#this specific friend breakup is so hard for me because i went so far to make space for her

[bxdtime-ceai]

,

[floofweaver]

Mismatched, Misunderstood

I don't know if I'll finish this in time before the event ends because my muse is fighting me and motivation is saying no, but I'm posting what I have done so far in case anyone is interested. If I do end up finishing the fic, I'll delete this post.

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Ugh, definitely not him. Swipe left. Ooh, this guy’s cute. Swipe right. Nope, not another jock. Swipe left. Cute, but doubt he’ll match back. Swipe right. Not a football fan. Swipe left. Hmm, cute blonde dude. Damn, look at those muscles. Must be a bodybuilder of some kind. Swipe right. Swipe left.

Placing your phone down with a sigh, you take a sip of your coffee and relax as the warm, sugar-filled drink fills your mouth. It’d been nearly six months since your break-up with Orion. Dating for you had been rough; as had life in general. Certain textures on your tongue or your hands could lead to feeling nauseous. Too many sounds overlapping each other or loud noises all at once could lead to headaches. Socializing was made difficult by many aspects. Like the fact anything you enjoyed usually stuck around tenfold. Some people would watch a show and then move on when it ended. But for you, some shows or movies stuck with you. They became part of you. It was hard finding other people like that to make friends with, let alone dating.

Orion had felt like the perfect match. He showed interest in your artwork, your favourite media, and even indulged in your plushie hoard. Anytime he saw you eyeing a plushie while the two of you were out and about, he’d nudge you or tease you about it. You’d act like you didn’t know what he was talking about, of course, but later on in the day when the two of you returned home; you would then burst out in glee with your feet tippy-tapping away while you held your latest plush to your chest he just gifted you. The exact same plush you were eyeing in the stores earlier.

Little did you know that the gifts were almost always well-timed; meant to distract you from finding the truth. The truth that you discovered months ago that led to the breakup. It was a simple accident, really, but everything fell apart that day. You and Orion were just doing typical apartment cleaning on the weekend, like always, when he suggested you pull up your music playlist on his phone; which was connected to the apartment living room speakers. 

You pulled up YouTube and navigated to your profile, where you had your playlists set up and organized. Today felt like a “✨Hype Up!✨” kind of day, so that was the playlist you went with. Upbeat tunes were always perfect for cleaning. Or rather, dancing while cleaning. And singing. While cleaning… You were just about to press play when the message came through. 

Your heart stopped and you froze. Layla. Layla was messaging Orion again? You felt like you had just been punched in the gut. Layla had been Orion’s ex-fiancee and they hadn’t seen each other in years. Or… so you had thought. Several minutes of silence went by and when Orion finally noticed you hadn’t moved or started the music, that’s when he had come into the living room. You had anxiously asked him if it was a mistake, and that’s when the truth spilled. You were a “terrible lay” and he only tolerated you out of pity. In fact, if it weren’t for him, you probably would’ve killed yourself after Riley’s death, right?

It’s not Orion’s fault that he cheated on you. With his ex-fiance. And a co-worker. And… a married woman. Honestly, you should feel so lucky he chose you. So lucky, in fact, that he started throwing things at you. And yelling at you. At first you were frozen, overwhelmed by emotions and the fact that your relationship that you loved so much was founded on lies. The specifics are a blur, too painful to remember every detail. But at some point during that day, you packed what you could into your car and broke up with Orion. Left him right then and there at the apartment you two previously shared. You ended up staying with a close friend for awhile. It was meant to be temporary, but Sam didn’t have any complaints about hosting you.

Your thoughts about the past were interrupted and you were promptly brought back to the present by the sound of your phone going off. Fly Like An Eagle was playing and you immediately knew it was Sam Wilson. Good ol’ Sam. Thanks to your brother Riley, you had gotten to know Sam. You met Sam through the Department of Veterans Affairs when showing up to volunteer to help war vets with trying to integrate back into society. Sam was a bit of a tough love kind of guy but he was there for you when Riley didn’t come home and he was there for you during your breakup with Orion.

“Hey Sam. What’s up, birdbrain?”

“Ohhh, so it’s like that, is it? Where you at, songbird?”

“Avoiding your dumb face by sipping coffee at The Compass Cafe.”

“Yeah, well this dumb face is missing you down at the centre. Could use your help with today’s luncheon if you’re up for it.”

“Hmm…. Nah, I think I’ll mope here for a few more hours. Maybe they could use my broken heart for a new recipe.”

You were trying to be sarcastic, but Sam could read you well even over the phone. You heard him sigh and let out a soft chuckle. 

“I think they’ve got coffee darker than that, doubt they need your broken heart for any of it. How ‘bout you come down here and tell me about this whole Tinder thing you’re trying out? Then we can go out for burgers and watch TV til we pass out?”

A soft smile was brought to your lips at Sam’s offer. Always the good bro, just like Riley. Oh, he’d let you mope, but not for very long. And not without threats of taking you out on his morning jogs.

“Okay, okay fine. I’ll meet you there, but promise me no morning jogs? I’m okay, Sam, I promise. Just feeling a bit skeptical about the Tinder app and dating in general. Riley had it easy because women would just fawn all over him, but his weirdo sister with a plushie pile rarely gets guys to look twice at her.”

“Alright, Eeyore. Just get your butt down here or I’ll find a way to steal a pair of Falcon Wings to come get you myself.”

You laugh at Sam’s response and end the call, promising you’d be at the centre soon. Tossing your trash on the way out the door, you left the café and crossed the parking lot. Once in your car, you started playing your latest playlist - “☀Hope☀”. It was the playlist you listened to in order to boost your mood and keep your head out of the clouds. As the music started to play, you pulled out of your parking spot and headed out of the parking lot to head for the Veteran Supplement Support Center.

[foxxybenedict]

How It Feels To Abandon Yourself

I deactivated my twitter today.

Please, hold your applause. Allow me to pontificate a bit first, then you may shower me in praise for doing the bare minimum for my mental health.

When I first got onto tumblr in 2011, it was so incredibly freeing. I could share exactly the aesthetics I wanted to uplift. I could put my thoughts out there in formatted blog posts. I could share quips in the tags of posts I shared. It felt like I was in control of every aspect of my identity, my aspirations, I set up a queue schedule so my posts would be evenly spaced and I wouldn’t spam people’s feeds. I had such a handle of who I was and what I wanted and how I wanted to express it. 

oh shit what’s that oh no it’s the tumblr exodus of the 2010s

When I went to twitter, I had to delete most of my tweets and revamp the whole thing, because twitter wasn’t a place on the internet where you lived your life and shared it with people, back in 2015 twitter was where I went to depression post, shitpost, and stalk each person that was ever involved with team starkid. But when the exodus happened, I had to learn how to live my online life on twitter, not only that, but I was on twitter at the behest of someone who was once very important to me, and for years my identity, specifically on twitter, was tied to this person. So I never really felt like myself, I never felt the same sense of comfort in myself or my expression like I did on tumblr. But it’s where the zeitgeist was, and you just had to be there. And when I went there, I deleted my whole tumblr. I abandoned myself. I burned the most comprehensive record of who I was from 2011 to 2018. 

When I did this I had no idea that it would be like burning every journal I ever wrote, but worse, because I’ve never written a journal, so it’s actually the closest thing I’ve ever had to one. But I didn’t realize how devastating that is, until **dunn dunn** 

The Breakup

in 2021 my best friend, my father figure, my BDSM dominant, and far too many more “my”s made the correct assessment that our relationship had run it’s course, and it was time for it all to end. And then he deleted any archive of our correspondences so not even I could not access them. I dunno I never understood telegram but as far as I know, that shit is gone forever. And that broke me inside a bit. Not only was this relationship over, the entire chronological dialogue of the entire thing was eradicated. It felt like someone wrote you the most valuable stack of letters you hold dear and then snuck into your home and burned them. But worse because we never wrote letters it’s all in those chats and they’re just gone. This is the first time that I realized the impermanence of all of this is existentially horrifying. Things I have poured my hopes, my dreams, my desires, my fears, hell my fucking soul, things I have poured my fucking soul into, just don’t exist anymore. 

I always loved the scene from The Lord of the Rings where Bilbo uses his ring to dazzle his fellow hobbits once more, and taking the most self aggrandizing exit from the pleasant fakeness of hobbit life. What I am trying to say, that he did in fact have the charisma uniqueness nerve and talent. This fucking camp queen. Bilbo has successfully made his way back into Plato’s cave without getting killed but then heckles the people making shadows on the wall cause it’s so funny to him.

So how I am coping with abandoning myself after I know how much damage that can do to my future self? I’ll be honest, because it doesn’t feel like me anymore. And I feel like I’ve been holding on to twitter solely because it’s where my largest following on the internet is. I had 5556 followers on twitter when I deactivated my account 30 minutes ago. That level of reach, that level of influence, it’s hard to let go of. I want to hold tightly onto it and hope to maybe make something out of it in the future. But that was all a cope. I just didn’t want to relinquish the only power I felt like I had on twitter, and that power was a silly little number. But the tradeoff I didn’t want to acknowledge is that you belong to that following, and I got that following from being in the proximity of people I am no longer in the proximity of. It feels like I’m sitting in a college course I didn’t sign up for, but I am too terrified of admitting I’m in the wrong classroom to go get up and find the right one. 

So this leaves me sitting here thinking about the very real parts of myself that have been abandoned. The parts of me that I’ve given to people that have been forgotten, erased, taken for granted, or taken as something more than that it is. How many fragments of myself am I going to just allow to be impermanent? Can I even at this point forward be myself when so many parts of my self have been erased? Do I even try in the future to express myself, give parts of who I am to these cooperate entities vying for my attention, my AdSense, my data, in exchange for the feeling of permanence?   

It feels futile, to fragment who you are into these very real pieces, and leave them behind, hoping someone picks it up, tosses a like, makes a comment. It feels silly, it feels hopeless. Jonathan Larson spent decades of his life fighting a clock he himself antagonized because he felt like if he didn’t, it would consume him. I am almost 29 years old and I don’t even have a rough draft of a meticulously crafted grandiose unique perspective that leaves behind an idea of why I deserve to be remembered. 

Maybe it’s about time that I stop abandoning fragments. The issue is, it’s all I know. And a part of me I don’t want to give any credence to, secretly loves to ability to kill a version of me once every few years, and burn the evidence.

[oetscop]

anyway uhhhh im struggling to focus bc my neck hurts like fuck so im gonna talk abt max and dizzy. and like elaborate on the whole "theyre the same person" thing

so max is my truesona right? his name (maxamillion) actually has a personal meaning to me. my whole life ive fought with identity and ive always had this sort of scattered sense of self. a lot of that comes from childhood neglect and housing instability growing up. every time i move or something bad happens i feel like i get splintered off into another jagged piece of myself, and as life goes on the older pieces get eroded away until i cant even remember who that person was.

i dont want it to sound like DID or something, because its not. its very different. these "other people" never exist at the same time as one another or anything like that. sometimes i can kinda call back how i was at those times in a nostalgic imitation sort of way, but like. its still me? i guess? i dont know.

maxxy is kinda based off the sort of shameless open bleeding wound of a person i was at one time. i was loud and wasnt embarrassed by it. i was open with what i enjoyed. i was clingy but oblivious and sometimes unrealistic.

dizzy is sort of like the more "rational" side of myself. he thinks hes smarter than max because he's been hurt more. hes more familiar with rejection sensitive dysphoria and has been through the same sort of really bad relationship and amicable breakup i went through, as well as the fallout that caused my entire friend group to splinter. hes apprehensive and distant and refuses to trust anyone to an unreasonable degree, hence the quotations.

hes perpetually trying to knock max down a peg or snuff him out. he reminds him how annoying he is when hes loud, he constantly tells him that expressing any emotion about a situation is manipulative. a lot of his character comes from the song hope by roar (among others) and specifically the line "if your hearts upon your sleeve, amputate the arm." hes very motivated by revenge.

really he comes from a well intentioned place, but hes also aware that hes being harmful. he thinks its for the best.

and in his defense max isnt a good person either, not entirely. hes terrified of losing people, but instead of growing distant to avoid pain like dizzy, he becomes incredibly clingy. constantly disarming himself and asking what he would have to do to keep someone around. he has no sense of self and is willing to just drop everything for someone. even if they hurt him. hes also insecure and somehow also full of himself.

but like, they are also literally the same person. the same dog, i guess. but they can interact physically with each other. dizzy looks exactly like max, just with mirrored fur patterns and is more desaturated in color. his hair is also like....greasier. and matted. max has really soft hair but dizzy spends most of his time in bed or just at home so he doesnt take care of himself. sometimes max can convince him to let him brush it. they have a very codependent relationship with eachother. well, okay that makes it sound romantic. its more like a symbiosis sort of thing. parasitic perhaps. theyll kill eachother together but theyll die if theyre apart.

it actually started with like..giving max an A/B/NLM sorta thing (since i do that a lot actually! give ocs traits from a specific media i like a lot. one of my other sonas shrinks when hes upset like cassie from dragon tales) but it sorta just became what it is now. idk why?? i still sometimes draw max with a flower on his head tho lol. its hard not to involve that when hes my truesona and care and paul r like........the focal points of my entire identity and sense of self rn lol. but theyre also nothing like max so i scrapped that.

idk this makes liek no sense lololol. theres far more "versions" that i might flesh out in the future? but for now its just the two of em. hooty hoo

[angsty-omi]

tooru oikawa x reader

“i hope that one day i’ll be able to replace you the way you replaced me.”

it’s hard y’know?

hearing his squeaked sneakers and the click of her heels walking down the hallway. hand in hand, confidently striding past you. her strong perfume left a mark after her presence. smelling like coconut... tooru hates coconut. you remembered the time where you tried to switch up your shampoo and tooru immediately noticed when walking into your bedroom. hated it. made you re-shower and scrub extra hard to get that scent away. then the realization hit you like a train. he just hated it on you, but could bare it with her. he liked her so much better, that he could bare the scent he detests.

last week was the last time you called tooru oikawa yours.

after losing to karasuno, the team was in shambles. tears left and right. you waited for tooru to step out of the locker room and prepared to give him affirmations and affections. although, when he walked out there were a bunch of girls already hoarding him. you could almost laugh at the sight. these girls don’t know tooru like you do. they don’t know how he feels, acts, and taste. but you do. thus, you never worried or felt insecure around these fangirls. so, you just waited for tooru to come up to you. you watched him meticulously, as he was taking very long with a certain fan. if you weren’t paying enough attention, you wouldn’t have seen the girl slip her number into his pocket. he didn’t even notice her action, since she used excuses of why she had to touch his jacket. after the whole ordeal, he finally got to you. with you, he could let his guard down. the facade of him being a nice guy to all his fans were taking a toll on him. as he grabbed your hand and found somewhere secluded, he cried in your arms. you held him tight around his neck and your back started to get wet. soothing his back and whispering “i know baby,” were things other girls couldn’t do.

although, after this, tooru changed. you couldn’t figure out why. he started to become obnoxious and rude to kids who weren’t necessarily popular. the final straw was when he was acting this way with you. his girlfriend. the same girl that watched him breakdown on her lap the whole night. the same girl that he wouldn’t let out of his bed to get dressed.

you waited outside the gates to walk with tooru. at the entrance, you saw him with the girl that gave him her number. although tooru was being civil, she kept clinging on to him. viewing this, you felt a slight bubble of jealousy in your stomach. as he walked over to you, the girl immediately walked the other way. he handed you his hand to hold, but you weren’t having it.

“tooru, i don’t like that girl. she makes me feel uncomfortable.” you sternly said while walking.

him beside you, “y/n you’re overreacting. she’s just a friend.” tooru sighed like you always did this.

“do friends cling on your arm? or pinch your cheeks? or giggle at every single thing you do?”

“she’s not like that, i promise.”

“mhm... okay.”

you hear him murmur something under his breath.

“what was that?” you put your hand to your ear, dramatically.

“i said, you should be lucky to even be with me”

“what?”

tooru then rolls his eyes at you.

“did you hear what i said idiot? i said you should be lucky to be with me”

“how am i lucky? you think it’s lucky to only see you on weekends because you’re so consumed with volleyball? huh? is that what you think? and on top of that, seeing the whole female population flirting with you every single game?”

“exactly so you see these girls and you think you’re special?”

at this point, you couldn’t believe your ears, “umm yeah because i’m your girlfriend? i would think so?”

“and you think i couldn’t replace yo-,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, hoping that you didn’t just hear him.

oh but you did. loud and clearly. just then, you abruptly stop your walking. tears riling up your eyes.

“f-f-fine, if that’s what you think, then go ahead replace me. w-we’re done o-o-oikawa.” spewing his surname like he meant nothing to you. your back was facing him, but he knew. he knew you were crying. and yet, he didn’t seem to stop you nor apologize. in oikawa’s whole life, he never won at anything. he lost to a boy that was younger than him, more athletic, and overall a better setter. subconsciously, the only thing he could win was petty arguments like this one. but was it worth it? he’d soon find out weeks later.

in those days, you haven’t reached out to him, so he assumed you were over it and with his pride in the way, he didn’t want other students to know what really happened, so he decided to appear as the winner. the one who broke it off, the savant who moved past his ex and onto a new girl.

and that’s exactly why he did. though his outer appearance looked more happy, his insides were complete opposites. he hated the smell of coconut on her, or how compared to you, she was not funny. at all. she was bland and her humor was like speaking to a millennial on hump days. he couldn’t help but look over at you once in a while to see how you were dealing with the breakup. he couldn’t read you though, your face seemed drained out of pure tiredness, making you seem like an emotionless statue. during class, he noticed that your head hung low while tapping your pen against the table.

his new girl took notice of this, “tooru why do you keep looking at y/n?” she asked jealously.

as if he could not get anymore of a douche, his immediate reaction was, “y/n’s fucking pen tapping is so goddamn annoying, it’s fitting for her i mean look at her.”

you were sick of it. being walked on. being the butt of everyone’s joke. you were a ticking time bomb, and oh- you just exploded.

“well if i’m so goddamn annoying then maybe sob to your little whore the next time you lose a dumb shit of a game you call your livelihood, in which oh yeah! continues to remind you how you will always. be. just. second. best.”

the whole class erupted in laughter. your throat started to burn and his eyes widened in shock. you went too far and you knew it. you thought you would’ve felt good giving him a taste of his own medicine, but you felt guilt and pain. like his heart was yours, and you could feel it cracking.

“oikawa, y/n to the principal’s office now!” the teacher interjected.

as you both waited on the bench in front of the office, your principal decided not to call your parents, and let you both figure it out.

you spoke first, “listen.. for what it’s worth, i’m sorry. i’m sorry for saying all those rude things. i’m sorry for calling you second best. i’m sorry for belittling your passions. i’m sorry for not being a good girlfriend. i’m sorry for not being enough-” your voice started to get shake-y.

“god you just don’t shut up do you?” oikawa chuckled. you smiled a bit in return.

“y/n.. i don’t know where to start. no one has ever seen me so vulnerable, and you being there scared me. i didn’t deserve you, someone like kageyama did. you deserve a winner. i didn’t want to be someone you’d resent or find ‘too sensitive’ so i put myself first and for that i’m sorry. really sorry… and i miss you,” he hesitated for a second before continuing, “could you ever see us together again?”

you were speechless. so speechless you didn’t realize your hand meeting his face. your eyes widened in shock.

“i guess i deserved that.” he clenched his jaw.

“how dare you? how fucking dare you? sure i can forgive you, as a peer. but to start up what we have? what we had? you’re crazy. if you truly thought that i would what? think you’re ‘too sensitive’ then you don’t know me at all. safe to say if this how you react when shit hits the fan i don’t want to know what would’ve happened if we got married.”

his eyes lit up at the word ‘married’. what could’ve been if he’d just allow himself to be vulnerable and not have high standards for himself.

“i will always love you oikawa, but never in that way again. and for that, i’m sorry.” you got up, head held high with your back facing to him. specifically because tears were burning your cheeks. one more minute with him and you would’ve folded and taken him back.

[silv3rswirls]

Rockstar

No one requested this I just really want bad boy Jungkook to ruin my life.

Lord save me I love the whole vibe of this Jungkook.

Summary: At a time like this, the last place you expected to be was some seedy bar downtown, but here you were drinking shitty beer and making eyes with the live band’s drummer. 

Warnings: Female reader, dirty talk/degradation, public sex (y’all fuck in an alleyway), alcohol, smoking/marijuana use, unprotected sex, slight strength kink, hair pulling, slight breeding kink? (not sure if this can qualify as that)

Word count: 4k

When you and your boyfriend broke up, you had imagined yourself laying around at home and drowning your sorrows in take-out and sappy romance movies. That’s what you had planned at least, but your friends had other plans. They had come to your apartment with plans to go to some little bar downtown. A small underground place that had been the talk all around campus lately. They had cheap drinks, live music, and seemed to be the perfect party setting lately. You decided to go after they pestered you enough, encouraging that this is what you needed after the breakup.

It wasn’t that you hated going out to these kinds of things, you just weren’t much of a partier. Sure, you drank at times, but never really let yourself go like a lot of students did. You had never seen anything wrong with this, but apparently, your boyfriend had. He broke up with you and cited his biggest reason as being that you were just too boring to date. And he did it over text no less. This guy had been your high school boyfriend and the relationship had carried on into your college years, you really hadn’t thought you would break up at this point. You thought, maybe it was for the best. He seemed way more interested in spending his college years partying and hooking up anyways, but it didn’t stop the hurt you felt over the breakup.

You knew he was a bit of an asshole and maybe that’s what you had liked so much about him, but besides that, the two of you had been together for so long. He had been your first boyfriend and kiss, he had taken your virginity, the whole shebang. He had been your only boyfriend as well, so your experience with anyone else was next to nothing, and in a way it made you feel a bit nervous about getting back out there. 

But, your friends usually didn’t steer you the wrong way so you thought why not? Maybe going out would be fun like they said. You would be going to a bar single for the first time, exciting right?

Honestly, it wasn’t.

You were currently sitting at the bar alone while your friends had found others to distract them. You didn’t mind, just wished you weren’t the weirdo sitting alone like this. You were taking a break from dancing as your feet were beginning to hurt and the crowd left you a bit lightheaded. The bar hadn’t been what you envisioned when everyone told you about it. It was a small place, some kind of obscure dive bar or something. The walls were packed with signs and posters, neon lights illuminated them in color. The stage was towards the other end of the place, relatively small with lights shining onto the crowded- they were currently red, bathing the whole place in its hue. A few tables and chairs had been pushed more to the side, but a few people sat and talked, played cards, or snacked on the stale chips left out. Fans spun lazily above you, doing nothing in the way of cooling the stuffy place off. Smoke moved around the dance floor fluidly, mingled with the stench of alcohol and sweat as people danced and crowded at the stage in excitement. There was laughter and smiles all around the bar, some intoxicated and others conversing with vigor. There was a wall of muted bottles glittering behind the counter, stacked with dozens of things you hadn’t even heard of before. Some looked intriguing, but you were content with the admittedly watered-down and cheap beer. 

The bar may have been a little rundown, but it soaked in the ambiance of a night of rock music and mistakes. 

You held your head, nursing the small headache coming from the dozens of conversations being had over the bass of the live band- some group you had never heard of and couldn’t even remember their name. It was good music though, not necessarily what you thought you would be partying to tonight. They dominated the atmosphere as the young crowd, made mostly of university students like yourself you assumed. You took a bitter sip of your drink, not quite drunk, but feeling it enough to slip into your feelings. You wondered if your ex would find this boring or not. Maybe the fact that you were sitting alone instead of enjoying yourself was enough to prove you weren’t exactly the life of a party. If only your friends would come back, you thought before finishing your drink and hoping down from the bar. 

“Hey, come dance with us!”

A group of girls around your age called you to follow as they made their way back into the crowd. You thought for a moment, before smiling and tailing after them. One held your hand as you pushed your way through the crowd, muttering sorries you knew no one could hear as you bumped and pushed. They took you to the front of the crowd, laughing and giggling as they accepted you into their group without a thought. You couldn’t help but smile as well, looking up at the band as they played. It felt a little unreal to be so close to them, the music pounding in your ears and the lights blinding you and staining your whole being in a red hue. Music filled the air so easily, the sound reaching everyone in the bar. Some let go and listen while others continue chatting, but it speaks out to them all in some way. You didn’t know the words but sing anyway. You yelled, so loud and raw as you got lost in the feeling; the anger and upset you felt over your ex fueling your desire to let go and have fun. It felt right, that moment. Intense and freeing as the vibration of their playing made your head tingle and your body want to jump up and down with everyone else. 

As you let yourself get lost in the atmosphere your eyes drifted across the young men playing before you and you catch one of their eyes lingering on you and between the brief breaks between songs you spare him looks that are barely glances and it feels like he’s doing the same. By the time their set ends you feel some accidental bond lingering between your shared glances and disappointment drowns you when you realize it’s time he leaves. 

“I can’t believe this'' You mutter as you step outside into the cool night air. You couldn’t find a single sign of your friends, so you assume they left you behind. Maybe it was your fault spending your time at the front with a new group of girls, they probably hadn’t been able to find you. Checking your phone you found a few missed texts from them and sighed. They had been your ride back home, but it looked like you would be calling an uber instead. Pulling at the hem of your dress as the cold breeze nipped at your thighs, you walked down the street a bit in search of a bench or something you could sit at since the bar had kicked the remaining customers out.

You jumped slightly at the sudden flick of headlights turning on as you walked past the alleyway between the bar and some closed-down restaurant next to it. Squinting a bit you spotted the guys from the band loading the equipment up. “Looking for an autograph?” You mustered a nervous smile as one of them looked over at you, his eyes locking on yours as you had with the drummer on stage. You hadn’t gotten the best look at the drummer while he was performing, the lights had been blinding and you weren’t able to make any specific details out on him. But he looked similar enough.

“I mean, If you're offering one?” He matched your smile waltzing up to you with a Sharpie in hand. He scanned you up and down quickly before telling you to give him your arm, so you did and shuddered at the feeling of the sharpie dragging across your skin. You inspected the autograph, just two letters scribbled fancily on your forearm. “JK?” you asked.

“Jungkook actually, and you are?”

“Y/n” you replied, looking up from his writing.

“So Y/n, how does it feel to have such a famous rockstar’s autograph?” You laughed, “you don’t seem all that famous just yet.”

Jungkook simply smiled and went on, “you know, I saw you making eyes at me from the crowd.”

“Oh really?” You breathed, feeling a bit nervous as he brought it up.

He hummed, “It was hard to make out, but with how hard you were staring I could tell.” He teased.

“Lucky for you then.” You shivered as another cool wind blew through the alley attacked your exposed skin. Jungkook seemed to notice because he turned to look at his bandmates before offering to let you come inside with him. You chewed the inside of your cheek, normally you would never even of gotten so far into a conversation with a guy like this. Maybe it was the shitty beer or the high of the show, but you felt a bit daring and accepted. You and Jungkook sat down on the old, scratched-up leather sofa found in the back of the bar. It seemed the other members badly packed up most of their belongings, as one of them ran around the room grabbing what was left. “Shouldn’t you help?” You wondered aloud and Jungkook only shrugged as he handed you a beer.

“They’re fine, right Jimin?” The member looked over at you two, taking in your presence for a second before smiling.

“Of course, we’re done here. See you later Jungkook.” He threw a wink in your direction before grabbing the last bag and hurrying out. 

“Isn’t that your ride home?” You fiddled with your beer bottle as Jungkook opened his up and moved to take yours and do the same. 

“I have my own. Don’t worry so much Y/n.” You nodded and looked around the small back room. Pressed on the other side of the room were some boxes and storage space, a rack with some old clothing, and a small television set up on a counter that ran along the wall. There was a table riddled with empty and half drank bottles and glasses, from the band you presumed. The back door was cracked open with a brick, so the cold draft still hit you. The place smelled old and dusty, liquor lingering in the air as you listened to the shuffle of staff cleaning up in the front. You and Jungkook talked for a bit, mainly about the show and his band and you told him a little about yourself. How you were in university across town and were just trying to get out with some friends who ended up leaving you behind. At first, you hadn’t been sure how hanging out with him would go, unsure if you had enough in common to talk, but it turned out to be easy. Jungkook, despite all the tattoos and strong build, seemed pretty nice. Of course, deep down you kept yourself aware of why you were here. You were pretty positive that Jungkook hadn’t asked you to stay behind with him just to talk, there had to be other intentions. Hoping for a hookup you assumed and while you weren’t sure what exactly you were doing here, it felt oddly right.

“So, your boyfriend didn’t care that you came to such a shitty bar alone?” You watched Jungkook as he stood up and walked to the door. He kicked the brick out of place and opened it all the way, sitting down in the doorframe.

“I don’t have a boyfriend to be mad at me” you sighed, “broke up like a month ago.” 

“Seriously?” He looked back at you, brushing his dark locks away. “What dumbass would break up with you?” You laughed and got up to join him in the doorway, watching as he fiddled with something in his hands as you sat down. He pulled a lighter out and lit the blunt in hand, looking over at you before offering. “Want a hit?”

You stared at him for a second before smiling, “you first.” He complied, bringing it to his lips and inhaling. He glanced at you as he did so, holding it out for you next. You held his wrist to keep him from shaking against the cold and leaned to take a hit for yourself.

“You’ve never done this” he laughed, watching you sputter and cough, your face scrunching up at the unfamiliarity. 

“Kind of?” You laughed, swatting at him as he blew smoke into your face.

“So tell me about him.”

“What?” “Your ex, tell me about him. He break your heart?” You scoffed, looked up at the building that towered above the two of you and to the night sky. Jungkook kept up smoking beside you, following your gaze lazily as he waited for your response. The truth was; you weren’t sure if you were heartbroken or not. The two of you had been distant for a while before breaking up, but there was still a certain sadness that sat within you. He was your first love and maybe if he had ended things sooner you’d be more upset. You were upset, but you felt more anger towards him than anything. 

“He, uh- he broke up with me because he thought I was too boring.” You laughed. “He was always more of a party animal, you know? I don’t even know how he managed to make me fall for him way back when...you know he did it over text?” 

“Shit, over text?” He raised his brows at you, a small grin curving his lips. “You must’ve been pissed.” He coughed through another hit. “So he thinks you’re boring? You don’t seem it. You should’ve seen yourself out there earlier, I thought you were wasted or something” he joked.

“Well, I don’t normally do this kind of thing. It was a last-minute decision to come.” You explained, taking a sip of your beer.

“I’m glad you did” Jungkook grabbed your hand to bring the bottle to his lips for a long swig. “You’re pretty cool.” You smiled, a bit taken back by the compliment. Jungkook held eye contact with you for a moment before his eyes drifted down to your lips and you can tell that he’s thinking about moving in closer, so you take the initiative and do it yourself. He’s just centimeters away from kissing you, his breath hitting your face, a mix of cologne, alcohol, and smoke hitting you. Before you know it his lips are on yours, cold and a bit rough upon touch. You can feel a swarm of butterflies eat at your stomach as you try to relax in his hold. His kiss is not at all the same as the ones you shared with your ex, it wasn’t inspired or felt like a chore; it was hot and a bit sloppily and sparks a new feeling of passion inside you.

Jungkook’s arm found its way around your waist, tugging your body closer to his while the other held the side of your face. His tongue finds its way inside your mouth and you feel a hand wander down to your thigh, resting a bit under the bottom of your dress as his chilled hands groped and pinched your flesh. Soon things begin to get more heated and you find yourself pulled into his lap while he kisses and sucks at your neck. You jump a little when you feel his hand slide down your waist and grab your ass. He smiles into your neck, breaking away to look at you. Your lips were shiny and red from the make out, your neck in a similar fashion as fresh hickies were making their mark. He looks at you intently, a desire behind his eyes that felt like had been forever since you experienced it. He’s practically undressing you with his eyes when he asks, “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you nod immediately, living off the rush of hooking up with him- with anyone in so long. Jungkook grins and stands the both of you up, backing you against the wall and trapping you in another heated make-out session as his hands begin to wander over your body. Your back arches as he brushes over your chest, shuddering as he cups your breasts and squeezes firmly. His leg slips between your thighs, pressing against your pussy and rubbing the tiniest bit. You shifted under him, your face flushed as you felt yourself growing more and more worked up.

It felt like forever Jungkook continued playing and teasing you, but soon you felt his fingertips brush under your dress, fingers hooking around your panties and pulling them down. You reached to bunch your dress up farther for him, shivering as the cold air hit your sensitive skin. He squeezed your plush thighs, one hand slipping between your legs to touch you. “Cold?” He asked, amused as you squirmed under his touch, his fingers dragging up and down your slit a few times as he looked down at you, his eyes locked on yours as you merely shuddered and wiggled under him. His breath was hot against your skin as he went back to kiss at your neck, an air of neediness around the both of you as you moved your hips against his hand’s movements, hoping for some more attention rather than teasing. Jungkook’s forehead rested against your shoulder as he looked down at you, his face starting to flush in excitement as hard-on pressed against his jeans. Slowly he let two fingers dip into your pussy, taking in the feeling of you squirming and tensing slightly around him. You grabbed at his arm, panting and whimpering as he attacked your clit, rolling the bud between his fingers and pushing you to cum.

Feeling a bit impatient, Jungkook pulls away and ignores your whiny complaints. “Want me to fuck you?” He asks, not waiting for your answer as he works his jeans undone. “Turn around” he urges and you do so, your skin pressed against the rough of the bricks, leaving you to wince slightly, but ignore it as you feel his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. You glance back at him, anticipation clear on your face until you feel the head of his dick press against your thigh before he adjusts himself to press into you. You gasp, a small groan hanging in your throat as he slowly pushes in. He takes in the sight of you bent over for him, your thighs shaking and muscles tensing under his touch. “Fuck, that’s it,” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind you, teasing as the edges of his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. You can feel his body over yours big and strong as he grips your hips tight, effortless moving you to meet his thrusts.

“J-Jungkook” You moan, writhing in pleasure and slight disbelief you were actually fucking a guy you just met. Your head turned at the sound of people walking by on the street. Suddenly struck with panic and the realization you were letting him fuck you in an alleyway. “There’s people-”

“Shh” Jungkook smirked, “better be quiet unless you want someone to hear you getting fucked.” 

“But-” you gasped as he thrust into you again, snapping his hips rough and picking the pace up. You bit your bottom lip, trying to hold in the moans threatening to spill out of you. 

“Don’t want anyone to see what a needy slut you are?” You dropped your head with a shake, whimpering as he reached to find your clit again, rubbing circles around your hardened nub. “You’re not doing a very good job” he commented

“Jungkook,” you whisper, your voice shaking before you let out a sudden, loud moan. It is almost hard for you to recognize yourself due to the desperation laced in your tone, need clouding your mind as you ate up the pleasure he was giving you. It felt like it had been months since the last time you really got off and despite the somewhat unorthodox situation, you were reveling in just how much it turned you on. “Only w-want you to see how much of a slut I am-” Your words fell off towards the end, drowned in your whines.

Jungkook eats up your words, grunting and groaning quietly to himself as he fucked into you. ���Quiet, baby.” he mocks with a tease in his voice. You buried your face into your arms, clenching around Jungkook as you came, your stomach tensing up and moans muffled. “You’re so hot” Jungkook groaned, his hand running up your back and into your hair, fingers lacing themselves in your locks before tugging your face up so you were looking up. You squealed as he kept thrusting into you, shaking at how sensitive you felt. “I didn’t think you’d be so easy,” he commented, “but look at you, bent over all pretty for me.” Jungkooks voice was growing shaky, nearing his orgasm as he let go of your hair. “Where should I cum baby?”

“You can inside if you want” you breathed, breathless as you felt another orgasm nearing. 

“Shit, really?” You could hear the grin in his tone as he pounded into you.

“I’m on the pill.” You moaned,  a shaky please falling from your lips.

“Don’t worry baby,” he grunts “gonna fill you up.” You let out one last moan as Jungkook’s grip tightens on your hips and he stills his movements, shooting his load into you as he closes his eyes with a soft moan. You pant, taking in the feeling of his cum inside you, leaving you a dripping mess when he pulls out. He stands over you for a moment, catching his breath and admiring his work. “Fuck, so pretty,” you hear him murmur.

Eventually, the two of you find your way back inside, finding the restroom to clean up and come down from the romp you just had. Jungkook thought quiet helps you clean up and fix your dress. You take a few minutes to sit down and relax, you were feeling tired from the long night you had and you were sure Jungkook must’ve been as well since he had performed on stage as well. “Let me give you a ride home?” He turns to you as you gulp down some water.

“Well, it’s the least you can do, right?” You tease and Jungkook just smiles and leads you back outside. “Of course you have a motorcycle” you snorted, laughing in slight disbelief as he joined you.

“What else?” He asked, waiting for you to get the situation and wrap your arms around him. It was cold, but you closed your eyes as he drove, taking in the chill of fresh air and the soft rustle of the city around you. He took you home, dropping you off in front of your complex. He stopped you before you could leave, pulling out the sharpie and handing it to you. “Give me your number” he urged, letting you scribble it down on his hand.

“Call me sometime?”

He merely grinned with a lazy shrug, “Maybe.”

You watched him ride off from inside the lobby, chewing your lip as you went over the events of the night. “Whose boring now?” You laughed to yourself, the sadness your ex had left long forgotten. 

You weren’t sure if Jungkook would call, but sure hoped he would.

[therealvinelle]

How do you believe Carlisle feels about Esme? How would their break up go? Would he ever cheat on her? I mean like emotionally?

He loves her.

I don’t doubt that his feelings for Esme are genuine, that he respects and cherishes her and wishes to spend his life with her. Esme, too, worships the man.

My complete lack of faith in this ship comes from the fact that they’re together for the wrong reasons and not compatible. 

The Bad Beginning

Carlisle had spent centuries searching for likeminded, he never did. In the end he succumbs and starts creating his own, first Edward and then Esme, and to his joy they both agree to do the diet.

Esme’s transformation was entirely an impulse on his end. He saw this delightful, vivacious young woman he’d known ten years ago lie broken and dying in the morgue, a Jane Doe declared dead, she was all too easy to steal. She was too far gone for him to have time to think it over, and so he went «alright let’s do this. I imagine it seemed rather like God had sent her to that morgue specifically. We learn from Midnight Sun that romance wasn’t on his mind at all (even if it was, that wouldn’t make their marriage more functional) and he expected nothing of her. He bit her because he didn’t want Esme Platt to die.

Esme, of course, wakes up into this new life under surreal, heavenly circumstances. Her child is still dead - but here is the mythic, pedestaled Dr. Cullen, now her savior and more wonderful than ever. To back myself up with the books:

Esme had already been in love with Carlisle—much to his shock—but not through any mystical, magical means. She’d met Carlisle as a girl and, drawn to his gentleness, wit, and otherworldly beauty, formed an attachment that had haunted her for the rest of her human years. Life had not been kind to Esme, and so it was not surprising that this golden memory of a good man had never been supplanted in her heart. After the burning torment of transformation, when she’d awakened to the face of her long-cherished dream, her affections were entirely his. (Midnight Sun, chapter Bloodtype)

Carlisle, on his end, hadn’t had the idea at all until Edward said “Dude, she’s into you, go for it.”

I’d been on hand to caution Carlisle about her unforeseen reaction. He’d expected that she would be shocked by her transformation, traumatized by the pain, horrified by what she’d become, much as I had been. He’d expected to have to explain and apologize, to soothe and to atone. He knew there was a good chance that she would have preferred death, that she would despise him for the choice made without her knowledge or consent. So the fact that she had been immediately prepared to join this life—not really the life, but to join him—was not something he was ready for.

He’d never seen himself as a possible object of romantic love before that moment. It seemed contrary to what he was—a vampire, a monster. The knowledge I gave him changed the way he looked at Esme, the way he looked at himself.

More than that, it was very a powerful thing, choosing to save someone. It was not a decision any sane individual made lightly. (sic)

I’m not entirely void of authorial intent - I get that this was supposed to be romcom where the cute nerdy guy has no idea the girl is interested. 

But, what I see is that after centuries of being alone, never finding anybody who shared his values, Carlisle finally has these two people who share his ideals, the only two in the world. He’s had countless friends, but it never worked out because of that damn diet. But, now he has these two people, and one of them is a beautiful, kind, wonderful woman who’s in love with him.

I imagine falling for Esme was easy. It was just so perfect, simply by being Carlisle Cullen he could make her happier than any other man, and given their shared diet, he wanted her by his side always, just as he did Edward. And this was it for him, really, to Carlisle Cullen Esme might as well be the only woman in the world because she’s the only one who'll share his lifestyle. He also felt responsible for her.

I don’t at all doubt their sincerity or affection for one another.

However, they did not fall for each other for each other’s sakes. Esme fell for the ideal since childhood, and Carlisle fell because she was perfect. Stick them in an AU and it won’t happen.

The Slippery Slope

Where they run into trouble is firstly that Esme doesn’t share these ideals, nor value human life for its own sake. Now, I’m not asking her to be a saint - but over the course of these books we had some lapses that I find pretty damning. 

She wanted Edward back in Forks, when this would almost certainly mean the death of Bella Swan, simply because to Esme having Edward nearby > a person’s life. This wasn’t the case for Carlisle, he made it extremely clear he wanted Edward to leave.

During the “Kill Bella?” vote, she was in favor of whatever meant Edward would stay.

Carlisle, having failed to get anywhere with talking sense into Edward, sends him home to his mother for an intervention. What happens next is that Esme gives Edward her blessing to eat the delicious girl if he wants to. Now, we can’t know specifically the talk Carlisle and Esme had before this, but I can’t imagine it was this. Also, damn, what a miscommunication.

Esme simply doesn’t have a problem with the deaths of individual humans, and she will put her loved ones above all other things, even if it’s a minor inconvenience. Keeping Bella alive only becomes her priority after Edward makes it clear he wants this.

Now, Carlisle’s standards have been worn down over the centuries, he just wants his family to try not to eat people on purpose, that’s how low the bar is. Tragically for his marriage, Esme is stumbling over said bar.

The further trouble they run into is that I don’t think they’re very compatible people.

Esme means well, but she’s peculiar, to put it extremely nicely. Her ambition in life is to LARP the human life, right down to being a master chef of something her species can’t eat, which could be sweet if she did other things. She doesn’t, the closest she gets is designing homes for her family. There’s being single-minded, and then there’s Esme, who appears to have honed herself into someone who exists only to be the housewife.

This leads to bizarre behavior - for instance in Midnight Sun when Edward has realized he’s in love, he sits around laughing to himself like a lunatic while playing the piano. Something happens with Rosalie, who runs out of the house in humiliation. Esme, responding to all this, gives her infamous “the best and brightest of us all” pep talk.

It’s just such a weird scene, even accounting for the inhumanity of Twilight vampires this is weird.

Mostly, thought, it is Esme’s interests and desires in life that I find so at odds with Carlisle’s. She wants to be an improved human, living the shinier, better, life without actually embracing the inhumanity of vampirism, while Carlisle is doing the human thing because he wants to be a doctor and save lives. Before that, he was travelling the world, living with normal vampires, using his eternity to study and pursue meaning in life. Now, they end up in the same place, with similar goals - wanting to blend in with humans - but the motivation is the polar opposite.

Which in turn means that as the world turns and their lives inevitably change, the way they live will have to change. This will spell trouble.

There’s also me having a strong suspicion these two don’t have much of a physical relationship, if any. Meyer specifically referred to their relationship as spiritual, and that fits the vibe we get from them in the books. Quite notably, Rosalie and Emmett were impossible to be around when they were newlyweds, while Carlisle and Esme weren’t a problem at all. 

Not to mention what Esme longed for all those years was very much an ideal of a man, which to me doesn’t immediately point to a very physical attraction.

The Penultimate Peril

Would he cheat on her, you ask. Answer is yes, they’re both cheating emotionally with Edward. No. 

He’s with her because he wants to be, and feels responsible for her. More, developing the kinds of feelings necessary for an emotional affair isn’t really on the table for him, since everyone else in the world is either a. one of his kids or the Denali, b. an unrepentant man-eating demon. So, unless Tanya’s feeling frisky, Carlisle doesn’t have anybody to cheat with.

(I’m here defining an emotional affair, which as I understand it is a bit hard to define, as a romantic, but non-physical entanglement. The cheating party has to know their partner wouldn’t be cool with it for it to count in my eyes.)

As for physically cheating on her, nope. God no, not ever. Unless something really convoluted like the plot of Blue Moon unfolded, but that’s really more a case of Esme pimping out her husband to her daughter-in-law, so everyone’s to blame here.

The end

I think the breakup can happen in any number of ways, but I think either way it will be sudden. 

These two aren’t going to go “you know, I think we’ve grown apart” because Esme would never acknowledge that nevermind walk up to Carlisle and say it, and if Carlisle realized things aren’t working he’d still want to stick it out for her sake.

I think it’ll be sudden, it’ll happen as the immovable object that is them is hit by an unstoppable force. One will go someplace the other can’t follow. Maybe when the Cullen coven splits down the middle, and they’re on each their own side of the chasm, or maybe some other cause entirely.

It’ll devastate them both, but given the people these two are, I think it’s inevitable.

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Hi Hi!!!! So I've been following your account for a little while now and I love every single comedy bomb you drop on what you write so I was wondering....

How would the boys react to their S/O who is usually reserved when at the lair, doing a full 180 when at April's? Like they could be April's roommate or something?....

Like crackhead energy, dishing out memes and vines and literally having a duel with Casey about leftovers in the fridge?... Yeah I know it's very specific 💀

I don't know.....the idea just popped into my head but I lack the creativity and comedy skills for that...so I was wondering if you could do something with this?.....

It's totally fine, if not 😁😁

This is... 100% me. I love this and I'm gonna pour my soul into it. Also I have started mentally referring to these as comedy bombs and I refuse to stop.

Also, I hope you don't mind that I wrote these in oneshot form instead of bullet points. It just made more sense for my brain.

TMNT Oneshots

The boys with a partner whose reserved at the lair but an absolute crack gremlin at home 🤣

Donatello

Donnie may have been a man of science, all logic and facts and numbers and things. But he absolutely believed that everyone had three separate faces, you were direct proof of that theory. While the purple terrapin had known you for nearly a year you’d only started dating a month ago and it shocked him that he was still uncovering new things about you. He loved it, sure, but it had a tendency to give him figurative whiplash.

He’d always known you to be calm and collected, maybe even a bit shy. He swore you’d explode if more than one person tried to talk to you at the same time. So it wasn’t an over exaggeration for him to say that your behavior at home nearly made him break his neck.

He was only there to help April fix a bug in her laptop and to confirm your next date, he was excited to see you since you’d had no contact in person for a week because of your schedules. Just lots of phone calls and exchanged text messages. You both missed each other like crazy and your roommate had neglected to inform you that your boyfriend was coming over.

Hers was already there and he was driving you up the wall, you’d never actually thought about committing a murder but Casey was pushing you very close to the edge of snapping. And he might as well have crane-kicked you off your cliff of patience and into the rushing river of “you little fucking shit I’m gonna piss on your grave” below. You hadn’t even heard Donnie come in through the window much less his conversation with April over her computer.

All you knew was that Casey had come parading into your room like a tyrant eating the leftovers in the fridge that you had specifically put your name on. That did it. Your eyes had skimmed over the top of your textbook to meet the asshole in front of you.

“Casey?”

He couldn’t speak through the mouthful he was trying to chew and grunted in pathetic response.

“Is that my cheeseburger?”

You’d never seen a living person imitate a pug’s facial structure so well, the man’s eyes bugged out of his head and he tossed the takeout box on your desk before turning and bolting out of your room. You followed about two steps behind with a bottle of shampoo in your hand. No, you weren’t entirely sure where you’d grabbed it from, all you knew was that it was your weapon. And it quickly became a very messy problem when it missed your target (Casey’s head) and slammed into the wall, exploding on impact.

You didn’t think you’d thrown it that hard.

“April April help help help helpppppppppppppp-'' The two on the couch had looked up during the chase throughout the apartment, Donnie was mostly curious at what Casey was screaming about. Not a lot usually made the guy make that noise. He was then distracted by April grabbing the laptop and passing it to him, she then clambered over his legs to sit behind him.

“YOU UGLY ASS CROISSANT! FUCKING PANINI HEAD- IT HAD MY NAME ON IT YOU DAFT AVACADO!”

Your boyfriend almost went vertical upon watching you tackle Casey to the floor and knee him in the groin. You shook the terrified man under you and slammed him a little harder into the rug.

“Touch my shit again and I’m gonna make the beaches of Normandy look like a goddamn family vacation.”

Then you climbed off of him and stood, brushing your disheveled t-shirt off with a huff. Donnie caught your attention and you raised your head to grin excitedly at him.

“Hi Dove! April didn’t tell me you were coming over,” you practically skipped over to the couch to peck him on the cheek, “I missed ya, are we still on for Saturday?”

He nodded in complete shock, his gaze flitting from you to Casey, who was still wheezing on the floor and clutching his dick.

“Uhhh yeah! Yeah, yep, Still good for Saturday. Uhm, completely unrelated question, where the hell did you learn to grapple like that?”

You shrugged absentmindedly, already walking to the hall closet to grab cleaning supplies for the puddle of shampoo in the walkway.

“Just kinda picked it up I guess? I’ve watched you guys train enough.”

Leonardo

See, Leo had always known that you were hiding something from him. Be it your true personality or some deep dark secret. He wasn’t really in a rush to find out, you’d tell him when you were ready. The leader enjoyed your quiet disposition anyways, you gave good advice and liked to meditate with him, what more could he ask for? What more could he want?

Well, maybe if you got along better with his family, although he supposed that wasn’t your fault, you always had been a bit shy. Even six months into your relationship with him, Leo only hoped that you’d warm up to his brothers eventually. You seemed to do alright with Splinter, that was a plus for the situation. It wasn’t that you were mean or impolite to the others, you were just… avoidant. Distant, quiet, whatever word you wanted to use. You just didn’t seem comfortable at the lair.

He was excited that April had asked to host a game night though, maybe you’d come out of your shell (haha, see what I did there?) and socialize, even for a little bit. They’d all shown up a few minutes early to make sure April didn’t need help with anything, she’d assured them that everything was handled and made sure to inform Leo that you would be back shortly with Casey from your snack run. Mikey had joked that you’d ditched the get together to avoid them but they all knew it ran the possibility of not being a joke.

You unlocked the door and held it open so Casey could get inside without tripping himself before entering yourself and kicking your shoes off. Leo looked up to meet your eyes and you sent him a wild grin, your entire face lit up with amusement.

“Hi babes! Are you ready to get your ass kicked at Monopoly?”

All the poor turtle could do was nod.

“Good. I did grab drinks by the way, April there should be a mixer in the cooler bag, Donnie there’s some of that lemon lime stuff that you said you wanted to try, Mikey, orange crush as usual, Raph I tried to go for Dr. Pepper but they were out so I figured that root beer was a safe second. And Leo they had a new boba flavor that you haven’t had yet so I grabbed one. If you don’t like it then you can have mine, I just have the peach royal.”

Beverages were tossed and they were lucky that their surprise didn’t throw off their catching skills. You and April shared a quick word in the kitchen as you took your coat off and ran a hand through your hair.

After some arguments team captains were decided and Donnie nearly had a heart attack when you picked him instead of Leo or either of your friends. He even went so far as to point at himself to make sure you weren’t joking. You declared that while you loved your boyfriend his morals were too strong to be competitive, Donnie’s were not, he said so himself.

They were all surprised that you’d remembered that conversation.

It wasn’t until halfway through the game that things started getting heated, you and Mikey were nearly jumping across the table at each other. And it visibly took all of your strength to not burst out laughing when he started yelling.

"YOU KNOW WHAT? THIS IS CHEATING! YOU'RE CHEATING! GET ON TOP OF THE FRIDGE!"

April and Casey were snorting into their arms as you got to your feet and walked towards the kitchen, making a poor attempt at climbing the appliance.

"THIS HOUSE IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!"

Raphael

Raph had always been under the impression that you were never really 100% yourself around him, he knew for a fact that you weren’t when you stayed over. He’d never seen someone so aggressively avoid someone, except himself of course. You were his partner of almost a year and it seemed like you were never going to let your true self shine. However you did seem to lighten up when you were alone with him, he supposed that was normal, but you may as well have been a pair of old earbuds that only work when you held them a certain way at the lair.

He honestly hadn’t expected that to change tonight, not given the text that Casey had sent him informing him of April’s recent breakup with whatever guy she’d been dating. So when he climbed in through the window and saw both you and Casey sitting on the floor in front of the bathroom he really didn’t think that the words out of your mouth would be-

“April you’ve got another twenty minutes of this then I’m ripping the door off the hinges!”

Casey shot you a look and you shrugged nonchalantly before getting to your feet and walking over to your confused boyfriend.

“Hey, sorry about this. Casey only texted you as a last resort if he needed someone to stop me from tearing the door off.”

Raph found that peculiar, “Uh, couldn’t he do it himself?”

The man in question looked up from his spot on the floor.

“Nah dude, they’re crazy. Last time I tried stopping them from doing something they nearly knocked my damn tooth out while screaming, and I quote, “If you put your hands on me I’m gonna fucking rip your face off” and quite frankly I don’t have the balls to test that.”

“No no dude, that’s valid. I wouldn’t either. Babe, why are you so-”

You raised an eyebrow at him over a glass of water, “Violent? I’m not Raph. These two just have little bitch feelings.”

He found it hard not to laugh at that and fifteen minutes later when you left his side to approach the door again it sent him reeling.

“This shit’s temporary April. You’ve got nice teeth and a fat ass, stuff your feelings down!”

Michelangelo

There would never be a time where Mikey wasn’t a prankster with you, it was just simply non-negotiable. You were cool with that and he was aware, he was also aware that no pranks were to be pulled at the lair. So he’d reign it in while you visited, just for a short while. But you’d never said anything about the apartment and Mikey was a creature of opportunity.

Unfortunately Leo talked him out of it and forced him not to pull anything while they visited. The leader was already on edge so when he walked in with the others following closely behind you were the first person to see him. Your eyes caught Mikey’s instantly and you might as well have been telepathic at that moment. But you took one look at Leo’s solid, angry face and seized your moment.

They weren’t at all ready for the scream.

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ DOG BITCH!”

And they also weren’t ready for Mikey’s response of, “It don’t bite.”

And Leo was not ready for the pillow that got whipped at his face at incredibly high speed.

“YES IT DO-”

So when Leo finally realized that they were yelling at him his mood did not improve at all and in fact declined sharply into a pit of “oh fuck”. And that was how you ended up on Mikey’s shoulder getting dragged away from any sort of repercussion for your actions.

These got a little short near the end but I hope you like 'em and I hope I was able to capture what you had in mind! 😁

-Mars 🌠

[seongbinws]

hi everyone and sorry for the slight delay on the intro post! thank you for all the welcomes i’ve gotten so far and i’ll be reaching out for plots and everything shortly after i get this up!!

u ever get absolutely steamrolled by a muse and have to find a place to put them? that’s what happened to me with seongbin here... so i’m joining wishing stars for the first time so i can let him live the life he absolutely DEMANDED of me!

i’ll put a tl;dr version of his info under the cut (and a few plot/relationship ideas as well) but in the meantime, his profile and career pages are already up for your reading pleasure!

so a bit of a tl;dr summary of one mr. hwang seongbin:

basically, he grew up somewhat spoiled in the sense that he’s never had to work hard for anything unless he really wanted to. only child, received lots of love and attention and support for whatever hobby or interest he had. just happened that he had an aunt who lived in los angeles, california that he went to live with during middle school (his choice, he wanted an adventure) and he fell in love with hip hop and rap music, started to dance and rap, and then his aunt introduced the idea of being a singer in korea to him and he was all in on that.

he’s actually a very talented guy! and quite dedicated to his craft, but fortunately or unfortunately (depending on your perspective), it’s always come easy to him and never felt like hard work (maybe because he was enjoying it too much and never had to struggle or suffer for it). so he’s got this idea in his head that he’s just naturally better or more talented than everyone else.

probably didn’t help that he appeared on high school rapper in 2018 and made it to the finals despite having very little competitive or tv experience and was signed to yuseong ent. shortly after. he was a little bitter he didn’t win first prize, but when he was almost immediately put into a debut lineup with phoenix, he quickly forgot about that.

phoenix’s main rapper and lead dancer since their debut in 2018! depending on how tolerant your muse is, he might not be the easiest guy to get along with. he’s not very good at hiding the fact that he’s pretty cocky and full of himself and can be a bit patronizing because of that. “what do you mean you’re struggling with this choreography? it’s easy, see? *dances (almost) flawlessly*”, that sort of attitude. he’ll help his teammates but he’ll act exasperated about it the whole time and never lets anyone forget that he only trained for three months before he was considered debut-ready; i don’t think he’s ever said it outright, but he’s probably implied that that makes him better than his members.

he’s not a bad guy, but he’s not the nicest either, as you might be able to tell. he’s fun, has a good sense of humor, and there’s really nothing to complain about as far as his work ethic goes. but he’s not exactly.... likable.... to some people.......

also was part of D4NC3RB01 with cha bomin, but was super flaky and unreliable since most of his time with the group he was either on high school rapper or training at yuseong, both of which he prioritized over a little dance crew with friends.

some plot/thread/relationship ideas!!

would love to see him with some ex plots... maybe it was a very short-lived fling, maybe your muse realized that he’s more in love with himself than he was with your muse. this would take a bit of plotting to figure out specifics, but i think it’d be interesting to explore: a) seongbin’s selfish side where he really only used your muse for attention and feels no guilt/regret about the breakup or b) someone that seongbin actually really liked but screwed it up by being... himself.......  c) messy exes are also always fun and as much as i don’t condone his behavior he’s not above using others for attention/validation

newer idols/trainees in yuseong who might’ve been signed around the same time with even though he debuted so much sooner than the rest of them. maybe could be a rivalry plot? he’d absolutely hold it over someone’s head that he’s “so much better” than them for what a quick and easy path to debut he had. alternatively, someone who isn’t bothered by his attitude (or acknowledges it) that can just be a friend who tries to keep his ego in check?

 ALSO newer idols/trainees who were signed after phoenix’s debut who might’ve been a fan of seongbin... you know what they say about never meeting your idols.... maybe your muse was very quickly disappointed by his off-stage attitude (being cocky and confident makes for great entertainment on-screen but is so annoying off-screen) OR is still under the illusion that seongbin is a good person :’)

another muse who’s better at something than seongbin is. could be almost anything: he’s not a strong actor, a decent singer but not the best, better at a certain sport, certain instrument, anything. hell, it could be the fact that your tiktok got more likes than his or something equally petty or inconsequential. he hates the fact that he’s second place (or lower) in anything. could either be a friendly rivalry where your muse is actively helping him improve in whatever skill they have, or a less friendly relationship.

someone older/more senior than seongbin who actively tries to warn him about his behavior, rein it in, and maybe act like a mentor figure. seongbin’s not going to be an easy one to teach to behave (especially since he hasn’t gotten in any significant trouble so far), but you haven’t given up on him yet! someone’s gotta save this kid from himself.

[lunarmessenger]

May I request headcanons for the RFA + V & Saeran as yanderes? Also, I feel like your work is really underrated, and I wanted you to know that I love you and your writing so much! I hope you have a wonderful day/night :)

YANDERE RFA, V + SAERAN

warnings: mentions of violence and death.

of course you can sweetie! thank u for feeding my yandere obsession mMF YES. Oh my gosh thank you???? I’m so glad that you enjoy my writing!!! T_T that means so so much to me, and I hope you’re enjoying a beautiful day/night as well! this ended up being a little long sorry HAHAHA - luna xx

Zen

• You were both at a local tavern together with the rest of the RFA to celebrate another successful performance of his

• People who were fans of his came up every now and then asking for pictures and autographs and of course you didn’t mind

• Both of you actually enjoyed when his fans would come up because it showed his constant growth and that he was getting closer to his dream every day

• But with his popularity rising, so was yours

• You didn’t have fans necessarily, just admirers that thought you were rather pretty

• One of those admirers happened to be at the tavern and they approached you, a slight tint of red on their cheeks

• “Hello! I really don’t mean to interrupt but, I just wanted to say that I think you’re amazing with all of the help that you do with those amazing parties.”

• You were touched, and while you thanked them while giving them a brief hug you hadn’t noticed that Zen’s mood darkened instantly.

• They had long walked away from you both, and after about an hour Zen gave you a kiss to your forehead while smiling that same sweet smile

• “I’m going to go get some air for a moment, princess.”

• “Are you okay, Zen?”

• “Oh of course, I just wanted to go have a smoke.”

• You disapproved but allowed it anyway, giving him a peck on the lips as he walked away

• You had no idea that he’d singled out that admirer of yours, luring them outside into the alleyway

• He was on them, arm pressed against their neck in the shadows as he pinned them to the wall, eyes dark with jealousy as he growled at them

• “Who gave you the right to talk to MC, hm? Looks like you need to learn a few things...”

• When he came back inside you noticed that his knuckles were slightly bruised, but he still had that same smile that you’d always felt safe with

• “You’re okay...right Zen?”

• “Of course, princess. Nothing to worry about.”

Yoosung

• The epitome of a yandere

• You had decided to drop by at his college to bring him some home made lunch since he’d been a little stressed

• He was sitting with his study group outside on the grass, all of them furiously writing down their notes with their books open

• “Yoosung~ I brought you some stew! You’ve been working so hard.”

• His face instantly lights up as you stroll up, holding out his lunch as you kneel down next to him

• “MC! This is so sweet! Thank you so much!” You were met with endless quick kisses to your face, earning groans and playful complaints from his group

• You kissed the top of his head then walked away, and as soon as you were out of sight his friends just lay it on him

• “Honestly though Yoosung, I’m super jealous. MC is very caring, I wish I had someone like them.”

• yandere mode activated

• He asked that specific friend to help him with a certain subject for just another hour while everyone else packed up

• While they were walking to their classroom together to put away their books Yoosung suddenly grabbed them by the neck and dragged them into an empty classroom

• “You think that you can talk about MC that way? Understand that they’re mine, and don’t you ever forget it.”

• He choked them until their eyes rolled into the back of their head, only letting go when they’d stopped struggling so much

• They were left there, passed out on the ground while Yoosung walked away and went home

• There you were waiting for him, dinner already set out on the table as you grinned at his entrance

• “Honey you’re back!” He smiled, dropping his book bag as he opened his arms for you

• “My precious MC.”

Jaehee

• She was always rather protective of you

• Working at C&R showed her both the good and bad sides of people, especially those involved with business

• So when you’d both gotten to finally have that coffee shop together she’d noticed that the owner of the entire strip was getting a little...too comfortable with you

• They had even mentioned to Jaehee now and then how fun it would be for all of you to “hang out” and that was enough to get them on her blacklist

• You were oblivious of course and that was okay because she was going to take care of it

• “MC, would you mind going shopping for some supplies for the shop? I forgot to grab a couple of things, I’ll meet with the landlord myself to discuss any changes of rent, so don’t worry.”

• Of course you didn’t mind, but you were a little discouraged because it would take you at least an hour to get everything that was on the list she’d handed you

• And, that’s what she was planning on obviously

• She drove to the leasing office after making an appointment with the owner a couple of weeks prior, long hair shaping her face and chest as she purposely tugged down her shirt a little more

• Within minutes the owner was interested, though was still making comments about you and how “sweet and innocent” you were, almost as if describing a toy

• That was enough to make Jaehee grab them by the shoulder and toss them to the ground, hand pressing hard into their chest as they gasped for air, eyes empty as she stared them down

• “MC is not a toy, and you shall treat them with proper respect. They are my partner, and are not open to being with anybody else. Is that understood?”

• The owner was terrified, and just to make sure she didn’t come to them again offered to have you both not pay the rent for the rest of the lease until it was renewed

• “Jaehee! I don’t know how, but we suddenly have enough money to take that trip you wanted to go on! I guess profits have been really great this year!”

• She only smiled, coming up to you from behind and wrapping her arms around you into a warm, yet tight hug

• “It’s all because of you, MC. Without you I would still be lost. Never forget that I love you, and I would do anything to make you happy.”

Jumin

• Also another yandere type man

• He’d invited you along on a business trip in Dubai, and of course you were excited to go just because you were going to be with him

• After a meeting he’d offered to take you to the beach and you were beyond excited, leaving him in the sand as you ran for the ocean

• He watched fondly as you stripped off your bathing suit cover and waded in the water

• He had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life, and he was thoroughly proud of himself for deciding to take you along with him during a trip

• That is until you were walking back up to the cabana he was under, his brows furrowing as he noticed that you were crossing your arms over your body

• “MC? Is everything alright?”

• You slowly shook your head, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around your body as you sat down on his lap and leaned against his chest

• “I just felt a bit uncomfortable...when you’re done with that glass of wine, can we go back to our hotel?”

• It was then that he looked up in the direction you were walking from, a couple of men staring at you as they chuckled and laughed at themselves while making inappropriate gestures

• He immediately grabbed your shoulders, gently pushing you away so  you could meet his eyes

• “Did they touch you, MC? At all?”

• You shook your head, but he knew that they came pretty close to it from how violently you were shaking just from thinking about it

• While you were resting in his lap he brought up his cell phone, texting the head of his body guards a couple of orders before placing his sunglasses up on his head to look those men in the eye

• Within minutes those two men had been discreetly grabbed and walked off the beach, their eyes full of fear while Jumin smirked as they walked away

• Later that night after you’d fallen asleep in the hotel room he slipped out of the room, adjusting the tie as he took the elevator down to the basement with his escorts

• He was led to a private room, those two men from the beach sitting on chairs in a dimly lit room, faces contorted in fear as Jumin emerged from the shadows

• He gave a heavy sigh, shaking his head as he rolled up the sleeves of his suit, leaning in close as he clicked his tongue

• “You gentlemen have no idea who you’ve messed with. You’ll never see the light of day again.”

• By the time he was back up in the bedroom it was day light, his clothes a bit rough but not enough for you to notice due to the groggy feeling you had from sleep

• “Jumin? Where did you go, honey?”

• “Just an emergency meeting, kitten. Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”

• You hadn’t even noticed the slight hint of blood on the back of his neck...

707

• He’d noticed that you were feeling a bit off for the last couple of weeks, and he’d finally decided to address it with you

• That’s when you told him that you were dealing with your ex partner, who’d recently began to message you non-stop

• The breakup had been extremely messy, and now they were asking for you back

• His eyes clouded over as he asked you to see your phone, and of course you obliged

• He was happy to see that you’d mentioned endlessly that you were with somebody else, going so far as to send a picture of you and Saeyoung so that they would get the hint

• “Can you just block them, Saeyoung? I don’t want to deal with it anymore.”

• He beamed at you, bringing you in for a soft kiss as he hugged you close

• “Of course. Anything for you, MC.”

• And he blocked them of course at your request; but he also decided to take a step further

• He’d found the location of your ex, slipping out in the middle of the night while you were fast asleep

• Bringing Vanderwood with him stating that it was a mission from the agency, he had reached your ex within a few hours, breaking in quietly

• “Why are we really here, Luciel?”

• “Shut up Vanderwood. We’re here to get rid of filth.”

• Your ex slowly woke up to see Saeyoung standing over them, eyes wild as he leaned in close and let out an unhinged giggle

• “You should have left MC alone when you had the chance.”

• Within moments Saeyoung had grabbed them and dragged them out of bed

• He grabbed their head and twisted quickly, a horrifying snap resounding through the quiet bedroom

• “Luciel are you...Luciel?”

• Vanderwood looked shocked at how quickly he hadn’t hesitated, Saeyoung standing over their lifeless body as he looked at his long time partner in crime

• “You do not speak a word of this to MC. Do you understand?”

• Vanderwood agreed without question, and with that the two men drove home in silence

• When you’d awoken Saeyoung was in bed with you, shirt off as he slowly ran his fingers up and down your arms

• “Good morning, Saeyoung. I haven’t heard from my ex for the past few hours; thank you for blocking him.”

• He kissed you softly, running his hands through your hair

• “They won’t bother you anymore, MC. Don’t worry.”

• He smiled.

V

• The two of you had gone to a gallery where he was showcasing his work, the area extremely crowded since he never hosted such events for himself

• His arm was around you all night, except for a brief moment when you’d separated to go use the restroom

• On your way back you were bombarded by reporters, asking all sorts of personal questions while you tried to decline

• V kept his life private for a reason, and while it was very much public information that you two were together, both of you agreed that the public didn’t need to know every single detail about you

• That’s why when he’d noticed the commotion he was immediately engulfed with rage, shoving through the crowd as you tried to protect your eyes from the endless flashes from the cameras

• “Please everybody, back off! Give them some room!”

• He almost snarled, brows furrowed as he took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around you to hide your face

• One particular reporter happened to trip over someone’s feet, shoving you even further into V as you yelped from the contact

• All it took was for V to look at them, and instantly they stumbled backwards, promising that they never purposely tried to hurt you

• Later that day when you’d decided to visit Jaehee to talk about what happened, he took it upon himself to contact that reporter offering an exclusive interview

• The address that the reporter found themselves in was enough to make them regret taking up the offer, waiting outside of an abandoned building

• Before they knew it they were knocked unconscious, V holding an old rusted pipe as he tossed it aside and grabbed the reporter

• He dragged them inside, tossing them into a deep hole that was filled with old rusted metal pieces

• Some were jagged enough that they’d gone right through the reporters limbs and chest, puddles of blood pooling around the now lifeless body as V wiped his nose

• “That will teach you to touch my darling MC.”

• He picked you up from Jaehee’s after taking a shower at home, smiling at you from inside the car as you slid into the passenger seat.

• “Feeling better darling?”

• You nodded, leaning your head against his shoulder as you sighed with a small smile

• “I love you V. Thank you for understanding that I had to get away for a bit.”

• He returned your smile with a slight chuckle

• “I love you too, darling. Glad I could make you feel better.”

Saeran

• He had taken you on a date at the local botanical gardens, the two of you holding hands while he explained every type of flower’s meaning

• It was the perfect day, the sun shining on the two of you as you lazily strolled around

• He thought that absolutely nothing could ruin it

• That is, until one of the employees accidentally bumped into you while holding a few roses, one of the stems brushing against your arms

• “Ouch!”

• You’d cried out, a couple of thorns from the stems sticking out of your skin as you hissed and reached to pluck them out

• “Darling! Oh darling, are you alright?”

• Saeran was immediately fussing over you, and while you were distracted tending to your small scratches the employee immediately looked down in shame and panic

• “I am so so sorry! It was an accident!”

• When you weren’t looking Saeran glared daggers at the employee, taking notice of their name as he told them to leave you two alone

• “Are you sure you’re okay, MC?”

• You looked up with a small smile, shrugging your shoulders as you grabbed his hand

• “I’m fine, Saeran. Oh, did that employee leave already? I wanted to tell them that I was okay...”

• After so much reassurance you both continued on with your day at the garden

• Saeran mused that he had to use the restroom so you promised to wait at one of the benches under the shaded trees in the garden

• While you thought that he was on his way towards the employee’s only sections, having snatched a hat from one of the employees when they weren’t looking and making his way towards the break area

• There he’d found the employee that had bumped into you, standing at their locker; alone.

• He was behind them in minutes, shoving them into the lockers and pressing hard as he let out a deep menacing giggle

• “Found you.”

• He was back to you within twenty minutes; asking that you two finish the day with some ice cream before going home

• Of course you didn’t object, and while you were riding in the car you had heard a slight bump in the back

• “What was that Saeran?”

• “I’m not sure, MC. Let me check and see if something might have fell in the trunk.”

• He pulled over, leaving the stereo on as he got out of the car and opened the trunk

• When he was sure that you weren’t looking he leaned in close, the employee looking up at him with tears in their eyes and duct tape over their mouth

• They were bound by utility wires, squirming in fear as Saeran grabbed the tire iron and grinned down at them

• “Didn’t I say to keep quiet? We’re almost home.”

• With one hard swing the employee was unconscious, Saeran tossing the iron back into the trunk and slamming it closed

• “What was it, Saeran?”

• “Oh, nothing my princess, the spare tire just came loose. Let’s go home, darling.”

[pineapple-lover-boy]

For my last post where I talked about how I like bad and abusive characters to cope with with my own life I mentioned some characters in the tags to get it going. Now I’ve seen some of their apologists liking that post. (They don’t just like the character but some of their posts try to justify their actions)

No matter if someone has gone through something like abuse, a tough childhood, a bad breakup, or major insecurities (all of which go with the characters I put in the tags), that doesn’t mean they should be aloud to hurt others.

I tagged Severus Snape. He had a hard childhood, he was bullied, bad home life. All of these can go together to create someone who’s hurt and suffering. But that doesn’t excuse his behavior later in life. He bullied children based on trivial things (Harry was related to Lily but also James, Hermione is Harry’s friend *hc up ahead* but also a smart muggleborn like Lily, Ron is Harry’s friend *hc up ahead* but also red headed like Lily, *hc up ahead* Neville could’ve been the chosen one and Lily would’ve lived). See the pattern here? It was all because of his love and obsession for a woman who trusted him but he then slurred and after she rightfully walked away he went into a slump because all he ever cared about was her. And don’t hit me with that “but he became a double agent to protect Harry” bullshit. He clearly didn’t want to do that, it was Dumbledore’s doing. He was abused throughout his life but he then took it out on CHILDREN. There is NO excuse for that.

Bakugou Katsuki. Now as the manga and anime still go on he is changing for the better but this is for those who dismiss his actions because he’s hot. He went through some major stuff when he was little. All his life he’s been praised for his quirk and has just taken that all in to become an arrogant prick. Also whenever he got hurt, instead of people asking if he was ok, he was told how wonderful he was. That does a lot to a child’s psyche. BUT that does not excuse that fact that he told Deku to go kill himself! I know that was all the way in the first episodes but his attitude never really changed until recently. I love Bakugou with all my heart, he’s what got me into anime, but he’s an asshole. He treats Deku like shit just because he hasn’t got a quirk and he thinks that Deku thinks he’s better than him which is clearly far from the truth. Bakugou’s story isn’t over yet though so let’s hope he’s redeemed properly.

Akemi Keiichi and Tamura Yui. This one I’ll keep short. I’ll focus on specific moments in the manga than it all together. Akemi, while he clearly lives Itome, treats him like shit. They have their cute moments but Akemi’s behavior with others has gotten to Itome, and it shows. It is very obvious (in the manga) that Akemi once had a lover who left him for a woman and during the manga has gotten her pregnant (which explains his hatred for women). He’s scared to get close to Itome in fear that he’ll get hurt but that is NO EXCUSE FOR CHEATING ON YOUR SPOUSE. They have a special situation, granted, but Itome’s disdain for having sex with other people shows he wants a closed off relationship. I absolutely hate cheaters and people who get with other people in relationships while knowing of said relationships. I ABSOLUTELY loath them. No one should be have to suffer because of their spouses lousy, idiotic, hurting decision to break that trust and become a monster (in my eyes). (Also if you have cheated on someone do not follow me or unfollow, I don’t support thoughts who bring emotional turmoil to the ones they were supposed to love; there is no excuse). Now for Tamura. He is the definition of “being an asshole cause I love it”. Now, it’s shown that he was bullied and then of course the gangr@pe that he went through (I won’t be mentioning that as much because it’s canonical that he enjoyed it). No matter how much bullying someone goes through, they should never bully others. I’m not sure if Tamura still gets pushed around but either way he did the year before the manga started. Also he bullies Yacchan just because he likes him. *takes in a breath* YOU SHOULD NEVER BULLY SOMEONE BECAUSE OF YOUR OWN FEELINGS!!! And you should also never tell young children (mostly girls) that because someone is abusing you, it means they actually secretly love you. I feel this is the biggest reason as to why I’m not that big of a fan of Tamura. Either way, both these characters still have an ongoing story as the manga hasn’t ended yet so I hope they become better people in the long run (probably not though; if your a fan you’ll understand why).

TL;DR: just because a person went through something bad doesn’t mean they can do the same to others. Apologists for these characters should see them as flawed people (as we all are). Seeing them as gray characters doesn’t mean you shouldn’t like them or what they went through doesn’t matter. It means that your giving the character justice. Don’t lie to yourself and others because you want to make your fave the ultimate goody two shoes. It won’t work and it’s stupid.

[satendou]

⟼ some kind of disaster

⍣ all time low series | previous | next | 2/4

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: tendo/reader

⇢ au: atl!au, college!au

⇢ summary:  tendo knows he is, he was just waiting for you to figure it out  

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: angst, breakups, akaashi being a good friend, semi being (maybeb too much of) an asshole

⇢ word count: 3496

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: 1) this is unedited. 2) i have a serious complex about this whole series now due to how well monster did, so i’m sorry if anyone is disappointed by this chapter.

i’m a liar i’m a cynic i’m a sinner, i’m a saint i’m a loser i’m a critic i’m the ghost of my mistakes and it’s all my fault that i’m still the one you want what are you after, some kind of disaster

They say falling in love is easy, it’s falling out of love that’s hard. What they fail to mention is how hard it is to still be in love even when you know it isn’t what’s best for you.

And right then, Tendo wasn’t good for you.

It had been several months since that first night and, though you had known it wouldn’t be easy, you had never expected it to be like it was. He had more issues than you could have imagined and a staunch refusal to talk about them. You had your guesses about why which you tried to understand, but the way he handled any small argument or misunderstanding in your relationship was unbearable and unhealthy.

Even now, he wasn’t speaking to you and it was tearing you apart. You weren’t even aware of what you had done because he wouldn’t tell you and you couldn’t for the life of you recall having done anything specific.

“Are you gonna do it today?” Akaashi asked, his words soft, full of understanding. The classical literature class you shared with him was over, and he hovered beside your chair waiting for you to gather your thoughts and your items up. He knew most of what had been happening with Tendo and sympathized because he also knew how enamored you had become with him. It was understandable-- you had been dating for a while, but he had seen a slow decline in your mood over the last few months. After the honeymoon period was over, he would guess, and the little issues that always crop up in relationships started to manifest. 

He recalled the night two weeks ago when you had come to him asking for advice, and it all poured out over takeout and wine. Even Bokuto, who always saw the bright side of things, remained in silent shock at everything happening behind the scenes.

You said he was never violent or angry or irrational. He would just...ignore you for hours or days on end, sometimes for things you couldn’t even determine, then come back like nothing had happened. If you did have an argument, no matter how small, he would just walk away without even trying to come to an agreement, then refuse to speak to you like normal until he decided he was done with that.

Akaashi’s heart broke for you as you sobbed into first your hands and then Bokuto’s shoulder, though he couldn’t refrain from smiling at Bokuto’s sympathy tears. His partner really was too cute for words.

Then you had spoken the dreaded words he was sure had been sitting in your throat for a lot longer than it had taken you to come to him.

“I think I’m going to break up with him.”

The relief that drew across your face as you said that was evident that you weren’t thinking about it, that you just needed support to go through with it. Of course, he and Bokuto were more than willing to give you that.

“I think so,” you murmured, taking your time packing up your stuff. The text you had sent at the beginning of class went unanswered, but marked that it was read two minutes after you sent it.

We need to talk.

It was too obvious what that meant and you were dreading the confrontation to come. You weren’t worried about him getting aggressive. In fact, you were pretty sure you knew how this was going to go down. Like every other argument, he was going to pretend it wasn’t happening and walk away.

The door was too loud when it opened, the students out in the hall too happy when Akaashi opened it. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw Tendo standing across from the door staring out the window with a pensive expression. Then it clenched with all the emotions you were feeling, good and bad and your head spun with anxiety. He looked so sad, his usually vibrant red eyes dull and blank as he watched whatever was going on in the quad.

“I’ll wait for you, okay?” Akaashi asked. You nodded absently, eyes still locked on Tendo. For most people, he would be afraid they were going to renege on their resolve and give into the false promises of change. But the change he had witnessed in you over the last few months and the quiet sadness in your softly spoken words a couple of weeks back had given him a different feeling. You would go through with it, and it was going to shatter you.

Tendo still didn’t look at you when you called his name and, if you had been wavering at all, that shut it down. But he followed you anyway, until you found a secluded spot down an empty hallway. 

You took a deep, stuttery breath. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, and his voice was icy. He didn’t even seem to care about the tears starting to fall or the way you swiped them away. But it pierced his heart, knowing it was him that caused them, and he knew what was coming. He had known it would end this way the moment he fell for you. He had ended up hurting you just as he’d said he would, and yet he’d let it get this far anyway.

“I’m sorry for whatever it is I did this time. And I’m sorry, but-- I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you whispered, drawing him back to the present.

Silence followed those words. You still weren’t looking at him, so you missed the widening of those sleepy vermillion eyes you’d so come to love and the hands that caressed you so gently curling into fists at his sides.

He knew it, but couldn’t stop the surprise, even as the first crack appeared in his heart. “I-- What?”

It was so hard. Without meaning to, you had fallen in love with him, flaws and baggage and all. You should’ve known better. You had known it wouldn’t be easy to love him but it...it was so much harder than you had been expecting. Too much of your time was spent wondering what you had done to upset him this time and why he was ignoring you, because Tendo didn’t talk about his feelings with you. He left them on a back burner on high until they were so burnt they were unrecognizable, and when he was done being pouty he would seek you out and act like nothing was wrong.

There was no communication in your relationship-- if you could even call it that at this point. You couldn’t find a point to being together if every other day you had done something new to drive him away. It was taxing on you, your mental health plummeting because you were constantly worried about if something was wrong with you. It wasn’t until one of your other friends pointed out how different you were that you turned inward and discovered that particular truth.

You were struggling to keep it together by then, the pain in your heart and the tightness in your throat threatening to overwhelm you. You still hadn’t looked at Tendo. It was too hard-- you would never be able to get the words out if he was staring at you with hurt and confusion. 

Taking a steadying breath, you said, “I can’t fix you, Tendo. This-- This thing we have isn’t healthy, it’s-- we spend more time f-fighting than we do-- or you spend more time ignoring* me for things I-- I don’t even know why half the time and I’m constantly wondering what I’ve done--”

You stopped.

Your thoughts were racing in time with the throbbing pain in your chest and your voice had risen into a high-pitched, breathless mess and you couldn’t think. Breathing in deep, you closed your eyes, letting the tears fall as they may just to give you some relief from the pressure in your throat and once again you missed the look of fear on Tendo’s face.

He’d seen it coming. He had been expecting it for weeks, but didn’t know he would still be blindsided by it. It was his own fault, expecting you to chase after him and deal with his bullshit on your own. He knew it wasn’t fair, but every time he considered the alternative, he clammed up. Still, he wanted to reach out, to comfort you and tell you he would change, but he knew it wasn’t true.

His problems were deep rooted and it wasn’t his partner’s job to put him back together-- even he knew that.

So his nails continued to bite into his palms at his side as he let you spill every pent up emotion, just waiting for the final door to slam in his face.

“But it isn’t me,” you whispered, so quiet he almost missed it. At long last, you lifted your head up and met his eyes. Those beautiful red eyes that you often found yourself lost in were bright and clear and dead, not a trace of emotion anywhere in them. Like he didn't care, and that only made you cry harder. “I know it’s you and I can’t do it anymore. Everything you do makes me-- I’m not the problem, Tendo.” He flinched at the use of his surname and you ignored it. “I love you, you know that? I don’t know when or how, but I do know why. But I also know we aren’t healthy and this relationship is-- it isn’t a relationship. It just isn’t. I don’t know what it is but I--”

He swallowed as your shoulders fell. The words he wanted to say bubbled on his tongue and he bit them back. Hearing you say them now was a cruelty he knew he deserved after the way he’d been treating you, but he still wanted to lash out and break you like you had broken him. But as a last kindness for what you had given him, he only turned and walked away.

The silence that remained spoke volumes like the space that had developed between you, and you left as well, leaving everything behind.

Akaashi was waiting for you just around the corner from the hall, watching Tendo shove through the crowd and out of sight. His hand was warm against your cheek as he wiped away the lingering tears. For now, they had stopped, but he knew more would come.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, in some regards. The weight of your feelings for him still remained, and you knew they would take some time to slide off as well. Akaashi was watching you with kind sympathy, his quiet company a relief as you looped your arm with his, letting him lead you out into the warm spring air. It seemed almost cruel that the weather was so nice when you were so miserable, and a few more tears spilled. 

Guilt accompanied every breath that you felt so light following your breakup, but you knew it was for the best. Nothing good would come of remaining with Tendo when he was so mixed up-- you couldn’t make him happy if he couldn’t make himself happy, and vice versa.

Bokuto’s voice rang loud over the sound of the rest of the crowd, waving his hand above his head at the pair of you. 

“Shall we go get something to eat? And it’s Friday, you can stay with us, if you’d like,” Akaashi said, his voice soothing and melodic to your ringing ears. Suddenly you were more than grateful to have him and Bokuto in your life-- even if the latter was a bit obnoxious.

Like now, he was literally tugging you and Akaashi along behind him, talking nonstop about food, not listening to a word Akaashi was saying. But when you looked over to your friend, he didn’t look aggravated. He looked content and amused, staring at his partner with a soft fondness that made you almost jealous as you thought about when Tendou would look at you that same way.

There was a sharp pang in your heart as you realized he probably wouldn’t look twice at you again. Because that’s just how Tendou was. He ignored his problems and waited until they just went away. And you needed more than that.

i crashed down from a high that felt so real i never knew how much it would hurt to feel you gotta hurt sometimes to learn to heal you gotta get back up and learn to deal, yeah and it’s all my fault that i’m still the one you want

“You’re a fool, you know that?” Semi said. Though it was posed as a question, Tendo knew perfectly well that Semi was telling him what he already knew. As soon as Tendo had shown up in front of him, Semi had snapped that and he could only nod in agreement. “I always knew you’d do this. _____ was perfect for you but you--”

“I know, alright,” Tendou snapped, curling his fists into hands. It was almost impossible for him to hold back the tears that had been threatening to fall since he’d first gotten your text an hour and a half ago. Like the coward he was, he had ignored it and met you outside your class instead, a part of him hoping it would just go away if you saw him. But the hopelessness in your eyes when you had looked at him told him he wouldn’t get his wish this time. “I know I’m a fucking idiot, and _____ was always too good for me.”

A flash of your face and the echo of your words replayed in his addled brain.

“I don’t know what I’ve done this time.”

You hadn’t done anything. You had never done anything. He was a coward when it came to arguments but when he was ignoring you it wasn’t because of you.

It was him, all his fears bubbling to the surface and an attempt to push you away, to make you realize you were worth more than whatever he had to offer.

“Whatever we have is unhealthy.”

“It isn’t even a relationship.”

He was unhealthy, he knew he was, and it had driven you away from him. He only had himself to blame.

Semi huffed, watching Tendo closely. He was doing that blank thing he did to mask his feelings when he couldn’t handle them, turning into himself instead of applying the burden to someone else. He was sure he was doing it to you in your relationship too, and you probably didn’t understand because Tendo wasn’t being open. It was a vicious cycle, one Semi had seen too often. “I’m glad you realize, you idiot.” Then, more softly, he said, “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. I know you love her.”

Tendo flinched, his eyes closing.

*“I love you, you know that?”*

He would have said them back in a heartbeat, given the opportunity. He wanted so desperately to say them but the words had stuck in his throat, and the less selfish part of him knew it was for the best. The situation was already fucked up enough without him stirring it up more. Saying those words back would have hurt more than helped, especially because, deep down, he knew he wouldn’t change.

At least he could say he had done something right, in letting you go. 

You would flourish without him holding you back and weighing you down with all his problems and baggage.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

Semi’s voice cut through Tendo’s derogatory thoughts, and he flinched again. He hated that smug, all knowing tone even though he was usually spot on.

“Alright then, oh great oracle. What am I thinking?” he asked, shuffling along down the sidewalk towards their apartment. Trying to think of anything besides you, he tried to remember what was in their fridge to eat. Old pizza is all he could think of, from when you had come over and--

Nope.

Semi snorted at Tendo’s sad attempt at humor. Not that all of his attempts weren’t sad but his heart really wasn’t in it this time. “You’re telling yourself it was for the best and how you aren’t good enough and blah blah blah. You’re still an idiot.”

“Would you stop saying that?” Tendo asked, looking up to the sky. It was still early afternoon, the sky cloudless, the air pleasantly warm. If circumstances were different he would be spending it with you by his side-- then again, probably not. He hadn’t properly spoken to you or seen you in a few days and it wasn’t going to change today either. “My ears hurt.”

And his heart. He could feel a slow throbbing building up between his ears. A migraine was the final nail he deserved in his coffin and the sadistic part of him wanted to exacerbate it as much as he could. Just to give himself something else to focus on.

“Fine, fine. Just one more time. You’re a goddamn idiot,” Semi said, glaring at him. He knew he should feel worse for his friend than he was, but he also deserved it. There was only so much sympathy he could give when Tendo refused to help himself. He had never been happier than when he started dating you and Semi couldn’t go ten minutes without hearing your name. Now Tendo was slumped over as they walked, feet shuffling against the sidewalk as he stared blankly ahead, and Semi sighed. “Can I give you some advice? You know, friend to idiot?”

Tendo groaned, rolling his eyes, but nodded nonetheless. Semi meant well-- mostly-- and usually gave good advice. Now, if only he would stop trying to make Tendo feel worse. “Sure, I guess. We both know I won’t listen though.”

Semi nodded, snickering behind his hand. The signal for the crosswalk changed, throngs of people instantly flooding the street. They flowed through and around each other, becoming separated for a few moments, until they met on the sidewalk on the other side.

“When you two are together, were together, I’ve never seen you happier. And Akaashi says that _____ is-- was-- too. Do you not trust her?” Semi asked, and watched the way Tendo froze up and paled, inhaling sharply. But he didn’t immediately say no, and that was telling. “If you don’t trust her, you’ll never maintain a relationship, with her or anyone else. Do you really want that, ‘Tori?”

He hadn’t considered that. Not trusting you wasn’t the exact issue. He felt he could tell you anything-- so long as anything didn’t entail things that might annoy you or make him a burden on you. His biggest fear was putting too much of himself into you only to overwhelm you, driving you away. That had backfired pretty spectacularly though, if he had to say so, and now he was left to wonder what would have happened if he had gone that route.

“No, I guess not,” he answered. To anyone else it would have sounded callous and uncaring, but Semi had known him a lot longer and recognized the sound of a Tendo who was in serious thought.

“Then you need to change. I get that you’re afraid, but those bullies from elementary and highschool shouldn’t keep holding you back. And who knows, maybe it isn’t too late with _____,” Semi said with a shrug, and smirked at the way Tendo perked up at that. He deflated just as rapidly a split second later, but it was to be expected. 

The smirk fell as Semi considered. The way things stood, you were better off because Tendo was unhealthy, and probably not in a good place to be in a relationship. He didn’t fault you for breaking it off-- not when he would have done the same. Still, he’d like to see him happy again, especially with you. But he couldn’t guess if Tendo would take it to heart and try, or whether or not you would wait around for him to decide and figure himself out.

Shrugging, he glanced at the barbecue place they were passing by and reached out, tugging Tendo to a stop. When he nodded towards it, Tendou sighed.

“Sure, I’m down. Shouldn’t be sad on an empty stomach.”

Semi groaned. “You are such an idiot.”

i’m a liar i’m a cynic i’m a sinner, i’m a saint i’m a loser i’m a critic i’m the ghost of my mistakes and it’s all my fault that i’m still the one you want what are you after, some kind of disaster

⇥ masterlist 

⇥ taglist: @sluttony​, @visaintes​, @yunhosblackgf​, @super-noya​, @byebyes-world​, @newfriendjen​, @atsunakaashi​

[notnctu]

to jaehyun, my first love ♡

To All The J’s I’ve Loved Before Series by notnctu ♡ jung jaehyun x fem!reader ♡ genre - fluff, slight angst ♡ wc - 2.1k ♡ warnings - explicit language ♡ synopsis - in which Mark accidentally sets you up on a date with your first love and ex-boyfriend, Jung Jaehyun ♡ taglist - @colpen​ ; @cestmoncoeur​ ; @hyucksberry​ ♡ a/n - i had to repost bc tumblr keeps randomly deleting our shit omggg pls ;-; let us know if you want to be on the taglist for the next ones!

Jaehyun,

I’ve never done this before, but the feelings you give me are too intense to not write it out. You’re like every dream come to life. A fairytale that came alive from the books. You remind me of a noble, quiet prince riding on his high horse. It’s not subtle, but not too grand to be overwhelming.

I think I love you. You’d be rolling your eyes at that word. It’s high school, what could I possibly know about love, right? And no, it’s not about you being my first boyfriend and my first kiss. It’s much more than those mundane things.

It’s the skipping of my heart when I’m the reason behind the dimples appearing. Or the butterflies I feel knowing that you, Jung Jaehyun, likes me back. I’m truly still in shock that you’re dating me. There are about two hundred people in this entire school and I’m the one who you send goodmorning and goodnight texts to.

My favorite day is still the day you asked me to be your’s. Cliche, whatever. But I’m not the only one who gushed at the sight of you holding the bouquet of my favorite flowers. Or the way you nervously couldn’t look me in the eye. You are the sweetest boy that has graced my life. I don’t know how I managed to get so lucky.

It’s a lie for me to not admit that I do feel insecure at times about our relationship. You’re not one to express your emotions or thoughts, you tell me it’s your actions. As your slow, yet improving partner, I am currently mindful of every action, like when you brush my hair out of my face because you want to get a good look at me. To see the real me. I like that the most.

Do guys feel these same strange intense feelings? Like my heart bursts thinking about your shy glances and your fingers tangled with mine. Whenever you hug me, I feel like I’m holding the very thing that makes me feel alive. I’m experiencing excitement, joy, and a weird burning sensation that spreads across my chest. It’s like we’re living a movie, but it’s better because it’s real life.

You’re the one, Jaehyun. It’s hard to explain and I’m absolutely being dramatic. But it’s not too far fetched. We’re still young, but I can see a future with you and how you want to chase your dreams with someone by your side. Don’t act like you don’t look directly at me when you say that.

Don’t feel pressured, I’m not asking for your hand in marriage just yet. I just have an inexplicable feeling that you’re someone that I’m going to love forever.

In this fairytale, do you believe in forever?

-from your hopeless romantic girlfriend, y/n

If anyone were to be blamed for this very awkward encounter between you and your ex-boyfriend, it would be Mark Lee. He went on for ages, boasting about some hot guy he wanted to set you up with since you had been single for quite a time. He only meant good intentions, so you could stop holding yourself in your apartment alone during the weekends.

And there was no possible way for Mark to know that his Jung Jaehyun was the same Jung Jaehyun you dated back in high school. Though, if Mark had been specific by telling you the mystery boy’s name, you wouldn’t have to be standing in front of Jaehyun in a stiff atmosphere intended for a harmonious date.

“I didn’t expect to run into you.” Stupid and you knew, you weren’t the only one who thought so. Jaehyun practically scoffed so loud that it physically pained you. Arms crossed, weight barred on his left leg, eyes rolled all the way to the back of his head. He was definitely expecting someone else who didn’t make a fool out of themselves.

“(Y/N), don’t act like we didn’t apply and commit to the same college. We were bound to see each other in some way.”

“Fine, you’re right. I guess, I didn’t expect it to be like this.” Your eyes diverted shyly to the ground as you played with the ends of your sweet dress. At this point, your bed and pj’s seemed much better than a rekindle of the mess you made.

Jaehyun cursed at Mark underneath his breath before running his hands through his brown locks. There was too much you wished to stare at. Jaehyun still managed to make your heart stop with his attractiveness. Time benefited him more than anyone else you’ve met from your past. Through his changes, there were the similarities you loved: the depth of his dimples, the softness of his skin, the charm with a simple look, the fluffiness of his hair.

He dug his hands into his jean pockets and pursed his lips together before saying, “look, I don’t want to date you again and truthfully, Mark never told me your name when he talked about you, so I don’t know what twisted setup you two planned for this to be.”

Your facial expression reacted before you could collect your thoughts at the harsh rejection, which was a complete spin from when he had first accepted your heart. You were really regretting the pitiful letter sitting in your childhood room at the moment and the fact that he was the first letter.  

“Listen, Mark didn’t mention your name either when he talked about the ‘hot, sweet boy’, so you can kiss my ass if you really think that I purposefully set this up to get back together with you.” Jaehyun’s eyebrow rose and his jaw tightened at your response.

“I’m supposed to believe that this was a mere coincidence or a sickly twisted fate that we ended up together again?”

It was your turn to scoff, roll your eyes, and cross your arms. “Like how I’m supposed to believe you’re the same guy that Mark raves about. You’re far from a kindhearted, wholesome person who volunteers at the dog rescue center and to think, I ever fell for someone who had the potential to be this arrogant!”

A quick spin on your heels sent you dramatically walking off to your car. Though, the sounds of heavy footsteps caught up to you and a hand closed your car door shut before you could step in. “I’m sorry. I haven’t completely forgiven myself and you for the breakup.”

“It happened a long, long time ago.”

“You’re right, but I still beat myself up to this day that our relationship could have been saved if we both didn’t give up.”

Sighing, you held his cheek gently and he faced you with hurt reflecting in his eyes. “We were young and stubborn. We gave up because we didn’t have the emotional capacity to fix it, Jae.”

He lit up at the sound of his nickname and how much he missed hearing it roll off your tongue. It was like a switch flipped on. “Haven’t heard you say my name in a while. I almost forgot how much I loved it.”

The appearance of his dimples and brightening smile caused a disruption of butterflies to swarm in your stomach. This feeling could only be produced by him and no one else. The true holder of your heart has returned and left you a bit unsettled.

If he hasn’t already charmed your pants enough, his cool lean against your car definitely sealed the deal. “Are you flirting with me, Jung Jaehyun?” Your narrowed eyes zoned in on the unmistakable smirk that plastered his face.

His lips rolled together, emphasizing the crescents in his cheeks more. “We can’t let poor Mark down. How about we try going on this date?” He paused to gauge your reaction, “so we don’t have to lie when we report back to him.”

“Fine, for the sake of Mark and because I’ll admit, I did miss your presence.” Every detail reminded him of the most amazing times he spent with you. It was like he was watching one of his favorite films or listening to a forgotten playlist that triggered all kinds of emotions he had felt before.

He jumped off the vehicle with the biggest gleam that was not present earlier. This was the Jaehyun you remember. He couldn’t contain his excitement and oftentimes, only being able to express his emotions through his actions.

“Well, you’re not one who’s hard to miss. I don’t think I can get your smile out of my head for the next few days.” You quietly pondered the thought of how easy this all was for him.

Hours flew by, endlessly chatting away to catch up with each other’s lives and reminiscing the good parts of your relationship. The restaurant had grown empty and quiet, to the point of being kicked out of the establishment. Before either of you could process the mutual feeling of happiness, there was a brief moment of wondering what the next steps of this was. He cleared his throat when you two arrived at your car.

“I had a great time today, Jaehyun.” The sadness in your voice was not unnoticed by him.

“Can I ask why Mark was so persistent in setting us up?” Jaehyun inquired as he took off his jacket to wrap around your shaking, exposed shoulders. His thin shirt blew wildly in the breeze, but he’d rather have you warm and him frozen by the night.

The tiny thanks escaped as a whisper and you hugged his scent tighter. “He just wants me to stop being alone on the weekends because that’s when he goes back home with his family.”

Jaehyun nodded knowingly, “I can still change that for you.”

“Don’t give up your weekends at the shelter for me and it sounds like you already have a lot on your plate.”

He chuckled delightfully and there was hope to hear it again. “I can sacrifice a few hours at the shelter to be with a friend. Plus, you’re important to me and like I said many years before, I want you by my side as I chased my dreams. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner. I take the responsibility of being bitter over something in the past and tonight really made me realize what all the anger stole from me.”

Jaehyun pulled you into an overdue hug. His cologne engulfed you like old times. “Just to avoid confusion, we aren’t getting back together.. ever.” His chest muffled your words, but he heard you loud and clear.

“There’s not a sliver of hope?” It wasn’t hurt that laced his question, but something light and playful. Jaehyun’s strong arms pulled away, but his hands dropped to hold yours. A small smile rested on his face, his lips looked as tempting as you remembered them to be.

“No, there’s not.” The mood shifted to a more serious atmosphere, but it was finally time to address the elephant in the empty parking lot. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m always going to love you. People don’t call it a first love for nothing. Back when we were still together, and I told you I believed in forever, I meant it. But that doesn’t mean my heart wants you back, I want you to be happy with someone else.”

Jaehyun’s eyes sparkled underneath the dark night sky, but he broke the gaze when he grew shy at how the conversation had turned. A warmth spread across his chest and suffocated him tenderly. “Nice to know that I’m not the only one that still holds you in a special place in my heart. You’re right, my first love is unforgettable. You are unforgettable.”

Warm cheeks and shy, averting eyes wrapped up the date nicely. And all of which was thanks to Mark, who cluelessly set you up with your first love. You coughed to fill the tense air, noticing the goosebumps that rose on his arms. “We should get going, it’s too cold to be standing out here.”

“Right, I don’t want you catching a cold. You know how needy you get when your nose starts dripping uncontrollably.” His laughter mixed with yours as you handed his jacket back to him.

Rolling your eyes, Jaehyun helped you open your car door. “Anyways, are you up for a movie night this weekend?”

“No horror movies unless you want to end up in my arms.” He winked and you punched his arm playfully at his flirty banter.

“Don’t push it, Jae!” You giggled, entering your car to shield from the bitterness that was abandoned to linger in the air.

“Okay, princess. I’ll see you at your castle real soon.” With that, he closed your door and waved a small goodbye. Watching his figure disappear into his own vehicle, you realized the thought that Jaehyun was always the reason you started to love. Even in this reality, he was the reason you believed in a forever.

[all-my-love-for-harry]

I should’ve kissed you.

Summary: Perhaps is never too late to chase after the love of your life.

Word count: 5.8k

a/n: i don't have anything against camille, i don't know her and couldn't care less about her but she was the last person harry dated so to make it accurate i used her for the timeline.

you can find the rest of my masterlist here.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: 

Friends that could've been more if only destiny wasn't against them. More often than not, we find ourselves thinking about the 'what if's in life, trapped in a living fantasy of what our lives could be if only we'd play of cards right.

For some, the universe isn't entirely against them. Like it's the case of Harry, someone who was able to achieve things he'd never thought he would. Someone who, at plain sight, had everything a person could've ever asked for.

Money, fame, status. You name it, he has it. What nobody told him, was how lonely it could get once you've reached the top. You have millions of hearts beating just for you, but the only want you really desire.

Y/N and Harry met when they were six years old. Harry pushed her by accident in the playground, what resulted in her falling facedown to the floor. The then little boy felt so bad when he saw her knee bleeding even though she had told him it was fine. Ever since that day, Harry never left Y/N's side, following her like a shadow.

Harry wasn't by any means a shy child, however he didn't have a lot of friends besides Y/N, claiming he didn't need anyone else as long as he had her.

From playing in the playground every day, to playdates in each other's houses, to dates in the park. They spent their childhoods together at all moments.

When their children's phases were over and they no longer played hide and seek in Anne's living room or spent hours in Y/N's mum's backyard running around, the two of them stayed closer than ever.

Anne and Y/M/N didn't want to be the type of mums who tried to pair their children up just because they spent time together, but it was hard not to when you saw the way Harry looked at Y/N, like she hung the moon and the stars. They'd say the pair of friends would end up together sooner or later, but as years went by, Harry and Y/N remained as what they already were, best friends.

Their feelings for each other remained unknown, always thinking their bond was purely platonic to the other and their feelings were one sided.

When Harry turned sixteen, his mum made him audition for the x factor. Y/N went every single day before the audition to assure Harry how talented he was, making him sing her songs all the time. And he'd gladly do so, always loving the way her eyes lit up every time he sang to her.

The day of his audition, she was there holding Gemma's hand while wearing those matching t-shirts to support Harry. She was the first one he wrapped around his arms once we returned backstage, squeezing her oh-so-tight until she told him she couldn't breathe.

Y/N was there every step of the way, never missing anything and always being there when Harry needed her, as a friend.

When Y/N had her first broken heart, Harry was there to pick up the pieces. When she got accepted in her dream school he was the first one she called.

They had this unspoken rule about approving each other's partners, always making sure the other one liked them before becoming serious with that person.

For most of the time, it worked. Sometimes Harry would be a little stubborn and wouldn't listen to Y/N at first, and the majority of the time he'd come back to her with a broken heart for her to fix.

Y/N was more someone of serious relationships, not entirely comfortable with doing the whole sleep around deal. When she was twenty she met a guy a couple of years older than her, started dating him soon after they met and after three years they were still together.

For Harry, things were a little different. He dated occasionally but never anything serious since he was always busy when he was in the bad, but when the band went on hiatus he started looking for someone he could go home to.

That's when he met Camille. Harry had a tendency to catch feelings way too easily and when he fell for someone, he fell hard. This wasn't always convenient, but at the end that's who he was. The first time Harry told Y/N about her was during a phone call. He sounded so excited, going on and on about how great she was, and Y/N wasn't one to question Harry's judgment (most of the time), so she believed him.

Y/N was in Los Angeles when she met Camille for the first time. The three of them went out for dinner, Harry's request. Y/N wasn't expecting much of her, honestly. She didn't put high expectations on what Camille would be like, and after they met at dinner, she was glad she didn't.

Camille wasn't entire horrible. To Y/N, she'd come off as a little bit... rude. And superficial. Her sense of humor wasn't exactly Y/N's cup of tea, and she could see it wasn't Harry's either as he'd try his best to force a laugh every time Camille'd say something that was supposed to be funny but would come out as rude or inappropriate.

Y/N met her again a couple times but her opinion didn't change much. Being completely honest, Y/N thought they wouldn't last. Harry was on tour and Camille had her own life and based on what her best friend would tell her, they didn't get to see each other as much. But Harry was pretty convinced their relationship could work.

That same year but a couple of months later, Y/N went through a rough patch in her life. Her boyfriend of almost four years dumped her for someone his age, saying she wasn't what he wanted anymore.

That was the first time Harry wasn't there to heal her broken heart.

She tried to call him, she really did. One time she called him during a concert and the other time Camille answered the phone to say Harry was sleeping.

So Y/N had no choice but to suck it up.

Harry had a short break from tour and decided to go home for a bit, having missed his family a lot. When he arrived, he wasn't surprised Anne had family and friends over to welcome him.

Looking around the room, Harry looked for the one person in specific. "She's outside." Anne said, knowing exactly who he was looking for. Harry flashed her a smile and walked through the back door that went to the backyard. He found her sitting on one of the swings they used to play with, looking at the ground.

"Hey, stranger." Harry said, taking a seat on the other swing next to hers. Y/N looked up, offering him a half smile. "How have you been?"

"Been better." She simply said.

"Why didn't you call me?" He furrowed. Harry didn't much about her breakup since he never answered her calls, instead he found out through Gemma.

"I tried, you never answered." She wasn't looking at him and he hated how depressed she seemed but hated even more not knowing the full story behind her broken heart.

"You called one time, Y/N." He insisted.

"No. I called multiple times. Camille answered the phone once and said she'd tell you to call me back, but apparently she didn't tell you"

Harry was confused. He remembers checking his history call and Y/N's number being there only once. "Are you sure? Because she'd have told me if you called"

"Are you sure about that?" She questioned, finally looking up.

"What does that supposed to mean?"

"Forget it." She said, trying to get up from the swing but Harry took her forearm, stopping her.

"No, I’d like to talk about this now. You never told me you opinion about Camille, Y/N."

"Is because i don't have one." She sat back, shrugging off her forearm from his embrace.

"You don't like her." He stated, looking hurt.

Y/N sighed. She was too emotionally unstable right now to deal with this, so instead of lying, she told the truth. "No, I don't."

"Why?"

"Do we have to do this?" Harry looked at her, sternly. "She's rude, Harry. And inappropriate. I don't feel comfortable being around her, that's why I’ve cancelled every time you want the three of us to go out." Y/N looked at him in the eye.

Harry didn't know what to say. When it came to Y/N, he'd have expected a simple 'i like her as long as you do' as that had been the answer she'd always give him.

But this, this was different. She truly did not like Camille and was voicing her opinion to him, not even trying to pretend to like her for his sake. He didn't know how to react, completely unaware of the damage is next words would bring.

"Perhaps if you took the time to get to know her, you wouldn't be so judgmental." He furrowed, feeling attacked. "Seriously, Y/N, you're the only one who come across as rude by canceling every time i say she'd come too."

"You asked for my opinion, Harry. I gave it to you so can we please be done with this?" She felt a massive headache coming and the last thing she wanted was start a fight deep down she knew she'd lose.

"How can i be done with it now that i found out you hate my girlfriend?" He sighed, angrily. "You know what i think? I think you're acting like a proper bitch just because Seth dumped you and you can't stand seeing anyone else around you happy!" he shouted. "Why can't you feel happy for me? Not everyone is a complete asshole like Seth turned out to be, so I’d appreciate if you stopped badmouthing my girlfriend."

Y/N froze in her place. The words that came out of Harry's mouth had the solid purpose to get under her skin. But instead of making her angry like he'd have expected, he saw the exact moment her eyes filled with tears, her upper lip started trembling and that's when he knew he went too far.

She nodded, processing his words before standing up from the swing. She walked hurriedly inside of the house and despite hearing people call after her, Y/N went straight to the front door and slammed it behind her as she went out. Never once looking back.

Even Harry heard the noise she made when she left, so he stood up from his seat and almost ran inside. When he didn't see her, he panicked. Harry never thought she would actually leave the house before they could talk through the issue, she was never one to run out of her problems, but then again she was hurting and wasn't in a good place emotionally after Seth broke her.

Not that Harry would know any of that. And now he understood that. He was so quick to go for her throat that he never noticed how sad she actually was. He was too focused on talk about himself and his relationship that he never asked her how she really was.

"Mum, i fucked up." Harry came to Anne, tears staring to form in his eyes. "Y/N left." He added.

"What did you do, Harry?" She did see her storm out of the house and immediately knew the two best friends had a fight. Although she wasn't sure she wanted to know what made Y/N so upset. "Wait, don't tell me. Whatever it is i'm sure you'll fix it."

"I need to talk to her tomorrow." Harry started tugging on his hair.

"Why tomorrow?"

"I don't think right now she would appreciate my presence, mum. I'll let her cool down and I’ll go find her tomorrow"

Except Y/N did want Harry's presence in that moment. She felt like she was about to drown in her own sorrows and although what Harry said also hurt her, there was nothing else she wanted more than one of his healing hugs. She sat down in her car for twenty minutes, thinking Harry would go after her, but he never did.

Driving all the way from Holmes Chapel to London in the middle of the night didn't sound like the smartest plan ever, but Y/N needed to clear her mind and in all honesty, she just wanted to go home. She knew she would need to call her mother and give her an explanation for her sudden absence but she'll deal with that in the morning.

Right now she wanted to take a bath and get drunk on a bottle of wine. And that's exactly what she did as soon as she crossed the door to her home. She dragged herself upstairs and towards her bathroom, not without making a quick trip to the kitchen to find the alcoholic drink before she did so.

It was only after she was settled in the tub, loads of bubbles surrounding her when she allowed herself to fully cry.

Of course she wanted Harry happy, she'd give up on her own happiness in a heartbeat if that meant he'd be happy. Y/N couldn't help but feel protective over him, his heart has been broken too many times and to be honest she was growing tired of just being there to pick up the mess.

She has given up so much for him, and although she didn't always receive the same from him, she understood and still loved him unconditionally.

But perhaps picking him over herself wasn't something she was willing to do anymore. She had her own broken heart to deal with and wasn't sure if she could heal Harry's once his relationship was over.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: 

First thing Harry did when he woke up, was try to call Y/N. One, two, three, four times and none of those she'd pick up.

He walked the short distance between his mother's house and Y/N's mum's house, hoping to find her there. Much to his surprise, her mom opened the door, giving him a sympathetic smile.

"Hello, Harry."

"Is she awake yet? I need to talk to her." Harry said with a shaky voice.

"Y/N's not here, love. She left last night."

Harry furrowed. "In the middle of the night? Has she called you?"

"I wasn't thrilled either but she has, honey. And she told me she made it safely."

Harry nodded. In his head, he was already packing his bags to drive back to London, the only thing on his mind being Y/N. He thanked Y/M/N and rushed back to Anne's house. When he entered, there was someone else waiting for him. Harry was confused as to why his girlfriend was standing in the middle of Anne's living room with a suitcase next to her.

"Camille?" He asked, approaching the woman.

"Hi, baby." She went for a kiss but Harry was too confused to return it. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, don't be rude. I came to surprise you. Now, get my suitcase upstairs, please"

He wanted to tell her he had to leave, fix things with his best friend, but somehow words didn't come out when he opened his mouth. Maybe it was because Camille would start to ask questions, and it wouldn't be the first time she'd accuse Harry to pick Y/N over her, so he kept quiet.

Anne was throwing him looks, silently asking why he hasn't talk to Y/N like he promised he would. Now, don't get her wrong, she was her son's biggest supporter and although she shared with Y/N almost the same opinion about Camille, Anne chose to not say anything and try to make an effort to like the girl.

Harry stayed the whole week in his hometown with his girlfriend, pushing the thought of Y/N at the very back of his head. He tried sending her messages but she never answered them, he tried calling but it always went straight to voicemail. If Harry wouldn't stop by her childhood home to ask her mother about her during his morning runs, he wouldn't have any idea of how she was.

By the end of the week, Harry was finally packing his bags, ready to go. What he wasn't counting on was Camille telling him they'd go back to Los Angeles.

"It's one dinner, Camille." He told her.

"But i really want to go. I've already told everyone we'd be there." She insisted. Harry didn't want to fly all the way to LA just for one stupid dinner with a bunch of people he didn't like. "Do you have anything more important to do or what?"

"I..." He paused. "I have to talk to Y/N."

"Then call her like you always do." She rolled her eyes, growing annoyed.

"It's kind of an important conversation, actually. I can't do that over the phone."

"Who's your girlfriend, uh? Because you're always ready to drop anything to go after her like a lost puppy!"

"That is not true. She's my best friend, Camille. I've known her since we were six."

"Well, i don't like her." She crossed her arms, staring at Harry. He shifted uncomfortably on his place, not knowing what to say. "Do you love her?"

"Of course i do." He said immediately. Camille raised her eyebrows, making him quickly add. "But not in the way you're thinking. We're just... close. Always been."

"Perhaps a little too close."

"What do you supposing?" Harry furrowed his eyebrows.

"If you want this to work then you need to spend less time with her, Harry. I won't compete with her, do you understand?" She stated.

Harry didn't know what to say. She was giving him an ultimatum he wasn't sure he could do. Stay away from Y/N was never something that crossed out of his mind, ever. He didn't want to stop seeing his best friend but he didn't want to break up with Camille either.

Sighing while putting his suitcase down, Harry nodded. Camille smiled, pleased with his decision. "I do this for us, babe. This weird codependency you two have needs to stop. We're only going to grow closer, you'll see."

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: 

It was like that, how a few days turned into a few weeks that then turned into months of no communication between Harry and Y/N.

Gemma had heard the entire argument that day, and she still was surprised and shocked with her brother's choice. She had called Y/N to tell her, hoping she would make Harry understand how wrong he was, but all she received was silence from the other end of the line, followed by a quiet 'thank you for telling me' before Y/N hung up.

To her, Camille made him choose. And he chose his girlfriend over her. She wanted to be mad, she wanted to cry and throw things, but she couldn't. Instead she respected Harry's decision, like she always does. She wasn't sure how she'd erase over fifteen years of friendship, but she'd try her best if that meant Harry would be happy, even if that didn't include her in his life anymore.

To Harry, things only went worse. Every day he woke up feeling emptier and emptier. He was angry all the time, never wanted to go out or do anything besides giving his concerts then going straight to his bedroom to go back being miserable. He couldn't recognize himself in the mirror, him and everyone else around him.

Every time Camille wanted to visit him, he'd throw a random excuse and say things were too busy. Of course she knew something was up and she knew exactly the reason why he was acting like he was. As he looked sadder and sadder in his concerts, fans started to wonder what had happened to him. Some assumed they broke up, and deep down Harry wanted those rumors to be true. But if Camille disappeared from his life, then he'd be completely alone. He no longer had the one person that has always been there aside from his mum and sister. He no longer had that one person that was the exactly reflection of who he was. He no longer had Y/N, and he wasn't ready to admit out loud he was the only one to blame for that.

During those darks, lonely months he realized something. Every relationship he's ever had in the past, never worked because Y/N was always in his mind. Y/N wouldn't say this, Y/N wouldn't do this, Y/N wouldn't be like this. His past partners never made the cut because he'd always compare them to the best person in his life. He didn't see it back then, but now he did.

He was in love. Truly, madly, deeply and foolishly in love with his best friend.

A couple of shows before tour ended, Camille decided to surprise Harry and fly all the way from LA to whatever city he was in. When he opened the door of his hotel bedroom, he was confused to see her standing there. "Surprise!" She exclaimed, throwing herself at him.

"Camille, what are you doing?"

"Uh, surprising you?" She said in an obvious tone. "Jesus Christ, at least pretend you're happy to see me."

"I'm sorry. How was your flight?"

Harry welcomed her into his room, wheeling her suitcase by the end of the bed. His room was kind of a mess because yesterday he drank too much and became a complete train wreck. Camille looked around, scanning the mess they were standing in but didn't say anything.

He had a concert to do that night, and they had to be at the arena so Harry could get ready. There wasn't much Camille could do besides sitting in his dressing room and wait for him. During all the night, he seemed slightly off, distracted thinking about Camille. Seeing her kind of triggered all the memories from Y/N and that night at his mother's house that he was yet to apologize for.

In his mind, he blamed her for everything. However deep down he knew he was responsible for that. There were so many other way he could've handled the situation, but back then he didn't think straight, he thought what he had with Camille was worth losing Y/N. Bad thing he learned too late nothing was worth losing her.

"I want to go out tonight." She had told him after his concert ended. "We can go to a club or something."

"I'm not really in the mood for clubbing."

"Then let's go have dinner."

"Not hungry either." He said as he opened the door of the hotel room.

"Then what do you want?"

"I'd like to take a shower and sleep." Harry started unbuttoning his shirt, dropping it off on the floor when he was done.

"Don't be boring. I didn't come here to sit around and do nothing fun."

"I didn't ask you to come." He blurted in a harsh tone. "I'm not in the mood, Camille."

"Is this because you're not friends with Y/N anymore?" She asked, crossing her arms across her chest. "I thought you'd get over it, Harry."

"Well, I won't!"

"I can't believe after all this time, i'm still competing with her for your fucking attention!"

"What else do you want from me, Camille?!I turned my back on her for you! What else do you want me to do?!"

"I want you to understand your life does not revolve around her! I'm your bloody girlfriend, dammit!" She shouted angrily. "Your obsession over her is not healthy. I did everything i could to make you see that. She doesn't understand it either. God, i even went as far as deleting your history call because i knew... i knew at the first opportunity you'd jump on a plane to her fucking rescue."

"You did... what?" He barked angrily. Suddenly it all made sense. Y/N was mad at him because she thought Harry was ignoring her when in reality Harry never saw her missing calls. Camille's eyes widened, she knew she said too much. "Why the hell would you do something like that?! You didn't have any right to go through my phone like that."

"I did it for-"

"Cut the crap! You didn't do it for me. I can't believe you're this psychotic kind of person. Do you have any idea how much your stupid actions coasted me?!" She stayed silent. "Answer me!" Harry shouted, completely furious.

Several knocks were heard by the other side of the door, followed by Jeff's voice telling Harry to let him in. "What is happening in here? I can hear your screams from my room." He said once the curly haired man let him in.

"Please book a room for Camille and a flight for tomorrow morning for her."

"Harry..." Camille tried to touch his arm.

"No. I'm done with this, with you, with everything.

Harry stormed out of the room, in desperate need of fresh air. He had way too many things on his plate right now, but somehow he felt more relieved now that he wasn’t with Camille anymore. It took him too long to realize he didn’t love her, and the only person he’s ever loved has been always right in front of him.

When he came back to his room, Camille’s things were gone and the room was once again clean. He figured Jeff sent someone to clean it up or something, either way he was grateful. His mind started going places he hasn’t allowed it to go in a long time, old memories with Y/N started rushing through his mind, then he started thinking on how things would be if he never made that stupid choice of giving up on her.

He wanted her back, he just didn’t know how. He wouldn’t blame her if he didn’t want to know anything about him as he felt like the most undeserving person of her love.

He started counting down the days that were left before he could go back to London and do everything in his power to get her back, silently promising her that this time, he will not fuck it up.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

First thing Harry did after he gave his last concert, was book the first flight back to London. He asked Gemma to go pick him up from the airport and take him to Y/N’s house. At first, she thought he was crazy but then she heard how desperate he was and she accepted.

“I love you, little brother but you absolutely fucked it up.” She told him as she was driving. “How could you let her manipulate you into stopping talking with Y/N?”

“I don’t know, Gem.” He sighed. “I made a mistake, okay?”

“Do you love her?” Gemma asked the same question months back Camille asked. However, instead of using a harsh tone like his now ex-girlfriend did, Gemma’s tone was soft. Almost as she was afraid to ask the question. The difference was, Harry wasn’t afraid of the answer anymore.

“I do.”

He looked through the window, lost in thought. Gemma nodded to herself, satisfied with his answer. It was about goddamn time, she thought. She crossed her fingers Y/N would at least listen to what Harry had to say as she’d hate if all those years of knowing each other were suddenly trashed away.

Gemma barely parked the car before Harry jumped out of it. “Do you want me to wait?”

Harry shook his head, flashing her a little smile. “It might take a while. At least she’s home.” He pointed at her car, parked in the driveway. “Thank you, Gem.”

“Good luck, lovebird.” She smiled before driving away. Harry let out a big sigh before walking towards her front door. He knocked a couple of times and he could hear her dogs bark from the other side of the door.

Y/N opened the door but froze in her place as soon as she saw him. He opened his mouth but before he could say something, Y/N was already trying to close the door.

He put his foot to prevent it from closing. “Wait!”

“No. What are you doing here, Harry?” She tried to close the door again. “Please, leave.”

“Y/N please, I made a mistake.” He begged.

“Did you now?”

“Please, let me in. I can explain everything, just… please.” He said in a sad tone. Y/N looked at him. He hasn’t shaved his face and his hair was all over the place, his emerald eyes weren’t bright anymore. He just looked… sad.

A big part of her wanted to open the door for him to enter, but another part of her didn’t want to. For the past months, Y/N has really worked on making sure she knew her worth at all times. That no Seths and No Harrys were worth of her tears. She had to live with the fact that she lost both at the same time, making the whole in her heart even bigger.

In any other circumstances, she wouldn’t hesitate on letting him in. But that was the old Y/N. The one who put him above everything else, including herself. That Y/N wasn’t her anymore.  

“Harry…” She started saying. “I’m not ready.”

He looked up at her, his eyes were red from containing the tears, and although he wanted to say more, he respected her decision. “Would you let me know when you are?” All he wanted was a sight that there still was hope for them, and she could see it in his eyes, so she nodded.

“We’ll talk about it… soon. Just not now.”

A few weeks passed since that day and Harry lived every day hopping his phone would ring. He’d send little texts here and there for her, a way of letting her know he still cared and that he wasn’t giving up.

Dragging himself out of the house for the first time in weeks, Harry decided to go to the little coffee shop he used to frequent with Y/N in the past. They served the best coffee according to her, not like all the other overpriced cafés in London.

He smiled at the memory as he entered the place, going straight to make his order. His mind was too focused on other things that he didn’t realize he also ordered Y/N’s usual.

Now he had two coffees and a chocolate muffin, but it was just him there. He looked down at the order again, it made him feel like the old times where he’d stop by the shop before going to Y/N’s to hang out.

Without thinking about it twice, he hopped in his car again and drove in autopilot to her house. He hopped these past weeks had been enough for her to feel ready to talk.

“Hello, Harry.” She said, more relaxed this time as she opened the door.

“May I come in?” He asked. “I… I brought your favorite.”

She gave him a half smile, opening the door enough for him to come inside. He was immediately greeted by her two dogs and the very familiar sight of her home where he’s spent more times than he could ever remember.

“I was hoping we could talk.” He started. “I know there’s a big… big stain in our friendship now and believe when I say I would spend the rest of my life trying to erase it.”

“Why didn’t you go after me that night at your mum’s house?” She finally said after being silent.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me. I went to your mother’s house the next morning and found out you were gone.”

“I waited for you in my car. I thought we could talk it through but then… then Gemma called me and told me Camille gave you an ultimatum. I backed off because I didn’t want to ruin your relationship, Harry.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, Y/N. I did. I should’ve listened to you instead of screaming at you. I said horrible things to you and I’m so sorry. I should’ve play more attention on how were you feeling. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.”

She pressed her lips in a thin line, swallowing her tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t support you on your relationship.”

“It’s okay. It’s over.” He said. “I found out she deleted your calls from my phone so I wouldn’t come here to be with you.”

“She told you that?” Y/N was surprised. She had thought about it, but never imagined Camille would admit it.

“She did. I let her manipulate me, but I know it was my fault too. I shouldn’t have let her come between us.”

“She was your girlfriend, Harry. Maybe she was right…” She mumbled, making him frown.

“What do you mean?”

“Harry, all your girlfriends have told you they didn’t like me or the relationship we had. Have you ever thought that’s exactly why your relationships wouldn’t work? You can’t keep choosing me over your partners.”

“Yes, I can.” He insisted.

“No. Perhaps we should’ve keep our paths separated.”

“What? No!” He stood up from the couch and so did Y/N. “Y/N, you can’t ask me to forget about you.”

“Maybe it’s for the best.”

“Says who? I won’t walk away from you, not again. I should’ve done a lot of things since that night, I should’ve known you were right, I should’ve been there for you.” He looked at her with tearful eyes. “I shouldn’t have let you walk away from me. I should’ve… I should’ve…”

His breath hitched, becoming aware of how close they were from each other now. Their noses almost touched as they looked into each other’s eyes, eyes that were full of emotion such as anger, sadness… love.

“I should’ve done this a long time ago.” He whispered before finally closing the distance between them. Y/N gasped before kissing him back with force. She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him closer to her and deepening the kiss.

Kissing her felt so foreign yet so right. It was like all the pieces of the puzzle were coming together and he finally knew it was her all along. The only person that’s always been on his mind and the only one who held his entire heart, it was her.

It was only when they were running out of breath when they finally broke the kiss, but didn’t dare to broke the nonexistent distance between them. Y/N smiled for the first time he walked inside of the house, her eyes were notably brighter and she couldn’t help but let out a little giggle, feeling like a school girl again.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it, but I swear I’ll remind you every day of your life how much I do.”

[yandere-society]

Sugar Rush

Synopsis: You thought the breakup had gone well, but your ex-girlfriend Yoonji didn’t seem to get the message. When you go out with friends to party on Halloween night, you encounter Yoonji in an unexpected way – and you discover just how far she’ll go to get you back.  

Pairing: Min Yoonji x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Yandere themes, blood/mentions of blood, stalking, restraints, safeword violation, torture, suicide mention, gore

Headline: Woman In Sumo Wrestler Suit Assaulted Ex-Girlfriend In Gay Pub After She Waved At Man Dressed As A Snickers Bar

Admin: @psycho-slytherin​

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Ooh – gah!”

“Y/n?” Mia pokes her head into the kitchen. Her pupils are pure black, and she looks to be crying blood. “What happened?”

“Ugh, I think my mom sent me these roses and I pricked myself on a thorn,” you reply, sucking on your bleeding finger irritably. You lay down the card that came with the bouquet, which reads See you soon! “You look great.”

“Thanks! I’m a student.” Mia steps forward to reveal a school uniform shirt, sweatpants, and flip-flops. 

“Uh…”

“Cause I’m stu-dying, get it?”

You snort. “Very nice.”

“What are you? You haven’t changed!”

You sigh. “I don’t think I’m going to dress up.” You can’t shake Halloween’s association with her.

“What? But 66 Below has their ‘free drink for a costume’ thing going on. C’mon, why not?”

You shrug, looking at your bleeding finger. Roses always seem to have it out for you. “It was our anniversary.”

“Wait, is this about Yoonji? Y/n, you broke up with her! If you regret it so much, get back together. The girl was head over heels with you, I’m sure she’d be down.”

You shake your head. “I’m not getting back together with her. Definitely not.” You and Yoonji were together for three years, long enough that you had started wondering if it would turn into forever. As time went on, however, you began to notice unnerving little quirks in her behavior. She was scaring you, and you ended things soon after. “Besides, she was always so neurotic that I would cheat on her with a guy.”

Mia rolls her eyes. “Biphobia at its finest. Well, fuck Yoonji. It’s been months �� now get dressed. It’s Halloween, and we’re going out! Besides, Aisha is meeting us there.”

You laugh. “I don’t have a costume.”

“I have an extra that I brought with me – it’s an unnecessarily sexy angel, it didn’t fit my sister. Try it!”

Angel. That was Yoonji’s name for you. You sigh, dragging yourself away from the traitorous roses and following Mia down the hall.

Soon enough, Mia is putting the final touches on your makeup. “Ooh, you’re glowing!”

“I don’t know why you sound surprised when it’s your fault,” you retort before catching a look at yourself in the mirror.

You’re wearing a white silky babydoll dress – the kind that you’d only wear in the bedroom. She’d love it. You’re sporting white fishnets and feathered wings, with a golden headband resembling a halo to complete the look. Mia has done your makeup expertly, with lots of rose and gold, so that you look perfectly angelic. You add your favorite rainbow earrings for some added pride. Still, the outfit…

“Isn’t this a little… risque?” Yoonji would never let you wear something like this out.

“I don’t want anyone else laying eyes on my angel,” she would croon in your ear. “You’re all mine. I’ll never let anyone else touch you.”

“It’s Halloween, Y/n, as long as the goods are covered you’re set.”

You peer out of the window. The sun has set, and groups of kids are out in spades for trick-or-treating. You used to love Halloween – it had always been your favorite holiday, long before you and Yoonji made it official four years ago.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

She stared at you for a long time. “Do you promise never to cheat? You’ll be loyal to me alone?”

You laughed. “Of course! I like you, I want to date you!

“In that case…” She leaned forward and kissed you. Her vampire costume meant you got fake blood all over your lips. “Happy Halloween, angel.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Mia nods. Her black contact lenses are… well, they’re not unintimidating. You’re glad to be able to spend this Halloween with her, and not worry about your ex-girlfriend.

66 Below has long been your and Mia’s favorite LGBTQ bar. With its live music, pride flags, and vintage decor, you feel as though you’re stepping into an extra-queer period piece.Yoonji never liked it; she thought it was too crowded. Tonight, almost everyone is dressed up in costume, enjoying 66 Below’s 'first drink free’ policy.

“Mia! Y/n! Over here!” Mia’s girlfriend Aisha gets your attention, waving at you from a booth. You’ve never encountered a more loving couple, and you know Mia’s planning on proposing to her soon. Aisha is dressed as… “Wait, what is she wearing?” You ask as you and Mia join her. Aisha looks like she printed a graded school paper onto white clothing, complete with red marks and typos. Over her heart is a big red F. In response to your quizzical glance, Aisha points to the F.

“Geddit? I’m a failing grade! I specifically wanted to be a final exam, but…”

You laugh. Mia and Aisha must have coordinated that. You scan the bar and note you’re not the only angel. There’s also some devils, ghosts, animals, anime characters, Iron Man, a Snickers bar, two Harry Potters, and – of course – inappropriately sexy children’s cartoon characters. You love Halloween.

“Y/n, c’mon, let’s grab drinks,” Mia says, but her eyes seem unwilling to leave Aisha’s. Their love reminds you of yours… or, what you thought was love. Towards the end of your relationship, you began to realize Yoonji’s idea of love was very different from yours.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get yours. What do you want?”

“You sure?” When you nod, Mia reels off her order. You approach the bar, smiling at your favorite bartender. “Hey, Jaewon!” 

“Do mine eyes deceive me, or is that Y/n beneath the halo?”

Jaewon pretends to be blinded. He’s dressed as what you can only assume is slutty Mario.

“Shush, you. I’ll have an IPA and a margarita, please.”

“Sure thing.”

As you’re waiting for your drinks, the person in the Snickers costume slides into the seat next to you. “Nice costume, angel.”

You stare at him, a brow raised. If you weren’t at a gay bar, you’d think he was flirting. “Thanks, Snickers.”

“Who are you here with?”

You nod at the booth, where Mia and Aisha are now kissing intensely.

“Y’all poly or are you third wheeling?”

You laugh. “The latter. I’m not the relationship type.” Not anymore. Not after you realized how you were so easily manipulated into thinking Yoonji’s behavior was love. But the way she would kiss you, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, tangling her hand in your hair…

“Yeah, I get you. Couples’ costumes are scary by default to me,” the Snickers jokes. “Perfect for Halloween. I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

“Y/n. Are you here with anyone?”

Namjoon glances around. “I was here with my buddy, but I think he left to fuck one of the Harry Potters. Which is funny, now that I think about it, since he was dressed as Dumbledore.”

You snort. “Oh my god. Well, if you want a group to join, I’ll be third-wheeling over there.” Jaewon reappears with your drinks and a wink.

“I might just take you up on that, angel. Happy Halloween!”

“Hey!” Mia says, finally coming up for air. Miraculously, her bloody tears have stayed put. “Who was that guy you were talking to? He seemed cute!”

“He’s probably gay,” you remind your friend. “He was sweet, though, I invited him to come over if he wanted to – his friend left him. Is that okay?”

Mia and Aisha glance at each other. “Actually, we were wondering…”

You look at the two suspiciously. “Yes?”

“There’s this event happening at 4Sooth,” Aisha says, referencing another bar downtown, “Where the best couples’ costume gets a cash prize. We were thinking… well, zombie student, failing grade…”

Oh. Why did you come here in the first place, then?

“Yeah, you guys totally have a chance!” You offer with as much enthusiasm as you can muster. “Should we go there?”

“The thing is…” Aisha looks at Mia, who shows you the event announcement on her phone.

“Well, the other prize is a night in the ‘Halloween Suite’ at the hotel next door, y’know?” Mia says quickly, a note of pleading in her voice.

Ohhhh. “Right, okay. So… I’ll just stay here, then.”

“Are you sure?” Mia asks anxiously. You can see her on the fence between guilt and excitement.

“Yeah, it’s fine!” You insist. “I’m good at making friends. Have fun!” Just because you have to be alone on Halloween, doesn’t mean Mia and Aisha can’t have a good time.

“You’re the best, Y/n, I owe you!” Mia gives you a quick kiss on each cheek before she and Aisha head out. As soon as they’re out of sight, your smile slips from your face and you sigh, nursing your beer. It’s Halloween, what would have been your and Yoonji’s fourth anniversary, and you’re alone at a bar. Pathetic. You turn to costume-watching, admiring the Big Bird, Dorthy from The Wizard of Oz, a sumo wrestler, and several queer or genderbent characters from all sorts of media.

Namjoon, the Snickers, is looking at you from his seat at the bar. He raises a quizzical brow at the now-empty booth, and you roll your eyes and shake your head in response.

He purses his lips, tipping his glass in acknowledgement.

Wonderful. A bar of candy pities me. You wave, motioning for Namjoon to come join you. You were both alone – why not?

Almost as soon as you lower your hand, several things happen at once: a blur of tan crosses your vision; you hear a loud BANG, and feel a sudden, incomprehensible, searing pain shoot through the back of your head; something warm trickles down your face; there are lips against your ear, whispering words you can’t understand; far-off shouts and screams; and the world goes dark.

“Told you that you’d cheat… you’re just a whore for them… but now you’re all mine again.”

“Mmnn…” you groan, blinking hard. Your head hurts – everything hurts. You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. You’re lying on something soft. Did you go to bed? You move to rub your temple, but your wrist is tugged back by… rope. Rope? Your eyes widen and you begin to struggle furiously against the restraints, yanking until you feel your hands are going to detach themselves. “What the fuck?” Your wrists are tied to bedposts. Shit. Were you drugged? Was it Jaewon the bartender? “HELP! Somebody! Help me!” Your shoes are gone, and – oh, no – your white dress is stained and splattered with blood. Yours? When you try to pull yourself up, your vision floats before you. You can feel warm blood trickling down your head, tickling your scalp. You fall back onto the pillow, trying to force your vision to focus. “Help me…”

Suddenly, you hear heavy footsteps, and a voice that makes you freeze.

“Looks like I nabbed myself a pretty little angel. Talk about fallen from grace, right?”

Your cries for help freeze in your throat. “Yoonji?”

And in walks your ex-girlfriend, the blow-up sumo wrestling suit deflating around her. That flash of tan… so she was there, at 66 Below. Her pristine black bob hasn’t changed in the last few months, and her makeup is perfectly done. As the suit empties, she steps out of it, wearing her favorite outfit of black tights and skirt with a cream blouse.

“Let me go,” you croak. Your heart feels like it’s being squeezed in her fist. Your fighting spirit seems to have evaporated in the face of the woman you once loved. It doesn’t make sense… or does it make too much sense? You knew she was possessive – it’s why you ended things. But this? “Yoonji… please. Please.”

Yoonji pretends not to hear you, instead walking around the bed to inspect your restraints. Of course, now that you’ve collected yourself, you recognize her bedroom. In fact, it’s not your first time being tied to these same bedposts.

“Red. Yoonji, please, red,” you try desperately, hoping the safeword might make her relent. For a moment, her cool expression falters. It’s quickly replaced with raw fury.

“You want to try calling red?” She snarls, looking right at you. “You cheated on me. You broke up with me!”

“I never cheated!” You cry, kicking out at her in vain. “You always thought I was cheating on you – I didn’t do anything!”

“I saw you,” she replies, raising a hand and bringing it down hard on your cheek. Your head jerks to the side and you can taste blood. Your face is on fire, it must be, how can it hurt so badly? “It’s our anniversary. I saw you wave at that candy bar.” Another slap leaves your jaw aching. “Fucking whore, do you flirt with every man you see? Girls like you can never be faithful.”

“We’re not together anymore!” You yell, pulling hard on the ropes. They’re much stronger and more coarse than any Yoonji has used with you before, and you bite back a yelp of pain at the rope burn. Your head hurts so much, and your chest is heaving with anxiety. Is she going to kill you? “You’re insane. Let me go – they’ll find out I’m gone. They’ll call the police.” After you and Yoonji broke up, you moved in with Mia. Surely she’ll be concerned when you don’t show up.

Yoonji laughs softly. It’s the way she would laugh when she had a secret. “Well… you did text your housemate to tell her you were going home with the Snickers bar. She’s not expecting you – and that contest is going to keep her at the hotel all night anyways.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. How does she know? “What text? Where’s my phone?”

Yoonji lazily fishes your phone from her pocket. “You really haven’t changed your password?”

“Give that back! Let me go!” You twist your hips and kick hard in her direction, scoring a tiny victory when your phone goes flying from Yoonji’s hand. In the split second that she’s leaned over to retrieve it, you try to see if you can feel any slack at all in the ropes binding your wrists. Yes! There’s something. Maybe your situation isn’t hopeless after all.

Your spirits fall by the wayside when you see Yoonji rise with a terrifying smile on her face. “What a frisky angel, you like to kick, don’t you? Maybe I should tie those lovely legs too.”

“No- don’t touch me! Yoonji, c’mon…” your voice breaks when you see her pull a length of rope from her closet. “W-what are you going to do with me?”

“What am I going to do with you? Exactly what I’ve always wanted to. I’m going to make sure no one else will ever touch you again. You’re mine, angel, you always have been.” Yoonji reaches for your legs and you kick wildly, desperate to escape. Your heart feels like a racehorse in your chest, and sheer adrenaline numbs the throbbing pain in your head.

“Stop… struggling!” Yoonji hisses furiously as she makes a grab for your foot. “Ungrateful bitch. Why are you always trying to get away from me? All I did was love you!”

Now. You slam your heel into her chin, and her head snaps upward with the force of your kick.

For a second you feel like she’s about to crumple to the ground, but instead she lowers her gaze to stare into your soul once more.

“That wasn’t very nice.” Yoonji massages her jaw, and when she speaks, blood drips from between her lips. She begins to pace around the bed, avoiding your kicks. “Bad angel… maybe you’re just a devil in disguise, huh? I always knew you were a dirty fucking liar. And you didn’t even say thank you for the roses.”

The roses? Your eyes widen. See you soon. They were from her? “Fuck you,” You say in response, surreptitiously tugging and relaxing the slack on your right hand’s rope. “I never cheated. You were just scared that I could love men and women. Well, guess what? I loved you! For years, until I realized you never loved me back.”

“What?” You see horror cloud Yoonji’s face. “You fucking bitch. ALL I did was love you!”

You shake your head, determined to keep her talking. She’s out of range of your kicks for now. If you could just get your hands free…

You feel suddenly woozy. Are there two… no, three Yoonjis? Shit. Now is not the time for a concussion.

“You never loved me. You were obsessed and insane. Don’t you hear yourself?” You say, your volume increasing. You know the walls are well-insulated, but she’s still in an apartment complex. Maybe the neighbors will hear? Another tug on the rope. You twist your wrist, and for a second you can feel it loosening. “You only wanted me so that no one else could have me!”

“You’re lying.” Maybe it’s a reflection of your bloody dress, or the blood dripping from her mouth, but for a second her eyes seem to shine red.

You shake your head. You’ve almost got a hand free. “You’re the one who’s lying, Yoonji. You’re lying to yourself.” Dizzy again. “You – ngh – you can just let me go. I won’t tell anyone.” Almost got a hand free. How long has it been?

Suddenly Yoonji is looming over you. “Ah, but you forgot.” She spits at you, and a mouthful of scarlet blood hits the white pillowcase. Some of it splatters on your cheek. You keep tugging at the tie around your left hand. It’s much tighter than your right. She’s rummaging in her bedside drawer, and that look in her eyes… you’re scared. “I might’ve let an angel go, but you decided you’re not an angel. You’re a devil. And where do devils belong?”

“Uh…”

“That’s right.” Yoonji shows you what she’s retrieved: a lighter. She walks around the bed to the bottom right corner of the duvet. “Devils like you should stay in hell.”

“Yoonji. Yoonji, what are you –” She lowers the lighter to the duvet, and you see the cloth begin to smoke before a small flame forms on the bed, flickering but gaining in strength. “YOONJI!”

“I told you, Y/n.” Her voice is lower than you’ve ever heard it as she wipes more blood from her chin. “I’ll never let anyone touch you again.”

“C’mon, please, this is too much,” you say, your voice bleeding into hysteria as you thrash around, trying to kick the burning blanket away from your body. The fire begins to grow, and in your frenzied movement you accidentally burn your foot. You jerk away, yanking at the ropes on your wrists. You’re wearing fishnet stockings – if those catch fire, it’ll travel all the way up your body in a flash. “Let me go! Let me go, you psycho!”

Yoonji makes a pouty face. “Poor baby. Let you go… or what?”

“Please!” You shriek as the fire grows, the smoke now visibly rising from the bed. “Yoonji, I’m sorry, please, please…”

“I missed hearing you beg, my love. What a delicious Halloween treat. And if you need to blame anyone…” Yoonji pauses and smiles. The blood has gotten between her teeth, giving her a terrifying undead look. “Blame that Snickers bar.”

With that, she leaves the room and closes the door behind her. Fuck. You tug furiously at your right hand, where the rope has significantly loosened. You can feel the heat from the flames, dangerously close to you. “C’mon, c’mon…” You’re not going to die here, what a terrible headline. Who would write your obituary? You fight through another wave of dizziness. “Fucking hell!” With effort that leaves your muscles trembling, you wriggle your right hand out of its ties, and it quickly flies to your other hand. Maybe you’ll survive.

Unless she locked the door. Yoonji is four floors up. From that height…

You quickly work through the knots on your left wrist, which Yoonji tied so tightly you can’t feel several of your fingers anymore. Faster. Your nails are broken from tearing at the rope, and at one point the nail on your middle finger catches and gets stuck fast in the rope. The fire has spread to the carpet, and thick, black smoke is billowing up. You take a deep breath and brace yourself for the pain – it’s nothing compared to burning alive – and yank your hand back.

“Gah!” It’s a furious pain, for so small a point. The fingernail is ripped off your finger and hangs there as your nail bed bleeds freely. You force yourself to keep moving, to undo the knot or rip the rope off completely but the pain makes it hard to breathe…  or is it the smoke quickly filling the air? With movements made jerky by panic, you at last find a loose end and pull it through the knot. The rope around your wrist loosens and you’re able to slip your hand out. You’re not going to think about the fact that you can’t feel three of your fingers or move them properly. You’re free. You look around wildly, rushing for the door. You rattle the handle, but it’s locked. You can try to kick through it? But what if Yoonji is on the other side of the door, and shoves you back into the flames? The window next to the bed is locked too. But… You bend down and, straining, lift her entire bedside nightstand up. As soon as you stand your legs wobble and threaten to collapse, and you feel blood continue to drip down your neck and back. You stumble, almost to the window, but–

“Ugh-” You lose your grip and the nightstand crashes to the floor, almost on your foot. At that moment, you’re tempted to break down completely. What if you just… gave up? If you go through the window, you’ll probably die in the fall. Through the door, if you can even kick it down, and Yoonji will surely be waiting for you. You could just stay here, where at least death is a merciful certainty.

No – what are you thinking? You have to live. If you die, Yoonji will be free, and you won’t be able to tell your story. If you die now… she wins.

You adjust your stance and, arms trembling, lift the nightstand once more. The air is getting harder to breathe, you don’t know how much longer you have. You heave the nightstand at the window and it crashes straight through the glass, smashing down onto the street four stories below. Wait – the street. It must only be a little past midnight, because you can see some teens and adults still walking the street in costume. Passersby!

“HELP!” You shriek, waving your hand. You’re cut and bleeding in several places from flying glass, and you surely look fit for Halloween.

Wait. Hang on. One of the adults laughs and points up at you. “Great costume!” he yells.

“No, no, no…” the smoke is getting thicker, the fire closer. “Please- please help!” What you need to be a strong yell comes out a broken sob. “There’s a fire! Please help me!”

Two groups seem to realize it’s not just a Halloween prank, and you see some people whip out their phones to call the police. Several more rush forward, but clearly have no plan other than to stand beneath the window.

The police will take too long. You blink through the smoke, which is now visible through the window. You will not burn alive. And you won’t let Yoonji walk free, not after this. You brush the broken glass away from the windowsill and carefully step onto the ledge, a bleeding angel in the night. Your wings and white dress glow in such contrast to the walls that it looks like you’re flying.

You hear gasps and screams, and a “Don’t jump!”

Idiot. As though you have a choice. No, you only have one choice left, and you’re making it count. “My name is Y/n L/n,” You yell, forcing down a smoky cough, “And the person who killed me is Min Yoonji!”

No time to think. You step forward off the ledge, closing your eyes. Forty feet isn’t that far to fall, maybe you’ll make it.

Fucking Snickers bar.

[petrichxxr]

can we talk again | l.hj

A/N: this is a veeeeery belated birthday gift for @letteredwings​, happy birthday bub! I love you a lot!

Word Count: 15,304

Genre: mutual pining, light fluff, romance, and angst 

Pairing: fem!reader x lee hyunjae (the boyz)

Warnings: lots of mutual pining and me rambling trying to get it right. also please keep in mind this is a work of fiction and the way certain members of tbz are depicted are simply that: fictional, and do not reflect my views of them.

Summary: After the sudden break-up of a three year relationship that leads you back home to your family and friends, Hyunjae vows that he’ll give you the time and space you need to heal without letting his own feelings get in the way. But what he doesn’t know is that you, too, share similar feelings—and now that you’re back in each other’s presences, it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to keep emotions at bay.

Certain feelings just couldn’t be described in words, no matter how hard one tried. Or, in the very least—they could not be described to the extent that they were felt. Every word in every language could be used, with as many descriptors and synonyms as possible, to convey the emotions. The notion of what was being conveyed, ultimately, was understood. Sometimes, though, even those words never truly matched up to that exact feeling, even when described down to the finest detail, as accurately as possible. It would only ever be accurate to that specific person. No single person would ever feel the same thing—the exact same way—even if the emotion was universal.

 To Hyunjae, you were something akin to the universe. To the night sky and the way the stars were littered about the darkest places of the earth, yet shining so brightly and beautifully. Something akin to a supernova and the way light scattered, breaking, igniting in the sky. Vast, with depths that couldn’t be touched no matter how far you might reach. The way you smiled and the way you laughed filled Hyunjae with that sort of emotion—but that wasn’t something he could so easily convey. It wasn’t something that, even when he put it into words—even if he described it as exactly that—made sense. It didn’t quite feel right falling from the tip of his tongue, almost foreign; it didn’t correctly describe the way his chest clenched or the way his breath would catch within said cavity of that chest. It barely even glossed on the fact that his heart would lurch into his throat and he’d feel an ache he couldn’t soothe.

 You were always just a fingertip’s length away from him. So far, yet so close.

For the longest time, describing such emotions had come so awkwardly to Hyunjae. He’d bit his tongue and suppressed them. Because you weren’t his, it felt as though his emotions weren’t rightfully his own to describe. Despite belonging to him, he couldn’t understand why he felt so confused—why it almost felt like he were robbing someone. Hyunjae had always felt if he were to put his emotions into words, if he were to make them tangible, then it might break the facade he’d put up; a marble, impenetrable wall. If that broke, he could only imagine the way that bright and beautiful universe might also fall apart.

 “If you don’t stop sighing, I’m going to think it’s you who just went through a breakup and not her.” Chanhee’s voice cuts through Hyunjae’s thoughts like a knife, breaking the silence he’d been drowning himself in for who knows how long.

 Almost immediately, he’s dragged back to reality and out of his trance. The sounds of the restaurant around them come flooding back into his senses—too fast, too loud. Almost overwhelming, having forgotten where he was at.

 “Why are you the one sighing, anyway? Shouldn’t you be happy about this?” Younghoon pipes up, where he sits next to Hyunjae. He nods at the unlocked phone on the table, the screen contents visible to everyone. It’s like a slap in the face to Hyunjae, seeing her name, and her photo—and her recently changed relationship status. “Anyway, who even updates their Facebook relationship status anymore? That’s a thing?”

 “Are you saying he should be a rebound guy?” Kevin blurts, without thinking. He’s not even looking up from his food as he mixes dishes together. Younghoon snorts at his words and Chanhee, sitting next to him, gives him an elbow to the rib. Kevin’s only reaction is to grunt, but he continues mixing.

 “He’s sighing because he hasn’t spoken to her in three years,” Chanhee is the one who replies, before Hyunjae can even fathom how to form a coherent thought and turn it into a comprehensible sentence. “And she changed her status as an announcement that she’s moving back from America.”

 “What?” Before Hyunjae can further consider how to form thoughts into any sort of verbal communication, that single word slips past his lips, like a rubber band snapping.

 Kevin pauses his stirring to look up in surprise, and Younghoon startles next to Hyunjae.

 Chanhee quirks a brow in surprise. “You didn’t know?”

 “You literally just explained that I haven’t spoken to her in three years. How the hell would I know?” Hyunjae purses his lips. “The most we’ve done is check in on each other. Casual chat, ‘hello’s’ and ‘how are you’s’ and conversations that drop dead after just a few replies.”

 How had it ended up that way? Hyunjae wonders, allowing his eyes to trail down from those sitting at the table around him to his food. He stills his hand, which had been mindlessly stirring chopsticks through ramen broth for who knows how long, now. How could he so easily have these feelings that were much larger and greater than anything he’d known in existence, yet so easily fall out of touch with you? How could he harbor these feelings for so long, despite the distance?

 Hyunjae couldn’t really place when things started to slip through his fingers—little bits and pieces of you and him and your memories together, grains of sand filtering through and scattering away in the wind. It had happened just like that. Unknowingly and quietly, too easily. How naturally it had come about, with neither of you expecting it or resisting the change, was almost concerning. Relationships were fickle things. They came and went in waves. Some were permanent, some fleeting, and some just happened to stick around longer than others. But how could a relationship of almost ten years just slowly dissipate like it did? How had childhood friends turned into almost strangers?

 “What are you going to do, then?” Chanhee asks.

 How could that question even be asked? Hyunjae frowns down at his food. It took two to keep a relationship going. As confused as he was about all that had happened—or rather, not happened—he himself was just as guilty for not holding up his end of the relationship through the years. As soon as you’d started dating him, things had just slowly fallen away. What was he meant to do? He was at fault, too. He shouldn’t have let your dating life get in the way. Who was he to just barge back in again?

 Hyunjae simply shrugs, fiddling with his chopsticks until he’s collected a portion of ramen to eat. “Nothing. It’s not really my place to do anything.”

—

That, of course, Hyunjae realized—was easier said than done. Two weeks later, with you standing in the same room as him, it was like he could feel the presence of your energy vibrating. He hadn’t interacted with you at all, choosing to distract himself with whatever was nearest to him any time you glanced his way. There were a few fleeting moments in which your eyes had locked, and Hyunjae felt as if everything in his chest was about to combust. It was as though all the emotions he’d thought he’d successfully suppressed had been reignited; though with the way they were slowly seeping out and making themself more known to him as the night went on, he’d describe it to something akin to a small leak in a dam.

 You, too, were hyper-aware of just how near Hyunjae was. Yet he felt so far away, as well, and you weren’t sure how to fix that. There was some sort of imaginary wall between you. There had been for years now, a tension slowly building up that you weren’t sure how to break through or knock down. You’d made a few attempts but pulled back, and had felt him doing the same—maybe it was mutual. But now, here you were back in Korea, standing at a welcoming party among all your closest friends and your childhood best friend, and he felt like a stranger. It was a wretched feeling. What was worse was the feeling of uncertainty, and not being sure how to fix it.

 Maybe it was just the alcohol in your system, but you were almost certain whenever you sought Hyunjae out in the crowd, you found him staring. You were almost certain that every time he’d catch you turning his way, or the few fleeting moments you’d made eye contact, Hyunjae would quickly glance away; would quickly bury himself in the crowd among friends and familiar faces. Had the two of you merely lost touch? Or was there more to it? Had you made some sort of mistake you hadn’t been aware of? You let out a sigh… you weren’t sure how to fix something broken with cracks you couldn’t see; and you weren’t sure what to apologize for if you weren’t aware of what was wrong.

 A sudden outburst from Chanhee, standing next to you, makes you startle in surprise and straight out of your thoughts. “I swear I’m going to prematurely age with all the sighing I’ve been hearing these last two weeks! And now you’re sighing too?!” He lets out a sigh of his own, paired with the pursing of his lips. “I swear if I get wrinkles—”

 You turn to look at Chanhee in surprise. “Two weeks of sighing? Who—?”

 “Who do you think?” Chanhee retorts, nodding in the direction that you’d most recently seen Hyunjae in. “Just go talk to him already. You know how he is, he’s not going to talk to you.”

 “But there’s no way that I can either. How in the world do you just go talk to someone you haven’t talked to in three years? If our conversations go anything like they did online…”

 “You’re overthinking.” The bluntness that Chanhee delivers this statement with surprises you, and then immediately has you on the defensive.

 “If I’m overthinking, then what is he doing?”

 “Also overthinking,” Chanhee replies, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It makes you scowl at him, which he reciprocates by pursing his lips again. “Look, you both have your own ways of overthinking things and you’ll just have to accept that. You sit here brooding and wondering, and he plays the avoidance game. But you’re both overthinking this entire thing. Are the two of you not childhood friends? It’s as easy and natural as that. You’ll be fine.”

 Avidly, you give your head a firm shake and look away from Chanhee. “I can’t. No way—”

 Just as you turn away, Chanhee grabs your wrist and pulls it towards him. He replaces the drink you’d had in your hand with a small shot glass. You stare at it a moment, bewildered, then glance up at him in surprise.

 “Just take a shot and go talk to him,” Chanhee gives you a smile. It’s a smile you’re familiar with, so used to seeing back in college. That fake I’m done with your shit smile that you’d never been on the receiving end of—until today.

 “The good news is,” Chanhee continues, giving your hand—now occupied with a shot glass—a little nudge. “You often turn to the consumption of alcohol when overthinking. Hyunjae doesn’t at all, so this will at least be easy for one of you. The better news is, he doesn’t turn to alcohol because he knows you do so his instincts to take care of you will immediately kick in if he sees you’re intoxicated, even a little.”

 “What kind of nonsense are you blabbering, Chanhee—”

 Of course, as much as you might describe it as nonsense, Chanhee wasn’t wrong. He’d been friends with the both of you for a long time, often stuck in the middle, and he knew exactly what he was talking about. You hated to admit it, but he had described both of your personalities—especially that negative portion, when it came to managing stress, worries, or an overactive brain that had a tendency to overthink—right on the head. Both of you had always been that way, equally hating confrontation. So you turned to drinking and brooding, until it bubbled over into a rant to get it all out. Hyunjae, meanwhile, liked to mope and avoid despite how much his thoughts might yell at him about all of the anxieties he had.

 He was definitely moping and avoiding right now, which made you further wonder what you’d done wrong, if anything. You wanted your best friend back; and though you might never word this part aloud to a single soul—you wanted your first crush back. The boy who’d claimed your heart with his honesty, tenderness, and kindness. The boy who was always there as a shoulder to lean on, the one who could always make you laugh without trying, the one who would come running to pick you up at three in the morning if you’d had too much to drink, and the one who when he smiled had the corners of his eyes crinkle with visible happiness.

 The boy who you were too scared to lose as a friend, so you’d driven a wedge between your heart and him, and never quite gave him the entirety of it. He’d always held it in such gentle hands, even as a friend. You were afraid to find out what might happen if he were to accidentally hurt it.

 But maybe the wedge is what you’d done wrong. Maybe he felt it. And when physical distance had been put between the two of you, maybe that’s how that wall had been built up. 

 “Just drink,” he urges again, giving your hand another little nudge, pushing it higher. “This is my party that I put together, the least you can do is listen to your friend’s request.”

 You frown at him. “You put this party together for me. To welcome me home.”

 “Yeah, well, I still put effort in. And my wish for repayment after all this hard work is for you to talk to Hyunjae again. You can either do that sober—limitedly, since you’ve already had drinks tonight—or you can do it after taking a fresh shot. Or I drag you across the room kicking and make you talk to him.”

 If possible, you feel your frown deepen. Muscles on your face you’d never put to use stretch further than they have before. But, without dwelling much further on the choices he’s given, you choose to down the contents of the shot glass in a quick go. You may as well get this over with while you still had a fresh dose of liquid courage. As you set the glass aside and step forward to push yourself through the crowd, you miss Chanhee’s smirk as he watches you go.

 Even with Hyunjae doing his absolute best to avoid you, you’re still able to easily find him among the crowd. Chanhee’s penthouse is small enough, and there aren’t many places that Hyunjae can go to hide, despite how well he may think he’s doing. You aren’t sure what exactly to do when you fully approach him—the idea of talking to him seemed awkward, especially after three years and some terrible instant message conversations and texts that barely kept the relationship held together. But by the time you’re just a few feet away from him, you realize you have to make an instant decision—and decide to allow your instincts to make it for you.

 Which leads to you stepping up to him, wrapping your arms around his torso in a hug. When you rest your head against his chest, you’re not entirely certain if it’s your heart you hear beating so loudly, or his.

 Hyunjae, of all things, hadn’t expected you to do that. There’d been nowhere for him to go when he saw you crossing the room. The two of you had already been making fleeing eye contact, and while he’d been wondering if you’d just pass the night and not reach out to him at all—since he wasn’t going to make any move to do so on his end—it was inevitable that you’d cross paths, at some point. Even if neither of you wanted to. A part of him hadn’t expected you to seek him out. Another part of him had been hopeful you would. However, Hyunjae hadn’t anticipated this sort of instance happening. He’d also had no time to mentally prepare. As soon as he’d seen you break apart from your comfort zone next to Chanhee’s side, crossing the room with your sights set on him—his mind had gone blank. He’s certain up until the point where you’d crashed against his chest, he’d looked like a deer in headlights.

 The amount of time it takes Hyunjae to react to your hug makes you wonder if you’d made a mistake. But just as you tense, ready to pull away in embarrassment, you feel his arms wrap around you to reciprocate the hug.

 He gives your back a small pat. “H-Hi…” It’s clear in the tone of his voice he’s not entirely sure of what to say.

 “Hi,” you mumble against the material of his sweater, also unsure of what to say. You’d made it to this point, but you weren’t certain what came next, nor did you think you were ready for it. You were afraid to lift your head and look at him. What if this wasn’t the right choice? What if you should have just let things wither out?

 You feel Hyunjae shift, and you know it’d be overstepping boundaries to keep latched on to him despite how much you want to. So, you break apart from the hug, lifting a hand to rub at the back of your neck sheepishly. Hyunjae clears his throat, glancing away from you, though you refuse to lift your gaze up from your shoes.

 “You’re home,” he finally says after a moment of silence suspended between the two of you hangs there for a little too long. You nod, glancing up finally just as he brings his gaze back to you from where it had wandered all about the room, at the same exact time. For a moment, you feel yourself freeze—and you see Hyunjae freeze, too.

 “I am,” you breathe out, surprised by how much he hasn’t changed even in three years. That’s not much time for many things to change, but it feels so odd seeing him here and in person.

 Hyunjae is tangible, and in front of you, and photos do him absolutely no justice—he’s still as handsome as he’s always been, his soft brown eyes offset by the sharper edges of all his other features, like his jawline and the shape of his nose. You’re surprised you can still pick out the little freckle that sits alone on his nose with such ease, as if you’d expected something about him to be different and unfamiliar. He’s smiling softly, tentatively—yet his lip curl is still so visible. The only thing that seems like it may be different is that he’s lost some weight in his cheeks, them being not quite as full as you remember. But every inch of his features are familiar and beautiful and his honey brown hair falling to the sides of his forehead make him seem golden. Untouchable. You feel out of place, even as his best friend, just as you had during middle and high school. He’d always been handsome and gorgeous simultaneously, and so many girls had liked him back then. He’d always turned every single one down, something you’d never quite understood. Not with how perfect he was—a clever mind with a ridiculous and dorky sense of humor, all packaged in a pretty face.

 “Welcome back,” Hyunjae mumbles, after another pause.

 “Thanks.” You glance away briefly, taking in the people around you all chatting and enjoying themselves.

 Chanhee’s wish for you to talk to Hyunjae again… did he just mean to greet each other like this? It felt strange to attempt to return to normal when there was so obviously a large elephant in the room between the two of you. There’d been a reason he’d given you the shot to down before sending you on your way. Liquid courage… you remind yourself. You hadn’t just needed it to even approach Hyunjae. You needed it for what came next, too. Setting your jaw, you turn back to him. “Hyunjae—”

 Hyunjae immediately feels the shift in the atmosphere between the two of you, immediately catches the terse resolve in your voice. And, just as instantly, he can feel his own self—his entire being—tense up in defense. Maybe it was a natural instinct from knowing you for so long that he knew what was coming next.

 “No, let’s not do this right now—” Hyunjae’s tone was almost pleading. “You should just enjoy the party, this can be done later.”

 You purse your lips. “Will it be done later, though? Or are we both going to avoid it?” There was an unsaid, like we have for the past three years, added to the end of your last question.

 Hyunjae mimics you, also pursing his lips. But before he can think of an excuse—or anything to distract you in order to push this off for just a bit longer—you’re stepping forward and grabbing his arm, pulling him along as you move through the crowd toward the rooftop balcony. Even if there were people out there, being outside was less likely to draw too much attention. Hyunjae has no choice but to stumble in surprise after you, glancing over his shoulder to attempt to find Chanhee and shoot him a withering look.

 The cold hits you like a splash of water to the face as soon as you step outside into the winter night air. To your surprise, there were actually people using the rooftop pool Chanhee’s luxurious penthouse came with, despite the chill outside. Even if the pool was heated, you didn’t think you’d ever catch yourself dead in it in the midst of January. A shiver passes down your spine, and you remind yourself that the cold is likely to wash away the effects of the alcohol if you don’t do something soon. Before you can, though, Hyunjae speaks up.

 “Let’s go sit by the firepit.” He gives a nod in the opposite direction of the pool and its occupants, turning and heading in that direction to claim the seats next to the fire just as the lone two people sitting next to it stand up and leave.

 Reluctantly, you follow. The cold might wash away your resolve—but being too warm next to a cozy fire might make you too tired to follow through with this.

 What were you even following through with? You weren’t even sure what you wanted to talk about with him. How the hell were you supposed to bring up the weird imaginary wall between the two of you. Was it simply that, even—just something of your imagination? Were you actually reading into it this entire time, and there was nothing on Hyunjae’s end to even be concerned about…? No… no, you knew there was something off, and you needed to find out what it was. You needed to be able to repair this relationship. Now that you were back home, there was no way you could continue on like this. The distance made it difficult to notice when things had gone awry between the two of you, but it also made it more difficult to approach and mend. There was no way you’d be able to survive like this, when the two of you shared too many common friends.

 Swallowing past the knot that had been forming in your throat, you follow Hyunjae and take the second open seat next to him by the fire. He’s not looking at you as you sit down, gaze fixated on the orange and yellow flames in front of him. For a moment, you too study the fire as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world, before you lift your gaze to look at him—studying the way the light of the fire falls against the sharp features of his face, accentuating them yet also softening them. He looks warm. He looks like home.

 “Hyunjae… are you mad at me?” You blurt out suddenly, biting your lip as soon as the words fall from your mouth. Maybe that hadn’t been the right way to start this conversation.

 Hyunjae glances up in surprise. “Why would I be mad at you?”

 “Just… because?” You offer up, unhelpfully so.

 “I’m not mad at you,” Hyunjae sighs out.

 “Then what—?”

 Hyunjae sighs once more. It’s a half truth—that’s all he can give, a half truth. You deserve a whole truth, especially after all this time; especially after how long he’s harbored these feelings for. But how can he just explain that to you so easily? How can he just pour his heart and feelings out to you so easily? It wasn’t fair to you, who was going through the aftermath of a breakup. Hyunjae had honestly thought he’d have more time to figure out a decent way to tell you the truth. But in two weeks, he hadn’t been able to come up with anything—and here you were, being headstrong and going after that which you needed answers to. So much more determined and confident than him.

 “I couldn’t be friends with you while you were dating Sangyeon.”

 “What?” You blurt out in surprise. Had there been something going on between them that you hadn’t known about? Surely Hyunjae would have said something, as your best friend…? You weren’t too certain about Sangyeon—not anymore, at least. That was an entirely different thing that had ultimately led to your breakup, but he’d hidden so many things for so long, you couldn’t have been sure if he’d even tell you the truth.

 “I can’t exactly say it’s his fault, or mine. I was ultimately the one who made the decision to pull away—even though I had a right not to as your best friend,” Hyunjae purses his lips. “I kept telling myself if I was in his shoes, I’d feel the same. Feel that it’s too hard to have a girlfriend whose closest friend since childhood, who knows all their secrets and otherwise—is a male. But I didn’t see it that way. We didn’t see eye to eye. We didn’t get along, and there was an underlying animosity. And I wasn't willing to sacrifice your happiness.”

 That was half of the truth. The other half, you didn’t need to know right now—or maybe ever. But that was why Hyunjae had always felt as though he were robbing someone. Your now ex-boyfriend had been very easily jealous. It had made Hyunjae feel both uncomfortable and guilty being your friend, but it had made him feel worse knowing he had his own feelings for you. 

 “I wish you would have sacrificed it…” You murmur, voice coming out smaller than you’d intended. And maybe I could have ended things before they got too far… 

 It’s Hyunjae’s turn to glance up in surprise. “You were in love, though… I didn’t want to lose your friendship entirely because me and your boyfriend—ex—didn’t get along. It wouldn’t have been fair to make you choose.”

 You scoff, words falling out before you can second guess or regret them thanks to the alcohol, “Well, apparently love meant different things to each of us.” 

 Hyunjae quirks a brow, and your eyes widen in surprise at what you’d said. You look away from him, grateful that he doesn’t press for more when you offer nothing. You know he has to be curious, after all this time. He had always been such an unwaveringly loyal friend to you through the years, and hearing that he hadn’t been willing to sacrifice your happiness touched you, despite everything. But the wound is still too fresh, not quite yet scabbed over, and you can’t bring yourself to explain. He deserves to know the truth, you remind yourself—and decide that, in time, he will.

 Love meant different things to each of us. If only you had realized sooner what your definition of love was, in comparison to Sangyeon’s. You bite down on your lip, afraid to turn back to your best friend as a stinging sensation builds up at the back of your eyes. You don’t even need to blink for the tears to start spilling over silently, and you can’t help but wonder if you’re crying because you still haven’t healed, or if you’re relieved things would slowly, hopefully, return to normal with Hyunjae.

 You flinch in surprise when you suddenly feel Hyunjae’s hand fall down on your shoulder, having been unaware it was that obvious you were crying. You’d tried to stay silent, but there was nothing you could do to suppress the way your shoulders shook with the quiet tears. Hyunjae gives your shoulder a small squeeze, before lightly patting your back soothingly. Instead of turning to face him, you drop your face into your hands with your elbows resting on your lap. The small action makes the tears flow faster.

 “It’s okay,” Hyunjae murmurs softly. “You’re home now.”

 Home. A place filled with love.

—

The amount of force with which you do not want to get out of bed almost three whole mornings later, after having spent those days recuperating from secondhand embarrassment at the party, is at its peak when consciousness finally begins to creep in on you. Sadly, you’re no longer hungover—though you wish you were. You hadn’t even been hungover the next morning, which is what prompted you to stay in bed and sleep everything away further—on top of some lingering jetlag. It would, however, be easier to focus on lingering alcohol effects than memories from that night. However, only a portion of that night had even been alcohol-fueled, and it hadn’t even been fueled by enough. Which meant that as soon as you’d begun to wake up the next day, your brain had immediately decided to remind you of Hyunjae’s explanation to why the two of you had drifted apart, your recent break up, and breaking down in front of your best friend after three years of pent up emotions. Despite having been through thick and thin with Hyunjae, you were embarrassed to have cried so easily in front of him—let alone after having not seen him in so long.

 And for three days, that’s what your brain decided to repeatedly replay. Much to your own horror.

 When you finally crack swollen eyes open on the third day, you briefly flinch at the morning light that greets you a little too abruptly. Then, you lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Had you been blind the whole time? Had Hyunjae and Sangyeon really not had a good relationship? You remember clearly how quickly Sangyeon was to react whenever you mentioned any sort of plans with Hyunjae, or how you were texting him. He used to almost visibly bristle. There were times, even, when he would get pouty and sulky until you’d inevitably give in and spend time with him, instead. When you’d first started dating him, you’d been so distracted by the softer and tender moments with him—the kind thoughts and actions and how he’d remember the little things, and that damn eye smile—that you’d thought his jealousy had been a bit endearing.

 But now, looking back, it only gave you a sour taste in the back of your mouth. He’d had an underlying streak of controllingness and was very good at gaslighting. Had Hyunjae seen all those traits behind the pretty mask Sangyeon had worn? Did he know? You let out a long sigh, unable to believe that you’d been so blinded by your feelings to miss such a thing festering between the two of them. Unable to believe you would ever miss such a thing that directly affected your longest standing friend. Yet, clearly, you had—you had no reason to feel guilty after this long, but you still did.

 I wish you would have sacrificed it…

 Your mind briefly drifts back again to the night of the party. Seeing Hyunjae again for the first time, up close, and being able to admire him after so long had felt surreal. Being able to study, in person, how naturally handsome he was; his sharp features were soft and boyish around the edges. You feel your heart skip—a little jump of liveliness that it barely managed anymore, not with the leaden heaviness in your chest lately weighing you down. Maybe your thought—your words—had been selfish. You’d always wondered why Hyunjae had turned down so many confessions during middle and high school. You’d always imagined putting yourself in that same situation and wondered if he’d treat you the same. He was your best friend, and that was a sacrifice you had never been willing to make… to step over that threshold and risk it all.

 But he was your best friend, and hearing his words that night had sparked a small inkling of hope. Your words were selfish, you knew that. Was it too much to want your best friend of so many years, who knew the worst and best parts of you, to have feelings for you? To return the feelings you’d been smothering like a kindled fire? It wasn’t fair to him to hear you say that, it wasn’t fair to him for you to think that maybe if he’d fought for you a little more, if he had risked your happiness back then… maybe you wouldn’t be here now. Maybe neither of you would have drifted apart. Maybe you’d be something more.

 At the very least, you’d have been mad at him if he’d put up a fight against Sangyeon back then. You’d had feelings, after all, that was undeniable. Sangyeon was your boyfriend at the time. Hyunjae your best friend. No one would want the two to go head-to-head. If Hyunjae had ruined it—you would’ve written it off as jealousy, been upset about things falling through, and then possibly gotten the crazy idea that Hyunjae had feelings for you. But that last one was a bit of an overstretch. You could wish it, and fantasize about it, though. And you could keep him as your best friend, without any rifts in your interactions and close to you, unseparated by a body of expansive water, a whole continent away.

 “Ugh, shut up brain!” You groan aloud—suddenly blinking yourself out of your ceiling-staring trance to slap your pillow over your face, burying yourself. There was no need to get ridiculous ideas in your head. You just wanted things to be normal again. No matter what, you needed them to be normal.

 Plus, you had work to do today. There was no way you could spend another day withering away in bed losing yourself in your thoughts, as nice as that honestly sounded—and as nice as it had been for the previous few days.

 When you get up to start gathering clothes to get ready, peeking out the window to see what the weather is like—you decide that the gloomy skies outside had you even less inclined, along with the remnants of that night, to even leave the comfort of your home. But, having returned to Korea left for a lot to be done. You needed, first and foremost, a way to pay rent. While you were glad your social life hadn’t seemed to suddenly disappear upon your return, not that it ever would with friends like Chanhee, you’d pretty much dropped everything and left three years ago. There weren’t any pieces of anything to pick up… you had to start completely from scratch.

 The easiest places to start were cafes, considering the fact that you hadn’t really had a moment to touch up your resume to your liking. So, you spend the majority of the day focused on stopping in cafes in your immediate neighborhood and just surrounding, also popping into a few restaurants in hopes of an easier serving job. Anything within walking or biking distance that you spot, you stop in to, inquiring about jobs. You don’t have the opportunity to be picky, unfortunately. The process is repetitive. You stop in, introduce yourself and ask some questions, fill out an application and attach your resume to leave with them—then move on. Somehow, you keep at this for hours. By the end of the process—or what you rightfully decide is the end—your feet ache. You’re more than happy to finally choose a cafe a bit closer to home you’d come across on your way back around as a resting point, ordering a drink for yourself as you fill out what you decide will be the last application of the day.

 “Oh?”

 At first, you don't recognize that the word someone says is aimed at you. At least, not until the words that soon follow.

 “You’re back.”

 The you’re back makes you second guess the original soft exclamation, which had initially just drowned into the sounds of your cafe surroundings. But the following addition has your pen pausing against the paper as you focus to remember your unpracticed written Korean. Your grip tightens on your pen, bracing yourself as you lift your gaze to the owner of the voice—Ji Changmin. Just beyond him stands Lee Juyeon.

 Personally you’d always felt like Changmin had been trouble, from the first moment you’d met him in college. On the other hand, his current companion Juyeon wasn’t so bad. You weren’t entirely sure how they managed to be friends, but that was never really your concern. The two of them, however, were friends with Sangyeon—because of this, they were both people you didn’t entirely want to associate with at the current moment. Yet, here they were having stumbled upon you at random. Just your luck.

 As soon as you make eye contact, Changmin’s mouth is falling open into the shape of an “O” to express his surprise. “Wow, I wasn’t actually sure if it was you, but it is. So you are back.”

 “Hey,” Juyeon mumbles next to him, under his breath, bumping Changmin’s own shoulder with his own. “Don’t cause trouble.”

 Trouble. The original sentiment of not wanting to associate with either of these two people returns, and you can’t help but wonder what exactly Changmin had in mind by approaching you as though he were surprised by your return. There was enough of a hint of sarcasm lacing his voice that you were doubtful he was unaware of current events that had transpired. Which made you wonder if it was him—the one you’d always felt was trouble—that was up to something, or if someone had put him up to it.

 You tense up just as Changmin shrugs Juyeon away, turning back to you to open his mouth to speak—but before you have a chance to find out who it is that’s actually trouble, and what Changmin wants to say, you’re abruptly interrupted—your tense muscles startle in surprise as a Hyunjae appears, practically barrelling up to the table. He bumps into Changmin’s shoulder and jostles the other, who startles in surprise as well. Whatever words he’d been about to say are forgotten.

 “Hey, where have you been?” Hyunjae, slightly out of breath, leans forward and braces a hand on the table you sit at. “Chanhee and I have been trying to call you for an hour now—”

 “What—” Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and you turn to start fumbling through your bag. As you do so, you hear Changmin speak up.

 “Excuse you, are you not even going to apologize? After we haven’t even seen each other in so long?”

 You’re barely paying attention as Hyunjae straightens up, even missing the sideways glare that he cuts Changmin.

 “Sorry, in a bit of a hurry—there’s an emergency. I need to grab her and go.”

 Just as you’re about to pull your phone out of your bag, you feel Hyunjae’s fingers wrap around your wrist. With that hand, he pulls you out of the cafe chair and to your feet, causing you to blink in surprise. You’re confused at how fast everything is happening—watching with a bit of disconnect as Hyunjae, with his free hand, grabs the bag you’d just pulled your phone from off the table. He turns after he does so, brushing past Changmin who voices a protest, and pulls you along with him. Hyunjae pays Changmin no mind, and doesn’t stop walking and doesn’t let go of you until you’re both outside the cafe standing under the awning of the entrance.

 Luckily, you suppose, you’d finished most of your coffee. Too bad you hadn’t finished the job application.

 You blink, recollecting yourself. Remembering your cell phone, you turn your hand upward and glance down as you do so, studying the screen. Empty.

 “You and Chanhee didn’t call me,” you suddenly say, looking up from your phone to find Hyunjae frowning out past the awning of the cafe. Confused, you follow his gaze—suddenly taking in the weather change that had been almost as abrupt as Hyunjae’s appearance.

 The gloomy, overcast skies had decided to finally let all their own pent up emotions out. It was raining. Winter rain. You shiver, aware of the sudden chill that was settling in with the wet weather. You hated winter rain, because it meant that it was attempting to snow. The worst part was that it turned any leftover snow on the ground already to slush and ice, making things slippery.

 “Are you okay?” Hyunjae suddenly asks, breaking the weird suspended silence between the two of you. Personally, you were still trying to process everything that had just happened in such a short amount of time, so you hadn’t really been bothered by the silence. It wasn’t noticeable until you refocused, aware of the way the sound of the rain was filling your surroundings and the space between the two of you.

 “Yeah, fine. But you and Chanhee haven’t been calling me—”

 “I know,” Hyunjae says, suddenly turning to look at you. As he does so, he holds out your bag to return. “I happened to be passing by and saw you—and them—and you looked uncomfortable. So I barged in without thinking.”

 Like a knight. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Hyunjae always seemed to show up whenever you had needed him. He’d always been there, whether it was saving you from tripping in the hall, saving you by slipping his assignment in class to you when you’d forgotten yours, saving you by showing up with an umbrella on a rainy day like this one when you’d forgotten yours, or saving you at three in the morning post-breakup stranded after a party. Hyunjae had always been there.

 Hyunjae himself didn’t know why he’d done it—suddenly barging in like that. It was true he’d simply been passing by. Since your return, and since the night of the party, he’d been trying his best to avoid you. Not completely, per se. He was glad to have you back, glad to have your friendship back—although it might start out awkward and rocky. But he personally wanted to figure out how to suppress his feelings. Every moment he spent thinking of you, every moment he spent knowing you were single again, and every chance he had to remember not making a move or making his feelings known years ago—he was filled with regret. He kept wondering why he hadn’t done so sooner, why he hadn’t just crossed the threshold and tried to step into your heart. He was scared, he knew that much, valuing your friendship the most. But now it was like the emotions were a constant alarm going off in his head that he couldn’t figure out how to get rid of, and taking the batteries out wouldn’t make them shut up.

 But going after someone just out of a breakup was off limits. It wasn’t right. It didn’t feel right. Despite having caught wind of the words you’d uttered that night—I wish you would have sacrificed it—and the utter confusion they caused by sending his heart and mind into further turmoil, Hyunjae couldn’t bring himself to approach you in that manner now. Despite Chanhee’s urging to do so, he couldn’t bring himself to.

 Yet seeing you—whether you’d looked uncomfortable through the cafe window or not—had stirred up a need and want to just be near you. Growing up, he’d always found himself being protective of you. You knew how to handle your own and take care of yourself, not afraid to tell someone off as needed, but he had always found himself hovering nearby in case worse came to worst and you’d need an extra hand to step in. Even if the situation you’d been in hadn’t been the one he’d come upon, Hyunjae was sure that seeing you through that cafe window, gravity would have taken over and pulled him toward you, anyway. Ever since you were kids, he’d always been drawn toward you.

 You scoff, reaching out to take your bag. “You expect me to believe you still have that special talent for coming to save me?”

 He smiles softly. “You have a special talent for getting into all kinds of trouble, of varying degrees. It’s become a natural instinct at this point, rather than a talent.”

 “Well, thanks. They weren’t exactly people I wanted to see right now, actually.”

 “We should leave, then, before they come back out,” Hyunjae says, glancing away briefly to stare out at the rain.

 You nod, then pause. Wait—we? Why, we? He hadn’t come all this way just to find you, right? There was absolutely no way he knew you were specifically here, at this cafe. You glance back  at Hyunjae in surprise. “You don’t have to walk me home.”

 Hyunjae shrugs. “I was only going to the corner store to get some ramen. Ran out at home and was craving it with the gloomy weather. But now I don’t want to go all that way and back in the rain.”

 You nod slowly. “Oh, got it… did you want to come over for ramen, then?”

 “Here,” Hyunjae says suddenly, causing you to refocus. You blink in surprise when you notice he’s shrugged out of his bomber jacket to remove his hoodie, holding it out to you, while he’s got half an arm back in the jacket itself.

 “W-what’s this for?” You ask, forgetting your offer briefly.

 “It has a hood on it. Your jacket doesn’t. Put that on so you don’t get sick.”

 “What about you?”

 Hyunjae shrugs. “We’re eating ramen, right? It’s warm, and I have shorter hair than you do. Just put it on and pull the hood up so you don’t get too wet from the rain.”

 Still surprised, you stare at the outstretched hoodie, then up at Hyunjae—dumbfounded. Had he actually agreed to come over and eat lunch with you? Although at this point in the afternoon, it was more like an early dinner. The idea made your stomach do a flip. You’d eaten together many times before, and he’d been to your house and your parents house growing up many times before, as well. But this was the first since returning—and since your theoretical make-up. It’s just as friends, you remind yourself, you’re just friends.

 You can tell by the way Hyunjae waits and stares expectantly that he isn’t going to take an argument against his offer. If the situation had been a bit better, maybe you would have stood here and argued against him, but you decided better of it—wanting to get away from the cafe and its occupants as soon as possible. You hold your bag back out to Hyunjae, then your own peacoat after shrugging out of it, trading both items for the gray hoodie he’d offered. Almost immediately after pulling the hoodie over your head—before you even pull your head through—you’re enveloped with the warm scent of Hyunjae. It’s almost a mix of cinnamon, spices, and cream. Like a light caffe latte, freshly made. It smells so familiar, but also foreign, to you. If you had the chance, you’d like to stand there and snuggle further into it, breathe in his scent a bit more until you were more familiar with it and could memorize it—but your head abruptly freeing itself out the top brings you back to reality.

 Hyunjae hands you your peacoat back first, which you shrug back into for the extra added warmth against the winter chill mixed with the rain. Immediately after you’re settled, Hyunjae gives you your bag back while simultaneously reaching for the hood of his sweater, pulling it up and over your head.

 Miffed, you let out a disgruntled noise from the back of your throat. “Hey!”

 Hyunjae just smiles, amused at your reaction, before giving a nod in the opposite direction as he shrugs back into his bomber jacket, signaling, Let’s go. His own jacket is lightweight, and you find yourself worrying if it will even keep him warm enough. Hyunjae won’t say otherwise, but despite his bluff—he too is worried if it will keep him warm and dry enough. The way the rain is coming down makes it a fine mist, likely to soak through the thinnest materials with ease.

 The distance to home is short, but it’s enough that he himself is at risk of getting sick. Before he steps out into the rain, Hyunjae unfolds the turtleneck of the sweater beneath his jacket, pulling it up further against his chin. But he doesn’t give you much of a moment to worry, immediately stepping out into the rain. You have no choice but to scramble after him as quickly as possible. Luckily, thanks to the cold, and now wet, weather, it’s quite easy to match the brisk pace of his longer legs with the cold pushing you forward.

 The walk back to your place isn’t that long, but definitely takes longer than usual with the angle the rain is coming down at. Even with Hyunjae’s hooded jacket pulled as far down over your forehead as possible, you have to keep your head ducked down as you walk. The rain comes down at such an angle that as soon as you look up, you’re immediately hit in the face by it. It’s worse for Hyunjae, who has no way to protect himself at all. He has an arm hovering up over his eyes in a feeble attempt to shield himself.

 When you make it home, you immediately discard wet shoes in the entry of your apartment along with your bag, shredding your coat off first and running further into the apartment. Hyunjae follows suit at less of a rush, kicking his wet shoes off and shrugging out of his bomber jacket.

 “I don’t think I have anything for you to change into,” you call from your bedroom down the hall, shuffling through your closet and dresser drawers—in search of sweatpants or anything warm that might fit him. There are too many things thrown haphazardly into a place to put them, simply to just get them out of the boxes and luggage they’d previously been in. You still hadn’t finished unpacking completely.

 “It’s fine,” Hyunjae says, hovering in the entry as you rush out of your room and into the bathroom, grabbing some clean towels off the rack instead. “I don’t get sick easily, you know this.”

 Despite his words, you still frown as you hand the towels to him. “I’m going to throw your hoodie in the dryer.”

 He just nods, and you move away to do exactly that, pulling the jacket over your head as you blindly move back down the hall to the bathroom. At the very least, Hyunjae can go home in something warm. A part of you hopes, however, that he’ll instead choose to wait out the rain. You toss the gray jacket into the dryer, setting a low heat cycle, and move back out to head to the kitchen to start cooking—though you practically freeze in your tracks as soon as you step out of the bathroom.

 Again, you find yourself forgetting just how handsome Hyunjae is. You’d also conveniently forgotten that he was also standing in your entryway not just handsome but soaking wet, too. When you briefly glance his way after stepping back into the hall to head to the kitchen, you’re taken aback by the timing of which you do so. Hyunjae has just uncovered his face after wiping the towel over and up, sliding his hair back off his forehead. The exposure of his forehead as he rubs the towel at his hair reveals his chiseled features more easily to you, and the dampness of his skin glistens in a way that highlights every single one of those features from his sharp jawline and eyebrows and straight nose.

 Your stomach does a little flip as the towel falls away from his head to his shoulder, revealing his damp and now-ruffled hair. It softens the sharp features of his face, giving him a boyish look that catches your heart off guard—reminding you of the duality of his physical appearance. He can always look so sharp yet soft at the same time, so boyish but mature, so cute but handsome. Hyunjae glances up at you as he rubs the towel along the hair at the nape of his neck.

 “You good?”

 Hyunjae notices you staring, though he tries to make it out to be nothing. He has to mentally remind himself too that it is nothing. You’d just recently broken up with Sangyeon. This was not the time or place for these thoughts—he couldn’t allow himself to wonder where your eyes were lingering, and what they were curiously taking in of him. The idea made his stomach twist warmly.

 “Huh?” You blink away from your distracted thoughts, before nodding—maybe a little too fast, giving yourself away. “Yeah, fine. Was just wondering if that’s going to be enough.”

 “I’ll be fine,” he assures you, with a bit more insistence this time. As he lets one of the towels rest as his neck, he nods you toward the kitchen, grabbing the other towel you’d handed him at the same time to unfold and begin patting at his damp clothes. “Go make something warm for the both of us, though, instead of just standing there. Warm food will help.”

 “Right.” You suddenly remember you’d invited Hyunjae over for some ramen on a whim—and that he’d agreed very nonchalantly. You give yourself a small shake as you make your way to the kitchen to prepare food, reminding yourself that this was normal and you were friends. Hyunjae had been over for meals plenty of times before. He’d been over for meals to both your apartment after you’d moved out, your dorm when you’d been in college, and even your family’s house for regular dinner nights and holidays. So why did it feel different now?

 You could kick yourself for suddenly becoming that much more hyper-aware of your feelings since the night of your welcome back party. How you’d managed most of your life ignoring them was suddenly beyond you. Ever since he’d admitted to why he had pulled away from you, your feelings had begun to rear their head even more blatantly, telling you to give them and yourself a chance. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep them at bay. If you’d felt this strongly for him the entire time, which you knew you had—him being your best friend making the feelings that much stronger since the connection you had with him was that much more deeper—you wondered why your emotions hadn’t chosen to act like this in the past. You suddenly felt like a hormonal teenager, and it was years too late for that.

 The buzz from the dryer going off pulls you back to reality. You glance up toward the hall the bathroom is nestled away in, then back down at the two pots of ramen on the stovetop you’ve been absentmindedly stirring the entire time. You realize, then, that the food is basically done.

 “I’ll go grab that,” Hyunjae declares, setting the towel he’d been using to pat himself down aside.

 “We can eat after,” you state, wondering if he’ll even catch your words—he’s already disappeared down the hall. You move away from the stove to grab some potholders to place atop the counter in front of a seat each, moving both of the pots off the stove after doing so, before turning back into the kitchen to grab chopsticks, spoons, and drinks. When you turn around, Hyunjae is pulling his hoodie over his head and onto his torso, slipping into one of the two empty seats at the counter.

 He lets out a content sigh as his head pops through the hoodie. “This is the best, it’s nice and warm.”

 You set everything in your hands down on the counter, pushing a set of chopsticks and a drink towards him. As you step around the counter, you find yourself smiling fondly. “Just don’t become lethargic and fall asleep from a warm sweater and warm food. There’s still boxes all around this place to be unpacked, it wouldn’t be comfortable to nap here.”

 “Did you need any help unpacking?” Hyunjae asks, picking up his chopsticks to stir the ramen in front of him.

 “No, I’m good. Thanks, though, but it keeps me distracted.”

 “Distra—” Hyunjae doesn’t even finish the word, or question, immediately cutting himself off. “Oh. Sorry.”

 You shrug at his apology. After all, what did he have to apologize for? He wasn’t at fault for the situation at hand. There was no real way to get over everything that had happened, either. Everyone heals differently, and you found the best method so far had been to just keep yourself and your mind busy with other things for every waking moment possible. You felt detached from the breakup, anyway, considering. But the less you had to think about it, the better.

 The two of you fall into an awkward silence, both picking at and eating your food. Just the sound of chopsticks against the aluminum pots, the slurping of the broth and noodles, and the pattering of rain outside fill the apartment. It feels like an eternity before anything is said—before you work up the courage to bring up the topic in a more secluded, personal, and safer space than you had been before. You hadn’t been sure you were ready to truly dump your heart out to Hyunjae, which is why you’d only allowed yourself to cry that night. But after getting what was left of the last of the tears out of your system, you felt a lot safer revealing your thoughts and feelings.

 “Hyunjae?”

 “Hm?” He glances up mid-bite, slurping some of the noodles into his mouth and chewing.

 “What did you mean when you said you couldn’t be my friend while dating Sangyeon? Was it really just because the two of you didn’t get along… or… was there more?”

 Hyunjae finishes chewing, then swallows. He stares at you for a moment—reading you, reading the room. Reading the quaver in your voice that you’d thought you’d done your best to suppress after working up the nerve to even ask those words aloud. Yet, here you were—nervous, still.

 Instead of answering, Hyunjae asks, “Are you sure you want to talk about this right now?”

 You glance at him in surprise—having almost immediately expected an answer, rather than a question in return. Hyunjae had always been direct in the past. Sometimes, even, to the point of bluntness. You’d never been offended by it as some people had. While he was good at penting up his emotions and sometimes beating around the bush to the point that he started to feel guilty, he was also reliable when you needed him to tell it straight. And that’s what you had been expecting. But maybe it was a bit too easy to hear the hesitation in your voice.

 “Well, it’s a better time than any. I’ve been thinking about what you said since that night… I just… am curious about some things, and trying to piece together signs still.”

 You’re not paying attention, so you miss Hyunjae clench his jaw—an attempt to mentally piece together his own thoughts. He hadn’t really expected you to outright ask about his words like this. The discreet statement was meant to be that: Discreet, and enough to subside any curiosities. Explaining anything more would require him to divulge his own personal feelings and emotions on the matter and what had truly prompted him to pull away as he had.

 Sangyeon was only the match that lit the flame. It was true that he never saw eye-to-eye with your ex-boyfriend, and it was also true that he gotten a bad vibe from him whenever you two had been with each other. There was a subtle, underlying animosity that rolled off Sangyeon in waves, and glares that could hardly go unnoticed—as though he were someone protecting his territory. Hyunjae had written it off as just being a jealous boyfriend, despite the intensity at which it had grown as time had passed. He really had tried to convince himself that if he were in Sangyeon’s shoes, he’d have acted the same. But the truth of the matter was, despite all of that, Hyunjae still had his own feelings to work around and out.

 And he had been jealous himself—of what Sangyeon had. It hadn’t been healthy for him to continue surrounding himself with you, burning with his own jealousy just beneath his skin. Hyunjae had been afraid he’d ruin something—your happiness, or his friendship with you.

 Hyunjae sighs. “Look, I don’t know what happened—”

 “He cheated,” you blurt out suddenly. “He cheated, and he was gaslighting me about it the entire time. He made me feel like things were my fault.”

 The sudden resolve to just get the words out surprises you—but it was something you couldn’t hold in any longer. Like a venom rotting away at the deepest parts of your heart, it just kept gnawing away. You weren’t sure getting it out would help anything. Chanhee was the only one who currently knew the situation. But it still felt like something you had to forcefully eject, or it would just keep causing the same damage internally that it had been this entire time.

 You let out a sigh, staring at your bowl of food intently. Your grip on your chopsticks tightens, to the point that your knuckles turn white as the skin pulls taught over the bones beneath. The sensation of Hyunjae’s hand softly folding over yours causes you to flinch in surprise, pulling yourself out of the negative energy suddenly engulfing you. Glancing up, you meet Hyunjae’s gaze—caught off guard by his features being blurred in your line of sight by tears.

 “You don’t have to talk about it, it’s still fresh,” Hyunjae murmurs, but you’re instantly shaking your head at his words. You reach up to rub the tears away from your eyes.

 “No, I have to. I think I have to. If I don’t say it, I don’t think I’ll ever come to terms with it. There were so many warning signs the entire time, and I feel so dumb and blind.”

 Hyunjae gives your hand a squeeze. “You aren’t dumb, or blind. When you’re in love with someone, you place the entirety of your trust in them. You don’t expect to have to look for those types of things. If he broke your trust that’s on him, not on you for not realizing it—and if he was doing those things to you, that’s not your fault. People like that are good at what they do, and sometimes if you’re in that situation, it’s hard to realize it until you’ve removed yourself.”

 You frown, not entirely sure that you believe him. It felt strange to be on the receiving end of relationship advice. You’d always thought, seeing others in relationships that weren’t exactly healthy for them, you’d be able to pick out if yours was or not immediately. But instead, you had found yourself twisted up in the same situation as others you’d known. A situation you swore would never happen to you—one you vowed you’d never let happen to you. You felt foolish and naive for believing you could prevent it so easily, and wondered if they had too. And you also found yourself wondering how it was so easy to make that same mistake, over and over, falling for that person time and time again.

 Hyunjae gives your hand another reassuring squeeze. He isn’t sure what to say from there, but it almost looks like you’re about to cry again. Within his chest, he can feel his heart clenching uncomfortably—squeeze, painfully, at seeing you in pain. He doesn’t like seeing you like this. The tears had come so fast the night of the party, he hadn’t been sure how to react or what to say. But seeing them there again from the pain, lingering, on the verge of overflowing—he hurts seeing you hurt.

 He has so many questions suddenly spring into his mind—wondering if there had been more to the relationship that had hurt you. If there was more that had cut you so deep like a knife, or if you had simply been that attached and hopeful in the relationship that it had made you blind to the negatives. It was quite possible that was the case, but with the way Hyunjae’s heart twists in his chest—he can’t help but worry and wonder if there had been more. Had the relationship been bad, or had it just gone south without notice? Had he been bad to you? But even as your best friend, he’s not sure it’s his place to ask these types of questions.

 Hyunjae is surprised when he feels your hand twist in his grip, suddenly turning over to link your fingers with his—you give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

 He glances at you in surprise—had you sensed the turn his own thoughts had been taking?—caught off guard when he meets your gaze. Your eyes are no longer filled with tears, something that brings him relief, but now his heart is clenching in his chest in a different way. It’s a way he’s not unfamiliar with, but one he wished wouldn’t happen now, of all times. Yet the longer he holds your gaze, the further he thinks he’ll fall. He thinks that maybe he can allow himself to drown in your eyes—to simply give in and allow the feelings to flow over him, either washing over him or drowning him completely.

 He wouldn’t mind, one way or another.

 You feel yourself frozen, too—like you’re suspended in time. Of all the times you’ve looked at him, you wondered if you’ve truly ever seen him. You’d always thought he was handsome, and physically attractive, with a personality to tie it all together. But sitting here, staring at Hyunjae and slowly losing yourself in his eyes—it feels like forever and as though it’s not quite long enough. His gaze, filled with surprise and a bit of confusion, is filled with warmth and tenderness.

 It’s filled with a look that Sangyeon had never given you.

 But before you can discern what the look means, or have a chance to even think about it, Hyunjae is pulling his hand from your grasp sheepishly. He clenches that hand into a fist, immediately shoving it under the table. As he does so, he falters a moment, before glancing around—looking anywhere but at you—and settling his gaze on the ceiling.

 “Oh, I think the rain stopped,” he murmurs, as if looking for something to fill the void he’d just caused. Hyunjae pulls his gaze down from the ceiling, looking at you again—trying to keep his expression neutral. “I’m supposed to meet Chanhee later. I should go home and get changed.”

 You nod slowly, trying to wrap your head around the sudden turn things had taken. Dammit, I shouldn’t have done that. But in the moment, holding Hyunjae’s hand had seemed so right and needed. It seemed like he had needed it, just as much as you. While he hadn’t given you a straight answer about Sangyeon, you weren’t sure you entirely needed it—clearly, something had happened. You suspected it had to do with the jealousy that he’d outright shown to you so many times, guilting you about hanging out with Hyunjae over him so much. If it had happened to you, it had likely happened to Hyunjae, as well. And since it was a man to man emotion-fest at that point, it was likely to a stronger degree.

 Still, why had you allowed your body to react without thinking things through? You wanted to groan outwardly; inwardly, you were beating yourself up.

 “Also.” Hyunjae’s voice makes you blink in surprise—the way he’d pulled back so suddenly, you had almost been certain you’d ruined things so soon after fixing them, and that he was about to bolt out of your apartment. But instead, when you look up at him, he has a smile on his face as he looks down at you, having stood up from his seat. “Everyone heals at a different pace, but if you ever need to vent I’m always here. I don’t need to know every detail of what happened, but I want you to stop beating yourself up for not noticing the so-called signs. It wasn’t your fault, and you’re allowed to be upset about it for as long as you need—just don’t blame yourself. Okay?”

 As Hyunjae bids a goodbye, gathering his still-damp bomber jacket and slipping his shoes back on—you’re almost certain you’ll start crying. Yet, when the door closes behind him to signal his exit, you’re surprised to find you don’t.

 You’d been right about one thing, at the very least: You needed to get the venom out and the words out of the cavity of your chest to start the healing process fully. Doing so with Hyunjae had been the best choice.

 Hyunjae’s words linger, filling the apartment with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a while. It felt safe here. Your feelings felt safe with him.

—

The next day, your heart feels much lighter. It’s as though you’ve lifted an entire weight off yourself. There was a significant difference between telling your family and Chanhee, in comparison to telling Hyunjae. A part of you wondered, again, if you were selfish for revealing what had happened to Hyunjae. There was a small voice in the back of your mind torturing you with the idea that you’d only done it to keep him close and ensure you wouldn’t lose him again. At least, not so soon. Perhaps that’s why you had taken hold of his hand so suddenly yesterday, as well. You didn’t want to lose him again. You didn’t want to see him slowly back away from you as he had done before.

 Perhaps it really was selfish of you to do this to him, and to indulge in your feelings for him. But when everything always felt safe and right with Hyunjae—you couldn’t help but think that you should allow yourself, this once, to be selfish and take that risk. If it messed things up, it would hurt like hell. But something was telling you to do it, anyway. That this was right and that things would be okay. You wanted to allow yourself something good, for once. Hyunjae was that good.

 After so long of holding feelings for him in and suppressing them, you weren’t sure you could do the same any longer. Not after being splashed in the face with the reality of the relationship you’d just gotten out of. It was like a wake up call to what was right in front of you this entire time.

 “You seem like you’re in a good mood today,” Chanhee notes from beside you. You glance at him briefly, watching his fingers glide across his phone screen as he types out a text. Despite absentmindedly paying attention to the electronic in his hand, he’s quite keen.

 You exhale, letting out a deep breath. Not quite a sigh. It felt nice to be able to breathe lighter with that weight off your chest.

 “I told Hyunjae about the breakup, and what happened.”

 Chanhee glances up from his phone, eyebrows raising up past the curtain of hair falling across his forehead. “Oh? I thought you weren’t going to?”

 “I didn’t want to, originally. I didn’t want him to worry about what had happened while we weren’t in contact. But I think he would’ve figured it out anyway. Just… from the vibe I got, it seems like Sangyeon was a jealous jerk to Hyunjae, too.”

 “Oh, he definitely was.” The nonchalance with which Chanhee replies has your head snapping towards him in surprise. Chanhee simply shrugs, turning back to his phone.

 “What?!” You’d already guess as much yesterday, but hearing it confirmed was a whole different story. “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

 Chanhee shrugs. “Wasn’t my place to say it. Hyunjae didn’t want you worrying, either.”

 You let out a groan. There was too much he was worried, she was worried, going around—that had been going around for three years, apparently. You couldn’t believe the way you and Hyunjae kept operating on the same wavelength, trying to keep the other worry-free and safe. You also couldn’t believe how neutral Chanhee had managed to stay in all of this the entire time.

 “Hey!”

 Before you can chastise Chanhee for keeping this bit of information from you, the sound of Kevin’s voice alerts you and Chanhee both at the same time. You simultaneously look over your shoulder while turning in the direction of the voice, and Chanehee pushes himself away from the wall he’d been leaning against.

 “Oh?” The single word falls from your lips quietly, disheartened, as you take in the scene before you. As planned for your lunch today, Kevin and Younghoon—two of your closest friends shared with both Chanhee and Hyunjae—walk towards you. But someone is missing.

 “Where’s Hyunjae?” Chanhee asks when Kevin and Younghoon are near enough. You stumble in surprise when Kevin immediately wraps you in a hug in greeting, practically nuzzling his face against yours.

 Younghoon shrugs. “Dunno. He wasn’t answering his phone.”

 “Or his door,” Kevin pipes up, pulling away from you.

 Not answering his phone or his door? You glance between the two of them, who both seem a bit unconcerned about it. Chanhee purses his lips, pulling his phone that he’d tucked away into his jacket back out. He taps around a bit on the screen, before lifting the device to his ear, and you assume he’s calling Hyunjae to test if what the others said is true or not.

 You’re aware of Kevin starting to chatter mindlessly in your ear, talking about things he’d done yesterday and his walk to meet you for lunch—but your mind is elsewhere, not in the present. You wonder if Hyunjae not answering his phone or his door has anything to do with what happened yesterday? Meeting for lunch today had been planned since the night of the party—something you’re sure that, at the time, Hyunjae had reluctantly agreed to in the first place. Had your actions the afternoon before mistakenly reset all the progress you had made? Was he having second thoughts?

 “He’s not answering,” Chanhee confirmed after a bit, frowning at his phone before shoving it back into his jacket again.

 Without thinking, an urge to just go takes over you. If Hyunjae was having second thoughts—you wanted to halt them right in their tracks, right then and there. You couldn’t stand the thought of everything reverting again. Of possibly seeing him drift away again.

 “Crap—I just remembered I forgot my wallet at home,” you blurt out, and without waiting for a reply, turn on your heel and dart off—back in the direction of home.

 “What the hell?!” Chanhee blurts after you. “You couldn’t remember that ten minutes ago?!”

 “We can just pay for you though?!” Kevin’s voice cries over Chanhee.

 “But my ID!” You yell over your shoulder. “We can’t drink like we planned to, just go ahead and I’ll catch up!”

 Despite your words, you actually had no intentions of catching up. While the ideal situation would be to return to lunch with all your friends, dragging Hyunjae along with you, there was no guarantee that would actually happen. If you’d overstepped boundaries yesterday, you fully expected to have to fix those boundaries. You also fully intended to do just that if it came to it.

 The cold air burns in your lungs as you run in the direction back toward your and Hyunjae’s respective apartments, but you refuse to slow down or waste any time. Even when you reach the stairs, trudging up as quickly as you can, you still refuse to break pace. By the time you reach the floor that his apartment is on, your lungs and the back of your throat feel as though they’re on fire. Despite your wishes, you have to crouch down to catch your breath, clutching the sides of your ribs and wishing that maybe you hadn’t run that fast.

 Steeling yourself, you rub your side one last time and push yourself to your feet, heading down the hall to Hyunjae’s apartment. You wonder what the heck you’re going to say, as you near his door, worried about how to make this right. There’s a turmoil inside of you. You don’t want to lose Hyunjae as a friend, yet you also want to be selfish for once. Why did this have to happen just as you’d finally gathered up the courage to make a decision?

 Lifting a hand, you knock on the door. A few minutes pass, and no answer. So you knock again, but louder. You know the time that passes is short, yet it feels like an eternity.

 “Hyunjae?” You call, cupping your hand by your mouth as you lean closer to the door, knocking again. “It’s me!”

 Still no answer. Frowning, you reach into your bag, pulling your phone out. You know Chanhee had said he hadn’t answered, but it was worth a try.

 It’s then, as you’re pulling your phone out of your bag, that you notice a plastic bag sitting by the door. Delivery food, left outside for whoever had ordered it. You’d been so focused on your inner turmoil that you hadn’t seen it at first. You glance up from the bag, then at the door, then back down. Why had Hyunjae ordered food, when he knew he was meeting everyone for lunch today?

 Crouching down, you grab the handles of the bag, peering inside. There’s a couple of to-go cartons, and right at the top sits the receipt for the entire order taped to one of the cartons. With yesterday evening’s date.

 Hyunjae had ordered the food and then never claimed it.

 Suddenly—like a waterfall of realization—the events from yesterday flood back over you. Rushing home in the rain together, his soaked clothing and wet hair and the cold winter weather, towels to dry himself and ramen to try and warm his insides, and the barely-dry hoodie to slip over his still damp clothes as he’d left your apartment. God, you felt so stupid.

 I don’t get sick easily. Hyunjae had practically boasted. Maybe so, but he was still human with a human immune system. Anyone could get sick with how fine of a soaking mist that rain had been yesterday, paired with the gloomy overcast skies and winter temperatures.

 You immediately jump to your feet, pulling the bag of to-go food with you. You were sure at this point it was probably spoiled, but there was no sense in leaving it outside. Rather than knocking again, you lift your hand to the number pad at Hyunjae’s apartment door, fingers hovering over the buttons. Had he changed the passcode? Would it still be the same after three years? You feel your jaw clench with tension.

 “Sorry, Hyunjae. Don’t report me for breaking and entering,” you mutter, typing in the passcode. The ding that immediately resounds, followed by the sound of the door gears unlocking for you, has you standing there for a moment in shock.

 Realizing the door might engage the lock again, you give yourself a shake and push into the entryway of Hyunjae’s place, tentatively peering in before you allow yourself fully inside. You set the bag of delivery food down by your shoes as you slip out of them, discarding your bag soon after. The apartment is dark inside the curtains in the living room pulled closed, and smells a bit musty. Like someone is sick, you think, recognizing the stuffiness almost immediately.

 “Hyunjae?” You call out, allowing yourself further inside. Your eyes immediately scan the kitchen to your right, peering around the corner of the counter to make sure he wasn’t just passed out somewhere, before your head rubber bands to the left, eyes scanning the living room. Just as they do, a mound of fluffy blanket on the couch shifts and you let out an eep of surprise, stumbling backward.

 You lift a hand to your chest, giving it a slight pat and reminding yourself that he doesn’t have any roommates—and that you’re the only burglar in the area at the current time—before moving forward. “Hyunjae?”

 This time, a groan answers you, and a hooded head very sluggishly peeks itself out from the blanket. It’s Hyunaje, alright, and he looks pale and clammy. You frown at the sight. Definitely sick, you confirm visually.

 Hyunjae blinks a few times, eyes heavily lidded and gaze completely unfocused.

 “Whrye d’ng here?” His words are as sloppy and sluggish as his appearance, but you’re relieved to see he has at least some coherency to recognize that it’s you.

 “I came because you didn’t show up for our lunch plans with everyone,” you reply, not even sure that he’ll understand, with how far gone he seems. You lean over him, resting the back of your hand against his forehead—it almost immediately snaps back to yourself, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. He’s scalding to the touch. “Holy hell, Hyunjae, you’re burning up!”

 “Mhm,” is the only confirmation he gives.

 “You should’ve called someone as soon as you started to feel off,” you scold, the frown on your face deepening. Before setting to work, you lift the blankets off his form—relieved to see he’d managed to change, at least, into dry clothes when he’d gotten home. Instead of letting the blanket fall back over him, you pull it halfway down.

 “No—” A whine sounds from Hyunjae, and he meekly lifts himself to try and grab the blanket back. You swat his hand away, scowling.

 “You need to lessen your body temperature, not make it worse. I know you feel like you’re freezing right now but you actually aren’t. Just trust me.”

 Hyunjae blearily frowns at you, sinking back into the couch with a pout. You wait a moment, watching to see if he’ll go against your words. When he doesn’t, you give him a smile of encouragement, and a nod. With that at least settled, you shrug out of your jacket and move away from the couch to set to work, discarding your jacket on the back of a chair as you head towards the bathroom.

 His apartment hasn’t changed much, something to which you’re grateful for. It makes navigating the place for things you need that much easier. You waste no time in finding some ibuprofen and water for Hyunjae, who protests when you help him sit up straight on the couch so he can take the medication with some fluids. Getting him to eat was probably out of the question, considering he had clearly been hungry but hadn’t even moved from the couch to get his food. A part of you wondered if he’d possibly passed out. Maybe the fever had been more intense than this before.

 As you pat Hyunjae’s forehead with a damp, lukewarm washcloth, you’re relieved that it was simply just that he was sick and not avoiding you. You want to tell that selfish part of you to shut up—this wasn’t the time to be relieved over something like that, for goodness’ sake, considering the state he was in. But you just couldn’t help it. You knew you should have known better than to think he would be avoiding you, considering his parting words before he’d left your apartment yesterday. It wouldn’t have been like him to randomly shut you out like that. But after everything that had happened within the last few years, there was just an innate fear you were being left behind or shut out—or wouldn't notice something when it was going awry.

 Deciding to settle in, you make yourself comfortable on the floor next to the couch. While you’d already decided—for other reasons, originally—that you likely wouldn’t be rejoining the lunch plans as you’d darted away so quickly, you still feel guilty for ditching so suddenly. It had been a week now that you’d all agreed to meet, and you knew Chanhee hated last minute cancellations. He wasn’t going to let you live this down, even with an apology. Still, you end up texting Chanhee apologizing, and telling him what was wrong with Hyunjae, to ensure that he wouldn’t worry about you not coming back. While he’d likely not let you live it down, at least he’d be more forgiving.

 For the next few hours, when they appear, you wipe away beads of sweat from Hyunjae’s forehead. You hadn’t come here prepared, so you end up attempting to keep yourself busy while also monitoring Hyunjae’s condition. It feels strange to have free reign of his apartment, just as you had when you were younger. It had been so long that you almost felt like a stranger intruding. But the stuffiness of the place wasn’t doing his fever any good, and you couldn’t allow him to stay sick because of a sacrifice he’d made on your behalf. You cycle through some light cleaning to help with the atmosphere of the place, wiping down and disinfecting surfaces while also cleaning up stray laundry and trash floating about, and doing the dishes. All this while tending to Hyunjae and keeping watch of his temperature.

 There comes a point where you think you’ve done too much, and you return to Hyunjae’s side, settling back on the pillow on the floor you’d set down for yourself earlier. You’re relieved to see Hyunjae’s labored breathing has eased up, and his brow is no longer furrowed against the pain he’d likely been in at the peak of the fever. Reaching up, you brush away a strand of hair from his forehead, dabbing the washcloth against his skin once more. For the upteenth time, you find yourself admiring his sharp yet soft features. This time, you can’t help but take note of the way his long eyelashes rest against his skin, and how soft his eyelids look with his eyes closed and how peaceful he looks with his lips slightly parted, lower lip slightly jutting out in a pout. You’re amazed that even while sick and pallid, he still looks this handsome.

 “Hyunjae,” you murmur, patting the cloth against his forehead one more time before setting it aside. You rest your arm on the side of the couch, then your chin on top of it. You feel a drowsiness overtaking you, having not realized you’d actually done quite a bit of tasks around his apartment. “You should’ve told me you were getting sick. I want you to get better soon.”

 This doesn’t count as the courage you’d finally mustered up—and you know you’ll have to do this all over again to be satisfied with yourself—but you reach up, pushing a bit more hair off his forehead. “Please don’t be sick, Hyunjae. I like you a lot, so you have to get better. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

 As you pull your hand away from Hyunjae’s forehead, you’re surprised when your wrist is caught suddenly—immediately recognizing the long, lithe fingers that are wrapped around it as Hyunjae’s. You blink, startled, lowering your gaze from his forehead to his face. Hyunjae’s brown eyes blink at you, bleary, but not quite as unfocused as they had been before.

 “Am I dreaming?” He mumbles, much more coherent than before.

 “H-Hyunjae—?” You hadn’t expected him to be awake. Had he heard what you’d just said?

 “Is this a dream?” He repeats, staring at you, before glancing to the side at your wrist he has hold of. Hyunjae shifts his hand, sliding his palm up your wrist against your own palm, engulfing your hand with his own as he entwines his fingers with yours. You stare at your hands, surprised. Just yesterday you’d done this and he’d acted as though he’d been burned.

 A part of you wants to tell him he is. Maybe he’s still feverish enough that he won’t know any better. But the selfish voice at the back of your head tells you not to risk saying it—to not risk the moment.

 “N-no… it’s not a dream.”

 “Good,” Hyunjae mumbles. You feel him shift on the couch, giving your hand a squeeze as he does so. The movement causes you to turn your head, looking at him again—his sudden proximity catching you off guard. What catches you even more off guard is the way he leans in, softly pressing his lips against your own.

 You blink a few times, before allowing your eyelids to flutter closed. Hyunjae’s lips meld with yours—softly, tenderly; shyly. You can feel his uncertainty as he kisses you, but just beyond that there’s also a needy hunger. There needs to be more but there’s no energy for that. Yet Hyunjae pours his everything into the kiss, as softly yet surely as he can. Years of emotions and love and yearning flow out against your lips and you can feel it in the slight intensity and the way he tastes on you.

 If he weren’t sick, you’d allow yourself to suffocate against his lips—for him to steal every last breath from you. You can’t describe the giddiness that suddenly flows into your chest and stomach in words, but it feels so right. It felt nothing like the love you’d thought you’d had before.

 When Hyunjae breaks apart, a small sound of complaint that you have no control over slips from the back of your throat. You wished that kiss would continue for an eternity.

 Hyunjae chuckles. “I know,” he mumbles, giving your hand a squeeze again. “But I’m going to get you sick.”

 “It’s okay, I don’t get sick easily.”

 “I deserve that one,” Hyunjae mutters with a scoff, smiling sleepily. He pulls his hand from your grasp and rests it at the back of your head, pulling your head down with him as he lays back on the couch again. You rest your head against the cushions where you sit on the floor, and Hyunjae immediately snuggles a bit closer, breathing in your scent. You feel his thumb rub in a circle at the back of your head.

 “I like you a lot, too. And I always have, for such a long time. So please don’t let this be a dream when I’m better and wake up,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a soft peck to the crown of your head.

 You reach behind you, taking his hand from the top of your head to link your fingers again, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand.

 “It won’t be. I promise.”