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#jeon jungkook angst
dollfaceksj · 4 months
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still don’t know my name | jjk (m) pt. 2
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➥ banner by: @archivedkookie.
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➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader
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➥ SUMMARY: In which your annoying neighbor—that you can’t stand—turns out to be the person behind the online account you’ve been sexting. You still don’t know his name.
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➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ cybersex ⋆ enemies
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➥ CATEGORY: mini three-shot
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➥ WARNINGS: mentions of rough sex; slapping, spanking, hair pulling, gagging, name calling, humiliation, degradation, mean!jk, biker!jk😋, bratty!reader (like reallll bratty), nude exchanging, pornography, cybersex, reader is a bit dumb, actually very dumb, sexting, flirting, neighbor beef, tension, jk smokes, bit of angst (cus it wouldn’t be a fic of mine if it didn’t have angst ofc), mentions of raw sex (WRAP IT UP), minors DNI
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➥ WORDCOUNT: 11.8k
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a/n: whew. HI. can’t believe pt1 went off like that😭 thank u sm for enjoying this fic !
thanks to tumblr’s new 1k max blocks limit, i had to add the rest in a reblog. you’ll find a link to it at the bottom!
i call this a mini three-shot cause i just left out all the unimportant stuff. it just constantly skips to scenes where yn & jk bump into each other i really dgaf if it’s coincidental the entire time. i had and still have no intention of adding more lore than necessary😭 its just a pwp so i rlly dc abt the lack of story telling and whatnot i just wanted to get this horny idea out 🙄
make sure to check out eli’s version too! <3
enjoy 😘😘 — the next part (pt. 3) will be the final part!
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#2 — “gameboy”
You still don’t know his name.
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And that is how you spend the rest of your weeks.
Flirting.
Sexting.
Sending pictures of your naked body to a random stranger on the internet.
A random stranger whose name you do not know.
A random stranger that doesn’t know your name, either.
A random stranger that you’re somehow slightly possessive over.
A random stranger that’s somehow slightly possessive over you.
Constantly posting subtweets about each other only further proves that. Indirectly wanting to tell other people to back off without actually doing so.
It’s crazy how you two clicked almost immediately. Maybe men aren’t a lost cause after all.
The subtweets consist of more pornographic content, provoking each other and wording your wishes of what you would like to do to one another on your timelines.
Like posting captions that say, ‘wish you were here’ alongside a video of a woman getting fucked into a worn-out mattress.
Or ‘this could be us’ and it’s a video of 2 people kissing like it’s their last day on earth.
But then at times, you both just chat like best friends. Talk about the movies you like. Or the anime he recommends. Or the music he likes to listen to. He gets oddly defensive about Justin Bieber.
Even though you’re both aware that you’re two strangers, you can’t help but feel like you two have known each other for longer than just a few weeks.
Like the time you found out you live in the same timezone. Live in the same state. Grew up watching the same things on TV. Have heard of each other’s high schools.
But any details have been kept private so far—for safety reasons, of course.
It’s not like you don’t trust him. It’s not that. It’s just weird sharing personal info with someone you don’t know personally.
But there’s been some talks about potentially meeting each other.
You wonder what he’s like in real life.
You bet he’s as charming as he is through text. Probably average looking but you don’t mind in the slightest. Pretty men only break hearts.
You still don’t know what he looks like and vice versa.
You still don’t know his name and vice versa.
Somehow you both wordlessly agreed on revealing your faces when you meet for the first time. The only physical details you’ve noticed are some of his tattoos that you can barely make out thanks to the poor quality of his pictures. His toned body. Veins. Sweatpants.
Most of his pictures are taken in the dark. Seems like he’s always just holed up at home and you deduce he might be a homebody or a gamer—something like that.
You usually can’t stand gamers (cue your annoying fucking neighbor) however, you can’t help but fantasize about sucking this random online stranger off while he’s gaming or have him bend you over his gaming setup. Let him fuck you from behind over his keyboard. Hips pounding into your asscheeks as his gaming chair squeaks.
The buzzing of your phone next to your hip snaps you out of your sinful trance.
[Twitter]
@archurback4me sent you a message!
Your heart always jolts like it’s been resuscitated every single time he sends you a message and that hasn’t changed in the past few weeks. There are simply no words to describe how it feels when your phone buzzes and it’s the person you’re thinking about.
You sit straight up on your couch, crossing your legs criss-cross applesauce as you giddily unlock your phone.
@archurback4me | 11:12AM
Goodmorning brat
How’d you sleep
Sleep. How’d you sleep.
Right, that’s what you’d forgotten!
You | 11:13AM
wait omg
now i remember
i dreamed about you omggg
well you were kinda faceless but in my dream i knew it was you
@archurback4me | 11:13AM
Did you?
What kind of dream
You | 11:13AM
honestly it started out weird as fuck lol
i wish i could tell you something sexy but it really isn’t
you were in my old high school trying to buy something from the vending machine and it wouldn’t work
so you ended up punching it and then i stopped you
and told you to hit me instead like some kind of pick me girl lmaoooooo
@archurback4me | 11:14AM
LMAOOOO
Bruhhh
That is so random
Hitting you is crazy
You | 11:14AM
i know
i mean
watching you be so aggressive was pretty hot tho
woke up w drenched panties
@archurback4me | 11:15AM
That so?
You got proof or are you just talking out of your ass?
You | 11:15AM
ur trying to see my pussy at 11am? really? you’re horny at this hour?
@archurback4me | 11:16AM
11AM or 11PM
Idgaf
Let me see that pretty pussy
How are you supposed to decline when he says it like that?
You want to do everything he asks. Anything. Want him to want you. Need him to want you.
You drag your sweats down your legs, tossing them off your bed with a quick kick. The tip of your finger slips under the elastic of your panties, peeling it off your pussy and sliding it to the side.
Arm stretched out, you reach for a low angle of your glistening pussy. There’s a teeny tiny bit of stubble coming through, not that either of you really care.
You snap a quick photo. Check it. Aren’t satisfied. Snap a few more until you’re okay with the row of pictures you can choose from.
You | 11:19AM
(You sent a photo.)
@archurback4me | 11:21AM
For fucks sake
That wet from imagining me shaking up a vending machine, are you?
Shit
Can’t stop staring
You | 11:21AM
well yes.
i mean honestly
i don’t fantasize about you hitting me or anything like that
but being slapped across the face by you kind of sounds... hot
@archurback4me | 11:23AM
I’ve seen you tweet about it before
And you’ve rted several videos like that
So trust me
I know you’re into that
You | 11:23AM
hmm
yeah
i think it’s hot
but not like.. the way you’d slap someone for making fun of your mom
just... a quick slap to make me look at you when i’m disobeying
:)
@archurback4me | 11:23AM
Choking, spanking, slapping, hairpulling, spitting, gagging
You sure you can take all that?
You | 11:23AM
are you challenging me?
@archurback4me | 11:25AM
No
I know better than to challenge a brat over text
Just wanna make sure angel
You | 11:25AM
trust me i’ll be loud about it if i don’t like it
but only if you’re down with it
@archurback4me | 11:26AM
I am
Because your dirty mouth definitely deserves a few slaps whenever you start yapping like you do so well
You | 11:27AM
kiss my ass jay
you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid lmao
Oh, right. He’d told you to call him Jay about two weeks ago. You’ve been calling him that ever since.
@archurback4me | 11:30AM
Wish I could princess
Let me see that ass one more time
You | 11:30AM
🙄.
what do i get in return?
@archurback4me | 11:32AM
I’ll write your username on my pelvis and post a vid of me jacking off
Oh.
The thought of him, jacking off with your username written across his pelvis, free for everyone to see. The thought of claiming him. Having him all to yourself.
The tingle in your core is impossible to ignore. You want him.
You | 11:33AM
so all those ppl chatting you up in your dms know that you ultimately belong to me?
@archurback4me | 11:33AM
If that’d allow me to see your ass then 100%
You | 11:33AM
ur so thirsty
so many asses you can see online
why mine
@archurback4me | 11:34AM
Because yours is my favorite duh
You don’t have to of course
There’s a compromise, isn’t there?
His favorite?
Does he chat with other people as well? Do others send him pictures of their body too? Does he send them pictures too?
That alone brings a scowl to your face but you quickly realize that, yes, he can do what he wants.
You get up on your knees and stretch your arm out behind you. Phone upside down. Hit record. Spank your ass. Catch the watch it recoils on camera.
Repeat.
Make him never want anyone else again.
You | 11:35AM
���.
just shut up
(You sent a video.)
@archurback4me | 11:35AM
Holy shit I need you
I need you so bad
Ahhhh you’re driving me fucking crazy
You | 11:36AM
you could have me
@archurback4me | 11:36AM
I’m so serious I’ll come one of these weeks and I’m not even joking
You | 11:36AM
i wish you would
@archurback4me | 11:38AM
I will
Give me a date I’ll write it down
You | 11:38AM
you’re coming to stay for a few days, right?
i have plenty of room in my bed for you
@archurback4me | 11:39AM
Hmm
Was hoping you’d say that
One night with you would never be enough for me
You | 11:40AM
hehe
exactly 3 weeks from now
the entire week
what do you say?
@archurback4me | 11:42AM
Never noted something faster
I have a dog though
So I was thinking it’d be easier for you to come to me
You | 11:43AM
i don’t mind you bringing your dog
luv dogs
but don’t think i forgot about what i was gonna get in return for sending you my ass
@archurback4me | 11:44AM
Jeez
He doesn’t reply for quite some time. The typing bubble doesn’t pop up either.
But after several minutes a new tweet pops up on your feed.
He didn’t caption it. Just a video that starts with his abs. You watch as his fingers trail down his stomach and tug his underwear down, revealing his squiggly inked skin.
And there it is, ‘@bratgaIore’ written across his pelvis in black marker.
He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around his shaft, stroking his rock hard dick at a perfect pace. The sound has been turned off and you really wish it wasn’t but then again, you don’t want anyone else hearing him.
Want him sounding pretty for you. Just for you.
You’ve clearly been staring at the video for too long because you get a new message.
@archurback4me | 11:54AM
Happy?
You | 11:56AM
holy shit
you actually did it
@archurback4me | 11:57AM
Of course I did
I don’t play when it comes to that ass of yours
You | 11:58AM
hm
now im rlly horny
@archurback4me | 11:58AM
Aren’t you always
You | 11:58AM
thanks to you
i hate you
@archurback4me | 11:59AM
That’s fine
The feeling’s mutual anyway
Gonna enjoy the way you fall apart under me when I fuck you
Fuck you until you’re stupid
You | 12:03PM
a dream come true
:p
guess what
@archurback4me | 12:04PM
Hm?
You | 12:06PM
(You sent a photo.)
The photo is a picture of your soaking wet pussy with his username written on your pelvis in black marker, too.
@archurback4me | 12:08PM
What the fuck
You’re trying to fucking kill me angel
I need to insert my tongue immediately
You | 12:09PM
here come the harvard graduates
insert is crazy
@archurback4me | 12:10PM
You drive me crazy
Pussy got me acting all formal and shit LMAOO
Got me wanting to wear a bib and say Itadakimasu😋 when I dive in
Fuck
Want you on my face so fucking bad
Spank you while you ride my face
Don’t think I’ve ever seen something so pretty
Think my mind will change when I see your face though
You | 12:11PM
LMAOOOO not itadakimasu😭😭😭
hmm
you like it?
@archurback4me | 12:12PM
Are you insane
I keep going back to it
You should write my username when we meet so I can see it when I take your clothes off
Know that your pussy belongs to me
You | 12:12PM
if you do it too
@archurback4me | 12:13PM
Deal
You | 12:13PM
hehe
😋.
btw
@archurback4me | 12:14PM
Hm?
You | 12:14PM
are you clean
@archurback4me | 12:15PM
What?
You | 12:16PM
like
are you clean
for raw sex
@archurback4me | 12:16PM
Oh
Yeah I am
I’ll send you my results when I’m home
You | 12:16PM
you don’t have to do that i believe you
i’m clean too
where are you rn?
@archurback4me | 12:16PM
Just left to meet a friend
You | 12:17PM
oh
you’re not texting and driving right
@archurback4me | 12:18PM
Of course not, babe.
How am I supposed to meet my dumb girl when I’m dead?
I’m going by foot
Babe.
My dumb girl.
This is dangerous territory.
You | 12:19PM
hm
just like how i want to be the death of you as i tease you while ur in public
@archurback4me | 12:19PM
Don’t
I’m warning you
I don’t wanna meet my friends with a raging boner
I just got rid of one
You | 12:20PM
ur so easy lol
@archurback4me | 12:22PM
Just you wait you little brat
Gonna leave you so fucking sore when I’m done with you
No breaks
Fuck you the whole week long
You | 12:23PM
hmm
gonna fuck me like you hate me?
@archurback4me | 12:24PM
I do hate you
A lot
Dumb girl
Don’t think that’s gonna change when I see you in real life
Might get even more pissed off when I see your bratty mug actually
I just know your face is so fucking bratty
You | 12:25PM
you’d be obsessed with me
i’m really pretty
@archurback4me | 12:26PM
Lmao yeah I probably will be
I’m sure you are
Gonna defile your pretty face when I cum all over it you stupid brat
But my friend’s here
I’ll ttyl princess
You | 12:27PM
can’t wait
bye daddy
@archurback4me | 12:27PM
Hell nahhhhh
Don’t call me that
You | 12:30PM
ok then bye mr. fuck-you-everyday-of-the-week
@archurback4me | 12:30PM
And will
Night after night
You | 12:30PM
go already
byeeeee
@archurback4me | 12:32PM
Bye princess
You go about your day like you usually would and later that night, he ends up sending you his results anyway. You were already asleep by then, though.
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Want to keep reading? The full chapter is out on my Wattpad.
Click here to keep reading.
a/n: thanks to tumblr’s new max 1k blocks limit, i’ll have to figure out how i’m gonna post the full thing on here. (probably tomorrow or friday) either by combining paragraphs or add the continuation in a reblog or something. but its out on wattpad so i hope you’ll forgive me !!
thanks for reading <33
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Here’s the link to continuation (in a reblog).
— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡
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jaykaysthicthighs · 8 months
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Kiss Me Better | JJK
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excerpt | jungkook said some really mean things to you when you started coming home so late. when he realizes how horrible he was, he tried making it up to you.
genre | angst, fluff, hurt /comfort
pairing | jeon jungkook x fem!reader
warnings | strong language, unintentional manhandle, jk being a jerk in the beginning, reader puts him in his place, lots of crying, hating oneself
wc | 4k+
notes | i tried my best to make something emotional, and i'm hoping it turned out well :)
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It was around ten at night and you still weren't home. This has been going on for about a week now, and Jungkook is tired of it. He wanted answers as to why you were always late.
He was sitting in the living room with his legs bouncing, waiting for you to come home. He was anxious to thrust this issue onto you, but he felt like you were neglecting him; that maybe you might be cheating. Jungkook was never one to judge your faithfulness, but ever since you started coming home late every possible idea started popping up in his head. And when he tried talking to you about it, you would wave him off saying that you're tired.
Jungkook heard the familiar car beep. He got up instantly and trudged his way near the end of the entryway. He saw the doorknob twist open to reveal the fatigued woman he called "his". He watched you take off your shoes and place them on the shoe rack, throwing your work purse on the entryway table. It wasn't until you were steps away that you noticed your lover at the end of the hall.
Your body perked up at the sight of your boyfriend. You dragged your feet to Jungkook and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Hey, baby." But before Jungkook had time to greet you back, you were already sprawled out on the couch. Jungkook made a face of disdain to himself; how could you treat him like this. He felt hurt by your action. He took a minute to compose himself; he didn't want to confront you with rage coursing through his body.
Once he was calm, Jungkook made a beeline to you. He saw that your eyes were already closed; you looked very exhausted. He wanted to leave you alone, that he will have this conversation with you some other time, but he thought against it. Jungkook cleared his throat, making you open your eyes. You did a light stretch on the couch. "What is it, babe?" Jungkook took a shape inhale, "I want to talk to you."
You instantly sat up. In your four years of dating, Jungkook rarely says the words "I want to talk to you.", every time they get spoken, they would usually lead to arguments. Your attention was wide awake; you were getting nervous about what this conversation might lead to. "What is it, Jungkook?"
Jungkook clenched his jaw, tightening his facial muscles. With gritted teeth, Jungkook seethed, "I want to know why you've been coming home so late now?" You were shocked, to say the least. You knew that coming home so late would bring suspicion to your boyfriend, but you didn't think that he would be this angry.
"Umm... I..." You didn't know what to say to him. You wanted to tell him the reason, but you didn't want to ruin the surprise. Jungkook didn't like the fact that you were hesitating. You were always honest with him, never afraid to be blunt. "Why the hell are you hesitating, ____? You're fucking some other man, aren't you?" he yelled.
Your body jolted at his interrogation. His words were harsh, sending goosebumps through your body. You didn't like his assumption of you cheating. You stood up and questioned, "You think I'm cheating on you?" Your voice was laced with warning; warning that if he thought that way of you, you wouldn't be afraid to stand your ground.
One thing that Jungkook would never admit, is that every time you gave him this certain type of tone, he feels like being buried six feet under. Jungkook gulped down some spit that he didn't know was being harbored. "I don't know. You could be." You scoffed at his words, "Fuck you. I don't have time for this. I'm going to bed." You turned your body in the direction of the bedroom.
As you started walking, you heard Jungkook hysterically laughing. He growled, "Fuck me? No, fuck you, ____!" Before you halted your movement, Jungkook stomped his way to you and tightly latched his hand to your wrist, pulling you towards him. You yelped at the sudden action, pain taking hold of your arm. Jungkook immediately lets go. He was about to apologize, but you beat the gun.
You pushed him to the carpeted floor, holding your wrist to your heart. Tears started welling up. Never in a million years did you think Jungkook would say those things to you. The physical pain could not compare to the pain you were feeling emotionally. You cried out to him, "You wanna know why I've been coming home so late? You wanna know why I'm always so tired?" At this point, your tears were freely flowing. Jungkook was on the floor, not moving an inch, but he so badly wanted to wipe your tears away.
You bellowed, "It's not because I'm fucking some other man, Jungkook! It's because I took in overtime at work! I took in some extra hours to earn more money for our trip!" Jungkook was stunned at your confession. Shame taking its place in his heart. How could he accuse you of cheating? How could he say those hurtful things to you?
You softly added, "Do you remember two weeks ago, when we were talking about our parents? You had missed yours so badly because you hadn't seen them in months. You wanted to go visit them, but we didn't have the money." Jungkook started crying; he was starting to realize your reason. You faced the other way, not wanting to see Jungkook cry. You knew if you did, you would fall prey to him. He hurt you, and you didn't want to fall so easily.
Jungkook cried harder, and hearing him, so did you. You tried containing any sound leaving your mouth, coming out muffled. You sniffled, "I wanted to surprise you this Sunday. I was going to buy the tickets and book the hotel room tomorrow. I didn't want to tell you this way." Jungkook was biting his lips so hard when you were talking; he almost drew blood. When he felt your presence fading, he shot up and gently looped his arms around your torso.
He cried to you, tears falling on your shoulders, making your shirt damp. "Baby, I'm so-" You intervened, "Stop." You unhooked his arms apart. "Just stop, Jungkook. I'm tired." Jungkook shook his head vigorously. He wanted you to know how shameful he feels; apologize until you're tired of hearing it. "____, please. I'm so sorry."
You whipped your body around, facing him. You demanded, "Shut up, Jungkook! I said I'm tired, okay? We'll talk about this later." And after your ending sentence, you marched your way to the bedroom, not giving Jungkook a second to respond.
You plopped yourself on the shared bed, taking off your clothing, only leaving you in your underwear. You would've loved to have Jungkook wrap his arms around you while you went to sleep, but right now you just wanted to be alone. It only took a few minutes for your tears to start flowing again, and this time you didn't stop them. You let the tears, the darkness, and the warmth of the blanket lull you to sleep.
Jungkook on the other hand, was sitting on the couch pondering about his actions - his words. He hated himself for what he did. The way he talked to you, the way he gripped your wrist with so much force, the way he doubted your faithfulness; accused you of cheating. You are everything to him. He would move hell and heaven if you demanded it. You could say the vilest insult to him, throw your hardest punch and he'll still run back to you. He would do anything and everything just for you, but at the moment he didn't deserve you. You were the light of his life, but he knew that tonight he had dimmed you.
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You woke up with the biggest headache. You haven't felt like this in years, so emotionally drained. The last time was when you had officially cut off ties with your mother. She never really approved of Jungkook, always calling him a bad influence. She was the type of person to judge the exterior before knowing what was on the inside. Hating Jungkook is an understatement, she loathed him.
You love your mother, but all the things she said about Jungkook stirred you away from appreciating her presence. He didn't want you to cut communications with her, but it was not only for him but for your sanity. The longer you kept in contact, the more you'll start going crazy about her foolish assumptions about your boyfriend. It was hard cutting her off, but it was definitely needed.
You rolled off of the bed, not caring that you were basically nude. You stumbled your way to the door, wanting to go to the bathroom. When you opened the door, you found Jungkook laying right against the beige wall. His appearance was rugged. His hair sticking up from every angle, and the faint smell of beer, he was still wearing the same clothes from last night.
Your heart tingled at the feeling that Jungkook must have stayed out here for you, wanting to be close to you, but also giving you your space. But then the reoccurring memory from last night punched its way through your brain. You slammed the door, stirring Jungkook awake. For a split second, Jungkook thought lighting came striking down to their house. His body jumped from the sudden bang, hitting his head against the wall in the process. He rubbed the sore area, hoping the action would ease the pain.
He didn't know what happened. He looked around the area for anything that might have caused the loud sound. But then he heard shuffling on the other side of the door. Jungkook got up without a second thought and was about to knock. His fist hovered the wooden entrance. He wanted to knock, but he was scared. After everything that he had done, he was worried that you wouldn't want to see him again.
Moments go by until Jungkook finally knocked on the door. "Baby?" he softly said. "Baby, can I come in?" He waited for your response, but all that answered him was silence. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Jungkook has never felt this nervous. He took a deep breath, "I'm gonna come in, ____. Okay?" He tapped his fingers against his thigh a few times, trying to calm the bundle of nerves. With one more deep breath, Jungkook carefully opened the bedroom door.
In his line of sight, Jungkook saw you curled up in the bed, the blanket hugging your body for security. He saw the throw pillows along with your clothes scattered across the floor; the whole atmosphere was messy. You were always the clean one in the relationship, so the fact that you couldn't care for the unkempt room made Jungkook more nervous than he already was.
Jungkook tried navigating his way to you, but he still wound up stepping on your clothes. When he got to you, he sat on the edge of the bed next to you silently. None of you guys peeped a word; the air was tense. You wanted to speak to him first, to yell at him for his absurdity, but you're also stubborn. So, you waited for Jungkook to talk first. Jungkook knew how you were; he knew that you were itching to say something first, but you were headstrong on finishing last.
He took it in himself to speak first. "____, I want to tell you how incredibly sorry I am, and that I regret everything that I had said." He looked at your covered figure with much sorrow. He wanted to see your beautiful face, even if you were to give him the most angered look. "Baby, can you please look at me?" You meekly spoke, "No."
A few tears threatened to escape his eyes. Jungkook took a deep breath and brought out his hand to cup your face. He slowly turned your head to face him, and you made no retaliation to his actions. Your face showed no emotion, but Jungkook saw the pain swimming in your eyes. He hurt you deeply, and he hurt you hard. "Please, know how sorry I am."
You took his hand away from your face. You rolled your eyes; you were tired of hearing it. "I know how sorry you are, Jungkook. I can see from your body language, your facial expression. I can hear it in your voice, okay? I know... So, please stop saying it." He nodded his head, understanding what you were saying. "I'm sor-"
"Jungkook!" you warned. "If all you're going to do is say sorry, then leave me alone." You went back to your previous position, trying to ignore your boyfriend's presence. He definitely knows how to push your buttons. Jungkook didn't want to leave this situation alone like this; he wanted to make it better. So, he said the first thing that came to mind, "Tell me where I hurt you, and I'll kiss it better."
You jested his words, "Kiss it better? Seriously?" Jungkook couldn't see your face, but by the tone of your words, he knew that the idea was stupid. But stupid or not Jungkook wanted to make you feel better. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Yeah. It can be a start, right?" You took a minute to reel in the idea. It could maybe be a start.
You clicked your tongue and brought your wrist to his face. Without facing Jungkook, you demanded, "It didn't bruise, but you really hurt me here. So... kiss it." Jungkook gave a tiny smile; he was happy that you were open to his idea. He carefully grabbed your arm, making sure to not touch the area he has hurt you. Jungkook's soft touch sent small currents through your body. He brought your pained wrist to his lips and placed small but mellow kisses on them. Afterward, Jungkook rubbed the area with his thumb, hoping that it would soothe the pain.
He docile his voice, "Where else?" You were thinking of a place where he should kiss next, and during that time you positioned your body forward. Jungkook watched you readjust your body; you had looked so cute to him.
You looked at Jungkook with a stern expression, and said, "My ears, from hearing you talk shit to me." Jungkook invisibly flinched at your words, but a slight hint of grimace surfaced. He bent down to you and positioned his lips to your ear. He gave you a kiss, and the small smack of the contact rang. With his lips pressed against your ear, Jungkook quietly spoke, "Tell me more, baby. Where else are you hurt?" His breath shadowed your skin, leaving you dumb.
When you stayed quiet, Jungkook got a little concerned. He lifted his head up, his face inches away from yours. "Baby?" You saw the worriedness etched into his face, creating crease lines on his skin. He placed his forehead on yours and stared deeply into your eyes. He could still see that you were angry, but slowly he saw a bit of softness take place. You didn't want to admit that your boyfriend's idea was proving right, but his gentle kisses were so hard to ignore. It's like Jungkook has this magic spell where you could never say no.
You gulped down some spit, you didn't want to choke when you talked. "My eyes. You made them painstakingly teary." You had closed your eyes for Jungkook to kiss. He took a second to stare at them. Even with your eyes closed, you could still make out the redness around them. The more he looked, the more Jungkook hated himself for your pain. With each kiss of your eyelids, Jungkook had closed his, projecting his pain to himself.
When it was done, Jungkook remorsefully uttered, "____ - baby... I'm so sorry. Ev-" You interjected, "I have one more place that I want you to kiss better." Jungkook replied, "Of course. I'll kiss wherever you want." You slightly sat up; your upper back pressed against the headboard of your guy's bed. You choked, "Kiss my heart. Out of all the places you have hurt me, my heart hurts the most." You didn't want to sound choked, but you couldn't help it. "Please, kiss me better, Jungkook." you cried.
Jungkook's heart panged harshly at your pained confession. He started crying; his heart broke into a million pieces. The one place where he vowed to not hurt at the start of your guy's relationship, he did. You tried watching your boyfriend intensely, but your tears were blurring your vision.
Jungkook moved his hand to the blanket that was still covering you. It slid down and your breast was fully seen. Usually, Jungkook would be surprised at your nudity when he wasn't expecting it, but right now, all that Jungkook could see - could focus on was the area that your heart resided in. He looped one arm around your bare torso, gently pulling you towards him, and the other rested along your back.
He kissed your heart with so much tenderness. He cried while doing so, his tears falling on your bare skin. You couldn't stop the waterworks once his soft lips landed on you. Jungkook kept kissing you, hoping that each kiss took away the pain he had caused, but the more he did the more you cried. He had hurt you too much that even the kisses couldn't heal you.
Jungkook moved his head away from your chest and fully grabbed you. He hugged you tightly, just letting you cry your pain out to him. He didn't know what to say, all he could really do was comfort you. Jungkook placed one of his hands on your nape, while the other did long comforting strokes on your back. You heard Jungkook trying to shush you, not in a mean way, but to relax you, but it didn't work.
What felt like hours were only minutes, you had finally calmed down. You pulled away from Jungkook. You spotted a big wet mark on his shirt. You apologized profusely for making his shirt dirty. Jungkook only laughed; he didn't care that your snot and tears - possibly your saliva were on his shirt, hell, he wouldn't care if you even threw up on him. All that he cared about right now was how you were feeling.
You were about to wipe your face on your arm, but you didn't have a shirt on. "I'm sorry, I look horrible right now." Jungkook shook his head at your words. "You don't have to be sorry. You don't look horrible right now. To me, you look beautifully messy." You blushed at his compliment. "Yeah, but I still have snot and tears all over my face."
Jungkook sarcastically rolled his eyes. He jumped off of the bed and stood in front of you. He bundled his shirt up to his chest and carefully pulled you towards him. You were confused at first, but then you realized he was going to wipe your face with his shirt - like a mother. When he did, Jungkook shrugged, "It's already dirty, so, don't worry about it. Plus, nothing like a few more bodily fluids, right?" You felt like laughing at his rhetorical question, but all you could feel was the guilt for ruining your boyfriend's shirt.
Jungkook chucked his dirty shirt on the messy floor and climbed into bed with you. He hesitated on pulling you close to him; he didn't want to push any boundaries you might have set on him. "Is it okay if I hold you?" Instead of answering his question, you pulled him towards you. You buried your face in his chest. You wanted Jungkook to hold but he wasn't. You murmured against his skin, "Why aren't you holding me?"
"I didn't know if I was supposed to." You wrapped your arms around your boyfriend's build. "Well, I want you to hold me." And like so, Jungkook held you close. He buried his face in your hair, breathing in your intoxicating scent. If Jungkook were to die right now, he would die a happy man; being in your arms, breathing you in is all he could ever ask for.
Before speaking Jungkook licked his lips, "____, I want to tell - shit! Babe, ow!" You had kicked Jungkook to further stop his sentence. "Like I said before, if you're going to keep apologizing then please leave. Because honestly, babe, I'm really tired of hearing you say that." Jungkook chuckled at your annoyance. "I wasn't going to apologize if that makes you happy. I was going to say how regretful I am to accuse you of cheating. How regretful I am of gripping you hard on the wrist. Cursing and yelling at you. I regret everything that happened last night."
You held Jungkook tighter to you. In situations similar to this, Jungkook was always the one comforting you; you were the stubborn one in the relationship. It was kind of hard being on the opposite side. You tried your best of comforting Jungkook, but you couldn't really do it physically, that spectrum resides for Jungkook.
So, you did what you do best, you comforted him verbally. "I know I can't ask you to feel a certain way, but know this, Jungkook," You lifted your head up to him, and expressed, "Everything that happened last night could never erase my four years of love for you. What you did to me definitely hurt me, but you cannot shoulder all of this guilt. I also was at fault."
Jungkook pulled away slightly. He couldn't believe what he heard. He denied, "No! You did nothing wrong." You furrowed your brows. "But I did, Jungkook! If I hadn't kept this a secret... if I had just told you my reason for being out so long, we wouldn't be in this predicament. I should have told you, and for that, I'm sorry." Jungkook wanted to argue your statement, but the look on your face was pleading with him to forgive you.
Jungkook shimmied his way down to you, eyes meeting at the same level. He pushed some of your hair away from your face, tucking them behind your ear. Your beauty was something to treasure. Jungkook smiled, "You're so beautiful, baby. If you want me to forgive you, I need you to forgive me as well."
You lifted your pointer finger up when an idea came to mind. "One last request," Jungkook smirked, wondering what trick you have up your sleeve. You continued on, "Kiss me on the lips and I'll forgive you."
You didn't have to tell him twice. Jungkook smashed his lips on yours, taking you all in. He cupped your jaw in between his hands, holding you tightly. Your small moans drowning in your lover's mouth. Your wondering hands feel the toned muscles beneath your fingertips. Somewhere along the way, you climbed on top of Jungkook. The slight grinding you were doing on his lap made him jolt. He softly gripped your arms and pushed you away.
"Baby, I think we should stop, because if we continue this, I don't think I'll have the urge to control my craving." You jumped on his lap, taunting him. Jungkook wasn't having it, so, he switched your positions; you were laying underneath him, while he trapped you between his arms. "Didn't I say you should stop?" he growled.
All you did was grin like a kid who won a stuffed animal at a carnival. You wrapped your arms around Jungkook's - somewhat sweaty neck. God only knows how much you love this man. If a home was a person, he would be yours. You proclaimed, "I love you so much, Jungkook." Jungkook saw the love swirling in your irises; his heart swarmed with adoration for you. As a response, he said, "I love you, ___. I could never love anybody as much as I love you."
You guys kissed one more time before going back to cuddling. In the middle of basking in each other's presence, you blurted, "Oh god, we have to buy the tickets today. Not only that, but we also hav-" Jungkook placed his rough hand on top of your mouth. “Shhh... It's cuddle time, babe." You pushed his hand away and giggled. You wished there was a word more than love, maybe devotion, but you really love Jungkook.
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just4koo · 5 months
Note
Hii! How are you doing? Can you please write hurt to comfort with Jungkook, when he walks out to cool off after an argument and Y/n thinks he left her? :)
i'm doing well, i hope you are too! i kinda got carried away on this request and wrote a lott of angst haha... (it hurt my heart)
never go to sleep angry - jjk.
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summary: one of the most important rules of your relationship was to never go to sleep angry. when the rule was ignored, it led to an argument and a huge misunderstanding.
word count: 5.0k
genre/warnings: established relationship, a lot of angst, comfort, misinterpreting words, argument between them, y/n feels really shitty, mutual confusion, cute ending though
-- ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ --
There was one rule that you and Jungkook always had set up in your relationship. It was one of the reasons that you two were able to stay together for so long. How you had gotten through so many tough times, arguments, and disagreements. One thing that you two agreed on for the past 4 years you had been together.
Never go to sleep angry.
Even though it seems like something that may not matter too much, it had always worked for you two. Being in a relationship meant disagreeing on things. Relationships could be hard, but loving Jungkook was always easy. He made all of the hard times worth it. There weren't many things the two of you fully argued about because of this one rule. Communication was key in your relationship, and the two of you were always able to deescalate the situations so they wouldn't blow up.
It was the rule until now, it seemed.
If you had realized the way that you were making your boyfriend feel, it could've turned out so different. He hadn't spoke up about it because he knew how stressed you were. Later hours at a job meant that you didn't have time for the things you used to. After covid wiped through the world, your company had taken a huge hit. Budget cuts meant people being laid off of their jobs, and the ones that weren't fired got their work loads doubled, or even tripled.
Your job was a work at home -- returning late from work hadn't been the problem. Even if it was, Jungkook knew. He understood how consuming work could be, but he had been working crazy hours everyday since he was 13. He knew how his schedule worked and how to arrange things to make time between the two of you. This workload was new for you, and so he didn't get angry when you were stuck to your laptop for hours after your scheduled workday ended.
It was more of the way you dealt with the stress that got to him. Being stressed meant that you had been getting more irritable. If he tried talking to you when you were working, he was met with a dry "mhm" or a short look that told him you weren't interested. If he tried actually getting your attention, he would just receive snippy answers. He was trying to be understanding, but that also meant ignoring the most important rule of your relationship. Just like you tried to prevent, everything blew up.
"I've just been stressed out, Jungkook! I thought you said you understood!" You shouted at your boyfriend. What had turned into a simple conversation about him asking if you could spend your free day going on a date for the first time in a couple months had turned into this argument. You wanted to take the single free day off to rest your fingers from typing until your fingers locked up, he finally felt the festering irritation out, and it wasn't turning out pretty.
"I do understand, _____! If anyone does, it's me! You've been thinking about yourself this whole time! I try to be nice, I try to be understanding. You just shut me out! Just because you're stressed out or having a hard time doesn't mean you're allowed to treat me this shitty!" You were almost speechless as you listened to him vent to you about his feelings. You had been trying to justify yourself, but the longer this argument continued, the more you realized how you had been treating him.
"I tried so hard. You only try to push me away now. I've always had draining schedules, but I never took it out on you. I knew that this whole thing was new for you, I gave you time to adjust. But I just can't stand this anymore!" Jungkook groaned, putting his face in his hands. You had become ignorant about how your boyfriend felt, trying too hard to explain why you were treating him this way. He had enough of this. You were angry right now, and anger led to you being irrational.
He knew that he needed to get out of the house before the two of you said anything else you regretted. He didn't want the two of you to be blinded by anger and the best thing to do was to cool down. He tried to take in a deep breath as he turned around to walk towards the coat rack. You watched in disbelief as he started to put on his coat and lace up his shoes. Was he really walking out on the argument?
"Are you serious right now!? You started this argument, and now you're just trying to walk away from it?!" You accused him, crossing your arms over your chest. All Jungkook did was shake his head to himself. If you wanted to be petty, then it was only fair for him to do the same. He wasn't going to let himself be a personal punching bag anymore.
"You're right, I am walking away. I can't do this, ______. Get your shit together." You only scoffed at what he said, rolling your eyes in annoyance. Too consumed by your own pride, you didn't say anything as he left, didn't try to stop him. If he wanted to walk out, that was his problem. You felt like you had an excuse for the way you had been. You hadn't even realized how badly your treatment had gotten.
You spent most of the day grouchy now, too sidetracked to focus on your work. The argument happened pretty early in the afternoon, meaning you got most of the day to think about it. You knew he was going to come back before it was bedtime, or at least you thought you knew. Because it had been the most important rule, right? So you spent the whole day trying to formulate an argument to use against him.
The longer you thought about it though, the more uneasy you felt about the situation. It was growing later and later with every passing minute, and there was no sign of your boyfriend. No text or call, no jingling of his keys in the doorway, not even a text from his brother asking what had happened. Him and his brother were very close. He was usually the person Jungkook went to whenever you got into arguments, and his brother had even helped the two of you. He always texted when Jungkook showed up at his place, but there were no notifications.
You had already taken your nightly shower and was sitting on the bed in silence, huffing to yourself. He was being too petty, you thought. Why couldn't he just understand that you were busy? He was one of the busiest people in the world after all, he should be understanding that you didn't have hours of the day to dedicate to your relationship anymore like you used to be able to do.
While stuck in your thoughts, you sort of froze. He was one of the busiest people in the world. He had countless shoots for music videos, songs, magazines, variety shows. Your boyfriend was a member of one of the most renowned music bands. He spent almost everyday practicing and even spent nights in the studio trying to perfect things. If anyone knew what it was like to live a busy life, it would be him. You'd seen how busy his schedules, how full they were. He had something almost everyday. 
Yet he still made time for you.
You recounted all the times he had come home tired from work or exhausted from a performance. The days he returned with a frustrated or irritated expression from something that happened at work. Not one of those times did he ever take it out on you. He never let things that happened outside your relationship affect how he treated you. Before covid happened, he would be gone even more. Even though he had more time after the pandemic, things were getting back into motion.
He shared how overwhelmed he had been with everything. 2020 had been a break that he didn't even know he needed. He loved his fans, loved his band. But even then, he was still human. Not a machine that could work and be pushed through his schedules. When everything shut down, it meant him also being locked in his house and quarantined from everything. Now that there had been vaccinations and the urgency of the virus had died down, he was thrown right back into everything he had gotten used to being away from.
He had an album releasing soon, and it was taking a lot from him to get back into the flow of things. But he never blamed you for it. Before your job had you working crazy hours, he never got angry whenever you called him during his practices or came to surprise him at his workplace, taking away from his rehearsal time. Because it wasn't your fault for wanting to spend time with him or see him.
A pit was beginning to form in your stomach as you stared down at your lap. All of those times where you interrupted him from his work, you never realized how frustrating it could feel. Not until now when you were also working hard to produce quality work. You thought about all of the times he might've been irritated because he was trying to practice or so close to getting something right, and you came to stop him.
Yet every time he saw you, he was so excited and treated you with love. Even if you were distracting him from his job of performing in front of millions, even billions. Yet you had been doing the exact opposite. You were blaming him for wanting to spend time with you. Mad at him just because he wanted some time with his girlfriend. Fuck, you had been an idiot. Created an unnecessary argument just because you forgot to appreciate him.
You immediately reached for your phone, pressing the contact at the top of your favorites list. It was late now, almost 9pm, and you were worried. You wanted to at least see when he was coming home so you could be sure to stay up until then. You wanted to follow through with your number one rule and wait for him. You wanted to be waiting by the door when he came through to apologize to him.
Frowning when the call immediately went to voicemail, you were almost sent into a stupor. He always answered your calls, no matter what. It was strange for the phone go straight into voicemail, because in his car he always had a phone charger. One quick glance out of your window was the confirmation you needed, he did take his car. 
He had his charger with him. Did that mean he was ignoring your calls then? The phone didn't even ring before it went to voicemail, quicker than any person could decline a call. You weren't someone who worried too easily, but whenever something didn't feel right it made you extremely anxious. This was one of those moments right now. There was something off about the whole situation and you didn't know.
You tried his phone at least two more times, and the same thing happened. Not even a single ring. Every time you were met with the voicemail the two of you had recorded together a couple years ago, the giggling one you recorded with him saying that if he wasn't answering the call, he was probably too busy with his beautiful girlfriend. Your heart hurt when you heard that. How much things had changed scared you.
You went to text him, sending a few messages asking if he was okay. You stared down at the notice that the message had failed to send, the frown in your face getting even deeper. You went back into your contacts app, calling his brother instead. To your short relief, the phone was ringing. But after a few long rings, the phone also went to voicemail. You felt the urge to throw your phone at the wall but instead just cursed under your breath.
You weren't even sure how slow or fast the time was passing right now. All you could do was blankly stare down at your phone, hoping for a call. Had the argument been that bad? Was he really not going to come home after 4 years of sticking to that rule? The clock was nearing 12AM now and you were fidgeting nervously. Going over the argument over and over in your mind again. One particular line suddenly caught your attention.
"You're right, I am walking away. I can't do this, ______."
Your heart practically dropped as you remembered that. It was something you overlooked in the moment because you had been so angry with him, so consumed by your own pride. Those were words he never said to you. Sure, he had left the house a few times to cool down when arguments got too heated. But he would always leave with a reminder that he would be back before dark, that he was going to his brother's house.
Did you really ruin the relationship? All because you had been too focused on your work? You could feel your heart beginning to pound in your chest. He told you that he was walking away from you, that he wasn't going to do this anymore. This, as in the relationship? And you didn't do a thing to stop him when he left. You were so stupid.
Now all of the worst thoughts were going through your mind. Any rationality was leaving you. The calls weren't going through still. Had he blocked you? That was the only conclusion you were believing at the moment. You had been treating him like he was a nuisance for the past few months even though he had always been nothing but loving towards you no matter how crazy his schedule became.
You had been ignoring him whenever he wanted to do something with you or tell him something that had happened during his work. You had taken the small amount of free days you got and spent time relaxing and focusing on yourself rather than spending time with the person you loved more than anything, the person who loved you more than anything. You forgot that a relationship was about loving someone even through hard times.
Any hope you had for yourself was draining as you dug yourself into an even deeper hole. You were someone who worried a lot, but it was something that Jungkook had always helped you work out. Without him here, the problems were coming right back. Especially because this was about him. You had been an asshole of a girlfriend and he had enough. He left, walked out, and blocked you.
All of the years in your relationship felt like they were coming back at once. All of the years you spent together. Loving each other unconditionally. You comforting him whenever he was anxious and insecure, him surprising you with date nights or coming home from trips early to spend time with you. Spending his free days surprising him with things like his favorite dinner. You guys argued as well, but it was what happened in any healthy relationship.
This didn't feel like an argument anymore. Usually they would be resolved, this just felt like the end. You were a shitty girlfriend and he could probably find anyone much better. There were so many girls out there who admired him like a god, who would treat him as such. Girls who didn't take who they got for granted until it was too late and they had already gone.
He left. He was really gone. Those words kept repeating in your mind, and yet it felt like everything was a dream. It felt like you couldn't breathe at the moment. You were the reason this happened. The panic attack was coming quicker than you could stop it, and it was hitting at full force. The clock read 2AM by now. You had been sitting in the bed since 8PM waiting for him to walk into the bedroom. He wasn't coming.
Your whole world was crashing in on itself. Tears were welling up inside your eyes as you laid back on the bed, not feeling enough strength to hold yourself upright again. As you laid down on the bed, you were greeted with the smell of your boyfriend. Was he even your boyfriend anymore? His scent flooded your senses, the familiar smell you'd grown to love so much over the years. It was your breaking point.
With shaky hands you grabbed the blanket, hugging it to your body as the sobs started. Your whole body was trembling with them, curled up as you tried desperately to grasp onto what you felt like was the last of your relationship. The only thought in your mind was that all of this was your fault. Like the ignorant person you were, you lost the most important person to you.
You felt like you would do anything to fix this. To just get one more chance to see him. You would beg at your knees if you needed. Anything to promise him that you would be a better girlfriend to him. But he wasn't going to give you another chance. You only realized now how insignificant your work seemed when he left you. You'd been too distracted by your work that you forgot about the one thing that was more important.
You wanted to do so many things. Scream, throw your laptop at the wall, go out and look for him. But you just couldn't. The realization you felt, the pit in your stomach, the overwhelming sense of guilt. It was all too much for you to move a single limb. You felt overly nauseous, like you would throw up if you moved. 
You weren't someone that was completely dependent on Jungkook. You didn't need him to go about your day correctly. You could spend time apart with him. It was something you actually got used to with him going off on tours. But at this moment, it felt like your world was caving in on you. He was the one person who was always there for you no matter what, and now you had to come to terms with that changing. You sobbed even harder as you realized that.
This was the state that Jungkook saw as he walked back into the house. He knew that he had been gone for a long time, well over 12 hours. He had been cooling off by himself. He didn't even know how long he'd been out. His brother had been gone on vacation, meaning that he didn't have a place to go to. He didn't want to bother his bandmates with his relationship problems, so he could only think of one thing.
He spent the whole day hiking. One of the things he had done as a child growing up in Busan, it was something that helped him clear his mind. He drove a couple hours to the mountains and spend a big majority of the day in the nature. He had no service when he was out there, which helped him refrain from calling you before he had the opportunity to sort out his thoughts.
It had been well past nightfall when he got back down the mountain and he hadn't even realized how late it was. Not until he gained his signal back after he spent even longer at the small village by the bottom of the mountain. He had spent quite a while speaking to some of the elders that he lost track of time and saw it was nearly midnight. He had quickly said goodbye and promised to visit again before leaving.
It was only when he had gotten back onto the main highway that his signal returned and the notifications flooded his phone. He frowned as he looked at all of the missed calls from you, the worried texts. Your most recent one was the most concerning one, one that you had sent just twenty minutes prior.
"i'm sorry i was so shitty. i can pack all of my stuff and be gone in the morning."
He was confused as to why you were texting him that. Why were you packing your stuff and talking about leaving? He tried to call you multiple times, but none of the calls picked up. His own panic was building up as he stepped on the gas, speeding more than he would've liked to admit. It was a two hour drive back and right now he was cursing himself for picking a place so far away. 
You usually never called or texted him when you were separated to cool down from arguments, so he knew that something was different this time. He couldn't think of what was different this time, what had happened that led to you saying that you would be packing up to leave. Was he too harsh on you? Should he have just pushed the problem off even more?
You didn't even register the sound of the door opening, too consumed by your grief. Jungkook had rushed into the apartment, looking around for you. He checked the living room first, and then went straight to the bedroom. He stopped completely in his tracks when he saw you. Curled up on the bed into a ball, clutching your shared blanket to your chest, shaking with quiet and violent sobs.
For a few moments he could do nothing but stare at the sight. Wondering if he really had been too hard on you. He didn't think that his words were too harsh when he was saying them. He had only been speaking his feelings. But as he watched you right now, he felt his heart shattering. He never wanted this. He regretted ever saying anything.
You jumped as you felt a hand lay on your shoulder. Your eyes were swollen from all of your crying, you could barely make out the sight of Jungkook knelt down beside you, frowning with immense concern. You almost couldn't believe that he was right in front of you. Your sobs died down a bit as the two of you stared. You were the first one to break down.
"J-Jungkook, I'm so sorry. I was too consumed with my work and I didn't realize how shitty I treated you. You were right. You've always been so busy with work and you never treated me the way I treated you. I was so stressed by my job that I let it out on you. I was such a bad girlfriend, and I understand why you don't want to be with me anymore. I'm just sorry I didn't notice how bad I was." The way you spoke with small sniffles almost broke his heart and distracted him from what you said.
After he processed his words, his frown only deepened. Why were you speaking to him like this? Saying that you would pack all of your stuff, that he didn't want to be with you anymore, that you were a bad girlfriend? All of his anger was completely gone now and at the moment he just felt extremely confused along with distraught from how destroyed you looked.
"Baby, what are you talking about? Why are you saying all of this?" Jungkook asked with pure bewilderment in his tone. This made you look back at him with an equally confused expression. You weren't expecting this response from him. He seemed like he genuinely didn't know what you were talking about and it made you question everything.
"But.. you blocked me. You said that.. that you couldn't do this and were walking away?" You questioned, your voice cracking with how weak it was after sobbing. Jungkook tilted his head a bit as he tried to recall when he ever said that. After going through the argument in his head, the realization hit him. His eyes widened as he recalled what he said in the heat of the moment. He hadn't clarified what he meant and you had been left alone for however many hours thinking that he had ended the relationship.
"______, I know how those words seemed, but that's not at all what I meant. I was saying that I couldn't do the argument, not the relationship. I would never end things off. I only said I was walking away so I could cool off." Jungkook explained as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Not at all irritated by you, but instead angry at himself. He had only said what he was feeling in the heat of the moment and left.
"What about your phone..? None of my calls went through." You asked him, your voice still full with hurt and doubt. He felt terrible for even making you think for a moment that he wanted to end the relationship. Even though he had been pissed off, he would never end the relationship like that in the heat of the moment. Even enraged he knew it would be the worst mistake he would ever make.
"I went to the mountains to hike and get everything off my mind. My brother is on vacation so that's why I didn't go to him. The place I went had no service and so none of the calls or texts could've gotten through." He told you, and your eyes slightly widened. He was really telling the truth? He didn't want to break up with you? At this point you just felt like you had fallen asleep and this was all a dream.
To confirm this was real, you couldn't hold yourself back anymore and reached out for him, and he wasted no time. He sat down on the bed next to you and pulled you right into his arms. Your body froze as you felt his familiar warmth, smelled his scent with the addition of the smell of nature he'd been around all day. This was real. He wasn't leaving you.
The tears instantly started falling from your eyes, but it was different this time. It was relief. You spent so long crying because you thought he had broken up with you, but it all ended up being a misunderstanding. He wasn't leaving you and you had nothing to worry about. In the past 12 hours it felt like your life had completely ended, but it hadn't.
Jungkook held you closely to him, his fingers carding through your slightly tangled hair while his other hand rubbed small circles into your back. He rested his head on the top of yours, knowing that it was better for you to just get all of your feelings out. Even though nothing made him feel worse than knowing he was the reason that you were crying like this, it was better for you to just let it all out so it didn't bottle up. He had been doing that for the past few months and it turned out like this.
You didn't know how long you had been laying like that in his arms, but when you were finally able to stop crying, you noticed the beginnings of light peeking through the windows. The whole time Jungkook was there for you, whispering sweet things to help you calm down. How much he loved you, how he wasn't going to leave you, that he wasn't angry with you. Anything he could think of to help you calm down.
When you finally had a level enough mind to fully process everything, you felt so much relief. But you still felt the same guilt from before. You were the one that disregarded what he felt and now he was comforting you after an argument that was your fault. You needed to say something to him, to apologize and promise that you would be better. There was no way that you were ever going to let your work consume you again.
"I know I already said this, but I want to say that I'm so sorry. I was so stressed out with my new hours that I got angry and irritated whenever you just wanted to spend time with me. I never should've done that and I realize now how much I took you for granted. You've always made the time for me and I should've done the same for you. I know now how wrong and unfair I was being to you, and I want to be better." You said to him, your voice filled with regret.
Jungkook smiled lightly when he heard your apology. There was no longer any anger in his eyes. No resentment. To him, that was all in the past now. He could hear the sincerity in every word you said. After all, this was the reason that he had started dating you. You were so sweet and considerate towards others. You just needed to realize what you were doing wrong. You were distracted and didn't know you were bring rude.
"It's okay, my love. I know how stressful it's been for you and I'm not angry anymore. I understand how you feel and I accept your apology. I know you didn't realize how you were treating me." Jungkook replied, putting his fingers under your chin so he could tilt your head up to look at him. Even with your red, puffy eyes and runny nose you were so beautiful to him. He gently kissed the tip of your nose before resting his forehead against yours.
"I love you so much. Thank you for always being the best." You mumbled, closing your eyes as you took the time to let yourself bask in the moment. Letting go of all doubts that you felt previously. There was no reason to dwell on this argument, because you knew that you wouldn't make this mistake anymore going on.
"I love you too, always. No matter what happens." Jungkook replied with a bit of reassurance in his tone. You smiled as he said those words to you, leaning forward to close the small gap between the two of you. You were fully calmed down as your lips met and any thoughts that you had melted away in the moment. Everything was okay in this moment. 
Even though this argument had been rough, the two of you had stuck to your most important rule. The two of you went to sleep shortly afterwards, no more feelings of anger or resentment. You would never go to bed angry anymore, realizing just how important that rule was.
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cybrsan · 3 months
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Miracle Of The Season — J.JK
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STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.
PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader
RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU
WORD COUNT: 17.2k
WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape
OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex
A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.
A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.
LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.
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"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"
You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning. 
Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.
"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday? 
You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas. 
It makes you sick. 
The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?" 
You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.  
Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things. 
The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny. 
At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling. 
You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse. 
And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.
Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified. 
There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook. 
There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired. 
When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away. 
Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls. 
When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."
His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.
Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you. 
Jungkook.
Your Astrom. 
The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal. 
Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.
A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.  
Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.
At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination. 
Lost Star Shelter.
The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky. 
You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications. 
"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face. 
"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.
"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"
You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."
You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.
You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious. 
After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.
Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer. 
As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod. 
"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room. 
You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi." 
She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.
"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."
Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will. 
"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."
Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."
"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.
A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night. 
The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep. 
You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day. 
Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest. 
"Impossible," you whisper to yourself. 
The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope. 
Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.
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The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.
You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?
You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.
“Excuse me?”
He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?" 
"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"
He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.
"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."
“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.
He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him. 
"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."
“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.
“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.” 
“I hope you’re right.”
The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into. 
His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced. 
As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.
Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since. 
Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop. 
The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.
“Y/N.”
He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.
“I cannot believe you are alive.”
What?
His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember. 
His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.
But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.   
“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead." 
“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell. 
He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him. 
“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”
“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."
"I need you to explain everything," he demands. 
“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”
“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.
“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?” 
“What are you talking about?”
"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!” 
He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.” 
His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments. 
“That’s not what Namsu told me.”
“Namsu? The Throne?” 
“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”
His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”
"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."
"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment." 
His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you. 
"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."
"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."
"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"
"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.
Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings. 
Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”
“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”
The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you. 
"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you." 
His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N." 
"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."
"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."
"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."
His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."
"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."
"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook." 
He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."
"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."
Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful." 
"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?" 
He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."
"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."
He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."
Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.
"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."
You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"
"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”
"You're serious?" 
Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.
"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."
"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."
He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.
"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."
His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"
"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest. 
Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.
“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”
He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”
You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold. 
"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."
"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”
He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.
“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it." 
"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."
Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."
"Hm? What does?"
"Being human."
"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” 
"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."
He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out. 
"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."
"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."
You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.
"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."
"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"
You swallow hard. "A bit."
You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?" 
"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.
"Is that frowned upon?" 
"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter." 
"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."
"Exactly."
"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.
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"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay." 
Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do." 
"Then he can stay with me!"
"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."
"We'll make it work!"
"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed." 
"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important." 
Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately." 
Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat. 
"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation. 
"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?" 
"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less." 
You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive. 
Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.
"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small." 
"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them." 
"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related." 
I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.
"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes." 
"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?" 
"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes." 
"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"
You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out. 
"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."
He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."
"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"
"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."
You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?" 
Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.
"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?" 
Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.” 
“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”
Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."
“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?” 
Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.
"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."
"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."
"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back." 
"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you. 
You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."
"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome." 
You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it." 
"What is 'flirt’?”
"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."
"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"
You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring? 
"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach." 
As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you." 
Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in. 
"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't. 
"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady. 
"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."
"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."
"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second." 
You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now. 
As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case." 
"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."
"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."
"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around." 
The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."
You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter. 
"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least. 
"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."
"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word. 
You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction. 
With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done." 
Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting." 
"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable." 
You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.
After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.
"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.
Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.
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Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.
"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."
"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"
You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."
Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.
"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”
You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows. 
"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail. 
You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him. 
It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.
"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."
"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.
You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."
He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"
You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words. 
"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."
"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended." 
Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."
"Try harder doing what?" 
"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me." 
"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope. 
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Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life. 
Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.
Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word. 
One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen. 
You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.
He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?" 
"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him. 
"That's good to hear.”
Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?
Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”
“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”
“Kiss?”
“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—” 
“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."
Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.
"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.
He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.
"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"
He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.
You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."  
"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm. 
Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson." 
You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.
When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.
"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.
"I… no," you say. 
"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”
"Is that so?" 
"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful." 
You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.  
Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."
"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."
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With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.
You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side. 
He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.
His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls. 
"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.
"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.
His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"
You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.
The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”
“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently. 
“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.” 
Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.
He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand. 
He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real." 
You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”
"There is one God. That is what we were taught."
"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”
Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?" 
"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated." 
"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”
You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."
You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.
When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you. 
"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.
He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”
“You would be correct.”
“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."
"What about them?"
He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred." 
You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.
"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.” 
He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"
"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."
"More than our purpose?" 
"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist." 
Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu." 
You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.
"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.
"I will."
He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.
"Promise me," you whisper into his chest. 
"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."
His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.
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It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.
Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.
“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”
"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.
She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."
"Naomi!" 
"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back. 
You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.
He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.
The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.
As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.
The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.
The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.
"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.
"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."
"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."
"What happened?" 
You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.
"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it." 
"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"
A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."
Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.” 
Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.
"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright." 
You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him. 
"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.
"What about me?" 
"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."
"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me." 
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."
"But… you can only do that if you're—"
"Human, yes," he interrupts. 
"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"
"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side." 
The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?" 
“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”
"W-what words?"
He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."
You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him. 
"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.
"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."
"But you shouldn't have to Fall!" 
"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”
"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.
Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”
"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.
For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.
"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."
His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."
"This will change everything," you say again.
"I know," he replies simply. 
"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter." 
As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.
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The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."
You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you. 
"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."
You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.
"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.
"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human." 
"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.
"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night." 
Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words." 
"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know." 
"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.
His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."
You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?" 
"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."
Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer. 
"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.
Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch. 
"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."
You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."
The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin. 
"You aren't in pain?” 
“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"
"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.
He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break." 
You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?" 
He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe." 
His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.
"What was that?" he asks.
"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like." 
"I want to hear it again." 
His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.
"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure. 
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest. 
He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire. 
"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."
He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you." 
You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.
"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.
You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."
His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.
"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."
Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.
"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 
"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."
Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words. 
"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire. 
Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure. 
"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—" 
A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.
"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 
His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together. 
You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."
You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm. 
He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.
Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please." 
Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”
Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed. 
You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."
He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over. 
"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.
His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.
"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—" 
Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth. 
"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.
"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too." 
You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you. 
He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you. 
Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.
"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words. 
"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.
"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him. 
His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep. 
Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."
His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.
"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much." 
He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."
The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.
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The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones. 
You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.
"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down. 
As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. 
He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."
"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."
"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly. 
Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"
"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"
"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor." 
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.
"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"
"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."
"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say. 
She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"
You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am." 
"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"
"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.
Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go. 
Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment. 
"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean. 
Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."
"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"
His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits. 
"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"
"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”
Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.
"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."
"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."
You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."
"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."
"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you." 
You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?
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TAGLIST: @yessa-vie
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peachyjeonss · 1 year
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SUNKISSIN’ | J.JK
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© peachyjeonss 2023. Do not repost and modify unless permitted to  
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Pairing: Tattoo artist!Jungkook x Lifeguard!Reader    
Genre: strangers to enemies, enemies to lovers, Smut
Warnings: Reader has a belly piercing, mentions of getting high, Jk and reader have nose piercings, size kink, slight daddy kink, Jk is pretty dominant even when it’s not sexual, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap pls), readers kind of a bitch at first, Jk is also kind of a dick at first, clueless reader at times, Jk gets jealous, jk eats her out, reader gets jk off, ass slapping, reader gets bent over the kitchen counter, reader’s kind of a spoiled brat, brat-taming, choking, tummy bulge, praise, degradation, cum eating, brat tamer jk, dirty talk, slight exhibition, Jk is kind of an aggressive person (not in a toxic way obv), 
Rating: M
Synopsis: Summer has begun and so has your job as a lifeguard at the Stillwells Country Club  — Which means; sunny weather, blue pools and cute bathing suits! You’re looking forward to it; just another normal summer working with friends, but your summer takes a turn when you see his sweet eyes and intimidating stature at the staff car wash.
A/N: This is my first posttt, here’s the teaser!
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His sunglasses lean on the tip of his nose as he looks up at the sky, breathing out.
“This is the most relaxed I’ve seen you in a minute.” Yoongi laughs, sitting next to him as he lathers sunscreen on his pale arms.
“Yeah, surprisingly work hasn’t come to my mind yet.” Jungkook admits, letting out a breathless chuckle as he kicks his feet in the water.
Yoongi hums, “Me neither, and I’m not even a sun person.”
“That’s what the rich life does to you, I guess.” Nari giggles, swimming to them.
Taehyung follows suit, pushing his falling sunglasses back up his nose. “Yeah, I’m about to order a pina-colada just ‘cause.”
“Don’t abuse the free membership either.” Jungkook warns, looking back down at his friend. “It was nice of her to do this for us.”
“Yeah, Aya’s always been pretty sweet.” Taehyung agrees, “She has her spoiled moments though, can't take the rich out of the girl completely.”
Nari smiles, “She’s better than me, I wouldn’t even interact with you peasants if I had country club money.”
“Yeah, that’s why you’re not rich.” Yoongi teases, “You’d be horrible.”
“I suppose.” Nari shrugs, looking around before her mouth falls into an O, “This resort even has good-looking lifeguards...”
Jungkook cocks a brow at her, last time he remembers the lifeguard was some scrawny dude with a permanent scowl. Looking up, Jungkook sits up quickly, pushing his sunglasses over his head at the familiar figure he sees switching seats with the old lifeguard. 
“Isn’t that the girl you checked out the other day?” Yoongi asks, his eyes raking over your body shamelessly, making Jungkook shove him gently.
“Yeah, it is.” Jungkook smirks, watching as you offer some kids a cute smile, telling them to watch their step as they run. Even in the basic red swimsuit the lifeguards were required to wear you still somehow managed to look like sin. “She’s friends with Aya, right?”
“Yeah, they're actually really close.” Taehyung says in a forgetful manner, too preoccupied in doggy paddling around his friends. “Been friends since middle school.”
“Shit, so they're like sisters then.” Nari corrects, “Middle school to college is cool, they saw each other get out of the awkward stage.”
“If she even had one.” Jungkook laughs, still eyeing you.
“They say the prettiest girls have the most awkward phases.” Nari shrugs, “I mean, look at me, gorgeous and my awkward stage was horrendous.”
“Yeah, sure.” Yoongi laughs, wincing when Nari pinches his leg.
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taexual · 3 months
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sleepwalking ● 15 | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers
warnings: explicit language, SLOW BURN, ANGST (including some miscommunication due to alcohol & descriptions of anxiety)
words: 10.9k
read from the beginning ○ masterlist
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chapter 15 ► i had the whole damn world and i gave it all away, what did i think i would save?
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Waking up on a good day was not a pleasant experience for Jungkook. But waking up that morning in Tilburg felt a bit like having his brain pulled out through his nose with a metal hook.
The bus was dim—was he on the bus? How did he get here in the first place?—and the slightest light coming from the skylight made his eyes sting. His head seemed to split in two, and his whole body felt as if he had deliberately allowed a lawnmower to run over him.
So this was a hangover, then.
He hadn’t had many of those in his life, which of course, did not indicate how often he drank. Maybe he had lost his ability to drink without getting really drunk. Or maybe he drank so much that even this ability wasn’t enough.
“You awake?” a voice asked, and the kaleidoscope of sharp echoes in Jungkook’s head forced him to retreat further into his bunk.
“Why,” he uttered, each word like fire in his parched mouth, “would you yell?”
A chuckle in response helped him identify the speaker as Hoseok.
“You’re the only one still sleeping. Everyone else is getting pancakes for breakfast,” he said. “Do you want to know what ‘pancake batter’ is in Dutch? Word on the street is, pronouncing it three times in front of the mirror will kill you.”
“I will kill you,” Jungkook retorted, “unless you can bring me some water. Please?”
Amused, Hoseok walked to the back of the bus where the mini-fridge was. He grabbed a bottle and brought it to the younger member before settling on the edge of his bunk.
“Here,” he said. “Why’d you drink so much last night in any case?”
It took incredible effort for Jungkook to sit up, but he managed—while groaning and moaning, and glaring at Hoseok each time the older boy chuckled at his exaggerated struggle.
Jungkook took the water bottle and emptied half of it in one gulp, but it didn’t make much of a difference. The bitter aftertaste lingered in his mouth, and every word he spoke still felt like acid.
“I can’t remember,” he said, even though something inside of him told him that this wasn’t true. Apart from the pain, he also felt this heavy unease—as if he had an apocalyptic event scheduled for this afternoon, and he needed to prepare for it, hence the excessive drinking. “I’m sure I had a reason.”
Hoseok assumed as much and he asked, “did something happen?”
“I—” Jungkook interrupted himself when he threw his head back to finish the rest of the water. This didn’t help either, and now his stomach felt uncomfortably heavy. He said again, “I don’t know. Can’t remember.”
“I saw you leave the venue with—”
“I remember that,” he said quickly as if he was afraid to hear the conclusions Hoseok had drawn after seeing him leave with you.
“Where’d you two go?” Hoseok asked.
“To this park,” Jungkook said, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers as he tried to bring last night back to him. He remembered kissing you. Unless he’d dreamt that, of course. Both options were likely. Neither was acceptable to say out loud. Weakly, he continued, “uh… I don’t really—we talked there.”
Since Hoseok did not know what had really happened between you and Jungkook at that park, he followed up with the logical question, “did you have a fight?”
“No, we…” Jungkook sighed. Another memory returned, this one more vivid than the kiss he thought he remembered—which was a shame. He would have preferred the kiss. He opened his eyes and looked at Hoseok questioningly, “Namjoon called her. Yoongi’s laptop?”
“Ah, yeah.” The older boy laughed. “They went to McDonald’s and left it there. Then they got so wasted, they forgot about it.”
Jungkook snorted weakly. “Idiots.”
It gave him great pleasure to say the word, because for once, it wasn’t him who was being described here.
“Just like you, huh?” Hoseok teased nonetheless. “Seems like everyone had a reason to drink last night.”
Jungkook ignored the gentle jab and focused on remembering you.
“Did you see her this morning?” he asked.
Hoseok nodded.
“Did she seem angry?” Jungkook continued, hoping for a clue about the rest of the night. The last thing he seemed to remember was the truck stop. He was alone in his memory, but he assumed that was because you hadn’t returned from finding the missing laptop yet.
Jungkook didn’t think you had gone drinking with him last night; he seemed to remember—or just assumed—that you had left before he got drunk. And he realised that he knew why he got drunk – he was worried about the bet and how he would tell you.
He thought he remembered talking to someone about this last night, but it couldn’t have been you, because he recalled being called “son.” It must have been someone else at the bar, then. Maybe the bartender.
But what happened afterwards? Did his chest hurt so much because he still hadn’t told you?
“No. She didn’t seem angry,” Hoseok said. “But she’s never angry with me because I never give her a reason to be.”
The teasing smile on the older member’s face made Jungkook grimace. “Good for you.”
Hoseok chuckled because he didn’t get to see Jungkook like this often. Usually, the entire band was wiped out with a cursed hangover, and Jungkook was the one obnoxious ray of sunshine in the room. Hoseok and the others always thought this was unfair. Clearly, this morning was a welcome change.
“She seemed okay,” Hoseok said. Then, more seriously, he asked, “you think you did something? Besides getting drunk, I mean.”
The younger boy exhaled and watched the bedding on his bunk for a minute. It was black and seemed even darker in the shadow inside the bus. It did nothing whatsoever to jog his memory.
He was worried that he had done something very terrible. Not worse than having made the bet in the first place, but terrible nonetheless.
What if he’d missed his chance to tell you and someone else had told you first? Probably not Sid, because he may have been an absolute dickhead, but he needed to win the bet fairly to be satisfied. But what if—
Taehyung, he thought suddenly.
Taehyung knew. What if he’d found you while Jungkook was in the bar?
You tell her or I will, Taehyung had said to him back in Amsterdam.
What if he had told you everything because he couldn’t bear to keep it to himself any longer?
Jungkook had seen how distressed the bassist was. He had noticed how he kept avoiding his eyes when they were in the same room.
Groaning, Jungkook pressed his palms to his forehead and strained to remember something. Did he talk to you after you returned with the laptop? What did he say? More importantly, what did you say that left him half-paralysed with this unidentified worry?
“I… don’t really…” Jungkook tried to cling to a memory and see what happened next, but his thoughts remained muddled. Did he kiss you in the park before or after you told him about your parents’ tumultuous relationship?
“Did you drink together?” Hoseok enquired, slipping into investigator mode as he crossed his legs on Jungkook’s bunk. He thought he was being helpful, but Jungkook felt pressured into giving answers that wouldn’t reveal too much—you’d rubbed off on him, he supposed. Or maybe he just didn’t want to upset you any more than he may have already had. “Or did you get drunk after she left to find the laptop?”
“After. I think,” Jungkook said. “I was driving before.”
“Driving?” Hoseok repeated, visibly surprised.
Jungkook waved his hand dismissively. “Long story.”
Hoseok noticed that Jungkook was struggling to speak in longer sentences, as evidenced by his colourless face as he shrank away from the skylight. He decided to quit questioning, assuming it was a hangover that plagued the younger boy.
Instead, he shared his last memory, hoping it would be helpful: “I think I heard you come back. At about nine.”
It was not helpful.
Jungkook frowned and asked, “you were already awake?”
“Well, Namjoon and Yoongi caused a scene on the bus earlier,” Hoseok explained, shrugging one of his shoulders. “They woke everyone up and I couldn’t really fall asleep after that.”
“Oh.”
“But I can’t help you with anything else. Sorry,” he said, biting his lip. “Maybe once your hangover wears off, you’ll remember.”
Jungkook lowered his head because it started to burn when he attempted to shake it in response.
Stubbornly, he mumbled, “I’m never hungover.”
Hoseok was about to laugh but he managed to contain it to a soft snicker. “Well, you’re hungover now, so I don’t know what to tell you.”
“What time is it?” Jungkook asked.
Hoseok had to check his phone first.
“Eleven,” he said.
“Eleven?” Jungkook repeated, his mind fighting against him as he tried to piece the timeline together. “I only slept for… if you saw me at nine, then I only slept for—wait, and you said you hadn’t slept at all?”
Hoseok shook his head, but looking at his phone had distracted him. Truthfully, he hadn’t told Jungkook everything he knew.
He had seen Minjun half-carrying a drunk Jungkook onto the bus at around eight-forty this morning. Hoseok remembered the time because his phone had died about a minute later, and he didn’t get to finish the Falling in Reverse album that he had been listening to on a loop that night.
Minjun’s presence might have sparked a memory, but Hoseok decided not to mention it. He preferred it when Jungkook’s friends weren’t involved in the situations that Jungkook seemed to have forgotten about, and he didn’t want the younger boy to go looking for said friends right away.
“Get something to eat,” Hoseok said, getting up from the bunk. “Pancakes. That’ll help you.”
Eating didn’t sound terrible, but it wasn’t that easy. For one thing, standing up seemed almost like a Herculean task right now—Jungkook was only slightly exaggerating here: he could extend a hand. But a leg? Not so much. And walking was probably completely out of the question.
“Yeah, fine,” he said as he lowered himself face-down onto the mattress, preparing to get out of the bunk—either by crawling or rolling out. “But I need to wash up a bit first. Somehow.”
“Yeah, that’d probably be good,” Hoseok agreed. “You reek of a bar.”
Jungkook glared—more at his pillow than at Hoseok—and mumbled, “thanks for the help.”
“Anytime!” Hoseok said with his usual good-natured laugh. He watched Jungkook try to stand and decided that the younger boy had brought this on himself, so it would do him good to find a way out himself, too. Approaching the door of the bus, Hoseok added, “I’ll wait for you outside. Don’t hurt yourself!”
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Straining and grunting, Jungkook managed to wash up, despite his almost unbearable headache and the cramped bathroom of the bus—it was, really, just a toilet and the smallest sink imaginable. He slammed his knees into the wall twice and kicked himself in the shins one and a half times.
He could still taste the whiskey in his mouth, and he thought he could still smell it on himself as well—he’d need a proper shower, maybe several, to get rid of that—but he felt a little better. The improvement was barely noticeable, but it was there, and he got off the bus with a lighter step.
He wondered if the restaurant outside only served pancakes, as Hoseok had advertised, or if they were also prepared to make some other dishes, such as the greasiest, oiliest chicken possible.
When he got off the bus, hoping to find out, he first spotted Hoseok who was lifting his chin and pointing forward, gesturing for him to go on.
Jungkook turned his head and immediately saw you standing right at the entrance of the restaurant. He forgot all about Hoseok and the food.
Right away, he felt an odd sensation in his stomach; something that transcended worry and turned into outright terror. He watched you for a minute, almost petrified. His feet refused to budge as if his body remembered last night better than his mind.
You noticed him in the middle of your conversation with Luna. You saw him freeze first, then eventually start to walk towards you. Right after your eyes met, you looked back at Luna briefly and turned to enter the restaurant without a second glance in his direction.
This was, of course, hardly the reaction Jungkook had been hoping for because one of your last interactions that he could remember with questionable certainty was a kiss.
The horror inside him grew. Something must have really happened last night—something so horrible that his mind chose to drown in alcohol rather than remember it.
Maybe he had found you after Taehyung had talked to you last night, and he’d attempted to make amends, but he was too drunk to tell you everything he needed to tell you…
He had to find out. He had to fix it.
Jungkook walked past Luna, gave her a quick nod hello—and cringed in pain when he moved his head, therefore missing the glare she gave him—and went in after you.
He called out your name, then touched your shoulder. You turned around very slowly, almost reluctantly. He suspected that if he hadn’t touched you, you would have ignored him altogether.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
You gave him one look – maybe even less than that – and turned away, taking a small step to the side to escape his touch.
Before you looked away, it seemed to him that you hadn’t slept at all. He knew you well enough to recognise that. He also knew you well enough to recognise the obvious disapproval on your face—as if you were talking to Sid and not him.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
What happened last night?
“I don’t have time,” you finally said, and his panic deepened.
“Please?” he asked, trailing behind you as you walked towards a table by the window in the farthest corner from the entrance. You’d chosen it as your workspace, but Luna had persuaded you to have breakfast with her and the boys first.
Right away, Jungkook spotted Taehyung, Luna and Yoongi on the other side of the restaurant—all three of them were watching Jungkook follow you.
“I appreciate the manners,” you said as you walked, “but I still don’t have time.”
Close to despair, he whispered—as if your friends could overhear your conversation from across the room, “d-did something happen last night?”
This finally made you turn around and look at him.
Suddenly, he wished you hadn’t.
There was a look in your eyes that reminded him of something. He couldn’t quite place that look, but he felt his chest tighten so much that his heart could barely fit inside, the beating violent and terrified.
It wasn’t anger that he saw when he looked at you. It wasn’t contempt, either. Nor disgust, nor revulsion—it wasn’t anything he had expected to see.
It was a weary disappointment—as if you had been worried about something for a long time, but still hoped it wouldn’t happen, and it did. It happened. And Jungkook realised in horror that he was probably what you were worried about.
“No,” you said, deciding that it wouldn’t do either of you any good to argue here. It scared him, this split-second decision that you made. He wanted you to shout at him, he wanted to see the fire in your eyes. He was afraid of the emptiness he found in them instead. You finished, “nothing significant happened at all. Not last night, or any night before.”
Your words disturbed him. It sounded—and his head began to pound much harder than his heart—like you were talking about all these weeks in Europe. All that the two of you had done together.
He swallowed the concern on his tongue. He still felt half-drunk and three-quarters hungover, so he didn’t know if the assumptions he was making were a result of a hangover paranoia or if he’d interpreted everything you’d said correctly. Honestly, he didn’t even want to know. But he had to ask.
“W-what is that supposed to mean?”
He realised he was clinging onto a tiny, pitiful hope that he’d seen the look in your eyes in a distant nightmare and not right in front of him at the truck stop last night. It seemed more and more unlikely the longer that he waited for you to speak, but while he breathed, he hoped.
“It’s supposed to mean that you need to get something to eat and join the rest of your band,” you said, picking up your coffee cup from the table next to you. Jungkook noticed that there was nothing else on it, just a stack of papers, your laptop, and your phone. “I have work to do.”
Suddenly, he wanted to pause this uncomfortable exchange where the two of you stayed quiet about more things than you expressed. He wanted to tell you that it was you who should have got something to eat. He wanted to remind you not to overwork yourself.
But the way you looked at him was an alarming indication that it wasn’t his place to say these things to you anymore.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck—
“Did you…” Jungkook tried to choose his words carefully. “Did you talk to someone last night? After we got back from the park, I mean?”
You looked startled somehow as you swallowed your coffee and set the empty cup down. Then you gave him a smile with not one bit of humour or kindness behind it, and he felt the skin on the back of his neck prickle with horror.
You did talk to someone. And he made the mistake of asking who it was.
“I didn’t talk to anyone important,” you finally said.
That was enough to confirm all of his foreboding senses.
“You know,” he concluded breathlessly.
Looking away instead of acknowledging his vague—but obviously correct—statement, you picked up your belongings from the table.
“I know enough to see that you need to eat and then sleep this off,” you said. “You smell like a bottle of Jack Daniels.”
You tried to walk past him, but Jungkook moved to block your way.
“Who told you?” he pressed.
You raised your eyebrows at the question.
“Are you—okay.” You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. You tried to phrase your next words as tactfully as possible, aware that you would have a large audience if you raised your voice here. “It’s a little mind-blowing to me that you think the issue here is who told me. And it’s a lot mind-blowing that you dare to ask me that.”
Uncomfortable under your affronted gaze, Jungkook blinked and looked away. His heavy head was slowly dragging him to the floor, and he leaned against the table for more support.
“I—I’m really sorry,” he said, not daring to look at you again because the emptiness in your eyes was so discomfiting that it felt almost unnatural. He realised, painfully, that he’d taken all of your timid glances for granted. He missed them now—so much.
But as soon as the apology was out of his mouth, he immediately remembered that he had said the exact same words to you. Unfortunately, he had said them to you many times before.
This could have been déjà vu.
It could have been a memory from weeks ago.
But it also could have been a memory from last night.
Now you were hesitating. You didn’t know what he was apologising for specifically, and you suspected that he didn’t know, either. Then you finally nodded your head.
Jungkook worried that you’d come to a decision—a final one, to make up for all the previous times you’d claimed this was final but hadn’t meant it.
Now you looked like you meant it.
You didn’t offer him any relief from his misery and gave him no hints of what had happened after you returned from the park.
Instead, you said, “eat something,” and walked around him.
He didn’t stop you this time. He knew he couldn’t.
But he also knew that he would find you as soon as he figured out how you discovered the truth and whether he talked to you after that.
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You joined Yoongi, Taehyung, and Luna at a table in the annexe of the pancake restaurant, right next to a wall-sized window with a view of the vast, completely empty fields of green behind the building.
“Everything okay?” Luna asked as you sat down in the remaining empty chair by the table, next to Yoongi.
You were uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on you. You knew they’d witnessed the exchange you’d just shared with Jungkook, but you didn’t know what they thought they saw.
“Absolutely,” you replied in a manner so manufactured that they could all tell it was insincere.
While you pretended to be interested in the food that your friends had ordered for you, Yoongi glanced at everyone by the table one after the other.
“Is, uh, something wrong?” he asked, fixing his gaze on you. “With Jungkook?”
“No,” you said. Again, with a noticeable bitterness. “Some tension, that’s all.”
Yoongi was still processing your revelation about Reconnaissance. Yesterday, he had told you that you didn’t have to tell anyone else about it, but he wasn’t sure if he’d really meant it. He assumed you could guess as much. And now he was starting to think that you’d told Jungkook about it, after all.
Carefully, he asked, “did Jungkook get mad at you for not telling him about… things?”
Yoongi wasn’t very good at being discreet. You saw Taehyung frown as he looked up at you.
Taehyung was understandably confused. He thought it was Jungkook who hadn’t told you “things.” Why would he be the one getting mad?
“No,” you said to Yoongi. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be mad here. But it’s fine. I just—I’m not even—I just need a minute.”
Huh, Taehyung thought to himself as he continued to eat in silence. You were obviously seething. Something must have happened.
He had suspected that Jungkook was going to tell you last night when the two of you left together (and, naturally, Taehyung went to find Luna right after witnessing your exit, so he could finally calm himself down). But if Jungkook told you—what the hell was Yoongi on about?
“Well, wait a second,” Yoongi pushed, also very confused. “What do you mean? Why are you mad?”
To him, it seemed like you were prepared to handle the news about Reconnaissance on your own. He thought it was possible that Jungkook had reacted very negatively when you told him and he’d said something upsetting. He knew the vocalist would be unhappy if he found out that you were getting offers to leave Rated Riot.
That would explain—sort of—your emotions. And if that was the case, Yoongi was prepared to interfere.
“Did he say something to you?” he asked. “If he’s upset about this… possibility, then I can talk—”
“Yoongi,” Luna cut in with a rushed whisper. “I don’t think this is about Reconnaissance.”
She was quick to figure out that you had told Yoongi about Nick’s offer—it wasn’t difficult, considering Yoongi was about as vague as a treasure map with a giant X on it. She wanted him to drop the topic before you were forced to admit that this was actually about Jungkook’s bet.
Luna could tell from your body language when you saw Jungkook—and from the way you were about to bend the fork in your hand right now—that you finally knew about the bet, too.
Taehyung, on the other hand, remained simply baffled.
He knew about the bet, sure. But he looked up from his plate again, and correctly guessed from the frowns on everyone’s faces that he was the only one who did not know about this Reconnaissance business that Luna had just mentioned.
“Reconnaissance?” he asked. “What about Reconnaissance?”
He appeared to enjoy saying the band’s name and seemed oblivious to your cringing every time he said it.
You looked up at Luna first—her eyes were wide as she realised that she shouldn’t have mentioned the band outright. To make matters worse, it suddenly occurred to her that you didn’t know that she and Taehyung knew about the bet, so you must have been confused as to why she would divert the topic so suddenly and plunge you straight into a different awkward conversation.
But before she could apologise, you turned to Yoongi, who lowered his head as soon as he met your eyes. He realised that he couldn’t ask Luna what she’d meant—what else could you and Jungkook argue about?—because there was a more important discussion waiting to happen.
You cleared your throat.
“Nothing important,” you finally said. “Their manager contacted me the other day about an open position in their staff, but I told him I wasn’t interested. I mentioned this to, uh—to Luna. And to Yoongi, too, a few days ago.”
You chose not to reveal that Maggie and Namjoon also knew about this, so Taehyung wouldn’t feel as left out as you assumed you had just made him feel.
There were several things that Taehyung struggled to process here. He tried to look at his girlfriend for help first, but Luna purposefully made herself busy by drinking her orange juice. Then he glanced over at his bandmate, but Yoongi turned his entire body away from him to look out the window.
Clearly, neither one of them wanted to explain why they weren’t questioning you about this, so it took Taehyung a minute to find his words.
“But this is…” he started, then paused. “It’s big!”
“Yeah, I—well, you know,” you said while knowing that he didn’t know. You felt guilty and uncomfortable having to explain this right after he found out that you’d kept it from him. “I-I’m happy here. I like what I do. I would—I’d have far less responsibility, but a lot more pressure if I went to work with them.”
Taehyung considered this.
“It would be a great opportunity, t-that’s true,” you added, sounding increasingly uncertain as you spoke. “They’re million-dollar sellers. But I don’t—I want to reach that level with you guys. Not join someone who’s already at the top. Where’s the fun in that?”
You smiled as you finished, hoping to soften the impact of the news. Taehyung finally allowed his muscles to relax a little as he leaned back in his seat and took a sip of his iced tea.
“I see,” he said, placing the glass back on the table. “Okay. So, you’re staying. Right?”
You were on the verge of responding—because you thought you’d just be repeating yourself again—but then you stopped.
You said you were happy here.
You said you weren’t interested in leaving.
But you didn’t, technically, say that you were staying.
You’d said it to Maggie and Luna, and then to Yoongi and Namjoon. But that was before you allowed yourself to confront your feelings for Jungkook while he just tried to win a bet against Sid.
And now you were hesitating.
When you eventually nodded, the assurance from your lips sounded far less convincing. “Mhmm. Yes.”
Silence settled at the table until Luna, still feeling guilty about the slip-up (she would apologise to you as soon as the boys were out of earshot), changed the topic to something completely unrelated: namely the sights she thought would be interesting to see once you were in London.
You hoped to avoid discussing Reconnaissance again, but Nick’s offer had suddenly gained more weight in your mind.
As you returned to your designated workspace after breakfast, you remembered the pros and cons list that Maggie had suggested back in Oslo.
The pros of leaving Rated Riot and joining Reconnaissance had expanded dangerously following your conversation with Jungkook last night.
You worried. You didn’t think you would actually leave, at least not just because of this ridiculous bet. But the more you thought about it—and the more you remembered that Jungkook’s friends were right around here somewhere—the more you couldn’t help it.
Would it really be so terrible to continue your career with a band that had a massive following and did not have your ex-boyfriend as a member, and his good-for-nothing friends as a persistent shadow?
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Contrary to what Hoseok had promised and what he had expected himself, eating didn’t make Jungkook feel better. If anything, it only made him feel more irritated.
As he mindlessly chewed the pancakes—which were probably delicious, really, but they tasted like napkins in his hungover mouth—he went over the conversation he’d just had with you.
Again, he arrived at the same conclusion: you knew about the bet.
But everything else in his mind was speculation.
He might have talked to you after you found out, and he might not have handled it very well.
He might not have talked to you after you found out, which was just as bad.
He realised then, with a sinking feeling in his cotton-filled stomach, that he might have also been the one who told you about it.
That would have almost been good, he’d meant to tell you—but when he was sober. And, ideally, without forgetting about it the next day.
He hoped desperately that this wasn’t what had happened. But he needed to know for certain.
He had concluded earlier that only one other person could have talked to you about this, so he pushed his plate away and looked around.
He didn’t spot Taehyung here anymore. But Luna was standing by the cash register.
He stood up and approached her right away.
She didn’t look particularly pleased to talk to him, and Jungkook quickly surmised that she knew about the bet, too. He fully expected this since Taehyung considered her mind an extension of his own. Now, Jungkook thought, he had even more reasons to talk to him.
Luna informed him that Taehyung had felt tired and returned to the bus for a short nap. She said she was waiting to grab some dessert for him.
Jungkook couldn’t thank her for the information quickly enough.
Acting solely on instinct, he ran out of the restaurant, flung open the bus door, and marched inside. He was glad to see that the bus was empty except for Taehyung lying in his bunk.
“Did you tell her?!” Jungkook fired immediately. He wasn’t sure if he’d meant to sound so accusing—he was simply frantic to learn what was hiding in the dark spots of his memory.
Flinching at the sudden shouting that he managed to hear over his music, Taehyung opened his eyes and sat up. He paused the song on his phone and raised his eyes.
He didn’t have to ask what Jungkook meant.
“I didn’t tell her anything,” he said as he pulled his earpods out of his ears and slid them back into their case.
“I saw you talking to her after the show last night. Did you find her and tell her later?” Jungkook demanded through agitated, heavy breaths. “You were with her and Luna at the restaurant just now.”
“I didn’t see her after you left. And all I said to her after the show was that she should talk to you,” Taehyung explained, displaying more patience than most people would under the circumstances. “And I didn’t really talk to her much at the restaurant.”
Slowly—because he was fuming, and the entire bus was red—Jungkook accepted that this was most likely the truth. Your response to him changed after last night, not after the concert. He assumed it was because you’d talked to someone while he wasn’t there, but maybe Taehyung wasn’t that someone.
Again, he remembered Sid. He could still ask him, he supposed, even if he doubted that Sid told you.
But there was a very big problem with this plan. If Sid found out that you knew about the bet, he would immediately amplify all of Jungkook’s problems by claiming that someone broke the rules of the bet—even if Sid was the one who told you.
He’d organise a manhunt, Jungkook didn’t doubt it. Or maybe he’d just blame Jungkook straight away—never mind that the bet ceased to exist to Jungkook the moment he barged into Sid’s room in Amsterdam, and demanded they ended it.
No. It was better to keep Sid out of this.
Jungkook swallowed and shuddered faintly when he felt the bitter aftertaste of everything that he’d drunk last night.
“Did you tell anyone?” he asked Taehyung.
Looking down, Taehyung brought his tongue over his lips. “Well...”
“Anyone other than Luna, I mean.”
“No. You asked me not to. I only told her after I assumed—”
“Okay, well,” Jungkook cut in, guilty suddenly, about forcing his friend into this. “C-could Luna have told her?”
“She could have,” Taehyung admitted. “But she was with me the whole night. And besides, she agreed that it should be you who tells her. That’s what I thought you were going to do last night.”
Jungkook shut his eyes and exhaled so deeply that Taehyung could feel it on his face from two metres away. “I don’t… I was—it would have—”
Interrupting his miserable struggle to construct a full sentence, the older boy reiterated, “we didn’t tell her. Honestly, I assumed that you did.”
Taehyung had had doubts before, but seeing Jungkook’s uncontrollable frustration right now convinced him that you must know about the bet.
Still, Jungkook’s confusion confused him.
It had to be Jungkook who told you. Who else could have?
“Well, I was—” Jungkook swallowed before charging, “actually, wh—what—what right did you have to tell her to talk to me? After I specifically asked you not to tell anyone! She obviously understood that something’s up.”
Taehyung looked offended at the outburst.
But Jungkook couldn’t control himself.
The longer he stayed away from you on the bus, the more he hurt. The more he understood that none of this mattered—not who told you, not what he said to you afterwards.
What mattered was this: he had made the bet. And you knew about it.
And now he wasn’t sure what would happen next and the guilt and the fear and the hurt could not fit in his chest anymore. He desperately needed a real, tangible something to blame his pain on. He needed someone else to be at fault.
“Something is up. And she’s our manager,” Taehyung said. “And you clearly need… managing.”
Childishly, Jungkook retorted, “you don’t know what I need.”
“You told me, because this was bothering you,” the older member said. “I was trying to help you do the right thing.”
Jungkook frowned so deeply that a permanent wrinkle was slowly beginning to form on his forehead. Then, he finally relaxed his face and stopped moving altogether—to breathe instead. And to think.
Perhaps, he thought as he rushed to inhale and exhale as if he was being pursued by the invisible horrors that he had battled last night and this morning—perhaps the look in your eyes that he’d seen today hadn’t come from a nightmare, after all.
It couldn’t have been Sid who told you. And it wasn’t Taehyung. It wasn’t Luna.
You looked at him like it was him.
“It—it must have—it was—” He inhaled and held his breath for one, two, three seconds. “You’re right. I-I must have told her. It was—I did—I-I told her.”
Taehyung watched as acceptance darkened Jungkook’s already hopeless eyes.
“I was really—I still feel kind of drunk, but I was even more wasted last night,” he continued, staring at the floor. He was breathing so rapidly now that he could have powered every streetlight in this whole city if they ran on oxygen and not electricity. “Maybe I was the one who told her. No one else could have, and it—it should have been me anyway, but I—it was—”
“Okay,” Taehyung said, quickly realising the direness of the situation. He put an arm around the younger boy’s shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down?”
Jungkook hadn’t realised he was standing.
He didn’t feel Taehyung lower him onto his bunk, he didn’t feel the soft mattress underneath, he didn’t feel his friend’s hands around him.
All he felt was an oddly familiar tremor taking over his body—as if he’d already been here, shaking uncontrollably in another life.
Taehyung was aware of the predicament that Jungkook was in. Really, he was. But, honestly, he was proud of him for telling you the truth. He probably shouldn’t have felt this way, considering that telling you about the bet was common sense, but he couldn’t help it.
He was glad that Jungkook had chosen honesty—even though Taehyung hadn’t really given him a different choice, and the truth had made the younger boy nearly transparent as his shoulders hunched under his friend’s touch.
Taehyung wanted to believe that this honesty, despite how much discomfort and pure pain it brought Jungkook, signified growth. And with growth came the decision to choose better friends.
However, telling you about the bet and then forgetting about it? That was bad. Taehyung didn’t want to imagine how bad.
He sighed, releasing one breath in the time that Jungkook released ten.
“Maybe you should talk to her. When you’re a little more put together,” Taehyung suggested, hoping that a clear plan of action would calm Jungkook down.
“She won’t talk to me,” he said, and his breaths grew more ragged.
“Ah.” Taehyung raised his head knowingly. He needed a moment to compose himself before he admitted that he knew this would happen—and that Jungkook deserved this silent treatment just a little bit. “Yes. Well… That—that was to be expected, I would think.”
Despite his words, there was a comforting warmth in Taehyung’s eyes that Jungkook missed because he was too preoccupied with fighting his inner demons. He remembered something else—a sharp tension in his lungs, much like the one he was experiencing right now, as he struggled to contain everything that he was inhaling: revulsion and regret, despair and dread.
He had told you. He couldn’t remember it exactly, but he knew he had.
Jungkook managed to raise his eyes.
“W-what—what do I do?” he asked in between breaths.
Taehyung sucked his lips in. “I have no idea.”
Jungkook groaned as he ran his shaking fingers through his hair and pulled away from the other boy.
“For fuck’s s-sake,” he hissed, then took another unsteady breath. “You could—you could try being more helpful, you know.”
“You could try giving me less attitude, you know,” Taehyung returned. “Considering your position.”
Jungkook scrunched his nose irritably but refrained from arguing. His breathing began to slow as he shifted his focus from regretting the past to fixing the future.
“Fine,” he said. “Sorry. Please help me figure this out.”
There wasn’t much that Taehyung could have helped him with, and they both knew it. What Jungkook really needed was just encouragement that this wasn’t over yet. That he could still do something and hope for a positive outcome.
Taehyung contemplated this for a minute. A part of him honestly thought that this might be over. But as much as he valued honesty, he knew that sometimes it wasn’t the best option.
This was one of those times.
Not to mention, there were two sides to this coin.
The first was that you and Jungkook had known each other for years before you began to work together. Taehyung virtually knew nothing about your relationship prior to Rated Riot. He knew nothing of your history together. Maybe there was potential for resolution, after all.
However, the other side of the coin was this: you had an incredible opportunity to work with one of the biggest rock bands in the world. And even though the vocalist of this band was prone to alcohol, he was not prone to toxic friendships—at least as far as Taehyung knew. Not to mention, you hadn’t dated anyone in Reconnaissance, which had to be a massive plus after all that had just happened here. And so, although you said you would stay with Rated Riot, no one would have blamed you if you left.
Taehyung sighed.
This was a very, very unpleasant situation, to say the least.
“Alright. There’s something you should know,” the older boy finally said. “I don’t know if it’s going to be helpful for you, but, um… sh-she got an offer to work with Reconnaissance.”
Jungkook heard the way all the sounds inside the bus and inside his head and even inside his chest suddenly ceased, leaving only a faint buzzing.
He wasn’t sure what was buzzing. Maybe he hadn’t realised he was screaming.
“Wh—what?” he asked after a loaded minute. “She—what? When?”
“I don’t know,” Taehyung said. “I just found out today.”
“So, she’s—what? She’s leaving?”
“I don’t know.”
Jungkook got up from his bunk and spun around, restless all of a sudden, as he ran his fingers through his hair again, messing it up even more. “Fuck.”
Taehyung gave him a moment to process this.
“What do I do?” Jungkook repeated, his breathing uneven again. Taehyung tensed when he heard the panic return to his friend’s voice. He stood up, but couldn’t reach Jungkook as he paced away from him on the bus. “What the f—what do I say? S-she won’t talk to me. Fuck.”
“Give her some time, then,” Taehyung said—quickly. Because he could tell that Jungkook was approaching a concerning new level of distress. “She just found out about the bet. This must have been quite a shock to her. It was shocking for me, and I have nothing to do with this. So, imagine how she must feel.”
“Okay. But it’s—what if she—”
“She’s not impulsive,” Taehyung cut in, guessing the younger boy’s concern. “She won’t just get up and leave. But if you keep pushing right now while the—” He clicked his tongue, looking for a more sensitive word. “—while the shock is still fresh, then you might end up pushing her towards the wrong decision.”
That sounded reasonable. Painful and terrifying, too, but reasonable, nonetheless.
Jungkook slid his hands down his face and spent a minute inhaling and exhaling in two-second increments. Then he nodded and looked up at the other boy.
“Yeah. Okay,” he decided. His head still felt like he had stolen it from a bronze sculpture—heavy, yet completely empty. But he thought he was gradually getting used to the pain. “You’re right. Okay. So, I should wait, right? Just… wait?”
“That’s what I’d do,” Taehyung said. “Wait.”
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And so, waiting was what Jungkook did. For exactly six hours.
By then, everyone had already returned to the bus for the trip to Cologne, and the French bus driver had finished half a pack of cigarettes. You were unaware that it was just you and Jungkook left outside—you were still on the phone with the other roadies—and Jungkook used that to his advantage.
Anticipating your usual excuse of being too busy, he prepared in advance and spoke to the bus driver to find out the scheduled departure time. He learned that he should have enough time to have a proper conversation with you or, at the very least, address some of the drunken confessions that he must have made last night.
He had promised himself to hold off speaking to you in hopes that his mind would clear and he could remember a bit more—anything other than this suffocating misery that still kept him in a relentless chokehold today. But that promise was in vain.
He couldn’t wait.
“I need to talk to you,” Jungkook said as soon as he saw you come out from behind the bus.
Just as he had expected, you shook your head. “Now’s not the right—”
“We still have twenty-five minutes before we leave,” he said.
“It wouldn’t hurt to be ahead of schedule,” you argued, but he refused to move, so you couldn’t reach the bus door. “The equipment team had already left. We have to—”
“Please. Give me five minutes,” he said. “Please.”
As you were beginning to look away from him, your eyes involuntarily lingered on his face for a moment longer, and you felt your heart make the decision for you. You’d give him five minutes.
Really, the ache in your chest was just an excuse, as you realised in a fleeting moment of sober clarity. Your mind didn’t want to walk away from him, either.
He looked hurt—he had no right to look that way, not after what he’d done—but the look in his eyes still cut into your already wounded heart a little more.
You couldn’t remember if he had looked like this last night. All that you could see after he told you about the bet were the dangerous ripples of the ground beneath you and the unyielding darkness surrounding you.
You’d listen to him, you decided. That was all that you could still offer him.
“Fine,” you conceded, realising that you had a weakness, and it was standing right in front of you.
Jungkook inhaled—he’d managed to get his breathing under control in the past few hours—and straightened.
He’d seen this before, he thought. This moment that hadn’t even happened yet already echoed in his mind like a forgotten passage from a book that his grandmother had used to read to him—about heartache and the eventual happily ever after. He was too young for those books, really, he just wanted to be in grandma’s room longer. But he remembered the glistening tears in her eyes as she turned the last few pages, and he, too, found himself rooting for the people in the book.
Surely, then, if this was the painful part of the story—the part where the two characters couldn’t look at each other at the same time—then you had to be approaching the conclusion? The happy ending that he found himself dreaming about for the first time in Paris?
All that was left for the two of you was to resolve it all.
“I was very drunk last night,” he started. “I should have told you the truth before I got drunk, but the way the night unfolded… it didn’t work in my favo—okay, that—that sounds like an excuse. But I want you to know that I had the intention to tell you all along. It wasn’t something that I decided on a whim after I had some drinks.”
“Hmm.” You were staring at your shoes before you pursed your lips and glanced up at him. “And, uh, what about the bet? Was that something you made on a whim?”
Something very unpleasant churned in his stomach. He felt queasy.
“I did,” he admitted. “I was—it was—I thought it would prove a point.”
“Did it?”
“No. All it proved is that I made the wrong choice of caring about what my friends thought of me, when I should have cared about what you thought,” he said. His jaw was clenched, but his face was soft and almost fragile. You looked away again. His words sounded clumsy when you weren’t looking at him, when he didn’t know if you heard him. “I-I’m sorry. I swear I meant it when I said I loved—”
“Look,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t really see the point of this conversation, so maybe—”
“Okay—okay, just—listen,” he said in a hurry, raising both of his hands to the back of his head in a desperate attempt to keep himself together. Reluctantly, you returned your gaze to his. “I-I wanted to say that you can ask me, or say anything to me. I want to talk. Give me a chance to explain.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you, though,” you said, and he felt his heart fall and thrash in the cavities of his chest like a frightened, dying fish out of the water.
He tried to remember if this was what you’d said to him last night—this brutal declaration that you’d run out of words—perhaps right after he told you about the bet.
It would have explained why he felt smothered the whole day—as if your decision to talk to him directly influenced his decision to breathe.
“Okay,” he said, swallowing something sharp in his throat. “Well, what about Reconnaissance?”
Your eyes widened for less than a second before you composed yourself. It confirmed to him that everything Taehyung had said was true.
“How did you—?” you began to ask, but Jungkook didn’t let you finish.
“Taehyung told me. You didn’t—you told everyone, but you couldn’t tell me.”
Despite the twinge of guilt in your stomach, you still thought this was an unfair accusation. You hadn’t told everyone. And Jungkook was the last person who could have reprimanded you for keeping a secret.
“This has nothing to do with you,” you said.
“How—” he started, then cut himself off with a scoff. “You’re leaving, and it has nothing to do with me?”
“I’m not—I’m still here, aren’t I?” you countered, changing your mind about making a promise to stay when chaos roamed free in your mind.
Jungkook recognised the hesitation in your eyes. He felt his anger grow at the possibility that you were genuinely considering this.
“Yeah, but for how long?!” he accused. “I thought—I thought we were finally on the same page about everything, and—”
“Oh!” you exclaimed; the single syllable so full of irony that he stopped talking immediately. “On the same page, are we? Okay, then, let me see if I got everything right here.”
There was that fire in your eyes—the one that he had wanted to see.
He felt equal parts terrified—because he couldn’t predict what you’d say next—and hopeful—because you were finally talking to him—as he watched you instead of replying.
“You made a bet with Sid about us,” you said—short and sharp. Jungkook thought he flinched, but he hoped you didn’t notice.
“Yes,” he said. “And I—”
“He said we wouldn’t get back together, and you said we would.”
Jungkook nodded, his throat suddenly too swollen to speak.
“And if you lost,” you continued. “You had to give up your Katana.”
“Mmhm.”
You paused here, frowning. You weren’t sure if you’d forgotten this part or if he hadn’t mentioned it last night.
“And if you won?” you asked.
He felt an unpleasant warmth wash over him at your question.
“I’d, uh—I would have gotten $10,000,” he admitted, his eyes darting between you and the ground. “And, you know. Uh, also you.”
“Ah.” You nodded. “Double win, isn’t it?”
He cringed at the sarcasm.
You continued to watch him with narrowed eyes, but you couldn’t really see him, blind to everything but the raging fury that swirled inside you, pounding on the walls of your chest to get out.
It wasn’t even the bet that you were mostly angry about, not really. You were angry about his choices in general. About his constant need to do whatever his friends told him to. About his utter lack of ability to stand up for himself—and for you.
You were angry that you were back to where you started, back on the doorstep of his dorm room four years ago, when you said you were done, and he did nothing to stop you from leaving.
You were sure you’d had a point you wanted to make when you brought up the bet a few minutes ago, perhaps to counter his attempts to blame you for not telling him about Reconnaissance. But you didn’t want to make any points anymore.
You didn't even want to speak.
“It really sounds fun,” you commented dryly. “Shame you didn’t win.”
“Y-you’re—but I-I don’t care if I win or lose,” he stammered, anguished by your dismissive tone. “That’s why I told you about it. The bet was a mistake. But I can’t turn the fucking time back, even though I really fucking want to. So I’d rather tell you and lose it than win it and lose you. There’s nothing I want more than—I’m—I just want to be honest. And I was honest. Every time I told you how I felt, I meant it.” He inhaled, rushing to get all his words out before he truly lost you—he saw the way you positioned your body away from him as soon as he mentioned honesty. “I was drunk when I told you about the bet, I know. I shouldn’t have been. But I told you, and—”
“See—no,” you cut him off. “You don’t get to feel good about that. You forgot that you told me.”
“I…” his sentence broke off. “I-I did. Okay. That’s true. And I’m sorry. I was really—I was drunk.”
“You’re always fucking drunk.”
You finally turned away as you groaned and allowed the wind to tangle your hair around the hood of your jacket.
You were exhausted of these same old excuses: either he was drunk, or he was with his friends. Sometimes both.
You thought you’d walked away from all of this four years ago. How had you ended up back in the exact same place? Why did you think it would be different this time?
Sid was still here. And his endless games were still here, too.
“Oh.” You remembered suddenly and turned back around. “Was this what the Paris trip was about? When we went to Kihyun and Chloé’s wedding? Is that why Sid didn’t want me to go with you?”
Jungkook closed his eyes. “It’s, uh… yes. It’s sort of what started the, um—the whole thing. But it wasn’t—I actually wanted to go there with you, it wasn’t—”
You hummed, cutting him off—as if you were a teacher, giving him a test, and he was a student, answering every question correctly, but letting you down every time he opened his mouth anyway.
You didn’t say anything else.
Jungkook thought he was going to burst into flames.
He could tell that you didn’t want to listen to him when he said he loved you. In fact, you made a conscious decision not to hear him.
He was horrified to realise that these past few weeks and all the conversations, all the unsaid words that you finally said, all the closure that you’d welcomed after years of evading it—all of it had evaporated after last night.
You refused to remember these moments, refused to believe that they were real.
He wasn’t just back to where he started when this tour began—back when you wouldn’t accept his confessions. When you tried to explain his feelings for you using the circumstances: a different continent, too many forgotten memories, too much time spent together. And you were right, in part, to have your doubts. He really hadn’t told you everything. But everything that he had told you, he’d meant it.
But now he was much farther back—at the very last row, merely observing your silhouette as you climbed on stage and introduced yourself in a cold, detached voice. Like he didn’t know you. Like he hadn’t spent the past seven years loving you.
One bet. One fucking bet.
And now he was scared that there was nothing else left.
Gripping the stitching on the sides of his dark grey jeans, Jungkook said one more time, “I’m sorry.”
You were looking down as you repeatedly nodded your head—each nod a new dagger in his chest.
“Thank you for that,” you said, letting the sentence falter.
It was clear that you’d meant what you said—you had nothing else to say. He would have liked to hear anything, really, except for the silence that followed.
“W-what can I do?” he asked, afraid that the conversation—that all of your conversations— had come to an end.
You frowned—all of your conversations had come to an end.
“What do you mean?” you asked almost incredulously.
“Well, you’re clearly mad, and—”
“No,” you said. “I briefly flew over mad last night when you pulled me out of the bus at six-thirty in the morning. Now I’m back to normal.”
Biting his lip ring and pulling it into his mouth, Jungkook stayed quiet for a few seconds.
He had expected this to be awful, meaning you’d be angry.
He hadn’t expected this to be worse than awful; meaning you’d stand here, looking at him with a straight face and hollow eyes, almost daring him to apologise again.
Now it’s finally too late, your posture was saying. You fucked up one too many times.
You truly weren’t mad, he realised.
You’d given up.
“And w-what—what is ‘normal,’ exactly?” he asked finally, even though he feared the answer.
You hammered the final nail into the coffin that he’d built himself.
“I’m your manager,” you said. What a great eulogy. “You should get back on the bus. We’re leaving soon.”
He knew he needed to apologise again, but nothing he said seemed to make a difference. You weren’t hearing him—and, honestly, he understood why.
But a part of him still felt frustrated. You had kept something from him, too. There was a risk you’d leave—forever—and he needed conditions; something he could do to make this right. To make you stay.
It was a stupid bet. He never should have made it. It was bad, but in comparison to his feelings for you—and yours for him, before he ruined everything—he didn’t think it was significant enough to make you consider leaving your job.
“You’re right,” he said. “You’re my manager. And you can’t—you can’t leave the band.”
The determination in his tone made you pause.
“I can’t?” you repeated, your eyebrows drawn together in a defiant frown. “And who would stop me if I said I was leaving?”
Fuck, Jungkook thought in a sudden panic. That was not what he should have said. Now you might really leave.
Taehyung had warned him that he might push you towards the wrong decision. And he was doing exactly that.
“You—you know what I mean...” he faltered, discouraged by your resistance. “I-I fucked up, I know that. Tell me how to fix it.”
“There’s nothing to fix,” you said. “Get on the bus.”
He stood still. “Is this how it’s going to be from now on?”
“It’s going to be like it always was,” you said. “Get on the fucking bus, Jungkook.”
He didn’t. You were so close to him now that he could smell your perfume and the apple scent of your shampoo. He remembered himself years ago, hoping that one day, apples would stop reminding him of you.
Now he knew how outrageously absurd it was to hope for this when he was convinced that all versions of him—across all universes—always immediately thought of you whenever they tasted apples.
“Don’t—you can’t start treating me like everything that happened between us didn’t happen,” he retorted—with all the anger that he had at the thought of never having you this close to him again.
“What happened, exactly?” you snapped. “You’ve clearly never bothered to be honest with me for one second until last night, never bothered to even think about me, because you—”
“I thought about you all the time, though!”
“Yeah, because you had no other fucking choice!” you rebutted. “If you didn’t think of me, you would have lost the bet. None of it was genuine—”
“I lost the bet because I was thinking of you,” he defended, furiously waving his hands around.
“Oh! That’s so considerate!” Your laughter was rigid and bitter. “Maybe it’s me who should apologise. I’m so sorry I ended up being the reason why you lost the bet.”
He dropped his hands, groaning. Once again, he realised how terrible he was at telling the truth, and how splendid at saying all the wrong things.
“Don’t—don’t be like that,” he asked, agitated.
You glared at him. “Like what?”
“Just—difficult.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” you said. “I’ll make this very simple for you: we’re done talking about your shit.” You pulled back from him to turn around. “Get on the fucking bus. I have more important things to do.”
Immediately, Jungkook grabbed both of your hands to stop you from leaving.
You turned back to him with wide eyes, and your stunned stiffness gave him enough time to properly wrap his fingers around your wrists.
“Is that your plan, then?” he demanded. His hands were cold, but his grip was loose enough for you to push him away—but the challenge in his question made you wait, frozen in place. “You’re just going to walk away again? Start working with a different band so you won’t have to think about your feelings? Won’t have to face your fears of trying again? That’s your solution for everything, isn’t it? Just fucking walking away.”
He'd touched something—there was a raw wildfire in your eyes now, nothing like the flames he’d seen before.
You yanked your hand out of his grip and took a step back.
“You know what?” you said. “It is. It is my solution to everything. And you want to know something else? This bet isn’t even the worst thing. And that’s the worst thing—the fact that this is just another bullet point in an endless list of shit that you and your friends have done. So, yes. I am walking away. I should have never even come back in the first place.”
Jungkook felt the ground beneath his feet tremble unsteadily at your words—much like his hands by his sides.
Back in Amsterdam, you’d told him that you forgave him for not realising how many mistakes he’d made in your relationship. He’d seen a glimpse of a second chance that night in your hotel room.
He was aware of his never-ending list of mistakes now. And still, he made new ones.
“I’m—I’m sorry, I—”
“Get on the bus,” you said, turning around to face the empty parking lot instead of his apologetic face. “I still need to call the other drivers and check in with the rest of the crew.”
You were doing your job. You were still talking to him. He should have been glad.
Instead, he couldn’t force his legs to move or his heart to keep beating.
“I… Can—can you just—just tell me that you’ll stay with the band,” he pleaded.
Your shoulders were straight as you stood with your back to him, your hands clenched into distraught fists by your sides. He’d once jokingly tried to teach you the proper stance in a fight. Really, it was you who should have done the teaching.
“Get on the bus,” you repeated.
His distress was relentless. “I will. But we have to talk about—”
“We don’t have to do anything,” you argued. “I think it’s better if we stop having conversations unrelated to Rated Riot altogether, if that’s alright with you.”
He watched your back with unwavering determination. “It’s not.”
“Tough. Get in.”
He needed a minute to convince himself to quit arguing, to drain the fight out of his chest. Then another minute to steady his breathing enough to turn towards the bus.
As he approached the door, he looked back at you and caught the way you had glanced at him over your shoulder. There was a dampness in your eyes from the heavy wind. He saw it right before you turned away again.
He swayed lightly on the steps of the bus. “Please, just—”
“Don’t,” you said, and your shaky voice turned the word into a warning rather than an order. “Just get in. We’re done talking.”
With your back still turned to the bus, you heard Jungkook climb the steps, seemingly hesitate once more, and then finally walk inside. The automatic door slammed shut behind him with a dull thud that was almost as loud as the defeated beats of your heart in your chest.
Alone in the parking lot, you finally exhaled all that you’d kept inside and then some. You wanted your lungs to feel as empty as your chest.
For just a minute, you couldn’t be Rated Riot’s manager.
For just a minute, you needed to be yourself and by yourself as you squatted, hugging your knees to your chest.
Your laboured breaths made you rock on your feet slightly as your chest rose and fell at an increasing pace, but you resisted the throbbing hurt inside—you couldn’t cry. You wouldn’t.
In a minute, you’d have to check on the band and make sure all of them were on the bus before leaving for Cologne.
In a minute, you’d have to face Jungkook again and talk to him as if nothing had happened.
You squeezed your eyes shut.
The bet was hurtful. But what hurt even more was your own choice to let it all escalate to the point where losing it all again hurt. Still wanting him, even now, hurt. His unchanging priorities—his friends first, everyone else second—hurt.
You didn’t want to talk to him as if nothing had happened. But you had to.
Maybe it was for the better. The bet was a cold shower, jolting you awake and reminding you that trying again never worked.
And really, perhaps you should have seen this coming. You knew that this was just another one of Sid’s games that Jungkook had willingly participated in. Truly, this was nothing new in your experience and hardly different from Sid dropping Jungkook off at the grimiest bar in town and sending you on a scavenger hunt to find him—night, after night, after night.
You stood up with a sharp inhale.
You’d had enough.
If Jungkook wanted to continue playing, he could do it by himself. You refused to be a part of it again.
However, ending things with Jungkook and ensuring that he didn’t win this bet didn’t feel like your win, either.
It felt like you both lost.
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chapter title credits: bad omens, “the fountain”
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citrustan · 6 months
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for what it's worth [2/4] (jjk)
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pairing: jeon jungkook x reader
genre: angst, fluff (this comes in a bit later), light smut, college student!reader x crush!jungkook
summary: you make an awful revelation about your crush of two years.
word count: 2.3k
warnings: kinda angsty because yaknow unrequited love and stuff like whew i could never
note: im SORRY it took me a year to release this :(
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Every millisecond of the drive back to campus was torturous. At times, you felt like your throat was closing up. You had to sit on your hand to stop it from cracking a window open.
You think you might’ve experienced your first ever anxiety attack.
All Jungkook’s genuine attempts at holding a conversation with you were shot down mercilessly.
It was almost as if all the admiration you had for him turned into pure hatred for a moment.
Terrified that you would break down in front of the man whom you supposedly creep out, you kept your mouth shut the entire time.
You’re thankful for the timing of the universe. Had you proceeded to confess your feelings to him, you’d have humiliated yourself to death. You’d have had to dig yourself a hole and bury your head in it for a really long time. Or hibernate in the blast chiller like a stupid little snail.
Even if you had a minuscule percentage of a chance with Jungkook, Jia has destroyed it all by telling him about ‘your’ crush.
Although he didn’t seem to have recognised you as the ‘creep’, you can’t help but wonder. What if he knew about you? Maybe he didn’t recognise you without makeup? Maybe he panicked when he realised it was you.
What do you know about Jia really?
After unsuccessfully starting a conversation with you, Jungkook was staring a hole into his phone. He knows he has made you uncomfortable. But, which part of whatever he said did the trick?
He panicked. Jungkook wasn’t supposed to tell you (or anyone) about him and Jia, as per Jia’s desperate request. While he respected it, he wondered why. On pushing her for a legitimate answer, she finally told him about the ‘creep with a schoolgirl crush’ and how she was friends with said ‘creep’ and didn’t want to be in her bad books.
Albeit strange, Jungkook assumed it was dangerous for Jia to be publicly known as his girlfriend. He thought that maybe it’d have put a target on her back.
He didn’t mean to blurt it all out in front of you. It was like his mouth had a mind of its own. He couldn’t stop himself from spilling the beans. And then he made it worse by indirectly calling you a creep. He did take it back, but it must’ve been uncomfortable for you regardless.
And maybe that’s why you won’t respond to his attempts to chat.
He really didn’t want to burden you but he has to let you know--- “You know, it’s a relief to finally tell someone about Jia.”
“Hm?” You abruptly turned your head sideways to face him.
“Jia. It feels good to be able to talk to someone about the girl I’m dating. We never really planned on telling anyone actually.”
‘Yeah, while you’re at that, stick a knife in my chest, why don’t you?’
“I bet it does.” You exhale with a forced smile.
Jungkook turns his body towards you, “_____.” He called out. You instinctively make eye contact with him. “Would it be too much to ask if we could keep this a secret from Jia?”
Before you could process exactly what he asked of you, you involuntarily held your breath at the thought of sharing a secret with him. Just the two of you.
And Jia.
You frown.
The thought of Jia breaks you out of your reverie. You have got to pull yourself together.
Perhaps Jungkook wasn’t too far off with the ‘creep’ thing.   
“Whatever you want.” You immediately look away. Honestly, he probably could’ve gotten you to agree to shave your head if he wanted to.
“Really? It isn’t…?” Jungkook trailed off. “It’s okay. It’ll be as if we never met.” You assure him.
Just how far is your stupid university? It feels like forever since you got into the car with him.
“Except we have met before.” He interjects. You don’t know if he’s referring to your very first meeting at the party or the other times you’ve ‘met’ in the classes you share. Either way, Jia knows about it all.
“We sure have. But she doesn’t have to know that. If that’s what you want.” You add, “I don’t want to cause any problems for you. Just tell me what to do and I won’t question it.” With that you aim your eyes straight ahead, focusing them on the back of the passenger seat.
So much for staying grounded. You have GOT to chill. You’re worried you’ll blow your cover.
Jungkook unexpectedly laughs, “Okay. I don’t want to complicate it too much.”
“Jia doesn’t want people to know about us. And I don’t want to lose her trust. So… maybe---”
Your mouth automatically forms a pout. You really don’t want to witness his devotion to her.
“You know what, I’ll handle it. I’ll talk to her and admit I slipped up...” Jungkook waits for your reaction, but you give him nothing.
Now, you begin to feel badly about the way you’ve been acting towards him. He has done nothing to deserve your hot and cold attitude.
Jungkook has been kind to you. He complimented you, confided in you, gave you his jacket, and offered you a ride. The least you can do is not make stuff so difficult for him.
You remind yourself that your issue is with Jia and not Jungkook.
“If you’re that worried, we don’t have to mention this to her.” You meekly add.
“I was thinking maybe I should just tell her. Wouldn’t that be easier for you too?” Hah! You’d think.
You’re about to counter when the driver interrupts, “Non-faculty vehicles aren’t allowed to go any further than this. Is it okay if I dop you kids off here?”
Neither of you had noticed that you’d reached a few minutes ago. Your driver was kind enough to allow you to resolve your dilemma.
Your dorm was a ten-minute walk from the gate. “This is good.” You kindly smile at him.
The driver eyes you from the rear-view mirror, “This is none of my business but from experience, I can tell you that nothing good ever comes out of secrets and lies. No matter how big or small, shit gets messy.”
You and Jungkook share a look and thank your driver.
“I’ll tell her tomorrow.” He nods once, mostly to himself.
The two of you exit the vehicle together.
Something still bothered you. You swore you had a really great time with Jungkook at the freshmen mixer where you were first introduced to each other. Does he not remember you from then at all?
It’d be embarrassing if he didn’t.
What kills you the most is how you stupidly built your crush up in your head. It was just supposed to be just a fun thing for yourself, but honestly, you’re having trouble standing right now.
“Can I walk you to your room?” Jungkook interrupts your chain of thoughts.
Originally, you planned to run away from him as soon as you reached campus, but curiosity pushes your nervousness away. So, you agree to walk with him.
The first few minutes of your walk are spent in silence. It wasn’t pleasant, it was forced and awkward. Even small talk couldn’t have helped it.
Most of your life was planned. You liked having control over the situations you put yourself in. You like knowing what was going to happen the next day. You liked to organise everything. This tension and feelings of uncertainty threw you way off.
You could not bear not knowing. Still, you manage to keep your cool and fake nonchalance. This is only as big as you make it out to be.
At least now you know you wouldn’t need to buy an extra juice box tomorrow.
You made sure to reassure Jungkook that he wouldn’t get into trouble and that he wouldn’t have to worry about you talking to people about it. But, you could feel the discomfort he basically emitted from his speech to his body language.
Unconvinced that he heard you out, you tell him again. “Just so you know, you don’t have to butter me up or anything. If Jia doesn’t want your news out, so be it. I won’t tell a soul.” Because, that’d be super embarrassing for me as well. But you left that out.
Jungkook visible relaxed, with slouched shoulders and an exhale of relief, he turns to you. “Oh, thank goodness. I was hoping to keep this between us. I know it’s a pussy move, I just don’t want-“
“I already told you, it’s OK.” You abruptly cut him off, impatient because you couldn’t hear him get started on liking and respecting Jia, and disappointing Jia, and protecting Jia, or whatever was going on with the pair.
You were a little hurt when he reacted the way he did. Somewhere, you wanted him to admit he was walking you home because he cared about you or found you inciting enough to spend time with.
Why would he care? You’re actually nobody to him. You’re Jia’s _____.
(And he’s Jia’s Jungkook lol)
You continue, “I genuinely do not care.” A lie.
Jungkook stares at you with big stupid eyes. You almost feel bad for him. You know you’re confusing the fuck out of him with your hot and cold behaviour.
“You know what? I forgot I had to see the course counsellor. That’s like, in the other direction.”
Your sad excuse for an escape was welcomed by Jungkook.
“Oh! My dorm’s the opposite to that… building.” He wanted to get away from you just as much as you him. Well, that doesn’t hurt at all.
:D :D :D
I mean, you were doing the same thing to him but your reason was totally different. So, that doesn’t count.
The two of you stopped in the middle of the cold path. “So, okay.” He started, “I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah! See you!” You faked enthusiasm.
After a two second lag, you both awkwardly shuffle around each other.
“Bye!” You abruptly brisk walk in the direction of your dormitory, the very direction you weren’t supposed to be heading to.
Jungkook stands dumbfounded with his hand midway in the air. In fact, he had no clue you were trying to avoid him. He really meant that his dorm was opposite to the counsellor’s office.
Still, he doesn’t think too much of it.
Jungkook checks his phone to see a few text messages from his girlfriend, asking him about his plans for the week.
He promptly cleared his evenings for Jia and continued walking away from the spot you both stood at.
Later that night, while he FaceTimed her, he kept going back to the moment you greeted him. For some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about you; as one would after such an awkward interaction.
Jungkook sneakily prods. “Babe, that friend you keep talking about?”
Unsuspectingly, Jia instantly says your name. “_____?”
“Hm…” He affirms.
After a few seconds of silence from Jungkook’s side, Jia irritably bit her inner cheek.
“What about _____?” She pushes.
“Oh, sorry- lost connection. I was saying I met her today.”
“What do you mean? What for?” Jia’s brain starts creating all the scenarios she was afraid would take place.
“We were stranded at the bus stand so we hitched a cab ride together...” Jungkook trails off as if he’s in deep thought.
“Did she do anything to make you uncomfortable?” She asks, worried.
“No, it wasn’t like that. I offered. I think I might’ve made her uncomfortable.”
Now, Jia was impatient, “Can you tell me what happened exactly? What did she say to you?”
Now, Jungkook was a little taken aback.
“Babe. You know I really like you, right?” Jungkook begins.
Jia pouts, “Where is this going?”
“Just…” Jungkook opened his mouth, deliberately delaying the conversation.
“Kook… something happened?” Jia involuntarily rubs up and down her arms.
He blurts, “I may or may not have told her about us. BUT, but-” – “YOU WHAT?”
Jungkook looks at his screen with wide eyes, “But I only let it slip because I thought you told her. She even said she didn’t care enough to tell anyone.”
“Oh? She said that?” Jia’s brows furrowed, both in concern and anger. Jungkook reads her expression and sighs. “She didn’t say it like that.” He repeats.
“No wonder she hasn’t responded to my texts yet. She’s supposed to fucking proofread my assignment for tomorrow. I’m so screwed.” Jia exasperates. Jungkook tilts his head. Has he really messed up? “I’m sorry, baby. Is it so bad I told her? What’s wrong with her knowing?”
Jia shook her head.
“Jungkook, GOD I wish you were with me. I’m so tense I think I need to be fucked so I can forget this ever happened.”
Jungkook smirked, “Well… I don’t have to be physically present with you to make you lose your mind.”
Jia’s mouth drops open a little. She thinks she might just start drooling at the sound of his voice.
“Now where is that Bluetooth controlled-” – “It’s already on me.” She blurts, knowing exactly what he’s about to do to her.
“Oh? Wow, my girl is so naughty. Is this what you wanted from me tonight?”
And, then you were long forgotten.
Well, until later that same night.
Before dozing off, he spent the remaining of his day replaying what had happened. He thought about the way your mood dropped after getting into the taxi and the way your eyes wandered everywhere but to him. He doesn’t know if you realised it, but you muttered a lot of words under your breath. Some of them being loud enough for him to hear.
Jungkook’s thoughts were zeroed in on you.
His mind went in and out of so many black holes, that he even thought of the possibility of you being what Jia tried to shield their relationship from. Even though they were all afterthoughts, one thing was for sure. You had caught his attention.
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oddinary4bts · 7 months
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When the End Comes | Masterpost (jjk)
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☆summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?
☆status: completed
☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, every chapter contains mature content)
☆genre: breakup!au, slice of life!au, angst with a big A, smut, fluff
☆total word count: 77.9k
☆a/n: this one is for the anon that suggested a breakup sequel in a character ask, you really inspired me to write this whole thing and I'll forever be thankful for you <3
☆Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this whole thing, you are amazing!!! <3 everyone go check her blog out, she has some amazing writing too!!
☆Thank you to @jessikahathaway too!! Your support as I wrote this story meant everything and you really helped me advancing it <3
☆Read The Forgotten Spaces here, the prequel to When the End Comes! It does not need to be read to understand When the End Comes, but I think it still should be read first to have a better understanding of the characters in general!
☆Add yourself to the taglist here! (if you were on the taglist for The Forgotten Spaces, you're already on the taglist for When the End Comes)
☆☆☆☆☆
But love never leaves a heart, where it found it, found it You found it Someday, I'll fall into you That's where I'll be now when the end comes
When the End Comes, Andrew Belle
☆☆☆☆☆
➳Teaser
➳Chapter one: when you break up (9.4k)
Thank you for the years. I had a lot of fun with you.
➳Chapter two: when you try to live apart (8.7k)
Why? Why did she do this?
➳Chapter three: when a wedding forces you close again (17.6k oop)
Ask me again tomorrow. Maybe I'll hate you then.
➳Chapter four: when you try again (14.2k)
Let's try. For real. So no more apologies.
➳Chapter five: when the end comes (15.8k)
You never said yes when I asked you to marry me.
➳Epilogue: the wedding (12.1k)
The only thing is, we already got married.
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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hollyhomburg · 5 days
Text
Before I Leave You (pt.68)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: Your time is running out. minute by minute, breath by breath, kiss by kiss.
Tags: Angst, Hurt (no comfort yet), illusions to past mental health issues and past domestic abuse, mentions of low-self-esteem, internalized shame and self-shaming behaviors, themes of abandonment, speeding, guns, violence,
W/c: 13.4k
A/N: ahhhhh so here we are! i've been dreaming of this chapter since the very beginning of the series! this is like...the ultimate chapter...thank you for giving me a little bit of extra time to sit with it! we've still got a bit to go! there is a little section near the end where the chapter will prompt you to click on a link to play kate bush 😂 if you feel like you'll be distracted by music in the background you don't need to push it- thats just the song that i always heard playing in my head whenever i heard that part playing.
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
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Hobi is sitting on the edge of the nest sipping at his ice water when you come back into the nest room. Someone has drawn all of the heavy curtains over the windows and they pool on the floor at the rim of the room. The plastic pulled up too. The evidence folded and put away for later burning. Like a bad memory or a piece of clothing that doesn't fit right. Shoved in the back of the closet.
The rage and fear and panic are harder to put away. The conviction is not so easy to hide. You can’t put it down the same way that people file their taxes or their children's old scribbles.
You- like a child, have not been able to color between the lines. You- like a child, are messy.
You can’t stop yourself from walking over to him. Drawn to him where he sits nursing his injuries like a moth to a flame. You feel every heartbeat spent in his presence; every breath shared sticky like smoke in your lungs. Every second is savored and every second burns.
You want to ask him if he’s alright, but questions like that seem very pointless now.
Hobi’s not alright- but he will be. He will be okay forever if you do what you have to do. Now that you’ve decided it’s all you can think about. You rarely ever get to know that your last day with someone will be your last day, and now because you know- you look at him a little harder. A little longer.
You wonder what he’ll look like in 10 years and in 20. If he’ll get crow’s feet from smiling so much. If the salt water he loves so much will eventually grow into his features and make him look like something ancient.
You wonder if one day he'll get so many freckles that the tops of his shoulders will be permanently a shade deeper than the rest of his skin- Or if Seokjin’s sunscreen will spare him from the simple pleasure of looking like your favorite thing. Hoseok has always been one part sunshine one part everything else.
He looks pale right now. It hasn't been summer in months and you won't get to see him get all freckly and sun-kissed again.
Growing old is a privilege (you don’t want to grow old) and you’re reminded of that every time you look at his throat and see the bruises there (you wish you and Hobi could stay as you are- like this, in this house- both alive and healing- forever) but you can’t.
You can’t.
You touch his shoulder softly and his head jerks up, body going tense and then slack when he sees it's just you.
It’s quiet up here. The others are just downstairs and they’re making a lot of noise. Hoseok turns, setting his glass of water down on the floor, leaning into your hand in the same movement. It would be cute if he didn’t have black bruises crisscrossing his throat and blood in the whites of his eyes. In truth, every blink only convinces you that this is what you have to do. This is what you need to do.
You know that at any moment the pack is going to come looking for you. That they’ll all come and fill the room with their soothing noises and sweet concern. You're not too worried about finding the right time to slip away. Moonbyul’s given you 24 hours after all.
We didn’t get enough time, did we? I’d have liked more.
Hobi tries to speak and you shush him, he makes a frustrated hum of a noise. You sit down next to him when he tugs you, hand vicelike on your wrist. Your heart is beating really fast. You wonder if he can hear it or at least smell your distress. The whole house is a tangle of distressed scents; your rain, Yoongi’s ocean, Hoseok’s burnt caramel. burning burning burning. It disguises your scent. Hoseok can’t smell how you’re panicking.
You smile at him, and Hobi tries to speak again. unsuccessfully.
“Here your phone-” but Hoseok doesn’t reach for it, he doesn’t reach for anything but you. Pulling you closer to him. His thumb pressed to the pulse point of your wrist, where your skin becomes thin and sensitive. Pulling you until your thigh lines up against his.
The nest up here is the only place in the house that smells somewhat normal, still soaked with your sleepy muted scents from a few days ago (How long will it be until your scent fades from the house?) You take a deep shaky breath, trying to savor it. Hoseok bites his lower lip.
Hoseok starts on your thigh. His hand squeezes it once and then he starts to write. It’s slow going. He can only write one letter at a time but-
“D-O-N-T”
His eyes are positively boring into yours as your breath hitches and you start. “Hobi I-” he repeats it again, writing it out faster. You grab his hand squeezing it. But he pulls it out of your grasp.
“N-O”
You huff, frustrated and close to tears but stealing yourself not to show him your true feelings. How hard this is. You duck in low, kissing over one of the bruises on his neck. He jerks back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. And part of you is just begging him to let it go. You’re half sitting in his lap now all so that he can write out his distress on both your thighs.
“Alright- just stop.” You can hear the rest of the pack on the stairs. It’s getting late, they’ve done all of the cleaning they can manage for today. You can hear Yoongi on the stairway talking to Jin:
“Maybe we should just burn the railing, there’s definitely a bullet or two in it still.”
Jin’s reply is near hissed, utterly scandalized in the way that only Jin can sound. “It is mahogany Yoongi.”
Hobi writes on your thigh, a single tear trailing down his nose. He’s usually a little bit better at keeping himself together but the stress of the day wore him through. Polished all of his usually stubborn edges like the ocean polishes sea glass. He’s too tired to properly argue. Letter by letter as he goes.
“P-R-O-M-I-S-E M-E,” he writes across your thigh.
You have maybe a second before they’re upon you. You have to be convincing. Have to, or else Hobi might tell. You don’t think he’ll get in your way. You don’t want to think about what you’ll have to do if he does.
You dart forward, pressing your lips to his in a way that you don’t really feel, in a way that has him pushing you a little off of him. Trying to reassure him in the only way you know how.
You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying and he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. His fingertips skimming soft across your jaw and your lips. Pressing at the corner of your sad smile like he can peel the fake expression away from your face and have you tell the truth for once.
“I promise, okay? I promise.”
Hoseok is not convinced. He doesn’t believe you all the way. But the pack is up here before he has a chance to write out anything more. Yoongi appears in the doorway, smelling of soap and bleach, a bit of it turning the corner of his shirt yellow where it should be black. His eyes cautious but so loving it takes your breath away a little. He treads softly over to the two of you; like he's worried about spooking you.
The moment between you and Hobi passes when Yoongi's hand curls over the back of your neck and you tilt your face up at him. And he interprets the glassiness there as something else. something more sensitive and more like omegaspace than what it is. you falling through space and time, you dying and drowning infront of him.
He probably thinks Hoseok was just comforting you.
Yoongi’s hand settles softly on the ball of Hoseok’s shoulder too. an equally as tender touch. Long fingers splaying against his collar bones, cradling a bruise there forming. Asking softly, eyes all dark with the anguish and apology of it-
“Do you think either of you can stomach dinner?”
As always, you say you can hot because you want to, but because you know it will make him happy to see you eat. You might not get many more opportunities to make Yoongi happy- you should take this one and savor it.
Yoongi loses that vaguely wounded look in his eyes with every bite you lift to your mouth. His scent sublimating into something sweeter as the night darkens and quiets.
You can tell Hoseok is not convinced of your promises when he stays glued to your side through the whole of dinner. Almost stubborn with how he resists Yoongi’s prodding and Namjoon's. Changing out the cool dressings on his throat and shaking his head at Namjoon’s suggestion that he sleep propped up against the back wall of the nest, where it’s safest. Eyes tracking your movements as you get up and brush your teeth.
His focus remains solely on you, even when Jungkook carries Tae out of the bathroom and places her among the softest things in the nest. When Noodle squirms his way out from under the bed and tries to worm himself in between his legs. Nudging under his elbow with his pink nose.
He wraps himself around you as you get ready for bed. An arm slung protectively around your waist to pull you flush against his front where you couldn’t squirm away without him feeling it and waking up.
It feels like buying time even though you're too distracted to properly enjoy it- the way they try to cheer you up. Everything that they do to try and make things better feels far away like a photograph- a memory just out of reach- the colors a little off.
Jungkook needily wraps himself around Tae and croons soft reassurance into her ear about how pretty her hair looks, how soft her pajamas make her. And would she like some of her skincare routine? Jungkook will do it for her, will pat it across her cheeks, and won't drag it under her eyes to preserve the state of her wrinkles.
Tae answers all his requests with a simple shake of her head. Eyes still frighteningly blank, that 1000-yard stare that you've all seen on your faces at one point or another, that you see in the reflective surface of Namjoon's phone in the nest, discarded and not charged.
Tae's scent is something awful- none of her usual roses and all cinnamon. Does Tae smell more like her old self because that version of her was always afraid? Or was being a boy the first thing she hated and that's why she smells like boy tae now?
You hate it. You can tell the others hate it too. Yoongi drags her close to scent her silly. cheek and neck going all pink from how hard he scents her, and then scents you, and then goes back again.
Jungkook can do little more than cuddle Tae with Jimin, his big hands smooth down her thighs, while Jimin brushes her hair gently- careful not to let the bristles brush her scalp. He's learned how to take care of her over the last few months and he's the gentlest when it comes to detangling. Not like you- who's so used to ripping through your hair without thought.
Up and down their hands go as Jin fluffs the nest around you all. Making the edges of it higher, and more protective of the fragile pups at the center (like fluffy duvets could ever block bullets. In his dreams- Jin’s love is enough to keep you all safe).
Yoongi and Namjoon are only too happy to oblige him with the nest-making and the general fussing. But in between Jin’s request for a hairdryer and another cold cloth for your hands. You catch them watching the door like they half expect some new threat to appear.
Certain things are harder to ignore; like Yoongi sitting on the edge of the nest with a gun balanced across his thigh. Or the heavy thud of a fresh box of bullets, rattling in their acrylic case when Jimin sets them down on the floor. The red shotgun casings lined up in pretty lines- just like Tae’s lipsticks downstairs.
You ask for one of Hobi's sweatshirts and Yoongi puts the gun away to go and give it to you. Hoseok fingers the edge of your shirt stroking over the meat of your hip idly. But every inch of him is taught like he’s going to have to grab you and hold you down. You lace your hand with his and turn to give him a look.
Yoongi’s back with a sweatshirt but it’s Jin who demands to dress you- to guide your fragile and freshly wrapped hands through the holes. Jin pulls it down around your hips with a soft huff before he gets distracted looking at the bruises on your back and side. From getting thrown back into the wall and from an errant elbow. Every time you twist even a little bit- they ache.
A tub of soothing cream that the pack usually uses for the more wanted kind of bruises sits open on the edge of the nest.
The pack moves about in pairs, here and there. Going down to the ground floor in sets of two. Unwilling to let anyone out of sight. There are guns everywhere, Jimin must have let loose his hidden stash of them. A shotgun leans up against the bathroom door. A handgun with an extended stock is always close at hand. There's a larger plan lingering here. You hear it in Jin's soft reassurances. Said hushed over your heads.
"Witness protection isn't as bad as you think it is Yoongi-"
"It won't work- don't you think we know how it works? That won't be safe enough."
"We have at least a few hours, we don't need to make any decisions now."
Jungkook’s scared voice, “Are we really going to have the leave? The house and everything?” A pause. A look is shared between Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi. Jimin's eyes remain focused on Tae.
“Maybe bunny, we have to wait and see.”
“Do we have a carrying case for Noodle?”
“I think it’s in…” Yoongi trails off, but Namjoon answers for him.
“Yeah, it’s in the basement.”
They set about keeping watch for the night. those of you that aren't nursing wounds that is- mainly Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon- Guns remain at the ready and loaded. Jimin will go first, Yoongi second, and Namjoon last.
Jin tries but Namjoon nudges at his chest and growls in a way that has all of your ears perking up. The pack alpha’s commands can’t easily be ignored. Jungkook tries too to convince them too but even Hoseok shakes his head at him. No one is under any illusions of how fragile this peace is.
No one asks Namjoon to leave the Christmas lights on- but he doesn’t shut them off all the way- leaving just one string lit as a bit of a nightlight. None of you are quite brave enough to risk the darkness.
Hoseok stays close by, his hand clutching your wrist more often than not. Even when the pack settles in for sleep. He wraps his arm around your waist and settles in behind you, caging you in.
(Hoseok’s arms are not the prettiest cage you’ve ever been in but they are the cage you’ve liked the most. You think you’ll miss his arms and his hands. They’re so pretty and long, you lean down and kiss one where it’s gripping the nest and he makes a small noise in surprise that quickly gets swallowed by the hungry quiet.)
The quiet is very hungry, every brush of fabric against skin, every slight movement of the pack sets you a bit on edge. You think it will be hard to sleep- wound up as you are.
You don’t think you're even tired until your head hits the pillow and you have to struggle to stay awake. You want to stay up and listen to the sound of your pack, their soft and measured breathing, the sound of kisses shared above your head, the feel and safety of being in the nest. You want to commit the rhythm of them to memory.
Hoseok’s soft rasping breath on the nape of your neck evens out the more that his swelling goes down. It goes from hissing to more of a squeak as the night settles. Tae shakes through her aforementioned panic attack with all of you piled around her. You get your hand on her ankle at least.
Yoongi and Jimin’s shushing is the only punctuating sound in the half-light. Because what can you say besides sweet nothings when you know she has a perfectly valid reason to fear falling asleep?
You savor every little twitch of their trauma-worn bodies as you flit in and out of an uneasy sleep. Every slight sigh and hand on you rousing you. Jungkook, brushing his fingers through your hair. Hobi, pressed along your back like a second skin shifting and trying to tilt his neck to a more comfortable angle.
You get too hot with Hobi wrapped around you like that, eventually tugging at his sweatshirt that you wear and almost purring when kind gentle hands help detangle you from it with a soothing little shush sound so that you hardly have to wake. Yoongi, around midnight.
Yoongi’s thin but strong fingers rub a soothing touch along your jaw. Soothing away a small sad noise you make that has him curling around your front. The sound of Namjoon's low voice as he says something to your mate and then takes his place at the helm of the nest to stand guard.
“It’s okay pup, I’m here- I’m not going to let anything happen to you- not now- not ever.”
It’s unfortunate, but Namjoon can’t let Tae sleep for more than half an hour before checking her pupillary responses, making sure that her brain isn’t swelling. Concussions are no joke and Namjoon does not take chances with his prettiest alpha. He sends her back off to dreamland with a comforting scent mark and a soothing grumble. After the 5th hour when the risks turn nominal, he decides to just let her sleep.
But Hoseok doesn’t sleep, he can’t really. The pain keeps him awake and what with the way that his neck is injured he can’t find a comfortable position. He shifts and settles the whole night. Keeping you close with that arm around your waist every time you squirm so much as an inch away.
He’s restless until Namjoon gets up to get one of Jimin’s painkillers.
He’s resistant even then, half asleep still fighting. Trying to move away and shaking his head at Namjoon. Namjoon mistakes his unwillingness for simple fussiness and not for fear. If Hobi falls asleep it will be substantially easier to slip away- you watch from below as Namjoon props hobi up and pinches his jaw to make him open his mouth, encouraging the alpha to show his tongue with a prod of those gentle hands. His eyes are barely open, exhausted as he is.
“I know it hurts to swallow Hobi but you’ve got too.” Regardless of his shaken head, Namjoon insistently nudges his mouth with it. Soothing his gag with a stroke of his thumb down Hoseok’s Addams apple. A kiss to his lips for being good.
“This will help the swelling go down, you’ll be okay by morning.”
It’s minutes before they take effect. Slowly- Hoseok’s arm melts away from your stomach. His grip on you slackens from the drugs and his breath evens out. You say a quiet goodbye to him in your head and turn around to face him and kiss his forehead.
At least the last time you touch, it’s soft like that. At least the last time you touch him- it’s gentle.
Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon trade-off. A gun shared between the two of them. Perched on the edge of the nest. Eyes on the vacant stairway Infront of them. Listening for every creek and whisper met with a held breath and hand tightening around the gun. Waiting for the violence that you can all feel coming.
You won’t let it hit them; you won’t let it into this house again. Not while you’re still breathing.
When you're sure that Hobi is asleep you roll onto your back and stare up at the Christmas lights twinkling in the dark. You remember watching Jungkook hang them for you. You remember. You'll always try to remember; you promise yourself right then and there that you'll never let the memory slip away. No matter what happens.
You look over at Kookie, face so peaceful in sleep, a pillow hugged to his chest belly down in the nest, cheek squished close to the top of Yoongi's head on your other side. His back rising and falling.
Jungkook has always been a pretty omega. You reach over to him to stroke down the stiff bridge of his nose, to commit his face to memory. When you turn back to Hobi, you do the same, touching across the heart shape of his mouth, the subtle roundness in his cheeks everything. You look around at all of them- your pack, sleeping softly- sleeping safely. Namjoon's wide back, his shoulders that could hold the world up. Unaware that you're watching him.
You’ll remember all of it, every car ride, every trip to the beach. Every joke and jab. You’ll store each of the memories like a found thing in your pocket. A piece of seashell or sea glass.
You’ll take Jungkook’s laughter and store it- a memory to use when you need to remember that it’s okay to be young for a minute more. When you need to look after yourself you’ll remember how Jin did it and follow his example. And when you need to rest and be soft you'll remember yoongi. You’ll remember Tae like a tube of lipstick and see her every day in the color pink. And Jimin-
Jimin has a hard time sleeping. Even when Namjoon takes the last shift. He sleeps with one hand on a gun, spaced protectively in front of Tae. His bad arm unfolded from his sling. Putting his body between her and the staircase. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the knowledge of that when he glances back, just to check and make sure that Tae and Hobi are still breathing. You hide your open eyes from him when he turns, going extra still and feigning sleep.
Namjoon tamps down on his instincts; the last thing he wants is for his scent to go sour and possibly rouse them. But in the quiet, Namjoon's mind has too much room to fan out and overanalyze. Panic is a particularly alluring drug, his mind festers in it. Rolling around in bad ideas the way that Noodle would roll around in a puddle of catnip.
If he got the pack together, put you all in cars, and drove you far far away from here would that be enough to keep you all safe from harm? Or would that only be temporary? Is temporary safety worse when you know what you have to come back to? Or should he just try to talk to these people, barter with them something. Would money be enough? How much wouldn't Namjoon give? 
You are dreadfully similar to him. Only his planning stays in its infancy stage. 
It isn’t all silent. Noises punctuate the night here and there. Namjoon is so on edge that he all but snaps his teeth at the shadows. An alpha on alert.
Namjoon’s ears perk up at every car that dares to drive by your narrow street, the neighbor two houses to the left who leaves for work in the city at 4:05 every morning, right on time. Noodle and the sound of his scrabbly little paws on the stairs, zooming up and down them until Namjoon gets up to scruff him too. 
Your freaking cat does not like Namjoon on a normal day, he's only ever loved you and Hobi and tolerated Tae and Jungkook- condemning all the rest to hisses and claws, but Noodle settles with Namjoon's hand on the back of his neck. "See, that wasn't too hard was it?"
Noodle gives one last half-hearted hiss as Namjoon places him gently in the nest where he stays put after curled up around Tae’s head like a fluffy little hat. Purring and licking at her forehead. All but taunting Namjoon with his yellow eyes. Flinty and knowing in the darkness. Bushy tail flailing every time the alpha glances back.
You think you’re being quiet when you push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Untangling Hobi’s arm from around your waist and pulling yourself to the edge of the bed. He's out cold from the painkillers. Barely even stirring. 
Noodle stirs however, darting from the nest with a small murr sound as if to say, "see- she's awake so why can't I be?" Tail raised high as he prances to the doorway. 
You look striking in the half darkness, a pair of Yoongi’s green flannel pajama pants rolled up several times to fit properly around your hips. A thin white tank top that's almost falling down one shoulder. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the need to hold, the need to protect. He makes a soft noise in his throat and your head jerks in his direction.
You swallow, and your lips look dry, eyes glassy and innocent in their tilt when your mussed hair fluffs over your shoulder. Messy from where Hobi was nuzzling it in his sleep. 
“I was just getting a glass of water.”
Namjoon wordlessly holds his hand out to help you get out of the nest without teetering or disturbing the others. Noodle dashes back down the stairs with a soft meow. Tae sighs and re-settles, smacking her lips and Jimin’s arm tightens. Your mate turns face up in the nest, chest rising and falling, mouth opening like he can taste your scent on the air. 
Namjoon doesn't doubt he can, honed in on you and focused as he always is.
Namjoon doesn’t let go of your hand when your feet find the smooth floor. Instead, he checks the wounds on your hands and verifies that they’re clotting. The margins slotted together properly for minimal scarring (he'd redone the glue-suture after your shower with only gentle scolding). He presses a kiss to the bandages after they're re-fastened. Letting his lips linger there for a second.
Namjoon has always had big hands, warm and steadying as they cradle yours. Small and chapped and scarred.
Instead of continuing on downstairs, you linger for a second by Namjoon’s side. Eating up every breath he breathes, his scent, and the comfort of having him nearby. Something you know you won’t have forever. (Somehow- you know that this will be the last time that Namjoon holds you. You can wait one minute more. You can give him one more minute). He sets the gun to the side and pulls you between his legs.
“Joonie?” You ask.
Your pack alpha wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles forward, rubbing his spiky head across your midriff. Nose nudging the dimple of your belly button and the slight pudge there with a quiet happy growl.
Namjoon will never not be happy that he can see the evidence of the pack’s love on you. Will never not feel proud of you and how far you've come. He nuzzles, resisting the temptation to bite and nip with a breath let out through clenched teeth.
Namjoon feels your quiet laugh against his cheek. Your warm soft skin swelling with laughter. Namjoon’s face is blushing red when he pulls back to look at you in the darkness. Corralled in the safe circle of his arms, fingers digging into your hips and squeezing.
“What are you doing alpha?” 
“Just thinking- just-” Namjoon’s voice gets so much lower in the nighttime, it's a gravely growl. A sound that paints pictures of lightning and clouds hovering low like a blanket.
“When all of this is over, I want to go somewhere new.” Namjoon's hands tighten on your waist. fingers pressing to either side of your spine, thumbs sitting on the soft bones of your hips. “-With you. Just you. Just the two of us. Maybe.” Namjoon fights back a fresh blush at the confused cock of your head. “Maybe- like- a fancy Airbnb? Or something? Would that be fun? Would you like that?” 
You pause, humming. Indulging Namjoon in this as he holds you, fingers rubbing endlessly up and down the sensitive small of your back. Eyes wide and imploring like a child. 
You're only too happy to forget for a second and imagine. What would happen if you didn’t leave tonight? What would happen if you found some way out of this?
It’s easy to go further than just thinking about a simple weekend getaway. You Imagine far into the future; a day that you'll never see. A future with Namjoon and the pack. It hits you with such a profound heartache when you think it that you half expect to look down and see your white tank top speckled with blood. The ache so keen and visceral but- 
Namjoon would be a good father. 
He’d be kind and patient. He’d never snap. He’d never yell. For a moment that’s all you want to think about- not a stupid weekend but a lifetime. A family. A world where you’re never yelled at, where you don't have to be afraid, where nothing is hard, and even if it’s hard you do it together.
If you had pups, you know Namjoon would treat every skinned knee like it was surgery. Would never tell them to walk it off or say it wasn’t that bad. You know that he’d go through every tea party with gusto and stay up late to help them with their homework. That he’d struggle to say no but that you might never need to. It would be lovely- getting to give something small and innocent so much safety. It would be nice to have pups with Namjoon.
You can’t say you don’t want it, but you know in that moment that you won't get it. You'll never get to see Namjoon be a father- even if the pups aren't yours or are just his and Jin's. You’d love them all the same. What use is it to Imagine things that you’ll never get? What good are dreams like this but to tease you, just out of reach. 
Namjoon nuzzles into your stomach again. His nose drawing soft circles just under your belly button. 
You’d be a shit mother anyway. Too fragile. Too nervous. Too hurt. Too much of everything. You'd fuck them up just by being you. You'd fuck them up the same way you've fucked up this perfectly good pack. You've brought nothing but destruction upon them. The evidence of your wreckage is everywhere. The bullets in the ceiling, the blown apart door. Your hands and Hobi's throat. All of this is because of you. 
You snap back to the present, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You’re gnawing at your own leg to survive. All things that bite cannot resist it. What good does hope do at the end other than to hurt?
You can't resist asking Namjoon for more, curled around you like a protective barrier to keep out all the world's hurts (or to keep you in). 
“If we went? Where would we go? If we made it- What would it be like Joonie?”
Namjoon rests his chin on your belly button and looks up at you. Completely unaware of the longing tearing its way through you, of what you’re thinking about. Not just one trip or one year, but ten or twenty or thirty. 
“Maybe south, to see the cherry blossoms?”
“We couldn’t go, not without Tae- cuz of the pink, and Hobi- cuz of the flowers”
Namjoon nods, agreeing. “Yeah- she does really like anything that’s pink.” There is a Tae-shaped smile on his face, you can feel it stretching your lips too. But he shakes it off, head bowed before you. Eyes closed against the image. 
“Still, somewhere safe and quiet just for us, just for you and I to take a deep breath and-” Namjoon trails off, looking up at you. His eyes sparkle with the idea of it, all the little moments he’s picturing.
A private morning where he wakes up to just you. Where you hog his warm spot and his pillow in the chilly spring air. Your cold toes pressed to his shins with nothing to do but appreciate each other and take your loving slow and intentional. Your body and his body and all the space and laughter that you want in between. An idyllic picture of two young people quietly in love. Gently in it.
After almost losing all of it, he wants the chance to properly appreciate you one-on-one. The others too- but they’re asleep, and sleeping vessels cannot reply to Namjoon’s daydreams. You are the only one awake.
(In Namjoon's fantasy, he'll give each of his packmates a different trip. every one of them even if it's just the ones he's recently almost lost that have him thinking of these particular plans.
Hobi would want just a day trip. Namjoon knows the alpha doesn’t really like to be separated from the pack for all that long, a few hours sure. Maybe to some vintage stores that he’s been eyeing to the city or the botanical garden.
Seokjin he’d take somewhere grand and big and full of adventure, maybe to 6 Flags or something. Jin likes to be reminded that he’s allowed to be a kid again, that he doesn’t always have to look after everyone all the time. That he has Namjoon to lean on.
Tae, he’d take somewhere gilded just as she is, like teatime at the Ritz- or maybe abroad to the castle of Versailles. The hall of mirrors and a million pictures of Tae in pretty dresses, twirling. In Namjoon’s head- he watches her turn and flutter slowly like a top. Spinning and spinning).
But none of that is quite your style. You don't really crave outings or adrenaline or gilded things. Your wants are much more simple maybe- because you've always known how priceless quiet and peace is. Gentleness is all you've ever really wanted- not excitement or acclaim or ego.
“A little cabin somewhere in the mountains, a spot for just us. We wouldn’t even have to do anything, A staycation. A night or two.” As the world spins on, you are who Namjoon craves to be still with.
You swallow hard, lingering, still half leaning over him still. Letting him nose at your jaw and purr.
“That would be so nice Joonie."
You swallow, throat thick with something. You lean forward pressing a kiss- too brief, to his lips, Namjoon’s lips part and he breathes gently. You blink back the glassiness in your eye and hope that Namjoon dismisses it as the light from the moon streaming through one of the skylights. All white and black. Wrenching you through something that feels like film. You commit the feel of him and the sound of his voice to memory and then pull back.
“I really need to get a glass of water.”
Namjoon shifts to get up, to come with you, but you just laugh at him and push at his shoulder, he flops back onto the bed.
“I can go on my own Joonie.” He grumbles but stays put. Nosing at the goosebumps on your arms and leaning to retrieve Hobi’s sweatshirt from where you left it in the nest. It smells like sleeping pups and Jin. Milky and soft and safe. Namjoon’s body shivers happily when he sees you put it on.
You squirm out from between his legs. His palm stays wrapped around the tips of your fingers. They slide out of his a little, and then all the way.
“It’s not safe.” You heave a tired sigh, what he thinks is a tired sigh but is actually you trying your hardest not to cry. You lean over him to grab the gun from where it’s rested against the nesting barrier. Getting your phone while you’re at it and sliding it into the pocket of your sweatshirt.
“Is that better?” Namjoon grumbles but still lets you go. Sitting there on the edge of your nest and guarding the others. You look back at him from the top of the stairs and smile.
The house is quiet, with no creeks on the stairs and no winds blowing across the roof. No sound at all in the house beyond your quiet footsteps that Namjoon listens to as you go down the stairs.
Feeling every second of your distance like the sluggish beat of his heart, thump thump thump. Namjoon looks back to look at his pack. Their bodies curled and resting, so gentle in sleep. After a few minutes, there are footsteps on the stairs, small soft ones.
Thump.
“They’re so beautiful” Namjoon comments to you. Waiting for reply.
The silence gnashes its teeth, still hungry.
When Namjoon turns back, it’s not you standing at the top of the stairs- just Noodle with his tail raised high. His yellow eyes glow almost florescent in the darkness, meowing and hissing so loud it might wake the others.
“Noodle, quiet.” The cat just doesn’t quit, batting at Namjoon’s ankles, claws and all. “Noodle- hush.” He scoops up the fussy cat, but Namjoon’s only reward is some claws to his forearms and some more squirming.
Downstairs, he hears a sound that makes him pause. Instincts going from at peace to on edge.
Thump
The front door opens and closes softly with a soft click of the metal doorknob.
Thump
Namjoon goes to the top of the stairs, holding Noodle in his arms before the cat squirms and falls to the floor with a thud. “Pup?” he calls, hushed. You don’t respond. Only silence greets him, sated at last.
Thump, breath, thud.
Namjoon waits a moment, listening for a response that doesn't come before he goes down the stairs, Noodle nearly trips him on the way down, hissing and pacing back and forth in front of the door. The ground floor of the house is completely absent of you- absent of anyone friend or foe. The room is soaked in the blue darkness of morning that is not quite dawn. The white countertops are unassuming and the plates stay in their places.
Thud.
The couch still has its dark spot from where Jin cleaned it. The tangerines are safely in the bowl back on the counter shining like several small suns or planets. Everything is empty empty empty.
Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud
Namjoon checks the shoe rack. Your sneakers are missing, the same ones that match Hobi's and usually sit side by side with his. The spot where they should be empty.
Thud
Your wallet is missing from the bowl just inside the door.
Thud
Namjoon looks out onto the street and finds it empty.
Thud thud thud
Namjoon does not panic, Namjoon does not head out onto the street and chase you down- maybe he should have. He should have done any number of things. The sun is just barely rising turning the sky into that honey blue-green color and Namjoon just stands there and stares.
Namjoon is frozen. What kind of alpha is he- why kind of alpha freezes instead of fights or flights?
Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud
A few minutes pass and something must tip off the packmates upstairs- either the empty nest or the sound of Noodle yowling and quite literally trying to bite Yoongi's ear off.
The next thing Namjoon is aware of is Yoongi is on the stairs, looking pissed off, looking terrified. almost falling down them with the speed at which he descends.
He takes the stairs down two at a time, colliding with Namjoon at the bottom of them. He looks like a puffed-up cat, hair wild and eyes equally as glaring as Noodles when he shakes Namjoon, just a little. “Where is she? Namjoon? Where did she go? Where is my mate!?"
Is it Yoongi's scent- acrid and angry- that knocks him out of his stupor? Or is it the top of his ruffled head almost colliding with the bottom of Namjoon’s jaw when the beta shakes him again.
Namjoon stutters, panic making him inarticulate. So scared he repeats it twice. "I don't know- I don't know, I- she said she was just getting a glass of water. I swear-"
Yoongi's fists tangle in the front of Namjoon's shirt. He sounds sick with it. Voice twisting in pitch.
"You were supposed to keep an eye on her- you weren't supposed to let her out of your fucking sight.”
There are other people on the stairs, roused by the sound of raised voices. A lone light flicked on sends everyone into yellow chiaroscuro. Namjoon is still staring at the street, heart thundering quicker than your footsteps as you run. The streetlights wink out behind you as you go. Fleeing with the night and bowing under the weight of oncoming daylight. Running as fast as your body can carry you.
Could he catch up if he started running now?
It's Jungkook, his dark hair pushed up at the side where it rested against the nest, who asks, “What happened?What’s going on?”
Tae’s eyes dart between Yoongi and Namjoon, her pink silk dressing gown wrapped tight around her shoulders. “Where’s the pup?”
"Yeah Namjoon, where the fuck is my mate??" Yoongi grits his teeth, shaking Namjoon so hard it almost knocks him off his feet and sends him careening a little into the narrow dresser table that the pack keeps by the door for gloves and mittens and keys and wallets.
“I don’t know, I don’t-"
Jungkook and Tae have just spilled out from the stairs into the entryway when Yoongi’s hands hit his shoulders, pushing and then digging into Namjoon’s skin. He’s shaking so hard he can hardly speak.
“You were supposed to be watching her. You were supposed to make sure she was safe-”
“Yoongi- hey- Stop” Tae’s not shaking anymore when gets her hands on his shoulders pulling him away from namjoon where he simmers. Jin is still asleep upstairs. Hasn’t been roused by all the tense voices. Too tired from yesterday- from staying up to scrub blood with Yoongi.
Jungkook skitters to the door as Jimin and hobi descend the steps. nearly bouncing on his heels as he opens the front door letting in a gush of cold air. “What are we waiting for? lets go."
Yoongi's face crumples. “I don’t get it, where did she go- why would she have-”
Hoseok swallows but talks softly, the swelling’s gone down enough even though the bruises look a million times worst in the sunlight streaming through the window. It’s not even 6am yet. His soft hiss is gentle, but the pack pauses to hear it.
“A deal- I think she made a deal.”
It's the first words he’s been able to speak since the attack. Vocal cords straining with every word. Everyone quiets to listen to Hobi. Jimin’s got the shotgun in his hands. He leans it up against the doorway. The heavy thunk punctuates the shocked quiet- but hobi continues.
“When the man was here- she tried to barter our lives with hers." Everyone looks to Tae. And her eyes lower to the floor.
“She did say that but I didn’t think she was serious, I just thought-”
The conversation is a flurry, everyone talking over each other as conversation explodes. Yoongi's face twists from devastated to enraged. “Jesus fucking Christ- that stupid stupid-”
Jungkook clings to Jimin's t-shirt, “What are we going to do? Hyung- what should we-”
Jimin hasn't spoken a word yet, and softly draws Jungkook's hands away from his shirt. “Where would she even have even gone?"
“Did someone pick her up?” Hobi’s words seem to ring out, even though his voice is so fragile.
Namjoon shakes his head. “No- I was listening, I didn’t hear any car in the road- not for like the whole hour.”
“So, you were listening enough to hear the street but not to stop her from literally walking away from us, great. Good to know Namjoon.”
“Yoongi that is like- the opposite of helpful.”
“There's still the matter of where would she have gone. She didn't take a car-” Hoseok looks up in Tae’s direction. She sees the realization light across his face.
“Hobi?”
But Hoseok ignores her, lurching to the small cabinet by the front door; the pack’s drop-off points for their keys, their wallets and your fuzzy little purse from your first ever date with jimin and tae as well as a good slice of Tae’s collection of little red pocketbooks. They keep their things this way because Namjoon loses his keys at least once a month a nd having a communal spot always helps the general disorder of having 8 people live in one house.
Hoseok scrambles not for your wallet but for his.
He reaches for his wallet. Opening it and searching but-
The train ticket is gone.
Your train ticket- the one that you gave Hobi for safekeeping so many months ago is missing from where he usually keeps it in the last slot. Right next to that folded poem of Tae's and an old gift card. In its place is just a simple folded note, a new piece of paper that hasn’t been worn soft at the edges yet. Torn from the same pad of paper that Jin writes the grocery list on. Hoseok’s hands shake as they fish it out. 5 words that aren’t nearly enough.
I’m sorry, I love you.
You’d never told him that- that you loved him. Not after you’d had sex and he’d confessed. Not in the tangle of moments that followed with Jimin bloody and the pack breaking. You’d never spilled your heart to him that way. In the back of his head, he realizes that there just hadn’t been time.
This is the first time you’ve told Hoseok you love him and maybe the last. Hoseok’s heart beats quick. She loves me. Thump. She loves me. Thump. She loves-
Hoseok shoots off like a bullet out the open door, thundering across the porch slats. Too fast for the rest of the sleepy pack to properly anticipate and follow. Peering out after him, a little sluggish and a lot shocked. His socks skid and slip as he tries to arrest his momentum and almost falls as He doubles back for his shoes.
The rest of the pack stares down at him blankly as he tugs them on, sprawled there on the floor just outside the door. Hands shaking too much for bunny-eared loops. He doesn’t even bother to lace them before he’s lunging for his car keys in the bowl too. Nearly knocking over the table in his haste.
“The train station- she’s going to the train station.” He gasps.
The words you shared that night ring in his head, playing on repeat. Like a record that’s been scratched too many times. He’s replayed those moments too many times. He’s not sure if he remembers it correctly.
“Give me one chance, let me try to convince you to stay and if I can’t- then I’ll let you go, and I won’t tell Yoongi what train you took.”
The countless times you’d joked with him after that, the moment so light that Hoseok didn’t notice the weight behind them.
“You still got that train ticket?”
“Of course I do.”
Hoseok never thought that you’d use it. He thought that the ticket would have stayed frayed and pretty in his wallet until you framed it or something. Until you could look back on it and laugh and say things like “remember that night? Remember how it used to be before we loved each other?”
“No, I don’t, can you remind me?”
This is not that, this is not the future that Hoseok had imagined for the two of you. This abject terror. Suddenly Hoseok is unmoored, suddenly he is falling. Usually, you can see the end from a mile away. Is it worse if you lose the person you love because of circumstance or because they decide to leave on their own? Hoseok never thought you'd actually do it.
Hoseok thought your promise last night meant something. Later when he’s not so scared he’ll remember that he’s angry about that.
The rest of the pack explodes too. Jungkook doesn’t bother to put on his shoes- just heaves Hobi up by his shoulders and pushes him towards his car. Yoongi snatches both of their pairs from the floor and joins them. Cold feet on the small pea-gravel driveway. Jimin darts forward wrenching off his arm sling regardless of Namjoon’s protests.
“I’ll drive” Jimin doesn’t have to wrestle with Hoseok’s keys for long. Even with his hands numb Jimin is still the best driver. He won’t pull corners or care about hitting curbs. He reeves it with a roaring purr while the rest get in and looks at Tae in the rearview mirror. Standing on the porch looking breakable and not all there still. Her eyes on his have that same peculiar weight, the same weight that makes Jimin’s blood sing with purpose.
If there was ever someone that Tae needed, it was you. Not Jimin. He will haul you back from the edge of hell if he needs to, for her. because this is not the ending that you and tae deserve. Jimin will tear you from hell. Teeth and sin and all.
Jungkook has barely shut the door before Jimin peals out, reversing until the tires screech against the asphalt and leave dark lines in their wake. Tire tracks, strings of fate, shoelaces. He shoots off down the street and out of sight, knocking over a trash bin with a clang and leaving Tae and Namjoon back on the porch.
Hoseok knows the name of the station you were most likely to go to but not how to get to it. It's an 15 minute walk, maybe a 10 minute run and it's already been 8 since you left. Jimin points his car in the direction of the main road while he pulls it up on his cell phone.
With every sharp turn Yoongi and Jungkook slosh in the back seat and hit into each other. Some early morning commuter honks his horn at Jimin but he doesn’t even see them. The scenery flickering by and the asphalt melting away underneath the wheels of Hoseok’s red car. The small grey towns melt away, Break lights bleeding less than they should. The engine stutters and engages but no one cares about the uneven acceleration. Hoseok would total this car in a heartbeat if it meant getting you in time.
At the straightaway Jungkook stoops to slip his feet into his shoes, Yoongi holding his shoulder. The phone in between them slides on the leather seat, spitting out its electronic voice, overly cheerful.
"Re-routing!"
“Wait Minnie- go left.”
“Fuck!” Jimin makes the turn just barely, sparks skittering and burning out as he goes over one of those tiny reflective dividers. Hoseok curses every pothole for damaging their momentum and slowing them down.
“Are you sure? Are you sure that it’s this station that she'd go to?” Hoseok’s heart is thundering in his ears, beating furious and fast.
“Almost positive.” Yoongi holds onto the back of Hoseok’s chair to keep himself in place.
“We have to get to her before she gets to the city. Can’t you go any faster?” Jimin jerks the wheel around a flashy BMW. Almost hitting them with how close he gets. Jimin lets the speedometer answer Yoongi's question. Pushing 60 in a 35 and then 70.
Your note is crumpled tight in Hoseok's fist, a tiny bit of yellow paper that he unfolds and looks at before shoving deep within the confines of his jacket.
Yoongi is not looking at hoseok when he says his next sentence. Hoseok's not even thinking about his old pack, he's just thinking about the fact that you love him and he never got to hear you say it. Not when Yoongi pulls himself almost between his and Jimin’s seat and repeats the same to Jimin again, the same only different.
Thud.
“We have to get to her before Moonbyul does, if she gets to her- I don't know what I'll be able to do Minnie- even with the power that I have Moonbyul still has more-”
Hobi’s flinch is visceral, jerking like he's shocked.
He turns around to look at Yoongi as Jimin blows through a stop sign and then a red light. Jungkook winces and doesn’t say anything. Pushing Yoongi’s shoes across the seat. “Hyung- you should get ready to run.”
Hoseok and Yoongi look at each other. Hoseok's turned almost all the way around in his seat to stare at Yoongi- more specifically Yoongi’s mouth. He’s not sure if Jimin’s painkillers would make him hallucinate but that’s the only logical reason his brain can come up with after hearing that name- her name- come out of Yoongi’s mouth.
“What?"
Jimin's voice is deathly quiet. "Hoseok- turn the fuck around. If I get into an accident at this speed you will die if you're not facing forward to the airbag."
Hoseok turns back to face the road. Jimin grips the wheel so hard his knuckles are white. “Thank you.”
The sunlight is just cresting the tops of the trees. Dotting the scenery blue and yellow. Hoseok’s ears are ringing with her name.
Yoongi pulls himself closer to Hoseok, hands still gripping the headrest, the only thing that keeps him from bobbing and moving with the movement of the car. Eyes locked on Hoseok's face in the rearview mirror.
"I said something- I said something and you're having a thought."
"I fucking hope so-" Jungkook's quip goes unnoticed. Unnoticed through the volley of honking horns as the red car tares through the street. By some miracle, they haven’t passed a cop car yet.
Hoseok looks in the rearview mirror, at Yoongi’s face. Biting his lower lip. “It’s nothing just that name.”
Hoseok looks at Yoongi and all he can think about is how he'd never said- he'd never told Yoongi their names. Saying them or even thinking them reminds Hoseok too much of his own begging. What kind of alpha begs for an omega to hurt them- to stay?
Yoongi just about puts himself in the front seat of the car as Jimin breaks hard to navigate around a tractor-trailer. Riding on the shoulder, the rumble strips vibrating all of them hard and roaring just like Hoseok’s blood thundering through his ears.
“Moonbyul? Moon Byul-yi? You know it?”
Hoseok shivers, the reaction of his body route, unavoidable. Jarring. Trauma builds itself into your bones whether you like it or not. Triggers are not so much a part of you as they are a light switch that makes the worst parts of you turn on.
"Yeah- I do. It’s the name of my ex-pack omega.” Now it’s Jimin’s turn to be distracted, and he almost gets into an accident for his troubles. They’re silent for a second, Yoongi and Jimin look at each other.
“It could be the same name.”
Yoongi scrambles for his phone on the seat right as Jimin makes a turn and it goes flying. He finds it underneath Hoseok’s seat, hands slippery with sweat on it.
“Hang on, I think I have a picture of her somewhere.”
Yoongi scrolls all the way to the back in his phone. Switches to Instagram, going back and back and back through time, and then he's sticking it in Hoseok's face.
Seeing her face feels like Yoongi’s slapped him. Her face is on Yoongi's phone. Why is her face on Yoongi’s phone? Her hair is longer than it was when they dated, she must not have cut it since. But it's definitely her.
Hoseok feels like he's spinning, it's been so long since he's seen her face but it's definitely the one from his nightmares, the one he sees grinning and crooning false praises that have stuck to Hoseok's soul like glue. The face that he sees behind his eyes and sees in every criticizing comment only on his bad days. She's standing shoulder to shoulder with Yoongi, both of them in black suits along with a man that looks enough like Yoongi for him to guess that that's his brother, your ex-husband.
Your abuser and his and Yoongi in between them. Hoseok can only hear ringing in his ears, he knows he sounds accusatory when he snaps. "How the fuck do you know my ex-pack omega?"
“She’s my cousin. Are you sure that's her?”
Hoseok feels like he’s spinning. “Yeah, I'm sure.”
“I thought you said your old pack was all omega’s?” Yoongi knows Hoseok’s lore, knows it like he knows the back of his hand. He looks up, hair falling across his face. Hoseok frowns jabbing his finger at the phone.
“I did. She’s an omega.”
The dissonance hits him and Yoongi almost wants to disagree but then-
Hoseok watches the lightbulb go off, Yoongi’s eyes widening imperceptibly as he paws at the phone and Hoseok’s hand. The car sickness lurches in his stomach as he turns to look back at Yoongi, and the g force hits him as Jimin takes another turn Impossibly fast. The seatbelt across Hobi’s chest engages with a click, digging into his skin and the bruises on his neck with a painful jerk.
“Are you sure? Hoseok- you have to be sure.”
“I’m sure.”
This is all a game of leverage. A game of who knows what secret and what gets exchanged for whom. Yoongi spent most of last night wondering about Moonbyul's motivation, and now he knows why.
Hoseok is holding onto Yoongi’s phone, they’re hands gripping it together. “Is this who she’s going too? The one who tried to kill us? Is-” Hoseok has to swallow to get the words out right. “Is Moonbyul the one trying to take her?”
“Yes.”
Hoseok shivers, eyes darkening, scent spiraling wildly. His muscles trembling as he thinks about it. You and Moonbyul.
Yoongi pulls himself around Jimin’s headrest. Hand on his throat, digging into his scent gland. He doesn't have time to explain to them.
Only alphas can lead the family, only alphas can rule. If Moonbyul isn't one- that calls into question the legitimacy of her rule. The families would never stand to see an omega on the throne, she'd be ousted, probably killed for daring to lie. The families would tear her apart piece by piece and Yoongi would let them.
If Moonbyul is the person who hurt Hobi- and now she's going after you- that's two people that Yoongi loves that she's directly hurt. Yoongi is thinking all sorts of dangerous things. But they have to get to you first.
If Moonbyul isn't an alpha then Yoongi's just found his leverage and maybe the whole reason why the pack was targeted in the first place.
A packmate for a secret. Yoongi imagines the worst-case scenario; Don't tell and I won't hurt her. Don’t tell anyone and she lives.
How long had she stewed and festered- knowing that Hoseok was out there- knowing that he knew the secret that could lead to her undoing. Maybe she thought his knowing would never come back to bite her, and had intended on tying up the loose end later. Maybe she didn't know Hoseok had found his way into Yoongi's arms until after the old Don and Beta had died. She probably thought that they’d never put it together- at least not until it was too late.
Whatever her reasons, this has gone on long enough.
Yoongi opens his mouth, but Hoseok’s body is taught like a spring-loaded and ready to burst. His voice a near growl.
“Jimin, I need you to drive.”
~-~
Tae and Namjoon are left standing there on the porch. Namjoon left staring after them as they hurl away from the house. Running his hands through his hair hard. Thinking of what to do until-
Tae tugs on his sleeve, “Your phone- Joonie- you should call her.”
“Right- fuck-” Namjoon goes and gets it, and comes back to stand with Tae on the porch. “Come on- come on pick up.” Namjoon paces back and forth on the front porch, the snowmelt from the roof drips out an uneven rhythm onto the railing. the cold spray hitting his stress-warm skin.
Tae stands by the door. Frozen, a statue of Namjoon’s distress. Inside, Namjoon hears a voice. Jin coming down the stairs, probably roused by the sound of the car screeching out of the driveway and down the road.
“Tae? Where is everybody?”
“Pup’s being stupid. The others left to go get her before she’s like- really really stupid.”
Jin freezes in the doorway, fist rubbing his eye. He sounds smaller and younger than Namjoon’s ever heard him. “Am I having a bad dream?” namjoon's pacing stutters and then starts up again. Jin doesn't need him right now, Jin he can help later.
Tae takes Jin's hand and leads him to the outdoor furniture. The cushions have to be damp but they sit anyway. Tae pulls her knees under her and rests her cheek on Jin's shoulder. “That’s what I thought too at first.”
Namjoon almost sobs when he hears it- the click of the dial tone and a single breath. He can hear the thud of the train in the background, the hiss of pressure against the scratchy speaker.
“Pup? oh thank god, stay where you are- the others are-”
“Namjoon? Joonie stop- I didn’t pick up so that you could convince me to come back. I only picked up because I never said goodbye.”
Namjoon freezes, and he feels like the snowmelt from the roof has just dripped down his back. Growing frigid more with each word. If there was ever a question on if you’d gone willingly or been taken- it was answered with that.
“Pup, come home right now or I swear to god-”
“No! For once you’re going to listen!” You’ve only shouted at him a handful of times and he’s hardly ever heard you sound so serious.
"No- you can't-"
“Namjoon, The second you say anything to try and convince me to stay is the moment I hang up, so what is it gonna be?”
Namjoon goes silent and stops his pacing. Holding the phone so hard it feels like the plastic and metal might break.
Namjoon’s very being hinges on every syllable you say, Like the ocean hinges on the moon. Water tethered and kept from the shore by something as simple as gravity. Tae is right there. Tae is watching the driveway not saying anything with that same blank look Namjoon has seen on your face countless times.
All at once Namjoon is reminded of you in the summertime back when he first met you and trauma had you all quiet. Staring off into space in much the same way. Small and fragile and worth saving. You’ve always been that for him; worth saving.
Jin scrubs a hand across his face, clearing himself of the last little bits of sleep. He holds out his hand for the phone, but Namjoon doesn’t give it to him just paces right by him as he listens to you.
“I only picked up the phone because I have some things that I want to say to you.”
You sound more settled and less angry but just as resigned and convicted of what you're doing. Like no part of you doubts your choices. Namjoon wishes you sounded angry, that you sounded sad, but you don’t sound like any of those things.
“I'm not leaving because I think I don't deserve a life with you and the pack. I’m not leaving because I think that I’m not worth your love. I’m leaving because for the first time I know that I am.
“For the first time I understand why Yoongi left and why he didn’t come back until he knew it would be safe. Because when you love something the way that I love you, you’ll do anything to protect them. Can you really blame me Joonie? For doing what you might have done?”
You continue on like you’re not wrenching Namjoon’s heart clean from his chest. Like you’re not a hurricane on his very being- dark and thunderous tearing through him as impersonal as wind. Namjoon’s heart thuds and thuds and thuds.
“Before I leave you, I want you to know that if I loved you less- I might have stayed.”
Namjoon’s lungs ache, ache and sting and swell with words he can’t say, he can’t breathe. His mouth screwed into a soundless sob. He actually might be having a panic attack. He's never had one before- he's not sure if he knows what one feels like. If it's like this- if it's like this he can understand why people call them an attack.
It's frantic, like he's chewing off his own leg to get out of your words. The panic is so terrible. Namjoon hasn't been this scared since he was a child. At least Yoongi had the fucking decency not to make his leaving so visceral.
Namjoon is bent over, tears dripping down his nose, sagging almost to his knees. “Why are you doing this to us!? To me!”
Something jiggles the phone, something that makes your voice all warbly- Namjoon imagines you on the train in a window seat. Resting your cheek against the balmy glass while you talk to him. Staring out at the scenery racing by. Hurtling towards your future like a comet or maybe an asteroid (something more destructive- more appropriate for the wretchedness filling Namjoon’s lungs like tar, the desiccated bodies of the dreams he had for you and the plans he made with you in mind clogging his lungs and making it hard to breathe).
Who knows, maybe off between the trees and the road, you see a red car zooming, trying to keep pace with the train.
Namjoon’s heart feels like it’s skipping too many beats.
“Something Jin told me the other day got stuck in my head and I keep thinking about it, would you like to hear it?”
You take his silence for permission and Namjoon does not turn to look at Jin and Tae sitting on the outdoor furniture. They just sit there; they don't do anything. Namjoon wishes there was something they could do or something he could barter for your safe return but you already have all of him and all of him wasn't enough to make you stay.
“Jin showed me this little article the other day- a few weeks ago now. He can tell you it in more detail but basically, it was about these mice.”
Namjoon struggles to say something- unsure where you’re going with this but desperate to keep you on the line. At least until the others get to you. Drinking down your voice, the whisper of your breath, everything.
“They made like- two test groups, they wanted to measure like- willpower- or how long they would try to live before they gave up. It’s kinda dark I guess. I'm not a good judge of things like that you know.”
Your laugh is the prettiest and saddest thing that Namjoon’s ever heard. He wants to record it and save it for later like some hidden track and he never wants to hear it again.
“Anyways- they put the mice and a bucket of water and timed how long it took for them to stop swimming, to stop trying to live. They’d try for a little while but give up pretty quickly. Like- an hour. That’s how much will to live that they had: an hour’s worth of it.”
Namjoon breaks, shouting, “I don’t want to talk about mice I want to talk about getting you the fuck home!”
Namjoon can hear your smile in your voice, And no-no-no you won’t even let him fight- you won’t even let him snap at you and engage with it. Namjoon’s seen you sad, he’s seen you defeated. He’s seen you so hungry you could hardly hold your head up. But seeing you convicted of this punishment is worse than anything.
“Anyway- they just killed the first group for a baseline. But with the second group just before they died- just before they went underwater- They took them out of the water and dried them off.”
Your voice goes hushed at the end. The morning sunlight cuts across the top of the house yellow. The tree too- it’s early morning- Namjoon’s favorite time of day and he won’t be ever able to properly enjoy it again. Won’t ever be able to wake up at this time of day and not think about the morning you left.
“They let them rest and gave them some food.”
Namjoon feels like he’s about to have a heart attack, blood thumping and hitting against his ribcage. Bullying out the flowers and the butterflies in his stomach.
“Cuddled them a little.”
Namjoon stands at the doorway to the pack den. Hands so tight in their fists that they ache and ache. Namjoon’s hands have saved countless people’s lives before, and they’ve saved yours too- but right now they just hurt.
“And when they put them back in,”
Noodle meows dolefully from the door, swatting at Jin’s ankles and then purring around Tae’s. Namjoon’s knees are shaking.
“They lasted for a whole 12 hours longer. Because they thought they might be saved. Because they had some love to remember. They were able to last for a lot longer than they would have otherwise.”
His face is screwed something terrible with how hard he’s sobbing. How is it that just an hour ago you were safe in his arms, talking about getting away from here. Just an hour ago. It's still 5am a time zone away, if Namjoon got on a plane and flew there- would you still be safe? Is there any way to turn back time?
You only get to love people for as long as you get and not a second more. You get what you get and you don't get upset. Yoongi might have been your lifeblood, the air in your lungs and your reason for existing, but you’d still be that fragile creature close to drowning if it wasn’t for Namjoon.
“Namjoon?” You say his name once and then softer, a croon. “Joonie.”
He's sobbing too hard to see, “Don’t-”
“Thank you for drying me off.”
The phone clicks and disconnects.
Namjoon falls to the stairs, ass in a puddle but none of him cares. He remembers the first day he heard you speak, sitting on these stairs while he helped Yoongi fix the railing. Namjoon remembers the summer heat and feeling scared for you for the first time- because the railing felt so rickety and the last thing he wanted was for you or Jungkook or Hobi to fall. Namjoon is the one who is falling, hurtling towards destruction that stops and ends with his heart.
His hands hurt. He remembers laughing with the others and stealing sips of sweet tea. Nibbling on the sour lemons, sweaty and hot and dusty. His eyes feel like they’re going to fall out of his head with how hard he’s crying. He remembers that you’d poked his dimples and called them pretty, he remembers feeling tired after but fulfilled for it.
One scene in summer and the other in winter now. At the beginning of a relationship and now at the end. The stairs still creek, the wind still blows and Namjoon's hands are still sweaty.
Namjoon sobs loudly and it echos across the empty cul-de-sac gut-wrenching. People cry differently when they lose people they love. Namjoon has heard people cry like this after he’s told them bad news, no sign of brain activity. We did everything that we could. I'm so sorry. It sounds different now that it’s coming out of his own mouth.
He actually might pass out with how hard he’s breathing. Teeth dig into his lower lip so hard he tastes blood. He’s still holding the phone to his ear. “Pup- wait- I love you- you can’t do this to us- to me.” But you’ve already hung up on him.
The dial tone tears through him like a bullet. Namjoon should be bleeding, broken hearts don't hurt this much without blood. People don’t hurt this much without actual wounds.
Eventually, something touches his back, a soft furry creature that only makes Namjoon sob harder as Noodle bullies his way under Namjoon’s arm and licks at his fingertips. Before long there’s hands on him. Jin and Tae pull him up and onto the furniture. One hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. Jin grabs his wrist. Circling it gently before he holds his hands and nudges them until they relax from their clenched fists.
Namjoon cries.
Together they watch the road and wait for the others to return.
~-~
(Hidden playlist ▶ Play track?)
“Shit!”
They miss the first train by just a few seconds. It screeches away from the platform when Jungkook gets out of the car. Standing there for a breath and watching it pull away. The metal thud screech of it drowns out Yoongi’s voice.
Jimin hits the wheel and growls before he revs the engine and turns, almost hitting a fire hydrant with how quick and jerky he backs up and accelerates. Leaning forward through the window to snap at Jungkook.
“Get back in the fucking car!”
Jungkook does, the door barely latching and almost swinging free as Jimin peels out of the parking lot. Slamming back shut when Jimin does a near 180 to accelerate back onto the main road.
“Sorry hyung,” Yoongi doesn’t need to reply- they all know that every second matters.
Jimin almost collides with a car stopped at the light before he drives on the shoulder, spinning around them. The train matches the road at this part of the tracks so it’s easy to follow it. They keep pace with it as Jimin pushes 70 miles an hour and then 80.
Jimin keeps the gas pedal well acquainted with the floor until they're going faster than the train. Weaving in and out of traffic back and forth, getting honked at and almost cut off several times. Leaving his packmates to grip to seats and their handles. Worried about getting thrown off but still- not wearing their seatbelts.
“We’re never going to make it! It’s too fast! We’re going to hit traffic soon!” The closer they get to the city the less likely it is that they'll be able to catch up to you. It's nearly early morning rush hour, another 30 minutes and these roads will be at a standstill.
“Hang on- let me see the map,” Hoseok watches Yoongi look at it.
“If we go to the next station, we won’t make it. But, if we try to go to the one after that and cut it off-” A look around the car says everyone agrees with Yoongi. Jimin steps on it, and there are a terrifying few minutes where Jimin’s driving skills honestly make them all count their prayers and promise things to gods that they’re already not fond of- but when they skitter and screech into the next station he hears it.
“The next inbound train will be arriving shortly, please collect your belongings. And remember-“
Hoseok is hot on the announcements heals. Sliding to get out of the car before it’s really stopped. “If we miss this one just go to the next station without us-”
“-if you see something say something.”
The train is coming- Hoseok can see the lights about a 100 feet down the tracks and it's moving fast. Yoongi almost makes to get out but Hoseok just shoves him back inside. Jungkook gets out of the car too, bolting in the direction of the stairs. “Hoseok-”
“Yoongi- Just go!”
There are maybe three flights of stairs up, then 50 feet across the tracks, and then the same amount of steps down. He and Jungkook book it up them. Making every second count. Hurtling through time and air. Ignoring the sore and tired pulse of their muscles. They’re clearing the top step and the train is below them. A silver bullet careening and destined to do damage but slowing down.
They bolt across the landing past the ticket kiosk and through the push doors. The train is stopping with a hiss of breaks and a screech of metal. A release of pressurized air that billows up to them warm carrying with it the smell of tar and city.
Hoseok’s lungs are burning. Jungkook is usually faster by just a little bit and would be on any ordinary day. They might be roughly the same height but Hoseok doesn't do cardio nearly as often as Jungkook does. Jungkook's the one who runs every day, who does cardio like it's sleeping and marathons like they're mid-afternoon naps. Who works out and hones his body to a lethal edge just because he can.
But he doesn’t run like Hoseok does.
Hoseok runs like his life depends on it- the same way you would run if he was walking into Geumjae’s arms. You’d never let Geumjae touch even a hair on Hoseok’s head and if- if Moonbyul is who you’re going to- then there is more at stake than just your phsyical safety, too much at stake for Hoseok to be held back by his body.
Hoseok thinks of the tiramisu. Of walking with you on the beach. Of making your nightime stacks just the way you like it. Of holding you that one time you almost fell into the water. Telling you that you had to be careful. Hoseok remembers driving out in his car, tugging your seatbelt to make sure it fit snug. Standing with you side by side in the flower refrigerators at work and the feeling the first time you’d rubbed your scent gland to his. Every playlist of his with your name on it, every song that you ever shared. All of that- she’s going to destroy all of that if Hoseok doesn’t get to you in time.
He remembers how small she made him feel. How small you were when he first saw you. He won’t let you get that way again. Hoseok won’t let you disappear.
Jungkook is the one who would win this race on any other day, where the stakes any different, but just this once Hoseok is faster. Hurling himself over the concrete as fast as his body will take him. Hoseok cuts through the air like wind.
They run, feet thumping. Bodies thudding, hearts and lungs delivering oxygen to their needy muscles. Beat-up sneakers gripping the concrete. Down and down the stairs, plummeting. Almost tripping and falling on the slippery concrete steps. The doors start to close just as they round the corner.
By some miracle of blood and sweat, Hobi's the one who overtakes Jungkook. The doors are closing and the train's metal shell is beginning to hum and vibrate as it makes to pull away from the tracks.
In a last-ditch effort, Hoseok throws himself in the direction of the closing doors.
~-~
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~-~
Do i think that hobi could have actually warned the pack what she was planning to do? Yes. Do I also think that he thought he had more time to warn them and really wanted to sleep off his near death experience? also yes. Namjoon giving him drugs obviously didn't help. i honestly don't think he was thinking clearly.
this is one of those chapters where everything could have gone differently if they'd just been given a little bit more- but i digress- we all know life isn't so neat and tidy.
I can't not write thinking about the angsty alternative ending for bily- but you guys should know the namjoon/m/c scene...if things had gone poorly in this chapter- this would have been the last time they spoke or touched each other for 3 years- for those who are wondering about the alternative ending- i will NOT be posting any of it on AO3. Only on tumblr through asks! i'll try to tag the super triggering stuff but yeah.
when i think of namjoon and the m/c and their relationship- i think that what they want most for each other is to just see the other old and happy like- that becomes the foundation for their relationship. thats why it's namjoon who she thanks. it also doesn't escape me that yoongi is not in this chapter very much- this is intentional. just wait for next chapter and his anger! i swear its so fucking hot my god i really wanted them to fuck in the next chapter but i just don't think it's going to happen.
the og version of this chapter called for jimin parking hobi's car on the tracks and literally letting the train hit it- not derail- but just hit it. just to get it to stop for the m/c however i figured that was going a bit too far.
Me writing any part with jimin in it- "what if i added a bit of religious trauma to it?"
the line where namjoon talks about his hands hurting is like- directly related to me, because my hands didn't hurt all the time before i started writing bily but now my Knuckles hurt almost every morning. After writing for more than an hour they hurt. i guess when you love something enough it hurts you lol i don't mind.
the "you want a lifetime with them" lines are mostly a callback to like...grey's anatomy. namjoon's charecter is LOOOSELY based on mcdreamy of course the whole...neurosurgeon thing and i am 3 seasons into a re-watch so~ you will have to tollerate that cringeworthy refrence~
i've always wanted to structure a chapter around the thud and thump of a heart and yeah!! i think did a few back but i wanted to do it again~
i don't think i was very subtle with the hoseok train station and the train ticket parts of the story like- i think i forshadowed pretty heavily that it was eventually going to be used but! i hope you liked the big reveal.
how did you guys like the cliffhanger? should i spoil it for you when i've always said that bily would get a happy ending????? i mean...come on... we all know hoseok's gonna be fast enough right?
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katebacks · 2 years
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All Mine - JJK (M)
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→ pairing | Jeon Jungkook x Reader
→ genre | smut, angst, ceo!jungkook
→ word count | 6,431
→ summary | CEO of one of the biggest companies in the country,
Jungkook didn't have much time for love. You were in love with him,
but he didn't feel the same way about you, at least that's what you thought.
→ warnings |sex, Adult content, alcoholic beverages, low slang words.
→ A/N| I've been away for a long time, but I'm slowly coming back now. I haven't come off hiatus yet, but it's a start. Please, if you like it, reblog and comment, I'm always open to suggestions.
You knew it was wrong, but it was something you couldn't avoid. From the day you laid your eyes on Jungkook, you had fallen madly in love, but always knew he didn't feel the same way and probably never would. He was cold, impatient and sometimes mean. Well, maybe most of the time he was mean, that was his nature and he made that very clear when you went on a date for the first time.
Despite being a gentleman, he wasn't romantic at all, he wasn't a man of flowers or romanticism.  He could open doors for you, he could pull out your chair for you to sit in, he could buy you gifts and expensive things, but he would never say those three words that most human beings expect to hear. And at first you were fine with that, but after a year in a relationship that was seemingly without commitments and feelings on his part, you were feeling tired. Tired of wanting him to spend the night at your apartment , tired of receiving diamond necklaces the mornings after sex as compensation for him not staying. You were tired of being treated as just an object, as something to satisfy his sexual desires, and mostly tired of him trying to control your life completely.
Jungkook was the president of a pharmaceutical company, the most successful in the country, which was on its way to winning the Academy Award for Global Entrepreneurship. So he was almost always busy, signing contracts, leading new research, traveling on business, so you only saw each other 6 times a month.  Sometimes he decided at the last minute that he would take you with him on a trip, forcing you to undo your commitments and ignore your duties for weeks, and even though you didn't have a job, since your life seemed to revolve only around him, with him paying all your expenses, including putting an apartment in your name, you attended business administration college, and you had exams and assignments that you did with your friends. That's why you always ended up getting on bad terms with your friends for missing your college dates, but you never got a bad image to the university itself, because since he started dating you, Jungkook started donating millions of dollars to your college.
But about the trips, you never complained about it. You visited Paris, Italy, Switzerland, Dubai and several other countries. During the day, you went out and got to know the city you were in, you went to the tourist spots, met new people, ate the native foods, but you always did it yourself, all alone,  because he was always busy with his business meetings, and only saw you at night, in his room.
You also had nothing to complain about the sex. It was always full of lust and madness, goosebumps and sweat. His hands went against the sensitive points of your body and your hands gripped his muscular arms. When you had your chest against the mattress, and he was on top of you, hitting you hard from behind, you would squeeze the sheet between your fingers, and he would caress your arms, bringing his hands to yours, intertwining your fingers. When you were on top, riding, the sweat pouring down your neck, strolling between your breasts, until it dripped onto Jungkook's defined abdomen, you held onto the headboard, using all your strength to do it faster and faster. As he held your waist, pressing his fingers against your skin, his eyes glued to your wet body, the moans echoing through the room, the bed creaking, he cursed as he felt himself coming, gripping your body, sitting on the bed, using the strength of his arms to keep you still on his lap, while you felt his hot liquid spurt into you, the pleasure taking over your body, and you were delirious, coming on his dick.
Then you fell down on the mattress, he pulled you into a hug until he felt that your breathing had normalized, and that your body had stopped spasming. He would get up, get his clothes and not even shower, just kiss you good night and walk out the door of your apartment, leaving you too tired to even try to stop him. And then it would take him days to respond to your messages or call you for yet another overwhelming night.
You were just tired of this bullshit.
You had enough money in the bank to support yourself for months, even years if you lowered your life quality  a little bit and stopped buying so many expensive things. And if you needed to, you had real diamond necklaces, earrings and rings that you could sell for a good price, as well as exclusive brand clothes, shoes and bags. You worked before you met him and your old boss assured you that if you wanted your job back, you would have it. There was nothing that could stop you from getting your freedom back, and meeting other people, having a loving relationship with someone else, other than the fact that you were totally heads over heels in love with Jungkook.
"So, are you coming to celebrate Minho's birthday with us tonight?" Rosé asked as you walked across campus. She was your age and in your class, she was also your best friend and shared everything with you, just like you did with her. She had a body to be envied, buttery brown, caramelized, as she liked to say. Her light pink hair shone as she walked and drew stares, compliments and sighs. She wasn't exactly the easiest person to deal with, she had the strong spirit, the strongest personality and that's why you admired her so much. As long as you had known each other, you had never seen her cry for any man, quite the contrary, it was men who cried for her. And she was the only one of your friends who knew about Jungkook.
"Yeah, I can't even remember the last time I had something with alcohol. I need to drink and go wild."
"Your Sugar Daddy won't let you drink.” She laugh.  “I highly doubt he'll let you hang out with us, anyway. Doesn't he hate you going out without him? So bossy, gosh."
"He's not my Sugar Daddy." You protested.
"Oh no? So what do we call a rich old man who pays everything for a young girl? Philanthropist? Good old man?"
"He's thirty-two. He's only fiveyears older than I am, he’s not that old.” 
Rose rolled her eyes.
"Well, he's not your boyfriend, so..."
"Anyway, we're not hanging out anymore." You shrugged. "The last time I saw him was almost two weeks ago. Since then he hasn't called or texted, and I haven't tried to get in touch either."
"Have you finally come to your senses and realized he wants nothing more than sex with you? And that he will never want to get married or have children?" She asked stopping in her tracks and grabbing your arm, causing you to stop as well. You just shook your head and nodded, a tear starting to run down your cheek, even though you fought so hard to hold it back. Rosé hugged you and stroked your back.
"I just wanted to understand why he can't love me. Am I that bad? Am I so stupid that he didn't even want to spend time with me to get to know me? Am I only good for sex?"
"Don't say those things, this guy is just another asshole in the world and he doesn't deserve you to spend your expensive foundation on him. Not even if he paid for it."
That comment made you laugh through your tears and be grateful for having Rosé by your side.
"Come on, let's pick out our clothes for tonight. Let's dress as slutty as possible, and oh, Minho has a crush on you. Maybe tonight you should use him to forget about Jungkook."
...
You were just getting dressed, wearing  a short, low-cut black satin dress, and high heels of the same color. You chose to pull your hair into a high bun, leaving your shoulders exposed.
You were just putting on your earrings when the doorbell rang. And you shivered all over. Usually, the doorman called to let you know that there was someone in the building who was asking permission to go up to your apartment, and the neighbors almost never stayed home as they were always traveling for work, so there was only one option of who was at your door.
You held yourself still, hoping that if you didn't make a noise, he would leave, but a few seconds later you heard the electronic lock being unlocked and the door opening. It was Jungkook. He always rang the doorbell first before entering the apartment so he wouldn't scare you. But still, you were scared as fuck. He never came to visit you without telling you first. Something was wrong, and you could sense it.
"Princess, are you home?" You could hear his voice coming from the living room, as you heard his footsteps in the hallway, probably heading towards your room. That was it. There was nothing to do. You simply went back to looking at yourself in the mirror, finishing putting on your earrings, remaining calm. When he entered the room, he stopped pacing suddenly, frowning at your, not expecting to find your like this.
God, how wonderful he was. He was all in black, wearing casual clothes, with his suede shoe. His brown hair tossed back, and his scent invading the room. He carried a bottle of wine, a Romanée Conti Grand Cru in one hand while his cell phone and apartment access card were in the other. You looked at him in the mirror, waiting for him to say something, but he continued to stare, relentlessly. You turned to him, his eyes falling on your shoulders and cleavage, for a few seconds he remained there, just looking at you, until he finally seemed to come to his senses and raised his gaze to yours, still frowning.
"Why are you dressed like that?" He asked in a serious tone, the kind he used when he didn't like something. You looked at yourself for a few seconds before turning your attention to him.
"Why? Isn't it good?"
"You look absolutely gorgeous." He exclaimed without hesitation, bringing a stupid smile to your face."Did we have anything scheduled today?" Jungkook looked at his rolex, trying to remember if he had forgotten any appointments he had made with you that night.
"Hmm, no." You said, still unsure what to say. Jungkook raised his head, again looking towards you with a frown. You bit your lip and turned back to the dressing table behind you, opening your jewelry drawer and looking for a necklace. "I'm going out with some friends today." And so you chose one that had only one cut diamond pendant in the shape of a heart. Jungkook had given it to you for your birthday, two months after you started hanging out.
“What friends?” You didn't even have the courage to look at his reflection in your mirror as you heard his voice getting angrier. But you couldn't understand why. He'd said himself that there was nothing between you, so why did he seem so upset?
“Some college friends. It's one of our classmates' birthday today and Rosé invited me to go with them to a pub downtown.” And that was it, you were ready to leave.
"Okay." he almost whispered. "And why didn't you tell me?" He asked putting the wine bottle on top of the dresser that was next to the door, and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. You shrugged and turned to him, who still had that confused, troubled expression on his face.
"You didn't call or text, you just... disappeared for almost two weeks, I thought you'd finally found a new sex toy and had forgotten about me. I was just moving on."
And so you walked past him, heading to the closet and looking for something. Jungkook blinked a few times until he finally understood what was happening and turned towards you, who was wearing your jacket.
"Is there something you want to tell me, (y/n)?" He never calls you by your name, only when you were in a fight or about to get into one. And you didn't feel like fighting at all, because you knew that every time, you ended up in bed, and he ended up leaving, as usual. You just sighed, fighting the urge to start cursing and jumping into his arms, and just grabbed your keys and your cell phone off the nightstand next to your bed. When you turned to him again, he remained motionless.
"I don't have anything to talk to you about, Jungkook. Like you said, we're just two adults having no-strings-attached sex, I don't owe you any explanations.” You didn't even know where you got so much strength to say that. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going out with my friends. If you want to stay, make yourself at home, if not, don't forget to lock the door when you leave."
When you walked out the apartment door, you felt like you could finally breathe again. You weren't afraid of Jungkook's reaction, you knew he would never do anything violent or dangerous to you, but you knew he was quite possessive of his stuff, and you knew he thought you was his. And to be honest, you knew you were his, you felt like his, but that had to change, you had to get over it. You wanted a family, children someday, and you knew he didn't want something like that. He wasn't the right man for you.
It didn't take long for your taxi to arrive, and by the time you boarded, Jungkook still hadn't left the building. Maybe he would stay there a little longer, maybe he would wait for you to come back. But you would try not to worry about it.
When you arrived at the pub, Rosé was outside, waiting for you to arrive. You had already been to that place once, Jungkook was the one who took you and there you’d stayed in the VIP area. It was quite an experience counting that you had sex in one of the bathrooms.
“Ready to forget that asshole?”
No, you weren’t
“Yeah, I am.”
But you could pretend it.
...
The night was moving really slowly, you had like three or four drinks, and had a bunch of strangers hitting on you like they know you. The songs were good and you even danced some with Rosé, but it was weird to be in a place like this without Jungkook shielding you from the others. You always felt safe when he was close to you, but even with your male college friends hanging around, you couldn't let go, for fear that one of those weird guys that was hitting on you might decide to do something. Being a woman wasn't easy, but being a woman in the middle of a pub full of drunk men and possible predators was even harder. And you hated it. You hated misogyny in society, you hated feeling like a targed, and you hated feeling so dependent on Jungkook.
"Is everything alright?" Minho's voice sounded close to your ear, making you look over your shoulder and see him standing right next to you. He was a tall, handsome man with black hair and an athlete's physique, he was polite and kind, and he loved children. He would be your perfect match if there wasn't an asshole on your mind.
“Yeah, I’m just tired.”  You smiled. “So? Having fun?”
"Oh, I don't know. Sometimes I think I've lost the ability to have fun at parties that start after 8 pm." He said scratching the back of his neck. "I guess I'm too old for these things."
"Don't say that, you must be tired of studying and working so hard." You said taking a sip of your drink.
"But what about you? You don't seem to be enjoying yourself either." He sat on the bench next to you, turning to face you, his arm resting on the counter, very, very close to you, so close that his hand almost touched yours that that covered the glass on the counter, preventing anyone from trying to put something in your drink.
"No, I'm having fun." You lied. "I'm just really tired, it's been a long week."
"Well, yeah, Rosé said you've been pretty busy with some personal projects. And to be honest, I've always been really curious about what those projects were, or if you were actually just dating someone and didn't want anyone to know." He gave a wan smile. "But she assured me that you didn't have a boyfriend and that you were actually looking for one."
You laughed humorlessly. Rosé, i’ll kill you. You thought.
"It's like her to say something like that."
"Look, I'll be really straight, I know we're not that close, we are both always busy and we hardly see each other at university, but you know, I kind of have a crush on you, and by crush I mean I'm dying to be more than your friend." You felt your cheeks burn, but couldn't stop staring into his eyes, which gave him enough confidence to go on. "And if you give me a chance, I think I could make a great boyfriend. Not that I'm saying we're going to start dating right on the first date." He chuckled sheepishly, and you thought that was so cute that you couldn't contain a shy laugh either. "I'm really bad at these things, sorry, I'm not very good at hitting on a girl." He cleared his throat, glancing around. "Anyway, I think we should dance, to see if this embarrassing moment can be broken."
"That would be a good idea, but I kind of don't like dancing around all these people, there are a lot of men here and I don't like the idea of a strange man trying to rub himself against me.”
"They are not going to touch you." He said smiling, reaching out to you. "I won’t let them." You bit your lip, thinking for a second. You needed to take a chance on whatever it was, only then would you be able to forget Jungkook. Or at least begin to try.
You smiled and nodded, reaching your hand towards him, but before you could even bring your fingers into Minho's palm, a huge male hand wrapped around yours, making you turn around to see who it was, your eyes widening when you saw Jungkook looking down to you. And what surprised you the most at that moment was not the fact that he was there, but the soft look he had.
"Forgive my tardiness, princess." He said smiling, bringing his face closer to yours and giving you a kiss on the forehead, leaving you even more in shock. "Kyle and I got stuck in a huge traffic jam." Kyle, the man almost as tall as Jungkook, dark-haired, dressed in a suit, who was standing two steps behind him, was his private security, his bodyguard. There was nowhere Jungkook went that Kyle wasn't together, except of course, your apartment. You didn't talk much, usually he was very quiet, and polite, he greeted you and that was it, he was silent for the rest of the time.
“You must be the birthday boy, I suppose. I hope I got here before you blew out the candles.” He turned to Minho who had a confused look and still had his hand extended towards you. If it had been on other occasions, you would have caught the sarcasm in Jungkook's words, but at that moment, you were still trying to process that he was still holding your hand.
On the other hand, Minho seems to have understood very well what he meant.
“(y/n), there you are... Oh my god what is the steel giant doing here?” Rosé came out of the crowd that was occupying the dance floor, and just like you, she widened her eyes when she saw him.
"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Minho asked, putting his hand down. A smile appeared on Jungkook's face as the sparkle in Minho's eyes faded.
"I'm Jeon Jungkook, (y/n)'s boyfriend." He simply said. The two girls looked at each other, still wide-eyed, mouths agape, while hissing ‘oh my god’ without making a single sound.
"Wow, you really do have a boyfriend." Minho laughed dryly. "I don't... I thought... Rosé told me you didn't have anyone... I didn't want to... You should have told me." 
You just wanted to curl up and hide from all that embarrassment. You didn't even know you had a boyfriend, how could you tell others that you had one?
“No, no, no, she doesn’t have a boyfriend, he’s lying.” Rosé intervened, making everyone look at her. Even Jungkook frowned at her. "If she had a boyfriend, she would have said it, wouldn't you (y/n)?" 
You wanted to say something, but you didn't know what. Luckily, Jungkook always had an answer for everything and saved you the shame of making up a blatant lie.
“We kept our relationship a secret for some time, I didn't want her to be disturbed by onlookers or reporters. I didn't want our personal lives to end up on the cover of a magazine.”
“What, you’re like famous or something?” Rosé questioned, crossing her arms in a very arrogant and petulant way.
"I'm just Hanmi's CEO."
"You mean the Hanmi Enterprise?" Minho asked totally shocked. Jungkook nodded. "Like, the biggest pharmaceutical company in the country?"
“Yes.”
"Oh my god sir, I swear I didn't know (y/n) was your girlfriend, I would never do anything...” And he started freaking out. “My god, the Hanmi Enterprise is every business administration student's dream in this country, the internship project that you have is just amazing."
Rosé rolled her eyes and grabbed your hand.
"While you guys sit there sucking each other's balls, (y/n) and I are going to the bathroom."
And she started pulling you towards the bathrooms. The moment you were inside, she turned towards you and slapped your arm.
“Ouch. Why did you do that?”
“Why did i...What the hell were you thinking of calling the Iceman, Olaff's creator, to come here?”
“How many drinks did you have? Elza is the creator of Olaff, not the... Ouch, stop hitting me.” 
"If you didn't invite him, then how the hell did he... Oh my lord. " And she covered her mouth, her eyes widening. "Do you think he implanted a mini tracker in you while you slept?"
“He didn’t do that, Rosé.”
"So he's tracking your phone, what a freak."
"He doesn't..." You took a deep breath. "Rosé, he's a partner at this nightclub. I've come here other times with him, one of his friends must have called and said I was here."
"Why didn't you tell me that when we arrived? I could have chosen another place."
"I didn't know he would come after me, at least not after the short conversation we had before I came here."
"What conversation?" She asked stopping to go around in circles. "I thought you guys weren't talking."
"And we weren't, but today he showed up at my apartment by surprise, all…perfect, holding a very expensive bottle of wine. I said I was going out with some friends, he asked why I didn't tell him, I said I didn't owe him an explanation, and I left."
"Oh, so I know exactly what's going on here, he's trying to show that he's the alpha male, and that you can even say you don't owe him an explanation, but still, you belong to him."
"Well maybe I do."
"I can't believe you're saying this." She said, in disbelief. "Have you forgotten how he's been treating you all this time?"
"Look Rosé, he never promised me roses and hearts, I always knew he didn't want a serious relationship, but you saw what he just did, he declared in front of other people that he's my boyfriend. That has to be worth something." You said throwing your hands up. "I think perhaps I should give him one more chance."
The girl was thoughtful for a few seconds, until a smile that you knew well appeared on her lips.
“I know this face, what are you up to?”
“I thought of a great way to test your Sugar Daddy.” And so she walked towards the door, while you rolled your eyes and followed.
"He's not my sugar daddy." And when they opened the door, they both came face to face with Kyle, the bodyguard, who was standing in front of them. “Kyle, what are you doing here?”
"What do you think? The old man told him to come after you. So controlling.” Rosé complained.
“Mr Jeon asked to let you know that he and your friends are in the VIP area, and that he is waiting for you there.” Kyle said simply. Rosé just sighed and headed in a direction opposite to the VIP area. “Is your friend all right, Miss (y/l/n)? Need something?"
"No, she's fine, you get used to it with time."
After climbing the stairs that led to the VIP area, (y/n) noticed that the two sofas were almost full, there was only one vacant seat, on a loveseat sofa and was right next to Jungkook. He was engaged in conversation with the other guys, and they were probably talking about politics and his company. Deciding you should drink some more, to process everything that was going on, you headed to the drinks counter and sat there, ordering a margherita for the waiter.
It didn't take long before a hand went to your waist and Jungkook sat down beside you.
"So... Steel giant, huh?"
(y/n) looked at him for a few seconds before taking a sip of her drink.
"Don't think about it too much, Rosé is 5.25ft tall, anyone is a giant for her."
"She doesn't seem to like me very much, you must have spoken very badly about me." He said nodding to the bartender that already knew what his drink would be.
“I only told the truth. It's not my fault if you're the bad guy.”
"I'm not the bad guy, only when you ask me to be." He whispered the last part. At other times it would turn you on, but at that moment, you weren't in the mood for it. Then you swiveled around on the bench, facing him.
“Look, why are you here anyway?” You asked. “Why did you come to tell my friends that you're my boyfriend when you really aren't? Have you come to show that you own me?”
“To be honest, it made me jealous to death that you could be getting hooked up with other men, and that possibly at one time or another, you would fall for one of them.” He said staring at Minho while he was talking to his friends. “And I could have sworn you were falling for that guy.”
“And what do you have to do with it, Jungkook? It was you who said that..."
"I know what I said, princess, and I was wrong."
And he made you gawk.
“Were you?”
"Yeah." He nodded. "Look, I'm not good at this, and I'm trying to change my behavior with you because you deserve so much more than a guy like me and I want to be someone who deserves you." He sighed. “Today I received the best news I could receive in the business world. And the first thing I thought of was you, I thought how much I wanted to share this news with you and how important you are to me. So I went to your apartment with that wine. I thought it was about time I had a conversation with you about my feelings, about why I was so…cold.”
"Well, you can tell me now." You said still not believing what you had heard.
“No, it's a conversation we should have alone. And I don't want to stop you from having fun with your friends. In fact, I just want you to know that I don't think of you as a toy, I know my actions so far just said that, but I swear that's not how I feel about you." He said getting up and approaching you, hovering over you, holding your face. "I just wanted you to know that..."
"(y/n)!" Rosé's voice caught your attention, and you turned to the side, seeing your friend running towards you. “Come with me, now!” And so she grabbed your arm, taking it from Jungkook's hands, who just sighed and sat down again, watching you walk down the stairs until you lost sight of you.
"What's it?" you asked, your voice not loud enough to override the loud music in the room. You were being pulled into the crowd, on the dance floor in the common part of the Pub.
“You will dance with me. Our special Have Mercy choreography.”
"What? What are you...”
“I'm going to prove to you that Jungkook doesn't deserve a second chance, that he's controlling and that the moment he sees you dancing sensually among this bunch of guys, he's going to drag you out of here. Because that's what shit men do, they fuck women up, he takes away your freedom and ends your life. Trust me."
"Rosé, he's not like that."
"Oh no? Then dance with me and prove me wrong."
When CHLOE's voice invaded the place, Rosé started dancing the 'special choreography' they had created in their freshman year of college, when they met and became best friends. It was something sensual and provocative, and one that would surely attract the attention of both sexes there. Praying that no strangers would try to grope you, you started dancing with your friend.  
You weren't the best dancer in the world, but you always liked to dance, it made you elastic and it was a great exercise for people who, like you, didn't like working out. Rosé had a lot more waddle, she could wiggle her hips a lot better, and she created all the choreography. And if she didn't like what she studied in college so much, she'd probably be a dancer.
And the highlight of the choreography, in your opinion, was when you wiggled your ass, keeping your legs straight and lowered your torso, touching your fingertips to the floor, and then you went up at once, throwing your hair back, and lowered yourselves. at once, as if you were actually going to sit down.
“(y/n) and Rosé are killing it.” One of the friends from the university who was in the VIP area said, making the others look over the railing, to the dance floor below, seeing the two swaying among the other people, attracting several looks.Jungkook approached the protection bar, holding a glass of whiskey and watched you, who tossed your hair, went down and up, made provocative movements and was attracting a lot of attention.
He looked at Kyle who got the message and just waved his hand, calling out to the other security guards who followed the boss to the common area dance floor.
Jungkook looked around, seeing the amount of men who were watching you too.
“Bunch of pervs. Kyle" He called, not taking his eyes off his girl.
“Sir?”
"Don't let any man touch her."
"Yes sir." And so Kyle led the security guards who, one by one, barred any man from approaching the two girls in the middle of the dance floor who with your dance, now infected other girls who danced sensually around them. Jungkook started walking in circles, slowly, around the girls, eyes glued to you. In his mind, several scenarios were happening, several memories were reproduced and the fire that burned in his chest, only seemed to burn with even more intensity.
When herealize that a man managed to avoid the security guards and enter the circle, and that he had his eyes and even his hands raised towards you, Jungkook quickened his pace, slipping between you and the boy, looking him up and down, his gaze cold and intimidating, not needing anything else for the boy to back off.
At the end of the song, you and Rosé celebrated and only then looked around, seeing that the security guards had made a kind of barrier, leaving the men out and the women in. You both looked towards Jungkook who was beside Kyle, looking at you with a smug smile on his face as he shoved his hands into his pants pockets. You can't help but smile.
"I told you." You turned to your friend who looked nothing less than impressed.
"He literally pushed every man in this pub away from you, just to let you dance." She laughed. "Yeah, that's pretty cool."
You walked towards him and let him hug you by the waist.
"Do I need to do anything else to prove how important you and your happiness are to me?" You looked around, biting your lip, trying to think of something. The whole situation, the dancing, the display of power, made you aroused and you could feel that you were wet, so when you saw what you wanted, you turned to him and leaned on his shoulders, bringing your lips to his ear.
"I want you to fuck me on those tables over there." You said pointing to the darkest corner of the pub, where literally no one was sitting, as they were more interested in dancing and getting high than sitting. Jeon let out a groan and tightened his hands on your waist, starting to push you towards the tables, he never backed down on a challenge and was always willing to fuck anywhere you were comfortable with.
Minutes later, you were at one of those tables both in the dark. You were kneeling on the floor under the table. He had his pants open and his cock was in your hand. You moved your soft hand over him as your mouth sucked on the top, making Jungkook grunt and grab your hair, moving your head according to the pleasure he was feeling. And with every movement you made with your tongue, he pushed your head harder until you swallowed his whole dick, being able to feel the bottom of your throat, moving his hips against your mouth, fucking your throat until you are out of breath and patting his thigh, making him let go, watching the saliva run from your mouth to the middle of your breasts, making him even harder with that sight.
He cursed - his words were not heard because of the loud music. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a condom. He ripped the package open with his teeth as you stood up and had your back to him. As soon as he put a condom on his cock, he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap,pulled your panties to the side and let him position his cock at the entrance to your dripping pussy. You slowly sat up until you were full of him, your walls getting used to the size he was. You spread your hands across the table, slowly moving your hips back and forth. Jungkook threw his head back, hitting the club wall, cursing as you slowly rolled on his lap, lust taking over his body, totally at your mercy. He used to be the dominator in bed, but he would never lie about the fact that if you asked, he'd drop to his knees for you, his princess. He got so weak when you moved like that.  He cupped your waist, pressing his fingers into your skin, in an almost silent request for you to move faster, and you did, riding his cock with ease.
And between moans and curses your chest was against the table, Jungkook was standing behind you, one hand resting on your back while the other held your waist, hitting hard from behind. His grunts and groans of pleasure were totally masked by the electronic music that was now blaring from the speakers. No one there had noticed the madness they were committing, and if they did, no one cared. His cock hitting the right place, making you roll your eyes and grab the edge of the table while you bit your own lips, feeling your pussy tighten around him, your core so hot and so tight, it hurt.
"Fuck." You grunted as you felt orgasm reaching your body, as he increased the force of the blows, now pulling your arms, making you stand, your ass lifted against his hip, one of his arms hugging your waist, while with the other hand he grabbed your throat. He bit down on your shoulder, sucking on your skin as he slammed his cock against your pussy. “Fucking hell, fuck.” He hissed as he came. His cum filling the condom and he in the midst of his delirium of pleasure, he wished he was filling your pussy with his cum, imagining how pleasurable it would be to see his cum running down your legs after he filled you.
He collapsed sitting on the seat, taking the condom off his dick and zipping his pants while you adjusted the dress and hair. He pulled you onto his lap, sitting you sideways on his thighs and hugging you, letting you lay your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and resting.
"We should go home." He whispered to you, who just nodded, too tired to speak. He then got up with you on his lap, carrying you out of the club, and to the car, where Kyle took them to your apartment.
And for the first time, Jungkook slept with you in your bed.
all rights reserved © katebacks | 2018/2022 — no reposting and/or modifying of any form on any medium is allowed. no translations allowed.
3K notes · View notes
hongjoongscafe · 10 months
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Bloody Love...
Serieslist.
♠︎Pairing: yandere!king!jungkookxoc(coronis)
♠︎Genre: angst, smut, yandere, gore, dark romance, horror, creepy (dark fantasy).
♠︎Summary: "you happen to be in a world where wrong is right and right is wrong."
♠︎Warning: this fiction contains many triggering scenes. Kindly pay attention to the warnings in every chapter.
♠︎Note: lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist!
♠︎Masterpost
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♠︎Ongoing♠︎
{slow updates. Once or twice a month. I hope you understand that I have to focus on college as well!♥︎}
Prologue
Chapter 1: Eyes.
Chapter 2: Redolent.
Chapter 3: Touch.
Chapter 4: Secrecy.
Chapter 5: Familiarity.
Chapter 6: Sadness.
Chapter 7: Betrayal.
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jaykaysthicthighs · 1 month
Text
The Path Of A Singer | JJK
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excerpt | the appearance of your old lover pops up on tv, and the horrible memories showed itself once again.
genre | heavy angst, cheating, abuse, minor fluff
rating | 18+
warnings | strong language, present & past, toxic relationship, mental & physical abuse, jk cheating, panic attack, alcohol and drug consumption, lots of crying, heartbreaking conversations, jk being vile, lots of yelling, jk manhandles the reader, mention of abusive father, mention of ptsd, reader being selfless (you might not agree with the decisions she's made, but don't hate her; she's a broken person), maybe more
wc | 4K+ (very short)
notes | it's been a hell of a long time since i wrote and posted anything....!!!
my inspiration came from watching the movie insidious: the red door lol. the reason for the mature rating is because of the strong language, the heavy conversations said, and the talks of alcohol and drugs. i want to say that i'm not romanticizing this type of relationship or the behaviors of the characters, i'm just making a story that maybe some people might have gone through. sometimes the decisions made or thought of does not make you a bad/horrible person. everyone had a reason good or bad; you just have try to be understanding. i also tried to make this as heartbreaking as possible, but for some reason i feel like it's not. hopefully it does pull some heartstrings for you guys.
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You finally arrived home after an exhausting day of work. Your roommate wasn't home yet, so, luckily for you, you're able to binge eat without the concerned eyes of your friend watching you.
You walked your way to the kitchen and made yourself some sandwiches, you also grabbed some water on the way to the living room. When you made it to the couch, you plopped down heavily. You grabbed the remote and started scrolling through the channels. You came across a channel that was showing a music festival, and without thinking about who might be performing you clicked on it.
The first performer was a group called XG. As they were performing, you happily ate while vibing to their songs. At one point, you started singing as well, not caring that you still had some food in your mouth. If the neighbors were able to hear you, they would probably think someone is dying - yelling for help.
When you finished, you got up put away your dishes, and made your way to your room to change your clothes. As you were changing, you felt a bit lonely. You and your friend don't have any pets, no companion to keep any of you guys company. You exited your room with a simple sweater and shorts.
You made it back to the living room with a content expression on your face, unfortunately, it wouldn't last long. As you were about to get yourself situated on the couch, you looked at the TV screen, and the one person you never wanted to see again was singing.
You fell to your knees with a hard thud, watching the screen with horrid eyes. It's been three years since you saw him. In those three years, you tried your damned hardest to avoid anything and everything that involved him in it. The pain he caused you still resides in your little heart.
You didn't realize but you started crying; the tears rapidly falling. Your body started shaking; the little goosebumps displaying your skin. Your chest felt heavy like a huge wave crashing on you, and the water is rising up into your nose, making it hard for you to breathe. You felt like you were suffocating, and the lack of air was making your head light; dizziness taking its place.
On the outside, you were frozen, but on the inside, you were trying to claw your way out. You felt like you were scratching every surface of your body, but you weren't moving an inch. Your brain was screaming for help, but the only thing leaving your mouth was the hardness and unstableness of your breathing. Right now, you were wishing for your friend to come home right now and save you.
Three Years Ago
You were in your car driving your way to your boyfriend. Jungkook's manager called you demanding that you come and pick him up. You don't really know what happened, but from how his manager sounded, you were thinking that he got himself drunk and high again, causing thoughtless actions.
Not too long ago, Jungkook was able to get into his dream record label. After years and years of hard work, passion, and dedication he was able to pursue his dream. What you didn't realize is that with Jungkook getting to follow his dream of being a singer, he would soon lose his sense of self. In just two weeks he was starting to drink, and in another week, he started experimenting with drugs.
As time went on, so did your patience. You would try and try to stop him - to help him, but every time Jungkook would stop your advances. Pushing you away and causing you pain made Jungkook feel superior, it made him feel proud that he reached a certain height in life.
Your guy's relationship now consists of yelling and crying. Jungkook started to mentally abuse you, but even so, you would accept it. You didn't have the strength to leave him - to leave the man you love since middle school. You couldn't leave the man who would write songs about you, the man who would wake up during dawn and make you a big breakfast, the man who would call you no matter the time, the man who would always tell you how much he loves you every second of the day. You didn't have the strength to leave him.
With all your anger, you finally made it to the studio in one piece. When you entered the building, the looks on the staff's faces were concerning you. One of the staff went up to you and told you to not go inside the studio. You looked at them judgingly and pushed your way through them, but they still tried to stop you.
"What is the problem? Let me through!" you yelled. They gave you a sad look and apologized, "I'm sorry ma'am, but Jungkook is very busy, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to go inside there." Your anger was boiling, steam coming out of your ears. "Sorry for yelling at you, but I don't fucking care if he is busy. Jonny called me saying that I need to pick this asshole up, okay? If you're worried about me finding out that he is high or drunk - even both, don't. This is not new to me."
The staff in front of you looked like she was on the verge of tears. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she got the chance, a disheveled woman left the room your boyfriend was in. You watched her with wide eyes as she left the building with a smile on her face. You stomped your way to the studio door ignoring the pleas from the staff. You pushed open the door causing a loud bang, startling the man recognized as Jonny.
Jonny swiftly got up and the first thing you noticed was the bloody nose. You walked your way to him digging in your bag grabbing some tissues for his nose. Gently placing it on him, you politely demanded, "Where is he, Jonny?" The man before you faced his eyes on the floor. "Jonny, you called me here, so, don't fucking hide anything from me. Where is he?"
The man took a step back letting the blood freely fall again. He shook his head, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you. I've ruined everything." You gritted your teeth and threw the bloody tissue at his face. "Where the hell is he, Jonny?" you yelled.
A second later, Jungkook swung the bathroom door open with nothing but some sweats on. Your heart dropped from his appearance. It was evident that he had fucked the girl from earlier. You guys made eye contact, and you could tell immediately that he was high out of his mind. "Get out, Jonny," you said without looking.
When you heard the door shut, that's when you crumbled. Your eyes started blurring with the tears that were coming. Your body shaking with rage. You walked up to the fucked-up man and slapped him. "Why? Why? Why the hell would you do this to me?"
Jungkook harshly grabbed your wrists and laughed. He laughed like what you had said was something funny. You can smell the horrible alcohol leaving his mouth as he laughed. "Because it's fun, babe."
The pain rippled throughout your body. You snatched your wrists away and bellowed, "You're hurting me! You're destroying me! What does she have that I don't? I thought you loved me?" Jungkook towered over you; he grinned, "I don't love you." Your whole world died. Never had Jungkook spouted those words. It tore you limb from limb, slowly but surely. And that was all it took for you to call it done.
You were fine dealing with his hurtful ways. You were fine being the punching bag. But you were not fine being cheated on. Even with Jungkook in this fucked-up state, not once had he said that he didn't love you, and not once did he ever cheat on you. You felt lower than before, and you didn't want to feel like that. You knew that the moment he started doing drugs and drinking alcohol, the man you once knew would be gone. Still, you had hoped there might be a tiny sliver of him inside, but today proved - his words proved you wrong.
Your eyes hardened and your expression became stoic. Without trying to sound broken you seethed, "We are done! You fucking hear me? I am done with your shit - with everything!" As you walked your way to the door, Jungkook rushed in front of you and pushed you to the ground.
The wind got knocked out of you; you started bawling your eyes. For the first time, you were scared of the man before you. Jungkook locked the door behind him and dragged you by your feet. You tried kicking your feet, hoping that his release would loosen, and you could run away. But before you knew it, Jungkook locked you both into the soundproof booth.
When his grip on you was gone, you scurried to the corner of the booth shielding yourself with your bag. Jungkook walked to you and kneeled to your level. "Don't hide from me, baby." He gently grabbed your bag and tossed it to the other side of the booth. You closed your eyes; you couldn't see the monster of the man you love.
You felt Jungkook tenderly cupping your jaw. You trembled beneath his fingertips; quietly whimpering. It stayed like this for a few seconds until you felt his touch disappear. With your eyes still closed, you could hear Jungkook digging for something. You heard a rustling sound of a Ziplock bag. You knew better, you knew that he was using drugs right now.
"Open your eyes, ____," Jungkook demanded.
You didn't answer, you didn't move. This pissed off the man in front of you. He slapped you, making your body jolt, making your eyes open. You brought your hand to your cheek, tears threatening to fall. "See, it wasn't that hard?"
"W-what do you want... from me?" you stammered.
Jungkook seethed, "You can't leave me. I won't let you leave me. You owe me. All that money I spent on you, all those years I wasted on you - I want that back! And the only way you can pay me back is by being my bitch. You are fucking mine, ____!"
You finally let the tears fall again. Your whole body shook like lightning shooting throughout you. Shaking your head, you wailed, "No! No! No! Please! Don't do this to me, Dad! Stop hurting me!" For the first time today, Jungkook felt his senses come back. Your words panged his heart.
Your mother was never in your life. It was always you and your father, but your father was an abusive man. He would try to find any little thing to blame you for, just for him to lay his hands on you; from hitting, kicking, even to cutting. You had met Jungkook when you were thirteen years old, he comforted, protected, and helped you. When you finally turned eighteen, that's when you moved in with him - that's when you finally felt peace.
Jungkook cupped your face into place. He frantically said, "____, it's me. Your dad's not here. It's me, Jungkook." His touch burned you; you felt like dying. You mustered all your strength and pushed him away. You gripped your shirt and yelled, "No! You're not him! You're not Jungkook! You're a monster and I don't even recognize you!"
Monster... That simple word rang in Jungkook's mind. Monster... Such a terrifying word. If he was a monster, his reason would be because of you. Unfortunately, all the drugs and alcohol in his system weren't enough to keep him sane for one minute. Jungkook launched at you. His hands wrapped around your throat, choking you, but still letting you breathe.
You started clawing your nails on his bare arms. Digging deep that blood starts making its presence. But all that Jungkook could see right now was red. He couldn't feel the pain you were giving him; he couldn't hear the agony in your voice; he couldn't see your wrecked state. Red became his friend.
"You are the reason for my horrible being. You are the reason why I'm a monster. You bitch! If you hadn't kept pushing me to pursue this fucking career, I would've still been the same. If you hadn't been so loving and caring and supportive, we wouldn't be in this predicament. I can't believe that I fell in love with a disgusting person like you. I can't fucking believe that I let you take control of my whole being!"
Right when you were on the verge of passing out, Jungkook released his hold on you; he backed himself on the other side of the booth. You were catching your breath. Your hands shakingly touched your neck, throbbing against your frail fingers. You were painfully coughing; mentally asking God to help ease your pain. Your eyes went in and out of vision; red and black dots were the only thing in sight.
Jungkook watched you with dark eyes. He watched as you were struggling to regain your previous state. He watched as you were crying from the pain, he inflicted on you. He watched the one person who was always with him, the one person who loved and cared for him no longer be the same. He killed you, painfully and slowly.
Present
"____, look at me. It's okay. It's okay." Your friend Lia gently held your face in place. She called out your name, praying that you would settle. She watched as you were frantically breathing; your eyes looking everywhere but her; your body shaking like the room was freezing.
Your panic attacks rarely happen, but when they do, Lia feels so useless. She wished that she could help ease your pain, she wished that she had the power to prevent this. But all she could do was hold you and tell you that you're okay.
Minutes go by until you are finally back. "____?" Lia cautioned, "____, look at me. Are you okay?" As you looked at Lia, you could see the worried expression painting her beautiful face. You hated yourself for making her feel like this, but you couldn't help it. This feeling will never go away; it gets buried six feet under, but once he appears they come back.
"Lia," you whispered, "I saw him again... on TV." Lia took a deep sigh; she hated the pain he caused you before and now. She wrapped you in her arms, holding you with such care. The second you were in her arms, you broke. You cried and cried, loudly speaking your pain.
Lia felt her shirt dampen, but she didn't care. Whatever you do to her, she will take it all in, as long as you feel better in the end, Lia will gladly be your tissue, your enemy, your punching bag. Lia murmured against your hair, "I'm here. I will always be here." She held you tighter; she didn't want you to fade away from her.
You took deep breaths to calm down your nerves. You pulled away from Lia and made your way to the couch. You brought your knees up and buried your face in the space between. You hissed, "I hate what he does to me. He's not even here!" This time you whispered, "And yet, he's able to bring me down to my knees... scared."
Lia met you three years ago; months after your event. You were just a newly hired TA. When Lia first saw you, you looked like a girl who was barely keeping her life together. You told her beforehand - when you started room mating with her, that you have PTSD and that your panic attacks happen from time to time. You didn't really tell her the whole story, just that you were in a very abusive relationship and that you experienced something so terrifying. She accepted you with an open mind and open arms; from then on, Lia became your rock.
Lia got up and sat right next to you. She wanted to ask you a question, but she was scared that you would hate her or push her away for asking. But this question has been in her mind for a while now. After taking a few seconds thinking to think it through, Lia wiped her sweating palms on her pants and inquired, "____, if you don't mind me asking... why didn't you call the police on him? You should've, 'cause I don't think he should be performing after everything he's done to you."
Your eyes started getting blurry; you told yourself the exact same thing, but there was a reason. With your head still buried, you softly replied, "It's easier said than done, Lia. I wished I called the police on him - I wish I could call the police on him, but I can't. Because in simple words... I love him. I hate myself for loving him. Even after everything he has done to me, and everything he has said to me, I love him. Does that make me a horrible person?"
Lia felt herself invisibly jumping out of the couch. No way does she think you're a horrible person. You're just a person who's been through something horribly traumatic. Her heart was filled with so much pain for you. Lia positioned herself so she was facing your small figure, and expressed, "____, no way in hell are you a horrible person. Far from it! I won't be able to say that I relate or know what you're going through, because I don't. But I am able to say that I'll support you and understand your feelings and decisions."
You lifted your head but still kept your eyes on your knees; you muttered, "I met him when we were thirteen years old. He was a very shy and reserved kid - hated social interactions. I remember..." you quietly giggled without realizing when you were remembering the fond memories, "I remember when he used to make small mixtapes every anniversary with letters. He wasn't always a horrible person. He used to be kind, supportive, and loving. One of my favorite things about him was his selflessness towards me. I loved that he would always think about my needs, what I wanted, what I was thinking, and how I was feeling, but in turn, he did the opposite for himself. It was a blessing and a curse."
Lia looked at you and saw the small smile showing. This look was rare for you, and every time it made its appearance, Lia would always treasure it. "He must have been a great person for you to smile like that." You furrowed your brows; you turned to Lia with confusion. "What smile?" you questioned. Lia rolled her eyes, "Well, there's no smile anymore."
You took a deep sigh and apologized, "I'm sorry for talking about him. It's just - just talking about him in this light makes me happy and warm... even if it only lasts for a few seconds." Lia noticed that you started tearing up. Your face was slightly contorted with pain; you were trying not to cry, holding it in but it didn't work. Your tears were freely falling, and Lia comforted you once again. You quietly whimpered, "During that time I called him a monster, but really, I don't want to remember him as the monster in my life because at one point he used to be my prince who saved me from one. I try to think and talk about him in this beautiful light that he used to be under - I want to remember him as that, but the pain he brought upon me is too hard to ignore." You started wailing at this point, "It continues to haunt me, and I hate it! I want to hate him, but I can't! I can't!"
Lia felt herself crying for your pain. She felt herself slowly dying by your words. It truly kills her that her most precious and beautiful friend is going through so much pain. As you both cried into each other's arms, you could hear Lia continuously apologize through her cries. You were so grateful to have such an amazing person as her.
Once you were calmed down, you pulled away from the still tearful woman and wiped her tears away. "Don't cry anymore, Lia." you sniffled, "What happened to me - what's still happening to me would never be fully cured, but I know that whatever happens next, you'll be by my side, and slowly but surely, I won't be able to be to feel the pain anymore. Okay?" Lia nodded her head with a soft smile. You're right, as long as she's with you and as long as you are with her everything will be fine. You guys are each other's glue - each other's person.
There is no doubt in your mind that this pain will pass by. You don't know how long that will take, but until the day comes, having Lia with you eases your heart from pain as much as possible.
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"You mailed her my letter?"
"Yes, Jungkook."
The tired man finished his show with a bang, and even though people enjoyed his performance, Jungkook couldn't seem to feel all that happy. For the past year since he finished his rehab, nothing has felt more depressing.
The morning of that night when he woke up, Jonny had told him that you had left, and he was to go to rehab immediately. He hated you for leaving, he hated that you left him in such a messy state. Jungkook blamed everything on you. Jonny had told the ill man that if it wasn't for you, everything that he had worked so hard on would go down the drain. At first, Jungkook didn't understand why you left or what Jonny was saying, but as time went on, he knew that everything was his fault. His addictions and his abusive behavior were all his fault. The reason for your disappearance was his fault. Your pain - everything was all him.
Jungkook knows that there will be no way for him to fix the things he has done and the things he had said, but even so, he would try his damn hardest to fix it. When he finished rehab, Jungkook made it a mission to send you a letter every week, telling you about his days throughout the week, how much he loves and cares for you, telling you how much he is so regretful. Deep down he knows that he is being selfish, he knows that he should let you go - let you move on, but the helpless man is stuck in the past. The past is what keeps him alive. The past is his only source of reason. Jungkook doesn't want to let go of that one thing he has left of you.
Jonny felt so much pity for the man, he didn't have the heart to tell him that he didn't know your address. He would accept the letters, promising that he would mail them, but when night rolls around your letters would be burned. Jonny wanted to quit being Jungkook's manager, but you begged and begged for him to stay with the broken singer. You wanted Jungkook to at least have one person for him to lean on when things get hard. Jonny admires your strength - how strong of a woman you are, so, he agreed.
"You should just stop already, Jungkook. She's never gonna mail you back. I know your reason, but you lost her, and you can never fix that." Jonny was getting tired; tired of seeing the broken singer trying with no prevail.
Jungkook walked up to his manager and lowly whispered, "You think I don't know that, Jonny? Ever since I learned that everything is my fault... I knew that she would never come back to me. Yet I still hope - even if that hope is microscopic or nonexistent, I hope that I will be able to see or be with her again."
The fatigued man took a few steps back and lowered his heavy head down. His eyes searched the floor trying to keep his tears at bay, but it didn't work. The salty tears of this poor singer escaped and landed harshly on the wooden floor. Sniffling, the fatigued man uttered, "You think I don't know that you burn my letters?" Jungkook lifted his head up and saw the ashamed manager looking back at him.
He continued, "You're not as discreet as you think you are, Jonny. I went to your hotel room to ask for a favor... and I saw you burn my eighth letter with sadness swimming in your eyes. I connected the dots from there, and I realized that you never sent any of my letters because you don't know her address, huh? You're left in the dark like I am, huh? You know nothing about her whereabouts, about how she's doing, about anything, huh, Jonny!" The manager kept quiet; didn't know what to say.
Jungkook slumped down on the nearest chair with a hard thump. He leaned his head back with closed eyes and softly whimpered, "I now understand the meaning ‘You reap what you sow’… I'm never gonna stop. I know I can never fix this, but I promise you Jonny, I will never stop. Ten years - fifty years from now, I will keep writing her letters... knowing that deep down all of this is for nothing. I don't care if I'm shaming myself by doing this - I don't care about anything but her. She's not mine anymore but I'm forever hers. Let me live like this. Let me live with the consequences. Let me drown myself in this regret."
The destroyed man opened his eyes and gently moved his head to the side to see the lone figure of his manager feet away. With a deep sigh, Jungkook claimed, "You're just my manager, right? So, don't involve yourself in my pitiful life. Just do the job you were hired to do, along with getting my letters. Don't care what you do to them - burn them, keep them hidden, rip them up... doesn't matter, just don't let me know about it; let me falsely believe that you mailed them to her. Alright? Now please get the car... I wanna go home."
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crythvv · 10 months
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texts with streamer bf jungkook!
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a/n: i’ve been missing my babies so i decided to do us some justice and made this🤩🤩 streamer!jk and oc have made a comeback!! if any of y’all have requests lmk i would be more than happy to write for the falling! couple again
taglist: @samsgarfield @dae-bakk-pop @yeow6n @ughitsvicky @hobiheavenly @firnze @hyuneyeon @awseokjin @y3jiishot @jojowantstocry @luvdessii @such-a-wh0re @bloodline1632 @acidicloveee @neo444 @s4turnsl0ver @slushykoo
@trulykjd @proudbtsstanfightmebeach @bibsisawhore @dontcallmeelle @xjiminsthighsx @pb-n-juju @purpleguk @jinsearth @sserafimez @taehyungseggs @kar0ki @strawbearytae @sevenlives07 @whoa-jo @pb89nv @wnderkoo @mygsz
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dollfacerecs · 6 months
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— jeon ⋆ jung ⋆ kook
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jjk fic recommendation list by clover. 🍀 ↓
♡ = smut ; ♤ = angst ; ♧ = fluff ; ♕ = favorite
main list
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♢ mutual help ; ♡, ♤, ♧, ♕ || series — by @personasintro
⇝ fwb, fakedating, slowburn // lmao. if u know me u know this is one of my all time, if not all time fav fic. personasintro really outdid herself w this one. i love her so much she really inspired me to pick up writing again and im glad i did 😭😭 guys when i tell you nothing has ever slowburned the way mutual help has like guys. the messiness of it all THE DRAMA. the jealousy. the pining. the sex. literally the way she wrote jungkook is just too fucking good. what a dream to have a man like this in ur life. i can’t tell you how many times i reread certain chapters and just spend nights thinking abt certain moments like its popular for a reason guys. don’t let the amount of chapters scare you away from diving into this guys its sooofucking goodidndkdnskdn
♢ we weren’t just friends ; ♡, ♤ || series — by @jknoah
⇝ fwb, situationship // guys like.. trust me. jk so fuckin insufferable i need him rn. what a little shit. ughhh i love this. kisses to u noah ! <33
♢ once the thrill expires ; ♡, ♤, ♕ || one-shot — by @alphabetboyluvr
⇝ fwb, situationship // again… jungkook is a fucking asshole and he knows it. the way this author describes the details in this literally so fucking good guys like i need a whole series of this its just excellent 😭😭😭 reread this like 3 times soooo good
♢ about u ; ♤, �� || one-shot — by @ugh-yoongi
⇝ exboyfriend!jungkook, jealousy // idk whats up w jk being shitty in fics but i just can’t help it guys. its saur good. this one is so heartbreaking tho like they rlly just love each other man.
♢ soft ; ♡ || one-shot (part of a series) — by @hamsterclaw
⇝ cop!jungkook, mortuaryassistant!reader // jungkook is so fucking cute in this djfbcnf vomitboy <333 and the way he gets teased by the others bc of ur nickname for him dbfhf i also really like this reader
♢ bad decisions ; ♤, ♡, ♧ || series — by @alphabetboyluvr
⇝ bartender!jk, barista!reader // jk and yn are best friends who don’t act like best friends. clearly in love w each other. constant misunderstandings and annoying exes. i havent finished but im very much intrigued. this author is very poetic. very gewd. inspires me a lottt. like this a lot. just excellent.
♢ throttle ; ♡, ♤, ♧ || series — by @alphabetboyluvr
⇝ racer!jk, clerk!reader // jk is soooo damn shady (im not that far into the series yet but i had to recommend bc its already so damn good) and yoongi is the man of my dreams ummm but a bad boy will always prevail and jk in this saurrrr fucking hot i gasp for air
♢ pending…
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bunnybubae · 6 months
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(M)🚦Red Light: The Fear | Ch1 [JJK]
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👉🏻[Series Masterpost]
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (GymOwner!JK/MotoRacer!JK/Biker!JK-TattoArtist!OC)
Genre: S2L - Smut - Fluff - Angst
Summary: Jeon Jungkook never lets any distraction take him away from his motorcycle or his gym for more than one night. He just wants to speed around the track and feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins, the sex he gets thanks to his charm, is just a side dish to his life. A tough past brought him on that Ducati that he learned to love, a past  you'll uncover, as you slowly seep in under his skin. It's a hell of a ride, in all senses, as you try to escape your own hell in the meanwhile.  Where will this ride bring you? Will it be worth it in the end?
Chapter Warnings: This chapter describes an episode of harassment (it involves an unwanted kiss), please be aware of this if this theme makes you uncomfortable, description of past emotional abuse (manipulation, toxic jealousy), Angst, mention of alcohol consumption, Oc's ex is a stalker, cops are grossly negligent in this au, Tae and Hani to the rescue, Jk is hot af but this is nothing new.
Wc: 7.4k
A/N: Hello there! I've been planning this whole series for over a year and I'm finally able to make it come to life, slowly but surely! As always, I'm sorry if there are some grammatical mistakes, english isn't my first language and I don't have a beta, so pls bear with me! 🫶🏻
Let me know what you think about the series, my box is always open! - Joy 🐰
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September 12th, Tuesday
The sun has already set, leaving the place to the colors of dusk.
You feel that your heart might explode in your chest at any moment. Is it the september evening breeze that's causing the chills covering your skin, or if it's all due to this visceral fear that's blocking your muscles right now? You can't quite tell.
After some extra hours at work, you thought you could finally close the tattoo shop in peace and go home to enjoy some leftover pizza in front of your laptop, but no- Ray evidently had other plans for you, deciding to unexpectedly visit you in the most unpleasant way possible. 
You wish Hani had stayed a little longer today to close the shop with you, because this sickening feeling it's becoming unbearable. You feel like a mouse in front of a ravenous cat and you want to scream, but you just don't find the courage to do it. 
He caught you off guard from behind, while you were looking for the keys in your bag, then he effortlessly spun you around on the spot and you found yourself blocked by your shoulders leaning against the entrance door of the shop. 
Your throat tightens as you struggle to breathe regularly. 
You're helpless and right now the only thing you can do is curse the day you replied to his message on Instagram, curse the invitation to participate at that damn workshop you and Hani organized for an exchange of advertising between tattoo artists. You can only curse that day and the following ones you spent with him. Of course you couldn't imagine that your perfect relationship would turn into such a nightmare, your ex used to be so kind and loving with you at the beginning, not even close to the obsessive, pleading mess that's keeping you trapped in utter fear right now. Jealousy can sometimes turn into such an obsession evidently, it can change people and you never expected something like this to happen in your life. Everything only got worse when after almost a year in your toxic relationship, you found the courage to finally break up with him. 
Weeks had passed since the last time Ray had disgusted you with his threatening messages and unexpected visits during work, you were almost convinced he had found another hobby but as a matter of fact, you were wrong. 
He understood that you can ignore his messages or even block his number for good, that you won't listen to him when Hani or your clients are around, but you certainly won't be able to ignore his forced presence, especially now that you're totally alone. He knows he has your undivided attention in this way.
He slurs something but you can't even pay attention. His inked arms are situated on each side of your head, while he looks down at you with desperate eyes. You don't even recognize him anymore. He used to take extra care of his appearance and health back when you two used to date, but now it seems like he is facing a grave problem with drinking. His body is close to yours, way too close for your liking and his warm breath mixed with whatever alcohol he drank, almost makes you gag. 
The smell of his cologne is the only thing that's still the same and that you recognize, it hits your nostrils and it brings back memories that now only hurt.
“Y/N, baby- why do you keep ignoring me like this?” his voice is strained and his face is contorted in anger- or nostalgia, you can't even tell. "You're killing me and I always treated you well" He is trying to stop the thoughts that are clouding his mind, slurring out the words breathlessly.
"I fucking miss you! I don't know what else to do to make you mine again!" 
These words are filled with desperation and you hate it, his need for possession is crystal clear in his statements. He threatened you multiple times saying that if you didn't get back together he would harm himself, claiming that the pain was too strong for him to bear, but he never said he wanted you back because he loved you, not even once. The only thing that he misses is controlling you, the only thing that he loves is taking away everything from you, putting himself at the center of your world.
He only wants to call you his, like a mere emotionless object. You hate it, you hate him.
He probably never wanted to take care of your heart as you believed and the realization that you were in love with him once, that his twisted feelings were strong for you but not in a healthy way, it makes you sick to your stomach. You should have known better, but you were blinded by your feelings.
There was a moment when you thought that you deserved this treatment, you told yourself that you allowed all of this because you were too naive to notice that those toxic feelings were poisoning your persona, till it was too late and they suffocated you, caging you. 
"G-get away from me" you manage to say in a small voice as your heart thunders in your ears. Your stomach twists in a knot when you sense his moving hands. The fear turns into pure horror when his hands find their way to rest on your cheeks a little too harshly and you instinctively hold your breath.
His drunken lips crash into yours with urgency, and you feel like you might throw up at all the disgusting sensations you are experiencing right now. Your body reacts of its own accord, rejecting this desperate, unwanted kiss before he could deepen it or do something worse. 
“I said get away from me!” you scream in a broken voice as you try to push him away with all the strength you possess. 
Ray is looking at you, almost surprised that you had the courage to reject him. Despite your effort he doesn't budge much, it's like his feet are planted to the ground. 
You're not able to meet his bloodshot eyes as you desperately try to free yourself. He's mumbling something that you can't quite comprehend and then his heavy hands are pushing your shoulders against the cold glass of the shop entrance, once again.
You didn't know you were crying until your vision started to blur with tears. This feeling of helplessness is the same one that kept you stuck in Ray's twisted love for months. 
Red flags were scattered all around, he started by making you doubt your abilities as an artist to then insistently ask you to pass all your male clients to Hani, co-owner of the shop as well as your best friend ever since you were children. She was the one who covered up your lies with Ray, as you tried to keep your clients aways from his madness.
He bulldozed everything around you, but Hani always stayed by your side, refusing to believe Ray's lies. She was your sturdy pillar when everything around you was falling apart. 
It was when Ray began to spread heavy lies about her, to lead you to break the agreements and contract with her, that you finally understood the gravity of the situation, that he was capable of totally ruining your life if you allowed him to manipulate you further. 
The threatening texts and stalking episodes that followed are nothing compared to what keeping a relationship with him could have entailed.
You're not sure when Ray started behaving in a toxic manner, cause you still remember the rosy beginning of your relationship and everything was just fine. Hani says she started noticing changes when he decided to surprise you one day at the shop and found the both of you engaged in a simple conversation with some male regulars. This evidently made him very jealous, because from that moment, the ordeal began. 
Your thoughts and sobbing are interrupted when Ray goes from mumbling pleas to insulting you with hatred, while his hands squeeze your shoulders as if to make sure to imprint on your skin all that he is feeling for you. 
You're not sure how you managed to free yourself from his grip, next thing you know you're running with all the strength you have left in your body, abandoning the alley of the shop to find a safer place. You hear him calling your name a couple of times as you put more and more distance between you. You fear that he might follow you and block you once again and the mere thought of finding yourself defenseless in the arms that once wrapped you with apparent affection, is enough to make new tears flow down your cheeks. 
The streets are almost empty and after reaching one that is well illuminated by shop signs, you look around to make sure he is not after you. When you make sure he is nowhere to be found, you grab your phone with shaky hands to call your best friend. You keep walking down the sidewalk as you try to calm your crying. 
“Y/N?” 
After a few rings, Hani answers the phone and hearing her voice ruins your desperate attempt to stay calm. You let out a liberating cry as you tell her that Ray really went too far this time. 
You knew that Hani had a date with her boyfriend, Taehyung, who she met several months ago at the shop. Tae got a tattoo from her and from that moment they became inseparable. You knew they were going out to dinner and you feel bad ruining their date like this, but they are the only people you can trust who know everything about your struggles with your ex.
Hani speaks quickly but gently on the phone, she clearly tries to keep calm while she tells you to go to the bar that you often visit after work, located just a few minutes away from the shop. She reassures you, telling you that they would be there as soon as possible. 
“Don't hang up until you get there, okay?” Hani adds, she can probably sense how shaken you are by what just happened and leaving you alone, even if it's over the phone, is out of question.
“I'm almost there,” you reply weakly through your sobs as you keep walking. You dry your face and try to normalize your breathing when you reach the small street where the bar is located. It's a quiet little place that holds countless memories for you and Hani, it was there that you and her celebrated the purchase of your tattoo shop a few years ago and it's where you return whenever you feel the need to unplug for a moment, while remaining in an familiar environment that makes you feel at ease. 
You walk through the entrance still holding your phone to your ear. The warmth hits your limbs pleasantly while lounge music and the smell of beer begin to envelop you like a blanket. 
On the other end of the phone you hear a loud windy noise and you deduce that Hani has already gotten on the motorcycle with Tae and that they are therefore about to arrive.
You feel a little calmer.
You end the call, knowing that Hani can't hear you and instead you opt for a text, informing her you'll wait for them at your usual spot. 
When you scan the place, you're glad it's only a tuesday as there are only a few people. You reach the slightly more secluded area of the place and you sit at your favorite table. The place is filled with fairy lights hanging above your head, their light hitting the brickstone of the walls and the wooden furniture just right, giving a cozy vibe that you always liked.
You then take off your jacket and your bag before sitting down, glad to have some dividers shielding you as you feel the aftermath of the adrenaline rush coming to you, all your strength drains away. Your shoulders ache from the tension and because of Ray's grip on them, your feet throb from the wild run and your heart continues to beat like a concert is taking place inside your ribs. You lean on the table with your elbows as you bring your hands to your head to massage your temples.
How could you ever imagine to find yourself in a similar situation?
You naively refused to believe that Ray was capable of hurting you in any way. He was too sweet and helpful with you at the beginning to think he was evil, your shared passion for arts was the core of your relationship and you also learned something new about the art of tattooing thanks to him. You were grateful for all the help he gave you in the shop. Ray is also objectively hot and the physical attraction and sexual chemistry were very strong between you.
Everything was pretty perfect.
Too much indeed, to the point that thinking about it now you wonder how you didn't notice how much the whole thing was stinking a mile away. You couldn't imagine that behind his perfect appearance and behavior, there was such an obsessed manipulator. You truly believed that he loved you like you loved him.
You sigh, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hands. Whatever he has done now, you're sick to ask help from the cops, they did nothing useful when you needed them in the past.
"We can't handcuff a guy without clear evidence that he's acting in bad faith, he's a heartbroken young man trying to win his girlfriend back!" 
These were the words they said only two months ago, when you tried to report his constant messages and stalking episodes. Nobody did anything. They dwelt mostly on the threats he sent, on the fact that he said he was going to hurt himself if you didn't answer or consider getting back together with him and they also didn't think his repeated visits were something to worry about, since he used to do that when you were still together, in their opinion.
They even had the courage to tell you that you guys are young, that people are made to make mistakes and learn from them and all that bullshit people say when they need  to give air to their mouths. 
They made him seem like the victim here and you are so sick to deal with this bullshit, you'd rather lock yourself home and never get out than asking their useless help once again. 
You don't feel safe anyway, neither without nor with them.
You've resigned to the idea that you can't count on them and that you must do something yourself, but what can you do against a much taller and stronger guy?
You shiver at the thought but then your attention is drawn by a soft voice.
“Hey,” when you lift your head, your gaze softens as it meets your best friend's face. She promptly sits next to you without even taking off her motorcycle jacket and gloves and she pulls you into her arms.
"I swear if I see him around I'll gouge out his eyes and make earrings out of them." 
Hani states as she continues to soothe you in her embrace. A little smile creeps on your face, mostly because you know that she would be perfectly capable of doing what she just said. 
She is scary sometimes, but you love her nonetheless. 
You feel an extra hand caressing your shoulder "That's a creepy way to do some recycling but I approve" Taehyung adds in a lighter tone, when you move to look at him you notice he is looking down at you with a sad smile on his face.
Since Tae started dating Hani, he has become a dear friend to you, you love the natural way he takes care of her, and you appreciate the several times he came to your rescue, having a fight with Ray to defend you. He is a good friend. You smile at him but the smile doesn't reach your puffy reddened eyes. 
It's nice to know that your friends are always there for you, you feel so helpless though, so fragile right now. 
Tae orders the usual for the three of you and some snacks from a passing waiter, and then he joins you and Hani at the table, both of them ready to listen to you.
“Thank you guys for coming- I'm sorry I ruined your date.” you feel guilty and your voice is still trembling a little bit. 
“Don't even joke about it, Y/N.” Tae's tone is almost scolding as he fixes their motorcycle jackets next to him. 
“You know that Tae and I see each other almost every day," Hani says "You don't have to worry about that.” 
“It's just that I- I never felt so weak before” you admit as your eyes begin to shine again, unshed tears gathering on the rim of your lower eyelid, threatening to fall at any moment. 
“I tried to push him away when he kissed me.” the memory of his lips on yours makes you shudder, so much so that you can't believe that there was a time instead when you craved those lips all over your body. 
"I was barely able to push him off of me." Hani and Tae keep listening, anger readable on their faces as you recount what happened. You manage to speak on the verge of crying, your eyes glimmer but this time you find the strength to keep your tears at bay. You feel anger taking over your fear right now, that's probably why you refuse to cry over your disgusting ex and his demeanor yet again.
Hani interjects, stating that she'll do all the closing at the shop with you from now on, adding that she's starting to consider buying you some pepper spray, so you can empty it on his face if he shows up again.
The waiter returns with your orders and some water, telling you to call him back if you need anything else. He seems to have noticed your mood and doesn't want to interfere too much while remaining at your service anyway. You thank him with a warm smile before he goes back to doing his job elsewhere.
“Pepper spray is a good idea and you should buy it if it makes you feel a little safer," Tae begins "but I have another idea.” he adds before sipping his drink.
“I have a friend who races with me who also owns a gym, he even teaches kids how to throw good punches and stuff.”
You had almost completely forgotten that Tae participates in a regional motorcycle racing championship every year, Hani did nothing but talk about it at the beginning of their relationship. 
Hani nods vigorously after taking a sip of her own drink, agreeing with her boyfriend. 
"It wouldn't be a bad idea actually!" she says “Punching the shit out of that dick head would be even more satisfying!”
Tae fishes his wallet out of his jacket pocket and then rummages through its folds. When he finds what he was looking for, he places a business card on the table and pushes it towards you. 
"Jungkook took care of the gym full time before also dedicating himself to racing" he explains "Now there is a guy who helps him with the management, but he prefers to take care of the main courses himself"
You collect the business card while pondering what to do. Taking some boxing lessons might help you boost your confidence, your strength and it might be a good distraction as well.
"It's not that far from the shop" you recognize the name of the gym having passed in front of it a few times while you wanted to buy breakfast in a nearby coffee shop before your shift at work. You could use the opportunity to learn something new that you could also use to your advantage if needed.
You listen while Tae tries to explain what he knows about the gym, telling you that his friend Jungkook mainly handles the children's class in the early afternoon and the adult's class that starts at 7pm. That wouldn't be bad for you, since your closing time is around 6 pm, cleaning up and preparing the shop for the next day won't take much time.
“If you decide to try, tell him I sent you,” Tae continues “I can already tell you tho- Jungkook loves to joke, sometimes a little too much, but he's a good guy and knows how to be serious when necessary” 
You slightly nod, looking back at the piece of paper in your hands. 
You can try, and if you don't like it you can always leave. 
You can grab an uber or whatever to reach the place and to go back home. It should be fine if you book it a little earlier, so you don't have to wait alone outside.
"Okay," you suddenly say "I think I'll give it a try." 
Hani and Tae both smile, visibly content with your choice.
"Do you want me to walk you there?" Hani asks "It'll be a 30ish minute walk" You accept Hani's proposal without thinking too much.
"How about thursday?" you add "We can go together and then I'll get organized with uber and stuff"
Hani agrees, then she drifts her attention to Tae, who starts to discuss with her the time and place he will be coming to pick her up after she drops you at the gym.
The evening continues normally, you regain your tranquility bit by bit, even tho there is always a pinch of sadness and anger bothering you in the back of your mind. Sharing some quiet moments with your friends managed to cheer you up enough to genuinely laugh at the silly bickering between the two lovebirds. 
You can't help but wonder if you'll be able to get over this mess anytime soon.
When it's time to go home, Hani decides that she will be spending the night with you at the apartment you once shared for more than a year, before she started to crash often at Tae's.
Ray could always decide to make the situation worse by showing up at your door, you think. If he decides to do so, Hani could create those famous eyeballs-earrings much sooner, she said. The joke makes you all chuckle, you are happy to have them by your side, gosh- you truly are grateful.
Spending time with them definitely improved your mood and you feel like you can overcome this bad period of your life, with time and patience. 
You thank Tae who waited for your uber to arrive before putting on his helmet and get on his motorcycle.
You feel incredibly tired but hopeful, this new experience could really help you on multiple fronts.
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September 14th, Thursday
When you wake up, you feel like you've slept for barely 2 hours, but it's been like this since the whole stalking shit started, so. You lack your usual enthusiasm, that unbridled desire to create works of art on other people's skin, it's slowly vanishing away and that worries you. 
You do your best to react though. The day goes by better than yesterday, your appointments at the shop flow smoothly one after the other and some potential customers have come to ask for some info on the costs of piercings, something Hani mainly manages. 
You keep your mood up to meet your customers' requests, to smile and make them feel comfortable.
You are finishing the last touches on the skin of your last client of the day when, looking up at the clock hanging on the wall, you realize that soon it will be time to close, you shudder a little even if you know that Hani will close the shop with you this time, it's been only two days after all, the events are still too fresh. You let the buzzing sound of the pen distract you as you fill the last bit of skin with ink.
In no time, the shop is empty and silent again, except for Hani who has the pleasant habit of humming as she tidies up her side of the shop. You finish cleaning your station while your mind wanders. You think that it was so natural and easier to enjoy the peace of this place before. 
This has always been a safe place for you, your very home. Of course, the concept of home is usually a place where you don't do your job, where you sleep, eat and rest. You pay the rent for the apartment, but this is still where you spend most of your time, this is that place that you know you will never leave, that you feel it's yours, that when you walk through the door makes you feel in your element.
It shouldn't be that difficult now, it's still the same shop, but the need to hide your appointments to avoid arguments with your ex in the past and the fear you began to feel as time passed, have tarnished what this place means to you. Your face drops in sadness at the thought. You want to go back to loving this place like you've always done at all costs and find some serenity again. Tattooing has always been your passion, something that sadly distanced you from your parents, who always wished you would pursue a different career. You won't let Ray ruin what you accomplished with sacrifices.
The shop shines when you're done, you pick up the bag previously prepared for the gym and you and Hani close the shop together. 
You hope these lessons can help you release some stress.
Hani walks by your side, talking about everything and nothing, sharing a little laugh when you tell her that you can't wait to punch a sandbag imagining Ray's face. 
The evening is pleasantly chilly and you're almost at the gym when you ask Hani if she wants you to wait with her for Tae to arrive.
“Don't worry I'll meet him at the corner,” she reply "besides, the class has already started, you should head inside."
You look at your phone, realizing it's way past 7:30pm already and you begin to feel a little anxious. Hani then tells you to call her or Tae if you need anything, even if they're going to spend the evening at the movies, she makes sure that you know you can always rely on them.
You nod, smiling "Thanks for being there Hani, I don't know how I'd have reacted to all of this alone" You truly don't know. Hani waves her hand "Don't even joke abaut it" she replies, mirroring your smile. 
"You even talk like Tae now!"
She rolls her eyes but she knows you are just teasing her.
“I want to know everything about your first lesson tomorrow!” she emphatically throws a few empty and totally random punches. You giggle at the scene shaking your head “Sure sure- I’ll show you what I learn.” 
“As long as you don't punch me, I'm fine with it.” You push her playfully and then you say goodbye as she walks away and you enter the gym.
It seems like a recently renovated place. You expected the usual smell of sweat and plastic typical of the gyms, but you are actually surprised to catch a fresh hint of flowers in the air. You notice a small reception near the entrance door, a well decorated counter with all sorts of flyers on top and red and blue led lights that illuminate the gym logo in the front, but there is no one behind the counter to welcome you. 
You take a few steps through an arch that leads to what is apparently the main area of the gym. 
The floor is mostly covered with a rubber tatami and you see some hanging plants and flower pots by the walls, which explains the very subtle smell in the air. Different tools and dumbbells are scattered around while several people are engaged in exercises of various kinds in front of some floor to ceiling mirrors.
You scan the place, pleased by the vibe it radiates. It surely is strange to find so many flowers and plants in a place like this, but it gives an original touch to it. Your gaze lands on a bunch of guys wearing boxing gloves while observing the explanation of an exercise. The one that's explaining, according to Tae's description, should be his friend Jungkook, who is standing in front of them while performing the exercise in question as an example.
Wow. Those are some wide shoulders right there. 
You watch him intently as the dark haired guy moves. Something about his movements is attractive and you guess it's just him when he turns around and you notice the lip ring that Tae had told you about and the right arm completely full of colorful tattoos that you are already dying to curiously inspect. Yup, he's hot.
You watch him from the entrance as he performs the exercise with ease, his muscles flex and you can glimpse at them while his clothes deliciously wrap around his body. Tae could have warned you, it's gonna be hard to concentrate with this guy.
Jungkook almost seems to sense your gaze on him when, once his explanation is over, he turns towards the entrance you are standing at and your eyes meet for a moment. You tense up cursing at yourself, gawking at a complete stranger at the gym is creepy, But then you notice he's smiling while he approaches you and the group of guys he left is now performing the exercise.
"Can I help you?" 
Of course, even his voice had to be hot. Fuck. You shift on your spot, clutching the bag you're carrying on your shoulder as you hope the warmth you're feeling on your face doesn't color your cheeks.
"You must be Jungkook," you reply, feeling a little awkward. Why even the sound of your own voice sounds stupid to you right now, damn.
"In the flesh." he responds confidently, pushing his hair back with his fingers.
Ok, now it's fucking clear as day that this guy knows very well that he is good looking and that he has an effect, which makes you think that he must be used to the women eating him up with their eyes.
"And you are?" he asks with curiosity laced in his voice. 
"Uh sorry, I'm Y/N" you compose your thoughts trying to ignore the increasing awkwardness you feel explaining that "Taehyung told me about your class and I would like to give it a try." 
"Kim Taehyung? Are you two friends?" He seems surprised as his eyebrows raise.
“Yeah, his girlfriend is my best friend.” 
Jungkook chuckles by himself, amused by something you ignore. 
"You're the tattoo artist, aren't you?" he asks, smiling as if he figured a puzzle or something like that.
“Did he say I was coming?”
“Not exactly,” Jungkook replies “but I met your best friend at Tae's a few times and I heard her say your name while speaking to Tae.” He seems pleased by the coincidence. 
The fact that he remembers this small thing doesn't surprise you that much, but you start to feel anxious wondering if he happened to hear something related to your situation with Ray, you'd rather avoid talking about it. It's already difficult to deal with it with your friends, but most of all, you don't need compassion.
Jungkook observes you momentarily, and almost as if he sensed the drift of your thoughts, he beckons you to follow him towards a freer area of the gym. You follow him till you reach a set of gloves neatly arranged in one corner. 
“Can I see your hands?” he asks casually.
"Sure." You leave the bag you're carrying on your shoulder on the ground, moving it to the side so it's not in the way, then you bring your hands forward with your palms facing up to let him observe them. Jungkook gently gathers your hands, and his touch is so delicate you barely feel it. He observes carefully, humming while he tries to figure out which pair of boxing gloves would fit you well.
It's not even a proper touch, it almost feels like the slight tickle that a feather would give and it's... pleasant. You're not completely indifferent as his fingers continue to brush the back of your hands, the sensation making you feel a little shy even though he is just looking at your hands and nothing more.
"Try these" His fingers leave you to take and offer you a particular pair of boxing gloves that he thinks might fit you. You inspect them briefly, wincing a little at the sweaty feel that envelops your hands as you put them on. 
You feel your hands swimming inside, indicating that they are too big for you. You look at Jungkook asking “Do you have a slightly smaller pair?” Jungkook seems to have already considered the possibility that these were too big. He is giggling as he hands you another pair of seemingly smaller and more colorful boxing gloves and you see him try to bite back the smile that's on his pink lips. You can't help but think that the way he scrunches up his nose is actually cute.
You switch up the gloves with the colorful one, immediately understanding why he was chuckling like that. “I know, it's a big problem for me,” you admit, chuckling at your own hands, “I can't find latex gloves that fit perfectly 'cause of this” He laughs with you, amused by the smile that formed on your face when you noticed that the gloves he gave you are for children, specifically a blue and red spiderman themed pair. 
"Using the words 'big problem" just made the whole thing funnier!"
"Well, I'll throw spider punches today." you joke.
Jungkook let's out a small laugh as he is looking at you with something in his eyes, you're probably the first grown up who needs kid's gloves and you catch him subtly checking you out.
This sense of lightness, simple yet helpful for your tired mind, is doing some good to you, you can feel it as you notice that you're exchanging genuine smiles and gazes since you started talking.
You follow him, avoiding to step on the tatami with your shoes as you approach the corner with different punch bags. He stands next to you in front of one of the standing punch bags available.
“Alright- so, there's no need to throw hard punches, for now just show me how you throw them.”
"But I don't know how!" you admit.
"Exactly, I want to see your natural movements, to understand what we'll have to work on'' Jungkook replies as he crosses his arms on his chest. The motion captures your eyes for a moment too long. That sleeve tattoo looks perfectly done and you barely refrained to take a closer look, the delicious way his tatted muscles are popping out of his white t-shirt is too distracting.
"Now show me how those little hands would hit the bag" his tone has slightly changed and he is smirking at you. He's teasing purposely and you think you saw him winking at you, or maybe you just imagined it. You roll your eyes as an attempt to save yourself from the embarrassment of being caught gawking at him like that. 
You ignore the persistent warmth on your cheeks and try to remember the movements you saw earlier, as he explained to those guys. They seemed to get into position before they did anything else, so you try to imitate the movements you remember as best as you can.
You bring your left arm across your chest as your right arm punches the punch bag in front of you with ease. Jungkook's face is fully concentrated, he hums as he nods a couple of times, his gaze lost as he ponders on the movements he just saw. 
“Okay, first of all- your left arm.” Jungkook moves, putting himself between you and the punch bag. 
"Get back in position again, the one before you throw the punch" 
You promptly do what he asked, repeating the previous movements once again. You stop when your arms are folded like before and you're ready to throw the punch. Jungkook's hands move as he says "Relax your shoulders." and then they gently rest on you.
This time his touch is not a simple featherlike brush, you feel the weight of his hands resting delicately on your skin and you stiffen at the contact. He said you should relax, but his hands on you caused the opposite reaction.
Ray and his hands come to your mind, the feeling of him holding you against the glass door is fogging your thoughts again, even though Jungkook's touch is soft and gentle on you.
You wince a little, taking a step back instinctively. Jungkook immediately withdraws his hands, sensing your discomfort. 
"S-sorry, I was trying to correct your posture, I didn't mean to-"
“No- it's fine" you interrupt him, suppressing the negative emotions that started to poison your guts.
You really want to focus and learn and until now, you had no idea your ex's behavior has affected you up to this point. 
Jungkook watches you dubiously, you can't decipher the expression adorning his beautiful face right now, he seems worried, thoughtful, maybe he's wondering what kind of an idiot would want to learn how to throw punches and then reacts like this at the slightest physical contact. 
The idea of having to give up because of this sensation, pisses you off. You gulp the lump on your throat while you close your eyes briefly, then you resume the position, being careful to relax your shoulders this time.
"Better?" you ask in a calm voice. Jungkook nods with a faint smile on his face. Even if he probably noticed there's something wrong, you're glad he's not asking questions. 
"What else wasn't right?" 
Jungkook notices your determination to continue and returns to your side again, opting for a demonstrative explanation this time.
He moves his body naturally and you observe him carefully. His movements are so precise and satisfying to watch and the desire to learn, to achieve more or less this naturalness, gives you the right push to continue. Most of all, now that you know that Ray left this horrible sensation on your skin, you're determined to get rid of it. 
Jungkook explains the importance of taking a correct position, to be able to hurt and not get hurt. A faint smile returns to your face at his way of explaining this kind of thing with passion and care. 
You imitate his movements by moving your left foot forward, your left arm at your chest like before but slightly higher, until your glove touches the side of your chin. When you feel that you have planted your foot well on the ground, with a slight movement of your shoulders, you accompany your right fist towards the bag, also rotating your pelvis slightly.
And just like that, you land a perfect punch on the punch bag.
Jungkook cheers softly so as not to disturb the others but his satisfaction is evident. You smile to see him so taken for so little, but you have to admit that you feel pumped, and yes- it was only one perfectly landed punch.
“That's a great start!” he adds enthusiastically. 
"So even small hands can throw some good punches huh!" You laugh softly and Jungkook joins you, genuinely amused.
"I'm sure those little punches will be able to do a lot of harm soon!" he declares "If you wanna join the gym, of course." 
This is what you needed to hear, it gives you courage, you can't wait to feel totally comfortable with your abilities, you're ready to commit to this and Jungkook saw it, when you eagerly said "Of course I want!"
That -little episode- long forgotten when you two started to talk comfortably that evening. Jungkook took some time to explain how and when he gives his lessons and to show you around the gym as well as the female's locker room, making sure you knew you could use everything you wanted once you felt comfortable enough to train alone.
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From that day, you started going to the gym almost regularly. To be honest, as time passed, you couldn't wait to get back on that tatami to train after work, it soon became a healthy habit.
And, on the other side, you could see Jungkook.
You like having him around, you and him started bantering all the time almost instantly. You got used to his presence and his ways of teasing pretty fast and he's been a breath of fresh air for you. You've been attracted to him since day one, you're not gonna lie, but he soon became some kind of a friend. 
Yeah, that kind of friend you'd gladly rip their clothes off, but whatever.
The lethal mix of wide shoulders, buff body, lip ring, tatted arm and that sweet face of his when he smiles and scrunch up his cute nose… 
Yup, you're kinda crushing on him and training with him almost everyday it's quite challenging.
You two share a nice friendship, but it's clear that something else is hidden underneath. The constant glances and flirty jokes at the gym are proof of that and from time to time you also catch him pretending not to be looking at your butt. 
You are more at ease now and that's also thanks to him and his lessons.
Everything seems to be falling back to place, if not an even better one. 
Ray has been silent since that night outside the shop. No messages, no calls, no unexpected visits, no nothing. The fear to meet him again is still persistent and sometimes the horrible things he did to you still haunt your mind, but you're now able to manage to get rid of it in no time. You're more confident, you sleep better and you're learning a bunch of new stuff that keeps your mind busy.
You feel like you're able to breathe again, like you got your life back in your hands. 
Hani walked with you to the gym a few more times after the first time, but you soon started to book an uber to go and get back. It wasn't difficult to get into a rhythm: you book it through your phone a little earlier, so you don't have to wait outside and that's it, like this you're able to close the shop and get into the car immediately and when you have to go back home, you take a shower at the gym, say your goodbyes and head outside, where your uber is already waiting for you. Simple and effective.
Just to be extra sure, you leave your lessons a little earlier, like at 9pm instead of 10pm. Better safe than sorry.
Jungkook never asked the reason why you always leave early, not explicitly at least. Sometimes he's teased you by asking if you quit training early to fight crime with your cute hands, a recurring joke you always involuntarily smile at. Tae had warned you after all, Jungkook jokes a lot and in all this time spent at the gym, training with him, you had the opportunity to see for yourself.
There's something though that seems to creep behind his eyes every now and then and you can't quite put your finger on what. Sometimes he seems extremely thoughtful or even sad, even a few moments after he just cracked a joke. 
You never had the courage to ask, just like he never asked why you reacted like that the first time he touched you. You don't want to ask him what's bothering him and apparently he doesn't want to ask you either. Jungkook began to invade your thoughts just like that, with ease, and this hidden mystery behind his beautiful brown eyes keeps drawing you to him more and more.
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taexual · 2 months
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sleepwalking ● 17 | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers
warnings: explicit language and depictions of medical treatment (mentions of an IV, not overly descriptive), fluff (!), angst, A LOT of pent-up emotions, SLOW BURN
words: 15.5k (help)
read from the beginning ○ masterlist
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chapter 17 ► looking sideways when i say i’m okay with the past, but i’m afraid of what i might say if you ask
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When you regained consciousness, it took you a few more minutes to understand what was happening.
In your hazy mind, the first clear thought you could grasp was a memory: Jungkook had gotten into a fight. Instinctively, you imagined yourself standing up and finding him. Not because your job required you to—honestly, you weren’t sure what job you even had at this point, your mind hadn’t sorted itself out yet—but because you wanted to see if he was okay.
You tried to open your eyes, but the room was spinning, and you felt a little queasy from the unexpected vertigo.
You shut your eyes again and tried to focus on your other senses—as best as you could without moving—hoping that this would answer some of the new questions forming in your mind.
You did not know where you were or how you got here, but the room was warm. The lack of proper ventilation made the air feel stuffy.
You didn’t hear any background noise, so you assumed you weren’t at a hospital. But you could hear a lot of shouting in the room. You thought you discerned three different voices, but they were all talking over each other, so it was hard to tell.
You were lying on something soft but scratchy, and a heavy duvet pressed you into the bed. It felt comforting, but you were starting to sweat.
Someone’s hand was on your wrist, their fingers cold.
Reflexively, you squeezed their hand.
“Don’t move,” someone whispered right next to you. Jungkook, you realised. “We’ve called a doctor.”
Your initial reaction was relief. He was here, so he had to be okay.
Your next reaction, however, was pure panic. You didn’t need a doctor. You just needed a minute.
“We should have taken her to a hospital,” another voice argued. “I’ll never forgive you if anything happens to her.”
That had to be Luna, you were sure of it. Your eyes remained closed, but you could envision your friend with her arms crossed over her chest, regarding the boy next to you with a scorching glare.
You didn’t like this mention of a hospital.
You squeezed Jungkook’s hand again, but even as he tried to explain to Luna that you would go on a particularly bloody rampage if he took you to a hospital—he had a point and you would have felt grateful if you hadn’t been so distressed—she still wasn’t hearing him.
You opened your mouth and felt your chapped lips tighten painfully.
“No hospital, please,” you croaked in the voice of someone who had been a successful chain smoker for over fifty years.
You heard Luna whisper-yell, “you’re unbelievable, the both of you!” and you tried to open your eyes again, but nothing had changed. It still felt a bit like gravity had taken a day off as the room and everyone around you continued to float.
You heard a faint voice that you did not recognise, and from the official tone and the immediate chill you felt inside, you deduced that it was the doctor.
“I’m going to administer a very mild sedative,” he said—to whom, you weren’t sure. Your insides felt very heavy. “And set up a drip. Make sure she doesn’t move much or the catheter will—oh, see, like that. That can’t happen.”
Your muscles spasmed involuntarily. Something pricked your arm. You didn’t mind needles, but you did not like IVs. You didn’t need to be sedated.
“I don’t think—” you tried to say when you felt something cold on your arm—the doctor’s hands, presumably, in very unpleasant, squeaky latex gloves. “I don’t think I need this.”
“Can you open your eyes for me, please?” the doctor asked.
“No,” you said with what you hoped was a shake of your head. In reality, you merely wrinkled your nose. “T-that is not something I can do right now. But in a—”
“Your body needs rest,” the doctor explained. Jungkook moved closer until he was clutching your hand with both of his. “It won’t knock you out, but it will relax you, make you a little drowsy. That will likely help you fall asleep naturally. Is that all right?”
You lacked the strength to tell him that you were already very tired—or the strength to tell him that you still had things to do, so you couldn’t just sleep.
The memory of the flooding at the venue in Manchester came back to your mind and your muscles tensed again.
Really, you were about to refuse, but there was hardly anything you disliked more than inconveniencing people. They had invited a doctor for you. He was just doing his job.
“Okay,” you said in quiet defeat.
“Your friends are in the room with you,” the doctor said. You felt a cold sensation on your arm. “They will stay with you and make sure you get plenty of rest. Even after you wake up, you must spend as much time in bed as you possibly can.”
“Don’t phrase it like that,” you heard Jungkook object. “Give us a specific time, or she’ll be out of bed as soon as she wakes up.”
Silence followed. You tried to imagine what was happening. Jungkook must have looked very eager—in his exaggerated manner, which resembled desperation rather than hope. Luna probably nodded in agreement. The doctor, if he was kind enough, smiled at them patiently.
“Two days,” he finally stated. “Today and tomorrow, at the very least. If she has to walk, someone should accompany her. But don’t keep her on her feet for too long. I’ve seen the crowd of people outside this room—don’t tire her out. There should only be one or two people in the room with her, all right? Proper nutrition, sufficient sleep, and a—”
You felt yourself drifting off, and the doctor’s words faded and merged together until you were no longer sure whether you were imagining what a doctor would say in this situation, or if he was actually speaking.
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When you opened your eyes again, Luna and Maggie were seated in the armchairs next to your bed. The room had stabilised, allowing you to take in your surroundings before Luna glanced up from her phone and Maggie pulled out her earpods, noticing that you were awake.
The space around you appeared to be a hotel room. Next to the bed stood a metal bar with bags of faint yellow liquid on it. A catheter was attached to your arm and an intravenous line led to it from the drip. You shivered at the sight of it.
“Oh!” Luna’s gasp drew your attention back to her. She dropped her phone on her seat and straightened up. “How are you feeling?”
Right away, Maggie jumped up and removed her earpods.
“Confused,” you spoke and immediately tried to clear your prickly throat.
Maggie leapt forward and grabbed an empty glass from the bedside table. She poured some water from one of the three bottles on the floor and handed it to you.
You couldn’t remember the last time you had water. It tasted heavenly.
“You’re in a hotel room,” Luna explained as you drank. Maggie sat down on the armrest of her friend’s chair. “In Manchester.”
The mention of the city made you glare at her, and both girls breathed a sigh of relief. At least you knew where you were in a broader sense.
“It’s 7 PM,” Luna said after checking her phone. “The band has a day off tomorrow because the concert’s been postponed—”
“Because of the flooding,” you finished, leaning forward to put the glass back on the table. “I remember, Luna. Thanks. What, um—how come I’m here?”
Luna looked at Maggie for a moment, wordlessly asking her to take over the story.
“Well, you fainted,” Maggie started. She wasn’t usually a woman of many words, and this time was no different, which you found comforting. If Maggie didn’t think it was necessary to talk for hours, then you must not have been doing that bad. “Jungkook found you.”
“Yeah,” Luna had to interject with more details—she was still irked about his decision to book a hotel room instead of a hospital room. “And then he spent half an hour describing your symptoms. It took the doctor all of one second to diagnose you with burnout and put you on a vitamin drip. He told us to keep you on bed rest and watch for any more nosebleeds or fainting spells. If they continue, you’ll need to go into urgent care.”
You wanted to ask questions—where did they find this doctor? Where was this hotel? What was happening at the venue?—but the girls were on a roll.
“Meanwhile, I wasn’t even allowed in the room,” Maggie said, returning to her chair and sitting down properly. She was upset that she had missed what Luna had just summarised for you. “The doctor told us that only one person could stay, but neither Luna, nor Jungkook agreed to leave. So, no one else could come in until you were feeling better.”
“Jungkook was the one who decided on the hotel room, by the way,” Luna remarked, seemingly glad to finally express her frustrations. “I argued. I think you should at least have a blood test done. What if you’re anaemic? But—”
“I’m not anaemic,” you finally interrupted as you settled back on the bed. The mattress quickly adjusted to the shape of your body. Closing your eyes, you had to admit that the bed was really quite comfortable. Perhaps you could stay here for a few more hours. “This has happened to me before. I’ll be fine.”
Luna sighed. Her knowledge of the last time this had happened to you came from Jungkook’s haphazard stream of thought as he tried to explain to the doctor that the two of you had been in this exact situation before—you, unconscious, and he, on the verge of losing his mind.
Honestly, for a moment, Luna thought the doctor had considered sedating Jungkook instead of you.
“I knew you were going to say that,” she muttered after a minute. “Jungkook seemed to believe you’d shoot us all dead if we took you to a hospital.”
Gratitude bubbled up in your chest, but when you saw your friend’s solemn features, you tried to soften your response.
“I wouldn’t have shot you,” you said. “I would have smothered you all with pillows."
Maggie scoffed, and Luna rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips still turned up.
“Nice to see you haven’t gained a sense of humour while you were out,” Maggie teased.
“Ha,” you responded dryly—but you were smiling, too.
Luna crossed her legs on the armchair to get more comfortable. She glanced at Maggie anxiously. The girls weren’t sure if they were tiring you out with their conversation, but you were looking up at the ceiling, not indicating that you were tired in any way, so they decided to continue.
“So, want to tell us how this happened, then?” Luna asked.
You turned your head to her. “I was hoping you’d tell me. I can’t exactly remember.”
“You fainted,” Maggie reminded you. Luna leaned over and gave her a pat on the arm, thanking her for this valuable reminder.
You smiled gently. “You mentioned that. Where’d the doctor come from?”
“Oh, Jungkook found one,” Maggie said. “There’s a clinic across the street from the venue. And this hotel is right next door.”
“Oh.”
A minute passed as you attempted to piece it all together.
You could not remember any of this, but the news that Jungkook had taken care of most things was not calming. He must have really been going out of his mind.
You were curious about where he was, but you didn’t want to ask. Your paranoid mind made you think that any question about Jungkook that was not related to Rated Riot was unnecessary and would, therefore, be misunderstood. Your friends already seemed like they were resisting a few additional comments for the sake of your health.
“So,” Luna started after a quiet minute, “how come you fainted?"
You exhaled and tried to scratch your eyebrow, but the catheter tugged painfully at your skin, and you winced instead.
You dropped your hand back down. “I-I... I guess I overestimated myself.”
Luna pushed the IV stand closer to your bed so you could have more freedom with your limbs. You nodded gratefully.
“You’re going to have to slow down,” Luna said. “It’s no longer negotiable, I’m afraid. If you don’t listen to us, we will take you to a hospital.”
It was the plural pronoun that bothered you the most, but you forced yourself to swallow your discomfort at disrupting the daily routines of your friends.
“I’ll be alright soon,” you said. “And I promise this won’t happen again.”
“It had better not,” Maggie chimed in. “And what’s with this hatred of hospitals? You don’t like that they’re full of people who want to help you feel better?”
“I don’t hate them,” you said, which wasn’t entirely true. Your experiences in hospitals included your mum crying, and you’d rather not relive that—not so soon after your brother broke his leg. “I just don’t have time for them. I’m okay.”
Luna gave you a stern look. Even Maggie, who was usually quite calm when you said you were fine, was glowering a little.
“Fine,” you conceded. “I’ll endure this drip and then I'll be okay. Thank you for being here.”
Luna made a deliberate scene of fixing the bags on the metal stand—clearly intending to emphasise the seriousness of your condition—and then lowered herself back into her armchair.
“You’re welcome,” she said.
Smiling at both of your girls—to distract them from further discussing your health—you said, “I love you.”
“We love you, too,” Maggie said. “And, babe, just so you know, it’s not just us. There was—everyone was here. The concierge nearly fainted when he saw us all in the hallway.”
Your smile quickly fell. “What do you mean, everyone?”
“We took care of it, don’t worry,” Luna interjected, sensing your growing panic. “Maggie and I talked to Seokjin, Jimin, and Namjoon, who then spoke to the rest of the staff and escorted them out. And Jungkook took care of his band.”
The panic lingered. Your job was solving crises, not causing them. You did not like this.
“He took care of them?” you repeated, swallowing.
“Well, they were very worried,” Luna explained, glancing at Maggie for help. Maggie only nodded, indicating her agreement. “And, uh, they were very loud, too. He told them to go and texted them updates every ten minutes.”
“God.” You closed your eyes and carefully tried to prop yourself up into a half-sitting position. “What updates? I was asleep.”
“That’s what he’s been texting them,” Luna explained. “Every ten minutes, on the dot. And then Taehyung texted me, asking why I kicked his best friend out of your room—which is ridiculous because I did not kick him out. But you’re my best friend, so technically, I would have had the right to kick him out if you were uncomfortable.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose with your hand and shook your head, an involuntary smile creeping onto your face at your friend’s protectiveness. “I’m comfortable. Thank you.”
“Are you going to see him?” Maggie asked.
You looked up at her. “Jungkook?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “He’s right behind the door, you know. Glued to the wall in the hallway.”
Your gaze slid down her dark blue jacket and focused on the mirror on the wall behind her. “Oh.”
“The doctor said he would need to go to the hospital, too, by the way,” Luna said, earning a surprised look from you. “He said the bandages around his head looked very threatening.”
You pressed your lips together. You’d expected that, but you still felt a fleeting twinge of disappointment—you’d covered his wounds to the best of your ability. And the bandages were honestly not the worst part of this.
“The doctor hasn’t even seen what’s underneath,” you said.
“He has now, actually,” Maggie replied. “He went to the emergency room about an hour ago to have them changed.”
You were too taken aback to properly understand her. “Jungkook did?”
“Yeah,” Luna said, pulling her phone out. Your mind tuned out her next few sentences as you struggled to come to terms with the fact that Jungkook had gone to the emergency room on his own accord. “—and he called us from the hospital. Apparently, he pestered the nurses with questions about what else we could do to help you feel better. They told him to leave, but he wanted to hear from us—in case we thought you needed anything. I wouldn’t be surprised if he brought a heart monitor here, just in case.”
Maggie snickered—but caught the serious looks on the faces around her and covered it up with a fractured cough—while you groaned and rubbed your eyes. You wouldn’t have been surprised, either.
You exhaled. “Yeah—I-I’ll see him. If that’s okay with you?”
Both girls nodded and got up from their seats. Before they went, however, they convinced you to accept their help to complete the difficult task—as you pointed out while rolling your eyes—of walking ten steps to the bathroom, and then ten steps back to your bed. Clearly, they were taking the doctor’s orders very seriously.
“We’ll be right outside,” Luna said once you settled back in bed. “Call or text—”
“No,” you protested. “You can’t—you don’t need to stay here. You’ve already done so much.”
“We were just sitting in your room with you,” Maggie said. “It’s hardly anything. Don’t worry about us.”
“It’s not hardly anything,” you disagreed. “At least get something to eat.”
The two girls looked at each other. Maggie shrugged and then looked back at you, still doubtful. You nodded with more conviction.
“We’ll pick up some food for everyone and come back,” Luna finally decided. “Okay?”
You nodded again. “Okay. Thank you.”
As soon as the girls opened the door to your hotel room, you heard shuffling outside—as if someone had been leaning right up against the door and scrambled away before it opened.
“You may come in,” Luna told Jungkook with excessive dramatics as she and Maggie turned to wave at you again.
You gave them another nod and watched as Jungkook tentatively walked inside. He turned to close the door behind him and lingered, for an awkward moment, at the entrance.
His bandages were fresh and none of the scantily wrapped bruises were visible any longer. Perhaps they would heal in time for the concert.
Before you could express your hopes out loud, however, Jungkook took a shaky breath and approached you.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what I would have done if—”
“W-why are you sorry?” you cut him off, disturbed by the absolute devastation in his voice.
He was right next to your bed now, barely able to inhale. “It’s—you—you fainted—and—it was because—I shouldn’t—”
It hit you, suddenly, why he was hyperventilating so much. And the shock of this realisation was so great that you could not react immediately, and he proceeded to stutter for another few moments.
“This—it has nothing—this isn’t about you,” you finally said, almost as coherent as he was.
Still, he persisted, “but I—you—I was—I should have—”
“I didn’t faint because of you, Jungkook,” you said more firmly. There were several reasons why he should have felt guilty, of course, but this was definitely not one of them.
He finally stopped speaking, although the rapid process of inhaling and exhaling—which caused his shoulders to hunch and straighten from the intensity of the motions—continued for another minute.
Then he gave you a long, uncertain look. You maintained eye contact and watched as his breathing gradually slowed. You had never seen him panic so much and so suddenly—he had seemed almost perfectly fine when he came in, but it took him all of two seconds to fall apart.
Slowly, he regained control of his breathing and looked you over once more.
“Okay,” he said, shifting his weight to his other leg. “I-I don’t know if that—if it makes me feel better, but—”
“Thank you,” you said.
Lost in his own thoughts, he craned his neck towards you. “Hm?”
“Luna and Maggie told me you’re the one who found me.”
Jungkook looked briefly embarrassed.
“I explicitly asked them not to tell,” he said.
You smiled. “I’m sure this was Force majeure, so don’t blame them. And they’re my best friends anyway.”
“Clearly.” He brought his hands down his face before admitting, “I just—I thought you wouldn’t want to see me.”
A part of you thought he was right to assume that. You shouldn’t want to see him.
But another part of you forced you to lower your gaze and twiddle your thumbs nervously as you linked your hands on your stomach.
“No, uh, see,” you began with a nervous chuckle. “That’s, uh—that’s almost the worst part of this whole thing. My plan, really, was to avoid you.”
Jungkook raised his eyebrows, then politely lowered them. He placed his hand on the back of the armchair and said, profoundly, “very mature.”
“You don’t get to judge,” you warned.
The corner of his lip quirked. “Just making an observation.”
“So, my plan was to avoid you,” you continued. “But we both know how that ended. And then I woke up here, sort of feeling like I was floating in a space station somewhere near Saturn, and you know what my first thought was?”
Jungkook thought he was floating in a space station somewhere near Saturn.
“Wh—um, what?” he asked.
“My first thought was if you were okay.”
You looked at him as you said that, and he thought he saw the rest of his life flash before his eyes—a life that, just a few days ago, he’d deemed meaningless.
Without any proper distractions, it was just him and his thoughts, and they were never good company. They hated him for losing you.
But then you fainted and now that you’ve regained consciousness, your first thought was if he was okay.
He didn’t trust his legs very much anymore.
“Can I sit?” he asked, a little breathless again.
You took a second to reply, and he interpreted it as a sign of hesitation. “You can.”
Suspicious, he asked, “will you try to leave if I sit?”
You gave him a questioning look and nudged your hand, causing the IV bags to wobble. “Does it look like I can move around with this?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “You might still try.”
You snorted and shook your head. “Just sit down, Jungkook.”
He sat down.
The two of you were a peculiar sight like this. If this were a role-playing video game, there would have been exclamation marks over your heads—and if you had been approached, the list of conversation starters the player could choose would have been, simply, endless.
There was so much you wanted to say and ask each other, but the strength of your resistance was absurdly impressive.
One thought, however, overwhelmed everything, and it was very simple: how little everything else mattered compared to your health.
Jungkook took a deep breath and looked at you, taking in your tired, but ceaselessly dreamlike features.
Slowly, he found himself calming down. As long as you were here, as long as you were okay, things would work out one way or another.
“I, um—your mum called, by the way,” Jungkook said. “I have your phone. It fell out of your jacket when I—when I found you.”
Right away, you felt a surge of panic. You and your mum had a deal. She knew you were busy, so she would text sometimes, but never call. Unless something had happened.
“My—she called me?” you repeated with so much concern that Jungkook noticed the drip stand shake a little from the force of your distress. “Did you answer?”
He felt his own hands return to their almost natural trembling. “Uh, well, as it happened—I did.”
“Why did she call? What happened?”
“Well, nothing,” he said. “She said she hadn’t heard from you in a while, and she was worried.”
Mother’s intuition, she had called it when she spoke to you. When you returned to your dorm after your hospital stay six years ago, she had called you because “for some reason” she couldn’t sleep for two nights in a row. She didn’t know you were ill, of course, but it touched you, this maternal feeling that transcended all logic.
It could have been a coincidence, you supposed. Lots of things were.
“What did you say?” you asked.
“I said you had a lot of things to take care of,” Jungkook replied. “But you’d call her when you had a free moment.”
You watched him as he spoke and noticed his eyes widen momentarily, clearly taken aback by what he’d just seen in your expression. You realised you hadn’t expected him to hide this from your mum, and your surprise must have shown.
Blinking, you turned away and gripped the edge of your duvet.
“Thank you,” you said.
“I also told her you’re very stressed,” he added quieter.
“Oh—well, that—you could have kept that to yourself,” you said, less enthusiastic about his thoughtfulness. “She’s going to freak out about it.”
“Let her,” he countered. “You’re her child. She’s worried about you. You have to let people worry about you when there’s a reason to.”
You had a different opinion, of course. But instead of arguing, you chose to find out what conclusions your mum had drawn from this brief exchange. She hadn’t heard from Jungkook directly in years, even though she knew you were working together.
“What did she—was she surprised to hear from you?” you asked.
Your question made Jungkook appear as if he was trying very hard to tap dance while sitting down. He bounced his legs, tapped his feet, and occasionally scratched something under his chin, above his nose, or on the back of his neck.
“Uh, well, we’re, um, you know,” he said. You were almost ready to assume that he was hiding something else. “You and me—w-we’re working together. She wasn’t that surprised.”
“Right, but I mean—”
“I told her not to worry too much, and that you’d love to hear from her,” he finished, skilfully diverting from the topic and speaking even louder so you wouldn’t have a chance to interject with another question. “She said she’d text you, and you should call her when you have a minute. Not right now, though. You’re resting now.”
Again, you tried, “I’m just—”
“She put Kai on the phone, too,” he added. “So, I talked to him for a second. He called you an idiot.”
That took a very unusual turn, you thought in surprise. Your mum hadn’t spoken to Jungkook in years, and now she wanted to put your brother on the phone, too—you were simply confused.
“He—why’d he say that?” you asked, presently more unnerved by the name-calling than your mother’s unexpected choices.
“For forgetting to call your mum, he said. And for working too much,” Jungkook replied. “Which is precisely what I warned you about in Amsterdam, so I honestly can’t believe this happened to you again. We asked you to take it easy, so at least listen to us now, and—”
It was hard to breathe in this still room, with the force of everyone’s concern weighing you down.
Slowly, you kicked one leg out from under the duvet. “I did take it easy.”
“Right,” he said, closing his eyes and mumbling, “you never fucking take it easy.”
You heaved yourself up to your feet, holding onto the IV stand for support. “I was—”
Jungkook looked up and jumped to his feet as soon as he realised what you were doing. “Where are you going? Sit down.”
“I’m fine. I’m just—”
He blocked your way, quickly ensuring that you did not have enough space to take another step.
“See, I told you you’d do this,” he groaned, his chest pressed against yours. “Just sit down.”
You tried not to stagger backwards—which was his intention, of course—and still stood your ground. “I just want to open the window, I’m—”
“Sit down.”
Huffing in angry resignation, you sat back down.
“Okay,” he said, stepping back from the bed to give you more space. “Now lie down.”
You rolled your eyes but settled back into a horizontal position, glaring at him all the while.
“Should I roll over, too?” you bit. “Give you a paw?”
“Not unless you want to.”
You bared your teeth. “Funny.”
“Just lie down, please,” he reiterated. “And just—just rest, okay? For a little while, at least. I’ll open the window.” He saw you open your mouth and added hurriedly, “I know you can do it yourself. But let me.”
Sighing, you surrendered to the warm confines of the duvet. “Okay. Thanks.”
He crossed the room and struggled with the curtains for a moment. He could tell you were watching him, and he felt irrationally nervous—he thought that if he did something wrong, you would try to get up again. Finally, he grabbed the handle of the window, twisted it and pulled. A moment or two later, a welcome breeze finally filled the stuffy room.
Relieved to be able to breathe something other than your discomfort, you watched Jungkook return to his armchair.
“You didn’t tell me if you’re okay,” you reminded him. “How’s your eye?”
He looked confused as he lifted his hand—as if to verify if the eye in question was still there—then paused and dropped it again.
“It’s working,” he said, sitting back down next to your bed.
“And the pain?”
He shrugged. “Bearable.”
“Good,” you said, slipping your hands under the covers and resting them on your stomach. “I’m glad you took out your eyebrow piercing before the whole thing with Sid, by the way. Otherwise, we might have had even more problems.”
Jungkook didn’t want that to be your shared problem—he was determined to carry out his plan, which he boldly referred to as “Getting My Shit Together”—but at the same time, he was glad that he didn’t cause you any additional distress. Honestly, he couldn’t have cared less about his piercings right now.
“I—yeah.” He rubbed his eyebrow absentmindedly. “I hadn’t planned it like that, but it worked out, I guess.”
“Did you get any rest?” you asked then.
The question felt misplaced, and his stomach sank at the sheer wrongness of it. You were always worried about others. And he always gave you reasons to worry.
Really, while he was happy—alright, ecstatic—that you thought of him, he should have been the one asking you this.
“How, uh—how do you mean?” he returned.
“After the flight,” you said.
He looked down at the beige carpet under his boots and shook his head. He couldn’t have slept even if he wanted to—not until he was sure you weren’t on your feet, insisting you were okay.
“I don’t need rest,” he said.
But as you looked at him, it was clear that rest was exactly what he needed. Beneath the imposing bandages, his eyes were bloodshot, and his skin was pale and waxy. He was still beautiful—Maggie would have made a joke about it—but in a way that made your heart ache if you looked at him too long.
“You should go,” you said. “Get some sleep.”
Jungkook gave you a look as if you had just confessed that you enjoyed beheading people in your spare time: incredulous and slightly offended.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
This was going to turn into a childish game, you knew it. But you tapped your thumbs together and still tried.
“What if I want to be alone?” you asked.
“Then I’ll call Luna and Maggie.”
Your arched eyebrows challenged his solution.
“When I said alone,” you clarified, “I didn’t mean not with you.”
For just a split second, he looked almost relieved to hear this. Then he bit his lip and brought a hand over his knee.
“If my presence is not the problem,” he said, “then I’m staying.”
“The problem,” you argued, “is that you’re going to end up in this bed, connected to an IV, if you don’t sleep.”
“Let’s cut to the chase,” he offered. “I’m not leaving you alone. In fact, I’m staying. Unless you explicitly tell me you can’t stand to look at me anymore.”
He gave you an opening to tease, and you enjoyed building up to it as you looked down and ran your tongue over your lips.
“And, uh, you’d leave then?” you asked—taunted, really.
“Begrudgingly,” he replied, as discontented as you were amused.
You nodded. “Alright.”
He raised his eyebrows, slightly dispirited. “You’re going to tell me to go?”
“No,” you said. “Stay.”
So he stayed.
And this moment in the hotel room, as the vitamin drip dribbled quietly into the intravenous tube, did not just feel bizarre. It felt a little like a parallel universe—like you’d lost consciousness in a world where you were very angry and very stressed, and had woken up in a world where only subtle echoes of all the fervent emotions you’d once felt existed.
In this world, all that you were feeling was eclipsed by what really mattered: the people who were in this room with you and had been waiting outside of it.
But you felt another particularly prominent sentiment, which was heightened even more by Jungkook’s relentless focus on you. You did not want to name it, however. To identify it was to give it power over you, and you liked to believe that you had your heartbeat under control right now.
“It’s like—this is just like back then again,” Jungkook said suddenly. “Isn’t it?”
You exhaled, returning to the jagged, uncertain moment.
“Yeah...” you said, stretching the vowels in a frantic attempt to fill the space that would soon turn into an awkward silence. “Thank you for not taking me to a hospital this time. This really isn’t so bad.”
“It is bad,” he disagreed right away. “But I didn’t want you to have another reason to feel stressed. I thought a hotel room would relax you more than a hospital room.”
“It would,” you said. “Thanks.”
He hung his head. “Yeah.”
Not the awkward silence, not the awkward silence, not the—
“Well,” you inhaled, “at least you won’t have to study for any finals this time, right?”
You expected him to smile back at the gentle jab about him failing his exam the last time you were in the hospital. But when Jungkook looked up, he looked crestfallen somehow—almost like he was disappointed that he did not have to study for finals this time.
“Yeah, um, actually—I-I didn’t fail my exam because I didn’t study for it,” he said in a slow, contemplative tone. He wasn’t sure if he could ever admit this to you, but he figured he didn’t have much left to lose. He’d already told you so much. He might as well tell you all the rest. “I failed because your friend texted me about twenty minutes before my final, saying that you left your exam looking very disoriented. She asked if I could check on you.”
Horror descended on your face as you realised what he meant.
“You went to look for me,” you surmised painfully, “and didn’t show up to take your final.”
He nodded and you shook your head with a newfound ferocity.
“Jungkook,” you said, remembering how you reacted when he first told you he had failed—how you immediately blamed his recklessness and his friends. How you brought up all of his mistakes and thought this was another one of them.
“You passed out,” he said. “I don’t regret it.”
“I yelled at you so much!” you continued, lost in your own guilt. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
“You helped me study, too,” he defended, feeling almost uncomfortable. He’d never felt your reaction was inappropriate, even under the circumstances. He had failed the exam, after all—like he’d failed several others before.
You shook your head again. “Yeah, but—”
“It’s fine,” he cut you off.
“It’s not fine!” you refuted immediately. “It was my fault you failed.”
“It wasn’t your—”
“I thought it was your friends again,” you said. “I thought they distracted you, and you didn’t study.”
There it was—this vast precipice between what you thought had happened and what had actually happened. Now that years have passed, Jungkook didn’t even know where to start.
The fact was this: you believed that every time he failed you, it was his friends’ fault—and that belief comforted him. It was so appropriate, so fitting.
And sometimes it was true, but even when it wasn’t—when it was just him, not being good enough—your assumption that it was Sid’s fault didn’t paint Jungkook as desperate; merely reckless. Not hopeless, only a little dumb. He preferred it this way.
But now he took a deep breath.
“My friends did distract me from a lot of things,” he said. “But the truth is, sometimes… I tried too hard, and I didn’t want you to know about it. I couldn’t stand the thought of trying to do something for you and then—just completely fucking everything up and letting you down. Sometimes blaming my friends was a convenient excuse.”
You frowned. “What—what are you talking about?”
“Well,” he wiped his palms on his black cargo pants and stretched out his legs, “remember when we were planning to go on holiday together and I fucked up?”
Your frown deepened.
“Hawaii?” you asked. “When you bought the tickets home for the same day we were flying there?”
“Uh…” He hadn’t realised he’d messed up several times. “No. Different holiday. When I missed the train we were supposed to take to the beach? For our summer break?”
“Oh.” You nodded. “I remember. But I saw Sid’s Instagram videos with you, drinking at his garage. I know you were—”
“Those were old videos. And he posted them at a very bad time, which, honestly,” he chuckled sadly, “it’s nothing new for Sid. He seized every opportunity to make me miserable, and I was—I relied on that sometimes. I think he wanted to start an argument between us on the train, that’s why he posted those videos. The truth is, though, I didn’t even see him that day. I missed the train because I wanted to rent out a car and surprise you.”
The quiet confusion on your face prompted him to keep going.
“I didn’t want just any car,” he explained. “I wanted the same Cadillac convertible I’d rented out for our first anniversary.”
You had fond memories of the convertible. Not of the actual drive, which was, honestly, quite painful—there were bugs and unruly strands of your hair everywhere—but of the laughter you’d shared inside.
“It was summer, finally warm enough outside,” Jungkook recalled. “I thought it would be a nice way to relax after studying. I even, uh—I made decorations and everything. Glittery, silver letters that said, ‘just passed our finals’. It’s a play on ‘just married’, you know? It’s a—a joke.”
Eager to understand where this was going, you remained frozen on the bed, and Jungkook felt himself waver slightly. He was glad you weren’t laughing—he dreaded you’d laugh or find any of this as embarrassing as he did—but he slid his hands under his thighs anyway, as if to warm them.
“The thing is, though,” he continued. “I didn’t take my passport with me. Because you don’t need a passport when you’re taking the fucking train, but you can’t rent a car without one, and those fucking assholes at the rental shop—anyway. I went back to my dorm to pick it up, and by the time I got back, the rental shop had closed for lunch. And I missed the train.”
Your heartbeat was steady—fast, absolutely speeding, but steady nonetheless. It hadn’t slowed since he started speaking.
Your expression, however, was almost painfully concentrated. When he looked at you, it seemed as if you were listening to a séance where a spirit was recounting their death.
You cleared your throat and tried to speak. “I thought—”
“You thought I forgot about our trip and went out with Sid,” Jungkook finished for you.
You didn’t have to confirm it, he knew. The hope that this was what you would assume was his safety blanket—this way, he didn’t have to face the fact that he could never do anything right for you, not even when he tried so hard to.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.
You weren’t angry at him for this because he’d made it to the beach later that night, after all. He had taken the last train and barged into your cabin just after midnight. You had nearly knocked him out with a bedside lamp, assuming it was an intruder.
But you didn’t understand the point of allowing you to believe—for years—that it was Sid’s fault. Why didn’t he defend himself?
“Because—did you not hear me describe the letters I’d cut out from glittery paper?” Jungkook asked, his voice high-pitched in irritation at himself. “It’s embarrassing. I should have just met you at the train station like I said I would.”
“Well, why didn’t you?” you questioned. “Why put all this effort?”
“Because I love you,” he replied. You tugged on the IV tube again as you squirmed and unconsciously flexed your arm. “And because I saw your friends get picked up by their boyfriends in their cars. I saw those boyfriends bring them massive bouquets of roses. I saw all the grand fucking gestures that I could never do for you, because I didn’t have enough—I wasn’t—it was mortifying. I thought that you deserved the world, and all I could give you was… some fucking wildflowers before our dates.”
The corners of your lips twitched as you tried to speak, “it’s—I loved your wildflowers, though. And I never cared about anything else.”
“I know,” he said. “But I did.”
You looked down at the white duvet. “You and your gestures.”
Jungkook hummed, but did not add anything else. He was thinking—and regretting his silences. You were thinking, too—and wondering if this was the only time he allowed you to assume that his friends were at fault when they weren’t.
The room around you stilled, adapting to the atmosphere of the conversation. Even your drip quieted.
But then someone knocked on the door of the hotel room, and you and Jungkook almost lit up with relief.
“It’s us!” Luna’s voice called out just as Jungkook stood up to check who it was.
Your friends had returned with paper boxes of Thai food—enough to feed at least five people, from what you could see from your bed—and waved at you from the doorway.
A conversation followed—one that you couldn’t quite hear, except for irrelevant snippets, such as “are you sure?” and “well, okay”—and then Jungkook stepped away from the door, allowing the two girls to address you.
“Apparently, we’ll be heading back to the bus for a quick nap,” Luna said. Jungkook gave her a disapproving look that she promptly ignored. “Is that okay with you? Jungkook will stay.”
Your reflexive response was, of course, to try to dismiss their responsibility. “He doesn’t—neither of you have to stay—”
“Someone is staying,” Jungkook stated, his voice strict, final. “And I would like to be the one to do that.”
You weren’t protesting against him specifically, but as you prepared to reply, you realised it might seem that way. Your hesitant silence was a chance for Jungkook to nod at the two girls again. They nodded back, but then glanced back at you.
“Our phones are on,” Maggie said, lifting her device up for you to see. “So, you can still call or text us at any point, and we’ll rush over here right away.”
Jungkook raised his eyebrows. “That certainly does not make it sound like I’m about to torture her.”
You bit back a smile on your bed while Luna said simply, “just a precaution.”
“I get it,” he said. “And I’ll personally call you if I say or do anything that’s over the line.”
Neither Luna, nor Maggie had a response to that, and you looked up to meet three pairs of expectant eyes.
“I—it’s okay,” you said to the girls. “You—yes, get some rest. We’ll be fine here. Thank you.”
“Okay. We’ll be back!” Luna promised, shooting a warning look at Jungkook, while Maggie waved her phone and called out at you, “text us!”
You wanted to give them a small wave, but the thick duvet and the persistent catheter digging into your arm made it difficult to pull your hands out, so all you managed to do was just shuffle around under the covers and nod at them.
The girls left the take-out boxes inside, waved at you again, and walked away.
Jungkook closed the door and slowly returned to his seat, his shoulders hunched, hands in his pockets, and steps unsteady. He looked lost and frightened.
He didn’t want you to misunderstand his intentions. He didn’t want to stay here just to have you to himself, to apologise and to beg for your forgiveness. He wanted to stay because he couldn’t breathe when he didn’t know if you were okay.
As his hesitation hung in the air, memories of your previous hospital stay returned to you again, and you closed your eyes to shake them off.
“You should eat something,” you said.
Jungkook refused.
“When was the last time you ate anything?” you prodded.
Again, he mumbled and hummed under his breath, evading the question and sitting very still—as if he was expecting something. As if something was coming.
And you realised that something was coming. But you had to speak to bring that something here.
“So, then—w-was there anything else?” you finally asked.
Jungkook knew you were referring to the moment he’d just revealed, this deliberate misunderstanding. It was all he could think about. This was the something.
“There was,” he said with a sigh. “But I don’t—”
“Tell me about it.”
He had a lump in his throat that he couldn’t swallow—but not due to his lack of trying—and he suddenly felt like he was standing in front of a jury of his peers.
He didn’t want you to keep thinking that he hadn’t made an effort for you when he had, only it never turned out well. But he was also nervous about you learning how hard—and how impossibly much—he tried. He thought it would only highlight his shortcomings—and there were many of them.
He’d convinced himself that if you didn’t know about them, then he wasn’t letting you down. It was challenging to break out of this conviction now.
“Well—t-that Valentine’s Day,” he stammered. “Our second one—do you remember?”
You remembered right away. Despite your distaste for the commercialisation of the holiday, it still stung that Jungkook had avoided you the whole day. And for several days after that, too—although you’d assumed that to be deliberate. He’d missed Valentine’s Day and didn’t want to see you out of guilt.
“Sure,” you said.
“Well, that wasn’t Sid’s fault, either,” he said. “I know you thought we went on a drinking binge that weekend because Sid happened to conveniently go off the grid right at that time. He had a habit of—”
“But you weren’t with him?” you interjected, impatient.
“No. He was—it was nearly a Weekend at Bernie’s situation. There was some event happening at Jude’s summer house that weekend,” Jungkook said, and you tried to control yourself before you made mocking comments about the idea that people had enough money to own seasonal houses. “And Jude got so high that Sid and some of Jude’s cousins had to pretend he was just not feeling his best whenever his parents asked about him. They mimicked his voice through the door and everything.”
“So, where were you then?”
“I was—well, I—I spent that whole day—ah, no,” he stopped abruptly and brought his palms over his face, lacing his fingers over his mouth as he changed his mind. He couldn’t do this. It was awful. He was such a mess. “You know what? Maybe it’s better if you keep thinking I was at that summer house with them.”
“No,” you opposed in frustration, lunging forward to sit up. You did not listen to him drone on about Sid and Jude just to have him change his mind. “Now you have to tell me.”
Jungkook raised his head when you moved—his concern for you overwhelmed his chagrin.
“Okay, okay, don’t—lie down,” he asked, gesturing at the pillow.
You complied to get him to keep going. He took a breath.
“Just so you know,” he cautioned, “this might finally ruin my bad boy reputation.”
“You never had one.”
He clicked his tongue against his lower teeth. “Okay, ouch.”
You grinned. “Tell me. What really happened?”
He hesitated for another second, bouncing his knee up and down, up and down, and then stilling completely.
“Well, for one thing,” he began finally, “I was going to make dinner. That didn’t go well, because the communal kitchens were—well, you know. But that’s fine, I didn’t worry too much because there’s always take-out.”
You nodded. The communal kitchens in both of your dormitories were typically crowded with people or they smelled so terrible from a failed cooking experiment that it was simply wiser not to set foot in there.
“There was a great pizza place literally two blocks from your dorm,” you pointed out.
“Yeah, exactly.” He nodded in agreement. “But, um, we’d already gone out for a fancy dinner on Valentine’s Day the year before, so I wanted this year to be more… special. I don’t know. Or different, at least. So, I thought I’d cook and make you a slideshow. And—okay, you’ll have to stop smiling if you want me to continue.”
You hadn’t realised you were smiling. You pursed your lips and pulled them to each side to compose yourself.
“Sorry,” you said. “Continue.”
“Right,” he said. “So I made a PowerPoint. Added all of our pictures that I could find in my camera roll, wrote some funny captions. There were going to be at least 200 slides, I’m pretty sure you would have fallen asleep in the middle. I even recorded an acoustic Sleep Token cover to use as background music.”
You told yourself you’d stay quiet, but your disbelief was uncontrollable. “You didn’t!”
“I did,” he said, smiling, but trying not to, for the sake of the story. “It’s gone, though. I erased all traces of that night.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Well, I, uh—I didn’t want just to play you the slides on my laptop,” he said, scratching nervously at his chest over his dark grey hoodie. “I wanted something more.”
You nodded. “Of course.”
He looked away instead of acknowledging your comment.
“Then I remembered something I saw on Instagram that could have been cool. It was one of those aesthetic accounts. They had a picture of this dark, cosy room with a projector screening a film right on this white wall,” he said. “So, I thought, well, shit! I have a white wall behind my wardrobe. And the science lab downstairs has a projector.”
You didn’t like this as you stiffened on the bed, mumbling a dreading, “dear God.”
“Yeah.” He paused to lick his lips. “But it’s probably not what you think. I got the fucking projector.”
He said that with so much grandeur that you couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows—questioning if this was really something to be proud of.
He recapped the story anyway, “I took my roommate’s wrench, and it really didn’t take more than fifteen minutes to open the lab door, unscrew the projector, and bring it back up to my room.”
You shut your eyes and scrunched your nose at the step-by-step description. You wondered if there was a statute of limitations here, and if you would have been considered an accomplice now that you knew about this.
“They have security cameras, though,” you said, glancing at him again. “Don’t they?”
“They do,” Jungkook confirmed. He had a sardonic smile on his face. “Why do you think I was suspended for a month after Valentine’s Day?”
You lost him there. “Wait—they knew you stole the projector?”
“Borrowed,” he corrected. “I returned it two days later. But, yeah, uh—Minjun actually pulled some strings here. His dad went to university with the dean, so he vouched for me. Told him it was all a misunderstanding, and that it would never happen again.”
You looked away, frantically sifting through memories of the month after that particular Valentine’s Day. You remembered not seeing Jungkook for a few days after it, but you saw him fairly regularly later on. He would hang out in your dorm while you had classes, claiming not to have anything better to do.
It took you a full minute to properly recall the explanation he’d given about his suspension.
“Oh,” you said. “Minjun told me that you got suspended because you were caught completely wasted, spray-painting one of the campus buildings.”
Jungkook nodded, his eyes cast low.
“To be fair, I did spray-paint that one,” he admitted. “And I was probably wasted when I did it. But I wasn’t caught.”
You weren’t sure if “spray-painting” was a lesser offence than “stealing a projector from a laboratory” in your eyes, but you didn’t want to question Minjun’s decision now.
“Okay,” you said. “So what happened after you stole the projector?”
“Well, I took the borrowed projector up to my room and set it up,” he replied. “Everything looked great. I was going to give you the best Valentine’s Day dinner this world has ever fucking seen.”
He smacked his palms against his thighs as he spoke, showing off his determination, and you found yourself resisting a smile again. Jungkook had a certain way of telling stories—his changing smiles and small chuckles, his hand gestures and even his tone of voice always made it feel more vivid.
“But, um, I had to move the wardrobe to get a bare wall,” he continued. “And, uh, what I did not foresee was that, earlier that very same day, my roommate’s electric kettle had broken. He went out, purchased a new one. And he put the old one on top of the wardrobe to save space.” Jungkook gave you a moment to think back on this roommate. “You remember the guy, he hoarded everything, all kinds of fucking cables and wires, and—anyway. So, I started to push the wardrobe, and the fucking kettle—it fell and hit me right on the top of my head.”
A surprised gasp left your lips—a stark contrast to the easy, laid-back way he had just spoken.
Jungkook nodded in response to your reaction. “Yeah. My vision sort of darkened and I thought I heard something crack—I, uh, I did think it was my skull, not going to lie.”
He chuckled again—to minimise the impact of his words once more—but you sat up despite his inevitable protests.
“Jungkook!” you scolded. “And you didn’t tell me?!”
“Well, my skull obviously didn’t really crack.”
“I’m not so sure that it didn’t.”
“Anyway,” he stressed. “There wasn’t any blood or anything, so after a few minutes of sitting on the floor, I figured I was good to go. Then I stood up, and, uh—I don’t think you need a visual of what happened then.”
You closed your eyes.
Really, no. You did not need a visual.
About a year ago, at one of the smaller Rated Riot concerts—at a club that seemed harmless at first glance—Jungkook had climbed over to a wooden ceiling beam and swung his arms over it to brachiate across the narrow joist. The beam turned out to be heavily lacquered, and his sweaty palms slid right off, forcing him to crash onto the table below.
He gave himself a concussion, sprained his shoulder, broke $200 worth of bottles and glasses, and frightened the living hell out of the middle-aged couple who were sitting at the table that he’d landed on.
“Yeah,” you said in your quiet hotel room. “I can imagine.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook breathed out. He recalled this exact same moment—and he knew that, once again, the cause of his injury was his own overexertion. “So, I spent the whole night in my dorm room, on the floor—because I couldn’t crawl to my bed—hoping that I wouldn’t die.”
“And it didn’t occur to you to call me?” you asked—not gently. “Or the fucking ambulance, actually?”
“No,” he replied, unfazed by your disapproving tone. “Not if it meant having to explain what I was doing before all of that happened.”
“You’re crazy,” you said, shaking your head. “You clearly got a concussion, and you didn’t do anything about it.”
“To be fair,” he said, “it’s not that I was embarrassed about it or anything. I was just—horrified that I’d let you down. It was Valentine’s Day. I wanted to give you a slideshow and a romantic fucking dinner. Not—not lie on the floor of my room, half passed out.”
You fought against a pensive sadness. It seemed unfair that this night had not gone the way he’d planned.
“W-well, what did your roommate say when he returned?” you asked instead.
Jungkook poked his cheek with his tongue. “He wasn’t very happy that I broke his old kettle.”
“You broke his—Jesus Christ.” Your hands were on your face as you fell back and buried your head into the pillows. “So, he just left you there on the floor?”
“I assume he thought I was drunk.”
“Fucking—what a—and he was valedictorian, wasn’t he? What a fucking moron,” you groaned. “I knew I should have kicked his ass while I had the chance. I never liked him.”
Jungkook felt a warm rush of comfort to hear how agitated you were getting on his behalf.
“Yeah, he didn’t like me very much, either,” he said. “But that’s um—that’s the story. I missed Valentine’s Day, almost died, and got suspended. I couldn’t possibly tell you what happened.”
“No, how could you?” you deadpanned. “Your reputation was at stake.”
He smiled. “Precisely.”
Even though you joked about this, and he was grateful that you did, both of you knew that this was not entirely about upholding some specific “bad boy” image.
You’d already witnessed this side of him – the side that felt anxious and dreaded the thought of not being good enough. Of not meeting expectations. Of letting others down.
In fact, now that you thought about it, your first proper conversation during this tour had been about this very issue.
“The time I was arrested,” Jungkook said, his shaky voice interrupting your thoughts, “that was—it might have been another one of those times.”
“What?” you asked, perplexed again. “How—I was at the police station with you—the officers—”
“I don’t remember a lot of details,” he interrupted. “So, I’m—I’m not really sure. But, uh, apparently, that night we didn’t just spray-paint a building. Or spit at the officers, allegedly, while we ran from them. The police assumed Minjun and I were the “drunk and disorderly” call that they received an hour before they found us.”
Your memories of that night were hazy, too—mostly because you refused to go over the details in your mind. All you could remember was Jungkook calling you from the precinct and asking—in the most resigned voice you’ve ever heard—if you could come pick him up. The story that you were given when you arrived at the police station only came back to your memory in fragments: property damage. Assault of police officers. Resisting arrest.
“You weren’t?” you asked.
“No,” Jungkook said. “We had some drinks at a bar outside of town, and Sid started harassing some bikers across the street. Someone called the police. Jude said he even punched someone there, I don’t know. Minjun and I were already back in the city at that time. I asked him to come with me to keep watch. I wanted to spray-paint these song lyrics for you—”
Your head jerked as your surprise prevented you from shaking it properly. “Wait—you—what? What lyrics?”
“It’s—well, you know what lyrics,” he replied, timid suddenly. “There was only one song we listened to all the time.”
You remembered.
It’s you and me ‘til the end of time.
You swallowed, breathless, and almost completely weightless as you clutched the duvet tighter in an attempt to ground yourself.
“The building I chose was downtown,” Jungkook continued. “Right across the street from the park where we had our first—well, our first date. I wanted that place to have something—something that we both loved. To commemorate all that we had, I don’t know. I haven’t been a very good boyfriend to you at the time, and I wanted to redeem that.”
The unexpected tightness in your stomach worried you for a second, but the sedative must not have fully worn off yet, because you took a deep breath and felt your body wind down a little. The room continued to blur behind Jungkook, but you suspected that your condition or medication had little to do with that.
“And, uh,” you tried to ask, “the police found you there?”
Jungkook nodded.
“I think Sid guided them to us,” he said. “It never made sense to me why the police would even go there. No one patrolled those streets, what was the point? Not to mention, it was dark, we were dressed in black, and—honestly, it wasn’t our first time with graffiti. But what happened was, I got a text from Sid, saying that someone at the bar had called the cops on him. And not five minutes later, he and Jude both showed up downtown, and we heard sirens.”
“So, what did you do?” you asked—uncertain, suddenly, if you’d actually asked him this before. You had talked to one police officer that night and had accepted everything he told you as the truth.
“Well, Minjun and I ran, of course,” Jungkook said.
“And the other two?”
“I can’t remember the exact sequence of—I was—I was drunk,” he said, giving you an apologetic look. He wanted to share the whole story with you, but he wasn’t sure if he knew it himself. “I remember Sid and Jude shouting at us that they would hold the cops back while we ran—and I didn’t even—we didn’t even think that there was anything weird about that. Minjun and I just ran.”
You felt your memories frantically rearrange themselves after every word that he said. Your head had turned into a disorderly, confused mess.
“The, um—the spitting, then?” you asked.
“That had to be Sid and Jude,” Jungkook speculated. “But I guess I might have done that, too. I, uh—I want you to have the full story, so I won’t deny things that I can’t even remember. I’m thinking about it now, and I don’t know which moments were really Minjun and me, and which were actually Sid and Jude. We were all very drunk, and nobody at the police station believed a word we were saying anyway.”
You nodded, urging him to continue, and he did—grateful and a little scared that you were listening to him so intently.
“Minjun and I got a good head start,” he spoke. “I don’t know what Sid and Jude meant by saying they’d hold the police back, because three officers still chased after us. But they were always at least five metres behind—I could tell from the distant sound of their shoes. I remember feeling so disconnected from my feet as I ran, I could sense I was going to trip. I don’t—honestly, I’m not saying this to defend myself—but I don’t know how I would have managed to look at the cops over my shoulder, spit at them from five metres away, and keep running without breaking my neck or falling over.”
“Hmm—yeah. I don’t know, either,” you said, turning away from him. You understood that it was important for him to clear his conscience, especially if he had been held accountable for something he didn’t even do, but you had other questions. “I’m confused about something else, though. If you and Minjun were being chased while Sid and Jude stayed back, why weren’t they brought into the station?”
All Jungkook did was raise his head and give you a look.
“Right,” you realised. “Of course. Money.”
He looked back down and nodded.
Exhaling, you studied the ceiling tiles for a few seconds before admitting, “I’ve always had a feeling that Sid had set you up.”
“Yeah,” he replied with surprising calmness. “I think so, too.”
You ran your fingers over your hair and pulled a strand from the back of your head to toy with it as you tried to think.
In every conversation that you’ve had about Sid using Jungkook as a scapegoat, Jungkook had either insisted that you were misunderstanding, or he simply fell silent (to avoid arguments, you assumed, and not necessarily to indicate his agreement with you).
This felt very new and particularly unusual. He wasn’t feeding into your dislike for his friends. He was doing something else now, but you were hesitant to draw conclusions about what it might be.
He had claimed he was done with Sid right after their fight, but after enduring his insufferable friends for years, you weren’t ready to believe that you wouldn’t have to see Sid’s nauseating mug again.
“But, anyway,” Jungkook said after a quiet minute. “Minjun and I apologised. Minjun paid bail. We signed something—I don’t even know what that was. And I went home with you. That’s the, um—the whole story as I remember it.”
You simmered in your cluttered mind for a moment longer, attempting to form a thought that you could voice. But all you could manage was a question. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”
“Would it have made a difference?” he asked. “I was still caught. You had to come and pick me up.”
“At least I—it would have—okay. I don’t know,” you finished lamely. This was a ‘what if’ that you didn’t have the strength to consider.
He hadn’t lied to you, though, you realised—and you weren’t sure how that made you feel. He allowed you to make assumptions that his friends were to blame, and he went along with it. That wasn’t worse than outright lying to you, but it wasn’t much better, either—it still put an unnecessary strain on your relationship.
Logically then, knowing the whole truth about what was happening with him might have made a significant difference. He had good intentions—yet he did not use them to defend himself.
You felt a little sorry that he only told you now, when you couldn’t go back and see what would have happened if you’d known about this all along.
But you realised you did not feel angry. You couldn’t find a specific point in his revelations that you could point at and say, “this is the one. This will be the reason why I can’t stand to look at you anymore.”
You couldn’t say that his choice to be silent made sense, but you knew him. And you understood why he made that choice. The way you saw it, this was partially his friends’ fault anyway.
All on his own, Jungkook wouldn’t have felt this uncertain, this insecure to admit to you that he loved you and that he wanted to show that to you in unorthodox ways—a lot of which didn’t work out.
“So, you just…” you spoke up again. “You were okay with me assuming that you were out with friends every night? That you chose them over us repeatedly?”
Jungkook sighed. If there was anything he’d learned over the past few days, it was that communication was not his strong suit. But now he’d reached a point of no return. He had to talk.
“Honestly, I thought it was a better alternative,” he said. “I thought I was a miserable try-hard. And I realised after our conversation in Amsterdam that, well... this is part of the reason why I didn't—why I assumed that you broke up with me because you didn’t love me anymore. And not because I kept fucking up.”
Your breaths were shallow as you listened to him.
“I think that it turned against me, this unnecessary secrecy,” Jungkook continued. “I wanted to be the best for you, and when I couldn’t be, Sid became a great excuse. But in my head—for me, he didn’t seem to have that big of a presence in our relationship. But of course, after I blamed my own mistakes on Sid, too, they built up. And, in the end, I think what happened was that…”
He faltered and you finished his sentence for him, “I started to see that all the reasons why you fucked up were Sid. Sid. Sid. Sid.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I made you think that if I was given a choice, I’d choose my friends over you. Which I wouldn’t! But, um—I had a very poor way of showing that. Have, actually. Still do. I’m sorry.”
“Hmm.” You turned away. “Do you—you know what else I think this is?”
He looked at you. “What?”
“Sid’s influence,” you said. “You were so scared that he would think you’re hopeless or pathetic that you couldn’t even talk about the things that you did—the things that you wanted to do for me. You thought you were a ‘try-hard’ because your friends convinced you that you were.”
Jungkook felt stunned and a little nauseous.
He didn’t know if this was something he’d implied in his endless attempts to apologise for the bet, but you articulated everything he had struggled to convey.
He was trying to prove to Sid that he wasn’t pathetic—and he was doing it long before Sid suggested the bet. He was doing it every time he went out with his friends. He was doing it every time he allowed you to blame these friends after he missed your dates—just so he wouldn’t have to admit how much he tried to make these dates special, and how miserably he’d failed at that.
Eventually, he began to accept that he was truly pitiful for being so stubbornly in love with you. He hated their pity. He wanted to change it. Make it not so.
But the aftermath of the bet made him realise that all he really did, was prove that he was pathetic—he wanted to get you back in any desperate way possible.
He was okay with that now.
He was okay with being so in love with you that he couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t focus on anything else. Couldn’t stay where he was, repeating the same mistakes, going round and round, because he needed to grow. Needed to become someone who deserved you.
He was okay with it because being pitiful meant being in love with you, and he would never try to fight against that.
And you knew all these things about him. You knew everything.
He didn’t really understand how the world worked and he didn’t know if destiny played favourites. But he remembered writing a line in one of Rated Riot’s earlier songs—you weren't made for me, that much is true / but I was made for you—and he was once again confronted with the weight of this realisation.
He loved you. He’s always been yours so completely and wholeheartedly that you read him without looking at him.
He liked to think he knew you well—but that was extremely presumptuous of him. You were a universe within a universe. Really, it was you who knew him in ways he didn’t know himself.
“I—you’re right,” he said, running his tongue over his chapped lips. “I shouldn’t have given a fuck about what they thought, but I did. And I don’t—I, um—I don’t want this to seem like I am an angel for telling you about all that. No, I fucked up. Many times. We went binge-drinking, drag-racing, we skipped classes, failed tests, spray-painted buildings—”
“Stole projectors,” you interjected.
“—stole projectors,” he repeated reluctantly. “It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, while I only pretended to fuck up. No. I took you for granted many times, I know I did. And I’m—I’ll always be sorry about that. But I’m—I’ve kicked him out. Sid. I’m done. Truly done this time. And I don’t even care if Jude stays.”
The way his voice broke off at the last sentence sounded like he cared a little, but you recognised the determination in his eyes when you looked at him. He’d made a decision.
“And Minjun?” you asked.
Jungkook inhaled. “Minjun… said he’d stay.”
“Good,” you said.
“Good—yeah?” he asked, evidently surprised. “You think so?”
Minjun had constantly looked like a kicked puppy when you were in the room. Now that you understood why, you thought you liked him a little more for it.
“Yeah,” you said. “I think he’s the only one of your friends worth keeping.”
“I’m starting to see that, too,” he admitted. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
You looked down. With half of the vitamin drip gone now, you felt your body start to return to you—and, automatically, the surreal haze inside this hotel room began to clear. You were no longer floating somewhere on the ceiling and only pretending that you were perfectly fine.
You were coming back to yourself. And the return was rugged and painful.
 “You, um—you keep apologising to me like—like you’re obligated to respond to me,” you said. Jungkook didn’t know if you realised it, but your voice changed when you spoke to him as his manager and not as someone he’d known and loved for over seven years. “I’m your manager, but these things—you can—I shouldn’t tell you how to live your life. That’s not my—”
“I want it to be, though,” he cut you off with a sudden boldness that he hadn’t realised he still had in him. “I-I mean, I don’t want you to worry about me like that ever again, but I—I want you to think about me. Sometimes, you’re the only person who truly does.”
You shook your head—not to rid yourself of the responsibility, but to remind him, yet again, that he had people who wanted what was best for him.
And, honestly, he knew he did. He just wanted you.
“You have your grandma,” you said.
“Yeah, of course,” he said, nodding distractedly. “But, um, you know.”
“And you’re loved by thousands,” you continued. “They all want you to stay safe.”
He smiled—appreciative but oddly apologetic.
“I’m grateful for that,” he said. “It’s just that—I want you to be the one who wants that for me. I’ve only ever loved you, I’ve never—never been in a relationship with anyone who wasn’t you. And I don’t want to be, so the next thing that you say better not be about me finding someone else, because—”
“You have been in other relationships, though,” you said despite his warning. You didn't know if this was really true, but you ploughed ahead anyway—just to say something. “I don’t know how long or short, but Sid always bragged about your double dates whenever he called me to pick you up, so—”
“The double dates,” Jungkook said, “meant that Sid was on a date with two girls at the same time. And I was there for decoration.”
You scoffed. “I hardly imagine that to be possible, considering Sid looks like a sewer rat on a good day.”
Jungkook wanted to argue, but he was too amused by this image.
“And, um—what do I look like?” he asked.
You blinked, taken aback by the question, then quickly turned away to gaze out the window instead. “You look… you know what you look like.”
“No,” he said, fully grinning now. “Now that you mention it, I realise I actually have no idea what I look like.”
“There’s a mirror on the wall right behind you.”
“It’s like I’m blind, I don’t know what’s—”
“You’re ridiculous,” you groaned, your face warm. “You look nice. Move on.”
“Oh! That’s high praise coming from you.” He made an effort to bow. “Thank you.”
“Fuck off,” you retorted because you couldn’t smack him on the shoulder. Instead, you motioned with your hand, urging him to keep going. “Sid couldn’t get a date with a personality worse than his looks. Not if you were there.”
“I’m sure the expensive restaurant worked in his favour,” Jungkook remarked.
You threw your head back, realising the significance of money yet again. “Ah.”
“In any case, I don’t care,” he said. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his seat. “I never wanted to be with anyone who wasn’t you anyway. Which—as you’ll be happy to point out—sounds silly because when Sid was in a good mood, he was very dedicated to making sure neither of us left the club alone.”
You shrugged one of your shoulders, trying to come off as casual. “Well, since you brought it up.”
“Yeah, well.” He sighed, not running away from this, because, frankly, there was nowhere to run. “And you’re, uh—you’re my manager. You know what I’ve been doing after hours anyway.”
“Hmm.”
You didn’t have a better response, because there was something that Luna had said to you the other day that would not leave your mind alone.
He had the option to keep the bet a secret from you.
This evening had been filled with these options.
It would have been easy not to mention his miserable attempts at grand gestures or the people who were there after you. But he was bringing up everything—every little detail from your relationship and after it—and you sat expressionless on the bed, not knowing what to make of any of it.
“I meant what I said, though,” Jungkook said, leaning forward again. He felt restless; as if he could jump out of his skin if he tried hard enough. “You’re the only meaningful relationship I’ve had. It wasn’t fair for me to pretend to be interested in a second date with someone else, when I constantly caught myself thinking about if I’d ever see you again. Or when I’d see you again, after we started to work together.”
Your eyes were focused on the sheets of the bet, but he still didn’t dare to look at you.
“I didn’t want to believe that I could still be in love with you after all this time,” he said. “But—well, the evidence is against me.”
“W-why’d you go with Sid then?” you asked—quickly. Before he said something else that you didn’t know how to respond to. “Clubbing and on these dates?”
He clenched his jaw. “Well, you said it. I was trying to prove to him that I wasn’t pathetic. That I wasn’t in love with you anymore.”
“But why did you care so much about what he thought?” you pushed, and there was a hint of hurt in your voice. Jungkook felt his heart leap over several beats as it pounded against his ribs. “Why did his opinion matter to you more than mine?”
He exhaled so deeply that it was almost a miracle his lungs hadn’t collapsed. His insides were burning with regret. With an urge to turn back time. An urge to make things right.
“Because I was—I was a fucking idiot. For years before I met you, I thought Sid had everything I wanted,” he said—which was equally as simple as it was unfair, and, in retrospect, stupid. “The freedom, the audacity to do whatever the fuck he pleased. No consequences, ever.”
You remembered him saying the same thing to you on the bridge in Stockholm and felt yourself shiver as though the wind from that night had followed you all the way here.
“And the way he treated me when I was single was different, too,” Jungkook continued. “I was single, I was in a band, and it finally felt like he approved of me, like we were actually friends. Like we were equals. And I cared about that so fucking much. It felt like I finally had everything that he had, and I was just—blind.”
“But you didn’t,” you said. “You didn’t have what he has. I don’t think you ever will.”
Jungkook was surprised to realise that hearing this did not sting.
He agreed.
“Yeah,” he said. “I actually—I had so much more than Sid would ever have, because I had you. And that’s—that’s probably why he dragged me around with him. He was determined to make me truly lose you like he always made me lose everything. And I let him—I helped him make that come true. I can’t—I’m not much better than him. I want to believe I am, but I’m—I made the bet.”
You remembered thinking that Jungkook and Sid could never be equals, because Sid always needed Jungkook to have less. And now that you heard Jungkook come to a similar conclusion on his own, you thought you felt the room shift a little.
“Yeah,” you said, distracted. “T-that—the bet was fucked up.”
“I know. I’m—I’m sorry,” he said. “I just—I want you to know that I meant everything I had said. All of it. And I understand why you don’t want to believe me. I, uh—I know your family history. But I’ve got mine, too. My grandpa is almost eighty. He’s only ever loved one person his whole life. So did my dad. So will I. It’s just—regardless of what’s going to happen, you’re—I’ll always love you.”
You cleared your throat once, then once more—louder.
Jungkook was about ready to get up, alarmed suddenly, but you quieted and looked around. He caught a glimpse of your eyes as you scanned the room and he realised—in a paradoxical sense of relief—that you were frightened.
Not angry. Not refusing to believe him. Not disappointed or frustrated.
Just scared.
“It’s uh—it’s really late,” you said, looking back at the window. “Isn’t it? The sky’s completely dark.”
He swallowed. You didn’t want to talk about this. And you shouldn’t. You needed rest.
“Yeah, uh… do you want me to close the curtains?” he asked, swallowing all that was still left unsaid.
It was impossible anyway, he supposed, to pour seven years of misguided decisions into one conversation. He was just relieved you hadn’t asked him to leave.
“No,” you said. “Keep them open. I want to see the sky.”
He’d hoped you would say that, and he felt an almost forgotten lightness in his chest when you did. Lots of things had changed over the past few days, but a lot of things hadn’t—including your love for the night.
“A lot of stars tonight,” he said meaningfully. He was glad he had accidentally picked a hotel room with a view of boring back alleys: there were no lights to cover up the stars now.
“Yeah,” you agreed, much calmer. “They’re beautiful.”
There was a quote in a book his grandmother had once read to him: “are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?”
He remembered feeling oddly wistful when he heard it. He imagined the night sky behind his closed eyes and he felt as though he was lacking something crucial—something that would come, but not yet.
He remembered watching the way you watched the stars back in Tilburg—hours before it all fell apart.
The night sky had always reminded him of you—really, even before he met you.
“I could open the window wider,” he suggested.
You closed your eyes.
“Could you?” you asked quietly.
“Yeah.” He stood up and approached the window, pulling the frame until he saw the ends of the curtains lift off the floor. “A distinct smell, isn’t it? The night.”
“It is,” you agreed.
It probably shouldn’t have been possible at this point, but as he turned around and traced your features with his gaze, he thought he fell in love with you a little more at this moment.
“We, um, we have this song,” he found himself saying as he returned to the armchair next to your bed. This song had been buzzing in his head nearly the whole night tonight. You could feel his nervousness as he mumbled, “ah, you probably know it already, it’s so obvious. And I told you in Oslo—okay, anyway. We have this song. It’s a B-side on our second single.”
“Cursed,” you said, recalling the title easily enough because this was your mum’s favourite song.
You always thought that the single—“Haunting,” which was their second title track and the very first Rated Riot song that you’d heard—overshadowed “Cursed.” Perhaps unfairly.
“Yeah.” Jungkook nodded. “Who, um—who do you think inspired it?”
Swallowing, you willed your thoughts to clear, so you wouldn’t have to think about the lyrics, but could not do it.
You remembered the entire chorus with perfect clarity, as though you were listening to Rated Riot perform the song in concert right now—Taehyung heavy on the bass and Jungkook yelling out the lyrics with his whole body leaning over the edge of the stage towards the audience.
You’re for the stars and for the moon to see /
You weren’t made for me /
You’re for the night and for the day to breathe /
You’re everything they want to be /
You're the enchantment that makes planets turn /
You’re more than the entire world /
You weren’t made for me, that much is true /
But I was made for you.
“I have no idea,” you said finally. You hoped, against all odds, this was a song that Yoongi wrote when he was drunk—those tended to be very emotional. “Was this the, um, absinthe one?”
Jungkook snickered humourlessly and shook his head.
“Don’t do this to me,” he asked, looking down for a moment—just until he could count the four loose threads in the carpet. Then he returned his gaze to you.
“It was you,” he said. “Your love for the night sky. I know it’s your favourite thing in the world.”
He said that and suddenly your chest was filled with them—with these stars that you loved to watch and he loved to sing about.
“W-well, that’s—you’re, um,” you struggled, “you’re not wrong about that, I guess.”
“It’s a song about my favourite thing in the world, too,” he added.
“W-what’s that?”
He had a sad smile on his face. “You.”
Your stomach tightened again and you squeezed your eyes shut—a feeble attempt to get away from this situation and from all the thoughts that your head could no longer contain.
“Not tonight,” you whispered. “I can’t—I don’t want to talk about us or about—about anything else tonight.”
“Okay,” he agreed immediately. “We won’t talk about it.”
“Okay,” you echoed, even though his laid-back response did not relax you.
You sensed longing in his words, and anguish. He would have done anything you asked him to—and this power scared you. You didn’t want it. You just wanted—
Exhaling loudly to drown out your thoughts, you turned to a side and glanced at the bandages on his face.
“Tomorrow, we will have to—we’ll have to figure out what to do with your eye,” you said.
Jungkook had not fully returned to this planet yet. “My eye?”
“Yes,” you said, giving him a longer look—as if to check if you hadn’t dreamt him—and then closing your eyes again. “Your black eye.”
He reached up to touch the bandages, perpetually confused about his injuries. “Oh—what do you mean, what to do with it?”
“Well, it’d probably be weird to cut it out, so we’ll have to cover it up.”
“Hmm.” He smiled at the ease in your voice. If everything else was lost, he hoped that he would at least get to keep your banter. “Okay.”
“I’ll think of something,” you promised as the gentle night wind brushed a strand of hair away from your face and fluttered your tired eyelashes.
“Thank you,” Jungkook said in a hush—his courage had finally abandoned him. “I’m sorry that this is another thing that you have to—”
“No,” you cut him off. “It’s not that bad.”
You tried to turn your head towards him, but lying here with your eyes closed felt very pleasant. You thought you’d felt revitalised before, you thought your body had started to feel more like it belonged to you again, but that had been momentary. You couldn’t keep your eyes open long enough to properly look at him.
“Do you mind if I… keep my eyes closed for a minute?” you asked.
“Do you mind if I stay here?” he responded.
“You—”
“Actually, I don’t care,” he decided. “I’m staying.”
You forced yourself to look at him. “You don’t have to do that. I’m fine.”
“You always say you’re fine,” he reminded you. “Look at where we are now.”
“It was a one-time thing. Look at this.” Lethargically, you raised your arm with the catheter. “I’m being pumped full of vitamins. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” he said. “I want to believe that. Really, I do, but you have to stop. You can’t keep going like this. I-I mean—”
You shook your head against the pillow. “Jungkook, this is really nothing.”
“I have a hard time believing that when you’re connected to a—”
“It’s—”
“Look, just—” he took a breath and extended his hands, “—p-please—please don’t let this happen again. Please look after yourself. I can’t lose you.”
He knew he might have to keep working with you without ever calling you his again. He’d have to learn how to deal with that.
But he could never deal with being here without you.
“Okay,” you said, your eyelids heavy. “Okay, I’ll be careful.”
“I’m going to need a promise here,” he said, reaching out his hand.
You chuckled weakly and extended your hand to gently graze his palm with the tips of your fingers. “I promise.”
He leaned in closer to fully grasp your hand in his, and saw the gentle—likely unconscious—smile on your lips as you squeezed his fingers. His chest filled with a warmth so big and powerful that, reasonably, there had to be no space left for his heart there anymore.
And yet something kept beating. He felt his own pulse reverberate against your fingers as he clutched your hand in his.
You’d be alright.
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You hadn’t foreseen how calming the gentle dripping of the IV would be. You’d only meant to rest your eyes for a quick moment. You didn’t realise you had dozed off.
Only when your mind sobered up sometime in the early morning hours—you based the time solely on the colour of the sky outside—did you force your eyes open and concluded, with a painful jolt of your exhausted muscles, that you’d fallen asleep.
You looked around and for a moment, the dark, strange room filled your exhausted mind with terror. Then you noticed Jungkook sleeping in the chair next to you, and you felt yourself calm down.
Thank God he was here.
Blinking suddenly, you parted your lips as if preparing to argue with your own thoughts.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. He had a performance tomorrow. And a bandaged black eye that you still hadn’t figured out how to hide.
“I can tell you’re overthinking from all the way over here,” Jungkook said, his voice drowsy, eyes half-open. He must have heard the rustling of your covers and woken up. “Go to sleep.”
“What time is it?” you asked.
He was too tired to note the urgency in your voice as he mumbled, “sleeping time.”
“Jungkook, I’m serious,” you said. Finally, he caught your alarmed tone and his eyes shot open. “What time is it?”
He straightened in his seat and regarded you for a minute while he searched for his phone somewhere on the armchair. You didn’t appear to be in pain, but the emergency in your eyes threw him off.
“It’s three-twenty,” he said after a brief moment of blindness from the bright screen of his phone.
“Shit.” You looked around in the darkness, not sure when you had last seen your phone. You couldn’t remember Jungkook mentioning that he’d picked it up when he found you, and you hadn’t asked for it back. “I have to—”
“No,” he said, getting to his feet.
“No,” you argued back. “I need—”
He leaned over your bed and took hold of your hands right as you tried to throw off your duvet and sit up. You tried to evade him, but Jungkook proved he’d known you long enough to guess every move you were going to make—in complete darkness.
“No,” he said again, struggling with your relentless dedication to flail your limbs around until you stood up. “Lie down, please. I don’t know what you think you must do at three in the morning, but I promise you, it can wait. It’ll be done. I’ll do everything to make sure everything is okay.”
You stopped resisting his hold and allowed him to gently guide you back onto the mattress. He only let go of you when your head hit the pillows.
“You can’t be here. You need rest,” you insisted as he pulled the duvet over you, tucking it under your sides until you were firmly cocooned inside. You couldn’t tell if he did that for your comfort or to make sure you couldn’t escape this bed.
“So do you,” he countered.
“I'm fine—”
“No—for once, just... please stop saying that,” he asked, his eyes bright, but his voice completely spent. “You’re not fine. You’re getting a vitamin drip because you fainted. You need to sleep.”
You kept your eyes on his for another minute, trying to adjust to the thick darkness, so you could make out his silhouette as he towered over your bed. He was watching you and waiting.
“Okay,” you gave in. “I'll sleep.”
“I’ll be here,” he said, finally sitting back down.
You knew that wasn’t right. He needed to get proper rest. He shouldn’t have kept watch over you.
“Okay,” was all you said despite everything. “Thank you.”
He mumbled something unintelligible in response and you didn’t dare to ask him to repeat it. The room gave space to the night as your conversation wound down.
You could hear a faint screech of a lost bird outside the hotel window. Bugs were singing somewhere in the distance, too. And, as you drifted off, you thought you heard Jungkook whisper a weary “I love you.”
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chapter title credits: bad omens, “the grey”
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