Lots of Jungkook hurt/sick one shots. There will be many many triggers and I will put every trigger at the beginning of the chapters .
If you have requests , just text me and I'll write them as chapter .
My English isn't the best but I'll try to m...
This story includes trigger warning like anger issues.
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Jeon Jungkook had always been the golden maknae. That was his identity to ARMYs, to the public, and to his hyungs—the members of BTS. He was the youngest, the talented all-rounder, the one who could handle anything with that shining smile on his face. Whether it was high-pressure performances, last-minute choreography changes, or endless interviews, Jungkook made it look effortless.
But lately, a storm had begun to stir within him. The maknae had been feeling a growing intensity, a kind of restless anger that lurked just beneath his skin, ready to boil over at the slightest provocation. It was confusing, overwhelming, and above all, terrifying.
The other members had started to notice subtle changes in Jungkook's behavior. His smiles came less frequently, and even small things—like a misplaced water bottle or someone bumping into him accidentally during practice—would draw a reaction that was sharper than usual. Still, no one addressed it directly. Perhaps they thought he was just going through a rough patch, dealing with stress in his own way. After all, they had all been there at one point or another.
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Jungkook stared at his reflection in the gym's mirrored wall, sweat dripping from his forehead, and knuckles red from pounding the punching bag. The dull thud of his fists connecting with the heavy bag was the only thing that filled the otherwise empty training room. It was late—well past midnight—and the dorm was silent, with the other members long asleep.
He should be, too. He should be resting, conserving his energy for tomorrow's schedule: rehearsals, meetings, and another performance. The routine that had once felt so thrilling, like a dream come true, now felt suffocating. He punched the bag again, harder, this time letting out a frustrated yell.
Why was he angry?
Jungkook wasn't entirely sure. Or maybe he just didn't want to admit it. Maybe it was the growing pressure of fame, the unending expectation to be perfect, the demands from fans, management, and even from himself to be flawless. The weight of it all felt like a knot that twisted inside him, an inescapable pressure that seemed to grow tighter each day. He thought he could manage it. He had always managed it. But lately, it had begun to slip—like a dam threatening to break.
"Still at it?"
The voice startled Jungkook, and he stopped mid-punch. He turned to see Namjoon standing at the door, arms crossed, a look of concern on his face. His hyung was wearing a simple t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair messy from sleep.
"Hyung..." Jungkook panted, dropping his hands to his sides. "Sorry, did I wake you?"
Namjoon walked closer, leaning against the wall, looking Jungkook up and down. "You didn't wake me. I was getting some water and heard... something. You okay, Kook?"
