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#I did write at least one short angst fic about them so I think that counts
origami10 · 1 month
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Takagen for ship bingo? 🤔
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I'm sorry, I can't go five years not knowing they're [spoilers] and then just drop it on the reveal. Especially when canon up to that point is just Like That™︎. I'll ship anything in Ajin for the hell of it to see where fanfic can take it.
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chahnniesroom · 18 days
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cross my heart
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pairing: bang chan & female reader, hwang hyunjin & female reader
summary: chan has quickly become one of your closest friends at university. too bad his girlfriend, hayoon, has him wrapped around her little finger and she's determined to make your life miserable. hyunjin is just enjoying watching the drama unfold.
word count: 4.0k
tags/warnings: angst!!! hurt and maybe some comfort?, infidelity (not between the reader or chan/hyunjin), arguing, the relationships with the reader are more like friendships than dating (please let me know if you think there should be more tags/warnings)
a/n: totally thought this was going to be a short fic (like less than 1k words) but it blossomed into something more. i wanted to try something different with this fic but not sure if i pulled it off lol please be kind if you comment! i also did not to bother with honourifics so... you can pretend that chan, hyunjin, and y/n are all the same age 😅
read it on ao3 | masterlist
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It's almost funny how quickly you and Chan become friends. 
You hadn't really been looking forward to taking a technical writing class, but it's one of the requirements to get your degree and at least the lecture is large enough that you won't have to do any in-class participation. When the professor announces that one of the very first assignments is going to be completed in random pairs, you're instantly nervous. It’s only after meeting Chan, who is easygoing yet studious, that you feel better.
Although the group assignment only takes a couple weeks to finish, you find yourself hanging out more and more. Chan has a natural way of writing, he's intelligent and efficient with his wording without sacrificing clarity. While you can eventually write something that’s fairly clear and concise, it takes a lot of effort and a lot of time so you're grateful to be working with Chan who doesn't struggle with tight timelines like you do.
The two of you grow close together, especially once you realise that you have a similar sense of humour and taste in music. It doesn't take long before technical writing is your favourite class. Chan always saves you a seat beside him, even though he has quite a few friends that are also taking this course. You’re not used to it at first, but you grow comfortable with the way that he leans over to make quips about whatever the professor is saying or pointing out if someone in the lecture hall is falling asleep. You sometimes bring him snacks and in exchange he brings you a drink.
The more you learn about Chan, the more you're convinced that he's perfect.
Well, apart from one thing.
The worst thing about Chan is his girlfriend. Jung Hayoon absolutely hates you and, behind Chan's back, never fails to make sure you know it too. While the two of you have never shared any courses, she regularly meets Chan after class is over and you've been invited to join them and some other friends for a meal or to study so you've interacted with her more than you want to.
You’re not quite sure what you've done to earn Hayoon's ire, but you can only guess that it's your blossoming friendship with Chan as she’s never seemed to care about you before you met him. She takes every opportunity to make backhanded compliments, pointed comments about how much or what you're eating, or loudly exclaiming when you have something stuck in your teeth. You try not to let it get to you, but you're always been a bit too sensitive.
You start declining offers to hang out with Chan and the rest of his friends after class, trying to ignore Chan's disappointment and Hayoon's smug smile every time that you make excuses.
Of course, she's sickly sweet around Chan, constantly hanging off his arm, batting her eyes at him, and trying to hold his attention. You can't really stand her obviously fake behaviour, but she makes Chan happy so you don't say anything negative about her when Chan's around.
You aren’t the type to keep up with school gossip, but even you know that Hayoon's track record is far from pristine. In fact, you were surprised to hear that someone as genuine and kind as Chan was in a relationship with someone like Hayoon.
The library isn't your favourite place to study, but partway through midterm season you're desperate for a change in scenery. You spend the better part of the day completing practice exams for the course you're the most worried about until you finally feel more confident. Satisfied with your progress and excited at the prospect of eating a proper meal rather than the snacks that have kept you going so far, you quickly pack up.
There aren't too many people in the library since it’s so close to the weekend, a lot of students have either finished all of their exams for the week or just given up studying. Maybe that's why your attention seems so drawn to the couple that you pass on the way to the door.
You don't mean to do anything other than quickly glance at them, but the familiarity of the girl catches your eye. The carefully styled hair and slim figure is a common combination to see at your university, but after weeks of trying to avoid her, there’s no mistaking Jung Hayoon.
And it's not Chan that she’s currently kissing.
You stumble away from them, but not before Hayoon looks up and spots you. Instead of panicking or stopping, she continues making out with the boy, maintaining eye contact with you. She even has the audacity to wink. You stare at her for a second, stunned, then bolt out of the building.
You're so flustered that you don't know what to do or where to go. You end up walking to the nearest bench and sitting down heavily in it.
You knew that you didn't like Hayoon, that she was two-faced and had likely cheated on past partners, but you hadn't expected to ever catch her in the act, especially while she was dating Chan. You couldn't fathom why anybody would want anything else when they had him and you had never been able to understand cheating in the first place.
You have to tell Chan, you decide. As much as you hate difficult conversations and it kills you to be the bringer of bad news, you know that you'd never be able to sleep at night if you tried to hide this from him. If you were in his position, you would prefer to know as soon as possible.
You call him as you start heading in the direction of his dorm.
“Hey,” Chan picks up after only a few rings. “Is everything okay? You don't usually call.”
“Uhm-” You have no clue what to say, you didn't think this through enough before dialling. “Where are you? I- Can I come talk to you?”
“Y/n? What's wrong?” Chan's instantly concerned.
“Nothing, I just- I really need to talk to someone right now,” you say quickly. “I'm fine, I mean.”
“Okay. I'm at home right now, but I can come meet you if you need? Where are you?”
“Don't worry about it, I'll head over, if that's okay.”
“Sure,” Chan says, sounding extremely worried. “Be safe, Y/n. I'll see you soon.”
After you hang up, you don't quite run to Chan's place, but you're out of breath and sweaty by the time you make it. You take a moment to compose yourself before requesting access into the building, but you know you still look frazzled. Chan buzzes you in immediately and he’s waiting in the hallway when you step out of the elevator. He guides you into his room, but only after checking you over and making sure that you're physically okay.
“Y/n, you're scaring me,” he says after leading both of you to sit down at his tiny kitchen table. “Tell me what's got you so worked up.”
“Do you know where Hayoon is today?” you ask, probably sounding insane. Chan pauses for a moment, brow furrowed before he responds.
“I know that she has a final tomorrow, so I assume that she's studying. Why, what's up?”
“She didn't say where or who she was going to be with today?”
“No, but it's not like I'm tracking her all the time. She's her own person, she's not obligated to constantly update me.”
“I saw her at the library.”
“Okay,” Chan says slowly.
“She was with someone else, a guy.”
“Why are you telling me this, Y/n?” Chan asks, starting to sound annoyed. His tone catches you off guard.  “This is why you called me, why you ran over to my place? If you think I'm that controlling-”
“They were kissing,” you interrupt. “She’s cheating on you, Chan.”
“Who was the guy?”
“I- I didn't see him well, his back was towards me so I couldn't recognize him,” you falter.
“Did you take a picture? Was there anyone else around?”
“No- but, I-”
“So I'm just supposed to believe you,” he says flatly.
“What? Why would I make this up?”
“I know that, for some reason, you don’t like Hayoon.” Chan's usually friendly voice is cold and his face is stony. “I can live with that. I mean, of course it would be nice if you were at least civil to her. But at the end of the day, you don’t have to, she’s my girlfriend and not yours.”
“Okay,” you say slowly, “but how would lying about this benefit me at all?”
“She warned me about this, you know. She said you were jealous. Of her. Of us. That you would do something to try and break us up.” Chan laughs, but the sound is empty. “I always defended you, which she hated. I don't know how many times I told her that you weren't like that, that there was nothing going on between us.”
“Well I can assure you that I’m not jealous. That I’m not trying to break you two up.”
“I know that there’s… chemistry between us,” Chan acknowledges. “I don't have that many close female friends and I didn't before I started dating Hayoon either, but I know that I like your company and that you're easy to talk to. But that's all. It's fine if you're interested in me, you can’t help your feelings, but accusing my girlfriend of cheating? That’s sick, Y/n.”
“Are you kidding me? There is nothing going on between us.” you say incredulously. “Listen Chan, I’m saying this, I'm here as a friend. You think I'm lying? You think I want to hurt you?”
“I think that maybe Hayoon had a point when she said you wouldn't be satisfied with just being friends.”
“That's what you think of me?” you ask, feeling hurt. “Even if I was interested, I wouldn't do that. I respect you as a friend, I respect you as a person, and I respect your relationship whether I like your partner or not. But if that’s how you see me, I’m not sure that we were ever really friends. I would never try to sabotage you or anybody that's happily in a relationship.” Chan's face drops at your words.
“Y/n-” he starts to say, but you've had enough of this conversation.
“Look- I came here because I knew I would feel terrible and guilty if I didn't, but I can't convince you of something you don't want to believe.” You shake your head and walk towards the door.
Chan doesn't try to stop you as you leave.
 —
The next day you get to class 15 minutes before it’s supposed to start. You're exhausted, have your eyes swollen from crying when you got back home last night, and most of all, feel hurt. You had been a little worried about how Chan would react to what you had to tell him, but you never expected that he would dismiss you without a thought. It's hard to reconcile with the upbeat and kind seatmate that you're used to.
Instead of your usual seat near the middle of the classroom, you opt for one off to the side that’s often emptier, not wanting to have to talk to or even see Chan. You pull up an assignment that you’ve been procrastinating working on and manage to ignore the rest of your classmates as they filter into the lecture hall. It’s only when someone slides into the seat right next to you that you look up, surprised anybody would approach you when you’re clearly being unsociable and look awful.
“Hyunjin.” You’re too shocked to even say hello.
“That’s my name,” Hyunjin replies, looking unimpressed by your greeting as he pulls out his laptop. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Sorry, good morning. You don’t usually sit with me.” You can’t help but point out the obvious. 
In fact, Hyunjin usually doesn't sit with anyone. He's popular, it'd be hard not to be when you look as good as he does, but it's in a different way than Chan. While Chan seems to know practically everybody on campus, Hyunjin is almost untouchable.
While there are hoards of girls and guys that would love to have even a sliver of his attention, Hyunjin has a small circle of friends and is more interested in escaping the lecture hall to paint or dance than socialise. The only reason that you know him is because one of your closest childhood friends, Minho, is on the same dance crew as him and the three of you sometimes hang out. You wouldn't say that Hyunjin is more than an acquaintance though, he still intimidates you enough that you never would have tried to approach him first.
“And you don’t usually sit over here.” Hyunjin pretends to stretch and turns to look at your usual spot. “Avoiding someone?”
“Maybe.” You blush, embarrassed to be so easily seen through. “Is it that noticeable?”
“Nah, I just figured it was a matter of time before Hayoon got under your skin enough. I'm actually impressed you lasted this long, she really has it out for you.” While Hyunjin is surprisingly perceptive, you've also spent a fair bit of time ranting about Hayoon to Minho, and as a result, Hyunjin is kept up to speed on everything that Hayoon has done to antagonise you. You never realised that he actually paid enough attention to remember or that he agreed that Hayoon treated you like dirt.
“Actually, she’s not the one that I don’t want to talk to. Well, I never want to talk to her, but I’m not avoiding her.”
“No way,” Hyunjin crowds into your personal space, eyebrows raised dramatically. “Chan?”
You’ve had a pit in your stomach since last night’s argument and your mouth dries up at the thought of being so vulnerable, but something about the way that Hyunjin's eyes have widened to the size of dinner plates and his mouth has formed a little shocked ‘o’ is so disarming. 
“We had a disagreement last night,” you admit.
“Hayoon cheated?” he guesses.
Now it's your turn for your mouth to drop open in shock.
“Don't say it so loud,” you hiss. “How did you know?”
“Well, as much as I usually like to give people the benefit of the doubt, especially for something this serious…” Hyunjin grimaces slightly. “I’ve been kind of expecting it. Hasn't she done the same on her past three or four boyfriends?”
“Oof, that bad? I've heard some things, but never really knew for sure.”
“At least,” Hyunjin confirms. “Honestly, I'd be more shocked if she didn't cheat at this point. I'm guessing Chan didn't take it so well if you're upset with him.”
“He's loyal to a fault, literally!” you complain. “In his eyes, Hayoon can’t do anything wrong, he's able to explain away everything she does. He didn’t believe that it was her that I saw.”
“So what are you going to do?” Hyunjin asks curiously.
“Nothing,” you say sullenly. “As much as I'd like to shake some sense into him, he's an adult. He can make his own decisions and if he wants to live in denial, that's up to him.”
“You're a good friend.” Hyunjin reaches out tentatively and after an awkward second, pats your shoulder. “Not everyone would be brave enough to have that kind of difficult conversation. Chan may be stubborn right now, but he'll appreciate it later.”
“Well based on yesterday, I don't think I'm his friend at all,” you huff. “Anyway, if it's okay with you, I don't think that I will make it through the rest of the term if I have to sit over there.”
“Be my guest.” Hyunjin grins and the sight of it makes the lecture a bit easier to sit through.
You don’t talk to Chan for the rest of the term. While you stopped outright avoiding him, you’re pretty sure that he’s purposely steering clear of you. Instead, you continue to sit with Hyunjin and pretend that Chan doesn’t exist.
It feels silly that you miss him or that you can’t seem to get over how things ended between the two of you. You had only been friends for two months, you shouldn’t be so hurt every time he purposely turns away from you or when his eyes seem to slide over you like you’re not there.
Hyunjin basically becomes your part-time therapist. Most of the time, it’s enough that he keeps you distracted. He shares all the latest campus gossip with you, allows you to work while he paints, and invites you to hang out with Minho and the rest of their dance crew more than a few times. On the rare occasion when you’re feeling more fragile than usual, he would be willing to spend an evening at your place and listen to you wallow.
“It’s fair that you’re still upset,” he had comforted you once. You had run into Hayoon in the bathroom that afternoon and she had gloated about how nothing and nobody would be able to break her and Chan apart. It had made you feel sick to the stomach. “There was never any resolution. Chan didn’t believe you, doesn’t believe you, even though you went to him with good intentions and it’s reasonable that you would feel hurt or frustrated.”
“I feel so stupid,” you had sniffled. “It’s not even like it was a break up. We were just friends.”
“That doesn’t make it any easier, you’re still missing someone who used to be in your life. It’ll get easier next term when you don’t share a class, I promise.” Somehow, that actually had made you feel better.
“Thanks, Hyunjin,” you had said with a watery smile.
The two of you work out well together, not just because you enjoy each other’s presence, but also because there’s no expectations or pressure. Hyunjin has slowly started to share with you stories about his previous relationships, how he’s hesitant to start dating again after having his heart broken so many times. Even though there are rumours swirling about the two of you, you know that neither of you are ready for it yet and that’s partly why it's so easy to hang out with him.
Tonight, the two of you are just hanging out in his art studio. You're mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you’ve just finished the exam that you've been dreading the most and don't have the brain capacity to even think about school. You know that Hyunjin is doing the same, you can see it out of the corner of your eye, but he's trying to pretend that he's working since his painting is due the next day.
He drops all pretences when he gasps loudly at something that he sees on his phone.
“Y/n,” he says gravely.
“What?” you ask, only slightly curious. By now, you've gotten used to the fact that Hyunjin would react the same way to seeing a cute puppy video as he would finding out about some terrible news.
“A friend just texted me,” he says, still in shock.
“Okay? What did they say?”
Hyunjin looks up at you for a moment, down at his phone, then back up at you.
“ChanandHayoonbrokeup,” he says in a rush, before wincing, clearly afraid of what your reaction is going to be.
“What?” You can't believe your ears.
“Chan and Hayoon, apparently they broke up this afternoon. Someone heard them shouting at each other.”
You put down your pencil slowly, not sure what to think.
“Do you know why?”
“Someone said that they heard that yesterday, Heeyeon and Yikyung broke up because Yikyung cheated on her. I think it must be related,” Hyunjin says quietly.
“Oh.”
“I think there's pictures or a video out there, I haven't seen anything yet though,” Hyunjin continues on, starting to get excited while typing away on his phone. 
“Oh,” you say again, at a loss for actual words.
“Right before the holidays too, that's so-” Hyunjin cuts himself off when he looks up and sees you frozen in place. “Y/n, are you okay? Sorry, I'm sure it's a lot to process-”
“No, it's fine.” You force a smile. “I just- I think I have to go home now.”
“Y/n-”
“Really, it's okay. I just forgot that I have something to do. At home. Sorry.”
Hyunjin stares at you with eyes filled with something akin to pity, but doesn't say anything else. You try to ignore it as you hurriedly grab your things and leave.
A few days later you're packing up your bags in preparation to go home for the winter break when you hear a knock at your door. You weren't expecting anybody, but there's a few friends that you have that like to show up unannounced. 
You're not prepared to open the door and find Chan standing behind it.
He looks terrible. He's wearing a huge hoodie and his hair is tucked away behind a beanie, but nothing can hide the way that his eyes are swollen and his skin is lacking its usual colour. You can only guess that he hasn't been able to eat or sleep much judging from the gauntness of his face and dark circles.
“Chan,” you say carefully. “What are you doing here?”
“I'm sorry,” he says with a hoarse voice. “I was wrong.”
“Ah, Hayoon.”
“You heard?” he asks, face crumpling a little at the mention of his ex.
“It's-” You pause for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it delicately. "Someone mentioned it to me.”
“You must hate me.” Chan laughs humourlessly. “I know that I do. I was such a fool for not trusting you. I just didn't want to believe that she would do that to me. Stupid, I know. I'm really sorry that I said all those things to you, that I avoided you as if that would change the truth.”
For months, you've been waiting, hoping that Chan would come back to you and apologise. But actually hearing it isn't as satisfying as you thought. In fact, you don't really feel anything at all.
“I want to make it up to you,” Chan says earnestly. “Are you free? We can go for a meal and catch up. I missed you.”
“Uhm,” you say, not quite sure how to respond. You don't want to say yes, but you're scared to lose this opportunity.
“Actually, she's busy,” Hyunjin says. He steps out from behind Chan and wraps an arm around your waist possessively, nudging you behind him in the process. “I think it would be best if you leave.”
Normally you hate it when other people talk for you, but right now you're grateful that Hyunjin appeared. You're not even sure why he's here, although you mentioned that this was your last day on campus, the two of you didn't have plans to hang out.
“Oh.” Chan falters. “Are you two… together?”
“And if we are?” Hyunjin asks challengingly. You've never seen him this defensive before. “Frankly, it's none of your business. I'm tired of listening to your half-hearted apologies that are months too late and I'm pretty sure that Y/n isn't interested in them either.”
“Y/n?” Chan pleads.
“Hyunjin's right, I think that you should go,” you say from where you're still hidden behind Hyunjin. You're glad that you don't have to look him in the eyes. “I can't- I'm heading home today. I have to pack before my train leaves this afternoon.”
“Right,” Chan says thickly. “Sorry. I- I'm sorry, Y/n.”
You lean into Hyunjin's back for support, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear Chan's footsteps trail away. You don't open them for a long time, even when you feel Hyunjin turn around and wrap his arms around you. Instead, you just focus on the steady thump of Hyunjin's heartbeat and try to remember how to breathe.
read it on ao3 | masterlist
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hi love!!!! your work is so amazing i love how you write
i was wondering if you could do a corionlanus x fem reader where she’s his tribute and is about to be killed in the game but it’s kind of like that scene in you where she says “no don’t kill me im pregnant” and it’s his reaction and everyone watching trying to get them to end the games? i’d love to see what you could do w that feel free to change anything u want!
Songbird's Plan | Coriolanus Snow
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!tribute!reader
Summary: The presence of a song bird can change everything for one who appreciates them or "if it weren't for the baby" TBOSAS edition.
Warning/s: a bit of angst, Coriolanus Snow being in love, nickname (songbird), mentions of death, mentions of pregnancy, short fic, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: It's finally here. Hope you enjoy.
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The moment Coriolanus Snow met you he knew that he would do everything in his power to protect you from harm no matter what.
Of course he knew that that was going to be a difficult challenge because you were his tribute.
You were supposed to be in the games, you were supposed to literally fight for your life. There was always the chance that you would die, but Coriolanus didn't allow himself to think too long of this outcome. He knew that it would simply drive him to compete and utter madness.
So once the rebels bombed the arena, once he was out of the hospital and once he made sure that his tribute was okay, he sneaked into the arena the night before the games.
He spend more than half of the night searching for the places for his little songbird to hide. He did everything he could, he truly did, and he truly did though that he would be prepared for everything.
Yet as he found himself leaning towards the screen in front of him that displayed the scene of you being attacked by Coral he felt himself automatically freeze. He felt helpless.
He felt like he let you down and that ate him inside out.
Coriolanus felt like his heart was going to simply burst out of his chest as he watched, his throat tightening.
He watched Coral getting closer to you. He felt useless.
But there was something that both of you underestimated. There was a certain connection between you two. Both Coriolanus and you were smart, willing to do anything to survive.
Once Coriolanus remembered that, he forced himself to move. He could probably wipe out Coral with those badly made drones, but he needed some distraction because if Coral sees them, it's over. He could hit you.
"Please, don't!" Your voice broke out of the screen, Coriolanus felt himself flinch at the desperation behind it.
He watched your helpless form glazing away from Coral like you were on thin ice.
Coriolanus felt like he would scream put as Coral raised her weapon against you. But that's when you yelled out something that made his heart completely stop.
"No!" Your forceful voice shouted. "Don't kill me, I'm pregnant!"
Coral stopped for a moment. Coriolanus stopped for a moment. In fact, it seemed like the entire world stopped for a moment.
Coriolanus couldn't move, his mouth slightly agape as he watched you breathe heavily as you waited for Coral to move.
"Stop the games!" Tigris shouted in despair.
Coriolanus felt himself turn around quickly as he watched the mob of students standing up, waving his hands in air as they shouted to stop the games.
Coriolanus quickly turned to the screen and watched Coral still trying to gain her composure. He moved quickly, his body quicker than his mind.
If he doesn't do anything now, it would be over for you.
So as he send at least ten drones into the arena, successfully killing Coral, and as he watched your face twist in relief, and as he heard the cheers behind him he realized that maybe the hope wasn't lost after all.
His little songbird was truly a genius.
->
->
->
TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944
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thef1diary · 8 months
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Hii can you write an angsty fic with Daniel with these prompts: "Just play along, please!" & "I can't do this any longer, I just can't!"
Play Along | D. Ricciardo
Summary: You were in a fake relationship with Daniel, and inevitably, you started to fall for him. Unfortunately, those feelings weren't returned.
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Warnings: angst, Daniel is a sweetheart and an asshole at the same time, heartbreak.
pairing: daniel x fem!reader (established fake relationship)
wc: 2k
thef1diary 1k celebration
Daniel walked over to your side and opened the car door, then extended his hand for you to accept. Once he helped you out, he closed the door behind you but didn't move a step away.
His hand came up to your cheek, the roughness of his palm only making you blush. You were easily mesmerized by simple eye contact, especially whenever he looked at you like you were everything to him.
Then, he slowly closed the gap between you, placing a short but sweet lingering kiss on your lips before moving to your cheek. "Daniel," you muttered, completely confused by his actions that you almost forgot to kiss back.
Bringing his lips closer to your ear, he whispered, "cameras are watching, pretend like you're in love with me."
Of course. That's where the affection sprouted from. You managed to put a smile on your face but you couldn't pretend to love him. It wasn't an act on your side anymore, you had already fallen for him a few weeks ago but he had no idea.
Daniel moved away, but offered his arm for you to hold, an action that only made others think you two were truly together.
Your relationship, or rather the contract, started a year ago. It was pretty straightforward, Daniel needed someone to play the act of his girlfriend, and you needed money. You didn't think much of it when you signed, only focusing on the amount you earned monthly which was more than enough to live comfortably. It was a win-win situation.
Before signing, Daniel took you out for coffee casually as one of his requirements was to at least be with someone that he would get along with. Even though you quickly found out he was one of the kindest and friendliest person you met, you never thought that you'd be the one catching feelings.
It was one of the rules he was adamant on, among multiple others. "You won't fall in love with me right?" He asked making you almost choke on your coffee then burst out laughing.
However, he didn't laugh at all, which was very unlike him. "Oh you're serious?" You asked, composing yourself. He nodded, "we can be friends sure, but I can't give you anything more than that so don't expect it."
"I won't, this is just a contract, a business transaction even," you stated, not knowing how much you would regret those words.
His arm was placed on your lower back as you entered the banquet hall. Truthfully, you had no idea what the event was about, only knowing that Daniel was a respected guest. He had invited you as his plus-one, and frankly that's all he needed from you.
Daniel was introducing you—as his girlfriend—to some of the important people of the night. But all you could focus on was the way his palm rested on your back, the heat noticeable through your dress.
When he spoke your name, you finally focused on the conversation happening in front of you. "Sorry?"
He chuckled at your confusion, "do you want to tell them the story of how we met?"
You two had a good story memorized, exactly for a moment like this whenever someone would ask. But, you started thinking about how different your lives would be if it were true.
"We met at a café, I was just trying to enjoy my coffee but he tripped over his own feet right next to me," you spoke, making Daniel's eyes widen because that wasn't the exact version of the story you agreed upon.
He still laughed and played along, like he always does. "Some could say I tripped just to get your attention." You playfully slapped his chest, "and you say I fell first but you did, quite literally."
"You might've, but I fell harder, quite literally," he let out a boisterous laugh at his own joke and you couldn't help but join him.
For a short moment, you forgot that there were people around you. But then again, the only time Daniel was this flirty with you was around others.
"That's adorable," the person who you didn't remember the name of said. You tuned out of the conversation again as it didn't include you anymore.
Once again, Daniel nudged you but this time the other person walked away but you didn't exactly remember when. "Is everything okay?"
You nodded but he didn't believe it. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, Daniel, I think I just need a drink." He smiled, "it's an open bar, let's go get one." He didn't focus on the fact that you didn't use his nickname like you usually did.
After ordering the drinks, he stood facing you, a smile on his face but you knew him well enough to know it wasn't genuine. At least not in this fake situation.
A few other people came up to Daniel for short conversations, and as you watched him laugh, you thought of how your last year was spent with him.
Daniel followed through on his promise of becoming friends when he showed up at your apartment one day with takeout bags in his hands, because you mentioned that you were really stressed lately.
While you didn't end up getting any work done that night, Daniel kept you company and diverted your mind away from all the stress. You remember how your stomach hurt the next day with how much you laughed.
Other times, he would spoil you. Despite the fact that he paid you for the act, and that too was a lot of money, he still bought you anything you wanted.
It started with going shopping with him, and he would carefully keep an eye on your likes and dislikes. Once he was confident in his choices, he would send you gifts even if he wasn't with you.
On your birthday, you were surprised with a large bouquet of roses, with various pieces of expensive jewelry. A few weeks before your birthday, you and Daniel went shopping and while you loved each piece of jewelry, you didn't end up buying it.
Unbeknownst to you, Daniel went back a few hours later to buy every single bracelet, necklace, and anything else you showed any sort of interest in.
After all that, spending time with him, you started seeing him more as a lover than a friend. The day you acknowledged that thought, you knew it would hurt to leave.
It seemed like zoning out was a habit of yours tonight, because Daniel had to call your name twice before you heard him.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, showing a hint of worry in his tone. You looked around the ballroom, watching a few people dance while others were huddled together in small groups to converse.
You turned your gaze back towards him, "this is kind of boring, sorry, I'm just not interested anymore."
Instead of judging you, he nodded, "it is, do you want to leave?"
"What?" Your confusion made Daniel look at you with amusement present in his eyes. "We've been here long enough so we can leave. I'm craving fries and a burger anyways." He spoke casually.
Waiting for your response, Daniel brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his palm rest on your cheek for a few seconds too long.
"Daniel," your own hand rested on top of his, and when you made direct eye contact with him, that's when your restraint snapped.
"We can stop by that one fast food place you like," he added to convince you but he had no idea of the inner turmoil that you were burdened with, finally becoming too much to handle.
"No, I can't, I'm sorry," you spoke, confusing him but you didn't wait for his response. Moving his hand away, you swiftly walked towards the exit.
Daniel wasn't too far behind, calling your name but you couldn't listen to him anymore. His voice was too sweet, too full of confusion, and you really wanted to go back. But you knew if you continued the act, you wouldn't be able to stop.
As soon as you were outside, under the night sky, Daniel rushed towards you and grasped your hand to stop you. "What's going on?"
You ran your free hand through your hair, trying to figure out the right words to say. "I'm sorry, Daniel, I can't do this anymore," you started.
"Do what?"
"Act. I can't pretend to be your girlfriend anymore, I know we had an agreement but I'm backing out now," you stressed, and Daniel held your other hand or else you would’ve been pacing back and forth by now.
"You can't leave whenever you feel like it. Just play along, please!" He responded, trying to understand what the reasoning behind your decision could be.
You shook your head, "I can't do this any longer, I just can't."
"Why not?" He finally decided to ask. You hesitated because you knew it was time to tell him the truth. “Because I'm in love with you, Danny, and we need to stop pretending before I think it's real on your end too."
Daniel's mouth opened and then closed, as he didn't know how to respond, "but-" he tried but you were quick to cut him off. "Is it?"
"What?" He asked, making you sigh, "is it real for you too?" You forced the words out, but when he didn't have a response, your heart broke.
This time, it was all your own fault. You knew he didn't feel anything for you, not like you felt for him, and by asking if he did, you were only setting yourself up for heartbreak.
"Exactly," you stated once the silence hung in the air for a few seconds too long. It felt suffocating, but you had to continue, "you told me that I couldn't fall in love with you, but I did. That should be enough of a reason for you to let me go."
Daniel couldn't find the right words, and you assumed it was because he couldn't disagree with you. He couldn't tell you that he loved you, he didn't, so he didn't say anything at all.
"I'm sorry. You're a good guy, Daniel, a great guy in fact, and I'm sure that you'll find someone else who's willing to play along. Someone who won't fall for you."
The harsh wind blew your hair, and perhaps you could lie to yourself and claim that the wind was the reason your eyes teared up. But, you knew better.
You looked at him once more, and right before a tear finally slipped out of your eye, you turned away. You didn't want to cry in front of him, even if he was the cause of it.
He found his voice, and called out for you. "Can I at least drop you home? You're gonna fall sick."
You smiled, but he couldn’t see your face so he didn’t notice how it didn’t reach your eyes, "no, thank you,” you spoke loud enough to the empty space in front of you. Your decision was final.
Daniel didn't watch you walk away, he turned in the other direction once he realized you weren’t coming back. He walked towards his car, as there was no reason to stay at the event without you. There would be too many questions and he wasn't ready to deal with that.
Especially not when he just found out that you were in love with him. He didn't know what to think, so he decided not to think at all.
Turning up the music to an unbelievably loud volume that prevented him from listening to his own thoughts, he drove away. While he wasn’t constantly thinking of you, the thought of you remained in the back of his mind, knowing that it would come forth to haunt him in a few days.
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vivalas-vega · 4 days
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late / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader
hiii - feels like a long time since I've actually posted anything. this fic idea came to me kind of randomly - I've been seeing a lot of fics lately centered around making/having babies and I thought it'd be nice to write something angsty and fluffy catered to those of us who are childless and want to remain that way lol - as always, lmk what you think!
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late / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader
word count: 3.5k
I do not have a taglist - if you'd like to be notified of future works please follow @vegaslibrary and turn on post notifications
warnings: mentions of periods, hints at termination (not said explicitly but it's there), talk of kids/pregnancy, angst and fluff !!
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You shut the dishwasher before continuing to move about the kitchen as you cleaned up from dinner, one you would say was one of your best if you were going to toot your own horn, and your sights were set on the freezer for a little ice cream to go along with your movie before bed. You thought you should hold out, you’d left an invite open to your boyfriend to come here after his plans, but you decided against it. Ben and Jerry’s waits for no one.
You set it out to soften for a minute, pulling your planner from your bag to skim through your plans for the next day to make sure all your ducks were in a row and you were about to close it when you fixated on the date. “There’s no way,” you muttered to yourself, genuinely baffled by how far into the month you were. Your brow furrowed as you tried to comb through your memory but things had been so busy lately you were falling short so you switched to your phone and tapped on the pink app icon, eyes widening as you realized your first thought was true.
“No, no, no,” you sighed, walking to the bathroom with a quicker pace than normal and dropping down to look beneath your sink. “Don’t be expired,” you pleaded. To whom you were pleading you had no idea, but you breathed out a sigh of relief when the tiny text on the box confirmed you still had a while to use them. 
You checked the app again, scrolling back through the month and confirming what you’d hoped you’d misinterpreted the first time… but you hadn’t, you were in fact late. Ten days late. You had always considered yourself quite lucky, your period ran like a well oiled machine and your cycle was always twenty-nine days on the dot. Every so often you’d fluctuate, but only by a day, and for that you were grateful. You were always prepared, and you always knew if you ever fluctuated by more than a day it was cause for concern…
Ten days was more than cause for concern in your book, frankly as you stared at the test you thought you didn’t even really need to take it. You only kept them on hand because you were known for missing a pill here and there and you’d rather have to run to your bathroom in a panic than to your closest mini-mart, but you’d never truly had a scare before. You always assumed they’d expire before you got to use them. Oh, how wrong you were. 
Pregnancy was never on the docket for you. You knew from a young age you had no interest and frankly it scared you more than anything. You knew it was reckless not to switch to a more effective birth control, one that was foolproof and long-lasting but the pill you’d been on since high school hadn’t failed you yet so you’d put it off despite the fact that it had been on your to-do list. Right about now you were wishing you’d just booked the appointment and gotten it over with. 
You did the only thing you really knew to do at this moment and fired off a text to Natasha, your best friend for almost two decades. All it read was three simple numbers: 911. 
You heaved a sigh as you ran your fingers through your hair and chastised yourself for being so flippant. You knew you didn’t want this, and you knew the pill wasn’t perfect, especially not when you missed at least one per pack. Really, you’d just gotten lucky your whole adult life, and the fact that this hadn’t happened sooner was beginning to feel like a miracle as you really let the situation wash over you. You were broken from your thoughts by the sound of your phone vibrating harshly against the tile and you answered it before it even got through its first ring.
“What’s going on?” Natasha asked in lieu of a hello. This was one of the many reasons you loved her and why she was still your best friend after all this time. Unless she was in the air or on the other side of the world, a 911 text was responded to in the form of a call in five minutes or less. You also decided to forgo a greeting and simply held up the box and her eyes widened, “no, are you serious?” 
“Unfortunately,” you sighed and she considered her next question carefully.
“Have you taken one yet?” You shook your head. “Okay, so it’s just a suspicion, maybe there’s not even anything to worry about.” 
“Ten days, Nat,” you replied.
“Oh shit,” was all she said for a moment. “Hey, you’ve been eerily regular your entire life, maybe your uterus taking a hard earned break,” she tried and you chuckled at the attempt to lighten the situation with humor. 
“Or maybe it’s growing a person,” you said and she rolled her eyes.
“You haven’t even taken it, you can’t get all doom and gloom yet. Have you talked to Jake?” 
“Should I?” you shot back and she just gave you a deadpan look through the screen.
“Should you talk to your boyfriend, the one who may or may not have impregnated you, about the fact that he may or may not have impregnated you?” she asked rhetorically. 
“I just… it’s not like it’s going to go anywhere if it’s positive,” you sighed. “We haven’t talked about it, Nat. He doesn’t know how I feel and I have a feeling it’s going to ruin everything.” 
“How could you know that if you haven’t talked about it?” she replied with that face that told you she knew she was right, because she always was, not that you’d tell her that. “If this was some random hookup I’d say absolutely don’t talk to them about it, but this is Jake… you guys are getting serious and I think you’ll feel better if you do.” 
“That’s the thing, we’re getting serious. This is still so new, what if I lose him as soon as I tell him ‘yeah if you stay with me you’ll never have a family’?” 
“First of all, I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this but definitely don’t say it like that. Second of all, if you lose him because your goals for the future don’t align then he was never really yours to begin with. It just means your person is still out there and so is his.” 
“I know that was meant to be comforting but the thought of him having a person out there that isn’t me is making me nauseous.” 
“Sure it’s not morning sickness?” she teased and you scowled at your phone screen. 
“I’m serious, Nat… I know it’s early and we’re just starting to settle into a groove but I feel like he’s it, you know?”
“No, I really don’t know how my beautiful and smart best friend winds up being it for Hangman, but you know I love and support you and all your choices… including whatever you decide to do if the test is positive. At the end of the day the final say is yours, but I think you should at least include him in the conversation.” 
“I know, I just… shit,” you were cut off by the sound of your front door and Jake’s voice letting you know it was him. “I completely forgot he was coming over.”
“Talk to him, even if it doesn’t go well it’s better to know now, it’ll only hurt worse later… and for what it’s worth, I don’t think it’ll be whatever worst case scenario you’ve concocted,” she said before you hung up and Jake was just walking into to bedroom as you exited the bathroom.
“Hey, there you are sweetheart,” he said with that famous smirk of his that was now only reserved for you. He leaned in to press a kiss to your lips that you easily reciprocated, “you on the phone?” 
“I was, with Nat,” you answered and he chuckled.
“Swear you two can’t go four hours without checking in. I have no idea how you make it through deployments.” He’d tease but he loved how close you were, if you weren’t he’d never have met you. You would have never been dragged into the Hard Deck and he’d never have the opportunity to spend two long months trying to win you over. She’d swear until her dying breath it had been the opposite of her intentions, but Jake would always consider himself indebted to Natasha for bringing you into his life.
“Yeah well, she had to tell me all about your epic failure at the pool table,” you said and he laughed. It absolutely had not been the topic of your call, but you were glad she had been texting you about your boyfriend’s terrible game against Bradley as it was happening so you had something to say while you worked up the nerve to tell him what you were really talking about. 
“Okay, it was not an epic failure,” he said as he pulled his spare clothes from your dresser and began working on the buttons of his khakis, “but if it was, it was only because I didn’t have my good luck charm.” 
“She said you’d use some cop out like that,” you replied and he playfully rolled his eyes. He quickly pulled on his sweats and became acutely aware of how you hadn’t moved an inch since he arrived, and the way you were picking at a hangnail on your thumb. Normally, you’d have already jumped into bed and launched into a rundown of everything that happened during the day but you were silent, unmoving, and about to hit bone on your thumb. 
“Everything okay?” he asked as he shrugged his shirt on and you nodded, suddenly realizing how off you were being as well. 
“Just a long day at work,” you answered, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and you should have known he’d see right through you. He always did, even before you were officially together. Jake had learned you and all your cues in record time and nothing got under his skin more than when you tried to pretend he hadn’t… like you were right now. 
“Wanna try that again?” He sat beside you and put a reassuring hand on your thigh, and the simple action had you letting out a sigh. 
“I’m late,” you said and Jake just nodded. Most men would have asked late for what? but as you’d learned over the past several months, Jake wasn’t most men and he didn’t need to prod to realize what you meant, especially when you were this visibly anxious.
“Okay, have you taken a test yet? Do we need to go get one?” He kept his tone even and measured, not wanting to add any more stress onto your plate.
You shook your head, “there’s one in the bathroom,” you answered. He hated the way you were avoiding his eyes and the way you hadn’t stopped picking at your hands.
“Let’s take the test so we know exactly what we’re dealing with, and then regardless of the result we’ll sit right here and talk it all out… how does that sound?” he asked and you smiled softly but it didn’t reach your eyes. He was always proactive, any time something came up he immediately sought out a solution and you weren’t at all surprised this was his response.
“I think that sounds good,” you said as you stood, “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be right here,” he replied and you knew from the look in his eyes he meant that in more ways than one. Seeing you stressed or overwhelmed wasn’t new for him, but this was something else entirely… normally you’d be frazzled over something work related and you’d vent to him and snap back to normal but you were completely withdrawn. He knew you were scared, frankly he was a little scared too, but he was suddenly worried he hadn’t made his feelings clear enough. There really wasn’t anything you could do at this point to send him running, and especially not this; he desperately wanted to know what was nagging at you so he could reassure it away.
You returned from the bathroom and took up your previous spot beside him, stick in hand, “two minutes.” you said softly and he leaned over to press a kiss to your temple.
“Hey, whatever it is we’ll figure it out. Everything will be okay,” he said and you nodded but he could tell his words just rolled right off you, not sticking in the slightest. He thought it’d be best to stay silent while you waited, he’d be able to get to the root of it once you both knew exactly what was going on.
The timer on your phone startled you and you silenced it as you took a deep breath. Jake slid his hand through your free one and intertwined your fingers, squeezing reassuringly as you flipped the test over. Negative. You exhaled in relief and dropped your head against his shoulder and he quickly lifted his arm to pull you into his chest. Emotion tugged at you despite how you tried to keep it at arm's length, and eventually you succumbed to the tears trying to break free.
“It’s okay, everything’s okay,” Jake whispered, kissing the top of your head and drawing soothing patterns along your back. He continued to talk, low reassurances that weren’t quite registering but the tenor of his voice eventually calmed you down and when the emotions finally ran their course he hooked a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. “Talk to me, what had you so worried?” he asked gently, wiping away the tears on your cheeks.
You considered your options: you could say you were just terrified by an unplanned pregnancy and push past it, or you could do what you knew you needed to and be honest despite the fact you were somehow convinced it’d bring the end of your relationship. “I don’t want kids,” you blurted out and he was nearly as surprised by the sudden confession as you were.
“I- I never have, I… never envisioned that life for myself and I’ve never felt that thing people feel that makes them want kids. I know I’m like… broken or something, I know it literally goes against my biological nature to not want kids, I just don’t and I know that can be a deal breaker so I understand if you don’t want to stay-"
“I’m gonna stop you right there,” he interrupted, his tone still gentle but not as soft as it had been earlier. “You are not broken. It’s perfectly normal to not want kids and you don’t need to justify that, to me or anyone else. This isn’t a deal breaker, sweetheart, I’m pretty convinced nothing is at this point,” he said and this reassured you slightly, loosened the knot in your stomach slightly.
“You don’t want kids?” you asked, your voice still timid and small. You didn’t want to ask but you needed to know, this was your one shot to get everything out in the open and make sure you were on the same page.
He thought carefully for a moment before answering. “I honestly haven’t given it a lot of thought. My life is so up in the air, literally and figuratively, I don’t think I’ve ever been able to picture slowing down enough to factor kids in. That’s not to say I’ve never wanted them, but I’ve never been attached to the idea.”
“Is it disappointing to know that if you stay with me you’ll never have that option? I don’t want you to have regrets or end up resenting me because I never gave you a family.” Jake’s heart cracked at the look on your face and the emotion thinly veiled in your eyes. In the back of his mind he knew this was coming from somewhere specific… At some point someone had made you feel like you were broken, had either said or made you feel like a life with you wouldn’t be enough without kids and he hated that. He hated that right now it seemed like you were just waiting for him to echo the sentiment and leave you stranded. 
“Sweetheart, if that test had been positive and you wanted to keep it I’d be thrilled to start a family with you, just as thrilled as I am to build a life just the two of us. I don’t love you because of your ability to provide me with a hypothetical family… I love you because you’re you, that’s always going to be enough for me.” Your breathing hitched as you processed his words, you literally felt the weight lift off your chest at the reassurance he really wasn’t going anywhere and it gave your heart the room to thud wildly against your rib cage.
“You love me?” you asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips and his eyes widened. In the heat of the moment he hadn’t realized what he’d confessed and he felt himself flush.
“Yeah, I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it just now, or so soon- I do love you but this night has been emotionally overwhelming enough, please don’t feel like you have-“ he was rambling, and you were having a hard time keeping your enjoyment in check. 
Jake was a confident and assured man, it’s part of what drew you to him at first, but now he was a stumbling mess with crimson cheeks because he’d just confessed he loved you and you were sure he’d never been more attractive to you. Not when he sidled up beside you and bought every drink you ordered every time you were in the Hard Deck with that cocky smirk and those sparkling eyes, not when he boldly flirted with you every time he saw you despite Natasha threatening to have him shot out of the sky, and not when he threw an arm around your shoulder and called you his girlfriend with no real confirmation, he just knew you were his and he was yours. None of those moments of the smooth and charismatic Jake you knew compared to this sweet and bashful one in front of you.
You cut him off by pressing your lips to his in a searing kiss, knowing he wouldn’t stop unless you did it for him. He responded instantly and you couldn’t help but giggle as you pulled back. “I love you, too.” you said and in the blink of an eye he regained his confidence, pulling you back into him and kissing you like a man starved. 
“You just made me the happiest man on earth, darlin’,” he said, pecking your lips once more. “A life with you is everything I ever dreamed of. We don’t have to talk about this ever again unless you want to… I just need you to know that I’ll remain the happiest man on earth so long as I’ve got you, no hypothetical children could ever make me regret or resent you.” 
You felt the need to be closer to him and crawled into his lap to wrap around him like a koala, squeezing so tight he let out a strained laugh. “I love you,” you said again as he held you close.
“I love you too, sweetheart… Now what do you say we get some snacks and ice cream and decompress with a movie night?” he asked and your eyes widened as you pulled back, suddenly remembering what you’d left on the counter. 
“My ice cream!” you yelled, disentangling yourself from him and sprinting down the hallway to assess the damage and he trailed behind you chuckling the whole way… he watched you frown as you looked at what had turned into soup and you pulled out your phone, mumbling something about getting it delivered because there was no way you’d go without a sweet treat tonight. He was paying attention, because of course he was, but as he stood leaning against the doorframe looking at you with a lovesick expression on his face he was thinking about the future. 
He saw nights at the bar, you heckling his friends better than he ever could and getting away with it in a way he never did. He saw travel at every opportunity and nights-in just like you were about to have. He saw romantic dinners and fights and nights of endless passion — and maybe he saw a dog down the line. He saw himself putting a big rock on your finger and buying you a house with a porch swing out back because he knew that’s all you really wanted, and it’s there on that swing you’d watch the sun rise and set over the ocean and truly start to grow old together. He saw it all, the good and the bad, in a split second while watching you lean over the kitchen counter, eyes glued to your phone as you scrolled through your options, and he couldn’t help but beam. ‘As if I could ever regret a life with you,’ he thought.
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psylocke142 · 1 month
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Nightmares
Sana x fem!reader
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synopsis: Sana keeps having nightmares, recurring and always the same. Sana can’t help but think that it’s something important. There’s a message she’s missing. Something feels familiar about her dream.
w/c: 4.3k
warnings: death; accident; angst(?); trauma
a/n: i wrote this as a sana x fem!reader fic but it’s more of a sana centric fic. some roommate misana. this was a draft of a “book” i wanted to write in high school. i was proud of the concept of this fic back then. still am. not too sure how i feel about the final product…but it’ll do.
----------------------------------------------------
It’s a brisky night as Sana is walking down the street. A cold gust of wind blows in Sana’s direction, making her hands seek refuge in the pockets of her jacket. She looks up into the sky as she languidly treads to cross the street. No specific destination in mind yet. She begins to get lost in the starless sky, wishing she could live in some place where the stars are more visible.
Sana lives in Seoul, a big city with towering buildings and a vibrant nightlife. It’s a charming city filled with much to give. To Sana’s disappointment, the light pollution from all the buildings just so happens to block the starlight away.
A heavy sigh is released from her chest as she continues her stroll. Her body is starting to feel heavy and in need of some rest. Something Sana knows she needs but never looks forward to.
She had gone out for a night walk downtown, which was a short distance walk away from her apartment. The honey-haired girl had dreaded going home after work, so she headed to the heart of the city to walk around and waste time. Prolonging the needed rest and increasing her exhaustion.
There was nothing for her to do at home either. Sana had a small cafe she built from the ground up, making enough to pay her half of the rent. Her family is in Japan and her friends seem to be strangers. Being drifted away by busy work schedules and other circumstances. Sana didn’t care much, at least she pretended not to. Her duties at the cafe gave her enough work hours to not think too deeply about it. She has Mina. The younger girl is Sana’s roommate, who currently seemed to be the only person in her life. Maybe, that was all she needed.
Mina is the quiet type. They had met after high school, looking for someone to lessen the load of responsibilities in apartment rent and college tuition. They’ve been inseparable ever since. Mina has always been respectful and would never poke her nose in places it didn’t belong. She still cared about Sana though. Which is why Sana’s phone vibrated from the pocket of her worn-out denim jeans.
Mina: are you almost home?
Sana: went for a quick walk, be there soon.
Mina: ok. be safe.
Sana: will do.
Sana pocketed her phone and began to head to her apartment, obeying Mina’s unspoken order to come home. She always did. On occasion Sana would lose track of time during her night walks and receive a similar text from Mina telling her it’s getting late. Sana always replied and would head home, she had no reason to ignore Mina’s request.
The two women aren’t very communicative with each other. However, they had grown to care for one another throughout the years of living together. Text messages being one of the ways they showed their fondness for each other. Sana would often bring leftover goods from the cafe, sharing them with Mina. In turn Mina would look out for Sana, more so recently, by making sure she never came home too late and stayed safe.
The streets became more familiar the closer she got home. Sana passes by the convenience store that’s next to the park. Said park being across her apartment complex. Originally, she had planned to occupy an empty bench to sit. There is no one there since it is already dark outside. The basketball court always filled throughout the day with old men chasing after a ball. Couples spread across blankets. Mid-age women jogging in groups as they gossiped about the neighborhood drama. Children running, their sneakers scuffing the gravel of the playground. Laughter and screams echoing in the air. A complete contrast to the park’s atmosphere once the sun subsides.
Her plans would have to wait for another night.
Sana reaches the end of the park and finds her apartment complex in view from across the street. As she is crossing, she begins to drift off in her head. Wondering whether Mina will be waiting for her, maybe reading in the living room. Her mind brings up old memories. She thinks of her future. Her failures. She ends up wandering to a beautiful silhouette in her head. One she can’t put a name or face to.
Strayed in a haze of thoughts Sana crosses the street to her apartment. As Sana steps onto the curb of the other side, she hears the loud screeching of tires and a piercing honk. Sana turns rapidly, the sight before her paralyzing, blood in her body running cold in an instant. The fight or flight response muffles her senses, deafening her momentarily. She squints to the pickup truck with beaming headlights. Then to the person laying prone on the floor. Sana is frozen in place, stunned by the truck’s collision. Before she can gather her bearings, the vehicle reverses and flashes away from the scene in front.
Sana runs to the person, finally coming out of her paralytic state, with each step her heartrate begins to double. Worry and fear going up by the millisecond. Approaching the unknown person, Sana crouches to their level with arms reaching out. Flipping the person into her arms, her eyes widen and her heart stops. Feeling all the oxygen escape her lungs in shock. Sana wanted to back away instantly but was once again paralyzed.
The person she had placed into her arms was — herself.
This mortified Sana and she couldn’t tear her gaze from what seemed to be impossible. She remained there watching the life fade from her eyes.
Sana shoots up from her bed, panic ridden in her eyes while she lets out uneven breaths. She observes her surroundings in order to ground herself to reality. A thin coat of sweat layers her body. She’s in her bedroom. Her duvet covers the lower portion of her body, lightly sticking to her legs. The blinds of her window allow small rays of the moonlight to filter into the room. She eyes the soft patterns of light and shadows cast onto her walls. Finally, she glances over at the digital clock on her nightstand.
3:14AM, it read. She lets out a heavy sigh.
Ten minutes had passed, and Sana managed to calm down, but the image from her nightmare was still fresh in her mind. She swiftly gets out of bed and heads to her desk. Fishing for her headphones in one of the drawers. As she plugs them into her phone and hits shuffle on her playlist she reflects, “That’s three times this week.”
Sana has been having the same nightmare for a while now, and although she doesn’t get it every night it torments her daily. The look of her lifeless eyes etched into her brain.
An alarm blares on Sana’s nightstand, jolting her awake from her short slumber. Headphones landing on the floor. She gets up groggily wiping the drowsiness from her eyes, reaching over to silence the persistent noise. 6:00AM her phone highlighted as she discarded the alarm. Focusing on the still dark view of her window, sun unrisen, she stretches her limbs. Trying to shake off the exhaustion deep in her bones. Sana makes her way to the bathroom to freshen up. Another day of work ahead of her.
As Sana makes her way to the kitchen, she catches sight of Mina pouring herself a cup of coffee. Sana reaches into one of the cupboards for her mug and takes a seat on a stool in front of the kitchen island. Mina nears her offering some of the warm, bitter beverage.
“How’d you sleep?” the younger of the two questions.
Sana aimlessly stares at her now filled mug. No real interest in the cup of coffee, “mmm…the same as always” she mumbles.
Mina studies her roommate, aware of the night terrors that haunted her. Observing the dark circles and paling complexion that appear to be worsening as the weeks pass. Her eyebrows furrow in concern but she maintains her tone steady, “I see.”
As much as Mina wanted to pry and ask about the subject of her nightmares, she didn’t want to push Sana to share. She’d wait until Sana was ready to talk about it. So, she retreats from her spot in the kitchen and gathers her things to head out.
“Take it easy at work Sana,” is all the raven-haired girl can manage to express her concerns. Not waiting for the eldest’s response before heading out the door.
Sana brings her mug to the sink. Emptying the remains of her coffee. She stands there, arms leaning against the sink mentally preparing herself for the day. Willing the thousands of thoughts and images away to the back of her mind for now.
It’s a slow day. Her least favorite type of day, regular customers entering the well-known shop for their usual orders. She had no helper today to make matters worse. She had let her part-timer, Dahyun, take the day off. Aside from the regulars not many patrons enter. Leaving Sana vulnerable to the silence of the small, dim-lit cafe. Alone with her thoughts.
Sana busied herself throughout the day; cleaning every single crevice of the cafe, organizing the storage room, restocking the coffee, and serving whoever came through. To say she was tired would be an understatement. However, it did the job. It was now time to close the shop. After shutting off the lights and making sure everything was locked up, Sana headed out. Too worn out to go for a walk, the honey-haired girl apprehensively decided to go home right away.
As the weeks continue on, so do Sana’s nightmares. However, with the progressing weeks her dream is minutely changing. In her dream everything always plays out the same from the beginning. When she runs towards the body in the middle of the street, Sana is still petrified by the sight of her own image reflecting on the ground. What has changed is that her duplicate has become distorted. Her features almost appear to be clouded by an unseen force or shadow. Her eyes were the only part visible. Nonetheless, Sana jerks awake in fear.
There is familiarity in the shadows that now distort her nightmares. It reminds her of the silhouette that has crossed her mind. Sana realizes that what used to be her duplicate is now morphed into the clouded silhouette that resides in the back of her thoughts. What racked Sana’s mind was who this shadow person was and why they were appearing.
While the image of watching life vanish from her own eyes haunts her, the image of the shadow lingers. The once-clear reflection of herself has transformed into an indistinct figure. The only thing Sana can make out of this new shift is it’s a female. Her eyes, though barely visible, leave Sana feeling a paradox of emotions. Unsettled but comforted holding her in her arms. Familiar but unrecognizable as she stares into their eyes.
After mulling over her thoughts, the honey-haired girl can’t help but wonder if there’s a deeper meaning to her nightmares. Every night Sana wakes up, drenched in a layer of sweat and gasping for breath, the shadowed female lingers in her mind. She felt the figure was someone important. Almost as if the shadow holds a piece of her. Maybe her past. Sana wonders if there’s a message she needed to decipher from this. There was something crucial that she’s forgetting. Lately, the questions gnaw at her mind, affecting her day by day.
Mina observes her roommate. The aforementioned girl sat in the dining room, a now soggy bowl of cereal in front being left untouched for too long. Sana is constantly lost in her head whenever she’s at home, paying Mina no thought. This raises concern in Mina. So, she begins to keep a close eye on Sana. The raven head becomes anxious, thinking Sana is finally putting the pieces together. Closer to figuring out what she doesn’t remember. Mina needs to prepare for the day it hits Sana.
It would be easy for Mina to lay it out for her friend and tell her, but Mina wants Sana to solve it out on her own. Her own memory will decide when she’s ready.
One night while Sana heads home, a strange feeling courses through her. It’s an inkling feeling that begins as she crosses the street from the park to her apartment complex. Something was itching her brain to remember. Sana didn’t realize she had stopped walking to focus on what she was feeling. Stagnant in the middle of the street. Seemingly from nowhere, she heard loud honking and tires skidding in an attempt to halt. The beaming headlights along with the rush of nerves putting her body on alert gave Sana a sense of Deja vu. She barely manages to move to the side as the car swerves around her.
Sana is able to guide herself home afterwards. She shuffles inside and exhales to release the tension from the previous incident. Quiet footsteps approach her. “You’re home — already,” it was her roommate.
Mina stands by their apartment entrance, eyeing Sana who was slipping off her shoes. Her hair was covering her face as she was slightly bent downwards. When the honey-haired girl looked up, Mina could see the sullen look on her face. Sorrow filled her sunken eyes. The younger girl couldn’t handle seeing her roommate like this anymore.
“Sana, is everything ok?”
This was all it took for the dam to break. Too overwhelmed by her troubles, Sana couldn’t help the tears welling at the corner of her eyes. Mina led her to their couch.
Finally voicing out her dream and the torment it’s brought her, with her head in her hands, Sana expresses her concerns and want to get to the bottom of things. Burdened by the unresolved.
She has a lengthy conversation with Mina, taking most of the night. Her roommate listens attentively, confirming her worries. However, she puts them to the side. Focusing on the words being hushed out from the older girl. Sana goes deep into detail about how she feels an inexplicable connection to the figure of her dreams.
That with each passing night, the feminine silhouette became more defined. The presence of this person feels like a key to unlocking a part of herself that was buried. “This can’t just be something from my imagination, Mina…” Sana huff out and pauses. “It can’t be. It feels too real.”
Sana looks at her friend, tired. Eyes desperate and in search of answers. For the last missing piece. Continuing to vent out, Sana can no longer hold back all her thoughts or feelings. She knew that she would have to confront this. To find what she is looking for, she would have to delve into the depths of her mind where she will uncover the truth. Something Mina is aware of. She knows what the missing piece in Sana’s nightmare is. Mina bites her tongue; she holds the last piece to Sana’s puzzle.
It wasn’t going to be easy for Sana. The raven head finds a glint of determination in Sana’s eyes. She just hoped it would be enough to get her through whatever lies ahead. Through the unraveling of the darkest corners of her psyche.
After a couple of days passed, Sana is at work again, eyeing the calendar at the cafe with the intention of looking at next week’s schedule. She finds a certain date calling to her. Sana fidgets with the hem of her rough leathered work apron. Gaze set on the calendar but was miles away in her mind.
“Hey boss,” a small pale girl appears next to her “have something coming up?”
Sana pondered, did she? The date was calling out to her, similar to the other night’s incident, a call to remember. She abruptly decided, “would you mind handling the shop on your own?” as she pointed to the date. The smaller women glanced at the calendar, mentally confirming if her schedule aligned. “Sure, no problem,” she gleams.
Sana remained silent, not that she didn’t trust Dahyun, but she rarely took days off.
It seemed as if her employee had read Sana’s mind.
“You know — we’re all entitled a day off once in a while.”
“Having a break won’t hurt,” and Sana couldn’t agree more but for different reasons. She wished she could get a breather from the nightmares and the baggage of turmoil it entailed. Weighing heavily on her shoulders. She wanted a break from all her unresolved questions and emotions. Sana wanted a moment of clarity, a small respite from the chaos in her mind.
Ever since their late-night talk, Mina and Sana have become closer. Their conversation became a turning point in their relationship. That night Sana came home and poured her heart out, Mina listened and supported her unwaveringly. This created a deeper bond between the two. One more open. It was as if the restrictions to showing their care were lifted. Mina wouldn’t withhold herself anymore and checked on Sana more often. She ensured that Sana was coping — as best as she could — with her nightmares. Sana found herself content with this new development.
Later that same day Mina visited the cafe. This was part of the new development in their friendship. On days that Mina finished her work early, she would stop by the cafe to indulge in savory sweets and rich flavored coffee to balance it out. She would occasionally stay until Sana closed. Walking home together to make sure she didn’t stay out too long and have a repeat of the other night.
As Mina was taking a bite of the sweets she had ordered, her ears perked at the conversation a couple of feet away. Dahyun was conversing with Sana. From what Mina was able to hear, she found that Dahyun would be taking care of the small shop by herself. This piqued her interest. If Dahyun is going to be by herself at the cafe, that means Sana would be taking a day off. Aware of the upcoming date Mina stood up with her empty plate and mug. She headed to the register, where the cafe workers stood. Dahyun greeted her with a smile, “Thanks Mina, I would’ve collected them you didn’t have to bring them yourself.” “It was no trouble,” Mina countered as she offered a small smile. She quickly glanced at the calendar behind the two girls.
There it was. It was marked on the cafe’s schedule in bright red: Sana’s day off. Sana was indeed getting closer to figuring things out. Mina thought to herself for a moment. She needed to take action. She said her goodbyes to Dahyun and looked at Sana, checking for any unusual signs. She told Sana she would see her later and excused herself to run some “errands.”
Mina arrived to the apartment she shared with Sana, swiftly parking into the underground garage. Jogging up the stairwell she held her phone against her ear. Listening to the ringing as she waited for the call to connect. The younger girl was calling her boss. After her discovery at the cafe, she felt that she had to take a day off. The same day as Sana.
After settling things at work the younger girl began to rummage through her closet. With little to no struggle Mina found what she was looking for, there in the back corner of her closet was a dusty and messily taped up box. This is Sana’s box that was given to Mina years ago. However, Mina is sure that Sana has no recollection of doing this. Mina swipes at the dusty box with an old rag. Uncovering a name that had not been spoken or crossed in the mind of her roommate. A name that would certainly bring back a flood of memories and emotions that Sana had tried to bury deep within her consciousness. She had entailed this to Mina long ago and despite her best efforts to confine the box, the answers to her questions had been a room away — in Mina’s closet.
Mina stared at the name on the old box. She asked herself whether Sana would be ready for this. Placing the answers to Sana’s nightmare in the back of her trunk, she concluded that it was time. Her friend deserved clarity.
The following days passed by in a blur for the two roommates. Both filled with nerves for their day off, one in fear and one in uncertainty. That morning Sana woke up in her patterned panic, result of her nightmare. With no work scheduled, Sana had wanted to sleep in. Her own personal but cruel alarm couldn’t let that slide.
Sana dragged her feet into the kitchen until she stopped at the view of her roommate. The same roommate who should be at work by now. Mina meets Sana’s eyes and simply states, “I have the day free.” Giving it no other thought, Sana continues through her morning.
“Hey, I have a small errand I have to run. Do you mind joining me?”
Sana looks towards her friend from her spot on the couch. Eyebrows raised in confusion.
“I don’t feel like going alone. Some company would be nice…” the raven head explains. Hoping this will be enough to convince her. Luckily, Sana stood up a few seconds after and agreed.
Throughout the car drive, Mina holds onto the steering wheel with a death grip so tight. Her anxiety locking her fingers in place. This didn’t go unnoticed by Sana. She chose to ignore it for the time being; her eyes focused on the road for any clues to their destination.
A short drive later, they have finally arrived. Sana glances out the window and a cemetery comes into view. Mina was quick to observe Sana’s reactions, but only found confusion take over her features. Putting the car in park, Mina exits the car. The older girl watches, confusion deepening the furrowing of her eyebrows, as her roommate gathers a bouquet of flowers she hadn’t noticed.
“Why are we here?” Sana asks, her voice tinged with uneasiness. Her gut sending her a feeling of foreboding and apprehension.
Mina didn’t utter a single word in response. She secures a small bag on her shoulder and motions for Sana to follow. After a moment’s hesitation Sana steps out, taking in her surroundings as her feet hit the gravel concrete. There were rows of graves, and the air was filled with a thick scent of earth and floral tones. The atmosphere of the cemetery quiet and somber, quite what one would expect. To Sana however, it brought a chill to her bones. Walking in silence, the gravel crunches under the weight of their steps. Sana’s mind is racing in an attempt to piece together why Mina has brought her here.
Suddenly Mina stops and begins to kneel down. Setting aside the bouquet and placing the small bag alongside. It wasn’t a lie when Mina said she had an errand to run. Mina knelt down in front of a single, well-tended grave. Her roommate begins to clean around the area with practiced ease and precision. Her movements are deliberate and respectful. Unknown to Sana, the raven head would frequent the grave in front of them. Maintaining the site before them, a gesture Sana would later appreciate.
Finally taking a glance at the name engraved on the headstone, Sana’s knees buckled. It was a name Sana hadn’t thought of in years. Succumbing to the flood of memories and emotions she fell to her knees, unable to hold back her sobs as tears began to stream along her face.
The memories hit Sana like turbulent waves. Each memory crashed into her; a feeling that made Sana feel like she was drowning. Each one is more painful than the last. It was Deja vu all over again. Except now it dawned on Sana that her nightmares were a mirroring image of your accident. It became too much for her. She felt her heart clench tightly in her chest and erupting into pieces. The all too familiar feeling of her body paralyzing in shock hit her once again. She had lost you.
Realization dawned on Sana. It all made sense now; the nightmare, the shadowy figure, the sense of Deja vu. It was a reflection of that tragic day. You were the silhouette. The shadowed figure — the one who died.
She remembered that day clearly now, how you had tried to surprise her after work but had arrived a bit too late. Sana had closed the cafe early, the same idea as you in mind. She remembered turning around just in time to see you running, set on catching up to her. Unaware of the incoming car. The all too familiar honk, tires screeching, and beaming headlights replayed in her flashback. The image of the truck not being able to stop in time. The scene played out exactly the same as her nightmare. Except when she turned the body around it was you in her arms.
She held you in her arms as she panicked. Your hands gripped tightly onto Sana’s sweater fear evident in your face. Sana stared into your eyes, your gaze furthering away. There was not enough time for help to arrive, even so, Sana called Mina out of desperation. By the time Mina and the help she called for would get there, it would be far too late.
Instead of watching the life drain from own eyes, she watched the life drain from her lover’s eye. The love of her life. Despite it being herself in her nightmare, Sana felt there was no difference whether it was you or her. You were her life. Her everything. The memories she had tried to bury, a trauma response to the loss, had finally resurfaced.
A gentle breeze swept through the cemetery, hitting the two girls. The wind being soft but strong enough to wipe away some of Sana’s tears. Sana looks at your headstone, a defeated smile crossing her pale face. She felt you there with her, as if you had sent the small breeze. Sana knew that she would never forget you, not anymore.
Mina was now at her side. She places a comforting hand onto Sana’s back, offering her silent support. The two of them sit there for a long time, sharing in the sorrow and bittersweet memories of you. In that moment, Sana felt the burden on her shoulders lift and a strange sense of closure.
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awritessomething · 8 months
Note
Hey I saw your requests are open
If you want to can you write a Derek Morgan x Spencer's sister where Spencer finds out their dating. Can it be very angsty but full of fluff at the end ( sorry if ive worded it weird ive never requested a fic before)
Thank you 😁
i love angst thank you so very much
𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | derek morgan x fem!reader
requests
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Derek Morgan and Y/N Reid had been hiding their relationship from everyone on the face of the Earth for a year. An unexpected interruption one night ruins everything.
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | angst, reid!reader, angry spencer, arguing, crying, swearing, protective!spencer.
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Y/N Reid and Derek Morgan, the two people least likely to be in a relationship, were. Y/N was Spencer Reid’s twin sister. Surprisingly, she also shared that same intelligence that Spencer did. That was most likely how they managed to keep everything hidden for so long.
Derek and Y/N had always been so careful. They were so careful with hiding their relationship from the public, from their friends, and especially from their family. Specifically Y/Ns family. Neither of them wanted to keep it a secret, of course they wanted to be able to be all public and lovey-dove, but that wasn't possible. Spencer was a supportive brother when it came to academics and almost every aspect of Y/Ns life, but not when it came to relationships.
With every boyfriend that Y/N had ever had, Spencer was always there, telling the man something to make him feel so stupid until the man just could not handle it anymore. He loved his twin sister and didn't want her to get hurt and for some reason, he believed that any and all men would hurt her.
Once Y/N told Derek this at the very beginning of their relationship, he had tried to convince her that it would be fine or that he could handle Spencer's criticism. She knew better. That was what her past boyfriend had said and just as she had predicted, he could not handle it. He ended up breaking up with her only a short while after meeting Spencer.
To respect Y/Ns wishes, Derek agreed to keep it secret. They kept it secret surprisingly well. Derek still acted like he was into other women when he was out in public, Y/N still went to parties when she could. Of course neither of them ever cheated on each other, everything that they said about other people were just lies. Somehow, Spencer never caught onto Derek's lying and Y/Ns disinterest in bringing home another man.
Everything was going so smoothly. It had gone perfectly for a whole year. On Derek and Y/Ns one year anniversary, things started to go wrong. After getting some dinner delivered to Y/Ns house from a fancy restaurant, they were laying in bed together, watching one of their shared favorite movies.
"Y/N, I know you don't want me to keep pestering you about this but when do you think we should tell Reid about us?" Derek asked as he was running soft circles on the skin of her arm. She looked down at his hand and then sighed.
"Soon, Derek. You know I don't like hiding it either, but we have to." She responded, looking up at her boyfriend now with a soft smile. He couldn't even try to be frustrated with her.
"We've been together for a year now, are you sure he wont be a bit understanding?"
"I know my brother. Spencer will not approve." She shook her head. Derek gave up on the subject. About halfway through the movie, the wine got to Derek and he fell asleep, his head now resting on her as he snored. With his weight on top of her, Y/N ended up falling asleep as well. The movie was still playing quite loudly in the background, it muffled any other background noise quite well.
It wasn't really like the couple would be thanking the movie for what happened next though. In fact, they were more mad about it than anything. Spencer and Y/N had been hanging out the day before. She left her sweater at his place. In her opinion, he kept his place too warm. He only noticed her sweater hung up on the coat-rack a few hours after she left. He decided to drive it over to her house.
In her house, Y/N had her arms around Derek who had his head resting on her chest. Spencer had a key to her house, she had a key to his. They had these just in case they needed something or in case one forgot their key. They lived quite close.
Spencer hadn't noticed Derek's car since it was parked about two blocks away and around a corner. He fiddled with his keychain and then opened the door. He could hear the movie playing.
"Y/N?" He called out. The movie was too loud though and she didn't respond. She had a thing where she always put her shoes in the closet beside the front door. One of her coats had fallen down and covered Derek's shoes. Spencer put his shoes in the closet and then walked through the hall. Before he got to her door, he knocked on the door. "Y/N, are you awake?" He called out again. This time, both she and Derek heard his voice. She didn't respond though, in too much shock to even think of the most basic word in the English language.
He turned the doorknob and opened the bedroom door just as Derek was trying to scramble out the window. He froze in the doorway. Derek froze in the window.
"What the fuck." That was all Spencer could even imagine saying as he saw his best friend and his sister together. Derek turned his head slowly and looked at Spencer. "Get back here, Morgan."
Derek dropped back down into the room as if he was being yelled at by an angry parent. Y/N was completely silent, just looking between the two men. "I swear, we can explain." Derek was about to try and start defending his and Y/Ns relationship. Spencer lifted a hand and Derek shut his mouth. He had never been so scared of a scrawny nerdy man before.
"Spence, please. I love him." Y/N crawled out of the bed and walked over to her brother. He looked down at her, an unimpressed look in his eyes.
"You said this about the last guy too. What about the one before him?" He brought up her past boyfriends and she looked down for a second, her cheeks reddening. Derek was a bit too nervous to speak up, so he just stayed quiet. He planned on only speaking if he was spoken to.
"I'm serious about Derek."
"Then why didn't you tell me?" His voice cracked. Y/N tilted her head, a little bit confused now. "How long?"
"We've been together for a year."
"A year? You've been together for a year but you didn't tell me?"
"I didn't want you to be mad at us."
"You're my sister. Derek is my best friend. You thought that dating him and not telling me would be better than just telling me?" Spencer raised his voice a bit. Y/N flinched. Derek stepped forward now. "It was your idea, wasn't it?" Spencer directed his attention to Derek now.
"No, Spence, he wanted to tell you. I told him not to." Y/N tried to defend Derek. He looked at her, furrowing his brows in concern. Spencer scoffed and then gave her the sweater that he was still holding in his hands. She glanced down at it and then back up at her brother.
"Whatever. You know what, I don't know why I'm surprised." Spencer ran a hand through his hair. "You're always sleeping around with women, I should have expected that one day you would manage to get my sister too." He pointed an angry finger at Derek.
"Woah, woah. No. Listen, at first, I didn't even think that she was your sister, ok?" Derek decided to speak up now. Spencer rolled his eyes. "I know it sounds dumb, but its true. I met her when she was coming to the BAU to talk to you about some case, but we talked for a few minutes and I only found out that she is your sister when I saw her walk over to you."
"You still thought that it would be fine to make a move on her?" Spencer asked, still holding that same angry look in his eyes. It was one that Derek didn't think he had ever seen.
"Yeah. I thought maybe my best friend would understand that I found a girl who I really liked and that I wanted to see if she would give me a chance. She did."
"Bullshit." He grumbled. Derek glanced down at Y/N and then back at Spencer, a bit confused as to what he was saying now.
"Which part?"
"You thought I would be fine with this?" Spencer crossed his arms.
"Yeah, I thought you were mature enough."
"Don't do that." Y/N whispered to Derek. It was a bit too late though. Spencer ran another hand through his hair.
"Fine. I hope you're happy with him for whatever time you have left." Spencer spat and then walked out of the bedroom and house. Y/N and Spencer stood there, just silently thinking.
"What if he's right? Should we even be together?" Y/N asked, looking up at Derek. Her eyes were glossed over with tears. Derek felt his heart squeezing at both her words and the sad look in her eyes.
"Come on, of course he's not right." Derek held her hand, bringing it to his lips to press a soft kiss to it.
"Derek, I don't remember the last time he was wrong." She frowned as Derek continued to press soft kisses along the back of her hand and knuckles.
"I know. This is a first though, ok? Don't listen to him."
"I need some time, Derek. Can you give me that?" She requested. He frowned.
"No, I can't." He used his grip on her hand to pull him into her arms. She broke down, tears streaming down her cheeks. Having her boyfriend rejected by Spencer was nothing new, but it still hurt. Her fingers dug into his shirt, clinging to him as she sobbed. He put his chin on top of her head and just held her, letting her cry.
"He'll come around eventually, ok? I'm not going anywhere." He stroked her hair gently and she nodded, pulling out of his arms and looking up at him. He wiped away her tears.
They spent the rest of their night just talking and thinking about their future. Over the next couple of weeks, they got used to being more public. They told their non-Spencer-related friends and then Derek's family. Everyone was super supportive and honestly just happy that they had each other.
Y/N walked into the BAU one day, her purse on her arm as she walked through the space. Spencer looked at her from his desk, confused as to why she was there. Emily whispered something to J.J. and then kept watching. Derek was leaning against a wall, talking to Penelope about something. She walked up beside him.
"Oh- hi! You're Reid's sister, right?"
"Yeah. I'm Y/N." She stuck out her hand and shook Penelope's hand who gave her a welcoming smile. She tried her best not to say anything too crazy for now. Derek glanced down at Y/N, who was now reaching into her purse.
"You forgot this at my place." She pulled out something and handed it to him. He slipped the object into his pocket.
"Thanks." He smiled and then leaned down and kissed her. Penelope let out a sharp gasp, obviously completely flabbergasted at what she was seeing. Y/N smiled against Derek's lips and then pulled away.
"I'll see you tonight?" She asked, running a hand down his chest.
"Always." Derek reassured her. Y/N turned and left with a little wave. Everyone had seen. Even Rossi and Hotch. Everyone kind of looked around at each other and then immediately started bombarding Derek with questions on his not so new girlfriend.
When Spencer heard how Derek talked about her as if she was some sort of angel, he started to rethink his opinion on their relationship. Penelope and Y/N got along great and so she was then friends with the girls at the BAU. They all heard about their relationship, but they also heard about the problems with Spencer.
It took a few more months before Spencer ended up warming up to their relationship and stopped trying to destroy or show his disapproval of their love. With his approval, everything just managed to get better. That was all either could ask for.
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mikanotes · 7 months
Text
goodbyes are sour
connor x gn!reader — 2.1k words
genre: angst sorta! mutual pining in denial
warnings: mentions of guns and killing, kabedon for the sake of science, connor unreliable narrator LOL u have feelings android man… maybe ooc idk. (wrote this w the idea of connor being deviant since the beginning bcs Yeah!)
synopsis: You meet Connor again. Turns out things are much more complicated when you aren’t working together.
author’s note: hi dbh fic?! i Love connor nd i’ve been writing this for a while (crazy since it’s rly short) but i don’t like it much… anyways whoevers alive in the dbh fandom have this!
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“Detective.”
There’s just something about the way Connor speaks. The cadence, the pitch, the enunciation of each word. It’s painfully evident that he isn’t human. Everything about him is so machine-like that even his perfect, human-like exterior could not fool anyone. However it is something you got used to. Hearing the android speak your name and call you ‘Detective’ back a while ago felt somewhat unsettling. Now it’s so easy to recognize that it almost makes you feel at ease.
“Do you seriously think I’m an android? I don’t wanna deal with those fucking machines, either. I’d be glad if you put a bullet through them rather than me.”
Turns out hearing him fake being a human is ten times more terrifying than his android speech patterns could ever hope to be.
This was not part of the plan.
You were sent with a unit to patrol around the streets for any android who still hadn’t been brought back or destroyed. You weren’t a fan of this whole assignment, but felt better than the rookies who were sent out to shoot humanoid robots as their first field mission probably did.
It would be fine, is what you told yourself, because you didn’t feel anything towards Cyberlife’s creations enough to be completely uncomfortable with the idea of their blue blood on your hands, though it wasn’t ideal. You could manage. Until the first person you came across happened to be the one android you genuinely cared about.
“I don’t think he’s one of them…” one of your fellow officers murmurs next to you. You suddenly become very aware of the gun he, too, is holding and pointing towards the target. Fuck. As if the situation wasn’t bad enough.
At least this idiot’s performance seems to be fooling them.
You wait one second, then sigh on the second, and finally lower your gun on the third. “You shouldn’t be here.” you say casually, prompting your colleagues to relax and the atmosphere to lighten a little. Your heart is in your throat, however. “We’ve got orders to round up every android we see around here. You should go home. This isn’t exactly safe.”
“I know, I know.” he sighs, rolling his eyes a little, “I was gonna leave anyways, thanks.”
Your coworkers mumble to themselves about how disagreeable this guy’s attitude is and it’s enough for them to miss the wink the latter sends your way as he leaves. You almost regret not shooting a bullet through his head.
Still, you sigh in relief, setting your gun back at your side and running a hand over your face. You don’t think you can continue patrolling in peace. There’s one too many questions in your mind and the key to answering them is escaping from your grasp.
You take the phone in your pocket and pretend to get a call, moving it to your ear and looking at the members of your team. “I’ll join up with you later.” you say, gesturing towards your phone. They nod and walk away, and you do the same, feeling more relieved than ever that these people see you as a leader of sorts. They won’t question you on anything. You hurry towards the direction your so-called partner left to the moment they’re out of sight.
A rooftop door, stairs, and more stairs. You’re jogging down like you’re chasing a criminal on the run. You’re down to the fifth floor out of eight when someone grabs your arm and pulls you out a door.
“Wha—” you try to yell, but a cold hand settle over your mouth. Your body relaxes but your expression tenses. Connor. “Let me go,” you mumble incoherently, surprisingly succeeding in getting him to let you step away.
You sigh and shake your head, turning around abruptly. His ‘human costume’ (which really just was a grey suit jacket thrown over what should’ve been his Cyberlife uniform, glasses, and a cap to hide his LED) is already gone, replaced by his usual attire, just missing his jacket.
“What the hell was that about?” you ask, annoyed, pointing towards the staircase (back there, on the roof) and the android simply shrugs. “Connor.”
“I was undercover, Detective. I thought someone as smart as you would recognize that much.” he says, his tone back to normal. You’d feel relieved if he wasn’t being so irritating. “Was I wrong?”
Your face drops. “No. I figured as much. But what for?” you sigh, crossing your arms.
“Same mission as always.”
“Who are you chasing? Did you find the place?”
“I have no reason to tell you.”
It only clicks then that while you know about Connor continuing his mission after being laid off the case, you’re not part of it anymore. He had to be sent back to Cyberlife, and you should’ve been forgetting about him entirely. You’re still DPD, and you have orders to shoot Androids on sight— Which you clearly aren’t following. He’s right. He has no reason to tell you.
Still.
You grab his arm when he threatens to walk away. You’re not sure what you want to say, but you’re not done talking. He lets you. “Connor.”
“Detective.” he says. You straighten your back and sigh, not breaking eye contact. He tilts his head to the side and his LED flashes yellow for an instant. “You’re angry.”
Of course you’re angry. He’s infuriating. There’s something about how logical and dead-set on following every single rule he is that makes Connor the most annoying individual you’ve ever talked to. Everything he does has to be for his mission. Every single thing.
“Do threats work with you?” you ask blankly, “If you don’t tell me where it is, I’ll get Cyberlife to bring you back, and all that?”
When he takes a step closer to you again, forcing your back to press against the wall, and his LED does not even threaten to change hues, you’re taken aback. Just a bit. It’s the same kind of frustrated attitude you would’ve expected from a human after saying what you just did. But not Connor.
He doesn’t seem frustrated, though. And you know he can look annoyed. He just doesn’t. So he must not be. And you want to find what it is he’s doing exactly, stepping closer to you without even saying a word, but your brain feels like it’s short-circuiting at the distance between you two. You know he does everything for his work. Does he think you have new information on deviants? Does he really believe you would call Cyberlife on him? Is he using his stupid interrogation module on you? Whatever it is makes you even more annoyed.
The silence feels heavy. It makes things worse. It gives your brain time to process how this is making you feel and it’s no good at all. “What?” you break the silence, tone somewhat irritated.
“I’m trying to understand the reason why you’re so angry at me.” he explains simply, like it makes sense. His eyes narrow a bit and the LED at the side of his head flickers yellow for a moment. “And no, Detective. Threats don’t work on me. Not when I can tell you’re lying so easily.” he adds, quieter.
“Shut up.” you scoff.
“I dont think I will.”
“Connor.”
“— However,” he interrupts, “I can step away from you at any moment if you tell me to.”
“No.”
“No?”
What— No?! You register the word after saying it and sigh, face contorting into a somewhat pained expression. You panicked and said it, your mind processing his offer as him leaving you again— With no information and nothing to ease your stupid worries. Now it just sounds odd.
Is that embarrassment?
“You didn’t finish what you were trying to do, did you? You haven’t told me why I’m angry yet. Since you apparently care so much.” you say, tone sounding much softer than before. Your apparent discomposure took away all the bitterness from your voice. Interesting.
Truth be told, Connor knows why you’re angry. He’s not letting you in on the details of what he’s doing despite the time you spent working as partners a very short while ago. He’s spent enough time with people, and you especially, to know that after forming some kind of bond with a work partner, it would be frustrating not to receive information about their mission the way you used to from them—
Especially considering he was still chasing after something you both knew about. Jericho. But he cannot tell you about that. Not… Right now.
What he really was trying to do was evaluate how much of a threat you really could be to his investigation. He didn’t sense any hostility before and he doesn’t now, and you could’ve shot him but you didn’t. But it’s not enough. He needs more time— More evidence that it’s fine. That’s why he pulled you here in the first place. That’s why he pressured you to talk.
He needs to make sure killing you isn’t necessary.
“Because I posed a threat to the stability of your current mission earlier. You wouldn’t have been able to shoot me had I been discovered, and your reaction to your colleagues shooting me would’ve jeopardized your job itself.” he answers.
This reasoning would make sense.
“That’s not it.” you sigh.
Your heartbeat is slowing down. No good. Connor leans his arm on the wall next to you and moves closer. Your heartbeat picks up in speed. It’s almost alarming. He can tell all the details about your physical condition and deduce what you’re thinking or feeling based off of them, sure. But he’s no human. The way he views and comprehends emotions is registered in his system in a much more clear and logic-based way than it is in humans’ brains.
So maybe he won’t ever know why your heart beats so heavily against your ribcage. So he just has to pressure the right places and demand answers. He unfortunately can’t allow you to relax. He won’t get anything out of you if you’re calm. You’re much too turbulent for that.
Or maybe he’ll just have to ask. In a normal way.
“Detective, what’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me?” you scoff, eyes widening. Wrong question.
You seem like you want to be angry but something is holding you back from displaying just how much he gets on your nerves. You sigh deeply and look at him, “What’s wrong with you? You’re acting so weird. More than usual. Why’d you pull me here if you didn’t want to tell me anything? And I’m worried. What if you really did get shot? Wasn’t Cyberlife supposed to deactivate you? They wouldn’t have brought in another Connor this time. You’re off the case, you— You would’ve died!”
“Maybe.”
There’s circles under your eyes. There always are, but they’re more defined now than they were the last time he saw you. Now that you’re actually being honest, your whole voice and mannerisms betray any of your usual annoyed and dismissive facade. He didn’t think you cared this much, though he understands that some humans are quick to empathize. To a fault.
Now it’s clear he doesn’t need to eliminate you at all. Part of him seems to have grown fond of your company. He couldn’t risk that getting in the way of his better judgment.
“I only pulled you here so you wouldn’t pointlessly chase down the streets searching for me, since I made sure no one would follow.” he says, stepping back and giving you more space, “You’re a police officer. It doesn’t matter what you say you’ll keep to yourself or not. I can’t compromise. This is too important.”
You’re hurt, it’s visible. He’s saying he can’t risk trusting you. He figures that must not feel nice.
The sound of the radio attached to your side breaks this prolonged silence with the promise of separation. You take it, eyes not leaving Connor’s, and listen to your colleague speak. You tell them you’ll be right there. You’re not one to be late. He knows you’ll really leave this time— Too far away for him to hope to talk to you again, if anything goes awry.
You turn the radio off and put it back where it was. “Hope you succeed, then.” you say, bitter, and push yourself up to start walking away.
“Take care of yourself, Detective.” Connor says. Asks. The words come out before he can really think. Something about your voice and this whole atmosphere made him… Feel uneasy. Like he needed to say something. If this is how your partnership ends, he doesn’t believe it should be on such a sour note. He cares doesn’t dislike you at all, so why should it?
You stagger a little, seemingly stopping in your tracks, but moving again no more than a second later. “You too, Connor.”
Somehow, goodbyes had never seemed so sad.
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octanesprohoetype · 2 years
Text
no strings attached – genji shimada
NSFW!!! MINORS DNI!!!!
a/n: hello, first post on my new blog >:3 this note is gonna be long and ramble-y so feel free to skip it. to begin with, everything about this fic was unplanned. i never planned on my first post here being overwatch related, nor did i plan on it being porn, but here we are with overwatch porn. and then, i was only trying to write a short 1-2k word valentine's day smut, but it is 2 days after valentine's and this fic is 5.5k words long with layers like a cake. this is the first thing i've written for overwatch, and also the first smut i've written in 2 years, so i may be rusty. i hope you enjoy it anyway.
word count: 5.5k
tags/summary: porn with plot (kind of), mild angst?, idiots in love. you invite genji over, hoping that having sex with him would help you get over the annoying feelings you have for him. that doesn't happen for you.
warnings: no pronouns used for reader, female genitalia is vaguely described tho, unprotected sex
edited to add: this fic is now on my ao3 as well! thanks to @smol-dragon for reminding me :3
"damn it. fuck."
you lock your phone and squeeze your eyelids shut, forcing the screen out of your vision, and throw your head back against the pillow in frustration. this is so, so stupid, you tell yourself, and it is stupid, yet you can't let it go.
you were an adult– you shouldn't be having inner turmoil about how you wanted to have sex with someone. it wasn't anything you hadn't done before, but for some reason, it was suddenly impossible to navigate.
"damn you, genji," you mutter, slapping one of your hands against your forehead.
this was all his fault. you'd never felt the urge to have sex with a coworker, honestly, the thought had never even crossed your mind... or at least, that was true until you met genji. you ignored your attraction to the cyborg at first– sure, he was nice to look at and had an alluring air of danger about him, but he was no different from cassidy in that regard. you figured whatever attraction you had to him would quickly dissipate into nothing, as it did with the cowboy, but to your dismay, it only grew stronger.
at first, you found yourself admiring the intricacy of his cybernetic body parts, and then his combat style. then, you found yourself staring at him for much longer, entranced by his form and the way he spoke.
genji himself did absolutely nothing to alleviate you of your newly-contracted disease. in fact, it almost seemed that he intentionally made it worse. he'd jump to your aid in combat, ghost his fingers across you in passing, and you caught him casting you lingering glances, though you could never tell what thoughts were going on behind his actions.
you told yourself it was probably nothing, that you were being delusional and trying to convince yourself that your crush (if you could call it that) was reciprocated. you were almost successful in convincing yourself to let it go, but the interaction between the two of you today not only reignited your thoughts of him, but intensified them.
genji had been in one of the sparring ranges at headquarters, dutifully practicing his aim, though you didn't really think it was necessary. you were observing, over-exaggerating your interest in his technique as an excuse to be around him, and offhandedly made a comment about wishing you could use a sword.
"i'd be happy to teach you," genji had replied.
you jumped at the offer, but severely overestimated yourself in terms of your sword-wielding capabilities. it looked easy, but maybe that was just because you'd only ever seen genji do it, and he made it seem effortless. after failing miserably, you were ready to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment, but genji seemed determined to teach you.
he'd walked up behind you, using one hand to correct your posture, and the other to guide your hands into the correct position along the sword's hilt. you were almost literally on fire underneath his touch, and it was suddenly very difficult to focus on what you were doing.
"i think this might be a waste of time," you'd commented, staring down intently at the sword in your hands so genji couldn't see how red your face was. "i'm afraid i may be a difficult person to teach."
"i'll gladly teach you about anything you want to learn," genji said, standing entirely too close to you with his hands on your shoulder and wrist. "no matter how difficult you may be."
(y/n.exe has stopped working.)
you stared back at him, wide-eyed, with every functional part of your brain failing you. fortunately for you, your phone rang, interrupting the uncomfortable sexual tension that had suddenly filled the room. mercy was calling, requesting your help with something 'important'. after pretending you were really sorry for leaving so abruptly, you practically ran out of the room, silently thanking the doctor for calling you at the best possible time and giving you a get-out-of-jail free card.
you sat through the tactical meeting with mercy and tracer, though you had absolutely no helpful feedback to offer. your mind was fixed on genji the entire time, and your skin still felt hot from where his hands had been. i really need to get laid, you thought, this is pathetic.
now, even though it was hours later, you were still in the same predicament. try as you might, your brain absolutely refused to focus on anything or anyone besides genji. your television had long since blurred into background noise, bits and pieces of some stupid rom-com becoming the soundtrack to your turmoil.
maybe i should just text him... you think, for the millionth time. it was easy, or at least, it should have been easy. finding someone to screw wasn't usually this difficult for you, and you usually didn't care one way or another, but the thought of genji rejecting you was terrifying. even worse was the thought of having to see him again afterwards.
your mind goes back to the sparring range, and you swallow harshly. 'desperate' was never a word you'd use to describe yourself before, but now... when it came to genji, it was kind of an understatement.
"fuck it," you say aloud, swallowing your pride and unlocking your phone.
- hey. are you busy?
he starts typing immediately. how scary.
- i am not. do you need something?
- kind of. i have... a question.
"i am such a fucking loser," you mutter as you watch genji's text bubble appear on the screen.
- what is it?
suddenly, you didn't want to ask anymore. maybe you could go out for drinks with cassidy instead of doing this. you stare blankly at the screen for a while.
- ???
- actually, nevermind. it's embarrassing.
- surely no worse than your attempt at swordsmanship?
- sorry, that was a joke.
- wow, okay. definitely not asking now :'(
- come on.
- okay. do you wanna...
- have sex? with me?
you watch in horror as he starts typing, then stops, then starts again.
- are you serious?
- that is entirely dependent on your answer.
- why... are you asking me?
- i don't know how to answer that.
- i'm definitely taking that as a no.
- i didn't say that.
- well, you didn't say yes either...
- i'm not sure i understand what you're getting at here
- not sure what you mean by that. i'm just asking to have sex
- for the record, i'm not expecting you to be my boyfriend or anything
- just a one time thing. no strings attached
- no strings attached? lol
- okay
okay? okay? what the hell was 'okay' supposed to mean?
- are you there?
- yes. an answer?
- if you're gonna say no i'd like to go ahead and get it over with so that i can go get drunk enough to forget my shame lmao
- that won't be necessary.
- the answer is yes. obviously
your heart almost stops beating for a second. surely this, too, was a joke.
- seriously? like... actually?
- ...
- yes?
- wow! unexpected.
- are you free? like... tonight, maybe?
- i'll be there. 20 minutes?
twenty minutes? was that enough time to prepare? you immediately scramble out of bed to your dresser, searching for something risqué to wear. you owned an obscene amount of lingerie, but for some reason, none of it seemed good enough for the occasion.
you knew enough about genji's past to know that he'd been with more than his fair share of people, and though you weren't inexperienced by any means, it had been a while– most of your time had been dedicated to overwatch lately. you were sure that the names and faces of genji's old lovers blurred together, and although you specifically said 'no strings attached', you wanted to make the best possible impression. even if you never slept together again, you wanted to be memorable, at the very least.
eventually, you realize you're running short on time and opt to put on your personal favorite set. it had never steered you wrong before. you quickly change into it and throw on an oversized hoodie with some random game logo on it– very basic, you noted, but you didn't want to look like you were trying too hard, although you definitely were.
after checking the time, you wander aimlessly around the house waiting for genji to arrive. you definitely weren't nervously pacing from room to room, overanalyzing every aspect of this situation– no, that is not at all what you were doing. before long, you hear a knock at the door. your anxiety spikes through the roof, but you do your best to get a hold of yourself as you walk to the foyer to let genji in.
when you open the door, you see genji, as expected, and he looks the same as always. there was nothing special about his outfit (because why would there be?) and you're very glad you didn't decide to wear something over-the-top. he's also wearing a mask, as usual, but you can actually see his eyes with this one.
"i like your shirt," he says casually. "good game."
you blink at him, having been completely lost in the crimson pools of his irises.
"oh, yeah, it is," you reply, nodding in affirmation. "um, come inside."
he laughs quietly as he steps through the doorway, and you furrow your brows at him in confusion, but decide to ignore it and move on. you lead genji through the house, mentally grasping for straws as to where to go from here. to be honest, you didn't think you'd get this far, so you're at a complete loss.
"sorry, i feel like this feels really weird. i don't usually... sleep with my coworkers," you explain as you reach the bedroom.
genji's eyes are fixed on you, and despite having a clear view of them, you still can't tell what he's thinking. it proves to be very anxiety-inducing.
"i didn't think you did," he says.
"thanks? i think?" you reply, unsure of how else to react. "i'm going to warn you that this might actually go really, really badly, because i haven't slept with anyone in a while, and you kind of make me really nervous, and i also don't–"
you're cut off by genji moving closer to you and moving his hand towards your face. the action causes your words to vanish and your train of thought to come to a screeching halt. you stare at him with wide eyes as he moves a stray strand of hair from your face and brushes it behind your ear.
"i make you nervous?" he asks, an amused tone to his question. "you? nervous?"
you can feel heat rush to your cheeks, and you're hyper-aware of his hand lingering near your face, but despite this you try your best to sound cool. "yeah, i know, it's pretty hard to believe! but it's true."
genji laughs. "you're funny."
"i am?"
"yeah," he replies. his dark eyes are sparkling a bit, and although you can't see it, you can tell that he's smiling beneath the mask.
you look away from his face, your gaze falling to his hand. it's still in the air, close enough to your cheek that you can feel the warmth, but not quite touching you. he seems... strangely hesitant to touch you, so you decide to take the initiative.
genji's eyes widen a bit as you reach out and cup his face, brushing your thumb across the sleek metal of his mask.
"are you planning to keep this on?" you ask.
genji freezes in place, visibly caught off guard by your question. "i–"
you giggle at his reaction. "hey, no pressure. it doesn't matter to me. i'll still think you're hot either way."
"i fear you'll change your mind about that," he mutters.
you frown, unsure of what to say. "there really isn't anything that could make me change my mind about you, genji. but seriously, do whatever you're comfortable with."
he makes a quiet noise in response, and you can see in his eyes that he's thinking carefully about what to do. after a few seconds of silence, he holds your wrist and moves it away with one hand, then carefully removes his mask with the other. you can't help but stare, not only because you're surprised that he actually chose to remove his mask, but because he's even better looking than you had imagined– scars and all.
he looks at you, eyes filled with uncertainty, and clearly a bit uncomfortable.
"you're staring. sorry to disappoint. i can put it back on, if you'd prefer..." he says quietly, as if he's ashamed. it's sad, enough so to distract you from your mission of keeping things clean and simple.
you shake your head and wrap your arms around his neck, staring up at him with a reassuring smile. "i'd prefer if you didn't, actually. i can't believe you didn't tell me you were so good-looking underneath that mask."
"i... don't think that's a term i'd use. not anymore, at least," he says, not meeting your gaze. "but i'm glad that you think so."
genji hesitantly puts his hands on your hips, his eyes fixed on the logo on your hoodie. he doesn't seem to know how to react to your compliments, but there's a shy smile on his face nonetheless.
"i mean, i thought you were hot enough before. it never occurred to me that you could manage to be even hotter," you tell him with a smirk.
he looks up at you, blushing profusely, and you're filled with a sense of satisfaction. "i, um, didn't realize you felt so strongly about me."
you look away, deciding to ignore that comment, and begin to trail one of your hands from his neck to his collarbone, then down his abdomen, which was unfortunately covered by his clothes.
"well, the mask is off. that's one thing down," you say, toying with the hem of his hoodie. "just a few more to go."
genji doesn't hesitate to reach down and tug off the hoodie, discarding it on the floor. he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath, and he also wasn't wearing his usual metal plating. his right arm and part of his right upper torso are still made of flesh, as well as most of his midsection. the left side of his body is cybernetic, but it ends just above his hips. you find yourself staring at the intricate and seamless fusion of metal and muscle, your attention focusing in on the sharp outline of his hip bones.
a question pops into your head, but you don't have the audacity to say it out loud– is his dick cybernetic? the thought had never occurred to you before, but you also had never seen just how much of him was still made of skin and bone. honestly, it didn't matter to you either way, but it was an interesting thought. guess i'll find out soon, you think.
genji is staring at you with a strange look on his face, and you're suddenly worried you may have said something out loud.
"something wrong?" he asks. "you look... confused."
"i do?" you ask, surprised. "i was just... curious. about the cybernetic stuff. i've never really seen it up close."
"i see."
you walk over to the bed and climb on top of it, beckoning genji over to you. he follows, but stands still beside you.
"come here," you say, reaching for his hand. "i want a closer look."
he smirks and nods, quickly climbing into the bed and positioning himself on his knees between your legs. you trace the outline of his abs, running your fingers along the border of skin and metal, taking in every detail, and then you realize that he's staring at you again.
"what?" you ask.
"you're overdressed," he says. "i want to look at you, too."
"oh," you pause, realizing that you were in fact still (mostly) fully clothed. "you can take the hoodie off."
genji's hands immediately move to pull at your top. you reposition yourself to make it easier, and you watch as he tosses it into the now-growing pile on the floor alongside his own jacket.
you can hear his breathing grow shallow, and you look back up at him nervously. he's staring down at you with wide, dark eyes, with his hands clenched into fists atop his thighs.
"damn," he breathes. "you're... really the most attractive person i've met."
it's not as though you had notably low self-esteem or anything, but genji's reaction was far more than you expected, and the attention makes you feel embarrassed.
"that definitely feels like flattery, but i'll let it slide," you reply. you're mostly teasing him, but you're also kind of serious– 'most attractive person i've met' is an extremely bold statement to make, especially coming from someone with a track record like genji's.
"flattery? you really think so?" genji asks, seeming to be genuinely taken aback by the accusation.
"mm, it doesn't really matter," you reply, desperate to cut this conversation off before it derails. come on, y/n do not get your feelings involved in this, damn it.
genji leans over you, propping himself up with one arm and lifting your chin with the other. he stares at you with an intimidating intensity, but you can't bring yourself look away from him.
"i'm not that kind of man anymore," he says, his tone serious. you look down at his lips, and before you can form a response, he kisses you.
the kiss is just as intense as the stare he'd been giving you, and it takes a moment for you to register that it's even happening. once you kiss him back, it grows into something more needy. his tongue finds its way into your mouth, and you try your hardest to suppress a whine. you reach to tangle your fingers in his hair and subtly pull his body closer to yours, while genji cups your face with his free hand, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your cheeks.
the kiss seems to go on forever, progressively becoming more sensual. you're so lost in the moment that you temporarily forget that you need to breathe. eventually, both of you pull away for air, lips slightly puffed, and eyes half-open, filled with desire.
you press one of your hands against genji's chest, the other still toying with his hair. he's slumped against you, now leaning against his elbow instead of his hand. your body is flush against his, and you can feel his hard-on pressing against you. you softly grind your hips against him, creating just enough friction to cause you both to inhale sharply.
genji looks down at you, his eyes slowly grazing over your body. he sits up, leaning back on his haunches, looking as though he was deep in thought.
"genji?"
your voice doesn't draw his attention back to your face, but he responds, brows still furrowed. "yeah?"
"touch me," you tell him, almost begging. "please."
he smirks. "sure."
he leans back over you, his face so close to yours that you can see every detail of the scars that paint his skin. the two of you stare into each others eyes, and he pushes your underwear aside without even glancing down. his human hand cups your face, and the metal one assumes its position between your legs.
the sensation of cool, smooth metal against your clit elicits a gasp from you, and genji seems hesitant. he draws his hand back, staring down at it with a forlorn expression.
"sorry," he says. "i... kind of forgot."
you reach for his wrist and pull his hand back to where it had been, shaking your head.
"no, it's fine. you don't need to apologize," you tell him. he still looks unsure, but he doesn't argue.
genji toys with your clit with expert precision, and as much as you enjoy it, your patience starts to wane. as if he can tell, he directs his attention elsewhere, carefully and almost hesitantly inserting two of his fingers into you. you whimper at the feeling, clenching around the unfamiliar texture. it's an entirely new feeling– putting metal there was never something you thought to do, nor did you ever really imagine what it would feel like– but it's good. it's obvious that genji is worried he'll hurt you, or that you won't like it, and you have what you hope will be an easy solution to his concerns.
you bite your lip, looking up at him with your best 'fuck me' eyes, and let go of the restraint you were trying to show. you didn't want to look desperate, but clearly he needed more reassurance that you wanted this– that you wanted him. a string of swear words, interrupted by panting and lewd noises, leaves your mouth, and you rut your hips against his hand, urging him to go deeper.
it seems to work. the dark look that was lingering on genji's face was replaced with a spark, and his movements become more free, no longer limited by the shackles of his insecurity. his well-earned confidence starts to shine through, and you smile in satisfaction, but only for a moment. with genji now seemingly returned to his former playboy glory, you find yourself unable to think straight, too busy writhing under his touch, crying out his name and clenching at the sheets.
"i could get used to hearing you say my name like that," genji comments, a teasing grin on his face.
oh god, please shut up, you think. it was almost as if he wanted you to fall in love with him or something, which was definitely not a part of your plan– in fact, it was the exact opposite of what you wanted.
"don't... say– fuck," you want to tell him not to say things like that, but you're overwhelmed with the feeling of your fast-approaching orgasm. what unfortunate timing. "gonna cum."
genji picks up the pace, unable to decide if he wants to look at your face or at his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you. you attempt to clench your thighs together, though genji's body blocks the action, and as you come undone, he decides the best thing for him to look at is your expression.
you squirm beneath genji, eyes squeezed shuts and knuckles turning white from the force with which you're grasping at your bedsheets. he watches carefully, taking in every minute detail of the way you look when you cum, while still fucking his fingers into you as you ride out the high of your orgasm. once you still, he slides his fingers out, the matte grey now slick and shiny. you open your eyes just in time to watch him pop his fingers in his mouth. he looks back at you through half-lidded eyes, a devious smirk on his face as he watches your already blown-out pupils widen at his actions. to add icing to the cake, he licks his lips, and suddenly you think 'wow, i'd let him do anything to me'.
"god," you mutter, shifting awkwardly. you were trying to rub your thighs together at the thoughts coursing through your mind, but genji was in the way.
you trail your eyes along his body, coming to a halt at the bulge in his joggers. you reach for the waistband of his pants, tugging them down to the middle of his thigh, but the position he was sitting in prevented you from getting them any further. genji climbs off of the mattress and yanks his pants and boxers off himself, then proceeds to do the same with your underwear. the intensity of the hunger between the two of you was so thick it was almost physical, and you can't pull your eyes away from him.
to your surprise, his dick was made of flesh. not that you had any complaints either way– it was just unexpected. you take a moment to admire him, then reach out to pull him back into the bed with you. genji resumes his position between your legs, lifting them up so that your knees are at your chest. the two of you both look down, watching in anticipation as he slides inside of you. he slowly pushes himself in farther, continuing until he bottoms out.
you both moan, almost in sync, at the sensation, and make eye contact again. genji positions his arms on either side of your head and touches his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes, as you dig your nails into his shoulder. one of your hands finds its way back to his hair, gently tugging at the spiky black tufts, keeping him as close to you as you could.
it doesn't take long for genji to find a good rhythm, his thrusts deep and and on the slower side. each movement coaxes noises out of you– his name, mostly, but a few mewls and downright pornographic-sounding moans as well. he kisses you again, lustful and passionate, and slides his hand into your hair to cradle your head. he pulls away, trailing kisses from your jawline to your collarbone, a few of which will surely leave some faint marks. you're not worried about that though– the only person who'd have the gall to comment on it was cassidy, anyways.
"you sound so pretty," he mumbles into your neck.
your breath catches in your throat at his words, and your grip on his hair tightens slightly. he sounded so so hot, it sent a shiver down your spine. "mm," is the only response you can manage.
one particular thrust hits perfectly, and you short-circuit, digging your nails deep into genji's shoulder and whimpering his name. he lifts his head to look you in the eye, his eyes honing in on your lips. his movement becomes more insistent, and he kisses you again, muffling your moans.
for the next few minutes, the only sounds in the room were that of your needy whines, genji's panting and occasional grunts, and the soft skin-on-skin contact. genji was surprisingly much more gentle than you'd anticipated, affection dripping from every action. it was enough to make you start to feel a bit of regret about the whole 'one time only' spiel, but you couldn't really focus on that when he was looking at you, and touching you, and fucking you the way he was.
with the stimulation of genji inside of you, and the way he was purring praise and sweet nothings into your ear in between the barrage of kisses, it didn't take long for you feel your climax coming up. from the way genji was beginning to become more shaky and haphazard in his movements, you could tell the same was true for him.
"genji," you whisper. "i'm gonna cum."
he hums in response, furrowing his brow. "me too."
a few seconds of silence pass, and then genji looks... lost. "uh, where should i...?"
"wherever you want," you say, not really thinking. 'inside' was the first thing that came to mind, but that felt weird to say. was it weird to ask your coworker cum inside you? yeah, probably, but it couldn't be any weirder than the fact that you were having such intimate, needy sex with your coworker in the first place, right?
genji slows down and looks at you with wide eyes. "what? no preference?"
"um, i mean," you cut yourself off, biting your lip to suppress a moan. "i was gonna say inside, but like... up to you."
"are you serious? you want me to..."
so it was weird, you think, instantly regretting that you spoke. "do whatever you want."
genji stops moving, and you let out a pitiful involuntary whine.
"i'm asking, what do you want?"
does he want me to spell it out for him? you wonder. fuck it.
"i... want you to cum in me, genji," you say, looking him in the eye with a serious expression. you ignore the fact that your cheeks are almost literally burning, and also opt to ignore the little voice in your head chastising you for being so awkward.
a choked noise escapes him, and his face turns pink. he promptly hides himself in the crook of your neck again. after a few more thrusts, you can feel the burning pleasure of your orgasm reaching its peak, prompting you to cling tightly to genji. he leans back to watch, and as you clench around him, he loses his composure as well. a soft chorus of each others' names and 'fuck' fills the room as genji fucks you through your orgasm, neither of you breaking eye contact. genji leans in for another kiss as he cums. this time is somehow even more passionate than the others, and you immediately miss him when he leans back and pulls out.
you almost let an 'i love you' slip out, but immediately realize how stupid that would be, and opt to just shut your mouth entirely instead. a silence falls over the room, with the both of you breathing heavily and casting shy glances at one another as if you didn't just have passionate, unprotected sex. genji moves first, sliding into the bed beside you and propping his head up on his hand.
this is definitely going beyond what this was supposed to be, you tell yourself, but really, you're not mad about it. sure, the plan was originally for you guys to have meaningless sex and then pretend it never happened, but that plan started to crumble almost as soon as he walked through your door. you were still worried that you were reading too far into it– maybe he was like this with everyone he slept with.
"can i... be honest with you?" he asks. you nervously look over at him, an overwhelming sense of dread filling your stomach.
"yeah, of course," you reply casually. acting calm and collected when you were pretty sure you were about to hear something you really didn't want to hear was a trait you'd quickly adapted as an overwatch agent, and damn, were you thankful for it right now.
"i... haven't been with anyone in a long time," he admits. "like... since the accident."
you stay quiet. you're unsure of what to say, and you can tell he's not done talking, anyway.
"i couldn't fathom anyone wanting to be with me, considering... you know," genji sighs and averts his eyes. "i've liked you for so long, but i didn't think you'd be interested in me at all. i'm... barely even human."
you're still quiet, trying your best to process what he's saying.
"oh, yeah, sorry. i know you said this was a one time thing, and that's fine. i just thought you should know that you treating me like a person... and making me feel wanted... it means a lot," he continues. "even if it was just sex, i enjoy being around you."
"i'm... really in over my head," you mutter, mostly to yourself. "this is really unexpected, honestly. like, all of it. everything."
genji's face falls, and you realize that you misspoke. he shifts uncomfortably and starts to sit up, obviously preparing to leave. you reach for his arm, wrapping your hand carefully around the metal.
"not unwelcome, just unexpected. i... didn't want to get feelings involved because i was sure they wouldn't be returned," you explain. "you seemed kind of unapproachable. i was taking a shot in the dark."
genji laughs a little. "i seem to give that impression. it's not really the case... or at least, not with you."
you gently pull him back to your side, holding his face in your hands and giving him a quick kiss. you can't find the words to convey the emotions you feel, so you hope that touch would suffice. he presses his forehead against yours and wraps an arm around your waist, and the two of you just lay there, basking in each others' presence. this was... an unplanned turn of events, but you were much happier with this outcome.
"hmm. so much for the whole 'no strings attached' thing, huh?" you say quietly. "looks like there's definitely strings. lots of them."
genji laughs again, and you find your heart skipping a beat at the look on his face. yeah, there were so many strings tethering this man to your heart. you wanted to tell yourself that weren't sure how exactly you ended up like this, but the moment you saw him take off his mask and show you his most well-kept secret, you knew there was much more than sexual attraction there, and that there was no going back.
"thank you," genji says, pulling you out of your trance. "for... overlooking my flaws, liking me as i am. you're truly the most beautiful person i know."
you smile at him, feeling your heart quite literally melt at the way he's looking at you.
"you're beautiful, genji," you tell him. and he was. the scars and metal that made up his body weren't flaws– they were a part of him, therefore they were beautiful, too. they weren't something you had to overlook to find him captivating, but you'd tell him all about that at another time.
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iamasimperyk · 7 months
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Can professor rafe be a series of fics I love it ! It’s gotta be my favorite image him being jealous and he doesn’t give you the time a day since they fucked and he sees guys approaching y/n even getting turned on by her since she’s a flirt when she talks but doesn’t notice and rafe gets jealous and tells y/n to stay but she’s like mmm no thanks because now rafe gonna be the one having to go after her if he wants her
Thank you so much for your request💕 I already thought about making this into a series or at least write more one shots for this trope. So, if you have more ideas tell me all of them🤭I hope you like what I have made out of your request!
Regrets
Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of sex, Mention of sexual acts, Angst, Fluff, Not proof-read, English is not my first language
Pairing: Professor!Rafe x Fem!Reader
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How could you have been so stupid? Of course, Rafe ignored you since your last encounter, just like last time. Even if your crush on Rafe was big, you didn't want to be his fuck toy just for him to use whenever he wanted.
You started to ignore Rafe the same way he ignored you. During lectures, you focused and ran out of the classroom as quickly as possible when it was over.
You started to attend more parties and got to know some people—mostly boys. They desperately tried to get your attention, but you were too nice and pure to even notice. For you, they were nothing but nice and chill.
"Come on, give it back to me." You giggled, jumping up and down to snatch your book out of Lucas' hand.
You met Lucas and his friends at a party, and ever since then, you have been a part of their friend group.
"Mmm, Y/n/n, I think you are too short." He snickered and held your book up a little bit higher than before."
"Not true. Not everyone can be a giant like you." You tried to jump higher, your skirt rising up more, almost exposing your panties.
Lucas handed you the book and sat down before he pulled you onto his lap.
"Ey, she already sat on your lap this morning," Nick, another one of the group, spoke up.
"It's my turn. I couldn't even bring Y/n/n to one of her lectures today." A third one answered.
Before anyone else could say something you decided to speak up, "Boys, it's okay, there is enough for everyone."
You couldn't help but giggle. Everything was nothing but a big joke to you, and in your opinion, the boys were just acting silly.
-------
Rafe felt pure anger when he saw how close you got to those boys. He couldn't believe you were too dumb to notice how whipped all of them were for you. They wanted to get in your pants, and you didn't even notice, always wearing those short little skirts and giggling like a bimbo.
But why would he care? He had a wife and a child. Whatever the two of you had was meaningless. Right?
At least, that was what he tried to tell himself, but the truth was, he was jealous. He never had been more jealous in his entire life. He had to have you.
"Ms. Y/l/n, please see me in my office in 5 minutes." He said in a strict tone as he walked past the group of friends.
------
"What does Cameron want?" Liam, another boy, asked curious.
You just shrugged and stood up, taking your bag, "I have no idea. I will see you guys later."
You waved them goodbye before you made your way over to Rafe's office.
After you knocked, Rafe was quick to open the door and locked it after you entered.
"What do you want?" You asked a little annoyed.
"Who are your new friends?" Rafe rolled his eyes, sitting down in his leather chair.
You let out a little sigh, "I don't think that's any of your concern."
"Oh, but it is. You see, I thought things through. I want you, Y/n." Rafe admitted, looking straight into her eyes.
You let out a little laugh, "I wanted you too, but you fucked me, and then you ignored me, and then you did other sexual things with me, and then you ignored me again."
"I am sorry. What do you want me to say?" He raised his voice a little.
"You have a family. I suggest you live your life, and I will live mine," You mumbled, "I will see you tomorrow, Mr. Cameron."
You left the room, and a little tear ran down your cheek, which you wiped away quickly.
For the first time, you were the one to leave Rafe, and to be honest, it felt good.
------
Rafe was shocked. His whole life, Rafe had always got what he wanted. This was the first time someone rejected him. He had to make a decision— you or his family. But deep down, Rafe already knew who he was going to pick.
That was how Rafe found himself in front of your dorm at 3. a.m.
You opened the door, letting out a yawn, "It's 3 o'clock what is so-" You immediately stopped talking when you saw who stood in front of you.
"Hi," He scratched the back of his head, "I am really sorry, Y/n. Please let me explain everything."
You wanted nothing more than to be angry but had always been a person to forgive easily.
"I hope your explanation is good enough to prevent me from sleeping." You mumble and let him in, glad your roommate slept at her boyfriend's.
"Oh, and I brought you some chocolate." He smiled a little, holding out the bag.
"I hate chocolate," You told him, sitting down on your bed, "Did you make sure no one saw you?"
He nodded, setting the back down with a sigh, "As I said, I am sorry how I treated you."
"Yeah, you already told me that a few times." You crossed your arms in front of your chest.
"My marriage has not been easy the past years. When I saw you for the first time, I immediately knew I had to have you. But it was wrong in so many ways, the age gap, the fact that I have a wife and a child." He started, sitting down on the bed as well.
"After I fucked you, it didn't know what to do anymore. I cheated on my wife, but I didn't regret it. I tried to ignore you, don't ask me why, maybe I was scared or just stupid, I don't know. Then you teased me during lecture, and I lost control over myself once again."
"That doesn't explain why you are here." You interrupted, fiddling with your fingers.
"I know, princess. After I saw you with those boys, I knew you wouldn't wait forever. I had to make a decision between you and a marriage I wasn't happy in. Y/n, I feel young with you, free, happy. It's risky and won't be easy but I want you." He cupped your cheeks.
You stared at him with wide eyes, "Oh my god. I destroyed your marriage."
Rafe quickly shook his head, "No, love. You just helped me do something I should have done a long time ago."
"But your child-" He interrupted you, "She would like you."
You had no words. Rafe wanted to be with you, for real this time.
"How do I know you won't ignore me once again tomorrow?" You asked, looking into his blue eyes.
"I guess you have to trust me one last time." He mumbled before he leaned in to kiss you.
"One last time, Rafe." You answered and closed the gap between the two of you.
After you pulled away, you smiled at him, "It's Saturday, can you stay with me?"
He nodded, "Of course, princess."
"And, Rafe?"
"Yes?"
"Could you pass me the chocolate?"
Rafe let out a chuckle. Of course.
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ghostfacesvalentine · 4 months
Text
You’re no good for me - Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader
Pairing: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Slight itsy angst/kinda unrequited love/loneliness
Type: One shot/Blurb
Request: the fake relationship trope w Patrick bateman needs to be a fic RIGHT NOW 😩😩
Word Count: N/A
Prompt: Based off the song “Diet Mountain Dew” / Fake relationship trope
Notes: This started off so Lana coded, but it did finish abruptly since it’s kinda like a tiny one shot/blurb. I just wanted to write something. Let me know what you think! No I didn’t proofread are you nuts
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Word got around fast about the breakup between Patrick and his fiancée. Not that it was anything tragic to either party, but appearances were everything.
A playboy like Patrick was hard to keep up with, of course you made your attempts, gathering outfits that flattered you, experimenting with different styles of hair and makeup in hopes that you’d find your niche.
More like find Patrick Batemans time of day.
You weren’t even sure if they had finished splitting up by the time he approached you, one Thursday afternoon. Nothing about his character was subtle, not in the way he talked at least.
“Y/N. I have a proposition for you.” His attention catching you off guard.
He always spoke in a matter of fact, especially with you, never in a rude way, just maybe overtly confident. Whatever it was, always made you feel weak in the knees.
You daydreamed about him shamelessly, the way his lips curved into a tight smile after his sentences, the manner in which the air surrounding him gave a vague smell of his cologne. Patrick was used to the prolonged looks, but there seemed to be a sincerity in your eyes.
Patrick was talking but you weren’t listening, instead your eyes adapted to the shape of his jaw, the glistening cheekbones, all carved by his slick back hair and gently brushed eyebrows.
“Y/N” He prayed out loud.
Your dreaming cut short, now looking at him in an embarrassing manner. “Sorry.” You mumbled out, eyes dropping down to his glossy shoes then away towards the floor to ceiling windows.
“Could you do that for me? I’ll pay you for any inconvenience that comes with it.”
It was only then when you realized how much you really weren’t listening. Your eyes then braved enough to look at his own, chocolate delicacies that mirrored nothing. Patrick was handsome, there was absolutely no doubt about that, yet he never emitted any warmth, even as the back of his hand reached to trickle along the curve of your cheek.
“Yeah, of course, uhm. What do you need exactly?” You feigned the urge for clarification.
“Dinner. I need you to pretend we’re seeing one another. Again, if it’s not something that you’re interested in-“
You cut him off almost too quickly. “I’m there.”
And you were.
Both propped up in a two person table at the most exclusive restaurant in the city.
You weren’t sure if it was the booze or the simple privilege to have Patrick’s eyes on you, even if it was a little white lie. You didn’t have to fake much and you tried to push the idea of Patrick feigning his interest in you.
There were eyes on you both, of course there was snarky comments of rebounds and those wondering out loud if you were the reason his engagement was no more.
Patrick relished in the moment, the gossip definitely boosted his ego, too much for his own good. You, however, were just happy to hold his cold hand in public.
You didn’t have to fake much, you watched him in the most endearing way and though you weren’t old money, you gave Patrick the upper advantage of having your full attention on him when his business friends couldn’t pay anyone enough to keep their eyes on them.
Something about the attention you devoted to him openly only made him more desirable. You almost didn’t care for the bottle service he ordered for you both, nor the tasty delicacies that petrified his diet.
This somber ask of his made you feel like the stars were aligning for you and you were enticed to keep up with the facade.
It quickly became a habit, date night once every Friday became every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Then he would make sure those who had interested thoughts, would see you leave his apartment or him leave yours.
You never did anything other than “enjoy” each others presence. Mainly hearing about his day, drinking some of whatever he had, but mainly listening to his rambles about how he viewed those around him.
As the weeks morphed into months, the kisses you were over the moon to give him while his past interests were watching, now became more painful than before. You never took any money from him, much to his offense, yet he always made sure to give you the best time he could offer you.
Sometimes he would go the extra step to send you flowers, all to “keep up with appearances” but when you crawled into your cool and oversized bed on your own, reality would struck your heart.
You spent too many nights curled up in the corner of your bed while you knew Patrick was delightful to stick to his bachelor routine.
Much to his dismay, you started to get sloppy with your actions. It was a few months into your lie that your eyes began to wander. It started with the longing, seeing other couples who seemed genuinely interested with one another, sharing casual touches and warm feelings.
The ache had you thinking about the men who appeared affectionate, your eyes lingered longer than Patrick had been used to.
Clearing his throat caught your attention again, a fake smile crossed your face. “Of course, whatever you say.”
It was not the response he was looking for and it didn’t take long for him to see what caught your eye. “Really Y/N? He hasn’t made half of what he made last month, I have no idea what he’s doing here. Enjoying what he has left while he can I guess.” A malicious laugh spurred across the table from Patrick.
This time it came with an unsure gaze, worried that someone would be better than him.
“Hm?” You replied nonchalantly.
“Oh yeah. I know.” You soothed, your hand no longer reached for him, rather than to trace the curves of your fork.
You didn’t intend to make him feel small, but if you were being honest, his lack of interest in you began to mirror you. He was still as gorgeous as ever, yet when the doors were closed, it was hard to not long for a man who would kiss you when no one was looking.
Patrick didn’t understand what was happening, he didn’t understand why you were starting to decline in your part of the deal. He found himself competing more aggressively this time with those in the environment again, in this case, for your eyes.
You excused yourself to the bathroom, for the first time, you wanted to go home early. You didn’t even have to use the bathroom, you just wanted some space from him.
A hand latched onto your forearm, halting you from the entrance to the hallway where the bathrooms were. You looked back to see a handsome man in a white button up with a rag hanging from his side pocket. A glistening smile greeted your confused face “Hey, I’m sorry I just wanted to let you know that dress really brings out your eyes”
Before you could respond, you watched as he was gripped by the shirt and shoved to the side away from your sight. You tried to look for the waiter before you felt a frigid hand pull you by the wrist towards the entrance.
Your shoulders relaxed when you noticed it was the familiar figure of Patrick. He was furious.
“Y/N. I’m sorry- I was under the impression that we had an agreement.” He scolded as he let your wrist go when you made it to the sidewalk beside him.
You watched him blankly as he appeared to throw his tantrum. “Nothing even happened Patrick. You already made your point with your friends, I can’t keep up with this. I want to have my own person. My real person. I don’t want to scare others off because I have to pretend to have something going on with you.” You breathed out what was weighing heavy on your chest.
He almost couldn’t believe how you felt. He didn’t even know how to decipher what he felt. Deep down he knew what you meant, yet he didn’t care enough to let you go easy. “If you couldn’t do it in the first place, you shouldn’t have agreed.” He scolded again, roughly running his hands through his slicked back locks desperately.
“Well I don’t want to do it anymore.” You admitted. Patrick stared right through your eyes lacking of any expression. He’s never had to decipher his own feelings, how the hell could he figure out that what he was feeling was jealousy?
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vvluvmai · 15 days
Text
𝑭𝑺𝑴 ✩ 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑵
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(adj.) feeling sad and lonely because of unrequited love
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warn. Fem reader, ooc kaiser?, angst w/o comfort
sum. Years and years went by, the prideful man kept his secrets to himself, his most troubling one being love, love he had for his best friend since childhood. And to see her with another man, laughing and hugging, on the day he had built up enough courage to apologise and maybe even confess to the very person he had been in love and loving in secret for many years, it shattered whatever hope he had been holding onto for years. For the boy cried himself to sleep that day, and everytime his mind so cruelly reminds him of that fateful day.
char. Micheal Kaiser.
cw. This was written way before kaiser’s backstory was revealed but I tried putting in elements of kaiser's personality and updated it a lil, and also, my writing has gotten rusty after MONTHS of not writing so pls 🐻 with me <3 rushed(?), ooc, kinda cringe, drabble.
an. This is a pretty short drabble, lemme know if yall would like me into a bigger more clarified fic!!
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ☃︎⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Michael was your typical highschool popular asshole. Even to his friends, he'd throw them under the bus just for shits and giggles. But yet, he had the tiniest of a soft side for his best friend, one who he.. at least treated as a human being. You'd always listen to him, his troubles, his gossip, hell, even about the most incoherent rants he blabbered out whenever he drank too much. He was much like his dad; a drunken, sentimental asshole.
Even at his most vulnerable moments such as..being drunk, his mind still somehow managed to keep a thick, strong wall protecting him against the judging hearts of others no matter how much he trusted or felt comfortable with them. Yet he felt comfortable in your arms when he angrily or stupidly rant about whatever bothered his mind, and at his worst, he'd cry in your arms completely unresponsive. Which has only happened once, an incident he swears never happened and continues to gaslight you into thinking it truly never happened.
Michael has always despised crying, growing up with both his mother and father belittling him whenever he cried because of the scoldings and punishments he gets for being what most would call a ‘problem child'.
And as a result of this, he'd always suck up his tears no matter how blurry his eyes get or no matter how much his eyes burn, never making a single decibel of sound no matter how much he felt like he needed to sob and bawl even when there's that mind numbing feeling of barbed wires tightening around his neck and digging into his body and killing every need to run and run far away.
Even if no one was around, he'd just simply let the tears fall, his body still as a rock and not making a sound. But he liked it this way. This way, no one would know that he was nothing more than a ‘schwache Heulsuse’. This way, no one would see those crystal tears that dared to run away from his eyes and thus, no one would be able to call him a ‘Weichei’ or ‘Rückgratlose Scheiße’ as his parents did. And to most, he'd seen like he's sleeping if it weren't for the tight grip of his pillow and the constant scratching of his arms to distract him from the pain that clouded his heart emotionally.
Michael's sarcastic and narcissistic personality was yet another result of his childhood and the constant drowning out whatever negative thoughts came to cloud his mind; hurling insults and gossiping helped keep his mind off what he'd have to endure at home. Constantly taunting, teasing, poking fun no matter who it was. But when it came to you, oh, you, people would die from shock to see how he was with you behind closed doors. A smile so genuine and soft, laughs so happy and beautiful and the way the corners of his eyes would crinkle and pupils shine when he was with you, timeless and worth admiring.
If only he'd let go of that habit of his, pushing others away when got too close to his heart. And maybe then, he'd have you with him, smiling and laughing the same way he did when he was with you.
Well, highschool has passed. And now he was at blue lock, fighting for his life, rendering his enemies to mere shame to fill that disgusting—as he called it—aching void in his chest. The victory of defeating his opponents were always short lived, 5 seconds of the feeling of glory that vanished as fast as it came, but for cameras he maintained that smug, proud and confident face in hopes that maybe one day, the unrequited love of his life would leave her boyfriend for him.
He knew it was a shitty thought, the most pathetic and the most low he'll ever stoop to. But he couldn't care anymore, for someone who has gotten everything he ever wished for, this was that one thing that seemed so far away and ever so fleeting. Ah, if only he was more trusting. If only his arrogant and ignorant self could've let down the walls he built to keep the judgement of others at bay, so that he could be himself with the only person who actually cared.
He got everything he wanted, but not what he needed.
And now he had to face the mistakes of his way haunting him whenever he went out to clear his mind. Even then, she'd never leave him be. Her, so stubborn, that even now she refused to abandon him like all the others. Even if she was gone physically, she was still there in his mind constantly. His whole body tormented him, his eyes faking the illusions of her, his mind constantly bringing up the moments of comfort, laughter and banter he had with her. And the painful, disgusting, torturous moments where he made her cry, arguments, disagreements and shouting. And that one specific moment where his life had ended, when his life decided to walk far away from him was the moment that still kept him company, physically reminding him of what he had lost.
And now, his life was back to haunt him again. This time, it was no trick orchestrated by his eyes and mind to taunt him again, this time, it was real and he could swear on his bloodline.
The fashion he wore ever so immaculately, designed to flaunt his wealth, power and 'confidence', had people turning their heads in a whiplash. Michael looked around, looking for a store to waste money on and in the midst of his search, but his eyes caught a familiar face laughing.
Eyes widening in quick realisation as he kept walking forward that it was her, (name). The tiniest of smiles graced his face, little hopes clinging to his heart that he could fix what he broke months ago. But soon enough, all little hopes washed away like the shore when his eyes saw that (name) as clinging on to the arm of another man as they both waited for the red light to go green. Smiling, laughing and gleeful. Never had she looked this at peace, this joyful with him and it served fuel to the growing angering pit in his stomach. A pit of fury, hatred, anxiety and hurt all directed to none other than himself, for he knew that he was at fault.
Hidden in the bustling crowds, kaiser stood quietly. Face blank except for the way his eyes had seemed a little more dull than usual, mind full. His eyes blankly watched the red go green, and the standing couple walk.
Again, he watched his life woke away from him. And again, he was reminded,
He had everything he wanted, but not everything he needed.
𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 —
Rückgratlose Scheiße - Spineless shit
Schwache Heulsuse - weak crybaby
Weichei - wimp
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copyright © @vvluvmai
Thank you so much to all my clouds for waiting for so long, I'm not dead, I'm just dealing with abit IRL <33
tags: @kaiserkisser
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dadsbongos · 2 months
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Hi! I was wondering if u write fic requests on minor characters? Holm from Dungeon Meshi is my fave character and it's saddening that there are only a few contents about him T^T (tho its understandable since he's, well, a minor character)
If it's okay w you, I wanna request a Holm x reader scenario where Holm introduces reader to his party as his partner, and everyone is suprised because they didn't expect a laid-back guy like him to be in a serious relationship with someone!
aaaa sorry if it's a bit short and bland I just want some fluffy imagines with the cute lil gnome ;-;
as long as i feel confident enough in my characterization of a character i'm more than happy to tackle minor characters!
holm is a lil cutie patootie so i get it anon
586 words / warnings - not super proofread ~~~
“Congratulations, big guy!” Mickbell claps Holm on the back, earning a startled flinch from the gnome.
“Thank you…” Holm sighs, choosing to ignore the rough jostling, “So as I saying, I finally bought a house. I’d really appreciate it if you all could come to dinner to celebrate.”
Daya scratches the back of her neck, lips pursing thoughtfully, “Can I bring my fiance?”
“Sure! It’ll be a great time for you all to finally meet my spouse as well.”
Kabru is first to respond, a despondent, broken, “wh-what…?” croaking out.
“You’re married?” Rin mutters, covering her twitchy mouth with a gloved hand and brows furrowing. If none of them knew her, they might think she was disgusted by the information.
Holm nods, “I never found the right time to bring it up, but now is perfect!”
“Married…” Kabru’s horrified, he had zero idea Holm was a taken man -- and he’d been meeting with the gnome’s sister often! Did she have no clue either? They weren’t the closest siblings, after all…
“See you all for dinner then?” Holm bypasses the man’s internal struggle completely.
Rin, still with elation masked as indignation, nods rapidly, “We’ll be there!”
… 
“Married,” Kabru’s still pouting by the time he and Rin arrive at Holm’s new residence, “And I had no clue…”
“He hardly minds,” Rin rolls her eyes, a kinder lilt overtaking her tone, “Besides, nobody else knew.”
Sighing wistfully, Kabru doesn’t expect her to understand, only continuing to mope.
“You’re probably the only one who brought a gift, so at least take that as a win,” Rin grumbles, annoyed by his angst, and knocks on the door.
Holm is not who greets them at the door, but rather a total stranger who already knows their names, “You must be Rin and Kabru! Welcome in, I’m glad you both could make it!”
Kabru’s terror only increases at the realization you know him by description, and he cannot even guess as to what your name is.
“I should die…” he whispers.
“Huh?” your eyes widen.
“Kabru! Rin!” Holm saddles up beside you, a hand finding the base of your spine while the other outstretches to accept his leader’s cradled gift, “You didn’t have to bring anything!”
“I would’ve felt terrible,” Kabru shakes his head, smile soft yet disarming.
You take it that you must’ve just misheard the nice man, then…
“You know,” Mickbell calls from where he’s lounging in Kuro’s lap on your couch, “I never would’ve taken you as the type for a serious relationship.”
Daya has half a mind to whack the man, and she probably would have if her own fiance hadn’t barked a laugh in approval. Instead, she swats him in the chest with a quiet grumble to be nice.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” if it weren’t for his gentle face, one could take the question as offended.
“You’re too laid-back…” Kuro huffs agreement to Mickbell’s point, “I would’ve thought a married man is more intense.”
“I don’t think that’s necessarily true,” Holm thankfully takes the jab with humor, “I’m seventy-six, not forty.”
“Imagine if you were?” you laugh.
“Nightmare, I’d be about you,” Holm chuckles.
“Oh, but it’d be flattering!”
“I was too immature.”
Mickbell scoffs, “Stupid long-living gnome and his stupid happy marriage.”
This time, Daya does smack the half-foot.
Meanwhile, Kabru is viciously examining yours and Holm’s body language and Rin is trying to psychically tell him to be normal.
“Your party’s very interesting…” you murmur to your husband.
“They’re just excited to be here.”
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nvuy · 3 months
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would u ever write jy w/ a reader who was a part of the high cloud quintet? ig u would say sextet here (insert sex joke) but just curious!!!
i would, maybe. i have this idea of a very short fic bordering on less than 10 chapters if possible surrounding the idea, though.
like something to do with lan, how they pierced the sky, and you are a piece of it that holds the skies together for the xianzhou. something like that.
it would be unbridled angst because i can. this post is so fucking long sorry. i definitely don’t have problems…
i think what would hurt the most is that jingliu would’ve accepted you into the hcq had you been able to join them.
something something, you wanted to stay, but if you remained here, the sky wouldn’t be able to hold itself together anymore, and the stars would fall, and the xianzhou would perish. so, you return to the sky, and hold it together, because that’s what you are: a fragment of the stars.
you definitely knew them all.
yingxing crafted you a weapon on the basis that maybe if he finished it, you’d return. dan feng would be so so happy to see you again, with that pleasant little smile he always wore (and sometimes if he thinks it’s appropriate he’ll let you examine his tail).
you did not return. not in his lifetime, at least.
jingliu would’ve trained you in the art of the sword. not to the extent of jing yuan, but enough to put up a decent fight. so, if none of them were there to help you, at least you could help yourself.
baiheng would’ve been like the fun aunt, to be honest. always up for a good chat, telling you stories about her travels across the galaxy. throws in a little “don’t tell jingliu, but i think you’d be better at archery, than swordsmanship.”
and jing yuan, oh boy. you two would always sneak away and talk and lie together and be idiots. he’s young, only barely creeping towards one hundred, but so are you, and he brings you to places he loves to show them to you.
there’s one particular spot he loves more than the rest.
there’s a little path in an abandoned stretch of trees towards the edge of the luofu ship. the path is barely visible amidst the tall grass, but jing yuan shows you through every step of the way until you both come into a clearing. it’s a field of flowers. private, closed off, with enough sunlight to keep the area warm. and it’s beautiful.
if you die, jing yuan buries you there. he also buries what remained of baiheng, and carves yingxing, jingliu, and dan feng’s names into headstones as a memoir of the past.
if you do return, for whatever reason it may be, it has been centuries. centuries are long enough to forget, as everything yields to time. wherever you have been, it has been long enough to forget.
returning is odd. the xianzhou luofu has changed, as have the other ships. you’re not sure how long it has been, and you’re not sure why you’re trekking this particular path. it feels familiar, and you have the faintest notion that there is supposed to be someone at the end of wherever this path leads.
who it is, you’re not sure. perhaps, if they are there, they can provide you an answer. maybe they can even tell you who you are, and what purpose you serve, other than to keep the sky together.
jing yuan never changed this area. not only was it his favourite, but he, as well as his old friends, had clung to the idea that you would return eventually.
if he changed it, jing yuan feared you’d forget even more than you already had. so, he kept it the same.
at the end of the path, for your first return is not a person. there’s nobody here, but four headstones buried in the grass. you read the names, but there is nothing. you don’t remember these people, but still your heart twists, as if you should have known them.
so, with grief heavy in your heart, you return to the sky.
the next time you return is because you realise you’re forgetting again, though it is one hundred years later. you walk down the same path because it is familiar, expecting to see someone, or something.
you see both. a man, and four headstones. you don’t recognise him, but it must have been the person you’ve sought, for you only had the faintest idea that there should’ve been somebody here. so, it must be him.
you explain to the stranger you feel as though you should recognise him, but you don’t. you also tell him his eyes are like the sunlight in the sky.
to that, he responds that you’ve told him that before. and you have. many, many times and many, many years ago.
jing yuan knows you can’t stay here, but it has been such a long time since he’s seen your face. so, he lets you examine the headstones as you did centuries ago.
he wasn’t there that day. the sky had darkened on the days you first returned, and though jing yuan had an inkling of an idea it had something to do with you, he had been bested by his own mind at the thought that you were gone, and had thus disappeared to grieve by himself.
truly, today, he came to grieve once the sky darkened again. seeing you here was not what he expected.
you ask him questions that visit. about the people beneath the soil—he responds that there aren’t any bodies buried here. baiheng’s body withered, dan feng never truly died, and neither did jingliu or yingxing.
“they all float aimlessly,” he tells you. “baiheng is gone. dan feng has a new identity, and what existed before is lost. jingliu and yingxing’s minds are scattered to the clouds. i cannot say what they will do if you cross paths, or whether they will remember you.”
you ask if you can meet them someday, as perhaps maybe one of them can jog your memory. jing yuan promises it is a possibility, but it is nearing impossible. fate will draw your paths together, he deduces. one day.
so, after a while, he tells you to return to the skies. it hurts, because he wants you to stay. he wants to tell you everything you did together. why you would trek this path, and only this path, and who the headstones were once. but he can’t, and so you return once more.
it is an endless cycle of you returning once you’ve realised you’ve forgotten the man who waits for you at the end of that path. an all too familiar path that seems new, but somewhere, you know you’ve walked along it before. sometimes it is only fifty years, sometimes it is two hundred, but jing yuan ensured that he is always there to greet you.
he tells yanqing of you one day. that’s only because he knows he won’t be around forever. he will be mara-stricken, or perhaps he will be killed in battle, but whatever it is, he tells yanqing, as his retainer and potential successor, to take over this position, and to pass it onto his successor, and then generations will pass.
but, for the moment, each time you return, jing yuan remains. and jing yuan promises you, though he knows you will forget, that when he does inevitably perish, he will find a way to join you in the skies.
dan heng asked him once after learning of you if it is difficult to love someone who you cannot be with.
jing yuan replied it’s easy. and it is easy, because every time the sky shifts from night to day, and the sun rises, and the clouds pass, he knows you’re up there, and you’re safe.
tldr: batty old general jing yuan talks to the clouds sometimes.
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rewh0re · 7 months
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—968 words, angst, death, deep talks about life, cemeteries. yea ig that's it. yea also wrote this at 3 am guys i am mighty sleep deprived
a/n; atp I'm doing everything BUT studying or writing my gojo fic :D (gojo fic someday you'll see the light till then this megumi angst has to compensate for it) REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!!
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megumi can never truly forget that memory.
he remembers clear blue skies and the occasional chirping of birds along with the flapping of their wings. white clouds slowly drifting in the air and dragonflies hovering over the grass. the trees were green and lush, the leaves gently rustling due to the cool breeze which could mean one thing alone—the advent of spring. there was a silence that washed his body with a strange type of peace, a peace he had never quite known, that he had just allowed himself to feel. and there was a presence—you—standing beside him, looking at the unknown grave, head tilted slightly and hands deep in your pockets.
he couldn't help but think—there was so much life bursting amidst a place that housed the dead.
megumi never liked cemeteries. they made him sad, unhappy, gloomy in a way. but you found a certain peace in them. to walk in silence, looking at the many graves—you had said it calmed one's soul. made one think. made one feel grateful for their life.
"it's almost amusing, don't you think?" you had asked, breaking your silence.
"dead people amuse you now?" megumi looked over at you to find you still looking at the grave. how could it ever be amusing to look at a stranger's grave? he swore that sometimes even you didn't understand what you were saying.
"no idiot," you shook your head, a little chuckle bursting out of your throat as your eyes locked with his.
"what i mean is," you sighed "that these people, they were people, like you and me. they had dreams and hopes and aspirations. they worked hard for their passions and hoped to achieve so much through their efforts. isn't it awful how many of these people might never have reached their dreams? their lives cut short as they were snatched away from their own loved ones?"
you ruffled your hair before crossing your arms, "i find it unfair. isn't it unfair? how you never know what will happen? how you, me—all of us—will just become another memory to be forgotten? how we'll just become dust, become one with the earth? our names, just some carvings on some stones and even then—everything will just go on as it is. life will go on. we're just lone stars burning out in the massive universe."
megumi could only look at you. you had that effect on him, rendering him speechless through your words alone. a few seconds passed before he finally found his voice again.
"well," he began, tone laced with a certain gentleness that only showed itself in your presence. "i see it more like the beauty of life. we're here and then we're not. we live and we love and we thrive and we falter. it's the way of life, or the rule of life, whatever you call it. i think that's why we have to make sure we make the most of it. life is unpredictable and that's what makes it so thrilling."
"i think you're right—well—in a way at least. i've learnt to cherish my life. i think with you by my side, i can stand strong and proud and i can live. i'm glad you found me and i found you and i'm glad that we're always by each other's side," you smiled up at him, nudging his shoulder.
"always?"
"always."
wasn't that the promise you made?
it was like looking through a glass window, so vividly was that day's image imprinted on his mind. he wanted to break that glass and take a hold of that memory and relive it again and again and again if it meant he could have you by his side. he definitely would do that if he could.
life is not really beautiful he learnt after he started visiting the cemetery more often. it was cruel, it was ruthless, it filled one with agony and suffering and pain. oh, so much pain.
he never looked at random graves anymore like he did before with you. no, he looked at just one. the name etched on the stone with a few leaves scattered at the base—l/n y/n.
it hurt, it truly did. through you, megumi learnt love and loss, he learnt heartbreak and grief and what it felt like to cry in the middle of the night wishing for you to hold him close and whisper i'm here. you never were though, you wouldn't be there anymore, you wouldn't cradle him and card your fingers softly through his hair or wipe his tears or kiss his worries away. you wouldn't and that was reality and he had to live with that reality.
megumi learnt through you how promises were only made to be broken—knowingly or unknowingly.
but you taught him how to love and to be loved, how to find beauty and peace in the mundane, how to dream big and how to care, to be kind.
he loved you but he had to let you go. alas, you wouldn't want him to be stuck, frozen in a place where darkness loomed and nothing but sheer heartache reigned supreme. maybe it was true that a part of him was gone. maybe it was true that he would never feel truly and completely whole again. but he could swear your ghost would curse at him if he didn't at least try to move forward.
so he laid a bouquet of white carnation at the base of your grave, uttering a silent prayer.
"always." he brought his index and middle finger to his lips and then placed it on the top of the headstone before standing up, burying his hands deep in his coat pockets.
"always." he whispered, letting his words get carried by the air before turning around to walk away.
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etherealyoungk · 1 year
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—⟡ covert desires (teaser)
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summary:  the mission is simple - infiltrate a high-stakes auction that the top leaders, businessmen, women, and politicians of the world attend every year and steal one of the most highly guarded and hidden-away paintings from the target’s collection. the only downside, you had to work with kim mingyu, whom you absolutely hated. and to make it even worse, you had to pretend to be his wife for this mission to work.
pairing: spy!mingyu x assasin!reader (fem!reader)
themes: spy au, mafia, enemies to lovers, fake marriage, mutual pining, spies, angst, fluff, killing
warnings: suggestive, kissing, use of curse words, weapons, guns, knives, violence, use of drugs/painkillers, blood, gore, killing, death
wordcount: 750 words for the teaser (17.8k full fic) link to full fic here!
a/n: i had so much fun writing this! please note that this is purely a work of fiction! 
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i'll be posting the full fic when i hit 3.5k to celebrate! teaser under the cut!
you wipe the last of the blood off your hands and carefully move the body, manipulating the crime scene to make it look like it was a suicide. with a carefully crafted suicide scene, the police wouldn’t even blink an eye and just close the case as a suicide, not wanting to bother investigating further.
you just had to leave around the right clues and bait them. once they’d find it, they’d conclude the case without thinking any further and your job was done. you were sure no one would even miss the bastard that you had just sent to hell anyways. after scanning the room, you make sure everything is in place before exiting quietly and disappearing into the shadows. 
when you reach home to your apartment, you swiftly change out of your soiled and bloody clothes. the idiot decided had put up a fight, making things harder for himself really. you planned on killing him quietly, but the fight he put up was unnecessary and he wasn’t going to stand a chance against you regardless. you would have finished earlier and your clothes would have been significantly less bloody. sighing, you peel off the clothes and they fall to the floor in a heap as you step into the shower. the warm water offers some sort of relief and relaxation, your muscles relaxing under the hot water. wrapping a towel around yourself, you step out and hear the faint ring of your burner phone fill the room.
“hello?”, you say as you put the phone to your ear.
“did you get the job done?”, the voice on the other side asks.
“yes, you didn’t hire the best for no reason, did you?”, you scoff back, offended he’d have a sliver of doubt in your skills. 
“good. we have another urgent matter on hand and it has to be discussed in person. you know where to meet me”, the voice adds.
“i swear if it’s another-“
 “you’ll love this one, trust me”, the voice says, cutting you short and hanging up as you begin to say something. you curse under your breath; that idiot never had manners. you huff,  throwing the phone on the bed, changing into something comfortable before you crash into bed, too tired to complain or think about anything else. 
you were an assassin or a hired killer you could say. but you liked to call yourself an assassin - because let’s be real, it sounds cooler. you were trained, skilled, and good at what you did – which was killing people, bad people specifically. when you weren’t out hunting people down, you were working as a barista at a local cafe. it was somewhat therapeutic compared to your other occupation. but you had to if you wanted to survive in this world. if you wanted your life to have some semblance of normalcy. the world was a cruel place and somehow you ended up doing this for a living but hey, at least it paid well.
the next morning you’re sitting in the hall of seungcheol’s fancy office, or what you liked to call the safehouse. “you’re here! let me tell seungcheol”, dino says upon seeing you, flashing you a friendly smile. you give him a small smile as he retreats, making his way to look for seungcheol.
seungcheol walks in a few moments later, and his presence can be felt in the room immediately. no one messes with him – everyone knew that. he was the most feared man in the underground mafia and a threat to the government as well. his connections and dirt on powerful people ran too deep with secrets only he knew and used as leverage. hell, even the government would hire him to do their dirty work so he was practically untouchable.
“what’s this urgent matter that needs to be discussed in person?”, you ask, once he sits down opposite you.
“no hi?”, he prompts, raising his brow as he looks at you.
“no thank you for yesterday?”, you prod back, challenging him. you were really the only person seungcheol let speak to him like that. he’d pretty much raised you and he didn’t seem to mind, especially since you did most of his dirty work.
“we seem to have gotten ourselves another lucrative mission”, he starts off, treading carefuly with his words. “it’s something worth millions if not billions, so this is a really high-stakes operation.”, he tells, observing you. “and we’re getting paid handsomely for it and so will you if it goes well”, he says.
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