𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝟒 | fin.

jungkook - request (pt 7)

THE BANGTAN BUNCH

BUNNY DOWN; JUNGKOOK

"Mi Soo-ah, you mean the world to me."

"If that really was the case then you would've been home with me, not out with her!"

You gasp, the ice cream piled onto your spoon slipping off messily as you stare, wide-eyed, at your screen in fascination. The credits roll to the tune of the oddly catchy OST and, as you hum contently along, you can't help but commend yourself for making it through yet another week of school just to sit at home on a Saturday night and binge watch the newest drama with whatever confectionary item Yoongi stocked up on.

You go to scoop another spoon of ice cream into your mouth but your phone rings, jolting you to action as you pause the show and lift your phone up to see Jungkook's name lighting up your screen. Excited, you click the call to life and greet your older brother cheerfully, "Hey, oppa! How's work?"

As a policeman, Jungkook always has his fair share of entertaining stories and, almost every afternoon, you get a phone call from him to discuss the day's events before he comes home to fill you in on the rest of the story. Frankly, it's the most exciting part of your day.

"Y/N, sweetheart," is all he says but your blood runs cold at how strained his usually light and calming voice is and how he has to take several breaths after speaking.

"Kookie, what happened? Are you okay?" you rush in a panic, not even sure if your words are coming out in full sentences. He hisses on the other end of the line and you hope that it's not in pain but even you can tell from the groan that follows that something is wrong.

"I need you to stay calm, okay?" he breathes heavily, waiting for you to reply as you tremble on the couch. When you hum softly, he continues, "I got shot on my mission today and I need you down at the hospital."

"What?" you exclaim in fear, rushing to grab your jacket and the keys to Jimin's car, thankful that he left it behind today to walk to work.

"Shush," he whimpers, "just hurry up, please."

"Did you call the others?" you ask while locking the door behind you, close to crying and having a breakdown in the middle of your driveway. It'll kill you if Jungkook is hurt badly and you know that it's going to kill him too, having to miss out on work for a few weeks or maybe even forever but you force those thoughts out of your mind as he takes his time in answering.

"No!" he yells, clearing his throat before it softens into something a little more gentle, "Don't call them. I don't want to worry anyone."

"Jinnie is going to kill you," you stress, unlocking the car frantically, "and then me."

He sighs in something you can't quite decipher before asking you to hurry and hanging up the phone.

*

You barrel through the lengthy halls of the busy hospital until you collide into the broad chest of Jungkook's boss, Sergeant Choi, gasping as he grabs onto your shoulders to keep you upright. Despite not having fallen backwards, your lungs still ache with a need for air.

Luckily, Choi picks up on this and offers you an empathetic smile. "Calm down, Y/N. Keep breathing, Jungkook is fine."

You follow his instructions and find yourself slowly feeling the weight crushing at your chest fade away. He looks down at you expectantly as you look towards the door, "Can I go see him?"

The cop nods and folds his arms across his chest as he watches you walk in with a fond smile tugging at his lips.

The very second you enter, Jungkook sits himself up straight, offers you a sweet wave and a grin that reads he's fine and doesn't want you to get mad at him. You stand in the doorway of the room, afraid to approach him but also afraid of just standing there so you take slow, careful steps towards his bed before breaking out into a jog.

He catches you in his arms with a grunt, chuckling habitually as you cry softly in his arms. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm okay."

Then, as if his words flicked a switch inside of you, you push yourself off him with a scowl, angrily—and quite weakly because, if you must admit it, you do feel sorry for your usually safe older brother—slap his forearm. "Stupid, stupid! I nearly had a heart attack at eighteen because of you!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he begs, raising one arm over his head in a lousy attempt to deflect your blows, unable to stop a hearty laugh from bubbling out of his mouth. You eventually give in to his pleads and huff, rolling your eyes when he shifts over and pats the space next to him. He can only beam when you take a seat and cuddle into his side as if it's only natural for you to do so when beside him.

"So what happened?" you ask gently, stroking his knuckles, frowning at the odd purple shade of them.

"Your usual robbery," he sighs as if getting shot is a regular Saturday for him and you can't help but roll your eyes at his need to boast. "The guy clipped me on the shoulder but the doctor stitched up pretty good and said I need to rest for a few weeks."

"Okay," you breathe in relief of the fact that he'll be as good as new over the next few weeks, "but why won't you call the others? What are you going to tell them about taking a few weeks off work?"

"I don't need them worrying about me more than they already do," he explains, keeping his gaze focused on the way your thumb circles the knuckle of his index finger. "They're all super busy with work and I don't want to be the one to add onto their stress."

"All fair points," you nod slowly, pausing to just tap against his hand, "but imagine how bad they'll feel if they find out about this and know that you purposely didn't call them. You're not a burden or a source of stress on any of them and it's normal for us to be worried about each other. That's what a family does."

"Would they be mad?" he pouts, looking over at with eyes that make it hard to believe that you're the younger one.

"No, of course not," you reassure, humming before snapping your fingers. "If it's worrying you, I can call them."

He nods eagerly at your suggestion and practically throws his phone at you, clapping encouragingly as you make your way to the front door, softly giggling when you turn back around to kiss his head and then run off.

"How did it go?" he pipes up anxiously a few seconds after your return, thanking you quietly when you hand his phone back to him.

"Pretty well," you beam, clasping your hands together in front of you. "They were all worried but I explained to them that you'll be back at work in a few weeks so they calmed down a bit. They'll be here with dinner in a few minutes."

He dramatically presses a hand to his chest in relief of your response but the look only makes it so much easier for you to laugh in his face, his smile still intact despite the look of confusion that clouds his eyes, "What's so funny?"

"You are so getting babied in about ten minutes."

And, as if your words were like bullets, Jungkook looked as if he had been shot all over again.