Tangled Realities (Ot7xreader)

The car ride home was suffocating. The engine hummed, the city lights blurred past, but all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears.

Your fingers dug into your thighs, knuckles turning white from how tightly you clenched your fists. You stared out the window, jaw locked, trying to process the betrayal that burned like acid in your stomach.

Jin shifted beside you, his grip tightening around the steering wheel. He wanted to speak—you could feel it in the way his body tensed, in the way his breath hitched as if words were forming on his tongue. But the second he parted his lips, you reached forward and turned up the radio, the music blasting through the speakers in a sharp, deliberate warning.

Not now.

When the car finally came to a stop in front of the house, you turned to him, slow and deliberate. His eyes darted to yours, and in the dim lighting, you saw it—guilt. But it wasn’t enough.

The moment you stepped out and the front door shut behind you both, something inside you snapped.

With all the force of your pent-up frustration, you shoved him—pushing him back just enough to make him stumble. He caught himself on his feet, but his eyes widened in shock.

"What the hell were you even thinking?!"

Your voice came out broken, raw from the sheer force of emotion behind it. The weight of weeks—months—of isolation, exhaustion, and helplessness came crashing down all at once.

Jin didn’t respond at first. He stood still, his face unreadable, but his shoulders flinched—like he was bracing himself. As if he knew the gravity of what he’d done.

The sound of hurried footsteps broke through the air, and before you could move again, Jungkook appeared from the hallway, his brows furrowed in concern.

He must’ve heard you yelling. They all must have.

It didn’t matter.

You shook your head at Jin, chest rising and falling rapidly. "Fucking answer me, Kim Seokjin!"

Jungkook turned to Jin, his expression tense, his lips parting as if he wanted to demand the same thing. But he stayed quiet, waiting for Jin to explain himself.

"Listen to me for fuck’s sake!" Jin finally snapped, voice strained. "She just wanted to talk!"

Something inside you shattered.

Talk? Talk?!

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh, but there was no humor in it. Your breath came in quick, ragged gasps, your entire body trembling from the sheer effort of keeping yourself from screaming.

"You thought it wasn't a big deal?" your voice was dangerously low now, each word laced with disbelief. "You—" your breath hitched, vision blurring as your throat tightened painfully. "You invited her into our space. Our home. After everything Namjoon went through. After everything she did to him—to all of us."

"I was trying to get rid of her," Jin’s voice was quieter now, but still defensive. "I thought if I just—if I met with her and made it clear, then she’d finally leave us alone. But she kept stalling, she kept talking and—"

"You don’t get to fucking justify this!"

Your hands were shaking now—your whole body was shaking. Heat crawled up your neck, your chest tightening as your breathing became erratic. It was too much. The room was spinning, the walls closing in, suffocating you with the weight of everything you’d been swallowing down for weeks.