#AND NOTHING LEFT TO LOSE IS SUCH AN INTENSE SONG

[rexscanonwife]

I know I hit y'all with those angsty AU ideas all the time but like for context

Let Me Make You Proud from the Tangled series is SUCH an unbelievably 'Kepler' song and its on my playlist for him and if I had the wherewithal I'd make an animatic out of it for him 😤 but that ALSO got me thinking about the song Nothing Left to Lose also from Tangled and I thought 😳 Sith Lord AU...

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter one ⭐︎ Waiting Room

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of death and injuries, mention of physical assault (physical fight), head injuries, mention of bruises and scars, mention of Eddie's almost death. pining. allusions to unrequited love. enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort. lots and lots of tension. slow burn. also, instead of writing summaries, I will name each chapter after a song that fits the vibe of each chapter. Also, mentioning this again, her nickname has nothing to do with her hair color.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 6.9k

Author's note: @hellfire--cult you know I will mention you in every chapter, so don't even try to fight me. Thanks for coming up with all these ideas with me mwah! — This is only the beginning, guys. This story will progress into something much more intense after chapter four or five, I can’t wait to share this one with you and get into the good and spicy stuff hehe!

Read the prologue first!

series masterlist ⭐︎ next chapter

♡

Your body was aching and everything inside of you was screaming at you to not open your eyes just yet, you felt as though you were being dragged out of it. All your limbs were hurting, your skin aching, your head was pounding. You could not begin to describe the pain even if you tried, it was unlike anything you had felt before. Your memory was lost, at least that’s what it felt like for the first few seconds. 

Then they started coming back slowly. 

From the gate in the water, to Steve being pulled under.

From the bats trying to bite chunks of his skin to you doing everything in your power to save him. 

From the creepy old Creel house, to Max offering herself as the bait. 

As pictures of her flashed in your mind, you suddenly started to register the smell – the disinfectant, the disgusting smell of hospital. You heard the beeping of the machines next to you, and you felt the wires attached to your body. 

You tried to press your lips together, though tears burned in your eyes when the crack in your lip stung. 

You moved your hand as you slowly opened your eyes to bright lights shining into the room you were in. You squinted them, trying to adjust to the light and the vision in front of you, it took you a moment, everything was still so blurry. 

From the corner of your eye, you could see a mop of dark curls. You slowly moved your head to the left side, restraining a groan when you felt a flash of pain in your head. You blinked a few times, taking in the sight of a bruised and battered Eddie, who was looking down at his rings, twisting and playing with them nervously. 

“Eddie?” You said and only then you felt how dry your throat had felt, how raspy your voice had sounded and how much it was aching. 

You did not notice the movement on your right side.

He straightened up as he lifted his head so suddenly, eyes wide as he looked into yours. Relief flashed his face and a smile appeared on his lips.

“Oh thank god.. Hi sweetheart.. slept well?” 

You stared at him for a good long minute, trying to figure out what had happened to him. By the developing scars on his face and the white bandage around his neck, you had an idea of what had gotten to him. 

Was he on the brink of death just like you had been? 

By the look in his eyes, you could tell that he was. 

“Huh… I’m not dead?” 

He shook his head, eyes filled with relief, “gladly no.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, “well, shucks,” you sighed, like you didn’t fight for your life back at the Creel house. 

Eddie sighed but chuckled, understanding your dark humor better than anyone else – despite only knowing you for a few days. 

A cough finally fell from your lips when you tried to sit up, though losing the strength to, you fell back again.

Eddie instantly reached for the water bottle on the table next to you, pouring some into the plastic cup before he carefully placed it into your hand, trying not to touch the bruises on your knuckles. 

You thanked him with a small smile before you lifted the cup to your lips with shaky hands. 

“Careful,” Eddie whispered as he watched you.

You nodded and closed your eyes as you took a sip of the water, welcoming the feeling of the coldness in your dry throat, you took a few sips before you handed him back the cup. 

“How long was I out?”

The sigh from your right side startled you a little, with furrowed brows, you turned to look only to be caught off guard. 

Steve Harrington.

With his arms crossed, he stood by the window, staring at you with an unreadable look on his face. He took you in, eyes glaring at the wounds on your skin. 

“You had to have surgery. There–... There was a deep concussion in your head and a vessel popped. If they didn’t do it quickly you..” He could not bring himself to finish that sentence, he clenched his jaw and looked down at his hands. 

Your heart fluttered at the sight of him. 

Even in this current state, you could not help but smirk cheekily, though it dropped the moment it appeared when you suddenly could feel all the bruises on your face. Your eyes watered and a wince fell from your lips. 

Steve lifted his head at the sound. 

And Eddie straightened up. 

“Don’t move your face too much, sweets.. It’s…” He stopped as he felt anger and sadness hit him all at once. 

He did not want to tell you how bad it really was – how your skin was bruised, how puffy your eyes were. 

You closed your eyes again and laid your head back. 

“Ah, he got me good, didn’t he?” 

Steve swallowed harshly. 

He pushed away the pain from seeing you like this and cleared his throat. He licked his lips and leaned closer. 

“Yeah, but you got him better.” 

You frowned at his words, not quite understanding. 

Eddie glared at him, not knowing how you would take the news so soon. 

“Huh?”

Steve ignored the look in Eddie’s eyes, he kept his on you. 

“Jason’s dead. He fell onto broken wood… that impaled him.”

Oh. 

Flashes of the night came in a blur. 

The fight. 

His rough hands as he hit you, over and over again, as he held you down and wrapped his merciless fingers around your throat, aiming for the kill. 

You felt your heart beating a little faster at the memory, how scared you were when he pointed a gun at Lucas before you stepped in between them, knowing that he could have shot you, right then and there. How much it hurt when he sliced your cheek open with the stupid ring on his finger as he delivered the first punch, how close to death you were when he choked you. You saw the look in his eyes, the rage, as he called you a traitor for protecting ‘the killer’ of your friend. Tears of frustration and anger fell from your eyes when you almost lost the fight – Lucas’s screams as he called out to Max urged you to fight back, and you did, you used every last bit of your strength to throw him off of you and pushed him away. 

Pushed him into his death. 

You do not feel bad. – Max could have died because of him. He would have killed Lucas. He wanted to kill you. 

“Good,” you murmured as you blinked the tears away that formed in your eyes again, “he was going to kill the kids.. He had a gun.. He had a gun, Steve.”

It was almost weird to hear you call him by his name. 

He instantly rushed to your side and reached for your hand, something that neither of you would ever think back to again. 

“Yeah, and you saved them. Listen, you can’t talk much, you need to heal, Blondie.”

Right. The ache in your neck was not from the lack of water, it was from the bruises, from almost being strangled to death.

“Everything else is being taken care of,” he said as he squeezed your hand. 

You ignored the feeling in your chest and turned to look at Eddie. 

“And you?” 

“Well, you are looking at a free man! A free man that was targeted by Victor Creel himself after he got out of Pennhurst. I trespassed into his home many times and he had a vendetta against me or some shit.”

You felt relief rushing through you. 

Though, you saw the hurt behind his eyes, knowing he had to lie about seeing Creel killing Chrissy. 

He did not want to put the blame on somebody else, he knew what it had felt like to be accused of something he hadn’t done – but there was no other option, he had no choice, he wasn’t given one. People of power had told him what to do. In return, he got his name cleared and had been given a good amount of money for ‘the troubles’. Money that he could live off from for the rest of his life.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Eddie.” 

He smiled at your words, nodding. 

“What happened to you?” 

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Steve. 

“He played hero when he shouldn’t have.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes at him. 

Hero. There wasn’t only one hero that night. 

Almost in panic, you straightened up. 

“Where’s Max?” 

Steve put his hand on yours again, giving it a pat as he tried to calm you down, though all he gave you was shivers running down your spine from his touch. 

“Healing. He broke one arm and one leg, but she is awake. Robin is with her, she’s been waiting for you to wake up.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, the weight in your shoulders fell just like that. You felt like crying, but you wouldn’t do it here, in front of them. 

“And everyone else?”

You took in the sight of him, properly this time. 

There were dark circles beneath his eyes, tiredness in his face.

You didn’t know what prompted you to do this, maybe it was the high anesthetic in your system or a spur of the moment – but you lifted your hand, reached out to him to graze your fingertips against his neck, on the mark where the tail of a demobat almost strangled him. 

He did not pull away, but he stared at you with wide eyes, blushing at your action.  

“I-I’m fine.. Everyone else is too,” he said and cleared his throat. 

A scoff on your left pulled you back and you removed your hand from Steve’s neck to look over at Eddie. 

“Speak for yourself, I have like forty stitches all over my body.”

How he managed to joke about that while he was still in so much pain? You did not know. But then again, you were just the same. 

He spared you the details when he began to talk about what happened in the upside down. Steve did not want to revive the story again, seemingly not handling the thought of his new friend dying so cruelly. He left and told you that he’d come back later. 

As Eddie was telling you about the swarm of bats, you felt the pain in your chest, just like when you had found out about Chrissy, just like when you had found out about him. 

Eddie was a new addition to your life, you two are barely even friends, though you do not know how you would handle the news of him not making it. 

“I’m happy you’re here.”

Eddie’s eyes softened, though a smirk tugged at his lips. 

“Going soft on me now, sweets?” He chuckled, surprised to hear such words from you. “Or are you still on drugs? Where’s the little ol’ meanie, I kinda liked her.” 

A pained chuckle fell from your lips. 

“She’ll be back in no time, don’t you worry.”

Your laughter died down when you thought of the way he looked at you. 

Judging by all the pain you were still feeling, you knew that you looked awful. 

“How bad do I look? Be honest, please.”

Eddie shook his head with a pained look on his face. He looked down for a moment. His eyes flashed with anger and sadness. 

“Bad, sweetheart. When we found out that Jason did this to you.. We wanted to revive him only to kill him again,” he said angrily. “Steve wanted to rip his corpse apart, that’s what Robin told me.”

For a moment, you felt cheerful and your eyes had softened. 

For a moment you had thought that he cared. 

But Eddie quickly pulled you back into reality after shattering that illusion. 

“He saw what he did to Lucas, it’s not as bad as you but.. fuck. He was going to kill Max too.”

Steve was angry at Jason because of the teens, not because of what he did to you, never because of you. He wouldn’t have cared if you bleed out on the ground in the Creel house. He wouldn’t have cared if you died. 

You focused on Eddie, on the anger in his features – it made your eyes soften, knowing that you found another friend, one that you should probably protect from the curse that you are. 

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I can walk now..”

You frown, tilting your head at him before you look down at yourself. 

“How long have I been out?” You asked when you realized that Steve had never answered your question. 

“You’ve been out for a whole week, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened, you dug your hands into the mattress and pushed yourself up. 

“Whoa, whoa!” Eddie raised his hands as he tried to stop you from sitting up. 

“W-What, oh my god, my sister must be worried!” 

He put his hand on your arm, gently – you had noticed it before, how careful he had been to touch you, like he was afraid of hurting you, like you were something fragile. 

“Yeah, about that–” He never got to finish his sentence as the door burst open and your sister stormed inside the room. 

Your eyes widened at the sight of her, not because you were surprised or confused to see her here, but because it’s been two months since you had last seen her. Besides the concerned look on her face, she was glowing – maybe it was the pregnancy or maybe it was just the fact that she has been much happier since leaving Hawkins behind. 

“Hi hi, honey! Are you okay?” 

That day she had the same concern in her voice as she does now while she talks your ear off about how important it is to go to all your checkups at the Hospital. She is calling every day, just to remind you – and to check on you. 

You are fine. Just fine. 

You survived an attack, you survived surgery, you survived. You made a good recovery and you are getting better each day. Besides, Eddie and Max are on your back about the check-ups just as much, you have no choice but to go to them. 

You’re holding the telephone between your ear and your shoulder as you finish touching up your make up, applying some gloss to your lips before you pick up the brush one more time and carefully go through your hair, trying not to hurt yourself, your head starts hurting at every slightest touch and it’s beginning to frustrate you. 

“I’m telling you, this baby is going to be a little runner.” 

“Is she still kicking?” 

Your sister huffs before she laughs, “she is kicking all the time, sis.”

You smile as you take the telephone and walk towards your window, leaning against the wall as you wait for the Impala to pull up in your driveway. 

“I can’t wait to meet her. I never held a baby before.”

“Well, you’re about to – give it a few more weeks and you’ll turn into an auntie in no time.”

“I am already an auntie,” you chuckle. “How could you forget little Luna? She was your first child.” 

You remember how devastated you were when she took the black cat with her as she moved out of your parents house and left the town, for good. You begged her to leave the cat with you, put on your best puppy face but she wouldn’t have it, it was her cat, after all. 

“Right, sorry sorry.” She laughs. 

You hear rustling in the back and a moment later, a loud crunch sounds through the phone. You don’t have to ask to know what she’s eating. Chips. She is always eating salted chips, now even more so than before. 

“What are you doing today?” She asks with a mouthful. 

Looking down at your outfit, you place your palm on your new denim shorts before you slide your fingers into the pocket. 

“I’m going to a barbecue in a few,” you say. “Max basically forced me to come.”

“Wait, you’re not driving yourself, are you?”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as a huff falls from your lips. 

You’re not allowed to drive, not yet. Your vision gets blurry sometimes, and you get light headed very easily. Your doctor said that it would pass, but it’s been two weeks since you had been released from the hospital and it hasn’t passed yet. 

Jason truly did a number on you. 

“No, don’t worry. My friends would kill me if I even tried–”

“Don’t say that word,” she cuts you off with a stern voice. “But I agree with them.”

You snort. 

“Anyways, Eddie is picking me up.”

Silence follows for a good thirty seconds before she continues eating her chips. You can practically hear her thoughts, you already know what she’s about to say next. 

“Eddie. He was the cute one with the long hair, right?” She asks, innocently. “The one who brought you chocolate and magazines?” 

Rolling your eyes at her teasing voice, you push yourself away from the wall when you see the black Impala pulling up to your house. 

“Don’t even,” you sigh, scrunching up your face in annoyance. 

She has been waiting, waiting for years for you to finally have a crush on someone, to fall in love, go on dates and get a boyfriend. 

Though, unlike her, you weren’t exactly popular – maybe it was your own fault, but that’s beside the point. Your sister loved having crushes and going on dates. She loved falling in love. 

You? Not so much. 

Love has only brought you pain. 

And you never cared much for dating – not even for fun. You don’t mind being on your own, loving someone from afar and in secret, for probably the rest of your life. 

“What’s wrong with him? Isn’t he super sweet?” She asks. “He brought you chocolate, sat by your side and you seem to like him–”

“Yeah, as a friend.” 

“Oh,” she sighs, humming. “Yeah, you never liked the nice guys, did you?” 

She got you there. Well, kind of. He is nice. He is nice to everyone, but to you. 

“What about the other guy then? What was his name again… Steve?” 

Just the mention of his name has shivers running down your spine, your heart fluttering and your skin crawling in tingles. 

You feel your cheeks glowing but you roll your eyes at the stupid giddiness that you feel, everytime you think of him.

“Mhmm, Steve.” 

“Huh.” You could practically hear the smirk in her voice. “What about him?”

If she only knew. 

Eddie honks the car horn, giving you the perfect excuse to hang up the phone. You walk back to your dresser, putting the phone down. 

“Anyways, I love you, sis. But a very hungry Eddie is waiting for me in the driveway.”

You know that he is hungry, he is always hungry, always eating away all the snacks and stealing leftover fries from everyone’s plates, no matter how much he had eaten already.

“Have fun with uh Steve! Love you, mwah, bye!”

You roll your eyes once again as you hang up the phone. 

Steve and Fun in one sentence just doesn’t sound right. That guy would rather stay miserable for the rest of his life than even try to have fun with you. 

He can’t stand you. 

And well, you can’t stand him either. – At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself, all while knowing that it’s very much a lie, but how else would you stay sane?

You quickly make your way down the stairs, reaching for your keys and your sunglasses on the way out. You skip down the porch steps. You tap the hood of his car before you get into the passenger seat. 

Eddie is already grinning at you, waving his fingers at you. 

“Hey sexy.” 

His brows shoot up and a smirk tugs at his lips. He playfully eyes you up and down. 

You close the door and sit back, greeting him with a mocking smirk. 

“Hello to you too, sweets,” he says in a low and deep voice – one that almost has you laughing. 

“Oh, I wasn’t greeting you,” you say, nonchalantly. “I was talking to Arwen,” you gesture to his beloved, new car, that he of course named after a Lord of the rings character. 

“But, hi Eddie.”

A loud laugh leaves his lips, his brown eyes twinkle with amusement. He grabs the gearstick, shaking his head at you. 

“You ready for some heavy metal heaven?” 

You put on your sunglasses and fasten the seatbelt after he points at you with a stern look on his face. 

“Sure,” you snort, knowing that the drive to the Sinclair house will be anything but uneventful. When Eddie isn’t singing and bobbing his head to the music, he’s shouting over it, telling you a story that he can’t wait to get off his chest. 

Your friendship with him is something you didn’t see coming. You tried to push him away, knowing how your friendships with people you care about usually end, but he wouldn’t have it. He kept coming back, just like Robin, just like the teens. 

You don’t understand why. 

What’s there about you that they want you around so bad? 

You’re never in a happy mood, you’re never entertaining, you don’t bring anything into the friend group. You don’t get along with most people – by most people you only mean Steve Harrington. 

You wonder if it’s because you almost died and they’d feel guilty to exclude you after helping them or if Max forces them to accept you into a friend group you never even wanted to be part of. 

“How’s your head doing?” Eddie asks as he drives on Maple Street. 

“Good, s’not hurting anymore.” You lie. 

He knows. 

Eddie sees the way you react to bright lights, the way you scrunch up your nose a little whenever the sun shines into your eyes or the way you rest your hand against the nearest wall when you seem to get dizzy. 

“When’s your next check-up?” 

He sounds just as concerned as your sister does, it makes you laugh a little. 

Who would have thought that Eddie could be so caring? 

“Tomorrow, 3pm.”

“Want me to drive you?”

You shake your head, “no, it’s fine. I’ll take the bus.”

He scoffs, shooting you a glare as he pulls up into the driveway, parking his car behind the burgundy BMW. 

“You think I’ll let you take the bus? I’ll drive you and then we’ll get burgers.” 

You unbuckle your seatbelt, chuckling as you turn to him, “okay, dad.” 

“Shut up,” he grumbles at you with a glare. 

Laughing at the look on his face, you get out of the car and make your way over to the house. Eddie bumps his shoulder into yours, tilting his head down, he looks at your heart shaped sunglasses. 

“Where’d you get these?” He asks, pointing at them. 

“Macy’s, why? You want some too?” 

“What if I do?” He asks, ringing the doorbell. 

“Then we’ll get you some pink ones.” 

A smirk tugs at his lips, “hell yeah.” 

Robin opens the door with an excited smile on her face, grinning when she sees you. 

“Hi!” She beams at you. “Come on in.” She steps aside, lifting her arm as she waits for you both to step inside. 

You walk in first, and as you do, Robin pulls you into a hug, greeting you once more. 

“Hey,” you mumble as you slowly lift your arms to hug her back. 

Eddie chuckles at the confused frown on your face, he follows inside and closes the door. 

“C’mon, Steve is already bitching about you two being late.” 

And just like that, your heart jumps a little. You hate yourself a little in these moments. 

Pushing your sunglasses up on your head, you and Eddie follow her out into the garden. 

You can hear the music outside, laughter and Steve’s stern voice as he scolds Dustin, as always. The smell of smoke lingers in the air and as you step outside, you catch sight of Steve, standing behind the grill, with one hand on his hip and the other pointing at Dustin with the grill tong. 

His hair is messy, a spit curl falling before his eyes. He is wearing his black sunglasses, green khaki pants, a gray tank top,– oh god. This is going to be a long day. 

You swallow as you tear your eyes away from him, looking around with squinted eyes, the sun is harsh and you instantly put your sunglasses back on.

“Are the Sinclair’s around?” You ask, meaning Lucas’s and Erica’s parents. 

Robin shakes her head, “no, they’re out in Indianapolis until tomorrow, Steve is probably gonna stay the night.”

You nod. 

You hear your name being called and you turn to your right to see Lucas waving at you with a smile on his face. He is sitting on the lounger Max is laying on, still with casts on her leg and her arm. She pushes herself up on her elbows, looking in your direction, a smile appears on her face and she greets you just as kindly as her boyfriend did. 

Robin leaves your side, walking towards Dustin who plays with his new, portable Stereo. 

As you pass by Steve, he turns around to greet Eddie with a smile and you with nothing more than a nod and low grumble, “Blondie.” 

Whenever he seems moody or pissed off, you feel the urge to make it even worse. And you do, every single time. 

You walk around him and look at the meat on the grill, whining.

“I don’t eat meat.”

He turns to you, eyes growing wide at your words. He didn’t know. And he already feels guilty for not asking you first. He pushes his sunglasses up into his hair as an apologetic look crosses his face. 

“Fuck… I-I didn’t know–” he stops when he notices the smug look on your face and hears Eddie chuckle over his shoulder. 

He should’ve known. 

With a groan, he rolls his eyes and pushes his sunglasses back down as he turns back to the grill. 

“Hey Eddie!” Dustin calls out to him, already grinning at Steve. “Check this out!” 

“Don’t you dare, Dustin–” Robin gets cut off by a scream as it blasts from the stereo. She smacks him lightly on his head, yelling at him to turn it off. 

Eddie laughs loudly, leaving yours and Steve’s side. 

“Jesus christ,” Steve mumbles, scrunching his face up at the music. “That shrimp has been doing that all day. Eddie really is a bad influence.” 

“Aw, poor Steve,” you pout at him, “are you mad that you can’t listen to Madonna?” 

He scoffs at you, though he doesn’t say anything and focuses on the sizzling burgers as he turns them over. 

You press your lips together, ignoring the tugging in your chest or the feeling in your stomach as you use his distraction to look at him. 

It’s only nearing the end of April, but it already feels like the beginning of summer. Steve’s skin is already sun kissed. You hide your eyes behind your sunglasses as you ogle him. Taking in the sight of his veiny hands, his arms that have just the perfect amount of muscle, his chest hair that you always tease him for, the silver chain around his neck. 

You swallow. 

Cursing inwardly when you feel your stomach fluttering. 

He turns to face you again, totally catching you and your staring. 

Fuck. 

“Like what you see?” He smirks down at you. 

You bite the inside of your cheeks, trying not to blush under his gaze. 

He is feeling smug. Not because he likes you staring at him, but because he’s been waiting for a moment to embarrass you with something. 

He expects you to stutter, to step back and answer his question with a shaky and squeaky voice, because that is what he must be used to, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You take a step closer to him, biting your lip as you eye him up and down. 

You can tell that it catches him off guard a little, but unlike you, he isn’t blushing. 

“Yeah, actually,” you whisper and put your hand on his shoulder as you lean closer to the small table where he left his coke. You wrap your hand around the can, it’s cold against your palm and you hum in satisfaction as you raise it up to your lips, taking a sip of his drink. “Mmmh, perfect.” 

You turn around, and walk away without another word, leaving him huffing and glaring at you. 

You fail to notice or feel his eyes on you, the way they rake down your body, the way he licks his lips before he forces his eyes away from you. 

You greet Lucas and Max properly, hugging the latter before you take a seat on the lounger next to her, choosing the one that is half in the shadow, so you can hide your face from the sun. 

You easily fall into a conversation with the teens. You had always been close with Max, even before you were dragged into all of this. 

Being friends with her, also brought Lucas into your life. Unlike Dustin, who is always somehow trying to get on your nerves by teasing you with crushes that don’t exist or annoying you like a younger brother would do, Lucas is always very kind. 

“I can’t wait for you to get your car back.” 

Chuckling at Lucas’s words, you take off your sunglasses and put them down beside you. 

“Why’s that?” 

“So you can drive us around again,” he shrugs as he flashes you a smile. 

“Are Steve and Eddie not good enough for you?” You snort. 

Max scoffs loudly, rolling her eyes as she turns to you. 

“Steve is always whining about something!” 

“Yeah, and Eddie drives like a maniac,” Lucas groans, throwing his hands up. 

Max purses her lips, looking down at her cast. 

“Yeah, like your girlfriend,” you laugh, glancing at Lucas. “I wonder who will teach her how to drive properly.” 

“First of all, I don’t drive like a maniac,” says Max. “Second, why don’t you teach me how to drive?” 

You raise your brows at her, shaking your head, “sorry girl, but I am not a good teacher.” 

“But you’re like a big sister to me, you’re supposed to teach me,” she teases, though she looks at you with her best puppy eyes. “Besides, we can take Billy’s car.”

Shaking your head at her, you lay your head back and close your eyes, “don’t even try, Max. We’ll both end up in a ditch, we barely made it out last time.” 

She snorts at your words while Lucas looks between the two of you with disapproval on his face. 

“I’m starting to think that neither of you should ever drive again.” 

“I actually agree with you,” Robin chimes in as she joins the three of you. “I’ve heard of Max’s driving skills and uh… you lady,” she points at you, moving your legs to the side as she takes a seat on your lounder, “are danger in person.” 

“Me?” You gasp, putting your hand on your chest. 

“Yeah, you!” 

Steve watches you from afar, ignoring the heavy metal music and the curly heads behind him, who are going crazy over a song he just can’t find a liking to. 

He watches you – the way you crack a smile and shake your head with an amused look on your face. 

He watches you talk to the teens and to his best friend, easily falling into conversations. He rarely sees you like this – smiling and carefree. You’re usually always tense, annoyed and wearing a permanent frown on your face. Mostly around him. 

Steve will never know what it’s like to have a normal conversation with you, to see you smiling at him, not in a teasing way, in a real way. He is not sure if he ever even saw a real smile on your face – not even the one you are wearing now is real. 

But, why does he even care? You two have never gotten along, you hated each other, at first glance. 

With a sigh, he turns off the grill. He carries the tray filled with food over to where everyone is sitting, motioning for Eddie and Dustin to follow. 

Steve walks past you, not paying attention to how close he is to you, he accidentally bumps you in the head with the corner of the tray. He doesn’t even notice that he did – not until, you duck your head down and raise your hand to touch the side of your head. 

Max snaps her head up at him with a glare on her face. Lucas freezes when he sees how angry she is. 

He looks down at you, to see you looking up at him already. 

“I’m sorry..” He murmurs. 

You don’t speak, instead you look up at him with big eyes and a pained look on your face. 

“Oh come on, I barely even touched you,” he says, nervously. 

Eddie and Robin glance at each other, confused and worried. 

He rolls his eyes at you, knowing that this is another one of your little games that you always play, whenever you get bored. 

“Are you fucking with me again?”

Max shoots out of her seat, almost falling over due to the cast on her leg, her cheeks grow red in anger as her eyes burn into Steve. 

“Her head! You hit her head, you stupid idiot!” She points at him with rage in her voice. 

Steve’s eyes widen as deep guilt rushes through him, he instantly drops the tray on the table before he crouches down in front of you, shakily laying his palm on your shoulder as Max continues to curse at him. 

He wasn’t thinking. He didn’t think of that. 

“S-Shit,” he mumbles, looking at you apologetically. 

How could he forget? The doctor told you how sensitive you would be at every slightest touch to your head, how every slightest bump could cause nausea, dizziness or even a migraine. He was there, he heard him say it loud and clearly, yet he forgot.

Only now does he notice the hurt in your eyes as you place your palm over your ear – your ear that is ringing, for a moment it feels as though you’ve been pulled under water, and still you hear Max yelling at Steve. 

It’s not his fault, it was an accident. 

“Max! It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t do it on purpose! J-Just fuck…” You curse at the pain, not even recognizing your own voice for a moment. Who would’ve thought that you would be this sensitive? You feel his hand on your shoulder, maybe it eases the pain a little, or maybe it’s just the comfort that you feel from only his touch. 

“I-I’m gonna get you some ice,” Steve mumbles and rushes into the house, with Eddie following close behind. 

He throws his sunglasses on the counter and huffs in frustration as he tugs at his hair. He opens the freezer and gets an ice pack out. 

“Steve–”

“Fuck, Eddie. I didn’t know, I thought she was fucking with me again,” he stammers, wrapping the icepack into a cloth. “She always does this a-and I wasn’t thinking of the fucking injury.”

Steve is cursing at himself and at Jason who caused all of this, who did this to you. 

Eddie takes a step closer to him, placing his hand on his shoulder, trying to calm his friend down. 

“Steve,” he sighs but he won’t look at him. “You didn’t know, i-it’s just a migraine, nothing else–”

“Nothing else?” Steve scoffs, frowning at Eddie. 

How could this be nothing else? He caused you pain with the slightest touch, something that reminded you of what you had been through, only a few weeks back. And he might have just triggered even more than a migraine, he might have triggered some thoughts to come back that you tried to not think of. 

He rushes back out to you. 

When you see him, you are already reaching for the ice pack, waving your hand at him to give it to you but he pulls it back, not handing it to you. 

You huff in annoyance, looking at him in disbelief. 

Max is standing with a hand on her hip, extending her arm as well as she glares at him in annoyance. 

Lucas and Dustin glance at each other, like they are afraid to move or even say anything as they quietly eat their food. 

“Lego head, give me the ice pack–”

He startles you a little by sitting down right behind you, “where do I press?” He asks. 

You’re taken aback by his words and his action, you’re taken aback by his touch. 

“Huh?”

“Where do I press the ice pack?” He asks again, breathing down your neck. 

You glance up at Max, she raises her eyebrows at you. Normally, she is the one who helps you, sometimes it’s Eddie or Robin, but Steve? Steve never helped you. 

She eyes Steve and the look in his eyes, the guilt and the pain from hurting someone when normally, he tries to do everything in his power to protect people, even the ones that he doesn’t like. 

With a sigh, she slowly sits down. 

Despite the pain that is pulsating in your head, you feel shivers running down your spine when Steve moves your hair to the side, his fingertips grazing your skin. 

“Where?”

“I uh–... here,” you mumble, quietly as you point to the spot where it hurts the most. 

“Okay,” he whispers and scoots even closer to you, he presses the ice pack against the back of your head. 

You sigh and relax a little, closing your eyes as you welcome the coldness. 

Your heart flutters in your chest when he presses his free hand on your shoulder, touching you gently. 

“Max, you should eat something,” Robin says, trying to smile at the angry teen. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna heal faster if you eat a burger,” Eddie grins, trying to ease the tension as he hands her the plate. 

“A burger will help me heal, really?” She scrunches her face up but grabs the plate, nonetheless. 

“Yeah, actually. It’ll give you some of the strength back,” Dustin winks at her before he takes a bite of his burger. 

She snorts, shaking her head at them. 

You listen to your friends chatter as you keep your eyes closed. Tilting your head to the side, you lean back slightly, – wishing you could just lean into him. You can sense how tense he is, you are almost certain that you can hear his thoughts, how he is cursing at himself for this, for hurting someone – even if it’s just you. 

“Stop stressing about it, Harrington. It’s nothing,” you sigh, trying to ease some of his tension. 

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head, “You and Eddie, I swear if you keep saying this is nothing..” He huffs in frustration. 

Not only does he hate all of this – he also hates the feeling of your soft skin beneath his touch, the smell of your perfume, the smell of your body wash that he is close enough to smell – and fuck, does it smell good, good enough to make his stomach feel all weird again. 

You try to chuckle, though he can tell that it’s pained. 

“What, you worried about me, Lego head? Thought I didn’t affect your life at all?” You ask smugly, as though it’s a joke to you. 

Your words feel like a punch to his gut, even though he was the one who said these words to you, it hurts for some reason, because maybe, these words aren’t true in the slightest. 

You might not be someone important to him, you might not be special to him. 

Yet it doesn’t change the feeling he had felt in his gut when he found out that you were on the brink of death, that night. When he saw you in the hospital room hours after your surgery, how lost and empty he had felt when he saw the state you were in. How he sat beside you for hours before the nurses finally kicked him out and told him to go home and rest. 

He clenches his jaw.

“Yes, I’m worried,” he huffs. “So shut up because you will make it worse, Blondie.” He says with full expectation to hear some smartass comment back from you. 

But you stay quiet, fully quiet. 

You open your eyes and you look down at your hands in sadness. 

You wish he didn’t say that to you. You wish he kept the hate comments instead, that he left you with the idea of hating you completely, not showing an ounce of worry towards you. Because this is ruining you. The act of kindness is completely destroying you, and he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t feel it either. 

You really are hopeless. 

>> next chapter

[rinneverse]

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — honkai star rail hcs ˒ ⊹

— synopsis: random hc’s about the ways the hsr men love you.

— characters: dan heng, blade, jing yuan, && gepard.

— warnings: lots of emotions and love and sappy words!!, f!reader, praise, pet names (baby, good girl), p in v penetration, mating press (blade). very soft and fluffy, i think. :-)

— notes: i did not mean to disappear for like 3 months LMFAOOOO ,, but hi! i’m back and the honkai star rail brainrot is STRONG. i hope i did them justice !!

MINORS DNI - 18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT.

✧˚ · . 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆. ༉‧₊˚.**

→ dan heng is cautious, at first, when it comes to the relationship budding between the two of you. he’s deeply afraid of hurting you, losing you, driving you away.

→ he’s afraid of the intensity in which he loves you—a fire that consumes his very being. his every thought is plagued with you, and it’s something that scares him. but he wants to brave it. for you.

→ your smile, the tilt of your head, the way you carry yourself; he finds himself falling for you harder every day. like he’s been thrown off of a cliff, left to freefall, but the ground is nowhere to be seen.

→ and when he finally gets his hands on you, it’s like a supernova in his chest, an explosion spreading stardust across the whole galaxy. it’s ridiculous, really, how it’s like a giant weight has been lifted off of his shoulders as he holds you in his arms, his lips melding against yours. it’s perfect; two pieces of a puzzle slotting perfectly together.

→ and when he takes you for the first time, in the comfort of your silken sheets, hands intertwined with yours, he finds himself complete—like he doesn’t have to run anymore.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

“baby,” dan heng groans into the crook of your neck. his hips stutter a little as he bottoms out, and the feeling of your heat surrounding him sends a violent shiver down his spine. you lay there below him, staring up at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes, and dan heng thinks to himself that he’s never seen anything more ethereal.

“heng,” you sigh, legs wrapping around his lean waist. “you feel so good.”

he can feel his heart hammering in his ribcage, pressing impossibly closer to you as you whisper sweet praises in his ear. he needs you. he needs all of you, and in return, he’ll give you all of him.

when he pulls out, the drag of his heavy cock against your walls has you keening, breath hitching in your throat as just the blunt head is left—and then he’s slamming back in, and you feel like you’re falling, head light and spinning with pleasure as dan heng sets a steady pace.

“please, please, please,” you plead with a sob of his name. dan heng can feel his cock throb with desire at the sound of his name falling from your lips.

“again,” he grunts, rolling his hips so deliciously that it has your lips parting in a silent moan. “say my name again.”

“dan—dan heng!”

he slips a hand between your sweaty bodies, quickly seeking out your aching clit. the moment he’s touching you there, your back is arching and you think that you’re seeing stars behind your eyelids. you cum with another cry of his name and that sends him right along with you, hastily jerking his hips away as his cum spurts all over your navel.

and as he lays there with you, coming down from his high, he thinks that he’s finally found a place he can call home.

✧˚ · . 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄. ༉‧₊˚.

→ it’s not often you draw verbal affirmations of love from blade. in fact, it’s scarce, and something you’ve come to terms with. rarely do you ever hear the man utter the words, ‘i love you.’

→ instead, you’ve learned to read between the lines with him—the gentle way in which he treats you, the softening of his gaze as it lands on you, the way he protects you with every ounce of his being.

→ blade is not a man who speaks reverent poems, love songs, or otherwise to you. he shows his love through his actions, through his subtle body language, and especially through the way he worships your body. not one inch is left untouched by him, and you are left trembling and dizzy and full of the love that drifts unsaid between the two of you.

→ even as he ravages your body on those rougher nights, you still feel the adoration that overflows from him, in the way he leaves a blazing trail of kisses down the length of your spine, grunts and groans spilling from his lips as he pulls you ever closer.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

“blade, wait— please, s’too much,” you sob as blade pistons into you mercilessly. he’s got you folded in half, his mouth hot on the sensitive flesh of your neck as he bites—ripping a sob from deep in your chest.

he doesn’t respond, even as your hands tug at the silky length of his hair—pulling a guttural groan from him. and as he lifts his head to look down at you, tears streaking down your cheeks and drool forming at the corner of your lips; something animalistic, something feral glints in his eyes.

“oh, fuck. you like this, yeah? you like when i use you like this? you’re clenching so good around me. takin’ me so good.” he’s breathless as he speaks, lips swooping down to capture yours in a heated kiss. he’s right—you’re clenching so tightly around him, toes curling as he hits just the right spot inside of you.

you’re floating, weightless and utterly exhausted by the time he’s done with you. blade lays beside you, an arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you take a minute to catch your breath.

“… stay here. i’ll be right back.”

you suppress a laugh as blade rolls out of your bed—as if you were going to move anywhere anytime soon. after a few moments of silence, you hear the bathtub faucet start running. a warm feeling blossoms in your chest as blade returns.

he doesn’t say anything as he scoops you up in his arms. you sluggishly throw your arms around him and plant a wet kiss on his cheek.

“love you, bladie. ♡”

✧˚ · . 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍. ༉‧₊˚.

→ jing yuan is confident. sly. a renowned general of the cloud knights.

→ so why is it that he’s reduced to a fumbling mess around you? he doesn’t understand. it’s something he struggles to wrap his head around—how one second, he’s thinking of all the ways he’d like to woo you, and the next, he’s flushing, stuttering dumbly as you stare up at him with those damned eyes of yours.

→ maybe that was it. the way your eyes seem to pierce through the essence of his very being; if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you one of fu xuan’s assistants in the divination commission. but he does know better, and it’s something that he’s grateful for—he’s not sure how you would view him had you been under fu xuan’s influence. maybe as a scoundrel, since she’s so insistent on viewing him as one.

→ but enough of that. he’s sick of the way he seems to lose all his swagger around you, so one day he sucks it up, puts his big boy general pants on, and asks you out on a dinner date. the way you tilt your head at him has his heart seizing in his chest—until you laugh so gently, a smile gracing your lips as you nod your head.

→ a melodic sound: that’s what your laugh was to him. he’d like to hear that over and over and over again. perhaps he’d like to draw other melodies out of you, play you like an instrument—but for now, he’s content with this.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

there’s electricity in the air, a tension on the verge of snapping as jing yuan guides you to your bed. hickeys litter the vast expanse of your neck and collar, something that makes his chest swell with pride. with desire.

he’s the one doing this to you—the one causing that foggy daze in your eyes as you look at him with such adoration, pupils blown wide. he can feel the lust in your gaze; he’s returning it tenfold with his own golden ones. he grins down at you.

“baby,” he says. “spread your legs for me. there you go—good girl.”

he hums, pleased, as you listen obediently. he flips up the fabric of your skirt, pausing at the sight of the lacy white panties you wore. his tongue flicks out to wet his lips.

oh, he was going to devour you. whole.

you thread a hand through his soft hair as he lowers himself to the apex of your thighs, breath ghosting over the most sensitive part of you—you’re so worked up that even the fabric in between barely does anything to separate you from him.

“sweetheart,” jing yuan speaks lowly. his voice is a deep rumble, and your thighs would’ve clenched together if it weren’t for his strong hands holding you open.

“i want to absolutely ruin you.”

✧˚ · . 𝐆𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃. ༉‧₊˚.

→ gepard’s large stature is juxtaposed by the gentle way he treats you. as if you were fragile glass, or perhaps a beautiful statue made of ice, his every touch is.. not quite hesitant, but calculated, made to only treat you with reverence. he worships you, your very soul, everything that you are. he adores you.

→ he is a protector at his core. he would do anything for you. he is always sure to take care of you before himself - your pleasure comes first. in fact, he thinks that he gets off when he makes you feel good. it makes his chest swell with pride and his cock twitch with desire.

→ often, he’s occupied on the frontlines, protecting belobog with all of his might. that just makes the time spent together with you even more precious. it’s not something he takes for granted—whatever time you get together, you best believe all of his attention is on you.

→ he’s treating you to a candlelit dinner, buying you flowers, taking you shopping, the whole package. he’s got a captain’s salary, after all—and he’s using it all to spoil you. he buys you promise rings and a necklace with his initial on it, pretty earrings and bracelets and other trinkets to remind you of him when he’s away. he leaves you his clothes, sprayed with his cologne, when he knows he’ll be gone for longer than he wants to be.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

“gepard,” you say gently, running a hand through his hair as he holds your hips tight. you straddle him, plush thighs pressed against his stronger ones as he ruts up against you. “slow down, baby, we have time..”

time. time was something that was becoming increasingly more scarce—more precious. he’d like to spend all his time with you, but duty calls; and so he treats this time he can spend with you as sacred, and he’d like to not waste a single second.

“i know, i know,” he says, voice strained with want. “it’s been so long. i need you.”

you’re not used to gepard being so forward like this—but it wasn’t something you were particularly against, either; the way he guides your hips down against his cock has a soft moan bubbling up in your throat.

“let me show you how much i love you.” he says, running strong hands along your sides. it sends a shiver up your spine, your heart hammering in your chest as he pulls you close.

you nod your head, heart full with adoration and want and everything that is gepard. “please.”

and he does, undressing you carefully and unravelling you at the core. and when he deems you ready, he’s sliding his heavy cock along your folds, drawing a whine from your throat. he only smiles as you desperately rut your hips to no avail, held down by his large hands.

he doesn’t tease for long, though—he never does, not when he values your pleasure above everything else. you let out a sob of relief as you feel him slowly slide in, cunt spasming around his thick girth as he inches in slowly. he’s always so careful with you—knows that he’s bigger than average, so he has to take his time. he doesn’t mind; never once has.

he holds you close as he makes love to you, bodies melding together perfectly. if the warmth and love between you two was something physical, he thinks that it could melt the eternal freeze that plagues belobog.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Hey hey!! I hope you're doing well! I was wondering if you could do a fic based on the song "Kisses Of Fire" by Abba just like the reader in total love-sick bliss and knowing like Luke is the man he's him lolol

𝒦𝒾𝓈𝓈ℯ𝓈 ℴ𝒻 𝒻𝒾𝓇ℯ

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

A/n- I adore you for this anon. I love abba

Warnings- brief make out sessions, puppy love, foreshadowing his betrayal, pre!tlt Luke, their loves bordering on obsession but they genuinely still love each other if that makes sense

Lay your head on my chest so you hear every beat of my heart, now there’s nothing that can keep us apart

He held you closely, your head laying on his chest as you listened to his heartbeat. You both were sprawled out on the small, creaky bed, you both entwined.

You had a hand running through his curls as he stared up, his mind at ease for once in his chaotic life. You stared at him with the most adoration and love anyone could ever feel. A soft smile across your face.

He wanted to stay like this forever, he wanted to be buried like this.

Touch my lips, close your eyes and see with your fingertips

Your first kiss with Luke was like a dream. An awkward, but amazing dream.

It was quiet, nothing could be heard but the waves crashing against the cliffs next to you both. You laid staring at the night sky with him, and that moment felt more intimate than any other.

You both were staring at the same sky, the same stars and the same moon. Fate written in it, your names tangled in it.

He glanced at you and you glanced back, glancing turned into staring. Staring turned into his softly grabbing your face, whispering sweet nothings, telling you how he’s loved you for a while now, his whole life really.

You lean in, capturing your lips in his. Heads tilted and eyes closed, you leaned into his touch, his lips soft with strawberry lip balm from earlier.

Things that you do, and you know I'm crazy 'bout you

Your obsession with Luke got worse when you started dating him. You were friends before, of course you knew a lot about him. But you learned about him even more after, his secrets, his goals, his life, his dreams, his trauma and past.

You loved every single thing he did. The way he was with new, younger campers and the way he handled a sword.

Everyone around camp could tell you were infatuated, even crazy in love with him. And he loved that, he loved you.

Kisses of fire, burning, burning. I'm at the point of no returning

You sat on his bed, you were on his lap as you held his face in your hands, his hands on your waist.

He loved the taste of your lips, he let out a low moan as you slid your tongue into his mouth. He began to pay you down onto the bed, your back against it. A knock at the door interrupted the both of you. He just left your lips and looked at the door, it was Chris.

“Hey, what’s up?” Luke nodded, not bothering to get off of you.

Chris snickered, eyes going to you and back to Luke, he shut the cabin door behind him. “Just tryna get some sleep. Carry on. Don’t let me bother you.” He went to his bed, directly on top of Luke’s, a smirk on his face.

You looked back at Luke who just shrugged, and his lips were back on yours quickly, as he laid on top of you now, body on yours.

You wanted to never turn back, you wanted to stay with him.

Kisses of fire, sweet devotions. Caught in a landslide of emotions

His kisses were full of love, passion, they were intense.

His kisses were a show of love to you, his loyalty. He took it as a special thing.

You felt the happiest with him. When you were simply around him, or when you were kissing him. You felt overwhelmed by your own love and emotions when you kissed him. You felt fear of losing him.

I've had my share of love affairs and they were nothing compared to this.

You’ve been heartbroken by many, and the first person you went to was Luke. Every single time.

When you were growing up, 13 and your first boyfriend had broken up with you, Luke was there for you. He tried to comfort you to the best of his abilities.

Even when you were 18, going through the roughest break up. He thought you were the most gorgeous person in the world, he couldn’t comprehend why anyone would break up with you.

That’s when you got with him, when you realized you didn’t want to get with anyone else, you always had wanted him.

Every time he wished that you would realize it, that you would break up for those stupid guys for him.

And you were only happy when you were with him, the best you’ve ever been. Others noticed it too. You could love him in public, you could do things with him that your other boyfriends wouldn’t have even thought of doing with you.

He was better, in every situation, than your ex boyfriends.

Oh, I'm riding higher than the sky and there is fire in every kiss. Kisses of fire

Every kiss has fueled the fire in your heart, your love for him growing every time.

It was passion, a fiery and intense passion and love for you. He knew that, the thought of it scared him.

When you sleep by my side I feel safe and I know I belong. Still it's making me scared that my love is so strong.

His chest moving up and down, an arm wrapped around you tightly. Your hands tangled in his curls and the other on his body.

With his arms wrapped around you, you felt like nothing could hurt you. Not a Minotaur or echidna, no monster could come close. You belonged in his arms, with him, you thought as you stared at him. Even sleeping, he looked gorgeous.

You felt this anxiety at the bottom of your stomach. It creeps up. You’ve felt this before, it was fear.

You were terrified at the thought of losing him. You loved him, strongly, more than anything else.

It scared you, the thought of him betraying you or hurting you was always in the back of your mind. He could break your heart, give you broken heart syndrome, leave you to die alone.

Losing you It's a nightmare, babe, and to me it's new. Never before did you see me begging for more.

You never wanted to lose him. That you were sure of. You’ve never felt this intensely about a boy, it was strange, a foreign feeling.

Love was a foreign feeling. You’ve had boyfriends sure, but have you ever been in love with them as intensely? No.

You would do anything if it meant to keep him with you, in life or death, you would be with him.

[sanarkeo]

they can’t love you like i love you

nayeon wants to show her girl off to the world.

alternatively: look at you getting fucked by someone you barely know on your first date!! nayeon x reader smut - exhibitionism - humiliation - dom!nayeon w sub!reader - idol!nayeon w idol!reader - power dynamics? unnie kink sorry lol... 4+k words long for some reason

-

it all started at music bank a week into your group’s promotions for the new title track, when your manager entered the waiting room and yelled out that she had a surprise for all of you. you looked up from your phone just as the hairstylist had fixed your bangs and shot an intrigued look over to your closest friend in the group. she raised her eyebrows at you and mouthed: “twice?”

you knew then that it was all over for you.

even being at the music program today, occupying the same building as them brought you a rush you’d only felt going up on a stage and seeing a thousand fans gush over you. you were finally going to be able to meet them, actually meet them. not smile and wave from afar. you could finally talk about how much they’d inspired you, even take a picture with them. but you’d be lying to yourself if you said your heart wasn’t in full on palpitation mode thinking about finally seeing your favorite girl face to face like this.

you’d even set her as your lockscreen for god’s sake. but maybe then the rumors were true and her face does bring good luck or whatever. embarrassed just wondering what’d happen if she ever saw it, you shoved it into the shallow pocket of the tightest mini skirt the stylists could’ve fit you into and left the room with your members.

the meeting with twice was brief and took place in the most random of kbs corridors. most of what you’d remembered of it was tripping over your words, bowing a bit too much and too fervently, and staring at how gorgeous they looked in person. seeing them in concert was nothing like this.

“congratulations on your new song!” sana shrieked, pulling your leader into a hug and beaming at the rest of you. “ah, i love seeing juniors with so much passion!”

they took turns wishing your group the best and exchanging some encouraging words. you were avoiding eye contact with one of the girls in fear you’d combust, but felt her gaze lay heavily on you. The way im nayeon stared you down stirred something in your stomach and made your fingertips tremble against the copies of signed albums.

Unlike jihyo or dahyun, she barely said a word beyond the niceties. Which was odd, because nayeon was nayeon. Her expression was fixed and ambiguous, and you swore at yourself for giving into looking her up and down. She was wearing that outfit from the concept photos. the one with that fucking jacket and the tube top and that skirt. nayeon had her gloved hands on her hips and you had to tear your eyes away, afraid of letting your stare wander too much.

when your manager signalled for the group to get to rehearsals, you hurried to bow once more with your members and hastily presented the signed albums to twice. when you gave a copy to nayeon, she accepted it with both hands and a closed smile.

“thank you, y/n-ah~”

you turned on your heels and ran back to the waiting room to get ready. your members teased you for how pink your face had turned even with all your makeup on.

-

when filming was done, your body felt the pressure of the late nights and intense practices come crashing through. you were just glad you’d be able to get a full night’s sleep. stepping into the waiting room ready to change back into your clothes, the sight of your manager glowering at you made you wince.

“how many times do you have to lose your phone? you know, twice’s manager had to come all the way here to hand it to me.”

she sighed and handed you your phone, now with long, deep cracks sustained from a corner - it must’ve fallen out of your pocket while you were running.

you and half your members got into a van to get back to the dorms. as soon as you settled into your seat and got comfortable though, they started to take sneaky glances at each other and giggled.

“i used to think you liked nayeon-sunbaenim too much but i think she actually likes you back,” one of them teased.

“oh my god, did you see how she was looking at you?”

“or maybe she hates you somehow? either way, even i began blushing…”

“-please, please, please guys i think she was just like ill or something.” you were tired, sure, but the annoyance also had something to do with wanting to never think about the stray possibility of her liking you at all. you turned on your phone to send a text to a friend when you saw it. just as you were going to attach some pictures, you were greeted with a flood of selfies of nayeon.

you first raised an eyebrow at your members who were also busy on their phones, as if they played some lame prank on you. but you soon realised that you’d never seen those nayeon selfies before (you were surprisingly on top of twice content for someone who clocked an average of 4 hours of sleep), and that those selfies looked really fucking recent. taken today, recent.

there she was, standing in front of a bathroom mirror, your phone looking small in her hand, a thumb slipped under the waistband, pulling it ever so slightly down. as soon as you saw it, you dropped your phone onto your lap and took a deep breath. nayeon found your phone, nayeon took your phone, nayeon saw your lockscreen and nayeon used your phone to take insanely hot mirror selfies in the kbs bathroom.

all the other images you flicked through were just slight variations of the first, till you landed on a short video. playing it, you saw nayeon moving your phone back and forth from the mirror as she cycled through an array of poses, mouthing… something?

one of your favorite things about im nayeon was how she could sing like an absolute angel, light and airy, while having this depth and hoarseness in her speech. you pressed the speaker against your ear and upped the volume ever so slightly. the sound of her voice, nearly whispering, soft and sultry, forced a sigh out of you. you’d thought she was just spewing random numbers, which you would’ve accepted anyway, but then it hit you.

it was her number.

-

you [9:01 pm]

hello?

nayeon [9:05 pm]

what took you so long?

-

before your first date, all she’d given you was a date, a time, and an instruction: wait for me outside your building. the surprise in it made your breath hitch as you stepped out the front door to your dorm. the fact that you kept it a secret from your members and managers gave it the mildest sense of danger you craved after years of obedience. when you got down to the entrance, you saw nayeon leaned against her coupe in an off the shoulder midi and heels.

“you got down here a lil early… you this eager for our date?”

in an instant, your cheeks flushed red. first, because in the 3 weeks you’d been texting each other, you must’ve forgotten how beautiful she looked in person. then, because you looked down at yourself and realized how underdressed you were. nayeon clocked this, and you didn’t notice how she tried her best to resist smirking.

“sorry, umm… i didn’t know we were going somewhere fancy…”

it didn’t click that maybe she’d left that bit out intentionally.

“don’t worry babe, a pretty face like yours doesn’t need a flashy dress to make an impression.”

she opened the door for you then got into the driver’s seat. all the way to the restaurant, you held in the urge to ask her to keep her eyes on the road. it was surreal. being in im nayeon’s car and her driving you to your first date at a restaurant you could hardly afford on your rookie checks. her looking into your eyes, staring at your body like she’d eat you whole.

you’d admit you felt uncomfortably warm as she cursed out other drivers. you’d admit you leaked through your underwear when she gripped your bare thigh with her left hand and drew lines with her thumb. you felt her grip loosen and her fingers trace your thigh higher and higher until she pulled it back to hold the wheel.

“ahh! we’re just around the corner. i hope you like french food?”

-

you had a curfew, you had dozens of unanswered texts and yet you were tipsy in im nayeon’s apartment. putting down your glass of wine on her coffee table, you looked over at her floor-to-ceiling windows - a view of the han river at midnight framed perfectly - and shook your head at your stupidity.

your leader might kill you. your company could set your contract on fire.

then, you turned and saw nayeon there, bathed in yellow light, head propped against her hand, biting her bottom lip.

“thank you for tonight,” she said and set her glass down to take your hand and stroke the back of it gently with her thumb.

your leader was going to kill you. your contract was up in flames. whatever.

throughout dinner, all that initial embarrassment of feeling out of place in a dimly lit restaurant full of finely plated dishes and women decked out in jewelry, died down and was replaced by a heat that grew up your neck and between your legs. nayeon made you feel like you were the only girl in the room. like you were worthy of everything. like you were beautiful and good. you tried to play it cool but when she got the bill and asked you if you wanted to come over to her place, you’d never felt more easy in your life.

so there you were, the wine’s acidity coating your tongue, your throat dry, just craving her lips that were parted slightly, right in front of you.

“why did you give me your number?” you asked.

“because.”

nayeon licked her lips and you wondered how desperate you looked at that moment.

“and… and why did you take all those pictures?”

as brazen as nayeon was, you still caught her sheepish smile when it appeared for the briefest moment.

“i knew i had to have you from the moment i laid eyes on you.”

you didn’t know then how long she’d actually kept tabs on you for. she scooted closer and intertwined her fingers in yours, never once breaking eye contact. the smell of bergamot and citrus was intoxicating.

“and it worked didn’t it, babe?”

you hummed in agreement and tore your gaze away from her. but your sight landed on her cleavage and you turned dumb. at once, nayeon lifted up your chin and chuckled, just knowing how much you wanted her.

“texting me straight away like a good girl?"

“i had to.”

nayeon exhaled, closed her eyes and moved her hands to your hips.

“such a good girl for me.”

she kissed you and you never realized how soft lips could be. you laid your arms on her shoulders as she slid her tongue between your teeth, then sucked on your bottom lip till it was sore. when you shifted, you felt how wet you were getting just fantasizing about what that tongue could do to you.

when she pulled away, you saw the desire set deep in her eyes. she tilted her head and sunk her teeth onto your neck. she sucked and licked on your sensitive skin, and you didn’t notice how her hands got under your blouse. you were so sure she’d leave hickeys (and what will you even tell your makeup artists tomorrow?), but the way nayeon’s fingertips traced the curves of your waist left goosebumps on your thighs.

“i-i don’t think i should stay overnight though,” you whined, helping nayeon take off your blouse. “i’m already in so much trouble unnie.”

her bunny-toothed grin appeared as soon as you said that last word and she hurried to get your bra off. “don’t worry, unnie will take care of you.” she tossed your bra aside and steadied her breath staring at your tits. “fuck,” she breathed. “i wish all of seoul could see them.”

she played with your nipples for a while before wrapping her lips around one of them. you threw your head back and moaned, feeling her tongue flick at it and encircle it. she planted kisses across your chest making her way to your other breast and slipped her hands beneath the band of your skirt. you resisted the urge to just spread your legs wide open for her when she pulled it down. you never felt more like a slut than then.

after you kicked the skirt to the side, nayeon kissed you and you whimpered into her mouth. “can i taste you?” she asked, and you nodded and ogled at how the pinkness of her full cheeks spread to her nose.

you squirmed in your seat as you watched her carelessly push back her coffee table and get on her knees. it was mesmerizing seeing her fix her bangs the same way she’d always done when you watched her vlogs or interviews, except this time it was in person, and this time, she’d done it before forcefully dragging you closer to the edge of the sofa.

“fuck…” she groaned. ever since she saw you in that mini skirt, she’d been touching herself to the thought of taking it off of you. now you were in front of her, legs inching apart somewhat unconsciously, she was going to have you. all of you. with your underwear still on, she pressed your thighs further back and took a second to admire the sight of you.

“you’re so wet.” nayeon smirked and dragged her tongue from the bottom of your slit to your clit, the friction from the fabric driving you insane. “so wet for me.” she nearly tore your panties forcing it off of you.

she parted your pussy lips with her long fingers and lapped at your cunt with broad strokes. you writhed and wriggled, sobbing at the way her thick tongue moved onto brushing back and forth over your clit.

“nay-nayeon unnie…”

you bit your lip and looked down, catching her gazing up at you like she was going to devour you. you moaned with each shape she drew with the tip of her tongue.

“my little slut got wet even on the drive over to the restaurant right?”

her tongue teased at your hole, dripping with juices, then sunk into it. you tried moving your hips, grinding against her face to get more of it in, wanting so badly to be filled with her warmth.

“mmh…”

“what a slut,” she muttered, pulling away.

nayeon stood up and ordered you to do the same. she grabbed you by the wrist and yanked you to the window. instinctively, you tried to cover yourself up with your hands and angled your body to the side, nervous at who in those officetels and apartments across the river could’ve seen you.

“no, no,” she said in a low voice, getting behind you and taking your hands in hers, exposing you to the skyline of east seoul. you knew the odds were tiny, but reddened uncontrollably at the thought of some stranger being able to watch. your reputation could’ve been wiped just like that. everyone could’ve found out how much of a slut you were for nayeon. yet, she gently pushed your shoulders down and you obediently took that as a cue to kneel.

“what if someone sees?”

nayeon sighed and sat down, her thighs holding you in place, her clothed chest pressed against your bare back. “you’ll put on a show for them then,” she whispered, and gestured for you to sit down. “you’re good at that aren’t you?”

she forced your legs open, but you tried resisting even to come across faintly as having some sense of dignity. digging her nails into your skin, nayeon spread your legs wide open and you instantly felt the cold air on your pussy again. looking down at all those tiny cars stuck in traffic, at all the red and yellow lights of the city, you shuddered but gulped your doubts straight down. as one of her hands slid down your chest to your abs and finally to your needy pussy, the other groped your breast and rubbed your nipple between a finger and a thumb.

you couldn’t get over how warm and smooth her touch was. she rested her chin on your shoulder and you felt her lips hover behind your ear. “baby, i want the whole world to see you get fucked.”

the moment her fingers skimmed over your clit, you jerked your head back, resting it on her shoulder, and whined. she giggled right in your ear and you felt a wave of tingles run down the small of your back. the image of her eating you out was still burned into your mind.

this was the first time you thought that maybe she just liked to torture you, enjoyed the tension in your thighs as you tried your best to keep them apart. not squeeze them together to get a little more pleasure like a bitch in heat. no, you had more patience than that. just enough to to be able to feel the rise and fall of her chest on your back and not collapse to her feet, pleading to be fucked.

with her index and middle fingers, she slowly parted your folds and you heard the subtle sound of her smacking her lips. “such a pretty pink pussy. i can’t wait to ruin you. can’t wait to hear you beg and cry.” nayeon smacked your cunt and removed a hand from your tits to squeeze your cheeks as you winced in pain. “what do you want? say it.”

“i want you…”

she spanked your pussy again.

“you want unnie to what?”

“i want you use my holes and fuck me like i’m your fuck toy!”

just like that, the pent up horniness from nights wasted fingering yourself senseless to imagined scenarios with her spilled right out. you couldn’t tell how badly that sent her on a power trip, but you had somewhat of an idea. because nayeon dragged her fingers up and down your pussy like it was fucking nothing at all then shoved them so far down your mouth you felt them at the back of your throat.

“suck it,” she ordered.

you obeyed her and wrapped your tongue around the salty slickness of her fingers. you bobbed your head up and down, coating their entire length in your spit. all you could think about was them ripping you open. how she so easily held your tits in the palm of her hand. how much more they would stretch your pussy out than your own fingers.

she pulled them out of your greedy mouth and deftly brought them to your entrance. her fingertips dipped in and out like she was testing you, and the frustration nearly made you break free from her hold.

“please, please, please agh… please fuck me, please!”

she kissed your cheek and held your throat in her free hand. “if you say so,” she quipped, and thrust two of her fingers deep into your hole. she plunged into you fast and hard, you were just dumbstruck at how much they filled you up. she curled her fingers to hit your walls at an angle that made you see stars. your breathing grew ragged as she picked up the pace. nayeon’s grip on your throat tightened and you felt yourself reaching a point where you were so blissed out you would’ve done anything to keep her fucking you at that tempo.

“f-fuck me, fuck oh fuck, please i need you, i need more of you-”

without another word, she forced another finger into you and grunted at how tight you felt, clenched around them. “oh my god, you’re so tight for me,” she sneered, the thought of you feeling so vulnerable and small in her hands made her feel ecstatic. at that point, your brain was mush, and every word that left your tongue was some form of: please, fuck, more, or deeper.

“what was that? d’you want me to slow down honey?” she taunted, and drew her fingers back ever so leisurely. the pressure that was building down in you dissipated and you couldn’t help but grasp at her forearm.

“no- no i was gonna- nayeon… fuck!” you felt tears form and the corners of your eyes. how miserable you must’ve looked to anyone who might’ve peered into the window to see you just there, grinding and fucking onto her unmoving hand until it disappeared. her other hand still on your throat, she shoved you down so you were on all fours.

“you can’t cum now, no, not just yet,” she near growled in your ear. she pushed you around and shifted till your ass was up and facing out onto the skyline. it hadn’t crossed your mind until that night how thrilling it was being treated like a piece of meat in nayeon’s hands. your knees and arms yelped at the cold hard marble tiles, but your belly was hot against the silkyness of her thighs.

then, a hard spank landed on your ass cheek. you shrieked but why were you sticking your ass out even more after that? nayeon massaged your ass and rubbed down to the back of your upper thigh.

“i feel so sorry for giving such a good girl such a bad punishment, but i couldn’t stop myself…” she slapped your ass harder this time and you felt the heat and the pinkness form on your skin. “should i? should i stop?”

you shook your head.

“spank me and fuck me until i’m sore,” you sniffled and rested your cheek on the ground.

nayeon shoved all three fingers back into your sopping wet cunt and pistoned them in and out. the only times she’d ever paused for second were to land a slap on your ass. it stung like hell and each subsequent smack made your clit that bit more sensitive to the accidental brushes of her knuckles.

with every pump deeper into you, nayeon felt your walls squeeze tighter and tighter around her fingers. her arms grew tired and yet she just went faster, knowing how close you were getting.

“cum for me baby, cum for unnie.”

as another smack landed on you, the searing pain combined with the overwhelming pleasure was almost too much to handle. your breath hitched and you clawed at the tiles, nayeon’s pace becoming so unforgiving that you just had to-

“fuck- oh fuck! i’m gonna-”

nayeon nearly came to the sound of your scream. you came so hard you felt like your eyes had rolled back into your skull. speechless, shaking, shivering, even when you felt so overstimulated just having her still fingers inside of you, you could only swipe at her arm. feeling liquid stream down your thigh, you whimpered.

when nayeon pulled your exposed form into her arms, you were enveloped in her warmth and her scent. wordlessly, she rubbed your back and planted tender kisses on your shoulder, up to your jawline and onto your lips.

“i like you,” she confessed. and though it sounded so simple and so light, it gave you butterflies.

she cleared her throat and picked you up. you were initially surprised at how strong she was, then blushed when you thought about the definition in her muscles as she fucked you. she kicked open the door to her bedroom and softly laid you onto her bed. tucking you under her heavy blanket, she gave your forehead a peck and slid into the other side. with how dim the lighting was, you could barely make out how nayeon was just looking at you with a goofy smile plastered on her face.

“i like you too,” you admitted. she stroked your cheek and hummed in contentment. you looked over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of the time on her clock. “fuck. my-my manager, i need to let them know i-”

“shh, shh… darling please don’t worry.” all that fear and anxiety was washed away when nayeon shushed you.

“i’ll handle it, princess.”

-

rahhh first fic! lemme know what you think :D i might continue it but we'll see how it goes... title inspired by underwater by red velvet hehe

[rosedpetal]

Could you do a fluffy Robert chase one shot with his girlfriend?? 🥰✨

Of course, my little sugarplum fairy ✨, I hope you like it!

Masterlist

Robert left the surgery room, throwing his gloves, mask and surgical cap in the trash and washing his hands and arms thoroughly, his bloodshot eyes' reflection staring back at him in the mirror. He was exhausted. A five hour surgery turned almost eight, and even if it wasn't the longest he worked on a patient's insides, it was tiring nonetheless.

The only thing that kept him sane when work got overwhelming and challenging was the thought of you.

He'd picture you coming home from your 9 to 5 job, putting your coat in the hanger, slipping your pumps off and absentmindedly throwing your keys on the counter. His mind could envision it perfectly; you, stepping in the shower and scrubbing the remains of the day away, then drying up in a warm towel and then putting lotion on. Then, you'd put on the cutest pajama set and go to the kitchen to cook dinner for you both.

He'd come home to find dinner ready — sometimes you'd have to warm it up again in the microwave — and a sweet, loving girlfriend that more so often would let him enjoy the quietude for a while, eating dinner in comfortable silence, then, depending on your mood, his mood, or both moods, you two would fall asleep after a intense makeout session.

Robert enjoys the domesticity. He finds the routine to be convenient and relaxing.

He goes home after leaving the hospital, pulling out in the driveway of your shared home.

Immediately, he calls out to you, seeing you standing by the counter and chopping something in the cutting board.

"Hey, baby."

You look up from your shoulder, a small smile at your lips as you blow him a kiss. He'd never go straight to you after coming from the hospital.

He puts his clothes in the laundry machine, turning it on and taking a shower after. The warm water soothe the sore muscles of his back and shoulders.

Robert puts his sweatpants on and nothing else, rubbing the towel on his damp hair, then goes back to the kitchen.

As you hum softly to whatever new song got you hooked that week, your hips slowly swaying to the rhythm of it, he can't help the strong wave of love that takes over him.

He wraps his arms around you from behind, kissing the top of your head and inhaling the scent of your shampoo. You lean into his touch, contentment filling your whole being.

"I love you."

It comes so naturally, like you two were chatting about the weather. It's been coming more frequently now, but never losing the meaning in the slightest.

Robert takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. Somehow, in this little love bubble, the private paradise he built with you, his mind snaps back to the little velvet box hidden in the closet, and the urge to make it known by you as soon as possible makes his heart flutter.

[farfaras]

First part to this prompt I posted the other day. This is gonna be eventual steddie (sorry, stonathan) and I’m really excited. Title from the song ‘nonsense’ by Sabrina Carpenter.

I think I got an ex but I forgot him

Part 1. (You’re here)

Part 2.

-

If he heard the words: Robin and in love, in the same sentence, with the melodious voice of one Dustin Henderson, one more time. Steve was sure he was gonna lose it.

Listen, he understands where he’s coming from. The kid just wants him to be happy. But he is! Dustin just doesn’t seem to get that. Happiness doesn’t only come in the form of a relationship. His teenage brain can’t comprehend that fact just yet. He wishes he did though, because he’s absolutely insufferable about getting Steve and Robin together.

No excuse or explanation he gives is good enough. Dustin still insists that he needs to try, that this is his chance at true love. Robin is kind of the love of his life, sure, but the platonic love of his life. His best friend, his soulmate, sister from another mister. All that jazz. Dustin doesn’t buy it though.

And Steve’s tried everything! He even told Dustin about that time in starcourt when they were high off his asses. Told him that he confessed his crush to Robin but that she rejected him, and that they were best friends now and nothing else. He obviously left out the part where Robin came out to him. He’s never gonna reveal Robin’s secret to anyone. The only answer he got was that “It doesn’t even matter now! Things could’ve changed! You never know.” Steve knew. He knew that he would never be into his best friend like that, and she would never be into him. Apparently they were the only ones who knew that.

Because of all the fuss Dustin was constantly making, other people started giving their input. Thanks Dustin. They didn’t get it either, didn’t believe they were just Platonic with a capital P. They made sure they knew it too, the whole party, Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie. Not Argyle, he said that the energy between Steve and Robin was intense but completely friendly, almost like they were twins. Steve liked Argyle. Of course he had to be miles away.

Most of their friends dropped the subject after the second time Steve or Robin explained the nature of their relationship. Even if they weren’t convinced, they didn’t push. Except for one person. Yep. Dustin.

Who was currently harassing Steve at his job. He didn’t know what else to tell him. If family video wasn’t empty he would just ignore him to do his job but there was nothing to do. He couldn’t even sweep or anything because everything was already done.

“Okay well! There must be a good reason why you guys haven’t gotten together!” Dustin exclaimed. He is so fucking stubborn.

“I already told you, Henderson. We’re. Just. Friends.” He knew it wasn’t gonna do anything. It was just a routine at this point.

Dustin’s expression changed to determination. “Nuh uh. There’s a reason there. And I’m gonna find out!” Shit. Could Dustin figure out Robin? He doesn’t think so. But he’s starting to panic. What if he finds out? Robin doesn’t deserve that. He’d feel like it was his fault, and everything would go to shit.

“Okay! Okay! There is a reason.”

“I knew it! You have to tell me.” Dustin demanded. Well, Steve hasn’t thought that much ahead. He needs to come up with something and he needs to do it fast if Dustin is gonna believe it.

“Look, I haven’t told anyone this before.” Building suspense, nice.

Then, an idea popped into his head and it seemed like the perfect response to all of this. Or maybe it’s the only thing he could think of in such short notice. “I’m gay.” He blurts out. It made sense in his head, really. Robin doesn’t get outed, but she can still look at the reaction she might get when she comes out. (It doesn’t hold any kind of truth at all. Not one Steve can see right now at least.)

Dustin is just staring at him. “What? I don’t, you’re not, since when?”

“Since I was born?” It sounds like a question. Steve didn’t prepare for follow up questions to the reply he literally just crafted.

“There’s no way you’re gay.” At least he didn’t seem disgusted or upset? Is this a good or bad reaction?

“Are you not okay with it?” Steve dared to ask.

“What?! Of course I’m okay with it, I’m just. I don’t care, but you don’t really seem gay. It’s hard to believe.” At least he’s okay with it. He’s still being stubborn.

“Way to stereotype, Henderson.”

Dustin sputters. “Wha- can you even blame me? Who could believe you?”

The next words that came out of Steve’s mouth didn’t actually ask for permission to be said. “My boyfriend can believe it.” He said it so matter of fact that he surprised himself a little. The way he usually took the route of action before thinking was gonna bite him in the ass some day. Would that be today?

“Boyfriend?!! And you didn’t tell me? You don’t have a boyfriend!” He accused Steve. “Who is it?”

Oh. Shoot. Quick, brain. Who could be his boyfriend? Someone his age, that was single, and could be believed to be in a gay relationship.

“It’s Jonathan.” Why did he say that? He just broke up with Nancy, that would just seem like a messy situation. Also is he literally just doing what he scolded Dustin for and stereotyping?

“But he just broke up with Nancy.” Hmm. Did Dustin read his mind or something.

“It’s new. That’s why I haven’t told anyone.”

“Not even Robin?” Oh, crap. Is he gonna have to tell this to people? Well, he should probably tell Jonathan first that he is apparently in a relationship with him now.

“Not even Robin.” Dustin beamed at this.

“You know, even if you and Jonathan are kind of a weird sounding couple, and this is surprising… if you’re happy then I’m happy for you, Steve.” That was weirdly sweet of Dustin.

“Thanks, bud.”

After that and renting a movie, Dustin was on his way. He gave Steve a hug goodbye and hopped on his bike to go home.

Steve had a lot of things to get done now. And he hoped that the first one went well because he didn’t really have a plan B if it didn’t. What had he gotten himself into?

First things first. Asking Jonathan to be his fake boyfriend.

At least for a while.

What could go wrong?

-

Step 1. Get Jonathan to be his fake boyfriend.

Step 2. Probably get Robin in on it?

He’s not sure about that one. This situation was kind of embarrassing, he’d rather just share his embarrassment with the one person who is absolutely necessary. Also Robin doesn’t seem like the type to lie to their friends. Even if it was harmless.

Step 2. Probably get Robin in on it?

Step 2. Make a game plan.

They’d probably need to talk about how this was gonna go. Get all their facts straight in case there were any questions, which there were going to be. Plan how long this was gonna be for. He was getting a bit ahead of himself, but there was no plan B.

Step 3. Hope it’s believable.

He was already outside of the Hopper-Byers home. This shouldn’t be hard, Jonathan is a pretty understanding guy. He wouldn’t judge Steve, or make fun of him. At least that’s what Steve hoped. They’ve been developing a friendship for a while. Which has been going surprisingly well. Fuck. Was this gonna mess it up?

He got out of his car and walked to the door, knocking. El answered the door, she gave him a smile and let him in.

“Is Jonathan home?” Him asking for Jonathan wasn’t a rare occurrence nowadays, so El just nodded and pointed to his room.

He knocked to make his presence known. “Hey, Jon?” He opened the door and stepped inside the room.

“Hiya. What’s up, Harrington?” Jonathan grinned at Steve. Ah. Shit. He didn’t look completely sober. Must’ve smoked something earlier.

“Well, I wanted to talk to you. I’d rather wait until you sober up though.” Jonathan just gave him a thumbs up.

“Happy to have company.” Steve knew Jonathan was having trouble dealing with the break up. They had been together for a while and he thought that those two were gonna beat all the odds and marry each other or something. Maybe they still could find their way back to each other someday. Right now though, it probably sucked.

Nancy was off to college, Jonathan stayed here in Hawkins doing community college. There was no way of knowing how Nancy was taking it, she barely called and when she did it was kinda cut and dry. Although Steve supposed that was a way of telling she wasn’t doing so good either.

They hung out, doing nothing in particular. Just talking, listening to music and Steve sobering him up.

“Did you say you wanted to talk about something?” Jon asked. He looked sober now. Or as sober as his perpetual stoner face could look.

“Yeah… I kinda did something stupid.”

“Don’t we all.” Cute. Was he trying to make him feel better? It would’ve worked if what he did wasn’t as stupid as it was.

“No, seriously. I think this is the dumbest thing I have done.” Understatement.

“It can’t be that bad.” Jon’s words weren’t aligned with his face because it looked like he was starting to worry.

“It has something to do with you too.” With those words, Steve definitely made Jonathan start to worry. “Hear me out first!”

Retelling the events from earlier was excruciating. Steve has never felt this embarrassed before. It sounded so dumb saying it out loud.

“You really couldn’t come up with anything else? Like oh I don’t know. Saying you don’t like Robin like that?” It was like he wasn’t even listening.

“I tried that thousands of times! He wouldn’t buy it!”

“Why haven’t you just dated anyone else? To prove that you’re not hung up on her?” Interesting line of questioning. Honestly, it’s been a long time since someone has made him feel anything at all. No girl caught his attention like before. Has the upside down messed him up so bad that he can’t form romantic connections anymore?

“I just, I don’t really. Taking a break from dating sounded good to me.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” Jon didn’t believe him, whatever.

“Look I just panicked, spoke without thinking.”

“You know, I actually thought that Dustin was right about you and Robin before. But if you’re so determined to prove you’re not, to even come up with something like that.” Steve hated this. Was Jonathan getting a kick out of this?

“Are you amused? I’m kinda suffering here.” Steve lamented. “Can you just please help me?

“Oh god, what do you expect me to do? Pretend to date you to get Dustin off your back?” Yes. Please.

“Look! I only ask for a few weeks! It doesn’t have to be for long. Just, a few weeks of fake dating and then just say it didn’t work out and we decided to stay friends. All that cheesy stuff.” God, he was not being convincing at all.

Jonathan still looked skeptical. But at least he was considering it now. “I’ll owe you, big time. Whatever favor you want.” Steve offered.

Jon looked resigned now. He huffed out a breath. “I never thought my first boyfriend was gonna be Steve Harrington.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I always pictured a nerd or maybe a stoner.” He was confused now. Was Jonathan? “Yes, Steve. You should probably know if we’re gonna do this. I also like guys. And I’m assuming you’re okay with it, considering what you just asked.”

“Of course! Thanks for telling me. I’m glad you could trust me.” He was being genuine. Even if Steve was a little surprised, and now felt even more guilty about words he used in the past to insult Jonathan. All the past apologies seemed insufficient. Even so, he was happy that their friendship could develop into this.

“So? How is this gonna work? You really owe me now, you know.”

“Trust me, I know.”

So their friendship wasn’t ruined. Who knows? Maybe this could make it stronger.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 1

What's this? Two posts for WIP Wednesday??? I said I was gonna spoil you guys. Now, I originally planned to do Carry Your Heart. Figured the top and bottom choices from the WIP Wednesday poll would be fun. But both stories are at a point where Danny is taking Jason to Frostbite and I just didn't feel like writing the same scenario twice, even if the details and POV are totally different.

So I went to the third place option.

If you want a say in what I work on this week, check out the poll!

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

Chapter 1: AO3 (user locked), Tumblr

Word Count: 1.5k

-----

Jazz tapped her finger on her phone as she waited for the Dunkin employee to call out her order. Red Hood was supposed to arrive any minute. She’d left her dorm a full two hours ago and led Agents K and O on a merry chase through Boston before finally losing them at Quincy Market. Then she’d doubled back and was now near Northeastern. She had no reason to be here, so hopefully it’d take a little longer to track her down.

And that’s when she felt it—a ghost or liminal was nearby.

Pushing his way in the building was a tall man with a red beanie covering dark hair. He had on an unbuttoned flannel jacket over a Dumpty Humpty T-shirt and jeans with a backpack slung over one shoulder. He glanced around before his eyes settled on her and he grinned.

“Hey, Jazz, right?” He held out his hand. “I’m Todd.”

Jazz couldn’t say anything and just stared in horror. Red Hood couldn’t be liminal. Had she just led another liminal to the guys in white? Did he even realize he was considered an ecto-entity under the anti-ecto acts she’d introduced him and Red Robin to?

“Jazz? Are you okay?” he asked, dropping his hand.

“Order for Jazz!” called out the barista.

Jazz shook herself and grabbed her drink with a smile for the employee. Then she grabbed Todd’s elbow and dragged him over to the tables.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting—” she cut herself off. She had no idea what he knew and what he didn’t. And the agents could come get them at any moment. Instead she pulled out her phone started turning off every security setting. “Never mind. Do you want anything?” she asked with a gesture at her own drink.

“I’m all right. But, are you? What happened?”

Jazz let out a laugh; if the way Todd’s eyes widened was any indication, it was a tad more hysterical that she would’ve liked. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing happened.” She looked down at his shirt. “My brother loves Dumpty Humpty, you a music fan?”

He seemed nonplussed at the topic change but shrugged. “Sure. Music is good, but I stole this shirt from one of my brothers. I don’t know if I could name a single song by them. How about you?”

Jazz grinned and forced herself to relax as she logged out of her school email on her phone. “I’m a huge fan of any sort of self-expression, including music. Actually, my plans for tonight involve music, so I hope you like the indie scene. Might be a bit intense for a first date, but I’ve always figured, why not jump right in? Show ‘em the crazy from the start and see if they can keep up.” She leaned forward over the table and winked at him. “Think you’ll be able to keep up?”

Todd played the game perfectly and looked her up and down like they really were about to start a first date. “With you, sweetheart, I’ll follow anywhere you lead.”

Jazz laughed and stood. “Come on, then. We’re going on an adventure.”

Todd grinned and joined her. “Lead the way.”

Once out of the building, Jazz led them away from the university. This being Boston, it wasn’t long before they came across a homeless man begging on the side of the street.

Wincing internally, she gripped Todd’s arm and said loudly, “Honestly, I don’t know why the cops don’t do a better job of keeping away the beggars.”

Todd looked at her in surprise. “What are you talking about? They have a right to exist and we should help them.”

“They’re probably fine. Everyone knows they only use the money they’re given on drugs and alcohol.” She pretended to glance at her phone before reaching back to shove it in her back pocket. Only to miss so it fell to the ground. “Ew, he’s looking at us. Come on, let’s cross the street.”

She could feel the way Todd tensed at her words, but he let himself be led across the street.

As soon as they were out of hearing shot, he turned to her and hissed, “What the hell was that?”

Jazz glanced back and saw the man picking up her phone. She looked away before he could catch her looking. “Come on, I’ll explain.” She grabbed Todd’s hand and led him down an alley to a much busier street. “I had to ditch my phone. I logged out of everything and left it unlocked so he can use it or resell it. I needed to make sure he wouldn’t try to return it to me and, well, what better way than being the worst person you can imagine?”

And now he was staring, open mouthed.

“They’ve had remote access to my phone for months and I couldn’t let them track us!” she insisted. Habit had her looking around for any sign of a white suit.

“Who can’t find us?”

Jazz shook her head. “The guys in white. Look, this is too public. I can’t say much else here. But meeting you, everything had to change. You’re in danger just by being near me and I refuse to be the reason you get hurt.”

“Why am I in danger?”

“Later!” Jazz hissed before wincing and looking around. She forced a smile back on her face and asked, in as normal a tone as she could manage, “What time is it? Do you know?”

He looked down at his phone. “Uh, looks like it’s almost five.”

“Oh great! Plenty of time for us to get something to eat before I bring you to our surprise destination.”

And from there, Jazz led Todd on a convoluted tour of Boston. They grabbed food at the Pru, then she took him to the green line. Where they traveled four stops before she jumped up in feigned surprise that they were on the wrong branch. So then they got off and hopped on the train going in the opposite direction.

Which was where she wanted to be going all along.

For once, she was happy the orange line was still under construction, because the shuffle of passengers from trains to buses and back just made their journey that much more complicated and harder to follow.

By the time they finally got to their stop, the sun had mostly set. The station was mostly empty and Jazz looked around for any sign of white suits or vans, but even when she didn't see any, she couldn't relax.

“Where are we going?” Todd asked for probably the dozenth time.

Jazz rolled her eyes. “We’ll be there in five minutes and then you’ll find out.”

She led him to the street, the crosswalk had lights over it, but the rest of the road was shrouded in darkness. They ran across without waiting for the walk symbol.

Once they crossed what was basically a divided highway, Jazz led them along the poorly lit and cracked sidewalk. Ahead of them they were approaching a river.

“It’s before the river,” muttered Jazz to herself. “Is this it?” She hesitated at the top of a sloping, unpaved drive that led to an industrial building that sat on the waterfront. “I think so. Apparently this building used to be a coffin factory. Cool, huh?”

“I don’t care for coffins,” was Todd’s terse reply.

Jazz flinched slightly. She knew he was death-adjacent. Should’ve known better than to mention coffins. “Right, sorry. Well, they aren’t made here anymore.” She made her way down the steep drive, Todd a step behind her.

“What is it now?”

“Apartments, I believe.”

Once at the bottom, she looked around and saw the old loading dock. Entering, she looked for the door on the left.

Only to hesitate once more. Two doors were on the left. She hadn’t heard anything about there being two doors. Taking a chance, she opened the first one.

Inside was a table where two women sat in front of a metal box. On the wall were a set of pegs already mostly filled with coats. And inside milled probably thirty or forty people.

The women smiled at Jazz. “Hi, have you two been here before?”

Jazz shook her head and pulled two twenties out of her wallet. “No. But I had a classmate come here and tell me about it. When I realized you had something going on tonight when I had a date? Figured it was a great place to come with my partner!”

She laughed. “We’re definitely unique here at the Night Cap.” She stamped their hands. “Show starts in half an hour, but feel free to mingle until then. Bathroom’s through the kitchen.”

“Thanks! We’re looking forward to tonight.”

Todd nodded his own thanks and followed Jazz into the room.

“What are we doing here?” he whispered in her ear.

“Hiding,” she whispered back. “I’ve never been here before. Never even taken this stop on the T before. When we leave here, we’ll get a motel room or something and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Is this necessary?”

“Without a doubt.”

Jazz could tell Todd didn’t fully believe her, but he dropped it. Jazz found a few people who were discussing that evening’s performers and the two of them joined the conversation.

-----

Part 2

I no longer do tag lists, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want notifications when I update.

So, I had a lot of fun with this section. The place Jazz takes Jason to? Real place. Though Night Cap isn't what the residents call it. Honestly, the real name is also impossible to google. If you don't know it exists, you would never find it (why Jazz runs from the GIW there). Out of respect for the residents of the apartment, though, I changed the name. I went to a show there and it was super weird trying to find it. Like, the directions in my email seriously said "enter the loading dock of the former coffin factory, find the door on the left, and slip the person standing there $10-20 cash. Don't touch anyone's personal belongings, please."

As we waited for the bathroom during set break, two of the residents were cooking dinner at the stove and we were chatting about how Regan was the worst.

10/10 would go again.

Anyone who has spent any time in Boston knows what I mean about the T being under construction. Annoying as hell, but it worked out for Jazz this time.

(The T is the name of the Boston train/subway system.)

The Pru refers to the Prudential building. The bottom level(s) are full of restaurants and shops (basically a high end shopping mall) and upper levels are offices. The top level is an observation deck that's open to the public, though I've never been.

[thebunnednun]

LOYALTY [Chapter 4]

Katsuki Bakugou x Sugar Baby! Reader

Summary: Fuck a breakup, you ever have your fiance and partner of 8 years dump you during his promotion party in front of your bosses and the whole office with the girl he told you, “Don’t worry about,” on his arm?

The man you moved continents to support and move in with while you worked from home and helped promote his hero career because you thought he loved you and he called it an investment in your future together while you just did it out of love?

Welp, now he’s kicked you out in a strange land and you’ve gotta make it on your own. When you can't get a new job or apartment and tuition is almost due: you’ve got two options: Strip it or lose.

And I guess the angry blond that keeps coming back to your club wants to help you too.

Summary:

Bakugou can't sleep and you're gonna help him. Too bad your ex is trying to get you tho.

Tonight's song: Put your head on my shoulder by Paul Anka

--------------------------Chapter 5: Sleepless--------------------------

Katsuki Bakugou sat slouched at his desk, his eyes half-lidded as he struggled to stay awake. He’d barely gotten any sleep last night, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite shake. It was unlike him to be this distracted—he was always the first one in the office, ready to tackle whatever the day threw at him. But today was different.

Kirishima strolled into the office, his usual grin plastered on his face. He could tell something was off with Bakugou the moment he saw him, and he couldn’t resist poking fun at his best friend.

“Yo, Bakubro! What happened? Did you go to bed at 8:31 instead of 8:30 like usual?” Kirishima teased, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Bakugou’s crimson eyes narrowed, the familiar fire flickering back to life despite his exhaustion. Without a word, he raised his hand and sent a small explosion towards Kirishima’s face. The redhead reacted instantly, hardening his skin to absorb the blast without a scratch, the force of it blowing his hair back slightly. He grinned even wider, unfazed by the attack.

“Not in the mood, shitty hair,” Bakugou grumbled, reaching for a bottle of water on his desk and guzzling it down in one go. The cool liquid did little to wake him up, but it was better than nothing.

Kirishima chuckled, sliding a cup of coffee across the desk towards his friend. “Relax, man. You look like you didn’t sleep at all. Maybe we could get you some sleep aids through the company. Or, y’know, you could try those ASMR videos of people cooking. That seems right up your alley.”

Bakugou shot him another glare, but it lacked its usual intensity. He knew Kirishima was just trying to help in his own way, but it only irritated him more. It wasn’t like he could explain what was really bothering him. How was he supposed to tell his best friend that he couldn’t stop thinking about a girl he saw at a club? A girl that he subscribed to and she didn’t even need to get naked. A girl that made him feel alive and seen last night. A girl who returned both his phone and wallet when he forgot them while his head was still reeling from the little heart she left on the glass for him and didn’t touch anything in or on them. This wasn’t him. He didn’t get hung up on shit like that.

With a heavy sigh, Bakugou slumped back in his chair, letting his eyes drift shut for a moment. “I don’t need that shit. M’fine,” he muttered, though the weariness in his voice betrayed him.

Kirishima softened his gaze, recognizing the weight behind Bakugou’s words. He knew his friend better than anyone, knew when to push and when to back off. This was one of those times where Bakugou needed space, even if he wouldn’t admit it. But that didn’t mean Kirishima wasn’t going to keep an eye on him.

“Alright, man. But if you need to talk, you know I’m here,” Kirishima offered, his tone light, but sincere.

Bakugou grunted in response, still half-asleep but grateful in his own way for the gesture. He leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to shake off the lingering thoughts from last night. But no matter how hard he tried, your face, your voice, your touch against the glass—it all kept playing in his mind like a broken record.

Kirishima watched his friend, concern creeping into his features. He wasn’t used to seeing Bakugou like this, so lost in his own head. It wasn’t normal, and that worried him more than anything.

“Seriously, though. You look like crap, Bakugou. Maybe take a break today? I can handle things for a bit.”

Bakugou’s eyes snapped open, a fierce scowl forming on his face as he sat up straight. “Don’t tell me what to do, shitty hair,” he snapped, the fire back in his voice. But there was something different in the way he said it, a tinge of frustration that wasn’t usually there.

Kirishima raised his hands in mock surrender, a playful grin on his face. “Alright, alright. Just take care of yourself, okay?”

Bakugou didn’t respond, his mind already wandering back to you. He hated how much space you were taking up in his thoughts, but the more he tried to push it away, the more it clung to him. What was it about you that had gotten under his skin so easily?

As the morning dragged on, Bakugou couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew one thing for certain—he needed to see you again. And that thought, more than anything, kept him on edge.

---

The apartment was more than you could’ve hoped for. Spacious, clean, and blessedly affordable, it was the perfect place to start the next chapter of your life. The rent, at $750 a month, was a miracle in a city where finding decent housing was like winning the lottery. And the best part? You were only ten minutes away from Mr. Muhammad and Mrs. Yukiji’s apartment, which meant you could still babysit and tutor their kids—something you’d grown to love doing.

Michael had been relentless in pushing you to snag the place the moment it became available. You hadn’t been as eager at first, especially when you found out it was the apartment next to hers, but Michael, with her boundless energy and persuasive charm, had made it impossible to say no. It didn’t hurt that she was in the same major as you, and you’d grown close during your time together at school. 

She was more than just a friend; she was your confidante, the big sister you never had.

The other girls from the club had turned out to be in a similar boat. Students, just like you, all trying to make ends meet while juggling classes and work. When the campus housing became too expensive, even with grants and scholarships, they’d banded together, pooling their resources and looking out for each other like a little family. Michael, ever the leader, had welcomed you into the fold without hesitation. Despite your initial shyness and ironic dislike for physical touch, they adored you. You were their baby, the one they all wanted to protect.

Ruby—or Megumi, as you knew her outside the club—had even offered to help you get back at your ex by having her boyfriend smash his car. The image of sweet, petite Ruby taking a bat to a car was enough to make you laugh, though you quickly turned down the offer, not wanting her boyfriend to get another strike on his record.

Then there was the matter of your safety. Your day job was getting strange, with less projects being sent your way, so you’d confided in Michael about the security tape and microchip you’d taken. Without missing a beat, she’d helped you make copies and store them in a safe, just in case. Two copies were hidden in the Muhammads’ apartment, tucked away where no one would think to look.

Today, the Muhammads were helping you sign the lease for your new apartment. Mr. Muhammad, a kind, soft-spoken man in his early 50s, was a history professor at the local university. His wife, Mrs. Muhammad, was a petite Japanese woman with a serene smile and a talent for making you feel instantly at ease. Their oldest daughter, Amira, was in high school, a bright and driven teenager who reminded you a lot of yourself at that age. Their young son, Kaito, was a bundle of energy, always asking questions and eager to learn about the world around him.

When you introduced Michael as a friend from work, the Muhammads took to her immediately. She joked about you being a good girlfriend, which totally went over their heads, but you threw her a look anyway as she giggled. Michael knew how much the Muhammads meant to you, and she was careful to keep things light and respectful, even if she couldn’t resist teasing you a bit.

As you walked through the apartment, you marveled at how everything had fallen into place. The white walls were pristine, the oak hardwood floors gleamed in the afternoon light, and the kitchen was small but functional—a perfect fit for someone who wasn’t exactly a master chef. (C0ugh *you* cOuGh) The two bedrooms were cozy, with plenty of closet space, and the living room had a large window that overlooked a quiet, tree-lined street.

The extra furniture, courtesy of your generous subscribers, was a bit harder to explain. You and Michael had frantically hidden it inside her apartment until you could put it all together later. The night before you and her skipped work to take the train to your job’s building. Why? Because you weren’t gonna tell the sweet old couple where the furniture came from. 

Micheal was surprised that your old car, affectionately called "the lemon," was still running after you recovered it from your day job's parking lot. You playfully told her to hush, not wanting to jinx it. The two of you piled in and raced home to perform a “reverse breakin” knowing that the building’s tenants would be up soon and you really didn’t wanna catch your ex before his morning run. 

You didn’t even care that it was a very empty apartment. You had freedom that no one could take away from you. You were living by yourself for the first time ever and that was a big deal. 

The place was a blank canvas, waiting for your own personal touch.

Once the lease was signed and the keys were handed over, you all pitched in to move your actual things. It went surprisingly smoothly, considering your limited resources. Michael made sure to lighten the mood with her usual jokes, and even Mr. Muhammad cracked a smile as he helped carry in a particularly heavy box. By the time you were done, the apartment was filled with the sounds of laughter and the comforting buzz of a new home being settled into.

That evening, you decided to thank the Muhammads by cooking dinner for them. It was a modest attempt—nothing fancy, just a simple stir-fry and some rice—but you wanted to show your appreciation. The stir-fry had been a bit more adventurous than you’d planned, and you’d accidentally set off the alarms with some overzealous seasoning. As you bustled around the kitchen, you could hear the family joking in the living room about how it was good you were testing out the smoke alarms. 

So take out it was!

Sitting down to dinner with them felt like a small piece of normalcy in your otherwise chaotic life. They were your family now, and as you shared a meal together, you felt a sense of warmth and belonging that had been missing for a long time. The Muhammads’ daughter, Amira, asked you about your classes and asked if you would come to her volleyball tournament. Kaito, their son, was more interested in showing you his latest LEGO creation, proudly displaying it on the dining table as you all ate.

Mrs. Yukiji complimented you on the meal, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she assured you the smoke alarm incident was just part of the learning process. Mr. Muhammad, ever the gentle old guy, simply smiled and nodded, grateful for the effort you’d put in.

As the evening wound down and you walked them to the door, you felt a swell of gratitude for the way they’d welcomed you into their lives. It wasn’t just about signing the lease or moving into a new apartment; it was about building a support system, about knowing you weren’t alone in the world. You had Michael and the girls, the Muhammads, and even your new subscribers, all playing a part in helping you find your footing again.

‘I should do another show soon.’

And as you stood in your new apartment, the sounds of the city filtering in through the window, you felt something you hadn’t in a long time: hope.

While you wash the dishes, Mrs. Yukiji approaches you quietly, her usual warm smile replaced with a concerned expression. She gently taps your shoulder, drawing you away from the sink. 

“Sweetheart,” she begins, her voice soft but serious, “I need to talk to you about something.” She reaches into her apron pocket and pulls out a small, yellow package. “This arrived for you, but… it’s from him.”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of his name, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat. Kyoya—the one person you’ve been trying so hard to avoid, the reason you’d gone through all this trouble to stay off the grid.

Mrs. Yukiji sighs, her eyes filled with motherly concern. “I didn’t mean to snoop, but I’ve been trying to get all your mail redirected to your new place. When I saw this, I thought it was best to let you know right away.” She gently places the package in your hand.

“He’s been asking about you,” she continues, her brow furrowing slightly. “Living with us might have helped you stay hidden, but… you should be careful, my dear. You never know with men like that.”

You feel a rush of mixed emotions—fear, anxiety, but also a sense of safety standing here with her. 

“I don’t know what’s in that package, but…” Mrs. Yukiji’s voice softens further as she reaches up to kiss your temple, her short stature requiring her to stretch a bit. “Maybe you should open it at the police station, just in case it’s something… unpleasant. We’re here for you, remember that.”

Her words, though unsettling, carry the warmth and love that only someone who truly cares about you could offer.

Mrs. Yukiji gives you one last reassuring smile before she heads back to the living room. You watch her return to the cozy space, where Michael immediately makes room for her on the couch. The two of them share a brief exchange, and then Michael's gaze shifts back to you, her eyebrows lifting in curiosity.

You hold up the small yellow package, its presence a stark contrast to the warm, homey atmosphere of your new apartment. Michael tilts her head, a silent question in her eyes. You mouth the words, "Ex-man," with a touch of exasperation.

Michael's response is immediate and dramatic. She rolls her eyes, then, making sure no one else is watching, she pretends to choke herself, her expression a comically exaggerated mix of annoyance and disgust. The sight makes you stifle a laugh, your shoulders shaking with quiet giggles.

You set the package down inside the trash can, it doesn’t deserve a place in your new life—not on your new kitchen counters, not anywhere in this apartment that’s quickly becoming your sanctuary.

The small act of discarding it feels like a weight lifted from your chest, and when you glance back at Michael, she gives you a subtle thumbs-up, her eyes twinkling with approval.

You didn’t know what kind of statement he was trying to make but he could take it and shove it straight up his-

“The shows back on!”

“I’m coming!”

–

Up on the rooftop, Bakugou and Kirishima sit with their legs dangling over the edge, enjoying the fresh air as they dig into their convenience store haul. The city hums beneath them, but the height offers a certain peace that neither of them can get on the crowded streets below. Bakugou munches on a sandwich, the coffee he picked up doing little to shake the exhaustion clinging to him. Kirishima, always on alert, keeps watch while they eat, his eyes scanning the horizon.

Kirishima breaks the silence first, biting into an apple before glancing over at his friend. “You going back to that club tonight?”

Bakugou shrugs, hunching over as he chews, clearly not interested in the conversation. 

“Come on, bro,” Kirishima continues, trying to sound lighthearted. “I love seeing you get out there, but this isn’t the way to start living your life. You’re gonna get brain rot.” He tosses the rest of his apple toward Bakugou, who catches it effortlessly and glares at him.

“If I did, it’s from hanging out with you for so long,” Bakugou snaps back, rubbing his tired eyes. The coffee isn’t doing its job, but he refuses to pump himself full of those sugary energy drinks that make him feel like crap later.

Kirishima just grins and scoots a little closer. “Come on, man, you gonna tell me what’s up or am I not your bestie anymore?”

Bakugou groans, burying his face in his hands. “I met someone.”

Silence hangs in the air, and when Bakugou looks up, he sees Kirishima staring blankly at him, mouth slightly open.

“What?” Bakugou barks, annoyed.

“Nothing, nothing. Continue.” Kirishima quickly shakes himself out of it, but there’s a hint of surprise lingering on his face.

Bakugou glares, but then sighs, the weight of his thoughts pushing down on him. “I met someone at one of those stupid hangouts Pikachu organized. Now I can’t stop thinking about them.”

Kirishima props his chin on his fist, considering this. “Did you not grab their number or something?”

“No.”

“So you’ve been bummed because you met someone you were interested in and didn’t take a chance?”

“Her.”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t grab her number,” Bakugou clarifies, emphasizing the word with a scowl.

Kirishima blinks rapidly, processing this new information. “You got something to say?” Bakugou challenges, a dangerous edge to his tone.

“No, no, I just—well, I’m a little surprised,” Kirishima admits, holding up his hands in surrender. “So you’ve been going back, hoping to run into her again?”

“I do run into her, but she’s on the clock, and I don’t wanna mess up her shifts.”

Kirishima, assuming this mystery woman must be a bartender or something similar, nods sagely. “Ah, yeah, bro, it’s not manly to hit on someone while they’re working.”

Bakugou grunts in agreement, still looking a little lost in his thoughts. 

“Tell that to your fangirls,” Bakugou adds, his tone a mix of irritation and amusement. “Would it kill you to put on a shirt once in a while?” Kirishima laughs, the sound booming through the quiet evening air. “Hey! You get crowded way more than me, and the shirt would get ruined anyway! It would be like trying to groom a pineapple!” 

Despite himself, Bakugou smirks at that, shaking his head. “You’re such a dumbass.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dumbass,” Kirishima shoots back with a grin, bumping Bakugou’s shoulder playfully. “And I’m telling you, man, you gotta figure this out. Whether you want to admit it or not, this is getting to you.”

Bakugou looks out at the skyline, his smirk fading as his thoughts drift back to the club, to the mysterious woman who’s somehow taken root in his mind. Maybe Kirishima’s right. Maybe he needs to do something about this before it drives him crazy.

His eyes narrowed as he stared out at the city, the cool breeze doing little to calm the turmoil in his mind. He had half a mind to pull out his phone and check it—just to see if you had responded to his message—but he stopped himself. It was a stupid idea. He knew it. The last thing he needed was to get caught up in something that would only distract him more.

With a frustrated sigh, he shoved his phone deeper into his pocket, deciding to ignore it for now. Kirishima was finishing up his sandwich, glancing over at Bakugou every now and then with a concerned look.

The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity as they finished their patrol. The usual rhythm of their shift felt off, each passing second grating against Bakugou’s nerves. He could hardly focus on anything else, his mind continuously drifting back to that night, to you, and how you had somehow managed to take up residence in his thoughts.

Finally, the clock ticked over, signaling the end of their shift. Bakugou almost bolted for the door, eager to escape the endless loop of thoughts running through his mind. But as they were getting ready to leave, he vaguely remembered something his manager had mentioned earlier—something about a meeting with another agency. He brushed it off for now, deciding that whatever it was, it could wait. All he wanted was to go home and try to decompress.

Kirishima, always considerate, ordered takeout for dinner. He knew Bakugou would come out later, like a rat in the night, to eat whatever was left. When they got home, Kirishima made sure to leave Bakugou’s food in the fridge, his way of looking out for his best friend.

“Hey, I’m heading out with Mina,” Kirishima said as he popped his head into Bakugou’s room, checking in one last time before he left. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bakugou grumbled, though they both knew it was a half-truth at best.

Kirishima gave him a reassuring smile. “Alright, man. Try to get some rest, okay?”

Bakugou nodded, already turning over in bed as Kirishima flicked off the lights, leaving only the lamp and bathroom light on. The AC hummed softly, keeping the room at a comfortable level.

Despite how much he wanted to sleep, Bakugou found himself wide awake, staring up at the ceiling with red, swollen eyes. The exhaustion weighed on him, but his mind refused to shut down. He kept replaying everything—your face, the way you moved, the sound of your voice. It all kept circling in his head, a constant reminder of what he couldn’t seem to let go.

He clenched his fists, frustrated with himself for letting this get to him. This wasn’t like him. He was Katsuki Bakugou, for crying out loud. He didn’t let things like this mess with his head. And yet, here he was, unable to find peace, unable to shake the feeling that something was missing.

‘You know what’s missing.’

The night dragged on, the quiet ticking of the clock only serving to amplify the silence in his room. Bakugou closed his eyes, willing sleep to come, but all he could see was you—dancing in his mind, haunting his every thought.

"Lemme find out that bitch quirked me," Bakugou muttered under his breath, the frustration evident in his voice. He kicked the blankets off the mattress, feeling the oppressive heat of the night suffocating him. The city's lights, filtering in through the blinds, cast a harsh glare across his room, making it feel even hotter. The bed seemed to cling to him, its scratchy fabric rubbing against his skin in a way that only heightened his discomfort.

He tossed and turned, replaying the evening over and over in his mind. Despite taking a shower earlier, he felt as though he needed another one, desperate to wash away the residual restlessness clinging to him. 

But it wasn’t just physical discomfort; it was the emotional turmoil that gnawed at him. The moment your eyes met, there was something so profoundly different about you. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about how soft and delicate your features had been, how you had looked so soft  and huggable. The warmth in his stomach had spread to his chest, a feeling that was both alien and oddly comforting. You had respected his personal space, never making things awkward, never pushing boundaries. It was a rare feeling for him—being treated with such genuine humanity without any judgment.

The warmth in his chest felt like a conflicting beacon, pulling him towards thoughts of you even as he tried to push them away. He rolled over to glance at the clock on his bedside table, the bright red digits glaring back at him:

12:05 AM

Bakugou groaned, dragging a hand through his tousled hair. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t let a simple encounter with someone mess with his head like this. He needed to get some sleep, to clear his mind. But the more he tried to push the thoughts away, the more vividly they replayed in his head—the glow of your features, the way you had made him feel seen, the peculiar comfort that came from being in your presence.

He let out a frustrated sigh and buried his face in his pillow. Maybe it was just a fleeting connection, something that would fade with time. But for now, the city's lights and the ticking of the clock seemed to mock him, keeping him wide awake as he wrestled with the feelings that had unexpectedly crept into his life.

Bakugou closed his eyes, willing himself to steady his breathing. The room was still, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the faint sounds of the city outside. He focused on his breath, in and out, trying to anchor himself in the present. But as much as he tried to push the thoughts away, his mind wandered back to you. The memory of your dance played in his head like a vivid daydream, accompanied by the beat of that song you had chosen for him.

He had been listening to it on his Spotify since that night. The lyrics had burrowed into his brain, especially that one line that made it feel so personal. He knew he was an arrogant asshole—he was better than he was in high school, but that line had hit something deeper. As the song played in his head, he could almost see your silhouette, the way you had moved so fluidly, so intimately, like you were dancing just for him.

Katsuki shifted on his bed, his fingers absentmindedly drumming against the mattress as the scene replayed in his mind. The way your body moved, the way your eyes had locked onto his even through the barrier of glass. It had felt so personal, as if you knew him, really knew him, in a way no one else did. He could feel the tension in his chest, the yearning to hold you, to reach out and touch you, to feel the warmth of your skin against his.

But at the same time, he hesitated. He didn't want to mess everything up with his abrasive personality or his bad attitude. He didn't want to come off as a prick or discover that you weren't anything like the version of you he had built up in his head. The fear of ruining something before it even had a chance to begin gnawed at him.

He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white against the dark sheets, and then released them, repeating the action several times as if it could somehow dispel the restless energy coursing through him. The song's lyrics echoed in his mind, the word "loyalty" standing out above the rest. Bakugou hated liars. He hated posers. He hated pushy people who invaded his space. He could at least tolerate his former classmates, even if they were dumbasses most of the time. But with you... it was different. You hadn’t pushed. You hadn’t judged. You had just been there, existing in his space without making him feel crowded.

And then there was that heart you had drawn on the glass.

His breath hitched at the memory. That simple, playful gesture had done something to him. It had felt like a connection, something unspoken but real. He wanted to reach out, to touch that heart, to feel the warmth behind it. But at the same time, he was terrified of shattering the peace you seemed to have.

Katsuki sat up, running a hand through his messy hair, the strands sticking up at odd angles. The red digits on his clock now read 12:15 AM, and the night felt like it would never end. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet hitting the cool floor. The tension in his body refused to ease, and he found himself standing up, pacing the small space of his room. The shadows shifted with his movements, the city lights casting faint patterns on the walls.

He stopped by the window, staring out at the city below, his hands gripping the windowsill. He wanted to see you again, to experience that connection once more. But he was torn—between wanting to pull you into his life and wanting to keep his distance, afraid of what might happen if he let himself get too close. 

Bakugou sighed, the sound heavy in the quiet of the room, and leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window. He didn’t have answers, only the frustrating knowledge that you had gotten under his skin in a way no one else ever had. 

And now, he didn’t know how to get you out.

Bakugou gripped the curtains beside him, his fingers twisting the fabric as he closed his eyes and forced himself to relive that moment. That stupid, reckless moment when he had stood up and placed his hand on the glass, reaching out to you without thinking. 

He couldn’t see you clearly through the barrier, but he could tell you were smaller than him—tiny, almost. The way your head tilted when you noticed his hand against the glass made his heart lurch, and for a second, he almost pulled away, knowing he had startled you.

But something had kept him there. Stubbornness, or desire—he didn’t know what it was, but he willed himself to stay, to hold his ground. And then you did it. You placed your smaller hand against his, mirroring his gesture, and in that instant, he swore he felt something stir within him. It was as if his heart had started beating again, pounding against his ribs with a force he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hot electricity had shot through his fingertips, through his palm, down his arm, and into his chest. The sensation had been overwhelming, pooling around his heart, suffusing it with warmth and life. It was as if you had reached inside him and jump-started it, breathing new energy into something that had been dormant for far too long. The intensity of it had taken him by surprise, and for a moment, he’d felt utterly exposed, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to be in years.

‘Might as well have shot me,’ he thought, a bitter laugh bubbling up in his throat. No, it was more than that. It was like you had stabbed him, plunged a knife into his chest. Stabbing was much more intimate, after all—something personal, something that you had to think out.

"Fuck, no. Don’t think like that," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as if to dislodge the thought.

His grip on the curtains tightened, his knuckles turning white as he shut his eyes again, trying to block out the image of you standing there, just on the other side of that glass. When he opened his eyes, he felt sick, the room spinning around him as he looked down at the city below. The bright lights that usually made him feel alive now made him dizzy, disoriented, like the ground beneath him was shifting. He wasn’t afraid of heights—he never had been—so why did it feel like the floor was falling out from under him?

Why was there a sharp pain in his chest, like something was tearing him apart from the inside? 

His breath hitched, and for the first time in a long time, Bakugou felt like he was drowning in emotions he couldn’t control. The city stretched out beneath him, vast and indifferent, and he felt so small, so insignificant against it all. He hated feeling like this, hated the weakness that gnawed at him. 

Why couldn’t you be here to save him? 

The thought was irrational, pathetic even, but it clawed at him, a desperate longing he couldn’t shake. He didn’t need saving—he never had. He was Katsuki Bakugou, for fuck’s sake. He was strong, capable, a force to be reckoned with. But right now, all he wanted was for you to be there, to pull him out of this spiral before it swallowed him whole. 

He released the curtains and stumbled back from the window, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hand pressed against his chest as if he could somehow calm the storm raging inside him, but it was no use. You weren’t there, and he was left to face the crushing emptiness on his own.

Bakugou’s mind was a chaotic mess, torn between the urge to race down to your club and the instinct to keep his distance. How desperate would he have to be to show up there, to corner you with his feelings? He could already imagine it—the awkward encounter, the way you’d probably smile politely while thinking of the countless other clients who had begged for your attention, begged you to go out with them. He wasn’t just another guy, he knew that. But would you see him that way?

The thought of fucking everything up gnawed at him. What if he came off as a stalker, some creep who couldn’t take a hint? And what if—God, what if you were already in a relationship? What if you were happy with someone else, someone who wasn’t an arrogant, short-tempered asshole like him? The idea made him sick, but it was a reality he had to consider.

How selfish did he need to be before he lost his morality?

The question echoed in his mind, and for a moment, he was frozen in place, staring out at the city lights. But then something inside him snapped. He couldn’t stand the uncertainty, the not knowing. He had to do something—anything to alleviate the pressure building in his chest.

Without thinking, he turned away from the window and went back to his bed, grabbing his phone off the nightstand. His fingers were trembling as he unlocked it and scrolled through his messages, searching for the one he had sent you earlier. It was simple, direct, but it had taken him way too long to hit send.

Spiceman420: “You streaming tonight?”

That was it. He’d stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity before finally sending it. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could manage without sounding like a complete idiot. 

Now, as he sat on the edge of his bed, he hesitated again. His thumb hovered over the screen, debating whether to check if you’d responded. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his anxiety growing with each passing second. But eventually, he couldn’t resist. He tapped the message thread and felt his breath hitch when he saw that you were online—right now.

His heart did somersaults as he saw the small notification indicating that you had replied. With a mix of dread and hope, he opened the message.

xxPrincess Diamondxx: “Hey! Sorry I missed your message. :p I was soo tired but I’m doing a little something tonight. I was hoping you’d join me :) Here’s a personal invite just for you.”

You’d sent him a direct invite to your stream, something personal, just for him. Bakugou’s heart raced as he read the words over and over, his mind struggling to process that you had actually reached out to him, that you had thought of him. His fingers trembled as he fumbled for his earbuds, desperate to hear your voice again, even if it was only through a screen.

He quickly accepted the invite, feeling his nerves spike as the screen loaded. The cool night air brushed against his skin as he unlocked the window and stepped outside, needing the fresh air to steady himself. He sat on the ledge, his feet dangling over the side as he waited for the stream to start. The city lights below shimmered like a sea of stars, but all he could focus on was the anticipation building in his chest.

As the stream connected, the familiar interface of the platform greeted him, and he took a deep breath. He was about to see you again, even if it was just a virtual encounter. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. He didn’t know what to expect, didn’t know if he was ready to face you again, but there was no turning back now.

The screen flickered, and there you were. His breath caught in his throat as he saw you appear, the soft glow of your setup highlighting your features. You looked just as beautiful as he remembered, maybe even more so. The sight of you sent a wave of warmth through his body, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he settled in to watch.

His fingers clenched around the phone, his heart still pounding as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. He didn’t know what was going to happen next, but for now, he was content just to be here, just to see you. He adjusted his earbuds and leaned back against the window frame, letting the cool night air wash over him as he watched you, the tension in his chest slowly giving way to a strange sense of peace.

—-

You and Michael spent hours putting together that furniture, each piece stubbornly resisting your efforts until you finally caved and called some friends for backup. They brought their boyfriends along, who managed to figure out the assembly after watching a few YouTube videos. Finally, your guest bedroom transformed into a cuter, more posh version of your old basement setup.

The room is undeniably feminine and inviting, with soft pink bedsheets draped over a plush, cozy bed that beckons you to sink into it. The furniture, painted in delicate shades of white and cream, has a vintage charm, with intricate details and personal touches scattered throughout. A vanity sits against one wall, its mirror framed by warm lights, perfect for your evening rituals. The decor reflects your personality—elegant yet playful, with framed photos, scented candles, and soft throws adding warmth to the space.

You’ve lit some candles, their flickering flames casting a soft glow around the room. Your new guest bedroom is a cozy, feminine retreat, far more inviting than the old basement setup. You slip into your cherry red robe, the silky fabric hugging your figure nicely. The robe, a recent purchase, was a little indulgence you allowed yourself, and every time you put it on, it ironically reminds you of a client’s eyes. His intense gaze had left a lasting impression, one that still lingers in your mind. 

But you shake off the thought as you prepare for the night.

As you go live, the chat comes alive with messages, tips, and comments pouring in from your adoring fans. You smile, welcoming everyone warmly and explaining that after a whirlwind of life changes, you wanted to share a relaxing, intimate night with them. 

The atmosphere in the chat is buzzing with affection and curiosity as they ask you questions, their excitement palpable through the screen. You're in control, dictating the pace, and it feels empowering. Tonight, you're going to unwind with them, but on your terms.

You continue with your nightly routine, grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste. The chat buzzes with activity as you brush your teeth, some viewers commenting on how meticulous you are while others ask about your skincare products. Once your teeth are brushed, you reach for your moisturizer, applying it in gentle circles across your face.

BlushBerry: “Your skin literally glows! I need your entire skincare line!”

LunarDreamer:“I love how thorough you are with everything. It’s so relaxing to watch.”

You smile, feeling the cool moisturizer absorb into your skin. “Thanks, guys. I try to be consistent. It’s like a little ritual for me every night.”

With your skin now hydrated and fresh, you move to the closet, taking your time to pick out an outfit for work tomorrow. You slide the hangers across the rod before settling on something particularly spicy—a black, lacy bodysuit with sheer panels, paired with a sleek denim mini skirt and thigh-high boots. You hold the outfit up for the camera, grinning mischievously as the chat erupts.

Yourmom69: “Whoa, that’s hot! What’s the occasion?”*

ShadowKnight: “Damn, that’s a killer outfit. Can we get a full view?”

You chuckle as you lay the outfit out on the bed, adjusting the camera to show it off. “Let’s just say I like to keep things interesting. Gotta keep the workday spicy, right?”

Retrofan23: “What do you do for work that you get to wear something like that?”

You tilt your head playfully, leaning closer to the camera. “Oh, you know...I like to keep secrets. Any ideas?” You shoot them a teasing wink, watching as the chat goes wild with guesses ranging from model to dancer to secret agent.

As you finish setting up for tomorrow, you prop your phone against a stack of textbooks, making sure the angle captures you perfectly. You slip into bed, the plush pink sheets almost swallowing you whole as you sink into the mattress. The softness is immediately soothing, and you can’t help but let out a small, content sigh as you settle in.

The chat explodes again, filled with compliments and heart emojis.

GoldenSunset: “You look so cute and comfy! Those sheets are everything.”

VelvetRose: “That bed looks like heaven! And you in it? Perfection.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of the bed and the affectionate words from your viewers. As you shift slightly, your robe loosens, revealing the little white shorts you’re wearing underneath. The movement also causes the robe to slip off one shoulder, teasing just a hint of cleavage, enough to drive the chat wild.

StarGazer88: “Those shorts! 😍 And dem shoulders girl… wow.”*

FrightenedFae: “No bra? You’re spoiling us!”*

You laugh softly, pulling the robe back up a bit but leaving it just loose enough to keep them guessing. “You guys are too much. But hey, it’s all about comfort, right? Gotta be cozy before bed.”

Yourmom69: “You’re killing me with these vibes. It’s like I’m right there with you.”

You lean back against the pillows, relaxing as the chat continues to buzz with energy. “So, what about you guys? What do you do to unwind before bed? Any special routines?”

The responses come in quickly, with viewers sharing their own nightly rituals, from reading to meditating to watching their favorite shows. The exchange is easy and familiar, a reminder of the connection you’ve built with your community. You feel a sense of peace and contentment wash over you, knowing that you’ve created a space where everyone can come together, share, and simply be themselves.

Bakugou sat on his fire escape, the cool night air doing little to calm the heat simmering in his chest. His phone was propped up on his knee, earbuds snug in his ears, and his eyes glued to the screen where you were live, talking and interacting with your viewers. He wished it wasn’t just pixels. The way you moved, the way you smiled—it all felt so real, but also so far out of reach. 

He hated it. Hated how he felt jealous of these random extras, these faceless usernames who got to see parts of you, even if it was just a sliver of your world. He clenched his jaw, trying to shake the feeling. It was crazy, irrational even, but the thought of sharing you with anyone made his blood boil. He wanted you all for himself. No sharing, no competing with anyone else for your attention.

The way you teased your viewers, that playful glint in your eye as you read their comments, only made it worse. Bakugou leaned forward, his grip on his phone tightening. The robe you were wearing had slipped just enough to show a hint of your bare shoulder, and the chat was going wild. He let out a frustrated breath, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of more tips rolling in, each one paired with comments that made his skin crawl.

“This is stupid,” he muttered to himself, though his eyes never left the screen. His thumb hovered over the button to close out the stream, to just shut it all down, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he scrolled down to the premium options, his heart hammering in his chest. He knew it was a line he shouldn’t cross, but he was already too far gone.

With a few taps, he purchased the beginner package, a part of him cursing himself for being so damn desperate. The screen flickered, and suddenly, he had access to some exclusive content—photos, videos, things you didn’t share with the general public. 

The first thing he did was pull up one of the videos, the thumbnail alone making his breath hitch. You were sitting in that same plush bed, the one he had just seen live, but this time, you were holding the camera, your voice low and intimate as you spoke to whoever was watching. Him, now. 

His mind raced as he watched, every word you said feeling like it was directed at him, like you knew exactly what he wanted to hear. The way you moved, the way you looked directly into the camera—it was all so personal, so intoxicatingly close, and yet still just out of his reach.

He could hear you asking the viewers questions, your voice soft and teasing, like you were right there beside him. You were brushing your teeth now, the mundane task somehow feeling so intimate, and Bakugou couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to share those moments with you, to be the one in your space, not just another username in a chat.

When you held up that outfit—damn, that outfit—his breath caught in his throat. The chat was going wild, and he could feel his own heartbeat quicken as you laid the clothes out, teasing the viewers with a playful smirk. He could almost hear you in his head, taunting him with that same mischievous tone. 

You were speaking again, responding to a question about why you chose such a risky outfit. “What do you think I do for work?” you teased, your eyes glinting with amusement. 

Bakugou swallowed hard, his eyes locked on the screen. He could feel the heat rising in his chest again, that possessiveness creeping back in. How could these idiots not know? How could they not see what he saw?

He watched as you set up your phone, getting ready to climb into bed, the chat lighting up with compliments and guesses about your job. His eyes followed every movement, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t push away. The robe slipped up further, revealing the little white shorts you were wearing underneath, and the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra was painfully obvious now. 

“Damn it,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. You were so close, just within reach, and yet all he had were these damn videos and livestreams. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

He could feel his hands trembling as he adjusted his earbuds, his focus entirely on you now. The way you interacted with the chat, the way you responded to the endless stream of comments—it all felt so natural, so effortless. You were everything he didn’t know he wanted, and it was driving him insane.

But he couldn’t stop. Even as his mind screamed at him to shut it down, to stop torturing himself with something he could never have, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He didn’t want to be just another viewer, another faceless fan. He wanted more, needed more. 

As you settled into bed, adjusting your robe slipping just enough to tease, Bakugou’s heart raced. He didn’t care about the others watching, didn’t care about the chat or the tips. All he could think about was you, the way you looked, the way you spoke, the way you made him feel. And in that moment, he knew he was hooked. 

But damn, did it make him feel like a fool.

You snuggle into your pillow, feeling its softness beneath your cheek as the chat continues to buzz with activity. Messages flood in, viewers asking all sorts of questions about your routine and your life.

xxPinkswirl: "Why don’t you have any plushies on your bed? You’d look so cute with them!"

The question catches you off guard. For a moment, a flicker of a memory—your ex cutting and burning your beloved stuffed animals—flashes through your mind. Fucking asshole couldn't stand not being the center of your attention. Anything that wasn't him, had to go. The fear of anything not plain has lingered, but you push the thought aside and smile at the camera.

“I just haven’t gotten around to it yet,” you say, voice light. “But I do love plushies!”

The chat explodes with comments, viewers finding your response adorable.

Yourmom69: "Aww, what kinds do you like?" 

You giggled, your fingers playing with the edge of your robe. "Big, soft ones that I can really squeeze. Maybe something with a cute face that makes you just want to cuddle it all day." You were resting on your pillow again with your leg propped up. 

StarGazer88: "We need to get you some plushies ASAP!" 

Retrofan23: "Can we send you some? 😍"

FrightenedFae: I’ll be your plushie

Bakugou watches from his fire escape, a mix of emotions churning inside him. He feels a pang of embarrassment for wanting to keep you all to himself, even though he knows it’s irrational. The thought of others seeing this soft, intimate side of you drives him a little crazy. Without hesitation, he navigates to your shopping list, searching for a way to make your space feel more personal, more like home. But when he finds it empty, a surge of determination courses through him. He needs to ask you directly.

He buys some outfits you have on there, the extra cost barely registering in his mind as he clicks through your photos and videos, heart pounding with every new image. The way you move, the softness in your voice, even in these small moments, he’s captivated.

Back in your room, you notice a question from a username you don’t immediately recognize.

Spiceman420: “What kind of plushies do you want?”

You pause, a smile spreading across your face as you read the message. “Hmm, I think I’d love anything soft and cuddly—maybe a big bear. I need something cute and fluffy,” you reply, voice softening. “What about you all? What’s your favorite kind?”

The chat lights up again, and Bakugou leans back against the cool metal railing, his heart beating just a little faster as he imagines surprising you with something you’d love.

Yourmom69: "What’s your favorite comfort food?"

You stretched out, letting the soft bed cradle you as you thought about it. "Definitely mac and cheese," you replied with a playful smirk. "But it has to be the really cheesy kind, none of that watery stuff."

StarGazer88: "Are you into any video games?"

You rolled your eyes in a bratty manner. "Maybe, but only if they don’t waste my time," you teased, winking at the camera. "I get bored easily, so it better be worth it."

As you answered, Bakugou was leaning against the railing of his fire escape, tablet balanced on his knee, while his phone screen was filled with images of teddy bears. He kept scrolling, determined to find one that matched your description—something big, soft, and with an endearing little face.

Retrofan23: "Do you have any guilty pleasures?"

You bit your lip, pretending to ponder the question before answering. "Maybe," you said, dragging out the word. "But if I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, would it?"

Bakugou’s heart skipped a beat as he watched you, his fingers still tapping away on his phone. He found a bear that seemed perfect—soft, huggable, and with an expression that almost screamed, “Cuddle me.” He paused, contemplating before sending a message to you.

FrightenedFae: "What’s your favorite time of year?"

You grinned, curling into the pillow a bit more. "Winter," you answered, your tone a bit softer. "I love the cold, cozy nights, hot cocoa, and the way everything feels a little more magical."

Total lie actually. You hated not celebrating because of that jerk. But you wanted to experience it like in the movies and TV shows that kept you company. Spring was always better because it meant that your depression was over and summer would be there soon to warm you up again. 

Bakugou’s breath hitched as he readied himself to send the message. He was nervous—something that didn’t happen often, but this was different. You were different.

Spiceman420: Found something that might be your type. Mind if I send it your way?

He sent the message, his thumb hovering over the screen as if he could somehow will a response from you. Meanwhile, you were adjusting your phone, propping it against a pillow to get a better angle, unaware of the chaos you were causing in the chat.

Yourmom69: “I’m still caught up on the lack of plushies. I wanna see you surrounded by them!” 

“Maybe I'll start a new collection soon.~"

As the chat exploded with suggestions, Bakugou’s phone buzzed with your reply. His eyes widened slightly, and his pulse quickened as he read your response, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He quickly started searching for the best way to get that bear to you, his mind filled with thoughts of how you’d react when you saw it. He could picture you holding it close, smiling—maybe even thinking of him when you did.

You laugh again, the sound light and genuine as you shake your head. "You guys are being too generous," you say, warmth seeping into your tone. "But fine, I’ll make a list. Just one plushie at a time, though! That way, no one gets left out."

As the chat continues to buzz with excitement, Bakugou leans back against the wall, his heart still racing. His hand grips his phone tightly, and he can’t help the small smirk tugging at his lips. Watching you smile at his gift, even through a screen, feels oddly fulfilling.

He glances at the time on his tablet, realizing how long he’s been watching, but he doesn’t care. For now, he’s content to stay right where he is, just a little closer to you, even if it’s through a screen.

You scan through the chat, eyes catching a message you’d somehow missed. "Oh no, did I miss something from Spiceman420 ?" you ask aloud, teasingly adding, "Go ahead, but it better not be anything weird!" You laugh softly, leaning back against your pillows, the light from your screen casting a soft glow over your face.

Meanwhile, Bakugou is sitting on the edge of his bed, his tablet propped up on a makeshift stand of books and a few old magazines. His fingers hover over his phone screen as he quickly types the link to a fluffy blond teddy bear he’d found, slamming it into the chat. The moment he hits send, his heart races, watching for your reaction.

Your screen lights up with the image of the teddy bear, and the chat immediately bursts into a chorus of oo’s and awe’s. 

Yourmom69: That’s so cute!  

StarGazer88: Awww, I love it!  

Retrofan23: That bear’s got style.  

FrightenedFae: It would be perfect for you!

You tilt your head slightly, inspecting the bear. "Okay, I have to admit, that’s really cute," you say, your voice softening. "I could use a little guy to cuddle with and keep me company.” 

Bakugou’s lips twitch into a small smile as he sees your reaction. Without hesitating, he taps into his account and tips you enough to cover both the bear and its shipping. He feels a mix of satisfaction and a strange, unfamiliar warmth as he watches you consider his gift.

"Whoa, looks like Spiceman420 is really spoiling me tonight," you say with a playful lilt in your voice. "Thank you so much!" You glance at the growing number of comments scrolling up the screen.

Yourmom69: You’re so lucky!  

StarGazer88: We need to get her more plushies you guys!  

Retrofan23: Make a shopping list, we’ll cover it all!  

FrightenedFae: Let us spoil you!

You felt a little panic rise into your chest at the idea of owning plushies again. But you could just keep them inside the room as props. That’s all they would be, props.

As the chat continues to buzz with excitement, Bakugou leans back against the wall, his heart still racing. His hand grips his phone tightly, and he can’t help the small smirk tugging at his lips. Watching you smile at his gift, even through a screen, feels oddly fulfilling.

He glances at the time on his tablet, realizing how long he’s been watching, but he doesn’t care. For now, he’s content to stay right where he is, just a little closer to you, even if it’s through a screen.

As you continue chatting with your viewers, a large tip notification pops up on your screen, nearly making you do a double-take. "$500?!" you exclaim, a mix of surprise and amusement in your voice. The accompanying message reads:

"Put on some lotion for us, please."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "You know, I can’t say no to that," you tease, your voice dropping to a sultry tone. The chat goes wild with excitement, the screen filling with heart emojis and messages encouraging you.

Meanwhile, Bakugou, who had been half-distracted by his own thoughts, immediately perks up, his vermillion eyes widening at the sudden turn of events. He sits up straighter, his jaw tightening slightly as he watches you on the screen. His eyebrows raise in surprise, but he can’t tear his gaze away.

You make a show of it, slowly walking over to your vanity and grabbing a bottle of lotion. "I guess you all want a little show, huh?" you say, your voice soft and teasing. The way you drag out your words only makes the anticipation grow, and you can see the chat explode with excitement.

Yourmom69: Damn ma, you sexy!!  

StarGazer88: This is gonna be good!  

Retrofan23: Can’t wait to see this!  

FrightenedFae: I’m dying already!

You stand up and move gracefully back to your vanity, the soft light from your candles casting a warm, golden glow on your skin. Bakugou watches intently as you sit on the stool, positioning yourself just right for the camera. The robe you’re wearing shifts slightly, revealing a bit more of your thigh as you sit down, and you can almost hear the collective gasp from your audience.

As you pour a generous amount of lotion into your hands, you rub them together slowly, the sound of your hands moving against each other barely audible but strangely intimate. The way you start at your ankles, (you not showing your feet for free working the lotion into your skin with deliberate, sensual movements, has Bakugou leaning in closer to his screen. His eyes are locked on you, his heart pounding in his chest as he watches you slowly massage the lotion up your calves, over your knees, and then up your thighs. 

His throat feels dry, and he swallows hard, trying to regain some semblance of composure. But it’s no use; he’s completely captivated by the sight of you. The soft, deliberate way you move, the way your fingers glide over your skin, it’s all too much. His breathing becomes shallow, his heart hammering as he watches you.

You glance up at the camera, your eyes meeting his through the screen, and he swears you can see him. The connection feels almost tangible, like you’re right there in the room with him. You tilt your head slightly, giving the camera a knowing look before standing up and moving behind a decorative divider.

The chat goes wild, messages flying in faster than you can read them.

Yourmom69: OMG, this is everything!  

StarGazer88: She’s killing me!  

Retrofan23: I wanna bite into those calves!  

FrightenedFae: I’m gonna die from your beauty!!

You drape the robe over the divider, leaving you only in those tiny white shorts. Bakugou’s eyes narrow as he tries to catch a glimpse of you beyond the screen. He can feel his body tense up, his fists clenching and unclenching as he imagines what you’re doing just out of view. The way you casually reach for more lotion, the sound of your skin rubbing against the fabric, it’s all driving him crazy.

When you pick up your rob and finally emerge from behind the divider, your skin glistening, the chat erupts once again. The tips flood in, and you can’t help but smile at the overwhelming response.

Yourmom69: She’s glowing!  

StarGazer88: I can’t breathe!!  

GoldenSunset: Take all my money!  

FrightenedFae: I’m dead.  

Bakugou’s eyes stay locked on you as you move back to the bed, every movement slow and deliberate. The robe has slipped off one of your shoulders again, revealing just enough skin to make his pulse quicken. He’s never felt like this before, never been so captivated by someone, and it frustrates him how much he wants you.

His fingers tremble slightly as he picks up his phone, the desire to send you another message, another tip, burning in the back of his mind. He wants to be the one to spoil you, to have your attention, but he also wants more than just this screen between you.

As you settle back onto your bed, snuggling into your pillow, Bakugou feels a pang of jealousy. All these other viewers get to see this side of you, but he wants more. He wants to know you, to hold you, to be the one who makes you smile like that. 

He watches as you respond to the chat, your voice soft and teasing, your eyes sparkling with mischief. His heart aches with the realization that he’s falling for you, but for now, he’s content to just watch, to soak in every moment, and to dream of the day when he might have more than just pixels between you.

Bakugou blinked, realizing the time displayed on his tablet—1:00 AM. The fatigue was heavy in his body, but sleep still eluded him. He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the exhaustion tugging at him, but his mind was still racing, filled with thoughts of you.

Would you take a request without him sending any money? The idea felt ridiculous. He clenched his jaw, feeling the knots in his stomach tighten. Bakugou wasn't one to ask for favors, much less from someone he barely knew, but the thought nagged at him, refusing to let go. Before he could overthink it, he typed out a simple message and hit send, his heart pounding in his chest.

Back on your end, you were just getting settled back into your bed, the soft pillows cradling your head as you answered a few more questions from the chat. The tips had slowed down a bit, and the energy was starting to wind down as everyone began to relax with you. Your eyes skimmed over the messages, a soft smile playing on your lips as you responded.

 The chat is alive with comments and questions, but one message catches your eye.

Spiceman420: "I can't sleep. Can you help?"

Your heart goes out to the person behind the username. You understand what it feels like to struggle with sleep, especially when your mind won’t quiet down. You smile softly at the camera, your expression sympathetic. 

"Oh, I’m sorry to hear that you can’t sleep, Spiceman420," you say gently. "What can I do to help you out?"

The chat buzzes with activity as you wait for his response, your eyes scanning the messages flying in.

Yourmom69 : Aww, how sweet! LunarDreamer : She’s such a caring person! Retrofan23 : Maybe a bedtime story? FrightenedFae: Some soft music, maybe?

You glance back at the screen, waiting for Spiceman420 to reply, genuinely wanting to help him relax and find some peace.

On the other side of the screen, Bakugou feels his heart rate spike. He hadn’t expected you to notice his message so quickly, let alone respond so kindly. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and types out his request, hoping it isn’t too much to ask.

Your eyes light up as you see his next message pop up.

Spiceman420: "Could you maybe just talk for a bit? About anything."

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Of course, I can do that. Sometimes just hearing someone’s voice can be really soothing." You adjust your position on the bed, making yourself comfortable, and begin to speak, your voice gentle and calming.

"I’ll tell you about my day then," you start, settling in. "My bestie and I spent hours putting together some new furniture for my bedroom. It’s looking really cute now. I tried cooking some stir fry but ended up setting off the smoke alarm."

As you continue talking, you notice the chat reacting positively, your viewers appreciating the more personal glimpse into your life.

Bakugou leans back against his bed, his eyes closing as he listens to you. Your voice is soothing, a gentle lull that begins to ease the tension in his body. He can almost picture the room you’re describing, imagining the warmth and comfort of it.

You keep going, answering a few more questions from your viewers, occasionally glancing at the screen to see the messages coming in.

Yourmom69 : That sounds lovely! StarGazer88 : Can we see the room again sometime? Retrofan23 : I bet it looks amazing! FrightenedFae: I love pink sheets!

You smile, feeling a sense of connection with your audience. "Maybe I’ll do a room tour tomorrow," you say playfully. "But for now, let’s just relax together. Is there anything else you’d like to hear about, Spiceman420?"

You wait for his response, genuinely wanting to help him feel at ease, your voice continuing to be a soothing presence in the night. The chat immediately responded with supportive comments.

Yourmom69 : That’s so sweet of you! StarGazer88 : I love this idea! Retrofan23 : Spiceman’s lucky! VelvetRose: You’re such a sweetheart, helping everyone like this.

As you waited for Spiceman420’s response, you adjusted your robe, pulling it a bit tighter around you for comfort. The soft glow from the candles cast a warm light across your room, making the pink bedsheets look even more inviting. You shifted slightly on your bed, the plush mattress sinking just enough to cradle you comfortably.

Meanwhile, Bakugou was staring at his tablet, his heart thudding in his chest. He hadn't expected you to respond so quickly, or with so much warmth. He bit his lip, his fingers hovering over the screen as he considered what to say. Before he could overthink it, he typed a simple, “Whatever works for you” and hit send. He set his phone down on his lap, his leg bouncing slightly with restless energy as he waited.

Your eyes flicked to the screen, catching his response. A soft smile curled on your lips. "Alright, Spiceman," you said gently, your voice warm and soothing. "Let’s see what we can do."

Before you could continue, another notification pinged in the chat.

FrightenedFae just tipped $700.

Your eyes widened slightly, not at the amount—though it was generous—but at the message that came with it: 

"Can you talk like it’s a girlfriend audio? Something to help us all wind down?"

You glanced at the camera, a thoughtful look on your face. This wasn’t an uncommon request, but it was always a bit different depending on the person. You wanted to make sure Spiceman420 was comfortable with it, given the situation.

"Wow, thank you so much, FrightenedFae," you said, your voice genuine. "That’s really generous of you. I’ll definitely do that, but I want to make sure it's okay with Spiceman first." You looked directly into the camera, your expression softening. "Spiceman, would that be alright with you?"

Bakugou stared at the screen, feeling a strange mix of emotions. This wasn’t what he’d expected, but he found himself typing, "Yeah, go ahead."

He didn’t know why he was letting himself get so wrapped up in this, but there was something about your voice, your presence, that made him feel… calmer, more centered.

Seeing his response, you nodded. “Alright then, let’s do this.” You adjusted your position on the bed, reclining back against the pillows, and let your voice drop into a lower, smoother tone. There was a slight rasp to it, a warm, comforting quality that made it feel like you were right there beside him. It wasn’t sexual, but there was an intimacy to it that felt personal, genuine.

“Hey,” you began, your voice soft and soothing. “I know it’s late, and you’re probably feeling pretty tired, maybe even a little restless. But that’s okay. We’re gonna wind down together, alright? Just take a deep breath for me… and let it out slowly.” You inhaled and exhaled, bust moving with your gentle breaths. 

Bakugou’s eyes widened, his breath hitching in his throat. He found himself unconsciously following your instructions, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, his body already beginning to relax.

“Now,” you continued, “before you get too comfy, make sure you’ve got everything you need for the night. Did you drink some water? Maybe grab a little snack, something light. I don’t want you to go to bed hungry. And if you haven’t brushed your teeth yet, now’s a good time to do that too. Just take care of yourself, okay?”

The chat was going to kill your phone again.

Yourmom69 : I’m getting up right now, queen! StarGazer88 : You’re too good to us! Retrofan23 : I don’t wanna leave my bed, but I’ll do it for you! FrightenedFae: This is exactly what I needed tonight, thank you!

Bakugou’s mind was spinning. He felt ridiculous for actually considering getting up, but your voice had a way of making him want to do what you said. He let out a soft, resigned groan and pushed himself up from the bed. Grabbing a granola bar from his kitchen, he unwrapped it and took a bite, chewing slowly as he continued listening to you.

“Good job,” you praised, your voice dripping with warmth and encouragement. “Now, when you’re ready, get yourself back to bed. Make sure you’re comfortable, get under those covers, and just let your body relax. You’ve done everything you needed to today. It’s time to let yourself rest.”

Fuck it was like you could see him. 

Bakugou finished the granola bar and downed a glass of water, feeling oddly obedient as he brushed his teeth. He didn’t even know why he was listening to you, but something about the way you spoke made it easy to just… go along with it. Maybe if he tricked his body into following your advice, he’d finally be able to sleep.

As he climbed back into bed, he pulled his tablet closer, your stream still playing as he settled in. The tension in his chest had lessened, and for the first time that night, he felt like maybe, just maybe, sleep might actually come.

As you continued, fully embracing the role of a comforting presence, Bakugou found himself removing his shirt, the cool air brushing against his skin as he settled back into bed. He watched you intently, your voice still playing through his tablet as you lay down, adjusting the camera to a more intimate angle.

The chat was buzzing with questions, the most popular one catching your eye:

StarGazer88: Do you prefer to sleep with or without clothes?

A sly smile crossed your lips as you considered the question, your eyes glancing at the camera. "Without, if I'm being honest," you admitted with a playful tone. "But it really just depends on the night. I love sleeping with the fan on, so sometimes it can get pretty cold."

You gave the camera a knowing look before slipping off the bed, disappearing for a moment. The chat was alive with speculation, everyone trying to guess what you were up to. Bakugou leaned closer to his screen, his brows furrowing in curiosity.

When you returned, the sight made Bakugou almost sit up so quickly that he nearly hit his head on the bedframe. You were wearing an oversized "Ground Zero" t-shirt, the black fabric swallowing your frame, the iconic hero logo printed across your chest. It hung loosely on you, the hem almost reaching your thighs.

Bakugou’s heart skipped a beat. That shirt—his shirt—on you? It was like a punch to his gut, but in the best way possible. Seeing you wear something with his brand, something that represented him, made him feel something he hadn’t expected—possessiveness mixed with a strange, warm pride.

The chat erupted with excitement.

Yourmom69 : OMG that shirt is so cute on you! FrightenedFae : Look at that merch! Represent! Retrofan23 : Where can we get that shirt?! StarGazer88: Ground Zero fan confirmed!! 😍

You smiled sweetly at the comments, clearly enjoying the reaction. "It’s one of my favorites," you confessed, adjusting the shirt slightly as you crawled back onto your bed. "So comfy. And it’s perfect for nights like this."

Bakugou couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. Seeing you all dolled up at the club had been one thing, but this—this was different. It was intimate, personal. You looked so relaxed, so natural in his shirt, and it did something to him. He felt like he was seeing a side of you that no one else got to see, a softer, sweeter version that was a stark contrast to the poised, alluring figure you presented at the club.

You settled down onto the bed, placing your phone next to your pillow. Your voice dropped to a soft, soothing tone as you began to hum a quiet melody, something gentle and comforting. "You all are so sweet," you murmured, the warmth in your voice palpable. "Thank you so much for being here with me tonight, for all your tips, your kind words… I really appreciate it. Make sure to join me tomorrow, okay?"

Bakugou’s breath hitched as he watched you, his eyes glued to the screen. That shirt looked so oversized on you, making you seem so much smaller, so much more… his. He knew it was crazy, that it was just a piece of clothing, but seeing you in it felt like a special treat, a glimpse into something more personal.

He barely noticed the time slipping by, so captivated by the sight of you snuggled into your bed, wearing his merch, humming softly as if you were already half-asleep. It was so different from your usual stream persona—this was you, in your element, in your space. And for Bakugou, that made all the difference.

He clenched his fists, trying to steady the chaotic mix of emotions swirling inside him. There was something about this moment that made him want to be the only one watching, the only one who got to see you like this. It was irrational, possessive, but he couldn’t help it.

For now, though, he just let himself enjoy the sight of you in his shirt, knowing that this was something special—something he wanted to keep close, just for himself.

You continued to hum softly, your voice a gentle lullaby, Bakugou’s eyes grew heavier with each passing moment. He barely noticed the time slipping by as he lay back against his pillow, the cool night air from the open window brushing against his skin. The sound of your voice, warm and soothing, wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, lulling him into a peaceful state he hadn’t felt in a long time.

His tablet rested on his chest, the screen dimming as the stream continued. More than half the viewers had already given their final tips, sending heart emojis and sweet messages before quietly exiting the stream, thinking you were on the verge of sleep. Bakugou’s breath slowed, his eyes fluttering shut as your soft words continued to echo in his mind.

“Thank you for being here with me tonight,” you whispered, your voice barely audible now, like a quiet breeze. “Sleep well, everyone.”

Those last words drifted through his mind as he finally succumbed to his exhaustion. His breathing evened out, the tension in his body melting away as he drifted into sleep, your voice still playing softly in the background.

But what Bakugou didn’t see—what none of the remaining viewers saw—was the shadowed figure that appeared behind you. As you lay still on your bed, seemingly asleep, the figure leaned over, careful and deliberate. A hand reached out, gently grabbing your phone from the pillow.

The stream abruptly ended.

The screen on Bakugou’s tablet turned black, signaling the end of the broadcast. But he was already deep in sleep, oblivious to what had just happened, lost in a dream where your voice was the only thing that mattered.

In the dark room, the figure stepped back, the phone in hand, as the glow from the screen faded into nothingness.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie If you wanna be added lemme know!

Chapter 1 is here Chapter 2 is here.

Chapter 3 is here

That was the first chapter! So far there are 9 posted on my ao3 account.

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[slayfics]

Pillow talk with Obanai.

Warnings: Obanai backstory spoilers

Song: Good Enough by Gap Girls.

You turned over in bed struggling to get comfortable. Tonight seemed to be a struggle to put your mind at ease and get some sleep. You found yourself lost in fantasies of what it would be like to have a normal life. One where demons didn't exist and there wasn't a need for you and those you loved to risk their lives daily to slay them. 

You ran your hands through your hair trying to bring yourself back to your senses and get some rest. Losing sleep over fantasies wasn't going to help anyone.

It was then you heard Obanai stir next to you, he appeared to be having a hard time sleeping as well.

"Are you awake?" You whispered to the Hashira.

"Mhm~" he mumbled, sleepily facing the opposite direction.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" You said in a voice just above a whisper.

Obanai stirred again, the thought of divulging personal information always made him nervous. Yet he could never find it in himself to deny you of anything.

"Yeah," he answered back, still facing away from you as he was nervous to hear your following question.

"What do you think your life would be like if demons didn't exist?"

"I've never thought about it," Obanai answered truthfully. Being born into a clan that sacrificed others to demons for their own gain, Obanai never once had a blissful moment without knowing of the existence of demons. A life without demons seemed entirely out of reach, even in dreams to him. His whole existence had been built around demons and his motivation to slay them.

"Oh come on, humor me for one moment. What would your fantasy life have looked like if you were born into a world without demons?" You asked the Hashira.

Obanai stayed silent for a moment as he thought. As hard as he tried to imagine, no other life felt right. Even in his wildest imagination, it felt off.

After searching himself for a few moments he finally found his answer, "Who needs fairytales of what could be when I lay with the goddess." Obanai said turning over to face you.

You felt frozen, unsure of how to respond to such a passionate answer.

"If demons didn't exist, I never would have met you, would I?" Obanai asked.

"I suppose not," you agreed with the Hashira.

"To fantasize about anything other than being here with you, does not interest me," He said, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Your cheeks suddenly felt hot as you gazed into his eyes and found nothing but deep devotion. "Surely, you've imagined at least once a different life." You spoke, still stunned by the Hashria's response.

"I would relive this life countless times if it always brought me on the path to you," He spoke with such fierceness you didn't dare to question him.

You felt tears begin to swell in your eyes at the strength of his devotion to you. Obanai's eyes met yours and the intensity held in them left you breathless.

"I would relive my past a thousand times and fight however many demons I need to just to be certain I’d live alongside you. However much pain I’ve endured from my past, your love is good enough for me. To wish for anything more would be foolish.” He said bringing his lips to yours.

Shout out to @snowmist-hashira for hyping me up after I feverishly re-wrote this fic feeling as though it wasn’t good enough.

[geotjwrs]

Can u do a Jenna Ortega x Male reader singer (Maybe music from Frank ocean or Tyler?🤷🏾‍♂️)

ivy

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; angsty

Note ; hello everyone since i'm getting a lot of requests lately, i just want to clear to you that i'm slowing down the updates first since i can't think that many of the scenarios i'm mostly receiving smut requests and i'm having a hard time to write some so i hope you understand. please don't rush me with your requests I'll update as soon as possible if i have plenty of time to write tysm!

The city lights of Los Angeles twinkled below as Jenna Ortega stood on the balcony of her apartment, the cool night air doing little to soothe her frayed nerves. Inside, Y/N paced back and forth, frustration etched on his face. They had been arguing for what felt like hours, their once warm and loving home now filled with tension.

“Jenna, you know I have to go on tour. This is my career we’re talking about!” Y/N’s voice was strained, his hands running through his hair in exasperation.

“And what about us?” Jenna shot back, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “You’re always on the road, always busy. When do we get time for us?”

Y/N stopped pacing and faced her, his expression softening for a moment. “I love you, Jenna. But I can’t just give up on my dreams. You knew this was part of the deal when we started dating.”

Jenna’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of her. “I know, but it feels like I’m losing you to your career. We barely see each other anymore.”

Y/N stepped closer, reaching out to touch her arm. “I’m trying, Jenna. But it’s hard to balance everything.”

She pulled away, shaking her head. “Maybe it’s not meant to be. Maybe we’re just too different.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Y/N’s face fell, and he knew deep down that she was right. They had grown apart, their lives pulling them in different directions. The realization was painful, but it was the truth.

“Is this it, then?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jenna looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I think it has to be. For both our sakes.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Y/N nodded slowly, accepting the inevitable. He walked past her, pausing at the door. “I’ll always love you, Jenna. But maybe we need to let go to find ourselves again.”

Jenna closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I love you too, Y/N. Goodbye.”

With that, he left, closing the door softly behind him. Jenna sank to the floor, her heart breaking as the reality of their breakup set in. The apartment felt emptier than ever, the echoes of their love lingering like ghosts.

Months passed, and life moved on. Jenna threw herself into her work, trying to fill the void Y/N had left. But no matter how busy she kept herself, she couldn’t escape the memories of their time together. She missed him terribly, but she knew they had made the right decision.

One night, while scrolling through her phone, Jenna came across a notification for Y/N’s upcoming concert. Despite everything, she couldn’t resist tuning in. The livestream showed a packed venue, the crowd buzzing with excitement as Y/N took the stage.

“Good evening, everyone,” Y/N’s voice echoed through the speakers. “Tonight, I have something special to share with you. This is a new song I wrote called ‘Ivy.’ It’s about someone who was very important to me, someone I loved deeply.”

Jenna’s heart clenched as she listened. She knew this song was about their relationship, about the love and heartbreak they had experienced. Y/N began to play, the soft, haunting melody filling the room. His voice, rich and emotional, carried the weight of their shared history.

I thought that I was dreaming when you said you loved me the start of nothing, I had no chance to prepare I couldn’t see you coming…

Flashback

It had been a particularly difficult day on set for Jenna. She was exhausted, emotionally drained from the intense scenes she’d filmed. She came home hoping to find solace in Y/N’s arms, but he was busy with his own work, preparing for his upcoming tour.

“Y/N, I really need to talk to you,” Jenna said, her voice weary as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

He looked up from his laptop, concern flickering in his eyes. “What’s wrong, Jenna?”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s just… everything feels overwhelming. I feel like I’m constantly juggling my career and our relationship, and I’m not sure if I’m doing a good job at either.”

Y/N got up and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. “I know it’s hard, Jenna. But we’re in this together. We’ll figure it out.”

Jenna buried her face in his chest, trying to draw strength from his presence. But even as he held her, she couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness that had been creeping in. “Do you really believe that? Because sometimes it feels like we’re drifting apart.”

He pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes. “Jenna, I love you. But we both have demanding careers. We knew it wouldn’t be easy.”

Flashback ended

Jenna found herself back in her apartment, tears streaming down her face. The song continued, Y/N’s voice filled with raw emotion as he sang about the love they had lost:

We’ll never be those kids again the streetlights in the middle of your back I wish I could go back to when I was just a boy staring at my bedroom ceiling

The chorus hit harder, a reminder of the love they had shared and lost. Jenna’s tears flowed freely, the song cutting deep into her soul.

Ivy’s in my life until the end of time it's part of the plan to just keep me by your side

The audience was captivated, many moved to tears by the raw vulnerability of the performance. Y/N poured his heart out, every word a testament to the love he had lost.

As the song ended, Y/N looked out into the crowd, his expression a mix of sadness and acceptance. “Thank you,” he said, his voice trembling. “This song means a lot to me, and I’m grateful to have been able to share it with you tonight.”

Jenna closed her laptop, her heart heavy yet oddly at peace. She knew that both she and Y/N would always carry a piece of each other, no matter where life took them. Their love story, though brief, had left an indelible mark on their souls.

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Don’t Let It In - Jake Kiszka AU

A/N: Demon!Jake alternate universe because… it’s all I could think of thanks to this song. I’ve kinda put my own spin on what an incubus can do. Some of this I really just went with as I wrote. I am so excited to give y’all this one. It was wayyy too much fun to write. I love you all so much <;3

WARNINGS: 18+ minors DNI! This definitely may not be everyone’s cup of tea!! Demon!Jake, brief talk of being dead, soft!dom Jake, fingering, oral (fem receiving), choking, multiple orgasms/forced orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex.

MASTERLIST

••••

There it was again. That out of place, unexplainable, sound coming from the other room, forcing eerie chills to shoot through you.

It was only you in the apartment and had been for months now. So you thought…

Random noises had been putting you on edge for weeks now. You never found their sources, or anything that may debunk their origins.

You laid in bed, trying to just brush it off. In your mind, there was no point in dwelling on what was probably just a wall or floorboard creaking, or maybe even your neighbors.

Then it happened again, but twice as loud. It was absolutely not a natural noise in the slightest and it was far too loud for you to believe it came from one of the surrounding apartments.

All of the color in your face was surely draining as you tossed the blankets off of your body. You didn’t have much of a choice but to go scope it out, so that’s what you did.

You worked your way slowly down the hallway first, flicking on every light as you went.

Nothing.

The living room was next. You flicked all of those lights on and looked around…still nothing.

Your kitchen and little laundry room were the only place left to look.

Slipping around the corner, you switched on the light and were met with yet another vacant room.

You blew out a defeated, frightened and confused huff, glancing around dumbfounded. That unsettling feeling was still sitting heavy in your gut and not finding the culprit of the noises was just making it worse.

Trying to push the feeling away, you opened up the fridge and reached in for a bottle of water.

“Mind grabbing me one too, while you’re at it?”

The voice belonging to a man sent you crashing into the floor, condiments and such that were sitting in the door of the fridge, crashed down on top of you as you fell - startled and absolutely horrified.

In the blink of an eye, he was in front of you, extending a beautiful hand down to you.

“Who… who the fuck are you?” you asked, barely getting the words out at all. “Get the fuck away from me,” you didn’t even let him answer before you were hissing the words at him.

“I’m Jake,” he smirked - a beautiful and intoxicating smirk. You couldn’t help but stare at his face, entranced beyond comprehension. He pushed his hand closer to you again, silently encouraging you to take it. “And I’ve been here for a while. Nice of you to finally notice.”

You glared at his hand, pushing yourself up from the floor on your own and slowly closing the refrigerator door.

“I would highly recommend getting the fuck out of my apartment,” the words were like pure venom. You didn’t even sound like yourself. “I already called the cops.”

You hadn’t really… yet, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You really want me out?” he asked you smugly, as though you’d be missing out on something spectacular if he left.

“Yes! Get. The fuck. out!” you said again, raising your voice a little louder.

“Okay.” His shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug, and then he was gone.

You froze in your spot, eyes flicking around frantically. Your brain couldn’t process what had just happened and you started to get hot, feeling as though you were losing every bit of your mind.

The rush of heat, quickly followed by intense chills made your body tremble.

Maybe it was just the wine I had earlier, you thought to yourself. Even still, that was hours ago. There was no way in hell that any of that madness was the product of a little white wine.

In light of trying to calm your nerves, you went back to your bedroom and stripped down from your clothes, figuring a cold shower might help you feel… something. Anything other than the fear surging through you.

You cut on the water, turning the knob as cold as it would go and stepped in. A groan of discomfort erupted from you, the cold temperature sending an unpleasant aching feeling through your body.

But it wasn’t enough. There was still a burning feeling inside you that wouldn’t go away. It felt like… raging need. Something so insatiable that it might drive you to insanity if it didn’t go away soon.

Your nipples grew painfully hard as you stood underneath the freezing water.

You turned around and turned around again. No matter how long you stayed under the streams of water, it did nothing.

A dull ache formed between your legs; so intense you were afraid you might crumble to the floor of the shower.

“Have you had enough yet?”

There he was. His voice filled the small bathroom with ease, low and raspy. You could see nothing but his shadow through the glass shower door.

You gasped loudly, clutching onto your chest with your hand. Fighting to catch your breath, you crouched down in the shower.

After a minute, you - unwisely - slid the glass door open.

There he was, fully clothed, leaning up against the sink with that smirk that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, no matter how badly you wanted to. He stared at you for a moment before pushing away from the counter.

As he stepped closer, you moved back - until you were trapped in the corner of the shower, where you sank down to the floor and pulled your knees to your chest with your face buried into them.

“Oh, beautiful girl,” He cooed softly, voice smooth as a silken breeze. His finger, warm and gentle, tucked itself beneath your chin. “Don’t be scared.”

“Don’t. Touch me.” You pulled your face away, avoiding his mischievous and lust filled eyes.

“I don’t have to.” A soft laugh trots out of him, warming your body up again despite the freezing water still falling from above you. “See?”

His finger retreated from your chin - that debilitating, throbbing between your legs replacing it instantaneously.

Your body tensed and burned, a pitiful whine fluttering out of you as the throbbing slowly grew more and more intense.

“You sound so beautiful.” Jake purred, watching you intently. “It’s driving you crazy, isn’t it?” His hand traced up the muscle of you calf, pushing your leg down when his hand reached just above your knee. His hand continued upwards, tracing over your lips with a featherlight touch. “That feeling right here…”

You wanted to scream and cry and fight him. Shove him away with every ounce of your being. His touch was just so addicting... Against every sane part of your mind, you didn’t fight him.

“Please…” You whimpered, eyes closed tightly and arms still clung around your upper body.

“Please,” He mimicked you, a sickeningly playful edge to his voice. “Don’t you know better, darling? Don’t you know if you let me in, I’ll just keep coming back for more and more?”

“Take me, then.” You begged boldly, slowly mustering up the courage to look up at him. “Just take me.”

“Oh, no, darling.” Jake shook his head, that smirk coming back to play once again. “I could never take you from here. You’re far too beautiful…” His hand is suddenly grazing the softness of your cheek. “But i’ll have my fun with you…until i’ve had enough.”

Jake reached up, turning the knob to shut off the water. He hauled you up in his arms far too easily, carrying you out of the shower and back into your bedroom.

“So… so you’re not gonna hurt me…?”

A scoff shook out of him, as though he was slightly offended by your question. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have already.”

“How comforting.” You uttered against better judgement.

Jake stopped in his tracks, staring down at you with blackened eyes. Your body exploded with a new sensation, like some sort of controlled, overly-powerful, never ending, orgasm of some sort.

Your head fell back over his arm, your mouth hanging open - feeling paralyzed by the pleasure he was sending through you without remorse. You could feel your lungs trying to force out some sort of noise, a plea, anything.

“I would highly suggest you use some fucking sense when you speak to me.” Jake laughed darkly. He stared down at you in amusement, watching you aimlessly struggle to gain control of your own body in his arms.

Finally, he stopped. You sucked in a strangled gasp, fighting to refill your lungs with air as your body fell limp in his arms.

“I… I’m sorry…” you panted, releasing your death grip on his shirt as he eased you down on the bed. “How… How do you do that?”

Jake tilted his head to the side, acting as though he didn’t know what you were asking about - even though he definitely did.

“How do I do what, darling?” he asked, climbing over top of your naked body.

“How can you make me feel things without touching me?” Your heart pounded against your ribcage, eyes fixed on his mouth where that beautiful smirk was residing once again.

He moved to sit between your parted legs, resting his weight back on the heels of his feet.

“When you’re dead, you can do whatever it is that you want,” Jake answered. “I just so happen to find joy in making pretty girls cum over and over, until they’re screaming and crying for just a sliver of my mercy.” He shrugged as if he was speaking the most casual words you’d ever hear in your life.

You stared at him, unable to form a single coherent thought in your mind. He was far too beautiful to be scared of and you were silently kicking yourself for wanting to drop your whole life, and let him take you wherever he so pleased.

His hands splayed over the bones of your shins, trailing them up slowly until they reached your thighs.

“I will say, you’re the first one that’s not put up much of a fight...” Jake’s observation seemed to intrigue him, judging by the curious expression and tilt of his head.

One of his hands traced farther up your thigh and glided over your hip and lower belly, eliciting a short burst of a tremble. His smirk widened then, watching your skin quiver and form goosebumps beneath his featherlight touch.

“Pretty girl,” he cooed, smiling at the way your eyes fluttered closed at his words. “Such a sensitive little thing. I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

“Please,” you quietly begged, pressing your body into his touch.

“Hold it, angel…” Jake’s hand traced up your sternum, his body starting to lean over yours as he stretched his arm. “It’s far too early to be begging.”

His other hand cupped itself over your dripping core, cradling it as he continued to explore the rest of your body with his other hand. His lips, warm and plush, connected with your belly, kissing and biting gently at the soft skin.

Your body reacted so intensely to him. The wetness leaking out of you was surely pooling in his hand as he held it over you. Anywhere his hands or mouth touched, burned and tingled in their wake. He was making your heart flutter and pound erratically, light whimpers fluttering out of you on nearly every exhale of breath.

“You’re so worked up already, aren’t you, angel?” he taunted, pulling his hand away from your core. “Look at that,”

You lifted your head, eyes landing on his pretty hand where - just as you had guessed - your own juices had just barely pooled.

“You’re a needy thing, huh?” Jake raised an eyebrow down at you, staring down at you in the most degrading way imaginable.

“Jake-“

“-Shhh…” he hushed you immediately, bringing his hand up to your mouth. “Taste yourself, darling. I bet you’ve never done that, have you?”

“Not… not in a while,” you admitted, cautiously taking his wrist in your hand to pull his hand a little closer.

You gently glided your tongue over his fingers and palm, tasting the sweetness of yourself off of them.

“Atta girl.” He watched you intently, smiling at the way you hummed against his skin.

“Don’t be greedy,” he spoke, pulling his hand away.

Jake slid his own fingers into his mouth slowly, holding your gaze as he did so. A whine bursts out of you, watching him taste you sending a new rush of wetness to your heat.

“Kiss me,” you begged with an urgency, reaching up to pull his as close as you could get him.

“Ah-” Jake stopped your movements. “-Don’t you know better?” he asked, taking your jaw and tilting your head to the side, attaching his lips to your neck in a few spots. “If I kiss you, that will be your soul. I won’t be able to let go… neither will you. You’ll be damned to hell with me if you let me in like that.”

“I don’t care,” you insisted. “Just take me. Take me, please?”

“Did I not tell you already?” Jake growled firmly, turning your head back to look you in the eyes. “You’re. Too pretty. To take. And I won’t tell you that again.”

His grip moved from your jaw to your throat, his other shooting between your legs to your core.

“You won’t want to come with me after I’m done with you, anyway,” Jake assured you, a cockiness suddenly playing around in his tone. His index and middle fingers connected with your clit, he didn’t move them, but kept a firm pressure against the sensitive bud. “Once i’ve drained you of everything you could possibly give me and then some.”

You squirmed against his fingers, your clit throbbing incessantly against the pressure he was keeping pressed into it.

That pressure in the pit of your stomach that he was making you rapidly too familiar with, started to spring to life. The harder you writhed, the firmer his hand around your throat became.

“Don’t be afraid of it, sweet girl.” Jake slowly started to circle his fingers, even though he knew could make you cum without doing so. “Just let me make you cum. Can you do that? Let me make this pretty pussy cum for me over and over?”

“Jake, Jake, oh god Jake,” his name was like a chant leaving your lips.

“Yeah, there you go…” Jake’s hand retreated from your neck, sliding his arm underneath your back to cradle you to him. “Say my name again, pretty girl. Sounds so good coming from you.”

“Jake, please, it feels so- it’s-“

“Yeah? Feels so good?” Jake taunted, dipping his head down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. “Aww, I know it does, angel.”

“Oh god, oh my god, i-“ your voice broke as loud whine ripped it’s a way out of you.

Your body unfolded right then at Jake’s will, the power of the orgasm unlike anything that a human could ever make you feel.

Your hand flew down to Jake’s wrist, clinging to it for dear life.

“Fuck Jake, I can’t - stop,” you whimpered breathlessly, fighting with the overstimulation cursing through your whole body. “Jake!”

“Uh uh, baby.” Jake slid his arm out from under your back, taking both of your wrists in his now free hand and pinning them above your head. “Don’t fight me, give me another one.”

You felt one of his fingers sink into your entrance, mind altering confusion taking over your brain as you still felt the debilitating pressure of his fingers over your clit.

Jake noticed your look of utter shock, a pleased grin pulling at his lips.

“Neat little trick, isn’t it, angel?” he asked smugly, pushing in a second finger to join in with the first.

Your mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into your head like you were being possessed. In a way, you figured you mind of were being possessed.

Jake’s face mimicked yours in the most heart stopping, mocking way imaginable. The smile that formed just after watching your cheeks blaze red, yielded the same mocking aura.

“Such a gorgeous face,” Jake purred, eyes scanning over your features attentively. “Could look at it forever.”

“Don’t say that to me,” you pleaded, severely disliking the way he was making you feel - only to leave you with his likely painful absence soon enough.

“I’m just telling you what I see,” Jake stated.

“Don’t talk to me- like that-“ you choked out, back arching away from the bed with a particular curl of his fingers.

“Fuck, Jake!”

“Remember what I said earlier?” Jake asked cooly, staring down at you with black eyes like he had done before. “When I said to watch how you speak to me? Yeah, that wasn’t a suggestion.”

A wail of pleasure erupted from you. That suffocating feeling of intense pleasure that he had placed over you in the shower, and as he carried you to the bed, took over your body again. You felt your sanity crumbling, just out of your reach to try and save it from crashing to the ground.

You clenched and fluttered around his ungodly, skilled fingers. The haunting touch that remained over your clit, throwing you headfirst into another orgasm.

“Ugh- Jake…” your voice croaked out, barely above an audible level.

Jake ignored you, curling his fingers into that sweet spot inside you and holding them there.

A squeal bounced off the walls of your room, your body jolting so hard you managed to slip one of your arms from his grip above your head.

“Alright, alright,” Jake relented with a dark chuckle. “I’ll give you a break, little angel.”

Jake’s idea of a break and your idea of a break, were obviously extremely different.

He removed his fingers from you, leaving your fluttering pussy and overstimulated clit to rest for a bit. Bringing his drenched fingers to his mouth, he sucked them clean once again with a low, satisfied hum. It made you wonder how his mouth would feel.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get that too,” Jake smirked, reading your mind loud and clear. “I would be a fool to leave here without tasting you first.”

The mention of his impending departure sent a pang of tightness through your chest. You would never have enough of him. You never wanted to reach the point of having had ‘enough.’

You laid against the blankets of your bed, already spent and drained to an unthinkable degree. Yet, it was clear he wasn’t quite done with your poor body.

Jake had fallen eerily quiet, transfixed on your chest. He was contemplating something, but what, you weren’t sure.

His eyes flicked up to yours with a mischievous and unnerving glint in them. He moved to lay over top of you, a firm hand on your sides, his face coming perfectly level with your breasts.

“Let’s have some more fun now, yeah?” Jake flashed you the quickest wink. It was posed as a question, but you new you didn’t exactly have a choice.

His mouth, warm and soft, wrapped around your left nipple. His tongue teased over it, delivering deliberate and firm flicks of his tongue.

Your body succumbed to a new type of pleasure, starting in a whole new place and pushing outward throughout the rest of you.

Jake pulled away, eyes darting up to yours that watched him.

“Ooh, she likes that.”

“Mhm,” you hummed softly, nodding down at him. “Please, more Jake.”

“More?” Jake echoed the word back, kissing around your nipple, teasingly avoiding it. Then, he finally let you in on what he must have been thinking not long before.

“Think you can come for me just from this?” Jake sucked your right nipple into his mouth this time, only for a second before letting it go with a soft pop. “From me playing with these?”

“I don’t… I… no?” You stumbled to find an answer. You didn’t really know if it was possible.

“That was a trick question, darling.” Jake giggled, squeezing your sides roughly. “I can make you cum however I want.”

“I can’t- I don’t know if I can again,” you sighed. Your mind naively still believing that there had to be limits to what he could make your body do.

You just knew there had to be… But there weren’t.

“It’s endearing, really-” Jake huffed a laugh, sliding his hands straight up to cup each side of your breasts. “-how fucked out you are already. Nothing I say is getting absorbed in that pretty head of yours at all.”

His mouth reconnected with one of your nipples, paying it his undivided attention like it was all he knew.

Little noises bubbled out of you as he worked his magic over you - quite literally in some sense.

In light of not wanting the other to be left out and wanting to see how your body reactions, Jake took your other nipple between his thumb an index finger, pinching and tugging and rolling it. Completely out of your control, your chest pressed into him and a squeak of a noise slipped from you.

The tightening between your legs felt so out of place - considering there was no attention being given to that area of your body.

“Jake…?” you squeaked out, somehow sounding like a question.

A soft, “hmm?” was all he offered you.

You were too focused on the strange sensation building inside you, to even recall what you even spoke his name for - other than it was slowly becoming the only thing your brain could remember.

It felt so similar to that of a normal orgasm, but so different all at once.

Jake switched his mouth to the other nipple, his hand quickly replacing his mouth on the one he’d just abandoned.

“You feel that?” he asked quickly, before bringing your nipple back into his mouth. “You gonna cum all pretty for me?”

“Shit, yes-” You sunk one hand into his hair, the other fisting the silk of his shirt. “-I felt it, I feel it. I’m gonna-”

The new kind of orgasm took over you body in the blink of an eye, washing over you with a different kind of intensity all together.

“Jake, please! Jake,” you cried, feeling as though you had little to no control over your body anymore.

Jake released your nipples from his mouth and fingers, but began a trail of hot kisses down your abdomen and lower belly. He was steadily working his way back down, to the part of your body that you wanted him to stay far away from and focus solely on all at once.

“No, no, no, nononono,” you babbled, nearly incomprehensible. Your hand still in his hair tugged roughly, trying to jerk him away from your body. “Please, no more, Jake. No more.”

“‘No more, Jake, no more’,” he shot back in a whiny tone, closely resembling yours. “You’re such a whiny fuckin’ thing. Have I told you that yet, angel?”

“No…” you answered weakly, swallowing down a sob as he placed a kiss over your slick folds.

“Just a couple more, sweet little angel,” he said it like a promise. “Just-“ he placed another kiss over your clit. “-a couple-“ pausing once more, he flicked his tongue over it. “-more.”

Jake’s arms wrapped themselves around your thighs, holding you against his face as he began to teasingly work over your heat with his skilled tongue. No matter how much you tried to buck and jerk your hips away, it proved useless. His grip was far stronger than anything you could ever go up against, even on one of your strongest days.

His mouth brought you closer and closer by the second, coaxing that raging fire in the deepest part of you that should have long fizzled out already. Not on his watch though. That delicious, burning ache inside you was drawing out the prettiest sounds his ears had ever been graced by.

Your sounds grew louder and louder, another erupting from your lungs before the first sound could even stop echoing around the room - creating some sort of obscene harmony of moans.

“God, you sound so beautiful when you’re close,” Jake groaned against you, dull nails digging crescent moons into your hips. “Why would I ever want to stop making you cum?”

A glass shattering scream erupted from deep within you, your body arching and thrashing around unceremoniously. Your eyes were screwed so tightly shut, it was dangerously close to giving you a headache.

Sob after sob of merciless pleasure shook out of your lungs, all while Jake’s low laugh vibrated against you.

Even after Jake’s mouth had left your core to momentarily rest, soft sobs continued to shudder out of you. Thanks to your eyes still being closed, hot tears pouring from the edges like there was a broken seal, you didn’t notice his eyes soften for the split second that they had.

“Poor thing,” Jake spoke softly. He let go of your legs and you felt his weight shift, the back of his hand suddenly stroking the tears from your cheeks.

You tried your best to ignore the fake sympathy it was drenched in, despite the softness of which the two little words were spoken.

“Open those eyes, pretty girl,” Jake commanded gently. “C’mon.”

You opened your eyes for him, trying to blink away the remaining tears. Once your vision cleared, your eyes widened and unashamedly drank in Jake’s now naked body.

“There they are,” Jake smirked down at you, taking immediate notice of your gawking. “You still with me? Kinda…?”

“I’m breathing,” you mumbled dryly, drawing a genuine giggle from him.

Fighting to find the words, you continued. “Still want you to fuck me. Please…”

“I’ve drained you of nearly everything you have and you still want me to fuck you?” Jake grinned, dipping his head down to kiss along your collarbone.

“You’re going to anyway,” you said matter-of-factly.

Jake huffed a laugh into your neck at your astute observation. “Well… yeah. But you want me to.”

“…M’not ready for you to go yet…” you admitted quietly, hesitation clear in your voice.

“Not gonna leave you yet, angel,” he assured you, carefully lining himself up at your entrance.

Jake pushed himself in slowly, cursing along with you as he stretched you out. He made pain feel so delightful, pain was starting to not even register as pain anymore.

“God damnit, you feel so fucking good,” Jake rasped out, planting his hands on either side of your head. “Been waiting to do this for so long.”

“How- fuck, Jake-“ you struggled to get the words out through your moans. “-How long have you- been here?”

“A long time, angel,” Jake answered simply. “Long time.”

It was unsettling to say the least, but you were too lost in the otherworldly pleasure of Jake’s cock sharply thrusting into you to care, or spend too much time dwelling on it.

Each of his thrust sent shock waves through your body; from your core, out to your toes, to the tips of each of your fingers.

The moans coming from you both mixed together, tangling in the air in their own little lust-drunken dance.

Your hands clawed at the backs of Jake’s shoulders, fighting the urge to force him down on top of you and crash your lips into his. That’s all you could think about… just one kiss.

One kiss was all you needed. All you wanted.

Jake dropped down to one of his forearms, his other hand snaking between your two flaming bodies to connect with your clit.

“Ah, Jake- just- just cum without me, please,” your voice strained as you begged him. “Please, Jake, please!”

“Shut up and cum with me,” Jake commanded, bending your body to his every will and command yet again.

You unwisely fought with your own body, holding off your orgasm until Jake was starting to fall just over his own edge.

Jumping at his moment of weakness, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and used every bit of energy you had left to pull yourself up and connect your lips with his.

“Fuck!” Jake all but yelled against your lips, but couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

Your own mind-numbing orgasm swallowed you up not even seconds later. You sent moan and cry, after moan and cry into Jake’s mouth.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” Jake sighed exasperatedly, trying to stable himself from his high - all while trying to process what you’ve done.

“I needed it,” you breathed out.

“You needed to kiss me more than you needed to live?” Jake chided lightly, glaring down at you. “I told you, you’re too pretty for me to take…”

“What? Am I dead now?” You questioned, far less panicked than you had expected to be.

“Not… not exactly,” Jake sighed. “We’re tied…” his hand slid up your throat to your jaw, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Which means eventually, I’ll become so obsessed with you, that I have no choice but to drag you to hell with me.”

@shutupdevvie @jake-kiszkas-smirk @belovedsamuel @gardensgatedaisy @ageofbarbarians @theweightofjake @theweightofstardust @stardustndreamsofgold @positivegvfthings @gretasmokerising @jordierama @jordie-gvf @juliensbakery @doodle417 @gvfpal @gretavanbitches @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @asparrowofthedawn @greta-van-chaos @skankforjakekiszka @sarakay-gvf @teddiie @colorstreammind @ofburningskies @of-infinite-wonders @why-ami-on-here @lunaindigoraven @samkooszka @mamavanheat @rhythm-of-space @ascendingtostardust @laurenlovesgretavanfleet

[fillinforlater]

WICKED LOVER

Female Reader x Choi Yena

Length: 2791 words

Tags: intense dancing, very hot choreography, wicked love, lesbian sex, rough sex, finger fucking, clit stimulation, face sitting, abs worship, marking, scratches, a bit of shaming, mentions of toxic relationships, freaky kinks, wicked_lover!Yena / dancer!You

TW: mentions of blood by scratches + toxic relationships; I guess shaming

Inspiration: "WICKED LOVE" by Yena, especially the Dance Practice (I have watched it like 30 times for this fic, fuuuuuuck)

(A/N: female reader bfh that came out of nowhere. Yena had no business being this freaky for her pre-release. (BTW: the title of her actual title track is also quite inspiring...))

“You are going to do the part during the bridge with me.”

Rumor has it that Yena had a break-up before writing this song. Although it has not leaked out into the general public, the message of the song should even get the most delusional or densest fans thinking. However, inside the company building, everyone knows that there's more to the story. 

Yena’s relationship was wild, toxic and violent. She and her lover grew from being extremely close and intimate, something the company struggled to hide, to avoiding each other because of the drama that would unfold if they locked eyes. Somehow, they still found ways to make up, but after a few months nothing could salvage this relationship anymore.

As a dancer who regularly works for the same label as Yena, you remember passing Yena’s studio and hearing the vile insults they would throw at each other, audible even through the thick walls. An hour later you’d pass the same door and hear her  moans and screams of pleasure. You never dared to peek inside; it would have fueled your envy.

“S-sure,” you answer the imposing idol standing in the midst of the dance practice room, surrounded by dancers just like you who had hoped to be assigned the same part. “I’ll give it my all.”

“Stay after the main practice,” Yena adds in the same stern, professional tone. “I might want to change it up a bit.”

You lock eyes with her through the mirror and nod. The perfect length for eye contact is supposed to be 3.3 seconds, but why is it that Yena makes you weak in less than half of that? If you’d really focused on her for 3.3 seconds, you’d lose your footing and would have to admit that there was more than adoration for her success and (not anymore) adorable visuals. 

Through all the curses you’ve heard her scream when there are no cameras, through the rumors of her leaving scratches all over her former lover's face, through the thought of her maybe being the more toxic partner, you’ve continuously grown more obsessed with Yena. You are not better than all those delusional fans out there.

Well, you might not be better, but you are a lot closer now. The rest of the dancers have left the room. The track is still in loop, so you and Yena continue to dance as if it was a normal practice up until the bridge. Luckily, dancing always pulls you into a powerful trance in which you can escape the hold Yena has on your fragile heart. Even when the two of you are close to each other, even when her hands are on your body, hell, even when she tears off your top, the music keeps you going. 

However, it’s a lot different now. 

During the first part of the choreo, Yena positions herself and you do a couple of quick movements around her. Then the two of you start facing each other, showing off something like an intimate fight before smoothly switching to the finale where Yena circles your body with her arms three times—untils she rips the black top apart. 

The moment you start to face Yena, you can see or rather feel how the choreo has changed. Yena is a lot closer, she is literally pressing her chest into yours and moves her knee up to reach your core in between your legs. Doing the hand motions becomes difficult, especially Yena continues to have this dull, bored expression on her face, like it’s just practice. 

Yena’s cheek really touches the palm of your hand and you almost forget to continue, your spin out of her imminent reach is amateur-like. You almost stumble when Yena gets on one knee, grabs your lower leg, quickly brushes up your body to grab your waist and then, with perfect timing, destroys your top with a single pull. 

The tatters fall from your chest, shoulders, arms. Your breath is heavy and your face is red—not due to dancing anymore. Without a care in the world, Yena hurries towards her phone and stops the music. 

“What do you think?” Yena asks, her hands on her hips, her breaths deep, her eyes a bit softer. “Are these changes good?”

You’re frozen in the final pose. The white crop-top with its spaghetti strings suddenly feels too revealing, so you hide yourself with both your arms, unable to truly understand what just occurred.

“Uhm, I-I think it’s good. It adds to the, uhm, intensity of the br-bridge?” you ask, hair and words in a mess, then your heartbeat as well when Yena approaches you again, the track already booming once more.

“I think so as well,” she whispers. “Let’s try it again.”

The two of you get in position. When your muscle memory kicks in, you remember that she just shredded the top and now you’re more exposed and vulnerable to her than ever before. But it’s too late to change it now, the bridge has already started. 

This time, Yena is even bolder. Her face seems to go in for a kiss during the second part before she pushes you away and then pulls you back in with her aura, her scent for the finale, which is now way too intimate. From your leg, her hand intentionally rubs over your folds, then grabs the hem of your baggy pants to slightly tug them down and the moment you shoot your hand up to leave your backside wide open, Yena—

“Ah, fuck!”

You scream out in pain. Yena’s painted nails pierce into your skin and mercilessly dig through it up to your neck. You throw your head back as you feel tiny veins burst and droplets of blood leak out of the fresh wounds. Sink into Yena whose arms have not yet left your nape.

“What about this?” she asks with a lewd smirk. “I think it brings out all the intimate anger from the lyrics.”

You nod, eyes narrowed in pain. Yena looks at the mirror and eyes your back. She immediately removes her hands and gasps. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t want it to be, like—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you hiss and look into her eyes, level with yours, an inch away from yours, she looks so into it, so needy—

That is more than 3.3 seconds. Your legs melt like butter, your chin falls to Yena’s chest. She not only looks bigger than you, her soft pillows are more voluptuous and the tight crop-top is perfect for showing it off. 

“We should…” Yena hums, her voice deeper than ever, her hands deep in your hair at this point.

“W-we should fu—” you try to finish the sentence, but she is too fast.

“We should go for a final attempt. There is something I still want to change.”

The looped track is at the second chorus. You need to push all love and lewd thoughts and tension and pent up stress and the feeling of Yena’s boobs out of your mind. The tug she gave your pants shows a string of your thong, your hair is disheveled, your eyes spin, your muscles try to follow the rhythm but there is no need to follow it. The bridge has already started.

Yena is off beat, grazing your jaw with her lips before spinning you around with her own two hands. Those same hands grab your leg, feel everything up to your inner thigh and even pull at the string of your thong. You’re about to explode, but Yena isn’t done yet. Her sweaty palms rub over your sweatier sides, grab both your top and bra and pull them over your skyward arms. 

Your heart skips a trillion and one beats when you see through your messy hair that Yena has her eyes closed and lips sucking your lower lip, fingers on your breasts, cupping, poking. You fall backwards, the mirror catching you after a couple of steps. Its cold surface meets your scars, you groan at the ease in pain, the increasing pain, whatever it is, you don’t care.

“Yena, I—”

“No words, nothing.”

Yena pulls down your pants, fiddles with the string of your thong before putting her hand into the front. She sighs a little and you open your eyes to find yourself in the mirror, flushed in red with excitement, confusion and arousal. 

“From now on you will shave,” she commands, lips inching towards your ear. She adds, her voice in a husky whisper: “And you will only wear the thongs I give you. I think my pretty girl understands.”

“Y-yes, Yena,” you moan as she rubs your labia.

“Good. 

“Now, let’s get into the storage room.”

Yena starts to circle your entrance while guiding you towards the storage room's door. You were always confused why it was lockable from the inside. Now it makes sense. What also makes sense is the big box with pillows, dresses and stage outfits Yena empties onto the floor before pushing you into it. It’s soft, a worthy replacement for a bed.

“Get those off,” Yena groans but her hands are a lot quicker at undressing your pants than yours. “Spread your legs.”

Open shaky knees slowly. Yena is a lot less hesitant, her fingers pushing away your thong and going straight into your pussy. When she curls them upwards, your feet shoot upwards as well. When she thrusts them in and out, you move the same way to engulf them. When she starts to moan—well, you’re already moaning louder than her.

“Fuck, that’s just two fingers,” Yena groans her complain out loudly, not louder than your moans, but she makes sure you learn that she is in control of your neediness. “What if I actually make you cum with just these two, huh?”

“Ye-Yena, I—”

“No words.”

Yena puts the palm of her hand on your mouth, sealing it shut. The only way to get air is to breathe through your nose, the only way to voice your pleasure is by frantically swinging your legs through the air. However, Yena seems to be amused by your struggle to breathe coherently or release your tension. Feverishly, she starts to pump her fingers in and out of your cunt, while her thumb pokes your clit again and again. 

“Are you really going to cum just like that?” Yena huffs and rolls her eyes. “God, I haven’t even undressed and you’re already this weak. I bet the fucking filthiest of my fans would do better than you.”

There is this ounce of pride in you that wants to fight back and argue that you are definitely not on the same level as those creeps lewding her, but in all honesty, you also don’t. Yena is so right, you are wet for her, your soft walls milking her two fingers like you need to do it for your survival. Your hands are free to do everything, you could push her arm away or put yourself upright, but they flop around uselessly, like weak straws. 

“Now—”

Yena removes her hand from your whimpering mouth and puts it on the hem of her crop top.

“—I want you to cum, perfect little girl.”

With a single pull, she gets the tight piece of clothes over her surprisingly big, bra-covered breasts and you get to see something all her fans can only dream off. Too bad you are just too weak, her upwards-downwards curling fingers stretching your cunt and her left-right flicking thumb have you on the edge and with a final, painfully hard push, you start to cum all over her arm.

“Oh, so hot,” Yena groans as your juices run over her skin. “It’s so sticky—did I tell you that you smell fucking lewd? Just from your sweat while dancing, I knew you’d smell perfect down here as well.”

Yena blows on your sore pussy when she pulls out her soaked fingers. The final spurts of your arousal leak onto the stage outfits below, but Yena does not give a fuck. Rather, she continues faster than your orgasm-shaken brain can react. Her face hovers above yours, it looks like she is about to take you missionary—if only she could.

“The next time, when you are shaven,” Yena whispers, cum-covered hand creeping over your chest to your chin. “I’ll fuck just like this. I’ll make you cry with nothing but my pussy. I bet you’re yearning for it already.”

You nod mindlessly before sucking yourself from her fingers. Yena is right, everything about you is lewd, so you might as well make a lewd expression while cleaning each of her fingers individually, then lapping off the rest from her palm. Her expression changes from a fascinated smirk to something a lot more sinister. Suddenly, she pulls your hair while trying to get out of her own pants.

“I know you want it, but I’m not going to give it to you. I’m just going to use your slutty little face to fuck myself and you’re going to be a good, perfect little girl. You will do the fucking things I say.”

“Y-yes, Yena.”

Wordlessly, Yena stands up and finally rids herself of all her garments. When her panties fall, you immediately want her crotch to be closer, but it comes a bit too close. Though the light is dim in the storage room, Yena makes sure that you can see her shaven pussy, her folds, her ass upclose when she starts to sit on your face. 

“Stick your fucking tongue out!”

Yena starts to moan loud and deep and louder and deeper when she rubs her labia on your nose and her clit on your tongue. She is incredibly wet, dripping on your face and making you more than a sweaty mess. All your eyes see is her subtle ass ripple as Yena goes faster, her clit chasing for more stimulation from your mouth.

A sudden sting on your sides fills you with pain. It feels like you are bleeding again, but this time Yena's nails feel intentionally torturous. Right above your hip bones she is leaving scratches, as if she is a tiger attacking and slashing you. You try to show your pain by grabbing her thighs, but she immediately swats you away.

“No! Only I mark you! Fuck, your abs make me so fucking jealous. Be a good little girl and move your stupid tongue.”

Yena suffocates you with her sweaty, pink cunt while her glossy lips begin to kiss all over your midriff. Enticed by her worship of your abs, you start to worship her lower lips with everything you have. Lick it, nibble on it, suck on it, blow on it, just to make her thighs shudder at the sides of your head. Then it’s Yena’s turn to slobber all over your abs, leave painful hickeys and even more painful scars when you strike at her most sensitive nub.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’ll fuck your face forever, don’t stop, fuck!”

She likes that word so much—just like she likes thrusting her hips down, smacking her juices all over your features until her unannounced yet definitely noticeable orgasm that leaves you with a blurry vision of her trembling crotch. Yena’s smell and cum fill your nostrils as you try to take deep breaths, a grave mistake which leads to you falling into a coughing fit. Not a good final impression, but the idol does not seem to mind. With unsteady feet she gets off of your face just to sink to her knees beside you as the orgasm still rattles her mind.

Half a minute later, your coughing fit finally subsiding, Yena’s hands do not subside—like claws they cling to your abs and hips, making you hiss when she goes over the fresh wounds. She looks at you, brushes the wild strands of pink hair behind her ear and does what you assume is an apologetic gesture: Eyes still locked with yours, her lips gently kiss where faint droplets of blood come from and you throw your head back at—again—pain and pleasure. 

“I can’t get enough of this,” Yena hums and you continue to groan.

“I-it hurts, Yena.”

“I like marking my girls.”

Suddenly, her hand creeps in between your legs and you lock it right there with your thighs. Shit, you’re sensitive, needy for another round of her fingers getting you off. Yena however only brushes the bush of your unshaven pubic hair. Once more, she sighs, but this time it’s a lot less demanding; maybe she sounds hopeful?

“If you want another round,” she whispers. “Shave yourself ‘till tomorrow.

“Understood, my perfect little girl~?”

[glitteredrry]

how to lose a guy in 10 days

hello, welcome to the beginning of my romcom h series where i’m just writing harry in to iconic romantic comedies. now it won’t be verbatim (although some iconic quotes are used), so don’t expect that. it has the same plot though. i hope that you love the start of this series. thank you for reading. 💌

summary: a journalist who is in desperate need of a promotion has only has one simple task, lose a guy in ten days. what happens when Y/N meets a man named Harry that she can fool? Oh, but the only thing is he has his own promotion task to complete…he needs to make a woman fall in love with him in ten days.

warning: fluff, angst, & good ole cheesy romance.

wc: 9.2k (grab a snack)

“I’ve acted batshit crazy with this guy, he’s not budging,” Y/N complained to her friends in her living room.

She was at a loss, her only task for promotion was to lose a guy in 10 days. She wanted this promotion not just to have bragging rights that she did in fact lose a guy, but to be taken more seriously as a journalist.

Living in New York, it was hard to get out of the pool of writing small dating articles. Y/N was over these small sections about topics that weren’t going to change the world.

She wanted something more serious. Perhaps covering world news or something in politics. Her dream of being a journalist surely wasn’t where she is at right now. She wasn’t one of those people who were unappreciative of her opportunity, just a woman looking for a change.

So, when her boss opened up the opportunity of getting to write more serious topics, she was willing to do anything. Even if it was using some guy as a pawn. Sitting with her closest friends sharing a bottle of wine, they talked about her journey so far with the task at hand.

“Well tell us about everything that you’ve done, list it from crazy to out of this world,” Miranda spoke up feeling entertained by this situation her friend was in.

Y/N blew raspberries, “well the least is that I made him take care of these nearly dead roses I bought at the store. I told him that they were a representation of our relationship; if they died it meant he wanted our relationship to die.” She said with an evil smile.

“Once I gave him the flowers I then dedicated a song to him.” Laughter filled the small living room.

“What song?”

“You’re so vain.”

“You didn’t!”

“Even added his name in while I was singing. He looked mortified.” She said finishing off her glass of wine and then going to refill it.

“That’s the least? How crazy did you get?”

”Oh I’ve been terrible, you think that he would have blocked me by now. Listen to this one, we were at a game- oh a basketball game. The game was intense, I mean it might have been the best game of the season. I looked over at him,” she looked at her friend Kendra reenacting what she did.

“And said I don’t think I feel so well. The look on his face was something I’ll never forget. He quite literally looked as if he would have rather told me to go to hell than leave the game, but we left.” She laughed. Y/N knew that the actions were cruel, but she also knew that this would be a great story to tell her grandkids one day.

“What else?” Her friends asked on the edge of their seats.

“Well, a small thing is jealousy. Which I thought guys hated but he just takes it and reassures me. I’ve accused him of dating other girls, and looking at other girls; I’ve made him get into a fight with a guy at a fair.”

“Then right when I was about to have sex with him I called his dick princess Sofia. That didn’t go over well but we agreed on another name. I honestly thought that would have done it. It didn’t.” Y/N said reaching inside their popcorn as her friends just looked shocked.

“I called his Mom too.”

A gasp filled the room because they couldn’t believe how far their friend was going.

“Told him that I cared about having an important relationship with her.”

“And that didn’t steer him away?”

“Nope. Nada. Nothing. He just was okay with it! Sometimes I can just see this look in his eyes that he wants to lose it on me, but he doesn’t.” She said in disbelief herself.

“He will break soon, I feel it.”

“Well, what about today?” Her friend spoke up to ask.

“He plays cards with his friends, it’s my day off.”

“That was before he met you.” Y/N looked over at her friend confused.

“He played cards with his friends before he met you. You need to go, ruin boys' night. There is nothing more that men hate than when their friend's girlfriend comes to crash the party.”

It was as if a lightbulb went up in Y/N’s head as her friend Linda was in disagreeing with it all.

“What’s his name?

“Harry.”

“Harry must be a sweet boy why are you trying to break his heart?”

“He’ll get over me, Linda. It’s only 10 days.”

…

Harry was sitting in his apartment passing around a joint with friends. He had finally gotten the chance to breathe without Y/N breathing down his neck. All the nicknames, baby voices, and constant need for his attention were put on pause.

The Y/N he met on night one was a complete 180 of the Y/N he was currently dealing with. The woman he met was this beautiful woman. Someone who was intelligent and witty, it was someone whom he would have felt bad for making fall in love with him just for his personal benefit. The version he was dealing with now was a demon.

Although she did have her moments where he had a glimpse of the person that he originally met; Like when she would hug him and her fluorescent perfume would mix with his beautifully. Or when they decided to watch a game together in his apartment and she was cheering at the screen with him. She did have her good moments, but then again the bad outweighed the good.

He couldn’t complain much because he needed her. She was his only way of being able to move up at the fashion company he worked for. For him to lead the campaign for the new season of the women’s collection, he needed to get a woman to fall in love with him. Harry told his boss that women love him and that he understood women. So, his boss wanted to challenge that by having only one simple request. Getting a random woman to fall in love with him. He was nailing the assignment since Y/N was still around.

“So, Styles. Do you think that girl is in love with you yet?”

“I’ve got her wrapped around my finger. She’s hooked.”

“Have you fucked her yet?”

“There’s no way that he hasn’t.” One of his friends added in.

“Don’t ask me a question like that. She isn’t a piece of meat.” Harry said in all seriousness. He might have not been trying to date the girl, but he wouldn’t let his friends disrespect her. They all knew what she looked like since she had come up to his job…several times.

“Fine…but have you?”

“Well…no I haven’t.” He said while looking at his hand of cards.

“So, you have to deal with her craziness and get nothing in return?”

“I’m getting something in return, and that’s a campaign.” At his words, keys rattled from outside making all the men at the table turn around.

“Booboo bear,” Y/N called out entering with their cat she got them as practice for their future child in hand.

“Oh, hell.” He said under his breath going to stand as all his friends mocked the nickname while trying to conceal their laughs. Y/N let down their cat whom she named Muffin to the ground.

“Honey,” he said opening his arms as she walked inside them. Hugging momentarily, Harry breathed in her scent that he was becoming all too familiar with.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked breaking away from her and looking down as she smiled up at him. That smile that he was kind of cute…kind of.

“I just happened to be in the area, then Muffin started meowing when I walked in the direction of your apartment. So, I think that she was telling me to come here. She must have missed her, Daddy.” She turned away from Harry to pick up the cat, “you missed your Daddy, sweet girl.” Y/N’s baby voice was on, and the only thing encouraging her to continue was his friends dying of laughter in the back.

“Continue your game. I’ll be like a ghost you won’t know that I’m here. Just dropping off some things.” Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she turned and headed to the kitchen to laugh to herself.

Harry sat back down at the table daring his friends to say another word. Just when he thought that Y/N was going to be true to her word, out she walked with a platter of vegetables no one asked for nor wanted.

“Excuse me, just wanted to bring healthier options,” she looked over to one of his friends who had a wing in his mouth. Staring it down, she took her fingers and yanked it out his mouth, and all of the men gawked at her actions. “Healthy celery, healthy carrot look how yummy.” She said to Harry’s friends as if he was a toddler.

All of his friends looked around at each other not believing how crazy this girl genuinely was.

His friend slowly let her place the vegetable in his mouth and she patted his head, “good boy.”

Harry couldn’t even find the words to say right now. He placed the joint back in his mouth trying to calm his nerves that Y/N was trying to drive through the roof.

Then coughs began to start as she stared down Harry. They progressed from small ones as if she was clearing her throat to overdramatic ones as if she could not breathe. He knew she was being over dramatic, she stopped in the middle of it all, eyeing him down one more telepathically telling him to put it out.. He put it out with a forced smile.

“Thank you, my sweet honeybun.” She cooed.

Then the drama came as she directed her eyes to something across the room.

A blood-curdling scream came from her lips as if someone had stabbed her, making all the men join her not knowing what they were screaming. “Harry, our roses. You killed them, you monster.” Y/N said theatrically moving across the room to hold the nearly dead roses.

“They’re just roses, I can buy you more,” Harry said rushing over trying to calm her. He was not expecting her to have this kind of reaction…well he had planned for this to happen actually. Tomorrow before he came back from work, he had wanted to go buy fresh roses to replace them. His plan failed…clearly.

“What did you just say?” She looked at him with a twitch in her eye. He thought that he could only see something like this in a movie. His mind couldn’t wrap around that this was his life. Out of all the women in the world that he could have picked for this bet, he picked the worst nut in the package.

“These roses were a symbol of our love. Our young, beautiful, festering love. Do you want our relationship to die?” She said with accusation.

“No, honey. I don’t want our relationship to die. Wait-”

“I don’t want to hear another word.” She said huffing as she began to stomp back to the kitchen with the rest of the roses in hand. She took a moment to collect herself. This was slowly driving her to insanity, but she couldn’t help to admit how fun it was to see the different reactions across the room to her antics.

Just as she walked back into the room with a platter full of pretzels, her eyes were on the back of Harry’s head as he motioned to his friend that she was crazy.

Back into character, I goes.

All of Harry’s friends were trying to silently motion to him that she was behind him. As Harry slowly turned around, he watched her slow stride as she approached the table. All of Harry’s friends watched anxiously because this girl was unpredictable.

“Are you saying, I’m some kind of mental person?” Pretzels flew up in the air and came down like confetti. All of Harry’s friends jumped back as they began to vouch for him.

“No, he didn’t say that.”

“He told us he loved you.”

“Right, Harry?”

“I’m in a room full of liars and snakes. If you would lie to me then you would steal from me, and if you would steal from me then you would cheat on me. Are you cheating on me, Harry?” Y/N said with a small fake sob beginning to spill from her mouth. Every man in the room looked at each other confused. It was as if she was flipping through several personalities.

“No, I wouldn’t lie, steal, or cheat on you. Where did you even get that phrase from?” Harry said, going to stand feeling more confused than ever.

“Quite frankly, Harry you would.” She said immediately cutting off her sobs and going back to normal only making the men in the room question her sanity even more.

“I know that you did cheat, I just can’t prove it. First, you let our love roses die, and now I’m a mental person. I don’t want to be with someone who thinks I’m a mental person.” She said moving to collect her purse and the nearly dead roses.

“Goodbye, Harry. I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.” As soon as her back was turned to the men, she smiled. Walking out the door and hearing it shut she felt victorious.

Her assignment was done for good.

There was no way that after that Harry would be trying to come back. Y/N nearly felt bad for all the pretzels that he would have to clean up.

“You can’t let her go, Harry.” His friend spoke up not forgetting about his promotion. Harry on the other hand had the promotion in the farthest part of his mind. He was happy to no longer deal with her shenanigans.

“Let her leave, I’m in hell. I can’t deal with that,” Harry said feeling slight relief at her finally leaving. Her random meltdowns, phone calls, and popping up where he was were over with.

“The promotion.” His friend reminded him. Harry forgot about the task at hand, and he needed that promotion. Jumping up, he began to run out his door. He was wishing on a star right now that he could catch her.

She had finally gotten rid of him.

“Y/N, wait.”

Or so she thought.

She turned her head to see Harry running down the fire escape in search of her. What was it going to take for this guy to leave me alone? She thought. Turning around to face him, she jumped right back into acting mode making her face screw up as if she was pissed off.

“What do you want, Harry? Why are you running back to talk to a mental person?” She asked. Yes, she was acting, but she truly wanted to know why he would decide to come back to find her. Either this guy was falling for her or just like the crazy within her.

“I’m here to apologize. It was cruel of me to call you mental. You just care. I’m willing to do anything to fix it. I messed up. Please, forgive me.” Harry looked down at her with puppy dog eyes that made Y/N’s stomach curl a bit. She felt a slight blush on her cheeks looking at him in this vicinity. It was the same feelings from the first night that they met. Quickly, she broke eye contact trying to push those feelings down.

“I’m not sure that I can forgive this.” Harry watched her lips and how she kept a prominent pout as she said the words to him. It was cute. She was cute. Harry broke himself out of fonding over her and those beautiful lips.

“I’m willing to do anything,” he slowly dropping to his knees on the New York sidewalk, and she couldn’t figure out whether to find this enduring or disgusting. He kept his green eyes on her as he lowered himself to the ground. “Anything, Y/N.”

“Couples therapy?” She asked knowing that there was no way in hell he would agree to that.

“If that will make you forgive me then, yes. I’ll go.” He rose off the ground going to hug her as she twisted her face in confusion as soon as his head was tucked into her neck. Harry breathed in her scent that the wind was trying to blow away, but he could still smell it.

When they broke contact, she looked at him sternly.

“I love you Harrypie, but I don’t have to like you right now.”

With that said she continued her walk down the street until she was able to fetch a cab ride home. Harry watched her disappear in the night, walking back up to his apartment he ended the boys' night. He was left in a room filled with scattered pretzels and a grumpy cat looking back at him. His dreams were filled with a messy girl with pouty lips and a scream that could wake up the world.

…

Couples therapy was hell…well for Harry it was hell. Y/N seemed to enjoy throwing him under the bus at any moment, not only throwing him under the bus but weirdly partnering up with the therapist against him; At the same time, she accused him of trying to sleep with the therapist.

To say the least he left the session with a happy woman, a major headache, and a dent in his wallet. He honestly had a gut feeling the therapist was a fake one she found off the internet. One thing that he wasn’t expecting the therapist to suggest was taking her away for the weekend to go visit his family.

His family was originally from England, but when his Mom remarried they settled in a small town in Connecticut. He felt calm bringing her because Y/N had already formed a bit of a relationship with his Mom. He could tell that Y/N was nervous.

As he turned down the street where he had spent the majority of his childhood, he watched Y/N’s leg shake as the anxiety was creeping down her body. Maybe this was too far? She thought about pulling into the driveway of Harry’s childhood home.

She tried to calm herself with the fact that this relationship was just to get her ahead in life. It was just three more days, and they would both move on with their lives. Once Harry cut off the car, they both climbed out. Harry grabbed their bags to go inside the house. Before they could even step through the door, Harry’s Mom was greeting them with a smile. “My boy,” she called out, going to kiss his cheek.

“Mom this is Y/N. Y/N this is Anne. I shouldn’t even be introducing you two, I forgot that you already have talked.” He said with a smart-ass tone causing Anne to hit him with a small rag she had in her hand.

“Nothing wrong with a little girl talk. Go drop the bags off in your room. Leave Y/N to me.” Harry walked away up the stairs to his room. Anne moved closer to Y/N with a low voice as soon as the coast was clear.

“You know you’re the first girl that Harry has brought home. You’re too are cute. Come on, let’s go introduce you to the whole family!”

Harry’s family was so loving. She loved the dynamic that they had. Anne introduced Y/N to his sister who had much to tell her about the childhood she shared with Harry. Then his grandfather was currently teaching Y/N how to play poker. It was beautiful scenery too with a hidden lake out back.

“When you fold, that means you’re surrendering. Pretty much you’re throwing the towel in before it even starts.” Harry’s grandfather spoke to her.

“Your cards won’t be able to be played.” She was nodding her head trying to wrap her hand around the game's entire concept.

On cue, Harry walked out the back door and immediately found Y/N. He was happy to see her fitting in with his family. He found it cute.

“Look at the poker champion,” his uncle called out making Harry claim the title loud and proud.

“I don’t think you’ll be winning today, Harry. Your girl is becoming a poker pro.” Y/N blushed at Gemma calling her out.

“Is that so?” Harry asked Y/N as he sat down right next to her.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders at him hiding her cards. “I think I can steal that title from you.”

“We’ll see about that. Deal me in.”

With the help of Harry’s family, Y/N just so happened to win over Harry. The night was filled with laughter and accusations of cheating...which she was. Y/N felt something inside of her brewing but she couldn’t tell what it exactly was.

She loved when Harry called her name out each time he accused her of cheating. She loved how he chased her around the backyard when he found out she was indeed cheating. That night she went to sleep with a charming boy, who had a dazzling smile in mind.

…

Today was peaceful. Outside of the city, it felt to Harry as if their energy shifted. His emotions with this girl have been up and down. Right now he felt so infatuated with her that it was overwhelming. He would find something about her each hour that made him laugh harder or smile a bit brighter. They were practically attached at the hip, only separating when needing to go to the bathroom.

Everything was feeling like the first night that he met her. It was something more personal. He wasn’t sure if it was because of them getting to be by themselves or the fact that he had finally brought a girl to his family, and they loved her. He just knew that as of right now he didn’t want to let go of her.

Right now, the pair were cuddled on the couch watching a movie as Harry’s family were running around doing other things. Suddenly, an idea came into his head as he looked at Y/N laughing at a scene.

“Want to go get naked?” He said randomly in her ear causing her to shoot up giving him a wild stare.

Without a doubt, she knew that she was sexually attracted to Harry, but his just randomly saying it caused panic to run through her.

Harry laughed at her reaction purposely teasing her, he watched as her eyes dilated while holding shock in them.

“Sorry, what I meant to say is would you like to go by the lake? We’ll be in swimsuits, I assure you.” Y/N held a hand to her chest blowing out air that she had been holding in.

“Although, if you would like to get naked, I wouldn’t stop you.” Y/N let out that loud laugh that was music to Harry’s ears.

“You’re such an ass.”

“You love it. Are we going?”

“Show me the way.”

…

The cool air hit Y/N’s legs as Harry walked in front of her leading her to the lake. They had a small picnic basket filled with goodies that Harry had decided to pack. Harry turned his head multiple times to ensure she was okay, and she gave him a kind smile right back each time.

They walked down the passageway until they hit the hidden area. Harry turned to face her feeling a bit shy about bringing her here. It was a sacred oasis for him when he would come to visit. It was something that he had to himself since he was a teen. “Welcome,” he said to her as she took in the location.

She never grew up in a small, close-knit town like this. It was a complete contrast from what she was used to. It was always loud noises coming from the city or the busy streets of New York that she had to walk down bumping into people; Here it was silence.

Just the sounds of nature flooding her ears. She felt at peace. “This is gorgeous, H.” Harry felt his face burn. He wasn’t sure if it was because of how soft her voice was while being dripped in pure adoration or because of the nickname she just assigned to him. He was going to just go with the latter.

“Early in the morning, it’s even better believe it or not.”

They sat down their belongings and undressed. While peeling off their clothes, the both of them stole secret glances at each other. Once they were settled in their swimsuits, Harry overlooked her body as her swimsuit hugged her curves.

She was beautiful.

He was beautiful.

His tattoos were melting into his tanned toned skin as she tried not to let her stare linger for too long. “I’m going to head in, you can keep making googly eyes at me.” Harry teased running into the water. This time Y/N was the one to blush. She chased after him not letting him get too far away.

They played innocently in the water, it was childish splashes shared between them, and a game of marco polo. After getting tired of the water, the both of them watched as the sun was gradually setting. Harry was laid across Y/N’s plush thighs as she was snacking on some grapes. As their bodies dried, Harry was in a deep thinking process.

Harry didn’t know how to describe the way that he felt. It was a weird set of emotions for him. He had never had a serious relationship, then when he happens to meet someone that has driven him mad in all of the ways one can imagine; It happens that he is using her for a bet.

He looked up at her as she unknowingly was stuffing her mouth with grapes. “You look like the cutest chipmunk ever,” she looked down at him, as Harry flashed those bunny teeth that caused her heart to throb.

Hitting him playfully, he sat up moving away from her attack. After she finished chewing she began to speak, “they were really good grapes I swear.”

Harry turned his head up focusing on how the sky had become a little gloomy, “Hey, Y/N, I think that we should head out now. I think that it’s going to-” Before he could finish his sentence, the weather did a 180 causing them the laugh at the small sprinkles of water that began to hit them. Sprinkles the turned to hard rain hitting their skin

Quickly gathering their thing, they ran in the direction of his family home as their laughs got lost in the pouring rain. Once, they made it inside they ran upstairs into the bathroom together and locked the door.

“Let me get the shower for you, if you hear someone flush a toilet be sure to jump out,” he laughed to her as he turned on the water. He turned to face her with a smile on his face.

“Who knew things would change so fast,” Harry said with a laugh shaking water out of his hair. Y/N knew that he was talking about the weather, but she couldn’t help but feel emotion spark within her with his choice of words.

This was all supposed to be a silly bet for her to promote to a higher position, she didn’t know that she would have ended up feeling these kinds of emotions about him. She turned from him as guilty tears ran down her face. Harry immediately noticed a shift in the air as she sat on the toilet lid in distress.

”Hey, hey what’s wrong?” Harry cooed kneeling infront of her and moving her wet hair behind her ears, wanting to get a better look at her face.

Y/N looked up at him with red eyes as she tried to explain her emotions without fully giving them away the reason behind her tears. “It’s just this weekend has been so nice, hasn’t it? Your mom is so kind and it’s just your family is so nice. It w-” she cut herself off with a deep breath before she was about to reveal herself.

“My family loves you and I- yes it has been a great weekend. One of the best I’ve had in a while.” Harry moved his hand to her thigh and she looked down at when he was touching her. There was a connection and both of them questioned if the other could feel it.

“A beautiful girl like you is never meant to cry. Can you show me your smile? I love your smile.” Harry spoke to her with a slight rasp in his voice.

“C’mon, you know you want to smile for me.” He said poking her cheek and teasing her as she tried to contain the blush rising on her cheeks.

She showed him a smile…just not the normal one. “That’s a scary smile, I want my girl’s smile.” She pursed her lips before showing her natural smile.

“There we go, think you have some spinach in your teeth though.”

“I do not.”

“You don’t, I just wanted to mess with you,” Harry said laughing as he moved closer.

He wanted to kiss her.

She wanted him to kiss her.

As if they could read each other’s minds, their lips connected in a way they had not before. It was an overwhelming feeling for both of them. They couldn’t understand when the line started to merge.

They both tried their best to keep their lips connected as clothes began to fly off. By the time they hit the shower, they explored each other in the same way how they wanted to on the first night they met. It was the same burning desire running in them, only now they were both in love with each other without fully admitting it to themselves.

…

Saying goodbye was always bittersweet, but it shouldn’t feel like this. After a weekend together like this he wanted it to stay for good, they were infront of her apartment lingering outside not wanting to say goodbye.  

“Well, this is me…” she said not wanting to leave but knowing she would have to.

“I know, kiss goodbye?” She nodded her head wanting the same thing. Pressing a kiss to his lips she moved to move away.

“Bye Harrybooboo,” she said with a laugh using the nickname not to annoy him this time, but just to tease him.

“Bye, honey bear,” Harry teased right back.

Y/N laughed stepping away and walked to the door of her building but stopped hearing Harry shout her name.

“Tomorrow my job is hosting a gala, will you be my date?”

“I would love to. What time?”

“8 on the dot.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

…

Harry looked down at his leather boots while he waited for Y/N to come downstairs. It was finally the night of the gala and he was dressed to impress, not only because he was a representation of the company. He wanted to impress Y/N. He was dressed in one of the suits from the newest collection coming out soon.

Harry waited for her patiently not wanting to rush her but knowing that they were cutting it close. His body leaned against the chauffeured car that he had gotten for them. His nerves were an absolute wreck, he was doing every single thing that he could to distract himself; He fidgeted with each one of his rings and tossed his hair in every which way.

“Hello, Harrybooboo,” all of the nerves fell away before his eyes could even look at her. Just by being able to hear her voice, he felt a calmness.

Looking up at her, he felt as if someone had physically punched him in his chest knocking all of the wind out of him. She was beautiful. He held his right hand over his heart to calm how rapidly it had started beating.

Y/N stood on top of the stairs feeling a bit timid, she had spent all of the time trying to look her best. It was all worth it to see him looking at her as if she was the most prized possession in the world.

Harry observed the yellow silk dress that matched her perfectly. It clings to her body, the body that he had fallen for so fast. Her hair was in an updo showing off her beautiful face. He was completely and utterly gone for her.  As she walked down the stairs he opened the door for her to climb in first.  

“You clean up nice,” she said with a smile before going to greet him with a hug.

“You’re not too shabby either,” Harry said flashing her a toothy grin.

“I’m going to head in, you can keep making googly eyes at me.” She said to him with a teasing smile climbing into the car. Harry laughed at her repeating his words from two days ago.

“Gladly.”

…

The gala was beautiful, and the designs from the upcoming collection were on display. Ranging from jewelry pieces to styled outfits. Y/N was in awe.

She was happy to be here with Harry…although he wasn’t right by her right now. This was still a work event for him so he couldn’t be by her side through it all. They had gotten separated somewhere along the way. She was now looking at one of the styled outfits on display that caught her eye.

“Y/N,” she heard her name called by an unfamiliar voice.

Turning her head, she made out the face to be Harry’s boss from one of her too many visits to his job. “Mr. Bardot, you’re Harry’s boss. Hello.”

“That I am, and you’re his…”

She was never asked this question before, they weren’t technically anything official. It had only been ten days for goodness sake.

“I’m his date.”

“Right, but I’ve seen you lingering around my office more than once. You can’t be just a date.” She swallowed nervously not knowing what to exactly say.

“I guess you could say that I’m more than just a date. Harry and I have a weird dynamic.” She ended her sentence with a peal of nervous laughter hoping that his nosy boss would catch a hint, and go meddle in someone else’s business. Turning back to look at the styled piece, she nearly spits out her champagne at his next sentence.

“Right, I guess things do become weird once you fall in love with someone.” He said nonchalantly.

Turning her head back to him, “l-love? I didn’t say that.”

“Well, that’s what would make it a weird dynamic, right? I mean I’ve been looking at you both since you walked in together. That looked like love.”

Y/N felt as if she was having some kind of existential crisis, it was if she had started questioning everything. She knew that her feelings for Harry were growing rapidly without her even knowing. But love? It was as if everything had come crashing down on her at once.

Even though all the silly gimmicks that she pulled, she had gotten to know him on a personal level. There were real feelings and moments between them. Moments that caused her to have butterflies in her stomach anytime she thought of them. Y/N looked at his boss while she stumbled on her words.

“I think you know deep down. For what it is worth, I believe he feels the same.” With that said he was gone leaving her alone in her thoughts. Swallowing her emotions that were trying to come up, she downed the rest of her drink.

Harry was having a rather sociable night. He’s talked to every important person here that would only further his career. Even an older woman who got a bit too handsy with him. Through it all, he just had one person missing by his side. Harry was on his way to go find her because everyone was soon to be seated.

“Styles,” he heard his name being called. He knew who it was immediately because his boss was the only person to call his last name instead of Harry.

“I met her. The girl is in love with you. Congratulations, the campaign is all yours.”

With that said his boss disappeared into the crowd as Harry stood there trying to process what he had said.

“Y/N is in love with me,” he whispered to himself. Scanning the room for his girl in the yellow dress, his eyes spotted her sitting at a table near the front of the stage.

“She’s in love with me,” Harry said in disbelief. Just as he was about to pick up his heart off the floor and head to her, someone else got in between them.

“Oh, you’re looking at, Y/N.”

He turned to see an older woman watching Y/N along with him. “You know her?” He asked still staring her down.

“I’m her boss, she is one of the star journalists at my company. Right now, I asked her to work on this assignment of making some unlucky guy out there fall in love with her. She had ten days to fool someone, and the stories she has told us are ridiculous. We actually kind of feel for the guy.”

Harry felt his heart drop hearing her boss speak about this unlucky guy. He was the unlucky guy. Her boss kept talking in his ear, repeating all of the things that Y/N had done to him. So, many emotions crashed into his body at once. He felt embarrassed that he was the laughing stock in her life, he felt stupid for not seeing through her behavior then getting played by her, and lastly, he felt betrayed for falling in love with a girl who clearly never felt those feelings.

Walking away from Y/N’s boss in the middle of her talking, he walked to the bar in desperate need of a moment to collect his thoughts.

Little did he know Y/N was across the gala with a smile on her face waiting for Harry as the dinner was about to start, she felt the presence of someone behind her thinking that it was Harry, only for it to be his two friends from work.

“Hey, guys,” she said as they sat down confused as to why they were here.

“Hi, Y/N. We just wanted to ask you something. Harry has worked really hard in the company to finally get where he is; So, if you could just keep playing along with our boss and pretending that you’re in love with him that would be great.” Y/N’s face dropped at his words.

“Yes, he doesn’t need to know anything about the bet. Just smile and convince him that you’re in love.” Harry’s other coworker added in.

Y/N picked up her champagne glass swallowing the remains. She agreed so that they could leave the table and leave her the hell alone.

It was hard to pinpoint one emotion that was running through her body but the main one was at herself. She felt foolish for falling for Harry. All his chivalry, and how she looked at her were all fake. A surge of anger ran through her, ad a person is never more vulnerable than when they’re angry. Anger is only a protective shield to protect the sadness she didn’t feel like showing yet.

It was as if she could feel a burning stare in her neck. When she turned, she could see Harry watching her from across the room. Both of them have hardening stares. Harry’s jaw was clenched as he tried to control himself since this was a work event. Y/N scoffed at him turning away, not even wanting to look at him.

What reason does he have to be mad?

What reason does she have to be mad?

Both of them thought at the same time.

The lights in the room began to dim signaling that it was time to pay attention to the stage. Harry moved through the dining area but ended up getting stopped by the same older woman from before who didn’t know how to keep her hands to herself.

He tried to move away as he heard the announcer introduce the performer for tonight. Just as he thought his night couldn’t get more dramatic, he heard the sweet voice that he is the most upset with right now.

“Yes, let’s all give a hand for this. I’m sorry to impose but I just needed to give a special shout-out to someone. Harry Styles is a hard-working man, a great swimmer, and a real charmer. He cares deeply about his job and is willing to do anything to succeed.” Y/N and Harry stared each other down as if they had become sworn enemies in their short time here.

“I must say, that even though he has many great attributes. Out of all of his many great talents is that he is a hell of a singer. And he has decided tonight to perform for you all. Harry, come on stage and sing your song.” She said with a fake smile as a spotlight found Harry standing in the middle of the room.

Harry couldn’t believe her, clearly, she had found out about his bet and wanted to make a spectacle. He would give her what she wanted. Everyone in the room clapped, encouraging Harry to go.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Harry Styles.” She said with an artificial voice. Adjusting his double-breasted jacket, he moved through the crowd keeping his eyes on her as he walked onto the stage. She placed the mic down on a stool, and began to make her escape. Harry dashed to the stage picking up the mic as she tried to leave.

“Y/N. Y/N don’t leave. You couldn’t dare walk out and not show the world that beautiful voice of yours.” If looks could kill Harry would have passed out on that stage. “Doesn’t everyone want to hear a duet tonight?” The crowd went wild wanting more than ever for the pair to do a song together.

Y/N flashed an awkward smile at the cheers. “Everyone please, give a warm welcome to, Y/N.”

Harry grabbed a mic that wasn’t in use and held it out for her to grab, Y/N wasn’t going to back down at him challenging her right now. So, with a smile on her face, she walked right back up to the stage. As Harry turned to the band asking if they could play a certain song for them.

As the instrumental for You’re So Vain began to play. Y/N was now on stage as Harry nodded his head to the beat. “Oh, that’s nice,” he said on the mic turning to face her.

“You walked into the party like you were walking onto a yacht.” He said emphasizing his words as he sang. Y/N rolled her eyes at him as she grabbed the free mic from his hand aggressively.

He continued going, taunting her and not really knowing any of the words. This only further upset her because now she needed to correct him. Getting sick of his antics she went to go sing.

“And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner,” she said in a mocking tone really giving the audience a show. Not one that they expected but one filled with drama and tension.

“Harry’s so vain,” she sang into the mic off-key.

“You probably think this song is about you. Harry Styles, you’re so vain.” She dragged out her singing as Harry attempted to talk over her muttering that she was the vain one.

Getting sick of being up here she stopped in the middle to direct her attention to him as if they were in the room alone. The instrumental of the song kept playing as they talked in the mic letting everyone hear them. “You tricked me into falling in love with you. Do you have an ounce of shame?”

“And what did you do? You trashed my place and took me to some fake ass couples therapy so that you, you Y/N could have a promotion. You also made me miss the biggest game of the season.” He said on the mic arguing his side of things.

“Do we hear that ladies and gentlemen, Harry missed a game? I want everyone to know that your sex is lame.” She said in a singsong voice.

“You named my dick princess Sofia,” Harry said arguing back as the audience gasped at the back and forth between them.

“Well, why did you have to bring that up?” Y/N said as the crowd now began to laugh at them. It was a hot mess and everyone was eating up the drama of it all.

“You’re so vain.”

“No, you’re so vain!” Y/N finished off getting sick of all of this back and forth, and threw her mic down to exit stage left.

“There she goes, ladies and gentlemen. Running away, good job, Y/N.” Harry yelled on the mic. As she tried to run through the gala, Harry dropped his mic and immediately ran after her. He wasn’t going to let her get away this easily.

Pushing through the bulky doors of the gala, she ran down the steps trying not to trip on her dress.

Harry was right on her tail, and as he watched her approach the bottom of the stairs he called out for her. “Y/N, just wait. We’re not done here.” He said losing his breath because he just had to catch her.

“No, we are done.” She said turning around. Pointing to him in anger, Harry walked right up to her with a scowl on his face.

“You played me, just to get a campaign. You’re a backstabber!”

“Oh, so you’re innocent? Coming into my life and turning it upside down for a fucking article. Was it worth it?” Harry said in complete anger. He was in love with her, he knew this for certain. Now it all meant nothing. It wasn’t going to go anywhere because she doesn’t have the same feelings as him.

The both of them looked away from each other, Harry had to walk away for a moment gathering this anger inside of him. He didn’t want to yell at her or act this way toward her. He couldn’t help the feeling of betrayal. He didn’t like this feeling. That anger that Y/N started to have was melting down to just pure sadness. Harry wasn’t in love with her. He only had one goal in mind and accomplished it.

“So that’s all I was to you?” Harry said turning around to face her again. Instead of anger being laced through his voice, it was low and full of sorrow. “Just some project to you. Something for you and your coworkers to get a good laugh at?”

“I guess I was just some random girl that you picked out.”

“Your readers are going to love this. What a beautiful twist for you, truly, I hope they love the article.” Harry said with sarcasm dripping in his voice.

“I wonder what the odds are of them liking it, want to bet on it?” She said with a sour tone. Tears began to fill her eyes, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crying infront of him.

“Bravo, Y/N. Your job was to lose a guy in ten days, and guess what? You just lost him. Congratulations.” Harry attempted to walk away from her for good wanting to have the last word.

“How can I lose a man that I never had, Harry?” With that said she turned around no longer wanting to be here. Harry watched with a heavy heart as the woman that he loved walked away from him for the last time.

…

The last few days for Y/N have been hard. She had ended up writing, and turning in the article wanting to finish her assignment. When she turned in her article, she also notified her boss that she would be resigning. This place no longer served what she needed, and she could see that even though she had completed her boss’ task, her boss wasn’t willing to give her what she had promised. Walking out of the office building for the last time was bittersweet, but it was the next step in her life. Heading to her apartment, she was beginning to pack for her move across the country.

…

Harry had thrown himself into work. Yes, he loved that he had gotten the campaign, but at what cost? It was as if the world was mocking him each time he had to go into his job. Right now, he was giving his opinion on one of the fabrics as his friend approached him.

“Harry, I think that you would like to see this.”

He turned around only to be faced with a magazine. A magazine with his girl right on the front. Well, it wasn’t his girl. She never truly was. Taking it from his hands. He started lipping through the pages, he found her article and began to read it. Once he got to the bottom, what he read shocked him. It was almost as if he could hear her voice.

When I began to write this article, it was to call out all the silly dating faux pas. In the end, I ended up losing someone special to me.

Those same emotions hit Harry. It wasn’t one of anger but what he had initially felt for her. Love. He needed to get to her. Harry refused to go on another day without her because of the mistakes that they both made.

“I need you to look over this, I need to go get my girl.”

Rushing out of his office building, Harry grabbed the helmet to his motorcycle he pulled out of storage to ride trying to get Y/N off his mind. He was thankful that he had it because New York traffic was a bitch. Speeding down the streets of Manhattan. He first arrived at her job hoping that she would be there.

He needed her to be there.

“Sorry, she is not here. Y/N quit two days ago, she is heading to the airport right now to go to an interview across the country.” Her coworkers told him as he cursed himself.

Looking more at her coworker's face he noticed her, “I knew that you weren’t a real therapist.” He said walking away from her and grabbing their love roses that Y/N happened to leave behind.

“She made me do it.” Her friend said smiling at him.

“You owe me money,” Harry called out exiting the building.

He hopped right back on his bike and began his journey to her apartment. Just as he approached her could see her hair as she climbed into the back of a cab. Due to the noises in the city, there was no way for her to hear him calling out her name.

“Shit, I’m not giving up on you,” he said to himself. Revving his bike, he dodged in and out of traffic tracking her cab. Even almost getting her cab mixed up with a sea of yellow cabs. He gained speed as they approached a bridge. Harry could see the silhouette of her head in the back of the cab. Pulling up to the side of her cab, he hit the window, startling her.

“Harry? What are you doing?” She said in disbelief as she lowered her window.

“Pull over, Y/N we need to talk.” He screamed in the wind. He pointed to an area where technically it would be illegal to stop but would make them not stop traffic. Not wanting Harry to die, Y/N kindly asked her driver to pull over. Even though it was an inconvenience, he pulled over. Y/N hopped out of the car as Harry took off his helmet.

“If you’re trying to get yourself killed then you’re on the right track,” Y/N told him crossing her arms.

“Is this true?” He asked in distress holding up the magazine. He needed to hear these words from her. He needed to know that this wasn’t for her to sell some articles and that what she wrote were her true emotions.

“Harry, please. I have an interview-”

“Is this true, Y/N? Please, just answer the question and I’ll walk away forever if you want me to.”

Y/N swallowed her pride and for once put down the shield that she would have normally had up. “Everything that I wrote is real. I would never be that vulnerable if it wasn’t how I felt, Harry.” She said feeling herself get choked up.

“Then why are you leaving me?”

“I need to find a job, Harry. I want to be a journalist, writing real stories with meaning. I can’t do that here.” She said wiping the stray tear that decided to escape.

“I know you have an interview. A journalist like you doesn’t need to travel across the country to find something. You fit in right here. You deserve to be right here. There isn’t a job in New York you could find to love every single part of you.” Harry spoke to her wanting her to see, and understand the talent that she had inside of her.

“Where are you going?” He asked the same question only different this time. Y/N bit her lip because she was at a loss for words. Here was this beautiful soul she had known, and got to love practically begging her to stay.

“I told you it’s the only place I can go if I want to be a real journalist.”

“Well, I think that you’re running away.”

“You can keep these thoughts for the next girl you want to bet on, I’m not running away?” She said going to turn and climb right back in the car.

“Are you going to fold?”

Y/N stops in her tracks.

“If you tell me right now that this, this between us, is a risk for you; And you don’t want to take that risk. I want you to tell me. I need you to look me in my eyes and tell me. Tell me you fold. Because for me, you’re worth every risk. Time and time again I would choose you.” Y/N turned around to face him taking in every emotion across his face.

He wanted this. He wanted them together.

Harry stepped closer to her getting into her space, they were so close yet miles apart. He wanted to taste her lips again. He wanted to breathe in that scent that he fell in love with.

“Lady, what are you going to do? I have places to be.” Her cab driver asked. Harry could look into her eyes and tell that she wanted to say yes. They were worth the risk. His stubborn girl wanted him just as much as he needed her.

Pulling out his wallet, Harry pulled out a large bill and handed it to the driver while keeping his eyes on her. “Take her stuff back to the apartment. She will be riding with me.”

“How do you know what I’ll say?” She asked with a smile dancing on her lips.

“I’m calling your bluff, baby.” At those words, Harry took her face in between his hands, and connected their lips together. He never knew that he could miss a person this much. Y/N was elated at this feeling inside of her. Love was hard and consuming but it was all worth it. She wouldn’t change one thing that happened to lead them to this moment.

Breaking away from the kiss, they held hands as they walked toward his motorcycle. “Look who tagged along.”

“Our love roses. I love you so much, Harrybooboo.” She teased pinching his cheek with one hand as she went to go pick up the roses with the other.

“I love you more, honey. I’m never letting this relationship die again.”

[blooming-dahlia]

Could I request MC!reader giving a rockstar performance for the VDC contest? Rockstar as in their singing and performance blew everyone's's socks off. I'd like to see Pomefiore's reaction (emphasis on S/O Rook).

Especially at the end of the VDC while they're super disappointed they didn't win, at the same time they explained it felt like they were truly living and alive.

(Song sung: Empire by Shakira)

Having Fun Is More Important Than Winning [Pomefiore, Rook Hunt x MC!Reader]

╰ At first you weren't sure if you really wanted to participate in the VDC. You knew that if you won by some kind of miracle, NRC would count it as a big success.

╰ Yet you were afraid of Vil's reaction. After all, he and his team had been preparing for this event for a long time already, and you were always there supporting them during the several hours of intense rehearsals. How would the boys feel if, out of nowhere, you jumped on the stage and surprised them with your solo performance?

╰ Finally, you realized that you had nothing to lose. For such a long time you had wanted to show others what you were capable of, but there had never been a chance to do so. The members of the Light Music Club were the only people aware of your talent, and they even insisted that you should perform at the VDC.

╰ “I'm sorry, Vil.” You whispered to yourself and then, after fixing the strand of hair that had fallen across your forehead, you made your way towards the stage.

╰ Everyone fell silent when you started singing somewhat uncertainly, while your friends were watching the whole performance from backstage.

╰ Vil didn't think it was anything but a terrible joke. The song was especially slow and boring. He didn't say that you can't sing at all, on the contrary. The thing is, there's no way you could win a contest like VDC with your depressing ballad.

╰ Epel, on the other hand, seemed to be enchanted by your vocals, he also admired you for your bravery. He thought he could even do a solo performance just to annoy Vil a little.

╰ Most impressed, however, was Rook. So far, he thought Neige's performance before yours was the best of the evening. But then you took the stage and stole the show with your voice. Rook had been interested in you for some time already. Once he discreetly asked Vil for your Magicam account and seemed a bit disappointed when he found out that you didn't have one yet. That's why he took pictures of you from behind, like a typical stalker. But this time, no picture on the phone screen could make him feel as emotional as watching you perform live.

╰ And then, you surprised everyone again. This time, when the chorus hits and in the span of only one minute, you're no longer a non-magical NRC student from another world. You are a true rockstar.

╰ The crowd was loud, much more than you could ever expect. But it didn't throw you off balance. In fact, it only boosted your confidence. The way you hit higher notes made everyone scream even louder.

╰ “Is that NRC's student from another world? The magicless one? I've never heard anyone sing so GOOD in my entire life!” Someone in the crowd could ask.

╰ Meanwhile, the whole backstage was screaming your name in awe, Ace and Deuce being the loudest ones. Even Vil smiled a little when you moved to the chorus, obviously satisfied with the sudden change. “And that's how you make an excellent show.” He said to himself in a proud tone. Epel simply nodded, surprisingly able to hear Vil's words through all the noise.

╰ And then there was Rook. He didn't shout or cheer. He just stood there and watched you, his mouth slightly open, but not a word could be heard. His focus was only on you performing. Even Vil and Neige were no match for you, Rook thought. To be honest, it was unusual for someone to be better than those two. Maybe you had no magic in your veins, but your voice was enough to enchant some people. And Rook Hunt was definitely one of them.

╰ After your performance, you simply bowed and left the stage. You didn't go backstage because you were afraid your friends would be disappointed and upset with you. You just stood outside the stage, nervously waiting for the contest to end.

╰ Royal Sword Academy has just been announced as the winner of this year's VDC contest. You should have expected this, but you were still a bit disappointed. There was no way Vil wouldn't be mad at you for ruining NRC's chances of winning.

╰ You couldn't see their faces, but you could imagine Vil gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, while everyone else just stood there in disbelief, trying not to cry or break anything backstage. Except maybe Rook, who was probably pleased with Neige's win.

╰ The said blond-haired boy standing right behind you surely wasn't something you expected to see when you turned around. He just stared at you with a sympathetic look on his face. You were confused, but quickly managed to get a few words out of your mouth.

╰ “Aren't you happy?” Only a few people knew that Rook was a big fan of Neige, and somehow you'd made it into that group. It was obvious that you would think he would be happy about this turn of events. But there was something about him that seemed off.

╰ “I would be lying if I said I wasn't pleased, but tonight I was suddenly struck by Cupid's arrow and someone else has stolen my heart and soul, Mon Ange.”

╰ A slight blush appeared on your cheeks. There was no way he was referring to you, was there? But somehow, deep down, you really wanted to believe that it really was you. “Oh, really? And who might that person be?”

╰ Rook chuckled, and before he could say anything more, the other two members of Pomefiore approached you. Epel quickly began to praise your performance, while Vil just stood there, his expression rather displeased. But it wasn't because of you, he was obviously upset about losing the VDC.

╰ You just sighed and turned to him. “Look, Vil. I know you are disappointed that we lost, I am too. But hey, at least we had fun, right?” You hoped to cheer him up a bit. Vil's eyes widened at your words.

╰ “Yes, I think you are right. Maybe I was a little too focused on doing this to win rather than for fun.” You could see that he was ashamed of himself, especially since he saw during your performance that you were doing it to finally get your talent noticed, not to win the way he wanted.

╰ “Oh, do not be so ashamed, Roi du Poison. You have done an excellent job. Our performance was magnificent and it was all because of your incredible charms!” Both you and Vil side eyed him, knowing perfectly well that he still preferred Neige's performance.

╰ But then Epel spoke and suggested that you should perform with them at the next VDC. This took you completely by surprise and made you tear up a little. Your friends finally saw your talent.

╰ “Why not? When I was on stage I felt like this was my place and definitely one of the best experiences of my life. And I couldn't ask for anything more than to perform with you.”

╰ Vil smirked and fixed his hair a bit, while Epel's face lit up at your answer. Rook just nodded in satisfaction and bowed to you in a gesture of respect. This was an evening you'll never forget, even if you finally return to your world, leaving Twisted Wonderland for good. But now all you want to do is spend some time and have fun with your friends. Especially the blond-haired hunter, whose compliment meant more to you than any other person's in the world.

Thank you for requesting!

[sweet-honey-tears]

🩹Please Be Okay🩼

There’s a mix of both head cannons and a bit of stories. I hope you enjoy it and it’s not too confusing!

Thank you so much for this lovely person for giving me this idea! I had a lot of fun with it! If y’all have any others, please leave them and I hope you enjoy!🤍🤍 this is probably one of my favorite things I’ve written!

PLEASE READ

Warning: Description of wounds, blood, burns, broken ribs, mention of death, disturbing topics, characters are AGED UP, Angst with a happy ending.

○ Dabi ○

Dabi should have figured nothing would be simple, especially with the League. ‘Just a simple-‘ yeah no that’s not how it EVER goes.

Your quirk was similar to Togas in a way, mostly with vocal changes. You were able to lure people in with your song. They called it Siren. It left your throat raw and cracky but it was worth it. To say the least, your quirk relied on you being able to throat.

“ So you have two sets of vocal cords! Can I try!?” You were patient with Toga, and with everyone. Toya never said anything about it, but just ever so lightly grinned.

“Jeez leave ‘em alone will ya?”

You were nice to be around, not annoying or too loud. You also threw it right back at Toya anytime he tried to comment on something you did. But you also called others out of their shit.

“I could always just make you walk to me ya know.” You sighed. Arms slug over his shoulders as the two of you dance to some shitty song you were playing on your phone. Each of you shared an airpod.

“You’d lose your vocal cords if you do.” He tightened his hold on you.

• Injury •

“Dabi” your voice was strained, bubbly as you choked on spit, air, and blood. Burns encased your neck with no particular pattern. Meaning someone was aiming for your throat or head area with a fire-like quirk. Your mouth was sputtering blood. “D-Dabi”. Your body had collided hard with a wall, likely causing a broken rib or hopefully, just some intense bruising. Burns and sizzling skin covered your neck, jaw, and upper chest. Drops of blood slide down to mingle with your charred clothes.

Toya sees red, grating his teeth as he watches a shifted Toga sprint to your side. Her face turned worried, as she touched your shoulders.

Toya knows in the back of his mind it was likely to happen, that the so-called heroes would go for your ‘weak point’ - he would too. But that doesn’t stop him from seeing red. Someone hurt you.

Toya has a small family, and it is the League and you. And you just got injured.

If he notices it was Endeavor that caused this. He’s lost way too far in rage to be consolable.

Blue, complete blue and he doesn’t give a shit who’s caught in the crossfire.

“Why do you destroy everything good? Do you get off on it? By destroying our family.” He’s yelling outputs but no one can hear him due to the sound sod cracking fire.

• Weeks Later •

When you turn your head to face Dabi, your fingers reach out toward his own. His jacket lays crumbled by your face. Something you kept snuggling into m, breathing in the Smokey sent.

“I don’t have to get staples, do I?” You asked, peering out of the black fabric

It causes Dabi to grin. “Not yet doll didn't earn them”

“Thank f-“ you started coughing, your voice straining hard. Davis holding your hand in both of his.

“Take it easy doll.”

• Recovery •

Dabi lets you practice your quirk on him. You have to retrain it a bit after the damage caused by the fire. Though you sometimes wish he wouldn’t let you practice on him, it lets him see you struggle and fail. It angers you. But he’s always there to calm you down.

“Breath doll.”

Dabi allows you to call him, aiming in your wobbly voice to lure him over to you. Allowing you to kiss his lips before you completely let control go. He’ll hold you from behind, sometimes lifting you and saying “C’mon on doll, get out of this.” You have to sing to take it over, causing his body to relax and let you go. Dabi will barely agitate his quirk, giving you the chance to try and Solti him into a dull state of mind to have him stop. tell

“Getting a better doll.”

○ Izuku ○

• Injury •

You were both so close to finishing this damn chase. It had gone on long enough. Your legs sprung you forward, past Izuku as you used more of your strength in your jump. Your target only an arms length away.

“Come on ZuZu!” You yelled out, adding your final stretch.

Izuku lost sight of you for only a minute. His chest burned as he pushed himself farther. He didn’t always like the fact you could go faster than him (your quirk), it made him nervous sometimes. What he if wasn't there in case you needed-

Your screams pierced the air. They were terrifying, bloodcurdling, and horrible. Izuku could feel his breakfast cuddle in his stomach. He felt how is heart momentarily stopped and his lung squeeze. How every breath felt hundred time more Labor-sum and sink into his chest. With his final stretch into the ally you disappeared into, he find you and the target on the ground. The target was more than likely knocked out, seeming motionless. But Izuku could care less. He watched in horror as your body contorted, back arching as your feet pressed into the ground. Your bare fingers attached into the dirty ground. A heavy line of tears rolled down the side of your face, your eyes rolled back. Izuku fell to your side, grabbing your body tightly.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

Your body shook in his hands, you yell for stops and no’s continuing.

• Reaction •

People questioned where the top hero disappeared to, a month had gone by with no sign of Deku or his lover. People questioned your and Izuku's friends, asking either out of concern or anger what happened.

People noticed how Bakugou and others seemed to appear in place of Deku and you on patrol routes. When Bakugou's numbers started rising, the world noticed how he wasn’t flaunting it. He didn’t say anything about how he deserved it, he almost seemed angry at the fact he was rising slightly. No word of Deku.

“Dynamight! Dynamight! What happened to Pro Hero Deku?””

“Why don’t you extras mind your damn business for once.”

“Uravity! Can you tell us what happened to Pro Hero Deku and (hero name)”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure.”

• Healing •

You had seen your work nightmares. Things that have happened or never could, but things that scared you to your core. You never told Izuku what you saw, but you woke up one night screaming ‘Eri’.

Izuku took a month off hero work, only able to because of his friend. When news broke to them about what happened to you, everyone came to your side.

After a month you seemed alright, able to function as you use to. But you and Izuku always did patrols together now, there were no ‘lone’ shifts anymore. Which Izuku didn't mind, he got to spend more time with you and just be with you. Ensure you’re safe.

Nighttime was still a struggle, with instances of Izuku staying awake all night to rub his back. On these nights you slept through the whole night. When he holds you while you sleep as well it seems to help.

“I’m so sorry Izuku.”

“Hey- no everything’s okay.”

Izuku got you a weighted blanket and finding out the pressure seemed to help you too.

When you start going to therapy, Izumi is there for you every step of the way.

○ Katsuki Bakugo ○

People thought Bakugous nickname for you was interesting, Bee. People mostly thought of those cute little honey bees. The fluffy ones people take pictures of when they’re a mid-flower. But that’s not where the name came from,

“Ha!? They're not that quiet. Loudest thing around” ironic coming from him.

Bee is a firework, a loud one that twirls in random directions and lets out a high pitch noise. It grabs people's attention, just like you did his. Plus your quirk. One that allowed kick-up sparks when you ran, allowing you to twist your body in the air in a way most would find disturbing. But not Bakugou, man called you money when he first saw you. And on the news.

“Moving like a damn Monkey.”

You and Bakugou had an interesting relationship. Some would say your love language was aggression. But those people didn’t see you both out of the public eye. That was a different story.

• Injury •

It was just another villain attack, something you had both become desensitized to after your time in U.A. You both had already had your near-death experience before you even graduated. It made every day more sacred that you both were still alive.

Your body lay in a crater, an after-effect of a quirk that blasted you into the sky and casted you back down. Heavy needles had shot through your body, exiting and then being retracted. Ejecting you with something while leaving open gaps in your thighs. You were motionless, wheezing breaths as you felt your limbs become something similar to static. Poison. The villain had injected you with Poison. You likely had broken bones. Ribs. Maybe a skull? Had your quirk not allowing you to twist mid-air You’d be dead. You had to maneuver your spine and legs in a certain way to protect yourself from the fast-coming blow. Accumulating just enough friction to slow yourself down slightly. Your fingertips twitched as you gasped. “K-ka-kat-see” you could feel wetness trail down the sides of your face and drop off the shattered ground. Blood or tears, possibly both. Your shattered body wheezing at even the action.

“Sue-key” your upper teeth cut into your bottom lip as the weight behind your eyes grew. Black spots flitter in and out of your vision. The sky was so blue. So pretty. ‘Kat, be okay.’ You willed yourself to look down though at your body, barely catching the notice of twisted limbs before you were pulled back down by gravity.

When the villain you had been chasing found his way to Bakugou, he knew something went wrong.

“Where are they!?”

“In a ditch slowly dying. You’ll see them soon too!”

Fire, You could see the smoke in the distantanve. Feel the Earth shaking of explosions. If the ringing in your ears wasn't so bad, you could probably hear them.

“You’re going to fucking die!”

The rumble shook your body.

He’s broken. Loosing almost all self-control and restraint as his body propels him into the air. Howitzer Impact. A war-like battle cry rips through his throat. Every emotion he felt, anger and fear, came out in that one moment. Maybe if he were in the city, or with civilians, things would have been different.

Your body physically shook, the pain radiating through every cell. You let out a pained scream, shock fully wearing off.

Katsuki wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he found your mangled body. Maybe 5-8 minutes. He slid into the creator, running on wobbly limbs to your limp body. He lashed his arms out, ridding himself of his gauntlets as you slid to your side.

“Wake up! WAKE THE FUCK UP.”

• Infirmary •

“Suki, please just look at me.” Your shaking hand reached for his face, palm cuppings his cheek. Surgery had gone well. Healing quirks also came in use.

“You dumbass.” He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lip. “You could’ve- I would have” you watched tears trail down his face. Your heart shattering.

“But I’m here Kitkat” you quietly whispered. Pulling at the childish nickname as a resort to try and comfort him.

“Damn straight you are Baby,” Kat spoke with his eyes closed.

• Recovery •

Bakugoi allows himself to hold onto you a bit tighter when he’s helping you with walking. Your legs had been pretty much shattered and if it wasn't for your quirk, you would have lost them both… likely your life.

Bakugou is taking the time off every chance he can get to help you with your physical therapy. Cast- Wheelchair to walker to cane.

He picks you up on days they hurt too much.

Putting you on his back one day while you two were shopping. Your light as air to him, so he’s effortlessly picking up.

Katsuki takes over your patrols for the coming months. Refusing to let you go back even after the wounds had healed

“Kit, I’m okay. Doctors said so”

“So what?”

“So I’m okay to go back to patrol.”

“No, I’ll tell you when you are ready, and you're not”

Doesn’t mean to come off rude and controlling, but it’s kinda how it happens. You know better tho, with the slight gloss in his red eyes.

“Kat-“ your voice is soft, “I can decide when I’m ready to go and I’m ready to go.”

Bakugou would just stare at you, the annoyed look on his face present as he walks up to you grabs your shirt collar, and tugs you towards him. His arms wrap around you as you stand in silence.

“‘M don’t wanna lose you, Bee.”

He talks into your hair since he can’t talk to you face-to-face when he’s being vulnerable

“Please stay home, just for a day or two more.”