bts x jungkook oneshots <3

⚠️swallow - jungkook solo

short vent fic as per usual.

idk what this is.

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99, 100, 101, 102, 103.

jungkook finishes counting up the pills that he's been keeping in a sock underneath his bed. he decided to stop taking his meds two months ago- however the it hasn't been easy; because he has to be supervised whilst taking them. he has only recently mastered the art of 'half swallowing' them so that it looks like there's nothing there, when there actually is. after mum has "ensured" that the tablets gone (by having him open his mouth as wide as possible and lifting his tongue up) , jungkook is free to go. as soon as she looks away, he coughs once, and the pills regurgitate back into his mouth. this then allows him to spit them into his hand and then shove them into his pocket.

once back in his bedroom, he shoves them in the sock. he takes two a day, and like i said before it's now been two months , so there's just over a hundred there. he's misplaced a couple somehow, but there's definitely still plenty there.

for ... what?

because he's not interested in killing himself.

at least not right now.

there's too much shit going on at home. it would be the breaking point in his parents marriage, would make his brother start doing drugs again - and would make his sister have another nervous breakdown.

so yeah, suicide is off the table for now.

he's not 100% sure why he even began stockpiling the pills in the first place.

maybe it just seemed a shame to bin them. or maybe because it was too risky. after all, that's how he was caught last time. dad found the pills in the bin after jungkook had spat them out. which is why he now had to be supervised when taking them, too bad jungkook has found a way around that too.

so .. why has he stopped taking them?

the answer is simple really.

to feel something.

whilst on these pills, the days are dark. empty. boring. bleak. one note. flat. dull. unexciting.

fucking dreadful.

when he's off them, he's free to feel all the emotions he is physically capable of.

anger. sadness. stress. sadness. pain.

he's finally able to cry until there's no tears left. to scream until his throat is raw. to punch walls. to pull his hair out. to hurt himself.

the first two weeks are always the best. because that's when the withdrawal hits you the hardest. not only to you get the sadness and the anger, you get the sickness cocktail that will have you bending over a toilet for hours and clutching your head so hard you could crack your skull.

he stares at the pills infront of him. he has a big decision to make. it's been two months now, so the withdrawal has mostly worn off, and now the pill free life is his new normal. so, does he keep going this way - continuing to stash his pills - or does he start taking them again, so that he can restart the cycle in a few months time?

both options are tempting, they both have pros and cons - but his main drawback with continuing to spit them out is that he is eventually going to get caught, which almost tore the family apart last time, so that's always weighing in his mind.

although, part of him wished they knew. like, "hey mum - i'm not getting any better, im actually getting a lot fucking worse. did you know i've been spitting my pills out? or did i manage to trick you again?"

"maybe she knows i've been lying, but she doesn't care."

that's another symptom of withdrawal. mania.

he think's everything and everyone is after him. his walls are taking shit about him. his shoes are spreading rumours about him. they all hate him. they all want him gone.

he takes a deep breath before putting the sock back under his bed. he turns the light off and slips into his bed. he stares at the ceiling for god knows how long before he eventually falls asleep, his options swirling around in his mind the whole time.

the next day he sits at the dining table, poking at his fried eggs, only having eaten one mouthful. he  eventually pushes the plate away and stands to leave for work. mum pulls him aside and hands him his meds and a glass of water. she smiles.

jungkook takes the pills. she checks his mouth. she kisses his cheek. he leaves the house.

once safely round the corner, he coughs - then spits the pills into his hands.

a few more weeks can't hurt.

well, they can.

but that's the point.

-end-

i fuCKING HATE MY MEDICATION i'll take them tomorrow i swear. bredjsjsjbdjsjs

800 ish words i think

love ya see ya soon hopefully

ej