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girlgenius1111 · 7 months ago

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to be worthy.

and impromptu mother's day fic in the sol-verse it's a difficult day. and a weird day. but it's also a day for family, and for people stepping up to take roles they didn't have to. a day for love, really. angst. but also sickeningly fluffy.

You’d never second guessed yourself more than you were in that moment, parked outside the flower shop, watching people enter and exit the building. It was barely 7am, and you had been there for almost a half hour already. Just sitting. Just thinking.

Mother’s day. It hadn’t ever been your favorite day. No matter what you did or bought or made, your mom was never very happy with you. She didn’t want anything you could give to her. She didn’t even really want you around. She wanted Ingrid with her on the day, and she always made that very clear.

This year was obviously… very different. Different because you weren’t speaking to your mother, and you didn’t have to get her anything. You didn’t have to write lies down in a card about how much she meant to you, or buy a gift she’d throw out in a few days anyway. You didn’t have to do any of that; there was no pretending this year, and you weren’t really sure what to feel about that.

It was suddenly a day with no obligations, but then again… not really. Because if anyone in the world deserved to be celebrated it was Ingrid, and it was Mapi.

Ingrid was your sister. Mapi was your sister's girlfriend. You knew this. It just felt… inexplicably wrong to let the day pass without acknowledging all they had done for you, all they were doing for you. There was no… older-sister-acting-as-your-parental-figure-day. You were left with this sunday in may, a day that already made your heart ache. Now, you were terribly anxious, too. You didn’t want to overstep, nor did you want to… understep? Too little, too much. Not enough.

Logically, you knew that Ingrid and Mapi would probably be completely fine with anything you chose to get them. You weren’t feeling very logical, though, so you grabbed your phone, and called someone you knew would be.

“Hi älskling,” Frido greeted, suppressing a yawn. It was quite early for her to be answering the phone, but she wasn’t in the business of not answering calls from you. If you were calling, it was important.

“Frido, does Ingrid like flowers?” You asked, nervously cracking your knuckles.

“Flowers? Everyone likes flowers, Solstråle. Why?”

“I just… I wanted to get her and Mapi something, and I don’t know what to get. I don’t want it to be too much or too little, or ugly or stupid or something they don’t like and I don’t want to make them uncomfortable but-”

The words rushed out of your mouth like someone had turned on a faucet, and Frido sighed, now understanding what you were so stressed about.

“Hey, Solstråle, relax.” She interrupted. “Flowers are good. Ingrid likes daisies I think. And Mapi loves pink roses. It’s not weird, it’s not too much, or too little. They’ll be happy with anything, really. Don’t overthink it.”

“Right. Okay. Daisies and pink roses. I can do that.”

“I know today isn’t the easiest for you, but just try to remember-”

“I have to go Frido, sorry. Thank you, I appreciate you.” You said quickly, not really wanting to get into that at the moment. The Swede sighed, hoping you’d relax a bit as the day went on, and as you got a good reaction to your gift.

------

Dropping the flowers off at home, along with the cards you’d gotten, and fleeing hadn’t been your best idea in retrospect. The idea of being with them… when they say what you’d gotten for them and when they read their cards… was nauseating. Sickening. Horrifying. You wouldn’t be doing that.

You set everything up on the counter, grabbed Scout’s leash and Scout himself, and headed out the door, intending to spend the morning at a cafe just down the street. You had your computer and some school work to finish, which seemed like as good of a distraction as any.

Back home, Ingrid was lying awake in her bed, as she had been for a few hours. It was only when Mapi rolled over into her, her head clunking against Ingrid’s shoulder, that the Norwegian realized it was probably past time to get up.

“Morning.” Mapi grumbled, pressing a kiss to the skin of her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Good morning,” Ingrid replied softly. The single word, dripping with anxiety, was enough for Mapi to lift her head and blink groggily at the other woman.

“Something wrong?” She asked.

“It’s mother’s day.” Ingrid whispered, tears inexplicably clouding her vision. Mapi was sitting up in a flash, pulling the younger woman into her chest. Ingrid nuzzled close to the soft t-shirt Mapi was wearing, inhaling the comforting scent of the woman she loved.

“Mi amor,” Mapi sighed. “I know, it’s a hard one right now. You don’t have to call her, though. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We can cancel lunch with my mom, stay here with Solstråle. We can pretend it isn’t mothers day.”

Ingrid shook her head, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. “No, your mom deserves to be celebrated. We’ll go to lunch. I want to give Solstråle some space today, but I’m worried about her. And I don’t want to call my mom. That would be like… betraying my sister. I don’t want to speak to that woman. She doesn't deserve it.”

“Okay.” Mapi agreed, running her fingers through Ingrid’s thick hair. The Norwegian’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, and she relaxed into her girlfriend once again. “We’ll keep an eye on our Sol, and we’ll be quick at lunch. And you can have as many hugs as you want.”

“Can’t I always?” Ingrid asked with a small smile.

“You have a point.” Mapi chuckled. “I am going to go make you a coffee, be right back.”

With that, she rose from the bed, pressing a quick kiss to Ingrid’s lips, heading for the kitchen. Ingrid stayed in bed, worrying about you and how you’d act today, until she heard Mapi call out for her in a strangely choked voice. She was out of bed within a second, rushing down the hall towards her girlfriend.

“What?! What is it?!” Ingrid shouted, sliding in her socks on the wood floor into the kitchen, looking around frantically.

She saw Mapi first, staring with tears in her eyes at a little card that had the Spaniard’s name on it. She saw the two vases next, sitting precisely in the middle of the counter. One with daisies, one with pink roses. There was a card with Ingrid’s name on it on the counter, too, and it wasn’t hard for Ingrid to connect the dots. Her first concerns were with her girlfriend, though, who’s lip was wobbling dangerously, as she blinked rapidly down at the card in her hand.

“María?” Ingrid murmured. “Baby, are you-?”

Mapi blindly reached a hand out towards Ingrid, a hand that the Norwegian took. Gently, Ingrid rubbed her girlfriend’s back, reading the card over her shoulder when Mapi tilted it slightly in her direction.

María,

It’s mother’s day, and it didn’t feel right to let today go by without telling you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You allowed me into your home without a second thought. You met my stubbornness and hostility with love and kindness, and I will forever be grateful to you for that. You love Ingrid so deeply, and I couldn’t wish for a better partner for my sister. I think I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be as good of a person as you are. I hope you like your flowers, and I hope you know how much you mean to me.

Love, Solstråle.

By the time Ingrid had finished reading, Mapi had turned in her arms, burying her face in the crook of Ingrid’s neck, and was sobbing quietly. They were happy tears, Ingrid realized. Emotional, but happy. Ingrid couldn’t do much but hold Mapi tightly to her, and press kisses into the top of her head.

“She means every word, you know? And she’s right. You are the best person I know, the kindest, the most loving. You deserve the flowers, María.”

That set off another round of tears, bringing a small laugh out of Ingrid, always astounded and impressed by how emotionally… healthy her girlfriend was.

“Damn you Engens. Making me cry.” Mapi huffed, using Ingrid’s shirt to wipe her tears away.

Ingrid took her girlfriend’s face in her hands, carefully kissing her lips. “Because we love you very much.”

“Cut it out, Ingrid.” Mapi complained, though she was smiling shyly. “Open your card, I want you to cry.”

Ingrid laughed, reaching for her own card, though she hesitated before opening it. Mapi had moved to get the coffees going, but turned to glance at Ingrid when she fell silent.

“Open it.” Mapi encouraged, turning away to give Ingrid space to read.

It was another little card, in your big handwriting, a bit longer than Mapi’s. Ingrid took a deep breath, trying to stave off tears before she even started reading.

Ingrid,

Mother’s day is weird now. It kind of always has been, but I’m sure it’s weird for you now, too. I hope today isn’t too difficult for you. You are a lot more to me than a sister. I’ve always looked up to you, always seen you as a role model. And I still feel that way. Now, though, you’ve taken me in and been so patient with me. More patient than I deserve. I feel safe here, with you. For the first time in a really long time. Safe and loved, in a way I had kind of forgotten existed. Ingrid, you changed my life. You saved my life, too. I’ve never felt very worthy of love or care, but it’s so readily available here. And if someone as good as you thinks that I am worthy of your love, your time, your attention, then I must be. At least a little bit. There aren’t enough flowers in the world to express how thankful I am for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you Ingrid. Really, just thank you. I love you very much, even if I don’t always show it or say it.

Love, Solstråle.

And now Ingrid was crying, and Mapi was abandoning the coffee to pull her into a tight hug, and you were walking in through the front door at just the perfect time. You had just barely unclipped Scout’s harness before you were being forcibly pulled upright into some kind of suffocating group hug.

And normally, something like this would have probably made you uncomfortable. You felt yourself melting into the hug, though, before you really knew what you were doing. Embarrassment flooded you. Regret flooded you. Because even though the hug was nice, you felt dangerously exposed. Dangerously vulnerable.

------

You insisted that Ingrid and Mapi go to lunch with Mapi’s parents and her brother, without you. Both girls tried to explain, while respecting your privacy as much as possible, why you had stayed home, although Mapi’s mother was rather insistent that she wanted you at lunch, too. You were part of the family, after all.

It was only when you were home alone, curled up on the couch with Scout, that the reality really hit, that questions you didn’t want to consider really started to flood into your brain.

Had they really liked the flowers? The cards? There wasn’t much time to talk, as they’d had to get ready for lunch, and both of them had clearly been crying. Maybe… maybe they didn’t really like what you had to say? Maybe you were putting pressure on them to be something they weren’t. It was so easy for you to spiral into self doubt when you were left to your own devices.

Should you have called your mom?

No matter how much time passed. No matter how many times Ingrid and Mapi told you that you hadn’t done anything wrong, that she had been the issue. You were pretty sure you’d always blame yourself, at least a little. You’d spent so long thinking you were at fault, and that kind of thinking was hard to break out of. Knowing that you weren’t to blame, and really believing it were two different things. And something was easier about blaming yourself. Safer.

Maybe you should have called. Maybe you should take the first step. She was your mother, after all, and you only had one. You couldn’t help the guilt that began to suffocate you, the insecurity, the self hatred.

You wished you could just hear Ingrid and Mapi tell you that they loved you, that you were a good person, and believe it. You were kind of afraid, though, that you’d never fully believe that.

The best thing to do, the most logical thing, was to shut yourself in your room for the rest of the day. So you took Scout and some snacks and buried yourself under as many blankets as you could, tucked away in your room. A closed door between you, and the avalanche of emotions and feelings you’d let out earlier in your cards.

Too vulnerable. You’d been too vulnerable, and there was no taking it back, and that was terrifying. Being vulnerable in the first place wasn’t easy, but not wanting to die afterwards was even harder.

-------

Ingrid and Mapi returned from lunch to find the house dead silent. Your bedroom door was tightly shut, and when Ingrid peaked her head in, you had been pretending to be asleep. So, she headed for the living room, tucking herself into the corner of the couch, thought after thought running through her head.

Had she been too emotional with you earlier? Had you not really meant what you’d said in your letter? Were you just trying to be nice? Ingrid had learned not to push you before you were ready for something, and she felt like today, she had. She should have played it cooler, not made it as big of a deal.

And, fuck, she should have called her mom.

She shouldn’t have, but she should have, and there was no correct answer in her head. Either decision made her feel like she was being bad. A bad daughter or a bad sister.

And now she was being a bad girlfriend, because Mapi had been trying to get her attention for several minutes, and she’d been too spaced out to notice.

“Ingrid!” Mapi said again, this time reaching out to grab onto her girlfriend’s hand and squeezing.

“Sorry, sorry. I was distracted.” Ingrid said. “What?”

“I checked on Sol. She seems upset. You should go up there and talk to her.”

“No, no, today has been a lot for her, she has to process her emotions.” Ingrid said, shaking her head. “She doesn’t want to see me right now.”

Mapi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Honestly. The two of you were both hyper aware of the others’ feelings while simultaneously being too afraid to actually talk about said feelings. You needed each other, today, and Mapi was done trying to get you to figure that out yourselves.

“Enough of this. Vamos.” She stated decisively, standing up from the couch, grabbing Ingrid’s hand and pulling. Ingrid groaned her annoyance, but went somewhat willingly.

Mapi dragged her up the stairs, knocking on your door before entering upon your response. You were still on your bed, trying to hide the evidence of your almost constant tears, when Mapi entered the room with Ingrid in tow.

“Alright. Both of you need the other right now. Sol, Ingrid isn’t mad at you. Ingrid, Sol isn’t mad at you. Everything is fine. Stop overthinking.” And with that, paired with a small shove to Ingrid’s back, pushing the Norwegian in your direction, Mapi looked between you two expectantly.

You looked very cautiously, but also somewhat hopefully, up at your sister.

Ingrid looked at you similarly, taking a hesitant step closer to the bed. “What do you need, Solstråle?” She asked, determined, at least, that you get better about asking for what you needed. If it was space, she'd respect that. And if it was a hug? Well. Good. Because she really needed one too.

You shifted slightly, lifting one of your arms in a half gesture. “Sit with me?” You requested.

Relief flooded Ingrid’s face as she all but launched herself onto the bed next to you, instantly pulling you into a tight hug. You were relieved, too, that you hadn’t been too much for either of them. That your love in return wasn’t too much. Your mom had always made you feel like it was suffocating, the way you tried to get her to pay attention to you and love you.

Ingrid and Mapi never did that. They just… gave you what you needed, without a second thought. Before anything else. As you sat squished in between the two of them, listening to all the details from the lunch you’d skipped, you realized that all you’d needed today was Ingrid. Being with Ingrid and Mapi made your head go quiet. There wasn’t room for doubt when they were on either side of you. Mapi trying ridiculously hard to make you laugh. Ingrid combing her fingers through your hair without a second thought.

You fit here, in this family. With them. They told you you fit, that you were wanted, and that was something that was getting more and more believable as time went on. You had a family, and even if you didn’t really have a mother to celebrate today, you had two people who put you before anything else. People that loved you more than your mother had. You had a family, again. And that was really something to celebrate.

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:) happy mothers day to everyone who celebrates, and to everyone that doesn't.

however you feel is valid. if today is hard, or if today is easy, there will always be tomorrow, and tomorrow will be even better.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #platonic reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #🍓☀️

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parmahamlarrie · 10 months ago

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Welcome back to another post for the directory of fic recs on my blog! If you would like a specific theme or trope, let me know! As always, these are all fics I have read and loved, not all the fics out there. You can find more Omegaverse fics here! **This post will be updated as I have more fics in this theme to recommend!**

Face Your Fears || @sadaveniren || 92.2k Omegaverse, Baker Harry, Famous/Non Famous, Misunderstandings, KidFic, Mpreg, Slowburn, Angst

Violent Delights || @ohpleaselarry || 76k Omegaverse, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Regency, Prince Louis, Prince Harry, Rapunzel-Esque

The Cottage || @holdingontochaos || 70.6k ** Omegaverse, Strangers to Lovers, Small Towns, Artist Louis, Farmer Harry, Sick Louis, Touch Deprivation, Neighbours, Soulmate AU

Seeing Blind || zedi || 46.7k Omegaverse, Rut Bar, Blind Louis, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry

picking up the pieces || @falsegoodnight || 37.6k Omegaverse, Childhood Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Fake Relationship, High School Reunions

Follow Your Arrow || @ladyaj-13 || 36.2k Omegaverse, Pack Dynamics, Canon Divergent, Touch Deprivation

Sometimes You Just Know || @2tiedships2 || 33.8k Omegaverse, Soulmates, Exes to Lovers, Nesting

Blush || @dip-lou-in-honey || 33.4k Historical AU, Omegaverse, Period Typical Sexism

Leave Your Mark On Me || @kingsofeverything || 32k Omegaverse, Restaurant AU, Fake Bonds, Enemies to Friends to Lovers

An Alpha For Christmas || IceQueenRia || 28.1k Christmas, A/B/O, Fake Relationship, Neighbour AU

never been a fan of change, but we're still the same || @onlythebravest || 27.1k Omegaverse, Friends to Lovers, College AU, Hurt/Comfort, Drops, Nesting

only guilty of loving you || sweetrevenge || 22.1k Omegaverse, Scents, You’ve Got Mail AU

Pretty in Pink || lovelarry10 || 18.8k Omegaverse, Alpha Harry. Omega Louis, Feminine Harry, Friends to Lovers

Empty Nest || @littleroverlouis || 16.4k Omegaverse, Mpreg, Nesting, Established Relationship, Fluff

Prince Harry and the Expert in Motorcycle Maintenance || @juliusschmidt || 15.9k Omegaverse, Crack, Royalty, Cinderella Story

balance between you and me || @beckydoesthings || 15.2k Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Businessmen, Courting Rituals

The Checkout || @silverstuff50 || 12.2k ** Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Awkward Flirting, Fluff

Smells Like Omega Spirit || @lululawrence || 11.7k Omegaverse, Misunderstandings, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Scene Neutralizers

you're the one that I'm dreamin' of (you're the one that I love) || @suckerforhome || 11.7k ** Omegaverse, Non-Traditional Dynamics, Famous/Non Famous, Musician Harry, Make Up Artist Louis, Exes to Lovers (ish)

Stumbling Into Your Arms ABO verse || @sunshineandthemoonlight || 11.3k - 2 parts Omegaverse, College AU, Train AU, Fluff

Where Do We Go Now || @jaerie || 10.6k ** Omegaverse, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, College Au, Roommates to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Human World

Enter the Rose Garden || @angelichl || 10.3k Omegaverse, Friends to Lovers, Soft Heat, Pining

Half a World Away || @silverstuff50 || 9.8k ** Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Enemies/Friends to Lovers, Heat, Hiking

14 Days of Valentine’s || @stylesthebrave || 9.3k Omegaverse, Omega Harry, Alpha Louis, Established Relationship, Courting

a body wishes to be held & held || turnyourankle || 9.1k Omegaverse, Coworkers to Lovers, Pining, Heat/Rut

The Coach Tommo Universe || @enchantedlandcoffee || 8.8k Omegaverse, Kid Fic, Fluff and Smut, Bakery Owner Harry

I’d Walk Through Fire For You (Just Let Me Adore You) || @neondiamond || 8.3k Omegaverse, Friends to Lovers, Firefighter Louis

There With Open Arms || @cupcakentea || 7.6k Omegaverse, Beta Louis, Omega Harry, Dropping

Dance With Your demons || @pocketsunshineharry || 6.7k Omegaverse, Established Relationship, Mild Hurt/Comfort

Almost Misheard || @tommokat || 6.5k Omegaverse, Friends to Lovers, Idiots to Lovers

Everything I need, I get from you || @lunarheslwt || 6.4k Omegaverse, Anxious Harry, Established Relationship, Valentine's Day

Something Blue & Someone New || @littleroverlouis || 6.1k Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Courting, Neighbor AU

Take My Hand, Dumbass || @londonfoginacup || 5.9k ** Omegaverse, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Roommates AU, College AU, Enemies to Lovers

Perfect, For Now || @parmahamlarrie || 4.9k Omegaverse, Neighbor AU, New Towns, Touch Starvation, Misunderstandings

Open Up Your Honey Pot || @polaroidlouis || 4.8k Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Frat Boy Louis, Service Top Louis

In an octopus's garden with you || louisismycat || 4.6k ** Omegaverse, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Established Relationship, Autistic Harry, Fluff & Comfort

Feel the Heat Through Your Phone || @larry-hiatus || 4.3k Omegaverse, Established Relationship, Phone Sex, Heat

The Cat that Got the Cream || @suesheroll || 4.2k Omegaverse, Virgin Harry, Friends to Lovers

Wanna Make Your Body Numb || @letthemusicmoveyou28 || 3.8k Omegaverse, Dom/Sub, Club Owner Louis, Established Relationship

Wordplay 2023: there his charming nest doth lay || @bottomhaztoplou || 3.8k ** Omegaverse, Established Relationship, Nesting, Domestic Fluff

I need you right now, baby (won’t you come home?) || @non-binharry || 3.3k Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Heist, Humor

No (Birth) Control || @haztobegood || 2.8k Omegaverse, Omega Harry, Alpha Louis, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Porn with Plot

and it was love at first blush || @bottomhaztoplou || 2.4k Omegaverse, Historical AU, Ballroom Dancing, Courtship, Courting Rituals

Simply the Nest (Better Than All The Rest) || @homosociallyyours || 2.2k Omegaverse, Strangers to Lovers, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Nesting

listen to me, butterfly || wherewestwood || 2.1k Omegaverse, Established Relationship, Canon, Nesting

I Trust You || @neondiamond || 1.8k Established Relationship, Omegaverse, Ace Harry, Omega Harry, Alpha Louis

I’ve secretly always wanted to be yours (and for you to be mine) || @bottomhaztoplou || 1.6k Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Heat/Rut, Older Louis, High School AU

#tracksintheam #trackinghappily #trackinghome #1dsource #fic rec #fic rec list #larry fic rec #my fic rec lists #omegaverse

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blackreaderfics · 1 year ago

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Checking In | Dick Grayson x Black!BatsisReader

↳ Pairing : Dick Grayson x Black!AFAB!BatsisReader

↳ Rating : E (18+ minors dni‼️)

↳ Summary : After your brother Jason’s death, Dick Grayson keeps “checking in” on you. But as far as you’re concerned, he no longer has any right to be a part your life.

↳ W.C : ~5.2k

↳ Tags+Warnings : faux incest - step siblings (direct mentions), mild angst, hate(?)to love, sexual tension, not Titans DC!verse I just like the actor lol, canon divergence: set after Jason Todd’s death and before Red Hood, reader is a model (body type unspecified), referenced stalking, oral (f receiving), P in V sex, degradation (slut, whore), implied daddy kink, porn with plot!, special guest appearance by Booster Gold

“Hot date tonight?”

You felt your eyes roll back into your head at the sound of the male voice that trilled like a mosquito in your ear. Fucking hell, you muttered a curse under your breath. After your shift of late-night vigilante duties, you always seemed to forget to take out your in-ear receiver.

What was that thing Alfred always told you about breathing exercises? You took a deep breath, allowing yourself to quell your irritation. In. 1. 2. 3. Out. 1. 2. 3.

“No action tonight, dick?” You rebutted.

“I can hear when it’s a lowercase ‘D’, Y/N. ” Unlike yours, his voice betrayed no hostility, rather, he sounded quite amused.

You and Dick Grayson had never been close. In fact, you thought of him as more a stranger than a stepbrother. Bruce Wayne had adopted you into the family after Dick had already packed his bags and moved out of the manor to Blüdhaven. The only times you saw Dick was when somebody died and you had to attend the funeral.

You didn’t grow up with him like you had Jason. And now that Jason was gone, it was suddenly like the golden “boy wonder” had been trying to squeeze himself into your life to make up for it. Ever since the detective had arrived in Gotham last week on “private business”— whatever, you didn’t want or care to know—he’d been “checking in” on you a bit too often.

“Are you making small talk ‘cuz you’re bored or are you just being annoying?”

“I’m in the middle of something actually.”

You stilled to listen closely, and now that he mentioned it, it did sound like he was in the middle of a fight.

“Well, I would offer to help you but— ”you paused, wincing at what sounded like a man being punched in the gut. “—seems like you got it covered.”

“More than covered, sweetheart. Unlike what you’re wearing.” He made it sound like he was joking; though, the remark itself had bite.

“What?” What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

“That dress. Seems a little much for a first date don’t you think?”

You heard a yelp of pain in the background. Dick probably had some guy’s arm twisted around.

“How the fuck would you know what I’m wearing? Or that I’m going on a date?”

You eyed the room while putting on the other half of your earrings. The idea of privacy wasn’t exactly a thing at Wayne Manor. That was the whole reason you moved out and into your penthouse apartment in the city.

If for some reason he had seen you, he would’ve seen your figure in a slinky black mini-dress. A tasteful, but still unapologetic show of legs, cocoa skin, and cleavage all in one.

“That guy plastered you on a billboard in the middle of Gotham. So, y’know, doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. And relax, your comms was on. You ever notice that you talk to yourself? Like a lot.”

He was about to be talking to himself if he didn’t shut the fuck up soon.

Ok, breathe. In. 1. 2. 3. Out. 1. 2. 3.

You were violently broken out of your breathing exercise when a screaming welp and cracking of bones sounded through the earpiece.

Dick spoke again, slightly winded. “Bruce say you could wear that?”

“Yes, Dick. Actually, he’s the one that bought it for me,” You deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm. Besides the fact that the old man would not give a flying fuck about your wardrobe, you were way too old to be slutshamed or worse, babysat.

“Now I know you’re fucking with me. He has way better taste than that.” You could hear the mirth in his voice; he was clearly just trying to banter with you.

“Oh like you would know anything about taste, Discowing.”

“…”

You got him there.

“Just make sure—”

“Good night, Richard.” You closed the line before he could give you another lecture and pocketed the listening device into your purse.

You regarded yourself in the mirror one last time. It was a certified banger of an outfit, went quadruple platinum in all the clubs in Gotham’s nightlife scene. But that’s not where you were going tonight.

Feeling a little paranoid, you quickly scanned your apartment for any sign that you’d been bugged. Finding nothing, you shut the lights and locked the door behind you. Tonight you did have a date, with one of Gotham’s most eligible bachelors at that. So you were going to look hot and that annoying buzzing in your ear was just going to have to deal with it.

A sleek Tesla was waiting for you at the curb in front of your apartment building. You gave a small wave to a handsome blonde-haired man leaning against the sports car.

Your date was Michael Carter, some hotshot tech CEO you’d never heard of before until his company, Goldstar Inc. blew up out of nowhere. From what you knew of him he wasn’t as famous or rich as your billionaire adoptive father, but what he lacked in influence, he made up for in boundless persistence.

For the past month and a half, he’d been courting you with bouquets of roses, designer shoes and handbags, and more recently a billboard of you in the middle of Times Square asking you out. The billboard was what made you finally go out with him, not particularly because you liked grandiose gestures from douchebags, but mostly so he could leave you alone.

When you approached Michael he let out an appreciative whistle, and you let him wrap his arms around you in greeting. He looked down at you, appraising you and probably getting an eyeful of your tits at the same time.

“You are an absolute knockout. Who’s the lucky guy?” He quipped, eliciting an eye roll from you.

Yes, he was also very corny but you decided you liked that about him. You’d dated too many men before that reminded you of the men in your family, and this Michael character was a blonde spark of life, a welcomed change from all the brooding and the fucking bats.

“Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

“Oh, I don’t mind waiting. Got a lot of time on my hands.”

You smiled up at him, steadying yourself on his arms and feeling the muscle underneath your fingertips. You had to admit, even though he was corny he was complete eye candy. Built like a football player, dimples, pretty face…Yep, you were definitely going to fuck him tonight.

Your eye caught sight of something from over Michael’s shoulder. You shuddered; not because of the temperature—It was a warm enough summer night— but because you could feel that you were being watched. There was… a shadow… lurking on a nearby building.

Michael followed your line of sight to peer over at the dark, confused at where you were staring.

“Something the matter, princess? You cold?” He rubbed some heat into the goosebumps pebbling your arm.

“N-no. It’s nothing. Sorry,” You shook your head, breaking away from him to climb into the passenger seat, swiftly shutting your door before he could offer to close it for you. He scrambled back to the driver’s seat, clearly caught off guard from your sudden change in demeanor.

“How about we—” Michael turned toward you, mouth open in mid-sentence.

“Drive.” You cut him off.

“Excuse me, what?” He blinked in confusion.

“Now.”

“A-alright.” He paused, perplexed, then quietly obeyed, gripping the steering wheel as he pulled away from the curb.

You fished into your purse, opening your messaging app to type out DON’T FOLLOW before hitting send. You didn’t need to see the reply to confirm your suspicions you were being stalked, and you knew Dick Grayson well enough to know he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t.

You frowned at the empty seat in front of you. You had already arrived at the restaurant and taken your orders, but your date had been taking a “business call” in the bathroom for over 20 minutes now. You were starting to think you had been ditched.

“This seat taken?”

You looked up but instead of your date you were greeted by the sight of Dick Grayson in a crisp navy button-down rolled up at the sleeves. He looked like he could be a CEO in his own right, like the kind of CEOs people read in romance novels.

His forearms looked extremely capable, courtesy of his rigorous training; Broad shoulders and dense muscle made his shirt fit slightly too small. He cleaned up nice, a bit too nice since other women kept sneaking glances at your table.

Dick was an undeniably handsome man, but you would never admit that to him. Instead you gave him a withering glare.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing but whatever it is, I didn’t ask.”

“So a guy can’t catch up with family after work now?” He sat down in front of you with a look feigning offense until it melted into a playful grin. He looked a bit too smug taking the spot of where your date would’ve been.

“You’re really shameless y’know that? You showing up and expecting me to just welcome you with open arms does not make you family.” You leaned back and crossed your arms. “What the hell did you do with Michael, Dick?”

“What did I do? What, you think I killed him? Like on some mobster Falcone shit?”

“No, like on some Bruce Wayne shit. Real chip off the old block.” You scoffed. “I know you paid him off. It’s the same story with every other guy I’ve dated.”

He was silent as if mulling over whether or not to own up to the accusation.“I gave them an option and they took it,” he said simply as if there wasn't anything wrong with what he just confessed.

“And here I thought I was the problem.”

“Might be. If you keep choosing guys that’ll walk out on you at the whiff of a few bucks.”

“Fuck you, Dick.” You shot him two middle fingers and gathered your things to go. You weren’t gonna stay and hear this shit.

“They were all full of shit and you know it.”

“D-did anyone order the steak?”

Dick broke his serious gaze from you and flashed a dimpled smile to ease the nervous waiter.

“We’ll take it to-go, thanks.”

You watched your 5th Uber request get denied and sighed. You really didn’t want to have to resort to getting the Wayne driver, but these were incredibly desperate times. Maybe if you faked being in danger, they could get to you fast enough to escape from Dick.

You were in the middle of dialing the number up when you felt something heavy across your back; The smell of leather, wood, and spice interrupted your thoughts. You didn’t refuse the warmth; it was welcome. Somehow it had gotten colder than you had originally accounted for.

“Really good thing I was here. Looks like someone needs a ride,” you felt Dick whisper into your ear. He gave your shoulders a playful squeeze and walked ahead of you to his car. You looked up just in time to see him, head turned and smirking back at you.

“Shut. Up. Just take me home,” You gritted out.

“Your chariot awaits.” He tipped an invisible top hat your direction, bowing theatrically as he opened the passenger door to his car. God he was annoying. You slipped past him, and kicked off your heels as soon as you hit the plush leather seat.

The drive back to your apartment was quiet. You weren’t surprised that he seemed to know exactly where you lived. Which, due to the nature of your job was to be expected. Bruce probably had you all chipped anyway, but you appreciated the illusion of privacy at the very least.

You turned your head to stare thoughtfully at his side profile as he drove, one hand on the steering wheel, the other arm resting on the shift. It was oddly intimate to watch him from this perspective. Gotham City’s lights waxed and waned across his face as you passed through the night streets.

“What?” He seemed uncharacteristically conscious under your gaze.

“So…you’re saying I need to date some sort of incorruptible and righteous superhero. That would be good enough for you, right? Someone that can’t be bought or bribed?”

He glanced at you brow furrowed before returning his attention to the road. “Wasn't saying that.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it Hal Jordan’s kinda cute.”

“Real classy, Y/N,” He said, visibly irritated now.

“What? What’s wrong with Hal?” You pressed, knowing you’d struck a nerve. Dick was terribly predictable and fun to annoy when he wasn’t busy annoying you.

“Uh I don’t know, maybe the fact that he’s Bruce’s friend?”

“Please, they’re barely friends. Coworkers at best.” Since when was that an issue for the dude who hooked up with the commissioner’s daughter anyway? The hypocrisy was truly baffling.

“No.”

“Fine,” You pouted at him. “Everyone cares about money, Dick. It’s Gotham. And you don’t even live here anymore, so who else does that leave that money won’t sway? Alfred?”

He gave you a pointed silence, not in any more mood for the topic of conversation. “We’re here.”

You blinked, surprised. Sure enough, you were in the familiar surroundings of your parking garage. Maybe you’d been too busy staring at the cut of the older man’s jaw to notice you were already home.

“You’re not gonna walk me up? ‘Cuz If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought you were my personal bodyguard.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Cockblocker.” You muttered under your breath as you scuffed your heels back on. You shrugged out of his jacket and exited the car.

“Hey, wait! Keep the jacket on, it’s cold,” He called after you, but you only waved him off dismissively. You heard his car door slam shut and in a few strides, he was next to you again, draping the jacket over your shoulders.

He wordlessly joined you in the elevator, pushing the button to your floor like he'd been there before. At the door of your apartment, he passed along the plastic bag filled with restaurant takeout.

You briefly considered the raven haired man and then the takeout bag in your hand. “I’m probably gonna regret this, but…you hungry?”

“I could eat,” Dick shrugged, following after you into your apartment.

You kicked off your heels and made a beeline to the kitchen. “Bathroom’s on the right. Just make yourself at home. I would give you a tour but, you probably already know your way around.”

“Thanks, but it’s the first time I’ve been in here, Y/N.” He replied drily, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I wouldn’t do that, ok?”

You only hummed, not really believing him. Dick Grayson wasn’t the type to lie, he was the type to withhold.

You set down your bag on the kitchen table, reaching into the cupboard. “Wine?”

He jingled his car keys as an answer.

“Ah. Right. ‘Protect and serve’ not ‘drink and drive’, got it.”

Dick seemed to be paying a lot of attention to the knickknacks on your shelf. You watched him pick up a few photo frames, inspect them closely for a bit and then carefully set them back In their places.

“You’re making my living room look like a crime scene, officer.” You chided strolling in closer. “What, are you gonna need a baggie for that evidence too?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, humored. “I didn’t know you liked photography is all.”

“Yea well, there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

“I know enough.”

“Like what?”

He looked around the room and then settled on the books and magazines stacked on your coffee table. “You’re into fashion.”

“Well yea, I’m a model, Dick. Not exactly breaking news,” You scoffed. “You sure you’re a detective?”

He broke into a grin, the kind of grin that made the dimples in his cheeks deepen. It was like he genuinely liked when you made fun of him. “Well, I also know you also have terrible taste in men so…”

“Have you considered that maybe I just wanted to get laid?”

“No, and I hope that never crosses my mind." He made a face like the very thought disturbed him. "Besides, you don’t want that.”

You chose to ignore the blatant patronizing. “Not a want; It’s a need. A biological one. Girls have those too y’know.”

“Ugh alright, can we change the subject now, please?” He wrinkled his nose, cheeks faintly flushed. It would’ve been so easy to tease him about how cute he looked blushing.

“You’re the one that brought it up.”

“I did not bring that up. I’m…just saying that I know you’re not that type of girl.”

“Not that type of—And what would that be?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“The one-night stand type. That’s not you.”

“How would you know what I am and what I’m not?” You retorted, agitation building. Getting date-ditched was one thing but getting mansplained to about your sex life was just the cherry on top of a shitty Saturday night.

“I know you,” He spoke slowly with an edge that confirmed your suspicions; The tone in his voice was backed by knowledge of your history—who you were before Bruce rescued you out of that hell and scrubbed your background clean.

“More like you’ve been stalking me. That’s not fair, Dick. You can look up all the data you want on me on that supercomputer but you don’t get to know me. It’s—it’s too late for that.”

You thought about Jason and how he was ripped away from you too soon. Tears fell faster than you could stop them. One second you were ok and the next, Dick had crossed the room to bring you into his arms. You fisted his shirt as you cried into his shoulder.

“You weren’t here. You left. You left us.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He comforted softly, tightening his arms around you.

“That’s not fair, Dick. It’s not fair.” You can’t remember the last time you cried this pathetically. He was rocking you gently now, whispering apologies in your ear.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m gonna make it right.”

He gazed at you now, a sadness in his eyes. You wondered what exactly he meant by that. The only way to make it right was to bring Jason back.

He gently held your face in his hands, thumbs swiping away stray tears. Years of training had calloused his fingers and you could feel them now against your cheeks.

“Let me make it up to you. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

His soothing voice released flutters in your stomach—a bubbling concoction of fear, anticipation, and…something more.

Inhale. 1. 2. 3.

Your breathing became shallow as he brought his head down, lips hesitant before yours. When you didn’t move away he brushed against you, softly first, waiting for permission until your eyes fluttered closed and you finally let him in.

Your cheeks burned. Something about kissing him made you embarrassed or maybe you were ashamed, like you knew you were doing something you shouldn’t.

You fumbled out of his jacket, now too hot, and pawed frantically at the buttons on his shirt. He kissed you with more passion, swallowing your moans as his hands shamelessly roamed your body, groping and grabbing handfuls of your ass.

“Bedroom. My bedroom.” You said quickly between fraught kisses. If you hadn’t, he would’ve probably taken you right there on the sofa.

He nodded in agreement, picking you up with ease and swiftly treading to your room with you in tow. He set you on the bed and resumed where he left off until you were lying under him. That’s when you could feel him, all of him, pressing against you.

“‘m gonna make you feel good.”

Ripples of abs and lean muscle ground against you as he kissed down your neck. You gasped softly when his hand moved to rub you over the cloth of your panties.

“Wanna see you. Please, let me see you.”

He tugged the top of your dress down, undoing the clasp of your bra and revealing to him the peaks of your tawny nipples. You inhaled sharply, watching him take your breast into his mouth, eyes on you, as he licked and sucked.

You writhed under him, already overwhelmed by everything he was doing to you. He snaked his hand back into the front of your now-soaked panties, rubbing at first and then inserting a finger, then two until you were stretching around him.

“So wet for me, my pretty girl. Look at you milking my fingers in this slutty little dress. You were gonna let him do this to you, right? You were gonna let him finger your pussy too huh, baby?”

You whimpered his name, eyes wide as he continued to speak with his fingers squelching in and out of you. Normal, everyday Dick Grayson had the image of being a “nice guy”. He was probably that neighbor you’d ask to borrow sugar from; You would never expect to hear such dirty words coming from his mouth.

He hiked up the skirt of your dress some more and brought your hips to his face.

“Let me take care of you, huh? Let me take care of this pretty little cunt.”

You cursed softly, as he began to kiss and suck around your clit as he fingered you.

“Fuck,” He groaned, “You taste so good, baby.”

He lapped at your cunt, making lewd slurps and noises. When he removed his fingers, he replaced them with his tongue and the sensation made you squirm.

“Quit moving so much. Didn’t you say you wanted to get laid? Don’t you want me to eat you out?”

“Y-yes. I want—Mmhfuck.” You nodded, finally finding some semblance of language. The way he spoke down to you was so agonizingly frustrating. It reminded you how patronizing he'd been earlier that night, telling you to cover up and dictating your life for you.

“You haven’t been fucked in a while, huh?” He mocked. “That’s why you were gonna let some guy you met today fuck you—Such a fucking slut that’s why you wore that, right?”

You whined at his words, bucking to earn some more friction from him.

“Holy shit, you like that? You like when I call you a slut.” His smile grew as if he just made a huge discovery. “Yea, ‘course you like it. Should’ve spread your legs on that billboard that guy bought. Let Gotham see how much of a fucking whore you are.”

Your cheeks warmed in embarrassment. You felt betrayed by the physical reaction you gave with how crudely he was speaking. He'd figured you out; You liked being treated like a cockdumb slut.

He planted a few more kisses on your thigh, unbuckling his pants with a free hand.

“Wait for me, babe. Touch yourself and wait for me like a good girl.”

You obeyed, rubbing at your throbbing mound to no avail. Your fingers didn’t feel as good as his did.

He freed his cock from his underwear and you could see it now, leaking beads of precum from the tip, swollen and bobbing up against his well-defined stomach. Your mouth watered, you wanted to feel all of him on your tongue. But when you reached for him, he brought your fingers up to his mouth instead, sucking the pussy juices off your fingertips. He kissed your knuckles and returned your hand to you.

“Keep those pretty fingers busy, sweetheart.”

He stroked slowly, watching you tentatively squeeze one of your breasts, your other hand rubbing and dipping between your folds.

“Fuck you’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned before he kneeled to position himself between your legs, aligning himself at your entrance.

“You just need a cock to fill you up, doesn’t matter which one, huh? That’s what you wanted, right?”

He rubbed himself against you, tip occasionally catching on a soft divot, but not fully being inserted inside.

“You’d even let your stepbrother fuck you, huh? That’s how much of a dirty little slut you are.”

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mixture of humiliation, frustration, and desire. How could your body like it so much when he was being so vulgar, so mean?

“Please, I need—“ You panted, trying to push yourself onto his cock for release.

“Mmh? Speak up, princess. What do you need?”

“F-fill me up. I need you to fill me up.”

“Only good girls get filled up Y/N. But you’ve been talking back to me all day like a fucking brat. You gonna be a good girl for me, baby?

You nodded dumbly in agreement. He pushed inside you a little deeper, only to take it out again.

“P—lease, I’ll be good. Just—need you inside.”

If only the patients at Arkham Asylum could see you now. They’d probably grab front-row seats to see you pathetically begging for some cock.

“You could barely take my fingers, princess. You sure it’ll fit?”

He was right. It was a tighter fit than you anticipated, but you could feel him now hot and pulsating as he stretched you out.

“You’re doing so well for me, baby. C’mon you can take it.” He cooed, muttering curses to himself until he finally bottomed out, fully seated inside you.

You moaned, holding onto his forearms as he rutted in and out of you. You could see his length disappear and reappear with every thrust, gathering a ring of your cream around his base.

“How do you feel princess?” He grunted out, pace quickening. “How does it feel to have me balls deep inside that tight little cunt?”

“It. Feels. So. Goo—Ahmmhfuck.” You clenched around him, voice vibrating with every thrust.

“Fuck, you’re milking me, sweetheart.” He laughed, voice smug. “You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you. Fuck, you’re so fucking dirty. You been thinking about my cock filling you up huh? Being my personal fleshlight? It’s everything you ever dreamed of right?”

You could tell he was enjoying this, enjoying degrading you as you laid helpless underneath him, your release depending entirely on him. It was infuriating that he had this much power over you, but the amount of pleasure he was currently giving you superseded your pride.

He pushed your thighs back as he went deeper into an unforgiving mating press, knees by your ears, not caring that you weren’t as flexible as he was.

“Such a good girl taking my cock so well. Wanted this for so long. You’re so pretty. You’re so fucking pretty. You feel so good; so good for me.”

He moaned into your ear, placing sloppy kisses at your mouth and jaw.

“This pussy’s made for me. You’re made for me. I’m the only one who can make you feel this good.”

You felt his balls smack heavily against your ass as he continued to pound his fat cock into your sensitive cunt, reaching your G-spot.

“Whose is it, baby? Whose pussy is it? Please, baby. Say it’s mine. Just for me.”

“I-it’s yours. O-only. Yours.” You gasped out, feeling a warmth blooming at the apex of your thighs as you came unraveled underneath him.

His length twitched as he unloaded thick ropes of cum inside you, some of it leaking out and down your ass as he thrusted deeper.

"That's right, take my cum. Take it, it's yours. It's all yours."

He continued to fuck his cum into you until your walls squeezed around him, coaxing out every last drop.

It was morning now and sunlight peeked out from between the gaps in your curtains. You grounded yourself back into your senses. Your satin pillowcase cooled your cheek, but there was an unfamiliar warmth pinning you down—an arm wrapped around your waist.

He was half-hard now, erection resting lightly against the plump of your ass. You could feel his chest rising and falling, warm against your back as he slept. Deep breaths in. 1. 2. 3. Out. 1. 2. 3.

You liked the way you fit together, your soft curves snug against his hardened body.

You turned a little to try and meet his eyes but your stirring only prompted soft kisses at your shoulder, and a strong arm pulling you ever closer, willing you not to leave the bed.

“Good morning.” He said between nips and kisses, intertwining fingers in yours. “What do you want for breakfast, beautiful?”

“Hmm? You’re still here.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“‘m still here.” He mumbled against your neck. His morning voice became noticeably deeper when sleep still clung to it.

“Not a one night stand type of guy?”

He chuckled softly, the contented sound losing itself in the groove of your shoulder.

“Nope. More like one night and one morning stand.”

You smiled at the terrible joke but willed it away quickly before he could see it.

“I saw that smile,” He accused.

“No, you didn’t.” You tried to smother the corners of your mouth downward again. “You know for someone so smart you say a lot of stupid shit.”

“Aww, you think I’m smart, babe?” You didn’t have to look at him to know he probably had the dumbest smile plastered on his face.

You rolled your eyes. “You also realize you talk way too much right?”

“You weren’t saying that last night.” He palmed your breast, kneading it softly. “Got so turned on you were literally begging me to fuck you. You were all like ‘Please daddy, please fuck me.’”

“I did not say that shit, weirdo.”

“It was implied.” He simpered.

You couldn’t help it; you were giggling now too. “You are such a dumbass.”

“First I’m smart, now I’m a dumbass. Which one is it, hm?”

“Hmm, let me see…Which one is the quiet one, again?”

“You wouldn’t like it if I was quiet, though.” His voice had a hint of challenge in it.

You pursed your lips. He wasn’t entirely wrong.

“See? I know that filthy shit gets you going. Wanna test that theory, baby?” He murmured, kissing the shell of your ear. “See if you’ll call me daddy?"

Evidently he wasn’t the only one who got off to dirty talk. His cock was now fully hard and pressing against your ass.

He rolled on his stomach, pulling you closer to him by the thighs. Your eyes fluttered closed as he nuzzled into your sex, laving and sucking, deep blue eyes locked on you. His lips curled into a smile against you when you moaned and sighed with pleasure.

Dick pulled up briefly, pussy drunk, wearing his spit and your essence on his face like a badge of honor. He peppered a languid trail of drowsy kisses from your mouth and up your jaw as you spoke.

“Wha-what happened to breakfast?” Your question spilled out breathlessly from the way his mouth worked, a futile attempt at remaining coherent. Losing face now meant inflating his ego, especially if you proved his little “theory” a bit too quickly.

“How about I eat you out first, then you let me fuck my cum down your throat later, yea?”

His suggestive whisper sent a heavy wave of arousal straight to your heat.

Fuck.

Your bodies became a desperate tangle of limbs; your legs wrapped around his hips as you bucked up to grind against him, wanting—no, needing— him back inside you. Breakfast was definitely going to have to wait.

©️ blackreaderfics // credit to cafekitsune for the dividers

#dick grayson x black reader #dick grayson x reader #x black reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x batsis #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female!reader #it’s my birthday month so! longer fic than usual #also I hit 100+ followers already 🫣#thanks for reading y’all #brfwrites

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ilyuu-archive · 1 year ago

Text

right where you left me.

synopsis : it takes years to build up feelings and memories that means the world to you and him, and it all takes one evening for it to break down and leave nothing but time standing still and a relationship that could've been. (or you recall the night you broke up with kazuha, thinking it all over again.)

tags : angst/no comfort, modern!au, childhood friends to lovers to strangers, mentions of getting high, light swearing, ambiguous ending.

wc : 2500+! (2635.)

a/n : and yes this is all based off of taylor swift’s right where you left me from perse!! along with that, please do excuse any grammar and formatting mistakes

for the saudade event by the all amazing and angsty creative @soleillunne! the first half is written by the wielder of cat pics, @https-furina, and the second half from yours truly. ready your tissues because in spite of the beautiful and vivid wording from verse, it hurts (in a good way, of course)! nonetheless, i hope you'd enjoy this as much as i did! <3

also, perse, thank you; i had so much fun writing this! the possibilities were endless for me, and reading your part when trying to get a feel for this story made me roll up in a corner and cry (not actually though, so don't worry about me, hehe),,

There's idle chatter and the faint clinking of cutlery and wine glasses, almost drowned out by the harsh winds and rain that batters the restaurant's dimmed windows.

The lights are soft and subdued yet hold a warmth that hugs every living being inside the building - some sheltering from the rainstorm, others rekindling with their lovers or families. That should be you, rekindling with a lover that was never yours in the first place.

To your left, you hear the gossip of two friends; a couple in their friend group recently broke up, "good riddance," one girl chirps, "she deserves better than him." The conversation promptly shifts to that of one regarding marriage and weddings. What would you have looked like on that fateful day with white veil and a glittering ring on your finger, the thought makes you grimace.

"What a sad sight," an elderly woman whispers to her husband from where they're settling at a table not too far away, she's gazing at you with a sorrowful look, "poor girl."

The words shift a small crack of a smile onto your face - is that truly how you looked to the unknowing bystanders around you? Did they think you'd been stood up on a first date?

If only.

The more you stare at the empty, red crushed velvet chair in front of you, the more the realisation starts to hit even harder than before that he isn't going to magically turn up, dressed ever so handsomely in smart casual attire with his silver hair in its usual messy ponytail.

You hadn't seen his face since that night, how pained he seemed as he watched you smash the empty wine glass adorning your table, his eyes trained on the way it shatters into a million pieces on the white cloth. It was almost a perfect metaphor for your heart at that exact moment.

"You know we're here because we need to talk, right?" His voice is familiar, nostalgic almost as he places his blazer over the back of his chair. He hasn't changed since you were children, sneaking after school to the nearest McDonalds until your curfew, "y/n.."

"Do we have to talk?" You respond quickly with a sharp tongue, your hands shaking as you find anything to do with them, this even includes unfolding and folding the napkin in front of you repeatedly. Conversations are whispered all around you, some followed by short laughter.

Kazuha almost winces at the tone of your voice but he knows it's deserved. You had been friends since you could remember, joined at the hip no matter what happened. Your mothers always commented that you were inseparable, never found without the other close behind - so how did it come to this?

It came to this because you had became attached, craving his presence at all times even as you went to university. You wanted him and nobody else could even remotely compete with the man that Kaedehara Kazuha had grown into somehow from that clumsy toddler you'd wrapped around your chubby fingers all those years ago.

For a while, the rebellious teen thought the exact same about you. He would ponder over the hours the two of you spent together in his dorm room, sharing a joint as you forget the stress of the exam season you'd just barely managed to survive.

He would reflect on the nights he'd carry you on his back, taking you back to your dorm after an exceptionally rough night clubbing with your friend group, who always roped you into unbelievable scenarios.

He had expressed his concerns over your friend group more than once but you had shrugged him off, flashing him that playful smile he couldn't get enough of. "It's fine, Kaz," you reassure him as you apply a layer of mascara to your eyelashes, "we only live once, right?" When you'd responded with that, Kazuha initially thought 'yeah, we do.'

Nights under star scattered skies sharing joints would only last so long, after all Kazuha was at university to study business management, the heir to his father's publishing company. With this future responsibility came the family reputation and the eventual arranged marriage to another rich family - that was a criteria that you had never fit in and pre-emptively, you never would.

"You know it's not my decision, y/n," His voice is almost breaking when he takes the seat in front of you, clammy hands clasped together in front of him on the clothed table. You scowl a little, it had never been his choice, had it? "we should seen this coming."

"We?" You repeat, narrowing your eyes at him, "you - you should have seen this coming."

Kazuha lets out an exasperated sigh, closing his eyes for a moment as he listens to the bustle of the restaurant around the pair of you. He starts to consider that a restaurant was not the best location to be having a lover's quarrel.

When he reopens his eyes, they fall to you across the table. Your eyes are glittering like the chandelier that hangs from the ceiling in the centre of the room and he can almost make out the tears starting to pool in the corners of your eyes.

"I never wanted to hurt you, you know that, right?" For some reason, those words hurt your heart more than he most likely intended.

They feel like knives, sharpened daggers that plunge deep into your most fatal organ and tear it apart in ways that Kazuha would never be able to grasp. In that moment, you nearly wish that you could inflict this kind of pain on him so he could feel how your heart ached at that exact time or how the tears stung at your eyes, blurring your vision to the point where you could barely make his figure out.

Even with a singular tear running its uneven path down your cheek, you find the chance to smile, turning your gaze away from him as you let out a soft, pained laugh.

"If that's true, you should have known it would have hurt less for you to have turned me down instead of giving me a chance like you did." Your words bite at Kazuha more than you would ever know.

He hides the way his nails press into his skin, digging into it so hard they leave red, crescent moon marks and almost draw blood. Kazuha chews down on his tongue, the metallic taste of his blood flooding his mouth when he conveniently suddenly finds it hard to swallow, leaving him to succumb to the consequences of his own actions.

His mouth is dry when he opens his mouth to speak but words don't come out, just a simple exhale as he processes the back and forth argument that will continue for the rest of the night, "I've met her already."

"And? Is she nice?" You reply shortly, holding your tongue. There are thoughts running through your mind, hundreds in tens of seconds that you can't even grasp yourself. His family was wasting no time in selling this marriage to the media, gaining that social coverage they crave as socialites.

Kazuha lets out a small hum as if the energy had suddenly shifted back to normal between you.

"She's alright," Kazuha starts and you part your lips to speak, quick witted and sharp but Kazuha holds a hand up, silencing you before he continues, "but she isn't you."

"No, you don't get to get to pull that shit now, Kazuha," you laugh, it's bittersweet and causes Kazuha to visibly wince, "you damn well don't get to say shit like that anymore."

Kazuha's ruby eyes fall to how you are gripping an empty wine glass on the table, one that was supposed to be filled with a dark red liquid by now, its fruity taste becoming bitter on your tongues.

You have every right to be angry with him and Kazuha is drowned in remorse when he catches your knuckles turning white before the stem of the wine glass cracks in your palm, dropping the bowl of the glass onto the white cloth decorating the table as it shatters into sharp, broken shards.

The visual of glass breaking causes you to blink quickly, suddenly back to reality as you realise you're gripping at your phone in your hand with almost the same strength you'd put into the wine glass that night. Your muscles relax, leaning forward on the table as you rest your head in your hands.

It’s time to go.

So? There’s nothing much you can do now, and as much as it leaves such a bittersweet taste on your tongue that you can’t bother to swallow at all, it’s as much as the truth. Not as if some miracle can fly across the sky and everything will end in a happily ever after like in a fairytale. To rely on that, really, is desperation (is it really?) as its finest. Or maybe that’s your feelings talking. Maybe that’s just the lifetime worth of memories you held with him, sweeter and lighter than this entire evening has been, that’s making you want to hold onto that thin, fragile string of hope that means nothing in the grand scheme of things.

You feel your chest ache, a familiar feeling lately that you’d rather disappear, fade, or just… vanish. Really. Just anything to make this go away; it’s more of a reminder than anything that makes it twinge whenever you run through that night in your head too many times to count, each small detail almost nothing, a blur, when all you see is the way Kazuha looked at you. Pained? Helpless? A combination of something you couldn’t pin on in the midst of your own heated thoughts?

You wipe the corner of your eyes with each hand, your warm palms something of a comfort. Not the time.

A moonless night bears witness to the two of you lying atop of the roof of your apartment complex, years felt like days, from your school days, with how clear the memory of Kazuha looking over to you with such adoration swirling in his eyes along with the faint stars.

Your shoulders start to tremble.

The embrace of a familiar warmth wrapping around your waist, the blanket slipping onto the floor from the edge of the couch nothing compared to the comfort seeping into your skin.

Muted colors play across the two of you from the movie - it’s nothing but a backdrop anymore as you find yourself a bit more focused on his hand, your fingers wrapped in his, the pad of your thumb lightly caressing the back of his. You feel his breath, a huff, waft over your neck from that.

You try to let go of a sigh. It only comes out as a broken whimper.

His lips shifting against yours, soft, so sweet, as quiet sounds are shared between two of you. His shallow sighs of your name dripping with every nights’ worth of what ifs, every waking days’ worth of thoughts that crossed and blurred a line between friends and something more.

A chance, a hope, a dream - all of it was woven into the few words Kazuha murmured against your lips, over and over, bounding it with you in his hope that it’d make it real.

You know it all meant something to Kazuha.

Every mote of sand of time that fell within the two of you meant something to him, cherished it close and closer to his heart than anything else. You know that much. It was obvious - so obvious, too obvious - in every word he said that carried gravity and care to you, in every act he’s ever done for you for the sake of making you smile. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

He loved you. Kazuha loves you in every sense of the word. It was only that very love that led to this, as much as the two of you shared in it. This is the best for the two of you.

You know that, and he, of all people, especially knows that. It meant something to him, and so he just had to go ahead and say yes, let you into a world that was only for the two of you, and led you on until the edge of the world and into the reality you’re in now.

Do you blame him for that? For all of this? You’re not sure anymore.

Sure, of course, on that night, he knew where… this, the relationship, was going, how it was going to end. Kazuha could’ve prevented this if he hadn’t held your hand on that one day, stared into your eyes long enough for you to see that he felt the same - he instead gave you, this, a chance.

Things might’ve been better if he didn’t.

You click your tongue. Nope. Don’t think about him, or just don’t think in general - your thoughts are bound to come back to him regardless, no matter what you do. There’s no use thinking about this, no use in even giving it a second of your evening like this.

You stood up. The chatter stirs around you, aware or not, fades to the backdrop. It’s not exactly ideal to stay here, especially since you feel as though you’ll start crying at any given moment. You pick up your umbrella leaning against the leg of the chair, still dripping a bit.

In your thoughts, in your dreams, in your what ifs, yes, but this is neither of those things - this is the truth. This is your reality (how many times will you say that to yourself until you finally realize it?), and the reality is, amid soft, crackling candlelight, a gentle coat of companionship, cottony velvet rolling across the cushions, decor ivy slithering on the walls, just that - a rather pretty veil over your eyes to try and cloud the emptiness that sits with you across the table.

He’ll be alright. Of course he’ll be alright. He’s Kazuha.

You hadn’t realized you were already outside. The light jingle of the bell atop of you fades, leaving a lonely echo. The thrum of the rain felt underneath your feet, clearer than it had been inside.

There’s a heaviness in the air you can’t quite place either, or maybe that’s just all you and the feelings you can’t seem to leave behind (not that it’s easy to do so in the first place.)

For some reason, whenever it rains, you’d feel as though you can finally breathe (he’d know that). You try to smile. It’s weak, shy of breaking down, and to the point that even you don’t believe in it, but it’s a smile nonetheless; it makes you feel a bit better.

You bid goodbye to Kazuha, the thought of him.

You bid goodbye to the man you love.

You bid goodbye to the memories you know you’ll visit later whenever anything and everything reminds you of him.

Will he be happy? Will he be alright? You know you’ll find yourself thinking about this some time later, but you try to find comfort, even as thin as it is, in the idea that he’ll think of the same things you’ll be - that’ll he find that pseudo happiness in a past that’ll already be too far to reach into.

You open your umbrella, the panels springing open. The canopy you’re under trickles with rainfall, pelting said umbrella in an almost melodic symphony if you try hard enough to hear it. You take quiet pleasure in that as you walk out and into the tears.

You’ll be alright. He’ll be alright. You both will be alright.

(He doesn’t like the rain that much.)

The rain itself drowns that one out.

#saudade ; milestone #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x you #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha angst #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fanfic #genshin angst #genshin fanfic

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menlove · 7 months ago

Note

any McLennon fic recs ?

CRACKS FINGERS

immediate rec is your lucky break by @forthlin bc millies writing makes me throw up and scream and cry and this is the fic that got us talking so!! also, young paul and dilf john and I eat it UP. also literally any of their fics are so so good. the latest one is our fic together so I won't rec it but... their writing in the john pov they wrote is soooo good so. I'll rec their half!

✨ = all time fave

just pulling from my bookmarks.......

grow old with me

Paul breaks his arm, and John panics

explicit. fix-it.

and when the broken bodies are washed to shore (who am I to ask for more)

“Jesus, took you long enough,” John says, adjusting the duffle over his shoulder. “Thought I might be out here til morning at this rate.”

For a second he wonders if he’s drunker than he thought, but no. As far as he can tell, it is still 1980, and he hasn’t seen or so much as spoken to John in ten years

mature. fix-it.

John My Beloved ✨

They've always loved each other, in their own way...

explicit. major character death. literally fucking killed me I sat there at 7am after staying up all night and teared up. I cry like. once a year.

i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc) ✨

John’s twelve when a bloke appears from a flaming pie and says, “From this day forward you are Beatles with an ‘a.’” The bloke is Paul.

Or: paul and john meet at all ages and eras and john is the time-traveler’s wife the way only john lennon can be

mature. fix-it. time traveler's wife au that lives forever in my mind rent free.

Stop all the clocks (by @javelinbk)

‘1967. After Brian dies, Paul decides not to go ahead with MMT, and takes John up to Scotland for a month instead.’

mature

Like Love, The Archers Are Blind

He wants to push Stuart out of the way, not even with a violent yank of his collar like he sometimes imagines. Just to melt into his place like butter sliding in a pan. Have it be an effortless breath of fresh air when John looks up at him and sees it all reflected back in his eyes. It’s you.

Hamburg, 1960

explicit

Boy, You've Been A Naughty Girl ✨

John makes Paul a bet. Paul takes him up on it. Crossdressing shenanigans and angst ensue, and ~feelings come out in the wash. 1961.

OR: boys in knickers, lots and lots (and lots) of sex, angst, homophobic slurs, schmoop. The Pineapple Club is fictitious. Originally posted on LJ in 2012

explicit. what can I say but whshwjjajjakak

I Still Miss Someone (series)

It's 1976 and Paul keeps showing up on John's doorstep with a guitar. Eventually John turns him away and Paul goes off to sulk in his hotel room the night before his flight from New York. Based on real events

explicit. not a fix-it.... real to me though

christmas lights (keep shinin' on)

"I'd have you," Paul said, eventually, and John felt the air being knocked out of him. "If it was different. If we were different."

mature.

two of us (burning matches)

It won't stop raining. Paul doesn't know what his feelings are doing. John's practising his right swing. Somewhere along the way, they fuse together

explicit. honestly literally everything by obstinatrix is 💖💖💖

one and one and one is three ✨ by @pauls1967moustache

Even with how badly he wants this, John wouldn't want it if he didn't think it would make Paul feel good. That's the point. It can be good, the three of them. It can work, if Paul lets it.

explicit. failed yoko/john/paul. also literally everything this author writes...... shout outs: a great threat (female paul/yoko w delicious mclennon in the bg) baby it's all relative verse (don't talk to me. the one time I've ever Ever in my life read foot kink and it???? it works??? they'd do this. I don't want them to. but this is real. entered my "psyche of john lennon" file. )

PROBABLY MORE....... but these are the ones that I keep thinking about and ruminating on.

#mclennon

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definitelynotstable · 1 year ago

Text

Camomile pt. 9 [Ghost x gn!Reader]

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7, pt. 8, pt. 9, pt. 10

AN: Ok this series just started out as cute one shots and now I have to think of a plot god damn.

Synopsis: The 141 celebrate your return to duty with a night out at the local pub. Ghost and you argue over Price's decision to clear you for duty. Word count: 1.8k Warnings: Casual drinking, mention of past trauma, arguments Ghost x gn!Reader (callsign Rags): Soap doesn’t know what kombucha is, Gaz doesn’t like mulled wine and Ghost gets a bit overprotective. Fluff, light-angst, etc.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

It’s nearly a month till you’re cleared for duty. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t been lonely. The guys were gone for recon missions half the time and you were either stuck behind a desk playing secretary, in physic therapy or in therapy therapy. It was a tiring routine.

But it didn’t stop you from feeling a little proud when you were able to present Price with a clean bill of health. He’d raised a skeptical brow as he skimmed the mental health section – no one in the military was well in that regard and most of you knew how to con a therapist. The nightmares hadn’t stopped and you supposed they never would. But you’d stopped jumping at random sounds or flinching when touched unexpectedly. You were fit for work and you knew it.

“Everything okay, Captain?” You asked, felling slightly nervous. He could, in theory, refuse to accept the medical certificate and write you off. The man instead sighed and with a flick of his pen he signed off on it.

“You have any problems, you come to me – am I clear?” He said sternly, leaning his elbows on his desk and creating a steeple with his fingertips. “I’m not stupid – wiser soldiers than you and I take years to get over this kind of shit, Rags. No on e would blame you off you needed more time.”

You frown, jaw set. “I’m ready, sir.”

He looks at you for a moment, eyes hard and unwavering – searching for any cracks in your resolve. Finally he nods, pushing up with his hands on the desk to stand. “Alright,” he reaches over the desk to shake your hand, “Welcome back, sergeant.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Good on ye!” Soap claps you on the back with a grin, “Glad tae have ye back!”

Soap and Gaz had negotiated with Price on the optics of a mid-week visit to the local pub. They never confirmed nor denied his verdict. You suspect permission wasn’t explicitly given.

Nevertheless, here you were. The three of you crammed into the usual booth in the back corner, a spot with the best view of all possible exists and entries. An old habit. It wasn’t particularly fancy – some might even call it dingy. But you liked the exposed brick walls, the dented and paint chipped bar made it feel homey. You favourite part was the roaring fire in the centre of the wall at the back, cracked leather armchairs with slightly scratchy pillows arranged in front of it. There was a dartboard off to one side, the wall behind completely littered in holes from drunken misses. The health and safety concerns behind having darts in a pub was certainly still up for debate – though you’d certainly spent a few evenings versing Gaz at the game.

“Thanks mate,” you smile over your mug of mulled wine – another reason this spot was a favourite – “Price was a bit hesitant, but I don’t think he could say no to the med-cert.”

“You’d be surprised,” Gaz remarked, some foam from his beer clinging to his upper lip, “he held LT back from an op once, claimed he faked the certificate.”

“And had he?”

“I had.” The low voice makes you jump as Ghost himself slides in next to Gaz, in the space across from you. “In fairness, I was a lot younger than I am now – and stupider.”

“Can’t’ve been that long ago then, mate.” Gaz jokes, passing the Lieutenant the drink he’d bough for him earlier. Ghost gives his arm a punch but thanks Gaz quietly for the drink anyway, taking a small sip.

“What held ye up?” Soap asks when the lieutenant shrugs of his jacket.

“Bloody paperwork,” he grumbles, “I don’t envy you, Rags. Just a couple of hours has me going mental – I can’t fathom a full day.”

You nod sympathetically, “Yeah, can’t say I’d recommend it.”

“Rags was just tellin’ us Price cleared ‘em for duty,” Soap says proudly, “I said we’d each buy ‘em a drink.”

“That so?” Ghost raises a pale brow at you, balaclava pulled up so he can drink. You blush under his stare. “Not sure how he’d react if you showed up to trainin’ hungover.”

You scoff, “It’s a week night, I’m drinking mulled wine.”

“Surely mulled wine can still get you drunk.” Gaz says, setting his empty glass down with a thud.

You shake your head with a laugh, “They cook it out, Gaz. There isn’t much alcohol left in here at all.”

“But surely there’s an amount you could have that’d do it – like kombucha – right?”

“What in the world is kombucha?!” Soap splutters, licking at the beer on his upper lip. You laugh as Gaz attempts to explain it.

“Tha’ sounds horrid.” The scot says, looking ill.

“It’s not bad,” you say, still grinning at Soap’s expression. “I’m sure there is an amount, Gaz, but you’d probably die of overconsumption before getting drunk, or something like that.”

“Boring.” Gaz mutters, flicking his empty glass away, “What’s the point in non-alcoholic wine, anyway?”

“Because they put spices and shit in it – it’s delicious.”

“Doubt that.”

“Here, try some,” you shove your half empty mug in his direction, some splashed onto the table, “it’s good, I promise.”

Gaz wrinkles his nose, pushing the mug away with a single finger, “I’m ok, thanks.”

You roll your eyes and reach out to take your drink back when a pale hand intercepts you. Ghost takes a long sip and licks the excess from his lips, watching you with something playful in his eyes.

“You’d do well to expand your palette, Gaz,” the lieutenant drawls, setting the mug back down in front of you, “instead of only drinking beer like you’ve just turned eighteen.”

Gaz snorts indignantly, “Ok, grandad.”

Ghost just smirks, sculling the rest of his whiskey.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Though Gaz and Soap are smarter than to get drunk the night before an early training, it still takes Ghost and you a while to drag them away from the bar.

“Social butterflies,” you scoff, slumping onto the couch in the kitchen after successfully directing the two men to their rooms. Ghost clicks the door to the hallway shut and flicks in the jug.

“Horny bastards.” Ghost offers instead and you laugh.

“All it takes is for the pair to have a single sip of alcohol and suddenly the pub’s their oyster.”

The lieutenant hums in agreement. “Camomile?”

“Yes please,” you groan, kicking off your boots and sinking further into the couch. You sling an arm across your eyes but still watch the man as he potters around in the kitchen. You smile as he reshuffles the mug shelf to find your favourite mug. He finds it and turns to place it on the bench next to his when he notices you watching.

“What?”

You grin, snuggling further into the couch with a sigh.“Nothing.”

The lieutenant huffs, returning to the mugs. Steam curls around him as the boiling water hits the cool ceramic. God he looks gorgeous in such a domestic setting. You’ll never get over it.

“Here,” a mug hovers in front of your face, you push yourself up and take it from him with a small “thanks”.

Instead of settling at the table like usual, the lieutenant nods at the other side of the couch. “Scoot.”

You curl your legs under you, careful not to spill your tea as the couch shifts as he sinks down next to you.

“So,” he says, leaning into the arm of the chair and angling himself to face you, “Price cleared you for duty, huh?”

You nod slowly, unsure where this is going. “Albeit hesitantly, but yes.”

“Hmm.” He replies, taking a long sip from his mug.

You frown, “What? You disagree?”

“I didn’t say that.”

You scoff, “Ok well that reaction heavily implied you did.”

He leans forward, eyes hard. “I just think – look none of us would judge you if you needed more time.”

“It’s been over a month!” You point out, exasperated. “Price wouldn’t have said yes if he didn’t think I was ready –”

–“I never said I thought you weren’t ready –“

“Then what are you saying?!” You cry, hitting the side of the couch with your free hand, Ghost watches you with wide eyes. “What is your problem?”

“I’m just saying – recovery doesn’t have a deadline.”

“I know that,” you snap, “but I can't keep babying myself. It's been long enough.”

The man across from you narrows his cobalt eyes, “Babying yourself? You call healing from trauma babying yourself?”

“No, I call wrapping myself in cotton wool and avoiding anything that reminds me of what happened babying myself.”

“Or maybe it's about bein’ cautious,” Ghost replies, voice stern and hard as steel, “about making sure you're in the right mental state before jumpin’ back into a warzone.”

“I've faced worse – we all have. I'm not going to let fear control me.” You’re glaring at him now and he glares back.

He shakes his head. “This isn't about fear, it's about being smart. You could be a liability out there if you're not mentally prepared.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, pushing yourself off of the couch. “So now you think I can't handle myself? That I'm a liability to the team?”

“I never said that.” He growls firmly. “But if you're not thinking clearly, you put yourself and others at risk.”

“You're overthinking this.” You hiss, “I told you I’m fine.”

“You're not fine!” Ghost mirrors you, pushing himself to his feet where he towers over you, eyes shimmering. “You're pushing yourself into something you're not ready for.”

You push him with your freehand. He doesn’t budge and it only adds fuel to the fire. “And you're being overprotective, as always!”

The lieutenant steps closer, his voice low and intense “Because I care about you, damn it.”

You pause, mouth slightly agape – your retort forgotten.

“I care about what happens to you out there.” He says, stepping closer, eyes softer now.

“I know,” you say, searching his eyes, “I know you do. And I don’t expect you to understand. I just need you to respect my choice.”

You watch as he sighs, shoulder slumping. “I do understand,” he murmurs, “and I do respect your choice, I just –“

You cut him off by stepping closer, wrapping your arms around him. He tenses for a moment but relaxes in your hold. “I know.” You whisper into his warm chest, “I know you understand.”

He sighs again, arms finally wrapping around you, a hand settling in your hair. “I’m sorry for raising my voice.”

You laugh into his chest, “I raised mine first, I should be the one apologising. “

He lowers his chin to rest on the top of your head. “I know you’ve been trying, I know you’re doing better. I just can’t help but think of how you were when we found you –“

“Shh,” you hush, rubbing small circles into his back, “I’m ok, you got me back. I’m safe.”

A deep breath shudders through his chest beneath your cheek. “Promise?”

You pull away, his arms loosen but still around you. “Promise.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Tag list:

@alanalanalanalanalanna

Comment if you want to be added :)

Masterlist

#simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #task force 141 #141 x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #ghost cod #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #john soap mactavish #ghost drinks camomile

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misalignedfencegate · 7 days ago

Text

Two for One

Two strangers discover they've been dating the same woman for two years. Betrayed and confused, they find themselves sharing a meal and a laugh—after the disaster of a double-booked anniversary dinner. But in the aftermath of betrayal, could an unlikely friendship form?

Pairing: Producer!Jungkook x Gn!reader ( however there is mentions of makeup)

Genre: humor? Angst in a way but not because of Jungkook, crack fic? Not directly romance with Jungkook? 😔🤚

Warnings: cheating (not from Jungkook), awkward situation, angst with Humor? kinda a crack fic, the reader is implied to like both men and women (sorry if you don’t, you are missing out 😔)

Wordcount: 3,278

a/n: yo yo yo, this is my first ff ever, so please be kind! I’m currently taking a creative writing class for fun (yay, learning!), so I thought I might write a cheeky something instead of doing my coursework.

I really hope you enjoy this little story, I’m excited to share it with you! I don’t plan on making it a full series, but I might follow it up with some random pieces if inspiration strikes and it feels right.

Thanks for reading, and I’d love to hear your thoughts! I would to improve if possible 🙏

You double check your makeup in your compact, hoping this anniversary dinner would go smoothly. It was at a new Italian restaurant that had been booked for weeks—something your girlfriend had insisted on, especially for your two-year anniversary. She’d been working back-to-back shifts lately as an independent makeup artist, something she was incredibly passionate about, and you understood that it sometimes meant long hours. But you loved her for it, and it was that drive that had made you fall for her when a mutual friend set you up.

You thanked the cab driver, paid, and stepped out, carefully making sure your new outfit didn’t get caught in the car door. Checking your phone for the reservation details your girlfriend left you, you walked into the restaurant.

“Hello, welcome to Jin’s. Do you have a reservation?” the hostess asked with a smile.

“Yeah, it should be under So-yoon?,” you replied.

“Of course! Your date is already at the table. Follow me.”

Your girlfriend was already here? You’d expected her to be late, but maybe they’d let her go early for the special occasion. A smile tugged at your lips as you followed the hostess through the restaurant, noting how cozy yet elegant the atmosphere was. You could see this becoming one of your favorite spots—assuming the food lived up to the hype.

“This way,” the hostess said as she led you to the table. “The menus are on the table, and there’s some water. I’ll be back in a moment to take your drink order when you’re ready.”

But as you approached the table, you froze. A man was sitting there, not your girlfriend. He looked confused, staring at the empty chair across from him.

“Excuse me?” you said, raising your hand to stop the hostess from walking away. “I’m supposed to be meeting my girlfriend here... for our anniversary.”

The man glanced up at you, his expression equally puzzled.

“I think there’s been some kind of mix-up,” you continued, trying to get the hostess’ attention. But she had already walked off, greeting the next group of diners.

The man smiled awkwardly, seeming to realise what had happened. “I think I’m in the same boat. My girlfriend’s supposed to be here too… for our two-year anniversary.”

Your confusion deepened. Two two anniversaries? How could that even happen? Had you accidentally made a deal with some sort of sorcerer supreme and messed with the multi-verse?

You glanced at the man more closely. He was handsome, with soft, doe-like eyes that seemed kind. And the sunflowers on the table—definitely something your girlfriend would love.

“I’m sorry, this is... weird,” you said with a half-laugh. You introduced yourself with a smile.

The man smiled back warmly, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook. Nice to meet you. It’s funny, both of us here for an anniversary dinner, but... not with who we expected, huh?”

You shook his hand and let out a soft chuckle, nodding in agreement.“Well, this is... awkward. But it’s nice to meet you too.”

You both stood there for a moment in a shared silence, neither sure how to break the ice. The tension in the air was thick with confusion. Finally, Jungkook spoke again, trying to smooth things over.

“You can sit down if you want. I mean, I don’t mind. While we wait for the Hostess?” He smiled, a little sheepish. “At least we can save ourselves from standing awkwardly.”

You laughed, grateful for his attempt to ease the situation. “I guess that’s one way to look at it.” You pulled out the chair and sat down. “So… our girlfriends are both late, huh?”

Jungkook chuckled, nodding. “Yeah. It’s a bit of a weird coincidence.” He paused for a beat, looking thoughtful. "I’m guessing you and your girlfriend are the same, huh? The kind of couple who goes all out for anniversaries?"

You smiled, feeling a little more at ease as you shared a common connection over the significance of the day. "We try to. Two years... it feels like a milestone, you know?"

“Definitely,” Jungkook agreed, his smile widening. “For me, anyway, it’s all about making sure I do something special. She works so hard, and I just want to show her how much I appreciate everything she does."

You nodded, understanding where he was coming from. You and So-yoon were in a similar position—she worked long hours and was passionate about her work as a makeup artist. Sometimes it felt like your lives were on different schedules, but moments like these made it all worth it.

“I get that,” you said quietly. “My girlfriend’s a makeup artist, actually. Always juggling back-to-back shifts. It’s a lot, but I think that’s part of what makes her so amazing.”

Jungkook’s eyes softened at the mention of your girlfriend’s career, as if he understood exactly what you meant. "Sounds like you two really get each other. That’s rare, especially with how busy life gets."

“Yeah,” you agreed, smiling wistfully. "We’re still figuring things out, but I think we’re doing okay." You looked over at him, feeling like maybe this dinner wasn’t going to be as awkward as you’d first imagined. "So, do you think our girlfriends are in on some secret where they get to be fashionably late to dinners?"

Jungkook laughed, shaking his head. "I hope so, because my girl’s always running behind, but in the end, it’s worth it." His voice softened a little, fondness evident in the way he spoke. "She's a makeup artist too actually? What are the chances..." He trailed off as the door to the restaurant opened with a soft chime, and you both turned instinctively. There was no mistaking the sense of anticipation in the air as a figure walked in.

Your heart skipped a beat. It was her.

Your girlfriend, looking as stunning as ever, wearing her signature bold red lipstick and a radiant smile. Her eyes scanned the room, and then they landed on you. Her face lit up with recognition, and she rushed toward the table.

"Sorry, I’m late!" she said breathlessly, her eyes apologetic but full of warmth. "Work ran over, but... Happy anniversary, love."

You stood up, stunned for a moment, and she leaned in to give you a quick kiss. You felt your heart warm and for a split second, you let yourself believe that everything was fine. Maybe tonight would be the night things fell into place—finally, you'd get the correct table, enjoy a delicious meal, and forget about the chaos of your hectic lives for just a little while.

Jungkook’s eyes widened, confusion flickering across his face. His gaze darted between you and her, trying to piece it together. But it wasn't until the kiss ended, and you smiled at her, that the truth began to settle in.

Your girlfriend smiled at you, clearly oblivious to the awkwardness in the air. It wasn’t until she turned toward Jungkook, her face lighting up with a smile that seemed just a little too bright, that the knot in your chest tightened.

Her eyes flickered between the two of you, and that’s when it hit you—the sudden shift in her expression, the way she froze, just for a moment, as if caught in something she hadn’t planned for.

"Wait..." he whispered, his face paling as realisation swept over him in an instant. "No way. You... you’re the one she’s been talking about?"

“Jungkook?” So-yoon said, her voice faltering, looking between him and you. “Oh my god… what’s going on here?”

Her face drained of colour at the same moment, and he could see it in her eyes before she could even speak—the guilt, the fear, and the horrifying truth that both of them were now fully aware of what had been going on behind their backs.

Jungkook took a step back, his disbelief morphing into a mix of anger and betrayal. "I can’t believe this... You’ve been playing us both this whole time?"

His words hung in the air like a bomb waiting to explode.

Your girlfriend stood there, now looking like a deer caught in the headlights. She opened and closed her mouth, like she was trying to piece together some fragile explanation, but all that came out was a nervous laugh that only amplified the awkwardness."This... this is not what it looks like." she was clearly trying to break the tension but failing miserably. "I mean... it’s exactly what it looks like, but it’s not what I planned!"

Jungkook stared at her, his confusion replaced by a mixture of frustration and surprise. "I—I don’t even know what to say right now. The whole two years?"

Your girlfriend winced, the weight of the moment clearly hitting her. "Yes, i'm so sorry" she said softly, her eyes flickering nervously between you and Jungkook. "I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. I didn’t want to hurt either of you."

You couldn’t believe it. Your hands were shaking, and your chest felt tight as you processed what she was saying. Two years. For two years, she had been with both of you, keeping you and Jungkook completely unaware of the other’s existence.

"I... I don’t know what to say." You finally managed, the words coming out in a breathless rush. “How could you—?”

Jungkook was the first to speak again, his voice a little more even but still laced with shock. "So you... you’ve been seeing both of us? For two years? This whole time?"

She nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far, but—”

"You’re both... both lovely people," she said, her voice trembling as she looked between you and Jungkook. “I didn’t know how to tell either of you. I didn’t want to lose either of you."

There was a long pause as the three of you sat in stunned silence. The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air. Your mind was racing, still trying to make sense of what had just been revealed. Jungkook and you, both sitting at the same table, both having been in the same relationship with the same woman.

Finally, Jungkook cleared his throat, his voice a little tight. “Well, this is... well, this is a mess.”

You didn’t know what to say. Your mind was racing, and your stomach churned with disbelief. You looked at Jungkook, and then at your girlfriend, the woman you thought you knew—who had somehow been living two separate lives with both of you.

And in that moment, everything felt too heavy. Too much.

Jungkook broke the silence again, his tone no longer laced with shock, but with something that felt a little more freeing, almost… resigned.

“You know what?” he said, standing up and grabbing his jacket. “I’m done. This—this is insane.” He looked over at you. “What about you? I don’t know about you, but I’m not sticking around for this.”

You blinked, feeling the same surge of frustration and disappointment rise in your chest. The last thing you wanted to do was sit here, trying to salvage some ridiculous, broken version of an anniversary dinner that had just shattered in front of you.

“No,” you said quietly, shaking your head. “I’m not staying either.”

You both looked at your girlfriend ex-girlfriend, but there was no apology, no plea for understanding. Just a sad look, as if she had already resigned herself to the fact that this was happening.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, but you could tell she wasn’t really talking to either of you anymore. She was just trying to make sense of what had happened, and it felt too late.

Without another word, both you and Jungkook pushed your chairs back, standing up at the same time. You didn’t feel the need to say anything else. What was there to say, really? You couldn’t fix this in a restaurant full of strangers, with awkward glances and sunflowers sitting on the table that no longer held any meaning.

Then, without another word, he turned towards you, offering his arm, the gesture somehow both comforting and distant.

You hesitated for just a second, still processing what had just unfolded—her betrayal, the way everything had shattered in an instant. But when you looked at Jungkook, you saw the same confusion and hurt mirrored in his eyes. Without saying anything, you took his arm, the weight of the unspoken understanding settling between you.

You both walked toward the door in silence, your footsteps echoing in the quiet space. Once outside, the cold night air hit you, but it was oddly refreshing.

“So, uh,” Jungkook said, turning to you with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I was really looking forward to this anniversary dinner, but I’m not about to stay here and pretend any of this is okay.”

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh, the absurdity of it all finally sinking in. “Yeah, same. All I wanted was some pasta and a nice glass of wine, but now… I just want to eat something that doesn’t come with this much baggage.”

Jungkook nodded, grinning a little more now. “Exactly. So what do you say we get out of here and grab some fast food? I’m thinking of greasy fries and a burger.”

You looked at him, and despite everything that had just happened, a little spark of humor broke through. “I think I could go for that.’

Without a second thought, you both headed toward the nearest fast food joint. It wasn’t the romantic dinner you’d expected, but there was something comforting in the simplicity of it. It was just two people, sharing a moment of confusion and frustration, but also a moment of camaraderie—a shared understanding that some things just weren’t worth trying to fix.

As you walked into the fast food place, you felt the last remnants of the tension begin to slip away. The greasy smell of fries and burgers filled the air, and it was a relief to realise that, for once, there was no pressure to make anything out of the evening.

Jungkook nudged you, grinning. “So, we both got played by the same girl... But hey, at least we can laugh about it, right?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I guess so. At least we’re not the ones stuck eating dinner by ourselves”

"You know, I met her at a coffee shop. I don’t usually get days off, and when I do, I don’t really go out much," Jungkook said, his chuckle light. "Honestly, I would've been better off staying home with my dog."

You couldn’t help but laugh. "Don’t worry, I’ve got a mutual friend to curse at now. Two years wasted." You sighed, feeling the weight of it all. "And honestly, we wouldn’t have even found out if she hadn’t double-booked us."

Jungkook nodded, shaking his head in disbelief. "She really should’ve just used a Google Calendar or something," he joked. "Could’ve saved us all a lot of trouble."

You both burst out laughing, the absurdity of it all hitting you both at the same time.

The whole situation felt like something out of a twisted comedy movie. The kind where everything that could possibly go wrong, does, but in the end, it somehow brings people together in the most unexpected ways.

As you both sat at the fast food table, greasy fries in hand and the remnants of laughter still hanging in the air, you couldn't help but marvel at how absurd everything had turned out. The woman you had thought you were sharing a meaningful anniversary with—who you’d trusted and loved for two years—had turned out to be living a double life, and somehow, that was the least shocking part of the night.

He wiped his eyes from laughing and took a deep breath. "Honestly, though, I think we’re both better off without her. I mean, who even does something like that? Two-timing, on an anniversary no less..."

You nodded, shoveling some fries into your mouth. "Yeah. I keep thinking about how messed up it all is, but it doesn’t change anything now, does it? The worst part was probably her thinking she could get away with it... and somehow pulling it off for two years. That takes some serious nerve."

Jungkook's face turned slightly serious, a rare shift in his usual laid-back demeanor. "I know what you mean. I guess it’s hard not to feel stupid. I trusted her, you know? I thought I knew her. But that’s the thing with people like her, I guess... they’re good at hiding things. I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse."

You glanced at him, empathy flooding through you. It wasn’t just the betrayal that hurt—it was the sense of disbelief, the questioning of how you could have missed the signs. But you weren’t alone in that feeling, not anymore.

"It makes sense," you said quietly. "I get it. You never expect the people closest to you to be... well, anything other than who they say they are. I think we both got caught in her version of things." You paused, letting the weight of it sink in. "But you know what? It’s not our fault. People like her? They know how to manipulate. And that’s on her, not us."

Jungkook looked at you for a moment, his expression softening. "Thanks. That means a lot, actually." He paused, his eyes flickering as if he was still processing everything. "I think part of me was blaming myself for not noticing... But I guess she did a pretty good job of keeping it all under wraps."

You shrugged, trying to make it sound casual, but inside, a small knot of relief twisted. "We wouldn’t have figured it out if she hadn’t double-booked us, right? I mean, that's a level of incompetence even I can’t wrap my head around." You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. "I thought it was going to be a nice, quiet night—no drama, no surprises. Instead, I get to have dinner with you, so... thanks for that, I guess."

Jungkook laughed too, the tension in his shoulders easing as he leaned back in his chair. "Hey, at least we got a good story out of it. You’ll always remember this anniversary now. ‘The one where we both got cheated on by the same girl.’"

You both burst out laughing again, the kind of deep, genuine laugh that comes only after something bizarre and painful has passed, leaving you a little wiser but somehow lighter.

"So," Jungkook said after a moment, looking more at ease than he had all night, "what do you do for a living, if you don’t mind me asking? I mean, now that we're both just two random strangers who got screwed over by the same girl, might as well talk about something else."

You grinned. "I’m a freelance writer. Mostly work from home, so my schedule’s flexible. Which, I guess, means I’ve got more time to think about how much of my life I’ve wasted on... well, this." You gave a dramatic wave of your hand. "But hey, it pays the bills, and I get to work in my pyjamas. Can’t complain too much."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. "Writer, huh? That sounds cool. Must be nice to have a job where you can just... work from anywhere."

You nodded. "It’s not as glamorous as people think. Sometimes it’s more about staring at a blank page for hours than actually writing anything worth reading." You smiled a little. "But it’s a good life, you know? Not too many rules. Just deadlines and coffee."

He grinned back. "Sounds pretty sweet, actually. Way better than producing music and dealing with a bunch of drama. But hey, at least I get to work with some cool people, right? I mean, I do a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff, but the long hours? Definitely not worth it on nights like this."

You raised an eyebrow playfully. "Wait, you’re a producer? Do you like work with super famous artists?"

Jungkook smirked, clearly enjoying the surprise in your voice. "Yeah, all the time." He rolled his eyes, "I don’t usually get a lot of days off, though, so I’m kind of stuck in the grind most of the time." He paused, then grinned again. "But tonight? I’m pretty sure I’m done with all the work drama. You and me? We’ve got a much better story now."

You chuckled. "Definitely a story worth telling. And hey, no more weird anniversaries for us, right?"

Jungkook laughed too, his shoulders relaxing for the first time that night. "Yeah. I think from now on, I’ll just stick with my dog instead of dating."

You shook your head. "At least your dog’s loyal."

"Exactly," Jungkook said with a wink. "No double-booking, no hidden agendas. Just treats and belly rubs."

You laughed. "You know what? That sounds perfect. I’ll take a dog over whatever this was any day."

"Agreed," Jungkook said, raising his drink in a mock toast. "To no more double-booked anniversaries. And to dogs."

You clinked your cup against his. "To dogs," you echoed, feeling lighter than you had all night.

The evening hadn’t gone as expected. But as you sat there with Jungkook, sharing a greasy meal, laughing about the most ridiculous night you could’ve imagined, it felt like, for the first time in a while, you might actually be okay.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook #bts jungkook #bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts scenarios #reader insert #bts fanfic #bts fanfction

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cryinginmyroomsposts · 1 year ago

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Be My Valentine | Ch- 1 "No"

pairing: Vernon x reader

genre: fluff, angst, slight crack, friends to lovers, non-idol!au, college au

summary: College was hard enough and the thought of spending Valentine’s Day alone and sad was not your style. And the best solution was to go on a platonic date with your best friend Vernon. It goes so well that it becomes a tradition until it gets messy… nothing ever goes wrong by pretend-dating your best friend right?

status: ongoing

a/n: first time trying something like this cuz I saw too many edits on Vernon’s Fire verse! Please tell me your feedback!

pictures from Pinterest!

As if the sheer cold of the dying February winter was not enough to make life miserable, it also had to be dubbed the month of love. You weren’t a cynic but you knew enough to understand that Valentine’s Day and the gala around it is all nothing but a big capitalistic scheme. As the happy couples invest in the meaningless gifts and expressions of their extravagant love, the lonely saps drown their sorrows in the name of self-love. But your biggest complaint against this whole bonanza is the forced self-hate, even though it usually felt perfectly normal to be single and you even enjoyed it, this time of the year it always felt worse.

Maybe you were just another miserable single sap.

This year was going to be different. You were determined. But also you didn’t want to go through the painful process of pretending to be interested in a guy who, like all the other ones, would either turn out to be misogynist, homophobe or a transphobe- which constitutes 90% of the available population in your uni.

Hence why you find yourself walking with purpose toward the university library with the sole motive of hunting down you’re too smart for his own good best friend of a year and a half, Vernon.

You still remember meeting that shy little boy on the first day of your undergrad, looking lost in the crowd of the class and hoping you would let him sit with you. All it took was an awkward introduction for both of you to build your solid friendship. It was a perfect match- him, a hardworking genius with very minimal social skills and you, an almost genius with the concentration skills of a goldfish.

Vernon might be top of the class, a computer nerd with the face of a young Leo DiCaprio but even he was prone to the February blues and having seen how miserable he was during the previous year Valentines Day, especially as he watched his high school ex go gallivanting about with his then-roommate, you were determined to make this year a good memory for both you.

Also, he is the only guy in the university that you trust and is capable of handling you at the height of your drunkenness.

Looking at your watch you realise that only 10 minutes are left before he leaves his sanctuary at the library and goes to his Virtual Reality class. Of course, you knew his schedule, and he knew yours. He also knew that you hated being left on read and yet chose to do the exact same thing when you had texted the previous night about your genius plan.

Wheezing you finally reach the third floor of the big library that hosted all varieties of nerds and unfortunately, couples (they're everywhere this month, ugh). Walking across rows of shelves interspersed with group tables filled with students seeking refuge from the harsh winter cold or simply biding time, you finally reach the semi-private cabins.

Counting down five from the cabin to your right, you march toward the one you knew Vernon would be in. And surely enough, when you peek your head through the partition separating the hooded figure on the chair, with headphones and his laptop, from the rest of the library.

His head is bent as if he was peering into the laptop through the screen and as you move closer to his chair to reprimand him you realise he is sleeping. Gently moving inside the cabin, standing near the table, facing him, you can see that he had slept while coding. It doesn’t even surprise you anymore.

“Hey douchebag”, you say as you tap lightly on his shoulders. He jerks awake and blinks a couple of times before you see the understanding of reality dawn on his face. Removing his headphones, he moves his chair lightly behind and ruffles his fluffy hair.

“What do YOU want?” He sounds like his usual annoyed self. If you didn’t know he truly did like you as a friend you'd be offended.

But you don’t mind the grumpiness one bit as you settle down on the little space on the table smiling lazily as he gets more annoyed by the disturbance to his ecosystem of peace.

“I want a lot of things, for instance, I want a big mansion on top of a hill just to relax in the summer. I want to know why dolphins were made to be sea creatures if they can’t even breathe in water. I want to know why my skin breaks out in hives due to stress ONLY on my left side. I want to know why I get horny when-“ “Please shut the fuck up.”

He cuts you off with his palms reaching up to cover your mouth mid-sentence. You try mumbling against his palm for a second before which he grips tighter effectively stopping any attempt on your side.

He slowly lifts his eyebrows to warn you against trying to babble again and you nod in affirmative to the same. His eyes thin as he considers your sincerity of shutting up and seemingly convinced releases his grip on your face.

“Why do you talk so much all the time!” He growls as he rubs his eyes while settling back on his chair and lets out a yawn. He looks so much like the freshman kid you met and less like the overworked junior that he is.

You shrug nonchalantly (or so you hope).

“Someone needs to balance your entire lack of energy.” He sighs and slumps back on his chair. “Yeah yeah, I’m not arguing with you anymore… I’ve learned it’s best to just agree with you.” You give him a sarcastic smile as you say, “They don’t call you smart without a reason.”

He responds with an incoherent dismissive grunt and after a moment begins to lean forward as he tilts his chair towards you with both his palms placed on either side of your thigh.

Oh.

“No.” That’s all he says, his brown eyes twinkling, mouth pressed into a straight line looking right at your eye. You're sitting on the inclination of the table and he's on the chair looking up at you, yet he looks so intimidating. Not that you are going to let him bother you.

Two can play this game.

You lean forward and meet his face, a good few inches apart, bring out the good old puppy dog eyes and whisper, “What is the ‘no’ for Hansol”. You purposefully use his Korean name knowing he gets annoyed when you say it (Not sure what that is about till now).

You can see him grinding his teeth beneath that calmness and a smirk naturally plays up your face.

“Quit it, y/n. I saw the text and I’m not going to do it. Get lost.” The words fall out of his mouth in a hurry as he continues to grit his teeth together and not lose eye contact.

“Oh, so you did leave me on read by purpose.” You fake a heartache with your left palm pressed on your chest and your right palm on your forehead. He sees you dramatically pretending to have a heart attack and headache at the same time for a good minute before he decides to end this charade. Just as he moves to get up from the chair you hold him down with your hands on his which were at the side of your thighs.

“Pleaseee”, this time the puppy dog eyes come out naturally. He looks at you for a second before sighing.

“Ugh! You’re impossible but alright.”

“Wait really?!” You squeal a little too loud in excitement and earn a dozen “shh”s in response from the general crowd in the library. Looking around apologetically and back at Vernon, you hold his hands in yours (they’re somehow always warm even in the depths of winter).

“Is that a yes?” Cue more puppy eyes. Another sigh. “I don’t have a choice do I!” Grinning wide, you say “Not really.”

Vernon looks to the side as if to consider something important before turning to you, looking down at your still-connected hands, and then your face.

“I’ll do it but it’s gotta be strictly platonic-“ you’re violently shaking your head in positive because of course that doesn’t need to be said.

“-andddd….”, he’s got a mischievous glint in his eyes which stinks of trouble for you. This is the same glint he had when you ended up eating a pizza with ice cream AND a steak.

“And?” You prod, curiosity up to the brim of your head. “I want you to formally ask me… now.” The grin has turned into an almost full bright smile. “What does formally mean?”

“I’ll leave the details to you…” he shrugs and removes his hands from yours and pushes the chair all the way back to the wall and folds his hand.

“I can wait all day”, he sounds way too proud, sitting there in his hoodie and that smirk(I swear he looks like an actual young Leo).

“No, you can’t. You have a class in-“, you make an ordeal of checking your watch, ”-exactly 9 mins.” He shrugs, “This is worth missing it.”

This bitch.

"Are you really cashing in your bet right now?" You ask referring to the advantage he got after you lost your bet in a UNO game six months back.

He just nods casually and stretches on the chair before settling in a lazy and proud position, again.

You groan knowing he won't give up and get down from the table and get on one knee facing him.

“Chwe Hansol Ve-“ “Nope. Redo.”

This actual bitch.

Giving him your best glare you adjust on your knee, clearing your throat, you try again.

“Vernon…”, you look at him for approval and he nods. Ugh.

“… will you be m-“

“Louder, I can’t hear you.” His grin has transformed into one of his signature all-teeth-visible smiles and his entire face is lit up in amusement and joy.

Clearing your throat a little too loudly, you try… for the third time. Humiliation and anger heat up your entire face.

“Vernon, will you be my platonic Valentine?”

Your voice echoes in the near-silent library halls and the minute you’re done at least another 20 “shhs” are once again thrown your way.

People are assholes.

Vernon looks positively thrilled. He is full-on laughing, shoulders jerking, all 32 of his teeth in display and eyes disappearing behind the light of his smile.

If only he didn’t look so wholesome and adorable when he humiliates you.

He straightens up after a couple seconds and rubs his index finger against in chin, in fake thought.

“Hmmmm...”

Oh god, he is planning something... shit

"No."

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sylviesoothsayer22 · 6 days ago

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Well Matched - Chapter 2

Hyacinthus orientalis

Summary: Wei Wuxian spent the past year and a half terrorizing the cultivation world. Slowly cracking at the foundations until most of the clans were forced to give up chasing him. Only one person was mad enough to confront the newborn Calamity. Uncaring that Wei Wuxian simply wants to move on with his afterlife and pursue his new purpose in peace.

Link to Chapter One if you haven't read it yet: https://www.tumblr.com/sylviesoothsayer22/767249587576651776/well-matched-chapter-1?source=share

Author's Note: First off, I'd like to preface this chapter by stating that I have absolutely nothing against Jiang Cheng. I actually find him to be one of MXTX's most complex characters and his tragic story was excellently written. I re-read MDZS for this fic and took note of how JC constantly dogs WWX's steps like a man-possessed (after THIRTEEEN YEARS of processing), just so he can make WWX pay for his crimes. In this verse, it's only been around two years since WWX's death. So, it wouldn't make sense for JC to NOT try and confront WWX. Calamity or not. I haven't written a lot of angst in the past and my opinions on both JC and WWX's actions might have bled into this chapter. That being said, if you have a problem with the chapter or how it was written, please let me know in the comments so that I can improve in the future.

Jiang Cheng made another attempt to circulate his spiritual energy through his meridians.

He couldn’t feel the energy flow.

Why?! His meridians weren’t damaged in any way and he knew the bastard didn’t drain him.

He gritted his teeth and, once more, thrashed against the bindings that secured him to a tree. Uncaring of the thorns digging into his already torn skin.

The sound of a twig snap echoed through the forest clearing. He opened his eyes and glared at the source.

Above him were unconscious Jiang disciples and hunting dogs hanging from the branches of the tree he was tied to. Green tinted mist swirled around the clearing and the figure at the centre of it all was looking back at him with an empty grin.

“You….” Jiang Cheng breathed out, enraged.

“Me.” His former martial brother responded.

He carelessly dropped the immortal binding nets he was holding and set them on fire with a flick of his finger.

Jiang Cheng gnashed his teeth at the ghost’s casual attitude.

“Did you think that I was gonna fall for such an obvious trap?” Wei Wuxian tutted. “Haven’t all the other clans given up by now?”

It was true. Any cultivator who came close to the newborn ghost would be met with misfortune. Sometimes he drained their cores and broke their meridians to the point that they’ll never be able to cultivate again. Other times he would simply curse their spiritual weapon or had them outright destroyed. The most gruesome was when the ghost sent hired rogue cultivators back to their clients maimed, disfigured beyond recognition or in pieces.

It didn’t stop at direct attacks either. Whenever the Calamity got particularly irritated, dizi music would start echoing near sect territories, followed by their properties mysteriously catching fire and an uptick in monster activity within the forests surrounding Golden Carp Tower, Impure Realm, Lotus Pier, and Cloud Recesses.

The minor sects had become reluctant to pursue the matter further, regardless of their superiors’ wishes. It was theorized that Wei Wuxian had also been in contact with many low-ranked cultivators, as talented disciples withdrew from their clans without explanation and there was a great decline in new recruits. No one with an ounce of self-preservation wanted to take up cultivation if it meant that they would come face-to-face with the Yiling Lazou at some point. The ghost had become an even bigger legend than before and people have bestowed him the title “Black Flute Summons Disasters".

Jin Guangshan, through the urging of Jin Guangyao, withdrew his clan from the manhunt. Their argument? All the sects’ resources were stretched too thin and it’s best that they cut their losses. Also, they reasoned, the Yiling Lazou seems to only act out when provoked. It was next to impossible to track him down and he doesn’t seem to cause harm other than in self-defense. How long will he tolerate their actions before he snaps and goes on another rampage? It had almost been a thousand years since the cultivation world had to worry about a Calamity. This was beyond them. Leave it for the gods to decide.

No one was brave enough to state the fact that the Jin clan was the one bearing the brunt of Wei Wuxian’s attacks.

Lan Xichen supported Jin Guangyao’s actions by having the Lan clan withdraw as well, which forced the Nies to follow. Much to Lan Wangjie’s alleged protests and Nie Mingjue’s clear dissatisfaction over having a powerful spirit running amok. The Jiangs were the only clan that refused to drop the matter.

They chased rumour after rumour. Anything that could give them a clue on the Yiling Lazuo’s whereabouts. Most were farfetched and few were credible. They eventually heard from a reliable source that Wei Wuxian had been prowling up and down a nameless mountain in the far south for nearly a week now. Longer than he would typically stay in one place. Jiang Cheng and his disciples went there and set up traps for the elusive ghost.

Which is what led to the sect leader’s current predicament.

“Wei Wuxian!”

“Hmm? Oh, don’t bother reaching for Zidian. The mist is blocking the flow in your meridians. Not to worry. The effects are temporary.” He gracelessly plops himself on a nearby boulder and drops his smile.

“Let’s talk. What do you want from me, Jiang Wanyin?”

Somehow, the way the question was phrased infuriated the sect leader. As if Wei Wuxian was the one who had been wronged! He barked out a harsh laugh and replied:

“I want back the lives you’ve stolen and to end Jin Ling’s torment, but you can’t give me that. I’ll just have to settle for you kneeling at my parents’ altar in penitence before ending you myself!” Wei Wuxian let out a snort at that.

“A ghost asking the dead for forgiveness? That’s a good one.”

Jiang Cheng felt his rage reach a boiling point.

All traces of cruel humour left Wei Wuxian’s face.

“What’s it going to take for you to leave me be? Haven’t I already repented with my death?” He asked, expressionlessly.

“Not even close. I lost everything because of you. One death hardly accounts for all the sins you’ve committed.” Jiang Cheng growled.

Not everything. Wei Ying thought. You still have her boy and yet here you are. Stuck in the past.

“Then what would you have me do? You’ve already denounced me from the Jiang Clan, you led the siege that resulted in my demise, you stabbed me and helped in the slaughter of the people I swore to protect. Is that not enough for you?” He pressed.

Just forget about me, Jiang Cheng. Please….

“You have the nerve to play the victim now?!”

Wei Wuxian felt his own frustrations rise to the surface. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

“The only one playing the victim here is you.” He retorted. “I’m well aware that the real victims are the ones who were forced to bear the consequences of my actions.”

“So, now you choose to acknowledge Jin Ling?”

“I wasn’t talking about Jin Ling. I was talking about the Wens under my protection.” He opened his eyes again, coldly staring at Jiang Chang.

“Remember Wen Qing? The one you owed a life debt to? You could have at least requested the other clans to grant her a more humane execution. And as for the others…. I know I warranted my own death after Nightless City. But why did the Wen Remnants have to die?” He hissed out the last question. Infuriated all over again at the mere thought.

Jiang Cheng could not believe Wei Wuxian’s sheer gall.

“Even in death…. you still have the nerve to defend those dogs?” He breathed out disbelievingly. Wei Wuxian felt himself snap.

Of course, his hatred of the Wens still hasn’t abated! What was I even thinking?!

“Dogs?” Wei Wuxian sneered. “Is it fair of you to call people who had no part in that fucking war, dogs? Is it fair of you to look at the suffering of the elderly, women and children and simply say they deserved it? To this day, the sects keep posturing about how righteous and just they are, but in the end, you’re all just a bunch of hypocrites who didn’t even blink at the death of a child!”

That startled Jiang Cheng.

“A child…?”

“I’m talking about A-Yuan!” Wei Wuxian seethed. He pushed back the images of when he first found the boy’s corpse after the Siege and continued. “Remember him? Oh, right. I forgot. In your eyes, anyone named Wen is less than dirt. My mistake.” He stood up and took several steps back, taking deep breaths. Trying to calm down. Gods, he felt so tired.

“You threw your lot in with them and shacked up at the Burial Mounds. Even if you hadn’t slaughtered everyone in Nightless City, did you honestly think that you would’ve been left alone?! Was there a plan on how to protect the Wens or did you think all your problems would just go away on their own? The only person you have to blame is yourself!” Wei Wuxian tried not to react at his words.

Ah! Jiang Cheng.... You always knew where to hurt.

This ‘discussion’ wasn’t getting them anywhere.

Was he the idiot for hoping that they would find some kind of compromise?

“Is it even possible for you to let me go…?”

“….No.”

Wei Wuxian laughed harshly. He pulled out his flute and started to play a low and melodious tune. Wei Ying watched expressionlessly as Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened in realization before they started bleeding. He struggled even more viciously against his bindings, but eventually his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. His former shidi's head slumped forward as he fell unconscious.

Wei Ying lowered his flute and let out a sigh. He felt a familiar presence hovering next to him.

“What is it, Wen Qing?” He asked without looking at the woman’s direction.

A ghostly green firefly flew into his line of sight. It took on the vague apparition of a woman before solidifying into the doctor he knows. As a ghost, her clothes were dirtied by soot and ash. Her skin took on a greenish-grey hue typically found among average ghosts. The healer sported burn marks and blackened limbs. Most of the burns were on her lower abdomen and legs. She died from smoke inhalation before the fire spread to the rest of her body.

“Are we just going to leave them like this?” She asked softly. He shrugged in response.

“They’ll be knocked out for the next few days. When they wake up, we’ll be long gone.” Depending on their luck, they will have found the fabled Ghost City and will be let in or they’ll be occupying a new haunt. He changed the subject:

“Did you find the entrance?” She shook her head.

“It keeps reappearing and disappearing, but we’re sure it’s there. What do you think it means?”

“Maybe Crimson Rain is picky with his visitors?” Wei Ying mused aloud. “Either way, we still have two more days of the Zhongyuan Festival before Ghost Market closes.” She nodded and then asks the question he’d been dreading.

“What happens if we can’t get in?” Wei Wuxian felt himself tense before relaxing.

“Then…. we go with our second option.”

“But you don’t know if it will work.”

“I’ll make it work! I’ll protect you all this time. I promise.” Wen Qing gave him a look of concern.

“We believe you.” She reassured gently. “Just please.... don’t push yourself.”

Wei Ying offered her a tense smile before turning away.

“I’ll check on the others. Notify me immediately of any changes.” She nodded although he couldn’t see it. Wei Wuxian was about to leave when she said:

“Don’t let Jiang Wanyin’s words get to you. You did your best.”

He didn’t acknowledge her words and continued on his way.

I appreciate your kind words, Wen Qing. I really do. But you’re wrong about that.

It didn’t take long for him to reach his destination. A vast field of red spider lilies spread out before him. Soft and vibrant beneath the moonlight. Above the flora, many fireflies languidly flew around. Dipping and bobbing as they pleased. A few of the smaller fireflies appeared to be chasing each other in the air. Wei Ying felt himself relax at the sight. He sighed and flopped down on the flower field. Uncaring of the petals floating in the air because of his disturbance. He held out a finger and one of the smaller fireflies landed on it.

“Hi, A-Yuan.” He whispered softly. “Did you have fun with your friends while I was away?” The little firefly bobbed its body up and down enthusiastically.

He patiently listened to the ghost-child's chattering, before gently flicking him away and urging the little guy to go play with the others.

Feeling his eyelids becoming heavy, Wei Wuxian closed them. Just for a few minutes, he told himself.

I want my parents back…

Come back to Gusu with me…

A-Li…still waiting for you…

A-Xian, stop…. You have to stop first. Don’t… Don’t…

He could feel a strange light flicking back and forth through his closed lids. Wei Wuxian cracked them open. Vaguely aware that he cried in his sleep. He was met with the sight of a silver butterfly hovering above his face.

The strange creature gently landed on his nose.

Chapter End.

Further Notes:

*Timeline: It's now been two years since the Siege. WWX spent approximately six months reforming as a ghost and gaining followers at the Burial Mounds. He then spent the next year and a half doing what was mentioned in the chapter above.

*Hyacinthus orientalis: better known as purple hyacinth. The flower symbolizes deep sorrow, jealousy, grief and asking for forgiveness. I'd say it sums up the Yúnmèng brothers' relationship perfectly.

*Zhongyuan Festival: Ghost or Spirit Festival. In this verse, there's a myth that Ghost City's entrance only appears to newcomers during the festival and WWX decided to see if it's true for himself.

*WWX wasn't aware that JC DID in fact speak up for WQ.

*WWX decided to use subterfuge and fear tactics in order to buy time as he waits for the Zhongyuan Festival to come around. He didn't want to outright confront the sects, but he's not above messing around with them.

*In this verse, WWX is PISSED at the sects/clans (and himself) for the Wen massacre and how it was pushed under the rug. He vowed to leave that world behind and protect the Wens' spirits with everything that he has. Most of that drive stems from the trauma where he found A-Yuan's body after he became a ghost. I'll delve into that in later chapters. (Yes, I killed A-Yuan in this verse. Really sorry, but I couldn't stand him being separated from WWX).

Also, the Four Calamities are akin to semi-true folktales in this verse. Hence why the characters know some vague information about Ghost City, when did the last Calamity appear, etc.

There was just..... so much yelling in this chapter. Jiang Cheng is such a bitter and angry man. I hope I didn't make him too OOC. Hua Cheng will appear in the next chapter. Promise.

Hope you enjoyed it!

Many thanks~

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charlottedabookworm · 9 months ago

Text

? About AU’s

Do you think you could do a quick summary of your AU’s? I get some of them but I’m confused by what others are (Time is cruel but gods are crueler for example) - Queenie

oooooh boy

okay so i’m assuming you mean the aus on my ffxv au list cos if you don’t we’re going to be here all day

…frankly we might be here all day anyway but starting from the top:

ardynson au: pretty self explanatory, explores a verse where nyx is born as ardyn’s son

graveyard of blades: a reveal au of the ardynson au where in a ‘fuck this is bad invasion scenario’ nyx basically goes ‘yo bahamut i’m the accursed’s son come and get me’ and then runs through the crowd of enemies as bahamut tries to kill him

time is cruel: another ardynson au except this time nyx is born as ardyn’s son two thousand years ago and the curse that bamahut puts on ardyn to never die extends to ardyn’s whole line. so nyx and ardyn are both alive, don’t know the other is alive, and finally meet again in the throne room of insomnia in the kingsglaive film

the cruellest cut: an au of time is cruel that is. incredible similiar except cor is also there as ardyn’s shield and husband. all three of them alive but with no idea anyone else survived and it’s basically time is cruel but with extra angst and then extra fluff reunions

that one where aulea is also ardyn’s daughter: again, pretty self explanatory. aulea and nyx are both ardyn’s kids. yes this makes noctis nyx’s nephew.

regisson au: nyx is regis’ son

one more light: a regisson au that involves nyx sacrifiing himself at the end of the game in noct’s place and then time travel happens and noct is, shockingly, not happy that his big brother sacrificed hismelf for him

fractured lightning: regisson au where nyx is captured by niflheim for a few years and experimented on. much angst

blood of the storm: regisson au where half the glaive is full of galahdian noble bastards. libertus is clarus’. crowe is a bastard cousin of luna and ravus. selena ulric is aldercapts bastard daughter. pelna is wesk’s. this entire au is just crack okay

starlight on your skin: regisson au where platonic soulmates are a thing, soulmarks are a thing, the long night happens and nyx is basically the only one left and astrals send him back in time to fix things. he crashes in the past in front of his younger self and oh shit wasn’t i halfway througha chapter for that one?

somnusson au: as you can guess, nyx is somnus’ son. i’m not very creative sometimes

dying inside: first fic in the somnusson au, also on ao3. somnus loves his son and kills him for standing with ardyn anyway. much angst. very hurt. sad.

a lesson in time: sequel to dying inside, also on ao3

the phoenix must burn: more stuff in the dying inside au

prompto ulric au: prompto is nyx’s son

you’re the best thing that ever happened to me: a teenage nyx rescues a baby from a nif lab. he’s a dad now. very cute

lightning flashes (and you are free): a fusion of fractured lightning and prompto ulric. this is the happier verse that’s also on ao3

galahdian royalty: galahd has it’s own kings. (nyx. it has nyx. yes i’m obessed with nyx you might have guessed that by now)

platonic promnoct time travel: the game happens. prompto and noctis wake up 16 and grieving and PTSD ridden and determined to change things. also on ao3 under our past is everything we failed to be

si!iris verse: iris is an oc insert from the modern world. amicitia’s are related to ulrics in this. i haven’t touched this au in years wow

styx ulric verse: nxy and selena have a third sibling. styx is an oc insert with game knowledge who is wesk’s daughter and absolutely determined that her brother is gonna live. makes a name for herself as both an academic and a heretic. half the tag is fake tweets

nox fleuret bastard verse: amatus (mat) is sylva’s bastard son. he runs from tenebrae when niflheim invades when he’s a kid. he becomes a glaive marries nyx makes a life for himself and then oh the captain who is like their father is the man who murdered his mother

virtus fic: oc glaive who died in the long night time travels, understandably has issues, rescues baby noct from the marilith. also on ao3. trying desperatelt to work on the next chapter of this cos i got a really nice comment recently

ramuhson au: again, selfexplanatory. nyx is ramuh’s son

that one au were somnus is actually a decent human being: somnus isn’t a dick. he stands with his brother. bahamut is far more of one by forcing him

ardyn king of galahd verse: galahd still recongises ardyn as their king, nyx is ramuh’s chosen. obviously this causes problems when ardyn appears in the lucian throne room and all of galahd recongises him as their lost king

uncle cor au: cor is nyx and selena’s uncle

si!somnus verse: somnus is an oc insert with game and medical knowledge. is fully determined to save his brother. bahamut doesn’t care and somnus is forced to kill his brother anyway. somnus is cursed and eventually reunites with his brother. one day i will actually write this fic

oc assassin aldercapt verse: aris is an oc thief/assassin reincarnated as aldercapt’s son. sentinal guide au. aris fakes his own death blows up half the palace and runs away to insomnia only to be eventually recognised by arydn who still terrifies him

titus has a kid verse: abo au where titus has a daughter who is being held hostage to make titus do what niflheim wants. she escapes and spends years searching for a cure for the glauca parasite in her dad. eventually joins the glaive under a fake id to do this

cor bastard kid verse: cor has a kid. kid is a nursing student who used ot tutor prompto. he adopted the kid basically

yan conall royal bastard with regrets au: yan is regis’ bastard child. he’s a hunter. he does not realise the kid he saves is actually his brother until too late cos regis - who doesn’t recognise who he is - drags him back to insomnia for a reward and yan is full of many regrets

wolfshifter ardyn au: ardyn is a wolfshifter. on his trip to niflheim, cor comes back with a wolf and a baby. somewhat crackish

aulea has a sister: who is an archaeologist. she’s on a dig when noct is born and her sister dies and anyway noct grows up with an aunt who loves him and is also like fuck that prophecy historically they’re bullshit

ghosts of our souls: nyx and noct are platonic soulmates. when one of your dies the other one follows them around as a ghost. you don’t know you’re soulmates until one of you is dead. there’s time travel. regis is very confuzzled

ardyn and nyx are timelords: ardynson au where ardyn’s mum was a timelady and so nyx and ardyn go on adventures in her tardis

clown and the accursed: verse where allen walker (d.gray-man) is born as ardyn’s son

nyx is zack reborn: self explanatory

apollo kid yeeted into eos: kid from pjo gets a prophecy. gets yeeted into eos. i never got very far with this one cos i forgot to write down where i was going with it

MT reincarnate siblings: a handful of the MT’s are reincarnates. one is Tobirama (naruto). another is a soldier from ffvii. the last is a scientist from solheim. they live in altissia

#submission #...i think that's everything?#wow i forgot half of these existed lol #ffxv #my fic

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