Jungkook Oneshots

Unraveled

                                 
                            "𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘳,
                                                             𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴." 

The dull thud of a body hitting the ground echoed through the alley beside the school gym. Jungkook stood over the crumpled figure of a guy, his knuckles bloodied and raw, his breathing calm despite the chaos he had just unleashed.

"Don't make me say it again," Jungkook growled, his voice low and dangerous. His black school blazer was slightly askew, his white shirt smeared with dirt and blood. The guy on the ground whimpered, clutching his ribs, his face pale with fear.

"I-I didn't mean to—" the guy stammered, his words cut off by Jungkook's glare.

"Save it," Jungkook interrupted coldly, taking a step closer. His jaw clenched, and his dark eyes bore into the guy's trembling form. "You were warned. You knew what would happen if you pulled that stunt again."

He crouched slightly, his lips curling into a smirk that sent chills down the other's spine. "Suffer," he whispered, the single word carrying a weight that felt suffocating.

With that, Jungkook straightened, brushing off his blazer like nothing had happened. He grabbed his school bag from the ground, slinging it over his shoulder, and turned to leave. He didn't spare a glance back at the guy, who was too terrified to move.

The rooftop was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos he'd left behind. Jungkook pushed open the metal door and stepped into the open air. The late afternoon breeze brushed against his face as he walked to the edge, leaning on the railing.

He pulled a crumpled tissue from his pocket, wiping the blood from his split lip. His movements were slow, calculated, as though he had all the time in the world. His jaw tightened, the muscles flexing as he stared out at the sprawling city beyond the school grounds.

"What a waste of time," he muttered under his breath, tossing the tissue aside. His fingers briefly hovered over his knuckles, stained with the remnants of the fight.

He clenched his fists, feeling the sting of his raw skin, but it didn't bother him. Pain was familiar—almost comforting. It reminded him that he was still standing, still in control.

The sound of the rooftop door creaking open behind him barely registered. He didn't turn around. Whoever it was, they could leave or stay. It didn't matter to him.

At least, that's what he thought.

"Rooftop, bloody knuckles, and a brooding stare? Very bad boy of you," your voice chimed, light and teasing.

Jungkook's brow twitched, his grip on the railing tightening. He turned his head slightly, just enough to see you standing there, a faint smirk playing on your lips. Your blazer hung casually over your shoulder, and you carried an air of confidence that made the tension in the air feel irrelevant.

"What do you want?" he asked flatly, his tone sharp enough to cut.

You shrugged, your smirk growing. "What makes you think I want something? Maybe I just enjoy a good view," you said, stepping closer and resting your hands on the railing beside him. Your gaze flitted to his bloodied knuckles, then back to his face. "Looks like you've been busy, though. Should I be concerned?"

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "You shouldn't even be up here. Go bother someone else."

"Bother someone else?" you repeated, chuckling as if his annoyance only fueled your amusement. "Nah, I've decided."