'Tis The Damn Season — JJK +18 — CH: 1
Jungkook has just returned from military service, back in Busan, where you’re finishing your orthopedic residency. After nearly a decade apart, you cross paths again. But he’s no longer the teenager chasing his dream of making his group famous, he’s now one of the most well-known idols in the country. And you’ve learned how to live without him. Or at least, that’s what you thought.
total word count (this chapter): 5,1k words
pairing: idol!jeon jungkook x reader (f)
rating: 18+
status: on going
warnings (this chapter): strong language, alcohol use, underage drinking, references to depression & burnout, long-distance relationship struggles, jealousy, public vs private identity, heartbreak, emotional trauma, break-up themes.
a.n: This story has lived in my heart since before they even returned from military service. I envisioned it from the very beginning, and now that it’s finally complete, I can truly start sharing it. I’ve created moments that don’t necessarily follow BTS’s real timeline. Whether during training, debut, or post-service, ‘cause this is a work of fiction. Some details won’t match reality, and that’s intentional: the characters may be inspired by real people, but they aren’t bound to their real lives. This story is, above all, fiction.
Index of Chapters || next
Busan, 2012
Jungkook’s family home always had the distinct scent of cinnamon. His mother loved baking in her free time, making small cinnamon treats for their Family and for you. That scent had become something of a signature that reminded you of warmth, of comfort, of home. You felt that arriving at his house was like that warm hug at the end of a tiring day. That feeling of comfort you never wanted to let go of. It was good, peaceful, warm, full of tenderness.
In fact, his house felt that way because of his family. The living room constantly echoed with laughter, his mom always made sure you were eating, staying healthy, and had time and the right mindset to study. And on those days of extraordinary exhaustion, there were the special cinnamon buns. They came with a generous layer of custard cream that she made. You loved them so much that you spent so much time there that you barely remembered what your own house smelled like. But then again, your home was different. Your parentes, both doctors, worked tirelessly, leaving the house cold, quiet, and lonely. Jungkook’s house was never like that. It was always warm and welcoming, full of life, full of love. And you loved being there. Those were your best days.
But that night was not one of them.
It was too cold, even for Busan’s winter. Just a week ago, it had been Jungkook’s mother’s birthday, but somehow, you were the one who received a gift from him too, a silver compass necklace. Now, you held it tightly against your chest, the metal cool against your skin. The air was sharp, biting at your exposed skin, but you knew Jungkook barely felt it. His dark hair hardly moved in the wind, and his eyes, those expressive, deep eyes, were wide open, focused, and filled with something. Even with your thick, padded gloves, your hands trembled slightly. Maybe because you already knew how this conversation would go.
You looked at him, trying to memorize him, the soft golden hue of his skin, paler than usual under the streetlights, the curve of his lips pressed together in hesitation, the slight redness at the tip of his nose from the chilly air. But most of all, you noticed the sadness in his eyes. You had seen it there for days now. And he had been hiding it, badly. He was never a good liar.
So, with a deep, shaky breath, you gathered the courage he couldn’t seem to find and whispered:
“How long have you known?”
His shoulders tensed slightly, but there was no confusion in his gaze. He knew exactly what you were asking. He let out a sigh, his breath forming a mist in the cold air.
“Since my mom’s birthday,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
You shut your eyes tightly for a second, inhaling sharply.
“Do you really have to go?” Your voice was soft, fragile, almost pleading. It was a stupid question. You already knew the answer.
Jungkook swallowed hard. This was his dream. The one he had talked about since you were kids. Since you were eleven, sitting on the school rooftop, listening to him ramble about music, about performing, about one day standing on stage. He had worked so hard for this moment, gone through so much. You had always known this day would come.
“You know I do.” His voice cracked slightly, and you saw the tears glistening in his eyes. His fingers twitched at his sides before clenching into fists. “This is my chance. I need to take it.”
Your chest tightened painfully. You had prepared for this, tried to ready yourself for this exact moment, but nothing could have prepared you for how much it actually hurt.
You nodded, pressing your gloved finger under your eye to stop a tear from falling, not that it made any difference.
“I know.” Your voice barely made it past your lips. “I just don’t know… how to do this without you.”
Jungkook let out a shaky breath before stepping forward, reaching for your hand. His bare fingers found yours despite the layers between you, and he squeezed tightly, pulling you closer.
“We’ll figure it out. We always do.” His voice was stronger now, hopefull. “And when the time comes, you’ll move to Seoul for university, and we’ll finally be together again.” His lips curled into a small smile, the one that had always been your favorite.
You stared into his eyes, trying to hold onto those words, trying to believe in them.
“We’ll be together forever?” Your tears had long since escaped, but you didn’t care anymore.
Jungkook didn’t hesitate.
“Forever.”
Busan, 2013
Jungkook had joked that your birthday present this year would be seeing him debut. You had laughed, feeling genuinely happy for him. But you missed him, the way he hugged you, the way he held your hand, the way he looked at you when no one else was around. Long-distance relationships were hard. You knew that. But you were willing to fight for this, for him. It had already been a year since he left for Seoul, and soon, you would follow. You just had to wait a little longer.
In the meantime, you found ways to fill the void. You buried yourself in schoolwork, stayed up late reading, and became the top student in your class. Jungkook was just as busy, training for hours on end, pushing himself beyond his limits. But despite everything, you still talked all the time.
Always, past midnight, your phone rang.
Jungkook’s voice was quiet, hushed as he spoke from the dormitory bathroom. He didn’t want to wake his bandmates, his new family, as he often called them.
“I fell asleep in class again today,” you mumbled sleepily, yawning into the phone.
“You need to sleep more, dummy.” Jungkook chuckled softly. “You work too hard.”
“Says the guy who spends twelve hours a day dancing,” you teased.
He sighed on the other end of the line, and you immediately caught the shift in his tone.
“What’s wrong?” you asked.
There was a pause, a long silence that made your stomach twist. Then, finally, he murmured.
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Jungkook…” Your heart clenched.
“Everyone here is so good,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “And they keep telling me I need to break out of my shell, to stop being so shy. I...“ He hesitated. “What if I’m not good enough?”
Your grip on the phone tightened.
“You are good enough,” you said firmly, without hesitation. “You were born for this, Jungkook. And you’re going to make it. I promise.”
You had never, not for a single moment, doubted that Jungkook would achieve his dream. You saw potential in him and knew that if the company hadn’t seen it too, they would never have given him that chance. And one year was far too little time for a teenager to adjust to that exhausting routine, and you knew that. You also knew that Jungkook had developed the habit of doubting himself due to the pressure from all the training before debuting, so you always reassured him as many times as necessary. Because you, sometimes even more than he did, believed in it and wanted him to succeed. And even though you couldn’t see him, you knew he was smiling.
Busan, 2014
Since Jungkook had debuted, you had only seen him once, on Christmas. And it was starting to frustrate you. You still visited his house often because his mother missed him terribly, and having you around was a small comfort for her, a tiny way to fill the void his absence left. You didn’t mind. In fact, you liked it. You had always found more support and warmth in Jungkook’s parents than in your own, who were cold, distant, and hardly ever home. The distance had become normal, but being with his parents felt like being close to him too, even when things between you and Jungkook had started to feel… different.
It had been two years since he had left Busan to become a trainee. You knew he was working tirelessly to give BTS a fighting chance in the brutal, unforgiving entertainment industry. Meanwhile, you hadn’t done as well on your college entrance exams as you had hoped. It weighed on you heavily.
Jungkook’s calls had become rare, and sometimes, the only messages you exchanged were a simple good morning and good night. You knew he was giving his all, pushing himself, but all you wanted was your boyfriend back.
Now, he was here. His lips pressed against yours in a long, lingering kiss. It was nearly winter again, and you were on the balcony of his bedroom. His parents had already gone to sleep, so you had quietly closed the door and stolen a bottle of wine from his mother’s personal stash. Now, the bottle was empty, forgotten beside you, and Jungkook’s head rested on your shoulder as he trailed lazy, wine-flavored kisses down your neck.
“I need to tell you something.” You finally gathered the courage to speak, unsure if it was the wine or the way his kisses sent shivers down your spine that made you brave enough.
“Hmm?” He hummed, his lips still grazing your skin, his tongue teasingly flicking against it.
“I’m serious.”
He stopped abruptly. His brows furrowed as he turned to look at you.
“What happened?”
You took a deep breath, deciding to rip the bandage off quickly.
“I didn’t get into Seoul National University.” His face softened instantly. His lips parted slightly as if he wanted to comfort you, but you weren’t finished yet. “Or Korea University.” You shut your eyes and took a deep, long breath. “But I did get into POSTECH.”
Jungkook blinked, processing your words. Then, suddenly, his face lit up, and before you could react, he was grinning, wrapping his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground, and spinning you in a full circle. He kissed you, deep and lingering, before pulling away to beam at you.
“Congratulations, princess.”
Your stomach twisted at his reaction. He hadn’t realized what this meant. Not yet. And, once again, it was up to you to spell it out for him.
“Jungkook… you know what this means, right?” You stared into his dark eyes. His grin didn’t fade.
“That you’re a freaking genius.”
You swallowed hard.
“That I’m moving to Pohang.”
His smile vanished instantly.
“What?”
“Yeah.”
“And Seoul?” His voice was quieter now, as if he was still trying to understand.
You exhaled.
“I didn’t get into any universities there. Pohang is an amazing school, and it’s still somewhat close to Busan.” You lowered your head, feeling tears sting your eyes. “I’m sorry, babe. I failed at writing the future we planned.” Your voice broke, and the weight of your disappointment crushed you. Your chest tightened painfully, and shame crept up your spine. You didn’t dare look at him.
Jungkook had worked so hard, had come so far. And you had spent years planning a future with him, and now, because of your own incompetence, that plan had crumbled. A sob tore from your throat before you could hold it back, and suddenly, Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his warmth. His lips pressed against the top of your head in a gentle kiss.
“You didn’t fail.” His voice was soft, steady, but firm. He held you tightly, as if willing you to believe him. “We’ll figure it out, even with you in Pohang.”
Finally, you lifted your head to look at him.
“Are you sure?” Your voice trembled, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks.
Jungkook’s own eyes glistened as he gave you a small, reassuring smile.
“I’m sure.”
Pohang, 2015
You were at a college party, drunk. Completely drunk. Dancing with your best friend from university, Leah, you felt radiant. She was brilliant, magnetic, and you were genuinely happy. The alcohol played a part in how outgoing and cheerful you felt, but you didn’t mind.
Summer break was approaching fast, and you were excited to go home. College had been exhausting, draining every ounce of energy from you. Despite everything, all you wanted was a few days to sleep, free of responsibilities, no classes, no club activities you had foolishly thought you could handle all at once.
The university frat house had set up a huge screen in the living room. Bright, colorful lights illuminated the space, and the furniture had been pushed to the corners, leaving a wide-open area for dancing. In one hand, you held a bottle of soju, and in the other, Leah’s fingers were intertwined with yours. A group of dorm friends surrounded you, the air buzzing with excitement.
Then, a familiar melody reached your ears.
Your body moved on instinct, turning toward the screen, where the face of Kim Namjoon, one of Jungkook’s bandmates, appeared. Your entire body stiffened, your smile fadded and you abruptly let go of Leah’s hand.
Of course, you had seen BTS content before, posters, music playing in stores, random clips online. But seeing it here, projected onto a screen at a fraternity party, was diferent. The next face to appear was Jungkook.
Your heart lurched in your chest as his voice filled the room. You held your breath.
Leah chuckled, watching your reaction.
“You like BTS, right?” she asked, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “I love this song.” She hummed along. “Dope.”
You didn’t answer and distanced yourself a bit from her, who didn’t care and stared to dance to the song. You stared at the music video like you were seeing it for the first time, even though you had watched it before. It was a new song. You used to play some music in your headphones while studying. Rarely did you ever let it play loudly. You knew BTS was growing in fame, but at the same time, somewhere deep in your chest, they felt like your little secret, so you didn’t talk much about them. With anyone. You couldn’t. Because of a contract. Not even when you snuck out to one of their concerts in the middle of the night and felt a little pathetic. But you knew some things and situations were bigger than you, so you sort of knew that all that was left was to accept that certain things were what they were, and that was the end of it. But you avoided the topic because you didn’t know how far you could carry the lie or the omission that you were dating one of the members of BTS.
You loved Jungkook, but you hated every second of that secret. Even though Jungkook tried to make it seem like a oath rather than a secret. Which usually worked every time you weren’t angry about the fact. Those moments, however, were becoming rare now, as your frustration bubbled in your chest, about to explode. Like in that moment. You were grinding your teeth without even realizing it.
“That one in the police uniform is hot.” Leah remarked, nodding toward the screen.
You turned to look at her, studying her face for a moment. You wanted to shout that he was your boyfriend, and you felt a pang of jealousy knowing that so many people were eyeing him, and he had to seem available to them. Even though it was all just an illusion, it was something he had to do. You bit your lower lip, trying to hold back the overwhelming urge to throw caution to the wind and spill the entire truth to your best friend.
An idol’s personal life wasn’t something the company liked to make public, especially not a relationship with an ordinary person, a mere college student. You and Jungkook had to hide. He and the other members had to be seen as desirable. That was the image the industry demanded. Personal relationships only brought scandals, and you knew that he had signed a contract ensuring he wouldn’t make anything public.
BigHit knew about you, though. You had even visited the company twice before, and the members had always been incredibly kind to you. But seeing Jungkook there, on the screen, singing, dancing, while surrounded by college friends who had no clue about your relationship was surreal.
This was the person you loved. The person you had promised a future with. But on that screen, he looked like just another untouchable celebrity.
Phone calls had become rare. Plans to meet always got postponed because of the band’s schedule. You barely even remembered what it felt like to be alone with him.
The sudden weight of reality hit you. You needed to get out of there. Abandoning your soju bottle on a random table, you rushed to the bathroom, not caring about Leah’s confusion when she called your name and tried to follow you. You locked the door behind you. Leaning over the sink, you stared at your reflection, your eyes red, cheeks flushed, and tears threatening to spill over. Your chest ached. And deep down, you knew what your mind was screaming at you: this wasn’t going to last much longer.
You sobbed into your hands, the sound of Dope muffled by the bathroom walls. It felt as if there were two Jungkooks: BTS’s Jungkook and your Jungkook and they existed in completely different universes. And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t belong in his universe anymore.
You lied to your college friends every day, pretending you didn’t have a boyfriend. And, most of the time, it really didn’t feel like you did. His absence was overwhelming. You had even heard rumors once, people speculating that you were into girls because, despite being theoretically single, you rejected every guy who approached you. You handled it the best you could, but it was becoming unbearable. With trembling fingers and blurry vision, you pulled out your phone. You dialed Jungkook’s number. Once. Twice. No answer.
So you typed: jungkook, are we fooling ourselves? i feel like im holding onto something that’s slipping through my fingers. and i don’t know if you even have the time to catch it anymore.
He never responded. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t know how.
Busan, 2016
The last time you saw Jungkook was at the end of summer break. He was at the train station during one of his rare visits home. BTS was getting more well-known, but at that hour, the station was relatively quiet. A few staff members from his company were with him, he was rarely alone now, as they had grown far bigger than anyone had imagined.
As soon as he appeared, you made sure he saw you before turning and walking toward the parking lot. You had arranged to pick him up there. You knew he would dismiss his staff, who would stay nearby to film some content for, who knows what. They recorded everything about the boys' lives. Not at that exact moment, but later, at some point. You rolled your eyes, exhausted by it all.
The car doors were already unlocked. His staff placed his luggage in the trunk and quickly said their goodbyes before Jungkook slid into the passenger seat. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. His hair was a shade of honey. Beautiful. Familiar. He smelled amazing. But he didn’t kiss you when he got in. And you didn’t acknowledge it. You were hurt and you wanted to cry.
“You look different,” you said as you started the car.
“So do you.”
The drive to his house wasn’t filled with arguments, but it was heavy, filled with silent tears, raw pain, and regret. Regret, but also understanding. You had both done your best, you both knew this was coming. And you both knew this was the end.
There was no way to fix it. No way for your lives, your universes, to align right now. You cried together, and when you finally arrived at his house, a farewell kiss was exchanged. Salty from tears. Your tongues barely brushed, just a soft, lingering touch, intense, but at the same time, neither of you wanted to pull away. You still loved each other. That was obvious. But there was nothing left to do to save this love.
“I’m proud of you, Jungkookie.” That was the last thing you said before he turned his back and walked toward his house.
He never looked back.
Busan, 2025
The night shift had been brutal. There was an unspoken rule in the medical field: never, under any circumstances, say that a shift is "quiet." It was a curse, an invitation for chao. And that’s exactly what had happened last night. At least now, you had something to look forward to for next month: your first real break since starting this job. One and a half month of vacation. Time to breathe, rest, maybe even figure out what you wanted outside of work.
You were finally about to finish your orthopedic residency and, for the first time in a while, you'd be free for a bit. In medicine, real breaks were rare, but luckily, the hospital you worked at had recently started experimenting with a new mental health initiative for doctors, nurses, and other healthcare workers. After an intense year marked by record-high burnout rates and an average of 80-hour workweeks, the issue had sparked widespread criticism in the media and among healthcare professionals. The pressure led to protests demanding change, ultimately pushing for a new protocol focused on ensuring better rest, increased job satisfaction, and, most importantly, fewer medical errors and higher quality care for both patients and staff.
But first, you were stuck in traffic. You tapped your fingers impatiently against the steering wheel, stealing a glance at the clock. 8h35 a.m. The roads should’ve been clearing up by now, but instead, the city was at a standstill. Min Hyejin, your closest friend since university and now a fellow nurse, sat beside you, scrolling through her phone. In the backseat, Dr. Choi Seojun, a new orthopedic specialist at the hospital, stared out the window, looking just as exhausted as you felt.
"What the hell is going on?" Seojun muttered as he squinted at the street ahead. A dense crowd had gathered along the sidewalks, holding signs, flowers, and balloons.
“No idea,” you sighed as you drummed your fingers harder. “Traffic wasn’t supposed to be this bad.”
Hyejin frowned, then let out a small breath as she kept reading her phone.
“Looks like there’s some celebrity in town,” she said absentmindedly.
“A celebrity?” Seojun let out a dry chuckle. “Who?”
“Not sure.” She kept scrolling.
The cars inched forward, only for the one ahead of you to slam its brakes. You barely had time to react before slamming your palm against the horn.
“Idiot!” you yelled, leaning slightly out of the window, the warm June air tousling your hair. You forced yourself to take a breath, staring at the summer skyline, trying not to let exhaustion and impatience get the best of you. Twelve-hour shifts were already draining enough. Getting stuck in a never-ending traffic jam right after? Unbearable.
Hyejin suddenly sat up straighter, eyes widening.
“Oh,” she murmured, then cleared her throat. “Apparently, the BTS members just got discharged from the military. Some of them are back in Busan, and fans are out here welcoming them.”
Your stomach dropped. The air in your lungs seemed to vanish in an instant, your fingers tightening around the steering wheel. No. It couldn’t be.
Of course, after almost a decade, you hadn’t heard from Jungkook personally. You only knew him the way the rest of the world did, through headlines, music videos, and the occasional airport sighting captured by paparazzi. He had become untouchable, larger than life. You had spent years learning how to ignore the constant reminders of him, how to keep your head down when his face appeared on billboards, how to pretend you didn’t hear his voice in passing when a song played somewhere. You had known about his enlistment, of course. It was impossible not to. But this was too much.
He was here. Somewhere in this city. And suddenly, the space around you felt suffocating.
Dr. Choi stretched his neck, trying to get a better view.
“Wait are they actually here? Like, up ahead?”
“No, it’s just the fans.” Hyejin laughed, shaking her head.
Just the fans. You exhaled slowly, forcing your hands to relax. He wasn’t here, not right now, at least. But for the first time in years, Jungkook was close enough to feel real again. And that thought terrified you more than anything else.
“I remember a few years ago they had a concert here, and my niece almost killed me to go with her,” Seojun says, laughing. “She went with her friends.”
“I remember,” Hyejin says, smiling as she looks at Seojun. “They’re good,” she adds, and a silence settles in the car. You weren’t in Busan when the concert happened, but you overheard your mom and dad talking about it being a huge event. “Jimin’s from here, his dad has a café that’s really famous,” she shrugs. “Jungkook’s from here too, right?”
Hearing his name makes you shudder, but without thinking too much, you say quietly, “Yes.”
“Hey, you used to like BTS back in college, didn’t you? I remember you playing their songs while we studied,” Hyejin turns to you, and you swallow hard.
Hyejin was your roommate in your first year of college, then she switched dorms, and you became friends with Leah, another girl you didn’t have contact with anymore. The two of them were your closest friends, and still, neither of them ever knew about you and Jungkook.
You avoid looking at her, but you don’t need to respond, and Seojun’s laughter echoes in the car.
“So, you...” he starts, but you interrupt him.
“No, it’s not like that,” you sigh, now more impatient than just a moment ago.
“Oh, so you weren’t a fan?” Dr. Choi laughed, teasing you a bit. You glanced at him through the rearview mirror but decided to just shake your head. He didn’t notice, too focused on looking out the window.
“There are so many people here just to honor them, and they’re not even here,” he said, staring at the crowd.
“BTS is a global phenomenon, and their fans are everywhere,” Hyejin said, smiling. The words caught you off guard. You had understood years ago that your Jungkook probably didn’t even exist anymore. How could he? With all that fame and money, the Jungkook you once knew was likely just a part of your memory now.
“I can’t imagine what it must be like to be that famous, to have people throwing themselves at your feet, loving you from a distance... it must be exhausting,” Seojun said, thoughtfully.
“Maybe,” you murmured, driving the car a little further, “But it’s the price of success. And I think they knew exactly what they were getting into.” You said it bitterly.
“You’re right,” Hyejin spoke this time, looking at you and nodding. “But still, it must be hard. Not having a life like we do, no privacy, no normal moments.”
You didn’t say anything. Jungkook’s life was in another universe, so far away from yours, and no matter how much you wanted to hold onto him, you couldn’t. You never could.
The traffic was slowly clearing up, the cars moving forward little by little. As soon as you left the crowded area full of fans, the road flowed normally again, making you let out a sigh of relief. You were exhausted from that atmosphere, from the mere reminder of your ex, despite how easily you had learned to ignore his orbit whenever it crossed your path.
But for the first time in years, you and Jungkook were in the same city at the same time, and that was terrifying. Still, if you were being honest, there was zero chance of running into him on the street, because you weren’t naive, and he was ridiculously famous. What were the odds that you would just happen to see him at a restaurant you frequented?
Seojun and Hyejin’s conversation blurred into background noise during the entire drive to your friend’s house, where she was the first to be dropped off after over fifty minutes of traffic. Without hesitation, Seojun moved to the passenger seat. He talked about work, and you nodded absentmindedly, too drained to focus on his words, or anything else.
“You know,” he started, looking at you. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, raising your eyebrows to signal for him to continue. “I’d really like to know if you’d want to go on another date with me.”
Your fingers gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.
The two of you had gone on a date the previous weekend. Seojun was the head orthopedic doctor, and you were currently doing your residency in the field after giving up your last specialization in emergency medicine. The pressure had been too overwhelming, triggering panic attacks whenever you thought about working in such high-stress conditions. Initially, you thought you would adjust, but you never did, so you switched to your second choice, or perhaps what you had truly wanted all along: orthopedics.
The date had been nice, nothing extraordinary. No kiss, no deeper intentions on his part, which had honestly left you a little disappointed. Dr. Choi was attractive, tall, muscular, intelligent, and charismatic. You had wanted a kiss, but it never happened. After a week of discreet flirting at work, his question wasn’t entirely surprising.
“Of course,” you answered with a small smile, glancing at him briefly before focusing on the road again.
“Great,” he grinned, dimples deepening on his cheeks. “There’s a restaurant near my place I want to take you to. I just found out about it recently.”
You smiled and nodded. He told you the name of the place, you had been there before, given that you lived in the same neighborhood, but you pretended not to know. You wanted to make him feel good.
When you stopped in front of his building, Seojun thanked you for the ride and stepped out of the car. You watched him walk away, but then, without warning, without any conscious effort, your mind wandered to the fact that Jungkook was in town. You rolled your eyes at your own thoughts. Why does this even matter? It didn’t. Not one bit.
Besides, it had been nine years since you last saw each other. With the way the media worked, there was even a possibility that Jungkook was married by now. You doubted it, though. If his schedule had been chaotic back when BTS was just rising to fame, it was probably almost ten times worse now. Shaking your head, as if that would rid you of these thoughts, you focused on getting home. You desperately needed rest.
CH: 2 – Here
favsjjk97 - 2025
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