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seitmai · 2 days ago

Text

Many thoughts

The way his jaw tensed, the way his biceps flexed beneath his rolled-up sleeves, the way the veins in his forearms stood out when he gripped the pool cue. You knew better than to stare, but the dim lighting and the amber of your drink made for good camouflage.

It would be rude not to look at his beautiful forearms imo🤷🏻‍♀️

"Match made in heaven," Fanboy teased, nudging you with his elbow. You rolled your eyes but didn’t deny it. It was true, in a way. You and Hangman worked well together, your sharp instincts and calculated precision balancing out his reckless confidence. In the air, you made each other better. On the ground, though? That was different.

Well a Match made in heaven, sometimes is made just for the sky not the ground

Your lips twitched, but you hid your smile behind your drink, letting the glass linger against your lips. Bradley's eyes flicked toward you, quick but sharp, and for a second, you thought—no, you knew—he caught you watching. The corner of his mouth lifted, subtle, like he knew exactly what you were thinking.

👀

The moment passed, the conversation shifting, the music playing on. But as you turned back to your drink, your heart was still hammering against your ribs. Because if there was one thing you knew for sure, it was that Hangman never said anything without a reason.

Oh he sure doesn’t

Bob was still half-listening to Fanboy, nodding along as his fingers drummed against the side of his glass, but you could feel his attention flicking back to you every so often. He wasn’t obvious about it—not like Hangman, who would’ve just called you out in front of everyone—but Bob noticed things. Always had. It was part of what made him such a damn good WSO.

Of course be does

Bob didn’t press, just hummed in acknowledgment, but you caught the way his eyes lingered as you turned away. If anyone was gonna figure you out first, it would be him. You just had to make sure you didn’t give him anything more to work with.

100% it would be him (& Phoenix probably lol)

"What’s your poison tonight?" You should’ve just answered him. Should’ve just kept it casual, like you did with everyone else. But the way he was looking at you—the lazy tilt of his smile, the barely-there rasp in his voice—it made you want to push back just a little. "Why?" you asked, tilting your head. "Gonna buy me one?" Something flickered in his expression, brief but unmistakable, before he leaned in just slightly, enough that his voice was low when he murmured, "That depends." Your fingers tightened around the glass, pulse kicking up. "On?" Bradley let the silence stretch, like he was giving you time to think about it, about him, before finally smirking again. "On whether or not you’ll actually drink it… or just use it to hide behind."

Oh 👀

"You wish, Bradshaw." But even as you said it, you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince—him or yourself.

Fair 🤭

He grinned, eyes still on you as he took another slow sip—deliberate, careful, like he was daring you to look away. And maybe that was your first mistake.

Was it a mistake though? 🤔

Your back hit the wall. You hadn’t even realized you’d been inching away, hadn’t noticed how close he’d gotten until there was nowhere else to go. But even now, even with the way his voice curled around your name, warm and teasing and just a little too soft, he didn’t touch you. Didn’t have to.Because the way he was looking at you—the way he always looked at you—was more than enough.

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Rooster’s hands flexed at his sides, like he was physically holding himself back. Like if he didn’t, he’d reach for you without thinking. His jaw tightened, his breath uneven, and for the first time all night, he didn’t have a smirk, didn’t have a teasing remark locked and loaded.

It's taking all in him to not reach out 🫣

"Tell me no," he murmured, voice rough, low, almost desperate. "Tell me to back off, and I will." You should have. You knew you should have. But you didn’t.

Can't blame that decision 🤷🏻‍♀️

Your breath caught, your pulse hammering in your ears. Because he wasn’t just asking. He was begging. Begging for permission, for just a sign that he wasn’t crazy, that whatever this was—whatever had been burning between you for months—wasn’t just in his head. And God help you, you wanted to give it to him.

I love a begging man 😮‍💨

His lips parted at the sound of his name, something flickering in his expression—hope, relief, hunger, you weren’t sure. But his hands stayed at his sides, fists clenching, because he was waiting. He was waiting for you. "Tell me yes," he whispered. "Just once."

Easiest yes

The word barely left your lips before Bradley moved. Not rushed, not reckless, but like he’d been holding himself back for so damn long that the second you gave him permission, he couldn’t stop himself. His hands finally found you, one pressing firm and warm against your waist, the other cradling your jaw, fingers skimming your skin like he needed to memorize the way you felt beneath his touch.

🥰🥰🥰

You fisted the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, and he groaned—deep, low, the kind of sound that sent a shiver down your spine. His grip on your waist tightened, his body pressing flush against yours as he kissed you harder, deeper, like he needed to prove something. Like he needed you to feel how long he’d been waiting for this. "Tell me I’m not crazy," he whispered. "Tell me you want this too."

He is such a lover boy 😍

Bradley kissed you like he was starving, like he’d been waiting years for this moment and now that he had you, he wasn’t letting go. His hands gripped your waist, your jaw, like he needed to feel you everywhere at once, like he was trying to make up for all the times he’d held back.

Urgh this is so hot

But then—between kisses, between the ragged breaths you barely had time to take—he murmured against your mouth, "Why’d you join the Navy?" You smirked, tilting your chin just slightly, your hands still tangled in the fabric of his shirt. "I like dressing like the man." Rooster froze for half a second, his brows lifting slightly—then he let out a sharp, breathless laugh, his forehead dropping against yours. "God, I knew I liked you," he murmured, voice husky, and before you could say anything else, his lips were on yours again, deeper, hungrier, like your answer had just sealed something in him.

Extremely random but oh well 😂

And then he was kissing you again, harder this time, like he was proving a point, like he was making damn sure you’d never forget it because to you, he is the man.

Yeah about that, let's have discussion about that in the bedroom later on 🤭

The man's job

At The Hard Deck, Sniper—Hangman’s sharp-tongued WSO—tries to ignore her growing attraction to Rooster, but he sees right through her. After a heated exchange, Rooster pulls her into a quiet hallway, desperate for the truth, and when she finally gives in, he kisses her like he’s been waiting forever. Between breathless kisses, he asks why she joined the Navy, and when she teasingly admits it’s because she likes dressing like the men, he grins against her lips and murmurs, "I do too."

Warning: This story contains intense romantic tension, heated moments, and Rooster being utterly irresistible. Proceed with caution—you might fall for him all over again when he loses his cool.

4k words

Just saying English isn't my first language and this is crap because I got bored and wrote yap

The Hard Deck was alive with laughter, the low hum of conversation mingling with the distant crash of the waves. The scent of salt and spilled beer hung in the air, the jukebox spitting out a country song that had more than one pilot tapping their fingers against the worn wood of the bar.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin leaned against the pool table, a cocky grin playing at his lips as he chalked his cue. His gaze was locked onto Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife.

"You wanna try that again, Rooster?" Hangman drawled, voice as smooth as whiskey. "Because I could've sworn you said I got lucky on that last shot."

Rooster scoffed, arms crossed over his broad chest, aviators still hooked onto the collar of his Hawaiian shirt. "You heard me just fine, Bagman. One lucky shot doesn’t make you the best."

Your fingers tightened slightly around the glass in your hand as you took a slow sip of your drink, the cool condensation slick against your skin. From your seat, you watched the exchange unfold, feigning indifference behind the rim of your glass. But your eyes weren’t on Hangman—not really.

They were on Rooster.

Beside you, Bob and Fanboy were deep in conversation, their voices threading through the noise of the bar.

"I’m just saying," Bob mused, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "a good WSO doesn’t just read the pilot—they anticipate them."

Fanboy nodded, ever the calm voice of reason. "It’s about trust. You can be the best at reading radar, but if your pilot doesn’t trust you to have their six, you’re dead in the air."

You hummed in agreement, setting your glass down with a soft clink. "It’s instinct. That’s why some pairings work better than others. Right, Bob?"

Bob smirked knowingly, glancing over at Hangman, who was now leaning dangerously close to Rooster, both men locked in a silent battle of egos. "Yeah, like you and Seresin," he said. "You two just… click."

"Match made in heaven," Fanboy teased, nudging you with his elbow.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t deny it. It was true, in a way. You and Hangman worked well together, your sharp instincts and calculated precision balancing out his reckless confidence. In the air, you made each other better. On the ground, though?

That was different.

"Hey, Snipes!" Hangman’s voice cut through the conversation as he straightened, smirking at you. "Tell Rooster here that he should quit embarrassing himself and rack ‘em up for a rematch."

You raised an eyebrow, the weight of Rooster’s gaze settling on you before you even turned to meet it.

"Don’t look at me," you said smoothly. "I just work here."

Laughter rippled through the group as Rooster smirked, shaking his head before taking a long sip of his beer. The golden liquid caught the light, and for just a second, you let yourself look—really look—before turning back to your drink.

You leaned forward slightly, resting your elbows on the bar, swirling the remnants of your drink in the glass as Bob and Fanboy continued talking shop beside you. Their conversation faded into the background, your focus slipping as Rooster set his pool cue down and stretched, arms lifting high above his head before settling back down, fingers tapping absently against the side of his beer bottle. The stretch pulled his shirt tight across his chest, and you forced your gaze away, taking a slow sip of your drink to cover the way your pulse kicked up.

"You good?" Bob’s voice cut through your thoughts, quiet but pointed. His pale blue eyes studied you with the kind of sharpness that made you wonder just how much he noticed.

"Yeah," you said quickly, setting your glass down. "Just tired."

Bob hummed in a way that said he didn’t quite believe you, but he let it go, turning back to Fanboy, who was now deep in some exaggerated retelling of a training exercise. You took the out, shifting your attention back to the room, where Hangman had just stepped closer to Rooster, that ever-present smirk still in place.

"Come on, Rooster," Jake drawled, resting his pool cue against the table. "You gonna admit I got you, or do you wanna lose again?"

Bradley scoffed, shaking his head. "Man, I swear, you could fall into the ocean and still find a way to be cocky about it."

"Damn right," Jake shot back, tipping his beer up for a slow sip.

Heat licked up the back of your neck, but before you could react, Jake clapped a hand on Bradley’s shoulder with a grin. "Come on, Bradshaw, let’s go again. Unless you’re too busy staring at Sniper over here."

Your stomach dropped.

Bradley’s jaw tightened just slightly, his fingers flexing around the bottle in his hand. But if he was caught off guard, he didn’t show it for long. Instead, he just smirked, slow and easy, before turning back to the table.

"You wish, Seresin," he muttered, racking up the balls.

And now, thanks to him, you weren’t the only one noticing where your attention kept slipping.

You exhaled, forcing your shoulders to relax as you pushed your empty glass toward the edge of the bar. "I’m gonna grab another drink," you said, keeping your voice even, casual.

Bob’s gaze lifted from his own glass, studying you for half a second before he nodded. "You want company?"

You shook your head, already sliding off the barstool. "I’m good. Be right back."

You wove through the crowd, dodging a pair of aviators deep in some animated debate over dart scores, before finally making it to the bar. Penny was a few customers down, pouring a round of shots, so you leaned against the wood, letting your fingers trail along the smooth, worn surface as you waited.

It wasn’t until you felt a presence beside you that you glanced up—and immediately regretted it.

Bradley.

He was close. Not enough to be improper, but enough that you could catch the faint scent of his cologne beneath the salt air, enough that you could see the way the dim bar lights caught on the gold in his hair.

"You hiding over here, Snipes?" His voice was easy, teasing, but there was an edge to it, like he already knew the answer.

You rolled your eyes, willing your pulse to slow. "Just getting another drink, Bradshaw."

He smirked, leaning against the bar beside you, his fingers tapping absently against the wood. "That so?"

You didn’t answer immediately, but you didn’t have to. Because the way his eyes stayed on you—the way they held just a little too much knowing—told you he wasn’t buying it.

Penny slid a beer across the bar toward Rooster without him even needing to ask, a silent acknowledgment that he was a regular here. He caught it easily, fingers wrapping around the bottle as he turned back to you, his smirk still in place but softer now, more amused than cocky.

"You always this jumpy, Snipes?" His voice was low, meant just for you, the rough edge of it curling around your name in a way that sent heat flickering down your spine.

You scoffed, shifting your weight against the bar. "I’m not jumpy."

"Mm." He took a slow sip of his beer, eyes not leaving yours over the rim of the bottle. When he lowered it, he let his elbow rest against the counter, his body angled just slightly toward you. "You sure about that?"

Your brows lifted, feigning disinterest. "You always this nosy, Bradshaw?"

His grin widened, like he knew exactly what you were doing. "Only when it’s interesting." He let the words hang in the space between you, light but deliberate, before nodding toward your empty glass. "What’s your poison tonight?"

You should’ve just answered him. Should’ve just kept it casual, like you did with everyone else. But the way he was looking at you—the lazy tilt of his smile, the barely-there rasp in his voice—it made you want to push back just a little.

"Why?" you asked, tilting your head. "Gonna buy me one?"

Something flickered in his expression, brief but unmistakable, before he leaned in just slightly, enough that his voice was low when he murmured, "That depends."

Your fingers tightened around the glass, pulse kicking up. "On?"

Bradley let the silence stretch, like he was giving you time to think about it, about him, before finally smirking again. "On whether or not you’ll actually drink it… or just use it to hide behind."

Your breath hitched, but before you could come up with a response, Penny stepped up to take your order, cutting through the moment. Bradley didn’t move, didn’t look away—just waited, watching, like he already knew he’d gotten to you.

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to look away from Rooster’s knowing gaze as you turned to Penny. "Whiskey, neat."

If she noticed anything in your voice, she didn’t comment on it, just nodded and reached for a bottle. But Bradley? He let out a quiet chuckle, the sound warm and teasing as he took another sip of his beer.

"Didn’t peg you for a whiskey drinker," he mused, tilting his head.

You shot him a look. "And what exactly did you peg me for?"

He let his gaze flick over you, slow and measured, before shrugging. "Something smoother. Less burn."

You smirked, rolling your empty glass between your fingers. "Maybe I like the burn."

Bradley’s smile didn’t falter, but something in his expression shifted, the teasing edge softening just slightly. "Yeah," he murmured, voice quieter now. "Maybe you do."

Penny slid your drink across the bar, and you grabbed it quickly, grateful for something to do with your hands. But when you turned back, Bradley was still watching you, eyes dark with something unreadable, something you weren’t sure you were ready to decipher.

"Careful, Sniper," he murmured, tipping his bottle toward you before taking a sip. "Keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you like me."

Your stomach flipped, but you refused to let it show. Instead, you lifted your glass, letting the whiskey slide down smooth and slow before setting it back on the bar with a soft clink. Then, with your best smirk, you leaned in just a fraction, just enough for your voice to dip between you both.

"You wish, Bradshaw."

But even as you said it, you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince—him or yourself.

Rooster was still smirking when he took another sip of his beer, but when he lowered the bottle, you caught it—just the smallest trace of foam clinging to the edge of his moustache. It was barely noticeable, but once you saw it, you couldn’t unsee it.

Without thinking, you reached up, the tips of your fingers grazing his jaw as you swiped your thumb along the corner of his mouth. "You had a little—"

The words caught in your throat the second his breath hitched, his entire body going still under your touch. His skin was warm beneath your fingers, the slight stubble along his jaw rough against the pad of your thumb. You should’ve pulled away the second you fixed it, should’ve stepped back before the moment stretched too long, before the air between you shifted into something heavier.

But you didn’t.

Bradley didn’t move either, his eyes locked onto yours, something unreadable flickering behind them. Slowly, so slowly, his lips quirked, and you felt it—the way they just barely brushed against your thumb before you finally dropped your hand.

"Thanks, Sniper," he murmured, voice lower than before, rougher.

You swallowed, gripping your glass a little tighter as you forced yourself to scoff, to play it off. "Try drinking like an adult next time, Bradshaw."

He grinned, eyes still on you as he took another slow sip—deliberate, careful, like he was daring you to look away.

But you didn’t.

And maybe that was your first mistake.

You should have walked away. Should have taken your drink and gone back to Bob and Fanboy, slipped back into easy conversation about WSOs and manoeuvring and anything that didn’t involve the way Rooster was looking at you.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you stayed put, fingers curling around your whiskey glass, pulse thrumming beneath your skin as Bradley studied you with that lazy, knowing smirk. The worst part? He wasn’t even trying. He wasn’t laying it on thick like Jake would, wasn’t feeding you some line just to see if you’d take the bait. He was just… there. And for some reason, that made it harder to shake.

"You always this handsy, Snipes?" His voice was smooth, laced with amusement, but there was something else beneath it. Something quieter.

You scoffed, finally forcing yourself to take a step back, putting distance between you both. "Don’t flatter yourself, Bradshaw."

He hummed, tipping his beer toward you in mock salute. "Too late."

You rolled your eyes, turning toward the crowd, desperate to pull the focus away from whatever the hell this was. The Hard Deck was still alive with energy, the Dagger Squad scattered around the bar. Hangman was now leaning against the jukebox, arguing with Coyote about song choices. Payback and Fanboy were deep in conversation, likely rehashing old stories from training. Phoenix was at the dartboard, eyes locked in concentration as she lined up a shot.

Safe distractions.

"I should get back," you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

But before you could step away, Bradley's voice was there again, softer now. "You ever gonna let me catch up to you, Snipes?"

You hesitated, fingers tightening around your drink. The question wasn’t loaded, not on the surface. But something about the way he said it made you pause, made you consider the weight behind it.

Slowly, you turned back to him, arching a brow. "What makes you think you’re behind?"

Bradley smirked, but this time, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Call it a gut feeling."

You held his gaze for a beat longer than you should have, something unspoken lingering in the space between you. Then, with a small shake of your head, you turned on your heel, slipping back into the crowd before he could say anything else.

But even as you walked away, you felt it—the heat of his gaze still following you, like he wasn’t quite ready to let you go just yet.

You barely made it three steps before you felt it—fingers curling around your wrist, firm but careful, like he wasn’t trying to stop you, just… slow you down.

"Hang on," Rooster murmured, his grip warm against your skin.

Your heart stuttered, but you didn’t stop him, didn’t shake him off. He didn’t give you the chance to. With a gentle but insistent tug, he steered you through the crowd, slipping easily between groups of aviators and locals like he’d done it a hundred times before.

You knew where he was leading you before you even saw it.

The narrow hallway just past the bar—the one that led to the bathrooms, the back exit, the only quiet place in the Hard Deck that didn’t involve sneaking behind the counter with Penny’s disapproving glare burning into the back of your head.

The second you stepped into the dimly lit corridor, away from the noise, away from the others, Bradley let go of your wrist. But he didn’t step back. If anything, he was still too close, the faint scent of his cologne and the salt air clinging to his skin.

You crossed your arms, forcing yourself to level him with a look even as your pulse betrayed you. "Seriously, Bradshaw? The hallway?"

His lips quirked, but his eyes stayed serious, steady. "Seemed like the only way to get you to actually talk to me."

Your stomach flipped, but you forced a scoff, leaning back slightly against the wall. "Talk to you? About what?"

He didn’t answer right away. Just let his gaze flicker over your face like he was trying to figure something out, like he was debating how much to say. Then, finally, quietly—

"You’re different with me."

Your breath caught.

Bradley took a step closer, close enough that you had to tilt your chin up slightly to keep your eyes on his. "You talk all that shit with Hangman. You joke with Bob, mess with Fanboy, keep up with Phoenix. But with me?" His head tilted, voice dipping lower. "You’re careful."

You swallowed hard, willing your expression to stay neutral. "You’re imagining things, Bradshaw."

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "No, I’m not." Another step, closing that last bit of space. "And I don’t think you are either."

Didn’t have to.

Because the way he was looking at you—the way he always looked at you—was more than enough.

"Tell me no," he murmured, voice rough, low, almost desperate. "Tell me to back off, and I will."

You should have. You knew you should have.

But you didn’t.

"Rooster, it's the alcohol talking."

His eyes searched yours, flickering between them, his throat working as he swallowed hard. "Snipes…" He exhaled sharply, shaking his head like he was trying to pull himself together, but then his voice dropped even lower, nearly breaking—

"Please."

And God help you, you wanted to give it to him.

"Bradshaw…"

"Tell me yes," he whispered. "Just once."

Your breath shuddered.

And then—

You did.

The word barely left your lips before Bradley moved.

Not rushed, not reckless, but like he’d been holding himself back for so damn long that the second you gave him permission, he couldn’t stop himself. His hands finally found you, one pressing firm and warm against your waist, the other cradling your jaw, fingers skimming your skin like he needed to memorize the way you felt beneath his touch.

And then—God—his mouth was on yours.

It wasn’t tentative, wasn’t careful. It was needy, desperate in a way that sent heat rushing through you, like he’d been dying of thirst and you were the only thing that could quench it. His lips moved against yours like he was making up for lost time, like he couldn’t get enough, like he was afraid if he let you go, you’d slip right through his fingers.

It was overwhelming and dizzying, and God, you should have stopped him. Should have pushed him away before this became something you couldn’t take back.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you let yourself sink into it, let yourself drown in him, let yourself pretend—just for a second—that this was something you could have. That Bradley was something you could have.

And when he finally pulled back, breath ragged, forehead resting against yours, his voice came out rough, almost wrecked.

"Tell me I’m not crazy," he whispered. "Tell me you want this too."

You swallowed hard, hands still curled into his shirt, your heart pounding against your ribs.

And when you finally answered, your voice was barely above a breath—

"I do."

You were just as desperate, fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer until there was no space left between you, just heat and pressure and the intoxicating taste of whiskey and beer on his lips.

But then—between kisses, between the ragged breaths you barely had time to take—he murmured against your mouth, "Why’d you join the Navy?"

You barely processed the question at first, not with the way his lips trailed along your jaw, not with the way his hands were tracing slow, burning lines down your sides. But then he pulled back just slightly, just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded but curious. Like he needed to know.

Your breath hitched, your heart hammering against your ribs. Of all the moments, of all the things—he wanted to ask this now?

You smirked, tilting your chin just slightly, your hands still tangled in the fabric of his shirt. "I like dressing like the man."

Rooster froze for half a second, his brows lifting slightly—then he let out a sharp, breathless laugh, his forehead dropping against yours. "God, I knew I liked you," he murmured, voice husky, and before you could say anything else, his lips were on yours again, deeper, hungrier, like your answer had just sealed something in him.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips, "I do too."

And then he was kissing you again, harder this time, like he was proving a point, like he was making damn sure you’d never forget it because to you, he is the man.

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lunajay33 · 11 hours ago

Text

Over Looked

•🪽🌌🌑•

Summary: Being the youngest Archeron sister was hard and when you’re thrown into a new life as a high fae living in the night court people don’t see your struggle, and the one you crave only has eyes for your sister Elain

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Info: Elain and Nesta always hated reader, Rhys and Feyre adore her, angst with a happy ending

•Masterlist•

After years of living in poverty, sleeping on the cold hard floor while my three older sisters shared a bed, my two oldest sisters hating me, after almost dying trying to sneak into prythian finding myself lost in the woods for months until a tall man with dark hair found me curled up in the autumn court woods almost starving from being lost for so long and running for my life every second, he was like a dark angel as he kneeled infront of me

Flashback

“Your sister has been desperately trying to find you” he smiles as he pick me up and glimmering smoke surrounds us

“Feyre” I whisper when I open my eyes again I’m in a fancy house and there sits my lovely sister but she was undeniable more beautiful, he lays me on the couch as Feyre kneels next to me

“I tried……I tried to save you Fey” I sigh weakly noticing the tears in her eyes

“I’m so sorry, none of this would’ve happened I should have protected you” she cry’s

She filled me in on everything that happened, how the man that found me was her mate and this was the night court, how she was now a high fae

She helped me bath and fed me, introducing me to Mor, Cassian he was like a huge teddy bear, and Azriel he was the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen but he seemed to be standoffish, quiet and mysterious but his shadows would seem me out sometimes late at night when I couldn’t sleep, terrified of the memories of the monsters that had chased me

Then everything changed, me, Elain and Nesta got taken, thrown into the cauldron and turned into high fae, Elain got powers and so did Nesta, I was yet to discover if I had any ability, even now as we were all in the inner circle Elain and Nesta took any chance they could to jab at me

Present

I’m still having a hard time adjusting to this new life, finding it hard to let my old life go wishing I could have what Feyre had, she looks so happy as she looks into the eyes of her mate as they are sat at the head of the table while we all eat our dinner

I look back down the table noticing the way Azriel would glance at Elain, I’ve caught it a few times and it broke my heart each time, the moment I crawled out of the cauldron and looked at him I felt it in my chest that he was the one for me but he had eyes for one of the sisters that made my life hell

“Y/n dear aren’t you hungry?” Mor asks smiling as she’s sat next to me, I put on a fake smile and shrug my shoulders

“Oh I’ve just lost my appetite is all”

“Probably for the best anyways she could afford to loose some weight” Nesta laughed as Elain joined in like cackling hyenas, I can feel my lip wobble as I try to keep the tears at bay looking down at Feyre for help, she always stuck up for me

“Nesta Elain that’s enough” she said sternly, Rhys next to her shooting them daggers with his eyes

“I think I’m just going to go to bed” I excuse myself going down the hall to my room hearing Feyre scold them but they just kept laughing

Looking in the mirror I hold up my shirt sighing, were they right? Maybe Azriel would notice me then, I feel a shadow swirl along my leg up to my cheek giving me a comforting feeling like it’s my own emotional support shadow

I lay in bed as it dances around my fingers, why is it always her, everyone wants them but no one ever wants me, a knock raps on the door and in steps Cassian in all his cuddly glory, since Rhys rescued me he’s helped nurse me back to health and became like a big brother to me

He throws himself on the bed next to me with a pout as he watches me play with the shadow

“You know I’ve never seen them do that with anyone else” he says

“Can I ask you something?” I ask looking at him now

“Of course”

“Am I……ugly?” His eyes grow wide

“What? Of course not your beautiful, don’t listen to them they’re just playing around”

“No they aren’t, they’ve treated me like that from the day I was born, called me ugly, chubby, no one will ever want me, they pick on everything I do and now……the guy I’m destined to be with doesn’t even second glance at me to preoccupied with someone else, of course he would not even my own mate wants me” I rant finally getting it off my chest

“WAIT WHAT? You’ve found your mate and you haven’t told any of us? This is a huge deal who is it?” He asks like a girl wanting all the gossip

“Come on Cas, why would I wanna tell you it’s embarrassing, they always want her” I sigh shrugging my shoulders

“Want who?” He asks rubbing my back

“Elain, but why don’t guys look at me I’m nice and I’d give my heart to him but all he sees is Elain and how pretty she is”

“Elain? Who’s looking at he….” He stops as a see the realization on his face

“Azriel? He’s your mate” I nod looking away

“Like they said I’m too ugly for someone like him” I try to distract myself with the shadow still around my fingers

“Hey you’re beautiful, why don’t you tell him or talk to Feyre and Rhys”

“Maybe”

I made my way down the hall to Rhys’s office where he and Feyre were chatting

“Hey can I talk to you guys?” I ask nervously

“Of course sit” Feyre says motioning to the chair infront of her and Rhys

“I’m sorry about before I’ve told them to stop talking to you like that” Feyre smiles gently

“Thank but I wanted to tell you something else, it’s really been weighing on me” they give me their full attention

“What is it sweetheart?” Rhys asks

“I’ve found my mate”

“What since when?”

“Since I came out of the cauldron” I say as another shadow comes and plays through my hair and they smile

“Azriel?” Rhys asks

“Not that it matters he only has eyes for Elain”

“Oh dear he might come around just give him time” Feyre says

“Why don’t you tell him”

“I can’t I can’t handle that rejection” they give eachother that look that tells me they’re talking to eachother through the bond

“I’m gonna go, it’s getting late” I say leaving quickly before they could stop me

I head to my room and pack a bag, I can’t stay in this place anymore what’s the point Elain and Nesta taunt me all the time, Azriel won’t even look at me

Waiting until the house is quiet I take my bag and head out to the front door about to leave by I feel a tug on my ankle and wrist, I turn seeing shadows trying to pull me back in

“I’m sorry little guys I’ve got to go” they loosen just enough for me to get out of their grasps and leave walking out into the late night, the streets are empty and chilly

“And what’re you doing?” I hear behind me making me stop sending a shiver down my body

I turn seeing Azriel of course the shadows would tel him

“Leave me alone, you’ve done a good job of that so far why stop me now” I keep walking not even knowing where I’m going

“You have no where to go” he says now walking next to me

“Like you care” I sigh

“Why wouldn’t i” I stop and turn to him

“Just give it up Az, you can’t stand me, you don’t talk to me or even look my way, all you can do is ogle Elain and what’s so good about her hmm?”

“She’s having a hard time”

“She’s having a hard time? Can’t you feel it, can’t you see how I’ve been drowning every second and you don’t even feel me” his eyebrows furrow in confusion

“You never told me your problems”

“I shouldn’t have to you should feel them Az, hell the shadows can, they visit me every night”

“They do?”

“Yes but you didn’t even realize right? I’m not waiting around just to watch you fall in love with my own sister” I brush past him but he catches my wrist

“What’re you saying”

“YOURE MY MATE AZRIEL” the night becomes even more silent as he just looks at me

“Why didn’t you tell me” his voice gentle now

“Seriously? You know why”

“I’m…..I’m sorry just give me a chance” I pull my arm back

“I need time az, you’ve hurt me too much”

•

Lmk if I should do a part two?

#azriel one shot #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x archeron sister #acotar oneshot #eris acotar #feyre acotar #rhys acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar #cassian x y/n #cassian x fem!reader

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aryadelvich · 1 day ago

Note

can you write a best friends to lovers headcanons or foc for luigi plsss 🥲💕

Hii !! Thank you for your request. I wrote the best friend one. But sorry what is a foc ? But here it is.

If you’re looking for more of my work here’s an Updated Masterlist

Are we still friend ? - Luigi Mangione x Reader

You were lying on the grass, sunglasses perched on your nose, soaking up the sun. Your friends were all sitting nearby, chatting while you daydreamed. Luigi was to your right, engrossed in a book.

You sat up, rolling onto your stomach to watch him.

"You can read?" you teased.

"Shut up, Yn. You make that joke every time it’s getting old," he replied automatically.

"Can’t even joke with you," you pouted.

"I'm busy. Go bother someone else," he said, still buried in his book.

You sighed. It wasn’t fun when he ignored you. Luigi was your best friend—you had shared everything since you were eight years old. You were inseparable, and until now, that had never been a problem for anyone. But ever since you got a boyfriend, and Luigi got a girlfriend, things had changed. Your partners weren’t exactly thrilled about your natural closeness.

That’s why you were messing with him now—his girlfriend wasn’t around, so you were taking advantage of it.

"What are you reading, Lulu?"

He sighed and placed his book down on the page where he had left off.

"I'm not reading anymore because you're annoying me."

"Come on, talk to me. I’m bored," you said, nudging his shoulder lightly.

"No, go find someone else to play with."

He went back to his book. You pouted, frustrated by his indifference. It wasn’t like before. Before, he would have sighed, put his book down, grumbled a little, but eventually, he would have talked to you and joked around.

Now, it was different. Ever since he got a girlfriend, he had been… more distant.

You grabbed the book from his hands and lifted it out of his reach.

"Yn, give that back."

"Not until you talk to me."

He rolled his eyes but reached out to retrieve his book. You leaned back, laughing, holding it above your head.

"What is it?" you asked curiously.

"Give it back."

He sat up, trying to snatch it from you, but you rolled to the side, dodging his arm.

"You’re unbearable, seriously."

"You don’t want to talk to me?"

"I just want to read my book."

He leaned in closer, your chests almost touching, your noses nearly brushing. You flashed him a defiant smile.

"Are you really attacking a defenseless girl?"

"You’re not a girl, you’re a pain in the ass," he muttered, but you noticed the smile he was trying to suppress.

Then Luigi turned his head and spotted your boyfriend standing above you, watching the scene.

"Oh look, your boyfriend’s here. Go bother him instead," he said, pulling away and using your distraction to snatch the book from your hands. You sit up, inviting your boyfriend to sit next to you.

Luigi leans in and whispers in your ear, "Now you're ignoring me? Am I just your backup plan?"

"Shut up," you say, giving him a light, harmless elbow nudge.

Luigi chuckles softly and shakes his head before diving back into his book, but you can tell he's still listening in on your conversation with your boyfriend.

"Everything okay?" your boyfriend asks as he sits down beside you.

"Yeah, we were just talking with Luigi."

"Ah… still glued to each other like always, huh."

You raise an eyebrow. "You're exaggerating."

He doesn’t reply, but you catch the annoyance in his eyes.

Luigi casually turns a page in his book before smirking, "Well, to be fair, Yn loves sticking to me. She wouldn’t survive without me."

You shoot him a glare. "Oh, now you decide to talk?"

Your boyfriend crosses his arms. "Are you two always like this?"

"Always," Luigi answers before you can say anything.

You elbow him a little harder this time, but he just laughs.

"Relax, I’m joking."

Your boyfriend doesn’t seem convinced, and the atmosphere grows slightly tense. Luigi, on the other hand, resumes his reading as if nothing happened, but you know him too well. He’s doing this on purpose.

And strangely, it unsettles you.

You should be annoyed, not… troubled.

Just as the tension starts to build between you and your boyfriend, a feminine voice interrupts.

"Luigi! I’ve been looking for you everywhere."

You look up and see his girlfriend approaching, a soft smile on her lips, though her gaze lingers on you a little too long before shifting to Luigi.

"Oh, you were busy…" she says, her tone making it clear she’s not too happy about the scene in front of her.

Luigi, however, looks completely unbothered. He closes his book and sits up slightly.

"I was trying to read, but Yn was bothering me."

You roll your eyes.

His girlfriend lets out a forced laugh and sits beside him, pressing herself a little too close, as if marking her territory.

"Already missing me?" Luigi places a hand on her thigh and smiles at her, but you can’t help but notice his attention is still somewhat divided between her and you.

"A little," she replies, resting her head on his shoulder before shooting a quick glance in your direction. "You two are really… close, huh?"

You can tell the question is directed at you, so you shrug.

"We’ve known each other since we were kids. It’s normal."

Luigi smirks. "Yn wouldn’t survive without me."

You open your mouth to protest, but his girlfriend reacts before you do. And you can’t help but mentally call him an idiot.

"That’s funny… because I feel like it’s actually you who couldn’t survive without her."

Luigi raises an eyebrow, surprised by the comment, but doesn’t respond immediately. You cross your arms, waiting to see if he’ll say anything, but he simply stares at his girlfriend with a small, unreadable smile.

"Are you jealous?" he finally asks, amused.

She furrows her brows slightly and lets out a nervous laugh. "No, not at all. But you have to admit, from the outside, it could be misleading…"

You want to step in, but you prefer not to get involved. She doesn't respond, but her gaze says it all. She doesn’t like how close you are to Luigi, and you can almost hear what she’s thinking: can a girl and a guy really just be friends?

Your boyfriend, who had remained silent until now, finally speaks up.

"Anyway, I’d prefer if we avoided situations like this. It’s not exactly pleasant."

You sigh. "There is no ‘situation.’ You’re making a big deal out of nothing."

But as you say that, you feel Luigi’s gaze on you. Intense. Almost different.

You turn to him. "What?"

He holds your gaze for a few seconds before giving a small smile and shrugging.

"Nothing."

Nothing.

"But believe me, this is purely platonic. We could kiss, and nothing would happen. No butterflies. Nothing. It’s just you," Luigi explains.

You nod, completely agreeing with him.

"Can I talk to you in private, Yn?" your boyfriend asks.

You nod and follow him.

"I’ve been holding back since the beginning, but now that we’ve been together for a few months, I have to admit… your closeness with Luigi bothers me," he confesses, looking both worried and sad.

"But you have nothing to worry about."

"I don’t doubt your loyalty, but I’d feel better if you put some distance between you two," he adds.

You don’t know what to do. You definitely don’t want to sacrifice such a good friendship that has always worked well for a relationship that could potentially end badly. But your boyfriend was perfect—always there for you, kind, caring. He was a good boyfriend.

"Okay, I’ll keep my distance. You don’t have to worry," you reply reluctantly.

Your boyfriend smiles and kisses your forehead.

The following days, you do what you promised. You put distance between yourself and Luigi.

You stop texting him all day long, you no longer bother him, you don’t look for him in a crowded room. You even avoid sitting next to him when you're with your friends.

And Luigi notices it immediately.

At first, he thinks you're just busy, that it’ll pass. But when he realizes you're ignoring him on purpose, he starts to feel an emptiness.

He gets bored. He gets irritated over nothing. He stares at his phone, waiting for a message from you that never comes. And when he sees you—even briefly—everything goes back to normal in a fraction of a second. Your conversations, your ridiculous arguments, all of it. It’s as if nothing had changed. As if you were meant to be in each other's lives.

But your boyfriend eventually sees it too.

One evening, while you’re simply talking—just a normal conversation—he suddenly snaps.

"I can’t take this anymore, Yn."

You freeze. "What?"

"You say you’re just friends, but I see it. When you look at him, when you talk to him, it’s different. I refuse to be the second choice."

You open your mouth to protest, but he shakes his head.

"It’s over. I’d rather end this now than wait for the moment you realize it’s him."

He walks away, leaving you alone with a lump in your throat.

The next day, you try to act normal, but Luigi doesn’t make it easy.

"So, dumped, huh?" he teases, dropping into the chair next to you with an infuriating grin. "Didn’t see that one coming."

You roll your eyes. "Shut up, Luigi."

"Oh, come on. I mean, he had a point." He leans in slightly, smirking. "You’re kind of obsessed with me."

You grab a piece of crumpled paper from the table and throw it at his face. He just laughs.

"I’m serious, though. Should I be worried? You gonna start crying every time you see me?"

You glare at him. "Keep talking, and we’ll see who’s crying first."

He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. "Relax, I’m just saying-"

"Luigi, shut up," you snap, and this time, he does. But the smug expression stays.

One week later, it’s his turn.

You're at a party when it happens. Luigi and his girlfriend are arguing—nothing unusual, except this time, she’s not just annoyed. She’s done.

"Luigi, do you realize just how… unbearable you two are together?" she says, exasperated.

Luigi frowns. "Unbearable? What do you mean?"

She laughs, nervously"You bicker like a couple that’s been married for ten years. You’re always looking for her, she always has a comeback, and you completely forget the rest of the world. Seriously, what’s your problem?"

He opens his mouth, but she raises a hand to stop him.

"You know what? Forget it. I get it now. You were never really with me, not the way you are with her."

She shakes her head and walks away, disappearing into the crowd.

Luigi stays silent for a moment before sighing.

You tilt your head. "Should I be worried? You gonna start crying every time you see me?"

He groans, rubbing a hand over his face. "I hate you."

You grin. "Relax, I’m just saying-"

"Yn, shut up."

This time, you do. But the smug expression stays.

A few weeks later, at a party with your friends, a dare game begins. The atmosphere is light, laughter fills the room, and everyone seems to take great pleasure in coming up with absurd challenges.

Until one of your friends, smirking, announces a dare for you and Luigi.

"Well, since you two already act like an old married couple, we’re giving you a real challenge. You have to kiss. Passionately. For ten seconds."

Silence falls over the group.

You turn to Luigi, who is already looking at you. There’s a mix of challenge and amusement in his eyes.

"Seriously?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Well yeah, you’re just friends, right? It shouldn’t be a big deal!" someone jokes.

You cross your arms, shooting a glare at your friends. They knew exactly what they were doing.

Luigi, on the other hand, smiles. He turns to you and shrugs.

"Shall we prove there’s nothing there, then?"

His tone is playful, but you detect a slight hesitation in his voice.

You sigh, pretend to think it over, then shrug back.

"Alright. Ten seconds is nothing."

Everyone starts counting out loud.

Ten.

Luigi leans in slightly.

Nine.

You place your hands on his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

Eight.

He slides a hand to the back of your neck, his eyes locked onto yours.

Seven.

You swallow discreetly. Why is your heart racing?

Six.

He moves closer, his warm breath brushing against your lips.

Five.

A shiver runs down your spine.

Four.

Your lips barely graze each other’s.

Three.

Then he kisses you.

Two.

The world around you fades away.

One.

You should stop.

Zero.

But neither of you moves.

"Ten! Well?" one of your friends asks, as curious as everyone else. They had been watching this like it was a TV show.

You pull away, grateful for the dim lighting in the room that hides the heat rising to your cheeks.

"Didn't feel a thing," you lie.

"Same," Luigi adds, throwing you a quick glance, as if trying to analyze whether you had the same reaction.

The party resumes, but you can’t focus. The kiss lingers in your mind. You had never felt anything like that before.

When everyone’s attention shifts away from you, you seize the moment. You tap Luigi on the shoulder and motion for him to follow you. He does, without question.

Upstairs, you step into a bedroom, closing the door behind you. Your heart is still pounding a little too fast. Luigi is already there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He watches you, the faintest smile on his lips.

"So…" he starts.

You lean against the desk behind you, searching for the right words.

"That was weird, right?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Weird?"

You roll your eyes. "Yes, weird." You take a deep breath. "And I can’t tell if it was just the rush of the moment or… something else."

Luigi doesn’t answer right away. He studies you, as if looking for an answer on your face. Then, after a moment, he lets out a small laugh.

"We could do it again."

You snap your head up, surprised.

He pushes off the wall, stepping closer. "Just to see if it was because of our friends, or if it’s… something else."

You narrow your eyes, trying to figure out if he’s joking, but his expression is serious.

"Just a scientific experiment, huh?"

"Exactly."

A pause. You hesitate for a second, then shrug.

"Alright. Just to be sure."

Luigi moves in slowly. He’s right in front of you now, but he doesn’t make the first move right away. His eyes search yours, giving you a chance to pull away.

But you don’t.

So you both lean in at the same time. And you kiss.

This time, it’s slower. There are no cheers, no friends counting down. Just him. Just you.

And it’s worse.

Because this time, there’s no excuse.

You're pressed against each other, and now that the uncertainty is gone, it’s the best kiss you’ve ever had. You kiss again and again, never pulling apart. But eventually, you have to breathe, so you part—reluctantly.

You study his expression. He looks more shaken than ever, just as dazed as you feel.

"Well?" His voice is rough, his breathing uneven.

You inhale deeply, trying to gather your thoughts.

"It was…" You struggle to find the words.

"Different," he finishes for you. You nod slowly.

Silence falls between you, heavy with something unspoken.

"So, what’s the scientific explanation?" you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Luigi runs a hand through his hair, looking thoughtful.

"I have no idea."

You laugh, a little nervously.

"This is stupid. We’re just friends."

"Yeah. Just friends." He repeats the words, but they sound painfully unconvincing.

You feel his gaze on you, waiting for you to say something, to confirm or deny whatever just happened.

But you don’t know what to say. Because for the first time, you’re not sure how you feel anymore.

Another silence. Too heavy to ignore. Luigi leans back against the wall, arms crossed, his eyes locked on yours as if he’s still weighing his options.

Then he sighs and shakes his head.

"Shit…" he mutters.

You frown. "What?"

He looks straight at you, not avoiding your gaze this time.

"I can’t stop thinking about it."

"About what?"

"You. Us. What we just did. What I’ve wanted to do for a long time."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Luigi…"

"Listen, I know this isn’t supposed to happen. You and me, we were fine like this. We were supposed to stay best friends and make fun of all the sappy couples. But now… I can’t pretend anymore. I feel something for you, Yn. And it’s driving me insane."

You open your mouth, but no words come out. He continues, his voice quieter, more hesitant.

"I thought it was just habit. That it was because we spend so much time together. But when you started keeping your distance, it wasn’t just weird. It was unbearable. Way worse than when I got dumped. And when I kissed you just now…" He pauses, searching for the right words. "I forget everything. And I want to do it over and over."

Your breath catches, your head spinning. This is too fast, too intense.

"We can’t, Luigi…" you whisper, but even you don’t sound convinced.

He smirks slightly. "Yn, you can reject me; It’ll change nothing to our friendship"

You lower your eyes, but he steps forward, placing his hands gently on your waist. The touch sends a shiver down your spine. He’s touched you before, countless times—but never like this. Never with this much intention.

"We don’t have to tell anyone. We can take our time. But stop telling me this means nothing, because I know you felt it too."

You hesitate, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I don’t want to ruin our friendship," you admit.

"It’ll only get better. And if we’re just friends despite all this, we’ll find our way back."

You make a decision. An irrational one, maybe. But the only one that feels right.

You grab him by the collar and kiss him again.

This time, you’re the one pulling him closer.

Luigi pulls back slightly, a smug grin creeping onto his lips.

"So it’s official, huh?" he says, crossing his arms. "I’m finally going to see that wild side you always talked about with your flings."

Your cheeks heat up.

"You’re an idiot, Luigi."

He raises an eyebrow, amused. "What? You told me everything in excruciating detail. You even had the nerve to give me tips sometimes!"

You smack his arm. "Oh, and you think I forgot all the times you told me about your hookups? I know exactly how you work, Luigi. You can’t fool me."

He steps closer, eyes glinting with that familiar, playful challenge.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." You hold his gaze, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "You’re not getting away with anything, Luigi. I know all your tricks."

He bursts out laughing, shaking his head.

"Shit, I’m screwed."

You smirk, triumphant. "Completely."

#luigi mangione #luigi my beloved #free luigi #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione x yn #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione request #luigi #luigi mangione college #luigi mangione thoughts #luigi mangione blurb #luigi mangione fluff #friend to lovers #fluff #blurb #fanfic

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emmiesoverthemoon · 15 hours ago

Text

stupid bet

Pairing: g-dragon/ kwon jiyong x reader

Word Count: 2,326

Summary: A playful drunken challenge turns into a game of seduction, but as Jiyong steadily dismantles your defenses, you realizes they lost long before you even knew you were playing.

Tags: teasing, tension, flirting, all that jam, stubborn reader

cross posted on ao3 here

Your office is quiet.

The kind of quiet that only comes when the day has stretched too long, when even the air feels heavy with exhaustion. Most of the staff have long since packed up and left, the faint click of doors and elevator chimes fading into the background hours ago.

But you’re still here.

Your desk is a mess of contracts, schedule printouts, and a half-empty coffee cup that’s long since gone cold. The white-blue glow of your laptop screen flickers across your face as you skim through another email, fingers moving swiftly over the keys.

“You work too much.”

You don’t even look up.

“And you don’t work enough,” you shoot back, scanning the last few lines of text before hitting send.

A soft thunk—the sound of something being placed on your desk. You glance over to find a takeaway cup, still steaming. The scent of something warm and sweet curls into the air—not coffee; hot chocolate.

Your eyes flick up.

Jiyong leans against the edge of your desk, hands in his pockets, watching you with that infuriating, ever-present smirk. His dark eyes glint with amusement, but beneath it, something quieter.

He gasps, feigning offence. “I work very hard at pretending I don’t work at all.”

You sigh, rubbing at your temples. “You have a radio interview tomorrow morning, a magazine shoot in the afternoon, and a late-night talk show to close out the day. So forgive me if I don’t have time to listen to you whine about my work ethic.”

“And yet,” he drawls, “you’re the one still in this office at—” he flips his wrist over to check his watch, “—almost ten o’clock at night.”

You don’t answer. Because, well. He’s right.

But that doesn’t mean you have time to dwell on it.

You reach for another document, flipping through the pages. “If you came in here just to be annoying, congratulations. Mission accomplished. Now go home.”

“Actually,” he says, “I came in here to drag you out of this office before you wither away under overly fluorescent lighting.”

You glance at him again, wary. “No, thanks.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“Jiyong.”

“Sweetheart.” The teasing lilt in his voice makes your fingers tighten around your pen.

You exhale slowly. “I have a hundred things to do before the end of the week. If you want to go out, I can have someone else arrange it for you.”

“Nope.”

“No?”

“No,” he repeats, gaze still being held strong to your eyes, “because I’m not asking anyone else. I’m asking you.”

The shift is subtle.

His voice, still teasing but softer now. The way he leans in just slightly, like he’s pulling you into some invisible gravity.

“Come out with me,” he insists, quieter this time. “Just for an hour. Two, if I can convince you to stay.”

“You can’t.”

“I bet I can.”

Your jaw tightens. “I have deadlines, Jiyong. I have three back-to-back meetings tomorrow and—”

“And you’re still going to have all of that whether you take a break or not.” His gaze flickers over you, assessing your overworked state. “But you’re running on fumes. If you don’t stop now, you’re going to crash, and then where will I be?”

“This isn’t about you.”

“Everything is about me,” he says smoothly.

You huff, shaking your head. “God, you’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you put up with me.”

You should say no. You should send him on his way, return to your work, and ignore the way he’s looking at you like he already knows he’s won.

But—It’s late.Your head is starting to ache. And, fine, maybe you’re running on fumes. And, fine, maybe you like that there’s something dangerous in the way he’s waiting for your answer, like this is more than just an invitation. Like this is a challenge.

You exhale sharply, snapping your laptop shut and rising from your chair. “One drink.”

His smirk widens.

“We’ll see.”

It started as a joke.

The kind of reckless challenge tossed carelessly across the table, carried by the haze of warm lights and the slow, liquid burn of another late night. The kind of thing you say when the air is thick with laughter and bravado, when the lines between daring and dangerous blur into something you don’t bother to examine too closely.

The bar hums around you, a low murmur of voices and clinking glasses. Outside, the night is deep and endless, pressing against the windows, but here, it’s all golden glow and too much familiarity. The heat of lingering conversations. The comfortable, slow-burning drowsiness that comes from just enough wine to be bold, but not enough to be reckless.

Well.

Maybe just enough to be reckless.

Because you say it without thinking—without considering that the weight of your words might shift something in the air, might tilt the balance in a way you won’t be able to take back.

“I think—I bet you couldn’t make me fall for you even if you tried.”

Your voice is flippant, dismissive, the way it always is when you’re baiting him. You tip your glass back, letting the liquid swirl against the side as you lift it to your lips, not really watching him—except, of course, you are.

Across from you, Jiyong stills. The change in his body language is slight. Barely perceptible. But you notice.

The way his fingers tighten around his glass, the faintest shift in his expression—there, then gone. His dark eyes flick to yours, and for a split second, something sharp flickers behind them.

Not amusement. Something else.

Your stomach performs an unfamiliar lurch. You expect him to scoff, to roll his eyes, to brush it off the way you do—like it’s nothing, like it’s all just another round in the unspoken game the two of you continue to play.

But instead—

Jiyong leans back against the booth, one arm draping over the backrest. Slowly.

His movements are deliberate, measured, but the ease is deceptive—because it’s not relaxed, not really. It’s something else entirely.

His head tilts slightly as he considers you, the hint of a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. But it isn’t his usual cocky grin. It’s different.

It’s like he’s just seen something in you that you weren’t aware of exposing.

“Oh yeah?” His voice is low, rich, carrying just the faintest rasp, and God help you—it shivers down your spine before you can stop it.

You smirk. You don’t let yourself waver. “Yeah. You couldn’t even if you were to dream of it.”

The second the words settle between you, something shifts. The warmth of the room suddenly feels stifling, it isn’t coming from only the wine anymore—this is palpable. The space between you—across the small wooden table, across the dim bar lights—narrows without either of you moving.

Because Jiyong isn’t laughing. Not in the way you expected. His smirk deepens—not playful, not teasing, but slow and deliberate.

Knowing. Like he’s already decided something. Like you just handed him the exact opening he’s been waiting for.

Your pulse trips. The smart thing—the safe thing—would be to laugh, to roll your eyes, to shrug it off and move on.

But you don’t.

Because you are watching him now.

The way the candlelight flickers over the sharp lines of his jaw. The way his fingers drum lightly against his glass, controlled and unhurried. The way his eyes flicker—first to your lips, then back to your eyes, like he’s weighing his options.

And then, slowly, carefully, he leans forward.

Not much, just enough to make the air between you thin.

Just enough that you feel it, the heat of him, the pull of something you shouldn’t name.

“Alright then.” The words are dangerous in their quiet simplicity. His voice drops—low and smooth, brushing against your skin like velvet and steel.

“Let’s play.”

And just like that—the game began.

At first, it was harmless.

Or at least, it pretended to be.

Jiyong flirted with you as easy as breathing, it was second nature to him. He smirked at you in a crowded room, murmuring half-teasing, half-infuriating comments just to get a reaction out of you. He leans in too close when he doesn’t need to, his breath brushing the shell of your ear, voice smooth as silk.

“Careful, baby. You look like you’re thinking about me too much.”

You scoff. You roll your eyes. You pretend it doesn’t affect you.

But then—he starts getting clever. He learns your tells.

He found excuses to touch—small, innocuous touches that linger longer than they should. A hand at the small of your back as he moves past. Fingers curling around your wrist for a second too long when he hands you a drink. A fleeting touch against your waist when he steadies you, his grip warm and certain.

And worst of all—he made you notice.

He watched.

Not obviously, not outright, but intently. His gaze lingered when he thinks you aren’t looking, dark and unreadable. He met your eyes across the room and held them, unblinking, like he was waiting for you to admit something first.

It was unbearable. It was working.

You tried to fight back.

You threw every sharp word, every pointed glare, every biting remark his way. But you never intended harm, and Jiyong was highly aware.

“You really think you’re winning, don’t you?” you proclaimed one afternoon, arms crossed, chin lifted in defiance.

Jiyong grinned, lazy and unbothered, shifting just slightly with the purpose to invade your space.

“I don’t think, doll.” He dipped his head just slightly, voice dropping to a murmur, breath warm against your skin. “I know.”

Your stomach tightened. You shoved at his chest—more forcefully than necessary, your hands pressing warm sparks across his body. He allowed you, laughing, but he’s still watching, still waiting.

You strode away from him. It should have ended there.

It didn’t.

Because now, it was everywhere.

It was the way he looked at you when you were laughing at something else, something completely unrelated, like you were the most fascinating thing in the room.

It was the way his hand lingers at your lower back in a crowded space, casual to anyone watching, but to you—it was anything but.

It was the way he murmurs your name, low and quiet, like a secret slipping through his lips.

And then—then, there was the night you pretty much lost entirely.

The two of you were alone in your office long after the working day had ended, moonlight streaming in through your thin blinds, creating low mood lighting to add to the overwhelming tension in the air. The night hummed with an undercurrent—a weight in the air that neither of you had the courage to name.

You stood in front of your desk, leaning against the edge, your arms crossed against your chest. Jiyong was situated across from you, hands in his pockets, his usual confidence tempered with something quieter. Something heavier.

You should have done something. You should have ended this. You disliked that you were losing this stupid game, giving in was unlike you.

But you said nothing.

Because he was watching you again, like he already knew the answer to a question you had yet to ask. Like he was waiting.

“Tell me something, sweetheart.” His voice is soft now, coaxing. He took a step closer. Not enough to touch, but enough that you can feel the heat of him. “Do you ever think about giving in to me?”

Your breath caught. A part of you wanted to laugh, to scoff, to throw back something sharp and biting. To pretend you were still in control of yourself. Like you were no more than putty in his hands the moment he looked at you the way he did in that bar the night this all had begun.

But you remained silent. Because there was nowhere to run now.

His hand lifted—not touching, but close enough. Hovering near your jaw, close enough that you can feel the warmth of it, the promise.

“Say the word,” he murmured, confident radiating from every syllable. “And this will all stop, I’ll leave you alone. Promise.”

You should have said it. You should have won.

But the space between you was suffocating, and your pulse was hammering too loudly, drowning out any voices of logic, and so you didn't say anything at all.

Because you didn’t want him to stop. And he knew it.

His smirk was gone. His usual playfulness—gone. He waited—because this was the moment, the moment when the game stops being a game.

The moment when you lose.

Your breath was uneven, words challenging him didn't spill from you. And that’s when it happened.

His fingers ghosted along your jaw—soft, reverent, as if testing, as if waiting for you to pull away. But you did no such thing. The action would betray you.

His face was warm, dusted with pink when he leant in closer, when his lips hovered just a breath away from yours. He was so close, you could close the distance yourself, you could finally—

A creak echoed from somewhere in the hallway outside your door. A sharp reminder of reality. You both froze, hearts beating loudly in sync.

Jiyong’s hands were motionless against your skin. His eyes flickered, dark and unreadable, his breath still mingling with yours.

And then—he pulled away from you. Slowly. Deliberately.

Leaving you standing there, heart pounding, breathless.

His smirk was back when he spoke again, but it was softer now, edged with something you can’t quite place.

“Told you this wasn’t a game, sweetheart.”

And then—he walked away.

Leaving you behind with your pulse roaring in your ears.

Leaving you behind to realize—You lost this game a long time ago, before it had even begun.

thank you for reading! might make this a two parter idk, what do you guys think🤷‍♀️

#bigbang #bigbang x reader #gdragon #fanfic #gdragon x reader #kwon jiyong x reader #kwon jiyong #g dragon #kpop fanfic #kpop #emmiesoverthemoon

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puriiinz · 3 days ago

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POSTED | smau abby a.

I; SWEET & EASY

a/n: this was ass but trust me the remaining chaoters r bomb

contains: cursing, sarcasm/mean jokes

masterlist | next

##FROM! YN

as usual, dina made me get ready in a few minutes. she, sadly, doesn't have the tendency to let me know an hour earlier if we're hanging out- or if they're dragging me along to wherever they're going that day. don't get me wrong, i love her with my whole heart but let a girl get ready without a rush please.

as i was locking my door i heard ellie's car pulling up, quickly putting my shoes on, i got out and got in the car.

"hiiii yn..."

"dina please, you're not cute."

"aww don't be mad! we're going to have so much fun today, i swear."

"ugh you know i can't be mad at you for long..."

"love you too!"

"sure..."

ellie began to drive and i started to listen to my own playlist (because ellie doesn't let anyone else touch the aux) and as i looked out the window i realized we were somewhere i've never been before. but i figured we were going to a new mall or something.

when we stopped ellie gestured me to take off my earphones,

"are you ready to make a new friend today yn?" ellie asked while giving me a very... nice smile.

"um.. sure..?"

"great! hi abby."

as she said hi, the door opened and a blonde girl sat next to me- and oh wow...

"hi, sorry if it was quite a drive.."

dina quickly shushed her, leaning back from her seat in an attempt to hug the girl and told her "no problem"

"so abby, this is our dear friend yn; and yn, this is my friend from high school. and she met ellie through her mom."

the girl- abby looked at me as dina was talking. she looked so awkward and her eyes were intense. and she was buff. like grrr, you know?

"hi abby," i smiled "you look very nice."

"oh," she looked flustered "thank you yn, you look pretty cute."

i smiled as a thank you and leaned back, as ellie started the car dina began to talk about something i didn't pay attention to and abby was... doing the same thing as me i guess? looking at her made me feel awkward.

as the car stopped for the second time ellie got out and opened my door, such a gentleman, just to hand me her camera.

i raised my brows, "really?"

she pouted a little "come on, please? you know you're good at managing the camera settings."

i just sighed and began tweaking the cameras settings. we couldn't find a way to make them stay that way permanently so it was my job every time, but it was okay. it made me feel useful.

as we started walking i looked up to see an arcade-but-like-not-really??? i figured we were here just for content.

i gave ellie the camera as she requested to be the cameraman for today, "not in the mood for talking" she said. i wandered off, looking for anything interesting to play with, when i saw my holy grail; the air hockey.

as i was running towards the hockey table abby came out of nowhere, making me stop suddenly.

"you sure you want to play that? no one's beaten me before..." she had a look of fake sadness, it was like she wanted me to beat her.

so i did.

maybe,

almost...

"oh come on! you can't just protect the goal openings, playing a game includes moving. not standing still."

my protest just made abby laugh, "oh i'm sorry- did your father invent air hockey with you beside him?"

it was when dina started laughing i realized that they had our entire match on camera. i was so into the game that i didn't even feel their presence.

"well- actually i can't think of anything witty to say..." this made abby snort. fucking snort. just as i was about to flip abby off, ellie turned the camera to me.

she cleared her throat, "and this, ladies, is the face of a fucking loser."

all i could do was stare at her as she laughed because sadly the purge isn't a real thing.

#puriiinz #tlou2 #tlou #tlou smau #ellie williams tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x you #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson smau #lesbian #wlw #smau #the last of us smau

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poetwon · 2 days ago

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nothin’ feels better ─── ᘛ n.riki ╱

── ⟢ ˙ ̟ you say we’re just friends but i swear when nobody’s around . . .

pairing. nishimura riki x gn!reader ꔛ synopsis. you & ni-ki have been secretly seeing one another until you decide you don’t want to be a secret anymore ∿ genre. angst/fluff , touchy ni-ki , idol!reader ໒ྀི wc. 824 𖥔 nae’s notes. i have no idea why i love angsty ni-ki so much but enjoy my first fic!! ᭥ more !

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the first time this happened was backstage at an award show. you were standing in your dressing room, waiting for your group’s turn on stage. when suddenly ni-ki appeared in your peripheral, cocking his head to call you over before walking down a hallway.

you managed to quietly slip away to follow him into an almost empty room. you closed the door behind you slowly, staring at his tall stature. his dark eyes locked into yours, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“you missed me?” he whispered, stepping closer to you. you scoffed, playfully “i see you almost everyday, i literally just saw you yesterday.”

“well that felt like forever to me.” and before you could even respond, his hands were on your waist, gently pulling you closer to him, before planting the lightest kiss on your forehead.

he always did this, he would steal little moments, did things that made your heart race, then act like nothing ever happened.

so as expected the second you stepped into the hallway where your groups were waiting, ni-ki walked past like you were a stranger. he laughed at something sunoo said, and didn’t spare you a glance.

you hated to admit, but it really stung.

─────

the next moment was in a practice room, after your schedules had ended. you felt annoyed everytime you glanced at him, if you caught him looking, he would look away coldly so you started doing the same.

your groups started leaving, you sat on the floor packing your bag. the second you stood up you were startled by him standing in front of you though he was just on the other side of the room.

“why do you keep looking at me like that?” his low voice asks. “like what?” your monotone voice challenged. “like you hate me.”

you clenched your jaw, breaking your eye contact. you hated that you didn’t hate him. you couldn’t stand the way you practically craved moments with him— only for him to act like you were invisible the second anyone else came around.

so you decided not to play along. he grabbed your hand and traced slow circles on your wrist. you looked down and sighed before pulling away. you pushed past him, quickly walking. he softly called after you, you felt like the strongest soldier not turning back around. you kept walking, slamming the door behind you.

─────

these incidents continued for days. ni-ki would find you in the hybe halls or in an elevator and you would walk away before he even had an opportunity to speak.

you started to see the frustration in his face, the way he became hesitant in approaching you, until he stopped trying completely.

it wasn’t until you decided to answer the knock on your door when everything started to unfold.

he stood there silent, just looking at you. you raised your eyebrows confused, “what ni-ki?”

“okay, what the hell are we doing y/n?” he pleaded. you stood still in the doorway, crossing your arms. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“don’t do that,” he begged. “you can say anything right now but don’t lie to me, don’t act like you don’t care!”

you let out a hollow laugh. “is that not what you do? pretend i don’t exist?” you turned around, leaving the door open, allowing ni-ki to enter.

he followed after you, slamming the door. “it’s not like that y/n and you know it.”

“oh my god then what is it like then ni-ki?” you snapped your head to meet his gaze, anger and pain bubbling over. “you say that everytime but when we’re alone, you act like i’m the only person in the world. but the second anyone is around, i’m a nobody.”

you were met with silence. ni-ki didnt know what to say, there was so much he wanted to say but he didnt even know what to do with all of his emotions.

you sighed fiddling your fingers. “whatever i’m done being your secret.” you go to walk to your room but he stopped you, wrapping his hands around your arm, pulling you to stand back infront of him.

“no!” he shook his head, swallowing like his mouth was getting dry. “you arent that, you arent a nobody” you stared up at him, watching as what seemed like tears filled in his eyes.

“i was just… scared of what would happen, or what people would say.” his hands found their way up to your hair, pushing it out of your face, and tucking it behind your ears.

“but i don’t care anymore,” he whispered. “i just want you.” you swallowed hard, you felt the weight of his words on your chest. “i’m done taking you for granted y/n, please forgive me” he held your face close to his.

your lips formed into a pout before nodding. you slowly let your arms wrap around him, head on his chest. you took a deep breath in and then out, feeling complete utter calmness.

nothing felt better than knowing that these moments won’t be limited anymore, that was the relief you had been yearning for.

.　˚　༺̲̅ 𓊆ྀི@poetwon𓊇ྀི ༻̲̅　˚　. 　 ꙳ ⠀⠀ ⠀

#꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ nae’s works #⊹ 𓈒 ۫ ﹙ n. riki ﹚#⠀⎯⠀ ENHYPEN . ㅤ⬭#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #ni ki x reader #ni ki imagines #nishimura riki x reader #kpop imagines #ni ki fanfiction #kpop fanfic #enhypen fanfiction

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v4mpiirew1tch · 2 days ago

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untitled padded little bakugo fic!! uhh,

comfort, fluff, bkdk, little bakugo & cg izuku

1402 words,,

Katsuki sits with his shoulder against the wall as he sits on his boyfriend’s bed, legs pushed to his chest with his arms wrapped around him as he tries to focus on the cartoon playing from Izuku’s phone, instead of his very real issue.

Izuku, who’s only an arm’s length away from him, has no idea that he needs to be changed and Katsuki is trying everything he can to keep it that way. Just a few moments ago, he complained that Izuku was “too close” when he’s never complained about that before.

Usually, he’s the one urging them to cuddle or sometimes even crying when his boyfriend doesn’t have him wrapped up in his arms or in his lap while they watch television together.

But now, because Katsuki decided to hold off going to the bathroom because he needed to watch one more episode, he’s feeling wet, uncomfortable, and most importantly—ashamed for even putting himself in this situation in the first place.

Unlike some of their other friends who regress, Katsuki doesn’t necessarily need to wear a diaper or any other kind of protection. It’s true that he can regress to the age of three years old, but fortunately the chances of wetting the bed isn’t as high as anyone else.

His real issue is his attention or holding things off in favor of other activities. Izuku can count on one hand the times that he’s suggested that Katsuki should maybe take a break from playing tag with Eijirou or Shoto and use the bathroom, only to shout back at him with embarrassment that Izuku can’t tell him what to do and he’s not the boss of him.

And every single time, without fail, Izuku has to shush his poor, weeping baby and hold his hand as they make their way to the bathroom so he can get cleaned up.

And now, holding himself as he hopes with all his heart that Izuku doesn’t somehow notice that he’s wet, is feeling like he’s going to burst into tears at any moment.

“Kacchan?” His boyfriend suddenly calls out to him, “Are you okay?”

Katsuki jolts. With a shaky breath, he wipes his nose and ducks his head into his arms, “‘M fine…”

Izuku frowns, inching a little closer. “...Are you sure? You’ve been quiet for so long, baby, you’re usually so vocal.”

For a moment, they’re both quiet. Izuku knows deep within his heart that his Kacchan would never be this quiet if there wasn’t a good reason for it.

His mind wanders to the possibility that maybe he’s grumpy because he’s hungry or simply tired, but, one, if Katsuki wanted a snack, he would let Izuku know. Very loudly. And two, he’s already learned the body language that Katsuki gives when he needs a nap, and it definitely isn’t the one he’s giving right now.

So there’s only one other reason why Katsuki would be acting like this, and it’s a situation that he’d been thinking about ever since Katsuki agreed that he needs protection when he’s little.

Already having almost every possibility in his mind for the way this conversation could go, he decides that he needs to be as gentle with Katsuki as possible.

He reaches over to grab his boyfriend’s hand and asks, “…Do you need to be changed?”

Katsuki’s shoulders start to shake as the sob he’s been holding in since he realized he was wet in the first place. He hiccups, “I dunno…”

“You don’t know?” He asks, gently.

Katsuki shakes his head, not yet wanting to admit it.

Izuku folds his hands in his lap patiently. He coos, “Do you feel wet, baby?”

As soon as he sees tears slipping out of his eyes and sobs escaping Katsuki’s mouth, Izuku pulls his boyfriend in and gives him a hug. It’s less of a stressful cry, more akin to a baby who’s simply upset.

Izuku never discourages Katsuki from crying, in fact encourages him to sometimes because he knows it’ll make him feel better to let it all out. But right now he can’t help but shush his boyfriend as he pulls him into his lap and wraps his arms around him.

“Ohh,” He whispers, rocking Katsuki in his arms. “This is all still scary, huh?”

Katsuki nods his head with a pouty lip. He whimpers, tears dampening his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Y-Yeah…!”

Izuku hums, pushing his blond hair back and pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “I know, Kacchan. It’s okay to be scared.”

Hearing that, he digs his face deeper into Izuku’s shoulder. It was such a conflicting feeling, needing to wear protection. But deep down, he knew that being padded made him feel safer, knowing that there would be no more switching his uncomfortable, wet pants for cleaner ones when Izuku had to change him in the bathroom.

When Izuku moves slightly, Katsuki whines and holds onto his shirt to keep him seated. “I’m not going anywhere far, I promise!” Izuku tells him. “I just need to grab my supplies so we can get you changed, okay?”

Katsuki’s rubs the tears away from his eyes, “Okay…”

Izuku sits him back on the bed, which Katsuki whines at again. “You’re okay Kacchan, I’m right here.” He assures him, rubbing his knee as goes and reaches under his bed.

Katsuki watches him pull out an orange diaper bag that’s patterned with cutesy cartoon characters and sit it on the bed. Izuku stands up from the bed, unzipping the bag and taking out a clean, fluffy towel.

With a smile, he lays the towel out near the edge of the bed and pats it for his boyfriend to sit on. “Over here, Kacchan!” He gently encourages.

With a wobbly bottom lip, he scoots on top of the towel. But he’s surprised when Izuku suddenly gasps. “Oh my gosh! I almost forgot something…!”

Katsuki blinks at him confused as he digs back into the diaper bag and pulls out a similarly orange pacifier along with a bear plushie.

“Your stuffie!” Izuku beams, handing it to his little one.

The biggest smile spreads on Katsuki’s face. “Bear!” He says as he holds his plushie in his arms. Taking the opportunity, Izuku pops the pacifier into his mouth and he watches it bob against Katsuki’s lips.

With him distracted, Izuku gently lies Katsuki down on the fluffy towel. Katsuki can feel his sweatpants being undressed, his shirt pull up slightly, and hears the tapes of his diaper being pulled off.

It’s disposed of in a nearby mini trash can and Izuku makes a mental note to empty it out before the night is over. While Katsuki’s still feeling okay, sucking on his pacifier, he grabs a clean diaper and starts pushing it under Katsuki’s bottom.

Izuku coos at him, tickling Katsuki’s stomach, which makes him giggle so much that his pacifier almost falls out.

He giggles back, taking out lavender scented baby powder and baby wipes. This is the part where Izuku needs to be really gentle. He soothes Katsuki’s whines by shushing him again as he cleans his bottom and parts with the baby wipes.

“Shh, we’re almost done Kacchan.” Izuku tells him, sprinkling a decent amount of baby powder onto him. “And you’re doing really well!”

Once that’s done, Izuku’s finally able to do the tapes of the diaper and pull his pants back up. With a big smile, he sits Katsuki back up and congratulates him, “You did it, baby, you’re all finished! You were so brave!”

Katsuki blinks in surprise, not expecting it to be over so soon. Not like he wanted it to last longer, but it didn’t last as long as he thought it would and wasn’t nearly as bad as he imagined.

The blond’s mouth quirks into a bashful smile. “‘M brave?” He says behind his pacifier, holding his bear plushie closer.

Katsuki’s suddenly pulled into a comforting hug. “Mhm! Kacchan is so, so brave!” Izuku cheers, peppers his little one’s face in kisses.

Katsuki can’t help but giggle as he’s showered in kisses and praise. He’s happy again, not just because of Izuku, but because he’s comforted by the soft texture on his bottom.

He’s reminded how little it makes him feel, how safe it makes him feel. Katsuki settles himself against Izuku’s chest, happy that he’s dry again. Maybe being padded isn’t the worst thing in the world after all.

#vamp’s fics #i just had to write this #srry for any writing errors #i wrote this in less than two hours #sfw age regression #sfw agere #age regression #little bakugo #cg izuku #agere bkdk #padded agere

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yujiimybeloved · 3 days ago

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Has Anyone Else Died For You? | Megumi Fushiguro

06: S. L. U. T

Words: 2.7 k

Mainlist

Things are not going any better, maybe you should stay away from him.

"Damn, you look terrible."

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, you couldn't complain, your dark circles were noticeable, you were in my pajamas and you were clearly tired. "You are so kind Megumi."

"I know, it's like a god's Gift."

You let him in and he followed you into your room, plopping down on your bed as if it were his own. He was bipolar and changeable, days ago he had threatened you and now he acted as if nothing had happened.

"What happened?"

"I don't know, I just- aghhh." It was frustrating how hard it was for you to talk about what you felt, you were in a constant conflict about what you were and what you wanted to prove. You were supposed to be the good girl, but good girls don't make out with the best friend of the guy they're dating and then call him because they need someone to talk to. "It's complicated."

"What's so complicated?"

"It doesn't matter, what did you bring?" You walked over and sat across from him. Before August you hadn't tried a single drug and now here you were.

"Well, I don't have PCP anymore, but I brought some weed and cocaine, we can use whatever you want." While you were still slightly embarrassed to resort to this, he spoke it completely naturally.

"Which one is better?"

"It depends on what you want."

"I just want to relax, I've been feeling too overwhelmed the last few days." or rather your whole life.

"Have you ever smoked?"

"never."

"Okay, then we'll use cocaine." He took out a small bag from his pocket and spread the white powder on your bedside table in four lines.

"Is it safe?" There was the sanctimonious one again, you had already done it came this far, you couldn't back down just because you were a coward.

"Nothing is, but we're already here, so give it a try."

"What should I do?" You got out of bed and knelt in front of the bedside table.

"Whatever you want, you can lick it or snort it, it's probably easier if you eat it since you've never put anything in your nose." You nodded and ran your tongue over one of the lines before giving yourself a chance to regret it, as you licked your eyes they went up like this megumi just to look for some sign that you were doing well, he didn't say anything but kept his deep blue eyes fixed on you, the feeling of Numbness was practically immediate, you swallowed saliva and your eyes remained on him while he bent down and inhaled one of the lines he wiped the remains with the back of his hand, he did not seem surprised by the sensation. "Do you want to talk about what's wrong with you or...?"

"I think Yuji is going to ask me to be his girlfriend tomorrow." You knew this was putting you on dangerous ground after everything that had happened but you had practically vomited it, you needed to get it out. His expression immediately warmed at the mention of his best friend, you had made him angry but he was far from having the manic expression he had when he threatened you, it was not good but it was not so bad either.

"And? Shouldn't you be happy? That's supposed to be what you wanted."

"I'm not saying that- well... I don't know, it's confusing."

"Why? Do you like him or not?"

"Yes, but not that way."

"Then you're just playing with him."

"I'm not, but I don't want to hurt him." Even you were aware of how stupid you sounded, but this time you hadn't planned an excuse. You were making a big mess and you knew it.

"Or is it just because you like the attention he's giving you?" He grabbed your chin lifting your face and forcing you to look at him. "Look at you, you'd fall for anyone who gave you a little attention."

You frowned at his accusation, but you knew he was right, you lived for attention. "It's not true."

"It is, if you didn't want to hurt Yuji you would have made things clear to him from the beginning and you wouldn't be playing this way with him."

"I'm not playing with him." Maybe not, but you were getting a personal benefit from dating him. "I want to do things right but I still feel guilty." You loved Yuji, he was a great friend but you knew you weren't in love with him.

"Why?"

"Because you kissed me."

"No, you feel guilty because you liked me kissing you."

"No, that's not true."

"It is." He leaned toward you, his face a few inches from yours. "Tell me to stop and I'll do it." Silence flooded your room, you didn't say anything, your eyes locked on him trying to replicate the same defiant attitude he had, he kissed you once again, but now it was much softer than the first time.

It was just a tiny, almost chaste kiss, one that felt as good as it felt bad. He walked away from you and you were still on your knees on the floor, you rested your cheek on his thigh and he stroked your hair.

"Look at you, you desperate puppy, you're an attention slut."

You blamed the drug for what you were feeling even if you knew you had been conscious enough to have denied that kiss.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?"

Your doe eyes staring down at him, shiny, so stupid and helpless, pretending to be drugged and vulnerable when in fact they both knew you weren't like that.

"Yes."

And who was he to deny it? At least not when you looked so pretty and willing.

Megumi took your hair into her fist and pulled it back, he leaned over you, his other hand went to your face, his fingers felt cold against your warm cheeks. His thumb gently stroked your soft skin.

He hated you, he hated you so much but he hated even more that if Yuji didn't give up his stupid idea of a romance he would have you all to himself.

Megumi had been obsessed with you for years and finally had you like this, on your knees and expentant to him, but it wasn't enough yet there were many things he wanted to do to you, but he knew he would have to wait.

Because he wanted to make you his but he also wanted to hurt you.

He leaned over you and kissed you again, instinctively you parted your lips to make way for his tongue, neither of you was in any hurry, they were savoring the moment, you were weak from attention, you were weak from the false sense of love, You were weak because of him, because you knew he was bad, that he was a treacherous bastard, but you didn't care because that's what you liked the most.

You spent hours sitting on Megumi's lap making out with him and for the first time in months you felt really relaxed. All your worries disappeared as he groped and practically ate you.

You felt great, really great but the next morning you woke up feeling like shit.

At least there was no black out and the raw physics were not so bad, but ultimately the raw morale felt even worse. You swore to yourself that you would never do it again, you knew that promise probably wouldn't last long but at least you would feel better, you didn't want to take the drug issue any further.

You tried not to think about Megumi but your mind came back to the kiss again and again, you hated yourself because that memory had been engraved in your mind and you doubted that it would come out soon.

As you could, you got out of bed, put on your prettiest dress and put on makeup, it took you almost two hours but later there you were in front of the restaurant completely dolled up and ready to act like you really wanted this. When you saw Yuji waiting for you wearing his best suit and playing with his fingers nervously you felt like vomiting and banging your head against the wall, but it was no longer time to regret it so instead of running out and going home you approached him.

He got up from his chair, put his arm around your waist, and left a kiss on your cheek. "You look beautiful." You sat down and then he sat down in front of you. "The most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

You would have preferred to be the best but you were quite far from that.

"Don't overdo it."

"I'm not doing it, I'm serious."

"Well, you look great, really handsome." Yuji was an excellent guy, he had everything to be the perfect boyfriend and you knew you didn't deserve it.

You both had dinner, he was talking and you were practically silent barely participating in the conversation, you could tell how nervous he was and that only made you just as nervous, when he finished he paused and cleared his throat.

"I know it may seem like a quick thing, but I'm pretty sure with this, I'd really like to formalize things with you." The more he talked, the more you wanted to die, disappear at that very moment and never be seen again. "Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

You had been officially dating Yuji for a week and knew that you should feel happy, but that strange feeling stayed with you.

Because you didn't like Yuji enough, because you saw sukuna in him, because you had kissed Megumi before making it official with him, because you kept inviting Megumi to your house, the list of reasons was long and in all of them the only one to blame was you.

"The sweet and a good guy and handsome and kind, but..." You sighed, you couldn't find a single flaw, not a single but that would make you not look so bad.

"But?"

"It's complicated."

"Have you slept with him?" You couldn't hide your grimace at such a question, you didn't know where that had come from but you could definitely imagine something like that from Megumi.

"Don't be weird."

A small smile appeared on his lips. "I'm not, he just hasn't told me anything about it and he usually tells me everything."

"Maybe he likes to keep his sex life private."

"Not with me, this is your way of telling me that nothing has happened? Maybe in fact you're a prude"

You rolled your eyes and a faint blush appeared on your cheeks. "Just shut up."

"Why?" Basically, because Yuji was a gentleman and you hadn't tried to make any moves either, you had already gone far enough to take another step.

"I don't know, it would be weird."

"Don't you want to compare him to Sukuna?"

"Oh my God, don't be disgusting, Megumi." You threw a pillow at him and he laughed, it was weird how sometimes he could be really nice and other times mean as fuck.

"Well, I'm going to shut up." He raised his hands in surrender but the smile didn't disappear from his lips.

"You're horrible, I swear," you said as you shook your head and sighed before getting out of bed.

"You too, Angel. do you sleep with his brother, kiss his best friend, aren't you the nicest girlfriend?" Well, you must have assumed that it was a long time before Megumi would act like a bitch again but somehow you felt it less rough than before. "Every man would desire a woman like you."

You didn't answer anything, there wasn't much to say, you had made your decisions, you would have to face the consequences at some point.

"You look like a virgin and act like a whore. I wonder how well trained Sukuna left you."

Part of him loved to see the way you squirmed at his words, even if you tried to keep that hard façade he could see through all the layers you had put on.

But the other party hated the fact that he knew that another man had had what he hadn't, that you had given him what he hadn't. His stomach ached with jealousy and envy.

Then there was total silence you slapped him on the cheek as hard as you had available, you didn't want to be violent but He brought out the worst in you.

"Shut up, you're no better than me."

Although he held his cheek as his skin warmed and turned a deep red thanks to the blow, he did nothing.

"I'm not but I'm not playing at being the sanctimonious woman of the town, Angel." He sneered. "It's funny how much you hide the fact that you're just a big attention slut."

"You're a fucking stupid megumi." You didn't feel like fighting but you didn't feel like hearing him talk like that about you either, although the plan was to ignore him you couldn't stay silent either.

You hated Megumi especially because he wasn't a good person either, you'd dare to say he was worse than you but he always said he was better because he didn't hide it, he's just a big idiot who thinks being evil is fun.

"Maybe." You hated the way he always made fun of you. "and Maybe you should breakup with Yuji."

"No." the subject had you tired, he told you that every fucking day and you couldn't take it anymore, you hated it.

"Why? You don't even like it, you said it over and over again."

"Not that I don't like it, but-" He interrupted you even though you didn't even know what you were planning to say, you didn't have any lies planned and no credible excuses either.

"But you're an attention whore." Again with the same chant, if you had a cent for every day Megumi doesn't call you a whore you'd have 0 cents and that number wouldn't increase.

"Shut up."

"Don't be angry, I just say what I see, Angel, don't be offended" It was also annoying as I would say things like that completely calmly and then feel stupid for letting it get you out of your mind.

"You're being mean on purpose again. Why do you insist on this so much?"

He was silent for a moment that felt eternal, you were tired of not having answers from Megumi, he was completely changeable, one moment you are both fine and the next it seems like he hates you again.

"Because I know you're not good, you're not enough for Yuji. You slept with his brother, you talk and talk about how you don't like him and you kissed me twice." You hated him for being right, you hated him for kissing you, you hated yourself for kissing him.

"Shut up, I didn't even know him when I was with Sukuna, I'm just confused and YOU kissed me when he wasn't my boyfriend yet." You tried to justify yourself even though you knew it was a weak defense.

"You're just trying to justify yourself, but you know you're wrong, you look terrible."

You rolled your eyes, you were frustrated and angry, and the last thing you needed was feedback on your appearance. "Thank you, how kind."

"I'm serious, do you really look bad, tired, sad, what's going on?" He got out of bed and slowly approached you. "Isn't it that the remorse of conscience is consuming you?"

"Stop talking nonsense." Megumi stood in front of you and put his hand on your cheek, but you slapped it away, "don't come close."

"Because you know you're not going to turn me down."

"You have no idea what I'm going to do."

"You're predictable, I've already checked it more than once."

"Stop talking like you're a fucking mastermind, you don't know me, you never will." You hated that he talked like he knew you, you hated that he talked like he had some control over you, you hated when he gave orders like he knew you were going to obey him, you hated his threats, you hated his insults, but you didn't hate him... The hope that he would change had vanished, but you kept calling him whenever you felt lonely, whenever you wanted a friend.

"You're a psychopath, Megumi." You didn't know what was wrong with him, but you didn't have to be very smart to know he wasn't normal.

"And you're a lying whore, it seems like we all have our flaws, don't we?"

Notes area

>Thanks for reading

>Comments, Feedback and suggestions are welcome.

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foundouthatdabiistouyatodoroki · 2 days ago

Text

Touya's past analysis: Part 2: Chapter 302

Right, let's flash forward to 5 years later. Touya was on the computer probably working until Natuso and Fuyumi came in to invite him to play soccer with them, to which Touya responded with a natural expression.

Touya here seemed quiet in contrast to his exuberant personality in the last chapter; that might be what he looked like around other people from the outside.

But there's something I noticed Touya doesn’t seem to enjoy the same activity his siblings invited him to even though he agreed the biggest difference is in his face when he agreed he didn’t look excited when he was being asked to play the only face we ever saw him that ever looked happy was training with Endeavor.

Then the look Touya gave in his panel, Touya is looking at Endeavor it had anger and jealousy. He had jealousy towards Shoto as his replacement and anger at his father for abandoning him. He knew his father was looking away from him on purpose and was angry at that.

Here, it is obvious what Touya wanted: his father to pay attention to him. The look on his face is what he wants for his father to look at him.

Another thing Touya noticed was that Shoto was dragged off by Endeavor to train. None of the siblings noticed Shoto, but Touya did. This small aspect says something about him; this indicates that he's the only one who saw the problems in the household when his family didn’t want to look.

The fact that his siblings didn’t notice meant that they were not aware of what Touya wanted; they neither acknowledged his feelings nor completely understood Touya’s wants. They were blind to what he needed and never listened to his feelings properly. They aren’t just blind to Touya but also blind to the problems in the family. These problems were not brought up, and it felt like Touya was not being seen. Touya never felt understood in the household.

After the accident with Shoto, Touya is still thinking about and feeling guilty about it. This shows he is capable of feeling remorse and recognizing his wrongdoings even if he is losing sleep over it. He never properly spoke with his parents about it in the household or had the moment to process his feelings about the accident he didn’t have anyone he could talk to about it which only left him with Natsuo, Touya knew it wasn’t a good solution, but it was better than bottling up his emotions.

Here Touya is questioning the very notion of a hero to Natsuo in bed such as if heroes are supposed to be righteous then why do they commit atrocious acts and get away with it and question how someone like Endeavor can be considered a hero when he isn’t a decent person to his family this proved that Touya at his age was well aware of his circumstances in the household at his age even question them.

He told all this to Natsuo and not to anyone else in the family, the whole reason he clung to Natsuo is that he views Natsuo as someone who might understand him due to having similarities both being boys, discarded by Endeavor and being neglected by him and called failures for not having an ideal quirk Natsuo is a product of endeavors ambition like him that the reason why Touya only talked to Natsuo is that he mistakenly believed that Natsuo would understand him but he's wrong that was only a misconception on Touya’s part. Natsuo had different feelings regarding the situation, he had no idea he was born for his own father's ulterior motives and never experienced the same thing Touya did. Touya doesn’t think that maybe Natsuo views the situation differently. The reason he doesn’t think that Natsuo didn’t feel the same is because He had no one to talk to.

I pointed out empathy before in my posts a long time ago, and here it solidifies what I thought: empathy is acknowledging that you don’t know someone, it's acknowledging that very limit.

When Natsuo shoeing him away so he can sleep, Touya doesn’t understand how it's not obvious to his brother and takes his words as rejection because Touya feels Natsuo is the only one who listens to him and understands his feelings but Natsuo doesn’t understand him those tears meant that Touya is desperate worried that he had no one to turn to and that he's all alone. To Touya, being understood means being seen. He wants Natsuo to understand him so he can feel seen. If he acknowledged that no one in the house understood him, it would be like saying that no one saw him.

This is exactly like how he vented to Fuyumi. It ended with Touya feeling dismissed and stomping away. Neither of his siblings acknowledged his feelings.

Touya never went to Fuyumi and Rei for his problems to be around them Touya would either have to pretend everything was okay or be shamed and gaslighted for complaining they both isolated those who aren't and are being hurt like Touya both willing turned a blind eye of the abuse of the household this is what Touya meant by good for nothing because they saw the abuse but did nothing about hence they are good for nothing. This is why Touya felt rejected when Natsuo asked why he didn’t go to Fuyumi because Fuyumi is one of the people complicit in the abuse.

Touya was not seen or understood by either of the siblings. Touya must have felt that no one in the house ever saw him, and it's not hard to see why

Next, we have Rei trying to stop Touya from going to train in the mountains,

when Touya said different worlds people believed that Touya adapted that mindset from Endeavor this is what makes people think he is turning into Endeavor but he isn’t it sounds like the same wording that Endeavor uses but Touya is not Endeavor, this is the same boy who questioned the notion of a hero to Natsuo in bed it may the same wording but with albeit different meanings.

Different worlds is a term Endeavor uses as an excuse to run away from his problems and avoid facing any responsibility for his actions.

In the previous chapter, Touya said that his classmates wanted to be heroes, so here Touya uses the term to emphasize the disconnect between him and his classmates. Touya feels disconnected from others since he was raised as a tool. No one his age can relate to his situation or possibly understand him. Not even his classmates can comprehend a hero doing bad things to his family since they wanted to be heroes. So, hearing them say they want to be heroes is isolating because it reminds them of the abuse at home. Disconnected not only from his classmates but also from his family, so he's saying, “I don’t need them because they don’t understand me”.

Then, Rei asked this.

It manages to pierce through Touya enough to halt him in his tracks. He does want to be a hero, but he wants to be good enough in his father's eyes only, but the follow-up ruined it.

Rei’s words confirm that she saw Enji’s mistreatment of their kids but turned a blind eye to it, revealing that she was complicit in the abuse in the household. That's why he looked shocked because it confirmed that he had Natsuo.

This is the same woman who noticed Touya's desires. If she knew to some extent, why did she fail? This ties back to Shoto’s talk with Izuku about how actions are important and Rei did nothing and what makes matters worse her advice sounded the same advice to what Endeavor gave Touya

she has done the same thing that she told her son not to do so, basically telling him to do what I do ignoring Touya’s feelings in favor of her own it ignores Touya’s feelings problems and goals she didn’t practice what she preached and this is what Touya called her out on.

Touya angrily calls her out on her hypocrisy in her advice and is aware that Rei didn’t marry Endeavor out of her own will but for her parents, which is why her words come off as belittlement because she has done the same thing she told her son not to do this is what he is angry at Rei for.

He told Rei that she couldn’t understand his pain and was just as guilty of the abuse for being complicit. The sad thing is that he's right.

Touya must have read self-help books to learn to manage his feelings, but they didn’t address his feelings.

Touya's anger showed that he poured his heart out with sweat dripping on his face, meaning his body temperature is rising and making him sweat, and his intense yelling at Rei heated his emotions and increased the flames of his fire.

That line here is a metaphor for his emotions.

This part is used to amplify the fact that Touya has a weak body. Touya is 13, and his voice didn’t change when he hit puberty. That could be why his family couldn’t recognize Dabi by his voice, which had gotten deeper yet before he left the family. What was more noticeable was the change in his flames.

This revealed something about Touya: that he didn’t have control over his flames, just their intensity. He knows how to increase his flames, not decrease them, a metaphor for how he cannot regulate his emotions.

Touya is crying as a result of a discovery and here Touya is smiling as well, which means that Touya is still holding on to hope that his dad might care.

Touya is still smiling and holds positive feelings for his dad. He is hopeful despite years of being neglected. Not good enough, he is still not giving up, only to have the opposite of what he hoped.

That sweat meant he didn’t expect his father to react this way to being violently grabbed by the arm.

Touya made sure to hide his wounds in places that wouldn’t be visible so his father wouldn’t tell him to give up since his wounds were the reason why Endeavor created distance in the first place.

Touya is tearing out his hair. Referencing the change in the color of his hair is what started the distance in his relationship with his father in the first place.

Touya knows why Endeavor is training Shoto, Touya sees Shoto as his competition Touya recognizes that Shoto is stronger than him at the moment as long as Shoto is around and better than Touya Endeavor won’t pay attention to him but Touya doesn’t dwell on his feeling he knows Endeavor is currently only impressed by Shoto and Shoto sets the bar and Touya is trying to make his father see that he can reach that bar too and had hope that his father would be proud of him and view him as worthy.

But here, he's begging Endeavor in the last two panels. It's pretty desperate...

Touya is sitting alone, huddling. He starts to cry but rubs it. Touya condemns himself for his weakness since that weakness is why his father abandoned him.

When he was thinking of his father tears came into his eyes, and it made him lose control of his flames.

Touya was surprised that his fire grew so strong he was unable to stop it. He wasn’t aware that he couldn’t control the flames, just the temperature. Endeavor only taught Touya how to increase his flames, not how to decrease them.

#my meta #meta #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #dabi #rei todoroki #fuyumi todoroki #todoroki fuyumi #natsuo todoroki #todoroki natsuo #enji todoroki

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