Ash

He’s finally able to glance your way. Jungkook’s eyes are still wet, his fingers are trembling ever so slightly when he raises them to wipe his nose.

“You deserve to know… everything. How much you mean to me- I just,” he sighs. “I wish I could get the words out.”

“Take your time,” you insist. “Say it in as many words as it takes. Im not going anywhere, I want to listen.” You add. He leans on your shoulder; his hair tickles your skin slightly as he does so.

Jungkook pressed closer against your shoulder, his body shivering as struggled to compose himself. The tension in his frame remained coiled tight, like a spring wound too far.

"It's not that I don't feel it," he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. "It's that I feel it so intensely it scares me. Sometimes I look at you and I feel like I'm…. drowning in how much I need you." He finally pulled away just enough to meet your gaze properly. His dark, doe eyes were glassy, reflecting the light of the room.

"I feel like I'm failing you because I can't articulate the depth of it. I'm terrified that one day it will make you believe I'm indifferent. I’m… I’m not.”

He reached down, fumbling blindly until his fingers found yours. His grip was desperate. "I need you to understand that every time I'm quiet.. it's because I'm trying to process the fact that you’re everything. I can only give you pieces of myself because I'm too scared to show you how much power you actually have over me."

“Jungkook….” You manage, unsure what to say in the moment. “Im… flattered you feel that way, honey.”

You take his hand more firmly, trying to help him compose himself; youve never been one to bottle things up or stay silent, so this is very out of your wheelhouse.

Jungkook flinched slightly at your choice of words, the word 'flattered' seeming to land like a soft blow against his raw nerves. He wasn't looking for gratitude or politeness.

His thumb traced absent circles over your knuckles, trying to find peace in his anxious body.

"Flattered?" He repeated the word quietly, a self deprecating smile flickering across his lips before vanishing. "I don't want you to feel flattered. I want you to feel seen. I want you to feel the weight of it." His grip tightened fractionally, his palm warm and slightly damp against yours. "Nevermind. You don’t get it.”

“Im trying to understand, baby.” You reassure him yet again. “I hear you; the last thing I think you are is indifferent. I think you worry too much.”

He looks away briefly, wiping his eyes.

"I don't want to be someone you simply tolerate because I'm difficult," he whispered. “Im sorry.”

“You aren’t difficult!” You promise, moving to hold him. He crumbles into you. “You are not difficult Jungkook you are sensitive, and caring, and so— so incredibly sweet and I would do anything to make this..” you squeeze him. “This insecurity go away. You are enough.”

Jungkook let out a sound that was half sob, half gasp as he collapsed into your embrace, his forehead dropping against your body. Your words seem to pierce through the armor of his self doubt, leaving his emotions raw and exposed. He wrapped his arms around your waist with startling strength, clinging to you even as you wince. One of his hands tangles in the fabric of your shirt at your back, bunching it up between his white knuckled fingers. You let him cry until the shaking of his shoulders is replaced by a heavy, exhausted stillness.

"You say that so easily," he muffled against your neck, his voice thick, "Like it's something that can just be fixed with words. You’re sure that I’m enough even when I feel… like this?” He pauses.

You let him collect his thoughts once more.

“I want to be the man you see when you look at me."

You stop picking on him. It was funny at first, but you can see his eyes welling with emotion.

“Yoongs.” You prod. “Talk to me.”

He turns away further, hurt.

“Whats the problem?” You insist. You werent going to let it go until he admitted it. You pull the car over.

“C’mere,” you open your arms and he… just leans until his head is pressed against your shoulder over the middle console.

“i love you,” he mumbles, trying to keep his voice down so you couldnt hear the trembling. “Thats the problem. And he knows that.”

“He was being nice,” You try to ease him.

“He was too friendly.”

“Okay? What was I gonna say, Ive got a boyfriend? I dont.” You awkwardly lean his way, resting against him just as he was doing to you.

Yoongi is silent.

“Ill tell him I do next time.” You hint, nudging him.

“What?” He looks over at you. His eyes dart away from yours.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend or not?”

“I-“ he rubs his eyes. “Fuck. Sure… okay.” He sits up. “Yeah…. Please.”

You reach to rub his shoulders while he composes himself.

“I didn’t think you liked me back,” he confesses, still wiping his runny nose. He finally gathers the courage to peek at you. The sight of you makes him all fuzzy inside.

“Of course I like you- I love you, Yoongi. So much. You’re everything to me. Thats why…” you pause, sighing. “Thats why I don’t worry about other men. It doesn’t matter. I don’t want anyone but you.”

He subtly smiles, hiding the way embarrassment colors his face.

“Now you’re just being corny.” He pushes your arm away.

“Oh so we’re breaking up already?” You joke.

“I know,” you answer, pressing a kiss to his temple. “But you’ve been cooped up in here for three and a half hours. This isn’t what you were busy with an hour ago.”

“And?” He doesnt see the problem. Yoongi didn’t always like being interrupted.

“I miss you.” You answer, “come out of your cave and spend time with me.”

“I cant-“ he begins, but its you. He shouldnt say no to you. “… just come here.” He moves his chair, resting a hand on his thigh.

You comply, circling around the chair to plop down in his lap. Your smug expression makes him deadpan. He wasnt going to get any work done now. Yoongi tries to set up the guitar with you wedged on top of him. It doesn’t really work until he fixes your position. Oh well, he wasn’t playing anything, just tuning strings.

Then he feels your lips against his neck.

He takes a breath, tolerating it at first. It was easy to ignore when you were only doing it now and then. He even brushes the longer strands of hair away so you had more space.

Not even ten minutes goes by before you’re sneaking your cold hands under his shirt. He can feel you inching further and further up.

“Honey…..” he complains softly, shifting in his seat. You don’t stop.

“What? Im not doing anything.”

He sighs. “Don’t give me that. You know what you’re doing.”

With a huff, you pull your hands back down the span of his torso. But you wanted him, and he was so close now.. and so, so pretty when he was focused on something. Just one last time you sneak a hand closer and closer to his lap. One of his guitar strings snaps.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, setting the guitar down. It was late, and he didn’t feel like finding his strings and re-stringing it.

“What did I tell you?” He asks, frustrated- both at the guitar and you.

“That you were busy. But I told you I missed you,” you argue.

“I wouldnt have snapped a string if would keep your hands to yourself.” He scolds.

“Its not my fault you want me sooooo bad.” You taunt. Thats it.

He gives you a look you know all too well and you scramble to get up and away from him. He’s already got you before you can stand. Both of your wrists are in his hands, he’s got you stuck straddling him, back against the desk.

“New comeback song?” You ask him. He makes a humming noise.

“Not finished.” He responds. “Part of one.. Namjoon wanted feedback. Im not sure what it’s missing.

You squeeze a particularly tense part of his traps and he screws his eyes shut, sighing through his nose. “Im sore,” he complains dryly.

“Yeah? Well, you get so focused…” you point out. “You forget to move.”

He stretches then, losing focus on what he was meant to be critiquing. “Do you want to hear it?” He motions you over and you climb up onto the couch with him. He holds one arm out so you can rest on him.

He offers you one of the earbuds and you take it. It was exciting to hear a snippit of a song that may or may not make the album in a few months.

“He’s worried the sample is too much.” Yoongi establishes, one hand idly drumming with his fingers. “Hoseok likes it, but I’m not sure…”

“Are you kidding?” You’re surprised he doesn’t like it. “I think it sounds great. Is that the title track?”

“Don’t know.” He shrugs, tilting his head. “It’s not that the sample is bad, it’s just not mixed how I would’ve done it.”

“Quieter?” You ask. “So you can actually hear the vocalists,”

“Yeah,” he agrees, idly pressing a kiss to your temple now that you were so close. “.. that might help….”

“We have so many ideas and the company keeps getting in the way,” he complains. “Makes me worry fans won’t like it.”

You frown a little. “They’ll like it. When have they ever disliked something?”

“Do you want me to name some?” He questions. You shake your head.

Feeling somewhat bad for Yoongi, you snuggle closer. “Why don’t you take a break? Just for a couple minutes?”

Staring at the ceiling, Yoongi takes an exhausted breath. “I guess…”

You move everything to the side. His phone, his little midi controller, his laptop… a tangle of wires connecting everything together.

“Have you started learning any choreography again?” You ask, mostly to tease. You know he hates dancing. Or at least he claims to.

“Dont remind me,” he mumbles into your shoulder, body half laying on top of yours. One of your legs is tangled in his.

“I hope they have you in the middle, like….” You pause. “Like the seesaw choreography.”

“No.” He grumbles. “That was one time.”

“Or for Like That….” You recall.

“That wasnt my choice.” He retorts.

“You did such a good job,” you praise, threading your fingers through his dark hair. He makes a noise you swear sounds like a cat.

As soon as he tries to move her, she whines, little hands clinging to his shirt.

Your face softens. “She doesn’t want to leave you.”

“I guess she doesn’t.” He stops, bringing her back. “Come on… Dad’s gotta sleep too..” he tries to soothe her once again. “Its okay. Ill be back.”

She whines again, curling her little body closer to him.

“Barely two years old with a favorite parent,” you complain lightheartedly. “Come on- I gave birth to you, let me hold you.”

When you put your hands out again she cries.

“Oh my goodness….” Namjoon shakes his head. “What is the fuss about?” He croons. “Im gonna be right here when you wake up. Youve just gotta got to sleep first,” he lowers his head to kiss your daughter on the forehead. “Shh….”

One long, sad, drawn out ‘da-da’ later and Namjoon melts. He.. totally gives up. He just cant bring himself to watch her cry when she cant let him go. The two of you end up upright in bed, your head on his shoulder as he holds her close.

“M’I love you…” he mumbles, half asleep. “thank you for trying…”

“I love you too.” You promise, eyes half lidded. The clock on your nightstand reads 5:20AM, it’s gotten so late that the sun has begun to rise again.

“… I’m not going into work today.” Namjoon adds, taking a deep breath. Your daughter has finally, finally gone to sleep, her hands still clutching his shirt tightly.

“Are you sore?” You question, his injury being the first thing on your mind. “Why are you still standing- come on, sit. — Joonie, please…”

He follows you as you back up into the living room and guide him on the couch. You get down to his level.

“Let me make you something, you probably haven’t eaten in hours.” You offer, “any preference?”

He sighs, running a hand through short dyed-blond hair. “just like- something simple.. I don’t really care as long as it isn’t hard for you to make.”

“Sandwich it is.” You stand, giving him a kiss in the process. “tell me about work, honey. What happened?”

“Nothing abnormal,” he describes, pausing to recollect. “Our team’s translator isn’t doing his job, so filming interviews has me repeating myself over and over again.”

“Well that’s not nothing.” You reply, gathering your ingredients and setting a pan on the stove. You can see him from here in the open-face kitchen. He looks more comfortable now that he’s home.

“Im used to it…” Joon excuses. “That, and I’m tired of not being able to participate like I want to.” He carefully leans to pull the straps of the boot loose so it was just his cast supporting the injury.

“Well, Im glad theyre stopping you. If they didnt you’d be running around on a torn ligament.” You remind him. “You’re not holding any of the boys up by needing rest. They understand.”

“— Sure, but.. this is our year. I want to do something other than sit for the tour.”

“I know,” you reassure him, flipping the sandwich over on the pan so it toasts the opposite side. He glances your way. “That smells good, what are you making?”

“A salmon melt with the grilled salmon we had in the fridge. Im just toasting the bread so its a better texture.”

“Ugh, that looks so good… I love you,” he states- clearly interested (and starving). “So much.”

“— I love you more.” You reply, knowing he’s going to compete with you.

“thats not possible.” He shakes his head. “You cant love me more if I love you most.”

“Oh, really?” You set his sandwich on a plate with a napkin and bring it over. “I love you most-est.”

“Thats not a word.” He takes the plate and you sit down next to him, leaning against his shoulder.

“Yeah, because theres no word in the english language to describe how much I love you.” You retort. “It’s bigger than that.”

He smiles, in disbelief at your stubbornness. “You’re ridiculous,” Namjoon moves to kiss your forehead, then your nose, then you lift your head for a peck to the lips.

You don’t hear him come in. He’s confused at first by the dim, warm lighting.. the candles you had lit. You changed the place since he left.

He shrugs the jacket off from his military uniform, left in his camo print pants and a form-fitting army green shirt. He smiles as the song shifts. You still played this burned cd after two years?

“There was love, all around...” He mumbles along to the tune, searching for you around the house. When he finds you his face lights up.

You spot him behind you in the mirror. He scares you half to death.

“Taehyung!” You realize, whirling around to practically leap into his arms. The first thing he notices is the dress… the dress you wore on the first date. God, he loved that thing.

“Hey pretty girl,” he compliments, spinning you around with ease and then dipping you back. You make a noise of surprise. The clarinets whistle at the end of Till There Was You…

He pulls you up and presses a kiss to your lips. Its a breath of fresh air. Its relief after carrying the burden of missing him. When you pull away you rest your head against Taehyung’s chest, one hand where his heart would be. His arm is gently around your wast, the other holding your free hand.

It’s a quiet moment— words aren’t really necessary.

“I love this song,” he mutters, looking over his shoulder at the cd player shaped like a record table on the far wall. He walks you through the spacious living room like its a dance floor. At last…

“Im so glad you’re home.” You admit to him, trying not to step on his feet. He was better at slow dancing than you were.

He nods, taking a calm breath. “Im glad I worked two years to come home to this. You’re all the reward I need.”

He leads you away from him to give you room to spin. Taehyung admires the way your dress flares.

You’re flushed at his compliments. “I love you,”

“I love you too,” he returns to affection. When you pull back into him he lifts you up— up like they do in Dirty Dancing. You let him; the way he looks at you says he’s been dreaming of this moment the entire time he’s been away.

When he sets you down, you’re a little winded. The song is over. Taehyung doesn’t waste a second; he’s already helping flatten your dress back out and fix your hair. He finishes up with a sweet momentary kiss.

“Don’t leave my sight again.” He requests. “Oh- we have to dance to this one too.” He perks up as Baby I’m Yours begins.

“Taehyung-“ you protest as he takes your hands. You’re tired.

“Wha- what. What?” He asks at first, not used to you coming over and just smothering him in a hug. He nearly drops his orange when you climb up on his seat and throw your arms around him. His cheek is smushed against your chest as he makes a face. “What are you doing?” He asks again. You try not to laugh, pressing your face to the crook of his neck once you settle down.

He misinterprets the gesture as sadness.

Awkwardly, he puts one arm around you to rub your back, the other still fumbling with his snack. He deftly pulls a section from the whole and offers it to you. “Honey.” He says “are you upset? This is so weird…” he mutters, confused but not necessarily against it. “Look at me, please?”

You cant take it anymore— he feels you starting to snicker and he take a deep breath. “You worried me,” yoongi complains, exhasperated; he realizes now you’re playing around.

“What, I cant hold my boyfriend?!” You ask— popping your head up. He tries offering you a slice again and you take it this time. “You looked really cute I just wanted to cuddle.”

“You didn’t say anything,” he points out, “I thought you were crying,”

“Wowwww…”

“What? I- I don’t… you confuse me.”

“Im just loving you,” you nuzzle him and his shoulders tense.

“I can see that.” The slightest hint of his gummy smile shows. He wouldnt admit it but he does like this; it wasnt every day he felt comfortable enough to hold you. Slowly his body returns back to its relaxed state. In time he presses a kiss to your forehead right between your eyebrows.

“Not so bad is it?” You ask, relaxed against his body.

“No.” He replies, focused once more. “Im starting to anticipate it. Comes with having a velcro girlfriend.”

“Velcro girlfriend?” You repeat, amused by the term.

“Yeah,” he confirms, finishing off his tangerine. “You are stuck to me everywhere I go. — I would touch you back but my fingers are sticky. Let me get up to wash my hands.”

“Nooooo,” you whine. “I just got comfortable.”

“Honey,” he grins, amused by your antics. “Let go of me- see this what I mean by velcro. Im about to carry you to the sink.”

“No!”

“Please,” you half-attempt at begging. It sounds just as pretty as all the other noises that have fallen from your lips. Its not what he wants to hear though. Your focus falls on his middle and ring finger lowering to part your folds. He glides through the slick, clear arousal pooling there before dragging his fingers right back up to apply pressure in circles. Yoongi plants a lazy kiss to the top of your shoulder and the crook of your neck.

“Grabbing at me isn’t gonna get you what you want.” He scolds gently, vibration of his voice traveling straight to your core. “If you want to cum you’ve gotta watch.”

The friction is agonizing, a pressure that makes your hips stutter. Yoongi doesn't let you find release; instead, he maintains that torturous, slow pace, his eyes dark and unreadable as he watches the way you unravel. He is a man of patience, preferring to milk every bit of desperation from your body rather than grant you the release you're starving for.

You feel his thumb hook into your hip to anchor you as his fingers grow slightly more insistent. The circles become tighter when you stop looking at his hands and watch him. You arch your back, your fingers curling into whatever part of him you can grab, a whine escaping your throat as the tension coils just a fraction from snapping. You screw your eyes shut, anticipating a crash that never comes. Just a disappointing ache as he stops the second he loses your attention.

You tap out.

The silence that follows is heavy. You lie there, limbs feeling heavy as lead and strangely electric, staring at the ceiling while you try to catch your breath. The frustration is a dull throb in your abdomen that refuses to subside.

“Too far?” He asks, his hands moving to gently rub your thighs. They drag out to your knees and back again, then hug you around the waist.

“No- I just….” You take a breath. “I cant do it.”

“Thats alright. This isn’t fun unless you want it too.” He promises, peppering small kisses to your shoulders again. He’s warm against your back.

“… will you let me…” you let the question trail off.

“How do you want it?” He mumbles against your skin. “Can I touch you?”

You nod and he palms your sex again- no intent to rile you up without permission.

You turn your head to ask for a kiss and he grants it. “Can you use your mouth?”

“Mh.” He hums, pulling away. “Lie back.”

You make yourself comfortable and he slots perfectly between your thighs. Yoongi hooks his arms under your legs and places both palms on your lower abdomen. The pad of his thumb presses against your clit, nudging it back and fourth for a minute; he’s admiring the mess you’ve managed to make.

“Look at you...” He comments. You reach for his scalp. He deserves a good hair pull for leaving you wanting so long.

“I know- its your fault. Yoongi please,” you fuss, impatient. “Come on.”

“I feel like it is,” he tries to look down at his own face but it’s hard without a mirror. His focus flickers to the elevator numbers then back to you. “Im serious, love.” He worries. You just smile innocently.

“It’s fine, baby. Promise.”

He’s gullible. You watch his eyes crinkle and his boxy smile come to life. “You promise I don’t look like a mess?” He laughs lightly. “… ah, fine, come here. Before we reach our floor.” He leans back to you for more.

His hair is messy and he is slathered in kisses by the time the elevator dings. Some of the marks are more obvious, some are pink smudges from where the application has gotten thin.

“Ill miss you! Have fun be safe!” You wave, watching him step out.

“Ill miss you too. Love you,” he promises as the door closes. He catches you say ‘I love you’ back as it’s going back down.

Time to get back to work.

He goes down the empty hall, pushes on the studio door, and…

The boys go quiet as he enters. Hoseok is the first one to break character, laughing and pointing.

“Taehyung, what happened to you?” Jimin asks, his voice twinged with amusement.

“What?” He asks, confused, embarrassed. He pulls out his phone to look. You lied to him!

“She told me I looked fine…”

This causes the boys to glance at each other, a sea of laughter between them.

“Did you get lost at sephora on the way here?” Jungkook jokes.

“Is this why you were late?” Jimin prompts further. “— no, no its nice. It’s cute don’t wipe it off.” He frets. “It’s so nice.”

“I look ridiculous ,” Tae complains. You even promised!

“You look like your girlfriend hasn’t seen you in years.” Jin points out.

“You look very loved.” namjoon corrects him. “Come on, go clean up and let’s get back to work.”

“Im sorry.” You manage, your voice wrecked. “Your career is going to fall apart and it just started- and the guys are going to be so mad and I’ll lose my contract,” you whimper, sucking in a breath from how fast you were spilling words out.

“Woah- hey, hey.” He gets up then, nearly smacking himself on the edge of the table to get to you. “None of that. Alright? Why are you worried about my career? Don’t worry about me. This isn’t about me.” His fingertips brush your leg. His hand is warm. You wince at first but allow him to encroach on your personal space.

Jungkook waits until you’re done hiccuping for air, gently brushing his fingertips against your cheeks. “I understand you’re scared, but if we need to cover this up then we will cover it up.”

“I cant just take a break for nine months, the media is going to know!” You wail, discouraged by all of the warnings and scoldings placed on you by your team. They told you not to date, you did it anyway. They told you be careful and safe, you.. didn’t listen. Here you were now. Screwed.

“I know- I-“ he stammers. “I hear you, okay? I understand but let’s just.. set aside the career for a moment. Focus on you. What you want,” he encourages. “Do you want the baby?”

The idea is so nauseating you want to throw up. Maybe it’s the early signs of pregnancy, maybe you’re just sick from sobbing all evening.

“I dont know!”

He remains patient, moving closer to hold you instead. You collapse into him like a baby fawn on its legs for the first time.

“You dont even want it..” you fret, words fumbled by the pout on your face.

“I didn’t say that, baby. I just asked if you were sure this is real. Did you hear me when I asked about other tests?”

“M’no,” you mumble. He rubs your back.

“Okay. Well, before we do anything serious… or plan for the worst, let’s hope for the best.” He promises. “You need water, and a moment to clam down. Im going to run down to the store and get you another set of the tests— there’s a chance this isn’t an accurate reading. Have you missed your period?”

“By a week,” you can finally focus on his face. “Or.. maybe a week and a half. I didn’t count.”

He nods. The next few minutes blur together for you. Jungkook is more stressed than he would ever let you believe. Honestly, his career was extremely on the line— and right as they’ve hit the western market, too. He didn’t have a lot of time to fix this before he was off to the Grammys, filming interviews in California… a week in Rockefeller; he could keep worrying, but it felt useless. He exerts all of that energy pacing around the house helping you settle.

He feels completely numb in his car, even more so staring down the parent planning aisle at the convenience store. Never in his twenty ish years of living did he think he would be in this scenario- not with you, not with anyone.

Jungkook does the responsible thing, buys the higher end tests. He doesn’t even have time to worry if the cashier recognizes his face half-covered by a mask. Of all times for that to happen it couldn’t happen now.

-

When you, finally, take the retest it comes out negative. You wanted— no, craved relief, but it didn’t do much to console you. What if this was the fake and the other was real results? Nothing felt like it made sense anymore.

He is quick to insist that whatever happens, happens. One step at a time— nothing is permanent if you don’t want it to be. You’re supposed to wait 72 hours before taking another test, but you don’t even need to. You bleed 48 hours in. It was a fluke.

He finds you after hours at HYBE as fast as he can manage to give you a big, seriously long hug.

“I told you it was going to be alright,” jungkook encourages, happier than ever to see you relieved.

“I’ve never been happy to start a period before,” you admit, exhausted. “A horrible one at that.”

“Awe, honey…” Jungkook trails off. “We can do something about that. Do you… want some hotpot and then crash at my house for some rest?” He suggests. You nod vigorously. Jungkook kisses you on the forehead.

You don’t know how to answer that and not disappoint him. Feeling judged, it takes you a moment to find the right words. “… I’m just keeping track of food, thats all.”

“I’m not saying you can’t.” He reassures you. “But there are healthy ways and unhealthy ways…” He starts to explains. “Ah.. Im not good at expressing these sorts of things..”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt. “I know, Jungkook. I’m handling it.”

He doesnt overstep much further, even as it pains him to watch you fall victim to the cycle.

-

From that point on you find he offers you alternatives more frequently. Instead of eating less, why don’t you work out with him? Just sometimes? You’ve got to remember to have at least one day without restrictions. But the excuses came flying faster than he could refute them, and he didn’t want to irritate you if it’s truly what you wanted.

Months of this pass. Its easier to forget to eat when he isn’t reminding you. Jimin comes over one night for food; nobody told you until you came home late from work. The smell of a homecooked meal alone made your body ache.

Jimin waves at you when you step into the kitchen. Your eyes are locked on the options scattered on the table.

“You hungry?” Jungkook is quick to jump on the opportunity. “Come sit. You can have some of mine.”

You put your hands out placatingly. “Its alright- I ate before I left work.” You lie through your teeth.

Jimin looks between the two of you, confused but.. catching on. “You sure? I can warm up whats left.”

You sit down for a drink instead; it doesnt go unnoticed by either of the boys.

-

Jimin had mentioned something before he left the house- even told you to care about your health. He knows; Jungkook cant possibly sit by and let his friends think hes okay with this.

You hear the door to your shared bedroom shut behind him as he takes in the sight or you changing into pajamas.

“—How many meals are you having a day?” He interrupts “since Ive been gone?”

His eyes are tracing the visible hip bones you’ve got, the way your hands tremble as you pull your pajama shirt down.

You freeze. This was awkward “Two, sometimes. enough, okay?”

He subconsciously does that tell where he presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek. You know he’s irritated. “Sometimes?” He repeats.

“Im sorry.” You reply, even if you aren’t. The last thing you wanted this to do was piss him off.

“No- no, I’m not.. mad at you.” He clarifies, bringing himself closer to comfort you. You look down as he does. “I’m not disappointed, honey, Im just nervous. This isn’t safe. You were a healthy weight before, and.. you still are … now, but what happens when this isn’t good enough?”

“It isn’t.” You reply, frustrated. “Im almost satisfied.”

He hugs you even when you don’t hug him back. “Please dont do this anymore. I love you, no matter what you look like.” He adds, his voice muffled by the way he’s got his face pressed against your skin. “Jimin was worried about you. Im worried about you. Who cares if your thighs touch or you carry a bit of fat? Seriously.”

“I care.” You insist. “I care, Jungkook. I want to look….” You cant even begin to define it. “If the girls you work with can look like that, I can too.”

“You cant be serious.” He sighs. “A lot of those girls are starving, baby. I dont want you to starve.” He frets. “They work out way more than they need to— it’s an impossible beauty standard and you.. you don’t need to. You’re perfect just how you are.”

You dont answer. Feelings blend together. Not eating has left you disoriented and irritable the last few days… you dont even know what you want, but youve already come so far.

Jungkook has to make the hard choice.

“Im inviting everyone over tomorrow for lunch and you’re going to eat.” He tries to stabilize his voice.

“No,” you refuse.

“I dont care. You will. Im staying with you as long as it takes because I love you. You understand?”

He lifts his head as he feels your shoulders tremble. It was upsetting you- he knew it was, but sometimes love meant looking after someone who cant look after themselves.

-

you had finally recovered. It took a lot of unlearning, a lot of habit breaking, and sometimes even days where he would make the same meal all week because its the only thing you would want to eat. He was patient, never once frustrated, and more than anything he never pushed you too hard. Everything was at your pace.

When the time was right, Jimin sent something in the mail. A letter, signed from all of the boys with a giftcard for your favorite restaurant. Jungkook had bought you something new to wear to celebrate, too.

we’re all proud of you for a strong recovery. wishing you happiness and health from now on. Love you, always - Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jungkook 🤍

“You know you’re beautiful right?” Jungkook reminds you, again, as you’re laid back on the couch reading the letter. He fits himself right on top of you, body wedged between your thighs as he rests his head on your chest. “The most beautiful girl in the world?”

“I know,” you reply, distracted.

“Do you?” He starts pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “Huh?”

“I know! You say it every day.” You repeat, flustered as he keeps going. “I heard you, you dont have to…”

He’s finally able to glance your way. Jungkook’s eyes are still wet, his fingers are trembling ever so slightly when he raises them to wipe his nose.

“You deserve to know… everything. How much you mean to me- I just,” he sighs. “I wish I could get the words out.”

“Take your time,” you insist. “Say it in as many words as it takes. Im not going anywhere, I want to listen.” You add. He leans on your shoulder; his hair tickles your skin slightly as he does so.

Jungkook pressed closer against your shoulder, his body shivering as struggled to compose himself. The tension in his frame remained coiled tight, like a spring wound too far.

"It's not that I don't feel it," he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. "It's that I feel it so intensely it scares me. Sometimes I look at you and I feel like I'm…. drowning in how much I need you." He finally pulled away just enough to meet your gaze properly. His dark, doe eyes were glassy, reflecting the light of the room.

"I feel like I'm failing you because I can't articulate the depth of it. I'm terrified that one day it will make you believe I'm indifferent. I’m… I’m not.”

He reached down, fumbling blindly until his fingers found yours. His grip was desperate. "I need you to understand that every time I'm quiet.. it's because I'm trying to process the fact that you’re everything. I can only give you pieces of myself because I'm too scared to show you how much power you actually have over me."

“Jungkook….” You manage, unsure what to say in the moment. “Im… flattered you feel that way, honey.”

You take his hand more firmly, trying to help him compose himself; youve never been one to bottle things up or stay silent, so this is very out of your wheelhouse.

Jungkook flinched slightly at your choice of words, the word 'flattered' seeming to land like a soft blow against his raw nerves. He wasn't looking for gratitude or politeness.

His thumb traced absent circles over your knuckles, trying to find peace in his anxious body.

"Flattered?" He repeated the word quietly, a self deprecating smile flickering across his lips before vanishing. "I don't want you to feel flattered. I want you to feel seen. I want you to feel the weight of it." His grip tightened fractionally, his palm warm and slightly damp against yours. "Nevermind. You don’t get it.”

“Im trying to understand, baby.” You reassure him yet again. “I hear you; the last thing I think you are is indifferent. I think you worry too much.”

He looks away briefly, wiping his eyes.

"I don't want to be someone you simply tolerate because I'm difficult," he whispered. “Im sorry.”

“You aren’t difficult!” You promise, moving to hold him. He crumbles into you. “You are not difficult Jungkook you are sensitive, and caring, and so— so incredibly sweet and I would do anything to make this..” you squeeze him. “This insecurity go away. You are enough.”

Jungkook let out a sound that was half sob, half gasp as he collapsed into your embrace, his forehead dropping against your body. Your words seem to pierce through the armor of his self doubt, leaving his emotions raw and exposed. He wrapped his arms around your waist with startling strength, clinging to you even as you wince. One of his hands tangles in the fabric of your shirt at your back, bunching it up between his white knuckled fingers. You let him cry until the shaking of his shoulders is replaced by a heavy, exhausted stillness.

"You say that so easily," he muffled against your neck, his voice thick, "Like it's something that can just be fixed with words. You’re sure that I’m enough even when I feel… like this?” He pauses.

You let him collect his thoughts once more.

“I want to be the man you see when you look at me."