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#which is jars' fault
has it hit yuuta yet that if megumi is gojo’s kid then he is kind of megumi’s extremely distant uncle? Bet he’d reach for that to explain away his extremely normal protective attachment
#seaglassgardens
Not really, because he doesn’t consciously think of himself as gojo’s relative. Like, he’s aware that he is gojos super distant relative but the connection is so attenuated that he’s not really thinking of gojo as an actual part of his family, so it hasn’t hit him. But he would take literally any explanation to justify his extremely normal protective attachment to Megumi at this point
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gotyouanyway · 1 month
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god i’m in no shape to go to work at all but i can’t afford not to and it’s too late to call in anyway without fucking everyone over badly on a holiday 😥
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No offense but nothing has been more heartbreaking than hearing Jacob Anderson describe Louis as “He’s human. The most human vampire of them all.” and then immediately put his head in his hand and say “Rolin’s gonna be so mad at me, he’s a vampire, not a human.” 
like asfdgfacghvdfcshg someone PROTECT THIS MAN from that evil fucking showrunner
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Of all the things I have dropped and smashed, a jar of marmite had gotta be in the top 5 of worst to clean up.
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aq2003 · 7 months
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Have you seen anything about the 11th doctor yet? I mean clips and such if not actual eps
Thoughts?
i know virtually nothing about this guy besides the fact he's played by the guy from morbius and that he is so audhd coded it's unreal and that he met ten one time (?????) . i think he is funny however i have put myself in doctor who timeout until november so i will probably just be nine and ten (and fourteenposting) until then
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kirnet · 2 years
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This is gonna be rambley but is it just me or are sw action scenes just laughably bad now? I haven’t seen the latest owk ep so I can’t comment but the chase scenes are just… meh. The fight with Vader… meh. The LEADUP to the Vader fight was fantastic and tense but the actual choreography was. Whack. (Which makes sense from obi wans pov he should be bad at it, but Vader should be chopping limbs off)
And it’s not just that but mando season 2 and bobf and the sequel trilogy. Like in my opinion the action scenes in the prequels were really good! Even the action scenes in the og trilogy, while obviously not as polished as what we can do now, hold a lot of emotional weight and entertainment value. But so much of the action in these new series that should be blowing us out of the water with the technology that they have is just. Meh.
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pagesofkenna · 2 years
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I need a song to go on my Adaka playlist between Los Campesino's A Slow Slow Death (the 'I'm in love with you but I've got generational trauma and I think you're too good for me' song) and Grandson's Bury Me Face Down (the 'I'm not expecting to live but I'm gonna go down fighting' song), that will fit the roll of the 'I'm facing my problems by running away but on the plus side this means you wont have to deal with me anymore' song
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Beg You to Love Me
"I'm surprised you even remembered, Harrington," Eddie shrugs, hoping he comes off as aloof as he wants to, instead of shaky and unsure like he feels. He was sitting atop the picnic table, arms behind him trying to look as unaffected by Steve's presence as he can, but he's been thrown for a loop ever since Steve emerged from the woods instead of Robin Buckley, like he was expecting.
"Of course, I remember. I- I've never forgotten," Steve whispers, head down and fists clenched at his sides. He looks more like a child being wrongfully scolded than a man defending himself.
The words pull a scoff from Eddie, though. Never forgotten? What the fuck ever. "Right. Something to hold over me, then, if I'd stepped too far out of line? Mutually assured destruction?"
Steve's head snaps up and he looks horrified, which Eddie will admit to almost believing. Steve doesn't seem like the type to join the drama club but his acting's pretty fucking good. "What? No! I would have never- I would never have said anything about us to anyone."
"Right. Sure. Of course. Your own reputation to think about there."
Something like hurt flashes across Steve's face before it frosts over. This is the face he's used to see on Steve. Cold and distant. "I- whatever, man. I don't even know why I thought..." but Steve doesn't finish his sentence. He just shakes his head and turns his back on Eddie, heading back the way he came.
He doesn't know why that sparks a rage from deep within him. "Yeah, that's right. Tuck tail and runaway again!"
"I ran away?" Steve shouts back, turning sharply on his heel to glare at Eddie. "You think that I ran away?"
Eddie just spreads his hands to the empty clearing as if to say 'look at all this room around me you've never occupied'. "You weren't here, were you?"
"Because you told me to not be!" Steve stomps back to Eddie but stops a couple yards away.
"Like fuck I did," Eddie argues back, because he didn't tell Steve to go away. He'd told him-
"'If this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door.' That's what you told me," Steve quotes, "I thought it was pretty fucking clear what you wanted."
"Yeah, I fucking thought it was clear what I wanted," Eddie snarls, lunging from the picnic table, closing those last few feet to get into Steve's face. "Yet here we are!"
"Don't act like this is my fucking fault. Like you weren't the one who forced it to be my fault. My decision-"
"Yeah, it had to be your damn decision! You were dragging it out-"
"-because you were too much of a coward to do it your-fucking-self-"
"-acting like you were. Acting too good to actually slum it with the trailer trash-"
"-so of course I made the choice that was best for me. Because I deserved more-"
"-like what I had to offer you would never be good enough for the goddman King-"
"-than just being your hookup when I wanted to be-"
"-like I wasn't good enough to be your friend, much less-"
"-your fucking boyfriend!"
"-your fucking boyfriend!"
The contrast of this sudden silence that falls following their screaming match that ends with identical sentiments is jarring. Eddie feels wrong-footed and lost. Confusion and hurt mixing in him that he can see reflected on Steve's face.
"What?" Steve is the first to break the silence, drawing into himself. Arms crossing to hold himself at the elbows as he takes several steps back, as if to be able to see all of Eddie will clear the confusion he's feeling.
Eddie just stares back, slack jawed for a moment. That's. What. No, wait. Really, what? "What what?"
"You- you said 'if this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door'. How was I- I thought you- you were breaking up with me!" Steve cries, "you. You said that to make me pick, because you knew I wanted more and you didn't. That's- you were breaking up with me!"
Eddie's in just as much disbelief. "No, you broke up with me! I said if this isn't good enough but, like, I meant if I wasn't good enough. And you left! You walked out because I wasn't good enough to be with you!"
Steve looks stricken and he claws harder at himself, sort of folds into himself like he's going to be sick. "No. No no no, that's- then that means I- it's all been my fault. No no no no."
Eddie stares wide-eyed and frozen as Steve talks to himself. Eddie kind of feels nauseous. There's no way that this is possible. That these last two and a half years of heartbreak have been because of miscommunication. That they both thought the other was breaking up with them and neither actually wanted to.
"Why didn't you- Why didn't you say something?" Eddie asks.
Steve laughs at that, sounding a bit hysteric. "Me!? Why didn't you! I wasn't- I wasn't going to beg you to love me like I had with my parents. You were the one who told me I shouldn't have to do that!"
Yeah. He had. When Steve had broken down and cried on his bed, in his arms, wondering what it was he had done to lose his parents' love. Eddie told him it wasn't his fault, never would be, and that he would never need to beg for love from someone who does love him. It was the same advice Wayne had given him when he'd taken Eddie in.
"I already thought you were wanting to break up. You were being so distant, I thought..."
Steve sucks in a deep breath and nods, "Yeah. Yeah I was. I was scared of scaring you away. Of being too much. Because I- what I felt for you was a lot. I was afraid I'd chase you away if I continued to be so clingy. I pulled back, to reign it in but. Fuck. Fuck!"
Eddie drops to a squat. His legs feel like jelly and he can't keep standing. He squats and looks down so his hair becomes a curtain separating him from the reality of the situation, if only for a moment. Fuck is right.
He's spent his junior and first senior year being pissed at Steve. Hurt by him and what he thought happened. And it's- if Steve's being honest, it's all been for nothing. If they both wanted a deeper relationship, they could have had it. They might still be boyfriends if Eddie hadn't been so wrapped up in his Munson Doctrine. He'd been convincing himself Steve was embarrassed of him, and was working on breaking off their- whatever they were. But he hadn't been.
He's thought such terrible things about Steve over the years. God, what has Steve thought of him over the years? No. He doesn't want to know, actually. That's not what he cares about right now.
He lifts his head to see that Steve's plopped himself onto the ground, sitting cross legged, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.
"Steve. Steve!" He calls Steve's name out until he looks up, looks at him, "why'd you come out here?"
He laughs again, slightly less hysterically, and he's shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to say. "I. Fuck, I was coming out here to beg you to love me."
"No you fucking weren't!" his tone is filled with disbelief.
"I was," Steve repeats, sounding amused and heartbroken at the same time. "I really, really was. Graduation's coming and I know you want to get out of Hawkins the second that happens and I'm. I was running out of time trying to get you to notice me again, so I was going to beg."
Notice him again? As if Steve doesn't haunt his every waking thought. As if he doesn't dream of Steve every night while his eyes seek him across the halls and in their few shared classes like he's the goddamn night sky and Eddie is a sailor lost at sea needing the north star to guide him home. Eddie's never not noticed him, and he thinks he has to come out here and beg? "When someone loves you, you don't have to beg."
"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs, defeated, which lets Eddie know that Steve does not, in fact, know. He looks away from Eddie, down to his lap.
Fuck, it's like every fantasy Eddie's had of them making up and then making out has been handed to him on a silver platter and he's blowing it. His words are too vague, too easily misinterpreted. Again. He falls forward on to his knees, hands catching him so he's on all fours like an animal. "Steve. I mean it. You don't have to beg."
"I get it, Eddie," Steve huffs, not looking at him. Not actually understanding.
Eddie starts to crawl the distance between them. Steve looks up then, probably to see what the fuck Eddie was doing with the shuffling sounds and the chain on his belt clacking. Eddie watches Steve's eyes go wide, mouth dropping open to a small 'o'. "See, the thing is, Steve," Eddie says, pulling himself up to be just on his knees to shuffle the last few inches closer. Steve leans back to keep his eyes on Eddie's face, which opens his lap up. "You said you know, but I don't think you do." Eddie brings his hands to rest on Steve's shoulders and Steve lets him. "You don't have to beg." He uses his hold on Steve's shoulders to balance himself as he swings a leg wide, to straddle Steve, then shifts his weight to repeat the process with his other leg before settling himself into Steve's lap. Steve's hands land on his hips and Eddie isn't sure if it's intentional or a reaction to Eddie plopping himself in his laps but he's going to believe it's the first one. "You've never had to beg with me."
Steve sucks in a sharp breath and then he collapses into Eddie. Steve's hands on his hips slide up and pull him into a hug, as close to Steve's body as he can get, while Steve shoves his head under Eddie's chin, into the junction of his neck and shoulder and breaths him in like it's the last breath Steve will ever take. "We're so stupid."
"Yeah," Eddie agrees, as he lifts one hand to hold the back of Steve's head while the other drops to rub soothingly at his back. "Yeah, we are."
They sit in the dirt, the closest they've been since that summer between '81 and '82. They should probably talk about. They're going to have to, if they want this to work. Full sentences with no hidden meanings, even though the thought of that kind of vulnerability makes Eddie skittish. It's going to be difficult, but it'll be worth it. Steve has always been worth it.
Eddie wants to say 'I love you', just to get it out, in the open, and not just implied, but there's a different first step to take. One that's actually a little easier. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Me too," Steve whispers, "I'm sorry. I should have-"
"Shut up," Eddie cuts him off, voice quiet and soft as he can be. "This is, and I cannot stress it enough, a we situation."
The huff of laughter on his skin from Steve feels like the start of something. A new beginning, a start over. A re-do.
A goddamn miracle.
Later, they'll drag themselves apart and up. Make it to the back of Eddie's van in the school parking lot to talk. Going to either's house feel too much, too soon. Their big fight happened at Eddie's home, and Steve's house isn't warm enough for the kind of comfort they want to share.
They'll have a talk. Filled with long pauses, stumbling over words and fears and insecurities because this is the hard part of a relationship. Getting it all out in the open so they can learn if they'll even work. The fear that they aren't going to be compatible anymore looms but doesn't deter. They both want a second chance, to give it a real shot, by the end of that first talk. But taking it slow.
They'll discuss what went wrong the first time (diving in without talking about anything certainly played a big part) and how to avoid that.
But that's later. Right now, Eddie just holds Steve, and Steve holds him back, and it certainly feels like the beginning of something good.
-
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems
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fiendfluid · 2 years
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is it just bc the hells are way less secretive then the nein or is the personal quest stuff just zooming by really fast/early
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golden-cherry · 3 months
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deal - cl16 (22/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: This friendship is off to a great start. Or something like that.
Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff because you all deserve it, tiny but of angst (because it wouldn't be my work if there wasn't angst in it), google translated French
Word Count: 2.9k
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A/N: tadaaaaaa. did my best and I hopefully have time to update this story weekly. feedback is appreciated!
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The other side of the bed is empty when you open your eyes. 
Sunlight beams through the window and warms your face as you stretch your arms and lie back. A loud yawn escapes your mouth, but you are so well rested and relaxed that you don't care who can hear you. 
Charles is probably hanging around the apartment somewhere and you can't help but smile at the thought of him. 
You didn't expect you two to talk so soon, but now that the weight is off your shoulders and the secrets - both your unemployment and the Formula One thing - are out in the open, you feel a lot better. You slept well, snuggled up to Charles with his arm wrapped tightly around your middle. His warmth gave you security and comfort and although the road to this moment has been quite bumpy and rocky, you're glad you've finally arrived at this point. 
Pure friendship. 
It's the right thing to do, you tell yourself. This friendship is more important than anything else in this world. I'll be damned if I'm going to destroy the only good thing I have.
You lock your feelings deep inside you, bury them under many and thick layers of friendly affection so that no daylight can reach them. What remains inside you is silence, a pleasant, comforting silence. 
You don't have to worry about what his pet names mean to you. You don't have to worry about eventualities that will certainly not become reality anyway. You can be there for Charles, as a friend - as someone who is there for him. 
You swing your legs over the edge of the bed and stand up. There are some fresh clothes for you on a small chest of drawers - a turquoise shirt and short gray Puma sports shorts - which you quickly slip into. As you open the door to your room, the smell of batter fills your nose. 
"Bonjour," Charles smiles at you as you enter the spacious, modern kitchen and sit down opposite him at the kitchen counter. Unlike last night, this time he's wearing a shirt and gray sweatpants, which hang low on his hips but still let you feel a little sigh of relief. With spatula in hand, he scrapes the pancake out of the pan to put it on a plate and slide it over to you. "How did you sleep?"
"Very well," you answer him and reach for the Nutella that is already in front of you. "And you?"
"Likewise." He turns off the stove and sits down next to you with another plate of pancakes. His knee nudges yours, but neither of you pulls your leg away. "The recipe is from my teammate. He says they're the best pancakes ever and I thought we could try them together."
As you spread the Nutella evenly on your pancake, you hand him the jar. His fingertips gently brush your hand. "So if they don't taste good, it's not your fault?" you grin and use your knife and fork to cut off a small piece before popping it into your mouth. 
Charles watches your every move. "That's right. So? Did he lie?"
You shake your head. The pancake in your mouth is warm and soft and fluffy, vanilla is definitely one of the ingredients and as you swallow the piece, a little of the delicious taste remains. "It's really delicious," you reply and spear another piece with your fork. "But I think it's also down to how the pancakes are made. The batter can be as good as it wants to be, but if it's made incorrectly - nope. Then it can't be saved."
Your Monegasque friend pours a little orange juice into the empty glass in front of you. "Was that a compliment to the chef?" A grin spreads across his face and he waggles his eyebrows. 
You playfully punch him in the shoulder with your fist. He pretends to almost fall off his chair. "My statement is to be considered purely objective."
Something flashes in Charles' green eyes, but before you can pinpoint it, he turns his gaze back to the breakfast. "I've heard you say that before," he mumbles before taking a bite. "But it really tastes great. I'll have to tell him when I see him again soon."
"What does your nutritionist say about you smearing so much Nutella on your pancake?" When he puts his index finger to his mouth, you have to smile. "Do you have to go back? To Italy?" The thought of Charles leaving you alone here in this big apartment makes you swallow hard. You only really talked to each other a few hours ago, does he really have to -
"No," he unintentionally interrupts your train of thought. "I don't think they want to see me there again so soon after I left yesterday. But that's just the way it is." He shrugs his shoulders. "More time for us." Before you can ponder the meaning of that sentence, he continues. "I know we've already talked this morning about what to do next, but I think we should discuss it again."
You raise an eyebrow in confusion. "What do you mean?"
The brunette purses his lips. "You said that you still want to be friends with me despite my job - and I think that's great - but you should really be sure."
"I am sure," you reply without hesitation.
"But you have to know what all this would mean for you if you take this," he points first to you and then to himself, "on. Dealing with all this is more difficult than you can imagine."
"All right," you reply, shoving the last piece of pancake into your mouth before washing it down with orange juice. "Go on then, Mr. Charles Leclerc."
He looks at you with a look that can't mean anything other than "Really?" before clearing his throat. "I've been in the public eye since I was little. It used to be karting, now it's Formula One. I'm used to people recognizing me, approaching me on the street and wanting to take photos. It's normal everyday life for me."
"Sounds a bit conceited," you joke, but Charles' expression suggests he's not in the mood for fun. "Okay. Je suis désolé."
"As soon as I leave the house, people talk about it. What I'm doing. Where I'm going. Who I'm spending time with. And my friends are set on the fact that when we're out and about, we can never be fully undisturbed." He chews on his lower lip for a moment. "With my female friends, things are a little more complicated."
"Meaning?"
He takes a deep breath. "As a Formula One driver, it's quite difficult to maintain friendships with the opposite sex. As soon as you do something together without anyone else around, it's portrayed as a date in the press or on social media. According to TikTok, I've had four new girlfriends since Annika and I split up. But nobody cares that they are the wives and girlfriends of my best friends. People see what they want to see. Even if it doesn't reflect the truth at all."
Without hesitation, you reach for his hand and stroke the back of it with your thumb. His skin is soft. "I'm terribly sorry about that. It must be awful."
Charles turns his hand a little so you can intertwine your fingers. "It's nothing new for me. It's more difficult for my friends. They are insulted, called names, judged. And all because they want to spend time with me, because that's what friends do. It's not fair. Not for anyone."
Now you understand why it's so important to Charles that you know this. His friendship has a price. And from what he tells you, it's not exactly cheap.
"The pressure on you would be huge. People will have opinions about you that you won't like. And no matter what you do, no matter how good you are - you won't be able to change them. And at some point, you'll be approached on the street without me, just because we're friends. The first time Joris was asked for a photo, he was completely taken aback."
You can see how much this is taking its toll on him and you don't even want to know how many friendships his name has already cost him. It's understandable that not everyone wants to take this risk, this life.
You squeeze his hand twice to attract his attention. When he looks at you, you smile. "Doesn't sound so bad," you try to cheer him up. The attempt fails miserably.
"I don't think you understand me." He shakes his head slightly and removes his hand from yours. "That's no small sacrifice. And there's no turning back once you do. You'll have no privacy once you leave this apartment. You'll be the talk of the town. About what you do, what you say and what clothes you wear. And all because we're friends."
You raise an eyebrow. "And what's in it for me then?"
He lowers his eyes again. His voice is quiet. "Just - me."
Your heart breaks for him. 
How can he not know how wonderful he is? Ever since you've known each other, Charles has always given you the chance to get out of things. He's let you have the bed, driven your rickety Renault to protect you from the public, pushed you away - disgustingly, but still. And all so that you could have a choice. 
You'd like to take him in your arms and hug him tightly, hoping you can patch up his shattered parts. And so you do. You get up from the chair and wrap your arms around him so tightly that he gasps in surprise. He slides off his chair into a firm stance so that your hands slide a little lower down his back. A moment later, when you feel one of his hands on your spine and the other in your hair, you press your cheek against his hard chest.
"I wish you could see yourself the way I do," you murmur against the soft fabric of his shirt, whereupon he presses you a little closer to him. 
"How do you see me?" he whispers against the top of your head. You feel his lips on your scalp. "Like a crazy, jealous guy who shows up at your place in the middle of the night and starts a fight with your ex?"
"You're an idiot." You lift your face from his chest and tilt your head back so you can look at him. He looks down at you. "You're such a wonderful person, Charles. And I would be honored if you wanted me as a friend."
"Are you really sure?" His warm breath brushes over your face. "There's so much you -"
"I'm sure," you interrupt him. 
"There's a series on Netflix you can watch so you can get a better understanding of -"
"I'm sure."
"Y/N, please -"
"Don't you want to be my friend?" You want to take a step backwards so you can really look at him, but he's so comfortably warm and his gaze is so heartbreaking that you don't want to let him go under any circumstances. 
"I want nothing more than that. Really." The hand that was in your hair a moment ago rests against your cheek and your thumb strokes it gently. "But there's so much you have to give up. And just for me."
You nestle your face against his warm skin. "You're all I have. And that's all I need."
His gaze softens and he gently kisses your forehead before holding you close one last time and then letting go. "The Netflix series isn't that good anyway. It doesn't reflect what really happens on race weekends." He sits back down at the counter and grabs another pancake. 
You join him. "I'm not surprised. Netflix will do anything to make money and twisting reality to make it more marketable is nothing new." You copy him with the pancake.
"Exactly. And if you want to know anything, you can ask me. Your friend - the Formula One driver," he grins, shoving a bite between his two jaws. 
"You said yesterday that this season has been a throwaway. What do you mean?" you ask him, emptying the bottle of orange juice into your glasses. 
Charles shrugs his shoulders. "The car and the strategies didn't work as they should have. The Scuderia made more cock-ups than you can stand."
You have to suppress a grin. "Then wouldn't it be smarter to call it the Screwderia?"
His gaze is emotionless as you look at him. "That's the worst joke I've ever heard." He smirks. "But you're right about that."
It's obvious that your friend feels a lot more comfortable now that he's told you the truth. The passion with which he talks about the sport is infectious, and you listen to him as attentively as you can. There's a sparkle in his eyes, his smile almost reaches your ears as he talks about his victories and podiums. 
How could you not want to be friends with him?
When you're done with breakfast, Charles sends you to explore the apartment while he does the dishes. After brushing your teeth and getting a bit more ready - you keep your clothes on, they're comfortable and Charles' after all - you wander through the rooms. 
The living room is kept simple, with white furniture and a comfortable-looking couch where you can watch the second part of Cars. Next to it on a shelf are several trophies and even helmets, which you take a quick look at.
There's even a white piano. A red rose arrangement with the word Love is placed on it. As you run your fingers over the wood of the instrument, you hear Charles enter the room. 
"The roses are from Annika. They're not real, so they can stay longer." He steps from one foot to the other. 
"Why haven't you thrown them away yet?" you ask him as you turn to face him. 
He shrugs his shoulders. "I haven't gotten around to it yet. And Annika was still living here until yesterday. So..."
You nod weakly and change the subject. "Have you been practicing here?"
"Yes. Unfortunately, I don't have much time to play because of Formula One. It was good to play in the bookshop. Even if it was completely improvised."
You remember every single note. The passion he poured into the keys to create an incredibly beautiful piece of music. The passion he felt. How beautiful he looked in the warm light. "It was beautiful. It really was."
"It's your song." He smiles lovingly. "It's as beautiful as you are."
Like magnets, you move towards each other. As he holds out his hand, you place yours in it so that he can gently turn you in a circle before pulling you close. Your hands rest on your chest and you feel his strong heartbeat under your fingertips as you smooth down his shirt. His hands are on your lower back, pressing you against him so that you arch towards him. 
"Charles."
"Mm-hmm." His gaze flickers back and forth between your eyes and your lips, making your heart beat faster. 
You hypocrite, you hear your conscience say as your one hand slides to the nape of his neck and plays with the fine hair there. Charles closes his eyes and something you can only categorize as a moan escapes his throat. 
"Please don't stop," he whispers and leans his forehead against yours. The tips of your noses nudge against each other. 
"With what?" you ask softly, even though you know exactly what he means. 
"Touching me." His voice sounds almost like a deep groan. "Tu me fais tellement de bien.“ you feel so good.
You would never stop. It seems like an invisible boundary was torn down last night and you haven't been able to stop touching each other since. His knee against yours at breakfast. Your embrace. Your half-naked bodies pressed together a few hours ago when you were talking. 
Even if you wanted to, you couldn't stop touching him. 
Hypocrite, repeats the annoying voice in your head. 
Without thinking about it, you arch towards him another inch and Charles draws in a sharp breath. 
"Charles?" A woman's voice sounds from the hallway and the Monegasque opens his eyes. „Chéri, tu es à la maison?“ darling, are you home?
Your eyes search his as he suddenly breaks away from you and takes a step back. Panic is practically written all over his face. 
"Who's that?" you ask silently, but get no answer.
The footsteps from the hallway come closer and when you turn around, a woman is standing in front of you, looking first at you and then at Charles before her gaze lingers on you. "'Qui avons-nous là?“ who do we have here? she asks, walking towards you before grabbing your hands and giving you a kiss on the left cheek, then the right. 
"Maman, que fais-tu ici?" mom, what are you doing here? Charles asks hesitantly, taking a step towards you both. 
Maman?
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Don't Blame Me
Tangerine x fem!reader
Summary: You've been the Twins' handler for years now, and when Tangerine blows up at you one evening after a mission, he apologizes in an unconventional way.
Genre: SMUT (nsfm)
Warnings: implied fuck boy!Tangerine, bitchy!Tangerine in the beginning, reader is named Peach, unprotected sex, passionate sex, not much foreplay (they're desperate lmao), swearing, insecurities, praise kink, degradation, emotional, Tangerine is all over the place and bad with his feelings!
I'm so sorry I feel like this took forever <3 enjoy! @j23r23
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"He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not," you smile, your nails drumming on the desk as you pick at the petals of the roses in the jar near your computer. "Ah ha, he loves me. Knew you were so full of shit," you hum happily. 
"Piss off," Tangerine loudly grunts in your ear and you tilt your head, scrunching your nose. You've told him not to yell like that—you've warned him that the earpiece is sensitive and you'll lose your hearing if he continues like this—but he never listens.
Being the Twins handler for almost four years now you've learned how to deal with their quirks.
Lemon, as ruthless as he is, is too trusting. He's also loyal to a fault and he'd die for Tangerine in seconds; something you've had to account for in your missions so it doesn't happen. 
Tangerine on the other hand? Recklessness under the guise of control. He'd burn the entire world down for Lemon without hesitation, his temper as bright as the flames of a wildfire.
Unexplainably however, you were drawn to him the most.
While he pushes your buttons like no one else, you also tend to push him in ways that leave him wanting—no needing—more.
"Tan," you warn again, "don't talk so loudly, they'll hear you!"
"Stop your yapping in my ear then, luv," Tangerine snaps, his comment snarky and you hear a loud humph as it sounds like someone crashes into something.
Tangerine sounds out of breath and you use your mouse to click on the map on your computer. You zoom in and ask, "Where's Lem? You aren't supposed to meet any security for a while—"
"He's busy, darlin'. And your little shortcut turned out to be not so short after all," Tangerine says and you hear a loud grunt. It's obvious he's in the middle of a fight.
Your blood runs cold as you chew on your lip. Your hands quickly dance over the keyboard as you try and find another way for them—an easier way—
"Hey, Peach, will ya stop breathing so damn loudly, it's distracting me," Tangerine's voice interrupts your worry and you hold your breath when you hear a loud thwap and then a grunt—immediately accompanied by cursing and more hoarse shouts. 
"Tangerine!" his name spills from your lips as you hear louder blows. "Tan?" you whisper when the line disconnects and a low buzz is heard in your ear. You fumble to discard the earpiece onto the desk in front of you and then you focus on finding Lemon. 
If anyone can help Tangerine, it's Lemon.
With a frown, you activate the tracker you'd promised not to slip into Lemon's jacket, and a little red light blinks on your computer screen. He's not far from where Tangerine is. You lean over and connect to the microphone on your computer.
"Lemon?!" 
You hear a crack and then the shuffling of clothes against the microphone in the tracker. "Peach?" Lemon grunts, "Ya cheeky lil' bird, I told ya not to track me," he lets out a breathy laugh, and another smack is heard, "Fuck me, these fuckers just don't die easily!" 
"Lem? Where's Tan?" you ask, seeing that the tracker Tangerine wears voluntarily on his suit hasn't moved in a while. "Is he okay? I think the earpiece broke."
Something must have happened to his tracker too if it's malfunctioning.
"Yeah, which is why I say I should wear it—but he's bossy and he's your favorite," Lemon says. 
"I don't have favorites!" you insist, your cheeks burning.
"Sure, whatever," Lemon chuckles and then adds, "Ah, speaking of the devil—I can see 'im now. Damn, he's beat up ain't he. Bullocks. Y'know your little plan was shit, Peach, security swarmed us almost immediately!"  
You pinch your eyes and guilt settles in your stomach. "I know, I know, I'm sorry,"
You hear Tangerine's voice distantly as he grumbles, "Fuckin' arsehole broke my earpiece when he punched me—I lost contact with Peach," he complains and you hear shuffling. Your stomach fills with unwanted butterflies at the sound of his voice and how your codename rolls off his tongue. 
"She can hear ya," Lemon says, his smirk evident in his tone, "Say hello, Peach."
"She tracked ya?" 
"Yeah, and bugged me too apparently."
 "What the fuck, my tracker doesn't do that," Tangerine says and you hear an infliction in his voice. 
"Yeah, cauz you always have the earpiece."
"Because she likes me better,"
"That's what I said!!" 
"Oi, you wankers, I can still hear you," you interrupt, "Will you just come back to the van now? The mission's a bust," you finish. While they continue to bicker for a moment, Lemon finally shuts down the tracker—by breaking it you assume—idiot—and it isn't until the van door slams open that you hear and see them again. 
"Oi, now you're takin' the piss," Tangerine exclaims, glaring at his brother as he runs a hand through his mussed hair. He enters the van and you stand. Your eyes scan over his appearance; his suit is torn and bloodied and he has a gaping cut on his forehead. His ear is also bleeding from when you assume the broken earpiece had shattered. 
"Christ," you whisper and walk over to him. Lemon smirks as he walks by the both of you and collapses onto the second chair near your desk. He's less beat up than Tangerine—who'd taken on more men you assume—but you remind yourself to check on him later anyway.
Tangerine senses you come up to him and he tenses when you hold his cheeks in your hands and check his wounds. "Tan, this looks bad," you say. 
"Peach, I'm fine," he grumbles and turns his head away. He sounds grumpier than usual.
"Look, I'm sorry—I'm sorry I messed up, I—"
Suddenly, Tangerine explodes. His hand comes up around his ears as he scrunches up his nose. "Will ya just stop talkin' for one fuckin' second?!" he yells and even Lemon, who had been a silent bystander to the conversation, looks up from where he's bandaging his hand. 
Your eyes widen and you blink at Tangerine. "W-what?"
He presses his index on his temple and narrows his eyes at you. "I have a fuckin' headache 'cause of you and you talkin' my fuckin' ear off all the damn time! And now I can barely hear because it's ringing so fuckin' hard!" he points to the blood inside his ear. 
You flinch at his tone and try to control the tears threatening to spill as he harshly berates you. 
"Right," is all you say, "sorry," your voice sounds small and you push by him and out to the front of the van to start the engine. 
* * * 
When you arrive outside their house—well, your house too since you've been living with them for the past three months—you don't talk to Tangerine. You don't even look at him.
Instead, without a word, you walk up to your room, tears still brimming, and slam the door behind you. 
Your stomach hurts and your nails dig into your palms as you run a shower. You desperately want to wash away any memory of what happened tonight. 
It isn't uncommon for you and Tangerine to fight—but he's never shouted like that and never in response to your worry.
Once you finish with your shower and walk out of the bathroom, just a towel wrapped around your body, you jump when you see Tangerine standing in the middle of your room.
He'd clearly freshened up too but, unlike yours, his hair is freshly dried. You aren't surprised—you know he hates sleeping with it when it's wet. 
He's wearing a casual pair of beige slacks and a white T-shirt. The fabric strains against the muscles in his arms as he crosses them across his chest and you look up, feeling a burn in your cheeks.
Tangerine's ear has been bandaged and his cuts and bruises look kindly tended to. Lemon, you assume, he's always been soft on his brother even when he's acting like a jerk. 
Tangerine is staring at you intensely, his blue eyes shining a shade darker than usual. 
"Shit, stop being creepy," you grumble, holding your towel tightly around yourself. "Have you come to say you're sorry for acting like a prick or just stare a hole into my head?"
Tangerine's eyes narrow and he shakes his head. He stalks closer to you, pink lips parted and his hands find your hair near your nape. He pulls you in, seemingly unbothered by the squeal you make or how you're unable to move your hands to push him away. 
Not that you'd want to push him away anyway.
"The fuck you think you're doing?" you hiss, staring at him, "have you gone mad?"
Tangerine just continues to stare into your soul. "You're so damn annoying," he mutters.  
"I'll scream and Lemon will come and beat the shit out of you," you threaten, challenging him. You know Lemon would never do such a thing and you'd be a fool to scream. 
"But, fuck me, I like you so damn much," he finishes his sentence, and then his lips find yours. His hand tightens in your hair as he kisses you. There's no tenderness in his kiss, no hesitation or remorse, just pure passion as he wraps his arms around you and holds your back as he pulls your chest to his. 
You clutch the towel, making sure it feels secure, and kiss him back. You make a small sound behind his lips but you can't deny the heat in the kiss or how badly your stomach tightens just right. The steam coming from your bathroom is taunting as it surrounds you; sticky and warm. 
"Tan," you mumble as his hand comes around your jaw and he turns your head to kiss your neck. 
"Shut up," he growls, "you talk too damn much." He squeezes his eyes shut and the words fall easily from his lips as they press to your skin.
"God, you don't understand how hard it is for me; hearing your sweet voice in my ear while I'm trying not to get fuckin' stabbed or shot to death! You don't know what you do to me, darlin'. You have no fuckin' clue. It's fuckin' torture," he says as his hand tightens in your hair and you whimper.
"Tan, m-my towel," you tell him, struggling to hold it up as his body presses against yours.
This makes Tangerine snap out of whatever trance he's in for a moment and he looks down at you. His eyes have softened just a little and his tone is sultry when he asks, "Let it fall. I don't care. Do you?" His lips quirk up. "I've dreamt of you naked a thousand times, luv."
Your eyes round at the intensity of his words. You want to tell him to fuck off—that you've never thought of him like this. Never imagined his lips on yours or the way he'd feel inside you. But then you'd be a liar, and you aren't a liar. 
Instead, you drop the towel, your eyes still intensely locked onto his. The cold air sends a shiver up your spine and Tangerine's hands find the skin on your back instead of the towel. His eyes haven't left yours and he looks surprised that you'd done it. He hasn't looked down and his cheeks have turned a dusty pink. 
"What?" you move your hands up to his cheeks and hold them, "you said you'd dreamt of this. Well?" With as much confidence as you can muster, tilt his head to your naked body. You can feel your hands tremble against his cheeks, all kinds of insecurities and uncertainties bubbling inside you and just as you're going to pull away from sheer embarrassment, Tangerine speaks; 
"Fuckin' hell, you look so much better than in my imagination," his hands slide up the curves of your hips and breasts. His touch is surprisingly gentle for how passionate he'd been in the beginning.
You watch as his eyes roam around your body and he runs a hand over his jaw, staring at you with pure admiration. "You belong in a fuckin' museum," he whispers behind his hand. 
"Alright, lover boy," you roll your eyes and shift to move away but his hands find your hips and he hoists you up into his arms. You gasp, your arms finding his shoulders and your legs cling to his waist as your wet hair sprinkles water over his face. It's a weird position to be in considering you're naked.
"Tangerine!" you cry as he carries you over to your bed and you squeal when he drops you and hovers over you. 
"Let me worship you, darlin'," he whispers as his knee slides in between your legs and he kisses your lips again. He disconnects them and looks at you seriously, "Please," he pleads and your eyes widen.
Tangerine never says please.
You find yourself nodding, too lost in the haze of it all to hear the small voice in your head screaming how stupid this is.
He'll throw you away after. He doesn't care. He'll hurt you. He'll break your heart! 
You kiss him again, his lips moving against yours rhythmically. You're so lost in pleasure that when he sits up on his heels to strip his shirt, you whine and grasp at his arms. "Shhh, I'm here, dove," he chuckles, enjoying the power he has over you. When he leans over you to kiss you again, this time your hands find his abs and you can't help but explore them. 
"You countin' them, luv?" he chuckles after a moment and his lips find your nipples as he squeezes one of your breasts in his hands. You make an embarrassed sound that quickly turns into a moan when he positions your hips just right so the fabric of his slacks hits your clit. 
"I know, I know," Tangerine teases as he senses how needy you're becoming. "Shit, you're just a little slut, aren't ya, luv? Knew you'd wear those dresses to tempt me—didn't ya?"
You nod. You had. You didn't think it worked—he always played it so cool.
"You should know I would wank one out after seeing you—your thighs so visible and," he pauses and uses his hands to spread you open until he sees what he wants, "and that pretty pussy. So fuckin' pretty—
—you let me have a peek sometimes didn't you, naughty girl? Knew you did it on purpose," Tangerine says. He sounds satisfied with himself that he'd found you out and his grin widens when you nod. 
"Just for you," you whisper, looking up at him with hooded eyes. "Please, Tan," you whine, you're already so wet for him. 
"What do you want, hm? Tell me," he smirks and dips his head down to kiss your neck as his hands wander around your skin. He sits back up and removes his slacks and boxers. Your eyes downturn on his cock and you bite your lip. God, is he really this beautiful everywhere? How fucking unfair. 
Tangerine's hand comes up to your chin, "Where do you want me?" 
You look into his eyes, unsure how to ask him for what you want. Tangerine smiles, his thumb touching your lip. He's gentle, his eyes softer now, "Peach," he leans in and kisses just behind your ear. You shiver. "It's okay. Tell me where you want me," he smiles against your skin. 
"Inside me," you say, your voice small
Tangerine hums and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, "Where inside you, luv? I want to hear you say it for me."
You feel your cheeks warm and you stare up at him. "In my pussy," you say and Tangerine's eyes light up and he smirks.
"My pleasure," he says and shifts his hips until you feel his cock press against your pussy. He feels you tense as your hands tighten around his shoulder.
"Hey, it's just me," he says, pushing in slower now. He looks concerned as one of his hands finds your hair and pushes the strands away from your eyes.
Yeah, that's the issue, you want to tell him but you just nod, squeezing your eyes shut. 
"Look at me," he says as he pushes inside you fully. You gasp, arching into him and your breathing becomes harsh. He's so thick and long. Tangerine doesn't move and you let out a whine, your eyelids fluttering. "I said, look at me. I won't move until you look at me, darlin'," he whispers sternly. 
When you finally look at him he smiles, "Do you trust me? I'm not gonna hurt you—promise." 
You nod, biting your lip. Of course, you trust him. "I trust you," you answer breathlessly. 
"Good girl," Tangerine praises and kisses your forehead. He starts to move his hips, pulling in and out of you with torturous strokes. He feels so good.
As he fucks you, he leans his forehead on yours, occasionally whispering praises into your ear as he tells you how pretty you look with him buried inside you. 
"So fuckin' pretty with my cock inside your pussy, hmm," he grunts, continuing the pounding of his hips. "You close, luv? Already?" He teases you with a smirk and kisses your lips. You let out small moans, skin warm and sticky as you nod. 
"Good," he smiles and uses his thumb to rub your clit, adding pressure as he fucks into you. "So good for me. All for me, hmm?" 
"Y-yes," you groan, squeezing your eyes shut. 
"Open your eyes, Peach," he demands and you do so instantly. "I want to look into your eyes when you come apart around me."
With that, the tension breaks inside you. Your body feels weak from the pleasure and your chest rises and falls rapidly once your high finishes. You let yourself relax into the mattress for a moment, ignoring the sudden stream of thoughts—good and bad—that race into your mind. Tangerine's lips touch your forehead again and then he pulls out, finishing on your stomach with a grunt. 
You blink, feeling the bed dip and then his warmth disappears. You panic a little but you're too weak to move. If he wants to leave, let him, you convince yourself as you stare at the ceiling. However, when you feel something cold and wet across your stomach, you flinch and scramble to sit up. 
Your eyes are wide and Tangerine pauses, removing the washcloth from your skin. He frowns a little, "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly. You stare at him. He's still shirtless but he's pulled up his trousers.
"You aren't leaving?" you ask, looking around the room and you suddenly feel very bare. 
Tangerine's frown deepens but he doesn't speak for a moment as he washes away his cum from your skin and, after discarding the washcloth, he reaches behind him to hand you his shirt. You accept it without thinking and put it on, wrapping your arms around yourself as you continue to stare at him. 
He shifts, sitting beside you with one leg off the bed. He still hasn't answered and you start to feel an impending pit in your stomach. 
"Why would I leave?" he asks calmly, his voice doesn't have a hint of concern in its tone. 
You fiddle nervously with the hem of his shirt, looking down. Your hair, now half-dried, is a mess from the pillows and you push it down and around your ears in an effort to compose yourself in front of him. "Well, I- I just assumed that you would—" 
Tangerine tilts his head. "You think I would fuck and ditch, did ya? Ya think so low of me, Peach?" It feels like he sounds almost amused.
You shake your head but your nerves don't stop. "I mean, what do you expect me to think, Tangerine?" you look into his eyes and continue, "You come in here, all pissed at me—you yelled at me earlier and made me feel all shitty about myself—and then out of nowhere you kiss me and then we—"
"Fuck." Tangerine finishes bluntly. 
You narrow your eyes at him. "Yeah, that," you let out a breath, "So, please, tell me. What am I supposed to think? What do you want from me now? Because I can't be one of your fuck toys, Tan. I refuse to be that girl. I- I care about you—" you feel your emotions get caught in your throat and you feel your eyes sting. Furiously, you wipe your eyes with your hands, refusing to cry in front of him. 
Tangerine hasn't said a word. He's looking at you but you can't read his expression. You hate it. You shut your eyes, ready to call it quits, and tell him to leave, but then you feel the bed dip again and you feel his hands cup your cheeks. Your eyes snap open.
"Don't cry," he whispers, his thumb sliding under your eyes and catching your tears, "Please, don't cry because of a stupid bastard like me," he cracks a smile, hoping you'll smile too but when you don't and he sighs, "Okay, I was a dick, a real fuckin' dick, and you didn't deserve any of that. I'm sorry." 
You nod, still listening to him, "You really were a dick," you whisper. 
Tangerine chuckles and nods too. "Yeah. I was," he pauses and moves his thumb across your cheeks as if admiring you some more, "Do ya really believe I'd fuck ya for this to be a one-time thing, luv? That I'd just throw ya away after?"
Your cheeks feel warm. "I- I don't know," 
"You do know. You think I would do that to ya," Tangerine says, his voice low. 
"I mean—that's what you do don't you? I've known you for years, Tan. All those girls—"
Tangerine suddenly laughs and his hands drop from your face. "Peach, you aren't those girls," he says, suddenly serious, "I wasn't just making it up when I said how hard it is for me to listen to you in my ear all the time. Not because you're annoying—which sometimes you are but that's beside the point—but because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for years. You're all I goddamn think about. Do you understand how hard that is for me?"
You just frown, shaking your head a little. "No. This doesn't make sense. Why now—why not yesterday? Or months ago? Or years ago?"
 Tangerine runs a hand in his hair and lets out a breath. "Because I didn't want to but I snapped, I snapped, okay? I'm not fuckin' proud of it. I yelled at you and I felt so bad after I didn't know what to do with myself anymore—
—you're always there for Lem and me, and I realized, after that fuckin' earpiece broke, that I hated not having your pretty voice in my ear anymore. It felt like I'd lost you—do you have any idea how scared that made me feel, even when I knew it was irrational and that you were completely safe?" His words come out jumbled and strained. "I fuckin' hated it, I hated feeling like that so I snapped," he finishes. 
You stare at him, his words hitting you hard. You've never seen him like this and it scares you, but it also turns you on some more. Why does he have to be so fucking hot? "And I'm sorry. I am. I would never throw you away. I don't want to throw you away after this—especially after fucking you—that's the last thing I would want! I– I-" 
You stare at him some more, your eyes wide, "You what—?"
Tangerine pauses, "I love you," he says, articulating every word so you hear him clearly. 
"You love me?"
"Yes."
"As in love love?"
"Fuckin' hell Peach, ya want me to scream it at ya or somethin'? I'm in love with ya. I love ya more than anythin' I fuckin' have. You're my everything. I love you so damn much."
All your anger, doubt, and shame instantly vanished into thin air. He loves you. All this time he'd loved and he was just shit at expressing his emotions? You laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as happiness overwhelms you. 
"Are ya laughing at me?" Tangerine's voice cuts in the air and you focus on him. He looks surprised and hurt. 
Your smile falters and you shake your head. There is so much you want to tell him that you're at a loss for words. He looks so pretty like this, sitting in front of you, and your hands find his cheek instead of using words.
Your fingers skim the bandage that's still wrapped around his ear and you want to ask him if it still hurts. You want to ask him so many things. He's staring at you, chest heaving, and you don't think as you kiss him. 
It's softer than the previous passionate kiss you'd shared. Only, Tangerine reacts with as much eagerness as earlier. His hands find your back and he presses you against him, your lips sliding against yours. It's intense and lovely all in the same. 
"I love you too," you say quietly between kisses. 
"Say it louder," Tangerine suddenly hums, his eyes shut in pleasure. You think he needs you to talk louder because one of his ears is bandaged and hurt.
So, you do as he asks and it earns you another kiss, however when Tangerine mutters, "I wanna hear ya say it again," you know he heard you fine. His voice is so love sick you just grin and wrap your arms around him, your hands bunching in his curls.
"I love you, Tangerine," you say breathlessly, "I love you."
"You have no idea how happy ya just made ma, luv," he responds instantly, running his hand over your cheek as he looks into your eyes. "God, I'd die for ya," he mutters and you frown, slapping his arm a little. 
"Don't talk about you dying, you git," you reprimand, and Tangerine smirks. 
He kisses your neck and with a teasing tone he reassures you, "Ya have nothin' to worry about, luv. I'd much rather live for you. You have all of my heart, darlin'. It's all yours," he guides your hand to press your palm against his chest and you feel how quickly his heart is beating.
"This beats for you."
You smile and kiss his lips once more as you bring his other hand to your chest too. "And I'm yours," you whisper. "Only yours."
And until then, you'd never seen Tangerine's grin widen as widely as it did when you said those words. 
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roosterforme · 11 months
Text
The Younger Kind Part 13 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: When Bradley sees Meredith again after so many months, he is filled with a range of emotions. He wonders if he has done enough for Noah on his own. His primary mission in life is to be the best dad, the one Noah deserves, and he has to be honest about how that is going to affect what he has going on with you.
Warnings: Angst, smut, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
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Bradley was up early. He'd barely slept anyway, but that wasn't entirely Meredith's fault. He had been scrolling through all the photos of you that he had saved on his phone, and he even considered calling you well past midnight. 
He had a bad feeling. Meredith had never gone this far before. Last year and the year before, she had simply called Bradley, begging for an update about Noah around his birthday. And once he had sent her some updated photos, she briefly bugged him about custody, and then she had vanished again. But now he felt like he had made things so much worse by ignoring her calls for so long. 
"What the fuck," he muttered as he got dressed. Meredith had followed you and Noah to the damn park! He wanted to believe that she wouldn't intentionally do any actual harm, but she obviously spooked you. Since you had no idea what she looked like, your reaction had been to put Noah's safety first.
Every time Bradley thought about you protecting his child, he got a warm feeling in his chest. Simply thanking you wasn't enough; he wanted to hold you and Noah and spend hours explaining it to you. Then maybe he could understand this feeling better himself. 
But you got hurt in this mess that Bradley had helped create. And he needed to make it better if he could. 
There was a light knock at his front door, and he went to answer it as he zipped up his jeans. "Hi," Nat whispered, giving him a tight hug as he let her inside. "What time is she coming?" 
"I have no idea," he replied miserably, and Nat rubbed his back for a moment. When Bradley called her last night, she agreed to watch Noah while Meredith came by. He wanted to find out what Meredith wanted before he let her see Noah.
"Okay, well, I'm free all day. I'll take Noah with me back to my place, and you can just call me after Meredith fucks off."
Bradley nodded. 
"And if Meredith doesn't feel like fucking off," she added, "I'll make her."
Bradley couldn't help but grin down at her. "Thanks, Nat. I'll go wake him up."
Once he had played another round of musical car seats, Bradley waved as Nat pulled out of his driveway with Noah and a stack of coloring books in tow. Of course the coloring books were ones that you had brought over when you came to babysit or just spend time here, and now Bradley was itching to call you. 
Instead he messed around with his coffee maker and brewed a vanilla latte, just the way you liked it. He was still sipping it and thinking about how much he loved the way you looked in his house when another knock jarred him from his thoughts. 
He abandoned the coffee on his counter and went to the door once again. "Meredith," he said with no emotion as the tall blonde pushed past him and into his living room. 
"Bradley." Her expression was smug as she looked around; it had been years since she was here, and very little had changed. But Bradley did see her eyes catch on some of the artwork you and Noah had made for him which was hanging on the far wall. "Where's Noah?" 
"He's not here," Bradley replied, tucking his hands in his pockets.
She turned back to him and glared. She had always been beautiful but haughty. "I don't want to see you. I want to see him."
Bradley didn't waver. "You specifically told me on the phone that you wanted to talk to me in person. So let's talk."
"Fine," she said cooly, dropping down onto his couch. "But next time we set something like this up, I want him here too."
Bradley almost laughed in her face as he sat too. Next time? Over his dead body there would be a next time. Noah didn't know who his birth mother was, and Bradley wanted to keep it that way. Bradley grew up without a dad, but under very different circumstances. Meredith had a track record of being nonexistent, and Bradley didn't want that for his son.
"Where is he?" she asked, sharp eyes on him. 
Bradley sighed. "He's being well taken care of, Meredith."
"By your babysitter?" Then she said your first and last name, and Bradley felt a chill wash over his body. 
"How do you know her name?" he grunted, clenching and unclenching his fist in his lap.
"It wasn't hard to find out after I got her license plate number. She's a nursing student at the University of San Diego, Bradley. A mere child," she said, shaking her head sadly.
Bradley's heart was pounding. Meredith knew who you were, and she wanted something from him. "Did you scare my babysitter on purpose yesterday?"
Meredith laughed, head tipped back as she placed her hand over her heart. "Are you really going to keep calling her that, Bradley? She's obviously 'babysitting Noah' because you're messing around with her. Your little booty call. And she looks like she is all of eighteen years old."
"She's twenty four. And don't talk about her like that," Bradley replied through gritted teeth. "Don't."
Her eyes lit up. "So it is true. I was just making an assumption, going off a hunch. She's cute, so I'm not surprised at all. But I don't think they are going to take too kindly to a father who is busy fucking the babysitter. One who is basically half his age, at that. A father who is distracted. A trashy, young babysitter who is sleeping with someone over a decade older than her."
"Meredith," he growled, trying his hardest to stay calm, but he was seething now. 
"And you let that trash around our son, Bradley. A glorified slut, making money and getting laid while she's at it. And that's not even taking into account that you're still in the Navy. You leave Noah with random friends of yours every time you're deployed, none of whom are his legal guardian. None of them can make decisions in an emergency. You lack any and all stability." She was completely calm as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and sighed. "No, they will not like that at all."
"What the fuck are you getting at, Meredith?" And then Bradley noticed for the first time that she brought a fancy looking leather bag with her, out of which she procured a manila folder.
"This should spell everything out nicely for you." She handed it to him, and he opened it and skimmed through a stack of papers. His heart rate grew steadily faster until it was getting hard to breathe. It felt just like the first time he hit 8 G's. He was going to throw up. Bradley could feel the bile rising in his stomach as the panic truly set in. His insides clenched as he looked at her.
"You want custody."
"Full custody, yes. I have a lawyer. A good one."
He closed the folder and tried to hand it back to her, but she pulled her hands away and stood. "You can keep that," she said with a smirk. "I made several copies."
Bradley stood as well, and got in her face. "No judge in this entire state is going to award you custody of Noah. Not after the shit you've pulled."
She shrugged and headed for the door. "Lucky for me, you've pulled your own shit. We'll just have to wait and see who sounds more believable."
His heart was thudding, and his ears were ringing. "You abandoned us, Meredith! You haven't paid a single penny for anything in nearly four years, and Noah doesn't even know who the fuck you are!"
As she turned the knob, she looked back at him and said, "Abandonment is a strong word, and you can't prove anything. And may I suggest you learn to keep your emotions in check? It will be good practice for the courtroom. And you need to keep that girl you're sleeping with away from our son. I won't hesitate to ruin her if I need to. You already forced me to go through her once, Bradley. I'll do it again with no remorse if I have to. Noah is my son. Just because that girl is fucking you, that doesn't give her the same rights I have."
"Do I need to get a restraining order, Meredith?" he called, but she was already walking out to her car with a little wave over her shoulder. 
"Not if you want me to allow you to have visitation rights. Oh, and make sure you answer my calls next time, so we can prevent another visit at the park!"
-------------------------------
You were laying on your back porch in the sun, trying to finish reading your assignments for the following week. Every hour or so, your phone went off, but it was never from the only person you wanted to hear from. It was just a bunch of texts from Greyson, begging you to come over. He must be bored. It was probably too early in the day for him to get stoned, and you knew he was too lazy to look for another girl for the night. That was why he was bothering you now. 
You squinted and turned your head away from the sunlight and thought about your ruined sunglasses, crunched up in the parking lot next to the playground. Bradley said he was going to call Meredith. You were so embarrassed; you actually ran away from Noah's mom. Surely she wasn't going to hurt either of you. She probably just wanted to see him, even if she did sound like a bitch when Bradley described her. But she was pretty. And probably just the right age for Bradley. Now you had a very clear image in your mind of exactly what he was trying to replicate when he was using the dating app.
You had a gross feeling in your stomach. You hated waiting like this. You were always waiting for everyone else. First you waited for Greyson to contact you whenever he wanted to see you. More recently you'd been waiting for Bradley to let you know where you stood with him.
When you decided you were hungry, you stood and went to your kitchen. You tore open a bag of Skittles as you looked through your refrigerator, but after you ate a handful, you left the rest on the counter and walked away. 
When your phone rang late in the afternoon, you answered it as soon as you saw who it was. 
"Bradley?" you asked softly, and you were met with a beat of heavy silence that made you want to cry.
"Hi. Any chance you can stop by later? Just for a minute?"
"Yeah," you replied, pacing the length of your small living room before curling up on your couch. "I can do that."
"I'll see you later."
-------------------------------
Nat kept Noah at her place for most of the day while Bradley had a good, old fashioned nervous breakdown. His best friend was good like that, and he didn't even have to give her any details yet. She just knew what to do without any prompting. 
Bradley sat in the middle of Noah's bedroom floor and thought about everything he could lose if this didn't work out for him. He had a dresser full of Noah's little clothes behind him, and a closet full of Noah's toys next to him. He paid for everything for his child. And not that Noah was a burden on him in any way, but they never got any help from Meredith, monetarily or otherwise. But he could see how it would be impossible to prove she abandoned the two of them. And it probably didn't help that he never returned her phone calls or let her see him when she begged in the past.
She was a business developer. She made more money than Bradley. But he never went after her for a cent, because he knew he would rather have his son to himself than have to share Noah with someone who didn't really care about him.
So why the fuck did Meredith want to be involved now? It didn't make sense. And Bradley hated that he thought the worst of her at this moment, but he did. He just knew there had to be something he was missing here. 
He laid back on the floor and fiddled with his phone, forcing himself to stop from calling you. He rubbed one large hand along his face and let out a sting of curse words. The fact that he wasn't sure if he would be able to protect his own son was making him anxious and scared. But he could protect you. He could save your name from being dragged through the mud. He could prevent you from potentially spending your time in a courtroom, from becoming collateral damage to Bradley's crime of falling for Meredith and getting her pregnant in the first place. 
And Bradley knew he had to protect you, because he wasn't worth it. Getting messed up with him was not worth your time and aggravation. He just wished he had pumped the brakes a little harder, told you this was a bad idea and shut it down earlier. He should have never let it get physical. All the flirtation and banter should have been enough for him. He should have taken it for the ego boost that it could have been and moved on, pursued a woman from the dating app and stayed away from you. 
It was already too late for him though. Because he knew how you tasted. He knew all the little noises you made when you were underneath him. He knew how good you looked in his clothes. He knew how much Noah loved you. And he fucking knew you loved his kid right back.
And now all of his baggage was coming back to haunt him. 
"Fuck!" Bradley shouted. And then he scrolled through his phone until he found Tracy's number. It was a Saturday, and he hated to do this on the weekend, but what choice did he have? 
"Hello?" 
"Tracy? It's Bradley Bradshaw. I'm not sure if you remember me, and I'm sorry it's Saturday-"
"Bradley. Of course I remember you. And your sweet son. Noah, was it?"
"Yeah," he replied, running his hand over his eyes. He had taken Noah with him last year when Nat urged him to talk to a lawyer about setting up a will. They had also touched on the topic of a custody agreement, which Bradley had firmly told Tracy was something that wasn't necessary at the time. 
"What can I do for you?"
"Do you remember our conversation about custody and parental rights for Noah?"
"Yes, I remember."
He sighed deeply. "I think I need to revisit that conversation."
----------------------------
You changed into a cute sundress and packed up the three remaining coloring books and the pack of neon crayons you had for Noah. You added a bag of Skittles to your tote, and then you headed out to your car as tears prickled your eyes. 
Your arm hurt a lot more today, and changing the bandages with your left hand had been challenging. You considered taking your first aid kit along with you and asking Bradley for help. But then you decided that getting over there and getting this over with was more important. 
He must have spoken to Meredith by now, and while you weren't sure exactly what that meant for you, there was no doubt it wasn't good. 
You parked in his driveway alongside his Bronco, and let yourself in the front door. It was late. Noah was probably in bed already. That was probably why Bradley asked you to come now. 
"Hi," you whispered. He was sitting in the middle of the couch with his elbows resting on his knees, and he looked impossibly handsome as he glanced up at you. 
"Hi," he echoed, his voice deep and raspy. You thought that maybe he wanted to add Princess to that greeting by the way his lips were silently working, but then he snapped his mouth shut. 
You wanted to go sit in his lap. It was the only thing that would make you feel better right now, but you knew you shouldn't do it. And as you took a few steps closer to him, he stood, and you could feel the heat from his big body. 
"Are you okay?" you asked softly. He leaned a little closer to you, like he wanted to kiss you. His hands were reaching for your hips, but you watched him clench them into fists and drop them to his sides. 
"I think I will be," he replied, and you couldn't stand it any longer. You reached for his face, stroking his mustache as his eyes closed. And then you kissed him. And he kissed you back. Right before he took a staggering step away from you.
------------------------------
The only thing Bradley wanted to do was get lost in your kisses and beg for you. He wished he could forget about everything that had happened after he fucked you at your place and left for work yesterday. Pretend Meredith wasn't a threat. But he couldn't keep pretending. That much was made clear when he spoke to his lawyer earlier.
After he stepped away from you, he cleared his throat and said, "We can't do this anymore."
You laughed humorlessly as you ran your fingers along your glossy lips. "Can't do what anymore, Bradley? What exactly have we been doing?"
"Messing around," he replied, keeping his eyes on your face. It was so much more than that though, and he felt like the biggest asshole in the world for trying to make you think he felt any differently. For trying to make you think he didn't care about you. "It was fun, but I need to take things seriously. For myself and for Noah."
You pressed your lips together and looked at the floor. "Did you and Meredith get back together?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper. 
The thought of it made him sick. It made him feel outraged to even think about Meredith at all, let alone romantically. But if that's where your mind went, then so be it. 
"We talked about it."
You gasped, but you didn't look at him. "You told me she abandoned you. And you think that would be best for Noah? Best for you?"
"I'm... not sure," he replied, wanting more than anything to collect you in his arms and take care of you. Kiss you. Be with you. But he couldn't protect you and do those things right now. Not after his conversation with Meredith, and especially not after speaking to Tracy. "But sometimes people change."
"You sound unsure," you said, looking up at him hopefully as tears collected in your eyes. "Why won't you give me a good reason? A solid reason?"
Bradley ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath, using his anger to hold back his own tears. "I can give you a whole list of reasons. Is that what you want?" You didn't respond verbally, but the quiver of your lips made him keep going. "You're too young for me. I need a woman more mature than you. Someone who would help me take care of Noah. Someone I could be in a real fifty/fifty relationship with. And not just with Skittles."
You sobbed, and he hated himself. But he kept going.
"You think you want this, but you don't. You're just a kid. You don't know what you want. But I can guarantee that me and all my baggage isn't it."
"I never said you had baggage-"
But he cut you off, shaking his head and saying, "I said it. So it doesn't matter what you did or didn't say. This is not going to work. I don't want this."
You had tears dripping onto your cheeks now as you looked up at him. Your pretty face was scrunched up in sadness or rage. Probably both. Because he was behaving like a dick. 
Your shoulders shook while you cried. "Fine. I understand," you said through your tears. "I can't make you want me back."
He felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs, because you were the only thing he wanted right now. He had let himself indulge in his feelings for you, and now he was hurting you on purpose. And it was killing him.
"Can I say goodbye to Noah?" you whispered, swiping at your tears.
Bradley nodded, stumbling behind you as you walked quickly to Noah's room. He stood in the doorway and watched you gently brush Noah's hair away from his forehead as you sobbed. Then you bent to kiss his cheek and whispered, "I love you, Noah."
Bradley couldn't take it. He turned away and walked back to the living room. He broke his own heart, which he could eventually probably handle, because the outcome he wanted was important to him. He could come to terms with keeping you away from him. He knew you'd be better off without him in the long run anyway.
But he hadn't anticipated how much this was going to hurt his son. Maybe he had made a mistake.
When you walked back into the living room with your tote bag on your shoulder, you slapped Bradley's house key against his chest without looking at him. He fumbled and caught it before it dropped, but when he turned toward you, all he saw was the swirl of your dress as the door slammed shut behind you. 
Bradley stood with the key in his hand, inhaling the smell of wildflowers as he listened to your car pull out of his driveway. 
"Goodbye, Princess."
-----------------------------
Bradley, what did you do?! Hope you enjoy your babysitter fic which you help me write, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !
PART 14
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gyuswhore · 7 months
Text
the story of us ✦ j.w.w x reader
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the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now - the story of us
synopsis: So many walls that you can't break through; except you do.
wc: 2.1K
contains: best friends to lovers, angst, fluff, humour, happy ending, alcohol, arguments
masterlist
Support creators by reblogging!
[a/n]: im exhausted, im loopy, im hungry, but i really wanted to post this so here you go my babies I'm sorry i haven't fed you in so long (ty @toruro for making sure i wasn't talking out of my ass in this ily)
[edit; 11/04/24]: grammar and spelling.
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Jeon Wonwoo was nearing boiling point when he watched you push him away from yet another conversation.
He tried to understand, just like he always had. But it was proving near impossible at the five-month mark. 
There were clear signs you exhibited when you needed space, for whatever reason, Wonwoo knew you would tell him when you recovered. So he gave you what you needed.
And yet, when he finds himself pushed away from what looks like a casual conversation between your mutual friends, he finds his mild annoyance grow into something hotter. 
There’s a clench in his jaw as he tries not to squeeze the red cup in his hand with too much pressure, even when all the spiteful bit of his brain wants to do is to pour its pigmented contents all over your cream outfit. He manages to control himself, choosing to get up and exit the premises entirely. In complete silence, he refuses to acknowledge any yell of his name from passing acquaintances. 
Jeon Wonwoo refused to respond to any of your advances after that. 
Invitations to lunch were left on a jarring sent, the notification sitting in his log until he chooses to open it too late. His response was bare when you asked for help on some accounting concepts, pushing you over into Jihoon’s hands to fulfill your requirements. There’s a blatant shrug when you touch his shoulder, concerned, asking why his behaviour had become so distant in the past weeks; he responds with a mumble of, “just tired”.
The great divide happened a few days proceeding your birthday, one for which Wonwoo did nothing for but send you a quick message during the evening, never to see you throughout the extended day. 
“I can’t believe you’re putting this on me!” you all but yell, eyes wide and expression exasperated at the situation.
“Are you blind? Or just plain stupid? Because I didn’t tolerate months of your shit attitude to have you say it isn’t your fault.” Wonwoo is breathing heavily, hands motioning towards your entire figure with equal disbelief.
“What attitude?” you emphasize. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I couldn’t be upfront with my best friend.”
“There’s a difference between being in a mood and blatant disrespect. I’m tired of having to put up with your mood swings like it’s my responsibility to coddle you. When was the last time you genuinely asked me how I was doing?”
“All the time!”
“Yeah, after you realize there's nobody else to whine and wail to!”
“Wonwoo, you’re being ridiculous.”
“Fine. If I’m clearly so unhinged, I’ll leave you to your liking.” 
The dwindled interactions, from messages to hellos, went from sparing to nonexistent — just like that. 
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You’d be lying if you said you didn’t expect for you and Wonwoo to reconcile in the matter of a few days, if not a couple weeks.
But when the distance did nothing but grow larger, there was a settle of resentment in the pit of your stomach as you accepted the feud you were in. 
A text was sent from your phone a couple days after the incident.
[You]: can we talk?
But when you see no sign of the grey Delivered on the end, you knew he had blocked you. 
This was all nothing less than baffling to you for a number of reasons, starting with how you had never witnessed Wowoo acting this way. 
Wonwoo had done nothing but reprimand you the rare chance you suggested blocking an apprehensive individual, something about not showing that you cared. His voice seemed redundant after a certain decibel, the rarest chance to witness him yell at a failed video game or a frustrating professor. 
You know better, which is the only reason you’re ruling off paranormal possession. 
The claims against you came as an afterthought, not, however, rendering them any less strange. There’s a part of you that pondered if your shield of annoyance blocked you from seeing the truth in his words and in your behaviour, finding yourself overwhelmed with emotions when the thought crossed your mind, tears of frustration immediately blurring your vision. 
You did not understand, you could not. And when it all got too much, you allowed the hurt and confusion to turn into something more dangerous. You replaced it with anger, in the same place that once occupied a more delicate emotion. 
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There was an uproar in Wonwoo’s mind when he sees you walk into the lecture hall, unaware of your overlapping schedule in the new semester. He watches as your eyes pass over the moderately packed space, briefly glancing over where he sat; if you saw him, you did nothing to bring a reaction out of it. You take a seat a few rows up front, right in front of him where he’s able to see the back of your head for the next two hours — for the rest of the semester. 
He wonders if it’s too late to switch classes. 
“Wonwoo, I honestly think this is getting out of hand.” Jihoon munches on his cashews, leaning against bark of the tree they were both sat under. 
“Did you want me to keep tending to her bullshit then?” he grumbles.
“That’s not what I’m saying, you know it’s not.”
“That’s what it sounds like.” Wonwoo’s retort is brisk.
Jihoon is suddenly snapping his fingers in his face at the reply, a flinch accompanies Wonwoo’s already sour expression. 
“See! See how frustrating it is when somebody isn’t making sense?” 
“How does this—” 
“Wonwoo, did you try talking to her about how you felt, you know, without the screaming?” 
Jihoon watches as Wonwoo’s expression clears out, his eyebrows unfurrowing and the scowl fading. He doesn’t speak, choosing to let the realization kick in.
“No.” 
Jihoon sighs, taking another pause. “I’m not saying what she did wasn’t uncalled for, but you need to talk shit out before deciding you hate each other.”
“I don’t hate her.”
“Right, so can we wrap this up quickly and have you confess your undying love so we can all relax.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Heat crawls up Wonwoo’s cheeks.
“What? If you don’t hate her, it’s gotta be the opposite.”
Did Wonwoo like you? Yeah, he probably did. Did he ever let himself ponder upon it? No, because he was downright mortified of the mere thought. He finds himself a hypocrite to say it was to preserve your friendship, but he figures he’s fucked it up in a way that’s arguably worse. 
Regardless, Wonwoo walks away from that conversation with two things: a stark realization, and an even starker admittance. 
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Everything was going wrong. At least that’s what it felt like when you hear the clang of your water bottle hit the pavement, rolling off into the oncoming traffic as you sprint to grab it. You nearly cause a vehicle pile-up, swallowing a couple profanities from braking drivers. 
You’re stuffing the darn thing into your bag when you trip on a loose brick on the path, nearly landing on your face. The glare you send into the pavement costs you even more when a hard shoulder bumps into your side, sending you another couple steps back. You don’t bother to see who the perpetrator is, too preoccupied with your attempts to take in deeper breaths amid the blankness of your mind. 
There are no hiccups after that, what you might owe your more conscious mind to. Stomping up the library steps, you thank nothingness for the air conditioning that meets your hot face, slowing down as you take in the crowd. 
Scanning the room for an empty seat is harder than you’d anticipated, hoping the heat would keep students away from the building as you left to get work done. Approaching a table, you set down your bag with a huff, pulling the chair out to finally take the seat you’ve been needing for so long. 
The universe seems to have other plans. 
It’s almost funny the way you and Wonwoo make eye contact across the other table, the recognition sending a jolt through your stomach. 
You’ve never moved so fast, pushing the chair back in with a screech that earns you a few looks, grabbing the handles of your bag as you turn around to leave the building you’d just entered. 
No way you'd sit there. Not when he was around.
You're bounding down the steps when somebody passes you, murmuring something without slowing their stride.
“I’m leaving, you can go inside,” Wonwoo says, and the sound of his voice has you halting almost immediately.
Whipping your head around to search for the sound, you watch as he takes a turn at the end of the steps, slowly moving out of your vision. 
There’s a swirl of something in your chest, and you realise in that moment how much you missed hearing his voice. 
Chiding yourself, you blink back the water that wells up in your eyes, embarrassed at how quickly you were losing yourself.
But the damage was done. And you wanted to be reckless, regardless of how desperate it made you look. A split second decision is made in that moment, one that lightens the heavy feet that you’ve planted on the concrete. 
You’re back to bounding down the steps, but this time with aim. 
Taking the same turn you saw Wonwoo take, you break into a sprint as you see his figure move farther away. You keep running, continuing to bump into both objects and people, hurried "sorry"'s the only thing you choose to throw their way. 
“Wonwoo!” Your voice comes out stronger than you’d intended, the sharpness having him turn around in search, eyes landing on your accelerating figure. 
Both of you realize too late how fast you’re really going, the velocity taking you directly into his outstretched arms, hands grasping the sleeves of his shirt as you come to screeching stop directly into his chest. 
You don’t have the time nor the patience to be embarrassed, pulling your face back to look directly into Wonwoo’s bewildered eyes to huff out your next words.
“Why did you block me?” you ask, voice gruff and slightly out of breath.
Wonwoo’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, words refusing to come out. 
“Why are you so mad at me? Why are you being nice to me if you’re mad at me?” You don’t stop, the direct questions tumbling off your tongue in desperation. 
You search his face for an answer when his mouth fails, but all you find is the remnants of shock yet to ebb away. 
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel like you weren’t important, I’m sorry for taking your presence for granted, I’m sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for…for… I don’t know! I’m just really sorry and I don't know how else to make this right.”
“I’m sorry, too,” you hear him say and you feel the moisture return to your eyes. 
“Huh?”
“I should’ve…” he pauses, looking sheepish. “I should’ve talked to you before I, y’know, went off on you. I should’ve managed my feelings better, I’m sorry.” 
You're silent for a few tantalizing moments before you raise your fists, and pound down on his chest with everything you have. You do it again, and then again, and again—
“What?- Ow!” 
“When are you gonna stop bottling up your feelings for fucks sake, it’s landed you everywhere but good!” you say, nearly yelling.
Wonwoo whips his head around to see who’s listening, palm to mouth in attempts to silence you. 
“I’m sorry! I know! I’m working on it,” he rambles, trying to get you to quit struggling. “Jihoon and I talked, that’s why I realised I was being dumb.”
“Are you gonna unblock me now or do I need to pay Jihoon to sit down with you again?”
Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrow. “You payed Jihoon to sit with me?”
“No, you idiot. But I should have because you can’t seem to figure out how to feel emotions.” 
Wonwoo can’t help himself when he breaks out into a grin, letting out a breathy chuckle that has you asking “What?”.
He pulls you in, heart to heart in an embrace, holding you tight to make up for the weeks of no contact. He breathes in your scent and feels as though he hasn’t in years. 
“I’m not gonna come running up to you the next time you decide you hate me,” you mumble into his shoulder, pouting slightly.
“I love you.” 
“I love you, too.” 
“No.” Wonwoo pulls away but keeps you in his arms, looking at you, “I love you. Like, the kind of stuff that makes you wanna live together forever. I love you.” 
It’s your turn to gape like a fish. 
“W-what?”
“You told me not to bottle up my feelings.” 
“Yeah, but—wow, um.” 
“Did I make another mistake?” 
No! You wanted to scream. But you don’t. You instead lift your hands up to come around his face, cradling it. And you kissed him. 
“I love you, too. Like the live together forever kind.” 
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hermitscratch · 1 month
Note
Joel & Etho - 21, for the writing ? :3
Send me a pairing + a number! || Accepting
21. A kiss to shut them up, Joel/Etho, 957 words
[ Inspired in part by this lovely artwork by @plumadot ! ]
"So I've got a theory," Joel started.
It was a nice day; temperate in a way that heralded the approaching warm season. A lot of hermits were taking advantage of it to check the things off their to-do lists that weren't easily done in cold or wet weather. Etho had broken off from the others for just that purpose, but as soon as he mentioned needing coral, Joel invited himself along.
Which meant a return to form in the shape of them, once again, sharing a boat.
"Do I have to listen to your theory?" Etho asked. The answer didn't matter much when he was a captive audience, but their conversations up until this point had been general, casual nonsense. How they spent their morning, how they liked their steak cooked, what ore they'd most be willing to eat. Time killers at worst, amusement at best.
Joel scoffed. "Don't act like you don't want to know what I'm thinking," Etho felt an elbow land against his ribs without any real force. It might have been rougher, if they weren't currently faced away from each other. Joel liked watching the wake the boat left behind, so they were pressed back-to-back. "It's about your obsession."
"My obsession? Don't you mean yours?" He retorted. Joel snorted, and Etho could imagine the smug grin that'd be accompanying it.
"This projection is getting embarrassing, Etho," Joel said with thinly veiled glee.
Etho rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Just tell me about your theory," He said through a chuckle.
From behind him, Joel wiggled like he was trying to look over his shoulder. The boat rocked hard to the left, and Joel stilled before crowing, "I knew you wanted to know!"
Etho stopped rowing to peer over the boat's edge. The ocean here was deep, illuminated only faintly by magma pockets and the occasional rogue glow squid. They'd made a lot of headway, but there was still a ways to go to reach an untouched reef. "I wonder if I could swim back to shore from here..."
"I'll push you overboard myself if you don't let me get a blummin' word out," Joel griped, even as he fisted a hand in the back of Etho's shirt. It wouldn't do much if Etho decided to move, but the idea that Joel might want him to stay was more than enough for Etho to do so.
Not that Etho would ever tell him that; his ex-soulmate's ego was big enough.
"You're the one stopping, though?" Etho answered, rebalancing the boat and adjusting the oars to continue rowing. Joel's inhale was audible, and before he could argue, Etho urged, "Let's hear your theory."
Joel crossed his arms with a huff. Etho grinned. Joel was probably pouting and everything. "D'you remember what Gem said this morning?"
"Hmm," Etho had to think the question through. They'd been hanging out with Gem, Impulse, and Scar that morning, a lot of things were said. "Mmmmaybe?"
After a few minutes of fruitless sifting through snippets of conversation that Joel might have found noteworthy, he threw Etho a bone. "When we were arguing about who built a better cherry tree, still me by the way, she said-"
Ah. "'Just kiss already', or something?" Etho offered.
Joel clapped once, "Exactly."
Etho laughed, pitching his voice up in a mockery of Joel's, "Oh no, I'm not obsessed, I'm just chasing him making smoochy sounds and thinking a lot about Gem telling us to kiss-"
"That first thing was literally your fault!" Joel argued, "And I'm not thinking about it, alright? There's nothing to think about, it's just a thing that is!"
"What is?"
Joel seemed to shrink, curling forward so their backs were no longer touching. "If we kissed, the world would sorta collapse, wouldn't it?"
Etho stopped so abruptly that he almost dropped an oar. What? "Uh. No?"
"Of course you'd say so, it's stupid how bad you wanna kiss me," Joel scoffed. The turn in conversation was so jarring that Etho didn't even argue the point about wanting to kiss Joel. "But the stir it'd cause would be massive. Gem would explode. Bdubs would probably explode, maybe Grian? Scar and Skizz, definitely, we'd never hear the end of it."
Etho locked the oars and turned around in his seat. If Joel noticed, he gave no indication, plowing relentlessly forward as if he'd realized there was no going back now that he'd started. Etho recognized that habit from their time together in Double Life- an anxious Joel with no other outlet would ramble himself breathless.
"Your mask as well," Joel continued, "Nobody's seen you without it-"
Etho tugged his mask down.
"-that's probably grounds for server obliteration in itself-"
He put a hand on Joel's shoulder.
"-if the first time anybody saw your face was for a kiss like that, then-"
He turned Joel to face him.
And before Joel could say another word, Etho kissed him.
Silence. Bliss. Etho's lips were dry from the mask, and he kept the press of them soft until he felt Joel's stiff body melt, meeting Etho's lean halfway. He tilted his head, and he could feel the flutter of long lashes against his face as Joel's eyes shut. The world kept turning, and Etho let it, stealing a moment just for them.
It only ended when Etho pulled away, leaving a dazed Joel to process what had just happened. Etho didn't bother putting his mask back up when he grinned. "Still alive?"
"Wh- y-?" Joel floundered. Etho chuckled, and Joel scowled, even as a dusty blush painted his cheeks pink. Even as he turned to face Etho properly, dropping his head against Etho's shoulder. Even as Etho felt lips against his racing pulse.
"Oh, shut up, Etho."
221 notes · View notes
lustfulslxt · 6 months
Text
Baby - Chris Sturniolo
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summary : you and chris go live on instagram, cooking dinner in the kitchen, singing and dancing to music together while fans gush over how cute you are.
You were in the kitchen, pulling out all of the ingredients you needed to make dinner. Your playlist on shuffle, softly playing in the atmosphere. You had a clean house, a free weekend, you were making your favorite dinner, and spending the night with your boyfriend. You were content.
"Gorgeous?" Chris speaks in a sing song voice, trailing behind you.
You hum in acknowledgement, still laying everything out.
"Can I help you?" He asks, linking his arms around your waist, planting his head on your shoulder.
"Of course, so long as you don't mess anything up."
He places a soft kiss on your neck, pulling away from you with his hands in surrender, "I promise. I'll do whatever you need me to."
You give him a smile and nod in agreement, softly pecking his lips.
On the counter, laid a pot, a skillet, a plastic spoon, noodles, oil, seasonings, jars of sauce, chicken, and heavy whipping cream.
"Fill this pot up with water." You instruct him, "Once you're done with that, place it on the big burner, on high."
He gives you a salute, "Yes, ma'am."
You knew he had the gist of it, but you wanted to be extra and explain every little thing to him. He followed your instructions, very simply. Once the pot of water was on the stove, he turned to you, expectantly.
“We’ve got to wait for it to come close to a boil before we start the chicken, that way they’re done at the same time.” You tell him.
He nods, before going to your phone and turning the music up. “Want to go live?”
After pondering for a split second, you agree and he logs onto Instagram and starts the live. Soon enough, there were thousands of fans watching.
“Hi guys!” You exclaim, standing next to Chris.
He greeted them as well, tossing an arm around your waist. The fans went crazy over it, causing you to lightly blush. Your music had stopped for a second, changing to the next song, which was Baby - Justin Bieber.
“Aw shit!” Chris grins, propping his phone up and pulling you back into the middle of the kitchen “Oh woah, oh woah, oh woah.” He sings, twirling you around.
Your laughter fills the air as the two of you sing and dance, oblivious to the fans screen recording and blowing the comments up, gushing over your relationship.
“She make my heart pound, and skip a beat when I see her on the street. And at school on the playground, but I really wanna see her on the weekend. She knows she got me dazing, cause she was so amazing.”
Even though it was just a song, with the way he was staring into your eyes and singing every lyric to you, while shamelessly dancing around the kitchen, in front of thousands of people, you nearly melted. The smallest things had you falling harder every day.
He pulled you into a soft kiss, not having a care in the world about the live. He loved you and he was never afraid to express it. Once he let you go and continued dancing like a fool, you went back to get the chicken started, a deep blush coating your cheeks.
You cut the chicken up, seasoned it, and put it in the skillet with oil. Next, you started the noodles. As that was going to take some time, you went back to join Chris and his shenanigans.
“I must apologize for acting stank and treating you this way.” You sing with him, “Cause I’ve been acting like sour milk all on the floor, it’s your fault, you didn’t shut the refrigerator. Maybe that’s the reason I’ve been acting so cold.”
You both laugh again, enjoying everything about the night you’re having. Chris pulls you in the direction of his phone, so you guys could read some comments and interact with the viewers for a moment.
“You guys are the cutest.” Chris reads out loud, turning his head towards you with a proud smile on his face.
“True love.” You read another comment, nodding in agreement as you looked back at him, staring in pure adoration.
“The love of my life.” He whispers, only you being able to hear him.
That didn’t stop fans from dissecting what he said through the movement of his lips, and they went absolutely barnacles. The way Chris admired everything about you and was relentless with his affection, made them crazy. They truly loved your guys’ relationship.
He pulled you into him once again, just holding you in his embrace. His scent pleasantly engulfed you as you deeply inhaled, taking in every second of it all. He was warm and you felt safe and content, you felt home.
“Y’all, I’m gonna marry this girl one day.” Chris tells the live, causing your face to heat up as the biggest smile pulled to your lips.
“Stop, you’re making me blush.” You giggled in a whisper.
“Sorry, gorgeous, I can’t help it. You drive me mad, in the best way possible.”
You pulled him in for a kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the last. You guys were perfectly in sync, merging together as one.
“I’m so in love with you.” You breathed into him lips.
“Let’s end the live.” He whispers, suggestively.
You let out a loud laugh, going to the phone, “Okay guys, we’re gonna call it a night. Gotta finish dinner. See you later!”
Chris threw up a peace sign with duck lips, bidding the fans goodbye.
You turned to him with a cheeky grin, “Maybe after dinner, you can show me how mad I drive you.”
“Don’t tempt me, baby.” He smirks.
You both laugh, going back to the cooking, happy to be with one another.
a /n : ok this was so shit, lowk feel like i rushed the ending.. still not proofread lolol. but like imagine chris dancing w you while y’all cook dinner and shit 😭 baby me now. send in requests pls pls
517 notes · View notes
personasintro · 6 months
Text
Mutual Help | #43
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↳ 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+
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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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.
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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. 
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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.
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