#since my 19th I’ve really hated my birthday it’s like I get even more disappointed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

genevievemd · 2 years

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Like the Leaves

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Genevieve McClure), F!MC (Genevieve McClure) x M!OC (Ryan Ozwell) Word Count: Rating: T Category: angsty fluff Trope(s): and they’re with someone else (sorta - in the past), and there’s a birthday

Summary: Gen discovers that not everything is like it used to be.

Warnings: language

A/N: For the longest time, I’ve wanted to do a fic where we see G with Ryan and then with Ethan in a similar situation and see the difference and now here we are. I felt like today, Gen’s birthday, was a great day to do it lol

Submitting this to @choicesficwriterscreations for Naughty and Nice (prompt in bold) and @choicesmonthlychallenge for Picktober (flufftober - forehead kisses and falltober - pumpkin)

October 14, 2011

Autumn had finally descended on Pennsylvania. The trees on Genevieve’s college campus had slowly begun to change into various, and beautiful, shades of red and orange. Though, the beauty of fall at UPenn was nothing compared to her hometown in Maine.

She’s been hoping to be able to go home for a long weekend for her birthday tomorrow, but with the workload of her second year of undergrad, it would be impossible. But maybe, she could bring a taste of home to Philly for her 19th birthday and convince her boyfriend of almost a year to go apple picking with her. They could even get pumpkins to carve and have the full seasonal experience, with the man she was almost certain she loved.

Genevieve walks across the courtyard towards Ryan’s apartment, textbooks and outfit change in hand, knocking on his front door a few minutes later.

“You’re late.” He opens the door without hesitation, walking away without another glance in her direction.

Gen quickly follows him into the apartment, dropping her things onto the kitchen table. “I know, sorry. My class ran over. Well, technically it didn’t, I just stayed behind to ask my professor about the —“

“Yeah, I don’t really care, Velvet. Go make yourself decent for the party.”

“I told you, I don’t like that nickname.”

“And I told you, that I don’t care, I’ll call you whatever the hell I please.” Ryan smirks, kissing her cheek before slapping her backside, with more force than she likes. “Now, go get ready. Don’t make me ask again.”

“Okay.” She nods sheepishly, walking into the bedroom to change.

She hates going to parties with his friends, they were crass and always drank too much. Treating her more like a maid or waitress rather than Ryan’s girlfriend. She sucks it up and goes, mostly to avoid a fight with him and always with the hope that he’ll do something like that for her. Though record shows he probably won’t. But that won’t stop her from hoping, praying and doing whatever she can to try and get what she gives in return.

“So, you know how my birthday is on tomorrow?” Gen calls out as she finishes putting on her dress, zipping up the side and checking herself in the mirror.

“What about it?”

“I was wondering if you’d go apple picking with me? Or maybe we can get pumpkins to carve? I used to at home every year and since I can’t go back to Portland this weekend, I thought —“

“Are you serious?” Ryan enters the room, eyebrow raised in disbelief as he leans against the doorframe. “Are you five?”

“What do you mean?”

“Grow up, Velvet. That shit’s not cute, or fun for a grown ass adult. I’ll take you to dinner if I don’t have plans, but there ain’t no way in hell that I’m taking you to and wasting my Saturday at a fucking apple orchard.”

“Oh,” She does her best to hide the disappointment on her face as she finishes doing her makeup. The way her stomach twists at his words. “Is it really that childish? I see couples that do it for dates on pictagram all the time. I just thought…”

“Pictagram isn’t the real world. Gotta step outta that fantasyland you keep getting stuck in. Grown men, with any ounce of self respect, don’t do that shit. Now, get your ass ready so you don’t make us late like always.”

“Forget I said anything.”

Ryan laughs, turning towards the living room, “I wouldn’t have to if you keep those stupid thoughts to yourself, honey.”

“Yeah.” Gen looks back at her reflection, wondering the thousandth time why she ever bothers to speak or think.

Things are always better when she doesn’t, and it’s not as if she ever comes up with anything worthwhile — at least that’s what Ryan says and he's usually right.

9 years later, October 15, 2020…

Ethan opens the door to his luxury apartment, stepping to the side to let Genevieve in before following close behind her.

As far as birthdays go, this one has been a top favorite. Ethan surprised her with dinner at a diner that served poutine that could rival her beloved grandfather’s recipe and then an escape room with a Hocus Pocus theme. Not to mention the bouquet of her favorite flowers that he’d given her before they left the hospital.

It was more than any boyfriend had done for her birthday in a very long time, and made her all the more thankful to have someone as thoughtful as Ethan.

“Do you want a drink? I may have gone against my better judgement and bought you a bottle of rosé.” Ethan guides her into the kitchen, a gentle hand resting on the small of her back.

“Did you really?” Gen sits at the kitchen island, watching as Ethan moves towards the fridge.

“Of course. Anything for you, G.” He smiles wide, closing the refrigerator door and moving to the liquor cabinet to grab them two wine glasses.

“Is that why you agreed to dress up as the Prince Charming to Cinderella for my party on Saturday?”

“Absolutely.” He hands her the wine glass, his playful smile melting into something softer as he raises his own glass. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thank you.” Gen clinks her glass against his before taking a sip, blushing slightly when he doesn't take his eyes off her.

“So, aside from this costume party, is there anything else you want to do this weekend?” Ethan grabs her hand, gently leading her to the couch.

Its then she remembers a conversation from years past, with another man – whom she thought she loved – about her birthday. The way he dismissed her and teased her. Demeaned her every thought and desire and couldn’t be bothered to even take her to dinner on a day she so adored.

It was a wonder how she’d gone from that to this. To someone as kind and thoughtful as Ethan, who even knowing her past treats her like a precious jewel, a gift. Someone who indulges every thought she has, no matter how childish or silly it may seem.

“G? What is it?” Ethan’s brows furrow at her silence, head titled with concern. He places his wine glass on the coffee table then reaches for her hand, thumb stroking it gently.

“I… I was just thinking.”

“About?”

Three months had past since she told him about Ryan, since she sobbed on this very couch feeling unworthy and tainted, and she still hesitates. Is still scared that with every detail she shares, Ethan may grow to regret his decision to stay.

But, she knows she has to lean into the trust she’s placed in him, the unspoken love they share and continue to be honest about herself.

“My birthday, nine years ago.” Gen swallows down the rock of anxiety that begins to form in her throat, shifting to place her glass beside his on the table.

“That would have been when you were with that bastard, Ryan Ozwell, correct?”

“Yeah.” Unconsciously, she moves closer to Ethan, looking down at their still joined hands. “I had asked him to do something with me, for my birthday because I couldn’t go back home, and he told me it was stupid. And maybe it is, but I still want to do it.”

“And what’s that exactly?” There’s a patience in his voice, so rare that it forces her eyes up to meet his own.

He’s so different with her than he is with the rest of the world, as if leading with his heart makes him softer, kinder. Offering a version of himself that only the most deserving of souls gets to see.

“He was right, it’s stupid and childish. You’ll probably laugh at me too.”

“Never.” Ethan offers her a smile, letting go of her hand. He pulls her into his lap, letting her settle before gently cupping her cheeks in his warms hands. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, myself included, you’re safe with me. Whatever it is just tell me, I highly doubt that it’s as juvenile as he had claimed it to be.”

“Okay,” Genevieve nods, resting a hand against his heart. “I want to go apple picking, and then get pumpkins and carve them.”

“That,” He blinks rapidly, letting go of her face. “That’s what you want? That’s what he said was childish?”

“Yeah. You agree, don’t you?”

“Rookie, the day I agree with anything that man has ever said or done to you is the day the world ends. He has the cognitive abilities of a rock.”

“So, you’ll do it? We can have an apple orchard date?”

“Of course, I haven’t gone since I was a kid, I think it will be fun. Actually, I’ll even add to your desires and when we get home after we can turn the apples into a pie, roast the pumpkin seeds and watch our favorite Halloween movies.”

“Ethan…” Despite herself, she can feel her chest warm with hope, the tiny ember getting larger with every word said. Feel her eyes well with tears of joy and surprise.

Everyday, he proves all her worst fears wrong, shows her that every thought her ex had placed in her head was wrong. That, just like the leaves of Ethan’s favorite season, things change and become even more beautiful than they were before.

He was turning her once dull and grey world into a kaleidoscope of bright reds and sunny yellows, and hopefully she’s doing the same for him.

“Thank you.” Her words are no more than a whisper, too overwhelmed to utter them any louder than that.

Ethan pulls her impossibly closer, arms wrapped tightly around her small frame, kissing her forehead gingerly before his own against it. “Always, G.”

A/N: And then they go the day after her party and have the best time. Look at our girl, having all her dreams come true. You love to see it.

tagging separately

#ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #open heart #open heart fanfiction #ethan x gen #cfwc naughty & nice

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foryoureyesdear · 10 months

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June 19th, 2023

For your eyes only,

I am currently sitting in the Centurion Lounge at Charlotte, NC Airport. I just spent fathers day weekend with my Grandpa, Grandma, and Dad. It’s my mom’s birthday and I’m flying back to NY to spend time with her and my brother.

What a lovely weekend it was. Funny story, I flew into the wrong airport initially. I had to take an uber to a bus to a train, just to finally get within my grandparents reach to pick me up and bring me to their newly built home.I love their new home, not as much as I love their previous home in the Pocono of course. That house was everything. The smell, the homeiness, the clutter, the SIZE, the fun, the memories. We even had our hands imprinted into the walls of the house. How could I not mis it? It’s such a huge part of my youth.

I wish I made more of an effort to go ee the house in it’s last days. Or I at least wish I knew the last time I was there, would actually be, the last time I was there.

Anyways I love their new house, It feels just like the one from my childhood, jut more intimate and less hectic.

The first day I got in we just had wine and Cava for dinner and watched guess who’s coming to dinner. I loved it. Not the movie, but watching the movie with my grandparents and seeing how much they enjoyed it.

The second day, I got some work done, and then went to lounge by the pool with my grandma. Tan a bit, gossip a bit. Me and grandma always gossip, It’s a new thing we’ve developed since becoming not necessarily closer, but just honest and blunt with each other. We’ve kind of dropped the PC family bullshit between each other. It’s a nice feeling. It’s a recent development,

After the movie and 6 glasses of wine later me and grandma stayed up late talking about family drama while grandpa went to bed. We both shared how important we thought it was that my dad and my grandad connect this weekend, considering the fact that they have not even each other in 4+ years. It was nice to be open with someone about this topic. Especially someone who spends everyday with my grandpa. It was refreshing to hear her perspective. She shared more of her life story. I shared some of mine. I told her I was proud to be her granddaughter, and I admired how much her and my grandpa have overcome in their lives. She shared how similar she thought my dad and grandpa are with heir parenting habits. I agreed.

At the end of the convo we both thanked each other for being o open and honest. She said something that really touched my heart. She said “thank you for that conversation and opening up, It makes me feel included, and I’ve never felt that completely in this family.” We hugged and said goodnight and I slept like a baby.

Third day we went to a spa, got a massage, had some thai food. A pretty chill day.

I got in an argument with Josh, and that took up the remainder of my evening. In summary he had a huge night with his photography. Shooting one of his favorite artists. When he tried to tell me about it the next day I tried to speak positivity into his future in photography and he rejected it. We talked it out later, he explained how that’s his way of protecting himself from disappointment and I expressed how I speak life into situations because It’s the way I was raied, even if it is anxiety inducing. I love him. We have our arguments like any other couple, but out arguments are so passionate. They have love, confusion, hurt, curiosity, and worry behind them. Not a sliver of hate, anger, or vindictiveness.

The fourth day my dad came. I love seeing my dad. I don’t see him often these days. At first I was a bit frustrated with him. He was doing that thing where it seems like he’s only spending time with everyone, to tell others around him that he spends time with his family. Once I let go of that feeling and really looked at him, I could see a man who was exhausted, who made an effort to his family after non stop travel for work. A man so imperfect but makes and effort, In his own little fucked up way. I love my dad. As angry as I am with him for the past, I love him for the man that he tried to be. And the man that he still has the potential to be? I don’t know. But I cry like a baby after every time I see him recently. Hurt tears, but loving ones.

I asked my grand dad to have a talk with my dad. A heart to heart. He said he would. Idk if he ended up doing it. But, I’m happy I made the effort to heal wounds between them. I t may help heal the wounds between me and my dad? Who knows.

We had Lobster and steak for fathers day. I baked a blueberry pie. It was okay to me, but everyone said they love it, so it was a success to me. We spent some time chatting reminiscing.

Then we watched stand up comics. Such a Law family thing to do. We watched Katt Williams, Earthquake, and finished off with Richard Pryor. Such a good time and a good laugh.

Which brings us to the present. Today. I missed my first flight to NY and I’m waiting for my next. Hopefully my mom’s birthday goes well and he’s not too upset that I’m late.

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bittermuire · 3 years

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a nightlight and a bottle of wine

recently I’ve really loved nezriel and wanted to write a lil thing for them. this will be two parts, this is the first. modern au

---

It’s not like Nesta really knew what she was doing when she moved out. All she knows is that there is a rift between her and Feyre; a scar splitting their shared skin, a wound opening and reopening, never to heal.

And so she’s away. They’ve made their mistakes and let them be. They’ve hurt each other and even tried to love, but sisters love each other too much for love—and so she’s away. The guilt is still there, but farther from her, now. Nesta stirs it into her morning coffee and drinks the sleep, wiping it from beneath her eyes and the lines around her mouth.

Every so often Cassian will text her, inviting her out to dinner or to a work party, and Nesta resists the urge to throttle him. He’s a very smart, thirty-five year old man. He should know what cutting off someone means.

(He knows, of course he knows. She guesses he just thinks it doesn’t apply to him.)

His roguish charm, his smirk, his low voice, all inviting her to one thing—sex—was beginning to exhaust her. It’s a surprising relief to be away from him. She feels like she can wear tank tops and let her hair down and go out without a bra, relieved he won’t be there to stare.

(Was she really so afraid of him?)

So Nesta lives her life and drinks her coffee, wears her tank tops and sleeps in her underwear, finally a woman in the way she’s always wanted to be; she feels discrete from the rest of the world but in a near comforting way. She has no one to disappoint, no one to miss. Her world is confined to very few people and her mind allows for one.

•

But there are things that trip her up. Remaining ties.

One such: the nightlight clipped to her bed. It’s cheap, a gaudy silver. She’s sure Azriel bought it for no more than two dollars.

But she uses it every night.

(This trips her up.)

It’s a routine she’s given to herself, written into the margins of her life; she climbs into bed, smooths the blankets over her legs, grabs her book, opens it on her lap, then twists and switches on the light. It illuminates the page with a pretty, golden sun. She uses it religiously. She thinks that if she lost it, some intrinsic part of her might be lost as well, and this frightens her.

Remaining ties should be snipped. These last threads should be spooled up, put away, hidden in the bottom drawer.

She switches it on anyway, watches the light trace the letters.

(Sometimes she thinks she is the black stamp of letters. The utter bleakness of them on the smooth page. Sometimes she thinks she is what ruins the paper. She is what ruined the paper. There’s a reason she is here and they are there.)

•

November 19th.

Happy birthday to me.

She buys a cake from the supermarket and blows out the candle.

There’s a knock at the door, late at night. Not thinking to check, she goes to open it, and there stands Azriel, still in the doorway, bottle of wine in hand.

“Happy birthday,” he says bluntly.

She lets him in for some reason she still doesn’t understand, and they end up drinking a glass together. It’s from Cassian, the wine—his favorite. Azriel tells her that Cassian didn’t think she’d take it from him.

“So he asked you,” she says.

He smiles. “Because you like me.”

1:00 AM, and they’re still drinking. They barely talk. They just sit; they sit on the kitchen stools, then the rickety chairs, then the floor, then the couch, then back to the floor. His cheeks are pink, his words slurred.

“Why’d you come?” she asks, peering down at where he lays, splayed out, on the carpet.

(He’s not the kind for favors, she knows that.)

Opening his eyes, he fixes his gaze on her. He smiles sleepily.

“Happy birthday, Nesta.”

•

She doesn’t really celebrate for the holidays. Her apartment is bare, save a pair of twinkling bells on the kitchen counter, tied with a red ribbon. Sometimes when she’s cooking she’ll give them a little ring.

The letter comes in the mail—from Feyre, clearly put there by her own hand. It’s an invitation to dinner, for the winter solstice. They’re celebrating early this year because they’re going out of town for a few weeks.

(Please don’t feel pressured to come. We were going to leave you be but Az, since he’s so considerate, thought you might appreciate an invite.)

Nesta picks up her phone and texts Feyre a simple no thanks.

•

The next morning, she opens her door to a bottle of wine. Its neck is tied with a cherry red ribbon, and there’s a note—“If you’re ever lonely, give me a call. It’s my favorite.”

She doesn’t need to see who it’s from to know.

She smiles and picks it up, taking it inside.

•

It bites, the loneliness.

She wasn’t prepared for the quiet.

She traded in insults and jabs and sweaty hands at dinner tables for nothing, nothing, nothing. Silence in the shower, silence over breakfast. Over time, it’s begun to grate on her skin, sift between the strands of her hair, and she feels like she’s swimming a meter below the surface, ears clogged, vision blurred.

And slowly, she’s started to cry; she cries when the silence is too loud, when her aloneness is real, when she realizes the ugly truth of it all. She’s alone, she has nobody, she’s alone.

She picks up her phone and dials his number. “Let’s drink your wine.”

A small quiet. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“I know, Nesta,” he laughs. “I’ll be there.”

•

They don’t drink at all, actually. She starts crying again the minute she sees his face.

“Nesta?”

•

“I’m fine, really.”

They’re walking down the aisle of the grocery store, weeks later.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m doing better, I am.”

He shrugs. “I don’t care. Pick a flavor. We’ll eat it, we’ll watch a movie.” He looks her up and down, brow creased. “You need two things—no, make that three things.”

She huffs a laugh, sticking her hand into the freezer and pulling out a carton. “What?”

“Sleep, ice cream, and company.” He grins. “And now you’ve got me.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you.”

•

He’s seen her beautiful; he’s seen her ugly. He’s seen her in her rattiest apron with flour crusted into her fingernails. He’s seen her laugh so hard she cries, watched her slam her head into an open cupboard door, driven her to the hospital when she sliced her hand open with a knife. They’re together a lot, she realizes. They’re not halves; they’re one and one, and one and one make two, and they stand as two together on sidewalks, squinting at menus in the windows of restaurants, and they pet dogs in the park (Nesta always asks, because Az gets shy), and they take walks at midnight, and they live their lives contentedly next to each other’s. She starts to wonder if he splits his life into two—into Cassian and Rhys and Mor and Feyre, and into her, the girl who walked away. She’d like to know why he followed her.

Sometimes she’ll catch herself staring. Even before Cassian, she’d thought Azriel was the most beautiful of the three; all graceful, sloping shadows, soft and deep eyes, curling black hair. Her heart doesn’t know what to do anymore. It skips a beat when she sees him, but calms when she’s near him. It races when he leans close, falls to steadiness when he slings his arm over her shoulders. She can’t decide if she loves him like this or loves him like that. He means so much to her, means so many different things, that to give him a singular word wouldn’t fit.

She calls him Azriel, Az, Steve, Steven Shadow, Mr. Shadow, Ralph, Ron, He of the Candied Pecans, You. He responds to all of it. Recently he told her that it wasn’t because of the name, but because of the voice—(of course I don’t know who Ralph is, Nesta, but your voice, it’s your voice you use for me)—and she felt warm for reasons she couldn’t understand.

She shows up unannounced at his apartment when it’s a bad night. He does the same.

•

“Tell me the truth,” she begins, tipsy. “Did you like me before?”

“What?”

“Did you like me before?”

He frowns. “Elaborate.”

“Before you learned I’m a nice person. Back at the townhouse. When I hated everyone and was rude to you.”

“Oh.” He laughs a little. “I always liked you,” he says, and then his face settles into something like sadness. Nesta watches him closely. “I didn’t like… the way you made me feel, though. I’d see you down the hall, tired and everything, a stick of a person, and Rhys would make some joke, and I’d hate him.”

She blinks.

He looks down. “I’d never hated him before.”

There’s a tension between them. It’s common enough to be recognizable, but not enough to be familiar. She’s on edge, unsure.

The silence seeps in.

“And I hated myself, too,” he says. His eyes flick back up to hers.

Her breath catches in her chest. “I hated myself because I didn’t do anything. So I stayed away.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, overwhelmed. Everything is building; everything is quiet. His eyes are deep and dark and swirling. He shakes his head slightly, leaning closer, slowly, slowly, and she sees it all happen—he takes her face in his hands. She can see the stray strand of hair on his forehead, the one eyelash resting by his nose, the mole right above his mouth.

“I watched you fade,” he breathes. “I watched them pull you around.”

She twines one finger into his hair, trying to bring him closer, trying to have him closer. Come here, Azriel. Come with me. Be with me, love me, because I love you.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, because it’s all she can say.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he murmurs, and kisses her.

•

“Wait,” he says, reaching up.

“What?”

He touches the nightlight. “You kept this?”

She laughs, curled into his side, and says, “Of course I did.” He drops a kiss to her hair. “They all bought me books. You made it easy to read them.”

—-

@acosfisfeysandpropaganda I finally wrote it!!

#nezriel #nesta x azriel #nesta archeron #azriel shadowsinger

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omiscurls · 3 years

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omi doesn’t like flowers

sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader fluff

cw: the reader has a little sibling, i hope nobody minds, there’s one line of very slightly implied nsfw, you won’t even notice

meant for kiyoomi’s birthday! happy b-day to my favorite boy <3

one of the first things you’ve learnt about your boyfriend, even before your relationship started, is that he rarely shared personal information with anyone. he’d go as far as put up a fake birthday on his social media to avoid the awkward wishes and tons of yet another gifts from fans he so didn’t like going through. apart from that, there was a lot of weird things going on with birthdays, in his opinion: for instance people automatically thinking about zodiac sign or assuming other things, insisting to have a party, (a surprise one was his biggest nightmare) and a whole lot of other stuff he found appalling.

so it was just simply easier to say his birthday is “mid november” and get on with his life as if he didn’t just straight up lie. and truth be told, many times had you heard that “oh, in summer” or “right before christmas” before you got to know the truth. it wasn’t that easy on its own, but ever since his first little white lie, you knew he wasn’t true with you, and kept insisting, until he finally pulled you to the side and told you his real date of birth, the one only komori, atsumu, and, as he used to say, “unfortunately” his family knew.

march 20th was the date, and since you wanted to tease him, a grin appeared on your face before you mumbled “so a pisces, huh?” and earned a glare so cold and deadly, you visibly shivered before apologizing.

the next thing you learned about him and his birthday, was that he was picky about gifts. which went well with that “i’m an old fashioned gentleman” facade, because he could just say “oh, you don’t have to buy me anything. your company will be enough” with a slight smile he’d practice for years, and people thought he was just being humble and polite. spoiler alert: he wasn’t. he just didn’t want to deal with his own pickiness, and explaining to people what precisely would he like to get was too much trouble, and took away the magic of it even for someone as blunt as kiyoomi sakusa.

it’s not like birthdays were such a big deal for him, anyway, he didn’t need any gifts or parties to celebrate the fact that he just got one year older. what was so fun about that? but like the pain in the arse you were, you kept asking him what he wanted for the occassion way before he asked you out, and he hated it, but not more than he hated the way his heart jumped at the possibility of getting something you spent your time on.

the first year of your friendship, you got to know the basic thing: omi doesn’t like gifts. gifts make him uncomfortable, he didn’t know what to say, how to act, what to do with it... does he open it right then and there, or wait, but why would he immediately thank someone if he doesn’t even open it? schroedinger’s cat: if he doesn’t open it, it might as well be thin air inside the box.

it was confusing, and weird. you also learnt that it was all caused by the fact that no one was in the house to celebrate young omi’s birthday back in his childhood days, since his parents were working and his siblings long away in college, so he just assumed it was a holiday to be overlooked and not dwelled too much on, and got so used to it, that now it bothered him to be in the center of attention for once.

the third thing you learnt that year: it was almost impossible to find him a good enough gift, at least from your perspective. you spent literal hours at the store, looking at the different things he might’ve wanted, but nothing caught your eye. you called all his friends, yet he hadn’t mentioned the thing he’d like to anyone, not even komori. so you decided you’d go with instinct and remembered one cold morning when he showed up to practice grumpier than usual, and when he was asked what’s wrong, he answered:

“i woke up late and didn’t have time to make coffee”, half mumbling, half actually speaking, eyes too tired to be annoyed, legs slowly sweeping one before another as if he was forced to come here. And that’s where you got your idea.

His first birthday with you, being his 21st, had started terribly, because it was wishes from his family. He’d told you multiple times he’d rather have them forget that send those copied off the internet lines that mean less than a “go fuck yourself”

later on atsumu insisted or telling everyone and it took poor omi more than twenty minutes to convince him not to, and as both the setter and the spiker weren’t in their top moods nor form, MSBY lost a match they had that day. so all he wanted to do march 20th 2017 when he came home was to lay flat on his couch and play with his dog’s fur while watching a crappy TV show. he most definitely didn’t expect you sitting in front of his apartment’s door, tired, almost asleep.

he sighed, approching you and slightly nudging your foot with his, making you shake your head and look up.

“you’re back!” you said with a smile, and he raised an eyebrow.

“and you look like a homeless person” he responded upsentmindedly, avoiding you to reach the door lock. only after you got up did he see a small package you held behind your back. “it’s not a right day to be celebrating me, y/n” he added, opening his apartment’s door and letting you in with a hand gesture. you went inside, not for the first time ever, but every time the feeling was the same, intimidating and cold.

“why do you think that?” you said, taking off your shoes and putting them on a rack, and turning around to see him navigate you to the bathroom. you placed your bag and the gift on the floor before following his steps.

“didn’t you see the match? i fucked up big time” he chuckled ironically, looking at himself in the mirror, and you could witness the disappointment and anger in his eyes.

“so every time you guys win and you get the credit, you say that volleyball is a team sport, but if you loose, suddenly it’s your fault?” you smirked, but to your surprise he nodded.

“precisely”.

“well, regardless, it’s a minor set back. you’re still the best they make” you tried to cheer him up, but only received an eye roll in return. “aaaand, you’re a birthday boy today!”

“don’t remind me” he sighed, walking over to the kitchen to see what he can make for dinner for himself and his uninvited guest, meanwhile you grabbed your gift and walked up right behind him, tapping his shoulder lightly.

“happy 21″ you whispered, a slight, soft smile on your lips, as you handed him the package. he looked at you with a tired look in his eyes.

“you know i’m not the biggest fan of gifts”

“just open it, grumpy face” you whined, and he gently took it from you, placing it on the counter and carefully unwraping it, to see a thermal mug. he sent you a questioning look, before you explained “you were complaining about not having enough time to drink coffee before leaving, right? well now you don’t have to drink it before leaving”

there was silence for a long while before he looked up from the mug and gave you the softest smile you’ve ever seen. “that’s so thoughtful of you” he said, and laughed a tiny bit, probably to cover his emotion, which obviously didn’t work “thank you.”

omi likes thoughtful gestures.

over the second year of your friendship, as he and his career gained more recognition from the public, he was “forced”, as he’d reffer to it, to share such a personal information that is his birthday date. the managers always claimed that it’s not a big deal, that it’s just gonna be added to the oficial page and his wikipedia, but judging from the amount of gifts atsumu, bokuto and hinata always received, he had his reason to doubt that.

and as it turned out, he was right.

because starting from march 10th, his personal mailbox as well as the oficial MSBY’s mailbox has been FLOODED with different things that he really had no energy to go over. and so, he invited one of his best friends to help.

so it was late at night on march 19th, and you were both sitting on the floor of his apartment, a mess of ripped wrapping paper all around you, loads of different stuff laying on the table, as you still had a lot of things to open.

“what even is the point in sending presents to someone you’ve never met? i mean less to them than their neigbour’s dog and yet i’m the one getting gifts? this is messed up” he kept on complaining, opening another package.

“it’s called being famous, sakusa-kun. you mean very much to people you’ve never met, because your journey to where you are now inspires them to keep going on their path until they reach their dreams” you said with a smile, confident it’ll ease his worries, but it didn’t.

“don’t know if i consider being in the Jackals my dream, though”

“you mean, you don’t think being a key player in a division one team is not a dream come true?” you asked, shocked.

“no, no, of course i think it is, i’d never thought i’d reach this far, but, there’s more things to be done, it’s not like i’m an accomplished person just yet”

that, you found interesting.

“really? than what are your dreams, sakusa?” you asked in a low voice, eyes fixed on his face, as he focused on reading a letter in his hands.

“national team” he murmured “MVP, a golden medal, a legacy that goes beyond just me” he opened up as if it was nothing, as if he was talking about his grocery list “but that all wouldn’t mean a thing if i were there alone, though. i’ve received plenty awards and mvp’s over the few years that i played, but i guess what would really matter, and make everything else worth remembering, would be... having someone be proud of me, i guess”

you felt your heart getting soft and fuzzy at the confession, wanting to respond, before he handed you the note he was silently reading.

“this is a poem, y/n, a POEM! what the hell, i don’t even understand what’s going on there” he whined, throwing his head back to rest on the couch seat, as you giggled, reading the note.

“it’s nice” you said in a high-pitched tone, pushing down a laugh.

“it’s too... sophisticated” he uttered, looking at you, a tired look in his eyes. “that’s my mother’s thing, to be sophisticated, i like simpler wishes, they’re easier to believe”

omi doesn’t like fancy words.

you nodded, but before you could say anything, your phone rang, and both of you looked at the screen. the hour on display marked midnight, and as the alarm ranged, the words “omi’s b-day!!!” appeared on the screen. he smiled subconsciously, noticing how you always address him as “sakusa” or “sakusa-kun” but the notif in your phone stated “omi”.

“looks like it’s the 20th already, birthday boy” you grinned, turning off the alarm.

“don’t call me that, what am i, six or something?”

you decided to ignore the comment, and smiled at him warmly before speaking, almost under your own breath:

“happy 22, sakusa. i wish you only to be here to hear me say happy 23 next year. and say so with pride.”

his eyes appeared foggy and glossy, but it was probably fault of poor lighting and tiredness.

“why stop at 23?” he asked, before standing up, and offering you his hand to pick you up, too.

omi likes very real wishes.

over the third year of your friendship you became very close. ever since that night on his living room floor, both of you couldn’t wrap your minds about anything other than each other. neither of you oblivious idiots found out what it was about, but day after day and month after month it was harder and harder to spend time apart.

before he could notice, sakusa always tried to find you in the crowd before serving, and that’s how he always used up most of his time. once, he even heard ushijima complain “how much longer are you going to take? be a man and beat me without your good luck charm!”

his good luck charm, huh?

you kinda liked the sound of that.

you also found yourself texting him every random thought that came to your head, sending pictures of everything, becasue you wanted to share as much of your life as possible, meeting up whenever you could and facetiming whenever you couldn’t.

it all started to go downhill when atsumu, bokuto and hinata started noticing. noticing the way he’d smile at his phone, the way he’d wink, smile, tease, joke, speak, even the way his eyes wondered when left unfocused, and a dreamy look covered his vision.

and they started to tease, and joke, and make his life all more difficult, just because “omi has a crush!”

because he didn’t. right? he didn’t have a crush on you, for sure, and it only annoyed him, how childish they were about it, how insufferable. they got on his nerves so bad that he stopped responding to all the messages, stopped smiling, joking around, and all, just to prove his point,

his point he knew was no longer standing.

and so atsumu would ask, after one of their practices, “hey omi, is your lucky charm picking you up? some birthday dinner, maybe?” he’d nudge his side with an elbow, raising his eyebrows.

“i don’t know” he mumbled “and stop calling them that”. the brunette kept looking for something in his bag, just to avoid atsumu’s tiring, curious glance.

“fine then, how about your significant other?” he continued teasing. it’s not like sakusa would hate that scenario, of course he wouldn’t, yet his mind kept spiraling - what if you came in and heard that? what if you assumed he was calling you that behind your back?

what if you didn’t feel the same?

“stop butting in my relationships for once, miya! how many times am i supposed to tell you i’m not in any way romantically involved with them? i don’t even like them that much!” he lied, straight in his best friend’s face, fed up with all the jokes and smirks behind his back, and judging from atsumu’s shocked expression, and the color running away from his face, it worked.

“what, don’t you have anything to say to me now?” he kept going, before atsumu shook his head, and pointed behind kiyoomi’s back wordlessly. the spiker raised an eyebrow, turning around to see you, in the flash, eyes wide open, a tiny little package in your hands, wrapped so neatly in colorful paper, with a little bow tie at the top.

even from a distance he could already half see, half imagine tears prickling your eyes before you smiled sadly, dropped the box from your hand and let it fall to the floor, and began walking out of the gym room.

“no, no no, y/n, wait!” he started shouting out, but your ears seemed deaf to his pleas, as he ran up to the door you just walked through, leaving atsumu alone, but with a condescending smile.

“i don’t like them that much my ass, omi-kun” he whispered to himself before walking over to grab his things.

meanwhile sakusa ran out to the reception room of the stadium, but as it turned out, it was filled with fans waiting for them all to come out, so they could wish him happy birthday, and it seemed impossible to get through the crowd and reached you, especially considering you were already at the exit door.

he looked around himself and noticed all the people, how many of them were there, and how close to him, and got paralyzed in place, wanting to move, or disappear, that’d be for the best, and yet he couldn’t even move one foot.

soon enough he felt a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back inside, his savior apologizing to the public.

“sorry guys, we have one more thing to go through! he’ll be out shortly” atsumu laughed off, before closing the door and handing omi the gift you left.

the spiker mindlessly opened it, only to find out a spotify code inside, put in between a glass frame. he took out his phone from the bag and scanned it with his app, gasping audiably when the page loaded.

lay back in the arms of someone by smokie showed up on his screen, and a smile crawled up his lips before he remembered how badly he fucked this up a second ago.

he narrowed his eyebrows before looking up to find the blond setter’s eyes.

“atsumu” his friend’s eyes widened in surprise upon hearing his first name, instead of surname “is there a back exit from here?”

atsumu miya smirked.

“bet ya there is, mr i-fucked-up-big-time” he answered, theatrically offering his hand, before taking the lead.

you on the other hand, came home peacefully, although hot tears were streaming silently down your cold cheeks as you entered the apartment’s door and looked at the calendar, showing the date of march 20th. in a sudden wave of aggression you ripped it off, knowing that there’s nothing to be so pressed about: he had no duty of feeling the same way towards you, why would you even expect it?

you went on with your day, ordering takeout for dinner, snuggling up on your couch and rewatching a series, not granting your thoughts access to yourself, and it was really going well, until you heard the doorbell ring.

“nobody’s home” you yelled, assuming it was either atsumu or bokuto on their way to cheer you up, and they’ll probably let themselves in as soon as they hear your voice, but that didn’t happen. instead, the doorbell kept on ringing. “ugh, just come in!”

they didn’t come in, so you lifted yourself off the couch and walked over to the door, opening it and gasping a tiny bit when instead of your dumbass friends holding McDonald’s you saw a one hundred and ninety two centimeters tall figure of a man, struggling to catch his breath, leaning on your doorframe, his black coat unbuttoned, cheeks red, eyes puffy and hair in a mess, not even gelled into place as they always are.

“can i help you?” you asked in a cold manner, voice sending daggers into his poor, confused heart, as he finally looked up to meet your glance, an apologetic look in his eyes when he tried to form a sentence.

“i think i can... no, way, i think i might...” he kept struggling, to which you only rolled your eyes, waiting for the continuation of that sentence.

“spit it out, sakusa” you stated, sending shivers down his spine with how annoyed you seemed.

yeah, spit it out, sakusa, he thought to himself before taking a breath and finally speaking up correctly:

“i think i might be in love with you.”

your eyes widened for a second as you tried to find evidence of honesty in his expression, tone, voice, because you definitely didn’t believe his words.

his heart dropped when you scoffed.

“i don’t need your pity”

that’s when it hit him:

omi doesn’t like to spend his birthday without you. you make it not only bearable, but fun.

in fact, he never wanted to spend it without you again. and as that realization made it’s way into his brain, he caught you closing your door.

“i respect you too much to pity you” he spat out as he placed his hand in between the door and the frame, making you unable to close it, even if you wanted to.

and there was the honesty you looked for.

“then why—” you started to wonder, but he shook his head before interrupting, a helpless look across his face.

to lay back in the arms of someone

“i’m afraid of... of this, okay? i’m afraid of falling in love, if this is any explanation for you. it’s like... you make me feel as if i’m on the top of the world” he laughed nervously, making you raise your eyebrows, before continuing “and it’s fucking scary to imagine falling from that high”

you give in to the charms of someone

his glance wondered all over your face to find crumbs of understanding, scared you’d laugh his confession off, a grimace of worry replacing the insecure smile painting his lips, and he was just one step away from shouting “i’m telling the truth!” at you, but you cut him off by opening your door fully, and welcoming him inside with a warm smile on your lips, and a reassuring sentence on your tongue.

happy 23rd, kiyoomi

“i think i might love you back”

omi likes feeling loved.

the next year flew by on both of you pushing each other’s limits, challenging each other like the both of you always needed, being there for each other, finding out how nice it feels to have someone there. it was coming home with a sore throat after a night of yelling “one more point, omi-omi!”. it was carefully intertwining your pinkies together while shopping without even realizing. it was awkward dates, because the label “date” always changes the atmosphere. it was taking weird selfies, it was having to part for out-of-town games and facetiming from hotel rooms. it was butterflies in the stomach and a ball of fluff in mind.

it was everything.

the first year of your official relationship flew by in no time, kiyoomi finding new joy in his birthday since now it was really a day to be remembered, marking your anniversary.

and just as you got home to his apartment after dinner, ready to unpack all the fanmail once again, the janitor of the building stopped you.

“sakusa-san, there was a flower delievery for you” he sighed, going towards a locked shelf and coming back with a bouquet, at which kiyoomi stared for a whole five seconds before you decided to take it.

“thank you for taking care of it” he muttered with a slight bow, you pushing him to go up the stairs. “who’s it from?” he’d ask you a minute later, halfway through the staircase.

“don’t you wanna check yourself?” you asked, but he frantically shook his head.

“check it for me, please”

omi doesn’t like flowers.

you nodded wordlessly before checking a card.

“well if i’m not mistaken this is your surname” you furrowed, struggling to read the handwriting. in your defense, the kanji for “sakusa” are quite complicated.

he looked over at the text before admitting “yeah, that’s from my aunt, she insists on sending those ever since i got into MSBY” he finally got to his door to unlock it “kinda sad how she didn’t even bother writing a text before” he chuckled, making you want to throw the flowers away.

you knew he considered them worthless if that’s the story behind the nice gesture.

the apartment door remained opened, but he didn’t enter, you almost stumbled over him, focusing on the note, and glanced over to see what caught him attention and prevented him from going inside.

“this is your surname, for a change” he stated, showing you a buffy envelope over his shoulder, but didn’t let you take it when you tried. instead he opened it himself, a neatly wrapped package inside, with a note at the top:

i wore glowes making it! i swear!

there was a typo in gloves, and the writing style could use a little work on it, but that didn’t affect kiyoomi at all, as he was hypnotized with his package after noticing your surname on it. he carefully opened it, to find a keychain, made from cubes, as the ones used in different boardgames, on every one there was a letter or a number, together forming the writing “kiyoomi 15″ with a heart at the end. it was all on a black string, and almost shined with how many times it was wiped before sending. after holding it in his hand for a while, he noticed another card at the bottom of the package, taking it out and reading out loud:

“please take care of my sibling. happy 24th!” he uttered in sheer amazement, as he grazed his fingers over the delicate ornament, before wordlessly going inside the apartment.

you followed him, closing the door behind you, worried about his reaction about your little sibling’s present, only to find him crouching before his couch, his training bag laying there as he tried to attach the keychain to the it’s zipper, smiling when he managed to do so.

before he got to turn around to face you, you managed to take a photo of him smiling at the newest addition to his training gear, and send it to your family with a caption:

omi likes personalized stuff.

over all the years of knowing kiyoomi, you’ve learnt so much about him, his life, his habits, everything. you knew him inside and out, and so he knew you. you’re laughing at your confusion and fear while you were buying his first birthday gift, as you sit on the floor in your shared apartment, plotting his 25th, biggest yet gift, as if he isn’t about to walk through the door, coming back from practice.

it’s almost ridiculous, how you struggled, wondering if he’d even like a gift, when right now you have a whole list in mind:

although omi doesn’t like gifts, he likes little thougtful gestures. he doesn’t like fancy big words, but likes real, honest wishes he can really take to heart. he doesn’t like spending his birthday without you, he likes feeling love, doesn’t like flowers, but does like his gifts personalized and touching.

you realize all the moments in your relationship made you know his every emotion and expression, but you’ve never seen your precious boyfriend cry, ever.

and you decide to change that.

you’re gonna make him something that’s gonna mask all the memories of his birthday being forgotten, walked pass by, pushed into the back, and not properly celebrated. that’s gonna outshine every single gift he’s ever got. that’s gonna make him so happy, he’ll cry.

an idea pops into your head as you get a pen and start writing.

dear kiyoomi,

_______

“dear kiyoomi” you get to hear him say a couple of nights later, he reads it out on your plea, with a smile across his lips, as you, atsumu, bokuto, meian and hinata, as well as omi’s older siblings and komori and osamu sit at the table, a cake and two traces of his favorite cupcakes are taking all the space possible.

omi’s voice is colored with a couple of glasses of wine, so it’s easier to him to relax and genuinely grin at the paper as he’s reading, all part of your plan.

“when i first met you, the first thing i found out is that you’re a private person. not that i was freaked out or anything, but you did have, and probably you still do, a heavy aura around you that may have flustered me a tiny little— a tiny little bit? smiles, your hands literally shivered” he stopped to comment, making you roll your eyes at him.

“zip it and keep reading, birthday boy”

“... a tiny little bit, i agree. nevertheless, the first thing i actually felt, was that you striked my soul as someone weird. thanks, baby” he interrupted again, but you urged him to keep reading. “... weird in a way that made me feel like i’ve never felt before, the kind of safe and terrified at the same time. terrified of what, you might ask? well, kiyoomi, here i’d like to quote you. you once told me that me loving you is like i had the power to break you, and you loving me back was like giving me a map with all the points to strike at. well if that’s the definition of love we’re going for here, than i not only give you a map, i’ll grant you a whole GPS. the trust you put in me every day to not take advantage of what you’ve given me is inspiring, and hence, i surrender every single point of ressistance i’ve held against you, i’m yours to snap at a wish, and trusting you that you won’t do it is something i can spend my life believing in.”

at this point kiyoomi had to stop and take a deep breath and a sip of his wine before continuing, clearing his throat a bit, chocking back his emotion.

“... throughout my years by your side, i’ve memorized everything there is to memorize about you and gifts. you generally aren’t a fan, but you like them carrying a lot of thought, dedication, you like them meant exactly to you and to you only. you don’t want pointless blabbing and overused sentences, you enjoy sincerity. you need love radiating from them in order to truly acknowledge them as something special. now, the last thing i know is that you don’t like flowers, but i hope you won’t be too angry with me and with what i’ve prepared for you. enjoy, signed, your smiles” he finished, looking up at you, already moving towards the counter, grabbing a bouquet from behind it.

he watched in amazement as you handed it to him, taking it in his hands, realizing that-

it was a bouquet of origami flowers.

“please, y/n, this is so—” he tried to find the right words, but once again, nothing came to mind as he watched your careful work from every side possible.

“shh, there’s a special thing to them” you explained, sitting back in your seat, exactly in a straight line from him, watching every single change in his expression as he tried to find what you meant.

he realized every flower had a little card sticking out from it’s center, and pulled the first one, the closest one to him.

“the first reason i love you” he read in a weak voice, chuckling nervously again before he found the courage to read it out loud “you make me feel protected”

he looked up at you with such a gentle and caring note in his eyes that you almost didn’t want to encourage him to keep reading it, but you did.

“two. you don’t smile too much” after that he raised an eyebrow, but read the next one “three. ...but when you do, you outshine the sun itself. four. you memorized my coffee order within the first two times we’ve been to a caffee. five. you got supplies to redo my coffee order without going to the— hey i swear i didn’t mean anything bad by it!”

“that’s literally the reason they love you for, idiot” atsumu laughed, urgining him to keep reading with a hand gesture. “come on, this is adorable”

“six. you have a playlist with songs that remind you of me. yes, i know this, omi, we share a spotify account. seven. you claim you don’t like interacting with people, but let a little girl propose to you with a cereal ring in the park.”

“this is too cute, omi is a softie” bokuto whined, hiding his face in his hands, but sakusa only slapped them off.

“am not. eight. you keep a mental score of all the times you won over ushijima. nine. you take way too much pride in beating atsumu in service aces”

“true that!” atsumu shouted, hiding behind his glass.

“ten” sakusa shook his head. “you don’t enjoy PDA, yet gave me the kiss of the century when i met your mother, just to annoy her. eleven. your childhood photos are too cute. twelve. you blasted hopelessly devoted to you the morning after we— i’m not reading that, idiot!” he half laughed half whined, in a high-pitched voice.

“omi-san knows how it’s done, apparently” hinata wheezed, komori accompanying him.

“did i ask?” he rolled his eyes and went back to picking lines from the flowers. “thirteen, you tug the corner of my sleeves when you’re stressed in public. fourteen, you have me saved in your phone as your good luck charm. fifteen. you put my head on your chest when i can’t sleep at night, to calm me down. sixteen. you make me laugh when i’m sad. seventeen. you almost never intent to make me laugh, yet always do. eighteen. you always make sure i’m carrying all the emergency items all me at all times. nineteen. you make me call you when i get home from a party, if you aren’t there to pick me up. twenty, you always insist on picking me up from wherever i am, because you’re worried about me. i mean yeah, what kind of a boyfriend would i be if i weren’t?” he genuinely asked, half of the guest shaking their heads.

“come on, five more to go, you adorable, clueless idiot” motoya pat his back and looked over his shoulder to see your careful handwriting, before sakusa hid the message from him.

“twenty one. you make me not worry about my future. twenty two, you try to do all your little morning rituals in advance when you leave, so i don’t miss you too much. i still do. twenty three, you’re never afraid to be bluntly honest with me. twenty four, you always ask if you can hug me when i’m low or crying. and twenty five—” he stopped more suddenly than anywhere before, eyes visibly watering before he dropped his head down and his it in his arms.

“what’s on there?” several guys asked over themselves, as omi kept laughing slightly, hiding tears in the sleeves of his fitted shirt.

“you’re gonna be the death of me” he murmured into the material, making everyone laugh, including you, who decided to walk over to him and hug him, resting your head on his, taking advantage of the fact that he was sitting and you could reach it.

after a moment of weakness, he showed his red and slightly puffy face, two trails of tears fitting his smiling expression as he struggled to say

“twenty five. you make me prouder and prouder every day.” he kept laughing through his tears, really trying to hide his emotion and failing miserably. “you really did try to make me cry on my birthday, didn’t you?” he looked up to you still embracing him.

“i suppose i did”

“well then, i’m gonna outshine you” he said, shifting in his seat in order to get up, wiping the last remains of tears from his face.

“what do you mean?” you asked, met with his confident smirk.

“you’re gonna see in a bit, trust me” he huffed, dusting off his pants’ material on the knee level, and reaching over to his pocket, in his hand a tiny, little box.

with a little more than an origami flower.

#haikyuu sakusa #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #hq fanfic #hq prompts #hq scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #fluff #hq fluff

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mskimkaty · 3 years

Text

Quit | J.JH

Angst, Smut, fluff (little bit on the end)

Synopsis: You might think that some people who did you bad have little impact in your life, tip toeing from situations that you knew could repeat the same mistakes but there will always be that one person who will destroy all your resolve and you’ll find yourself fucking your rules for them.

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: love u all. pls enjoy! (not really proof read)

Edit: uhmmm pls don’t judge me but this is actually my bf and my story of how we met to how we become couples. Alright. Enjoy!!!!

You hated how you didn’t take “searching for college schools” seriously, and now, you’re all but stuck for the rest of your college years in the same school you graduated from High school. You know it’s a good school, having to be in the top 7 elite schools all over the country that has an institution that offers all levels of education— but you honestly don’t care about that right now. You wished you didn’t choose the easy road in finding a good college because now you’re stuck with a university that has zero-base for their grading system, 75 marks as their passing grade, and put their students with fully loaded units— having up to 30 units per semester. How Asian can it get?

Fourth-year high school wasn’t your year, when a particular boy, Jeon Jungkook broke your heart. He was a close friend first before he became someone more than that, you told yourself not to be involved with the likes of him in any way, you first meet during your junior year by a mutual friend—Joy, your best friend, was in the same class as him, thus, the reason the both of you became close.

Joy warned you about him and you knew because that’s what you told her base on your first impression on Jungkook, but you still tested the waters. And that’s how you broke your heart for the first time, you let yourself trust him despite all the bad things that you heard about him, you ignore everything because you were happy around him, but you were tired of having a relationship without a label and the fact that he doesn’t want you to be seen together speaks so much. You went on a retreat for 3 days in your senior year as it was a requirement for every graduating students by your catholic school, you weren’t going steady per se, but you still talked nonetheless, as he was getting busy with basketball, and you, having the cheerleading competition around the corner, training, exams, and graduation. You both have so much on your own plates.

You kept on seeing red flags— the way he’s not responding to your calls and messages for a week, you haven’t really seen him around the school as varsity players have their own retreat, and when you saw a photo posted in his Instagram account with a girl in your year. She was a transferee, that’s all you remember after receiving a text message of him saying sorry. You hated how forgiving you can be, you hoped you can be tough and talk back to him— but no, you never had the chance to say what you wanted to say to him. You just let everything go. You can’t even ask someone to comfort you because of the fact you were a secret. You didn’t even know why you agreed with that kind of set up in the first place. Why did you choose something temporarily for a piece of mind? You hated how easy you can get sometimes, but you closed that chapter in your life after cursing him for months in your head and some Friday night parties until you graduated High school.

And now, you’re in your second year of college and very much single. You received a message from Seulgi, saying that she needs to cancel your plans from eating out because of a midterm exam that got rescheduled she was your best friend together with Joy, Irene, and Wendy since high school but college happened and the five of you went with different schools except for Wendy and Seulgi who enrolled at the same University. You have a heavy sigh, it’s not that you don’t have friends in your own department, you do. It’s just that all your girlfriends have classes and won’t be done until 3 in the afternoon— and you’re very much hungry.

You saw a very familiar face exiting the lesson hall next to yours and you’re quick on your feet to hide behind the walls of your classroom.

“Y/n, I’ve already seen you, you know.” Suh Johnny stands beside you with Ten beside him smiling at you, you three both did your handshakes after getting drag out of the room. “Have you eaten already?” Ten asks and you shook your head. Johnny put his arms around your shoulders and the three of you walked out of the campus to eat out.

“Oppa, what’s that?” you asked Ten preferring to his phone when you all settled down while Johnny browses the menu on what to order. “Jaehyun asked if he can join.” He says to the both of you, you look at Johnny as you both shrugs. Jung Jaehyun was once an IT student, he shifted after a year into your department and incredibly smart in mathematics. He was instantly everyone’s friend in your year.

“I’m cool with him,” Johnny says and they both look at you. You’re not really fond of everybody and not entirely friendly with everyone. You’ve been close with Johnny and Ten who were much older than you only because you knew them since High school. “It’s cool.” You muttered.

“But you wouldn’t be comfortable around other people, though.” Ten commented. They were completely aware of your introverted ass. They know what happened to you during your fourth-year high school, not only with Jeon Jungkook but the fact that all of your female classmates during your senior year made you an outcast. You honestly find it funny now, since you know that you have four amazing friends who stuck with you through thick and thin. You wished you had taken up the opportunity when Seulgi asked you to join her for hunting college schools before graduating High school so that you can be with her throughout your college years, but what’s done is done, what happened to you in the past brought you here right now and made you who you are. It wasn’t a problem for you— you like having the quality over quantity. You like how your circle of friends isn’t that big, too many people in your life can cost you too much trouble in the end, you know that because you’ve already experienced it first hand, having many people in your life will only lead you to disappointments.

You weren’t familiar with Jung Jaehyun, per se, you just had a class with him during the second semester of your first year of college, that one professor you disliked so much teaching algebra instead of business mathematics and had the audacity to fail you. You hated how you got a failed mark while Jaehyun passed the subject despite his absences, you acknowledge him for having a big brain when it comes to numbers but you still find it unfair how he passed and you failed, you wished you could be as smart as him. You first met him when Mark introduced you to him after your Psychology class, you were talking with Mark about your Final output for the subject when he came up to Mark— fist-bumping, while wearing a white hoodie and black jeans, had those big Nike bags that you knew Basketball players uses, his white sneakers clean and you look at yours— completely worn out and definitely needed a new pair.

He was smiling at you, eyeing Mark while waiting to be introduced to you. That got you rolling your eyes at him unknowingly, making him slightly intimidated with you. You shot Jaehyun a fake smile— he was cute, charming, tall, and obviously another varsity player. God, your skin starts to crawl, another varsity player is being too friendly with you. You bid Mark goodbye, and that was the start of your acquaintances with Jung Jaehyun, he was everywhere, becoming the Mr. Congeniality of your Department in no time when he shifted after a year in Information Technology.

The three of you waited for Jaehyun to arrive before ordering your lunch, you waited for another minute before the door opened and Jaehyun walked in wearing a black long tee and denim jeans paired with his clean white sneakers. He settled down beside Ten who was in front of you and you started to become uncomfortable. Johnny and Jaehyun decided to get your orders and you were left with Ten in your booth.

“Y/N, Jaehyun’s a good guy, you already know him for half a year, why are you still uncomfortable around him?” Ten asks you as you heave a heavy sigh. It’s not that you're uncomfortable around him because of your trust issues, you’re uncomfortable because clearly, he’s your type, and you’re not comfortable with the idea of it, you know he already had a girlfriend, you saw his wallpaper for a second when he put it down on the table before locking it. “I’m not. It’s just that—Oppa, can’t I be shy around people?” you countered, Ten looked at you funnily. “Don’t kid with me, y/n- ah. You guys both have International Cuisine, right?” he asks and you nod. “Then, you’ll be around him more often from now on, loosen up, He’s a great guy, if he did something to you, just tell me and Johnny and we’ll take care of it for you.” he flashed you a smile and you brush it off while giggling at him. “Thanks, Oppa, but no thanks.” You say and the two came back with two trays full of food. “It’s on me.” Johnny settled down next to you and you shoot him a grateful smile as the four of you started digging.

“Are you throwing a party for your birthday?” Johnny suddenly asked, you nod at him and he muttered a small okay while your eyes darted at Jaehyun— it would be totally rude not to invite him for your birthday party when the topic is already laid on the table. Plus, he was looking at the three of you intently, seemingly out of place with the subject of the conversation. “Jaehyun, you should come on my birthday, It’s on the 19th, just some drinks and food on me, nothing too grand.” You find yourself saying and Ten and Johnny were shocked that you invited him. you clear your throat and continued “Can you guys ask everyone? I haven’t seen Yuta, Jungwoo, and Taeil Oppa but I already asked a bunch of people.” You added. They all agreed. “Thanks for inviting me, I think I don’t have anything going on that day,” Jaehyun commented. “Sounds like a plan.” You say and the four of you continued digging in.

That night on your birthday, everything made a 360-degree turn in your life. Having 23 boys in your flat and some of your girlfriends turn out to be so much fun. When you run out of drinks you find yourself on Jaehyun’s passenger seat as the two of you drive to the nearest store to purchase some alcohol— You and Jaehyun seem like the only person sober enough to walk and drive your way outside the comforts of your home. You felt really comfortable around him, he hasn’t made a move on you or anything, and you think that maybe it’s because he already had a girlfriend and is faithful to their relationship.

“Why didn’t you bring your girlfriend with you?” you asked just to start a conversation. “You knew?” he asked you while throwing you side glances, you nod your head yes. “It’s kind of complicated, plus, we're not official.” He continued which made you shocked, he was being open with you shockingly. “What? Why?” for some reason, it made you really curious. He gives you a heartily chuckle “It’s complicated.” You only nod.

When you came back to your flat, you and Jaehyun were left to sit together, Mark and Haechan were completely out of it, while Joy and Irene are having a conversation with Jisung and Chenle. It’s nice to see them conversing with each other. Johnny was busy preparing the drinks with Yuta, Taeyong, and Seulgi, while the others are setting up the karaoke on your flat screen Tv hanged on your living room’s wall.

You thought that was the last time you’ll see Jung Jaehyun, or you thought that was the last time you’ll be together in the same room as well as be at the same table together. You forgot that you both have classes together, that you’re practically in the same department, you honestly forgot that you’re both in the same circle of friends.

You’ve been closer with the guys as time goes by, they were nothing like the people from your High school, they were honestly cool to be with, it just that, they like to unwind sometimes, and that “sometimes” means every Friday of the week, unwinding with drinks and such. This time, Jaehyun was the host, and Jungwoo together with Taeil managed to dragged and convinced you out of girlfriend nights. You have been hanging out with them more than usual and you were getting closer with Jaehyun, particularly, you keep on looking for him at gatherings and he kept on looking out for you. There was an unspoken mutual understanding between the two of you, you know it was wrong, even if you find yourself giddy and happy when he messages you or when he calls you before you go to bed when the two of you meet in between subjects just to eat together. You knew you were repeating the same mistakes as you did with Jungkook, and you can’t help but fuck yourself because everything is wrong at the same time feels right. How screwed can you get? Why do you always choose temporary happiness over a peace of mind?

That night, when most of the guys left to go home and some of them left to smoke outside, you find yourself alone with Jaehyun in his living room. You poured him and yourself a shot, the guys were surely taking their time outside. “One-shot.” You tell him and you both down the tequila in seconds, hissing at the taste burning your throats. You stared at him, thinking that you have to start distancing yourself from him, you don’t want to ruin what he had with his girl. Your stomach turns just by thinking about the possibilities of ruining someone else’s relationship. You were better than that.

You move your gaze away from him, you were about to pour another shot when you felt Jaehyun’s warm hand on your neck pulling you closer. You felt his warm lips on yours, it was sweet and warm, burning you within, but the taste was anything but sweet— you tasted the tequila out of his lips as he licks your bottom lip that got you responding to him, you closed your eyes and find yourself fucking your boundaries for him. You wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you closer by the waist, rubbing small circles on your skin. You break the kiss as you put your forehead on his, trying to catch your breath. He was about to kiss you again when you move your face away from him, trying to put some distance away from him. “Did I do something wrong?” you heard him saying. You wipe the smudged lipstick on your skin below your lips as you face him. “Jaehyun, you’re not completely single.” You said. “But I’m not in a relationship either, I told you months ago, it was complicated.” He sits beside you properly, a hand clamped together as you look at him.

“Jaehyun, this is non-negotiable. I don’t want to ruin someone’s relationship.” You say, and Johnny walks in. you poured yours and Jaehyun’s shot glass clicking with his before downing it in one go. If Johnny felt the thick air between the two of you, he doesn’t comment on it.

You choose to forget what happened when all of the guys started walking back inside. Started conversing with Johnny about this student in your department that got kicked out of the university because of some issues. You got your self a couple of drinks before standing up to head to the bathroom, but since it was your first time at Jaehyun’s house you ask him where it was, plus Lucas was incredibly taking his time in the bathroom so Jaehyun leads you to his room instead. “Just use mine, Lucas is taking forever.” He said. You nod and head for the bathroom in his room. His room was surprisingly clean and very much boyish in your opinion, the walls are painted blue, his bed covers are white and was neatly done, the cabinets are on the side while a bunch of basketball trophies is beside his computer.

When you were done with his bathroom, you find him sitting at the end of his bed, browsing his phone while waiting for you. “I thought you already went down,” you said. Jaehyun looks up at you. “Can I look at your trophies?” you asked him and as he walks to you and standing beside you to look at his achievements during his High school days.

“Wait, you went to Santa Clara?” you asked him. “So, you know, Jeon Jungkook?” you asked shocked at the information when he said as small “Yes. Why?”

You shook your head and muttered nothing. “We went with some tune-up games in the past, but I know him, he and his group keep on hitting on our cheerleaders it was kind of funny.” He says to you and you laughed. “What’s new, but— wow, what a small world.” “Oh, that’s right he graduated from St. Vincent, right?” you turn your head at him and you see Jaehyun looking at you while waiting for your answer, you only nodded your head, not having the gusto to talk about Jeon Jungkook at the moment. You felt Jaehyun’s hands circling around your wrist, turning your body against him making you look up to him.

You were completely drawn to him, from the way he pulls you closer by the waist, the way he lifts your head as he put his other hand to your face, he has you completely wrapped around his fingers. You felt his lips doing wonders to you and this time you let him kiss you. You find yourself wrapped around him for the second time. “Jaehyun—”

“Hmm.” You felt him deepened the kiss as he pulls you impossibly closer, hips to hips pressed together and you hated how right it felt. “We need to go down.” you tried to push him away but he won't budge. Jaehyun, slips his thumb just above the exposed skin on your hips, rubbing small circles that got you moaning “If you haven’t noticed, I’m actually crazy for you right now.” He says under his breath and you felt warm all over. Jaehyun has his brows furrowed, his expression as if he was hurting all over the place, and you laugh at him. “Fine, I’ll spend the night here.” You hear yourself saying and Jaehyun only pulled you closer for a hug.

When the night ended, Jaehyun tells the guys that he’ll be the one to give you a ride and no one suspects it— agreeing to him and biding the two of you goodbye while the two of you cleaned up the living room. Moments after, you find yourself having second thoughts about staying the night with him. You know this will only lead to you on Jung Jaehyun’s bed. “Do you want to go home?” he asks you as if reading your mind, and you shook your head. “But can we go grab some late snacks? I’m kind of hungry.”

The both of you drove to McDonald's and ordered some take-outs, Jaehyun drove to a good spot and parked his car, handing you your orders after putting on some good music— fit for the atmosphere. “Ohhh, this is actually good, huh.” You say while smiling at him. Jaehyun put your drinks in the cupholder between the both of you and handed you some tissues after. The warm feelings are back and you hate to admit that he gives you butterflies in your stomach.

“I mean, this could be our thing, y/m.”

You didn’t comment on that. Digging into your burger as a distraction to the strange sensation that you kept on feeling. You were quietly eating your food while having mixed feelings about him. you know this familiar feeling— you’re not stupid enough not to know your catching feelings and that you’re starting to fall in love again.

When you finished up, you turn your body towards Jaehyun, deciding to confess, it’s better to be turned down than to keep on catching feelings for someone who isn’t going to return it at all. It’s not like you to be so brave, in the past, you always wait and that was the problem. You wait until the opportunity slides away from your fingers— from you. Deciding to risk everything this time, you braced yourself for the rejection.

“Jaehyun.” You started and he turns his head towards you. “You know, I like you, right?” you continued. “You’re not stupid and you know there is something going on with the both of us.” Silence feels inside his car to the point it got so thick you can even cut it with a knife. “I may sound like a bitch but you have to choose between me and her.”

“Remember when I told you on your birthday that my relationship with her is complicated?” you nodded your head. “I wasn’t lying about it. We’ve known each other for a while and it’s been eight months that time when I wanted to take our relationship to another level.” Hearing him talk about some other girl and the fact he wanted to make their relationship official hurts you in so many ways possible. You find yourself nodding at him as you ignore the lump in your throat. “But she won’t even admit that she likes me, not even one “Thank you” for all the effort I’ve given her, I understand that saying she loves me is a different level, it’s an understatement, but you know, I’m just someone who also needed affections. I don’t understand her for being so high maintenance.”

“I actually talked with her personally this morning.” He continued. “Was that the reason why you’re absent?” you asked mad over the fact that he was absent for some uncalled reason. “Okay, let me finish before you get mad at me, baby.” You hate how endearing that sounded but you let him talk anyways. “I told her, I was done waiting and that I was sorry that I didn’t keep my promise.”

“You actually courted her?” you asked and he nods. “Yeah, she is high maintenance and stupid.”

“And you know what she replied? She says that she’ll say yes to me if that will make me stay or shut my trap, even, you know how the thought of actually agreeing to that one person to be together was gone just for the benefit of the doubt? She should have said yes from the beginning, I don’t have issues with waiting, I waited for almost a year, I know I can do it again, but not like this.” He moves his hands in the air just to set his point. “Was it my fault that I fell out of love?” He asks you and you turn your head away from him, guilty with the fact you are the reason he fell out of love with her. “Y/n, just give me time, I don’t even need that much.” He says and you nod your head.

When both of you got back to Jaehyun’s flat, it was already midnight, Jaehyun handed you his white clean shirt and boxer shorts to change in to. Giving you some privacy that you needed while he brushes his teeth downstairs. So many things have been running through your mind for the past hour, Jaehyun didn’t turn you down but he didn’t say that he likes you back, either. So where do you stand in his life? You should have gone home; you didn’t want the same mistakes you did in the past to be repeated, but you were tired of waiting and beating around the bush.

Confessing to Jung Jaehyun that you liked him first made you feel naked around him, having your feelings out in the open. When Jaehyun walked in you were still dazed, thousand of thoughts running through your mind. This wasn’t the first time that you’ve to spend the night with him having sleepovers at Johnny’s or the others but this was definitely your first time spending the night with him.

It wasn’t an issue for you to sleep beside him since you already confessed, anyway. And in no time, you slip off to dreamland instantly, shocked at how comfortable you are with having his arms around you as you drifted off to dreamland.

You stir in your sleep when you felt Jaehyun’s hands all over your upper body as he peppers your neck with wet kisses. you fight the sleepiness and look at his nightstand to see that it’s only been two hours when you drifted off to sleep. “Jae, It’s only three in the morning. Can’t you do this later?” you asked as you fight the sleep in your eyes. You felt Jaehyun’s hands hover around your left mound, squeezing it slightly and you look at him fully. “You agree on doing this later?” he asks out of breath.

“You expect me to fall asleep when you’re on my bed in my clothes?” he whispered in your ear and you moan when his fingers slip in your undies— rubbing circles in your clit. “Already this wet?” Jaehyun continued his ministration on you, adding another finger inside you while he kisses you on the lips. You felt him retract his fingers away and you were about to protest when you felt him lift your shirt just below your chin, your mounds completely in view and ready to be played with. His hands went back on your thighs as he separated your left leg from the other, urging you to open your legs more. His fingers are back on your clit, drawing small circles that made you clenching on nothing. Jaehyun frowned when he felt your walls incredibly tight when he inserted two fingers at a time. “Baby, so fucking tight.”

Jaehyun throws his shirt over his head and helped you undress, completely impatient, and you tried palming him just to get a reaction. You heard him grunt lowly, shocked at how big he is when Jaehyun got rid of all the clothing. “That won’t fit on me.”

“Where’s your casual bravado at?” he asks as he pulls you to his lap. You look anywhere but him as your cheeks started to flush. “Don’t tell me— are you a virgin?” you nod your head at him as you felt his cock stood out more to the revelation. “Fuck, well take it slow, baby.” Jaehyun guided you to his lap as you ride him, moving your hips as you coat his dick with your juices. You have your bottom lip trap between your teeth as you let his dick slide in your pussy’s lips. Feeling embarrassed but desperate you tried to push yourself back to meet his hips as you whine with the newfound sensations. You look so lewd above him riding his cock as your tits bounce from your movements, your eyes start to water from the thrill Jaehyun gives you. “I need to hear you.” Jaehyun pushes the messy strands of hair that frames your face.

You moan at the feeling of his veiny cock sliding in between your pussy’s lips. He hums, pleased with your sounds around him, and rewards you by inserting his fingers all the way inside you, the numbers doing wonders and stinging you a bit, but it still felt better than having to clench at nothing. Jaehyun marks you up all over your neck and just above your mounds, flesh to flesh as you moan for him. He pumps his fingers in and out of you as you ride his cock continuously. He gathers you in his arms and lays you on your back, pulling your thighs against your chest, keeping your legs spread as he pushes inside you slowly, grunting. “I wasn’t planning on putting it inside, but you just feel so fucking good.”

You cried at the stretch, slowly tearing you apart as he moves inch by inch just to be inside you fully. When he’s all the way inside of you, his breath leaves him in a shaky sigh, and he takes a couple of moments for the both of you before he started moving. You know Jaehyun was holding back, as he focusses on your breast as they bounce up and down in a humiliating manner as he pushes into you slowly for his liking, while his hands keep your legs spread wide for him, you felt embarrassed and humiliated with the way you’re positioned under him, but you can’t help every moan that escapes you as it started to feel amazing more than a while ago. The sting you felt was gone and all you can think is the pleasure that he gives you.

“Fuck, you’re tightening up.” You turn your head to the side, trying to bury your face in the pillows around you as you hide your face from him, but Jaehyun doesn’t allow it, he bends down— his upper body draped over you, his face mere inched from yours, the new positions has his right hand pulling your right leg further upwards, thigh pressing harder against your chest. “Say it, baby. I need to hear you.” His gaze pierces through you, ordering more than asking you to obey him, and you find him looking sexier as he looks even as his skin glistens and how some strands of his hair started to stick over his forehead.

Docilely and submissive, you answered him. “I- I want to cum, please.” You sounded so lewd; you didn’t even recognize yourself anymore. His gaze doesn’t free yours as his hips started to pick up the pace. “Do you know how hot you look right now? Spread out on my bed with nothing but my cock in you? fuck, fuck.” You started clenching around him as he put his thumb on your clit, drawing circles as you cry out his name in ecstasy.

He fucks you through your orgasm, grunting as your walls get even tighter, making it harder for him to keep on moving inside of you but that made him ravish you more with fervor. Your orgasm feels like it will never end as he drags it out in order to reach his own high, finally, his hips stutter as he pulls out of you and pumps his dick more as he comes in your stomach and breasts.

When he was done, he moves away from you and walks to the bathroom, you heard the faucet running and Jaehyun came out with a wet, warm towel in his hands and uses it to clean up the mess the two of you made. When he’s done, he tosses it to the side and scoops you in his arms, covering both of your naked bodies with his blanket that smells like him. He had you trap in his arms and sure it felt good to be treated like this, the feeling new to you.

“Sleep, let’s not think about what happened for now.” He murmured and you agree. “I’m sorry.” You heard him say. You look up at him and see different emotions flickers in his eyes. “Honestly, I’ve seen this coming, I’m not usually like this but I always find myself fucking my rules just to be with you.” Jaehyun pulls you closer to him. “That’s because you liked me.” He told you before you drifted off to sleep for the second time.

The next morning, Jaehyun give you a ride home, you— being awfully quiet after realizing everything that happened when you saw the bloodstains in his bedsheets that morning. You didn’t utter a word throughout the ride, reality downing to you one by one. Did you just sleep with a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend in the first place? When you got in the comforts of your home you smack your head for the stupidity. You knew how boys can be, and you just give Jaehyun the chance to have his way with you easily without a fight.

When a day passed by without seeing even a shadow of Jaehyun, you sent him a message asking what was he doing. You waited for hours but you didn’t get a reply from him that day. You’ve been overthinking things and didn’t have the energy to be productive at all, you tried calling him but he wasn’t answering at all. The next day came and you checked your phone for any notification from him but there was none, you were about to get up when you heard a car honking in front of your house— you walk towards your window and there, you saw Jung Jaehyun, standing beside his car in your front yard, smiling up at you with his hands tucked inside his jean’s pockets. You ignore the raging butterflies in your stomach and hide the blush creeping in your cheeks with your hair as you give him a bashful smile in return.

When you came down after washing up and getting ready for school, you kissed your mom goodbye saying you’re skipping breakfast and will just eat out in the café next to the University. You run to Jaehyun, his arms open and ready to catch you in his arms— and you embrace him. “Haven’t heard from you yesterday.” You push your self a little away from him to see a smile playing at his lips. “I miss you too.” He answered and for some reason, cat got your tongue.

“It’s still early, do you want to eat out?” Jaehyun asked you when you both settle down inside his car and you nod your head after checking your wristwatch, you still have two hours to kill before your classes start, it’s Tuesday, so the both of you are packed up with your chef’s uniforms in your bags.

“I hate cooking.” You tell no one in particular as Jaehyun started to drive away, “But you’re the top in our department.” you only give him a glance as you relax your body.

When you arrived at the café next to your University, it was still spacious as it was still early, most of the time students would fill the room up, studying or just talking with their peers. You both settle down on the booth next to the window— Jaehyun, ever the gentlemen ordering and buying you your food. “Jaehyun, I really appreciate you spending your money on me, but next time let me pay for my own food.” You say when he came back with a tray of pastries and coffees in his hands. “Why?” he asked.

“Because it’s your money, and we’re still students you know, we shouldn’t spend recklessly.” Jaehyun was bewildered by what you said and it was clearly written on his face. “Why?” you asked scared that you might say something wrong. “It’s just that, I was used to spending money for her even if I get to eat nothing as long as she gets hers.” He says. You felt horrified after hearing that. “No way, if you ran out of money, you say it and I’m going to pay for us, all right?”

“You sure you haven’t been in relationships?” there was a bashful smile playing at Jaehyun’s face, “No, it’s called basic manners, Jung Jaehyun.” You laughed at him. “So, I haven’t heard from you at all yesterday.” You watched as Jaehyun sipped at his iced americano— nodding at you as if you’ve stated the obvious.

“I ended everything with her, what she said doesn’t really sit on me right. I didn’t take her to be that hypocrite in the first place.” Jaehyun started. So, he was with her last night, you think, but not in the way that you think, he meets with her to cut and finish everything between them. “I just hate that every time we fought, she would always turn the tables around, guilt tripping me so I can admit that I’m wrong when she also has her mistakes in the first place. Don’t think that this happened because of you, it started happening before you even came, I don’t want you to beat yourself thinking that you ruined my relationship with her, because in the first place there’s no relationship between us.” You nod your head and all you can do is listen.

“Do you regret everything that has been happening?” you asked as you hear your heart beating rapidly inside your chest, you look at him and he did the same. “No. You happened unexpectedly, but no, I don’t regret you.” you fought the tears away, feeling the warmth and comfort inside, this has never happened to you, someone choosing you over anything, and you can’t help but tear up.

“Why are you crying? It’s not me who’s choosing you but you’re the one who is choosing me. If you haven’t noticed a lot of guys wants to be with you, so I’m really grateful that you liked me instead.” Jaehyun wiped the tears that threatening to fall down your check and pulling you close in his arms after. You put your head in his arms, everything feels surreal and if ever you are dreaming you don’t want to wake up anymore. “I really like you,Y/n.” you look up to him laughing as you cry harder, all this baggage and walls gone because of one person.

That was the start of your relationship with Jung Jaehyun, all those crazy days and nights with him, long drives and Friday nights, eating and pigging out with him, he knows you more than the back of his hands, he knows that you get moody every month, he knew about your introverted ass, he knows that you can be basic and simple at times— you don’t expect too much of him and he does the same with you, on your first year of being together, you introduced Jaehyun to your whole family on your reunion day and they instantly love him— specially your brother and cousins. They enjoyed talking to him, and you’re honestly surprised at how welcoming you parents are to him, asking him to sleep over, Jaehyun and your brother having the same interest, playing computer games until the sun rises, His mother sending a box full of apples to your mother because he mentions that it’s your mom’s favorite.

Sometimes you get scared of breaking up with him, fighting isn’t something that the both of you can avoid, there are times the you just want to strangle him to death, but that makes everything real, being jealous and having make up sex, all those time the both of you fight for something trivial, those moments make your relationship stronger. And now you’ve been with him for the past 4 years, going steady and strong.

“Babe, you ready?” you both settle down on his car, you just finish your final exams for this week, you and Jaehyun are up for a 2 hour long drive to get to your vacation house, most of your family are already there since this morning and the both of you have to finish your exams and classes first before joining them, you nod your head at him as he pull his jacket over his head and handing it you. Jaehyun knows that you get easily cold but you don’t want to turn the heater up and make him suffer as he tends to sweat a lot, that leads you to having his hoodies stack up in your closet.

“You have to cut your smoking off you know it’s not good for your health.” You say as you saw him scratch the back of his neck, a freshly lit stick in his mouth, when the both of you started going out you have seen him smoke a couple of times to the point that it got you curious and tried it, you have been smoking in the past but you cut it off as it was unhealthy. Jaehyun on the other hand finds it hard. “old habits die hard.” He told you once.

“You got to compromise, baby.” Jaehyun blew the smoke outside— his window rolled down and one hand on the stirring wheel, you got to admit though, your boyfriend looked hot. “Fine, what do you suggest?”

“Marry me after we graduate.” Your head snap back to look at him, as you waited for him to laugh and say that he was joking. Jaehyun throw the cigar outside reaching for the rubbing alcohol to clean his hands, you tend to hate the smell that clings to his hands whenever he smokes. You were awfully quiet, shocked at what he said, and you found yourself caught in your thoughts.

“If you promise to be with me forever, until the day that our hair turns white, then I promise to cut my smoking off.” He smiled at you, reaching for your hands that was placed in your lap as he pulls it closer to his mouth to give it some kisses. You can’t really say anything as tears started to fall one by one, you we’re just so happy that he thinks of being together with you for that long. “I know I’ve done so many things that disappoints you, but you still choose to be with me, and for that, I’m really grateful. So, I’m asking you this right now, I know we still have to graduate and we still have a long way ahead of us. And I would still have to buy you the most beautiful ring in the world. What I can give you right know is my hopeful words— promising you that I would be faithful and love you until the end, so are you going to say yes?” he asks while holding your hand.

“Yes.” the both of you laughed at the situation as you reach out to kiss him in the cheeks. “Babe! Stay seated or will get into an accident” he shouts but laughs with you.

You definitely don’t regret falling in love with Jung Jaehyun.

Fin

#jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun smut #nct jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #NCTU #nct127 #nctdream #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #jaehyun college smut #wayv #nct2020 #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff #nct agnst #nct fluff

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not-all-dead · 3 years

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angstpril day twenty: the silent treatment

CW: mentions of a breakup but that’s pretty much the worst of it

fic under the cut

November 3rd, 142

Lin,

Mom made me promise I’d write to you, so here’s me doing that. Grandma and Grandpa say hi, and they want you to visit soon. School’s boring as ever and I have no friends here which is just great. Thanks for that. At least they have good food here, the chef is pretty amazing. Still, I think I’m going to run away soon, just for the sake of it. Maybe I’ll find a family actually worth keeping. Anyway, I don’t miss you or mom, have fun arresting people or whatever.

February 7th, 143

Lin,

Heard you’re chief now. Congrats I guess. Does mom finally pay attention to you? Who am I kidding, of course she doesn’t. Anyway, I left Grandma and Grandpa’s. I’m part of this cool travelling circus right now, but I think I’m going to try something new soon. It’s been fun though, lots of flying through the air above lava pits and other super dangerous things. I bet I’m having a better time than you are, stuck in the stupid city.

I call Grandma every week or two to keep her updated on what I’m doing, otherwise she’ll freak out and think I’m dead or something. She told me today that mom called her yesterday. Mom said she was going to Gaoling to drop off her things before travelling wherever just like I’m doing. Guess I have more in common with her than I thought. I also guess that means you’ve got the apartment to yourself now, must be nice.

How’s Tenzin? You two still madly in love? Actually, don’t tell me, I don’t really care. Not that you’re going to respond to this at all. Whatever. I’ve got a performance to get to, so bye.

December 19th, 145

Lin,

I wish you’d write back. I’m much older now, and I’d be happy to talk things out with you if you’d respond. But I guess that’s something you have to want too, and clearly you still hate me, so I won’t count on it.

I know I haven’t written in a while. I was on a pirate ship for a while, learning to sail and such, and we didn’t dock often. Any paper we had on board was constantly damp, too, so I didn’t see the point. After that I live in a sandbender commune. It was really interesting to see how different people lived, especially different earthbenders. I tried learning to sandbend but it didn’t go so well.

But that’s all past now. I’m building a city now, a city entirely of metal. I’ve got this wonderful architect named Baatar helping me with it, and thank goodness I do. I honestly don’t know how I’d execute my plans without him. I think I might ask him to marry me. I mean, I really do like him, and the idea of a family sounds so nice. If I did I’d really like for you to be there.

I hope everything in the city is alright. Last time I spoke to mom, a couple years ago now, she said you were still going steady with Tenzin. I don’t know how you two have stayed together this long already, you always seemed so different from one another to me. I guess opposites really do attract, as they always say. I’ll write again soon.

April 2nd, 146

Lin,

It would mean the world to me if you could make it. Please come if you can, I’d really like to see you again.

March 27th, 147

Lin,

You have a nephew! I was bummed that you didn’t come to the wedding, but it’s alright. Maybe you’d like to come and meet Baatar Jr. sometime this year… we’d welcome you here in Zaofu if you did. We’re still working on building up the outer cities, but the central hub where our house is is fully operational. I’d love to show you how it all works, we have metalbender staff in training to operate practically every part of the city. It’s a busy time, with the new baby and all the construction.

Please tell me you and your airhead of a boyfriend are getting married soon. I mean, come on! It’s been ten years already, I don’t see how you can possibly still be “taking it slow”. You make no sense to me sometimes, Lin. But then again, I’m sure you feel the same about me.

Mom’s been visiting Zaofu pretty regularly. She’s coming in next week to meet Baatar Jr. for the first time. She still seems to be holding a grudge against me. You two really are cut from the same cloth, you know. I might try to talk things out with her when she comes this time, or at least set a time sometime soon for us to flush things over. It would be great if you’d come too so we could put all this family drama nonsense behind us.

May 30th, 150

Lin,

I’m disappointed that you still refuse to answer. Honestly, mom and I have spent two years talking and figuring things out. We’re good now, and there were plenty of opportunities we gave you to join us. I’m sorry you’re still so bitter.

Baatar Jr. is three now, you’d know if you ever cared to visit. He hasn’t shown any signs of bending yet, but Baatar is a non-bender and I started bending late so that’s not too surprising. We’ve got another one on the way, due in a couple weeks actually. I think if it’s a boy we’ll name him Huan, and if it’s a girl probably Hei-Ran. Again, I wish you’d come and actually be a part of my kids’ lives, but you seem dead set against it.

Kya actually dropped by not too long ago. I hadn’t seen her in ages, so it was a nice surprise. She says her travels have been going well, and she’d visited practically every place on the planet! I loved my time travelling, but ultimately family life is what suited me best. She said she was heading back to Republic City soon, so maybe she’ll drop in on you, too. Anyway, hope the triads aren’t causing too too much havoc for you, Chief.

January 16th, 151

Lin,

Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I’ve given up. If you’re really that set on giving me the cold shoulder, so be it. I’ll stop writing at all.

Sorry you’re not mature enough to handle this like an adult.

If you were wondering, Huan is very healthy and strong. Baatar Jr. too. Baatar Sr. took ill a while back, but he’s alright now.

I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this when I know you don’t care. Well. Sorry I’m such a bother to you.

August 4th, 156

Lin,

Mom told me what happened with you and Tenzin. He’s an asshole, good on you for wrecking the island. You were always too good for him anyway. I know I haven’t written in a long time, I just didn’t see the point if you kept ignoring me. Maybe now you’ll come and see your family, it might be nice after losing Tenzin.

You’ve got a niece, now, too. And four nephews, the youngest being the twins. They’re only just over a year old now, and Opal recently turned three. I tell them stories about their Aunt Lin, you know. The older boys would really like to meet you, and I’m sure Opal and the twins will too when they’re a little bit more grown up. I want to see you again too, Lin, and I wish you’d at least try to let go of the past. Even just a letter back would make my day.

Hope you’re holding up as Chief there, not too much trouble with the triads or whomever else is committing crime these days.

November 7th, 158

Lin,

Baatar Jr. is now eleven, and seems to be quite the budding architect just like his father. Huan has taken up metalbending little sculptures, so for his eighth birthday he got a little studio just for his art. Opal is five now, and growing up fast. I’ve never seen a five year old read as well as she does. Wing and Wei are still just three, but they seem to enjoy throwing pebbles at one another. I think they’ll be strong benders when they're older.

Mom and I finally made up properly. It’s nice to see her with the kids. She said she wrote to you asking you to come and chat too, but you ignored her. No surprises there. I might stop writing again if you keep this up, so don’t act shocked.

October 21st, 160

Lin,

Mom’s here for a few weeks. Opal turned seven this year, Baatar Jr. thirteen, Huan ten, and the twins five. Wing and Wei invented a game for themselves to help with their metalbending training, they call it “power disk”.

I’m not sure what else to say to you anymore. I’m not sure why I’m even writing this now, after eighteen years. Eighteen years, Lin, and you haven’t even bothered to write back. At least I’ve tried to reach out. But now, I’m done. For real this time. Write if you want, I don’t care. I’m not going to keep sending these anymore.

December 6th, 170

Lin,

Are you alright?! Mom had to tell me about you losing your bending, and she only found out through Katara! I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like. All I can say is that it would undoubtedly be awful.

I miss you, you know. It’s been almost thirty years since we last spoke. I know mom misses you too, and my kids would really like to meet their Aunt. It makes me sad that you’re still so sour about what happened, even after so much time has passed. We’ve both grown and changed as people, and I don’t understand why you can’t see that. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe it’s only me who’s changed at all. Even so, I do miss you, and I wish you’d write. Or visit.

I hope you’re alright, Lin, I really do.

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letterstochristopher · 7 years

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Letters to Chris. April 19th. Day 11.

Hey Buddy,

Dad got home this evening with all your stuff. It’s hard to explain the emotions as I walked down the driveway to the trailer. Fear. Anxiety. Heartache. But also I was so ready to see your things. Things you held. Things you hung up on your walls and wore and slept with. Things that were YOURS. I quickly found your cowboy hat we bought you in South Dakota that you are wearing in one of my favorite childhood photos. The one of you in the cul de sac pretending to be a cowboy, getting ready to draw your fake gun. That’s coming with me.

I never thought I’d find myself looking for a dirty shirt of yours to wear. Ever. But that’s exactly what I did tonight. I just need a shirt that smells like you. What’s weird is everything smells like Febreze. I learned how you had quite the love affair with it (Katrina told me story of how you ran to Walmart for some groceries, and came out with a steak, two packages of Oreos, regular for you and double-stuffed for her, and Febreze. That’s probably the most Chris thing I’ve ever heard. PS…who doesn’t like Double-stuffed Oreos??). I found a few shirts to cuddle with out of your hamper: a camouflage henley, a flannel American Eagle shirt I gave you for Christmas one year (I was so damn happy to see you were still wearing it. Did you think of me whenever you put it on?), your Army PT shirt and a random green tshirt that was on top. I put on the green one for bed and didn’t pay attention to what was on the front until I looked into the bathroom mirror. Big letters across the front say “IRELAND 01.” I’ve been telling Clay since April 9th I thought you would like some ashes released in Ireland, where you always wanted to go since your father was Irish. But I wasn’t 100% sure, so yesterday I asked you to let me know. I believe this is your answer. So I’m taking you to Ireland with me, Little Bro. Mom saw the shirt and she smiled-she had given it to you on your birthday when you were home last month. And apparently you’re wearing it in a pic a friend of yours posted on Facebook. You have a ton of clothes. I think it’s pretty neat that I was able to find the one I gave you and this Ireland one. Even if they do all smell like Febreze and not you.

I’m also cuddling with your firefighter blanket right now. It’s absolutely massive and, from what I hear, one of your favorites. I’ll be sleeping with it, your shirts, your ACU cap that still has your name velcroed on it (so grateful the National Guard allowed us to keep your caps), your stuffed toy puppy you’ve had since childhood and your Coca Cola jacket you wore for work. There’s so much more down there. Dad was able to bring home most of your stuff (just some furniture that couldn’t fit was donated to a local church). I wanted to bring up entire boxes of things to surround myself with in bed. But I know Mom would have a really hard time with that. Before Dad got home, we had the following conversation:

Mom: “Hey, Jenn. I know when your dad gets home, you’re going to want to go through all of Chris’ stuff and take things. But I need you to know that I’m going to need organization. I just will. I can’t just go through his things and not have any order.”

Me: “But I’m going to want to keep some things.”

Mom: “I know. And you will. But I’m just telling you because I know it’s going to be hard for you not to tear through stuff. There are things I need to do. I want to wash his clothes for him. You kids always washed your own clothes, but I never minded doing it. It’s always been a way for me to take care of you all. I want to be able to wash your brother’s clothes. It’ll make me feel like I’m taking care of him.”

And then she started sobbing again, and Nikea and I wrapped our arms around her. She just seems so tiny now. I’m trying to make sure she’s eating. Mom’s always been good about taking care of herself. But she has lost weight, and I worry about her. I know the toll this is all taking on me, and I’m younger. She’s lost so many people, been through so much in her life. She’s a survivor. I know this, but i also know how awful grief and cortisol is on the body. I just need her and Dad to be okay. And obviously Nikea. But Nikea’s always been so tough, has always been more stoic than me. She’s so strong, and doesn’t cry in front of people often; she just has more control. She’s always mostly been a mad crier (the only times she’d cry when we were little is when we’d piss her off). But I’ve seen it a few times since I’ve been home, once because of something I wrote in here about you not being at her wedding. She walked into the dining room where I was sitting and said how she hadn’t even thought about her wedding next year. She’s been so focused on how to get through each day it hadn’t dawned on her that you wouldn’t be there. That realization hit her hard.

And Dad. He’s the most stoic of us all. But I could tell the last four days have especially worn him down. No father should have to pack up his son’s apartment for this reason. As I was poking through your things (don’t tell Mom), he came down to make his rum and diet. “I told your mother I don’t normally drink this late. But tonight felt like a good night to make an exception.” I was grateful to have the company. I missed his strong quiet presence. We talked about you, obviously. About his trip, and all the incredible people who offered to lend helping hands. Your landlord cleaned up your apartment, boxed most of your stuff up and had it all stacked neatly waiting for Dad. Dad said this saved him an entire day’s worth of work. Your landlord also cleaned so Dad wouldn’t have to see reminders of Saturday night. I’m not sure what all he did, but I do know he removed your couch like I said before. That thought still makes me sick (honestly, I’m so surprised I haven’t been physically ill; I’ve been nauseous and dizzy so many times). Then your old supervisor’s wife came to help Dad load up the truck. Did you know your old Coca Cola buddies had a get-together for you? Of course Dad came, and they all shared stories about you. Mom and I called in and Dad put us on speakerphone, and I tried to thank them for everything. I couldn’t get the words out. I hate how I can’t control it. I’ll have to ask Dad what they talked about.

In your stuff, we also found your Harry Potter poster. The Half-Blood Prince. I remember it hanging it your room when you lived at home. Hey remember when Dad would read you Harry Potter before bedtime? You actually discovered Harry Potter before me. I watched it at Mom’s house in Nebraska one night…taking a chance on a movie I’d never seen before in 2002. I instantly fell in love and told you about it. That’s when you informed me there were four books out, and you were reading them. I was so excited. I remember reading to you on the bottom bunk of your bed one night, and trying to do the English accents. I remember like it was yesterday. It was fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix, and it was the part with the boggart and Mrs. Weasley. Remember, when Harry walked in on her trying to get rid of it and it kept transforming into her family’s dead bodies because she was so terrified of losing her loved ones? That’s fucking ironic. But regardless, I love that memory. My attempts at the English accents were I’m sure awful. You didn’t say anything until I asked, but you admitted you preferred I read without them. I was so disappointed. And hey, do you remember when you told me Sirius Black died before I finished Order of the Phoenix? I was so so mad at you.

The one thing I can’t stand is your gun being here. THE gun. The police released everything to Dad…your phone, your wallet, the glock…everything sealed neatly in evidence bags. Dad said he didn’t want to make any hasty decisions so took everything they gave him. I wonder if the clothes you were wearing are here, too. I doubt they would have given Dad those, actually. For obvious reasons. (I got so scared while unloading your couch pillows. I was praying I wouldn’t see anything on them…but then I saw a big sticky stain. I looked closer-I just had to. But I think it was food. Thank Jesus). But the gun. I hate it. I fucking hate it. That gun killed my baby brother. It took you away from us forever. Dad said that it wasn’t the glock that did it. It was you. And while know he’s right, I still hate it. Maybe if you didn’t have guns you would have tried another way. But then maybe they would have gotten to you in time. Or maybe you would have suffered. I guess it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. You’re gone.

I talked to our real mom today (I always hate saying that-we have two real moms, but you know what I mean). She had left a message while I was sleeping, and she sounded so damn sad it scared me. I mean, I know she’s going to be sad. But now I’m so afraid for anyone who is battling depression, whether chronic or situational. She said she has been reading up on Reactive Attachment Disorder because of my first post, and I could just tell she was blaming herself. I called her back, and Mom and Nikea came into the room and we all talked on speakerphone. It was so good to speak with her. She was reminiscing about how you were such a sweet and sensitive little boy. I remember. And I know she, like me, wants nothing more than to go back, hold that little boy close and tell him everything will be okay. Back when you were CJ, wore your humongous glasses and loved to be read to every night. She has the biggest heart, and loves us all so much. I know you loved her, too. Guilt is a horrible thing, and you can beg someone to forgive themselves until you’re blue in the face, but ultimately it’s up to them. I just hope and pray she can realize that she, like you, is so worthy of love. That has always been our biggest struggle…yours, hers and mine. I also talked to Grandpa Ward and briefly to Jeanie. Grandpa was your biggest cheerleader. It was wonderful to hear his voice. I haven’t talked with him in so long. It’s crazy how time gets away from you, and before you realize it two years have passed since you spoke with someone. I promised him that would never happen again. If I’ve learned anything from you, it’s to value every second my loved ones spend on this earth. How easy is it for us to take each other’s presence for granted. I am determined to make sure I have no more regrets when it comes to the people I love. I can’t go through this again.

On Saturday, Mom and Dad are driving up to Mexico to tell Bethany what happened. Even though she’s mentally handicapped, she understands the concept of death. Mom is scared she may hurt herself if she knows the whole story, so said she may just say you had cancer. I mean, you basically did. Mental illness eats away at you just like cancer, slowly killing you. So yeah. It works. I’m trying to decide if I can go with them, or if I should go to Sedalia and visit Grandma, Grandpa, Sue, Sayre and Sayre’s new baby. I haven’t seen Bethany since Christmas, but it’s going to be awful telling her our brother died. I don’t know what to do. I dread how she’s going to obsess over what happened. It’s been years, and she still brings up our dog, Toby, dying. I just know she’s going to keep signing “CJ died. CJ died. CJ died.” And I’ll tell her to stop, but she won’t. She just won’t understand that we won’t want to constantly talk about how you’re gone. I’ll just have to be patient, and understand she doesn’t want to hurt anyone by bringing it up nonstop. I just have such a low frustration tolerance right now.

I’m still angry with you. I don’t know when that’s going to go away. I know it’s a stage of grief, and I’m assuming it’s more pronounced in this kind of situation. I’ve been reading how suicide survivors experience an extreme number of difficult emotions trying to make sense of their loved one’s actions. The book I’m reading now is helping shed light on it. But there’s not a lot out there on this. It’s a difficult subject to talk about. Who wants to discuss suicide? But it HAS to be talked about. People always talk about breast cancer. They have fundraisers for it. What about what killed you and thousands upon thousands of others every year? Why doesn’t society talk more about that? What happens to the families after. What they feel. The devastation. The confusion and anger. The guilt. It’s eating me up inside. The unrelenting brutal heartache of knowing you were sitting at home thinking about things that tore you apart. The constant questioning. I keep telling myself you weren’t miserable all the time. You had moments of happiness. But it wasn’t enough.

Do you know what’s really cool, though? We’ve had several of your friends reach out. I just want to hug all of them. They loved you and miss you, and I don’t know if they realize how much they help with their sweet words about you. Man, you were loved. Did you know? But now I’m asking myself if you really loved ME. You didn’t talk to me about so many things. You would say you were struggling, but wouldn’t give me specifics. In every text that I said “I love you,” you didn’t repeat it. I just can’t stop wondering now. Did you love me? Did you?? I know I had forgotten your birthday…I was so focused on trying to solve what was going on with my health, all the while trying to find jobs and move out of our friends’ basement, that I literally have been battling my own fears and major depression this past year. I don’t forget birthdays. And yours AND Dad’s slipped my mind. That’s never happened before. But now I can’t forgive myself. I just can’t. I know that’s not why you did it. But I still hate myself for it. I’m so sorry, Chris. I just need to know that you love me and forgive me. Please.

Love you, Buddy. Now and always. I’m so sorry.

#suicide #grief #grief and loss #griefsupport #suicidesurvivors

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