Work Text:
It has always been like this.
“It’s just a one-time thing,” he reminds you on that first, but definitely not the last night. He was in pain physically, while you were in pain mentally and emotionally.
Bloody knuckles knocking on your door and you welcome him with open arms into your tiny studio apartment, ready to wash away the bruises, the wounds, the tears, the pain.
It made your heart heavy, seeing him in this state almost every week. That one-time thing turned to a monthly thing then somehow turned to a weekly thing. You tried to convince him to stop fighting but he never listened, your voice and reasoning wasted when he pretends to hear you but end up knocking on your door again, bloody and bruised. The dried blood stains on the once-white wooden surface serves as a canvas and Jeon Jungkook was a very frustrated artist.
Your boyfriend was proven to be the cry baby in the relationship. He was sensitive, a little bit of a brat, always asked for praise, and whines (with matching stomps of his heavy feet) when things don’t go his way. That was the Jungkook you knew and loved, until one of his gym friends, the infamous Kim Namjoon, convinced him to try underground fighting, using “you’ll win big money” as an excuse to fully brainwash him. Not only was it dangerous, but it was also illegal. The thought of him getting arrested and rotting in jail was something you could never handle, it would kill you internally, yet he wasn’t scared. He wanted to feel the thrill, the adrenaline, the sting.
At first, Jungkook told a little white lie that the fights would only occur inside the gym premises. Promising you that he would only be sparring with Namjoon and a few of his friends. It did for a while, you even watched a few of his fights in the ring and you were shocked (and slightly turned on) at how amazing he was. But those short rounds inside the gym were only his training grounds and the real fights were held somewhere you never knew about.
That dreadful day you found out about the truth was, apparently, when you were doing your weekly house cleaning. You were about to take out the trash when a sharp object accidentally ripped the plastic bag open, making the contents spill on the kitchen floor. And that’s when you saw the bloody bandages and empty bottles of pain killers roll on the marbled surface. So that’s why he always volunteers to take out the trash on chores day, you thought to yourself, frustration building up inside you because you were stupid enough to not realize it sooner. When Jungkook catches you staring at the mess on the floor, his doe eyes widen and immediately runs over to you to explain, yet all you could hear were muffled words, as if your entire head was submerged in deep water.
You fought about it for an entire week, longer even, both of you crying and yelling at each other and not once did he apologize because he still wanted to do it, and you failed miserably at convincing him.
The entire relationship turned upside down and you suddenly became the cry baby. Even when he doesn’t fight for a night, every time you look him in the eyes, you tear up. The negative thoughts in your head won't let you live in peace and it’s making you lose your sanity altogether. What if you never see his beautiful face again? What if bad people attack him outside the ring? What if he gets killed? The urge to handcuff his arms against the headboard of the bed seems silly but if it ends up being the last resort to make him stop fighting, then you will absolutely do it.
One night you stop crying.
When you see him again—another deep cut above his left eyebrow, fresh purplish-red bruise on the edge of his pierced lower lip, bloodshot right eye—no tears fell from your face. You looked at him with no pity, eyes empty, mind blank and heart numb.
It was a moment similar to one of those episodes in The Vampire Diaries where they decide to switch off their humanity so they don’t have to deal with their heightened emotions. You truly wish it could be that way so you won’t have to feel the pain of seeing your significant other suffer. You don’t even know if you could call it suffering because he craves it. But as of now, your heart is empty because he just finished the last drop of pity inside of you.
The boy who stands before you looked and felt like a stranger.
Where was that sweet boy with a bunny-like smile you met at the park, who bought the last chocolate-covered pretzel for you even though it was his favorite? That boy who delivered handwritten love letters to you doorstep every month to celebrate the number of days you’ve been together? That boy who slices your sandwiches into heart shapes manually because cookie cutters are overrated? That boy who would engrave his initials J and K on your bare skin in the form of love bites, whispering “mine” right after? You miss him, all of him.
You felt numb but you weren’t heartless, and still welcomed him into your home. Not saying a word and simply just cleaning the wounds like a nurse in the emergency room who was used to seeing their patients in this state. It was basically just a job for you. Jungkook whispers soft apologies as you dab antibiotic cream on the open cuts, but you still said nothing. His hand tries to reach for your face but you push it away harshly.
“Baby, please say something.” He begs, voice cracking and you see a tear stream down from his eye.
“There’s nothing left to say.” You stand up and lead him towards the door and he didn’t try to fight you. He stepped out and he lets you slam the door harshly in front of him.
One night you stop opening the door.
You hear the knocks, firm and steady, like a heart beating, then it became softer after a while of hearing no response. You just let the faint sound echo on the other side of the door, until he stops.
“Y/N?” His hoarse voice calls you, but you don’t respond.
“Y/N, are you there? Please open the door.” He calls again, then you sharply exhale, the tears you’ve been holding back finally falling down from your eyes. You thought you were done crying, you thought that there were no more tears left to cry.
You clear your throat and walk towards the door, “go home, Jungkook.” That’s when you broke down into full sobs.
You bang the back of your head against the door and slide your body down to hug your knees. Your loud whimpers could surely be heard by the guilty boy on the other side, but you didn’t care. You were tired of seeing the same bloody and bruised face. You don’t even remember him not looking all beat up anymore. You miss him, you miss your Jungkook.
“I-I’m so sorry.” He was crying too.
Both of you sobbed for the rest of the night, with only the wooden door separating you two.
After hours of crying, you pass out.
When morning came, you find yourself laying on the cold, marbled floor. The faint sunlight hitting your irises as it reflected on the window across the room. You were unaware of the time, but you knew that it was in the middle of a work week yet you have zero energy to leave your empty house.
You stand up and wobble towards the bathroom to look for pain killers because of the throbbing migraine you had because of crying too much last night. Everything felt like a fever dream but you knew that it happened, you knew it was real because of the heaviness you were feeling as you drag your feet towards the targeted room.
You check your phone on the bedside table, only to find thirteen missed calls from two people you despised with a fiery passion. Seven from Namjoon and six from Taehyung. It was partly their fault for brainwashing your innocent boyfriend into entering the world of fighting. Just partly because you were also one to blame since you weren’t able to stop him. Maybe you did try, but it wasn’t enough.
The phone suddenly rang again and Namjoon’s name flashed on the screen, you pick it up and immediately say “listen you prick—” then he cuts you off by asking if Jungkook is at your place.
“Taehyung said that he didn’t sleep over at his house last night and I haven’t seen him in the gym yet.” Namjoon says calmly.
“He’s not here, I don’t know where he went. Last night he knocked on my door but I didn’t–oh my god.” When realization hit, you drop the phone on the bed then quickly ran towards the front door.
“Oh my god.” Your boyfriend was passed out cold on the floor outside your apartment, with only his thin black shirt and white cotton shorts the only pieces of clothing protecting him from the harsh, freezing temperature outside. You try to shake him, two fingers checking on the pulse on his neck and thankfully you felt it beating at a steady pace.
“Jungkook, baby, wake up. Please wake up.” You cry, still shaking him.
His eyes slowly flutter open and you sigh in relief, but you were also so angry and frustrated that you started cursing and punching him God knows where because your eyes were foggy from the tears you were shedding.
“Fuck you, fuck you! I hate you, I hate you so much you bastard!” You scream loudly, not caring about the neighbors' noise complaint later on.
Jungkook grips on both your wrists and tries to calm you down and since he was stronger, you stopped prying your hands free and collapsed into his tight embrace, feeling defeated, exhausted and heartbroken all at once.
“Ssshh, calm down. I got you,” he cooed, lips gently kissing your temple, the cold metal of his lip piercing making you shiver at the sudden contact.
“I’m so sorry.” He says in between kisses.
His soft lips move to kiss your tear-stained cheeks, left and right. Then continues a light trail of kisses until he reaches the edge of your mouth, whispering a soft “love you” before finally reaching your lips.
You wanted to push him away, it was never part of the plan to let him in again so easily. But your mind was hazy and you couldn’t process what was happening since last night. You’ve longed and craved for his physical touch because it’s been way too long since he last held you so intimately like this. His arms sweep and carry you up bridal style and he brings you back into your dark apartment, closing the door behind him with one foot. He was craving for you just as much as you did and he couldn’t wait any longer so he placed you down on the kitchen counter and hungrily attacked your face with open-mouthed kisses. Your small palms pull his face closer and he hisses in pain, realizing that he has another bruise just above his cheek.
He sees your worried expression but he shakes his head and places his hands on top of yours, “it’s okay, I’m fine.” He whispers reassuringly.
His hands reach for the waistband of your shorts and tug it down in one swift motion, revealing your already-glistening cunt. Without warning, his fingers swipe a stripe up your sensitive clit and you gasp at the foreign feeling. You were embarrassed at how wet you were already and to think that you were pouring out your rage not too long ago and now you just wanted all of him inside you.
He inserts one finger and you moan at the sudden stretch. You part your legs further to give him more access and just right after he inserts a second finger, his head dips into your core and you whimper at the sensation of his tongue on your sensitive cunt.
“You’re so tight for me, fuck. It’s been way too long since I tasted you.” He groans in a low tone in between licks.
His free hand pushes you down onto the cold, granite surface of the counter, then locks your leg above his shoulder so he could pull you closer for more tongue pressure against your leaking cunt. His fingers move faster, hitting that exact pleasure spot and your breath hitches as you feel your high coming closer. Just before you climax, his fingers pull out and you whine at the empty feeling.
“Jungkook, please.”
Before you attempted to sit up, he pushes you back down, “I want us to come together.” He says.
Jungkook reaches for the waistband of his thin shorts and his throbbing cock springs free, red and leaking with pre-cum.
“Open a little wider for me, baby.” He voluntarily pulls your legs apart without you moving an inch.
His cock slides into you slowly, steadily, then with one rough push, his entire length was inside you. He keeps your arms pinned above your head while he rams into your pussy hungrily.
“Fuck, I missed this. I missed you.” He groans, looking into your eyes.
“Kiss me please,” you beg and he gives in to your request right away.
Kisses getting sloppier as you two chase your high, loud whimpers echoing in the small space of your kitchen.
“Jungkook, fuck. You feel so good. Faster, harder. Fuck.”
One final thrust and you both cry in pleasure, his warm seed filling you up until you feel full. Jungkook collapses on your limp body and your arms wrap around him, not wanting to let go of him ever again.
“I-I’m sorry, I’ll never fight again. I’ll never hurt you again.” He promises and you nod, caressing his dark, sticky hair with your small hands.
No, you didn’t know if he’ll be able to keep his words. No, you still haven’t forgiven him for all the pain he’s caused you. No, you haven’t forgiven yourself for allowing him to hurt you like that.
But love is stronger than pain.