#which is a really sad thought to have because i don’t know how to go about fixing that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

niningtori · 3 hours ago

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the way we were before | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: you've been in love with beomgyu for as long as you've known him. deep down, you've always thought that he loved you, too; so when he tells you that he's engaged to another woman, you decide to break it all off after a nasty fight in which he shows you just how little you mean to him. a life-ending accident seems to put your feelings to rest, for good. just when you think it's all over, however, you awaken to a time before everything fell apart; and you're determined not to repeat the same mistakes. it's just that beomgyu can't seem to let you go.

genre: ANGST (literally so much angst it's not even funny), romance, second chancelau, rebirthlau, she falls first but he falls harder, possessive!beomgyu

warnings: mcd (and rebirth), somewhat graphic depictions of death/a corpse, suicidal thoughts, you can interpret a scene at the end as somewhat suggestive but not really

word count: 12.7k

notes: this work contains a lot of angst... and that's coming from ME. this might be too sad to the point of being corny but luckily i was born on the cob. don't be mean to me tho i'm going thru it rn. feedback also means the world 2 me <3

some things are a matter of course. for example, when you were initially paired with beomgyu for a project in your senior year of college, it was a matter of course to fall in love with him. supporting him morally and emotionally while he struggled throughout the rest of the year and well into his adult career? well, that was a matter of course, too. being with him every day, spending every spare second you had with the intention to make him happy, and giving up any concept of self-preservation in exchange for even a morsel of his affection? the answer doesn’t even need to be said. through it all, you’ve suspected that all of the intimacy that you’ve nurtured will inevitably end up with you two being together, of course.

you haven’t done any of it for the outcome. truly, you haven't. you make him happy simply because it makes you happy just to see him shine. he’s always been such a bright, sunny boy, and it’s always been enough just to be the one who helps maintain his true personality. it absolutely kills you to see him hurting, so it isn’t unusual to drop everything, be it work or social events, just to give him advice, give him comfort, or even just give him company. while he certainly doesn't show his affection towards you as profusely as you do to him, you know he cares about you. you can see it in the way he notices the little things about you, and in the way he listens to you with full attentiveness, even when you have nothing particularly interesting to tell him. when everyone talks over you, he tells you that he wants to hear what you have to say. and that’s enough.

with all of this in mind, you jump at his invitation to hang out at his apartment. he’s been a little distracted lately, cancelling plans together for reasons unknown. it’s been odd, to be sure, but you know he’ll tell you whatever’s been bothering him soon enough. he always does. you greet him with takeout from his favorite restaurant in tow as a surprise, and he takes it with that smile you love so damn much. he looks a little nervous, but happy, mostly, and you don’t have to wait for very long before he clears his throat and announces that he has something important to tell you.

you try not to get your hopes up, but who can blame you for feeling a hint of anticipation? maybe he’ll finally confess his feelings to you. maybe that’s why he’s been a little weird. naturally, since your mind is racing so much with romantic hypotheticals, of course it comes as a shock to you that he simply says, “i’m getting married.”

beomgyu, notorious for never even having the time nor interest to date around, is not only dating, but engaged. your jaw drops when he tells you that it all happened so quickly, he doesn’t even know how it unfolded. all he knows is that once he met her, a whirlwind romance swept him up, and just a few months have been more than enough for him to know that she’s the one. in fact, as he so fondly declares, he knew it from the very first moment he saw her at the dinner between the company you two work for and her own. the one where you were his “date”. you knew that it wasn’t a real proclamation of love or affection for him to ask you to accompany him, but you can’t say that you weren’t beaming with pride and validation at you being his natural choice. when you arrived at the dinner, you remember some of your coworkers jokingly whispering to you to just make it official already. you spent the night mostly by his side, looking up at him in admiration and love. as it turns out, the time you spent fawning over him was equally spent with him falling in love at first sight with another woman. you weren’t even apart for very long, but apparently he met her when you two broke apart to mingle.

it’s a kick in the chest, to put it bluntly. you feel the wind being knocked out of your lungs, and you’re struggling to breathe. the first time you caught a glimpse of him, you knew that any attempts to stop yourself from falling in love with him were hopeless. his smile, his charm, his playfulness immediately had you enraptured. you’ve always, always known that he didn't have a similar experience with you, but you just assumed that he simply isn’t the type to be caught up in such childish romanticism. you've always loved him outwardly and persistently, and you've shown him that in every single way you possibly know how. you dared to hope that maybe he was just the type to quietly reciprocate. obviously, with how emphatically he’s professing his love for another woman, you were very, very wrong.

“what's the matter? aren't you happy for me?” you struggle to answer, but he continues as if he doesn’t notice. “you know, i was thinking you could be, like, my best man. i've seen people do it these days—you'd pretty much be my best woman. i really want you to do it. there's no one else i can think of to—well, actually, there's soobin, but you’re my—”

“beomgyu,” you sharply interrupt, wetness pooling in your waterlines. beomgyu may be a little emotionally slow, but he’s not stupid. you know he knows that you've had feelings for him since forever ago. while it hurts, the fact of them being unrequited isn't what really gets you; it’s the fact that he doesn’t have the decency to just tell the truth. he took advantage of your love for him, always calling for you when he needed you, without ever really doing the same for you. “what… what about us?”

“what about us? you’re my best friend, and i want you to be part of my wedding,” he says smoothly, but you level him with a watery stare. as if realization finally dawns on him, he replies in a way you sincerely did not anticipate.

“c’mon, you know i don’t see you like that,” he chuckles with a wave of his hand, and you really would’ve rathered him say literally anything else. you’d prefer it if he had just punched you in the stomach, actually, because that would feel considerably better than this… this humiliation. you’re silent for a moment before you feel the tears you’ve been struggling to keep in cascade down your face. to his credit, he has the decency to look uncomfortable, and his playful smile drops. before he can reply, however, you speak again.

“you knew how i felt about you this whole fucking time, you were just too much of a coward to be honest with me,“ you declare. “if… if you had just told me, i would’ve understood. i-i would've—you didn't have to do it this way.”

“listen, i’m sorry that you’re hurt, but i really didn’t mean—”

“are you really sorry that i’m hurt, or are you sorry that i showed you i’m hurt?” you cut in. “beomgyu, you don’t care about how i feel, just as long as you don’t have to be the one to deal with it.”

“i’m—you're being unfair. i didn't want to hurt your feelings, i just wanted us to stay friends. what's so bad about that? don't you want that?” he seems genuinely puzzled, as if he can't wrap his head around why you'd ever be indignant at the fact that he stayed friends with you mainly for his own comfort.

“jesus christ, beomgyu! a real friend would never do this. you kept me around so i’d keep helping you with work, with life, with what the fuck ever. why can't you just be honest, after all this time? just don’t lie,” you spit.

“i'm not lying! you've helped me a lot, and i'm grateful for that, but you can't expect me to just owe you my feelings,” he snaps.

“that's not what this is about, and you know it,” you tremblingly reply, dignity cut right to the bone.

“seriously? that's exactly what this is about. you're an altruistic angel who does nothing wrong, and i'm just a fucking scumbag who takes advantage of you, right? well, i'm sorry, but it's not my fault that you're acting so goddamn crazy over something so stupid.” your eyes burn with an intensity so great, it feels like they're being seared out of your skull. in this moment, you realize that he will never, ever respect you enough to consider you worthy of being leveled with. he doesn't think you're even worth the time. you're his silly, lovesick best friend who's absolutely delusional to the point of being laughable for suggesting that he actually take you seriously, for once. and that revelation breaks you like nothing else.

you won’t do this anymore. you couldn’t even if you wanted to, and you don’t.

“i never want to see you again,” you sob, and while it may seem juvenile to say, you truly mean it. before you can hear beomgyu reply, you dash out of the building and to your car.

everything is a blur when you peel out of the parking lot and onto the road. your eyes are pouring out thick, hot tears, and you try your best to swipe them away as soon as they come, but it’s difficult when they’re seemingly endless. you don’t even attempt to hold in your sobs—they’re far too deep and frequent for that. if someone were to glance at you through their window, they’d think you were absolutely insane. and maybe you are, you don’t know. maybe you’re insane for thinking that things could’ve ever been any different. maybe you were just imagining everything that seemed like confirmation that he loved you back. maybe it was all a delusion because you wanted it so fucking badly. and maybe that’s your fault.

but did he really have to crush you like this? he knew you were in in love with him. he knew you were waiting for him. he knew what he meant to you. why couldn’t he have just been honest instead of stringing you along? to ask for him to return your feelings would’ve been too much, you've always understood that to be the case; but even to the bitter end, he’ll call you crazy before he tells you the truth.

you try to keep yourself focused, but everything’s a blur with your eyes bleary with a film of tears. you have half a mind to just pull over and have a meltdown on the side of the road, but before you can do that, you hear your phone ringing. you pick it up in a frenzy, silently hoping that it’s beomgyu with an apology, but the number is unknown. you don’t even have time to feel disappointed before you look up and see that you’re barrelling past a red light. in a panic, you realize that you’re about to crash headfirst into another car. you swerve your steering wheel as hard as you can, seemingly avoiding danger, but the sight of a tree coming closer and closer into your vision paralyzes you with fear. you try to brake, but you’re going too quickly for it to be of any use.

the collision is bone-shattering in the literal sense. you’d think you’d feel adrenaline alone in such a situation, but you can feel pain bursting out of every cell of your body as you still after being thrown back and forth in your seat. every organ, every bone, feels like it’s just been crushed, and not for the first time today, you’re struggling to breathe.

as you slip out of consciousness, one immovable thought resounds in your head: i wish i never met him.

the sound of your alarm ringing pulls you out of the darkness. your eyes shoot open and you sit straight up in pure shock. while you pant—just trying to catch your breath—you grab your chest, clutching at your shirt as you feel your heart drumming erratically. did you survive? you scramble out of your bed and look in the mirror. there’s nothing on your face. no fresh wounds, bruises, no scars from what just happened. that can’t be right. you know you were torn up from the collision, and there’s no earthly way you came out of it unscathed. was it a dream? it can’t be; you can still feel the phantom of pain on every inch of you, even when there’s no indication of any material harm. you remember every second you spent before and after wrapping yourself around that tree. does that mean you’re dead? are you in the afterlife?

that doesn’t seem right, either. you don’t know much about what the afterlife is supposed to be like, if there’s even one at all, but this feels too real and familiar. you reach for your phone, with its alarm still blaring, and as you hit snooze, you notice the date. it’s just a few months before… before everything happened. did you go back in time? is that even possible? you try to reconcile yourself with that fact for a long, long time. so long, in fact, that you don't even realize you're supposed to be heading to work until it's five minutes after you're supposed to be there.

as if on cue, your phone rings with your boss’ contact displayed on the screen.

“hello,” he says as casually as anyone ever can. this just solidifies the idea that your accident must never have happened, because if it had, he certainly wouldn’t be greeting you as if it’s just another day.

“h-hey,” you attempt to reply, and your voice is so choked and thick with emotion, he can hear how badly you’re struggling to speak at all.

“is everything alright?” he asks, concern laced in his tone. that’s enough to make you break, and before you can stop it, you’re outright sobbing into the phone.

“i’m—i just—i don’t think i can come in today.” you fumble for an excuse, but it’s difficult to think straight as you feel your mind breaking down. “i, um, i—”

“hey, it’s okay. you can take the day off, alright? don’t worry about anything, just focus on feeling better.” his words, so comforting in nature, do nothing but make you cry even harder. it feels nice to be cared for like this. if you had the coherence to think so, you’d wonder how baffled he must be at your behavior. luckily, you’re far too gone to care. you think you end up stammering out something similar to a thank you, but you’re not quite sure. either way, the call ends, and you collapse onto your bed. you curl yourself up and tuck your knees to your chest as you grip yourself as tightly as you can. this is real. you’ve gone back. thank god, you’ve gone back.

you cry and cry until no more tears will come out, and while you try to keep yourself awake as the hours pass by, the relief you feel coalesces with the enticing nature of your soft bed, so you can't help but drift off. it’s different from the way you drifted off mere hours ago. it’s a lot warmer and kinder, and you're so, so fucking tired, you don’t even want to fight it anymore.

a knock on your door wakes you from your sleep. it’s a good thing, too, because you were having a nightmare. rejection, devastation, primal fear, mind-numbing pain, then total darkness repeated incessantly in your head for hours on end. you swipe away your tears, but they continue to flow as you practically drag yourself to your door. you’re so disoriented, you don’t even think to check to see who it is before opening it. what a mistake that turns out to be.

“hey! whoa—are you okay?” he asks, and who else could it be besides beomgyu? your heart pounds in your chest, and even more tears stream down your face as you let out a sob. his mouth contorts into a frown. his face, previously so endearing to you, makes you feel absolutely repulsed. you lost everything for the figure standing before you, and he has the nerve to ask you if you’re okay. a fire is ignited in your stomach, and you feel yourself on the precipice of carnal rage. while you’re trying to suppress that feeling, he speaks again.

“i heard you called in, so i thought i’d check on you. do you have a fever?” he questions, reaching out his hand to check your forehead for abnormal warmth. without even thinking about it, you smack his hand away.

“don’t touch me,” you all but growl, but beomgyu is undeterred.

“what’s the matter? i don’t care if you get me sick; i could use the time off,” he teases with a grin, but your face remains twisted up in pure anger.

“get out,” you mumble between clenched teeth.

“what?” he asks, and it's unclear if that's because he's confused, or because he simply didn't hear you. either way, you don't care.

“get out,” you repeat, louder this time, but not lacking any of the previous anger. your erratic behavior is enough to finally irritate beomgyu.

“fine, whatever. forget i even bothered,” he scoffs as he stalks out of the door. you slam it behind him before falling to the floor. this is your chance. you came back too late to avoid ever meeting him again, but it’s still good enough for you. from now on, you two will live completely separate lives spent being nothing to each other. owing nothing to each other. again, you find yourself sobbing in relief.

when you return to work the next day, the first thing you do is head to your boss’ office. he looks relieved to see you for a moment before he notices the envelope in your hand. with the way his smile drops, you know he immediately knows what it is.

“what’s that?” he asks, though the tension in the air is more than enough confirmation that he has no doubts about what the letter reads.

“my resignation,” you tell him.

“may i ask what this is about?” he probes. no, he can’t, because even if you told him, he’d never believe you.

“i just don’t think this position is right for me,” you deadpan, and the look on his face shows that he doesn’t really buy it.

“you’ve worked so hard for so long, and you want to give up now?” he has a point. your company is on the brink of a major deal with another company, which will result in a financial breakthrough like none other, if successful. as fate would have it, said company is the one in which beomgyu’s future wife works, and the dinner where the two of them met is the celebratory party for such success. you’d laugh at the circumstances if you could. “whatever the issue is, we can work it out. just don’t leave before we do this. we need you, and even if you want to leave after we close the deal, you’ll still be rewarded for everything you’ve done. don’t you want to see that happen?” you do. you really, really do. you’ve given so much of yourself for this opportunity, and you really want to see it work out. you guess, in a way, you already have seen it; but if you leave now, that’ll never happen. this particular project needs you to get off of its feet.

but can you really stand to see beomgyu for a second longer? have his mere presence fuck with your head? is it even worth it? you’re about to declare that it most certainly is not, but you stop yourself. the money will be good for you to start a new life. maybe you’ll move buildings, maybe even to a new city, maybe across the country, who knows? you’ll be more than comfortable with this potential payout, and then you can start a new life somewhere where you know nobody, and nobody knows you.

“i want a new partner, at least,” you counter, and his face morphs into a grimace. he’s undoubtedly confused at your sudden aversion towards beomgyu, but he doesn't mention it to you.

“that’ll be difficult. i need you both for this to work.” you’re about to flatout deny him, but he continues. “if you can just make it through this, i promise that you can go wherever you want to go, and i’ll even give you a bonus for your trouble. deal?” you purse your lips as you mull it over. if you can suffer through being partners with beomgyu, your move will be considerably easier. still, you’re undecided before you have an epiphany: in just a few months, beomgyu will meet his future wife and fall head over heels in love with her. all you have to do is ignore him until then, and he’ll inevitably leave you alone once he meets her. so what if beomgyu’s here? you don’t want to care about him anymore. and once everything’s settled, you’ll pack your life away and start somewhere without the bad memories.

“okay,” you reply, and his face breaks out into a grin.

beomgyu is very visibly ruffled today, which you would immediately notice if you just spared him a glance, but you do no such thing. your lack of attention towards him serves to only rile him up even further. he wants to be stubborn—act out until you apologize to him, but once he realizes you have no intention of doing so, he finally relents and approaches you.

“hey,” he says coolly, still a little annoyed, but prepared to forgive you. you look up at him blankly, and he’s unsettled by just how empty your eyes look, so he nervously asks you, “are you… are you feeling better?” you look at him as if he just spouted the most asinine question of all time, and for the first time ever, he feels small under your gaze. he shifts awkwardly on his feet before you break the silence.

“i’m fine,” you tell him. he waits for you to ask him how he is, but the words never come. in fact, you turn away and bury your nose in your work as if he’s not standing there, waiting dumbly for you to respond as you usually would. well, whatever. you’ll have to talk to him, eventually. especially since you two are working on such a big project.

you don’t really talk to him, though, aside from what’s absolutely necessary. for most of the day, you silently slide papers over to him without even deigning to look at him while you do it. when you do have to speak to him, your words are cold and detached, as if even speaking to him is a chore. it’s like you’re looking past him, almost. like you don’t even really see him, and he’s never felt as unsettled by a gaze in his life.

at lunch, you quietly remain at your desk instead of joining beomgyu like you usually would, and you can't quite bring yourself to eat. you just feel sick by this entire situation, and while you know you need food to survive, you’re sure you’ll vomit if you try to eat anything.

beomgyu, on his part, leaves you alone, though he desperately wants to try to get you to eat with him. he won’t admit it, but he’s actually afraid that you’ll reject him again. he doesn't know why, but the thought of you doing so slashes at his heart. this is a mystery to him. he shouldn’t really care if you reject him or not, since he’s been quietly rejecting you for years, but he can’t help it. still, as he watches you space out at your desk, he tries to will himself to bear the brunt of a possible denial before a coworker he recognizes approaches you.

you don’t even notice mingi walking up to you, so you jump in surprise when he greets you. you’re pretty familiar with him, but you’re not particularly close, so you’re a bit surprised by his arrival.

“can i sit with you?” he asks, grinning as he asks it. you nod in response, and he grins even wider before he pulls up a chair and seats himself in front of you.

“are you going to eat?” he questions, and you shake your head.

“not hungry,” you reply. he frowns.

“you still need to eat. you need energy, especially since you’re working so hard.” you’re actually a little sheepish because of his words. so he’s noticed how hard you’ve been working? it feels nice to be appreciated. is he worried about you?

“i’ll eat later,” you lie. he seems a bit reluctant, but he eventually nods.

“make sure you eat, okay? i’ll—i’ll text you and make sure you have. is that alright?” you’re stunned for a few seconds before agreeing, and he ends up sliding you his phone so you can put your number in it.

beomgyu watches it all from his desk, and he feels a sense of loss. is it because you’re directing your attention elsewhere? that has to be it, right? it can't be any deeper than that, but somewhere nearly unreachable inside of him, he feels an unfamiliar sensation scratching at his heart, begging him to acknowledge it. but he shakes away the thought. you’re acting really weird, but that’s okay. you love him, and you’ll get back to normal really soon.

that’s what he tells himself, but you remain as cold as ever throughout the rest of the week. you don’t look at him with those adoring eyes, and you don’t even crack a smile at his attempted jokes. he feels like he's going insane, as if he's on the brink of understanding something really important, but he can't quite make it there.

it all comes to a head when beomgyu shows up late back from grabbing lunch. he's done this a million times before, and he's always been greeted by your insistence that his tardiness isn't a big deal. in spite of the tension between you two, he still assumes that you'll be as forgiving as ever.

“hey, sorry i'm late. i got caught up with eating and didn't realize how late it was getting,” he says casually. he searches your face for any traces of leniency, for the indulgence you used to give him, but there is none. only anger, and maybe even something like regret, though he can't quite understand the latter.

“don't be late again. we don't have time for this,” you say coldly before sticking your nose back into your computer, effectively ignoring anything else beomgyu could say to placate you.

you two work late into the night. beomgyu gets so caught up in his work, too afraid to draw your ire again, but when he realizes he hasn't heard any noise coming from you in a while, he peers over to see you staring blankly at the wall. your face seems expressionless, but your eyes are what horrifies him. dead, empty, hopeless. “a-are you okay?”

the sound of his voice does nothing to break you out of your trance, however. in fact, it seems to have triggered something in you, decimated a dam that was already leaking. your eyes still look blank as tears begin to leak out of your eyes. they fall slowly at first, then incessantly. it's hard to reconcile the steady stream with the way your face remains completely devoid of emotion.

tentatively, he places a hand on your shoulder. suddenly, you're jolted awake, eyes now looking as composed and indifferent as ever.

“are you okay? w-what's wrong?” he asks anxiously,

you hurriedly wipe away your tears before you say, “nothing. just thinking about something.” you redirect your attention to your work, just trying to fully shake the way you were just locked into the memory of you dying alone.

“what could you possibly be thinking about to make you look like that?” he asks concernedly, his voice unintentionally rising in frustration. your eyes harden before you turn to him.

“none of your business,” you say firmly. before he can say anything, you're packing up your things. “i'm going to call it a night and go home.”

“wait! talk to me! what's been bothering you so much lately? you've been weird for a while now, so just tell me what's going on with you. i'm here. i'm listening,” he says as gently as he can.

“you're here? you're listening?” you sneer. “i'm so honored that you finally give a fuck about how i'm feeling,” you say sarcastically. he frowns at your words.

“what are you talking about? i'm always here for you,” he says, and he looks so genuine, it makes you even angrier. he sincerely thinks he's telling the truth. so fucking clueless and selfish.

“are you? do you think offering up your ear once in a blue moon makes you an altruistic angel or something?” you know he can't understand that you're throwing his own words back in his face, because he can't even remember saying them, but you don't care. it just feels too damn vindicating to stop yourself. “beomgyu, you're only as available to me as is convenient to you. you'd never put yourself out of your way to comfort me. meanwhile, i've always been ‘here’ and ‘listening’ at your will. i don't need your pity, and i certainly don't want it.” he's stunned into silence. you're absolutely correct, he realizes with a sinking feeling. before he can formulate the words to defend himself, you pack up your things and leave the office.

in the following weeks, you realize that mingi is… nice. really, really nice. you’re not used to prospective romantic partners actually seeming to like you, so the feeling is foreign, but not unwelcome. do you have feelings for him outside of appreciation? well, not really. in the back of your mind, you honestly doubt that you’re even capable of having feelings for other people anymore, but you try not to think about it too much. if you seriously search for an answer, you fear you won’t like what you find.

mingi is diligent, though, and you like that about him. now that you’ve made it clear that you’re not involved with beomgyu (and never want to be), he’s pulling out all the stops to charm you. lunches you would previously spend with beomgyu are now spent laughing with mingi. in the same way, downtime at work, which would normally entail catching up with beomgyu and maybe helping with a few of his assignments, are now reserved for chats with mingi. as beomgyu watches you two giggle with your heads together, he wonders what you two could possibly be talking about to ever be that funny. his jaw ticks in irritation at the scene. most notably, though, is the fact that instead of spending your off days with him, you flatout reject him with no explanation. not even with a perfunctory “sorry”. he doesn't have to wonder what you’ve been doing when he hears your coworkers gossiping about how you're always hanging out with mingi.

beomgyu feels you slipping away, and it brings a sense of panic he’s never known before. but why? he shouldn't care about your romantic endeavors. granted, you haven’t had one during the entire time that you've known him, but it’s only natural that he supports you as your best friend. best friend. does that term even apply to him anymore? he wants to insist that it does, but as the weeks turn into months, your disgust for him becomes clearer and clearer. as he sits across from you and mingi at an after-work dinner with your department, he watches as mingi flirtatiously whispers into your ear. when some of your coworkers tease the two of you about it, he realizes with sickening certainty that he doesn't just want to be your best friend, he wants to be the one who sits next to you. he wants to be the one your coworkers joke about being your boyfriend, and he wants them to be right about it. the time you two have spent apart has shown him that he can't imagine anyone else occupying the space beside you. with an overwhelming sense of clarity, beomgyu realizes that this feeling, so deep and all-consuming, is love.

how could he not love you? regardless of everything you've done for him, you're still so perfect to him, for him. he finds himself appreciating things he previously took for granted. you're beautiful, caring, funny, and smart. he loves your smile, your laugh, your company. he loves the way you look when you're focused, the way you look so innocent when you sleep. you're the first person he wants to tell any time something happens, good or bad. you're the face he wants to wake up to in the morning. you're the only person he trusts to be his partner for the rest of his life. and now, it's clear that he can't just let you go without a fight.

as everyone begins to leave the restaurant one by one, he follows you out into the parking lot, determined to make his feelings known. even if you don't reciprocate them anymore, he's willing to put in the effort to make you love him again. and even if you don't… even if you can't… the desire to simply be next to you supersedes the need to be loved back.

you don't realize that beomgyu is trailing after you until you get to your car. he calls out your name as you're about to pull the door handle. with a sigh, you turn around.

“what is it?” you ask flatly.

“are you serious about mingi?” he asks firmly, but he already knows that you are not. the way you look at mingi is laughable compared to the way you looked at beomgyu before your sudden change in behavior.

“yep,” you say.

“no, you're not. i can tell,” he argues with conviction.

“oh, and you know me so fucking well, huh?” you snark.

“i do,” he tells you, stepping closer. “i know you, and i know you don't really like him. not really.” damn. he caught you.

“just because i don’t like him now, doesn't mean i can’t like him later,” you insist.

“so what? you’re just going to string him along while hoping you’ll like him someday? are you just going to spend the rest of your life never really caring about anyone? you can't live like that.” his words leave no room for argument, but you’ll be damned before you don't at least try.

“you’re right, i shouldn’t lead him on, but what’s it matter to you? even if it doesn't work out with him, maybe i’ll meet somebody who i can tolerate, and who can tolerate me. i don’t think i need anything more than that.” beomgyu flinches at your bizarre words, but he's already reconciled with the idea that even if you don't want him anymore, he'll still take whatever you want to give him with a smile on his face.

“then what about me? i… i can be that person.” he's so nervous, you can tell that it took all of his courage to say that. but who cares?

“you can’t,” you argue.

“why not?”

“that would mean i’d have to be able to tolerate you, and i don’t want to do that.” not anymore.

“why are you acting like this? you’re acting like i’m so fucking horrible, but you used to lo—” he stops himself, but you both know he was going to bring up the love you had for him. “i just want to know what changed.”

“i did. i changed.”

“but why? i mean, i didn’t realize it before, and i know i wasn’t always the best, but i’ve always had feelings for y—”

“don’t even bother finishing that sentence. you don't like me at all,” you sneer, “you just don’t like seeing me move on.” this makes him pause, and even you don’t have the heart to pretend like you can’t see the hurt in his eyes.

“why can’t you ever just believe me?” he asks quietly. “i’m telling you i love you, but you don’t even care. i’m saying that it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but you’re acting like… like i'm disgusting to you.” he looks like he's about to cry, and it makes you all the more frustrated.

“you don’t understand,” you reply in between clenched teeth.

“then help me understand. i just want to know why. i just want to know how to fix it. how can i bring you back?”

“you can't. look, i’m—” and you’re about to apologize, but you just can’t make yourself do it. “you’ll get it really, really soon. you won’t even remember feeling this way, i can promise you that, and you’ll forget all about me.”

“what are you talking about?” he says exasperatedly. beomgyu may not have always been the best of friends towards you, but he can recognize when you’re holding yourself back. “what aren't you telling me?” you purse your lips in response.

“nothing. there's no point in saying anything, because you wouldn't understand even if you tried. you wouldn't remember—fuck, never mind. just let it go, beomgyu. i have.” but he can't just let it go. this whole fucking thing as an enigma to him. but your words are… odd. what do you mean he wouldn't remember? there's nothing to remember, no matter how much he tries. before he can respond, you get into your car and drive away.

“c’mon, you know i don’t see you like that,” beomgyu tells you, forcing an awkward laugh. your expression immediately crumbles, and he begins to shift uncomfortably when he realizes that he must’ve said the wrong thing. your silence is deafening, ringing in his ears, but he still tries to maintain a smile. maybe you’ll lighten up. maybe you’ll go back to the way you were before. maybe you’ll even crack at smile at this ridiculous situation when you realize that he’s right in his assumption that you’re just being emotional. your feelings for him can only go so deep, right? you can go back to being friends after this, just the way he likes it.

his smile is wiped clean off of his face when your eyes redden and well up in pure, unadulterated hurt. hurt he’s never seen before. he fumbles for the right words, but before he can find them, you break the suffocating silence.

“you knew how i felt about you this whole fucking time, you were just too much of a coward to be honest with me. if… if you had just told me, i would’ve understood. i-i would've—you didn't have to do it this way.” any delusions beomgyu has that you’ll just let this go are promptly flushed away at your biting tone. jesus christ. you’re right, and he knows it. he flounders for a response, but nothing he can possibly say could really be enough.

he spends the duration of the argument mainly trying to defend himself. honestly? he doesn't want to remember everything you two say, but he knows he's being nasty in an effort to keep himself from reconciling with the fact that he is, indeed, a coward. he knows he’s never been the greatest friend to you, though he’s always justified it by recalling the times where he did do thoughtful things for you. when you tell him that your resentment isn’t about the fact that he doesn't feel the same way, but because of the fact that he won’t own up to his actions, he feels a stab to his pride. before he can stop himself, he lashes out.

“seriously? that's exactly what this is about. you're the altruistic angel who does nothing wrong, and i'm just a fucking scumbag who takes advantage of you, right? well, i'm sorry, but it's not my fault that you're acting so goddamn crazy over something so stupid.” he regrets the words as soon as as he says them. every syllable seems so vile as they leave his lips, but he can't stop himself. when he sees you crack at his words, he really wishes he had just kept his fucking mouth shut.

“i never want to see you again,” you choke out between sobs, and he feels a piercing pain shoot through his body, all the way down to his bones. you don’t mean that. there’s no way you mean that. you care about him. you love him, and even if he doesn't feel quite the same way, he loves you, too. but one look at your resolute face is enough to tell him that you mean it. he wills himself to say something—anything—but you rush out of the door before he can quite muster up the courage to speak.

he stands in a stunned silence for longer than he could ever rightfully justify, but a call from an unfamiliar number eventually pulls him out of his daze. usually, he’d reject it and chalk it up to spam, but something tells him that he should—needs to—answer it. with shaky hands, he accepts the call.

“h-hello?”

the response mostly sounds rather clinical in nature, really. there’s a perfunctory greeting before the monotone voice detachedly states that there’s been an accident, and he will need to come to the coroner’s office to accurately identify the corpse, which had been declared deceased at the scene. as it turns out, he was your first emergency contact.

“we are deeply, deeply sorry.” the final words are the only ones that seem to hold any hint of an emotion in them, but beomgyu is too preoccupied to hear it. in a daze, he gets in his car and makes his way to the coroner’s office. hoping, praying, needing for this to be a bad dream. as he comes to find out, it is not.

beomgyu’s head whips up in horror, and he’s panting like mad in between whimpers. tears incessantly pour out of his eyes, wetting his flushed cheeks. was it all a dream? there’s no way; it was too real to be a dream. he was there—he lived it. no, no, no…

“beomgyu?” a voice says, somewhat breaking him out of his panic. his bleary eyes snap up to the doorway to see you standing there, your eyebrows knit with concern and confusion. you two have been working late again, awkwardly alone together once more after his confession. you saw that he had fallen asleep, but he looked so tired, you couldn't bring yourself to wake him up. “are… are you okay?” he's absolutely frozen as you tentatively approach him, pausing a bit uncertainly before approaching him to get a closer look. he grabs you and tugs you towards him, wrapping his arms around you in an almost bruising grip. he nuzzles his wet face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent in between shudders.

“beomgyu, are you sick? did you have a bad dream?” you ask. his heart would flutter at your concern, concern you haven’t shown him for so long, in any other context; but as it is, he’s far too distraught to appreciate it.

“i… i remember,” he croaks, trying to get even closer to you, as if doing so is the only way to keep you safe. you’d like to break out of his embrace, but he’s so distraught while you’re so off-guard, you don’t do it just yet.

“remember what? something about the project? we can—”

“no. i’m—i remember… i remember losing you.” he can’t quite bring himself to be any clearer, but you seem to understand him, anyway. you stiffen in his arms before prying him off of you. he fumbles for you, just to touch you again, but you push him away. you exert very little force, but it’s firm and unrelenting.

“oh,” you reply, looking a little lost, but mostly just cold. he's basically wailing now, but he tries his best to answer.

“i’m so, so fucking sorry. i didn’t—”

“what, you didn’t mean to? you’re sorry? maybe so, but does it matter?” you cut in, almost snarling. now that he remembers, all of the feelings, all of the resentment you’ve kept bottled up come tumbling out of your mouth. “what's the point in telling me this now, after everything? you’re not sorry, beomgyu. you only care because i’m—because i was gone. i don’t want to hear about your regrets; they’re worthless to me.” he recoils as if you just punched him. his eyes turn even redder than they were before, too, and he’s silent at your words.

he wants to tell you that you’re wrong, because he really is sorry, but can he truthfully say that he’d realize his feelings if you didn’t… go? he can’t. for all he knows, he’d have rejected you forever. he's so ashamed, he'd rather die than feel this way. even so, he wants to attempt to explain himself; you deserve that much. before he can reply, however, you rise and stalk towards the doorway. it’s reminiscent of the way you left when everything happened, and he desperately tries to follow you, grabbing your arm before you can make it out the door.

“don’t touch me. don’t you ever touch me,” you seethe, ripping yourself out of his grip as if the mere feeling of his hands on you burns through your skin, and he staggers backwards. he keeps his arm somewhat outstretched, though. just in case you change your mind.

“don’t leave like this. i-i don’t want you to get hurt.” not again.

“what’s it matter to you?” you sneer. “you didn’t care before, so i won’t waste my life on you ever again.” his eyes widen in terror, and tears fall even more profusely than they already were. you begin to leave, but to your regret—and to his anguish, the angriest part of you forces you to turn around and face him again.

“do you want to know what my last thought was?” you ask, face mostly blank besides the slight traces of disdain in your eyes, and he’s too terrified to move or even speak at all. he knows whatever you say will be something that breaks him, so he tries to shrink himself to be as small as possible; subconsciously praying that doing so will make him disappear in the face of your anger. still, your eyes remain locked on his face—narrowing in on him regardless of his efforts. “it was of you, actually. i was wishing i’d never met you.” he visibly flinches as he gasps sharply, feeling like you just knocked the air out of his lungs. he feels like he can’t breathe. it would have felt better if you had just ripped his heart out of his chest, because as it is, it’s aching so badly, he wishes you had.

his lips tremble, and he looks like he’s just heard the worst news of his life. and he has. you hate him that much? you regret all of the time you had together to the point of wishing it had never happened? he’s never, ever regretted a moment he’s spent with you, but he guesses your company has always been better than his. how could it not be? you’ve always given him more than he could ever reasonably ask for, and even if you hadn’t, you’re still a much better person than he is. better to the extent of making him realize just how unworthy he is.

he lets you leave, but his anxiety makes him frantically pace about the room. he tugs at his hair, willing himself to calm down, but he just can’t. after a few minutes, he texts you and asks if you made it home. to his relief, it says that you’ve read the message, so he knows you must be okay. still, you don’t respond.

the deal is tied up exceptionally smoothly; you’ve done it before, after all, so that comes as no surprise. on the night of the celebratory dinner, you take mingi as your date. you’ve already told him that you don’t see things panning out, but he actually takes it really well. maybe telling him that you’re planning on moving helped smooth things over. still, he insists that you accompany him to the dinner, just as friends. you oblige.

it’s mostly the same as you remember. you spend the night mixing with your coworkers for the last time, and it’s bittersweet. they don’t know that this will be the last time you see them, as your two weeks before resignation have already passed in secret, and you’ll spend the next few weeks just packing and finding a new place to stay far, far away from here. it’s freeing, in a way.

at some point, your manager announces that he’ll be making a toast, and the room quiets as everyone’s attention is placed on him.

“firstly, i’d like to celebrate the success of this collaboration. everyone has worked hard to make everything come to fruition. secondly, i’d like to recognize two of the people who made this possible.” he specially thanks you and beomgyu, which is normal, but the unexpected happens when he voices his regret that you’ll be resigning.

your coworkers look at you in shock, but one person in particular is especially stunned. beomgyu. your manager probably thanks employees of the other company, too, but he doesn’t hear it. other voices, other people, are drowned out by the buzzing in his ears. you’re leaving, and it's all because of him.

he tries to drown his feelings in alcohol, stomach burning with every round, but the regret never seems to numb. the room seems to be spinning, and he looks visibly ill. eventually, a familiar figure takes a seat next to him. ah. his previous fiancée.

“hey,” she says, somewhat coyly. he doesn't respond. “wow, are you okay? you look a little green. how are you getting home?” again, he doesn't respond. she actually appears to be embarrassed, but she tries one more time.

“i actually—i came over here because you're really… cute. if you don't have a way home, i can take you. i won't try anything on you, but i can't just let you go home alone. and maybe, you know, when you're sober, we can—”

“beat it,” he snaps. he knows it’s not her fault, and that she hasn’t done anything, but he still can’t help his resentment, even when it should all be directed towards himself. but his recognition of his unfairness isn’t enough for him to care. she blinks in surprise and embarrassment, rising from her seat in defeat.

beomgyu continues to drink until he’s on the verge of passing out, putting his face in his hands. he draws attention from everyone, but he doesn’t have the mind to care. people try to approach him, but he flatly rejects everyone who attempts to offer their help in order to ensure that he gets home safely.

“should you… should you take him home?” mingi asks. it’s obvious who he’s referring to.

“it’s not my problem,” you reply, a bit more curtly than you intended.

“you’re right, it’s not. but you’re the only one he’ll listen to, and i think you know that.” mingi argues. you sigh. he’s right. as much as you want to blame beomgyu for everything, you’ve come to realize that after the conversation—more like confrontation—you two had, you’re not angry anymore. it was hard to see in the moment, but you’ve begun to question your merciless stance towards him. isn’t it partially your fault that things turned out the way they did? he didn't make you check your phone that day, so isn’t it unfair to completely blame him for everything?

with this in mind, you approach him. he initially bats you away, assuming you’re just another one of his coworkers, but your voice pulls him out of his drunken stupor.

“c’mon. i’ll take you home.” his head whips up in surprise, and he almost thinks you’re joking, but your face is completely serious.

“o-okay,” he replies, sounding extremely docile. you don’t respond, but you begin to walk ahead of him as you head to the exit. he’s having a hard time even following you as he clumsily staggers through the crowd, following you like a lost puppy. hesitantly, he reaches out for your hand, though the fear of you telling him not to touch you remains. you turn back to see his fingers hesitantly outstretched to your hand, and with a look of resignation, you let him grab it as you lead him out.

the ride to his home is a silent one. beomgyu rests his head upon the cold window as he stares at the scenery outside. he doesn’t really take anything in, far too dazed to appreciate the view, but he looks, anyway.

when you enter his apartment, begrudgingly letting him lean on you for support, you take him to his bedroom. he plops down onto his bed in an unnaturally clumsy manner.

“th-thanks for taking me home,” he says meekly.

“mm,” you reply, no inflection of emotion in your tone, getting ready to leave and head to your apartment.

“w-wait! can you… can you stay here tonight?” you look at him doubtfully, but before you can resolutely deny him, he begins to retch. with widened eyes, you pull him up and drag him to his bathroom. he hunches over the toilet and lets everything go. he’s trembling after he’s finished, and you clean him up as best as you can. he melts into your touch as you gently wipe his face. you’re not soothing him with your words like you would’ve a few months ago, but your care, no matter how unwilling you seem to give it, is something he revels in. he brushes his teeth, but he keeps his eyes on your pensive reflection in the mirror. after he's finished, you speak.

“i’ll stay,” you tell him.

“w-what?” he questions, eyes watery.

“i’ll stay for tonight. i’ll take the couch. i just don’t want to leave you when you’re feeling like this. it’s dangerous.”

“n-no! you can stay in the guest room.”

“i need to be able to hear you if something happens,” you argue.

“th-then i’ll sleep on the couch. i don’t want you to—”

“beomgyu, you need to properly rest. if you don’t sleep in your room, i’ll leave.” his face crumbles before he acquiesces with a strained nod.

“good,” you say with a ghost of a smile at his blind obedience, but he's too drunk to notice it. if he had, he would’ve clung to it like a man drowning.

“thank you,” he solemnly whispers.

“goodnight, beomgyu.”

“goodnight,” he says, and you rifle through his drawer for some clothes before heading to his living room and changing. you pull out spare blankets from his linen closet before sliding onto his couch.

you sleep rather peacefully, but beomgyu has no such luck. instead, he's pulled into a dream—one he comes to realize is a memory.

when beomgyu arrives at the coroner’s office, there is a moment, albeit brief, that he sickly hopes that it’s literally anyone else in the world, but when he sees you—body mangled nearly beyond recognition—he realizes that there is no such mercy. apparently, you didn't even die on impact, but by the time somebody reached you, you were already gone. he doesn't want to imagine how you must've felt, being alone in your last moments, but he feels like he should. against the warnings of the coroner and surrounding police officers, he demands for your face to be uncovered. he can surely identify you based on frame and clothing alone, but for reasons he doesn’t dare to dwell on, he feels like he just has to see. he just has to be sure. he just has to know what he did to you.

and he does come to know it. to his eternal regret, he begins to know it at that moment, and consequently, every moment after. as it turns out, they suspect that you were looking at your phone before you swerved off of the road. he doesn’t know how, but he’s instinctively sure that it’s because you were waiting on his call. one resounding thought thrums incessantly in his head: it’s all his fault, all his fault, all his fault.

your face is bloody, barely even showing any of the underlying skin, and marred from shattered glass. he swallows thickly as he reaches out to touch you, running his hands over the gashes on your face as softly as he can as to avoid hurting you, and he can’t help but wonder if it’s at all possible for him to tend to your wounds. he would go over single one, softly patching you up back to normal; but you're already cold to the touch, and though you definitely can’t feel anything, his mind imagines how much it must hurt to have him caress the gaping wounds on your face. he snatches back his hand, as if his touch is poison to you.

“s-sorry, i’m really sorry!” he panickedly exclaims. “i-i won’t—i didn’t mean to hurt you.” he’s unsure if he means that in the current physical or the previous emotional sense, but does that really matter? he already has. besides, you can’t feel anything anymore. all of your muscles are relaxed, leaving you devoid of any expression as your eyes hollowly stare up at the ceiling. for a moment, he wishes the hurt he saw in them a mere hour ago was still there. anything would be better than the current blankness of your features.

the blankness remains, however, even after all of the makeup and superficial repairs done to make you look like you’re only peacefully asleep. to him, you just look dead, no matter how badly he wishes the former were the case. as much as he wants to speak at your funeral, he does not. he doesn't deserve the dignity to speak, much less to properly mourn you. not after what he said to you. not when everything that's happened is all his fault.

the breakup with his girlfriend—or fiancée—is more bothersome than he can handle. in between her pleas and attempts to reason, all he can do is coolly recite the constant refrain: “i’m sorry, i just don’t want to be with you.” she tells him he’s just grieving, that he’ll get over it with time, and she wants to support him while he does it; but he montonously repeats his words as if they're the only ones he knows. in her anger and desperation, she tells him he’s making a mistake, and that he’s just feeling guilty because of your unrequited love, which ultimately proves itself to be the categorically worst thing to say. he finally explodes, telling her that she was the mistake, that he doesn't know what he ever saw in her that even closely compares to you, and he'd take every moment with her back if he could. she's the biggest regret of his life, which previously felt like it had only just begun, but now feels like it stretches far beyond what he can tolerate.

in the days, weeks, months that follow, he struggles to understand how something so unjust could occur. it doesn't make sense. really, it just doesn't make sense. eventually, even his initially patient friends grow weary of his neurotic harping upon how unfair it is, how sudden and wrong it all is. he should be punished. you shouldn’t have had to be the one to suffer, but you were. what kind of justice is that? what kind of universe allows something so cruel to happen right under its nose?

when everyone finally tells him that it’s time to move on and let go, he resorts to speaking to the only person who can’t argue back. you. he visits you every day, bringing you gifts on christmas and your birthday, and even just when he sees something he think you'd like. in a way, they’re almost like sacrifices to you to atone for what he did. his contrition. he spends many of his visits by raving like a man gone mad at a stone slab. he likes to think that you’re agreeing with him, that you see the unfairness for what it is. he’s realized that he loves you, has always loved you, but he was too self-absorbed to notice. as hypocritical as it is, he’s only noticed after you… left, and he’s more disgusted by himself than he ever thought possible. still, he thinks you deserve to know. you deserve for him to be brave and tell the truth, but who cares? what’s the use of only recognizing it after everything he’s done?

he apologizes to you while crying about how much he misses you. he tries to tell you about other things, too. about the things he thinks you would’ve liked to hear. about current events he decides you’d find funny or interesting, about life updates on your friends that you’d want to know, about how a new album has been released by an artist you really liked, and that he can't quite bring himself to listen to it yet. he’ll definitely listen, though, someday. he’ll give you his opinions after describing each track in great detail, once he’s able to bear it, that is. you always look(ed) forward to their releases, so it’s the least he can do to repay his debt to you.

but if you owe someone a debt as deep as their life, how can you repay that debt when they’re no longer here to collect it? if he really thinks about it, there are a lot of things he owes you. he owes you the years you spent caring about him when he couldn’t be bothered to reciprocate a fraction of the same courtesy. he owes you every thoughtful action, every encouraging word you wasted on him. he owes you the time you dedicated to make sure he always felt seen, felt understood, felt loved. yes, he owes you a lot of things—too many to properly account for, actually. and now, he even owes you your life. his debt is so heavy, he crumbles under it every day, squirming pathetically beneath the crushing weight of it all like an insect. the worst part is: he owes you more than you ever asked him for. all you wanted in return was honesty, but it appears that even that was too much to ask from him.

he wishes you were here to punish him, to scorn him for being such a fucking bastard. yell at him, hit him, kill him. anything would be fine—he’d tolerate it all—just as long as you were still here. he’d be perfectly content with your hatred, he’d revel in it, even; but he supposes that he doesn’t even deserve that much. as it is, your silence is the most punishment he can receive, but that doesn't feel like it's even close to enough. he finds himself praying for mercy, for some bizarre, cosmic event to put him out of his misery once and for all. he indulges in the idea that if he plays his cards right, if he begs and pleads enough, he’ll find you again. such a notion is initially enough to placate him, but it is to his horror when he realizes that he’s more afraid of that than anything else. what if he finds you, and you tell him, “i never want to see you again,” just like before? such a terrifying outcome is enough to keep him from snuffing out his own light with his own two hands for good. he’d rather live as if he were dead than hear those words again.

so he does. he lives like that for years, decades, until death mercifully takes him. he lives quietly and utterly alone. no wife, no children, and hardly any friends. if your life was robbed from you by his actions, then it’s only right that he lives as if his own were robbed from him, too. it’s the least he can do to atone for what he’s done. what keeps him up at night, though, is the possibility that it’s just not enough. if you do meet him again, what will you say? will you still tell him that you don't want to see him? that the lifetime he spent regretting everything he's ever done pales in comparison to the price you paid for caring about him? as the darkness overcomes him, however, he realizes that you deigning to say anything at all to him is better than your unbearable silence. his final thought before he's swallowed whole is: please, just let me see you one more time.

beomgyu awakens in a cold sweat, panting heavily as he struggles to understand where he is. is he still alive? that can’t be right—he clearly felt himself slipping away. but what if he can’t die? what if that’s his punishment? the thought alone is enough to elicit a guttural, “no, no, no!” out of him as he realizes that his nightmare is not yet over, and may very well never be. tears pour down his face as he wails like a child.

“beomgyu?” you say as you walk through the doorway, looking somewhat sleepy and disheveled in clothes he subconsciously registers as his own. when he looks at you, he's relieved, but the regret he feels is what overwhelms him.

“oh, god. i'm—it's all my fault.”

“what?” you ask, still a bit disoriented from just waking up, seeing as how it's still the middle of the night.

“it's all my fault. it's all my fucking fault. i did that to you.” suddenly, you realize what he’s saying, and your heart clenches at his words.

“beomgyu, no. i was distracted. i didn’t see—”

��you were distracted because of me. you thought i was calling you, i just know it. you were there because of me. because i’m a fucking coward who couldn't just tell you the truth.” you don’t know what to say. did he really blame himself for everything? even after all of this time? before you can answer, he speaks again.

“i saw—you just looked so small. i've never—i didn't even think anyone could bleed that much. you were so cold, a-and your face was—”

“hey, hey, hey, stop it,” you say firmly, but gently, “you're not—”

“they said you died at the scene, all… all alone. and i know i was the one who did that. if i had just listened to you, if i had just been honest with you, you would've been alright. but i called you crazy. i said you were being stupid. w-why did i say that? what did i do it for?”

“look at me,” you say firmly, which makes his unfocused eyes zero in on you. “listen, listen to me. it's not your fault, okay? i used to feel like it was, but now i understand that you were scared. i know you couldn't control how you felt about her, and you were right about you not owing me your feelings. you could've been honest, but that doesn't mean you killed me.”

“no, i did it. i did it. i did that to you. if i had just—”

“gyu,” you sigh, and his heart can’t help but stutter at the nickname you haven’t called him in months. “i’m telling you it’s not your fault. i used to blame it all on you, and i was wrong for doing that. but you get it now, right? you're supposed to be with her. you love her.”

“no, no, no! i don't. i really don't,” he desperately exclaims, trying to convince you in the only way he knows how.

“maybe not yet,” you concede, “but you will. once you get to know her, you'll want to spend the rest of your life with her. that's how it's supposed to be, just like before.”

“there is no before,” he cuts in pleadingly. “i lived and died alone, just like i deserved. i just—i love you so much, i couldn't stand to let you go.” you frown at his words—they make you actually feel guilty. even so, you guess that it's time to let the purgatory you find yourselves in go. besides, maybe he needs an apology to finally put it all to rest.

“i'm sorry that—” his heart drops to his stomach. please don’t say it. he’s begging you not to say it. not to someone as unworthy and filthy as him.

“don't. please, please, don't apologize to m—”

“—i made you feel that way. even when i hated you, i never wanted you to live like that; but you can't mistake guilt for… something else. maybe this is another chance to get it right. you can be with her guilt-free, and i can live without regrets.”

“no, i-i didn’t break up with her because of guilt! i did it because i realized that if it’s not you, i don’t want it to be anyone else. it can’t be anyone else.”

“you don’t know that,” you sigh. “you think you feel that way, but you’re just sad that things ended how they did.”

“you’re wrong!” he exclaims. “i didn’t realize it—i was too stupid to realize it. and i know it’s disgusting of me, but i only… i only understood it after i lost you. i-i’m sorry i didn’t realize it before, but please don’t tell me how i feel. i spent every day wishing i would just fucking die so i could see you again. i just couldn’t stand living without you. that’s not normal—that’s not how friends feel, no matter how guilty they are. i just wanted to die.” you purse your lips at his words as you feel dread pooling in your stomach. at least when you died, you didn’t suffer for long, but he suffered for the rest of his life. in the same way, you didn’t want him to hurt himself, no matter how angry you were.

beomgyu has begun to hyperventilate, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you—too afraid that you’ll disappear if he does. he’s probably having a panic attack as tears stream down his face, and he ruthlessly tugs at his hair in pure distress. all he can do is repeat that it's all his fault and how sorry he is, and any lingering resentment you may feel dissipates like smoke at his absolutely shattered state. it seems like he really can't live without you, so are you sure you can abandon him like this? you don't think so. although it may not be right, you still think that it's worth a shot. you don't think he has the capacity to hurt you ever again, and you realize that even after everything, you don't think you can love somebody the way that you love him. so, you're willing to let him try again.

“hey, hey. stop it,” you coax, seating yourself on his bed. but he can’t stop it, he physically can’t. he’s whimpering now, like a wild beast with a mortal wound. you don’t hesitate to take him into your arms, holding him tightly as you shush him. “shh, it’s okay, i’m here. don’t cry. i’m here, and i won’t leave again. i promise. just breathe, in… then out. that’s it, just like that. good job.”

eventually, his breath begins to even out, though his body is still racked with shudders. you’re here. you’re okay. you promised that you won’t leave him, and you always keep your word when it comes to him. he finally feels like he can breathe, and even though he’s in so much pain, he still wishes this moment will never end. he wishes he could stay in your arms forever, never letting you leave his side. always staying where he can reach you.

“better?” you ask, pulling away to get a good look at him, but he shakily grips your sleeve in sheer desperation. he just has to be touching you, somehow. he forces himself to nod.

“good,” you say, eyes soft and lips slightly upturned in relief. he almost loses it again at the sight of your smile, no matter how small. he never thought he’d see it directed towards him again in this life or the next. “do you want to start over?”

“s-start over?” he asks. he doesn't dare to let himself hope that you mean what he thinks you mean.

“start over,” you nod. “we can try again, okay?”

“oh, p-please,” he begs. he’s so pathetic. he doesn’t deserve your mercy, but he supposes he’s too selfish to reject it. you look at him for a long, long time with soft eyes. you’re not angry anymore—he’s suffered more than enough, and you finally believe that he loves you just as much as you love him, and maybe even a little more than that.

“you promise you won't hurt me again?”

“i promise. i swear to god—”

without a second thought, you gently cup his face in your hands, which makes his words catch in his throat. his eyes widen as you lean in while pulling him towards you. when your lips meet, he’s electrified to his bones. he melts into the kiss, whimpering slightly at the feeling of your lips against his. when you break apart, you rest his forehead on his own, closing your eyes as he stares at you before he does the same. he clutches the hand you have on his face and grazes his thumb over it as he lets out a contented sigh. nobody has ever made him feel this way before, and if he could go back to the first day he met you, he’d tie you to him immediately.

“thank you, thank you so much,” he whispers. with a smile, you press your lips against his again. he falls into the feeling just as easily as the first time, and you push him down before continuing to go even deeper. before completely giving in.

you spend the night loving and being loved in a way that you never thought you could. you feel cherished to a degree you previously considered impossible. beomgyu reveres you as if you’re his god, and he shows you as much with how loving and gentle he is. when you’re finished, panting heavily against each other, he holds his hand against your cheek as he stares at you in awe.

“i missed you so much. i love you so much. i promise that nobody will ever love you as much as i do. i promise that nobody will ever treat you as well as i will. just don’t leave me, okay?” and when the time comes, even if you do leave first, he’ll be sure to follow you. he won't let you be alone ever again. but he definitely can’t tell you that, or else you’d yell at him for not caring about his life enough.

“okay,” you tell him with a sleepy smile, and he beams before kissing your forehead and letting you drift off. he stares at your peaceful face, resolving to always give you what you want, no matter what it costs him. even if it kills him, he'll gladly do whatever it takes to ensure that you're happier with him than you could ever be with anyone else. he'll prove to you how much he loves you, and he'll pay back the debt he owes you a million times over. you'll see. he’ll marry you, start a new life with you, and chain himself to you forever; which may sound selfish, but he’ll make up for his willfulness by being everything you could ever want and need. and finally, before he joins you to sleep, he thanks the universe for having mercy on him—for letting him see you again.

notes pt. 2: ... so? LMAOOOOO i hope this was worth the wait bc this work was so hard for me to get through it was making me so sad to write it. anyway, love yew. please don't be mean to me tho like if u don't like it just close your eyes n scroll 🙏

permanent taglists: (sfw only) @defnotleee @yaoizee @tubatukimoa ([n]sfw/sfw) @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @midwinterblizzard @sooberryworld @20-cms @hyueika @boba-beom @vicurious28 @blossommi @lickingan0rchid @katsukis1wife @binniebakery @notevenheretbh1 @shymexican @that1sadgrl @archoive @paegesoobin @buttercreamerie @ifwtxt @softesyoongi @serenityism00 @fairfootedflekk @kyanmeai @definitelynotherr @hyunj00 @taehyunluvrs @m00gyu @denleave1088 @hwanghyunjinismybae @bmo-bri @todorokiskitten @choikanghuening @naoristerling

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jackiespurnell · 11 hours ago

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𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙, 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩? (𝙛𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙪 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙧 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

────୨ৎ────────

you weren’t entirely sure how you ended up in jackie taylor’s house, sitting criss crossed on her pink bed sheets, with her hands placed on each of your shoulders, very much about to kiss you. this was not how you thought your friday afternoon was going to go.

it all started approximately 24 hours ago, right after yesterday’s soccer practice. you were getting ready to leave the school premises, excited to get home and lie down on your bed and pretend you actually have a love life that isn’t just fantasizing about your pretty, popular soccer captain.

not like anything would ever happen between you two. but, you know. a girl can dream.

you were just grabbing your water bottle and your bag from the locker room, when you heard a noise. well, not really a noise. more like, noises. more, like screaming.

you didn’t recognize the voices, not at first. it sounds like a guy and girl, which didn’t make much sense, because that definitely wasn’t any of the coaches. you slowly and quietly walk over, hoping not to drag any attention to yourself. you were nosy, of course you wanted to know what exactly was going on. you hide behind a locker, peeking over to see jackie and jeff - her boyfriend - having another yelling match. typical.

jackie and jeff have been dating on and off since freshman year. they had been broken up and back together more times than you could count. you never really understood it, why break up with someone if you know you’re going to end up back together but who were you to judge? i mean, yeah, you’re like, 99% sure that you could treat her much better than that pathetic excuse for a dumb jock with a worse hairline than your balding father but. it’s fine. whatever floats her boat.

you listened in, staying still and quiet. they weren’t really arguing about anything new, or different, just the typical ‘oh, you never listen to me!’ ‘all i do is listen to you!’ ‘you don’t even love me!’ type bullshit. you kind of wish they’d either get their act together or just break up for good. sure, you love good drama, but it’s starting to get boring.

“oh my god, jackie, what did you even expect!? it’s not my fault that after three years you didn’t want to have sex with me! and it’s definitely not my fault that shauna wanted me too!”

oh.

“what?” you whispered to yourself, because holy shit jeff was hooking up with shauna? well, not exactly. he never specified what exactly they were doing. they could’ve been just talking, or kissing, or like, actually hooking up-hooking up. jackie’s boyfriend and jackie’s best friend. jackie’s boyfriend for three years and jackie’s best friend for who knows how long.

and jackie. she didn’t even seem surprised. like she knew. you wonder how she found out. you wonder if she was sad or angry or both. you wonder a lot of things actually, except you don’t have time to wonder because you were too shocked to notice jeff walking over to leave except he saw you so instead of leaving, jeff now is standing in front of you, looking at you like you were casually eavesdropping on their very important, very private conversation and oh, wait, that’s actually what you were doing. shit.

“what’s she doing?” jeff asks jackie and you just awkwardly stand there, and you look at jackie with an apologetic look in your eyes and you knew you’d have a lot of explaining to do.

“um” jackie says. “actually, she’s driving me home. so she was waiting for me”

jeff raises his eyebrows. “jackie, you live like five minutes away? you don’t need a car ride home. what’s going on?” you immediately feel bad, knowing jackie was gonna have to make up some fuck ass lie that probably wouldn’t even make any sense.

“well” jackie says, avoiding eye contact with either of you. “she was actually bringing me back to her place.”

“why the fuck would you be going back to her place?” jeff asked and wow, okay. realistically, you knew it made sense, you and jackie never even hung out outside of practice but way to casually break your already fragile lovergirl heart. even if you knew jackie didn’t like you back, it kind of stung. the way jeff said her, not even paying attention to you, as if you were just some thing, some useless, worthless thing. it made you want to crawl into a hole and die. “i mean are you guys even friends?” he asks, finally looking in your direction.

now there are a million ways you figured this could go.

and this most definitely was not one of them.

because in what is probably your dumbest moment (and you’ve had some pretty dumb moments) you blurt out “actually she’s my girlfriend. and she’s over you. let’s go.”

and with that to take jackie by the arm and pull her away and holy shit you just took jackie by the arm and pulled her away from her actual boyfriend and holy shit you said you guys are dating and holy shit you technically told this girl you barely know anything about that she’s over her boyfriend and holy. fucking. shit.

once you two get out of the locker room and out of the school, you freeze and jackie stares at you expectantly and you try to come up with an explanation that isn’t ‘i was eavesdropping and overheard that your boyfriend was cheating on you with your best friend and i also kind of really like you so i said that and i’m sorry.’

you stare at her awkwardly, trying to come up with some reasonable response. “i, um, well…i, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to eavesdrop but i heard about um…you know, you and jeff and shauna and i, just, you looked uncomfortable and i really shouldn’t have broken up with jeff for you and then said what i said and i’m so sorry.” you expect her to roll her eyes or yell at you or demand you go back inside and tell jeff you lied.

but instead? she starts bursting into laughter.

“oh my god, no! you’re good! no, that was like, the funniest fucking thing i’ve seen in ages. i mean, did you see the look on jeff’s face?” you wanted to say, no, jackie, i didn’t, because i was too busy freaking the fuck out.

“okay but like” jackie says. “maybe this could work.”

“this?” you question and then you realize she means this, as in really, genuinely, faking a relationship with her. “yeah.” jackie nods. “i mean, come on, jeff is probably gonna get with shauna like, for real now. would it be so bad to let them think im getting with you?”

you hesitate. “i don’t know jackie…” “come on! i mean, it’s just pretend, right?” that makes you hesitate even more. fake dating the girl you like was not the smartest move, even you knew that. but still, she’s giving you those puppy dog eyes, and fuck, you love her puppy dog eyes.

fine. you take it back. telling jeff you and jackie were dating when you weren’t wasn’t your dumbest moment.

agreeing with jackie to keep up the act was.

which is how you ended up, 24 hours later, in her house. on her bed. about to kiss.

jackie said you two need to be physical in front of people. she was the people’s princess after all, if she was going to do something, naturally, it had to be big. she needed to have you close to her at all times. an arm around your waist. your head on her shoulder. her lips against yours and of course, practice makes perfect.

so she leans in to kiss you, and you’re about to freeze up, about to say no, about to say this is a bad idea and stupid and they should call it off, but you don’t, you don’t say a thing, and holy shit, she tastes good. and feels good. and just is good. and you as if she could stab you right now and you’d thank her. you then decide that you could die doing this, no, you want to die doing this. it would be painless and you’d be in total bliss. you are in total bliss.

maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t such a bad idea.

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#jackie taylor #yellowjackets #jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor x reader #fake dating au #fanfiction #fanfic #yellowjackets fanfic #ella purnell #no beta we die like jackie #yellowjackets jackie #maria writes ౨ৎ

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weezerlvr228 · 4 months ago

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flippin boobahs!

#weezer #rivers cuomo #brian bell #patrick wilson #scott shriner #OKAH HI CHAT #i’ve been thinking #this tag will be just a rant not really weezer related #yk laufey ?#i was listening to her song ‘letter to my 13 year old self’ and just started overthinking about myself when i was younger #i just think about my younger self and get so sad thinking about her; i wish i could’ve done more for her #i was a huge introvert and talking to anybody made me super super anxious; so much so that my teacher noticed and had me join a ‘social #emotional learning’ group where we spoke about low self esteem and how to raise it and everything like that #i only left it in 8th grade because i didn’t wanna keep missing class for it; but it made me so sad to think i thought so low of myself #i would wear hoodies all the time and jeans because i used to hate my body a lot #which is awful to do in socal heat!#i think it started because in my family i was always stereotyped as the fat one; yk how mexican families are? they called me gordita for #the longest time; which made me incredibly insecure and only in 10th grade did i start showing my arms 😭 IK ITS DUMB BUT ITS SO WEIRD #i still can’t do it entirely; i’ll wear shrugs and things like that because i still am insecure about my arms sometimes but ive been better #i only really had one friend but she had a different lunch; so i was alone for most of the time on the swings by myself or sitting at the #lunch tables alone waiting for lunch to end and this noon duty came to me a lot and would talk to me since she felt bad i was always alone #while everybody else played with each other ; and i don’t know why i just broke down thinking about how lonely i was at the time #i’d go to the school’s friendship room everyday after that because it was just a teacher who let kids come inside her room to play games if #they didn’t wanna be in the heat and soon i became friends w the teacher and she’d play uno with me everyday; mainly because the room was #relatively empty until they got loom bands! and i was an expert on loom bracelets so i would help others make them and that was a confidenc #e boost; i remember being proud of myself for socializing like that LOL #i just get sad thinking about that time; i like to think that if little Lyss saw me; she would be so proud because i have friends;#a boyfriend ; good grades ; and i’m well liked and regarded. i hope she’s proud of my progress socially because it was such a leap #i wish i could go back in time and tell her how much better things get and how she won’t be lonely forever #…and to not online date. definetly don’t do that one.

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crossbackpoke-check · 1 year ago

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V random but I’m in my Brockpetey feels could I listen to your 46 60 playlist!!

of course!! the first playlist i mentioned in the tags is actually not mine—it belongs to ash @notthequiettype and is a soundtrack to their wonderful fic Lake Rules (go read it if you haven’t already!!! highly recommend!!!)

annnd this one is my personal brockpetey vibes playlist

happy listening!!!

#liv in the replies #sadcanucksfan #also!! ash if you want me to unlink/untag please let me know and i will!!!#this one got bumped up because it’s currently relevant (i just posted brockpetey content) the rest of them will be scheduled in the queue 🫡#if i don’t do it now i will lose all links and ability to find things #as for my brockpetey i have zero reasons for any of the songs besides minnesota. it’s all vibes no thoughts.#minnesota to me is the quintessential brock petey song topped only (but really equaled) by charm you (also by samia)#like minnesota i would love to say is a joke but i really heard that song for the first time YEARS ago and went oh my fucking god.#i’m going back to minnesota huh #and then CHARM YOU??? AN ACT OF VIOLENCE AGAINST ME PERSONALLY????#you’re telling me there’s the lyrics ‘kissin you would be like kissin on the USA’ & ‘flying while i’m lying that i hate LA’ & it’s not 406?#(addition that i wasn’t gonna tell you but i have to tell y’all because it’s relevant to Me. samia is so so so so good live.)#(also i haven’t added it to the playlist because it’s sad but kill her freak out has narrative potential as brockpetey. also????#they’re all somehow petey pov to me. sometimes people just get assigned bands in my head for no reason & i think samia is petey’s vibe band.#BESIDES bbno$ which is canon lmao. spiritually petey is a samia song to me i guess idk why either sorry but kill her freak out #is a (seemingly you know how i am) unrequited brock/petey for when brock got his gf. thank u for your time i hate it too just listen to it)#also no statements about my music taste i will cry. if you hate it don’t tell me if you have recs do tell me #although i do have a joke playlist compiled of all the songs brock has been screencapped listening to because. why not. it’s fun and also #has that man ever listened to a single lyric in his life. what the FUCK is up with your chill playlist bud none of those songs are chill.#lovingly. ripping my hair out. the amount of times he listens to fast car like???? girl are you okay.#anyway this is ur reminder i miss stalking people on spotify let me see your music taste cowards.#ALSO #IF I THINK TOO LONG ABOUT PETEY IN MINNESOTA I WILL LOSE MY SHIT SO I AM NOT JUST KNOW THAT I CLICKED THE FIC & SKRTED I CAN’T HAVE EMOTIONS #if i did not have someplace to be at precisely 7:50AM i would be having a full breakdown please believe me.#oh also ALSO bonus points if you figure out what the numbers in the name are :)

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salsflore · 2 years ago

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just got home from school ～ ate a sandwich to cheer myself up, think i’ll play genshin for a bit and nap ... pulling on shenhe’s banner solves everything

#oh wait i'll give you a mark then! but wait no its still wrong nvm #venting a little because i’m just so bummed and silly and i was in such a good mood yesterday so like how did we get here #i failed my math test and that set my mood for the rest of the day which is dumb i know but aghh #the teacher had us add all our grades and then i was like wait theres this one question i think you mightve marked wrongly #and for a sec he was like that was so embarrassing LOL #i got a 26/30 for history — something i didn’t revise for. i got a 20/20 for my eng lit test. plus bc i did so well on my en oral exam-#-(got full marks btw) i’m being nominated to participate in this speaking thing. when my homeroom teacher found out abt this she even said:#“yeah‚ i expected mika to be a good speaker because everytime she speaks to me i...” and it was a really nice thing to hear but even after-#-all that i’m still so sad. i studied for my math exam i really did. so why did i still fail. i didn’t even pass my class this time #i prepared for a week beforehand. looked at past questions and learned things i never thought i would grasp. asked friends for help & i-#-paid attention in class i wrote down notes i did practice questions why was that not enough. looked up proper study methods and tried to-#-balance everything nicely! so why did i still fail‚ right? and i feel so disappointed in myself.#of course i made the mistake of lightheartedly complaining about this to my straight A & A* student‚ beloved by teachers‚ prefect friend #“you’ll do better! it’s not that bad!” i’m so tired. i know i’m an awful friend for being so bitter but i can’t-#-endure myself any longer. and i got home and i ate a sandwich with my sister and mom at the table and-#-my sister made a comment about how ahhh she’s in a bad mood again cuz it’s a monday !! and i hate that i’m so obviously down. i don’t-#-wish to ruin the mood or anything so like #and i have my malay oral exam tomorrow and i wrote my script wrongly apparently so i have to redo that #i’ve given up on memorizing it i just hate going to school now #and then ahhhh another project another presentation i’m so sick of this so sick of myself #i should have put this at the very start but umm! anyways please don’t reply to this or try to reassure me i appreciate it i really do but-#-i just needed a place to be silly and its already kind of embarrassing enough! so just acknowledge this and move on. thanks. love u guys #cw vent #cw negative

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sluttyten · 2 years ago

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#my parents just got home from my grandparents so obviously we’re not driving to visit my brother tonight because it’s almost 10pm and he #lives like 6-8 hours away but I asked if we’re going tomorrow or not at all and her answer was ‘we’re not going’#then she was like ‘are you sad?’ and I’m like no #because I’m not sad I’m annoyed #annoyed that I canceled my plans for this weekend trip that they came up with just a couple days ago just for me to have to cancel my #piercing plan (which they don’t know about to be fair) but also canceled on my best friend because I thought I wouldn’t be here and then I #told her no I wouldn’t come over tonight either bc I thought maybe we might leave early in the morning tomorrow #but we’re not doing that either and I could have gone to target like I wanted to also but I didn’t want to leave and go anywhere bc I didn’t #know how long my parents were going to be or what the general plan was until it was too late and dark for me to want to go anywhere #anyway I’m just annoyed like what was even the fucking point? I hurried home from work threw all my stuff together fully packed and got my #pillow and my blanket my chargers and everything #I even unplugged all the electronics in my room bc I don’t leave stuff plugged in when I know I’m gonna be away for a few days #just for us to not go at all #if either of my parents had packed before today then we would’ve already been on the road by the time my aunt called #would we have just turned around then or what?#also ugh it’s like my parents knew I had plans they wouldn’t approve of bc it was almost right after I made the plans for the piercing with #my friend from work that they threw these plans at me and then once I’d told him I couldn’t do today but maybe next weekend they suddenly #wanted to switch our trip to next weekend but decided to keep it this weekend when I was like uh no #and now that my plans are to go next Friday to get pierced like neither of my parents really shared any plans or even packed anything until #today almost like they just didn’t really plan to go which I know sounds dumb and paranoid to say but we didn’t even have a hotel #reservation like we normally would like these plans just seemed very tentative this weekend and it’s just so annoying to me #I wasted my entire afternoon basically thinking maybe we would get to go and thinking maybe tomorrow and ugh #I’m just in a mood I’m sorry #I need to translate this annoyance into writing chp 10 before I fall asleep #also my best friend is updating me on her house sitting alone and she’s freaking out bc she’s not used to sleeping alone in a house by #herself and the power just went out on her and if my parents would’ve made our lack of plans more clear I could’ve at least been there with #her so she wasn’t so freaked out or at least so we’d be freaked out together #but tbh girl just lock yourself in a bedroom that’s what I always do when I have to sleep in my house alone. and put my car keys right #beside my head so if anything crazy did happen I could at least like set my car alarm off to alert the neighbors

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steviescrystals · 8 days ago

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i think i’m finally starting to realize what it is about so many of my friendships that feels off and it’s not a fun realization :/

#whether they’re conscious of it or not i feel like a lot of my friends don’t quite see me as a real person #and i don’t exactly mean that the way it sounds but that’s the only way i can put it into words #i feel like they view me almost like a pet or an experiment or something like i’m just not on the same level as everyone else #there was just something about the stuff my friends were saying about me the other night #i don’t think they meant to hurt me at all but it wasn’t nice to hear and the fact that they felt so comfortable saying it in front of me #was just so weird and it made me realize this dynamic has been a pattern in a lot of my friendships #and it makes sense unfortunately because i haven’t felt like myself for years now thanks to my mental illness #the very few friends who i think truly see and understand me are ones i’ve had since i was 12-13 #and sure some of that is just bc it’s been a long time but i also can’t help but think they’re able to see me that way because they knew me-#-before i ever really struggled with depression and derealization #like maybe my internal issues are affecting my external self to the point where no one who meets me now can really know me #which is a really sad thought to have because i don’t know how to go about fixing that #anyway idk if any of this even makes sense but i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it so here it is #lj.txt

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cathnospam · 2 months ago

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Bakugo makes you laugh, A LOT and it drives him insane.

“It was not that damn funny.”

You try to conceal the snickers from your mouth, but fail horribly. All he did was mutter something about Mineta being a punk ass and it had you giggly.

At first he used to take offense by it, maybe you were laughing AT him and not what he says, almost like mocking him, that wasn’t until Deku quickly explained in passing that you laugh very easily.

But you don’t laugh this damn much with anybody else but him. At this point he thought you had a similar quirk to Ms. Joke, and he nicknamed you Giggles.

You both were studying in the library like you both usually do during exam week, and Bakugo noticed you haven’t been Miss. Cackle the past few days. Not even a smile actually and you’d think it would have been some relief for him from hearing your laugh obxonious laugh, but he’s actually more annoyed.

He looks up from his book and glances at you across the table, you’re typing away, with a less that neutral look on your face. Lips somehow forming a pout and eyes looking droopy. He scoffs going back to his work, but it was an itch he needed to scratch with you..?

“Who pissed in your breakfast.”

“What?”

“You been looking like a sad lost puppy all week what the hell is your problem.”

The corner of your lips cracked upwards a bit, almost as if you were fighting to smile, but instead you shrug, “‘Nothing you needa worry about. Why.”

It was almost concerning how calm you sounded. Your voice was more tame that you didn’t even sound recognizable which make Bakugo crease his brows, “You suck at lying. Is it, because of that shitty boyfriend you have pissed you off.”

He was referring to Shindo, he wasn’t your boyfriend, but he was a guy you got close with after meeting him a few years ago, but Bakugo was half right he was part of the problem.

You had a small crush on Shindo , but overheard him tell his classmates how he isn’t into you like that mainly because you’re not his type and how much he can’t stand how loud you talk/laugh sometimes.

It hurt hearing it, when he found out you heard he tried apologizing but you didn’t wanna hear it, so since then you’ve turn self conscious about speaking and laughing too loudly for the past week to avoid anymore issues that you have caused with people.

After slowly explaining to the Blonde he rolled his eyes, “You’re ganna let the walking vibrator dictate your life too? So stupid.”

“You hate my laugh too. What does it matter.”

Bakugo stayed silent for a moment while you went back to work. Thinking how could he word what he wants to say without sounding like an idiot, “I never said that, besides you never stopped even when I did tell you your laugh was annoying. If you want to cackle like a hyena who gives a fuck—“

You break into a snicker but end up covering it with your hand. He cracks a proud smirk, he almost forgot what you looked like with a smile, “I don’t wanna be loud. Just can’t help it.”

“We know.”

You giggle at his deadpanned voice, it really wasn’t your fault, you’re just so easy to please and Bakugo knows that, “Giggly ass, and I seen you almost laugh when Denki tripped at the lecture today.”

“Becauuseee he is always so dramatic when he falls.” You whined into a chuckle, sharing a small one with him.

It was a start of many more shared laughs after studying, Katsuki even tried to be just a LITTLE bit more funnier than usual when walking back to the dorms. When you finally cracked a real loud one out he felt himself grinning at you.

“Katsuki Alexander Bakugo are you smiling?”

“Don’t you EVER say my full name like that again got dammit I will blow you the hell UP!”

You almost fall to your knees of how funny his reaction was to you, it felt so good to smile again. You missed it, and so did everybody else the next day apparently.

Mina and some others thought you were depressed, Deku assumed you were sick, Denki outwardly blamed Bakugo which got him smacked, and IIda actually missed your loud noises as well.

Your classmates enjoyed your presence more than you thought they did.

But Bakugo missed it the most.

Your laughs drives him insane, because he loves to hear them.

5K notes · View notes

haetrack · 8 months ago

Text

your fate, my karma

jung jaehyun x fem!reader

wc: 11.7k

synopsis: jaehyun realizes he’s in love with you. it’s fucked, especially because he rejected you once before. he doesn’t want to ruin what he has with you. but he can’t help it, it’s like he was made to see and touch you. he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold in his secret.

warnings: angst, little fluff, friends with benefits, pining, one sided love, confession, argument, smut (MDNI), desperate jaehyun, unprotected sex (pulling out), possessiveness and jealousy, dialogue heavy at some parts

heavily inspired by somethin’ stupid - frank sinatra

part three to the how it all goes series!

you're laid back onto his bed, heavy breaths fanned across your face. on top of you is jaehyun, cheeks dusted with pink as his fingers are still move inside of you. “stop already,” you huff out a laugh, “i might die if you make me cum one more time.”

he chuckles at your words and slowly pulls his fingers out of you, sucking obscenely on them just to annoy you. it works, and you cover your eyes to get the image out of your head. you don’t offer to help him out, and he doesn’t ask for any favors.

he’s not really sure how his friendship with you got to this point. if he could put it simply, you told him that you had feelings for him, asking if he felt the same way. he said that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, that he wasn’t ready to be so vulnerable in front of another person. he still wanted to be friends with you.

he remembers seeing sadness flash through your eyes, but you just smiled at him and accepted the answer that you got. in a way, jaehyun wished he could like you back, he hated the way he hurt you, but he just wasn’t ready. you were wary around him, trying to hide the hurt that he caused you. he couldn’t bear to see it, and hated how much you were hiding from him.

which is how he finds you next to him, curled up in his bed after he’s made you cum. he knows it probably wasn’t the best idea to propose, but he didn’t know how else he could keep you close. when he explains it to himself in his head, it sounds shitty, makes him feel a little fucked up. he tries to justify it, but really, all of this is a temporary fix to keep you close to him.

despite all the grey areas in his friendship with you, he’s certain about one thing: he really does like having you around. he’s chalked it up to his feelings just being from how long he’s known you, but he knows that there’s something else he doesn’t want to admit. because one, it’s fucked. two, he’s rejected you. three, he can’t like you.

he can’t like like you. he doesn’t even want to imagine thinking about the other word, but it plays at the back of his head sometimes. he hears it when you’re both out at a bar together, watching you drunkenly cling to his side. he hears it when you’re at his apartment after work. he hears it when your eyes look up at his when you drop to your knees.

he can hear it even now as you lay next to him, curled up into his side as your breaths even out. it doesn’t feel weird that he can feel your naked body against his, his best friend comfortably laid up next to him. is it so wrong of him to want this? you became more comfortable around him again after he had sex with you. he knows it’s just a temporary solution.

he can feel your breaths across his chest, your face nuzzling closer to him. he could move you away, could create a clearer boundary between the two of you. he feels a little selfish when he lets you stay there, deciding to wrap an arm around your shoulders as he pushes you closer. it’s not fair to either of you, he’s not your boyfriend, he shouldn’t be this close to you.

it’s quiet in his room, save for the sound of cars driving down the road and the occasional huff you let out in your sleep. he isn’t tired at all, too lost in his thoughts as he stares up at the ceiling, the warmth of your body taking up all his thoughts. if he could, he would go back in time and stop you from confessing. he would’ve done it himself in the future, he just needed a little more time.

he can’t blame you though. it’s his fault for rejecting you, it’s his fault for thinking that he could make something happen out of this. there’s a small part of his heart that believes that you could like him again. you wouldn’t come back to him for sex every night, right? but the more realistic part of him knows that it could mean anything.

which is why he can’t stop you coming to him when you’re needy. it’s not even just those times, but he doesn’t think he could ever willingly cut you off. he likes spending time with you, and above everything else, you’re his friend.

he just can’t help but wish it could be a little more than that.

you always ask jaehyun to come over if he has the time.

as you both have grown older, it feels like you both have lost more and more time. when you were both college students, it was easy to skip a few classes and go to parties each night. but now as adults, it’s hard to find time for each other. which is why you ask him to go do mundane tasks with you, like buying groceries or trying on clothes.

today it’s going over to eat with him.

before he rejected you, it felt special to be invited to do these kinds of things with him. out of all the people he could’ve asked, he chose you. it didn’t take long for you to realize that, no, jaehyun asking you to spend time with him meant nothing but him being friendly. it’s weird looking back at how much you wanted jaehyun to like you more than a friend.

as you make your way to his apartment, you realize how much time you spent just wishing for something to happen between you two. you wonder if it was something that was ever supposed to happen between you, or maybe if the timing just wasn’t right. you used to find yourself thinking about the what ifs after he had freshly rejected you. but now, you try to focus on what you have.

he’s just your friend, and you’re close to accepting that it’ll probably never be more than that.

when you make it to his apartment, you don’t see him right away. you call out his name, hearing his voice from his kitchen. when you head over, you’re expecting a nice meal laid out for the two of you to eat. instead, you’re greeted by jaehyun standing by the stove, a stupid smile on his face as he greets you.

“so, you invite me over to come and eat.”

he nods, smile growing wider, “yes.”

“but i’m not seeing any food.”

“that’s because you’re gonna help me.”

you stare at him. he starts moving towards you, one of his arms wrapping around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. he starts dragging you towards where he was standing. you start whining, “you don’t need my help. you’re a whole grown man who can cook whatever he wants.”

he laughs, “but i need you to be my other chef… what are they called?”

you roll your eyes, “a sous chef?”

“exactly,” he points at you, as if you just solidified his argument, “what if i forget something and i need your help?”

you pat his shoulder, “then you call me while i sit over on the couch.”

he’s about to give up, but he swears there’s a certain look in your eyes that ask him to keep going. that’s how it always feels with you, a certain push-and-pull that you both can’t let go of. your fingers twitch against his shoulder, almost giving you away. he moves to hold your hand, “how about you at least watch me on the side. i just wanna talk to you.”

you almost want to point out his pouty tone, want to laugh at how there’s a frown on his face. but you can’t. he looks a little too sincere, and you don’t want to think too hard about the feelings he doesn’t have for you. you sigh, eventually giving into his words. it’s always like this, jaehyun acting like he can’t go on without you. that’s what got you here in the first place.

he smiles when you approach him, so close that his arm is touching yours. it doesn’t matter how long or how many times he’s had sex with you, to have you close to him like this makes his heart soar.

it’s like this for the whole time you both cook. your hands lightly grazing his, the sweet smile you show him when he does good, the laugh you let out when he messes up. you take over some parts for him without him asking you to. he can’t help let his mind wander, thinking this is how it would be all the time if you two were dating.

he wouldn’t have to beg you to do something with him, you would do it on your own accord. he wouldn’t have to hold back how much he wants to kiss you, he could press as many kisses on your cheeks or lips. he could stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you as you forcibly kick him off of cooking duty.

instead, he’s standing in front of the food he’s making, probably overcooking it as you point and laugh at him. you even take out your phone to take a picture of him, laughing as you fiddle with your phone. he swats at you, grumbling, “if you posted that on instagram, i am definitely blocking you.”

“you know me so well. i tagged you and everything.”

he chooses not to respond, taking out plates from his cabinet for the both of you. he can see you standing next to him, waiting to plate your food. he quickly decides to plate it for you, trying to hide his pink cheeks as he pushes the plate towards you. when he’s plating his own, you speak up, “wow, what a gentleman!” he can hear the teasing tone you use, “you’re really setting the bar for all men, aren’t you, jaehyun?”

he decides to tease you back, “just trying to show you how much nicer i am than you are. you should post this on instagram, too.”

“nope, letting all my followers know how mean and horrible of a cook you are. i’m ruining your chances of getting with someone.”

he shakes his head in amusement, moving to one of the seats on his small dining table. you follow, sitting right across from him. he messes with his phone a bit before you can hear that it’s connected to his speakers. an unfamiliar tune starts playing as you watch jaehyun’s head bob along to the song.

this is how it always is, eating together, listening to his annoyingly good music taste, and enjoying each other’s presence. the food he cooked is surprisingly good, but you try to denounce it because you did help him along the way. it’s quiet between the two of you, nothing really too important to talk about.

jaehyun notices your fingers tapping along the table to the beat of the song. he smiles, “do you like it? the song?”

you pretend to think about it, “hm... well, it’s good.”

“you’re not gonna secretly shazam it under the table like last time?”

“that was literally a one time thing,” you huff, “i’ll just go and find someone with the exact same music taste as you.”

he smiles to himself, “you know there’s no one else like me.”

you think about his words for a bit. he probably didn’t mean for them to have a double meaning, but you can’t help but find one. you wonder if you’ll ever be able to find someone who could’ve made you as happy as jaehyun does. you wonder if you do ever find someone, if you’d be able to forget jaehyun.

you feel like you’ve become so intertwined in his life that everything might lead back to him.

you eventually nod along to his words, “yeah, there’s no one else like you.”

“you’re kinda an ass for not picking her up yourself.”

jaehyun huffs at johnny’s words. it’s not that he didn’t want to, but you had assured him that you would make it on time. when he brought up your safety, you said that it was taken care of already. jaehyun couldn’t help but wonder who or what could possibly be more safe than him, but he didn’t want to argue.

but now that you’re a little late, he can’t stop himself from worrying. johnny makes it worse, tearing into him, teasing him with every word. jaehyun hasn’t told him about his surfacing feelings for you, but johnny is notoriously nosy, probably knowing the exact day jaehyun thought that he started liking you.

johnny takes one more jab at him, “she would’ve liked you more if you’d been the one who brought her.”

jaehyun’s shoulder bumps into johnny’s, “she already does like me a lot, so there’s no need for all of that.”

johnny shrugs, letting out an if you say so as he sips on his drink. as much as jaehyun wants to deny it, he really wishes he could’ve at least given you a ride. he would’ve immediately ditched johnny if you asked, would’ve been right outside your doorstep as soon as you said you were ready. he wants to tell himself that that’s just what friends do, but there’s something he doesn’t want to admit.

his hands move to pull out his phone, scrolling through your messages from the past hours. he knows he’s made a mistake as soon as he feels johnny’s eyes looking at his screen from over his shoulder. jaehyun makes a jokingly shocked face at johnny to try to distract him, but johnny’s face mirrors his own.

johnny’s about to say something with a teasing smile on his face and jaehyun’s ready to stop him. instead, a ding comes from his phone, calling their attention. it’s a text from you, letting jaehyun know that you’re outside. he sends a text to you, his eyes moving to the entrance as he waits for you to walk in.

and there you are.

your eyes scan the room, looking for both him and johnny. jaehyun can feel his cheeks heat up at the sight of you, your face illuminated by the warm lights of the bar. he thinks you look pretty all the time, but now that he’s seeing you like this, he wants to keep it in his memory forever.

you quickly spot them, your face brightening up with a smile as you make your way towards them. you greet the two of them, johnny easily bringing you into a hug. when you turn to jaehyun, you expect the same, but his eyes stay on you for a moment too long. he notices your teasing smile, quickly clearing his throat before wrapping his arms around you.

johnny starts, “always so fashionably late.”

you laugh, “if i don’t come, who else is gonna be the funniest and sexiest person in our friend group?”

johnny moves to tuck an invisible strand of hair behind his ear, “i was holding that position just fine before you came.”

you slap his shoulder, a fit of laughter taking over you. jaehyun watches the two of you, quietly laughing at the side. he likes the dynamic the three of you have, always mentally thanking johnny for introducing you to him. he’d endure all of johnny’s teasing for years if it meant to have you laughing at his side.

it stays like this for a while. the three of you drinking together, laughing when johnny tries dragging you closer to the middle of the room to dance. jaehyun can feel his cheeks get hotter, pink from the alcohol and the not-so-visible adoration he holds for you. he tries to quiet his feelings, but when you lean into his side, your warm body pressing against his, he figures he can give up the act a little.

it’s at times like these where jaehyun realizes that he can see the you from before the rejection. it’s a bit selfish for him crave this side of you, the one where you don’t care how much you touch him or how you continue talking into his ear all night. he thinks that if you were both dating, he could lean over and press a kiss to your cheek, watching as you nuzzle into his side.

for now, all he can do is wrap his arm around yours as you both sway side to side. johnny went off to get another drink, promising to be back quickly. jaehyun has this little time to have you all to himself, listening to the loud chattering around him and the bass of the music loud in his ears. your eyes are closed, humming along to the song.

jaehyun could easily whisper into your ear about his feelings. you probably wouldn’t remember either way, but he knows it’s not right. it’s not like he’d want to do it this way, wanting to tell you honestly. but there’s a growing part inside his brain that’s begging him to do something about it. he has you so close now, so why can’t just say that he likes you?

the thoughts dissipate when johnny comes back, smile on his face with three more drinks in hand. johnny quickly notices how your arm is intertwined with jaehyun’s, and jaehyun can physically see the moment johnny comes up with a plan. jaehyun doesn’t bother moving from his spot, though, willing to sacrifice his humility just to have you by his side.

as if jaehyun wasn’t having thoughts of kissing or dating you, the conversation turns back to normal. the three of you chatting, exchanging work gossip and taking drinks from your cups. it’s like every night this happens, it’s a regular routine of talking and him having to fight back his more than friendly thoughts of his friend.

except this time, while johnny’s explaining how he thinks his boss might be having an affair, you cut him off. johnny jokingly scoffs, turning to where you’re looking at. you both squeal, johnny’s hands finding your shoulders, shaking them back and forth. you gasp, “that’s him, right?”

johnny matches your tone, “totally him! i could recognize him from anywhere!”

raising an eyebrow in your direction, jaehyun asks, “and who exactly are we talking about?”

you turn back at him, “that’s jungwoo, someone we knew from college!”

the name sounds familiar to jaehyun. there’s probably been a few times you talked about him during one semester. he’s not sure which one it could be, but there’s a memory of a faint smile on your face while talking about him. it sets a weird feeling in jaehyun’s stomach, and he realizes you look a little too excited at the sight of jungwoo.

jaehyun’s arm is still looped around yours, a small frown on his face, “does everyone and their moms know jungwoo now?”

“he was funny in class and he bought me coffee once,” johnny hums.

you join in, “he is definitely funny and he did good when we worked on a project together.”

jaehyun pointedly glares at johnny when he speaks, but when you speak, he just holds you closer to him. he can see how johnny watches him, being reminded of how he looked like he was planning something earlier. jaehyun sees it now, johnny’s face darkening before he speaks, turning to speak to you, “i think you should go talk to him.”

jaehyun sends a pointed glare at him before looking at you, his eyes widening when he sees the shy smile on your face. you ask, “what if he doesn’t even recognize me?”

“why wouldn’t he? he always looked at you a certain way when you guys talked, he definitely remembers you.”

jaehyun wonders why no one told him more about this “jungwoo” and his apparent more-than-friendly feelings for you? if johnny knows, then does that mean the three of you hung out before without him? how much has jaehyun missed between you and jungwoo? jaehyun silently takes another sip of his drink, his eyes peering over his cup as he watches you get lost in your thoughts.

he thinks you might drop the conversation, but you breath out, “i’ll do it. i’ll go talk to him.”

jaehyun tries his best not to acknowledge the growing jealousy he can feel bubbling up in his throat. he has to bite back a remark that would probably make things worse for himself. he decides to let go of your arm, watching as you easily separate from him. johnny starts hyping you up, giving you encouraging words as jaehyun massages your shoulders.

although jaehyun wishes he could say don’t go over there or i’ll die, he decides to send you a thumbs up before you walk away. his throat burns, and as much as he wants to think it’s from the alcohol, it’s from seeing you walk away from him. you’re walking to someone that isn’t him, sharing your warmth that’s supposed to be jaehyun’s.

he realizes then and there that he shouldn’t be thinking that.

you’re pressed against jaehyun’s bed, his face burying into your neck as he leaves kisses across your skin. you had to tell him to not leave any marks when you feel his teeth nip at your skin, and you could’ve sworn you heard a huff come out of him when you did. he’s practically pinning you down, body barely hovering over yours.

there are days where he gets like this, too desperate to where he doesn’t realize he grips you a little tighter, his voice growing deeper, relieving all of his stress by making you both feel good. you can tell when he gets like this, a quick text of an you up? letting you know what he wants. you’ve grown to learn all his habits.

it does feel a little different today, though. he was quick to greet you, quick to bring you to bed to kiss you. there were no words of how work was hard for him or if he was stressed about something that happened. not that there’s anything wrong with him not saying, but there’s a certain desperation in his movements as his lips trail down your body.

you decide not to ask about it, not wanting to pressure him into talking about something he doesn’t want to talk about. you’re quick to forget about it when he presses a kiss onto your clothed clit. he calls your name, bringing your attention to the heavy gaze he gives you. he murmurs out, “gonna let me see this pretty pussy?”

you nod quickly, lifting your hips up so he can take off your panties. he moves to lay between your thighs, humming when he sees how you’re dripping for him. it’s embarrassing, trying to close your legs. you’re met with his hands keeping them apart, chuckling at the whine you let out.

“didn’t know you could be this wet for me. if i didn’t know any better, i’d think that you need me.”

you let out a small whimper when he traces a finger down your slit, “jaehyun, please, need you to- need you to do something!”

“tell me what you need, pretty. if you don’t tell me, how am i supposed to help?”

“need you, jaehyun! want your fingers, want you to touch me!”

“of course, that’s all i needed to hear.”

you can feel one of his fingers slide into you, your head falling back onto his pillow at the feeling. you clench around his digit, already begging for more, needing him to fill you up. he doesn’t tease you for being so desperate, quickly giving into your pleas as another finger slips inside you. you let out a cry when you feel his thumb circle around your clit.

“such a messy baby, dripping all over my fingers. needed me so bad, right?”

moans of his name tumble out of your lips when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that spot that sends shocks down your spine. your hands are gripping onto the sheets, realizing just how fast you're about to cum. you’re sure he can feel you clench around his digits, especially when you manage to open your eyes and see him looking straight at you.

“gonna cum all over my fingers?”

“fuck, yes! please, wanna cum, need you to let me cum!”

his movements speed up at your words, “go ahead and show me how much you need it.”

you’re quick to fall apart, your orgasm crashing into you. your thighs shut around his hand that’s helping you ride out your orgasm. all you can hear are the sounds you make and the encouragement that jaehyun mumbles out to you. you’re too fucked out to realize that his clean hand intertwines with yours, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

before you can comment on it, he’s quick to pull away from you, hands moving to undo his pants. you move to try to do it for him, but he swats your hands away with a laugh. after letting you gawk at him for a bit, he takes his boxers off, a whine leaving you at the sight of his leaking cock. he tilts his head at you, “are you gonna let me fill your pretty pussy up?”

“please,” you moan. your legs move to wrap around his waist, bringing his hips flush to yours. his cock ruts against your cunt, still sensitive from your last orgasm. he shushes you when you let out a small gasp, one of his hands soothing the skin of your thigh. you let out a small cry when his tips rubs against your clit, the last of your patience running out.

you can tell it’s getting to him, too. his cheeks and ears are flushed, his eyebrows furrowed as he switches between watching your face and where he’s pressed against you. he bites back a groan when his tip catches at your entrance, trying hard not to push into you right then and there. he puts all his focus on you, “tell me that you want me to fill you up. tell me that you need me to fuck you.”

you whine, your head digging into the pillow. despite his flushed face, there’s a cocky look on his face as he stares down at you. you’re too desperate to try to fight back, losing the battle as you let out a whimper of his name. there’s almost a surprised look in his eyes as he sees you give up this easily, leaning down to give you a quick kiss to your collarbone.

“i know, baby, need you just as bad. gonna fuck you like you need it, okay?”

you whisper out a thank you as he moves to line himself up at your entrance. he slowly slides in, letting out a deep groan as he watches himself sink into you. he fights off his eyes from closing at the feeling of your tight cunt clenching around his length. you’re no better, writhing around in the sheets, whimpers of his name escaping you.

once he bottoms out, he lets out a grunt, “missed this pussy so much. so fucking warm, so tight, all for me.” you’re quick to agree, hands trying to reach at his shoulders to bring him closer to you. he gives in easily, huffing at how he can feel himself deeper inside you at the new position. he kisses the valley of your breasts, sucking lightly.

he starts off slow, teasing you as he thrusts into you, slow and deep. if you can listen past your own moans and whimpers, you can hear the quiet curses and sounds he lets out, trying to hide how much you’re affecting him. when your nails claw at his back, he breaks, “didn’t even mean to call you this late, i just needed you so bad.”

his words get to you, the fact that he wanted to call you because he was needy makes you clench around him. he can’t help but pick up the pace of his thrusts at the feeling, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. you don’t know what has him so worked up, but if he’s going to make you feel this good, you might have to figure it out.

you need just a little more, your hand trailing down your body to get to your clit. you moan in relief when your fingers circle your clit, clenching tightly around jaehyun’s length. it has his hips stuttering slightly, eyes making their way to your hand. he’s quick to push your hand away to replace it with his own, thumb making tight circles around the nub.

he move up to whisper into your ear, “only i can make you feel this good, right? i know you better than anyone else, even yourself.”

you shake your head at his words, but your hips roll up into his, trying to fit more of him inside you. he chuckles lowly at the sight, a small smile on his face as he watches you. he’s slamming into you now, any patience he had now gone as he nears the edge. he starts, “no? trust me, pretty. i know just how you like to be touched, how you liked to be fucked. i know you so well that i just know that you’re close to cumming.”

tears prick your eyes, because yes, you are close to cumming. you can’t help it, not when he’s fucking you like this. he’s not usually this talkative, choosing rather to focus on getting away from any stresses. but now, he’s letting you in on his thoughts, letting you know what could possibly be nagging at him. you’ll save it for another time.

you’re surrounded by all of him, chest touching his as his warm breath hits your neck. you used to wish for him to kiss you during moments like these, moments where you’re both so close, adrenaline too high. now, all you can do is whine out his name, begging for him to let you cum.

it’s easy for you to let go of any past emotions you had for him, but for jaehyun, he wishes he could kiss you. he wishes that you could want him again, wishes that he didn’t have to fuck you like this. this is what he wanted, though. he just didn’t think it would be this hard. he tries to ignore it by groaning into your ear, “gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over my cock?”

“y-yes, please! you make me feel so good!”

“yeah? show me then, pretty girl. show me how i’m the only one who can make you feel this good.”

at the sound of his voice, you cum. your chest arches up into his, nails digging into his back as you let go. he’s moaning at the feeling, his hips stuttering as he tries to fuck into your tight pussy. he has to bite down onto your shoulder at the feeling, holding back just how bad he wants to cum inside you.

when you start whining, he’s quick to pull out of your heat, quickly jerking himself off to the sight of how fucked out you look. with a moan of your name, his cum shoots out over your stomach, his cheeks a pretty pink as he does.

it’s quiet in his room, save for the deep breaths you both let out. he’s just staring down at you, saving the image of you covered in his cum in his mind. you don’t mind, too tired to notice the slight adoration in his eyes as he stares. it is embarrassing though, covering your face with your arm as you tell him to move.

he blinks away his thoughts, chuckling at your embarrassment. he pats your thigh, moving away as he goes to get a towel to clean you up. he’s being careful with you, his movements slow as the towel moves around your body. there’s a soft look in his eyes, a lazy smile on his face as he indirectly touches you. he’s quick to throw the towel into his laundry basket, even quicker to join you in bed.

in a motion that almost seems too soft for the fact that he just fucked you into his sheets, he pulls your back into his chest. one of his hands makes it to your side, letting it sit there. his breaths are evening out, fanning across your shoulder that he nuzzles into. his touches are hesitant against your skin, almost as if he was debating on whether or not he could touch you like this.

you almost want to push his hand away or try to make some space between the two of you. friends should not be holding each other like this, friends should not be letting each other bask in the warmth of their bodies. friends shouldn’t even be having sex, not like this.

but you figure just this once, you’ll let yourself have this moment. it’s a bit selfish, getting to have jaehyun like this. you wished he’d hold you like this every single time. you think if he did, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from falling back in love with him. there’s no way for you to win when it comes to jaehyun.

as he presses a kiss and murmurs a goodnight into your shoulder, you make a promise to yourself: you won’t ever lose yourself over jaehyun again.

jaehyun realizes how little time he’s been spending with you recently.

he’s been hearing more about this jungwoo guy. you’ve told him can’t hang out, i’m with jungwoo right now or i’ll be hanging out with jungwoo later. you’ve been so busy catching up with jungwoo that jaehyun hasn’t had the time to talk to you. no more eating or shopping together, not when jungwoo’s around.

jaehyun doesn’t want to say he’s necessarily jealous of the relationship you two share, but can’t say it doesn’t sit right with him. jaehyun is still your friend after all, and he doesn’t like hearing you talk so much about him. during the small chances jaehyun gets to talk to you, you always slip in one mention about jungwoo.

what about jaehyun? what does jungwoo have that he doesn’t? he could totally treat and touch you better than jungwoo ever could. he practically does already. he can’t help but let these little thoughts enter his mind. if jungwoo’s in the way, how is jaehyun supposed to show you how much he likes you?

it’s one day that you’re both splayed across his couch, your legs resting over his as his thumb smoothes across the skin of your thigh when jungwoo is brought up again. out of the corner of his eye, he can see you smile and lightly laugh at your phone. jaehyun, being the nosy person that he is, can’t help but try to reach over to see what you’re laughing at.

you’re quick to push him away, chuckling at the sight of the small pout on his face. he tries again, and you decide it’s probably better just to sit beside him instead. you begrudgingly show him your phone, and he squints his eyes so he can read your screen better.

it’s quiet for a few moments before he hums at the texts between you and jungwoo. it’s a conversation funny enough to make you laugh. he tries not to roll his eyes at the cutesy way jungwoo texts, him being clearly interested in you. he doesn’t want to say anything about it though, doesn’t want you to know that jungwoo bothers him for reasons that he shouldn’t be thinking.

“he’s funny,” jaehyun muses, trying to stop the snarky remark he wants to say.

“way funnier than you,” you tease, watching him deflate back to his side of the couch.

“there’s been times where you’ve laughed at my jokes though, like laughed laughed.”

“i was either super drunk or bored out of my mind, so those don’t count.”

jaehyun rolls his eyes at you, deciding to ignore your words, choosing to believe that you think he’s the funniest man ever. he’s been finding himself having little competitions with jungwoo that only he’s a part of. jungwoo is funny? jaehyun is funnier. jungwoo is cute? jaehyun is cute, too, just give him a minute.

jaehyun tries to boil it down to the fact he’s always been competitive, but he knows it’s more than that. in his head, it doesn’t matter what jungwoo does better than jaehyun because right now, you're in his apartment, on his couch, deciding to spend meaningless time with him.

“what have you both been doing? i haven’t seen you at all this week.” he hates how his voice sounds, a little too clingy for his liking, but he hopes you don’t hear it.

“nothing, really. we’ve just been going out to eat or hanging out when we have the time.”

jaehyun figures you both somehow have all the time in the world in order to be hanging out this much. he makes his voice whiny before speaking, “i miss you, please don’t leave me forever.”

you laugh at the sound of his voice, pulling your legs away from him. “you’re acting like me spending time with jungwoo is gonna kill you.”

“what’s killing me is the fact i don’t get to see you that much anymore,” he grumbles.

he notices that you don’t respond right away, and when he goes to look at you, your eyebrows are furrowed and there’s a certain look in your eyes. did he say too much? before he can start panicking, you turn towards him, “don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“pretend like you miss me when we already spend a lot of time together. you literally called me up the other night.”

jaehyun lets out a breath, “sorry, but you’re still my friend. i do miss you, i’m jealous that jungwoo gets to see you that much.” although he says it jokingly, there’s definitely truth behind his words. it might not mean much to you, but the fact that jungwoo gets to see you in a way that only jaehyun feels like he deserves, it hurts him.

“i’m gonna tell jungwoo you’re being mean to him,” you huff.

“tell him then,” jaehyun slings an arm around your waist, “let him know that he needs to learn how to share.”

“first of all,” you slide his arm off of you, “don’t say it like that because you make it sound like i’m an object. two, i think you might need to learn how to share.”

he hums, “you were mine first.”

“i was never yours,” you grouch, “you made that clear when you rejected me.”

he can tell you’re joking, but he can feel his blood run cold at your words. it’s a reminder to him that the rejection is still clear in your mind, reminding him just how much he hurt you. it will always be a reminder of how he messed up what could've been a good relationship with you if he just had more time.

he can’t blame you for his own mistake. he can’t.

in the best way he can, he puts his hands together and grovels, “please, can you find it in your kind soul to forgive me?”

you scoff, rightfully so, before grabbing your phone to take a picture of him. you’re quiet for a few moments more, jaehyun knowing that you’re about to post the picture on your instagram story for everyone to see, including jungwoo. he doesn’t want to stop you, equal parts of wanting to show off how you’re hanging out with him and a little bit of embarrassment.

you set your phone down, placing your hands on top of his, “you can stop. now i kinda just feel bad for you. you do deserve it, though.”

jaehyun doesn’t move, staring at you with a certain look in his eyes. he can tell you right here, he thinks. he’s thought about what he’d say if he were to confess to you almost too much. he’s practiced his lines before, thinking up the perfect way he’d confess. it almost feels right to do it now, clearing his throat and-

your phone buzzes, pulling your attention away from him. he grimaces when you show him the notification. what seems to be jungwoo’s account liking your story, the story that has jaehyun begging for your apology posted on it. you sigh dreamily, “told you he’s funny.”

“not funny when it’s jungwoo.”

“jaehyun!”

you find yourself drinking at jaehyun’s place again.

it’s a slow night, both of you had stressful days. you choose to stay in jaehyun’s kitchen, laughing at unfunny words and pouring more wine for each other as the night rolls on. you didn’t mean to stay over so late, but jaehyun practically begged you to spend some time with him. you were quick to say yes under the guise that all he wanted to do was be with his friend.

before the night went too deep, you texted jungwoo saying that you probably won’t be able to call him tonight. he responds quick, a have fun! and i hope you sleep well :) flashing on your screen. you smile warmly at the messages, but quickly notice jaehyun also staring at them. you push at his shoulders, whining over how he’s invading your privacy.

his cheeks are rosy from the wine, a sly smile on his face as he asks, “how am i not supposed to look when i see you smiling like that.”

“you’re supposed to be a good friend and support me in my times of need!”

he puts his hands up in defense, that annoying smile still looking back at you, “thank you for being so vulnerable around me. and who’s to say i don’t support you in your times of need?”

you hear the double meaning in his words, swatting him away, “hey! you’re actually so gross.”

he just chuckles at your words, enjoying how easily you get embarrassed at his teasing. it’s been happening more often, and jaehyun can’t help but piece together that it might be because of jungwoo. jaehyun feels that you might be slipping away right in front of him, and he can’t really do anything to stop it.

you aren’t completely unaware of jaehyun trying to get you to hang out with him. he’s been sending more texts recently, nothing really important being said. you’re not sure how obvious you’re being with jungwoo, but you’re sure that jaehyun has at least an inkling on how you feel about him. which leads you to believe that jaehyun might be a little jealous.

it was never your intention to make him jealous. that night when you first saw jungwoo again was all unplanned. you never thought you would end up talking to him, never thought you’d like the way he treated you. he was so sweet to you, always trying to take care of your every need when prompted.

it’s bad to compare, but you realize that jaehyun’s only being so nice to you now is because jungwoo’s being nice to you.

that’s not to say that jaehyun was never not nice to you, but you could tell that it’s a different kind of nice when it comes to him. the relationship you have with jaehyun now feels more like a bandaid to cover all of the bad things that have happened, no one bothering to address it. you don’t want to either way, no use in bringing up what shouldn’t be talked about.

even now, as you’re here with him in his kitchen, feeling the cold air from the open window drift in, there’s unspoken words between the two of you. you can hear the music playing from his speakers in the other room, the melody sticking in your head. it’s weird to think that you would’ve never gotten to see jaehyun like this if you didn’t stay with him.

it’s quiet for a few moments, apart from jaehyun humming along to the song that’s playing. it’s dark, his warm lights low as they cover the both of you. it’s nice like this, a little drunk and a little quiet; you don’t have to think about anything you don’t want to. you don’t think before you speak, “i do miss you, too, you know.”

“yeah?”

“you’re still someone i appreciate, even after everything.”

he doesn’t respond, and you think he’s taking in your words. you’re not sure why you didn’t specify ‘friend’ but you know he knows better than to have his hopes up anymore. you see that the tips of his ears are pink, the lazy smile on his face showing that he’s a bit tipsy too. he’s not looking at you, you’re not really sure what he’s thinking-

“i think… i think i love you.”

“what?”

his eyes immediately snap to yours, widening as he realizes what slipped out of his mouth. slightly panicking, he stands up, trying to backtrack, “no, i- look-”

“what did you say?”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it-”

“what does that even mean? you can’t just randomly say you love me and then take it back?”

he chooses not to answer right away, eyes darting all around as he tries to come up with an answer. he can fix this, he can help himself, it’s just… he doesn’t really want to. it’s almost selfish with how he feels a little relief with his confession. “since you’re asking,” he starts, “i… i like you. i’ve liked you for a while now.”

when he looks at you, the anger from before is still there. you’re biting down on your lip, hands balled at your sides as his words hit you. “jaehyun… do you know how wrong that is? since when? after you rejected me?”

“no, i- fine. yes, after i rejected you. i know it’s wrong and i know i shouldn’t but it clicked for me, even if it was a little late.”

“a little late? jaehyun, you’re telling me this after you know i’m talking to someone. you knew that there’d be a high chance that i wouldn’t feel the same. i know you’re not that dumb.”

“but that’s how you felt when you asked me out? even if there was a chance that i would say no to you, you still did it, right? that’s exactly how i feel, how bad would it be if i tried?”

a shocked laugh leaves you, “that isn’t fair! you’re not being fair! you’re not thinking about how i would feel knowing this!”

you think he knows that it’s not the same between you and him. you confessed because you genuinely thought you had a chance with him. jaehyun’s only confessing because you’re talking to jungwoo.

“i should’ve never let this happen! fuck, i knew if i kept talking to you, something bad would happen.”

he scoffs, wanting to call out your bluff. “i never forced you to come over and talk. you weren’t forced to come over and have sex with me. you could’ve stopped this at any time, but you kept coming back to me.”

you let out an exasperated sound, “we were friends, jaehyun. friends hang out and talk, that’s literally all we were doing.”

he snaps, “friends don’t fuck. friends don’t hold each other after sex. you can’t say that you didn’t feel anything between us. that’s the whole reason i called you for sex the other day, i needed you."

you can hear how loud your heart is pounding in your chest. your head hurts already, the faint song playing in the other room only adding to the pain. there’s nothing more that you want to do than just go home. you wish you could’ve been more clear, you wished you would’ve drawn a clearer line between the two of you. now you’re stuck like this.

you sigh out, mumbling into the quiet air, “if i had known that you were gonna be like this, i would’ve made sure to end whatever we had as soon as possible.”

“if you never met jungwoo, then this probably never would’ve happened. i could’ve asked you out the normal way, but you kind of forced me into drunkenly confessing to you.”

you send a glare straight at him, “do not assume how i would feel in any situation. the fact that you didn’t even want to tell me that you liked me says everything i need to know.”

“how was i supposed to tell the girl i rejected that i like her now?”

“exactly! don’t you see how fucked up that is?”

he shrugs, closing himself off before you can start up again. you know how he gets, pretending that none of this really matters to him. it’s childish, and you know he knows it. you don’t know what else to do. if he can’t sort himself out, there’s no reason for you to be here anymore.

you’re quick to get up and out of the kitchen. he doesn’t look at you at first, but as soon as he hears you pack your stuff into your bag and your car keys in hands, he follows right after you. there’s a startled look on his face, you can tell that he didn’t think you would leave him. you watch as he raises a hand to stop you, but quickly puts it down after some thought.

you let out a breath, “i’m leaving. you can decide if you want to pull yourself together and grow up if you wanna talk. if not, don’t even bother texting me.”

he doesn’t try to argue, watching as you walk out his door. he can’t feel anything, doesn’t really want to do anything other than lay in bed. he walks over to his bedroom, the sound of a familiar slow song getting louder as he walks closer. he makes it inside, pausing the song before laying down onto his back. it’s quiet again.

he just ruined everything.

for the first time in a while, your life feels kinda normal.

there’s not a lot for you to worry about if you ignore a few things. work is fine, your friends are celebrating your freedom, and jungwoo comforts you in every way possible. you realize that jungwoo might’ve been everything you’ve been looking for in a person. he stays close when you need him and gives you space when you ask.

you tell jungwoo that you’re happy to have him right now. you tell him that you’re sorry for acting a little weird recently (he quickly denies your claim). you don’t tell him exactly what happened with jaehyun, but you can assume he at least knows a little. he doesn’t try to pry it out of you, choosing not to remind you of something you don’t want to think of.

and you’re not thinking about it. you haven’t gotten any texts from jaehyun, so why should you care?

as much as you don’t want to admit it, it does feel weird not having jaehyun in your life. you didn’t realize how much you thought about him or how much time was dedicated to being with him. it didn’t seem to matter at first because you thought it was because you both were friends, but you realize he was kind of stringing you along.

there’s a lot of time you have to yourself now. you don’t have to worry about jaehyun calling you randomly throughout the day or one of his spontaneous meetups. you don’t have to think about his you up? texts during the late hours of the night. you don’t have to think about any hurt he’s caused you in the past. none of it will mean anything anymore.

until you get a call from johnny.

“hey, johnny. what’s up?”

he skips right past your greeting, “why doesn’t jaehyun want to hang out with you?”

you’re shocked for multiple reasons. one, of course, johnny already knows your business. two, how dare jaehyun say he doesn’t want to hang out with you. you scoff, “what exactly did he say?”

“he said he was busy, but, like i know he’s not gonna be busy. and that obviously means that something is going on between you two.”

you want to scream into your phone’s microphone. jaehyun doesn’t deserve to set the boundary between you two. he was the one who messed it up in the first place, so why is he the one trying to put distance between you two? “johnny,” you start, “do you promise not to tell anyone about what i’m about to tell you? you can’t even tell jaehyun.”

he lets out a little shocked sound and you can imagine him sitting up straight. he whispers into the call, “what is it?”

“the other night, jaehyun told me he likes me. actually, in his own words, he said he thinks he loves me.”

he gasps loudly into the phone, “what? are you sure? like jaehyun said that? jaehyun?”

“exactly! it doesn’t even seem like something he’d do! he said it was because we were both drinking.”

“that doesn’t even matter,” johnny sighs, “you don’t go around saying that to your friend, especially not the friend you rejected before.”

“you get it! that’s literally what i told him! i need to sit down with you so we can discuss this.”

it’s quiet on the other side of the call, and by his silence, you can tell he’s planning something. it’s never good when he does, so you try to call out his name before he can think any more, but you’re too late.

“i think you should sit down with him to talk about what happened.”

you sarcastically laugh, “he hasn’t even texted me, there’s no way i’m talking to him first.”

“i didn’t say you should text him first, i’m just saying that you both should talk. you can’t just leave this off on bad terms.”

“and if i want to?”

“i know you don’t. plus, it feels like i’m a child whose parents are going through divorce, so you need to fix this.”

you whine into the phone, which causes johnny to laugh on the other end. he’s right, you don’t want this to end badly with jaehyun. even if you both decide to never talk again, you don’t want to have a strained relationship with him. after a few moments, you answer him, “fine, but don’t have your hopes up because even i don’t know what’s gonna happen.”

“okay, perfect, because i already kinda convinced jaehyun to meet up with you.”

“johnny!”

he defends himself, “like i said, i’m basically seeing you guys go through a divorce. please bring my family back together.”

“whatever, do what you want to do.” johnny cheers from the other end of the call, quickly letting out an you won’t be disappointed! before he hangs up, not even letting you say goodbye. as much as you try to hide it, a part of you is happy at the thought of jaehyun wanting to work things out with you.

even if you don’t know what you want just yet, you’ll get yourself ready.

you realize you’re no longer happy when a few days later, jaehyun shows up to your front doorstep, a frown painted on his face.

you almost want to slam the door on him when he speaks. his voice is quiet, “why did you tell johnny you didn’t want to hang out with me?”

as soon as he stops talking, it all clicks in your head. johnny tricked you both. you’ll have to get mad at him later, but for right now, you have to deal with jaehyun who’s pretending he didn’t just ignore you for almost two weeks. you reluctantly let him in, watching as he walks in almost too normally.

no one bothers talking, no one trying to make the first move. you’re staring him down and he tries to ignore the hard stare you’re giving him. while you’re glaring at him, you can see how he looks more tired than usual. the faint lines under his eyes give it away, and when he does finally make eye contact with you, it’s soft, no anger behind his eyes.

you step back, breathing in before speaking, “let’s go talk in my room.”

he sends you a soft smile, not needing you to guide him to your room. he knows the whole layout by now, feeling more like he’s leading you to your own room. he opens the door for you, choosing to let you walk in first. it’s awkward when you have to motion for him to step in, watching him not really knowing what to do.

you move to sit on your bed, and he moves to sit at your desk. it’s not as awkward as it is tense. you don’t know what to say, you didn’t plan on him coming over. his eyes are darting across your room, his eyebrows furrowed as he presumably tries to start the conversation.

“how are you doing?”

you roll your eyes at the simple question, “i’ve been doing fine. i feel like my life’s been a lot calmer since that day.”

he leans forward in his seat, “really? i feel like i’ve lost ten years of my life.”

deserved, you think. you gather all your thoughts before speaking, “i think the days that i spent without thinking about you really changed how i feel. i realized just how much i was entangled in your life. it wasn’t good for me.”

he looks off to the side, taking in your words. you see the hurt that settles in his face, you see how it’s going to be burned into his memory. he smacks his lips, “i think for me it’s the opposite. i realized during this time without you really solidified my feelings. i can’t lie and say that my feelings have changed, because they haven’t.”

you feel anger bubbling up inside you, but you can’t do that today. you take a few breaths, calming yourself down as you focus on what you’re most curious about, “why did you start liking me?”

“i don’t even know. i know it’s shitty of me to realize how much you mean to me after i said no to your confession. i understand why you said no to me.”

“i’m sorry for getting mad so quickly. it was just so out of the blue, i never would’ve expected you to say that.”

you pat the spot on your bed next to you, calling his name softly. he slowly moves to your side, his eyes focused on his hands splayed across his knees. after all this time without you, he wishes he could hold your hand in his, even if he tried to play it off as a joke. it’s been too long without your touch. you took away the only thing that kept him close to you.

“can i ask something?”

he nods, putting all of his focus on you. it feels intense when he does, you haven’t had him this close in a long time. you clear your throat, “this wasn’t all because of jungwoo, right?”

he sighs, his jaw clenching as he thinks of the right words to say. he’s deep in thought, and you almost want to tell him to drop it all together. he decides to speak up, “honestly? seeing you both together kind of made me realize my feelings. i was losing you to him, and i really couldn’t handle it. i’m not trying to ruin whatever you have going on with him, i promise.”

you don’t know what else to say. so much of this could've been prevented if you kept an eye out for yourself. you also wouldn’t want to go back and change what you’ve done. you don’t regret ever being jaehyun’s friend, you don’t regret all the memories you’ve made with him.

“so, this… this is really over then?”

you shrug, “i would think so.”

it’s quiet for a few moments, the both of you letting the thought seep in. “this” has never been defined between the two of you, but you can assume it’s almost everything you do together. what you’re feeling now is close to how you felt when he first rejected you. what’s different now is that you can’t help but feel just a little relieved, ending something that probably should’ve never happened.

in another world, you think you would’ve reciprocated jaehyun’s feelings. it would’ve been easy, pieces easily falling into place as you both fall for each other. it’s almost as if it were supposed to be something that was natural. but jaehyun had given the time for you to move on, and you did. it was too late for him to realize his own feelings.

“we can still be friends if you can handle that.”

he laughs incredulously, “if i can handle that? i’m a grown man, thank you very much.”

“yeah? well i think if i were you, i wouldn’t be able to hold back my feelings,” you tease.

he grumbles, “too soon, you’re too mean.”

jaehyun watches a pretty smile adorn your face, and if it weren’t for the current circumstances, he would tell you how pretty you look. he keeps the thought to himself though, opting to ask, “how about one last drink together as friends who are a little more than friends?”

you hum, pretending to think about it. you watch worry wash over his face, and you do feel bad a little bit. “one more time, just for your sake. you look like you might start crying.”

he groans as you walk away to get some wine for the both of you. you’re by yourself for a few moments as you pour the drinks. you feel awkward in here by yourself, left with thoughts and memories of all the things you’ve done together. all the times you’ve had sex, all the times where he’s felt like your boyfriend, but none of it holds to him being your friend.

you don’t know if you can continue being friends with him.

it would be unfair to jungwoo. you haven’t told him the exact dynamics of how your friendship with jaehyun worked, but you can assume he knows most of it.

you return to the sight of jaehyun looking around your room. he’s been in here too many times to count, and yet seeing him here now, it’s weird. he feels out of place, he feels almost like a stranger in your own apartment. despite the history you have with him, it seemed to fall apart so easily as soon as conflict hit.

he thanks you quietly when you hand him the glass. you take a small sip of your drink, watching jaehyun do the same from the corner of your eye. after the drink, he chooses to speak, “so how are you and jungwoo?’

“that’s how you want to start our small talk?” you splutter out.

“i mean, can i not be interested in my friends' love life?”

well it’s hard when you were directly involved in it. you shrug, taking another small sip before speaking, “i’m… really happy that i’m talking to him. he takes care of me, he’s always asking how i’m doing. it’s nice being with him.”

you can tell jaehyun is trying not to let your words affect him, “are you both… officially dating yet?”

his words make you shy, your facing feeling hot at the idea of dating jungwoo. brushing off his words, you laugh, “no! not yet, at least. i think i’d say yes if he asked me out.”

he nods, his head hanging heavy, hand twirling the wine in his glass. you know what he’s thinking, you don’t need to ask him. you can’t be his, you won’t ever be his. you think that this was never supposed to work out, no matter how hard you tried or how much you think he could’ve loved you. he wasn’t meant for you.

“okay, one more thing.”

he nods, turning his attention back on you.

“did you really mean it back then, like, when you said that you weren’t ready for a relationship?”

“yes, i was scared. i think back then, even though i didn’t realize it, i also had feelings for you. but it was… it just wasn’t the right time for me. even though i liked spending so much time with you, there were things i wanted to figure out first.”

you cock your head to the side, “like?”

he hums in thought for a bit, trying to remember times from so long ago. thinking back, you remember how you felt old, you felt like you were already an adult. but he’s right, there were still things you didn’t know about yourself, and you wonder if dating jaehyun would’ve stopped you from figuring them out.

“i guess… mostly wanting to decide what i wanted to do with my life. now that i’ve somewhat settled, i feel more confident in what i want. even though it came at the worst time, i was so sure that i could see you in my future.”

the confession doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. you can relate to how he feels. for the longest time, you felt that you needed jaehyun in your life. it wasn’t until after he confessed to you that you saw that there’s more to your life than him. you’re thankful for all the time you’ve had with him, but there’s still so much more for you to do.

it’s like this for a few more hours, the sunset bleeding into the night time. you both have a few more drinks, jaehyun eventually turns on music playing on his phone. you feel a lot better now. you only want the best for jaehyun, and you think that this is the best for the both of you.

jaehyun has to leave at some point, one of the last buses back to his place coming soon. you don’t want him to go, you don’t want him to leave the comfort of your bedroom. there’s a small part of you that’s scared that you’ll never see him here again. you try to remind him that this is what you both need, clear, distinct boundaries.

you walk him to your door, “you’ll text me once you're at your apartment, right?”

he shuffles over, “yeah, i will. johnny will make sure i get there safe.”

you nod, opening the door for him. he walks out, watching you with an unsure look on his face. a part of you wants to let him in, wants to let him give you one last kiss. it’s wrong, your grip on your door getting tighter at the thought. he still has a strong pull on you, your hand wanting to reach for his.

it’s not meant to be.

“goodnight, jaehyun. i’ll see you soon, okay?”

“alright, goodnight. i… i’ll be here if you ever need me. i’ll wait.”

you smile, “i know. thank you, get back safe.”

he nods, waving you off before he walks away. you close the door, locking it behind you. it’s quiet now, no soft conversations, no laughing, just the sound of your feet pattering on the floor.

you don’t really feel like crying. you don’t feel like there’s something missing inside you. jaehyun used to be a big part of you, but as time went on, he took up less and less space.

there’s more important things to worry about than someone who couldn’t make time for you. you have time to figure things out now, you have time to figure out what you really want, whether that’s jungwoo or someone else.

you’ve never felt better.

as jaehyun scrolls through instagram, he sees a post from you. it’s been a while since he’s seen you in person, so he’ll take anything he can get. the first few photos are of you, and the next few are pictures of things he assumes you found pretty. the last photo is what makes him pause, a photo of what he can only assume is jungwoo holding your hand.

he checks the comments, some of your friends replying with different emojis, all to tease you with. they all seem to know about your budding relationship with jungwoo. jaehyun’s glad that it’s going well for the both of you. it’s what you deserve after what he put you through.

he hung out with you and johnny the other day. as much as everyone tried to be normal, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he changed the dynamics of your friendship. you and johnny were the same, easily laughing and joking around with each other. it’s not exactly awkward when you and jaehyun talk, but the air around you is certainly different.

it’s what should’ve happened, at the start of it all you both should’ve set rules. jaehyun realizes that he would’ve never gotten to see you in the ways he did. warm lights from his kitchen painting over your skin, or when the light from the moon would shine over your body while he holds you close. he wouldn’t trade those memories for anything.

you were all he had, and losing you is something he will always regret. he knows that you’re doing good now, not just with jungwoo. he doesn’t want to come in and ruin what you’ve built up. it doesn’t matter how much he wants to hold you in his arms or kiss you, you’re better off without him.

he just wishes he had more time.

a/n: hey people... what did we think of this ending... jaehyun is my friend i do not hate him i like him... anyways i hoped u like this... it took longer than i thought it would but im glad its out HOORAYYY

taglist: @froggyforyoongi @the-universe-in-you-jjh @ppeachyttae @omlhyck @hazyhae @haechology @jaehyunful @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @diorcities @hrts4doie @ohmytyong @ecvm5236 @faeryus @riri4andy @rjtulips @missesgirl @shiorebirth @sugaringgcaramel @camomillie @ninicornposts @il02isa @sincerelyneo @perfumejamal @justhgiwo @lovingyoulovinme2 @babyriannie @eunseoksimp @jeonreal @mawnehkah @shoetaroshoe (thank u all omg 🫂❤️)

#nct smut #nct fic #nct 127 smut #nct jaehyun smut #jaehyun fic #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun angst #jaehyun scenarios

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gayasswitchbitch · 1 month ago

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One Piece- Do they get jealous?

Synopsis: One piece headcannons! Do they get jealous when someone tries to flirt with you?

Ft: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Robin, Nami, Ace, and Law

Tw: none (I THINK) just insecure and jealous thoughts.

Luffy- He wouldn’t understand someone flirting in the first place. I think Nami would have to point out that another person is flirting with you, but even then he doesn’t get it. He would something along the lines of :

“There’s no way someone is flirting with y/n because they’re my partner! Geez.. you guys are dumb!”

He genuinely can’t fathom that someone would try to get with you when he is already with you!

Zoro- I don’t think so. He’s a very confident man and has a decent sized ego. He knows what he’s got. Hes not insecure enough to be jealous over someone liking you.

That being said, I don’t believe he’d just let someone flirt with you though. 100% ready to fight ESPECIALLY if someone puts their hands on you in any way. He’d tell them to back off because you’re taken maybe even a:

“Yeah my partner is really beautiful/handsome aren’t they?” with a smirk and an arm wrapped around your shoulder just to piss them off.

It’s his way of showing you off and making it known that he’s willing to throw down if needed, but he would most likely make another shitty comment and then leave with you in hand.

If they keep persisting though, then he’s going to get pissed off but he def tries to keep it cool before it gets to a fight breaking out.

Sanji- GOD YES. SO JEALOUS. Don’t even let mosshead BREATHE near you! Any time you give another person, specifically another man, attention he LOSES IT.

“Do you hate me, my love? Am I not good enough for you? Tell me what I can do better. I’ll do anything for you just please spare me a passing glance again! What could they give you that I can’t? I’d walk to the ends of the earth for you. I’d starve if it meant you could eat. My love please tell me you still love me!”

When all that happened was you were asking Usopp to help you with some gadget and it took too long in Sanji time. (Which was probably an hour)

He would def try to compete with anyone that did flirt. It was a fierce battle and there was no way he’s losing.

“Did you know that my y/n-swan loves the rain? You can always find her by a tree, blissfully meditating. They love it because it makes them feel like all their stress is being washed away. You can see it fall right off their shoulders. Did you also know that their favorite color is (whatever) ? You can always catch a twinkle in their eye anytime they see it. They have exactly 7 outfits in that color. Did you also know that they like to collect trinkets? They pick one up at every single place we stop the sunny at. Yeah I took it upon myself to be the one to find the trinkets now. Did you know that? Did you also know-“ and he wouldn’t stop.

I could even see him taking it as far as to tell them that they’re not good enough for and could never be good enough for you, then would immediately turn around and seek validation from you to make sure you love him and only him.

Robin- She doesn’t get jealous, she gets possessive. Babygirl has had everyone she loves taken from her so she’s making damn sure you’re not going away and that means you are by her side 24/7.

Most of the time no one even dares to think about flirting with you due to how scary she can be.

She’s a very observant woman. If someone liked you she would instantly spot it and give death stares.

If they still tried to approach you, she would be crossing her arms to take them out, smiling the entire time.

Nami- I think it would only happen if she genuinely thought someone was prettier than her and they were around you alot.

She would get sad and seek reassurance by trying to push your buttons. If that doesnt make her feel better then she would walk up to you and turn at glare at the person before wrapping her arms around your neck to pull you into a deep kiss. After she’s swirling around and giving a “Hmph.” And walking away.

Most of the time she knows she got it. If you wanna be stupid and cheat then it’s on you when she burns down all your belongings.

Ace- This man is already insecure as fuck and your ass is out here being fine as hell. It’s stressful because he knows you’re fine and he knows that other people know you’re fine. He’s like a damn guard dog that doesn’t stop barking. He finds ways to constantly bring you up and it’s a front to make sure everyone knows you’re taken.

“What was that? Oh yeah my partner is really smart! I’m so proud of you babe!”

“Man look at my partner. They’re so strong!”

If he sees someone flirting he gets an instant wave of anxiety. What if you finally realize there’s other people better suited for you out there? What if you finally see that he’s nothing special and that you should move on? What if you see that he’s really not as handsome as you think he is? And what if you think this person is more handsome/pretty? What if they’re funnier? What if he never gets to be the one to put a smile on your face again? Then it’s breakdown time. This happens at least twice a month. He will go on about how he doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve to be here, doesn’t deserve so much goodness when his blood is so corrupt.

Just remind that baby that you’re with him because you love him, you do think he’s the most handsome and it’s insane that he doesn’t see it, that he’s the only person that can make you laugh so hard and so on and he’s good for another month. This only lasts for maybe the first year or so. The more you reassure him, the more confident he gets in your love and starts realizing he is worth of it.

Sabo- Like Robin, he’s more possessive. He will politely laugh along with any onlookers while you’re around and thank them for complimenting you, but as soon as you’re not in the room it’s near death threats.

“Look, I understand y/n is very beautiful/handsome.. but you try and flirt with them again and it’ll be the last thing you ever do”

He says it so calmly, eyes so wide, that it’s actually terrifying.

I could also see him being much more calm about it and making some obscure lie to make them go away like telling them you have a contagious disease and then forcefully coughing until they run away. He’d walk back to the base laughing his ass off too.

Law- I wouldnt say he gets jealous.. he gets irritated. He knows when someone is flirting with you and as long as they don’t take it to physical touching he won’t do anything. He trusts you and knows where you two stand but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t cause burning pain in his chest.

Bepo may point out what’s happening and he’s like:

“I’m aware. If they needed help they would say.” But it’s honestly taking all his strength not to strangle the person.

Sachi and Penguin might stir the pot and ask their captain what he would do if you were enjoying it, which was an awful idea. Now he’s slammed a hand on the table and clenching his jaw.

“They don’t.” He says through gritted teeth.

“But-“

One word. The one ‘but’ was all it took for Law to jump out of his seat, rush over to you and grab your hand into his roughly.

“Come on. We’re leaving.”

If you tried to hesitate he’d whip his head around and give you a stare. One you know that if you disobey you’ll be scrubbing the deck for the next week. So he’s taking you back to the ship and throwing you against his office door in a heated kiss.

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irndad · 10 months ago

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oh, but you're good to me -s.r.

a/n: i continue to not know the word count- but here's pining!spencer x sunshine!reader!! very hozier coded <3

The team has gone out for drinks after a stressful week, and this is a moment where Spencer finds that his willpower does not so easily overpower his desire. They’d chosen a kind of kitsch place, the kind where there’s couches where waitresses could bring you your drink under dimmed lights and music with cozy acoustic music played. Emily and Morgan were comparing conquests at their trip to the club the week prior, Penelope chiming in with warm support on either end. On the opposite table, Hotch and Rossi were discussing criminology in serious, even tones.

And Spencer, well. He was well-occupied.

His best friend is on the team, and he does not say that lightly. She’s earned her place in his heart, as hopelessly romantic as that makes him sound. But she did. He remembers the day he met her, warm tone seeped in patience and understanding.

He remembers the sight of her like its engraved crystal, carved into the basis of his mind. Her delicate features distinct in their warm kindness. She’d offered her hand, shook it and giggled a sweet sound when he’d said it’d be safer to kiss. He’d blushed enough that his lack of flirtation in his intent was clear.

On the jet, that first case, she’d listened to him talk about Russian literature and other obscure topics he couldn’t remember now, because now, all he can recall is the color of her doe eyes meeting him in intention.

He’s pretty sure he’s in love with her.

Which, right now, feels a bit like a drug- both painful and exhilarating. She’s a cuddly drunk (only with him, it seems) and he’s got a lanky arm tugged over her shoulder. It’s lovely in a way words vex him, the weight of her against him.

“You look nice today, Spence,” she muses, looking up at him. His heart is going to stop.

“You do too,” he breathes out. This is nice. She’s touchy, and he likes when she touches him. It’s a pleasure, like sipping expensive wine or decadent chocolate, sweet and a little bit sad, because you know you can’t have it forever.

She plays with his scarf, and he is hopelessly endeared by the sight of the fabric in between her delicate fingers.

“This color is nice,” she muses, and god, he wants to kiss her. This a thought Spencer has often, oftentimes at inopportune times. On the jet, in the office, at her house, in the car- always, really.

Except now, no one’s looking at them. If loving her was enough to make her love him back, then he could.

But it isn’t.

He chokes back the emotion rich in his throat. He brushes her hair out of her face, a tender motion that betrays his intentions with her.

“You always look lovely,” Spencer says earnestly. I love looking at you, he thinks.

She smiles back earnestly and warmly.

“I didn’t think you noticed things like that.”

“I always do, when it’s you.”

He doesn’t know why this is what he’s allowed to have. She’s so close to him, pinned up against him and he can feel the curve of her waist against his side. He doesn’t get it, why he’s not her boyfriend but he still gets moments like these, where she’s pinned to him like velcro. He’s addicted to them, really- craves the moments where she falls asleep on his lap on the jet, where they’ll be walking together somewhere and she’ll lace their fingers and tug him along when she’s excited and the destination in sight.

Maybe this is just how she touches her best friends- he tries not to question it, because he doesn’t want to loosest.

But tonight, under the low-light of the bar, shadows of her lashes thrown across the slope of her cheek- he wants to ask her.

“Are you like this with everyone?” He muses. He immediately regrets it, sees her face harden and feels the shift away from him, and the space leaves a gap of cold air. There’s a swoop f nerves in his stomach.

“I don’t know, I think I just thought- you know, we’re like this. We’re touchy, you and me.”

He’s not touchy. Everyone knows this, but she’s the exception to a rule that has held true his entire life. But he loves this, loves the feeling of this.

“I like this,” he says, intentional eye contact trained on her shaking irises. He reaches out and laces their fingers in an act of bravery that rivals some of his most intense moments, “I’m wanting inf you want more of it. Because I do.”

“You do?”

She’s back close to him, now, and he’s so immensely grateful for it. She smells like lilies and her, and this might be the only time he’s brave enough to do something like this.

It turns out he doesn’t have to, because before he can answer, she kisses him. It happens fast, and his response is all instinct- pulling her into him closer, his hands around her waist and her soft sigh into his mouth that threatens to kill him. It’s better than his fantasies at night could have made him expect.

“Hi,” she says, barely above a whisper when she pulls away. She looks a little adorably off-guard, in a way he’d like to create- like to instigate.

“Hi back,” he says, a beaming grin threatening to spread over his face. He tries to memorize the feeling of this, the weight of her in his arms in case this is not something he can keep- he wants to remember it, what it felt like for her to kiss him, to be wanted by her.

“Do you want to go out sometime?”

“Like out of here? It’s kind of cold outside-“

“On a date, Spencer.”

Instead of a response, Spencer kisses her again. It is absolutely the right choice.

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

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kirammanswifey · 3 days ago

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how arcane characters would deal with mental disorders x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: writing this felt like giving myself a warm hug, a comfort that i needed. if anyone reading this is going through or has gone through any of these disorders, i want to tell you that you are very brave because it is not an easy thing, so feel proud of yourself. i hope you liked this as much as i did. as i'm a psychology student, i felt very motivated and i hope that it was quite understandable and enjoyable. as you already know request are open ;)

P.S. i know the other option won in the poll on my profile, but i need more time to refine the ideas and make something high quality that everyone will love, which i’ll be posting tomorrow ;)

Viktor Depression

The world around you feels like a constant weight, a heavy blanket that wraps around you, not letting you breathe. You wake up each day with a sense of emptiness in your chest, as if a black hole is absorbing all your energy, your motivation, your ability to feel anything other than sadness and apathy.

It’s not that you don’t want to get out of bed; it’s that the simple act of moving a finger feels like a titanic task. Fatigue is your constant companion, a shadow that never leaves you. Things that once filled you with joy now seem distant, irrelevant, as if they belonged to a life that is no longer yours.

The dark thoughts are your constant whispers, reminding you that you’re not enough, that it’s all pointless, that there’s no way out. Sometimes, you cry without knowing why; other times, you want to cry, but even that you can’t do. You feel trapped in an invisible prison, with no strength to fight your way out.

Viktor watches you from the doorway of your room, his gaze soft and full of concern. He knows the weight of shadows well, although his are different. Silently, he approaches and sits on the edge of the bed, not invading your space, but close enough for you to feel his presence.

“I have a new project I’m working on,” he says in a quiet voice, trying not to break the fragile bubble of your world. “I thought maybe you could join me today. You don’t have to do anything, just be there. Your company always helps me think.”

He doesn’t pressure you. Viktor understands that words can be hard to find when your mind is clouded by depression. He knows that the solution isn’t to force you to feel better, but to be with you, to offer you a hand, a small step forward.

He gently rises and offers his hand, not expecting you to take it, but hoping that you’ll know he’s there, ready to support you when you’re ready. “The world can wait,” he murmurs. “But I’m here, whenever you want to come back.”

His patience is infinite, his understanding deep. Viktor doesn’t try to fix you, because he doesn’t see you as broken. He knows that depression is a battle you fight every day, and he’s willing to walk alongside you, every small step, every shared silence.

You look at his hand, then his face; he’s concerned even though he tries to hide it. You make a huge effort to get out of bed, and even though your body doesn’t cooperate at first, you manage. You take his hand and gently squeeze it; that’s the most affection you can give him right now, you’re exhausted.

“Let’s go,” you murmur, your voice hoarse and broken; it’s the first time you’ve spoken all day.

You’re sitting next to Viktor in his small workshop, surrounded by pieces of metal and unfinished prototypes. He’s explaining his latest invention, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up his eyes. You feel a little better, enough to enjoy his company, and for a moment, a laugh escapes your lips when you hear one of his stories.

“Did you really say that to Heimerdinger?” you laugh, your eyes shining with a spark of life. It’s a small moment, but for Viktor, it’s like seeing the sun rise after a storm.

He smiles, pleased to have made you laugh. “Yes, and his face... It was certainly indescribable,” he replies with a softness that reflects his pleasure at seeing you enjoy yourself, even if just for an instant.

But suddenly, without warning, the laughter turns into a lump in your throat. The spark of joy fades as quickly as it came, and you find yourself trapped in a wave of overwhelming sadness. The tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you can’t stop them. The confusion in your eyes is evident, as if your body has betrayed the fleeting happiness you just felt.

Viktor notices immediately. He leans toward you, his expression turning serious, but his eyes remain warm and full of understanding. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t seek explanations that may be impossible to give. Instead, he moves a little closer, offering you his silent presence.

“It’s okay,” he says gently, his voice an anchor amidst your internal storm. “You don’t have to explain it. Just breathe.”

He offers you his hand, this time with more intent. You take it, feeling the warmth and firmness in his grip, a reminder that you’re not alone in this moment. You needed that contact. You needed to know that you could feel something other than sadness right now. Viktor doesn’t pull away, doesn’t feel uncomfortable. He knows that depression doesn’t follow rules, that it can strike at any moment, and he’s willing to stay with you, no matter how long it lasts.

“Do you want us to stay here?” he asks, his tone delicate. “Or we can walk a little, if that helps.”

His willingness to adapt to your needs wraps you in a sense of safety. Even though the tears keep falling, Viktor’s presence is a balm, a reminder that, even in the darkest moments, there’s someone who sees you, who understands you, and who’s willing to stay by your side.

“Just... stay here with me,” you say, letting yourself fall against his body, exhausted.

He caught you and wrapped you with care, it was a hug with the right amount of strength.

“Take your time, darling. I won’t go anywhere,” Viktor promised in a whisper, never stopping the caresses on your back.

And that was enough to make you feel less miserable.

Jinx Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)

The echo of the explosions still resonates in your mind, even though years have passed since that day when your world crumbled. The night everything you loved was consumed by flames in an attack on the Undercity. The night you lost your family and were left alone, with the screams and the smell of smoke forever etched in your memory.

As you walk beside Jinx through the bustling streets of Zaun, everything seems normal, almost calm, until an explosion in the distance makes your heart stop. It’s a dry, loud sound, far too similar to the one you heard that night. Without warning, your breath becomes shallow, your lungs struggle to take in air, and an overwhelming sense of absolute panic takes hold of you.

Your body freezes, and it feels as if the world around you disappears. The crowd, the lights, even Jinx—all fade away, leaving you alone in that dark place where time doesn’t move. The ground beneath your feet seems to give way, and you feel yourself falling again into that abyss of the past.

"Hey, hey!" Jinx’s voice cuts through the fog in your mind. Her hands grip your shoulders, and her gaze searches for yours with desperation. "You’re not there, do you hear me? You’re here, with me."

Her words feel distant, but the warmth of her hands somehow anchors you, reminding you that you’re not alone. "But... the sound..." you murmur, barely audible, as tears start to fall down your cheeks. "It was the same... the same as that night."

Jinx guides you to a quieter corner, away from the noise, holding your hand firmly. "Breathe, hon, like we always do," she says softly, her voice tinged with controlled urgency. "Fill up those lungs, okay? Like we’re balloons."

You try to follow her instructions, but every time you close your eyes to concentrate, the images of that night hit you with renewed force. "It’s not working," you whisper, trembling. "It’s always there. No matter how much I try, it doesn’t go away. It doesn’t go away!" You scream in panic, the fingers of your hands stiffening, making them immobile.

The worry in Jinx’s eyes softens a little, but there’s something else there, something you can only describe as recognition. "That explosion... it reminded me of something too," she says after a moment, her voice quieter, almost a whisper. "I’ve been there, in that fucked-up place, where the ghosts never stop screaming."

Her words are like a key that opens the door to a deeper understanding.

She falls silent for a moment, gazing into the distance before refocusing her attention on you. "When I have my attacks, you’re always there for me, and I remember I’m not alone. That helps me a lot," she admits, a small, almost sad smile curving her lips. "And you’re not alone either, hon. We’re not broken, just a little bent. And here we are, bent together."

The hug she offers you is warm and firm, a tangible reminder that you’re not alone. You feel her strength, her determination, and something else: her own fear, her own struggle. "You don’t have to fight alone," she whispers, her voice a promise. "If you ever feel like you’re going to fall, we’ll fall together. And then, we’ll rise. Always."

You cling to her like a lifeline, letting her warmth and her words anchor you to the present, if only for a moment. "Thank you, sweets," you whisper, allowing yourself, for the first time in a long time, to feel that it’s okay not to be okay.

Vi Anxiety Disorder

The night drags you into the abyss of your mind, but you find no respite. Instead of waking softly to the day, you're trapped in pure panic. Your chest burns, each breath a lost battle. Your heart gallops wildly, as if trying to escape your chest. You are drenched in sweat, the sheets sticking to your skin, becoming yet another prison.

Your eyes snap open, the darkness of the room seems to close in on you, and the silence is deafening. The sensation of suffocation consumes you. You try to gulp down air, but it's as though your lungs have forgotten how to function. Your hands search for something, anything, to anchor you to reality, but all they find is emptiness.

The door swings open abruptly, and Vi stands there, alert, her eyes filled with concern. She doesn't need to ask what’s wrong; she knows instantly. She moves swiftly but carefully, approaching you without frightening you further.

"Breathe with me," she says gently, her hands finding yours, steady yet comforting. "Inhale through your nose... like this... and exhale through your mouth."

You try to follow her, but your body won’t cooperate. Your breath is shallow, frantic, as though every breath disintegrates before it even reaches your lungs. Tears begin to streak down your cheeks, mixing with the sweat.

"Vi... I can’t... I can't... I’m scared," you stammer, your words broken by sobs. Your mind is caught in a loop of terror, every thought spiraling downward, taking you further away from calm.

Vi sits beside you on the bed, her voice low and constant. "Don’t be afraid. Listen to my voice. I’m here with you, and I won’t let anything bad happen to you." Her tone is firm, anchoring you in the present, pulling you out of the tide of your own fear.

"But it hurts... my chest... I can't breathe..." Your body trembles, and your hands clutch desperately at her grasp. The feeling of control slipping away is overwhelming, leaving you feeling helpless.

Vi pulls you into an embrace, holding you close, offering her calm, her strength. "This is temporary. It won’t last forever," she whispers in your ear. "Trust me. Focus on me."

Slowly, very slowly, her voice cuts through the fog of your mind. You begin to breathe more deeply, following her rhythm, feeling how her presence stabilizes you, like a lighthouse in the storm. The pain in your chest begins to lessen, the pressure relents just a little, and your body starts to remember how to breathe without fighting.

Vi continues to speak, her voice a soft murmur, calming you with every word. "You’re strong. You have control, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now."

The tears still flow, but now they are tears of relief, not fear. "Don’t leave... don’t leave. I need you here," you whisper, your voice broken but sincere.

Vi strokes your hair, her other hand gently squeezing yours. "I’m not going anywhere, little doe," she says affectionately, kissing your forehead, tasting the salty remnants of your sweat.

You remain in her arms a moment longer, allowing yourself to rest, letting her strength hold you as you regain your own. Gradually, the panic fades, leaving only exhaustion and the certainty that Vi will always be by your side, no matter how dark the nights may get.

Caitlyn Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD)

The silence in the apartment is deafening. The only sound that breaks the stillness is the relentless ticking of the wall clock, its rhythm echoing in your ears like a hammer. You’re in the kitchen, eyes fixed on the glasses you’ve meticulously arranged in the cupboard. Each glass must be perfectly spaced, each one aligned to the exact same level. Symmetry isn’t just a preference—it’s a necessity. If something is out of place, you feel as though the whole world could collapse.

Your breathing is uneven, your chest rising and falling in quick succession. "One, two, three..." you murmur to yourself, counting each movement. Your hands tremble, but you can’t stop. You can’t stop. If you do, something terrible will happen. You don’t know what, but the certainty that it will be catastrophic clings to you like a shadow.

Caitlyn enters the apartment after a long day at work. Her expression shifts instantly when she sees you in the kitchen, trapped in your own ritual. She stops in the doorway, watching you with a mix of concern and sadness. It’s not the first time she’s found you like this, but each time, it hurts her as though it were.

"Darling?" Her voice is soft, as if afraid to shatter you. She steps closer, carefully setting her hat down on the table. "What are you doing?"

You don’t answer at first, your eyes still fixed on the glasses. "Almost done... just a few more minutes," you whisper, your voice trembling. You can’t stop. Every glass moved, every small adjustment is a battle between reason and irrational fear.

Caitlyn stops beside you, her eyes scanning the scene, seeing the perfect pattern you’ve created. "You don’t have to do this," she says gently, yet firmly.

Your hands freeze for a moment, but the urge to continue is too strong. "You don’t understand... if I don’t do it right, if they’re not perfectly aligned, something bad is going to happen." Tears begin to well up in your eyes, the pressure in your chest intensifying. "I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, but it’s like my mind... it can’t stop."

Caitlyn takes a deep breath, her hand reaching out to touch your shoulder delicately. "You’re not crazy," she says, locking eyes with you. "I know this is hard, that your mind doesn’t give you peace. But you don’t have to face it alone. Let me help you."

You turn to look at her, your eyes filled with desperation. "I can’t stop, Cait. If I do, I feel like everything will fall apart. I can’t control what’s happening inside my head."

Caitlyn nods slowly, her gaze unwavering from yours. "I know, darling. And I know this won’t be fixed in a day. But I’m here, and I’m going to stay by your side. We’ll face it together."

Her words anchor you, a beacon in the storm that is your mind. Slowly, almost against your will, your hands begin to lower, moving away from the glasses. The fear is still there, a current running just beneath the surface, threatening to overwhelm you, but Caitlyn is beside you, her presence a reminder that you’re not alone.

"Breathe with me," she says, her voice soft and steady. "Inhale... exhale... together."

You follow her instructions, though your lungs seem to resist, full of anxiety. Caitlyn guides you, her hand never leaving your shoulder. "See? We’re doing it! You’re doing it!" She encourages, kissing your neck when she notices you’ve looked away from the glasses for five seconds. It was only five seconds, but Caitlyn knew it was a huge accomplishment, and she celebrated it.

You let out a small sigh, the tension in your muscles easing slightly. Your hands travel to Caitlyn’s waist, moving her so the glasses are no longer in your line of sight. You let your head fall against her chest, breathing in her scent. It’s so much better, especially when you start counting the beats of her heart.

"How brave my wonderful and glorious girlfriend is. I’m so proud of you," she whispered, her fingers weaving through your hair as she praised you.

"Cait, I love you so much. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me," you whisper against her warm chest, unwilling to leave that comforting refuge.

Caitlyn chuckles softly, and it feels like music to your ears.

"I feel the same way, darling," Caitlyn replied, gently swaying your bodies from side to side in a small rhythm.

You know that your compulsions won’t disappear, that the need for control will remain, but with Caitlyn, you feel like you can face it one day at a time.

Jayce Narcissistic Personality Disorder

The mirror in your room is your judge, jury, and executioner. Every imperfection is a sentence, every flaw a conviction. You spend hours in front of it, adjusting, retouching, trying to reach a perfection that always seems to slip through your fingers. Your heart beats fast, not from excitement, but from the constant fear that the world will see the cracks beneath your flawless facade.

Jayce enters quietly, his presence comforting and, at the same time, a threat. What will he think? Does he notice the imperfections you see? He steps closer, his gaze soft, but you feel the weight of his eyes as if he's scrutinizing every flaw.

"Love, it's late. Come to bed," he says in a calm voice, trying to distract you from your self-destructive spiral.

"Just one more moment," you reply without looking at him, your focus still on the mirror, searching for symmetry in your features, perfection in the unattainable.

Jayce sits on the edge of the bed, watching you. "You've been here for hours. You don't have to do this. You're beautiful just as you are."

His statement, though well-intentioned, feels like a white lie. "You don’t understand, Jayce," you murmur, your voice trembling with suppressed frustration. "If I’m not perfect, I’m nobody. I can’t let them see my flaws. I can't let… you see them."

Jayce stands, walking toward you carefully, as if approaching a flickering flame. "You don’t have to be perfect to be loved," he says, his words a whisper in the storm raging in your mind. "You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, least of all to me."

Your gaze finally meets his through the reflection. Tears fight their way out, but you can't allow such weakness. "It's not that simple," you whisper. "Every day, every look, every word, it’s all a test. And if I fail…"

Jayce places his hands on your shoulders, his eyes filled with compassion and infinite patience. "If you fail, I’ll be here to lift you up."

"And what if I’m not enough?" The question slips out before you can stop it, the insecurity behind your narcissism showing in all its rawness. "What if one day you realize you deserve something better?"

Jayce leans in, his forehead touching yours, a gesture so intimate it almost breaks you. "I deserve someone who loves me for who I am, not for what I pretend to be. And that’s exactly what you are to me. I don’t have impossible expectations of you. I just want you to be happy, to find peace in who you are."

The internal struggle within you is fierce. The fear of rejection, the desire for perfection, the need to be seen and admired, all mix together in a whirlwind that consumes you. But in Jayce's arms, for a moment, the noise silences. His love is not a chain, but a refuge, one that offers rest if only you can let yourself fall into it.

"How can you be so sure?" you ask, your voice broken but curious.

"Because I love you," he answers without hesitation. "And love isn’t about waiting for perfection. It’s about accepting every part of you, even the ones you think are flaws."

The tears finally make their way out, releasing something within you that has been held back for so long. Jayce holds you as you cry, whispering words of comfort, letting all the pressure, fear, and anguish flow out of you.

"You’re perfect," you whisper, your voice cracked but full of sincerity. In your mind, Jayce is the epitome of everything you don’t believe you are: strong, confident, unshakable.

Jayce smiles softly, his hand caressing your cheek, wiping away the tears still falling. "No, I’m just a man in love. A man who loves you madly." His voice is warm, filled with a tenderness that disarms you. "Why don’t you show me that precious smile of yours? Please, it would make me so happy."

His sweet words touch your heart, and the corners of your lips stretch on their own, forming a sad smile.

"Gorgeous," Jayce murmured, caressing your lips with his strong, calloused fingers.

"Flatterer," you reply with a more elaborate smile, your eyes still wet, but now with a different shine, one that reflects the spark of hope he’s ignited in you.

"I’m just stating facts. I’m a scientist, honey, so I can tell you that, from my perspective, it’s scientifically proven that you’re gorgeous," he commented wryly, a wit that made you laugh.

Jayce smiled and kissed your forehead, holding you firmly in his arms. Finally, you feel like you can breathe, like air is filling your lungs again without that constant weight on your chest.

Ekko Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD)

The room is silent except for the soft hum of music playing in the background, but your mind cannot stop racing. Your thoughts scatter like arrows shot in every direction. You try to focus on something, anything, but it feels as though your brain is in a constant battle between the ideas that come and go. The light from the lamp flickers irregularly, and for a moment, you wonder if the bulb is about to explode. This makes no sense, you know that, but the unease lingers.

You quickly get up from the bed, taking a misstep, tripping over a chair you hadn’t seen, barely avoiding it. Your heart races. Everything is a series of chaotic jumps in your head, an endless torrent of thoughts that can’t follow a single path. You look at the desk, with papers scattered about—unfinished projects, ideas you can’t ground. Everything calls to you, but you can’t focus on anything.

Your hands tremble slightly as you grab the pen and begin to write down an idea that came to you, but before you finish the sentence, a new image flashes in your mind. You stop, leaving the pen on the desk and staring out the window. Something about the glow of the stars makes you think of something else. You can’t concentrate. Everything distracts you, even the small noises you used to never notice. It’s so annoying.

Suddenly, you feel the stress begin to accumulate in your shoulders. It’s not just the lack of concentration; it’s the sense of constantly running toward something without ever arriving. You try to finish a task, but more and more thoughts pile up, projects, things that need doing. Everything seems urgent, and nothing seems possible to complete. Anxiety settles in your chest.

You’re about to get up again when you hear the sound of the door opening behind you. Ekko enters the room, his calming presence is the only thing that makes you stop for a moment. He watches you in silence for a few seconds, noticing the frenzy of your movements. You hadn’t realized, but your breathing is irregular, and you’ve gotten up twice without purpose. Something isn’t right.

He watches you quietly, understanding the internal struggle you’re facing. He knows what this means, what it costs you every day.

“What’s going on? Why are you so worked up?” he asks, his voice soft but with enough authority to make you stop and listen.

Your eyes focus on a fixed point, but you can’t find the words to explain what you’re feeling. You don’t know how to put into words what’s happening. It’s like you’re trapped in a cycle of thoughts that never stop.

“My mind... it doesn’t stop moving,” you finally manage to say, almost in a whisper. “Every time I try to do something, it’s like something else distracts me. Nothing stays. Everything slips away.”

Ekko watches you silently for a moment, understanding the fight you’re facing. He knows exactly what this feels like.

“I get it, babe,” he responds, his tone firm but gentle. “I know your mind’s all over the place right now, but I promise we can do this one step at a time. We’ll focus on one thing at a time, no pressure. Sound good?”

The fact that Ekko is offering to be there, without judgment, brings you relief. You know that the impulsiveness you feel, the urge to move without a plan, is something that consumes you. Your mind jumps from one thought to another, and each of those thoughts feels like an urgent need, an immediate necessity. But at the same time, nothing makes sense. Everything is scattered and out of control.

“It’s just that...” your words fade into the air, unable to be completed. You feel trapped in your own body, in your own brain. You can’t stop, but you can’t move forward either.

Ekko gently places a hand on your shoulder, his touch calming. “How can we start?” he asks sincerely, not rushing you. “Tell me what you need.”

For a moment, everything seems to stop. The flood of thoughts quiets down, and for the first time in a long while, you can think clearly, even if it’s just for an instant. It’s not about having everything figured out right away; it’s about feeling that someone is there, willing to stand by you while you navigate through the mental whirlwind.

“I just... I don’t know how to do it without jumping from one thing to another,” you murmur, frustration and shame creeping into your voice. “I feel like everything’s overwhelming, and I can’t focus on anything.”

“We’ll take it slow,” Ekko replies, his tone calm and direct. “First, breathe. The first step is to breathe, and then we can start with just one thing. The rest can wait.”

You close your eyes for a moment and follow his words. You breathe deeply, slowly, trying to find the balance that always seems so hard to reach. Ekko is there, not rushing you, waiting for your mind to settle. With his help, little by little, you manage to focus on one small task, one that’s manageable enough not to overwhelm you. It’s just one step, but it’s a step toward calm.

“You don’t have to do it all right now,” Ekko says softly. “What matters is that you’re not alone in this. We’ll go step by step.”

You feel the knot in your stomach loosening, even though there’s still much to do. But at this moment, with him by your side, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you can find a way toward a little peace.

After hours of work and soft laughter, you’re sitting on the floor, with Ekko beside you, both looking at the pieces left to place in a puzzle. It’s almost complete, the pieces fitting perfectly, and though the hours have flown by, you feel lighter, the atmosphere quieter.

“One more,” Ekko says with a smile, holding up a piece in the air. He passes it to you, and together, you place it in its spot, completing the picture. The puzzle is done, and though it’s a small accomplishment, it feels more meaningful than it seems. Not just because of what you’ve completed, but because you’ve managed to feel centered, accompanied.

When you look at the drawing you had left unfinished, now finally complete, you feel a deep sense of satisfaction. Ekko helped bring to life the image that only existed in your mind, his hands working alongside yours, following every line with care.

“You did it,” Ekko says, his eyes shining with pride. “My girl is incredible.” He pulled you into his lap and kissed your forehead.

You look at him, your heart beating a little faster. The fatigue of the afternoon washes over you, but you don’t care. All that matters is that he’s here, by your side, and that, for once, you feel at peace. The air feels lighter, as if the space between you two has been reduced, softened by the stillness of the moment.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your words barely a whisper, but full of gratitude.

Ekko turns toward you, his expression softening. “Don’t thank me. Thank yourself. You’re the one who made it happen, not me.”

The way he looks at you, the way his presence has become part of your space, makes you smile. And, in a moment of impulse, without thinking too much about it, you move a little closer. He seems to understand it instantly, and before you can second-guess yourself, his lips brush against yours. It’s a soft kiss, no rush, no urgency, just a moment where words aren’t needed.

When you pull away, both of you stay there, looking at each other, the air between you charged with something that doesn’t need to be named. Ekko smiles, his eyes sparkling with that glint that makes you feel as though everything is right, as if the world, for a moment, is in its place.

“Everything’s okay now,” Ekko says softly, filling you with calm.

And in that instant, you believe him.

Silco Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD)

The air in Silco's office is thick with tension, as always. The sound of the bustling city echoes through the glass windows, but inside, everything is still, almost as rigid as the gaze Silco fixes on you. You're sitting across from him, feeling a familiar dizziness, as if everything is out of control and, at the same time, you're trapped in an empty space. A mix of confusion and anxiety courses through every fiber of your being.

Your hands tremble slightly, and although you try to control your breathing, each inhalation seems to sink you further into the internal chaos. The voices in your head blend together, demanding answers, claiming something you can't give. Silco watches you calmly, but it's a cold, calculated calm, as if everything that's going on inside you is a game he knows how to play.

You feel the emptiness consuming you, and yet an unbearable pressure weighs on your chest. Your mind betrays you, throwing destructive thoughts at you, telling you you're worthless, that everything you do is doomed to fail. The contradiction is overwhelming: on one hand, you feel lost, and on the other, you refuse to give in to the feeling of helplessness.

"Are you alright?" Silco asks, his voice low and steady, but there's a slight intensity in his tone. He doesn't break eye contact, as if he's evaluating every micro-expression on your face, every movement. He knows you're not, but still, he asks. Is it a test? A need to know how far you can go? The silence stretches on, and your thoughts only intensify.

The urge to stand up and run from it all is strong. Everything in you screams to follow your impulses, to escape, to flee from the overwhelming weight of it all. But you stay there, because something in you knows that running will only plunge you deeper into the darkness you're feeling inside. You see yourself fighting, trying to maintain control, but every second makes you feel more lost.

"I'm sorry... I don't know what's happening to me," you whisper, your voice broken, struggling against the avalanche of emotions threatening to drown you. You feel the tears pressing behind your eyes, but you force yourself to keep composure. "It's just... it's all so intense. So confusing."

Silco keeps watching you in silence. There's no judgment in his gaze, only a calculated assessment, as if he's reading between the lines of your suffering. After a long moment, he sighs and stands up from his chair, approaching you slowly. It's not a sudden gesture, but calm, as if he's used to dealing with people who struggle with their own minds. He says nothing, but his presence is the only thing anchoring you in this moment.

With one hand, he takes yours. The contact is firm, but not aggressive, as if he's giving you space to breathe, but also space to not escape. In his eyes, something changes. There's an understanding that you can't fully decipher, but it fills you with a strange sensation, like, for the first time in a long time, you're not alone in the storm raging inside you.

"Your mind is betraying you," Silco says calmly, his voice soft but full of an authority that makes you feel that everything happening has a purpose. "It's an enemy that everyone must face at some point. But you don't have to face it alone."

The words fall on you like a stone, but strangely, they allow you to relax, even if only for a moment. The internal chaos you've always felt halts for an instant. And in that silence, you're finally able to breathe.

"All of this... this emptiness, the feeling that nothing matters, it's not your fault," Silco continues, his tone firm, though not without a strange gentleness. "It's just a phase, a moment that will pass. But you need to control it. Not let it take over you."

You feel vulnerable, but at the same time, a part of you relaxes in his closeness. Silco doesn't tell you that it's okay, nor does he promise easy solutions. He speaks to you with reality, with that harshness that you know comes from someone who understands suffering, but who doesn't have time to sugarcoat the truth.

"What you're feeling is real, but it's also transient. Not everything is as final as you think," he adds, his gaze fixed on yours with intensity. "You can be stronger than this."

The words resonate in your mind as you take a deep breath. You don't know if you fully believe them, but for some reason, in this moment, the darkness feels less imposing. You're not completely free of it, but at least you feel you're not entirely alone. Silco is here, firm and without judgment, waiting for you to take control of your own mind, without expecting you to do it immediately, but giving you the possibility to believe that you'll manage.

The pressure in your chest doesn't disappear completely, but a small crack of calm starts to open within you. And though you know your inner struggles won't end immediately, for the first time in a long while, you don't feel as lost. Silco looks at you one last time, without haste, but with a silent certainty.

"When you're ready, you can get out of this. I'll be here."

You're surprised by how firm his voice sounds, as if, by saying it, he's committed to being a constant presence. And although you don't fully understand how he does it, you realize that, in this moment, his steadiness helps you more than any empty words of comfort.

The world continues around you, but somehow, Silco has given you the strength to face it.

The silence between you and Silco lingers for a moment, but it's no longer the same silence as before. There's a strange peace, almost comforting, in the way he holds you, in the closeness you now feel between you both. The contact of his hand, firm and steady, gives you an anchor amidst the storm that still rages inside you.

A sigh escapes your lips without you noticing, and for a moment, it's not one of despair, but of relief. Silco, still keeping his gaze fixed on you, takes one more step closer. It's not a quick or rushed step, but a calculated one, as if he's sure that, in this moment, the only thing you need is that closeness, that calm presence.

Without saying anything, his fingers gently caress your cheek, a soft gesture that cuts through you. There's a tenderness in his movements that you hadn't anticipated, something that seems in complete contradiction with the person you know, but that, in this moment, comforts you more than any words. You feel vulnerable, but you don't fear it, not now.

Your breathing gradually calms, and Silco, silently, moves a little closer, so close that you can feel the warmth of his body. The space between you is almost nonexistent now, and you can feel his breath in rhythm with yours. There's something in his presence that soothes you, that gives you the feeling that everything will be okay, even though it still feels hard to believe.

Finally, his lips come close to yours with an unexpected softness. It's not a hasty or desperate kiss, but something slower, more measured. The brush of his lips against yours is so gentle that it surprises you, as if he's waiting for you to accept it, for you to be ready. And you are. Though your mind is still filled with doubts and fears, something inside you tells you that this is the moment you can allow yourself to be vulnerable, that you can receive something that won't hurt you.

The kiss deepens slowly, and in that instant, the world seems to fade away around you. All that remains is the warmth of his body, the firmness of his arms around you, and the gentle contact of his lips, like a silent promise that, even though the future is uncertain, for a moment, everything is alright.

When you finally pull away, no words are needed. Silco looks at you with an intensity you've never seen before, but in his eyes, there's something more, something you can't describe, something that makes you feel that, despite everything you've been through, you're not alone.

"I told you you were strong," he whispers, his voice deep and soft at the same time.

And for a moment, everything seems enough.

Mel Chronic Stress Disorder

The atmosphere is thick with tension, but it's a different kind of tension. It's a quiet calm, yet at the same time, it is filled with the constant threat of what could happen. You’re there, in one of the rooms of the mansion, sitting on a chair by the window, gazing out at the illuminated city, but unable to really see anything. The world around you seems to blur, as if a layer of fog has settled over your senses, blurring every detail and leaving only the emptiness of your thoughts.

Mel, who has been watching your behavior for the past few minutes, approaches with a palpable gentleness in her movements. Her presence is firm, but not intrusive. From a distance, she’s observed how the symptoms of your chronic stress have taken over you, how anxiety and mental exhaustion have combined to make you feel beyond your limits.

She crouches slightly to be at your level, her eyes fixed on yours, searching for your attention. “I notice you’re not yourself, and I know it’s because the weight of everything has piled up,” she says in a low voice, her tone soft yet firm. “But I want you to listen. You have the right to rest. You don’t have to carry the world, not all the time.”

Despite her words, you feel a pressure in your chest that won’t ease. Everything feels too big, too heavy. Chronic stress consumes you, leaving your thoughts tangled while your body responds with a deep exhaustion that doesn’t seem to go away no matter what you do.

Mel, noticing the internal struggle that consumes you, steps closer and, without warning, places a firm hand on your shoulder. It’s not a gesture of force, but of support. A sign that she’s here, silently, but available to help you find the balance you need.

“Your body is telling you it needs to stop,” she continues, with a softness that’s hard to deny. “Those moments of despair, of exhaustion... they’re real. But you don’t have to go through it alone, no matter how much you think you can.”

The contact of her hand on you, her quiet strength, begins to offer some relief. Even though the weight still lingers, something in you relaxes. It’s as if her words offer you a rope to hold onto, something tangible in the fog that seems to surround your mind.

You lean forward, your fingers briefly touching your forehead as you try to calm the agitation still coursing through you. The stress, that constant pressure in your life, seems unwilling to let go of you, but at least in this moment, with Mel by your side, you can breathe a little more deeply.

“I’ll be here,” Mel whispers, like an unbreakable promise. “If you need to rest, I’ll help you find peace. You don’t have to go on alone.”

For the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to think that, maybe, it’s possible to let go of some of that burden. Mel’s voice, soft yet full of certainty, is a refuge in the midst of the chaos in your mind.

Mel doesn’t expect you to feel guilty for your exhaustion. She doesn’t demand that you change or “overcome” your chronic stress overnight. She only gives you space to feel what you need to feel and to acknowledge that, even though the road may be long, you don’t have to walk it alone.

When your eyes lift and meet hers, there’s something in your gaze that softens. The stress doesn’t vanish immediately, but the simple fact that someone understands you, that someone is staying with you without judging, gives you something you didn’t have before: the possibility of healing.

The silence between you both is comfortable. It’s a silence of acceptance and understanding. And as Mel remains by your side, her presence becomes something that offers comfort, not an immediate solution, but a step toward the calm you so desperately need.

After a long silence, Mel slowly approaches you, and her eyes, filled with softness and understanding, capture you. She takes your hand, with a delicacy that makes you feel lighter, as if the weight of your mind could lessen just with that contact.

“You know, right?” she whispers, her voice gentle but firm. “I’ve seen you fight, and still, you’re here, being so incredible. And to me, that’s what really matters. Not everything you’ve been through, but who you are now.”

The sparkle in her eyes makes you blush slightly, and your heart beats a little faster.

“Mel...” you whisper, barely able to find the words, feeling your nerves breaking. “I don’t know what I’d do without you…”

She smiles, moving closer. “I’m here, for whatever you need, for anything, always.”

Without saying another word, Mel gently caresses your cheek, as if every movement is a silent promise. Then, you see her lean in toward you, her face so close to yours that you can feel the brush of her breath.

“You’re my refuge, you know that, right?” Mel says, with sincerity that runs deep within you.

And without another word, her lips find yours, in a tender, almost urgent kiss, as if she wanted to convey everything she couldn’t with words. When she pulls away, her eyes shine with an unmistakable softness.

“I love you, with all my being. And that won’t change.”

You shiver slightly at her words, but instead of insecurity, you find comfort. Her eyes transmit calm to you, and for the first time, you realize that she’s willing to be the peace you so need.

Sevika Bipolar Disorder

The darkness surrounds you, but it’s not physical darkness; it’s something denser, creeping through every corner of your mind. It’s one of those days. You don’t know for sure, but you feel it deep in your gut: something has changed. There’s a void in your chest that you don’t know how to fill, and a sensation in your stomach that twists you up. You’ve been through this before. The bipolar disorder drags you, takes you as its own without warning, pushing you from one extreme to the other in a matter of hours, minutes.

You wake up feeling the weight of sadness, a sadness that feels physical, sinking you into the mattress as if the sheets were lead. You don’t want to move, think, or do anything. You just feel empty, as if all your strength has evaporated. The room seems smaller, the walls pressing in on you. Your legs don’t respond when you try to get up. A knot forms in your throat, but the tears won’t come. There’s no energy for that, just the weight of despair.

You don’t see her enter. Her presence is silent, but solid. Sevika knows something is wrong, she feels it even before you tell her. When you look at her, her expression doesn’t change, but there’s something in her eyes that makes you feel that the situation is serious. There’s no surprise, no fear, just a cold, calculating understanding. Sevika isn’t one to lose her calm easily. And that makes you even more confused, making you feel like you don’t belong in that moment, like you’re not the person she expects to see.

“What’s going on?” she asks, not softening anything. The question isn’t condescending, nor filled with concern. It’s direct, almost harsh, she doesn’t beat around the bush. She knows that, when you’re like this, empty words don’t help.

You struggle to form a response. You can’t, really. Your thoughts are tangled in an incomprehensible chaos. But she doesn’t expect you to explain anything. Sevika approaches, sits on the edge of the bed. Her gaze never leaves you, as if she’s evaluating your soul, searching for a point of vulnerability, a sign of what to do next. She has the ability to see beyond your emotions, beyond the depression that consumes you and the anxiety that makes you tremble. She knows that right now there’s nothing rational in your mind, but understanding is her only response. Patience mixes with a slight touch of toughness, as she always does with things she can’t control.

“You’re staying here. You’re not going to do anything impulsive. You’re not going to try to run out of here or make this worse,” she says with a calm coldness that leaves no room for objection. You know that, in this moment, she’s the only voice of reason you can hear.

You’re aware that Sevika is used to dealing with extreme situations, but this one is different. She watches you closely, but from a distance, as if she’s weighing the damage, calculating what she can do to keep you safe. You don’t see fear in her, but you see resolve. She doesn’t switch into “rescuer mode,” she doesn’t try to hug you or tell you that everything will be fine. What she says, she says with authority because she knows that if she gives in, chaos will take control, and everything she’s worked to keep stable will fall apart.

In the internal struggle between your broken mind and the anger that begins to build up inside of you, Sevika is the rock that keeps you from diving into the void. But she also knows she can’t ignore your emotions. Her expression hardens slightly when she realizes there’s something more going on. “I’m telling you this because you know it, not because I need to explain it to you,” she whispers, making it clear that there’s no room for games.

When you finally speak, it’s in whispers, as if your words have weight and could break you. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m... I’m so tired of this constant back and forth. I can’t handle it.”

Sevika doesn’t change her posture. She doesn’t tell you that she’s going to “fix” you, nor does she try to cure you. She knows that what you have doesn’t have an easy fix, but she does have tools to deal with the situation. “You don’t need to fix anything right now. You need to rest. Let what’s going to happen, happen, but don’t make decisions you’ll regret later. Do you understand me?” her voice is firm, but underneath there’s something else, a touch of softness she rarely shows.

The air in the room is heavy, laden with the weight of your thoughts, like a fog that prevents you from seeing beyond. Sevika is there, watching you with the same intensity as always, but with an odd calm, a calm that scares you because it makes you feel like she sees it all: the chaos consuming you, the internal battle between despair and rage.

“I don’t want this to control me. I don’t want to be like this,” you murmur, the words coming out broken. You know you’re saying it more to yourself than to her, but still, the guilt pierces your chest like invisible needles. You feel like you’re not being who she expects.

Sevika stays silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on you. There’s something in her face, a line of tension in her jaw, as if she’s weighing every word before speaking. Finally, she gets a little closer, breaking the distance between your bodies.

“It’s not about what you expect from yourself. It’s about what you need right now. And what you need right now is rest, stop fighting against something you can’t control.”

Your eyes search hers, those eyes that always seem to understand more than you can verbalize. And, somehow, you feel that there’s no judgment in them, just a silent acceptance of what you’re going through. It’s strange. In the middle of the storm in your mind, Sevika gives you the feeling of being the only anchor left in your world.

Suddenly, she stretches out a hand toward you, not rushing, not in a hurry, but with the firmness that characterizes her. You take it without thinking, as if it’s the only thing that can stop the flood of erratic thoughts flooding your mind. Her touch is warm, comforting. There’s a strength in that simple gesture, something that allows you to relax, even if just for a second.

“I’m going to take care of you, understand?” she whispers, her voice low, barely a breath. There are no empty promises in her words, just a statement of fact. But in her tone, you find a softness that she rarely shows. It’s like, for a brief moment, her heart opens a little more, even if she doesn’t fully recognize it.

The moment stretches on, and even though the storm in your mind hasn’t ceased, there’s something in you that feels a little lighter. Sevika doesn’t have the solution to your pain, but her presence, her closeness, gives you a peace you never even imagined.

Without thinking, you move a little closer to her, seeking that warmth. Her fingers interlace with yours, and for the first time all day, you don’t feel completely broken. Sevika has never promised you a happy ending, but in this moment, you don’t need one. The simple fact of being here, of having her close, gives you a reason to keep going, even if just for a little while longer.

“I love you,” you say without thinking, and the words come out with a clarity that surprises you. It’s not a grand declaration, it’s not a promise that everything will be okay, but it’s something real, something you never thought you could say to anyone before.

“I love you too, doll,” she responds with a half-smile, though her eyes seem softer than ever. And, for a second, the world seems to stop. The anxiety, the disorder in your head, dissipate, if only for a brief moment.

She leans in a little toward you, and in that instant, all that matters is the touch of her lips on your forehead, a simple gesture but filled with affection. The silence between you both is comfortable, no pressure, just the comfort of being together, knowing that, even if the world around you falls apart, Sevika will be the one to keep you steady.

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