TWISTED LOVE JEON JUNGKOOK X (READER) {Complete}

Y/N

Every year, my family gave Thanksgiving a Chinese twist, swapping turkey and mashed potatoes for roast duck, rice, dumplings, and fish cake soup. This year's spread was identical in deliciousness, but the atmosphere? Drastically different. Taehyung 's absence plunged our dinner into two hours of oppressive silence punctuated only by the occasional exchange about football or work between Jungkook and my dad. My father seemed on edge—more irritable than usual—likely due to some office trouble.

I had this nagging feeling that Dad harbored reservations about Jungkook , which was unexpected; Dad usually favored the intellectually gifted, and Jungkook certainly fit that profile. But maybe it was Jungkook's indifference to playing the flatterer as per Chinese parental expectation, or perhaps Dad had sensed the tension between me and Jungkook—he was silent on such speculations.

"He knows," I murmured once Dad stepped away to the restroom.

"He doesn't," Jungkook countered calmly. "And if he suspects anything, he lacks proof and won't confront Taehyung. Just relax; you're supposed to be off duty this weekend."

"Weekends off are a myth for students," I retorted with a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. Finals loomed close, and my fellowship application hung incomplete—a personal statement shy of finality. Secretly, I'd tucked photos of Jungkook into my portfolio; photos that showcased some of my finest captures. Still, I withheld this revelation from him until I received word from the WYP committee— superstition trumping pride.

"It's a shame we aren't sharing a room," Jungkook said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "I could've been your stress antidote."

Laughing at his implication, I teased back, "Is stress relief all you ever have on your mind?"

Except I had my own reasons for wanting Jungkook nearby—especially in this house, where my nightmares seemed more vivid. However, my father remained unaware of our relationship, so Jungkook was relegated to the guest room.

"Only when I'm around you," Jungkook would say, now more carefree than ever. His laughter came more readily, his smile more frequent. In my heart, I knew that I played a role in his newfound lightness. Our lessons continued—he, guiding me through the calm of the water as my swimming improved, and I showing him that even someone as seemingly invincible as he could benefit from gentle care.

"Jeon Jungkook, when did you become so cheesy?" I teased him with a laugh.

Despite our playfulness, we had to remain cautious; my father's suspicions were clear. A playful growl from Jungkook was cut short by my father's return to the dining room. We kept our distance for the remainder of the evening, but my dad's raised eyebrows spoke volumes—he knew.

The chokehold of a dream turned violent clutched at my throat until tears and snot obscured my vision—I was dying, slipping away...

Jolting awake to a room too real, no intruder lurked within; it was only a dream—one unlike the ones that usually haunted me—but it left an unease deep within me. These weren't ordinary dreams; they were echoes of past horrors.

I found myself struggling with these nocturnal terrors more profoundly at home, perhaps triggered by the nearby lake—a haunting reminder of my mother's home before her death.

Lakes seemed ingrained in our family legacy—a fact I wished could be forgotten.

Staring at the digital clock displaying 4:44 a.m. for yet another unsettling morning, an instinctive dread overtook me. I craved the refuge found in Jungkook's embrace; there was solace in his arms through each tumultuous night. His insomnia—while unfortunate—meant he was my vigilant keeper from dusk till dawn. Guilt mingled with gratitude for his sleepless protection.

Although he might have been awake, I convinced myself to remain still, just in case he was still sleeping. I couldn’t bear the thought of interrupting his scant few hours of rest.

Retreating beneath my covers, I endeavored to sleep again. Yet, an unyielding itch pervaded my skin and an inexplicable pull seemed to beckon from beyond the confines of the house. Despite resistance, the urge intensified as night gave way to the morning light.

By 7:02 a.m., rising seemed more appropriate than it did at 4:44 a.m.

I donned a sweatshirt and yoga pants, slipped my feet into fluffy boots, and crept silently toward the back door. The daybreak greeted me with its fresh and crisp scent, while a delicate mist veiled the lake in an aura of intrigue.

The itch on my skin grew stronger as did the mysterious call.

I made my way toward the lakeside over the gravel pathway that led to my father's beloved barbecue area. Morning dew glistened on the unoccupied wooden furniture; even the charcoal grill seemed desolate, abandoned until summer’s festivities beckoned it anew.

My breath fogged in the chilled air. It was unexpectedly cold, yet that did not halt my progress until I stood at the water's edge, earthy aromas rising up around me.

This was my maiden journey to the lake’s verge.

As a child, fear had confined me to no further than our barbecue site—often so overwhelmed by anxiety during gatherings that I’d escape to solitude for relief.

The lure of the lake this morning was indefinable; it surrounded me with an alluring hum as though eager to share a secretive whisper meant for my ears alone.

Since learning to swim with Jungkook, I had made peace with water, yet apprehension still coiled within me at the sight of its hidden depths.

I reassured myself – deep breaths; you’re safe on dry land; the lake won’t claim you—

The sudden blare of a car alarm shattered my composure, dredging up nightmares into daylight’s reality.

Absentmindedly picking up another smooth and ideally flat stone—destined to create lovely ripples—I wound back for a throw. However, a sweet and floral scent filled my senses—Mom's perfume—and in that moment of elation, my focus faltered.

Though my aim misfired and the stone only thudded ineffectively onto soil rather than water, it mattered little. Mom had returned! Reunited, we could embrace playtime once again.

I turned with a broad, gap-toothed smile, but it faltered as an unexpected push sent me reeling. Tumbling down towards the water's edge, my scream dissolved into the roar of the rushing water below. “Y/N?” The worry in my father's voice broke through my stupor. “What are you doing out here?”

Momentarily disoriented, I remembered—his steadfast morning ritual of exercise, performed without fail come rain or shine; a devotion to routine.

Desperately, I tried to dispel the haunting images that surged through my mind—echoes of past nightmares colliding with fresh revelations.

No. No nononononono—this couldn't be happening.

But then, the glint of my father’s gold signet ring caught the sunlight, revealing his familiar features.

And I let out an involuntary scream.

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(Hello there I'm really sorry for late updating actually I'm really busy and my exams are going to start so i have no time for writing i hope you understand 🥲)

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