#NOTHING the greens did was as entertaining

[xxelliewxx]

Fire and Frost {Ellie x Reader} Ch. 3

MDNI 18+ content

Pairings: loser!(AFAB)Reader x hockey player!Ellie

Synopsis: When y/n is requested to tutor Ellie Williams in organic chemistry, she expects arrogance and attitude from the hockey player. However, she discovers a different aspect of Ellie’s tough exterior, revealed through humor and fleeting glances. This raises the question: why does Ellie go to great lengths to embarrass and harass y/n whenever they are in the presence of others?

Warnings: Mentions of depression, anxiety, sexual/physical assault, alcohol, violence, trauma (if I miss any let me know!)

w/c: 2.8k

an: this is my first time ever posting fanfic on Tumblr, so feedback is completely welcome! this is not proofread and is a work in progress.

Silicon Symmetry

As the clock struck 12:30, anticipation bubbled within you as you headed to your organic chemistry class, determined to confront Ellie and uncover the source of her unpredictable behavior. The emotional whiplash she was putting you through was overwhelming, leaving you feeling dizzy and disoriented. It felt particularly unfair, given that she knew how crucial it was for you to maintain your scholarship; her behavior appeared nothing short of self-centered. You chastised yourself for thinking she was anything but.

Determined to confront her, you hustled to catch up to the student holding the lecture hall door for you, stomping over to where the hockey player lounged, surrounded by her teammates, laughing and joking as if the events of the morning had never occurred. The sight stung, intensifying your frustration. She wants to be that way, fine, two can play that game. As you reached her combat boot-clad feet, you delivered a swift kick to her shin, drawing giggles from her friends. Cat tilted her head, a smirk playing on her lips, clearly entertained by your fury, which only ignited your anger further.

"What the fuck, Williams. Do you even care about anyone besides yourself? I can't believe I was foolish enough to think you were capable of anything beyond your own self-interest."

The brunette shot up at your remark, invading your personal space. "Here we go again, pretending you understand me. Let me make this clear, princess: I don't require your assistance, and I certainly won't waste my time on a loser like you."

Emotions swelled in your chest, and you felt a sting behind your eyes at her words. Her teammates erupted in cheers, one even giving her a congratulatory slap on the back as if she had just clinched a last-minute victory. You grabbed your iPad, bringing up the playful sketches the two of you had made earlier that day, the sound of her genuine laughter echoing in your mind. "If you're not interested in being around me, then why did you—"

You were abruptly interrupted as the iPad you had been holding shattered into fragments right before your eyes. Ellie's gaze, usually emotionless, now burned with an intensity of hatred that was unsettling. "Don't you dare approach me like this again. What gives you the audacity to even think you can look at me?"

Tears streamed down your face as you lost control, your hand instinctively shooting out to land a stinging slap across the captain's face, her head snapping to the side from the impact. In shock, you raised your hands to your mouth, a gasp escaping as disbelief washed over you, your eyes wide with astonishment at what you had just done.

Her eyes, once simmering with hatred, now blazed with an intensity that was almost palpable. Gripping your shirt tightly in her fist, Ellie lifted you effortlessly, slamming your back against the wall next to the doorframe. The force of the impact knocked the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping as you clawed at the hands that held you captive. "Lay a finger on me again, and I swear I'll end you."

You caught yourself shifting your gaze from her deep, forest-green eyes to the vivid crimson handprint emerging on her cheek. As you tried to find the right words, they eluded you, leaving your mouth agape in silence. Her eyes, shadowy and intense, revealed a flicker of vulnerability, a crack in her facade. Ellie seemed to carry a weight of remorse for what had just happened, yet her fingers clutched your shirt with an unyielding grip.

As she leaned closer, locking her gaze with yours, a rush of emotions surged through you. Then, just like that, she released you and settled back into her chair, leaving the other students wide-eyed and speechless. A wave of humiliation washed over you, making your stomach churn. In a flurry, you snatched your backpack and gathered the shattered pieces of your iPad, hurling the remnants toward the brunette before storming out.

Dr. Miller hurried from a faculty meeting, her beloved matcha latte spilling over the rim of her plastic cup as she dashed toward her classroom. A look of bewilderment crossed her features when she spotted you racing out of the lecture hall, and she quickly stepped in your path to halt your escape. 

Adjusting the items in her arms to free a hand, she softly rested it on your shoulder, her initial confusion giving way to worry. "Y/N, what’s wrong? Did something happen?" You shrugged off her concern, stepping back from her touch. 

"Dr. M, I appreciate that you believe in me, but sometimes what you see isn’t really there." With that, you turned away from your compassionate professor and hurried back to the apartment you shared with Dina and Jesse.

The October wind whipped against your tear-streaked face as you sprinted, its icy breath leaving your cheeks flushed and red. The humiliation you felt was unlike anything you had ever encountered. Sure, Ellie had pulled some messed-up stunts before, but this was a new level of cruelty. You were accustomed to her childish antics—tripping you or swiping things from your hands—but completely shattering your iPad was beyond the pale. 

 Your iPad was more than just a device for taking notes; it was your sanctuary, a place where you poured out your heart and soul. Without it, you felt adrift, a wave of despair crashing over you. Your hands trembled as you fumbled with the key to your apartment, the door creaking open with a reluctant groan. With a forceful slam, you tossed your backpack onto the kitchen counter and stormed into your bedroom. Sliding down the wall, you let out rough sobs that shook your entire body. 

Why me? What did I do to her to deserve this? Fuck you, Ellie Williams.

☾⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽☾⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱

You lost track of time as you sat there, tears streaming down your face, until a throbbing headache surged through you. Nausea clung to you as you finally pushed yourself up from the floor. With a heavy heart, you opened your bedroom door and shuffled to the kitchen sink, your hands quaking as you filled a glass with water. The refreshing liquid slid down your throat, but it did little to soothe the relentless pounding in your head.

After setting the glass down, your gaze fell on your backpack, anxiety creeping in as you realized you had no way to study for your calculus test without your notes. The absence of your iPad was a painful reminder of Ellie's relentless torment. Thankfully, Dina was in your calculus class, but the thought of borrowing her notes made you cringe; her note-taking skills were far from impressive. 

As you glanced at your phone, a few notifications popped up as you unlocked the screen. Dina had called you twice, and a flurry of texts from both her and Jesse filled your inbox, all laced with concern. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at their messages, a smile breaking through as you appreciated the care they both showed.

You pushed aside the notifications, losing yourself in the endless scroll of social media, desperately trying to avoid the nagging feeling of confinement that came from being without your journal. Suddenly, your thumb halted as you stumbled upon a post from your brother. It showcased a family gathering, a post-summer bash that had completely escaped your notice. The realization hit hard: you weren’t on the guest list. While it shouldn’t have shocked you, the sting of exclusion was still sharp, a painful reminder of how things had changed since last year.

Frustration bubbled up inside you, and you flung your phone onto the couch, wishing the intrusive thoughts would vanish. Staring blankly at the wall, you sank into silence, weighing your options. The clock ticked toward 2 PM, and soon Dina would burst through the door with Jesse, the inseparable duo who seemed to thrive on each other’s company. They were adorable, a fact that only deepened your envy, a feeling you weren’t proud to admit.

A soft knock at your door pulled you from your reverie, irritation creeping into your voice. "Seriously, Dina? Did you forget your keys again?" You rose from your seat and swung the door open, only to be met by an unexpected face. 

"Abby? W-what are you doing here?"

Abby Anderson, the assistant captain under Ellie, wasn’t someone you typically chatted with, making her sudden appearance all the more surprising. She offered you a gentle smile, which helped to ease the tension bubbling inside you. "Hey, Y/N. This might seem a bit out of the blue, but I heard about what happened in class today, and I wanted to come by and apologize."

Her words ignited a fire within you; why should she be apologizing for that worthless Williams? "Are you kidding me?" you snapped, fists clenched tightly at your sides, teeth grinding in frustration.

Abby quickly raised her hands in a gesture of peace, her voice rushing to calm you down. "I know what she did was fucked up, I am not denying that. I just want you to know it's not your fault, she's going through some serious shit right now and I really don't think she knows how to cope."

You shook your head at her words, "Abby, I'm not upset at you. I'm upset at her for not being a fucking adult and apologizing to me herself. And to be honest I don't really care what she has going on, that's no excuse to break my shit!"

Abby nodded, her expression understanding. "You're right, I don't disagree with you. I've known Ellie since we were in squirt league together, she's not an easy one to read and honestly I'm struggling to figure out where she's coming from. Nevertheless, she is my best friend and I feel the need to protect her."

Mulling over Abby's words, you let out a sigh. "Would you like to come in? I'm sure Dina wouldn't mind seeing you."

Abby smiled at your invitation, thanking you as she passed through the threshold of your apartment. This was her first time visiting without Dina, and she seemed a bit uncertain about where to settle. Sensing her hesitation, you gestured toward the couch in the living room while you retrieved a couple of beers from the fridge. "Feel free to sit there if you want."

As she took a seat, you cracked open a beer, taking a hearty gulp before offering her one. A burst of laughter escaped her lips. "You do realize it’s not even 3 PM, right?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, "who gives a fuck, it's Friday and I don't wanna think." Abby looked a bit worried at your response, placing her unopened can on the coffee table. You finished your beer, crumpling the can in your hand and tossing it into the recycling bin, already reaching for another. This wasn’t your usual drinking style, but you felt the need to escape, so why not? Fuck it.

Settling next to the hockey player, you glanced at her over the top of your can, raising an eyebrow at her amused expression. Abby chuckled and shook her head. "You’re nothing like I expected."

Laughing at her remark, you nudged her shoulder playfully. "Fuck you, Anderson."

A comfortable silence enveloped you both until she broke it again. "You really are doing her a favor, you know? She doesn’t deserve your kindness or your patience, yet you keep giving it. Why is that?" 

Trying to distract yourself, you fiddled with the frayed threads of your ripped jeans, pulling them apart and rolling them between your fingers. With a shrug, you replied, "I don't know, Abby. I guess I can't stand by and watch someone fail at something they've been working their whole life for."

Abby’s gaze fell on your troubled expression, a wave of sympathy washing over her. "Yeah, she really doesn’t deserve you." 

Her words carried a weight that eluded your grasp, complicating the situation far beyond your expectations. With a heavy sigh, you murmured, "Maybe I’m not worthy of her. There must be something I did to make her loathe me so intensely. If only she could see the real me, perhaps she wouldn’t wish I didn’t exist."

The blonde next to you appeared to be wrestling with her thoughts, finally reaching for her beer can and taking a long sip. After wiping her lips, Abby turned to you and said, "Hey, there’s a party at the hockey house tonight. Dina was planning to go and mentioned inviting you. You’ll have her to hang out with, but don’t forget about me. Hell, we did share a beer at 2 PM, after all.

You smiled back at her, clinking your can against hers. "Thanks, Abby." The idea of attending a party filled you with anxiety, yet something about the girl beside you made it seem like nothing could go wrong, so you found yourself agreeing to join.

As you chatted, Dina and Jesse burst through the front door, takeout bags in hand. The aroma of Chinese food wafted through the air, making your mouth water. It was common for you to skip meals until dinner, as morning and afternoon nausea made it difficult to eat. But when dinner arrived, it was a different story.

Dina greeted Abby with enthusiasm, clearly thrilled to see one of her favorite teammates. "Hey, Abs! Want to stay for dinner? We could carpool to the party!" She raised her eyebrows playfully, prompting a laugh from Abby.

"I appreciate it, D, but Ellie asked me to help set up for tonight. I was just about to head out," Abby replied, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder and flashing you an encouraging smile before crushing her can and tossing it into the bin next to yours. Dina observed the interaction and decided to bring it up while serving General Tso's chicken and fortune cookies, pouring your share onto a paper plate she had grabbed from the cupboard.

Jesse looked as if he were bracing for an explosion, casting nervous glances your way throughout dinner, which only served to irritate you. Setting your fork down with a clatter, you turned to him and said, "Can you please stop looking at me like I'm about to combust any second?"

A flush of pink spread across his cheeks, clearly embarrassed by his lack of subtlety. Dina rolled her eyes at him, giving his shin a swift kick from beneath the table, prompting a soft "ouch" to escape his lips. "Sorry, Y/N. I heard you had a rough day."

You shot a glare at Dina, realizing you should have expected nothing less from her, considering he was her boyfriend. Shoving a piece of chicken into your mouth, you tried to ignore him, grains of rice tumbling off your fork and scattering into your lap. Just then, Dina reached across the table, halting your movements and preventing any more rice from joining the mess.

"Y/N, I'm really sorry about her, only a few on the team actually find her shit amusing. We're gonna give her hell at practice tomorrow, don't worry. Abby even insisted on it."

The mention of Abby made your cheeks heat up, recalling how kind she had been to you. But that warmth quickly faded as you found yourself longing for that same kindness from another player, a frown settling on your face. "It doesn’t matter, D. Nothing’s going to change. Whatever I did to her is so unforgivable that she’ll never let it go. It’s just absurd; all I did was bump into her by mistake. Before that, I had never even spoken to her!"

Dina instinctively withdrew her hand, sensing your need for some distance after your emotional outburst. She wished she had the right words to comfort you, but the truth was, she was just as puzzled. Ellie was an enigma that everyone was eager to understand, and sometimes it felt like even Ellie was still trying to figure herself out.

"I'm sorry, Dina. I didn't mean to freak on you, I just can't stand this. All I want is to be her friend, but I can’t understand why she’s treating me so poorly." You absentmindedly pushed the chicken around on your plate, watching it scoop up bits of rice from the sticky sauce.

“Y/N, I assure you, you haven’t done anything wrong. No one deserves to be treated like this.” You turned to her, your frown deepening. “Let’s just forget about Ellie for tonight. She’ll be too busy with the party to even notice you. Plus, we’ll be right there to support you! It’s time to break out of that shell; you have so much charisma to share.”

A smile crept onto your face as you appreciated Dina’s ability to lift your spirits, grateful for her unwavering friendship during tough times. “You’re right, to hell with her! I’m getting wasted tonight.”

Jesse hooped and hollered, cheering in agreement. "Fuck yeah! Let's get crunk."

Dina chuckled, shaking her head at the two of you, a playful grin lighting up her face.

@liasxeatt

@vahnilla

[ttheggrimrreaper]

Hello hello, can you write first meetings with Otoya, Shidou, and Barou

(I love your writing so much hugs and kisses you to oblivion)

Ofc I can!! Thank you thank you!

Masterlist

First meetings

Otoya, Barou, and Shidou x reader (separate)

Takes place after the U-20 match

Otoya Eita

After the blue lock U-20 match, you had been in a rush. Watching it live as a gift from a friend, you never were super into soccer, but if soccer was like this all the time, you might have to start getting into it! A certain player caught your eye however... White hair with a green streak.. odd hair choice but it suited his face well. After all, he could very well be your 'hear me out'.

"girl, Otoya Eita is NOT a 'hear me out" your friend said as you walked along the sidewalk, "a hear me out is when you are ODDLY attracted to someone, everybody is attracted to Otoya Eita.

"well., I just... His hair?" You shrugged as you sat down, something about him made him seem like a hear me out. But it could also be you trying to gaslight yourself into not having a crush on him. You had sat down at this cafe, it was nice.. large tables. However you and your friend sat outside.

"... Oh my god." Your friend said as she looked over your shoulder.

"what!? Oh no is something on me!?!" You looked from side to side frantically then at your lap. What? What was it!?

"nothing but my eyes" a voice spoke from behind.. a voice you recognized after watching countless interviews of this man.

"on fuck,." You whispered as you looked to your friend with wide eyes. Slowly you turned to look behind you, and low and behold... Otoya Eita stood there, his signature nonchalant look on his face.

"mind if I sit? My name is Otoya Eita." He said, gesturing to the chair. Your friend beat you to saying yes, so he sat.

"y-y/n L/n" you said hurriedly, your friend giggling as she introduced herself in more relaxed manner.

"nice to meet you L/n.. however I must say, your friend is right. I am not a 'hear me out'." He looked to you expectancy, as did your friend, and you just sat there in shock.

Barou Shoei

You watched from the bowling counter, it was a very slow day. One singular person was using the lanes. Sharp hair... Probably a lot of hair gell, who seemed to explode with power whenever he rolled the ball to the pins. The oddest thing was, you could have sworn you had seen him somewhere.

"another round on Lane 3" He snapped you out of your thoughts. You hadn't even noticed that he had walked over.

"umm yeah sure." You said, he pushed forward a card for you to charge, as you picked up the card you saw his name. 'Barou Shoei' you had to stare at it for a little bit.. now you were sure you had seen him somewhere!

"is there a problem?" He asked, leaning against the counter. Eyebrow raised as he looked from you to the card. "Waiting for an autograph or something, because you're not getting one." Rude you thought as you looked back to him.

"I swear I've seen you on TV... I just don't know what show.." you trailed on,, must be an actor if he's that cocky

"..what?" His tone seemed rather offended, you shrugged it off as you charged the card. "I play soccer.'

That's when it clicked. The blue lock vs U-20 match. A close friend made you sit there with them and watch it.. how could you forget, he was so entertaining to watch! Barou, on the other hand was offended, in fact, to make a point he grabbed a pen from your side of the counter and a napkin. Leaving you standing there dumbfounded as he handed you his autograph. With that, he turned and left.

"...what the fuck"

Shidou Ryusei

It was odd.. seeing such a wild player on the u-20 team. Now you had followed this team through alot, each game you watched and merch you purchased.. but this man just something else entirely. Thankfully you would get to meet him a meet and great! Unfortunately Sea Itoshi would not be attending.. you were hoping to get an autograph.

"welcome welcome!" He sang as you stepped forward, pushing your note book forward with the bright pink sharpie.

"hi.." you shrugged slightly. You really didn't care about this player, but you didn't want to be rude. He frowned, not quite signing the note book yet.

"what's up your butt?" He pouted out, much to your dislike. You would have rather gone to Shindo or Oliver.. but here you were... Waiting at this man's mercy.

"nothing, you're just not the guy I was wanting to talk to today." You answered honestly. Why would you lie. Shidou huffed still not signing

"you wanted Bottom lashes Senior? Don't worry I did too.. he owes me his number" he guessed, right on the dime of what you wanted. "guess we can suffer together." He said, finally signing the notebook. He closed it and handed it back you with a smile, and you went to the to the other line for Oliver bewildered.. what an odd man. You didn't open your notebook again, not until you had made it Oliver. Opening it up to the same page to see a number.. and a ,little message from the man before,

'lets meet up, and you can get both our autographs~'

What the actual fuck, you were looking down at the page in shock, mouth hung open.

"It's gonna be worth it." Oliver said with a chuckle, taking the paper and signing it.

[kultklassickiller]

Prada You Chapter 16

Summary:

In the summer of 1998, sparks fly between Nyeya and Jey.

Nyeya is an 18-year-old around the way girl. Jey is older, paid, and fine. He is also the leader of the infamous Prada Bois alongside his twin brother Jimmy.  The two have chemistry. However, Nyeya has plans outside of her attraction. With a birthday around the corner and dreams of living a good life, Nyeya sets her sights on enjoying the perks of Jey's money and hood celebrity.

But baby girl has no clue what it takes to really be down. Nyeya is about to learn some hard life lessons at the expense of her 'Prada' priced dreams.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Nyeya (Nye) Green (OC)

Author’s Note: This story is happening in an alternative universe. It features the current and original Bloodline members along with other WWE stars. So, the characters are themselves, but some things are switched around for the stories sake. This was originally written with all original characters, but I think it could work better this way. Hope you guys enjoy it and I actually finish it...

Warning: Please be advised that this chapter contains underage drinking, age gap relationships, brief violence.

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Chapter 16: Weight

Saturday morning came too soon, dragging the haze of the previous night along with it. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, landing square on my face as I blinked awake. I shifted under the sheets, the familiar weight of the bracelet on my wrist pulling me back to reality. The memory of Damian’s kiss burned hot in my mind, a dangerous mix of confusion, anger, and something else I wasn’t ready to name.

What did he mean by that?

I turned over, burying my face in my pillow. The kiss wasn’t what haunted me most; it was the possibility that someone might have seen it. If the wrong person had been outside, it could ruin everything. Jey wasn’t the type to brush off betrayal—real or perceived. I shuddered at the thought of what he might do.

My mom’s voice broke through my spiraling thoughts. “Nye! I made breakfast, come get it while it’s hot.”

“Coming!” I called, throwing the covers off and heading to the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face, hoping to wash away the lingering guilt and unease. But when I looked in the mirror, all I saw was someone who was in way over her head. I glanced down at the bracelet before sliding the bracelet off, leaving it on the bathroom counter.

---

Later that morning, Jey’s number lit up my phone. I stared at it for a moment before answering.

��Morning, baby,” he said, his voice warm and casual, like nothing had happened the night before.

“Morning,” I replied, trying to sound normal.

“Tama’s not done celebrating,” Jey said with a chuckle. “He’s throwing another party tonight at his place. You and your girls should come through.”

I hesitated. “Another party?”

He paused, his tone sharpening. “Yeah, Nye. You got a problem with that? You gone be busy or what?”

“No, no problem,” I said quickly. The idea of another party, especially one where Damian might be, made my stomach churn. “I’ll let them know.”

“Good,” Jey said, his tone softening. “Don’t have me waiting all night to see yo’ pretty ass either.”

The line went dead before I could respond. I sat there for a moment, staring at the screen, wondering if “having fun” was even possible anymore.

---

By early afternoon, I was at the mall with Kiyah, Natasha, and Nataya. The air-conditioned corridors were bustling, shoppers weaving in and out of stores with arms full of bags. We ducked into a boutique, the girls immediately gravitating toward racks of dresses and jumpsuits.

“You think Tama’s party is gonna top last night?” Kiyah asked, holding up a sequined black dress.

“Probably,” Natasha said, flipping through a rack of skirts. “I mean, it’s at his house, so you know it’s gonna be even crazier. You know how they get down.”

Nataya glanced at me, her expression curious. “You good, Nye? You’ve been quiet.”

I forced a smile. “I’m fine. Last night was something else. I guess I’m still tired.”

Kiyah smirked, nudging me with her elbow. “Tired from being Jey’s girl? Must be nice.”

“It has its moments,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light.

The girls continued browsing, laughing and joking about their finds. I lingered near the fitting rooms, pretending to look at a dress. My thoughts were a tangled mess, Damian’s words and actions replaying like a broken record.

“Y’all find anything yet?” a familiar voice called. I turned to see Jey strolling into the store, his presence commanding as ever. His red Prada bucket hat sat low on his head, and his black designer tee fit perfectly over his broad shoulders.

“Jey!” Kiyah exclaimed, her voice rising with excitement. “Aye, what you doing here, big bro?”

“Figured I’d stop by,” he said, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Thought I’d treat my girl and her friends today. Pick out whatever y’all want. It’s on me.”

The girls erupted in laughter and cheers, their gratitude spilling over in a flood of compliments. Kiyah practically danced over to the register with an armful of clothes. I was positive she was going to "borrow" some clothes if he hadn't showed up to pay for them.

I stayed back, watching him. “How’d you know we were here?” I asked, my voice casual but edged.

Jey’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a glint in his eyes that made me uneasy. “I always know where my girl is. Gotta keep tabs on you.”

“Tabs?” I said, trying to sound playful despite the knot tightening in my chest. “You’re not stalking me, are you?”

“Nah,” he said, brushing a loose braid from my face. “Just making sure you’re good. You know how it is.”

I forced a laugh, but the unease stayed with me.

---

That evening, as I stood in front of the mirror adjusting the top of my dress, my mom knocked on the door and stepped in without waiting for an answer. Her eyes immediately scanned my outfit.

“You’ve been going out a lot lately this summer,” she said, her tone light but incisive. “You must be seeing someone?”

I froze for a moment before answering. “Just hanging with friends, Ma. Tryna enjoy the summer before I start college courses. And.. it’s nothing serious with him. He's just a friend.”

Her brow arched. “Mmhmm. Friends don’t buy you dresses like that. I’ll say he’s in much deeper than you think. Perhaps, even in love.”

My heart raced as I turned to face her. “It’s nothing like that,” I lied. “Just someone I’m talking to, getting to know is all.”

She didn’t press further, but her eyes lingered on me for a beat too long. “If you say so, girlie. Does he know it’s not serious. If not, you should tell him that. Be careful, Nyeya. People don’t play about their feelings,” she said softly before leaving the room.

Her words stayed with me as I grabbed my clutch and headed out to meet the girls. The weight of everything on my shoulders remained, a reminder of how deeply I was tangled in this web.

---

The twin’s car they borrowed from their mama rattled to a stop in front of Tama’s house, a modest two-story home tucked into a quiet street. The porch and backyard were alive with people. On the porch, groups smoked and laughed, while in the backyard, a grill sizzled, and folding chairs circled a card table where men shouted over a heated game of dominoes. The faint sound of music leaking through the walls promised the party extended inside too.

Kiyah twisted in her seat, craning her neck to take in the scene. “This it? Doesn’t look like much from out here.”

Natasha, gripping the wheel, rolled her eyes. “Girl, it’s not supposed to look like much. You think Prada Bois want attention from everyone on the block?”

Nataya laughed, pulling down the visor mirror to fix her lip gloss. “As long as it’s fun, who cares? Just don’t wreck Ma’s car trying to get in this driveway.”

I stayed quiet, adjusting the top of my strapless black dress. The fitted fabric clung to my body, showing just enough skin to feel daring but not too much to feel exposed. My heels clicked against the pavement as we got out, my nerves twisting tighter with every step toward the house.

“Alright, let’s go y'all,” Natasha said, cutting the engine. “Ma’ll have a fit if we’re back too late.”

---

Inside and outside, the party thrived like two worlds blending into one. The house buzzed with chaos and celebration, while the backyard held its own rhythm. Laughter spilled from the kitchen, mixing with the sound of dominoes being slapped down on the folding table outside. The glow of string lights crisscrossed the yard, casting warm, uneven patches of light over the crowd. The living room buzzed with laughter and loud conversations as people filled every available seat and leaned against the walls. A group had taken over the couch, their dominoes game growing louder by the minute. In the kitchen, a mix of women and Prada Bois gathered around the counter, where bottles of Hennessy and Grey Goose lined the surface.

The backyard was alive with movement. Tama held court near the grill, his beer bottle raised as he told some story that had everyone around him doubled over in laughter. Jimmy leaned casually against the fence, a blunt in hand, trading barbs with Solo and Jacob. In one corner, a group of women giggled as they scoped out the Prada Bois, their bright dresses catching the light with every shift of their hips. The air was thick with the scent of barbecue and the occasional snap of a lighter. Other women, dressed just as boldly as me, hovered near the Prada Bois, their eyes full of intentions I didn’t want to think about.

“Aye, this is more my speed,” Kiyah said, her grin widening as she spotted the card table outside. She gestured toward the domino game, her excitement contagious. “Y’all know I’m about to clean somebody out tonight.” She swayed her hips to the song, “Hypnotize” by The Notorious B.I.G as we made our way into the house. “Come on, Nye. Don’t look so tense. You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself. Ain’t nothing going down 'cause they don’t want it to be shut down.”

I managed a small laugh, but my stomach churned. My eyes scanned the room, searching for Jey. Nataya nudged me, pointing to a corner near the kitchen. “There he go. Go get him, girl.”

Jey was perched on the arm of a recliner, his legs stretched out and a drink in hand. His red Prada bucket hat was gone, replaced by the close-cut lines of his fade. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes sharpened as soon as he spotted me, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“There go my baby,” he said, standing to meet me. His arm slipped around my waist, pulling me close. “Thought y’all got lost.”

“Traffic,” I said, the lie slipping out easily.

He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear as he spoke. “You don’t need to be so stiff, Nye. Loosen up, mama. It’s just a party. I got you. Always.”

The warmth in his voice eased some of the tension in my chest. I glanced up at him, his crooked grin softening into something almost tender. He took my hand, lacing our fingers together. “You good now?”

I nodded, and he kissed my forehead before leading me toward the backyard.

---

The energy in the backyard swirled around me. Groups mingled under the string lights, laughter and conversation blending with the thumping bass from the house. Jey’s hand stayed on my lower back, a quiet reminder of his presence as he led me to where the music pulsed louder.

The beat changed, slowing to “Nice and Slow” by Usher that made couples inch closer. Without a word, Jey pulled me toward the open patch of grass where others had already started dancing. Jey pulled me onto the patch of open space where a few people had started dancing. His hands rested firmly on my waist as we swayed to the rhythm, his eyes locked on mine.

“We’ve never danced like this before,” he said, his voice low and almost amused as his hands adjusted slightly on my waist.

I smirked, meeting his gaze. “You saying you don’t know how to dance, Jey?”

He laughed, the sound deep and genuine. “Nah, I know how. Just never had someone worth dancing with.”

His words caught me off guard, and I felt heat rise to my cheeks. “That supposed to be smooth?” I teased, trying to ignore how much the compliment hit.

“Just being honest,” he murmured, his eyes searching mine. “You’re looking real good tonight, Nye. You always do, but tonight…” He trailed off, a soft smile tugging at his lips before he leaned in closer. “You look edible.”

The kiss came naturally, his lips brushing against mine softly at first before deepening. For a moment, everything else faded—the crowd, the music, the lingering doubts. It was just us, swaying together in a world that felt briefly untouched by the chaos around us.

When the song ended, he pulled back slightly, his thumb brushing my cheek. “See? Told you I got you. You ain’t gotta worry with me, baby.”

For the first time that night, I believed him.

---

The hours slipped by as the music vibrating through the walls and seeping into the backyard like a second heartbeat. The cops hadn’t shut things down, which was good. I hadn’t seen Damian all night either. At first, I felt relief—a reprieve from the chaos his presence always seemed to stir. But as the minutes ticked on, the absence gnawed at me, an itch I couldn’t quite reach.

He’s not coming, I finally told myself. And with that, I decided to let go, if only for the night.

“Girl, what are you doing standing there like a statue?” Kiyah’s voice broke through my thoughts. She grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the makeshift dance floor in the center of the living room. “Come on, Nye. You need to loosen up. Shake that ass with me.”

Her words struck a chord. She wasn’t wrong. Letting out a small laugh, I followed her lead, moving to the beat of “Love You Down” by INOJ that pulsed through the crowd. The warmth of the drinks Jey had brought me earlier made my movements fluid, the tension in my shoulders finally melting away.

Nataya wasn’t far off, but she wasn’t dancing—at least not with her feet. She was nestled on Jimmy’s lap in the corner of the room, their faces inches apart as they whispered and laughed. Natasha twirled near the kitchen, her giggles blending with Sami’s as he spun her dramatically, earning cheers from the crowd. And Kiyah? She was shamelessly pressed against Jacob, the two of them swaying in sync as though the music had been made just for them.

It felt good to laugh, to be caught in the rhythm of the night. For once, I let myself have fun.

---

Jey’s hand found mine as I stepped off the dance floor, my cheeks flushed from the heat of the room. He pulled me close, his dark eyes sparkling with something playful.

“You’re finally having fun, huh?” he teased, his voice low enough to send a shiver down my spine.

I nodded, a small smile playing on my lips. “Yeah, I am.”

“Good.” He leaned down, brushing his lips against my temple before stepping back. “Let’s keep it going.”

The music shifted again, and Jey led me into another dance. This time, the tempo slowed, the kind of song that made couples draw closer. His hands rested firmly on my waist, his fingers pressing lightly against the fabric of my dress. I couldn’t ignore the way he looked at me, like I was the only person in the room.

“You look beautiful, Nyeya. Especially when a smile on your face,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the haze of noise around us.

I looked up at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “You’re laying it on thick tonight,” I teased, but my voice betrayed me, softer than I intended.

He smirked, leaning closer until his forehead almost touched mine. “Just telling the truth.”

For a moment, I let myself embrace his soft side. The tension between us felt lighter, like it was something we could set down instead of carry forever.

---

As the night wore on, the drinks kept coming. Jey seemed intent on keeping my glass full, and the warm buzz in my veins made the world feel softer, less jagged. Kiyah was still glued to Jacob, their laughter loud enough to cut through the music. Natasha was practically floating as Sami spun her again, this time dipping her so low she shrieked. Even Nataya had come up for air, though her lips were still red and swollen from kissing Jimmy.

I was watching them, smiling at their antics, when a figure stepped into my peripheral vision. A man I didn’t recognize sauntered toward me, his expression too familiar for my liking. He wasn’t dressed like the Prada Bois—his jeans were baggy, his white tank slightly dingy—but his swagger suggested he thought he belonged.

“You Jey’s girl, right?” he asked, his voice smooth but edged with something sharp.

I nodded slowly, already on edge. “Yeah.”

“Figured,” he said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Gotta say, I get it now.”

Before I could respond, a voice cut through the noise, sharp and commanding. “Yo, what the fuck are you doing, uce?”

Jey was already crossing the room, his shoulders tense, his jaw set. The man turned, hands raised in mock surrender. “Relax, bro. Just talking.”

“Talking to who?” Jey snapped, his voice rising. “My girl? You lost your damn mind?”

The tension in the room shifted instantly. Conversations hushed, all eyes turning toward the brewing storm. The man smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s not that deep, bro. Chill.”

But Jey wasn’t hearing it. He shoved the man, hard enough to send him stumbling into the wall. The reaction was immediate—voices shouting, people scattering, the air charged with chaos. Jimmy was at Jey’s side in an instant, gripping his twin’s shoulder.

“Uce, calm the fuck down,” Jimmy said firmly. “Not here. Not now.”

The man straightened, glaring at Jey, but before he could retaliate, Solo and Jacob were there, stepping in to diffuse the situation.

“You need to go,” Solo said, his tone low and menacing. “Now.”

After a tense moment, the man backed off, muttering curses under his breath as he was ushered out. Jey shrugged off Jimmy’s grip, his face still tight with anger. Without a word, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me through the crowd, leading me to a quiet corner of the house.

---

He didn’t stop until we were in an empty room, the door slamming shut behind us. The sound made me flinch, but Jey didn’t notice. He ran a hand over his face, pacing the small space like a caged animal.

“What the hell was that? I leave yo’ ass alone for five minutes and this what you do,” he demanded, his voice low but trembling with frustration.

“I didn’t do anything,” I said, my words tumbling out. “He came up to me. I didn’t even know him. Like it’s not that serious, Jey.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jey shot back. “You think I’m just gonna let some random ass dude talk to you like that, in my face, around my people? You’re mine, Nyeya. Mine. I need you understand that shit.”

His words hit like a slap, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Somewhere deep inside, a voice whispered something I didn’t want to hear: Would Damian have treated me like this?

Jey stepped closer, his tone softening but still firm. “I’m just trying to protect you. You don’t get it, Nye. Everybody ain’t cool. In my world—it’s dangerous over here. I can’t have anyone thinking they can take what’s mine.”

I nodded, though the knot in my stomach tightened. “I get it,” I whispered, even though I wasn’t sure if I did. “I’m sorry.”

He pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly as if that could erase the cracks forming between us. But even as I leaned into his embrace, the doubt lingered, heavier than ever.

"You belong to me, Nyeya. Can't nobody have you but me.”

---

Want to read from the beginning? Click Here

If you wanna join the taglist for this story, just let me know! Taglist: @theusotwinzcom @nbanenefrmdao @queeny23

[danytheconqueror-jonthewhitewolf]

"Aegon Targaryen is no true king. Just as you are no true knight"

"He's nothing but a craven little cunt. Just. Like. You"

House Blackwood was in there for like two minutes, and in those two minutes, they did nothing but serve.

[leafyeyes417]

Danny sat on a rooftop feeling confused. It was currently 3 days later than he last remembered. That was 3 DAYS with no memory of anything. He didn’t even know what city he was in. The only thing he is sure of is that it wasn’t mind control. His experience with Freakshow let him know that.

Along with this feeling more similar to the time his mom shoved high proof cleaning alcohol that was ectofied in his face during an excited rant. The fumes alone had him missing a few hours. Luckily Jazz was there and kept his blackout drunk self entertained.

So the question was, where the hell was he and what did he do?! Also, what caused him to blackout? Last he remembered he was in Metropolis and he got nearly hit in the head with a green glowing stone that he only vaguely could tell was somehow not ectoradium. After that? Nothing.

Aka: Kryptonite is highly compressed ectoplasm and causes Danny to get black out drunk just by being in its vicinity.

P.S. I also would love to see what chaos you think Danny would get up to lol

[azrielsrealmate]

alcohol and pancakes

azriel x reader

summary: azriel was always devoted to you, but when drunk? He was clingy, touchy and devoted. And he wanted to take care of you even if his mind was spinning.

warnings: mentions of alcohol?

word count: 1.3k

this is a silly little thing because I’ve just read somewhere that Azriel gets clingy when drunk and oh my god that’s sooo cute 😭

Your touch on his cheek was like a soothing balm for a wound that throbbed and stung, with each languid and incredibly soft stroke easing the pain more and more. He let go, leaning into your touch.

Why did he always have to be the tough and unbreakable guy? He wasn’t that tough, nor unbreakable, he was just... himself. And your gentle caresses made him want to whimper. His honeyed eyes closed with a hum of satisfaction, and you laughed softly. Why was even your laugh soft? Azriel didn’t understand. Azriel didn’t want to understand.

“How much have you had to drink?” you asked, arching both eyebrows in pure tenderness.

It took Azriel several seconds to process the question, in reality, he had drunk quite a bit. But that didn’t diminish any of the things he wanted to do with you, which at the moment was nothing more than resting his face between your generous breasts. He nuzzled your palm, breathing in and pressing a soft kiss.

“Not too much.”

Liar. Lies. A shadow whispered in his ear, and Azriel nearly growled, brushing it aside and nuzzling your hand further.

“Ah, I see,” you murmured, entertained by the sight—a warrior nearly two meters tall, and a spy no less, clinging to you like a needy child craving affection. Your voice was drenched in amusement, dripping over him just enough to make him open his eyes slightly.

“I’m not that drunk.” He almost whined, his eyebrows furrowing, and you had to stifle another giggle. Not wanting to offend the oh-so-scary shadowsinger that was hovering over your body, laid across your marriage bed.

“I’m not that drunk,” Azriel repeated, this time with a firmer, almost defiant tone, though it wasn’t as firm or defiant as he intended, because you could see the tremor at the corner of his lip, trying not to smile like a fool upon seeing your own smile. He reminded you more of Nyx trying to convince you that he wasn’t sleepy at bedtime just to spend more time with you, than of the five-hundred-year-old spy that he was.

His eyes, usually as inscrutable as the night sky, were now clouded by a mixture of alcohol and a tenderness he rarely allowed himself to show—a vulnerability that made you stroke his cheek once more.

“Azriel…” you whispered with a gentleness that only softened the normally sharp edges of his face further. You could see the freckles scattered across his nose, small and nearly invisible, like tiny constellations marking his skin. And the slight green ring in the center of his eyes, and a few strands of hair longer than the others.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of you,” he said, burying his face in the crook of your neck, this time sounding more resolute, acceptably more resolute, as he breathed in your scent like it was a balm he desperately needed. The way his body, so big and strong, curled up against yours was a delightful paradox you couldn’t help but enjoy. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders to pull him closer. You felt the weight of his head on your shoulder, the brush of his dark hair against your cheek. “I can take care of you... always.”

A soft laugh, impossible to contain, escaped your lips. The irony of his words filled your chest with a playful warmth. “Really?” you teased, your hands caressing his back with the same slow indulgence of someone petting a spoiled kitten. Carefully avoiding his wings, so as not to turn clingy-drunk Azriel into horny-clingy-drunk Azriel. “Then, if you’re so capable, why don’t you go down to the kitchen and make me some dinner?” You were pretty sure he would wobble if he got up.

Azriel lifted his head, his eyes gleaming with a determined light that almost made you regret your words. He could make you dinner—no, he should make it for you. You were his mate, and he had lost count of how many nights he had come home dazed with exhaustion only to find a warm dinner and loving arms.

Before you could react, he got up from the bed with the agility of a feline, the weight of his determination palpable in the air, your thoughts incredibly wrong; he didn’t wobble even once.

“Azriel, no—” you began, reaching for his arm as he headed toward the door. “It was a joke, I’ve already eaten, please don’t try to make me dinner when you’re in this state…”

He didn’t listen, or decided not to, moving through the room with that lethal grace so natural to him. You were forced to follow him as he made his way down the hallway and then down the stairs to the kitchen.

When you reached the kitchen, you made sure to turn on the lights because Azriel hadn’t bothered, given that he was already opening the cabinets, inspecting their contents with an intensity that almost made you worry.

“I’ll make you pancakes,” he announced, and you laughed, so much that your cheeks turned red.

“Pancakes?” you approached him, placing a hand on his arm in an attempt to stop him. “Az, that’s not dinner.”

“It will be,” he said, determined, and his stubbornness brought another smile to your face. There was no stopping him now, so you resigned yourself to helping him.

He continued to inspect the cabinet contents, searching for something that he didn’t even have in mind. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle—he was so determined that he didn’t even seem lost.

“How about you start by getting the flour?” Azriel’s eyes lit up as if he finally remembered something. He grabbed the bag of flour. Then he looked back at the other contents in the cabinet, and you wanted to laugh again.

“The eggs and then the milk.” As he pulled out the ingredients with hands that were skilled but slightly shaky, you stayed close. He observed everything he had taken out, all placed on the counter, and then directed those hazel, clouded eyes at you, tentatively, in a silent question.

“That’s all we need.”

“Ah… I knew that.” He said as if trying to convince you of something.

“Of course you did, I wouldn’t doubt that my clever shadowsinger knew.” You were teasing him, but he didn’t even notice. Though you did notice the red that brushed his cheeks.

You handed him the bowl and the ingredients, watching with amusement as he measured and poured, his brow furrowed in concentration. His hands, which usually wielded weapons with deadly skill, now worked with adorable clumsiness to mix the ingredients. As he stirred, fearing that Azriel might spill too much of the mixture out of the bowl, you moved closer to help him, your hands gently falling over his, trying to guide him. Azriel froze for a second, and you knew almost instinctively that he was looking at the scars covering his hands, so different from the softness of yours. You offered him a warm smile, quickly making him forget about it.

The warmth of the kitchen was comforting, but not as much as the warmth radiating from his body next to yours. That warrior who could bring down armies was now focused on making pancake batter with the same seriousness he would approach any crucial task. And though pancakes weren’t a conventional dinner, you knew that the dedication he was putting into them made them more special than any banquet.

“Is this good?” he murmured, turning his face toward you, and for a moment, his honeyed eyes met yours.

“Perfect,” you replied softly, allowing yourself a small moment of respite in his closeness, enjoying the tenderness hidden behind that façade of hardness.

Azriel nodded, satisfied, before turning toward the pan that was already starting to heat. And as he poured the mixture, you couldn’t help but admire him, so determined and so devoted. All for you. All yours.

[mykaelaaa]

quit it

✰se-mi x fem!reader / ~3k

✰deciding to pair up with se-mi unaware what you're getting into

✰warnings: blood, suggestive, +18

"do you trust that guy?"

leaning on the comically big bunk bed far enough from the loud crowd, you stared at the plastic pig hanging in the air. filled with money, presumably real money.

maybe if you get everybody to climb on each other and take that thing down you could get out of this shithole you regret agreeing to.

some guy went on rambling about how he's been here before and you're too caught up in your thoughts to hear what he has to say.

what's his number? 456?

maybe you should spare him a chance. judging by the way he helped out. but maybe he's also full of shit, just like the rest of people here. you saw the field full of bodies and blood. if anything, he's a good entertainer judging by the green and greedy crowd he gathered around for the second time.

too lost to hear, but not to feel someone giving you a punch in the shoulder. quite a strong one. here we go, you thought. bribes, violence, torment, bed and food exchange just like in those world ending movies. 

not having any partners in crime or knowing what any of these people are like you have to be wary. it's all about the money as the end goal for over 300 people here, which is a scary thought. 

with annoyance and half-baked comeback, you turned your attention to whatever smartass that spawned next to you.

let's just say they sure did not disappoint. looks wise, of course.

but it's not time or place for that right now. right? besides, you saw a couple of sparks early on between players but surely surfaced level ones. the type formed in the span of one day of being here is not that romantic. more like a good distraction. but you can't blame them, maybe the next game is their last one so why not go out with a good makeout or something?

"what?"

"i asked you something." the girl spoke confidently, holding a strong gaze over you for some reason. she had her arms crossed, mimicking your pose on the opposite frame while you were gripped by uncertainty, she seemed more carefree and unbothered. it was almost reassuring, somehow. 

you felt exposed and this time not by the debts unpaid and calls from the bank but whoever was in front of you.

with hard to miss piercings, silver rings that slipped passed the guards somehow and a discreet grin escaping her collected persona left the reply hanging in the air and led you to stare for longer than you should have.

you don't even know her but a recent memory surfaced. that thanos guy being rejected by her and making a fuss about it in front of everybody. you never even heard of him before. one hit wonder probably.

"oh, yeah. sorry, i was just thinking i guess," you muttered, rubbing your temple with a sigh.

"about?"

"nothing important," you replied flatly, regretting how it came off as.

"right, right. no biggie, thinking about if you'll be alive in the next 2 hours. a daily routine," she said in a sarcastic tone, causing you to roll your eyes. 

the presence next to you made you somehow feel smaller than the weight of bunk beds and entire room already did.

"do you need something?" you dragged the question out, looking down at the wrinkled fabric of the number trapped between her folded arms, "380?"

"se-mi," she tucked her head to the side and half smiled, still done in nonchalant manner. "and yeah, actually. wanna pair up?" 

you stared at her. if whatever this is goes right, and you're not being manipulated by a pretty figure facing you, although you don't mind at all, you must track down where this cocky confidence comes from. if it's normal and "i used to be in the army" story and not "i was a hitman" you will keep her close.

"aren't you with those guys?" you nodded your head towards the obvious purple hair guy and his crew amongst the mass. 

"that self proclaimed rapper? nah, i don't really swing that way," she played with her lip piercing before shifting her attention towards you once again.

"oh, you don't really swing that way? or did i get that wrong?"    she chuckled at your teasing tone and raised brows, "well, what can i say. it's kinda obvious. at least i hope so."

you squinted, amused and engaged. everything about her look screams the already mentioned but why not toy around more when there's nothing to lose. "obvious, huh? sure, whatever helps you sleep at night se-mi."

se-mi shrugged, took a quick glance as if someone's around. "i think i'm pretty clear about it. but since you're not convinced…" she leaned in slightly, dropping her voice just enough for only you to hear. 

"stick around and i'll prove it."

your stomach did the weird thing, the one you wouldn't let her—or anyone know about.

fixing your weight against the metal bed frame, you scoffed. "right. because this place is swarming with opportunities to show off."

grinning, she pushed off the frame and cut the distance between you to down to a cruel and agonizing one. strands of her hair naturally fell over her eyes but it did not do a good a job hiding the intimidating gaze. crowd blended into silence and you could not pick whether to blame yourself for being so weak in the matter of seconds or her for playing dumb games.

you're were not that easy to impress just a week ago.

so she spoke, lip ring somehow reflecting off the dim lighting this chamber has.

"i'm pretty good at getting what i want."

you bit back a nervous laugh, trying not to let her and this proximity overcome you. "and what is it that you want?"

your desperate attempt to sound civilized and composed was shitty, and se-mi read easily through it.

"say yes and you'll see."

her eyes flicked to yours, lingering just long enough to make you feel like you lost the high ground. then swiftly she stepped back, taking all the tension with her. finally you could let out a breath you held unaware.

but before you could respond, a voice tear through the room.

"players, prepare for the next game. you have 30 minutes."

the announcement sent a wave through the busy crowd. voices hushed, movements quickened and panic was apparent. your chest tightened, probably the worst thing about this is not knowing what's next. if you ever get out, announcement lady is on the top of the list.

se-mi looked at the speaker in the corner. you wanted to ask her what's on her mind but devil works faster.

"time's running out, sweetheart. hope you're skilled with decision making."

"and if i say no?" you knew damn well that's not an option.

se-mi slipped her hands into her pockets, cocked her head to the side with that damn grin. slow on her feet she walked backwards, leaving you more and more with each step and it stinged.

"loss for both of us. and my bed is that way, by the way."

you watched her disappear in the crowd that rushed on the steps and just as quickly you were surrounded too. maybe, just maybe this is more challenging than the money winning itself.

✰

the game already morphed into a hazy fever dream of adrenaline and blood. it was oddly silent, compared to just a few hours ago when the main floor was brimming with "life". or better, those alive. now everyone that came back scattered around the room.

you weren't sure who's blood was blending with your shoes or who's splatter stained your jacket.

and neither was se-mi. however, she didn't seem shaken up, as per usual.

she followed you close behind, making a beeline towards the bathroom. the air inside felt much colder than the outside and the contact with the freezing sink proved it. in the mirror you caught a sight of se-mi leaning against the tiles, bloodied but stoic.

top to bottom, covered in blood with a cut on her face that she smudged further. she ran her hand through the hair in attempt to fix it, stretching her neck in the process.

quiet whimpers escaped past her lips. she unzipped her jacket, looked at the mess made. floor. room. and back at you again. 

you admit you did look at her like a man starved. just blame it on the adrenaline. it's easier that way.

she clicked her tongue in fake disapproval, "no manners."

what a jerk.

"you're all bloody." you stated, hands working faster than your mind, already reaching for the paper.

"really?" she pretended to be puzzled. it made you sigh. "let's go in the stall."

"you don't—i can do it too, you know," now she felt slightly bad for making you more worried than you already are.  

she sat down on the toilet with a loud thump, no protests or fight. her muscles aching but you were no better. you closed the door behind you, this place making you more paranoid than ever. borrowing a second of your shared free time to look at the piece of work across you.

with each second passing you realized this silence, comfort and unspoken longing became a luxury here. se-mi took a note of it too.

deep inside she blames the gods for meeting a pretty girl in a state like this, desperate for money, careless about debts, bloody and tired in this awful bathroom. you're no better though. and it made her feel a bit better.    "what? do i look that bad?"

you snorted, shook your head no. slightly kneeled, you took the wet paper you gathered in one hand while holding the back of hear head with another. leaning in, you observed the cut on her face. a knife? no, unless someone smuggled it. you didn't see her in fight either.

a lack of self control let loose and your finger delicately ran across her cheek. blame it on just wanting to see how bad it hurts but she was no fool.

entire time she maintained eye contact. this is the closest she ever was. it's a funny thing to notice, she's not that hopeless. not in a outside world. actually, she doesn't wanna remember. 

your hand was cold but it felt right. the stall seemed to shrink with you in front of her. 

se-mi swore she could smell your perfume that still withstand these conditions. must be an expensive one. that's fine, 45.6 billion will cover it.

"you're shaking," her voice dropped and she teased. turning her head to the side, bemused.

"oh," you backed away lightly. "apologies. wasn't aware you graduated in body language." se-mi enjoyed this too much.

you took a deep breath and continued clearing her face. terrible at avoiding her gaze. "are you a hitman or something?" you started, truly curious.

"guessed it on the first try."    "sooo you're not? good."

"i'd definitely make everybody pay me big if i was and wouldn't end up here. why?" 

of course the smartass answer. 

"just wondering how the hell nothing about this seems to bother you. people dying, not knowing who's next, guards just headshoting everybody…" you carefully moved her face to the side, causing her to shudder shyly. 

"it was at first but there's a prize at the end. i think it's worth it. at least to get to the half of it. that was before i—whatever."

"yeah?" she watched you change positions and kneel down, all done with an innocent look boring through her. she doesn't know if it's on purpose or you're tired.

someone entered the bathroom and se-mi cursed them internally for distracting you but it also gave her spare time to stare. 

swallowing harshly, se-mi did not let her mind flatter now.

doors closed. losing the advantage she convinced herself she has, with a heavy sigh and a fuck it, she looked away and closed her eyes. "we're paired up now. so…yeah. i guess i kinda have things to lose."

feeling your movements halt, se-mi opened her eyes. maybe that was too far. 

"yeah, i-uh. same here." 

you felt her eyes boring holes as you sloppily cleaned up the papers and threw them away, feeling your body burning. 

everything about this was shitty. games, people, loneliness, food, voting. everything except this. yeah, she might look a little beat up with tired bags under her eyes but it was hopeful.

your shadow fell over her. the height difference meant nothing right now. neither of you moved. things unspoken seemed so, so obvious to both of you it was suffocating. she just hopes you don't treat this as a distraction.

"i—" se-mi did not let you finish. instead she got up with a newfound boldness, licked her lips and pondered. making you wonder what else is playing in her mind.

"thank you." it was sincere, raw. she took barely half a step closer in this cramped stall with dozen of obstacles around. you could feel the heat rising and hell if you weren't red yourself. 

"you know, you also got blood on your face." 

"do i?" not really, you checked yourself in the mirror. no?

"mhm," she confirmed and you almost missed it. again, se-mi closed the distance further. raised her hand to wipe the "blood" suspiciously close to your lips.

no, you definitely didn't have it.

"there." she barely smiled and your breath hitched. she picked up on it.

you felt drunk looking down at her lips. and you know what? you might die tomorrow for all you know.

"oh fuck you." 

it sounded and felt desperate, muffled by the four walls; the way you pulled her by the jacket and kissed her. metallic taste absorbing you whole and the chapped lips mixed with her metallic piercing. you're done for. 

se-mi smirked proudly against your lips, like her plan finally worked. too busy for good to answer her antics but enough to crush one of her plans which was her hungry grip around your waist. so she caged you with her arms around between the door and her body as you kept pulling her back in. no need because she already made up her mind she's not leaving anytime soon.

you traced your hands under her unzipped jacket that made her gasp. still feeling like she keeps her cool persona intact even now.

you took it as a chance to put your tongue to use. you weren't so experienced per se but it's natural talent. her on the other hand…

both of breaths blended into one and it felt hot, almost wrong. making you weak in your legs, forcing you to find a support behind her head. intertwining your fingers together, drawing her even further if possible clearly left no more gap present.

your bodies connected fully, se-mi was so lost yet too aware of everything you did. your touch was setting her on fire everywhere at once, teeth bumping in rush, small noises you made and she doesn't recall last time she took a full breath.

out of nowhere you felt a knee pressing between your legs, making you to throw your head back harshly and let out a moan that se-mi had to cut short. unfortunately.

there was too much going for the door to handle and keep it low-key.

"come here, you're too loud." se-mi whispered, catching up her breath as she sat back down again. 

"and that's my fault?" you regret saying that because you weren't sure if she even understood you.

gasping and impatient was the sight of se-mi, lazily sprawled and hair messy. a genuine thought of staying here until guards have to break down the doors sounded pleasing.

each leg on her side, her hands instantly wrapped around you and lips chased for more. she's just as hopeless as you in the end. your body flinched upon feeling her hands sneak under your shirt. making a tour, stopping at your waistband. it was attentive, studying your reactions carefully, less in rush now. she was in control.

se-mi left your lips for a while, kissing path down your jaw to focus on your neck. she's glad you can't read minds.

your hand found hers buried under your shirt, hinting at whatever she has in mind to make it true. "we might be in a bathroom stall but i'm still a gentleman." you felt her hot whisper hit your ear.

"w-what?"

"can i?" she looked at you with a darkened gaze, twisting a knot in your stomach. at this point you had no energy but to groan and nod yes, letting your head fall on her shoulder if it wasn't for her grabbing your jaw and making you lock eyes. 

what you said about her demeanor, you take it back.

"no, no. speak." briskly she nestled in the crook of your neck and licked a stripe there. 

"i…you're a tease." the answer was transparent.

chatter from the outside made you freeze vaguely, se-mi kept her pace on. "you gotta be quiet now."

her fingers slipped past the tight band, further and further. cold metal of her rings added to the feeling. you whined but se-mi shut you up with a kiss. she leaned her forehead against yours, a smug look on her face since she's leading the game.

her fingers made contact with your core, maybe if you just let out a scream right now you'd scare those women away.

"it's okay, you can do it." it did not help.

"please se-mi, i can't—" 

the second doors closed, she wasted no time slipping her fingers into you. you held onto her collar like a lifeline, head thrown back and air knocked out.

se-mi was mesmerized. wished it was a club rather than a place you have to get knocked out and drugged to be taken to. she will get you two outta here any means.

hitting all the right spots, distracting you with kisses and wandering hand you're about to collapse. "i'm-i'm close—"

"i know, i know," so she sped up, watching you fall apart, hitched breath in her ear so addicting, soft pleas she can't answer and oblige right now, hands gripping her hair. she'd take her time if she had one, hoping these cameras have decency so she can save you only for herself.

the least she can do in this short time is fix your shirt and jacket and pray you're coherent. "no worries, i don't leave a lady just like that but we gotta get out."

"hmm? sure, just give me a moment."

she chuckled, "not in that way. i'll tell you when we get back."

[prythianpages]

But the Worms | Azriel

Azriel x Green Witch | Azriel is woken up by your daughter in the middle of the night to answer some of her questions.

warnings: fluff, dad Az

word count: 943

a/n: Just a short little fic that can be read as a stand alone. This was inspired by a scene from Bob's Burgers lol.

Rain pattered against the window steadily, accompanied by the distant rumble of thunder. Every so often, the sky would flare with a jagged streak of lightning, briefly illuminating the room with a cold, blue light before plunging it back into shadow. The storm was a familiar, comforting backdrop to Azriel’s slumber.

But his shadows, ever vigilant, stirred with a whisper of unease.

Azriel’s eyes fluttered open, drawn by the shift in his shadows. That’s when he heard them. The faint, hurried sound of small footsteps. His shadows fluttered toward the door as they sensed the hesitant shuffle against the wooden floor.

He didn't need his shadows to tell him who was on the other side. Had it been his first born, he'd never hear the steps as she loved to sneak up on him,. The door would've been open abruptly with no hesitation whatsoever but it's been years since she last had a nightmare. A nightmare she didn't welcome, at least.

That was not the case tonight. It was his second-born. Sweet little Alora, who, true to her name, should be dreaming of unicorns and rainbows as she loved to recount to him every morning, rather than being awake.

His gaze flickered to you. While Azriel was a light sleeper, you were a heavy sleeper and truth be told, you were sound asleep, back turned toward him. A shadow tenderly caressed your back before he shifted his attention back to the door. He was already sitting up in the bed, blinking away the sleep or at least trying when the door opened quietly, muted with the help of his shadows.

Alora stood at the door. Her hair, the exact shade of yours, was disheveled, the bangs she cut herself last week splayed over her forehead awkwardly. A rite of passage, you had called it, reminding him that your first born had done the same.

Her eyes, the exact shade of his, were wide and glistening, and there was a pout on her face.

Azriel’s chest tightened at the sight, wanting nothing more than to soothe whatever troubled her, despite his fatigue. He extended his arms out, and Alora ran right into them, her small frame immediately enveloped by his.

Cradling her to his chest, he pushed her bangs back and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “Did you have a nightmare?” He asked, voice still heavy with sleep.

“No. I haven’t slept at all,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Azriel frowned, glancing at the clock. It was well past midnight, and his eyes were begging for sleep, lulled by the rain falling outside. “Is it the storm?”

Alora placed her hands on his chest, pushing herself up slightly. She spared a glance to your sleeping form before leaning in closer to her father, careful not to wake you with her voice. Though, Azriel doubted you'd wake at all.

Her hazel eyes, so innocent and pure, stared into his own. “Do you think worms have dreams too?”

Azriel's heart softened further. Her worries were so small, so wonderfully trivial compared to the burdens he had carried as a child.

“I’m sure they dream,” he murmured, gently pulling his daughter's head back to his chest, wishing for her to always have such simple worries. He also hoped she’d be content with his answer and finally drift off to sleep herself.

“But what do they dream?”

“The same things you do.” He replied, trying to stifle a yawn. He snuck a glance at you, still oblivious to your daughter’s insatiable curiosity.

“Do they get nightmares too?” 

Azriel fought back his groan. He loved his daughters deeply and strongly. He would go through all ends of the world for them. Any other time, he would entertain this conversation fully, but it was late, and Alora should be fast asleep like her sister. 

“Mel says worms come out when it storms so that we don’t hear their cries.”

Speak of the little devil herself. Mel was sure to get an earful from him. Tomorrow morning, or rather, in a couple of hours. Azriel took a deep breath, trying to muster the energy to explain, his body aching for rest.

Azriel could hear the thoughts swirling through her mind as she continued. “Why would they cry? Is it because of the bad dreams?”

“Don’t listen to your sister,” he said gently, running a hand through Alora’s tousled hair.

“But you told me to listen to her yesterday morning.”

“I did,” Azriel replied with a slight grimace, regretting that decision immensely at this very moment. Granted, he had said that after Mel told Lor to stop riling up Sprinkles, her pet scorpion. “But that’s different.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ll explain tomorrow,” he said, his voice a mix of patience and weariness.

“But the worms–”

“The worms don’t have nightmares and they come out during storms because they love the rain. Now, go to sleep. Please.”

Alora let out a small gasp, her hand losing its tension against his chest. “You promise?”

“Yes.” Azriel replied quickly, not certain what exactly he was promising. He'd deal with it later.

“Okay.”

When he finally felt her body relax in his arms, he let out a breath of relief. He held her tighter in his arms, shifting them to face in your direction before settling Alora between you both. He didn’t have the energy to take her back to her bed.

He gladly gave in to the heaviness of his eyelids, his eyes closing shut and ready to embrace sleep under the comfort of the rain once more--

"Daddy?"

He didn't bother opening his eyes. "Yes?"

"I love you."

His lips tugged up into a smile. "I love you too, my sweets."

Alora snuggled closer to him, tiny hands grasping onto his larger one and placing it over her face. She always found comfort in his touch, despite the scars that marred his hands. It was something that never failed to make his chest swell with warmth. Along with the way both his daughters always looked up to him, eyes full of affection and admiration.

His thumb caressed her cheek, soothing her as his shadows settled back into their corner of the room, curling into the bed Alora had gotten them for Solstice this year.

For centuries, his shadows had slept among other shadows, usually underneath the bed or in the corners of rooms. But Alora had felt bad for them one night, and when shopping for Solstice this year, she had asked you to take her to the pet store and picked out the softest bed for Azriel’s shadows.

Though his shadows had never complained or shown any interest in comfier sleeping habits, they had vibrated with excitement at the sight of the gift. Now, they slept there every night, happy and content, snuggling amongst one another and curling into a ball.

As his thoughts began to blur and drift, the world around him softened, the edges of his awareness becoming fuzzy and indistinct. Now that he knew your daughter was okay and her curiosity satiated, he could go back to sleep.

His breathing slowed, deep and even, matching the gentle rise and fall of your own breath. Just as he was about to give in to the sweet embrace of sleep–

“Daddy?”

He could barely manage a grunt in response.

“Would you still love me if I were a worm?”

Oh, this was definitely your daughter.

series tag list:@fxckmiup, @aria-chikage

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna

[kettlefire]

Constantine & the King

First time Constantine meets the Ghost King, he's expecting problems. In his line of work, when all the shadows in the room seem to be pulled toward a point in the room. Creating a dark portal that suddenly glowed a startling green, it's more than concerning.

However, Constantine was thrown off by the young man that stepped out of the portal. Young man could be putting it generously. The kid looked barely legal to drink.

However the kid was holding a scroll that looked thicker than his own head. A crown, ring, and cape that just screamed royalty.

Constantine did not expect the kid to greet with joy and friendliness.

It was the Ghost King. The being that held full control over that aspect of the mythical realms. His name was Danny, and Constantine found the kid's lack of professionalism a nice break.

That scroll? Every contract Constantine ever signed that used his soul as a bargianing chip.

Now, Constantine expected annoyance. If his soul was technically meant to end up in the grasp of thw King, wouldn't the kid be pissed?

After all, Constantine was certain one of those contracts was with the prior Ghost King.

Except, Danny loved it. He was all grins and laughter as he spoke about it. The kid complained about the amount of paperwork, sure. Who wouldn't?

Aside from that, Danny adored Constantine's work. His nonchalantness when it came to signing away his soul.

Danny relished in the chaos he has happening among various other entities. Praised Constantine, and thanked him for the entertainment.

Constantine realized that this Ghost King was a brat. He enjoyed the chaos and the drama as long as it hurt absolutely anyone. This kid was a little shithead.

And Constantine got a confirmation. No matter what, no matter what contracts he signed. His soul was going to end up in Danny's hands.

Constantine didn't mind that. He liked the spirit the kid had. Found a fondness for the King.

A fondness that only grew with every impromptu meeting. Every time the room grew colder, and the shadows moved and warped in the room.

Constantine grew accustomed to it. He looked forward to it.

Then it happened.

Constantine was at the Justice League Watchtower. A simple consultation, nothing too crazy. It was all going to be fine.

Until Constantine felt the shift in the room.

The temperature dropped. The shadows shifted and contorted, and a portal began to form.

Constantine waved off the other heroes concern and defense. Turning towards the forming portal, and prepared to see the kid. The kid who was easily his favorite being in the world at this point.

Except that changed once he saw the familiar being step through the portal.

Maybe step was the wrong word. Danny basically stumbled out of the green portal. Landing harshly on his knees in front of the league.

Constantine wasted no time rushing forward. Pulling the kid close to him, and taking in the sight. Looking for any sign of what was wrong.

Blood and a green substance coated the kid's closed. And Constantine noted the cape was completely missing. The kid was in tears, shaking horrible and in a state of complete hysteria.

All Constantine knew, was that he was going to make them pay.

Whoever brought this normally confident and carefree king to his knees, wasn't going to last much longer.

Those bastards will pay.

[wtfaniii]

Req for a Hwang In-ho os with kind off parenting scenarios like what if by mistake a toddler was brought to the games and he ends up in the caretaker roll (and yes he gives off daddy vibes ya know !)

God I loved this one, I feel like him would be great protector.

¿What if...? a little girl entered the games

little girl x Hwang In-ho father figure

Summary: Your eleven-year-old self is taken to an island believing you'll be a little entertainment.

Warning: In-ho may not be that attached to the original character ¡this man will be a big hug bear here!

Note: I do my best to answer the rest of the requests, thanks for your support!! And if I make a mistake I accept constructive criticism!

You lived alone on the street, you didn't know anything about your parents and every day was a struggle until one day you saw a man in a suit playing Ddakji with another person, when you saw that he gave money as a reward if you beat him quickly went to him.

At first he ignored you and walked away with you right behind him but you were so persistent that after walking a few blocks he finally turned to with a raised eyebrow.

You played with him and won every time, received money and a card to continue playing for more money.

You didn't owe anything, he knew that, but he thought he was doing you a favor by opening the doors to the slaughterhouse, maybe it would be better than you continuing to sleep in a box and eat leftover food.

"She's going to die anyway, I'm just making her suffering shorter" thought the salesman.

What he didn't know is that a certain man would take a liking to you as soon as he saw you.

You played "green light, red light" and managed to get through without a scratch, you were scared but Gi-hun made sure to keep you safe during this game.

—¡They are bastards! ¡They brought a little girl for the love of God! —456 screamed to the sky as the ceiling loomed over their heads, the other player 390 covered your eyes so you wouldn't see all the carnage they left behind in the first round.

Meanwhile... The Front Man's firm footsteps echoed through the hallways as he made his way to the control booth, when he arrived, he spoke in a voice that chilled the blood of his employees.

—¿Who let her in?

He knew the salesman, he knew the heartless idiot had no empathy for even a puppy but the fact that these guards had dressed you up and put you in that arena gave him a headache.

When he was given the number of the one who allowed you to get into the first game, he personally took it upon himself to put a bullet in him head.

He thought about getting you out immediately but considering the fact that he would also be infiltrating there and how after that massacre you were playing and talking non-stop with 390 and 456 as if nothing had happened, he let you continue but this time under his personal supervision.

It was quite easy for him to infiltrate and join Gi-hun, keeping his enemy close would be very useful but he also kept his eyes on you.

—Eat this too —In-ho handed you his can of food when he saw how quickly you had finished the rice, sausage and egg.

—No thanks —The smile you gave him almost made his hard heart beat—You should eat too, but if you insist so much you can give me the sausages.

You finished with a smile, to which he returned the gesture and gave you part of his portion.

During the night he took care of covering you with the blanket so that you wouldn't be cold and of laying you in bed next to him in case you had a nightmare, but to his surprise and that of your new friends, you slept all night without interruptions.

When it was time to go to the next game, In-ho kept you by his side so that you would be on his team with Gi-hun.

His team made it to the end so he wasn't worried if they lost, if they did neither you nor he would have died and there would be no witnesses.

He would break just a few of the rules to stay you alive.

Every time some players were eliminated, you covered your ears and closed your eyes tightly, something that moved him so much that he also distracted you by talking to you every time the guards removed the bodies to prevent you from seeing all that show of death and blood.

After the second vote Jung-bae was sorry for choosing the circle so he apologized to you and Jun-hee.

—It's okay, as long as we're together ¡we'll win! —You said with a beaming smile as Young-il ruffled your hair in excitement.

The day seemed long in there, but you didn't get bored with Young-il. He told you some children's stories and played with you.

However, when you were playing with the empty milk carton you accidentally hit the back of player 100.

—Oops, sorry sir —You said politely, reaching out to grab the little box from the floor, but before you could do so, he stepped on it hard, stepping on two of your fingers of the hand in the process.

Your cry of pain caught In-ho's immediate attention, he cut off the conversation he was having with Gi-hun and went to you.

—¡¿How is it possible that you are still alive?! ¡You are just a little brat!

In-ho effortlessly picked you and hug against his chest.

With just one look he silenced the man, it wasn't a warning, it was a threat, that man had hurt you and he would make sure him paid the consequences, not now, but he would definitely suffer.

—I told you not to stray too far from me —He said as he walked back to his place with the others.

You just nodded still with tears in your eyes and hugging him by the neck, he left you on the bed and took your hand to analyze the damage.

—You didn't hurt yourself much, you'll be better after pouring cold water on yourself in the bath —He said trying to calm you down, he dried the tears from your cheeks and kissed your forehead, it was an act he did on impulse and it even surprised himself a little.

"You'll be a great father" Gi-hun told him when you were sleeping, which was strange, the last time he heard that was when his wife talked to him about starting a family, he silently thanked but deep down he felt different, as if you had been able to reach the light inside him, a light he had considered extinct.

During the third game he stayed close to you, every time it was time to team up and run into a room he made sure to hold your hand.

Until the time came to form a team of four, there were many in his group so you and he separated, the counter reached zero and In-ho managed to get you two into a room and close it.

—But we're missing two —You said somewhat nervously and scared while the shots rang out from outside.

—Listen to me —In-ho knelt in front of you and held your shoulders —I need you to keep this a secret,

He gave a quick glance to the camera in the corner, they weren't going to kill them even if they cheated but now he needed no one else to find out about this.

—But it's cheating... —You murmured, confused and still a little scared.

—Promise me you won't say anything about this, not to Gi-hun or the others.

You nodded silently, you didn't say anything and that, without knowing it, would cost the lives of some of your friends.

That same night, there was a rebellion organized by 456.

You wanted to go with them, believing yourself strong enough to help them, but Young-il opposed it.

—I'm not going to let you come with us—He said firmly as he took you by the hand and led you back to the rest of the players —It's dangerous, you will stay with them until we return.

He left you in the hands of 149, 222 and 007, the older woman was the one who had the most empathy for you so In-ho knew you would be fine until his guards came for you.

[...]

After returning to his place as Front man, he sent a group of guards to control the rest of the players in the room and get you out of there.

"Player 398, you must come with us" when you heard that and saw the guards coming towards you, you hugged 149, you were scared, after all you were a girl and didn't know what was happening.

Geum-ja also held you tightly to prevent you from being taken away but it was useless, In-ho was surprised by how you won the affection of her, Jun-hee, Hyun-ju and Myung-gi to the point that they were able to stand up to his soldiers.

As were led through the colorful hallways you bit the hand of one of the pink guards and kicked the other to escape, you had spent entire short life on the streets so escaping was one of your skills, the first thing you did was call some of your friends, including Young-il.

But there came a time when you started to cry, believing that they were dead and you sat on the ground, you remained there scared and worried until once again two guards found you, this time accompanied by a man dressed in grey and a black mask.

When you looked up, he could see your watery eyes and red nose, which made his affection for you grow and not caring about his own rules about secret identity, he took off his mask and crouched down to be at your level.

He didn't know what to say to you, how to handle this situation in which you were so confused and overwhelmed, so when you hugged him he just returned the gesture and got up from the floor with you.

—It's okay, you're going to be fine —He whispered to you calmly while caressing your hair.

In-ho didn't know anything about being a father, he hadn't thought about being one since his wife died but he would do everything possible to take care of you from now on, for a few seconds he thought about sending you with Jun-ho and his mother but he preferred not to, besides, you didn't want to leave him alone for even a second.

He would teach you how to use weapons and defend yourself, he would also try to get you to accompany him everywhere or remain under surveillance, you quickly became a weakness so the safer you are the safer he will be too.

He didn't explain everything to you in detail, much less what role he had in these games, he believed that you wouldn't forgive him so the less you know the better for you, but you weren't stupid, the life you had before meeting him made you analyze things better than many others.

You knew that whatever his job was, it wasn't good but you didn't judge him or talk to him.

To you, he was like your father and that would make you defend him tooth and nail from anyone who wanted to hurt him.

In case Gi-hun ends the games, Jun-ho would probably take responsibility for you and let you visit In-ho in prison, (when you're older, you'll probably help him escape and move to another continent).

But if not, you will probably be given the front man position when you grow up because you are trained enough by this man, you will be calculating and probably a younger, female version of him.

N/A: Ok, I hope this is what you expected and thanks for this idea!

I honestly think In-ho wouldn't canonically take responsibility for a child, maybe he would protect sometimes like 222, but I don't think he would care afterwards, that man is beyond help 😭

[deadsetobsessions]

Fae adjacent! Danny, pt. 3

Jason returns to consciousness with a scream trapped before it could come to life. He twisted his neck back and forth and back and forth.

It was the last thing he did before he died. When the Joker left and told him to say hello to the big guy, Jason could not muster up the energy to make a single sound.

But Bruce… Bruce was here this time, heavy head making the mattress by his leg dip.

The scars that ran over his face stretched as he blinked.

“…B?”

Bruce’s head shot up, eyes bloodshot and bags heavier than a Gotham socialite’s solid gold Dior purse.

“Jaylad.”

Jason- Jason was alive now. Bruce’s hug felt warm, the tear spot on his shoulder was damp as his dad cried while hugging him.

And Jason should be happy. He’s alive again. His dad loved him.

But all he could think about was the cold of the coffin, the squelch of mud and dirt, and the unerringly wrong feeling of knowing he came back but he came back wrong.

——

Tim had wandered Gotham in the weeks following Jason’s reawakening. He wasn’t avoiding Bruce Wayne. He wasn’t. But Tim knows he’ll have to answer questions soon. He just wasn’t ready.

Tim looked up at the den of pixies- pixies were real!- and squared his shoulders. He did his research. Tim Drake walks into the den with nothing but foolish hope and Gotham-brand audacity. He’ll get answers about Danny today. He will.

——

Soul-Plucker, they called him. Danny Fenton, the proprietor of Fenton Artifacts. The High King.

“I thought King Oberon was the High King?”

The pixies chittered at the little human that could have been kin. Their wings fluttered at their backs, muffled by cloth. It’s not often they find kindred. It really is too bad that Fenton had his mark on the child. How they would have loved to whisk him away. He would have made entertainment that would last a millennia! Or until the court decided to cut of his tongue, at least. How well he had tricked them!

“Of course! Of course! King Oberon is our king, see?” A younger pixie swirled her drink, a shining red and blue thing. “But he’s the High King of another court!”

“The High King of the Infinite Realms, encompassing far more than King Oberon and Queen Tatianna could ever reach.”

Another pixie chimed in, on their fourth glass of amber colored nectar. “The Soul-Plucker!”

“The Beginning of the End.”

“Afterlife IRS department!”

“He who wanders.”

“Death-Caller.” Another one said, grave and serious.

“The Arbiter.”

“So, he’s like, the boss of bosses?” Tim asked. What kind of entity did he make a deal with? Why was he kind to Tim? What motives did Danny have?

“Uh huh!”

“Then what’s he’s doing here?”

“Who knows? The whims of the most powerful are unknown to us.” The pixies clustered around Tim. “Won’t you play another game with us, Alvin? You’re so good at it! Oh, how about a drink?”

“Can’t. I gotta get home. Also, I’m a minor.” Tim slipped passed their fluttering wings and manic smiles. They move to let him past, waving drinks at him in a tantalizing manner.

“And where is that, sweet one?”

“Somewhere, Liltri. Somewhere.”

Tim Drake was a child of pure will, pure hard headed foolishness, a mind sharper than any blade, and luck more terrifying than the creatures he now dealt with. And so, he stepped out of the Pixie Bar with more questions than answers but he stepped out unharmed.

——

“Who are you?” The shadows shift as Lady Gotham unveiled her knight.

Danny felt his eyes cool, glinting green and blue. Lady Gotham forgets who her liege is.

“Haven’t you done your research? You who walks along the edge of shadows, my shop is not a place to dismiss decorum.”

“You brought… you brought him back. How. Why?”

“You want answers? Then give me something in return.”

Danny gestured to the circle his clients have come to know as the deal-maker. Danny doesn’t ask for much in return. Just… something equal to the request.

“Ah,” Danny pointed up at the sign. “I am legally able to deny you my service, so don’t get any ideas.”

Batman was studied up on myths. But he was not a believer, and that both hindered and helped him. What was a god, in front of the faithless? What was the faithless in front of power?

The vigilante stepped into the circle, unable to see the subtle shimmering of magic but remained unbound by the virtue of his disbelief.

“What do you want for answers?”

“You do not often deal with the occult, do you?” Danny tapped the counter. Batman remained silent.

“I have a soft spot for vigilantes,” Danny continued. “And so I won’t ask for much. Just… your cape.”

“Not my hair? A body part?”

“If you were dealing with the fae, you’d probably would lose something of that value, yes.”

“You aren’t fae.”

Danny merely smiled. “Do we have a deal?”

“My cape in exchange for honest answers to my questions.”

Danny huffed, approval glinting in his eyes.

“Your cape for honest answers to three questions,” Danny pointed at the sign, still hanging above them. “Three questions or nothing.”

Batman grimaced. “Deal.”

“Ask your questions, protector.”

“Why did you bring Jason back to life?”

“I didn’t.” Danny grinned. The Bat should have stipulated that he must answer elaborately. He looked like he realized that. Oh well. His mistake. Well, not like there was actual magic binding Danny, so technically, Danny could lie off his ass.

“…Will Jason stay alive?” Danny had a heart and this man was a much better father than Jack ever was.

“Yes. Barring unnatural causes, his soul is firmly attached to his body and will not shuffle off the mortal coil without warning.”

The lines of Batman’s shoulders slumped. Relief. He paused.

“What are your intentions in this city?”

“To run my shop… and to enjoy retirement.”

Danny laughed at Batman’s stoic face. “Disappointed I am not up to nefarious deeds, little knight?”

“No.”

Danny tapped the table. “My payment?”

Batman shucked off his cape and handed it to Danny.

“Why my cape?”

Danny smiled a fanged little thing. “Because your costume looks stupid without it and I could use a laugh.”

Batman grumbled and turned to leave. Ha paused, eyes catching on the glint of camera lenses.

“How much for that?”

“For the little sparrow’s camera?” Danny sighed, eyes fixed on the form of a vigilante who was more kind than angry for once. “Two thousand dollars.”

“That’s a huge markup.”

“That’s how much it means to me, compared to the rest.” Danny slid beyond the counter, a ghostly air about him. He pinned his newly earned cape up. “My shop, my prices, little knight.”

Batman silently handed him two thousand dollars and left with the little sparrow’s camera.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-four —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: ily

England passes in beautiful shades of green, the last time you'll see it, so you soak it in. Rolling hills streak the landscape like scars. In the distance, you glimpse faded architecture, imagining people living and working there. An ivy-covered university appears, and you picture yourself dozing off in a lecture. These little fantasies entertain you for the next two hours, but Blue isn't distracted by the same game. When you look at her arm, you notice pink scratches just below where the friendship bracelet hugs her wrist, made by her nails mindlessly.

You tear your eyes from the window and nudge your shoulder against hers. "Hey. What do you call a cow with no legs?"

Her lips twitch at the broken silence and she lifts her azure eyes to yours, a bead of sunlight catching in them. "What?"

"Ground beef."

Those eyes roll. "That's stupid."

Nereida smiles from the other side of her. "Oh, I've got one. What did the ocean say to the beach?"

Blue sighs. "Ghost said that one before. Nothing—it just 'waved'."

A recoil passes over Nereid's kind eyes. "I apologize. That's the only one I know."

Quiet air fills the space again, and when you notice Blue's nails dig back into her wrist, you gently lace your fingers through hers and pull her hand to your lap, allowing her to scratch your thigh, instead. 

When an old theme park erects from the grass, Blue's interest piques. "Woah. What is that?"

"None of it works anymore," Ghost mutters, one hand on the wheel.

"It looks cool, though. I have to pee, anyway. Can we stop here?"

"I could use a little stretch for my legs," Nereida adds.

The pitstop is brief enough to allow Blue the chance to curiously look through the decrepit bumper cars, carousel, and even a small rollercoaster that still has the car sitting mid-track. She grabs Ari's hand to show him, but he doesn't seem as intrigued given the pale look on his face. He ends up rushing to a bush and keeling over.

"The back gets a bit bumpy," Kyle says when he notices your expression. "He'll be fine."

"I'll switch with him for the rest of the way."

"You don't have to."

"It's fine. He can probably entertain Blue better than I can."

Everyone uses the small break to eat a little lunch. You already had some of the beans Ghost packed, so you feel uncertain whether you should eat anymore of his food. You haven't even discussed sharing. Rather, you ration the jerky you made and save the rest. 

It is a small meal, so you eat it slowly to trick your stomach into feeling full. Just before getting back to the truck, you spot a tree by the entrance to Kettering Kastle. Hickory. Paul told you once they make for great arrows, a softer hardwood. Pliable yet strong. This excites you. Your sheath is only half-full, so you grab your serrated knife and cut a few midsized branches to take with you.

Sitting in the truck bed is far from pleasant. The tail wind makes it hard to breathe, and you have to grab the side of the truck to keep yourself from flying out. Kyle notices your struggle and seems amused, but reaches an arm over in offering. You hold onto him and it does some to keep you stable. 

The motorway passes through Kettering, which is a smaller city. The smell is retched, though the only Greys you spot don't take notice to you, trapped between buildings and toppled telephone poles. You make out a sign that reads A14 and figure it is headed to Cambridge. If you continue this pace, you'll reach the coastline by sundown.

Of course, things don't work out that way. The road becomes more obstructed with abandoned vehicles. Ghost has to weave through them like a maze, wasting time and fuel. The sun crawls higher in the sky. Finally, there are a few kilometers of straight road. Speed ticks up only to come to an abrupt halt when he reaches an underpass. You let go of Kyle and stand up to see what has caused the stop—a semi truck completely blocks the way through it.

"Jesus," you mutter.

Consecutive slams of the fronts doors indicate Price and Ghost are checking it out. Kyle hops out with them. After a few minutes, he returns and explains with a sigh, "We'll have to backtrack and find a side street that will lead to another motorway ramp."

"That's going to eat time. The sun will set soon."

He offers his arm again as Ghost begins reversing. "I know. It's fine, we'll just get to the water tomorrow. No rush, yeah?"

It adds an extra hour and a half. The sky turns a remarkable orange that would've had you gawking if not for your irritation of having to stop again. Ghost pulls over just before it gets too dark to set up the tents in a small market town called Haverhill. There's hardly anything here except fields of bright, yellow flowers and little shops with slanted CLOSED signs. It is actually pleasant and well-preserved, until you catch the distinguishable shape of a corpse hanging from one of the telephone poles, a black trash bag over its head.

"Don't look at it."

"Nothing I haven't seen before," you dismiss under your breath. 

A more forested patch of land at the edge of the town is where you make camp for the night.

They eat canned goods and you finish your last pieces of jerky. This means you'll have to find more food for yourself tomorrow, or ask Ghost for some. The thought makes you anxious. The last thing you want is to seem like an extra burden. Dead weight that they'd be better off leaving behind. But he also didn't comment when you ate the beans. The uncertainty of where you stand means you need to make yourself useful.

The men need rest, so you offer to keep watch.

Prices dismisses you. "You don't have to, Twix. The three of us can take turns."

"No, really. I'll keep watch and you guys can all get more sleep. I've just been sitting in a car all day, anyway."

He gives in, visibly fatigued after being up over twenty-four hours.

Ghost and Price sleep first.

That leaves you sitting with Kyle when the stars begin to flicker like bright, little heartbeats against the black night.

You pull out your smoother knife—the one you found back at that base—to carve the sticks you found, careful of your bandaged thumb. 

Kyle lays his rifle across his lap. "First time I am seeing you smile today and it's while carving sticks." 

"Arrows," you correct, holding one up and tapping your index lightly against the sharpened point. "And it's good wood. Hickory."

"You're an easy woman to please," he teases.

"My tastes have changed over the years."

"Really? I can't imagine you as one of those people who cared too much about nice things."

You flash him a raised brow. "Are you saying I was cheap?"

He nudges your knee. "Not what I'm saying. You just seem like someone who would prefer a little movie date over a fancy dinner."

"I liked sushi. Is that fancy?"

He hums. "There were some good cheap sushi spots in London—hole in the wall type places. When there was some kid doing their homework at one of the booths, that's when you knew it'd be good shit."

"You're making me hungry."

"Well, you should've eaten more." He looks at you knowingly. "You're scared to ask anyone for food, aren't you?"

Are you really that easy to read? You place the half-finish arrow across your knees and look at the ground, brushing your fingers absentmindedly through the soft grass. "I just—I am aware of my place here."

"Your place?"

Your hands tightens the grass into a fistful. "I am at the bottom."

"The bottom," he repeats slowly, and his voice lowers. "You really think that?"

You rip the grass and sprinkle it over your boot, glancing up at him. His eyes have darkened, or maybe they are simply mirroring the sky. "I am not complaining. I understand that everyone here has others who they would prefer to keep alive over me, that's all. I just don't want to stick out anymore than I already do."

He reels in your words. "You're forgetting that everyone here has their own perspective, their own wants. It is not as simple as you're making it seem." In a change of topic, he reaches for the arrow on your lap. "Here—let me help."

You hand him the knife and he begins carving expertly as a few minutes of silence ensue. You are lost in your thoughts, keeping your eyes on the surroundings, when he suddenly stops in his handiwork, holding up the knife. You watch him study the leather handle carefully, shake his head to himself, then look at you.

"Where did you get this?"

"Huh? Oh—I found it. At a military base actually."

Your answer seems to strike him, and he releases a disbelieving exhale. "The one near Manchester?"

You nod. 

"It was my brother's."

What?

Reading your expression, he shows you the handle and rubs his thumb over a small etching at the bottom that you can barely make out in the moonlight: PG.

"Patrick Garrick," he explains in a murmur, and your chest tightens. "I didn't even notice it at first. It's been years since I had it. The last time...the last time was when shit happened, and I lent it to a friend of mine at the base."

"Who?"

"Soap," he says, a memory taking over his expression as he rubs his jaw. "He was the other member of our spec ops unit."

"You... Someone mentioned him before. Ghost—he asked you guys about him when you arrived. You don't know what happened to him, right?"

Kyles nods. "He stayed back at the base to keep helping even when Price and I jumped ship. That was the Scottish in him—stubborn as hell. Soap was just his codename, of course. Like mine was Gaz." He looks up at you with a faint dimple. "And yours is Twix, huh?"

"I guess." You press your tongue to your teeth and grab the knife, frowning at it as you try to recall exactly where you grabbed it from. "What was his real name, then?"

"John MacTavish."

"I think—I think your friend is dead. I'm sorry." You gaze at him. "I remember now. I found it in one of the rooms, and there was a skeleton with that name. He... he had it quick, though."

The expression on his typically warm eyes turns unreadable and his shoulders stiffen in the slightest. You wonder if you should have bothered sharing this, but then he shrugs it off with a sigh. "It's okay. Figured as much. Many people have died. He's just another name to the list."

Instinct draws your hand to his shoulder, and the muscles softens beneath your touch. "I'm still sorry."

His eyes find yours. 

He smiles solemnly.

Then, somewhere in it all, he leans over and closes the gap. The sudden, foreign feel of lips pressed against your own stuns you. His lips move gently, cold and soft against yours, and only when he threads a hand through your hair to pull you closer do you fully register what he is doing. Your eyes fly open and you break away, leaping to your feet.

"Why did you—what was that?"

He stands up with you. "It felt right in the moment."

He tries to touch your shoulder but you flinch away. "I'm sorry. I just—I was just trying to comfort you."

"I misread the moment." His eyes are clouded. "So you didn't want it?"

Did you? Your mind feels fuzzy. "I don't know. I need to...I want to be alone right now."

You grab your knife and sticks, rushing around the tents to find solace by the truck, needing to process what just happened. As you move, you bump into a hard chest—Ghost. Somehow you failed to hear the jagged teeth of the tent's zipper. Avoiding his gaze, you try to slip past, but he grips your elbow, holding you in place.

"What is it?"

The lie wedges out of your lips. "Nothing. I just—thought I saw something so I am going to sit over there and keep an eye out."

The difference in height leads to his stare burning into your scalp. "What did you see?" 

"I don't know. Something. Maybe just an animal."

His hold doesn't soften. Stoicism forces itself on your face as you press your lips into a line.

You're easy to ready.

He finally lets go. "I'll take over now. You can sleep."

You find yourself nodding soundlessly, internally glad to be relieved of this duty. 

Sleep offers peace of mind, at least until morning. 

Dawn breaks over the small town in a quiet clatter of spoons against cans and the shuffling of bags being packed up. The dream you wake up from was one of an old life—the last kiss you experienced. But it fizzles quickly from the recesses of your brain the moment your lids shutter open. 

Both you and Kyle seem keen on acting as though nothing happened. More than anything, you are confused. You try to search inside that box of yours for how you feel, but all you find is fear. You've barely been able to keep up with the fear. You busy yourself with helping get everything back in the truck, fitting the supplies like a jigsaw puzzle. You have nothing to eat. A day or two without food is doable until you can properly hunt for something—

"Here."

It is Nereida who catches you by the truck before leaving. She practically shoves a can of tuna into your hands and you look up at her in hesitant gratitude.

"We're all sharing food," she says. "That is how it should be."

"Thank you. Really, this is—"

"Don't thank me. There is plenty for everyone."

For now, your mind chides, but you swallow the thought while scarfing down the meal you pretend is London's finest sushi. 

Once everyone is ready, you head to the back of the truck, expecting an awkward encounter with Kyle, only to find Ghost sitting there beside the kayak, hands relaxed behind his head.

"What are you doing?"

"Needed a break from driving."

You glance at the front to see that Price is behind the wheel, and Kyle is in the passenger side. In a way, you're relieved. You breathe through your nose and hoist yourself up. The bumpy ride is quiet at first. His body takes up space so that each pothole nudges your shoulder or knee against his. The morning ages. You swear you can see there coast at one point, but it must be your imagination, because the passing sign reads Halstead. 

"You really need to work on lying better."

The brash accent registers low against the hum of the engine, and his eyes are closed when you look over. He is leaned back, one leg straight and one bent, seeming to enjoy the seat more than you are. 

"Fine. I'm bad at lying."

"Care to share the truth, then?"

He needn't elaborate for you to know what he is referring to. "I was...I was upset because I found out my knife—the one I took from the base—belonged to Kyle's brother."

His brow ticks.

You continue, "But he actually gave it to Soap, and I—I found his dog tag on a skeleton. John MacTavish. You were friends with him, weren't you?"

His eyes open, but they are too murky to decipher from just his profile. His jaw flexes. "I wasn't a man with friends, Twix."

"You know what I mean."

There is a pause, and then, "He was a sergeant under my command. A good man. Grating, at times. But good."

"Well, I'm sorry he didn't make it. If you of all people say he was a good guy, then he really must've been."

He hums in agreement. Thoughtful. Then—two gloved fingers touch your jaw, turning your eyes to his. "You are still lying, and still bad at it."

You wet your lips. "I wasn't—"

"Help!"

Ghost drops your chin and grabs the gun from his waist.

Your eyes flash around at the sound of a second plea. There is a man at the side of the road, leg draped in bloodied bandages, but there isn't a chance for you to register more of him when the truck takes a sudden, sharp left down a side street and you brace yourself by grabbing the edge with both arms. The small city-scape whirls by in a blur. Ghost swears under his breath, scanning the area as he bends on one knee and keeps the gun secure in his grip. Confused, you grab his arm.

"That man was injured."

His voice is harsh and alert. "He has fucking friends somewhere here. He was just trying to—"

A shattering sound. An audible pop. You're thrown against the truck bed even harder this time as it skids across the street, nearly slamming into a flipped-over car. Ghost covers you, the weight of him keeping you from flying out. The truck swerves to a halt. Everything is black until his weight lifts. He barks an order, jumps out, and pulls you with him.

Pressed against the side of the truck, the world becomes consumed by loud sounds and the distinct smell of gunpowder. Ghost rips open the passenger door and urgently pulls Blue, Ari, and Nereida out, ordering them to keep low. From the other side, you hear Price and Kyle shouting, followed by another series of gunshots.

[sunni-stuff]

I have bad baby fever so take this.

—★! Tags: Established relationship, baby? Afab!!

Ghost never thought about having children before. He didn't understand them; they confused him. Worst of all, he envied them. How could someone willingly bring a child into a world filled with so much chaos that men like him and the task force had to clean it all up? How could a child smile so innocently while his childhood was nothing short of a nightmare?

He didn't want kids.

That was until he met your niece, Lola. She had to stay overnight, interrupting the plans he made with the team. Johnny wanted to sit down and play a game of drunk poker, but upon seeing chubby little Lola sitting on the rug playing with her blocks, his heart practically melted at the sight.

"Lt., you didn't tell us the missus gave birth," Soap teased, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Ghost snorted, shaking his head. "She's not mine, Johnny. That's my niece, Lola."

The men exchanged amused glances, but their attention quickly turned back to Lola, who looked up from her blocks with a bright, toothy grin. She babbled something unintelligible and held up a block as if showing off her masterpiece.

Ghost found himself smiling beneath his mask, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his chest. He wasn't used to this feeling—this softness. It was alien to him, yet he couldn't deny the tiny spark of joy Lola brought into the room.

The poker game was postponed as the men took turns entertaining Lola. She giggled at Gaz's funny faces, clapped along with Soap's silly songs, and stared wide-eyed at Price's stories. But it was Ghost who seemed to captivate her the most. She crawled over to him, tugging at his pant leg until he picked her up.

Simon held her awkwardly at first, unsure of what to do. But as Lola nestled into his arms, a sense of calm washed over him. She looked up at him with those big, innocent eyes, and for a moment, all the chaos and darkness in his life faded away.

He still didn't understand children, and they still confused him. But holding Lola, Simon began to see a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a place for a bit of light in his shadowed world.

Needless to say, after that eye-opening experience, Simon quickly became attached to the loveable child. He tells your sibling to call on their work days if they need a babysitter, claiming he's just trying to help lift the burden. Family helps family, after all.

Wrong!!

In reality, that man is completely smitten by Lola. Loves her to death. The moment he gets free time Simon is calling up your sibling, asking if they need any help, maybe needing a break from the child for a while and if Simon gets the okay, he's speeding to pick up Lola and whisking her away to your home.

Simon drops everything for her. In the middle of a workout? Give him 5 minutes. He's a fresh man, ready to play dinosaurs. Hell, he doesn't even know what playing dinosaurs is besides the fact Lola loves t-rex and being chased in her green dinosaur onesie. He went as far as to buy countless toys and books for Lola to play with in his home office, no less! Her favorite story books are tucked away in his desk, burying the paperwork he was supposed to have done for Price.

If Lola throws a tantrum with you, he immediately gives you a side-eye. What did you do to make the princess unhappy?

The man absolutely adores that cute muffin, and you couldn't be more shocked. Simon "Ghost" Riley, your husband, who refused to think about children, was now wrapped around your tiny niece's finger! Heck, she's practically your kid now, especially since Lola sleeps in between the two of you, cuddling up to Simon contently.

Simon treats Lola like she is his own child, so imagine his heartbreak when your sibling gives you two the news that they're going to be visiting home for a while. He's distraught, already missing the tiny ball of life, moping about your shared home putting away Lola's toys when suddenly an idea rings in his head.

His beautiful, hardworking doll can give him a child.

♡! I have a lot of drafts, and this was one. My writing is all funky and all over the place bc it's written between being awake and having no sleep!! I have more stuff I want to post, and I might continue this.

[uns4lted]

ɪ'ᴍ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ

pairings: karasu tabito x gn!reader, otoyo eita x gn!reader, kenyu yukimiya x gn! reader tags/warnings: reader and karasu are already together, pre-relationship stage in otoya's and kenyu's! genre: fluff synopsis: the first time the boys realized that they're in love with you. boys being so giddy lol.

── .✦ karasu tabito

It was just a stupid crush, really.

At least, that’s what Karasu told himself in the beginning. Liking you had been easy. You made things fun, kept him entertained with your quick wit and little quirks. Being with you felt like a game he couldn’t lose, but he didn’t think too much about what it all meant. Love? That was too heavy for something that felt so light.

But then there was that moment.

It wasn’t anything big. Just an ordinary evening in his place. You were on the couch, reading a novel, while some random show played in the background. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch with his own phone in hand, pretending to care about whatever it was on the screen.

You sighed, soft and quiet, but enough to pull his attention away. When he glanced up, you weren’t looking at him. Your gaze was distant, you were caught in a thought you weren’t planning to share.

“What’s up?” he asked, his voice casual, not expecting much of an answer.

“Nothing,” you said after a pause, your lips curving into a faint smile. “I just feel lucky, that’s all.”

You didn’t explain, didn’t even look at him for long. Instead, your hand found its way to his dark blue hair, brushing through it in a way that was both careless and comforting. It wasn’t the first time you’d done it, but something about the way you did it this time made his chest feel tight. You were so at ease that being with him was the most natural thing in the world.

He stayed quiet, watching as you went back to your book like you hadn’t just shifted his entire perspective. It wasn’t just what you said—it was how you said it, it wasn’t something you had to think about. Like being grateful for him was as simple as breathing.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. Usually, he’d have some smart remark ready, some way to brush off whatever you were making him feel. But now? He just sat there, staring at you, wondering how he hadn’t seen it before.

He couldn’t pinpoint when the shift had happened. Maybe it was gradual, something that had been building all along. But in that moment, he knew with absolute certainty: this wasn’t just some crush or infatuation. It was deeper than that. You’d become something he didn’t think he needed, something he couldn’t imagine letting go.

Karasu leaned his head back against the couch, closing his eyes for a moment. The warmth of your words lingered, settling into places he didn’t even realize had been empty.

Love wasn’t supposed to sneak up on him like this. Somehow, you’d done it anyway.

── .✦ otoya eita

This goofy womanizer doesn’t do love or some shit.

Otoya wasn’t the type to lose sleep over anyone. Flirting came easy, and leaving things just the way they were made it even easier. He knew how to have a good time, how to make someone laugh or blush, but feelings? Commitment? Nah, that wasn’t his thing. Relationships were messy, and Otoya didn’t stick around long enough to get caught in all that.

Or so he thought.

It was late, the kind of night where the city outside his window had shifted to a low hum. You were over, laid across his bed and flipping through a magazine you’d brought with you. He leaned against the headboard, half-listening to you ramble about something you’d found amusing in the pages.

“Look at this,” you said, your voice bright as you held up the magazine. The glossy picture was of some ridiculous piece of clothing—a neon-green sweater with feathers along the sleeves. “Can you imagine someone actually wearing this?”

Otoya smirked, the corner of his mouth tugging up lazily. “You’d pull it off.”

“Oh, please.” You laughed, the sound light and effortless, but your eyes narrowed in mock suspicion. “You’re just saying that so I won’t roast your fashion choices next.”

“Hey, my style’s flawless, thank you very much,” he shot back, nudging your leg with his foot.

The banter was easy, the kind he thrived on. But he's bothered with the look you gave him, your smile plastered on your lips, the sparkle in your eyes that paused just a moment longer than it should have. That did something to him.

“You’re so full of yourself, Otoya,” you said, shaking your head, but your smile didn’t waver.

“And you love it though,” he retorted, his grin widening.

But as the words hung in the air, he realized how much he wished they were true.

You rolled your eyes and went back to your magazine, oblivious to the way his heart was suddenly pounding harder than it had any right to. He tried to shake it off, but it was no use. His gaze kept drifting back to you—how comfortable you looked.

He didn’t know what was worse: the way you didn’t seem to notice how much of a mess you were making of him, or the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

When you stretched out your arm, holding the magazine over to him, your fingers brushed his for just a second. It wasn’t anything special, just an ordinary moment. But for Otoya, it felt like everything else faded for a heartbeat.

“You okay?” you asked, tilting your head when he didn’t respond right away.

“Yeah,” he said quickly, his voice too casual. “Just tired.”

That night, after you’d left, Otoya lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The silence felt too loud, and every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. Heard your laugh. Felt the warmth of your smile.

“Damn it,” he muttered, rolling onto his side.

He wasn’t supposed to feel like this. He wasn’t supposed to want someone so badly it hurts. But no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he couldn’t ignore the truth anymore.

You weren’t just another thrill. You’d become something that had him turning and tossing in bed, wondering how the hell he’d let himself fall this hard.

── .✦ kenyu yukimiya

Kenyu had always been focused. Soccer demanded it, and so did modeling. Juggling both wasn’t easy, but he never complained. He’d chosen this path after all. What he hadn’t chosen or even planned for was you.

At first, he thought your support was just a pure act of kindness. You’d always been there, cheering him on, listening when he talked about the challenges of balancing his passions. But over time, it became clear that you weren’t just being polite. You genuinely cared—about his dreams, his struggles, even the small things he sometimes overlooked himself.

The realization didn’t hit him all at once. It came slowly, building with every little thing you did. Like today.

The two of you were at the mall, your idea after he mentioned needing new clothes for an upcoming shoot. Kenyu wasn’t bad at picking out outfits but you insisted he deserved a second opinion.

“Try this,” you said, holding up a sleek black jacket. “It’s simple but classy. Totally your vibe.”

He took it with a small smile, letting your enthusiasm guide him. You had an eye for these things, and he trusted your judgment more than he cared to admit.

As he stepped out of the fitting room, you were waiting, your expression lighting up when you saw him.

“See? I told you it’d look good,” you said, giving him an approving nod. “The fit’s perfect, and it goes with almost everything.”

He turned to the mirror, studying the way the jacket fit across his shoulders. It was nice, sure, but what stuck with him more was the way you looked at him. You weren’t just proud of the outfit but of him too.

"Didn't know you had such good taste." he said, half-teasing. “Maybe you should be my stylist.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’d love to, but I think your team would have a thing or two to say about that.”

The two of you wandered through the store for a while longer, you occasionally holding up shirts or accessories, and him silently appreciating the way you paid attention to the smallest details. You truly cared about how he felt in them, about making sure he was confident and comfortable.

At some point, as you stood next to him, you were holding up a scarf and debating its practicality, then it hit him.

This wasn’t just about being a fashion guru or supporting his career. It was about you—your thoughtfulness, your sincerity, and the way you noticed and valued even the smallest things about him.

His chest tightened for a moment that he forgot how to speak.

“Kenyu?” you asked, tilting your head at him. “Is everything alright?”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Just… thanks for helping me with this.”

“Of course,” you said, brushing it off like it was nothing. But to him, it wasn’t nothing.

After everything had settled, the two of you decided to leave the mall. His thoughts kept circling back to the moment. He couldn’t remember when it had begun, but he knew now that this was more than just appreciation for your support.

He is in love with you.

The realization was unexpected, but it left him feeling lighter, as if he’d discovered something he didn’t know he’d been searching for.

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! masterlist

[fic-dumpster]

immiscible

Pairing: Cat hybrid!Sanzu x Hamster hybrid!Reader

Summary: You were not meant to be. Everything pointed to a disastrous outcome, but Haruchiyo Sanzu refused to let something as dumb as biology dictate his life. He wanted you and that was final.

CW: Hybrid AU, dubcon, PiV, oral (female receiving), mean Sanzu, possessiveness, typical cat behavior. Idk… lmk if I missed anything. Not edited and no beta.

Word count: 2.2K+

A.N: funny how this was inspired by Hamtaro and the pink panther. A very… unexpected crossover.

“Haru, stop bothering her!” Mikey’s voice boomed through the room for the third time.

You were hiding, again, under Mikey’s covers, attempting to stay as far away as possible from Sanzu who hadn’t been as welcoming as you were promised. You were told a good time awaited, but your current situation was not your definition of a good time.

Emma, Mikey’s sister and your owner, had to leave for a trip with her boyfriend and they left you under her brother’s care. You were against the idea, adamant about it. You cried and begged to be left alone or any other person available would do. But alas, nobody seemed to be able to besides Mikey.

Knowing the pink cat hybrid living under Mikey’s care was an ass, you knew It was a terrible idea. You were a rodent for crying out loud. A hamster hybrid. It was like trying to mix water and oil… an impossible task, and they expected you to share a living space with them for who knows how long.

Yes, you have been in Mikey’s place for less than four days and your life has been in danger more times than you can count.

Sanzu, the feline menace of this house, seemed to find joy in your little squeaks and chubby cheeks puffing even more every time he pawed at you; sending you back and forth to his entertainment. He was just doing that a second ago until you managed to escape and made a run for Mikey’s bed.

“Haru, let her go.” Mikey warned him with a stern voice, “she doesn’t like your games.”

Little did he know those weren’t just games for Sanzu. While you thought he wanted nothing more than to make a snack out of you, he had a whole other plan in mind.

Your small and round face peeked from under the covers and you instantly regretted your decision. Right there, looking straight at you with a wicked grin, was Sanzu. His green emerald eyes shined with mischief as he saw the scared look on your face.

“Ple-please, Haru… I-I do-don’t wanna play…” you stammered. Your heart beating wildly as you scurried deeper into the bed and away from the border where a crazed hybrid stood.

Have you ever tried to make a cat let go of his prey? Hardest thing to accomplish. Mikey knew that, but he also believed in his pet. Overall, Sanzu was harmless, according to Mikey. So when the only human in the room heard his pet hybrid promise to be civil. Well, Mikey believed him.

“I won’t do that again, I promise.”

To his credit, Sanzu didn’t chase you around anymore. There was no reason to run after something that was under his paw.

The first week passed by in a flash and you learned a few things. One of them was how Sanzu loved to see your attempts of scrambling away from him, whining every time he pulled your short puffy tail or yanked your whiskers. You saw the gratification on his face.

He would not leave you alone. So much so that he even gathered your things from the guest room and moved them to his. Mikey allowed such idea; believing in Sanzu’s excuse about hybrid bonding time or something.

Before bed, the cat hybrid would yank you against his warm body, wrap himself around you and nibble on your round ears; every time before bed it was the same, almost like a night routine. You would tremble under his arms, scared of becoming dinner if you made a wrong move.

Things got heated in the third week. Almost a month in and you had your fair share of questions about Sanzu’s behavior. He began to pin you down more often; growling and rubbing himself all over you. Grooming your neck and cheeks, for then to stay in that position for a while. Inhaling your scent and humming and purring in contempt.

Mikey just thought you two were finally getting along well and ignored whenever Sanzu dragged you into his room.

“Yeah, Emma. She’s doing fine. Haru is good company.” Mikey would always speak with reassuring words to his sister. Not lying, just telling his truth. “No need to take her to Takashi’s.”

As the phone conversation went on, in a different room your silent whines told a different story. The spiked tongue of Sanzu’s kept licking your skin, leaving it tender afterward.

“Heard that? You’re not going anywhere,” Sanzu rasped against your twitching ears.

The cat hybrid was ecstatic when he first heard the news from Mikey. You, the fragile little rodent, were going to stay with him? His prayers had been answered.

Sanzu couldn’t help himself, you were just too pretty for your own good. All shy and sweet with everyone else but him. You were a trembling mess whenever he prowled around you, his tail swiftly moving around your hips and legs got you squirming in place. He loved the special treatment you gave him.

The pink menace had begun to behave even weirder lately. Headbutts here and there, making biscuits on your tummy and chest which left you all hot and bothered, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. All smiles and hugs as your mind went from zero to a hundred in seconds. It all left you confused and dizzy at the end of the day.

For things to make sense something had to happen, right? Because such… affectionate behavior wasn’t normal. Well, a few days later when Mikey left to hang out with some friends; it did happen.

You heard a strange sound coming from Sanzu’s room. It was a very loud meowing, almost raw and it seemed painful; and as afraid of him as you were, you couldn’t just leave your only housemate alone if he was in pain.

With shaky steps, ears tuned in to the yowling, you made your way to his room. Stopping at the door, you saw your things still scattered around, but now a bunch of pillows and blankets also shared the space. As your eyes roamed through the room you finally spotted Sanzu. He was a sweating mess—pink hair sticking to his face, wild eyes unblinking and his face contorted in pain.

“Ha-haru? Are you ok—” But before you could say one more word, a strong scent invaded your nostrils.

It hit you with so much force that your eyes watered instantly. The smell was sweet; earthy and cinnamon-like but oh, so suffocating. You gagged and coughed at the burning sensation in your throat.

Suddenly, everything began to spin, but before your knees could hit the ground, you were swept off your feet. The sickly sweet smell surrounding you in waves—enveloping you whole. “S-stop! I ca-can’t brea-breath!”

“I knew you would come,” cooed Sanzu, completely ignoring your pleas.

He had you in his arms, carrying you towards the improvised nest made of blankets. Your body shivered, rejecting the aroma of a different hybrid. It was clear—compatibility? Null. Even your body’s biology refused to accept the idea of it.

Before you could gather your thoughts, you were being dropped on a soft surface and still, the potent scent kept mingling all your senses. Just as fast, he was on top of you; holding your hands above your head and leaning forward with his whole weight pressing down on you.

“You look so pretty… underneath me,” Sanzu sharply whispered against your temple. Nose caressing the border of your face as it traveled to your lips.

Nudging your legs apart with his knees, he nestled himself between them. Slowly but steadily grinding his hips against your clothed core. “You did this, you know? You made me go into heat, you little minx.”

“No! I didn’t know– didn’t mean to!” You whimpered—lips to lips, sharing the same air.

A whirlwind of thoughts passed through your mind. Guilt, fear, anger and… surprisingly lust. The more he rubbed himself against you, the more your body reacted. Your legs fastening around his waist, pulling Sanzu even closer which made the feline purr louder as your little squeaks mixed in between.

You felt the weight of his body—of his clothed cock constantly pressing on your entrance, humping, just rutting in place. Wetness had begun to creep in between your clothes

“We can’t do this, Ha-Haru…”

“You want me to stop?” Sanzu asked with clenched teeth but you shaked your head in denial, “Good, because I don’t think I would be able to…”

The feline eagerly pawed your clothes off, feeling a surge of giddiness born in his stomach. He was so close to you, he was finally touching every single part of you. Sanzu could practically taste the air charged with your arousal.

“You need me here,” he purred, lithe fingers dancing around your gushing entrance. “I’ll have a quick taste and you’re gonna be good and let me.”

Not soon had you felt his hands let go, ignoring his previous words, you tried to scramble away. On your hands and knees, you made a big mistake. Sanzu felt your cotton-like tail hit him in the face and it just made him latch onto you even harder. His hands grabbed your thighs, pulling you back and at the same time wrangling you back into your last position just to directly smash his face against your cunt.

A hollow scream erupted from your raw throat once you felt his tongue practically forcing its way in. His fingers digging into your skin, the force of his sucking lips and never had his tongue stopped moving inside you. You were ashamed to admit he felt too good, your bucking hips constantly hitting him but Sanzu didn't even notice. Too focused, too drunk on your hypnotic flavor.

A straight lick later and a moan of satisfaction from the pink feline had you in almost tears. “You were already wet enough, but I couldn't help myself. You’ve made me… a voracious beast.”

You felt his fingers open your lower lips, heat radiating from your center smearing his digits. You don't know when or how he discarded his own clothes but as your eyes refocused, you saw his skin almost glowing, radiating scorching warmth on top of you. Unhurriedly, Sanzu guided his cock inside, stretching your opening to mold him, to take him. You were so soft, so warm that it almost hurt with how sensitive his tip was.

“I promise to—fuck… aah— mount you properly next time,” he growled at the thought of having you—ass up squeaking for him again, “but I need to see your cute face right now.”

Sanzu hissed at the contact and gave a final push of his hips; entering you with force. In return, your face contorted at the intrusion, you were a squealing mess under him. The sudden action wasn’t as pleasant as the previous activity. Your insides burned as your walls tried to push the foreign object out. But Sanzu persisted, holding you in place as he slowly retracted and moved back in. Inch by inch of his cock with no hurry.

He repeated this action until he felt almost no restraint on your part. Your cute little cunt had finally gotten used to him. He went in and out smoothly and your sounds had changed to mewls and puffs of air—full of need. Your hands traveled from his chest to his shoulders, no longer trying to stop him. On the contrary, you were pulling him in, scraping his neck with a sudden need to have him closer.

The feline purred loudly as he absorbed the change in your demeanor. Your half-lidded eyes were calling to him. His words failed him, he couldn’t even tell you how good you felt. All that left his lips were groans and beastly sounds.

“Fa-faster, Haru!” You moaned out without shame. Gone was the timid little rodent.

His chest reverberated once again, an instant answer to your plea. His tail moving wildly behind him, his ear twitching at the sound of your voice. All his body automatically responded to your calling.

His hips hitting you with abandon. Your pussy lips are swollen from the constant friction.

“M-mine.” He heaved with furrowed brows; fingers gripping tightly at your soft and plush skin.

Sanzu wasn’t even sure he was speaking out loud, too lost in the overwhelming feeling of finally being buried deep in your heat. Nothing could take him away from you.

─────── · · ·

“Get your furry fiend away from her!” Emma was a red from rage, “Manjiro Sano! I am serious!

“He doesn't wanna let go!” Mikey looked over at his friend, Emma’s boyfriend, for help, “Ken-Chin, tell her!”

Meanwhile, Sanzu with flattened ears and a swatting tail had you under his body; hissing menacingly at the three humans trying to take away his mate.

Of course, you had tried to explain but your meek voice wasn't heard in the middle of all the shouting.

[wifeyoozi]

ot13 seventeen : backstage quickie

seungcheol : it took one pout from you after you saw him all dressed up in that sexy purple suit and slicked back red hair for him to pull you aside in an empty restroom. Didn't even bother taking off his clothes, just pulled down the zipper and took his dick out and railed you pinned to the wall. Precisely 15 minutes later he was scolded by the stylist for messing up the hair and getting all sweaty over the make up.

Jeonghan : he'd been making out with you right there in front of everyone, shamelessly, holding you down on his lap and grinding against you. Someone (seungkwan) begged him to get a room and not cum all over his pants in front of everyone.

Joshua : he'd gotten so horny thinking of how he'd be able to fuck you all night after concert since it was the last day and had a very embarrassingly visible tent in his pocket. He'd call you backstage and scurried you off to an abandoned room to have you up on his cock.

Junhui : the concert was starting in exactly 10 minutes and he had his fingers knuckle deep in you in the restroom. He knew everyone had been searching for him to get on his position but he also refused to let go of you undone.

Hoshi : it was just a simple good luck kiss which turned into deep kissing which turned into heated make out which turned into him ramming his dick in you as fast as possible which turned into the manager and stylist scolding him for the mess he's made of himself.

Wonwoo : he wasn't even that horny when he pulled you into the janitor's closet and lifted your skirt up and started scissoring you to prep you for his dick. He just thought the orgasm-induced endorphin and dopamine release would make him more energetic for the stage. And it was probably one of the best performances he's ever given, thanks to you.

Woozi : it wasn't his fault when you came into the green room wearing that tight red leather mini skirt to wish him goodluck, that too paired with the hot red lipstick. He's brain is just associated you wearing anything red with sex enough for his dick to come back to life immediately and having you take care of him backstage.

minghao : he was usually very self-composed and has a good control over his dick. But he is, at the end of the day, a man. And seeing you wink and openly flirt with him in front of everyone sends heat directly to his crotch. And since you caused it, you gotta sort it. He'll find you an empty room, lock it and sit on any available chair, giving you the liberty to sate his arousal however you can.

Mingyu : fucking before shows is a ritual. If he can't fuck you before show, he'll be (secretly) sulky the whole time. He's very adamant about blowing your back and filling you full of cum and have you keep that cum in you till the show ends.

seokmin : the first time he did it, he was so nervous, wanting to get done as quickly and quietly as possible. After a few times, he's confident enough to fuck you at his pace without having you shut up. If anyone hears, it's their problem to be wandering around unused changing rooms.

Seungkwan : he loooves the part where he fucks you. Gives him the energy pump needed to be the greater entertainer on the stage he is. Loves eating you out, your juices are his lucky potion. What he hates tho is when everyone started teasing him after he's come out of the restroom with you, all messed up. If the stylist scolds him, he'll whined and somehow pass the blame on you. Tho nothing will stop him from doing it again.

Vernon : I think unironically the only smart one because he'll have you suck him instead of getting in your puss cuz that's the least messy way to do it. He initially only did it that way to avoid cleaning up mess after but realised this way no one scolds him after he goes missing for some time for messing up his hair and outfit and make up.

Chan : excited and agrees immediately when you ask him for a quickie and steal him to the restroom. Locks you two in a restroom stall and sits on the bathroom seat before you ride him. You have to cover his mouth when you hear someone enter, for it to turn out to be the leader calling him to get his make up done immediately. He calls out five minutes in a shaky voice and you have to hurry yourself on him to get you both orgasm immediately.

Bonus : cheol scolded chan for not using condoms in the heat of the moment when he knows of it. How he knows of it? That's cheol's business how he looks after his kids.