Strong Pheromones [9] Iron and ash
Ω — pairing: Jungkook x reader
Ω — genre: aboverse!au, smut, dom!jk x sub!reader, alpha!jungkook, female reader, fluff, spy!reader, CEO! Jungkook, strangers to enemies, enemies to enemies, enemies to lovers
Ω — words: 2.3k
Ω — rating: sfw-ish
Ω — warnings: mild language, blood, injury, child abuse, physical and emotional trauma
Ω — notes: It's my birthdayyyy
Wow how old am I…. (not a question, just a fact heh). One chapter because I'm supposed to have something for this day :3
You Jung siblings have been working as spies for as long as you could remember. All was going well, until on your 100th mission, you accidentally encounter the path of the strongest alpha you ever met, Jeon Jungkook.
| Teaser | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | ...
Jungkook had always wanted a family.
From the moment he was born, a lady had been assigned to him, tending to his tantrums and caring for him. He never saw his father, even less his mother. The only companions he had was his nanny, the only being who cared for him more than his parents or anyone ever did, and the pink rabbit plushie he always brought to bed.
Only as soon as Jungkook learned to walk at the early age of just one year old did his father begin to see potential in him. Jungkook was obedient and brighter than his peers, which his father saw as an advantage.
And so Jungkook's father began to train him. He locked him in a cell at two years old when his father ordered him to do something but he refused. Jungkook never refused his father's orders ever since. He needed to appease his father, make him proud.
His father, an Alpha of words and actions. The strong always wins, would he say when he sneered down at his son—his figure dominating the whole room, suffocating every being present, even a small kid like Jungkook who hasn't presented would feel his body shrinking in his mere presence.
The first time Jungkook cried was when his father burned Kookie—he was apparently too old to hold onto a doll. Jungkook cried and cried until his lungs burned and his vision began to swim. His father brought a cane and hit him so hard he fell on his knees.
"You will be an Alpha, Jungkook. Alphas don't hold such pathetic pussy toys." Jungkook watched in silence as his father spat on the doll, then stepped on the remnants of its ashes.
His father locked him after whipping his back until it bled, his young blood dirtying the floor and yet Jungkook held his tears. He never wanted to go back to the cell, that prison of a room where there was nothing and no one. It was dark and the floor was dirty.
That was the moment Jungkook learned not to expect anything from his father. And so, he couldn't cry anymore. He could only be stronger.His father looked pleased when Jungkook threw away the new doll the nanny wanted to give him. He stopped depending on those toys. He stopped depending on anyone, he could only depend on himself.
That day, he never saw sight of his nanny again.
At four, Jungkook finally saw his mother. He was locked for a week after he made the mistake of helping his classmate and his father got wind of it. Someone opened the door, Jungkook thought it was one of the servants, but he got sight of someone new.
A woman. She was familiar. Familiar in a way she resembled him, the same eyes, hair as black as his but longer. She was tall, with a cold gaze. If his father's presence was like fire—burning through his every bone—, her presence felt like ice cold on a snowy winter.
Jungkook shivered when her gaze narrowed at him.
They were both staring at each other, no words exchanged. Her eyes flicked to his appearance, before a frown of distaste made way on her face. She left not a minute after, heels clicking onto the expensive marble floor. The door was left ajar.
Later that day, the servants told him it was his mother. But Jungkook didn't feel joy. He felt nothing. She was more of a stranger than the servants at the house.
And her eyes. The eyes that looked like his, they were filled with such disgust toward him, as if she didn't want to see him. As if she regarded him as trash.
Jungkook didn't want to see her anymore. He preferred his father. At least he would look at him and care for him. Even if the care he showed was in the form of punishment for any wrong thing he did.
At five, Jungkook finally coped with the mechanism at home. Punish the servants, following his father's orders, never disagree on anything.
He was the perfect puppet.
But it felt like something was amiss. He couldn't help but crave something.
At seven, his father brought home someone new.
She looked like she was made of glass. Petite, fair skin, big eyes, long blonde hair. When he met her for the first time in the living room, she threw him off balance when she smiled.
The first one to smile at him genuinely.
For the first time in his life, Jungkook felt his chest warm.
She was different. Beautiful, kind, even his father would deliver her all kinds of jewelries on a silver platter. Only a pout from her and his father would attend to her every needs. Jungkook felt like she got everyone's attention.
But that was alright, Jungkook thought. It was alright, because she was different. Unlike the servants who would not look into his eyes, she was always looking at him while smiling.
She was willing to spend time with him, and Jungkook's chest finally lightened when he got company. That was the something amiss. Care.
He relished in the small interactions they got. The small hellos—albeit only those words—exchanged. She smelled nice, and her hands looked soft. She felt like home.
And still... home was deprived from him.
When he was seven, Jungkook went home to the sight of his father and the woman sat on the couch, a rare proud smile on his father's face while both of their hands were caressing the woman's belly. The woman caught his eyes, but turned as if he was air.
His father never looked at him like that.
Nobody ever looked at him like that.
Later that day when he didn't see anyone but a servant in the house, he heard the woman was pregnant.
Jungkook couldn't think. He stood up and winced when he felt the pain on his back, whipped again the day prior because he was late to school. He walked until he saw the woman sitting on the grass in the garden, book in hand. A smile immediately made way on his face when she stood up and walked up to him.
She shoved him so hard he fell on his back. And Jungkook watched as she stepped on his stomach. Hard.
Jungkook screamed in pain. His chest stung when he looked up to see a cold look on her face, unfamiliar. It was the first time she sported such an expression, especially towards him.
He was even more confused.
The woman snorted and applied more pressure on her foot, making Jungkook yelp. She clicked her tongue in annoyance.
"You're annoying. Why don't you die?" Her words seeped into his bones, making cold shivers go down his spine. His big round eyes stared up at her in hurt, making her grimace in disgust before stomping off to the house after kicking his stomach one last time.
Why did people look at him that way?
Was he really that ugly?
He got locked into the cell again.
Jungkook looked up from his kneeling position, hand clutching his stomach, as his father turned to walk away. The last thing he saw, was the woman walking step by step with his father—both of them sharing happy smiles on their faces, oblivious or pretending not to see Jungkook's inner turmoil.
Jungkook felt dread slowly easing up into his chest.
Then why was he still alive?
He doesn't want to live anymore.
That night, Jungkook felt unbearably hot and in pain.
It hurt so much. Make the pain stop.
He lurched toward the floor as if to throw up, but he could only choke on air. He hasn't eaten for days—there was nothing to throw up. Yet, his body didn't feel good. He felt like fire was running inside his stomach, burning and burning, seeping into his bones and putting his whole body on fire.
But it was oh so cold. He felt like his body was frozen, a stark contrast to inside while he was burning like hot molten lava. Jungkook clutched his stomach tightly, screaming and hurling in pain.
The walls resonated around him, his screams didn't seem to end, and the pain only intensified. He yelled for someone to help. But there was no one. He was sure he could be heard even from miles apart… yet only his wails were heard.
At the last moment when he thought he would die, he glared at the door, his eyes slowly burning in intensity and rage. The metallic taste of blood heavy on his tongue from biting his lips too hard.
He was suffering so much. They didn't care.
Why is it only him who was in pain?
Shouldn't the others be in pain too?
At that moment, a quiet resolution ignited in his eyes. Even with the burning pain in his body and his senses beginning to heighten, the muddy scent in the room mixed with lingering rain. He tightened the grip on his stomach, glaring at the door as if it caused his pain.
Oh, Jungkook wished they all died.
Said man didn't respond, only ever looking at the view outside the rusting bars of window—the sky beginning to darken, the wind howling as if it spilled dark secrets only he were privy to.
His eyes, always so devoid of any emotion, finally flicked toward his assistant. The latter was already looking at him, scent souring each passing seconds but still somewhat tamed underneath his composed stature.
"What do we do about her?"
A snarl echoed in the room even before the sentence was finished, accompanied by the rattling sounds of chains. Jungkook spared a stare at another familiar set of eyes on the floor, before blowing off the smoke he held in his chest.
Jimin gave a silent nod as Jungkook slowly walked away from where he stood, his steps echoing in the dark hallway. Soon, a scream filled the heavy silence, followed by a loud thud. The smell of blood engulfed his nostrils but that didn't affect him a bit.
"Oh, Jk!" The brown-haired man saluted him as Jungkook entered the room, smiling even as he put his feet down on the keyboard.
Jungkook stared at the giant screen as he stopped in the middle of the room, arms crossed. His jaw ticked once before another presence made way into the room. Jimin nodded with a small smile, hands on his hips.
"Any news?" At the serious tone of the beta, the man slipped off his carefree tone to also look at the screen, a small amused yet annoyed look on his face.
"Well…" He began, fiddling with his ring. "I couldn't find out, for the life of me."
That seemed to surprise the two, even Jungkook. The latter pushed his tongue on his cheek in mild irritation.
"Wait, what?" Jimin asked, dumbfounded. "Are you serious, Namjoon?"
Namjoon winced, although he didn't deny. He shrugged his shoulders, head tilted at the screen in hope it held the solution.
"He's notably good, even could be on par with me." He typed some words onto the keyboard, brows furrowed in concentration. "I could only find out he's a guy, around seventeen to thirty. He moves very swiftly, so it's not his first rodeo."
Jungkook grunted, puffing a breath out and finally speaking. "Bummer."
"Interesting." Namjoon corrected. "Though it doesn't mean I can't find out more. It just could take me a while. Haven't really found out more about the guy to know about his skills."
"How long is a while?" Jimin frowned at the information.
"Hmm." He pursed his lips, as if contemplating his words too. "Could be a few days, a few months…"
"We don't have a few months." Jungkook almost growled, his scent becoming sharper and slowly suffocating the room. Although, that didn't affect the two, already accustomed to it.
"Bogum has it up your ass?" Namjoon snorted before biting his lips, noting how Jungkook glared at him.
Jimin hid a smile behind a cough, before placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Doesn't matter, Namjoon's gonna find a solution. He always does."
"Let's hope so…" Namjoon mumbled to no one in particular, almost fascinated at the screen. "This is fun. I haven't had someone who could be on par with me in like… ever."
Jungkook left the place, his steps light and echoing in the hallway as Jimin stared at his retreating figure. When he was out of sight, he sighed as he took a seat on a chair nearby.
"Who is it, this time?" Namjoon asked nonchalantly, taking a bag of chips resting near the keyboard. He bristled when he took a sniff, before slowly placing it down where he found it while scrunching up his face.
"Another vulnerable one." Jimin replied with a sigh, crossing his arms. "Some Elena."
"The Mayor's daughter? Yamin Rhevan or something?"
"Precisely." Jimin nodded, before frowning. "Although… she's kinda different."
Namjoon made a questioning sound. Silence reigned inside the room, before he looked at Jimin in apprehension. The latter was lost in his thoughts for a moment, then he huffed and stood up.
"Find me more information about her. Personal ones."
Namjoon nodded as Jimin left the room, mind racing in possibilities and uncertainty.
She really was different.
For as long as I have been a spy, my pride never once abandoned me. My steps were calculated, eyes sharp, actions speaking louder than words. I earned my place in the agency through blood, sweat and tears. They all knew of me, all knew I didn't step down easily. I wasn't easily intimidated, nothing could shake up my resolution.
Yet here is one thing that is slowly shaking up all the walls I'd built. Threatening my job, my pride, my life… everything.
"What… is happening exactly?" My pupils shook as they tried to make sense of the scene in front of me.
Yoongi turned to me in surprise, too caught with what's happening that he didn't even sense my presence. I would have had my ego boosted by that normally, but not now. Not when almost everyone is pacing left and right, all sporting all kinds of worrying expressions.
But that wasn't what my attention was at, no.
I blinked once, twice. But still nothing changed.
Yoongi looked back at the giant screen in front of us, brows furrowed in worry. Dread filled my entire body, cold sweat beading on my forehead when he uttered the next words.
| Teaser | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | ...
