SWEET NOTHING | JJK (M)

SWEET NOTHING | JJK (M)

PAIRING: Boxer Jungkook x Ballerina Reader

GENRE: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, BOXER AU, DANCE AU, SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST

WORDS: 10k

SYNOPSIS:

They say home is where the heart is, but what if Jungkooks home is you, and you're not here to soothe his pain?

WARNINGS: abusive parents, drugs, Jungkook is mad and sad and curses a lot, ANGST, yall they love each other, blood(?), strict parents, JUNGKOOKS GRANDMA SLAYYYYY, SPICY SHOWER TIME (jk needs release), jerking off, cum shot, its kinda sad tho-, cursing, they're complete opposites, cringe nicknames (lol you should know me by now), ANNOYING inner thoughs AGAIN, lots of inner monologue, reader is insecure (even more now) shes sad :(, emo boy Jk, inexperienced reader, Oc travels🙌, she feels anxious and alone, bad thoughts

An: tysm for helping me along the way and motivating me every day to finish this one! Big thanks to all my readers and @erica2283 for always taking some time to help me out! Hope you enjoy, have your tissues ready and something warm to drink in this cold weather or vise versa! Dont forget your snacks either🙌🥹

Since that night, there has been radio silence. Neither of you were in the proper mood or at the right time to send that initial text. You're not sure how to handle things right now. He'd only stared at you for a few seconds after his last words before leaving. His dark hair, now shorter, was concealed beneath his beanie–the one youd bought together on his birthday a few weeks prior. Youd chosen it. A bright blue colour to contrast his usual dark clothing. His jaw was tenser than normal, jawline sticking out even more.

Was he upset with you? Or perhaps at himself? You can still hear the roars of his engine as he drove away with his bike and your heart.

As your window remained open, the bitter winter wind made its appearance. What made him stop you? That's all you've been thinking about since.

It was such a sweet night, sweet kiss, sweet nothing

2 days. Two days of self-isolation disguised as illness so your mother would let you stay at home.

Two days of eating nothing but soup, as your mother urged, to get rid of your cold.

Youd gotten sick of it too quickly, after the third portion that day to be exact. So you didnt hesitate to order in tonight–thank god for your parents being somewhere else.

Although the prospect of some fresh food seemed delightful a few hours ago, you didn't even touch it when it arrived. You did give the driver a big tip, hoping hed have a better day than you.

The food was now sitting on your window counter, perhaps as depressed as you were. Am I not enough? Was the food not enough to be eaten? Great.

Now, you were even pitying your food.

Grabbing the fork, you swirl it a few times, no need to blow it in case it was hot because it wasn't.

Youre happy for about 5 seconds before you swallow and put your fork back down–you weren't hungry anymore.

He's been gone for two days. Isn't it a thing that some people experience heartbreak? Perhaps that's what you had-

Nope, not the time

This was not the moment to self-diagnose.

You didnt break up

That's not how things worked right?

Right?

So you shake your head and hum along to the gentle music in the background. It didn't help–who would have guessed that playing Right Where You Left Me while depressed was a bad idea? Everyone but you, most likely.

You sigh as you examine your chipped nails, which you haven't even redone since that day. Your motivation close to zero, your body shutting down as you simply wanted to lie in bed and stare out the window–fall asleep and wake up the next day, perhaps it was all a dream.

"Cross-legged in the dim light. They say what a sad sight". the lyrics sing.

I know

Your lips curl upwards for the first time, but for all the wrong reasons–self pity. Its anything but new.

You hum to yourself as you chip off the last of your green nailpolish, which both you and him laughed at when you showed him. The way his hand cradled your waist as he drew you in, his nose brushing against your hair as he chuckled. "What a stupid colour". It was a stupid colour.

-

Jungkook isn't sure when he arrives–all he knows is that he's standing on his grandparents' porch, his Harley parked somewhere up front. He usually double-checked, making sure it was actually parked and switched off, so that anyone attempting to steal his prized possession would have a more difficult time. But not this time.

He was still in your room 25 minutes ago, his hands all over your body. He tries everything he can to get the image out of his thoughts. Not because he didn't want to see you, but because he loved you for fucks sake. Handling emotions was sometimes the worst thing anyone could expect him to do. Love wasn't all horrible.

He knew it wasn't.

But there was always something bad before there was something good.

Always

He just didn't want the good you two had to come to an end. So, yes, he was afraid, panicked, and left

He felt like a complete dick. Coming to a halt he thinks for a moment. He was a dick.

Theres silence, maybe a few leaves rustling in the background as he cracks his knuckles and tilts his head, cursing

His hand reaches inside his back pocket, where only two items are hidden away; His keys and a pack of cigarettes.

He decides not to go for a smoke right now. Progress

He always knocks out of respect, but he didn't have time to wait for his grandmother to open the door right now, so he let himself in. He was confident they wouldn't mind.

They never did. Unlike his parents.

Whatever mood he was in now–confusion, sadness, anger–it was no time to think about the poeple that liked to call themselves his parents

Before entering the cosy place he loved to call his second home, one final gust of wind passed his face. Sending one last cold shiver down his spine, but he doesnt regret leaving his jacket at yours.

Hed rather freeze out here than picture you sick in bed. He knew how easily your body caught colds

The smell of food and the fragrant lavender candle that his grandmother has lit every night since he was a child causes a grin to come across his face. This time, only happy recollections from his childhood flooded his head.

Christmas, birthdays, holidays. Hed spend them all here

He wonders why he hasn't brought you here before, so he nods and makes a mental point to do it soon.

"Jungkookie?" His grandmother screams out from the kitchen, having grown accustomed to his unannounced visits. He was bracing himself for a reprimand to get asked where he had been for the past few weeks because he hadn't passed by. He smiles once more.

He didnt mind the scoldings.

"Yeah, it's me," he says as he removes his boots, cringing as he notices some dirt fall over the clean floor, yeah, his grabdma was going to scold him later for that.

"You come just in time for dinner," her soothing voice directs Jungkook to the marginally warmer kitchen, where he properly welcomes her with a kiss on the cheek.

Dinner looked delicious now that he was looking down at the pots

"I'm not hungry," he says, drawing a frown and a slap on the arm from her.

"You come to my house to eat," she simply states, "and you've gotten so skinny!" she exclaims now fully facing him, "look at you!"

The smile on his face fades to an annoyed expression "im toning down-"

"Tone down tone up-" she shakes hear head motioning her hand at him "tomato tomato". Mumbling something under her breath, Jungkook only manages to make out the words "not taking care of yourself". He smiles.

As he leans on the counter, he lets out a chuckle. "Wheres grandpa?" After a few seconds of silence, he asks over the old radio–the one he had to fix one too many times but his grandmother wouldn't let go of–still playing in the background.

"Old guys at the bar watching the football game," his grandma scoffs. Jungkook simply lauhs, understanding that the love his grandparents shared was more than just love–it was friendship, trust, and adoration. His thoughts immediately return to you. And he chews his lower lip. As his grandmother prepares the pots for brewing, she cleans her hands with a wet towel.

"so whats on your mind?" She hums, turning to face him and placing her loving palm on his cheek.

"Im not-"

"Don't make excuses," she says sternly again. "come on tell me whats wrong, ill prepare us some tea while dinner finishes cooking" turning away once more she starts heating up water, gathering the things together

Jungkook simply nods, knowing that arguing with his grandmother never worked. He was relieved it didn't.

And it's not like he came here for no cause. He was originally on his way home, but something happened along the route that brought him here.

He quickly grabs two tea cups from the cupboards to assist his grandmother in setting the table, sitting down when she tells him to as she brings the kettle of freshly brewed tea. It smells even better now, and even his sensitive nose can appreciate the scent of warmth and affection.

-

He has no idea how much time has passed since he began talking about everything, and he means everything. It was as if his tongue couldn't stop. From the day he met you until your first kiss, disagreement, and reconciliation.

Of course, his grandmother was not new to the idea of you–Jungkook was always good at showing her pictures of you when he visited, and he wouldn't keep his girlfriend a secret from one of the most important ladies in his life.

She'd insisted on him bringing you here so she could meet you and bond over girly things many times.

Jungkook smiles at the thought, but he didn't want to push things, and you were a busy person anyhow, so it would have been hard.

"And now I'm here," he says, having described all that happened from beginning to end, possibly omitting the part when he argued with Jimin, which wasn't relevant anyway.

His grabdma frowns and sits back on the sofa, the big lights in the living room switched off as she turned on the smaller ones. "Youre afraid of love?"

She only wants to be assured. Jungkook sighs, frowns, opens his mouth to speak, but quickly closes it again. In annoyance, he runs his hand through his hair and closes his eyes. "Maybe"

-

Jacket, bag, another pair of shoes in case you lose yours

Your eyes scan your room, words repeating in your head.

Jacket..., bag..., shoes...

Oh

Your phone.

You walk from your door to your bedroom and disconnect the device, tapping it once to see whether you have any new messages. Of course you didn't, all it shows is your lockscreen, a picture of Jungkooks and your hand forming a heart. It couldnt be something obvious, too scared your mom would ask questions.

A sigh escapes your lips as you slip the purple phone into your back pocket, eager to forget about jt for the few hours it will take to drive to Busan. Another sigh escapes your lips–you're on your way to a competition. It was unexpected, and you couldn't pretend to be sick for any longer than necessary, so as you gather your belongings, you make your way downstairs, your mother already there at the door, hushes you inside the car.

You didn't have much time to practise, especially since you hadn't been to the studio in two days due to being 'sick'. You felt horrible for lying, but it was better than telling your mother that a boy had broken your heart. She'd freak if she found out. If she knew what he did for a living, she'd flip.

Nothing irritates you more in life than being judged, and people who judge. Jungkook was a decent person. You don't care what your mother thinks of him, and sure, if she ever found out–which was unavoidable–you'd choose him. The only question was, would he also choose you?

Again, you bite your lip as you connect your headphones to your phone, putting them on and switching to noice cancelling. Whatever your mom was talking about on the phone with one of her friends, you didnt care. Yet your gaze drifted to her manicured hand every now and then. Maybe for reassurance? Maybe to see she was still here in the car with you. It was weird, but the thought of being left alone was horrifying, especially now that Jungkook had left and you didnt know if hed be coming back.

Thank goodness for your earphones–a perfect way to shut your eyes and let you slip into a dreamworld

Sleep wasnt what you needed, youd plenty over the past days. It was easier to sleep than to deal with your emotions now anyway.

So you stare out the window, watching as the building gets smaller, roads lesser and sky bluer as the morning arises. Your stomach grumbling was a good sign at least, the will to eat was close to nothing since he left. Youre glad your hunger is back and healthier than ever. What youd give for a fresh coffee and sandwhich from your favourite backery now.

Sighing your eyes drift back to the sky, trying your best to distract yourself from the long ride ahead of you. But even the clouds seemed to remind you of him. As one of them looked exactly like his silhouette.

You close your eyes. Fine. If this is what it took for some peace of mind so be it.

So you skip to the next song, leaning against the window, trying to replay Britney Spears Gimme More music video in your memory. And it worked for a while, until the song ended and you felt like crying when your and Jungkook's favourite song came on.

Should you send Jungkook a brief text message? Notifying him that you'll be gone until tomorrow night?

Pursing your lips, you sink into your seat, playing with the phonecase as you think

You decide against it after grabbing your phone and monitoring your chat. Why would you text him, if he didnt seem to care?

Your mother notices your frown and swiftly snaps you out of it as she turns around and continues the call with her friend. Taking one last peek at the chat–specifically, his profile photo, a picture of you two and bam–you switch off your phone for the rest of the travel as you let your music play.

-

Jungkook made the right decision by cancelling his classes with Coach Chan for tomorrow and spending the night at his grandmother's. It had been a while, and he felt awful for not spending enough time with them, while he still could.

Besides, the breakfast was always a 10 out of 10

But he preferred to be alone, unbothered and alone with his thoughts.

That wasn't an excuse not to come over more regularly, though. So while he lies in bed, closing his eyes–images of you cross his thoughts, your laugh, your smile, your eyes, your lips–everything.

With a grunt, he turns around, turning on the modest lights on his nightstand as he grabs his phone and clicks on your chat without thinking.

Y/n 🍓

When he sees your profile picture–you in your favourite yellow sundress laying on the grass–his lips curl up.

Nobody else knew hed taken the photo, and you collapsed into his arms and lips not long after.

He sighs at the memories, and his fingers begin to type before he can think clearly.

Miss you miss you miss you

When he jerks out of it, he comes to a halt, his eyes scanning the text. 'Are you awake?' Shaking his head, he deletes it, briefly terrified when he noticed you were online. He just hopes you didn't notice the 'typing' icon.

He wanted to know what you were up to, to apologise, to hug and kiss you. But you wouldn't want him to do that.

He thinks for a second then shakes his head

No, you probably didnt.

He physically left you when he climbed out of your balcony and back to his bike. "Idiot," he mumbles to himself as he reclines and rubs his tattooed palm across his face. "Fucking idiot," he says again.

This was the time for him to relax, go to the gym, and let his frustrations out. But he couldn't. He was too far away from home and his responsibilities.

The thought causes his gut to clench. What if anything bad happened to you while he was away? What if something bad happens and it's all his fault because he's scared? The word causes him to flinch. Scared.

He was never scared.

Was taught not to be.

He was strong and scary. But never scared. Perhaps this was the first time he had genuinely felt it

It wasn't for him. It was for you. He closes his eyes again, deciding not to get too caught up. Finally, he drifts off to sleep.

Jungkook's body wakes him up again at about 2 am, the sudden need to use the bathroom being too intense for him to fall back asleep.

So he stands up, moaning as he glances down, his morning boner inescapable as he proceeds to the guest toilet, briefly gazing at the shower before heading to the toilet.

He leans against his legs, closing his eyes, trying his hardest to stay awake. And when he stands in front of the mirror a few seconds later, his eyebags larger than usual, he thinks that a few minutes of sweet relief is worth a few minutes of less sleep.

Thank heavens that the guest bathroom is downstairs, for the shower, which was now on full blast, cold water hitting the tyres, wasn't waking up his poor grandparents, who were completely unaware of his shenanigans this late at night.

Jungkook could care less that the water was freezing cold as he stripped off his clothes and checked the temperature, shivers running down his spine as he let the water cover his torso, hair, and legs.

It isn't long before his gaze returns to his length, his fingers toying his manhood for a few moments before deciding that this isn't the time for teasing, especially when you aren't around to be the one doing it.

So he tugs at it, a hiss departing his lips before he finds his rhythm, hand on the cold shower wall as he attempts to find his release as quickly as possible, curses erupting one after the other.

He bites his lower lip, groans, pauses for a second, then doubles his speed till his cum is coating his lower belly and parts of the wall, which he cleans up afterwards.

He feels empty when he falls back into his bed, head resting on the pillow, wet hair making it slightly uncomfortable.

"Fuck"

-

You arrive at 12 pm, streching your limbs as you climb out the car, the sun hitting your face, and a gentle breeze flowing over your shoulders, making you mentally thank yourself for not forgetting your jacket.

Surprisingly, the venue is in the countryside, which you don't mind at all, the sight of cows and horses in the region provides you with a seratonin boost that you definitely needed today and for the rest of the week.

Your thoughts wander back to Jungkook, your stomach clenching at the prospect of not telling him where you were.

Its all you did over the months youve been dating. You told him what you were doing at all times. Because he cared, he wanted to know youre alright.

And so did you. You loved the little "gym", "home", "bed" texts. You loved knowing he thought of you.

So what if he wants to apologize, climb up your balcony and you aren't there?

You quickly shake your head when you grab your phone, realising he could just send you a simple text asking where youre at. So you unwind.

Your mothers already left for the hotel she reserved, while you midlessly inform her that you will follow her later, as you want to wander about the region a bit before heading out for the competition tonight.

You've always been drawn to farms, animals, and the fresh air of the countryside. You recall your aunt taking you to a farm every summer for a few years until your schedule became too hectic.

You purse your lips, remembering the fantastic times you had everytime you were there.

The laughter, the crying when you fell and scraped your knees, the calmness of zero responsibilities

As you set your bag down, you grab the boots you packed, shuddering at how muddy it got when it struck the floor. Regardless, you take off your white shoes and replace them with rainboots before standing back up, brushing your hands over your pants and crossing your arms as you observe the landscape.

Thats at least, until a cat approaches you, wrapping its tail around your legs as you lean down to pat it. For the first time in days, you chuckle.

Again. Your thoughts turn to Jungkook.

"Hello Missy."

As she purrs, your manicured fingertips sweep over the silky furr, a smile forming on your lips.

Strands of hair fall into your face over the minutes you spend patting it, the messy bun youd done 2 hours into the car ride slowly undoing itself

"I wish I could take you with me, you'd get along great with Bam," you start talking to her like a crazy woman. But you didn't mind because no one was here to make you out to be one.

"Bams my boyfriend's dog," you remark, the cat hissing as if she understood the word dog and associated it with something bad. You laugh once more. "i swear hes the nicest dog ever"

Seems enough for the cat, who leads you two to what appears to be an abandoned barn. It's still in good condition, despite looking pretty old. "This is where you live huh?" You ask, catching her gaze as you sit on some hay, which is remarkably comfortable.

The cat does nothing more than lie alongside you, having evidently entertained you enough as she closes her eyes. You grin as you continue to pet her, looking out at the open hayfield and keeping an eye on the cows who munch away on some grass or lay down. Your lips purse. "I should probably go back now," you groan, standing up and grabbing your suitcase, but not before halting abruptly as you recall something "ah."

When you open your bag, you find a small bag of treats that you always kept in there in case you went to Jungkooks and saw bam. You empty the bag on the floor and tap alongside it to get the cat's attention.

"Bye now," you say as you make your way out making sure youve got everything with you before walking straight to the hotel your mom booked nearby.

-

Jungkooks home. He realised he had to get his shit together and talk to you after his grandma basically kindly tossed him out after his second day staying there.

His grandma was right

Even if he was terrified. He had to talk tk you.

"The Jungkook I know has never been too scared to do anything," his grandma told him, and she was right.

There was not ever a single situation or challenge Jungkook had turned down. No matter how hard or impossible it seemed

He cracks his neck and knuckles when he finally sits up from his bed after being there all day. His eyes locking onto an empty spot on his arm that hasnt been inked up yet. Hed been thinking, but now was not the time to braintorm design ideas for it

Even if this situation was opening up his creative horizons. Somehow he knew that the time to fill the gap was close–hoping you'd be by his side when he got it done

He sighs, looking at the clock on his bedside table, and decides it's time to go. 6 pm. Thats when you generally finish practise, and as much as he wanted to text you first–like you'd always told him to–he decides not to.

What if you told him you never wanted to see him again?

Getting dressed–perhaps a little better today than on others–he heads straight out the door. Bam trailing him till the doors closed, a little whimper escaping his mouth. Even he could tell there was something wrong.

Due to the severe rain outside, he should have picked his car today, but he sought the thrill of his harley–the way it roared to life beneath him and gave him that last bit of confidence before he talked to you.

Even through the loud noise of his bike on the quiet streets, he could hear the rain splash against his leather jacket as he drives. He was playing a dangerous game, riding his bike at this speed on a rainy day.

But, to be honest, this was the least of his problems right now

Perhaps he should have worn a warmer jacket, and hes sure if you were here with him right now, you would have told him off the moment he walked out the door.

He smiles at the memory of the time you actually did send him home after he came to the studio on your break to hang out with you. Even if he refused to leave after your break until you were finished at first. But wait then again.

Mrs. Chuu.

Your mother.

He would have been caught anyhow. He doesn't really meet the academy's ideal. He doesnt fit in.

His lips form a scoff. He doesnt want to fit in

But then he bites his lips, and his thoughts wander again, his hands holding the bike handles tighter as he approaches his destination.

What the hell would he say? How would he begin? He dismisses the concept with a simple groan.

Once he's there and in front of you, I'll figure it out. Oh, how he longs for your touch and your hugs when he did something you liked or felt was nice, you would give him those little kisses on the cheek.

The way you always colmed your nicely done nails through his hair. And how his head fit surprisingly perfectly on your lap

His mind was racing with thoughts. But his heart was as well.

He missed your hair and how it smelled like vanilla all the time. The fact that you were the only person who could make him smile so stupidly that it was humiliating. But he enjoyed it. The pda, the ridiculous nicknames. The affection you shared. It seemed ridiculous to think that only two days ago he was too afraid to admit it. But fuck it. He loved you.

The last red light before he arrived on the road stopped him. Allowing him time to collect his thoughts. Because he knew that soon he arrived, his legs would naturally lead him to the studio where you practised.

You would be mad. He smiles as he imagines you scolding him for not warning you of his visit.

He'd promised himself that he'd be cautious when he walked in. But now that he's thinking about it, all he wants to do is walk up to you. Lift you up and kiss your–everywhere.

When the light turns green and allows him to proceed, his engine rumbles beneath him once more.

Because of the wetness of the rainy night, his leather booths and trousers glistened in the light. Somehow making him look like he was covered in glitter. A star.

-

You're very sure you're fashionably late to rehearsals, with everyone already in their assigned spots when you walk in.

Your mother is behind you, scrutinising everyone from head to toe. You smiled, you somewhat liked her give no fucks attitude, even if it was occasionally towards you. Your mother had it in her, and if there was one thing she was going to do, it was boast about you to the other mothers who were conversing in the allotted parents and family area near the stage.

You hand her your jewellery, knowing that you won't be needed for practise or the competition later, and bid her goodbye, while she only mumbles a 'good luck'.

You can tell she means well. And she will be cheering for you. Even if she hated showing it. Shes your mom after all

Before putting your phone in your bag and getting ready with the other participants, you check it one more time–and definitely not for any messages from Jungkook.

You bite your lip when the lockscreen shows no new messages.

You spot a few familiar faces among the approximately 100 participants in attendance, and you smile or say hello to several of them before you begin stretching.

Some of them compliment you on winning the last few competitions while others look you up and down the way your mom did earlier to everyone else. You dont blame them.

You were a nice person at heart, but this didnt mean youd purposefully underperform so they could win.

Competitions were fun, but you didnt come here to lose.

Mrs. Chuu usually accompanied you on these occasions. But she was still feeling under the weather, and this competition was just for funsies anyway–a distraction.

Besides, she'd already told you she needed to fix something at the studio, something along the lines of new mirror installments.

In some ways, you missed her soothing presence, but this was likely the smallest and shortest tournament you'd attended in the previous two years, so nervousness should be the last thing on your mind right now.

As you tighten the laces on your ballet flats to avoid eccidents, your sight wanders over the crowds. From women to men, tall and short, you enjoyed how everyone in here was so diverse yet shared the same passion for this sport.

You sit on the floor, sighing, watching others practise and chat while nervously biting your lip, feeling a little alone. You shouldn't. Everyone seemed pleasant, but courage is what you lacked at this time. So you wait, and you wait, and you wait. Until your name is called out

-

The pavement is as wet as Jungkook himself–he's lucky his hair is still in place, and he appears somewhat presentable. It's not like he cares what others think because he knows you'd never judge him anyway. Bit still, theres not need to look a mess.

As he approaches the entrance door, his boots hit the floor step by step, almost making him feel to be walking in slow motion.

It's strange because the parking lot is usually filled with cars–maybe it's because of the rain that people called courses off–he just hopes you arrived safely and didn't get wet or catch a cold on the way.

As he looks to the side, he adjusts his jacket, his jaline visible as he clenches it. Weird.

Usually, there is at least one guard who refuses to let anyone in who does not belong there–like Jungkook. But no ones here.

He doesn't think about it any more than he has to when his tattooed hand grips the door and opens it. The corridors are emty, and there is no one to throw him out. His luck, he thinks to himself as he navigates the corridors till he finds room 127. Your room.

It's a bit after 6, and he's hoping you haven't left yet. You shouldnt have. You generally take your time getting changed and conversing with Mrs. Chuu, assisting her in cleaning up a little before leabing.

As he reaches the last door, the doorknob is silver and neat. There is a dramatic contrast between it and him when he touches it, between clean and pretty, hes cold and rough.

He clears his throat before opening the door, his gaze fixed on the ground until he opens it. Just to discover the emty room.

You'd already left.

A sigh escapes his lips as he realises his next stop will be your house.

"Fuck"

-

The spotlight is on you, and you think you cant see everyone in front of you as the lights shine in your eyes, blinding you of your surroundings.

The spotlight, the loud music, and the attention is nothing new to you. You want to scream, escape this place, and fall into the arms of the person you thought loved you the most.

But he isn't here right now, and he may never be. So you dance, your feet hitting the floor to every beat, the choreography you'd learnt with Mrs. Chuu over the previous few weeks, fitting flawlessly as the audience applauds. And you understand it's all about you.

You are well aware of your abilities. You know you're going to win. That's all that matters, right? To win?.

The song finishes before you know it, and your ears go numb somewhere between the cheers and applause. Your feet take you backstage, where your mother is talking to you, and you nod along.

You remove your ballets and place them in your bag before putting on the shoes you came here with. You decide to undo your hair on the way back to the hotel, knowing that the results of today's event will be available online in a few days.

"You shouldnt be surprised to find your name at the top of the list in the coming days" your mom says as she rushes you out

Its nothing new. Same old same old.

People are coming to talk and praise you but you continue to walk along, not in the mood for conversation.

And you know you seem like the biggest bitch right now. But you have to put yourself first. You werent in the right mind to talk to anyone right now

You should be excited, and you typically are. But not when the person who should have been thrilled the most for you was nowhere to be found.

You want to curse at him, scream at him, and throw the stupid shirts he left at your house at him. And maybe it's a good thing you're not home right now. Perhaps it's for the best that you left.

Maybe it's a good thing he's waiting for you outside, but you're gone. Maybe it's a good thing he's hurt.

You don't want to feel like this. Tears gather in your eyes as soon as the notion of Jungkook being sad crosses your mind. You should not be thinking this right now. Even if he may have deserved it.

So you get into the car without saying anything. Your mother doesn't ask questions, she never does. She just urges the driver to get going.

Your head leans against the window, and like the raindrops that are falling down the window, tears stream down your cheeks

-

"Whats this grand entrace for?" Jungkook's head jerks around again as he hears a woman's voice, her hair grey and clearly in her fifties.

He clears his throat–he wasn't like the other guys who attended this school, therefore there was no need for him to make excuses and pretend he went here. He clearly didnt

"I was about to leave," his voice is firm, but the woman notices the disappointment in it.

"That's not what I asked, young man," the woman says, placing the towel she was using to clean the mirrors before leaving to retrieve something from the back on her shoulders, crossing her arms.

Jungkook clears his throat again, this time annoyed.

"And i said i was just about to leave." He says again, louder. His muscles bulge from behind his jacket, and his tattoos are anything but hidden.

That's when the woman's eyes widen and her lips open and close. Trying to appear unconcerned.

Jungkook looks at her, waiting for her to say anything, but when she doesn't, he scoffs and walks away. That is at least until the woman speaks up again. "Its you isnt it?"

That's it. That's all she says, and Jungkook stops in his tracks. What the fuck was going on today? Everyone irritating him to no end. "Me?" He turns around, rolling his eyes.

"The guy," she says, her voice unsteady, puzzled, and annoyed.

"Listen, lady-," Jungkook sighs.

"Mrs," she interrupts. "Not 'lady'. I'm married," she says, making him scoff. He didn't expect to hear more than 7 words from anyone today.

"Listen missus" Jungkook starts again "Im not here to talk, i was looking for someone but that person is obviously not here, so im gonna get the fuck out now-"

"Language," she interripts firmly, yet her brow furrows as she scrutinises him from head to toe, from his tattoos to his piercings to his black long hair. Except for the tattoos, everything fit pretty well to the description you gave her of him

Youd purposely not mentioned that last part

Long black hair, tall, and typically wearing black. Its him.

Again, when she doesnt speak up, he turns to leave, this time for good. But its not until hes halfway down the hallway, pack of cigs already in hand to wind down outside, that mrs. Chuu catches up to him

"Youre looking for y/n" she breathes out. And Jungkooks world clashes down.

Fuck.

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

how another little bit of hope dies

tags/ warnings: game designer! jungkook || non-idol au || established relationship || angst || hurt and no comfort || bad communication (womp womp)

length: 1k

notes: no taglist! no taglist!!

☆ collaboration with: @bonny-kookoo 💕 ☆

☆ series masterlist

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

You’re sprawled out on the couch when he gets home, something he has told you not to do time and time again. Because although you’re taking time off work, he knows how grouchy you can get after staying up as late as he usually does.

Because as much as he would love to indulge you tomorrow morning, with breakfast in bed as you complain about how much your head hurts from sleeping in longer than you’d have liked, he simply won’t. He can’t.

“Baby?” he throws his jacket over the back of the chair.

You tilt your head to look at him slightly, though only for a moment before your eyes are flickering back towards the TV. Another silent act of defiance. Though you doubted he would do much about it, each small little thing you know he hates slowly whittling its way into your life, anything for him to just… realise your existence.

Just to know you’re still there, that you understand work is important but surely you should be important too. The both of you had fragile human hearts, and for the longest time you were convinced his held more empathy than yours ever had. And maybe in all those quiet intimate moments, it had leaked from every crevice of his body, absorbed by you until his heart lay a little wearier of your existence. The low hum of love only buzzing in the back of your mind as his life is consumed by what you can only assume are more important things.

“Hey, I’m talking to you” he says, moving your legs over his lap when he sits down, “Why’re you still up?”

You swallow, every morsel of your entire being telling yourself not to snap. Not to have a go at him and start a fight when really you wanted to be in bed, where it was warm and safe, yet ever so lonely. Even as he clings onto you, hours later from when he’d gotten home and yet you still couldn’t sleep.

‘Just not tired’ it hadn’t been more than a whisper, slipping off your tongue like you’d practiced for hours while he was gone, ‘where have you been?’

He’d only shrugged, sheepish little smile on his face that had your heart tugging in your chest, mind whirring with what it could be.

‘Just out’

You wanted to ask where, who he was with, why he was out longer than he’d promised, all the silly silly little questions that would make you sound like a jealous girlfriend, nit-picking at every little part of his life. Simply because it felt like you didn’t know him anymore.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

“Jungkook?” you call from the kitchen, knife still in your hand as you peer out into the living room, eyes catching on the closed door of his office, “Jungkook” you call a little louder. Bitter frustration tickling the back of your mind at his silence.

You slam the knife down on the counter harder than intended, awful little clatter ringing in your ears as you storm over to the closed door. You don’t bother knocking, tell-tale signs of anger slowly working their course through your body as you step into the room.

His eyes are wide when they meet your, echo of him slamming his laptop closed sinking into the walls. He drops his phone, scrambling to pick it up when the screen falls face-up, harsh glare of whatever website he was looking at stinging your eyes momentarily as he shoves it into his pocket.

You pause for a moment, mush of words pinching between your eyes, so much to say clawing up your throat and dissolving on your tongue.

Jungkook stands up, and you take a step back when he steps towards you.

“Y/n?” he asks, eyes still a little wide. And maybe if he wasn’t stepping towards you, dull thump of his feet against the carpet, you’d be able to hear his hammering heart.

“What were you looking at?” you ask, eyes glancing over at his closed laptop, eyebrows furrowing as you look back at him.

It comes out in one breath, so quick in defence that ugly feeling in your chest seems to blossom that little bit more.

“Nothing”

“It didn’t look like nothing” you shake your head, exasperated at his answer, “Jungkook what was it?”

“Really” he laughs, “It’s nothing to worry about”

“Show me then” you say, tongue wetting your bottom lip.

He sucks in a short breath, “I can’t”

“What do you mean you can’t? If it’s nothing, then why can’t you show me?”

He winces at the raise in tone of your voice, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re being unreasonable” he shakes his head.

As soon as the words leave his mouth it simmers over, so much pent-up frustration seeping through every pore of your body. Absolute rage knocking at your brain.

“You know what?” you point at him, “Fuck you”

He opens his mouth, but you stop him, “I’m being unreasonable? Me?”

He steps towards you, utterly baffled as to where this was coming from, the pure unbridled rage in your eyes, cheeks warming up to the tips of your ears. You pull your arm away from him when he tries to hold your hand, his eyebrows furrowing in hurt as you try and push him away.

“Y/n” he says, tone low, “Hold on a moment”

You take a step away from him, “No, you can’t do that”

You swallow down the tell-tale sign of tears, “I’m leaving”

“Where are you going?” he follows you into the bedroom, stood in the doorway of the bedroom as you rummage around for your own hoodie, tugging his one you were wearing over your head.

You ignore him, tugging clothes out of the closet, left in a pile over his clean washing he hadn’t put away yet, another job you’d started refusing to do.

You duck under his arm, slipping your shoes on.

“Y/n, come on” Jungkook says, hands hovering, unsure what to do with himself, “Let’s talk about it.”

You pause for a moment, “No” you shake your head, turning to him with narrowed eyes, “Go back to whatever you were doing”

You nod towards his office, “And make your own fucking lunch for once!” you shout before slamming the front door.

You release a long-drawn breath, rattle of the door ringing in your ears. You don’t hear his footsteps, nor another call of your name.

Wretched disappointment clawing at your insides, another piece of fragile blossomed hope wilting.

so excited for this <3 !!!!

— head over skates · jjk ; part i.

··· SUMMARY; jeon jungkook is the captain of the hockey team and one of the biggest fuckboys on campus. you happen to have known him for as long as you can remember but he is not who he used to be and you simply can't stand it.

so what happens when you're suddenly stuck doing a project with him for three weeks?

PAIRING; hockey player!jungkook x f. reader

GENRE; fwb au, childhood friends to enemies to lovers au, college au

WORDCOUNT; 1,514

RATING; 18+

WARNINGS; swearing

a/n; HEAD OVER SKATES SERIES IS HERE!!!! it’s a drabble series now so these chapters will be short but that’s better than nothing amirite :)) i hope you like this first part! enjoyyy <3 also, please lmk what you think!

“The project will be done in pairs of two–”

Jihyo copies your smirk from across the room as you lock eyes with her. You were thinking the same thing – you and her will pair up and do this project together. As best friends and classmates since freshman year, you’ve learned that you work the best alongside each other. However, both of your smirks crumble into tiny pieces as Professor Kim finishes her sentence.

“–which have already been decided beforehand.”

You let out a quiet, frustrated groan as you slump in your seat. Jihyo pouts and shoots a glare at Professor Kim without her noticing. You watch with a bored expression as she pulls up a document showing the pairs for the project. You skim the document until your eyes land on your name, written in Times New Roman right next to–

Oh, hell no.

The universe has a sick sense of humor, is the first thought your brain is able to process as you stare at the name written next to yours. It’s the name of the one person you haven’t spoken to since senior year of high school. It’s the name of the one person you still hold a grudge against. It’s the name of your childhood best friend and high school crush – Jeon Jungkook.

When you first met Jungkook, he was just 5 years old and nothing like the man he is today.

Back then he had just moved in across the street and it didn’t take long for you to realize he was the cutest, most shy little boy – you can ask anyone who knew him back then. He was careful with everything from animals to dead objects to other people and yet he was just a pinch of wild and reckless enough to allow himself to do some of the crazy stuff kids do when growing up. He was smaller than the other boys at his age; short and skinny, a round head, framed by his thick strands of black hair. He also had big, star-filled doe eyes that could convince any adult to let him have everything his way. And having his way was something Jungkook got used to as he grew older – sometimes a bit too much perhaps.

As his best friend during all the years going from elementary school through middle school and the first years of high school, you witnessed it first hand – teachers and his friends alike were all willing to go out of their way to make sure Jungkook was satisfied. No one really knows how that came to be – perhaps it had nothing to do with Jungkook at all but everything to do with the fact that his father was the board director at one of the biggest enterprises in the country.

Jungkook has always been very oblivious, hence why he didn’t put much thought into the special treatment he received from everyone as soon as people found out just how rich his parents were. 

While in middle school, he had yet to realize how girls were starting to look at him, how they would giggle whenever he would flash his boyish smile in their direction, how they would almost trip over each other to get his attention and call his name during lunch breaks only to blush and say ‘nevermind’ when he would finally react. Jungkook had yet to realize that he was becoming hotter and less shy. He was oblivious as ever but still cute nonetheless. 

And while all this went down, you watched from the sideline, wondering when he would realize – wondering when your friendship would end. Because it would. You knew that from the moment Jungkook flirtatiously smirked and winked at your friend one day without realizing. Or maybe he did. Either way, you realized it on his behalf – he was slowly becoming a big flirt.

It’s now five years later and you were right. And as much as you like to be right, you’ve never hated it more.

Your friendship did end.

It started fading out almost as soon as Jungkook realized what he was able to achieve with his good looks and flirty nature. Now you and Jungkook attend the same college but in two different worlds most of the time. The chances of you and him ever going back to being friends like you were when you were pre-teens are minimal. And it’s not like you’re trying to befriend him again.

Cocky jocks who think they’re the shit aren’t exactly your first choice when making friends. 

And somehow during your high school junior year, Jungkook became one of them. He picked up on the term ‘working out’ and found out he had muscles and how to grow them. He also found out how to use those exact muscles to make the girls swoon, making them feed his ego way more than what is considered healthy. And as if that wasn't enough, Jungkook began practicing hockey.

And guess what? He was damn good at it.

Ego overfed.

As time went by, you and Jungkook talked less. He was busy with his new friends, playing hockey, and hanging out with girls that were way more interesting than his best friend, also known as you. Eventually you found yourself spending time with other people instead of him, finding it tiring and painful to be the second choice whenever his other friends didn’t have time or when his parents would mention you and he would 'suddenly' remember you existed. 

The sight of different girls from school entering and leaving his house without his parents knowing wasn’t that fun either if you’re being honest.

Although, you never actually told him that – but you didn’t have to because the two of you were gliding apart by each day you spent doing your own thing. It hurt but your silly crush eventually turned into anger which later turned into despisal and borderline hatred towards your former best friend. Because Jeon Jungkook was nothing more than just another jock with an overfed ego and way too many fangirls trailing behind him everywhere he goes.

Your point is deemed proven the moment Jungkook gets up from his seat in the back and makes his way to you – said fangirls all turn their scowling gazes to you the second they realize what is happening. You feel his presence before he opens his mouth to greet you, something about it making your stomach churn as he plops down in the seat next to you.

“Hey, partner,” he grins when you slowly turn to face him. “What are the odds, huh?”

You don’t spare him a glance nor a reply as you get up from your seat, leaving him behind and trying your very best to ignore the way his eyes follow your every move. Your professor seems less than excited to see you standing next to her desk as she looks up at you.

“Mrs. Kim,” you offer her your best polite smile, “is there any chance it’s possible to change partners for this project? It seems-”

Professor Kim glances back to your spot where Jungkook is sitting in the next chair, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back, hints of a smirk on his lips as he watches you and Mrs. Kim. “Miss ____, the pairs have been decided beforehand for a reason. I was hoping to save time and energy by doing this and will not be spending said saved energy on splitting up pairs just because you’re unhappy with yours.”

You feel a frustrated whine push at the back of your throat as the words leave her red-tinted lips. “But-”

“____, I know you prefer to work with Jihyo in every class you share,” she pointedly and calmly says. “But as the professor, it is my job to challenge the students and push them out of their comfort zone. If there aren’t any actual issues with having Mr. Jeon as your partner, I suggest you take on the challenge and get the best out of it.”

The fake smile she shoots at you has you frowning as you turn on your heel, defeat hanging over you in a gray cloud as you make your way back to your seat. Jungkook’s smirk has widened and he seems more than satisfied by the fact that your request got rejected by the professor. You slump in your seat once again, stealing a glance at Jihyo who got paired up with none other than Kim Namjoon – the top student of this class and her crush.

What a lucky bitch.

“Cheer up, ____,” Jungkook’s voice intrudes your thoughts, pulling you back. He’s smiling smugly when you turn to face him for the first time since he sat down. “I promise I’ll behave.”

You huff out an unimpressed scoff and turn your attention to your notes, the grip on your pen so tight your knuckles turn white. You miss the way Jungkook’s smile falters a little as you look away.

This is going to be the longest three weeks of your life – you’re sure of it.

series masterlist · next part | all rights reserved © mercurygguk

CLOSE TO YOU // JJK

it should’ve been easier than this, right?

+

in which oc and jungkook sleep together and he can’t get over it

navi | m. list | ask me ! | send an ask to be on the taglist ! i will not be responding to taglist requests anywhere else !  

pairings: goofy jungkook + uptight oc

au/genre:

uni au

friends with benefits 

fluff & crack

warnings:

implied + actual smut (x)

toxic behaviour (it’s a process)

Keep reading

OMYGOD WHAT!??!?!?!? WHAT I CANT ?!?! WHAT IM SO?!?!? OMYGOD?!?!

dextrocardia | 08

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, smut

word count: 6.3k

warnings: a lot of talk about assault of different kinds (sexual included), harrassment, sexism, there's blood and very serious injuries, trauma heavy. if you feel very bothered reading stuff like that, please skip this <3

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 8/? 

<previous | next>

© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

“Answer me. You’re a double agent?!”

You’re too terrified to be embarrassed by the way you’re trembling, sitting on the floor in your pair of black cotton shorts and gray t-shirt, pressing your back against the wall furthest from the door. Not that nor the tears that start to wet your lashes and soon enough roll down your cheeks.

Despite not being too surprised, you’re obviously not any less scared.

“Please don’t,” you beg, your vision starting to become blurry from tears, “you don’t have to do this. Please, Jeongguk.”

You focus on the silhouette of him, the dark blue dress shirt and black pants. “I know what I did was wrong, I know, but I didn’t know what else to do. He was pressing t–too hard, and I couldn’t breathe.”

Tears and fear block your throat, and your heart beats a thousand beats a minute, but you try your best to get the words out, try to convince him even though you know it’s a lost cause.

“I know I’m not im–important or pretty, but I didn’t want to die. What was I supposed to do? My hand slipped out, and I–I just reached for his g–gun.” 

Wiping the tears with your wrist, you see how he changes tactics, the way Jeongguk’s eyes have gone from furious to looking worried. How he’s put on his acting face.

“What… what are you talking about?” he asks, voice void of any anger as he takes another step toward you. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice or scare you, I’m sorry, but what… are you talking about?”

Quickly reaching for the razor blade in your bra, you accidentally cut your finger when you remove the blade from its case. Blood drips down your hand as you raise it in a pathetic warning.

“Don’t come any closer,” you try to sound confident, but maybe it is a bit embarrassing how your voice shakes and your hand is so unsteady that you have to support it with the other. “Please, just let me go, Jeongguk? I’m pulling the report, and I’ve apologized. If you let me go, I’ll disappear tonight, okay? You won’t ever have to see me again.”

Your gaze is drawn to the knife still gripped by his veiny hand, and so is his. A second later, he tosses the knife to the other side of the room where it hits the floor with a clinking sound and looks to bounce underneath the bed, closer to you than him, as if he wouldn’t still be able to reach it before you.

“What… report?” he asks, sinking down to one knee, still only a few steps into the room. “What are you talking about?”

But you’re not fooled by those pretty eyes, and it frustrates you how he thinks he can look at you softly and have you forget everything. It lives permanently in the back of your mind. The threats, the attempts, the fear, and now ultimately, the defeat.

“Stop pretending, Jeongguk,” you plead, sniffling. “We both know what this is. If you’re going to do it, just… get it over with. Please. Don’t play with me like this.”

Like he’s thinking hard, maybe even realizing something, his eyes lose focus, and he stands up.

“You’re talking about Hoseong, aren’t you?”

You’re quiet—well, as quiet as a crying, pathetic mess can be—when he looks down at you. You’re not sure what it is that he’s hoping for, if it’s for you to lower your guard and vulnerably crawl into his arms or if he’s deliberately trying to provoke you to get a reaction that he can answer. You meet his eyes with your razor blade slowly lowered, and he waits for something, his eyes searching yours for answers he already knows. But you can’t give them, and he backs out of the room with you still trembling on the floor.

Raindrops smatter against the windshield as Jeongguk drives toward the city.

His phone dings with a text, and he raises it, reading the preview.

He sets his course toward a more specific goal. A bar.

It’s long since dark when he steps out of the car, locking it behind him and looking around. It took him around forty-five minutes to reach the well known destination, and he spent them all in silence, his thoughts loud enough.

The wet pavement reflects light from the streetlights and a few neon signs, and Jeongguk walks with determined steps up to the door and pushes it open, placing the car keys into his breast pocket for easy access.

Inside, it’s busy as usual. People are sitting in booths or on bar stools around round tables or the bar itself, and they’re laughing, chatting loudly and singing along to the music.

Not long after entering, Jeongguk spots them. His friends. There’s three of them, sitting around a circular table.

“JK, hey!” Seunghwan calls, alcohol evident in his flushed cheeks.

Jeongguk nods in a neutral greeting, coming to stand before their table. Hoseong tips his bottle of beer slightly to the side, looking at him curiously. 

“Thought you were shipped out? How’s it going?” he speaks loudly over the music. “Can’t believe you got her to apologize, man,” he grins, leaning back.

“Had to ask you a few things,” Jeongguk answers at the same volume, finding it harder than he thought to keep his emotions at bay, “about her, actually.”

 Hoseong and Ryung both raise their eyebrows, but Jeongguk continues. “I want to know what happened that night. When you got shot.”

Although looking surprised, Hoseong still lets a smile pull on his lips. “Well, I fucked her. You know that, and she got pissed because I wasn’t interested in being her boyfriend.”

Seunghwan chuckles, but Jeongguk doesn’t find it funny.

“You ‘fucked her?’” he repeats. He knew that, but this time, he’s looking at the situation in a new light. 

“Yeah, I fucked her,” Hoseong shrugs, toning it down just a tad, like he’s suspecting where Jeongguk is taking the conversation.

“Well, did she want you to ‘fuck her?’ Did she threaten you with the gun because you turned her down, and you were shot by accident?” Jeongguk stares at the person he thought was his friend. “Or was it intentional?”

For about two seconds, Hoseong just looks at Jeongguk like he’s… assessing something, and Jeongguk isn’t sure how the man in front of him will react.

But he leans back again, rolling his eyes lightheartedly. “Oh, come on, man, don’t be like that. You know how women are these days, they want to be tied up and fucked, but when you don’t want her to call you ‘sweetie pie’ and hold hands, they scream ‘rape.’”

Jeongguk holds his breath for a second, trying to keep his cool. He looks around at the unsuspecting environment. “Let’s talk outside, I can barely hear you in here.”

Before he turns on his heel, heading back toward the exit, he sees Hoseong stand from the barstool nonchalantly.

It doesn’t rain anymore, and the outside air is a lot colder than the sweaty atmosphere inside. Somehow, the difference in sound level makes the situation all that more real. Jeongguk walks away from the entrance to give them some privacy, not to be nice but to maximize his chances of getting the entire story.

“You forced yourself on her, didn’t you?” he turns around, putting his clenched fists in his pockets. Hoseong and Ryung followed, but Seunghwan stayed behind. “You tied her up in the hotel room you were staked out in for that case, and you raped her. She got free and shot you in self-defense. Am I getting close?”

“You’re overreacting, dude. You know she was in love with me, right?”

Jeongguk feels his anger and frustration grow, but he tries to keep calm. “I knew that she loved you, yes, but it doesn’t mean she automatically wanted to sleep with you. She filed a report too, didn’t she? What happened with that?”

Hoseong shrugs indifferently, and it’s unclear if he doesn’t know or doesn’t care. Or maybe he just doesn’t want Jeongguk to know. Jeongguk shakes his head in disbelief and turns around. He needs to leave before he does something stupid.

Ryung calls his name, but Jeongguk is already walking back to the car briskly. He gets into the driver’s seat, slams the door shut, and starts the car, and when he glances back in the rearview mirror, he sees the people he thought he knew standing close together, talking. They’re looking his way.

The drive back is tortuous and slow. Jeongguk navigates back out of the city with ease, but then he’s stuck on the freeway with nothing and no one else but himself and his thoughts. He’s been living a lie ever since he started his current job, and slowly but surely, his brain puts all the pieces together. The pieces he has—some, he’s certainly still missing.

In a fit of rage and despair, he gives the steering wheel three harsh and undeserved hits with his palm, the horn blaring each time.

“Oh, God,” he whispers, shutting his eyes for a microsecond. What has he done? What has he done, what the fuck has he done?

He bites his lip, reaching for the phone he threw onto the passenger side, his eyes alternating between the road and Google, where he’s searching for a phone number.

Your limbs are frozen and your senses both feel like they’re hyper tuned to your surroundings and numb all at once. You don’t know when Jeongguk left–actually, you’re not even certain that he did leave. Sure, you heard the door close and the car drive off, but he could’ve parked it a few houses down and snuck back inside somehow, waiting somewhere in the dark for you to lower your guard. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hear Fenrir bark, but all you can focus on is that dark doorway.

Then, you hear sounds. A car door, then the front door. Fenrir stops barking, and your worry grows. Then, there are steps, and someone is coming for you. Is it Jeongguk? Or did he leave you to one of his friends? Is it Hoseong? Unable to stop them, tears start to flow again. You promised yourself you’d meet your end with at least a bit of dignity, but you’re not that brave, evidently.

It’s Jeongguk who appears in the doorway, his hair and clothes slightly wet. You look behind him, waiting for the rest of his colleagues to come into view, but they don’t.

“Hey,” he greets quietly, looking like he’s trying to appear non-threatening, but you remember hearing him promise his friends to put you in your place, show you that it’s a man’s world you’re living in. 

Put an end to it. He’s certainly tried before.

You press yourself impossibly closer to the wall as he takes another step into the room. You’ve cheated death four times–that you know of–but you won’t be able to this time.

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”

It doesn’t matter that his brown eyes look kind and soft, they’re not, and he doesn’t care for you. He thinks you’re ugly, doesn’t think anyone could ever want or love you. He only cares about him, his friends, and their pride. He thinks that you should’ve died that night, and he made you apologize for surviving.

Now he’s just playing with his food. 

“Stop, don’t come any closer. I’m warning you,” you panic, raising the blade again.

Jeongguk stops, and his eyes land on your other hand, on the nick in the skin of your ring finger. “You’re still bleeding.”

He takes another slow step, and another. You keep your terrified eyes on him, but you’re sure he can tell that with every step of his, your trembling worsens.

“Please stop playing this game with me,” you plead, tears rolling down your cheeks. He won, they all did, can’t he just put you out of your misery?

“I’m not playing. Here, let me look at your finger.”

He’s so close now that he sinks to one knee and holds his hand out. You’re still gripping the razor blade, but he obviously doesn’t think you’ll actually cut him. You don’t make any move to let him see the hand you’ve put in your lap, so as slow as he can, Jeongguk reaches for it, himself.

You don’t have the courage to fight him. Logically, you know it’s your skin that’s freezing cold, probably due to shock, but his skin is burning against you when he grabs your hand. He must feel every little tremble as well. You shut your eyes. It helps not seeing him, but you still smell him, feel him around you.

“I can’t hurt you. You knew that,” your shaky mess of a voice states your discovery quietly.

Just… any second now. A blow to your head, or a knife to your throat. You made a breakthrough in the case, so he doesn’t need you anymore. He’s going to end your life, plant whatever weapon he uses at the Jung’s, and frame them for your murder. An undercover mission gone wrong–they found out about your real identities and killed you. Jeongguk escaped, and he gets the glory of clearing the case and putting the bank robbers and subsequent murderers behind bars. Not to mention the relief of knowing you’ll take the truth to the grave, and the new chief, whoever they are, will be none the wiser.

“Where’s Fenrir? What did you do to him?” you whisper, breathing becoming more difficult by the second as you’re imagining all the ways he could kill you.

Surprisingly, Jeongguk lets go of your hand and stands up, backing a few steps. You chance a glance at him and see that he looks worried–there’s a crease in his forehead and his eyes are wide. 

“I haven’t done anything to him. He’s in the backyard.”

So he’s dead then. You don’t comment on it, instead you shut your eyes as another wave of tears runs down your cheeks. Like before, the rate at which you’re breathing increases, and you feel lightheaded, even as you’re sitting down.

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” he mumbles, and the sound of movement has you peeking in fear. “Just… hold on.”

For some reason, he’s backing out of the room, leaving you once again in the limbo of not knowing what he’s planning. The rain beats harshly against the roof, and the sound of thunder makes you jump. You hate storms, nothing good ever happens during them.

You feel yourself going insane, waiting for him, but he’s not gone for long this time. Do you prefer him in the room with you? At least then you know where he is and what he’s doing. It makes you anxious, not knowing. Maybe he’s pouring gasoline over the furniture, waiting to light a match?

Surprisingly, you watch as he returns to round the bed–away from you–and approaches the dresser. He rummages through the top drawer, searching for something, until he finds it and turns around. 

It’s when you see him, rounding the bed again–towards you–with the handcuffs in hand that you scramble back along the wall and into the corner. You remember how he teased you about it, arrogantly offering to tie you up, cuff you to the bed. If he’s planning on resuming what Hoseong started…

Noticing your distress, Jeongguk’s eyes grow wider, and he stops and stands in front of the bed with his hands raised.

“Oh, no, no, they’re not for you,” he explains, looking at you, sitting terrified in the corner. His eyes move from you to the silvery cuffs dangling from his hand and back again. “He cuffed you, didn’t he? Hoseong?”

You’re not sure where he’s going with it, but your guess has evolved. He wants to act sweet and like he cares so that you’ll give in and he can do whatever he wants to punish you, gloating about how he managed to trick you. The dumb feminazi falling for it and thinking he cares for her.

“Look.”

You do, watching anxiously as he opens one side of the handcuffs and locks it around his wrist. The other side, he closes around the metal bed frame, leaving about two yards between you. He sits down and throws the key, which lands at your feet.

“I can’t hurt you.”

You don’t think about the fact that even if the bed probably weighs a ton, Jeongguk could surely pull it with him if he wanted to reach you. No, you don’t know what you’re thinking about, if anything, you’re just so overwhelmed and scared and relieved that you barely have time to reach for the empty, gray plant pot before you’re throwing up. It’s just bile, proof that it’s been a while since you’ve eaten anything. 

Another thing you haven’t done is sleep. And for your poor, terrified, starved, and sleep-deprived body, it’s too much. As carefully as you can when the room is spinning, and someone is speaking in the background, you lie down, your cheek against the cold floor, and you pass out.

You’re still absolutely exhausted when you come to. It takes a while for your eyes to even open, and you can guess what a mess you must look like. Your head is pounding, surely from dehydration, and your entire body aches. At least some parts of you don’t feel that cold anymore–someone has thrown a duvet from the bed over you, covering your body pretty well except for your left foot and your right shoulder. You’re not trembling anymore, not even as your eyes find Jeongguk.

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but he’s still sitting there, across from you with his wrist cuffed to the bed. He’s moved the bedside table away in order to lean his back against the wall. He hasn’t noticed that you’re awake yet–after all, you haven’t moved–and he keeps his eyes on his right hand that he rests atop his knees, his feet flat against the floor. 

You can’t help but think that he looks like he’s waiting patiently for something, maybe the train, worried that it might be late but understanding that there’s no use in pacing. As you observe him tiredly, you notice something very faintly, so faintly you’re not sure if you’re imagining it. It almost looks as if his eyes are puffier than usual, maybe just a tad bit red too. Like how people look when they were crying a long time ago. Now that you think about it, his hair looks a little messier than usual, and he’s unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt, as well as the sleeves that he’s rolled up a tad.

A chill runs through your body, and slowly, you pull the duvet closer around your body, notifying Jeongguk of your consciousness.

“Are we waiting for your friends?” your voice is so strained, it comes out as a whisper.

He looks at you, smiling the saddest little smile you’ve ever seen on anyone, and he shakes his head. “No, I called Jihyo, and she’s on her way to pick you up. It’ll take her a while to get here but she’s on her way.”

You narrow your tired eyes slightly. He’s lying.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he apologizes gently. “If I had, I wouldn’t…”

It’s the way he looks bothered that almost has you believing him. But you know just how good of an actor he is. He has despised you ever since he arrived at the district, commented on you and your body with disgust. Yet, you’ve seen how he’s capable of holding your hand in his, kissing you gently and like he means it. Only to go back to insulting you. 

“Everyone knows,” you state quietly, calling his bluff.

“I didn’t. And I’d never dream of hurting you, I promise.”

“You hate me more than anyone, Jeongguk.”

It really is true. Jeongguk obviously feels immense loyalty to his friends, and he’d do anything for them. He’s been one of the most vocal ones, letting everyone know just what a terrible, disgusting, worthless person you are.

“And I’ve gotten to know you pretty well since you transferred, especially here. You can say how sorry you are and how you didn’t know all you want, but I know you’re lying. I hurt your friend and now, with the chief retiring, I’m a threat. What would happen if the new chief is a woman and our station’s little secret gets out? Pretty unlikely, but not impossible, right?”

You swallow, blinking away tears. “You can lie all you want but we both know I was never going to make it back home.”

There’s something that looks like pain in his brown eyes as he watches you.

“I don’t hate you. I thought I did because–fuck–I thought the chief was protecting you by not dealing with the problem, not that he was protecting him. Us.”

His frustration turns into something reminding you of guilt when he continues. “You have no idea how sorry I am. And I can promise you, it’s never occurred to me to hurt you. Not physically, at least. I know I’ve been a dick to you–which is obviously coming back to bite me now–and I wanted to make you feel bad for what I thought you did, but I’d never want to injure you. No one has any plans on doing so.”

His words make you chuckle even though it’s not fun in the least. 

“What?” he looks confused.

“Do you think I’m stupid? Not only have I found the trackers you’ve put on my car, but you’ve tampered with the brakes on it three times in the last months. My mechanic keeps bugging me about filing a report, saying I shouldn’t drive any car for my own safety. How do I explain to her that I can’t exactly go to the police?”

Jeongguk only stares at you, and it makes you all the more frustrated.

“Obviously, I can’t say exactly which one of you is doing it, or who it is standing across the street from my home, just watching, late at night sometimes. Or whose breathing it is on the phone calls. Do you remember like three months ago when I made the mistake of getting coffee and stopping by the printer, leaving my mug unsupervised for three minutes? Who was it that put the fucking cyanide in it? You can tell them that it left a bit of suspiciously chunky foam on the surface.”

“Cyanide?”

“Yeah. Had it tested. You can also tell whoever it is that keeps throwing poisoned meat into my yard that I always check it before letting Fenrir out.”

Jeongguk is quiet, looking like someone just turned his world upside down.

“You really meant it when you said you thought I’d poison your food if you let me cook. That’s why you barely sleep too, right? You’re scared I’m going to hurt you. You brought the razor blades and the dog for me, didn’t you? You’re more scared of me than of the suspects.”

“Why on earth do you think I have a trained personal protection Doberman to begin with?”

Jeongguk puts his face in his free hand, “Fuck, I’m so stupid. I had no idea.”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly, closing your eyes for a second. You know Jeongguk is only playing with you because there’s just no chance he’s gone so long being besties with a rapist and attempted murderer without knowing. Partaking in harassment without knowing the reason why? No, no way. But does it matter at the moment? No, probably not.

“Why did you agree to come here?” he asks, sounding almost… helpless? “If you thought it was a setup?”

“Well,” you start, pain spreading through your exhausted body. Your lips pull into a small, sad smile. “I can’t exactly decline anything at work or I won’t have a job to go to. With the kind of letter of recommendation the chief would leave me, no one else would hire me. Besides, we both know I wouldn’t be safe just by quitting.”

The smile fades, and a tear escapes the corner of your eyes, dropping toward the floor. “And frankly… I can’t do it anymore. It’s been two years, and it only escalates. I don’t have the energy to always look over my shoulder, or lock and barricade my doors and windows at night. I can’t afford to have my car fixed every or every other month, and one day, I’ll miss something, or you’ll go after my mother. It’s just a matter of time.”

“So you… came here, convinced that… I was going to kill you?”

Slowly, you move a hand to your face, wiping the tear away. “Yeah. I mean, I always hoped things wouldn’t end up this way. Or that, at least I could defend myself from… prolonged pain. But at the same time, I knew nothing would change. And I… I promised myself that I’d try my best to be brave and not fight it cause it’s going to happen sooner or later, but… well, I’m evidently not very brave. I’m a coward, coming here to die but still fighting it and begging you to spare my life.”

Then again, the last couple of days have made you doubt yourself. If Jeongguk came after you with a knife, could you… hurt him? With Hoseong, it was a no-brainer, and you fought for your life on pure instinct, only making a conscious effort not to shoot him where he wouldn’t survive it. 

But Jeongguk? He hates your guts, finds you disgusting, and is a man like them all. But as you look at him now, you see the way he held baby Doyun’s hand at the barbeque, and you see him playing and cuddling with Fenrir when no one’s looking. You remember the feeling of his hair between your fingers as he rests his head in your lap, and his gentle hands around your waist. You walked into the trap, and you got trapped. You couldn’t hurt him.

“So, I’m essentially your… terminal illness,” he speaks, looking at you sadly. Your eyes widen. “Eunha told me; said she wanted me to take care of my wife. But you’re not sick, are you?”

“No.”

“Fuck,” he shuts his eyes tightly before opening them and looking straight at you with a pained look, “I know you don’t believe me, but I’ve never regretted anything more in my entire life. I thought I was doing the right thing, but instead, I–fuck, I made you apologize? For–”

He hides his face in his free hand again. “I am so sorry.”

It’s hard not to believe him when he looks and sounds so genuine, but you’ve experienced his talent before. Not only that, but he’s a man–he’s not capable of caring for you.

“You said you called Jihyo?” you speak, ignoring his fake apology. 

He removes his hand from his face and nods. “Yeah, she should be here in an hour or so, I think.”

“Okay, say you actually did, why would you? She’d bring unwanted attention and risk unnecessary suspicion. Or maybe you’re just trying to kill two birds with one stone, literally?”

Jeongguk’s face remains soft even as you’re practically insulting him.

“I called her to pick you up because you trust her, and this is no place for you to be right now.”

“But you’re risking the mission. We’ve got a breakthrough but it isn’t all the way through yet, and the bugs still have almost a week’s worth of battery life left. The last thing you want is for them to become suspicious and search for the bugs.”

You don’t know why you’re so intent on letting him know just how thoroughly you see through him. Perhaps you’re simply so used to always having to prove yourself, your capacity and intelligence around men that you can’t let him think you’re nothing more than a dumb girl. You saw through everything, and he needs to know that. 

“You think I give a fuck about the mission when I literally just saw you throw up because you’re so scared of me? I’ve handcuffed myself to the bed, but you’re still shaking in the corner, looking terrified.”

At his words, you realize he’s right. You didn’t even notice the return of the tremors, and they’re not because you’re cold underneath the duvet. Thunder sounds again.

“I promise you,” he starts, looking into your eyes with what looks like a determined sort of kindness, “I’ll do my very best to make things right.”

You wouldn’t have known what to say even if you weren’t interrupted by the sound of a car. Worried but still relieved to finally see Jihyo, you carefully sit up, and then you stand, feeling weak but almost… hopeful. Maybe you’ll get out alive, after all?

But that hope is soon replaced by an ice cold chill running down your spine and filling your stomach as you peer out through the window and onto the cars that have stopped below. It’s not Jihyo. 

You take a step back from the window right as at least two men are exiting the cars, one holding an aluminum baseball bat.

“You… you called… your friends,” you state quietly, feeling dumb for not foreseeing it. He was stalling, and you fell for it. “You’ll be taking turns until I…”

Jeongguk says something, a few rushed sentences, but you’re already exiting the room, not entirely sure why or what your plan is. The sound of his handcuffs rustling against the bed frame sounds as you’re descending the stairs onto the dark bottom floor. 

Should you try to find a way out? Is there one? Jeongguk is stuck upstairs, but you stand no chance against even one man in your current state. Not to mention that you’re unarmed. Where’d Jeongguk’s knife go? Your razor blade? Last you remember, you had it before you passed out. 

You’re so in your thoughts that you don’t hear the footsteps closing in on you from behind. 

“I confronted them, and I guess they’re mad. We’ll go out back, okay?” a familiar voice speaks quietly right above your ear, making you jump. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, just come with me.”

You turn around, meeting Jeongguk’s eyes. He holds his hand out, no trace of the cuffs. How did he get free?

“I saw them from the window, and there’s four of them. They’re surely armed with more than just the baseball bat, but we might manage to sneak out through the back if we hurry.”

You look at his hand in the darkness.

“Trust me,” he encourages gently, “I’ve got you.”

For some odd reason, you meet his honest-looking but also worried and stressed eyes. And you put your hand in his. It’s warm, and he starts to pull you with him towards the back door.

However, stopping you in your tracks, one of the kitchen windows has been left open, and hushed voices sound through the crack.

“Absolutely no shots, okay? In and out, basically.”

Well, you guess that’s a good thing? You and Jeongguk exchange glances, and he mumbles something about his own gun being in the car. You’re just about to continue when the front door is unlocked. They have a key? Fuck, they must’ve gone to the station in search of the address and key before coming here.

The door glides open, and in steps Hoseong. And then Ryung with Seunghwan in tow. The last person inside is Junseo.

Hoseong stops when he spots you, a smile breaking out on his lips. “Well…”

“Leave,” Jeongguk orders, pulling you behind his body. A thousand thoughts are swirling around in your head, but you’re none the wiser. Any minute now, Jeongguk could start laughing at how you thought he’d protect you. Or, he could be genuine, but what sucks about that scenario is that there’s no way Jeongguk could take them all. Four against one.

“We can’t. Look, I thought we got each other, Jeongguk? Bros before hoes and all that? Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems like you might be causing us some trouble?”

Peeking from behind Jeongguk, you’re really not a fan of how Hoseong twists the bat in his hand, and your heart is freaking out.

“Technically, you caused the trouble all by yourself,” Jeongguk argues, visibly furious.

Then, before you know it, Hoseong lunges, and Jeongguk pushes you back, out of the way before he’s dodging too. Your heart is in your throat as you watch Hoseong swing at Jeongguk multiple times, Jeongguk dodging all of them before finding an opening and delivering a swift blow to Hosoeng’s head. Behind them, you spot Ryung’s dark eyes locking onto you, and you gulp.

All while Jeongguk somehow manages to grab the bat–which is good considering he’s fighting both Hoseong and Seonghwan–Ryung waits for his opening. Junseo, you don’t even know where he went.

Ryung’s chance comes when Jeongguk aims a powerful kick at Hoseong’s side, sending him flying into the kitchen table and knocking two of the chairs over and Jeongguk to the floor. Hoseong wheezes, like he got the wind knocked out of him.

Ryung decides to take the opportunity, setting off for you, but before he can reach you, he’s intercepted, Jeongguk’s wide shoulders knocking him off his path and into the fridge. While he gets back up, Jeongguk bashes Seunghwan’s head against the countertop once, and he falls down, groaning in pain. Jeongguk is about to follow, but Ryung grabs his shoulders, and manages to get Jeongguk on the ground and climb on top of him. 

You watch as Jeongguk swings the bat, Ryung catching it, but as his hands are preoccupied with it, Jeongguk uses all his strength and connects his fist with Ryung’s face so hard that you hear things crack and see blood spurt. As a result, Ryung falls off and to the floor, lying on his side. 

It’s at that moment you spot Junseo. He’s at Hoseong’s side–Hoseong who’s just gotten up–and is giving him something. Hoseong’s sinister and angry eyes find yours as he accepts the samurai sword.

Then, he’s running. 

It doesn’t take more than a split second for you to decide. You shut your eyes, preparing for the pain and the force that will surely knock you over. The force comes first, but there’s no pain, at least not for a while. It’s like Hoseong is… hugging you?

Surprised, you open your eyes, only to see that the person holding you in their arms is not Hoseong. It’s Jeongguk. Then, you become aware of the pain, a sort of… uncomfortable pin prick to your chest, only bigger? 

You look down between your bodies. There’s a hole in your t-shirt and you’re pretty sure the wetness on your skin is blood. What happened? 

Jeongguk coughs above you, and that’s when you see that the tip of the sword that’s digging into your skin is coming out of his chest. 

Even in your shocked state, you recognize the shape of the item he’s shakily stuffing into your hand. The car key.

“You need to…” he starts, his voice strained. He stumbles, and you see blood coloring his bottom lip. “...Get out of here.”

Suddenly, he groans loudly, and you feel the sword scratch your skin before Jeongguk is sinking to his knees. Behind him, Hoseong is twisting the handle roughly. Then, he lets go, letting Jeongguk’s body fall limply to the floor.

“See what you made me do?” Hoseong hisses at you, stepping over Jeongguk.

He’s caught off guard when you kick him, aiming your foot for the exact spot in which you shot him two years ago. He stumbles, his knee hitting the floor, but then he surprises you by grabbing your foot, and you fall, hitting your head against the floor. You groan in pain, lying flat on your back and seeing Hoseong stand up above you.

But before he can end you, there are gunshots. 

You’re not looking, but you hear Hoseong shout in pain, then a lot of shuffling and two other male voices you can’t quite place. 

All that you’re seeing is Jeongguk. He lies beside you, on his stomach, the long samurai sword he hung on that wall himself sticking out from his back. There’s blood, a lot of it. Some from his mouth and more from his chest and his back. You don’t need to examine him more to know that he’s already dead, that sword went straight through his heart with no chance of missing it, and there’s no surviving that. 

A face comes into view above you, and it takes your pounding head a good second to recognize it. Yoongi.

He meets your teary yet defeated eyes, and you open your mouth. “He’s dead.”

It’s both a question and a quiet statement, the side of your hand touching the side of Jeongguk’s. His eyes are closed, his face blank and void of any life, and you feel empty inside.

Through blurry tears, you see Yoongi look Jeongguk over. Then, gently and with a sad crease between his eyebrows, he nods. Abandoning Jeongguk’s lifeless body, he instead focuses on you. He tries to keep you awake, but something wet and warm pools underneath your own head, and soon enough, you can’t keep your eyes open any longer.

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hey pals... let me know what you think RIP <3

OMYGODDDDD IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS!!

I Want You to Stay (Series Masterlist) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Series Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Word count: TBD

Status: Coming soon!

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You've dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Inspiration: Stay by Mikky Ekko

A/N: Hiii I am BAAACK! 🫡 This story is finally seeing the light of day after 3 years. I feel a little rusty, especially this being my first new JK series in 1.5 years! But it's also been a bit rough getting back into writing (and in Tumblr) after so long and after the year that was, so there won't be a schedule for chapter releases and I'll probably be a lot slower than usual. I wasn't sure if I was gonna go back to writing but I realized that I've missed interacting with you guys and screaming about stories so I do hope you give this some love. Fair warning that it's a really slow burn and some scenes are reminiscent of k-dramas. There are also sensitive and triggering topics so please proceed with caution!

And lastly, my biggest love and deepest gratitude to @wonwoonlight who's been the sweetest and loveliest person to talk to about everything, including this story. 🫶🏼 I give her credit for her amazing photos of Seoul (check moodboard) and for being the playlist manager. Please send her love as well!💕

Season 1 -> Playlist 🎶: on the way home

Episode 1

Episode 2

Episode 3

Episode 4

Episode 5

Episode 6

Episode 7

Episode 8

Episode 9

Episode 10

Episode 11

Episode 12

Season 2 (??)