jeonbunnie
jeonbunnie
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[29/547] — until we meet again, jungkook ♡
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ok im thinking about opening my requests back up for the new year. i mightttttttttt idk!’
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hate you
pairing: reader x jeon jeongguk
summary: This time, the break up breaks Jeongguk
genre: angst
content/warnings: ex-boyfriend!jeongguk; established relationship;break up!au; drinking; suggestive thoughts
Soundtrack: hate you— by Jeongguk
a/n:hi hi! long time no see. thought i’d break into the new year with a lol drabble based on beloved lol drabble i wrote last year. you don’t have to read the last posts to understand but you read them for context here and here.
word count: 1.2K
It's not the truth. It's not the cure. But hatin' you's the only way it doesn't hurt.
Jeongguk tipped his head back, letting the liquid gold slide down his throat. Chugging his beer was nothing, especially when he’d had so much practice lately. But when he slammed down his empty glass on the bar, there was no satisfaction or warmth blooming in his chest to erase that hollow feeling lingering inside him since last year.
Since you.
“Hey, slow down,” chided Namjoon beside him. “Haven’t you had enough?”
No. Jeongguk’s sure there’s not enough alcohol at this party to drown out the taste of your lips on his or the memory of what it felt like to hold you in his arms and feel your smile against his cheek. Not when he has a front-row seat to watch you do all those things with someone else.
But damn it all to hell. He’d rather die trying than sit here sober with the cold, hard reality of watching you move on with someone new.
Jeongguk doesn’t mean to be an ass, ignoring his best friend’s concerns (he’s sure they’re valid). It’s self-preservation, not noncompliance, that has him reaching back into the cooler to pull out another cold one.
“Jeongguk, I’m worried about you.”
Jeongguk laughed. “I’m fine,” he said. . . But his voice is low and bitter and sharp like poison.
Namjoon shook his head, “You’re not fine, Jeongguk. You’ve been self-destructing since you broke up with (Y/n).”
“Yeah, well, maybe this is my karma.”
Jeongguk used to think luck or fate brought the two of you together, having always run in the same friend groups and circles. But now, it seemed his luck had run out, or fate thought it’d be a cruel joke to keep him in your orbit even after you broke up.
No, this had to be some kind of punishment for running away from your love. In return, he was forced to watch your love story play out with someone else.
Literally. Jeongguk’s so fucking jealous; it’s all he can do not to stride across the room and rip you away from the stranger you’re currently entangled with. The sight is enough to make his blood boil, and he can’t help the tick in his jaw or keep the glare out of his eyes.
Jeongguk can’t stop staring at the fucker who has his tongue down your throat.
It should be his tongue down your throat. His hands on your ass, pulling you close and your grinder, your bodies impossibly close, and only hoping to get closer. Because you’re his.
Or at least you used to be.
The thought alone is enough to have Jeongguk flag down another drink. But before he could reach for another cold one, Namjoon blocked him off. “No. You’ve already had one too many.”
“So what? Who cares if I get a little fucked up?”
“I care. This isn’t you.”
Jeongguk couldn’t help the rueful smile that split across his lips. “Maybe it is me. I fucked it all up.”
That’s the worst part. That ugly feeling in his chest, the jealousy burning him up inside as he watched you love another. It was all his fault.
It made Jeongguk sick to see you laugh, eyes sparking at something this asshole said because he remembers when that look was reserved only for him. And now here you were, giving it to another. Jeongguk knew he had no right to feel this jealousy. Not when he’s the one who set you free. But still—It should be him taking you home tonight, stripping off your clothes, pounding into your tight little—
Fuck.
Just the thought of having you again had him hard. He couldn’t turn it off, the need for you. He couldn’t keep his hands off you even when he ended things. He replayed that last night in his head like a broken record, but he couldn’t rewind time like he did his memories.
“Jeongguk. . .are you crying?”
“No,” he said. And then, “Maybe.”
“We don’t have to be here. You wanna get fucked up? We can do that in any bar. It doesn’t have to be here.
“Why are you torturing yourself?”
“You’re a good friend, Joon. But I can’t. I can’t walk away.” Yeah, he knew it was ruining him, making him bitter, but if this was the only way he could be close to you, then so be it.
He can’t help it. That’s what he tells himself. He can’t help but watch you—crave you—even if you don’t so much as glance in his direction.
Or maybe he’s torturing himself because it’s what he deserves.
“I’m not gonna watch you destroy yourself over some girl.”
“She’s not just some girl.”
You were everything. You were golden. Or at least that’s what it felt like, loving you.
You were the heat of summer. The only warmth on a cold winter day. You were the golden light of the first sunrise and the radiant glow of the sun setting low. You were the only bright spot in this cold, dark world.
You were the fucking sun.
And without you, Jeongguk might as well be dead inside.
Jeongguk wasn’t blind (but god, did he wish he was right now). He knew it was over. It was clear as day you’d moved on—and worse—that you’re happy with someone new, someone that’s not him. He starts towards you, ready to tell you as much, get on his knees, beg your forgiveness again, and plead for your safe return into his arms when the world tilts and his vision blurs.
It’s Joon who helped him stay upright. Joon, who took the beer can from his hands and slung an arm around his shoulder, guided him through the crowd.
“You’re so wasted up right now. I’m taking you home.”
Joon, who drove him back to his apartment and led him to the bed.
It felt like seconds, or maybe it’s been hours; Jeongguk couldn’t tell. He’s too fucked up to be sure of the footsteps he takes passing between doors. He only knew where he was when his face planted into the comforter, and the laundry scent told him he was home.
Because it’s your scent. Or rather, the smell of your laundry detergent. It was the only thing you left behind when you moved out, and now Jeongguk bought it for himself, clinging to the only piece of you he could have. He could almost pretend you were right there with him if he got under the sheets and closed his eyes.
Jeongguk’s the one who broke it off, but he can’t even remember the reason why now. It was stupid, thinking your relationship was too comfortable, too boring. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but it was good, wasn’t it? Why did he ever want to explore something else? But in the short months you were apart, all he discovered was that for him, there was no one else.
Jeongguk wished he could blame it on something, someone, anything else. It’d be easy to blame it on you, but you were blameless. He almost wished that you lied, that the betrayal he felt blooming had started when you were still together so that this anger inside him could be directed elsewhere.
It’d be so much easier to paint you as the villain, but that’s not who you are in his story. You’re the one who got away.
It’d be so much easier for Jeongguk to hate you—not love you.
But he can’t. So, instead, he just hates himself.
For being weak and losing you.
For falling in love too late.
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I need jungkook to understand that everything goes the same way, I can’t live without him 😭
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