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oddinary4bts · 2 months

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To Give a Helping Hand | jjk (ch 2)

☆summary: when Jungkook finally approaches you at the gym, he realizes you've been wanting him just as badly as he's been wanting you.

☆pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: smut, idol!au

☆warnings: unedited, curses, explicit content: mentions of hard drugs (in a metaphor, no character does hard drugs), jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), fantasies about female oral sex (face riding), ball fondling, a tiny bit of marking, exhibitionism (they are in a car?), deep throating ish?, mouth fucking

☆word count: 3.1k

☆a/n: pure unedited sins again bc you guys asked for it and I am far too horny for mr jeon jungkook (thank you, calvin klein). I also wrote this when I was severely depressed and in need of a distraction so my bad if it sucks haha

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Jungkook watches himself in the mirror. His hair clings to the sweat on his forehead as he curls his arms, the strain enough to make him wince. Yet he pushes through, finishes the motion and then goes for another one.

He always trains until failure. Because it’s the best way to grow muscle, yes, but also because he likes the pain of it. Likes the burn, likes to put his body through the worst.

He knows he can take it.

It helps that you’re just a few benches away, doing some Bulgarian split squats. Twenty-five-pound dumbbells in each hand, you’ve been going for twelve reps each time, your focus unfaltering as you stare at a spot on the floor in front of you.

Jungkook wishes you’d look at him.

His next bicep curl ends on failure, and he winces as he lets go of the weights, putting them down on each side of the bench. He grabs his water bottle, taking a long swig of it as he looks at your reflection in the mirror.

You’ve got perfect form, your strong thighs pushing up on what he thinks is your fifth – sixth? – rep on your right leg. Your muscles shift under your skin as you move, and Jungkook forces himself to look away.

He doesn’t want to end up with a boner like he did last time. He’s been ashamed of himself somehow, and he doesn’t want to repeat it.

But it’s like you’re keen on teasing him. On being a walking nightmare, with those same devilish biker shorts that fried his brain that time. He’d told himself that he’d approach you, but so far he hasn’t been successful.

Indeed, you’ve suddenly decided to start coming to the gym with a friend, and though your friend is cute, with dark skin that hints at a perfect skincare routine, Jungkook doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you.

But yes, you’re keen on teasing him, doing squats next to him after he’s moved to do shoulder press on the machine. Indeed, despite all the squat racks being empty in the gym right now, you choose the one right in front of Jungkook, and it’s a battle of will to refrain from looking at your ass each time you’re bending down.

So Jungkook looks up to the ceiling, pushes up, and he clenches his jaw at the strain in his shoulders. It’s a good burn, one he knows will leave him sore, but it’s also one that leaves him thirsty when he finishes his reps. Unfortunately, his water bottle is empty, so he walks to the water station, the music in his earbuds loud.

He’s almost done refilling his bottle when you come up behind him, with your own water bottle in hand. He feels your eyes on his profile and, heart suddenly racing, Jungkook meets your gaze.

You already have a small, knowing smile on your lips when his eyes find yours. Beautiful as ever with your high ponytail, Jungkook finds he gets lost in your gaze, unable to find the exit.

It comes to him when the water in his bottle overflows and he makes a mess on the floor. You chuckle and, despite his cheeks burning, Jungkook faces you fully.

“You come here often?” he asks over the sound of his earbuds, and he quickly takes one out.

If you’re surprised that he’s speaking to you, you don’t let it show. Instead, you raise your water bottle, motioning towards the water station. “Just a couple of times per workout.”

Jungkook feels like an idiot, yet he steps aside to let you fill up your bottle. He doesn’t walk away though, just watches you, and damn if you aren’t even more beautiful from so close.

It isn’t fucking fair.

“I’ve noticed we often come here at the same time,” Jungkook says, scrambling to find something to talk to you about.

You offer him a corner smile as you finish filling up your bottle, twisting the cap back on. “We do.”

He purses his lips, wondering if you can hear the thunder in his chest, and then he says, “I’m Jungkook.”

Your eyes twinkle with mischief, and he wants to curse himself because obviously you know who he is. But you surprise him, replying with your name and a polite bow of your head, and immediately mirrors the motion.

Then he says your name, and he has a feeling it’ll become his favourite word to moan whenever he comes. It’s inevitable – the lust he has for you is clouding his vision even now, as if the rest of the gym is fading out of focus. You don’t disappoint, holding his gaze, lips slightly parted as if you, too, are imagining what it’d be like to be together.

To tangle in bed together, up until the rest of the world cease to exist.

Is it stupid that Jungkook asks for your number next? He doesn’t think so. Especially not as you oblige, putting it into his phone. It feels like a victory – a huge one, one he knows he’ll celebrate in an entirely not appropriate way, yet he can’t stop himself from smiling to you.

It’s like you’ve given him strength to finish his workout grandly. Indeed, he maxes his PR on his next two exercises, and he leaves the gym with a comfortable soreness in his arms and shoulders, right after he’s taken a quick shower.

To his surprise, you’re standing outside, near the building in the dim light of dusk, eyes glued to your phone when he steps out of the gym.

“Need a lift?” he can’t help but ask.

You startle and he does feel bad, up until your features break into a smile that makes his heart race in his chest. “Just waiting for the bus,” you say.

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, surprised that you can afford this gym yet use public transport. He wonders, are you the kind of girl who cares about the environment to the point that you decided not to get a car? Something about the thought is adorable, and Jungkook toys with his lip piercings for a few seconds.

“I mean, I really don’t mind lifting you if you need to,” he repeats, hoping with everything in his soul that you’ll say yes.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you insist, scrunching up your nose cutely. “But thanks for offering.”

He takes a few steps towards you so that you don’t have to speak so loud anymore, desperately looking for something else to say. “Where’s your friend?” he asks, thinking he’s a genius for asking.

“Sera?” you answer, as if he has any clue what your friend is called. “Oh, her boyfriend picked her up earlier.”

“He didn’t offer to drive you?” Jungkook says, not bothering to hide the condescendence in his tone.

You wince. “I fear that’s too much to ask of Yeonseok.”

“Then I really must drive you home,” Jungkook insists, offering you the sweetest smile he can convey.

“And what, find out where I live before you’ve even taken me out on a date?”

It’s like the world stops turning, and all Jungkook can see is you, and that twinkle of mischief lighting your gaze.

“You want me to take you out on a date?” he asks, fully aware of that bright pink Kooky plushie swinging from your keychain right now.

“Who wouldn’t?” you tease.

He narrows his gaze, yet can’t help but play along with you.

He’s been going insane for this moment for weeks after all.

“Then let’s say this is our first date,” he says. “We can drive around and if you like it, I’ll drop you at home, if you don’t I’ll drop you somewhere else. Deal?”

You smile, genuine, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Deal.”

And that’s how Jungkook finds himself in his car with you seated next to him, your head bobbing along to the music on the radio. Though you’re quick to turn towards him, your gaze burning on his profile.

“How long have you wanted to talk to me?”

Jungkook chokes on his saliva, and he coughs as he glances at you, the tip of his ears reddening. “What?”

“You think I haven’t noticed you staring at me every time we work out at the same time?” you tease, and you laugh as he shrugs his shoulders.

“You’ve been putting on a show, it’s not my fault.”

“I have?”

He lets out a non-committal sound that makes you laugh, a crystalline laugh that sounds like he’ll get addicted to it far too easily. Like heroin – one hit and he’s a goner.

As you laugh, you rest your hand on his thigh, giving it a quick, playful squeeze.

Insane. He’s fucking insane for you.

“Listen,” you say after a tense silence with your hand on his thigh. “I really am not looking for a relationship right now.”

He hears the underlying truth – you wouldn’t date an idol. He doesn’t blame you.

It’s not like he plans on ever dating you anyway.

“But if you want some fun, then I’m all in.”

His throat feels dry, and Jungkook wets his lips, glancing at you quickly. The mischief has shifted into pure lust, something he wasn’t expecting he’d see right away.

Hell, he’d imagined he’d have to work for it. But you’re offering yourself on a silver platter, and he’d be fucking dumb to let the opportunity slip away.

“You aren’t what I expected,” he says.

No, you are ten times better.

You run your hand up and down his thigh, head tilted to the side as you look at him. It’s hard to focus on the street in front of him, especially as his dick already starts getting hard.

“I hope that’s a good thing,” you let out on a low, breathy tone that makes him truly lose touch with sanity.

“Have you ever seen the city from the mountains?” he asks seemingly out of the blue.

You pout, glancing towards those you can see in the distance. “On hikes, yeah I have. Why?”

“I know a spot.”

He doesn’t actually, but he ends up finding one anyway after you’ve driven around for a little while. Though you can’t see most of the city from here, it’s still beautiful, twinkling lights looking back at you down in the city.

You admire the view, and Jungkook gets lost admiring you. Your profile is delicate, your hair still just as fluffy and unruly around your head. He instinctively pushes a strand behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek as you meet his gaze.

The car fills with electricity, with an intensity that cannot be ignored, and Jungkook dives in, pressing his mouth on yours. You immediately kiss him back, your hand finding his thigh again, and Jungkook pushes his tongue in your mouth, lapping you up, making the kiss far too languid for his own good.

You let out a breathy sound that makes him see stars, and when your hand shifts closer to his dick, he feels all his blood rushing down. His own hand finds the back of your head, and he tilts his to the side to deepen the kiss, right as he softly grunts.

You’re a good kisser. All lips and tongue, and Jungkook wants to pull you on his lap, to keep on kissing you all night long, but it seems you’ve got other plans in mind. Indeed, you pull away from the kiss, leaving him breathing raggedly as he looks at you quizzically, but then you’re quickly pulling your hair back into a ponytail.

His heartrate skyrockets as he understands what will happen next. It’s like he’s stuck in one of his deepest, darkest fantasies, and you’re jumping right in with him.

You truly are devilish, aren’t you?

When your hair is safely tucked in a ponytail, you meet Jungkook’s gaze. Your eyes shine with undiluted lust, and it steals the breath from his lungs.

To be the receiver of such desire…

He’s going to come far too quickly, isn’t he?

You pat his thigh again, leaning in for another kiss. Jungkook immediately obliges, colliding his mouth with the softness of yours. You palm him through his pants the second he pushes his tongue between your lips again, and Jungkook grunts as he instinctively bucks his hips, seeking for more friction.

“You’re a little impatient,” you say as you pull away, and you glance down at where you’re touching him. “Maybe we should get you out of your pants.”

It doesn’t take more than that to convince Jungkook to push his pants down, and he’s soon sitting there, his dick out in his car as if someone can’t just pull up and see.

Yet the thought turns him on, and Jungkook is infinitely thankful that he took a quick shower at the gym when you grab the base of his dick, jerking him off once.

“You’re so big,” you breathe.

All he can do is grunt as you stroke him again, your grip firm. It feels even better than he imagined. Like heaven – your hand fits perfectly around him, and you expertly flick your wrist whenever you near the top.

All that’s missing is lube, but you’re quick to bend down, blowing a breath on the sensitive tip of his dick.

“Shit,” Jungkook lets out.

“You often get sucked in your car?” you ask like the brat you are.

He can’t reply. Not when you wrap your lips around his tip, and he thinks he’s floating out of his body. Your mouth is wet, warm and so, so soft around him he thinks he might just come already.

“No,” he chokes out as you swirl your tongue around him before pushing down on him, up until he hits the back of your throat.

It takes everything in Jungkook not to buck his hips and fuck your mouth. But he wants to be nice, wants to play nice, if only so that he won’t scare you.

He doesn’t want to lose you before he’s even had you.

He reclines his seat, allowing you a better access, and you reward him with a small moan as you can take more of him in, and it’s enough to make his mind spin with addictive bliss.

You pull away, a string of spit connecting your mouth to his dick. “Good boy.”

That’s it. He’s a goner. Especially when you truly get to work, offering him the perfect combination of sucking and tongue, of your hand jerking him off in time with the bobbing of your head. He keeps his moans low, more grunts than anything, but when you moan as he hits the back of your throat, Jungkook curses loudly.

“You like this?” you tease, blinking away tears from the gag reflex you’ve been holding in.

“Holy fuck,” he answers, and you laugh lightly before taking him in your mouth once more.

You’re drooling all over him, sucking his soul out of his body, and Jungkook feels his balls tightening.

Already.

“Wait,” he lets out, and you pull away, breathing heavily as you meet his gaze.

“Uh?”

He wipes the drool on your lips, and you immediately suck on his thumb, tongue teasing the pad of the finger. You’re going to fry his brain before the end of the night, aren’t you?

“If you keep sucking me like this I’ll come.”

You smirk, downright lustful. “Isn’t that the point?”

“I want to fuck you,” he says, and he hates that he sounds so pouty, but he can’t help it.

He wants to live every single one of his dirty fantasies with you, after all.

“And I want to know what your cum tastes like,” you counter, squeezing his dick hard.

Jungkook moans, his eyes fluttering shut, his defiance fully leaving him now. If you want him to come in your mouth, then he’ll happily oblige. And then you’re bending down, going back to work as he murmurs your name.

You’re better than he imagined, so much better, and his dick twitches in your mouth as you moan. He feels the vibrations all along his shaft, and he grabs your ponytail, increasing your rhythm. Pushing your head down on him so that you take more of him, and when you don’t complain, instead moaning again, Jungkook stops holding himself back.

He fucks up in your mouth, and your hand flies to his thigh, your nails digging in his skin. The slight pain sets his nerves alight with desire, and he loses himself in you, in the rocking of his hips as he snaps them up in your mouth.

You take him in, holding the gag reflex in, moaning as he establishes a quick rhythm to chase his orgasm. He thinks he’s in love with your mouth – you’re so good, too good to him. He highly doubts he deserves it.

Not when he hasn’t given you anything in return. And he wants to taste you, wants you to sit on his face until he can’t breathe anymore and he gets drunk to the taste of you. It’s that image that brings him closer to his high, so close he already buzzes with it.

You push him over the edge when you grab his balls, gently squeezing. He moans out your name as he comes, unloading his cum deep in your throat as you take over, bobbing your head up and down slowly to milk his orgasm.

And you do milk his orgasm. You fucking do – he’s truly, fully swimming in bliss by the time his dick stops twitching, his balls fully emptied.

You pull away from him, and he thinks he loves your mouth even more when you push your tongue out to show that you swallowed everything. It’s so hot he’d fool himself into going for another round, but the hour is getting late, and he’s got an early morning tomorrow.

“Holy shit,” he lets out.

You laugh, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “That felt good?”

“Fuck, yeah it did.”

You smirk, tilting your head to the side. “Happy to oblige.”

“I’ll have to repay the favour to you one of these days,” Jungkook says, and he hopes you don’t hear the underlying hope in his tone.

He doesn’t want you to think he’s been dreaming about you, about your body for so long.

You wet your lips. “Your place this weekend?”

And though maybe he should say no, as you’re the fan and he the idol, Jungkook answers with, “Bring a bottle of wine.”

☆☆☆☆☆

Yeah this is pure sin. Porn with practically no plot hahah did we like it? Let me know what you thought!

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook #to give a helping hand ch 2 #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fic #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fic #btswritersclub

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oddinary4bts · 8 months

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When the End Comes | ch 1 (jjk)

☆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?

☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in every chapter)

☆genre: breakup!au, slice of life!au, angst with a big A, smut

☆warnings: angst, like. Just angst. Curse words, Jungkook's car, mentions of Jungkook's accident, mention of reader getting kicked out in TFS, explicit content: breast/nipple play, hickey, oral sex (female and male receiving), fingering, hair pulling, jerking off, squirting, praise, pain kink (Jungkook), balls squeezing (lmao), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

☆word count: 9.4k

☆series masterpost

☆a/n: First chapter is here and it's time to CRY (I apologize in advance for the therapy bills) :') Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this, you are the best <3 and thank you to @jessikahathaway for supporting me with this project, you are amazinnng

☆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

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Wednesday, April 19th

The setting sun turns the living room into liquid gold, bathing you in golden warmth that traces your features delicately from where you sit on the couch. Spring is upon you – outside, you can hear birds singing, and the gentle wind of spring carries the smell of melted snow, of wet soil and of early leaves.

You sigh. Your phone has been dead silent all day, as it’s been for weeks now, and the loneliness of it keeps the winter cold close. Always.

Jungkook said he would call. He often says it, often promises he wants to go to sleep with your voice at his ear, since he can’t sleep with you in his arms. Years ago, when he first started his job in Europe, he did, calling you every night when you got home from work and he went to sleep in a European city too far from you.

He usually leaves for a few months at a time. Never more than three, and he usually stays for a month after that before leaving again. He’s been photographing for museums all over Europe, and his latest job at the Louvres in Paris seems to have been keeping him more occupied than the others.

You’d think it’d make sense – the Louvres is the Louvres. But you miss Jungkook. Miss the early years of your relationship, when you spent almost every day together. When he moved in with you in your first apartment, the one he had found for you while you weren’t even dating yet.

A deep ache has settled inside of you this time around. Because, even if he says he’ll try, even if he promised it wouldn’t be like the last time he was away, this time is worse. Far worse. You’ve only spoken to him on the phone once since he left half a month ago, and he texts you sparingly throughout the week.

You never thought there would come a day when your relationship with Jungkook wouldn’t be what it was at the beginning. Hell, the honeymoon phase lasted for almost three years, and then you had another year before he started working overseas. The first months he had spent away had rekindled the flame, passion and desire burning through you the moment you laid your eyes on him again the day he had come back.

But distance is difficult. Distance can tame even the wildest flame, and you’re starting to believe it has tamed the flame between you and Jungkook. You hate it – every night for a week you’ve fallen asleep with a heart so heavy it felt as if you weren’t going to wake up. And every day you’ve woken up feeling even worse, and you don’t know what’s going to help anymore.

You turn your head, catching sight of the frames on the shelves by the window. They too bathe in setting sunlight, shining like the glass is made of gold. From where you’re sitting, you can’t really see the pictures, but you know them by heart.

There are the pictures from his first photo exhibit, when you were still in college. Pictures of you, of him falling in love with you and you falling in love with him. Then there are pictures of that first Christmas, and of the first time you celebrated your birthday with him. Pictures of you, of him holding you, and of his hand in yours. Pictures from when Jiho gave birth to her first child Lisa, and then a picture with you two on a camping trip with Lisa and her younger brother Charles. That trip happened two summers ago, replacing your usual annual visit to a cabin in the woods, the year after the dance crew retired. Because as much as you and your friends loved that cabin in the woods, loved the dance crew, you eventually grew out of it.

There are pictures from Heather and Bridget’s wedding last fall, pictures of your story with Jungkook as it unfolded through the years.

No new pictures have been added since that last picture in the fall, because nothing worth taking pictures of happened since then. Jungkook has been gone most of the time, and when he’s here he’s too tired to do anything, preferring staying in and cuddling on the couch as you watch hours of Netflix without ever speaking.

You see the doom. It’s been coming for you, tightening around you like a scourge. Nothing you’ve been trying to do has helped – not even the nice lingerie pictures you sent him two nights ago. Not even the letter you wrote for him, though he did have flowers delivered to you at the firm.

Your coworker Harrison made fun of you for the flowers, teasing you like he’s taken to teasing you whenever something related to Jungkook happens. Which, as much as you hate admitting, is not much anymore.

Sometimes, when he’s away, you think he’s a ghost in your life. You wish you could turn back time and go back to the night where it all started between you. The July night of years ago, or perhaps the night of the hotel roof in Chicago. You struggle to pinpoint where you’d go back, but you do believe that anything would be better than the now.

You blink away the blurriness in your eyes, taking a deep breath to steady the aching beats of your heart. You glance at your phone – your empty notification screen stares back at you, a reminder that for all he says, he’s stopped trying this time around.

You figure you could call him. Could make the effort, but you’re tired. Tired of trying when it seems like it doesn’t work anymore. And so your aching heart keeps beating in your chest, and you put your phone away to cook dinner when it’s become clear that he won’t call.

And when you go to bed, after having taken the dog out one last time, your phone still lies empty, the picture of you and him that you have as a background taunting you, haunting you until troubled sleep finds you in its hold.

Friday, May 5th

Jungkook hates himself. Hates how every time he says he’ll call you, he ends up falling asleep. He doesn’t know why; it’s like his heart fights against his body. But tonight, he’s determined to call. He’s been meaning to show you the lights of the Eiffel tower, when the clock strikes midnight, and he promised he will tonight.

You haven’t replied to his text. He’s been feeling you slipping through his fingers for a few weeks. You barely reply when he talks to you anymore, sending one-worded answers most of the time. Maybe that is the reason why he’s been struggling to call – there’s an impending doom lingering around your relationship, and he wants to avoid it for as long as he can.

He’s been replaying your fight earlier last week on repeat since it happened. You, screaming that he said he was going to change, was going to try to call more and make more effort before he went to Paris. Him, telling you that you should be understanding, that he’s doing his best and that most nights he goes to bed before you’ve even finished work. You’d told him sometimes you wished you could hate him, as it’d be easier than loving him from afar. The words struck harder than a physical blow could have, and since then the doom has been clearer in the distance, as if it’s getting closer.

Just thinking about it hurts too much. He can’t wait for his contract with the Louvres to be done. Can’t wait to be home, and to tell you in person just how much he loves you.

He thinks his love has just been growing stronger. Through all the years, it’s just been growing inside of him, making him into a better person with every beat of his heart. The thought brings a smile to his lips, strangely enough, even though there’s still pain in his heart.

He still remembers when you first got Bam. He thinks that day is the one that made his love grow the most, until he thought his heart was going to burst in his chest. It fortunately never did, and he looks at his phone’s background quickly, needing to see you.

There you are, in all your glory. Hair a mess as you hold a tiny puppy in your arm, with your eyes sparkling like they’re holding the light of the universe. Of his universe, and it hasn’t changed. Still, today he knows if he were to see you, you still would hold the light of his universe.

After all, it started a July night seven years ago, and it’s never going to go away.

Thirteen days until he’s going to be home. And he decided to take a longer break this time around – he doesn’t have another contract yet. He’s been approached by the Victoria and Albert museum in London, but he’s told them that he likely won’t be able to go until late October.

They said they’ll be happy to have him whenever his schedule allows.

He’s yet to tell you – it’s a surprise, and he reckons your relationship terribly needs it. And he’s excited, as it means months that he’ll get to spend with you.

He’s going to take some small photography jobs back home until then, and spend the rest of his time with you, whenever you’re not at the firm. He reckons he can always meet you there for lunch – he used to do that when you first got the job at the firm where your father used to work.

Jungkook sighs, and he glances at the time on his phone. It’s almost time to call, and he’s proud he’s been able to stay up, sitting on the balcony of his Airbnb, watching the Eiffel tower in the distance.

The Louvres is paying for the Airbnb, and they really chose one of the best in the city. The view of the tower is beautiful, night and day, the architecture of it satisfying in ways he can barely comprehend. He took pictures of it through the different weathers, and he’s excited to show you when he’ll be back.

Five minutes before the clock strikes midnight, Jungkook lets out a long yawn as he goes to your profile, hitting the Facetime button. He’s told you he would call, up to the very minute, and he doesn’t want to disappoint this time around.

He watches his face on the screen as it rings. It rings and rings, and yet you don’t pick up. Something unsettling grows in his gut, and he pulls at his lip piercing in worry as he calls again when the call claims it failed to connect.

He tries four times more, until the Eiffel tower is sparkling in the distance, and your form still has yet to appear. So he looks up, watches the show and then heads to bed, each of his step feeling heavier than the last.

The next morning, he wakes up to some texts of yours.

[04:21 am] bby <3: sorry, i was out for dinner with friends from work [04:22 am] bby <3: I assume u’re asleep now? [04:41 am] bby <3: good night

For some reason, he can’t bring himself to reply.

Thursday, May 18th

It’s been raining all week. The world, crying as if it’s coming to an end. It’s unsettling, and you miss the sunrays. Miss the warmth that they carry, because now the world seems void of any.

You’re not looking forward to going home. It’s the first time that the thought of seeing Jungkook is scaring you – you have a feeling the distance between you is more than just physical, and you’re afraid to see him.

Afraid to be faced with the fact that everything changed irreparably.

You’ve slept in his clothes every night of May. It hasn’t made you feel closer to him, has only made you feel like he’s drifting further away, like a piece of wood lost at sea, pulled away by the current. And as much as you long for his return, you fear he’s crossed a threshold now.

You fear you’re not into it anymore.

The thought has made you cry countless times. You never thought you’d get to a moment in life when splitting with Jungkook seemed to be an option. You thought you were made of forever, of an eternity built just for you. You thought he’d always be enough for you, and that you’d always be enough for him too. But when Taehyung and Jo got engaged and said that they’d marry the first weekend of September, you realized that you want that for yourself too.

You want to start growing with your partner, you want them to be around. And Jungkook just isn’t.

You’ve spoken to Jiho about it. A haunting conversation, that you’ve been replaying in your mind constantly since it happened a week and a half ago.

She came over, only to find you cradling the picture of the July night sky, the one Jungkook had given you after his exposition. She sat next to you, tired eyes surveying your profile. When you started crying, she pulled you in a hug, and held you against her chest as you sobbed.

When you calmed down, she ran a soothing hand on your back. She waited for you to patiently find your words, and when you had, they spilled from your mouth, with no dam to stop them anymore.

“I think I’m going to break up with him,” you told her. It had you chasing more tears away, hating the weakness of your heart as it broke in your chest. “I can’t do the distance anymore. I want something like you and Hobi have, like Jo and Taehyung have. I want someone to wake up to every day and… I don’t… I don’t think loving him is enough anymore.”

She offered you a sad smile, her features sober as she nodded once. “Will you regret it?”

A lone tear spilled on your cheek, holding all the answers she needed. You let it roll down your cheek, let it fall in your lap. Jiho nodded once again, understanding, and added, “I’ll be there for you.”

Your decision was made that day. You don’t think you’ll change your mind, but you’re afraid to see him. Afraid to be faced with the reality of it.

The worst part is, you think you already started getting adjusted to living without him. Hell, the distance has been a good training, so you think you’ll be okay after. It’s just the during that scares you, because you know that when he breaks, you break too.

You know how much you broke for him once. You know you’ll break again, know the first days are going to be hell, but you know that in the long term, it’s the right decision.

At least you hope so.

Jungkook texted you that he got home in the middle of the afternoon, and that he was going to take a nap. He said he couldn’t wait to see you, and you’ve had to swallow countless lumps in your throat whenever you’ve thought of the words.

You take a deep steadying breath as your shift ends, leaving you with no choice but to head home. Harrison notices your fallen features, and he offers you a kind smile.

“It’s going to be okay,” he promises.

You want to tell him he’s a liar, but all you do is offer him a tight-lipped smile in return.

*****

The apartment in soundless when you finally reach home. Outside, the wind plays in the leaves, splashing water against the windows. It makes for a relaxing sound, yet it does nothing to relax you.

You take off your shoes by the door and drop your purse on the small table just a few steps in as Bam comes to greet you. You pet the dog mindlessly, scanning your surroundings to see if Jungkook is coming too, but it seems he fell asleep. You stop by the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water as you survey the world outside the window, hoping it holds any kind of solace. It doesn’t – the world is crying, and you think by the end of the night there’s a high chance you will be crying too.

You sigh, try to swallow around the lump in your throat but it doesn’t work. You choke on a sip of water, and startle when Jungkook asks if you’re okay.

You didn’t hear him sneaking up on you.

You turn around, the sense of impending doom growing tenfold at the thought that he’s going to be right there, in the flesh, when you set your eyes on him. And he is – a sleepy Jungkook is standing in the door of the kitchen, leaning against the frame as he offers you a small, tired smile.

You’re not sure what to do at first, and when he opens up his arms for you you rush towards him, leaving the glass of water on the counter.

His embrace is familiar, warm. If he wasn’t gone for so long, you think it’d be enough to keep you here, forever. You both remain silent, and your heart beats achingly in your chest as you try to hold him closer, as if you can be one.

As if that’ll make him stay.

“Hey,” he says, voice choked with emotion.

You only hold him tighter, and tears burn behind your closed eyelids as you hide your face in his neck. He smells familiar, like home. He smells like the clothes you’ve been wearing in an attempt to gather the courage to break up with him.

You hate yourself deeply, then. You think about the years, and aren’t they enough? Isn’t the love enough?

He grabs your shoulders, delicately, to push you away. And then his hands move to your cheeks, and he’s tilting your head back to press his soft, pink lips against yours. It’s barely just a peck, and it hurts so much you think you’ll die.

“How was work?” he asks when he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours.

You breathe in slowly, and then out, your breath mingling with his in the space between you. “Long,” you answer, because it’s the truth.

“I’ll cook you dinner,” he says.

If he notices you holding your breath as your heart keeps on breaking, he doesn’t say. Instead, he pulls away, leaves you standing by the door as he moves in the room proper. You’re not sure you’ll survive a dinner with him, not when the inevitability of what you’re going to do is looming over you, like a sword of Damocles ready to cut the link between you and him.

“Okay,” you breathe out.

You sit at the table as he fishes ingredients out of the fridge – stuff you clearly didn’t buy. Which means he went grocery shopping, and you just ache so fiercely the air turns to poison in your lungs.

“Do you want to chop the vegetables?” he asks.

You gulp before nodding curtly. “Sure.”

You move closer to him as he puts said vegetables on the counter, and you grab a knife as he hands you a cutting board. It’s familiar, domestic, and it helps lessen the pain somehow. To have this moment, with him, even though your decision is made.

“You’re silent,” Jungkook comments as you finish dicing an onion.

You purse your lips, head hanging low as you reply, “I’m tired, sorry.”

He turns on the stove, placing a pan on top of it. As he’s putting oil in it, he glances at you. You barely notice from the corner of your eyes, but you still can tell he’s trying to figure how to reach you, in the dark place where your mind has gone.

“Something happened?”

No. Nothing happened. Nothing happened when it should have. Was distance really enough to kill your relationship with him?

Needing the conversation to move away from the current subject, you reply, “Not really.” Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you add, “How was Paris?”

“It sucked,” Jungkook is quick to answer. “It was a lot of work and I barely had time to explore the city.”

“Mmh,” you hum, nodding your head.

You freeze as he moves closer, taking the knife out of your hands. He forces you to turn towards him, and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I took some pictures of the Eiffel tower for you,” he admits. “It was pretty at night. Made me think of you.”

You shut your eyes tight, and for once you win against the tears that were threatening to spill. “You did?” you let out when your eyelids finally flutter open again. “You can show me over dinner.”

“I’d rather just spend time with you for now,” he says, softly, and you hate that his big, doe eyes feel like heaven. “I… I missed you.”

You think he knows. You both know what’s coming. But you want this last moment with him, so you say, “I missed you too. Way too much.”

“You’ve been sleeping in my clothes,” he teases, but it’s lacking the usual lilt to his voice that makes you roll your eyes playfully.

“Yeah.”

He pulls at his piercing, and you focus on that because his eyes are going to read every little treacherous thought in your head, and you don’t think you’d survive that.

He doesn’t say anything else before he busies himself with putting the onion you diced in the pan. You lean on the counter to watch him cook, handing him the ingredients that you know he’ll need.

You’ve cooked together a thousand times before, and never you would have thought that there’d be a last time. You clench your jaw against the pain, and though you don’t feel hungry, you sit at the kitchen table with him to eat.

You manage to get some food down. Jungkook is an amazing cook, and you’ve always loved his food. It’s something you know you’re likely to miss, when he won’t be around anymore.

Fuck.

After dinner, you do the dishes while Jungkook brings Bam outside, as he usually does when he’s here. He’s back before you’re done, and you focus on finishing to clean the dishes, trying to ignore him.

He’s been silent through the meal, and you’ve avoided the glances he’s sent your way. But when he grabs your wrist, gently, you meet his gaze.

His eyes shine. It takes you a few seconds to register that it’s because tears are welling up in his innocent gaze, and you wish you’d die right on the spot.

“Why is it awkward?” he asks.

You purse your lips and then bite the tip of your tongue, as if it’ll help. “Can we go to bed early?”

You don’t know why you asked that question. You convinced yourself to break up right away, but then again you think you need a last time.

You need a goodbye.

He nods, blinking the tears away. His hand moves until it’s wrapped around yours, and he pulls you to the bathroom. He turns on the shower, but before he’s taken his shirt off you step in front of him, fist closing around a handful of fabric so you can pull him close.

There’s urgency in the kiss, along with yearning. It’s quick, it’s heated and desperate. You wonder if he can taste the goodbye on your tongue – does it taste bitter for him too?

Though he seemed startled from the sudden kiss, he’s quick to kiss you back, to grab your waist and pull you closer, as if that’ll make you stay. And while you kiss your mind runs with the memories – the first time you’d kissed, in that hot tub. The kiss on the hotel roof, the kiss after he’d helped you move in your first apartment.

More than that, it’s a memory from four years ago that resurfaces the most. It takes the centerpiece of the stage of your mind, and you find yourself back in your old apartment, the first one you’d ever had. The day wasn’t a special one – just a random Sunday, one Jungkook convinced you to spend in bed. He’d held you all morning, littering small kisses on the top of your head. At some point, you’d made love, slowly, lazily, as if you had all the time in the world. Halfway through it, Jungkook had stopped, resting his forehead on yours. Against your lips, he’d whispered, “Will you still love me when I’m old and grey and grumpy?”

Back then you’d laughed, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. After, you’d replied, “You know I’ll never stop loving you.”

And as you’re kissing him right now, you hope he knows that you’ll never stop loving him.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, seeking to deepen the kiss, and you let him in. Taste the dinner in his mouth, like he’s sure to taste it in yours too. It eases the bitterness somehow, and when his large hands move to your ass, you let out a breathy sound.

He swallows it as if it’s the ambrosia of the gods, and then he pushes you back towards the counter next to the sink. The shower runs in the background as he pulls you on the counter, large hands guiding you. You instinctively spread your thighs to allow him to step closer, and then you wrap your legs around him. His hands find your cheeks again, and he kisses you fervently, hungrily, yet his touch remains gentle on your cheeks, thumbs swiping back and forth.

When oxygen becomes needed, both for you and him, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You think we can wait after the shower?” he teases, and this time it has a little bit of the usual bite.

It only hurts, because now you’re not so sure he’s aware of what’s to come. He probably only thought that it was awkward because of the distance – physical. Not because the end is coming. So you let him believe it, agree to take a shower.

You let him wash your hair, a thing he’s taken to doing six years ago whenever you take a shower together. Something about him liking the scent of your shampoo. After that, you let him wash your back, but you can’t bring yourself to do it for him. To your relief, he admits he took a shower before he napped, to wash away the airplane vibes off him. So it mostly goes unnoticed, and then you’re getting out of the shower. You barely have time to dry yourself before he’s pulling you to your room, to your shared bed.

To the bed where you’ve cried yourself to sleep every night since you’ve made your decision.

He sits you on the bed, thumbs swiping on your cheeks gently when he bends down to peck your lips once.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

You watch him leave, thinking you should find it funny that he’s butt-naked, as you are. Yet you don’t laugh, just put a hand over your aching heart as you wait for him to come back. It hurts even more when he comes back with your heating pad, a tentative smile on his lips.

“I thought this might help,” he says as he walks over to you, offering it to you.

You look at it, not knowing what to do. “Why?”

“Aren’t you…” he trails off, motioning towards you. “I don’t know, you’ve been weird. Thought you might be on your period, or having cramps?”

He’s too sweet. Too caring. Why can’t he be like this when he’s away too?

“Oh,” you let out. “I’m not.”

He looks puzzled, and his eyes drop to the heating pad in his hands. “Oh. Do you…” He gestures with the heating pad, but you shake your head no. He looks disappointed, and he puts it on the dresser before coming to sit next to you.

There’s a moment of silence, and you glance at the TV on the wall. The black screen reflects the grey light from the rainy world outside, and you turn to look out the window next. The rain is still relentless, and the trees outside look greener, darker, though that might be because the sun set behind the clouds, and night is slowly taking over the world.

Being with Jungkook has never been awkward before, and you hate that it is right now. You’d wish for one last moment, for a memory to treasure, but now you think you might have just been selfish.

He glances at you, pulling at his piercing. “Did something happen with your mother?”

He’s trying. So hard. Doesn’t he feel the distance between you and him?

“No,” you reply.

As a matter of fact, you only talk to your mother three times a year now. Without fault, she calls on Christmas and your birthday, and five years ago you’ve started calling on hers too. Other than that, you barely even text.

“Then…” he trails off before shrugging. “Whatever. Do you want to sleep or should we watch something?”

“Can we watch a studio Ghibli movie?”

Jungkook glances at the Totoro plushie, nestled in the pillows at the head of the bed right next to Appa. “My neighbor Totoro?” You nod once. He offers you a smile, nodding his head too. “Sure. As long as I get to hold you.”

You worry at your lip, though you still say, “Yes.”

A minute later you’re nestled in his embrace, and he’s starting the movie on the TV. You barely can focus though, mind zeroing in on his naked skin against yours. You want to ask him to stop with his overseas job, to come home permanently, to build a future with you here, without distance between you and him. You want to tell him you love him so much it hurts, want to tell him the months away from him are killing you.

All you do is watch the movie as if in a daze, and halfway through it, you tilt your head to look up at him. He sees you looking, and his tongue darts to his piercing as he glances down.

Your eyes go to his lips, and you reach to steal a kiss on them. This time, it’s incredibly slow, painfully so, and his arm tightens around you as his breath gets caught up in his throat.

You rest a hand on his cheek, before sliding it to the nape of his neck to keep him as close as you possibly can. He turns his head to deepen the kiss, and you turn the other way as you push your tongue in his mouth. You gently tug at the hair on the back of his neck, appreciating its silky softness.

Committing it to memory. Remembering when it was so long he could tie it back in a small ponytail, remembering when he cut it shorter for the first time. You’d teased him saying that he was a stranger, and you reckon you’d take that stranger back again.

You’d take the sweet innocence of the third year of your relationship again over what it now is.

Once, you thought you’d always want to see the end. To be able to glance back on the past, to swim in the nostalgia of the memories that it holds. Today, as the end comes, you realize you were wrong.

There’s no beauty in the ending.

Jungkook moves until he’s hovering over you, between your legs. You wrap them around his dainty waist, and you pull him inevitably closer as your hands run in his hair, while his hold him up on each side of your face. It takes him a few seconds, but soon he leans on his elbow, and one of his hands lands on the top of your head while the other moves to cup your breast.

He squeezes gently, fingers expertly pinching your nipple the way he knows that you like it. You moan softly, desperately, and he does it harder as his tongue meets yours.

“Fuck, I missed you so much,” he says as he pulls away, and then he’s littering hot kisses on your jaw, and on your neck. He sucks a hickey on the spot that connects your shoulder to your neck, and then laps at it to ease the sting. He’s still pinching your nipple, and though it hurts you just want more.

He doesn’t disappoint. His kisses move lower, until he’s sucking on your other breast, tongue circling your nipple as it hardens in his mouth. He flicks it once, make sure it’s perched nicely on your chest before he moves to the other one, repeating the action.

Your core heats up with need, but even this demonstration of the passion between you and him doesn’t do anything against the ache of your heart. The pain wins, and you shut your eyes tightly in an attempt to focus on the sensations. To focus on him as he moves lower, slowly, pressing wet kisses on your stomach, down to your pelvis, and then on the inside of your thigh as he pushes your leg on his shoulder.

“I want you,” he murmurs between your legs, as if he’s speaking the words directly to your pussy.

“I want you too.”

That much isn’t a lie. You do want him, all of him, even though you’re aware it’s going to be the last time. So you try to disconnect mind and body, and the moment he sucks on your clit you think you succeed.

You lose your hand in the strands of his hair, tugging as his tongue starts a hellish rhythm on your clit, never once faltering as you squirm under the ministrations. When your juice is coating his chin – which you reckon doesn’t take long – he moves lower, dipping his tongue inside of you.

“So sweet,” he praises once he pulls away, just enough for you to feel his lips moving as he speaks.

“Kook…”

The nickname barely crosses the threshold of your lips, yet the grip he has on your waist, where his hands have found a home, tightens. The only indication that somewhere behind his lustful gaze, Jungkook is aching too.

“Baby…” he says back, and then he returns to press figure-eight on your clit, though this time he pushes a finger inside of you.

It curls to hit the right spot inside of you, and he slowly rubs against it, before he decides better and starts to finger you, slowly. Digit moving in and out, keeping that right arch to make you see stars in no time.

When he adds a second finger, you tug on his hair, hard. Mostly by reflex, but when he meets your gaze as you look down at him, you pull harder. His fingers remain deep inside of you as he meets your lips for a heated kiss that tastes like you, and your hand blindly aims for his dick.

He’s rock hard, as he always is when you fuck for the first time after he’s been away. You sigh in satisfaction, thumb collecting precum on his tip that you spread on his dick. Instinctively, he bucks his hips as you start jerking him off, with the tight grip you know he likes, and you make sure to flick your wrist when you go back up.

He grunts against your lips, and his fingers start to move inside of you again. You don’t know when they stopped, but you know that he’s grown impatient now, and he’s unforgiving. When he pushes his thumb against your clit so that he can rub it at the same time, you moan unashamedly loud, another sound that he swallows like a man starved while his lips move against yours.

You time your ministration on his dick to those of his fingers on you, and soon enough a knot forms at the pit of your stomach. It grows impossibly tight impossibly quickly, and when Jungkook moans in your mouth you lose it, the knot uncoiling as your orgasm finds you.

He fucks you with his fingers through the high, through every wave of your orgasm, your legs shaking as he keeps going until you squirt.

“Good girl,” he praises as you cry out his name, your grip on his dick growing tighter. It has to hurt, but obviously Jungkook likes pain, so he only bucks his hips, seeking for friction.

It brings you back to the present, to this bed, and you return to jerking him off as his fingers leave you empty. He brings them to your mouth, makes you lick them clean until he’s satisfied and pulls them away. He kisses you, languidly, and your tongue dance with his as he grunts from a particularly skilled flick of your wrist.

“I want to suck you,” you say in between kisses, and he doesn’t let you do it for a time.

He’s too focused on your mouth, and you reckon you want him to keep going at it. To trap you in this moment with him, so that it may never end.

So that you may never have to break up with him.

“Can I fuck you first?” he asks, bucking his hips once more. “I want to feel your tight pussy swallowing my cock.”

“I want to suck you,” you insist as he’s sucking a new hickey on your neck.

He pulls away, meets your gaze with a lazy smile on his lips. “Well then of course.”

In another world his comment would have made you laugh, but the only thing it does is make you push him until he’s lying on his back and you’re kneeling next to him.

You look down at his dick. It’s just as pretty as you’ve always thought it was, with the brownish base to the tip that’s currently flushed red with arousal. Precum makes it glisten in the dim light from the world outside, and you let a blob of spit fall on it to add some lubrication to your jerking off.

When you feel ready, you bend down to lick a stripe along his dick, from base to top, following the thick vein. He groans, and he puts your hair in a makeshift ponytail so he can watch as you swirl your tongue around his tip.

The taste of his salty precum fills your mouth, and you hum in contentment. You wrap your lips around his tip, sucking hard once before teasing his frenulum with your tongue. Your free hand moves between his legs, and you grab his balls, massaging them gently.

They’re already tight, and you know he’ll come if you suck him for too long. You still can’t resist, and you take him as far as you can, swallowing around him so he can feel your throat constricting on him. It makes him moan out your name, which in turns makes you moan against him.

“Fuck, baby,” he lets out.

You move up until almost just his tip is in your mouth, before going all the way in once more. And then you start bobbing you head up and down in a quicker fashion as you drool on your chin, your spit coating his dick.

You squeeze his balls once, not daring to do it for longer than a few seconds. You don’t want him to come, so you let go soon after, hand moving to his thigh. You find the hard knot of his scar, and you lightly trace it with your fingers, almost instinctively.

Another part of him that you want to commit to memory. His scars – they made him into the person that was right for you. You hate that distance undid it, wish you could turn back time but alas it’s impossible.

So you focus on his dick, moving your hand away from the scars. He doesn’t let you suck him for a lot longer. Soon, he pulls you away by the hair, bringing you to his mouth instead. You kiss him as you climb on top of him, and right as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, you grab his dick to align it with your entrance.

Even though he fingered you before, he still stretches you as you sink on him, and you let out a broken moan as you dig your nails in his shoulder, where your other hand has been holding you up since you climbed on him.

You sink down until he’s fully imbedded inside of you, and then you rest your hands flatly on his chest, feeling the muscles of his pecs under your palms. You meet his gaze, hating how he’s looking at you carefully. For a moment, you both don’t move, taking the other in, and you’re struck with the realization that maybe he does know. Because his eyes are infinitely sad, infinitely pained, but when he blinks you think you might have imagined it.

You’re going crazy. You used to be able to read him like the back of your hand, but it seems the pain in your heart is keeping you from doing so, from picking up the book where you left off. Perhaps because you’ve gone blind, or maybe you forgot how to read altogether.

Jungkook feels like a stranger.

“Baby,” he lets out.

“Jungkook…”

He wets his lips, and then brings you closer. Forces you to bend down until he’s wrapped his arms around your waist. He starts moving, incredibly slow, and says, “I just want you close.”

It hurts too bad, and you hide your face in his neck. He tightens his grip around you, and after that all that can be heard in the room is your heavy breathing, mingling with the sound of the TV.

He feels healing, as much as he’s breaking you. Or you’re breaking yourself, you don’t know anymore. You wish to stop time, to interrupt the chronology of it, until all that’s left is this moment in time.

You know you can’t.

Jungkook doesn’t stop moving for a long time, as you let out breathy sounds against his neck. He’s not grunting anymore – you don’t think you or he are enjoying this, right now.

“I really want to suck your dick,” you murmur against his neck, lips tickling him.

“You’re not into this.”

Of course he’d sense it. You wrap your arms around his neck as he slips out of you, and you refuse to move for a little eternity.

“I’m okay,” you lie.

“Stop saying that you are,” Jungkook answers, and his voice has taken a cold tone. Maybe because he’s freezing – you don’t think he’d purposefully speak to you like that. “I know you aren’t.”

“Kook…”

He says your name, a loving plea that could have changed the ending, if the months hadn’t passed.

“We need to talk,” you breathe against his neck.

You think you hear his heart breaking. Like a car wreck: it’s so loud you don’t think you’ll make it out of the crash. Only, he did get out of it once – you can only hope he’ll get out again.

He runs his hand on your back, loses it in your hair. He’s gentle, infinitely so, tracing your body to remember you by when you’re gone. At least that’s what you think it is.

“Yeah?” he lets out with a small, quivering voice.

A tear spills from your eye, falling onto the soft skin of his neck.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

He holds you tighter, turning his face so that he can press a kiss to the side of your head. It’s a desperate move – it holds the weight of the universe.

“I…”

He never finishes the sentence. His words are lost to him, and you steel yourself for the glimpse you’ll give him. And when you do, you see his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I can’t do the distance anymore,” you tell him.

He nods once. “I’m staying until November.”

He blurs behind your tears, and they roll down your cheeks freely. You don’t try to dry them, and neither does he.

“But then you’ll go again.”

He doesn’t need to say anything to that, because you both know it to be the truth. His reply is physical: his arms let go of you, falling on the bed on each side of him.

You move to sit next to him, instinctively grabbing a blanket to hide yourself. Jungkook shuts his eyes before pressing the heel of his palms against his eyelids. As if that’ll stop him from crying, from shattering into thousands of little shards that will go by the wind.

The end has come. It’s upon you, it’s right this instant in time. You think you’ll forever hate this moment – will you ever recover?

“It’s just better for both of us,” you say, your voice breaking into a sob on the last words. You wish you could be stronger, but you break too hard for him. “It’s been so hard and… we both don’t try anymore.”

“I’m staying until November,” he repeats. He sounds choked, and when he pushes himself up, allowing you a glimpse of his face again, you see that he too is crying. “Please.”

“Kook…”

“No but…” he stops, laughs a laugh that turns into a sob. “I tried.”

“You didn’t.”

Maybe he did. Maybe to him he did, but it wasn’t what you needed.

“You don’t get to tell me I didn’t,” he says and he scoffs, pain laced with his next words. “When I tried, you were the one that was unavailable.”

Because you were already done then, you realize. It’s a startling realization, and you wish it wasn’t real. But it is, as real as the rain lashing at the window, as the agony in Jungkook’s gaze.

His doe eyes are pained, tormented, and you wish you could ease it. Comfort him, but you’re the source of the torture now.

“Yeah,” is all you manage to say.

He looks at you for a time, holds your crying eyes, and then he loses it, hiding his face in his hands as sobs rock through him. You’re shaking like a leaf where you’re sitting, and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out.

“We can make it work,” he tries.

You’re shaking your head no, sobs racking through you too, when he glances at you. “We can’t. We tried, Kook. We tried and it didn’t work.”

“It’s the distance,” he says. He dries his cheeks, sniffles hard. “What if I drop the job?”

“It’s your dream,” you remind him. “Don’t.”

“I don’t give a shit about this dream if it means losing you,” he insists.

Your expression is apologetic, and suddenly your eyes clear up. Too much – the clarity in your mind feels dizzying.

“It’s too late.”

The words fall like a meteorite – you think they hit harder than the one that killed the dinosaurs, millions of years ago. They hit him so hard you think they disperse the pieces of his heart to the four corners of the Earth.

You want to be selfish, you want to keep a piece of him for yourself, to remember him by, but you let him go. You have to, if you want to make it out alive.

“Come on,” he pleads. “We’ve been through so much…”

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “I know.”

There’s finality in your voice, and he hears it just as well as you do. You think he’ll fight more – Jungkook never backs down from a challenge – but to your surprise he goes incredibly still.

“Nothing I can do or say will make you stay, huh?”

You shut your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He goes cold then – like hell. Empty, freezing over, and he steps out of bed to grab some clothes in his luggage that he’s yet to unpack. You watch him, watch the last tears on his cheeks falling as he bends down. No new ones join them – he’s retracted somewhere inside of himself, probably in an attempt to protect himself. You’re not sure he’s aware of the coping mechanism, but you can recognize it.

He was in that same place when you met him again the year after his accident, before you started dating. Once, he told you that you were the one to rescue him from it.

Who will rescue him now?

You start crying again, and you force yourself to get out of bed. To grab some clothes as he’s zipping his luggage after getting dressed.

“Stop,” you tell him. “I already have plans to go stay with Bridget and Heather.”

He stops moving, and then slowly gets up. He glances at the door of the bedroom. Bam is looking through the small gap, and he gently pushes on the door to open it wider.

“What about the dog?” Jungkook asks, sounding so detached you can barely recognize him.

It breaks you even more. You’re selfish – you wish he’d fight more. You wish he’d convince you to stay, but now he looks like he doesn’t even care anymore.

You probably deserve it.

“You can keep him,” you say, as you struggle to put your clothes on, hands trembling so much it makes you lose your fine motricity. “When you-“ A sob breaks the sentence. “When you leave again I can take him in.”

Jungkook nods, and then he glances towards the television. The movie is still playing, yet it’s nearing the end now.

Everything comes to an end.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses loudly, and he moves to the bed, grabbing the remote so he can turn the TV off. He then looks at the bed. “You’re leaving with those?”

“Jungkook…”

“You’re fucking leaving with them?”

He’s motioning to Totoro and Appa, and you cry some more as you nod. “Okay. Yes. I’ll come back later for the rest.”

“Okay.”

There’s an immense silence then, as you finish putting your clothes on. As you go to the closet, where you’ve already packed a duffel bag with stuff for a week. Jungkook scoffs when he sees it, and it almost makes your legs give out under you.

“You weren’t going to give me a chance, were you?” he asks bitterly, reproachfully.

“My decision was made,” you answer with a small voice. “I just… it’s too hard.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

You know Jungkook often hurts others when he himself is in pain. It’s something he said he didn’t want to do anymore, a side of him he told you he hates. You’re not surprised to see it come to the surface right now – you don’t think he’s ever gotten his heart broken like this before.

So you’re not surprised when he adds, “We should have broken up when we fought on the phone. Because why was I so fucking stupid to think you still loved me?”

Your heart breaks. It’s been breaking, but now it’s different. Burning, throbbing pain takes over the beating organ, and you struggle to breathe. The air is boiling in your lungs, and it’s so fierce you feel it in every inch of your body.

“I do,” you tell him. “It’s not because I don’t love you…”

He laughs. He bursts out laughing, and it’s a little crazed, a little scary. “Right. Yeah. Tell that to yourself.”

In that instant, you remember when you’d told him you loved him for the first time. At his art exhibit, choked on emotions you thought you’d always know. You don’t know them anymore, but he’s wrong.

You’ll always love him.

“Kook…”

“Will you fucking stop calling me that?” he asks, and he finally meets your gaze again.

“Sorry…”

He sighs loudly, tongue poking at his cheek. “Are you leaving now?”

It’s weird – the way he says it reminds you of your mother when she kicked you out years ago. It reminds you of the early days with Jungkook and you don’t think you can move. You’re stuck in the spot where you’re standing, watching him as he watches you.

When his gaze breaks and he lets out, “Please”, you finally start moving.

First to the bed, to grab Appa and Totoro, and then towards the door.

You push the door open, and Bam wags his tail as you walk out. You’re crying again – you’re not sure you ever stopped – but the sight of the dog makes everything worse. Because it’s not only Jungkook you’re losing, it’s Bam too.

It’s your life. You’re losing everything that matters to you, in an attempt to save yourself. In an attempt to find something better for yourself, something that won’t ache for months at a time like being with Jungkook now does.

“Hey, Bamie,” you say, and you hold the plush toys away as he tries to bite into Appa’s paw. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You bend, and you let the dog lap at your cheek, as if he can dry your tears. When he stops to look at you curiously, head tilted to the side, you press a kiss to the top of his head. You can’t move for a time and, as if sensing it, Bam remains entirely still too.

He only moves when you stretch, and it’s to press his body against your legs, as if trying to stop you from leaving. Tears cascade down your face, and you tell him you’re sorry, too. You repeat that you’ll see him soon again, hoping that it’ll help, and then you’re walking around him. Walking towards the door, walking towards the crying world outside.

Jungkook follows behind, silent as ever, hands lost in the pockets of his sweatpants, eyes lost in the void. You put down your stuff by the door, put on a light coat and grab your keys. You store them in your coat pocket, and then head to the door, to put on your shoes.

Every step feels like lead, like death, and you just keep crying. It only stops when you meet Jungkook’s gaze, when you’re ready to leave.

Or as ready as you’ll ever be.

“So that’s it?” he asks.

“That’s it,” you agree, and you wish you didn’t. Wish those weren’t the words you said.

He nods once, looking like he’s burdened with a great fatigue. “Alright.”

You want to scream at him to say more, but he doesn’t. Only stays silent as he looks at you, doe eyes so big. His waterline is wet again, and he’s got red splotches all over his face. He’s fighting the tears this time around and you wish you’d give him a reprieve, wish you’d be able to leave but, once again, you’re rooted in your spot.

Maybe because you still have more to say.

“Thank you for…” You pause, take a deep, shaking breath in. “Thank you for the years. I had a lot of fun with you.”

“Please go.”

You nod once, and then you turn around. It occurs to you that your hands are full, and you look at the doorknob as if it’s foreign. Jungkook must have noticed, because he steps forward, his hand reaching for it.

He stills halfway there, with his arm right next to you. And then you hear him choke on a sob, and you drop what you’re holding to face him, to pull him into a hug.

You don’t know how long you cry, holding onto each other like this. Because the moment you’ve wrapped your arms around his waist, Jungkook wrapped his around your shoulders, and he hid his face in your hair.

You cry and cry, together. The last thing you’ll ever do together, you reckon. You wish it wasn’t the case, wish the ending was still at the end a very long road, but it’s come short tonight and it’s too late to stop now.

You break against him, holding him. He’s shaking in your arms, as much as you’re shaking in his. Both of you trembling leaves in the wake of your end. And then you fall to your demise, carried away by the wind.

You don’t know when you let go of him. Only come to your senses when you’re in bed, sometime between dusk and dawn, away from him.

You’re never going to hold him again.

Teaser | Next

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Pain. I'm crying again from rereading one last time before posting. Please don't hate me oop- let me know what you think of the fic! Did we like it, even though it hurts? All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate.

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