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magicalmatcha · 4 days ago

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SWEET LIFE: Candy Rain

@/offbrandheiress201773 tweeted!

↳ tamaki keigo on his fifth gf of the month and it's the 12th

cw: pedophilic behavior, illusions to ed, diet culture , drug mention

LONG WRITTEN PORTION UNDER THE CUT!

"Daddy!” Yn beamed, striding up to her father with the confidence only a princess could pull off, her heels clicking with purpose on the marble floor. Her face was lit with a smile that could disarm any room, and as her father looked up, his eyes softened.

“My Princess,” he said warmly, his grin spreading wide. “Greece treated you well, love. You look as stunning as ever.”

Yn leaned in to kiss his cheek, her heart warming at his genuine affection. She had always been his darling girl, the one he could do no wrong by.

But before she could fully enjoy the moment, a cold shadow passed over her, and the air shifted as a voice, sleek and dripping with venom, called her name.

“Yn, dearest.”

The words felt like ice water, chilling her to the bone. She stiffened instinctively, and a shiver ran down her spine despite the summer warmth. Her mother’s presence had that effect—unnerving, always poised, always watching.

The woman approached, her heels clicking in time with Yn’s own but with a much slower, calculated rhythm, like a predator closing in on its prey. She wrapped an arm around her father’s waist, leaning in close as if to reclaim what was rightfully hers.

“You look… well,” her mother said, her gaze sweeping over Yn with an appraising look. “Well fed.”

Yn’s smile faltered, and her brow twitched as she stood a little straighter. Of course, she’d say something like that.

“Mother,” she said, clearing her throat, trying to maintain a sense of composure. “Good to finally see you.”

Her mother’s lips curled into a tight, calculated smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach her cold, calculating eyes. “You look beautiful, darling. Those shoes… quite the choice,” she remarked, her tone dripping with passive aggression, her eyes glinting with subtle contempt.

Yn’s jaw tightened, but she kept her voice sweet, lacing it with the same venom. “I thought they complemented the outfit quite nicely.”

Her mother scoffed, rolling her eyes before taking a slow sip from her mimosa, the glass clinking against her perfectly manicured fingers. “Oh, you would think that, wouldn’t you?” she remarked, her tone dripping with thinly veiled judgment.

Yn stood her ground, her posture regal, but her mother’s next words made her stomach tighten.

“You’re looking a bit more… plump,” she said, her voice slipping into a mock concern. “Are you following the diet regime I left Anais?” Her mother’s smile never wavered, but there was something sharp beneath it, something that hinted at deeper intentions.

Yn’s gaze flickered for a moment, but she quickly masked it with an air of indifference. “To a T.”

Her mother’s smile never wavered, but the coldness behind it was palpable. “Well, remind me to call her and get it refined. Your calorie budget might be a bit too high.”

Yn’s posture stiffened, but she didn’t waver. Fushikages don’t falter. She hung her head slightly, gathering her thoughts, before lifting it back up with a composed, practiced grace. “Perhaps you’re right, Mother. It’s so good to have you back in Japan with your family, rather than in Bali with the oil baron from Kuwait.”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed, the subtle venom clear as she met her daughter’s gaze. “You forget yourself, Yn.”

Yn bowed her head slightly, a perfect show of deference, but the edge in her voice was unmistakable. “And for that, I do apologize. I must go greet the Iidas. Will I see you both at dinner tonight?”

Her father nodded, his expression softening as he leaned down to place a kiss on her head, his way of silently sending her off. “Of course, darling. We’ll be there.”

Yn gave a small, polite smile before turning on her heel, her movements fluid and graceful, her mind already slipping away from the uncomfortable encounter. The weight of her mother’s presence might linger, but it wouldn’t break her. Fushikages don’t falter.

She weaved her way through the guests, her signature smile lighting up the room like a beacon, offering polite waves and greetings. Her voice, sweet as honey, slipped from her lips effortlessly, soft as velvet, each word carefully crafted to maintain the facade of grace despite the chaos swirling around her.

“Fushikage Yn.” The voice that called her name made her freeze. It was gruff, heavy with the scent of too many Proseccos—unseemly for an event that had barely reached lunchtime.

She whipped around to find a man standing behind her. Tall, plump—a rather impressive feat, considering. His words were slow and sluggish, clearly the product of far too much wine. “You don’t remember me, do you? I used to come over all the time, worked in your dad’s company for a while.”

Yn’s smile didn’t falter, though her patience was thinning. “Ah, well, so do 10,000 other people. Apologies, I can’t remember everyone,” she said sweetly, her tone carrying an edge of polite dismissal as she tried to sidestep him. “Hope to see you around again.”

But he blocked her path, his gaze appraising her in a way that made her skin crawl. “You are just so stunning. I always knew you would be, since that day I saw you.” His eyes glazed over as if lost in thought. “You were just a little girl.”

Her smile tightened. “And when was this?” she asked, her voice like ice.

“Maybe 10 years ago,” he said, eyes blinking in confusion.

Yn’s eyebrows arched in polite disbelief. “When I was seven? Lovely.”

“Eight, possibly,” he offered, trying to recover.

She forced a smile, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes. “Would you excuse me? Iida Tenya is expecting me.”

But he didn’t budge. “Aw, come on. What’s the rush? Time has passed, people have grown, and you’ve only gotten more and more beautiful by the day.” His gaze drifted over her form, the perverse hunger behind it making her stomach churn.

She held back a shiver, her patience wearing thinner by the second. “I really must go. And you should drink some water,” she said coolly, her words calm but laced with a warning. “It’ll help.”

He ignored her suggestion, grabbing her arm with surprising strength. “Ah, what’s the rush? You’re about to graduate, and as wonderful as you are, no one wants to see the face of the Fushikage industry single and alone. Those rumored relationships won’t be enough to keep the public sane.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “A 50-year-old man reading Tattle Tokyo posts? Never thought I’d see the day,” Yn muttered under her breath, the words sharp and cutting.

“Please,” she said more forcefully, her tone ice-cold now. “Let me go. This is highly inappropriate.”

He stepped closer, his breath hot and foul on her skin as he slurred, “Come on, you just need a man in your life. A man with control, someone who can sort all this out.”

Her blood ran cold, fury bubbling just beneath the surface, but she held her composure, her expression perfectly calm. It took everything in her to maintain that mask, the weight of his fingers digging deeper into her flesh a reminder of how little she could do to escape without making a scene.

“I think she said to let her go,” a voice sliced through the tension like a knife. Both their heads snapped to the sound, and there, standing like a force of nature, was Katsuki Bakugou. His usual scowl was present, but the sharpness in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t about to let this go.

The man who had been accosting her didn’t flinch. Instead, a grin spread across his face as he sized up the newcomer. “Mitsuki’s son,” he sneered, voice thick with alcohol. “I know you lack manners, but let me teach you some—mind your business.”

“Sorry, but she is my business,” Katsuki shot back, his tone icy, his words as cutting as the glare he sent the man’s way. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them with a confidence that made the other man falter slightly. His hand shot out, grabbing Yn’s arm with surprising gentleness before tugging her into his side. “Being as she’s my date.”

Yn could have kissed him in that moment. Not that she’d ever admit it, but she was sorelieved to see him. Unfortunately, she was also hyper-aware of the way her skin burned where his hand touched her, the weight of his presence suddenly making everything feel more intense.

The older man scoffed, clearly not willing to back down so easily. “You’re not a very good one, seeing as you left your date all alone,” he sneered, his eyes narrowing as he grimaced at Katsuki’s protective stance. “What kind of gentleman lets a woman fend for herself at an event like this?”

Katsuki’s grip on her tightened ever so slightly, an invisible promise. “A real one,” he shot back without hesitation, his voice low and dangerous. “One that knows women don't always need escorts, she can very well handle herself. Now step the hell back. You’ve had your fun, now it’s time to leave her alone.”

Yn didn’t dare to look at the man anymore, her attention fixated on the warmth of Katsuki’s side, the heat of his presence almost suffocating but in a way that felt oddly… protective. Her pulse still raced, but it wasn’t from fear anymore—it was from something else. Something dangerously close to gratitude, though she’d never admit it.

The older man seemed to consider his next move, but after a long, tense moment, he seemed to realize that he was facing a fight he wasn’t willing to take on. He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath and, with one last look at the two of them, staggered off, his footfalls fading into the background noise of the event.

Katsuki didn’t move immediately. He just stood there, his arm still around Yn, holding her close as if daring anyone else to challenge him. He looked down at her, his expression unreadable, though she could see the slight flicker of something—concern? Anger? A mixture of both?

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his voice rough but genuine.

Yn swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “I… yeah. Thanks,” she managed, her words feeling weak against the backdrop of everything that had just happened. She hated how rattled she felt, but she couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of relief that came from his presence.

“Good,” Katsuki muttered, his grip loosening just enough to give her space but not enough to let go completely. His gaze didn’t leave her, scanning her face with a level of intensity she wasn’t entirely sure how to handle. “You shouldn’t get yourself into situations like that.”

“Like I did it on purpose?” she rolled her eyes, irritation sparking in her chest as they walked side by side. “I just happen to attract attention wherever I go, unfortunately. What, am I supposed to wear a sign that says ‘Do Not Approach’?”

Katsuki scoffed, his jaw clenching as his fingers tightened just slightly around her waist. “Maybe you should. Or better yet, don’t wander off alone in places like this. You think everyone here is gonna just keep their distance ‘cause you’re Fushikage Yn? Newsflash—this is high society, not a damn bubble.”

“I can handle myself,” she shot back, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling the heat of his touch a little too much. “It’s not like I asked for your help, but thanks for the rescue. Again.”

He scoffed again, voice low and a little more sarcastic than usual. “Yeah, you definitely had it covered, right? You looked real comfortable in that guy’s grasp.”

She glared at him, her temper flaring. “I didn’t ask for anyone’s help, okay? I can take care of myself without your macho nonsense.”

“Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you do something sooner? Let me guess—you were gonna ‘charm’ your way out of it with that smile of yours?”

Her eyes narrowed, but she kept her voice steady, trying not to let his words dig under her skin. “You’re so predictable, Bakugou. You think I’m some delicate little flower who can’t fend for herself?”

Katsuki shot her a sharp look, and his hand drifted back to her waist, his grip a little firmer this time. “I didn’t say that. But there’s a reason why everyone keeps taking shots at you. You make it too damn easy.”

Yn rolled her eyes again, her patience thin. “So now it’s my fault that people are predators, huh? I don’t know what you’re trying to get at here.”

“I’m just saying, you don’t always have to act like you don’t need anyone. You’re not invincible,” he muttered, the intensity of his words biting more than she expected.

She stopped in her tracks, staring up at him with a mix of frustration and something else that she refused to acknowledge. “Bakugou?” she said, voice quieter now, but with an edge. “Yeah?” he answered, not even breaking eye contact. “Get your arm off my waist.”

inside scoop!

yn knows her mother loves her but she's not sure if she likes her

neither katsuki or yn are sure why they hate each other they just do

mina showed up to the brunch an hour late but she looked so good no one cares

kyoka's parents have been divorced and remarried three times now no one knows if they're together or not at the moment

i had more planned for the iida brunch which is why it had alot of buildup but I forgot half my plan

I didn't read this over I need to learn to proofread

i have more chapters written for in the middle of the story when they're back at school than i do the beginning

<< mirage | elevator spaghetti >>

TAGLIST: @strawberry-wine320 @cielito--lindo @wonubby @rednicotine @shewki @midnight-drives-with-sunarin @talilosha @ikissfade @hxneymxn

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magicalmatcha · 4 days ago

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SWEET LIFE: MIRAGE

@/minaslostvancleefearring

↳ bakugou katsuki in those dinner paparazzi pics in Greece? I need that

inside scoop!

- despite being the youngest, Shoto is, against his will, the heir to the Todoroki family fortune. Touya went rogue, fuyumi doesn't want it and natsuo hates high society

- yn's mother just disappears and everyone's learned to just accept it.

- bakugou looks down on the lower class (he's an ass but they kinda all do) the same way he's looked down on for being new money

- mina famously lost her new pair of van cleef drop earrings in the Pacific Ocean after having them for only 2 days

- you can always ask questions that you don't think will be addressed in the plot or just in general and I'll be happy to answer them just send an ask

- Shoto is a mama's boy and yn's a daddy's girl so they often but heads but while yn can understand him not liking his father, Shoto is not as considerate, always pressuring her to try to forgive her mother

- In a way she already has

Send an ask to be added to the taglist!

<< point me to the sluts | candy rain >>

TAGLIST: @strawberry-wine320 @cielito--lindo @wonubby @rednicotine @shewki @midnight-drives-with-sunarin @talilosha @ikissfade

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magicalmatcha · 5 days ago

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SWEET LIFE: Point me to the Sluts

@/futureitgirl tweeted!

↳ yn fushikage almost hit me w/ her red astin martin DB12 this morning

“Elena and Iris could’ve come with us,” Denki groaned, trailing behind Kyoka like a lovesick puppy.

“Surprised you even remember their names, considering you don’t speak Greek and they didn’t speak Japanese,” Sero teased.

Denki let out a dramatic sigh. “Doesn’t matter. I just know they were the loves of my life.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Mina muttered, rolling her eyes as she looped her arm through Eijirou’s. “Where’s our precious Golden Trio, anyway?”

“They’ll be here,” Kyoka reassured. “Momo said so.”

Sero raised a brow. “Momo? You and Yaoyorozu friends now?”

Kyoka shrugged. “We agreed to drop the formalities.”

Then, turning back, she called out, “Katsuki!” She shot a pointed look at the blonde, who had fallen behind the group. “Get over here and talk to the hostess. I can’t understand a damn thing she’s saying.”

“You’re dead, Kyoka,” Katsuki grumbled, shoving his way to the front. “Tricking me into dinner with the uppity princess.”

Sero smirked, crossing his arms. “You could have stayed home, y’know.”

Denki shrugged. “Power of no take-backs overruled.”

“Hope we’re not late,” a voice chirped behind them.

The group—aside from Bakugou, who was too busy securing a table to care—turned toward the familiar sound.

Yaoyorozu stood before them in all her effortless elegance, draped in a flowing cream dress that caught the warm evening breeze.

Kyoka’s lips curled into a grin as she took in the sight. “Hardly. You made the reservation,” she teased, stepping forward to greet her with a kiss on each cheek.

“And yet, somehow, we were still late,” Momo beamed. “Shoto insisted we take the scenic route."

“No matter,” Eijirou chuckled. “You’re here now, and I’m starving. Let’s eat!”

“Katsuki’s still battling the hostess for a table?” Denki asked, scanning the crowd, his gaze landing on a familiar, smaller figure tucked shyly behind Momo’s tall frame. “And who’s this? Where’s Midoriya?”

“Midoriya’s in New York,” Momo replied smoothly, her hand on the shoulder of the girl beside her, gently nudging her forward. “But he sends his best, of course.”

Denki raised an eyebrow as Momo practically pushed the girl into the spotlight. “This is Ochaco Uraraka,” Momo continued with a warm smile, “A phenomenal dancer. We had to bring her along, she’s a breath of fresh air. You’ll love her.”

Eijirou leaned in, giving a charming grin. “Well, if she’s a friend of yours, Yaoyorozu , then we’ll have to make room.” He wrapped an arm around Mina’s waist as if to underline his point.

Momo nodded before her expression shifted slightly. “As for Yn and Shoto…” She paused, her voice lowering, “They’re… having a bit of a spat outside. They’ll be here soon enough.”

Just as Momo finished, the sound of a gruff voice cut through the air, unmistakable in its irritation. “I got the table. Let’s move, idiots, before I lose my appetite completely.” Katsuki’s entrance was nothing short of grand, as he waved them all forward, his annoyance palpable, but the unmistakable glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he led the way to their table.

“You’ll just have to get me tickets to your next performance,” Mina said with a smile, taking a slow sip from her dirty martini. “Eijirou, Kyoka, and I adore classical dance.”

Ochaco’s face lit up. “Of course! I’d love to. And I have to say,” she added, her eyes scanning Mina’s flawless skin, “Your skin is amazing.”

Mina’s lips curled into a subtle smirk. “Ah, well,” she drawled, “Vermillion Threads doesn’t expect anything less than perfection.”

Denki raised an eyebrow, glancing around the table. “Where are Todoroki and Yn? I don’t know how much more free bread they’ll give us.”

His question hung in the air for a moment before the unmistakable click of heels echoed across the floor, and their attention snapped toward the sound.

“Sorry we’re late.” The voice was unmistakable, smooth and unapologetic. Yn strolled up to the table, her Manolos clicking against the tile, the picture of effortless elegance. Shoto trailed just behind her, his stoic expression barely hiding his amusement.

“Fashionably late, as always, Fushikage,” Sero teased, his eyes glinting as he watched her glide into the seat Shoto had already pulled out for her.

Yn flashed a playful smile, settling gracefully into the chair. “You wouldn’t expect anything less, would you?” she quipped, her voice dripping with confidence.

Bakugou scoffed from beside her, the sound harsh and unfiltered. Yn didn’t even need to turn to know he was there. Still, she did, her gaze sliding over to him with a playful glint in her eye.

“Bakugou,” she drawled, her tone teasing. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re stalking me.”

He shot her a sideways glare, lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m not the one who can’t seem to stay away,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Yn smirked, leaning back in her seat as though thoroughly entertained by the exchange. “Oh, I’m sure,” she replied sweetly, her eyes dancing with amusement. “But then, I do tend to make an impression.”

“Oh, don’t you?” Bakugou drawled, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in, clearly enjoying the tension. “How’s that Rolls treating you?”

Yn rolled her eyes dramatically, waving a hand as she flagged down a waiter for another drink. “Oh, it wasn’t for me, dear,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “It was a gift for a very good friend of mine.”

“Yeah? I’m sure that good friend treats you just as well. Perhaps on long flights,” he shot back, his lips twitching into a smirk. “How'd that go for you? Bid on the car just for them? Or to spite me once again?"

Yn’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Well, if I didn’t do it , you wouldn’t get that adorable little vein popping on your forehead every time I show up,” she teased, her gaze flicking to the spot he always tried to hide his irritation.

Bakugou growled low under his breath, leaning closer to her, his voice a little more clipped now. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Mm, and yet, you can’t seem to get enough,” Yn replied with a tilt of her head, her voice light and sweet, but her eyes never leaving his. “Funny how that works.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but the words caught in his throat as he realized she had a point. Instead, he clenched his jaw, irritation rolling off him in waves.

“Keep talking, Fushikage,” he muttered, his tone both challenging and, irritated.

Yn’s grin widened, a knowing spark in her eyes. “Oh, I will. Don’t you worry.”

inside scoop!

yn speaks french and english but hugo speaks french and broken English. they struggle with communication from time to time

kirishima can speak English but his tutor lived in Alabama so he finds the accent he developed embarrassing

bakugou is meant to still be in "house arrest"

no one can ever tell if yn and katsuki are flirting or fighting

or why they keep sitting next to each other

first like 6-7 chapters are mostly filler/build up

<< what you heard | mirage >>

TAGLIST: @strawberry-wine320 @cielito--lindo @wonubby @rednicotine @shewki @midnight-drives-with-sunarin @talilosha

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magicalmatcha · 5 days ago

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SWEET LIFE: What you heard

@/keigossidepiece tweeted!

↳ Todoroki family is so succession coded

inside scoop!

yn doesn't believe in unconditional love. not because she doesn't want to but because she's never seen it

yn's car collection is 12 bakugous is 27

touya crashed the boat that's why it had to get "detailed"

yn spent her whole trip in Monaco with hugo bc her father abandoned her the second the stepped foot off the plane

bakugou never had a home cooked meal so he learned to cook for himself

off brand heirs was offered a sponsorship by a designer watch brand but they felt like that defeated the irony of the channel

im really bad at trying to make them be funny

<< million dollar baby | point me to the sluts>>

TAGLIST: @strawberry-wine320 @cielito--lindo @wonubby @rednicotine @shewki @midnight-drives-with-sunarin @talilosha

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magicalmatcha · 6 days ago

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𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: heir! katsuki bakugou x heiress! reader

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing!

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐚𝐮! 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐮! 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐤𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐮! 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐨𝐨𝐜 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐣𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐚

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: OPEN

the 1% syndicate | brat pack | secrets

yn style guide | yn's summer wardrobe | yns fall wardrobe

chapters with written portions are marked with 🥂

𝐎𝐍𝐄: nokia

𝐓𝐖𝐎: million dollar baby 🥂

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: what you heard

𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑: point me to the sluts 🥂

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄: mirage

𝐒𝐈𝐗: candy rain 🥂

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍:

𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓:

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄:

𝐓𝐄𝐍:

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magicalmatcha · 6 days ago

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SWEET LIFE: Million Dollar Baby

@/touyasfavoritetrophywife tweeted!

↳ eijirou kirishima spotted in a top that costs more than my rent

LONG WRITTEN PORTION UNDER THE CUT!

“Mind if we join you?”

Bakugou glanced up from his sake, a scowl already forming. Standing before him was Shoto Todoroki, attempting a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Beside him, Izuku Midoriya fidgeted in a suit that likely cost more than some people’s annual salaries, his nervous grin betraying his unease. Towering over both was Momo Yaoyorozu, poised elegantly in her Christian Louboutins, exuding an air of effortless sophistication.

The Brat Pack’s conversation halted as they appraised the trio. Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, irritation flickering across his features. Before he could voice his displeasure, Kyoka Jiro gently rested a hand on his arm, leaning in with a warm smile.

“Of course! Please, have a seat,” she chimed. “It’s been ages since finals; we’ve missed your company.”

The tension eased slightly as chairs were drawn, and the group settled into an uneasy camaraderie, the air thick with unspoken histories and fragile truces.

Shoto inclined his head courteously as he pulled out a chair for Momo, ensuring her graceful descent onto the plush seat. “Hanata, it’s a pleasure to see you,” he remarked, his tone reflecting genuine warmth. “I understand Yn had Anaïs secure your invitation.”

Sero, who had been adjusting the settings on his sleek vlog camera, looked up with a bright smile. “Yes, she really came through at the last minute. Speaking of which, where is Yn?”

Izuku lowered his head slightly, a subtle attempt to hide his amusement. Momo cleared her throat delicately. “She encountered some traffic delays but will be joining us shortly.”

“She’d better hurry,” Eijirou interjected, concern evident in his tone. “The venue’s closing soon.”

Denki scoffed, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “It’s Yn we’re talking about. They’d roll out the red carpet even if she waltzed in an hour late.”

Mina, meticulously applying a fresh layer of lip gloss while Eijirou obligingly held up a compact mirror, chimed in without missing a beat. “True, but the prime pieces are usually auctioned off early. I heard there’s a vintage Rolls-Royce Silver Spur from 1986, once owned by the Swedish Royal Family, up for grabs tonight.”

At this revelation, Katsuki’s interest visibly piqued. “An ’86 Rolls-Royce Silver Spur?” he queried, his gruff demeanor momentarily softened by genuine curiosity.

Mina nodded, her attention still fixed on perfecting her reflection. “Yes, a 1986 model. Quite the collector’s item.”

A rare grin spread across Katsuki’s face, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “Looks like this event just got a whole lot more interesting.”

As the conversation shifted towards the upcoming auction items, a subtle tension infused the air. Katsuki’s rare display of enthusiasm was palpable, his eyes gleaming with anticipation at the prospect of acquiring the vintage 1986 Rolls-Royce Silver Spur. The allure of owning a piece once graced by royalty was undeniable.

Shoto, ever observant, noticed the spark in Katsuki’s demeanor. “Planning to add to your collection, Bakugou?” he inquired, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice.

Katsuki smirked, his confidence unwavering. “If the car’s as good as they say, it’s worth the investment.”

Momo interjected, her tone informative. “The Silver Spur from that era is renowned for its craftsmanship and elegance. Securing such a model would indeed be a notable acquisition.”

Denki, always the joker, couldn’t resist chiming in. “Just make sure you don’t blow your entire trust fund on it, Bakugou.”

Laughter rippled through the group, easing the earlier tension. Yet, amidst the camaraderie, an unspoken understanding lingered: the auction ahead promised competition, and friendships would momentarily be set aside in the pursuit of coveted treasures.

As the evening progressed, the grand hall began to fill with the city’s elite, each guest a testament to opulence and influence. The Brat Pack, though accustomed to the limelight, couldn’t help but feel the weight of the event’s significance.

Suddenly, the grand doors swung open, drawing the attention of many. Y/N entered, fashionably late, exuding an aura of effortless grace. Her entrance, though delayed, was nothing short of spectacular, capturing the gaze of attendees and ensuring all eyes were momentarily fixed upon her.

Katsuki’s gaze followed her, a complex mix of emotions flickering across his features—annoyance, admiration, and something else unspoken. She liked good. Her trip to Monaco treated her well, her skin rich and sun-kissed.

Her gaze swept across the room, sharp and discerning, until it landed on familiar faces. A slow, radiant smile spread across her lips as she strode toward them, unbothered by the eyes that trailed her arrival.

“Apologies for my tardiness,” she said smoothly, her tone light, effortless.

Shoto stood without hesitation, pulling out the chair nestled between Katsuki and Sero. With a gracious nod, she sank into the seat, crossing her legs.

“Yn, stunning as always,” Sero drawled with a smirk.

She let out a soft laugh, tilting her head. “And you clean up quite nicely yourself.” Her gaze flickered over him, amused. “I have to admit, I was surprised when you asked for an invitation. What convinced you to make an appearance?”

Sero shrugged nonchalantly, the lens of his video camera catching the light as he waved it around. “Gotta pay for college somehow,” he quipped with a grin.

Yn nodded thoughtfully, her attention shifting to the man sitting beside her. Her smile softened as she turned toward him, the faintest hint of mischief in her eyes.

“Bakugou,” she said, voice smooth but with a playful edge. “How’ve you been?”

Bakugou’s gaze flickered to her, his expression immediately hardening, but there was a glint in his eyes that didn’t go unnoticed. He leaned back in his chair, taking another sip of his sake, the amber liquid almost matching the fiery look he shot her way.

“Better now that you’ve graced us with your presence, princess,” he grunted, his tone rough, but the slight smirk tugging at his lips said otherwise.

Yn raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Oh, how charming, Bakugou. I didn’t know you cared so much.” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a more teasing pitch. “You usually seem too busy glaring at people to show any real interest.”

“Unlike you, I don’t waste time on things that don’t matter,” he shot back, eyes narrowing. “Not like you, sitting here playing nice with all these rich idiots.”

Yn’s lips curled in a sly smile. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s just a game. Something you’d never understand, huh?” She tilted her head as if considering him. “You’re a bit of a lone wolf, aren’t you, Bakugou? Too busy sulking in your own little world.”

He scoffed, leaning forward slightly. “I’m not sulking. Just keeping my distance from fake people like you.”

“Fake? That’s rich coming from the king of acting like he doesn’t care about anyone,” she shot back. “Tell me, Bakugou, do you think this 'I hate everyone' act is working? When everyone can see how you clearly care so much?"

He growled low in his throat, clearly agitated but undeniably intrigued. “I don’t need to put on a show for anyone,” he muttered, eyes flickering with something between irritation and amusement. “At least I’m not pretending to be some perfect little angel.”

Yn leaned in just a bit more, her gaze never leaving his. “I’m far from perfect, Bakugou,” she said softly, her voice dangerously close to a whisper. “But I’m definitely better at keeping people on their toes. Especially you.”

The challenge hung between them, a dance of words that neither of them seemed willing to back down from. Bakugou clenched his jaw, but there was an undeniable tension in the air, one neither of them could ignore.

And neither could anyone else.

Momo cleared her throat, an amused glint dancing in her eyes as she subtly interrupted the unspoken tension between Yn and Bakugou. “So, what exactly are you planning on bidding on, Yn?” Her voice was casual, but there was a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

Yn’s gaze flickered momentarily toward the stage, her expression lighting up with excitement. “An ’86 Silver Spur Rolls Royce, owned by the Swedish Royal Family,” she said, clasping her hands together in eager anticipation. “I’ve had my eye on it for a while now. Can’t resist a classic, especially one with such a… storied past.” Her lips curled into a sly grin, a mixture of excitement and confidence in her tone. “I’ll have to send a thank-you note to mother for pulling some strings and getting me this invitation.”

“And what makes you so sure you’re going to get it?” Bakugou shot back, his voice thick with challenge.

Yn turned to him, a confident smirk playing on her lips. “I can only hope.”

“Well, your hopes are getting crushed tonight, Fushikage.” Bakugou leaned forward, his gaze intense. “That Rolls is as good as mine.”

Yn raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “And what makes you so sure? Hope, like me?” she teased, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

“No,” he said with a sharp grin, leaning even closer. “I know I’ll get it.”

Yn rolled her eyes, a small laugh escaping her lips. “Don’t get too cocky, Bakugou.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the auctioneer’s voice cut through the banter, echoing in the room, bringing the playful exchange to a sudden halt. Everyone turned toward the stage as the bidding began.

“The auction will now commence,” the auctioneer announced, his voice reverberating through the room. “Our first lot: The 1986 Silver Spur Rolls Royce, previously owned by the Swedish Royal Family. The bidding will start at ¥25 million.”

“¥26 million,” a man called out from the front, raising his paddle confidently.

“¥26 million, do I hear ¥27 million?” The auctioneer’s voice rang out.

“¥27 million,” Yn’s voice chimed, her paddle raised in a fluid motion. A bright smile lit up her face as she watched the auctioneer acknowledge her bid.

“¥27 million, do I hear ¥28 million?”

“¥30 million,” Bakugou’s voice boomed, cutting through the room with his signature intensity. He raised his paddle, turning slightly toward Yn with a smug grin. She shot him a sideways glance, smoothing the fabric of her Givenchy dress with a slight frown.

She sighed, her smile returning as she raised her paddle. “¥35 million.”

“¥40 million.”

“¥50 million.”

“¥51 million,” Bakugou said firmly, the competitive fire in his eyes never wavering. The tension in the air thickened.

“¥51 million and 100,000,” Yn shot back, her lips curling into a defiant smirk.

“¥51 million and 200,000.”

“¥51 million and 300,000.”

The back-and-forth continued, each bid escalating in increments, but neither willing to back down.

“Are you going to let them keep going?” Izuku leaned in toward Momo, his eyes glued to the rapidly escalating bids.

Shoto chuckled, watching the battle unfold with a bemused expression. “God, please let them. This is the most entertainment I’ve had all month.”

The auctioneer’s gavel hovered above the podium, ready to strike at any moment. The bidding had become a near standstill, both Bakugou and Yn locked in their silent, competitive stare-down, each unwilling to break first. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and the crowd could feel the heat between them.

“¥51 million and 500,000,” Bakugou finally grunted, breaking the silence, his eyes never leaving Yn.

She tilted her head, her lips curling into a small, mischievous grin. “¥51 million and 600,000.”

“¥51 million and 700,000.”

“¥51 million and 800,000,” Yn retorted smoothly, her voice carrying the slightest edge of playful arrogance. The room grew quieter as the bidding soared, no one daring to challenge the pair.

“¥52 million,” Bakugou declared, his tone even more firm. He leaned back in his seat, his smirk widening as he glanced over at her. “You’re getting too cocky, Fushikage. This is as close as you’ll get.”

Yn’s eyes sparkled with challenge. “Not yet, Bakugou.” She raised her paddle once again. “¥53 million.”

At this, a few heads in the audience turned, some clearly aware that the two were no longer bidding solely on the car—it was a battle of wills now, each determined to claim victory. The auctioneer, barely able to keep up, shifted uncomfortably but pressed on.

“¥53 million. Do I hear ¥54 million?” he called, almost reflexively.

Bakugou leaned forward, a little too eagerly. “¥55 million.”

Yn’s gaze flickered to him, her grin widening. She raised her paddle one last time. “¥60 million.”

The room gasped. Even the auctioneer stopped for a moment, momentarily stunned by the audacity of her bid.

Bakugou, who had been so certain of his victory, paused. His hand hovered above his paddle, fingers twitching as if considering whether to keep going or concede.

There was no way she’d go higher. Right?

The silence between them stretched, a slow realization dawning in his mind. Bakugou was about to give up when he caught sight of Yn’s triumphant smirk, and his pride refused to allow him to back down.

“¥70 million,” he blurted out before he could stop himself, his voice gruff but determined.

Yn’s smile faltered for a split second. She’d pushed him far enough, but she knew she could go one more step.

“¥80 million.”

Bakugou’s face hardened, and his eyes narrowed. She was playing the game.

The auctioneer was getting impatient, his gavel almost falling.

“Going once… going twice…” The auctioneer began.

Yn leaned back in her seat, the smirk never leaving her lips. “Sorry, Bakugou. Looks like you’ve been outbid.”

Bakugou opened his mouth, ready to argue, but the auctioneer’s voice rang out, sealing the deal.

“Sold. ¥80 million to the lady in the front.”

Yn sat back in her seat, exhaling sharply, her heart racing with the high of victory. Bakugou stared at her, jaw clenched, clearly holding back the retort that was bubbling in his throat.

“Looks like I win, Bakugou,” Yn said, her voice smooth, teasing.

Bakugou growled, "Like always."

inside scoop!

kirishima rode the metro with mina in solidarity

izuku is being groomed to be the successor to the Fortune 500 company, All Might Enterprises, by Toshinori Yagi since he never had children and wanted it to be someone he picked rather than just the next in line at the company

Shoto finds their relationship concerning

mina has never set an alarm or reminder in her life. thats what dorota (and eiji) (and kyoka) is for

bakugou is obsessed with cars. hates spending his parents money rashly but makes exceptions for vintage vehicles

mina is more blair/serena coded than yn will be and you'll see that

however yn and bakugou will have a relationship lightly inspired by blair and chuck

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