#and my shitty ex boss. Fuck You

[hikeyzz]

i cannot explain the vindication i feel knowing i permanently shut down a whole ass company

[lightseoul]

cw. gn!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (the tiniest bit), a lot of cussing (typical of bkg), reader has an ex-boyfriend, reader is alluded to being smaller than bkg

masterlist | part 1, part 2 (they're all bite-sized, dw), part 4 (this one not so much), part 5 (this one too), part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

You drop your new 0.38 ballpoint pen and it goes tumbling down, down, to the pristine carpeted floor.

Right where your jaw is.

“My what?”

The man of the hour has the audacity to scoff and roll his eyes.

Is it too late to actually follow through with your fantasy of strangling him?

As if he’s daring you to go for it, he tosses you the nth annoyed look of the night. “What did I just fucking say about not making me say things twice?”

You feel yourself flush with what you think is anger and embarrassment. “Bakugou, sir—”

“And I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

Smartass.

That’s it.

Before you know it, you’re already on your feet, stalking your way toward the man with the proverbial steam coming out of your nose and ears. His eyes widen in surprise as you get closer and closer before you stop right in front of his desk, towering over him for once.

“My date? Really?” You sound so incredulous, even to yourself, and you can’t help the seed of pride that blossoms over what you think is worry dancing across his features. He’s out of his goddamn mind, and between the two of you, you’re not about to be the only whose feathers are visibly ruffled over this dumb-as-shit idea. He has no business being so cool about it.

Never mind that your heart is hammering in exasperation.

Yes, just that.

Shaking your head, you press on. “In case you’ve forgotten, we’re coworkers.”

You gesture to the space between you, and he merely raises his eyebrow in response with his strong arms crossed in front of his chest—snobbish as ever. “You’re my boss and I’m your underling. And I’m the HR head, for crying out loud.”

You pause to debate whether or not to say the next thing before deciding fuck it. “And what makes you think I don’t have—”

“Do you?”

Your face scrunches involuntarily at being cut off, “What?”

He leans forward, not breaking eye contact as if he’s challenging you. “Do you have a boyfriend?” He cocks his head to the side, “Or a date, at the very least?”

Your voice is small when you respond with the pitiful truth.

“…No?”

At that, Bakugou grins. If you didn’t know any better, you would say the fucking behemoth of a man looked pleased. He pushes against the edge of his desk, effectively creating a much more appropriate distance between the two of you. “Well, that settles it then. I’ll be your dashing date, we show up to your shitty ex’s wedding, and I finally teach that dickhead a lesson or two.”

A million questions start racing in your head, like: Why is this his first solution to the problem? Did he even consider whether or not you wanted to go in the first place? What did he mean by finally? And just—why?

But the one you manage to stammer out is: “Dude—what the fuck are you going to do? Are you about to mangle a guy at his wedding?!”

He looks at you like you just unceremoniously bit his ass. “What? No. What do you take me for, a brainless Nomu who just goes apeshit?”

You can only grumble in response. Yes, sometimes.

He sighs for the umpteenth time as if you’re the one who has steered the already unpleasant conversation into this bizarre topic. He stands up from his seat, and you’re back to being the one looking up at him.

The same thing probably registers in his mind because a smug look takes over his features within seconds.

“And, if you must know, I’m going to do so by being the best trophy date ever.”

You fight the reflex to choke at his words. Instead, you squint your eyes and muster your most scrutinizing gaze. “Why are you doing this?”

Bakugou doesn’t respond for a while, choosing to circle his desk and plant himself to your right. Before you can even comprehend what’s going on, let alone jerk back at the proximity, he bends toward you until his mouth is a breadth away from your ear. His minty breath tickles your skin when he finally says: “I’m a hero, remember?”

With that, the “hero” in question sashays to the glass doorway like he didn’t just drop a bomb on you, leaving you slackjawed and unresponsive.

He’s almost out of view by the time you manage to collect yourself and blurt out a reply.

“Hey, where are you going? We still have work to do.”

“Relax,” he calls out from the hallway, his voice receding as he walks farther and farther away from you. “’m just gonna take a piss.”

When you’re sure he’s out of earshot, you slump back in your seat, all the strength that’s left apparently having dissipated after that ludicrous exchange.

How could he throw every caution to the wind just like that? Did he forget he was just one spot away from being number 1? His PR team is going to kill both of you for even thinking this.

As you wait for Bakugou to finish his trip to the comfort room, you can’t help but contemplate the absurd idea. Needless to say, and despite Bakugou’s apparent nonchalance, there’s planning involved.

What are people going to say? If (once) the people from your agency—no, anyone who knows the #2 Prohero, really (which is virtually everyone)—find out, you’re toast. You’re going to be the subject of every tabloid in Musutafu—no, the entirety of Japan and maybe even in some news sites overseas—and you are absolutely not ready for that scrutinization.

And all that over a one-day fake dating stint? You’ve got to be kidding yourself.

But the more you think about it, the less foreign and preposterous the idea becomes. You know you shouldn’t even be considering it, but you can’t help it.

Getting dumped by your boyfriend over the phone only for him to reconnect with his high school sweetheart (did they even ever lose touch?) and get engaged five months later was humbling enough, let alone going to his wedding alone?

The first, obvious answer when you first saw the invite in the mail was to not go. But the more you sat on it, the more you realized how pitiful it would be to be a no-show. Was not going wiser than going alone? Probably. But you’re sick of hiding— avoiding—and you promised yourself this year that you’ll be facing your fears head-on.

Chewing your lip in deep reflection, your brain drifts back to the very person who came up with the proposition.

He seemed sure and determined enough—and it wasn’t like Bakugou to not be calculating and to not have everything mapped out, as similar as he can be to a raging bull. He probably has thought about the consequences to the T, in the few minutes of processing your situation, potentially more than you have.

And damn it, the man is attractive.

If there’s anyone you’d bring to your ex’s wedding to make him regret everything he did to you, it would be Bakugou Katsuki. Although you’d never admit it to the man even if you were held at gunpoint.

“Oi.”

Speak of the devil.

You startle at the sound of his gruff voice, abruptly dragging you out of your reverie.

He’s now standing beside you, hands in his pockets and face studying yours closely as if he’s searching for something.

You stare him back down before you finally decide on what to say.

You can’t believe what you’re about to do.

Gulping, you maintain your gaze. “Are you sure about this?”

“Would I be suggesting it if I wasn’t?”

Fair point.

To your surprise, Bakugou crouches down to regard you and you find yourself directly face-to-face. Despite yourself, you gulp in nervousness at the sudden proximity, and you think he notices because the jackass has the nerve to flash you a smirk.

You furrow your brows in an attempt to regain your composure and any semblance of control over the situation. “And you’re sure you’re gonna succeed as, and I quote, my ‘trophy date?’”

He sneers, although he doesn’t seem to be offended by your challenge. It’s probably because the statement means nothing to him—at this exact moment, the guy is practically oozing with confidence.

Bakugou chuckles, and you find yourself grateful that you’re seated because the next thing he is about to say instantly floors you.

“One thing about me, princess, is that I always win.”

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Sukuna "asshole to the world, sweetheart to his girl" Ryomen

🎀minors and ageless blogs will be blocked 🎀

Pairing: Yakuza!Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

Genre: Smut, dark hero.

Word Count: 1450

Warnings: first off, fucking sukuna himself is a warning on his own so let's just start there. Possessive Sukuna, dark sukuna, yakuza sukuna, shitty boss, mean fucking asshole boss, violence, against boss, dacryphillia, p in v sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, read at your own discretion.

Summary: Sukunas heard you cry because of your boss one too many times. He takes matters into his own hands

A/N: This absolutely SPECTACULAR ART is by @innaillus and you can find the original here.

I want to thank her, not only for allowing me to use this as a banner but also for making such amazing art and sharing it with us. ♥️

This is a purely self indulgent fic. If you don't like it, please don't read it. I had a shitty week and needed a place to cool off.

Sukuna Ryomen glared down at your boss. He’d come in to pick you up and heard the creature screaming at you for something he already knew wasn’t your fault. You’d told him about the trouble you were having with your co-workers who slacked off and your shitty fucker of a boss who for some reason didn’t tell them off, but instead unloaded his anger on you. This would be the last time this pathetic vermin made you cry, he vowed.

He pushed open the door to your small office and stalked in. You stood in the corner trying to make yourself as small as possible, silent tears streaming down your face as your boss kept berating you – not even noticing his presence. One of the other workers tried to step in his way but he shoved them aside like they were nothing more than window curtains. He placed himself in between you and the balding middle aged man who dared to call himself your boss. “Hey nimrod, she doesn’t work for you anymore. Don’t fucking yell at her.”

The man cowered. Sukuna was taller than him and his crossed arms made his thick muscles ripple under his skin.

“Ryo…” you whispered

“Wh-who let th-this man in here? Sir, th-this is an office space. You n-need to leave.” your boss sneered at your saviour.

Sukuna merely smirked at you and pulled you into his side placing his lips on the top of your head in a chaste kiss. “Yeah, don't worry, I’ll be going pretty soon. Breathing the same air as you is making me feel nauseated. Can't believe the patience my baby girl had with your shit-ass, fucker” his first met the man's stomach with a sickening squelching crunch, and your now ex-boss, crumpled onto the floor in a heap.

“I'm gon-gonna call the cops on you asshole’ he croaked out.

Sukuna just laughed. “Have at it, ya great ballsack.”

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

When Sukuna came to pick you up from work that day he had planned the night down to a T. He’d wanted to take you to a new movie that you'd been itching to see but hadn't had the time. He would follow that with a fancy sushi dinner at the city's best restaurant and then take you to the outskirts where there was a nice little viewpoint he had discovered where he planned on showing you the stars – in more than one way…

But when you didn't come out at your specified time, nor answer the cute message he’d sent you – Where you at, kitty-kat? – Sukuna decided to investigate and came across your asshole of a boss yelling at you. He’d had enough. You’d been coming home and complaining about him and even once returned in tears. It took everything he had to not rip the bastard’s throat out. But he was done with you being abused. You deserved better. Which is exactly what he told you now as you lay with him on the hood of his car.

The plans had been altered slightly, you would be watching the movie with him the next day. He’d skipped the fancy sushi and instead opted for your favourite comfort food – Chinese cuisine. Slurping down saucy noodles, and munching on crispy gyoza always made you feel better he knew and he found himself smiling at your joy. He’d then driven you to his secret viewpoint. You sat there on the hood of his car with him beside you. In the distance, the pretty lights of Tokyo lit up the horizon and reflected off your lover's red eyes. Above you, the stars twinkled in their own magic…

Something about you had him wrapped around your finger. One of the most feared yakuza, putty in your hands. Of course, no one knew the connection. It was all kept hushed for your convenience.

“Kitty-kat?” Sukuna called to you and you looked up at your man. “You know— you know I’m rich enough to support both of us easily right?”

You hummed. “Yes, but I don’t wanna be some dainty housewife, sitting and waiting for my husband to come home and serve him dinner Ryo! I have a whole ass degree that a lot of money was spent on, I’d like to use it babe!”

“Husband?”

“What?”

“You said, husband. Not boyfriend. Or SO. Or partner. You said husband.”

“Yeah… I said husband…”

“You wanna marry me?”

“I mean, yeah, eventually right?”

Sukuna crashed his lips into yours in a heated kiss; all teeth and tongue. He pulled your body close, pressing against you. “I want you so bad right now, future wife. I want you so fucking badly.” He half growled in your ear.

“You have me Ryo. I’m right here.” you replied. You tugged at Sukunas pants and he unbuckled his belt. Sukuna grinded against your thigh while kissing you. His hands tugged at the buttons on your blouse, undoing them as he went. You could feel the bulge growing in his jeans. He kissed down from your lips, to your jaw, to your neck down to the valley of your breasts.

“I wanna fuck you.” He looked at you with a lidded gaze “May I? I won’t be able to stop if we go further than this kitty-kat.”

You lifted your leg to rub against his clothed cock. “I’d leave you right now if you didn’t, Sukuna Ryomen. So fuck me already.” Sukuna flashed you a fanged smile and dipped his head pulling down your bra and freeing your breasts. He bit and licked and sucked, actions that were sure to leave marks on you. Further south his fingers pushed aside your panties and found entrance. He slowly worked his way into you, rubbing gentle circles in your skin. You allowed yourself to let go and dirty moans slipped out from your lips. Your fingers tangled in his pink hair – so soft, so smooth.

Once he had you dripping, he lay back down and ordered, “Sit on my face, and suck my cock while you’re at it.”

You followed, undoing his zipper and pulling his boxers and jeans off his semi-hard cock. You tentatively licked his head as you positioned your pussy right about his face. Sukuna pushed your skirt up and ripped your panties with a practised ease, pulling your hips down to his face. He loved having you like that. Every time he flicked his tongue against your clit your pussy would visibly tighten. You’d drool down the length of his cock hypnotised. Tongue flat against it as you struggled to maintain composure. It wouldn’t take long for him to make you cum all over his face for the first time. Legs quivering and hips shaking he brought you down again, laying you on the hood for him.

He lined up his cock – now rock hard from your mouth – with your entrance and sank into you. Slowly pushing his bulbous head, followed by his girthy length. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

Sukuna thrust up into you. Your lips were hot and burning. You felt a wave of emotion come through and tears welled up in your eyes.

“Fuck Ryo— feels s’good!”

Sukuna snarled and increased his pace. His eyes glinted dangerously. “Feels good, huh kitty-kat! Gonna make you mine. No man’s gonna dare fuck with you again.” His movements were rough and jagged but drew out the pleasure in your core. The tightly wound knot in your abdomen built up with each movement, each drawn out pull, each hard thrust. You arched your back desperate to have him more, more, more!

Your second climax hit just as Sukuna grabbed a fistful of your hair. Your cunt spasmed, clasping around him and you cried out his name in a debauched prayer.

Sukuna looked more composed than he felt. His cock throbbed inside you, attuned to the flutters of your pussy. Just because you’d come didn’t mean he would stop. He chased his own release inside of you pulling your hair back, devouring your lips. His cock bullied you to the point of overstimulation. Tears ran down your cheeks again but this time they were those of pleasure.

He came, towering over you, eyes squeezed shut, head buried in the crook of your neck. His giant frame collapsed onto you and he carefully rolled off to the side so he wouldn't crush you.

“So, about that husband thing…”

You turned to look at him, blushing. “Ryo…”

He held up a ring; the ring his father left him. Gold work, carved into a dragon that held a shiny black pearl in its claws.

“I’ll get you a prettier one later, I promise but for now…” he took a deep breath. “Marry me, kitty-kat?”

A/N: please note this was a very hurried creation and edit, if you do find any errors or typos feel free to point them out KINDLY. Thank you for reading.

As always likes and reblogs are much appreciated and comments will earn you kissies!

[holylulusworld]

Lumberjack Tales - The Hairy Bear (3)

Summary: He ruins what you had...

Pairing: Lumberjack!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, Ari being a douche for a moment, sad reader, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy scare, mentions of being unemployed, money problems (implied), remorse, we love Bear

This story is part of my Lumberjack Tales masterlist

Catch up here: Lumberjack Tales - The Hairy Bear (2)

A/N: I added the first details of the following request to this part.

Your days off flew by faster than you wanted. Ari and you spend every moment together, lots of cuddling and sex included.

Before you knew it, you called your boss to quit your job. Ari told you more than once that he wants you to stay – forever.

He seemed to be adamant about keeping you around. And you, well you, wouldn’t want to leave him, his cabin, and Bear for all the money in the world.

It was the first time in your life that you got the feeling you found your haven, a place where you belong, and are wanted.

“Ari,” you call for your lover and maybe future boyfriend. “Baby? Do you want to join me for a walk? We could take Bear too.”

Ari doesn’t answer. He came back from another grocery run half an hour ago. Ari didn’t say much. He simply carried all bags inside, and even ignored when Bear nuzzled his leg.

Assuming he had another encounter with the, in his words, annoying town folk, you snicker. Ari just hates having too many people around. You don’t know what happened, but he likes staying to himself – hence the cabin in the middle of nowhere.

A minute passes by, and another without a word from Ari. You sigh and decide to help him unpack the groceries. Winter is close, and Ari wants to restock his pantry.

“Ari?” You walk inside the kitchen, smirking as Ari is busy cleaning the counter. Last night you had sex on it, and you didn’t have the time to clean it yet. He huffs and snatches your panties from the ground to throw them into the trash can.

“Shit everywhere…” He mutters, still not looking at you. “Everywhere…”

“Can I help you?” You step closer to Ari, to hug him from behind and rest your head against his back. “We ruined it together. Let me lend you a hand.”

“Christ, can you leave me alone for five minutes?” He raises his voice, making you flinch. “It feels like you’re breathing down my neck all the time. Sometimes, a man needs time on his own. You’re suffocating me! Why are you so clingy all the time.”

You stiffen and immediately drop your arms. Stepping away from Ari, you feel like someone punched you in the guts. Not days ago, he told you again that he wanted you to stay forever, and now, Ari is telling you he hates having you around.

“Alright,” you try not to choke on the tears welling up in your eyes. “I’ll leave you to…cleaning.”

Ari huffs when you run out of the kitchen, and upstairs. He believes you’ll give him space and come back down later to join him for breakfast.

Bear whines as he looks at his owner. The Estrela Mountain Dog dips its head to watch its owner angrily scrub the kitchen counter. “Not now, Bear. I had a shitty day. My fucking ex-wife called, that blood-sucking bitch…”

“Shoes, pants, wallet,” you sniffle while throwing all of your belongings into your backpack. You wipe your eyes and choke out a sob. How could you believe Ari wants more from you than sex? Of course, he’s already bored and wants you gone. “That’s all.”

Ari left the house to go for a walk with Bear some time ago. This way, you don’t have to say goodbye. You’ll just sneak out and find your way back to civilization and loneliness.

Grabbing your backpack, you sigh. For a few weeks, you believed you found a home. Now you know better. No man can be trusted. Especially not the kind looking like he came right out of a wet dream.

You slowly walk out of the room, not looking back. If you turn around, you’ll break down and cry. That’s the last thing Ari wants, a whiny and desperate woman clinging to him. Maybe he even believes after you quit your job for him that you are after his money.

Shaking your head, you decide to not think of him any longer. It was great while it lasted. You had a great time and awesome sex. You’ll remember your time with Ari for what it was – a late summer fling.

“Y/N? Uh—I’m back. Listen,” Ari jogs upstairs to apologize for his earlier outburst. He was angry after hearing from his ex-wife after so long. The last thing he wanted was to yell at you. “Baby? I’m sorry for yelling. It’s just that…”

Ari stops in his tracks. He gasps when he finds the bedroom empty. “Y/N?” He rubs his scruffy chin. Something is wrong. All of your clothes are gone. Even the ones you carelessly dropped to the ground when you jumped at him to suck him off last night. “Baby?”

Bear trots inside the room. The huge dog whines loudly as you are nowhere to be found.

“Do you think she’s shopping?” Ari asks his dog. He furrows his brows as Bear lies down, and whines again. “Fuck…no…fuck!”

Sitting down on the bed, he buries his face in his hands. He screams your name, angrily stomping his feet. “I fucked up big time!”

Ari aimlessly drives around the area. He searches his property, every inch of it. In town, no one saw you, and you’re not answering your phone.

“Bear, I don’t even know where she’s living,” Ari hits the brakes hard when he sees someone walking along the road. He cranes his neck, only to see the cashier from the store in town wave at him. “Not her.”

He slams his hands on the steering wheel, cursing himself for ruining the best thing ever happening to him. “She’s gone, and it’s all my fucking fault.”

The first days back at your old place felt wrong—just wrong. You missed Ari's scent and his voice. You barely slept, not only because you felt like your heart got ripped out, but also because you found yourself in desperate need of a new job.

How foolish of you to quit your job for some guy you met not weeks ago.

“Fucking idiot,” you call yourself a needy and stupid bitch. “Only because his dick was good, you fucked up your career and will lose your apartment. Loser bitch. This is so typical of you.”

Four weeks have passed, and you feel numb. Not only did you not get your job back, but you’ve got another problem, and your time with Ari left more than a bad taste in your mouth.

Hot tears run down your cheeks, realizing you took too many risks by giving in to the charming and sexy man. Again, you tell yourself that you should’ve known better.

“Bear, come on,” Ari urges his dog. He finally found a trace of you. It took him almost six weeks to find out more about you, and your life. All he knew was your name. Nothing else was important while you were still around. Ari told himself, he could ask questions later and enjoy the blooming relationship you built. “We got to find her.”

Bear barks as Ari tugs at the dog leash. He sits down and whines loudly. “Stop making a fuss, you big beast. We have a job to do. Get up.”

The Estrela Mountain Dog remains where he’s seated. “What’s wrong with you?” Ari shakes his head. “We finally found her, and now you keep me from going to her?”

Ari huffs as his dog jumps up. Bear wags his tail and barks loudly. The dog suddenly starts running to chase after someone.

“Bear! Wait! Wait up!” Ari runs after his dog, dodging people here and there. “You stubborn beast. WAIT!”

Bear suddenly stops. Jumps at someone, making Ari yell his dog’s name louder.

“No! Stop attacking people. What are you doing?” His heart stops for a second watching Bear nuzzle your belly. The huge beast is whining for your attention as you carefully pat his head. “Bear, you beast found her!”

While you crouch down to wrap your arms around Bear, his owner steps closer. He watches you pat his dog while trying to find the words to apologize.

“There you are,” Ari huffs. “You must love watching me chase you.” He steps closer to grab Bear’s dog leash. “We will discuss your behavior on our way back.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You get back up to glare at Ari. “You wanted your freedom and silence back. I gave you what you wanted.”

You turn to leave, ignoring Bear whining louder. “I didn’t want you to leave. Y/N, I was having a bad day and yelled at you. I’m sorry.” Ari puts his hand on your shoulder, but you shake it off. “We could’ve talked things out, but you just ran. I needed weeks to find you. How could you just leave me?”

“How could you treat me like an intruder and a liability?” You snap at Ari. “All the time you told me to stay, and I believed you. I quit my job for you, only to get kicked out!”

“Y/N, I did not kick you out!” He growls. “You left! I came back and wanted to apologize, only to find you gone. I was scared to hell and back! Do you know how many nights I asked myself if you are still alive?”

You shrug. “You have a life to go back to, Ari. I suggest you enjoy your solitary, and I’ll take care of…” Biting your tongue, you look at the envelope in your hands. “Whatever.”

“Y/N,” he whispers your name when you are about to walk away. “Please. Let’s go somewhere else, and have a coffee. We can talk and fix this. It was all just a misunderstanding.”

Ari looks around the area, frowning as his eyes drift toward the building you left.

“There’s nothing to fix.” You want to walk away, but Bear blocks your path. “Bear, no!”

“A doctor?” Ari sucks in a breath. “Y/N. Baby, are you sick? Fuck.” Ari wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. “How do you feel? What is wrong with you?”

You take a deep breath and say, “I’m pregnant…”

Tags in reblog.

[lust-for-ultraviolence]

Helluva Boss pride picture:

The obnoxious owl strutted about beside his "impish plaything". Blitzø looked in the rear view mirror and said "oh shit, isn't that your bitch-ass fucking ex-wife?". Stolas turned to see that trailing behind the small pride parade was none other than Stella, wrapped in a lesbian flag. Stolas immediately started crying, "why is that meeanie here!?". After everyone consoled Stolas because he's the only one that matters, he approached his ex. Octavia tried to hug her mom, but stolas pushed her away.

"What are you here for? To torture me some more?" asked Stolas, whom was crying yet again. Stella looked at him, bewildered. "Are you serious? You think I'm in a pride parade to bother YOU? I'm here because I'm gay!" She huffed, trying to shove past the self centred cry baby. "Noooo! I'm the gay one! You're a homophobic straight woman" Stolas whined. Stella had had it with this guy. "You think you're the only gay person to be forced into a shitty, empty, straight marriage?? I've had to hide who I am just as much as you have! Where's MY sympathy? Where's MY song?" She shouted. The whole parade was watching in awkward silence.

Octavia succefully re-approached the pair, and hugged Stella tightly. "Oh mum, I'm so sorry. It must be so painful for you. Come up front with me. Let's be proud of who we are together". She said. Stella beamed at her daughter and walked away without another look at stolas. "But lesbians aren't important!" Stolas started crying. Suddenly, right as Stolas was going to break out into a whiny song, he was trampled by a horse. The rider of the horse held a huge nonbinary flag. Blitzø, Moxxie, and Millie gasp as the nonbinary rider is none other than Striker. He slows the horse just for a moment and says, "fuck you all for not including nonbinary people" and rode off into the sunset, the beautiful flag trailing behind him.

Lmao I'm sorry I'm not a writer but I thought this was funny. I also read a post about, like, what if Stella is a lesbian/Sapphic? And I just HAD to make this happen.

[muddyorbsblr]

a helping hand

See my full list of works here!

Summary: When Loki enters the office and sees you visibly shaken with your eyes swollen, he takes it upon himself to find out what's wrong and how he could help

Friendship: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: talks of divorce and infidelity; mentions of a shitty ex husband; shitty coworkers that like to kick people when they're down; language [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: not a romantic story; just the slightest hints that this Loki is the head of a company that has some shady dealings (crime boss…he's kinda a crime boss)

The frantic scurrying of the ladies on the office floor had you furiously wiping away at the tears that hadn't stopped falling since last night. You pressed the cold metal tip of your under eye cream to the swollen parts of your eyes in hopes of making it a little less obvious that your heart was so ruthlessly stomped into the ground last night.

She's everything you're not, your soon to be ex husband's words taunted at you, his smug voice getting louder with every attempt to block it out and paint a smile on your face. Young, pretty, and fuck me she's hot. Looks like she actually puts an effort into her appearance.

You did your best to focus on evening out your breathing, trying not to think about working out the logistics now that you were facing a divorce. If you weren't smart about this and you agreed to all his terms you might just be getting out of this without a penny to your fucking name.

"Pfft, you're gonna need the entire fucking tube if you want to even make a dent of a difference. Might as well not even bother trying, Y/N," one of the women in the research department, Tammy, sneered. Even going so far as to stop her scurrying just to spew her irrational hatred toward you.

"Can you just…not for today, Tammy? I'm having a shitty week." You didn't even have it in you to sound remotely as pissed as you were at her. The words just came out of you with barely a whisper, like you'd already thrown in the towel before the first round even started.

"Hmm, a shitty week to go with your shitty face. Sounds like the world's finally healing," she spat, immediately straightening her stance and shutting up when the ding of the elevator practically echoed across the entire floor.

Everyone had to be in their best behavior now. Mr Laufeyson had arrived, and your boss wasn't too keen to hear any "banal gossiping drivel" while he was breathing the same air as his employees. Something about how this type of nonsensical talk consistently lowered the average IQ of the entire country with every passing day and he refused to cultivate a workplace that contributed to that atrocity.

Which suited you just fine; you rather enjoyed the quiet. And when spiteful gossips were no longer allowed to do the very thing that seemed to serve as their lifeblood, the floor tended to be so silent you could hear exactly whose heartbeat sped up whenever Loki started nearing your desks.

"Cease your blathering, everyone. I wish not to hear a single word unless it pertains to oppositional research that could increase our advantage to securing future dealings with the Mancini family. By the end of the day I want to know exactly how to woo every deciding member and--" He stopped in his tracks the second he was in front of your desk, eyes scrupulously scanning your features before clearing his throat and addressing the floor again. "And planning out the most efficient way to influence their decision to lean toward us."

He walked toward the door to his office, your cue to send him his itinerary for the day before you aided where you could in the Mancini research. But before he stepped through the door, he spoke again. Significantly softer this time. Gentler, even.

"Y/L/N, may I speak with you a moment in my office?"

A barely-contained snort was heard from Tammy's desk, a smug look on her face as she drew a line across her neck while keeping direct eye contact with you. "You're fucking done," she mouthed toward you, only returning to work with back ramrod straight when your boss turned to glare daggers at her.

"Of--Of course, Sir." You picked up your tablet, pulling up his calendar and readying the words you were going to say as you walked into his office.

"Please, darling, have a seat." You knew better than to protest against quite anything he said. Even with the change in his tone and his wording, you knew it was an order more than a request, so you followed. "Now tell me what happened."

"P-Pardon?" you sputtered, wincing when you let out the most unladylike sniffle to try breathing a bit better.

"Your eyes are red. Swollen red," he stated, briefing pointing a finger to his own face. "And you're one of the most unshakable persons I've had the privilege of knowing. You've stared down with ruthless individuals with records so colored it made my brother take a step back sometimes, and you wouldn't even break a single sweat. You've even dealt with that gossiping nuisance Tabitha Stevenson on a near hourly basis more gracefully than she deserves. And yet here you are. With eyes that could only have gotten in this state if you'd been crying for hours, or even the entire night. Something happened to you since you left the office last night that caused this."

"Sir really it's--It's nothing you should concern yourself with it's…" You couldn't find it in you to say that it was banal. It wasn't to you. But it would be to him, without a doubt.

"Whatever has you shaken enough to cry through the night and arrive at the office so visibly distressed is not nothing, Y/N," he insisted, still keeping with his gentler tone as if he was concerned that even the slightest raising of his voice would bring forth more tears. "Is it something at home? A family concern? Do you need a few days to spend at home and--"

"Home is the last place I want to be right now," you blurted out, nearly hissing the words and clearly taking your boss aback at how you were practically tripping over your words. You sighed, doing your best to take a deep, shaky breath before finally answering him. "Rupert served me with divorce papers last night, and the son of a bitch is practically evicting me from the house. I have until Friday's end to 'clear my useless shit out', his words not mine. Says he met someone new and he can't wait to start his new life with her."

"Y/N, it's Thursday," he grumbled, his eyes darkening as he processed your words. "This miscreant expects you to have your entire life in less than 36 hours?"

"Oh no, even less," you clarified, Loki's nostrils flaring at your answer. "He doesn't want to even see me clearing them out so I have to work around his schedule. Then comes the entire journey of finding somewhere to stay on such short notice. I have half a mind to just get a room at a cheap ass motel--"

"Surely I've compensated you more than enough these last few years that you can afford accommodations far nicer than a dingy motel." He grimaced at the mere thought.

"You have, Sir, really. But I've been…stupid. Have been my entire marriage, if I'm being honest now that I don't have any rose-tinted glasses on. Our accounts are joint. And I have to think about retaining a divorce lawyer just so I can even think about getting out of this with at least some of the things I came to have since we got married, so I have to be a bit frugal where I can--"

"Alright, this is what you're going to do," he cut you off, suddenly taking on the more authoritative tone that you were used to. "Provide my men with the alarm codes for the house and they will see to removing your belongings by tonight."

"Sir, really there's no need for--"

"They will be transported to my home where you will stay to regain your bearings, and find a new home at your own pace. Not at the pace your former husband demands." Your breath caught in an ugly sound in your throat at the plans he just so casually dropped. Living with him? Was he insane? "As for a lawyer, I shall confer with my own slew of attorneys who they can recommend that specializes in divorce settlements. He won't get away with the money you worked hard for if I have anything to say about it."

"Why?" you blurted out a bit louder than you intended to. He raised an eyebrow at you, questioning your reaction. "Why would you wanna get involved in this, I mean you don't have any stakes in this, I just work for you I'm replaceable I'm--"

"No you're not," he cut you off, taking your hands in his. "Your presence has given this place a warmth, a comfort. You have a sharp wit that makes conversations less droning, a kindness that soothes me when I have to find myself here in the office. I may value your contributions both tangible and intangible when it comes to our various business dealings, but I also value your company. Perhaps I am simply an employer to you, but you are a friend to me. And I've not many of those in my life, so I tend to ensure that I do what I can to keep them safe. And as far away from struggle as my means can manage."

His words left you completely speechless, only managing to utter a simple sentiment in return. "Thank you, my friend."

A/N: Made this for @alexakeyloveloki. Bestie if I could reach across the screen and give you a big hug and a blankie I would, but also the sight of me crawling out of a screen might just be some horror movie levels of nightmare fuel, so maybe it's best that I can't 😅

Lemme just leave this lil gif of Tomathy giving a hug and a head kith instead 💖

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemis @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

[lovelyhan]

— inflection point ⟢

pairing: jeonghan x reader x seungcheol

summary: things make a turn for the worse (or the better?) when jeonghan leaves you with the most insufferable person on earth. but maybe a few weeks alone is exactly what you and seungcheol needed after all.

word count: 8.3k words

tags: unresolved emotional tension, established relationship, angst, smut

warnings: implied alcohol consumption, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: here's part two! this is mostly cheol and mc unknowingly picking up the pieces from their past breakup while jeonghan is away. nothing like getting to know someone you used to love all over again, right?

additional notes: the first part has been flagged so it's virtually invisible now :| you can go visit it in my masterlist if it still hasn't showed up in the tags!

part one - part two - part three | masterlist

To say that you’re nervous is a terrible understatement.

Today is the day you’re supposed to meet Jeonghan’s boyfriend, who’s technically your boyfriend as well, now that you’ve agreed to this odd arrangement. You fidget with your phone beneath the table when Jeonghan excuses himself to fetch him from the restaurant’s entrance. 

It should be fine, right? Your boss already took you to dinner before, and he has a knack for setting an atmosphere comfortable for everyone in attendance. Jeonghan just has this charismatic air to him that makes him easy to be with. A mediator of sorts. 

He reassured you before you both left the office today that his lover is the most accommodating person you’d ever meet. Though, Jeonghan hasn’t really mentioned his name at all—saying he wanted his boyfriend to tell it to you himself. 

So there you are, not-so patiently waiting for them to return to your table. 

When Jeonghan finally comes back with another person in tow, you perk up with curiosity, running over all the introductions you practiced in your head.

Hi, it’s nice to meet you! Thanks for letting me exclusively join your relationship!

Fuck. That already sounds so bad in your head, what more if you say the words—

“Here he is,” Jeonghan says, while pulling out the vacant seat on your table, smiling fondly at his lover. “I really do hope you get along.”

Five minutes ago, you hoped that, too.

Except when you finally see the face of the other man you’re supposed to be in a relationship with, your heart nearly drops into your stomach. 

“Hi,” Choi Seungcheol says with that stupid dimpled smile of his. “I’m Seungcheol. It’s nice to meet you.”

What’s the protocol for when you unexpectedly land yourself into a relationship with the same person you spent literal years getting over? You have no idea. What you do know is that, from the hopeful smile that Jeonghan flashes at the both of you, and the obviously practiced grin plastered on Seungcheol’s face, the former isn’t privy to your relationship with the latter.

Erm. Past relationship.

You take a deep breath through your nose—forcing down all those years of heartbreak and longing and loneliness—and give him a smile of your own.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” you say, and if either of them notice how your voice cracked, they don’t say anything about it.

“Let’s take care of each other, yeah?”

…

“So what you meant to say is,” Jihoon starts, and it takes every ounce of willpower to keep holding his accusatory stare, “the guy who dumped you after taking your virginity, the legendary shitty ex, is the same guy you’re dating with Jeonghan now?”

“Say sike. Like, right now,” Soonyoung scowls once Jihoon lays out his deduction, but you can’t really take the guy seriously with his cheeks stuffed with popcorn.

“I would if I could, and you know it, Soonie.” 

In your defense, you didn’t mean to come clean about Seungcheol’s identity to them during game night at their apartment. But one of the reasons why you begged them to hold your monthly hang-outs here is that Jeonghan is leaving for Busan tomorrow morning, and you’re a little over your head with the fact that you’re spending two weeks alone with Seungcheol.

Sure, he’s become marginally less of an asshole after upgrading the furniture in their bedroom to cater to you specifically, but you’re not about to let your guard down. God knows when Seungcheol will switch back to being the prissy jerk that’s been tormenting you for the past two months. Especially with Jeonghan out of the picture, your sanity is free fucking real estate.

“Okay, let’s skip the part where we talk about how weird that is, and what a small goddamn world we live in.” Thank the heavens for Jihoon, really. Always the logical one. “But why didn’t you tell us your ex-boyfriend is a star football player. What the fuck?”

…Or not.

“Really? After everything I just told you, you’re choosing to focus on that ?” You shoot him a grimace before dipping your hand in the popcorn bowl for a quick bite. “For the record, I haven’t heard anything about Seungcheol until he walked into that restaurant and introduced himself as Jeonghan’s boyfriend. I only found out that he was a big shot athlete a week after we started dating, too!”

“Isn’t that a good thing, though?” Soonyoung wonders before kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “Never mind the fact that he’s the same guy that took you ten years to get over, but you’re dating two filthy rich, and ridiculously hot men now! What more could you ask for?”

You groan, burying your face in your palms. “Did you two seriously not listen to a single word I said? Jeonghan has no idea that we’re exes, and we have to act like we don’t hate each other whenever he’s around!”

Jihoon raises an eyebrow. “But didn’t you say Seungcheol explicitly told you last night that he doesn’t hate you?”

“Oh, so you were listening after all.” You huff.

“We listened to the whole thing, you know.” Soonyoung pouts. “But honestly, all I heard was ‘I’m an idiot who can’t swallow her pride, so I’ll just act like I despise him because it’s easier than having to admit that I’m still in love with him.’” 

Jihoon practically cackles as he leans across the couch to give Soonyoung a high five—like the bestest fucking friends in the universe. You shoot both of them a chilling glare with your tail between your legs, not liking how they dissected your dilemma in under five minutes.

“Okay, okay. We’re sorry,” Jihoon placates, offering you some more popcorn as a peace offering. “It’s just that you’re probably making this whole thing more complicated than it actually is. I mean, yeah, he was kind of a dick for ditching you like that, but weren’t you also a dick for deciding that you could only choose one or the other? Seungcheol or Seoul?”

“Yeah, haven’t you heard of long distance relationships?” Soonyoung wonders before snapping his fingers like an idea just occurred to him. “Actually, maybe you didn’t have to keep up the LDR for long? He ended up living in Seoul just like you did, right?”

Once they’ve laid those ideas on the table, Jihoon and Soonyoung both cast you another round of disbelieving stares—making you want to crawl under their couch and just rot with the dust bunnies. 

“Fine! I was a bit too hasty back then, I admit that!” You chew on your bottom lip, unable to come up with anything in your defense. “But, but…”

Soonyoung rises from his seat with a long sigh, walking over to your spot to engulf you in a tight hug. You resist his affection for a few seconds, not wanting to give in too easily, but you end up caving into his touch either way.

“Hey, you fucked up, and that’s okay,” he murmurs as he smooths down your hair. “But don’t you think it’s unfair for Seungcheol if you keep acting like he’s the only one who messed up? It’s just like Jihoon told me once: relationships are a two-way street. Well, a three-way street in your case, but that's not the point.”

You sniffle, surprised at the tears that are pooling along your lashes. “But he always acts so hostile. It didn’t make sense to me when he said he didn’t hate me because whenever Jeonghan isn’t around, it’s obvious that he still hasn’t forgiven me…”

“What if he’s just giving you back the same energy you gave to him?” Jihoon hypothesizes. “Be honest, who fired the first shot?” 

“...Right after we had dinner at that restaurant, I kind of told him I’m only doing this for Jeonghan. Might not have been too nice about the delivery either.”

Again, your two best friends share a look—like they don’t know what to do with you anymore. 

That makes three of you then.

“Okay, from what you’ve told us, I can say for sure that Seungcheol probably wants to fix things with you,” Jihoon offers with a reassuring smile. “One hundred percent. The only thing that’s stopping him is…well, you.”

Soonyoung nods. “He can’t make things right if you don’t let him, silly.”

“It’s actually better that Jeonghan is going away for a while ‘cause the two of you can have some time to sort everything out.” You’re about to sharply ask how in the world that makes things better, but Jihoon puts up a hand to shut you up. “If Jeonghan is there, you two will be too busy trying to butter him up with lies to actually sit down and hold a proper conversation.”

“Just…just try to hear out what the guy has to say, yeah?” Soonyoung suggests while squeezing you in his arms again. “While you’re at it, you can explain to him that you were young and hasty and overly-emotional—”

“Hey!”

“—and let’s see where we can go from there.”

Silence fills the room as your best friends stare at you with equally expectant looks—hoping that you wouldn’t fuck this up now that a rare second chance has been granted. You sigh as your gaze lingers on the forgotten UNO cards on the coffee table. 

Still, maybe going to them for advice might’ve been the best decision you’ve made so far.

“Okay, I’ll try,” you grumble as you push Soonyoung away. “No promises that I’ll do it without any blunders though…”

“And that’s more than enough for us,” Soonyoung says cheerily before picking the cards back up. “Now let’s team up and destroy Jihoon this round, yeah?”

...

You absolutely despise having to get up and out of bed earlier than the time your alarm goes off. But when the day of Jeonghan’s business trip finally comes, you find it easy to prepare for work despite the fact that it’s only four in the morning, and you don’t have to time in for another four hours. 

Jeonghan texts you that they’re right outside your apartment, and it only takes one glance at your window to confirm the presence of Seungcheol’s car idling by the curb. After going over all the things you’re set to bring to their house, you text him back, saying that you’ll be down in three minutes.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Jeonghan greets from the passenger seat with a relaxed smile. “You really didn’t have to come. I know how much you hate getting up early.”

“I’d hate it even more if I didn’t get to kiss you goodbye, though,” you chuckle as Seungcheol takes your travel bag and helps put it inside the trunk. 

The moment he pulls it shut, you blurt out:

“Good morning, Seungcheol.”

He looks so surprised, you wonder if what you said was remotely offensive. But after reminding yourself of how you’ve treated each other for the past two months, you suppose the reaction is completely warranted.

Baby steps, you muse. You’ll both make things right one day. For Jeonghan and for yourselves.

“Good morning,” he grumbles, and for some reason, his words send a fluttering sensation blooming across your chest.

Okay, what the fuck?

You think you did a pretty good job ignoring the strange reaction that Seungcheol unknowingly pulled from you in the next thirty minutes. Well, mostly because you spent the entire ride to Jeonghan’s station fast asleep, but that’s besides the point.

Though as you drift in and out of consciousness, you can hear bits and pieces of conversation coming from the front. Not like you’re conscious enough to make sense of any of their words, though. 

“You sure you’ll both be okay while I’m gone?” Jeonghan pouts when you’re literally right in front of the entrance—looking more like a needy puppy than the boss of a reputable corporation. “Call me if anything comes up, okay?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Weren’t you the one who insisted that we’ll be just fine, Hannie? Now, get in there before you’re late for boarding.”

Jeonghan continues to surprise you by pulling you closer by the waist, pressing a long, fervent kiss on your lips. Your eyes widen at the suddenness of his gesture, but this is Jeonghan. You can never resist him if you try. 

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips. “Try to get along with Cheol while I’m gone, yeah?”

You shoot him a puzzled look before pressing another kiss on the corner of his lip. “What do you mean? We get along just fine.”

He flashes you a tight-lipped smile before turning to Seungcheol. “You, mister, are going to take care of our princess here. Got that?”

“Copy,” Seunghceol lets out a low, deep laugh before pulling Jeonghan closer to plant a soft kiss on his forehead. “Take care over there. Earn us enough money for a comfortable retirement for three.”

“Oh, you bet I will.”

You and Seungcheol linger by the entrance until Jeonghan disappears into the bustling crowd of commuters en-route to other, far-away places. But you only notice how closely you’re standing next to each other when he catches your attention by tapping your wrist.

“What is it?” you ask, swallowing awkwardly. 

Seungcheol takes a moment to glance at his smartwatch, 5:24 A.M flashing on-screen.

“You want to grab breakfast before I drive you to work?”

If he asked you the same question a month ago, you would’ve spat something along the lines of in your dreams before stomping off to the nearest taxi bay. But you remember that you’re a fully functioning adult who still has mistakes to make up for. 

So, with a deep breath, you say:

“Sounds like a plan.”

…

By ‘breakfast’, you expected Seungcheol to just drop by a McDonald’s Drive Thru so you could both munch on burgers and stale french fries in the parking lot. But you’re reminded of the fact that he literally earns about seven digits’ worth of won whenever he’s playing in a season. 

You’re suddenly grateful for having enough foresight to dress smart casual—not the oversized hoodie and sweats you intended at first—because Seungcheol thought it was a good idea to bring you to a five-star restaurant at the crack of dawn. 

“Mister Choi, it’s nice to have you back,” the waiter at the front desk greets with a bow. 

Seungcheol nods. “Table for two. Al fresco.”

“Understood. Some of our staff will be with you shortly.”

You’re not completely unfamiliar with all these fancy settings. Your line of work requires you to follow Jeonghan and his secretary, Joshua, around for a lot of pretentious business dinners. This is just one of the many places you’ve felt out of place, but you like to think you’re already used to blending in.

When a waitress leads the two of you towards the balcony, where you’re granted a panoramic view of the city just before dawn, you nearly forget to breathe.

“Nice view, isn’t it?” Seungcheol’s voice suddenly snaps you out of it as he helps you into your seat—making your cheeks glow red with embarrassment. “Our coach likes coming here whenever he needs to meet us. Thought you’d appreciate the ambience, too.”

“Gotta say, it’s a huge upgrade from those old ice cream parlor dates,” you tell him a bit too loosely, and when you realize what you just said to him, it’s a little too late. 

You try to gauge Seungcheol’s reaction from the corner of your eye—looking for any signs of offense—but if anything, he even looks pleased by the reference. The lanterns hanging overhead bring forth the small smile on his lips, and you don’t like how Seungcheol is starting to make your heart race the same way Jeonghan does.

The same way he used to all those years ago. 

In a poor attempt at dismissing these strange sensations, you bury your nose into the menu instead.

You wonder what’s wrong with you all of a sudden. You’ve spent weeks fueled by anger alone whenever you and Seungcheol are at each other’s throats. But now that you’ve psyched yourself out with the determination to make things right, you’re at an impasse.

With the disdain that you wore like armor having been stripped away, you’ve never felt more vulnerable. Seungcheol isn’t even doing anything except scrolling through his phone, but you feel like your heart’s going to explode in the next few seconds.

Suddenly, you’re a teenager again, but this time the boy you're catching feelings for is actually a fucking football player who can buy out your entire existence.

“Stare at me any more, and you might just put a hole through my skull,” Seungcheol says without glancing up from his screen—making you flinch and hide your face behind the menu again. “Oh, and if you can’t decide on what to eat, their waffles are pretty good.”

That makes you raise an eyebrow, lowering your makeshift shield. “How would you know? Don’t you hate waffles?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “Don’t you love them? I’m just saying because one of my teammates gave me a bite last time, and it wasn’t too bad.”

You try not to think about the implications of why both of you still remember that about each other, flipping through the pages of the menu instead. When you do spot a delectable preview of the waffles, though, you’re immediately sold.

The waitress comes by to take your orders a few minutes later. As she asks if both of you wanted to order coffee in advance, Seungcheol speaks on your behalf.

“Just one coffee and your best hot chocolate.”

Your mouth hangs agape even when the waitress makes her leave, and Seungcheol glances at you with brows raised. “Oh, shit. Do you not prefer hot chocolate over coffee anymore?”

“No, I still do,” you mumble. “I was just…surprised you still remembered.”

Seungcheol doesn’t reply, but you don’t miss the way his ears turn red as the dark sky begins to light up behind him.

There’s nothing remotely romantic about that breakfast run, really. The waffles are good, so is the hot chocolate. But not even those little recollections from the past could ease you and Seungcheol back to normalcy so easily. Worst part is, this is the first time you’ve eaten outside without Jeonghan, so the entire meal is spent in the most awkward of silences.

But…when the sun finally rises in the far east, you and Seungcheol find a momentary common ground. Both of your gazes are trained on the way it peeks above the high rise buildings and skyscrapers—the iridescent rays breaking through both the clouds and the darkness of the night.

Before you knew it, it was a brand new day.

The fascination brought about by the sunrise doesn’t last all that long. You and Seungcheol are back to finishing your food in the ear-splitting silence like usual. However, you can’t help but sneak a few glances every now and again—especially with how the sunlight makes him look even more vibrant than he already is.

No one would catch you admitting to it, but he looks gorgeous like this. Gorgeous enough to make you wonder where everything went wrong.

Except you do know, and you’re hell-bent on fixing…whatever this is before Jeonghan comes back.

“If you don’t mind me asking…”

Seungcheol’s dark eyes flicker to meet yours with an inquisitive stare. “What?”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you continue, “When did you move to Seoul? Actually, when did you even start playing professionally?”

He swallows down his food before reaching for a glass of water. You try not to pay too much attention to how his throat bobs with each gulp. It’s way too early to get your head into the gutter—

“Right after college, I got scouted to train under the professional league in Seoul,” he explains. “I only started playing in official games about…three years ago, though.”

You nibble on your bottom lip, unsure of how he’ll take your next question.

“Why didn’t you come find me then?”

There it is—silence even more awkward than the last. Seungcheol affixes you with an unreadable stare that makes you want to squirm beneath his gaze. But instead of prolonging your suffering, he simply lets out a soft sigh. 

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me again after what I did,” he says honestly. “Besides, it’s been…years since we split up. I thought you would’ve already moved on by then.”

It took me ten fucking years to move on from you but okay.

You nod before taking a sip of your hot chocolate. “I see. How did you meet Jeonghan?”

“Friend of a friend,” Seungcheol tells you. “Kind of thought he was a nuisance at first, but you know how he gets when he wants something.”

That, you can agree on. “Unstoppable.”

“I was at his mercy,” he attests with a soft laugh. “It took a while, but I fell in love with him eventually. Then we moved in together. Then—”

“He suddenly brings up the fact that he’s attracted to one of his employees?” you supply with an uneasy smile.

Seungcheol shakes his head. “Jeonghan has more tact than that, you know. But he was honest about how he felt about you, and asked if I was open to the idea of going for the set-up we have now.” 

“Were you?”

You thought he’d exercise some caution answering that. Or at least show you a hint of hesitation. But Seungcheol is surprisingly not taken aback by your question, and answers with, “Strange enough, yeah. Normally, I’m really possessive of him, but when he came up to me that day and proposed the idea…I was completely alright with it.”

Your brows scrunch together. “Is it because you knew it was me?” 

“God, no,” he sighs. “If I knew it was you, I would’ve disagreed right away. When I saw you at the restaurant that day, I had to keep myself from running back outside.”

“Ditto,” you chuckle. “It was like the universe giving me the biggest fuck you in existence.”

For the first time in years, the two of you share an easygoing laugh—the morning light making you feel even warmer than you already are. 

You and Seungcheol finish up with the rest of your meals after that. It’ll take a while for you to reach the office since this particular restaurant is a bit out of the way. You don’t blame Seungcheol for his urgency as he leads you back to the parking lot, seeing as you only have about an hour left before Joshua marks you off as a latecomer.

The drive back is quiet, but it’s, by no means, awkward or uncomfortable. Seungcheol talks to you every now and again, asking if he should sort out your stuff for you once he takes your suitcase home or if you wanted to organize it yourself. His thoughtfulness flusters you so much, you end up not giving him an answer at all.

When you’re finally in front of your office building with ten minutes to spare—never underestimate rush hour traffic—Seungcheol tugs on your elbow before you get out of his car.

“Did you mean it?” he asks. 

You tilt your head, confused. “Mean what?”

“When you said you were only doing this for Jeonghan?”

Oh. He still remembers what you said at the restaurant, the first time you saw him after years.

You consider it for a moment—only a moment, since you’re burning daylight here. Back then, you’re sure you meant every single word. You were shocked and hurt by Seungcheol’s mere presence in front of you, but because you loved Jeonghan so much, you were willing to make a few compromises just to be with him.

Now, though?

“I…don’t know,” you admit. 

There’s a first for everything—and this is the first time you’ve ever seen Choi Seungcheol’s face light up in the face of uncertainty.

…

Your arrangement is pretty simple. 

Seungcheol drives you to and from work whenever he doesn’t have games, and you agree to cook him some dinner as compensation.

Tonight, though, your chaperone has a practice match that’s running a little late, so you decide to hang back in the office even later than Joshua, who’s usually the last person who times out for the day. You reassure him that Jeonghan is going to keep you company through FaceTime while you wait for Seungcheol to come pick you up, and it seems that your boyfriend’s secretary is more than convinced with that line of reasoning.

“He took you to that fancy breakfast place?!” Jeonghan squawks from the other side of the screen. “He hasn’t even taken me there!”

“Well, whose fault is it for going on a sudden business trip?” You stick your tongue out at him as you do some last-minute paperwork on your laptop. “Better luck next time, Hannie.”

“Hmph. I’ll go there by myself when I get back to Seoul! Who needs companionship anyway?”

You roll your eyes, stifling a laugh of your own. “That’s funny coming from a guy who has two partners.”

“...Okay, good point.”

Jeonghan always proves to be excellent company even when he isn’t physically here with you. Your boyfriend does an excellent job in keeping you entertained—from stories about who’s having an affair with who in the conference he’s attending to all the delicious food he wants to eat with you and Seungcheol one day, he tells you all of it.

But about an hour into the call, Seungcheol still hasn’t texted you, and your eyelids are starting to droop. 

“I think you should take a nap first, sweetheart,” Jeonghan suggests, concern lacing his delicate features. “Go on, I’ll keep watch.”

“As if you can do anything if some lunatic tries to murder me in my sleep.”

“Hey, I’d still be an important eye witness if that was the case.” He chuckles. “Now go to sleep. I’ll tell Seungcheol to text me once he’s there so the guards can let him up.”

Normally, you would’ve argued but…

“Fine…”

…

Seungcheol has only gone inside yours and Jeonghan’s office building twice in his life. The first time was to surprise him on his birthday, and the second was after an argument so bad, they almost broke up.

On his third time, the other employees have long since left the building. It’s only the security guards and…well, you.

He didn’t mean to make you wait so long, really. But what was meant to be just one practice match turned into three as extra preparation for his game tomorrow evening. Seungcheol felt a familiar bout of déjà vu at the thought of having to make you wait longer than you’re supposed to. 

In short, he didn’t like it, and when his teammates requested for a fourth match despite it already being ten o’clock in the evening, Seungcheol was ready to bail. 

Even the guilt that roots itself into his chest once he sees you dozing off in front of your laptop is familiar. He doesn’t deserve your patience, really, but he’ll gladly accept it.

To his surprise, he notices that you’re in a FaceTime call with Jeonghan, who he just texted a few minutes ago so he could come fetch you from the office. His lover waves at him from the other side, casting him a smile that Seungcheol has grown to miss with each day he’s away.

“She waited for two hours, you know,” Jeonghan scolds.

“I know. I’ll make it up to her later,” Seungcheol laughs before leaning closer to wake you—

“Cheol?”

Perking up at the sound of Jeonghan calling his name, Seungcheol glances at your phone with a puzzled expression. “Yeah?”

He opens his mouth as if meaning to say something, only to close it again and shake his head.

“It’s—it’s nothing,” he laughs, almost like he’s embarrassed. “I love you. Both of you.”

Seungcheol feels his chest pang with warmth, eyes flickering from Jeonghan then to your peaceful form, hunched over the desk. 

“I love you, too,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“Both of you.”

…

Jeonghan [5:15 P.M.]: love, can you bring cheol his favorite energy drink before his game?

Jeonghan [5:15 P.M.]: it’s kind of his pre-game tradition, but they won’t let food deliveries past the gates. gotta give it to him in person.

Me [5:20 P.M.]: sure thing. cheol already asked me to do that tho, so i told joshua i’m timing out early. 

Jeonghan [5:21 P.M.]: ah, that’s great news <3 take care on the way!

Jeonghan [5:30 P.M.]: wait. cheol ASKED you to?

...

Like Jeonghan had requested, and like you promised to Seungcheol, you handed him his favorite energy drink—a niche brand that wasn’t available in any of the vending machines, picky little bastard—ten minutes before they had to do their warm-ups. He stared at you like he didn’t expect you to actually follow through with what you said, and nearly killed you with a bone-crushing hug.

“Thanks,” he whispered breathlessly into your ear before planting a wet kiss on your cheek. “I’ll clean up quickly after the game so we can go home and have dinner.” 

Immediately after, Seungcheol bolted at the sound of one of his teammates calling for him, leaving you standing there, red-faced.

It’s almost the same thing each time you meet him before all of his games. Seungcheol spends a few seconds convincing himself that you’re not a mirage before taking the drink you personally got for him. Then, like some sort of good luck ritual, he kisses your cheek and heads back to the field just in time for warm-ups. 

You honestly didn’t think you’d be so willing to run all these errands on his behalf. Hell, you didn’t think you’d find yourself seated amongst thousands of spectators as one of your boyfriends kills it on the field. 

You’ve been to Seungcheol’s games back then, so you thought you were already prepared for the audience’s loud cheers once you settled into your seat. But you completely overlooked the fact that the open field in your old high school is insurmountably different from the biggest indoor stadium in the country.

So when Seungcheol’s team rakes in victory after victory, you feel just the slightest bit of pride swelling in your chest. Who knew that the same guy who often ditched football practices to go on dates with you in the past would become such a rising star in only a few years?

On their last game for the week, Seungcheol gets hailed as the MVP of the season, and you tell yourself that he absolutely does not have to know that you nearly screamed your lungs out when his name was announced on the big screen. Definitely not.

Seungcheol ends up finding you before you can find him once the awards ceremony has been concluded—making a show of biting the piece of 24-carat gold hanging from his neck. You roll your eyes before taking out something you’ve expertly hidden in a wide tote bag.

“Congrats on beating their asses, I guess,” you say sheepishly before handing him a perfectly arranged bouquet of—

“Gladiolus?” Seungcheol smirks when he accepts your gift. “You sure did your research, huh?”

“Hey, the info is easily accessible on the internet,” you huff, yet still pose accordingly when Seungcheol fishes out his phone to snap a picture. “Not much effort was required to pull this off.”

“Sure it didn’t.”

When he finally stops teasing you about the present you got for him, Seungcheol proposes to have dinner somewhere fancy—an idea you might’ve flat-out rejected at first, but choose to consider. Just this once. 

But before you can give him the green light, a couple of his teammates come up to the both of you with congratulatory smiles. You recognize them as Kim and Jeon—two players who also caught your eye on the field. Seungcheol introduces them as Mingyu and Wonwoo respectively, and out of the blue, Mingyu invites the two of you to the team’s victory party happening at a nightclub just across the street.

You expect Seungcheol to immediately agree. After all, he’s the star of the season. His presence there is practically tantamount. But instead, he glances at you with a questioning look. 

“We don’t have to show up if you’re tired,” he says. “I know my games have been keeping you up late.”

Wonwoo nods in agreement. “True. Besides, we can have more exclusive celebrations once our coach has given us this season’s payroll. Tonight is more of a free-for-all than a victory party, actually.” 

“No, I’m good.” 

Mingyu cheers at your response, while Seungcheol’s eyes widen just a fraction. “You sure?”

You know he’s only being this way because Jeonghan probably told him about the Myeongdong Incident, A.K.A., an office party from a few years back, where you made an absolute fool out of yourself for downing one weird shot too many. Your boss-slash-boyfriend hasn’t let you live it down since.

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure him. “Besides, this is your night. What kind of fiend would that make me if I hog you all to myself?”

Wonwoo lets out a very loud wolf whistle that has the tips of Seungcheol’s ears turning pink with embarrassment, and it takes all your self-control to keep yourself from snapping a pic.

“Fine,” he sighs. “Don’t expect me to take care of you if you go overboard, though. Got that?”

…

Except he does take care of you when you inevitably go overboard.

Like in every instance where you find yourself wasted beyond belief (move over Soonyoung, someone has taken the crown), the details are a bit muddled in your brain. You just remember seeing a bunch of women in skimpy outfits crowding your boyfriend right after he gave his MVP-of-the-season speech, and it was all over for you. 

You’re not very sure, but you might’ve put on a bit of a…territorial display out there. You also might’ve done a body shot on Seungcheol before kissing him in front of everyone just to prove a point. 

Again, you’re not sure, so you’re innocent until proven guilty.

“Cheol, ‘sso hot,” you mumble as he props you upright on the king-sized mattress back home. “Turn on the…air conditioner, please.” 

You hear him laugh. What’s so funny?

“Baby, it’s twenty degrees outside,” he says. “That’s just the alcohol. Come on, drink this so you can sober up a little. You can’t take a shower if your head’s still spinning.”

Your eyes are still screwed shut, so you don’t know what exactly it is he’s offering. Still, you say, “Don’t wanna.”

Seungcheol sighs. “Please? Jeonghan said your hangovers get worse when you don’t freshen up before sleeping.”

Jeonghan… The mere mention of your lover has you writhing on the mattress, chasing after the remnants of his scent on the sheets.

“I miss Hannie…” you whine, unconsciously letting Seungcheol prop you back up as he places whatever drink he’s forcing you to ingest in your hands. “When’s he coming back?” 

“In a week or so, baby,” he reassures. “Now, drink. Please?”

You’ve never felt more thirsty at that first drop of water in your mouth, downing the entire glass like you did with those shots back at the party. Seungcheol chuckles again, and you open your eyes a bit to shoot him an unamused look.

“There we go,” he commends. “That’s my good girl. You want some more?”

Oh… You might be in the ninth circle of intoxication right now, but you heard those words come out of Seungcheol’s mouth loud and clear. And they are not doing your poor underwear any favors.

If you were sober, you think you would’ve had an internal meltdown about that…inappropriate reaction you had to Seungcheol’s completely harmless words. But you tell yourself not to overanalyze every single thing for once and just let your not-ex-boyfriend take care of you.

“Yes, please.”

About an hour later, you’re fresh from the shower and tucked in bed—body still weighted by both fatigue and the leftover intoxication. You don’t see it when he does, but Seungcheol’s stare lingers a second too long once he climbs on the other side of the mattress.

King size is huge, especially without Jeonghan sharing the same space with both of you. But Seungcheol hasn’t tried to close the distance that your lover’s absence has introduced. He doesn’t want to be the one to come onto you, especially with the way he left things between you in the past. 

But on nights like this, when he hears your soft snores on the other side, he wants nothing more than to reach out and hold you in his arms. Just like he used to.

Before he lets those introspective thoughts consume him, Seungcheol turns off the lamp on the bedside table—hopefully turning off his brain in the process.

In the right time, maybe.

…

You can’t sleep. 

The burn of inebriation has long been flushed out of your system, but your skin still feels like it’s on fire. When you turn to the side to face the man you’re currently sharing this too-massive bed with, that’s when you realize that your body is being engulfed by a different kind of heat.

Eyes parsing through the darkness, you figure that Seungcheol is still fast asleep as you move over to scoot closer to him—taking your pillow and comforter with you. 

You would’ve been more reserved with your actions on any other day, but now you wrap your arms around the broad circumference of his bicep—breathing in the fresh scent of his shirt like a well-known comfort. It helps you relax a little, but you know this isn’t nearly enough to address the throbbing between your thighs.

Fuck.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” 

Your heart lurches at the realization that you woke him up. Seungcheol moves to glance at you with sleepy yet concerned eyes—wondering what on earth possessed you to cling to him like this. You can’t even bring yourself to meet his gaze without crumbling from embarrassment.

“I…”

He hums. “What? I didn’t hear you.”

“I can’t sleep,” you mumble. 

Seungcheol nods. “Okay. Why?”

You press your forehead into his arm, letting out an internal scream.

Are you really going to tell him?

“...’m aching.”

“Aching?” he asks, brows raised. “Well you kinda danced your heart out earlier. Where does it hurt? Maybe I can help.”

You take what might be the deepest inhale you’ve taken in your entire life before untangling your arms around Seungcheol’s—using your free hand to guide him lower, lower, until his hot fingers are resting above the apex of your thighs.

“Here.”

He’s quiet—maddeningly so. 

You don’t think your pride can handle it if he gets out of bed and leaves you again. In fact, you might just flee the country altogether. Change your name, and start anew in some faraway land. But Seungcheol is quick to recover from the absolute stupor you just subjected him to. 

The next thing you know, he’s manhandled you in a way that has you trapped between his broad frame and the bed—gaze boring into you so intensely, you nearly moan.

“Look at me,” he commands sternly. “Are you serious? You’re not still drunk, are you? Do you really want to…?”

Despite yourself, you roll your eyes. “Cheol, if I was drunk, I would’ve already jumped you without a second thought.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

God, you forgot how insufferable he can be. 

Now that the drowsiness has long left your body, replaced by something more untamable, more volatile, you lace your fingers around Seungcheol’s neck—pressing your foreheads together.

“Choi Seungcheol,” you whisper. “I can’t sleep because I’m horny as hell. If you don’t do anything about it, you’re sleeping on the goddamn couch.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs.

Seungcheol smashes your lips together like he’s been deprived of your kiss for lifetimes and more—one hand going to the back of your head, and the other beneath your waist so he can press your hips impossibly closer. You thought those makeout sessions back in the high school locker rooms were the hottest ones you’d ever get to experience from him, but apparently, marinating in ten years’ worth of longing charges the air with enough sexual tension to make you dizzy. 

You breathe his name against his lips as he explores every inch of your mouth—mapping it out with his tongue as if relearning something he never thought he’d get to relive again. When you feel him grinding his hardening length against your thigh, you take his bottom lip between your teeth in heady anticipation. 

You want him so badly. Wanted him all this time, and you’re just realizing how much of an idiot you were for depriving each other for so long.

“Cheol,” you whimper, mouth still hot against his as you roll your hips. “Need— Need you.”

“I’m right here, baby,” he whispers. “I’m never leaving again.”

In your lust-drunk daze, you couldn’t completely comprehend the meaning behind those words, but your heart responds in kind—racing in your ribcage so quick, you thought you’d pass out.

However, Seungcheol is intent on keeping you wide awake and completely aware of every single thing he’s going to do to you. He’s quick to take off your shirt, and you’re an all-too willing accomplice. A rush of pride surges through you when Seungcheol groans at the sight of your bare tits. 

“You have no idea,” he starts, voice husky with arousal as he peppers your breasts with hungrry kisses, “how much I missed these. Knowing Han gets to play with them while I can’t drove me fucking insane.”

“They’re all yours now, Cheol,” you chuckle before your breath hitches all of a sudden once he bites down harshly on your skin. 

“All mine,” he growls.

His shirt is gone the next moment, and the reaction you have to seeing him completely shirtless isn’t so different to how he took the sight of your breasts for the first time in a long time. This man is fucking huge—all bulging pecs and rock hard abs. You would’ve laid him down on the bed just to take your time to worship his ridiculously fit body (thank God for their tireless training), except Seungcheol doesn’t look like he has any plans on relinquishing control tonight. 

Not after he’s waited for you all this time.

Even if you tell him you’re too goddamn horny for foreplay, Seungcheol isn’t having any of it. He splays himself between your thighs—a sight that’s all too new to you. Back then, you’d simply experimented on occasional fingering and a handjob, but oral was foreign territory. 

And just thinking of having the mouth that just won’t stop running on you is enough to drive you up a wall.

Seungcheol doesn’t need any words to make you feel good. Once he’s bruised the inside of your thighs with his rough, biting kisses, he tears through your underwear before tossing it to the side. Before you can even utter out a single word in complaint, though, he’s flattening his tongue along your slit—licking a long, broad stripe that has you preening on the mattress.

He spreads you open with his fingers, making sure there’s no inch of your pussy untouched by his greedy tongue. When Seungcheol moves to press a single finger at your entrance, the sound you let out is unholy. You nearly hide your face out of shame, but Seungcheol reprimands you the second you move away.

“Keep those eyes on me, baby,” he growls. “Watch how I fuck you on my fingers. Watch how I’ll make you fall apart with my mouth.”

You practically buck your hips along with the shallow thrusts he makes with that long, thick digit. You can’t even begin to imagine how good it’ll feel once he sticks his throbbing cock inside of you, but you tell yourself that patience is a virtue. Seungcheol has always had a mean streak, and you’d rather not get teased to death tonight.

When he slides in the next finger, you can already feel the stretch. Seungcheol distracts you from it with his tongue—flicking it against your clit in a way that has your toes curling with the preciseness of his movements. It makes you wonder how many women he’s done this to get this good, but the thought leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Still, you can’t complain. After all, you’re reaping all the benefits from whatever past experience he’s had over the last ten years. You’d be a fool not to take complete advantage of that.

“So fucking wet for me,” Seungcheol sighs before spitting on your cunt—lathering his spit with your dripping essence—and the sight makes you tug at his hair in your horny delirium. 

“You’re going to kill me,” you whisper hoarsely.

Seungcheol snickers condescendingly before pulling out his fingers from your sopping cunt. Then, he raises them to your lips. “Open.”

You part your lips to make way for his fingers a bit too easily, lathering the underside with your tongue as the tangy taste of your essence fills your senses. There’s a dangerous look in Seungcheol’s eyes as you lick his fingers, and something tells you that, despite the heavy fatigue from his past games, this one still has a lot more vigor to offer.

Seungcheol moves to discard his boxers, and you try not to look too desperate for his cock—pressed firmly against his toned stomach before he pumps it with his fist. 

“On your knees, sweetheart,” he sighs. “Raise that ass for me.”

“No.” 

He frowns, obviously not used to his authority being tested in bed. “And why is that?”

Like a bullet straight through his skull, you rest back on the plush comfort of the pillows, spreading your legs so tantalizingly, Seungcheol almost pounces at you without thinking. You’re posed so sexily on the same bed he’s dreamed of taking you on countless times—offering your sweet cunt for him to take.

“I want to see you, Cheol,” you tell him with a bossy undertone that makes him fall in love with you all over again as you beckon him closer.

“So are you just going to stare at me all night, or are you going to fuck my soul out of my body?”

You’re so fucking daring. And Seungcheol is so fucking whipped.

There’s something so new yet so familiar with the way Seungcheol handles your body. Each touch is imbued with all the time he wishes he could have spent with you; each moan, a timeless rendition of all the words he wanted to say to you. You can’t even let yourself go to the feeling of him ramming his thick girth into your pussy because you’re overwhelmed by the surge of emotions he quietly imbues into your body.

When Seungcheol notices you crying, he immediately halts each and every movement—panic eclipsing the hunger he’s been keeping down for weeks. But when he realizes the tears aren’t from pain, his eyes soften.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, tugging him back down into a messy kiss. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Fuck. He isn’t sure what to feel right now. Bliss because you’re clamping down on his cock so deliciously tight? Relief because he doesn’t seem like the only one who’s still tormented by the past? 

I love you, he wants to say. I never stopped, and I never will.

But he won’t say it. Not yet. He doesn’t want you to think he’s saying it in the spur of the moment, or because his emotions are especially high-strung now that he’s balls-deep inside you. 

He’ll tell you when Jeonghan is back, and the three of you can all start this strange, strange relationship from scratch. 

When you finally reach the high you’ve desperately been clawing after—as evidenced by the angry red marks on Seungcheol’s back—he commits the sight of your eyes rolling to the back of your head in the pinnacle of release into memory. It renders him completely fucking wrecked for you, spilling into your awaiting heat as he fucks himself into completion.

You’re both sweaty and sticky by the time Seungcheol collapses back on the mattress, but you don’t care. Though he’s frayed every single nerve-ending beneath your skin with that blistering orgasm, you let yourself bask in the encompassing warmth of his body. 

For the first time in years, you fall asleep in Seungcheol’s arms—like a quiet forgiveness you’ve decided to afford both him and yourself.

…

Jeonghan arrives back in Seoul a week ahead of schedule. 

After hearing about all the records that Seungcheol has broken for himself this season, he wanted nothing more than to hop on the first train back home and be with the two people he cherishes the most. 

So, like the natural schemer he is, he asked his beloved secretary if there was any way to cut this gruesome business trip short. Long story short, after learning (through completely legal means!) that his annoying business partner has a troublemaking son that’s been laundering money behind his back, Jeonghan is quick to pull some strings. 

Once the news reached said business partner, he was immediately apologizing to Jeonghan for having to postpone the deal because of a personal matter. 

Now, he’s back home—closing the front door to their house as quietly as he could. 

It’s no later than six in the morning, and while you’d usually be up and about as you got ready for work by this time, he remembers that it’s Saturday, and how you loved to sleep in. 

As Jeonghan places his luggage somewhere in the living room, however, he notices that the flower vase on the coffee table—strategically placed for aesthetic, yet is usually empty—has an assortment of colorful blooms spilling out. 

Gladiolus flowers. Seungcheol’s birth flower.

When he opens the door to the bedroom with curious eyes, his heart is put at ease at the sight before him. You and Seungcheol lie there without an inch of distance separating you—limbs tangled together with the sheets in a way Jeonghan has only dreamed of seeing.

He breathes out a soft laugh, smiling to himself.

“It’s about time, my two beloved idiots.”

part one - part two - part three | masterlist

[hyuuukais]

-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143

pairing -> lee minho x fem reader

synopsis -> after a bad breakup, y/n needs to find a new place to live. although she's grateful for her best friend, up-and-coming model hwang hyunjin, for letting her stay at his, she can't keep living with him and his model roommates. so when an opening for somewhere nearby with cheap rent opens up, she jumps on it, despite knowing next to nothing about the 3 other tenants, only that one owns 3 cats. the three quickly learn of her breakup, determined to help get her back on her feet. but what happens when one of them begins to develop feelings?

warnings -> general, y/n gets told she talks too much kind of, discussion abt cheating

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER THREE -> AM I IN? (partially written! wc:546)

"...and then, after telling him how much I love him, he comes out of our shared- yes, shared- bedroom with another woman! Can you believe that? I pour my heart and soul to this man, and he just steps all over it! Them? My heart and my soul, so, yeah, I guess them. Sorry, what was the question again?"

"...what do you do for work?" The guy on the right side of the couch says, arms crossed.

You blink. "Right! I'm a graphic designer for a website."

"What website?" Beomgyu leans back, arms behind his head.

"This Just In!" You say excitedly, passionate about your work. "I'm trying to move into the journalism area as well. I'd love to be able to interview some of the people we do, but my boss didn't seem very keen to the idea yet."

"How come?" The one in the middle asks.

"He says I talk too much." A sudden wave of emotion hits you. "My boyfriend says the same."

"Ex-boyfriend."

"What?"

"Your ex-boyfriend." It's the one on the right again, eyes piercing into you; you can't hold his gaze.

"Right." You clasp your hands in your lap. "Maybe I've overshared a bit to you guys. I don't even know your names-" You point at the two.

"Han," the middle one offers. "Well, Jisung, but most people call me Han."

"Minho." You still can't look at him.

"Okay. Um, so, unless you have any other questions...?"

"Yeah, actually," Minho speaks. "What's your current living situation?"

"Oh! I'm living with my best friend, Hyunjin, and his roommates. But they're all models and it can be a bit... dramatic." You laugh nervously.

"Models?" Han sits up straight, looking at his two roommates. "What are the others like?"

"There's Felix, a literal sunshine, and Yeonjun and Wooyoung. They're usually the ones causing drama." You laugh again, this time more naturally. "Wooyoung just came back from a business trip, so I'm gonna be staying in my other best friend's, NingNing, she's amazing and I love her, apartment until she comes back. She's also a model... I'm friends with a lot of models."

"Do you mind stepping out for a second?" Han says with a smile. Your stomach drops. "I just need to discuss something with my roomies here."

"Y-yeah, okay." Quickly, you pick up your bag and head to the door, only stumbling a little bit.

Of course, you press an ear to the door once outside. If they don't want you, at least you'll know before they tell you to your face. Then maybe you won't cry at the news. The thick wooden door makes it hard to hear, only picking out bits and pieces.

"Dude, her best friend is a model-"

"Han, I swear to God-"

"She does talk a lot-"

"Like you're one to talk-"

"Okay, but with the breakup? Won't she be, like, crying all the time-"

"Hey, Min just went through a breakup too, so maybe she can help him with it-"

"Shut up-"

"Back to her best friend being a fucking model-"

A loud sigh signals you should back up, taking your phone out and pretending to be busy. The door opens, Minho in front of the other two looking more tired than before you left.

"You're in."

notes -> what is with me making idols i love into shitty exs like what is with that genuinely

taglist -> @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @puppyminnnie @tfshouldidohere @kangaracha @chlodavids @whitney190 @thisisnotjacinta @borahae-reads @brooklynie @gini143 @kayleigh-28 @skz-streamer @babyphotos0325 @scallywag1299 @venusmoonxnight @naomisosoup @fertiliezedtoesw @s00buwu @realrintaro @anothershorthuman @skzstaykatsy @ilovejeongin007 @btswestan @taeriffic @ihrtlix @raehawthorne @euphoric-univers @hyperpixie @evermourning @satsuri3su @jazziwritesthings @minhwa @wyzminho @fic-for-readers

^^^ orange means i can't tag you

[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♡

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous [Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas] (Helluva Boss) pt. 9 - If I Had a Nickel

pt 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9 | 2nd bonus

Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn’t exactly considered classy, Stolas.

If Blitzø had a nickel for every ex of one his friends’ he’d fucked he’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice, right?

Word count: 6,117

Warnings: since it’s something concubi need to survive, having sex with humans for that need is not considered cheating between them in of itself. doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel shitty. you’ll get this when you get to it. this takes place during spring broken but I’ve already said do not take the shows timeline as entirely the same as my own lol. Spring broken will have happened after Exes and Ohhs but Exes and Ohhs will have happened before Ozzie’s in this fic. Kind of sexual/physical assault of Moxxie (same that happens in the episode, nothing graphic or anything), pretty tense chapter, Verosika is very much a bitch here but don’t worry abt it.

If you were to say so yourself, things have been pretty okay the past few weeks, which is a great freaking accomplishment, especially with Spring Break coming up.

Apart from being emotionally hard, considering the... well, the memories tied to it, Spring Break just makes you anxious, more than ever now that you actually had access to the human world during it with Stolas’ Grimoire.

… Which is the exact concern Ozzie expressed during the last sleepover you had at his place the previous week.

But you got this under control.

Of course, you'd still be careful, planning on staying in the office more often until you could find yourself less nervous about going up, and you made sure to tell him that.

Besides, there's plenty things more fun and more important for you to think of. You've been hanging out with Blitzø a lot these days, and you were actually having fun with the ‘trade’ with Stolas that you were now an official part of. You and Milllie managed to keep the weekly sleepover nights pretty consistent, Loona hasn't been in such a terrible mood lately and, therefore, Moxxie has been significantly calmer, too. You'd even managed to be sooo brave and keep yourself calm enough to make small talk with Fizz when Ozzie left the two of you alone for a few minutes in one your nights over at their place. Hey, maybe next week you can ask him a question, even!

Not much, admittedly, but progress nonetheless. Befriending your best friend's boyfriend is a little nerve-wrecking, especially when he’s so wary of the fact that you’re the only demon in hell with the power to confirm the rumors about them are real and have shit hit the fan for them.

You even- wait.

You recognize the song the very second it starts playing, taking you out of your thoughts and glancing at Blitzø as he turns the volume all the way up.

“You were the spicy little demon with the bleach blonde hair-“ you sing along with the car radio, holding an imaginary microphone to yourself before holding it to Blitzø.

“F-fiending for some- uhh- yeah, when I caught your stare!” Blitzø tries to sing along into it as he drives and you laugh at his attempt to sing the lyrics, already knowing he'd get most of them somewhat wrong, before leaning towards him so you can both sing into the imaginary mic together.

“Thought it might be love- but what?”

“But you went too far! Fucked all my friends and-“ Blitzø’s eyes widen so much they might as well fall off their sockets. “Holy shit-“ He steers the wheel so violently everyone thrashes around in the car, everyone in the backseat falling over each other and pushes the brakes forcefully, making the car come to a stop abruptly and he immediately proceeds to shove his head through the open window to yell at whoever it was that, as you could see now, had parked in his designated parking space. “Oh, you suck for life, do ya?”

He even goes through the trouble of fumbling to grab a megaphone he apparently kept in the glove compartment for... situations like this? Well, something like that. He continues yelling out insults until the sight of who comes out of the car makes him stop speaking completely.

It’s a hard task making Blitzø shut his mouth, you gotta give her that.

“Oh, shit. Verosika.” You state out loud, but it's more to yourself than anything. What's weird is that Blitzø says the exact same thing, the exact same time.

"Oh, shit. Verosika?” He asks, and you figure it's more to himself than anything as well. He turns to face you for a moment, blinking a few times before speaking. “You know her?”

“Uhhh…. “ So much for things being good lately. You want to stall as much as you can, you want to vanish from where you were, you want the floor to swallow you whole never to be seen again. The most you can do about all of that is trying to sink down on your seat so she doesn't see you, but it’s no use, really. She pops her bubblegum and grins at you. She already has.

“Blitzo.”

“I should have known you’d be here. I could smell fish from miles, which is odd, because I believe the nearest ocean is-” he pushes himself so far out the window he ends up falling face-first to the floor, but gets up as quick as he can just so he can finish his insult. “Three rings down!”

“And I should’ve known you’d be here when I heard the amber alerts.”

“Oh, yeah? I’m surprised they let your fat ass out of rehab.” She was in rehab? Again? “I can see you're still a drunken whore, clutching onto that beelzejuice bottle like its the last cock in hell!”

“They let me out because I’m still famous. And rehab is for sad, loser washups. So… your sister says hi. You wanna come out now, y/n? I'm sure you're familiar with the subject."

You sigh, deciding it’s better to confront her right now than to let her say too much, and so you get out of the car, walking towards where her and Blitzø stood. “Hi.”

“Hi? That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“For starters, what the fuck is going on, maybe?”

“What do you mean?”

“Getting with my fucking ex? Now that’s low even for you.”

“Your ex? Who's your ex?”

“Oh so you didn't know I dated him, that’s totally not why you’re here with him right now. Right.”

“You dated her?”

“Yeah, we dated for a while,” Blitzø shrugs. Oh, no.

“Yeah, until he ran off leaving me to pay for the hotel room, stole my car and-” Blitzø joins in, finishing word for word what she had to say, like he'd heard the speech a million times before. You don't doubt he has. “-ran three rings to wrath and max my credit cards on shitty horse-riding lessons!”

“Goddamit, whore, you will not let that go!”

“You… did that?”

“What, you gonna crucify me for it? How the fuck do you even know each other? Were you friends or something?"

“I- uh-”

“We dated too. Unfortunately.” Verosika spits out.

Blitzø turns to face you. “Wait what? You dated my ex?”

“Well I definitely dated her first. That tattoo was not there,” you point at the tattooed heart with Blitzø’s name crossed out inside of it, and Verosika instantly covers it with her coat.

“That’s true. Until… well, I’ll let the slut tell you what she did,” she tells Blitzø before smiling at you. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I'm doing a bit of freelance for one of the infinitely more successful companies in the building, and they wanted to have me come in this week to lead their team during Spring Break. Hey, maybe you wanna come too? Oh, wait, I forgot you’re on the big guy’s watchlist. Maybe he can give you a pemission slip?"

You avoid her gaze, feeling smaller than ever at the dig. She laughs at your reaction.

Blitzø interferes. “Well I don't know what that fucking means. But you said a week? No, no, you are not parking here for a fucking week.”

“Aw, you mad, Blitzø? Choke on a sandpaper cock.” She walks away flipping him off, and he chases after her.

You stay right where you are.

Blitzø follows suit behind her and threatens to call HR lest she parks somewhere else, which understandably sends all three of them into a laughing fit at the ridiculousness of the thought. Verosika snaps her fingers signaling to whoever her guard hound she’s parading around is to go, both exiting the parking lot.

As soon as they're gone, Loona barges out of the van. “You guys know Verosika Mayday?”

“Oh, yeah, her, yeah, we dated.”

“Yeah. Same.”

“Wait. You both dated Verosika Mayday?”

"Apparently."

“Ha! Now that’s karma.”

“Shut up, Moxxie,” Blitzø tells him.

“Was it before or after she became a popstar?” Millie asks.

“Sir. You dated a popstar?”

“Okay, why are you all acting like thats such a shock? Where's all that negative energy for y/n?”

“Hello? It’s Verosika Mayday.” Loona says, in a tone that's meant to shove it in his face that what they're trying to say is obvious.

“It’s… you.” Millie adds.

“I just- I mean, y/n is understandable. But you? Was she suffering some form of brain damage?”

“Okay, look, you are all making this into a way bigger deal than it needs to be. I don't pry into your stupid personal lives.”

A chorus of different ways to tell him he does, all the time, erupts from the three, you even joining in with a “dude, yeah you do.”

“What was sex with her like?” Millie asks you, and you feel like you’re going to short-circuit. This is not something you want to get into right now.

“Millie!” Moxxie exclaims before you can even say anything in return.

“What? She’s a popstar! You'd wanna know what sex with Michael Crawford was like.”

Moxxie opens his mouth to dispute her but stops himself. “Touché.”

“So, tell me later?” Millie asks you.

“Just drop it!" Blitzø exclaims. "Millie, find a temporary spot for that truck, okay?” He throws the keys to her. “Looney, Moxxie, Y/n, let’s go handle this shit.”

You take the elevator, and Loona begins to nervously pull on her hair. “Do you think they saw me? Fuck, I did my makeup shitty today.”

“Oh, you look perfect, Looney! Like alwaysss” Blitzø tells her, and she rolls her eyes.

“Shut up da- Blitz.” She shoves him away.

“You look great, Loons. Not coming from your dad.”

“Ugh, don’t say ‘dad’,” Loona complains, storming off, presumably to the office, but bumps into the hellhound Verosika had been with in the parking lot, who you assume is her bodyguard.

Loona stutters as she tries to apologize for bumping into him, clearly flustered, and hey, you get why.

Blitzø notices it too, though, and immediately goes into protective dad mode, throwing himself between the two. “Aww, big man, where’s yout bitch bag of an employer?”

The bodyguard doesn’t seem amused by Blitzø’s try at being intimidating, a bored-as-ever look on his face. “She’s in her office. There wasn’t room on the second floor, so they rented one here on this one,” he explained, pointing at the door….

The door right across from the I.M.P. office.

Great. Awesome. Fucking fantastic.

“Oh, come on!” Blitzø exclaims, frustrated as well.

The guy laughs and shrugs before walking out. “Sorry, man.”

“Oh, no, you don’t, bitch,” Blitzø mumbles under his breath, eyes trained on Verosika’s door.

Moxxie chimes in. “Sir! How about you let me go in and try to reason with her? You two clearly have a history with her, but I’ll be immune to her insults! I don’t really listen to what’s classified as ‘pop genre’ music, so her status to me is-”

“Moxxie, shut the fuck up and go,” Blitzø interrups, and Moxxie goes on his way, entering the office. Through the blurred glass wall, you could make out the silhouette of Verosika and two other concubi.

From outside, it’s still possible to hear what he says to her, and it is pitiful. “Hello Ms…. Verosika, was it? I work for IMP and it is actually rather important for us to retain the singular parking space we were assigned, because-”

One of the concubi interrupts him, and you swear you find the voice familiar. “Aw, look at the little one! He’s got a little bowtie!”

“Please don’t condescend me, ma’am. I’m-”

An incubus pops out of nowhere, offering to do something you can’t quite make out to him.

“A… kind offer, but… I’m married.”

Verosika leans down to Moxxie’s level. “Hey, why don’t you send a little message from me back to your limp-dick boss and his new girlfriend?”

Oh fuck, oh fuck-

They’re on him in a second, the true forms showing through the blurred glass as silhouettes..

“Shit, Moxxie!”

“Moxxie, don’t let her access any of your holes!” Blitzø yells at him.

“We should go inside!” You tell him, but it’s a mere second before Moxxie’s thrown out the door. You help him get up, and you can’t help but worry if he’s okay. “Mox?”

“I- I gotta go lie down, now,” he tells you, walking into the I.M.P. office.

For a second, Blitzø looks worried about him too. And then that’s replaced with anger. “Oh, this won’t stand!” He screams, kicking open the door to Verosika’s new office and promptly yelling at her. “Alright, cunt, that’s it! If you’re gonna be shitty to my employees, then I challenge you to a fucking…challenge! Fuck, I said that twice.”

“Is this imp boy starting a demon duel?” Fuck. It’s Izabeth. That’s why the voice was familiar. You remember being her friend too. Now she glanced at you as you stood by the door like you were nothing.

All of them did.

“I think he is!” Verosika replies, seemingly excited. “What’s the game, then, Blitzo?” Of course she insisted in calling him that, too.

“Every year you STD spreaders go up topside for easy picking while Spring Break is a prime time for crime of all kind.” You know he says it to hurt her, but his words hurt you too. Does he think that about you, too? Is that how he sees you? Is that how they all see you? There’s not much time to dwell on that just then. He keeps on. “So I bet you succu-bitches can’t fuck as many people as we can off by the end of the day.”

They all laugh at him, and, yeah, you would too if you were in their place, probably.

When Blitzø doesnt back down, she leans down to be at face-level with him. “Oh, you’re serious? Well, then we’re gonna talk rules.”

“Rules? You fuck and we kill why would we need rules?”

“Her.” She points at you with a gloved claw, and your eyes widen. “She can’t seduce anyone to lure them to be killed.”

“What? That’s bullshit!”

“Hey, I’m only making things fair! Seducing the humans is our thing. And you wouldn’t believe how good she is at that. There would be none left for us, would there?” she grins.

“Oh fuck you, Verosika,” you say, tired of the witty remarks about the past you so desperately wanted to bury.

“Bet you still would if I let you.” She leans down to face Blitzø once again. “Fair?”

“Okay. We don’t need that anyway.”

“Alright then. Game on, bitch.”

[. . .]

Blitzø manages a whole two seconds of silence as you walk to the office before he just has to say something. “So. Ya wanna tell me what that whole thing was about?”

“What do you mean?”

“The way she was acting super shady and talking shit about you? She said she’d let you explain what you did to her and that’s saying something cause when it comes to me? Oh she looooves talking about what I did to her.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Huh. I’ll get it out of you somehow. But. Apparently you were like some sort of human seducing machine is what I hear? Why do we take so little advantage of that?”

“Cause we don’t need to. I’m an assassin now. I kill. I don’t need to seduce anyone to do that.”

“Okay! Okay, geez. Whatever. But don’t think I forgot whatever that was about you being on some “big guy’s watchlist”.”

You wish he would.

The two of you are the last ones to enter the meeting room, and you take a seat next to Loona as Blitzø stands in front of the big white board with stupid shit drawn all over it.

“Alright, shut your assholes! Here’s how we’re gonna do this shit.” He pulls out a drawing of yourselves, seemingly out of nowhere, and points to it as if it explained everything, when in reality it was pretty much indecipherable. “First, we find a fuck ton of clients. We portal up. We have our fun murder time as per usual. We pile all the bodies into a big fucking canoe. We push said canoe into some water. We light it on fire to attract the sharks and eagles and maybe a goose too, fuck it. They come and eat the bodies, we win the bet, we rub it in that sloppy bitch’s drunken whore-ass face, do you have any questions?”

“A canoe?” You ask.

“Why do we have to light them on fire?” Millie follows.

“Uh, yeah, why was that nonsense?”

“That one wasn’t a question.”

“That wasn’t a plan.”

“I’m sorry, that was a flawless presentation of what we should do, Mox, it’s not my fault you got a smooth little brain upstairs.”

“A what, now?”

“I’m calling you slow, Moxxie. God, why don’t you learn to take criticism, you talentless baby fucked troll?”

Moxxie climbs up to stand on the table, fuming. “Why don’t you take an art class?”

“Why don’t you see how expensive they are?” Blitzø yells back, pulling on the collar of Moxxie’s dress shirt.

“Hey, is there a way I can come with you guys this time?” Loona questions, nonchalant, interrupting whatever it was that was happening between the two and making everyone turn to look at her.

“Absolutely not, I forbid it. Not gonna happen. Sorry, sweetie, Spring Break is no place for young, vulnerable goth girls. You know the kind of freaks up there who drool all over you!”

“Just let the girl go, Blitzø,” you tell him, and he gives you a dirty look.

“Yeah, Blitz! I can blend in with humans easy enough. Just let me tag along!”

“Wait. Say that again.”

“I can… blend in with humans?”

“Do you have a human disguise?” Millie asks her, and you stop to think of it too. Since when has that been going on? Everyone’s seen yours plenty enough, even though you didn’t use it every single time you went up. How did you somehow miss the fact that Loona had a disguise of her own?

“Yeah, don’t all of you? I’ve seen y/n’s.”

The three share looks between each other, similar looks of deer caught in headlights.

“Wait. Are you the only one who has one?” Loona asks you.

“Well, yeah.”

“The three dickheads have been screwing around on Earth this whole fucking time without human disguises? And you’ve been letting them?”

“Hey how’s that my fault? Not like I can conjure disguises for them.”

“Hey now, we have to focus here! New plan. Y/n’s not allowed to use her human disguise cause apparently she’s this huge human awe-ing machine or something. But they didn’t say we couldn’t use Looney’s. Looney, you can help lure the humans to us and we’ll take care of the rest. Real simple, yeah?”

“Wait what’s that about a human aweing machine?” Moxxie questions.

“Unimportant,” you reply.

“How about the new plan, then?” Blitzø asks.

“Flawless logic,” Millie says.

“I think you’re missing the biggest issue, sir. Isn’t it crucial to have a client who demands enough kills to win this bet? We aren’t just going up to massacre!”

Moxxie has a point. But, surprisingly, it seems Blitzø has thought of that already.

“I got that covered.”

Blitzø takes out a blank piece of paper, scribbling away on it with the markers you bought him for his birthday a few months prior. After finishing whatever it was he was doing with it, he takes you all outside, revealing the handmade flyer as he glued it to a lamppost just outside the building.

Spring break

Victim

50% off!!

It even had a drawing of his very happy doodle-self beside a decapitated person and, naturally, various horse drawings scattered around the page that had nothing to do with anything. As charming as it was, there was really no way this single tiny flyer could attract anyone, let alone enough clients to have you win the bet with Verosika.

“Now, we wait.”

Moxxie voices thoughts similar to yours. “Sir, there is no way we are going to get enough clients by the end of the day with one poorly spelled, bad-grammar flyer!”

It takes less than a single minute for the street to be packed with people waiting in line in front of it.

Blitzø opens a cocky grin, laughing at Moxxie and elbowing his side before walking up to the first few people in line. “Now, who’s first?”

Okay, maybe he had this under control, after all. Huh.

[. . .]

Satan, Spring Break was… the exact same.

It was the absolute same as it ever had been, down to the thick, thick scent of hormones, sweat and bodily fluids mixed with sunscreen and a hint of weed, up to the obnoxiously loud music and even more obnoxiously loud people.

As annoying as it was to think of it now,, Spring Break did serve you a great deal in the past. Easiest, quickest way to human sex you’d ever encountered. The weeks of Spring Break could be enough to saciate a concubus’ need to go up for a long time if you were smart about it.

They were supposed to be enough, at least.

It’s been quite a few years since you’ve been up on Earth during this time of the year. Ozzie would not be pleased to hear about it, and he’d probably still go on and on about how irresponsible and careless you were being, but if you could get through this, and you truly felt you could, then maybe you could make him proud, too. Happy for you, even.

Well. Nothing like a little murder to get your mind off of things these past couple years. What’s some more?

“Now, remember, we can’t be seen, alright? And loose shots will likely cause a panic, so Loona can help with leading targets to a better spot to off ‘em. You got thhe, Looney?”

Loona takes a sniff at the piece of paper before nodding, standing up to change into her human disguise. Blitzø beams at her appearance.

“Oh, Looney, look at you, you look downright awful! I am so proud. Now fetch!” He points to the packed beach, and she does as said.

Luring the humans was going rather easily with Loona’s help. Blitzø wasn’t wrong, they were all over her. All it took was a look and a ‘come here’ motion, and she could take them wherever she needed: dark alleys where Blitzø could blow their heads off with a gun as she leaned back and watched, by the bridge where Millie could push them to their death and Moxxie could take care of the body, by some hidden corner where you could behead them… yeah, things were going pretty okay, and you had nine kills in no time.

Blitzø was just bragging about it to no one in particular when her voice came on.

“Alright, Spring Breakers! Y’all ready to get fucked up and make som ebitching bad choices?” Verosika announces from up on the stage, where she stood in her human disguise while huge pink-colored screens read ‘fuck you blitzo’ on them in block letters all around her.

“Fuck, she’s gonna sing. We’re not gona stand a chance,” you say, more to yourself than anyone else.

And that’s exactly what she does. “This is your final boarding call. All aboard.”

Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay, babe

Take it straight to bonetown

V-time, free time, baby, relax

Self-care, no hair, brazilian wax

Hornt-up, succu-bus to the beach

Catch some rays while catching some D

It takes less than a whole minute for all the concubi she’d come up to earth with to find themselves busy with one, two or more humans each. Which makes up more than the total kills up until now.

“Goddamnit, that bitch started her goadish mating call! Now she’s gonna win all these sex maniacs, we gotta pick things up, guys.”

You nod in agreement, motioning to a guy throwing up beside you. “How about him?”

“Is he on the list, Looney?” Blitzø asks, but she’s… distracted. Of course, it’s pretty clear what’s going on.

“Yeah. Yeah I think so,” she replies, and it doesn’t reassure you at all, not when her whole undivided attention is trained on the Vortex guy who you have to admit looks pretty hot in his human disguise. And hey, he looked human but he wasn’t human, so you wonder if it would- no. Fuck, no. You’re not here for anything other than killing the targets in the list.

Loona’s reply seems enough for Blitzø, who grabs an axe from who-the-fuck-knows-where and quite literally slices the man in half after getting asked if he’s a leprechaun. “Alright, Looney, c’mon, who’s next? Looney? Loon- Looney? Where’s my baby?”

Blitzø immediately panics as he can’t find her where she just was a second ago, and you grab him by the shoulders to turn him in her direction as she walks up to talk to Vortex, making to take care of disposing of the leprechaun guy’s corpse with Millie’s help as Blitzø just stares for a moment before following her.

Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay, babe

Take it straight to bonetown

Verosika takes a swig out of a flask before yelling out “now, who wants a piece of this?” and throwing it to the audience. The liquid ends up spilled into many people’s drinks as it flies through the air before landing on the ocean water, and it takes about three seconds for your suspicions about what was in the flask to be proven right as you notice the way people are acting now- that sure as shit wasn’t just alcohol..

You and Millie find Moxxie after you’re done, and he’s watching Blitzø pathetically try to cockblock Loona. He sighs. “Aaaan, we’ve lost him. It’s looking like it’s up to us to handle this list. You wanna make sure he doesn’t blow our cover?” He asks you, and you sigh in annoyance.

“Not like I get to want anything.” You stand up regardless, making your way to where the three stood while Millie and Moxxie began their speed-run (speed-kill?) of the target list.

“What, I can’t have a break?” Is the first thing you hear from the conversation, coming from Loona.

You immediately interrupt, scolding Blitzø. “Blitz you need to get the fuck out of here you’re gonna get us into shit!”

“That’s exactly what I just said!” Loona tells you.

“That is exactly what she just said, actually,” Vortex comments and you ignore it.

“A break? We have a parking spot on the line!” Blitzø yells back, and you know he’s actually being protective of her but pretending it’s about something else.

Vortex decides to tell him off too. “Hey, dude, why dont you chill out?”

“Why don’t you stay out of it? ‘Kay? This is our business.” He holds up another one of his doodles with his tail for a second. “Literally.”

Loona growls in frustration at him. “Fuck, Blitz! Why can’t you stay out of my face for, like, five minutes?”

“Because I adopted you! And that should mean something!” He turns his back to her, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly.

“Oh, what does it matter? You’re not my real dad. I was almost eighteen!”

“It still counts!”

“Well, it shouldn’t!”

“Loon-” you try to stop her. You know her well enough to know she’ll feel bad for saying whatever she’s saying right now, but it’s no use.

“No! I didn’t need him then and I don’t need him now. You hear that, Blitz? I. Don’t. Need. You!” She’s the one to turn her back to him this time, and he looks back at her with tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“Okay, look, I know that hurt, but you can’t be out here, Blitz.”

“But- but Looney-”

“She just wants to talk to a cute guy without getting embarrassed. Let her be normal. She doesn’t mean it.”

“Oh how are you so fucking sure, huh? You keep secrets.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You ask him as you shove him away from the large group of people.

“Yeah I said it. You’re a- you’re a secret keeper! Who are you to know if people mean what they say?”

“Blitz, if this is about what Verosika said-”

“Oh but it is! It is about what Verosika said! Or what she didn’t say actually. Do we even know you?”

“My life before you is none of your fucking business- fuck.” you lose track of what you were going to yell at him when you see Moxxie get thrown in the air, getting exposed to a few people around where he lands on the sand. Blitzø’s eyes follow yours.

“Ah! Oh, my god, it’s a fucking possum!” A woman exclaims, pointing at Moxxie, to which he curses under his breath before some guy grabs him from the ground and shoves him into a beer cooler, immediately throwing it around in the air with Moxxie inside.

“Come on, we gotta go help Mox out,” you tell Blitzø.

“Ya hear that, Looney? I’m gonna go kill something. You enjoy your break!” He childishly yells to her.

You find Moxxie at the same time as Millie does. Pulls the cooler’s lid open and he falls out of it, clearly drunk off his mind from the beer. She stands over him and he calls out her name excitedly from where he lies on the sand. “Millie! Hi. Hey. Hey, where did you get four heads? I wanna kiss ‘em!” He makes grabby hands and a kissy face at her, to which she just smiles in return at the drunken state he’s in. It’s sweet, actually.

“Come on, Mox,” she mumbles before helping him stand up. He’s so wasted he needs to lean on her to keep himself standing.

“You guys okay?” Blitzø asks her.

“Yeah, we-” Millie starts, but is interrupted by… well…

“Ooh! Fish!” Moxxie exclaims, giggling, as he points to the huge, monstrous creature that rose out of the ocean, killing everything in it’s way out of the water and causing panic to overcome everyone in the beach, resulting in a screaming, bloody mess all over.

Personally, that’s not the word you’s use for it, but sure. A fish.

The fish captures Moxxie with its gross, gigantic tongue, pulling him towards itself before attempting to swallow the imp. Fuck.

Millie shares a look with you before promptly killing a man, stealing the glass bottle he held and improvising a molotov cocktail, throwing it at the creature and stunning it enough to fall back in the shallow part of the water. “Kill the rest of ‘em! Go!” She yells out to you and Blitzø, which is enough for you to trust her to solve the situation on her own.

You and Blitzø resume to killing whoever more you could identify as targets, a harder task now that they were panicking and running around in a frenzy, but you manage to get about six before Millie’s done, cutting the creature’s tongue off as it held Moxxie and sending him flying over towards Blitzø, where Blitzø, who manages to catch him in his arms, making one of the targets shocked enough for you to put a bullet though their head.

Millie finally begins to walk up to where you are after killing the monster, chest heaving with heavy breaths and spitting a little blood on the sand, but otherwise okay.

“Is Mox alright?” Is the very first thing she asks.

“Oh, yeah, he’s fine! Way to show off, Mills!” Blitzø yells, and she smiles. You give her a fist bump as she approaches you before she grabs a giggling Moxxie off of Blitzø’s arms, and she can’t help but laugh herself.

“This is funny. I’m soooooo drinky.”

She squeezes him tight and you smile at the interaction.

You only get so much smiling time when Verosika’s around.

“Blitzø.” She calls, and you all turn to see her standing with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Oh, perfect! That must be the whores!” He quips.

“I only see two whores around here and they’re right in front of me.”

“Hey you watch your filthy fucking mouth.”

“That was handled rather… obviously, don’t you think?”

Millie picks up Verosika’s flask form the sand, holding it up before throwing it to her. “I don’t think this belongs to any of us. Would be a shame if anyone found out you guys were behind a giant monster fish in the human world.”

“Yeah y/n here could tell the big Oz himself. He wouldn’t be very thrilled, don’t ya think?” Blitzø is quick to threaten.

“Ha! She should be more worried about him finding out she’s up here right now.”

“Go fuck yourself. He’s not the boss of me. He’s the boss of you, though, isn’t he?”

Moxxie laughs obnoxiously. “Oh, Satan! You got yourself fucked!”

“Yeah, well, you three nasty-ass gremlins will be in shit for not being in disguises." She turns to face you, a bitter, hostile grin taking over her features. "And you! Your little friend already took your crystal privileges away. You wanna be a bigger disappointment?"

“Don't act like you fucking know him."

Moxxie falls over face-first onto the sand between you. “A human called me a possum. I am not a possum!” He slurs out.

“Hold on, crystal privileges?" Blitzø questions you.

It's Verosika who answers, though. “She not tell you about it?" She lets out a laugh. "Doesn’t shock me.”

Fuck. “Verosika-”

“You little fucks never wondered why she doesn't have one?”

“What do you mean? She gets one from Ozzie when she needs it like all of you freaks-" Blitzø immediately defends.

“Oh, Blitzo, you really are fucking stupid, aren't you?" She interrupts him. "She used to have one."

No. “Ver, come on-”

“Don't! Call me that. No. You're gonna hear me say what you did." She turns back to Blitzø, the same rage in her eyes as when she recalled all the ways he'd wronged her in the past, earlier that day. "Your little girlfriend here was forbidden from coming up to Earth without Ozzie’s permission for years.”

“What?” Millie asks, and it seems accidental that she says it out loud.

“Yeah. Sorry-ass had to be babysat every time she had to come up. On a watchlist like a freakin' criminal, cause, well- she kind of is." She eyes you up and down before she spits out "I'm surprised you can even be here right now. Congratulations.”

“Well duh? Of course she's a criminal. That's kind of what we do.”

“Oh, Blitzo, the killing thing you guys do is adorable. But no one bats an eye at a little murder, it's Hell. No, she broke demon law." And, then, the final threat of a carefully blocked out, written-over past, coming to haunt you in the form of her. "You wanna tell them your record time or should I?”

“You have no fucking right-”

“I have every right! I have every right. It was five months, two weeks and two days. You know how pathetic that is?"

“That supposed to mean something, bitch?” Millie growls, protective.

“Other than her being a whore, no,” Verosika shrugs.

“What does that even mean?” Moxxie asks her.

“She stayed up here for five months, two weeks and two days straight once when we were dating. I was worried sick, we fucking lived together too. And then I find out she’s been up here fucking whatever human that came into her line of sight instead of coming back home.”

“I’m- it’s not-”

“‘It’s not what you think, Ver, I swear!’” She mocks. “Boo-fucking-hoo! Now she’s on a watchlist cause Asmodeus for some fucking reason liked her enough to just be worried instead of actually punishing her.”

“I wasn’t in my right mind, you have no fucking-” fuck, you’re voice is trembling now.

“Save it, bitch.”

Blitzø notices your discomfort, deciding it’s better to go home and solve whatever this mess was there. He walks up to Verosika. “Look. We keep this pathetic little b-movie scene on the down low and you let us use the parking space. She doesn’t tell her lusty bff about what you did and everyone lives happily ever after. Deal?”

“Fine,” Verosika says through gritted teeth. “But I hate you.”

“Don’t care. We fucking won!”

[. . .]

“So… you don’t have to talk about it, but… please talk about it. What was that?” Millie asks you, careful.

You sigh. Maybe this time there’s no running from it.

A/N: genuinely don’t even know of this is good vut alas! we’re so back! sorry for the long wait lol love y’all

[pleasantspark]

The Reason why I don't like Angel Dust

I went on the record to say I didn't like him because of his "AWFUL" portrayal. But there's lots of reasonings.

The tryhard fanbase.

The fanbase tries to make it about that fact that Angel Dust is a victim through and through when most of the time he's victimizing others, and usually the sexual harizzment is played for laughs and when it happens we're supposed to be "OH POOR ANTHONY HE GETS SA'd BY HIS BOSS!" like how can you be tonedeaf?

2. Viv and Raph

The unprofessionalism when handling the Story Arc that we're supposed to BE on the side of Angel Dust and "empowering him" failed, reason being that the story arc is being handled by people who fetish the abuse of a victim rather than being out of the way and approaching it with a more "detatched way" the entirety of EP4 could've been a commentary but instead it became a joke of an episode with two musicals that are nothing more than bringing down and making victims uncomfortable.

3. Loser, Baby and Poison did nothing to the story.

Loser, Baby is a useless addition to the already shitty soundtrack (There's like 2 soundtracks I liked out of them all.) and only provided us with the fact that "it's okay to be a victim and sell your body, it's okay to feel like a slut" it only serves to breed people to depreciate someone's self esteem, it's seen as "empowering" and "great" for Husk to belittle someone whose already been kicked down. Everyone in this episode was unlikeable with the exception of Sir Pentious, and ontop of it, everyone was OOC.

They were OOC to force a conflict and BS resolution because they needed a cute HuskerDust moment.

And don't get me started on Poison, the very song that tries to be Addict. But failed tremendously, Poison's animation was animated by a weirdo creep who probably had his hand somewhere else, and I wouldn't even put it past it.

Blake Roman has good vocals, but he's trying to be Michael, instead of his own person. There's alot of things I could say, but my dissection of this song is up if you want to hear it.

4. My EX liked the character and he's a piece of shit.

My ex, known as D, was an abusive cheating narcissist, who spent most of out relationship flirting with my then best friend (whose my boyfriend now) C. He spent most of the time doing it in front of me. It's not the first time he's done it, he's done it with other people, and alledgely by C, he made some rapey comments about him. My boyfriend (I will not say anything in respect) had "bad history" I had "bad history (involving family members.)" and for someone to say all that to someone who is a victim is gross.

When I left him after awhile he went on Twitter on a burner to harass me and my associates while spreading false allegations and using my mental breakdown as a way to say I diddle kids, along with screenshots when I was still a minor to prove to everyone I was a child diddler.

What does this have to do with AD?

Because he CONSTANTLY referred to Angel Dust as a "Femboy Spider" and KNOWING I was sexually abused, it made me INCREASINGLY uncomfortable. He and the fandom only see Angel Dust as gooning material, which is why he's written to be overly sexualized, he isn't a character that's deep and enriching, he's someone for people to sexualize and demean. He's not even human.

(He also had an obsession with UnknownSpy's stupid Sploot character which is a trigger of mine too.)

5. The roleplay side of them (esp Underage Kids) weird me out.

They have this weird sense of "judgement" about them that comes along with being an Angel Dust stan, they often try to make it to where they are uncomfortable around you while also portraying the easiest character.

and finally.

6. Angel Dust is easy to write, and not complicated.

Every single shit is a cop out, they write Angel Dust because its easy to make jokes about his body parts, they write Angel Dust because it's easy to rewrite canon into making him a victim.

Every FUCKING time.

I am SAYING Angel Dust can beat Val, it's easy, everyone down there has some sort of Asspull where they can somehow magically achieve Super Saiyan Bullshit.

Angel Dust by that logic should ALSO fucking take down the Vees, but no. We need more "liberating moments" for him to feel "empowered" and putting the sex back in Sex Worker.

This is why I hate him as a victim myself, and as a writing standpoint. People aspire to be like him, VICTIMS look up to him, NO ONE SHOULD PERIOD.

[ink-and-blood-goddess]

🪳🩸Dating Robert Montague Renfield Headcanons I🪳🩸

A/N- I watched Renfield for the second time a few days ago after watching it for the first time back in June and decided to write headcanons for our favorite, beloved character.

So, this is my first time writing character dating headcanons and had this saved up in my drafts for a few months. I’m going to be doing several of these as separate posts so that I don’t go overboard when I write the headcanons out

Also, I’m adding Renfield to my fourth list of character fanfic requests, so be on the lookout for that :) 

So please enjoy these headcanons…

Warnings: Some language, minor angst, mentions of past abuse, minor violence, and a fluffy relationship

Citrus Scale: 🍎

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The two of you met at Assholes Anonymous at the local church one night. Just two complete strangers listening to other people’s problems and how they got here.

You were the same way too. Looking for a place to spill all your fillings out after having a huge falling out with your NOW ex shitty boyfriend. It felt like the floodgates opened up once you began to talk about your fucked up relationship.

Sobbing over everything he’s done to you for the past few years you were together. Everybody sat there including him, listening what you’ve been through with a fucking low life like your ex. 

After the meeting, he came up to you at the refreshments table to see how you were doing. Your eyes were very red and puffy from all the crying, he felt very bad for you. He took out his handkerchief and wiped away stray tears that were left on your cheeks.

He was so kind to you, the two of you started to talk with one another.

“I’m Robert Montague Renfield,” he held out his hand. You extended yours and shook his hand gently. “Nice to meet you Robert Montague Renfield, I’m (Y/N) (L/N).” You said with a smile.

The two of you hit it off pretty well. You saw one another again at the next meeting and it was his turn to talk. He talked about his narcissistic boss that always gave him problems at his job and how it was hard for him to work with that type of person.

You felt more bad for him than yourself. Having his boss hound him everyday was harsh enough. That’s when something incredible happened.

After the meeting was over, he came up to you all nervous looking, fiddling with his hands, “(Y/N). Would you like to go get some dinner with me? I know a great place in the square.”

You nodded your head, “yes. I would love to grab a bite to eat, Robert.” He smiled back and both of you locked arms as you walked out the door.

Once the two of you got to the restaurant and seated at your table, you started talking about your lives.

Robert talked about his stressful job and how his boss is making his whole life a living hell. You talked about your very shitty ex boyfriend and basically walked all over you for the past few years.

“Wow. It sounds like we were destined for each other Miss (Y/N),” he said with a smile. “Yeah. I guess we were,” you laughed a bit.

After dinner, Robert offered to walk back with you to your place and you said yes.

You walked hand in hand, as you finally arrived at your apartment door on the third floor.

Before you went to unlock the door, Robert cupped your face with his hands, leaned over, and pressed his lips against yours. They felt soft and sweet on your warm skin.

Once he was done and lifted his head back up, you felt your face blush from the sudden move. Robert’s face turned to a bright pink shade as he laughed a bit.

“I had a great time tonight Robert. Thank you again,” you giggled. “ I did too. Good night (Y/N).” He leaned over again and kissed the top of your head. “Yes. Good night to you too Robert.” Then the two of you waved each other goodbye as Robert walked away and you went into your apartment.

From that night on, a relationship blossomed between the two of you.

Robert took you on all kinds of dates all over the city. Brunches, lunches, dinners, cafes, picnics, movies, a night under the stars, etc.

He really understood you and your feelings. Robert made you feel important more than ever.

Everything was going well, until your ex boyfriend came back. He wanted to have a fresh start and wanted to start over with you. But you saw through him quickly.

When you told him to leave, he grabbed you and held you by your throat against the wall.

“Listen to me you little bitch. You don’t belong to anybody else, but me. You belong to me and me only.” You let out a soft whimper, as tears fell down your face.

Before he could do anything else to you, the door to your apartment burst open and you saw Robert charging straight in towards your ex. He tackled him full force into the kitchen, with his hand letting go of you and dropping you to the floor.

You could hear the crunching of bones and tearing of flesh, as you watched Robert beat him into a bloody pulp and then stopped.

After a few seconds of silence, Robert turned and looked over his shoulder at you. His hands and face were covered with blood splatter. When you looked into his eyes, they weren’t blue. Instead, they were a golden yellow.

You wanted to get up and run out the door, but your legs felt frozen in place. Your soft whimpers turned into cries for help.

Robert quickly dashed towards you and embraced you in a tight hug. “Oh dear God (Y/N). I’m so so sorry you had to watch that.” He said, as he buried his face into your hair and ran his fingers through the strands. You continued to cry as you buried yourself into his soft sweater. Then as your cries soften, Robert cupped your face with both hands as he wiped away the tears with his thumbs.

“But never in my whole life, I’ll ever harm you in any way. I’ll protect you and make sure you’ll be safe. I swear it.” He said, as his eyes changed back to that beautiful blue color. He kissed the top of your head and then kissed your lips in a soft embrace.   

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (4)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, shitty boyfriend, the reader doesn’t take shit from no one, sexy mobsters, slow burn (kinda), implied character's death

A/N: This is a shorter, interlude chapter. I wanted to go straight for the smut but decided against it because…I’m a tease :)

Indecent Proposal (3)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“What’s this?” Steve holds up your scrapbook. “That’s pretty. It looks like you put a lot of effort into this book.”

“It’s a scrapbook,” you sigh, and grab the book. “Forget it. Whatever I dreamed of back then will never come true. Maybe I should burn it.”

“What do you mean, doll?” Bucky worriedly places his hand on your shoulder. “What did you dream of? And why do you think this will never come true?”

You sigh again. “Mr. Barnes, with all due respect, look at the mess my life is right now. My boyfriend sold me to you. And whatever you want from me is far from love. All you want is my womb.”

Steve frowns deeply. They didn’t think so far. All they had in mind was to make you theirs and fill you up. “Doll…we…” Steve shakes his head. “Buck?”

You wave them off. “No biggie. Life fucks you over most of the time. It could be worse, right? Scott could’ve cheated on me with his ex and sold me to his bosses.” You chuckle darkly. “Oh-wait. He just did that.”

“Y/N, we are not so bad,” Bucky grins at you. “We promise to never cheat on you. You are the missing piece Stevie, and I were looking for all our lives.”

You sneer. “Let’s try to be painfully honest. You want to stuff me with dick and knock me up. There is no way out for me. How could I escape you and your husband?”

You walk toward your bedroom, ignoring their boring looks. If they force you to accept your fate, you won’t roll over and just take it.

“You stole her scrapbook?” Bucky grins as his husband thumbs through your scrapbook. “You are a dangerous man, Mr. Rogers.”

“She wanted me to throw it away,” Steve huffs. “I took it with me to find out more about Y/N than her blood type and what she does for a living. If we want this to work out, we should…”

“Buy her flowers,” Bucky suggests. “And invite her to live with us.”

“Slow down, Buck. We should ask her on a date first. But flowers are not the worst gift for a first date.”

“How about we murder her enemies too,” the brunette grins darkly. “I know she doesn’t want us to kill Scottie boy, but I’d love to do more to him than break a few bones.”

“You know…” Steve dips his head and smirks darkly. “We could just let him disappear because he fucked with us. He lied and broke our deal by not telling Y/N about the deal.”

“I love how you think,” Bucky cups Steve’s face, looking him deep in the eyes, “and I love you, baby. You know that, right? Y/N is going to be an addition, but she’ll never take your place.”

“Buck, if I’d believe for one second you want to replace me you would end up bending over the table, your ass spanked raw,” Steve chuckles at his husband’s expression. “Oh, you’d love that, huh?”

“We will see, Stevie…we will see…”

“Far well, Scottie boy.” Bucky locks his gun and tugs it away. “This was much too fast and painless for that bastard. I should’ve broken a few bones or cut him open.”

“A shot straight through the heart. Good job.” Steve leans over Scott’s lifeless body. “Y/N can never know we killed him after she asked us to not do it.”

“We did it for us, not her. Y/N’s hands are clean. She had nothing to do with this, Steve. But I agree. She should never get to know about what happened tonight.”

“She wanted a dress like that for her wedding? Nice. Very nice.” Steve is obsessed with your scrapbook. He read every line and looked at every picture. Steve even ran his fingers over the fabric samples.

“Stevie, what are you doing with the scrapbook? Do you want to find the perfect wedding dress for her or more?”

“I want to get to know her better. Y/N put a lot of effort into creating this book. We should take our time and find out what she wants and likes.”

“Hmm…that’s not the worst idea, Steve. Give me that.” Bucky snatches the book out of Steve’s hands. “Let’s see what we can do for our doll…”

[jellybeanium124]

pathetic vent post lol

so the thursday before last, one of my coworkers told me she's quitting bc she got a job in the field she wants to have a career in. I was happy for her and told her so, but I also felt kind of sad, because she's a woman close in age to me and I've been thinking we could be friends if I wasn't technically her boss for a little while now. so finally near the end of our shifts (we were closing) I buck up and ask if her she'd want to exchange contact info and stay in touch and hang out after she left.

and y'all she looked so happy and excited to be asked that. absolutely 0 hints that her delighted response wasn't genuine. so she puts her number in my phone, and even takes a silly picture for the contact pic, and I send a test text and she responds to confirm it's her correct number.

on monday I text her about hanging out later in the week, with ideas. on tuesday I text her again, with new ideas if she didn't like my first ones. I didn't mean to double text two days in a row.

nothing.

I wait till yesterday and send her one last text, explaining that I really do wanna be friends, I am more chill outside of work and she's only seen Work Nina if that's what she's worried about, but that I don't wanna bother her.

it's been over 24 hours now, and nothing. part of me wonders if she changed her mind and blocked my number.

it's just really disheartening because I've had another person string me along and then not respond/continually cancel on me pretty recently. after my college friend group broke up thanks to the serial sexual predator (which is a whole nother story, dw he didn't do anything to me, in fact he refused to talk to me the first time we met when I introduced myself and tried to make polite small talk, and I realized several months later that he didn't engage with me at all because he didn't wanna fuck me 🙃) things have been kind of dire in the irl friends department and it's sad and pathetic and I thought finally here was a girl I really connected with, and she liked gossiping with me at work, and she seemed really really excited at the possibility of being real friends with me, and then nope... not a single response to any of my texts. zip nada zilch.

it's just hard... I was basically socially rejected by everyone in my film program at my uni, then I finally started to make friends at the jewish club and a serial predator with an apartment full of guns who sells stolen lego sets on ebay and does cocaine ruins that, and then I'm at work and now that I'm a manager I'm the boss of most people there and I wouldn't be close friends with most of them anyways and the one girl who I think I could be really close friends with fucking ghosts me after I was brave enough to ask if she'd wanna be friends. it's been like five straight years of rejection for me. I always had friends in k-12, I wasn't a "popular kid" but I was well liked among the venn diagram of gays, nerds, theater kids, and band kids and I had a lot of friends in high school. I don't fucking know what happened. and now I'm on meds that are finally giving me energy and happy chemicals so I wanna go out, I wanna do stuff, I wanna walk around, and I don't wanna be an apartment slug anymore but I don't have anyone to do anything with and there's only so much fun you can have by yourself. and I'm still too shy to go to a bar alone because I know I'll stand in the corner paralyzed by social anxiety. I'm trying bumble bff rn but I'm so shit at responding to people and I kinda hate myself for it and I'm trying to do better but I keep not responding to people for too long and yeah maybe my ex-coworker is stuck in that cycle too idk.

oh yeah and the whole past year of antisemitism makes everything worse because I'm deeply realistically afraid that any goyim I meet are going to be hateful hamasniks <3 so that's a fun lil bonus.

jesus man... idfk. it's just shitty. it's just fucking shitty.

[explosionkatsu]

Getting back together

Bakugou x Reader

Okay, don't judge me. I’ve been reading a lot. Like a lot of Bakugou x readers here and maybe I wanna try. Haha! This is my first one-shot in here. Enjoy! 😘

“After defeating the villain. Dynamight was rushed to the hospital due to the severe damage the villain has caused him-”

-

It was raining and there you are sitting comfortably on your sofa.

Work was hectic and it stresses you out. Your boss has been giving you a huge amount of work and you couldn't help yourself but work overtime just to get things done quicker.

Being in your not-so-cozy apartment was all you can think of. Why? Because you don't feel like it. Not after what happened. You pushed to forget all the stuff that occurred but everywhere you go, it constantly reminded you of him.

It's almost 10 pm and you just got off from work, thinking if you could grab yourself something to eat before heading straight to your apartment. But your body was screaming exhaustion so you just decided to head home straight.

Home..

After the 15 mins trip, you finally reached your apartment and paid the driver. Once you entered your apartment, you locked the door behind you hearing a loud thud of thunder.

“Huh.. The forecast said it won't rain.. Weird.” You muttered before almost instantly heading to your sofa and lying down.

It's been 2 months since you and he last broke up and yet the ache was still there. Seeing him everywhere as well wasn't helping, making it difficult for you to get on.

You remembered him looking at you in despair when you told him you needed time. You remembered him telling you to not go when you were choking on your tears. You also remembered him embracing you so tight before you departed his apartment. And now, it's been 2 months ever since all that happened and here you are sulking over your own decision.

“Ah. How will I ever forget!” You cried out frustrated. “Maybe watching tv will work..” You mumbled.

Grabbing the remote, you clicked the power button before standing up and grabbing yourself a bottle of wine and a glass. As you went back to the sofa and place the bottle of wine on the coffee table, you were about to open the cap when you heard your ex-boyfriend’s hero name, making you look up to the television.

“After defeating the villain. Dynamight was rushed to the hospital due to the severe damage the villain has caused him-”

You weren't ready to see him on the stretcher all bloody and bruised up. The image of Katsuki on television made you dazed. You watched the medic pull Katsuki inside the ambulance before watching it take off in a rush to save the number 2 hero.

Without hesitating, you unconsciously snatch your work bag and fled your apartment fast forgetting to lock your apartment.

It was now raining and finally, a taxi pulled over.

-

“I’m glad you're awake bro,” Kirishima said sitting on the chair beside the hospital bed where Bakugou is on. “Why didn't you call us for backup? Bro, you could've died! That villain was powerful!” Kirishima added, worried about his friend.

“Tch. For like I care if the villain was powerful. I know I could handle him myself.” Bakugou grumbled looking out the window and watching the rain pour.

“Bro. If this is about Y/n-

“Dont fucking say her name! This has nothing to do with her!”

“Chill out, bro. I just noticed you've been working overtime lately. I'm just worried about you.” Kirishima looked at Bakugou worriedly. “After you and Y/n split up, you've been working nonstop.”

“This doesn't concern you, shitty hair,” Bakugou responded.

“Sigh. Alright, bro. I won't pry. But you know you can tell everything right?” Kirishima pressed on, trying to make Bakugou open his problems to him. He knows too well that this is how he’ll tell his problems to him. He respects his pal so much and even promised not to tell everyone about his troubles.

“I know,” Bakugou responded shortly.

A long silence was engulfing the room. Kirishima was waiting patiently for his friend to say something before getting up to grab himself a beverage from the vendo in the hospital canteen.

“I’ll get you water, I’ll grab us a drink,” Kirishima said. He was about to open the door when he heard his friend speak making him pause on his tracks.

“I just missed her.”

Kirishima sadly looks at his best friend who's undergoing heartbreak at the moment. He's well aware that Bakugou keeps himself occupied just to cover up the ache he is feeling which is not a useful thing.

Keeping his mouth shut, Kirishima open the room door greeted by a soaked Y/n who was about to knock.

“Y/n?” Kirishima said loudly, making Bakugou turn his head towards the door.

“K-kiri?! What’re you doing- Oh shit no. I shouldn't be asking that.” Y/n face palmed.

“Y/n! God! Look at you! You're soaked! Did you run all the way here!?” Kirishima asked frantically looking for a towel for Y/n to use.

“Yes. The taxi I was riding pulled over far from here so I had to run.” Y/n said panting. After catching her breath, she looked past Kirishima who was still looking for a dry towel to the man sitting on the bed.

“K-katsuki..” She mumbled tearing up.

Kirishima who heard this stopped and decided to give them space. “I’ll give you two some alone time. I’ll just buy us some drink,” he said pushing Y/n and closing the door behind him.

The atmosphere is thick. Y/n was still standing at the doorway while Bakugou turn his gaze on his lap.

Not used to this silence, Bakugou speaks out.

“Why the fuck are you soaked, huh? What kind of an idiot would run under this fucking rain.” Bakugou tched. Hearing no response from her, he added, “What? Are you just gonna stand there?”

He didn't know how much Y/n missed him. Just listening to him made her miss her more. Without asking for permission, Y/n darted her way to him and embraced him tightly, letting her tears out.

Bakugou was surprised. He was first surprised that she showed up, and now this? But he soon got over and embrace her in return, burying his face into her shoulder.

“What did you do?! Why are you so reckless!” Y/n cried out still embracing him.

He doesn't mind that his hospital gown is getting wet as long as she's the cause of it.

“You could've died! You idiot!”

“I’m sorry..” Bakugou mumbled.

“No. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for leaving you. I'm so sorry Katsuki.” After saying this, she pulled away and placed both her cold palm on his cheek as she look at him straight.

Bakugou on the other hand grabs her hand and leans his head against her palm. “Dumbass. Come’er.”

He placed both his hand on her shoulder and gently pulled her, placing his lips against her. His hand slowly made its way to her cheek, caressing it with his thumb, while Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck deepening the kiss.

Without them noticing, Kirishima watched them. Holding the knob and keeping the door slightly open while on his other hand was the drinks smiling to himself.

‘I’m glad..’ He thought

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 15

Hello!! We slowly but surely cranking up the tension between the two boys and it's going to be delicious.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

***

Eddie had every intention of telling Steve about Seth Thursday, but he was thwarted by Robin.

Steve was running a little behind because a tattoo was taking a little longer than he thought it would, so Eddie was in the waiting area for his turn.

“So, don’t blame Miranda for this,” Robin began with a wince. “But she told me about Seth.”

Eddie took a deep breath. “I’m a little disappointed she told you, but I can’t say I’m surprised. Mandy likes to talk.”

Robin hurried around the desk and knelt in front of him. “I only bring it up, because I have a different opinion about telling Steve.”

Eddie frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not against it as a whole,” she said gently. “Bad exes are bad business and that kind of shit can ruin things. I’m just saying not today.”

“Why...?”

Robin sighed, and sat next to him. “Look, you’re a great guy and I totally ship you and Steve. But don’t you think it’s a little early for the seven evil exes talk?”

Eddie snorted. “Thankfully only the one.”

She nodded. “I don’t think you should hide it from him. I’m not saying that at all. I’m just saying have more fun with each other before you going trauma dumping.”

“But I–”

“Want to move slow and don’t know how to say that without trauma dumping?” she finished for him.

He waved his hand in front of him. “Yeah, that.”

She nodded, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Just say you had a rough go at dating the last couple of years and just want to go slow. He’ll understand. Okay?” Eddie nodded. Robin paused for a moment. “And also maybe not do it while you’re in the middle of a literal business transaction.”

Eddie mouthed the word, ‘oh.’ “Point taken. I keep making mistakes like that.”

“That’s because your job isn’t usual,” she explained. “Getting up on stage and playing music for hoards of people every weekend for cash is the dream for a lot of people, but other than the bar owner you really don’t have a boss and your co-workers are your best friends.”

Eddie laughed. He hadn’t heard what he did described that way before, but it was true. His job wasn’t normal, but even though the product wasn’t the usual thing, what Steve and Robin did was essentially retail. They provided a service to a consumer at a price.

He smiled. “Point well and truly made. Thank you. I probably would have fucked it up between us again if I told him about Seth while sharp needles were near my person.”

Robin cocked her head. “That too. I keep saying it but seriously I’m Team Steddie, okay? But Steve has never been wooed and doesn’t know what to do when someone is interested, just at a different speed then he’s used to going.”

Eddie played with his rings. “Steve’s never been wooed?”

Robin shook her head. “Even when he was dating men, they always seemed to expect Steve doing all the romancing. That’s why he forgave you so easily. You went out of your way to remember things about him that even he had forgotten himself. That’s a really big deal for him.”

Eddie blushed. “Jeff and Mandy said to go big, so I just did what I would have wanted to get as an apology.”

She hugged him. “I’ll be sure to tell him that if he ever needs to apology to you.”

Eddie leaned his head back. “Let’s pray he never has to, yeah?”

Robin nodded. “And look, you have this shitty past that means you want to take it as slow and steady as you can but don’t want to hurt his feelings and lose your chance with him. Does that sound about right?”

Eddie took a deep breath and let out with a shuddering sigh. “That about sums it up, yeah.”

She let him go and he slumped against the back of the chair.

“So this is what we’ll do,” Robin said with a small smile. “You’ll hold off telling Steve until Saturday after the gig. Probably on the way to the club and then have a good time with each other knowing you two like each other. How does that sound?”

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie said, his voice shaking a bit.

She patted his hand. “Let me go see how much longer he’s going to be, because we might have to reschedule.”

He nodded.

She got up and went back to Steve’s room. She came out a minute later.

“He’s pissed it’s taking so long to get the colors right,” she informed him. “So because he has to reschedule, he’s willing to do it Sunday before he goes over to Dustin and Suzie’s.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “He doesn’t have to do that.”

“I think I pretty much established how much he wants to be with you dude,” Robin told him. “So come to the shop around noon and he’ll work on your tattoo.”

“Yeah, okay,” he breathed. “I’ll you guys there at the bar on Saturday?”

“Yup,” she said cheerfully. “Me and Chrissy will be dressed appropriately. Steve will continue being Steve.”

Eddie shoved his hair in front of his face. “Which is one of the reasons I like him.”

She grinned, wrinkling her nose. “Sap. Now get out of here before you get it all over the floor.”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, yeah. See you Saturday.”

Robin shooed him out of the shop to his laughter.

“I’ve never seen two stupider people in my life,” Erica said, leaning against the wall to the hallway that led to her and the other apprentices’ rooms.

Robin looked over at her with an even bigger grin. “Well, they are men.”

Erica bobbed her head back and forth. “That’s fair.” She walked back into her room and Robin followed her to check on Argyle and Chrissy.

“How goes the practice?” she asked Chrissy from the doorway.

Chrissy looked up and smiled. “I think I’m getting the hang of knowing how deep I’m going.”

Robin smiled back. “That’s great. I’m glad you’re finally getting the hang of it.”

“Steve a really good teacher,” she said. “I’ve learned so much since I started here and it hasn’t even been a whole week.”

Robin chuckled. “He’s like that. That’s why I love him.”

“How long have you guys been friends?” Chrissy asked. “Because I know you guys weren’t friends in high school.”

Robin laughed. “Actually we were. If you count the last half of his senior year and he absolutely does.”

“You guys don’t look like you could have been friends in any life time if I’m honest,” Chrissy admitted.

Robin cocked her head and shrugged. She moved further into the room. “Everyone says that, but they forget I was in marching band and soccer in high school. It’s not as though we’re complete opposites.”

“That’s true I guess,” Chrissy agreed. “You said your first job together burned down?”

Robin grinned. “Oh yeah. I’ll tell you about it later, I really have to get back up front.” She hesitated before turning on heel and scrambling out of the room, nearly hitting her head on the door frame.

Chrissy giggled.

*

Steve was vibrating in his seat at the table in front of the stage. Apparently, this table was reserved for friends of the band. The only reason Mandy didn’t show them to it last time was because she knew how loud it could be and didn’t want to scare them away their first night.

So now he can see every drop of sweat, every lip quiver, every finger placement. He gulped. He really wished that he had the foresight to sit in the back curve of the table and not the front. His brain was running a full commentary of all the things Steve found gross to keep his dick under control.

Steve was pretty sure he failed when he caught Jeff’s smirk. He was going to die. There was nothing for it. He was going to spontaneously combust, right here in the middle of this lovely bar.

And then Eddie winked. Steve let his eyelids flutter closed and tilted his head back in agony. He was grateful that was the song was the last in their set, because he was about to burst.

He stayed polite and waited for them to exit stage left, before he ran to the restroom. He ran into a stall and with two quick pumps he was coming into a bit of toilet paper. He carefully cleaned up and walked back out there a lot calmer, but embarrassed to the hilt.

Thankfully it was only the girls waiting for him and only Robin gave him a sly side eye about his mad dash to the restroom. So he was grateful for that. He just knew he was going to hear about it when he got home.

Finally band came out and Steve was relieved to see that Eddie had changed into something a little less ‘sex on legs’ and a little more ‘not kill Steve’.

Eddie looked good. He always did. But damn, that outfit he wore tonight on stage was a heart attack wrapped in leather and mesh.

“You guys ready for the club?” Gareth asked, bouncing on the balls on his feet.

Steve laughed. “I’m glad you guys had fun last time. But yeah, I’m ready.”

There were nods and agreements across the board.

“So where are we going?” Chrissy asked as they filed out into the parking lot.

“We decided to walk this time,” Jeff said. “It’s not very far and not worth the gas it would take to get there.”

Robin hopped up and down. “It’s this nifty little club that Stevie and I found when we first moved to Indy. It’s not strictly a gay club but it’s very friendly. It’s called Rainbow High and it has the best cocktail called Evita and it has...”

Steve tuned her out as she rattled on to Chrissy about the club with a fond shake of his head.

Eddie sidled up to him and nudged him with his shoulder. “I think your girl has a crush.”

Steve looked back up at the two girls walking in front of him. He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. I think she does, poor Miranda.”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. “I think she’ll live not being pursued by a Robin.”

They walked in silence a moment or two.

“God,” Eddie said, tilting his head back and rolling his shoulders, “it feels good to go out and not have to look over my shoulder every minute of every day.”

“Crazy fan or evil ex?” Steve asked lightly, trying to keep the concern out of his voice. In the back of his mind he kept chanting, go slow, go slow, go slow.

Eddie scoffed. “I’ve had both unfortunately, but no this one is an evil ex.”

Steve winced. “That’s rough. Nothing like a bad ex to make you want to run for the hills. It must take a lot of courage to keep taking a step forward every day.”

Eddie blushed. “I sometimes still feel like a coward, breaking it off with him, but everyone else in my life tells me I did the right thing.”

Steve took Eddie’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Sometimes it’s hard to see how bad it looks in front of us, until someone else shows you.”

Eddie squeezed his hand back before reluctantly letting go. “You sound like you know from experience.”

Steve nodded. “My parents, unfortunately.” He ran thumb over the warmth Eddie’s hand left behind in his palm. “It wasn’t until Robin pulled me aside and made examine the relationships her and most of my other friends had with their parents and see that how they treated me wasn’t right.”

“That why you two ran away together?” Eddie teased.

Steve laughed. “Something like that. Her parents were really supportive.” He watched as his best friend laughed and made wild hand gestures for a moment. “Sometimes we think they love me more than they love her.”

Eddie leaned in close. “What’s not to love?”

Steve blushed.

***

Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

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