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stay with me, please | pt.2

warnings: mentions of SELF-HARM, talks about attempting SUICIDE, depression, language, angst, heartbreak

a/n: please do NOT read this if you are sensitive on the topics in listed above. I do not support the topics. if you feel alone, call the suicide prevention hotline: 1-800-273-8255. please remember that you are loved, and when times get tough, it’s just a rough patch in your life, but it’ll be over with soon. look on the bright side of things. treat yourself with love and care. i love you all ♡

*i personally have never had an experience on this topic, but a very close friend of mine has, she took therapy and is better than ever now. feel free to talk to me by clicking ‘ask me anything.’ i myself have suffered from depression. i tried to cut myself and was only able to cut my fingertip. i have a habit of not eating a lot of food and trying to stay quiet, not to attract attention to myself. nobody knows about it, not even my family or close friends. sometimes i feel alone in this world, but then i remember that there are people out there that love me. it’s hard, i know, but stay strong, my lovelies, i know it’ll get better. i will make a post just on this because i’ve typed too much of this on my lil’ fic here, which have more parts to come, so enjoy!*

masterlist

pt.1 | pt. 2

You awoke to the bright lights shining in your eyes. You tried to lift your arm to cover your eyes, but it didn’t work.

“Y/N! You’re awake!” Tom’s sounded tired.

You tried your hardest to turn your head to face him, but it didn’t work.

“Woah! Slow down, you haven’t healed yet. You’re still too weak. You’ll feel like you’re paralyzed only for an hour, so don’t worry. Here, let me help you.” His soft hands gently turn your head to face him.

He looks so tired like he hasn’t gotten any sleep. The dark under eye bags proving that he didn’t get any sleep. Tom was slouched over, gripping onto the hospital bed for support.

“Tom,” You were able to croak out, “Go sit down, you’re too weak. It’s okay.” He nodded his head and unsteadily walks back to the chair.

“Why?” Tom asked, sadness washing over his dull eyes.

“What?” You were confused.

“Why would you try to k-,” He struggled to get the word out. It was too painful to think about your limp body lying on the white tiled floor of the bathroom.

“Kill yourself,” He finally got it out. Tears started to fill his eyes.

I made him cry. I’m an idiot. I deserved to die. Why’d he have to save me? I’m just a waste of time.

“Please don’t cry, especially over me. I’m a waste of time, of effort.” You said quietly.

“No, you’re not! You aren’t a waste of time or effort! I love you! So fucking much as well! You don’t know how many people love you! Did you ever think about how the people around you would feel?! How I’d-,” He yelled, but you cut him off.

“You’re wasting your time yelling at me. Like I said if I had died, no one would have noticed and I would’ve been better off. You wouldn’t have to be here, wasting your breath. Look, Tom. You need to move on, to find someone better, like Zendaya. She’s so much better for you. It’s healthier for you to leave me,” You gave up on trying to speak loudly. Your voice was only a little over a whisper.

“No! You don’t get to choose what’s right for me! I love you, Y/N! You can’t just throw me away because you think you aren’t worth it! So listen up, I love you, and I won’t be leaving you anytime soon!” He demanded.

“If you won’t leave me, then I’ll have to leave you.” You sighed, trying your hardest to shake your head.

“No-,” you cut him off, “Tom, you can’t keep following after me, picking up all of my mishaps. You have to move on. I love you, and you mean the world to me, but it’s time that I go. So please, let go, I beg of you.” Tom’s eyes started to water, and his lips started to quiver.

Dammit, you made him cry, again.

“Please go, Thomas,” hearing you say his real name shocked him. He didn’t know what to do. You never said his real name, only Tommy, Tommo, Tom, and other nicknames.

“N-No, I can’t. I can’t,” he fell to his knees and started sobbing.

The tears rolled down his face rapidly as he kneeled there. His hands clenched into fists, continuously pounding the hospital floors.

The sound must’ve been heard by the doctor because the next thing you knew, they were standing at the door. They saw what was causing the noise, and you sympathetically looked over to the doctor, as if you were asking them to escort Tom out of the building. They nodded and continued onto their job. Somehow, the doctors were able to convince Tom to get up and exit your room.

You silently cried as you watched Tom get escorted out. You loved him. It was painful to let go of him, but you knew it was for the best. You couldn’t keep dragging him into your messes. Zendaya or any other girl would be better for him. You just hoped he would move on, and forget about you, completely.

“I love you, Tom,” you cried to yourself.

Tom couldn’t leave you. He stayed in the hospital waiting room, pacing back and forth. As the sunset, and more people started to leave, he sat down, sobbing his heart out.

Once Tom had calmed down, he walked back to your room, watching you sleep. You seemed so peaceful. He placed a hand on the glass, staring at you sympathetically.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ll do anything for you. Just please, please, live. Don’t try to go again. I’ll always be waiting for you, my love. Love, Tom.” He wrote on a sticky note, placing it right beside you on your tray.

The tears slipped down his face as he kissed your forehead, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time. He slowly walked out, relapsing all of the wonderful memories he shared with you.

Tom knew you guys were forever.

As the sun peaked through the hospital window, you were awoken by your doctor. They informed you that you could leave the hospital the next day. You were able to move on your own, now.

“Ms. L/N, you have a note,” your doctor handed you the small sticky note and left the room.

Puzzled, you read the note.

“Love, Tom.” It read.

Tears started to flood your eyes.

He finally left.

A wave of desperation and contentment washed over you. He could finally grow and thrive without something to stop him, but you would never get to feel his lips on yours anymore, or the way he’d hold you when you were afraid.

He’s gone.

bilateral contracts

❧ synopsis: a relationship turned contract... or has the relationship always been a contract? no longer does it matter, just kiss and make break up

❧ pairing: koh!tom x fem!reader

❧ genre: semi-angst, suggestive

❧ warnings: break up, mentions of hickies, make-out session with a bit of escalation, plot twist (?)

❧ a/n: if you get it, you get it. also this came out shorter than i expected, but i liked how it turned out so i didn’t want to change anything lmao. listen to kiss and make up when reading this <3

masterlist                     prompt list                     add yourself on my taglist!

It started with the thundering echos in the room then ended with the inaudibly loud sound of hearts shattering. 

Now, you were resting on a cool, marble bench, breathing in the fresh, must-filled air. The chilled material of the seat ran a shiver down your seat, causing the heat from your anger to depress. 

Lately, you and Tom weren’t getting along as you used to. Constantly, you were being reminded—by Tom—that you knew what you had “signed up for” when you began dating him, ever the cliche. Had you known that you were dating via contract, you would’ve never accepted the offer; you would’ve rejected the offer whole-heartedly, as it is known, contracts can’t—and don’t—last forever.

Tom, on the other hand, went back to hoarding himself with work and planning out large events—usually for his own enjoyment. Being the king, after all, meant luxury and bliss, albeit the load of work and duty. 

Maybe the great lord feared by all was being selfish; maybe the young maiden who put her heart out on the line for said lord was insecure. It all narrowed down to a “maybe.” One thing that was certain, though, was the maiden’s love for herself.

Contracts aren’t unbreakable. They can be discussed and terminated. Besides, even if you “break” the contract now, you technically wouldn’t be the first.

With fast steps, you composed yourself, preparing for the risk you were about to take. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but you also knew it was plausible. Your pride and self-love wouldn’t back down just by a simple glare or bark. 

Pushing the doors open, you stepped into the room, head high and shoulders wide. It felt as if the atmosphere had some confidence booster hidden in the air. Tom was already staring at you with peculiar eyes, silently asking you what you were doing.

You were tired of talking, letting useless words slip from your lips. You no longer wanted to hear any feeble “sorry’s” from either him or you.

Thus, without any words, you stomped over to his desk, pulling him by his collar and smashing your lips against his. You could feel him stiffen in your grasp, shocked at the sudden action and its roughness.

Pushing him back onto the desk, you looked him into his chocolate-brown eyes. Your hand laid flat on his chest, fingers skillfully unbuttoning his dress shirt. You attached your lips to his bare neck, sucking dark marks filled with ill-intents onto to supple skin. You could feel the brunette begin to relax under your touch, allowing you to continue. 

His hands touched you in such a familiar yet foreign way, touching you like he’s touched nobody. The soft pads of his fingertips trailed, bruised, and gripped onto every centimeter of your perfect body as if he’s been starved of touch for decades.

It was as if both of you could see and feel what was coming.

Pulling away, you slipped your clothes back on, leaving Tom tousled where he rest. A haze in his eyes told you that he was out of his body, floating in the clouds. Using his dazed moment to your advantage, you declared, “I’m breaking up with you.”

Before he could collect himself to think straight, you’ve already escorted yourself out of the room, leaving his door wide open to give him a show of you with your bags and luggage—walking away with a light sway of your hips—your figure dissolving into nothingness as you gained more distance. 

Tom didn’t chase after you like a dog on a leash. He let you leave without reluctance or doubt. After all, why would he? Everything had worked out in his favor.

The contract is now terminated ended.

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