#don’t look at me or you’re uninvited to my birthday party | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vodika-vibes · 7 months

Text

Eternity

Summary: After being 'blessed' with Eternity on your 12th birthday, you're convinced that you're never going to find happiness. 500 years later, Kix disagrees.

Word Count: 3816

Pairing: Kix x Vampire!Reader

Warnings: None? I don't think. Maybe some angst

A/N: So...this was supposed to be a Sleeping Beauty story...and I guess I took some aspects of Sleeping Beauty? Maybe.

Divider by saradika

“Why are you here? You were not invited to this party!” Your father shouts to the violet clad woman standing under the flower arch that your uncle specifically made for your 12th birthday party.

The woman looks surprised, and then something cruel crosses her features, and you take a half step towards your father, “It’s alright, there’s food enough for everyone still.”

“No, it is not alright.” Your father says sternly, “It’s rude to show up uninvited.”

“It is more rude to kick someone out without first offering food and drink,” You counter as you lift your chin, “She came here to celebrate, father, the least we can do is allow her to do so.”

Your father’s face twists in rage, and he throws his hands up, and stalks away, “Do what you want.”

You exhale slowly, and then you quickly build a plate of some tasty treats and a glass of meade, and you head over to the strange woman, and you offer her both food and drink, “I apologize for my father. If things don’t go exactly according to plan he gets irritated.”

“You have my gratitude, little princess,” The woman replies as she takes the food and drink, “For both the food and drink, and for inviting me to stay.”

“Oh, no. It’s the very least I can do.” You reply with a bright smile up at the woman, “Your dress is beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a shade of purple so vibrant.” You add brightly.

The woman laughs, it’s a harsh noise that makes your hair stand on end, and you can’t help but feel like you’re walking on a very thin wire, with destruction looming on both sides. Though you’re nothing if not polite, so you keep a smile on your face, and you hide just how unsettled you are.

“You are far too kind, little Princess,” The woman says, once she’s calmed her laughter, her smile is sharp and you can’t help but notice that her lips look painted with blood, “Tell me, child, is your father always so angry?”

“I rarely see him without a scowl on his face,” You admit, “I he never speaks so much as yells. It’s why mother left.”

“And yet she didn’t take you with her?”

You keep the smile on your face through sheer force of will, even as the woman prods a still open wound on your heart, “Mother…mother did what she thought was best, I’m sure.”

“Hm…have you not seen her since she left, little one?”

Your face falls without your permission, “I’m sure she will. It’s…it’s still early. I’m sure my mother didn’t forget my birthday.” You say quietly.

The woman lightly touches your head, and you’re unable to stop your tremor. “Are you afraid, little one?”

“...you’re dangerous.” You whisper, “I don’t know how, or even why I think that. But you are.”

The woman smiles even wider, “You see much for one so young, little princess.” She coos, as her long nails trail against your cheek, “Your mother sent me here in her stead. She is sorry that she cannot come to you, little one, but she sends her love.”

“I miss her,” You whisper, “Father is so much angrier with her gone…”

“Do not fret so, little princess. All will be well. You’ll see.” Somehow, somehow that sounds like a threat, and you shudder as she taps you on the cheek with one long fingernail, “Now, go and enjoy your party.”

The woman vanishes into the crowd of adults, and somehow, even though you never looked away from her, you’re unable to see her again. You’re drawn from your anxious thoughts when your grandmother draws you into a conversation with one of her friends.

And though you don’t forget about the strange violet woman, you are able to put her out of your immediate anxieties for the next several hours. You get through the dinner, and the cake, and the presents (dresses and heels and jewelry designed for a woman, not a child), and it’s just before your father dismisses everyone from the party when the woman appears again.

She stands taller than everyone else at the party, somehow, though you’re sure that she was only a little bit taller than you when you first met her. Her hand flows like ink down her back, and, as you watch her, the violet designs on her gown shift and change, taking on different forms.

“Your Majesty,” She says, her voice smooth and cool, like cold water over stones, “You have not allowed me to give my gifts to the little princess.” She coos. She pins you in place with fathomless black eyes, and you want to scream, to run, to hide…but your muscles seize and you can’t move.

“I suppose, since you did bring a gift.” Your father grumbles, as he places his hand on your shoulder.

“Oh no, your majesty. I said gifts, not gift.” The woman replies, her smile sharp as a blade, “First, to the Little Princess,” She walks over to you, and presses a light finger against your forehead, “I grant you the gift of eternity.”

Pain lances through you, starting at the top of your head and working down to your feet. Your legs give out on you, and you fall to your knees, and you hear screaming…screaming you realize is coming from you.

Everything becomes too loud, the scents become too strong, and you’re so cold…like you’ve never been warm a day in your life, and you’ll never be warm again.

“What did you do to my daughter!?” Your father demands, his hand is on your back and you just sob because everything hurts so, so much. It feels like millions of white hot knives are piercing your skin where your father is touching you.

“I granted her eternity,” The woman says cruelly. “She’ll age for another 10 years…and then she’ll stop, and she’ll be 22 forever.” There’s a pause, and then a quiet laugh, “Tell me, Your Majesty, have you never heard of Vampires?”

“That’s impossible,” Your Grandmother says sharply from where she’s smoothing your hair out of your face, “Everyone knows that a Vampire stops aging the moment they’re turned. You said-”

“Yes, yes. I just found the idea of being eternally 12 completely repulsive.” The violet woman replies blithely, “Now, where was I?” You manage to look up at the woman, even as you lean heavily against your grandmother.

“We’ll find a cure, sweetheart.” Your father promises, his voice ringing loudly in your ears.

There’s a snap, “Oh, yes. The second part! How foolish of me.”

“If you think I’m going to allow you anywhere near my daughter-”

“Oh. No, no. This second gift isn’t for her,” The Dark Woman says with a laugh, “It’s for everyone else.” There’s a moment of silence, “You’re not going to help the Little Princess, your majesty. No one is. For you will no longer be living.”

There’s a swell of magic that makes your skin prickles, and then the screams start. All across the garden party, men and women scream as vines burst from the ground, twinning around them. You get thrown back by a pair of massive vines as they twine around your father and grandmother, and you watch, horrified, as slowly the people start turning into plants.

It happens in a matter of seconds.

And the next thing you know, you’re alone in the garden with the Dark Woman, “There,” She says, “Perfect.”

And then she casts her gaze to you, you’re so weak you’re barely able to move, and pain still races through your body, but even so you try to push yourself up to a sitting position. “Hm…the transformation is going to take a few days…and I don’t want to have to deal with you…”

She grabs your shoulder harshly, and then there’s a weird sensation of falling before you’re thrown onto a stone floor. “I bring a gift, your lordship,” The Dark Woman crows.

“A child?” A deep male voice questions, “I have no desire for any childre-” He stops mid-sentence, “What have you done?” His voice is silky smooth, and somehow hurts less than the woman’s voice.

“I turned her…well, in a manner of speaking.”

There’s a snarl of fury, and the dark woman takes half a step back, and you feel a surge of dark glee, “You turned a child?”

“She will age over the next ten years,” the Dark Woman promises, “She’ll stop aging at 22 years old, but she is one of you.”

There’s the sound of heels on stone, and gentle hands pull you into a lap, “Husband, you have granted this witch far too much freedom,” A woman says quietly, before gentle fingers card through your hair, “It’s going to be alright, dear one. We’ll take care of you. You’re family now.”

You turn your head into the smooth silk of the woman’s gown, and you hear much heavier footsteps, “You are quite right, my dear.” The man says, his voice low, “It looks like I have to set this right.”

Strong arms slide under you, and you find yourself secure in the arms of the woman who was comforting you, “Then, I leave you to your business, husband. I must tend to our new child.”

You drift off to sleep when you hear a door click open, and then shut behind you. The last thing you hear before sleep totally claims you, is the soft voice of the woman carrying you, “Fret not, little one. That woman will never harm another person.”

******************

It’s been 500 years since the day you were turned, and you’re comfortable with the life you lead. You’re happy enough, you suppose, if not a little bit lonely.

You remained with your mother and father for several decades, while you got the hang of the whole vampire thing, but you’ve been wandering on your own for over 400 years since then.

You tend to move every 20 years out of necessity, though you’ve never hidden what you are from the people around you. It just gets tiring, watching the people around you age, and die, while you remain the same.

Plus, no one ever mentions the boredom of eternity.

Over the last 400 years you’ve been a lawyer, a singer, a writer, a musician, a blacksmith, a detective, a teacher…and everything in between. You’ve learned instruments, art, and crafts and- well, eternity is a very long time, after all.

This time, you’ve decided to be a doctor. You went to school and you took the classes and you got the degree, and now…here you are, working the night shift at a hospital in Mandalore.

Mandalore which used to be the Kingdom of Sirid…your father’s kingdom.

Not that anyone remembers Sirid…mother told you once that it was a continuation of the Dark Woman’s curse. She also mentioned that maybe it was a good thing. After all, no one is going to hunt down the princess of a kingdom that they don’t remember existed.

For what little it’s worth, you actually like Mandalore, and you hold no malice towards the Royal Family. But then, you have had 500 years to deal with this.

Your gaze drifts towards the palace, lit up even though it’s nearly midnight, and you sigh as you tilt your head back, your eyes closing. The breeze feels nice against your skin, even though you don’t get hot anymore.

You hear the door click open, and light footfalls on the tiled roof. They hesitate a moment, and then continue towards you with slightly more purpose. “Enjoying the view, Baar’ur?”

You hum thoughtfully, and turn your head to regard the man standing next to you, “It is a nice view.” You admit, “But no, I’m enjoying the breeze.”

“It is a nice night,” Kix agrees as he leans against the railing next to you, his gaze locked on your face, “Hard night?” He asks.

“No harder than usual. Some people are funny about having someone like me working on them.” You add with a wry smile.

“Then they’re dumb,” Kix replies, “You’ve probably forgotten more than anyone in this hospital knows.”

You laugh quietly, “Well, I am very old.”

“Not that old.”

“I’m over 500 years old, Kix.” You remind him.

He grins at you, “Yeah, like I said.”

You laugh and turn so you’re leaning against the railing as well, “I suppose, in the grand scheme of things, I’m not that old.”

“Exactly. How old is your…ah…sire?”

“Oh, well over 2000. But I’m more his-his foundling,” You explain, “I wasn’t turned like normal vampires. I was ‘blessed’ with Eternity.”

“Doesn’t sound like much of a blessing,” Kix replies dryly.

“Mm. It’s not. But I make due.” You tilt your head back and look up at the stars, “Oh, was there something you needed Kix?” You ask.

“Wanted to make sure you’re alright.” He admits after a moment of silence, “That family wasn’t very nice to you.”

“They’re allowed. People still tell horror stories about my people…and with good reason. We’re not exactly safe, Kix.” You point out.

“You’ve never hurt a person in your life,” Kix replies, “I’m sure of it.”

“How can you know?” You ask, amusement clear in your voice.

“I’m pretty good at reading people.” He says easily, “And I don’t see you ever willingly hurting another person, even if you can.”

You laugh softly, “500 years, and you're the first person to ever be able to read me like that.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his grin takes on a smug air.

“Don’t be smug, Kix. It’s not a good look.” You sniff as you bump him with your shoulder.

“Everything I do is a good look,” He corrects as he bumps you back, allowing his shoulder to linger against you, “Because I’m gorgeous.”

“And so very modest.” You add dryly.

“Modesty is overrated,” Kix says loftily, though his grin fades slightly, “I’m really the first person in 500 years to be able to read you?”

You shrug, “Yeah. I was pretty good at shielding my true thoughts before I was turned, and then it became easier after.”

“You’ve had friends before though.”

“Sure. And then they grow up, get old, die…and I have to start over again. New place, new friends…still no one actually knew me.” You watch him for a moment, something achingly sad in your eyes, “Not like you, at least.”

“Sounds lonely.” Kix says after a moment, something like longing in his voice.

You exhale slowly, and turn your gaze back towards the sky, “You get used to it. You can get used to anything.” You close your eyes for a moment, and then straighten, “Alright, time for me to get back to work, I’m afraid. I’ll talk to you later, Kix.”

“Yeah. See you then.” Kix replies, sounding slightly distracted.

You finish your shift with little trouble, the majority of people who come to the hospital know that there’s a vampire on the staff and they don’t have a problem with it.

And once you hand over your patients to the dayshift doctor, you head to the locker room and pull on the protective clothing that shields you from the sun, and you leave for the day.

You make a stop at the markets, to pick up your weekly order of blood, sent by your mother, and then you head home.

The blood goes in the fridge, to keep it fresh, and then you feed your tooka, and finally you hop in the shower, to wash the hospital off of your skin, and finally you slide into bed. Thick black-out curtains keep the sun from even creeping into your room, and so you’re able to sleep peacefully without having to worry about any burns.

It’s later, much later, that day when you finally wake up and start your day.

It’s your night off, which means you’ll spend the evening doing all sorts of random things. You have the recording from the mid-day Yoga classes that you prefer, and then you can work on your tapestry for an hour or two…

You’re about to start your recording, when there’s a knock on the door. You glance at the chrono (a gift from a wizard, which shows exactly where the sun is located at that specific point in time) and you walk over to the door and open it a crack, making sure to keep yourself behind the door.

You blink in surprise at the man standing at your door, “Kix?”

“Hey,” He grins at you, “Can I come in?” You open the door a little more and let him into your home, “I brought some food, I know you don’t get anything from it, but you can still taste it, right?”

You shut the door once he’s inside, “I can, so long as it’s spicy. Or sweet.” You motion for him to move further into your home, “Sorry for the mess, I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Yeah, well…I wanted to surprise you.” Kix replies as he steps over your Tooka, “Is that a tapestry?”

“Yeah, I’ve been working on it for over 150 years now. And I’m not done yet.” You explain as you push the tapestry back to where it belongs. “It’s going to be epic when I do finish it though.”

Kix follows you into the kitchen, and sets the bags of food on the table, and watches as you hurry around grabbing plates and utensils, and he smiles when you pull a bottle of water out of the fridge for him, “You keep stuff in the house for other people?”

“Yeah, of course. Not a lot though.” You admit as you set everything on the table, and then slide into one of the chairs, “I am surprised to see you, though. I would think that you’d want to spend your free time with your brothers.”

“I spent plenty of time with them,” Kix says easily, “I wanted to spend time with you.” His gaze drifts around the room, lingering on the hundreds of pictures of you and different people, “So…any of those pictures of you with a boyfriend?” He asks.

You laugh and shake your head, “No. No boyfriends.”

“Girlfriend, then.” Kix teases gently.

“No, no girlfriend either.”

“Wait, so, you’re telling me that at 500 years old, you’ve never had a romantic partner?” Kix asks, surprised.

“Nope, never.” You serve the food, allowing Kix to take the majority, “I mean, it’s not like I’ve not considered it. It just…it doesn’t seem very fair, you know?”

“Not really.” He replies.

“Right,” You shake your head, “I’m going to stay 22…forever. I’m never going to grow old. So if I enter relationships, I’m destined to have to watch them die. And they have to watch me stay the same, forever.”

“You’re right. That doesn’t sound very fair,” Kix murmurs quietly, “Have you considered turning your partner?”

“...I don’t think you realize just how long forever is, Kix.” You point out.

“Sure I do. Forever is forever. I get that. But wouldn’t forever be better with a partner. Someone you know, you trust?”

“Until he grows to resent me for taking his life from him? Or he decides that he’s not that interested in me?” You shake your head.

Kix taps a rhythm on the table, and then he stands and turns your chair so it’s not facing the table and he moves his chair so that when he sits, his knees are pressed tightly against yours, and then he takes your cold hands in his, “Do you know why I go out of my way to talk to you every time I see you?” He asks as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles.

You flash the smallest smile, “I have a pretty good idea,” You admit.

“Hm. Not good enough. I do this because I am completely in love with you. With everything about you.” Kix says, “I love how kind you are, even to people who hate you for what you are. I love how patient you are with people who are afraid and lashing out.”

“Kix-”

He releases one of your hands and lightly brushes his thumb against your cheek, and then over your lips, “You’re so beautiful,” Kix murmurs, “And it’s not just physical beauty, though you have that in spades too. That’s not what caught my eye first.”

“What do you-?”

“My first day at the hospital, you greeted me with a smile. You explained who you are, and what you are, and you gave me the grand tour. You were so kind to me, to everyone that crossed your path.” Kix explains, “And we ran across a man who hurled nothing but abuse at you, and you handled him so gently and so caringly, that he broke down sobbing. You said, ‘we have to see people on what might very well be the worst day of their lives, we can afford a little kindness’.”

“...I said that?” You ask.

“You did,” Kix answers, “And I fell in love with you at that moment.”

You stare at him, your eyes wide.

“And every day after that, I fall in love a little bit more. With every story you tell, with every word you speak, with every action you take.”

“Kix…”

“I want eternity with you.” Kix says seriously, “I’ve thought about it, I’ve spoken to my brothers about it. And eternity won’t be terrible if I’m walking it with you.” He pauses for a moment, and a wry smile crosses his face, “I also really, really want to kiss you.”

You laugh softly, and his other hand comes up to cradle your face. “How about we make a deal?”

“What kind of deal?” Kix asks.

“Two years.” You say as your hands come up to cradle his face, and he almost purrs at the feel of your hands against his skin, “Give me two years as my boyfriend, and if, at the end of two years, you still feel the same, then I will agree to turn you.”

He thinks about it for a minute, and then his gaze snaps to your face, “Deal. Two years. But, cyare, I’m not going to change my mind.”

“So you say,” You reply with a small smile.

His smile becomes soft, and he leans in and very gently presses his lips against yours. And then he kisses you again and again, each kiss becoming more heated than the last.

Until he pulls you onto his lap and tangles his hands in your hair, and crashes his lips against yours like he needs your lips against his to breathe. And the food remains on the table, forgotten by the both of you.

**********

Two years and six months later, you finally fulfill your promise to turn him, two days after the start of your honeymoon.

#star wars #tcw #clone medic kix x reader #kix x reader #star wars au #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction

40 notes · View notes

not-sure-what-im-feeling · 6 months

Text

Complimentary Chapter 2

Logan's appreciation day is upon us, and... turns out he doesn't like what's going on.

Note:

This chapter does have a swear in it (the f-word), so apologies in advance. More apologies for all of the The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals references I make. I had it on the brain when I was writing this. Also sorry for the fact that it's way after Logan's "birthday". I started writing it on his birthday, and just kept not finishing it. Here it is though!

Read on AO3

“Don’t forget, Logan, speak up. You’re just as important as the rest of them. Make sure your voice is heard.” Aedus said to Logan before he left.

“I’ll do my best. Thank you, Aedus.” He responded, and sank out of his room. Aedus returned to a shadow, the faint glow emitting from his orange light disappearing.

Logan rose up into his spot beside the stairwell to find that none of the others were actually there. To add on to that, all the lights in the area were off. A glance at his watch verified that it was the designated meeting time, and though he knew that on occasion one or two of them would appear later, typically Thomas would be there. Just as he was about to attempt an investigation further, and as Logan’s eyes were just beginning to adjust to the lighting, the lights flew on, assaulting Logan’s eyes. He blinked away the bright lights, and saw the living room decorated with indigo streamers and ribbons and such. A banner along the back wall writing out “Happy Birthday Logan!”. The others were all in their regular spots, and they all called out “Happy birthday” in unison, and even Virgil seemed happy to be there.

“Logan!” Thomas called to him, “How are you doing?”

“I would suppose that I am doing fine, all things considered.” Logan said, “Especially seeing as I thought something had happened to you all.”

“Oh, excuse us for that.” Patton said, “I wanted to throw you a little something for your big day and Roman–”

“Yes, well, I wanted to give you a surprise party. Clearly it didn’t take.” Roman said, “Seriously, you were worse than that eccentric emo over there.” He jabbed a thumb in Virgil’s direction. “I tried to surprise him last year and he attacked me.” Roman put a hand to his chest, looking aghast. Then he muttered an added insult under his breath: “For such a dramatic pessimist, I didn’t know he’d hate my flair to that extent.”

“You did show up in my room uninvited, Ramen. And it’s not like I hate an added flair. I just hate yours.” Virgil snapped back.

“Hm, and do you know that Halloween is over? You can stop dressing like you get everything from Dead, Slashed and Beyond.”

“Moving on to my clothing, really? You know this is how I always dress. And that’s real rich coming from the constant LARPer. I don’t know if you got lost, but this isn’t the renaissance faire.”

Roman let out a high pitched scoff, and moved to keep the fight going, until Patton spoke up. “Alright kiddos, how about we save the argument for later? This is Logan’s day after all, and you two had better not make a mess of it.” Patton scolded them through grit teeth, and left them with one last stern glare before returning to his toothy grin.

“Moving on…” Thomas said apprehensively, “Logan, I know you don’t like the whole ‘birthday thing’–”

“Yes,” Logan interjected, “I don’t like it. We are not real, thus we were never born, and we do not have ‘birthdays’. But please, continue.”

“Uh, right, well, I know you don’t like the birthday thing, but it is the anniversary of you– your character’s first appearance, so we threw you a little party!”

“Hmph. So was there ever actually a meeting for us to discuss, or was it all staged so that I would actually show up to your guys' party?”

“Welp, you, uh, you called us on our bluff!” Patton said, voice getting a little higher than it was before as he fidgeted with his hands. “This week's meeting was a bit of a… fib, but we’re all still here! Just for a different reason!”

Logan snorted a bit. “Thank you, everyone, for the thought. But if we aren’t actually here to do any work, I’ll be on my way.” He looked around, but while Patton protested his leaving and Thomas looked a bit upset at all the matter, no one fought him on wanting to go. It was his own volition, and Roman and Virgil seemed… preoccupied with their own silent argument. So Logan, now convinced that no one would stop him if he left, sank out, leaving the rest in an awkward silence.

Logan rose up into his room, seething from the events of the day. Aedus wasted no time in appearing just as he had the first time round, though with less startled introductions. His orange light cast Logan in an odd glow, the shadows on his face still with that orange reflection of the lighting.

“Hey, Logan, are you doing alright?” Aedus asked softly. “You don’t look too happy.”

“That’s because I’m not.” Logan snapped at him, before catching himself. “Apologies. I’m sorry, Aedus, I… I don’t know what came over me. I’m not typically like this.”

“I know, Logan. And don’t worry about it! You’re upset, and I think it’s a good thing you’re letting yourself feel things. You are the one who goes on about not repressing. I’m proud of you.” Aedus grinned. “So, what did they do this time?”

Logan sighed. “They threw a party. It’s not exactly something to be upset about, but of course Roman had to take everything too far.”

“So you’re mad at Roman…” Aedus said, half talking to himself.

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say ‘mad’, but that’s a fair statement.” Aedus squinted at him, before Logan continued on. “Alright! I’m mad! Happy?”

“Of course not,” Aedus said as calmly as he could, “They upset you. Why should I be happy?”

“You were correct, were you not? I’m mad. I’m angry. I would expect you to have some sense of pride from that, would you not?”

“Logan… I’m not Roman or someone. Yeah, I’m right, but I care about you.” Aedus said with vigor. “You deserve to feel–”

“No, I don’t. I am Logic. Anger will only mess up everything. It’s the same with all… feelings.” Logan said the word ‘feelings’ as though it was the name of a truly disgusting creature, one that brought distaste by the very mention of it. “All of them make me fail at my duty. So no, I don’t ‘deserve to feel’. I reject the notion.”

Aedus huffed for a moment. “Well alright. But you can’t just deny feeling them. Pardon my language, but that’s fucking absurd. You know full well what repression does, so why bottle it up? Don’t you just want to let it out? What do you want, Logan?”

“What I want is to do my job properly. But…” Logan sighed, “If you think I should do something about my– emotions, then I suppose I will. What would you suggest?”

Logan sounded so tired in his question, as if he’d had his moment of anger, only for it to all come falling down as he fell with it, collapsing into a heaping pile of his own failed emotional dam. The bags under his eyes seemed so much more obvious, the orange lighting coming from Aedus casting his face into solemn shadows. His shoulders sagged and he shut his eyes, allowing himself this moment of reprieve. Aedus moved his hand over Logan’s, and Logan looked down at the feeling of the warmth. It wasn’t like he could fully feel it, even their handshake had been more along the lines of Aedus’ shadow passing over Logan’s physical form, but still, Logan could feel a warmth on the area that Aedus’ hand went over.

“Just let it out. Shout, punch something, whatever it is you need to do, let it out! Everyone deals with emotions in different ways, and we just need to figure out yours.” Aedus said, “I’ll help you through it.”

“...Alright.” Logan said, nodding to Aedus. “Where do we start?”

Taglist: @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @dearqueerheart @thegoldenduckie @greenshirtguystuff @nico-the-overlord

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #logan sanders #orange sanders #orange side #ts logan #ts orange #ts orange side #my writing #writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction

19 notes · View notes

goldenempyrean · 2 years

Note

sick natasha on reader’s birthday using the prompts “I promise I’m fine, lets just enjoy your party.” and “It doesn’t matter what day it is. If you don’t feel good, I need you to tell me.”

Uninvited Guest

Sorry theres been abit of a gap between posting. I still have afew more drabbles to get done :) this hasnt been edited so sorry about that :p

░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░

“Get your ass to bed Romanoff.” Tony scoffed, looking over at Natasha who sat slumped over the bar, her head in her hands. Over the booming music and loud chatter of people she hadnt even heard him approach.

“Fuck off,” She hissed, not having the energy to think of a petty remark.

“Seriously you look like shit. Wouldn’t it be better for all of us if you went to bed?” Tony insisted, pouring himself another whisky.

“How does that benefit me, plus this is my girlfriends party, theres no way I’m gonna miss it for some sniffles.” Natasha said, grabbing a tissue to discreetly blow her nose.

“For one, it means that I’m not going to catch whatever cooties you have going on over there.” He gestured with his hand, before softening his tone, “Plus, you really don’t look well Natasha, I don’t think Y/N is gonna be very happy if they find out about this… Oh.” His sentence trailer off, staring at something just over Natasha’s shoulder.

None of them had noticed you approach them and so you had caught the last bit of their conversation, “You don’t think I’m gonna be happy about what?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at Tony who threw up his hands defensively before quickly scooting away.

“Whats up, my love?” You came from behind Natasha and took the seat infront of her, “You’ve been awfully quiet all night.”

“Everything’s fine, Tony was just winding you up Hh everything Hhh is fi- Hh’iiitshhiew! Hh’ishtoo!” Natasha ducked her head into her elbow and turned away from you as she muffled the sneezes which she had tried so desperately to holdback.

“You’re sick…” You said as the realisation hit you. Reaching out to hold her hand, sighing as another thought clinked in you mind. Just how long had she hidden this from you?

Natasha shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. She hated that she had pulled you away from your party, especially for her stupid cold, “I promise I’m fine, lets just enjoy your party.” She sniffled damply as she finished her sentence.

“That can wait Natasha, have long have you felt ill?” You asked, not willing to back down from this.

Nat realised that you weren’t going to give this up so offered a quiet answer, “Just a day or so. I didn’t want to tell you, todays your birthday, this is your party. Today is meant to be about you.”

There was a small moment of silence as you thought of the right words to say, “It doesn’t matter what day it is. If you don’t feel good, I need you to tell me.”

You stood up and went behind her, pulling her against your chest, earning yourself a noise of contempt from her as she whispered s quiet, “Ok.”

In that moment Stark came wandering back, giving you a knowing look down at Nat who had her eyes closed as she rested her head against you, safely tucked in your arms.

238 notes · View notes

mgufm · 1 year

Photo

5:30 PM — SEPTEMBER 12, 2022 the red and green club @ the son’s residences

the doorbell rings with the first guests of the night. jiyeon slams her drawer shut, locks it, then puts the key in her bedside table. she opens the front door and frowns at what she sees. "minjun," she greets sourly, "and the detective's kid. please, come in."

having brought ( brainchild ) along without telling anyone, minjun motions for his uninvited guest to go in first. before minjun can take his first step past the threshold, jiyeon grabs his arm.

"what do you think you're doing?"

minjun frees his arm from her grasp. "whatever i want," he says, "now that jisoo's gone. place looks great, jiyeon. and look." minjun brandishes a bottle of wine from the convenience store, the same brand found in room 308 after the fire, "we brought wine."

6 PM

some time before dinner, while everyone's standing around, chatting, and waiting for mina to arrive, yua borrows miyoung's phone to make a call. she returns the phone minutes later.

"miyoung," jiyeon calls a few minutes later, waving her over, a glass of wine in hand and a gracious smile on her face.

miyoung approaches jiyeon and yua, who had been engrossed in conversation moments before.

"i have something to show you," jiyeon says. she walks ahead of yua and miyoung. yua curls her arm around miyoung's and clutches her wrist in a death grip. the three of them disappear up the stairs. jiyeon makes her way to jisoo's room, locking the door behind them.

"you were with my brother while he was with mina," jiyeon says,

"wait, jiyeon, what—"

"i found his fucking burner phone here in his room. yua saw the texts in your phone. you're lucky we're the ones who found those messages, miyoung.

"you know how bad she's going to look if she knows," jiyeon says. looking at the floor, miyoung nods. "does she know?"

"no," miyoung answers, "jisoo said she didn't."

jiyeon walks closer to miyoung, seeming to tower over her. "you better fucking make sure she doesn't find out," jiyeon points a finger at her. she pokes miyoung’s chest as if to punctuate her sentence, with so much force that miyoung finds herself out of breath after jiyeon leaves the room.

"what the fuck, miyoung?" yua whispers harshly, following in jiyeon's trail.

7 PM

the dinner goes on without incident, with wine glasses clinked jovially and friendly conversations had. after dinner, with everyone scattered around the house, drinks in hand, jiyeon and mina are never seen far apart.

8:30 PM

some time after dinner, while everyone talks to everyone else, siyeon sits by herself near the exit to the balcony. a few moments later, she sees mingze come in, appearing like he's wiping tears from his eyes. siyeon decides to leave him alone. a few moments after, ( brainchild ) walks in through the same entrance looking perfectly fine.

siyeon goes up to ( brainchild ) and asks if they know why mingze seemed upset. "i don't know," ( brainchild ) shrugs, "he said there was something my dad should know, but he didn't tell me anything, then he left." siyeon eyes him, her expression inscrutable. quickly, the two of them become engrossed in a comfortable conversation. after some time, siyeon leads them back out into the balcony, where they sit on a bench, away from earshot and prying eyes, and continue their conversation. siyeon wastes no time, talking quickly,

"there is something i think your dad should know."

"what?"

"i'll tell you, but you have to promise this won't trace back to me. i won't admit to telling you anything. i won't come in to change my statement or anything. you have to say you found out some other way."

( brainchild ) nods. siyeon hesitates, but she goes on to tell ( brainchild ) that on the night of jisoo's birthday at his home, on june 7, 2022, he saw jisoo with mingze's girlfriend, miyoung, outside the house while the party was ongoing. siyeon claims that she ran away as soon as she saw a glimpse of jisoo and miyoung, with their hips and lips locked by a bush in a dark corner, and that she didn't tell anyone what she saw.

"but there's something else," siyeon looks around, as if checking to see that nobody can see them, "mingze saw them too. he didn't see me but i saw him. we were looking at the same thing. he was still there when i left. i know he didn't put that in his statement. if it's a... murder, like the detective thinks, it gives him motive, doesn't it?" after making ( brainchild ) promise one more time that they won't tell anyone where they learned this information, and after making them promise to tell their father, siyeon leaves, looking around consciously to ensure that no one saw her talking to the detective's kid.

9 PM

lively music plays while everyone nurses drinks and conversations. the cheery chatter is interrupted by muffled shouting from the veranda.

"what aren't you telling me? we don't keep secrets from each other, yua. what the hell?" nika says, frustrated. "i want to go home now. you're taking me home now."

yua tries to hold nika's arm, but nika jerks it away. "let's just leave when everyone else does."

"whatever. you can do what you want. i'm going," nika walks away, thinking of who to call to pick her up, as yua had driven them to the son's house.

yua sighs and walks back inside.

"hey, have you seen mingze?" minjun asks her as soon as she steps in, "i was going to ask him something..."

"he left fifteen minute ago." yua sighs in exasperation, pushing minjun out of her way, "why did you bring the detective's kid here, minjun? you have no idea the danger you put us all in. as always, you're ten steps behind."

"huh? what are you talking about?" minjun asks, but his words fall on deaf ears as yua walks away.

10:30 PM

after everyone has left, jiyeon lays in jisoo's bed. she stares at her phone, yoo minhyuk's contact name in bright white letters. her thumb hesitates over the call button. after a moment, she puts her phone away.

a while later, she sends a text. (the following are text messages between jiyeon and minhyuk.)

son jiyeon: the whole club was here. are you sure you don't want to join? i could really use your help now. yoo minhyuk: i'll help but i'm not a part of it. no drinking everyone’s blood out of a goblet for me, thanks. son jiyeon: we don’t do that. yoo minhyuk: i’ve heard otherwise. son jiyeon: you are a part of this. you have been since the second you were born. you can keep denying that but you know it's true. yoo minhyuk: maybe. can i help you with something? son jiyeon: nothing for now. the less you know the better. yoo minhyuk: the less i know the better.

ooc info . the dress code for the dinner is semi-formal . some characters’ choices were written directly into the text , others were not — you’ll find these omitted texts ( think of them as scenes happening off-screen ) in the linked portions of the text .

any character movement not mentioned here , or any time not accounted for , is for writers to fill in . if writing about scenes mentioned in the plot drop , please include the dialogue verbatim and try to make as little modifications as possible . as always , the main will monitor interactions and contact you if your character’s actions go against canon .

try not to plot too far ahead . try to keep interactions and plots centered on ongoing events + fall exhibit prep . our next and final plot drop of the month will cover the events that took place during the last two weeks of september 2022 and will reveal the lasting consequences of this night’s events .

characters’ info pages will be edited to include new information revealed in this plot drop. this will take a few days so please be patient . this is a lot of info and it’s possible i missed something , so please let me know if you think so . if you have any questions , just ask !

#mguplot #mguacti #i feel like i'm the looney tunes roadrunner bird leading you all to a giant wall of text lmao sorry #reading the ooc info first might help !

11 notes · View notes

hoodharlow · 2 years

Text

Drunken Questions

AN: We made it to part 2! This kind of a filler chapter for what’s in store in the shitshow that’s going to be chapter 3 <3 enjoy lol

Requested? No

Warnings: an intense make out scene (spoiler lol) alcohol, drunk!miriam, urban being lowkey mean to miriam

Word Count; 4.2k words

“So it’s like a party?” Miriam asked Jack.

They were talking over the phone, discussing his upcoming birthday. He's not hosting something big, just a kickback with some friends and his team. Jack didn't think Miriam was going to make it but she made it work. Yesterday afternoon she flew in from Paris. Miriam called him today while she was unpacking her luggage. Fashion month has ended and she is back in LA. And so was Jack for work.

He was in the studio with Lil Nas X and his team working on a song for Lil Nas’s upcoming album. When she called him, everyone decided to take a dinner break since they've been in the studio since the morning. Jack was nestled in the backseat of his car listening to her talk about her trip. He didn’t really understand what she was saying. He just enjoyed hearing her voice.

“But chill.” He answered her question. She had asked him what a kickback was because she'd never been to one.

“But chill.” she repeated to herself. Her airpods dinged that they were low on battery. “Hold on.” He heard her shuffle around her room. “You’re on speaker, don’t say anything stupid.”

“When have I said anything stupid?” Jack scoffed, feigning offense.

“Do you really want me to answer?” she snickered.

“You know what you’re uninvited to my birthday party.”

“I thought it was a kickback not a birthday party.”

“Now that you’re uninvited it’s going to be a full on party and you’re gonna miss out.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t know what to wear either way.”

“You could've worn that skirt you wore to Nobu. Your legs looked real good in that.” he said without even thinking twice.

“¿Miriam con quien hablas?” A voice was heard on the other line.

Jack cringed. Of course the one time he tried to get all flirty with her her mom had to be in the same room as her.

Miriam let out a nervous laugh. “With my friend,” she then said something in Spanish to her mom. He heard the door close on her side. “What did I say about saying stupid shit. Now my mom is gonna tell my dad and they're gonna assume that you’re only going to New York with me because we’re fucking.”

“And that's a bad thing because?”

“Because we're not fucking.”

“Not according to your parents.”

“I'm hanging up.” Miriam warned him in a playful tone.

“I’m kidding, don’t hang up please.” Jack pleaded.

“If you insist, I can spare a few more minutes.”

They kept talking for another half hour. Miriam got reinvited to Jack’s kickback. Then they went over the details of their trip to New York. Miriam was going to go to Tokyo for a few days, but because she didn’t have anyone to go with her, she wasn’t going to anymore.

Miriam usually went with her brother, but since he's in the middle of filming ‘La Familia Perfecta’ he couldn’t go with her. Her other option was her mom but she's in Europe promoting her upcoming movie. If they couldn’t go with her, Katalina usually went with her, but she was still in Europe because she had some campaigns and magazine covers to shoot. Her dad was also not an option though. Following his retirement, her dad started a very successful salsa and hot sauce company, one of their salsas has been used on The Hot Ones series, and he likes to oversee the company himself and only travels if it’s absolutely mandatory for him.

Jack would have gone with her but he only had a few days free before heading out to New York for Saturday Night Live, coincidentally Miriam’s mom was going to be the co-host the same, so he invited her to New York for a few days so the two of them could spend time together before he got busy with SNL.

Jack received a text from one of his managers. They needed him back in the studio. He frowned and replied that he’ll be there in a minute.

“Hey, I gotta go, but I’ll see you later, right?” Jack said, frowning.

“Yeah, just text me the address.” Miriam said before pausing to yawn. “Sorry, I still have jet lag.”

“Okay because I know I was not boring you. You were laughing not too long ago.”

“Bye Jack.” With how she said that, he knew that she was trying not to smile.

He grinned. “Bye Miriam.”

***

“Do you need condoms?” Joseph asked Miriam. Before she could tell him no, he pulled open the center console and handed her a handful. “I’m too young to be a tío.”

She put them back from where her brother pulled them out of. “I don’t need any.”

“Oh shit! You got your own?”

Miriam’s cheeks warned up. “I don’t have any because I’m not planning on having sex.”

“Uno nunca sabe.”

“I do know, and I’m telling you I’m not having sex.”

“If you end up pregnant, don’t come crying to me.”

“Thank you for the ride.” She said, ignoring his last comment.

She got out of the car and adjusted her dress. She was wearing a black dress from Dion Lee’s spring 2020 collection. It went down to her ankles, but had a slit down the thigh to make the dress less conservative. In the runway show, the model wore it with a garter-like thing under it paired with thigh high socks. Miriam didn’t like that so she wore it with her leather Versace platform boots because she liked to show some leg. What she did keep from the runway look was the leather vest/harness/corset thing that went around her stomach area.

“How are you getting home?” her brother asked her when she reached for the gift bag.

“Uber probably.”

“I get off at seven a.m. Text me if you want me to pick you up then.”

“Why would I stay so late?”

Joseph rolled his eyes at her comment. “Be good and don’t get pregnant.”

Miriam flipped him off and closed the door. Music played loudly as she went up the steps that led up to the house. She pressed the doorbell. She pulled her phone out after a few minutes of waiting, to text Jack that she was here when Drama, Jack’s label friend, opened the door.

“Hi Dee!” Miriam said, side-hugging Drama.

“Hey Miriam. How are your parents?” he asked her.

“They’re good. My dad told me to say hi for him before my brother dropped me off.” She looked behind Drama and gave Jack a small wave. “Hi.”

“Hey.” he smiled brightly.

“I’m gonna go do a lap.” Drama cleared his throat. He patted Miriam’s arm. “Enjoy yourself.”

“I got you a present.” Miriam said nervously once his manager was out of sight. She handed him a large matte black back with white tissue paper on top. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Is it not your birthday?”

“I mean yeah…”

“Then you get a birthday present.” She shrugged.

Jack knew better than to argue with her. She was stubborn and even if he tried to fight her on it, she wouldn't budge.

“Let’s go upstairs to my room, I wanna see what you got me.” He held out his hand for her to take.

“You’re not going to wait and open your other presents?” She asked him.

“Those can wait.”

Truth was that she was the only person, aside from Drama and Chris, his manager, that got him a present. But he had a feeling if he told her that, she’d get embarrassed. He took her hand and guided her through the party. They made their way up the steps. He heard a few hollers and whistles from his friends, making him blush. He gently nudged her up the stairs. He turned to his friends, flipping them off.

“Sorry about that.” he mumbled, pulling out his keys to unlock his room.

“It’s okay.” she waved him off.

He opened the door and let her in first. He closed the door behind them. He watched Miriam sit on his bed. She fluffed some pillows behind her and leaned back. One of her legs hung over the bed while the one with the exposed leg was bent almost like she was sitting criss-cross-applesauce. After seeing that Jack took off his shoes, she did the same, neatly lining up her boots against the nightstand.

He took a seat next to her, his thigh almost touching her exposed knee. He carefully opened the gift bag, pulling out the tissue part. He took a peek inside, immediately recognizing the orange box and blue ribbon. He closed the bag and looked over to her.

“Miriam, please tell me you did not get me Louis Vuittton.” he said flatly.

“Do you want me to lie to you?” She asked and leaned in, whispering. “Because I don’t like lying to my friends, Jack.”

“We're friends?” He asked her in a hopeful tone.

“Of course we are! You think I'm just buying random people some Louis Vuitton?” She patted the gift bag. “Open your present.”

Miriam sat closer to him, dangling her feet off the bed. Jack pulled open the orange box, revealing a dark blue bottle with gold etching and the bottom of the title was 'JH' also in gold etching. Under the bottle was a white monogrammed windbreaker with indigo watercolor detailing.

“I don’t know what to say,” he turned to Miriam, “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of things, especially when the gift was as nice as the one she got him. He was always the one who gave things to friends and family. He never expected anything in return, but it felt nice to get something.

“You're welcome.” she grinned. She nodded her head towards the windbreaker. “One thing though, you can’t wear that in public until like mid April because Virgil said that the collection won’t be available until then.”

“How did you get it then?”

“I have my connections.” she shrugged, making Jack snort.

They sat in a comfortable silence. Miriam leaned her head on Jack’s shoulder, listening to some hip hop song heard all the way from downstairs. They both turned to face one another and smiled. Jack’s eyes dropped down to her lips. Then they wandered back to her eyes.

Without thinking twice, Jack cupped her cheek and leaned in to kiss her. The first few were awkward as Miriam was taken back at the fact that he kissed her. But when she relaxed into it, she kissed him back with full force. She wasn’t sure how she ended up straddling him, but she didn't mind it. She also didn’t mind his hands on her ass and how grinded her against his crotch. Miriam threw her neck back, reveling in how good he felt against her. She mentally gave herself a pat on the back for wearing full lace panties. Jack nipped and sucked down her neck to find her sweet spot. He barely caught her strangled moan when he nipped the spot between her jaw and neck. He repeated his actions, earning a louder moan from her.

Jack rolled them over so that he was on top of her. They continued kissing. Their hands were everywhere. Miriam pushed up Jack’s shirt. He got the hint and sat on his knees, pulling off the shirt. He chucked it over his shoulder and got on top of her once more. He spread her legs so he’d fit more comfortably between her legs.

“The things you do to me, Miriam.” Jack murmured in her ear. He wrapped one of her legs over his waist, bringing her closer.

“Yo, Neelan and Drama are loo– shit!” The door slammed behind them. It was Jack’s friend.

“Fuck,” Miriam cursed,

She pushed Jack off her, mumbling a half-assed excuse. She grabbed her boots and slipped them on, not bothering to zip them up as she made her way downstairs. She went straight to the kitchen and poured herself some cheap tequila, downing the whole thing. She refilled her drink and finished it one gulp.

How could she be so stupid? She thought to herself. Miriam couldn’t believe she threw herself at him, especially after telling her older brother multiple times that she’s not planing on fucking Jack only for her to jump him the second he took her upstairs. He probably thought the worst of her, she would too if she was in his shoes. He most likely doesn’t want to see her face anymore.

She sighed and poured herself more tequila. She took in her surroundings, noticing that the kitchen was empty. She followed the sounds of people singing happy birthday out in the backyard, but she returned to the kitchen. She took a seat on one of the stools. She read over the bottles looking for another cheap bottle of alcohol. She settled with some vodka, fully knowing that she shouldn’t be mixing her alcohol, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.

“You’re quick.” A voice said behind her.

Miriam recognized the voice, it was Jack’s friend that walked in on them.

“What are you talking about?” She asked him, watching him light a blunt.

“Usually Jack waits for the ink to dry before doing whatever you guys were doing. You must have something that made him change his mind.” he said, before taking a hit. He scanned over Miriam’s body then met her eyes. “I don’t see what he sees in you, but I’m gonna guess that it has to do with your daddy’s bank account.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying? However I don’t appreciate how you’re talking down to me.” Miriam frowned. “I don’t even know you for you to be saying all that shit.”

“Look I’m saying that even you should know that you need to sign an NDA to be in the same room as Jack. I’m just warning you if you’re expecting more because you’re not getting anymore than that.”

“Is everything okay?” Jack asked, looking between Urban and Miriam.

“Yeah, he was just telling me you’re out of tangerine flavored White Claws.” Miriam said, not meeting Jack’s gaze. She looked at her phone. “I should get going. I only came to drop off your present.”

Urban mumbled something but masked it with a cough.

“You say something Urb?” Jack asked him in a challenging tone.

“Nah, I was just clearing my throat.” Urban took another hit of his blunt and walked away.

Miriam stared down at her phone as she texted Beto to come pick her up. She could feel Jack’s eyes on her. She just couldn’t look at him. She was embarrassed and the last thing she wanted to do was look him in the eye. Even his best friend assumed the worst of her, she couldn’t fathom what Jack thought of her too.

“Can we talk?” Jack asked her softly.

Miriam deleted the text she drafted and nodded. He took her hand and led her down the hall to a private hallway. He opened the door to a home studio. He closed the door and locked it while she sat on a leather couch.

Jack sat across from her on a sturdy wooden coffee table. He cleared his throat and wiped the sweat off his hands on his pants.

“There’s no easy way to say this,” he began. He cleared his throat once more. “I just wanted to apologize for what happened upstairs. That wasn’t my intention when I took you to my room.”

“Jack,”

“It was shitty of me. I didn’t ask you if you wanted me to kiss you and next thing I know I’m all over you. That was uncalled for and I shouldn’t have disrespected you like that, Miriam. So from the bottom of my heart I apologize. Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen, alright?”

“Sure.” Miriam mumbled.

“Okay, good. I’m gonna make a few rounds but I’ll be back. Don’t go okay?”

She gave him a nod. “Okay.”

***

By one in the morning, Jack had lost track of Miriam. The last place he saw her was when she was dancing and singing along to Bad Bunny with Lil Nas X. That was an hour ago. Now he had no idea where she was. He hoped that she didn’t get in an Uber like she said she would. She had been drinking a lot and knew that it wouldn’t be safe for her.

He went to his room to check if she was in there, but it was empty. Scratching the back of his neck, he pulled out his phone and called her. He hung up hearing her phone ring on his bed.

“Yo, your girl is asleep in the studio.” Druski popped his head into his room.

“Thanks man.” Jack patted his shoulder.

He made a pit stop at the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle for her before he went to the studio. He found Miriam curled up on the leather couch. She used one of his hoodies as a blanket and one of the blankets as a pillow. He closed the door and walked up to her. He gently shook her shoulder.

“Miriam, wake up,” he said softly.

After a few more shakes, she woke up. She sat up confused. Her curls all over and her makeup was a little smudged around the eyes. She surveyed the room then her eyes landed on Jack. Her eyes widened in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” She quickly said, slipping on her shoes and began folding his hoodie. “I was looking for a pen because your friend with Tarzan hair said I needed to sign a nada form if I wanted to be your friend. Then I sat down and I fell asleep.”

Miriam stumbled as she made way to the door, but Jack caught her. He sat her down on the couch and handed her the water bottle.

“It’s cold.” she grimaced, but she took a sip nonetheless. She passed him the water bottle back and laid back down on the couch. “Bedtime.”

“Hey, Miriam, wake up. We have to get you home.” Jack said, sitting her up.

“No, I’m gonna get drunk if my dad sees me in trouble.” tears brimmed around her eyes. “I can’t go home, Jack. And don’t say I can stay here, I already know I can’t stay here because your friend said I had to sign a nada form if I wanted to hang out with you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Miriam, you can’t go to a hotel.” Jack tried to reason with her.

“Your friend said that you’re only allowing me to be your friend because my dad’s rich but I still have to sign a nada form.” She explained, wiping her tears.

It took Jack a second to realize she meant NDA but she was just saying it instead of spelling it out. It made him feel bad because he did hand out NDAs like Jehova Witnesses handed out booklets at bus stations. He may only hvae been talking to Miriam for a few weeks but he trusted her and knew she wouldn't run off to the media to talk about him.

“I’m gonna get an Uber and go to a hotel…fuck where’s my phone.” she said, bringing him back from his thoughts.

“Then where am I supposed to go? I don’t have anywhere to go!” She broke into sobs.

Jack sighed and pulled her to his chest, letting her cry until she calmed down. “You can take my bed, yeah?” He told her, smoothing out her curls.

Miriam shook her head and hiccuped. “Your friend said–”

“Urban is just being Urban. Don’t pay attention to him.”

Jack pulled her up and they made their way upstairs. He picked out some sweats and a t-shirt for her change into. He went to the bathroom and walked out with a brand new toothbrush.

“The bathroom is the door next to the TV. I’ll be right back, okay?” He said handing her his clothes and the toothbrush.

“Thank you.” she mumbled.

Jack closed the door behind him and went to the kitchen. He grabbed another water for Miriam when Urban walked in the kitchen.

“Where’s money bags?” He asked Jack, lighting up another blunt.

“Why did you tell Miriam that she had to sign an NDA?” He asked, ignoring Urban’s question.

“Because that’s what you always do with girls you fuck?”

“Miriam and I aren’t going to hook up.”

“Well when I walked in on y’all, it looked like y’all were.” Urban took a hit. “I’m just looking out for you. It’s clear that she’s using you for clout, but you don’t see it because you’re far up her ass to see it.”

“When has she used me? The whole night she didn’t post or take any pictures. She had multiple opportunities and she didn’t post anything.” Jack said defensively. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We’re just friends and I don’t appreciate you meddling.”

“Whatever man.” Urban waved him off. He opened his mouth but was interrupted by a series of dings and buzzes. “Who’s texting you?”

Jack pulled out his phone and checked. “Miriam’s older sister?” he replied. He furrowed his eyebrows, switching the phone to the lockscreen to reveal a picture of Daisy, Miriam’s dog, and Miriam in what he assumes is a car.

“So you’re telling me you’re stringing along sisters?” his best friend laughed in disbelief. “Fuck man, even I know that shit’s gonna backfire on you.”

“I’m not stringing anyone along.” Jack said defensively. “It’s Miriam’s phone. I must have picked up the wrong one when I went to check on her.”

He left Urban in the kitchen without another word and went back to his room. He opened the door and found Miriam crying only wearing her baby blue lace bra and the sweats he gave her.

“What’s wrong?” He said, averting his eyes away from her.

“I can’t take off my bra. The back is missing.” She sniffled, showing him that her bra clasped in the front. “Can you help me?”

Jack cursed. In another circumstance in heartbeat he would help her take off her bra, but not tonight.

“I’m gonna see if Neelam is still here so she can help you.” He excused himself.

“No! She’s going to laugh at me.” she blubbered.

“Well I can't help you take off your bra, Miriam.” He snapped at her.

“Why?”

“Because you’re drunk!”

“Why are you yelling at me? I’m just asking you for help.”

Jack sighed. He had no idea what to do. On one hand he's just helping her out of her bra but on the other he was touching a drunk girl.

"I got it! Mira, Jack." Miriam exclaimed.

"What– Jesus!" He mumbled, turning around. "Please cover yourself."

"Why? You've never seen boobs before? Are you a virgin? Is that why you didn't want to have sex with me?" She rambled off.

He rolled his eyes at her for the nth time and went into his closet to pick out some pajamas to change into. He went to the bathroom and changed. He brushed his teeth and his night routine. By the time he got out of the bathroom, Miriam was fast asleep.

A buzzing came from Jack's pants. He dug in the pocket and pulled out Miriam's phone. The name 'JoBro 🤎 (no the actual Jonas Brothers)' lit up the the screen. Jack deduced it was Miriam's older brother so he answered.

"Hey, uh, this is Jack Harlow. Miriam's friend." He said in a quiet voice so he wouldn't wake the sleeping girl in his bed.

"Oh hey, is Miriam around?" Her brother asked.

"She's fast asleep. Earlier she got drunk so now she's sleeping it off. I offered to drive her home but she freaked out saying that she was going to get in trouble, so imma let her crash here."

Joseph laughed. "Yeah she got in trouble her sophomore year and our dad scolded her for that. It was more of a 'be safe' lecture rather than a 'you shouldn't be drinking you're fifteen' lecture. She didn't get punished or anything, but Miriam’s sensitive so she took it badly. Even more because she's our dad's favorite and she never did anything illegal. So now she only drinks one alcoholic per party– well not in this case."

Jack hummed in response.

"So Miriam is sleeping?" He asked him.

"Yeah, she's in my room. I'm gonna sleep on the couch we have in the studio."

"Okay. I'm just gonna text my dad that she ubered to set since it's closer than ubering home and that she fell asleep the second she got here so he doesn't freak out that she didn't come home."

"Sounds like a plan." Jack said.

"Thanks for taking care of her."

"It's Miriam, I'd do anything for her."

They bid each other goodbye and Jack hung up. He plugged in Miriam's phone so it could charge. He collected some things that he'll need in the morning and turned off the light.

"Where are you going?" Miriam asked him.

"I'm going downstairs." He said.

"Okay." She got up and wrapped the blanket around her. "Let's go."

"You're not going anywhere." Jack steered her back to bed.

He walked two steps when he felt Miriam's hand around his wrist. "Stay with me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"You're drunk."

"But we're just sleeping." She reasoned, confused by the circumstances. "Jack, why won't you sleep with me?"

"Just get some rest, Miriam." He sighed defeatedly. "We'll talk in the morning."

Jack taglist: @cherryxcreme @postyxmendes

#jack harlow #jack harlow smut #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fan fic #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow oneshot #jack harlow series

250 notes · View notes

emmyrosee · 1 year

Note

FOR YOUR EVENT!!!! I'M SO EXCITED YAYAYAYYYYY

okokok so from the lists, could I haveeee

29. giggling while kissing (from the kisses prompt list)

and from the dialogue list let's do...

136. did you enjoy yourself last night?

111. delete it. now.

(and i'm not sure if you wanted me to include a character or not, but either way i trust your judgement!! congrats again <33333)

*screams and kicks and cries about how much I love this* also went with Tsumu bc. Like. He’s my husband 🧡

tw!! suggestive content for comedic purposes. Nothing is done, but the verbiage is definitely suggestive!! Also tw hangover, drinking is mentioned.

—

You woke up with a pounding headache.

It wasn’t like you had more than a few glasses of wine, but you knew when Inarizaki had reunions, no one was safe from the party; even Shinsuke, who goes to bed at 9:30 because he’s a man of absolutely uncontrollable patterns.

Unfortunately, for you, Inarizaki reunions meant Suna Rintaro was there, and you were determined to drink him under the table any chance you got. He’s a great friend, been yours for years, but screw him and his stupid cocky self that you’ve got to set into place every few months.

Pounding headaches and blurry nights were definitely a price, but at the end of it all, it’s definitely an event you wouldn’t pass up for the world.

Even as your entire being feels like it’s covered in bricks.

“Morning, my baby,” the sweet, yet somehow still cocky voice of your boyfriend croons into your ear. His warm breath spans over your cheek, and you whine and cover your head with the pillow.

“Your breath reeks,” you grumble, desperate to ignore his snickers. “Can you give me fourteen seconds before you’re the bane of my existence?”

“I’m sure I can,” he teases, and god he’s lucky he’s so cute because the smirk in his voice makes you want to whack him with a pillow. “I’m not gonna, but I can.”

“You’re such a disappointment,” you snip, and that’s prompted with a soft kiss against your aching temple. That, finally, does have you melting, and you whimper softly before turning your head to bury into his chest. He holds you lovingly, letting you settle against him. “No wonder ‘Samu’s the favorite child.”

“‘Samu’s the favorite because of pity,” he says simply, and you giggle in his chest dopily. From his chest, you hear his outer arm paw for his phone on the bedside table, and you mewl once the comforting weight settles back against your shoulders.

“So,” he says, nosing at your hairline. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

“So much,” you say, voice warbled from the way your lips are smooshed against his chest. “Too much.”

“I know,” he teases, and once again, you want to smack the smirk off his face with the pillow. “You were definitely the life of the party last night. Off your rocker completely.”

“Hm?”

He pauses, and you feel a certain queasiness settle in your heart.

“Definitely had me in surprise. Thought Osamu was gonna have a stroke. Definitely glad Sunarin caught it on video, otherwise you may not believe me.”

Fuck. What did you do?

“Please, whatever it is, be nice about it,” you beg, now hiding your face from him not to be comfortable, but to hide your embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad about it,” he assures.

Why would he be mad about whatever it was?

Then, from his phone, you hear your voice in a drunken stupor, wailing on and on about how much you love Atsumu, and you’re blessed to have him and how definitely some unsavory things that absolutely should not have been said aloud, in public.

But nothing that would cause such a strange reaction; Sunarin was always known to catch you at your worst, even if it is flirting with-

“Yer damned boyfriend is gonna come out here and kick my ass if you don’t stop.”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna film the whole thing,” Suna snorts from behind the camera.

“I wanna lick your abs.”

“ATSUMU!”

Osamu.

You were flirting with Osamu, thinking he was Atsumu.

Instantly, immediately, your eyes fly open and you scramble as far as you can away from your blonde boyfriend, eyes wide as saucers while he cackles at your expense. Your chest heaves and you feel bile rushing up your throat, horrified for the trauma you probably caused the other twin.

“You are sooo into me,” he wheezes, pointing and laughing at you.

“Fuck you, this isn’t funny!” You wail, burying your face in your hands. “Oh, my god, your teammates must think I’m fucking feral! I’ll never be able to show my face again! Fuck!” Your voice, snow hiked in a snarl, growls out a sharp “delete it. Now.” from behind your palms.

He snickers and you feel the bed weight shift, and there’s a comforting warmth that settles against you as he plops next to you.

“You’re makin’ a mountain out of a molehill,” he says sweetly, as if that’s supposed to help. “You got a little plastered and mistook me for the lesser twin is all.”

“‘Is all,’” You whimper. He tosses an arm around your shoulder and you hide your face in his bicep. “I practically cheat on you and you say ‘is all.’”

“Hard to be mad at you when you moan my name at my twin.”

“Shut up!”

“Talkin’ about how you wanna lick my abs,” he starts to plant kisses on your head, the quick action making you squeal softly. “You want me to toss you on the counter, ride my thigh, suck my toes-“

“Fuck you, I did not say that!” You groan, but this time it’s shrouded in laughter.

“I have 4 friends and 1 scarred Kita-San who will confirm that.” He beams at your laughter, now moving his kisses to peck along your cheek, and you shove at him gently at the tickly feeling. “How you love me soooo much, how sexy I am and how bad you are for me-“

“I get it!” You giggle. You turn your head up to nudge his teasy lips away, but instead he captures your own in a kiss, the rapid, repeated pecks now on your laughing lips. His long arm wraps around your shoulders and gently angles your jawline to keep you as subjected to his affections as possible.

“How you’d do anything for me, with me, how everyone else is so jealous that they’re not me- which is true, but I was surprised to hear you say it.”

“You’re so embarrassing!”

“You looove me.”

“Unfortunately I do- no!”

Slender fingers curl at your jawline and neck, tickling you back into submission, all the while kissing the laughter from your mouth once again.

“Shut up. You’re in no position to be a brat right now.”

“Stop being mean!” You whine around your laughter.

He cocks a brow before leaning down to your writhing head, once again holding it steady as he stops tickling with the same hand.

“I’ll show you mean, babydoll.”

302 notes · View notes

bqstqnbruin · 2 years

Text

Hello, hello, here I am with a fic for @antoineroussel's winter fic exchange. I had an amazing time writing this for @rosesvioletshardy. I hope you like it 💛💛💛

This was inspired by the song 23 by Kyle Hume

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: swearing, implications of sex (nothing really serious or explicitly mentioned), I'm mean in this at times but that's on brand at this point

________________________________

Save the date: Jeremy and Steven, January 22nd, 2022

Andrea and Eric’s daughter Amelia’s first birthday party, February 13th, 2022

Save the date: Taytum and Alex, March 19th, 2022

Save the date: Michelle and Nathan, March 26th, 2022

Steve and Liz’s engagement party, April 10th, 2022

Rachel’s baby shower, May 21, 2022

Save the date: Emily and Kevin, August 6th, 2022

Save the date: Natalie and Domenic, October 8th, 2022

And those were just the ones that were already sent to you. Not to mention the how many that you knew were coming, that were already in the works of being planned, and the ones that you just didn’t want to go to or already knew you couldn’t attend.

It seemed like every other day, a new ‘Save the date’ card or wedding invitation was showing up in your mailbox, someone else that you knew growing up, in college, now at work, getting married or announcing an engagement, having a child, doing something that warranted a celebration for any major life event that everyone was having.

Everyone but you.

You were just living your life, doing whatever it was that you wanted, not a care in the world. Part of you didn’t care that you seemed to be the only one of your friends who didn’t have a significant other, who wasn’t completing some major life milestone every other month, who really just was going with the flow of things in hopes that everything would eventually work out. The other part of you was anxiously waiting for everything to work out, that something good would happen to you with someone great.

Maybe you’ll find that by the time you’re 23. That seemed like a good age to get going. It was the age your parents met, the age your brother had his first kid, the age where everything good happened to everyone in your family. It had to be the same for you.

________________

“Who are you bringing to Jer’s wedding?” Cellini asked you.

You shrugged, not looking up from your computer. “Fuck if I know.”

“Didn’t you say that you were bringing someone?”

“Yeah.”

“And you don’t know who that is yet?”

“No.”

“I’m only going to invite you to my wedding if you’re in a relationship.”

You finally look up, the annoyed look on your coworkers face in contrast to the confused one on your own. “Why?”

“Because!” she screams, a few of your other coworkers looking up, shooting dirty looks in your direction, “Do you know how annoying it is to not be able to make the little seating card and have an actual name for the seating chart?”

You stare at her, trying to process what it was that she could possibly be trying to say to you. “No, and neither do you.”

“I helped plan Milani’s wedding,” she tells you, referring to her sister, “and she uninvited anyone who said they were bringing a date and then couldn’t say who their date was.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her, knowing that Jeremy would never do that to you. “Jer isn’t that dramatic.”

“He might not be, but Steven is.”

“And who are you bringing?” you ask her, hoping that she didn’t have an answer.

“Seamus, duh,” she says, you silently kicking yourself for forgetting the boyfriend she talked about constantly. You two sit there for a few moments before Cellini starts up again. “What if I set you up with someone?”

“Oh, god, no,” you groan, sitting back in your chair, your head thrown back slightly as you covered your face with your hands. “Last time you did that, I had food poisoning for a week and couldn’t find my favorite bra until I got it in the mail in an unmarked package three months later.”

Cellini scoffs, sitting back in her own chair. “I can’t believe you don’t trust me with finding you a wedding date.”

“What reason have you given me so far that would make me trust you?”

“I’ll find you three dates and you can pick from there, how about that?”

“You don’t even know three single guys.”

Cellini had apparently taken that as a challenge, finding you not only three single guys, but going beyond that and finding you five, single, and incredibly attractive men who had no business still being single unless there was something seriously wrong with them.

There was Maxwell, the guy who was on his college cross country team and it still showed, especially since running seemed to be the only thing he talked about. His red flag was that he had an obsession with bugs, which wasn’t something you really cared about, follow your passion and everything, but it became a little much when the two of you first met and he left you to chase a bug that he saw on the sidewalk for his collection.

There was Clayton, who was cute, but he really didn’t seem to be there meeting you for any reason other than Cellini told him he had to be. He was probably only doing it because you were sure that Cell had mentioned he had a crush on her at one point, and based on the way he couldn’t stop talking about her, he didn’t seem to be passed that crush just yet.

There was Jackson, the one who told you when you were leaving that first meeting that he liked you and wanted to spend more time with you, but didn’t want anything with you. Not even to go to the wedding with you. He thought Cellini was just doing this as a blind date because he had told her he was bored and alone.

There was Luke, the high school teacher at a Catholic school in the area. He was fine. He ended up just being another nondescript guy that would probably show up in a dream or something without you being able to place where in your life that face came from.

After the fourth guy, you weren’t sure Cellini was actually on to anything.

“What’s his name again?” you asked her, on the phone with her, waiting for her last option for Jeremy’s wedding to arrive at the coffee shop he picked. “Titus? Timmy?”

“Who the fuck is Titus? His name is Tyson. He’s friends with Milani’s husband. Honestly, I should have just introduced you two to each other first.”

You scoff, knowing Cellini was probably giving you a look despite you being unable to see it. “And why would that be?”

“You two are perfect for each other.”

“Y/N?” You hear, pulling your attention away from Cellini’s description of him.

“He’s tall, adorable, just dorky enough that he seems innocent, but not enough so you know he can be a little devious when he needs to be. He’s fit, like’ running your hands on his abs and never wanting to stop’ fit. He’s got that smirk that you love and will make you melt, curls that I know you want to run your hands through and pull while he moans your name,” she told you, you only tuning into the last part, hanging up without a word.

“Tyson? Hi,” you greet him as he takes the seat across from you. Cellini was right about everything she said. She should have introduced you two first.

“So, you need a wedding date?” he asks you.

You didn’t know what it was about him, but you couldn’t help but start to blush, sheepishly nodding in reply. “Mine and Cellini’s friend is getting married and I said I would bring a date, which I don’t have.”

“Yeah, your friend Jeremy!” he says, shifting towards you, his arms resting on the table supporting him. “Cellini showed me their wedding site, he and Steven look like they make a great couple.”

“They are,” you tell him, starting to mirror the smile that was growing on his face. “They met when they were freshmen in college.” You tell him the story that you knew about them, sure that you were leaving out details about them, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He seemed to be hanging on to every word of yours, his chin resting in the palm of his hand.

The two of you sat in the coffee shop for hours talking about everything you could think of. From the outside, it looked like you two were friends who had known each other forever.

“Oh, shit,” Tyson says, checking his watch. “I have to get going, I have to pack for a road trip.”

You had no idea why, you were sad that he was leaving, wishing you could spend more time with him and trying to think of anything you could say that could lead to you being with him longer. “Do you need help?” you offer.

He hesitates for a second, immediate regret washing over you. “I should be fine this time,” he tells you, you praying that the hurt that you felt wasn’t showing on your face. “But, how am I doing on the wedding date front?” he asks, a smirk growing on his face.

You give him a small smile, trying your best to flirt with him. “Well, I don’t know if I should say yes to you when I barely know you.”

“Good, because I get back Sunday,” he says, standing up from the table, “and if you’re interested, I want to see you again before the wedding.”

You tell him yes, letting out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, watching him leave the coffee shop unable to let your eyes wander anywhere besides him until he was out of sight. You sit back in your seat, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. You never were like this after meeting a guy unless you were drunk and waking up the next morning regretting at least one decision from the night before and leaving as soon as you could.

But Cellini had known the guy who could take your breath away all this time, waiting until now to introduce the two of you.

________________

Sunday rolled around, Tyson inviting you over to his place to make you dinner and watch a movie with him, Cellini not hesitating to tease you about your ‘Netflix and chill’ night that was about to happen as your first date. Actually, your second date, since Tyson told you he considered your first date that day you met.

You were sitting on his couch, Tyson banishing you from the kitchen while he cleaned up and telling you to find a movie that you could watch. You found 13 Going on 30, not caring if Tyson had seen it or not, settling into the cushions while the opening credits started playing.

“What did you pick?” The title cards comes up on the screen before you can answer, Tyson saying, “Huh, I’ve never seen this one before.”

“How have you never seen one of the best movies ever?” you ask him, Tyson extending his arm across the back of the couch for you to lean up against him, resting your head on his shoulder. The two of you stay like that the entire movie, Tyson adding his commentary every now and then, his fingers dancing up and down your arm, tracing patterns as he pulled you closer to him with every chance he got.

By the last scene, Jenna and Matt are sitting on the couch outside their new home, sharing Razzles, you and Tyson in a similar pose. You look over at Tyson, feeling his eyes on you for the last few moments.

“You aren’t watching,” you whisper, seeing his eyes flickering down to your lips.

“I know,” he says, his face inching closer to yours. “This might sound dumb, but can I kiss you?”

You could feel his breath on you, waiting for you to tell him what you want. “Yes,” you let out, his lips connecting with yours without a second thought. His hands wrapped around you, pulling you up onto his lap, you running your hands through his hair. Your mind went blank, wanting him, needing him to do everything he asked. He seemed to be the same; every time you asked him if you could do something, he eagerly told you yes as you went for it. Your bodies moved together as if they were made for each other, finding the parts of you in him that you didn’t know were missing.

Part of you thought he was the love you were supposed to find when you were 23.

________________

“Ok, so I heard from Tyson that things went well,” Cellini says to you that next Monday at work, her eyebrows wiggling to match the mocking tone that was dripping from her voice.

You were suddenly mortified, praying that she didn’t know everything about that night. “What did you hear?”

“Tyson wants to go to the wedding with you,” she squeals, just about jumping out of her seat in excitement. “See, I told you that you were perfect for each other.”

Cell keeps gushing about you and Tyson as a date, going on and on about how he would look so good with the tie color that matched your dress, dancing with you, everything. “When’s your next date?”

“The wedding?” you say, a hint of confusion in your voice. The other night wasn’t really a date. You hadn’t even technically agreed to take him to the wedding. Cellini still apparently had another man for you to see if he was your potential date. “What about guy number five?”

“Tyson was guy number five.”

“Well, you said you had another one after Tyson.”

“Why do you need to meet James?”

“Actually,” you start, “If he calls himself James, there’s probably something wrong with him.” You let out a sigh, guess you had to settle. Settling for someone who could be perfect for you if you were in a place where you were ready to be with someone. Settling for Tyson.

Cellini keeps going on about you and Tyson again, not seeing to notice or just not caring about the fact that you weren’t paying attention to a word that she was saying. You wanted Tyson to text you, not go through your friend to say that you would go to the wedding together. The wedding was in about two weeks, plenty of time for him to get his tux and match his tie to your dress. He didn’t have to be anything more than your wedding date. There was no need for him to be more than that. You weren’t 23 yet, you didn’t have to worry yet.

“Oh, my god,” Cellini stops her rant, her eyes wide as she looks just over your shoulder.

You turn to see what it was that had her like that, or rather, who. Tyson was at the front desk of your office, talking to the receptionist but clearly looking for someone while he listened to whatever it was they were telling him. He finally lays his eyes on you, a wide smile covering his face that you couldn’t help but melt at the sight of. Something about that stupid grin of his was haunting your memories in the best way possible, from the smile he gave you after he pulled away from kissing you, the one he flashed as he was leaving that next morning, every time he did was replaying like a film reel in your head as he was walking towards you. “Hey, Cellini,” he greets your friend before she scurries off, mouthing something along the lines of ‘have fun’ before disappearing. He turns to you, not seeing what she said. “I was wondering if I could take you out to lunch.”

There was something about the slight tone of nerves that were coming through his voice that sent shivers down your spine. You had only known this boy for a week and there was something about him that you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You knew he was only your date for your wedding, but you couldn’t stop yourself from taking him up on his invitation to lunch.

He brings you to a cafe not far from where you worked, his hand in yours the entire walk there as if you two had been together for years. Tyson sits across from you, his hand running through his hair nervously as he looks at you. “I have to admit,” he lets out with a sigh, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the other night.”

You give a smile, Tyson matching yours. “I haven’t either,” you tell him, Tyson reaching across the table. You put your hand in his, feeling him give you a gentle squeeze. What was this, where you two dating? Were you supposed to ask him what he thought, if he thought you were? Or was he only in it for the friends with benefits and the wedding? You would be fine with the latter. You weren’t sure you could handle dating at this point.

“Are you busy tomorrow night?” he asks you.

You want to see him. You need to see him.

“Like for another date?” you ask him.

“Yeah. You know, dinner, a walk around the city, back to your place or my place and hopefully repeat the other night if you’re willing?” he suggests, a rosy tint showing up on his cheeks at his suggestion.

He take in a deep breath, trying to figure out what you wanted. You wanted him. But you couldn’t have him. “I like the first part of that,” you start, your voice trailing off as the smile on his face fell.

Tyson felt himself starting to panic. “Did I do something wrong the other night? You can tell me, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable in any way,” he lets out.

“No, no,” you reassure him, squeezing his hand that was still holding yours. “You did nothing wrong, I just.” You stop yourself, trying to figure out what to tell him. “I think you want more than I do from this.”

His shoulders deflate at your words. “What do you want from this?”

This wasn’t a conversation you pictured having as the waiter brought over the food you had already forgotten you ordered, sitting there in public as the stream from the panini you got started to reach your face. But there you were, in the cafe, talking about where you wanted this relationship to go with the boy sitting in front of you. This perfect, gorgeous, sweet boy who was everything you could ever wish for in a man. “I don’t know if I’m ready to be dating someone.”

________________

You hadn’t seen him in a week and a half. Not that you didn’t want to, but you were working late nights trying to get everything done (thank you overtime pay), and the nights that you weren’t working late were the ones that he was either traveling or just playing a game and didn’t have time to come see you. You missed him.

“Why aren’t you dating him, again?” Cellini asks you while you’re sitting at your desk, staring at your phone instead of actually doing any work. You were trying to manifest him texting, calling, sending a snapchat, anything that would give you a reason to talk to him like you had been waiting for all day.

“I don’t date.”

Cellini scoffs, earning a confused look from you. “You’ve been spending the last year and a half that I have known you talking about how you hated that you felt like you were ‘behind’ everyone you knew when it came to meeting the person you were supposed to spend your life with. Now you’ve met him, and all you’re doing is using him to sleep with and then as a wedding date. Then what?”

“I am not. I’m not ready to date,” you try to argue back.

“No, you think you aren’t ready to date. Tyson is your person. Tyson is the one you’ve been waiting for in your life to be yours, I know it.

You roll your eyes at your friend. “How do you know he’s my person?”

Cellini shrugs, looking down at her hands and starts picking at her cuticles, not making eye contact with you. “I don’t for sure, it’s just a feeling. But you won’t know unless you date him. Like, actually date him.”

“I told you, I don’t care about dating. I have time when I’m older to date, I don’t have to start thinking about that stuff yet,” you say to her, leaving out your arbitrary age that you wanted to date knowing that it was ridiculous.

Cellini rolls her eyes at you, standing up from her chair. “There’s no timeline set in stone about when you meet someone. There’s no schedule about when you’re supposed to fall in love, get married, when you’re supposed to accomplish those ‘milestones’ that you always talk about. When your person comes, they come. Your person is here in your life, and you’re trying to keep him out of it for God only knows what reason.”

Before you can respond, Cellini walks away, leaving her words hanging around you. ‘Your person is here in your life.’ There’s no way she could actually know that Tyson was the one for you. He was just your wedding date, and nothing more.

________________

The night before Jeremy’s wedding, you and Tyson were at your place, as you had been the last few nights that both of you were free. You couldn’t help but feel like the two of you were actually dating, something you were trying to stay away from, something that you kept telling yourself that you weren’t ready for.

You were cuddled up next to him on your bed, the sheets pulled up over your chest, Tyson’s hand in yours as you both tried to catch your breath. Tyson was unlike any guy you had been with before, so why were you trying so hard to push Cellini’s words out of your head.

Tyson kisses the top of your hair, mumbling something against you that you could make out. You look up to him, a lazy smile on his face. “What was that?”

“I like this,” he says, using his free hand to tilt your chin up to him, his eyes flicking between yours and your lips. He pulls you close to him for a sweet, slow kiss, his hand cupping your face before working its way to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him. He pulls away first, you wanting to go back for more when he presses his forehead against yours. “I like you.”

You smile at him, unsure what to say before settling back onto his shoulder, feeling him kiss the top of your head again. The wedding was tomorrow. You probably weren’t going to see Tyson again after tomorrow night, probably not like this at least. You were trying to tell yourself that you didn’t want anything more with Tyson than you had now, and that you shouldn’t even being doing what you’ve been doing with him, no matter how good it was. No, no matter how great it was. “I like you, too,” you let out, barely above a whisper.

Tyson was everything, but he couldn’t be anything.

“I need to ask you something,” he tells you, shifting so you’re forced to sit up and look at him. “We’ve been dating for a little bit now,” he starts.

“Wait,” you cut him off. “This isn’t dating.”

You could feel your heart shatter at the look on his face, the absolute disappointment and confusion that fell on him. “Then what is this?” he asked, quietly.

“We’ve been on dates, but we aren’t dating. This was just for the wedding,” you say to him, hating yourself for those words.

“So when do we get to the part where we are dating?” he asks, the tone in his voice starting to change.

You sit up a little straighter, feeling an argument coming on between you and him. “We don’t.”

“Why? I like you, I want to be with you, and I have a feeling you like me and want to be with me,” he says.

You bite your lip, knowing that he was right. “I do, but,”

“But, what?” he cuts you off. “Is this that stuff Cellini had warned me about?”

“What did she warn you about?”

“You don’t want to date anyone. You have it in your head that you have to wait for a certain time in your life where you can start living and being with someone else. Why?”

You flinch at his words, something about the bite in his tone that you didn’t expect making you recoil from him. You never really thought about why other than, ‘because.’ “There’s no point in doing anything serious right now,” was the best answer you could give him.

“But, why?” he asks again, more force in his voice.

You couldn't answer him, your mouth opening in closing like a fish while he stared you down waiting. He didn’t wait too long for an answer, getting up out of your bed and gathering his clothes. He turns to you while you sat there, silently, shaking his head with his clothing balled up against him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Tyson opens his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, shaking his head and closing the door behind him instead of letting out what he wanted to. He stood on the other side of your door, putting on his clothing as silently as possible while he tried to listen to see if you were going to try to chase after him.

You sat there, too stunned to move. You had just sabotaged what was probably the best relationship you would have in a long time, with the best guy you had met, the most perfect person for you was sitting in your bed next to you, and there you were, letting him walk away.

Tyson let out another sigh, trying to fight back his tears while you were there letting yours fall. You got up, not loud enough for Tyson to hear you, and crept over to your door. You had no idea if he was still there, your hand hovering over the doorknob. If you had opened the door while Tyson was still there, his back leaning against the wall next to it, he would stay.

He would stay, and do everything he could to convince you that you were both in the right place in your life to be with each other. Deep down, he knew that everything about you two was what you needed from the other; you were his comfort, his voice of reason even though you were just as insane as he was, his person to talk to when he wasn’t right for whatever reason. He was your strength, the warmth that you needed when you couldn’t find it otherwise, your joy and the smile on your face.

All you had to do was open the door. Your hand was right there ready to open it, Tyson there on the other side without you knowing. You just had to open it and you would find what could be your forever relationship on the other side.

And you didn’t open the door.

________________

“You look like shit,” Cellini says when she opens the door to her place. The two of you were getting ready together that morning and heading over to the wedding that way. You already knew that Cellini’s observation was true; you spent the night after you heard your door close crying. You were kicking yourself for letting Tyson get away from you, but what else were you going to do. You didn’t want to be with someone. But Tyson made you think otherwise. You always heard that you would find your person when you stopped looking, and there he was, when you weren’t looking.

“I know that, help me not look like shit,” you mumble, pushing past her with your dress in hand.

The two of you get ready in silence, Cellini already filled in about Tyson storming out last night. She was mad at you for it, but not showing you at that moment. You were mad enough at yourself, anyway. You spent the night thinking about Tyson, wishing he was there with your, the image of him burned in your mind every time you closed your eyes. You hated yourself for letting him walk away. 23 was too far away for you when Tyson was so close.

“Is he still coming today?” Cellini breaks the silence between you.

You shrug looking at yourself in the mirror. You just finished your makeup, the thought of Tyson ditching you starting to make you tear up, and there was not enough time to redo your makeup if you were going to cry. “Do you think he’s the kind of guy to bail?” Cellini gets up, gently resting her hand on your shoulder.

“For you, I don’t think he would.” You nod, knowing that if you said anything, it would just be followed with a sob. You were pretty much ready to go, slipping into your dress and heels before Cellini tried to find the keys to her car. She had helped you pick out a red dress, outside of your normal black, but fuck, you looked good.

You just wanted Tyson to see you in it.

There was nothing that could occupy your mind other than Tyson during the wedding. Jeremy was saying he would spend the rest of his life with the love of his life, he and Steven looking the happiest you had ever seen them. They were saying their vows, you trying to force a smile when Cellini nudged you in the side. You couldn’t see Jeremy and Steven. You wanted to be standing there with Tyson, something absurd for only having known him for a few weeks, but Cellini was right, he was your person.

Love at first sight was never on your mind. Falling in love quickly was never on your mind. Finding your person was something you never thought would happen, and neither was letting him go.

Getting to the reception was a blur, the first part of it was a blur, and you were sure the rest of the night would be the same. There was nothing, no one, that could keep your attention or really bring a smile to your face. Tyson had bailed as your date, the seat next to you empty as Jeremy and Steven and the rest of their wedding party made their entrance.

“Is this seat taken?” you hear someone say, pulling you out of your trance, Tyson with a small smile on his face as he leaned against what was his seat anyway. You smile, nodding as he takes the seat. He’s close to you, your breath hitching as you feel his knee against you. “Sorry, I’m late, practice went long,” he tells you, leaning back.

You felt weird with him next to you, the tension between you after your last conversation still lingering as neither of you said a word. Cellini didn’t seem to notice, or, she didn’t care, simply greeting Tyson and then getting up to dance with her date. She was lucky enough to have a boyfriend, Seamus looking at her the way Tyson looked at you while they danced together.

“Do you want to dance?” Tyson finally asks you, standing up and holding his hand out to you before you answer. You nod, following him to the dance floor, just as a slow song starts to play. He holds you close, his hands on the small of your back, your arms draped on his shoulders. “I waited for you to follow me last night,” he tells you.

“What?” you ask in shock. You thought he left. If you had known he was waiting, you would have went to him. But why didn’t you? “I had no idea.”

“Would you have followed me?”

You didn’t even need to think about it, the immediate ‘yes’ coming into your mind. “Of course.”

“Then why are you waiting until you’re 23, of all ages, to let yourself fall for someone?”

“I’m not.”

It was Tyson’s turn to look at you with shock, his mouth hanging open slightly while he tries to find the words. “What are you saying?”

“Waiting is stupid when I have the perfect guy right in front of me,” you tell him, your fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck.

He doesn’t say anything, his hand leaving your back and finding your cheek to pull you in for a kiss. Everything melted away for a moment, everyone around you was gone while you were there with Tyson, the perfect, sweet, goofy, beautiful boy that you didn’t have to wait for to come into your life.

He was standing right in front of you.

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagines #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagines #avalanche #avalanche imagines #hockey #hockey imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #it took me an embarrassing amount of time to spell hockey help

204 notes · View notes

dregstrash · 2 years

Text

on this very day i officially enter mid 20s. and just for that here’s the start of a fic that i think about a lot, and hopefully will finish one day

aka: i only seem to post fics on my birthday

She was following him again. He could feel it like the smell of coming rain. The silence of her footsteps is as sure as the drop in pressure. The taste of lightning on his tongue was present just as he knew that her eyes followed him as he dodged through the regular partiers and revelers in the Barrel.

Kaz wanted nothing more than to tell her to do something else. Usually, he wouldn’t have minded Inej’s propensity to shadow him on his night business-- it just meant that there was at least someone watching his back, and just another set of ears listening for any snippet of conversation that could prove useful to them later. But tonight was different. He wished that he had assigned her to the Crow Club for the night despite the already full staff keeping the business running. He wished that he had her stakeout some merch’s mansion with Jesper to keep her busy.

He wished a lot of things, and even if he did just order his Wraith to turn around and go back to the Slat, he knew it was useless-- Inej was the one who told him about the ship that docked in Fifth Harbor, and she knew same as him, that where there was a storm there was usually trouble. And if she learned anything from being part of the Dregs, it was usually better to face problems head on--there’s a lower chance of getting stabbed in the back.

Kaz’s nostrils burned with salt just as he caught sight of the harbor. The wind carried the smell of rotting fish and unwashed bodies, and even that wasn’t enough distraction from the one flag that was blowing peacefully in the wind.

Inej materialized at his shoulder, and kept pace as he continued on his mission.

“How long has it been?” She whispered.

Two years. He thought bitterly.

“It doesn’t matter. I just want to know why he’s back.” Kaz muttered.

The dark wood of the ship--the Wandering Albatross-- gleamed against the full light of the moon, casting the entire vessel in an ethereal glow-- as if it needed any more embellishments.

“It looks like he made some additions.” Inej commented.

Kaz snorted, but just as he stepped on the gangplank, his attention snagged on a small detail.

“Is that a new shirt?”

The question must have caught her off guard, because a sort of choking noise came from the back of her throat before she said, “No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Liar.

“Don’t lie to me, Inej.” He growled.

She crossed her arms, and lifted her chin up to him in defiance, “I’m not a liar. And even if it was, what’s it to you?”

It means you’re just one of them, Kaz thought. He flashed to the gaggle of his own Dregs talking over each other at the Slat, about the ship and her captain, and then giggling when he walked by. And his hand started to close into a fist. But what came out was, “Just thought you’d be more focused on buying back your freedom, instead of looking pretty for the captain.”

Her look turned murderous, and he forced himself to turn back towards the gangplank and climbed uninvited into the sleeping vessel. He didn’t think too much on the realization he had just unintentionally called Inej pretty. He hoped that maybe she would be too furious to really process what he said. He might have even taken it back if it wasn’t for the sword unceremoniously shoved in his face as soon as he took one step on the deck.

“Didn’t know you had a death wish, Brekker.” A low voice said. Kaz sighed and put both hands on his cane. The sword tip was right on the tip of his nose, but he looked at the woman holding the sword and simply shrugged.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Makeba.”

There was a tense moment where neither party said anything, but eventually the sword lowered, and Makeba grinned. Her braids fell down over one shoulder, showing off the dark tattoo of a flight of birds displayed proudly against the rich brown color of her skin.

“I believe the last time we met, I thought I told you to keep him in line, girl.” Makeba’s attention turned to Inej.

“He doesn’t listen to anyone except his pride.” Inej sniffed.

The first mate of the Wandering Albatross only grinned wider at her response, and winked at Kaz, “Better keep that one close, Brekker. I suspect she’s saved your hide more times than you can count.”

You have no idea, Kaz thought.

“I’m assuming he’s down there.” Kaz said as he started to walk towards the stairs that led below deck.

Makeba nodded as she sheathed her sword, “He’s been waiting for you. Though, I’ll warn you not to break anything this time, if I have to hear him gripe again about how much it's going to replace his one of a kind blah, blah, blah I’m gonna run him through with his own sword.”

Kaz gave a small smile, “I’m surprised you’ve held out this long.”

Mischief danced in her dark eyes, as she gave him another wink, “He pays me too well for me to really complain. Have fun, Kazzie.”

The nickname grated against his ears, and he tried to hold his breath to keep him from retorting. He’s been known to be reckless, but even in the face of the former Novyi Zem merchant heiress, he knew when to shut his mouth.

He felt Inej by his side, and he tried to take another deep breath. This was just a business meeting. No more, no less. He’s done business meetings. He’s faced the worst of the Barrel-- he was the worst of the Barrel. He wasn’t going to be cowed by a pirate captain.

Even if it was his brother.

“Kazzie! I was wondering when you’d drop by.” His voice was light and jovial as always, and while Kaz had promised himself he would maintain a cool composure, it disappeared like the morning mist as he stepped into Jordie’s quarters with Inej following close behind.

His brother grew a beard. It was a light dusting of hair that accented his cheeks and drew more attention to the old scar that rested right on his cheekbone. His hair was long and parted to the side in roguish fashion. And even worse was the way his shirt was left carelessly unbuttoned to reveal the expanse of his torso.

Prick.

“And you brought the lovely Inej with you, how delightful.” His smile turned towards her, and it took all of Kaz’s effort to not turn to her and read her reaction.

“What are you doing in my harbor, Jordie?”

Jordie raised an eyebrow as he got up from his seat, all the while his smile never leaving his face. “No hello for a brother you haven’t seen in a while? No ‘where’s my present’ or ‘how have you been’?”

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here.” Kaz repeated. Slower this time. Careful to keep the mask of indifference settled on his face.

But Kaz wasn’t the only Rietveld in the room who could keep up appearances, because Jordie continued to smile good-naturedly as he stepped around the desk and approached Inej. He doubted Inej could see the practiced ease in Jordie’s steps. His expression was more bemused and wondering than welcoming.

“I’m wondering, Miss Ghafa, would you mind giving me and my brother a moment alone? It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

Before Inej could respond, Jordie’s hand moved quickly and produced a lily seemingly out of nowhere.

But surprisingly her focus wasn’t on the annoying display his brother just had to do, her eyes found his and an understanding passed between them.

Inej didn’t take the flower, but she did shut the door behind her.

“It really is good to see you, Kaz.” Jordie said as he settled back in his chair and gestured for Kaz to sit.

He didn’t.

“Answer my question.” He said instead.

“Can’t an older brother just sail into town and see his younger brother?”

Kaz leaned forward and growled, “Maybe if the older brother wasn’t so full of shit.”

There was no longer any warmth in Jordie’s smile. The facade of carelessness had been stripped away, and Kaz was finally staring at the man that had left him, an eleven year old boy, recovering in a sick bed to play pirate.

“I hear you’re second in command at the sorry lot Per Haskell calls a gang.” Jordie said casually. “I also hear that you were responsible for single-handedly rebuilding this harbor and turning a profit at the Crow Club. I also hear they start to call you Dirtyhands.”

“What’s your point?”

He shrugged.

“When I started sending you money to go to school, I didn’t intend for you to be a wannabe crime lord.”

“Is it too late or too early to say ‘takes one to know one’?”

Jordie sighed, his smile dropping completely.

“I wanted better for you, Kaz. I’ve told you that.”

“And your idea of better was leaving me?”

“I was giving you a chance. After what Rollins did to us, finding honest work was impossible, and you knew it. The least you could have done is try to make something of yourself.”

“I think I’m doing just fine. According to some of my sources, I’m making more than you are these days.”

“I’m being serious, Kaz. Mom and Dad wouldn’t have wanted this.”

Kaz felt the heat of anger roll over him in waves. This argument wasn’t new to either of them. The familiar cadence of veiled anger and guilt ladened sentences were a rhythm that both knew how to navigate.

But bringing up their parents was a blow Kaz did not expect, and despite his earlier thought of keeping this a business meeting disappeared entirely.

“And they would have been proud of you? An ass with an ego that barely fits into this ship?”

Jordie’s nostrils flared as his frown deepened.

He’s had it told to him, against his will, multiple times, by Jesper that his brother was seen by most people around the Barrel as someone that might be the best tumble of their lives, and each time he wanted to strangle his friend just to get him to shut up. But he wondered what Jesper (or anyone who agreed with him) would think if they saw his brother without that stupid as hell smirk.

Without that charm that named him the most dashing pirate that Ketterdam has ever seen, his brother seemed to have aged years and all was left was a hardened young man that didn’t look like he knew what he was doing.

“I’m not standing here all night,” Kaz continued his tone going down to a growl, “I’m gonna ask you one more time: What are you doing in my harbor?”

His brother regarded him carefully, and looked up to the ceiling before answering, “I’m looking for someone. And since you saved me the trouble of going to the Slat, you just might be the person that can help.”

Kaz struggled to keep the surprise off of his face.

“You’re asking me for help?”

“Keep your cane down,” Jordie said, “Just tell me if you have anything on a man named Xander Mantel.”

Silence dropped between them.

#Kaz Brekker #jordie rietveld #inej ghafa #kaz x inej #kanej #jordie lives au #pirate!jordie #soc fic #six of crows #will i finish this? maybe one day #maybe next birthday #who knows

64 notes · View notes

warmau · 3 years

Text

a sinking feeling has you rooted to the floor. staring at the lock of your front door as someone knocks politely over and over again.

“what are you doing?”

your mother’s voice gusts past you like a breeze, she leans over your frozen figure and turns the knob.

you step back to avoid being hit by the door and dread the light that washes over your mothers face

“doyoung! come in!”

he steps through and all you catch is a bit of side profile, hidden behind the gigantic plant he’s holding

“oh! that’s the orchid your mother was just up in a fit about? come here sweetie, place it on the kitchen table -”

his footsteps echo and you shrink a little, he didn’t even look at me.

you’re thankful for your mothers insolent obsession with being a good host and trudge your way back to your room

doyoung is in your house.

which is weird, the first time he was in your house - you knew, obviously, but he was uninvited. your mother didn’t welcome him through the door.

now - for the past month - after both his mother and yours had come to a unbreakable bond over their indoor houseplants

doyoung has very much been a presence, an invited presence, a presence everyone but you seemed to be delighted about

“he’s such a nice boy, he’s spending his summers tutoring younger kids and i see him biking all around town.”

your mother gushes almost every time at dinner after doyoung leaves - delivering whatever ailing plant his mother has sent to yours to fix and play botanist with

you pick at your food

yeah, he’s a nice boy. that’s what makes this all so much worse.

now - you’re laying on your sheets with your hand on your stomach and staring up at the wall thinking very much the same thought.

he’s so nice, and so perfect, and everything anyone ever dreams of. why am i such an idiot for not wanting that?

you drum your fingers and again spiral back into the memory that keeps itself wedged between you and him like a piece of food that’s stuck so sternly between teeth, no pushing at it with your tongue helps.

summer starts in ten days, officially you know - by the university calendar. you’re supposed to be focusing on a final paper for some elective politics class you took, but you’re not. you’re staring at the back of doyoung’s neck. he sits in front of you for most lectures.

“hey, do you know anything about this military-first politics and nuclear armament essay prompt the professor gave us?”

doyoung turns slowly, blinking at you from behind his thin-wired classes, “yeah - it’s been the topic of discussion and reading for like a week.”

you know you sound kind of stupid to even ask - but you will admit, politics isn’t your thing and it seems to really be doyoungs - so you smile, with a please pity me kind of look in your eye. doyoung sighs, but he gets up and slides into the seat beside you - opening up the half blank word document on your laptop.

that’s it. that’s all it was going to be. doyoung helping you skid by, so that your summer isn’t ruined by a shitty grade.

but that’s not what happens. at all.

doyoung instead spends a lot of time helping you write a good enough paper to pull through a B-.

that means a lot of alone time in the library, in study hall, in the empty halls of the school buildings where classes have ended and no one is around.

it’s a lot of being shoulder to shoulder with him, realizing how nice he always smells - how long his fingers are when they type - how he doesn’t have a significant other because no one except his friends ever end up interrupting you.

it’s the day after you get your grades for the semester, something about getting the paper back sparks a fire in you

you scope doyoung out at the coffeeshop and exclaim that you and him did it!

a couple of heads whip around, did it?, you quickly add some mumbling about the paper.

doyoung laughs, it’s the first time you’ve heard the genuine sound, because most of the time he just makes a half-sided smirk or chuckle.

you buy him an iced latte as repayment and somehow end up walking out of there with side by side.

doyoung asks if you live near by if you don’t dorm, you say you do. he does too. that’s weird - you’ve never seen him around the neighborhood.

after that you pretend it’s a blur. because truth be told it isn’t.

you and doyoung are going to be taking the same train anyway, why not take it together. you and doyoung are going to know the same little places around town, why not talk about them.

why not? why not? why not?

why not invite him inside when you’re back in your hometown, why not lead him up to your room just so he can see it and why not kiss him when he leans over you.

people your age do it all the time, they hookup. that’s the only answer to that stupid hanging ‘why not?’

so when you felt doyoung’s fingers graze down your side and he’d clumsily gotten his glasses off just in time for you to pull his shirt up over his head

you were convinced it meant nothing. you were convinced he thought the same.

then it all happens and you can’t take it back.

especially not the part where you’re laying on your bed, just like you are now, waiting for doyoung to start gathering his things and instead a hand loops around your sweaty waist.

“aren’t you going to leave?”

the words blurt out of your mouth before you even think about it.

the tension that stalled in the room had been so horrible you swore you’d felt it seep into every pore, damn near trickling itself down the walls.

doyoung had darkened, pulled himself away from you, and disappeared before you could string together your next thought.

part of you had been relieved, the other part felt like the biggest asshole on the planet.

you were just grateful the rest of the summer could easily be passed by keeping away from each other - until your mother had found her new best friend.

downstairs you can hear doyoung shuffling around with your mothers plants, you can’t make out what they’re saying, but you’re sure your mother is inviting him to stay and eat with you. asking doyoung about his amazing future plans to become a lawyer. enthralled by everything he is as a child and that you, most likely, are not.

when he finally leaves and the commotions die down you can’t get up

this is the most confusing moment.

not the whole ignoring each other when he pops over, not the whole reliving the past from just a glimpse.

it’s why - when it happened, you had been so content with it just staying nothing - you had been the one to make that decision for the both of you

yet

why does it seem like you’re wallowing in it, clinging to it, imaging it all over

every time he comes over

because you didn’t just want a hook-up. you wanted doyoung and were playing it off because having a crush on him isn’t worth it right?

your mind coils itself through a storm

you thought he only wanted to sleep with you too, because the thought of someone as good as doyoung liking you just doesn’t make sense?

despite the summer heat, you feel cold

you’re not good enough to actually be liked, to be the person doyoung chooses for something more than just your-

your phone rings and you sit up so fast it gives you a headache, you feel around and bring it to your ear without checking the number

“hello?”

“our mothers are trying to set us up on a date.”

you want to be anywhere in the world, but here.

doyoung’s blank expression doesn’t let you know if he feels the same, but the way he won’t get in at least eight feet of you is telling enough.

you’re in his backyard, well technically you’re in his neighbors backyard, because he doesn’t want to be visible behind the hedges

rather be caught dead than be next to me, right?

you shrill at yourself and try to bury the wince you make internally

“i think you should just tell them you have another boyfriend.”

“i can’t lie to my mother.”

you start and doyoung watches you chew on your lower lip and retreat defensively a step back

“why not?”

“she’s noisy - she’ll find out. she’ll insist until i die to meet this ‘other boyfriend’. plus i’m not a good liar.”

“really? could have fooled me.”

doyoung straightens himself as he says that, eyes unblinking behind the frames of his glasses

i probably deserve that. well actually-

“doyoung, i never promised you anything when we-”

the words wilt and doyoung suddenly looks over his shoulder.

“you’re right, you never promised me anything. im the one who was a fool for ever thinking it was something.”

you look at the grass.

you wonder, if you had not said that one sentence - aren’t you going to leave - would this summer be different?

would you and doyoung be spending every second together, holding each other at the beach? kissing under the fireworks? sharing ice-cream and diving into pools filled of water and your laughter?

the thought blooms something in your chest

i wish - i wish it was that.

“you say i should lie, but you’re pretty good at it too doyoung.”

“excuse me?”

“it’s not like you - it’s not like you really wanted it to be anything more than it was.”

you think the grass is going to burst into flames with how hard you’re concentrating on it.

“what, you’re telling me-” you swallow “you’re telling me you actually wanted to be with me after? our mothers are trying to get us to go on a date and you called me out here just to avoid that.”

he leans forward

“if you are trying to make me the only guilty party here-”

he’s closer and you feel your voice shake a little, but you try to push to the end of your thought.

“im not, you never made any effort to make it seem like you had any genuine emotion so am i so wrong for just assuming it was just se-”

his hands, large and gentle, manage to find your shoulders and doyoung presses his lips to yours

you stiffen from the external shock, but then relax under the light grip

his breath smells sweet, like he’s been chewing bubblegum, he’s wearing the same cologne he does at university

“i don’t just sleep with people.”

he whispers against your mouth

“nothing against it, but i don’t think there’s a point to sharing something intimate with someone who i don’t want in every possible way.”

when you and doyoung agree to go on a date - both your mothers lose it. they’re convinced you’re soulmates.

although you and doyoung both agree they’re thinking way too far ahead in the future - it doesn’t mask the fact that the attraction that ends up forming between you two is undeniable

doyoung is so determined and intently goal orientated that you would think there isn’t the capacity to have fun in one bone in his body, but that’s not true

when he’s comfortable, he’s charming and full of humor - he makes you double over with laughter more than you could have imagined

and you aren’t as spacey and shy as doyoung might have assumed either, you have a competitive streak and you make doyoung feel like this is the summer of his life

the summer of his life that someone could probably make a decent coming of age film out of

he brings it up after you two exit a movie that was just about the same topic and you look down at your hands intertwined and shake your head

“no they’d never cast the right people to play us.”

doyoung sees the reflection of the milky way in your eyes, but he doesn’t say it

“no one on this planet is like you.”

he returns this sentiment with a small kiss that bumps this glasses against the bridge of your nose.

you get nervous sometimes when you think about how the summer started, it’s not like you’re living in the middle ages where intimacy is a sin before eternal commitment or anything

no you just get nervous because the reason you ever even made that situation as bad as it was, was because of your insecurity

does doyoung actually like me? did two weeks of being together at school make him realize something about me is worth it?

you can’t ask him that - even though sometimes you want to, so you can explain why you hadn’t just rolled over and nuzzled yourself into the dip of his chest

much like you do now - you fit so perfectly right between his arms

instead it sometimes gnaws at you until doyoung is cleaning his glasses over your sink and you’re sitting in the bathtub looking at him

your parents are ironically over at doyoungs for some wine party or whatever and although your mothers are in awe about you two being “a cute lil couple”

they see that - cute, part of it makes you snort. you and doyoung sometimes act more mature than they do.

“i always knew you were staring at me in lecture.” he starts and a little smirk pulls at his long lips

you flick some of the water at him and he leans against the counter

he doesn’t like baths, he prefers showers, but he still stays in the room with you when you take them

“i wasn’t staring at you.”

“you were staring at the back of my neck.”

you look away because fair, not like he spends a lot of time looking away from the professor.

“so i knew you liked me, or something about me. that’s why it hurt.”

“when we-”

“yes and i like being logical, so not having a real answer for why that all happened like it did still haunts me.”

he tilts his head and you see the line of his thin collarbones through his shirt

“i thought you’d say it first.”

he blinks

“i thought you’d say something like, that was cool. ill see you at uni come fall. and then leave. so i mean, i didn’t even say go leave - i asked, aren’t you going to leave?”

doyoung is smart so he gets what you’re saying in the most roundabout way possible

he walks over and squats down, leans over the ridge of the bath to kiss you and doesn’t complain when you bring your soapy hands up to cradle his neck

“im sorry i did leave, i should have just said what i felt right there.”

he mutters and you nod. you should have said it too.

when you and doyoung graduate and he goes on to law school and you start working, you almost break up - twice - because of the stress

but somehow neither of you can ever ask the other one

aren’t you going to leave?

because neither of you ever really wants to.

so you don’t, you stay through all the hardships, through every argument and bump in the road.

you stay, you choose to stay and so does he and you might not even fall asleep next to each other on some days but the heat of the person you love is always there.

and then doyoung gets his first big promotion at his job, runs all the way home with the news and ends up breathing hard and talking nonsense to you in your shared kitchen

“you need a shower.”

you say, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he shakes his head, no. he needs a bath.

you lean back against his chest, stronger and broader as he’s aged.

he looks down at you and even the eyebags that have gotten darker with all that work he does don’t do anything to make him less attractive

you peck his chin, because it’s what you can reach.

“if we sit here any longer we’re going to prune.”

“are you going to be the first one to leave?”

he asks and you shake your head.

you’ll sit here forever if that’s what it takes.

on the counter of the bathroom, there’s one of the houseplants your mothers keeps shipping to you.

you don’t notice that it’s the same orchid that doyoung carried into your house all those years ago, when you thought he hadn’t even looked at you when your mother opened the door.

he curls a strand of your wet hair around his finger.

he had looked at you, quickly, but he had done it.

even half covered by orchid leaves, you’d made his mouth dry.

“no seriously though - we will prune.”

“i’ll get up if you get up?”

i’ll never leave, the only way i’ll leave is if it means im taking you with me.

#im late..........dont look at me #happy late bday king #doyoung au #doyoung scenarios #doyoung imagines #nct au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct #doyoung #nct 127 #nct u #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 au #nct 127 scenarios #member: doyoung #kim doyoung au #nostolgic au #suggestive/

514 notes · View notes

page150 · 3 years

Text

Ruined 📱César x Reader (Enemies to Friends)

Request: None :(

Pronouns: None Stated

Word Count: 1888

Warnings: angst, mention on killing

It was night time in Los Angeles. The sky with it’s beautiful great white clouds had already turned from bright blue to black. Before, when you had waited on your porch, you noticed a few stars that poked out in the sky. You had felt a light chill in the air and as you stressed inside, you knew it had increased.

In your living room you paced back and forth. Your phone clutched in your hand as you stared down at it. Waiting for anything really. With each random notification you felt your nerves sky rocket. None of them were the ones you needed to ease your nervousness. You tripped lightly on the small hills in the carpet that had been made from your pacing, and looked at it as a sign you should sit down.

Right as you sat down you heard a knock on the door. It was different from your guardians and not like your boyfriend’s. His was sharp and in a pattern that the two of you had created. This one was soft, only one gentle tap.

The door was opened and you felt your heart drop a little. It was only César, but you could barely see him. He was sheltered in a thick black coat, a black beanie that was scrunched in his hand. Memories of your last encounters with him flashed in your mind. All the missed calls, the lies, the arguments. The last thing you wanted to do was have him disturb whatever peace that remained in your empty home.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

In your head you smacked yourself at your response.

He walked in. You noticed that he still had his shoes on. He used to always take them off when he visited, because he knew that that’s how your guardian liked it. You rolled your eyes as he sat down on the couch and shuffled something in pocket. His eyes were low to the ground, head close to his neck. You could faintly hear the quick tap of his sneakers against the wooden floors.

“Is there a reason you're here? No offense, but usually you would call and it doesn’t look like you’re staying for long.” You ask, picking up your phone again.

“Yeah, I can’t stay for long” He pauses. In a way you were glad, you didn’t really want to see him anyways, but then his eyes glance at you, then turned away. “I just needed to ask you something.”

“What?”

He didn’t meet your eyes. You moved to sit down next to him, placing your phone on one of the cushions. You noticed how close you had gotten to him so you moved away a bit. You hated how you missed sitting next to him. Basking in the warmth he produced.

He perked up and put on a fake smile. “Olivia wants you to come to her quinceañera.”

You reply with a small smile at the sound of her name. “Does she really? I’m not that close with her, but I would love to go. Will Monse and Jasmine be there too?”

“Yup. She would really like for you to come. They all miss you.” He whispers.

Your smile falls. Now you’re looking at the ground as well. The chocolate colored wood isn’t as interesting as he makes it out to be.

“I know you didn’t just come here to tell me that. Spit it out. I'm busy.”

Cesar sighs and looks at you. You had never seen him so uncomfortable. It was like you sitting next to him was torture. He didn’t even act like this when he accidentally walked in on you in the bathroom one time. His eyes looked sad. Not glossy enough for tears to fall, but almost. He took a deep breath, mustering up courage to tell you the truth.

“Where’s Latrelle?”

You get up immediately at his words. By the sound of his name the room seemed louder now. Your hands grab your phone again and you sigh in relief as you feel it’s weight, but there were no missed calls from your boyfriend, not even a text message.

“What did he do now? Does he owe you money? I’ll pay for it, how much?” You rambled.

Cesar gets up as well. “It’s not about tha-”

“No I’m serious.” Walking towards your room you grab your wallet and pull out a bunch of crumbled bills. It was the money Latrelle had given to you for your birthday. The smell of the expensive perfume he partnered it with still lingered on the bills.

“This is $150, I can get more if he made a big mistake.” You joked. Cesar didn’t laugh, “so he made a really big mistake.”

“You know what I have to do, y/n.”

“No,” You gulp. “Just take the money. He’ll be back later and I’ll talk to him. I can talk to him, I’m very persuasive.”

“He rolled up on me and Monse, y/n. We could’ve gotten hurt. It’s not my decision, it's Oscar’s.”

“I’m sorry for that and I’m glad that both of you are okay, but you don’t have to kill him! He’s a kid, Cesar. We’re kids!”

“I’m a kid that almost got shot and now it’s his turn! Don’t you care about Monse? Don’t you care about me? I don’t know why you’re still dating him! Just be a good friend and give me the information.”

Something in you was switched on with what he said. Suddenly everything that had made you want to keep the door closed was back again. You dropped your phone and walked towards him. You push an accusing finger into his chest. All your anger that was fueled toward Latrelle moved towards Cesar in a wave that almost swept tears to fall from your eyes.

“I was a good friend and don’t you forget it. I was your friend! You pushed me away! I care about you, Ruby, Monse, Jamal, Jasmine, all of you! But, then you got all secretive and kept hiding things from me. You pushed me to the side and kept me away from your friends. It was supposed to be you and me and I don’t even care if you’re dating Monse now, but I was hurt. You hurt me and Latrelle was there when you weren’t. He was there after you ruined everything! Now you come into my house in the middle of the night asking me to rat him out? After you’ve ignored me for months? Fuck you!”

César opened his mouth to say something, but your phone vibrated on the floor. You both looked at it, Latrelle was calling, on your phone screen you could see the cute photo of you on his back pop up. It was taken at the fair, two weeks after César got Ruby to uninvite you to a party.

César looked away, “You can pick it up. Warn him if you want. You know I could never hurt you.”

Tears rolled down your cheek now. Any words that you wanted to say were clogged in your throat. The phone buzzed and buzzed until it stopped. You fell to your knees and clutched it, bringing it close to your chest. Sobs wrecked through you. They stomped at your heart and you knew what was going to happen. Cesar could only look down at you. He felt something pull him to you but he fought against it. He walked out the door closing it softly behind him.

“Cesar please,” You cried. You got to your feet and chased after him. The night was cold and you shivered at it’s emptiness. All around you the world seemed to have shut down. You and him were the only living things that dared to move.

You ran towards César and he opened his arms to bring you into a hug.

“If I don’t do this our friendship will be ruined. Your life will be ruined, y/n please let me go so I can come back to you.” He cried.

His arms wrap around you. His lovely warmth fought against the chill of night. You realize that the darkness that came from your face being pressed against his chest was more comforting then the darkness you knew would come from the absence of Latrelle. You ignore the feeling of the outline of a gun pressed against your abdomen. He held you up, as you suddenly felt heavy. You both fall to your knees. He pressed a kiss on your forehead, his hands moved to rub circles on your back.

“It’s not your fault, baby. I’m sorry for ghosting you. Life just got so hard. I didn’t want you to have to deal with it. I want you to stay safe.” He cries harder. You just hold him tighter, not wanting to let go. Not wanting it to end. For once you didn’t feel so angry when you thought about him, you could just enjoy his comfort, but memories don’t just disappear like that.

“I will. I can stay safe. I just want you to stay safe too. I know you'll kill him regardless of what I say. I’ll be honest, Latrelle’s made a lot of mistakes.” You take a deep breath. “In a weird way I’m glad you're doing it, he’s made so many enemies, but I don’t want him bleeding out near the gutter like garbage. Don’t hurt him, be quick.”

The both of you sat there in silence for a while. Collapsed in each other's arms like tired returning lovers. César cleared his throat.

“I have to ask,” He muttered. “Why are you so calm about this?

You pause for a moment. Why were you so calm? Internally you didn’t feel calm. You felt like a kid desperate for love. You felt disloyal for ratting out someone who at least attempted to make time for you. Choosing to rebuild friendship with César or to keep someone alive who doesn’t want to change was so incredibly difficult. To calm your mind you told yourself it was going to happen either way. If César doesn’t kill him, Oscar will, or some other person would get him. It was a matter of time, but César had treated you wrong. Feeling a headache storm in your mind you responded.

“I’m not stupid I know how this works. Latrelle could have shot you or Monse. I hate how he always tries to be someone he isn’t. I hate it.”

He looks down at you. Not necessarily a smile, but his face showed that a weight was lifted. One of many. A face that ignored a weight that was now pulling you down. He lifted your chin up moving to kiss you. You turn your head and pull away.

“I don’t think I can. I haven’t forgotten.” You mumble.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders. “That’s okay and I’m truly sorry y/n.”

You nod and look up at the few stars. Maybe there were more, but it was a cloudy night.

“You should go home.” He suggests.

“Okay.” You move his arm and get back up. You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, he noticed it.

“Y/n…”

“Goodnight César.” You replied.

You wrapped your arms around your body and walk away. Leaving Cesar where he was in the dark.

Author's Note: ok so there might be a part 2 to this so stayed tuned! follow my twitter for updates @/thepage150 anyways i got my first 60 notes on a post so you can hold the applause thank you thank you! & REQUESTS ARE OPEN so please leave a request! [no smut/no real people (ex. Harry Styles, Dream)] If you enjoyed this please like and follow for more. I have a huge surprise when we reach 100 <3!! Have a wonderful day ~c'k

157 notes · View notes

deliciousangelfestival · 3 years

Text

Loving You Is Too Difficult - Don’t Let Me Go - Chapter 7

Don’t Let Me Go

youtube

Character: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Words: 4,797

Theme: Angst.

Author Note: Fiuh, finally it’s completed. It’s pretty challenging to edit this one. Thank you for joining the ride. I hope you enjoy reading the last chapter. I will post the epilogue tomorrow.

In this chapter, there will be a mixed point of view between the reader and Steve.

Divide from @firefly-graphics

Song prompt that inspired me for this chapter is Cigarettes After Sex - Don’t Let Me Go.

(Y/N) P.O.V

Four days before they met.

“Are we there yet?” Oliver asked.

After a long flight for 18 hours, you finally could answer, “Yes dear, the pilot said the plane would land shortly.”

“Brother, wake up.” Ollie patted Harley’s chest. From the day you introduce both of them, they become close like real siblings. Oliver likes having a big brother.

You chuckled, seeing the way Oliver woke Harley from his sleep. It made Harley mumble, ‘Five more minutes’. After he successfully annoys his big brother, Oliver jumps down from the seat and sits on your lap. “I can’t wait to meet sister Morgan, aunty Pepper, uncle Rhodey, Happy, Grandpa Ross…-”

His excitement affects you too; you kiss his forehead, “We will see them tomorrow.”

“Miss (Y/N).” One flight attendant approaches you.

“Yes?”

“We just got a message from the air control. Someone is waiting for you.”

“Who?”

“Mr. Pym and Mr. Lang.”

You were surprised. It’s been three years since you met Hank. You wonder what happened exactly that made him want to meet you.

When the plane landed safely on the runway, you saw two people standing inside the hangar. You waited until the airstair put down completely.

The moment you saw Hank and Scott, you could notice something wasn’t right.

“Hank, what’s wrong?”

“(Y/N). I’m sorry.”

“I have breached our deal.” Hank hit Scott’s shoulder. “Scott fixed the time-heist machine secretly.”

Your heart thumped when Hank mentioned the time-heist machine.

“Uhm… Something happened?”

Hank didn’t look directly in the eye and said “He came back.”

####

Three days before they met.

You don’t remember how you got back after knowing Steve didn't stay in his old time. You were silent for the whole day. Ross, who came by to the Stark Mansion also to see Oliver noticed you look lost. “My assistant told me someone hacked our system. Guess what they’re looking for?”

You never doubt how Ross' intelligence works. You sighed and answered, “Me.”

“So the rumor is true. Steve Rogers is back.” Ross’s fingers tap the table “... and he’s looking for you.”

You slowly nodded.

“I guess he will be there tomorrow. Do you want me to cancel the event?”

You surely don’t want the event canceled because of you. “Don’t do that, Ross. You haven’t celebrated your birthday for a long time, it is also a reunion party, to meet your old friend. Also, this will be the first time for Ollie to perform in front of the public.”

“That boy.” Ross shook his head while smiling. “He must be practicing diligently.” He looks through the window watching Oliver and Harley play catch together.

“Oliver wants to make his grandpa proud.”

###

Two days before they met.

You’re not supposed to feel nervous, even with the experience of performing a hundred times, but you did.

Because you knew he would be here. You wonder if he would show up and end up making a ruckus.

Ross told you, “If he tries to approach both of you, my men will be ready. Should I prepare a sniper?”

You chuckled at his crazy idea; you don’t know if he’s joking or serious. "Do you want to make Oliver scarred for life?”

Both of you perform without any mistakes. You can feel Oliver’s fingers shaken for a moment, but since you were beside him, he’s not scared anymore.

Oliver lifted his head and smiled when he saw his family giving him a standing applause.

After the performance, all of you sit at the dinner table. Rhodey, who sits beside you, whispers to your ear, “There’s an uninvited guest, but it seems like he doesn’t want to join. He prefers to stay away and watch both of you.” He shows you a photo of Steve in his disguise. Your first thought was, ‘He is still bad at wearing a disguise.’

You notice Oliver seems bored, so you let him walk around. You knew Steve was still watching over him. You don’t understand why you are using this chance for both of them to meet.

Harley told you he found Ollie talking with someone near the fish pond. “This is the first time I saw Ollie not scared with a stranger.”

‘Of course, because that man is his father.’

You didn’t tell Harley about Steve's homecoming since it looks like he doesn’t want to show his face.

If he wants to be a shadow, so be it.

When the guest starts to leave, one guest gets too familiar and gives a peck on your cheeks. You meet people like him once in a while; they try to flirt and impress you. But none of them can make your heart flutter, even for a bit.

Because part of you died after Tony died, and after Steve left, you have no desire to open up your heart with someone else because you are afraid of another heartbreak.

Your goal right now is to be a good mother for Oliver, a good aunt for Morgan, and a mentor for Harley.

####

One day before they met.

Right now, all of you are standing in front of the Stark Tower. You want to show Oliver the building that you built together with Tony. The last megaproject that you ever had with him. It seems like yesterday Tony told you about clean energy.

Happy welcome you and showed three of you around the tower. When you arrive at the top floor, suddenly the building is filled with the sound of an alarm. The loud sound made Oliver jump to your arms.

“Friday, tell me what happened.” It turned Rhodey and Ross, who told Friday to give a warning if Steve is near.

Friday, turn on the screen inside the room. Your eyes widen when you see Steve battle with Rhodey.

“It’s daddy.”

You looked down at Oliver, who recognizes Steve. You didn’t hide the truth about Steve when Oliver asked about his father. He knew his father used to be Captain America, and he’s proud of it. He’s entirely focused on watching the screen. He screamed when he saw Rhodey successfully land his fist on Steve.

It’s not suitable for children to watch violence like this; you turn off the screen that made Oliver sulking.

You bring Happy towards the private elevator. “Tell them to stop. And tell Steve to meet tomorrow at Stark Mansion.”

Happy thought he misheard you, but you look dead serious. “But why?” You didn’t answer him. He followed your gaze, watching Oliver, who was in Harley’s arm. Crying.

Happy went down to the ground floor, he didn’t want to see Steve, but he did it for Oliver.

####

The day they met.

‘THUMP.’

That’s the loud sound from Steve’s heart. Right now, he stands in front of the entrance door. He arrived at 8 a.m. He could’ve knocked but he is nervous as heck. When the clock showed 10.55, he braced himself to knock on the door.

‘Ring!’

It seems like only yesterday he came to this house to see Howard. Before, if it’s not human Jarvis who opens the door, it would be Maria. But in this era, it was Friday the A. I who welcome him.

“She’s waiting in the music room,” said Friday.

Steve feels he’s not ready to meet you. But it’s now or never. When he got closer to where you are, he could hear the music and giggle.

There you are, sitting in front of the grand piano with Oliver. You look beautiful, like the first time he met you. Under the sunlight that came through from the French window, both of you look like an angel.

You sense his presence. When you turned around, you saw him again for the first time after three years. You can feel he’s nervous.

While Steve was dumbfounded when you finally acknowledge him, you are not shocked at all. You seemed calm.

You tried your best to keep calm, then you whispered to Oliver, who was still busy playing with piano tuts, “Olie….”

“Yes, mommy?”

“Look behind you.”

Oliver turns his body; when he sees Steve standing behind him.

“Daddy!!!” He immediately rushes towards Steve and opens his arms.

When Steve heard his son call him daddy for the first time, his first thought was,‘He knew me?’

Oliver opens his arms as a sign to be picked up.

Steve's mind was blank, but his body moved by itself. His son is in his arms right now.

He holds Ollie at the party, but today is different. Because that night, both of them were strangers, but now they are father and son.

In that brief moment, they bonded.

You saw Steve and Oliver have their moment.

It is such a beautiful scene. You notice Steve rests his head on Oliver’s shoulder and puts his head down.

Steve is crying.

Physically he looks strong, but emotionally, he's not.

His heart is painful right now; it felt like someone poured acid into his broken heart. He can't help but cry because he felt like a failure. He failed as your lover and as a father.

There was an awkward moment for sure, a short ‘Hi’ and ‘Hello,’ but it’s gone because both of you have a silent agreement to have a peaceful afternoon for Oliver.

“I want to sit next to Daddy!”

Three of them sat down for lunch; the scene looks like a happy family.

When the three of you sat at the same table, Steve asked you if you would leave. He knew that you never stay in one place for an extended period.

"You're not leaving the State?"

"No, I have to attend Stark’s annual shareholder’s meeting in New York." Steve silently nodded; he wished not to be parted from both of you again.

Time flies by, Steve doesn't realize it’s already late, and he has to leave. "Daddy, are you leaving again?" Oliver snuggled in Steve’s arms and refused to let go. "Can you stay?"

Steve looked at you when he saw you nodded.

Perhaps Steve was hoping that he could stay the night. That’s why he brings changing clothes.

His son wished to sleep with both of his parents. There’s no way he would deny that request.

Three of you ended up on the same bed. Ollie moves closer towards Steve; he finally could snuggle with his father. “It’s so warm.” He never thought his dream could come true to have his mother and his father right now.

Steve looked at the beautiful features you slept. His heart is aching a lot for you.

You must have been through a lot by yourself raising a son.

Steve hated himself a lot.

Steve was caught up with the fear that you might leave him.

But in the end, he’s the one whole left you.

Steve felt the bed shaken a bit. He doesn’t want to wake up because he’s afraid this is just a dream of having you and him sleeping together.

But Steve realized that this is not a dream. The reason why he’s awake now is that he wants to talk to you.

He walks around the big house, wandering where you are until he hears a kettle sound from the kitchen.

There you are, standing beside the counter making drinks.

Without taking a glance at him, you know he’s in the same room. “I just made some tea. Do you want some?”

“Thank you,” Steve replied with a shaky voice.

When you put down the cup, it made him remember that both of you used to spend time together, if he weren’t drawing you and another thing he would read some book while you make a piece of new music.

He felt something odd and lost; the way you welcome him is just unusual. Somehow he believed that you wouldn’t even give him a chance.

The silence between both of you makes him nervous.

Steve has prepared what he wants to say to you, but now he has become speechless. It’s you who started the conversation by asking him, “Have you found what you’re looking for?”

He knew what your question meant. He clenched his fist, his nails digging into his palms. This kind of pain is nothing compared with how he abandoned you. With a low voice, Steve answered, “No.”

“(Y/N), I…” Steve tried to explain.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Steve.” You took a sip, then continued, “The reason why I let you in is because of Oliver. If you want to make amends, all I ask is for you to become a good father for him. Don’t disappoint him.” ‘-Like the way you disappoint me.’

Your words hurt; he felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. You didn’t want to give Steve a chance to explain; you got up from your seat. “If you want to stay, there’s a guest room on the second floor.”

Steve felt like he’s losing you. Since that night, you keep walking away when he gets close to you. And he’s afraid if you have someone else that is able to replace him. Steve could feel the invincible wall that you had built around yourself.

You are too calm and low-key; you still answer him but never being the one who asked him. You don’t reject him, but neither do you warm up to him.

Steve felt like a visitor.

You never once showed your anger. It made Steve feel most frightened!

It was as if he was no longer necessary to you.

Steve keep telling himself that even if you hate him, he will become a good father towards Oliver. Like right now, Steve has quality time with his son.

Oliver talks to Steve about his day “-and then….”

Steve knew Ollie’s talking ability was still progressing; he kind of stumbled in his words, but he’s trying his best because he wants to tell his story to his father. Steve caresses Oliver’s chubby cheeks. “It’s okay, take your time,”

Oliver’s eyelids start to get heavy, and he lets out a small yawn. “Daddy’s hands are warm and gentle. It makes me feel happy and sleepy.”

Steve almost let tears slip away. He kisses Ollie’s chubby cheeks, “I’ll protect you for the rest of my life.”

One day there’s only Oliver and Steve inside the house. Steve couldn’t be more happier when Ollie show his drawing. His son share the same hobby. Both of them was sitting on the floor together when Ollie said “Mommy is sad.”

Steve frowned his eyebrows “Why did you say that, Ollie?”

“She doesn’t smile like she used to. But now mommy doesn’t drink medicine to help her sleep.”

You had insomnia after the post-tantrum. Without sleeping pills, you wouldn’t be able to sleep. You hide from Ollie when you drink the medicine, but somehow, he still knows.

Steve felt a pang in his heart; what kind of torment had you been through?

Steve is gently patting Ollie’s hair. “It’s because of daddy’s fault.”

Ollie gasped and pouted, looking at his father. “Daddy has to apologize.” He clapped his tiny hands. “Ah, Ollie knew how to cheer up mommy.”

“Daddy will need Ollie’s help then.” Steve hugs Ollie tightly.

Every day he needed to capture your heart. He tried by giving you flowers, jewelry. Even the florist became well aware because Steve always came to his store. The minute Steve walks in to buy another flower, “Another one for (Y/N)?”

You never rejected his gift, but it seems like you receive a birthday gift the way you received it. But one day, you had enough and decided to ask him.

“Steve, are you planning to use this tactic to soften my heart?”

Steve was silent at the moment until he nodded. “If I can gain your forgiveness, then you are correct.”

Your face remained cold, “So you are finally able to move on from your first love, huh?”

Steve solemnly gazes at you “(Y/N); I was an idiot. It was too late for me when I realized that you’re the one for me, and my life is yours.”

“I find it hard to believe because of the reality... you left me.” You laughed sarcastically.

“(Y/N), when I went back there’s nothing happened with and Peggy-”

“Steve, I don’t think you’re a kind man.” You couldn’t help to interrupt him. You didn’t want to give Steve a chance to explain because every time he mentioned Peggy, every word he said pricked your heart.

“Because you saw her go through a time heist and saw her holding your old photo gave you enough reason to come back for her? Honestly, I find that hard to accept.”

“I don’t have lingering feelings anymore towards Peggy.”

“I dare you to say that name again!!!”

From the beginning, you knew this relationship still has a living thorn because Steve has Peggy in his heart.

“I gave you a chance. You’re the one who wastes it!”

You were fine for Steve to stay for Oliver, but asking you back it’s too much.

“You’re right (Y/N); I’m a selfish man.”

He walked closer to you and asked with a gentle voice, “(Y/N)... I want you to tell me honestly. Do you still love me?”

You felt your eyes start to sting. “Loved….Used to….”

Steve felt as if he had been struck by lightning; he clenched his teeth. If you ultimately moved on… He will never accept it.

Steve gathered his courage to say these words “ (Y/N) I’ll give up on you if I could no longer love you.”

You start to recount the events every time he left you. “After you left, because of the accord, I was waiting for you. You left a phone number, but at least I want you to be the first to call me. I always left my phone on. Hoping you would call. But no, none of it.”

“When left again to return the stone, you didn’t say anything to me. You fucking abandoned me.”

“I’m a bad mother…." "Sometimes…” You closed your eyes and choked up; you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. “I wish Oliver didn’t have your eyes. It hurts seeing him reminded me of you.”

Steve reached to grab your fingers “I’m sorry (Y/N)...”

“I’m not done, Steve….” You opened your bloodshot eyes and turned to look at Steve.

“At two years old, Oliver is a smart kid. He asked where his father was. I don’t want to hide anything from him, so I show him the video of you. Oliver looks so happy, but at the same time, he feels sad because he has no father.”

“Oliver is proud to have a superhero father. He kept asking me about your achievement, and I have to answer it. Every time I have to tell him about the good things about you, I feel a knife twisted in my heart because he doesn't know that his father left for another woman."

Steve froze. He imagines little Ollie asking for him and wishing his father beside him.

“Let me ask you, why must we be together? You… who cares more about his best friend and his first love than me?” You finally said what you’d been keeping inside your heart.

Steve’s throat hurt so much that he couldn’t say a word.

“This time, we should be co-parents for Olliver. Steve, you have to let me go.”

“I can’t.” Steve’s hand still clutched yours tightly.

“From today on, I’ll stay by your side and not go anywhere else.”

Steve looks at you with reddened eyes “(Y/N). Back in 2016, I was ashamed and felt guilty because I didn’t tell you about your parents.”

“When I left, because… I’m not good enough for you. When your life starts to get entangled with me, you lose too many friends and brothers. I love you so much, but I felt guilty towards you. If I didn’t stop Fury and Tony’s invention, we could stop Thanos, and Tony wouldn't die. I thought after I left, you could have a simple life without me.”

Steve placed your hand over his heart. “I’m a petty and jealous man. I couldn’t imagine seeing you being happy with someone else.” That’s why he chooses to stay in a different era, but look what happened? He hurt many people because of his selfishness.

You were surprised to hear this. You finally understood now. It turns out Steve was unable to forgive himself. He couldn’t allow himself to be happy.

“I know I’m so far from a second chance. But from today on… I only want to love you earnestly! Let me show you my sincerity, show you how much I want to be with you forever.”

You are angry with Steve. “You can’t just come back here and expect me to welcome you with open arms.”

“I know I don’t deserve your love and trust (Y/N). I know I sound like a jerk, selfish bastard for this. But please let me stay beside you.”

You calmly stayed in Steve’s embrace and listened as Steve choked and cried, “You can use me or even break me. I don’t care. Please don’t cast me away.”

“I’m begging you.”

He refused to let go.

“I’m sorry for everything (Y/N).”

Steve said whatever came to his mind because his goal is none other than to keep you by his side.

He knew it’s not going to be easy.

He knew it’s going to be difficult to make you love him again.

After that night, Steve decided to give you some space. He’s afraid if he stays close, you would hate him more.

Steve still goes out and saves the world. He told you if you ask him to quit, he will do it. But you will never do that because saving the world is his job. You only say, "I won't ask much. Just tell me when you leave and come back from the mission."

He told you everything about his schedule and mission. He didn’t hide anything from you.

You told Oliver that Steve wouldn’t visit for a while because he has to go on a mission. He was sad at first, but he’s proud because ‘his daddy is a superhero.’

You thought nothing could go wrong until you received terrifying news.

Steve got hurt because of the mission, and he almost made it.

You felt your legs weaken. You didn’t remember how you arrived at the hospital.

Right now, you’re in the patient room, looking at the person who seems weak because of the painkiller.

“Worried about me?” With pale lips, Steve revealed a weak smile at you. He was amused when he woke up; there’s you sitting beside him.

When you saw him wake up, your first thought ‘This man, how can he still smiling when he is almost on the verge of death?’

“Of course, I’m worried and what would happen if Oliver sees you like this.” You get up from your seat after pressing the button to inform the doctor. When you left the room, you felt at ease seeing him wake up.

You and the doctors ordered him to stay at the hospital, but he insisted on going home. Nothing could stop him. Even if he’s dying, all he wants right now is to be with you and Oliver.

When both of you arrived at home, you planned to let Steve rest first. Then he could see Oliver tomorrow morning. But it turned out Oliver didn’t sleep at all. He ran to you with tears on his face since he saw Steve look hurt from hand casts and bruises. “Mommy, daddy got hurt.”

You try to calm him down. “It’s okay, baby. Daddy is a super-soldier. He will be alright.” You looked at Steve.

Steve felt stabbed seeing his son cry because of him. “That’s right, buddy. I’ll be okay tomorrow morning.”

“Really?” Oliver lifted his head and looked at Steve.

Steve chuckled, seeing the snot on Ollie’s nose. He wiped the tears and nodded. “Because both of you are here, I’ll be alright.”

That night, Ollie refuses to separate from Steve. Seeing Oliver fall asleep on Steve’s chest made your heart soften.

You couldn’t possibly ignore the father and son relationship.

Your tears start to slip.

If Steve never left, he would become a great father, and Ollie would never cry at night wishing to have a father.

Steve wakes up from his sleep because he could hear a sound. He saw you crying.

He promised himself not to make you cry again, but now you’re crying because of him. With care, he removes Oliver from his chest and makes sure he doesn’t wake up.

Steve quickly got up and chased you. When he got closer and touched your shoulder, he got a surprise attack from you like nine years ago.

‘SLAP.’

You slap his right cheek, the next he does is give you the left cheek. This time he won’t run away. You're not even holding back to slap him again, forming another handprint on his face.

It was like you were venting out all your resentment, placing all your strength in your fists to express the rage and unspeakable grievances you have experienced! "Why? Why are you still able to make me worried? Why do I still care about you? I hate you! You jerk! Why are you treating me like this?" You rage at Steve until your voice is hoarse, then start to push him away.

Even though his super serum helps him, Steve doesn’t move, but the part of his body that you hit can. It hurt him. He is still standing firmly in place as he locks his deep gaze towards you.

You had every right to be angry! In the past three years, you have gone through so much.

His gentle expression almost drives you mad.

"Don't stare at me like that! Stop! Just don't!" As tears well up in your eyes, you try to endure, preventing them from falling. As though crying would be like admitting something.

You have always been resisting, always refused to admit. Your feelings towards Steve are not as much as in the past, but you are still affected when you see his reddened eyes and how weak he was on the hospital bed.

It’s embarrassing to admit it, but deep down, you miss him.

Steve remains silent throughout this exchange. Listening to your rapid breath as though you were holding back your tears. He brings you into his arms.

God knew how many times he yearned to reach out to touch you. Gently, like he used to, caressing your face.

Finally, after waiting for ten years, he could have you again.

"Shh, don't be afraid. I'm here. I'm here for you." His voice is so soft and so tender, like a feather gently enveloping her. "I won't leave. I won't abandon you. I'm right here beside you."

You open your eyes, lashes lightly fluttering. After a while, a tear accidentally flows down, one drop followed by another, dripping onto Steve’s shoulder, causing his heart to tense.

Three years ago, he left you alone crying. But this time, he would never let you cry alone again. Steve hugged you tightly. His big hand gently stroked your back.

“You’re an idiot.”

Steve agreed with that. “I know.”

You bit your lips, trying hard to hold back the tears. “One last time.”

Steve thought he heard it wrong when he lifted his head; you were already looking at him. “I’m not promising that I will open up my heart towards you again. But I won’t push you away.”

“Thank you (Y/N).” Steve hugged you tightly. This time, he won’t let the last chance go in vain.

A few days later

Steve is giving a brief for Bucky and Sam before they leave. After both of them went., he got a surprise guest. Ross and Rhodey are inside his office.

“You’re a sly man Rogers,” Ross said with a cold tone.

“What do you mean?” Steve gave them a questioned look.

“That mission was meant for Wilson. Since he could fly.”

Both of them checked the mission details, and it turned out Steve volunteered himself. Steve is an expert in planning. Why did he make a stupid mistake?

It turned out Steve had other plans.

He crossed his arms, then scoffed. What they just said is correct; if he got hurt was the only way to get your attention. He will do it over and over again, “So, are you going to tell (Y/N)?”

Rhodey shook his head. “We will let it go this time. Not because of you. But it’s for (Y/N) and Oliver. I could see your sincerity begging for her forgiveness.”

“And then Oliver, I want him to be happy,” Ross added.

Years ago, he would be mad toward Ross, but Steve owed him. Because Oliver could have a grandfather, and Ross genuinely cares for his son.

“Thank you, gentleman. I’m in debt towards you both.” Steve felt relieved since he got the blessing from Ross and Rhodey.

Now Steve's last mission is to guard you and Oliver with his life.

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers angst #Steve Rogers x Female Reader #steve rogers x y/n #marvel #loving you is too difficult

92 notes · View notes

omiscurls · 3 years

Text

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

193 notes · View notes