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 warnings like panic attack , mention of self harm
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Jeon Jungkook sat on the cold wooden floor of his childhood room, his chest heaving, each breath escaping him in jagged gasps. His vision was blurred with tears that refused to stop, and his trembling hands struggled to hold the phone, tapping at the screen with frantic desperation. He had tried calling them—one by one, each name on his contact list, each person who could save him from this storm.
Namjoon-hyung, Jin-hyung, Yoongi-hyung, Hoseok-hyung, Jiminie, Taehyungie—he had dialed each name, his fingers shaking as he pressed call after call. But there was no answer. The ring tones had echoed through the silent room, taunting him, each one falling away into the emptiness of voicemail. He had hoped that just hearing their voices, any of them, would pull him away from the panic tightening around his chest like a vice.
But he was alone.
The walls of his childhood room, once a refuge, now felt like they were closing in on him, trapping him with memories that clawed at his mind. Posters of his favorite artists still hung on the walls, a dusty trophy from a long-forgotten talent show sat on the shelf, and the bed was neatly made, but it all felt foreign. This place, the house he had grown up in, no longer felt like home.
His body shook as he struggled to get air into his lungs. The sound of his parents' voices downstairs seemed to be growing louder, each word laced with anger and resentment, each sentence slicing through the thin layer of composure he had left. His father's voice boomed, his mother's cries following, both of them so wrapped up in their fight that they didn't even notice what was happening upstairs. Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it all out. But it was impossible—their words seemed to seep into his very soul, the echoes of years of pain and fear crashing over him.
"Please..." he whimpered, his voice barely audible. He hugged his knees to his chest, curling up into the corner of the room. "Please, just stop."
But the argument continued, his father's accusations, his mother's tearful replies—back and forth, relentless. This had always been how it was, as far back as Jungkook could remember. The shouting, the crashing sounds, the rage that filled every inch of this house, until there was no space left for anything else.
He was supposed to be past this. He had left this house, moved to Seoul, built a life for himself surrounded by people who loved him. He had escaped. Or at least, he had thought he had. But now he was back, blade laying beside him , and it was like all the progress he had made was crumbling, the scared little boy he had once been clawing its way to the surface.
His phone buzzed weakly beside him, pulling him from his spiraling thoughts. His heart jumped, a spark of hope igniting as he scrambled for it, praying it was one of his hyungs. He looked at the screen, tears blurring his vision, and saw a message notification.
Taehyungie-hyung:"Kook? What's going on? Are you okay?"
A sob broke from his throat, his body shaking with the force of it. He tried to type a response, but his hands wouldn't stop trembling, his bloody fingers stumbling over the keys. He couldn't do it. Before he could even try to correct the garbled message he'd typed, his phone began to ring, and Taehyung's name flashed on the screen. Jungkook answered it instantly, pressing the phone to his ear, his voice cracking as he tried to speak.
