i’m a 25 yo non-binary femme lesbian. sometimes i write fanfiction under the tag #my fic (this post is tagged that way for your convenience).
please don’t interact if you’re under 18, and please put your age in your bio before you interact or i will assume you’re underage and block you. this is not an idle threat; i have to block at least a third of the people who follow me, just put your age in bio PLS.
Your cheating ex is getting married to her new girlfriend, and you're invited to the wedding! Your first impulse is to send the e-vite straight to spam, but your coworker has a different idea...
vi x reader, fake dating AU. 2.4k
The night air is cold, even through your shawl. You tug it in closer, to no avail. You could go inside. But instead, you stare up at the night sky. There are no stars, there never are in the city. The moon is beautiful, though.
“Are you cold?” someone asks from behind you. You turn. It’s your date for the night. Vi. She’s leaned up against the doorframe, suave and unbothered. She’s played her role perfectly tonight. You? Not so much. The reception isn’t even over and you’re hiding out.
Vi slides the door shut behind her, and you turn back to the sky.
“Do you want to go home?” she asks. Her voice is soft and warm, and you want to wrap yourself up in it, in her. Which is the problem.
When she offered to be your date to your ex’s wedding, you had turned her down. You weren’t even planning on going. You deleted the invitation as soon as you got it.
But Vi had been persistent, had hatched a plan between shifts. She would pretend to be your girlfriend to show everyone you had moved on, that what Bianca did hadn’t broken you. And eventually you agreed. A few strategically posted Instagram stories later, and she showed up at your front door, dressed to kill (or at least break some hearts), and ready to take you to the wedding of the woman who had shattered you.
Vi ambles closer to you and wraps one arm around your waist. The door behind you is glass, and you can practically feel the gaze of curious wedding-goers burning hot against your back. They’d been gawking all night. Because of that, and only because of that, you nestle in closer. She’s warm and solid against you, finally some relief from the bitter chill.
“No,” you answer her question finally. “I’m fine.”
She laughs. “That’s why you’ve been hiding?”
You bristle at that. “I’m not hiding. I’m taking a smoke break.”
There was no cigarette in sight. That was a joke between the two of you. Vi was quitting, but still insisted on taking her smoke break every hour. “It gives me time to think,” she would say.
“Ah, I see.” Vi nods sagely. “Well, I think it might be time to go back into the party.”
You groan and bury your face in her shoulder. “Don’t say that.”
“Another hour and we can leave,” she promises. She tilts your face up to look at her. “You look beautiful.”
Your face burns hot despite the cold. “You said that already.”
“And it’s still true.” She grabs the door for you, and you murmur a thanks as you step through. Things like that come easy for Vi. Holding open doors, compliments, tender embraces. You know life has never been kind to her, but somehow some part of her has managed to stay soft. It makes you feel better about your own mushy center.
Stepping back in from the balcony feels like being transported into another world. The city outside is grey, painted blue by the moonlight. Everything inside is white, beige, cream, accented by the gold of dangling chandeliers. You always knew Bianca’s family had money, one of the many points of conflict between the two of you, but not like this.
“It’s too much, right?” Vi whispers next to you, close enough you feel the words more than hear them. “The decorations? It’s tacky.”
You smile and nod, but there’s a pit in your stomach. Eight months ago, you would have killed for this to be your tacky wedding. Instead, you found your girlfriend, the love of your life, tangled up with her coworker in your bed. And so, you had to completely restart your life. Everything was tainted with traces of her. Your apartment, your shared friends.
The only thing that’s stayed the same since then was Vi, your coworker at The Last Drop. Nothing had changed between the two of you. Until now.
Vi takes your hand in hers brings it up to her lips. The gesture shocks and thrills you. It’s too much, too over the top in its affection. You should tell her to dial it back, tell her that she’s overdoing it. Bianca never did things like that. But you can’t quite bring yourself to stop her.
“Let’s dance,” she says.
It’s not a request. She drags you after her onto the floor. The song is slow, so she pulls you in close, positioning you like a rag doll. She sways the two of you to the beat; she’s got an alright sense of rhythm. The music is gentle and hypnotic. You want to rest your head on her shoulder, to melt into her. You stay upright though, and smile when her eyes meet yours. You feel lighter.
Vi has that effect on you. That’s why you were hiding. Not Bianca.
Because you told yourself were done with all of this – with dating, with relationships. But when Vi smiled at you, or held you in her arms, it was too easy to forget why that was the case. Vi seemed different, but you never guessed Bianca would have done what she did. It wasn’t worth the heartache.
And that’s your mantra as Vi pulls you in closer. What you tell yourself as you succumb to her gravitational pull and bury your face in the crook of her neck. The song ends, and you pull back. The spell isn’t broken. You still feel warm and gooey, melted through.
You don’t go back to your seats. You dance through three more songs, one slow and two more up tempo. During the last song, Vi spins you so fast you the room blurs, and you can’t help but laugh. You know people are staring, that the two of you are making a scene. You can’t help it.
Then it’s time to say goodbyes. This is the moment you had been dreading.
“We can just leave,” Vi suggests, face close to yours. The whole dinner she had been in your space. Hand on yours. Arm wrapped around you. Anchoring you.
“We have to,” you say, stomach tight. It was why you came.
You wait in line, Vi’s hand in yours. She squeezes, once, and shoots you a tight nod. “Moment of truth,” she whispers. You smile back with a confidence you don’t feel.
When you finally reach Bianca, you almost bolt. The last time you saw her you were telling her to rot in hell.
She smiles when she sees you, but you’re not sure it reaches her eyes.
She hugs you, and your skin burns where she touches you.
“I didn’t think you would show,” she says, when she finally pulls away. Her hands stay on you, rubbing wide circles on your upper arms.
“Then why send the invite?” Vi asks. Her tone is clipped.
Bianca doesn’t answer, and instead asks you, “And who is this?” Like she didn’t already know.
Moment of truth, like Vi said. “This is Vi. My girlfriend.”
Bianca’s eyebrows twitch, slightly. Her hands fall to her side. Then she schools her expression. “Am I allowed to say you moved on fast?”
Vi answers for you. “No.”
Bianca laughs amicably. “I guess that’s fair.”
It’s so warm in here. You miss the cool night air.
“But it seems you were wrong,” she continues. “Jess and I are the real deal.” A petty reference to one of the many things you had screamed at her that night - that she and Jess would never make it because Bianca was a heartless monster.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Vi asks, hand on the small of your waist.
“Nothing,” you say.
“Inside joke,” Bianca says, with a wink. Your face heats hotter still. You wonder if everyone else can hear your conversation, if they’re silently judging you. Pitying you. You wonder whose side everyone is on. Is it even possible that it’s yours? After all, they showed up tonight.
“We should go,” Vi says, looking at you, concern clear on your face. You can’t bring yourself to wish that she was better at hiding her emotions. You like that it’s all out there, that she’s an open book.
“Yeah,” you reply, voice small. You turn to Bianca. “It was good to see you.”
Bianca smiles, eyes crinkling this time. You wonder if that means you lost. “You too.”
She looks like she wants another hug, but you turn before she can reach for you. Vi’s hand is firm on your back, guiding you to the door.
Before you leave, she stops you. “She’s watching,” she says. You know who she’s talking about. “I’m gonna kiss you, okay?”
You nod, palms wet. Vi leans in, and suddenly it’s all too real. And you consider stopping her, just for a second. It’s too late though. If you do, everyone will catch on that it’s fake. Or they’ll think you’re fighting because of her. So, you let Vi’s kiss you.
She’s a good kisser. Lips soft, with a firm hand on your jaw guiding you. If you weren’t floating in outer space, looking down at your own body, you probably would enjoy it. When she pulls away, she rests her forehead on yours. “I think she saw that.”
That jars you back to reality. You remember where you are, that people were watching at all. It had just been so long since you had been kissed, you tell yourself. It was confusing you.
“Let’s go,” you beg.
She rubs her thumb over the apple of your cheek. “Sure thing. Walk slow”
In the car, it takes everything in you not to cry.
“She was such a bitch,” Vi says.
She was. And the crazy thing was, until you had to talk to her you were actually having a good night. The best.
“You hungry?” Vi asks. You hadn’t touched your food all night – you hadn’t thought she noticed, though. Before you can answer, she’s punching the address to the closest fast-food place into her beat up android.
You both order way too much food, and Vi pulls into the closest parking spot so you can feast.
Your stomach is getting dangerously close to eating itself, but instead of unwrapping your sandwich you look at Vi, who experiences no such hesitation.
“Why’d you do this?” you ask.
Vi looks bewildered. “You seemed hungry.”
“Not the food.” You shift in your seat. “Why’d you come with me tonight.”
She pauses before answering. The part of you that’s stuck in that bedroom with Bianca tells you it’s because she’s concocting some lie. A more generous part, the one that’s taken with the sharp tailoring of her suit jacket and the tussle of her hair, wants to believe she’s shoring up courage to confess. That this was where she would tell you that it was because she wants you, because she’s always wanted you –
“I thought you needed closure,” she answers, finally.
Oh. “You were being a good friend.” You offer a tight smile. It’s a good reason, even if it’s not the one you were hoping for in your heart of hearts.
She tilts her head thoughtfully. “Yeah, I guess we are friends, huh?”
You nudge her. “Of course we are. What else would we be?” But your heart is blistering in your chest.
She doesn’t hesitate this time. “Coworkers, obviously.” She grins at the way you roll your eyes and snatches one of your fries out of the bag.
“Hey!” You try to snatch it back, but it’s in her mouth in a blink.
“Too slow,” she says, mouth full. You wrinkle your nose, and she laughs, head thrown back.
You play with your fingers, giving them something to do, so you don’t do something stupid, like reach out for her.
It’s two AM when you leave the parking lot. You don’t want the night to end. You want to invite her up, but you can’t think of an excuse that wouldn’t make your desperation for her obvious.
She walks you to the door, tie loosened, suit jacket abandoned.
You turn back to say something, maybe just goodnight, but Vi beats you to it.
“Can I tell you something?” she asks. Her gaze is piercing, and the focused beam of her attention makes you want to squirm.
Instead, you raise a brow. “Can I stop you?”
“I like you. I think I’ve always had a thing for you. Ever since you started working at the bar.” The words knock the air out of you. You would accuse her of lying, of playing some kind of cruel trick, but she’s so solemn you know she’s telling the truth. “That’s why I wanted you to come to this. I thought maybe it would give you some closure, help you move one. I wasn’t lying” Her eyes go wide, and the earnestness in her gaze makes you want to gobble her up. “But, or also, I guess, I wanted to be there when it happened. Because maybe you would be ready.”
“Ready for what?” you ask, breathless. It’s funny how getting what you want feels a lot like having the wind knocked out of you. Like standing at the edge of a steep cliff, too scared to look down.
She doesn’t answer immediately, instead takes a half step closer to you. You stand your ground. So, she moves closer still. One rough hand curls delicately around the back of your neck. “For this,” she whispers, and her lips are on yours again.
You had thought she was good at this before. It turns out, Vi was better when it the real deal.
She starts to pull away, and you fist your hands into her shirt to keep her where she is. She doesn’t protest, just wraps her other arm around you and pulls you in closer.
Kissing her is a revelation. You can’t for the life of you understand why you had never done it sooner. You would kick yourself, but you’re too thrilled.
You pull away, just a hair, to whisper, “Do you want to come inside?”
Her fingers skim along the edge of your face, kissing your cheeks. “Not tonight, princess.” Your stomach flips at the nickname even as it sinks in disappointment. “Have to take you on a real date first.”
“I don’t mind,” you say, maybe too fast from the way that Vi laughs. There’s nothing mean spirited about it, though. She kisses your cheek. You close your eyes and will time to slow down. It doesn’t.
“Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Another brush of your cheek. And then, just like that, she’s headed down the stairs. She throws another look at you before turning the corner, grin rakish and entirely self-satisfied. You can’t bring yourself to be irritated. Your whole body is vibrating with excitement.
Maybe you’ll regret this. Maybe you’ll look back on this night and curse yourself for ever letting someone else in, for letting yourself get hurt all over again.
Your cheating ex is getting married to her new girlfriend, and you're invited to the wedding! Your first impulse is to send the e-vite straight to spam, but your coworker has a different idea...
vi x reader, fake dating AU. 2.4k
The night air is cold, even through your shawl. You tug it in closer, to no avail. You could go inside. But instead, you stare up at the night sky. There are no stars, there never are in the city. The moon is beautiful, though.
“Are you cold?” someone asks from behind you. You turn. It’s your date for the night. Vi. She’s leaned up against the doorframe, suave and unbothered. She’s played her role perfectly tonight. You? Not so much. The reception isn’t even over and you’re hiding out.
Vi slides the door shut behind her, and you turn back to the sky.
“Do you want to go home?” she asks. Her voice is soft and warm, and you want to wrap yourself up in it, in her. Which is the problem.
When she offered to be your date to your ex’s wedding, you had turned her down. You weren’t even planning on going. You deleted the invitation as soon as you got it.
But Vi had been persistent, had hatched a plan between shifts. She would pretend to be your girlfriend to show everyone you had moved on, that what Bianca did hadn’t broken you. And eventually you agreed. A few strategically posted Instagram stories later, and she showed up at your front door, dressed to kill (or at least break some hearts), and ready to take you to the wedding of the woman who had shattered you.
Vi ambles closer to you and wraps one arm around your waist. The door behind you is glass, and you can practically feel the gaze of curious wedding-goers burning hot against your back. They’d been gawking all night. Because of that, and only because of that, you nestle in closer. She’s warm and solid against you, finally some relief from the bitter chill.
“No,” you answer her question finally. “I’m fine.”
She laughs. “That’s why you’ve been hiding?”
You bristle at that. “I’m not hiding. I’m taking a smoke break.”
There was no cigarette in sight. That was a joke between the two of you. Vi was quitting, but still insisted on taking her smoke break every hour. “It gives me time to think,” she would say.
“Ah, I see.” Vi nods sagely. “Well, I think it might be time to go back into the party.”
You groan and bury your face in her shoulder. “Don’t say that.”
“Another hour and we can leave,” she promises. She tilts your face up to look at her. “You look beautiful.”
Your face burns hot despite the cold. “You said that already.”
“And it’s still true.” She grabs the door for you, and you murmur a thanks as you step through. Things like that come easy for Vi. Holding open doors, compliments, tender embraces. You know life has never been kind to her, but somehow some part of her has managed to stay soft. It makes you feel better about your own mushy center.
Stepping back in from the balcony feels like being transported into another world. The city outside is grey, painted blue by the moonlight. Everything inside is white, beige, cream, accented by the gold of dangling chandeliers. You always knew Bianca’s family had money, one of the many points of conflict between the two of you, but not like this.
“It’s too much, right?” Vi whispers next to you, close enough you feel the words more than hear them. “The decorations? It’s tacky.”
You smile and nod, but there’s a pit in your stomach. Eight months ago, you would have killed for this to be your tacky wedding. Instead, you found your girlfriend, the love of your life, tangled up with her coworker in your bed. And so, you had to completely restart your life. Everything was tainted with traces of her. Your apartment, your shared friends.
The only thing that’s stayed the same since then was Vi, your coworker at The Last Drop. Nothing had changed between the two of you. Until now.
Vi takes your hand in hers brings it up to her lips. The gesture shocks and thrills you. It’s too much, too over the top in its affection. You should tell her to dial it back, tell her that she’s overdoing it. Bianca never did things like that. But you can’t quite bring yourself to stop her.
“Let’s dance,” she says.
It’s not a request. She drags you after her onto the floor. The song is slow, so she pulls you in close, positioning you like a rag doll. She sways the two of you to the beat; she’s got an alright sense of rhythm. The music is gentle and hypnotic. You want to rest your head on her shoulder, to melt into her. You stay upright though, and smile when her eyes meet yours. You feel lighter.
Vi has that effect on you. That’s why you were hiding. Not Bianca.
Because you told yourself were done with all of this – with dating, with relationships. But when Vi smiled at you, or held you in her arms, it was too easy to forget why that was the case. Vi seemed different, but you never guessed Bianca would have done what she did. It wasn’t worth the heartache.
And that’s your mantra as Vi pulls you in closer. What you tell yourself as you succumb to her gravitational pull and bury your face in the crook of her neck. The song ends, and you pull back. The spell isn’t broken. You still feel warm and gooey, melted through.
You don’t go back to your seats. You dance through three more songs, one slow and two more up tempo. During the last song, Vi spins you so fast you the room blurs, and you can’t help but laugh. You know people are staring, that the two of you are making a scene. You can’t help it.
Then it’s time to say goodbyes. This is the moment you had been dreading.
“We can just leave,” Vi suggests, face close to yours. The whole dinner she had been in your space. Hand on yours. Arm wrapped around you. Anchoring you.
“We have to,” you say, stomach tight. It was why you came.
You wait in line, Vi’s hand in yours. She squeezes, once, and shoots you a tight nod. “Moment of truth,” she whispers. You smile back with a confidence you don’t feel.
When you finally reach Bianca, you almost bolt. The last time you saw her you were telling her to rot in hell.
She smiles when she sees you, but you’re not sure it reaches her eyes.
She hugs you, and your skin burns where she touches you.
“I didn’t think you would show,” she says, when she finally pulls away. Her hands stay on you, rubbing wide circles on your upper arms.
“Then why send the invite?” Vi asks. Her tone is clipped.
Bianca doesn’t answer, and instead asks you, “And who is this?” Like she didn’t already know.
Moment of truth, like Vi said. “This is Vi. My girlfriend.”
Bianca’s eyebrows twitch, slightly. Her hands fall to her side. Then she schools her expression. “Am I allowed to say you moved on fast?”
Vi answers for you. “No.”
Bianca laughs amicably. “I guess that’s fair.”
It’s so warm in here. You miss the cool night air.
“But it seems you were wrong,” she continues. “Jess and I are the real deal.” A petty reference to one of the many things you had screamed at her that night - that she and Jess would never make it because Bianca was a heartless monster.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Vi asks, hand on the small of your waist.
“Nothing,” you say.
“Inside joke,” Bianca says, with a wink. Your face heats hotter still. You wonder if everyone else can hear your conversation, if they’re silently judging you. Pitying you. You wonder whose side everyone is on. Is it even possible that it’s yours? After all, they showed up tonight.
“We should go,” Vi says, looking at you, concern clear on your face. You can’t bring yourself to wish that she was better at hiding her emotions. You like that it’s all out there, that she’s an open book.
“Yeah,” you reply, voice small. You turn to Bianca. “It was good to see you.”
Bianca smiles, eyes crinkling this time. You wonder if that means you lost. “You too.”
She looks like she wants another hug, but you turn before she can reach for you. Vi’s hand is firm on your back, guiding you to the door.
Before you leave, she stops you. “She’s watching,” she says. You know who she’s talking about. “I’m gonna kiss you, okay?”
You nod, palms wet. Vi leans in, and suddenly it’s all too real. And you consider stopping her, just for a second. It’s too late though. If you do, everyone will catch on that it’s fake. Or they’ll think you’re fighting because of her. So, you let Vi’s kiss you.
She’s a good kisser. Lips soft, with a firm hand on your jaw guiding you. If you weren’t floating in outer space, looking down at your own body, you probably would enjoy it. When she pulls away, she rests her forehead on yours. “I think she saw that.”
That jars you back to reality. You remember where you are, that people were watching at all. It had just been so long since you had been kissed, you tell yourself. It was confusing you.
“Let’s go,” you beg.
She rubs her thumb over the apple of your cheek. “Sure thing. Walk slow”
In the car, it takes everything in you not to cry.
“She was such a bitch,” Vi says.
She was. And the crazy thing was, until you had to talk to her you were actually having a good night. The best.
“You hungry?” Vi asks. You hadn’t touched your food all night – you hadn’t thought she noticed, though. Before you can answer, she’s punching the address to the closest fast-food place into her beat up android.
You both order way too much food, and Vi pulls into the closest parking spot so you can feast.
Your stomach is getting dangerously close to eating itself, but instead of unwrapping your sandwich you look at Vi, who experiences no such hesitation.
“Why’d you do this?” you ask.
Vi looks bewildered. “You seemed hungry.”
“Not the food.” You shift in your seat. “Why’d you come with me tonight.”
She pauses before answering. The part of you that’s stuck in that bedroom with Bianca tells you it’s because she’s concocting some lie. A more generous part, the one that’s taken with the sharp tailoring of her suit jacket and the tussle of her hair, wants to believe she’s shoring up courage to confess. That this was where she would tell you that it was because she wants you, because she’s always wanted you –
“I thought you needed closure,” she answers, finally.
Oh. “You were being a good friend.” You offer a tight smile. It’s a good reason, even if it’s not the one you were hoping for in your heart of hearts.
She tilts her head thoughtfully. “Yeah, I guess we are friends, huh?”
You nudge her. “Of course we are. What else would we be?” But your heart is blistering in your chest.
She doesn’t hesitate this time. “Coworkers, obviously.” She grins at the way you roll your eyes and snatches one of your fries out of the bag.
“Hey!” You try to snatch it back, but it’s in her mouth in a blink.
“Too slow,” she says, mouth full. You wrinkle your nose, and she laughs, head thrown back.
You play with your fingers, giving them something to do, so you don’t do something stupid, like reach out for her.
It’s two AM when you leave the parking lot. You don’t want the night to end. You want to invite her up, but you can’t think of an excuse that wouldn’t make your desperation for her obvious.
She walks you to the door, tie loosened, suit jacket abandoned.
You turn back to say something, maybe just goodnight, but Vi beats you to it.
“Can I tell you something?” she asks. Her gaze is piercing, and the focused beam of her attention makes you want to squirm.
Instead, you raise a brow. “Can I stop you?”
“I like you. I think I’ve always had a thing for you. Ever since you started working at the bar.” The words knock the air out of you. You would accuse her of lying, of playing some kind of cruel trick, but she’s so solemn you know she’s telling the truth. “That’s why I wanted you to come to this. I thought maybe it would give you some closure, help you move one. I wasn’t lying” Her eyes go wide, and the earnestness in her gaze makes you want to gobble her up. “But, or also, I guess, I wanted to be there when it happened. Because maybe you would be ready.”
“Ready for what?” you ask, breathless. It’s funny how getting what you want feels a lot like having the wind knocked out of you. Like standing at the edge of a steep cliff, too scared to look down.
She doesn’t answer immediately, instead takes a half step closer to you. You stand your ground. So, she moves closer still. One rough hand curls delicately around the back of your neck. “For this,” she whispers, and her lips are on yours again.
You had thought she was good at this before. It turns out, Vi was better when it the real deal.
She starts to pull away, and you fist your hands into her shirt to keep her where she is. She doesn’t protest, just wraps her other arm around you and pulls you in closer.
Kissing her is a revelation. You can’t for the life of you understand why you had never done it sooner. You would kick yourself, but you’re too thrilled.
You pull away, just a hair, to whisper, “Do you want to come inside?”
Her fingers skim along the edge of your face, kissing your cheeks. “Not tonight, princess.” Your stomach flips at the nickname even as it sinks in disappointment. “Have to take you on a real date first.”
“I don’t mind,” you say, maybe too fast from the way that Vi laughs. There’s nothing mean spirited about it, though. She kisses your cheek. You close your eyes and will time to slow down. It doesn’t.
“Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Another brush of your cheek. And then, just like that, she’s headed down the stairs. She throws another look at you before turning the corner, grin rakish and entirely self-satisfied. You can’t bring yourself to be irritated. Your whole body is vibrating with excitement.
Maybe you’ll regret this. Maybe you’ll look back on this night and curse yourself for ever letting someone else in, for letting yourself get hurt all over again.
