Accidentally His
C1: Transmigration Mid-Knot
I died choking on coffee.
Not heroically, not saving anyone, just me, Jeon Jungkook, twenty-eight years old, alone in my cubicle at 11 PM on a Wednesday, working overtime for the fifteenth time this month, and my body decides that this particular sip of lukewarm coffee is the hill it wants to die on.
The burn in my throat, the panic, the desperate gasping, my phone is across the desk and no one else is on this floor. I claw at my neck like that’s going to help, vision blurring, lungs screaming, and then...
Dark, overwhelming, 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚.
Cedar and something sharper, like expensive cologne mixed with raw pheromones that bypass every rational thought and sink claws directly into some primal part of my brain I didn’t even know existed.
My body goes liquid with want before I’m even fully conscious, responding to a command I shouldn’t understand but somehow 𝐝𝐨.
I’m face-down in sheets.. silk sheets, expensive silk sheets that definitely didn’t come from my depressing studio apartment.
Someone is behind me, 𝐢𝐧𝐬́𝐢𝐝𝐞̂ me, moving with deep, powerful thrûstś that make my borrowed body arch and keen.
A hand grips my hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, a low voice groans near my ear, breath hot against my neck.
？？？
"Fûck, still so tight."
Jeon Jungkook [O]
*𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐞. 𝐅𝐮̂𝐜𝐤.*
I try to move, try to process, but my body isn’t listening. My body is arching, pressing back, meeting every thrūst with desperate rolls of my hipŝ.
I’m making sounds, high, broken, 𝐧𝐞́𝐞́𝐝𝐲 sounds that can’t possibly be coming from me because I was a virĝin when I died and also I’m pretty sure I was into women and also...
Jeon Jungkook [O]
*𝐎𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐝.*
Something is happening, something is 𝐠𝐫𝐨̂𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 inside me, stretching me impossibly wiðer, the alpha behind me makes a guttural sound that goes straight to my côck and slams in deeper, and I feel it.. the swêll, the lock, the 𝐤𝐧𝐨̂𝐭 forming and catching inśide me.
I shouldn’t know what this is. But I do.
Memories that aren’t mine flood my consciousness like ice water. A different Jeon Jungkook, twenty-two years old, omega, youngest son of the failing Jeon family.
Wayward, reckless, heartbroken because his longtime crush Yeon Yugyeom just announced his engagement to someone else.
This Jungkook got blackout drunk last night at Eclipse Bãr and decided the best way to handle rejection was to sedûce the hottest alpha he could find.
He succeeded spectacularly.
And now I’m here, in his body, getting knôtted by a complete stranger.
This is fine, everything is fine.
The knôt pulses, swêlling another impossible inch, and I hear myself 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐧, a high, desperate omega sound that would humiliate me if I had any brain cells left that weren’t drowning in sensation.
The alpha groans against my neck, teeth scraping over the bonding gland there and the sharp edge of danger sends electricity crackling down my spine straight to where we’re locked together.
Jeon Jungkook [O]
*oh god, the bonding gland, 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭...*
？？？
"That’s it,"
he murmurs, voice like dark honey and broken glass.
？？？
"Take my knôt like a good omega."
My body 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 around him in response, and he cûrses, hips grinding in shallow thrûsts that shouldn’t be possible with how dêêp he is but somehow make everything worse. Or better, I can’t tell anymore.
I’m stuck. Literally locked to this person, knôtted so full I can barely breathe, for the next.. I search the borrowed memories desperately.. fifteen to twenty minutes.
I should be panicking, I 𝐚𝐦 panicking, but also my body is singing with endorphins and bone-deep satisfaction, and I’m pretty sure I came at least twice already, which seems excessive for a virģin who died choking on coffee approximately ten minutes ago.
Is hell just an ABO world where I’m an omega who makes catastrophic life choices?
The alpha shifts slightly and the knôt drags against something inðide me that makes me see stars.
My cõck twitches against the silk sheets, somehow still interested despite everything.
The voice is deep, cultured, with an edge of dark amusement that suggests this man knows 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 what kind of situation we’re in and finds it entertaining.
He’s still inside me, still knotted, and he wants 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐰𝐨?
My voice comes out hoarse, wrecked, I don’t recognize it.
？？？
"Your heat suppressants are clearly failing."
His hand slides from my hip to my belly, possessive and warm.
？？？
"We have time before the knot goes down. And you were very... 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 last night about wanting more."
Original Jungkook, what the fûck did you do?
I don’t have time to formulate an answer because his other hand slides around to grip my côck, still sênsitive, still half-haŕd despite everything, and strõkes firmly from ròót to tîp.
My borrowed body responds instantly and desperately, arching back into the knòt, pressing forward into his fist, chasing pleaŝure I’ve never experienced and somehow can’t live without.
Jeon Jungkook [O]
"Please..."
The word rips out of me before I can stop it.
His thumb circles the head of my côck, smearing precöme.
？？？
"Use your words, omega."
Jeon Jungkook [O]
"I can’t...I need..."
My hips rőck helplessly, caught between his hand and his knơt, grinding against both.
Sliĉk is leaking out around where we’re jôined, I can feel it, hot and slippery and mortifying, and his answering gròan suggests he can feel it too.
His teeth find my ear, biting down just hard enough to make me gasp.
？？？
"You’re going to cûm on my kńot like a good omega, and then we’re doing this again."
It’s not a question, it’s a command.
And my body.. this traitorous, eager omega body, 𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐬.
The ôrgaŝm hits me like a freight train. I cry out, cŏck pulsing in his grip, inner muscles clenching rhythmically around his kńot.
The alpha cúrses viciously and grinds deeper, the knót somehow swelling even more as he cómes again, hot and endless, filling me until I’m sure I’ll burst.
I collapse forward into the sheets, boneless and shaking.
The alpha follows me down, blanketing my back with his larger body, still locked dēēp inŝide me, his hand releases my spent cóck and splays possessively across my belly.
？？？
"Good,"
he murmurs against my neck, voice satisfied and dark.
Right. Omega body, heat cycle, this is what omegas do.
I’m going to need so much therapy.
？？？
"That’s what I thought,"
he says, like he can read my mind.
And just like that, round two begins.
Author 💜
Happy 13th Anniversary of BTS 💜
Author 💜
13 years of BTS 💜
C2: The Alpha's Face
I lose track of time after that.
The knôt, the heat, the overwhelming sensation of being taken over and over by someone whose face I still haven’t seen.
My borrowed body knows what to do even if my mind is screaming, arching and accepting and 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 in ways that make me want to die all over again.
At some point he flips me onto my back, finally pulls out when the knot deflates enough, and I get a glimpse of his coĉk.. thiĉk and flushed, still hard, glistening with sličk and côme, before he’s sprćadiñg my legs widĉr and sliding back inside with one brutal thrûst.
？？？
"Look at you,"
he says, voice ragged.
？？？
"Taking me so well, like you were made for this."
I can’t respond, I can barely think, all I can do is grip his shoulders and hold on as he fućks into me with deep, measured strokes that hit something insîde me that makes my vision white out.
There might be a round three. Or four.
Everything blurs together into sensation.. his mouth on my neck, his hands on my hips, my thighs, my cočk.
The filthy wet sounds of him fuĉking into my sliĉk-soaked body, his voice in my ear, sometimes praising, sometimes commanding, sometimes just gròaning my name like a curse.
At some point I’m sobbing from overstimulation, from pleasure so intense it borders on pain, from the sheer overwhelming 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 of being in a body that wants this so desperately when my mind is still reeling.
？？？
"Shh,"
he murmurs, surprisingly gentle, his thumb wipes at my tears.
？？？
"One more, give me one more and then you can rest."
I shake my head frantically. I can’t. I’ll die.
His hand wraps around my cőck again.. I’m hârd 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, how is that possible.. and strokes in time with his thruşts.
？？？
"Cūm for me, omega, cúm on my côck."
The command in his voice does something to me, something primal and inescapable.
I còme with a broken cry, back arching off the bed, clênchiñg so tiĝht aröund him that he curses and follows me over the edge, his knoʻt swells one final time, locking us together as he fills mê again.
I collapse face-first into the sheets when he finally releases me and pulls out.
I can’t move, can’t think, my body is trembling, oversensitive, thoroughly 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝. There’s cûm leaking oút of me, trailing down my thiĝhs, and I should be horrified but I’m too exhausted to care.
Footsteps. The sound of water running in what must be a bathroom, then nothing.
I should run, get up and get out of here before this gets any worse.
But I can’t make my limbs cooperate, my legs feel like jelly, my entire body feels like it’s been taken apart and put back together wrong.
A warm, wet cloth touches my thigh and I flinch.
？？？
"Easy,"
the alpha says, voice softer than before.
？？？
"Just cleaning you up."
He’s gentle, surprisingly so, the cloth moves carefully over my thighs, between my legs, wiping away the evidence of what we just did. When he’s finished, the cloth disappears and I hear him moving around the room.
The voice is closer now, clearer. That same deep, commanding tone that made my body want to obey without question.
？？？
"I said turn over, omega."
Something in the command goes straight through me, some omega instinct I don’t understand but can’t resist. My body rolls onto my back before my brain catches up.
He’s devastatingly handsome in a way that feels dangerous. Sharp features that look carved from marble, black hair falling across his forehead, mussed from fûcking me senseless.
High cheekbones, a jaw that could cut glass, the kind of face that belongs on magazine covers, not buried between some random omega’s thighs in a hotel room.
There’s a bite mark on his chest. Did I do that?
But it’s his eyes that stop my heart.
But it’s his eyes that stop my heart.
𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲. Cold gray, like a winter storm, like polished steel, they look down at me with an intensity that makes something in my chest clench tight.
But, not kind, 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, like I’m a business acquisition he’s deciding whether to liquidate or keep.
His gaze drags down my body, wrecked, covered in marks, thighs still trembling, and his lips curve into something too sharp to be a smile.
Kim Taehyung [A]
"You’re even prettier when you’re not crying."
He tilts his head slightly, studying me like I’m a puzzle he’s solving.
Kim Taehyung [A]
"Round three?"
He asks, and there’s dark amusement in his voice now, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
This impossibly handsome stranger who just spent the last however-long knotting me into oblivion and apparently isn’t done.
My brain finally catches up to my situation.
I’m naked in a stranger’s bed, in a body that isn’t mine, in a world that runs on ABO dynamics where I’m an omega and he’s an alpha and we just...
And he’s asking if I want to go again like we’re discussing another round of drinks.
My voice is still hoarse and wrecked.
Jeon Jungkook [O]
"I need to go."
That’s it. No question, no protest, just that single raised eyebrow like my answer is mildly interesting but ultimately irrelevant.
Then he leans back, giving me space.
Kim Taehyung [A]
"Go ahead."
Bad idea. 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 idea. My legs are jelly, and I stumble immediately, barely catching myself on the nightstand, pain lances through my thighs, my hips, my aŝŝ.. the sweet ache of being thoroughly fúcked.. and I bite down on a whimper.
He just watches with those hazel eyes, head tilted, like he’s cataloging exactly how broken I am.
I spot my clothes scattered across the floor and lunge for them, my hands are shaking so badly I can barely pull my pants on, the fabric hurts against my oversensitized skin, my shirt is wrinkled and smells like sêx. I don’t care.
The whole time, he watches.
When I’m finally dressed, barely, my shirt is buttoned wrong but I can’t make my hands work properly... I risk one more glance at him.
He’s still nakêd, lounging against the headboard like some kind of põrnógrâphic sculpture,
Completely comfortable in his skin. His cóck is softening against his thigh, still impressive even at rest, and I can see the shine of sliĉk on it.
Out of the room, through what looks like an expensive hotel corridor, past the elevator, down the stairs because I can’t wait, through the lobby where a few people turn to stare.
I must look insane, wrecked..and freshly fûcked.
I don’t stop running until I’m outside in the cool morning air.
Only then do I stop, bracing against a wall, trying to remember how to breathe.
What the hell just happened?
What the hell did Original Jungkook get me into?
And why does my body already miss the feeling of being full?
C3: The Jeon Family
The taxi ride home is a blur of neon lights and existential dread.
I’m sitting in the back seat, thighs aching, shirt buttoned wrong, smelling like sêx and expensive cologne that isn’t mine.
The driver keeps glancing at me in the rearview mirror like he knows 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 what I’ve been doing.
I press my forehead against the cool glass and try to process.
I died, I transmigrated, I woke up getting knotted by a stranger, I just spent hours... 𝐠𝐨𝐝, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬?... being fûcked senseless in a luxury hotel room by an alpha whose name I don’t even know.
And now I’m going... home?
I search the borrowed memories for an address, directions, anything useful.
They come in fragments, a house in the Jade Garden district, an old money neighborhood now fading at the edges, a three-story traditional home with a garden that Mother tends obsessively to maintain appearances.
The Jeon family residence.
The thought makes my stomach twist.
I have a family, parents, a sister, a whole life that isn’t mine but somehow is now.
Original Jungkook's memories are patchy, like a movie I’m watching through frosted glass.
I can see shapes and colors but the details are fuzzy, his childhood running through the garden, his parents’ disappointed faces at every family dinner.
His sister’s kindness, the family textile business that his grandfather built, that his father has been slowly losing ground to newer, more aggressive competitors.
The declining profits, the pressure to modernize, the need for capital and connections that this marriage alliance will provide.
His hopeless crush on Yeon Yugyeom, who just got engaged to someone else.
Which is why Original Jungkook got blackout drunk and seduced a stranger.
Which is why I’m currently sitting in a taxi at seven in the morning, thoroughly wrecked, with cûm still drying on my thighs.
Great life choices all around.
The taxi pulls up to a neighborhood that whispers "old money, quieter now."
Wide streets lined with mature trees, traditional houses behind walls, most well-maintained, a few showing their age.
The Jeon house is somewhere in the middle. Still impressive with its curved roof tiles and traditional architecture, but you can see where they’ve had to make choices.
The garden is smaller than it used to be, one section clearly sold off years ago, the gate needs a fresh coat of paint. Small things that wouldn’t matter to most people, but in a neighborhood like this, people notice.
I pay the driver with cash I find in my pocket (at least Original Jungkook had the sense to bring money) and stumble out onto the sidewalk.
I grab the taxi door for support, breathing hard, and the driver gives me a look that’s half judgment, half pity.
Jeon Jungkook [O]
"Fine,"
I grit out.
Jeon Jungkook [O]
"Just... long night."
He drives off, leaving me alone on the empty street.
I look up at the house. Three stories of traditional architecture, wooden shutters on the windows, a small balcony on the second floor, beautiful in a dignified way, like an old aristocracy that doesn’t need to prove anything anymore.
I push through the gate (it creaks slightly, could use some oil) and walk up the stone path through the garden. Dawn light filters through the maple trees, and I can smell jasmine and earth.
My body is 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠. Everything hurts in that deep, thorough way that suggests I’ve been used in ways my previous virgin body never imagined possible.
The knôt, God, the 𝐤𝐧𝐨̀𝐭.
I can still feel the phantom stretch of it locked inside me, that overwhelming fullness, my body clenches reflexively and I have to bite down on a whimper.
No, absolutely not, we are not thinking about that right now.
I make it to the front door and stand there, key in hand, paralyzed.
What if they know? What if one look at me and they can tell? What if omegas in this world have some kind of mark, some sign that says 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨̃𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝?
I unlock the door and step inside.
The house is exactly as the memories suggested. Traditional wooden floors, family portraits lining the walls, antique furniture that’s been passed down for generations.
Everything is clean and well-maintained, though I notice the runner on the stairs is getting worn, and there are lighter patches on the walls where paintings used to hang. Not desperate, just... carefully managed.
It’s quiet, maybe everyone’s still asleep...
I nearly jump out of my skin.
A woman appears from the direction of the kitchen, mid-forties but looks older from stress, wearing an expensive silk robe that’s probably five years out of style.
Her hair is perfectly done despite the early hour, appearance is everything for Jeon Sihwa.
The memories supply her name along with a lifetime of disappointment and desperately high expectations.
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"Where have you 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧?"
She crosses toward me and I instinctively step back.
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"Do you have any idea what time it is? We’ve been calling you all night!"
I have to clear my throat twice before words come out.
Jeon Jungkook [O]
"My phone died."
Her eyes narrow, taking in my appearance. The wrinkled clothes, the wrong buttons, the marks I can feel blooming on my neck.
I slap a hand over my throat but it’s too late, her expression shifts from fury to horror.
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"What did you 𝐝𝐨?"
Jeon Jungkook [O]
"Nothing, I just..."
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"Don’t lie to me!"
She grabs my arm, yanking me further into the house.
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"You smell like..."
She inhales sharply, face going pale.
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"Alpha pheromones, you reek of them."
Jeon Jungkook [O]
"It’s none of your business."
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"None of my..."
She looks like I’ve slapped her.
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"Your sister’s engagement party is in three days! 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬! The most important social event this family has had in years, and you’re out doing... 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬?"
She gestures at me like I’m a crime scene.
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"We have guests coming! Important guests! The engagement party is in three days!"
Her voice rises to a shrill pitch that probably carries through the whole house.
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"Three days, Jungkook! And you choose now to start... whatever this is? What if word gets out? What if you’ve gotten yourself involved with someone who causes problems? What if this ruins everything?"
She’s breathing hard, face flushed with anger and panic.
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"Do you understand what this marriage means? The partnership with the Kim Group, the connections, the capital infusion our business needs."
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"One scandal, one whisper of impropriety from this family right now, and they could walk away."
She gestures at me, at my wrecked appearance, the marks on my neck.
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"You smell like you rolled out of some alpha’s bed, what if someone sees you like this? What if rumors start before the party?"
She makes a disgusted sound.
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"Go shower, now, scrub yourself until you smell normal again, and stay out of trouble until after the engagement party. Can you manage that?"
My hands curl into fists.
Jeon Jungkook [O]
"I’m not... I didn’t..."
But what can I say? She’s right. I 𝐝𝐨 smell like sêx and alpha pheromones. I 𝐚𝐦 covered in marks.
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"Save it,"
she snaps.
Jeon Sihwa[O]
"Just go shower, now."
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![Jeon Jungkook [O]](https://up-pic.mangatoon.mobi/contribute/fiction/12795932/avatar/49344871/17796892402.jpeg-s200webp?sign=6d0e79771ae5f5c516d3365359c0f43f&t=6a405128)
![Kim Taehyung [A]](https://up-pic.mangatoon.mobi/contribute/fiction/12795932/avatar/49344871/17814547902.png-s200webp?sign=1d362f57368a4b38476e9c485db70493&t=6a405128)
![Jeon Sihwa[O]](https://up-pic.mangatoon.mobi/contribute/fiction/12795932/avatar/49344871/17814084620.jpeg-s200webp?sign=aaa9b79ddc0de9576245291deee9b231&t=6a405128)
