision, she beams at him. “In that case, let’s go back to the stall I bought it from! I’ll get myself another one—and I’ll get something for you too.”

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard. “Oh—wait, you don’t have to—”

But she’s already gesturing for him to follow, her smile unwavering. “No, Consider it a welcome gift. Come on, let’s go!”

Jungkook hesitates for only a second before trailing after her, still flustered but secretly touched by her kindness.

As they reach the stall, she chats easily with the vendor, ordering food for both of them without hesitation. Jungkook shifts awkwardly beside her, still feeling guilty, but she only gives him a reassuring smile as she hands him a warm serving of food.

“There you go! Now, let’s go find my brother.”

Jungkook follows her through the bustling market, the scent of grilled meats and sweet pastries lingering in the air. Eventually, they arrive at a section where several wooden picnic tables are set up beneath the shade of large trees. A few groups are scattered around, talking and laughing as they eat, and at one of the tables, a man sits alone, waiting.

He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and carries himself with easy confidence. His dark hair is neatly tied back, and his sharp features make him look both serious and slightly intimidating. But when his gaze lifts and lands on them, there’s something almost intrigued in the way he looks at Jungkook, as if sizing him up in a way that makes his stomach flutter with nerves.

“Siwoo!” Seola greets, plopping down beside her brother without hesitation. She gestures for Jungkook to sit as well. “Come on, sit with us!”

Jungkook hesitates briefly before settling onto the bench, feeling slightly out of place but also oddly welcomed.

“Oh! I totally forgot,” Seola suddenly says, turning toward him with a sheepish smile. “I never introduced myself, did I?” She pats her chest lightly. “I’m Seola! I’m an omega, and this is my brother, Siwoo. He’s an alpha.”

Jungkook nods politely. “It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Jungkook.”

At his introduction, Seola hums, tilting her head slightly. Her nose twitches, as if catching onto something strange, and she frowns in curiosity. “That’s weird… I’ve never met an omega with a scent like yours before.”

Jungkook stiffens. He hadn’t thought about that. Most shifters naturally assumed he was an omega because he didn’t smell like an alpha or a beta, but his scent wasn’t like an omega’s either. It was softer, sweeter—different in a way that could raise suspicion if anyone thought too hard about it.

Should he tell them the truth?

The hyungs had never told him that he couldn’t mention that he was human, and Seokjin had assured him that the trading markets were safe. If they weren’t, he never would’ve let him come. And yet, doubt gnaws at him. He doesn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to himself. He doesn’t want people to look at him differently.

So instead, he swallows, offering her a small, noncommittal smile as he carefully chooses his next words.

Jungkook fidgets with the edge of his sleeve, feeling the weight of Siwoo’s gaze pressing down on him. The alpha hasn’t stopped looking, his sharp eyes tracking every minute shift in Jungkook’s expression like a predator sizing up prey.

Jungkook doesn’t like it.

Seola, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to notice—or maybe she just doesn’t care. She waves a hand dismissively. “You can’t be a beta or an alpha, though. I don’t think you are at least.”

Before Jungkook can respond, Siwoo speaks for the first time.

“You’re human.”

It’s not a question.

Jungkook tenses. There’s something unsettling about the way Siwoo says it, the certainty in his voice, like he already knows everything. Like he’s already figured Jungkook out and is simply waiting for confirmation.

Jungkook swallows thickly and tries not to meet his gaze. Instead, he turns toward Seola, forcing a small smile. “He’s right,” he says, voice softer than before. “I’m human.”

Seola’s eyes widen in surprise. “Wait, really?” She leans in, studying him closely, as if seeing him for the first time. “That’s… weird. You don’t look like any human I’ve ever seen before.” She tilts her head. “I mean, I haven’t seen many, but the ones I have met didn’t have pretty features like you.”

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. His ears turn pink. Siwoo, however, doesn’t let the conversation veer off course. His voice remains level, but there’s an edge to it now, something calculating lurking beneath his curiosity.

“Where are you from?” he asks.

Jungkook hesitates. “…A human village.”

Siwoo hums. “And why are you here?”

Jungkook grips his sleeve tighter. “I ran away.”

Siwoo doesn’t react. He just keeps watching, studying. Then, in a voice just a little too casual, he asks,

“And where are you staying in shifter territory?”

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably under Siwoo’s lingering gaze. The questions themselves aren’t strange—if anything, they’re exactly the kind of things someone would ask a stranger they’d just met. But coming from Siwoo, they feel… off. Like there’s something unspoken behind them, something Jungkook can’t quite put his finger on.

He doesn’t want to be rude, though. So he answers.

“I’m staying with the Moon Pack,” he says, watching Siwoo carefully.

Siwoo just hums, repeating the name under his breath as if committing it to memory. His expression doesn’t change much, but there’s something about the way his lips twitch at the corners that makes Jungkook uneasy. Almost like he’s pleased. But pleased about what?

Jungkook doesn’t know.

They eat then, the conversation shifting as Seola chats away with him. She’s bubbly and warm, her excitement making it easy for Jungkook to relax again. Siwoo, on the other hand, remains quiet, offering nothing to the conversation. He doesn’t ask more questions, doesn’t interject—he just watches. Every so often, Jungkook catches him looking, expression unreadable. It’s not unfriendly, exactly, but there’s something about it that feels… wrong. Like he knows something Jungkook doesn’t.

Jungkook tries to ignore it.

Then, just as the discomfort is starting to settle deep in his bones, he hears a familiar voice calling his name.

“Jungkook-ah!”

His head snaps up, and relief floods through him at the sight of Seokjin making his way toward them. The tension in his shoulders eases instantly. When he glances up, his breath leaves him in a quiet exhale, relief settling in his chest at the sight of the beta weaving through the crowd toward him.

Seokjin’s expression is unreadable at first, but his pace doesn’t falter, and when he reaches the table, there’s no hesitation. His hands find Jungkook’s face, cupping his cheeks gently, his palms warm against the coolness of Jungkook’s skin. The touch is brief yet grounding, and before Jungkook can say anything, Seokjin leans in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. His scent washes over him, steady and familiar, easing any lingering nerves.

“It’s time to go,” Seokjin says, his voice calm but firm.

Jungkook blinks up at him before casting a quick glance at Seola and Siwoo, suddenly feeling awkward for leaving so abruptly. But Seokjin doesn’t offer further explanation, and Jungkook knows better than to argue.

Seola, simply nods. “It was nice meeting you, Jungkook.”

Siwoo’s eyes lingers on him for a moment longer before forcing a thin smile. Something about it makes Jungkook’s stomach twist.

Jungkook dips his head in return. “You too,” he says quietly before rising from his seat.

Without another word, Seokjin gently guides him away from the table, and Jungkook follows without resistance. The warmth of Seokjin’s hand on his back is reassuring, a silent promise that they’re heading home, where he belongs.

As they weave through the bustling trading markets on their way out, Seokjin reaches for Jungkook’s hand. “Hold my hand,” he says casually.

Jungkook blinks at him. “Hyung, I’m not a pup,” he argues. “I won’t get lost.”

Seokjin gasps, feigning offense. “Are you saying I can’t hold the hand of the cute human I’m courting?” He pouts dramatically, eyes twinkling with mischief. Jungkook sputters, his brain short-circuiting at the words. “Wha– I–” He grips the basket of eggs tighter, face heating.

Seokjin only smirks, taking it further. “Oh, so Jiminie, Taehyungie, and Hobi can kiss you, but holding my hand is too much?” He sighs dramatically. “Ah, the betrayal. And here I thought I was your favorite hyung.”

Jungkook gapes at him, ears burning. “It’s not like that!” he huffs, hastily grabbing Seokjin’s hand before he can tease him even more. He keeps his gaze stubbornly forward, trying to ignore the way his heart stutters.

Seokjin just grins, giving Jungkook’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Teasing you is so much fun,” he coos, swinging their joined hands slightly. Jungkook groans, but the warmth of Seokjin’s palm is grounding, and despite his embarrassment, he doesn’t let go.

After a few moments, Seokjin’s teasing demeanor shifts into something more serious. His thumb brushes over the back of Jungkook’s hand in quiet thought before he speaks again.

“Next time, don’t wander off with people you don’t know,” he says, voice softer but firm. “You’re safe here, but that doesn’t mean everyone has good intentions.”

Jungkook’s stomach twists with guilt. He hadn’t even thought about that. The markets had felt lively, warm, and welcoming—he hadn’t considered the possibility of danger.

Seokjin squeezes his hand again, as if sensing his unease. “It’s okay,” he reassures gently.

“I just want you to be careful. There are a lot of different packs in shifter territory, and not all of them are like ours.”

Jungkook swallows, nodding. “I understand.”

Seokjin smiles again, this time softer. “Good.”

And just like that, he tugs Jungkook along, leading him out of the market and back toward home.

Notes:

Hey guys! 😊

I cannot get over Jungkook sleeping with Yoongi on the couch. Like… how did we go from awkward tension 😬 (and, let’s be honest, Yoongi being kinda mean 😂) to them literally curled up next to each other?? The development is insane but they're so cute ! 💕💕 When is my turn to sleep next to Yoongi, huh?? 😜😴

Also, not Jungkook immediately asking to go outside right after Namjoon specifically told everyone to stay inside for the rest of the day. I swear, that boy just does not listen to instructions! 🙄 It’s like it goes in one ear and straight out the other. 🤦‍♀️

That said, I think Namjoon handled the situation really well. If it were me, I probably would’ve been super mad, crying, and arguing on the spot. 😭 But he stayed calm, which honestly says a lot about him. 👏 Still, at some point, he’s going to have to really open up. He can’t stay in "reliable pack alpha mode" forever. He’s got to let himself feel things too. 💕💕

Sorry for the late update! I’ve been really busy today, and on top of that, I’m trying to get my 10k steps in—which takes so much time?? Like, what??? How do people do this daily?? 😩🤯

Also, if anyone follows a gluten-free / dairy-free / refined or added sugar-free diet, please drop your tips! ✨ I’ve been dealing with rosacea flare-ups for the past few months, and I think it’s because I’ve had to take antibiotics three times recently—probably wrecked my gut. 😷 So now I’m trying to heal it, and apparently, that means cutting out all the common irritants for 2 to 4 weeks. The struggle is real omg. 😣🍃

Oh, and just a heads-up—I might start posting updates later in the day (late in my timezone, at least) since I’ve got more going on lately. I’ll try to keep updating daily, but if I disappear for a few days (no updates, no replies), don’t worry! I promise I won’t abandon this fic. 💖 Also, if there are any mistakes, it's because I was half asleep while editing this, haha!

Anyway, that was a lot of rambling, so I’ll see you guys in the next chapter!! 💖📖✨

Chapter 40: A Recipe for Comfort

Summary:

Jungkook and Seokjin have a cozy baking session together

“Next time, don’t wander off with people you don’t know,” he says, voice softer but firm. “You’re safe here, but that doesn’t mean everyone has good intentions.”

Jungkook’s stomach twists with guilt. He hadn’t even thought about that. The markets had felt lively, warm, and welcoming—he hadn’t considered the possibility of danger.

Seokjin squeezes his hand again, as if sensing his unease. “It’s okay,” he reassures gently.

“I just want you to be careful. There are a lot of different packs in shifter territory, and not all of them are like ours.”

Jungkook swallows, nodding. “I understand.”

Seokjin smiles again, this time softer. “Good.”

And just like that, he tugs Jungkook along, leading him out of the market and back toward home.

 

--

 

“The people who come to this particular trading market, Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin begins, “are from neighboring packs. Packs that are allies.”

Jungkook’s brow furrows at the word. “Allies?” he asks, his voice tinged with confusion. He doesn’t quite understand.

Seokjin glances down at him, his expression serious now, as if weighing how much he should say. “Not every pack is peaceful,” he says, his tone turning quieter. “Not every pack has good intentions. There have been wars between packs in the past. Wars fought over territory, resources, things like that.” He pauses for a moment, as if the weight of history presses down on him. “It’s been peaceful for many years, but you can never know. Not for sure.”

Jungkook feels a chill run through him. The word war feels so foreign in a place that had seemed so kind, so welcoming. He doesn’t know what to make of it. Seokjin’s eyes meet his, and there’s a strange sadness behind them, a cautionary weight. “Some packs are made of bad people,” Seokjin continues. “Greedy people. People who want more than what they already have.”

Jungkook feels a pang of discomfort in his chest. He doesn’t know why, but the thought of other packs, with bad people in them, fills him with a strange anxiety. He opens his mouth to ask something else, but Seokjin seems to sense it and goes on before he can speak.

“There was a war,” Seokjin says, the past becoming something tangible in his voice. “It was about twenty years ago. I was maybe six or seven years old then. Several of those ‘bad’ packs declared war on us, because they wanted our pack’omegas.” His words hang in the air like a warning. Jungkook feels his stomach tighten, a knot forming at the mention of omegas being taken.

“They wanted your omegas?” Jungkook repeats, unable to fully understand the meaning behind it.

Seokjin’s gaze hardens slightly, his face grim. “Yes. They thought they could take them—because omegas held a certain type value to them, Jungkook-ah. They’re not just important for the pack’s future, but they’re seen as... well, valuable to other packs. Some packs wanted them as breeding stock. Others just wanted control. Power.”

Jungkook feels his chest tighten, the words hitting him harder than he expected. He has no words in response, just a tightness in his throat as he tries to process what Seokjin is saying. The notion of omegas, and how others would want to take them for their own, leaves him unsettled, a bitter taste in his mouth.

“They wanted to take your omegas to hurt them,” Jungkook says quietly, the realization settling in.

Seokjin nods slowly, his face showing just a flash of emotion before he quickly suppresses it. “Yes. The pack refused obviously. We would never have agreed to that.” He looks down at Jungkook, his voice becoming softer. “It was obvious. We would never allow that to happen to any of us.”

Jungkook looks up at Seokjin, a sudden weight on his chest. “So... there was a war because of that?”

Seokjin gives a slight nod, his expression hard. “Yes, there was. Packs fought over omegas. Over power. Over territory. It was a long, bloody fight. It ended, but...” His words trail off, and for a moment, he’s lost in the past, before his gaze shifts back to Jungkook, almost as if he’s seeing him for the first time since sharing that history. “We may be at peace now, but it doesn’t mean everyone is safe. There are always those who want to disrupt the balance.”

Jungkook shudders slightly at the weight of those words. He had never considered that something so sacred, so protected in the pack, could be the reason for such violence. The notion that someone could want to take omegas—or anyone—like that seems like an impossibility, yet here he is, learning just how fragile peace can be.

Seokjin gives him a small, reassuring smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes fully. “You’re safe here, Jungkook-ah. You’re with the Moon Pack now. We’ll protect you. But you have to understand, the world out here is more complicated than you might think. “You may not be an omega, but you're human—and that alone could attract the wrong kind of attention.”

Jungkook swallows thickly, trying to comprehend all the new information he’s being given. He’s learned so much today, and the weight of it is beginning to settle heavily on him. “I didn’t know any of this,” he admits, his voice soft, as if acknowledging the naivety he had carried into shifter territory.

Seokjin gives a gentle squeeze of his hand. “You don’t need to know everything right away. But the world isn’t as simple as it seems. Just remember, you have us. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

Jungkook nods, trying to let Seokjin’s words comfort him, but the gnawing feeling in his stomach remains, the realization that peace is never a guarantee. The world beyond the Moon Pack is still full of dangers he can’t even begin to imagine.

Seokjin continues walking beside Jungkook, his expression thoughtful as he looks ahead. “Jiminie and Taehyungie,” Seokjin begins, as if weighing his words, “are actually from one of those enemy packs.” Jungkook’s gaze flickers up to Seokjin, confusion and surprise filling his chest. He hadn’t known this. Jimin and Taehyung—who are so kind, so gentle—are from an enemy pack?

“They were pups during the war,” Seokjin explains, his voice steady but heavy with an unspoken understanding. “They were lucky because they hadn’t presented yet, so they were safe. But once they did…” He lets the words hang in the air, as if the thought itself is something to be understood, not just said outright.

Jungkook’s heart stutters as he listens, the implications sinking in. “Once they presented... they were in danger?” he asks, his voice softer now, the weight of Seokjin’s words settling.

Seokjin nods slowly. “Yes. Because omegas were seen only as breeding stock, Jungkook-ah.” His words are clipped, as though the thought repulses him, the bitterness clear in his tone. “Once Jiminie and Taehyungie presented, they were vulnerable. Other packs wanted them. Some of them just wanted to take them, because omegas are... valued for that purpose.” His voice falters slightly, and Jungkook can see the discomfort in Seokjin’s eyes as he speaks.

Jungkook stares ahead, his mind spinning. Breeding stock. The thought feels strange, almost inhuman. Jimin and Taehyung—his hyungs—breeding? But they’re both men, and it doesn’t even make sense to Jungkook. How could that possibly work?

He wants to ask, but he feels an awkward, uneasy knot in his chest. It feels too personal, too intimate to ask. And something tells him it’s not his place.

Seokjin seems to sense his discomfort, though, and softens his tone. “It’s not my story to tell, Kook-ah. You should ask them when you’re ready. But know that they’ve been through a lot. They ran away together for a long time, until they ended up with the Moon Pack. It wasn’t easy for them. That’s why their bond is so strong.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, his mind still swirling. He feels a new sense of respect for Jimin and Taehyung, understanding that there’s so much more to their pasts than he ever realized. They had faced things Jungkook couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

Seokjin’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “But no matter what, Jungkook-ah, you’re always safe with us. You don’t have to worry about those things here.” He glances down at him, his expression soft but firm. “Just... never wander off too far on your own, alright?”

Jungkook looks up at him, meeting his gaze, feeling the sincerity in Seokjin’s eyes. “I won’t,” he promises, though he can’t shake the unease that’s starting to settle in his gut.

“There are enemy packs to worry about,” Seokjin continues, his voice quiet but steady. “But the real threats? The ones we worry about the most, are the rogues.”

Jungkook’s brow furrows. “Rogues?” he asks, not understanding what Seokjin means.

Seokjin pauses for a moment, as if considering how best to explain. “Rogues are wolves—shifters—who don’t belong to any pack. They’re dangerous, unpredictable. Some of them are castaways, others are outlaws. They don’t follow pack laws or rules, and they’re known for causing trouble. Sometimes they’re just looking for a place to belong, but others…” His voice hardens as he speaks. “Others just want chaos. They want to take whatever they can get, and they won’t hesitate to hurt anyone to do it.”

Jungkook’s chest tightens at the thought of these rogues, the idea of wolves who have no pack, no family to protect them or guide them. He wonders, for a moment, what it must be like to live without the protection of a pack. But then the reality hits him, They hurt others. They hurt people who don’t belong to them.

Seokjin looks down at him, his expression serious. “So, be careful. If you ever feel like something’s off or if you sense someone... dangerous, trust your instincts. And if you’re ever in doubt, come find me or any of the others. We’ll protect you.”

Jungkook nods, the weight of Seokjin’s words pressing on his chest. He feels the protective aura surrounding the pack, the safety they provide him, and yet the threat of the rogues makes everything feel less certain. The world outside the Moon Pack is filled with so many dangers, some of them unseen.

“Okay hyung,” Jungkook says quietly, looking up at Seokjin. “I’ll be careful.”

As they continue walking back toward the village, Jungkook’s mind races. Seokjin’s words about trusting his instincts echo in his head, and despite the comforting presence of his hyung beside him, the unsettling feeling Siwoo had stirred within him lingers. His gut had tightened when Siwoo asked those probing questions, when the alpha had looked at him with that strange, almost predatory glint in his eyes.

He wasn’t just curious, Jungkook thinks, his fingers subconsciously tightening around the fabric of his sleeve. He was... analyzing me.

It’s a feeling he can’t shake off. But he doesn’t want to add to Seokjin’s worry. He can’t. Seokjin is already so protective of him—so understanding—and Jungkook doesn’t want to burden him with any more concerns. Not when there’s no immediate danger. Siwoo hasn’t done anything, he reminds himself, but it doesn’t make the unease any less intense.

Jungkook glances up at Seokjin, who is walking beside him with a casual smile, talking about something he hadn’t been paying attention to. Seokjin’s presence is a comfort, the familiar scent of him, making Jungkook feel safer, more grounded. The last thing Seokjin needs is to be more worried about him.

He takes a deep breath, pushing the feeling down, forcing his thoughts back to the moment. Just focus on the now, he tells himself. Focus on being with the pack. On the good things.

Seokjin’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “You’re very quiet. Everything okay?”

Jungkook blinks, realizing he’s been lost in his thoughts for far too long. He quickly smiles up at Seokjin, trying to mask the unease with a lighthearted tone. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired from the walk, I guess.”

Seokjin nods, not looking convinced but choosing not to press further. Instead, he gently bumps his shoulder against Jungkook’s. “We’re almost back. We’ll get you some rest, okay? Maybe a warm bath too. That always helps me when I’m feeling off.”

Jungkook chuckles softly, grateful for the change in subject. “That sounds nice.”

Seokjin and Jungkook walk in comfortable silence for the rest of the way, but no matter how much he tries, Jungkook can’t shake the lingering unease curling in his chest. Something about his interaction with Siwoo had felt off. Not in an obvious way, not in a way he could put into words, but in a way that left an unsettled weight in his stomach.

Still, it doesn’t seem like something important enough to trouble Seokjin with, so he swallows it down and keeps quiet. Maybe it's just his imagination.

Soon enough, they reach home, the familiar warmth of the packhouse easing some of the tension in his shoulders.

Jungkook is the one who insists on baking, eyes lighting up with quiet determination as he tugs on Seokjin’s sleeve. The beta only chuckles, ruffling his hair. “Of course, Kookie. I’d be happy to have my cute little helper with me.”

They make their way to the kitchen, and the moment Seokjin pulls out that pink apron—the one with white hearts, the one Jungkook had worn the very first time—Jungkook already knows what’s coming. Seokjin takes his time tying it around his waist, fingers adjusting the knot with deliberate care before stepping back with a satisfied hum.

“Oh, you’re just too cute,” Seokjin coos, hands on his hips as he beams down at him. “My little pink-aproned bunny.”

Jungkook’s ears burn instantly, heat creeping up his neck as his scent gives him away—sweet, flustered, embarrassed. He knows what Seokjin is doing. Hoseok had warned him before, how all his hyungs loved to tease him just to watch his cheeks turn red and his scent grow sweeter.

With a soft whimper, Jungkook grabs the front of Seokjin’s shirt, tugging lightly as he peers up at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Hyung, stop teasing me…” he mumbles, voice small, shy.

Seokjin only grins, warmth crinkling the corners of his eyes. But after a moment, he gives in, hand coming up to gently card through Jungkook’s hair. His touch is soft, reassuring. “Alright, alright,” he relents, his voice carrying the same fondness that lingers in his gaze. “I’ll stop—for now.”

As they settle into the rhythm of baking, Jungkook finds himself hyper-aware of Seokjin’s presence. The beta moves with practiced ease, measuring out ingredients with effortless precision, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Jungkook tries not to stare, but it’s difficult when Seokjin’s forearms flex every time he moves.

The kitchen hums with warmth, the scent of sugar and vanilla thick in the air as Jungkook moves carefully around the space. He isn’t as skilled as Seokjin, but he does his best to follow along, measuring out ingredients with quiet focus. The beta, however, is effortless in his movements—graceful, precise, completely in control.

Jungkook tries not to stare, but his eyes betray him every time.

His arms flex. His fingers, long and sure, work methodically, pressing and shaping with a confidence that speaks of years of practice. Jungkook swallows hard, forcing himself to look away, but even that doesn’t help much.

Because then there’s Seokjin’s voice—low and warm, carrying a teasing lilt every time he praises Jungkook for getting something right. And worst of all, there’s the occasional brush of their hands. Small, fleeting touches that leave tingles in their wake, that make Jungkook’s skin burn with an awareness he doesn’t know how to shake.

Get it together, he scolds himself, shaking his head as he focuses on the mixing bowl in front of him. He’s whisking the batter, watching as the ingredients blend together, when suddenly—

A presence behind him. Warmth. The faintest brush of breath near his ear.

Then—Seokjin’s hand, wrapping gently around his wrist.

“Here, Kook-ah, you have to be gentle,” Seokjin murmurs, his voice lower than usual. He leans in, close enough that Jungkook can feel the heat radiating from him, can smell the familiar blend of Seokjin’s scent—soft jasmine, something inherently him.

Jungkook stiffens, pulse skittering.

Seokjin’s chest is nearly flush against his back, their bodies a whisper apart. It would take the smallest movement for them to touch.

“You don’t want to overmix,” Seokjin continues, oblivious—or not oblivious, judging by the slight smirk in his voice. “Or the cake will turn out dense.” Jungkook barely hears him. His thoughts are too tangled, too caught up in the warmth at his back, the firm but gentle grip on his wrist. Seokjin’s fingers press lightly, guiding his movements with practiced ease.

He swallows hard. “I—I can do it.”

Seokjin hums, amused, but he doesn’t move away just yet. Instead, his grip lingers—just a second too long—before finally letting go.

“There you go, bunny,” he says, and Jungkook feels the words physically. They settle somewhere deep in his chest, warm and flustering, and he bites down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from reacting.

But he knows his scent has already betrayed him.

He forces himself to keep stirring, ignoring the way his hands feel unsteady, the way his heart pounds far too fast. But then—

Seokjin reaches around him again, this time grabbing the measuring cup beside the bowl. The movement brings them even closer, and Jungkook feels it—the faintest brush of Seokjin’s shoulder against his, the briefest ghost of warmth as Seokjin leans forward, his breath fanning against Jungkook’s cheek.

Jungkook inhales sharply. He doesn’t mean to, but it happens anyway.

Seokjin notices. Of course he does.

The beta stills for a fraction of a second, and then—slowly—he pulls back, just enough to glance down at Jungkook’s face.

“You’re getting flustered over baking, Kook-ah?” Seokjin teases, voice dipping, eyes glinting with amusement. “Should I be worried?”

Jungkook scowls, mortified beyond belief. “I am not flustered,” he lies, only for his hands to immediately betray him by fumbling the spoon in his grip. It slips, clattering against the side of the bowl, sending a small puff of flour into the air between them.

Seokjin’s laughter is infuriating. Rich and warm, filled with the kind of affection that makes Jungkook’s stomach twist itself into knots.

“You’re cute, you know that?” Seokjin says then, voice softer.

Jungkook freezes.

The words shouldn’t hit as hard as they do. Seokjin is always teasing him, always calling him cute. But something about this moment—about the quiet warmth in his tone, about the way he’s looking at Jungkook—makes it feel different.

Jungkook swallows. “You’re not so bad yourself, hyung,” he mutters, barely audible.

Seokjin’s fingers still over the rolling pin. For a moment, the kitchen feels too quiet, the air charged with something neither of them fully acknowledge.

Then, finally—

“Not so bad?” Seokjin repeats, tilting his head, his lips curling in that slow, teasing smile. “That’s all I get?” Jungkook’s face burns. “I take it back,” he says immediately, turning back to the dough as if that’ll save him.

Seokjin chuckles, voice warm with amusement. “Too late, bunny. You already said it.” Jungkook groans, shoving a ball of dough into Seokjin’s hands in retaliation. Seokjin only laughs harder, but he doesn’t push further.

Jungkook is suffering.

Not in an obvious, dramatic way—no, he’s too proud for that. But internally? He is hanging on by a thread.

Because Seokjin has definitely started doing this on purpose.

That’s the only explanation for the way he shrugs off his cardigan halfway through their baking session, sighing about the heat like it’s the most casual thing in the world. Jungkook barely has time to brace himself before Seokjin pulls it off, leaving only the fitted shirt underneath—one that clings to his broad frame in ways that feel unfair.

Jungkook swallows thickly, willing himself not to stare.

He fails again.

Seokjin’s forearms, already distracting before, are now completely on display—strong and toned, his skin golden under the warm kitchen lights. The muscles flex subtly as he moves, smooth and natural, as if he isn’t absolutely ruining Jungkook just by existing.

Jungkook tells himself to focus. He’s here to bake, not to have a crisis over his beta hyung’s arms.

Except it’s impossible.

Because Seokjin’s scent—fresh jasmine, crisp and intoxicating—has thickened in the air, mixing with the vanilla and sugar from their baking. It’s everywhere, everywhere, sinking into Jungkook’s lungs until it feels like he’s drowning in it. It smells so sweet, so warm, that Jungkook swears he can taste it—like the scent itself is curling on his tongue, syrupy and maddening.

He grips the counter, nails digging into the wood.

Get it together. He’s your hyung. He’s just baking. He’s—

“Since we’re already in here,” Seokjin says, snapping him out of his downward spiral, “we might as well start on dinner too.”

Jungkook nods a beat too late. “Right. Yeah. Good idea.”

Seokjin doesn’t seem to notice his hesitation. He just rolls up his sleeves a little further—cruel—before reaching for the vegetables and a knife, settling into chopping like it’s second nature. Jungkook, who had managed to somewhat recompose himself, is immediately thrown back into hell.

Because now—now Seokjin is focused.

And Jungkook should not find that attractive. He should not find that attractive.

But he does.

Because Seokjin’s expression shifts, brows furrowing just slightly, his lips pressed together in focus. Then—like a curse—he drags his lower lip between his teeth, biting down absentmindedly as he works.

Jungkook forgets how to breathe.

It’s obscene—the way Seokjin doesn’t even realize what he’s doing. The way his arms flex with each controlled motion, muscles shifting as he grips the knife. The sound of the blade against the cutting board is steady, rhythmic, completely indifferent to Jungkook’s suffering.

The worst part? Seokjin looks effortless. Like he has no idea how attractive he is right now, casually biting his lip while his strong hands make quick work of the ingredients. Jungkook, on the other hand, is losing his entire mind. His face is burning. His pulse is unsteady. And his scent is sweetening, he knows it is, no matter how hard he tries to suppress it. He’s sure that if Seokjin were to turn and take a deep breath, he’d be able to tell.

Jungkook steels himself, digging his nails into his palm. Control yourself.

But then Seokjin does turn to him, brushing a strand of hair from his eyes before offering, “You okay? You’re quiet.”

Jungkook wants to laugh. Or cry. Maybe both.

“I—” He clears his throat, forcing his voice to sound normal. “I’m fine. Just… focusing.”

Seokjin tilts his head slightly, gaze sweeping over him in quiet assessment. Jungkook holds his breath, hoping—praying—that his face isn’t as obvious as it feels.

“Good,” Seokjin says at last, giving him an easy smile before turning back to the cutting board.

Jungkook exhales sharply, gripping the counter like it’s the only thing keeping him upright.

This is fine. He’s fine.

He just needs to stop thinking about the way Seokjin’s arms flex every time he chops. Or the way his lips part slightly when he focuses. Or how the scent of jasmine is absolutely wrecking his ability to function.

Easy. Simple.

Just survive the next ten minutes without embarrassing yourself.

Jungkook thinks he’s safe.

Sure, his pulse has been erratic ever since Seokjin rolled up his sleeves, exposing his forearms like it was nothing, like it wasn’t a devastating attack on Jungkook’s ability to function. And yes, he’s still recovering from the sight of the beta biting his lower lip absentmindedly while chopping vegetables, completely unaware—or maybe entirely aware—of how unfairly attractive he looks while doing it. But Jungkook is managing. Barely.

So when he finally moves to pour the batter into the cake mold, he tells himself this is his moment to focus, to ground himself, to push aside the unbearable heat radiating off Seokjin’s body and get through this without further embarrassment.

Except—

That’s when Seokjin moves.

There’s no warning, no hesitation, no time for Jungkook to brace himself before Seokjin is suddenly there, pressing in close behind him again, his presence overwhelming, inescapable. The warmth of his chest blankets Jungkook’s back, solid and steady, a full-body heat that seeps into his skin, curling into his bones.

Jungkook freezes.

Every nerve in his body goes rigid as his senses drown in Seokjin. The scent of jasmine, already sweetened by the sugar they’ve been working with, thickens in the air around them, mixing with the buttery aroma of batter and something deeper, warmer—him. It’s dizzying. The way Seokjin exhales, slow and deliberate, the warmth of his breath fanning over the back of Jungkook’s neck, dangerously close. The way his body presses flush against Jungkook’s, his broad frame caging him in against the counter, no room to escape, no space left between them.

Jungkook’s hands start shaking.

The mixing bowl wobbles in his grip, and he struggles to steady it, his fingers tightening instinctively around the handle. His heart is hammering against his ribs, loud enough that he’s convinced Seokjin must hear it, must feel it.

"Careful," Seokjin murmurs, voice low and smooth, the barest hint of amusement threading through it. "You don’t want to spill, do you, Kookie?"

Jungkook swallows hard, words stuck in his throat. How is he supposed to answer that?

Then—

Then Seokjin wraps his arms around his waist and Jungkook stops breathing.

It’s not casual, not light—not something he can brush off as an accident. Seokjin’s arms encircle him completely, his palms pressing firmly against his sides, holding him there, keeping him steady—or keeping him trapped, Jungkook isn’t sure anymore. There’s no escape. Seokjin is everywhere, a wall of warmth and jasmine and Seokjin pressing into him, his chin brushing against Jungkook’s temple as he leans in closer, completely unhurried, as if he has all the time in the world.

"You're shaking," Seokjin observes, and there's a teasing lilt to his voice now, deliberate, knowing. His fingers flex against Jungkook’s waist, not enough to tickle, but enough to remind him that they’re there, that he’s touching him, that he knows. "Are you nervous, Kook?"

Jungkook wants to die.

His entire body is burning, his skin prickling with heat as he struggles to pour the batter. His breathing is uneven, shallow and ragged, and he knows Seokjin can hear it. Knows Seokjin can feel the way his muscles have gone taut under his touch. It’s humiliating, the way his body betrays him so easily, the way the smallest shift of Seokjin’s fingers against his waist sends another shiver racing up his spine.

"I'm just trying to help," Seokjin continues, his tone soft, coaxing. His chin dips slightly, and Jungkook feels more than sees the way Seokjin tilts his head, the subtle shift in posture that has his lips hovering right over the bare skin of Jungkook’s nape. "You're so tense. Maybe you just need to relax a little."

Jungkook’s fingers tighten around the bowl, his knuckles white. Relax? How is he supposed to relax when Seokjin is practically wrapped around him, his scent filling his lungs, his voice curling into his ear like sin?

And then—

Seokjin kisses him.

It’s barely a kiss, just the softest, featherlight press of lips against the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck. A touch so delicate it shouldn’t even count, shouldn’t hold any power. But it does. Oh, it does. Because it destroys Jungkook.

His entire body jolts as if struck by lightning, breath catching somewhere in his throat and refusing to move. A tremor runs through him, and before he can stop himself, before he can even think, a sound escapes—a small, choked whimper, soft and desperate and utterly betraying.

The moment it happens, panic slams into him.

His hands fly to his mouth, slapping over it as if he can somehow take it back, erase it from existence. His eyes widen in sheer horror.

Oh my god.
Did that just—
Did he just—

He’s mortified. Absolutely mortified. That he made that sound. That Seokjin heard it. That Seokjin now knows exactly what’s happening inside his head.

A silence stretches between them, thick and suffocating. Agonizing. Jungkook refuses to move, refuses to look at him, frozen in the wreckage of his own embarrassment. His heart pounds wildly, scent spiking with something frantic, something humiliated.

And then, behind him—

A chuckle.

Warm. Indulgent. Far too pleased.

The sound rolls over him like a slow wave, making his skin prickle, his mortification only deepening. His breath stutters, and then, before he can even process it, Seokjin’s voice follows, low and terribly, terribly smug—

"Hm?" A hum, close, teasing. Lips still hovering just near his skin. "Was that a little whimper, Kookie? For me?"

Jungkook makes a noise—high and strangled—before he shoves at Seokjin’s chest, wrenching himself out of reach. He spins around, eyes blazing, face burning so hot he’s sure he’s seconds from combusting. His pulse is erratic, his body thrumming with the aftermath of something too sharp, too overwhelming.

Seokjin, the absolute menace, looks devastatingly unbothered.

If anything, he looks amused. Mischief twinkles in his eyes, his lips curved at the corners in a smirk so subtle, so insufferable, it makes Jungkook want to throw himself into the sun.

Seokjin tilts his head, voice all faux innocence. "Hmm? What’s wrong, Kookie? You look a little flustered."

"Flustered?" Jungkook sputters, still gripping his own mouth like it might erase the last sixty seconds of his life. "You—! You—!"

Seokjin’s smirk widens, eyes glinting with delight. "Me~?"

Jungkook barely has time to catch his breath before Seokjin is on him again. The moment he turns to put distance between them, to breathe, to recover—Seokjin moves. Closes the space so easily, so effortlessly, like he belongs in it, like he belongs against Jungkook.

And then—

Strong arms wrap around him again, tugging him in.

Jungkook’s body locks up, his breath hitching as Seokjin pulls him close—so close—until there’s nothing between them, until their bodies fit together like pieces of something inevitable.

Jungkook feels everything.

The warmth of Seokjin’s broad frame pressing into his, the firm weight of his arms around his waist, the subtle shift of his muscles as he moves. But worst of all—worst of all—is when Seokjin buries his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck and inhales.

Jungkook trembles.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair how right it feels, how Seokjin drags in a deep breath, slow and indulgent, like he’s savoring him, like he needs this. A deep hum rumbles in Seokjin’s chest, vibrating against Jungkook’s spine. Then, his voice—low and smooth, thick with something dangerous—breaks the heavy silence between them.

"Mmm... I can’t help it, Kook-ah," he murmurs, his lips ghosting over Jungkook’s pulse point as he speaks, his breath hot against sensitive skin. "You smell so sweet when you’re embarrassed. So strong. It’s almost unfair."

Jungkook burns.

His entire body flushes red, his scent spiking before he can even control it. Damn him. Damn him for saying that.

Seokjin chuckles softly, the sound rich and pleased. Like he knows. Like he’s enjoying every second of Jungkook’s unraveling. Jungkook wants to shove him away, to put space between them, to run—but his body refuses to move. He’s stuck, pinned by the weight of Seokjin’s presence, by the way the beta lingers in his scent, by the way he holds him like he owns him.

And then—

Seokjin shifts even closer.

His lips brush against Jungkook’s ear, featherlight but intentional, and Jungkook swears he feels him smirk before he murmurs, low and dangerous—

"I can’t wait for you to be mine, Kook-ah."

Jungkook stops breathing. His stomach drops. His legs nearly give out. And then—then—Seokjin kisses his neck. The touch isn’t innocent this time. It’s slow. Lingering. His lips press firmly into the skin just above Jungkook’s racing pulse, his breath warm and heavy, his mouth barely pulling away before pressing down again—deeper this time, his lips parting slightly like he wants to taste.

Jungkook makes a sound. A tiny, broken thing that he tries to swallow down, but knows Seokjin hears.

Because the beta smirks against his skin.

Because Seokjin pulls back, just enough to look at him, eyes dark and half-lidded, filled with something Jungkook can’t handle right now. "Not yet," Seokjin finally murmurs, his voice still teasing, but beneath it—something serious. "I’ll leave you alone for now." Jungkook barely processes the words before Seokjin lifts a hand, trailing his fingers along the curve of his jaw, tilting his chin just enough to make him look at him.

"But one day," Seokjin whispers, his gaze locking onto Jungkook’s with an intensity that steals the breath from his lungs. His voice is steady, dripping with certainty, as if it’s a promise already written in the stars. "I’ll make you mine."

Jungkook shatters.

Heat floods his face, burning from the inside out, his skin too tight, his breath uneven, his pulse hammering so violently in his chest that he wonders, for a brief, panicked second, if his body might actually give out beneath the weight of it. His fingers twitch at his sides, and he feels dizzy—like he’s teetering on the edge of something vast, something dangerous, something irreversible.

And Seokjin knows.

Of course, he does. Because his smirk widens—because he takes a slow, deliberate step back, putting distance between them like he hadn’t just wrecked Jungkook’s entire world in real-time. Like he hadn’t just pulled the ground out from beneath him with a single sentence. He acts like nothing happened, as if he hasn’t just ruined his entire existence with four little words.

"But not right now," Seokjin sighs, exaggeratedly disappointed, as if the timing is truly the only thing holding him back. His tone is light, almost playful, but his eyes… his eyes are sharp, glinting with something knowing, something devastatingly assured. "We still have a cake to finish, don’t we?"

Jungkook stares.

His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. He tries to speak, tries to summon words, but his brain refuses to cooperate. Nothing comes out. Nothing except the rapid, stuttering thud of his heartbeat in his ears.

And Seokjin just grins.

Like he’s won. Like he knows he’s won. Like he’s already seen the end of this story, and Jungkook is merely catching up.

Then, with an almost unbearably fond pat to Jungkook’s very overheated cheek, Seokjin turns away, back to the counter, his movements unhurried, unbothered. He hums softly under his breath, the picture of ease, as if he hasn’t just turned Jungkook’s entire world upside down.

Jungkook watches his back, betrayed.

Dinner melts into a warm hum of conversation, soft laughter weaving between the clinking of utensils, the scent of home-cooked food thick and comforting in the air. But it’s the cake—golden, airy, vanilla-sweet—that steals the night.

Jungkook sits curled up on the couch, his fingers pressing into the soft cushion beneath him as he takes a slow, indulgent bite. The sugar melts on his tongue, buttery and rich, and something deep inside him thrums with satisfaction. It’s good—better than he expected. He helped make this. His hands had mixed the batter, smoothed the icing, and now, tasting the final product, a quiet pride settles in his chest.

But then—

Laughter. Soft. Knowing.

"Mmm, Kookie, this cake is just so sweet," Jimin purrs, eyes lidded as he takes another slow bite, his lips curving. "So, so sweet," Taehyung echoes, his voice lilting, teasing, yet there’s something almost deliberate in the way he watches Jungkook, something sharp beneath the amusement. "Almost overwhelmingly so."

Jungkook pauses mid-chew, brows furrowing. "I mean... yeah? It’s cake?"

The two omegas exchange a glance. Then, giggle. Jungkook stiffens. It’s not an innocent sound. It’s the kind of giggle that makes his skin prickle, that carries the weight of something unspoken. "Why are you guys being weird?" he asks, wary.

"We’re not being weird," Jimin insists, far too quickly, his voice light and too innocent. "We’re just appreciating the flavor."

"Yeah," Taehyung nods sagely. "The flavor is really... telling."

Jungkook frowns. "Telling how?"

Before either of them can answer, a laugh—low, amused—rumbles from across the room.

"Alright, alright," Namjoon says, shaking his head as he stands, collecting empty plates. "Let’s get these dishes cleaned up before you guys torment Jungkook-ah any further."

The others rise, Hoseok reaching out to ruffle Jungkook’s hair as he passes. Yoongi rolls up his sleeves with a groan, muttering about how he got roped into this, while Seokjin—who had been suspiciously quiet—simply smirks, eyes glinting as he stacks plates. 

Soon enough, the others drift away, leaving Jungkook alone in the living room with Jimin and Taehyung.

The shift is immediate.

The playful, teasing air from before fades into something softer, quieter—something heavier. It settles between them like a tangible thing, unspoken but undeniable. Jungkook feels it before they even say a word, the way the atmosphere changes, the way their attention sharpens in a way that feels both deliberate and careful.

His eyes flick between them, cautious. "What?"

Jimin hums, shifting to curl his legs up onto the couch, his posture relaxed but his expression thoughtful. "We wanted to ask you something."

Beside him, Taehyung leans in slightly, his gaze deep, unreadable, a silent thread of meaning woven into the way he watches Jungkook. Then— "Would you like to sleep with us tonight?"

Jungkook blinks, taken aback, considering he’s already been sharing a bed with them. "Of course."

Jimin smiles, but there’s something hesitant about it, something that lingers at the edges of his expression. "No, we mean..." He trails off for a moment, then reaches out, fingers ghosting over Jungkook’s wrist in a touch so light, so careful, it almost tickles. It’s grounding, a silent reassurance before he speaks again. "In the den. With all of us. In the pack nest."

Jungkook’s breath catches.

The pack nest. The space where they all sleep together, where scents intertwine, where warmth is a living, breathing thing wrapping around them like a shield. A space meant for comfort, for safety. For pack.

Something tightens in his chest, coiling thick and heavy beneath his ribs.

"I—"

"Only if you want to," Taehyung cuts in quickly, his voice softer now, so earnest it tugs at something deep inside Jungkook. "You don’t have to. But we... we’d really like it if you did."

Jimin nods, his fingers pressing just a little more firmly against Jungkook’s wrist, his thumb brushing over his skin in a slow, comforting stroke. "You’re pack too, Jungkookie."

The words hit like a pulse of heat, sinking deep.

You’re pack too.

The weight of them is staggering. Overwhelming. His heart stumbles over itself, thudding too hard, too fast, as his body wavers between the instinct to lean in—to accept—to let himself believe in this warmth being offered to him—and the quiet, persistent whisper of doubt curling at the edges of his mind.

Does he really belong there? With them?

Jimin and Taehyung must sense the hesitation because Jimin shifts closer, the warmth of him pressing into Jungkook’s side, steady and patient. "It’s warm," he murmurs, coaxing. "And really comfy."

"And safe," Taehyung echoes, his voice rich with quiet conviction. "You’ll like it, Koo. I promise."

Jungkook exhales, a shuddering breath, something loosening inside him, unwinding bit by bit. His fingers curl slightly, gripping the hem of his sweater as he hesitates for a heartbeat longer—

Then—

"...Okay," he whispers. "I’ll sleep with you guys tonight."

The way Jimin and Taehyung light up makes something inside him ache.

"Yay!" Jimin beams, his arms wrapping around Jungkook in an instant, squeezing tight, his warmth seeping in all at once, overwhelming in the best way.

Taehyung hums in satisfaction, his own weight pressing in on the other side, solid and grounding. "You won’t regret it I promise."

Jungkook swallows, his heart still stuttering against his ribs, unsure what to expect. But as he sits there, wrapped between them, held steady in their warmth, a small part of him wonders if maybe—just maybe—this is what belonging feels like.

But as he sits there, encased in their warmth, their scents curling around him like a promise, something settles in his chest.

Jimin and Taehyung don’t waste a second.

Warm hands wrap around his wrists as they pull him up from the couch, excitement making their movements quick, eager. Jungkook barely has time to blink before they’re leading him down the hall, their grips firm but gentle, the press of their bodies against his own radiating heat.

“Come on,” Jimin says, voice filled with soft urgency. “Let’s wash up.” Taehyung hums in agreement, tugging Jungkook toward the bathroom. “Gotta be clean before we sleep.”

There’s no room for hesitation, no time to overthink. They help him wash his face, scrubbing at his cheeks with damp hands, and Jungkook finds himself blinking blearily at them as they pass him a fluffy towel. Their fingers work fast, guiding him into one of their oversized sweaters—Taehyung’s, judging by the scent of sweet raspberries clinging to the fabric.

Then, just as quickly, they lead him toward the den. The moment the door swings open, it hits him.

The scents.

Rich and potent, layered and deep, a tapestry of them.

The sharp spice of Yoongi, the grounding strength of Namjoon, the bright warmth of Hoseok, the soft crispness of Seokjin. Jimin and Taehyung’s own sweet undertones swirl through it all, intertwining in a way that makes Jungkook’s breath catch.

The air is thick with pack.

His body reacts before he can even process it, muscles going sluggish, his limbs feeling heavy—not in discomfort, but in something instinctual. A pull, a gentle lull that seeps into his bones. His head buzzes faintly, a drowsy warmth settling in his chest, his instincts recognizing what this place is.

Safe. Warm. Home.

Jimin and Taehyung don’t seem as affected, already moving forward, leading him deeper inside.

Jungkook stumbles slightly, eyes adjusting to the dim light of the den. The nest is huge—big enough to fit all of them comfortably. A sprawling collection of blankets and pillows, layered and soft, a haven of warmth. The scents are even stronger here, woven into the very fabric, and Jungkook’s body responds without thought, his fingers twitching at his sides, wanting.

Jimin and Taehyung don’t hesitate.

They don’t give him a chance to hesitate.

Jimin and Taehyung pull him forward, their hands warm and insistent as they guide him down, their bodies pressing close, surrounding him in a way that feels both effortless and deliberate. The weight of them anchors him, the plushness of the blankets welcoming him, swallowing him whole. It’s seamless, the way he fits between them, as if he’s always belonged there.

Jimin exhales, a soft, pleased sound, curling in closer until their bodies are flush. His fingers trail lightly over Jungkook’s arm, a barely-there touch, gentle and reassuring. "There we go." His voice is quiet, satisfied, as if something has finally slotted into place.

Beside him, Taehyung lets out a deep sigh, his warmth pressing in from the other side as he drapes an arm around Jungkook’s waist. There’s no hesitation in the way he tugs him in, nuzzling close, his breath ghosting against Jungkook’s skin. "Now it feels complete."

Jungkook can’t speak.

The weight of their words settles deep in his chest, warm and solid and terrifying in its certainty. They say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like there was never a question, like this—this closeness, this belonging—was inevitable. His throat tightens, and he swallows hard against the emotion rising up in him, unwilling to let it spill over.

Instead, he hums softly, a quiet sound of acknowledgment, because he doesn’t trust his voice to hold steady.

Jimin shifts, fingers flexing slightly where they rest against Jungkook’s arm. "Sorry if it was sudden," he murmurs, his voice lower now, quieter, careful. There’s a pause, a moment where he hesitates, as if searching for the right words before he admits, "We just..."

Taehyung finishes for him, his tone softer than before, laced with something almost vulnerable. "Our instincts don’t like you sleeping outside the den."

Jungkook breathes out, slow and deep.

He understands.

The need for closeness. For reassurance. The way wolves seek each other out, thriving in warmth and scent and touch. He’s seen it before—in the way they gravitate toward one another so naturally, pressing close without a second thought. He’s felt it in the way they reach for him, offering their presence like a silent promise, even when he doesn’t know how to ask for it.

And now, lying here, surrounded by them, their warmth wrapping around him like something tangible, something safe—

He gets it.

Jimin and Taehyung shift even closer, their warmth pressing in on either side of him, and Jungkook feels held, wrapped up in something he doesn’t quite understand but can’t bring himself to pull away from. Their scents are everywhere, sweet and familiar, layered into the fabric of the blankets and the skin of his clothes, and it makes his body relax in a way that feels out of his control.

Jimin is the first to speak, his voice softer now, more careful. "Sorry for throwing this at you so suddenly, Kookie." His fingers toy idly with the hem of Jungkook’s sleeve, his touch light, almost hesitant. "We should have talked to you first. But… our instincts have been going crazy."

Taehyung hums in agreement, his cheek pressing lightly against Jungkook’s shoulder, the warmth of his breath grazing his skin. "This isn’t just any nest," he explains, voice a slow, steady drawl. "It’s the real nest. The one where we feel safest, where we’re meant to be. It’s different from sleeping anywhere else."

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, but they must feel the way his muscles subtly tense because Jimin rushes to clarify, "It’s because we both claimed you, Kookie."

Jungkook’s breath catches.

Claimed.

His fingers tighten in the blankets, his pulse stuttering in confusion. He thinks about how Jimin and Taehyung always seem to like being close to him, the way they touch him so easily, so freely. How their scents always linger on his clothes, how their hands reach for his without hesitation. But he never thought too deeply about it. He thought—

He doesn’t know what he thought.

Jimin and Taehyung have been affectionate with him from the very beginning, long before he even felt remotely comfortable with them. It was just who they were, the way they existed—soft, warm, comforting. But this… this feels different.

"Because we claimed you," Taehyung continues, oblivious to the storm of thoughts in Jungkook’s head, "we need you in the nest too. It doesn’t feel right otherwise, but we never had the chance to ask."

Jungkook swallows, the weight of their words pressing into his chest. He wants to say something, to acknowledge it, but before he can figure out what to say, Taehyung speaks again, his voice lower now.

"And also…" He hesitates, choosing his words carefully. "Because of our cycles. Well, we're not due anytime soon but still."

Jungkook blinks.

The room feels too quiet, save for the steady, rhythmic sounds of their breathing. The nest is warm, the blankets thick and heavy over him, but a strange chill creeps up his spine. His lips part, but no words come out.

Jimin notices, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at Jungkook’s expression. "Kookie?"

Jungkook hesitates for a long moment before finally admitting, "I… don’t really know what that means."

Both omegas freeze.

For the first time since they dragged him into the nest, they go completely still, their bodies momentarily tense against his own. Then, almost simultaneously, they pull back just enough to look at him, wide-eyed and blinking.

"You don’t… know?" Jimin repeats slowly, his tone edged with disbelief.

Taehyung tilts his head, brows drawing together in a small furrow. "You don’t know about cycles?"

Jungkook shakes his head, feeling suddenly very out of place, like he’s missing something obvious. "No?"

The omegas exchange a look, something unspoken passing between them.

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably. "Should I?"

"It’s just…" Jimin trails off, his lips parting before pressing together again. "We never really thought to explain it to you."

"Yeah," Taehyung agrees, still watching Jungkook with quiet curiosity. "It’s just natural for us. And the topic never really… came up."

Jungkook frowns, his confusion deepening. "But what is it?"

Jimin hesitates before sighing, running a hand through his hair. "It’s a shifter thing," he says. "Our cycles are... sort of like our own version of a heat—similar to what animals go through in nature, you know? It’s not exactly the same, but it’s when our instincts get stronger—when we crave the nest more, when we get more sensitive to touch and scent."

Taehyung nods. "It’s also when we’re at our most vulnerable," he adds, voice softer now. "Which is why we need the nest. It’s why we’ve been feeling unsettled with you sleeping outside of it. Because even though you’re human, our instincts still recognize you as part of the pack. We claimed you. And now we need you close."

Jungkook’s breath hitches.

His mind swirls with all the new information, trying to make sense of it all. He never really considered how their dynamics worked on a deeper level—how instincts shaped their behaviors, how things like nests and touch weren’t just about comfort, but necessity.

And now, with the way Jimin and Taehyung are looking at him, their eyes full of so much trust, so much expectation—

Jungkook suddenly feels so small.

He licks his lips, unsure of what to say. "I…"

Jimin must sense his unease because he reaches out, fingers brushing gently over Jungkook’s wrist again, grounding him. "We don’t expect you to understand everything right away, Kookie," he murmurs. "We just wanted you to know why this is so important to us."

Jungkook exhales, slow and shaky.

"I… I don’t know what to do," he admits, voice small. "I don’t know what you need from me."

Jimin’s expression softens. "Just be here," he whispers. "That’s all we want."

Taehyung nods, his hand slipping under the blankets to grip Jungkook’s. "We just want you with us, Kookie."

Jungkook stares at them, at the way they watch him with so much quiet affection, and something in him crumbles. His fingers curl around Taehyung’s hand. "Okay," he whispers. "I’ll stay."

Jimin’s face lights up, pure joy shining in his eyes. Taehyung beams, squeezing his hand once before tucking himself closer, nuzzling into his shoulder.

And Jungkook—

Jungkook lets himself sink into them, lets their warmth pull him under. Maybe he doesn’t understand it all yet. But this—this safety, this closeness—

This, he thinks, he might be able to understand.

Jungkook shifts slightly under the covers, his fingers gripping the soft fabric as he listens to them. He can feel the warmth of their bodies pressing in close, their scents thick in the air, but his mind is too preoccupied with confusion to fully sink into the comfort of it.

"So…" He hesitates, tilting his head slightly to look at them. "What does all of that actually mean? Your cycles?"

Jimin and Taehyung exchange a glance again, something unspoken passing between them, before Jimin sighs and settles closer, propping his head on his hand as he meets Jungkook’s gaze. "Shifters have cycles," he explains, voice soft but steady. "They happen every few months. Omegas go through heats, alphas go through ruts, and betas have something in between. It’s just… part of what we are."

Jungkook blinks, his brows furrowing slightly. "Heats? Ruts?" He repeats the words slowly, tasting the unfamiliarity of them on his tongue. "What does that mean?"

Jimin and Taehyung freeze for the second time that night. Jimin’s cheeks dust pink almost immediately, and Taehyung coughs lightly into his fist, looking to the side. Jungkook frowns, watching them curiously.

"Why do you both look like that?" he asks, tilting his head. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No," Taehyung is quick to say, still not looking directly at him. "It’s just…" He exchanges another glance with Jimin before sighing. "It’s not exactly the easiest thing to explain."

Jungkook frowns. "Why not?"

Jimin shifts beside him, his fingers toying with the hem of the blanket as he carefully chooses his words. "Because it’s…" His lips press together before he exhales. "It’s a little personal."

Jungkook only frowns harder. "But you just said it’s natural," he points out. "If it’s normal, why does it feel like you’re embarrassed?"

Jimin lets out a soft groan, hiding his face against the pillow, and Taehyung huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head before finally looking at Jungkook again. "You’re too innocent, Kookie," he murmurs, fond but exasperated. "It’s cute."

Jungkook blinks at them, still confused, but before he can ask again, Jimin lifts his head, cheeks still faintly flushed, and sighs. "Okay, listen," he says, voice a little firmer now. "I’ll explain, but don’t interrupt, okay?"

Jungkook nods immediately, eager to understand.

Jimin draws in a breath before starting. "Heats are…" He pauses, searching for the right words. "When an omega’s body starts to crave different things. But the most important things are safety and physical touch."

Jungkook listens intently, watching as Jimin’s expression softens slightly.

"Heats have two parts," he continues. "The pre-heat and the actual heat."

"Pre-heat," Jungkook echoes, rolling the unfamiliar term on his tongue. "What’s that?"

"It’s the phase before the real heat hits," Taehyung explains, his voice gentler now. "It can last anywhere from a few hours to a full day. During that time, an omega’s body starts preparing. We get more sensitive, our emotions get stronger, and we start feeling…" He hesitates, searching for the right word. "Needy."

Jungkook tilts his head. "Needy?"

Jimin huffs a quiet laugh, his cheeks still faintly pink. "Yeah," he admits. "We crave affection more than usual. It’s not something we can really control—it’s instinctual. Our omega side starts needing things, and it’s hard to ignore."

Jungkook blinks, taking it all in. "And what happens after pre-heat?"

Taehyung shifts slightly, curling into the blankets. "Then the real heat starts," he murmurs. "That’s when things get intense."

Jungkook watches them both carefully, trying to make sense of it all. "So… you’re saying your bodies just decide you need more touch and comfort?"

Jimin nods. "You could say that, yes."

Jungkook frowns. "That doesn’t sound bad, though. Why were you both acting all weird about explaining it?"

Jimin groans again, and Taehyung outright laughs, reaching out to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. "Because there’s more to it, Kookie," he says, amusement dancing in his voice. "And we’re not ready to talk about all of that just yet."

Jungkook pouts, not satisfied with that answer, but Jimin shakes his head. "Just focus on this for now, okay?" he says. "The most important thing is that when we go into pre-heat, we need comfort. We need the nest, we need scenting, we need people we trust close to us. But don’t worry, we’re not due for a while. I think our instincts just got a little scrambled after what happened at the river."

Jungkook bites his lip, something warm curling in his chest. They needed him.

They wanted him here.

Not just as company, not just as a friend—as part of them.

Jungkook swallows past the sudden lump in his throat and nods. "Okay," he murmurs. "I think I get it now."

Jimin and Taehyung smile, their warmth pressing even closer, and Jungkook lets himself relax into them, surrounded by their comfort, their trust.

Maybe he doesn’t understand everything yet.

But he’s starting to.

Notes:

Hey guys!! 😆✨

I swear, Seokjin lives to fluster Kookie in the kitchen. You just know he was doing all of that on purpose just to rile him up! 😏🔥 Poor Jungkook never stood a chance!
And can we talk about Taehyung and Jimin inviting Jungkook to sleep in the pack nest?? 🤭 Like, hello?? You’re not even mated yet, guys! Scandalous behavior! 😂
Also, I know Vmin were being deliberately vague when explaining their heats to Kookie. They’re totally avoiding details on purpose! But let’s be real—they’ll have to spill eventually, especially with those smut tags lurking in the background. 👀🔥

On another note, I’m so happy it’s finally getting warmer! ☀️🌿 The weather is so much nicer now. Don’t get me wrong—I actually like winter (I can’t handle extreme heat 🥵), but seasonal depression is real. I went for a walk today to hit my 10k steps goal, and the second that sun hit me, I felt like the happiest person alive! 😂✨

Also, I went shopping today since I’m starting this No Dairy / No Refined Sugar / No Gluten diet for a while… and OMG, why is it so hard to find stuff that doesn’t have at least one of those?? 😩 Like, am I supposed to survive on just fruits and vegetables for weeks?! 🥲 Okay, I know I can have things like eggs, meat, tofu, and plant-based milk, but still!
The real struggle? Sweet treats. Every time I find a good recipe on TikTok, it has bananas—the bane of my existence. 🍌😤

I keep rambling in these notes, but honestly, this feels like my little diary at this point! 😂
Anyway, hope you’re all doing well! 💖💫

Chapter 41: A Flustered Heart

Summary:

Jungkook is just a flustered mess

Jungkook hovers in the space between sleep and wakefulness, his body heavy with warmth, cocooned between Jimin and Taehyung.

The pack nest is soft, layers of blankets and pillows forming a protective embrace around him, and the gentle rise and fall of the omegas’ breathing only lulls him deeper into that hazy in-between state.

The den door creaks open, and though his consciousness stirs, the omegas beside him remain unaffected, their scents steady and undisturbed. The air shifts slightly as the presence of their hyungs fills the room, familiar scents of wood, spice, and soft florals mingling with the sweeter ones already settled in the space.

Jungkook hears their voices, low and careful, as if they don’t want to wake them.

"Look at them, they look so cute."

The fondness in Seokjin’s voice is unmistakable. There’s a soft huff of amusement, and Jungkook thinks it might be Hoseok.

"We knew Minnie and Tae would ask him to sleep with them eventually," Hoseok murmurs. "They’ve been waiting for the right time."

Jungkook breathes in deeply, warmth pooling in his chest. He doesn’t know why it makes him feel soothed to hear that—like it had been inevitable that he would end up here, tucked safely in the pack nest, with them.

There’s a quiet pause. Then, Namjoon sighs.

"I just hope it’s not too much for him."

That makes Jungkook’s barely-conscious mind stir a little more.

"He’s still adjusting," Yoongi adds, voice quieter, thoughtful. "Maybe we’re pushing too fast."

Jungkook’s fingers twitch against the blanket, something deep inside him clenching at their words.

Too fast?

Is that what they think? That this—being here, in the nest, with them—is too much?

Yoongi’s voice carries through the stillness again. "Do you think he’s comfortable?"

Jungkook wants to answer. He wants to say that he is, that he likes being here, that it doesn’t feel like too much at all. But his body feels sluggish with warmth, and the weight of Jimin and Taehyung pressed against him keeps him anchored in place, teetering on the edge of sleep.

"Sharing the nest is a big step," Yoongi continues, his voice always so steady, so grounding. "It’s intimate."

"If he ever gets uncomfortable, we stop immediately," Namjoon says firmly, the unwavering pack alpha in him surfacing even in the softest of moments.

Jungkook’s chest tightens. He doesn’t know what he expected, but the care in their words settles over him like something heavy, something safe.

A soft rustle of movement follows, and then there’s a gentle touch in his hair—fingers threading through the strands with slow, deliberate care. It’s Seokjin. Jungkook knows that even without opening his eyes, can recognize the soothing warmth of the beta’s presence.

A quiet, pleased sleepy hum escapes Jungkook before he can stop it, and there’s a chuckle in response.

"He’s already settling so well," Hoseok says, amusement lacing his tone. "I think he likes it here more than even he realizes."

Jungkook doesn’t fight the way his body melts under the touch, the way his muscles loosen completely, like something inside of him finally feels right. The tension he didn’t even realize he was holding seeps away, the soft scents of his pack lulling him deeper into rest.

Maybe they were worried about pushing too fast.

But Jungkook?

Jungkook is already home.

Jungkook barely registers the shift in conversation at first, still floating somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, his body warm and relaxed between Jimin and Taehyung. Their scents cocoon him, grounding him, but the low murmurs of the hyungs keep tugging at the edges of his consciousness, pulling him closer to awareness.

"Sleeping with Minnie and Tae is one thing," Namjoon murmurs, voice thick with quiet concern. "But sleeping with all of us… that might be too much for him."

"He’s still human," Yoongi adds, voice always steady, always measured. "We have to be careful with him. He might not be comfortable with this yet."

Jungkook frowns slightly, barely resisting the urge to shift under the weight of their words. Too much? They think this is too much for him? He knows they’re worried, that they’re only trying to be careful with him. But something inside him clenches at the thought that they might hesitate—that they might hold back because they think he can’t handle it.

The thought alone is enough to wake him up a little more. He blinks slowly, eyes cracking open, ready to sit up, ready to say something—

And then he sees them. And immediately regrets it.

Namjoon and Yoongi are standing near the dresser, both still in the middle of changing.

Both still shirtless.

Jungkook freezes.

Seokjin and Hoseok are already dressed, their loose shirts and sweatpants comfortably in place, but Namjoon and Yoongi—they’re not wearing shirts. They’re wearing nothing but loose sleep shorts, their bare chests on full display under the soft glow of the bedside lantern.

Jungkook feels like he’s been punched in the face.

Namjoon’s broad frame shifts as he reaches for his discarded shirt, muscles in his back and arms flexing with effortless ease. His skin is golden in the dim light, the smooth planes of his chest interrupted only by the faintest scars near his ribs—ones Jungkook has never seen before. His hands move slowly, unhurried, and Jungkook’s stomach flutters in a way he doesn’t know how to name.

Yoongi, on the other hand, is completely unbothered. He drags a towel over his damp hair, his lean, toned body on full display as he works, his pale skin practically glowing under the soft lighting. There’s something unfair about the way he moves, so casual in his own skin, as if he has no idea how devastating he looks standing there, all sharp collarbones and defined lines.

Jungkook doesn’t mean to make a sound. But the overwhelmed, helpless noise slips past his lips before he can stop it. A small, sharp inhale—barely audible, barely anything at all.

But it’s enough.

All at once, they turn to him.

Namjoon pauses, his shirt still dangling from his fingertips, brows furrowing. Yoongi blinks, his head tilting slightly. Seokjin and Hoseok, who had been standing near the entrance to the nest, immediately step closer, concern flickering across their faces.

"Did we wake him?" Hoseok whispers.

"Jungkookie?" Seokjin’s voice is softer, coaxing.

Jungkook wants to disappear. His face burns, heat rushing up his neck and settling in his ears, and suddenly the room feels too warm, too much, too everything. Namjoon’s brows knit together, concern flashing in his eyes. "Are you okay Kook-ah?"

Jungkook is not okay.

Because Namjoon is still shirtless. Because Yoongi still hasn’t put anything on. Because Jungkook knows his face must be betraying him right now, knows that his scent is probably doing the same thing, knows that he’s completely trapped.

And worst of all—

None of them look like they’re in any hurry to cover up. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will himself back to sleep, back into the safety of unconsciousness, but it’s too late. He’s fully awake now. And he’s not going to survive this. Jungkook makes another sound, this one a soft, helpless whine—high with embarrassment, caught somewhere between mortification and frustration. But the second it leaves his lips, the atmosphere in the room changes.

All four hyungs tense. Their voices, already low and gentle, turn even softer—even more worried.

"Jungkookie?" Seokjin calls, voice laced with concern.

"What’s wrong, pup?" Hoseok murmurs.

"Did something happen?" Yoongi’s voice is sharper now, the lazy ease from before completely gone.

"Is he uncomfortable?" Namjoon asks, voice tight. "Does the nest feel too warm? Did we wake you up?"

Jungkook wants to die.

It’s embarrassment, not distress. But they’re misreading him completely, mistaking the heat rising in his cheeks for something else entirely. He doesn’t trust his voice to set them straight, doesn’t even know how to begin explaining himself, so he does the only thing he can do—

He buries his face into the pillow. It’s an instinctive, desperate attempt to hide himself, to disappear from the situation entirely. But before he can even settle—before he can curl himself into a ball and hope for the moment to pass—

He’s being lifted.

Strong arms slide under his body, effortlessly pulling him up and away from the warm weight of Jimin and Taehyung. Jungkook barely has time to react before he’s pressed against something solid and broad, completely enveloped in warmth.

And the scent—

Namjoon.

The realization nearly makes him dizzy. The deep, grounding mix of cedarwood and musk fills his lungs, strong and steady, wrapping around him in a way that makes his body instinctively relax. "Shh," Namjoon soothes, shifting him carefully, keeping him secure in his arms. "I’ve got you, Jungkookie. Just breathe, okay?"

Jungkook does breathe—but only because he doesn’t have a choice. He doesn’t have the strength to push away, doesn’t have the willpower to resist the warmth radiating from Namjoon’s chest.

He doesn’t even realize that Namjoon is moving until the soft rustle of blankets shifts beneath them. He opens his eyes just a little, peeking up past the thick curve of Namjoon’s shoulder, and realizes that the alpha led them further away from Jimin and Taehyung now.

Namjoon is cradling him just outside the center of the nest, holding him securely while keeping him separate from the sleeping omegas.

Like he’s trying to remove him from whatever was upsetting him.

Like he’s trying to protect him.

The realization is enough to make Jungkook’s stomach flip and he can’t breathe.

Not because something is wrong—but because everything is wrong. Because suddenly, all he can smell is Namjoon. The sharp, deep woodiness of cedarwood, the smooth richness of musk, the weight of alpha wrapped around him so thickly it makes his head spin. It’s overwhelming. It’s intoxicating. It’s too much.

His breath stutters, chest rising and falling too quickly, and yet no air seems to reach his lungs. His fingers twitch against the bare heat of Namjoon’s chest, the realization sinking in like a delayed punch to the gut—

Bare.

Skin.

He’s touching the alpha's bare skin.

Jungkook makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, something tiny and pathetic, but it only seems to make things worse.

"Kook-ah?" Namjoon’s voice is low, a murmur of concern just above his head.

It should ground him, should bring him back to reality—but it doesn’t. Not when the rumble of it vibrates through him, his cheek pressed flush against the firm muscle of Namjoon’s shoulder. Not when he’s so close that he can feel the slow, steady rhythm of the alpha’s heartbeat beneath his fingertips.

Jungkook makes another sound—this time of pure, unfiltered mortification—and tries to hide.

He buries his face even more into the dip of Namjoon’s shoulder, attempting to shrink in on himself, but all it does is make Namjoon hold him tighter. Large hands press against his back, one between his shoulder blades, the other firm and steady against the small of his back.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay," Namjoon soothes, rubbing slow, warm circles over Jungkook’s spine. "What’s wrong pup? Does something hurt? Are you feeling sick?"

Jungkook is sick—sick with embarrassment.

But his body won’t listen, won’t obey the frantic signals his brain is sending it. He should move. He should pull away. But instead, he curls in further, gripping onto Namjoon’s shoulders before he can stop himself.

Somewhere beyond the suffocating haze of Namjoon’s scent, he can hear the others speaking.

"What happened?" Seokjin asks, voice soft with concern.

"Did he have a nightmare?" Hoseok murmurs.

"Kook-ah, talk to us please," Yoongi says, a rare thread of worry woven through his normally steady tone.

Jungkook wants to talk—really, he does—but how can he when his thoughts are melting into a useless, jumbled mess? How can he when every inhale drowns him deeper in Namjoon’s scent, thick with warmth and security and alpha? When everything is starting to feel fuzzy?

He screws his eyes shut, hands fisting into Namjoon’s skin as he tries—fails—to get a grip on himself. His body feels sluggish, the tension slowly bleeding out of him against his will. Is this what being scent-drunk feels like? They’ve mentioned it before—how he had experienced it once, that day when they had all scented him.

And somehow, he feels the same now. Maybe it’s because he’s in the nest, surrounded by their warmth. Maybe it’s because Namjoon’s scent is heavier than usual, thick with concern, wrapping around him like a tangible thing. Or maybe it’s simply because he’s sensitive. They’ve told him he was.

"I don’t think he’s fully awake," Hoseok whispers after a beat. "Maybe he’s just disoriented?"

"Maybe," Yoongi agrees, but he doesn’t sound convinced. "Or maybe he’s not comfortable with this. Maybe we rushed him too soon."

Jungkook shakes his head before he even realizes he’s doing it, a tiny, desperate movement against Namjoon’s shoulder. He’s not uncomfortable—he’s just embarrassed. Just overwhelmed. But they seem to mistake the motion for something else entirely.

"See?" Yoongi sighs. "I knew this was too fast for him. We should’ve eased him into it—"

"But he agreed," Seokjin counters, though his voice is quiet. "And it’s not like we’re forcing him. We just—" He exhales, rubbing at his face. "I don’t know. Maybe it’s different for humans."

"Jungkookie?" Hoseok calls again, voice softer this time, coaxing. "Can you talk to us, pretty?"

Jungkook can’t. Not when he’s still here, in Namjoon’s arms, against Namjoon’s bare skin, absorbing the sheer heat of him like he’s something solid and steady and inescapable. Not when his head is still tucked into the crook of Namjoon’s neck, where his scent lingers the strongest, rich and overwhelming. Not when his mind is growing hazy, the edges of his thoughts blurring, making it harder to think—harder to speak.

The thought makes his breath stutter, his fingers twitching against Namjoon’s shoulders again—his very warm, very broad shoulder.

Namjoon notices.

"Hey, Jungkookie," he murmurs again, voice gentle yet firm. "Are you okay?"

Jungkook is not okay. He is the furthest thing from okay. And the worst part?

He has no idea how to make them understand that.

Jungkook feels it the moment Namjoon decides to take control.

It’s subtle at first—a shift in the weight of his touch, a quiet but resolute breath. But then Namjoon is cradling Jungkook’s face in both hands, the warmth of his palms firm yet impossibly gentle, as if he’s afraid Jungkook might break beneath his touch.

"Pup," Namjoon murmurs, his voice softer now, coaxing. "Look at me. Look at alpha."

Jungkook’s heart stumbles.

The words affect him immediatly. The moment Namjoon speaks, something deep inside him tightens, an unfamiliar sensation coiling low in his stomach. It’s not fear, not quite, but a quiet, insistent urge to listen, to follow—like the command settles into his bones before he even has the chance to question it.

He has to listen.

His body moves before his mind can catch up, his wide, overwhelmed eyes lifting to meet Namjoon’s. The alpha inhales sharply the moment their gazes lock. His brows furrow, his worried eyes scanning every inch of Jungkook’s face, as if searching for something—an injury, a sign of pain, an answer to why Jungkook is so visibly distressed.

"What happened hum?" Namjoon asks, his thumbs brushing over Jungkook’s cheekbones in slow, soothing strokes. "Why do you look like that, baby?"

Jungkook’s breath shudders.

Baby.

It’s not the first time Namjoon has called him that. Both he and Yoongi have said it before—softly, reassuringly, on that night when Jungkook had come running to the pack house, shaken and vulnerable after his nightmare. But somehow, this time feels different. Maybe because things have changed now, because they’re courting him.

Maybe because Namjoon’s voice is lower, smoother, wrapping around him like something tangible. Or maybe it’s the weight of the alpha’s touch, steady and grounding, the way his scent lingers thick in the air, leaving no space for doubt. Whatever the reason, Jungkook doesn’t know why it’s affecting him so much—but right now, in this moment, it does.

His throat feels tight.

Namjoon tilts his head, concern deepening. "Kook-ah?"

Jungkook wants to answer. He really does. But the words are stuck, tangled up in the mess of emotions twisting in his chest. His face feels impossibly warm, and his body is betraying him in ways he doesn’t know how to handle. His fingers twitch against Namjoon’s bare shoulders, desperate for an anchor, but the contact only worsens the problem.

It’s too much.

Too much heat.

Too much Namjoon.

Too much alpha.

And Jungkook doesn’t know how to breathe through it.

He feels trapped—completely consumed by everything. His senses, overloaded and spinning, are pulling him in every direction. Namjoon’s warm, protective presence surrounds him, his chest rising and falling beneath Jungkook’s head, his scent thick and overwhelming.

Every breath he takes is filled with the intensity of the alpha’s smell, and it’s making him feel dizzy. His body burns with an unfamiliar need to be closer, to sink deeper into the comforting heat of Namjoon’s arms. But all the while, he can feel the weight of the others’ eyes on him, and it’s suffocating.

Jungkook’s vision swims, everything around him dissolving into a hazy blur. He can’t focus. His body trembles in the aftermath of Namjoon’s touch, in the warmth of his proximity. The words—look at alpha—echo in his head, reverberating with an undeniable pull, a power he doesn’t understand but feels in every fiber of his being. His instincts scream at him to obey, to yield, to give in to whatever this is.

But something inside him resists. Not because he wants to pull away—no, it’s the opposite. He likes it. Too much, maybe. He likes being in Namjoon’s arms, being held close like this. He likes the way the alpha calls him pup and baby, the way his scent wraps around him, grounding and intoxicating all at once. The way he touches him—so soft, yet so firm, so effortlessly dominant without even realizing it.

And that’s the problem.

Jungkook shouldn’t feel this way. He tells himself that over and over, but it doesn’t change the fact that he does. That his heart stumbles every time they’re near. That heat curls in his stomach at the barest brush of their touch. And if they knew—if they realized why he gets so flustered, why his gaze lingers a second too long on their bare chests—what would they think of him?

The thought alone makes his face burn. Makes his stomach twist with something dangerously close to shame. Because he wants this. Wants them.

And that scares him.

He doesn’t want to make them uncomfortable. Doesn’t want to ruin whatever delicate thing exists between them by wanting too much. So he forces it down, buries it deep, and pretends he doesn’t feel the way his body still trembles at Namjoon’s touch.

Then, Yoongi moves.

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat, his body tightening. His presence, always so commanding, only makes things worse. Jungkook doesn’t know how to handle this, how to handle the sharp, careful attention of the others.

Without warning, Yoongi’s fingers are on his chin, gently but firmly tilting his head up so that he’s forced to look at him. It’s as if the action itself has the power to shatter what little control Jungkook has left.

He whimpers.

It’s involuntary. A tiny, helpless sound that slips past his lips before he can even think about stopping it. His body reacts without his permission, his senses overwhelmed by Yoongi’s proximity, by the touch of his hand on his face.

Yoongi freezes. His sharp gaze sweeps over Jungkook’s face with the precision of someone who is used to observing every little detail, and Jungkook feels exposed, like a delicate butterfly under the scrutiny of his intense eyes.

Yoongi’s eyes narrow slightly, and his voice comes out slow, almost too calm in the heavy silence that has settled. "Jungkook," he says, his voice an unreadable mix of concern and something else, something deeper. "Your eyes are unfocused. Your pupils are dilated. Are you distressed pup?"

Jungkook wants to answer, wants to speak, but his throat is tight, and the words are caught somewhere in the chaos of his mind. He’s not distressed, not in the way they’re thinking, but he can’t bring himself to say it. How can he, when all he feels is the weight of their attention, of the overwhelming strength of their presence? How can he explain the way his body is betraying him, how it’s responding to them in ways he doesn’t understand?

But then, just when Jungkook feels like he might collapse from the intensity of the moment, Hoseok speaks up.

His voice cuts through the tension like a calm breeze, though it’s laced with confusion. "Wait..." Hoseok murmurs, his brow knitting together as he studies Jungkook intently. His gaze sharpens, tracing over his flushed cheeks, the dazed look in his eyes. Then, he inhales—and his expression shifts.  

"He doesn’t smell distressed," he says, voice tinged with surprise. "His scent… it’s sweet." A pause, "I think he's scent-drunk."

Jungkook doesn’t understand what’s happening to him. The moment those words are out, everything shifts. The warmth of Namjoon had once been a comfort, but now it feels like a distant memory, a fading connection he can’t quite hold onto. Namjoon’s arms, which had been tightly cradling him just moments ago, start to loosen. The shift is so subtle at first that Jungkook doesn’t even realize what’s happening until it’s too late.

His body reacts before his mind has time to catch up. His chest aches, a hollow feeling spreading deep in his bones. He can feel the space widening between them, like something precious is being taken away from him, something he can’t explain. His stomach churns in a way that feels like a void opening inside him, pulling at everything that holds him together.

And then, the tears start to fall.

Jungkook doesn’t even have the clarity to comprehend why he’s crying. It’s all a jumbled mess in his head—the confusion, the unfamiliarity of the sensations, the overwhelming heat in his body, and the sudden distance between him and Namjoon. The tears fall freely, hot and sharp against his skin, and he can’t stop them. His breath catches, shuddering in sobs that seem to come from a place deeper than he understands.

Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Seokjin all freeze. The room goes silent except for the soft sound of Jungkook’s broken breaths. The hyungs, already worried, seem to feel the shift in the air, their gazes softening with concern. Namjoon’s hands hover near Jungkook for a brief moment, unsure, hesitant.

Namjoon doesn’t pull him in. His arms, usually so steady, so sure, hover uselessly at his sides. There’s a distance now—one that wasn’t there before, one that feels unnatural, wrong. Jungkook doesn’t understand it, doesn’t know what changed, but he feels it in the way Namjoon hesitates, in the way his warmth lingers just out of reach.  

Something is broken between them. He doesn’t know how or why, only that the alpha—who always knows what to do, who always makes him feel safe—suddenly seems just as lost as he is.

Jungkook feels that distance keenly. It’s like a crack in his chest that widens with every heartbeat. Why? His mind is racing, but there are no answers, just an emptiness that he can’t fill.

“I-I’m sorry,” Jungkook’s voice is cracked, barely a whisper, but it’s the only thing he can manage to say through his tears. He grips Namjoon’s shoulders tighter, trying to pull himself closer to the warmth that he’s so desperate for. He doesn’t understand why this is happening, why he’s reacting like this. Why the comfort he once felt in Namjoon’s arms has turned into a deep, hollow ache.

“I’m s-sorry,” he repeats, and his voice breaks under the weight of the words. He feels stupid. Pathetic, even. He’s been through so much, but this—this—this is new. This vulnerability, this emotional reaction that feels so raw and uncontrollable, is so far beyond what he’s used to.

Jungkook’s apologies spill from his lips, raw and unsteady, each word laced with desperation. His voice trembles, cracking under the weight of everything he’s feeling. And Namjoon—Namjoon understands then. Without hesitation, he pulls Jungkook back into his arms, holding him close, as if grounding him, as if telling him without words that there’s nothing to apologize for.

His arms tighten around him, drawing him closer into the warm embrace of safety. The moment those strong arms lock back around him, the tremors in Jungkook’s body cease, and the rush of tears slows until it stops altogether. It’s as if the very act of Namjoon holding him is enough to quell all the turmoil inside him. The confusion, the shame, the overwhelming vulnerability—all of it seems to dissipate with the simple comfort of the alpha’s presence.

The room feels distant now, fading into a quiet hum in the background. Jungkook can still hear the hyungs, their worried murmurs circling around him, but the weight of their concern is somehow softer now. Their voices are almost like a lullaby, blending into the warmth of Namjoon’s embrace. The overwhelming scent of the alpha is all around him, heavy, grounding, and incredibly comforting. It feels like nothing in the world could harm him as long as he stays here, nestled against Namjoon’s chest.

Jungkook doesn’t know how long he stays there, curled up in Namjoon’s arms, the scent of him and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat pulling him into a state of quiet exhaustion. The whole ordeal—his distress, his confusion—has drained him more than he realized. Every fiber of his being feels heavy, like his body is fighting the pull of sleep and relaxation. But no matter how hard he tries to stay awake, his eyelids grow heavy, the tension in his body loosening under Namjoon’s calming hold.

“Baby,” Namjoon’s voice is soft and steady, his hands running gentle circles on his back as if trying to soothe him. He asks, almost hesitantly, “Can you nod your head yes or no for me? I need to ask you something.”

Jungkook’s body is sluggish, still recovering from the emotional storm, but the clarity in Namjoon’s voice cuts through the haze. He gathers what little strength he has left and nods slowly, the movement feeling like the most natural thing in the world. He hears Namjoon’s breath catch for a moment before the alpha’s voice wraps around him like a protective shield.

“That’s my good boy,” Namjoon murmurs, the praise sending a shiver of warmth through Jungkook’s chest. The words seem to wash over him, soothing him in a way he can’t quite explain. Namjoon’s touch, his soothing tone, makes him feel safe in a way that nothing else has before.

Jungkook’s body, completely lax in Namjoon’s arms, melts further into the alpha’s hold. It’s like the tension he’s been holding onto for so long is finally unraveling, the knots slowly loosening one by one. His breaths become slower, deeper, and he leans into Namjoon, the warmth of the alpha’s body against his soothing his mind.

For the first time since this whole ordeal began, Jungkook feels like he can breathe again—like everything is okay. He’s not sure what happened or why it hit him so hard, but with Namjoon holding him like this, he feels safe. He feels understood. And that’s all he needs right now.

The alpha's voice, soothing and steady, vibrates through Jungkook’s chest as he speaks. "You don’t have to tell us anything right now, Kookie," he murmurs softly, his large hands stroking the back of Jungkook’s neck with a reassuring rhythm. "We’ll talk tomorrow. Rest now, okay?"

Jungkook, still feeling the exhaustion from everything that just happened, finds comfort in the alpha’s words. His mind feels heavy, like a thick fog has descended over it, but he can still make out Namjoon’s voice—steady, comforting, anchoring him. The tension in his chest that had once been so tight seems to melt away with every soothing word.

Namjoon shifts slightly, pulling Jungkook a little closer, and then he asks, his voice lower, just above a whisper, "Do you still want to sleep in the nest with us, pup?"

Jungkook doesn’t even hesitate. He nods slowly, his lips trembling just slightly from the last remnants of his emotional overload. He’s exhausted—both physically and mentally—but being close to them, especially Namjoon, feels so right. It feels like safety in its purest form, something he didn’t even realize he craved until now.

Namjoon’s arms tighten around him, holding him even closer, and his voice takes on a possessive edge that sends a jolt of warmth through Jungkook. "I want you to sleep in my arms tonight," he says, voice thick with something tender, almost too intense. "My alpha won’t settle otherwise."

Jungkook can feel his body instinctively relaxing into Namjoon’s embrace, and without thinking, he nods again, more firmly this time. He’s still unsure of all the things swirling in his mind, but the alpha’s presence, his protective hold, and his soft words bring him a sense of peace that Jungkook can’t explain.

"It’s okay," Jungkook whispers, barely able to hear his own voice. "I wanna stay with you hyung."

The words feel like a weight lifted off his chest. The moment he speaks them, Namjoon exhales, almost as if he’s been holding his breath, and a soft chuckle escapes his lips. "Good boy," he murmurs, his lips brushing the top of Jungkook’s head before his arms shift to gently maneuver him.

Jungkook is lifted again, manhandled in the gentlest of ways—pulled into a more comfortable position until they’re lying down next to Jimin and Taehyung, still nestled in the soft blankets of the nest. Namjoon’s body heat wraps around him like a blanket, the alpha’s presence towering above him in a way that feels both overwhelming and soothing at the same time.

Namjoon doesn’t let go. He holds Jungkook close, his arms a firm, warm cage around him. "Rest now, pup," Namjoon says softly, his breath brushing against the back of his neck. "Alpha's here, you’re safe with me."

Jungkook’s body, already heavy with exhaustion, falls even deeper into the embrace of sleep, his mind clouded but comforted by the weight of Namjoon’s protection. He lets out a soft breath, melting into the warmth of the nest and the embrace of the alpha.

The last thing Jungkook feels before sleep completely overtakes him is the soft, tender press of Namjoon’s lips against the top of his head. The kiss is slow and lingering, full of something that makes Jungkook’s heart flutter in his chest. The possessive, protective feeling in Namjoon’s touch and words fills him with warmth, as if he’s finally found the place where he belongs.

And with that, Jungkook falls asleep—safe, loved, and held by his alpha.

 

--

 

Jungkook wakes slowly, the weight of the blankets around him pressing down with comforting warmth. He blinks at the soft light creeping in from the window, his mind still foggy from sleep. For a moment, everything feels calm—familiar—but then the memories from the previous night come crashing back with the force of a tidal wave, leaving him breathless.

The way he had gotten so flustered, his heart pounding in his chest when Namjoon and Yoongi had been shirtless. How his skin had flushed, how he had tried so hard to hide his embarrassment, but failed. The way they must have seen it, the way he must have looked so vulnerable and exposed.

God, he hopes they didn't notice. He hopes they didn't realize that the reason he had been so distressed wasn’t just because of the scents or the closeness. It was because, in that moment, the bare skin of his hyungs had stirred something in him—something unfamiliar, something that made him feel small and exposed, but also... desired. The realization tightens his chest in a painful knot.

Why do I always do this? His mind runs in circles, overthinking every moment, analyzing every small detail, torturing himself with imagined thoughts of what Namjoon and Yoongi must have thought of him. Of how flustered he must have looked, of how he should’ve been more composed, more respectful.

They’re courting him, sure—but he’s not theirs yet and they're not his either. The realization sends a wave of embarrassment through him, and he can feel his cheeks burn as if they’re still being marked by his mortification from last night.

His eyes drop to the soft blankets beneath him, his body still feeling like it’s floating, heavy with the sensation of being so exposed. He wants nothing more than to sink into the bed and disappear. The very thought of Yoongi and Namjoon knowing just how flustered he was, how much the sight of their naked chests had affected him... it makes him want to curl into himself and never leave the warmth of this nest. Please don’t let them know, he thinks desperately.

So lost in his spiraling thoughts, Jungkook doesn’t notice the quiet stirrings beside him. He doesn’t hear the soft breaths of Taehyung and Jimin slowly waking up, their presence a quiet, grounding force at first. But then, the movement is undeniable.

Taehyung shifts slightly, his arms circling around Jungkook’s waist, pulling him gently closer, his warmth flooding Jungkook’s senses. Jimin, too, seems to stir, his body coming closer until it presses gently against Jungkook’s back, wrapping him in the soothing comfort of his embrace.

At first, Jungkook is too lost in his self-consciousness to realize what’s happening. But as Taehyung’s solid chest presses against his front, and Jimin’s body curves around his back, he feels the weight of their affection. Their warmth is like a shield, surrounding him on all sides, making him feel small but cherished, protected in the way only his hyungs know how to make him feel.

A soft, comforting hum escapes Jimin, and Jungkook can feel the vibration of his voice through his back as he speaks, his words a low murmur of affection. “Good morning, pup,” he whispers, the petname sliding from his lips like the gentlest caress. It’s soothing, and it makes Jungkook’s heart skip a beat, but the warmth of it only increases his discomfort.

The thought of Jimin and Taehyung knowing, of them realizing that he had been so flustered by the alphas the night before... it makes him feel exposed, like he’s wearing his heart on his sleeve for them to see, and that thought makes him want to shrink away.

But then Taehyung leans in closer, his breath soft against Jungkook’s neck, his body melding with his. “You’re so cute, Kookie,” he murmurs, his voice thick with affection, his chest pressing in firm but gentle against Jungkook’s. The feeling of Taehyung’s arms around him, holding him so close, so securely, makes the overwhelming emotions flood back.

Jungkook tries to breathe, tries to calm himself, but his thoughts keep racing. His body is too sensitive, too aware of how much he craves this closeness, this affection, but his mind keeps spinning in circles, stuck on how foolish he must have looked the night before.

Jimin shifts behind him, a soft breath of laughter escaping him as he presses a tender kiss to the back of Jungkook’s neck. It’s a quiet, intimate gesture, and it sends a thrill down Jungkook’s spine. The feeling is so soft, so safe, but it only deepens his discomfort. How could they not have noticed how flustered I was? he wonders. How could they not know?

But then it hits him—they had both been sleeping soundly, undisturbed by the storm raging inside him. Blissfully unaware of his turmoil. He can only hope they had slept through all of it, that they hadn’t heard the shaky breaths, the quiet gasps, the way his body had betrayed him in the dead of night.

Despite his overwhelming embarrassment, despite the racing thoughts that make him feel like he’s drowning in them, there’s something calming about being wrapped up in the arms of Jimin and Taehyung. Their bodies are warm, their affection is tangible, and though Jungkook’s heart feels like it might burst from both the warmth and the pressure of his own emotions, he also feels something else, safe.

Their closeness, their soft murmurs, the way they hold him without question, without expectation—Jungkook can’t help but melt into them. Slowly, he exhales, letting the tension in his body relax just a little. He doesn’t understand why he feels so vulnerable, so embarrassed, but in this moment, with Taehyung and Jimin holding him, he also feels... right. He feels wanted in a way that he isn’t sure he’s ever truly felt before, and maybe, just maybe, that’s enough to silence the storm of insecurities raging in his chest, even if only for a little while.

They don’t know. They couldn’t possibly know. And for now, maybe that’s the most comforting thought of all.

Jungkook is lost in the warmth of Taehyung and Jimin's embrace, his mind still clouded by the overwhelming flood of emotions from the previous night. The soft, steady pressure of Taehyung’s body against his front and Jimin’s soothing presence at his back are the only things keeping him grounded right now. But then, Jimin’s voice comes, teasing, just behind his ear.

“Hey, pup,” Jimin’s words are light, but they send a shiver down Jungkook’s spine, his breath catching in his throat. His lips graze lightly over Jungkook’s nape, and the touch is so soft, so intimate, it makes his entire body tense. “Why are you so flustered this early? You’re all flushed.”

Jungkook tries to swallow, but the words lodge in his throat. His heart races at the sound of Jimin's knowing tone, the way it lingers in the air like a gentle, teasing caress. The feeling of his breath on his skin is both soothing and incredibly overwhelming, and it only heightens the embarrassment pooling in his chest. God, why is it so hard to breathe right now?

Before he can gather himself enough to answer, Taehyung hums low in his throat, his lips brushing against Jungkook’s pulse point. The vibration of his voice feels like a jolt to Jungkook’s already frazzled nerves. “Are we the reason, Kookie?” Taehyung asks, his words full of teasing curiosity, his mouth pressing lightly against Jungkook’s throat as if searching for the answer.

Jungkook’s breath catches, and his body stiffens. His lips part, but no sound comes out. The weight of the question, the awareness that both of them can sense how much he’s struggling, leaves him frozen. He feels like he’s sinking, drowning in his own confusion, his cheeks burning hot enough to make him wish he could just disappear.

But then Jimin chuckles softly behind him, the sound rich with amusement, but there’s something else underneath it—a knowing warmth that makes Jungkook want to hide.

Jimin doesn’t wait for an answer. “I think it’s not because of us Taetae,” he says with a knowing edge, his voice barely a whisper against the back of Jungkook’s neck. “But…” He lets the word trail off, a hint of something mischievous in his tone.

Jungkook freezes, his body going rigid at the words. His eyes widen, and his heartbeat accelerates as a cold chill runs through him. He’s still, the blood draining from his face. His throat tightens, and he can feel the air around him growing heavier, as if he’s suffocating in the quiet, thick silence that has followed Jimin’s words.

Jimin’s hand slides gently down to Jungkook’s belly, the soft, tender touch contrasting with the tension crawling through Jungkook’s skin. “The hyungs explained what happened last night, didn’t they?” Jimin’s words are gentle, but there’s no mistaking the knowing tone behind them. “They might have told us something about how you got all 'distressed', Kookie.”

Jungkook's breath catches in his throat, his body stiffening even more. His hands tremble slightly, and he feels his chest tighten, the humiliation he’d felt the night before coming crashing back over him, this time more intense than ever. His head spins with the realization that Jimin and Taehyung, his closest hyungs, know everything now. They know what happened last night. They know why I got so embarrassed.

But then Taehyung’s lips are on his neck again, soft, slow kisses that send a ripple of warmth through him despite his panic. His mouth moves slowly along the sensitive skin of Jungkook’s throat, the feeling of it making his head spin. “The hyungs might be stupid,” Taehyung murmurs low and slow, his voice thick with affection, “but you and I both know that me and Jimin aren’t. We can figure things out.”

Jungkook shudders under the pressure of Taehyung’s kiss, his skin feeling too hot, too sensitive, and yet... his words, gentle but teasing, make something flutter in his chest. They know, Jungkook realizes, they know what happened, and they’re not judging me for it.

Jimin’s hand continues to caress his belly, each slow stroke comforting, yet there’s an undeniable warmth in his touch. His voice is low, soft, but there’s a slight edge to it that makes Jungkook’s heart race in his chest. “From what the hyungs told us, Kook,” Jimin whispers, “I think we have an idea of why you’re so flustered.”

Jungkook’s breath catches again, his chest tightening in a strange mix of relief and anxiety. The idea of being seen so fully, of being so known by his hyungs in such an intimate way, is both terrifying and comforting. They aren’t judging him, they aren’t ridiculing him. They’re just... understanding him. But still, the weight of the knowledge, of the way they can read him so easily, makes him feel even more exposed.

Jimin’s fingers slide further down, gentle and slow, before they rest in the small of Jungkook’s belly, grounding him with their warmth. “You don’t need to be embarrassed,” Jimin murmurs softly, his voice a soothing balm for the chaos inside Jungkook’s mind. “You’re ours, and that means we’ll always understand you, even when you don’t say a word.”

Jungkook can’t speak, can’t form the words to respond. All he can do is tremble slightly under their touch, feeling overwhelmed by the love and understanding they offer. He can’t help the way his heart beats faster, the way his body responds to the pressure of their bodies surrounding him. Despite the embarrassment, despite the overwhelming feeling of being exposed, he feels more loved, more cared for than he ever has before.

Jungkook’s body stiffens, his heart racing in his chest as Taehyung and Jimin continue to tease him. The soft, persistent pressure of their kisses on his neck makes him shiver, his body overwhelmed by the sensation of their lips brushing his sensitive skin.

Every light touch only deepens his embarrassment, but despite the embarrassment, he feels a strange warmth spreading through him. They’re doing it on purpose, teasing him, and for some reason, it only makes him want to sink deeper into their embrace, despite the storm of embarrassment churning inside him.

Jimin’s voice is low, sweet, and teasing as he murmurs into Jungkook’s ear. “Come on, pup. What really happened last night?” His lips press softly against the curve of Jungkook’s jaw, just barely grazing his skin. “You’re so flustered now, it’s hard to believe what happened wasn’t something a little... interesting.”

Taehyung hums in agreement, his lips trailing slow, warm kisses down the side of Jungkook’s neck. “Yeah, Kookie,” he whispers, his voice full of teasing affection. “We’re dying to know. You look so flustered now. I wonder how you looked last night.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches, the overwhelming feeling of their closeness making it hard for him to think straight. He can’t form the words right away, his mouth too dry, his chest too tight. His face is burning with embarrassment, his heart pounding, but the more they tease, the more his body betrays him. There’s something in the way they’re looking at him, the way they’re touching him, that makes him feel wanted. Despite the overwhelming wave of shyness, he can’t help but feel like he’s at the center of something special.

The pressure on his throat from Taehyung’s lips is soothing, grounding him, but the sweet scent of Jimin’s proximity—his warmth—only makes Jungkook’s pulse quicken. He can feel the change in the air, the way the tension shifts when Taehyung and Jimin press in even closer. Their scents grow even sweeter, the mixture of soft raspberries and fresh cherries, sweet notes filling the air around him like a fragrant cocoon.

His body betrays him, and he knows it. They know it, too.

Jungkook finally speaks, his voice small, barely above a whisper, his words tangled in his stutter. “I... I—I was falling asleep, but... but then I heard... heard the hyungs come in the room...” He pauses, his chest tightening as he tries to find the words. His voice shakes, his hands gripping the fabric of Taehyung’s shirt to steady himself. “Yoongi-hyung and Namjoon-hyung were... shirtless.” The words come out faster than he wants them to, and he cringes internally, wishing he could take them back.

But he can’t. He can only feel the weight of their attention on him, how Jimin and Taehyung both shift slightly at the mention of the alphas. There’s a soft, knowing hum from Taehyung, and the scent of the two omegas grows even sweeter, richer, filling the space around Jungkook like a soft blanket. It feels like they’re savoring every word he’s saying.

“Oh, really?” Jimin's voice is soft, his tone playful but full of that knowing affection. “The hyungs always look so good without their shirts on, don’t they?” He chuckles lowly, his breath warm against Jungkook’s skin. “You’re not the only one who notices, Kookie.”

Jungkook’s face burns hotter, if that’s even possible. The embarrassment rises like a tide inside him, threatening to drown him as he bites his lip and shifts in their hold. But despite the overwhelming flush creeping up his neck and over his cheeks, he can’t stop the truth from spilling out. He has to explain, to say it, even if it makes him feel like he’s sinking into the earth.

“I... I got flustered...” Jungkook stammers, his voice so small now, barely audible. He swallows hard, as though the words themselves are too much for him to bear. “When I saw them... I—I thought they’d noticed, and... and they thought I was distressed...” His voice falters, a knot of panic rising in his throat as he recalls the moment Namjoon had taken charge, the alpha’s comforting touch grounding him in a way he’d never expected.

Jimin hums in understanding, his fingers running gently over Jungkook’s stomach in slow, comforting strokes. “That’s what happened, huh? Namjoon-hyung thought you were distressed, and then—” He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. He already knows, his voice warm and soothing in Jungkook’s ear.

Taehyung, too, seems to be enjoying this more than Jungkook would like to admit. He presses a slow, deliberate kiss just below Jungkook’s ear, his lips lingering as he whispers, "And that's when Joon-hyung pulled out his alpha side, huh? To calm you down. Classic."

Jungkook’s heart pounds at the reminder, his body going still as the memory surges back into his mind—how it had felt to be in Namjoon’s arms, the overwhelming sense of warmth and safety. He had been so lost in the moment, so flustered, that he hadn’t known how to react. But now, with the teasing whispers of Taehyung and Jimin, it all feels even more intimate than before.

“I...” Jungkook whispers, his voice trembling now, filled with a quiet shame. “I didn’t mean to... I didn’t want to make things awkward.” His breath catches again, and his fingers tighten around the fabric of Taehyung’s shirt. “I just... I couldn’t help it. It was just... too much.”

The omegas fall quiet for a moment, as though processing his words. Taehyung’s lips hover near his throat again, but he doesn’t kiss him again right away. Instead, he speaks softly, his voice full of warmth. “Jungkook-ah, you don’t need to worry about anything. We’re not going to judge you for getting flustered. You’re ours, and we love you.”

Jimin nods against his back, his hands still tender as they rest on his stomach. “Exactly. Don’t be embarrassed. You’re perfect just the way you are, Kookie. And if the hyungs are making you feel this way, then... maybe they need a little reminder on how to treat their pup properly.”

Jungkook feels his heart flutter at their words, his body relaxing just a little under their touch. They’re not upset, they’re not teasing him to hurt him—they’re just... there, surrounding him with their care, their warmth, their understanding. Despite the overwhelming embarrassment still coursing through him, Jungkook knows that, in this moment, he’s safe.

Taehyung’s face comes into view before Jungkook even realizes it, his features soft but striking, every detail of his face sharper and more breathtaking up close. The way his green eyes are so full of warmth, the curve of his lips, the little freckles scattered across his nose—it makes Jungkook’s breath catch. Without even thinking, his voice slips out, barely above a whisper. “You’re so pretty.”

The words leave Jungkook’s lips before he can stop them, and the sudden vulnerability in the air makes his heart flutter in his chest. The breath he hadn’t realized he was holding is exhaled shakily. He doesn’t even realize that his words might have had an effect until Taehyung chuckles, a low, gentle sound that makes Jungkook’s stomach flutter.

Taehyung’s smile is teasing, but there’s a softness to it, a kind of fondness that makes Jungkook’s pulse race. “You think I’m pretty?” Taehyung teases, his voice rich and honeyed. “Well, you’re pretty too, you know.”

The air between them feels charged, the moment hanging suspended in time. Jungkook opens his mouth to reply, but Taehyung doesn’t give him a chance. He leans in, his face inches from Jungkook’s, his lips so close that Jungkook can feel his breath—warm and sweet. The teasing smile slowly fades, replaced by something more intense. Taehyung’s eyes flicker to Jungkook’s lips, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

Jungkook gasps at the words, the heat rising in his cheeks as his heart beats louder in his ears. His mind spins, the words catching in his throat as the longing he hadn’t even fully realized fills him. They hadn’t kissed since the claiming, and now that he’s thinking about it—he wants them to kiss him again. He wants both of them, Jimin and Taehyung, to kiss him like they did before, but it’s just... so overwhelming, his mind so clouded with need and desire.

Without thinking about his shyness, without overanalyzing the situation or worrying about anything, Jungkook leans in closer to Taehyung, his voice barely more than a whisper as he pleads, “Please... kiss me, hyung. I... I want it.”

The air is thick with the heat of the moment, Taehyung’s eyes darkening with something wild and tender all at once. He curses softly under his breath, his gaze fixed on Jungkook with an intensity that makes Jungkook’s breath stutter in his chest. “God, you’re being so good, Kook...” Taehyung murmurs, and Jungkook’s heart races at the praise, his body quivering with anticipation.

Then, Taehyung closes the distance between them, pressing their lips together. The kiss is slow, deliberate, but it’s not shy. It’s intense. The pressure is gentle at first, but quickly deepens as Taehyung’s lips move against Jungkook’s, as though he’s been starving for this. Jungkook, despite not having much experience with kissing, mirrors the intensity, kissing Taehyung back just as fiercely. His fingers grip the fabric of Taehyung’s shirt, his chest tightening as the heat builds between them.

Taehyung’s hand slides to the back of Jungkook’s head, pulling him in deeper. Jungkook feels the pull, the way Taehyung’s fingers thread through his hair, urging him closer. Jungkook can’t help but melt into him, his body pressing into Taehyung’s, the kiss becoming a tangle of lips and breath, a storm of sensation.

Taehyung’s lips are firm but tender, his movements unhurried but demanding, like he’s savoring every second, every inch of Jungkook’s lips. And Jungkook—Jungkook kisses him with everything he has. Every bit of the longing he’s held back, every emotion that’s been building since the claiming—all of it pours into the kiss, and it feels like he’s finally giving in to something he’s been craving.

The warmth of Taehyung’s hands on his neck, the soft press of their bodies together, the sweet taste of his lips—all of it is overwhelming in the best way. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with every breath he takes, his pulse thundering in his veins. He can feel Taehyung’s heartbeat, fast and steady against his own. They both need this, need each other in ways they hadn’t fully understood before, and Jungkook feels that connection more than ever as their kiss deepens.

It’s not just a kiss. It’s everything. It’s the feeling of being wanted, of being claimed in a way he never expected, but he knows—he’s wanted this. He wants this. He wants them.

Jungkook hears Jimin’s soft voice just beside them, teasing but full of warmth, his words melting into the air like honey. “You both look so good together,” Jimin murmurs, his tone fond, like he’s savoring the sight of them tangled up in each other. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he gently caresses their heads, his fingers threading through their hair in the most soothing of ways. “So pretty,” Jimin continues, and there’s an undeniable possessiveness in his voice when he adds, “You’re both mine. My sweet babies.”

The words make Jungkook’s breath hitch in his throat, a rush of heat spreading through him. He can’t contain the gasp that escapes him, his body reacting to the possessiveness in Jimin’s voice. It’s not harsh or demanding, but there’s an undeniable intensity, a claim that makes Jungkook’s heart skip a beat.

Before he can process it all, Taehyung shifts, his lips still hovering near Jungkook’s, and with a hunger that leaves Jungkook breathless, he dives back in, exploring Jungkook’s mouth with urgent need. The kiss deepens instantly, and Jungkook’s soft whimper reverberates in his chest, the sensation of Taehyung’s lips, his warmth, everything about him overwhelming Jungkook in the best way.

Jungkook moans softly into the kiss, his fingers tightening on the fabric of Taehyung’s shirt, his body trembling at the way he takes control. Taehyung doesn’t give him time to think, doesn’t give him time to breathe. He pulls Jungkook deeper into the kiss, sucking at his bottom lip, and Jungkook feels it all—every soft tug, every deep breath, every teasing press of Taehyung’s tongue against his own. It’s dizzying, and Jungkook can’t help but melt, his body surrendering to the kiss.

But as quickly as it started, Taehyung pulls away, leaving Jungkook gasping for air. His lips are swollen, his face flushed, eyes hazy, and Jungkook can feel the weight of his gaze lingering on him, like Taehyung is fighting to regain some control. Jungkook’s heart is still racing in his chest, his head spinning from the kiss, but he doesn’t have time to collect himself before Jimin moves.

Without hesitation, he pulls him onto his back, his hands surprisingly firm but gentle as they guide him. Jungkook barely has time to adjust before Jimin is leaning down, his lips pressing against his own with a fiery intensity that immediately sets Jungkook’s heart alight.

This kiss feels different, more commanding. Where Taehyung had been tender, careful in his exploration, Jimin takes what he wants. His lips move with purpose, with a kind of dominance that makes Jungkook’s breath catch in his throat. Jimin bites his bottom lip, just enough to make him gasp, and the moment his mouth opens, Jimin claims it. The kiss is deep, forceful, his tongue sweeping into Jungkook’s mouth, exploring with an assertiveness that sends shivers down Jungkook’s spine.

Jungkook’s heart races as he feels the shift, the change in dynamic. Jimin isn’t just kissing him—he’s taking him, making the moment his. The kiss is possessive, marking, and Jungkook can’t help but feel like he belongs in it, belongs in Jimin’s arms, under the weight of his gaze. His hands are on Jimin’s chest, then around his neck, clinging to him as the kiss deepens, and Jimin’s dominance over him grows with each breath.

Jungkook feels a tingle in the pit of his stomach, a spark of desire that’s ignited with every second of the kiss. It’s different from the one with Taehyung—this one is commanding, as if Jimin’s trying to remind him that he’s not just another part of the puzzle, but someone important, someone to be claimed, to be wanted. And Jungkook can’t help but want it, want them, in a way he never thought possible.

Jimin pulls away from Jungkook with a slow, lingering kiss, his lips still a breath away when he shifts, his attention now on Taehyung. There’s a shift in the air, an undeniable power radiating from Jimin as he dives back in, lips capturing Taehyung’s with the same intensity, the same possessiveness that left Jungkook breathless. It’s a kiss unlike any other—one that speaks of ownership, of desire, of something deeper, something unspoken between them all.

Taehyung’s arms move to rest above his head, his body completely surrendering to Jimin’s dominance. He doesn’t fight it, doesn’t hesitate to let Jimin take, just as Jungkook had done. His eyes flutter closed, a low hum of approval escaping his lips as Jimin claims him too.

And Jungkook watches in awe at how natural it feels, how right they look together. The way Jimin presses into Taehyung, how Taehyung just melts into the kiss, it’s something Jungkook can’t quite describe. They fit together so perfectly, like two halves of the same whole.

His heart beats a little faster as he watches them, feeling a strange mix of possessiveness and awe, realizing that this is something shared between all three of them. They don’t hide it, don’t shy away from it. It’s out in the open—raw, passionate, and undeniably real.

When they finally break the kiss, both Jimin and Taehyung are panting, their chests rising and falling in sync as they come back to themselves. Then, Taehyung laughs, a deep, satisfied sound that fills the space between them. “I wouldn’t mind waking up like this every day,” he says, his voice husky and playful.

Jungkook chuckles at that, his own laughter light and warm, though his cheeks are still flushed, his heart still racing. The scene feels surreal, but it’s comforting—so comforting. The soft, teasing atmosphere settles around them like a familiar blanket, something safe, something shared.

But Jimin, grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he pushes himself up from where he’s leaning over them. “Alright, alright,” he says, his voice tinged with a hint of humor. “We better hurry up and go eat breakfast before nothing’s left.”

His eyes flick to Taehyung, then to Jungkook, and there’s something playful in the way he says it, like he’s already planning how to keep them all wrapped up in this bubble for a little while longer.

Jungkook, still a bit dazed from everything, can’t help but smile at how effortlessly they flow together, how easy it is to be surrounded by them.

Their teasing, their affection—

It all feels like a promise, a shared understanding.

He’s still processing everything, but in this moment, surrounded by them, he knows one thing for sure—

He’s where he belongs.

Notes:

Hello!! 💖

I swear, I keep squealing and kicking my feet while editing this. A lot of these chapters were written a while ago, so sometimes I'm surprised by what I've written myself, haha! 😅
Also, did you catch that moment when Jungkook called Namjoon HIS alpha in his head? 😭💘 My heart can’t handle it.

And the pet names? 💕 When the hyungs call him "pup," my heart just melts, but "baby"? 💓 I think I might actually like that even more! Don’t even get me started on Namjoon calling him a "good boy"—I’m weak for that trope, so I had to include it, haha! 😳

Also, Vmin being all clever and figuring Jungkook out so quickly, while the hyungs were still clueless about what happened the night before? 😂 Not the sharpest tools in the shed, huh? 😜

 

I’m staring at my fridge writing this (because, duh, snack time) and realizing I have WAY too many magnets on it. Am I secretly addicted to fridge magnets?? 😅 I went on a trip to Colombia last year with my best friend to visit her family (because she's Colombian—not me tagging along on her "family trip," haha) and, of course, I HAD to get a magnet from every city we visited. I’m just a magnet hoarder at this point 😂 but hey, it’s harmless, right?

 

Okay, I swear I’ll stop rambling now! Every day I tell myself, "Next note, I’ll talk less," but here we are again. 😜

Anyway, have a great weekend, and see you soon! 💖

Chapter 42: Through the Market's Eyes

Summary:

Jungkook gets to spend some time with Namjoon and Yoongi

After spending a few more minutes in the nest, they decide to make their way to the living room and the moment they step inside, they're immediately met with knowing smiles. Seokjin, who always has a knack for sensing things and never hesitates to tease anyone, grins from his spot near the kitchen counter. “You three smell too sweet,” he says, his voice laced with mock exasperation. “I’ve been slaving away in the kitchen, and this is what I come to? You’ve been up to mischief while in the nest, haven’t you?”

Jimin and Taehyung just laugh it off, their grins wide and unapologetic, clearly not bothered by Seokjin’s teasing. They shrug in unison, completely unashamed. “Maybe,” Jimin says playfully, nudging Taehyung. “But I think you’re just jealous because you wants to kiss Jungkookie too hyungie.”

Jungkook’s face turns a deep shade of red at the suggestion, his eyes flicking nervously to Seokjin as if trying to gauge how he might respond. His heart races a little, his thoughts still a bit foggy from the morning’s events. He desperately tries to act casual, though it’s clear by the way his face burns that he’s anything but.

Seokjin chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, I’m not denying that,” he says casually, giving Jungkook a teasing once-over that makes his face flush even deeper. Jungkook squirms, wanting to retreat back into the safety of the nest, but he holds his ground, unable to look away from Seokjin’s knowing smile.

Seemingly satisfied with Jungkook’s flustered state, Seokjin turns away with a smirk, making his way over to where Jimin and Taehyung are standing next to him, his presence immediately drawing their attention. “And what about my precious omegas, hum?” he murmurs, his voice softer now, filled with warmth.

Jimin giggles, tilting his head up expectantly, while Taehyung hums in approval, already leaning in. Seokjin presses a lingering kiss to Jimin’s forehead, then another to Taehyung’s temple, his hands briefly brushing over their cheeks in a fond caress. “You two are far too cute for your own good,” he sighs dramatically, though the adoration in his gaze betrays his teasing tone.

Jimin beams, nuzzling into him, while Taehyung chuckles, tugging at Seokjin’s sleeve. “You’re just jealous, hyung,” he teases, earning an affectionate scoff from the elder.

Jungkook watches from his spot, still burning from Seokjin’s previous teasing, but now something warm settles in his chest at the easy affection between them all.

The teasing atmosphere fills the room, but before they can continue, everyone settles down, taking their seats. Jungkook’s chest still feels tight, but being surrounded by his hyungs, the comfortable banter and familiar scents, helps calm him. 

Yoongi and Namjoon don’t say anything about the night before. They don’t have to. Their glances are subtle—fleeting, careful—but Jungkook can feel them. He senses the quiet way their eyes follow him, the way Yoongi’s fingers twitch slightly as though resisting the urge to reach out, the way Namjoon’s expression softens whenever their gazes meet. It makes Jungkook’s stomach flutter with uncertainty, warmth mingling with the remnants of last night’s emotions.

They don’t ask, don’t push—but the concern lingers, quiet and steady, like an unspoken promise. Jungkook knows they’re waiting for him to come to them, to open up when he’s ready. The weight of their care is a strange thing, not heavy, but present—like the warmth of a thick blanket draped over his shoulders. It settles into his chest, unfamiliar yet not unwelcome.

Namjoon clears his throat, shifting the mood with practiced ease. His voice is steady, calm, the kind of tone that grounds rather than pressures. “I’m planning to go back to the trading markets today with Yoongi-hyung,” he says, his tone practical, “to pick up some things for training the hunters. Would you like to come with us, Jungkook-ah?”

The question is simple enough, but there’s something careful in the way Namjoon asks it—gentle, like he’s giving Jungkook an out if he’s not ready. There’s no expectation, no demand, just an open door. It’s an offer of something more than just a trip to the market. An invitation to step beyond the safety of the house, to push past the lingering hesitations and integrate further into pack life.

Jungkook hesitates, fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeve. The market isn’t unfamiliar anymore but this time feels different. He’s not just tagging along as an observer. He’s being invited as one of them, as someone who belongs. And that… that is still something he’s learning how to accept.

He glances at Yoongi first, finding the alpha’s eyes already watching him, quiet and unreadable. Then at Namjoon, who meets his gaze with steady patience, his posture open, waiting but not pressing.

Jungkook swallows and nods, willing himself to speak past the nerves, past the lingering self-consciousness from the teasing and the weight of last night. “Yes, hyung,” he says quietly, steadying himself. “I’d like that.”

Namjoon’s lips curve into a smile—not big, not overwhelming, just a small, reassuring thing that makes Jungkook’s chest feel a little lighter. Yoongi’s gaze lingers a second longer before he nods as well, satisfied.

The words feel like a step forward, like proof that he’s not just existing within the pack, but becoming a part of it. He doesn’t know what the day will bring, doesn’t know if the market will feel overwhelming this time or if he’ll regret saying yes—but in this moment, with the alphas looking at him like that, like he’s someone they want by their side, Jungkook feels something new stir inside him.

Something close to belonging.

As they finish breakfast and step outside, the crisp morning air greets them. The scent of damp earth lingers, a reminder of last night’s snowfall melting under the soft warmth of the sun. Jungkook follows Namjoon and Yoongi as they make their way toward the trading markets, the now familiar path lined with towering trees. The forest feels quieter than usual, or maybe it’s just the heavy silence between them that makes it seem that way.

Jungkook notices the way both alphas keep sneaking glances at him, their gazes flickering toward him with an odd kind of hesitance. Neither of them speaks, though he can tell they want to. They look unsure, as if they don’t know what to say or how to bring up what’s clearly weighing on their minds. Their steps are steady, but their expressions betray their uncertainty.

Jungkook takes a slow breath. He doesn’t like this awkwardness, doesn’t like the way they seem so uncertain around him. If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s him. He’s the one who made a fool of himself last night, reacting the way he did over something so stupid. If they knew the real reason why he’d panicked, he thinks he might actually die on the spot.

This is his fault. So, he figures the least he can do is apologize.

He clears his throat softly, his fingers fidgeting with the sleeves of his coat. “Um,” he starts, voice quiet but enough to catch their attention. Both Namjoon and Yoongi immediately look at him, eyes sharpening with concern. He hesitates for a moment, then forces himself to continue. “I just… I wanted to say sorry. For last night.”

Yoongi and Namjoon both blink at him, exchanging a glance before turning back to him, confused.

“Sorry?” Namjoon asks, his brows furrowing.

Jungkook nods, dropping his gaze to the ground as they continue walking. “Yes… I— I was being weird, and I made things awkward. I— I didn’t mean to ruin anything, I just—” He swallows, unable to bring himself to say it. That he’d been flustered. Over their bare chests. That he’d been so affected by it that he ended up embarrassing himself completely.

There’s another brief silence, but then—

“Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi says, his voice oddly firm, yet gentle at the same time. “You don’t have to apologize.”

Jungkook glances up at them again, confused this time.

Namjoon sighs, running a hand through his hair as he looks down at Jungkook, guilt clear on his face. “If anything, we should be the ones apologizing,” he says, and Jungkook blinks in surprise. “We should have made sure you were comfortable enough to sleep in the nest first instead of pushing you into it so suddenly.”

Yoongi nods, his jaw tight. “You were upset, and we didn’t even realize it until it was too late. We should’ve been more careful with you.”

Jungkook stares at them, mouth parting slightly in shock. Oh. Oh.

They think… he was upset. With them.

They have no idea. They don’t know.

They still don’t know.

Jungkook feels his entire face heat up in record time. His stomach churns with a mix of embarrassment and relief, though the embarrassment is definitely winning. Of course they don’t know. Why would they ever assume that their bare chests were the reason he’d reacted the way he did? Why would that ever cross their minds?

God, they really think they did something wrong. They think he was uncomfortable because of them, when in reality, he was just… a mess.

Jungkook opens his mouth, ready to say something—maybe to correct them, maybe to make this less awkward—but then closes it again. What is he even supposed to say? ‘Oh, no, I wasn’t upset, I was just completely overwhelmed because you two are ridiculously attractive and I couldn’t handle it?’ No. Not happening.

So instead, he just nods stiffly, forcing himself to look away before they can see the sheer panic in his eyes. “R-Right,” he stammers. “Um… it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

Neither Namjoon nor Yoongi seem completely convinced, but they let out quiet sighs, relief washing over their expressions.

Jungkook, on the other hand, thinks he might just combust before they even reach the trading markets.

He knows he has to tell them the truth eventually. The thought of it makes his stomach churn. How in the world is he supposed to look Namjoon and Yoongi in the eyes and admit that he wasn’t upset last night but flustered—so flustered he completely embarrassed himself?

It’ll be the most humiliating moment of his life.

So, for now, he decides to say nothing. Instead, he focuses on changing the subject.

“What are we buying?” he asks, glancing up at Namjoon.

The alpha seems surprised by the sudden question, but he quickly adjusts, his expression softening. “A few weapons for training the hunters,” Namjoon explains, his voice calm and steady. “Some of the ones we have are too damaged to keep using. I know someone from another pack who sells good quality weapons at the markets, so I figured we’d go see what they have.”

Jungkook hums in understanding. Namjoon trains the hunters. He’s the pack alpha, but he also knows a lot about tracking, hunting, and fighting. Jungkook has never really thought about learning those things before, but… he wants to be more useful. He doesn’t want to just be someone the pack needs to protect all the time.

Maybe Namjoon could train him.

The thought lingers in his mind for a moment before he speaks. “Could you… train me hyung?”

Namjoon blinks at him, momentarily taken aback. Jungkook hesitates, suddenly nervous, but he pushes forward. “I just— I think it would be good for me to learn,” he says, his voice quieter but still determined. “I don’t want to just rely on everyone all the time. I want to be able to protect myself too.”

Namjoon watches him for a long moment, and then—he smiles. A warm, proud smile.

“I’d be happy to train you,” he says, his voice filled with genuine approval. “If that’s something you really want, then I’ll teach you everything I know.”

Jungkook feels his heart skip a beat. He hadn’t expected Namjoon to agree so quickly, but the alpha’s encouragement makes something settle in his chest. A warm sense of belonging.

“Really?” he asks, just to be sure.

Namjoon chuckles, reaching out to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. “Really,” he confirms. “We’ll start whenever you’re ready.”

Jungkook grins, excitement bubbling up in him. He can’t help but glance at Yoongi, who has been listening quietly. The older alpha meets his gaze and smirks slightly.

“If Joon’s training you, I might as well help too,” Yoongi says, voice smooth and amused. “You’ll need to learn more than just strength. Speed and strategy are just as important.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly. Both of them? Namjoon and Yoongi are both going to train him?

He swallows, suddenly feeling the weight of what he’s just asked for.

This… is going to be interesting.

Yoongi tilts his head, watching Jungkook carefully. “Is there a specific reason you want to learn?” he asks, his voice deceptively light. But there’s something deeper beneath it—something cautious, like he’s bracing himself for the answer.

Jungkook hesitates for only a second before he exhales softly. He can’t lie. Not to them.

“When I was in my old village, I felt helpless,” he admits, voice quiet but firm. “Especially when I was stuck with Sungil. I didn’t know how to defend myself. He was taller and stronger, and I—” He swallows, throat tight. “I was too weak. I couldn’t do anything to protect myself from him.”

The moment the name leaves his mouth, both alphas tense. Their scents sharpen, losing some of their usual warmth, turning edged and taut with restrained anger. Jungkook doesn’t dare look at their expressions, afraid of what he might see—afraid that seeing their fury will remind him of Sungil’s own towering rage.

But he pushes forward.

“I was starving when I ran away,” he continues. “Because I didn’t know how to hunt. I didn’t know how to take care of myself. If I hadn’t been found, I—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. He doesn’t want to think about what might have happened. He just knows he never wants to feel that weak again. “I want to be stronger,” he says, finally lifting his gaze. “I don’t want to be helpless anymore.”

Namjoon and Yoongi stop walking.

Jungkook blinks, startled by the sudden halt. He turns to look at them, and the intensity in their gazes makes his breath catch.

Yoongi looks furious. Not at him but at the past, at what he has endured, at everything he’s just said. His dark eyes are filled with quiet, smoldering rage, his jaw clenched tightly. Namjoon isn’t much better. His expression is carefully controlled, but his hands are curled into fists, his body tense with restrained emotion.

Then, at the same time, they both step closer.

“You’ll never be helpless again,” Namjoon says, his voice steady, but there’s an unshakable certainty beneath it, a vow. “We’ll make sure of it.”

Yoongi nods. “We’ll teach you everything there is to know,” he promises, his voice low but unwavering. “How to fight, how to hunt—whatever you need.”

Jungkook swallows, something warm settling in his chest. He hadn’t expected such a strong reaction, but he should have known. Namjoon and Yoongi have always been protective over their mates, maybe over him too.

But then Namjoon’s eyes soften just slightly. “That being said,” he adds, “we’ll teach you how to defend yourself—but if you ever feel like you’re in danger, you call for us, no questions asked. You don’t have to do anything alone.”

Yoongi nods in agreement. “You have us now, Jungkook-ah,” he says, voice quiet but firm. “You don’t have to fight on your own. We’ll fight for you.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say to that.

Because no one has ever said those words to him before.

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until Namjoon steps even closer, his presence overwhelming. Yoongi mirrors the movement from the other side, crowding him in, surrounding him with their warmth, their scent. It’s protective—commanding.

“There are some situations where you might not be able to defend yourself even if you try your best,” Namjoon says, his voice low, but there’s a weight to it, something firm and immovable. “Alphas are physically stronger than betas, omegas…” He hesitates, then his gaze darkens. “And humans. We don’t want to think about anything happening to you again, but it’s always a possibility. You just never know.”

Yoongi leans in just slightly, his eyes sharp and unrelenting. “So if you ever feel even slightly in danger,” he murmurs, voice like a quiet storm, “you call for us immediately.”

Jungkook swallows.

“We’ll always come for you,” Namjoon vows, his grip tightening ever so slightly around Jungkook’s wrist, grounding. “No matter what.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. The air between them is thick—charged. He can feel it pressing against his skin, seeping into his bones. His throat feels dry, but he manages to nod, his voice barely above a whisper. “I—I understand.”

That’s not enough.

Both alphas move at once, their hands finding his. Namjoon’s palm is broad and warm, fingers firm as they lace between his own, holding him steady. Yoongi’s touch is just as strong, just as unyielding. Jungkook feels trapped between them, their heat pressing in, suffocating—but not in a way that makes him want to pull away. It’s intoxicating, making his heart pound.

“Say it pup,” Namjoon demands.

Jungkook blinks up at him. “W-What?”

Yoongi’s grip tightens. “Say you’ll be good and call for us to protect you,” he orders, his voice deceptively calm, but there’s something heavy beneath it. Something that makes Jungkook’s stomach flip.

His breath stutters. His face feels impossibly hot, embarrassment prickling under his skin. The way they’re looking at him—so expectant, so sure that he’ll listen—it makes something coil tight inside of him.

“I-I’ll be good,” Jungkook finally stammers, his voice weak, barely audible. “I-I’ll call for you.”

Namjoon’s lips curl, satisfied.

Yoongi smirks. “Good boy.”

Jungkook nearly chokes. His entire body seizes, heat rushing up his neck. His fingers twitch in their hold, his lungs forgetting how to work for a brief, dizzying moment.

Namjoon chuckles, low and approving. “That’s right,” he murmurs, squeezing his hand. “Don’t forget what you just promised pup.”

Yoongi lets go last, his fingers dragging along Jungkook’s wrist before finally releasing him. His eyes gleam as he steps back, his smirk still in place.

Jungkook has never felt so flustered in his life. Or maybe he has. No, he definitely has. He always seems to be a flustered mess around his hyungs. 

They walk for about half an hour, the conversation flowing easily between them. Jungkook listens, enraptured by the stories the alphas share—small moments of joy and nostalgia woven into their past.

Namjoon chuckles as he recalls how Hoseok had been absolutely enchanted the other day when a butterfly landed right on his nose, the beta going cross-eyed trying to look at it before bursting into delighted laughter. Jungkook can picture it perfectly, Hoseok’s warm, sunny energy making even the simplest things feel magical.

Yoongi smirks, recounting how Taehyung had once fallen straight into the lake one summer while trying to catch a fish with his bare hands. "He was so sure he could do it," Yoongi says, shaking his head fondly. "One second, he was creeping up all slow, trying to be a hunter, and the next—splash. Gone."

Jungkook bursts into laughter, imagining Taehyung floundering in the water, his pretty hair dripping wet as he pouted up at them.

"At least he actually caught the fish," Namjoon muses.

"Yeah, because it was so shocked it practically jumped into his arms," Yoongi deadpans.

They continue trading stories, and Jungkook’s heart feels so full. Yoongi grins, sharing how Jimin once found a tiny baby fox abandoned near the pack house. How he had cared for it for weeks, sneaking it food and bundling it up in soft cloth until it was strong enough to return to the wild. "He wanted to keep him so bad," Yoongi sighs. "But he realized the fox was meant to be free."

Then Namjoon, after a bit of prodding from Yoongi, talks about how Seokjin once gave him a bracelet when they were teenagers—and how he’s never taken it off since.

That makes Jungkook's smile brighten, warmth spreading through his chest. He remembers Seokjin telling him about Namjoon from when they were kids, how deeply their bond had always run. But hearing it from Namjoon himself feels different. More personal. More meaningful.

Curious, Jungkook looks up at the alpha, eyes shining. "Hyung, is that true?"

Namjoon stiffens slightly, his hand twitching at his side. Jungkook watches, fascinated, as the pack alpha—his strong, steady, always-composed Namjoon-hyung—begins to blush.

Before Namjoon can even formulate a response, Yoongi smirks and says casually, "Oh yeah. Seokjin-hyung is Namjoon's first love."

Jungkook gasps, his eyes going wide as he turns fully to Namjoon, practically vibrating with excitement. "Hyung,  I want to know about the bracelet Seokjin-hyung gave you, please."

Namjoon groans, rubbing the back of his neck as he shoots Yoongi a betrayed look. "You're insufferable."

Yoongi just shrugs, utterly unrepentant. "I'm honest."

Jungkook grins, looking between them. "So it’s true?"

Namjoon sighs, clearly realizing there’s no escaping this. He looks down at the bracelet snug on his wrist, running his fingers over it. The bracelet is crafted from delicate black and deep burgundy beads—colors that, Jungkook realizes, match the fur of their wolves.

His voice is quieter when he finally speaks. "Jin-hyung was my childhood friend, we were neighbors" he admits. "When I became alpha, I was young. I had so much to learn, and I was scared—scared of failing, scared of not being strong enough. But Jin… he was always there. Supporting me, believing in me."

Jungkook listens intently, heart clenching at the quiet vulnerability in Namjoon’s voice. Namjoon’s fingers tighten around the bracelet. “He gave me this because he said I needed something to remind me that I wasn’t alone. That I never would be.”

There’s a beat of silence before Yoongi mutters, "Sappy."

Namjoon huffs. "Shut up."

Jungkook, still beaming, tugs on Namjoon's sleeve. "Hyung, that's really sweet."

Namjoon just shakes his head, but his eyes are warm as he nudges Jungkook’s shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. Don’t tell him I said all that, though. His ego’s already too big."

Jungkook giggles. "Too late."

Jungkook’s eyes shine with curiosity as he turns to Namjoon, excitement bubbling in his chest. "Hyung, Seokjin-hyung told me that he never even realized you were interested in him until you cornered him and kissed him." He tilts his head, grinning. "I want to know more."

Namjoon groans, rubbing a hand over his face as his ears turn a deep shade of red. Yoongi chuckles beside him, clearly enjoying his friend’s predicament.

"That’s what he told you?" Namjoon mutters, shaking his head. "Of course, he did."

Jungkook nods eagerly, bouncing on his feet. "So? Is it true?"

Namjoon sighs, clearly debating whether to indulge Jungkook’s curiosity or protect what little dignity he has left. But when Jungkook meets his gaze with wide, eager eyes, he watches as the other exhales in defeat.

 

"Fine," he grumbles. "But don’t make a big deal out of it, it’s embarrassing enough as it is."

Jungkook grins, leaning in closer. "No promises."

Namjoon rolls his eyes before running a hand through his hair. "Jin-hyung and I grew up together. We were neighbors like I said, and our parents were close. I spent more time at his house than my own sometimes." His voice softens slightly as he continues, eyes flickering with something warm and distant. "He was always beautiful."

Jungkook blinks at the quiet confession, something about the way Namjoon says it making his stomach flip.

"Even when we were just pups," Namjoon continues, his lips quirking slightly. "That was always my first thought when I looked at him. That he was so beautiful. And—" he hesitates, as if reluctant to admit it out loud, but then sighs and pushes forward, "—that he belonged to me."

Yoongi makes a noise at that, something between a scoff and a laugh. "Possessive even as a pup, huh?"

Namjoon shrugs, not denying it. "I just knew."

Jungkook feels his heart stutter in his chest at the quiet certainty in Namjoon’s voice. "Then why didn’t he realize you liked him?" he asks, fascinated.

Namjoon groans again. "Because he’s Jin."

Yoongi snorts. "Fair."

Namjoon crosses his arms, shaking his head as if he still can’t believe it. "He always thought of me as his little shadow, his best friend. No matter how much I lingered close, no matter how I looked at him, he never once considered the idea that I might want more." He exhales sharply, clearly remembering the frustration of it. "So, eventually, I had to make him see it."

Jungkook’s breath catches. "By cornering him and kissing him?"

Namjoon’s lips twitch. "Something like that."

Jungkook leans in even more. "Tell me hyung."

Namjoon sighs, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes now. "It was during the moon festival one year. He was getting many courting offers, and I’d had enough. So I pulled him aside, pushed him against a tree, and kissed him before he could say anything stupid."

Jungkook gasps, eyes wide. "Hyung!"

Yoongi cackles. "That’s the most alpha thing you’ve ever done."

Namjoon shrugs. "It worked, didn’t it?"

Jungkook shakes his head, equal parts scandalized and delighted. "And what did Seokjin-hyung do?"

Namjoon smirks, the memory clearly still vivid. "He punched me in the stomach."

Jungkook bursts into laughter, and Yoongi doubles over beside him.

"But," Namjoon adds, his voice turning smug, "then he grabbed me by the collar and kissed me back."

Jungkook’s laughter turns into a bright, giddy grin. "That’s so—!" He cuts himself off, flustered, before blurting out, "Romantic."

Namjoon chuckles, reaching out to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. "Glad you think so, pup."

Jungkook huffs, cheeks burning, but his heart feels warm. Hearing this story, seeing this side of Namjoon—it makes him feel even closer to them.

And maybe, just maybe, it makes him wonder what it would be like to have someone look at him like that, too. To have Namjoon look at him that way.

The thought lingers in his mind, warm and unshakable, even as he tries to push it away. But there’s little time to dwell on it—soon, the familiar sounds of the trading markets pull him back to the present.

Much like the day before, the markets are full of life—stalls overflowing with goods, traders calling out their wares, and the scent of roasted meat and fresh bread hanging in the air. People bustle past, their voices blending into a hum of excitement.

Namjoon glances at Jungkook and gestures subtly. “Stay between us, Jungkook-ah.”

Yoongi nods in agreement, his voice firm but calm. “Stay close.”

Jungkook blinks up at them. "Why?"

They answer without hesitation. "We feel safer that way," Namjoon says simply.

Yoongi nods, his gaze steady. "If you're between us, we don’t have to worry."

Jungkook doesn’t argue. The quiet protection feels good. Being surrounded by them, knowing they’re keeping watch, makes him feel safe. He walks between them, the steady presence of the alphas grounding him as they move through the crowded aisles.

They take a different path today, not the one he visited with Seokjin, turning down an aisle filled with weapons and hunting tools rather than food. Soon, they reach a large stand stacked with bows, arrows, daggers, and other training equipment.

A tall, broad man stands behind the stall, his build similar to Namjoon's, and they look to be around the same age. The moment he spots them, his face lights up with a grin.

"Namjoon, you big tree, it’s been too long!"

Before Namjoon can respond, the man lunges forward and pulls him into a bear-like hug, lifting him slightly off the ground. Namjoon groans but doesn’t fight it. "Yah—Jisoo! Put me down, you overgrown bear!" Despite the complaint, Namjoon returns the embrace, slapping the man’s back in friendly affection.

Yoongi snorts from beside Jungkook. "I forgot how dramatic you are, Jisoo."

Jisoo finally releases Namjoon, chuckling as he turns to Yoongi. "Ah, Yoongi! Still as grumpy as ever, I see."

Yoongi rolls his eyes but shakes the man’s offered hand. "And you're still as annoying."

Jisoo only grins wider before his eyes land on Jungkook. He studies him for a moment, his gaze sharp and assessing, making Jungkook shift slightly under the scrutiny.

"And who’s this?" Jisoo asks, intrigued.

Before Jungkook can introduce himself, Namjoon places a firm hand on his back, guiding him slightly forward. His voice is steady but protective. "This is Jungkook-ah. He’s with us now."

Jisoo’s eyes linger on Jungkook a little longer, his expression thoughtful. Then, he nods in understanding.

"Ah, I see," he says, the teasing edge gone from his tone. His smile softens. "Nice to meet you, Jungkook."

Jungkook bows his head slightly. "Nice to meet you too, Jisoo-ssi."

Jisoo chuckles warmly. "No need to be so formal. Any friend of Namjoon’s is a friend of mine."

Jungkook smiles shyly but doesn’t know what else to say. The warmth in Jisoo’s voice makes it easier to relax.

"Anyway," Namjoon interrupts, eager to move things along. "We’re here for weapons. Some of the hunter’s training tools need replacing."

Jisoo’s eyes light up. "Ah, you came to the right place! I just got some new stock—good quality, perfect for training." He gestures for them to follow him deeper into the stall.

As they walk, Namjoon subtly nudges Jungkook forward, keeping him securely between himself and Yoongi. Jungkook doesn’t mind, the alphas’ presence is reassuring. They’re looking out for him, making sure he’s always within reach.

Jungkook isn’t used to this—to being looked after so openly, so effortlessly. But as he walks between them, something warm blooms in his chest.

They follow Jisoo to the back of his stall, where rows of polished weapons gleam under the sunlight. Jungkook is momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer number of options. Swords, daggers, bows, arrows, and all sorts of hunting tools are displayed meticulously. He doesn’t even know where to begin. His eyes flick from one weapon to the next, unsure of what might suit him.

Jisoo starts explaining the weapons to Namjoon, detailing each one’s make and purpose, while Yoongi occasionally adds his input. Their conversation flows naturally, the two of them nodding thoughtfully as Jisoo points out a particular sword or a specialized throwing knife. Jungkook listens quietly, trying to take it all in.

Namjoon turns to Jisoo with a thoughtful expression. “We’d also like to find a smaller weapon for Jungkook-ah,” he says evenly.

Yoongi nods beside him, his tone firm. “Something light but effective—something he can handle if he ever needs to.”

"Nothing too big or heavy," Namjoon says, voice firm but kind.

Jungkook blinks at them, caught off guard. "For me?" he asks softly, still not used to the idea that they’re so invested in him learning how to defend himself.

"Yes," Yoongi confirms, looking over at him with a reassuring smile. "We’re starting your training soon. You’ll need something that’s easier to handle."

Jisoo, who’s been grinning at the alphas’ conversation, turns his gaze to Jungkook. The teasing glint in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed. He beckons Jungkook closer with a sly smile. "Come here, pretty boy," he says, his tone playful.

Jungkook hesitates for a moment, but then steps forward, his curiosity piqued. As he approaches, Jisoo runs his eyes over him in that teasing, assessing way that makes Jungkook feel both flustered and somehow… special.

"I have plenty of pretty weapons," Jisoo continues, his smile widening. "Perfect for a pretty boy like you."

Jungkook feels his face flush at the compliment, a little heat rising to his cheeks. He’s not sure how to respond, his usual shy nature making it difficult to even meet Jisoo’s gaze. The man’s teasing tone, however, makes it clear he’s not being serious, yet there’s something about the way he says it that makes Jungkook’s heart flutter, almost as if he’s being wrapped up in something gentle and comforting.

Jungkook catches the way Namjoon and Yoongi exchange a glance, their usually sharp, protective eyes softening at his flustered reaction. His face burns, but before he can say anything, Namjoon gives him a reassuring nod.

“Don’t mind Jisoo,” he says, his voice calm and steady. “He’s always like this.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "It’s his charm. Annoying, but effective."

Jungkook can’t help but laugh softly at their banter. "I guess I’ll take a pretty weapon, then."

Jisoo beams at that, clearly pleased by Jungkook’s response. "Good choice. You’ll look good wielding it. Let’s see what fits you."

As Jisoo starts pulling down a few smaller weapons to show him, Jungkook feels a wave of gratitude. This is all new to him, this sense of being cared for, of having alphas who are looking out for him in a way he’s never experienced before. It’s not just about the weapons or the training, it’s about them believing in him, about them making sure he’s ready to protect himself, no matter what.

And as he watches Namjoon and Yoongi discussing the right fit for him with Jisoo, Jungkook can’t help but feel that he’s starting to belong.

They settle on a dagger, and Jungkook can’t help but stare at it in awe. The handle is a stunning shade of rose gold, catching the light in a way that makes it almost shimmer. The blade is a delicate, light silver that contrasts beautifully with the handle. It’s elegant and sharp-looking.

As his fingers graze over the smooth, gemstone-studded handle, Jungkook’s eyes widen, captivated by its beauty. “It’s so pretty…” he murmurs without thinking.

Jisoo’s laughter rings out immediately. “Of course, you’d pick the prettiest one,” he teases, his eyes sparkling. “A cute boy like you should have the cutest weapon.”

Jungkook’s face flushes at the compliment, and he glances up at Namjoon and Yoongi, only to notice their expressions. They both seem slightly annoyed, their brows furrowed just a little, but they don’t say anything.

Jisoo notices the change in their demeanor and his smirk only widens, clearly enjoying the playful tension he’s stirred up. “Alright, alright,” he says with a chuckle, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll stop. Just can’t resist seeing the looks on your faces.”

Namjoon and Yoongi both exchange a look, but they don’t protest, silently allowing Jisoo to have his fun.

Jisoo, however, isn’t done teasing. “You should see the faces of Jimin and Taehyung when I do this,” he adds, his grin wide and mischievous. “I like to get their alphas all riled up. It’s so much fun.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen even further, not quite sure how to process that. The image of Jisoo teasing Jimin and Taehyung like this makes him both laugh and feel a little nervous at the same time.

“But,” Jisoo continues, leaning closer to Jungkook, his voice softening. “You’re still the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, that wasn’t a lie.”

Jungkook feels his heart flutter at the compliment, unsure how to respond, but it’s impossible not to feel the warmth of the words. He laughs softly, trying to hide the redness creeping up his neck. “I… uh… thank you,” he mumbles.

Namjoon and Yoongi, still standing beside him, share a quiet glance. Despite the teasing, there’s a warmth in their eyes when they look at Jungkook, a protective and almost possessive edge to their expressions. Jungkook knows that, no matter what Jisoo says, he’s with them, and that thought, while still new to him, brings a sense of comfort he didn’t think he’d ever find.

Jisoo finally hands the dagger to Jungkook with a wink. “There you go. A perfect fit for someone as beautiful as you.”

Jungkook takes the dagger gently, still feeling a little overwhelmed by the attention. But beneath it all, there’s a quiet certainty settling in his chest—he’s growing into himself, into his place within the pack, with their care and protection guiding him.

Namjoon places a steadying hand on his back as they step away from Jisoo’s counter, guiding him toward the exit. The shop’s air is thick with the scent of polished steel and treated leather, a stark contrast to the liveliness waiting outside. Yoongi murmurs a quiet thanks to Jisoo before pushing aside the heavy cloth that serves as a door, allowing the sun to spill in as they step back into the heart of the market.

The shift is immediate—merchants calling out, voices overlapping in a steady hum, the scent of roasted meat and fresh bread weaving through the air. Jungkook barely has a moment to adjust before something else—something unexpected—snags his senses. It’s faint at first, almost lost in the medley of market smells, but then it hits him fully, unmistakable and familiar.

His breath catches. His steps falter.

It’s a scent he knows.

Something in the air has changed, and Jungkook feels it deep in his bones.

There, standing by the edge of a stall, is Siwoo. The same alpha he had met just the day before. Jungkook doesn’t know why, but a sense of unease washes over him. The alpha had been polite, friendly even, and had barely said much, but for some reason, the way Siwoo stands there now, watching him, makes his stomach twist uncomfortably.

Siwoo spots them and immediately greets Jisoo, then Namjoon and Yoongi, his voice warm, as if they’re all long-time friends. Jisoo waves over to Jungkook with a teasing smile. “This is my little brother, Siwoo,” he says. Jungkook blinks, surprised. Siwoo is Jisoo’s brother? They definitely share similarities in their appearance. The same broad build, the same strong jawline, and the same presence. It’s not hard to see the family resemblance.

Namjoon and Yoongi greet Siwoo with ease, their voices warm and comfortable. Siwoo seems like a familiar face to them, someone they’ve known for a while. They share a quiet moment of camaraderie, and it’s clear they all have a mutual respect for each other.

But then Siwoo turns his gaze to Jungkook.

The shift is immediate. His eyes sharpen, his posture becomes just a little more intense. Jungkook can feel the weight of his gaze and instinctively takes a small step back. He doesn’t understand it, but something about the way Siwoo looks at him sends a flicker of unease through him.

“Ah, it’s good to see you again,” Siwoo says, his voice smooth, but there’s an edge to it now, like a hidden meaning beneath the words. The way he says it doesn’t feel as warm as when he greeted Jisoo and the others.

Jungkook’s pulse picks up, though he doesn’t know why. He manages a small, polite smile in return, though his unease doesn’t dissipate. “It’s good to see you too,” he says, his voice a little more cautious than he intended.

Namjoon and Yoongi exchange surprised glances when Siwoo mentions that he and Jungkook have met before. Their eyebrows furrow in curiosity, and they turn to Siwoo with interest.

“You two have met before?” Namjoon asks, his tone casual but with a hint of surprise. Yoongi’s sharp eyes flick between Siwoo and Jungkook, the silent question hanging in the air.

Siwoo gives a casual nod, his gaze never leaving Jungkook. “Yes. We met yesterday. Jungkook was with Seola, and she brought him to our picnic table.” His voice is smooth and confident, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Jungkook forces a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He nods slightly, hoping he doesn’t appear as uncomfortable as he feels. “Yes, Seola introduced us,” he says, trying to sound casual.

Namjoon and Yoongi seem pleased at the mention of Seola. Their expressions soften, and they both look back at Jungkook with a sense of approval. “Ah, so you’ve met two of our friends then,” Yoongi says, his voice warmer now. He gives Jungkook a reassuring smile, as if to make sure the younger man feels comfortable. Namjoon adds, “It’s good to know you’re meeting people. Seola’s a good friend, and she’s been looking out for Jiminie and Tae.”

Jungkook can see how pleased they are, and for a moment, it makes him feel better. But as Siwoo’s eyes remain fixed on him, that same uneasy feeling lingers. He can’t shake it, no matter how much he wants to. He forces his smile to stay in place, even though his insides are stirring with discomfort.

Before he can think too much about it, Siwoo speaks again, his voice a little softer now. “It was nice seeing you again, Jungkook,” he says, though there’s a trace of something in his tone that makes Jungkook’s skin prickle. “We should meet again sometime.”

Jungkook nods quickly, feeling a sense of relief flood through him at the thought of the conversation ending. “Sure. It was good seeing you too.”

Siwoo doesn’t linger. With a brief smile, he turns away and begins to walk off, disappearing into the crowd just as quickly as he had arrived. Jungkook watches him go, his unease still heavy in the pit of his stomach, but now that Siwoo is gone, he allows himself to breathe a little easier.

Namjoon and Yoongi, seeming oblivious to the tension, begin talking again, their conversation light and easy. But Jungkook can’t help but feel like something just doesn’t sit right with him about Siwoo. He doesn’t know why, but it’s a feeling he can’t ignore.

He hopes that next time, he’ll be able to shake the feeling and maybe understand why Siwoo makes him feel so on edge. For now, though, he focuses on staying in the moment with Namjoon and Yoongi, putting on a smile and pretending everything is fine.

After thanking Jisoo, Namjoon and Yoongi decide it’s time to eat. Jungkook agrees, his stomach already twisting in hunger as they navigate through the lively marketplace. The air is thick with the scent of roasting meats, spiced broths, and freshly baked bread, making his mouth water. They stop at a stall that looks warm and inviting, the kind that has been run by the same family for generations.

The stall is packed, customers crowding together as the vendors move quickly, filling bowls and wrapping food in neat parcels. Jungkook glances around, noting the lack of available seating. He remembers the picnic tables from yesterday, the area a little ways off from the busiest part of the market, where it was quieter and more open.

“I can go ahead and wait at the picnic tables,” Jungkook suggests, turning to Namjoon and Yoongi. “That way, I can find a seat before this place gets even busier.”

The reaction is immediate. Namjoon and Yoongi both stop in their tracks, turning to him with matching frowns.

“No,” Namjoon says flatly.

Jungkook blinks. “What?”

“You’re not going off alone,” Yoongi adds, arms crossing over his chest.

Jungkook tilts his head, confused by their sudden shift in attitude. “I was there just yesterday, I’m sure I’ll find my way,” he points out.

“That doesn’t mean you should go alone now,” Namjoon counters, his voice firm. “This market is crowded. Too many people. Too many alphas.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow. “It’s just a market. I’ll be fine.”

Yoongi scoffs, shaking his head. “You say that, but you have no idea how many people have been looking at you since we got here.”

That makes Jungkook freeze. His stomach twists at the thought, and he suddenly feels self-conscious, his arms instinctively moving to hug himself. “I—”

“I’ll go with you,” Yoongi cuts in, like that’s the final word on the matter.

Jungkook exhales through his nose, frustration bubbling in his chest. “You don’t have to. I know the way. I won’t get lost.”

Namjoon lets out a sharp breath, rubbing at his temple. “That’s not the point, Jungkook-ah.”

“Then what is the point?” Jungkook challenges. “You trust me, don’t you?” He doesn’t understand why his chest feels so tight all of a sudden. He knows they’re only looking out for him, their concern genuine—but still, something inside him stirs, unsettled.

Both alphas go silent at that, but their tense expressions don’t change. Namjoon looks like he’s fighting the urge to grab Jungkook and keep him glued to his side, while Yoongi’s jaw is clenched tight.

“It’s not about trust,” Namjoon finally says, voice low and controlled. “It’s about keeping you safe.”

Jungkook frowns, shifting his weight. “But I am safe”

Yoongi lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “You think you are.” His sharp gaze meets Jungkook’s. “You don’t know what it’s like to be an omega in a crowd like this.”

Jungkook stiffens at that, the words hitting him in a way he doesn’t like. “But I’m not an omega,” he mutters.

Namjoon sighs, his expression softening just slightly. “We know that, Kook-ah. But that doesn’t mean others won’t treat you like one.”

Jungkook grits his teeth, feeling like a child being scolded. “I can handle myself.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow. “And what will you do if some alpha decides to bother you?”

Jungkook hesitates. He doesn’t have an answer for that, and the silence that follows is enough for Yoongi to scoff again, shaking his head.

Namjoon steps closer then, his warmth and scent surrounding Jungkook, grounding but unyielding. “Kook,” he says, softer now. “I won’t force you to stay next to us. If you really want to explore a little then just stay where we can see you. Please.”

Jungkook exhales, his resolve crumbling at the clear worry in Namjoon’s voice. He shifts on his feet, reluctant but unable to keep arguing when they’re looking at him like that.

“…Fine,” he mutters, arms crossed.

Namjoon and Yoongi both visibly relax, though Yoongi smirks slightly as he ruffles Jungkook’s hair. “Good pup.”

Jungkook swats at his hand, face heating up. “Hyung!”

Yoongi just chuckles, stepping back to follow Namjoon toward the stall. Jungkook watches them go, still sulking a little, but underneath the frustration, there’s something warm and oddly reassuring about their protectiveness.

Even when he thinks he doesn’t need it, they’re always there. And maybe, just maybe, he likes that.

As they wait in line, Jungkook’s gaze wanders, taking in the lively market surrounding them. The air is thick with the scent of sizzling meats and spiced broths, but his attention is drawn to something else entirely—a small stall just across the aisle, displaying delicate jewelry that glimmers under the lantern light.

His fingers twitch with the urge to go look. The pieces are beautiful, intricately crafted rings, delicate bracelets, and pendants that catch the light just right. He hesitates for a moment, remembering how Namjoon and Yoongi had just scolded him for wanting to go off alone. But surely this is different, right? It’s close—just a few steps away. They had just assured him that he was free to explore, as long as he didn’t stray too far.

Jungkook turns to Namjoon and Yoongi, a hint of hesitance in his voice as he points toward a jewelry stall up ahead. "There’s a jewelry stall over there," he says, his fingers still hovering in the air. "Can I go have a quick look while you guys wait in line?"

Namjoon and Yoongi exchange a glance, their expressions shifting into something more serious as they follow the direction of his finger. The air around them seems to tighten with the weight of unspoken concern. Yoongi’s brow furrows almost immediately.

"No," Yoongi says flatly, cutting through the air before Jungkook has even finished speaking. His tone is curt, no room for negotiation.

Jungkook’s lips pout slightly as he sighs, a little exasperated. "I won’t be far—" he starts, but Namjoon cuts him off with a quiet firmness, his gaze settling on him with more authority than usual.

“We just talked about this, Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon says, his voice calm but unyielding. "You’re not wandering off alone."

Jungkook shifts his weight, the annoyance creeping up in his chest, but he tries to keep it in check. "It’s right there. You can literally see me." He gestures vaguely, the stall feeling within reach, just a few steps away.

Yoongi’s arms cross over his chest, his eyes narrowing as he studies Jungkook. “That’s not the point,” he grumbles, his voice low. "You smell too sweet, Kook-ah. Any alpha in the area would take one look at you and think you’re available for the taking."

Jungkook freezes, blinking in surprise, the words catching him off guard. “I—What? But I’m not.” His voice falters slightly, confusion knitting his brow.

Namjoon sighs, his expression softening, but only just. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words. "We know that," he says, his voice quieter now, though still firm. "But some alphas don’t know how to mind their own business."

Yoongi’s lips twist into a dissatisfied frown, and he nods in agreement. “That’s why we don’t trust them to leave you alone.”

Jungkook’s frown deepens as he looks back toward the stall. It’s so close. He wants to argue, to tell them he can take care of himself, but the memory of yesterday weighs heavy on him. The way Siwoo had looked at him, the overwhelming feeling of being unsure, unsettled—it’s a reminder that maybe, he doesn’t know the world around him as well as he thought. His heart tightens at the thought.

He exhales slowly, a quiet surrender in the release of his breath. "If I stay where you can see me, will that be okay?"

Both alphas hesitate, looking at each other in that silent exchange only they seem to understand. Jungkook watches the shift of their gazes, the quiet deliberation between them. He knows they’re not happy with the idea, but they’re trying not to smother him completely, trying to let him have a small sense of freedom.

Namjoon’s shoulders sag slightly, as though a weight presses on him, and he rubs the back of his neck before answering. “Stay where we can see you. Don’t go further than that stall.”

Yoongi’s gaze sharpens, his concern still evident even in his grumble. “And if you feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable, you come straight back here.” His tone is firm, not leaving room for doubt.

Jungkook nods quickly, eager to take the small victory. He can feel the weight of their protectiveness, but it’s comforting, even if it’s a little overwhelming. “I will hyungs. I promise.”

Yoongi looks at him for a beat longer, his expression softening but still tinged with reluctance. “You better,” he mutters under his breath.

Namjoon adds, his voice steady, “And don’t forget—we don’t have a mind link with you. If something happens, we won’t know unless we see it.”

The words hit Jungkook with a sudden force, the full weight of their care and responsibility settling over him. It’s not that they don’t trust him. It’s that they don’t trust others. And as much as it makes him feel small, it also makes him feel safe in a way he never knew he needed.

He swallows, his chest tightening, but he offers them a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll be careful, hyungs.”

 With that, he takes a small step back, moving toward the stall, but he can still feel their eyes on him. 

Their presence is like an invisible tether, keeping him grounded even as he takes the first steps toward his small freedom.

And even though he knows they won’t look away until he’s back at their side, that reassurance makes him feel safer than he ever expected.

Notes:

Hey y'all!! 😊

It’s about time we got more Jungkook with the alphas! Although, Jungkook’s being a little difficult. Poor bunny’s struggling with so many feelings he doesn’t quite understand yet 😔. And can we talk about how I want a cute, bedazzled dagger too? 💎 I mean, if someone’s gotta carry one, it might as well be a cute one like Kookie’s, right? (Because, let’s face it, some people are just creeps 😏.)

I’m still laughing at Namjoon and Jin’s backstory 😂. Namjoon was bold, huh? But honestly, is anyone surprised Jin got all those courting offers? Not me! He’s too beautiful, WWH 😍. I just know Namjoon must have been pissed every time someone tried to court Jin. And that kiss? 😘 I can’t. The possessiveness? I’m here for it! He just KNEW Jin was his. That’s the kind of intensity that gets me every time 🔥.

And look who’s back—Siwoo! 👀 What’s he up to this time? I know y’all have your theories, and I’m loving reading all of them. It’s so much fun, really!

But seriously, Jungkook, can you please listen to your hyungs?? Just yesterday, Jin told you to trust your instincts, but you totally ignored him 🙄. And now you’re not listening to the alphas?? I swear, this boy is helpless sometimes 🤦‍♀️. (But hey, it’s good for the plot 😂)

By the way, have you heard J-Hope’s "Mona Lisa"? 🎶 I’m obsessed. I added it to my Spotify playlist before even listening to it because I just knew it was gonna be my vibe 😎. I’ve been listening to it non-stop while getting my 10K steps in today! 👟 (Also loving Jimin’s "Like Crazy" and Jungkook’s "Standing Next To You"! They’re on repeat too! 🎧)

But honestly, I don’t know if he wrote the song with someone in mind (Or just pretty women in general), but can you just imagine being so stunning that someone writes a whole song about how you're like a living art piece? 😍 Like, wow, I’d love to experience that kind of beauty in my next life, haha! ✨

On that note, see you in the next chapter! Take care, y’all! 💖

Chapter 43: A Moment of Defiance

Summary:

Jungkook simply wanted to admire the pretty jewelry.

Jungkook hesitates for only a moment before slipping away from Namjoon and Yoongi’s side, weaving through the bustling crowd. The scent of roasted meat and spiced rice lingers in the air, but his attention is elsewhere. He glances back once before making his way toward the jewelry stall he'd asked them about earlier. 

He doesn’t know why he reacted the way he did. He feels guilty about it already. Namjoon and Yoongi had only been trying to keep him safe—they hadn’t done anything wrong. And yet, their behavior had frustrated him. They treat him the same way they treat Jimin and Taehyung, like he's young, fragile, someone who needs constant protection.  

Realistically, he knows they’re right. He doesn’t know how to defend himself, not really. If something were to happen, he wouldn’t stand a chance. But still, the feeling lingers, twisting inside him. Maybe this urge to push back isn’t about defiance. Maybe it’s because he’s never been in this position before. He’s always had to fend for himself, always had to be the one looking out for his own survival. Their care, their concern, it overwhelms him. It makes his head spin.  

Maybe it’s not just about testing boundaries, not about seeing how much they’ll allow. Maybe it’s about something deeper. Maybe he needs to push, to see if they’ll still be there, to be sure they mean it when they say they’ll take care of him. Maybe he just needs the reassurance that, no matter what, they won’t let go.

He’ll apologize later, he knows that much. But right now, it’s too late to back out. If he turned around now, it would just look stupid. Besides, he really had wanted to check out the jewelry even if, deep down, it hadn’t really been about the jewelry at all.  

As he weaves through the bustling market, he realizes the stall is a little farther than he thought. But it should be fine. He can still see Namjoon and Yoongi in the distance, which means they can see him too, though the shifting crowd makes it harder, bodies moving between them in an ever-changing flow.  

When he finally reaches the stall, his breath catches. The jewelry is beautiful. Delicate silver chains, tiny gemstone rings, intricate pendants that glint under the lantern light. He’s never owned anything like this before. In fact, he’s never owned jewelry at all. The closest he’s ever come is the pretty blue flower Yoongi had given him once, petals soft and cool in his palm. But that doesn’t really count.

His fingers brush over a delicate silver chain, admiring the way it glints under the light. Everything is beautiful, each piece more mesmerizing than the last. He barely notices the crowd shifting around him, too focused on the fine craftsmanship in front of him.

But then, a voice cuts through the market chatter.

"Hey, look at that. Haven’t seen you around before."

Jungkook freezes. He glances up to see four shifters lounging a few feet away, standing near the stall, across from him. They're all tall, broad, and exuding an air of confidence that makes his stomach twist. One of them has a lazy smirk on his lips, nudging his friend as he nods in Jungkook’s direction. The others follow his gaze, their eyes flickering with interest.

Jungkook immediately looks away, pretending he didn’t hear them. He should go back to Namjoon and Yoongi. Maybe they’d been right, maybe this was a mistake.

But before he can step back toward the food stall, the group moves. It’s casual, almost unnoticeable, but suddenly, they’re positioned closer, one to his right, another a step behind him, two in front. Not completely blocking him in, but enough to make him feel trapped. Jungkook grips the edge of the wooden stall, trying to keep his breathing even.

One of the shifters tilts his head slightly, inhaling. “You smell real sweet,” he remarks, his tone light but laced with something Jungkook doesn’t like. “Which pack are you from pretty?”

Jungkook forces a small, polite smile. “I, um… I’m just visiting,” he says, shifting slightly to the side.

The shifter nearest to him moves at the same time, cutting off his escape without making it seem deliberate. “Visiting, huh? That’s interesting.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. His heart beats a little too fast and he tries not to show it. The group isn’t doing anything explicitly wrong. They’re not threatening him, not touching him, not blocking him outright. But the way they’re standing, the way they’re watching him, makes his instincts scream that something isn’t right.

He glances quickly toward where Namjoon and Yoongi are waiting in line, but they’re too far away, their backs turned. He can't see them clearly, the market growing busier as the crowd swells around him, lantern light casting shifting shadows over unfamiliar faces. Jungkook swallows. He doesn’t want to cause trouble. He just needs to leave.

“Excuse me,” he says, keeping his voice light, trying to act like he’s not rattled. “I should get back.” He takes a step forward. One of the shifters moves, stepping just slightly into his path.

“Leaving already?” the first man asks, tilting his head. “We were just trying to get to know you.”

Jungkook tenses. The way they’re positioned now, he can’t leave without pushing past them and he would rather avoid getting too close. His heart pounds. This doesn’t feel right.

He tries not to panic. He knows he shouldn’t. They aren’t hurting him. They haven’t touched him. But there’s something about the way they look at him, like they’re toying with him, like they’re circling him just to see how he'll react. Their smirks are sharp, their gazes heavier than they need to be, lingering on him in a way that makes his skin feel too tight.

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, forcing himself to hold his ground. He doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing his discomfort, but it’s hard when their attention is so direct, pressing against him like a weight he can’t shake off.

“I really need to go,” he says, keeping his voice steady despite the uneasy flutter in his chest. “My friends are waiting for me.”

The shifter standing directly in front of him tilts his head. He’s tall, broad, with a sharp jaw and an even sharper smirk, and something about him makes Jungkook’s stomach curl in warning.

“Oh? Friends?” His gaze flickers past Jungkook, scanning the market until his eyes land on Namjoon and Yoongi still standing in line. His smirk widens slightly before he looks back at Jungkook. “What, those two alphas over there?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer. His fingers twitch at his sides. He isn't sure how they managed to figure out who he was referring to, especially with the crowd bustling around them.

A second shifter, standing just a little behind him, lets out a low chuckle. “You must be real special to have alphas like that looking after you.” His eyes rake over Jungkook slowly, like he’s studying something interesting and Jungkook feels the weight of it and forces himself to stay still.

The first shifter hums, crossing his arms over his chest. “They're your mates or something?”

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard by the sudden question. “No—”

“Oh,” He cuts in before Jungkook can even finish, his smirk turning sly. “That’s real interesting.”

There’s a shift in the air, something that makes Jungkook’s pulse stutter.

“You’re not mated?” another one of the shifters asks, sounding far too intrigued for Jungkook’s liking. He leans in slightly, breathing in, and Jungkook fights the urge to step back. “That’s… surprising.”

Jungkook’s body locks up. They must be catching the faint traces of Namjoon and Yoongi’s scents on him, the way the alphas had stood close earlier, how their presence had wrapped around him like something protective. But it’s not a mark. Not a claim. Just the natural way scents cling when people spend time together. And these people, whoever they are, can tell.

“So, what, they just keep you around for fun?” one of them muses, head tilting as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “Or are you waiting for a better alpha?”

Jungkook feels his stomach twist, a small knot of unease forming deep in his gut. He doesn’t like where this is going. The way they look at him, the way they speak, it’s all too familiar in a way. He’s been in situations like this before, back in his old village. Back with Sungil. Sungil had looked at him like this too, had spoken to him in the same sickly-sweet tone, had taken pleasure in toying with him.

“I’m not waiting for anything,” he says, his voice firm, though he can hear the way his own words sound tight.

The shifters exchange glances, their amusement only growing, and that makes it worse. They don’t believe him. They think this is funny. They think he’s enjoying the attention, that he’s just playing hard to get. Or worse, maybe they know he’s uncomfortable and are savoring his distress. He isn’t sure which is worse. But it doesn’t matter. Either way, the outcome is the same.  

They won’t back off.

Jungkook’s hands feel clammy. His throat feels tight. He hates this, hates how they’re making him feel like something small, something meant to be picked apart for their own amusement. He hates how powerless he feels. Hates that no matter what he does, he can’t seem to escape.

“You sure?” The dark-haired shifter steps forward just enough that Jungkook feels the heat of his body, just enough that the space between them feels too little. “Because if you are waiting… you should know, there are plenty of alphas out there who wouldn’t mind taking care of you. I'm sure the four of us could take much better care of you.”

Jungkook swallows hard. So, all four of them are alphas.  

But they’re not Namjoon or Yoongi, and he hates that.  

He’s never really thought about it before, never paid much attention to designations beyond what the pack had explained to him. But now, those lessons come rushing back. How alphas have stronger scents, how it’s the easiest way to tell someone’s designation. And these four alphas, there’s no mistaking what they are. Their scents are thick, overpowering, suffocating. They reek of dominance, of something heavy and unpleasant.  

Come to think of it, the only alpha scents he’s ever liked were Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s. Not that he’s met many alphas before, but he knows, instinctively, that he’ll never like another, not when he already has Namjoon and Yoongi.  

But then he remembers something else Seokjin had told him. Alphas are always physically stronger than betas and omegas by nature. They're stronger than humans. That realization settles like a weight in his stomach. He’s overpowered. Outnumbered. Even if he wanted to fight back, he wouldn’t stand a chance.  

And that is the scariest part of all.

He wants to leave but stands frozen, eyes wide, as the space between them continues to close. The weight of their presence presses down on him, suffocating, a constant reminder that he’s not in control. The first alpha, tall, imposing, steps a little too close, just enough that his scent is too overpowering, too close for comfort. Jungkook feels the heat radiating off his body, the strong scent of him washing over him in waves that make his heart race.

His pulse quickens as the alpha’s gaze sharpens. The air feels thick with tension, and he can’t tell if it’s his own fear making his breath shallow or if it’s the alpha’s gaze that’s tightening everything around him. He can feel every second dragging like an eternity, every small movement they make sending a shiver of unease through his spine.

“You know,” the alpha says, voice low and dangerous, as if he’s savoring every word, “you don’t have to stay with those two. There’s plenty of alphas out here who’d appreciate a pretty thing like you.”

Jungkook’s throat tightens. His hands, once resting calmly by his sides, curl into fists, nails digging into his palms as if he could anchor himself to something, anything, just to make the feeling of this moment go away. His heart beats erratically in his chest, the sound deafening in his ears. He swallows, but it does nothing to ease the dry, burning feeling in his throat.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, trying to keep his voice from trembling, trying to project a strength he doesn’t feel. He forces himself to hold his ground, but every instinct in his body screams at him to run, to find safety, to escape the overwhelming presence of these men who seem so entitled to his attention, so intent on making him feel small.

The second alpha, a little shorter but no less imposing, steps forward, his scent creeping into the air like a predator stalking its prey. “You don’t have to be so shy sweet thing,” he says, his voice a mockery of understanding. He leans in closer, and Jungkook can feel the alpha’s breath against his ear, his words dripping like honey, sweet but venomous. “It’s okay to want to be wanted, you know. To feel wanted. You don’t have to pretend like you don’t like the attention.”

Jungkook’s body tenses at the proximity, a small tremor running down his spine. He’s close enough to feel the heat of the alpha’s breath, the brush of his presence like an invisible hand on his skin, heavy and suffocating. His hands want to shake, but he forces himself to keep them still, to make himself look like he’s in control even though every nerve in his body is screaming for release, for escape.

The first alpha chuckles, the sound dark and low, sending a chill down Jungkook’s back. “Don’t act so innocent,” he says, voice taking on a teasing tone that feels anything but playful. “You must know how many alphas out there are looking for someone like you. Wanting someone like you.”

“I’m not interested,” Jungkook says, his voice trembling slightly despite himself. He can feel his cheeks burning, the words leaving his mouth almost too easily, as if he’s been rehearsing them. It feels like he’s on the edge of breaking down, like one wrong word, one wrong move, will push him too far.

The third alpha’s smirk widens, and he leans in just a little, his body closing in on Jungkook’s personal space. “Oh? You sure about that, sweetheart? Because it sure doesn’t look like you’re not interested. You’ve been standing here the whole time and you haven’t moved away. Haven’t even looked away. And that sweet little scent of yours? It’s like you were calling for us, begging us to come find you."

Sweetheart. Jungkook hates that the Alpha called him that, hates it because that's what Seokjin and Hoseok call him. When they say it, it feels warm, safe. But now, the word feels tainted, like an insult.

None of it is true. None of it. He’s tried to leave, but they won’t let him. Won’t give him a way out.

And he hates the way they talk about his scent, hates the words they use, the way they twist something so familiar into something sickening. Sweet. That’s what his pack call his scent, what his hyungs say with warmth and affection. But from these strangers, the word feels tainted, corrupted. Like they’re taking something that belongs to him and making it dirty.

Jungkook’s heart races even faster, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. They're so close now, too close and he feels the pressure of their attention closing in, suffocating him. The space around him feels smaller, tighter, until he feels like he’s going to explode. He knows he should move, should get away, but his body won’t listen, his feet glued to the ground like they’re made of stone.

“Maybe you just need to learn how to relax,” the fourth alpha purrs, voice thick with something dark and predatory. “Maybe you just need someone to take care of you. Alphas who know how to handle someone like you.”

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat. It feels wrong, all wrong, but the words are like a vice tightening around his chest, making it harder to breathe. The way they look at him, the way they stand too close, their words dripping with something he can’t quite name, it’s like they’re picking at his fears, prodding at things he doesn’t know how to deal with. The urge to run is overwhelming, but his body feels frozen.

The alphas move in even closer, their proximity suffocating, their intentions clear in the way their eyes roam over him. The space around him suddenly feels small, oppressive, and every breath he takes feels heavier, like it’s being sucked out of him.

The first alpha steps forward, his scent washing over Jungkook in thick waves, a mixture of ash and something sharp, something predatory. Jungkook instinctively takes a step back, but the alpha’s gaze catches him, eyes narrowing slightly as he lingers just a little too long on his body. He doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze drifts downwards.

“You know,” the alpha murmurs, his voice low and husky, dripping with something dark and intoxicating, “you’re even prettier real close. Such a delicate little thing... so much more than just a pretty face. You've got a nice body too. I can just imagine how perfectly my hands would fit around your waist."

Jungkook stiffens, his heart skipping in his chest. His hands curl into fists at his sides, nails biting into his palms as he tries to ignore the unsettling feeling creeping through him. The alpha steps forward again, closing the gap between them, and Jungkook freezes, unwilling to move in case it gives them more of a reason to advance.

“I’m sure you’ve heard it before,” the second alpha chimes in, his voice just as dark. He reaches out, his fingers trailing across the back of Jungkook’s arm in a slow, deliberate motion, as if testing the waters, as if seeing how far he can push. “A pretty little omega like you, you must get a lot of attention, don’t you? But we could treat you better. We could make you feel so good. I bet you’d like that, hm?”

Jungkook’s breath hitches, a shiver running down his spine as the alpha’s hand drags across his skin. His pulse is hammering in his ears, his body trembling ever so slightly, but he doesn’t dare move. He doesn’t want to give them any more of a reason to escalate. But he can’t stop the way his skin tingles from the touch, the way it makes his stomach twist in discomfort.

He feels like he’s going to be sick. The way they’re talking about him, the way they look at him, it twists his stomach in knots, makes him feel filthy, just like he did with Sungil. And in an instant, it’s like he’s back there again. Back on Sungil’s lap, the man’s hand on his waist, too close, too invasive. Unwanted words, unwanted touches. The feeling of helplessness floods back, drowning him in that same suffocating, suffocating fear.

Before he can react, another one of the alphas leans in even closer, lowering his voice to a whisper that sends a chill straight to his bones. “I wonder how good you'd feel, with strong alphas like us taking care of you. I can already tell you'd be so good for us. You’d beg so beautifully." he muses, his breath too warm against Jungkook’s ear. The words drip with possessiveness, making Jungkook’s skin crawl. “You’d look so nice, tucked away somewhere… vulnerable and submissive. Maybe we’ll take you home.”

Jungkook’s stomach turns. He can barely process what’s happening. The air feels thick, too thick, suffocating him as the second alpha brushes his hand over his shoulder, fingers trailing down his arm, lingering a little too long before he grips Jungkook’s wrist with firm fingers. His touch is too personal, and Jungkook feels like a piece of property being inspected, appraised for its worth.

“You’d look good with us, pretty” the second alpha says as his eyes trail over Jungkook’s body, gaze lingering on his chest, then lower. “I bet you'd feel so nice pressed under me.”

Jungkook’s heart hammers in his chest, his breath coming quicker as his body goes rigid under their scrutiny. He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want any of this. But all he can do is stand there, rooted to the spot, fighting the urge to break free. His hands are clenched so tightly, he can feel his nails digging into his palms. His chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, his mind scrambling for any way to escape the suffocating weight of the alphas’ attention.

The first alpha raises a hand, and Jungkook can only watch in horror as it comes toward him, fingers curling toward his cheek, brushing just under his jaw in an invasive, possessive motion. “You’re so pretty little omega,” the alpha murmurs, like he’s tasting the words on his tongue. His touch is far too intimate, and Jungkook wants nothing more than to rip away, to run as fast as he can, but his feet feel like they’re stuck in place.

He can’t move. He’s trapped.

The second alpha leans in, his voice becoming a low hum as his eyes flicker to Jungkook’s lips, then back to his eyes. “Maybe we can have some fun with you, make you feel good. Take you somewhere quiet, away from all these people. We can show you just how good it can be… what it feels like to have someone want you.”

Jungkook’s stomach drops, his breath hitching. The words, the tone, the way they’re talking to him—it’s too much. He's shaking now, the tremors so deep, he’s afraid they’ll be visible. He wants to scream, to shove them off, but his mind is stuck in a fog of panic, his muscles frozen under their touch.

He can feel their eyes on him, like they’re stripping him down with just their gazes. He’s never felt more exposed in his life.

"Come on, sweetheart," the first alpha says, his voice rough, like he’s barely holding back the growl in his throat. "Don’t pretend like you don’t want it. We know you do. All you have to do is let us take care of you."

At that moment, just as Jungkook feels like he might collapse under the weight of their words, their proximity, a presence slices through the air. It’s commanding, filled with authority.

Jungkook smells their scents before he sees them. The air shifts, thickening with the scent of his alphas—strong, overwhelming, and filled with a sharp, potent edge of anger and rage that makes his heart clench in his chest. The moment their scents hits him, something in his body reacts violently, a rush of fear and adrenaline flooding through him. It’s as if every part of him knows that the alphas are close—his protectors, the ones who keep him safe—and that the danger is about to reach its boiling point.

The alpha’s hand still lingers on his cheek, far too intimate, far too possessive. The other grips his wrist with bruising force, the pressure like a weight around his pulse. Jungkook’s stomach churns as he forces himself not to show how much he wants to pull away, how his body wants to recoil at the touch, but he holds himself still, his breaths shallow and panicked.

He knows better than to resist too much, he doesn’t want to provoke them more than they already are. His eyes feel glassy, his vision blurry as the sharp sting of tears presses against his eyelids, threatening to spill over. He desperately holds them back, not wanting to show weakness, but his body trembles all the same, his pulse racing with a mixture of fear and helplessness.

Jungkook can barely focus, his vision blurry through the haze of fear, but he looks up anyway. His heart races when he meets Namjoon and Yoongi's gazes, sharp and unrelenting.

Everything changes in that moment.

Namjoon’s face twists with rage, his chest rumbling with a deep growl that vibrates through the air. His eyes narrow, fury burning through them as they lock onto the hand on his face. Jungkook’s breath hitches, terror flooding him. But then, amidst the fear, something else surges up inside him, a sudden, undeniable feeling of safety. It’s like Namjoon’s presence alone is enough to shield him from everything, a warm, protective force that grounds him even as his heart pounds with panic.

Yoongi’s gaze is just as harsh, his eyes burning with the same intensity, but it’s his body that truly grabs Jungkook’s attention. The way he stands, every muscle drawn tight, his posture rigid, like a coiled spring waiting to unravel. There’s something dangerous in the way Yoongi holds himself, completely still on the surface, but the tension beneath is palpable, like he’s holding back a storm. One wrong move, one slight provocation, and Yoongi will snap.

Before Jungkook can even blink, Namjoon’s moving. It’s all too fast to follow. One second, he’s standing there, trapped between the alphas. The next, Namjoon’s arm is around him, pulling him back with a force that makes his head spin. There’s no hesitation in it, just sheer ferocity, and suddenly, he’s hidden behind Namjoon’s broad back, shielded from their view. It’s like the world has narrowed to this one moment, Namjoon’s presence, the fierce protection, the overwhelming sense that nothing else matters but keeping him safe.

The moment Jungkook is hidden behind Namjoon’s towering form, he feels a wave of relief that crashes over him like a safety net. His heart still pounds erratically in his chest, but the tightness in his stomach eases, just slightly. He feels Namjoon’s warmth, the protective aura that surrounds him, a shield from the danger he was just exposed to.

Yoongi is right next to them, standing close enough that Jungkook can feel the heat of his body pressing into his side, the scent of him calming his frantic pulse. Yoongi’s presence is like a grounding force, and Jungkook instinctively leans into it, though he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

He can’t stop the small, breathless exhale that escapes him, a shaky sigh of relief as he presses his hands against Namjoon’s back, needing the physical reassurance that he’s safe. His breathing is still ragged, the panic from just moments ago swirling in his chest, but behind Namjoon, he feels like he has a chance to breathe again. 

Namjoon’s voice is low, thick with anger, and Jungkook can feel it vibrating through his chest, the intensity of it almost too much to bear. “Stay behind me,” Namjoon growls, his words barely a whisper but laced with such force that Jungkook doesn’t question them for a second. His body seems to settle against Namjoon’s, the familiar scent of his alpha’s strength, his protection, filling his lungs.

Yoongi is silent for a moment, his gaze flickering between Jungkook and the group of alphas, assessing the situation with razor-sharp precision. His hand rests lightly on Jungkook’s face, a subtle touch, but it’s enough to make Jungkook feel like the ground beneath him has finally solidified. “You're safe now, pup,” Yoongi murmurs softly, his voice filled with quiet fury. His tone is cool, collected, but Jungkook can feel the simmering heat beneath it, the rage that’s barely contained in Yoongi’s every word.

The air around them seems to crackle with tension, thick with the presence of the two alphas and the other four, still lingering nearby. Jungkook can feel his heart thudding in his chest, but it’s different now. It’s not just fear, it’s a fear that’s slowly being replaced with relief.

He doesn’t look at the four alphas. He doesn’t want to. Instead, he focuses on Namjoon and Yoongi.

The four alphas seem to shrink back, hesitant and uneasy, their confidence faltering in the face of the sheer power radiating from Namjoon and Yoongi.

The air feels like it’s charged with static, thick and heavy with the tension that crackles in every corner. Jungkook feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and his breath catches in his throat. His heart is beating wildly, but it's not just fear that makes it race. It’s something instinctive, like his body recognizes the danger of what’s happening and is bracing itself for impact.

He feels Namjoon move first. The growl that rumbles from his chest is deep, raw, and filled with so much fury that Jungkook instinctively takes a step back, hiding behind the safety of Namjoon’s imposing form. The sound vibrates in the air, a warning that the alphas around them should heed, should have known better than to mess with them.

Jungkook can feel it in his bones, Namjoon isn’t just angry—he’s furious.

His hands tremble, but he stays still, pressing himself closer to Namjoon’s back again, grateful for the wall between him and the alphas. He watches through Namjoon’s broad frame, his heart thudding painfully as Yoongi steps forward, his aura just as intense as Namjoon’s. Yoongi doesn’t growl like Namjoon, his anger is colder, sharper, a blade that can cut through the tension without effort. His eyes flash with icy fury, narrowing as they lock onto the four alphas, daring them to make another move.

"You've got about two seconds to walk away, or I’ll make sure you regret ever laying a hand on our pup for the rest of your pathetic lives,” Yoongi’s voice is low, dark, and dripping with the promise of violence. His words slice through the air with a finality that has the unknown alphas faltering. Yoongi's tone might sound calm enough to anyone else, but Jungkook knows better. That calm is dangerous. It’s the calm before the storm that rips everything apart.

The alphas seem to hesitate, the cocky smirks fading just enough to reveal the wariness creeping into their expressions. But it seems they underestimate the danger they're about to face because Jungkook watches as one of them, the one who had touched his cheek too casually, tries to smooth over the tension. He speaks with false sweetness, like he’s trying to convince Namjoon and Yoongi that his actions were harmless, that he’d done nothing wrong.

“We found the sweet thing all alone at the stall,” the alpha says, his voice dripping with false concern, but it only makes Jungkook’s stomach churn. “We just wanted to take care of him, you know? He’s such a pretty little thing, he deserves someone to look after him, to give him what he needs…” His tone is sickly sweet, like he’s talking about a pet rather than a person, and it makes Jungkook’s skin crawl.

Jungkook doesn’t even have time to register his thoughts before Yoongi’s anger ignites. His eyes darken, burning with fury, and his lips curl back in a snarl so full of rage that it shakes Jungkook to his core. Before Jungkook can react, Yoongi moves, fast, so fast. One moment, the alpha is standing next to him, the next, Yoongi has lunged, grabbing the man by the collar, almost yanking him off his feet.

Yoongi’s growl rips through the air, vibrating with menace. It’s low, guttural, and full of raw warning, sending a ripple of dread through the alpha who’d dared speak of him like that. The alpha’s eyes widen in shock as Yoongi pulls him close, their faces inches apart, the tension so thick it’s almost suffocating. 

“Touch him again,” Yoongi growls, his voice low and deadly, dripping with venom. “And I’ll make sure you regret it for the rest of your miserable life. Death would be a mercy compared to what I’d do to you.” The threat lingers in the air, the power in Yoongi’s presence undeniable, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a surge of both fear and comfort in knowing that Yoongi will protect him at all costs.

One of the other alphas, still not understanding the full weight of Yoongi’s fury, scoffs and takes step forward. His lips curl into a smug smile, eyes gleaming with a twisted sense of entitlement. “You think you scare us?” he sneers, his voice dripping with condescension. “The pup was all alone at the stall, smelling like that. It was like he was begging for someone to take him home. No words were even necessary. He practically invited us.”

Jungkook’s stomach lurches at the way the alpha speaks about him, his words making him feel exposed, like he’s nothing more than an object to be claimed. At the words, Yoongi’s grip on the alpha’s collar tightens, his fingers digging into the fabric with a force that speaks of barely contained fury.

Yoongi’s growl rumbles through the air, deep and menacing, as his fingers clamp down on the alpha’s collar, yanking him closer. His gaze locks onto the one who’d just spoken, eyes burning with fury.

“Shut the fuck up,” Yoongi spits out, his voice so sharp it feels like it could slice through the tension in the air. His words come out laced with venom, each one punctuated with a deadly promise. 

His eyes burn with a cold, dangerous rage, locking onto the alpha who dared speak. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about our mate like that,” Yoongi snarls, his voice low and lethal. “Or I’ll make sure your mother won’t even have a bone to bury when I’m done with you.” Yoongi snarls, his voice thick with fury, a threat hanging in the air like a storm ready to break. The alpha’s smile falters slightly, but he doesn’t back down, not realizing how close he is to his own undoing.

Yoongi’s grip on the alpha's collar tightens further, a raw, menacing force behind the movement. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with,” he warns, his voice low but laced with an icy venom that promises a pain far worse than anything this alpha could ever imagine.

“Touch him again, speak of him again, hell, think of him again,” Yoongi growls, his voice dripping with venom, “and I’ll make sure you regret it. You’ll beg me to end it, because what I have planned for you will make death feel like a mercy.”

Every word Yoongi says is a threat so real, so tangible, that the air around them feels charged, crackling with the power of Yoongi’s resolve. Jungkook can feel the tension wrap around him like a suffocating cloud, but there’s a strange sense of safety in it, too, Yoongi’s words, his actions, promising that no one will ever hurt him again.

Namjoon’s voice joins Yoongi’s, but his is louder, deeper, full of rage and possessiveness. “You thought you could lay a hand on our mate? You really thought you could mess with him and get away with it?” Namjoon snarls, stepping forward just enough to close the distance between him and the other alphas, leaving Jungkook a step behind. His chest rises and falls with each ragged breath, his muscles tense, his frame even more imposing as he moves into their space.

His words are sharp, like a blade slicing through the air. “You think you have the right to touch him? To claim him as if he’s something you can just take?” The words make Jungkook’s chest tighten with emotion. Namjoon’s protective rage is like a shield around him.

“Shut your fucking mouths if you value your miserable lives, because we won’t hesitate to end them right here,” Namjoon growls, his voice low, deep, and threatening. His eyes, a shade a crimson that jungkook had never seen before. He takes a step closer, forcing the alphas to feel the weight of his anger, to understand just how much danger they’re in if they don’t back down. “Because if you don’t, I’ll savor breaking every single one of your bones for daring to lay a hand on my pup.”

Jungkook can’t see it, but he knows the alphas must be feeling it, the sheer force of Namjoon’s protective nature, the raw energy that radiates from him like an iron shield. The unknown alphas falter, unsure, their cocky demeanor cracking at the edges. Jungkook feels a flicker of hope rise in his chest. They’re backing down, slowly but surely.

But then one of them mutters, trying to justify his actions. “His neck is bare,” he says, his voice now trying to sound confident, but it wavers. “He’s free game. He’s not mated, so...” He trails off when Yoongi’s voice cuts through the air like a razor-sharp blade.

Before Jungkook can even react, the alpha is slammed hard against the side wall of the stall, Yoongi’s hand wrapped tightly around his neck, pinning him in place.

“I told you to shut the hell up, but clearly, you can't follow a simple fucking order, can you?” Yoongi snaps, his eyes narrowing into slits, his gaze sharp enough to pierce through bone. The words are enough to make the alpha freeze, to make his words choke in his throat.

Jungkook thinks that the alpha couldn’t even utter a word if he tried, with Yoongi’s hand wrapped tightly around his throat. He can feel the weight of Yoongi’s words press down on him, a suffocating force that makes the world feel still, like time itself has stopped. Yoongi’s presence wraps around Jungkook like a tight, unbreakable chain, and for a brief moment, the fear inside him dissipates. Yoongi’s here. Yoongi will protect him.

“I swear on the Moon Goddess, I will end your pathetic life right here if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Yoongi snarls, his voice low and deadly. “I’ll cut your fucking tongue out so you can never speak again. I’ll take my sweet time tearing your eyes out before breaking every bone in your body,” Yoongi growls, his voice low, cold, and filled with something primal that makes Jungkook’s heart race. There’s no room for argument in Yoongi’s words, no mercy, just raw, protective fury.

The alphas falter, their bravado crumbling under the weight of Namjoon and Yoongi’s anger. One of them try to reach for Jungkook, but Namjoon doesn’t hesitate for a second. He’s there in a flash, his hand grabbing the alpha by the arm, pulling him back with unyielding strength.

“Don’t fucking tempt me,” Namjoon growls, his voice a deadly whisper. “Try to lay a hand on my pup again, and I’ll rip you apart right here, you worthless piece of shit.” He snarls, his grip tight and unforgiving. “Walk away. Now.”

The alphas stiffen, realizing the gravity of the situation. The cocky smirks fade for good, and all that’s left in their eyes is wariness. They don’t stand a chance against the force of Namjoon and Yoongi’s wrath.

Jungkook stands there, a step behind Namjoon, his chest tight, but his heart swelling with a sense of safety he’s never felt before. He’s not alone. Not anymore. Namjoon and Yoongi are here, and they’ll protect him. Always. The fear that had once been suffocating starts to melt away, leaving a new feeling in its place, something that makes his heart flutter in his chest.

He’s safe.

The alphas slowly back off, their pride bruised and their heads hung low as they take the unspoken hint. The moment they turn away, the tension that had been suffocating the air begins to lift, but it leaves behind a thick weight in the pit of Jungkook’s stomach.

Jungkook’s hands grip the back of Namjoon’s coat tightly, his knuckles white with the effort to hold onto him, as if he needs to feel the solid presence of the alpha, to ground himself after the chaos. His chest heaves with uneven breaths, and the moment he watches the alphas leave, the floodgates inside him finally open. Tears start to spill down his cheeks in a rush, hot and fast, and he can’t stop them.

“H-Hyungs... I-I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, his voice breaking. His shoulders tremble with the force of the apology, but it feels like his heart is shattering all over again. “It’s all my fault... I—” He’s gasping for air between his sobs, a deep, gnawing guilt clawing at him. “You told me not to go. You told me twice... but I didn’t listen. I thought I knew better. I—”

Before he can finish, a warmth surrounds him. Namjoon turns, bringing him close, his large frame offering Jungkook the kind of protection that feels like a shield against the storm. One hand moves to his lower back, steadying him, while the other cradles the back of his head, pulling him closer into the embrace. Namjoon’s scent is comforting, grounding, and it fills Jungkook’s senses, the soothing rhythm of his breath in sync with the gentle pressure of his hands.

“Shh, pup,” Namjoon murmurs, his voice steady and calm, an anchor amidst the chaos. “It’s not your fault. It was their fault, not yours.” His voice rumbles with deep conviction, an unshakable certainty that makes the fear in Jungkook’s chest ease just slightly. “You’re not to blame. Never. They were wrong for what they did.”

Jungkook grips Namjoon tighter, his fingers trembling as he clings to him. The tears that had been held back for so long finally break free, streaming down his face. He hates that they’re falling. He had tried so hard to keep them at bay, to hold it together, but being with his alphas, he feels a safety he hasn’t known before. It’s a relief, but it also feels like a weight he’s been carrying is finally crumbling away.

“Hyungs,” Jungkook whispers through a sob, his voice cracking. “They... they lied. They said I begged them to come. That I wanted it. I didn’t want any of it... I didn’t...”

The words catch in his throat, a nauseating twist of betrayal swirling in his stomach. He feels sick, sick that those alphas could twist his innocence, sick that Namjoon and Yoongi might believe their lies. The thought of them thinking he’d wanted that attention, that he’d wanted to be touched by those strangers, makes his chest tighten painfully.

Namjoon’s arms tighten around him, pulling him closer, as if to shield him from the world. His voice is steady, a soft promise that cuts through Jungkook’s panic.

“We know, pup. We know they lied,” Namjoon says, his tone firm and soothing all at once. “You’re not to blame for any of it. You didn’t ask for that. You didn’t want any of it.”

Yoongi’s voice comes next, low and full of that protective, quiet intensity that always makes Jungkook feel like he’s home.

“They’re the ones who are sick,” Yoongi adds, his gaze fierce, though it’s softened by the tenderness he’s trying to offer. “Don’t you dare believe a single word they said. You’re safe now, with us.”

Jungkook presses his face into Namjoon’s chest, trying to hold back more tears, but they come anyway. It’s not just the relief of being in his arms, it’s the validation, the certainty that he’s not the one at fault. That they see him, the real him, and that’s all that matters. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, thick with emotion. “I just... I didn’t want it. I didn’t want any of them.”

Namjoon brushes a hand through his hair, the touch warm and steady, as if grounding him.

“You don’t have to apologize, pup,” Namjoon says softly. “None of this is your fault. We’re here now, and we’ll always protect you. Always.”

Jungkook’s tears gradually slow, but the guilt still presses on his chest, heavy and suffocating. His thoughts swirl in a chaotic mess, a storm of confusion and self-blame he can’t seem to quiet. The words don’t seem to make sense, not when he feels like he should’ve listened to them—should’ve known better—but the heat of Namjoon’s hands and the safety of his hold help to pull him back from the edge of spiraling into his own shame.

Then, from behind, a softer touch, Yoongi’s presence is unmistakable, and Jungkook feels the gentleness of his fingers in his hair. Yoongi’s hand moves in slow, comforting strokes, pushing his hair back as he whispers, “You shouldn’t have had to go through that.” His voice is steady, but the warmth in it makes Jungkook feel seen, feel cared for. “We should’ve seen it. We should’ve stopped it earlier.”

Jungkook sniffles, his heart aching at the sincerity in Yoongi’s tone. “I just… I just thought I could handle it. I thought it would be okay,” he admits, the words feeling like lead in his mouth.

Yoongi shakes his head, his fingers still gentle as he wipes away his tears. “It’s not your fault, pup,” he murmurs, the softness of his voice grounding Jungkook in a way he can’t quite explain. “You didn’t deserve any of that.” Yoongi’s presence is a calm that washes over him, steady and unwavering. “Those alphas are the ones to blame, not you. They were the ones who were wrong.”

The weight of their words settles into Jungkook’s chest, and slowly, the tightness around his heart begins to loosen. He’s surrounded by their care, he’s not alone. Namjoon and Yoongi are here, standing by his side, and they’ll always be there to catch him when he falls.

Namjoon presses a soft kiss to the top of Jungkook’s head, his grip never wavering, and as he pulls him in even closer, it’s clear that this moment is theirs. “You’re safe now. We won't let anything happen to you ever again” he murmurs, his words laced with tenderness. “You’re safe with us.”

Jungkook nods, his tears stopping as he feels the warmth of their love and the steadiness of their care. He might not have listened to them before, but now, with their hands on him, their words wrapping around him like a blanket, he knows he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

The air is heavy with the aftershocks of the confrontation, but Namjoon and Yoongi are quiet as they start to lead Jungkook away from the stall, their hands holding onto his with a comforting strength that makes the world feel a little bit less overwhelming. Every step they take is steady, their grip reassuring, and Jungkook’s anxiety begins to ebb away, replaced by a quiet sense of security. He can feel their presence around him, a force that steadies his racing heart. He knows he's safe with them by his side.

But, Jungkook’s mind is still spinning, his thoughts swirling as he processes everything that happened. He’s grateful for the silence between them, the steady beat of their footsteps, and the feeling of being cared for. But there’s one thing that’s been lingering in the back of his mind—the words they’d used earlier.

He hesitates, feeling a flush rise to his cheeks. It’s a question that’s been gnawing at him since the moment he heard it, but it feels vulnerable to ask. But the curiosity, the need for clarity, pushes him forward. Finally, in a soft, almost shy voice, Jungkook speaks.

“Um… you said… you said I was your mate.” His voice falters slightly, but the words spill out all the same, his heart beating a little faster at the admission. “Why… why did you say that?”

Both Namjoon and Yoongi seem taken aback by the question, exchanging a glance before their eyes turn back to Jungkook. There’s a flicker of realization that passes between them, as if they hadn’t consciously thought about it before. The words had just slipped out, and now that Jungkook has brought them up, it makes them pause, considering their response.

Namjoon is the first to speak, his voice low and thoughtful, the warmth in it washing over Jungkook like a wave. “I… didn’t really think about it.” He looks down at Jungkook, his hand tightening ever so slightly around his. “It just felt right, you know? Like it was the truth, or at least like it was going to be the truth one day.”

Yoongi gives a quiet, almost unnoticeable nod. His fingers gently caress the back of Jungkook’s hand, the small gesture full of warmth. “It wasn’t something we planned to say,” Yoongi adds, his voice soft but filled with an undeniable sincerity. His gaze softens, meeting Jungkook’s eyes, and Jungkook feels like the whole world narrows down to just the two of them, to the sincerity in Yoongi’s words.

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat at their words, his entire chest tightening with a fluttering warmth. He hadn’t expected them to answer like that, with such certainty, with such raw honesty. The idea of being their mate, it’s so surreal.

A soft pink flush colors Jungkook’s cheeks, and he looks down, unable to keep the smile from curling at the corners of his lips. His heart is racing again, but this time it’s for a different reason. The idea of being their mate, of belonging to them in that way, makes his heart pound, like a drumbeat he can’t ignore.

“You really think that?” Jungkook asks quietly, his voice trembling slightly with a mix of awe and disbelief. It’s hard to believe, even though it feels so right. To hear them speak like that, to feel the certainty in their touch, makes his chest swell with something new, something delicate and fragile.

Namjoon steps closer, his hand gently resting on Jungkook’s back as they walk, his thumb brushing over the fabric of his shirt in a soothing pattern. “We do,” he says softly, his voice a quiet promise. 

Yoongi’s expression softens, his eyes flickering with the same intensity of care that Jungkook has come to recognize in both of them. “It’s the truth,” he says, voice steady, but his words are filled with warmth.

The air between them shifts, thick with the weight of their words and the affection they offer so openly. Jungkook feels his chest tighten with emotion, a rush of heat filling him at the thought of them seeing him as theirs.

Jungkook swallows hard, trying to keep his emotions in check as he glances up at them, his face flushed with warmth. “Thank you hyungs, for saving me” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. His hands tighten in their grasp, feeling the connection between them in every touch. 

Namjoon and Yoongi both smile, a shared look passing between them.

Jungkook’s fingers nervously twist the hem of his sleeve as he stands between Namjoon and Yoongi, his gaze flickering between them. The question lingers in the air, his voice soft, but uncertainty edging every word. "Are you sure you want to leave? You don’t have to leave because of me… I mean, the markets are still busy, and you’re getting what you need. You don’t have to change your plans for me, really."

Namjoon and Yoongi exchange a quick look, their expressions firm but not harsh. Namjoon’s eyes soften as he turns to Jungkook, his large hand coming to rest gently on his shoulder. "We’re finished here anyway," he says, his voice calm but firm. "But even if we weren’t, we’d still leave. What happened back there isn’t something we can just overlook. I don't want you staying here for even one more second." His tone carries a weight, one that signals how unacceptable the situation was.

Yoongi stands closer now, his eyes more focused, their intensity evident despite the calm expression on his face. "We’re not going to let that slide," he adds, his voice quiet but firm. "Not when it’s about you."

Jungkook pauses, his chest tightening at their words. He doesn’t want to cause trouble, especially for them. But something in their tone, the unshakable certainty in their words, makes his heart ache. He looks down, his thoughts swirling, tangled in feelings he’s not used to. It’s overwhelming, really—the sense of loyalty, of care.

He wants to shrink away from causing them more conflict, but at the same time, he can’t help but want their protection. After a beat of silence, he gathers his thoughts and speaks, his voice quieter than before. "They... thought I was an omega," he admits, his words barely above a whisper. "I didn’t tell them I was human because... I was scared they’d get even more curious. I didn’t know what they would do if they found out. I didn’t want to give them any more reason to... to..."

His voice trails off, the shame of it thick in his throat. He meets their eyes now, guilt swirling in his chest. How can he explain the fear that kept him silent, the terror of being seen as nothing more than an object? How can he explain the unease that settles in his bones when the world shifts under him, leaving him vulnerable?

Namjoon’s gaze softens, his expression full of quiet understanding. He steps closer, gently cupping Jungkook’s chin, lifting it so their eyes meet. His thumb brushes across Jungkook’s skin in a soothing motion. "You did the right thing," Namjoon says gently, his voice steady and strong. "There are people here who don’t have good intentions." His words are measured, careful, but the weight of them is undeniable. "Some packs still see omegas as property and also hate humans."

Yoongi’s voice is quieter, but just as serious. "Most people you’ll meet on shifter territory are good," he says, his tone calm yet filled with the experience of the world they live in. "They’ll respect you. They’ll treat you with care. But there are still those who come from old-fashioned packs. Packs where omegas are seen as little more than possessions, as tools for breeding or for satisfying the whims of alphas and betas."

Jungkook feels his breath catch in his chest. The realization hits him hard. That some alphas, some people, could see omegas—or anyone, for that matter—as property is a thought too dark to fully comprehend. He swallows, trying to keep his composure, but his heart pounds in his chest, his thoughts racing. This world, his understanding of it, feels so fragile, so delicate now.

"They... would they really treat omegas like that?" Jungkook asks, his voice trembling slightly as the weight of Yoongi’s words settles in. "Like they’re... nothing more than things?"

Namjoon nods, his expression tight with an edge of anger, but his voice remains calm. "Yes," he says simply, but the gravity in his words is clear. "But not everyone is like that. Most people here, most of the alphas, are not like that. But you need to be aware. There are some who’ll think harassing omegas is normal, who’ll think they can do whatever they want because that’s what they’ve been taught. And most people will assume that you're an omega, pup. Because of your scent."

Yoongi’s eyes are sharp now, his voice unwavering. "But don’t mistake their actions for the truth of how things are," he adds, his tone resolute, unyielding. "There are good people here, people who’ll treat you with respect. It's unfortunate, but that's the reality of things."

Then, Yoongi and Namjoon exchange a glance, their expressions softening with regret as they look at him. The tension in the air shifts, replaced by an overwhelming sense of responsibility and guilt.

"Pup," Yoongi begins, his voice quieter now, laced with sincerity. "We owe you an apology. We shouldn't have been so harsh with you earlier. I know we told you no when you asked to wander alone, and that was wrong of us. We didn't want to make you feel restricted, but… we were just cautious."

Namjoon steps forward, his gaze gentle but firm, his tone filled with the weight of his words. "We don't want to forbid you from doing anything. We don't want to take away your freedom. But this isn't our pack's territory, and while the markets are mostly safe, there are still too many unknowns. We just wanted to keep you safe, Kook-ah. That's all."

Yoongi's hand reaches out to lightly rest on Jungkook's head, his voice soft but heavy with meaning. "We should’ve handled it better. One of us should’ve come with you instead of just saying no. We made a mistake, and we're sorry."

Namjoon's eyes meet Jungkook’s, and there's a depth of understanding in them. "We’ll learn from this, pup. We’ll be better in the future. But right now, all we want is for you to feel safe and cared for."

Jungkook’s heart stirs at their words, the weight of their sincerity sinking in. He nods slowly, not quite sure how to respond but feeling the sincerity behind their apology.

The weight of their words presses down on Jungkook, and he feels the full impact of it—the cruelty some would bring, the kindness others could offer. His fingers grip the fabric of his sleeve as his chest tightens with emotion. The reality of it all sinks in, but despite the fear that gnaws at him, there’s something grounding in their presence, in the steady calm of Namjoon and Yoongi.

Jungkook swallows hard, taking a slow breath. "I trust you hyungs," he says quietly, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. His eyes meet Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s, and he allows himself to believe in their words.

Yoongi’s lips curve into the faintest of smiles, his gaze softening. "Good," he says simply, but the depth of his words is clear. "You’re not alone here."

Namjoon’s hand remains on his shoulder, a comforting weight, a promise that Jungkook is safe with them. "We’ll make sure you’re safe," Namjoon says firmly, his voice carrying the conviction of someone who will do anything to keep their word. "Always."

Jungkook takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of the conversation hang heavy in the air. He shifts slightly, still clinging to Namjoon, but his voice is steady when he speaks. “I’m sorry too, hyungs,” he starts quietly, his words full of sincerity. “I didn’t mean to react the way I did. I don’t even know what came over me.” He pauses, trying to gather his thoughts, not wanting to get this wrong.

“I wasn’t mad at you for telling me not to go off on my own to the picnic tables or the jewelry stall," Jungkook continues, his voice softer now. "I think I just… couldn’t process all the care and protection you two were showing me. I’ve always had to take care of myself, always had to look out for my own survival. So when you acted for me like that, it… it felt strange. It felt overwhelming."

He lowers his head slightly, guilt creeping into his chest. “Maybe without even realizing it, I was trying to test how far you’d go, seeing where the boundaries are. I don’t know, it’s like I wanted to see if you’d still care, still protect me, no matter what I did.”

Jungkook takes a shaky breath, his voice dropping even quieter. “I’m sorry for that. I shouldn’t have even stepped away in the first place. I regretted it the second I did it, and I should’ve just come back to you. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Namjoon’s hand tighten around his, and Yoongi’s gaze softens as he steps closer. Namjoon’s voice is calm but filled with understanding when he speaks. “Pup, we understand. It’s okay.” He gives him a gentle squeeze. “You don’t always have to have it all figured out. Testing boundaries is normal, especially when you’ve never had someone to truly take care of you before.” 

Yoongi steps forward, his hand resting on Jungkook’s back. “You don’t have to apologize. We know it wasn’t about us saying no, but about you figuring out how to navigate all of this. It’s normal to feel conflicted when you’re not used to being protected like this.”

“We’re not upset with you,” Namjoon adds, his tone reassuring. “We just want you to know we’re here, no matter what, and we’ll always be here for you, boundaries or not.”

Jungkook feels a sudden warmth in his chest, a sense of closeness. The weight of his thoughts presses against him, but it feels lighter now, easier to share. He knows, deep down, that this is important, that the alphas would want him to be open with them. The bond between them is shifting, and he realizes just how much trust he places in them.

Jungkook hesitates, his feet shuffling slightly as he lingers between Namjoon and Yoongi. He doesn't really want to talk about this, doesn't want to delve deeper into the memories he’s tried to bury since he arrived here. The experience at the trading markets, the way those alphas had looked at him, the tension in the air, it pulls him back to his village. It drags him into the past, to a time when the world felt like it was always ready to crush him. To a time when Sungil’s shadow hung over him, relentless and suffocating.

The safety he had felt here, in this new place, had started to wrap around him like a warm blanket. But now, standing in the open, a cold, terrifying reality has settled in his chest. He’s reminded that the world can hurt him anywhere. That even here, even with these people, his pack, he isn’t immune to the dangers lurking beyond the surface. The fear that had once dominated his life is now clawing at him from the inside, raw and desperate. It’s terrifying, in a way he can’t quite put into words.

He inhales sharply, his throat tight, but the words spill out before he can stop them. "That... that reminded me of the past," he says quietly, the weight of it almost suffocating as the words tumble from his lips. "Back in my village… with Sungil…" He trails off, unable to finish, as if saying it out loud will somehow make it more real.

Namjoon and Yoongi stop walking, their pace slowing until they’re standing still. They both turn to look at him, their expressions soft, filled with care and an understanding that makes Jungkook’s chest tighten further. He doesn’t want to burden them with this, he doesn’t want to explain how that moment at the market had broken through all the progress he thought he’d made. How he thought he was safe here. But instead, his body had frozen with fear, just like it had all those times before.

Jungkook clenches his hands into fists at his sides, trying to steady his breathing. "I... I hate feeling like that," he admits, his voice trembling slightly as he speaks the words aloud. "I hate feeling vulnerable in that way. Like I’m just... nothing." His voice cracks, but he pushes through it. "I couldn’t move. I didn’t say anything to stop them. I didn’t tell them to stop, I mean, maybe I did, but it wasn’t strong enough. And... and I don’t know if they would have stopped anyway, just like with Sungil."

The words taste bitter in his mouth, guilt flooding him as he admits what he hates most. His own weakness, his inability to act, to protect himself. The shame of freezing in that moment, the shame of not being strong enough, not loud enough.

Namjoon’s voice cuts through the silence, soft but firm. "Jungkook-ah," he says gently, but there’s a quiet strength behind his words. "Nothing was your fault." His eyes are steady, unwavering as he watches him, a quiet understanding in the way he stands there. "You didn’t fail anyone. You didn’t freeze because you’re weak, you froze because you were scared. And that’s okay."

Yoongi steps closer, his usual aloofness softened by the tenderness in his gaze. "You don’t owe anyone anything, especially not those alphas," he adds, his voice low but full of conviction. "They are the ones who acted wrong, not you. You didn’t make them do what they did. They made a choice to treat you like that, and that has nothing to do with you."

Jungkook feels the warmth of their words slowly starting to break through the cold that’s settled in his chest. It doesn’t completely erase the guilt, but it softens it. He’s always been so used to blaming himself for everything, especially when it came to moments of weakness. But their voices are like anchors, steadying him when he feels like he might drown in his own insecurities.

"You’re allowed to be scared," Namjoon continues, his hand reaching out, resting gently on Jungkook’s shoulder. "You don’t have to apologize for it. You don’t have to apologize for not acting, for not being able to fight back in that moment. Fear makes us freeze sometimes. And that’s normal." His voice is thick with emotion now, but it doesn’t falter. "There’s nothing wrong with you for being afraid. And we’ll make sure no one else ever makes you feel that way again."

Jungkook’s eyes well up, his heart hammering in his chest as the weight of their words settles in. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear this, how much he needed them to say it, to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that he wasn’t weak, that he didn’t have to be perfect. Their words are like a balm to the wounds he’s carried for so long, soothing the pain of a past that’s never really let go of him.

Yoongi steps forward then, placing a hand on his cheek, the two alphas standing on either side of him like a wall of comfort. "You’re safe now," Yoongi says quietly, his voice thick with reassurance. "And no matter what happens, you’re not alone. Not with us."

Jungkook nods slowly, his throat tight as he swallows the lump of emotion threatening to choke him. He doesn’t know how to respond, but the warmth of their presence, the security of their words, starts to chip away at the icy grip of fear and guilt that’s held him in place for so long. He allows himself to breathe, to feel the weight of their promise to protect him.

And it’s then that Jungkook realizes something. Maybe he doesn’t have to be strong all the time. Maybe he doesn’t have to carry everything by himself. Not anymore. He’s not alone anymore.

Jungkook meets their eyes, his own filled with a mixture of gratitude and quiet relief. "Thank you hyungs," he whispers, the words simple but full of meaning. "I… I really needed to hear that."

Namjoon and Yoongi smile softly, and Namjoon gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "We’ve got you, Pup," he says, his voice steady with conviction. "Always."

Jungkook’s voice trembles as he speaks again, the weight of his fears too heavy to carry alone any longer. His hands tremble slightly at his sides, the memories of Sungil clawing at him with a viciousness that never truly fades. He shudders, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill, but the fear is too strong, too real, too suffocating.

"What if he finds me?" Jungkook whispers, his voice barely audible, but the terror in it is impossible to ignore. He looks at Namjoon and Yoongi, his eyes wide and filled with something raw, something that's been eating at him ever since he arrived. "Sungil... he was obsessive. He wouldn't let me go. If I hadn’t left that day, I would've never gotten out. I would've been trapped with him forever."

The words feel heavy, each one like a weight on his chest. He feels the panic creeping up his throat again, the suffocating feeling of being hunted, of knowing that at any moment, Sungil could come barreling back into his life and rip away everything he’s finally starting to rebuild. His hands curl into fists, nails biting into his palms, trying to ground himself.

The panic is rising, almost too much to handle. "I’m scared hyungs," he continues, his voice shaking. "I’m scared that he’s going to find me again. That he’ll bring me back. I can’t go through that again. I can’t. I’d rather die than go through that again."

Jungkook feels the words hang in the air between them, heavy and suffocating, like a punch to the gut. There’s a thick, deafening silence after he speaks, the weight of what he’s just admitted settling in around them. The thought of losing his hyungs forever sends a ripple of fear through his chest.

Namjoon and Yoongi instinctively step closer, their presence grounding him, offering silent comfort. They don’t say anything right away, though. They just stand there, absorbing the rawness of his fear, and Jungkook can feel the struggle within them, knowing they’re wrestling with the pain he’s been hiding for so long.

Jungkook feels his heart sink as he sees the worry in Namjoon's eyes, his words hanging heavy in the air. He doesn’t want to be a burden, doesn’t want to see the concern in his hyung’s gaze, but it's there, clear as day. He wishes he could hide it, wish he could push back the fear gnawing at him, but it’s impossible. It’s suffocating, and even more so when Namjoon’s face falls, his brows furrowing in distress.

"Kook-ah," Namjoon says, his voice thick but firm. "Never... never say that again." His words are heavy, layered with the kind of emotion that doesn’t come easily. "We can’t... we can’t bear to hear you talk like that. Please. Don’t ever say you’d rather die. Don’t ever say that again."

Yoongi is beside him, his usual calm demeanor replaced by something fierce, protective. His eyes are darker now, hardening with resolve. "Joon’s right," Yoongi adds, his voice quieter, but still sharp. "Don’t say that, Pup. We need you here. We can’t lose you. Not like that. You’re... you’re important to us. You mean so much to us." His words, though brief, are laced with an intensity that shows just how much his pain affects them.

Jungkook swallows hard, the lump in his throat thick, and for a moment, he feels almost suffocated by the care in their voices. But there’s still a tremor in his hands, and he’s not sure how to let go of the fear. He’s scared. He’s terrified. The thought of Sungil finding him again, dragging him back to that prison, makes him feel like he’s drowning.

Namjoon places a strong hand on his shoulder, his touch grounding. "Jungkook-ah," he says again, his voice more certain this time, more commanding. "We’ve already taken steps. Ever since you told us what happened when you first came to the pack, we’ve made sure to reinforce our surveillance. We’re watching over you, every step of the way. We’ve made sure that nothing can happen to you. Sungil won’t find you here. We will make sure of it. You’re safe now. And we will protect you."

Yoongi nods, his expression fierce, unyielding. "We will keep him away from you. No one is taking you back to that place. Not him, not anyone. We will make sure he never finds you again. You’re not alone in this anymore."

The strength in their words is a lifeline, something solid that Jungkook can hold on to. He can feel their promises weaving around him, a protective net, and a small, fragile thread of relief unwinds in his chest. He wants to believe them. He wants to feel safe, to feel like he can truly let his guard down.

But the fear still lingers, like a shadow that won’t leave him. It’s so hard to shake off, even with their words, even with their protection. He swallows, still feeling the weight of the past pressing down on him. "I want to believe you," he says quietly, his voice rough. "But it’s hard. I don’t know how to stop being scared."

Namjoon gives him a tight, reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "You don’t have to stop being scared. You just need to know that we’re here. And we’ll keep you safe, Kook-ah. Always."

Yoongi’s gaze softens, the fierceness in his eyes fading, replaced by the quiet, unwavering certainty that Jungkook needs. "You don’t have to do this alone. We’re your pack. We're your hyungs. We’ll protect you. You’re safe here, with us."

Jungkook nods, his throat still tight but a sense of something warmer begins to seep through the cracks of his fear. It’s not easy to let go, not easy to stop being afraid. But he starts to believe, if only a little, that he can let himself believe in their promise. And in the safety they’ve offered him.

Jungkook's voice trembles as he speaks again, the fear inside him refusing to be quieted. "I'm scared that..." he starts softly, looking up at Namjoon and Yoongi, his heart heavy. "That if Sungil finds me... I’m afraid he’ll hurt you too. He said it in my dream the other night… that he would hurt anyone who tried to keep me from him. And… I don’t want you to get hurt because of me."

The thought of Sungil coming after anyone in his pack, anyone who’s shown him kindness, makes Jungkook’s stomach churn. He can’t bear the idea of them suffering, can’t bear the thought of the people he’s grown to trust being caught in the crossfire of his past. His gaze lowers, his chest tight with the weight of what he’s said, but the fear in his eyes is undeniable.

Namjoon’s expression darkens as the words sink in, but his voice remains calm, firm, like a rock amidst the storm of Jungkook’s worries. "Jungkook-ah," he says, his voice low but filled with certainty, "Listen to me. What matters right now is you. Not any of us. Not what might happen."

He reaches out and gently cups Jungkook’s face, lifting his gaze to meet his. "We will not let anything happen to you. Ever again. And that includes us. We won’t let him hurt us either. We won’t let anyone touch you. Not while we’re here."

Yoongi steps in, his words just as strong, but with a softness that makes Jungkook’s heart ache. "He's right," he says, his gaze never leaving Jungkook. "Don’t even think about us getting hurt. We’ll protect you with everything we have, and if it means keeping you safe from Sungil, then that’s exactly what we’re going to do. We’ll never let him harm you again."

Jungkook feels the weight of their words settle over him like a blanket, their promises weaving into his heart, easing the tightness in his chest just a little. Their care, their protectiveness—he can feel it in the very air around them, like a shield that wraps around him.

His shoulders relax, and for the first time since they spoke about Sungil, he doesn’t feel quite so alone in his fear. He still carries the weight of his past with him, but he also feels the steady reassurance of their presence, their protection.

"Thank you hyungs," Jungkook whispers, his voice small but filled with gratitude. The fear doesn’t vanish, not entirely, but he knows now that he doesn’t have to face it alone. With them by his side, it feels a little less suffocating, a little more bearable.

After that, the three of them start walking in silence, the weight of the conversation hanging between them like a silent understanding.

It’s as if the gravity of everything, the fear, the danger, the responsibility of protecting him, has finally sunk in for all of them, and they all need a moment to process.

The soft crunch of their footsteps in the snow is the only sound as they make their way home.

Each of them lost in their thoughts, the world outside feeling quieter somehow.

Notes:

Hey!!

Sorry for the delay, guys! I’ve been super busy and just couldn’t find the time to update sooner 😅. This week’s gonna be a bit busy, so I apologize in advance if I go quiet for a few days! 😬

And... well, more angst. Not like anyone’s surprised, right? (Definitely not me 😅). But you know what that means, protective hyungs and some fluffy moments to balance it out. Honestly, Namjoon and Yoongi getting all angry on Jungkook’s behalf? It's doing something to me. I don’t even like anger, but "justified anger"? Chef’s kiss 👌.

Poor Jungkook can’t catch a break though 😔. But I’m really glad he’s starting to open up about his fears, like the idea that Sungil might be looking for him. The hyungs need to know these things, even if it hurts.

And those four alphas?? 😡 They make me SO mad. It’s not just that they’re awful people, it’s the fact that people like them actually exist in the real world. That’s what makes it so frustrating.

Also, can we talk about Jungkook mentally calling Namjoon and Yoongi "his" alphas? 😳 Haha, I’m living for it.

On a personal note, am I the only one who gets super down on the first day of my period? Woke up feeling all kinds of miserable, only to realize I started my period, and suddenly everything made sense 😂 Sigh.

Anyway, see you all soon! Sorry again if it takes me a bit longer to update! 💖

Chapter 44: Moonlit Dream

Summary:

Just Jungkook and Hoseok being cute

As they finally reach the pack house, Jungkook immediately notices how empty it feels without the others. The silence, the absence of familiar voices and laughter he has grown so accustomed to, settles over him like a weight, pressing down for a moment.

He hesitates at the door, his exhaustion catching up to him now that the immediate fear has subsided. He looks over at Namjoon and Yoongi, a soft vulnerability in his eyes.

"Hyungs... Do you think… I could maybe take a nap on the couch?" Jungkook asks quietly, his voice tinged with hesitation, unsure whether it’s okay to ask for something so simple, so normal. He doesn’t want to impose, but the weariness from the day is catching up to him, his body craving rest after everything.

Namjoon and Yoongi exchange a brief look, their expressions softening immediately. It’s Yoongi who responds first, his voice light, almost teasing, but there’s a warmth in it that makes Jungkook’s heart flutter just a little.

"You don’t ever have to ask, Jungkook-ah," Yoongi coos, his tone affectionate. "You’re home here. Rest as much as you need. We’re here if you need us, always."

Namjoon chuckles softly, his hand resting on Jungkook’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. "Yeah, you’ve been through a lot today. Take all the time you need to rest. We’ll be here when you wake up."

Jungkook’s lips quirk into a small, tired smile, and he nods, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders at their words. The tension in his body slowly melts away as he walks inside, the warmth of the house greeting him like an embrace. As he heads to the room, he feels an odd sense of peace, knowing that no matter what comes next, the alphas are here with him.

He sinks into the couch, the soft fabric underneath him doing little to ease the tightness in his chest. His mind races with memories, the rough hands of those alphas, the way they’d treated him. His thoughts swirl, replaying every moment, every word, until it all becomes a jumble in his mind. He feels exhausted, not just from the stress, but from the overwhelming flood of emotions, fear, guilt, anger, and a deep-rooted sense of vulnerability he’s been trying to avoid.

He had been looking forward to spending time with Namjoon and Yoongi, enjoying the small moments of peace. But now, it feels like the world has shifted again, and the unease has settled deep in his bones. He wants to forget, to push it all away, but it keeps creeping back into his mind. He clenches his fists at his sides, his body too tired to fight the thoughts.

Finally, he closes his eyes, hoping the quiet of the room will bring him some comfort. But just as his thoughts begin to slow, he feels a soft weight settle over him. At first, he thinks it's just his imagination. But when the fabric grazes his skin, warm and real, he opens his eyes to find Yoongi crouched beside him, gently draping a soft blanket over him, one that carries the comforting scent of all of them.

The alpha’s eyes are soft, his gaze gentle but full of a quiet intensity that takes Jungkook by surprise. Yoongi doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at him silently. And then, with the kind of tenderness Jungkook has never been able to fully understand, Yoongi reaches out and gently caresses his hair.

"I'm so sorry, pup. For everything that happened today." Yoongi’s voice is low, thick with guilt, but beneath it is something fierce, unwavering protectiveness. "They were wrong for what they did. They had no right to treat you like that. And we... I should have protected you. I should have been there." His fingers twitch as if holding back the urge to pull him close, to shield him even now. "But I swear to you, Jungkook-ah, I'll make this right. I won’t let anyone hurt you again. As long as you're with me, no one will ever lay a hand on you again."

Jungkook’s heart clenches at the words. It’s more than just a promise of safety, it’s Yoongi laying himself bare, raw and unguarded, and it feels deeply, achingly intimate. He wants to protest, to tell the alpha it’s alright, that it was his fault anyway. But the words won’t come, tangled somewhere in his throat.  

With Yoongi’s hand threading gently through his hair, his deep, steady scent wrapping around him, and the solid warmth of his presence, Jungkook feels his body start to surrender, his eyes growing heavy once more. Because he knows Yoongi means it. He’s safe, and every part of him, down to his very bones, seems to know it too.

Yoongi’s fingers thread through his hair once more in a soft, soothing motion, before he leans down slightly, his breath warm against Jungkook’s ear. “Rest for now,” Yoongi says, the words gentle but firm, as if they’re a command wrapped in the warmth of affection. “You don’t need to think about anything else right now.”

The alpha presses a gentle kiss to his hair, his touch lingering with unspoken promise. “We’ll be here when you wake up,” he murmurs, his voice a quiet vow. Then, with careful hands, he tucks the blanket snugly around him, ensuring every edge is just right, secure, warm, safe.

Jungkook feels his eyes flutter shut at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, the weight of his words settling into his mind like a balm. The exhaustion, the overwhelming emotions, the weight of everything, it all fades just a little.

"Thank you, hyung," Jungkook whispers, his voice barely more than a breath. His eyes sting with unshed tears, overwhelmed by the sheer warmth and care he's been shown since arriving here. Overwhelmed by Yoongi.

The difference in how the alpha treats him now is stark, no longer guarded, no longer keeping him at a distance. Instead, Yoongi touches him with quiet affection, like Jungkook is someone worth protecting, someone he cares for. And Jungkook wants to believe it’s true. Because he does care about Yoongi.

A whole lot.

Now, with the alpha's touch grounding him, his presence wrapped around him like a shield, Jungkook wants nothing more than to stay awake. To soak in this moment, to stay close to him just a little longer. But exhaustion tugs at him, heavy and unrelenting, stripping away the walls he usually keeps so carefully in place.

It’s such a simple thing, Yoongi’s gentle touch, his quiet words, but to Jungkook, it means everything.

Within moments, his breathing slows, the warmth of the blanket wrapping around him and the steady presence of the alpha beside him easing him into a peaceful sleep.

 

--

 

One moment, Jungkook is sinking into the warmth of the couch, and the next, he’s standing in the middle of a forest, silent and endless. He doesn’t remember how he got here. He doesn’t remember anything at all.

The trees around him stretch impossibly high, their dark silhouettes swaying gently, whispering secrets in the hush of the wind. The ground is soft beneath his bare feet, cool but not unwelcoming. The air hums with something unseen, something that makes his skin prickle. There’s no fear, only an odd sense of familiarity, like he’s been here before in another life, another time.

Then he feels it.

A pull. A silent, invisible thread curling around his ribs, urging him forward. It isn't forceful, but it's insistent, like a melody he can’t ignore. Without thinking, he follows. The forest parts for him, the path unfolding as if it had been waiting all along.

Eventually, he steps into a clearing bathed in silver light. The sky is vast above him, the stars sharper than he’s ever seen them. But it’s the moon that steals his breath. It hangs impossibly large in the sky, a luminous eye watching over the world. The light spills across the clearing, turning everything to silver and shadow.

And in the center of it stands a woman.

She's draped in white, her long robes flowing as if caught in a breeze Jungkook cannot feel. Her hair is just as pale, cascading like silk down her back, and she moves with an effortless grace. She's singing, at least, Jungkook thinks she is. Her head tilts, but the sound doesn’t reach him. It’s as if the song exists just beyond his understanding, slipping through his fingers like smoke.

He steps closer, drawn in without hesitation. As soon as he does, the woman stills.

She doesn’t turn, doesn’t acknowledge him the way a person should. Yet, somehow, he knows she sees him.

Her voice is quiet, but it cuts through the air like a blade.

“You’ve finally arrived.”

Jungkook’s throat tightens. He isn’t sure what she means, but something about her words unsettles him. He feels both known and unknown in her presence, as though she sees through him to something even he doesn’t understand.

She tilts her head slightly, her gaze fixed on the moon.

“Be careful.”

Jungkook blinks. "Careful of what?" His voice sounds smaller than usual, fragile in the vast stillness of the clearing.

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she raises a hand, fingers brushing the air. The moment feels weighted, as if the world itself is waiting.

“Trust your instincts.”

A pause.

Then, finally, she moves. Slowly, she begins to walk away, her form fading into the moonlight like she was never really there to begin with.

Panic rises in Jungkook’s chest. He takes a step forward, reaching out. "Wait—!"

The moment his voice breaks the silence, the dream shatters.

 

--

 

Jungkook jolts awake.

He sits up suddenly, his body jerking awake as his heart pounds in his chest, still rattled by the dream that lingers like a shadow on his mind. His breathing is shallow for a moment, and his skin feels like it’s still tingling from the remnants of it.

What a strange dream.

He never really dreams, not in the way other people do at least. His sleep is either plagued by nightmares, vivid, terrifying fragments of his past, or it’s empty, a blank space where he knows he was asleep but can never recall what, if anything, he dreamt. The few times he does have dreams, they are fleeting, nothing more than whispers of feelings that vanish the moment he wakes.

But this... This dream is different. It doesn’t feel like a mere fantasy. He remembers every detail, the forest, the moon that loomed impossibly large in the sky, the woman in the white robes, her voice haunting yet soothing in its cryptic lyrics. It felt real, like he had actually been there, walking toward her.

Like it had actually happened.

Who was she? Jungkook asks himself, his mind working furiously to make sense of her cryptic words. He had tried to grasp the meaning of her message, but it slipped through his fingers like sand.

"Trust your instincts," she'd told him. What did that even mean? Was she a figment of his imagination? Or was there something more to it? His pulse quickens again as doubt starts to creep in, the words of the dream echoing in his mind.

"Be careful"

He can’t shake the feeling that the dream holds some kind of importance, that it’s somehow tied to what’s been happening to him since he arrived in this strange, new world.

But before he can linger on his thoughts for too long, Jungkook finally looks around, trying to ground himself in the present. He’s not in the forest anymore. The weight of the dream is still heavy, but it starts to fade as he focuses on the soft light filtering through the room. His eyes catch sight of Hoseok, sitting beside him on the couch, his legs pulled up in a comfortable position.

The beta is engrossed in a book, his expression relaxed as he flips through the pages. The title is turned just out of Jungkook’s view, though he strains to catch a glimpse of it. His gaze drifts to the Hoseok’s face instead, watching the way his lips part slightly as he reads, eyes narrowing in concentration, so focused that he doesn’t notice him right away.

But then, as if he can feel the shift in the air, Hoseok looks up. His bright eyes immediately lock onto Jungkook’s, and a soft, melodic giggle escapes his lips.

“You have the imprint of the cushion on your cheek,” Hoseok teases, the words light and playful, his tone soft as if he’s savoring the moment. “It’s really cute.”

Jungkook blinks, his fingers subconsciously touching his cheek where the fabric of the couch cushion left its mark. He can’t help but huff a soft laugh, the familiar warmth of Hoseok’s teasing pulling him back from the unsettling dream. It’s so different from the forest, from the eerie silence of the moonlit clearing. Here, everything is tangible, Hoseok’s gentle laughter, the soft fabric beneath him, the comforting hum of the room.

But the moment doesn’t last long. Hoseok tilts his head, his smile softening as he watches him closely. There’s a flicker of concern in his eyes. “Did you sleep well?” he asks, his voice quiet but caring.

Jungkook pauses for a moment, unsure how to answer. His heart still feels heavy with the weight of the dream, the woman’s voice still echoing in his mind, her cryptic words a puzzle he can’t seem to solve. But he doesn’t want to worry his hyung, doesn’t want to bring the strange feelings from the dream into the quiet comfort of the room. So he nods, offering a small, reassuring smile. “Yes hyung, I did.”

But Jungkook knows Hoseok isn’t fooled. He feels the way his gaze lingers on him, senses the subtle shift in his demeanor. Hoseok must notice the distance in his eyes, the way his thoughts have pulled him somewhere else. He leans in slightly, his usual bright smile softening into something more concerned. “Why the long face then, sweetie?” he asks, his voice gentle, filled with that familiar warmth that always makes Jungkook feel like he’s being wrapped in something safe.

Jungkook hesitates for a moment. His fingers curl around the edge of the blanket, his thoughts swirling as he tries to process the dream. It feels too personal to share for some reason, but he can’t shake the feeling that Hoseok might understand, might help him make sense of it.

“It’s nothing, just…” Jungkook begins, his voice quieter now, laced with uncertainty. “I just had a strange dream.”

Hoseok’s brow furrows slightly, and he tilts his head as if trying to gauge whether he's really okay. “Strange how?” he asks, his tone coaxing, but not pushing. He’s giving Jungkook space to explain in his own time, but there’s a softness to his words that tells Jungkook that the beta will be there for him if he decides to share.

Jungkook swallows, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know… It was just… different. It felt real.” His fingers tug at the blanket, the fabric twisting between his hands as he tries to push away the lingering unease. “There was a woman... She was in the forest, and she said some weird things. I don’t really know what it meant, but it felt important.”

He pauses, biting his lip as he considers whether to say more, but something in the back of his mind tells him to stop, to leave the rest unsaid. He can’t fully explain the intensity of it all, the way the dream felt like a message he was too afraid to understand.

Hoseok’s expression softens even more, his eyes full of understanding, as if he knows exactly how it feels to be haunted by something you can’t quite grasp. He doesn’t press him for more, but his presence is calming, grounding. “It’s okay, Kookie,” he says gently, reaching out to brush a hand over Jungkook’s hair. "You're safe here. No matter what this dream means, it doesn't change anything. Some dreams just feel real, that’s all I guess."

With Hoseok’s gentle reassurance, the weight of the dream lifts, just a little, easing under the warmth of his touch.

Jungkook feels a sudden, overwhelming urge to feel Hoseok's reassurance, not just hear it. The words are comforting, yes, but the dream from earlier, those weird, unsettling words, still cling to him, refusing to fade away. He hears the strange woman’s voice echoing in his mind, her mysterious instructions to "trust his instincts." As if it wasn’t enough that his dream had been so vivid and full of significance, now the need to act on it fills him in a way he can’t quite explain.

Maybe it’s foolish, or maybe it’s the only way he can quiet the storm swirling in his chest.

Even if it had just been a dream, there’s a strange certainty that builds in him, a pull that he can't ignore. It’s like something deep inside him is telling him to trust what his body needs, to lean into the reassurance that Hoseok had so effortlessly offered, not through words but through his presence. If he’s to follow his instincts, this is what he needs. A moment to feel safe, to feel grounded. And right now, there’s only one person he wants to give him that.

Without fully thinking about it, Jungkook discards the blanket that had been draped over him, letting it fall to the side as he shifts closer to Hoseok. The motion is subtle but determined, as if he can’t stay apart any longer. His heart pounds slightly, but he pushes the anxiety aside, focusing only on the pull toward the beta.

He hesitates for a moment, though, uncertainty flickering in his eyes as he glances at Hoseok, looking for some kind of reassurance. But Hoseok doesn’t say a word. Instead, he looks at him with a quiet patience, as if he’s waiting for Jungkook to make the first move. His expression is soft, unhurried, giving him the space to do what he needs without the pressure of expectation.

It’s almost as if Hoseok knows exactly what he's feeling, and he’s not going to rush him. The silence stretches between them for a heartbeat, then two. The weight of the moment is palpable, but Jungkook doesn’t feel scared anymore. There’s something about Hoseok's quiet acceptance, his calm presence, that makes it easy for him to take that final step.

Jungkook’s hands lift, almost instinctively, and without hesitation, he wraps them around Hoseok’s neck, pulling himself closer, folding his body into the warmth of the beta’s chest. The motion is simple but filled with a deep need, an unspoken request for comfort. His breath catches for a moment when he feels Hoseok’s arms instantly wrap around him, secure and steady.

It’s as though everything in the world pauses in that moment. The quiet of the room, the soft rustling of the trees outside, and the rhythmic pulse of Hoseok’s heartbeat. Jungkook sinks into the embrace, letting the softness of it wash over him.

Hoseok doesn’t tease or joke this time, his usual playful demeanor set aside. Instead, he tightens his hold around his waist, gently pulling him closer as if to tell him without words that he’s safe here. That whatever fear or uncertainty Jungkook had felt is no longer a concern. He presses his cheek against the top of Jungkook’s head, the warmth of his touch steady and comforting, his fingers splaying against the small of his back as he caresses him softly.

“Do you need some comfort, pup?” Hoseok’s voice is low, steady, his words a soft inquiry meant to offer reassurance, not to push. He’s not trying to fix Jungkook’s fears or dismiss them. Instead, he’s simply here, here to help, here to offer whatever Jungkook needs.

Jungkook’s response is immediate, a soft breath escaping him as he nods, his body leaning further into Hoseok’s embrace, feeling the tension in his chest begin to melt away. “Yes,” he whispers, his voice small, almost fragile in the quiet of the room.

Without hesitation, Hoseok pulls him even closer, his hands moving in gentle strokes over Jungkook’s back, offering comfort in the form of touch. He doesn’t rush or push, just holds him. And in that embrace, in the steady presence of Hoseok’s warmth, Jungkook feels a sense of peace that has eluded him since that strange dream. The unsettling feeling begins to fade, replaced by something soft and comforting, something that grounds him in the here and now.

They stay like that for a while, just holding each other in the quiet, neither of them needing to say anything. The world outside seems distant, irrelevant. It’s just them, the steady rhythm of their breathing, and the quiet reassurance that passes between them. Jungkook’s thoughts begin to settle, and the storm that had raged in his chest starts to calm.

Finally, Hoseok pulls back just slightly, not enough to break the contact but enough to look at Jungkook’s face, his expression gentle and understanding. He keeps his arms around him, his presence unwavering. Jungkook looks up at him, his eyes soft, grateful, and filled with a quiet kind of relief. He doesn’t need to say anything. 

“Thank you, hyung.” Jungkook whispers, his voice barely more than a breath. Hoseok’s smile is soft, tender.

“There’s no need to thank me, Kookie,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "I'll gladly hug you anytime you want. Actually, please hug me whenever you feel like it. I mean it."

Hoseok is looking at him with so much love, a softness in his gaze that makes Jungkook’s heart swell with gratitude. It's a warmth that radiates from his very presence, filling Jungkook with a sense of belonging, of being wanted, of being cherished. In this quiet moment, as he sits there in Hoseok’s arms, everything feels right. There is no fear, no lingering uncertainty, just the comforting, steady rhythm of Hoseok’s breathing and the quiet bond between them.

Jungkook feels an overwhelming sense of gratitude, not just for the protection and reassurance Hoseok has given him, but for the deep sense of peace that seems to settle over him when he's near him. He feels so thankful to be a part of this pack, to be here with Hoseok, to be his in this moment.

The closeness of their bodies, the steady warmth between them, stirs something deep inside of him. His heart skips a beat as he gathers his courage. There’s a quiet voice in his mind urging him on, telling him to act, to follow what his heart wants.

And so, without thinking too much about it, he leans in, tilting his head slightly as he presses a soft, tentative kiss to Hoseok’s lips. It’s quick, gentle, almost shy, but it’s enough to make Jungkook’s heart race in his chest. He pulls away just as quickly, his breath catching in his throat, unsure of what to expect.

Hoseok’s reaction is immediate, a surprised sound escaping him, one that’s somewhere between a gasp and a soft chuckle. He blinks, his eyes wide and stunned, clearly not having anticipated the kiss. Jungkook watches, his own heart pounding in his chest, as Hoseok’s cheeks slowly begin to turn a deep shade of red. The sight of Hoseok’s flustered expression, his soft smile, the warmth creeping up his face, makes Jungkook’s chest tighten with something indescribable.

It’s a mix of elation and excitement, a sweet fluttering that spreads through his entire body.

He knows, of course, that Hoseok likes him, the beta had already claimed him, after all. But seeing it so plainly, written in the way Hoseok reacts to him, sends his heart racing in a way he hadn’t expected. It makes him feel almost powerful. Because even with all the proof of Hoseok’s attraction, it still feels surreal to believe that someone as radiant, as incredible as him could truly want Jungkook in return.

And yet, as he meets Hoseok’s gaze now, there’s no denying it. The certainty in those eyes, warm and unwavering, makes his heart flutter.

The tenderness in his hyung's eyes as he looks at him only intensifies the feeling in his chest.

He wants to kiss him again.

A real kiss this time, one that lingers, one that shows how much he feels for him. But the uncertainty creeps back in, how does he ask for it? What if Hoseok thinks he's too needy? What if he’s pushing too hard? The thought makes his words stumble in his throat, and Jungkook’s face flushes in embarrassment.

He stutters, his voice barely above a whisper, "Hyung… can we… can we maybe kiss again?" His voice cracks slightly, and he cringes inwardly, his stomach tightening with nervousness.

Hoseok doesn’t immediately respond with words, but the way his gaze softens tells Jungkook everything he needs to know. His eyes are full of warmth, tenderness, and something deeper that Jungkook can’t quite name. Without saying a word, Hoseok reaches out, his hands firm but gentle as they slide tighter around his waist.

He pulls him closer, guiding him slowly until Jungkook finds himself in Hoseok’s lap, their bodies flush against one another. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat at the sudden proximity, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

Hoseok’s grip on his waist tightens just enough to steady him, his hands soft but sure. He doesn’t need to say anything, doesn’t need to give any verbal affirmation. His actions speak louder than words ever could. The way he looks at him, the way his hands hold him close, tells Jungkook everything.

Hoseok is here. He wants this too.

Jungkook’s pulse quickens as he sits on Hoseok’s lap, feeling the heat of his hyung's body against his own. His mind spins, his thoughts whirling with excitement and anticipation. And yet, even in the midst of all the emotions rushing through him, there’s a sense of calm that settles over him as he looks into Hoseok’s eyes. In this moment, there is no doubt. There’s nothing but the trust they’ve built, the bond that’s growing stronger between them, and the quiet yearning in both of their hearts.

Slowly, Jungkook leans in again, his lips brushing over Hoseok’s in a tentative kiss. But this time, Hoseok doesn’t hesitate. With a quiet hum, he cups the back of Jungkook’s neck, fingers threading into his hair as he pulls him in deeper, tilting his head to claim the kiss with more intensity. It’s no longer just soft and uncertain, this time, Hoseok takes control, guiding Jungkook effortlessly, as if he’s been waiting for this moment just as much.

A quiet gasp escapes Jungkook when Hoseok’s lips move against his with purpose, coaxing him open, deepening the kiss until it’s all-consuming. The warmth of Hoseok’s body presses firmly against his, one hand sliding down to grip his waist, holding him close, making sure there’s no space left between them. Jungkook melts into the touch, his hands clutching weakly at Hoseok’s shoulders, overwhelmed and completely breathless.

The world around them disappears. There’s nothing but the heat between them, the way Hoseok’s lips move against his like he’s memorizing him, like he needs him. Jungkook feels himself surrender, his body going pliant under Hoseok’s touch, his heart pounding so hard it drowns out everything else.

When they finally break apart, Jungkook is gasping, his lips tingling, his mind spinning. Hoseok doesn’t move far, his breath is warm against Jungkook’s skin, his fingers still firm on his waist. Then, with a smirk that’s both affectionate and teasing, Hoseok leans in once more, pressing a slow, lingering peck to Jungkook’s already kiss-swollen lips.

“See?” Hoseok murmurs against his mouth, his voice low and full of something heady, something possessive. “You can ask me to kiss you whenever you want, pup. I’ll never say no.”

"Thank you for the kiss, Kookie," Hoseok adds, the words barely a breath between them. His voice is soft, warm, and it makes Jungkook’s heart flutter in his chest. But before he can even process the feeling, Hoseok’s smile widens, and he looks over Jungkook’s shoulder.

"Though, I think we have some onlookers," Hoseok says with a light chuckle, his fingers still gently gripping Jungkook’s waist, as if making sure he stays grounded in the moment. Jungkook turns his head, following Hoseok’s gaze, and his face immediately flushes at the sight.

Jimin and Taehyung are standing nearby, their cheeks tinged with a soft pink hue, and their expressions are a mix of curiosity and amusement. They’re both watching them intently, and Jungkook feels a jolt of embarrassment shoot through him at being caught in such an intimate moment. He quickly looks away, but not before catching the gleam of happiness in both Jimin and Taehyung’s eyes.

"Hey! That's not fair!" Jimin whines, his voice playful but full of longing. "We want a kiss too!" Taehyung nods enthusiastically beside him, a wide grin on his face as he joins in. “Yeah! Don’t leave us out of all the fun!”

Jungkook feels the heat of a blush rise even higher on his face, his pulse quickening at the playful teasing. But Hoseok, ever the one to keep things light and full of affection, chuckles softly, looking between the two omegas and Jungkook with amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Well, well, well," Hoseok teases, his grip on Jungkook tightening just slightly as he looks at Jimin and Taehyung. "Who do you want to kiss then?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the little moment of playful tension.

Jimin and Taehyung exchange a look, both of them wearing amused, almost coy smiles. They both grumble under their breath, but it’s clear they’re having fun with it.

"We want you to kiss us Hobi-hyung," Jimin huffs, crossing his arms with an exaggerated pout, though there’s no mistaking the warmth in his voice. "But we want to kiss Kookie too!" Taehyung chimes in, his grin widening as he leans towards Jimin, eyes still on Hoseok and Jungkook. “It wouldn’t be fair if we didn’t get a turn, right?”

Jungkook feels his heart racing again, a mix of nervousness and excitement filling him. He looks at Hoseok, his eyes wide and a little flustered, not quite sure how to respond to the playful demand from the two omegas.

"Well?" Hoseok asks softly, his voice low and warm. "Is that something you’d like, pup? You want Minnie and Taehyungie to kiss you too?" His gaze shifts to him, the playful teasing still there, but underneath it, there’s a softness that makes Jungkook feel safe, grounded, and supported in whatever decision he makes.

He's suddenly overcome with a wave of embarrassment, can’t help but whine softly, his face turning a deeper shade of red. He stammers out something unintelligible for a moment, his mind racing at the unexpected situation. The idea of kissing Taehyung and Jimin feels natural but he can't help the shyness that comes with it, especially with Hoseok there. But the thought of all of them together, sharing this moment of affection, sends a strange flutter through his chest.

"I... I want them to kiss me too," Jungkook admits, his voice barely above a whisper, but there’s a sense of certainty in his words. He nods slowly, still feeling a little shy but willing, his heart lifting as he looks at the two omegas. "I want to kiss them, and I want you to kiss them too, hyung" he says, his voice stronger now, his confidence growing as he feels the warmth of the moment envelop him.

The words feel natural, as though they were always meant to be said. There’s no fear in him anymore. Just the overwhelming feeling of trust in his pack, in Hoseok, in all of them. He wants to share this moment, this connection, with them, to let go of the last remnants of his insecurity and embrace the love and affection they’re all offering him.

Hoseok’s smile softens, and his eyes gleam with a mixture of pride and warmth as he looks at Jungkook. He nods, his fingers gently brushing along his waist as if to reassure him.

"Good," Hoseok murmurs, his voice full of tenderness. Then, without another word, he turns his attention back to Jimin and Taehyung, who are practically bouncing with excitement at the prospect of receiving the affection they’ve been waiting for.

With a shared glance, the atmosphere shifts. Hoseok gestures for the two omegas to join them on the couch, his invitation warm and unspoken.

Hoseok leans forward first, cupping Jimin’s face gently in his hands, pressing a kiss to his forehead with a soft chuckle. Then, he shifts his attention to Taehyung, kissing him just as affectionately on the cheek. Finally, with a smile, he turns back to Jungkook, his hand brushing along his back as if to reassure him before leaning in, his lips finding Jungkook’s again in a soft, shared kiss that feels like a promise.

A promise of love, of safety, of belonging.

Jimin smiles softly at him, his eyes twinkling with warmth as he reaches for his hand, his fingers gently wrapping around Jungkook’s. His touch is light, but there’s an undeniable sense of affection in it that makes him feel safe, cherished, and wanted.

With a subtle tug, Jimin urges him to come sit with him. Without a word of protest, Jungkook moves from Hoseok's lap, his body already missing the warmth and comfort of the beta’s embrace. As he shifts to sit next to Jimin, he can’t help but glance back, noticing Hoseok pulling Taehyung onto his lap instead, their bodies melting into each other as they both settle into the moment.

The sight stirs something in him, and for a brief second, he wonders what it would feel like to be in Taehyung’s place, with Hoseok’s arms around him again, feeling that undeniable safety. But the thought fades as quickly as it came when he finds himself being gently pulled into Jimin’s arms.

Jimin’s lap is warm and comforting, a perfect spot to settle into. He can feel the omega's steady heartbeat beneath him, and it sends a soothing sensation through his chest. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate for long before placing his arms around the Jimin's neck, his body instinctively leaning into the embrace. The need to be close to him feels almost overwhelming, like a deep-seated desire for affection and connection that he hasn’t been able to express fully until now.

It’s been so long since he kissed Jimin or Taehyung, since they’d claimed him as their own, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a pang of longing. The connection, the closeness, it’s been building ever since, and he wants to be able to share these tender moments whenever he needs to. He wants to kiss them freely, without hesitation, and to feel the comfort they give him whenever it’s needed.

The kiss he shared with Hoseok earlier has only amplified that desire. It was comforting, grounding, and intimate in a way that Jungkook hadn’t anticipated. It made him realize how much those small acts of affection mean to him, how deeply they settle his thoughts and quiet his heart.

And now, here he is, sitting in Jimin’s lap, his body relaxing into the comfort the omega offers. He can feel the warmth enveloping him, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the calm of his presence. Jungkook sighs softly, his head resting against Jimin’s shoulder as he lets himself melt into the moment.

Hoseok and Jimin exchange a look, one filled with a quiet mischief, the kind of playful energy that both makes Jungkook feel safe and causes his stomach to flutter. Their eyes meet, and an unspoken agreement passes between them. Without a word, Hoseok leans forward, his hands gently resting on Taehyung’s waist, pulling him just a little closer into his lap. Meanwhile, Jimin shifts slightly, bringing Jungkook closer to him, his grip on him tightening ever so slightly.

"You both look so pretty like this," Hoseok teases, his voice soft and full of affection as he glances at Taehyung and him. "I mean, just look at you two, sitting on our laps like this." His words are playful, but there’s no mistaking the warmth in them, the affection they carry. Hoseok’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he speaks, a small smile playing on his lips.

Jimin giggles, a soft sound that vibrates through Jungkook’s chest, making him smile in return. "Yes, you both look so beautiful," he says, his voice lilting with warmth as he leans into him, his chin resting lightly on Jungkook's shoulder.

"Because you belong here, with us, next to each other." Jungkook can feel the warmth in Jimin’s words, but it only makes him feel more self-conscious, his cheeks flushing at the attention.

He glances shyly at Jimin, his heart pounding a little faster in his chest, and he shifts slightly, feeling the need to hide his face. But the moment passes quickly, and his shyness melts into a sense of belonging. There’s something about the way Hoseok and Jimin speak to them, the way they treat them, that makes him feel warm.

Jimin’s arms wrap around his waist, pulling him a little closer as he presses a soft kiss to the side of his head. "You really do look so beautiful, Kookie," he whispers, his voice full of sincerity. "We’re so lucky to have you." His words are like a balm to Jungkook’s soul, soothing the lingering doubts that had once clouded his mind.

Jungkook’s heart swells, and in that moment, he knows, deep down, that he is exactly where he is supposed to be. Here, in this place, surrounded by his pack, by these people who love him. The warmth, the affection, the comfort, they all surround him, filling him with a peace he has never felt before. And as he settles more comfortably in Jimin’s lap, his hands tracing small patterns on the omega’s chest, Jungkook realizes that this is what he’s always wanted.

To feel safe. To feel wanted. 

Jungkook feels the pull in his chest, the urge to lean closer, to take that step and close the distance between himself and Jimin. His breath catches in his throat as he inches forward, hesitating for just a moment. Then, with a softness he hadn’t expected, he presses his lips against Jimin’s.

The kiss is slow, tender, as if they have all the time in the world. It’s soft at first, an exploration, a lingering warmth that settles deep in Jungkook’s chest. He can feel Jimin’s breath, steady and comforting, against his lips, and for a moment, he forgets everything else, everything outside of this single, precious moment. Their lips move together, in perfect sync, as if they were always meant to fit together this way.

There’s a quiet reverence in the kiss, a shared understanding that neither of them is in a rush to let go. They both take their time, savoring the closeness, savoring the warmth that is shared between them.

Jungkook’s hands rest lightly on Jimin’s chest, feeling the soft rise and fall of his breaths beneath his palms. He wants to imprint this moment in his memory, to keep it with him forever. It feels like more than just a kiss, it’s a connection, something deeper than anything he’s ever known. It’s comforting, reassuring, and as he presses closer, he feels his body relax further into the embrace.

And then, he feels it.

The realization crashes into him like a sudden gust of wind, stealing his breath.

The bond.

The one they’ve spoken of. The one they insist has always been there. Until now, it had been nothing but words, something distant and out of reach. But now… now, it’s real.

It’s subtle, a barely-there thread woven between them, but he can sense it, like a whisper beneath his skin. A connection humming in the air around them, stretching between him and the others, unseen yet undeniable.

He swears he could reach out and touch it if he tried.

This is the bond they’ve felt from the very beginning. The one they told him Jimin and Taehyung have carried since the day he saved them from the hunters in his village. The one that has been slowly, steadily growing between him and the hyungs.

Before, it had felt abstract, intangible, impossible to grasp. But now, with Jimin’s warmth against him, with this moment seared into his soul, he understands.

It’s there. Maybe it's been there all along.

Quiet yet undeniable. Pulling them toward each other like magnets, like they were always meant to be connected.

In the periphery of his senses, he hears the faint sound of lips meeting, soft and wet, next to him. His heart skips a beat, the sound pulling him out of his fog. He knows, without looking, that it’s Hoseok and Taehyung. The thought makes him curious, but at the same time, it makes his chest tighten with something he can’t quite explain.

It’s a mix of intrigue, desire, and the warmth of being surrounded by love. He feels the sudden need to see them, to watch them in that same intimacy that he’s sharing with Jimin, to witness the connection between Hoseok and Taehyung.

Jimin seems to sense his inner turmoil, the conflict in his mind as he pulls back from the kiss just enough to look at him. His eyes are soft, filled with understanding, and there’s a teasing glint there too. “It’s okay,” Jimin whispers, brushing his thumb gently against Jungkook’s lower lip. “You can look, Kookie. They're yours too. Go ahead, take a look.”

Jungkook’s heart races in his chest as he glances over, his gaze flickering toward the source of the sound. His breath hitches when his eyes land on Hoseok and Taehyung, locked in a passionate kiss. Taehyung is gripping Hoseok’s shirt tightly, his knuckles white with the force of it, and Hoseok’s hands are holding Taehyung as though he’s afraid to let go, his grip fierce and unyielding.

Their kiss is hungry, desperate, as though they can’t get enough of each other. It’s raw, untamed, and the sight makes Jungkook’s heart race even faster.

Hoseok’s lips are moving against Taehyung’s with an urgency that Jungkook can feel in his chest, a magnetic pull that draws him. Taehyung’s soft, breathless sounds are filling the air, mixing with the steady hum of their kiss. The way Hoseok holds Taehyung, like he never wants to let go, is unmistakable.

It’s a level of intensity Jungkook has never witnessed between them before, a connection so deep it both overwhelms and excites him. He’s seen it between Jimin and Taehyung, the way they move together like two halves of a whole. But with the hyungs? He’s never seen them like this.

His chest tightens with something that mixes desire and awe, and for a brief moment, he wishes he could be in Taehyung’s place, to feel the weight of Hoseok’s arms around him like that again. But he also wonders what it would feel like to be in Hoseok’s place, Taehyung in his lap, kissing him.

Jungkook feels Jimin’s gaze on him, steady and unyielding as he takes in the scene before him. His breath catches, chest rising and falling just a little too quickly, and he knows Jimin sees it. The curiosity, the flicker of longing, the faint sting of jealousy he doesn’t quite understand.

Jimin must feel it too, because when Jungkook finally glances at him, there’s a knowing smile tugging at his lips. There’s something about the way the omega watches him, something warm, almost fond, like he enjoys seeing him stumble his way through these unfamiliar emotions, piece by piece, moment by moment.

Jimin leans in slightly, his lips brushing against Jungkook’s ear as he whispers teasingly, his voice low and playful. “Does that make you feel a little something, Kookie? The way they’re kissing, the way Hobi hyung’s holding Taehyungie? Does it make your heart race?”

His words are light, but there’s a hint of challenge in them, like he’s daring him to acknowledge the emotions swirling inside him. He pulls back just enough to meet Jungkook’s gaze, his eyes filled with amusement. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re feeling it, huh?”

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, his cheeks flushing a deep red at the teasing words. He knows Jimin is right, he can’t hide what he’s feeling, not when it’s so raw, so intense. His heart is thundering in his chest, his body alive with a mix of emotions.

He feels drawn to them, drawn to the way they hold each other, to the intimacy they share so effortlessly. It’s overwhelming in the best possible way, and he feels his own desire stirring deep inside him. But at the same time, he feels the heat of embarrassment creeping up his neck. He wasn’t expecting to be caught in this way, wasn’t expecting to be so transparent with his feelings.

Jimin grins at him, a mischievous glint in his eye, and Jungkook can’t help but smile back, albeit a little sheepishly. “It’s okay, Kookie,” Jimin says softly, his tone shifting to something more comforting, more understanding. “You’re allowed to feel all of it. We’re here, together. You don’t need to hide it from us.” He gives Jungkook’s waist a gentle squeeze, as if to reassure him that it’s safe to feel whatever he’s feeling.

Jungkook nods, his breath still coming in short gasps as he watches Hoseok and Taehyung again, their kiss growing deeper, more passionate. His heart flutters, a sense of awe and longing stirring inside him, and he allows himself to be fully immersed in the sight. There’s no shame in it. Just the raw, undeniable pull of connection, of love, of the bond that they all share.

And as the kiss between Hoseok and Taehyung finally slows, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, Jungkook can’t help but think that he’s ready for his own share of that affection. To experience it again, to feel the warmth of the people around him, close to him, just as he had with Jimin.

The air is thick, charged with something electric as Taehyung shifts on Hoseok’s lap, his body trembling with barely restrained desperation. His eyes, wide and pleading, are locked onto Hoseok, his lips parted as he begs.

“Please, hyungie,” he murmurs, voice rough and needy. “Let me kiss him. Let me kiss Kookie, please.”

Jungkook freezes. His breath catches in his throat, a sharp inhale that does nothing to steady the sudden pounding of his heart. Taehyung looks wrecked, pupils blown wide, lips pink and swollen. His hands tremble where they rest against Hoseok’s chest, fingers twitching like he’s barely holding himself together.

Hoseok only chuckles, the sound warm and indulgent. “You don’t have to beg for that, Tae,” he says, though there’s clear amusement in his tone. His hands slide up Taehyung’s sides, slow and steady, grounding. “But I won’t lie, I like it when you do. You're always so pretty when you beg.”

Jimin hums in agreement, lounging comfortably on the couch, but his eyes are sharp, drinking in every detail. “Mmm, you really don’t have to beg,” he echoes, lips curving into a knowing smile. “But hyung's right, it’s cute when you do it.”

Taehyung whines, restless, shifting again on Hoseok’s lap as though the heat inside him is too much to bear. His gaze snaps to Jungkook, dark and focused, and the intensity makes Jungkook’s stomach flip.

Before he can even think, before he can brace himself, Taehyung moves.

The kiss is sudden, hard, desperate. Their mouths crash together in a collision of heat and urgency, and Jungkook barely has time to gasp before Taehyung’s fingers are in his hair, gripping tight. The sensation sends a sharp shiver down Jungkook’s spine, his body reacting before his mind can catch up. A soft, helpless whimper escapes him.

Taehyung whimpers back, his grip tightening, his lips pressing harder, more insistent. His kiss is all-consuming, open-mouthed and hungry, like he’s trying to pour every ounce of his need into Jungkook, trying to lose himself in the feeling. Jungkook can do nothing but respond, his hands finding purchase on Taehyung’s waist, grasping at the soft fabric of his clothes as he’s pulled deeper and deeper into the kiss.

The sound of hushed curses reaches his ears, low and breathless.

“Fuck,” Hoseok murmurs, his voice thick. “Look at them Minnie.”

“They look so good like this,” Jimin agrees, his voice quieter, almost awed. There’s an edge of something in his tone, possessiveness, maybe, or something softer, more reverent. “Both of them, just—” He trails off, exhaling a slow, measured breath.

Jungkook barely processes their words. All he knows is the heat of Taehyung’s mouth, the way he’s being kissed like Taehyung needs him to breathe, the way they both tremble against each other. He can feel Hoseok’s warmth underneath Taehyung, steady and unwavering, can hear the quiet, approving sounds Jimin makes as he watches them.

“You’re both being so good,” Hoseok praises, his voice like silk, smooth and coaxing. “My pretty boys.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to do with the warmth that blooms in his chest at those words, at the way they’re watching, at the way Taehyung feels against him, desperate and aching and completely overwhelming. He doesn’t know how to do anything except hold on, let himself be kissed, let himself feel.

Jungkook is lost in it. Lost in the heat of Taehyung’s mouth, in the way their lips move together, desperate and open, in the way Taehyung’s hands clutch at him like he’s afraid to let go. The kiss is endless, dizzying, leaving him lightheaded and aching in ways he doesn’t even have words for. He feels like he’s floating, like he could stay here forever, wrapped up in this moment, in Taehyung, in the warmth of his skin and the way their bodies press together.

Then, over the sound of their ragged breathing, he hears it. A soft sigh, a muffled hum, the unmistakable sound of lips meeting lips.

Jungkook barely has the presence of mind to process it at first, too consumed by Taehyung, but he hears it again, the wet slide of lips moving together, a quiet groan, the rustle of shifting fabric. It sends a sharp shiver down his spine.

Hoseok and Jimin.

They’re kissing.

The realization sends a fresh wave of heat curling in his stomach, low and slow-burning. The thought of it, of being here, kissing Taehyung while Hoseok and Jimin are doing the same so close to them, is exhilarating. His pulse quickens, a deep thrill running through him at the intimacy of it all, the four of them tangled up in the same moment, lost in each other.

He never wants to stop. Never wants to leave.

Eventually, Taehyung breaks the kiss, their lips parting with a gasp. Jungkook barely realizes how out of breath he is until his forehead presses against Taehyung’s, both of them panting hard, lungs working to pull in air. Taehyung’s eyes are half-lidded, dark with something Jungkook doesn’t have a name for, and for a second, all they can do is stare at each other, chests rising and falling in sync.

Then, as if drawn by some invisible pull, their attention shifts to the sight of Jimin and Hoseok.

It’s mesmerizing.

Jungkook has never seen Jimin like this before. Jimin, who always seems to take control, who teases and guides and knows exactly how to handle both him and Taehyung. But here, in Hoseok’s arms, he’s different.

Pliant. Soft.

He lets Hoseok kiss him however he wants, lets himself be handled, lets himself be wanted.

Hoseok kisses him deeply, like he’s savoring him, like he has all the time in the world to take Jimin apart piece by piece. His hands hold the omega firmly, one wrapped around his waist, the other buried in his hair, keeping him close, keeping him exactly where he wants him. And Jimin just lets him.

Jungkook swallows hard, chest rising and falling as he struggles to catch his breath.

Beside him, Taehyung is just as entranced, his lips still swollen, his breathing uneven. Neither of them speak. Neither of them move.

They can only watch.

Watch as Jimin melts against Hoseok, watch the way Hoseok tilts Jimin’s head just so, deepening the kiss, watch the way Jimin sighs into it like he’s giving in completely. It’s a sight to see, one that keeps them both frozen in place, feeling too much, unable to do anything but take it all in while their own bodies still buzz with the remnants of their own kiss.

When Jimin and Hoseok finally break apart, their lips are slick, their cheeks flushed, and their eyes gleaming with something warm and knowing. They don’t pull away completely, lingering close, foreheads nearly touching as they smile at each other, looking utterly pleased.

Jungkook and Taehyung don’t move. They’re still caught in the moment, still struggling to catch their breath, still trying to process what they just saw. The heat in Jungkook’s stomach hasn’t faded, it lingers, simmering just beneath his skin, making him hyperaware of everything. The way Taehyung’s fingers are still tangled in his hair. The way his own lips still tingle from Taehyung’s kiss. The way Jimin and Hoseok are looking at them now, amusement flickering in their eyes.

Jimin tilts his head, grinning as he takes them in. “Did you enjoy the show?” he teases, voice light and playful.

Hoseok chuckles, his gaze flitting between them, taking in their wide eyes, their swollen lips, the way they’re both still breathing hard. “We put it on just for you,” he adds, voice dripping with amusement.

Jungkook opens his mouth, then closes it, unsure how to respond. He knows he doesn’t have to, Jimin and Hoseok can definitely see it written all over their faces, in the way they’re still frozen, caught in the haze of everything.

Jimin hums, his smile softening as he leans in. Jungkook barely has time to react before the omega's lips press against his again, just a fleeting peck, a gentle reminder of the kiss they shared earlier. Warmth blooms in his chest, spreading outward, leaving him dazed.

Jimin turns next, pressing the same soft kiss to Taehyung’s lips, his movements unhurried, affectionate. When he pulls away, Hoseok follows suit, leaning in to brush a lingering kiss against Jungkook’s lips, then Taehyung’s, his touch just as warm, just as grounding.

Jungkook exhales shakily, feeling like he’s floating, like the moment is still stretching on, wrapping around them like something sacred, something precious. Taehyung shifts beside him, his fingers twitching where they rest against Jungkook’s thigh, and when Jungkook glances at him, his expression is almost dazed, pupils still blown wide.

Neither of them say a word.

They don’t have to.

Hoseok sighs, warm and content, as he pulls all three of them closer, wrapping them up in his arms like he never wants to let go. “I’m so lucky,” he murmurs, his voice thick with fondness. “Having all three of my pups right here with me.”

His words settle over Jungkook like a warm blanket, grounding him, pulling him back down from the desperate, all-consuming haze he had been lost in just moments ago. It had been so intense, kissing all three of them, feeling the weight of their hands on him, the warmth of their lips, the way they all fit together so perfectly. He’s never been in a situation like this before, never felt so utterly surrounded by this kind of closeness, this kind of affection.

But he’s not complaining. He’d stay like this forever if he could. Hoseok ruffles their hair one by one, his touch gentle. Then, with a small hum, he shifts, his arms loosening. “I’m gonna go make us some tea,” he announces, voice still laced with that easy warmth.

Taehyung, still curled up on Hoseok’s lap, whines immediately, clutching at him like he doesn’t want to let him go. “Nooo, don't go Hobi-hyung,” he protests, his voice soft, bordering on petulant.

Hoseok just chuckles, pressing a kiss to Taehyung’s forehead. “I’ll be back, baby. You’ll survive without me for a few minutes,” he teases, though there’s nothing but affection in his voice.

Taehyung pouts but doesn’t argue further, letting Hoseok slip away. Jungkook watches as Hoseok disappears into the kitchen, the warmth of his presence lingering even after he’s gone. Slowly, he shifts off Jimin’s lap, settling onto the couch properly, still feeling the ghost of Jimin’s hands on his skin, the imprint of Taehyung’s lips against his own.

Jimin and Taehyung exchange a look before turning to him, eyes bright.

“Thank you for the kisses, Kookie,” Jimin says, voice light, but there’s something soft in the way he says it, something that makes Jungkook’s chest feel tight.

Taehyung nods eagerly. “Yeah, thanks, pup.” His grin is wide, playful. “You’re good at it.”

Jungkook flushes, ducking his head. “I—” He swallows, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I wanted it too,” he admits, voice quiet but honest. Jimin and Taehyung beam at him, and Jungkook can’t help but smile back, feeling warm, feeling… content. Then, as he lets the moment settle, something tugs at his mind.

He glances between Jimin and Taehyung, frowning slightly. "I’ve never really seen you guys kiss before," Jungkook muses, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Well, I've seen you two kiss, but I've never seen you kiss anyone else... or the hyungs being intimate." He pauses, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Even though it's your house."

Jimin and Taehyung blink at him, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. Then, after a beat, Jimin smirks, leaning in slightly. “Why?” he asks, his voice dripping with amusement. “Did you want to see us kiss the hyungs, Kookie?”

Jungkook whines, face warming, and lightly smacks Jimin’s chest in protest. “Hyung! That's not—” he starts to complain, pouting. Jimin only laughs, his whole body shaking with amusement, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches Jungkook fluster under his teasing.

Still, Jungkook’s question lingers, nudging at the back of his mind. He shifts slightly, glancing between Jimin and Taehyung, his voice softer when he speaks again. “But… have you guys been holding back because of me?”

At that, the amusement in Jimin’s eyes softens, turning into something more understanding. Taehyung hums beside him, tilting his head, considering the question. “A little,” Jimin admits after a moment, shrugging. “But it’s not a big deal, Kookie. You don’t have to spiral over it or think it’s your fault.”

Taehyung nods in agreement, leaning into Jungkook’s side slightly. “We just didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he explains, voice gentle. “I mean, there are six of us, after all.”

Jungkook blinks, heart fluttering at their words. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about it before, how different their world is from his, how they’re already so intertwined with each other in ways he’s still getting used to. He’s never once felt excluded, but… he understands now. They were giving him space, letting him find his own way into this, into them.

Jimin reaches out, ruffling his hair. “Don’t worry, though. We find plenty of moments to kiss each other anyway.” His tone is light, reassuring. “It’s not like we’re suffering, I promise.”

Jungkook exhales, feeling some of the tension in his chest ease. They’re not holding back in a way that hurts them. They’re not waiting on him in a way that disrupts their daily life. That’s all he needed to hear. Still, a part of him clenches at the thought of them tiptoeing around him, as if he’s something fragile, something to be handled with caution. He’s done enough hiding. Enough hesitating.

And they’re his.

Jungkook straightens his back slightly, trying to summon the confidence that always seems to come so naturally to them. “You don’t have to do that anymore,” he says, voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest. “I don’t want you to hold back because of me. I want you to act normally.”

For once, neither Jimin nor Taehyung tease him for his boldness. They don’t push or prod or try to fluster him. Instead, they simply smile, something soft and proud glimmering in their eyes. “Okay, pup,” Taehyung murmurs, nudging his nose against Jungkook’s cheek. “We’ll stop holding back.” Jimin grins, resting a hand on Jungkook’s thigh. “We’ll make sure to tell the hyungs too,” he promises.

Jungkook swallows, feeling the weight of his own words settle. This is real. This is happening. And he… wants it.

All of it.

Hoseok returns moments later, carrying a tray with their tea. The scent of chamomile and honey fills the room as he sets it down on the small table, his movements easy and practiced. “There you go,” he hums, handing each of them a cup before taking his own and settling back into his spot.

Jungkook watches as Hoseok picks up the book he had abandoned earlier, flipping it open to where he left off. He looks comfortable like this, legs tucked up, fingers idly skimming over the pages, the soft glow of the lamp casting warm light on his features. There’s something so effortlessly soothing about it, about him.

Jungkook has never been much of a reader. It’s not that he dislikes it, but he’s never really had the chance. Books weren’t exactly easy to come by in his village, and the ones that did exist weren’t meant for him. He had spent more time working and surviving than reading, more time running than stopping long enough to enjoy something for himself.

But here, with Hoseok looking so engrossed, a small frown tugging at his brows as he reads, curiosity tugs at Jungkook.

“What are you reading, hyung?” he asks, blowing lightly on his tea before taking a careful sip. Hoseok glances up, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, this?” He lifts the book slightly. “I went to see the elders earlier, and one of them gave me this book about humans.”

Jungkook blinks. “About humans?”

“Mhm.” Hoseok sighs, flipping a page lazily. “Not that I’m learning much. Most of it is just random, useless facts.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “Like what?”

Hoseok lifts a brow, amused. “Like how, apparently, humans can glow in the dark.”

Jungkook nearly chokes on his tea. “What?”

“Yeah.” Hoseok deadpans, clearly unimpressed. “Apparently, human bodies emit a faint bioluminescence, but the human eye can’t pick up on it.”

Jungkook stares at him. “Then, what’s the point?”

Hoseok throws his hands up. “Exactly! That’s what I’m saying.” He huffs, leaning back into the couch. “Nothing in here has actually been useful so far. I think the elders just gave me this book to mess with me at this point.”

Taehyung snickers against the rim of his cup. “I mean, that does sound like something they’d do.”

Jimin hums, resting his chin on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Still, glowing in the dark, huh? That’s kinda cute, Kookie. Maybe you do glow, and we just can’t see it.”

Jungkook groans, nudging him away. “I do not glow in the dark, hyung.”

Jimin and Taehyung exchange looks before grinning. “Oh, we'll have to test it,” Taehyung decides. Hoseok laughs, shaking his head, and Jungkook sighs, already regretting his curiosity.

Jungkook holds his cup with both hands, wrapping them around the warmth of the pink ceramic. He takes a careful sip, the taste melting on his tongue. It’s warm, sweet, comforting in the same way Seokjin’s cooking always is, like something meant to soothe and take care of him.

The thought makes something ache softly in his chest. It’s been a while since he’s had a proper moment with Seokjin. Out of all his hyungs, he hasn’t had the chance to go on a date with him yet. In fact… he hasn’t really had the chance to go on a date with any of them, apart from Hoseok.

The realization settles in his mind, stirring something restless inside him. He wants to change that.

“Huh…” Jungkook starts, glancing at Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok as they lounge comfortably around him. “What does Seokjin-hyung like?”

Jimin raises a brow, shifting where he sits. “What do you mean?”

“Like, what are his hobbies? What does he like to do when he’s not busy?”

At that, Taehyung tilts his head, considering. “He likes cooking, obviously. But you already know that.” Hoseok hums, tapping a finger against his mug. “He enjoys fishing sometimes. Says it helps him clear his head.” “Oh! And he likes collecting little trinkets,” Jimin adds. “Especially cute ones. You should see all the little wood figurines he has.”

Jungkook listens intently, absorbing every piece of information. He wants to know more, wants to make sure that when he finally asks Seokjin out, it’ll be something Seokjin will actually enjoy. When a natural lull falls in the conversation, he takes a breath before asking, “Do you know when he’ll be free?”

All three of them turn to look at him at once.

Jungkook shifts under their sudden attention. “What?”

Hoseok smirks. “Why are you asking all these questions about Jin-hyung, hum?” Jimin’s eyes gleam with mischief. “Yeah, Kookie. Something you wanna share?”

Jungkook groans, feeling his ears burn. "I just..." He exhales, gathering the courage to be bold. "I just... I thought maybe I could... I don’t know, go on a date with him?"

Their teasing falls away slightly, replaced with warm smiles. “Yeah?” Taehyung asks, voice gentler now.

Jungkook nods. “I haven’t had the chance yet, and I don’t want to wait for him to ask me first. I… I think I want to be the one to organize it this time.” At that, Jimin grins wide, looking both pleased and proud. “Our little pup is growing up.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but he can’t stop the small, fond smile that tugs at his lips. Because it’s true, he’s changing. Growing. Taking charge of what he wants.

And right now, what he wants is Seokjin.

The conversation continues to flow, each word sinking deeper into Jungkook’s mind as he envisions the date he’s determined to plan. When Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung explain that tomorrow, only Seokjin will be home, since all of them have their own commitments, it feels like the perfect opportunity for him to finally do something special for his hyung.

But then Taehyung offers a gentle reminder. "Maybe… maybe you shouldn’t go fishing with him just yet."

Jungkook blinks, his thoughts stalling momentarily. "Why not?"

Jimin sighs with a small chuckle. "Well, with what happened the other day, with you and Taehyungie by the river, Jin-hyung would just end up worrying about you the whole time."

Jungkook immediately flushes at the memory. The last thing he wants is for Seokjin to worry about him during their date, he doesn’t want to burden him like that. "Okay… yes, I see your point." Jungkook swallows the nervous lump in his throat. He wants the date to be perfect, not marred by any tension or anxiety. But then, as if a lightbulb flickers to life above his head, an idea bursts into his mind. His eyes brighten, and he looks between Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok. "What about cooking for him?"

Jimin’s and Taehyung’s eyes widen with delight. “That’s a great idea, Kookie!” Taehyung exclaims. “Jin-hyung would find it so cute! He’s always the one in the kitchen. It’ll make him so happy to see you take charge." Jimin nods vigorously, a proud glint in his eyes. "He’ll love it. Especially if you make something simple, but thoughtful. He’s not too picky, but he’ll appreciate the effort."

Hoseok smiles, settling back on the couch with a relaxed ease. "We’ve got everything you need in the kitchen. We’ll help you prep, get everything chopped, and make sure you’ve got a dish that’ll really surprise him."

Jungkook feels a rush of warmth spread through him. This is the perfect way to show Seokjin how much he cares, how much he wants to take part in their world. The idea of making lunch for him feels more personal than anything else he could’ve done.

Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung take the opportunity to give him some suggestions, simple but delicious dishes that Seokjin would enjoy. “How about a nice stir-fry with vegetables and chicken?” Taehyung suggests. “It’s easy to make, and Jin-hyung has always had a soft spot for it.”

Jimin adds, “Or you could make him some rice cakes! You know, the sweet ones with the syrup? They’re not hard to prepare, and they’re a little more special.”

Hoseok offers his own input, smirking a little. “You could even try making a soup. Hyung’s a sucker for a good, hearty soup.”

Jungkook listens to their advice intently, his mind racing with ideas. He feels the excitement and nerves bubble up inside him. This is the first time he’s doing something like this, planning something for someone he cares about.

Once they finish their tea, the four of them head into the kitchen together. Hoseok shows him where everything is stored, spices, oils, rice, and the many containers of ingredients that seem to line every shelf in perfect order.

Jimin steps in with a grin. “Don’t worry, Kook-ah. We’ll guide you through it. You won’t mess this up.”

Taehyung helps him prep, showing him how to chop vegetables with ease, his hand gently resting on Jungkook’s back as he guides his movements. The kitchen smells of garlic and fresh herbs as they work, the hum of conversation keeping the atmosphere light and warm. Jungkook starts to feel confident, his nerves slowly giving way to focus. He’s determined to make this perfect for Seokjin.

By the time they’re finished, Jungkook feels confident, he knows exactly how to make Seokjin’s favorite dish, how to season it perfectly, and how to set the table so it feels special. They carefully store everything they’ve prepared, making sure it’s hidden just enough that Seokjin won’t catch on. He just hopes Seokjin doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.

When they leave the kitchen, Taehyung pats Jungkook’s shoulder. “You’re gonna do great, pup.” Jimin gives him a playful wink. “Just remember, don’t overthink it. Hyung’s gonna be so impressed, and he’s gonna love it.” Hoseok smiles warmly. "I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time with Jin-hyung."

Jungkook nods, feeling the weight of their words settle in his chest. He’s ready. More than ready. Tomorrow, he’ll show Seokjin just how much he means to him. And this time, it’ll be his turn to take care of him. As Jungkook stands there, absorbed in his thoughts and the preparations, Jimin and Taehyung exchange a knowing glance. They both smile at him, their eyes bright with mischief, but there’s something deeper there too, an understanding of how much this means to him.

“You know,” Jimin begins softly, leaning in with a teasing smile, "Jin-hyung will definitely love it if you call him that, 'Jin-hyung.' "

Jungkook looks up at them, confused for a moment. “Jin-hyung?”

Taehyung grins, his voice full of affection. “Yeah, we all call him that. It’s the nickname we use for him, ‘Jin-hyung’ just feels right, doesn’t it? And he’ll definitely like it. He’s not one for the formalities, and it’ll make him feel closer to you, I think.”

Jimin nods, his smile warm and sincere. "You haven’t called him that yet, have you? He’ll be so happy if you do. It’ll show him just how close you’re becoming."

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat. He’s always called Seokjin 'Seokjin-hyung,' but the thought of adding that affectionate, intimate touch to his voice, calling him 'Jin-hyung', feels new. It feels like a step forward, a deepening of their connection.

He bites his lip, feeling the gentle flutter of excitement in his chest. “I’ll do it,” he says quietly, nodding to himself. “I think it’ll be perfect.”

Taehyung pats him on the back, his grin wide. “He’s gonna melt when he hears it, Kookie. You’ve got this.”

Jimin’s smile softens, his eyes full of warmth. “It’s those little things that’ll show him just how much you care. He’s going to appreciate it more than you think.”

With those words in his mind, Jungkook feels a renewed sense of purpose.

Tomorrow, when Seokjin walks through that door, he’s not only going to be greeted with a delicious meal, but with a simple, heartfelt change in how Jungkook addresses him, a small but meaningful gesture that shows just how much he’s starting to understand and embrace their world.

“Jin-hyung,” he whispers to himself, trying it out, and something inside him stirs.

It feels right.

It feels like a promise.

Notes:

Hey guys!! 😊✨

Sorry for the delay!! I’ve been super busy getting ready to go back to work after my little break. Anxiety is no joke, y’all! 😅
My sister and brother-in-law also showed up unannounced to spend a few days with me, haha! So that’s why it took me a little longer to update this fic. 😆
But I gotta say, the update schedule might look like this in the future too. I travel a lot for work, and sometimes I’m away for two weeks at a time, so it'll be tough to update regularly (since I don’t take my computer with me). But I promise I’ll try my best! 💪🌟

Now, back to the story! I just loooove HopeKook. Hobi's so playful and fun! And not him getting flustered from Jungkook’s little peck! 😂 He’s so used to being the one in charge that Jungkook taking the initiative totally caught him off guard.
Also, I can’t blame Vmin for wanting in on those kisses. What do you mean you're making out on the couch without them?? 😏💖 And I might have a thing for kiss scenes where one person is sitting on the other’s lap... so I had to double it, you know! 😉

And Jungkook can feel the bond now too? Well, a little at least! That’s such a big moment for him! 😳 And him telling the hyungs to stop holding back?? (I just know he secretly wants to see them kiss around the house 😂👀)

I can’t wait for Jungkook’s date with his Seokjin-hyung! Look at him being all brave and planning a cute little date for Seokjin. It’s honestly too cute, I can’t! 🥺💖🥰

On a totally different note (because this is my personal diary, right? 😂), I’m currently in salad fever!! But I am sooo bored of avocado oil and lemon! 🥴 Don’t get me wrong, with a little salt and pepper, it’s great, but I need more flavor!! 😩 Since I’m eating dairy-free (and, well, also refined sugar-free and gluten-free), it’s SO hard to find something yummy to put on my salads.
The struggle is real ! 😫
What we do for clear skin, right? (I swear, those girls with perfect skin don’t even know how lucky they are!! 😤)

Anyway, I hope you’ve all been doing well! Take care of yourselves, don’t get sick, and eat well! 🥰 Stay healthy and hydrated!
See you in the next chapter! ✨

Chapter 45: Making It Perfect

Summary:

Just Jungkook trying (and failing) not to spiral over his upcoming date with Seokjin.

The warmth of the evening lingers long after dinner, wrapping the pack in a quiet, contented atmosphere. Jungkook finds himself nestled between Jimin and Taehyung on the large couch, their bodies pressed close, limbs tangled lazily together.

Hoseok is sitting next to them, an arm draped comfortably over Jimin's back as he hums a quiet tune. There’s no urgency to the moment, no need for movement. Just the quiet rise and fall of their breathing, the occasional murmur of contentment, and the way their scents mix together, soft, familiar, and grounding.

It feels safe.

It feels like home.

“I still can’t believe you’re planning a date for Jin-hyung tomorrow,” Jimin whispers suddenly, breaking the silence with a grin that’s far too sly for how innocent his voice tries to sound. Taehyung lights up immediately, eyes sparkling with delight. “Ugh, it’s so romantic. He’s gonna walk in, see that his adorable Jungkookie cooked for him, and just melt on the spot. Bet he won’t even make it to the table before he starts swooning.”

Jungkook flushes, shifting between them. “I-It’s not… it’s not that serious, hyungs… I just… I just wanna spend some time with him. I don’t even know if he’ll see it as a date or… or if that’s even enough. Maybe it’s stupid…”

"It’s not stupid at all," Hoseok says, his voice low and laced with quiet amusement. "And trust me, Jin-hyung’s going to understand exactly what you’re trying to say. For shifters, gestures like that mean a lot. Maybe it’s our more instinctive side, but offering to provide for someone? That’s one of the clearest ways to show you care. That’s what makes it serious.”

Hoseok’s voice softens as he leans in a little closer, smile curling at his lips. “And the fact that it’s for Jin-hyung? That makes it even more special.” His tone is warm, almost fond. “He’s always the one taking care of us, making sure everyone’s fed and looked after. But coming home to find you waiting, with something you made just for him?” Hoseok lets out a quiet laugh. “He’s going to melt, Jungkookie. You’ll have him wrapped around your little finger before lunch’s even over.”

Taehyung gasps quietly. “What are you going to wear? We need to plan!”

But before Jungkook can even open his mouth, footsteps echo softly across the wooden floor, and Seokjin appears in the doorway, pausing to take in the sight of them all curled up together like lazy cats in a sunbeam.

“What are you both up to now, huh?” he asks, directing the question at Taehyung and Jimin, though his eyes linger on Jungkook for a beat too long, like he knows.

“Nothing, hyungiiie,” Jimin answers, dragging the word out with practiced sweetness, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips is a little too telling.

Seokjin raises a brow, crossing his arms. “I swear, every time you two are together, there’s some kind of scheme brewing. Should I be concerned?”

Taehyung gives an overly dramatic gasp, placing a hand to his chest. “Jin-hyung, you wound me! Can’t we just cuddle in peace?”

Jungkook hides his face a little deeper between them, hoping the heat in his cheeks isn’t as obvious as it feels. Seokjin narrows his eyes for a long, suspicious moment, clearly not buying it, before he sighs and ruffles Jungkook’s hair in passing. “Just… whatever it is, don’t get into too much trouble.”

Jungkook smiles at the gesture, the warmth in his chest blooming again. Seokjin had definitely sensed something, but to his relief, the beta doesn’t press further. He just disappears down the hall, leaving them with their barely contained energy and a renewed sense of mischief.

As soon as Seokjin’s footsteps fade down the hall, Taehyung leans in like a conspirator, eyes glinting with mischief. “That was way too close. He definitely knows something’s up, but there’s no way he’ll guess what exactly. Now…” He grins. “Let’s talk about what you’re going to wear.”

Jungkook lets out a muffled groan and hides his face in Jimin’s shoulder. “You guys are so relentless.”

“Shhh,” Jimin coos, running a soothing hand through his hair. “Keep your voice down, he might still be listening.” His fingers card gently through Jungkook’s locks as he adds with a dreamy sigh, “But Tae’s right. We need to pick something cute. Jin-hyung would think you’re adorable no matter what, but pink? He loves you in pink. Did you know it’s his favorite color? And it looks so good on you.”

“I’ll pull a few options for you, Kookie,” Taehyung says confidently, tapping his fingers against Jungkook’s chest. “It has to strike the perfect balance, adorable but effortless. Like you just woke up looking date-ready.”

“And whatever you do, don’t get stuck in your own head,” Hoseok adds gently, reaching over to tug the blanket higher over Jungkook’s legs. His fingers linger for a moment, a quiet reassurance in the gesture. “You’re adorable when you’re nervous, Jungkookie, but you don’t have to try so hard. Jin-hyung already likes you, he really does. All you have to do is be yourself.”

“But I am nervous hyung,” Jungkook admits in a tiny voice, the words half-swallowed against the soft cotton of Jimin’s shirt. His breath tickles at the omega’s collarbone as he buries his face deeper, as if he could hide there forever.

“We know Kookie,” Jimin murmurs, his smile gentle as he pulls Jungkook closer, wrapping both arms around him like a shield. “That’s why we’re here, to help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“Exactly,” Taehyung chimes in, scooting closer until his thigh presses against Jungkook’s. He leans in dramatically, voice lowered like he’s sharing a secret. “This is a fully dedicated emotional support cuddle puddle. We’re not letting you out of this until you’re calm enough to flirt without combusting.”

Jungkook lets out a soft groan, one hand coming up to cover his face, but it’s clear there’s no real protest in it. His ears are red. His cheeks are glowing. He’s hopelessly flustered, and all three of them know it.

“You’re going to have so much fun tomorrow,” Hoseok murmurs, his voice dipping into something quieter, more sincere. He presses a feather-light kiss to the crown of Jungkook’s head. “And when you come back, we expect every single detail. No skipping the good parts.”

Jungkook’s groan turns into something closer to a whimper as he hides even deeper in Jimin’s arms. “You’re all the worst,” he mumbles, but the edges of his voice are soft, trembling with laughter.

“No,” Jimin corrects, stroking his back in slow, soothing circles. “We’re the best. And you know it.”

There’s a pause, filled only by the sound of their breathing, the warmth of limbs tangled together and the soft rise and fall of Jungkook’s chest as he starts to settle. Maybe it’s gratitude, maybe it’s the quiet joy of being wanted, maybe it’s both, but something in him finally lets go.

He melts into their touch, lets their words and warmth wrap around him like a blanket, like a lullaby. The thought of tomorrow doesn’t feel so terrifying. It almost feels… exciting.

Their whispers continue for a while longer, occasionally interrupted by a stifled giggle or a dramatic gasp as they brainstorm possible topics, emergency exits in case Jungkook panics, and how he should react if Seokjin tries to kiss him. Hoseok tells them to quiet down before someone actually hears and Jungkook’s heart is so full he thinks he might float.

Their laughter fades into contented silence, the warmth of their conversation lingering in the air as Jungkook allows himself to relax into the moment, heart still fluttering with affection. 

After a while, the pack all gathers in the living room for a card game. Jungkook is hesitant at first, unfamiliar with the rules, but with a bit of guidance from Hoseok and Taehyung, he quickly gets the hang of it. The game grows competitive fast, everyone groaning dramatically when Namjoon pulls ahead, his strategic mind outpacing the rest of them effortlessly.

“Of course he wins,” Yoongi mutters, shuffling the deck for another round. “This is exactly why I don’t play strategy games with you anymore.”

“You say that,” Namjoon replies, smirking as he leans back against the couch, “but you’ll still come back and play again.”

Jimin crosses his arms with a dramatic huff. “We only ask you to play because we forget how annoying you are to play against.”

“Exactly!” Hoseok chimes in. “You should at least pretend to struggle a little so it’s more fun for us.”

Namjoon grins, clearly unbothered by their complaints. “It's not my fault I’m just that good.”

Jungkook watches the exchange with amusement, feeling a sense of belonging in the way they tease each other so easily. Despite being new to the game, he had managed to come in second place, which had earned him some grumbling from Yoongi and Taehyung but also plenty of playful praise.

Eventually, the game winds down, and they all shift into another cuddle pile on the couch. Jungkook lets himself be pulled into the warmth of his packmates again, sinking into the comfort of their presence. The gentle weight of Jimin’s head on his shoulder, the slow rise and fall of Taehyung’s breathing against his side, it all soothes him in a way he hadn’t even realized he needed.

As the night stretches on, the omegas eventually decide to head to bed first, stretching lazily before making their way to the nest. Hoseok and Seokjin promise to take care of the dishes, shooing them off with lighthearted grumbles about how much of a mess they left behind.

And then it’s just him, alone with Namjoon and Yoongi.

Jungkook hadn’t expected to have this time with them tonight, especially after how his day had started. The heavy weight of the morning had lingered over him for hours, the sting of disappointment at not getting to spend time with them pressing into his chest. But now, with just the three of them left in the quiet of the living room, he feels lighter.

Yoongi is the first to speak, voice soft but firm. “Feeling better, pup?”

Jungkook nods without hesitation. “Yes, I think so.”

The quiet of the evening lingers around them, the soft crackle of the fireplace filling the silence as Jungkook sits nestled between Namjoon and Yoongi. It feels peaceful, warm even, but he can tell there’s something heavy still lingering between them. He feels it in the way Namjoon keeps glancing at him, in the way Yoongi’s fingers tap idly against the cushion beside him.

It doesn’t take long for Namjoon to speak first, his voice gentle yet firm, like he’s been thinking over the words carefully before saying them. “Jungkook-ah… we wanted to say sorry again. For what happened at the trading markets.”

Jungkook tenses ever so slightly at the mention, but Namjoon’s hand is already on his back, gently rubbing slow, comforting circles. "We should've been there with you," Namjoon continues, his voice heavy with regret. "We should’ve handled it differently. I keep replaying everything in my mind, thinking of all the ways we could've done better. I wish you’d never had to face something like that... but I can’t change what’s already happened."

Yoongi lets out a soft exhale, his voice lowering, yet carrying the same weight of conviction. “If anything like that happens again in the future, if anyone makes you feel uncomfortable, don’t keep it to yourself, Kook-ah. Please tell us. You always have us, no matter what. As much as I wish nothing like that would ever happen again, I need you to understand that it’s possible. And if it does, I want you to tell one of us, okay? It’s important. Promise me, pup, that you’ll always speak up.”

Jungkook can sense the guilt weighing on both of them, though he knows it’s not their fault. It was just an unfortunate situation. He wants to ease their worry, even if it’s not necessary. “I promise, hyungs.”

Both Namjoon and Yoongi visibly relax at his words, their expressions softening with quiet relief.

Jungkook hesitates, lowering his gaze to his lap. He doesn’t know why it’s so hard to talk about things like this. He knows his hyungs care about him. He knows they’ll always listen. But there’s still that little voice in the back of his mind that makes it difficult, that makes him second-guess whether his feelings are worth voicing at all.

Still, he forces himself to ask, “Did you tell the others about it?” Because none of them have mentioned anything, not Seokjin, not Hoseok, not even Jimin or Taehyung, who are usually the first to pick up on things.

Namjoon nods. “We did. Because it’s important for all of us to communicate better with each other. We… haven’t been the best at it so far and i'm sorry about that. We're all learning together. We've been together for a long time so a lot of things go unsaid because we just know. But with you, we have to be careful. Because you're not a shifter and we keep forgetting that you don't know as much as we do.”

Yoongi hums in agreement. “We don’t want to leave things unsaid anymore. That's why it's important that you feel comfortable enough to share your worries with us. I know we haven't been welcoming to you when you first arrived but i need you to know that those feelings are long gone. I know it might make it difficult for you to trust us but we'll work hard for your trust. I swear it.”

Jungkook hesitates for a moment, eyes flicking between Namjoon and Yoongi before lowering to his lap. His fingers twist nervously in the hem of his sweater. “I… I trust you both,” he says softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Namjoon tilts his head, surprise flickering across his face before it melts into something warm and tender. “You do?”

Jungkook nods, cheeks flushed, still not quite meeting their eyes. “I-I know I haven’t known you that long, but… I just… I feel it. I always feel safe when I’m with you. And I know you care about me. Even if… even if it’s still hard for me to believe it sometimes.” He swallows, voice turning even quieter. “I care about you too. And I… I really do trust you.”

Yoongi’s expression softens instantly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re gonna make me emotional, pup,” he says, voice thick with fondness.

Namjoon chuckles gently, reaching out to brush his hand down Jungkook’s back. “Thank you for telling us. That means more than you know.”

Yoongi nods, leaning forward to gently nudge Jungkook’s knee with his own. “We’ll take care of you, always. That’s a promise. You’re ours to protect now.” 

And just like that, Jungkook's ears burn red, but he can’t help the shy smile that tugs at the corners of his lips.

Namjoon shifts slightly, his gaze steady. “Hoseok-hyung told us about your conversation with him earlier,” he says carefully. “About… how you feel. About us calling you 'ours'.”

Jungkook’s breath catches, his cheeks warming. He suddenly feels vulnerable in a way he hadn’t expected. He hadn’t really thought about the fact that Hoseok would tell them. But, of course, he had. It wasn’t a secret, not really.

Still, he nods, his voice quiet. “That’s good.”

Namjoon tilts his head. “Yeah?”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek before exhaling softly. “Yes . Because… I’m not good at saying things myself. I get anxious about it.” He looks down at his hands, fidgeting slightly. “It’s easier when someone else says it for me.”

Yoongi lets out a quiet sound, almost like a sigh, and before Jungkook can react, there’s a hand gently cupping the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair. It’s soothing, grounding. “You don’t have to force yourself, pup,” Yoongi murmurs, his voice so soft it sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine. “We’ll always listen. Even if it takes you time to say what you need to.”

Jungkook exhales slowly, letting himself relax into the touch. It’s reassuring, knowing that they don’t expect him to be perfect at this. That they don’t expect him to suddenly be able to bare all his thoughts and feelings just because they’ve asked.

Namjoon leans in slightly, his warmth pressing against Jungkook’s side. “We just want you to know that we’re here. Always, okay?”

Jungkook nods, something warm and steady settling in his chest. He knows that now. And even if it’s still hard to say the things he wants to say, he knows they’ll be patient. He knows they’ll wait.

And for now, that’s enough.

Jungkook barely has time to process the warmth of their reassurance before Namjoon shifts beside him, his voice quieter now, more careful. “We wanted to ask you something,” he says, tone dipping into something softer, more deliberate. Jungkook glances up at him, brows furrowing slightly, and Namjoon gives him a small, reassuring smile. “We were wondering if you’d feel comfortable sleeping in the nest with us tonight.”

Jungkook blinks, surprised by the question. He hadn’t really thought about it, but the moment Namjoon says it, he realizes just how much he wants to. How much he wants to be wrapped up in their warmth again, to feel the steady presence of their arms around him. He shifts slightly, gaze flickering between the two alphas.

Yoongi exhales quietly, rubbing at the back of his neck as his gaze lingers on Jungkook. “We didn't really talk about what happened,” he says softly, his voice careful, watching Jungkook for any sign of discomfort. “We didn’t ask back then because… we wanted to give you space. Let you come to us when you were ready.”

He glances down, fingers drumming absently against his knee, like he’s thinking hard. Searching for the right words.

“We let Minnie and Tae bring you into the nest because we thought it might comfort you,” he says softly, his voice lowering just a touch. “Because it seemed like what you needed in that moment. But…” He hesitates, a small frown tugging at his lips. “I don’t actually know if it helped. And the thought that it might not have, that we might’ve made you uncomfortable instead… I hate that.”

There's a vulnerability in the way he says it, like he’s second-guessing himself.

Jungkook’s throat tightens, a nervous heat creeping up his neck. Because the truth is, nothing had actually been wrong. And that’s exactly why he feels so embarrassed about it.

It wasn’t like a nightmare had startled him awake. It wasn’t fear or pain or any of the usual things that made his heart race. No, the only thing that had happened was that he’d seen them shirtless, and completely lost his mind.

And now here they were, worried sick about him, thinking that something terrible had happened, when in reality, he had just been overwhelmed by how… attractive they looked.

Jungkook feels the tips of his ears burn, and he ducks his head slightly. He doesn’t know how to explain this to them. It’s too mortifying. How does he even begin to say that his distress last night hadn’t been distress at all, just sheer, helpless flustered panic because his brain had short-circuited at the sight of his hyungs’ bare chests?

“I…” He swallows hard, fingers curling against his thighs. “I do want to sleep in the nest again.”

Namjoon’s warmth presses closer, his hand settling gently over Jungkook’s. Yoongi watches him carefully before lifting a hand and threading his fingers through Jungkook’s hair in slow, comforting motions.

“You don’t have to tell us anything you’re not ready to,” Yoongi murmurs, voice steady but quiet. “But we just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Namjoon nods, thumb rubbing soothing circles over Jungkook’s knuckles. “If something’s weighing on you, we just want to be able to help.”

Jungkook presses his lips together, exhaling shakily. The lump of embarrassment sits heavy in his chest, but he also knows that Namjoon and Yoongi aren’t going to stop worrying unless they get some kind of reassurance.

So, after a long moment, he takes a breath and forces himself to speak.

“It… It wasn’t anything bad,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on the floor. “I wasn’t upset or scared. I just…” His voice falters, and he feels his face heating up all over again. “I was just overwhelmed.”

Yoongi tilts his head slightly. “Overwhelmed?”

Jungkook lets out a soft, strangled sound, half groan, half whimper, as he covers his face with both hands, his fingers trembling slightly. His whole body curls inward, as if he could somehow disappear into the couch cushions. “I… I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he mumbles, voice so quiet it’s nearly swallowed by the space between them. “It’s so stupid, I don’t—”

He peeks out from behind his hands for a second, only to immediately hide again, cheeks blazing. “You… you walked in and I woke up. I-I saw you both and…” He shakes his head quickly, mortified beyond belief, his voice now a soft, breathy whisper. “And you weren’t wearing shirts and…”

The confession hangs there, fragile and barely spoken.

“I—I didn’t mean to stare,” Jungkook blurts, the words tumbling out in a breathless, panicked rush. His cheeks are burning, and he can’t even bring himself to look at them. His hands fidget at the sleeves of his oversized sweater, fingers twisting the fabric as he tries to vanish into the cushions. “I just… I got flustered. And then I couldn’t stop thinking about it and—”

He groans softly, the sound strangled by mortification. His whole body curls tighter, shoulders hunched, knees drawn up like he can hide from the sheer humiliation of what he’s just admitted.

“Please forget I said anything,” he mumbles into his arms, voice muffled and miserable. “I’m so embarrassed I think I’m gonna die…”

Silence.

Not the comforting kind. The kind that stretches, thick with tension, only this time, it’s not worry. It’s something else.

Curiosity prickles at the back of Jungkook’s neck, and he risks the tiniest peek through his fingers. Namjoon and Yoongi are staring at each other, eyes wide. Something wordless passes between them like a lightning strike.

“Oh,” Namjoon breathes. The sound is soft, but there’s a dangerous edge of delight curling through it.

Jungkook’s stomach flips. 

Namjoon turns back to him, eyes dark with realization and the barest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Oh,” he says again, lower this time.

Loaded. Teasing. A little too smug.

Yoongi exhales slowly beside him, his posture deceptively casual, but Jungkook sees the way his jaw flexes and his fingers twitch against his thigh. “So… you weren’t upset,” he says, voice as smooth as ever, but his gaze is sharper now. “You were just flustered.”

Jungkook lets out a pitiful whimper and curls tighter into himself. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore hyungs.”

But it’s far, far too late.

Namjoon is already leaning in, warm and solid and far too close, slipping an arm around Jungkook’s waist and drawing him gently against his side. His touch is secure but careful, like he's handling something precious. “That’s actually… kind of adorable, pup,” he murmurs, lips brushing the crown of Jungkook’s head. “You could’ve just said you thought we looked good.”

“I didn’t!” Jungkook blurts, voice cracking into a mortified squeak as he tries to squirm away. “I mean— I wasn’t— That’s not—!”

Namjoon huffs a low laugh, easily keeping him anchored. “You’re blushing so hard it’s a miracle you haven’t passed out.”

Yoongi finally breaks, grinning slow and wicked, though his eyes are too soft to match. He leans in until his thigh presses firmly against Jungkook’s. “So that’s what had you all panicked. You were so flustered that you couldn't even speak.”

“Stop,” Jungkook groans, hands flying up to hide his face. “Please. I’m actually going to die.”

“You’re not,” Yoongi says smugly, tugging his hands down with infuriating care. “You’re just embarrassed that we know.”

“And that we think it’s really, really cute,” Namjoon adds, nose nudging into Jungkook’s hair with open delight.

Jungkook shoots them a watery glare that lands somewhere between pout and plea. “You’re the worst.”

“Mmm. You know that's a lie,” Yoongi says, voice warm and low as he winks.

But beneath all the teasing, something shifts. There’s a weight to the way Namjoon’s arm tightens ever so slightly, a hush in Yoongi’s grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes anymore. The atmosphere softens, not with humor, but with something deeper. Relief. Affection. Maybe even awe.

Jungkook feels it in the steadiness of Namjoon’s hold, in the quiet reverence in Yoongi’s gaze. There's restraint there, barely leashed, like they’re holding back something overwhelming. Like he means more to them than he can possibly understand.

And despite everything, he lets himself lean in. Just a little. It makes Jungkook’s stomach flutter, and not in a bad way.

Yoongi’s voice drops to something quiet and sincere. “You know… we don’t think it’s silly. Being shy, I mean. Especially not around us. It’s kind of… endearing. Sweet.”

Namjoon nods against him. “You never have to be embarrassed about how you feel, pup. We like knowing what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

“I can’t believe I told you,” Jungkook whispers, horrified all over again. “I really thought I could take that secret to the grave…”

Yoongi snorts. “Well, you could have. But instead, you gifted us this beautiful memory.”

“I think I'm going to cry.”

Namjoon laughs softly. “No, you’re not. You’re gonna snuggle up right here and let us take care of you.”

The laughter fades. Slowly, gradually, like morning mist giving way to the sun. The warmth doesn’t disappear, but it changes, softens into something quieter. A stillness settles as the three of them sit close together, and Jungkook can feel it in the way Namjoon’s chest rises against his side, the way Yoongi’s hand lingers at his shoulder even after the teasing has stopped.

Namjoon exhales slowly. It's not the kind of sigh that comes from amusement, it’s the kind that carries weight.

“Can I tell you something Kookie?” he murmurs, voice low, barely above a whisper. “Something serious?”

Jungkook nods, tucked between them, suddenly nervous again.

“When you looked at us like that last night,” Namjoon says gently, “when you started crying and you couldn’t get your words out, I thought something was really wrong. You looked so… scared. Like you were hurt. Like maybe we’d done something to make you feel unsafe.”

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat.

Namjoon continues, his arms tightening around Jungkook’s waist, holding him steady. “You were crying, and your whole body was tense, and your eyes wouldn’t meet ours. My wolf, he went crazy, pup. I wanted to protect you from something, anything, but I didn’t even know what had happened. I didn’t know how to help you. I thought the nest was too much. That we were too much.”

Yoongi’s hand moves then, sliding from Jungkook’s shoulder to his upper back, slow and grounding. “I panicked,” he admits quietly. “We both did I think. It wasn’t just fear, it was instinct. You’re human, and there’s so much about you we still don’t understand. We’ve been trying to move slow, I thought we might have overstepped. That’s the last thing we ever want. To overwhelm you in a bad way. To make you feel cornered.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook blurts, the words trembling at the edges. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t mean to cry like that, I didn’t mean to make you worry—”

“Hey,” Namjoon interrupts gently, nuzzling into the back of his hair. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to cry. You’re allowed to feel things. But we need to understand what’s going on inside you so we can protect you the right way.”

Jungkook swallows thickly. His voice is small when he speaks again. “I was embarrassed. Really embarrassed. I didn’t mean to look like that, but it all hit me at once. You were both there, and I got flustered and then panicked and then— I started thinking you’d be mad, or that I’d made things weird, and then I just couldn’t talk.”

Yoongi’s thumb rubs a slow, steady circle against his back.

“And when I panic like that,” Jungkook adds, quieter now, “sometimes I can't speak. It doesn’t happen a lot, but when it does, it’s like… I want to say something, but the words get stuck. Like they’re trapped in my throat. I just freeze.”

Namjoon and Yoongi are quiet for a few moments, just long enough to make Jungkook wonder if he’s said too much.

But then Yoongi hums, something deep and thoughtful in the sound. “That’s good to know,” he says, voice warm with understanding. “Thank you for telling us.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees, lips brushing against the crown of Jungkook’s head. “We can work with that. We’re pack. If that’s how your body reacts when you’re overwhelmed, then we want to know. Not so we can fix you, but so we can take care of you better.”

Jungkook feels something tighten in his chest, then ease. The tension that’s been curled like a knot inside him starts to loosen.

“We won’t push you to talk when you can’t,” Yoongi says softly. “And we won’t misread the signs next time. But if you ever feel that way again, flustered, scared or confused, just let us hold you, yeah? Even if you can’t say it. We’ll understand.”

“Okay,” Jungkook whispers, the word trembling but whole. "I must’ve looked like such a mess… this is so embarrassing."

Namjoon shifts behind him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder through the fabric of his sweater. "For the record,” he adds, voice low and rumbling with affection, “you looked pretty. Even when you were a mess of blushes and panic. I just wish we’d realized what it meant sooner.”

Jungkook makes a wounded noise into the blanket and hides his face, but this time, it’s not out of fear. His face is burning, but his chest feels warm too, full, light, safe.

Next time, he won’t run from the feeling.

Jungkook sighs, defeated, and slumps against Namjoon’s chest with a pitiful groan. “...Can we just go to sleep now?”

“Of course, pup,” Namjoon says, wrapping both arms around him, cocooning him in warmth. “But just so you know, now that we do know you think about us like that, we’re probably never going to forget.”

Jungkook squeaks, voice cracking with renewed horror.

Yoongi grins, eyes sharp and gleaming in the low light. “Don’t worry, Jungkookie. We’ll behave.”

Namjoon and Yoongi both chuckle, but they don’t tease him anymore. Instead, Namjoon squeezes him one last time before standing, offering Jungkook a hand. “Come on, pup,” he says warmly. “Let’s go to bed.”

Jungkook huffs but takes it, letting them lead him toward the nest. And as embarrassing as all of this has been, he knows, deep down, that he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

—

The nest is warm. Jimin and Taehyung are already curled up together, their bodies tangled in a familiar way that speaks of years of comfort and trust. Jungkook hesitates at the edge, lingering close to Namjoon and Yoongi, reluctant to disturb the peaceful scene. But before he can fully settle in, he tugs lightly on Yoongi’s sleeve, voice dropping to a quiet murmur.

“I still need to change,” he admits, feeling a little sheepish. The oversized sweater he’s wearing is comfortable, but he doesn’t like sleeping in his day clothes.

Yoongi’s gaze flickers over him, assessing, before he gives a small nod. “Wait here,” he says, disappearing into the darkness of the room for only a moment before returning with a set of clothes. A pair of loose shorts and a soft, oversized shirt, both belonging to him, if the scent is anything to go by.

Jungkook takes the clothes without thinking, his fingers curling around the soft fabric like it’s something precious. Before he can stop himself, he lifts them to his face and breathes in deep. The scent of Yoongi clings to every thread, warm, earthy sandalwood laced with the subtle sweetness of cinnamon lingering at the edges. It’s grounding and familiar, and something in his chest loosens at the scent, some quiet ache he hadn’t realized was there easing into stillness.

When he glances up again, Yoongi is watching him. His gaze is steady, eyes crinkled with something gentle and amused. His lips pull into the softest smile.

“Cute,” Yoongi murmurs, his voice rich like velvet, fond in a way that makes Jungkook’s heart skip.

Jungkook blinks, startled. “Huh?”

But before the confusion can settle, Yoongi leans in. Slowly. Deliberately. Like there’s no rush, no hesitation, like this is the most natural thing in the world. He tilts his head and presses the lightest kiss to Jungkook’s temple, a brush of warmth that lingers longer than it should.

Jungkook goes completely still.

His breath catches, brain stuttering, body frozen as the heat from Yoongi’s lips blooms across his skin like fire. It spreads fast, curling through his chest, his stomach, the tips of his ears, everything tingling and weightless and breathless.

That had been a kiss. Yoongi kissed him.

His heart might actually stop.

And the alpha just leans back with a lazy little smile like he hadn’t just wrecked him. “You’re really cute,” he says, head tilting. “Burying your face in my clothes like that… Really adorable.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to argue, to deny, to say something, anything, but nothing comes out except a high, mortified noise.

Yoongi grins wider, satisfied. “You’re blushing.”

“I am not,” Jungkook lies, clearly blushing.

“You’re pink all the way to your ears,” Yoongi adds, pleased, like he’s cataloging it for later.

And Jungkook thinks, with his heart thundering, his cheeks burning and Yoongi looking at him like that, that he might never recover. Jungkook stares at him, unable to form words, his heart slamming against his ribs like a caged bird.

Namjoon, who has been watching the whole thing unfold with barely concealed amusement, chuckles lowly. “I think you broke him,” he says, eyes crinkling as he reaches out to ruffle Jungkook’s hair.

Yoongi hums, clearly unbothered. “He’ll be fine,” he says, smirking just slightly. “Come on, pup. Hurry up and change so we can sleep.”

Jungkook swallows, forcing himself to move. His hands clutch the clothes Yoongi had given him like a lifeline as he scurries off to change, cheeks burning.

This was the closest Yoongi had ever been to him. And it had been over so fast, so fleeting, yet Jungkook already knows.

He’s never going to forget it.

Jungkook barely has a moment to recover from the flustered mess Yoongi has left him in before the door to the nesting room opens again. His head snaps up, heart already racing, and when he sees who it is, he nearly forgets how to breathe.

Seokjin and Hoseok step inside, both of them now dressed in their sleep clothes, their relaxed postures making it clear that they’re ready to settle in for the night. Hoseok, as always, carries himself with easy warmth, his presence slipping seamlessly into the comfort of the nest. But Jungkook barely registers him. His eyes are glued to Seokjin.

It’s ridiculous, he knows it is, but his brain suddenly decides that now is the perfect time to freak out.

Seokjin looks soft. Cozy. His usually neat hair is slightly tousled, his skin glowing in the dim light. He’s wearing a loose, oversized sweater, and a pair of sleep shorts that show off his long legs. He looks effortlessly beautiful, and Jungkook feels his entire body lock up because—

That’s the man he’s going on a date with tomorrow.

Excitement and nervousness collide in his chest at the thought. It had been thrilling, earlier, when he’d told Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok that he wanted to plan something for Seokjin. He had been filled with determination, eager to do something special for him, something that would make him smile. But now, standing here, the weight of it all suddenly settles on him.

He’s going on a date.

With Seokjin.

He’s going to spend the whole day with him, just the two of them.

And right now, they’re about to sleep in the same bed.

Jungkook feels heat creep up his neck, curling behind his ears. It’s not like they haven’t slept near each other before, he slept in the pack nest the night before after all. But this feels different. His mind won’t let him ignore the way his heart flutters when Seokjin glances at him, offering a soft, pretty smile as he steps further into the room.

Jungkook swallows hard and quickly looks away, his fingers tightening around the hem of the shirt Yoongi gave him.

He likes them. He knows he does. And even though it’s still difficult to believe sometimes, he also knows that they like him back.

He’s going on a date with Seokjin.

He’s about to sleep in the same bed as Seokjin.

And Seokjin looks so effortlessly gorgeous that Jungkook feels like he’s about to combust.

He curls his toes against the soft bedding beneath him, pressing his lips together, trying to will his racing heart to calm down. But it’s no use. The giddy feeling bubbling in his chest refuses to be ignored.

Tomorrow is going to be a big day.

But first, he has to survive the night.

The beta doesn’t seem to notice Jungkook’s predicament, or maybe he does and simply chooses to save him the embarrassment. Because instead of commenting on the way Jungkook is practically vibrating with nervous energy, Seokjin just steps forward, effortlessly pulling him into a hug.

Jungkook barely has time to react before he finds himself wrapped in warmth. Seokjin’s arms encircle him with a familiarity that makes something in his chest settle, quieting the storm of his thoughts. He smells like something sweet and soothing, like jasmine mixed with honey tea and the lingering scent of the warm kitchen, and Jungkook instinctively leans in, pressing closer as he melts into the embrace.

It feels so right to be held like this.

Jungkook has never been the type to seek out comfort so openly, but with his hyungs, it’s becoming easier. And with Seokjin, like this, gentle, steady, always exuding the kind of warmth that makes Jungkook feel safe, he doesn’t even have to think about it. He just lets himself be held.

Seokjin presses a soft kiss to the top of his head before pulling back, his hands lingering on his shoulders. “You smell good Kookie,” he murmurs, smiling fondly.

Jungkook blinks up at him, confused. “I do?”

Seokjin hums. “Mmh. Of course, your scent always smells good, but that’s not what I meant.” He tilts his head slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “I meant the mix of your scent and Yoongi’s.”

Jungkook freezes for half a second before glancing down at the sleep clothes Yoongi had given him. The oversized shirt, the loose shorts, both carrying the alpha's scent, both undeniably his.

Seokjin chuckles, his voice dropping into something more teasing as he leans in, murmuring just beside Jungkook’s ear. “It makes you look soft.” His breath is warm against Jungkook’s skin, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine. “Yoongi probably just wanted to stake his claim on you. It’s an alpha thing.”

Jungkook’s face ignites in an instant, heat flooding from the tips of his ears all the way down his neck. He doesn’t even know what to say to that, doesn’t know how to react to the idea of Yoongi—quiet, sharp-tongued, ever-composed Yoongi—deliberately marking him in that subtle way.

Before he can even begin to form a response, a voice drifts over from the nest.

“I heard that.”

Jungkook whips his head around, only to find Yoongi already curled up comfortably in the bedding, watching them with one brow raised.

Seokjin just grins, completely unfazed. “Good.”

Jungkook, on the other hand, feels like his soul is about to leave his body. Seokjin hums as he pulls away slightly, still close enough that he can feel the warmth radiating from him. His hands stay gentle on Jungkook’s shoulders as he speaks.

“All of us will be busy tomorrow,” he says casually.

Jungkook’s heart stops.

For a moment, everything in him seizes up. Because—no, Seokjin can’t be busy. The omegas had said he was free. Jungkook had planned everything, spent so much time thinking about the little details, imagining how it would go. He was ready. He had finally built up the courage to do this, to plan something for Seokjin instead of just being on the receiving end of his endless affection.

Panic starts to claw at his chest, rising fast, but before it can fully take hold, Seokjin’s fingers reach up to stroke his cheek, grounding him instantly. The touch is soft, reassuring.

“Hey,” Seokjin murmurs, his voice a soothing lull. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m free.”

Jungkook blinks up at him, breath catching.

“I just have to help the omegas with something in the morning,” Seokjin explains. “So I won’t be home until lunchtime.” His thumb brushes over Jungkook’s cheekbone, his smile warm and fond. “Don’t panic if no one else is here when you wake up, okay? I’ll come back as soon as I can, and then we can spend the rest of the day together.”

Jungkook’s panic melts away in an instant, replaced by something lighter, something that makes his stomach feel full of warmth.

Because yes, he had planned a date. And yes, he had wanted to make it special for Seokjin. But what really makes his chest flutter isn’t the date itself, it’s the way Seokjin said it, so effortlessly, like spending the day together was the most natural thing in the world. Like it wasn’t just something Jungkook had arranged for him, but something they were both excited about. Like it was theirs, from the very beginning.

The beta wants to spend the day with him. He doesn’t even know there’s a date planned, and still, he’s excited. Just at the thought of being together, just the two of them. No expectations, no reason beyond wanting to. And the way Seokjin said it, so easily, so naturally, without a hint of hesitation, makes Jungkook’s heart flutter more than any carefully planned surprise ever could.

Jungkook feels his lips curl into a soft smile before he even realizes it, his nerves replaced with excitement. “Okay,” he murmurs. “I’ll wait for you, hyung.”

Seokjin grins, squeezing his cheek gently before pulling back.

Jungkook shifts on his feet, suddenly shy. “I’m happy we’ll get to spend the afternoon together.”

Seokjin’s expression softens. “Me too, Jungkookie.”

And just like that, Jungkook feels like he could melt.

Hoseok’s fingers curl around Jungkook’s hand, his grip warm and reassuring as he gently tugs him toward the nest. It’s such a simple touch, yet something about it sends a wave of warmth through Jungkook’s entire body. It reminds him of that day, when Hoseok had been the first to claim him, the first to sink his teeth into Jungkook’s skin and mark him as his, even before Jungkook fully understood what it meant.

And now, as Hoseok’s touch lingers, Jungkook realizes just how much he’s missed it.

Because even though he adores all of them, even though he’s grown closer to each of his hyungs in his own way, it had been Hoseok first. Hoseok, with his easy smiles and warm laughter. Hoseok, who had held him so gently in the aftermath, tracing soothing circles into his skin as he whispered soft reassurances.

Jungkook hasn’t felt Hoseok’s touch as much since then, and now, suddenly, it’s all he wants. The kiss they shared earlier had stirred something in him, but it wasn’t enough. Not even close.

Hoseok’s claiming bite is still visible on his neck. It’s beginning to fade, just a little bit, but the thought of it disappearing entirely makes something in Jungkook's chest tighten. He doesn’t want it to fade. Doesn’t want to stop smelling like Hoseok. Doesn’t want to stop being his.

Impulsively, he looks up at the beta beside him, voice small but certain. “Hyung… can I sleep next to you?”

Hoseok blinks, momentarily caught off guard, before his entire face softens into a look of pure affection. His grip on Jungkook’s hand tightens just slightly, like he’s holding something precious. Then he coos, his voice dripping with warmth.

“Ahh, Jungkookie, you’re too cute,” he murmurs, squeezing his hand. “Of course you can sleep next to me.” His lips curve into a teasing grin. “I’ll sleep next to you every night if that’s what you want.”

Jungkook chuckles at that, shaking his head. “That’s not possible,” he says, eyes glinting with quiet amusement. “Jimin-hyung and Taehyung-hyung… they’d probably be jealous. If I, um… slept next to you. Every night.”

Hoseok laughs, a soft and melodious sound, before his gaze turns fond. “Oh, they’d be jealous, that's for sure,” he agrees. “But not like that.”

Jungkook tilts his head, curious.

“They wouldn’t be jealous of you,” Hoseok continues, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “They’d be jealous that I get to be the one sleeping next to you and not them.”

The words make Jungkook’s heart stutter in his chest, a flush creeping up his neck. He glances toward the nest, where Jimin and Taehyung are already curled up together, peaceful in their slumber. 

“Then,” he murmurs, squeezing Hoseok’s hand in return, “I’ll just have to sleep next to them tomorrow.”

Hoseok grins, tugging him gently into the nest. “That sounds like a good plan, Jungkookie.”

Hoseok guides him into the nest, his touch gentle but certain, and Jungkook settles into the soft layers of blankets, instinctively finding his place beside Taehyung. The omega is curled close to Jimin, their foreheads almost touching, the soft rise and fall of their breathing perfectly synchronized. There’s something so peaceful about the way they sleep, as if they are one, their scents intertwined in a way that makes Jungkook’s heart ache with something tender and warm.

But tonight, his attention isn’t on them.

Jungkook hesitates only for a moment before he turns onto his side, shyly facing Hoseok. The beta has already settled in comfortably, lying on his side as well, his golden eyes meeting Jungkook’s with something soft and knowing.

It’s different, looking at him like this. Up close, Jungkook can see the gentle slope of his nose, the fullness of his lips, the warmth in his gaze that makes jungkook's stomach flutter. His heart is already beating fast, but he tells himself that it’s fine, he can handle this much.

Seokjin settles in on the other side, facing Jimin, while Namjoon and Yoongi take what seems to be their usual spots at the far ends of the nest, Namjoon behind Hoseok, Yoongi behind Seokjin. It’s instinctive, the way they arrange themselves, the way their bodies naturally fall into a protective, comfortable formation. There’s something so deeply soothing about it, the way they all fit together.

A pack.

And just like that, the air shifts.

The atmosphere turns soft and peaceful, heavy with warmth and security. The sounds of quiet breathing, the steady rhythm of a pack settling down for the night, wraps around Jungkook like a lullaby. He’s safe. He’s home.

But despite the comfort, he wants to be closer.

Jungkook inches forward, just slightly, testing the space between them. He wants to bury himself against Hoseok’s warmth, to soak in his presence, but shyness holds him back. He doesn’t want to be too forward, doesn’t want to assume too much, so he hesitates, only creeping close enough that their breath mingles in the dim light.

Hoseok notices immediately.

A small chuckle leaves the beta’s lips, low and amused, his breath warm in the quiet space between them. “Jungkookie,” he murmurs, so soft it barely carries past the inches of air separating them. “You can come closer, you know.”

The words are spoken like a secret, just for him.

And Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice.

His heart stutters as he shifts, inching forward until their foreheads nearly touch. It’s careful, tentative, but there’s a pull between them he can’t resist. Their noses brush, their exhales mingling in the space they now share. The air feels warmer here, soaked in something tender.

Hoseok’s eyes are steady, filled with something soft and amused. He lifts a hand with the kind of care that makes Jungkook’s breath catch, fingers threading gently through his hair before trailing down to cradle his cheek. His thumb strokes over the soft skin beneath Jungkook’s eye, like he’s memorizing every detail all over again.

“I’ve missed this,” Hoseok whispers, voice barely more than a sigh against his skin. “I’ve missed being close to you ever since I claimed you.”

Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, his cheeks warming under Hoseok’s touch. The word claimed still sends a shiver down his spine, still fills him with something too big to name. He leans into the hand cupping his face, drawn to the warmth, the safety, the quiet affection in Hoseok’s every movement.

“I missed it too,” he says softly, and the words tremble with sincerity.

Hoseok smiles, leaning in just a little closer, as if even this small space between them is too much. 

Jungkook’s breath stutters.

He hadn’t expected Hoseok to say that, as if it’s just a simple truth. The beta had been the first to claim him, the first to stake his place in Jungkook’s life in a way that was so intimate. And though Jungkook has grown to care for them all, though he’s been surrounded by warmth and affection from each of his hyungs, he hasn’t forgotten how it felt that day, how his entire world had shifted with a single bite.

He swallows past the nervousness, feeling a sudden rush of boldness. “I-I missed you, hyung,” he confesses, voice soft.

Hoseok stills for half a second, then his face breaks into a slow, affectionate smile. “Is that why you wanted to sleep next to me tonight, hum?” he asks, his voice teasing but warm.

Jungkook nods, unable to meet his eyes for too long, but he doesn’t move away.

Hoseok’s fingers brush over his cheek again, a quiet hum leaving his lips. “Then I’m glad,” he murmurs, his voice holding something deeper, something more. “Because I missed you too, Jungkookie.”

Hoseok’s arms around him feel secure, and in that embrace, Jungkook feels not just warm, but steady, grounded. Like he can breathe easier. Like he’s safe, and maybe even a little braver because of it. It’s not the same reckless kind of bravery he used to rely on to survive, not the instinctive push to run, to endure, to hide.

This is something different. A quiet kind of courage, one that blooms in the warmth of a pack’s love, one that makes him want to give just as much as he receives.

Ever since he arrived here, surrounded by their care, he feels like he’s become a new version of himself. Or maybe he’s just discovering a part of himself that had always been buried beneath fear and uncertainty. He wants to be affectionate with them the same way they are with him, not just accepting their love but giving it in return.

Because they’re always the ones reaching out first, always the ones pulling him close, stroking his hair, murmuring soft praises and letting their scents envelop him in warmth. And though Jungkook knows they do it because they want to, because they enjoy it, he still wants to show them that he does too.

So before he can overthink it, before the shyness creeping in can stop him, he tilts his head up and closes the small space between them, pressing his lips to Hoseok’s in a soft, fleeting kiss.

It’s brief, just a gentle press, nothing deep or demanding, just the warm, chaste meeting of their lips. His heart stutters in his chest, his pulse thrumming in his ears, but the moment is so light, so sweet, that it feels entirely natural. Hoseok’s lips are soft against his, warm and pliant, and for a single breath, Jungkook just lets himself enjoy it.

But the second he begins to pull away, Hoseok moves.

A strong, steady hand cups the back of hiss head, cradling him in a touch so gentle it makes Jungkook’s breath hitch. He barely has a moment to process before Hoseok presses their lips together again, but this time, it’s different. This time, Hoseok kisses him.

It’s slow.

It’s soft.

It’s deliberate.

Jungkook melts into it before he even realizes he has, his fingers curling slightly into the fabric of Hoseok’s sleep shirt. The kiss is unhurried, like Hoseok is savoring it, like he’s taking his time to learn the shape of Jungkook’s lips against his own. There’s no rush, no urgency, just the slow, tender exploration of warmth and affection, a kiss that speaks without words.

Hoseok tilts his head slightly, deepening it just enough for Jungkook to feel the press of his lips more fully, the shape of his mouth slotting perfectly against Jungkook’s own. His thumb strokes Jungkook's neck, soothing and grounding, and he finds himself responding instinctively, parting his lips just slightly, letting himself be kissed.

It’s intoxicating, in a way he hadn’t expected.

Not because it’s overwhelming, but because it isn’t. Because Hoseok makes it so easy, so effortless, like kissing him is the most natural thing in the world. And for Jungkook, who has spent so much of his life uncertain, hesitant, afraid of doing the wrong thing, this feels like something he doesn’t need to question.

When they finally part, Jungkook feels lightheaded, his lips tingling, his heart hammering against his ribs. His face is warm, probably flushed, and Hoseok looks just as dazed, though his lips curve into a fond smile.

The quiet hush of the nest is broken by Namjoon’s dry voice from the other side.

“If you keep going, you’re going to wake the omegas,” he murmurs, amusement laced beneath his words. “Jungkook’s scent is already getting sweeter.”

Jungkook’s face flames at that, and he squeaks, burying his face into Hoseok’s chest in embarrassment. He hadn’t even realized his scent had reacted, but of course it had, of course his body would give him away like that.

Hoseok, however, only laughs, warm and unbothered. His hand moves to stroke through Jungkook’s hair, keeping him close as he grins. “Or maybe,” he muses playfully, “you’re just jealous that you’re not the one kissing Jungkookie.”

Namjoon scoffs, but there’s no real bite to it, just a knowing hum as he shifts behind Hoseok, getting comfortable again. “Go to sleep, Hobi.”

Hoseok only chuckles, pressing one last quick kiss to the top of Jungkook’s head before pulling him close once more. “Goodnight, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook, still hiding his face, lets out a tiny, muffled, “Goodnight.”

And though his heart is still racing, and his lips are still tingling, warmth spreads through him, lulling him toward sleep.

 

--

 

Jungkook stirs in the nest for what feels like the hundredth time that night, his excitement making it nearly impossible to stay asleep. Every time he dozes off, he wakes again, heart fluttering with anticipation. He keeps picturing Seokjin’s face, his warm smile, the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the soft, fond way he always looks at him.

It makes his stomach twist pleasantly, his mind spinning with thoughts of the day ahead. Seokjin doesn’t know yet, he has no idea that he's planned something special just for him. That thought alone makes Jungkook’s nerves and excitement battle for dominance, his body thrumming with energy despite the late hour.

When he finally wakes properly, the nest is still peaceful, wrapped in the soft hush of early morning. He’s in Hoseok’s arms, much like he had been when he first fell asleep. The beta holds him close, his warmth soothing, his scent is comforting. Jungkook lets himself relax for a moment, listening to the quiet, feeling the steady rise and fall of Hoseok’s chest beneath his cheek.

The first to stir is Yoongi, who shifts carefully before slipping out of the nest. Even in the dim light, his movements are fluid and precise. He pauses when he sees him awake but doesn’t say anything, only offering him a soft look before stretching with a quiet sigh. As he steps out of the nest, he nudges Namjoon awake, murmuring something low and warm, and together, the two alphas tuck everyone in before leaving for the day.

Half an hour later, Jimin and Taehyung wake. Jungkook doesn’t realize it at first, too lost in the warmth surrounding him, but then there’s a quiet giggle, a soft coo of, “Oh, look at him, Minnie.” He peeks one eye open just in time to see Jimin and Taehyung crouched beside him, their eyes twinkling with mischief and affection.

“You’re so cute sleeping in Hobi-hyung’s arms like this,” Jimin whispers, brushing some of Jungkook’s messy hair away from his face. Taehyung hums in agreement before leaning down, pressing a warm kiss to his lips. Jimin follows a moment later, and then, much to Hoseok’s still-sleeping surprise, they both kiss the beta’s cheek.

Jungkook grumbles softly, cheeks heating, but he doesn’t protest when they wake Seokjin next, drawing the eldest into their soft-spoken conversation. The three of them talk quietly about their plans for the day, Seokjin still unaware that part of those plans involve Jungkook surprising him.

Soon, though, the nest empties, leaving Jungkook alone with Hoseok. He doesn’t move right away. Instead, he just watches the beta, eyes tracing the delicate planes of his face, the golden glow of his skin in the soft morning light. Hoseok really is beautiful, the kind of beauty that’s effortless, like sunlight filtering through leaves or the golden hue of autumn in full bloom. The gentle rise and fall of his breath, the way his hair falls messily over his forehead, the peaceful expression he wears as he sleeps, it all makes Jungkook’s heart clench with quiet affection.

For a moment, he simply lets himself exist in the quiet, soaking in the warmth of the morning, the steady comfort of Hoseok’s presence, and the excitement buzzing beneath his skin at the thought of what’s to come.

Today is going to be special, he’ll make sure of it.

The quiet hum of morning still lingers in the den, a soft, golden warmth settling over Jungkook as he remains nestled beside Hoseok. The world outside is slowly stirring, but here, within the safety of their shared nest, time feels suspended, delicate, fragile, like it belongs to them alone.

Jungkook doesn’t move, not yet, unwilling to disturb the peaceful moment, but his gaze drifts once more to Hoseok’s sleeping form. His hyung looks so serene like this, face relaxed, breath deep and even, bathed in the gentle glow of the early sun filtering through the window.

But what truly catches Jungkook’s attention is Hoseok’s hair.

He’s seen it before, of course, Hoseok’s light brown curls always look soft, their loose waves giving him an almost ethereal look. But now, with the morning light casting a warm glow over him, Jungkook finds himself fixated on the streak of dark blond that runs through his hair. It stands out beautifully against the darker tones, a golden thread woven into warm brown silk, and it makes Jungkook’s fingers twitch with the urge to reach out.

He hesitates, not wanting to wake the older up, but the temptation is too strong. So, slowly, carefully, he lifts a hand and brushes his fingers through Hoseok’s curls.

The strands slip through his fingers like fine silk, even softer than he imagined, and he swears he feels his heart stutter at the sensation. He repeats the motion, keeping his touch featherlight, watching the way the curls give way beneath his fingertips before springing back into place. It’s mesmerizing, almost hypnotic, and before he realizes it, he’s been doing it for several minutes.

The scent of lilac grows stronger around him, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace, but Jungkook is too distracted to take notice. His gaze shifts for a moment, drawn away by a flicker of movement behind Hoseok, and in that fleeting second, he misses the way the beta’s lashes flutter, misses the moment his eyes slowly blink open, dark and still hazy with sleep.

It’s only when Jungkook absentmindedly lowers his hand that he realizes Hoseok is watching him.

He freezes, fingers hovering just above his hair, breath catching in his throat. “Hyung—”

Panic flutters in his chest as he quickly pulls his hand away, sitting up a little as he stammers, “I—I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I just—” He ducks his head, suddenly flustered. “I didn’t mean to wake you…”

For a moment, there’s silence. Then—

A soft whine.

Jungkook blinks, looking back up just as Hoseok shifts closer, his arms tightening slightly around him as he buries his face against the younger’s shoulder. His voice is still thick with sleep, rough and warm as he murmurs, “Why’d you stop?”

Jungkook’s lips part, surprise flashing across his face. “Huh?”

Hoseok peeks up at him through half-lidded eyes, a slow, drowsy smile pulling at his lips. “I like it,” he mumbles, voice tinged with something fond and teasing. “Feels nice.”

Jungkook swallows, feeling his cheeks warm as Hoseok shifts once more, nudging his head against his hand like a cat seeking affection. His heart does something strange, something soft and fluttering, before he huffs a small, breathless laugh.

“…Okay.”

He lifts his hand again, fingers threading back through Hoseok’s curls, and the beta hums in approval, melting against him like he was made to fit there. And for a while, Jungkook simply stays like that, running his fingers through golden-brown strands as the morning stretches on, his own heart thrumming in quiet, unspoken contentment.

Jungkook’s fingers move slowly, gliding through the soft waves of Hoseok’s hair, his touch light and rhythmic. He loses himself in the motion, watching the way the strands slip between his fingers, how the morning light catches the golden hues in the beta’s curls. Hoseok hums low in his throat, a pleased little sound, and presses further into his touch, clearly content to stay wrapped up in the warmth they share.

For a while, neither of them speaks, simply existing in the quiet intimacy of the moment. The scent of lilac lingers in the air, comforting and familiar, wrapping around Jungkook like a soft embrace. It makes him feel safe. Makes him want to stay like this forever.

But then Hoseok groans, shifting against him, and Jungkook feels the pout before he even sees it.

“I don’t want to leave,” the beta complains, voice thick with sleep. He buries his face against Jungkook’s shoulder, sighing dramatically. “I just want to stay here all day, letting you play with my hair.”

Jungkook huffs a small laugh, his fingers still moving through Hoseok’s curls. “Then don’t leave.”

A wistful sigh. “I wish,” Hoseok grumbles. “But I have to go teach the pups.” He tilts his head back, looking up at Jungkook with big, pleading eyes. “You're sure you don’t want to come steal me away?”

Jungkook smiles, shaking his head. “You like teaching them hyung.”

Hoseok groans again, but there’s no real frustration behind it. His body remains relaxed against Jungkook’s, and even as he stretches, preparing to get up, he doesn’t make much of an effort to move.

Jungkook hesitates for only a moment before murmuring, “We could do this another day. Just us. Spend the whole day cuddling in the nest.”

Hoseok stills, blinking up at him, and then a slow, beautiful smile spreads across his face. His eyes soften, something tender and warm sparking in them, and before Jungkook can process it, Hoseok is leaning in.

The kiss is soft. Sweet. Barely more than a brush of lips, but it steals the breath from Jungkook’s lungs nonetheless. His heart stutters, cheeks heating, and his entire body tenses at the unexpected intimacy. It’s not that he doesn’t like it, he does. He really, really does. But he’s still not used to it, still adjusting to the way his hyungs kiss him so easily, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Hoseok chuckles against his lips at his flustered state, and pulls back just enough to meet his eyes. His gaze flickers over Jungkook’s face, fond and teasing, before his fingers come up to stroke his cheek.

“You’re blushing,” he murmurs, thumb brushing against heated skin. “And your scent, ” He inhales deeply, eyes twinkling with amusement. “It got all sweet. It's cute.”

Jungkook swallows, already feeling warmth creep down his neck. He scowls lightly, turning his face away, but Hoseok only laughs more.

“That’s your fault,” Jungkook grumbles.

Hoseok beams. “I know.” He tilts his head, eyes still locked onto Jungkook’s face, voice dipping into something softer, more affectionate. “I like that it's my fault.”

Jungkook’s lips part just slightly, his heart stuttering in his chest for what feels like the hundredth time.

“I like that you blush when I kiss you,” Hoseok continues, his voice gentle but undeniably teasing. His fingers trace along Jungkook’s jaw, tilting his face just enough to see the full flush blooming across his skin. “I like that I make your scent go sweet.”

Jungkook exhales shakily, feeling his entire body warm under Hoseok’s gaze. He isn’t sure what to say, isn’t sure how to respond to the way the beta looks at him. But Hoseok doesn’t press for a response. He only smiles, tapping a playful finger against his nose before finally, reluctantly, pulling away.

“I really have to go now,” Hoseok sighs dramatically, flopping back onto the nest for a moment longer. “But I’m holding you to that promise, pup.” His grin is wide, fond. “A whole day, just the two of us.”

Jungkook nods, heart still fluttering.

Hoseok finally forces himself up, stretching his arms above his head, but before he leaves, he leans down once more, pressing another soft, fleeting kiss to Jungkook’s forehead.

And just like that, he’s gone, leaving Jungkook in the nest with a racing heart and the lingering warmth of Hoseok’s touch.

Notes:

Hey guys!!

I honestly cannot with Jungkook 😭 He plans this whole sweet date for Seokjin, then immediately starts spiraling over it, even though we all know Seokjin’s going to absolutely love it. Apparently, Jungkook is the only one who still has doubts, haha.

Also… I’m so weak for HopeKook 😭💛 I mean, I’m soft for all of them, but those two?? Too cute. You just know Hoseok was giggling internally the moment Jungkook decided to kiss him. (Like… who wouldn’t??)

Vmin are adorable too, helping Jungkook out like that. They’re honestly acting like they’re the ones going on a date with him. I swear Jin probably thinks they’re up to something mischievous 😅

Now listen, the alphas seriously need to either drop the whole “hyung” act or just make up their minds, because the mixed signals? Out of control 😩 Poor Jungkook is probably so confused. Like, can’t they take a page out of Vmin’s book? At least they know how to make their intentions obvious 😂

That said, I get it. They probably feel super responsible as the alphas of the pack and don’t want to cross any lines. But still.

You just know they were over the moon when they found out Jungkook was flustered over their bare chests 😭 Like please, if that were me, my ego would skyrocket to dangerous heights. Honestly, I hope this is the confirmation they needed to finally act on their feelings because, sirs, you are taking way too long 😤

Anyway, I’m so sorry for the long wait 🥺 I really meant to post much earlier, but things got a little hectic on my end.
Going back to work after five whole months had me super stressed, and on top of that, I had to move apartments, which is always a whole ordeal.
And just when I thought I could breathe, my yearly training came up 😮‍💨 Even though it’s routine by now, it still manages to stress me out every single time 🙃

But! I finally managed to finish editing this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed it 💕 I know it’s not the date you might’ve been expecting, but I promise that next chapter is Jungkook and Seokjin's date✨

That said, I’ll be away for work for around ten days, and I never bring my laptop with me, so I won’t be able to upload until I’m back, sorry in advance!

I hope you’ve all been doing well, and I’m wishing you a wonderful weekend! 💖🌷

Chapter 46: Synchrony

Summary:

Jungkook gets ready for his date with Jin

Jungkook waits until he hears the front door click shut, the faint sound of Hoseok’s footsteps fading into the distance before he dares to move. He lifts his head cautiously, listening to make sure the house is truly empty before carefully untangling himself from the warmth of the nest. The blankets shift as he moves, and he pauses, glancing down at the little bundle of softness he’s leaving behind. 

With gentle hands, he smooths out the sheets, fluffing the pillows and adjusting the blankets just so, making sure the nest is just as comfortable as before. It feels like a small act of care, a quiet promise that when he returns tonight, he’ll still have this little haven to sink back into.

Once satisfied, he stretches, rolling his shoulders as he pads toward the kitchen. The house is still, the soft morning light filtering through the windows and casting a golden glow over the wooden floors. He expects it to be earlier, but when his eyes flick up to the clock, he realizes it’s already ten. Later than he thought but there’s still plenty of time.

As he steps into the kitchen, something catches his eye. A small piece of paper sits on the counter, neatly folded, with his name scrawled across the front in familiar handwriting. Jungkook picks it up, unfolding it with curious fingers, and immediately, a smile tugs at his lips.

It’s from Jimin and Taehyung.

Their handwriting is slightly uneven, as if they were both trying to write at the same time, but the message is unmistakably warm,

 

“Kookie!

Good luck on your date! We know it’s going to go perfectly! Don’t worry about a thing, we’ll keep Jin-hyung busy until noon. We even picked out the perfect outfit for you! It’s in the guest room wardrobe. Had to hide it there so Jin-hyung wouldn’t see and ruin the surprise. Have fun, okay?Also, don’t burn the kitchen down!

Minnie and Taetae”

 

Jungkook huffs out a small laugh, shaking his head fondly. The omegas really are cute. Not only had they been supportive from the moment he told them about his plan, but they had even gone out of their way to help. The warmth in his chest expands and knowing they’re happy for him, that they’re rooting for him, makes the nervous excitement in his stomach settle into something lighter.

Folding the note carefully, he sets it aside before turning to the task at hand. The first thing he does is head to the fridge, pulling the doors open and scanning the shelves. Everything is neatly organized thanks to Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung’s help yesterday. They had stayed with him, insisting on pre-chopping and preparing ingredients so he wouldn’t have to stress over it in the morning. Jungkook had protested at first, not wanting them to do all that work for him, but they had simply ignored him, chatting and giggling as they diced vegetables like it was just another bonding activity.

He pulls out the ingredients one by one, setting them down carefully on the counter. The scent of fresh herbs fills the air as he arranges everything within reach, the marinated beef, the sliced vegetables, the neatly measured portions of rice and broth. He runs his fingers over the wooden cutting board, feeling the cool surface under his fingertips before grabbing a knife.

He takes a deep breath. This is it. The first step to making this a perfect date. And he wants it to be perfect.

Jungkook rolls up his sleeves, determined to make this meal special. The omegas had been clear, Seokjin doesn’t care for extravagant, overly complicated dishes. What matters to him is the thought behind them, the effort put into making something warm and comforting. That’s why they had all agreed on something simple but satisfying, a hearty vegetable soup to ward off the lingering winter chill, steamed rice, and a few carefully prepared side dishes.

Jungkook had thought about it long after the conversation ended, lying awake in the nest this morning when sleep had evaded him. He wants to add something extra, a little surprise, something sweet to end the meal on a good note. But dessert is tricky. He had never learned to bake, never had the luxury of playing around in a kitchen. His entire experience with food comes from stolen scraps and hurried meals back in his old village, where survival took precedence over anything else. There had been no time for learning proper techniques, no patient hands guiding him through recipes.

But he still wants to try.

First, the soup. That should be easy enough.

Jungkook moves with purpose, only to freeze almost immediately. His eyes flick across the kitchen, scanning the vast cabinets and counters, and that’s when he realizes, he doesn’t actually remember where everything is. His hyungs had been so efficient when they helped him prepare yesterday, grabbing ingredients before he even had to ask, that he hadn’t really paid attention to where things had come from. And now, standing alone in the quiet kitchen, he’s completely lost.

He exhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck before setting his jaw in determination.

There’s only one thing to do.

He spends the next few minutes methodically opening every cupboard and drawer, taking quick mental notes of what’s inside. Spices, neatly arranged in small jars, dried goods lined up in rows, stacks of bowls and plates in one section, wooden utensils in another. The kitchen is well-stocked, far more organized than anything he’s ever seen before, but its sheer size makes it overwhelming. He almost laughs at himself. Who knew finding a simple pot would be this much of a challenge?

Finally, after rummaging through the lower cabinets for what had felt like hours, his fingers close around a pot large enough for the soup. It’s heavy, sturdy, and perfect for what he needs. He hauls it up onto the stove with a soft clatter, then turns toward the large water jug resting on the counter. Carefully, he fills the pot, the steady stream of water echoing softly in the quiet room before he sets it onto the burner.

The first step is done.

Now, onto the rest.

Jungkook carefully tips the pre-chopped vegetables into the pot, watching as they splash gently into the water. Carrots, radishes, onions, and leafy greens bob to the surface before sinking slowly, colors swirling beneath the clear liquid. He gives the mixture a quick stir with a wooden spoon before placing the lid over the pot, satisfied that the first step is done. But when he reaches to turn on the stove, he stops short.

A problem.

Jungkook stares at the stove, waiting for his body to move on instinct, waiting for the knowledge to come to him naturally. But nothing does. He has no idea how to turn it on.

His eyes dart to the counter, where the note from Jimin and Taehyung still sits. He picks it up again, scanning the playful handwriting, the cute encouragements about his date, until he reaches a very specific line.

‘Also, don’t burn the kitchen down.’

Jungkook swallows. That… probably means fire is involved. Which makes sense. He’s seen Seokjin cook before, seen him feeding wood into the stove, the soft orange glow flickering behind the iron grate. But knowing that in theory and actually doing it himself are two very different things.

He glances down at the lower section of the stove. As expected, there’s a small iron door built into its base, likely the fire chamber. Next to the stove, there’s a neat stack of chopped firewood, some crumpled paper, and a box of matches. It’s all very straightforward. Logically, he understands what he needs to do.

That doesn’t make it any less terrifying.

Fire is unpredictable. It has never felt like something safe to him, never something he’s been allowed to handle. His only experience with it was sneaking around the village bonfires at night, hoping to steal a few moments of warmth without being noticed, or hurriedly lighting makeshift fires in the forest when he was starving and desperate. He’s done it before, but it never stops being nerve-wracking.

Still, he has no choice.

Gritting his teeth, Jungkook kneels and carefully places a few small logs inside the fire chamber, stacking them as neatly as his shaking hands allow. He tucks a handful of paper between the wood, making sure there’s enough to catch fire easily. He takes a deep breath and picks up the matchbox.

The first match snaps between his fingers. His heart jumps.

The second one lights properly, a tiny flickering flame illuminating the tips of his fingers. But he panics, tossing it inside too quickly. The flame goes out before it even touches the paper.

Jungkook lets out a frustrated breath. He steadies himself, trying to ignore the nervousness crawling up his spine. The third match catches, burning steadily at the tip. This time, he forces himself to move slower, carefully lowering the flame to the paper.

For a second, nothing happens.

Then, the fire spreads.

The dry paper crackles as the flame hungrily consumes it, licking up toward the logs. Jungkook barely breathes as he watches the fire take hold, growing stronger by the second. The wood begins to catch, and within moments, a steady flame is burning in the stove.

Jungkook quickly closes the iron door, keeping the fire safely contained. He sits back, exhaling shakily. His hands are still trembling a little, but he did it. The stove is lit. The soup can finally start cooking.

Pushing himself up, he dusts his hands on his pants and steps back toward the counter. Now, it’s time to work on the rice and side dishes.

Jungkook wipes his hands on a kitchen towel and turns toward the ingredients waiting on the counter. The soup is simmering now, a gentle bubbling noise filling the space, and the warmth from the stove takes the morning chill out of the air. With the soup cooking, he moves on to the side dishes.

Most of them don’t need to be cooked, which makes his job easier. He arranges a few small plates on the counter, thinking carefully about what Seokjin might enjoy. There’s a bowl of fresh spinach seasoned with sesame oil and a pinch of salt, a dish of lightly pickled radish slices, crisp and slightly sweet. He also places a plate of kimchi beside them, the deep red color standing out against the other dishes.

For a touch of variety, he includes simple eggplant salad with soy sauce and garlic, as well as seasoned dried anchovies, which he had seen Seokjin eating before. He’s not sure if it’s a favorite, but it feels right to include it. A small dish of cubed tofu, lightly coated in a sweet and savory sauce, is next.

Some of the side dishes need to be cooked, so he sets those ingredients aside for later. Braised potatoes in a soy-based sauce, stir-fried mushrooms with green onions, and simple rolled omelets, those will taste better fresh, so he’ll make them closer to when Seokjin arrives.

With the cold dishes mostly done, he moves on to cooking rice.

That, at least, is somewhat familiar.

Jungkook picks up the bag of rice, running his fingers over the grains before scooping some into a large bowl. He carries it over to the water jug and fills the bowl, swirling the rice around with his fingers. The water quickly turns cloudy, the starch washing away. His grandmother had taught him to do this, ‘rinse until the water runs clear, never rush it’.

It’s one of the few warm memories from his childhood, something soft and golden amid all the cold. His mother had never liked cooking, never had the patience for it, but his grandmother had always let him help. Cooking rice had been his special job, a little task she’d entrusted to him while she worked on everything else. He remembers how proud it made him feel, how her gentle encouragement made the kitchen feel like the safest place in the world.

His mother had hated it. She would scold him for hovering near the stove, mutter that his grandmother was a bad influence. Jungkook had never understood why. His grandmother had been kind, always smiling at him, patting his cheeks, calling him sweet names that still linger somewhere in his memory.

But the village had never liked her. Neither had his parents, especially his father. People would look at her with expressions he hadn’t been able to name as a child, tight-lipped stares full of fear, contempt, or maybe even hate. It’s hard to tell now. Maybe it had been all three. When she passed, it was like something vital had gone with her. The kitchen felt empty without her hums and gentle laughter, and eventually, Jungkook stopped going near it at all.

It wasn’t until he refused to become a hunter that the villagers began to look at him the same way they used to look at her. At first, he thought maybe she had refused too, that maybe that was the reason they’d treated her like an outsider. But that didn’t make sense. Only men were allowed to be hunters, women weren’t permitted to hold power in their village. So what had she done to warrant their scorn?

The truth is, he doesn’t know. He realizes now that he never really knew much about her. His parents never spoke of her, not even to say whose mother she had been. And she herself had never shared much, not really. Apart from the bedtime stories. 

The wolf tales.

She used to tell him stories late into the night, about a wolf with dark brown fur that shimmered like gold in the moonlight, with gentle hazel eyes. Her voice always turned soft when she spoke of that wolf, so full of affection that Jungkook would dream of it, longing and mysterious.

She would stroke his hair before he fell asleep, and whisper that the stories were their little secret. That grownups wouldn’t understand. He never questioned it back then. But now, now he wishes he had. Wishes he had asked her something. Anything.

All he has left are fragments. Fleeting memories that taste like warm rice and sound like old lullabies. Bittersweet and hazy, but still, they make him smile. Even now.

Jungkook smiles softly to himself as he continues to wash the rice, draining the water and refilling it several times until the liquid remains mostly clear. Then, he transfers the rice into a pot, adding just enough water to cover it properly. It’s muscle memory at this point, he doesn’t even need to measure. He sets the pot on the stove, adjusting the fire to a steady, low heat.

With that taken care of, he turns back to the counter, eyeing the remaining ingredients. Since the side dishes are prepped, he decides to take a look at what’s available for a dessert.

Jungkook isn’t great at making sweet treats, but he wants to try. Seokjin deserves something thoughtful, something made just for him.

The truth is, he’s never actually made dessert before. Growing up, sweets were a rare luxury. Their village had little access to sugar or honey, anything indulgent was hard to come by. Fruit was the closest thing to sweet he ever really knew. He remembers tasting apple pie once, maybe twice, but even that had been a special occasion.

His grandmother, always gentle and quiet, had made him dessert in secret a few times when he was little. Simple things, baked apples dusted with cinnamon, thin crepes folded with jam or fresh fruit. Nothing fancy, but to Jungkook, they had tasted like magic. Sweet, warm, and made with love.

Those memories linger now, soft around the edges, and maybe that’s why he’s so determined. He wants to recreate even a little bit of that feeling, for Seokjin.

He opens a few cabinets, checking the pantry. There’s honey, some fresh fruits, a bag of rice flour, and even a small jar of what looks like red bean paste. He tilts his head, considering his options.

Maybe he can make something simple, something warm and sweet to end the meal on a good note.

Jungkook hums under his breath as he measures out the ingredients for crepes, moving with a careful precision that comes naturally when he’s concentrating. He remembers watching his grandma make them. They don’t seem to require much, just flour, milk, a little sugar, and eggs. Simple, comforting, and easy to pair with different toppings.

Once the batter is smooth and lump-free, he sets it aside and turns to the stove. He picks out a flat pan, one that seems perfect for what he needs, and places it over the fire. A small pat of butter sizzles as it melts, coating the surface in a thin, golden layer. When the pan is ready, he carefully pours some of the batter, tilting it just right to spread it evenly.

The first crepe is always a test, but it turns out well enough, golden brown around the edges, thin and soft. Encouraged, Jungkook continues, stacking each one neatly on a plate as he works. The kitchen fills with the light scent of warm butter and cooked batter, blending with the heartier aroma of the simmering soup.

Speaking of which, he glances toward the pot, watching the steam curl from beneath the lid. The vegetables must be soft by now, but he still hasn’t figured out how he’s going to mix everything properly. He bites his lip, deciding that’s a problem for later.

Once the last crepe is done, he sets the plate aside, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. But when he catches sight of the clock, his stomach drops, it’s already eleven. He still has an hour, but there's a lot left to do.

With renewed urgency, he moves on to the remaining side dishes. The braised potatoes go into a pan with soy sauce, garlic, and a touch of sweetness, filling the air with their rich, savory scent. He stir-fries the mushrooms with green onions and a hint of sesame oil, the fragrance making his mouth water. Then, he cracks a few eggs into a bowl, whisking them quickly before pouring them into the pan for the rolled omelet.

It’s a delicate process, rolling the layers evenly, but Jungkook takes his time, making sure it looks as good as it tastes. When all the side dishes are done, he lines them up neatly on the counter, pleased with how everything is coming together.

The soup still needs a little more time, which gives him the perfect opportunity to step away and set the table. He wipes his hands on a cloth before making his way to the dining area, already picturing how he wants everything to look. Seokjin deserves something special, and Jungkook wants to make sure every little detail shows just how much thought he’s put into this.

Jungkook glances around the dining area, scanning for anything that might make the setup feel a little more special. He’s already using the cutlery they always eat with, nothing too fancy, but he wants to add a small touch, something thoughtful. His gaze drifts to the window, and he remembers the delicate little snowdrops growing just outside.

Without hesitating, he steps out into the crisp morning air, the cold biting at his skin as he crouches down to carefully pick a few of the small white flowers. Their petals droop slightly, but they’re soft and pure, a perfect addition to the table. He cups them gently in his hands as he heads back inside, placing them into a small vase he finds on one of the shelves. The simple arrangement adds a quiet charm to the table, and Jungkook smiles to himself, pleased.

As he straightens up, his eyes land on a collection of candles set neatly on a nearby shelf. Most of them are white or beige, but there’s a deep red one tucked among them. The color reminds him of warmth, of care, of something a little romantic without being too overwhelming. On impulse, he grabs it, deciding he’ll light it just before Seokjin arrives. It’s not much, but he hopes it’ll make the meal feel a little more meaningful.

Satisfied with the setup, he heads back to the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves as he moves toward the simmering soup. Now that he has a moment, he finds what he needs to mix it properly, blending the softened vegetables into a smooth, fragrant broth. The aroma is rich, filling the kitchen with warmth, and Jungkook feels a quiet satisfaction settle in his chest.

Wanting everything to be ready when Seokjin arrives, he begins setting out the dishes that don’t need to be served hot. The cold side dishes are carefully arranged on the table, the lightly seasoned spinach, the crunchy pickled radish, and the thinly sliced kimchi, each adding a splash of color. He places the crepes next to them, along with a small selection of toppings, honey, fresh fruit, and a bit of nut paste.

With everything falling into place, he turns back to the stove, making sure to extinguish the fire. But as he reaches to close the stove door, he misjudges the heat still radiating from the metal. A sharp sting shoots through his palm, and he yelps, jerking his hand back instinctively. A faint red mark blooms on his skin, throbbing slightly.

Jungkook hisses under his breath, shaking out his hand. It’s not bad, it’ll fade soon, but it still stings. He presses his palm against his shirt for a moment, willing the discomfort away. It’s fine. He’s fine. There’s still a little more to do before Seokjin arrives, and a small burn isn’t going to stop him.

Jungkook decides he needs to freshen up before his hyung gets home. He wants to look good, not overly dressed up, but presentable enough that Seokjin might notice. Might smile at him the way he does when he’s particularly fond of something.

First, he makes his way to the guest room to find the outfit the omegas had mentioned in their note. Apparently, they’d already picked something out for him and hidden it in the wardrobe to keep it away from Seokjin’s curious eyes.

Jungkook opens the tall wooden doors of the old armoire, the hinges creaking softly, and immediately spots the carefully arranged ensemble hanging inside.

It’s beautiful.

A soft, rose-pink tunic made of fine linen with delicate flower embroidery along the collar and cuffs, paired with cream-colored trousers cinched at the waist with a pale satin sash. The sleeves are slightly puffed at the shoulders, tapering gently at the wrists, giving the whole outfit a charming flair. A matching vest in blush velvet completes the look, its buttons shaped like tiny golden flowers.

It’s the kind of outfit someone might wear to a garden picnic or a spring festival he thinks, a little romantic, a little whimsical. Entirely Taehyung and Jimin’s taste.

Jungkook steps closer and buries his face in the soft fabric, breathing in the unmistakable scent of jasmine. It clings to the clothes like a gentle whisper, warm and familiar. He can’t help but smile to himself. That part had definitely been on purpose.

The thought makes his chest flutter. He imagines Jimin and Taehyung sneaking into Seokjin’s closet, giggling as they chose something they thought would make Jungkook look good. He just hopes Seokjin won’t mind that he’s borrowing his clothes.

With the outfit carefully gathered in his arms, Jungkook heads straight for the bathroom, excitement, and a bit of nervousness, starting to build in his chest.

Once inside, he picks out the jasmine-scented products from the small selection of soaps and oils the omegas had left for him. He lathers the floral-scented soap over his skin, making sure to work it into a rich foam, the scent blooming around him. It’s soft and warm, calming in a way that makes him feel just a little more confident. He rinses off quickly, not wanting to waste time, and towels himself dry before slipping into the clothes he picked out. The tunic is big on him, the sleeves slightly too long, but it’s comfortable. Familiar. He tugs at the hem absentmindedly before stepping out of the bathroom.

Just as he does, the sound of the front door opening echoes through the house.

Jungkook freezes. His stomach drops.

That’s too early. Seokjin shouldn’t be back yet. He should still be with the omegas. There are still things Jungkook hasn’t finished, the candle isn’t lit, the table isn’t completely set, the food isn’t plated properly. 

He’s not ready yet.

Panic propels him forward, and he rushes down the stairs, bare feet barely making a sound against the wooden floor. His heart is pounding, his mind racing for an excuse, but by the time he reaches the kitchen, it’s already too late.

Seokjin is standing there, his back to Jungkook, staring at the soup still simmering on the stove. His posture is tense, shoulders slightly raised, hands hovering near the counter as if he’s hesitant to touch anything. And then, slowly, he turns around.

Jungkook barely has time to react before their eyes meet.

Seokjin looks at him, then back at the carefully arranged table, at the flowers, at the food, and then back at him again. His expression is caught somewhere between shock and disbelief, his mouth slightly open as if he’s about to say something but can’t quite find the words.

Jungkook swallows, frozen in place. His mind scrambles for something, anything, to explain himself, but all he can do is stand there, staring back at Seokjin, caught red-handed in the middle of his surprise.

Jungkook stands frozen in place, his heart hammering against his ribs. His mind is a mess, tripping over itself.

Seokjin is the one to break the heavy silence.

“Jungkook-ah?” His voice is gentle, but there’s disbelief laced within it, as if he’s still processing what he’s seeing. His gaze flickers from the carefully set table to the steaming pot on the stove, to the neatly arranged side dishes. Then, his eyes settle back on Jungkook, wide with something that looks dangerously close to wonder. “Did you… did you cook all of this?”

Jungkook suddenly feels too hot. The outfit that had felt cozy a moment ago now clings to his skin, suffocating. His hands twitch at his sides. He hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t prepared for Seokjin to walk in before everything was ready, before he could steady his nerves and get through the date with some semblance of composure.

“I—” His throat feels dry. He stumbles over his words, his voice coming out embarrassingly unsteady. “I…yes. I… I cooked.” He swallows hard, forcing himself to meet Seokjin’s eyes even though his entire body screams at him to look away. “I cooked… for you.”

Seokjin’s expression shifts, his breath hitching slightly. Something softens in his gaze, something Jungkook can’t quite name. Then, before Jungkook can react, Seokjin steps closer, closing the space between them. His hand reaches out, warm and steady, wrapping around Jungkook’s fingers.

“You cooked for me?” Seokjin repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud will help him believe it. His fingers tighten slightly, grounding. “Jungkook-ah, you—” He shakes his head, looking genuinely overwhelmed.

Jungkook panics. His words start to tumble out, fast and nervous, before he can stop them.

“I—I wanted it to be perfect,” he blurts, words rushing like a flood, tripping over themselves in his desperation to explain. “It’s not finished yet… I still need to put everything on the table, and the soup still needs a little more time, and I haven’t even lit the candle yet… and…”

Seokjin blinks at him, but Jungkook is too deep in his rambling now, his nerves making him babble.

“Jimin-hyung and Tae-hyung helped me prepare everything yesterday, Hoseok-hyung too,  so I didn’t mess it up too badly, but it still took me longer than I thought it would. I… I don’t really know how to cook properly, not the way you do, but I tried, and it was supposed to be a surprise but you came back earlier than expected, and…” He inhales sharply, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “It was supposed to be a date.” His voice wavers on the last word.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, shoulders curling slightly inward. His grip on Seokjin’s hand loosens. “I mean, only if you want it to be,” he mumbles, suddenly unsure. “If you don’t, that’s okay. I mean, you’re you, and I’m just…” His throat tightens, his voice shrinking into something small. “I’m nothing special and—.”

Jungkook doesn’t even have time to process what’s happening before Seokjin silences his rambling in the most unexpected way possible.

Warm hands cradle his face, steady and so gentle, thumbs brushing over his cheeks like Seokjin is trying to memorize the shape of him. Jungkook barely has time to breathe before the beta leans in, closing the distance between them.

Their lips meet, soft and slow at first, yet devastatingly sure. It’s not just a kiss. It’s the kind that roots itself in your chest, the kind that steals the breath from your lungs and makes the world tilt just a little. Jungkook’s mind goes completely blank, every thought swallowed by the warmth of Seokjin’s mouth on his, the certainty in his touch.

His heart stumbles in his chest, pounding so hard it feels like it might give out, and all he can do is cling to the moment, to Seokjin, like he’s afraid it might disappear.

For a second, he forgets how to breathe.

Seokjin kisses him hard, but it’s not rough, it’s something else entirely. It feels desperate, as if he’s been holding back for too long and can’t bear another second without touching him. Jungkook gasps against his lips, his fingers instinctively curling into the fabric of Seokjin’s clothes, gripping tight, scared that the beta will slip away. A small, helpless whine escapes his lips, muffled between their mouths, and Seokjin responds by tilting his head, deepening the kiss.

It’s overwhelming, the warmth of Seokjin’s hands on his skin, the way he’s holding him like something delicate, like he never wants to let go. Jungkook can only cling to him, knees threatening to give out beneath the weight of everything he’s feeling.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, Seokjin pulls away, but only just. He presses another kiss to his lips, this time softer, lingering for the briefest moment before finally looking at him. His eyes shine, full of something deep something that makes Jungkook’s chest tighten with emotion.

Seokjin’s hands move again, palms warm as they stroke his cheeks. His thumbs sweep across Jungkook’s skin, gentle and kind, and then he’s pulling him into a tight embrace. Jungkook melts into it without hesitation, his face buried against Seokjin’s shoulder, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of him.

“Oh, Jungkookie,” Seokjin murmurs, voice thick with affection. “This is so sweet. I don’t even know what to say.” His arms tighten around him, like he wants to hold him forever. “You did all of this for me?” There’s something tender in the way he says it, as if he still can’t quite believe it.

Jungkook nods against his shoulder, unable to form words.

Seokjin exhales shakily, his hands smoothing over Jungkook’s back before he finally leans back to look at him. “I’m very touched. And so, so happy.” He smiles, radiant and warm, and Jungkook’s heart stutters painfully in his chest. “Of course, I want to have a date with you. How could I not?”

Jungkook blinks up at him, his brain still struggling to keep up, but then Seokjin’s expression shifts, his smile turning just a little sheepish. He lifts a hand, rubbing the back of his neck. “I… Sorry about the kiss.” A soft laugh escapes him, light and breathless. “I couldn’t help myself. I should have asked you.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches, but before he can even think to respond, Seokjin leans in again, this time nuzzling his nose against his cheek. “You just looked too cute,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, almost teasing, but undeniably fond. “Saying things that were even cuter, all while wearing my clothes and smelling like me.”

Jungkook squeaks, face instantly burning, and Seokjin chuckles, pulling him in once more.

Jungkook’s heart pounds against his ribs as he stumbles over his words, Seokjin’s gaze making it nearly impossible to think straight. “I-I just… Jimin-hyung and Taehyung-hyung picked the outfit,” he blurts, voice small and uneven, like he’s trying to justify something that doesn’t need defending. “It felt right to wear your clothes too, so I… I did. But maybe I should have asked first.”

His face burns hot with embarrassment, eyes dropping to his hands as guilt coils in his stomach. It feels foolish now, selfish even, like he’s overstepped.

But then,

Seokjin leans in and kisses him again.

It’s soft this time, slower. Like a breath taken after a storm. Warmth spills through Jungkook’s chest as their lips meet, and for a moment, the world falls quiet. There’s nothing but the gentle press of Seokjin’s mouth and the steady thrum of safety in his presence.

When Seokjin pulls away, it’s only far enough to rest his forehead against Jungkook’s, his thumb brushing comfortingly along his jaw.

“You don’t have to explain, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice thick with fondness. “You can wear my clothes every day if you want.” He smiles, soft and real, and Jungkook’s breath catches at the sheer tenderness in it.

“It makes me very happy, you know?”

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat at those words, a warm rush of emotion flooding him. He can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips, his shyness mixing with something deeper, something he can’t quite put into words, but that makes him feel seen, understood.

Seokjin then moves towards the bags he had discarded on the floor earlier, picking them up with a casual grace. He sets them down on the counter, and Jungkook watches in curiosity as he starts unpacking them.

“I got some things,” Seokjin begins, his voice almost sheepish as he opens the bags. “I had planned to cook for you today. I wanted to surprise you too.” He looks over his shoulder at Jungkook, his eyes gleaming with affection. “I had a date planned for us.”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide, his breath catching in his throat. 

A date? Seokjin had planned a date for them too? 

The thought makes his heart race again, faster this time, and he takes a step closer to the counter, not quite believing what he’s hearing. He blinks a few times, trying to process everything.

“You… you planned a date? For me?” Jungkook asks, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching Seokjin’s face for any hint that he’s joking, but there’s none. Seokjin’s smile only widens in response, and the warmth in his gaze makes Jungkook’s chest tighten with a mix of happiness and surprise.

Seokjin’s hand moves to his head, gently caressing his hair, a tender gesture that makes Jungkook’s heart skip. “Great minds think alike, I guess,” Seokjin chuckles softly, the sound light and carefree. “I’m so happy right now. I was actually nervous about asking you on a date, even though you’ve already been on one with Seok-ah. But this…” He glances at the preparations Jungkook has made, at the way the kitchen smells of home-cooked food, and his eyes soften even more. “I’m so happy you did this for me. You’ve really touched me, Kookie.”

The sincerity in Seokjin’s words causes something inside Jungkook to swell. He feels a quiet pride, but also a deep sense of gratitude. To know that Seokjin feels this way, that he’s so happy, so touched by what he’s done, makes everything feel worth it. Even the nerves, the mistakes, the moments of doubt, it’s all worth it because Seokjin is here, sharing this moment with him.

“You’re happy?” Jungkook asks, almost disbelieving, his heart racing. “You like it?” He wants to be sure, to hear Seokjin say it out loud, to confirm that all his efforts, his cooking, his nervousness, have been worth it.

Seokjin smiles again, his eyes sparkling with affection. “I love it, Jungkookie,” he says, his voice steady and full of certainty. “And I like you, so the day will definitely be perfect .” He pauses, leaning in just a little closer. “You’ve made me the happiest beta alive today.”

Jungkook’s heart swells at the words, and he doesn’t know how to respond, except to smile shyly, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches out to touch Seokjin’s arm.

“I’m so glad I could make you happy,” Jungkook whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “That’s all I wanted to do.”

Seokjin’s expression softens, and he leans down, brushing a gentle kiss against Jungkook’s forehead. “Well, you’ve certainly done that.” He pulls back slightly, giving Jungkook a look filled with warmth. “Now… what do you say we finish preparing this date, hmm?”

Jungkook nods eagerly, his heart filled with warmth as he looks up at Seokjin. He’s never felt this certain about anything before, never felt this happy. And as they begin to work together, the date that neither of them expected unfolds into something beautiful, something both of them will remember for a long time.

Seokjin hums as he moves toward the hook by the kitchen door, grabbing the familiar apron adorned with little hearts. The fabric is soft and worn, and Jungkook has to bite back a smile when Seokjin turns toward him, mischief sparkling in his eyes. Before Jungkook can react, Seokjin is already slipping the apron over his head, adjusting the straps with practiced ease. The domesticity of it all makes Jungkook’s stomach flutter, the warmth in Seokjin’s hands as he ties the knot at the back sending a pleasant shiver down his spine.

“Why didn’t you wear it while you were cooking?” Seokjin asks, voice light, but there’s a teasing lilt to it, like he already knows the answer.

Jungkook shifts slightly, glancing down at the apron before peering up at Seokjin. “I… I didn’t really think about it,” he admits, feeling a little embarrassed under Seokjin’s knowing gaze. “I was too focused on getting everything done.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue in mock disapproval, smoothing his hands over Jungkook’s shoulders before tugging at the apron strings just a little. “Tsk, tsk, what am I going to do with you?” He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. “I guess I’ll just have to put it on you myself every single time from now on, hum?”

Jungkook’s face heats at the declaration, his stomach twisting with something dangerously close to giddiness. He doesn’t protest, though, doesn’t even think to, because the thought of Seokjin taking care of him like this, of slipping an apron over his head before he starts cooking, of making it their little ritual, fills him with a warmth he doesn’t know what to do with.

Instead, he busies himself with the food, focusing on plating the last few dishes while Seokjin works beside him, moving with an easy confidence that makes everything feel effortless. They work well together; better than Jungkook had even hoped. Seokjin hums softly as he moves, occasionally sneaking little glances at Jungkook, like he still can’t believe this is happening. Jungkook doesn’t say anything about it, but every time their eyes meet, he can feel his pulse quicken.

The kitchen is filled with the rich aroma of warm food, the lingering scent of jasmine from Jungkook’s bath mixing with the faint flicker of candle wax from the red candle he had placed on the table earlier. Everything feels… right. 

Comfortable.

 Like they’ve done this a hundred times before, like they’ll do it a hundred more times in the future.

At some point, Jungkook’s hand starts to sting again, the dull ache of the burn pulsing beneath his skin. He flexes his fingers slightly, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from wincing. It’s not that bad, just a small burn. It’s nothing. And he doesn’t want to ruin the atmosphere, doesn’t want Seokjin to worry about something so minor when everything feels so perfect. So he swallows the discomfort, focusing instead on carrying the last of the dishes to the dining table.

Seokjin, ever the gentleman, makes a show of pulling out Jungkook’s chair for him when everything is finally ready. “For you, my dear chef,” he says dramatically, bowing slightly as he gestures for Jungkook to sit.

Jungkook huffs a laugh, shaking his head, but his cheeks are warm as he settles into the chair. The moment he does, Seokjin’s fingers slip through his hair, combing through the damp strands with a touch so gentle that it makes Jungkook freeze. His breath catches, his eyes fluttering shut for just a second as Seokjin’s nails scratch lightly against his scalp. It’s such a simple gesture, but it makes Jungkook feel so cared for. So adored.

“You worked hard,” Seokjin murmurs, voice soft, almost reverent. “Thank you for this, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook swallows, his fingers curling slightly against his lap. He feels overwhelmed, by the warmth in Seokjin’s voice, by the tenderness in his touch, by the fact that he’s here, doing this, sharing something so intimate with someone who means so much to him. He peeks up at Seokjin through his lashes, his voice quiet when he finally speaks.

“I just… I wanted to make you happy, hyung.”

Seokjin smiles, something impossibly soft settling in his expression. He leans down slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of Jungkook’s head, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

“You already do,” he whispers.

 The meal begins in comfortable quiet, the soft clinking of chopsticks against porcelain filling the space between them. Jungkook keeps his eyes on his plate, poking at the food with his chopsticks, trying to ignore the nervous fluttering in his chest. He had worked hard on this meal, but now that Seokjin was actually eating it, the anxiety crept up on him. 

What if it wasn’t good enough? What if it wasn’t what Seokjin liked? His appetite wanes under the weight of his own worries.

Seokjin, perceptive as always, seems to notice the way his shoulders tense, the way he keeps glancing at him like he’s waiting for some sort of judgment. With a soft sigh, he sets his chopsticks down and gives Jungkook a warm smile. 

“Pup, everything is really good. You did amazing.” His voice is gentle, reassuring, like he can sense just how much Jungkook needs to hear it.

Jungkook blinks, swallowing back his nerves before glancing back at Seokjin. “Really?” His voice is small, hesitant, like he doesn’t quite believe it.

Seokjin picks up his chopsticks again and takes another deliberate bite, making a show of savoring it before humming in satisfaction. “Really. I wasn’t expecting you to be such a natural. Are you used to cooking?”

Jungkook hesitates for a moment before shaking his head. “Not really. I used to help my grandmother sometimes when I was little, but that was about it.” His fingers tighten slightly around his chopsticks, his voice dropping a little as he continues. “And after… after my parents threw me out, I mostly just ate whatever scraps I could find. Or whatever I could manage to steal. I never got to learn much about cooking.”

His voice is steady, but there’s an edge of something vulnerable underneath. A part of him still feels ashamed of that time in his life, having to sneak around markets, stuffing whatever he could into his pockets, knowing that if he got caught, the consequences would be dire. He hadn’t had a choice, not really. Survival had been the only thing that mattered. Still, it wasn’t something he liked talking about.

When he glances up, he sees Seokjin staring at him, his usually soft features hardened with something unreadable. His grip on his chopsticks has tightened just slightly, but when he speaks, his voice is calm. “Jungkook-ah… I’m sorry you had to go through all of that.” He sets his chopsticks down again, reaching across the table to take Jungkook’s hand in his own, his touch warm and grounding. “But here, with us, you’ll never have to worry about food ever again. I promise you that.”

Jungkook’s throat tightens, the sincerity in Seokjin’s voice wrapping around his heart like a protective cocoon. He knows that, logically. He knows the pack would never let him go hungry. But hearing it out loud, feeling Seokjin’s warmth against his skin, it makes it all feel more real.

Still, he doesn’t want to just take without giving. “I want to cook for you, too,” he mumbles, cheeks warming slightly. “For the pack. I want to do something for all of you.”

Seokjin’s lips curl into a fond smile, his thumb brushing over Jungkook’s knuckles. “That’s fine, pup.” He chuckles, the warmth returning to his gaze. “I won’t stop you. But I will insist on cooking for you as much as I want.”

Jungkook huffs, pretending to be exasperated, but he can’t stop the small smile that tugs at his lips. There’s something about the way Seokjin looks at him, like he’s someone precious, someone worth taking care of, that makes Jungkook’s heart feel full in a way he’s not quite used to yet.

Maybe one day, he’ll stop feeling like he has to earn this kindness. But for now, he lets himself hold onto Seokjin’s hand just a little longer.

The conversation flows so easily between them that Jungkook almost forgets that this is a date. It doesn’t feel like some big, life-changing moment, just two people sharing a meal, letting the warmth of each other’s presence settle around them like a well-worn blanket. 

Maybe it’s because Seokjin has been there since the very beginning, the first person he saw when he opened his eyes in the infirmary, the first one to offer him kindness without hesitation. Or maybe it’s just Seokjin himself, with his easygoing nature and his ability to make Jungkook feel safe, like he belongs.

Somewhere between bites of food and quiet smiles, Seokjin starts reminiscing, his voice taking on a nostalgic lilt. “You know, you’re not the only one who’s been nervous about dates,” he says, swirling his spoon idly in his soup. “My first date with Hoseok… Ah, that was something.”

Jungkook tilts his head, interest piqued. “Really? I thought it would’ve been easy for you.”

Seokjin laughs, shaking his head. “Not quite. You see, it all started with Joonie.” He leans forward slightly, eyes twinkling with amusement. “He kept going on and on about this cute beta he met at the trading markets. Wouldn’t shut up about him, really. Every time he came back from a trip, it was Hoseok this, Hoseok that—I swear, I started to think he’d been spellbound or something.”

Jungkook chuckles, picturing a flustered Namjoon rambling about a new crush.

Seokjin continues. “After a while, I got curious. They kept meeting up, just the two of them, and I wanted to see for myself what was so special about this beta that had my alpha acting like a lovesick pup.” He pauses for dramatic effect before grinning. “And the second I met him, I understood.”

Jungkook watches as Seokjin’s expression softens, his fingers tapping idly against the edge of his bowl as if the memory is playing vividly in his mind. There’s a fondness in his voice, one that makes Jungkook’s heart warm just listening to it.

“It was love at first sight, you could say,” Seokjin continues with a little shrug, like it’s a simple fact rather than something so deeply personal.

Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly. “Really?”

Seokjin chuckles, but then he leans in slightly, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “But don’t tell Namjoonie that.”

Jungkook blinks, confused. “Why not?”

Seokjin smirks. “Because he’ll whine about how he had to work for years to earn my love, while Hoseok just existed and won me over in an instant.” He laughs, shaking his head. “It’s a sore spot for him. Poor alpha.”

Jungkook chuckles, his whole face lighting up. The mental image of Namjoon, pouting and sulking over Seokjin’s effortless love for Hoseok, is just too amusing.

Seokjin watches him with an affectionate smile, his own laughter softening into something more tender. “You’re pretty when you smile, pup” he murmurs. “I really like seeing you happy.”

Jungkook’s laughter slows, and he suddenly becomes aware of how close they are, how natural it feels to share these quiet moments together. His heart stumbles slightly, but he doesn’t look away. Instead, he holds onto the warmth that Seokjin’s words bring, letting them settle deep in his chest.

Seokjin hums thoughtfully, swirling the remnants of his drink in his cup before continuing. “And, you know, I kept stuttering the whole time.” He shakes his head at the memory, his expression half amused, half exasperated. “Can you imagine? Me, stumbling over my words like some flustered pup.”

Jungkook tilts his head, surprised. “Really?” he asks, brows raising. “But you seem so… confident.”

Seokjin chuckles at that, the corners of his lips quirking up as he rests his chin in his palm. “Normally, I am,” he agrees. “But with Hobi, I was… different.” His gaze grows distant, as if he’s reliving the moment all over again. “He made me feel so shy. It was embarrassing.”

Jungkook watches him, curious. “Why?”

Seokjin exhales through his nose, tapping his fingers against the table. “Because he was so handsome, for one. And he smelled so good.”  He chuckles, shaking his head as if still affected by the memory. “But mostly because I could tell right away that he was more dominant than me.”

Jungkook blinks, recalling what Jimin and Taehyung had told him about shifter hierarchy. He nods slowly. “Jimin-hyung and Tae-hyung explained a little about that.”

Seokjin perks up slightly. “Oh? Then you know that in most cases, alphas and betas rank higher in that hierarchy, even if they don’t always act the part. It’s not an exact science but it works like that for many.” He pauses, letting Jungkook absorb that before continuing. “Hoseok is over me in that ranking.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow slightly, trying to picture it. “But… he’s…” he starts. “He’s always smiling and laughing.”

Seokjin grins. Right? That’s what made it so surprising.” He leans forward slightly, voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “He was such a cutie, all bright eyes and sunshine smiles. But underneath all of that? There was this… natural dominance to him.” He exhales, “And that was what made me so shy. Because you don’t expect it when you look at him.”

Jungkook listens, fascinated. He’s seen how alphas interact, how Namjoon and Yoongi carry themselves with effortless authority, but Hoseok is different. Warm, golden, all open affection and laughter. Yet, now that Seokjin mentions it, Jungkook recalls the way the pack instinctively listens when Hoseok speaks, the way he commands attention without even trying.

"I’ve never really thought about it that way,” Jungkook admits, his brows drawing together in thought. “Humans have a kind of hierarchy too but it’s more about social status, I think. It’s not the same as how it seems to work for wolves.”

Seokjin chuckles, reaching out to ruffle Jungkook’s hair with playful affection. “I get it,” he says warmly. “But for us, it’s not just about status or personality. It runs deeper than that. You can tell what someone is the moment you meet them, a new shifter, their rank, it’s in the way they move, the way they hold themselves… even in their scent. You’re still learning, pup. But don’t worry, you’ll start picking up on it soon.” He winks, leaning back with a smug grin. “And when you do, you’ll understand just how much of a mess I was back then.”

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t think you were hopeless.”

Seokjin raises a brow. “Oh? If stuttering over my words and nearly walking into a tree isn’t hopeless, then I don’t know what is.”

Laughter bubbles up from Jungkook’s chest, light and effortless, and for once, he doesn’t try to hold it back. When he glances over, he sees Seokjin watching him with a soft, fond smile, like he’s pleased to see him laughing. The tension from earlier feels like a distant memory now, replaced by something warm and easy that lingers between them like sunlight.

Seokjin sighs dramatically, resting his chin on his palm as he swirls the last bits of his drink. “And you know what Hoseok told me at the end of that day?” he asks, glancing at Jungkook with a small smirk.

Jungkook shakes his head, waiting, eyes wide with curiosity.

“He said Namjoon wouldn’t stop talking about his mate and that he had to meet me himself,” Seokjin says, rolling his eyes even as a fond smile tugs at his lips. “Then he called me the prettiest shifter he’s ever seen and asked me out on a date. Can you believe that? Barely a couple hours of knowing me, and he’s already asking for a date just because he thinks I’m pretty.”

Jungkook lets out a surprised laugh, eyes crinkling in delight. “And what did you do, hyung?”

Seokjin lifts his brows. “What could I do? He asked me out in front of Namjoon. In front of my mate, for heaven’s sake. Scandalous.” He shakes his head, acting appalled, though his grin betrays his amusement. “But Namjoon only encouraged it. Told me I should go.” He hums, reminiscing. “So the next day, I did.”

Jungkook listens intently as Seokjin continues, his voice laced with nostalgia.

“Hoseok took me on a picnic.” A soft smile curves his lips. “We sat on this little patch of grass near the river, ate until we were full, and just… talked. The sun started setting, and we ended up lying on our backs, stargazing in the summer night.” Seokjin exhales slowly, his eyes distant with the memory. “And then, under the moonlight, he kissed me.” He sighs dreamily, resting a hand on his cheek. “It was so romantic.”

Jungkook blinks at him before huffing a small laugh. “That sounds like something out of a romance novel.”

Seokjin laughs, pleased. “It does, doesn’t it?” Then he tilts his head toward Jungkook, a playful glint in his eyes. “But we have our own little date today, don’t we?”

Jungkook suddenly remembers, this is a date too. His cheeks heat up slightly, but before he can get too flustered, Seokjin reaches over, brushing his fingers lightly against Jungkook’s wrist. “I want to take you somewhere after this.”

Jungkook’s heart gives a small, excited flutter. “Where?”

Seokjin grins. “Ah, that’s a surprise.” He winks, then leans back, stretching his arms. “But first,” he gestures toward the dishes still sitting on the table “We need to clean up.”

Jungkook groans playfully, but Seokjin only laughs, nudging him toward the kitchen with a warm, lingering touch to his back.

They make quick work of the dishes, Seokjin washing while Jungkook dries, their movements easy and familiar. The warmth of the meal lingers between them, not just from the food but from the comfort of being in each other’s presence. When the last dish is set aside, and every candle has been extinguished, they move toward the door, ready to head out.

Jungkook instinctively reaches for the familiar coat Yoongi had given him, fingers barely brushing the fabric before Seokjin lets out a sharp tsk.

“Oh, no, no, no. That won’t do.” Seokjin folds his arms, watching him with raised brows. “You’re not wearing another man’s coat on our date.”

Jungkook blinks at him before his lips twitch. He’s beginning to understand Seokjin’s humor, the way he teases without real malice. And yet, the words stir something in his chest, something warm and strange that he doesn’t quite have a name for yet.

He barely has time to react before Seokjin steps forward, retrieving another coat from where it hangs near the door. This one is rich burgundy, a deep, warm shade that reminds Jungkook of the color Seokjin’s wolf takes under the sun. Without a word, Seokjin drapes it over Jungkook’s shoulders, tugging it snugly around him.

“There,” Seokjin murmurs, his hands smoothing over the fabric. His voice is softer now, almost thoughtful. “That’s much better.”

Jungkook swallows, his fingers curling around the edges of the coat. The scent of Seokjin is all over it. Clean, warm, with that crisp hint of jasmine flowers that Jungkook is starting to associate with him.

“Today, you’re mine sweetheart,” Seokjin declares, tilting Jungkook’s chin up with a single finger. His tone is light, but his eyes gleam with something playful. “And I want my cute little human to wear my clothes.”

Jungkook doesn’t know why his face heats up so suddenly, but it does.

Seokjin chuckles at his flustered expression before straightening, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. “Besides,” he adds, “I need to make a point when we step outside. I want every shifter we pass to know that you’re off-limits.”

Jungkook stares at him, lips parting slightly, but Seokjin simply winks, then steps past him to open the door. “Now, shall we?”

Jungkook can only trail after him, his heart fluttering with a strange, unsteady rhythm.

Notes:

Hey lovelies!! 💜

Tell me Jungkook isn’t the cutest freaking thing on the planet?? 😭 He’s putting so much effort into these preparations even though he knows nothing about cooking. Well, nothing yet 😌 (but of course I had to make him naturally good at it, because let’s be real, he is good at everything IRL 😅).

Also… not Jimin and Tae picking Seokjin’s clothes for him to wear 😭 They absolutely know what they’re doing and our boy JK is just blissfully oblivious 💖

And Jin going for that kiss??? 😳 My man was struggling. Probably since day one. He just couldn't take it anymore and finally gave in 😭

And the fact that Jin came home to Jungkook preparing a date for him… while he had also prepared a date for Jungkook?? 🥺 I just know they’re going to have the best time (and yes, I know because I know what’s coming in the next chapter hehe 😏)

Oh!! And Jin’s little story about meeting Hoseok?? 😂 I can just imagine Hobi hearing Namjoon yap about Jin nonstop.
He just had to ask Namjoon’s mate out right in front of him 😭 But honestly… can we even blame him?? We’re talking about Mr. Worldwide Handsome here 😌 I’m sure Namjoon was lowkey thrilled anyway 🤭

 

Hope you’ve all been doing well. I meant to post this a few days ago but, you know, life had other plans. Just got back from 10 days of work travel and then had to attend a wedding ✨ (so much fun by the way, and the food?? Incredible. Let’s be real, that’s always the best part 😋)

It was amazing but as a classic introvert, it was also a lot 😅 Social events can be so draining, especially when you don’t know anyone or go alone. Definitely pushed me out of my comfort zone!

I had one day off between getting back from work and leaving for the wedding… and I completely crashed. Slept the entire day which is why I didn’t post earlier, but hey, at least I got that beauty sleep 😌✨

Wishing you all an amazing week ahead!! 💖 Take care and be gentle with yourselves!

Chapter 47: Tell Me Again

Summary:

Jungkook and Seokjin’s date, take one thousand, but this time, it’s the real deal.

Seokjin takes his hand, and Jungkook can’t help but smile so wide his cheeks start to ache. Happiness thrums in his chest, warm and overwhelming, like he might just combust from the sheer joy of it. The air is crisp, and the soft crunch of their footsteps against the ground fills the space between them as they walk side by side.

Seokjin carries a bag over one shoulder, and Jungkook can’t help but wonder where they’re going. The beta had mentioned wanting to take him somewhere, but he hadn’t given any hints. Jungkook trusts him, though. He trusts all of them. That thought alone makes his chest feel even warmer.

Then, as they step onto a familiar path, something clicks in Jungkook’s mind. His eyes widen as he recognizes the way the trees bend, the way the air feels more humid the further they walk. His breath catches, excitement bubbling up before he can even think to stop it.

“Wait,” He turns to Seokjin, eyes sparkling with unrestrained joy. “Are we going to the hot springs?”

Seokjin chuckles, clearly amused. “I didn’t think you’d figure it out so quickly, but yes.”

Jungkook gasps, his whole face lighting up. And then the words spill from him, tumbling over each other in his excitement. 

“Namjoon-hyung showed me! He brought me here before. Well, not here exactly, we didn’t go all the way, but he told me I could use them! I’ve never seen hot springs before, never used one!” 

His hands gesture wildly, his grip tightening around Seokjin’s. “Do you think the water is really hot or just warm? What does it feel like? Does it smell different? Is it deep? Oh! And do people really bathe there all the time? Or is it more for relaxation?”

He doesn’t even realize how fast he’s talking, how breathless he’s becoming. He just can’t help it, he’s so excited. It’s rare for him to experience things that feel new, so special.

His rambling comes to an abrupt halt when Seokjin suddenly tugs on his hand, pulling him just close enough for their lips to meet.

It’s a soft kiss, barely more than the press of warm lips against his own, but it steals the breath from his lungs all the same. A startled whimper escapes him before he can stop it, his fingers twitching against Seokjin’s palm. He’s too shocked to move, to even think, his mind blanking entirely at the sheer tenderness of it.

When Seokjin pulls back, there’s a flicker of surprise in his own eyes, like he hadn’t quite meant to do that. He licks his lips, gaze darting away for a second before he chuckles, slightly sheepish. “Ah… I’m sorry, Jungkookie. I didn’t mean to startle you.” His thumb brushes lightly over the back of Jungkook’s hand, reassuring, grounding. 

“You were just too cute. Rambling like that, getting all excited about our date and looking at me with those big, sparkly eyes…” He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. “My body reacted before my mind could catch up.”

Jungkook blinks up at him, heart hammering so loudly in his chest he’s sure Seokjin can hear it. His face feels impossibly warm, burning from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. 

He kissed him. Seokjin had kissed him again.

He swallows hard, fingers curling slightly against Seokjin’s. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, voice a little breathless. Then, quieter, barely above a whisper, “I… I liked it.”

Seokjin’s eyes widen just a fraction before his expression softens into something impossibly fond. His free hand lifts, brushing a stray lock of hair away from Jungkook’s forehead. “You’re really cute,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his thumb ghosting over Jungkook’s temple for the briefest moment. Then, his lips curl into a small, pleased smile. “I’m glad.”

His fingers squeeze Jungkook’s, gentle yet firm. “To be honest, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while, you know.” His voice dips slightly, warm and teasing. “It’s been torture trying to remain composed whenever you act all cute. Blushing under my teasing like you do.”

A soft breath escapes Jungkook, wide eyes fixed on Seokjin’s face, heart stuttering in his chest.

Seokjin smiles, a little sheepish, his thumb brushing lightly over Jungkook’s knuckles. “I mean, it’s not our first kiss,” he adds, almost as if to comfort both of them. “I’ve kissed you this morning, but still.” His eyes flick to Jungkook’s lips, then back to his eyes, softer now. “It feels different when I know you want it too.”

Jungkook makes a tiny noise, somewhere between flustered and mortified, his free hand coming up to cover his face. He doesn’t even have to look to know Seokjin is grinning.

His hyung just laughs, full and bright, before tugging lightly on his hand. “Come on, cutie. We still have a date to get to.”

Jungkook lets himself be pulled forward, still dazed, still blushing, his lips tingling with the memory of the kiss. And maybe he squeezes Seokjin’s hand just a little tighter.

When they get there, Jungkook follows Seokjin inside, slightly overwhelmed by the sheer size of the entrance area. He hadn't expected the hot springs to have such an open, welcoming space, a lounge, almost, with plush chairs and couches arranged in small clusters. The flickering glow of lanterns casts a warm ambiance over the area, their golden light bouncing softly off the polished wooden floors.

 It’s quiet. Peaceful even.

His gaze sweeps across the empty space, and he wonders if the number of visitors fluctuates depending on the time of day or the day of the week. Perhaps they just got lucky. Either way, he’s grateful for it.

Seokjin tugs him gently toward a hallway lined with wooden partitions. “We’ll have to change into swimwear first,” he explains. “Then take a quick rinse before we get into the springs.”

Jungkook nods absentmindedly, until the words ‘change into swimwear' finally register.

Oh.

He stops in his tracks.

Swimwear. Of course. 

It’s not as if they’ll be wading into the water fully clothed. But for some reason, the realization hadn’t truly hit him until now. His stomach flips. His face heats. He’s suddenly very aware of the fact that he’s never worn anything close to swimwear in front of anyone before.

Seokjin, oblivious to his momentary crisis, leads him to the changing area, a cozy space made up of wooden stalls for privacy. He gestures to one of them before handing him a neatly folded bundle of fabric. “I borrowed some of Tae’s swimwear for you. You two are about the same size, so it should fit just fine.”

Jungkook takes the bundle hesitantly, his fingers twitching against the soft material. He gulps.

He’s going to have to walk out wearing this.

In front of Seokjin.

Jungkook barely has time to react before Seokjin unfurls the swim shorts with a dramatic flick of his wrist, revealing a pattern of soft, round teddy bears scattered across the fabric.

He blinks. Then blinks again.

The beta bursts into laughter at his expression, his eyes crinkling with delight. “Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that,” he teases, handing the shorts over. “I may have chosen the cutest option available. For my own guilty pleasure, of course. I just knew they’d look adorable on you.”

Jungkook takes the shorts with a huff, his ears turning pink as he turns on his heel and marches straight into one of the changing stalls. The moment he’s inside, door firmly shut, he exhales sharply and presses the shorts to his face for a second. 

This is fine. Everything is fine.

Except it’s not, because his mind keeps spiraling.

First of all, the shorts are cute. Too cute. And he knows that once he steps out wearing them, Seokjin is going to tease him mercilessly. But even worse than that, worse than the impending teasing, worse than the bear-printed fabric, is the realization that he's going to see Seokjin in swimwear too.

His face burns. He lets out a strangled noise into the fabric before forcing himself to get dressed, tugging the shorts up quickly before he has another moment to overthink it.

When he finally musters up the courage to step out, he spots Seokjin waiting just outside the stall, arms crossed, one hip slightly jutted to the side. His pink swim shorts are a soft pastel, nearly the exact shade of his lips.

Jungkook immediately forgets how to breathe.

His heart skips a beat as his eyes, completely unbidden, flicker to Seokjin’s mouth. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about it, but how could he not? Those lips had been on his no more than fifteen minutes ago, warm and soft and sweet, and now here they are again, parted in amusement as Seokjin looks at him.

“I knew they’d be cute,” the beta says, grinning as he reaches out to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. “Absolutely precious.”

Jungkook groans, ducking away from his touch, but Seokjin only chuckles before motioning for him to follow.

They make their way toward the bathing area, a separate space filled with low wooden stools and an assortment of soaps and oils, warm steam curling through the air. Jungkook focuses on anything but the fact that Seokjin is right next to him, so close that he can hear the faint splashing of water as the beta rinses himself off.

He busies himself with washing, scrubbing his arms with a bit too much focus. He absolutely, under no circumstances, will allow himself to glance sideways, because if he does, he might actually combust.

Seokjin hums beside him, completely at ease. “Don’t take too long, Jungkookie. The water’s waiting.”

Jungkook nods stiffly, still staring intently at his hands. He’s doing so well. Avoiding looking at Seokjin has made his slight mental breakdown easier to bear.

He just has to keep it up.

The moment they step into the hot springs, the change in temperature is almost overwhelming. Jungkook stands frozen at the edge for a second, just staring at the beauty before him. The water stretches out before them in a vast, calming expanse, its light blue hue soft and inviting, almost glowing under the sunlight.

 The steam rises in wisps, curling gently into the air, giving the entire area a dreamlike quality. Surrounding the spring, snow-covered trees stand in quiet serenity, their dark silhouettes contrasting with the ethereal glow of the hot water. The scene feels like something out of a storybook, a secret hidden in nature’s embrace.

It’s the kind of view that makes Jungkook feel small, but in a way that doesn’t make him uncomfortable. The peacefulness of the setting wraps around him, filling him with a deep, calming sense of awe.

 For a brief moment, he forgets all about his earlier nerves, the gnawing unease about being seen in his swimwear, the overwhelming feeling of being with Seokjin like this. He just takes in the beauty of it all.

But then Seokjin’s voice breaks the silence, his tone teasing, yet filled with warmth. “Come on, Jungkookie. Hurry up or you’ll freeze to death out here.”

Jungkook is pulled from his trance, blinking rapidly as he registers the fact that he’s been standing there, motionless, for far too long. His heart races a little at the thought of joining Seokjin in the water, he’s suddenly aware of the closeness of it all again. 

But Seokjin is already stepping into the spring, his bare skin gleaming in the soft light. The beta takes a deep breath, his body relaxing at the sensation of the hot water, and then, without hesitation, he reaches out to Jungkook. He grabs his hand, pulling him gently, urging him to follow.

Jungkook hesitates for only a moment longer, his eyes flickering down to their intertwined hands before he finally steps forward. The moment his foot touches the water, he gasps, a soft, almost breathless sound, as the heat immediately soothes his chilled skin. The warmth wraps around him like a soft embrace, melting away the tension he hadn’t even realized he was holding.

Seokjin leads him deeper, his grip steady on Jungkook’s hand, as they make their way further into the spring. The water reaches up to Jungkook’s chest, the warmth seeping into his muscles, relaxing him with each step. The depth of the water is perfect, not too deep, so he can still stand comfortably, but deep enough to feel enveloped in its soothing embrace. He feels like he’s floating, a weightless, peaceful sensation.

The steam rises around them, a veil of mist softening everything in sight. The only sounds are the gentle lapping of the water, the occasional creak of tree branches in the wind, and Seokjin’s quiet hum of contentment as he relaxes into the water. Jungkook can’t help but smile, the tension from earlier slowly melting away with the heat surrounding him.

Seokjin’s eyes flicker toward him, and Jungkook catches the softness in them as he looks at him, something warm, reassuring. 

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” Seokjin asks, his voice low, almost a whisper as if not wanting to break the spell of the moment. Jungkook nods, unable to find words for the peaceful contentment filling him. He just tilts his head back slightly, letting the steam fill his lungs, feeling it clear out the rest of the weight from his mind.

For a long moment, neither of them says anything more. Seokjin pulls him in a little closer, not with any urgency, but just enough to settle against each other, the heat of their bodies mixing with the warmth of the water. It’s a quiet, easy comfort, and for the first time in what feels like a long while, Jungkook is free from the buzzing anxiety he’s come to associate with new experiences.

He could stay like this forever, just floating, just being.

Seokjin seems to feel the same, his fingers lightly brushing against Jungkook’s hand as they both settle deeper into the water, the weight of the world temporarily forgotten. The warmth soaks into their skin, easing away any lingering tension, and for a moment, everything feels still, serene.

But then, a playful glint sparks in Jungkook’s eyes. The tranquility lasts only a heartbeat before he lifts his hand, sending a small splash of water toward Seokjin with a mischievous grin. The beta yelps in protest, eyes widening in mock outrage, and retaliates instantly, flicking a wave right back at him. Laughter bubbles up between them as their playful battle begins, waves of warm water sloshing between them. Jungkook giggles, dodging Seokjin’s attacks as best as he can, but he’s not as fast as he thinks, soon, his hair is drenched, clinging to his forehead in wet strands.

“You little—” Seokjin growls playfully, reaching for him.

Jungkook squeaks and makes a split-second decision. He lunges, catching Seokjin’s wrist and pulling with all his strength. It’s barely enough to budge him, but Seokjin, whether intentionally or because of the water’s resistance, loses his balance.

With a startled gasp, he topples forward, face-first into the hot spring with a loud splash.

Jungkook bursts into laughter, clutching his stomach as Seokjin disappears beneath the surface. His joy is short-lived, though, because just as he takes a step back, the water in front of him erupts.

Seokjin resurfaces with a dramatic gasp, pushing his wet hair back from his face, and fixes Jungkook with an exaggerated pout. “Oh, you’re in for it now,” he warns, voice dripping with playful menace.

Jungkook yelps, eyes widening in realization, and immediately tries to escape, but it’s too late. Seokjin lunges for him with a wicked grin, his hands reaching out, and Jungkook knows he’s doomed.

Jungkook barely has time to react before Seokjin lunges, his hands finding his waist as he effortlessly lifts him. Jungkook yelps, thrashing playfully as he clings onto Seokjin’s shoulders. “Hyung! wait, wait! I—”

His plea is cut off by a startled squeal as Seokjin throws him into the water. The splash is loud, and when Jungkook surfaces, gasping, he’s met with the sight of Seokjin laughing, his head thrown back, eyes crinkled with amusement.

Jungkook wipes his face, breathless but grinning. He feels so light, so carefree. It’s been so long since he’s played like this, since he’s laughed so freely. There’s something about Seokjin, his warmth, his teasing nature, that makes Jungkook feel safe, makes him feel like it’s okay to let go.

Seokjin’s hands are firm but gentle as they settle around his waist, holding him steady in the water. The warmth of his palms is noticeable even against the heat of the spring, a grounding presence that makes Jungkook’s heart stutter.

 His breath comes out in a quiet puff, eyes still wide from the unexpected toss, but he doesn’t resist when Seokjin pulls him closer. The beta’s fingers brush against his damp skin, tucking stray strands of hair behind his ears, and Jungkook swears his entire body flushes from more than just the heat surrounding them.

"I didn’t mean to throw you that far," Seokjin murmurs, his voice filled with amusement but also a hint of genuine concern. His thumb sweeps gently over Jungkook’s cheek, his touch featherlight as if he’s memorizing the feel of him. "You’re lighter than I thought."

Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh, his hands instinctively landing on Seokjin’s shoulders for balance. "Or maybe you’re just really strong," he counters, his voice quieter now, his playful tone giving way to something softer.

Seokjin hums, tilting his head as if considering the statement, but his hands don’t move from where they rest against Jungkook’s skin. Instead, his grip subtly tightens, his thumbs tracing faint patterns along his waist. Jungkook feels the warmth bloom in his chest, unfamiliar but not unwelcome, a giddy kind of nervousness that makes his fingers curl against Seokjin’s skin.

Seokjin’s hands remain firm around Jungkook’s waist, holding him close as the laughter between them fades into something quieter, more intimate. Droplets of water cling to Seokjin’s lashes, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead. Without thinking, Jungkook lifts a hand, gently brushing the strands back, his fingertips grazing Seokjin’s temple.

The beta stills beneath his touch, his grip tightening, his breath catching just slightly. Jungkook doesn’t pull away. The touch feels grounding, comforting. His fingers linger for a moment longer before drifting down, resting lightly against the curve of Seokjin’s jaw. 

Seokjin’s eyes soften, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words come out. Instead, his arms settle more securely around Jungkook, holding him there, neither of them eager to move away.

Jungkook hesitates only for a second before he decides, he doesn’t want to put distance between them. His hands slide from Seokjin’s jaw to his neck, fingers curling gently around the warmth of his skin. The action brings them even closer, Jungkook’s chest pressing lightly against Seokjin’s. His pulse thrums beneath Jungkook’s fingertips, steady yet deep, and for a fleeting moment, he wonders if Seokjin can feel his own heart pounding just as fast.

The water ripples gently around them, steam rising in lazy swirls, creating a bubble of intimacy that makes everything else fade away. Jungkook’s heart is pounding so hard he’s sure Seokjin can feel it against the small space between their bodies. His gaze flickers down, just briefly, to the beta’s lips, the same lips that had kissed him earlier, and suddenly, the memory of it comes rushing back in full force.

Seokjin seems to notice. Of course, he does. His sharp eyes catch everything, and this time, instead of teasing, his expression shifts into something softer, unreadable, but undeniably fond. His hand moves then, thumb ghosting over Jungkook’s bottom lip, his touch barely there, yet it sets every nerve in Jungkook’s body alight.

"You’re so cute," Seokjin whispers, almost like a confession.

Jungkook barely has time to react before Seokjin is closing the distance between them, capturing his lips in another kiss. This one is different, less hesitant, more certain. It’s still soft, still warm, but there’s a depth to it now, a slow, deliberate press of lips that makes Jungkook melt against him. 

His fingers tighten against Seokjin’s neck, a small noise escaping the back of his throat before he can stop it, and Seokjin swallows it greedily, his hands pulling him in even closer.

The water laps around them, the world quiet except for the faint sound of their breathing, the distant rustle of trees, and the soft hum of contentment that Seokjin lets out when he finally pulls away, resting his forehead against Jungkook’s. His breath is warm against Jungkook’s lips, their noses brushing, neither of them willing to fully pull apart just yet.

"You’re dangerous," Seokjin sighs, his voice holding the smallest hint of teasing.

Jungkook blinks up at him, still dazed. "Me?" he asks, breathless.

Seokjin grins, running his hands up and down his sides in a slow, absentminded motion. "Yes, you. You’re too cute. It makes me want to keep kissing you."

Jungkook’s face burns, and Seokjin only laughs, pulling him even closer like he has no intention of letting go anytime soon.

Jungkook can’t help himself. He doesn’t want to overthink it, doesn’t want to hesitate and let the moment slip away. So, this time, he’s the one who closes the distance between them.

His lips press against Seokjin’s, hesitant at first, unsure if he’s doing it right, if he’s supposed to move a certain way. He has less experience, he knows that much, but Seokjin doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, the beta exhales a soft, almost relieved sigh, his arms wrapping fully around his waist, pulling him flush against him. 

The warmth of Seokjin’s bare skin against his own makes Jungkook shiver, though the water around them is hot. He feels the slow rise and fall of Seokjin’s chest beneath his palms, feels the way his hands settle at the small of his back, holding him firm but not restricting him. Letting him lead. Letting him take whatever he wants.

It sends a thrill through Jungkook, but when they finally part, the boldness from before disappears as quickly as it came. His face burns, and he does the only thing that feels safe, he buries himself in the crook of Seokjin’s neck, hiding from the world.

Seokjin chuckles, the sound warm and affectionate, his arms tightening just slightly, keeping Jungkook tucked close. A hand comes up to card through his damp hair, petting him so softly, so tenderly, as if he’s something precious. The beta presses a lingering kiss to the top of his head, and Jungkook feels it all the way down to his toes.

“You’re being so good,” Seokjin murmurs, his voice laced with fondness. “Too cute. I swear, Jungkookie, I must be the luckiest person alive.”

Jungkook groans into his neck, a high-pitched whine slipping out before he can stop it. He doesn’t know what to do with all these feelings, with the way Seokjin makes his heart race and his stomach flutter and his whole body feel light.

Seokjin laughs, rubbing slow, soothing circles against his back. “There’s no reason to be shy, you know,” he tells him, voice soft. “Never with me. Never with any of us. If you want something, just take it, pup. We’ll gladly let you.”

Jungkook makes a small sound, half-buried in Seokjin’s shoulder, still hiding, still unsure.

Seokjin’s hand slips up to the nape of his neck, fingers threading gently through his hair. He tilts his head just slightly, coaxing him closer, coaxing him out.

“Stop hiding, pup,” Seokjin murmurs, his voice soft but firm. “I want to see your face.”

The words strike something deep inside Jungkook, something instinctual. It’s the same feeling he’d had when Namjoon had told him to look at him, that quiet, undeniable urge to obey, to listen, to give in to the warmth of their attention. And so, without thinking, he does. Slowly, Jungkook lifts his head from Seokjin’s shoulder, his wide, doe eyes meeting his hyung’s.

Seokjin is smiling at him, and the sight makes Jungkook’s heart stutter. There’s no teasing smirk this time, no playful grin. Just pure, unfiltered fondness. His gaze is soft as he cups Jungkook’s face with both hands, his thumbs brushing lightly over damp skin before he leans in and presses a kiss to one cheek. Then the other. The gestures are sweet, tender, leaving Jungkook warm all over.

“Come on,” Seokjin says, voice gentle, as if he knows how dazed Jungkook feels. “Let’s go somewhere cozier.”

Jungkook lets himself be pulled along, following as Seokjin guides them toward one of the smaller pools connected to the main one. This one is positioned the highest, overlooking the entire hot spring area, giving them an unfiltered view of the breathtaking snowy landscape beyond. Steam rises from the water, curling into the crisp evening air, and the contrast between the heat surrounding them and the cold just beyond makes it feel like they’ve stepped into their own private world.

The pool itself is built into the natural rock formations, with smooth stone seats carved along the edges. Seokjin leads him to one, settling down first before pulling him down beside him. Their shoulders brush as they sink deeper into the water, the heat loosening the tension in Jungkook’s muscles.

Jungkook shifts a little in the warm water, glancing around the serene, empty landscape. “Why is it so quiet here?” he asks softly. “I thought hot springs would be more… busy?”

Seokjin smiles knowingly. “It’s one of the perks of being the pack alpha’s mate.”

Jungkook blinks, confusion flickering across his face. "What do you mean hyung?"

“I asked for the place to be empty today,” Seokjin explains, tilting his head toward him. “Just for us. So we could enjoy our date in peace.”

Jungkook stares at him, lips parting slightly. The realization hits him all at once, Seokjin had planned every detail. Had gone out of his way to make sure they had this moment, uninterrupted. That thought alone makes something flutter in Jungkook’s chest, warmth pooling in his stomach that has nothing to do with the hot water.

Seokjin chuckles, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from Jungkook’s forehead. “You’re too cute when you’re flustered.”

Seokjin settles back a little, eyes thoughtful as he gazes across the serene landscape before them. The steam from the hot springs rises lazily into the cold air, creating an ethereal atmosphere, and Jungkook can’t help but be pulled into the peacefulness of the moment. The soft warmth of the water surrounding him, the quiet beauty of the snow-covered trees, and Seokjin’s steady presence make everything feel right, as if they’re wrapped in their own little world.

“I brought you here because spring water is good for healing,” Seokjin finally says, his tone soft but serious. “Even though your leg seems fine now, I wanted to make sure it’s fully recovered.” His eyes shift to Jungkook’s leg, the one he had been so careful to tend to after he got here. “Honestly, your leg healed a lot faster than I expected. Still not as fast as a shifter’s would, but much quicker than I thought humans could manage.”

Jungkook blinks, processing the information. He hadn’t thought about it much, honestly, too focused on the present and the way things felt between them. But now that Seokjin points it out, it does seem odd. The injury had been bad enough that he’d expected a much longer recovery time. Yet, in just a few days, he had felt better already. And now, his leg was practically fine, almost no lingering pain, no swelling, nothing to indicate that he’d been hurt at all.

“I hadn’t really thought about it much,” Jungkook admits, his voice soft, looking down at the water as if it might hold the answer. “But it did heal really fast. Maybe it’s because of your care and your remedies. They must’ve helped.”

Seokjin nods, his gaze focused intently on Jungkook, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It certainly played a role,” he agrees. “But still… I don’t think humans should be able to heal this quickly. Not like this. It’s unusual.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly. He’s never really thought about it in that way, and now that Seokjin has pointed it out, a small knot forms in his stomach. “Do you think that’s a bad thing?” he asks, his voice uncertain, worried that something might be wrong with him.

Seokjin gently shakes his head, his hand coming to rest on Jungkook’s shoulder, a steady, reassuring presence. “No, I don’t think it’s bad,” he says, voice calm but sincere. “If anything, it just means you’re special. In every way. We’ll figure it out.” His expression softens, and he leans in a little, brushing a strand of hair from Jungkook’s face. “I’ll ask the elders about it when I have time. They might know more than I do.”

The words linger between them for a moment, heavy with an unspoken promise that they’ll find answers together, if needed. But Seokjin doesn’t dwell on it for long. With a soft chuckle, he changes the subject, as if pulling them both back to the present.

“So, what do you think of the view?” Seokjin asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief now. "Pretty amazing, huh?"

Jungkook smiles, grateful for the shift in conversation, his attention pulled once again to the breathtaking snowy landscape stretching out before them. The bright glow of the sun dances across the snow-covered trees, and for a moment, all worries seem distant, drowned out by the quiet serenity of the world around them.

Jungkook smiles, feeling a warmth settle in his chest as he takes in the view before them. "It’s really pretty," he agrees, his voice soft and sincere. The landscape is bathed in an almost magical, ethereal light. For a moment, everything feels perfect, as if time has slowed down just for them to enjoy this peaceful silence.

But then Seokjin breaks the stillness with a playful chuckle. "Not just the landscape, though," he teases, his eyes glinting with mischief as he turns to look at Jungkook. "I think you’re pretty too Kookie."

Jungkook feels the heat rise to his face instantly, his cheeks flushing pink. He stammers for a moment, caught off guard by the compliment, but before he can find the words, Seokjin flicks his chin lightly, an action that makes Jungkook huff out a nervous laugh. The teasing is becoming second nature now, and although Jungkook is used to it, it still catches him off guard every time, making his heart race.

But this time, something shifts within him. Perhaps it’s the warmth of the water, the softness of the moment, or maybe even the way Seokjin’s teasing has become a comfort, but Jungkook doesn’t shy away. Instead, he reaches out, grabbing Seokjin’s hand to stop the gesture mid-air. Their fingers brush, and without thinking, he interlaces them, the touch sending a rush of warmth through him.

Seokjin raises an eyebrow, surprised by the gesture, but there’s a softness in his expression, a tenderness that’s impossible to miss. Jungkook looks down at their joined hands, feeling a quiet sense of pride in himself, in how he’s starting to feel more confident around Seokjin. The teasing, the playful words, they used to leave him flustered, unsure, but now they just feel like part of their rhythm. Part of something real, thought they still fluster him.

Seokjin sighs, as if he’s come to a sudden realization, and the sound makes Jungkook glance up at him. "You can’t keep doing this," Seokjin says, his voice soft but laced with an underlying seriousness. "Every little thing you do is just... so adorable." His fingers tighten around Jungkook’s, pulling their hands closer between them. "Especially when you go out of your way to touch me. It’s too much to handle, Jungkookie."

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat at the words, a mixture of confusion and warmth blooming inside him. "What do you mean?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He’s not sure if he’s ready for Seokjin’s answer, but the question slips from his lips anyway.

Seokjin chuckles, his eyes softening as he looks at him. "You have no idea, do you?" he muses, his thumb gently brushing across Jungkook’s knuckles. "I like cute things, pup. And you, you’re... you’re one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen. Everything you do, your shy little gestures, the way you blush, the way you reach for me. It makes me want to hold you close and never let go."

Jungkook swallows, his breath catching in his throat. He doesn’t know how to respond to that, the words feeling too big, too overwhelming. His heart pounds in his chest, and yet, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to lean in just a little closer to Seokjin.

Before he can say anything, Seokjin raises their joined hands, bringing them to his lips. The soft kiss he presses to the back of his hand is so gentle and it sends a wave of warmth through his entire body. Seokjin nuzzles his hand lightly, his breath warm against Jungkook’s skin, and the tender gesture feels like a promise, an unspoken vow.

"You’re just too precious," Seokjin murmurs, his voice thick with affection. "You make my instincts go haywire. I don’t know what it is about you, but I can’t help myself. You’re everything I never knew I needed."

Jungkook’s breath catches at the raw honesty in Seokjin’s words. He feels his face flush even deeper, a mix of shyness and something else he can’t quite place bubbling in his chest. But instead of pulling away, he squeezes Seokjin’s hand gently, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude and longing. He doesn’t know what’s happening between them, doesn’t know where it’s going, but he knows he wants to stay here, right here, in this moment, with Seokjin by his side.

Jungkook’s heart races in his chest as he feels the weight of Seokjin’s words settle around him. The tender kiss, the gentle hold, everything about this moment is making his feelings twist in ways he hadn’t expected.

 He can’t quite explain why, but he wants to please Seokjin. He wants to show him that he’s not afraid of the affection he has been offering, that he’s ready to embrace this connection between them. His eyes flicker up to meet Seokjin’s, and despite the quiet rush of nerves bubbling inside him, he knows this is something he has to say.

Shyly, he opens his mouth, his voice barely above a whisper as the words leave his lips, trembling just a little. “Maybe... maybe I want it too. For you to hold me... and never let go.” His breath hitches slightly at the vulnerability of the confession. 

The weight of it feels heavy in the air, but he feels strangely lighter, as if speaking his thoughts aloud has relieved a burden he didn't even know he was carrying. He hopes Seokjin can sense how honest he is, how earnest his words are despite the bashfulness in his voice.

The reaction is immediate. He can feel Seokjin’s scent shift, thickening in the air, a heady mix of something strong and dark that fills the space between them. Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat as Seokjin’s hands tighten around his, and he watches as the older’s eyes darken with something he can’t quite place, a mixture of desire and approval. It makes Jungkook’s heart skip a beat, and before he can say anything more, Seokjin’s lips curl into a smirk, one that sends a shiver down his spine.

Seokjin leans in slightly, his voice low and teasing, but there’s an edge to it now, something dangerous that makes Jungkook feel like he’s falling into a trap he might never want to escape from. 

“So,” Seokjin begins, his tone playful, but there’s an intensity behind his words that has Jungkook’s stomach twisting. “You want me to hold you, huh? To wrap my arms around you and never let go? To kiss you breathless?” Seokjin’s fingers caress Jungkook’s wrist gently, but there’s a firmness to the way he grips him, like he’s trying to make a point.

Jungkook’s pulse quickens as Seokjin continues, his voice growing darker.“You want me to touch you again? To mark you with my scent, so everyone knows who you belong to?” 

The words hang in the air like a heavy promise, and Jungkook’s cheeks burn with a mixture of shame and longing. He knows this is a game, a challenge, Seokjin trying to get a reaction out of him, that he’s testing his limits, trying to make him flinch, or laugh, or maybe even pull away. But Jungkook doesn’t do any of those things.

In fact, the more Seokjin pushes, the more Jungkook realizes that he doesn’t want to back down. He knows it’s humiliating in a way, that he’s being teased, played with, really, but something about it feels so intoxicating. 

It’s the way Seokjin is making him feel so wanted, so desired, in a way that almost no one has ever made him feel before. There’s a vulnerability to it, an honesty in Seokjin’s teasing that has Jungkook feeling both embarrassed and thrilled at the same time.

It’s almost too much to bear, the warmth of Seokjin’s body close to his, the way his words slip under his skin, the way they make Jungkook’s breath come faster, his heart pound harder. He can’t help the rush of emotion that builds inside him, a mix of desperation and something deeper, something sweeter. 

His stomach churns with both the discomfort of the teasing and the undeniable pleasure of being the center of Seokjin’s attention. It’s as if he’s being pulled in two different directions, but he doesn’t want to fight it. He doesn’t want to pull away. Instead, he leans into Seokjin’s touch, a small, breathless whine escaping his lips as he feels the weight of Seokjin’s gaze upon him.

The embarrassment is still there, still pressing at the back of his mind, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the heady, almost dizzying pleasure of knowing that Seokjin’s desire for him is real, tangible, and he’s the one that’s driving this. He can’t explain why it excites him so much to be the object of Seokjin’s teasing, but he feels a strange sense of satisfaction in it, like he’s being played with in the most intimate way possible.

Seokjin chuckles softly, watching him closely, his eyes full of amusement, but there’s a softness there too, an affection that Jungkook can’t ignore. “You like it, don’t you?” Seokjin asks, his voice almost a purr, and Jungkook can’t find it in himself to lie. He nods, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he feels his pulse quicken.

“Good,” Seokjin murmurs, his lips curling into a smile. “Because I like you just the way you are, shy, sweet, and so damn cute when you’re embarrassed.” His words are teasing, but there’s a genuine warmth in them that makes Jungkook feel like he’s floating. 

He doesn’t know what to say in return, so instead, he just tightens his grip on Seokjin’s hand, letting the moment wash over him as Seokjin pulls him closer, holding him tighter, never letting go.

Jungkook feels an almost overwhelming pull toward the beta, a magnetic force that tugs at him with each passing second. His breath comes quicker as he instinctively inches closer, craving the warmth of Seokjin's body against his, the comfort of the older man's touch. 

He doesn't even think about it, he simply needs to be closer, to feel Seokjin’s presence completely engulf him. As his movements grow bolder, Seokjin watches him with that mixture of amusement and something deeper in his gaze, something that makes Jungkook's heart race. He knows, without a doubt, that Seokjin can sense his desperation.

"Tell hyung what you want," Seokjin’s voice is low, teasing, but there’s an edge of something else in it, a quiet challenge that makes Jungkook’s pulse quicken. The words swirl in the air, and for a brief moment, Jungkook hesitates. His thoughts scatter, the weight of the question sinking in as he realizes that he has to articulate his desires, to voice what’s been swirling in his chest. But the desire is undeniable, burning in his veins like a fire.

Jungkook swallows hard, his throat dry, but he forces the words out, his voice trembling slightly from the rawness of his need.

“I… I want to be closer," he says, his voice wavering. It feels almost impossible to admit out loud, but once the words are out, he feels a sense of relief. 

“I… I want to be held again, hyung," he stutters, his face burning at how vulnerable he sounds. "I… want to sit on your lap." The confession feels like it’s stripped him bare, exposing him in a way he’s never been before. But there’s something about Seokjin’s steady presence, the way he’s always made Jungkook feel safe, that gives him the courage to say it.

Seokjin exhales sharply, his gaze darkening just a fraction, a subtle hint of struggle behind his calm demeanor. Jungkook can see the tension in his hyung’s jaw, the way his hands flex slightly as if he’s fighting to stay composed. 

It makes Jungkook's heart race even more, knowing he’s pushing Seokjin to his limits, knowing he’s causing that spark of need in his eyes. But Seokjin doesn’t move right away. Instead, he smiles, his lips curling up in that teasing way that makes Jungkook’s stomach flutter.

“Ask for it properly, Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin says, his voice still calm but now carrying an edge of amusement. “You want it, don’t you? Then ask for it.” 

The playful challenge in his tone is impossible to resist. Jungkook knows what Seokjin is doing, he knows this is just another game to him, but he’s already so far gone, already so lost in the need to be close to Seokjin that he can’t even think about not playing along.

Without thinking, without pausing to weigh the words, Jungkook blurts it out, his voice trembling and soft, laced with barely held-in need. “Please, hyung… can I sit on your lap?” His fingers curl against Seokjin’s bare chest, touch light and hesitant, like he’s scared to press too hard. “I just… I want you to hold me. Please?”

 His words are out before he can stop them, the sincerity in his tone raw and open. He feels the vulnerability rush over him again, his cheeks flushing with the intensity of it, but it doesn’t matter. Not when Seokjin is looking at him like that, with so much affection.

Seokjin doesn’t say anything right away. He just watches Jungkook, his eyes darkening with a kind of hunger that makes Jungkook shiver. Then, finally, the beta reaches for him, his strong hands wrapping around Jungkook’s waist with surprising ease. 

He lifts him effortlessly, positioning Jungkook in his lap, facing him. The contact is immediate and intense, and Jungkook doesn’t even think about it. He wraps his arms around Seokjin’s neck, pulling him closer, his body fitting there like it was always meant to.

Seokjin’s hands rest on Jungkook’s waist, the grip firm but gentle, as he smiles at him with a teasing glint in his eyes. “So needy,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with satisfaction. Jungkook’s heart beats even faster at the words, his breath catching in his throat. 

Seokjin’s smirk widens, and he leans closer, his lips brushing against Jungkook’s ear as he continues to tease. “You’re so desperate for my touch, aren’t you? You need me, don’t you, Jungkookie?” His voice is almost a purr, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down his spine.

Jungkook’s body responds instinctively to Seokjin’s words, his grip tightening around the beta’s neck, pulling him even closer. The teasing, the taunting, it’s almost too much to bear, but Jungkook doesn’t want it to stop.

He’s never felt more alive, more attuned to his own desires, than he does right now, with Seokjin holding him, his body flush against his. It’s humiliating in a way, how much he loves being played with like this, but it’s also addicting, thrilling. Every time Seokjin speaks, every word that slips from his lips only seems to pull Jungkook deeper into the feeling, into the connection between them.

“Yes, hyung,” Jungkook admits, his voice quiet but filled with a rawness that surprises even himself. He’s not sure where this is coming from, this boldness, this need, but it’s spilling out of him, and he doesn’t want it to stop. He’s not sure how far he’s willing to go, how much of himself he’s ready to give, but right now, in Seokjin’s arms, he feels like he could give it all.

Jungkook can hardly breathe. His skin feels hot, every nerve in his body attuned to the way Seokjin touches him, to the way the beta’s fingers press into his waist just enough to keep him still, just enough to remind him that he’s entirely at Seokjin’s mercy. 

His face is burning, embarrassment curling hot in his stomach, but it’s not unpleasant, not in the way it should be. Instead, it coils around him like something addictive, something he craves more of, even as his mind screams at him that he shouldn’t. But it’s impossible to resist, not when Seokjin is looking at him like this, all sharp amusement and dark, simmering want.

The beta hums, tilting his head slightly, the teasing smirk on his lips never wavering. “You really are adorable, Jungkookie,” he muses, voice smooth, like he’s toying with something fragile, something precious. 

His thumb brushes over the curve of Jungkook’s hip, slow and deliberate, watching for every little reaction. “I like playing with you.” There’s something almost lazy about the way he says it, like he’s enjoying drawing this out, enjoying the way Jungkook trembles under his hands. Then, after a moment, his eyes glint with mischief. “Do you like it, too? Do you like being played with, pup?”

Jungkook’s breath hitches, his heart hammering against his ribs. He does, he knows he does, knows he loves the way Seokjin teases him, pushes him, pulls reactions from him so easily. But admitting it out loud is another thing entirely. His throat feels tight, the words caught there, but Seokjin waits, watching him, eyes sharp and expectant.

Jungkook nods, unable to do anything else, but Seokjin only clicks his tongue in disapproval, shaking his head. “Use your words,” he chastises, his voice dripping with amusement. “I want to hear you say it.”

Jungkook exhales shakily, his fingers curling against Seokjin’s shoulders. He swallows, trying to steady his voice, but when he speaks, it still wavers, soft and uncertain. “I… I like it when you play with me, hyung.”

Seokjin’s smirk widens, his eyes darkening slightly. 

“Good boy,” he murmurs, and Jungkook shudders, warmth pooling low in his stomach at the quiet praise. 

Before he can even process it, Seokjin leans in, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of his throat, just barely there, a ghost of a kiss. The sensation makes Jungkook tense, his breath catching, but then Seokjin speaks against his skin, his voice low and intimate, and the way his lips move with every word sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine.

“Tell me why,” Seokjin coaxes, pressing another soft kiss against the curve of Jungkook’s neck. His fingers tighten on Jungkook’s waist, just enough to make his presence known, just enough to keep him in place. “Tell me why you like it. How does it make you feel?”

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, the words catching in his throat. His whole body feels like it’s burning, torn between the overwhelming embarrassment and the undeniable need curling in his chest. But Seokjin is patient, he always is. He waits, teasing, coaxing, pulling the words from Jungkook like it’s a game, like he enjoys watching him struggle.

Finally, Jungkook manages to force the words out, his voice barely above a whisper. “It… it makes me feel embarrassed,” he admits, and Seokjin hums in approval, his lips curving against Jungkook’s skin. But Jungkook isn’t finished. 

His fingers tighten slightly against Seokjin’s shoulders as he continues, voice shaky but sincere. “But… not in a bad way,” Jungkook mumbles, eyes dropping to his lap. “I—I mean… I like it. When you say those things. I like the attention...”

Seokjin chuckles softly, the vibration of it sinking into Jungkook’s skin. “Oh?” he muses, his breath warm against Jungkook’s throat. “So you like feeling embarrassed?”

Jungkook’s face burns, the words making him squirm slightly in Seokjin’s hold, but Seokjin only pulls him closer, his grip firm and unyielding.

“Do you like being my little doll, Jungkookie?” Seokjin murmurs, his voice dripping with amusement and something darker, something that makes Jungkook’s stomach tighten. “Do you like knowing that I can do whatever I want with you?”

Jungkook lets out a shaky breath, his entire body trembling at the weight of Seokjin’s words. He should be embarrassed, he is embarrassed, but the way Seokjin says it, the way he makes it sound so inevitable, so natural, makes something inside Jungkook melt. He feels small in the best way, feels like he belongs here, in Seokjin’s hands, being teased and toyed with and adored all at once.

He doesn’t even think before answering, the words slip out before he can stop them, soft and shaky. “I… I like it,” he stammers, voice barely above a whisper. His fingers fidget in his lap, eyes fixed on them, too flustered to look up. “I like how you make me feel…”

He trails off, swallowing hard, cheeks burning. “I like feeling small,” he admits, quieter now, like he’s scared the words might come out wrong. “And… kind of… ashamed. But in a good way.”

His shoulders curl in slightly, like he wants to hide, but still, he says it. Because it’s the truth, even if it makes his heart feel like it might burst.

Seokjin curses softly against his skin, his breath coming just a little sharper now. Jungkook feels it, the slight shift in Seokjin’s control, the way his hands tighten just a fraction more, the way his chest rises and falls with a little more force. And then Seokjin leans in again, pressing another lingering kiss to his throat, the heat of his lips making Jungkook shiver.

“You’re so perfect,” Seokjin murmurs, his voice lower now, almost reverent. “And you don’t even realize what you do to me, do you?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer, he can’t. His mind is too hazy, too full of Seokjin, of the way the beta is holding him like he never intends to let go. And right now, in this moment, Jungkook doesn’t ever want him to.

Seokjin exhales sharply, his grip tightening just slightly on Jungkook’s waist, as if he’s trying to hold himself back. His scent is thick in the air, wrapping around Jungkook like a warm embrace, and it makes him dizzy, makes him ache for more. The beta’s voice is lower now, rougher, as he murmurs against Jungkook’s flushed skin, his lips brushing over his jaw, his throat, leaving a trail of heat wherever they graze.

“I like this too,” Seokjin confesses, voice quiet but full of something raw and unrestrained. His fingers flex against Jungkook’s sides, digging in just a little, grounding them both. “I like the way you get all soft and sweet with me. The way you melt so easily in my hands.” He chuckles softly, breath ghosting over Jungkook’s ear as he tilts his head. “So needy.”

Jungkook shudders, heat licking up his spine at the teasing words. It’s humiliating how much he likes hearing that, how much he craves it. Seokjin is relentless, pushing him, testing him, pulling reactions from him like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“I like having you on my lap like this,” Seokjin continues, his hands moving slightly, smoothing over Jungkook’s back, as if to emphasize his words. “Like holding you close. Like taking care of you.” His tone turns lower, more teasing. “Like making you whine and whimper for me.”

Jungkook feels like he’s burning alive, his heart hammering against his ribs, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away. If anything, he presses in closer, his fingers tightening in the fabric of Seokjin’s clothes, needing to hold onto something, needing to ground himself. But Seokjin isn’t done, not yet.

“You don’t know how much I’m struggling right now,” the beta admits, exhaling heavily. He tilts his head back slightly, looking up at Jungkook through lidded eyes, dark and filled with something unspoken.

“I just want to pin you down, you know that?” He shakes his head slightly, like he’s scolding himself, but his grip on Jungkook’s waist tightens, his restraint evident in the way his fingers press into soft flesh. “You make it so hard for me, pup.”

Something inside Jungkook shatters at those words. The desperation bubbling inside him finally reaches its breaking point, spilling over before he can stop it. He doesn’t even care about the embarrassment anymore. He just wants. 

Wants to be connected to Seokjin, wants to be his, wants Seokjin to be his, too. And if there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s that Seokjin likes when he takes initiative.

So he does.

Jungkook shifts slightly in his lap, his breath hitching as he tightens his hold around the beta’s shoulders. His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, thick with desperation, raw with need. 

“Please,” he breathes out, barely thinking, barely aware of what he’s even saying anymore. “Please, hyung… kiss me again.”

Seokjin stills.

For a moment, Jungkook wonders if he’s said something wrong, if he’s crossed some sort of line, but then Seokjin curses, the sound low and guttural, like he’s barely holding himself together. His pretty purple eyes snap up, dark and intense, raking over his face like he’s trying to memorize every little detail, his flushed cheeks, his parted lips, the way his eyes are unfocused and hazy.

“You,” Seokjin exhales, shaking his head in disbelief. “You have no idea how pretty you look right now.”

And then, before Jungkook can even think, before he can process, Seokjin kisses him.

The kiss is desperate. It’s hard and fast-paced, all heat and hunger, all-consuming in a way that leaves Jungkook breathless. He barely has time to react before Seokjin is pulling him in, taking from him, swallowing every little gasp and whimper that slips from his lips. Jungkook can only hold on, gripping Seokjin’s shoulders like they’re the only thing keeping him grounded, like he might float away otherwise.

And he likes it.

He likes surrendering to Seokjin, likes the way the beta takes control, the way he kisses him like he can’t get enough, like he never wants to stop. It makes something inside Jungkook ache, makes him feel wanted, makes him feel owned. And he never imagined that this feeling of belonging to someone could ever feel so good.

Seokjin groans softly against his mouth, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, his hands moving up to cradle Jungkook’s face, thumbs brushing over his flushed cheeks. His lips part just slightly, and then he’s sucking on Jungkook’s bottom lip, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring him, like he wants to leave him completely wrecked.

Jungkook lets out a soft, broken sound at that, and he feels Seokjin grin against his lips, like he’s pleased, like he’s satisfied with the reaction he’s gotten. But he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, keeps mumbling out breathless praises between kisses, his voice rough and warm and utterly intoxicating.

“Such a good pup,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to Jungkook’s lips. “So sweet for me.” Another kiss. “So eager.” Another, deeper this time. “So perfect.”

Jungkook gasps softly at that, his fingers tightening around the beta’s shoulders, and the moment he does, Seokjin takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss even further, tilting Jungkook’s head slightly, claiming him completely.

Jungkook doesn’t even try to fight it.

He lets himself fall, lets himself be kissed breathless, lets himself belong to Seokjin in this moment. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The kiss breaks, but Seokjin doesn’t pull away, doesn’t put any space between them. Instead, he stays close, his breath warm against Jungkook’s kiss-swollen lips, his hands still firm on his waist. His gaze is dark, half-lidded, focused solely on Jungkook as if nothing else in the world exists. And maybe, for Jungkook, nothing else does.

“Can I scent you?” Seokjin murmurs, the words spoken against his lips, like a secret meant only for him.

Jungkook barely has time to process before the answer is already spilling from his mouth, raw and unfiltered, soaked in need. “Please,” he begs, voice barely above a whisper, desperate. “Please, scent me. I want…” His breath catches as his fingers dig into Seokjin’s shoulders, clinging, holding on. “I want to smell like you. I want…” He swallows, cheeks burning. “I want to belong to you.”

Seokjin growls. It’s low, deep in his chest, and it sends a shiver straight through Jungkook, makes his stomach flutter with something hot and electric. He doesn’t waste a second. The beta surges forward, going straight for Jungkook’s throat, lips dragging along sensitive skin, peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses against his pulse point. Each one sends sparks shooting through Jungkook’s veins, makes him tilt his head instinctively, offering more, offering everything.

Then, Seokjin moves, lips trailing along the side of his neck.

Jungkook melts.

It’s like a switch flips inside him. The second Seokjin scents him, rubbing his cheek along his throat, his whole body goes lax, every muscle unwinding all at once. He slumps forward, completely pliant in his hyung’s hold, a soft, breathy sound slipping from his lips as the beta surrounds him in warmth, in safety, in him.

Seokjin hums, pleased, his grip tightening just slightly, like he enjoys the way Jungkook softens against him, the way he lets himself be taken care of. “Good pup,” he murmurs against his skin, his voice deep, velvety, tinged with something dangerous. He nuzzles against the spot, his scent thickening, claiming. “You smell so good like this.” Another kiss, slow and lingering, followed by a soft inhale. 

“Like you’re mine.”

Jungkook feels light-headed. It’s too much, yet not enough, not nearly enough. His fingers curl into Seokjin’s hair, gripping, desperate, because he needs more, he needs Seokjin to do something, because if he doesn’t, Jungkook swears he’s going to die right here in his lap.

So he begs.

His arms tighten around Seokjin’s neck, pulling him closer, pressing their bodies together so there’s no space between them. He barely registers what he’s saying, only that he has to say it, that he’ll do anything if it means Seokjin will listen. 

“Please,” he gasps, voice trembling, shaking with need. “Please, claim me.”

Seokjin stiffens.

For a moment, everything is silent, so heavy and thick that Jungkook can barely breathe. And then, just as suddenly, Seokjin exhales sharply, like the air has been knocked straight from his lungs.

“Say that again,” Seokjin demands, his voice rough, uneven.

Jungkook swallows. His heart is pounding, his whole body burning, but he doesn’t hesitate. The omegas had told him before, told him that this was what he should say. That Seokjin would like it. That it would make him happy. He had never done it before, never even thought about it before, but right now, in this moment, there’s nothing he wants more than to make his hyung happy.

So he does.

His fingers tremble slightly as he grips Seokjin’s shoulders, as he leans in close, voice small and shaky but certain.

“Jin-hyung,” he breathes. “Please. Please, claim me.”

Seokjin snaps.

Seokjin’s eyes go so dark, pupils blown wide with something raw, something primal. His grip tightens, possessive, unyielding, before he lunges, teeth meeting Jungkook’s neck in a claiming that feels more instinct than thought, more need than reason.

The second it happens, Jungkook feels it, a rush of something so visceral, so right, that it nearly knocks the breath from his lungs. It’s overwhelming, the sharp sting of Seokjin’s teeth sinking into his skin, the warmth of his breath ghosting over the sensitive spot, the way his body instantly reacts, going soft, melting against Seokjin’s hold. It feels like everything in him is clicking into place, like this was meant to happen, like this is where he’s supposed to be, pliant and desperate, his.

Seokjin growls, low and rumbling against his throat, his arms locking around Jungkook’s waist as if he never plans to let go. The sound makes something deep inside Jungkook shudder, a trembling whimper slipping past his lips, his fingers curling into Seokjin’s shoulders as the beta holds him so tight, like he’s afraid he’ll slip away if he lets up even the slightest bit.

Everything is too much, the heat of the steam surrounding them, the thick scent of Seokjin, rich and consuming, wrapping around him like a blanket, making him feel warm, safe, wanted. But at the same time, it’s not enough, not nearly enough, and that contradiction makes something in him ache, makes his body shiver under the intensity of it all.

Jungkook doesn’t even realize he’s shaking until he feels Seokjin shift beneath him, hears the sharp inhale against his neck. There’s a split second of hesitation before a strong hand suddenly fists into his hair, gripping tight, pulling his head back in one fluid motion, forcing him to bare his neck completely.

He whimpers.

The sound is embarrassingly high, soft and needy, slipping from his throat before he can even think about stopping it. The sensation of Seokjin taking what he wants, of guiding his movements so effortlessly, so easily, makes his stomach twist, makes something hot curl at the base of his spine. 

He likes this, likes the feeling of being good, of submitting, of letting Seokjin have him. And Seokjin, God, Seokjin, seems to know, seems to thrive off it, his grip tightening just slightly, just enough to make Jungkook feel like he has no choice but to stay exactly where the beta wants him.

By the time Seokjin finally pulls back, Jungkook is panting, chest rising and falling rapidly, lips parted as he tries to process the sheer intensity of what just happened. But he doesn’t get the chance, doesn’t get even a second to think, before Seokjin is on him again, capturing his lips in a kiss that is just as desperate as before, just as overwhelming, just as consuming.

Seokjin keeps his hold firm, one hand still tangled in Jungkook’s hair, still keeping his neck bared, while the other presses against the small of his back, pulling him in, pressing their bodies together like he wants to fuse them into one. And Jungkook can do nothing but surrender, let Seokjin take what he wants, let his hyung have him, let himself be claimed in every way possible.

And he wants it.

Seokjin breaks the kiss slowly, pulling back just enough for their lips to part, but he doesn’t go far. His breath still fans over Jungkook’s lips, warm and steady, grounding in a way that makes him feel like he could float away if he wasn’t held so firmly in place. 

His body is still trembling, still reeling from everything that just happened, but then Seokjin is looking at him, really looking at him, with so much softness, so much adoration, that Jungkook almost can’t handle it. His stomach twists, his heart clenches, and suddenly the teasing glint in Seokjin’s eyes is gone, replaced with something tender, something deep.

Then, in a voice that is much steadier now, calmer but no less intense, Seokjin murmurs, "Say it again."

Jungkook blinks, brain sluggish from the haze of everything, body still buzzing with the aftershocks of sensation. It takes him a moment to process, a moment to catch up, but then, then he understands. Seokjin wants him to say it again. Wants him to call him that again.

His breath hitches, his cheeks flushing hotter as he realizes just how much Seokjin had liked that, how much he had wanted to hear it. And before he can even think twice, before he can stop himself, the words tumble past his lips, barely more than a breathless mess, "Jin-hyung."

The second it leaves his mouth, Seokjin melts.

A quiet, pleased hum escapes him, and then suddenly their foreheads are pressed together, his hands holding Jungkook close, thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles against his waist. He murmurs against his lips, voice so fond, so full of warmth, "You’ve been so good, Jungkookie. So, so good for me."

Jungkook’s chest tightens, throat going tight, and he doesn’t know why he suddenly feels so emotional, but it’s there, pressing against his ribcage, making it hard to breathe.

"I’m so lucky," Seokjin continues, voice thick with something that makes Jungkook’s heart pound. "So lucky that you let me take care of you. Do you know how much I’ve wanted this? How much I’ve wanted you to be mine?"

Jungkook’s fingers curl into Seokjin’s hair, holding on like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. His heart feels too full, too much, and yet, it feels right. It feels safe.

So he doesn’t hesitate when he whispers back, "I wanted to be yours too."

Seokjin lets out a shaky exhale, and for a moment, they just stay like that, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, holding each other close. Then, unable to resist, Jungkook leans in and presses the softest, lightest kiss against Seokjin’s lips, barely a touch, just a gentle brush, a quiet confirmation of everything he feels.

Seokjin chuckles, breathless but utterly enchanted, his arms tightening around Jungkook as if he never wants to let go. 

"God, you’re so pretty, Jungkookie," he murmurs, voice dripping with affection. "So sweet. I just want to keep you here forever, hidden from the world, away from danger. I want to keep you safe in my arms, always."

Jungkook sighs, eyes fluttering shut, sinking deeper into Seokjin’s embrace. And in that moment, he thinks that he wants that too.

Jungkook feels so good. Boneless and vulnerable, his entire body loose and heavy with the aftermath of everything. He feels warm, sluggish, like his limbs are weighed down by something soft and pleasant, like sinking into the coziest, safest place he’s ever known. His head lolls slightly before he blinks up at Seokjin, his lips barely parting as he murmurs, « Sleepy, hyung »

Seokjin chuckles, voice rich with amusement but dripping with fondness, his arms tightening just a fraction around him. "Of course you are," he hums, brushing a hand down Jungkook’s back in soothing strokes. "That’s normal. Your instincts are all over the place after a claiming, that’s why you feel heavy, why your body is demanding rest. But don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you. Hyung will take care of you."

Jungkook hums softly at that, the words settling somewhere deep inside his chest, making him feel even softer, even safer. His eyelids are already growing heavier, his body seeking out comfort on instinct, and he doesn’t hesitate when Seokjin murmurs, "Close your eyes for a bit. Just rest, sweetheart. I won’t let go."

He shifts slightly, pressing closer, wrapping his arms tighter around Seokjin’s neck before resting his head on the beta’s shoulder. The steady beat of Seokjin’s heart is right beneath his ear, grounding and comforting, and Jungkook lets himself sink into it.

 The warmth of the water, the strong arms around him, the soft, constant praise in Seokjin’s voice, it’s all too much, but in the best way.

His breathing evens out, his body going completely lax, and as his mind begins to drift into the pull of sleep, the last thing he hears is Seokjin’s voice, murmuring against his temple,

"My sweet little treasure."

Notes:

Hey Lovelies!! 💖

I just can’t with Jin and Jungkook 😩💕. I know I say this for every single ship, but can you blame me? They’re so cute together! 🥺 And I’m obsessed with this dynamic where Jin keeps teasing Jungkook just to get those adorable reactions. And Jungkook admitting he actually likes feeling embarrassed?? 🥰😭 Let me die in peace!!

Also, seriously, how is Jungkook not freaking out about Jin’s bare chest? 😳 And those thighs?! Hello?? 😍 I haven’t even mentioned the thighs, but I know I’d be losing it, like, wouldn’t we all? Maybe his breakdown with Yoongi and Namjoon made him stronger or more used to handsome, bare-chested men standing in front of him? Who knows 😂.

And the hot springs? 😍 How perfect is that for a first date?! And Jin totally using his “Pack alpha’s mate” privilege to clear the place out just for them 👑 We love a privileged king, haha!

--

Sorry for the wait, guys! I feel like I say this every update, but I’ve just been busy 😅 Not 100% all the time, but sometimes work gets so tiring that you barely have energy on your days off? That’s exactly what happened. And honestly, I won’t promise it will get better 😂 but I will definitely try my best for you all.

Can’t believe it’s been almost a month and a half since I got back to work, and my body still isn’t used to it 😩 I feel like I spend all my days off sleeping (which isn’t totally bad because I love sleep 😴), but it’s definitely not great for my updating schedule haha.

Anyway, I hope you’re all doing well! Whether it’s school, uni, work, or whatever you’re up to, take care of yourselves 🥰 Remember to drink water 💧 I just know some of you complain about headaches and it’s just dehydration!! So please, drink water! And eat well too!

Also — BTS is coming back so soon!!! 🎉 Can’t wait!!

Chapter 48: Bonds and Breach

Summary:

Jungkook and Jin enjoy the warmth of their post-claim bliss

Notes:

I usually save my notes for the end, but I just had to pop in and say that I'm sorry for the wait! Thank you for being patient, and I’ll see you again in the end notes!

Jungkook stirs slowly, waking to the sensation of long fingers threading gently through his damp hair, the rhythmic rise and fall of a steady chest beneath him, and the comforting weight of strong arms wrapped securely around his body.

There’s a warmth that surrounds him, not just from the water still lapping softly against his skin, but from the scent of jasmine that lingers in the air, sweet and familiar, grounding him in a way that makes his entire body feel light.

He can hear the faintest vibrations of a soft hum reverberating through the chest he’s resting against, feel the soothing motion of fingers carding through his hair, and for a fleeting moment, Jungkook thinks that he never wants to leave this place, this feeling.

He wants to stay in this cocoon of warmth and safety forever.

But then the humming stops, and the gentle fingers in his hair shift, trailing down to brush, featherlight, over his cheek. The touch is warm and tender. A quiet voice follows soon after, gentle and filled with a softness that makes Jungkook’s chest ache.

“Did you sleep well?”

Jungkook barely manages to let out a drowsy hum of affirmation, his voice lost somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, but it seems to be enough. They stay like that for a few lingering seconds, held in the quiet intimacy of the moment, until Jungkook finally blinks himself into awareness and lifts his head to look at Jin.

His eyes are still heavy with sleep, his body lax and pliant in the beta’s hold, but curiosity tugs at him nonetheless.

“How did you know I was awake?” he asks, his voice still thick with drowsiness.

Jin smiles, and it’s the kind of smile that makes warmth spread in Jungkook’s chest, gentle and knowing. His fingers return to Jungkook’s hair, playing absently with the strands as he replies.

“There’s a shift in someone’s scent when they wake up,” he explains, voice calm and sure. “When you spend a lot of time with someone, you start to pick up on the little changes.”

Jungkook blinks at him, letting the words settle in his mind. The thought of Jin knowing him that well, of him noticing even the smallest, most imperceptible changes, sends a shiver of something indescribable down his spine.

It makes him feel seen in a way that is both comforting and overwhelming. And when Jin’s fingers continue their lazy path through his hair, soothing and steady, Jungkook allows himself to sink back into the warmth, to close his eyes once more, content in the knowledge that Jin is holding him, watching over him, and that, for now, he is safe.

Jungkook shifts slightly in Jin’s hold, his fingers curling absently against the older’s shoulder as he blinks himself into full wakefulness. His body still feels heavy, his limbs warm and pliant, but his mind is starting to stir, thoughts bubbling up in the quiet space between them. He tilts his head just enough to glance up at Jin, noting the way the steam curls lazily around them, how the beta’s expression is relaxed yet fond, his eyes half-lidded but focused entirely on Jungkook.

The realization sends a flutter through his chest, something that makes him feel both exposed and comforted at the same time.

“How long did I sleep for?” he asks, voice still soft from drowsiness.

Jin hums, brushing a few strands of damp hair away from his forehead before answering.

“Not long,” he says. “Maybe ten minutes?”

There’s no complaint in his tone, only warmth, only something far softer than Jungkook knows what to do with.

“I didn’t mind,” Jin adds, his voice quieter now. “If anything, I wish you’d always fall asleep in my arms.”

Jungkook swallows at that, his chest tightening. He looks away, eyes dropping to the space between them, but he knows Jin can feel the way his scent shifts, the way his body tenses before going lax again.

His mind feels full. Despite the gentle warmth surrounding him, unease hums beneath his skin. His fingers twitch where they rest against Jin’s bare shoulder, and without thinking, they begin to trace idle shapes across the smooth skin. They drift over the faint ridges of what he knows are Jin’s mating marks, over the place where, if this were real, his own mark might be.

If this were permanent. If Jin were his mate. If he belonged here for real.

The thought crashes into him with startling force, catching him so off guard he nearly flinches. Jin isn’t his mate. Not like he is to the others. And Jungkook isn’t really his, not in the way that counts. But the ache that blooms in his chest says otherwise.

It’s real, the need, the longing. The desperate, bone-deep ache to belong to Jin, to all of them. To be part of something that feels this warm, this safe. And suddenly he’s spiraling, drowning in the fear that maybe none of this will last. That he’s a temporary guest in a sacred bond.

It doesn’t feel temporary. Not to him. To Jungkook, this is the most important thing that’s ever happened in his life.

But a claiming mark fades. It isn’t forever. And with that thought comes a rush of doubt so sharp it makes his throat tighten. What if this is fleeting? What if he’s the only one hoping for more? He squeezes his eyes shut. The spiral is pulling him under, until he remembers what they told him.

A claiming bite may fade, yes. But that doesn’t mean they see him as temporary.

That thought settles heavily in his chest, like a stone sinking into still water. Slow and Inevitable.

Jin claimed him.

Just like Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung did. 

The marks might not last. They’ll fade, vanish until only faint memories remain. But they’re there now. Bright, visible and undeniably real.

And to him, they feel permanent.

Irreversible.

The idea of them disappearing? Of waking up one day to find them gone?

It’s unbearable.

Absolutely devastating.

He doesn’t understand why everything feels so overwhelming, why every touch, every word from his hyungs shakes him down to his bones. He wonders if it’s because he’s human and they’re not, if they’ve simply grown used to these things, if they don’t feel them the same way he does. Maybe, to them, this is just another moment, something natural, something fleeting. But to Jungkook, it feels like the world shifting beneath his feet.

He must be too lost in thought because Jin shifts, adjusting his hold ever so slightly, before murmuring, “What are you thinking so hard about, hum?”

His tone is light, teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of something serious, something that says he might know Jungkook well enough to notice when he’s spiraling.

Jungkook exhales, hesitating for only a moment before deciding to tell the truth.

“Ever since I got here,” he admits, voice quieter now, “I’ve felt everything so intensely.” His fingers curl slightly against Jin’s skin, holding on as if grounding himself. “Like… it’s too much. Too big. I don’t know why. It's hard to explain.”

Jin listens, his thumb rubbing slow, absentminded circles against his waist, and for once, Jungkook doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence. He just waits, knowing Jin will respond in his own time.

Jungkook exhales shakily, barely aware of the way his fingers tighten on Jin's shoulders. His heart is too full, his thoughts too tangled, but he forces himself to put them into words, to let them spill past his lips before he loses the courage to say them out loud.

“It has never happened to me before,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “Feeling things like this.” He swallows, eyes lowering. “Maybe it’s because I lived such a… a bland life before this. Pain was the only thing I ever really knew. But here, with all of you, with the pack...” He hesitates, breath catching, but he pushes through. “I feel happy.”

Jin says nothing, only watching him with quiet patience, his hand still resting warm and steady against his waist, grounding him.

Jungkook shifts slightly, his free hand coming up to touch his own neck, fingertips ghosting over the sensitive skin where Jin’s claiming bite remains. His chest aches. “For me,” he continues, “this feels final. I know the marks will fade, but still… it feels like something that shouldn’t be temporary.” He swallows again, something tight and raw lodged in his throat.

“I don’t know what I would do if everything just… stopped. If I was ever separated from any of you.” His fingers curl into a fist against Jin’s chest. “I know it sounds crazy. It’s not like we’ve known each other for years, but it feels like we have.”

He forces himself to meet Jin’s gaze then, his lips parting as he struggles to put the last piece of his thoughts into words.

“I’m scared,” he admits, voice quieter now, more fragile. “I’m scared of how much I feel. Of how strong my feelings for all of you are growing, how fast they’re growing. It doesn’t feel… normal.”

Jin watches him carefully, something conflicted flickering in his eyes, but there’s no judgment there, no hesitation. Instead, he lifts a hand to cradle Jungkook’s cheek, his thumb brushing over the curve of his cheekbone in a touch so gentle it makes him shiver.

“I feel the same way,” Jin murmurs, and Jungkook’s breath catches.

Jin’s gaze is unwavering, steady as he continues. “And I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. It’s the truth.” His fingers tighten ever so slightly where they rest against Jungkook’s skin.

“I felt strongly about you before you even opened your eyes. It scared me too, because it’s the same feeling I had with all my mates when I first met them. This need to be close.” His lips twitch into a faint, self-deprecating smile. “I thought something was wrong with me at first. Thought it was just in my head. But it wasn’t.”

Jungkook stares at him, his chest tightening. “You—”

Jin interrupts him with a small nod, his expression softening. “I know it’s scarier for you,” he says, voice gentle. “You don’t know much about our world, and I won’t pretend to understand exactly what you’re feeling. But I do understand the fear of it. And I also know that it’s real.”

Jungkook feels something shift inside him, something unraveling just slightly at Jin’s words. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to say anything at all, but the warmth of Jin’s touch, the sincerity in his gaze, it soothes something deep inside him, something that has been tightly wound for far too long.

Jin’s fingers remain on his skin, his warmth grounding and steadying, his touch gentle but firm, like an unspoken reassurance that he’s here, that he’s listening. His eyes soften, lips parting on a quiet sigh before he speaks.

“Claiming marks are temporary,” he tells Jungkook gently. “They’re not mating bites, after all.” His thumb moves in slow circles against Jungkook’s skin, soothing, deliberate. “But… for me too, claiming you feels final.”

Jungkook watches him, wide-eyed, heart stuttering in his chest as Jin continues.

“When you’re claimed, someone else can claim you too. It's like courting offers.” Jin’s voice dips slightly, a shadow of something almost unrecognizable flickering through his expression. “But the thought of you being claimed by someone who isn’t one of us…” His jaw tightens, his grip around Jungkook’s waist shifting, fingers pressing just a little firmer into his skin. “It makes me want to scream.”

Jungkook exhales shakily, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Jin closes his eyes for a brief moment, as if composing himself, and when he opens them again, his gaze is steady, unshaken.

“The claiming bite on your neck feels final to me too,” he admits, voice quieter now, but no less intense. “Just like it did with every single one of my mates.” His lips quirk into something faintly resembling a self-deprecating smile. “I understand how it can be scary.”

Jungkook swallows, his throat dry, his emotions pressing heavy against his ribs.

Jin’s fingers slide from his cheek to cup the back of his neck, his touch warm, solid.

“Because it is big,” he continues. “Because you’ve never been loved like you deserve before. Because pain is all you’ve ever known.” His brows furrow, eyes scanning Jungkook’s face like he’s memorizing him, committing him to memory. “But we have all the time in the world, Jungkook-ah .” His voice softens, gentler now, threaded with something warm, something sure. “We have time to get closer, to strengthen our bonds. If that’s what you want too.”

Jungkook stares at him, lips parting slightly, his chest aching in a way he doesn’t quite understand, but he does know the answer to that. He knows it down to the marrow of his bones, down to the way his body instinctively leans into Jin’s warmth, down to the way his heart feels like it’s finally starting to settle in his chest.

“I do,” he whispers. “I want that too.”

Jin’s expression softens even further, like something inside him has eased, like he’s relieved in a way he hadn’t even realized he needed to be. Jungkook hesitates for only a moment before shifting, pressing his face into the curve of Jin’s neck, inhaling the scent of jasmine and warmth and home.

“Thank you, hyung” Jungkook murmurs against his skin. “For listening to me.”

Jin lets out a quiet chuckle, his arms tightening around Jungkook’s waist, his hand finding its way back into his hair. “You never have to thank me for that, pup.” His fingers trail gently through Jungkook’s damp strands, soothing, unhurried. “And you never have to hesitate to tell me how you feel.”

Jungkook sighs, allowing his body to relax fully against Jin’s, his heart still racing but lighter now, like some of the weight pressing against his chest has finally lifted. And he feels safe. Safe in Jin’s arms, safe in the warmth of his voice, safe in the quiet promise of time.

Jungkook hums softly, his fingers absentmindedly tracing over Jin’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his fingertips. “I’ll try,” he murmurs, voice quiet but firm, like a promise to himself as much as to Jin. “Sometimes I just… don’t even think about sharing my thoughts. I’ve almost always been alone, and it’s been safer that way.”

He exhales softly, his breath warm against Jin’s collarbone, and for a brief moment, his chest tightens at the realization of just how long he’s spent keeping things to himself, locking away every thought, every fear, every small piece of himself that might have made him seem vulnerable.

Jin doesn’t respond right away, but the hand in his hair tightens just slightly before loosening again, his thumb brushing idly against the back of his neck. Then, without hesitation, he leans in and presses a soft, lingering kiss to Jungkook’s cheek. The warmth of it spreads through Jungkook’s chest like honey, slow and thick and all-consuming.

“We’ll be patient with you,” Jin says, voice steady. “You don’t have to rush, and you don’t have to change overnight. Just… let us in when you're ready, okay?”

Jungkook nods, pressing his lips together as he lets Jin’s words settle deep inside him.

'Let us in when you're ready'. It’s simple, straightforward, and yet, it feels bigger than that. It feels like permission to take his time, like reassurance that he doesn’t have to fight against himself just to prove he belongs here.

They stay like that for a few more minutes, talking quietly, exchanging soft words in the warmth of the water, before Jin suddenly sighs and pulls back just enough to look at Jungkook properly. His lips curve into a small, teasing smile.

“We should probably get out now,” he says, amusement dancing in his eyes. “If we stay in this water for even one more minute, our skin is going to fall off.”

Jungkook snorts, rolling his eyes as he pulls away with a reluctant stretch of his limbs. “That’s not possible, hyung,” he argues, huffing out a soft laugh as he shifts to sit up. 

Jin gasps, feigning offense, before flicking water at Jungkook’s arm. “Are you questioning my wisdom?” he demands, but there’s no real heat behind his words.

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head as he splashes water back at him. “I am questioning your logic.”

Jin huffs, muttering something about ungrateful pups under his breath, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays him. After a few more moments of playful bickering, they finally agree to leave. They rinse themselves off quickly, before drying themselves and changing back into warm clothes. The cold air greets them the moment they step outside, crisp and fresh against their skin, and Jungkook takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the forest, of damp earth and woodsmoke lingering in the distance.

Jin glances at him, scanning his expression carefully before speaking. “We can go home if you’re too tired,” he offers, tugging his coat tighter around himself. “Or we can walk around a bit if you want to stay outside longer.”

Jungkook considers it for a moment, rolling his shoulders as he tests how he feels. The nap had helped, leaving him feeling warm and just a little sluggish, but he doesn’t want to go back inside just yet. He wants to stay out here, with Jin by his side.

“I feel fine,” he says, offering the older a small smile. “I want to stay outside for a bit.”

Jin nods, his own expression softening, and without another word, he reaches out and takes Jungkook’s hand, guiding him forward as they begin walking side by side through the cool air.

Jungkook isn’t sure what he expected when they reached the market, but the empty stalls and quiet streets feel almost eerie. Normally, the village square is bustling with energy, vendors calling out their daily specials, villagers exchanging goods and greetings, the scent of fresh bread and grilled meats hanging heavy in the air.

But now, there’s only stillness, a quiet that feels unnatural. It isn’t completely deserted, there are a few people scattered here and there, moving about their business, but it lacks the usual warmth, the liveliness that Jungkook has grown used to.

He steps a little closer to Seokjin, fingers grazing the fabric of the beta’s sleeve as they weave through the nearly empty pathways. “It’s quiet today,” he murmurs, eyes flickering between the vacant spaces where vendors usually set up shop.

Jin hums in agreement, though his expression remains neutral. “Yeah, but Halmeoni should be here,” he says as they approach the familiar stall. But it’s empty, her usual spread of dried herbs and homemade snacks nowhere to be seen. Jin frowns slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s always here around this time. Maybe she had to step away for something.”

Jungkook nods, trying to shake off the strange feeling creeping up his spine. It’s probably nothing. Maybe today is just an off day, and he’s overthinking things. Still, he can’t help but feel like something is off.

And then, Jin stops.

It isn’t just a normal pause. It’s abrupt, too sudden, too sharp. Jungkook almost walks right into him, but the beta doesn’t move, doesn’t react. He’s just standing there, staring straight ahead, but not really looking at anything. His body is tense, his shoulders squared, and there’s something unreadable in his expression.

“Hyung?” Jungkook reaches out, hesitantly taking Jin’s hand in his own. His fingers squeeze gently, a small attempt to pull the beta’s attention back to him, but Jin doesn’t respond. His palm is warm, steady, but his grip is loose, distracted.

Jungkook’s stomach twists. “Jin-hyung?” he tries again, firmer this time.

Then, finally, Jin’s eyes snap to him.

Urgency. That’s what Jungkook sees. It’s there in the tightness of Jin’s gaze, the way his brows furrow slightly, the way his entire body seems to have locked into place, bracing for something unseen. His lips part, but he hesitates for just a second before his voice comes out, low and serious.

“We have to go home. Now.”

Jungkook barely has a chance to react before Jin’s grip tightens around his wrist, firm but not painful, and suddenly, he’s being pulled forward. There’s no room for questions, no hesitation, just movement. The beta’s pace is quick, urgent, his free hand curled into a fist at his side.

“Wait—hyung, what—?” Jungkook stumbles slightly as he tries to keep up, heart pounding. The market, the empty stalls, the quiet afternoon, it all blurs past them as Jin moves with a singular purpose, his steps sure and unwavering.

“Joon reached out to us,” Jin says, voice clipped, controlled, but Jungkook can hear the tension beneath it. “Told us to go home immediately.”

Jungkook’s breath catches. Namjoon doesn't seem like the type of alpha to give orders without reason. If he’s telling them to return without explanation, it means something serious is happening.

“Why?” Jungkook presses, his own grip tightening around Jin’s fingers. “Did he say what’s wrong?”

Jin shakes his head sharply. “No. Just told us to go home. But I know it’s important.” His jaw tightens, and when he speaks again, his voice is lower, quieter. “I could hear it in his voice. Something’s wrong.”

A chill runs down Jungkook’s spine. The urgency in Jin’s tone, the way his posture remains tense, how his grip refuses to loosen, it all feeds into the growing unease curling in Jungkook’s chest. His mind races with possibilities, none of them good. Was the pack in danger? Did something happen to Namjoon? To Yoongi?

He doesn’t ask, though. He doesn’t argue. Instead, he grips Jin’s hand a little tighter and follows him without question, their hurried steps echoing against the empty streets as they make their way back home.

The journey back to the pack house is silent but tense, the air around them thick with unspoken worry. Jungkook’s fingers are still wrapped tightly around Jin’s, holding onto the warmth like an anchor as his mind whirls with possibilities. He wants to ask more, to understand what could be wrong, but Jin’s expression is set, his focus locked on the path ahead, and Jungkook knows better than to push when even he can feel the weight of the situation.

They’re moving quickly, their steps urgent but controlled, when suddenly, two familiar figures come into view just ahead. Jimin and Taehyung are walking hand in hand, their strides purposeful, as if they, too, are hurrying home. But there’s something about them that makes Jungkook’s stomach twist, not just their pace, but the way their hair is slightly tousled, their clothes a little rumpled, as if they’d been rushing.

And when they get close enough, Jungkook catches it, the shift in their scents. The usual warmth and sweetness, the comforting notes of cherry and raspberry, are tinged with something sharper, something jittery and unsettled.

Jin is the first to reach out, his free hand immediately pulling both of them toward him in a protective embrace. It’s quick, firm, a silent reassurance before he steps back just enough to meet their eyes. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, his voice steady, though Jungkook can hear the tension beneath it. “Do you know anything more than I do?”

Jimin and Taehyung exchange a glance before shaking their heads in near unison. “No,” Jimin answers, his lower lip worried between his teeth. “Only that Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung were out patrolling the border today.” His fingers tighten briefly around Taehyung’s. “Maybe it has something to do with that?”

Jungkook’s breath stutters. He hadn’t known that. He doesn’t even realize he’s gripping Jin’s arm until the beta places a reassuring hand over his, grounding him.

Jin doesn’t let go of them. Instead, he keeps all three of them close, his touch protective, as if shielding them from whatever unknown danger looms ahead. His lips press into a thin line before he exhales sharply, his gaze flickering between them. “I don’t like this,” he murmurs, shaking his head slightly. “Not knowing what’s happening. Not knowing if they’re alright.”

The weight of his words settles heavily between them. None of them like it. The uncertainty. The not knowing. Jungkook can see it in Jimin’s furrowed brows, in the way Taehyung keeps glancing toward the trees as if expecting Namjoon or Yoongi to emerge at any moment. He can feel it in the tightness of Jin’s grip, in the way his body remains tense even as he tries to project calm.

After a beat, Jin inhales deeply and straightens his shoulders. “Let’s get home quickly,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “If they’re not already there, we’ll wait for them.”

Jimin nods immediately, but then hesitates, eyes flickering toward Jin again. “Hobi-hyung just got home,” he adds, voice quiet but sure. “He told me he’s waiting for us.”

That does little to ease the tension, but at least it means they won’t be walking into an empty house. Jungkook isn’t sure if that makes him feel better or worse. Because if Hoseok doesn’t know anything either, that means whatever’s happening, it’s something only Namjoon and Yoongi are aware of. 

No one says anything more after that. There’s no need. Instead, they move, feet carrying them swiftly back home, their steps quick and synchronized. The wind is sharp against Jungkook’s skin, but he barely feels it. His mind is elsewhere, his heart hammering against his ribs, every part of him focused on one thing and one thing only.

Getting home. And hoping, praying, that Namjoon and Yoongi will be there waiting for them.

The moment they step inside the pack house, Jungkook can tell that only Hoseok is home. The warmth of his scent lingers in the air, but there’s an undercurrent of something else, something tense, careful.

Hoseok greets them with his usual brightness, his smile easy and warm, but Jungkook isn’t fooled. He can see the way his eyes flicker over them, scanning for signs of distress, for anything that might need soothing.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. The moment his shoes are off, he reaches for Hoseok, stepping into his space without a second thought. He wraps his arms around the beta’s waist and presses close, seeking the steady, grounding warmth that Hoseok always carries. And, as expected, Hoseok hugs him back immediately, holding him firmly but gently, his lips pressing lightly against Jungkook’s head. The embrace lingers for a moment, neither of them in a rush to let go, before Hoseok hums softly, the sound vibrating against Jungkook’s skin.

“You smell like Jin-hyung now,” Hoseok murmurs, his tone carrying a hint of something knowing. He pulls back just enough to glance down at Jungkook, a small, pleased smile tugging at his lips. “I knew he wouldn't be able to wait.” There’s no jealousy, no surprise, just pure happiness, as if this was always meant to be. His hands squeeze Jungkook’s waist lightly before he adds, “I’m happy for you.”

Jungkook barely has time to process those words before Hoseok leans in and presses a soft peck to his lips. It’s nothing grand or overwhelming, nothing that makes his heart lurch in shock, just something easy and natural, as if Hoseok had done it a thousand times before. And maybe that’s what makes Jungkook’s stomach flutter the most. Because it feels right. Like it’s simply a part of them.

When Hoseok pulls away, he doesn’t stop there. He moves fluidly, gracefully, turning to Jimin and Taehyung next, giving them the same soft kiss, the same tender affection. There’s a warmth in his touch, something gentle and reassuring, and both omegas seem to melt into it, accepting it without hesitation. Then, he turns to Jin, and the kiss he gives him is just a little longer, just a little deeper, as if speaking a silent language between them.

Jungkook watches all of it, heart feeling strangely full, something deep and unfamiliar curling in his chest. This is them. This is pack.

Then, Hoseok and Jin exchange a look, one of those silent conversations that only those who have known each other for years can have, and Hoseok clears his throat. “Alright, pups,” he says, clapping his hands lightly. “You three should go up to the nest and wait for us there.”

Jungkook frowns slightly. “But—”

“No buts,” Jin interjects, his voice softer but still firm. “It’ll make you feel better. All of you.” His gaze flickers toward Jimin and Taehyung, who are both shifting on their feet, their distress still clear despite Hoseok’s best efforts. “We’ll bring hot tea up in a bit.”

Jungkook hesitates. He’s pretty sure that’s not the only reason they’re being sent upstairs. There’s something unspoken between Jin and Hoseok, something in the way they stand just a little too stiffly, in the way their smiles don’t quite reach their eyes.

They want to talk alone. They don’t want to worry them. And maybe, if Jungkook were feeling more stubborn, he would argue, but something about the way Jin’s hand briefly squeezes his shoulder makes him pause.

“Okay,” he finally relents. And because he doesn’t want to let go of either of them, he reaches out and takes both Jimin’s and Taehyung’s hands in his, linking their fingers together. He squeezes gently, then tugs them forward. “Come on.”

The three of them make their way upstairs, Jungkook leading them toward the nest that’s become their shared safe space. And the moment they step inside, it’s as if a small weight lifts from their shoulders. The familiar scent of their pack lingers in the air, the warmth of the blankets surrounding them, wrapping them in something soft and secure. It takes barely a second before they’re crawling into it, instinctively seeking comfort in each other.

Jungkook ends up in the middle, as usual, with Jimin pressed to one side and Taehyung to the other. Their bodies fit together perfectly, warm and steady, and as Jungkook exhales, he lets himself relax just a little, letting the softness of the nest swallow them whole.

Jungkook shifts slightly in the nest, adjusting so he can see both Jimin and Taehyung clearly. He can still feel the tension in their bodies, even as they press close, seeking comfort in the warmth of their shared space. Their scents, usually soft and sweet, are tinged with something anxious and unsettled. It makes Jungkook frown, worry settling deep in his chest.

“Are you guys okay?” he asks quietly, his voice gentle, careful.

Both omegas nod almost immediately, but there’s hesitation in the way their movements aren’t quite as fluid as usual. It’s Jimin who speaks first, shifting a little so that he’s facing Jungkook properly. “We’re okay,” he reassures him, and Jungkook can tell he’s trying to sound more certain than he feels. “It just startled us a little when Joon-hyung reached out. He was… brief.”

Taehyung hums in agreement, his brows furrowing slightly. “Yeah, almost like he was busy with something. He just told us to come home as soon as possible and then cut the link before we could even reply.” He bites his lip, glancing toward the doorway as if expecting answers to come walking in at any second. “We don’t like when he gets like that.”

Jimin nods, his fingers absentmindedly toying with the fabric of Jungkook’s sleeve. “We don’t like when anything happens, really.” His voice is softer now, carrying a weight that makes Jungkook’s stomach twist uncomfortably. “But… hyung would’ve told us if something was really wrong. So that means he and Yoongi-hyung have to be okay.” He glances at Taehyung for confirmation, and the other omega nods.

Jungkook listens carefully, absorbing their words, the small traces of worry that linger between them. He thinks about Namjoon, about how steady and unshakable he always seems, about how even when he’s hiding things, there’s always an underlying sense of control in his presence. Jungkook isn’t sure if that makes him feel better or worse.

“I’m glad you guys have this mind link,” he says after a moment, breaking the silence. He tilts his head, watching the way both omegas are still fidgeting slightly, still not fully relaxed. “That way you can communicate with each other so easily.”

Jimin and Taehyung both turn to him at the same time, their expressions softening just a little.

“It is a blessing,” Taehyung agrees, his voice a little wistful. “It makes things easier.”

Jimin sighs, leaning his head against Jungkook’s shoulder, his warmth seeping through the layers of their clothing. “I just wish you could be a part of it, too,” he murmurs. “So you wouldn’t have to wait for us to tell you what’s going on.”

Jungkook offers him a small smile, nudging him lightly. “You guys tell me everything anyway,” he says, trying to keep the mood light. “I think I’ll be okay.”

Before either of them can say anything else, the distant sound of footsteps and hushed voices drifts up from downstairs. The noise is sudden, abrupt, and both Jimin and Taehyung straighten up immediately, their bodies tensing as their ears tune in to the familiar sounds. Jungkook can feel the shift in their scents, the way they sharpen just slightly, as if their bodies are already preparing for whatever comes next.

“That must be them,” Taehyung says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jimin swallows, nodding as he clutches at Jungkook’s wrist. “They’re back.”

Jungkook feels his heart pick up speed, the anticipation thrumming through his veins. He doesn’t know why, but something about this moment feels heavier than it probably should. Something about the way Jimin and Taehyung are waiting, holding their breath, makes Jungkook’s own nerves start to spike.

They don’t have to wait long. The voices downstairs grow louder, the sound of the front door closing echoing through the house. And then, footsteps. Coming up the stairs. Steady, purposeful.

Jungkook exhales slowly, his fingers tightening where they still hold onto Jimin’s and Taehyung’s hands.

They’re about to find out what’s going on.

The moment the door to the nest opens, Jungkook’s senses go taut. The shift in the air is immediate, heavy, charged with tension crawling just beneath the surface like static before a storm. Hoseok and Jin enter first, faces carefully blank, but Jungkook doesn’t miss the tight set of Jin’s jaw or the way Hoseok’s eyes flicker toward the nest only to dart away a heartbeat later.

Namjoon follows, calm and solid as ever, but it’s Yoongi, stepping in last, who makes Jungkook’s stomach twist.

There’s a scent clinging to him, thick and unmistakable. It coils around Yoongi like smoke, acrid and metallic, and Jungkook knows it instantly. It’s the scent of blood. Jimin and Taehyung react before he can say a word, low whines building in their throats as they shift against him, noses wrinkling, instinctively recoiling.

But it’s not just that it’s blood. It’s the wrong kind.

Jungkook is intimately familiar with the scent of his own blood, coppery, hot, personal. But this? This smells alien on Yoongi. Wrong in a way Jungkook can’t name, crawling under his skin and settling cold in his bones.

His heart hammers as the taste of it coats the back of his throat.

Blood. But not his this time. And he hates it, hates every breath that forces the scent deeper into his lungs. Because he shouldn’t know what Yoongi’s blood smells like. Shouldn’t be able to recognize it. Shouldn’t have to.

His entire body tenses, instincts screaming at him as his gaze snaps to Yoongi. He tries to push himself up from the nest, his fingers digging into the blankets beneath him, but before he can even fully rise, Namjoon’s voice cuts through the haze of panic clouding his mind.

“Stay,” Namjoon says, firm but not unkind. His voice carries that steady weight that always makes Jungkook listen before he even realizes he’s doing it. “Everything is fine. Stay in the nest.”

Jungkook hesitates, breathing uneven, but then he nods. Because Namjoon told him to. And when Namjoon tells him to do something, it feels like the safest thing in the world. So he settles back into the warmth of the nest, even though every muscle in his body is still wound tight, still buzzing with unease.

Namjoon moves closer, and the moment he’s within reach, both Jimin and Taehyung throw themselves at him. They bury their faces against his chest, their small whimpers vibrating against his skin as their arms cling tightly around him. Namjoon exhales softly, petting their heads with large, steady hands, murmuring something low and soothing that Jungkook can’t quite make out.

It does something to Jungkook’s heart, watching them melt into Namjoon’s touch, watching the way he holds them so effortlessly, as if reassuring them is second nature to him. But Jungkook can’t focus on that right now. Not when Yoongi is still standing there, even quieter than usual, the scent of blood still thick in the air.

Jungkook looks at him properly then, really looks at him, and that’s when he sees it.

Tiny specks of red dotting his fingers, staining the pale skin of his hands. It’s subtle, barely noticeable at first, but now that Jungkook has seen it, it’s all he can see. His stomach twists painfully.

Yoongi is bleeding. He knows that, of course he does. But seeing it now, vivid and undeniable, makes it too real.

His mind races with possibilities, heart slamming against his ribs as something tight coils in his chest. He doesn’t think, doesn’t even realize what he’s doing before his hands are already reaching out, fingers stretching toward Yoongi.

It’s instinctual, automatic. A desperate, silent plea.

He doesn’t know why it makes his throat feel tight. Why the sight of blood on Yoongi’s hands makes something inside him twist painfully. But it does.

And before he even realizes it, his hands are outstretched, reaching for Yoongi with an urgency he doesn’t fully understand.

The sound that escapes Jungkook is small, but it carries so much weight, so much raw emotion, that it seems to shatter whatever careful restraint Yoongi might have been holding onto. He moves without hesitation, his body reacting before his mind can fully catch up, crossing the short distance to the nest and gathering Jungkook into his arms in one fluid motion.

Jungkook doesn’t fight it, doesn’t resist, just lets himself be enveloped in the warmth of Yoongi’s embrace, pressing in close, his head tucked securely beneath Yoongi’s chin.

Yoongi cradles him there, one hand splayed protectively against the back of his head, the other wrapped around his waist, holding him as if he’s something delicate, in need of comfort. Jungkook grips at the fabric of Yoongi’s clothes, burying himself further into his warmth as he whines again, softer this time, but just as distressed.

“You’re bleeding,” he breathes, voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud makes it worse. His fingers clutch tighter. “Hyung, you’re bleeding.”

Yoongi lets out a soft exhale, warm and steady against the crown of Jungkook’s head. “I’m fine now,” he reassures gently, his voice a soothing balm against the rising panic in Jungkook’s chest. “The injury wasn’t serious. I promise, pup. With my shifter genes, it’ll be gone really quickly.”

Jungkook wants to believe him. He really does. But all he can see are the tiny specks of red staining Yoongi’s hands, all he can think about is how that scent, sharp and metallic, had clung to the air the moment he walked in. And it doesn’t matter how quickly shifters heal. It doesn’t matter that Yoongi is telling him it’s fine. Because in this moment, to Jungkook, it feels like the worst thing in the world.

And judging by the way Jimin and Taehyung immediately latch onto Yoongi as well, it’s clear they share the sentiment. Jimin presses himself against Yoongi’s side, one hand fisting in his sleeve, while Taehyung curls against his back, arms wrapping around his waist as if to ground him. Their scents bloom with worry, thick and tangled with Jungkook’s own, creating a storm of unease that Yoongi tries his best to soothe.

He shifts his weight, adjusting so that he can reach them all at once, petting over their hair in turns, smoothing over their backs with slow, reassuring strokes. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, voice low and soothing. “I promise you, I’m fine. Namjoon and I will explain everything, but for now, you don’t have to worry. I’m here.”

And slowly, slowly, the tension in the air starts to ease.

Jungkook isn’t sure how long they stay like that, wrapped around Yoongi, breathing in his scent, clinging to the steady warmth of him. But eventually, Yoongi shifts, gently prying himself from their grasp. Jungkook almost whines again, but Yoongi just gives him a fond look, something soft and full of quiet amusement as he cups his cheek for a moment before pulling away completely.

He glances at Jimin and Taehyung first, reaching out to cup the back of their heads, before pressing a quick, reassuring kiss to each of their lips. It’s so natural, so easy, that Jungkook almost doesn’t think about it. But then Yoongi turns to him, and instead of kissing him on the lips, he leans in to press the softest, warmest peck against his cheek.

Jungkook’s breath catches.

Yoongi pulls back with a small smile, thumb brushing over the apple of Jungkook’s cheek before he finally settles back onto his heels. “Alright,” he murmurs, looking at all three of them before glancing toward Jin and Hoseok as well. “Get comfortable. Namjoon and I will explain.”

The alphas take their time making sure Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung are settled comfortably in the nest. Namjoon runs a reassuring hand through Jimin’s hair as he tucks him against his side, while Taehyung curls close to Jungkook, his fingers idly playing with the fabric of Jungkook’s sleeve. Even Jungkook, who still feels an anxious tightness coiled in his chest, finds comfort in the presence of the others.

Jin and Hoseok settle in nearby, their expressions still tinged with worry but tempered by patience, waiting for Namjoon and Yoongi to explain.

Yoongi shifts slightly, adjusting his posture so that he’s seated directly across from them, Namjoon mirroring him at his side. Their scents are calm, grounding, but there’s something else underneath, the lingering tension of what they had encountered earlier.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Yoongi rubs absently at his hand, where blood must have been, as if the phantom sensation still lingers. He wants to reach for it, wants to hold Yoongi’s hands in his own, but before he can, Yoongi starts speaking.

"Namjoon and I checked the borders today, just like we always do," he begins, voice calm but carrying an unmistakable weight. "It’s routine. We do it to make sure everything’s in place," he adds, mostly for Jungkook’s sake.

Jungkook frowns slightly, tilting his head. “The borders?” he echoes, unfamiliar with the term in this context. “But there aren’t any actual walls or anything, right?”

Namjoon nods, offering him a small smile. “Not in the way humans think of borders,” he explains. “For shifters, borders are more about scent-marking than physical barriers. Packs will mark their territory with their scent, creating an invisible boundary that others can recognize. It tells outsiders where our land begins and ends, and usually, it’s respected.” He pauses for a moment, letting Jungkook absorb the information before continuing.

“But we still have to check them regularly, make sure nothing seems unusual, no strange scents, no disturbances.”

Jungkook nods slowly, starting to understand. It makes sense, he supposes, in a world where scent holds so much meaning. He glances at Jimin and Taehyung, who both seem to already know all of this, their expressions serious but unsurprised.

Yoongi picks up where Namjoon left off. "Today, we went out to the section of the border that touches the unmarked lands," he says, voice steady. "It’s a stretch that doesn’t belong to any pack, open territory. Anyone can move through it."

He glances at Jungkook. "But you already know that." His expression darkens slightly. “We went with a few hunters to make sure everything was in order, and for a while, everything seemed normal.”

There’s a slight shift in the room then, subtle but noticeable, and it only grows when Yoongi continues. “But then, one of our hunters caught sight of a group of rogues.”

The reaction is immediate. Jin and Hoseok stiffen, their scents flaring with a mix of concern and alarm. Jimin and Taehyung exchange a glance, their hands tightening in Jungkook’s shirt as if seeking reassurance. Jungkook himself frowns, confused. The word sounds ominous, but he doesn’t quite understand why.

He looks at the others, then back at Yoongi. “Rogues?” he asks. “Why is that… bad?”

It’s Jin who answers, his voice calm but edged with unease. “Because rogues don’t travel in groups,” he says. “They’re always alone.”

Jungkook blinks, not quite following. “But if they’re alone, then why—”

“They’re different from pack wolves, Jungkook,” Hoseok cuts in gently. “They don’t belong anywhere. Some of them leave their packs willingly, but most of the time, they’ve been cast out. And when that happens…” He hesitates, choosing his next words carefully. “When that happens, they lose something important.”

Jungkook swallows, something cold creeping into his chest. “What do you mean?”

Namjoon takes a breath, his expression carefully neutral, but Jungkook can see the tension in his jaw. “A shifter’s bond with their pack is… more than just companionship,” he explains. “It’s a connection that runs deep, tied to our instincts, our very being. When that connection is severed, when a wolf is cast out, something happens to them. They become unstable. Untethered.”

His eyes darken. “Rogues are dangerous because they have nothing to lose. They act on impulse, often violent, often unpredictable.”

Jungkook feels a shiver run down his spine. The way Namjoon says it, so serious, so certain, makes his stomach churn. He can tell, just by looking at them, that this is something all of them understand deeply, something that isn’t just a possibility but a reality they’ve encountered before.

“But they’re always alone,” Yoongi reminds them, his voice quiet. “That’s why this is different.” His gaze sharpens. “Because today, we saw rogues traveling together.”

Jimin clutches Jungkook’s sleeve, his voice hushed but urgent. “What happened next?”

Taehyung nods quickly, his grip just as tight. “Were they dangerous?”

Jungkook glances between them, feeling the same unease curling in his chest. His heart is racing too, the thought of nameless, faceless wolves lurking beyond their home making his skin prickle. Wolves that don’t belong to a pack. Wolves that don’t belong anywhere.

Namjoon and Yoongi share a glance, something unspoken passing between them before Namjoon finally speaks. His voice is steady, but there’s an underlying weight to his words.

“At first, the rogues kept their distance,” he says, exhaling slowly. “They watched us from afar, just standing at the edge of the border, not stepping over it. That’s not uncommon, sometimes loners or wanderers pass through the unmarked lands, and most of the time, they don’t cause trouble. But something about them felt… off.”

Yoongi hums in agreement, his sharp gaze flickering over to Jungkook. “And then they started getting closer,” he continues. “Slowly at first, but deliberately. Like they were testing how far they could go before we reacted.”

Jungkook shifts uneasily, his brows furrowing. “Were they in their human forms?” he asks, trying to picture the scene. 

Yoongi shakes his head. “No. Rogues are almost never in their human forms,” he says, his voice carrying a grim certainty. “That’s what makes them so dangerous. They’ve spent so long disconnected from a pack, from their human selves, that they exist almost entirely as wolves. And when you come across them, they’re already shifted, already ready to fight.”

The thought unsettles Jungkook more than he wants to admit. He’s seen the others shift before, has seen how their wolf forms move, the way their instincts sharpen the moment they let go of their human skin. The idea of a wolf stuck in that state, wild, untamed, is deeply unnerving.

Yoongi must sense his discomfort because his expression softens, and he adds, “It was fine, though. We were already in our wolf forms too. We always shift when we check the borders, it’s easier that way, safer.”

Jungkook nods, trying to push aside the unease curling in his stomach. He trusts them, trusts that they know what they’re doing. But there’s something about the way they’re telling this story that keeps him tense, like the worst part hasn’t even been said yet.

And then Namjoon speaks again. “Something felt wrong,” he admits, and the room seems to quiet even further. “It was subtle, but I could feel it. The way they moved, the way they watched us, it wasn’t normal. And then, suddenly, they attacked first.”

Jimin sucks in a sharp breath, and Taehyung’s grip on Jungkook tightens. Even Jin and Hoseok seem tense, their expressions dark with worry.

“They crossed the border and came straight for us,” Namjoon continues. “They didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even try to gauge their odds. It was like they had already decided they were going to fight.” He pauses, jaw tightening before he adds, “And for some reason, they were more focused on Yoongi and me than the hunters.”

Jungkook feels his stomach drop. “Why?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“We don’t know,” Yoongi replies, his tone calm, but there’s something almost too controlled about it. “But they weren’t as strong as we expected. Rogues are dangerous, but they don’t have a pack. That makes them weaker in some ways. It didn’t take long to force them to retreat.”

Jungkook wants to feel relieved at that, but something about Yoongi’s words sticks in his head, nagging at him.

“But…” Jungkook prompts, feeling like there’s more.

Yoongi lets out a slow breath, glancing down at his hand, the one that had been speckled with blood earlier. “One of them managed to get close,” he admits. “Clawed me before I could dodge.”

Jungkook’s heart stutters in his chest. Even though he already knew Yoongi was hurt, hearing it like this makes his throat feel tight. His mind conjures the image of a wolf lunging at Yoongi, claws slashing through the air before he could react. He thinks about the specks of red he had seen, the smell of blood lingering in the air, and it makes his breath hitch.

“Hyung—”

“I’m fine,” Yoongi reassures, like he can already sense Jungkook spiraling. “It wasn’t deep. And with my shifter genes, it’ll be healed by tomorrow.”

Jimin and Taehyung still don’t look reassured. They’re both clinging to each other now, their lips pressed into thin lines. Even Jin and Hoseok are visibly on edge.

“But that’s not what matters,” Namjoon says then, his voice dipping lower. “What matters is that this isn’t normal.”

There’s a beat of silence, a tension that thickens the air around them.

“Rogues don’t travel in groups,” Yoongi reminds them. “And they don’t usually attack without reason.” His gaze darkens. “Something isn’t right.”

Namjoon exhales deeply, rubbing a hand over his face before letting it drop to his lap. His eyes, though firm, are gentle as they sweep over the three younger ones.

“As soon as we forced the rogues to retreat, Yoongi and I reached out through the mind link,” he begins, his voice steady but carrying the weight of the day’s events. “Our first priority was making sure everyone in the pack was accounted for, making sure no one was out and about while we figured out what had just happened.”

Jimin shifts slightly, his fingers curling into Taehyung’s sleeve. “You didn’t explain anything,” he murmurs, his voice quieter than usual. “Just told us to go home.”

“I know,” Namjoon says, his brows knitting together. “I’m sorry for scaring you like that. We didn’t have time to go into details then. Not when we still had to secure the border and make sure those rogues weren’t lingering nearby.” He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “I know it probably felt abrupt, but we needed to act fast.”

Jungkook glances between them, his unease still lingering. “But… everything’s fine now, right?”

Namjoon meets his eyes and nods. “Everything is fine now. There’s no immediate danger.” He pauses, as if choosing his next words carefully. “But there are too many unknown factors. Why they were traveling in a group, why they seemed particularly interested in me and Yoongi. Rogues don’t behave like that. That’s why I wanted everyone home right away. It wasn’t to frighten you,” he adds, his voice softer now, “just to make sure you were all safe while we figured this out.”

Jimin and Taehyung nod slowly, exchanging glances before looking back at Namjoon. “We understand,” Taehyung murmurs.

Jungkook swallows, fingers twitching against the nest’s fabric. He understands too, but it doesn’t make the uneasy feeling in his stomach go away.

Yoongi nods, crossing his arms as he leans back slightly. His expression is serious, but there’s warmth in his eyes as he looks at Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. “We’ll investigate further,” he tells them, voice calm and even, “but in the meantime, we don’t want anyone going outside alone, just in case.”

His gaze sharpens slightly, as if daring them to argue, but Jimin and Taehyung don’t look like they have any objections.

“That means you three especially.” He flicks his gaze between the omegas and Jungkook. “I’d even feel better if you had at least one hyung with you at all times, even if all three of you are together.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest, but Namjoon beats him to it.

“I’m not trying to baby you,” he says, his voice firm but full of warmth. “But you are the babies of this pack, and my alpha won’t settle knowing the three of you are alone without protection, even if you’re together.” His eyes soften slightly, and Jungkook feels his chest tighten at the sincerity there.

Namjoon means it. This isn’t about doubting their strength or treating them like helpless pups. It’s about protecting them, about ensuring they’re safe because they are the youngest, the ones most vulnerable to danger in his eyes.

Jimin and Taehyung don’t seem bothered by the decision at all. Taehyung even nods enthusiastically, curling closer to Jimin as if the idea of having a hyung close by is comforting. Jimin hums in agreement, as if he had already assumed that would be the case. Jungkook, on the other hand, isn’t so sure.

He doesn’t want to feel like a burden, like someone they constantly have to watch over, but when he looks at Namjoon and Yoongi, sees the exhaustion in their shoulders, the worry lingering beneath their strong fronts, he swallows his pride and nods.

If it’ll make them feel better, if it’ll make them worry a little less, then he can do this.

Jimin and Taehyung don’t hesitate before nodding, their voices overlapping as they assure Namjoon, “We’ll listen, Joon-hyung. We won’t go anywhere alone.” Their words are filled with quiet determination, an unspoken understanding passing between them that they trust Namjoon’s judgment completely.

Jungkook watches as Namjoon’s shoulders relax just slightly at their agreement, the tension that had been wound so tightly in his frame easing just a bit. Then Namjoon’s gaze shifts, settling on Jungkook, expectant.

Jungkook doesn’t even think twice before nodding as well, his voice just as earnest as he says, “We’ll be good, hyung. we won’t wander off alone.” He meets Namjoon’s eyes and holds them, wanting the alpha to see the sincerity in his words, wanting him to know that he’ll follow whatever Namjoon decides is best. There’s too much worry already pressing down on Namjoon and Yoongi’s shoulders, Jungkook doesn’t want to add to it.

Yoongi hums approvingly, and Namjoon nods, looking pleased. “Good,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. But then his expression shifts slightly, something unreadable flickering across his face before he speaks again. “There’s something else.” His eyes linger on Jungkook now, assessing, like he’s debating his next words. “I’d like to start training you tomorrow.”

Jungkook blinks, momentarily caught off guard. “Training?”

Namjoon nods. “Today’s encounter unsettled my alpha,” he admits, voice low but steady. “Knowing you’re defenseless is making me agitated. I need to know that if something were to happen, you’d have at least some way to protect yourself.” He isn’t demanding, isn’t pushing, he’s offering, but there’s a weight behind his words, something deeply instinctual, a need to make sure that Jungkook is safe.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. “Okay,” he says immediately, his voice unwavering. “I’ll do whatever you think is best, hyung.” And he means it. If training will help ease Namjoon’s worry, if it will help settle whatever unease the pack alpha is feeling, then Jungkook will do it. He trusts Namjoon.

Namjoon smiles, pride flashing in his eyes, and he nods in approval. “Thank you.”

He scans the room, his gaze softening as he looks at all of them. “Now, try to relax, alright? There is no immediate threat. We’re just setting protective measures, just in case. You’re all safe.”

Jungkook knows he’s saying it for their sake, to reassure them, but he can see the exhaustion lingering in Namjoon’s frame, the way Yoongi is still slightly stiff from whatever had happened.

And that’s when Yoongi suddenly exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I should go treat my wound,” he mutters.

Jungkook stiffens, his eyes immediately zeroing in on the hand Yoongi had tried to keep out of sight. He hadn’t forgotten about the injury, not for a second, but the conversation had momentarily pushed it to the back of his mind.

Now, it’s all he can think about again. His stomach twists at the sight of the little specks of red staining Yoongi’s skin. He doesn’t even think before reaching out, fingers curling around the sleeve of Yoongi’s shirt, holding him back.

“Hyung—” His voice wavers slightly, his grip tightening. “Let me help you, please.”

Notes:

Hello guys!! 💖✨

I swear, I cannot with Jungkook and Jin’s dynamic 😭 There’s just something so fun and hot about Jin literally playing with Jungkook while Jungkook eats it up like it's his favorite snack. And then! That soft, caring hyung side of Jin?? 🥺 He’s just so gentle sometimes I want to scream. I’m such a sucker for a tiny age gap and that classic oldest-hyung//maknae bond. It’s not a crime!!

Also, can we talk about Jungkook?? I'm so proud of him for actually voicing his thoughts. It’s obviously something he still needs to work on, but you know how hard that must be for him. And he’s still trying. Because he’s a good boy. (Who said that?? Not me 👀)

And I just find it hilarious that he still doubts their intentions sometimes. Like??? Baby. You literally sleep in their nest! 😭😭

Of course, I had to add a little sprinkle of angst 😌 Who are these rogues and HOW DARE they touch our precious Yoongi?! The audacity!!
And training arc?? I’m not even hiding the fact that I was heavily inspired by anime. Training arcs just scratch a very specific itch for me 💪

Also yes, Jungkook, go treat your man’s wounds 😤💞 It’s what he deserves.

--

 

Okay, now for my little real talk moment 😅

I’m so sorry for the wait!! 🙇‍♀️💔 This wasn’t planned at all, and when I first started posting this fic, I honestly didn’t think I’d ever make you wait more than a month between updates… yet here we are 😭 But I now officially understand why updating takes so long sometimes ahaha.

There’s no dramatic reason for the delay, just a bunch of small life things piling up until suddenly it’s been a month. On top of that, I got a bit stuck on one specific part of the plot and needed time to figure it out… which I finally did!! 🎉

Also, side note, am I the only one who feels like we're getting a sneak peek into what hell must feel like??? 🔥😵‍💫 What do you mean it’s 40 degrees outside?? I know some of you are probably used to this or live in even hotter places, but I am not built for this. Especially with no AC 😩 I am not the strongest soldier out here, let me tell you that!!

I made the mistake of turning on the oven today to cook something and immediately regretted all my life choices 😭🔥

I hope you’ve all been doing okay during this awful heatwave. Please, please take care of yourselves, drink water, stay in the shade, and do not go grocery shopping during peak heat hours. (I'm not saying this because I almost fainted doing exactly that… 😅 I didn’t, but I was very close. Can you imagine me just passed out on the sidewalk? Too embarrassing. My pride said no and I made it home before that could happen in public 😭✋)

Thank you for your patience, your kindness, and just for being here 💜 I know some of you left lovely comments and I didn’t want to respond before posting this chapter. I know the hope you feel when you see a fic notification, only to find out it’s a reply and not an update 😅

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I’ll see you soon for the next one!! 🥰

Chapter 49: Whispers of Care

Summary:

Jungkook helps Yoongi with his wound

Yoongi looks down at him, surprised.

“Jungkook—”

“Please,” Jungkook pleads, eyes wide, desperate. His mind is screaming at him that Yoongi is hurt, that Yoongi bled and got injured, and he hadn’t been there, hadn’t been able to do anything. The thought unsettles him, sends a sharp pang of distress curling in his gut. “Let me help, hyung.”

Yoongi seems to hesitate for a moment, then sighs.

“Alright, pup,” he murmurs, his voice gentler now, as if he can feel just how much Jungkook needs this. “You can help me.”

Just like that, Yoongi takes his hand, interlacing their fingers with a quiet kind of certainty, a gesture that steadies Jungkook even as his heart stammers in his chest. He lets the alpha pull him up, their hands joined as they step out of the den and head straight for the bathroom.

The warmth of Yoongi’s palm against his own is grounding, and Jungkook doesn’t want to let go. Maybe Yoongi doesn’t either, because even when they reach the small cupboard tucked beside the sink, he retrieves the first-aid supplies with only one hand, never once releasing his grip on Jungkook’s fingers. It feels deliberate.

They settle on the edge of the bathtub, side by side, knees brushing. The small space between them hums with something unspoken. Jungkook knows he’s supposed to focus on the injury, that’s why they’re here, but his stomach twists with apprehension. He doesn’t like seeing his pack hurt.

And Yoongi is supposed to be strong, untouchable. The thought of him bleeding unsettles something deep inside Jungkook, something instinctive and primal that he doesn’t quite understand.

Yoongi moves fluidly, pulling his sweater over his head in one swift motion, leaving him in a thin undershirt that clings to his frame. The fabric is slightly wrinkled, slightly translucent under the bathroom’s warm light, but Jungkook isn’t paying attention to that. His eyes are locked on Yoongi’s arm, where an angry, jagged wound stretches along his skin.

It’s not gushing blood, but a few fresh streaks have welled up, sluggishly trailing down toward his elbow. It’s not nearly as bad as Jungkook had feared, but it’s still there. Still real.

He frowns, his brows knitting tightly together as he stares at the injury, a strange knot forming in his throat. He doesn’t like this. Doesn’t like that Yoongi had to fight, that he got hurt in the process. The idea of rogues getting close enough to land a hit on him makes Jungkook’s skin prickle with unease.

Yoongi must notice, because he suddenly reaches out, his fingers catching Jungkook’s chin with a touch so gentle it startles him. He tilts Jungkook’s face up, forcing their eyes to meet, and there’s something fond but exasperated in his expression.

“Stop making that face,” Yoongi murmurs, thumb brushing lightly against his jaw. “You’re breaking my heart.”

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard by the words, by the way Yoongi’s voice dips into something almost teasing yet entirely sincere. But he can’t help it, his lips press into a tighter line, his fingers curling into fists against his lap as his chest swells with something unnameable.

“You’re hurt,” he says quietly, as if that explains everything.

The moment Yoongi’s eyes lock with his again, something in Jungkook’s chest tightens. It’s the way Yoongi looks at him, that soft yet steady gaze that holds all the reassurance he’s ever needed, yet it also pulls something from deep inside him that he wasn’t prepared for.

His eyes sting, his throat burns, and before he can even stop them, tears start to gather at the edges of his lashes, blinking helplessly as they spill over, tracking silently down his cheeks.

Jungkook can’t understand why it’s happening. He knows Yoongi is fine. He can see it with his own eyes. But the mix of Yoongi’s touch, his soothing voice, and the deep concern in his eyes unlocks a flood of emotions he hasn’t quite processed yet. It’s not just the injury, it’s the fear of losing someone he’s now so deeply attached to, the idea that something could happen to him and he couldn’t protect him the way he wanted.

Yoongi’s hands are quick to act, cupping his head gently, guiding him closer with a tenderness that makes Jungkook’s heart clench. The alpha’s thumbs brush against his cheeks, wiping away the tears, but it’s not enough to stop them from flowing freely.

He can feel Yoongi’s sigh against his forehead, the soft hum of comfort, but it only makes him cry harder. His chest aches, the tears refusing to retreat as his emotions spill out uncontrollably.

“Shh,” Yoongi’s voice is soothing, low and rich, like honey, as he speaks softly against Jungkook’s skin. “Everything’s fine, Jungkookie. I’m okay, really.” He presses his palm gently against the back of Jungkook’s head, holding him close. But still, the tears don’t stop.

Yoongi looks at him, his expression pained, and there’s a soft plea in his voice as he continues, “Please, don’t cry pup. I hate seeing you like this.”

Jungkook tries to pull himself together, but the words only seem to push the tears out more, his chest tightening as he finally whispers through a trembling breath, “I don’t like that you’re hurt…” The words are so raw, so full of the weight of his fear, but they are all he can manage.

And then Yoongi pulls him into his embrace, his arms strong but tender as he cradles Jungkook against his chest. The scent of him envelops Jungkook, warm, safe, and familiar, a grounding presence that soothes the storm in his heart. Yoongi’s hands slide into his hair, fingers massaging gently, the soft rhythm of his touch bringing a peace Jungkook doesn’t even realize he needed.

“Everything’s okay,” Yoongi murmurs into his hair, his voice a soft, steady murmur that drowns out the lingering distress. “I’m fine, I promise. I’m right here.”

Jungkook breathes in the calming scent of the alpha, his body slowly relaxing as the warmth of Yoongi’s embrace surrounds him. He lets his tears fall, no longer trying to fight them. Instead, he clings to Yoongi, holding on tightly like the world could slip away at any moment.

Yoongi’s hands are gentle, his whispers tender, and in that moment, Jungkook can finally breathe again, the tears slowly subsiding as the warmth of the alpha’s scent and his soft, reassuring words flood him with comfort. It doesn’t fix everything, but for now, it’s enough.

The minutes slip by slowly, but gradually, the overwhelming rush of emotions begins to settle in Jungkook’s chest. His breath becomes less shaky, and he feels the heat of Yoongi’s presence grounding him in the best possible way. When he finally manages to pull away enough to look at the alpha, Yoongi’s gaze softens with concern. He’s still holding him, his hands gentle as he carefully wipes the remaining tears from Jungkook’s cheeks, the pad of his thumb brushing across the tender skin.

Jungkook feels the last of his tears fall, but his voice is small when he speaks, his words trembling just slightly as he whispers, “I’m sorry… I don’t know what came over me…”

Yoongi’s expression doesn’t shift, and his voice is calm, steady, when he responds, his hands still soothing in their delicate motions against Jungkook’s hair. “You don’t ever have to apologize for feeling something.” His words are soft, but they hold a quiet strength, the kind that only Yoongi can offer when Jungkook needs it most. “It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel.”

Jungkook nods, his chest still tight but beginning to ease with the comfort Yoongi offers. The alpha smiles then, a small, gentle curve of his lips, before his voice turns playful, the usual warmth lacing his words. “Now… do you still want to help hyung?”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate, his determination shining through despite the lingering vulnerability. “Yes… I want to help make it better,” he says quietly, his voice steadier now, though still threaded with concern.

Yoongi’s eyes light up at that, the gentle affection in his gaze making Jungkook’s heart skip a beat. “Cute,” he murmurs, the words playful but tender, causing a soft blush to spread across Jungkook’s cheeks. He can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips, the warmth of the alpha’s praise settling in his chest.

With Yoongi’s guidance, they begin the process of cleaning the injury, and Jungkook takes the disinfectant carefully, his hands slightly trembling, though not from fear now, but from a need to take care of Yoongi the way Yoongi has taken care of him. He slowly applies the disinfectant to Yoongi’s arm, wiping away the blood with delicate strokes, making sure to be as gentle as possible. His brow furrows in concentration, his gaze never leaving the wound, as if any momentary mistake could cause more harm than good.

Once the blood is cleaned away, Jungkook reaches for the healing balm Yoongi gives him, the scent of it familiar and comforting as he carefully applies it to the wound. He takes his time, pressing the balm into Yoongi’s skin with cautious care, his heart thumping in his chest as he tries to ensure he’s doing everything right.

“Am I… hurting you?” Jungkook asks softly, his voice filled with worry. He looks up at Yoongi, eyes wide and full of concern, his hands trembling as they move over the injury.

Yoongi, who hasn’t stopped caressing Jungkook’s hair, gently tilts his head down so their eyes meet. His voice is a steady reassurance, comforting in its softness. “No,” he says, the smile on his lips gentle but warm. “You could never hurt me. You’re doing great.”

Jungkook’s shoulders relax slightly at the words, the reassurance sinking in like a balm to his own anxious heart. He gives Yoongi a small, hesitant smile in return, still uncertain but grateful for his understanding. The smile might be small, but it feels like a weight lifting off his chest.

Yoongi watches him for a moment, his expression soft and affectionate, before his fingers gently grab hold of Jungkook’s chin, lifting his head to meet his eyes. The look Yoongi gives him is full of warmth, the kind that melts away any lingering doubt. “There it is,” Yoongi says, his voice soft and full of fondness. “Your pretty smile is back.”

Jungkook feels his heart flutter at the words, the warmth in Yoongi’s voice making him feel something deep inside, a mix of gratitude and affection that he can’t quite explain, but it feels like something he wants to hold onto forever. The smile on his lips only grows, softer now, more genuine, and Yoongi’s eyes light up in return, like he’s found something precious, something worth cherishing.

Jungkook finishes wrapping the bandages around Yoongi’s arm, his hands moving with a quiet concentration, but just as he’s about to tighten the knot to secure it, a sharp, searing pain shoots through his hand. His breath catches in his throat, and he winces, pulling his hand back instinctively.

His heart stutters in his chest as the pain intensifies for a brief moment, and in that instant, Jungkook freezes, his eyes widening as the memory of the burn floods back into his mind. He’d completely forgotten about it, until now.

Yoongi doesn’t miss the sharp intake of breath or the pained wince. His gaze immediately sharpens, concern flooding his features as he reacts without hesitation. In one fluid motion, the alpha pulls Jungkook’s hand away from the bandage and turns it gently toward him, his eyes narrowing as he examines the burn on the palm of Jungkook’s hand. The skin is raw, still pinkish-red, and though it’s not an open wound, it’s clear it’s painful. The sight of it makes Yoongi frown, a deep line of worry appearing on his forehead.

“Jungkook,” Yoongi says sharply, his voice low with concern, his thumb gently caressing the tender skin of Jungkook’s hand. His touch is warm, but it doesn’t soothe the sting of the burn. “You’re hurt,” he continues, his eyes meeting Jungkook’s with an unspoken urgency. “What happened? When did you hurt your hand like this?”

Jungkook’s breath hitches at the question, and he immediately looks away, his cheeks flushing with a sudden burst of embarrassment. He opens his mouth but struggles to find the words, the guilt suddenly weighing heavily on him. “I… I forgot about it,” he stammers, the words coming out in a rush. “I—” he hesitates, glancing back at Yoongi, who’s still holding his hand with such tenderness, the concern etched on his features only deepening.

“I burnt my hand this morning,” Jungkook continues quietly, his voice small, almost apologetic. “I was trying to put out the fire for the stove… I thought the door would be cool by then, but it was still hot. I… I touched it by accident.” His words trail off, and the weight of the moment settles in. Yoongi’s eyes flicker with a mix of disbelief and hurt, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for not mentioning it earlier.

Yoongi’s gaze softens, but there’s still a lingering edge of frustration there. He carefully inspects the burn again, his fingers brushing lightly over the reddened skin, his brows knitting together. “Why didn’t you tell anyone about this?” Yoongi asks, his voice quieter now, but no less concerned. His touch lingers on Jungkook’s hand, his thumb gently tracing the contours of the burn as if trying to offer some comfort, though it only adds to Jungkook’s guilt.

Jungkook’s eyes lower, and his voice falters as he shyly admits, “I… I didn’t think it was a big deal. I didn’t want to bother anyone… It’s just a little burn.” His words are barely above a whisper, the embarrassment of keeping it to himself gnawing at him now. He hadn’t meant to make it seem unimportant, but in the moment, he just didn’t want to worry anyone. He hadn’t expected anyone to notice, hadn’t expected the burn to still be hurting him now.

Yoongi takes a deep breath, his gaze softening even further, though the concern still lingers. He presses a gentle kiss to the back of Jungkook’s hand before speaking again, his tone firm yet filled with that same tenderness Jungkook has come to rely on.

“Jungkook,” he says quietly, his voice steady and filled with care. “You’re not a bother. You need to take care of yourself. It’s not just about the burn. It’s about making sure we’re looking after you properly.”

Jungkook nods slowly, the words sinking into his chest, a small part of him feeling ashamed for not reaching out earlier.

Yoongi looks at him with soft, unwavering eyes, and as his thumb continues to gently rub over Jungkook’s burn, he whispers, “Let’s get this treated properly, okay? I’m not going to let you suffer from something like this when I can do something about it.” Jungkook nods again, feeling the weight of his worry ease, replaced with Yoongi’s calm, protective care.

“Thank you,” Jungkook says softly, his voice small but sincere.

Yoongi’s gaze hardens, there’s a serious weight behind his eyes. He holds Jungkook’s hand firmly in his, his touch gentle but insistent as he speaks.

“Jungkook,” he begins, his voice low and controlled, “You can’t ever hide injuries from us, okay? It’s too important. You need to let us know if you’re hurt. I don’t care how small it seems. If something happens, we need to know. Okay?”

Jungkook feels his lip wobble at the words, and the emotions he’s been holding back spill over in a rush. His chest tightens, and his eyes sting as tears begin to well up. He didn’t mean to make anyone worry, he hadn’t wanted to cause any trouble, but Yoongi’s words, though kind, hit him harder than he expected. His chest tightens with guilt, and the tears that had started to dry begin to fall again.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook murmurs, his voice trembling. His heart aches at the weight of Yoongi’s concern, at the depth of care in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hide it... I didn’t think it was a big deal...” His voice breaks, and he bites his lip, feeling the sting of his own self-reproach. He knows now that it was wrong to keep it from them, to suffer through the burn alone without letting anyone help.

At that, Yoongi’s expression softens, and he reaches up, his thumb brushing away a tear from Jungkook’s cheek. His eyes are filled with nothing but tenderness now, and his voice drops to a gentle whisper.

“Hey, I’m sorry for being harsh,” Yoongi says, his voice thick with sincerity. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I was just worried about you.” He cups Jungkook’s cheek in his palm, his touch warm and comforting. “You don’t have to cry because of me. I’m just scared that if you’re hurt, I won’t know until it’s too late.”

Jungkook nods, his breath shaky, and he allows Yoongi to guide him, to show him that he’s here, always. Yoongi’s hand remains on his cheek, a steady, grounding presence as he speaks softly again. “Hyung will take care of it for you, alright?” he murmurs, his tone soothing and calm. “I’ll make it better.”

Yoongi moves to get the supplies he needs, working with slow, deliberate movements as he disinfects the burn on Jungkook’s hand. He applies the healing ointment gently, making sure the sting doesn’t worsen. Every touch is careful, every motion deliberate. Jungkook watches him, his chest filling with a mixture of gratitude and admiration as Yoongi treats the wound with such precision and care. Yoongi’s focus never wavers, his attention solely on making sure Jungkook is comfortable, even if the burn still stings.

Once the ointment is applied and the burn wrapped securely, Yoongi takes Jungkook’s hand in his once more, lifting it to his lips again. He presses a soft, gentle kiss to the bandaged hand, his lips lingering there for just a moment. He pulls back slowly, and his gaze softens further.

“I’m sorry again for being harsh with you,” Yoongi says quietly, his voice sincere. “I know I can be... well, a little intense sometimes. But I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He pauses, his eyes locking with Jungkook’s. “I just want you to promise me something, okay? Promise me that you won’t ever hide an injury again. Promise me that you’ll always tell me, always let us know if something’s wrong.”

Jungkook swallows, feeling the weight of Yoongi’s words settle in his chest. He looks into Yoongi’s eyes, sees the love and care there, and he nods softly. “I promise, hyung” Jungkook whispers, his voice filled with sincerity. “I won’t hide anything from you. I’ll always let you know if something’s wrong.”

Yoongi smiles, the warmth in his eyes softening the tension in the room. He leans forward, his voice low but filled with affection.

“Good boy,” he says softly, his words a gentle caress. The way he says it, with so much tenderness, makes Jungkook’s heart flutter in his chest. He feels a warmth spread through him at the words, the soft affection in Yoongi’s tone melting away any remaining unease.

Yoongi’s expression shifts, his features settling into something more serious, more thoughtful. His fingers are still curled gently around Jungkook’s hand, but there’s a certain tension in the way he holds himself now, like he’s gathering the right words, bracing himself for something important. His voice, when he speaks, is quiet but firm, carrying the weight of unspoken regrets.

“Jungkook-ah,” he starts, his tone measured, careful. “I know I didn’t make the best first impression. I know I wasn’t kind to you when we first met.” His eyes flicker with something heavy, something like guilt, and he exhales slowly before continuing. “I was harsh. I was mean. And I won’t make excuses for that. I understand if that makes it hard for you to tell me things, to open up to me.”

His gaze lowers slightly, as if he’s hesitating, but then he looks back up, meeting Jungkook’s eyes with unwavering honesty. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. You don’t have to come to me specifically. But I do want you to know that you can. That I’ll listen if you do.”

Jungkook blinks, taken aback by the admission. It takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, to process what Yoongi is saying, but when he does, the words leave his lips before he can overthink them.

“It hurt,” Jungkook admits softly, lowering his gaze for a moment. “I won’t lie about that. It felt... unfair. I didn’t understand why you were being so... cold toward me. It felt like no matter what I did, you had already made up your mind about me.” He swallows, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing. “But at the same time, I get it. I really do. You didn’t know me. And I know you were being cautious, trying to protect your pack... your mates.” His voice is steady, but there’s an underlying sincerity to it, a quiet understanding that runs deep. “I can’t blame you for that.”

Yoongi watches him carefully, taking in every word, every shift in Jungkook’s expression. There’s something conflicted in his gaze, something contemplative, before he finally sighs, nodding. “You’re right,” he murmurs, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over Jungkook’s bandaged hand. “I was protecting what’s mine. That’s how it’s always been for me. And if I had to do it over again...” He hesitates, his jaw tightening slightly. “I don’t know if I would’ve done things differently. But that doesn’t mean I don’t regret it now.”

Jungkook’s eyes soften, his heart squeezing at the quiet honesty in Yoongi’s voice.

“But I can’t change the past,” Yoongi continues after a pause, his voice steady once more. “I can only move forward, only try to do better.” His fingers tighten slightly around Jungkook’s. “And that’s what I want to do. Because you’re one of us now. Because I care about you. That’s why I reacted the way I did when I saw your hand.”

He holds Jungkook’s gaze, and there’s something fierce in his expression, something raw and unguarded. “Because my wolf recognizes you as pack now. And that means I protect you, the same way I protect the others.”

Jungkook feels something warm settle in his chest, something that makes his throat tighten just a little. He swallows past the lump forming there, fingers curling slightly in Yoongi’s grasp. He hadn’t expected those words, hadn’t realized just how much they would affect him. He’s spent so long feeling like an outsider, like someone who didn’t quite belong, but hearing this now, from Yoongi, of all people, makes something inside him tremble.

He’s pack. He’s one of them now.

The words settle deep in his bones, in the spaces of himself that have always longed for belonging, and he exhales shakily before offering Yoongi a small, genuine smile. “Thank you, hyung” he whispers, and for once, he doesn’t feel like he has to say anything more.

Jungkook doesn’t want Yoongi to think that he’s hesitant to confide in him, that he would rather seek comfort elsewhere, so he quickly shakes his head, gripping Yoongi’s hand a little tighter.

“I’m not scared of talking to you,” he insists, his voice soft but firm. He wants Yoongi to know that he trusts him, that he doesn’t see him as unapproachable. “I won’t go to someone else if I need to talk. I’ll come to you too.” His words carry an unspoken promise, one that Yoongi seems to catch onto because his expression softens, his eyes searching Jungkook’s face as if to make sure he really means it.

A small smile tugs at Yoongi’s lips, his grip on Jungkook’s hand easing into something more affectionate, more natural.

“I’m glad,” he murmurs, and before Jungkook can react, Yoongi flicks a finger beneath his chin, tilting his face up slightly with an amused sigh. “You’re cute,” he adds, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Just like Minnie and Tae.”

Jungkook barely has time to process the sudden shift before he notices the way Yoongi’s gaze lingers on his neck. It takes him a second to realize what the alpha is looking at, but the moment he does, warmth rushes to his cheeks. 

“Did your date go well?” Yoongi asks, his tone light, but there’s something playful in the way he raises a brow.

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, and he immediately begins to stammer, words tumbling out in a mess of incoherent syllables.

“I—uh—well, I mean—we just—” His hands flail slightly, his ears burning as he struggles to find a proper response. But his reaction only seems to amuse Yoongi more, because the alpha chuckles, his smirk deepening as he tilts his head.

“I'm just teasing you. I can see that it went well,” he muses, clearly entertained by Jungkook’s flustered state. “You have a claiming bite on your neck after all.” His eyes soften then, the teasing edge in his voice giving way to something more genuine. “I’m glad,” he says simply, and somehow, that makes Jungkook’s heart beat even faster.

He’s not sure why Yoongi’s approval matters so much, but it does. It makes him feel warm, makes him feel like this, whatever this is, is something good.

Before he can dwell on it too much, Yoongi gestures for them to leave the bathroom, and together, they make their way back to the nest. The scent of comfort and familiarity greets Jungkook the moment they step inside, and he barely has time to take a full breath before he hears the familiar sounds of Jimin and Taehyung’s eager voices.

The two omegas are still curled up where they had been before, but the moment they spot him, their hands immediately stretch toward him in synchrony, fingers wiggling in unmistakable grabby hands.

Jungkook barely has a chance to react before Jimin’s eyes catch onto something that makes his expression shift in an instant. “Kookie,” Jimin breathes, his voice laced with concern, and Jungkook doesn’t even realize what’s wrong until Taehyung’s gaze locks onto him as well, his brows furrowing.

“Have you been crying?” Taehyung asks, a small whine slipping past his lips, and before Jungkook can even think of a response, both omegas are already reaching for him, their hands gently pulling him down into their embrace.

Jungkook doesn’t resist, allowing himself to be pulled between them, but his face heats up again as he fumbles to reassure them.

“I—I’m fine,” he stammers, but Jimin and Taehyung clearly don’t believe him, their hands immediately cupping his face, their fingers brushing over his cheeks as if searching for traces of tears. Jimin pouts, his thumb stroking gently under Jungkook’s eye. “You’re not supposed to cry without us,” he mumbles, his tone half-teasing, half-genuine.

“Yeah,” Taehyung agrees, his grip tightening slightly as he buries his face into Jungkook’s shoulder, his warmth instantly soothing. “What happened?”

Jungkook glances toward Yoongi helplessly, but the alpha merely chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as if to say 'this is your problem now'.

Jungkook sighs, already knowing that there’s no escaping this interrogation.

Jimin and Taehyung both narrow their eyes at Yoongi, their lips curling mischievously as they glance between Jungkook and the alpha. “Did hyung make you cry?” Jimin asks, his tone laced with teasing accusation, while Taehyung tilts his head, faux innocence masking the amusement in his eyes.

Yoongi huffs, crossing his arms as he glares at them. “I did not make him cry,” he argues, defensive. “Not on purpose, at least.” His expression softens slightly as he glances at Jungkook, as if silently asking for backup.

Jungkook, feeling like he needs to clarify, quickly shakes his head.

“No, no—it’s not like that,” he says, sitting up straighter. “It wasn’t Yoongi-hyung’s fault.” But he can see the way Jimin and Taehyung are still eyeing Yoongi with playful suspicion, so he decides that the best way to explain is just to show them.

Carefully, he lifts his hand, palm facing upward, revealing the fresh bandage wrapped snugly around his burn.

The teasing stops instantly.

Jimin and Taehyung freeze, their amusement vanishing in an instant. The shift is palpable, where before there had been playful banter, now there is only quiet tension, their gazes snapping toward the injury with widened eyes. And they aren’t the only ones.

Jin, who had been lounging comfortably on a pile of blankets nearby, sits up immediately, his face shifting from relaxed to deeply concerned in the span of a second.

“Jungkook,” he breathes, already moving closer, his hands reaching out instinctively. He takes Jungkook’s hand gently, cradling it as if afraid to hurt him further. His eyes flicker up, searching Jungkook’s face, his concern evident in every crease of his brows. “When did this happen?”

Jungkook suddenly feels guilty, the weight of Jin’s concern pressing down on him. “This morning,” he admits quietly. “I—it was an accident. I was trying to put out the fire for the stove and I didn’t realize the door was still hot.”

Jin’s grip tightens just slightly, his fingers ghosting over the bandages as if assessing the severity of the burn through the cloth. “Have you been hurt this whole time?” His voice is a mixture of disbelief and something else, something that makes Jungkook’s stomach twist with guilt all over again.

Jungkook hesitates for only a moment before nodding. “I forgot about it,” he says, though even to his own ears, it sounds like a weak excuse. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

Jin exhales sharply, his jaw tightening. “You forgot?” He shakes his head, his lips pressing into a thin line before he turns toward Yoongi. “And you only just found out?”

Yoongi nods, his own expression unreadable. “He didn’t tell anyone.”

Jin closes his eyes briefly, exhaling deeply as if trying to rein in his emotions. When he opens them again, his gaze is firm but not unkind. “Jungkook,” he says, his voice quieter this time. “You have to tell us when you’re hurt. We need to know. Even if you think it’s nothing.”

“I know,” Jungkook says softly. “I—I promised Yoongi-hyung I wouldn’t hide anything like this again.” He looks at Jin, then at Namjoon and Hoseok, who are both watching him intently, their expressions unreadable. “I really won’t.”

There’s a beat of silence before Jin finally nods, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of Jungkook’s hand before he lets go.

“Good,” he murmurs, though the tension in his shoulders doesn’t completely fade.

Hoseok, who had been watching the whole exchange with sharp eyes, finally speaks.

“You better not hide anything like this again,” he says, his voice a touch sterner than usual. “We’d rather worry over nothing than not know you’re hurt.”

Namjoon nods in agreement, his gaze steady. “Exactly. You’re part of this pack now, Jungkook,” he reminds him, his voice calm but firm. “We take care of our own.”

Jungkook feels something warm settle in his chest at their words, the protectiveness in their voices both reassuring and overwhelming. He nods again, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

“I understand.”

Jin studies him for a moment longer before sighing. “Well… I guess I’m glad it’s nothing serious,” he finally says, though there’s still a hint of exasperation in his voice. “But next time, tell us before we have to find out like this.”

Jungkook smiles sheepishly. “I will, hyung.”

Satisfied, Jin ruffles his hair before finally sitting back, though the occasional glance he throws Jungkook’s way makes it clear that he’s still keeping an eye on him.

Jimin and Taehyung, who had been quiet during the conversation, finally seem to snap out of their daze. They both immediately pull Jungkook into their arms, hugging him so tightly he lets out a small squeak.

“Kookie,” Jimin whines into his shoulder. “You can’t cry and not tell us. And you definitely can’t be hurt and not tell us.”

Taehyung nods against him. “We’re supposed to take care of you,” he mumbles. “You’re our pup.”

Jungkook lets out a small, breathy laugh, warmth filling his chest at their affection. He hugs them back just as tightly, letting himself sink into the comfort of their embrace.

“I'm sorry,” he murmurs, eyes fluttering shut. “I won’t hide anything from you again.”

The rest of the evening passes in a warm, comfortable haze, filled with soft laughter and the gentle hum of companionship. They share funny stories, Jimin and Taehyung taking turns recounting embarrassing moments from the past, some of which make Jungkook laugh so hard his stomach aches. Hoseok is particularly animated, his bright energy contagious as he dramatically reenacts an old story about Namjoon accidentally setting fire to a tent during a hunting trip, much to the alpha’s chagrin.

Dinner is a slow, drawn-out affair, the kind where everyone lingers at the table long after the food has been eaten, enjoying the quiet comfort of pack life. Jin fusses over everyone’s portions, making sure Jungkook gets enough to eat despite the younger’s insistence that he’s full.

Yoongi, still keeping a close eye on him, subtly places an extra piece of grilled meat onto his plate, giving him a pointed look that leaves no room for argument. Jungkook eats it without complaint, feeling a warmth settle in his chest at the care.

Afterward, they all move about in easy routine, cleaning up and getting ready for bed, the omegas leading Jungkook back toward the nest with excited chatter about how warm and cozy it will be tonight. Jungkook is just about to follow them when a voice stops him.

“Junkook-ah.”

He turns to see Namjoon standing nearby, his expression gentle but firm as he gestures for him to come over. Curious, Jungkook steps away from the others, tilting his head slightly. “Yes, hyung?”

Namjoon’s gaze flickers briefly to his bandaged hand before returning to his face. “I still want to train with you tomorrow,” he says, his voice calm and measured. “But I don’t want to push you too hard if your hand is hurting.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest, but Namjoon lifts a brow in quiet challenge. “I know you’ll say you’re fine,” he says knowingly. “But we’ll see how you feel in the morning. If it still hurts, we can go over more theoretical lessons instead of physical training.”

Jungkook hesitates before nodding slowly. He appreciates that Namjoon isn’t outright forbidding him from training, but instead making sure he won’t overstrain himself.

“Also,” Namjoon continues, crossing his arms, “Yoongi will be with us too.”

At that, Jungkook blinks. “Yoongi-hyung?”

Namjoon hums. “He wants to see how you’re progressing.” There’s something unreadable in his expression, but it’s not disapproving. If anything, he looks… thoughtful. “And I thought you might feel more comfortable if you had more familiar faces around.”

Jungkook perks up slightly at that. “Oh! Then—” He pauses, suddenly shy, but Namjoon waits patiently, encouraging him with a small nod.

Gathering his courage, Jungkook continues, “I can invite Kyungmin, Eunha, and Sejong too, right?” His fingers fidget at the hem of his sleeve as he glances up at Namjoon. “If they’re not too busy, I mean. I’d love to see them again.”

Namjoon’s lips curve into a small smile. “Of course,” he says, his voice warm. “They’d be happy to train with you. In fact…” He tilts his head, considering. “Would you like me to invite the other hunters as well? Maybe we can all train together.”

Jungkook brightens immediately, excitement flickering across his face. “Really?” He looks down for a moment, chewing his lip before nodding. “I think—I think I’d like that.”

“Good.” Namjoon reaches out, ruffling Jungkook’s hair fondly. “I’ll let them know.”

Jungkook beams, warmth blooming in his chest at the idea of not only training with Namjoon and Yoongi but also with Kyungmin, Eunha, Sejong, and the other hunters.

Jungkook hesitates for only a second before stepping forward, arms wrapping around Namjoon’s middle in a warm, grateful hug. He can feel the steady rise and fall of the alpha’s chest, the comforting weight of his arms as they close around him, holding him close with a protective kind of gentleness that makes something in Jungkook’s heart swell. 

He hadn’t expected Namjoon to take time out of his undoubtedly busy day to train him, to consider his comfort and his injury, to go as far as offering to include his new friends in their lessons to make him feel at ease. It means more to him than he can properly express, so he just presses himself into the alpha’s warmth, nuzzling slightly into the fabric of his sweater, hoping that Namjoon understands what he can’t say.

Namjoon does, of course. The large hand that cups the back of Jungkook’s head, fingers threading briefly through his hair before settling at the nape of his neck, is proof enough. But then, just as Jungkook begins to pull away, the alpha leans down and presses a kiss against his cheek, warm, firm and affectionate. 

The unexpected gesture sends a jolt through Jungkook’s system, and his body reacts before he can stop it, a startled squeal bubbling up from his throat as he jerks back, wide-eyed and flustered. Namjoon chuckles, the rich sound full of warmth, and reaches up to smooth a hand over Jungkook’s tousled hair, his touch light and fond.

“Go settle in for bed, pup,” Namjoon murmurs, voice soft but full of quiet authority, the kind that makes Jungkook’s heart flip in his chest. “You need rest.”

Jungkook doesn’t argue, still too embarrassed to do much more than nod quickly and scurry off toward the nest. The moment he crawls in, Jimin and Taehyung are already there, their scents surrounding him, wrapping around him like the softest embrace.

He barely has the energy to nuzzle into the blankets before Jimin and Taehyung instinctively curl around him, their warmth pressing against either side of his body. He registers the soft murmurs of goodnight, the gentle weight of a hand tracing over his arm, but exhaustion clings to him heavily, dragging him under before he can even respond.

Within seconds, Jungkook is asleep, breathing slow and steady, completely cocooned in safety.

 

--

 

The morning sun filters through the bare branches of the trees, casting soft, golden light over the pack grounds. It’s still cool enough that Jungkook tugs his sleeves down over his hands as they walk, but the air is crisp and fresh, and the warmth of the sun on his skin is pleasant. The world feels more alive today, the bite of winter beginning to wane ever so slightly, and it makes him feel lighter, more energized.

Everyone has already left the pack house for the day, their daily routines pulling them in different directions, some to the infirmary, others to their patrol duties or work around the village. It leaves only Jungkook, Namjoon, and Yoongi behind, the three of them walking together toward the training grounds with an easy sort of camaraderie.

Jungkook is practically buzzing with anticipation, his steps light as he follows along, still processing the fact that Namjoon had gone out of his way to make sure the training session would be open to everyone, that he had personally spread the word so that Jungkook wouldn’t have to feel like an outsider. The thought alone makes his chest warm, gratitude settling deep in his bones.

As they continue, Jungkook quickly realizes they’re heading farther than he expected, venturing beyond the usual training grounds where he had observed the others sparring before. He glances between Namjoon and Yoongi in curiosity, but before he can ask, Yoongi answers the unspoken question.

“We figured you’d feel more comfortable training somewhere a little more private,” Yoongi says, his voice even, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “And the scenery is nicer here anyway.”

Jungkook blinks, touched by the consideration. He hadn’t even thought about it, but now that Yoongi mentions it, the idea of training somewhere a little quieter, away from the usual crowd, is actually a relief. He’s still new to all of this, still figuring out where he fits, what he’s capable of, how to move in a world where he isn’t constantly watching his back.

The idea of being watched by too many people, of having to prove himself to a group that might not fully understand his inexperience, had lingered in the back of his mind. But here, in a more secluded space, he can settle in at his own pace without feeling exposed.

When they finally arrive, the sight that greets him is different from the more structured training area he had seen before. The training ground is softer, grass covered with soft snow, and the area is framed by trees, giving it a secluded, almost serene atmosphere. It’s beautiful in a way Jungkook hadn’t expected, open and spacious, but with a sense of quiet that immediately puts him at ease.

There’s no one else here yet, but for some reason, that makes him feel better too. He has time to adjust, to take in his surroundings, to steady his nerves before meeting the other hunters.

Namjoon stops and turns to face him, his presence as steady and grounding as ever. “We’ll be training for about two hours,” he explains, his deep voice carrying easily in the quiet space. “Until lunch. We’ll start with theory and then move into some practical exercises if you feel up for it.”

Jungkook nods, taking a deep breath as he looks around once more. This is new, unfamiliar, but it doesn’t feel bad. In fact, it feels… safe. He glances between Namjoon and Yoongi, both of whom are watching him closely, and realizes that maybe it’s because they’re here.

Namjoon stands before Jungkook, his expression patient yet firm, radiating the steady authority that comes so naturally to him. Beside him, Yoongi watches quietly, his gaze sharp but gentle, as if already assessing Jungkook’s ability to absorb the information they’re about to throw at him.

The morning is still, the only sound the rustling of the trees in the breeze, and Jungkook shifts slightly where he stands, eager but also a little nervous. He wants to do well, wants to learn, to be useful, to stand beside them not as someone who needs constant protection but as someone they can rely on.

Namjoon clears his throat, drawing Jungkook’s attention. “Before we start, there’s something you should know,” he begins, his tone calm but firm. “Yoongi and the other hunters will be leaving after this. They’ll be monitoring the borders today, so this afternoon, it’ll just be you and me.”

He pauses, letting that sink in before continuing. “I know you’re interested in hunting too, and we’ll get to that another day. But for now, we’re focusing on self-defense and combat skills. That’s the foundation you need before anything else.”

Jungkook nods, swallowing down the nervous energy bubbling in his chest. He understands. Hunting can come later. For now, he needs to learn how to protect himself first.

With that, they begin.

Yoongi and Namjoon waste no time diving into the theory, explaining things in a way that is both methodical and thorough. Jungkook listens intently, hanging onto their every word, trying his best to take it all in.

“Your first line of defense isn’t your weapon,” Namjoon tells him. “It’s your instincts. And one of the most important things you need to develop is scent awareness. Shifters rely heavily on scent, and if you pay attention, you can pick up on danger before you even see it.”

Yoongi nods in agreement. “Different emotions have different scent markers. Fear, aggression, deceit, they all have distinct undertones. You need to learn to recognize them. A rogue on edge will smell sharp, almost acidic. Someone lying to you might have an underlying bitterness to their scent, like something sour that doesn’t belong. And someone ready to attack? That’s the easiest one. Their scent spikes, stronger and more pungent, like a rush of adrenaline.”

Jungkook listens, wide-eyed, absorbing every detail. He’s never thought about it like this before, but it makes sense.

“The best way to avoid a fight,” Namjoon continues, “is to recognize a threat before it becomes one. If you sense something’s off, you leave. No hesitation. You don’t wait for confirmation, you don’t second-guess yourself. Trust your instincts.”

Yoongi crosses his arms. “But if you do find yourself in a fight, you need to be prepared. Running isn’t always an option.”

Namjoon unsheathes the dagger at his waist, turning it so the hilt faces Jungkook. “Show me how you’d hold it.”

Jungkook reaches for the weapon carefully, fingers wrapping around the hilt as he lifts it. He tries to mimic the way he’s seen hunters hold their weapons before, but the moment Namjoon and Yoongi exchange a look, he knows he’s done something wrong.

Namjoon steps closer. “Your grip is too stiff,” he says, adjusting Jungkook’s fingers slightly. “You need to be firm, but not rigid. If you hold it too tightly, your movements will be slower, and you’ll tire yourself out faster.” He demonstrates, flexing his own fingers around the hilt of his dagger before twisting his wrist effortlessly. “A loose but controlled grip lets you adjust more easily.”

Jungkook nods, mimicking the motion, and Namjoon watches approvingly before stepping back.

“Next, your stance.” Yoongi gestures for Jungkook to position himself. Jungkook instinctively spreads his feet apart, trying to mimic what he’s seen before, but once again, Yoongi is quick to correct him.

“You’re too stiff,” the alpha says, tapping the inside of Jungkook’s ankle with his foot to adjust his stance. “Lower your center of gravity, but stay light on your feet. You don’t want to be an easy target.”

Jungkook shifts accordingly, feeling the subtle difference in balance. It already feels more natural, like he can move more freely without losing his footing.

“Good,” Namjoon praises. “Now, let’s talk about weak points.”

Yoongi smirks slightly, tapping two fingers against his own throat. “The obvious ones are here, the neck, the windpipe, the sides where the arteries are exposed. A well-placed strike here can disable your opponent instantly, but it’s a risky target. The head and chest are both heavily protected, so unless you’re strong enough to knock someone unconscious with a blow, you should focus on other areas.”

Namjoon takes over, pointing at his side. “Here, the ribs. If you manage to land a solid hit between them, it can make it difficult for them to breathe, weakening them fast. The stomach is another good target, but only if you strike hard enough. And then there’s the back of the knees.” He gestures downward. “A kick here can throw someone off balance, making it easier to take control.”

Jungkook swallows, eyes darting between them. It’s so much to take in, but he tries to commit it all to memory. Every point, every tip, it could all be the difference between survival and vulnerability.

Yoongi nods toward him. “Think you got all that?”

Jungkook exhales, nodding determinedly. “I think so.”

Namjoon smiles. “Good. Now let’s put it into practice.”

Before they can begin their training, Jungkook hears the sound of hurried footsteps, light and quick against the grass, followed by familiar voices calling his name. He turns instinctively, his heart giving a little jump of excitement when he spots Eunha and Sejong running toward him. The two women are fast, closing the distance between them in moments, and before Jungkook can even react, they both pull him into a hug at the same time, their warmth pressing in on either side of him.

“It’s been too long,” Eunha sighs, squeezing him tightly before pulling back just enough to cup his face between her hands. “I swear, I thought I’d have to hunt you down just to see you again.”

Sejong laughs, giving his shoulder a playful shake. “Sorry we’ve been so busy. Patrols have been nonstop lately, but we would’ve come to see you sooner if we could.”

Jungkook shakes his head, a soft smile on his lips. “It’s okay, really,” he assures them. He’s just happy to see them again, happy that they remembered him, that they cared enough to be here now.

Both women grin at him, their eyes shining with warmth. “We missed you, though,” Eunha says, looping an arm around his shoulders. “And today’s going to be fun. You’ll see, it’s way better training together than it is practicing alone.”

Sejong nods in agreement. “And you’ll get to meet more of the hunters properly.” She gestures toward the approaching group, and Jungkook follows her gaze, watching as the rest of the hunters make their way toward them. There are several of them, their figures dark against the bright morning light, and Jungkook immediately recognizes two of them.

Kyungmin walks near the front, talking animatedly with another hunter, Sungjae, if Jungkook remembers correctly. The moment he catches sight of Jungkook, Kyungmin’s face lights up, and he calls out his name, his voice ringing across the training grounds.

Jungkook can’t help but smile in response, something warm blooming in his chest. Kyungmin had been nothing but kind to him since they first met, always making sure he was comfortable, explaining things to him without ever making him feel small. It’s easy to like him, to trust him, and Jungkook hopes they can become even better friends in the future.

As the rest of the hunters approach, Jungkook notices that while the others seem vaguely familiar, he doesn’t know all of their names. They must have been there that time he watched Namjoon train them, lingering in the background while he had focused on the alpha’s movements. Now, though, they’re all here, looking at him with expressions ranging from curiosity to amusement, as if assessing him.

Yoongi must notice his hesitation because he steps forward, nodding toward the group. “You’ll get to know everyone soon enough,” he says, voice calm. “They don’t bite.”

At that, Kyungmin grins. “Well, not too hard.”

Jungkook laughs, some of his nerves easing. Maybe today really will be fun.

In the end, their group totals ten: Namjoon, Yoongi, himself, Eunha, Sejong, Kyungmin, Sungjae, and three hunters Jungkook has yet to meet.

The unfamiliar trio, however, seem warm and approachable, quickly introducing themselves with easy smiles. Mingyu, a tall and broad-shouldered alpha, is the first to step forward, his grin boyish and slightly mischievous as he offers Jungkook a firm handshake.

Beside him, Dokyeom, another alpha with a bright and energetic demeanor, gives Jungkook a playful nudge, assuring him that today will be fun.

And then there’s Yugyeom, the only omega among them, whose easy confidence and infectious energy remind Jungkook a little of Jimin and Taehyung.

From the very start, the three of them make sure to include him in their conversations, cracking jokes, asking him questions, and making him feel like a natural part of the group. It’s nice. Jungkook isn’t exactly the best at making friends on his own, he’s always been a little too shy, a little too unsure of how to initiate things, but they make it easy, effortlessly drawing him in with their lively personalities. He finds himself laughing more than he expected, some of his earlier nervousness melting away.

Once introductions are done, Namjoon takes charge, his deep voice carrying over the training grounds.

“Now that everyone’s here, let’s get started.” He crosses his arms, surveying the group with a pleased nod before continuing, “We’ll go over the basics first. It’ll serve as a good refresher for everyone, and it’ll also give Jungkook the chance to see different approaches.”

Jungkook straightens at the mention of his name, feeling a flicker of anticipation in his chest.

“I want you all to pair up,” Namjoon instructs. “Demonstrate different techniques, spar a little, Jungkook will be observing at first. It’s important for him to see how different people fight, how they move, before jumping in himself.”

Almost immediately, Yugyeom and Kyungmin shoot their hands up. “We’ll go first!” Yugyeom exclaims, already jogging toward the center of the training field.

Kyungmin scoffs, following close behind Yugyeom. “Like hell you’re going to win this time,” he challenges, rolling his shoulders as he comes to a stop in front of the omega.

Jungkook blinks. Win?

Yoongi snorts, clearly unsurprised by their antics. “They do this every time.”

“Competitive idiots,” Mingyu mutters fondly, watching as Kyungmin and Yugyeom face off.

Jungkook, for his part, watches with interest. The way the two of them bounce on their feet, the way their playful expressions shift into something more focused, more controlled, it’s fascinating. Even though they’re joking, even though they’re clearly friends, there’s an underlying sharpness to them, a readiness in the way they move.

Namjoon gestures for Jungkook to pay close attention. “Watch how they position themselves. How they anticipate each other’s moves. Even though this is just a demonstration, you’ll learn a lot from them.”

Jungkook nods, eager to see what happens next.

Namjoon steps forward slightly, his authoritative presence commanding attention. He glances between Yugyeom and Kyungmin, who are still eyeing each other with eager anticipation, before nodding once. “Alright, you can start.”

At his signal, the two immediately begin to circle each other, moving in slow, deliberate steps as they search for an opening. Their eyes remain locked, muscles taut with focus, and Jungkook can see the way their bodies shift with each subtle movement, both of them waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Then, almost at the same time, they lunge.

Despite their similar height, their approaches couldn’t be more different. Kyungmin relies on sheer power, his movements aggressive and forceful as he tries to overpower Yugyeom through brute strength alone. His muscles flex as he aims for a firm hold, hoping to pin the omega down before he can retaliate.

But Yugyeom is quick and fluid, using Kyungmin’s momentum against him rather than meeting his strength head-on. Instead of resisting, he redirects, slipping out of the alpha’s grasp at the last second, forcing Kyungmin to adjust before he can get a solid grip.

Jungkook watches in fascination, eyes darting between them as they move.

“Pay attention to their techniques,” Yoongi murmurs beside him, his voice calm but instructive. “This is a good example of how different designations can affect fighting styles.”

Jungkook nods, soaking in every detail as Yoongi continues.

“Kyungmin is an alpha, so he naturally has more physical strength,” he explains. “But strength isn’t everything in a fight. If Yugyeom tried to match him head-on, he’d lose every time. That’s why he’s using a different strategy, making Kyungmin’s power work against him.”

Namjoon hums in agreement. “It’s about understanding your opponent’s strengths and weaknesses. Kyungmin relies on overpowering his opponent, while Yugyeom counters that by focusing on agility and redirection. Both strategies have merit, but the key is knowing when and how to use them.”

Jungkook nods again, watching intently as the spar continues. Yugyeom nearly manages to twist Kyungmin’s arm behind his back at one point, but the alpha is quick to counter, using his sheer force to break free before flipping Yugyeom onto the ground with a well-placed maneuver.

“Match point,” Namjoon calls as Kyungmin straightens up, grinning.

Yugyeom groans dramatically, sprawled on the ground before he props himself up on his elbows. “That was pure luck,” he huffs, pointing accusingly at the alpha. “You’re not even good at this.”

Kyungmin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Luck? That was pure skill, and you know it.”

“I’m just letting you feel good about yourself,” Yugyeom sniffs, brushing imaginary dust off his clothes as he stands. “Next round, you’re going down.”

Their bickering continues, lighthearted and familiar, and Jungkook can’t help but smile at their dynamic. He glances at Namjoon and Yoongi, who both seem equally amused, shaking their heads at the duo’s antics.

“They're always like this?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head.

Yoongi huffs a small laugh. “Every single time.”

Namjoon grins. “They could probably argue for hours, but that doesn’t change the fact that they both learn from each other.” He gestures back to the center of the training grounds. “Now, who’s next?”

Namjoon steps forward, eyes flickering between Sungjae and Mingyu, his expression thoughtful. “This one will be interesting,” he muses, voice carrying over the quiet training ground. “They’re both alphas, and they have roughly the same level of skill. That means neither of them will be able to rely on brute strength alone to win.”

Jungkook nods, glancing between the two alphas who now stand opposite each other in the field. Unlike the previous match, there’s no immediate movement, no sudden lunge. Instead, both Sungjae and Mingyu remain still, eyes locked, assessing each other.

“They’re taking their time,” Jungkook observes.

Yoongi, sitting beside him, hums in agreement.

“Because they know that in a fight like this, charging in recklessly won’t get them anywhere.” His gaze sharpens slightly as he watches them. “It’s like fighting your own reflection, same strength, same level of skill. To win, you need strategy. The first mistake will decide the match.”

At Yoongi’s signal, they are given permission to start, but neither makes a move. There is no circling like before, no shifting into battle stances. Instead, Sungjae tilts his head slightly, a smirk playing at his lips as he speaks.

“You’re looking nervous, Mingyu.”

Mingyu scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “You wish.”

But Jungkook notices how his fingers twitch slightly, how his jaw tightens just a fraction. The words had hit somewhere, even if Mingyu didn’t want to show it.

“They’re trying to get under each other’s skin,” Jungkook murmurs, brows furrowing.

Yoongi nods, his sharp eyes never leaving the two. “It’s another tactic. Physical strength isn’t the only thing that determines a fight, your mind plays a huge role too. If you can make your opponent angry, or frustrated, or insecure, you can force them into making mistakes.”

Jungkook listens intently as the two alphas continue their back-and-forth. Their words aren’t outright cruel, but they’re calculated, poking at the other’s pride, their weaknesses.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Sungjae taunts. “I remember the last time we sparred, you weren’t exactly impressive.”

Mingyu exhales through his nose, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the words. “Yeah? Well, we both know you talk more than you fight.”

They keep at it for nearly two minutes, neither willing to be the first to break. But Jungkook notices how Mingyu’s stance changes slightly, his weight shifting unevenly, as if he’s about to move forward too soon.

And Sungjae notices it too.

The moment Mingyu finally steps in, Sungjae reacts like lightning, using his opponent’s slight impatience against him. He dodges, twisting at the last second to grab Mingyu’s wrist, and with a practiced motion, he throws him off balance. Mingyu stumbles but quickly regains his footing, his jaw tightening as he lunges again.

This fight lasts longer than the previous one. Unlike Yugyeom and Kyungmin, whose difference in designations made their battle about countering strengths, Sungjae and Mingyu’s fight is evenly matched, their blows landing with equal force, their dodges just as swift. There’s a sharp precision to their movements, a clear understanding of each other’s abilities.

For several minutes, neither gains the upper hand. But then, Mingyu makes a miscalculation.

He anticipates Sungjae’s next move wrong, stepping too far left when he should have gone right. It’s small, barely noticeable, but Sungjae catches it instantly. In one fluid motion, he takes advantage of the opening, landing a sharp hit to Mingyu’s side before using the momentum to knock him down.

A beat of silence follows. Then Namjoon nods, satisfied. “Match point. Sungjae wins.”

Mingyu groans, lying flat on the ground as he catches his breath. “Damn it.”

Sungjae, still standing, wipes the sweat off his forehead before grinning down at him. “Told you I’d win.”

Mingyu huffs, running a hand through his hair before propping himself up on his elbows. “Yeah, yeah. You'll lose next time.”

Their competitiveness is obvious, but there’s no real animosity between them.

Namjoon turns back to him then.

“That’s a good example of how reading your opponent matters just as much as skill,” he explains. “Sungjae won because he noticed the moment Mingyu got too impatient and used it against him.”

Jungkook nods, absorbing every word.

His mind buzzes with everything he’s learning, excitement and curiosity growing as he watches the two alphas shake hands before stepping away.

“Alright,” Namjoon says, looking at the rest of them.

“Who’s next?”

Notes:

Hey guys!! 🥰

I swear, I’ve said this a million times, but I live for YoonKook. Their dynamic is just everything. They’re literal opposites. Jungkook is so shy and sweet, while Yoongi is intense and brooding. I’m here for these kinds of relationships, seriously. 💜

You can totally tell Yoongi feels bad about how cold he was in the beginning, especially now that he actually cares about Jungkook 🥺🥺. That’s probably why their relationship isn’t moving as fast as some of the others, it just wouldn’t make sense otherwise. They need to get closer and work for it. But honestly, we’re all here for more moments between them. Well, at least I am! 💕

And I just know Yoongi feels awful for making Jungkook cry too. Like, Yoongi, you can lie to yourself all you want, but the truth is… you did make him cry. 😭

Also, can we talk about Jimin and Tae freaking out when Jungkook cries without them?? 😂 Like, come on, he can’t be glued to you 24/7! But I get it, they were the first to meet him and share that tight bond where they never want to be apart again. Honestly, I can’t blame them. 😅💕

And guess who’s stepping into the story now?? Of course, Jungkook’s OG friends, Yugyeom, Dokyeom, and Mingyu! They’re basically staples in every Jungkook-centric fanfic I’ve read. I didn’t tag Seventeen or Got7 here because I want you all to feel free to imagine them as original characters or not. Whatever works for you! 😉

Plus, who doesn’t love a good training arc? Can’t wait to see how Jungkook does in the next chapter! 😆🔥

--

Hope you’ve all been doing well since the last chapter! I’m a bit less busy lately, which is awesome for the fic, plus, I’ve got so many new ideas flowing. ✨

Last week was pretty stressful though. I was maid of honor at a wedding for the first time ever! 😳 It was my dad and mother-in-law’s wedding, so my sister and I had to organize a secular ceremony. I don’t know if it’s common where you live, but where I am, if there’s no church ceremony, a secular one is pretty standard.

Planning everything was… something else, let me tell you. Who decided public speeches should be a thing?? I literally had to speak into a mic for like half an hour! 😱 Thankfully, I didn’t stutter, but wow, it’s really not for me. I hate having all eyes on me. That’s definitely gonna be a problem at my wedding, but hey, that’s a problem for when I have a rich husband! 😂💍

Anyway, that’s all for now. See you next time and take care!! 💖✨

Chapter 50: Subtle Flames

Summary:

Jungkook continues to train with the hunters

Notes:

I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting for so long! My deepest apologies, please forgive me. I hope you'll still enjoy this chapter, though!

As Eunha and Sejong step forward, Jungkook notices the shift in atmosphere.

The previous matches had been filled with teasing competitiveness, bursts of energy, and even a bit of bickering, but this time, there’s something soft in the way the two approach each other. Their eyes meet, and for a moment, the world around them seems to fade, leaving just the two of them standing in the training field.

Yoongi hums thoughtfully next to him.

“This one will be interesting for three reasons,” he begins, his voice even, yet carrying a note of curiosity.

“The first two are the same as before, different designations and similar size. Eunha’s a beta, Sejong’s an alpha. That alone makes the dynamic unique.”

Namjoon picks up where Yoongi left off, his tone patient as he explains, “But the third reason is the most important.” He gestures toward the pair, his gaze thoughtful.

“They’re mates.”

Jungkook blinks in surprise. That bit of information had slipped his mind. Now that he’s looking closer, he notices the way they carry themselves around each other, a silent understanding passing between them. It’s different from the other alphas and betas he’s met. There’s a natural ease, like they’re two halves of the same coin.

Namjoon continues, “For us shifters, it’s almost impossible to harm a mate. It’s an instinct so deeply ingrained in us that our bodies simply won’t allow it. Of course, there are exceptions, but when a mating bond is formed out of love, like theirs, it becomes nearly unbreakable.”

Yoongi nods. “It’s not just the physical aspect either. Their wolves won’t let them hurt each other, but their minds won’t either. Even if they try, the hesitation will be there. They’ll have to work around it, find a way to win without resorting to anything too forceful.”

Jungkook absorbs this information, watching as Eunha and Sejong prepare themselves. Unlike the previous fights, there’s no tension in the air, no attempts to rile the other up. Instead, they step lightly, positioning themselves with calculated grace. When Namjoon signals for them to begin, neither lunges, neither rushes forward.

Instead, they move like they’re dancing.

Jungkook watches in fascination as Eunha sidesteps, forcing Sejong to readjust. There’s no brute force in their attacks, no sharp clashes of strength. Instead, their fight is all about finesse and strategy, each movement carefully measured.

Sejong attempts to get behind Eunha, but she twists at the last second, avoiding her grasp with a smooth, effortless motion. She doesn’t counter with a punch or a strike, rather, she angles herself just right, forcing Sejong to reposition yet again.

“They’re not fighting like the others did,” Jungkook murmurs.

Yoongi smirks next to him. “Because they’re not relying on power. They’re playing a game of chess.”

And it does feel like that. Every step Eunha takes forces Sejong to rethink her own. When she reaches for her, Eunha ducks out of reach just before she can make contact. It’s not about overpowering the other, it’s about outmaneuvering them.

Sejong, despite her status as an alpha, isn’t using her full strength. She doesn’t even attempt it. Instead, she plays along with Eunha’s pace, using her agility rather than brute force. And Eunha, as a beta, doesn’t try to overpower her mate either.

She knows she can’t match Sejong in sheer strength, so she doesn’t waste her energy trying. Instead, she outthinks her, predicts her movements before she makes them.

Jungkook sees it clearly now. Their bond changes the way they fight. Where others sought to land a decisive hit, Eunha and Sejong seem to be weaving around each other, finding ways to gain the upper hand without ever actually hurting the other.

At one point, Sejong nearly manages to pin Eunha, but at the last second, the beta hooks her foot behind Sejong’s ankle and sweeps her legs out from under her. She topples, landing on her back with a huff. Eunha, grinning, kneels beside her mate, resting her weight just enough to hold her down.

Namjoon chuckles. “And that’s match point.”

Sejong exhales, shaking her head in defeat but smiling nonetheless. “I should’ve seen that coming.”

Eunha laughs, poking her cheek teasingly. “You always underestimate me darling.”

Jungkook watches them, fascinated by the stark difference between this match and the ones before it. It wasn’t about winning through sheer dominance, it was about understanding, about knowing each other’s weaknesses and adapting.

Namjoon turns to Jungkook. “That was a perfect example of how strategy can outweigh power,” he explains. “They had to work around their instincts, had to rely on their intelligence rather than force.”

Yoongi nods. “In a real fight, knowing how to do that can mean everything.”

Jungkook feels something settle in him as he absorbs their words. This was more than just training, it was a lesson on how to survive. And he would make sure to learn everything he could.

Namjoon exhales, his gaze sweeping over the group before settling on Jungkook. His expression is calm, thoughtful even, but there’s a certain weight behind his words as he speaks.

“You won’t have to worry about fighting a mate,” he says evenly, his words tapering into a silence heavy with implication, something Jungkook doesn’t need to hear to understand.

Because he’s not mated.

The thought lingers for just a second before Namjoon moves on, shifting the conversation forward.

“But that doesn’t mean you won’t ever have to fight someone you know.”

Jungkook listens closely, the seriousness in Namjoon’s voice making his stomach coil with unease. He hadn’t really considered that. Fighting isn't something he wants to do in the first place, much less against someone familiar.

“You never know what the future holds,” Namjoon continues, his voice steady but firm. “And it’s always easier to fight a stranger. When that happens, your instincts take over, your fight or flight response kicks in, and your body does what it needs to do to survive. But when it’s someone you know, hesitation will creep in.”

His sharp eyes flick toward Jungkook, “And hesitation is the worst thing that can happen.”

Jungkook swallows. He doesn’t like the idea of that, of being put in a position where he has to fight someone he trusts. It makes his chest feel tight, uncomfortable, but he understands why Namjoon is saying it.

Before the weight of his words can settle too heavily, Namjoon straightens, shaking off the tension.

“Alright,” he says, clapping his hands together. “Let’s move on. Everyone, pair up with someone new. We’re going to practice knife handling.”

There’s a quiet murmur as people shift, looking for partners. Jungkook glances around just in time to see Kyungmin making his way toward him, a relaxed smile on his face.

“Guess it’s you and me, huh?” Kyungmin says with easy warmth, stopping in front of him.

Jungkook nods, a quiet breath slipping from his lips. He doesn’t know Kyungmin that well yet, not really, but the alpha has been nothing but kind since they met, always warm and kind. Despite his size, there’s something gentle about him, something steady that puts Jungkook at ease.

“Seems like it,” Jungkook murmurs, offering a faint smile as he steps closer. But before Kyungmin can speak again, the air shifts.

It’s subtle, like the hush that falls before a storm, but Jungkook feels it ripple down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck rise, instinct catching what his eyes haven’t yet.

He knows that presence.

Yoongi.

Jungkook doesn’t even have to turn to confirm it. The weight of that gaze makes his pulse jump, steady and unyielding, finding him with uncanny accuracy. When Jungkook does finally glance up, Yoongi’s eyes are already on him, sharp and unwavering. They flick briefly toward Kyungmin, a silent acknowledgment, before locking back onto Jungkook.

The stare is intense. Not hostile, not exactly. But heavy. Focused in a way that has Jungkook’s breath falter. Yoongi looks at him like he’s tracing each line of his face, like he’s committing him to memory, piece by piece.

Jungkook shifts, uncertain under the scrutiny, his fingers brushing at the hem of his sleeve. His chest feels tight, every inhale a little shallower than the last. It always feels like this when the alpha is near.

Yoongi doesn’t move right away. He just watches, eyes dark, unreadable, as though weighing something silently. The moment stretches, taut and fragile, until Jungkook feels as though a single word could shatter it.

Then Yoongi steps forward.

Deliberate. Unhurried. The kind of movement that doesn’t ask permission, doesn’t need it.

Jungkook’s pulse hammers as the distance shrinks, his body tensing without his consent. Yoongi is close now, close enough that Jungkook can feel the warmth radiating from him, close enough that the air between them seems to vibrate with something unnamed.

He doesn’t speak. Not a single word.

Instead, Yoongi leans in, slow, certain, his intent written in the quiet steadiness of his approach. Jungkook barely has time to process, barely has time to inhale, before soft lips brush against his temple.

The world tilts on its axis, the simple contact unraveling Jungkook from the inside out. It’s so soft, a whisper of contact, but it crashes through Jungkook as if the world just shifted.

The warmth is immediate, searing and tender all at once, flooding his chest until he can’t breathe properly. His throat tightens, eyes stinging as if the smallest touch has cracked something open inside him. He feels the imprint of Yoongi’s lips not just on his skin but echoing through his whole body.

His breath stumbles, caught between a gasp and a whimper. Not because the kiss was bold, it wasn’t.

It was careful, fleeting.

But because it’s Yoongi.

Yoongi, who almost never touches him. Yoongi, whose silences say more than words ever could. Yoongi, who carries his emotions like locked boxes no one else is allowed to see.

And yet here he is, close enough that Jungkook can feel the soft brush of his breath, the steady press of lips that linger a moment too long, long enough to make Jungkook’s heart pound like it might burst from his ribs.

When Yoongi finally pulls back, it’s only just, his gaze holding Jungkook’s with an intensity that leaves him trembling.

“Be careful with your hand,” he says at last, voice low and rough, like it hurt to force the words out instead of something else. Before Jungkook can reply, before he can even breathe, Yoongi turns and walks away. No glance back. No explanation.

Just silence in his wake.

Jungkook goes utterly still, every nerve sparking, his heart tripping over itself as his mind struggles to catch up with what just happened. His fingers twitch uselessly at his side, betraying the storm beneath his skin. The spot where Yoongi’s lips touched still burns, searing, unforgettable.

And yet, he can’t bring himself to move.

Kyungmin, still beside him, watches Yoongi leave with an amused smile, his gaze flicking back to Jungkook with an eyebrow raised.

“Well,” he chuckles. “That was cute.”

Jungkook whines, covering his face with his hands. 

Kyungmin only laughs, nudging him playfully. “Come on, let’s get started before your alpha decides to come back and hover.”

The words hit harder than they should. Jungkook stumbles in his step, his ears going hot in an instant.

“He’s not- he’s not my alpha,” he blurts, voice higher than he means it to be. 

Kyungmin slows, tilting his head at him with a grin that’s all amusement, no bite.

“Mm. Could’ve fooled me.”

Jungkook’s cheeks burn hotter. “I mean it! He’s not-” His protest falters, tumbling over itself as if even his tongue is embarrassed to keep going. He ducks his head, hoping Kyungmin won’t notice how red he’s gone.

“Hey, hey,” Kyungmin chuckles, reaching out to nudge his shoulder again, gentler this time. “Relax. I’m not teasing you to be mean. It’s just… obvious.” He shrugs like it’s the simplest truth in the world. “Anyone looking can see it.”

Jungkook makes a small, strangled noise, half-whine, half-groan.

“That’s not-” The words trail off before he can finish, the denial collapsing under the weight of his own flustered heartbeat. Kyungmin laughs again and lifts a hand to ruffle Jungkook’s hair before he can dodge away.

“You’re really cute when you get like this, you know? It's fun to tease you.”

Jungkook huffs, lips pursed in a pout, but the sound is weak and unconvincing. His heart’s still racing, his chest too tight, and no amount of pretending will calm it down. He forces his feet to move when Kyungmin tugs him forward, following along with his head ducked low.

Still, no matter how hard he tries to push the moment away, the words echo inside him, looping with every step.

Your alpha.

And the cruelest part is that he can’t even pretend it doesn’t feel real. Can’t pretend he doesn’t want it to be real. He knows that Yoongi must feel something for him, at least a little, otherwise the alpha would never have agreed to court him. But still, the only closeness they’ve ever shared has always been born of panic and distress. Yoongi had touched him then, yes, but only to steady him, to anchor him, never with romance laced in the gesture.

But now… now Yoongi had chosen to kiss him. Not by accident. Not because Jungkook had been trembling or on the verge of breaking apart. Yoongi had given him this moment deliberately, placed it in his hands like something fragile and precious.

But why? Why now? They hadn’t even been speaking, hadn’t been sharing anything except the silence between them. What had Jungkook missed? What meaning was hidden beneath that sudden kiss?

His thoughts are threatening to spiral, looping tighter and tighter, until Kyungmin’s voice cuts through, steady and practical, explaining how they’ll train together.

The alpha turns out to be an incredibly patient and thorough teacher. He walks Jungkook through the different ways to hold a knife, explaining how each grip serves a specific purpose in a fight. The standard grip, where the blade extends forward, is best for quick slashes and thrusts, offering both speed and control.

The reverse grip, with the blade pointing downward, is more defensive but allows for devastating close-range strikes. He even demonstrates how shifting his hold mid-fight can give him an advantage, showing Jungkook how fluid and adaptable knife combat can be.

As they practice together, the conversation flows naturally between them. Kyungmin shares bits and pieces about himself, his voice warm and open, making it easy for Jungkook to listen.

“I have two little sisters,” he mentions at one point, grinning fondly. “They’re a handful, but I love them. I was pretty much their designated babysitter growing up.” He chuckles, shaking his head as he corrects Jungkook’s stance, lightly tapping his wrist to adjust his grip.

Jungkook listens, intrigued. He hadn’t known much about Kyungmin before today, and it’s nice, this slow unraveling of who he is beyond the polite and easygoing alpha he’s met a few times.

When Kyungmin tells him that he’s actually from a different pack, Jungkook perks up with interest.

“Really?” he asks, shifting his weight slightly as he mimics the movement Kyungmin just demonstrated.

“Yeah,” Kyungmin nods. “My family was originally part of a traditional pack. Very strict hierarchy, a lot of outdated rules.” He rolls his eyes slightly at the memory. “My parents didn’t want that for us. They wanted us to have a choice in how we lived our lives, so they decided to leave when I was about ten. It wasn’t easy, leaving a pack never is, but we found our way to the Moon Pack, and Namjoon’s parents took us in.”

His expression softens, something wistful in the way he speaks.

“They were good people. Great pack leaders.”

Jungkook hesitates for a moment before speaking, unsure if he’s stepping into sensitive territory. He doesn’t want to pry into Namjoon’s private life, but curiosity tugs at him anyway.

“What were they like?” he asks cautiously.

Kyungmin doesn’t seem to mind the question. In fact, he smiles, like he’s remembering something dear.

“They were kind,” he says simply. “Strong, but fair. They made sure Namjoon grew up knowing what it meant to be a leader, to take care of the pack. He was raised with the expectation that he’d take over one day, and they prepared him for it in every way they could.”

There’s a slight pause before Kyungmin exhales, his tone dipping into something more solemn.

“What happened was really unfortunate,” he murmurs, the weight of those words pressing heavy in the space between them. He doesn’t elaborate, but he doesn’t need to. Jungkook can hear the grief in his voice, the lingering sorrow.

Kyungmin’s expression turns more serious as he continues, his voice dipping lower as if recounting the past requires a certain level of reverence.

“It happened around eight years ago,” he says, twirling his practice knife absentmindedly between his fingers. “They had gone out on a patrol. There were a lot of hostile packs trying to test our borders back then, pushing into our territory to see if they could get away with it. It wasn’t unusual for the pack leaders to personally oversee patrols, especially during high-risk times.”

Jungkook listens intently, his fingers tightening slightly around the handle of his own knife.

“They got cornered,” Kyungmin continues, shaking his head. “Not by another pack, though. It was humans. A group of hunters, ones who knew exactly what they were doing. They were well-prepared, using silver weapons. The kind that doesn’t just wound but poisons too, seeping into the bloodstream and making it impossible to heal properly.”

His jaw clenches slightly, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the flicker of emotion that crosses his face.

“By the time our healers got to them, it was too late.”

Jungkook exhales slowly, a deep sense of sadness settling in his chest. He’s never asked about how Namjoon became the pack alpha, but hearing it now, it makes his heart ache. He pictures a young Namjoon, still just a boy, shouldering the weight of an entire pack, stepping into the role of a leader not because he was ready, but because he had no choice.

“That’s how Namjoon became our pack alpha,” Kyungmin says, his voice softer now. “Seventeen years old and suddenly responsible for everyone. He had to step up overnight, had to be strong for all of us when he was probably still grieving himself. He’s done an amazing job, though. No one can deny that.”

He pauses before adding with a small, knowing smile, “Maybe he’s a little too protective sometimes, but… can you really blame him?”

Jungkook shakes his head. No, he really can’t.

They fall into a comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation lingering between them, before Kyungmin shifts the topic. “But enough about the past,” he says, nudging Jungkook’s arm with his elbow. “Let’s talk about you.”

Jungkook blinks, startled. “Me?”

Kyungmin grins. “Yeah, you. You and your little situation.” His eyes flicker with something teasing. “You know, I can smell you’ve been claimed.”

Jungkook stiffens, his face heating up instantly. “Wh—what?”

Kyungmin laughs at his reaction, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, come on, don’t look so surprised. I told you before, didn’t I? You’re too oblivious for your own good.” He gestures vaguely toward Jungkook, as if the answer is written all over him. “You carry their scent now, stronger than before. It’s subtle, but to a shifter, it’s still painfully obvious.”

Jungkook swallows, shifting uncomfortably. He supposes it makes sense. He’s noticed how their scents lingers on him even when they aren’t around but hearing Kyungmin say it out loud makes it feel different, more real somehow.

Seeing his flustered expression, Kyungmin chuckles and leans in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.

“So? You’re courting now, right? More than courting, I’d say, with how strongly you smell of them.”

Jungkook thinks he might actually die of embarrassment. His ears burn, his cheeks are scorching, and Kyungmin’s knowing grin only makes it worse. He ducks his head, hands fidgeting uselessly at his sides.

“I... Is it really that obvious?” he blurts, voice small.

Kyungmin chuckles, softer this time, like he doesn’t mean to be cruel, just amused.

“To shifters? Yeah. Clear as day. But don’t look like that, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” His tone gentles, the smirk fading into something more reassuring. “Courting is encouraged here, Jungkook. It’s respected. No one’s going to think less of you for it. They'll be happy for you.”

Jungkook swallows, the knot in his chest easing just a little, though the blush refuses to fade.

Then Kyungmin tilts his head, grin returning. “And I bet Jimin and Taehyung had something to say about it, huh?”

Jungkook groans, covering his face with both hands. Of course they did. He exhales a small laugh, remembering that chaotic night. “Actually… your little play during the festival helped a lot.”

Kyungmin’s eyebrows raise with interest. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods. “Right after the flower crown ceremony, Jimin-hyung and Taehyung-hyung asked to court me.”

Kyungmin lets out a triumphant laugh. “I knew it! I knew those two wouldn’t sit still much longer.” He claps Jungkook on the back, grinning. “See? I told you I was helping.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes but can’t help but smile. “Thank you.”

Kyungmin shot him a wink. “You can thank me properly later. A really good meal should do it, I deserve at least that for this good deed. Honestly, I’m not even this committed when it comes to my own love life.”

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. He never expected today’s training session to turn into a deep dive into his love life, but somehow, he doesn’t mind. Kyungmin’s easygoing nature makes it feel natural.

The alpha leans in with a conspiratorial grin, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper.

“By the way, you know Yoongi totally gave me the ‘stay away’ eyes when he kissed you earlier, right?”

Jungkook blinks, his face already heating up before he can even fully process the words. “W-what?”

Kyungmin chuckles, clearly enjoying his reaction.

“Yeah, you should’ve seen his face. It was like, ‘Look all you want, but don’t even think about touching.’” Kyungmin smirks, tilting his head. “He made his claim crystal clear, just in case anyone has any doubts. Honestly, it was kind of attractive. I might try it myself when I find the one.”

Jungkook lets out a squeaky, indignant noise and smacks Kyungmin’s chest before he can stop himself. The alpha only laughs, not even flinching at the weak hit.

“Aww, don’t be shy,” Kyungmin teases, his grin stretching wider. “It was really cute. Yoongi isn’t the type to show affection in public, and him doing it can only mean one thing, he cares about you. Enough to kiss you in front of everyone. And well… I’d say he wanted everyone to see.”

Jungkook frowns faintly, shaking his head. “I don’t think… I don’t think hyung would’ve done that just to make a statement. He knows you’re my friend. He wouldn’t…” His voice trails off, uncertain but stubborn.

Kyungmin only chuckles, leaning back with that infuriatingly knowing grin. “You’re too innocent, Jungkook. That alpha of yours was jealous, don’t try to tell me otherwise. And it’s not just me saying it, either. His scent was practically dripping with it. If he really believed we were just friends, he wouldn’t have looked at me like that.”

Jungkook blinks at him, startled. “Jealousy?”

“Of course,” Kyungmin hums, sounding almost bored, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I might’ve poked the bear a little, I’ll admit that. The festival was far too dull otherwise. But I knew they’d bite, that was the point wasn't it? Maybe I played my role a little too well though. I’m fairly certain Yoongi thinks I’m after you. He kissed you right in front of me, you know? A neat little warning to back off. Not that it was necessary, but… he doesn’t know that.”

Kyungmin’s words feel teasing, playful even, but not dishonest. The alpha doesn’t strike him as someone who lies. If anything, Kyungmin seems like the type to always speak his mind without filter.

Jungkook’s chest tightens. Is this true? Had Yoongi really tried to make a statement? Because of Kyungmin? The thought seems ridiculous, silly even. Him and Kyungmin are friends, nothing more. And yet… the way Yoongi had kissed him, fierce and unyielding, his scent burning sharp in the air,

Jungkook swallows hard. Maybe Kyungmin wasn’t wrong.

After that, they settle back into training, Kyungmin guiding Jungkook through different techniques, showing him how to switch grips quickly, how to maneuver a knife to make it harder to be disarmed. Jungkook learns quickly, absorbing each lesson with sharp focus, and Kyungmin praises him for his natural reflexes. They move on from basic handling to more fluid movements, practicing controlled strikes and dodges.

Time passes in a blur until, eventually, Eunha and Sejong approach, their steps light as they join them in the training area. Jungkook barely has time to register their presence before both women are waving at him, their expressions filled with fond amusement.

“Hey, finished with practice already? What are you two scheming over without us?” Eunha asks, tilting her head, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“N-nothing!” Jungkook stammers, voice high and tight. He fumbles with his hands, twisting them together like they’ll somehow disappear. His ears heat up immediately, and he wishes he could melt into the ground because he knows Kyungmin will gossip with them.

Kyungmin smirks, leaning slightly closer to the girls, clearly enjoying the tension radiating off Jungkook.

“Actually, we were just talking about something very exciting earlier,” he says, voice low and teasing. “Jungkook is being courted.”

Jungkook freezes, eyes widening in sheer panic. “W-what? N-no! I-I mean—I don’t...” His protest falls apart halfway through, his words tripping over each other.

Eunha and Sejong exchange triumphant, knowing looks.

“We knew it!” Sejong laughs, practically bouncing. "We’ve been predicting this for what feels like forever!"

“Exactly!” Eunha chimes in, giggling, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “We’ve been betting on it from the very beginning! Honestly, it was so obvious—I’m surprised no one tried to snatch you away before they even officially decided to court you.”

Jungkook groans, shoving a hand into his face as if covering it could erase the embarrassment, though it only makes him look smaller and even more flustered. “S-stop saying that! I-I can’t... I mean... I’m not...”

Kyungmin chuckles, gently ruffling Jungkook’s hair. “Relax. We’ve been watching you get all shy around them for a while. We're just stating facts. You’re way too easy to read. We're teasing you because we're happy for you.”

Jungkook squeaks, trying to hide behind his hands, peeking out only to see the girls leaning closer, grinning like predators who’ve cornered their prey.

“Oh, hush,” Eunha says, poking his arm playfully. “You’re going to make such a pretty mate for them. We’ve been imagining it this whole time. You're exactly what they need.”

Sejong leans in conspiratorially. “Honestly, we’ve been rooting for this from day one. You and them, it was obvious from the very start. Now that they have you, you better believe they’ll never let you go.”

Jungkook groans again, body trembling with mortification, heart hammering so hard he’s sure they can hear it. He wants to disappear, but his legs betray him and he shuffles forward helplessly, a completely shy, flustered mess.

Kyungmin just laughs softly at his reaction, clearly savoring every second of it, while Jungkook continues to melt under the combined amusement and attention of the three of them.

Jungkook’s entire face burns. “I... I don’t know about that,” he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. “Isn't a claim temporary?”

At that, both women pause before sharing a look, their expressions shifting slightly. “Oh, sweetheart,” Sejong says, her voice softer now, as if she finds something deeply amusing yet endearing about his innocence.

"There’s nothing temporary about that scent you carry. Not even a trace"

Jungkook blinks. “What?”

Eunha hums, tilting her head thoughtfully. “If it were temporary, their scents wouldn’t cling to you like this. It wouldn’t feel so… final.” She pauses, studying him carefully, a small, knowing smile curving her lips.

“This is the kind of scent that says ‘mine.’ It’s unmistakable. Sure, a claim fades over time, but that doesn’t make the intent behind it any less real. I’m fairly certain this claim was the closest thing to mating they could do without scaring you off. They did it because it’s the strongest statement they can make right now. That’s just our opinion… but, as always, we're never wrong.”

Jungkook feels like his brain short-circuits. He stares at them, lips parted as he processes their words. That... that couldn’t be right, could it? His heart thumps against his ribs as he thinks back to what Jin had told him before.

“Jin-hyung did say they see the bites as permanent but...” he admits hesitantly.

Eunha and Sejong both laugh, clearly delighted. “Well, there’s your answer then,” Sejong says, reaching out to gently tap his nose with her finger.

“You’re already theirs, sweetheart.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say to that. He swallows, his mind whirling as he tries to figure out exactly how he feels about it. But before he can dwell on it too much, Eunha and Sejong pull him back into training, seamlessly continuing their lesson as if they hadn’t just casually dropped a bomb on him.

A few minutes later, Namjoon’s voice cuts back in, deep and even as it carries across the training field.

“Alright. Time to put everything into practice. Pick a partner. Use what you’ve seen in the matches, don’t overdo it. This isn’t about winning.”

Eunha and Sejong exchange a look and step a few meters away, giving themselves space. Jungkook watches them with a flicker of nerves tightening his chest. Everyone else moves instinctively, pairing off with ease. And then it’s just him and Kyungmin left standing in the same spot.

Jungkook shifts on his feet.

“I’ve never done this before,” he says under his breath, not quite sure if he means the sparring or just being part of something like this. Maybe both.

Kyungmin catches it anyway. He smiles, soft, warm, like sunlight through clouds. “It’s just the first practice,” he says easily, resting his hands on his hips. “No one expects perfection. We train because we care about each other. That’s all.”

Jungkook blinks, surprised by how much those words calm him.

Kyungmin tips his head, grin widening. “Besides, I won’t go hard on you. Promise. This isn’t about showing off, it’s about helping you learn. We’re practicing, not fighting for real.”

Jungkook lets out a slow breath, the pressure in his chest easing slightly. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “Really.”

He means it. Kyungmin has been nothing but kind since the day they met, gentle in the way he speaks, patient in the way he explains things, never treating Jungkook like he’s less just because he’s human. In a pack full of people who still feel a little too big and unknowable, Kyungmin is easy to breathe around.

Jungkook finds himself hoping, really hoping, that they’ll become good friends.

Kyungmin gives a nod as if reading his mind. “Alright. Ready?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says, setting his stance as he remembers from watching the others.

They begin slowly, Kyungmin guiding him through the first movements with gentle corrections and murmured encouragements. His instructions are clear, simple enough to follow without getting overwhelmed, and he never rushes Jungkook. Every time he hesitates, Kyungmin is already there with a quiet word or a gesture that helps him refocus.

And surprisingly… Jungkook doesn’t do too badly. He stumbles a few times, fumbles a grip, misjudges a step but his body remembers more than he expected. Maybe from watching so many matches.

Maybe from instinct. Maybe from survival.

Still, there’s no ignoring the difference in strength.

Kyungmin is an alpha, he's trained, confident, physically superior in ways Jungkook can’t match. It’s not a matter of effort. It’s biology. So, of course, it ends with Jungkook flat on his back, a puff of breath escaping him as he lands in the grass. Kyungmin hovers above him, one knee planted just beside Jungkook’s hip, his hand braced against the ground for balance.

He’s not heavy, not rough. But the position is undeniably one of victory.

Jungkook stares up at him, blinking in surprise. His heart still racing a little from the fall. He’s not disappointed, he’d expected this.

He knows he’s the least experienced person here. Still, a small, nagging voice in the back of his mind whispers that maybe he could’ve done better. Maybe Namjoon and Yoongi were watching. Maybe the others noticed how easily he lost.

But Kyungmin doesn’t seem the slightest bit unimpressed. In fact, he raises a brow and says, “We’re not done just yet.”

Jungkook blinks. “Huh?”

Kyungmin’s grin turns almost mischievous. “Stay down.”

Jungkook stares at him, incredulous. “What?”

“Keep lying down. We'll try something else” He gestures toward the spot where Jungkook had landed moments ago. “I want to see how you try to get out from under someone.”

Jungkook hesitates. “But… I can’t. You’re stronger than me. You’re a trained hunter...”

Kyungmin cuts him off with a patient shake of his head.

“Exactly. That’s why this matters. Out there, it won’t always be fair. Sometimes you’ll be on your back, and whoever’s on top won’t give you a chance to think. You need to know what your body wants to do when you’re trapped.”

Jungkook swallows, hesitating again before slowly sinking back down. The snow covered grass is cool against his skin, and the sky above feels too wide, too open. 

Kyungmin crouches down and settles above him again, carefully, not looming or threatening. He keeps his weight balanced, hands braced so Jungkook doesn’t feel crushed. Still, the position is undeniably dominant. 

“I don’t know any techniques,” Jungkook admits, voice quiet.

Kyungmin offers a reassuring smile. “That’s okay. I don’t want you to use any. Not yet. Just instinct. Show me what you’d do to get out.”

Jungkook frowns, unsure, his mind already scrambling through options and finding none. “You really think I can get out?”

Kyungmin’s gaze softens. “I think you’ll surprise yourself. It’s not always about strength. Speed, timing, leverage, they all matter more than most people think.”

Jungkook breathes in slowly. Kyungmin isn’t mocking him. He’s not testing him to prove a point. He’s giving him a chance to learn.

He nods once. “Okay.”

Kyungmin settles into position again, more stable this time, ready.

“Alright,” he says gently. “Whenever you’re ready… try to free yourself.”

Jungkook shifts slightly on the grass, the blades cool and damp beneath his back as Kyungmin adjusts his position above him. The alpha is careful, weight distributed through his knees and forearms so he’s not crushing Jungkook beneath him. Kyungmin’s thighs straddle Jungkook’s hips, his hands planted firmly on either side of his shoulders.

Caged in.

Jungkook inhales slowly, feeling the tight coil of nerves in his stomach. His heart thuds a little faster than it should.

He starts by shifting his weight, trying to test where Kyungmin is most anchored. His left foot digs into the earth, pushing upward to buck his hips, but Kyungmin rides the motion easily, counterbalancing without even flinching. Jungkook grits his teeth and twists, aiming to roll to the side, but again, Kyungmin shifts with him like water, fluid and steady, refusing to be unseated.

He tries again. This time he pushes up sharply with both feet, snapping his hips and shoulders in opposite directions like he'd seen Eunha do earlier. Kyungmin’s torso lifts slightly, but not enough. He doesn’t budge.

Jungkook huffs in frustration, limbs straining as he tries again, changing angles, trying to jam his elbow between their bodies to create space, but it’s no use. Kyungmin is heavier, stronger, and far more experienced.

But Jungkook isn’t helpless.

He plants one foot more firmly, hooking a leg around Kyungmin’s thigh and attempts to twist again, faster this time. There’s a flicker of surprise on Kyungmin’s face, just a small one, as he’s forced to shift a hand and catch his balance. It’s not enough to throw him, but Jungkook feels a burst of pride stir in his chest.

He did something. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something.

It’s probably not as big as it feels, but to him, after a lifetime of believing he was defenseless and fragile, it feels like he’s just achieved something monumental.

Kyungmin grins down at him. “There you go.”

Jungkook is panting lightly now, chest rising and falling, face warm with exertion. Sweat clings to his temples, and his limbs ache faintly with the strain of trying over and over again to gain the upper hand. He keeps pushing, keeps twisting, keeps trying different things, he even manages to get his arm up enough to start squirming sideways.

But Kyungmin simply shifts again, reasserting his hold with minimal effort, his breath still steady, gaze unreadable.

After nearly two minutes of struggle, Jungkook finally drops his head back with a frustrated groan.

“Okay,” he pants, voice breathless. “I give up.”

Kyungmin chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender before quickly pushing himself up and off Jungkook. One moment he’s hovering over him, smiling and laughing softly, the next, he’s glancing behind them, his expression just a little startled.

He moves fast, faster than Jungkook expects, and the absence of his weight hits suddenly and completely. It’s not abrupt or harsh, but there’s a tautness in the motion, as if Kyungmin can’t bear to stay there any longer. 

Jungkook blinks up at him, still sprawled on the grass, breathing heavily. “Are you okay?” he starts to ask, concern lacing his voice. “Did I—?”

But he stops.

Because in that instant, he feels it, a shift in the air, heavy and electric, like a storm gathering silently above. A presence presses against him, undeniable and charged.

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, stuttering as his gaze lifts, irresistibly drawn to the figure now standing just a few meters away.

Namjoon.

The alpha’s stance is calm, but there’s something stormy in the way he holds himself, an intense stillness that feels more dangerous than movement. His eyes are fixed on Kyungmin. He’s not moving, not even speaking but his expression is carved from stone, his gaze steady and filled with something Jungkook doesn’t quite understand.

Kyungmin dips his head, a sign of deference that seems to calm the tension slightly, and takes a slow step back before walking away.

Only then does Namjoon look away.

His gaze shifts, finally landing on Jungkook.

And in an instant, that weight, that pressure, it all softens.

The alpha’s expression shifts. He’s not smiling, yet his eyes, soft and warm, lock onto him, unyielding. Jungkook can feel Namjoon’s gaze taking him in, sweeping over him as he lies in the snow, flushed and panting from the struggle to free himself, chest heaving, curls damp with sweat. Every look lands like a weight, intimate and unrelenting, stirring something deep in him that’s equal parts thrilling and… terrifying.

Namjoon steps forward, closing the distance between them in silence.

Then, wordlessly, he offers his hand.

Namjoon’s hand hovers in front of him, large and steady, palm open as if inviting Jungkook to take it.

Jungkook swallows hard, frozen for a moment. There’s something about the gesture, simple as it is, that makes his throat tighten. It makes him feel safe. Because Namjoon is here, and just being near him is enough to steady the chaos in Jungkook’s chest.

It’s ridiculous, really. He’s not in any real danger, they’re just practicing, but the alpha’s presence somehow melts the tension from his muscles. He knows he's safe with him.

Slowly, hesitantly, he lifts his hand. Namjoon takes it without a word, pulling him up with a firm, steadying grip. His hands are warm and gentle, even as they hold him upright.

Jungkook’s heart pounds, louder than it has any right to, echoing in his ears.

Once he’s on his feet, Jungkook brushes at his pants, trying to flick off the grass clinging to the fabric. But it’s useless, he can’t ignore the lingering heat burning his cheeks. His heartbeat won't settle either, racing not just from the exertion, but from the awareness that Namjoon has been watching him. Probably for longer than he’d realized.

Had he seen everything? Had he watched him struggle under Kyungmin’s hold, powerless to escape?

Jungkook chews his lower lip and chances a glance at the alpha beside him. Namjoon doesn’t say anything at first. He simply watches him with that calm, unreadable expression, one hand resting loosely at his side.

Then he reaches forward, slow and deliberate, and plucks a long blade of grass from Jungkook’s hair. His fingers brush lightly against his temple and his lips tilt into the smallest of smiles.

“You did good,” Namjoon says quietly.

Jungkook blinks. “But I couldn’t even get out.”

The alpha shrugs, the motion easy. “That’s not the point. It was a good learning moment. You tried. You didn’t panic. And you kept your head. That’s more important than winning.”

Jungkook lowers his gaze, but the words settle something in him. He had tried. And even though he’d lost, he hadn’t felt useless. Not completely.

Still, there’s something strange about Namjoon. It’s in the way he’s holding himself, like his body is caught between rest and tension. His voice is soft, but there’s something just underneath it, something restrained.

“Is…” Jungkook hesitates. “Is something wrong?”

Namjoon is quiet for a moment, gaze shifting past Jungkook as if weighing the question against something heavier.

Then, slowly, he exhales through his nose. “No,” he says, voice even. “Not wrong. Just…” He looks back at Jungkook, the corners of his mouth pulling into a complicated smile. “It’s not easy to explain.”

Jungkook tilts his head, curious. 

Namjoon hesitates. Then finally, he speaks, tone low and steady. “It’s just… seeing you like that. Pinned down. Struggling. Even though I knew it was just training, just sparring, it didn’t sit right. My wolf didn't like it.”

Jungkook blinks. “Your… wolf?”

The alpha nods. “Sometimes, there’s a difference between what the mind understands and what your instincts reacts to. I knew it was part of your training. I knew Kyungmin wasn’t hurting you. But my wolf didn’t like it. Didn’t want to watch you like that.”

He glances down, almost sheepish now, but not embarrassed, more like someone who’s trying to be honest about something, even if it doesn’t make logical sense.

“It’s stupid, really,” Namjoon mutters, fingers flexing at his side. “But wolves are instinctual creatures. We don’t always react rationally. Especially with people we care about.”

The words hang heavy in the air, the unspoken weight settling between them.

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat. He looks up at Namjoon, at the quiet truth in his eyes, at the strength in his posture, the way his shoulders are drawn tight with restraint, as though he’s keeping something barely in check.

Jungkook swallows hard, unsure what to say to that. His heart feels strange in his chest, warm, nervous, fluttering like wings against his ribs.

“But I was fine?” he says softly, almost to himself.

Namjoon smiles again, faint but real. “I know. Like I said, it’s complicated. Wolves don’t like having to sit still while someone important is hurt, that’s all.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen just slightly.

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” Namjoon says simply. “My wolf just really wanted to react. I was trying to keep him in check. It seems he has a soft spot for you.”

Jungkook doesn’t know how to process that. Doesn’t know what to do with the slow flush blooming under his skin, or the way his stomach knots, tight, warm, and nervous. So he doesn’t say anything at all. He just stands there, letting the silence speak for him. Letting Namjoon’s words echo in his mind, again and again.

The alpha stays quiet for a long moment after his confession, gaze resting on Jungkook. The tension in his shoulders seems to ease, just slightly, as if saying the words had lifted a weight he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying.

Then, his voice breaks the quiet.

“The hunters and Yoongi will need to leave for patrol duty soon,” he says, his tone shifting, still warm, but with a note of finality. “But before that, I want you to see one last match.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “Another spar?”

Namjoon nods once. “A final example. So you have as many reference points as possible, different fighting styles, different approaches. You’ve seen Kyungmin, Eunha, Sejong… I want you to see Yoongi and me.”

Jungkook’s lips part, a quiet oh catching in his throat.

Namjoon and Yoongi.

He doesn’t have much time to process the weight of that before Namjoon’s hand is wrapping gently around his.

Jungkook startles a little, just at the suddenness of the contact, but the warmth that blooms from the touch is almost overwhelming. Namjoon’s palm is big and solid, his skin rough in some places, calloused from years of training, but his grip is nothing short of tender. 

His thumb brushes lightly along the back of his hand and Jungkook can’t help but wonder if Namjoon even realizes he’s doing it.

The sensation makes his stomach flutter.

His heart skips and stumbles, a quiet gasp caught somewhere in his chest as the alpha leads him back toward the center of the training clearing. The sun is a little higher now, casting golden streaks through the trees. The sounds of the forest hum quietly around them, birds flitting in the branches, wind rustling through leaves, distant murmurs of the other hunters resetting weapons and gear.

Namjoon doesn’t let go of his hand until they reach the middle. When he does, Jungkook almost misses the warmth of it instantly. The alpha turns to address the others, voice carrying easily over the field.

“Everyone, gather around. We’ll do one last demonstration before patrol.”

Heads turn. Mingyu, still stretching his shoulder from his earlier spar, perks up first. Then the others quickly follow, forming a loose semicircle near the edge of the clearing. Excitement shimmers in the air, immediate and electric.

Yugyeom is the first to speak, nudging Mingyu beside him with a wide grin. “Ohhh, this is rare. Lucky day, huh?”

Mingyu laughs. “You think he’ll let it go full power this time?”

Dokyeom, standing a little behind them, folds his arms with a thoughtful look. “I’ve only seen it once. It was fascinating.” His voice is full of quiet reverence. “They don’t spar like this often.”

Jungkook looks between them, blinking. “Why not?”

“Because,” Mingyu grins, “they’re not just any fighters. They’re them. They're the best fighters of the pack and they know eachother too well.” He gestures toward the two alphas now standing apart from the group, Namjoon already rolling his shoulders, Yoongi stretching lazily like he has all the time in the world.

“Watching them fight is like watching art. It’s intense. Calculated. Their dynamic is… something else. Makes you realise how much you still have to learn.”

“It's so rare too,” Yugyeom adds. “They don’t do it often unless they’re demonstrating or blowing off serious steam.”

Dokyeom nods solemnly. “They know each other’s fighting patterns too well. Makes for a unique match.”

Jungkook’s gaze flickers back toward the two alphas, heart thudding quietly. Namjoon is speaking again, explaining that this is to give Jungkook a broader understanding of techniques, body language, movement.

“You’ve seen how everyone else fights,” he says, glancing briefly toward Jungkook. “But you should know how the two of us move, too. Because if you ever find yourself in danger, odds are it’ll be one of us coming for you first.”

Jungkook swallows hard.

Yoongi steps forward with a slow smirk curling at the edge of his lips. He pulls his hair back into a loose tie and cracks his knuckles one by one, casual and unbothered.

“You ready, Joon?” he drawls.

Namjoon gives a nod, his expression shifting into something more focused. “Always.”

They take their positions. Silence falls over the field, thick and expectant.

And Jungkook finds himself holding his breath.

Neither Namjoon nor Yoongi says a word.

They don’t bow, don’t signal the start, don’t even make eye contact with the crowd gathered around the edge of the field. They simply move as though the silence between them holds more weight than words ever could.

To Jungkook, it feels like something ancient is unraveling in front of him.

Namjoon takes one slow step forward, and Yoongi shifts to mirror him. A subtle tilt of Yoongi’s head, a shift in Namjoon’s stance, the faintest flicker of tension in their shoulders, and then they spring into motion with a speed so sudden, so precise, it nearly knocks the breath from Jungkook’s lungs.

It’s wordless. Seamless. As if they’ve done this a thousand times before.

And maybe they have.

Not just sparred, but studied each other, learned the shape of each other’s movements, memorized each tell, each habit, each rhythm. Maybe they don’t need to speak because their bodies are already having the conversation.

Or maybe, Jungkook thinks with a chill running down his spine, they’re using the mind link. Maybe they’re already a step ahead of everyone, communicating on a level he can’t even begin to reach.

But none of those thoughts prepare him for this.

Because the moment their bodies collide, everything changes.

What had first been quiet anticipation explodes into movement so fast, so sharp, Jungkook’s eyes struggle to keep up. Namjoon moves with grounded power, each strike measured, brutal, exact. Yoongi counters with a deadly kind of grace, light on his feet but no less dangerous. He twists away from a punch at the last second, only to land a blow of his own with a speed that makes the air crack.

It’s not like the earlier matches.

No, those were practice. This is something else entirely. This is what it means to fight at the top. Jungkook feels it in his bones, how serious it is, how high the stakes feel even if there aren’t any. The way they move, there’s no hesitance. No pulling punches. No mercy.

Namjoon knows exactly how hard he can go because he knows Yoongi can take it. And Yoongi doesn’t hold back because he knows Namjoon won’t falter.

Their fists collide with blunt force. Feet strike the ground, bodies twist, shift, recoil. Yoongi ducks a punch that would’ve knocked someone else flat, spins low and aims for Namjoon’s ribs but the alpha sidesteps at the last second, catching his wrist and flipping him in a fluid, brutal arc.

Yoongi lands hard, breath knocked out of him, but he’s already rolling, already back on his feet.

And the look in their eyes,

Jungkook swallows hard.

It's Electric.

They’re fighting like the world is on fire around them, like they’ve waited for this all day, all week, like there’s something burning beneath their skin that only this kind of challenge can soothe.

Jungkook’s heart pounds harder the longer he watches. Because if this is the level they fight at. If this is what it means to be one of the pack’s strongest...

Then what could he do, really?

Nothing.

The thought hits him like a punch to the stomach.

He wouldn’t stand a chance. If someone came at him like that, fast, unrelenting, calculated, he’d be on the ground in seconds. He wouldn’t even have time to react.

And that scares him.

Because it’s not like he hasn’t known that already. But seeing it, watching it unfold in front of him, watching the gap between himself and them become something unbridgeable in real time, it’s something else entirely.

He folds his arms over his chest, trying to ground himself, trying not to let that sick, hopeless feeling curl too tightly around his ribs.

Still, he can’t look away.

Even with the fear buzzing in his blood, even with the realization that he has so far to go, it’s mesmerizing. The way Namjoon lunges low, sweeping Yoongi’s legs out only for Yoongi to catch himself with one hand and counter midair, how they strike, block, dodge like two halves of the same heartbeat.

He can’t believe he gets to see this.

And yet, even through the awe, even through the fear, there’s something else blooming inside him.

A spark.

Something small, and fragile, and determined.

The drive to improve. To impress Namjoon and Yoongi, yes, but also to prove something to himself. Most of all, he wants to be able to protect himself. At his current level, that’s impossible. If danger comes, his only option would be to run. He wants more than that. He wants to be able to fight without ever having to rely on escape.

The end of the match doesn’t come with a knockout.There’s no dramatic finish. No violent slam or shouted signal. It ends in a moment of stillness, intimate, quiet, and powerful in a way that steals the breath from Jungkook’s lungs.

One second, they’re still exchanging blows like fire meeting wind, the next, Namjoon catches both of Yoongi’s wrists mid-strike and twists them behind his back in a fluid, practiced motion that makes Yoongi still.

Just like that, it’s over.

Namjoon doesn’t force him down. Doesn’t snarl or gloat or make a show of it. He simply holds him there, chest to his back, breathing hard against the side of Yoongi’s neck.

And Yoongi, he doesn’t resist.

He breathes. His shoulders rise and fall, a faint tremble in them from exertion, but not from discomfort. His head tilts slightly, eyes fluttering closed for half a second, and he lets himself be held.

Jungkook doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath until the others around them begin to speak.

Yugyeom lets out a low whistle. “Holy hell, did you see that counter?”

“I swear Yoongi was this close to getting him,” Mingyu says, gesturing with two fingers. “But Namjoon read him like a damn book.”

“Gods,” Dokyeom breathes. “I forgot how good they are when they go all out.”

Excitement buzzes in the clearing now, a chorus of awed chatter spreading like ripples through a pond. The tension has broken, but Jungkook remains frozen.

Because he can’t look away.

Not from the sight of Namjoon still behind Yoongi, holding him gently but firmly. Not from the way their bodies seem to fall into a familiar rhythm now, both of them panting slightly, skin flushed from exertion but… peaceful somehow.

There’s a stillness to them now, a quiet kind of intimacy that Jungkook feels deep in his chest.

It’s not the aftermath of a fight.

It's like they’d needed this, needed each other. Needed the friction, the release, the push and pull to feel grounded again. Maybe they hadn’t just been sparring. Maybe they’d been communicating in the only way that could reach them in that moment.

And then Namjoon leans down.

It’s nothing grand or showy.

Just a soft, deliberate brush of his lips to Yoongi’s cheek.

A kiss.

Quick, gentle, and achingly tender.

Yoongi doesn’t move at first. He stays still, eyes lowered. Then a breath escapes him, quiet, almost like a laugh, and for the first time since the fight began, Jungkook sees something crack through the older shifter’s usual guarded expression.

A blush.

It’s faint, but it’s there. Spreading across his cheeks and down the tips of his ears. It makes him look younger somehow, softer. He glances away like he knows Namjoon saw it, like the contact short-circuited his ability to pretend he’s unaffected.

And Namjoon smiles.

Not the wide, charming grin he gives others. Not the soft, reassuring one Jungkook has started to see more and more.

This one is private.

A little crooked. A little smug too. 

Then Namjoon lets go.

Yoongi steps forward with easy balance, rolling his shoulders out, but there’s a new ease in the way he moves now, like something had been weighing on him, and now it’s gone. Jungkook swallows thickly. Because he feels like he’s just seen something important. Something not meant to be hidden or secret, but sacred all the same. Something you witness, not disturb.

Love.

Not the loud, heart-racing kind of romance, but the quiet, steady kind. The kind that grows from years spent together, built on familiarity and trust. Easy, effortless affection.

And for some reason it makes Jungkook’s chest ache in the most bittersweet way. Not with jealousy. Not even longing. Just the quiet realization that this, this closeness, this trust, this history, is what it looks like when two people truly see each other.

And for a moment, Jungkook thinks…

Maybe one day, someone will look at him like that too. But for now, he’s just grateful to have seen it. To have felt it. Even from the sidelines. Jungkook realizes he might have been staring for too long when Yoongi turns back toward the group.

His gaze sweeps across the clearing, brief, casual, as if he’s surveying the space. Then it lands on him, and suddenly the world narrows. Their eyes meet. Not guarded, not stern. Just… a look. Something quiet, something deliberate, and yet it hits Jungkook like a pulse he didn’t expect.

There’s a flicker in Yoongi’s expression, subtle, almost imperceptible, but Jungkook feels it anyway. It’s as if the alpha knows exactly what he just saw and maybe he wasn’t supposed to see it at all.

The weight of that awareness presses against him. His breath catches in his throat, shallow and uneven, and his fingers twitch at his sides, curling instinctively into the fabric of his coat. It’s a small, almost pathetic gesture, but he can’t stop himself.

Maybe that was disrespectful. They’re courting him, yes, but that doesn’t give him the right to barge into their private world like this. He shouldn't have let his gaze linger like that. Before he can make the moment worse, before he can betray the fluttering thoughts threatening to show on his face, he drops his gaze to the ground.

He knows better than to stare. He’s always known better.

It’s been drilled into him since he could walk, since he could speak, since he could understand the simplest rules of interacting with others.

Don’t stare, don’t make people uncomfortable.

Don’t look too long.

Don’t let your expression betray your thoughts.

Don’t-

Don’t.

The words coil around his mind like iron chains, and suddenly a cold prickle creeps down the back of his neck. His body stiffens, muscles taut and ready, as though anticipating punishment he can’t even see. The warmth of the sun on his skin, the softness of the grass beneath him, the distant chirping of birds, all of it vanishes as if swallowed by a shadow.

And just like that…

Yoongi is gone.

The clearing disappears. The gentle sway of the trees, the quiet rustle of leaves, the faint scent of wildflowers, it all collapses inward, leaving nothing but a hollow emptiness where the world used to be. Jungkook blinks, disoriented, heart hammering, and when he opens his eyes again, he’s somewhere else entirely.

He’s back there.

Back home.

Notes:

Hi lovelies!! 🥰

More of the training arc!! Because honestly, I love it so much personally 😭✨ Isn’t Kyungmin such a sweetheart?? Like… please marry me?? 💖 I haven’t really detailed his appearance because I want you all to imagine the characters however you like, but if I had to describe him… taller than Jungkook, with really light brown hair, cut pretty short. And for some reason, I see him with bicep tattoos ahah 😅💪 Like, come on Kyungmin, just one chance please??

I also cannot with Namjoon and Yoongi when they’re in teacher mode explaining things 😭 I love it so much, please come explain things to me too!!

And obviously, Jungkook is good at things right away even though he’s not a shifter. Well… he can’t really compare to any of them because he’s human and untrained, but honestly? I wouldn't have been able to do anything if I were him 😤 So yes, he’s good.

We also love a cute, instinct-driven jealousy moment 💖 We all know Namjoon is still annoyed at Kyungmin ever since the festival.

And Yoongi kissing Jungkook’s temple?? 😳💘 Like… stop it! Everyone knows Jungkook is yours, no need to go all out (but please, continue 😩). I also had to add this cute moment between Namjoon and Yoongi ahah 😭💞 You just know Yoongi was blushing hard… because honestly, I would too.

 

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Ok, first of all, I’m so sorry it took me so long to post this 😅🙏 I really don’t have a proper excuse. Sure, I’ve been busy with work, but it’s not like I haven’t had free time either.

Truth is, I’ve been struggling quite a lot with body image (like… every summer, let’s be real 😅). I won’t go into detail here because I know I’m not the only one struggling, and I don’t want to trigger anyone. But basically, when I feel bad about my body, I tend to get depressed, which then prevents me from doing things I enjoy, like updating this story 😔
I also struggle to write when I feel this way, and I don’t want to post a chapter I’m not satisfied with.

I swear, it’s like this every summer, hot weather, less clothes… as someone who’s not super comfortable in their body, it’s just the worst. Tends to mess with me pretty badly ahah 😅

Other than me yapping about my issues, I hope you’ve all been doing well over the past month (and a half?? oh god 😭). I hope you’re happy and healthy, that’s what matters most 💖

We’re done with the training arc ahah 🎉 I know it might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I just love it so much (and yes, that’s mostly on watching anime, Bleach mainly 😎).

I hope you’ve enjoyed this chapter! I’ll try to post the next one as soon as I can. I’ll be gone for work for about a week and a half, so I plan on updating then. Don’t come for me if I don’t ahah 😅

Until then, take care, everyone! 💕✨