#So yah know triggering | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

monicfever · 2 months ago

Note

hiii angel!! i was wondering of you'd do something for dex and reader who has severe attachment and abandonment issues? i love love love your work sm!! <33

ben poindexter x attachment/abandonment!issues reader. 𝜗𝜚 headcanon’s

r e q u e s t e d ♡

cw ᝰ .ᐟ co dependency ,, toxic relationship probably? idk my heart shaped glasses are on ,, gender neutral reader ,, it’s dex so .. yah

DEX knows that kind of fear. the kind that makes your chest ache when someone takes too long to reply. the kind that whispers they’re leaving. so when you get quiet and distant and paranoid, he doesn’t take it personal. doesn’t get mad when you ask for reassurance three times in ten minutes — just pulls you into his arms and says it again: i’m not leaving. i’m right here.

he literally doesn’t know how to process being wanted this much. this is probably one of the most ideal scenarios out there for him.

emotional dependency. if one of you is upset, you can’t focus on anything until the other is calmed down.

dex lets you kiss his pulse when he’s scared. he won’t say it out loud, but it grounds him — to feel your lips where his heart beats. to know someone wants him alive. you let him kiss your wrist in return.

he lets you cling. he needs it too, if he’s being honest. lets you tangle your limbs around him like a lifeline. lets you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, steady and real and not going anywhere.

the relationship isn’t about space, it’s about closeness. constant closeness. suffocatingly sweet, terrifyingly intense closeness.

you joke about being codependent and he nods like it’s a compliment. like, yeah? obviously.

you’ve both made it a habit to over-reassure each other when you talk about friends or exes. like, you’ll say “she’s nice, but she’s not you. no one makes me feel like you do.” dex’ll say “he’s cool, but you’re mine.” and it never sounds forced. it sounds like medicine.

you’ve both had full-blown meltdowns over someone going to the store without saying goodbye. the smallest silence, the smallest gap in communication triggers that deep, clawing fear: they left. they didn’t think it mattered.

both have habits to constantly reassure each other you're still chosen. dex will tap your thigh three times — his silent code for i love you, i'm here, i’m not leaving. you squeeze his hand in return — i know, i feel it, don’t stop.

he sends voice notes when he knows you’re spiraling. tells you exactly what he’s doing, exactly when he’ll be home. never ghosts, never disappears. he knows what that does to someone.

lets you repeat yourself. lets you doubt. lets you cry. he gets it — how love feels like something that could vanish if you breathe wrong. he lets you see him anxious, too. the tapping, the pacing, the tension in his jaw. not to make you feel guilty — but so you know you’re not alone. you don’t scare him. he’d rather have you panicked and clinging to him than not have you at all.

it’s terrifying how much he loves you. he needs you like air, like sleep, like the pills he forgets to take when he's too busy watching your location update on his phone. he never calls it stalking. he calls it making sure you’re okay. calls it looking out for you. calls it love.

he adores that you’re clingy. never complains. never rolls his eyes. in fact, the more you need him, the calmer he feels. finally, someone who wants him like that. who’s just as intense. neither of you go anywhere alone unless it’s absolutely necessary. if you could, you’d share one nervous system. always touching — pinkies hooked, shoulders pressed, legs tangled.

both of you panic when the other doesn’t answer the phone right away. he’s texting “where are you? are you okay?” while you're calling back in a frenzy thinking he got hurt.

falling asleep on top of him. always. his chest, his lap, draped across his body like a weighted blanket. he’d stop breathing before he’d ask you to move.

you panic when he leaves. even if he says it’s nothing big, even if it’s just a quick job. you cling to him at the door, voice cracking as you whisper “what if you don’t come back?” — dex melts. completely. cups your face in both hands, presses your forehead to his and says “hey. i’m coming back. i always come back to you.”

he leaves behind a hoodie that smells like him. a voicemail saying “i love you” just in case. his location’s always on. he double checks the locks before he goes. triple checks if you’re crying.

the second he’s home he’s dropping everything at the door, walking straight to you like he’s been starving. wraps his arms around you and mumbles, “missed you so bad. i’m sorry, i’m here now. i’m not going anywhere baby, i’ve got you.” you’re curled up on the couch in his hoodie, cheeks blotchy from crying, and he’s just standing there staring at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen. like, he thinks you’re so adorable when you need him. “gonna make it up to you,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair while you cling to him. “wont go anywhere without you. won’t even go to the bathroom without you, swear to god.”

and he doesn’t. for the next 24 hours he’s glued to your side, follows you around the house like a puppy. lays on top of you like a weighted blanket, kisses every inch of your face until you start laughing through the tears.

you’re in his lap while he eats. in his lap while he watches tv. he literally can’t function unless you’re physically touching him. one hand on your thigh, arm slung around your shoulder, pinkies linked — something.

if you say “i thought you were gonna die,” he gets so soft. kisses the corner of your eye, strokes your cheek with the back of his hand and says, “you really love me that much, huh?” like he’s shy about it.

he thinks it’s so cute when you get possessive too. like if you cling to his sleeve when someone flirts with him, he leans in and kisses you right there, smiling against your mouth.

you both have those breakdowns where it’s not even words, just shaking and holding each other like it’s the only thing keeping your hearts beating. and every time he promises it again. even if he already said it twenty times that day. “i’m not going anywhere. i couldn’t even if i wanted to. you’ve got me forever.”

one time he tried to leave in the middle of the night for something “quick.” didn’t want to wake you. but you did wake up — reached out, found the bed empty, and by the time he was at the door, you were sobbing in the hallway. he immediately dropped his bag, walked back to you with the most heartbroken look on his face. cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing your tears away. you clung to him so tight he just sank to the floor with you, held you there until the sun came up. whispered over and over, “shhh. i’m not mad. you’re allowed to need me. i love it when you need me.”

he started letting you tag along after that. even if it’s just waiting in the car. even if you’re not doing anything. he’d rather see your worried face through the windshield than not see you at all.

he talks to you through his earpiece. “you still there, baby?” / “mhm.” / “talk to me. tell me what you’re gonna make me for dinner. i just wanna hear your voice.” and if you do stay home, he calls during the job. on the job. literally ducking behind cover like “hey, yeah, just wanted to say i miss you. i’ll be home soon, okay?” - - que him throwing a rock at matts forehead without even looking. when he comes back, he doesn’t even take off his boots before grabbing your face and kissing you breathless. muttering “you okay? did you cry? i missed you.” (part of him secretly likes it when you cry over him.)

he’ll cancel plans to stay in bed with you. has zero problem being irresponsible if it means holding you through a panic attack or a clingy spiral.

absolutely calls you pet names when you’re anxious. “sweetheart,” “angel,” “my baby.” says them soft and slow, like a lullaby, until you settle in his arms.

he wants the mess. wants the tears. wants the clinginess. it makes him feel safe. it makes him feel real. desired. if you ever try to apologize for needing too much he cuts you off with a kiss. “you’re exactly what i’ve always wanted.”

if you ever pull back, even just a little — even for a second — he goes absolutely wild. not in a “calm down” kind of way. in a “no, no, no” kind of way, like you’re slipping through his fingers. the moment you don’t immediately reach for him, his chest tightens, his heart rate picks up. “what’s wrong? don’t you want me?”

if you stop needing him for a second, even in a non-desperate, non-needy way, he can’t breathe. he panics. he feels his whole world shattering. like you’re getting ready to leave him. your clinginess feeds him. he knows you care. if you even accidentally pull away or seem like you’re trying to give him some space, he’s on you within seconds. wrapping his arms around you like you’re the only thing keeping him from falling apart. he cracks when you show signs of independence. he thinks it’s a sign you’re going to disappear.

his mind works overtime, spiraling into the idea that if you don’t cling to him, if you don’t hold him like you’re terrified of losing him — then you will leave him.

starts to feel resentful of anything that takes you away from him. if you hang out with friends, if you don’t text him back immediately, if you want time for yourself, it all feels like a slow rejection.

will whine or get genuinely upset if you don’t show enough physical affection. even if he’s the one who’s too clingy, he’ll act like you’ve abandoned him just for pulling away for a minute.

he doesn’t like when you act like you’ve got it together. when you try to be strong without him. it makes him feel like you don’t need him anymore, like he’s invisible. “i thought you needed me. i thought i was the one you couldn’t live without.”

obsessive, compulsive tracking. you go to the store? he needs to know when you’re leaving, when you’re back, what you bought. stalker tendencies. if you leave for a moment, if you go out alone — he’ll follow. just to make sure you’re not leaving him or finding someone else.

he listens to you so obediently. whatever you say goes. if you tell him to stay close, he doesn’t question it. if you tell him to sit down, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing and sit at your feet.

he’ll drop everything for you. his work, his hobbies, his interests — none of it matters if you need him.

both of you feed into each other’s worst fears: being abandoned, being alone. you make excuses for each other, let each other get away with anything just to avoid the uncomfortable idea of ever losing the other.

he enjoys knowing that you're so wrapped up in him, that when you feel abandoned, it’s almost as if the world is crumbling. he doesn’t want to be cruel, but he can’t help the rush it gives him knowing you’ll always look to him first for validation, for connection.

dex knows exactly how to get under your skin when you're struggling with your abandonment issues. when you try to shut him out emotionally, he’s the one to make you feel like it’s impossible to be without him. the more you get lost in your own head, the more he thrives on being your constant. when your insecurities flare up he doesn’t give you space; he pulls you in closer, touches you in ways that ground you. dex loves that you fall apart when he isn’t there. when you shut down or spiral into your own head, he sees it as proof that you can’t exist without him.

when you catch him spiraling, getting quiet, withdrawn, convinced you’re gonna leave - you drop everything to hold him. he clings to your shirt and hides his face in your neck like a kid. he never had that kind of comfort growing up, and now he craves it from you. only you.

when either of you even jokes about leaving, the other shuts it down immediately. it’s not funny. not even a little. you both get too in your heads about it, replaying it for hours after, paranoid it wasn’t a joke at all.

you both feed off each other’s clinginess. if one of you starts it — handsy, needy, whispering you can’t sleep without them — the other doubles it, tenfold. suddenly you're locked in each other’s arms like the world’s ending and only this moment exists.

keeps one of your things with him at all times. could be a hoodie, a piece of jewelry, even a chapstick you used once. he doesn’t tell you, but when he’s losing it, he holds it like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. when you find it and realize he’s been carrying it around? you start doing it too.

neither of you knows how to fight without the deep-rooted panic that this will be the one that ends it. dex raises his voice once, and your heart drops into your stomach. you go quiet and his hands are already in his hair, begging under his breath — “don’t shut down. don’t leave.”

when one of you leaves the room for more than ten minutes without saying where you’re going, the other’s already pacing. it’s ridiculous. dex once came back from a shower to find you curled up on the floor thinking he bailed. now he always announces where he’s going. even if it’s just the kitchen.

when one of you is away for too long, you both lose sleep. it’s not just missing each other. it’s panic. dex gets snappy and withdrawn, you get dramatic and anxious. the reunion is always intense. too many emotions, too much relief.

he doesn’t just get protective. he gets viciously protective when you talk about past relationships, past abandonments. he hates thinking about you being hurt before him. loving someone before him.

sometimes dex gets so overwhelmed by how much he loves you that he just shuts down. goes quiet. curls up against you and buries his face in your stomach, you play with his hair until he comes back.

you both hate sleeping without the other now. you try to be normal about it, but you wake up nauseous. dex stares at the door like you might walk in. even one night apart leaves you both off balance. you sleep facing each other a lot. turning your back feels like a statement, and neither of you could survive misinterpreting that in the dark.

he picks up on your micro-expressions instantly. your blink patterns, how you fidget when you’re upset, how your smile twitches when you’re scared. he watches you like a survival manual. you do the same to him — he calls it creepy as a joke, but he melts every time.

dex starts fights on purpose when he’s scared you’re pulling away. just to make sure you care.

your phone backgrounds are each other. not even cute aesthetic photos — full-on, raw, vulnerable pictures.

you both keep little mementos from each other. you write notes to each other constantly. on mirrors, on receipts, on the backs of your hands. he has every post-it note you’ve ever written. you keep a receipt from a gas station because he held your hand in the parking lot and told you he’d never let go. you keep them like relics. like insurance against loneliness.

when one of you gets triggered or panicky, the other instinctively lowers their voice, softens their movements, goes small. you both know what it’s like to be too scared to ask for comfort.

every time one of you has a nightmare, the other doesn’t ask what it was. not unless you want to say it. instead, the rule is: water, forehead kiss, wrap around each other until your breathing syncs. the night resets when you find each other again.

there’s a rule: never leave the house angry. ever. if you fight, you sit on the floor, back to back, and you breathe. five minutes. ten. until the tension melts.

you keep a shared notebook for when the feelings are too big. you write letters to each other in it, especially on hard days. sometimes dex scribbles “i love you even when you’re quiet.” and leaves it on your pillow. you write back: “i love you when you’re angry. i know why you get that way.”

dex lets you trace his scars when you’re anxious, over and over. even the ones he usually hides. you do it like it’s sacred. like every inch of him deserves love. when he can’t breathe, you ask him to trace your spine, your jaw, your hands. it calms him every time.

dex keeps a note in his phone called “what to do when they’re hurting.” it’s just little things you’ve said helped. your favourite snacks. songs that pull you back. the way you like your hair touched.

you both panic when the other one sleeps too still. like — is that still breathing? dex has absolutely leaned over you, whispered “baby?” until you stirred just slightly. and you’ve done the same, barely touching his chest with your fingers to feel it rise.

marks you up when he’s jealous. hickeys, scratches, bite marks in places only he’ll see. for control — for comfort, for proof. you do the same. a little too hard with your nails. a kiss with too much teeth.

he absolutely malfunctions when you compliment him too earnestly. like, he can take teasing or playful flattery, but if you look at him dead serious and say something he stares at you like you’ve knocked the wind out of him.

he doesn’t know how to handle the way you hover when he’s injured or just tired. like bringing him water, checking his face for any sign of discomfort, asking “need anything?” every ten minutes. he’s never had someone be gentle with him like that, it completely unravels him.

becomes totally silent when you trace his features. like, drag your fingers over his cheekbones, his brow, his jaw — just looking at him like he’s something sacred. he leans into your palm every time.

dex absolutely gets flustered when you praise him in front of people. casual stuff — “he’s so good at that,” or “he takes care of me better than anyone ever has.”

he loves being watched. like when he’s doing something totally mundane — loading a gun, brushing his teeth, pacing — and he notices you looking at him like you’re obsessed. it short-circuits him a little. he tries to act normal, but it makes his skin burn in a good way.

once got really quiet after you hugged him from behind and just held him there. no words. no tension. just arms around his waist, your cheek against his back.

when he’s being moody or short, you don’t fight back. you just cup his jaw, tilt his face toward yours, and say “talk to me.” it undoes him completely. you never use that voice unless you’re pulling the hurt out of him like a splinter.

he is always waiting to be “too much” for you. too cold. too quiet. too angry.

he can always tell when you’re spiraling in your head, even if you don’t say a word. maybe you’re fidgeting with your hands, chewing your lip, or just not making eye contact. he’ll pull you into his space, drape a heavy arm around your shoulders, and rest his head on top of yours. you don’t need to explain; he already knows. sometimes, he’ll just leave a kiss on your temple and wait, and that’s all it takes for you to calm down a little.

when you’re feeling overwhelmed in public, maybe at a party or in a crowded place, his first instinct is to reach for your hand, fingers squeezing just enough to pull you back to him. the simple pressure of his hand is enough to remind you that no matter how loud the world is, he’s here, and he won’t let you go.

when you’re on the verge of a panic attack he instantly knows. his reaction is immediate, he doesn’t try to talk you down with logic (because he knows that doesn’t work), instead, he pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly, keeping you in his chest until you’re calm. when it’s over, he doesn’t leave you, even for a second. he’ll make sure you feel safe.

sometimes, when your abandonment issues hit, you get scared of being left alone — whether it’s him going out or just being in a different room. dex, noticing this, will make sure to be around you constantly, but in a way that doesn’t overwhelm you. if he has to leave for a bit, he’ll casually say, “i’m going to grab coffee. wanna come?” or, if you’re staying in, he’ll just hang out in the same space as you, whether it’s in the living room or the kitchen.

started 4.27.2025. finished 4.27.2025.

( masterlist. )

©️ monicfever 2025

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sunflowersandsapphires · 1 year ago

Text

Drunk on You

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: After losing a bet, Frank's drunk night turns into a nightmare when he accidentally leaves a VERY honest voicemail on your phone. (Prompt: "I need to see your phone.")

warnings: swearing, excessive drinking (do NOT do this.), Frank being affectionate

a/n: This wasn't requested by anyone, I just saw this prompt and immediately pictured Frank freaking out about a voicemail he left on someone's phone. A huge shout out to @gracethyomen and @madschiavelique who I forced into beta-ing this for me multiple times. As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Thank you!

w/c: 6k (Yah, i know. I got carried away.)

Frank liked to think that he was decently romantic—so it was almost embarrassing that your relationship happened by accident.

He didn’t possess a natural charm, like the one that Red always flaunted, but he could usually hold his own when he found someone attractive. Before…everything, his cocky attitude and unjustified youthful arrogance helped him flirt with Maria. Since the loss of his family, flirting was more of a pastime. Until you.

From the moment you both met, Frank had known that you were different—that you were never meant to be a casual fling. It terrified him, at first, but after many many lectures from Curtis, he was ready to try a relationship again.

Despite that fact, he could never seem to get the words out.

Flirting with you was as easy as pulling a trigger, but being honest and open about his feelings? Never his strong suit. He was just thankful that Curtis believed in boundaries and David was oblivious, otherwise you would’ve gotten the news through the grapevine weeks before he blurted it out.

It all started when David scolded him.

“Language, Castle. This is a family establishment.” His stern tone was completed with a pointed finger.

The two men were seated on opposite sides of the Lieberman’s sturdy dining room table, on the precipice of one of their classic “Family Dinner Spats”–a term Curtis had coined exasperatedly a few weekly meals ago. You, Sarah, and Curt were also currently at the table, nursing your wine while the kids played video games in the living room.

Smirking at David's tone, you raised a brow at the curly haired man. “Can you really call your suburban house an ‘establishment’?”

Frank chuckled at your attempt to defend him, his lips parting around the lip of his beer bottle in a smug smile.

“The house has been established, and there is a family present.” David snapped at you with a no-nonsense look. Looking at his wife incredulously, he threw his hands in a vague gesture. “C’mon Sarah, back me up!”

Sarah shrugged at him, grinning at his defeated groan. Shooting you and Frank a knowing look, she murmured, “We’ve all heard worse.“

Desperate for someone to agree with him, David glanced across the table pleadingly. “Curtis? C’mon man.”

Sighing, Curtis nodded, his lips twitching in a tiny smile. “You do have a foul mouth, Frank. There are children present.”

Frank scoffed, gesturing widely to the two teenagers in the other room.

Crinkling your nose as you stifled a laugh, you nodded solemnly. “They sort of have a point, Frank. Your vocabulary could make a sailor blush.”

Finally vindicated, David crowed, “You practically only speak in curses and grunts!”

The marine gaped. “Christ, I am not that bad.”

Smelling a game, David’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Oh yah? I bet you couldn’t go a week without swearing.

Sarah and Curtis took the vague challenge, and Frank’s responding bitter laugh, as their cue to leave the table, murmuring about cleaning up after dinner and chuckling to each other as they left. You, unfortunately, were far too intrigued to remove yourself from the conversation.

Good thing you were entertained, because David was far from finished with his accusations. “You know what? I don’t think you could even last a single day without that sinfully filthy language of yours, Castle.”

Frank rolled his eyes, but his jaw was tense. “Ya gonna make me a swear jar, Lieberman? What are you, my ma?”

David shrugged, pleased at how easily he was able to get under the hulking man’s skin. “Someone has to teach you some manners.”

You tapped a finger on your chin, meeting David’s roguish gaze. “He’s right though, a swear jar would never compel him to change.”

David crossed his arms. “And you have a better suggestion?”

Frank glanced at you, brow raised in curiosity, lips pursed.

You grinned manically. “Maybe a drinking game? Every curse word he says within 24 hours means he takes a shot.”

The technician erupted in bellowing laughter. “YES!”

Ignoring him, Frank smirked at you. “Tryin’ to get me drunk, sweetheart?”

You placed a hand over your heart in mock surprise. “Don’t tell me you’re chicken, Frankie.”

The large man bristled, straightening his posture as he shook his head. “Course not.”

David was glowing. “So you accept?”

“Uh—“ Frank’s hesitation was quickly settled by your adorable expression, your head tilted at him as you anticipated his next move. “Fuck, I guess.”

Practically screeching, David pointed a finger at the man, looking at you excitedly. “Oh my god, that counts right? That totally counts!”

Laughing as David practically began a victory dance, you raised your glass of wine. ”Let the game begin!”

What had he gotten himself into?

Unfortunately for his liver, the next 24 hours did not get easier.

With the combined efforts of you, Curtis, David, and the various CCTV systems of New York city, the tally landed at 52 curses in 24 hours.

“Holy shit, Frank,” You gaped at the final count, turning to him with wide eyes. “Were you even trying?”

Frank glowered, sinking further into the booth next to you. “Yes.”

“Well, we’re gonna need to change these rules a bit. Otherwise, you’ll need a transplant by next week.” You frowned, eyes glowing with the light of David’s computer screen.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft now, doll.” Frank muttered, the corner of his lips lifting up against his will.

“I’m always soft on you, tough guy.”Your words were earnest, causing Frank's throat to constrict. You raised a hand to pinch his cheek, seemingly unperturbed by his furious blush.

As if knowing he was ruining the moment, David returned to the table with a tray of half a dozen shot glasses. “Who’s ready to get wasted?”

Groaning, Frank dropped his head into his hands—his stomach already churning.

“New rules:” You announced, “No more than 7 drinks an hour.”

“Woah woah woah, who died and made you referee?” David scoffed.

“Everyone who has ever taken 52 shots in one night.” You retorted, refusing to change your mind.

While David began placing a row of tiny glasses in front of him, you took one of Frank's calloused hands in your much more delicate one. He raised his head to meet your serious gaze. “Hey, you do not have to do this. It was a stupid bet.” You were chewing on your bottom lip, his hand itched to cup your face and smooth the furrow in your brow.

“Um, he does so have to do this! I already put my card down. Drink up, asshole!” As David shoved the alcohol towards him, your arm shot out, acting as a barricade.

Looking at him with an inquisitive concern, you stroked your thumb over his knuckles. With a sigh, Frank grasped one of the shots between two fingers, downing it with a grimace.

David cheered. “Thattaboy! Drink up!!”

Biting your lip, you slid a single shot towards yourself and one to David. “If he’s going to do this, he’s not doing it alone. Drink up, Lieberman.” You teased, parroting his words before downing your own shot with a grace that was shocking and incredibly attractive.

“Damn, that’s smooth. You shelled out for us.” You snorted, setting the shit glass back on the sticky table.

Pouting at the tiny cup of clear liquid, David groaned. “I haven’t had tequila since college.”

“Sounds like you made a poor choice of beverage then. Drink!” You grinned at him, face warming as Frank slid an arm around your shoulders.

“She’s gotta point, Lieberman. You’ve dug your own grave. I ain’t drinkin’ another drop until you take that.” Frank smirked, eyes dancing with a mirth that you’d been missing.

“C’mon David!” You encouraged, the curly-haired man across from you finally nodding and downing the drink with a gag.

You and Frank cheered, laughing as he coughed in the aftermath.

“Alright, it’s gone. Your turn.” David nodded to the three remaining shots, crossing his arms impatiently.

Huffing out a breath, Frank tossed all three back, chasing the acrid taste with a swig of the beer he’d purchased himself without thinking. “There, ya fuckin’ happy now?”

“Thrilled.” David laughed. “We’re going to wait…15 minutes, and then I’m going to hustle you in pool.” Setting a timer on his watch, the engineer missed Frank’s exaggerated eye roll.

“Doesn’t a hustle require one party to not know they’re being hustled?” You asked, settling into Frank’s side with a smile.

“I could kick your ass with my eyes closed, Lieberman.” Frank snorted.

“Oh please, it's all geometry–I'm a whiz at geometry.”

Listening to them bicker, you couldn't help but smile. Sipping your beer, you crossed your legs, excited for the upcoming show.

As Frank's inhibitions grew steadily lower, you were joined at the booth by Curtis and Karen–both of whom were humored by the giant man's state, but not free of their own worry.

“Y’all trying to kill him?” Curtis chuckled, eyes focused on Frank's uncharacteristically wide grin as he slid into the booth across from you, beer in hand.

“Trust me, I’ve been negotiating Lieberman down all night to spare his intestines.” You huffed, your own gaze fixated on Frank as he lined up his next shot at the pool table, muscles bulging against his tight shirt as he bent over.

“See something you like?” Karen asked gleefully, lips curled in a smirk.

“Shut up,” You hissed, squirming in your seat as your body was hit with a flash of warmth.

“He's not making this easy for you, is he?” Curtis chuckled, sending Karen a knowing look.

“Does he always get so…touchy when he’s drunk?” You asked quietly, trying not to salivate as you got a perfect view of Frank's ass, his back turned towards you as he played his next turn.

Letting out a bark of laughter, Curtis shook his head at you.

“Oh stop it,” You groused, ignoring your friends' giggles as you slid off of the vinyl bench and made straight for the bar.

“Um whiskey. Neat, please.” You stammered out your order to the bartender, trying not to cringe at how disjointed the words sounded. Your mind was entirely preoccupied by the feelings you harbored for the man currently guffawing behind you. The scraping of glass on wood startled you out of your daydream.

Taking the glass from the bartender, trying not to meet their gaze as they eyed you suspiciously, you nodded a thank you.

Before you could return to your seat, a thick arm wrapped around your shoulders--a sensation that would've been horrifying had it not been accompanied by a familiar voice.

“When did ya start drinkin’ whiskey?” Frank's deep rasp ignited a heat deep in your gut, stealing the words straight off your tongue.

”I-I, uh didn't,“ You squeaked out, shoving the glass to Frank's chest. “I figured you’d want something other than mid-shelf tequila.” Looking up at him through thick lashes, your breath caught in your throat as you met his stare.

Frank's lips were tilted in a small smile, the tension he normally carried in his jaw nowhere to be found. His cheeks were flushed, his hair mussed from running his hands through it throughout the night. Boring into you, his beautiful ochre eyes crinkled with a happiness you rarely saw from the man.

A rough knuckle tipped your jaw upwards, shutting your mouth, which had apparently been hanging open as you admired the figure before you. “Somethin' on my face, sweetheart?”

Tilting his head, his eyes twinkled, his smile growing wider as you remained silent. “No, Frankie.”

“Good. C'mon, I need someone to cheer for me when I whup Lieberman's ass for a third time.” Frank snorted, pressing a kiss to your crown before taking your hand and dragging you towards the pool table.

The rest of the night flew by, a symptom of the intense focus you held on Frank's relaxed drunken nature. He'd been tipsy with you before, so you'd caught glimpses of this behavior from the man previously, but it would always catch you off guard to see him so...easygoing.

It wasn't that Frank wasn't affectionate, he was incredibly sweet, he just wasn't usually so forthcoming with his emotions. Nor was he normally content snuggling with you in public.

Rubbing his nose against your hair, Frank gave a sleepy hum before pulling back to down the rest of the ice water you'd forced into his grasp. His hand was gently gripping your waist, thumb tracing lines over your hip as your friends chatted. Frank was much too tired to be paying any attention, and your ability to retain any conversation topic flew out the window the moment his hand landed on your side.

Watching as his free hand lifted to clumsily scrub at his face, you frowned. “Wanna call it a night, Frank? You look ready to drop.”

“'M fine.” He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shit, you'd hoped the water would stave off the impending headache for now.

“The kid's right.” David remarked, smirking at your offended scoff. “If I'm beat, you must be half dead. I'll go close the tab."

"Can the rest of you make it home ok if I handle this one?" You asked, kneading at Frank's neck as he dropped his head to your shoulder with a grumpy huff.

"Yah, we can get David home in one piece." Karen promised, squeezing Frank's arm as she passed. "Goodnight."

"Ok, tough guy. You gotta get out so I can get out," You murmured, nudging the marine as carefully as possible.

Grumbling under his breath, he slid out of the booth, grabbing the table as he listed sideways.

"Christ, Frankie. Hold on, I gotcha." You grunted as he leaned against you, his weight shifting you off balance. Wrapping an arm around his waist in a motion similar to the one he'd made mere minutes ago, you shuffled towards the door. "Ok, Castle, you gotta work with me a little bit here."

As the two of you neared the exit, you heard an indignant squawk from the bar. "I OWE HOW MUCH??"

Chuckling softly, Frank's skull knocked against yours. "We'd better get outta here, sweetheart."

The two of you made it back to Frank's tiny apartment without incident, though the man was stumbling all the way. When you reached his front door, he snatched his keys from his pocket, tossing them at you without a word.

Not expecting the projectile, the ring of keys hit you square in the chest, your chin following them as they crashed to the grimy carpet underneath your feet. Looking at Frank with narrowed eyes, you raised an eyebrow. “Was that really necessary?”

Frank chuckled quietly, his laugh as close to a giggle as it would probably ever get. His half-lidded eyes creased as he grinned at you. “Sorry,” The apology was undercut by the shit-eating expression on his face.

“Drag your ass all the way home, breaking my back doing so–mind you,” You complained halfheartedly, your chest swelling with fondness as Frank’s raspy laughs continued. “And you just throw your shit at me.”

Shaking your head, you let your smile betray you as he kissed your forehead. “You’re unbelievable, Castle.”

“Thanks for puttin’ up with me.” His stubble scratched your skin as he spoke, his lips still resting against your temple.

“Anytime, big guy.” Your eyes fell closed as his hand rubbed over your lower back.

After a minute, Frank spoke again. “Are ya gonna open the door, or am I gonna have to sleep in the hallway?”

“Jesus Christ.” You groused, breaking out of his hold to squat down and grab his keys.

Just like that, Frank was back in stitches, shifting his weight to the door frame as his body shook with near silent laughter.

Shoving the key in the lock, you opened the door and shoved at him gently. "Get in there, goofball."

Shuffling inside, Frank beelined for the couch, collapsing onto it with his boots still on. Rolling your eyes, you followed him in, crouching by his feet to start unlacing his shoes.

Wriggling on his stomach, he craned his neck to look at you. “Whattya doin'?”

“Taking your shoes off, Frankie.” You explained without stopping your actions.

Grumbling, he flapped an arm at you clumsily. “Leave 'em.”

Huffing with exasperated affection, you ignored him. "You'll be more comfortable if I take them off, Frank."

You received a disgruntled noise in response, but his arm stopped moving. Face squashed against a throw pillow, his eyes were closed and his pink lips were parted--soft breaths slipping in and out of them every so often.

Finally pulling his second boot off, you sat back on your heels with a satisfied sigh. Standing as quietly as you could, you strode to the tidy kitchen.

Given that you were well-acquainted with Frank's place, you moved around the apartment with ease, finding the sparse first aid kit that he possessed and making a mental note to bring some supplies by soon. Sure, Frank would manage—he was the most capable man you'd ever met—but you wanted to make his life easier in any way you could.

Which is why you grabbed a few individually wrapped pain pills and placed them on the coffee table, along with a glass of water. Now for the difficult part.

"Frank, I know you're comfy like this but you have to turn to your side for me." You spoke softly, running a hand up his arm and pushing in the direction he needed to turn.

"Hngh..." Frank protested sleepily. "Why?"

Stifling a smile at the grumpy face he made, you continued to push. "C'mon, you big baby. On your side, so you don't choke and die overnight."

Huffing frustratedly, Frank flopped onto his side, glaring at you.

“Thank you. Do you need a blanket?” You asked, laughing indignantly when he flipped you off. “That was an actual question, asshole.”

Standing up, you took a step towards the worn armchair on the other side of the coffee table, nearly tumbling over when a force tugged on your wrist. Eyes closed again, Frank was poorly hiding a smile as he yanked your arm towards him with more strength than his inebriated self should have been capable of.

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you feeling nice now?” You grumbled, balancing your weight over him precariously as you tried to escape his hold.

Tugging your arm again, Frank muttered a jumble of grouchy nonsense.

“Christ, Frank.” You snorted, rolling your eyes to the ceiling before sliding your palms underneath his shoulders to shift him over. Squishing onto the couch next to his head, you found yourself smiling as he wriggled towards you, settling his head into your lap with a relieved exhale. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a piece of work when you’re drunk?”

Your murmur was more for yourself than for him, but he responded nonetheless. “M’ria.”

It was far from the first time he’d spoken to you about his late wife, but hearing her name fall from his lips when he was in such a vulnerable state felt like a swift punch to the gut. Regaining your composure, you threaded your fingers into his hair. “Go to sleep, Frankie.”

As your nails softly scratched at his scalp, darkness crept into the corners of his vision, his eyes fluttering closed again.

The next few hours passed like fractions of a dream. A warm pliant surface beneath his cheek, a cool hand running through his hair. A whispered conversation and hushed groans. A loss of contact.

Somewhere in the haze of alcohol-induced fatigue, Curtis appeared, taking over your role as his babysitter. Curt was good at taking care of him...he was a lot less pretty than you were, though.

“Christ, I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that.” Curtis griped, insulted by comment Frank hadn't intended to share, shoving a bottle of some form of sports drink at him. “Drink this.”

Scowling, Frank took a long swig. As he was gulping down the sugary liquid, his eyes locked on a piece of fabric draped over the back of the couch. Setting the drink down, and nearly spilling it all over himself in the process, he grabbed clumsily for the coat, clutching it to his chest when his fingers finally landed around it. ”She forgot it.“

”What?“ Curtis, rubbing a knuckle between his brows, looked unamused.

”Her coat, Curt.“ Frank whispered, holding it out to show the other man. ”We gotta find her. She forgot it. It's winter.“

Shaking his head with a huff, Curtis dropped his head into his hands. ”I'm sure she'll be fine without it for a night. Go to sleep, Frank.“

Frank frowned, still focused on the piece of plastic in his hands.

Grappling his pocket, he eventually pulled out his phone and flipped it open, squinting at the bright screen as it powered on. Scrolling through the list of contacts, he found the one he wanted and dialed.

”Frank,“ Curtis sighed, but didn't stop him from calling you.

Receiving your voicemail, Frank groaned. “Sweetheart, you better not be frozen to death out there somewhere. You left your coat here. You gotta come and get it, ok? I don't want you to be cold.”

”Hang up and sleep, Castle.“ Called the medic from Frank's bedroom. When had he gone in there?

Ignoring his friend's explicit instructions, Frank sighed. “Please come back. I like having you here. You just...you take such good care of me, and I really don't deserve it, but you do it anyways, and--” The phone was snatched out of his hand.

“Frank says goodnight.” Curtis snapped into the phone before ending the call.

“Hey!” Frank glowered, fumbling for Curtis's hand to take the device back.

“Go to sleep, Frank. You can talk to her tomorrow. Trust me, you'll be grateful I took this away when you've sobered up. You don't need to be spilling your secrets to her over voicemail.“ Spreading a blanket over Frank, Curtis glared at him. ”Close your eyes, Marine. I am not playing games with you tonight.“

Rolling to his other side so that Curtis couldn't see him, he smirked at the other man's final snort. ”Real mature, Frank. I'm taking your bed. I'll be out to check on you every once in a while.“

As Curtis retreated into the other room, Frank waited impatiently, staring at the back of the couch until he heard a door close. Grinning in satisfaction, he withdrew his burner phone from his other pocket, opening it up and inputting your number.

“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone. I wasn't done talking to ya. I like talkin' to ya, it makes me feel...god, I'm bad at this. I dunno, sweetheart, you make me feel good...special. I haven't felt that way in a long damn time. But you just make it seem so easy. You make everything seem so easy...”

The intense rolling of his stomach is what ruptured his unconsciousness, igniting a spark of adrenaline powerful enough to carry him to the bathroom so he could collapse in front of the toilet.

God, he felt fucking awful. His head was pulsing with the beginnings of a migraine, his throat burned with acid as he emptied his stomach repeatedly. Moaning with regret, he slapped the lever to flush the toilet, sinking back against the cool porcelain of the bathtub behind him.

“Was wondering when that would happen. David owes me 20 bucks.” Curtis leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom with his arms crossed, smirking at Frank's evident misery.

“Glad I could help.” Frank muttered, digging the heel of his hand into one of his eyes in an attempt to offset some of the building pressure in his skull.

“You look like shit.” Curtis chuckled, passing him a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers.

“Fuck off.” Frank grumbled, rinsing out his mouth before throwing back a few pills.

“Well, clearly you're feeling more like yourself. Christ.” Curtis snorted.

“God, Curt, what happened last night?” Frank grimaced.

“Besides you drinking enough to kill a racehorse? Not much. Unless you count me discovering your collection of burner phones as ‘interesting’.”

Curtis’s words were innocuous, but Frank felt a wave of dread crash over him at the implications.

“What collection?“ He asked mournfully, hoping fiercely that Curt didn’t mean–

“The one you were using to call your girl.” Fuck. “Every time I turned around, there was a new phone in your hands. Can't say I didn't try to stop you from making an ass of yourself, you just managed to do it anyway.”

“Fuck!” Frank cursed. That was exactly what he was hoping to avoid. “Please tell me you're jokin'.”

“Unfortunately not, Frank.“ The other man laughed, but his brow pinched in sympathy. “You're gonna have some explaining to do, I expect.”

“Fuck me. What did I say?” He looked to his friend pleadingly, feeling like his impending doom was perched just over his shoulders.

“I didn't catch all of it, but the parts I heard were pretty damning.” Curtis rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Frank’s intense eyes.

Mustering the dwindling energy he had, Frank lurched to his feet, stumbling towards the door. Thankfully, Curtis caught him when his balance faltered after a few steps.

“Woah, shit, Frank! Where are you goin'?” Curtis chastised preemptively, letting Frank lean against him as he ambled to the foyer.

“To apologize, or delete that message. Whatever needs to be done.” Frank’s jaw was stiff, his voice gruff with fear and discomfort. Undraping his arm from Curt’s shoulders, Frank bent down to grab his boots, halting as the motion caused a spike of pain to shoot through his brain. Clenching his fingers around his thighs, he bit his tongue to keep from hurling again.

“Jesus, Frank. This isn't a goddamn military operation.” Curt scoffed, kicking Frank’s shoes closer to him with a grunt.

Frank huffed a bitter laugh. “You're right, that would be easier.” Squatting down, Frank shoved his boots on and laced them up.

“You need serious help, you know that?” Curtis sighed, only waiting a moment before slipping his own shoes on. “C'mon. I'll drive you.”

Tipping your chin up, you let the final dregs of your latte trickle across your tongue, silently begging for those few drops to contain the caffeine you'd need for the rest of the day. You were practically giddy with lack of sleep and the immense amount of sugar you'd dumped into the coffee to make it palatable–you weren't used to so many extra espresso shots.

After looking out for Frank at the bar, wrangling him on the journey home, leaving abruptly to accompany your distraught roommate and her accident-prone boyfriend to the hospital, and then staying with said roommate all night while her boyfriend got a cast put over his broken arm–you were understandably exhausted. And, if you were honest with yourself, a bit aggravated that you'd been ripped away from Frank when he was so unusually receptive to your affection.

It wasn't as if you could just call Curtis and ask to switch roles again, it was almost noon. Frank would probably be up and hungover by now–far grouchier than the cuddly lump he'd become last night when he passed out on your lap. No use to mourn that loss any further, you supposed. It wouldn't be that hard to make him agree to another bet, after all.

Lounging on the couch, your eyes slipped shut for a moment, flying open in shock when you heard a knock at the door. Of course someone would show up right after you sat down. Inhaling deeply to keep from groaning, you dragged yourself off of the couch and to the door. Huh, speak of the devil.

Unlatching the door, you rested a hand on your hip as you took in the posture of the man before you. Frank looked awful, a perfect example of the saying “green around the gills”. He was slouched forward, barely meeting your gaze, and his complexion was so alarmingly pale that it was more translucent. Before you could ask what the hell he was doing on your doorstep, he spoke.

“I need to see your phone.” His tone was pained and especially gravelly, which made sense given how hungover he must be right now.

“Damn, Castle. Hello to you too.” You laughed, the humor of it not fully reaching your eyes as concern churned in your gut. Stepping out of the way, you allowed him to stride past you into the apartment.

Looking over his shoulder at you sheepishly, he cringed. “Sorry, hi. Your phone?”

Well he’s clearly on a mission. You had to admit, you were curious what he was so riled up about.

Your eyes narrowing, you gestured to where it sat on the counter, anchored by its designated cord. “It's charging. It died while I was running around last night and I just got home, so.” Frowning in confusion, you picked it up to show him.

“Thank god.” Frank let his face fall into his palms, collapsing onto your couch.

“Why do you need my phone, Frank?” Intrigue still piqued, you flicked a thumb across the screen to activate your phone.

Realizing he’d made a fatal error in his anguished haze, Frank swiveling in his seat, craning his neck just in time to see a massive grin break out across your face. “Shit wait–”

“Jesus Frank, are you ok? Why did you call me so many times?” You laughed, scrolling through the myriad of notifications you’d apparently missed from him.

“Sweetheart I'm begging you–” Standing on his wobbly legs, he hurried to remove the device from your hands, but it was too late.

“You left multiple voicemails?” You looked at him with an almost pompous smile, clearly taking satisfaction in his downfall.

“Please don’t–” He made for your phone, but his reflexes were lacking. Spinning just out of his reach, you raised the phone above your head victoriously.

“Voicemail number one!” You announced proudly, pressing play on the recording.

Frank’s voice sounded tinny through the small speakers, or maybe it was just being drowned out by the ringing in his ears. “You forgot your coat…”

“Aw, Frank, that's so sweet!” You spoke over the short message, your lip sticking out slightly as you looked at him with gratitude.

Stepping towards you with his palms displayed, he tried for a placating tone. “Yup. That was all, no need to listen to any more of–”

“Voicemail number 2!” You crowed, darting out of the kitchen as he grabbed wildly for the offending phone once more.

“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone...”

“This ain't funny.” Frank growled, scurrying after you into the living room “Turn those off!”

“You left them for me!” You giggled, holding the phone to your ear and squealing with delight at his first confession.

“You make everything seem so easy–”

“Aw, Frank–”

“It's so hard for me to focus when you're around–”

By the grace of some higher power, his drunk rambling cut off. Nearly keeling over, he leaned heavily against the back of your couch. “Thank Christ.”

“VOICEMAIL NUMBER 3!” You said gleefully, practically dancing with joy as Frank resumed chasing you.

“Goddamn it.” He muttered. He should have known he wasn’t that lucky.

“I can't stop thinkin' about ya–”

His words were coming back to him now, and it was crystal clear that he had very limited time to retrieve the phone before your relationship with him was irreparably damaged. Nearly bowling your coffee table over, he managed to snatch the hem of your sweatshirt, but you simply slipped out of it and resumed your lap of the space.

“I can never stop thinkin about ya–”

You leapt onto the couch and over the arm, making for your bedroom. How on earth were you this agile after last night? He was pretty sure this would be the last thing he ever did.

“I hope you made it home safe–”

You stumbled around your bed frame and Frank saw an opening.

“You shoulda stayed here with me–”

His eyes narrowed, vision tunneling like a predator’s. Frank bounded forward and your eyes widened as you realized he had you cornered.

“I'll always keep you safe–”

Finally, he arrived within the distance he needed, snatching you by the waist and spinning you into him. Your chests were pressed together, quivering with the force of labored breaths, but before he could hit the power button–

“Cause, I dunno, I just love ya, sweetheart. I'd never let anythin' happen to ya.”

His world blurred, his heart pounding so aggressively it felt like it was creeping out of his rib cage. It was done. It was over.

Panting, you looked up at him with a furrowed brow. His heart sank as he watched the realization crawl across your face.

“You...you love me?” You asked meekly as Frank took a step away from you.

His entire body felt like it was on fire, he couldn’t decide whether he needed to scream or be sick. An apology roosted on his tongue, but his mouth was too dry for the words to come out.

“You love me.” You murmured, looking at the phone as if it would explain his words for you.

“I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinkin'–” He choked out, scrambling backwards sloppily so that he wouldn’t witness your pity.

“Frank–” You spoke softly, the sympathetic edge to your words cutting his composure like a blade.

“Christ, I'll just go, I'm sorry–” He whispered, his throat tightening with immense regret.

“Frank” Your fingers suddenly wrapped around his wrist, turning him back to face you. He inhaled deeply, bracing himself for the rejection and subsequent loss of connection that he’d stupidly caused. But it never came.

Instead, your free hand cupped his neck, pulling his lips to meet yours. His knees wavered, nearly giving out as your soft lips met his. He was bombarded with surprise and affection and relief. Pulling back from him, you rubbed a finger over his nape and smiled softly.

“I love you too.”

“You–” He was too shocked to even ask a full question. His knees finally gave out and he fell against you.

“Woah, careful there, tough guy.” You chuckled, nudging him backwards so that he crumbled onto your mattress instead of taking you both to the ground.

Listing sideways onto your mattress, he let you prod at his limbs until he was fully seated. Bile was swiftly rising in his throat, but whether it was from the chase or the resulting emotions, he was unsure. Swallowing roughly, he grimaced.

Biting your lip, you let go of his wrist to stroke your blissfully cool fingers along his cheek. “Let me get you some water, ok? I’ll be right back.”

Eyes falling closed, Frank took a handful of measured breaths, lips twitching with a small smile despite his current agony. You loved him too. He had a feeling that he should be skeptical, but he was experiencing too much to consider that at the moment. For now, he would just accept this outcome, however miraculous it might seem.

Hearing your soft footsteps back into the room, he opened his eyes–immediately regretting it when his head convulsed with a renewed stab of pain. Moaning softly, he scrunched his eyes shut, bringing his thumbs up to his brows to knead them in the hope it would lessen the ache.

“Head bothering you?” Your voice was impossibly soft as you knelt by his side, gently prying one of his hands away from his face and pressed a cold glass into it.

“Yah. Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to crash here.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. I already texted Curt and told him you’d be staying here for a bit.” Pulling back your sheets on the other side of the bed, you propped yourself up next to him. “Tired?”

Grumbling affirmatively, Frank tilted his head into your shoulder, rolling as far into you as he could stomach. “But we should probably–”

“We got all the time in the world, sweetheart.” You stroked his stubbled chin languidly, smirking as his expression relaxed beneath your touch. “Just sleep. After last night, we both need it.”

“God, I love you.” He murmured, throwing an arm over your hips and letting you nestle in close.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, Frank.”

Frank made a mental reminder to buy Lieberman a beer the next time they went out. He’d never admit it to David, but he was beyond grateful that his uninhibited self had finally made a move.

Feeling more content than he had in months, he let himself drift off to the sound of your soft breathing.

Thanks for reading!!

#frank castle #my writing #frank castle x reader #the punisher #marvel #nmcu #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle imagine #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #fc

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crimsonfireboltart · 2 months ago

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CONTEXT ٩( ᐛ )و: this is going to be long brace yourselves.

Right now, currently, I'm pretty much into Lady Dimitrescu haha. I KNOW she's pretty much ooc in my drawings with my self insert character. I know she's this ruthless blood drinking vampire and all that. I just thought maybe she's a gentle giant to people she loves (her daughters). So why not draw my self insert and her together hihi.

I've always leaned onto fictional characters. My crushes were fictional characters. IRL crushes were rare. But when I do have them they were...intense. I've only have 2 crushes that I "loved" both of them were my friends. and both times I have confessed to them even though I know they don't like me that way. Rejected by both. IT ISN'T THEIR FAULT of course. I think it's mine? idk.

I appreciate that both didn't ignore me or something. They were good to me. Which made me like them more. It's frustrating. It hurts. But I've long since moved on from them.

I've also...never had any romantic partner/s. People tell me, "oh you'll find them someday" thank you for the advice but to be realistic, how? I'm a fucking introvert. I hate facing people/ strangers. I'm ugly AND overweight. "then do something about it" sure. maybe when i have some energy with me (i dont)

I drew up this comic because I saw one of these said former crush's story post. I got deeply disappointed at them recently. I got triggered and then spiraled down in despair again.

"what did I do wrong" (on why they don't seem want to connect again even after a mutual friend died)

"im so ugly i dont deserve to live" (self esteem who)

*unaliving thoughts surfacing*

"no one likes me" (romantically)

No one likes me. Well, I know my friends like me too. There was a time when I was trying to act cool and telling people "I don't need a romantic partner haha" But deep inside I keep asking: "how does it feel to have your someone" "how does it feel to be liked back?" "how does it feel to be loved (romantically)?"

Then a days later, I got with an argument with my mother. Admittedly, maybe my wording of the question I asked didn't sound too nice, but it was a genuine question. She got mad, and later talked to herself audibly, "This is why no one likes you!" (Kaya walang nagkakagusto sayo eh!) Of course I fucking heard that, and said "bitch!!" and ran off to my room. (see i'm not very nice. im evil. im not a good daughter or anything.)

My mother's generally nice, but she's a massive asshole. Thanks mom, I didn't want to be born. I wish that umbilical cord just choked me!

And of course, I got triggered again (still havent recovered from the earlier one.) got me deep in despair again.

So yah, no one likes me. But maybe Lady Dimitrescu will! ...she's not real.

sorry it's long.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil village #resident evil #resident evil 8 #lady dimitrescu x you #lady dimitrescu x reader #re8 lady dimitrescu

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lackablazeical · 5 months ago

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[Part 1 - Joel / Part 2 - Joey / Part 3 - Katherine / Part 4 - Sausage / Part 5 - Gem / Part 6 - Lizzie / Part 7 - Jimmy]

Yall gonna piss me off because there is NO content of season 1 Fwhip I'll kill the ENTIRE fucking Fandom with a gun

No angst with the siblings that isn't gem focused??? No angst with Fwhip feeling powerless and destroying himself in an attempt to fix everything??? Fuck off!!!!! 💥💥💥💥💥 I'm smarter than ALL OF YOU!!!!

Jkjk but I am sad he isn't a big favorite in the Fandom 😔 he has a lot of potential okay 💔 and YAH this redesign is entirely headcanons but you can sue me for that alr. I know my rights

So first: his arms rotted off from the withering effect. Sausage/Gem weren't effected, bc sausage just blood letted out the infection for the blood sheep to heal and Gem is magic soooo yeah. He replaced them with mechanical arms powered by Redstone (Redstone triggers electrical signals to cause the crimson vines to contract like tendons/muscles)

Bc this happened he also affixed a permanent attachment of his elytra to his back, so he is one of the rulers w/ permanently on display wings (I mean unless he's sleeping but shhhh)

He is covered in Redstone powder and some empires citizens are afraid of him cus he looks like he's bloody all the time 😔 his red lined eyes don't help this either, or coughing/wheezing red smog clouds occasionally snrk

Also he is twins with Gem, his hair would also have a gradient if it was longer/washed more (he's gross) and his scarf is a gift from gem!!! It has Redstone stones on the end, kinda inspired by that one. Bloody pearl choker I'm like reminded of SNRK also adds to blood themes. I know sausage is the blood themer but shhhhhh hush hush. Ik some ppl hc he's a vampire, I don't vibe w/ that tho I like to think he's just a freak fr

The speedpaint this time is supes boring but I gotta keep the tradition so look below tha cut ⬇️

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gotta-winwin · 6 months ago

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(🎞️) ... hit the road docu.<> and for the ghosts that haunt me

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

word count: 3.6k tw: anxiety, mentions of bullying, panic attacks, blood, use of slut shaming italics are interviews cut between scenes + english a/n: this is a retelling of a story that is extremely close to my heart. school bullying is NOT a joke, and remember that you're beautiful, strong and that no matter what anyone else says - you define who and what you are. if any of the above trigger warnings trigger you - scroll away, stay safe, and come back for the next one 💓

“Cyana!”

Cyana turned to greet her, a mysterious, faceless young girl whose voice sounded all too familiar.

“Chloe, hey.” She smiled, a wave of fond memories washing over her as she reminisced about what used to be. “I’ve missed you.”

“We saw each other yesterday, silly.” Chloe laughed, the sound sending sudden chills down Cyana’s spine.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Cyana asked, noticing the sinister glare behind Chloe’s friendly smile. “Chloe?”

“You really don’t know, huh?” Chloe chortled, eyes dancing with mirth, relishing in the glory Cyana’s confusion and fear gave her. “God, you really are dense. Just like your mother. Bet you won’t go to university, just like her.”

“Stop that.” Cyana protested, and a sudden sense of deja vu washed over her. This had happened before. “What’s going on, Chloe? Aren’t we friends?”

“Psh.” Chloe hid a smirk behind her hand. “You’re way too naive to be sixteen, Cyana.”

Sixteen? She frowned. She was way past sixteen now. Turning twenty one just a couple months ago had hit her like a truck. She didn’t feel her age. In her head she was still sixteen, huddled behind bathroom stalls and hanging her head low in hallways.

“Cyana?” A familiar voice spoke out of Chloe’s face. “Cyana?”

She blinked.

“Chan?”

The familiar face of her self-proclaimed twin and tour roommate hovered over her, blurred and hazy as she blinked up at him. Gentle fingers placed her glasses on the bridge of her nose, and a worried Chan came into clear view.

“Are you okay, Nana? You were crying out for something.”

She sat up, nearly bumping into him as she looked around, disoriented. “I- just a dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chan echoed the words his hyungs used to say years ago. “I used to get nightmares too. Jeonghan always said talking about it would make it easier.”

She shook her head.

“Cyana, she-” Dino paused, thinking. “She doesn’t like talking about herself very much. Sometimes I wonder if I really know her at all, and then I shake myself out of it because- she’s my twin. Of course I know her well. There are just some things she’s not ready to share yet.”

Cyana could feel her hands shaking as she packed for LA. Although she had been mentally counting down the days of tour leading up to it, she hadn’t realized it’d be so soon.

“Nana-yah?” Joshua knocked against the wall of her hotel room, poking his head in. “Are you all ready? We’re leaving soon.”

She hummed, keeping her head low, scared he’d pinpoint her red eyes and accuse her of crying. “Almost done.”

Nothing ever got past Joshua.

“Are you alright?”

Cyana really wished people would stop asking her that.

“I’m fine.”

“Cyana, she-” Joshua let out a breathy laugh. “Her tolerance for things is too high for her own good.”

Lingering by her door, Joshua’s eyebrows were pulled tight as he watched Cyana continue packing, her hands quivering under the dim lights of the room. A storm cloud was starting to stir within him, something deeply unsettling and worrying hovering just above the horizon - Joshua could sense it.

“I was never good at weaseling the truth out from others. Or forcing them to tell me. That was Cheol’s job. But he wasn’t there.” Joshua gave the camera a weary shrug. “It was what it was.”

Wonwoo was the one who found Cyana on the cold tiles of the airport bathroom, ten minutes before their flight to LA.

Pushing the door open with the brunt of his shoulder, Wonwoo crashed into the single occupant stall, disheveled and frantic as he stared at the girl sprawled across the tiles.

“Cyana?” He gasped out, catching his breath as he bent down, moving her hair away from her face. “Everyone’s looking for you. What-” Reality hit him like a rock as he realized the severity of the situation. There were dozens, if not hundreds of fans outside, and Cyana was currently lying on the floor, her eyes bloodshot and unfocused. “Where does it hurt?”

Her blurry eyes looked up to meet him as she took in his features. “Wonu?”

“Yeah.” His hands hovered shakily over her frame as his mind short-circuited, scared to move her but equally scared to let her stay on the floor. “The floor is unsanitary, Nana.” He mumbled, trying to calm himself as he checked for injuries. “Where does it hurt?”

Her hand moved to her chest.

“Your-” He paused, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“I can’t breathe.”

Ah. Panic attack. Why, Wonwoo had no clue, but at least he was familiar with these.

“Sit up. That’s good.” He braved a smile as he helped Cyana situate herself so she was leaning against the wall. Sitting down in front of her, Wonwoo spread his long legs in an uncomfortable position, but favourable for holding her as close as she needed. “Breathe. Slowly.”

He felt her whole body shake as she inhaled.

“Breathe again.” He whispered, painfully aware of the time ticking away - a plane waiting to be caught. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

He felt her shake her head, her hair brushing against his chin as she did.

“Please.”

“I don’t want to go to LA.”

Wonwoo had suspected so. “Why?”

Cyana didn’t know what compelled her to tell him everything - but she did, crying on the bathroom floor in some grimy airport, covered in his arms. Wonwoo stayed silent as she spoke, his strong arms holding her together like glue as tears fell from his own eyes, mirroring the ones in hers.

“Yeah, I knew. I knew everything.” Wonwoo told the camera, revealing the truth after nearly six months. “But once she had collected herself back together again, she told me to keep everything to myself. So that’s what I did.”

“Cyana, you need to get out of bed.”

Dino watched from his spot on his own bed, as Joshua gently scolded his roommate. He was confused why an usually active and energetic Cyana had been lounging in bed all day, practically every day since they had landed in LA.

“Shua hyung’s right, Nana.” Dino quietly voiced his opinion, frowning when Cyana grumbled unhappily. “What’s been going on with you? So grumpy.”

“We’re here for our concert, right? So I don’t have to go outside.” Cyana argued, pulling the blankets tighter around herself. “Please don’t make me go out.”

“We’re here for a week, Nana.” Joshua sighed, exasperated. “You can’t stay here all week.”

Cyana’s lower lip jutted out. “Watch me.”

Dino watched the whole exchange like a tennis match, his head turning back and forth as he watched them speak, confused by the sudden switch in language. “Nana.” He tried again, thinking maybe she’d be more receptive if it was coming from him. “Please? You said you’d take me sightseeing.”

Cyana hesitated. She had agreed to Dino’s ask for her to be his tour guide, but that was before -

“Okay, fine.” She relented, unable to take back her promise. “But only today. And we’re avoiding the popular spots.”

Dino only got up excitedly, hurriedly getting ready and grabbing his bag. Joshua, on the other hand, frowned at her words. Avoid the popular spots? But why? Even as idols, they could often roam around unfazed, especially in the states, where Seventeen was yet to be a household name.

“I was already worried then.” Joshua told the interviewer solemnly. “But we had enough bad vibes going around and- I guess I was praying it was all in my head, and that she was actually perfectly fine.”

“You run away from your past until it all eventually coils up and attacks you all at once.” Cyana let out a defeated laugh. “LA was full of demons- demons I had fled to Korea to avoid. And now- well, tour had brought me right back where I started.”

Cyana stared out into the vast ocean of fanlights trying to catch her breath. Joshua had told her - moments before running onstage - to just breathe. To ignore everything else around her and to just concentrate on the performance, on them. It was easier said than done because now, looking out into the crowd, all Cyana could think about was the probability of one of those fanlights being someone she knew.

A small, miniscule possibility - but it terrified her nonetheless. The same kids that had threatened to destroy her could very well be staring up at her from the sea of fans and she felt too vulnerable.

“Breathe.”

Wonwoo appeared next to her, waving to the fans in their section but solely concentrated on her. He could hear her harsh breathing through the screams. “Breathe, Nana.” He reminded her gently.

It felt comforting knowing at least one person knew everything she was going through.

Taking her hand and placing it on his chest, Wonwoo’s eyes fixed on hers, his expression serious but worried. “Breathe - like me. In and out.”

Cyana did her best to follow the rhythm. “I’m trying.” She gasped out.

“Good.” Wonwoo smiled, and Cyana basked in the light of it. “You’re okay.”

“Mhm.” She nodded. She could make it through the concert - concentrated solely on the two of them, the little bubble that Wonwoo’s presence created around her.

Cyana could barely see her own hands as she stumbled offstage, making her way down the stairs the moment the stage screen had closed behind them. Her heartbeat was taking over her senses, drowning out the farewell cheers of the crowd.

Reaching a hand up to touch her face, she let out a harsh sigh of both relief and disbelief. She was still alive.

“Nana?” DK’s voice cut through the incessant hum in her ears. “Are you okay?”

A hand grabbed her shoulder and she flinched away violently. “Don’t touch me.” She yelped out, terrified as she spun around.

“Okay, I’m sorry!” DK yelped back, equally terrified by her sudden reaction. “You just don’t look so well and I thought- you might need a hand.”

Her cheeks flushed. “I’m fine.” Cyana couldn’t believe she had just snapped at DK, who looked at her with hurt in his eyes as she stumbled away towards their changing rooms.

“She looked almost drunk.” DK confided to the interviewer. “Stumbling around backstage, her hands digging into her neck and ripping out her in-ears. She looked sick. It was terrifying.”

“I’ll go after her.” Joshua called out towards the rest of the group, who were all frozen, unsure of what to do.

“Wait.” Wonwoo grabbed his arm, stopping him. “She’s not in her right mind right now. Something must have happened during the farewell ment. I’ll talk to her.”

“Are you sure?” Joshua eyed the younger boy warily. Since when had Wonwoo and Cyana gotten this close?

Wonwoo nodded, and Joshua could sense he knew something the others did not.

Running after her, Wonwoo skidded to a stop as he spotted Cyana sitting, half lying down on one of the makeup chairs.

“Cyana.” He approached her, raising his hands in a sign of surrender. He didn’t know what mindset she was in at the moment. “Nana-yah.” He reached out a hand to steady her, keeping her upright as she threatened to spill on the floor. “Look at me.”

“I’m sorry.” She panted out, her eyes unfocused. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” The English felt strange against his tongue, but it got some sort of recognition from the girl as she raised her head to meet his eyes.

“It’s all my fault.”

“What is? Cyana, what?”

“Don’t hurt me.”

Wonwoo froze. “I’d never hurt you, Cyana.”

“Chloe.”

“Is that her name? The girl who hurt you back in school? The reason you left?” The questions left him in a flurry as he kept her upright, her entire body weight against his. He could tell she was on the verge of passing out. “Nana. I know you’re struggling, but you need to get it together. Please. Just until we’re back in the car.”

Her eyes were glassy and her stare seemed to go straight through him.

“Please.” He pushed up his glasses to wipe his tears away. Her condition scared him.

“I don’t know how Wonwoo managed to get me back in the car.” Cyana spoke quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t remember much about that night - after the concert. But the others told me I was a mess. A zombie. Living in my skin but not quite there.”

Cyana watched from her place on the bed as Dino paced back and forth across their shared hotel room. Wonwoo had deposited her there, promising to be back once he had found Joshua, instructing a worried Dino to look after her in his absence.

It infuriated Cyana that they were all treating her like glass, even though she knew the emotion was unfair. They were doing their best - and she could feel herself shutting down, her safety mechanisms whirring back into place.

Dino’s footsteps seemed to thud inside her head each time he moved. Her heart was racing as she recalled the familiar face she had seen in the crowd during their farewell ment. How she yelled out her name, and that all too familiar threat. I’ll destroy you, Cyana. She had. She will.

“Could you stop moving?” She suddenly snapped, startling Dino out from his stupor.

He looked up from his phone and frowned. “What?” Cyana had never used such a tone with him before.

“Just- you’re being so fucking loud and it’s actually exploding my head and it’s just- too much!” She yelled out, her hands shaking as she balled them up into fists. “Just-” She forced herself to quiet down, although her body still shook with pent up rage. “Sleep somewhere else tonight.”

“What?” Dino’s irises shook with pooling tears.

Cyana looked away.

“I want to be alone tonight.” Her voice grew weaker. “Please.”

“Oh.”

She couldn’t bear to look at the hurt that must be across his face right now.

“Okay.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

Cyana sunk deeper into the bed, pulling the blankets over her as she squeezed her eyes shut, silent tears pooling from the corners.

She had never felt so horrible.

“You need to tell me what’s happening.” Joshua ambushed her the next morning, setting a breakfast bun and a cup of milk on her bedside drawer.

“Josh. It’s like seven in the morning.” She mumbled, tugging the sheets closer to her as she rolled away.

She was tugged back by a stronger but gentle hand. “I don’t care if it’s seven in the morning.You need to tell me what’s going on.”

Cyana knew he was right.

“I don’t even know where to begin.” Her shoulders slouched as she sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “There’s too much.”

“Start at the beginning.” Joshua sat down on the bed and turned to face her.

“I don’t know what I was expecting, really.” Joshua told the interviewer. “Something about school, or acting, I was sure. But not what really happened. No sane person would’ve expected that. Especially for it to happen to Cyana.”

Joshua listened as Cyana spoke, her voice strangely calm as she led him through it all - starting brand new in highschool, making friends, feeling included. His expression grew darker and darker as the story progressed, eyebrows furrowing as he imagined little Cyana in the scenarios she was speaking of right now.

Cyana told him everything. How her close friends- her ride or dies had betrayed her, turning against her all because of rumors a girl had spread to her classmates. How they had bullied her out of school- out of LA entirely.

“Chloe.” Joshua finally said after she had finished, gently wiping away a lonely tear that had fallen on her cheek. “I heard Wonwoo muttering about that name.”

Cyana nodded. “She was one of my best friends. You know those people who take your phone and unlock it- and you don’t even bat an eye? Or how you subconsciously hand over your bubble tea for them to try. The first person you call when something good or bad happens to you. She was that for me.”

“And she turned everyone against you?”

She hummed. It was a strange feeling - to re-explore the past. Cyana had found she never had any trouble when talking about it, because it’d always sound like a story she had made up. She’d forget it had actually happened to her. That is, until the stories become reality once again. “She said she’d destroy me. And she did. I never found out why, why she woke up one day and decided I was no longer a person who could feel anything she threw at me.”

“And being back in LA, like, triggered something?”

“I guess. I was- it’s silly.”

Joshua shook his head. “Nothing’s ever silly when it comes to stuff like this.”

“Well, I- I was scared my classmates would find me at our concert and try to- hurt me. Or hurt one of you.” Cyana looked down at her lap, her cheeks burning. “It’s stupid.”

“No.” His voice was firm enough to make her look up at him again. “It’s not. Every fear, however irrational you might think it is, stems from something.”

Cyana nodded. “When did you get so wise, Shua?”

Joshua’s lips twitched. “I’ve always been wise.” His expression sterned as he remembered his initial question. “You saw someone, didn’t you? At the farewell ment.”

She let out a cough, choking on her spit. “How did you know?”

Joshua let out a dry chuckle. “I think everyone could tell something went wrong during the ment.”

“I saw her. Chloe. Standing front row, waving a Vernon banner.”

“What did she do?”

“She yelled my name, so I turned around and-” Cyana hesitated, as if the words refused to leave her mouth. “She said she’d destroy me. Just like she did in high school.”

Joshua let out a shaky sigh. “You need to tell Coups. Or management.”

Cyana’s hand shot out to grab Joshua’s leg. “No!” She protested. “I’m sure it’s just in my head or something. We’re leaving LA soon anyways, it’ll-” She tried pasting a smile on her face, as if to reassure both herself and Joshua it’d be okay. “I’ll be fine.”

Joshua hesitated before agreeing. “Alright. But if anything else happens-”

“You’ll be the first to know.” Cyana finished for him. “I promise.”

Joshua stood up, gesturing to the breakfast still sitting on her bedside table. “Eat. You’ve been rotting in that bed for two days. And take a shower after. Nasty.”

She let out a laugh and Joshua brightened visibly at the sound.

“She’s better now.” He told Mingyu, who was waiting anxiously by her door as he stepped out, closing it behind him. “Opened up. Laughing even.”

“Thank god.” Mingyu’s shoulders relaxed.

“You should go shower too.” Joshua made a face as he walked away. “You’ve been rotting by her door ever since she went in. You too, Dino.” He added, spotting the boy who was sitting on the floor in the hallway, eyes unfocused. “Get some sleep, she’s fine.”

Cyana could hear all this through the walls, as she slid back into bed, her breakfast lying cold beside her. Her stomach churned at the thought of eating, and her heart weighed heavy knowing she had slighted Joshua.

Sure, she had told him the truth about what was going on- what had happened. But she wasn’t better. She knew they’d worry themselves sick and be rendered useless the rest of tour if she didn’t get her act together - so that’s what she did. She acted. Thank god for her acting background, or she would’ve collapsed into Joshua’s arms sobbing. She nearly did, but she caught herself.

After all, Cyana was glue. Flexible, strong, hard to get rid of. Whatever broke her down, she’d get back together, she was sure of it.

“Cyana.”

She found herself back in her school’s gymnasium, surrounded by fellow classmates all dressed up. She knew this night. Spring Fling night - where dating was overlooked for one night in an all Catholic school.

“Cyana.”

She turned, and realized who was behind her.

“Matthew.” She gasped out. He hadn’t aged at all, his hair was still infuriating lopsided, curls never landing straight, his eyes crinkled up in a large smile. “What-”

“I heard you’re so obsessed with me you wrote me over 200 songs.” His loud mouth split into a nightmarish grin. “Slut. You spread your legs open for anyone, huh.”

“What?” Cyana gaped at him. But- she had heard all this before.

“Cyana! Look over here!”

She turned, and blinked as a bright camera flash blinded her.

“I’m framing this so I can jack off to it later.” The boy who held the camera was faceless. “You let Matthew, so why not me?”

“I don’t-”

“Cyana!”

“Wonwoo?”

She turned around once again, greeted by Wonwoo, dressed in a pale blue suit, his hair pale white. He smiled at her with his hand outstretched.

“Dance with me?”

She let out a breath of relief, reaching her hand out to take it. All of a sudden, something came flying towards them, causing Wonwoo to slump to the floor, blood dripping from his side, his glasses askew on his face.

“Wonwoo!”

“You really thought we’d let you get your happy ending?” Someone laughed from the shadows of the party, the disco lights reflected against shadowed figures. “After I said I’d destroy you?”

She glanced back down at Wonwoo, who was on the floor, his eyes wide and frozen. She stifled a scream.

“Cyana!”

“Cyana! Wake up!”

a/n: oof. this one's a heavy one. i really wanted to bring this story into cyana's character - and if you can relate to any part of it - hope her journey to healing can help you in yours. fighting !! and remember: kindness is supposed to be a guarantee, not a "if."

228 notes · View notes

magic-shop-stories · 4 months ago

Note

bts (ot7) reacting to reader storming out after argument (angst to fluff please)

💌 Reply:

Thank you for sending in this request!

I had a great time writing it, and I hope it is what you were looking for. I tried to make a mix of angst and fluff, so be ready for some emotions before the comfort kicks in.

Feel free to me know what you think and I hope you'll enjoy! 💜

NAMJOON

THE ARGUMENT

Trigger

You confronted him about missing your anniversary dinner for a last-minute speech and he rationalized: “It’s for sustainability, you know how vital this is.” When you snapped, “What about us?” he cited statistics about “relationship longevity and global impact,” unaware you’d spent weeks planning the date to celebrate finally feeling secure after his past workaholic neglect.

Breaking Point

“You’re just like my parents, always choosing the world over me!” You hurled his favorite philosophy book at the wall and stormed out.

NAMJOON’S REACTION

Emotions

Confusion

“Why can’t they see the bigger picture?”

Guilt

realizes he used data as a shield when your voice cracked

Panic

texts “Wait...” but deletes it

his hands shake

Actions

paces his studio

rearranging books to “organize his thoughts”

finds the anniversary reservation confirmation in his jacket

7 PM, table for two, “Celebrating Us”

Self-Loathing Spiral

“I’m a hypocrite. Preached ‘love as action,’ but failed to act.”

THE SEARCH

Involving Members

Calls Jin

“Hyung, she’s gone...”

Jin sighs

“Remember when I missed Jungkook’s show for Variety? He didn’t speak to me for a week. Go find them, you idiot.”

Yoongi’s Advice

texts him a voice note of your favorite song with a caption:

“Less thinking. More feeling.”

Where He Looks

Park Bench

where he first said “I love you”

Bookstore

your frequent

clerk says you bought a one-way bus ticket

Han River at dawn

sees your silhouette on your bench

the one he’d nicknamed “Our Oasis"

THE REUNION

he’s drenched from rain

hair sticking to his forehead

you’re shivering under a thin shawl

“I… I brought your favourite book.”

he holds out the book

repaired with tape

“I highlighted a new passage.”

you ignore it

“Why’d you come?”

his voice breaks

“Because the ‘world’ I want to save is you.”

Resolution

Letter

inside the book, a handwritten note:

“Page 121: Where I should’ve said ‘I’m sorry.’

Page 204: Where I should’ve kissed you instead of debating.

The margins: Where I’ll write our future—if you let me.”

Actions

wraps his coat around you

pulls you into his chest

“Talk. I’ll just… listen.”

Cuddles

you fall asleep in his lap as he murmurs Rilke poems

his fingers tracing your hair

“I don’t need answers. Just you.”

---------------------------------------------------

JIN

THE ARGUMENT

Trigger

You’d planned a weekend getaway for his birthday, a quiet cabin trip he’d mentioned craving for months. Last minute, he canceled to fill in for a sick colleague on a show, he was now hosting, joking, “Duty calls! Don’t worry, I’ll bring back legendary stories!” When you snapped, “You always choose everyone else over us!” he deflected with a laugh: “Yah, since when are you so dramatic? It’s just one trip!”

Breaking Point

“I’m tired of being the punchline in your life!” You threw his favorite novelty mug (“Worldwide Handsome”) into the sink, shattering it, and stormed out.

JIN’S REACTION

Emotions

Defensiveness

“They’re overreacting. It’s just work!”

Guilt

notices the cabin reservation pinned to the fridge

“Happy Birthday, My Universe” (scrawled in your handwriting)

Panic

texts: “Come back, I’ll make kimchi stew!”

then cringes

“Why did I say that?!”

Actions

stress-cooks enough japchae to feed an army

then dumps it in the trash

plays Super Mario to distract himself

rage-quits when he loses

mumbles: “Should’ve picked Luigi. At least he tries."

THE SEARCH

Involving Members

Jimin Calls

“Hyung, they’re at my studio. Crying. Fix this.”

Jin jokes weakly

“Can’t you just… hug it out for me?”

Jimin snaps

“This isn’t funny. They think you don’t care.”

Jungkook’s Advice

shows up with beer and a glare

“Hyung, you’re being a bad hero. Go fix it.”

Where He Looks

Comedy Club

where you had your first date

empty except for a bartender who recalls you sobbing

Han River Ferris Wheel

finds your scarf tangled in a fence

damp from rain

Jimin’s Studio at 2 a.m.

you’re asleep on a couch

tear-streaked

clutching a photo of your cabin plans

THE REUNION

he’s in a ridiculous banana-patterned pajama set (your gift)

hair a mess

you wake to him kneeling beside the couch

he's holding a rebuilt “Worldwide Handsome” mug

glued together clumsily

gold paint smudged

“I… I brought your mug.”

his voice wavers

“It’s ugly now. Like my priorities.”

you glare

“Why’d aren't you on TV?”

he swallows

“Because my best joke is you… and I’m terrified of bombing.”

Resolution

Gesture

leads you outside to a rented food truck parked nearby

“Jin’s Cabin-on-Wheels: 24/7 Kimchi Stew & Cuddles.”

inside, fairy lights, mini fireplace

a playlist of your favorite ballads

Actions

feeds you stew, blowing on the spoon like you’re five

“I’ll be your Luigi now. Second player. Always.”

Cuddles

you fall asleep wrapped in his arms

he hums “Epiphany”

his thumbs wiping leftover tears

“I’ll cancel everything. Just… stay my universe.”

---------------------------------------------------

YOONGI

THE ARGUMENT

Trigger

You confronted him about skipping your 10-year anniversary dinner to finish a track for a collab. He dismissed it, gruffly muttering, “Deadlines don’t care about dates.” When you snapped, “You’re turning into your father, married to work, not me,” he froze, eyes flashing. “Don’t… don’t compare me to him,” he hissed, slamming his laptop shut. You retaliated: “Then act different!” before storming out.

Breaking Point:

“You’re so scared of being like him, you’ve become worse!” You threw his noise-canceling headphones at the wall, cracking them. The sound of the door slamming echoed like a gunshot.

YOONGI’S REACTION

Emotions

Rage

at the comparison to his father

a raw nerve he’d never let you touch

Shame

sees the anniversary gift you’d left on his desk

a vinyl of his parents’ wedding song with a note:

“Play this when you’re ready to choose us.”

Fear

“What if they’re right?”

Actions

smokes half a pack on the balcony (he swore he'd never smoke again; you made him and quit together)

replaying your words

texts you:

“Come back”

then deletes it

fixates on repairing the broken headphones

fingers trembling

“Stupid. Stupid."

THE SEARCH

Involving Members

Jimin Intervenes

calls, voice uncharacteristically cold

“Hyung, they’re at the old dorm. Crying. Fix this now or I’ll drag you there myself.”

Jin’s Reality Check

leaves a voicemail:

“You’re not your dad. But you’re acting like a prick. Go apologize before I write a diss track about you.”

Where He Looks

His Studio

finds the anniversary vinyl scratched

needle stuck on a loop of his parents’ song

Convenience Store

where you’d shared midnight ramen during hard times

Old Dorm

sees your silhouette through the window

curled on the dusty couch

where he first confessed he “might” love you

THE REUNION

he’s disheveled

hoodie soaked from rain

repaired headphones dangling from his hand

you don’t look up

“I… fixed them”

he rasps

holding out the headphones

“Listen.”

you shake your head

“Why’ bother coming? I thought you need to finish another track...” “Because I did turn into him”

he admits, voice breaking

“But you… you’re the only thing I ever chose right.”

Resolution

Track

forces the headphones onto you

new song plays

sampled cries from your figh

layered with his parents’ wedding melody

morphing into a soft piano refrain

voice memo cuts in:

“I’m sorry. I’m terrified. But I’m yours.”

Actions

kneels, pressing his forehead to your knee

“I don’t know how to be a husband. But I’ll learn. Just… teach me.”

Cuddles

you fall asleep to him humming the piano refrain

his arms locked around you like a vow

“I’ll burn every track if it means keeping this rhythm.”

---------------------------------------------------

J-HOPE

THE ARGUMENT

Trigger

You’d expressed frustration about him prioritizing dance rehearsals over your birthday dinner, the third time he’d canceled plans that month. J-Hope tried to lighten the mood with a playful spin and a joke: “Come on, you know I’m married to the rhythm! Let’s reschedule. I’ll even do the Gangnam Style horse dance!” When you snapped, “Stop turning everything into a joke!” his sunshine smile dropped for a second, but the he was grinning: “Yah, where’s your hope? I’ll make it up to you!”

Breaking Point:

“I’m tired of being your backup dancer!” You threw his cherished "Hope World" hat at the mirror, cracking it, and stormed out.

J-HOPE’S REACTION

Emotions

Panic

“Why couldn’t they see I was trying to make it fun?”

Guilt

finds the birthday gift you’d hidden

a custom dance shoe charm engraved “My Forever Partner”

Self-Doubt

“Am I… am I just noise to them now?”

Actions

plays your shared playlist (“Hopeful Beats”) on loop

pacing until the neighbors complain.

texts a string of emojis (🌞💔🕺)

then erasing them

THE SEARCH

Involving Members

Taehyung's Call

“Hyung, they’re at the dance studio with me. And they’re crying. Fix this. Now. Or they'll finally leave."

J-Hope jokes weakly

“Should I… bring confetti?”

Taehyung hisses

“No. Bring your heart. For once.”

Jungkook's Advice

sends a meme of a crying penguin with text:

“Even penguins mate for life. Step up, loser.”

Where He Looks:

Café

where he first taught you the "Chicken Noodle Soup" dance

empty except for a barista who recalls you muttering:

“No more jokes and sunshine.”

Park with the light-up fountain

finds your lost key under a bench

Dance Studio at midnight

where you’re slumped under the mirrored wall

tear-streaked

hugging his cracked Hope World hat

THE REUNION

arrives breathless

hair messy

wearing the ridiculous matching sweat set you’d gifted him last Christmas

you don’t look at him

“I… brought a new routine,” he murmurs

voice trembling

cues a song “Spring Day”

you glare, tho weakly

“Go away, why coming?” “Because without you,” he whispers, “my rhythm’s just… noise.”

Resolution

Dance

performs a raw, unchoreographed routine

no spins, no smiles

just aching, clumsy movements mirroring your pain

ends on his knees, hands outstretched

“I’ll follow your beat now. Show me.”

Actions

slides the dance shoe charm onto your finger like a ring

“Partners don’t lead alone. I’m… I’m sorry.”

Cuddles

you collapse into him

his heartbeat syncing with yours

he hums “Chicken Noodle Soup” off-key

“I’ll cancel every rehearsal. Just… stay my duet.”

---------------------------------------------------

JIMIN

Trigger

You confronted him after he forgot your anniversary, not just the date, but the handwritten letter you’d left on his pillow that morning. He’d been distracted, rehearsing a solo performance for weeks, and when you snapped, “Do I even matter anymore?” he laughed nervously, ruffling your hair: “Aish, of course you do! I’ll make it up to you—double dates, triple cuddles!” But his phone buzzed with a choreographer’s message mid-sentence, and he glanced at it, murmuring, “Just… give me five minutes.”

Breaking Point

“You’ve always got five minutes for everyone else, but never for us!” You threw his favorite silver necklace, the one he’d gifted you after his first solo win, onto the floor, the chain snapping. His smile vanished as you stormed out.

JIMIN’S REACTION

Emotions

Panic

“Why did I laugh? Why did I laugh?!”

Guilt

finds your letter under his pillow

“To the man who taught me love is a verb. Happy Anniversary.”

Self-Loathing

“I’m worse than a hypocrite. I’m a failure.”

Actions

calls you 12 times

leaving voicemails that start with jokes and devolve into tearful rambles

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry...pick up, please...”

punches a practice room mirror

then sobs as he bandages his hand

smearing blood on your letter

THE SEARCH

Involving Members

Jungkook’s Intervention

finds Jimin hyperventilating in the dance studio

“Hyung, they’re at the train station. I’ll drive. Now.”

Yoongi's Advice

texts him a photo of your shared locket (half on Jimin’s neck, half on yours)

caption: “Fix this. Or I’ll steal your spot as their favorite.”

Where He Looks

Rooftop Café

where he first confessed

empty except for a waiter who says you paid for two coffees but drank alone

Your old Dance Academy

where you met

finds your old photo torn and taped to the mirror

Train Station

sees you slumped on a bench

one-way ticket in hand

clutching the broken necklace

THE REUNION

he sprints through the station

hair wild

bandaged hand bleeding through gauze

you stand as the train announcement blares

“Don’t go,”

he pleads, voice raw

“I’ll—I’ll dance for you. Every day. Just… don’t go.”

you freeze

“Why should I stay?” “Because I’m nothing without you,” he chokes. “All those stages? They’re empty if you’re not watching.”

Resolution

Gesture

pulls out his phone

plays a voice memo titled “Jimin’s Truth”

his shaky voice sings “Promise” acapella

lyrics rewritten: “I’ll be your audience, your mirror, your always…”

Actions

kneels, pressing the repaired necklace into your palm

“I don’t deserve you. But I’ll spend forever earning you.”

Cuddles

you miss the train

he wraps you in his jacket

humming into your hair as you cry

“I’ll cancel every show. Just… let me be your encore.”

--‐-‐----------‐‐--------------‐--------‐----------------------------

TAEHYUNG

THE ARGUMENT

Trigger

You’d planned a stargazing trip to celebrate the anniversary of your first date, a tradition where he’d once whispered, “You’re my favorite constellation.” But he canceled last minute, lost in a shooting project he called “Eclipse of the Heart,” muttering, “The moonlight’s perfect tonight. I’ll make it up to you, yeah?” When you snapped, “You care more about capturing light than being here!” he sighed. “Love’s a long exposure, baby. You’ll see.”

Breaking Point

“Stop hiding behind your lens and just look at me!” You smashed the SD card from his camera, filled with timelapses of sunsets, not your face, and stormed out.

TAEHYUNG’S REACTION

Emotions

Defensiveness

“They don’t get it. Art is how I love.”

Guilt

finds the star map you’d drawn for the trip

labeled “Our Galaxy”

Fear

“What if I’ve framed them out of the picture?”

Actions

takes 100 photos of empty spaces you once filled

your side of the bed, your coffee mug, the vacant passenger seat

texts cryptic song lyrics:

“The view’s too bright without your shadow.”

deletes them

THE SEARCH

Involving Members

Jin’s Intervention

calls, uncharacteristically stern

“They’re at the planetarium. And they’re not alone, some guy’s explaining Orion. Fix this before it's too late.”

Jungkook’s Advice

sends a photo of Taehyung’s own caption on a decade-old post:

“Love is the only exposure that matters.”

Where He Looks

Abandoned Train Yard

where he took your first portrait

finds the Polaroid you’d torn

painstakingly taped back together

Art Gallery

where he once exhibited “Soul in Monochrome”

sees your initials scrawled angrily on a guestbook page: “Framed out.”

Planetarium:

finds you under the projected stars,

a stranger beside you pointing out Cassiopeia

his anger ans jealousy immediately kicking in

THE REUNION

he strides in

camera slung around his neck

wearing the tattered flannel you’d gifted him

the stranger excuses himself awkwardly

“I… brought a new exhibit,”

he rasps, projecting a montage onto the dome

every photo you’d ever taken together

blurred except for your face

you cross your arms

“Why’d you come?” “Because,” he murmurs, “my favorite constellation… is the one in your eyes.”

Resolution

Gesture

hands you a vintage camera loaded with a single photo

a double exposure of your face overlaid with the star map

“You’re my forever focus. I just… forgot to adjust the lens.”

Actions

leads you outside

where he’s recreated your stargazing spo

blanket, telescope, and a playlist titled “Our Universe”

“No more eclipses. Just us.”

Cuddles

you fall asleep under the stars

his heartbeat syncing with yours

he hums “Winter Bear,”

fingers tracing constellations on your skin

“I’ll burn every negative. Just… stay my light.”

---------------------------------------------------

JUNGKOOK

THE ARGUMENT

Trigger

You confronted him after he missed your birthday to train for a charity marathon he’d impulsively signed up for. He’d brushed it off, flexing with a grin: “Gonna crush this, it’s for kids in need! We’ll celebrate big after, yeah?” When you snapped, “You care more about everyone else than us!” he scoffed, “You’re overreacting. It’s just one day!” You retaliated by swiping his alcohol bottles off the shelf, glass shattering as you hissed, “Go marry your finish line, then!”

Breaking Point

“You’re so obsessed with being perfect, you’ve forgotten how to be human!” You slammed the door, leaving him staring at the birthday cake you’d baked, now smashed on the floor, icing smeared among shards of broken glass.

JUNGKOOK’S REACTION

Emotions

Defensiveness

“It’s for charity, why can’t they see that?”

Guilt

spots the melted candle from your cake stuck to a bottle shard

your note “Make a wish… for us” half-burnt

Self-Loathing

grabs a cigarette (a habit he’d quit years ago)

hands shaking

“Fuck. I’m exactly who they think I am.”

Actions

texts “Wait...please” repeatedly

deleting each one

punches the wall

splitting his knuckles

Relapse

smokes on the balcony

ash mixing with cake crumbs

stares at the marathon flyer: “Run for Hope”

THE SEARCH

Involving Members

Namjoon’s Intervention

finds him chain-smoking

disheveled

“Hyung, it’s for kids, how is that wrong?!”

Namjoon sighs

“Saving the world starts at home. You’re losing yours.”

Yoongi’s Pragmatism

tosses him car keys

“They’re at the track. And quit the cigs. You’re not a martyr.”

Where He Looks

Charity Office

sees your donated birthday gift

a check with: “For the kids. -Anonymous"

realizes you’d supported his cause all along

Trail

finds your torn birthday note

crumbled in a trash can

“Wish: Less heroics, more us.”

Track

sees you sitting on the bleacher

hoodie soaked

clutching the charity race bib he’d left behind

THE REUNION

sprints to you

reeking of smoke and regret

you don’t flinch

“I… dropped out.”

he rasps, voice raw

“The only kids I wanna help… are ours someday.” “Why now?” “Because charity’s empty if I lose you."

he chokes, tears mixing with rain

“I’m not a hero. I’m just… yours.”

Resolution

Gesture

hands you a new charity donation receipt

in your name, matching his marathon funds

“You’re my cause now. Let’s run this together.”

Actions

kneels, holding you close

“You’re my finish line. Always.”

Cuddles

you collapse into his chest

his heartbeat erratic

he whispers, “I’ll burn the cigs. Just… stay my always.”

129 notes · View notes

littlemisssatanist · 7 months ago

Text

Hitlist

the jackal x fem reader

~ YAH i still post fic

~ reader is written to be black

~ you have a last name 'selassie'.

~ kinda smutty but more sexual tension than actual sex.

~ if you see any typos,,, no you didn't i wrote this on my phone leave me alone

~ i need this man pregnant tbh

~ CHECK OUT MY ART OF THIS MAN

part one | part two

He crouched low on the edge of a tall building, his eyes fixated on his target below. The wind blew against his face, the city sprawled out beneath him in perfect stillness. His finger hovered over the trigger, steady and patient, waiting for the perfect moment. The target was almost within range.

Then, a sound behind him. Footsteps, soft but unmistakable. His body stiffened, muscles tensing. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He didn’t flinch, but every instinct he had screamed at him that he wasn’t alone anymore.

Slowly, he shifted, hand moving to his sidearm, ready to strike. He had to decide: eliminate the threat behind him, or finish the job he was hired for.

He didn’t get a lot of time to make a choice.

“Shh,” You muttered, coming up behind him. You kneeled next to him, dropping a hand to card through his hair. “It’s just me.”

The Jackal’s eyes widened in both surprising and recognition. He let go of his sidearm, slowly, relaxing the slightest fraction.

He whispered, never taking his eyes from the scope, keeping his rifle fixed on the target. “What are you doing here, Selassie?”

“Aw,” you said. “I thought we were closer than that.” You placed a hand on his nap, the gesture both comforting and threatening.

The touch of your hand sent a shiver through him, barely perceptible if you hadn’t been searching for it. He fought the urge to lean into it, but training and caution held him in place. He grunted in response.

“This isn’t a social visit,” he said, voice low and steady. “You’re distracting me.”

“No,” you agreed. “Not a social visit.”

You gazed at him, amused. Your thumb rubbed the skin in slow motions, brushing against his hair. “Think of this as a test.”

He clenched his jaw. “A test for who?”

“You. Me. Us, perhaps,” you said idly. “I’m trying to decide whether or not I should kill you.”

The Jackal bristled at your words but didn’t turn around. He knew you well enough to know that she didn’t often make idle threats. But why would you even consider it? The two of you had worked together before, successfully.

“Why would you need to decide that?” He asked, his voice steady despite the growing tension.

“Someone’s heard about your work in Germany,” you said, continuing to massage his nape. “They’re impressed. Or, rather, threatened. Paid me a pretty sum to get rid of you.”

You knew that the words hit him like a bullet. His muscles tensed, hand clutching the scope tight, knuckles white. Someone was after him— and they had even gone so far as to hire you for the job. It felt like betrayal.

“Did you take the offer?” He asked, struggling to keep his voice level.

“Maybe, maybe not,” you said. Your grip on his nape tightened. “I haven’t decided yet. That’s why it’s a test.”

The sense of betrayal was quickly replaced by anger. He clenched his jaw, eyes darkening with barely suppressed anger. He could feel every touch of your hand like a brand on his skin.

“And how am I supposed to pass this test?”

“Focus,” you warned as he started to turn, forcing his head back around. “Go ahead. Take the shot. But don’t get distracted.”

You leaned in for the last part, whispering it into his ear.

The command, given so calmly, sent a wave of both irritation and desire through him. Your breath against his ear sent a shiver down his spine. For a moment, he was tempted to throw away everything and turn to face you. But the target was still in sight, and the job had to come first.

He inhaled deeply, steadying himself. Focusing on the target, he placed his finger on the trigger, ready to pull.

You pressed your lips against his temple, raising your hand to grasp his hair tightly.

The unexpected sensation sent a jolt through his body. For a split second, his hand twitched on the trigger, and he almost squeezed prematurely. But he caught himself just in time, biting back a low hiss of frustration. His focus wavered slightly, his body fighting the distraction.

“Damn it,” he snarled, trying to steady himself again. “You said ‘focus!’”

“Mhm,” you said, digging your nose into the crook of his neck. “I also said ‘don’t get distracted.’ This is the distraction.”

You kissed the hollow of his neck, dragging your teeth against his skin lightly.

He shivered, every nerve ending responding to you touch. He had to bite back another hiss, a wave of heat flooding through him. It was as if every cell in his body had become hypersensitive to your presence. “This is not fair,” he grumbled. “It’s a trick.”

“Of course it’s a trick,” you murmured against his neck. “That’s the whole point. Test, remember?” She worked a hickey into his skin, licking her work before leaning away to admire it. “Clock is ticking.”

The mark you left behind on his skin burned, and he felt a sharp pang of both desire and annoyance. It was becoming increasingly hard to concentrate with you touching him, but he had a mission, and he was nothing if not disciplined.

“And what if I ignore the test and take the shot anyway?” He retorted, doing his best to ignore the heat that was spreading throughout his entire body.

“That’s the point, J,” you muttered, slipping your hand beneath his shirt. “Go on.”

He had to strangle a gasp when you touched his bare skin. It was becoming harder and harder to resist; the urge to turn and capture you in his arms was almost overwhelming. He gritted his teeth. “I should kill you for this.”

“Probably,” you agreed. “But aren’t you wondering why I haven’t killed you yet? I’ve had so many chances, with you acting so desperately.”

Your words stung a bit, but he couldn’t deny that you were right. He had let his guard down around you more than he cared to admit. He knew he needed to remain focused, but your touch and whispered words were pulling him in.

He let out a low and frustrated groan. “Don’t toy with me, Selassie. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Of course I do,” you said, bemused. “That’s the test, J. Don’t get distracted, that’s the only thing that needs to happen here. I want to see if you can retain your skills even when you’re so pathetically horny for me.”

Your words were a punch to the gut. Heat coiled within him, and he couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down his spine. Damn you, you knew exactly what buttons to press.

He was fighting a losing battle, his body betraying him despite his best efforts. And you knew.

“You’re cruel,” he managed to whisper through gritted teeth.

“Just take the damn shot!” You snapped, grabbing his hair and pulling at it meanly. “Hurry up. And don’t fuck this up.”

He let out a hiss of pain, but used the brief shock to rein in his focus. The sharp tugging served as a brutal reminder of the task at hand. His body was a mess of contradictions, warring between desire and discipline.

His hand steadied on his rifle, and he refocused his gaze through his scope. Every muscle was taut, a coiled spring ready to snap.

“I won’t mess this up,” he said through clenched teeth. “Just… don’t touch me.”

“Fine,” you let go of him, rolling your eyes. You took a gun out of your pocket and pressed it up against his head. “This better motivation?”

The cold. Barrel of the gun pressed against his skin was a stark contrast to the warmth of your touch. A jolt of adrenaline coursed through him, sharpening his senses and bringing him fully back into focus. his mission was the top priority, and he would not let you distract him further.

He took a steady breath, his voice steady despite the threat looming over him. “Much better.”

You clicked your tongue, taking off the safety. “Go on, then. Take the shot. And you had better hope it’s perfect, else the next one is going straight through your brain.”

“You’re quite the menace,” he murmured tightly.

He took aim, his hand steady and sure. The target was still blissfully ignorant, completely unaware of the drama unfolding above him.

With a single, swift movement, the Jackal pulled the trigger. The shot echoed in the crisp night air.

He couldn’t help but hold his breath for a brief moment, the stillness of the night settling after the shot. It had been a perfect shot, and he could feel the tension in your body behind him.

His heard was racing, adrenaline mixing with a sense of triumph. He didn’t look away from the target’s fallen body. “Test passed,” he said, voice laced with a hint of satisfaction.

“Yes,” you said, voice oddly thick with… something. “Very nice shot,” you muttered, stepping away.

The sudden lack of your presence sent a pang of disappointment through him, but he tried to ignore it. You sounded… strange, almost breathless.

He finally turned around, lowering the rifle, and studied your expression carefully. There was something in your eyes, a hint he couldn’t quite place.

You sound almost impressed.” He said in a teasing tone.

You shrugged, not afraid to admit it. “I’m easily impressed when you’re around.” You glanced behind you. “We should go before the police show up. Someone will have heard that shot.”

He couldn’t help the slight smirk that tugged at the order of his lips at your compliment. He was still buzzing from the adrenaline of the kill, as well as your presence.

“Lead the way. And no more tests.”

part one | part two

#the day of the jackal #the day of the jackal x reader #eddie redmayne #eddie redmayne x reader

166 notes · View notes

personasintro · 2 years ago

Text

Mutual Help | #43

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, Please, be aware this chapter is NOT suitable for sensitive people! It’s also very important chapter in this story but if you’re sensitive person and get easily triggered by sensitive topics, do not read it.

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.4k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

It had been one of those evenings when they all had decided to meet, well most of them, at Hoseok's place. It hadn't been that long since they hung out together, hence the New Year's Trip that happened at the end of December and ended at the beginning of January. Ever since you left that day, the whole atmosphere kind of shifted. Not because of you though. Because of everything that happened which yes, involved you but it's nowhere near your fault.

This had been the first time they had been all hanging out together after that trip, unfortunately without your presence. Of course, you wouldn't have come either way. Not just because that evening had been your first day working back at the club, but also because Kiko had been there too.

Jungkook knows you well enough you wouldn't have come even if he asked. Plus, he knows it wouldn't have been a good idea anyway.

And maybe he was naive enough to think that evening would run smoothly and it really would be just one of those evenings when he gets to hang out and laugh with his friends. But was he wrong...

"Yah! You already ate all of it!" Seokjin's dramatic voice booms out, causing Hoseok to flinch at the sudden outburst that is aimed at Jimin who innocently widens his eyes and opens his mouth.

Jungkook snorts under his breath, secretly snickering at his friend's red neck.

"It's been here for an hour and anyone barely touched it!" Jimin finds his voice, frowning at the oldest that starts to complain under his breath while Jimin just scoffs and places the empty ball back on the coffee table.

Kiko chuckles, catching Jungkook's amused eyes as he shakes his head at them which makes her chuckle even more. His arm is stretched behind her, resting on the back of the couch as she eyes Seokjin and Jimin.

"Hobi, you've got some more snacks in the kitchen, right?" she asks her friend, causing Hoseok to think for a second before he nods.

"Yeah, I think so."

Kiko stands up, noticing Jungkook's curious eyes as she gives him a smile before she looks at everyone. "I'm gonna make you some more snacks."

She hears a few complaints of how she doesn't have to bother, but she just waves her hand already disappearing in the kitchen. After looking for different ingredients, she finds more popcorn and chips which she automatically pulls out, but that doesn't seem enough for five men that could eat all day. Remembering Jimin saying something about craving for something sweet and Hoseok agreeing half an hour ago, she thinks it through as an idea pops in her head. Checking more ingredients, she lets out a content grin when she finds all the ingredients for pancakes while she hears a distant bickering between what sounds like Seokjin and Hoseok, which makes her laugh a little. She focuses on her preparing everything for the pancakes.

It's quick and easy, her hands moving automatically until she's turning off the stove. Opening a glass jar of hazelnut spread, she notices Hoseok coming into the kitchen as he lets out a grumble, saying something about having to get soda for Jimin which she just responds to with a giggle.

He grabs the bottle of soda, throwing a few glances at her which she doesn't notice, not until he sets the bottle on the kitchen counter, obviously not joining the guys right away. She chuckles, a soft smile appearing on her lips as she questionably looks at him.

"Jungkook is about to go." he informs her, knowing she knows about his plans and to be honest, he's not even sure why he started like that. He had to somehow start this conversation. It's been bothering him for quite some time now.

"Ah, yeah, he told me." she shrugs, not giving too much attention to it. What else does she have to say?

"So... you and Y/N are still on bad terms?" he asks unsurely, fully knowing the answer to that and probably Kiko knows that, especially her own best friend because they had this conversation before. Still, she tenses a little at his question.

"I... I guess. I apologized but I know I made a mistake, she has every right to be mad at me." she admits, shrugging even though it bothers her.

"This is ruining you, I can see it. Are you really okay with her hating you?" he exclaims in disbelief, still keeping his voice down though.

Kiko stops what she's doing, letting out a huge sigh before she gives a look to him. "No, Hobi, I'm not," she says slightly bitterly, "I know how much it hurts Jungkook to see us not getting along, but it's my fault and I'm taking all that responsibility for it."

"And like I said, it's ruining you," Hoseok says right away, brows pinched together as a displeased frown makes its way on his usually bright face. "It's hurting you and you're not doing anything about it."

"What else can I do?" she exclaims suddenly, clearing her throat as she shifts her gaze away from him. Hoseok means well, she knows that. But talking about it and him trying to solve all of this is just impossible.

"Talk to Jungkook." he proposes which makes her scoff.

"I talked to him about it, he didn't want to know anything else and I respect that. I already ruined a huge part of our relationship, I don't want to ruin the rest of it." she tells him and his gaze softens when her voice quivers slightly.

She holds a lot of emotions inside her and like Hoseok said many times, it's ruining her inside. Saying Jungkook doesn't want to know is just an excuse, so she doesn't have to face her biggest fear. But Hoseok knows her well enough to know, it's hurting her but she's desperately trying to cope with it because of Jungkook. Because she loves him and knows she doesn't deserve him.

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it. You're just telling that to yourself because you're scared," he tells her honestly, tone getting hushed and stern because she's too stubborn to even consider other solutions. "This is not gonna end up good, Kik and you know it."

Her eyes snap to his face, features hardening because she doesn't want to hear any of this. But Hoseok is determined and even though he's coming from a good place because he truly cares for her, she doesn't want to hear it. Just the thought of it pains her, it's hurting her too much.

"Hobi, please," she murmurs, heart hurting from his stern glance he's giving her. "Don't make this any harder."

"You've made this harder for yourself Kik and you know it," he reminds her and she quickly catches onto the sadness and disappointment in his voice. "This is hard for me too. Jungkook is my friend too."

She knows it, she freaking knows it and him talking about it makes her feel like she's about to burst in tears any second. The guilt eating her out alive to the point she can't pretend to be okay. But things are okay when she's with Jungkook. He has that effect on her and although she knows she hurt him the most and he deserves much better. Only he wouldn't be so sweet and never tried to get her back.

She's selfish probably, she should've told him 'no' when he approached her and tried to win her back. She shouldn't have succumbed to her heart and feelings she has felt for him. She thought maybe it's another chance for her to make things right. But she got into even a bigger mess without Jungkook knowing.

"I'm sorry..." she whispers, staring down at her feet in shame.

"No, Kik," Hoseok shakes his head, his own heart cracking at the sight of seeing her in such pain, not mentioning the same guilt he's been seeing for months now. That's why he has decided to voice his concerns to her. He can't see her destroying herself.

And that's why he opens his mouth again, determined to talk to her despite her current state of breaking down again. "I'm your friend, I told you I've got your back. I don't mean to sound as if I'm blaming you... but think about Jungkook. You've to tell him, you should've told him sooner."

Disappointment is written on his face this time, not even surprised when Kiko starts disapprovingly shaking her head. But he sees it. The fear. "No, no he doesn't wanna know,"

She sees the way he raises his brow at her, knowing she's in denial and he's about to open his mouth but she quickly continues.

"Our relationship is good, Hobi, I can't risk ruining it any further. I'm aware everything is my fault and there is not a day I don't think about it, but I love him. I love him so much and now I finally got him back. Please."

It's breaking his heart to see her beg him, it's hard to stay determined especially when she's on the verge of tears, sounding weak. But if he doesn't stay determined and make her see the truth she's so desperately afraid of, it's going to keep hurting and ruining her. She's never going to be truly happy. Not saying that Jungkook deserves to know the whole truth.

Kiko is his best friend, but like it's been said, Jungkook is his friend too. It's hard to look him in the face, knowing things Jungkook doesn't know of. It makes him feel bad and guilty. Kiko is not the only one affected. This has and will affect even more people.

"This has gone too far, Jungkook might be okay with it because he loves you... but he deserves to know. It's hard for me too, but I'm not sure how long I can take it." He reminds her gently.

"Hobi!" she exclaims, panic visible in her eyes as Hoseok shakes his head and she knows he's already decided.

"If you don't tell him, I will."

And that is everything she's been scared of, selfishly feeling betrayal from her best friend even though she realizes he means no harm. She's been hurting him too, the weight of her actions not hurting only her and Jungkook, but him too.

"You wouldn't do that..." she shakily whispers, tears pooling in her eyes as he feels the need to look away.

"I'm sorry, Kik. I know I promised you, but this has gone too far. Jungkook is gonna hate both of us, but it's better than him not knowing the whole truth while you're torturing yourself every day. You might think you're happy but deep down, it's always gonna live inside you. And the truth always comes out, the sooner it'll it's better. For everyone."

She's shaking her head, hands clutching her chest as she's about to desperately trying to make him change his mind but before she can even open her mouth, she registers a movement from the corner of her eyes hearing another presence in the room. Her heart drops as soon as she's met with Jungkook, his face almost unreadable but yet one look at him, and she knows. He heard them.

She barely notices the gasp that leaves her mouth, her insides rolling at the thought of Jungkook hearing their conversation that was never supposed to happen. Her already broken state doesn't make it hard for her to cry, which pains both of them and Hoseok knows it has to be done. Obviously, he didn't know about Jungkook listening to all of this but maybe that's for the best. Now she can't walk away from it and has to face it.

And she's about to lose it when she wants to get closer to Jungkook but he stops her immediately, keeping distance between them.

"I can explain," she jumps to say, "W-we were just talking and--"

"I don't wanna hear anything right now," he cuts her off, shaking his head.

She wants to be mad at Hoseok, for talking about such a thing right now when not only Jungkook, but the rest of the guys are here. Anyone could hear and the only person she wouldn't want to hear is standing right in front of her with a hurt yet empty face. Hoseok senses the tension, knowing he shouldn't be here right now and he excuses himself.

And when she tries to talk to him, explaining it even though she's not sure what to say, he stops her. He sees how confused he is by all of this, his thoughts are not settled and her trying to talk to him would just make it worse.

When 'no more secrets' makes it out of his mouth, she gasps and tries to make her way towards him again but he stops her again, but this time with a glare.

"No, whatever Hoseok wants you to tell me, you will. Tomorrow."

And those are his final words before he walks out of the room, her heart dropping and cracking all over again. Her weak legs not being able to hold her as the panic rising inside her makes her cry even more. And the only person who could bring her comfort just left, wanting from her something she's been afraid of.

The brown liquid in a cup does nothing but make Jungkook's stomach churn, it settles weirdly in his stomach as soon as he takes a sip, fully aware he has barely slept last night. How could he? Even though his body was pleading for some rest, his mind was too preoccupied with what he heard. And when his eyes finally closed for a short period of time, both mind and body not being able to take in the countless thoughts and tiredness, his dreams had been filled with different scenarios of Kiko and Hoseok. Together.

Instead of getting some energy from his usual morning coffee, he feels like throwing it up as his stomach protests whenever the brown liquid slides down his throat. Ever since he left Hoseok's place, he hasn't been the same.

On his way to get you, all he could think about was their conversation he wasn't supposed to hear. What has surprised him the most is the guilt in Hoseok's voice, telling him that he's much more involved than Kiko has ever admitted.

The constant support she has gotten from him, the way he has been always there for her and even in the times when they had been broken up, Hoseok always treated her as a delicate doll – as if she wasn't the one who broke up with Jungkook. As if she wasn't the one who hurt him by breaking up with him and then admitting she cheated on him.

Jungkook remembers the way his hand gripped the steering wheel tightly just at the thought of the only rational guess he could think of. When she assured him Hoseok is not the one she cheated with, he trusted her because her reaction seemed legit. But now that he heard their conversation and especially heard Hoseok, not just his words but the tone he was talking with. Sad, guilty, determined for Jungkook to know the truth.

He can't possibly be in this relationship when there's something happening behind his back, his curiosity and worry increasing rapidly. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to know any details of how it happened and with whom it happened. The less details he knows, the less it hurts and he can't possibly imagine how it'll hurt once he finds out who she cheated with. But now, after hearing Kiko and Hoseok talking and everything about it, he's determined to know the truth.

The ride to the club you're working at was blurry and not even the sight of you already waiting for him with a tired yet soft smile couldn't take his mind off anything. Still, he tried to appear as if nothing happened, spent almost an half of the ride with you complaining how tired you are but telling him you kind of missed it. You even admitted it took your mind off Haneul which relatively, you've been doing fine without him. Jungkook knows keeping yourself busy makes you feel better for numerous reasons.

And on your part, it wasn't that hard to understand that Jungkook was acting somehow weird. He wasn't talkative as usual and for a moment you thought that the cause of him being so silent and distant, is because it's already late and he has to pick you up and drive you home. But who were you kidding? Jungkook was the first one that proposed picking you up and you knew that it's not the real reason behind his weird behavior.

And fuck, he wanted to tell you so bad. He didn't even know what he really thought about it. Is he suspecting Hoseok of being the guy Kiko cheated with? Deep down, he knows he does. It makes sense but there's still a part of him that denies it, thinking Hoseok – his friend – wouldn't be able to do that to him. Does it even make sense? Hoseok and Kiko had never been that close.

As Jungkook felt quite overwhelmed, a lump in his throat almost hurting, he noticed how tired you were and that's when you voiced out your concern, asking him if he's alright, he just waved you off and assured you everything's fine.

Both of you knowing that's not it and there's something more to his behavior, you respectfully minded your own business knowing if he wants to tell you, he will.

Jungkook isn't even sure how you would react. Would you think Hoseok is able to do that to him? He knows there's some kind of weird tension between you and him, which undoubtedly is caused by the fact he's Kiko's best friend and he's always there to prove that to you. It's almost funny because both of you are actually the same. You and him are both protecting your best friends, proving it to each other.

Earlier in the morning, he had decided and quickly did it before he could change his mind, he texted Kiko the time he wanted to meet. When she had replied she'll be there, he had felt even more stressed from the entire situation.

And he still feels like it, even when she's sitting on the opposite side of the dining table, nervously gripping the cup of tea he made her. A little trace of the lack of sleep is evident on her face and she seems just as stressed as he does. He can't bring himself to feel satisfied about it. Even though there's this hidden anger and annoyance inside of him (mostly hurt and pain though), he can't feel better to see she doesn't look any better in the first place. He still cares for her.

Perhaps, this is his fault too. He did give her a second chance, he wouldn't even be in this situation right now if he didn't. Yet, he doesn't regret fighting for their love and giving their relationship a second chance, no matter what anyone else thinks about it. To be fair, it's not anyone else's business either.

Kiko's shaky hands don't go unnoticed by Jungkook as she brings the herbal tea closer to her lips to take a sip. She's making him even anxious, to see her be this nervous and he's not even sure if he wants to hear everything. No, he has to... he's just trying to avoid all the pain he's been avoiding for months.

He had been happy when they got together. It was something new for both of them, earning back that trust which wasn't easy but easier with the love they have been feeling for each other. Will that love be enough this time?

"Did you drive here in this state?" He can't help but speak up for the first time after they greeted each other and Jungkook led her to his kitchen.

He still might feel like he's about to burst from all the uncomfortable emotions pooling inside him, but he's still worried when he sees how much she's affected by this. Even when she finally gets the courage to look at him, to see his tired and puffy eyes from the lack of sleep, he doesn't mistake the pain behind her brown irises.

"No," She finds her voice, it comes out raspy and makes her clear her throat slightly as she looks away. "Hoseok drove me here. He's waiting outside."

Jungkook tenses at the mention of Hoseok, his thoughts and fear proving right so far but all he can manage to do is nod. He's definitely involved in this. He knew from the beginning Hoseok knows more than Jungkook does, but the thought of Hoseok being the guy is far worse.

He rubs his face, covering his mouth for a second as he looks at her. Their eyes meet, sharing a similar pain and discomfort and he swears, he can't take it any longer. "It's him, isn't it?"

Kiko blinks a few times, her hands shakily putting down the cup. "What do you mean?"

She knows what he means, she knows what he's aiming at and she has the audacity to try to buy more time by beating around the bush. That makes him frown and an unappreciative look is sent her way as he's trying to keep it cool.

However, he faces her confidently with an arched brow, silently calling her out on her stalling. She knows very well what he's about to ask.

"Hoseok," he says simply, "He's the one you cheated on me with." He doesn't ask, he simply states it as he lets his fearful thoughts that have been haunting ever since he heard their conversation out of his mouth.

There's a beat of silence, Kiko's pupils widening for a moment as she stares at Jungkook with a slightly opened mouth. Her shaky hands land on her lap under the table, away from Jungkook's stern yet hurtful eyes.

"No," she murmurs, shaking her head before she gets the courage to finally face him again, this time with desperation clear on her saddened features. "Of course not. I already told you it's not him."

That makes Jungkook scoff a little, shaking his head because how can he be sure she's telling the truth? When he looks at her, he doesn't see any traces of lie or something that could indicate her lying. But still, he has his own doubts and trust issues that are no one's fault but her.

"Why not?" he shrugs bitterly, clenching his jaw. "It'd make sense." He sounds bitter and petty, he fully realizes it but he can't help it. The thought of them together, hurting him like that and doing something so disgusting behind his back makes him sick.

"Jungkook, please," Kiko shakes her head, voice rising slightly. "Do you honestly think he'd be able to do that to you?"

"I've never thought you'd be able to do that to me and here we are," he exclaims, outstretching his arms all of a sudden which makes her eyes widen for a moment before they're filled with guilt. The same guilt he's seen countless times and that's why he wants to discuss this problem once and for all. "Now tell me the truth... it was him, right?"

Jungkook isn't aware of the way her heart drops, all he can see is her looking extremely guilty and sad. She's breaking and a tiny part of him feels bad for it, he still loves her after all. No matter how sad, heartbroken and angry he might be, she's still his girlfriend who he loves despite what's about to come. Surely, it won't be any good news and he's aware of it. It's not something he can prepare himself for. He has to face it.

"No, I already told you," she tells him desperately, letting out a shaky breath as she closes her eyes for a moment, feeling them burn. "It's not him."

He looks at her skeptically, searching her face that has the courage to look back at him. She knows he's trying to see whether she's telling the truth or not, so she faces him even when tears are pooling in her eyes.

And Jungkook doesn't get it. If it's not Hoseok, why the hell does she seem so guilty about it? Would she feel this guilty if it was a stranger? Or someone from her past he hasn't met? One thing is sure, she feels guilty no matter who it is. However, he can't help but let his mind go wild and the possible options.

Is it someone else from their friends circle? The thought of it being-- no, he can't even think that. They wouldn't do that to him. They've been there for him through this time. She's not even on Taehyung's good side at the moment.

And something snaps inside him. All he wants is for her to talk, to tell him everything but so far she's just answering his guess. He can't control himself when the next words leave his mouth.

"Then fucking tell me," he slaps his hand against the dining table, a loud thud erupting in the kitchen as he stands up abruptly, closing his eyes as fingers run through his raven hair.

Despite his state, he notices Kiko flinch as she stares at him completely shocked, not expecting him to snap like that.

"Sorry," he murmurs an apology, not being able to look at her as he lets go of his hair. "Just-- just tell me everything. I need to know."

"I didn't want to... I still don't want to tell you," she murmurs, shamefully looking at her hands before she meets Jungkook's empty look. "You're gonna hate me and I'm not sure if I'm ready for that."

"I haven't hated you, not even when you came clean about your cheating. Don't you see that I'm trying? I gave you a second chance, I'm trying to find out the truth I deserve to know." He's not careful with his words, letting his heart speak as his tone turns into an accusatory one.

"I know... I know," she groans, hiding her face in her hands for a second as a single tear rolls down her cheek. "It's so selfish from me, I'm so selfish but I love you so much, Kookie,"

He tenses at the nickname, hardening his glance which makes her smile a little. It's a sad, almost defeated smile. And he stays quiet, not letting the single nickname soften him as he demands answers. But Kiko hasn't said it to soften him, she has said it purely out of her heart because there's no way Jungkook will love her after this.

"Just please know I did it to protect you, I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to hurt you any further."

"Please, just--" Jungkook almost whimpers, pleading with her to finally start talking because he's growing impatient with each word that leaves her mouth. He's standing, gripping the edge of his kitchen stool as he leans against it, knowing he can't just sit down and stare at her like they're having a casual conversation.

Nevertheless, Kiko nods quickly and non-verbally lets him know that she's getting to it.

"Jungkook," It's weird to hear her say Jungkook. He's mostly been Kookie to her, Jungkook sounds distant right now. "When I broke up with you, I wasn't planning on getting back with you. I broke up with you, so you would never have to know the truth. I was better off knowing you hate me for breaking up with you over a stupid reason, than knowing the truth..."

He's heard this before – when they had a conversion when the whole cheating situation came out. That's when he told her he wouldn't be able to hate her. He was hurt, yes. He spent days and nights trying to figure out why she would break up with him all of a sudden. He was so desperate and sad that he had to ask you for help.

"But then when I saw you with Y/N... I was so hurt by all of it, knowing it's my fault because if I had never broken up with you, you'd still be with me but I had to do it. And then we talked and you confessed that you still love me. I've never stopped loving you Jungkook, so meeting up with you and talking with you about possibly getting back together seemed like the only right option for my broken heart,"

He has this sudden anger inside him, wanting to interrupt her and ask her; Are you the one with a broken heart? You broke up with me. You cheated on me. Of course, rationally it doesn't mean she isn't hurting too. But he's glad she's finally talking, noticing that it isn't easy for her as she brings her shaky fingers to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear every now and then, so he lets her talk while keeping his mouth shut.

"You gave me a second chance and I thought 'What the hell did I do to deserve this? This must be my chance' and I selfishly took it because yes, I'm selfish but I also love you and I was willing to be with you with guilt eating me alive, if it'd mean I get to be with you again."

"I don't want to hear this, you know what I want to hear from you. The name. The explanation." he tells her sternly, not hiding another prominent frown adoring his extremely tired face. That's another thing she gets to feel guilty about. He has barely slept because of her. His second chance is biting him back in the ass right now.

"You probably don't want to but you have to," she tells him simply, "I couldn't stay away even though I tried... but it was bound for us to see each other again, like at Jin's and Jia's wedding."

Yeah, that was unavoidable. Two of their friends were getting married, it'd be stupid not to come and attend because they knew one another would be there too.

"Okay, I get that but what does it have to do with everything?" He knows she's trying to go into depth and maybe if their relationship and his heart weren't at stake, he would be actually patient. This doesn't mean he hasn't been listening though. "As much as it's nice to know you've never stopped loving me, I want to know about the cheating."

All she can muster is to give him a sad smile in return, nodding her head. "Do you remember when we went camping?"

"What about it?" he grumbles in return, growing even more impatient.

On the other hand, Kiko is very patient and even though her misery and sadness is more than clear, she breathes out a small smile. It's barely visible but Jungkook notices it, thanks to his feisty and curious glare.

"We went for a walk to talk and you wanted to know the reason why I broke up with you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know all of that," he exclaims, frowning. "Where are you going with this? I need the name and explanation, Kiko. Who's the fucker? Who did you fuck behind my back?"

Kiko's eyes widen once again, understanding Jungkook's loud tone and annoyance. Straightening himself, he lets out a huff as he settles a glare back on her. She visibly shifts on her spot, biting the inside of her cheek before she finally looks up at him.

"No one." she whispers.

"What kind of fucked up game is this?!" he exclaims, smacking his hands against thighs frustratedly. He has to turn around, taking a deep breath before he faces her again while she sits behind the table, looking small and fragile.

He has every right to have this kind of reaction. He feels like he doesn't understand anything.

"I'm telling you the truth... no one."

Jungkook scoffs at that, "Were you even planning on telling me? Why did you come here? I told you I want an explanation but all I got so far is--"

"I'm telling you right now," she interrupts him, "No one. The answer is no one, Jungkook,"

He's speechless for a moment, staring at her completely dumbfounded with a half-opened mouth as his brows furrowed in a confused glare. He's too shocked and confused to say anything and Kiko doesn't beat around the bush this time, opening her mouth again.

"I've never cheated on you." she says softly, Jungkook's mind completely shutting down as he just stares at her.

He's not even breathing, quickly gripping the edge of stool as he stares at her with wide doe eyes. "You what..." he whispers, finally taking a short and shaky breath.

"When you wanted to know why I broke up with you, you told me what Hoseok told you. I panicked because he promised me he wouldn't interfere and say anything to you, it's not his fault though. I begged him not to tell you anything and he has been nothing but a great friend to me. But for a moment I thought you knew, but then you added that you don't know the reason and you suddenly questioned me about cheating."

"B-but you said..." he trails off, too shocked to even finish a sentence. Oh fuck, he swears he's about to faint. He's not sure whether he should be happy or not, but all he can feel is a pure shock that makes him almost unable to react properly.

"I panicked," She looks down in shame as she says it. "I went along with it because I know the truth would hurt you more."

"So you lied to me? All this time I thought you cheated on me, the hell, Y/N hates you for it and I was suffering ever since you told me that. You even realize what I've been going through?" he exclaims, not believing what he's hearing right now. Is there a chance she's lying right now? She said it herself, she didn't want to tell Jungkook any more details. She could be easily lying and tell him this to make him believe that she never cheated. Would she be able to do that? Fuck, he's not sure.

"I'm so sorry," she tells him, features curled into a sympathetic gaze which Jungkook responds to with a scoff. "No matter what I say will make up for what I caused you. That's why I broke up with you and wasn't planning on getting back together. I made a mistake, I should've stayed away from you."

"No," Jungkook shakes his head firmly, "You should've been honest with me from the beginning. That's what I deserve."

She doesn't deny it, he's completely right and she knows it. She's not just sad and hurt, but also ashamed that she's being called out by Jungkook at this very moment, fully realizing things are about to get worse. Jungkook is already looking like he's barely holding up.

"I know..." she whispers.

A few seconds of silence follows as Jungkook is completely overwhelmed by the news, feeling like a rock has fallen off his heart. All this time he thought he wasn't good enough, tried not to think about her cheating too much even though that was almost impossible. And for his own sake, he settled on not wanting to know any details. Would she keep lying if he insisted knowing how it happened and with who?

But as his mind starts to process more thoughts and different kinds of possible scenarios, he's remembered of what she has said too. This is no longer just about cheating that proved to be a product of a big and painful lie.

"So, what's the truth?"

Kiko has been waiting for him to ask that but once he does, she's not ready for it as she expected to be. Deep down, she knows she wouldn't ever be ready for this but it's something she has to do.

"You told me the truth will hurt me more, so I'm asking... What's the truth? What's the real reason why you broke up with me?"

You're confused when you're in the middle of sorting out your dirty laundry when your phone starts to ring. Maybe it's Jungkook, you think, wondering what he's up to. He was acting weird yesterday when he picked you up. As much as you wanted to make sure he's okay and maybe pry a little to know if something happened, you quickly stopped yourself because he obviously didn't want to talk about it. Maybe he had a fight with Kiko. After all, she's still a sensitive topic between you two and even though you mostly try to keep your opinions rational, it's been a very dangerous zone mentioning her.

He could tell you they had an argument and you wouldn't even have to hear what it was about before you'd have a bitter remark back. And Jungkook knows that, so he probably decided not to say anything. Plus, it doesn't have to be something serious.

However, being you and your usual nosy self, you didn't miss the opportunity to ask Jimin when he texted you later in the evening yesterday. Apparently, they both acted weird and when Jungkook left to pick you up, Kiko left soon after looking as if she was crying. Hoseok was acting weird too, almost as if he knew what happened between them but never commented on it for the rest of the night.

Your brows twist into a confusion when an unknown number is calling you, your annoyance rising. It's probably another mobile operator or someone from the insurance company trying to get you to take a mortgage. You're about to cancel the call but you've this weird feeling, something urging you to pick up. It's Sunday, do they even call on Sundays?

With a sigh, you pick up the phone and you're not going to lie, annoyed you make an appearance when you not so pleasantly answer the call with a; "Hello?"

"Y/N?"

You're confused, pulling away from the phone with a scrunched nose and confused glare as you stare at the unknown number. The voice seems familiar but you can't quite pinpoint who it is. "Yeah?"

"It's me Hoseok," he says, somehow sounding nervous for some reason. When did he even get your number? You've never given it to him, that's for sure. There never was a reason to give him your number anyway.

"You free to talk?"

"Uhhh, yeah?" you ask unsurely, caging your phone between your cheek and shoulder as you start continuing to rummage through your clothes, separating white from colorful clothing.

"Listen, I need you to come to Jungkook's place."

You freeze for a second, "And why's that?"

"He needs you." he says, sounding more confident and kind of panicky which makes a pang hit you in your chest.

"Did something happen?" You sound an alarm, dropping down your dirty white blouse back to the laundry basket that's on the floor as you straighten yourself, gripping the phone into your hand.

"I--just trust me please. You need to come to Jungkook's place like, right now. He needs you."

"You're scaring me, Hoseok." you tell him, but your legs still move you to your bedroom to get you out of your pajamas before you're already pulling out a random pair of sweatpants from your closet.

"I'm sorry, but I had to call you. Please, just come here as fast as you can." He sounds desperate and what you can't see is the way Hoseok frustratedly rubs his forehead as he stares at the apartment complex where Jungkook lives.

He's been in his car for quite some time and there hasn't been any sign from Kiko coming down. He knows their conversation will take its time, he's fully aware of it but he knows what Kiko is about to tell him won't end up good. For both of them, but right now, he's mainly concerned about Jungkook. What is about to be dropped down on him will ruin him.

"Alright, I'm coming."

Hoseok hears rustling and you rushing, the call between you two ending as he lets out a shaky breath. He doesn't feel any better but still, there's at least some kind of hope that you'll get here.

After all, he wasn't lying. Jungkook needs you, even if he doesn't know it yet.

Each passing second seems like an hour, at least to Jungkook who stares at his girlfriend with a stern and solid look. He's completely oblivious to the battle that's happening inside her head. She's going to lose him, she knows she will but she has to face the consequences. She also has to come with the terms that's what's going to happen. There's no way she can save their relationship after this.

What Jungkook is not oblivious about, is her constant shaking fingers that yes, breaks his heart but he has to control his worried and protective side. It's nothing new but he knows she's the one at fault in this and as much as his heart is big and generous, he just wants to know the truth after all.

"Listen," he sighs, widening his eyes when she flinches, not expecting him to say something. It's like she's scared of whatever he's about to say. It makes him even more nervous, but also curious why she's acting like this.

"Whatever you're about to tell me, I can see it's affecting you and you're worrying me. But I've to know, you understand that, right?"

She nods weakly, sniffling a little as she looks up and meets his big doe eyes that aren't as welcoming as they were when they met. He looks stern, features hard and sharp but even despite that, there's a hint of concern in his chocolate dark eyes.

But this time, Jungkook doesn't wait around and stares at her, giving her the time. So he presses again, impatience clear in his voice. "Tell me the reason, Kik."

And that's the hitting point when a loud sob leaves her mouth as she starts crying, covering her face with hands. Jungkook's features soften but he doesn't move from his spot, simply watching her body shake as she cries. She's trying to hold it in, pulling hands away from her face as she takes a deep yet shaky breath. And then she musters all the courage to look him in the eyes for god knows how many times.

"I... I was pregnant,"

The words are whispered but Jungkook has heard it nevertheless, his whole body freezing. What did she say? It feels like the blood has drained from his body and the whole world has stopped. He'd have believed it if it weren't for Kiko and her obvious body movement as she starts sobbing.

"You--what?" Jungkook manages to choke out, feeling his throat tightening and even the simplest thing like breathing makes him feel like he's about to choke.

Kiko's features twist painfully as she sucks in breath before opening her mouth. She has already said it. There's no way of going back. "I was pregnant,"

This time slightly louder, Jungkook's mouth falls open as the same shock fills up his whole face.

"With your baby."

And that makes him almost lose his balance, his hands quickly grasping the edge of the kitchen island. All he can hear is the word 'pregnant', not believing that this is happening. The simple sentence keeps repeating in his head but it's far from simple, he still can't fully process what she just said to him.

He feels ringing in his ears, shutting his eyes tightly when he can't forget another detail in the three word sentence. His voice comes out as desperate, the usual sweet yet deep voice is gone as both of them can hear that it's breaking. He is breaking.

And again, Kiko braces herself for yet another shocking and breaking news that would surely be the ending call. Full of shame, her own voice breaking when she says; "I got an abortion."

And that's the final straw for Jungkook because before shock fully settles inside him again, he can't take it and feels a harsh pang in his chest. That kind of pain that he has never felt before. Sadness, betrayal, anger... he can't possibly name all the emotions he's experiencing and feeling right now.

Jungkook doesn't think of himself as someone who's mentally completely strong, can get through anything in life and is undestroyable. Yet, he's not weak either. Oh, well, it's better to say that he never really had to experience something that would make him feel weak – at least not to the point he felt like going on his knees. But that's changed. Because if it weren't for the tight grip he has on a kitchen island, he'd surely be on his knees right now.

He lets his heart and emotions speak, the utter heartbreak and loss he's feeling makes his eyes sting with tears as they start coming down his cheeks in waves. No sound makes it past his lips though. Once he hears the stool screech against his marble floor in the kitchen, he grows tense and turns around.

Kiko stops in her tracks, her face mirroring Jungkook as she can't seem to stop crying, but this time they just stare at each other. Kiko stares in pain, Jungkook in a hundred other emotions that's enough to break every single heart that would see him.

"Why?"

It's a simple question, yet holds so much pain as Jungkook manages to ask, having to look away because he's not sure how much he can look at her without breaking apart.

Maybe something happened and she had to-- no, he's not going to think about possible reasons of why she did that just to make himself feel better, even if it's not possible.

"I--I wasn't ready," she tries to say, her voice shaky as she notices the way Jungkook's whole back tenses while his jaw is clenched so tightly that he's scared he's about to crack it.

Betrayal is the first thing that crosses his mind. There are so many questions that keep screaming inside his mind and it causes something to snap inside him. Grabbing his phone that's been sitting a few inches from his hands, he surprises both of them when he throws it against the wall. The device breaks apart as soon as it hits the wall, flying to three different directions.

Kiko jumps in surprise, a surprised yelp leaving her mouth and more tears welled up in her eyes when she glances back at Jungkook who keeps his head low, shaking his head.

"We weren't ready, Jungkook. It happened all of a sudden--"

"That happens when people have unprotected sex," he snaps, straightening himself as he turns around and glares at her. Despite the anger evident on his face, there's mostly sadness and disappointment that anyone would notice if they knew Jungkook for so long.

"I was on birth control, Jungkook," she reminds him softly and stupidly, knowing it's completely lame – at least Jungkook thinks that when he scoffs loudly.

They both knew the risks, obviously both of them weren't planning on having a baby so soon. He wanted to do it step by step. Maybe he's old fashioned but he wanted her to move in with him. He knew he wanted to propose in the near future as well. But if she got pregnant and even if it wasn't planned, he wouldn't be angry and he would act responsibly according to that.

They are a couple, were dating for over two years back then, but that's not what breaks him the most. Is the fact she did something like that without him knowing. She didn't tell him, she kept it a secret and it was too late to change her mind. It hurts him to think she didn't come up to him and talked to him about it.

"I can't believe you," he whispers, shutting his eyes tightly because a sudden mourn overcomes him. He's not sure how much he can take. "I deserved to know!" he suddenly yells, shaky hands going into his hair as he tugs on it harshly.

She stares in shame at him, knowing looks are crossing her features but there's nothing she can do. She can't change anything.

It all makes sense. How scared she looked when he asked her about the reason for their break-up. How guilty she looked and said she made a mistake, that she regrets it and will live with it for the rest of her life.

He suddenly imagines their baby, wondering if it was a girl or a boy. What the baby would look like. Would the baby look like him? Would the baby have his personality? Would the baby be a perfect mix of them both?

Being a father wasn't his nearest goal but surely was something he was looking forward to and if it happened at the most unexpected time, he wouldn't even think of getting rid of... her or him?

"You didn't tell me, I had every right to know about that! How dare you make such a decision without me even knowing you were--" He can't bring himself to even say it, pressing his lips tightly while she wipes the never ending tears off her cheeks.

"It's my body." She tries to argue, trying to find something to protect herself even though she realizes Jungkook is right. She had much more time to think about this than he has. Everything he feels towards her right now, she felt towards herself for months.

"And it was my baby too!" he yells, trashing his hands angrily. "I can't believe you'd have done something like this. You betrayed me. You--you didn't even tell me you were pregnant, we could've talked about it. Do you think I wouldn't be able to take care of you?"

She shakes her head quickly, desperation curling on her face as she tries to take a step closer to him but he takes a step back.

"Of course not," she cries out.

Now it's not the time to feel insecure but fuck, does it hurt knowing she didn't want to have his baby. After two years of dating, he thought she loved him. That she trusted him and she completely broke his trust, and him too.

"The doctor told me there's a chance the baby is not healthy. They couldn't run too many tests because I was still early in the pregnancy... it was a risk and--and I panicked," Jungkook scoffs, getting angrier and sadder with each word she says. It's like he can't stand her talking. "Jungkook, I've thought about it every second since the doctor told me that. We weren't ready for a baby, Jungkook, but if the doctor told me the baby is all healthy, things would be different. We would be able to work it out maybe, but--"

"Shut up," Jungkook cuts her off, taking a shaky breath as he shakes his head, "Just shut up," he says angrily this time.

"When-- when did you..."

He doesn't even have to finish a sentence for her to know what she's asking.

"After I broke up with you," she whispers, seeing another pained look on Jungkook's face.

So when she broke up with him, she was carrying their baby. The baby they made with love without them even knowing. Still, it was proof of their love – expected or not.

"I couldn't--I couldn't tell you what I was about to do. I knew it'd affect you and hurt you, I knew it'd destroy you--"

"So you came up with a lame excuse. Do you even know what I've been through? What have I done to get you back?" He bitterly chuckles at himself how stupid and naive he was. He was fighting for her this whole time without knowing she fucking betrayed him and hurt him in a complete different manner.

She looks away, not being able to look him in the eyes as she weakly nods, sobbing.

"I understand it's your body--but the baby--it was mine too. I had every right to know about it." He tries to sound angry but his voice cracks and he's ready to fall apart.

"I know..."

"You know?!" he yells, ignoring the way she flinches. "You know and yet you've--just--leave, fucking leave." he snaps desperately, hands rubbing his red and puffy face as his palms get wet from the tears that are running down his face.

He's not sure if he ever cried like this before. One thing he knows is that he has never felt this kind of heartbreak and pain before. This is something completely new to him and he has no idea how to cope with it. But what he does know is that he can't be in her presence. Not when he can barely look at her.

"Jungkook, please--" she cries out, running towards him as she grasps his hands desperately but she gets pushed away easily by him. It's the first time he has ever done something like that. She is shocked but then the shock is gone, fully understanding his reaction. It's breaking her.

"Get out," he snaps, pointing towards the door. She's crying, loudly and messily and still tries to hold onto Jungkook but he grasps her forearms and shakes her a little. "Get the fuck out!" he yells, pushing her away, still careful not to push her too hard. He really doesn't want to hurt her, he's not capable of hurting her like that but right now, the pain is ruining him..

"I don't ever wanna see you again."

She freezes, her mouth opening before a loud choked sob leaves her mouth. She's staring at him, stupidly hoping that he said it just because he's hurt but no. He's too upset right now and she fears that when she walks out of this apartment, she will never see him again. A tiny part of her is reconciled with that but the other rejects the most obvious. This is what she has been so scared of. Her biggest fear became a reality. She knows it's all her fault, she messed up badly and there's no turning back because one look at Jungkook, she already knows she lost him.

The usual sweet and loving boyfriend that has always loved her from day one, is now standing a few meters away from her completely broken, and it's all because of her.

And that moment she realizes that there's nothing she can do and the best thing she can do for him, is to leave as he requests. It's enough that he can't even look her in the eyes, avoiding to look even in the direction she's standing. He despises her, hates her probably right now. She wouldn't be surprised.

So she turns around, barely holding herself as she quickly rushes out of his front door after grabbing her coat and putting on her shoes, nearly colliding with someone that almost easily pushes her to the ground, if it weren't for the grasp on her shoulders that holds her balanced.

The first thing you notice is the way her whole body shakes, loud sobs leaving her mouth as she looks at her, probably not recognizing you at first from her blurry vision and all the tears that are the cause of that.

"What happened?" you ask shocked, letting go of her hands as she's crying so hard that even you're shocked and completely speechless. Yet, your heart beats fast at all the possible scenarios that happened.

You haven't talked to Hoseok, not even when you rushed out of your car and noticed his own parked in the distance. All you could think of were his words and that you're needed right now. But you've never imagined this – Kiko shaking and crying so much that you're actually worried about her. She looks like seconds from a panic attack and you panic too, cursing that you didn't call for Hoseok so he could come up with you.

But you couldn't have expected this to happen.

She's shaking her head, trying to rush past you but you block her, staring at her with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" she cries out, bumping into you as she rushes past you, not even waiting for the elevator as she takes the stairs.

You stand there frozen for a moment, but that's until you hear a loud crash coming from Jungkook's apartment, the front door of it still opened when Kiko barged out of there. You quickly rush inside, shutting the door with a loud thud that makes you cringe. You don't even take off your shoes, your heart dropping when you hear another crash that comes out from the kitchen.

The sight you see when you make it there, it's something you've never seen before and it makes your heart drop all over again. Jungkook is like in a trance, glass scattered all over the floor as he grabs a cup on the dining table before he smashes it against the wall. The dark liquid makes an awful stain on the wall and you gasp, rushing towards Jungkook when he's already taking another vase off his kitchen counter.

"Jungkook! Jungkook!" you yell at him, gripping his wrists tightly as he fights against your hold.

It's only when you get closer to him you realize that he's crying, his eyes red and puffy, causing your stomach to twist. His hair is falling into his face but you can still make out the pain and how much he's trying to turn, so you can't see him. But it's too late.

You almost yelp when he tries to pry your hands off him, him being completely stronger he can do that very easily, but not in his current state.

"What happened? Jungkook, what happened?" You're surprised when a loud sob comes out of his mouth, completely shattering your shocked state as the simple sound and sight of him makes you cry too as you ask him those questions. It already breaks your heart to see him like this and there's no time to be shocked about it.

He's crying, a choked up sobs causing his body to shake before he stumbles into the wall behind him and you're trying to hold him, as he slides down the wall defeatedly, with you going with him.

You're not waiting for anything, your body moving automatically as you hug him closer to yourself, his face pressed against your chest as he finally allows himself to cry even more.

All you can do is to be there for him so you hold him, not uttering a single word because you know nothing you could say would help. You hold him tightly, letting him know you're there for him even though you're not sure if he truly pays attention to you. Hoseok was right, he needs you.

What the hell happened here? Did he and Kiko fight to the point it went this wrong? None of this makes any sense, so you wonder... Did he fight out who she cheated with? Did he figure out who it was? And Hoseok knowing all about this – is he the one who she cheated with? Your thoughts are running wild, frequently distracted by Jungkook who has seemed to calm down in your hold as he has stopped resisting.

However, the constant crying never ends, not even when the loud sobs aren't just as loud anymore. The whole kitchen looks like a mess, glass shattered everywhere caused by Jungkook's anger or whatever that was and you kick a few shards away from the two of you, so you wouldn't cut on it accidentally. It's like a bomb has exploded here and it makes you even more concerned.

"You're okay..." you murmur, your voice shaky as your own cheeks are wet from the tears. Pecking the top of his head you hear him sob again as this time, he holds your arms and squeezes it tightly.

He's far from okay actually, anyone could tell that.

Just when it seems as if he calmed down, occasional sniffles coming out of him while his body seems to not be shaking as much, you don't expect him to say anything. You've been sitting there for quite some time, you holding him while he cries it out whatever that has happened between him and Kiko.

"She... she was pregnant," You barely understand what he's saying, but somehow you catch onto it and your breath hitches. "She never cheated," he speaks out, voice completely broken and raspy from all the crying. He doesn't even sound like Jungkook and that scares you. You're seriously worried about him but you don't dare to move to look at his face.

You're glad he's able to talk, that he's talking to you.

And you don't ask, no matter how much your heart drops at his words, no matter how shocked you're. You let him tell you at his own pace, even though your mind is going crazy. Kiko and pregnant? Was pregnant? The worst scenarios are about to come up in your head but you shake them off, heart painfully crying for Jungkook instead.

"She got rid of our baby." And that's when he loses it all over again, crying out loud as he says that extremely painful truth that makes you gasp, your own sobs leaving your mouth when Jungkook breaks all over again.

And you're breaking with him, not being able to imagine what kind of pain he's going through. You're completely clueless of what to do and how to ease his pain, knowing it's not possible at the moment and if ever.

So, just like you've been doing ever since you rushed to his place, you hold him even tighter, your lips giving a peck on the top of his head. Even the mess of scattered glass on the floor doesn't compare to the damage Jungkook's heart is experiencing.

#bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #personasintro

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