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hughiecampbelle · 2 months

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The Boys Preference: Lashing Out And Regretting It

Requested: heyya! love how you write the boys characters you got them so well just like how they are on the show. if its okay and if its a good idea, may i request an imagine with the boys and homelander and their reaction after they and reader got into an argument, getting to the point where they told reader some hurtful things and told reader to leave because they dont need reader or reader is nothing to them/is useless. they just say this because they’re angry but reader takes their word to heart and did just as they said. now they cant find reader or finding it hard to locate reader. could be platonic or familial. thank you! - anon

A/N: Screaming I love this!!! I live for the angst!!! I'm so sorry I've been so slow with requests my loves! I hope you can understand! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

Requests are open! 🔮

Butcher embarrassed you in front of everyone. Yelling and screaming, calling you useless, all because Samer got away. You were a little too occupied with Kimiko and Frenchie to realize, opting to save your friend than chase after him. Both Kimiko and Frenchie were eager to come to your aid, but he shut them down. He got in your face and he humiliated you, said the team was better off without you. You left without a word, ignoring your friends who begged you to stay. You left your phone behind, knowing they'd call and text, apologizing for him. You were good at your job, the best even. You and Butcher have worked together a long time. This was your first mistake in a long time and he couldn't let it go. You were done. You packed a bag and disappeared. When they realized they couldn't reach you, they split up, looking at your apartment and usual hang outs. No one had seen you. Suddenly Butcher can feel his heart in his stomach. Regret spread through his chest. Everyone was pissed at him, but no one was angrier at him. He never should have done what he did. Now you were gone. Who knows when you'd show up again?

Hughie regrets it immediately. He said what he said because he was angry, and stupid, and awful. You left the night of the Tek Knight party. You were a Supe, a powerful one, but for whatever reasons, your abilities weren't what they used to be. You argued with him, saying he shouldn't go in alone. It came out before he realized, before he could take it back. Right now, he was more powerful than you were. What right did you have telling him what to do when you couldn't do your single job? The look on your face, the horror and hurt, it made him sick to his stomach. He tried to apologize, to explain, but you were done. You threw your hands up, wishing Hughie and the rest a safe mission, but you were done. M.M. assured him it was better to go through with it than run after you, so he did, but the whole time he's thinking about you. He doesn't find you at the office or apartment. You disappeared. They tried to track you, find you, but they hit wall after wall. You'd show up again, they all told him, you just needed time. He'd never felt so guilty in his life.

Annie didn't think you were trying hard enough. It didn't seem like you cared anymore. Not about the team, or taking down Homelander. You seemed like you were just going through the motions. She meant to just talk with you, but things escalated pretty quickly. As soon as she said the words, she knew she was in the wrong. You were becoming a liability to everyone involved. If you were done, burned out, then just say that. Leave. But if you wanted to be a part of this team, if you really cared, you'd stop being so useless. Truth was, you were tired. You were tired of everything. There was no name calling or fighting back. You didn't have it in you. You got up and you walked out, pushing past Butcher and the rest who were just walking in. Annie goes to follow you, but you just pick up your pace. She calls and texts, but you never answer. Everyone says to give you your space, but she can't let it go. She shows up at your place which is completely empty. It fills her with so much shame. She apologizes profusely, asking you to come back, but she never gets a response.

M.M. is reactive and angry and he knows what he's done is wrong immediately after. He's been in charge of this team and so far all you've been is negative. You've lost your faith in the team. He understands, he gets it, but for the sake of everyone involved, he needs you to look on the bright side. If there isn't one, he needs you to make one. He ends up blowing up at you while you're waiting for Hughie as Webweaver. You tell him, Annie, and Kimiko that you have a bad feeling about this, a terrible feeling, but it was too late to do anything. Hughie was already inside. He knows now is not the time nor place, but he loses it. If you can't have faith in the mission, in your teammates, then you shouldn't be here at all. Your attitude problems only hurt morality and it was worse than useless, it was dangerous. Annie and Kimiko try to de-escalate the situation, but you've made up your mind: you're done. You leave without a second thought, wishing them a safe mission. Because they're all occupied, no one can really do anything about it. After his panic attack, Marvin sees just how right you were, but when he calls it goes right to voicemail. When it seems like you disappeared, he does everything he can to track you down. You don't want to be found, though.

Frenchie fights with you after Samer gets away. It was the three of you that were in charge of him and you let him get away. You didn't have any fight left in you. It was your fault. He must've been working on the cuffs for weeks. You trusted him and you let Kimiko get hurt. You know that's the reason he's so upset: because he had to cut off her leg to save her. She could have died. You know what she means to him. And yet, he goes a little overboard. Everyone thinks so, yelling at him to stop when he's gone too far. You were useless. You let Samer get away, you let Kimiko get hurt, you failed at every single job you were given. He can see the look of hurt on your face and finally stops, the room left in a heavy silence. You grab your coat and you leave. There was no use in fighting with him, he was right. Annie and Hughie called after you, pleading with you to stay, but you waved them off, storming out. When they don't hear from you, they all start to worry. You sent a single text to Frenchie before turning off your phone. Tell Kimiko I'm sorry. Feeling guilty, he goes to your place. You're not there though, and neither are your immediate belongings: wallet, keys, phone, some clothes. He has to do something to fix this, to make things okay.

Kimiko is really hurt you turned yourself in alongside Frenchie. The guilt was eating you alive, all the things you've ever done. It was horrible. It was unforgivable. When you come back alongside Butcher, who insists you and Frenchie can replicate the virus, you can't stand to look at her. She wants to talk with you, to ask you why, and eventually, when you get a little alone time, she does. Of course she would understand, your upbringings were cruel, brutal, and it lead you down this road, but you couldn't move on. You couldn't forgive yourself. Kimiko was pissed. Did you really think it was that easy? Did you really think you were the only one eaten alive by guilt and shame and self-hatred? She was signing at you furiously, as close to yelling as she could get. You were so smart, so intelligent, and yet you were wasting your talents wanting to rot away in prison! If you were going to throw your talents away and hurt the team and hurt her and become a useless nobody, then what was stopping you? Certainly not her, not any of your friends. You don't have it in you to fight back. You don't have anything left in you, not anymore. She tries to get your attention when you leave, but you don't look back. When none of them hear from you, Kimiko begs The Boys to do everything they can to find you. Please, she has to make things right.

Bonus! Homelander cuts people out of life left and right. Still, you never thought he would turn on you. And yet, when you don't know who the snitch is, when you're not closer to pinpointing the culprit, he loses it. His eyes even heat up, though he catches himself, calming himself down. Firecracker interrupts his yelling, foolishly, but in the end it saves you from hearing anymore about how pathetic, useless, stupid you are. That you don't deserve to be a part of The Seven, you don't deserve to be a Supe at all. He goes off with her, believing it was Webweaver all along. You don't know how much time you have, but you know, in order to avoid his wrath, you have to leave right away. Get some space between you so that he can cool off, if he ever does. You took it as a pretty clear way of saying that you were out, you lost his trust. You weren't a friend anymore, you weren't anything anymore. Firecracker had saved the day. Again. When he comes back, covered in blood and no closer to finding the narc than he was before, he goes looking for you. He searches the entire city, but you've disappeared completely. Vanished.

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m-inluv · 4 months

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𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎 is a very busy man. being a sport promoter is a hard-working job in terms of schedule — having to find various endearing sport events and sponsors who will agree to take part and finance these social event — which consumes a lot of time and humain energy.

and while tetsuro is grateful for the way you support and understand that his work takes a lot of him he still feels guilty for leaving you alone most of the time — especially now that you’re six months pregnant with his son.

over the last couple of weeks your husband and his coworkers started working on a very special sporting event, the ‘FIVB Beach Volleyball World Championships’, the double-gender world championship of beach volleyball. despite this championship being in a bit more than a year it is by far the most important worldwide volleyball event happening in the following year.

which is why testuro has been working harder during the last few days, his schedule being filled with meetings to discuss with a bunch of different sponsors — on who gets to sponsor what.

so when tetsuro finds himself having a ten minutes break between two meeting he immediatly turns on his phone, checking for any texts or missed calls from you — to which he does find a few texts.

wifey ♡ babe babyyy testsuro !! pls reply as soon as you can :(

tetsu •ᴗ• sweetheart is everything okay ? are you hurt ? fuck did you burn the house down ? wifey ♡ babyyyy yuh uh everything is fine !! and i only burnt homemade caramel once :( i just can’t write it over text… call me !!!

the raven-haired man stands up from his seat, excusing himself as he pushes the nearest door open with one hand, the fingers of his free hand swiftly tapping over his phone’s screen as he clicks on your contact id — dialing your number. he then places his phone over his ear, leaning his back against the wall behind him as he waits for you to pick up the phone.

as soon as tetsuro hears some shuffle from the other line of his phone he speaks up, not even letting you greet him properly. “sweetie, is there a problem ?” his tone is worried as he waits for your answer, hoping that everything is fine — that you’re alright.

“tetsu—” you start before letting out a laugh, which kinda helps your husband calm down for a bit. “i told you that everything is fine, you don’t have to worry”

on the other end of the phone you can’t help but smile at your husband’s worry for you, which doesn’t fail to make you remember how much he cares about — something that only increased as soon as the first symptoms of your pregnancy appeared. “what is it then ?” tetsuro’s booming voice immediatly brings you back to earth. “it’s just. . . i have a brilliant idea !” you joyfully tell him. the raven-haired man pauses at your exclamation, searching for any guesses of what that idea might be. . . until a grin appears on his face as he finally comes to realization. “is it another wild craving of yours, princess ?” he lets out a chuckle at your answer, laughing to himself as he hears you sigh from the other line of his phone. “my cravings aren’t weird !” you protest, the pout on your lips evident in your tone, which makes your husband’s grin even wider. “so, i’m craving nachos—” you say before the raven-haired man cuts your sentence mid-way. “oh, from which place do you want it babe ? i can get it delivered at home—”

“no ! i want sweet nachos.” you state, a huff leaving your lips.

your husband stands there, a dumbfounded expression written all over his face as he stares ahead of himself, his brain malfunctioning due to your words. any of his coworkers who would pass by would think that something is wrong with him, like he just heard one of the dumbest things on earth — which he kinda did. “sweet nachos— angel that’s not even a thing !”

“but it is a thing since i just invented it !" you exclaim, your voice full of confidence — as if you didn’t imagine the weirdest ‘dish’ in the whole word. "the base is made of chips — not any kind tho, only the original pringles — with a bunch of m&m’s, reese’s, chocolate syrup and whipped cream.” you say, taking the time to explain this whole snack of yours in details. "whipped cream as to be on top of the chips and in a small cup on the side, okay ?"

tetsuro licks his lips as he notes all of the needed ingredients in his minds, shrugging his shoulders before realizing that you can’t see him and speaking up. "yeah, sure. do i need to stop by the grocery store to get the ingredients or nah ?" he asks, which you answer with a simple ‘yes’. He hangs up the phone a few seconds later — after kissing you goodbye through the phone of course — and steps back inside the building for his last meeting of the day.

when your husband finally exits his work building — by 8:45pm exactly — he walks to his car, a white Mercedes-Benz CLE 200 Cabriolet. he opens the front door for himself, dropping all of his papers on the passenger seat next to him. he turns on his car, pressing on a button — making the roof of the convertible disappear inside of the trunk.

after about twenty minutes — and a stop at the grocery store — tetsuro finally parks his car in front of your shared house. he steps out of the car, a brown paper bag in one hand and his stack of papers in the other, a sigh leaving his lips as he pushes onto the front door’s handle, entering your residence.

“i’m home, sweetheart !” your husband calls out to you, taking his shoes off and walking towards the living room.

he smiles as he sees you laying on the couch, your head propped on one of your arms as you watch ‘from up on poppy hill’. he chuckles softly at the sight in front of him, placing his papers on the coffee table and bending over to get a proper look at your face. you glance up at his face when you finally notice his presence. you immediatly lift you head off your arm, a smile making it’s way on your lips as you sit up on the couch, puckering your lips for the raven-haired man to kiss you, which he glady does.

“how was work, baby ?” you ask him, looking up at him while slightly tilting your head to the side. “there’s a some oyakodon and rice in the kitchen that you can heat up in the microwave and the pan.”

“god, princess, i’m gonna wife you up again. . .” tetsuro mutters, resting his forehead against yours before placing a tender kiss on your lips.

he breaks up the kiss and stands up, affectionately flickering your forehead before walking back to the kitchen, turning the lights on. tetsuro notices the bowl of rice on the counter and grabs it, placing it next to the pan. he tears a bit of paper towel with his fingers, damping it with some water before placing it over the bowl. he turns on the microvage, putting the rice to reheat. your husband smiles when he sees the oyakodon heating in the pan on low heat before turning it higher.

he sighs, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt onto his biceps before turning to the paper bag with the groceries he did ealier. once all of your craving’s ingredients are — finally — placed in front of him, tetsuro can start preparing your snack.

he opens the tub of unflavored pringles before placing some chips onto a plate, some whipped cream on top along with chocolate syrup before scattering m&m’s and reese’s on top of everything. he grabs a small cup, pouring some whipped cream inside.

when the time alarm goes off your husband opens the microwage, carefully grabing the rice cowl — without burning himself — before taking the damp paper off the top of the bowl. He moves the pan off the heat, pouring the runny mixture on top of the white rice that he garnishes with green onion, sesame seeds and a bit of togarashi.

in a swift move tetsuro snatches a pair of chopsticks, placing them between his fingers before grabbing both his bowl and your plate, tuning the lights off before walking towards the living room.

“here you go, sweetheart.” he tells you, handing you your plate while you thank him, your bright smile making your eyes squint and your head tilt.

you slide off the couch, now sitting on the floor as you place a pillow under your ass and behind your back, putting your plate on the coffee table in front of you. tetsuro slips down on the floor next to you, slightly bending his upper-body above the table, gathering some of his food between his chopsticks and taking a bite out of it.

you squeal as you takes one of the chips between your fingers, shoving it inside of your mouth. you can’t help the sigh of contentement leaving your lips at the salty and sweet taste you’ve been craving all day. You take another one, doing a small dance of happiness.

“i gotta say, princess, your food taste was already strange, but now ?” tetsuro says, whistling, only for you to slap the back of his head, a huff leaving your lips as a pout tugs at your lips, only for it to be wiped away by your husband’s lips on yours, to which you gladly kiss him back.

#＿〆(ˊᗜˋ*)#my very first fic !!#i hope it’s well written tho. . .#it’s supposed to be proofread as well !!#i’m shaking sooo bad :(#timeskip! kuroo #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

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dazzlingjaeyun · 4 months

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𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 - 𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐢

best friend!riki x fem!reader

genre: fluff & comfort

warnings: angst, crying, (sort of undressing but i swear it's pure!!), mentions of (not) eating

word count: 1.1k

↝ dazzlingjaeyun's bookshelf | ↝ part 2

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

ring ring ring.

your phone's ringtone startled you. you sat up in your bed, wiping away your tears and grabbed your phone to look at the screen.

you sighed and tossed your phone back on your bed, before slowly standing up and heading to the bathroom to wash your red, tear-stained face.

back in your room, you decided to call back, not wanting to worry your friend.

the call connected as quickly as never before, revealing the right half of the black haired boy's face.

the complaints he was ready to throw at you for not answering any of his texts for several hours got stuck in his throat the moment he saw your face - your eyes still red and puffy, despite your attempt to wash it all away.

"what happened?", he asked instead. although the tone of his voice was soft and filled with worry, he couldn't hide a hint of anger peeking through.

instead of replying, you just averted his face on your screen for a second. but you didn't need to say anything. riki knew you well enough to understand you without words, especially after the countless times he had already found you in that exact state.

"did you argue again?"

you just nodded.

riki really didn't want the anger to get the best of him, but he couldn't help clenching his jaw seeing you in that condition. again. he was angry that after everything that you had already went through, you still ended up forgiving your boyfriend every time. he was more angry at him, though. how could someone treat your beautiful soul like that?

you swore you could hear him mutter something under his breath, but seeing the annoyance on his face, you kept your curiosity to yourself.

"do you want to talk about it?"

still not speaking, you shook your head, instantly regretting the action as you felt your head pounding and spinning.

"alright... do you want me to come over?", he asked, still trying to hide his anger from you.

you sniffled and for the first time that night gave him the gift of two words; "yes, please"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

less than 10 minutes later, you heard a dull knock on your window. riki had purposely chosen the window instead of the front door, certainly not wanting to be confronted by your parents as to why he paid you a visit at this hour.

you were quick to open it to let him climb through the window and inside your room. without a word, he pulled you in for a hug, resting his chin on your head, your face buried in his chest. the embrace let tears pool in your eyes again as the feelings you tried so hard to surpress hit you another time.

riki let one of his hands wander from your waist to the back of your head, pulling you a little closer into his warm chest and carefully stroking your hair.

no longer able to control the tears, you just bursted out, clinging onto the fabric of his zip hoodie tightly, almost desperate. riki was sure that you were close enough to him to hear his heart shattering to pieces at the sound of your sobs.

after some minutes, you caught your breath and slowly let go of your best friend, looking down to the floor. even though he had seen you in this condition before, you felt embarrassed this time, never having cried so bad in front of him until then.

riki placed his hands on each cheek of yours, slowly bringing your face to look up at him and wiping away the tears under your eyes with his thumbs.

"have you eaten dinner?", he asked, half out of worry, half out of the want to change the topic. he never forced you to talk about anything that troubled you, he never dug too deep with questions - but at the same time, always listened whenever you were ready to speak.

you slowly shook your head and riki forced himself to smile softly, very obviously not liking the idea of his best friend skipping meals.

"let's go to the convenience store around the corner?", he suggested. "but first, let's change you out of that hoodie of his"

he had noticed that you were wearing your boyfriend's hoodie only shortly before he said it. trying to ignore the sting in his heart, he grabbed the seam of the hoodie, waiting for your consent and slowly pulled it up after you nodded. normally, you would have felt embarrassed to stand in front of your best friend with only your bra covering your chest, but riki did not take his eyes off your face, not even one split second. instead, he dropped the hoodie to the floor and quickly took off the zip hoodie he wore on top of a t-shirt, helping you inside and zipping it up - still looking nowhere but your eyes.

when he was done, his lips curled up into a smile and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, trying very hard to play it cool when in reality his heart was jumping out of excitement at the sight of you in his clothes.

the two of you silently climbed out of the window and made your way to the convenience store. you got all the things you liked and sat down on a bench in front of the store, sharing your food with each other.

riki couldn't help but smile at your sweater paws and the way not only your hands but practically your entire body would disappear in his hoodie. you looked up at him and just cluelessly reciprocated his smile.

"there you go", he broke the silence. there was nothing that he wanted more than to see you, his best friend, happy and smiling. bonus point if he was the reason for that. he liked to spent time with you and to make you smile. and once or maybe twice he was asking himself if he maybe liked you a little more than he should, but he usually shoved those thoughts aside, just being grateful for the friendship he had with you.

"thank you, riki", you said quietly, leaning closer to him and letting your head sink to his shoulder. he slowly put his arm around your waist, pulling you a bit closer so you could rest on him more comfortably. of course, he liked having you close to him, but this wasn't for his own convenience but solely for the sake of comforting you, being there for you, and hopefully making you feel better.

"anything for you", he replied as he leaned his head against yours.

you smiled to yourself.

"you really are my sweet escape", you said, drawing a chuckle from riki.

thank you so much for reading up until here. it means the entire world to me and i hope you guys enjoyed it. please do not copy. ❤︎︎

feel free to leave feedback & interact!

- dazzlingjaeyun

#enhypen au #enhypen #enha x reader #engene #enha #enhypen x reader #riki x reader #nishimura riki #enhypen fluff #ni ki x reader

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neoplatinum · 5 months

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primadonna girl | cho miyeon

summary: dispatch catching you with korea's femme fatale is NOT on your 2024 bingo card

pairing: idol!miyeon x fem!reader

themes: clubbing in hongdae!, mentions of alcohol, implied sex, hook up buddies, dispatch :(, minor angst, fluff, shuhua! + her doggies

wc: 2.7k

[hongdae, 1am]

you grab your glass half full and down it, leaving the bar. the sting of the hard liquor making you shudder all over. the sea of bodies is making it hard to move around. you weave through the bodies heading for your friend's silhouette across the dark room.

when you feel tugging on your shirt. you turn around to the sight of a gorgeous girl with blood red lipstick and light blonde hair.

she nearly stumbles into you, underestimating her drunk strength.

her face is flushed even in the lowlight of blue and green lasers. her body tilts forward into you as she reaches her hand out.

you shake it, a little confused at the gesture. she's probably drunk out of her mind and mistaken you for someone she knows.

"can i help you?" you ask as you continue to shake her hand. she giggles at the action and covers her laugh with her hand before nodding her head.

"yes, your number?" she tilts her head as she asks the question, you're a little shocked at the boldness. her eyes shine in the light and she giggles a bit before shoving her hand into your jean pocket and grabbing your phone.

she faces the phone in your face before looking for the phone app, adding her contact into your phone. you let her too, mouth agape as you watch her type her contact info into your phone.

"call me?" she says as she tucks the phone back into your pocket. giving you a kiss on the cheek before disappearing into the crowd on the dancefloor.

you don't call her. you don't see her for weeks actually, not until you're out with your friends in another different club.

you don't spot her, but she spots you. too busy in a trance of people watching the dance floor to notice her.

she walks over, moving past the sea of people and making a beeline straight for you.

"hi, lost my number?" she starts, pulling you towards a more secluded part of the club. less sweaty, you focus on her, she's got the same blood red lipstick on, a dark you barely register what she's saying.

"no, i don't know you, sorry." you say quickly, trying to diffuse the situation. she nods at you.

"that's why i gave you my number, so we could get to know each other."

"oh, sorry, no one has ever done this. i’m just confused with what to do." she nods and brushes all of it away.

"no problem, just call me, okay?" she says, and you agree. feeling inclined to do whatever she says with those gorgeous eyes staring back at you.

"come dance with me." she says and pulls you closer to dance up against her. you get lost in the passion.

so, it turns into becoming hook up buddies? friends with benefits, but not friends? sleep partners? it's hard to understand what exactly you two are considering how little you two interact outside of hooking up occasionally.

doesn't help that it’s never at the same place more than twice. sometimes you show up to a studio at 4pm on a tuesday, other times its 2am on a saturday in a club. or sometimes even a bathroom in 9am in some cafe.

it's hard to really understand why you're doing this too, you just feel so inclined to answer every text, no matter what you're doing. each time you leave you feel a little more intrigued by her.

she always manages to send a car for you to get back home though, no matter how far or weird the location is. you think it’s almost like an escort service...but you're not being paid.

it's mind-blowing sex with a gorgeous girl way out of your league, so really you let all precaution leave your body every time she sends a text. lately it's been less frequent, and sometimes you think about reaching out and seeing how she's doing. but you've never initiated anything, it's always her telling you where to go and when to go.

you feel like you don't know your own power in this dynamic. you begin to really miss this girl, even though you don't know her name.

your friend, for whatever reason, dropped so much money on her favorite girl group's concert. begging you to join her, even negotiating ticket prices so you'll be more inclined to go. you ask her who the group is, and she says gidol?

you're very unsure of who they are. but she does tell you that they have that famous song called queencard, so you agree to go. now you stand outside jamsil indoor stadium, watching everyone decked out in purple. while you're still trying to figure out who's who in the group.

you never get to figure it out once you're rushed inside by screaming fans behind you. you nearly stumble over yourself, but mostly you make it to your seat without bumps or bruises.

the signature sound of the group's song getting louder makes the stadium erupt in a roar. the stadium turns into a sea of flashing purple with all the lightsticks.

the concert starts and you're watching the concert videos being played. you focus on one girl; she looks so familiar, but the scene ends too quick for you to really figure it out. and after another minute of screaming, the lift brings up five girls. they stand center stage, lights shining on them looking like they own it.

then you see her, the woman that's been leaving you walking weird, and your neck mauled all last month. her blonde hair draping over her body, a tight red and black corset, and heels high enough to break ankles. your blood runs cold.

"who's the girl there?" you shout into your friend’s ear. she's trying to see who you're pointing at.

"which one?" she asks, shouting into your ear over the screams.

"the one in the middle!" you shout back.

"oh! that's miyeon!" she says and returns back to her cheering. miyeon, miyeon, miyeon. you pull out your phone, fingers flying across the screen to search up the name on naver. and there at the very first result is exactly pretty girl from the bar. you probably stared at the photo for a couple minutes, just so your brain can catch up to who're you’re looking at.

you bring up the camera app to snap a photo of her. a weird feeling sitting in your chest. it feels like you have been deceived. she never mentioned her day job, something along the lines of being in the music industry, but she never mentioned being a top idol.

you try to enjoy the rest of the concert, chanting through queencard and super lady, but in your heart, you are thinking about miyeon. what else could she be hiding?

by the end of the concert, you pull out your phone. sending the photo of miyeon that you took earlier.

(me): you never told me you were an idol....

(me): attachment: 1 image

you shove your phone back into your pants. feeling a little frustrated, you two never disclosed much information to each other about your personal lives, but now you can see why. the girl you have been sleeping with is a global superstar, korea's princess. here you are in a taxi trying to get home, with your friend talking your ear off about how amazing the concert was.

it starts to spread, the uncomfortable feeling in your chest. you feel like you exposed yourself for nothing. now you find out cho miyeon, the girl that is such an expert at eating you out, has a whole other part of her life. it explains the random locations you were asked to go to. probably photoshoots, or the times in between her busy schedule. you are just a booty call to her.

when you finally get home, exhausted from all the shouting at the concert and making sure your friend gets home safe. you hear the signature ringtone sound you set for miyeon.

girl from the bar: can we meet up to talk?

you call miyeon.

"hi miyeon, when can you meet?"

"tomorrow afternoon." she says, you can still hear the sound of busy traffic, maybe she's just getting home now.

"yeah, that works. where did you want to meet?"

"you know that park by the han river, the one we ate ramyeon at." you hear movement through the phone, but you agree. it is time to finally settle what you've wanted to say the whole night.

"see you then miyeon."

"hi." she stands before you, hoodie over a cap and sunglasses bigger than her face. with a mask tucked over her lower face. you stare at her in confusion. this get up is really different from how you usually see her.

"are you sick?" you ask.

"no, disguise." she offers instead. it makes sense, she is cho miyeon of g-idle. so, you sit down, and she sits by you. both of you staring out into the han river. people are biking and enjoying walks, while you are having a nerve-wracking conversation with miyeon. she fiddles with the sleeves of her hoodie as she waits for you to start.

"would you have told me yourself? about being in gidle?" you start. it is time to rip the band-aid off.

"probably not." she answers honestly. you sigh at that.

"okay. we aren't dating but i still feel like i've been deceived by a partner."

"i'm sorry." she continues. feeling a bit guilty from withholding her identity from you. "you didn't recognize me when we were first talking, so i figured it would be okay if we kept this lowkey."

now you feel both upset and awful, miyeon's probably had to walk on eggshells ever since she's been in the industry. keeping her identity hidden as she enjoys her life. you want to apologize too, for pressing her on this matter.

"i'm sorry too then. must be hard trying to stay out of the public eye when you want to have fun." miyeon agrees, nodding her head at the honest observation. meeting you was good; it was a way to protect her idol image while enjoying herself. you never asked for more, and she never offered more. it was the perfect.

"so, what do you want to do now?" you ask.

"i'm okay with continuing what we have if you are okay with it. you cannot tell anyone you know me though." she says, firm about her identity.

"that's okay with me. i would not sell you out." you offer your hand, and she shakes on it.

you are trying to finish up this dinner, stirring the stew in the pot, when you hear your front door open. sight of your friend bursting through the door.

"you whore!" she shouts at you, closing the door behind her as she walks right up to you. shoving her phone in your face. "you're the one dating miyeon?"

"woah, what are you talking about?" panic rising in your body. you take her phone and read the top headline.

DISPATCH: [BREAKING] CHO MIYEON OF (G)I-DLE SEEN WITH GIRLFRIEND

you look below, and photos of you and miyeon (poorly taken), were filling the article. photos of you and miyeon spotted at bars, her photoshoots, late nights outside, even the conversation you had with her by the han river.

"so? you are actually dating her?" your friend accuses you, hands on her hips as she stares at you.

"shit, i need to call miyeon." you hand your friend her phone, before pulling out your own. speed dialing miyeon, it is picked up immediately.

"miyeon."

"i know, i've seen it everywhere." she says, you can hear the sounds of people all around her, swear words being thrown around. you panic while you wait.

"what do we do?"

"nothing to do, we lay low. don't be seen out in public first off. they're going to try and pry into everything in your life." she continues.

"damn it miyeon, i have a life to live, i can't be holed up in my house forever waiting for this to die down." you say back, thinking about work and your life. your friend senses your frustration and stops to sit down.

"i'm sorry, i really am. it's out of my hands right now, the company is deciding what to do next. i'm not even supposed to answer your calls." she explains, and that just makes you feel worse.

feeling like you've been cornered. but then you think, this must be worse for her.

"what about you, do you have to lay low too?" you ask.

"yes, i have to wait until the news cycle shifts to another headline. so, i can't be seen outside or online. it's frustrating but i can handle it, i’m sorry to drag you into this too." she explains, feeling sympathetic for all that has happened.

as much as you want to be upset at miyeon, it's not her fault there’s rabid fans who lack boundaries and are so interested in the private life of idols. you think in a different setting you would have dated miyeon, had there not be paparazzi swarming her for the intimate details of her life.

so, you relent, letting her have her space. the call ended a week ago and you've been cautious being seen outside. putting on a disguise much like the one miyeon wore when she met you.

not seeing miyeon for a week has made you miss her. with both of you forced to lay low in the public's eye, you often chat over the phone. calling or messaging, it's a relief to know that she won't just toss you to the side now that the news is out.

you start to realize that missing miyeon isn't about the mind-blowing sex or the thrill of not knowing where you'll have to meet her. it’s the excitement of being near her, being able to kiss her under the guise of sexual intimacy. the ability to spend the truly little time she has carved out for you.

you feel like a teenager in love, running around at her beck and call because you miss her desperately. late night calls with miyeon feel like they're turning into virtual dates. often eating dinner over the phone together and spilling to each other the details of your life.

"hey, visit me. in the dorms." she says one day over call. you stop your reading as you look up at the screen with miyeon's face filling the screen.

"right now?"

"right now." she says with a smile, and you get up, keys in hand and slipping on your slippers. nearly running out the door to find a cab. miyeon texts you her address, and you take off, smiling at the idea of seeing miyeon after not being around her for two weeks.

after paying for the taxi and looking at the building where her dorm is. you tuck your cap a little lower and quicken your steps. eager to be able to see miyeon. you walk up the stairs to the third floor and knock on the door.

the sound of dogs barking through the door. and there is miyeon, behind the door with her dogs rushing up on your legs. jumping for attention. you give them both ear scratches before walking straight for miyeon, kissing her desperately. pushing her against anything that's close enough.

"hi." she pulls you into another kiss, until you hear something.

"oh, hello." you see another woman. your eyes go wide as you step back, face flushed with embarrassment.

"hi, um, nice to meet you." you offer a hand. the girl smiles and shakes it.

"you must be the girl that miyeon's been seeing." she smiles and picks up the two dogs, putting them on the couch.

"yes. i am. you are?" you ask.

"shuhua, nice to meet you." she says as she turns on the tv.

"nice to meet you shuhua." and you get dragged by miyeon to her room, still feeling the embarrassment of being caught by someone.

"i missed you." miyeon says as you both sit side by side in bed.

"me too."

"i've been thinking about us." she starts. "i want us to date, for real."

"yeah, me too. i would really like that."

"great because i already told my company that i’m serious about you." she says and pulls you into a kiss. dragging her hands down your body.

"oh really? i don't get a say?"

"of course you do, i just thought we both liked each other and wanted to be more."

"i'm messing with you, i would love to be with you." she pushes you backwards and you let out a laugh before pulling her towards you again.

"we're together then." she says with finality.

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while. so i powered through it to finish it. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#gidle x reader #gidle imagines #gidle miyeon #cho miyeon #miyeon #miyeon x reader #miyeon x you #kpop imagines #neoplatinum

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lost-and-ephemeral · 7 months

Note

hii can i request angst for love and deepspace, reader and mc are different ppl. our boys made plans with reader but forgot and left them hanging to hangout with the mc instead 😞

Series: In Her Shadow, pt.1 (ft. main trio)

Part 1 | Part 2

It feels like you've never been enough for him.

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)

Tags: angst, hurt no comfort, reader is not MC, reader and guys are dating

A/N: Thanks for your request, sweetheart! Hope it doesn't look too OOC.

Part 1 | Part 2

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´-

Xavier

Your relationship with Xavier could be called ideal, if not for one nuance.

His colleague, who takes up much of his attention.

There were times when he'd come home and talk about her with such excitement that you'd start to feel like a third wheel. But usually afterwards Xavier would apologize and say that no matter how strong his colleague was, you would still be the best for him.

And you'd like to believe that. Until he forgot about dinner with you because of her.

You've planned a perfect evening and cooked everything he loved so much, knowing how tired he might come back after a mission. Only for him to never show up this evening.

You've been waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Feeling how your heart was breaking even more with each passing minute. Maybe something bad had happened? Maybe he was hurt?

You texted him, only to get back, "Don't worry, I'm fine, my colleague just invited me to the cafe after our mission."

No apologies, no regrets. It seems that he just forgot about you and your plans together.

For a while you were silently sitting in your living room, staring at the phone screen. It was hard to describe all these feelings that were bubbling up inside you. Jealousy, anger. You didn't even bother to remind him about your dinner together and just put all the dishes away in the fridge.

Since when did she become more important than you?

Zayne

You always knew about Zayne's childhood friend. But you couldn't even imagine that she would make you feel so unwanted.

You had plans for today while your lover had the day off. As a cardiac surgeon, Zayne was busy most of the time and would come home late, completely exhausted. Of course, you wanted to spend every free day with him.

Except for one thing.

His childhood friend constantly overshadowed you. Well, you could understand why that was happening. After all, their friendship (or was it more than that already?) had been going on for years, and you couldn't stop Zayne from seeing her.

But…

Sitting alone in the restaurant, at the table you'd booked together, you barely held back tears as you stared at the message marked 'unread'.

When Zayne didn't appear in time, you were surprised. He was always so punctual, what was wrong this time?

But when you asked him where he was, he replied, "Sorry, she asked me to visit an old candy store with her, I'll be back in a few hours," and you realized he'd completely forgotten about you.

And your last message went unread.

"Zayne, but we made a reservation for today."

You sat alone for so long that people started to squint in your direction. The only option was to get up and leave the restaurant before your heart was completely shattered.

And so you did.

Rafayel

Usually Rafayel's studio was always open for you, so you could come to see him anytime.

But as it turned out, you weren't the only one he welcomed with open arms, day or night.

Today was your day off and you were planning to visit Rafayel so you could help him with something in his studio. He asked you to come in the first place. Usually that meant he just wanted to see you and was looking for any excuse, even the silliest one.

But instead you were met with a locked gate.

At first you thought it was just another joke, that Rafayel would come out and let you in, yet some time passed, and you continued to stand there alone. You tried to call him, but it was unsuccessful. No matter how long you waited, no one answered.

Finally you decided to call Thomas to ask him if something important had happened. Maybe Rafayel once again forgot about his own exhibition and had left in a hurry.

But it turned out you were the only one who had been forgotten.

"He said he was going to buy new paints with his bodyguard," Thomas explained. "Or something like that. Better not wait for him until evening, he's unlikely to be back before that time."

Devastated, you stood there for a while longer, thinking about his 'Ms. Bodyguard' who was spending more and more time with your beloved. It wasn't the first she took him away from you.

But this was the last straw.

You turned around, heading back home and desperately holding back tears.

It wasn't fair.

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 6 months

Note

slight angst with happy ending for aaron hotchner

he misunderstands your body language or something (maybe you grew a bit distant, more time on phone etc) and he thinks you cheat cuz he’s travelling for work and he’s had this small insecurity for a while

but obviously you’re not (leave it to you what reader was doing and if she reveals) cheating and comfort ensues

(love me some jealous hotch)

fem!plus size reader, wc: 566.

a/n: i know i need to let the angst breathe, but being the angst lover that i am, i almost jumped at this LMAO.

cw! angst, and fears of cheating :(

Aaron wouldn’t blame you for cheating on him.

He was never home, he had a hard time answering your calls, and he barely texted you back; especially if he was away on a case.

He hated that he even thought like this, but many nights he’d often catch you on your phone, texting away like he wasn’t lying right next to you. Aaron hated being nosy, but he’d sometimes find himself leaning over – just a bit – and playing it off as kissing you on cheek and bidding you goodnight.

He’d understand if you were using the device to cool down or relax, but it was an everyday affair. When you were cooking? You’re texting with one hand. When you’re eating? As soon as the damn thing vibrates your eyes flicker over to where Aaron was sitting across from you quickly before looking back down and flipping the damn thing over.

Who the hell was holding your attention like this?

Aaron didn’t want to offend you by accusing you of cheating on him, because he loves you, but if he didn’t at least know he would go crazy.

“Honey?” He had called out to you one night, his voice soft.

“Hm?” You hummed, your eyes still attached to your screen that illuminated the soft contours of your face. God, you were breathtaking.

“I -” For the first time since the beginning of your relationship, Aaron had no idea how to talk to you. “I don’t mean to intrude but… what are you doing?”

Your eyebrows furrow and you look up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that for the past week your phone has been glued to your hand.”

You look almost surprised at his confrontation, and that made his stomach drop. Is it really as bad as he thought it was? He felt the bile rise in the back of his throat.

“Oh.” You were almost conflicted. “I-”

“Is there someone else?” Aaron never interrupted you, but he had to know, he had to get the hard part out of the way.

Your jaw dropped and your brows dipped low in disbelief, “Wha - what? No!” You scrambled to shove your device in his hand. “There’s no one Aaron, look.” Your head gestured down to your phone and when he did, he felt like an idiot.

There at the top was labeled ‘Penny <3’

“You know… your birthday is coming up soon, and me and Penelope were just trying to plan something nice for you. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t ask me about it because you know I can’t lie to you, and I didn’t want all of Penelope’s hard work to go to waste.”

Oh yeah, he was definitely really fucking embarrassed, but he was also overcome with the overwhelming feeling of shame.

How could he have assumed the worst out of you? All this time you were distant was because you loved him so much to the point where you couldn't keep anything from him.

“Oh, honey I’m sorry.” His voice was thick with remorse, and you only grabbed his large hand and kissed the back of it in response. You felt a cheeky smile tugging on your face.

“I’ll forgive you on one condition.”

“Whatever you want, it’s yours.” You shivered at the satisfying sound.

“You have to act surprised when you walk into the room okay?”

He chuckles but nods, “I promise.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

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slashers-gf · 3 months

Text

I'm here for you... pt2

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Kenji sato x reader

Word count: 3k

Summery: You and kenji are childhood best friends. Kenji hasn't been answering you for several days, and you start to get worried. You go to a good place to see what's happening to him and to try and help him.

“Ah crap..”

He mumbled and looked off to the side awkwardly, avoiding your gaze. He felt like an idiot, sitting here and being all emotional and vulnerable with you while he smelled like trash.

"Wanna tell me you smell like that?" I said, looking at him up and down suspiciously.

Kenji tensed and swallowed hard, feeling like a deer in headlights. He cursed silently, thinking up an excuse in his mind. There was no way in hell he was going to admit what happened..it would be too embarrassing.

“It’s..not important” He muttered, still looking off to the side. He hoped to all things good that you’d drop it, but he had a feeling there’d be no such luck..not with you.

"Mina can you come here please" calling out to the small robot.

Kenji immediately panicked as you suddenly called out for Mina’s assistance. He knew exactly what you were planning and mentally cursed. He should’ve seen this coming, but again, he stupidly forgot about the damn robot.

“Wait no don’t-“

Mina the robot assistant suddenly appeared out of thin air, her usual cheerful facial expression as she looked at you.

“Hello, may I help you?”

"Mina can you tell me why kenji smells like fish and barf?" I asked Mina, waiting for her reply.

Mina turns to look at Kenji, her eyes beeping as she analyzes him

“Mr. Kenji Sato currently has an odor of fish and vomit on his body due to an incident occurring earlier today”

"What incident happened?" I asked Mina again.

Mina continued to beep before answering.“Mr. Kenji Sato attempted to feed the infant Kaiju while not experienced in doing so and was vomited on, explaining why he currently smells the way he does.”

Kenji scowled and sighed in defeat as Mina explained the incident to you, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"Kenji, so you're telling me you have an infant kaiju and you are taking care of it" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. No one has even seen a baby kaiju.

Kenji grumbled and reluctantly nodded at your words. “Yea, I’m taking care of the damn infant kaiju." He mumbled, but I could still understand what he said.

"You never told me about this. That's why you've been ignoring my calls and texts' ' I wasn't mad about it but he couldn’t have asked me for help, I mean I'm his best friend.

Kenji looked away, feeling a pang of guilt as you reminded him of his recent radio silence. He fidgeted awkwardly, knowing that it was cowardly of him to suddenly go dark on you like that.

“Yea..yea that’s why..” He mumbled quietly, avoiding your gaze

"Can I see the kaiju?" I asked, wanting to see what a baby kaiju looked like and see if I can help Kenji In any way I can.

Kenji looked at you skeptically, his dark eyes wary as if questioning your sanity. But after a few moments of silence, he shrugged and got up off the couch.

“Alright fine..c’mon..” *He said and gestured for you to follow him.

I followed right after kenji.

Kenji led you away from the living room and down a hallway. You both walked in silence until you reached a large double door*

“Okay..so..just a heads up she might be sleeping. So keep it quiet if she is..” He said as he pushed open the doors and flicked on the light.

Once I saw her I was in awe. "She is beautiful. What's her name?"

Kenji nodded in agreement. Despite being a literal monster, the Kaiju infant was surprisingly cute…well at least in his eyes she was.

“Yea she’s a cute little thing. Her name is Emi.” he said as he led you further into the room. The room was large and mostly filled with things to keep the baby Kaiju entertained and comfortable. She started to shift and wake up properly because of the lights being turned on.

To be continued...

#kenji sato x reader #ken x reader #ken sato #kenji x reader #ultraman rising #ultraman #netflix #emi sato #fanfic

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dottiro · 2 months

Text

Lethal Pursuer

Unreliable summary: You’re at a club with friends when you meet Ajax—a charming ginger, whose company you’re starting to enjoy. // When your friends abandon you without a way home, Ajax offers you to stay at his place until your friends pick you up. Warnings: Yandere, clubbing, mentions of alcohol, being drugged, kidnapping, GN reader. Note: This is a rewrite of THIS fic from my old blog. Big thanks to @teabutmakeitazure for encouraging me with the emojis and comments on my doc <3

Over the sound of music, a voice calls out to you.

“What’s your name?”

When you turn around, the colourful lights that spin around the club hit a stranger's face. Freckles that were previously hidden appear on the bridge of his nose, creating constellations on his skin before they fade when the lights move.

I’m Y/n. You?”

A pair of dull blue eyes are locked on you. With a boyish smile, the stranger watches you sway to the beats of music echoing around the club.

“I’m Ajax.” He answers as he brushes the ginger hair that had fallen before his eyes. With inspecting eyes you notice a streak of lighter hair amongst his untamed locks.

To your surprise, the name is native to Snezhnaya. However, you can’t help but raise an eyebrow at the unusual clothing and tanning—which are uncommon.

“You’re a local?”

When he tilts his head towards the side, you move closer, repeating your question.

“Morepesok.” His leg bounces unmatched to the beat of the music. With him leaning in closer, you feel the strands of his hair brush against your cheek. “I grew up there. It’s a seaside village. Though, recently, I’ve been spending my days in the capital.”

You repeat his answer in your mind. Morepesok… it sounds familiar.

Ajax leans back, a charming smile spreading along his cheeks as he points at you. Through the sounds of music, you’re unable to hear him.

When he repeats it, you focus on the way his lips part and you understand his words;

‘You?’

You entered the club with friends a few hours before your quid-pro-quo with Ajax. It was a Friday that had lasted an eternity, and once you were cleared from your duties, you decided through text to go clubbing. That way, you could catch up while simultaneously destressing over drinks.

Then, after assigning your designated driver for the night, the alcohol did the rest.

With your friends on the dancefloor, some alcohol buzzing through your body, and the loud music; you were able to forget the stress that had accumulated over the past weeks.

Soon, you found yourself an admirer. Then, a free drink. Then…

“Another one?” You say with a hint of a joke as Ajax approaches—again.

A mischievous smile forms on his lips. He swirls the cup in his left hand while bringing the other to his lips. He teases you. “Don’t tell me, you’re a lightweight?”

You roll your eyes at him.

It’s been a while since you’ve strayed from your friends and found company in your stranger. Though, you suppose ‘strangers’ is no longer the right word for him.

Ajax hands you the cup from his left hand. “You seem tired. Did you have a long day?”

“Yes, but I’m not ready to go home yet.” You take the drink to your lips and let the liquid slide past your lips.

Ajax’s eyes strain when he forces them to move from yours. Between looks, he scans the area. Eventually, he finds a place and gestures his head to the bar. “Need a break? I can search for your friends while you’ll take a rest.”

His offering solidifies that his act of tonight has been genuine.

You can’t help but smile.

“Thank you, but it’s alright. I know you’ll keep me company, right?”

“I’d be offended if you’d assume otherwise.” He places his hands on his hips. A dramatic huff escapes his lips, but you catch the corner of his lip curling into a cheeky smile.

Escaping your problems only works for a short while. Before long, no matter how hard you run, you’re confronted with them again. As much as you love to hang out with your friends—to dance the night away with Ajax, you’ve grown tired of the music and the happy faces, knowing it’s all temporary.

Yet, you hang on as tightly as possible.

Under the colourful lights, you share a brief, knowing, glance; a silent whisper to each other, hoping the night would last for just a while longer.

As you head toward the bar together, the lively atmosphere of the club wraps around you. With most people on the dancefloor and away from the seats, finding a place isolated from the crowd takes no effort.

Settling into a darker corner of the bar, you take a deep breath. Here, the noise of the music and people seems to fade, giving you a sense of privacy amidst the chaos.

Those dark blue eyes meet yours again. This time, the recognition in them speaks volumes.

“So, Ajax.” You emphasise his name, letting the two vowels slur into each other. “What do you do?”

Despite the music being in the background, he furrows his eyebrows and hesitates. With the lack of dancing lights, you can’t grasp the emotion in his eyes. Darkness has cast a shadow over you, making you huddle up to him.

Believing he didn’t hear you, you specify; “Your work?”

The ginger leans back, then forces a smile, and finally raises an eyebrow. “I do a bit of everything, I guess.”

He’s leaning closer again. The smell of his cologne makes you feel dizzy.

Playfully you roll your eyes. The drinks you’ve drank have made you bolder. “Come on, tell me! You can’t say that without expecting me to be curious.”

“Okay, so, I’m serious. Please don’t laugh.” His finger mindlessly caresses the rim of the empty glass on the table. Then, with a look of despair, Childe answers with the unexpected. “I'm a toyseller.”

You put your hand up to your mouth to hide a smile. His answer, not to mention the buildup, makes you unable to hide your chuckle. The thought of him surrounded by stuffed bears and wooden cars creeps into your mind. While it’s a cute scenario, it seems silly when he is physically built to win battles.

Carefully, you remove your hands, revealing a broad smile. “No way. You’re kidding.”

He bashfully smiles and gives a light shrug. “What, you don’t think I’m capable enough? I’ll have you know that my little brother says I’m the best toymaker in Teyvat.”

“You also make them?”

He crosses his arms, leaning forward like you did moments ago, his voice whispering in your ear. “Enough about me. Tell me more about you.”

Your cheeks warm up and you’re grateful for the darkness. “Me? Well…”

Something about his playful yet clumsy attitude leaves you entranced, easing you to open up to him—something that normally doesn't come easy.

“I might've teased you, but at least your life sounds entertaining. My job is hardly anything to boast about. Sure, it brings money, but I hardly get time off and my boss is an uptight prick who thinks he’s above everyone else.”

There is a short silence before you continue,

“At least I can say I’ve decided to chase my dreams. Despite ending up with an ordinary life, I’ve at least escaped my hometown.”

Ajax frowns. “What about your boss?” He spreads his legs further, becoming more intruding physically and in conversation as he unknowingly presses the subject. “Why? Is he giving you any problems?”

You shrug. “It's not like he picks on me specifically. He's the kind of person that can't be pleased, no matter how perfect one might be.”

A silence falls over your perfect stranger.

You try to lighten the air. “Don’t worry about it. Tonight has made me forget all about it. In the end, it’s just work.”

“Yeah,” He forces a smile that fails to hide his frustration with the topic. “Just work.”

“Take it like this; if he didn’t give me such a rough workload, I likely wouldn’t have gone clubbing tonight, which means I would’ve missed meeting you.” You push your elbow against his arm. “So for all the things he does wrong, he did one thing right.”

In the background, you hear the energetic lyrics and melody from the songs. You turn your eyes towards the crowd and fail to see any of your friends.

For the first time since Ajax approached you, you decide to check your phone.

Lockscreen— time: 1:03.

6 missed calls, 99+ unread messages.

What? Is it this late already?

You stand abruptly, leaving your drink unfinished with Ajax. Your eyes fly over the notifications, reading the messages you’ve missed—starting from the first at 21:42 to the last sent at 00:46.

In your group chat, many missed messages cheer for the night.

It starts with a few videos of you and your friends dancing, still together at the start of the night. Then, after an hour, wishes for you and the ‘hot ginger’ to have a ‘safe’ night start. Between the teases, you capture a picture of you and him talking on the dancefloor, still having fun. Then, more pictures and conversations with your drunk friends follow. Until, finally, the message; ‘We went back home, if you need a ride, call us.’

You feel your heart sink to the bottom of your toes.

There is no doubt that your friends are good people. They mean well, meant well, but a feeling of betrayal slithers through the cracks of your love for them. It makes you feel guilty, yet angry with them.

In frustration, you swipe away the notifications for the missed calls.

“Are you alright?” Ajax’s voice is next to you when he speaks. You instinctively turn off your phone and face him. Quickly, he holds up his arms, giving you space. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, that’s not—” You frown. “I didn’t mean to cut our conversation off. I was surprised by the time.”

Ajax lowers his hands to his sides and tries to comfort you. “Did anything happen?”

You close your eyes. Your words come out mangled and wrong. “I think I’m going to go out for a moment. I just saw that my friends left the club without me and I need to call them, or else they’ll pass out and I’ll have no ride home.”

Already a step ahead, Ajax puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. With one arm, he hands you your jacket which went forgotten by you.

“Will you be alright, Y/n?”

A lump forms in your throat and you purse your lips to keep yourself grounded.

Bright lights in many shades hit the side of Ajax’s face, bringing forward his best features, not to mention a strong determined expression. During the night he has in no way forced himself on you, and you consider your choices.

Either you can call your friends and hope for the best as you wait alone outside the club; which will be cold, dark, and uncomfortable for many more reasons. Not to mention that there is no guarantee your friends won't be passed out—they might not pick up. Worst case scenario: you’ll be stranded for the night.

Or (and this option is preferable), you can call your friends and ask Ajax to wait with you. Worst case scenario: he turns out to be a creep and you’ll have to retreat into the club.

You flash your eyes to him once more, finding nothing in them.

Eventually, you decide to let go of your doubt. While it’s not a ride home, Ajax would be at your side, willing to stay there if you’d ask.

You really need to ask for his number before the night ends.

Your fingers subconsciously fiddle with the case of your phone, finding comfort in the repeating motion. “Is it alright if you could stay by my side until I find my friends?” Your eyes dart to the crowd, then back at him. “I’m not in the mood to be bothered by some creep.”

“Of course, I get that.” The lights have left him and his expression is left in the void again. You can guess from his tone he is trying to lighten the mood with a joke. With a puffed-out chest, he bows down slightly. “Tonight, I’ll be your loyal knight.”

The lights and people blur into one mass. Since he’s taller and broader, you follow Ajax’s lead as he paves a way through the crowd, helping you avoid bumping into distracted or drunk clubbers.

When he opens the doors and you step outside, the harsh Snezhnayan breeze hits your face, making your mind clearer within a moment.

“Huh, it seems like most people have already left.” Ajax lets the door fall behind him as he looks around the area. “There are hardly any people left.”

Clinging onto your jacket, you resist a shiver from the cold. “Compared to the club, even Our Majesty’s palace can be considered empty.”

He turns around. “Let’s go to the side. We wouldn’t want to block the exit for any drunk people.”

Compared to the space you have just left, the abandoned streets in Snezhnaya are as silent as a graveyard. Only a few people linger around; either sitting in the snow against the buildings or smoking in a group.

Snowflakes from the night sky dance down, falling on your head and melting against your skin. Tonight’s clouds are broken apart and far from each other. When you look up, you can see the stars in the sky.

“What happened?” Childe asks as he guides you through the snow.

“With my friends?” He nods. “I think they misunderstood the situation. Jumped to conclusions and decided they knew what was fact before I could respond.”

“I can’t defend them, but I know they must be good people if they’re your friends.” Childe kicks the snow in front of his feet. His hands are in his pocket and a puff of air escapes his lips. “Try to stay calm. I’m sure they’re waiting for your call.”

You stop at the corner of the club. On your phone, you click open the group app’s information to reveal the contacts of everyone. Without much hesitation, you open the number of your designated driver—and supposedly the only one sober.

When you push the call button, Ajax takes a few steps back to give you privacy.

After a few long moments, you reach voicemail.

“You good over there?” When you look at Childe, he also has a phone in hand. His lower back is leaning onto the side of the building, watching you pace back and forth on the pavement.

“Yeah, but it went to voicemail.” You focus on your phone again. “I’ll try someone else.”

With haste, you dial the next friend. They’re not sober but knowing how often they look on their phone, they’re likely to pick up.

Unfortunately, again; voicemail.

You frown and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach grows bigger. The last text message had been 30 minutes ago. They should be home by now.

“Nothing?”

You look up at Ajax. Once again, you shake your head.

“Hey, it’s okay. If you want we can go back inside and wait till they call back?” Ajax puts his phone in his pocket and walks up to you. When he’s at your side he puts a hand on the small of your back, rubbing it back and forth to bring you warmth.

You put your hands in your hair and walk away from him, only to pace back. “I’m just worried something has happened. This sucks, but it’s so unlike them. I can’t imagine them leaving me behind in a club like this.”

“I…” He hesitates, “I might not have a car to drive you home, but if you’re comfortable enough, I live nearby. You can send my address to your friends and crash there until they call. Only if you want to, of course. I can wait with you in the club if you'd rather.”

Your first instinct is to reject him and to continue calling, trusting your friends will pick up eventually. Then, you realise you’re too drunk to find help elsewhere, lest you’d want to trust the bartenders who have their hands full and will have you crash in the back of the club without surveillance.

And on your face, these thoughts must come through, because Ajax shakes his hands before him. “Just an offering. A stupid one, maybe. But a genuine one. Again, if you’d prefer, I can wait with you here. I thought you might consider something else because you’ve been swaying for a while now.”

Through his rushed words, you realise your options are narrowing down. Could you walk home? Are you drunk to the point where you’re unable to stand? A warm home to wait in does sound nice…

Plus, Ajax is nice, right?

The headache that’s been looming over you intensifies.

“Okay, but let me message your address to my friends first. So, they know where to pick me up, ”

Snowflakes from the sky twirl down until they land on the ground.

Patiently, he watches you open the location app. Then, when you ask for it, he tells you his address—which is close to the club as promised. The soles of his shoes tap against the pavement as he watches the brightness of your screen flash. —You’ve sent it to your friends.

You turn off your phone and drop it in your pocket once you’re done.

“I just wanted to say this out loud so you can’t say I’m leading you on, but I’m only joining you to wait until my friends can pick me up. That’s alright, right?”

Childe doesn’t miss the hesitation in your eyes when you look at him.

Deep inside, hidden in an abyss, he wants to tear away all your doubts and carve his name for you to trust. Deep inside, he hopes you know he’d conquer the world in your name—if only you’d let him.

Then, as soon as it comes, it leaves. Ajax gives you a boyish grin. “Of course. It’d hardly be justified if I were to leave you abandoned here, so it’s the least I can do.”

The sound of his carefree voice is enough to make that warm feeling return, and for a split second, you believe you saw the stars reflected in his eyes. Though, it must’ve been the lighting, because when the shadows fall upon him again, it fades away.

Before you walk out of the street, Childe puts one of his arms out with a playful wink.

You intertwine yours around it.

The streets are empty and dark, but silence does not fill them in Ajax’s presence.

Noticing your stress early on, he asks silly questions to bring your mind away from negative thoughts, returning you to the start of the night; enjoying his presence, and feeling light.

Innocent questions; ‘Hey, what’s your favourite colour?’, teasing ones; ‘Got an eye on anyone at the moment?’, and serious follow;

“You should get better friends. What would’ve happened if you were all alone? It’s concerning no one called back.”

The streetlights set for a sober mood. Empty streets, dark homes and a dimly lit sidewalk.

You frown at the pavement below your feet.

“They didn’t abandon me. They assumed I went home with you and then decided to leave themselves.”

A chuckle leaves his lips and he turns his head to you with a tilt. “You didn’t strike me as someone who’d go home with some guy from the club.”

“I don’t,” You trip over your words, not wanting to offend Ajax. “Well, not normally.”

“If you want, we can always return to the club. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You had walked a while with the world swaying from side to side. A few more houses and you’d be at his home, yet he offers to take return if you feel uncomfortable.

He is almost too nice.

“No, I’m alright.” You smile before frowning. “I guess I’m a bit worried though.”

“About your friends?”

You nod. “The situation feels off.”

You’re unsure why it does.

On your side, Ajax stares straight ahead. He gestures forward. “My home is at the end of this street. I don’t have a car, but I can call a friend in the morning to drive you home. It’s only a few more hours till sunrise. Think you can hold out for a bit longer?”

You smile when you turn to face him. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that. And—” You shake your hands in front of you and an awkward laugh escapes your lips. “I’m sorry about this mess.”

He shrugs. “I had no reason to stay in the club, at least, until I saw you. Once you were stranded, I knew I could offer help, so I did. There is nothing more to it.”

“Were you not with friends though?” You raise an eyebrow at the thought of someone coming to the club alone. Though, perhaps, that’s your prejudices talking.

“I know the owner of the club. He sometimes bartends himself, though—lucky for you, he didn’t have a shift today, so I was fortunate to have spotted you.”

He cuts himself off and turns his hand towards a house towards the right, stopping in front of it with a smile. If this is his home, it’s surprisingly ordinary. Hidden amongst other houses, it goes unnoticed. There are no decorations in front of the windows, nothing at all.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Childe says dramatically while he jokingly bows. “It’s nothing big—, but we all have to start somewhere, right?”

He grabs a single key from his pockets. There’s no charm attached, no other keys.

As weird as it looks, you don’t comment on it.

With a twist of his wrist, Ajax opens the door, holding it and gesturing for you to come in.

“Feel free to leave your jacket anywhere, shoes too if they bother you.” He throws you a smile over his shoulder as he walks further into the house. You hear him exclaim, “Mi casa, es tu casa.”

Before you enter the place, you check your phone once more.

No new messages or missed calls. Angrily you send a message, updating and explaining you’ll get a ride from one of his friends if yours keeps ignoring you.

In another one, you send a few crying emojis, followed by a single angry one.

Once some of your embarrassment is thrown at your friends, you put the phone in your pocket and close the door when you walk in.

The hallway leading up further into the house is dimly lit. On the side, a set of stairs goes up, indicating another level, as you assumed from the height outside. The walls are painted a cream colour and are devoid of any hanging decorations. You see a set of formal shoes tucked underneath a chest of drawers.

When you walk along the hallway, you notice under the stairs another door—possibly leading up to an attic, although, that’s speculation. Then, at the end of the hallway, a bright light shines through the cracks of the door Ajax had entered.

When you enter the living room you see him fly around in the kitchen. It’s nothing grand and fairly empty compared to your living arrangement, although in theme with the bland hallway.

You realise he must spend the majority of his time away from home—using the house only to sleep and eat in.

“Here,” Tartaglia turns around with a glass of water, followed by a white pill in his other hand. “You mentioned you were feeling unwell so I thought a painkiller would help you settle down.”

With a smile and a thank you, you accept the offer; downing the pill and water nearly instantly. After you place the empty glass on the kitchen table, you feel drowsiness kick in. You shrug it off to exhaustion.

“Feel free to look around.” Childe walks by you. “It’s past midnight so all the good TV programs are gone, but if you’re interested in commercials, feel free to turn it on.”

“You’re still on cable?” You look at the bulky television which contradicts his brand-new still-sparkling phone.

Childe looks at the bulky box with you. “What? Not standard?”

“No way.”

Your eyes move to the other things in the living room. Closer to the window and facing the television, two small sofas stand coated in dust. A small rounded table divides them, giving enough room to walk in front of the television to reach the window, and possibly, the thick curtains.

Gently, you place your jacket over one of the sofas before wandering further.

Placed against the wall is a single bookshelf. It’s filled with many books, related to classical literature or military topics—something you didn’t expect but don’t judge upon. Further, you notice the thin layer of dust, making the clean picture frames stand out.

“Are these your siblings?”

You grab the picture in your hands and lift it closer. A young boy, with the same ginger-coloured hair, smiles into the lens. His eyes are open and noticeably brighter than Ajax’s. Next to him is a girl with similar features, longer hair, and the same smile—although her eyes are closed instead.

Behind the two children stands Ajax wearing formal clothes.

Military? No, different.

Childe hums as he approaches you. “Yes, Teucer and Tonia. Though, they’ve both grown significantly since this picture was taken. I have a few older siblings as well.”

He reaches for another picture frame, set higher. After brushing his finger against the glass he shows it to you. “Here are the others.”

With slow movements, you take the picture frame from his hands. Your fingers move across the picture. He’s much smaller here, but it’s still undoubtedly Ajax.

“You seem so… happy.”

“I was much younger then. Teucer was still a baby so should’ve been, what, twelve?”

After committing the picture to memory, you place them in their original spots.

When you move to place the higher picture, your head spins. Fortunately, you quickly rebalance yourself.

With a few harsh blinks, you’re able to ease the spinning. You quickly take another picture frame to distract yourself.

After a quick look, you realise this picture seems different.

“Who’s this? Teucer?”

Ajax shakes his head. “No. That’s me.”

The ginger in the picture has the same spread of freckles Ajax does. His hair is in the same wild style as he wears it now, but he misses the streak of white.

Another thing you can’t help but notice is the difference in his smile.

There is no doubt that Ajax had fun tonight, but his smile never lit up to the smile of this smaller boy.

In the picture, at his side, you see a child of the same age.

Even from this picture, it is safe to assume that Ajax was social, if not sometimes obnoxious, when younger. In comparison, this child seems more shy and reclusive. Their head is turned away and you can’t make out their appearance, except for their hair colour.

You point your finger towards the figure. “And this?”

While brushing your finger over the glass, you wonder how the two met. Were they no longer friends? Is this the only picture he has of them?

Ajax is silent.

He mumbles something under his breath.

When you hum in confusion, he speaks louder.

“You don’t remember?”

You turn your gaze up to him. Your mind remains unsteady and you feel your vision blur again. Like last time, you try to force it away. However, this time you fail and lose your balance.

When you try to break your fall by stepping backwards, you lose all your strength in your legs. You feel them shake as the world spins back, your vision turning from the books on the shelves to the stained ceiling.

With a loud crash, the frame falls to the ground, breaking beyond repair by the sounds of it.

Your crash, however, does not happen.

“▓re yo▒ alr▓▒ht?”

When your eyes flutter open, you are met with Ajax’s blue eyes. His arms are around you, one supporting your back, and the other wrapped around you to keep you steady on your weak limbs.

“...what?”

His voice blurs in and out.

You’re only able to make out mumbles.

You barely register moving to the sofa.

You do however clearly hear your ringtone.

Gathering any strength you have left, you reach for your pocket, instinctively moving to accept the call.

With a slurred voice you answer, “Hello?”

“Y/░. Li▒▒▓n, y░u ne▓d to ▓et aw░y Rig▓t. ▓ow.”

You blink a few times. “...what?”

“▒e’s o▒▓ of the H▓rbi▒gers, the Fatui—“

Th▒ phone call ends ▓bruptly.

The phone ▓s taken fr▒m your hands.

You friends—

Thoughts r▒ce into your m▒nd.

D▓d you hear it c▓rrectly? Fat▒i? ▓re your fri▓nds in d▓ng▓r? Did you h░t yo░r he▓d? W░y is ▒v▒ryt▓▓ng f▓d▒ng?

Y▓u se▓ ▓ sp▓t of ░r░nge-br▒wn, bl▓░, ░nd g▓▓y m▓v▓ int░ y▒ur v░s▓▒n, ▓nd th░▒—

“Goodnight.”

You wake up surrounded by blankets and pillows. The bed you wake in is foreign. So is the harsh light that peaks out from between the cracks of the curtains. Your head continues to hurt, but after remembering the loud music from last night, you don’t blame it.

Once the initial fear of an unknown place fades away, you can deduct what has happened.

This must be Ajax’s room…

The king-sized pencil post bed is filled with blankets and warmth. On each side is a nightstand with a lamp. The closest to you has a glass of water. The other is empty.

When you step out of bed, you notice a sudden drop in temperature, although it’s not unexpected. Without any other sounds, the breeze coming in from the window is quite loud. Since there is no sign of Ajax in this room, you assume he must’ve slept on the couch, forgetting to close the window during the night as a result.

A chill falls over you, but there is no harm in it.

You’re grateful for Ajax allowing you to sleep in his bed.

With your arms wrapped around you, you approach the window—feeling like closing the windows now might help Ajax later. But, when you open the curtains to close it for him, you’re met with something… astonishing.

An abundance of white stretches in front of the house. It is undisturbed by footsteps from passing strangers or animals, creating a serene picture with the help of the treeline made from tall pines. Unlike what you remember, it seems as if you’re on the ground floor of the building, on an equal level to the world outside.

If you didn’t know better, you’d believe you were in the middle of a forest.

But… you aren’t.

You turn around, moving to the window on the other side of the room. When you open the curtains, you’re met with the same sight. Snow and trees. Your eyes confirm this is real, but your mind can’t grasp how it could be. You move your head around, seeing if you can catch any clues in the corner of your vision.

There are no forests anywhere near the club. Not within walking distance, and only miles outside of the capital.

Where are you?

Snowflakes catch on the outside of the window, and you decide to close it.

Further in the room, you notice a set of wardrobes. Like the other furniture, the room seems divided into two. Two nightstands, two wardrobes, two windows…

After a few helpless spins and trying to grasp your mind around the current situation, you decide to test your luck by searching around.

First, you try to open the wardrobe to the right.

You twist the round door handle, but it doesn’t bulge. When you try the other, it opens.

The inside seems normal. Ajax’s clothes are all neatly folded or hung. You see a variety of outfits for different occasions. Some are more casual, though you see suits as well.

You lift a few piles of shirts, finding nothing out of the ordinary.

With a sigh, you close the door.

A wardrobe full of clothes. So much for answers.

You turn back around and try the same for the nightstands. You find a single toothbrush, an unused brush, and a small mirror inside the nightstand on the right—the side you woke up from.

The other nightstand is more peculiar.

Inside the drawer, you find a letter addressed to “Ajax”. The handwriting is clumsy as if a child had written it. When you turn it around, you see signs of ageing despite it being preserved well.

Without any words, you deduct that this item is of great importance to him.

With a hint of guilt, you put it back amongst the handful of other letters.

Then, the only door left is the one leading outside.

You cross the room, and once opened, you are met by a short hallway. The walls and floors are made from sturdy wood, like the bedroom you exited. The thought of being inside a cabin crosses your mind for a second.

Quietly, you close the door behind you before continuing.

Unlike what you remember, this house appears to be a one-floor building. There are no stairways leading down, and the place has many windows allowing you to see the forest surrounding you and bringing in natural light.

When the hallway ends and connects to a large living room, you see Ajax on the couch asleep.

And given your lack of knowledge on how you ended up here, you decide it’s lucky that your presence goes unnoticed.

Your eyes graze over the living room. It is cosy—homey in many ways. Unlike the bookshelves you remember, these are filled with novels and stories from your childhood; fairytales, romance novels, fantasies, and nearly every other genre you can imagine.

A large square carpet muffles your footsteps as you walk closer to the large table in the middle of the room. Thrown over the back of one of the chairs is your jacket, at its feet; your shoes, and in front of it on the table…

Your phone.

You turn your head to Ajax. He hasn’t moved since you walked into the room. He is still asleep.

Carefully you walk closer.

Unlike what the situation makes you expect to have happened, your phone remains as you remember. It has a low battery percentage but can survive for at least a few more hours if you turn on saving mode.

You open your messages.

○ Has anyone heard from Y/n? ○ Not since last night. I heard someone had a run-in with the Fatui, what was that about? ○ Yeah, I heard that too. Can everyone reply ASAP?? ○ I told you to keep an eye out for each other. How do 4 people go missing in one night? ○ Do we file a report? Like, for missing people? ○ File a report??? To whom? The Fatui??

You scroll down, reaching the most recent message in the early morning. When you type a short sos, it goes undelivered. When you try again, you’re met with the same outcome.

There is no available internet.

It seems you’re too far from civilisation to have access to a network.

And finally, you try to call.

The entire service has been cut.

This makes you panic. Rightfully so. With a quick look out of the windows, you’re met with the sight of the forest taunting you. You’re in an unfamiliar place and your memories do not add up to the current situation.

You turn around to check up on Ajax.

“Your phone won’t work here.”

He sits upright on the couch. A strand of hair sticks out. He really had been asleep, and somehow, you had woken him up.

He adds, “I’ve got cable TV, though.”

His voice isn’t laced with much of anything. There are no signs of exhaustion or sleep, no emotions either.

He is clear of mind; as if everything is normal—expected.

You narrow your eyes and your mouth gapes open. A whisper falls out of you. “...what?”

Ajax lets his head hang. A troubled sigh escapes his lips before he stands up.

In response, you take a step back.

He stops for a moment. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The snappy tone in his voice puts you on edge.

In turn, you react similarly.

“Then what is going on? Where are we?”

“I suppose you weren’t lying.” He circles the couch, coming into full view to face you. “You did forget me.”

You furrow your eyebrows.

“Sit with me, please.” Ajax sits back down, patting the place next to him as he looks back at you.

You move your eyes from him to the couch. There is no malice in his words. With no one to call out to, you feel as if the best move is to be compliant for as long as he remains kind.

You sit on the place furthest away from him.

“Do you know how hard it is to find someone without a name or information? Ever since I grew strong enough to search, for years… I’ve been trying to find you.”

A broken picture frame lies on the low table near the couch. On top of it, is a picture you vaguely remember from last night.

Childe lets a chuckle escape his lips. He is desperate, clinging onto hope for you to believe him. “You can’t remember?”

“Ajax…” You shake your head, and he tries to cut you off. “I do not know you. I don’t know where I am or how I got here, but I would appreciate it if you’d bring me back, now.”

Childe scooches closer, leaning forward and reaching for you. “It’s fine, I’m not upset. I’m sure you’ll remember me if we talk a bit more. After all, last night was like all those years ago. Surely you remember how much fun we had as kids? During the winters when my family would visit your town, you’d always seek me out.”

You pull away, and a serious expression falls upon his face, something that’s unlike him—something foul.

“Stop that. You know I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Can you promise that?” You narrow your eyes at him before diverting your eyes. His eyes are too empty. Ajax has nothing to give, nothing but a mask made of lies. “I don’t know where I am or what happened, you refuse to tell me what’s going on, and I don’t trust you.”

“But you should.”

A cold silence falls into the room.

“I missed you. And I know you don’t, but you will.”

He says it in such a gentle voice, you’re unsure what to make of it.

Inch by inch, he comes closer until you’re sitting side by side.

Ajax wraps his arms around you, and you let him.

He’s unable to bring any comfort when tears escape your eyes.

Confused.

Scared.

ㅤ

A broken picture frame lies on the low table near the couch.

On top of it, is a picture of a young Ajax and a child with the same hair colour as you.

285 notes · View notes

cutestzombiee · 24 days

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synopsis— this is a part 2 of “what’s that supposed to mean?”

a/n— I did not expect so many people to like the first part and want a 2nd part .I thought it was going to going to flop. But thank you guys sm! As always there may be errors so pls forgive me. Likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated!

It had been about 2 weeks since you left gojo. You had been staying at his best friends, geto’s house. You were wearing getos clothes nice all of your was at your apartment that gojo is currently living in. Gojo had called you a few times, but you never answered. You weren’t sure what he wanted with you, but frankly, you didn't care what he had to say. You sat on the sugurus couch. The house filled with silence. All you could hear was the sound of your beating heart. Your mind ran through what happened that night over and over again until you couldn't even remember your own name.

you were snapped out of your thoughts about gojo when you heard the door click open and getos soft voice. "Hey .. im back, I brought us some food. " Geto had been trying to comfort you with all your favorite foods and just be by your side during this hard time.

"Thanks, suguru.. really, " you gave him a weak smile. Suguru set down his keys before he set the bag of food down on the coffee table in front of you.

"Listen.. I know that you're still heart broken about gojo and all, but he's coming here later. He said he wanted to talk to me about something. " he sounded reluctant to tell you that Gojo was coming and for good reason.

You nod your head as he spoke. He sucked in a deep breath before you spoke. Your throat was itchy because of all the crying you have been doing for the past 2 weeks. "I understand geto, ill leave after I eat." Your weak smile pulled at Geto's heart strings. He truly couldn't reason why he even let you stay so long. Geto felt bad for you, of course, but there was something else he felt for you, but he just couldn't understand what it was.

Before geto could stop himself, he quickly spoke, "You dont have to leave, sweetheart..." he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "You can stay in my bedroom while he's here. I can't fathom letting that idiot drive you out of here, too. " You finally let out a real smile as you sniffle. For the first time in 2 weeks, you felt like you finally had someone that was on your side.

"Should we eat?" You ask whike smiling. Geto, let's go of your hand as he starts working the bag open.

2 HOURS LATER

You and geto had eaten and watched movies for a while before gojo texted suguru he was in his way. "Stay here, sweetheart. I'll come get you myself, " Geto reassured you as he gave your shoulder a soft squeeze.

"I'll be here waiting.. and geto thank you, really I'm very grateful for everything you have done for me. " Geto couldn't fathom how stupid Gojo was for letting someone like you out of his sight. God, if you were his, he would never let you leave his apartment.

Sugurus train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing. He quickly said his goodbyes and answered his front door.

You sat on Getos bed and stared at the closed bedroom door. The mere thought of gojo being just a few feet away from you made you want to throw up. As time passed, it felt like hours, but in reality, it had only been a few minutes.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard gojo and getos' voice gradually get closer and closer to the door. You can hear geto say "cmon dude don't go in there really just go wait in the living room ill get it for you".

Before Geto could even stop him, Gojo flung the door open. His eyes immediately widen as he sees you sitting comfortably on Sugurus bed.

"what the fuck are you doing here?"

edit!: prt 3

tags!! @ourfinalisation @96jnie @qashmer @sugurugirlie @gollumsmygel @ritzes28

#bibi!—writes #jjk fanfic #jjk suguru #geto suguru #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jjk x reader #geto x reader #gojo angst #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satorugojo

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seeingivy · 9 months

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intimacy

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends older brother fic

previous part linked here

sukuna wakes up three hours later to the bright light of your phone, and more distinctively, your right hand in his hair, brushing his pink locks away from his forehead. he blinks the sleep out of his eyes properly to find you sitting criss crossed within the sheets, hunched over on your phone, with your face scrunched up in frustration.

he half considers not broaching why you’re awake at this hour just to ensure that your touch wouldn’t cease. that you’d continue tangling your fingers with his hair.

“what’s your problem?” he asks.

you retreat your hand from his hair, wincing as you mumble out your apology. sukuna muses that you were almost getting too predictable.

“did i wake you up?” you ask.

sukuna scoots closer to you on the bed, before lifting one of your legs to readjust himself. he’s settled himself right in between the softness of your thighs, before he reaches for your hand again and sets it back into his hair.

you swallow commenting on how needy he is as you comb through the tresses of his hair, noting how he seems to soften into your legs the more pressure you apply.

“what’s so important on your phone that you’re interrupting my sleep?” he mumbles.

“sorry. was just texting megumi. i was supposed to call yuuji when he got home but it kind of slipped my mind.” you respond, before setting your phone down into the sheets and placing your other hand into his hair too.

“something distracting you?”

sukuna grins as he flips over, lifting his head to rest his chin against your stomach. he places a kiss to your clothed skin before giving you a sleepy smile.

“clearly.” you respond.

“he’s okay?”

“yeah. i’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“nothing i could help him with i suppose. no one understands shitty older siblings like the two of you.”

you tense underneath him, enough for him to wish he minced his words. sukuna knew that broaching any part of that, of something almost sacred between yuuji was something he couldn’t push you on. though it wasn’t hard to deduce - your horrid attempts at whispering in the kitchen weren’t lost to him.

“hey. he loves you. it’s not like that.”

“what was it he said? sitting all high and mighty?”

you sigh, and enough for sukuna to properly open his eyes and sit up.

“i’m joking.” he adds.

sukuna can tell his words aren’t enough. it usually takes very little, a mix of sweet talking to settle you down, which makes him happier than he can admit. only because it indicates to him that his words can hold so much weight, especially to you.

“i mean it. you guys are well past that. have been since you came back.” you murmur.

sukuna knows that you’re right. that despite the fact that yuuji never talked to sukuna in the four years he was gone, despite his best efforts to reach out, their relationship was nearly repaired the second he made it back to tokyo. and it means more since the two of them getting along would mean something to you now.

sukuna left when he was sixteen and made his best efforts not to regret it now.

behind everyone’s backs, he had taken an early exit out of his required schooling and applied to a four year boarding school in europe. he had only dropped the news to everyone five days before he left, in efforts to not let the crippling sense of servitude he felt towards his family hold him back.

“were you mad i left?” he murmurs, pushing up on his elbows, his breath tickling your neck.

“no.”

“did you miss me?” he asks.

it’s a selfish question. sukuna knows that the answer should be no. that it is no. but he’ll pretend your honey sweet answer, laced with a lie, is true for the night. that you’ll tell him exactly what he wants to hear - that you thought of him constantly when you left.

“i was sad you left without saying goodbye. but i was too busy worrying about my own sister and all that.”

sukuna can tell the answer is honest. and it’s satiating enough to know that you had noted it, that you were hurt that he hadn’t given you more importance before he made his escape. that you wanted to be important to him.

“is that why you haven’t told yuuji? that we’re dating? breaks some secret pact you both have?”

you smile.

“are we dating?” you whisper.

sukuna lightly pushes you over, before leaning on top of you and nuzzling his face into your arms. his legs are tangled to the side, his pressure soothing on your chest.

“are you seeing other guys i don’t know about?” he asks.

“of course.” you joke.

sukuna brings his hand down on your neck, his one hand sliding around the length of your neck. he squeezes slightly and you feign choking before he rolls his eyes.

“shut up, brat.”

“well. you never asked. you can’t just decide we’re dating.” you state.

“i won’t ask.” he mumbles.

“ask.” you prod.

“no.”

“ask me!”

“i already decided we were dating a long time ago. catch up.”

you figure that if sukuna can test you, push your buttons to get what he wants, so can you. and you imagine that it’ll be infinitely easier, that it’ll take less work from you when he’s barely awake. you bring your hands around his cheeks, before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“please?” you whisper.

sukuna groans.

“be my girlfriend.” he states.

“that’s not asking.”

“y/n.”

“c’mon.” you prod.

he glares at you.

“be. my girlfriend.” he repeats, more sternly.

“cute. but no.” you respond.

sukuna glares for three seconds and you cave.

“sorry! i’m sorry. fine. i was just messing with you so i’d feel better.” you respond, to which he releases his gaze.

he pauses.

“do you need to feel better?”

“hm?”

if you’re upset, that’s certainly one thing he can fix.

“do you need me to make you feel good?” he asks.

it’s something that’s been on your mind, more frequently than not. and it lingers for too long, that feeling that you’re denying him something, that there’s something he’s waiting for that you haven’t yet delivered.

yuuji talks. so does megumi. and the two years of highschool that you got with sukuna were enough.

sukuna was always an overachiever, as he so poignantly coined it. he was smart. smart enough to graduate early even, to get into an exchange program and get out of the suburbs. he was athletic, his attitude towards teachers was viewed as charming rather than plucky, and obviously he wasn’t short of being attractive, of having girls interested in him.

you distinctly remember his first school dance when you were a eighth grader. or more importantly, that sukuna was dressed up in a tux, having his tie fixed by his mom while you and yuuji quietly watched him attend the senior prom. as a sophomore.

yuuji mentioned that sukuna always seemed to be sleeping around, something corroborated by the fact that he was almost always talking to a different girl almost every time you saw him. megumi thought he was trashy even.

but here he was, being patient, being painstakingly patient, that it only felt right. that you had to reward him for it.

“okay. sure.”

sukuna’s fully awake now, his eyes meeting yours as you feel a shiver go down your spine.

“are you okay with this?”

“yeah. yeah, i am.”

“and you’ll tell me to stop if you stop being okay with it?” he states.

you give him a nod, slightly embarrassed that it was something he had to confirm. like he knew you were going to chicken out of it.

“i need to hear you say it.” he whispers.

“i will.” you mumble.

you’re almost positive that sukuna doesn’t do this with every other girl he’s been with - something confirmed in your mind by the fact that sukuna’s so gentle, his touch is so perfect, that you feel you’re never going to be able to let go of him. and can’t imagine that other people have let him slip out of his grasp.

it’s not too different from the other times sukuna’s touched you - something he tends to always be doing. he’s more affectionate than you expected, for someone who was so reserved, so stern in almost every memory you have of him.

but he uses endearments, pet names almost every time he talks to you - currently whispering words that make your entire body heat up, almost more than his hands on you.

“my pretty baby’s so wound up. let me fix that for you, hm?”

his words were almost enough to make your entire body heat up more than his hands. key word, almost. but there was something about his touch, so soft, firm in different places that it made you nearly limp in his arms.

his hands were in your hair, on your legs just to pull you closer to him, resting on your cheeks when he kissed you. your predictions suggested to you that sukuna would have bored out, tired from just kissing you when you had given him full permission for the first time, but he wouldn’t let up, making it a point to kiss every patch of skin he could.

it’s only then that it occurs to you that you haven’t touched him. you lift your hands, before freezing them in the air, unable to do it. but the shifting is enough to make sukuna stop.

“you still okay?”

“yeah. yeah, i was just-” you respond, catching your breath as he smiles.

“your hands were up. you can push me off if it gets to be too much.” he whispers, pulling back.

“no. no, i was…i was going to touch you. just got shy for a second…”

sukuna grins at you, before leaning his forehead against yours. he tries his best to ground himself in the moment, realizing he was going too fast, getting too carried away too quickly.

he can smell the remnants of your shampoo in your hair, focusing in on it, before he settles both of his hands into the crooks of each of your elbows.

“you can touch me.” he murmurs.

“okay. you-you’ll stop me right? if you feel weird?” you ask.

sukuna laughs.

“i can’t imagine i’d ever do that, but yes. i will stop you.”

you give him a satisfied nod, as you reach forward and scoot into his lap. his hands instinctively reach for your waist, holding you steady, as you inspect his tattoos in the dim light of the dark.

you reach forward and trace your fingers all the way down. you had only seen them peeking out from the collar of his shirt here and there, but this was your chance to look at them properly.

“did you get these all at the same time?” you ask.

“no. most of them are from when i was gone. this one right here-”

he guides your hand to the left side of your chest, placing your palm flat against his beating heart before letting go.

“-was right when i came back.”

“s’pretty. you’re pretty.” you mumble.

you instinctively squeeze, before the two of you quietly laugh.

“did you just cop a feel?” sukuna asks.

“maybe. seemed squishy.”

“and was it?”

“no. it was really underwhelming.” you respond, earning another laugh from him.

it’s almost too gratifying, the smaller things - making him laugh, seeing him smile. it was so rare to see it before and the fact that he does it for you, does it so freely, is enough to make your stomach fill with an embarrassing amount of warmth.

“your turn?” he asks, voice so low you can barely hear it.

you nod, that biting wave of anxiety instantly hitting you when sukuna’s hands slither under your tank top. his lips find their way back to yours, his breath heavy on your face as you try to swallow it down and let him keep going.

sukuna makes every effort to drag this on for as long as he can, for multiple reasons. so that your standards were never lowered, so that you’d never settle for callous hands and shitty guys in bars - not that he’d ever think you’d talk to anyone but him ever again. that he’d let anyone else see you like this.

sukuna felt like he was slowly figuring you out like you were the back of his hand. you always seemed to be withholding something, almost like it was a wall right there with him in the room, but that let him in when he knocked. and right now, he had every intent to make you feel good. to reward you for trusting him. to savor you.

he notices the trembling when he brings his hands up to your chest, when he lets them linger for too long. it’s so slight, almost in par with your breathing, but he notices it and immediately pulls back.

“are you still okay?” he asks.

the hesitation in your response is enough of an answer for him. he swallows down the dry patch in his throat - nearly cursing himself for going too far, too fast with you exactly where he knew you were reserved - before he brings his hands up to your cheeks, trying to get you to meet his eyes.

“what can i do?” he whispers.

“i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to, it was-”

“tell me how to make it better. what do you need right now?”

it’s almost embarrassing to ask for it. to make him overextend, to attend to you when you were the one who ruined the moment. and it felt increasingly stupid for you to push your own boundaries too, that you were going to scare him off now.

“please.” he whisper.

you look up to find his brown eyes, washed over in concern, as he cups the left side of your face. it’s enough to push you.

“do you have a shirt i can wear? this just feels too…”

“yes. do you need a long sleeve or-”

“short is okay.”

“do you need me to wear one too?” he asks.

you sigh.

“could you? i just feel…”

before you can even finish your sentence, sukuna’s pushed himself off the bed and rummages quickly through his closet before he returns. he snags his own shirt over his neck before sitting back down on the bed in front of you, his voice soft.

“arms up, pretty girl.”

you oblige, as sukuna pulls the shirt over you, his hands shaking as he dutifully attends to you. he’s pulling the sleeves down to your elbows, the fabric drowning every inch of your body as he readjusts it.

the two of you sit in silence, your hand curled into his as you try to muster out the best words to say. to selfishly, keep him around you.

“i’m not very good at this intimacy type of thing. i-i’m not sure if you’ve noticed.”

some part of your guard is down. the curious part of him wants to push, to crawl all the way in and never leave. but he makes his best efforts. to remain persistent in letting you make the calls here.

“explain.”

“i just mean. you always kiss me first. and-and you kiss me a lot. i really like it, but sometimes i think it’s weird if i initiate it first. like-like it’ll keep going.”

“i’ll always kiss you back, if that’s what you mean…”

“no. no, it’s…it’s kind of embarrassing to admit. like logically, i know it won’t happen. but you’re a guy. you…you have lots of experience and you obviously like to do things like this. a lot of people do. it-it’s normal. but sometimes i feel, in the moment, like i’m not ready to do all of that yet. to go farther…”

sukuna understands. he pulls his hand under your chin, using the knuckles of his pointer finger to guide your line of vision back to him.

“you call the shots. always.”

“i know.”

“i don’t expect anything from you. if you just want to kiss me, i am more than happy to just kiss you, y/n.” he whispers.

you can feel the tears in your eyes at sukuna’s tone. and the way his face falls at the sight of your tears is enough to make you fully cry.

“princess. who’s got you thinking like this?” he murmurs.

sukuna’s not one for words. though it seems he seems to always have the ones that fit just right. his thumbs are brushing away the wetness on your cheek, before he leans down and presses a kiss to your nose.

“you know that i’m more experienced than you. so will you give weight to my words when i say them?”

“okay.”

“intimacy can mean lots of things. having sex is intimacy, sure. that’s a no brainer. but…there’s so much more to it. i can promise you, you aren’t bad at being intimate with me.”

“really?”

it’s the fact that it's three in the morning. that’s what sukuna will pin it on tomorrow. why he feels the need, why it feels so easy to talk so freely with you. that and the fact that he feels the need to lick each and every one of your wounds, to smooth over the rough patches.

“i felt close to you at the dinner last night. when you were holding my hand under the table. you squeezed really hard when your mom was hurting your feelings, almost like you were trying to tell you that it made you upset…that’s intimacy to me.”

“are you trying to butter me up? don’t make stuff up.” you jokingly respond, earning a wide smile from him.

“you were relying on me. telling me something. that’s intimate.”

he reaches forward, pulling the hair out of the collar of the shirt before tucking it behind your ears.

“i know that’s hard for you to do. i appreciate it when you can do that, when you trust me.”

you swallow hard, before putting your hand back where it was resting before, over the beating of his heart.

“i trust you. just…give me time to figure out the words?”

“it’s not a race. i’m not planning on going anywhere.”

"promise?" you ask, holding out your pinkie to him.

you watch his eye twitch.

"i'm not going to do a fucking pinkie promise."

the two of you laugh and it's enough to make your cheeks hurt.

it’s solidified one thing in your mind. that look in his eyes, the way he tucks you into him before his stupid teasing voice lulls you to sleep.

that you have to tell yuuji the first chance you get.

next part linked here

an: right. well.

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