#and if you’re worried someone will steal the cash tip

[cressthebest]

little reminder that a server’s only source of income is your tip. the server minimum wage in america is $2.13 an hour, and that pretty much just exists to cover taxes.

also all tips left on credit cards are taxed. if you leave tips in cash form, they can get out of having to report them to the irs.*

*legally, i’m gonna have to add that i do not condone this practice. but most servers really appreciate cash tips <3

[pupyr0arz]

Amab!gn!reader x stalker!soap. Dubcon/nc (sexual harassment), stalking, etc. soap is an awful ex. Mentions of murderous intent, guns, assault and abusive behavior.

you’re still working on the timing. You can’t bring it up too early, it’s a date killer and you refuse to let him win. It’s what he wants, to send any prospective other scrambling for the door, and even if spite is the only thing keeping you in the scene it’s a damn good motivator. You’re going to be happy with someone goddamnit, and it’s not going to be his toxic ass. It’s not like you’re asking much, just a casual relationship. You’re not one for commitment, marriage isn’t something you’re willing to consider, and honestly these days who is?

Aside from him, at least. You’re not sure if that counted. The ring he bought seemed more of a collar, the creep.

Never doesn’t work either, he makes sure of that. You’re not sure how he finds you, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to assume he can pick your shitty locks. You don’t move, you don’t have the cash for that out of the blue and you’re seventy five percent sure he’d track you down in a week. He was always the type. The other twenty five percent was him finding you after two weeks. You really should be smarter about who you date, an army man is one thing but one with ties to intelligence? Awful stuff to separate yourself from. You’re smart enough not to thrash, he’d only pull you down tighter. The trick to quicksand is floating away slowly, calm and measured.

The third date, if it’s going well, seems to be a nice time to bring it up. Wind the conversation into personal topics, troubles, issues, soothe them and give whoever you’ve brought back a shortened version of events. The best version of this conversation you had was at four pm, high off your ass on a hot girl’s couch where the two of you ate canned sardines and crackers and you put your head in her lap. It’s just an annoying ex who kept sniffing around the area, you know how it is. Girls pat your arm sympathetically, guys tell you they’ll send him packing. It’s all self defense tips and reminiscing on psycho exes. Guys don’t get stalked as often, or they don’t talk to you about it as much, but you hear a lot of horror stories. One time a girl lifts her shirt and presses your hand to a scar where her ex stabbed her with a knife.

You take some solace in that he’s never been violent with you. He has a temper, sure, but compared to the many, many opportunities he’s had, he’s only sent maybe one person to the hospital. He’s more than intimidating in person, built like a brick shithouse and he gets that look in his eyes that tells anything with a pulse and anything registering on a brain scan to get the hell out. Sometimes you dream of him handling bombs with that look in his eyes. You don’t know if you find that crazy, suicidal hate is more unsettling, or the warmth he still has when he looks at you.

he’s a ‘chivalrous’ stalker. Follows you around at night when he’s in the country. Burner phones leaving messages and texting constantly, he still sends you money. You use it, of course, you’re in no position to deny yourself the nest egg, but you hate how he acts about it. Every glance to him, acknowledgement of his existence or not, hell the way you pour your coffee seems to be some coded invitation to him. He leaves long voicemails of him, hand on his dick as he alternates between obsessing over your body, your dick, the time you had together, and with how worried he is about you. It’s pathological, some fucked up fetish of his to imagine you like that, an object he keeps locked away and dusts ever so gently to avoid bruising. It makes you want to punch him until his stupid, pretty face is unrecognizable and bury him in the woods. Your face burns as you try to look back the disgusting, annoying fucking babbling for the sounds of his moaning.

Like clockwork, he stops by. Jiggling your locks open and fucking around with your things. He doesn’t steal anything, but you’re pretty sure that’s just because you left your stuff when you broke up and hit the road. You used to buy shitty dollar store cameras, but he’d break them and leave thumb drives of him jacking off in your room, so you stopped the habit. He’s never had an ounce of shame in his life, and it doesn’t seem to have changed when it comes to you. He’s more brazen, if anything, when you’re dating. You play hard to get and all he wants to do is chase the bone more, stupid dog with his eye on a moving car.

You never say his name to your new flings, he babbles yours in the calls and messages. Once he mails a notebook, full sized, where he’s spent every page but one with nothing but your name. You called him a schoolgirl, and your boyfriend at the time had given you a wide eyed look of general horror. Admittedly, he’d been spooked by too many run ins with an aggressive stranger, but it was a stupid reason to break up in your eyes.

Maybe it was more than a little impulsive, but the number you’ve memorized still works. Still, you’re more than a little tired of the whole mouse and cat game. And you’re a bit drunk. Whatever, it’s not like you’re much better sober these days. You’re never rational when it comes to him, otherwise you would’ve tried to kill him by now.

It rings.

You know you’ve timed it right when he doesn’t pick up, off killing and fighting and being the scariest thing in the dark. You don’t say much, but you don’t need to. He was always sensitive when you two dated, and he’s gone above and beyond to prove the desperation of the depths he’s sunk to. You’re not trained to read people, and your only experience with fighting was kung fu at thirteen. But this fight is going to be on your own goddamn terms from now on.

You’ve gone to the range without him, a week before. He lamented about it like you shot his dog instead of some paper targets. You’re no gun nut, but you’ve learned a couple things.

Load. Aim.

“Johnny.”

Click.

[myherowritings]

PART 6. FUCK THE RICH, STEAL THEIR CANDY

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 3.7k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. enji...ew, some judgmental rich people, just a little bit of sexual tension and suggestive content to prep for the next part ;3

A/N. gala time omg let’s gooooo writing this made me 100% ready to fight rich ppl fjhjkgf and want to give shouto all the kisses ;p i hope you enjoy and tysm for reading!! xx sof 

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

The only thing you hoped for this past week was for Shouto not to regret the events that happened in the dressing room. (Or, more precisely, the events that didn’t happen because of an interruption but you both had very much wanted to happen at the time.) 

(Or so you hoped he did. It seemed like he did…) 

You groaned, burrowing your face in your pillows after flopping back onto your bed after a shower. Why was this so confusing? 

It wasn’t like Shouto was ignoring you or pretending nothing happened, but he’s just been so busy with work neither of you had time to sit down and really talk. You briefly got to see him for his daily morning coffee runs but you didn’t want to accidentally ruin what little time throughout the work week the two of you had by bringing it up. And now it was the weekend, which would have been the perfect time to talk about it, if not for the fact Shouto was picking you up to get ready at his place and then head to a super fancy gala in less than an hour! 

With a charity ball full of strangers you had to prepare for, you supposed your potential romance could take the back seat for a little while longer. 

At least the fruity little candies would be there waiting for you. 

Snapping you out of your thoughts, your phone buzzed with a message from Shouto telling you he was less than 20 minutes away from your place. Within the last few minutes, you double checked you had the necessities, like your makeup and clothes and hair supplies and shoes and possibly every ‘getting ready’ product you could think of under the sun, all ready to go. Your dress was already hanging in Shouto’s house, ready for you to change into.

Apparently, there wasn’t a moment left to spare since you soon got a call with him telling you he had just arrived. Taking deep breaths, you walked out your door, lugging your bag of belongings in tow.

“Good afternoon, Y/N,�� Shouto greeted as you settled into his car. He smiled as you reached over to give him a quick side hug. He squeezed your shoulder gently. “Nervous about tonight?” 

You tried to calm the tapping your fingers were doing against the inside of the car door. “Is it obvious?” 

“Not really,” he assured. “Regardless, you shouldn’t worry. You’ll be an amazing date and we don’t even need to stay the whole time if you would rather not.” 

Amazing date date? Or amazing fake date? 

Would it be too forward of you to ask? (Not that anything could’ve been more forward than Shouto pinning you against a wall and almost kissing you just a few days ago.) 

“You’re right, it’ll be fine!” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “After all, you’ll be there.” 

A smile. “Hm.”

It didn’t take very long for you to get from your place to his seeing as he lived relatively close to his work and therefore yours. He parked in front of a luxury high-rise apartment that was characterized by glass windows and angled architecture. It looked like something straight out of Portfolio Magazine. 

“All those ‘Japan’s Youngest CEO Bachelor’ tabloids are starting to make sense now,” you said with a teasing whistle, following Shouto into the building after being greeted by the security guards and receptionist. 

He held his hand out to you and you placed yours in his palm as he led you to the VIP elevator that brought you all the way up to the top floor. His hand gave yours a soft squeeze when he noticed your gaze darting around the area nervously. 

When the elevator doors opened, your eyes widened as you took in the ceramic floor tiles, the spotless walls, floor-to-ceiling mirror columns, and the natural light pouring in through the bare, glass windows. “Whoa— This looks like a wealthy bachelor pad if I’ve ever seen one.”

Letting go of your hand, Shouto offered to take your bag of belongings and brought it to a room for you to get ready in. “Do you...not like it?” 

“Oh, that’s not it at all!” You shook your head earnestly. “This place is so beautiful! And a little cold.” 

Both literally and metaphorically. 

His penthouse was elegant and sleek, with tasteful decor that probably cost more than a month’s salary for you. But it seemed a little...empty. Not like a home. 

Apparently, Shouto agreed. 

“I live here because it’s close to work. But it’s a little unwelcoming,” he admitted wryly. “Not something I ever really settled into. Though my mother and sister did try to help decorate.” 

You looked at the finely chosen contemporary paintings displayed on some of the walls. “They have good eyes.”

Shouto nodded but appeared to be in pensive thought. “If I were to ever settle down with a family, it wouldn’t be here. But this is what’s most suitable for now.” 

Running your fingers against the cold glass windows, you peered down into the city in an attempt to calm your fluttering heart having just learned Shouto valued having a family in the future. Something in you just liked hearing he one day wanted to settle down with someone. You bit your lower lip to stop a hopeful smile from spreading. 

“I’m sure you’ll be a great husband and father when the day comes,” you said quietly, still gazing out the window to avoid looking into his eyes. “But, um, anyway— I should start getting ready now! Don’t want us to be late for tonight.” 

His hand that was reaching out to hold you suddenly dropped to his side as he stepped away at your words. “Of course.”

You silently cursed yourself under your breath, wishing you had waited a few moments to talk so you could’ve seen what he was going to do. Would he have tried to kiss you again? You hoped that was the case, but it was too late to know for sure now.

“You can get ready in here,” said Shouto, opening the door to what looked like a guest bedroom, your dress hanging on an armoire inside. “There’s your dress. And the bathroom is right there if you need it.”

“Thank you, Shouto.” You resisted the urge to plop right on the huge bed and jump on it while he was in the room. “I’ll try to be quick!” 

“No need to rush; we have time.” He checked the watch on his wrist before turning to you. “I’ll be in the shower for a bit but if you need anything just let me know.” 

In the shower? While you were under the same roof? Your stomach did funny flips at the thought. 

“I’ll keep your offer in mind,” you said playfully, glancing over at the dress. You’d need his assistance sooner or later buttoning the dress up, but there was sadly no time for funny business if you wanted to make it to the gala in a timely manner. 

When Shouto left the room to take a shower, you began getting ready yourself. You did your hair and makeup in a way that made you feel confident and happy, and by the time you were done about two hours had passed. All you had left was to change into the dress and throw on some fancy shoes and you’d be set with time to spare. 

You were just wondering if Shouto was almost ready when you heard a knock on the door.

Speak of the devil. Or angel. He was much too sweet to be the devil, after all. 

“Everything okay in there?” he asked, voice muffled from the outside of the wall. 

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you. “Yeah! Just putting on the dress now.” 

There was a shuffle outside then a pause. Then, “Did you want any help?” 

“Yes, please.” You slipped into your outfit and pulled the front over your chest. The fabric was light against your body, making it feel almost ethereal. 

After a while, Shouto cautiously opened the door to the room and you turned to catch sight of him. He was dressed up in a fitted black suit with silky red trimmings and a tie that matched the color of your dress. His hair was combed back and to the side, pulled out of his face and giving you a clear view of his forehead. That was one pretty forehead. 

All in all, he looked as handsome as ever, but with some extra pizzazz. 

“You look great,” you both said at the same time. 

There was a beat of silence, then you both laughed.

“I’m only half in my dress and I’m sure I look a bit unruly, but thank you,” you giggled as Shouto walked over to grasp at the fastens on the back of your gown. 

He shook his head. “You look beautiful like you always do. The dress just helps compliment it even more.” 

His words brought warmth to your cheeks and you were glad you were faced away from him so he couldn’t see your all too pleased expression. “Smooth talker much?” 

“Not flattery. Just the truth.” 

Your smile grew even wider. “Hm.” 

Shouto nimbly fastened the buttons on your back, cold fingertips lightly grazing your skin in ways that sent shivers down your spine. You closed your eyes and hoped that was only a phrase and that he couldn’t actually tell how much your body was affected from such a simple touch by sensing shivers in your spine. 

You held your breath as he travelled up your back, skin sparking against skin. Time seemed to slow down as he closed the last few buttons. 

“Finished,” he said quietly, though his hands didn’t move from their position on you. 

Turning around, you caught his palms in yours, lightly stroking his knuckles with your thumb. Shouto looked down at your hands joined together then back at you.

You murmured, “Thanks for your assistance.” 

The tips of your noses were almost brushing together as you stared up at him. If either one of you were to lean forward a few centimeters more, your lips would be touching. Just like in the fitting room last weekend.

And just like in the fitting room, Shouto’s hands encircled your waist and toyed with the buttons on your dress while you tugged at his color. 

But just like in the fitting room, there was an interruption mere seconds before the kiss. It’s just that, this time, the interruption was from you.

“Wait! I have makeup on!” you cried, pulling away in despite the dissatisfaction you knew the both of you were feeling. “If we kiss it might get messed up and I’ll have to redo it and then we’ll be late to the gala.”

He made deep a sound of frustration. “Fuck the gala.” 

You wanted to. In this very moment, you would much rather ditch the gala and fuck something else, but you had to remain somewhat rational. “But we made a commitment to show up, didn’t we?” 

Shouto looked down like he had just been chided. “We did.” 

“Plus… The candy!” 

He blinked before a grin took over his face. He chuckled, “Of course. Can’t forget the greatest candy heist of the year.” 

“Exactly!”

His smile was amused but his hands rested intimately on your hips. “Besides, you put in effort to get ready for tonight, it’d be a disservice to keep you from showing it off.” 

Your cheeks warmed at his compliment as you let out a laugh. “Flatterer,” you accused, though your tone had no bite to it. Instead, it was teasing as you brought your palm up to cup his jaw. “We should probably get going if we don’t want to be late, hmm?”

“Mm.”

“But first—” You planted a kiss on his cheek, giving him just a small hint of what could come later that night. When you pulled away, there was a lipstick mark in the shape of your lips where his jawline met his cheek an you smiled, satisfied with your work. 

His grip on you tightened as his gaze turned hooded. “If I’m a flatterer, you’re being a tease.” 

“Sounds like a good combination to me.”

— ✩ —

Oddly enough, the Naruhata Charity Gala was going quite well. 

The food was yummy, there were cute places for you and Shouto to sneak off and take obnoxious selfies, and—most importantly—there were bowls of free candies scattered throughout the entire premise. 

A whole building was rented out for the charity ball to be held and the venue even had an outdoor pool and with complimentary champagne (not that anyone was exactly prepared to take a dip in the middle of the night, but the only thing that mattered to the guests was that you could). 

Both of you were having fun.

You met some of Shouto’s friends, got complimented by the DJ for your...enthusiastic dance skills on the dance floor, and, for most of the night, Shouto was successful in avoiding making conversation with his father. 

Things were going well. Until they weren’t. 

You and Shouto were standing in a hallway just outside the main ballroom, exchanging jokes and talking about how many crabcakes a person could fit in their mouth. Totally business as usual, until you heard a group of people whispering only mere feet away from you. 

“Are you sure that’s them?” a woman in a red dress whispered—and you used that term rather subjectively since the whisper could be heard by practically half the room—as she glanced at you.

Seeing their gazes, you froze in your spot. Shouto must have heard them to since his brows furrowed as he held you closer to him, protectively. 

“And you really heard them, right? Mr. Todoroki has a… You know…”  

Another girl who you recognized as another customer from the dress store the other day nodded her head. “Yes, I overheard it with my own two ears when I was getting my outfit. That’s Mr. Todoroki and his sugar baby!”

You almost choked on your crabcake. 

Shouto rubbed circles into your back. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” you said sheepishly, trying not to draw even more attention to yourself than there already was. On the plus side, at least more people would notice how hot you look in this dress with your hair and makeup done. (Though it might be for the wrong reasons…) 

You vaguely recalled teasing Shouto about looking like a sugar daddy, and he joked back. But you didn’t think anyone would want to gossip enough to overhear a joke and spread it around as a rumor! 

The group began chattering some more and seemed to gain a crowd. You even saw a large figure you recognized as Todoroki Enji walking towards you.

“I’m going to have to clear things up, aren’t I?” 

Shouto shook his head, a frown present on his face. But you knew his displeasure wasn’t directed at you. “You don’t need to pay attention to this nonsense. People can think what they want.” 

“It’s okay! I don’t want to ruin your reputation with the media when I was initially here to help it get better. Besides, they don’t seem to be doing it maliciously. They’re just curious.” 

He looked at you, but before he could think of the words to say, you walked over to the group of gossiping partygoers. 

You tapped on the shoulder of the one you saw at the store. “Hi! Excuse me…” All eyes turned to you and you tried not to shrink down. “I, ah, I know what you overheard that day at the dress retailers, but I just wanted to clear it up and say it was a joke! Funny right? Well, maybe not so funny to you guys, but it was just an inside joke between me and Shouto.” You laughed, growing nervous at the lack of response. “You see, I’m not actually his sugar—” 

Just then, a booming voice interrupted, “Shouto! What are you thinking, son?”

You almost jumped at the sound and turned towards the direction of your date. As you whirled around, you made eye contact with him. Shouto had a furious expression on his face, but when his gaze met yours he tried giving you a comforting smile. Seeing his distress, you immediately made your way back to him.

“A nice woman to boost your media image,” Enji whispered, trying to lead his son to a less crowded area, probably so no one else would overhear or spread more rumors. “That’s all I asked for. Not a…a…you know!”

Was it a criterion that rich people must not know how to whisper? you asked yourself. Either, one, no one was actually trying to whisper, or two, they could not control their volume very well. 

“Actually,” you spoke up from behind him. When Enji turned to look at you, you gave him a wave before walking over to Shouto’s side. “I’m not his sugar baby. But even if I were, what’s it to you?” 

There was a hush of silence that settled around the room and you almost had to laugh at how comical it was. 

“As long as it’s an agreement between two consenting adults, there’s nothing wrong with it,” you said, hoping it didn’t just go in one of his ears and out the other. “You could think of it as like a business deal, but...with more of a relationship aspect.” 

Enji’s face turned a shade of red. “That’s not the sort of people someone with Shouto’s upbringing should hang around with. I don’t know how you were raised, but—” 

“Stop it, father.” Shouto’s voice was angry as he clenched his jaw. But his arm was wrapped around your waist. You gently squeezed his hand with yours. “You don’t get to make assumptions about Y/N without ever even talking to them.”

“Shouto,” he said in a warning tone when he noticed more and more people were paying attention to them. This didn’t exactly seem like the attention he wanted. “We can talk about this later.”

Shouto frowned. “There’s nothing to talk about. All you have to do is say sorry to Y/N and then we can leave.” He turned around to the crowd trying to pretend they weren’t listening in. “And everyone else, you can stop eavesdropping.” 

They look startled at the forward confrontation and you stifled a giggle, leaning into your date with a smile. 

He gave you a chaste kiss on your forehead before murmuring under his breath, “Everyone attending a charity gala just to brag about how generous they are but then turning around to judge everyone who might not be in the same circle as them? How shameless.”

Although it seemed like he was whispering it, your hypothesis that rich people really didn’t know how to whisper was right, since it was loud enough for the whole room to hear. Not that you or Shouto seemed to mind. 

“You know, if you’re not going to apologize to Y/N, there’s no reason we should stay any longer,” he told his dad as a stiff goodbye. 

You nodded in agreement before taking a handful of candy from a nearby bowl. “Well, now there’s no reason to stay.” 

Spinning on your heel, the two of you headed for the exit, somehow not caring but all too aware of the eyes on you at the same time. Before reaching the door, Shouto grabbed two bowls of candy in the reception area and walked out the door with it, everyone too stunned to say anything about it. You walked into the parking lot smothering fits of laughter the whole way, still in disbelief about the events that had just occurred.

“For you,” said Shouto as the two of you reached his car, still carrying the candy in his arms. 

You choked out a laugh at the audacity of it all. He even took the bowls? The candies were free for the guests, but you weren’t so sure the bowls were. “I… Thanks, Shouto. I’m never going to run out of these candies now!” 

“Hm,” was the approving noise he made. 

When you both got into his car, he looked at you before turning the engine on. Now that the adrenaline had passed, he had a much more solemn expression on his face. 

“Y/N,” he said, sounding apologetic, “I’m really sorry about my dad. And about the gossip. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t too bad, and none of it was your fault! Besides,” you said, giving his hand on the gear shift a squeeze. After pulling out of the parking spot, he let go of the stick and interlocked his fingers with yours. “I had the best date ever to make up for it.”

“I have to disagree with that because I think I was the one with the best date.” Shouto smiled playfully, squeezing your hand in his. 

“Agree to disagree, then.” 

He chuckled and you grinned. Tonight was going great until the last hour’s mishap, and while it was uncomfortable and disheartening to hear gossip about you from people who were supposed to be sophisticated, grown adults, you weren’t lying when you told Shouto he was enough to make up for all that bullshit. You were grateful for him standing up for you and basically saying fuck rich people and charity galas in front of them all. 

Oh, and for getting you enough candy to last you at least a few months, of course.

He really was the best date ever.

As Shouto signaled to get out of the structure, he asked, “Now, should I take you back to your home or…?”

You shook your head, already knowing where he was going with this (and very much liking it). “Hmm,” you drawled, pretending to think about it. “How about we go back to your place to finally finish what we started?” 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

In all honesty, you were quite surprised yourself that you asked. But, damn, would you be glad you did.

a/n: woOO EAT THE RICH STEAL THEIR CANDY STEAL THEIR BOWLS HGFJKS, i’m already so in love with shouto but i have fallen in love with one (1) rich boy even more :3 

what to expect in the next part:

yes. it’s time for u know what ;)

y/n and shouto finally……high five <3

jkjk

THE NEXT PART IS THE FINAL PART AND YOU WILL SEE WHY THIS SERIES OVERALL HAD TO BE 18+ KSKKFG

[hotmesshapa]

VIP • Bang Chan

pairing: bang chan x female reader

genre: smut • DJ!chan x stripper!reader

rating: 18+

word count: 4.6k

warnings: strong language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, slight jealousy, very light orgasm denial and spanking, a bit of fluff

a/n: this is the first fic I’ve written in literal years and I have no idea what I’m doing, so I’m sorry in advance lol. also shoutout to these lovelies for being interested from the start 🖤 @mikoto-ica-fics @missskzbiased @bratforbin​ @jungkooksbroski​ 

There are three strict rules in the club: no touching the strippers, no romantic work relationships, and absolutely no sex in the club. Your manager had everyone sign off on his rules for a reason; you didn’t even want to imagine the chaos that could ensue if everyone was allowed to do whatever they desired in the club.

However, whenever Chan was DJing on the nights you worked, you always considered blowing off those rules. But you knew better. You both enjoyed your jobs at the club and wouldn’t risk getting fired over something as stupid breaking the few rules, despite the obvious sexual tension between the two of you. It’s not your fault that he always came into work wearing tight shirts that clung to his muscles in ways that made you drool. It’s not your fault that he flirted back whenever you playfully hit on him while handing off your playlist for the night. It’s not your fault you noticed the way his eyes hungrily stared you down whenever you were on the main stage, or the way his jaw clenched in jealousy whenever you took a guest to the VIP room.

But rules are meant to be broken, right?

Tonight starts out no different from any other work night: greeting the other girls and bartenders, taking a quick shot of tequila for an extra boost of confidence, and digging through your purse trying to find your flash drive of songs you want played for your routines.

“Got anything new for me, babygirl?”

You snap your head up at the sound of the handsome DJ’s voice. “Hello to you too, Chan,” you reply, rolling your eyes. He shamelessly checks you out and gives you a cocky grin that you can’t decide if it makes you want smack him or pounce on him “You know if Minho hears you speak to me like that, you’re in a world of shit.”

“Then it’s a good thing he’s not here tonight. But even if he was, he wouldn’t dare fire me. I’m the best DJ this club has.”

“Well then, fuck my drag,” Changbin pipes up from behind the booth, shooting a glare at Chan. “If you’re so great, set up your own table then.”

“Don’t listen to him, Binnie,” you giggle as you go back to searching for your flash drive, “He just likes to think he has all the power around here.”

Changbin scoffs as he continues to set up his mixers. “Only when you’re around. The other girls would kill to have him flirt with them.”

You feel your cheeks flush at the comment, but try your best to ignore the feeling as you turn back to Chan and hand him your music. “I have some new songs for tonight. Feel free to play whichever ones you want to watch me dance to.”

“Jesus,” Changbin rolls his eyes, “get a room, you two.”

You shoot Chan a quick wink, earning a smirk from him, and turn around to head to the dressing rooms, well aware his eyes are glued to you as you leave.

You close the door behind you and set your purse down on the vanity, checking your phone and cursing at the time. You hadn’t realized that your mini flirting session took up more time than expected, and start frantically getting ready, changing into your black satin two-piece that left very little to the imagination and applying a generous amount of body highlighter to every exposed part of you.

As you stare at yourself in the mirror, you can’t help but think about what Changbin had said. You and Chan flirt all the time, and normally it doesn’t affect you, but something about Changbin’s comment has your head spinning. Something about discovering Chan only flirts with you just makes you want to break the rules even more, but you don’t want to risk your jobs just because you desperately want him to dick him down. You wouldn’t do that to him. You sigh and slip into your stilettos, checking your appearance one last time before stepping out onto the main floor for your night to begin.

The night had been running smoothly as usual: three pole routines with the songs Chan chose from your collection (all by The Weeknd, of course), and a few rotations around the club flirting with guests, giving a couple of lapdances. You have a generous amount of bills tucked into your thong and bra, and you pull them out to count, trying to smooth them out and make them look somewhat presentable. You make your way to the DJ booth, where you find Chan leaning against the wall beside the booth, scrolling through his phone and sipping on a beer, while Changbin is behind the table, engrossed with the set he was playing.

“Here,” you say, handing Chan his tip. “You made some really good choices tonight. I had a feeling you’d choose The Weeknd.”

“What can I say,” he smirks, “You can’t just give me the option to play his hottest songs and not expect me to do anything about it. Especially when I get to watch you dance to them.” 

He suddenly leans in, closing any space there was between you two. “By the way, your routine to ‘Life of the Party’? So. Fucking. Hot,” he purrs, looking straight into the eyes.

“Chan,” your voice falters for a second, your eyes unintentionally dropping to his lips, before bringing them back up to meet his stare. You clear your throat in efforts to recover, desperately trying to ignore the heat rising in your core. “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”

“Come on, Y/N, would that be so bad?”

“God, I can’t leave you two alone for one set, can I?” Changbin slides himself between you and the other DJ, throwing an arm over your shoulder and playfully wiggling his eyebrows at you both.

You elbow him in the ribs, earning a dramatic cry from him in return, and you can’t help but giggle. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Three shots? Maybe four? I don’t remember.” He hums in appreciation as you hand him a wad of cash. “I can’t believe I’m gonna pay this month’s rent with your ass money,” he laughs, trying to shake off as much body glitter from the bills you handed him before sliding them into his wallet.

You roll your eyes. “I can give you tit money, if you pref-“

“There’s my baby!”

The three of you spin around at the familiar voice, coming face to face with a young man, his dark hair grazing his eyes as he shamelessly checks you out.

“Jisung! I was wondering when you’d show up!” Changbin greets the man with a typical bro handshake, before swinging an arm around his neck. “Here for the usual?”

“Of course,” Jisung smiles at you, “It’s not a Friday night without a visit with Y/N.”

Jisung was one of your regulars; he came in every Monday and Friday to book private lapdances with you, and only you. The first night he booked you, he almost immediately admitted how enamored he was with you, and ever since then, he refused to book with any of the other girls. And to be fair, you might have allowed him to break one of the rules, letting him grab your ass, hips and breasts as you danced, especially since that always earned a better tip from him. But now, while he still did request lapdances every now and then, he mainly booked you just to talk, and fortunately for you, he still tipped generously. He was an assistant to a big-time music producer, a job that came with a handful of stressors that he just needed to rant to someone about, and you were always willing to be there to listen.

While the relationship you and Jisung formed over the past year is strictly platonic, that hadn’t stopped Chan from developing a slight sense of jealousy. And to make matters more complicated, Jisung was well aware of that tension and loved to push the DJ’s buttons, much to your chagrin.

Jisung shifts his focus to Chan, giving him a cocky smirk that you know will be followed by a snarky comment. “I’ve been dying to see this pretty lil’ lady all day. You don’t mind if I steal her away, do you?”

“Of course not,” scoffs Chan, rolling his eyes. “You don’t need my permission. She doesn’t belong to me.”

“Awww. And I know that must be difficult for yo-”

“But she doesn’t belong to you either.”

Jisung says nothing for a moment, before cocking his head at the DJ with a smirk and stepping towards him. “Oh? Is that so? I don’t see anyone else going to the VIP room with her the nights I’m here.”

“Guys-” you feebly try to take control of the situation, but your words fall on deaf ears.

“Y/N is a human being, not a fucking dog, Jisung. Nobody ‘owns’ her.” Chan crosses his arms against his chest, looking the younger man dead in the eye. “If anything, considering you’ve been coming here and paying her the big bucks, for what, a year now? I’d say she’s the one that owns you.”

Jisung smirk immediately disappears and you swear you can feel the air between the two men flood with tension. But within an instant, he smiles again, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Now, now, there’s no need to get your panties in a twist. But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her and have some fun for the both of us. If you want, I can tell you all about it later.”

You quickly glance at Chan, his fingernails digging into the skin of his biceps, his jaw clenching so hard he looks like he could bust a vein in his neck.

“That’s enough,” Changbin interjects, massaging his temples in frustration. “Come on, Chan, you’re in the booth next. And Jisung? Just remember the club rules-”

“I know, I know,” Jisung rolls his eyes and turns back to you. “Shall we, baby?”

You nod, silently praying that Changbin will calm everything down once you leave, and the two of you head to the VIP room. Jisung opens the door follows you inside, jumping in surprise when you slam it shut and shoot him a glare, and he only laughs in response. “What? If you can tease him, why can’t I?”

You sit on the maroon leather couch in the VIP room, counting your tips and mentally making sure you had enough to pay your upcoming bills for the month. Jisung had left about twenty minutes ago, and the lack of muffled music from the main floor indicates that it’s finally 3am and the club is closed for the night. You release a long sigh, slouching in your seat and resting your head back on the couch. You close your eyes, your mind still reeling from everything that happened. Everything about tonight shocked you. Usually, Chan was good at hiding his jealousy, since the last thing both of you want was to scare away potential guests, or for Minho to notice. But Chan talking back? His reaction to Jisung’s last jab before leaving for the VIP room? Those were new.

You have never seen Chan that jealous, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, it was fucking hot. Thoughts of Chan not only standing up for you, but also being possessive of you, and what he could do to you out of jealousy filled your head, and you feel a sudden tingle shoot down to your core. Everything in you knows that you shouldn’t fuck Chan. There are rules, but you can’t stop your mind from imagining all the possible sinful acts you could do with him that you would do anything for at this point. You know that would be a bad idea, but the delicious wetness pooling between your thighs shoves any inhibitions you previously had out the door.

Fuck the rules.

You walk out onto the empty main floor, letting out a breath of relief to find Chan packing up his mixers - alone. You tap on the booth to get his attention, giggling when he jumps in surprise.

“You’re still here? I’d thought you’d be gone by now.”

“I was just counting tips,” you reply as you glance around the club, making sure you two were truly alone. “Chan… about earlier-”

“Yeah... sorry about that.” He lets out a long sigh and runs his fingers through his dark, messy hair, the tips of his ears turning pink in embarrassment. “I don’t know what came over me. I just... you know I get a bit jealous sometimes, and that prick was being extra annoying about it tonight.”

“Not gonna lie though, your clapback was pretty great. And hilarious,” you nudge his arm with your elbow.

He laughs. “Yeah, well I’m glad you thought it was, because Changbin sure as hell lectured me about it for a solid 15 minutes.”

A comfortable silence falls between you both as Chan goes back to packing up the table. You chew on your bottom lip, trying to figure out the best way to ease any tension that might be lingering, and to bring up what you truly want from him. “Chan... Jisung and I just talk when we’re in the VIP room. Nothing happens-”

He shakes his head, keeping his focus on his current task. “You don’t need to tell me, Y/N. It’s honestly none of my business what you do with the guests. Like I said earlier, you don’t belong to me.”

“But what if I want to?”

His head snaps up to meet your gaze, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from giggling at the look of utter confusion on his face. You lean in closer, lips inches away from his, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Y/N… w-what are you doing?” Chan shakily asks, his stare flicking between your eyes and your lips.

“Something I’ve been wanting to do for ages.” With that, you close this distance between the both of you, and you practically feel him melt into your touch. His wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him, kissing you with such an intensity that ignites a fire in your core. He backs you up against the wall of the DJ booth, pressing his hips against yours and gently rolling them into you, making you moan against his lips.

Chan hesitantly breaks away from the kiss, breathing heavily as he searches your eyes for any sign of uncertainty or regret. “Y/N. The rules. I don’t want you to get fired-”

“I honestly don’t give a flying fuck about the rules at this point,” you purr, placing kisses along his jaw and neck. “Do you?”

He breaks into the biggest grin you have ever seen, and it makes you smile in return. “Fuck no.” His lips come crashing onto yours, deepening the kiss to the point where it’s a mess of teeth and tongues, indicating how desperately  both of you have been wanting to do this.

His head snaps up to meet your gaze, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from giggling at the look of utter confusion on his face. You lean in closer, lips inches away from his, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Y/N… w-what are you doing?” Chan shakily asks, his eyes flicking between your own and your lips.

“Something I’ve been wanting to do for ages.” With that, you close this distance between the both of you, and you practically feel him melt into your touch. His wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him, kissing you back with such an intensity that further ignites the fire in your core. He backs you up against the wall of the DJ booth, pressing his hips against yours and gently rolling them into you, making you softly moan against his lips.

Chan hesitantly breaks away from the kiss, breathing heavily as he searches your eyes for any sign of uncertainty or regret. “Y/N. The rules. I don’t want you to get fired-”

“I honestly don’t give a flying fuck about the rules at this point,” you purr, planting kisses along his jaw and neck. “Do you?”

He breaks into the biggest grin you have ever seen as he brings a hand up to gently cup your cheek, and you can’t help but smile in return. “Fuck no.” His lips come crashing down onto yours, nipping and sucking at your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you instantly give him. You can feel his hard on growing beneath his jeans as he rolls his hips against you once more, making the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Hey, so I’m done-”

Changbin’s voice abruptly interrupts your heated rendezvous, making you frantically scramble out of Chan’s arms and dive underneath the table, while Chan quickly pretends to continue breaking down the DJ booth.

“You guys are literally the least discreet people I know. It blows my mind that you haven’t been caught yet.” You can’t see him, you just know Changbin is shooting Chan one of his signature death glares, intended for the both of you. You poke your head out from behind the booth, which only gets you dramatic eye roll from the other DJ. “Just don’t make a mess and don’t forget to lock up,” he grumbles as he turns to leave. “Oh, by the way bro, you got shit on your face.”

You glance up at Chan, giggling at your lipstick smeared along his lips, jaw, and neck, the bright red color prominent against his pale skin. He narrows his eyes at you, and you innocently mouth the word “whoops”, grinning as he rolls his eyes.

As soon as you hear the doors close, Chan pulls you to your feet, lifting you up and pinning you to the table. He attacks your neck and collarbones with rough kisses, but thankfully not rough enough to leave any marks that’ll need to be covered up for your next shift. Desperate for more, you wrap your legs around his waist and grind your hips up against his, smirking against his lips as he groans into your mouth.

Chan begins to plant wet kisses down your stomach as his hands frantically move from your hips to his belt. He begins to undo the buckle before you grab his hands to stop him, which only gets out a small whimper in confusion from the man. “Not here,” you lean up to pull him closer and playfully nip his bottom lip, before grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling it so he’s looking you straight in the eyes. “The VIP room.”

Chan’s eyes darken with lust as he harshly kisses you again, deepening the kiss to the point where it’s a mess of teeth and tongues, but it makes the heat between your legs grow by the second. You let out a yelp in surprise as he lifts you into his arms without warning, making his way to the infamous room where he’s watched you lead guests into night after night.

The second he steps into the VIP room, it’s as if both of your desires are kicked into overdrive, the desperation for what you’ve been waiting for all this time becoming almost unbearable. You take his bottom lip between your teeth again and tug on it lightly, relishing the way his grip on your ass tightens exponentially. Chan kicks the door closed, not breaking the kiss for one second as he sits down on the leather couch, positioning you so that you’re straddling his lap. You can feel his prominent bulge underneath the rough material of his jeans as he ruts up against your clothed heat, and you whimper as you grind against him, desperately wanting more and trying to indicate how much you want him need him now. You feel his hands firmly hold you in place, halting your motions and making you whine in frustration, which only earns you a low chuckle in response.

“Use your words, Y/N. Tell me what you want.”

You roughy kiss him and swivel your hips against him, smirking when he releases a throaty groan against your lips. You take a hold of the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him away from you so you can look him in his lust-filled eyes. “I want you, Chan. All of you.”

Chan smirks, giving you a quick kiss before lifting you off his lap, pulling down his jeans and flinging them off to god knows where. You hastily rip off your two piece and toss it haphazardly across the room, giggling when Chan pulls you back into his lap the second you’re bare in front of him. His gaze is locked on your form, taking you all in before looking back into your eyes. He stares at you as if you are a goddess, and you feel your cheeks flush from the attention.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mutters, his hands sliding up and down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He brings one hand to your jaw, pulling you into a searing kiss, his other hand taking hold his rigid member and sliding it through your sopping folds, making you shameless moan aloud. “Ride me babygirl,” Chan mumbles as he begins to kiss and nip at your collarbone, “take what you want from me.”

With that, you slowly lower yourself onto his cock, keening at the way he deliciously stretches you out, finally giving you the taste of what you’ve been wanting for so long. Chan throws his head back, screwing his eyes shut, a sinful groan falling from lips as you sit on him completely. Giving yourself a moment to adjust to his size, you wrap your arms around neck and pull him back so he’s meeting your gaze. You take his hands and intertwine them with yours, pinning them behind his head as you begin to ride him, slowly lifting yourself off him before quickly dropping back down. A string of illicit moans and curses falls from Chan’s lips, his hands firmly gripping yours, desperately trying to keep himself from breaking your grasp and taking control. He trails wet kisses down your chest, licking your nipples before taking them into his mouth and rolling them between his teeth, making you whimper and lean into his touch. You pick up for pace, admiring the way his face contorts into different expressions of pleasure as he throws his head back and looks up at you with glassy eyes.

“S-shit babygirl...”

His bout of self control doesn’t last much longer, because the next thing you know, Chan rips his hands from your grip, placing them on your hips as he begins to thrust up into you, meeting your movements halfway, hitting you in just the right spot. He moves a hand from your hips to rub firm circles against your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

“F-fuck... Chan- oh my god...”

You try your best to continue to ride him, but you feel your thighs getting weaker and weaker with every thrust. You feel the pressure in your core building to the point of complete euphoria, when he lifts you off of him completely. You whine in frustration, feeling your high fade, hating how empty you feel without him buried inside you.

“Don’t worry baby,” Chan chuckles at your protests, suddenly flipping you around and positioning you on all fours on the couch. He places a tender kiss on your shoulder blade, before moving up to nibble your earlobe. “You’ll get to cum soon enough.”

He aligns himself with your entrance and eases into you, the new position allowing him to fill you deeper than before, making you both release illicit moans at the feeling. Chan slowly retracts his rock hard member from you, only to instantly plunge back into you, taking no time to pick up the pace, slamming into you at a rate that’s making you see stars. The momentum of his actions force you forward on the couch, making you cling desperately to the armrest in attempt to stable yourself, praying your shaky legs won’t completely give out underneath him. Suddenly, a sharp slap comes down on your ass, making you cry out and clench around him.

“Fuck... you like that, baby?” He massages where his hand had landed, only to spank your ass once more.

“G-god, yes Chan... p-please... harder.”

You feel another slap, come down on your other cheek, this time much harder, and you can’t help but moan loudly at the feeling, the delicious sting causing your grip around his cock to tighten exponentially. You hear him let out a low groan as his hips begin to slap against yours at a brutal speed, and you feel the knot in your stomach begin to unravel again.

“C-Chan, I’m... I’m close...”

“I know, babygirl, I can feel you.” Chan leans over you and plants rough kisses against your neck. “Go on, Y/N, cum for me.”

With his permission, you come undone around him, your release white hot, hitting you like a train and making your mind go completely blank as he continues to roll his hips into you, helping you ride out your high. Your legs feel useless under you, but thankfully Chan’s firm grip on your hips keeps you from collapsing from exhaustion. His thrusts start to become more and more erratic, desperately chasing his own high, groaning at the feeling of your tight pussy still throbbing around him. You can tell he’s close, and clench around him hard, smirking as you hear a string of curses fall from his lips, his hips rutting and quivering against you as he paints your walls white, and you hum in content at the warm feeling.

Chan slowly pulls out of you and falls back on the couch, gently pulling you so you’re laying on top of him. You leans up and playfully nip at his bottom lip, making him chuckle.

“That was...”

“Amazing,” you giggle, burying your face into his chest.

A comfortable silence falls between you two, and you eyes flutter close as you bask in heat the radiates from his body. He absentmindedly run his fingers lightly up and down your back, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” He quietly asks, as if he’s hesitant to bring it up again. “Do you want want to belong to me?”

You look up at him, and you swear you can feel your heart expand at the way he’s staring back at you with so much hope and adoration. “I do... god I really do, Chan, but you know we can’t. We barely manage to flirt without getting caught, so this has to be one-time thing-“

“I got offered a job at a different club,” Chan quickly blurts out. “It has better hours, more creative freedom since I wouldn’t be DJing for strippers... If I took it, would it change things?”

“You’d do that? But you love this job.”

“I do, but not gonna lie, I mainly love it because I get to see you.” His comment makes you blush, and you bury your face in his chest again if efforts to keep him from noticing, which only gets you a soft laugh as he gently tips your chin up to face him again.

“Honestly, if it means I can do what we just did with you whenever we wanted, without having to worry about stupid rules or anything, then fuck yeah I’d take another job. The only downside is I won’t be able to watch you dance when I work.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, laughing when you just roll your eyes at him.

You sit up, positioning yourself so that you’re straddling him once more. “That just means you’ll have to come back here as a guest.”

“Hmmm...” he mumbles as his eyes travel up and down your body, his hands reaching around and lightly squeezing your ass. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to follow the club rules though.”

“Don’t worry about those,” you purr, leaning down and nibbling on his ear, earning a quiet moan from him. “If you become my regular, all the rules are off the table.”

“I like the sound of that.” Chan gently cups your jaw and pulls you into a tender, but passionate kiss.

You smile against him, running your fingers through his hair, before pulling away slightly, your forehead resting against his. “Then I’m yours, Chan.”

“And I’m yours as well,” he whispers, pressing one more kiss to your lips, before wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the couch, earning him a yelp from you. He lays you down on the couch, hovering over you with a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. “What do you say, let me show how I can really treat you in the VIP room?”

[simprisottowriter]

I absolutely adored your head cannons for Giorno and Bruno! I’d love to see some similar ones for either Jotaro or Josuke 💜

     I'd be delighted to write for both of them, rainfoxx! Both Jotaro and Josuke are wonderful choices! I have a soft spot for them! As always, hope you like these headcanons!

°Fluff Headcanons°

◇ Having built his career, his work takes a big part of his day. So even when he is in his office, finishing papers for hours, he always leaves Star Platinum to roam around the house, mostly being by your side. Star Platinum expresses every emotion that Jotaro doesn’t. It is so obvious that the stand is delighted to be with you! Being intrigued by every small task you do around the house, it is always very willing and excited to give you a hand. Even if Star accidentally ends up making a mess.

◇ Star Platinum loves learning new things, and treasures every time you read him a book. Though, whenever you leave the stand from your sight, it might end up bringing random things from outside. If you end up with someone else's drink or with a new kitten, it’s not your fault. Caring for Star Platinum is like babysitting an energetic and happy child.

◇ Jotaro loves staying at home. Crowds overwhelm him. Near you, he feels different than he does with other people. To him, you feel home. ♡

◇ He treasures the moments full of silence that you spend together. Sometimes, he likes not having anything to talk about. Just doing his thing and being near you is fine for him. Silence for him isn’t awkward. It’s a way of showing that he feels comfortable enough with you to be himself.

◇ The first time you met him, in a project regarding marine wildlife, you probably felt his overwhelmingly cold and intimidating attitude that everyone was telling you about. No matter what others were gossiping about Jotaro’s behavior, you wanted to learn more about him. Thus, you were the one who invited Jotaro to your group. Though, you were worried if he didn’t like your presence, since it was difficult to understand what he was feeling. Your worries disappeared as you listened to him answer so eagerly and softly to your every question about sea life. It was strange but comforting to see him with a much softer expression than before.

◇ Thing is, that he feels intimidating to others that cannot read him and understand him as well as you do. Jotaro is truly a thoughtful sweetheart, and once he loves someone he'll do everything he can to ensure they are safe. Even if he shows it a bit harshly and in an overprotective way, he truly cares. He even makes Star Platinum act as your personal guard.

◇ His ideal date would probably be a calm walk by the sea or a short stroll around town. Ideally, he’d like living in a small seaside town, away from the crowded areas of the city. Wouldn’t mind visiting the aquarium. Though, the exotic sea-life isn’t something that impresses him. He has already seen these rare species through his work and in numerous books. Steals soft glances at you, while you look at all the colorful fish that gather at your finger, while tapping on the glass. You can basically see him blushing through his hat, even if he tips it to hide his blushing-red face. ♡

◇ Jotaro truly falls for someone's personality and their sweet smile. Everything else is superficial. Appearances don’t matter to him a lot.

◇ At the start, he's very private about his hobbies. Though, he has many interests aside from marine biology. His hobbies don't always circle around his career.

◇ Not very good with affection or PDA in general. At first, he'd shy out from cuddling, and let Star Platinum keep you in its arms. But when Jotaro warms up to your presence, his hugs are more frequent and godlike. Full of warmth, unparalleled comfort and so protective, that you feel like you are safe from everything. You'll melt in his strong arms. ♡

◇ Avid fan of dad jokes. Says them anytime he can. Mostly says them quietly, as you are beside him, so that you are the only one who can hear them.

◇ Would cook for you whenever he has free time. He might be a workaholic, but he loves caring for you.

◇ Elegantly emanates a fragrance of body spray, paired with a soft scent of seawater and fresh air. His clothes always smell divine. Like they just came out of the drier. Generally, Jotaro feels like a gentle morning breeze.

◇ Sleeps with the dolphin plush you bought him for his birthday. Has even given it a cute nickname.

◇ He's not very accustomed to technology, but he’s trying his best! You're much more knowledgeable with devices than him, so he really admires you for that.

◇ Clean, very sharp and bold handwriting. Neat but plain. Mostly writes in caps. Never forgets punctuation.

◇ When he is in high spirits, he lets his favorite cassettes play in the background, filling the room with the gentle sound of jazz and blues. R&B is also a big favorite of his. He always makes sure to play his music not very loud, since he doesn't want to bother you. Though, you love listening to his fave songs! You always praise his good taste in music till he becomes red-faced. Adores every song you recommend him.

◇ His frequent visits to the sea are mostly work related. But even when he observes and researches sea life by the shore, he never forgets to bring home a small seashell for you. He says that its delicate and beautiful, which reminded him of you. ♡

◇ Summer in Morioh means relaxing hangouts with Josuke, full of his warmth and affection. Though, when the first leaves fall and school life is around the corner, the time you can spend together is more limited than before. That doesn’t mean he can’t go out with you after school! 

◇ Loves going on study dates. The atmosphere of the cafe is relaxing. Even if he jokes with you most of the time, and doesn’t do any school work during your hangouts, he isn't as careless as he seems. Through these study dates he ensures that you are keeping up with your studies. Plus, he understands way better the subjects when you explain them to him! University is a bit difficult for both of you, but Josuke’s presence makes it much more bearable! 

◇ Though, Josuke would prefer hanging out at home. Adores being in the safety of his room, where he could express his love for you through cuddles and any kind of physical affection. If I didn’t make this clear enough, Josuke loves PDA! Whenever he notices that you feel a bit down, he immediately squeezes you in his arms! ♡

◇ Whenever you are hanging out at home, Josuke’s stand loves being by your side! It is as affectionate as he is. Crazy Diamond always keeps you in his embrace while you are gaming with Josuke. Sometimes, it will take you in its arms just to ensure you are not harmed in any way, by checking if you have any wounds it can heal for you. ♡

◇ Josuke will always check on you, and make sure you are eating well, staying hydrated and getting enough sleep. Usually through text messages. He would prefer phone calls, as he likes hearing your voice. Josuke might not even care this much for himself and his health, but his first priority is taking care of his friends, and most importantly, you!

◇ He loves making you happy. Not only with quality time spent together, but also with small gifts! Whenever he can afford buying something extra for you, he will. He’ll spend his cash for you without second thinking.

◇ Emanates a sweet scent of cinnamon and lavender. The smell of his hair gel is very soft and characteristic.

◇ Always lets you borrow his clothes. You haven't realized how adorable he thinks you look in his outfit! ♡

◇ Delicate, legible and cursive handwriting. It looks a bit childish, but his letters are very clean! While taking notes (which is a bit rare on its own), he definitely doodles on each page. His textbook is filled with cute and messy sketches of stickmen, flowers and houses. 

◇ Usually has a variety of pop, rock and R&B songs in his playlist, which is mainly filled with Prince’s songs. Always likes sharing with you any new song he finds. He is very excited to describe to you all the emotions he felt while listening to it. Really values a good melody! Is very bashful when you send Josuke a playlist you made for him. 

◇ If you manage to wake up really early, Josuke won’t have his hairdo ready yet. His pompadour takes quite some time to do, so you always love helping him prepare his hairstyle. He finds it endearing how much you care for him, how carefully you brush his hair and apply his hair gel. Though, when its just you two, he doesn’t mind letting his hair down. His luscious, messy locks make your heart skip a beat, but Josuke has no clue. ♡

[warlockfemale]

Happy Birthday @jovialjuggernaut-draws I am so sorry that this is so late!

Bruce’s colors have always been muted.

He knows because he was told by a doctor after one of many tests. His parents had both smiled widely and told him just what an exciting thing it was. How he had a soulmate out there someplace and waxed poetry about just the sort of things Bruce would notice once he’d found them. He is one of the 30% of the world with someone made just for him that would be found out once his skin touched theirs.

What they hadn’t told him was how only 6% of the world consisted of people with soulmates that had one one another. What would have devastated Bruce once became a relief because he wasn’t destroying another’s life by making them step into the darkness with him. He was happy to date around and allow whoever had been burdened with him to go on with their own life.

And now he was staring in shock into eyes greener than anything Bruce had ever seen before in his life.

“Shit.”

“Shit!” Edward Nygma agreed. He stepped back, cleared his throat, and swiveled around. “Girls! I’ve changed my mind!” Bruce’s mind had frozen into a blue screen so all he could do was stare at the green clad (god is this how so many people usually saw the world?) trio stride out. As if Edward had an important dinner date he was almost late to while Bruce’s entire worldview was trying to stop tilting. He was sure the entire gala was staring at him or Edward at that point, wondering just what Gotham’s most popular billionaire had done to put the robbery to an end so fast.

“Bruce? You doing ok?” Hands started patting him all over. “Bruce? You’re looking really pale here.”

Shit.

* * * *

Bruce wasn’t brooding. He was analyzing the situation from all angles after debriefing it in the batcave to all persons that might get affected. Dick still refused to answer his phone so Bruce asked Wally to tell his son to check the text. Jason apparently thought there was nothing to worry about (and started laughing) and Alfred seemed less concerned about Bruce’s soulmate being a criminal and more worried about how Bruce was reacting.

Bruce wasn’t brooding and to prove it he went to answer the door soon as the bell rang.

“Delivery for a Mr. Wayne!” Nina Damfino grunted as she shoved a heavy green wrapped box into Bruce’s arms. Unlikely to be an explosive since she’d delivered it and Bruce doubted he could get away with chucking the thing away onto the lawn. So he regrettably started unwrapping the thing; hoping that Edward was watching and wincing at the unnecessary mess made of the custom paper. Taking a deep breath (and hoping that Riddler hadn’t somehow bribed Ivy into giving up some pollen) Bruce opened the box.

What. The. Fuck.

Those were Bruce’s statues. The ones depleting Zal and Rudabeh, stolen from the museum they had been on loan to years ago.

Bruce slammed the door shut in Nina’s face.

* * * *

Of course someone had noticed what was going on. Bruce hadn’t been able to stop himself from gawking at just how many different colors the world had now. Or maybe Riddler had bragged to the entire city about it. Either way Bruce was suddenly bombarded with reporters from the society page. One of them had the gall to ask when the wedding was.

“I have a preteen son,” had been Bruce’s statement hoping that could clear things up. “He is my first priority.”

In hindsight that might have been the wrong thing to say.

* * * *

“So I’ve changed the rules a little. My riddles will lead you to criminals and this time they won’t be me!” Jason was practically vibrating in place from mirth as Bruce stared fixedly at the letter laying on the table. Gordon was giving Bruce A Look.

“Word on the street is something happened at the Wayne gala.”

“Hrrn.”

“Riddler donated back some of the art he stole. Wrapped with a bow.” And with a two sheeted riddle that pretty much translated into one giant insult that the museum’s director was still trying to puzzle out. Jason had thought the entire thing was great after the director’s snub at the “newest Wayne charity case”.

“I heard.” The wall really needed to be repainted.

“Batman I need to know if this is going to explode into something I’ll need to worry about.” That had been Dick’s exact words when he’d come into the cave last night.

“I’m looking into it.” Alfred had already started to make pointed remarks about manners and facing life’s problems. “Now ‘You don’t have to look for a night on the lawn’-”

* * * *

“You know Riddler tried to bribe me into sharing information about you today at the library.” Jason tilted his chair back onto the back legs as if he had not just nearly given Bruce a heart attack with his words. “Don’t worry, I held out for a triple scoop sundae before letting him know your favorite color.”

“Jason, he's a dangerous criminal!”

“Eh I grew up with worse.” Bruce breathed in deep trying not to let Jason see just how troubled that fact always made him. Jason usually said things like that off hand, just another fact about the world. The sky was blue, Selina liked to steal things, and Jason’s childhood until now had consisted of trying to survive. “His eyes aren’t mean. And you’re soulmates.”

“I cannot tell you how little that reassures me,” Jason grinned and tipped his chair back into place the little brat. Bruce ruffled the boy’s hair as punishment earning a fake glare and slap at his hands. “But really Jason, you need to stay safe.”

“Uh huh. Think I could take on the Riddler.” Not reassuring. “I also made sure to be in sight of Barbie at all times.” Much more reassuring since Bruce had personally seen Barbra flip two grown men over her head at once. Another grin, bigger this time. More of a smirk that had Bruce raising an eyebrow. “I also told him that you liked flowers.”

“Jay lad please tell me-”

“Sir there seems to have been a delivery for you.” Alfred’s face was carefully blank, a sure sign of just what Bruce was going to find at the door. “If you do not mind.”

“Don’t worry!” Jason called out happily as Bruce stared in disbelief at the sudden garden now growing on his steps. “I made sure Ivy wouldn’t be out for blood!”

* * * *

“Ah detective!” Edward’s green suit might as well been the only spark of color in the diner as Bruce entered it. As pressed and clean as always while the man himself gave a small toast with his coffee cup. “Glad you could make it! And you solved my riddle! Very good!”

“Riddler.” Bruce sat down at the diner bar taking in Edward’s appearance. “What is it now?”

“Is that any way to talk to your new partner?”

“If you think this game-”

“Oh please,” Edward waved his hand like a magician retrieving their rabbit. “You might think Bruce’s secret is safe but I am a genius. He’s helped fund the Justice League.” Edward leaned in, eyes darting around the near empty diner as his voice lowered. “He’s funding you. I have to play on the side of angels for the only one in the universe that can understand me?” He stood up, throwing cash upon the bar and a grim smile on his face. “Now let’s get to chasing down those criminals. Quick crime question. Who was the biggest thief in history?”

Bruce stared at him, then the newspaper resting under Edward’s coffee cup. “Atlas News? Where is this going?” Edward’s face lit up, eyes gleaming as he didn’t even bother trying to hide his utter delight.

“The game, my dear Watson, is afoot!”

“Awwww.” Nightwing cooed into the communicator from his perch as Edward stumbled out the door. It was not adorable, Bruce reminded himself sternly, for a grown man to go scampering out the way that Edward did with such a look of utter pride on his face for having “bested” Batman. They both had a job to do and he was yet convinced that Edward wasn’t just trying to play another game. “Just for the record. Batgirl says you’re an emotionally repressed coward.”

Batman never sighed. In public.

* * * *

“Why hello there Mr. Wayne. Fancy seeing you um… here. At home. Working in your study.” Sometimes it was easy to forget that Riddler’s over extravagant self praise and mocking towards others covered up a socially awkward man. Alfred’s rather pointed eyebrow raise before the butler closed the door let Bruce know just how little the household held his own social skills. Perfect match Jason had cackled madly last night. One never shuts up and the other just grunts.

“I have a secret.” Bruce managed to grind out as he stared at the area above Edward’s ear. He could do this, he’d managed to disarm a bomb with Firefly setting things on fire last month. He has given this speech several times into the mirror and once to Alfred. “It is a rather large one and will affect any… relationship that I may have.” Bruce chanced a look at Edward’s face and was slightly alarmed to see the man’s lip’s twitching. “You deserve to know and if this makes you decide that a-”

“Unless your secret is that you’re Batman I don’t expect-” Edward trailed off as he stared at Bruce’s face. The green clad man’s face went blank as Bruce went through all the contingency plans for when this went bad. “You’re Batman?” Edward burst out laughing, hands flying to the desk to keep himself upright as his body shook hard. Bruce’s hand flew up to sturdy the man just to be swatted away. “I knew it!”

“You couldn’t have known I was-”

“No, no. Not that. Well, somewhat.” Edward’s eyes really were a bright green, brighter than any other color as he bent forward to give a quick peck to Bruce’s lips, one thumb rising up to trace the small scar on the corner. “I always knew you were the only one who got me.”

[tiny-maus-boots]

Queen of Hearts pt 13

A/N: Always and first thank you to my bestie @chloes-yellow-cup for always doing the thing. and to @kimmania who always gives each chapter a thoughtful review. 

13.  

“Oh, my dear it’s so lovely of you to come to brunch. I was starting to feel a little put off you know. All those invitations you so politely refused. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

Stacie smiled and sipped her cool iced tea to give herself a moment. It was true, she had ignored all of Edith’s requests to have lunch. And yes, she had been avoiding the older woman. It was a matter of self-preservation really. Keeping up the appearance of normality around someone as observant as Edith Roussard-Ford was never easy. She had a keen eye and open ear to everything that happened to the biggest families in society.

“Well…I suppose I can be frank with you. Now…that things are…resolved.”

The old woman across from her nodded encouragement and leaned forward eager for any tidbit she could glean from Stacie. It was necessary even she’d rather not talk about life with Weston. When dealing with Edith you had to give some to get some.

“Of course, my dear. Dreadful business…”

“It was hard to get away…often times my only haven was my work. Weston was…” Stacie trailed off and cleared her throat. It wasn’t acting, the rush of anxiety she experienced just thinking about that time robbed her of speech. “Weston Whitman was a very controlling man. Controlling and more often than not…violent.”

It never got any easier admitting the truth of things but she raised her chin defiantly. Edith’s eyes widened slightly but her surprise was more about Stacie admitting it than the confirmation itself. She waited a beat for the other woman to ask what she knew was coming.

“Oh, dreadful. Just dreadful. And still…you never knew? There wasn’t a hint of suspicion about his true character?”

“Of his character, yes. Of his actual coming and goings and affairs…no. I had no knowledge of those terrible things. I shudder to think of him, under my roof, sleeping next to me self-satisfied with the blood of innocent women on his hands. What a joke I must have been to him with my work at the shelter, helping him keep up the façade unknowingly.”

“To think nothing of the scandal about the money.”

Of course, the money was far more important a topic than her public humiliation and shame. Stacie let her gaze drop demurely. Money was everything in this world, who had it, who needed it, and who stole it…

“I’ll admit Edith, I had some concerns about Weston’s business. He seemed edgy and evasive and he asked me to empty my personal safe…spending cash. Some jewelry. It was nothing that would ever pay back his investors.”

“I heard the federal agents seized everything. It’s a wonder you have a roof over your head, my dear.”

Stacie’s smile was brief and coy. “Much like oil and water, money and love simply do not mix. When you’re a Conrad you learn that at quite a young age.”

Edith leaned back to watch her carefully. Weighing all that she had learned and the earnestness in which Stacie had conveyed it. She could see the respect dawn in Edith’s gaze and when the woman leaned forward again it was with eager confidence.

“You may be a Conrad in name but you are Helene’s daughter in more than appearance. Your father barely had a nickel to his name when she ran off with him. Now there’s a scandal for you!”

It was surprising and Edith laughed gleefully when it showed on her face. She’d been raised her whole life on the presumption that her mother hand done what she had been expected to do. Money marries into money.

“Didn’t know that did you? She might have run off with August but she was no fool. Van der Berg family lawyers ensured he couldn’t take a dime of it.” Interesting. Stacie made a soft thoughtful sound and Edith continued unprompted. “You have to hand it to August. He made a name for himself. All that money is his by right…I suppose.”

Stacie’s brows came up and she tipped her head to the side. “You sound doubtful of that Edith.”

“I wouldn’t dream of speaking ill of your father, dear. I know you’re not close but there are some bonds that can’t be broken. Family bonds. You understand. I wouldn’t want you to have different opinions of your father. He’s done well by your mother.”

It was there, below the surface, begging to brought into the open. Stacie could feel it between them, brewing like a great storm. One little flicker of interest and it would come out. And then things would change forever between Stacie and August Conrad. And with that she was sure the tentative and fragile bridge she and her mother were building.

But if she were really like her mother, Helene would understand why she was doing this. At least that is what she hoped if this all ever came to light. Stacie let out a soft sigh and leaned back. She couldn’t out right ask about it, it had to be done delicately. Edith watched her work through the knowledge that there was something going on that she hadn’t been aware of. It was a careful dance baiting the woman to reveal more than what Stacie herself had given.

“Well, whatever my father is or is not doing, it’s nothing I know about. He and Weston shared that in common.”

“Ah yes. Thick as thieves those two…”

There it was. The hook Edith thought she was dropping in the water. Stacie batted her eyes in mild confusion, ignoring the slightly predatory smile on the old woman’s face. Her lip pouted out just enough to give the impression that she wasn’t making the leap entirely. Stacie smiled inwardly as Edith swallowed her own lure.

“Mind you, I’m not saying August is a thief, he’s merely an opportunist you see. He’s very good at knowing who to know. It’s how he made his fortune through the years. Nothing illegal in it exactly. Most would say it’s a shrewd bit of business.”

“But I don’t see how that could help him benefit from Weston’s…activities. Of course, he knows everyone, he’s a politician.”

“Hm indeed, indeed. Of course, he wouldn’t be involved in any such thing. Strike it from your thoughts, my dear.” The woman brushed a hand over her knuckles, and not for the first time during the conversation. Aubrey probably would have called the tell earlier but Stacie was proud of herself for picking it up now. “In any case I am quite sure Senator Grant and Warren Randall would lean very heavily on your father if they felt he was in any way responsible for Weston stealing their money.”

Stacie’s heart beat double time but she rolled her shoulders casually in a shrug. Jackson Grant and Warren Randall were her father’s closest confidants, present at every family function since as far back as she could remember. Uncle Jack had even gifted her the first horse she had ever owned. They were, in a fashion, family.

“I haven’t seen Uncle Jack in a few years. Not since his son Kodie and I went to Senior Prom together.”

It hadn’t been her choice of date, and the argument that had raged in the Conrad home had lasted three intolerable days, she and her mother butting heads on everything from the color of her dress to the way she wore her hair. Kodie wasn’t a bad guy and truthfully, he hadn’t wanted to go the dance with her any more than she had with them. But it had been arranged years before the event was even due to take place. In the end they both dutifully took their places next to each other for pictures in the foyer before escaping to the limo to get happily drunk on the well-stocked wet bar.

“I had almost forgotten about the blush of young love. I was worried about that boy for a while. You heard they caught him awhile back in a house full of street whores and enough cocaine to give that Tony Montana character a seizure.”

Her brows came up at that. It seemed unlike the boy she had known but people changed and it took more strength to keep from breaking under the family pressure than perhaps Kodie had. She let her curiosity at the topic glimmer to the surface.

“A house full of…he was the perfect gentleman at prom. I can hardly imagine that scene.”

“Who can say what’s gotten into that young man. If Jackson hadn’t gotten him a job at the Port of Los Angeles, he’d probably be in an out of rehab facilities I imagine.”

She could tell by the way Edith waved a hand dismissively that Kodie wasn’t worth the energy to think on. Stacie lifted a shoulder casually giving it the appropriate gesture of disinterest that was expected. There wasn’t much more to gain from digging further. Eventually Edith would wonder why she was so eager to gossip about the families. It was better to go on to something everyone knew.

“Speaking of rehab, did you know Tristaan has a new line coming out now that he’s clean and sober? He plans to call it Clarity. I saw a sneak peek of some of the pieces and they are just gorgeous. You’d just adore the mother of pearl pin collection…”

The conversation shifted easily and she spent another hour enjoying the afternoon with Edith. She kept the tone of their topics light but her mind was turning over the information she’d gleaned. Stacie was willing to bet even money that Uncle Jack and Warren Randall were in on whatever Weston was into. Whatever business they had together scared Weston, enough to demand she empty her safe, liquidate assets…it was big. Big enough to ignore Weston’s predilection to torturing and murdering women. Stacie knew there was a bigger play on the table, she could feel it even if she couldn’t see it yet. They needed more information and she knew just which card to play. She waved one last time to Edith as she slid into the backseat of the SUV.

“Home?”

She gave Happy a distracted nod that the blonde smiled at before turning to put the car in gear. “Who do we know in drugs?”

Happy’s bright eyes cut to her quickly in the rearview mirror with curiosity. She was weighing the request to see if Stacie was joking or not. After a second she gave a delicate grunt and focused on the road.

“Depends on how much of what you’re looking for.”

“Enough cocaine to make Tony Montana have a seizure.”

This time the eyes panned up in a slow disbelieving arc. Stacie smiled widely and gestured to the street to remind the other woman to keep her focus where it needed to be.

“We might know a guy…”

“Good. Aubrey’s going to want to talk to him.”

“I’ll make it happen, boss.”

[justcourttee]

The Never Ending Cycle of Proposals

This is a continuation of this post and the idea was presented by @mystery-5-5 . I was so excited to finish it and hope you like it! :)

This was not how it was supposed to go.

Damian had made sure of it. He found and destroyed every contingency plan that Jason and the others had formed. He flew Marinette back to Paris, to her parent’s bakery so that they could be a part of the moment. There should be no possible way things could go sideways.

Clearly he had underestimated the members of Date Duty.

“-and then Marinette fell down the stairs! Can you believe it? It was her big debut at the Wayne Gala as Damian’s girlfriend and this girl got so nervous that she tripped over her own two feet.”

“That’s our Marinette. As graceful as ever.”

A boisterous laughter filled Damian’s ears as the bakery door snapped shut behind him. Checking his watch, he tried to recall how long he had been gone. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. How did Jason get to Paris?

“Oh! Damian sweetie, look who just flew in to check in on us and low and behold, he didn’t even know that you and Marinette had the exact same thought! How crazy is that?”

Damian plastered on his best fake smile as his eyes attempted to burn Jason’s smirk off his face.

“Very crazy indeed Sabine. Do you mind if my brother and I excuse ourselves for a moment?”

“Oh! Not at all, we should really be getting ready to open anyways. Please, feel free to head up to the apartment. Marinette should be back from Alya’s soon, but make yourselves at home boys.”

They both nodded as Damian stalked behind Jason, forcing him to take the steps two at a time. As Jason threw open the door, he finally released the laughter that he had been holding back.

“I really didn’t think you were going to make it. If you actually had any powers, I would’ve been scared for my life down there.”

“I don’t need powers to kill you Todd.”

Jason reached out to ruffle Damian’s hair, his smirk only fueling the smaller boy’s rage.

“What are you doing here Todd? This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation for Marinette to see her parents. You are neither relaxing or her parents.”

“Oh don’t be coy with me Dami, I know what you’re really here for, we all do in fact. Did you really think you could get away with proposing to Marinette without getting through us first? You only tore up some fake plans, plans meant to lure you into revealing when you were going to propose. Considering how quick you were to get Marinette on a plane without saying goodbye tells me you plan on doing it this week.”

Damian counted backward from ten as he tried to consider all of his options left. He had taken into consideration that the plans could be fake, but there should’ve been no way that they could’ve tracked him to Paris. He paid in cash at the airport for the tickets and flew economy, economy for crying out loud!

“I thought your whole little club was to protect Marinette from heartbreak, there was no mention of protecting her from proposals.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong Damian.” The look on Jason’s face was unnerving to say the least, but Damian refused to back down. This was his girlfriend, his soon to be finance, and the only woman he wanted to love for the rest of his life. There was no way he would let some street rat like Jason stop him.

“I refuse to allow you to ruin this Todd.”

“Allow implies that you think you have control over this and I can assure you that you don’t. Marinette will not be leaving Paris with a ring on her finger, marriage is out of the question. You are lucky that we have allowed you two to be together for so long. You are too dangerous for her demon spawn and marriage places an even larger target on her back than the one she already has.”

“Are you prepared to be defeated protecting your ideals Todd?”

“Are you Damian?”

Damian felt the low growl in the back of his throat itching it’s way forward. He was so close to Jason’s face, he could end this right here and now, throw him in the guest room and never look back.

“Damian? Jason? What are you two doing here? And alone at that?”

Both turned their attention to the door where Marinette stood, a sheepish expression on her face as if she could feel the tension radiating off the two men.

“Hey princess! I was just stopping by to check in on your parents and I definitely had no idea that you and Damian were here! You two lovebirds should’ve told someone before running off to Paris like that.”

Jason pulled Marinette into a tight hug, sticking his tongue out behind her head at Damian.

“Well, I did. I told Adrien just in case anything happened.”

One look at Jason’s smug expression and Damian knew. One little blonde went racing to his brother before he and Marinette had even boarded the plane.

“Oh that’s good then, I’m glad someone knew. I’ll leave you two alone now, after all, I have places to be and people to see and I’m sure you have a wonderful vacation planned for Damian here.”

Marinette nodded with little enthusiasm as she waved bye to Jason, locking the door behind him.

“Damian, what was that about?”

He shook his head as he pulled her forward placing a small kiss on her forehead.

“I wish I knew habibti.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Damian was on full alert for the next couple of days, unable to relax and enjoy his time with Marinette’s family for fear that one of his nemesis would pop out at any moment and steal the ring hidden safely inside his coat pocket. Every once in a while, he would find his hand absentmindedly searching for the box, just as a reassurance that it was still there.

He wasn’t scared of the members of Date Duty, but he was scared that the moment that he had planned out for so long would be ruined by a handful of imbeciles.

“Oh look! It’s Chloe and Luka! I didn’t know they were in town.”

Damian's attention became hyper focused as he narrowed in on the suspicious couple waving them over. There was no way that two members of Jason’s little club decided to fly back on the same week that he and Marinette did.

He smiled and shook hands with Luka as they chatted idly for a few minutes. Marinette promised to catch up with them later before leaning in to hug Chloe. The blonde turned her attention to him as she leaned in and hugged him bye as well. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing suspicious, nothing-

“Fuck.”

Damian’s hand went straight to his now empty pocket. He searched frantically to be sure that it hadn’t fallen in any holes that he wasn’t aware of, but alas, it was gone. Marinette held onto his hand tightly, concern filling her eyes, but he waved her off.

If that’s how Todd wanted to play, then fine. Damian was ready. It was time for Jason to bring it on. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Damian wasn’t sure how he thought the rest of the week would play out, but this was not it.

Monday he had gone to buy another ring when he ran into Tony Stark. He claimed he was there to get his wife a unique gift from Paris. Turns out a unique gift meant buying her every jewelry store in Paris, or at least majority shares, effectively destroying Damian’s chances of finding a new ring.

Tuesday he decided to just propose without the ring, after all, it just meant she could pick out a new one whenever they hit stateside again. They had made it all the way to the top of the Eiffel Tower, watching the sunset with her curled into his side as they leaned on the railing. He wanted to wait until the tower had cleared a bit, right when the sun dipped below the horizon, but much to his fear a large squeal erupted from the platform.

None other than Jagged Stone had decided to do an impromptu concert on top of the Eiffel Tower. Soon, between the noise and the crowd, Damian couldn’t even think straight, much less make space to go down on one knee. They called it a night with the question still on the tip of his tongue.

By Wednesday, Sabine had caught on to the real reason they were there. She pulled him to the side along with Tom where the both offered her engagement ring. Damian finally felt like he had caught a break. How foolish that was.

They walked into Marinette’s favorite restaurant that night only to find out that it had been bought out for the night by the Agreste family. He apparently decided that this would be an excellent date night spot for him and Kagami.

Thursday came and went with no attempts made. He had barely made it out of bed when he heard two voices in the kitchen. Praying to whatever God would hear him, Damian opened the door only to feel his heart drop. Tim and Dick sat in the kitchen while Marinette heated up some coffee, telling her all about the business deal they were taking care of in Paris.

Lucky for them, they had a day off and wanted to spend it with their favorite couple.

As Friday’s sun rolled in, Damian felt defeated.

“Mon amour, are you even listening?”

Damian nodded absentmindedly as he fiddled with the ring in his pocket.

“So do you want to go to this little reunion dinner tonight?”

“With who?”

“With my old classmates? I think Dick and Tim might stop by if they get out early today. Should be fun!”

He attempted a smile for her sake as he sent her a small nod. So on their last night in Paris, they all decided to gather in one spot making it impossible for Damian to sneak out with Marinette. It felt pretty foolproof.

“Damian, why have you been so out of it lately? This whole week you have been constantly checking over your shoulder. Are you worried about something?”

Marinette gathered his hand as she sunk on to the bed beside him.

“I just wanted this trip to be special, but a couple of special idiots have proved to make that nearly impossible. I don’t know how you dealt with them over the years.”

“Well, it felt nearly hopeless. I was convinced I was going to be single forever, but one man swooped in and saved me making me feel like there was nothing those special idiots could do. I’d like to think that he feels the same way when it comes to me. After all, a proposal doesn’t need to be in some big memorable place, it just needs to be between two people who love each other.”

Damian’s mouth gaped like a fish out of water as he tried to stutter out a denial, but it was hopeless. His cheeks felt like they were a hundred degrees as her laughter floated through the air.

“How did you know?”

“Date Duty had been disabled for a year and a half now. For them to all conveniently show up in Paris on the same week that we did? Well I’m not a big believer in coincidences when it comes to that group.”

Damian reached inside his pocket, pulling out the delicate ring that Sabine had given him a few days prior. A few tears formed in the corner of Marinette’s eyes as she covered her splitting smile with her hand.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you have amazed me at every turn since the first time I saw you many years ago. You are a strong, creative, loving and beautifully confident woman. You are my first thought in the morning and my last as I drift to sleep at night. I can’t imagine living with anyone else by my side. Please, will you marry me?”

Marinette nodded as she offered her left hand, allowing him to slip on her mother’s ring. It was no where close to the proposal that he had planned, but as her lips crashed into his, it couldn’t have made him happier.

Maybe when he saw Jason’s little club tonight, he would thank them.

After all, they lead him to the woman he loved and without their persistence, his relationship wouldn’t be as strong as it is today.

He had finally broken the never ending cycle, and man, did it feel good.

Tag List:

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[chilling-in-the-dark]

The Batboys Growing Up as Yanderes Part 4: Tim Drake

This is a yandere story; it mentions elements of obsession, possessiveness, death, murder, stalking, and kidnapping. If any of this is triggering for you, I understand, and you don’t have to read it.

As always, feedback is welcomed.

The first time Tim saw you he was nine, he was watching for Batman and Robin, but instead, he’d found you, a thief slipping in and out of trouble always performing daring but narrow escapes. It didn’t take him long to figure out who you were.

You were a child of one of Gotham’s elite, a runaway who’d been reported missing over a year ago. Officially you nobody knew why you’d left home, but unofficially it was said that you left because your father had been an abusive drunk. Tim really didn’t like to think about it or the circumstances that lead to you leading your current life.

By the time Tim had become robin, he’d had entire photo albums dictated to you, some of the photos were of you living your daily life as a street rat, but most were of you stealing things and evading the police.

Tim watched you silently for years; that is until Jason Todd died, and Batman went on a rampage. After he became robin Tim had nearly unlimited access to Bruce Wayne’s money.

You were fourteen the first time you’d come back to the den you’d made in the attic of an abandoned church to find an envelope of cash placed neatly on top of your sleeping bag. From your Admirer was written on the front in neat swirling cursive.

You shouldn’t have taken the money, even back then you knew this, money came with strings attached, but you needed it so very badly. It was a lot of money, like a lot of money, enough that you wouldn’t have to worry about starving for the next six months at least. Against your better judgment, you ended up keeping the money, but moved to a different location, hoping that your so-called Admirer wouldn’t be able to find you.

You found the next envelope six months later, it contained not only more money, but there was also a note written in the same handwriting, both the first and second envelopes had on the front.

I thought you looked lovely last night, you always do when you’re dodging trouble, but really if you needed more money you should have let me know, after-all I want nothing more than to take care of you angel.

Love,

Your Admirer

Your blood froze in your veins; you didn’t know how but they had, they’d found you again. This went on for several more years, your Admirer leaving money and you finding a new hiding place. You’d come to except this as your new routine, your Admirer never did anything that made you feel unsafe, at least until you turned seventeen, and something happened that made you run for your life.

You’d come home to find the standard biannual envelope of cash on your bed, but something was different this time. Inside the envelope, there were two photos enclosed with the money. The first was of you and your boyfriend in the middle of making out. There was a message written on the back in large angry scrawl was Did you think I wouldn’t find out. The next was of your boyfriends’ dead body, he’d been hung upside down so all of the blood could drain out of him. The killer had written you are mine in blood on the wall behind your boyfriend.

It took everything in you to keep from puking; once you’d pushed down the nausea and grief, you started to run to the nearest bus station. This time you were going to take the money and leave Gotham behind you; you’d heard Metropolis was beautiful this time of year. Little did you know you’d chosen the wrong city to run to.

Bruce and Mrs. Wayne were trying to figure out why Tim seemed even busier they unusual, that is, until they found the stash of photos Tim had taken of you. Some of them were of you evading the police, but most were of you living your daily life.

Mrs. Wayne saw a few that made her ask Bruce to give Tim the talk. She didn’t trust Jack Drake to have done it himself, and besides that, Tim’s talk would need to be a little different from other boys his age. He was a very special boy after all, he’d need a conversation that included his tendencies as well.

Bruce sat Tim down and got the whole story, how much he loved you, how long he’d watched you, the money he’d left, and you taking off on a bus to Metropolis, his plan to get you back, but he needed to get someplace to keep you ready first. Tim knew being so obsessed with someone wasn’t normal, but he’d done it anyway, watching you had made him feel less lonely.

Bruce just smiled at the boy and explained to him that what he was doing was all perfectly alright. If that was all that was wrong, it would be an easy fix. The manor already had everything they’d need to keep you safe and happy until you excepted Tim’s love.

In the meantime, Bruce could have a talk with the boy about not getting caught or dragging his vigilante identity into it. Ideally, the boy would have come out about it sooner; after all, he was nearly eighteen and ready to strike out on his own. Bruce worried whether he’d have time to teach Tim everything he needed to know.

All Clark needed was a photo of the girl, and she’d be found within the hour, it’s not Like Clark didn’t have his own wife tucked away on his family farm back in Smallville after all Bruce had helped catch her when she’d tried to run away last year. She’d run to the Justice League looking for help, not realizing most of them had someone they loved more than life, and they’d all give their right arm to keep them.

You hadn’t thought anything of it when superman flew overhead, after all, Metropolis was his city to look after, you’d seen the bat’s on patrol often enough in Gotham. Heck Robin had once saved you from a mugger.

Nor were you worried when a man who introduced himself as Clark came up and asked for directions either; why would you be, you weren’t in Gotham anymore, this city was so much safer. At least that’s what you thought, but you realized you should have been more cautious when your head started to spin because as soon as you turned around to point in the direction the man needed to head, he’d stabbed you with a needle.

In the half-second it took you to lose consciousness, you wondered if this was the mysterious Admirer who’d killed the love of your life, but you’d find out soon enough that it wasn’t him, no for better or worse the Admirer was Tim Drake.

You woke sometime later in an unfamiliar room with a killer headache, the first thing that should have tipped you off to the fact that this wasn’t your room was that the bed beneath you was soft, and so was the blanket that lay over top of you. At first, you thought you were alone, that is until you finally managed to pry open your eyes.

A boy about your age sat in a chair beside the bed, you knew who he was, anyone with half a brain would recognize Tim Drake. Having noticed your awakening, he leaned over the bed to gently run his thumb over your jaw. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said affectionately. He had the gall to look surprised when you slapped his had away and made a break for the set of doors nearest you. Which turned out to be a large walk-in closet.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Tim asked as he watched you fly over to the next set of double doors. His voice sickeningly sweet, he knew that what you were doing was a normal response to your situation. Tim wasn’t delusional enough to think that you’d love him right away, but he wasn’t like Dick. Tim wasn’t going to force your love because he knew given enough time, you’d come to care for him on your own.

You’d given up trying to open the obviously locked doors only to start pounding on them with your fist, screaming for help that would never come. Tim was torn between waiting for you to wear yourself out or stop you from hurting yourself, at least you hadn’t tried to attack him yet. Bruce had told stories about when Mrs. Wayne had spent time in this same room, he couldn’t even bring her breakfast without her trying to attack.

That gave Tim hope because they were one of the most loving couples he knew, he just needed patience, and you’d love him as much as he loved you. Tim had been patient for eight years, what was a few more in comparison to that. He kept the smile on his face as he walked up behind you and held your arms to your chest before you could do any permanent harm to yourself.

Tags:

@yanderepeterparker​

@idkmanicantenglish​

@prettyafghan

Grow up as only

@neon-phosphorecsent​

@foggyturtleknightangel

[hannie-dul-set]

who in svt would agree to rob someone's house with you

first of all, stealing is a crime what the hell. second of all— be sure to be strapped with the right equipment, wear dark clothing, and make sure that the person you're stealing from is a rich, privileged, capitalist bastard that deserves to get all their belongings stripped from them <3 have fun!!

seungcheol: "cheol, wanna rob a h—" sirens ring, people (seungcheol) start(s) screaming, and all of a sudden you're locked up in a room. i'm sorry but mr. choi will NOT tolerate nor condone any behavior of such. you're behind bars now, criminal "cheol this is your bathroo—" BEHIND BARS SHUT UP. he'll let you out after maybe 15 minutes because he'd start to feel bad that you're locked in there and will lock himself up instead cause of the guilt </3 | rating: 2/10 if you like getting locked up/handcuffed you nasty.

jeonghan: dude can get away with extortion, dude can get away with tax evasion, dude can get away with MURDER you think he'd get his hands dirty for something so small such as robbery? psh, alright fine since you asked. you're like "uh, han where did you get these grappling hooks?? and ski masks??" and he's like shh a magician never reveals his secret now help me break open this window | rating: 8/10 only because he'd throw you under the bus if you get caught lmao good luck playing with fire.

joshua: "no ❤" he'd gently decline, but he wouldn't stop you. he'd even volunteer to bail you out if you get caught awh how sweet <33 shua doesn't want to get involved in any of your fiendish tendencies, he has a gentleman persona he has to keep up and you won't get him to commmit theft no matter HOW tempting and fun you make it out to be. you're like "but josh, i'm robbing jeonghan" and he'd be like SWEATS "uh,, give me some time to think" | rating: 5/10 he ends up agreeing to rob jeonghan and you both end up getting caught but at least you're caught together!

junhui: he'd be like "oh yeah sure sounds fun" dismissively. but when you pull up in front of his house, rope in hand, dressed in black and everything he's like "OH,, right i forgot—" and you're like DAMMIT junhui but he still comes with you anyway. you ultimately regret your decision because the entire time he's like "what do we now? what's the hammer for? wait what exactly are we gonna steal?" and you're THIS close to committing murder, instead | rating: 5/10 because participation points.

soonyoung: in theory, he's ALL FOR IT like he would be so excited and enthusiastic he has an entire 47 step plan of absolute mastermind genius and he's like "this is FOOLPROOF we're gonna steal like thieves 😎" and you're like "soonyoung we ARE thieves". but in practice, uh. he's excited right. too excited. okay maybe OVER excited because holy fuck he's acting like this 007 agent or whatever. he ends up squealing cause wow!! i'm so badass!!! and you end up getting the cops on you rip | rating: 7/10 because the police chase is a whole 'nother story to unfold.

wonwoo: "alright, here's what you're gonna do—" the dude has read so much crime novels that he knows EXACTLY where you should enter, what you should bring, how to escape, where you should snack in case you get hungry but the thing is, he is NOT coming with you lmao. he's not dumb enough to risk it, sorry y/n <3 make sure to give him at least 50% of what you got though, he isn't giving this knowledge for free | rating: 6/10 because his tips were actually helpful but you had to do all the work so fuck you wonwoo i'm robbing you next.

jihoon: he would be helpful like REALLY helpful but hoonie doesn't want to </3 "oh? you wanna be a criminal? good luck i guess?" proceeds to delete you from his contacts because he doesn't want to have connections with a thief rip. but maybe if you're like "jihoon pls i have negative dollars in my bank account you're anti-poor if you don't help me" and he'd be like "that's it??? here bitch eat" then he'd throw money at you like it's nothing and it IS nothing because jihoon rich | rating: technically a 1/10 but is it really a loss if you got cash.

minghao: i don't know how to tell you this but minghao is the exact guy i would steal from and he'd probably let you so | rating: invalid. everyone let's eat the rich and we're starting with hao <3

mingyu: oh no. oh nono sweetie what are you getting yourself into this is a bad idea but if you're one for bad ideas then alright. he'd be too scared to actually rob the place so he just volunteers to be your lookout!! that would be good right? no risk that he'd break something while you're sleuthing?? right?? WRONG like i said he's nervous bcs omg what if i get caught?? WHO'S GONNA FEED BOBPUL??? he'd panic, blowing your cover and oops you're at the police station now | rating: 4/10 you didn't get to steal anything but his spider legs managed to get you guys away.

seokmin: ....why? he'd try to convince you not to like he will CRY just so you won't actually do it because why would you want to steal? :< normally you'd just say nevermind!!! i won't steal ahaha that was a joke yes a joke. but if you're a DEMON and would actually push through it, expect a million calls and texts from seokmin as you're trying to rob. it would be sweet because awh kyeom is worried <3 but it's all heart eyes and uwuwu's until aju nice starts blaring from your phone for the 37th time that night | rating: 0/10 infinite aju nice can't save you this time.

seungkwan: well he won't necessarily agree to help you. he's just there to watch you in case things go wrong because that's a free show, ladies and gents!! you're like "kwan, help me climb up this window" and he's like lol. good luck. victory is fruitless without a struggle <33 you end up breaking a vase?? hilarious. you can't find the keys to the door? lmao what a loser? the house owner is actually your ex and you're trying to get revenge? oh my god WHERE is the popcorn | rating: 3/10 because he has everything on tape and yeah it was pretty entertaining.

vernon: he's down. absolutely. just tell him what to do and he'd to it with flawless execution. a clean robery not even sherlock holmes can tell that you broke in. suddenly it became a regular thing between the both of you and would you look at that!! robin hood duo on the rise in town— says the local paper. what's this? you two have fans now? damn looks like stealing was the way to go, after all | rating: 10/10 rob. help the poor. publicity. rich and famous.

chan: veryyy hesitant at first but you manage to coax him into it by saying that this will probably end up in the news and he's like "news??? i'll be on the news??? nEWSHSHSJSJ??" and you're like "yeah but let's make sure to keep our names out of that alright" and so he agrees. you two are ambitious so you rob a fucking mansion with state of the art security but no technology can beat a lee chan who wants to go down in history | rating: 9/10 minus one point because you two were too good and there was no entertainment value </3

[bitchesgetriches]

Aight Bitches. I need help because i may just be being paranoid for no reason.

Someone sent me money on Paypal and idk who or why. I have some post with the paypal info on it for commissions/help with vet bills but they didnt say "Hey, this is a random tip." Or "good luck with your vet bills". Just a random name and money. I had heard that there was a cashapp money stealing thing a while back so could i lose money if i accept this random money? Also is it safe to relink your bank info to cashapp?

Thanks for whatever help you can give❤

Ok this question will sound completely batshit, but bear with me: Are you Black???

I ask because of the episode of Reply All where Emmanuel Dzotsi talks to Black people in the height of the Black Lives Matter demonstrations last summer, who were just randomly getting money from white people through PayPal. The episode is hilarious, but also a little absurd and concerning, so it stuck with me. Anyway, just curious! 

This is probably more likely connected with your vet bills, tho. Sometimes I drop into people’s donations to leave $5 without much explanation because I want to help, but don’t have a ton of time to write out a personalized note. 

You’re right to worry about scams, but I don’t think that accepting this money through PayPal will leave you open to theft. If you’re truly worried, try to reach out to the person to thank them and ask why they sent you money.

As to Cash App, here’s what I found to help keep you safe: https://cash.app/help/us/en-us/6482-recognize-scams

[eccentricpony]

Hello!! I really enjoy your writing~~! May I request a cafe date h/c with Taichi? Tysm!!💕

Hi dearie! Aww, thank you so much! And YES I love Taichi, he’s such a cutie boy. Here you go, hope you enjoy!

Taichi tapped his fingers on the quaint café table along to the rhythm of a Guilty Summer song that was stuck in his head. Maybe you weren't going to show up? His big, teal eyes light up at the sound of the squeaking front door, but it’s just a pair of old ladies. Sigh.

He ran a reel in his head over and over again of all the romance advice Kazunari had given him.  Although he had his doubts that any of Kazu’s advice had actually been tried-and-true. And then there was the advice he got from Banri. And Omi. And Sakyo. Wait, why did he ask Sakyo?  The door opened once more, and he watched forlornly as a woman and her baby entered the establishment.

Well, he should have anticipated this. I mean, you were just so funny and smart and SO so super cute that it was just a matter of time until you realized how amazing you were and how incredibly average he was and then left him to find someone equally as amazing as yourself. You were probably at another café right now, giggling at the awesome guy’s super funny jokes, and swooning over-

“Hey, Tai-tai!”

Taichi bolted upright at the sound of your voice. He looked up at you like you were The Creation of Adam on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel; with awe and baited breath. Cue the butterflies in his stomach.

“Ah, uh… h- hey!” The red-haired boy snapped out of his self-pitying reverie and stood to face you. You looked so sweet in your outfit, and was that the cardigan he helped you pick out last week? It looked so good on you – peach was definitely your color. Your rose colored sneakers looked so cute, too. They matched the cute af rosy tint that colored your cheeks at the moment. Damn, every color was totally your color.

“See that, hon? I knew they’d show up!” The kindly middle-aged waitress beamed at you as she spoke. You looked over at Taichi, shuffling his feet awkwardly adorably. “Go ahead and place your order at the register whenever you’re ready.” With another thoughtful glance, she hurried off to check on another table.

“Were you waiting long, Tai?” You took a seat across from his at the table, placing your bag on the seat next to you.

Ugh, that’s right, you damn fool, he berated himself inwardly as he followed your lead and took his seat. He had arrived there 45 minutes early to make sure he was there before you so you wouldn’t think he stood you up.  He opened his mouth to respond, but the next words spoken were yours.

“You look super cute today,” you gushed, to the response of pink-tinted cheeks on Taichi’s face. He did though; dressed in all monochrome colors, his shock of crimson hair and big, bright viridian eyes took center stage. You adored your pseudo-punk cinnamon roll, and you never believed it when he told you that this was his first relationship. He was such a thoughtful, sweet, supportive boyfriend; how could you possibly have been the first to notice how wonderful he is?

“S- so do you, you always do,” he responded sincerely, though it came out mumbled and he spoke it into the laminated daily specials menu that lay before him. The butterflies in his stomach are now throwing a rave, and his cheeks match his brightly dyed locks below the smattering of fading freckles.  His fingers fumbled with a tightly rolled bundle of silverware as he braved another look at your face. He hadn’t been on a boat since he was little but man, your pretty eyes made him feel like he was seasick in the best possible way.

“Should we go order then?” There was no need to look at a menu; you both always ordered the same things every time. Taichi jumped to his feet and ran his fingers through his wild mane of hair.

“I can go order it,” he asserted, patting the wallet in his seat pocket to make sure it was still there.

“You sure, Tai? I don’t mind waiting with you.” As much as he’d love your company while waiting out the queue, he wanted to be all gentlemanly and show that he listened to you. And he really did; in fact, he had been reciting your order through his head since this morning. He could say it in his sleep at this point, he was sure of it.

“Nah, you just wait here and chill, I got this.” Taichi flashed you a winning smile, a smile that always carried a hint of unintended mischief. Your heart did a flip as you nodded in consent. With a pep in his step, the skater boy hurried off to the cash register.

A few minutes pass and still no sign of Taichi. Maybe he decided to wait at the counter for the drinks?  You return your phone to your bag and consider seeking him out when he at long last returns to the table, empty handed. His face is ruddy as he rubs the back of his neck, meeting your eye sheepishly.

“S- sorry… was it… extra extra foam, or was the extra extra for the cinnamon? Or is it no cinnamon?” This poor puppy.  

“Taichi, I don’t mind coming with you, I know my order is a huge pain…” You want to give him a tight hug but this confused cutie is near passing out from all the blood rushing to his face today, you don’t want to add to it.

“No, no…” He shook his head resolutely. “Please, I got this, for real. Can you just say it for me one time?” You smile at his determination and detail your usual drink for him, leaving out an ingredient or two for simplicity’s sake.

“Got it!” he declares and swiftly heads back to the front counter, eyebrows screwed up in concentration as he mouths the ingredients to himself. Pulling out your cell once more, you launch the Gallery and scroll through all the pictures you’ve taken of you and your beau. You especially love the selfie you took of the two of you sharing an ice cream at the beach. He had wanted you to delete it because he had a chocolate chip on his upper lip, but you insisted that it was one of the cutest pictures of him ever and he gave in.

You recall wiping it off his lip with your pointer finger after you had both noticed it in the pic, and he bit his lip shyly in response to your touch You wish you had a pic of that in your phone, the thought of his coy expression gave you goosebumps. With a few speedy taps, you made the ice cream pic your new home screen.

“I’m back!” Taichi announced upon his return. As promised, he delivered a tray of your two drinks upon the table, along with seven pastries.  “They, uhh… they had a bunch of your favorites so I just got ‘em all.” He plopped down across from you, stealing a worried glance at your expression, hoping you didn’t think that was a totally stupid thing to do.

“You are the sweetest!” you praise, leaning over a lemon cake and mini éclair to touch his face. Taichi jerks his arm in surprise at your approach, nearly tipping his drink across your sweets buffet, but mercifully it merely wobbles and remains upright.

You ran your fingers across the black plastic points protruding from his right ear and Taichi swallowed the meager amount of saliva in his now parched mouth. Leaning further still with a mischievous grin, you mercilessly stroked the skin behind his ear with your finger, knowing full well he would become a flustered mess. His entire body responded to your touch, nerves head to toe fizzing from the smell of your shampoo further rendering him senseless.

“Next time, it’s my turn to buy our drinks, okay babe?” His body tensed up as it did anytime you used a term of endearment. Your head felt swimmy looking into his lovely ocean-colored eyes. Before you had a chance to chicken out, you closed the distance between you two and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Taichi exhaled an inaudible gasp upon contact, his mouth impossibly soft as it cushioned your own, though it took him a few frazzled seconds to lean into your affection. The kiss seemed to last forever, yet it ended far too soon.

Meanwhile, the butterflies in Taichi’s stomach had started a mosh pit. Re-opening his eyes, he watched as you returned to your chair, and he couldn’t do much more than simper at you like the lovesick puppy that he was. Suddenly, all of his pre-planned formalities seemed a lot less important than the adoration in your eyes that you held for him just now.

“How ‘bout next time we do it together, babe?” he suggested with a playful wink, lifting a cherry Danish and holding it out for you to take a taste.

[vibing-and-writing]

A Grove of Trees

A/N: hi!! Apologies for my inconsistent posting but life has been a crazy time recently!!! Anyways, here is the piece I will be submitting for @gingerwritess​‘s writing challenge for the prompt “a grove of trees”. Congrats on 4,000 bby!! I hope you enjoy this fic!!

Warnings: N/A (just witch tingz) 

Summary: When Bucky is sent on a stakeout to investigate ‘suspicious activity’, he meets someone unexpected instead.  

Witch!Reader X Bucky Barnes 

The day Fury told him he would be doing a stakeout, Bucky could feel the back pain coming already. Sam could call him an old man all he wanted, it still wouldn’t change the fact that Bucky hated stakeouts. Specifically stakeouts like this one that involved staying in a tiny hut in the woods, watching a cabin that has had, according to Fury, “suspicious activity” going on inside. Fury had refused to tell Bucky what “suspicious activity” had been happening, only that some of the plants of the cabin’s garden looked like something out of another realm. The plants overgrown, scoring the walls and fence of the garden, but well-loved by what seems to be a woman who only comes out once a month. Bucky found it hard to believe that one woman in the middle of the woods had caught the attention of SHIELD, so much attention that he had to be sent on a stakeout but nonetheless accepted the mission with a promise of a month-long vacation by the end of it.

It was two days into the stakeout that Bucky suggested he sneak into the cabin, but Fury strongly suggested against it saying “It’s too risky with how little we know.” When Bucky had asked about a background check on the woman, Fury said that not even their high-tech cameras could capture more than an extremely blurry picture, so blurry it couldn’t be traced. It was mysterious, to say the least, and by day three Bucky had just about had it. With a near-constant combination of a headache and back pains, Bucky was done. Putting his Avenger status to good use and a small argument with Fury, Bucky stood at the door of the cabin with strict orders to only engage if absolutely necessary. 

Bucky’s eyes settled into a glare, assessing his surroundings with expertise. The worn door has sigils and signs written with different colored chalk in a language he can’t recognize, but he goes to knock on it either way. Before his hand can touch the wood, the door swings open with a gentle whoosh. Hiding his surprise with a frown of his lips, he walks into the area with trepidation, senses on high alert. The cabin looks lived in, glass jars stand proudly near the windows, more sigils drawn on the sills. A counter is near the back of the cabin, a small cash register makes it home, with a tip jar and bell next to it. The walls are nearly filled to the brim with jars with different labels, some saying ‘protection’ or ‘luck’. Dried herbs are strewn on the rafters of the ceiling, filling the room with almost too many aromas as Bucky holds back a sneeze. Two signs near the cash register say ‘don’t see me? ring the bell!’ and ‘please don’t steal’, both seemingly hand-drawn with uneven smiley faces. Bucky walks closer to the counter with bated breath, his shoulders un-tensing without his permission as he rings the small bell. 

The twinkling of the bell seems to make the cabin come alive as Bucky hears a muffled voice come from below him. “I’ll be right up!” Bucky doesn’t bother hiding his surprise when he hears the voice. Hearing some crashes and stomps his shoulders tense up again, but he nearly jumps in surprise when he realizes his back and head don’t hurt anymore. 

There is a flurry of movement from behind the counter, a small creek being heard from what seems to be an opening in the floor. Bucky takes a step back as a woman stands in front of him behind the register, a bright smile on her face. Bucky goes to speak before he’s interrupted by the woman. “Welcome to Grove Of Trees, how can I help you?” She says it softly but with an air of confidence as if she already knows why he’s there. Heat starts creeping up his neck and cheeks, but not because of the lack of air conditioning. This woman is beautiful, though he tells her later that it’s not enough to describe her. Bucky had seen plenty of beautiful women in his 100-something years, but none of them shined as she did. Her lavender sundress only enhanced her features, the flowers in her seemed like they belonged there. Putting on his signature ‘scary face’ as Sam called it, he tries to think of something to say to her. Her expression seems to change from investigative to understanding as her eyes widen slightly. 

“Oh, so you’re the one that they called…,” she trails off with uncertainty. She even gets on her tippy toes to throw a glance over his shoulder, her eyes questioning as they land back on Bucky. Bucky looks at her slightly bewildered, his senses feeling dulled and on overdrive at the same time. “The one they called?”, he asks, thoroughly confused. The woman shakes her head, fixing her face with a small smile as she starts grabbing some vials from one of the many shelves. “Nothing for you to worry about, I’ll just have to consult the cards again, you know how finicky they can be,” she says, voice sounding similar to the bell he’d rung when he got here. Trying to ignore the calm feeling invading his senses, Bucky tries to think of the things he does know: this woman is a potential threat, this appears to be some sort of shop, and this woman is… glowing? “Mhm, yeah, for sure,” he replies with a nod, trying to sound like he understands what this mystical woman is talking about. The woman grabs a small teacup from behind the counter and a tea kettle (where she got it from he has no idea) and starts pouring some of the liquids from the vials. When Bucky gives a slight raise of his brow, she gives him a small quirk of her lips. “Your back and shoulders are tense, no? This tea should help relax you a bit,” she says, her voice soft and calm. While her voice draws him in like a siren, Bucky tries to keep his senses on high alert, reminding himself this woman is a threat. 

“Thank you, but that’s not why I’m here,” Bucky says, trying to keep his face from relaxing too much. Her expression seems somber at that, the room seeming to lose a bit of its luster, and he feels his heart sink. Bucky soldiers through the air of disappointment. “I’m investigating some suspicious activity in this area.” Her expressions seem to go from bad to worse at that, her brows furrowing, the warmth in her expression fleeting. 

Looking Bucky up and down, her eyes widen a bit in recognition before she starts putting away the vials again. “Fury sent you here didn’t he? Blessed be, how many times do I have to tell him I’m not going to be his next Avenger,” she says, grabbing more vials before waving her hands in various directions. The plants seem to stand at attention, many of the herbs on the ceiling floating gently into her hands. Her motions are quick and agitated, brows furrowing more as she continues. “How dare he, after I was kind enough to send him and his stupid lab a sample of my plants, which are my mother’s by the way, for him to send me another agent.” 

She stops her rant to look at Bucky then, who is stood in a bit of awe and confusion a growing trend as her expression softens. “At least they sent a cute one,” she mutters to herself, unaware of Bucky’s super hearing. Bucky’s blush makes its home from his ears to his neck, the woman’s words affecting them more than they probably should. She slides the teacup closer to Bucky, expression calmer as more light filters through the cabin windows. “You might as well drink it since it’s been brewed. I’m sorry to have wasted your time,” she says, her expression apologetic, if not a bit embarrassed. 

Bucky snaps out of his confusion then, mentally cursing out Fury for making him do a stakeout for no reason, especially when the woman was clearly not interested. “‘S not your fault, Fury doesn’t normally take ‘no’ for an answer,” Bucky says gently taking the cup in his gloved hand. She gives a small huff then, her expression growing less exasperated. “He likes to think I don’t notice those cameras flying around, but I just don’t need that responsibility. I’m just a flower girl in the woods,” she says, her hands blindly grabbing a vial before bringing it up to her nose. Bucky looks at questioningly before she tips the vial in his direction, a distinct smell of eucalyptus wafting at his nose. “I don’t know anything about flowers, but I can see why Fury wanted to recruit you,” he says, his shoulders relaxing as he lets the aura of the cabin envelope him. She looks at Bucky questioningly, her eyes shimmering. “Why do you say that, handsome agent?” Her tone is a bit mischievous, her smile growing. Bucky lets his lips quirk into a smile as the blush returns to his face, his heart thumping in his chest. “We don’t have anyone on the team who is like you,” he says genuinely. The room seems to get a bit brighter, but she looks disbelieving. “Don’t you have the Scarlet Witch?”, she proposed. Bucky gave her a very obvious once-over, wondering how this woman didn’t know she was the most vibrant being he’d ever seen. Wanda was an amazing person but Bucky’s instincts were telling him this woman was more than what he’d seen today. “You seem to be more than just a flower girl in the woods,” he replied, the blush still present on his cheeks. Her eyes move away from his, her hand fiddling with the vial as her face grows flustered.

Suddenly her eyes widen and her posture stiffens, the room brightening as if a light bulb had been turned on. “Oh this makes much more sense…” she says to herself. Bucky looks at her questioningly before she straightens her back and looks at him directly in the eyes, narrowed but not maliciously. Learning from the past couple of minutes, he resigns himself to the fact that this woman will probably never make full sense to him. Many emotions show quickly over her face from confusion to surprise to understanding. Seemingly settled, she looks at Bucky almost appreciatively. 

“You can tell Fury he’ll see me very soon,” she says, her voice confident. Bucky stares at her for a moment before replying tentatively, “You’re not joining just ‘cause Fury is pressuring you right? You don’t owe him anything.” Shaking her head she gives Bucky a soft look, her posture relaxed but sure. “No, you could say I have a good feeling about being an Avenger,” she says, a smirk on her lips. Bucky stares at her for a moment, trying to figure out this enigma of a woman. A sigh escapes his lips as Bucky looks at her consideringly, “If you say so.” Turning his body to leave, he feels something warm touch his hand. His head snaps towards the source, the woman now a couple of inches away, no counter between them. 

“I’m assuming I’ll be seeing you again,” she says, the contact bringing back the blush to his cheeks. Bucky tries to get rid of the haze in his head, struggling to get back any semblance of control as his heart beats loudly in his chest. “I hope so,” he replies, his voice too eager for his liking. 

She gives him a sunny smile, her eyes crinkling, and nose scrunching as she drops her hand from his. Before Bucky can be disappointed at the loss of touch, she says, “Have a good day, handsome agent.” All coy and happy, Bucky couldn’t help but smile back, the blush on his cheeks coming back full force. Continuing towards the door, all he can muster is a small wave before he walks out into the woods. 

Not far from the door stands a very smug Nick Fury, complete with a SHIELD jet waiting behind. Bucky’s smile drops from his face, a frown taking its place. “Mission completed Sarge, time for that vacation,” Furt says, his tone overly cheerful. Feeling his headache coming back already, Bucky points an accusatory finger at Fury. “Why would you send me on a useless stakeout when the woman was clearly uninterested,” he asks, already having an inkling to what the answer is. Fury gives him a small nod before replying, “She ended up saying yes didn’t she?” He says it as a rhetorical question, but not without promptly waking into the jet. 

Bucky heaves a sigh before looking back at the cabin. Focusing his ears he can hear more clangs and crashes, the vibrant woman inside doing God knows what. A smile takes its place back on his face, his heart beating faster at the thought of seeing her again.

[violetnotez]

SHE IS HERE. PART TWO. BY EXTREMELY POPULAR AND LATE DEMAND!!!!

This fic. THIS FIC RIGHT HERE. HAS BEEN FIGHTING SO HARD I AM DONE THIS HAS BEEN A STRUGGLE. If there are typos I AM SORRY- just msg me and ill fix it if its that bad im just tired!

Kirishima x reader

⤷Genre: Angst, Fluff

⤷Word Count: 9k+ (-this has the weekly prompt for the @bnhabookclub​ discord -“Im fine” :)

⤷ Warnings: slight mentions of blood, cursing, suggested spicyness at the end

⤷ Synopsis: It’s been exactly 3 months since the last time Kirishima saw you, after you had abruptly ended things with him. He’s been trying to forget you, but it’s no use-he’s still madly in love with you, and wishes he could get the truth of why you two ended. What a shocker when he gets a chance to ask his questions-and he learns the truth about your villainous life.

Song Recs: ⤷ “Breakeven”-The Script ⤷ “Lucid Dreams”- Juice WRLD ⤷ “Scars”- Lukas Graham

PART 1

Kirishima looked up at his calendar, a sad sigh escaping his lips. 

That number shouldn’t be such a big deal, that plain black “11” tiny and insignificant next to all the other digits, like little ants stationary on the page.

What it represented, though, was so much more: that day so many weeks ago was so full of heartache and misery, the feeling of being lied to eating at his core for days to come. 

Today, 3 months ago, was the day you confessed to him that you didn’t love him. 

Kirishima has never felt so betrayed and heartbroken in his whole life: you were his first real love after all, and hearing you say your love was a lie destroyed him.

He didn’t know what to do or how to even react to that news: he had felt so numb after, so incredibly empty, it was like he was a walking shell of himself once he left your room.

His friends had tried to cheer him up constantly, always putting in the effort to lift his spirits with laughter and comfort. But the warmth of their attempts of cheering him up didn’t help him at all: he always still felt so cold inside.

It also didn’t help that you had mysteriously left UA the day after the “breakup.” When Kirishima laid his tired puffy eyes on your empty desk the next day, his heart couldn’t help but beat feverishly. He knew he shouldn’t care that you were gone, but he couldn’t help it. No matter which way he spun it, He was still desperately falling for you, even if you had broken his heart. 

He had sat down, his back slumped as he eyed that empty seat with worry. 

How had everything gone so wrong? 

He couldn’t fathom what had gone stray-your love  had honestly felt so real to him. You had told him you had only dated him out of pity-but if somebody was being forced to do something, just to spare someone’s feelings, would they have given him his first kiss so perfectly, making sure to be soft and gentle? Would they have stuck with him late into the night to help study for tests? Or give him sweet kisses on his scars when he was feeling self conscious? 

It just didn’t add up-the feelings you two had were genuine and real. It couldn’t all be one sided like you had said.

He gave another look to that chair, just imagining the ghost of you sitting there, turning around and sending him that infectious smile that light up his whole day.

God, it wasn't even one whole day and he felt so incomplete without you.

Mr. Aizawa walked in, everyone scrambling to their seats and watching him intently, the room getting noticeably more quiet.

He didn’t remember much of that class-he had remembered Mr.Aizawa standing at the front of the class, his deep voice breaking his miserable thoughts when he said the class would be free of one student.

You had seemingly left in the middle of the night, your guardians notifying the school you would no longer be attending UA due to you moving. All of Class 1-A was incredibly confused, including Kirishima- you had never said you were moving, yet you somehow were just gone. As if you never existed.

It just didn’t add up to Kirishima-you would have said something about moving, or at least acted strange the weeks prior. All these events just didn’t make sense to Kirishima-the break up, your confession, you leaving-it all just didn’t add up. But he was too tired, too wrecked inside to think about it anymore. The more he tried to piece the story together the more it gnawed at him, making him feel so much more worse than he already felt. He slumped in his chair, knowing full well everyone was staring at him-you were his boyfriend after all, he should have known.

Oh wait-ex.

He slumped in his chair even more, barely the tips of his spiky red hair poking up from the desk table.

It was gonna be a long few weeks for him, he could already feel it.

Now he was past all those days of crying and breaking over you-some days he could actually forget about you and not have to worry. But on days that were permanently etched into his mind, like today, he couldn’t help but remember. 

Kirishima's phone began to ring, the vibration of the call making the phone jitter against the wood of his desk. He tore himself away from the calendar, his hands instantly swiping to take the call once he saw the Caller ID.

“Hey Fat, how's it going!” Kirishima forced a smile, his voice preppy and bright as if nothing had ever happened.

“Kirishima, thanks for taking the call,” his mentor seemed to breathe a sigh of relief hearing his bright voice on the other end.

Since Kirishima was in his 3rd year, he was required to do another work study, for an even longer period of time than before. So when he was asked by Fatgum to come join the agency once again, he couldn’t help but say no. He had loved his old mentor back from his 1st year, even if he did get pretty banged up at the end of his work study. He was more than happy to join his agency again, and wanted nothing more to learn and grow to be the best hero he could be.

“I know this is pretty late in the day for you,” Fatgum continued, “but I’m going to need your help,”

“Tamaki was supposed to be patrolling on the West side of town tonight, but he got called in to help with a robbery on the North side. I don’t have anybody else to take his place, so I was hoping you could take over his shift for the night,”

“Of course! I’ll do anything you need,” Kirishima propped his phone into the crook of his neck, already rummaging around his room for his hero suit.

“You're a lifesaver Kirishima!” Fatgum exclaimed, the toothy grin he was most likely sporting practically audible.“See ya for training tomorrow then!”

“You too, Fat,” Kirishima's cheerful tone waned, a sad smile replacing his bright grin as he stared down at his hero suit.

He had already known today was going to be a tough day for him, and the fact that he was off from any type of hero work that would make him forget about his sadness didn’t help. 

But now that Fatgum has given him a job tonight, he might be able to erase his mind of all the past heart ache for the next few hours. He gave himself a small smile, his hero suit beckoning him to put it on, the reds and blacks calling to him like ghosts from a dream.

He was gonna at least try to forget-just for the night.

It was now an hour before the end of his shift, and he was feeling practically tired.

The West side of town was relatively quiet, nowhere near the crime riddled areas of the North side of the city boulevard. He knew these streets well from patrolling them almost every night of his hero study, knowing each alleyway and path like the back of his hand. 

Tonight was silent, only a few late night joggers or the occasional fast food joint open for any customers getting the late night munchies. 

It was soft, provincial, and bitter sweet. 

He was trying his best to not remember, to not remember your face, or your smile, or the way you would laugh so warmly whenever he did something amusing. He was trying not to imagine you standing by his side, your hand grabbing his and your shoulder resting  on his, a happy sigh escaping your lips. 

Why were still haunting him, even three months later? 

why couldn’t he just forget about you? 

A crash and a yell snapped Kirishima out of his memory, an angry scream of a teen being heard from the late night restaurant. 

He shook his head to rid himself of those unwanted thoughts, noticing a black figure running across the parking lot into an alleyway at lightning speed.

“That-that Villian!” She shrieked, her friends trying to soothe her as she continued on her rampage, “She stole my wallet! My damn wallet! The hell-“

“Don’t worry ma’am, I’ll get it back for you, don’t worry!” He yelled towards the group, his voice warm and assuring as he sent her a toothy grin. His feet began pounding the pavement, disappearing into the alleyway in the direction of the criminal.

Your breath came out in painful huffs, your hand fumbling to put the wallet into the jacket of your Villian suit. 

Damn Shigaraki and his “plans.”

Shigaraki has now concocted up his next bright idea  for the League, this time relying on you stealing an ID card from a college student that looked similar to you. 

While the LOV was going off stealing a bank for some extra cash, you were told to go find someone who looked similar to you in order to pass as them. for what you had no idea, but you knew Shigaraki would be extremely mad with you if you didn’t do what he asked. You shivered at the thought of him, those cold red eyes like bloody daggers ripping into your flesh. 

You slowed to a stop, your breath coming out in pants as you pulled down the mask on your face, your breath finally free from the constricting fabric.

God you hated running.

Nobody seemed to be following you though, footsteps inaudible to your ears. You slinked into a dark corner of the alleyway, your hands rummaging inside the wallet for the ID card you desperately needed.

Cash, credit card, a picture of her and possibly her boyfriend,a shit ton of gift cards-

You breathed a sigh of relief, flicking out the desired card with a flourish. In the low light conditions you were in, it was hard to see her details, but you knew that it matched your complexion just enough to pass by.

Thank God, now Shigaraki wouldn’t be on your ass-

“Hey, it’s not cool to steal, man,” you heard a familiar voice echo throughout the concrete walls of the alleyway, making your blood run cold.

Shit, please not be him, anybody but him-

You instantly tugged your mask over your mouth and nose, praying to God it wasn’t him.

Maybe it was another hero, or somebody that just resembled him-

“Just give me back what you stole, and nothing bad will happen to ya,” Kirishima continued, his footsteps slow and solemn as he walked over to you, as if you were a wounded animal that could attack at any moment.

You shoved the wallet hastily into your jacket pocket, looking around, desperate for a way out.

Damn it-you were completely blocked from the back, a tall cement wall blocking your escape. The only way for you to get out was to somehow dodge Kirishima and make a run for it, or fight him.

God definitely had his favorites, and it obviously wasn’t you.

This boy was so quiet-all that hero training made him extremely agile, like a cat going forward it’s prey  as he continued to walk towards you cautiously. 

It was a shock to see him-he looked so much older, his handsome face making your heart squeeze painfully. He still sported his iconic red hair to match his suit, the only thing really changing was the amount of scars on his body. When you two had dated, you were so close to him you knew every valley, ditch, and scar on his body like your own.

He was getting stronger and tougher, growing to his goal while you were stuck in your life, still just a little pawn in Shigarakis decaying hands.

You didn’t feel like fighting him-you still felt guilty for the way you had ended things with him, even though it was weeks after. You knew it had to be done in order to protect him, but you also knew it had hurt him to the point of no return.

 He had to have hated you now, and honestly, you didn’t blame him-it just hurt to know you lost a love you still felt. And it was your fault.

Kirishima watched your every move, not suspecting a thing-you were just another thug, another puny Villain he had to take down. Even though it was decent fun to take a criminal down, dealing with witnesses, the police, and paperwork was quite the opposite. But it’d get his mind off of his own misery.

The Villain seemed strange though-as if they were terrified by the mere sight of him. They weren’t even trying to bad mouth him, which was a definite first for him. It was hard to see in the dark alleyway, but he could make out the outline of the thief trying to quickly dodge him, trying to break into a run to get out of the cramped dead end.

Kirishima swiftly grabbed the arm of their leather jacket, pulling your squirming body close to his.

You were screaming internally-he needed to let go, he had to let go. Your heart felt like it was ripping apart, the sudden memories flooding your body as you remembered how it felt to be so close to him, to be so intimate you could see the flecks of brown in his vermillion red eyes. You didn’t want him to realize it was you, to see you as his enemy yet again. You couldn’t bear to see the heartbreak and disappointment in his eyes, your hands clawing to get away.

“Hey-just calm down a little-“ he huffed out, the words separated as he tried to keep a hold on your body.

It was strange to him though-you weren’t even talking, not a peep was spilling out of your lips. You seemed pretty young, and by your smaller frame, you were most likely female. You seemed 

so scared, your eyes bright with desperation and fright. 

His larger hands kept you close to him, his heart pinging with hurt-

There was no way this was you. He was going crazy-those weren’t your eyes.

But God, they looked so familiar-your eyes looked exactly like that the day you two broke up. Full of fear and sadness and guilt-

This wasn’t you, this couldn’t be you, but-if it was-

With one hand firmly wrapped your waist and another shakily reaching toward your mask, your body fighting desperately to get him to stop. Even through your attempts, he pulled the material gently off your skin, The flimsy black mask falling to the ground pitifully. your face looking down at the ground with embarrassment, now knowing your cover was blown.

Kirishima's heart beat painfully-it was you, this was you.

What had happened?

“Y-y/n?” He stuttered out, his voice caught pitifully in his throat.

You swallowed thickly, trying to shove the dry ball of embarrassment down your throat.

“H-hi Kiri,” 

He quickly let go of you, his body blocking your exit as he stared at you in disbelief.

You looked so different, so unlike you-you were wearing a completely black outfit, the material shiny like wet rocks near a dark river. Your hair was pulled back painfully tight, your eyes looking down at your scuffed combat boots in despair.

You looked so defeated and so sad, as if there was no happiness left in your body.

Who even were you?

“What happened to you? Why are stealing? Where have you even been?” He bombarded you with questions, his voice getting more and more authoritative and desperate as questions flooded his mind.

You couldn’t even think to comprehend an answer to any of them-you just needed to forget this encounter ever happened. For your and Kirishima’s sanity and, most importantly, safety.

“Just let me go Kirishima,” you dodged his question, taking a step forward to push your way out of the alleyway.

Kirishima's body was bigger and stronger though, and with each shuffle you attempted he would close the gap between you two, blocking your escape solely with his body.

“No, I-I need answers y/n,” he replied. His voice sounded so hurt, so full of anguished you felt your heart break a little more. He was still hurting, and now he was confused, seeing you all dressed up and committing crimes like a low level Villian. 

“I need to know what happened to you.”

You faulted in your step, staring at Kirishima with wide, mournful eyes. You made yet another attempt to surpass him, your shoulder a mere centimeters away from his as you tried to walk past him.

“Nothing happened Kirishima, please just let me-“

If you thought you were going to leave that easily, you were crazy. 

He swiftly grabbed your arm, his calloused hands rough against the leather of your jacket. Even through the thick material you could feel how warm he was-he always radiated such heat and brightness.

“Why did you leave UA?” He was abrupt with his question, but the hint of softness faltered his harsh exterior-he was still worried for you.

A deep sigh cascaded from your lips, your brow starting to sweat. You were tired of dealing with this heavy burden, this spider web of lies you had created for your own self. You still loved Kiri, yes, but your relationship was over and done. There was really no fear of judgement anymore. Hell, he just saw you steal a wallet like a low level thug-how much more could he judge you in this moment?

“You want the truth Kiri?” Your voice was blunt, and monotone, a shield from your true emotions. 

“You want to know who I really am? I-I’m a Villian. I work for the LOV. I only went to UA because I had to listen to Shigaraki. He needed info and I was the only one to do it.”

You sneaked a peek at Kirishima's face, a slight grimace on your lips as you anticipated the look of disgust on his face. Your heart thumped painfully, waiting for him to look at you with revulsion, but-it never came. His bright vermillion eyes still stared down at you softly, his eyes coated with worry and sympathy. 

“So-you were being forced?”

“At first I wanted to do it-b-but after I while, I started to change my mind,” 

he was so warm, his body heat seeping into your cold skin like a fire on a winter's night. Even now, in this dark alley, exactly 3 months from your terrible breakup-he still could make you feel safe. He was your home in the snow storm, so warm and comforting when the rest of the world was so unforgiving and icy. You relished the feeling of his calloused palms on your body, wishing those hands were on your skin instead of your jacket so they could  slowly  warm your whole body with their wonderful  heat.

“Then why did you leave?”

You gulped, licking your lips tentatively. Did you really want to tell him the truth? Tell him how weak you truly were? You honestly didn’t, a part of you screaming to just feed him a lie that would satiate you both-but the thought of living with even more of a guilty conscience made your mouth go dry. He didn't deserve another lie-after all you did to him, Kirishima deserved the truth. 

“I-I didn’t want to get hurt. I didn’t want you to get hurt. If Shigaraki found out I was considering leaving the LOV, he would have done anything in his power to keep me.”

“You don’t know the League like I do. When I mean he would do anything-he would do anything-including killing.”

Kirishima's eyes momentarily widened, the brutal words cutting the air like a knife. It didn’t surprise him, though-he was a hero in training after all. He had been in too many dangerous run ins with villians-hell, he couldn’t even count how many times he could have died just in his first year at UA. Death was a recurring threat in Kirishima's life, and , for better or worse, it didn’t scare him as much as it used to.

“Kiri-I-I lied to you to keep you safe. You meant the world to me-You still do. I still think about you all the time, and I know you probably hate me, but I still love you. I never stopped.”

He watched your eyes turn down in shame, your head hanging low as if you were carrying a great burden. It was painstakingly obvious you were feeling guilty and remorseful, and his heart throbbed at the thought that of you being forced to continue on with this life. We all made dumb mistakes when we were younger-you shouldn’t have to keep the burden of your past decisions still. 

As much as he felt sympathy for you, he couldn't help but feel so happy that you still had feelings for him. No matter how he spun it, he still cared for you and loved you with all his heart-hearing The same thoughts come from you just made him fall for you even more.

He gingerly took your chin in his hands, his calloused digits lifting your sullen head in order for him to look at you fully. Even when you looked so downtrodden, you were absolutely beautiful to him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“God, take the words right out of mouth, huh?”

Kirishima's heartbeat feverishly in his chest-what he was about to do was so incredibly risky, but he had to do it. Too many nights he spent dreaming and remembering you, the memories bitter sweet. Now that he had you in front of him, he was going to take any chance he could go get those sensations back in his life.

Kirishima placed his lips gently on yours, knocking the wind out of your lungs. You couldn’t breathe-it was like you were drowning on his essence-yet you couldn’t careless. Warmth filled your stomach, fueling all over your body like a hot flame. It was so comforting and surreal to be feeling this again, to have Kirishima's hot lips pressed against yours.

He parted from you, both of you buzzing with electricity. It was surprising how much truth that kiss held-it melted the cocoon you two had around your hearts, allowing you two to see how much you had truly missed each other.

“ Y/n, I miss you, I knew that night you said you didn’t love me, something wasn’t right,” he spoke, his breath fanning your lips gently. “I knew there was more than what you were letting on.”

Kirishima grabbed your arms suddenly, looking you square in the face with intense eyes.

“ Y/n, you should have left then and there! We would have protected you! I would have protected! I promise I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you-“

“Y/n, you need to leave them, please,”

You sighed, hating how quickly the air thickened with the remembrance of your current situation. 

“Kiri, I don’t want anybody to potentially get hurt because of my dumbass decisions, I’m fine, I can handle myself-“

“Y/n, no your not fine! Look at you-,”he motioned to your clothing and your sullen face, “this isn’t you at all! 

“Kiri, please, don’t give me false hope-“ you shoved him off, wrapping your arms around your body to protect yourself. If you didn’t get control of yourself, you would follow his words in a heartbeat. As much as you would love to run into the strong arms of Kirishima, for him to warm your numb body with his positive energy- you knew it was dangerous. You didn’t want anybody to get hurt over you.

“It isn’t false hope though….” He smiled sweetly at you, his hand stretched out to you, “please, just take my hand, Kay? Nothing bad will happen, I promise,”

You stared at him long and hard, your eyes wide with fear and uncertainty-he was so genuine, so warm, so forgiving. He wanted to help you, he was willing and ready. He wanted to fight the world with you by his side, to protect the people he needed to protect with his loving energy. Kirishima had a way of making you believe anything that came out of his mouth, and you were falling for his spell. You didn’t know if it was the shock from seeing him after so long, his kiss, or just from wanting to leave so badly, but you stretched out your hand, ready for him to take you away.

a cruel, scraggly voice boomed from the shadows, “He promises to keep his little love bird safe.”

“How touching.”

You two spun your heads around at the sound of the ominous voice, your blood running cold.

“Shigaraki,” you gasped out, your eyes glued onto your leader. 

He was smiling a sick grin, his expression sadistic and cruel as he stood in a few paces away from you two. He was clothed in his Villain suit, his clothes tattered and dark like the Grim Reaper himself.

 Spinner and Twice were standing close by, surveying the scene from above as Shigaraki sauntered to you two. Kirishima's expression instantly turned from softness to determination, his body instantly turning to shield yours.

“Oh no need to act so heroic hero,” he grinned, his tone sickeningly sweet life cough syrup.

“Just give us our comrade and we’ll be on our way.”

“You're not going anywhere with her!” Kirishima yelled, his quirk activating in his arm as he shielded you from Shigaraki. “She doesn’t want to be with you scumbags anymore!”

“I’d watch your tone if I were you, especially for trying to defend a spineless traitor like her.”

Kirishima's face turned red in anger, his whole body now turning as solid as a rock as he charged your former leader.

“You piece of-“ 

Shigaraki continued the sick grin plastered on his face as Spinner and Twice instantly jumped from their positions, grabbing Kirishima's arms and roughly slamming him into the nearby wall. You heard the air forces out of Kirishima's lungs, his face contorted in pain. Your heart felt as if it was getting stabbed as you watched Kirishima struggle against their holds.

“Kirishima!” You screamed, your body yelling at you to help him-but you knew you couldn’t take on those two by yourself, not even including Shigaraki.

You turned to the villainous man in front of you, your eyes pleading.

“Shigaraki, please, tell them to let him go-let him go!”

He took a step toward you, his footsteps ringing slowly like the ticks of an old clock.

“Oh, I will,” he replied, his voice low and sadistic, “-when you rejoin the League.

“ I’d kill you right now for being such a selfish brat if I didn’t need you-so take it as a gift. I’ll spare your life if you just come-“

“Never,” you spat at him, fear filling your stomach with your defiance. You were surprised to hear how steady your voice was, but the slight Tremble in your fists said otherwise.

“Fine then,” he smirked, “suit yourself-“

With a wave of his decaying hands, Spinner and Twice began to use their full force on Kirishima-punching, kicking, anything to torture him. He was trying his best to block them, even with his quirk-but they were quite strong, especially once Twice used his quirk to produce more of his own body. It quickly began evident that Kirishima was having a hard time to fight off the villains, his Stance slowly becoming weaker and weaker as his face began to bruise and his arm dusted with his own blood.

You were hopeless to just watch, watching your worst fear come to life-people we’re already getting hurt over you.

Anger filled your stomach, licking up your body like hot flames as you turned to charge Shigaraki, fire in your eyes.

“Stop it you crusty ass-“ you yelled out, your fists out as you tried to land a punch on the Villian.

He seemed to know your exact movements though, his hands harshly grabbing your wrists and mouth, colliding your body with his.

“I’d watch that mouth of yours if I were you, unless you want it to disintegrate-along with the rest of you-“

Shit.

You had momentarily forgotten about Shigaraki’s dangerous quirk-one wrong move and you could be a heap on the ground, nothing more. The fingers around your mouth were delicate, knowing full well you wouldn’t try and escape. They drummed playfully against your mouth, as if taunting you to do something foolish. You felt how cold he was, the feeling of his chapped skin on yours disgusting as he toyed with your life in his hands. 

It was all a game for him-and he was winning.

“Look at him-“ Shigaraki ordered, the grip around your mouth suddenly tightening as he twisted your head to face Kirishima's misery.  

“You caused this, y/n. All this pain, all this suffering. If you leave, he will be the first we target. Well slowly go after each and every person you have ever loved, until we finally come for you.”

“Now, you don’t want that, do you?”  He asked, his face tilting in order to see your answer. You forced yourself to not look at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing the small tears running down your cheeks. 

All you could muster was a small shake of your head, the vibration of your movement going through Shigarakis finger tips.

Through the fists and clones he was trying to fight off, Kirishima could see you shaking your head, Shigaraki looking practically happy by your answer. A sinking feeling filled Kirishima's stomach as he saw your body language slouch in defeat. He Tried to call at you, to stop you from agreeing to whatever was coming out of Shigarakis lying lips, but at that moment one of the clones landed a solid punch to his stomach. Kirishima felt all the air leave out of his lungs , his knees wobbling and hitting the floor as his head spun from the pain.

Shigaraki still had his hold on you, watching how your face crumpled as you watched Kirishima fall and unable to help.

“Good, now, will you come and rejoin?” He asked one last time, motioning for his comrades to move away from Kirishima and back to their spot on the roof of the alleyway.

He knew now he had you under his finger, knowing the show he had just made you watched instilled enough fear for you to never leave his team again. He watched your eyes cower to give one last look at Kirishima's crumpled body, your shoulders tense with stress.

“I-I’ll rejoin the League,” you whispered out, feeling the hold Shigaraki had on you loosen. 

It was tearing you up inside to see Kirishima so bruised and hurt on the ground-you focused on the signs of him breathing, his broad chest rising and falling as he struggled to push himself back up. That small evidence gave you courage, your heart racing as you will yourself to continue with the plan you had secretly been concocting this whole time.

You grunted, a sly smirk erupting on your face.

“After I do this-“

You swiftly grabbed Shigarakis arm, twisting it in an excruciating position behind his back. He yelled out in pain, a string of curses filling the night as you rammed your fist into his chest, sending the air out of his lungs. He stumbled dramatically, dry coughs spewing out of his lungs as his knees hit the floor. 

“You no longer have power over me-none of you do,” you stood defiantly in that alleyway, watching your ex comrades stare at you in shock and awe. In all your time with the LOV, you had never defied them. Not once. You were always so obedient, which was why Shigaraki loved to have you around as a n asset to his team-you were so easy to keep around his finger. 

But now you were clearly being rebellious, your stony face telling the whole group you had changed-you didn’t give a damn about their threats and their rules anymore. You wouldn’t be coming back.

A burst of fear and extreme annoyance flooded Shigarakis' system, the pain of your kick aiding fuel to the flame. He growled, a curse directed at you dribbling from his lips as his thin legs wobbled his body weight up. His mouth opened to send you another string of curses, ready to unleash his full wrath on you for embarrassing him so much, until a characteristic siren filled the night air.

Kirishima propped himself onto his knees, a tried grin gracing his bruising lips.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you-“

His hand lifted, showing the whole group a small contraption in his hand. In the darkness of the alleyway it was hard to tell what it was, but it seemed Kirishima was holding a phone, a route to your location lighting up the screen.

“My mentor gave all us heroes-in-training a tracker, just in case we get into any trouble. While you were blabbering on about plans, I sent the heroes our location.”

Kirishima smiled triumphantly at the fearful faces of Shigaraki’s comrades, Shigarakis own fave contorted in rage. 

The sirens were slowly getting louder, the colors of blue and red dancing lightly against the stony walls of the alley way.

“So unless you wanna get caught by the heroes,” he added in, his tone surprisingly friendly, “ I suggest you go.”

Shigaraki seemed waver, trying to see if he could still get you back under the terrible circumstances. But the cops were practically here, the sounds of car doors slamming being heard. He had to admit it to himself-he lost this battle. He gave you one last scornful look, his bloody irises sending a shiver down your spine as he took off with his comrades, not leaving a trace.

You could already hear the police officers stepping out of their cars, fear flooding your stomach. Even though you had just defied the League, you were still a criminal. You had been doing illegal activities for months now-hell, you just stole a girls wallet 15 minutes ago and it was still in your damn pocket.

Even though a part of you was screaming for you to run as well, you fought off that flight response in order to help Kirishima off the floor.

His skin still feels warm, your hands making sure not to touch the tender parts of his skin from his fight. Even though he was smiling, you could tell he was in some pain. Your worst fear was already being realized-he got hurt over you. For you. You could never repay him for that, the guilt seeping into your core. 

“Kiri are you okay? Please tell me you are,” you pushed out, the tone of your voice desperate and pleading. “I’m so sorry-“

Kirishima looked up, his vermillion eyes as bright as ever as he caresses your cheek, sweeping the single tear off your face.

 “For what? You did nothing wrong y/n, you don’t have to be so sad over me-this is my job after all!” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood as you began to help him stand up. He was slightly wobbly on his feet but seemed to be doing just fine. 

He gave you a small smile, a hint of worry in his eyes as he heard footsteps coming behind him.

“Just-let me do the talking, Kay?” He waited for you to give him a nod, his hands giving yours a gentle squeeze.

“Do you still have the wallet you stole?”

“The-? Oh, yeah, I do,” you stated quickly, the wallet resurfacing in your mind as you rummaged in your jacket, pulling it out and shoving it into his hand.

“Thanks,” he smiled at you, his cheeks warm as he faltered for the smallest second. 

It was evident he wanted to lean in and kiss you-the way he stared at your lips was quite evident and brought a blush to your cheeks. 

But Kirishima was still on duty, and couldn’t be so openly romantic when he was in his hero suit as well being approached by law enforcement. He instead opted to kiss your cheek, the smooth skin of his lips warming your whole body as he walked over to greet the police officer. 

Kirishima has spoke to the police officer for quite a while, a few others watching close behind as they surveyed you. You felt strange, standing there so alone as you watched Kirishima talk to the officer so warmly. 

You didn’t know what he was saying, or what he was doing, but you were hoping he was somehow sweet talking the officers. You watched him point to you at one point, his warm smile assuring your terrified face as the officer looked you up and down tentatively.

He motioned you to come over, as if trying to get a frightened animal to come near him. You followed his command, your steps hesitant as you approached the two men.

The officer face was hardened until he saw the look of terror on your face, his expression softening slightly.

“This is her?” He asked gruffly, turning to Kirishima.

“Yes,” he nodded his head in confirmation. “The LOV have been brainwashing her for their plans-she has intel the heroes could use to our advantage. Fat Gum’s agency needs her straight away in order to get that info from her. I promise we will get her in the system and any other information you may need on file.”

The officer gave you two a long look, sighing as he scratched his chin.

“Alright,” he complied, a huge smile erupting on Kirishimas face. “You two need a ride? You look pretty messed up.”

Kirishima gave a small chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “Uh-yeah, THAT'D be pretty nice actually-“

After the small car ride to Fat Gum’s agency, you had helped Kirishima out of the car and to Fat Gum’s office at the top floor. It seemed like someone had already alerted Fat Gum to Kirishima's arrival, because you two were instantly met by the pro hero with worried eyes once you reached his office.

“God Kirishima you had me so worried for a second!” He yelled, striding over to the bruised hero, “that receptionist really made it sound like you were in need of medical attention or something-“

“I’m fine Fat, you don’t gotta worry about me!” Kirishima said good naturedly, his perfect teeth glistening in the fluorescent lights. “I actually have some things I need your help with-“

“You definitely do if you're bringing a civilian into the office,” FatGum stared down at you with a warm smile, your heart beating guiltily. It was strange to see the hero in normal clothing in not in his larger form, his stature so much smaller it seemed from his usually large frame.

“The names Fat, but you can call me Taishiro!” He held out his hand in front of you, his bright personality radiating off of him, “and you are-“

“I-I’m y/n, sir,” you said hesitantly, taking your smaller hand in his. He was just as warm as Kirishima, like a bright ball of sun. 

No wonder Kirishima interned with Fatgum-he was just like him. Bright, fun, kind. Everything you so dearly craved for in your life, but couldn't quite grasp.

“I’m sorry, I’m not a civilian-I’m a criminal, a Villian,” you muttered sadly, your head hanging low, “well, I was-“

Fat Gum gave Kirishima a confused look, his happy exterior dropping slightly. 

“She was being forced to be a Villain by Shigaraki,” Kirishima quickly stepped forward, his tone serious as he defended you. “She wanted to leave the LOV, but they were threatening her.

“She didn’t do anything wrong-she just wanted to protect herself and the people around her.”

Fat Gum scratched the side of his cheek, his eyes lost in thought.

“Well Thats a strange situation to be in-I’m assuming you two know each other?”

You looked at Kirishima, red blossoming your cheeks just like his. 

Maybe it wasn’t the best time to tell his mentor that you had dramatically broke up with Kirishima over 3 months ago.

“We uh-“ Kirishima started, his voice wavering in uncertainty.

“We were classmates,” you chided in quickly, “I went to UA along with Kirishima, but the LOV forced me to leave the school.”

Fat Gum nodded his head, a sigh escaping his lips. “So-you’ve been working as a Villain, but against your will?”

You nodded your head, your breath caught in your throat as you awaited for the hero's reaction to this news of your true identity.

“This will get a little fuzzy legal wise, especially if people are looking for you-some may not trust what you say, even if you left the League and do everything in your power to change their minds.”

“Don’t worry though, I believe you,” the hero placed his hand in your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I believe Red Riot full heartedly in his perception of others and I’m pretty good at reading people too. I can tell youre not what the League tried to make you into.”

He sent you a warm grin, making you feel safe for what had felt like a long time.

“Would you be willing to answer questions about the League? about how they operate, how large they are, their plans-“

“Yes, anything to end them and help the heroes,” you answered quickly, your tone set in determination, “I’d be willing to do all of it.”

“Well that settles it!” Fat Gum said happily, the smile back on his face. “Tomorrow we’ll start talking to you about your experience with the League-but you two seem to need a well deserved nap.”

“Why don’t you keep her in your apartment Kirishima?” FatGum turned to the hero, Kirishimas dusted in pink by the proposition. “Shell feel

a little more comfortable since you're someone she knows, and she’s also close to the agency.”

Fat Gum gave you a soft smile, his eyes filled with reassurance. “Heroes will be around all day and all night, so nobody can come in and out.”

It surprised you how intuitive the hero was-he knew exactly how you were feeling. 

Even though you knew it was foolish, you still felt that somehow the League would find you and try to bring you back. You had clearly defied them, and it scared you that they be trying to get their revenge. 

But Fatgums charming smile was so reassuring and welcoming, you couldn’t give him a small smile back.

“I think I can manage that arrangement.”

“Good then,” he gave you two one last smile, ushering you two out the door, “make sure to get some rest-tomorrow will definitely be a long day. Make sure those injuries are doing well too, alright?”

You both gave the hero a curt response, turning your backs from the now closed doors.

Kirishima's heart began to beat intensely, his stomach filling with butterflies.

You had agreed to stay in his room? God, if someone had told him a few hours ago you’d be staying the night with him, he’d wouldn’t believe it for a second. But now this was happening, and he couldn’t be more ecstatic or nervous.

He stared at your profile, not missing the dusting of red on your cheeks-you were nervous too? It made him feel a little better inside, a small smile gracing his lips as he stretched out his hand.

“You ready?”

You looked down at the outstretched sha s in front of you, taking his palm in yours tentatively.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” 

He lead you through the agency, taking an elevator a few levels down in order to get to the apartments specifically for the heroes in training.

It was a short trip, but the fatigue that wa a beginning to hit your body was making it feel so much longer. The adrenaline rush you had felt all night was wearing off, your eyes fluttering as you will yourself to stay awake.

Kirishima noticed your sleepy state, a small chuckle escaping from his chest.

“You feeling tired?”

“Just-a little,” you yawned out, wrapping your hands around your body.

“Don’t worry-were almost at my place,” he gave you a sweet smile, his hands outstretched for yours as the elevator door opened. You took it gratefully, letting him lead you to his door as he opened it with ease.

You stepped inside, adjusting from the darkness as you took in the sight in front of you.

The room smelled of him-the warm and musky scent ofhis cologne lingering in the air. It was almost teasing you with its memories, a wave of comfort washing over you as you recalled all the times you buried your nose into his neck and smelled his scent. 

His room was pretty neat, surprisingly, his desk organized and his walls decorated with a few posters. You recognized some from his old room at UA-a Crimson Riot, his favorite band, and even a calendar he used to use frequently.

Some areas of his room signaled the busy life of his work stidy, his unmade bed strewn with clothing he had hastily ripped off, a small pile of clothes in a pile and his laptop charging in a corner of the room.

Kirishima cursed himself as he looked around the room, painstakingly noticing every little detail and mess, hating how he hadn’t cleaned up his room that day.

“Sorry for the mess, I didn’t expect to have anyone,” he chuckled nervously, already going around and picking up his things.

“It’s fine-I like it,” 

You were speaking the truth when you said it-you liked how it was so him, showing a glimpse into his daily life. It was warm and comforting, even residential, to see him in his day to day life.

“You do?”

You hummed a “yes”, feeling your heart beat fast when Kirishima closed the gap between you two, his palms gently grasping your arms. He breathed in a deep sigh, holding you close.

“God, you don’t know how much I missed you,” he sighed out breathlessly.

“I missed you too Kiri,” you looked down, old guilt resurfacing inside you, “I’m still sorry for being so-so mean to you-I should have just told you the truth, I shouldn't have lied-“

Kirishima smiled softly, lifting your chin with his finger.

“Don’t worry about that! That was in the past-now it’s just you and me, kay? You don’t have to worry about any of that, now”

He gave you a long look, sorry buried in his brows as you ran his fingers along your skin, feeling the bags under your eyes. You inhaled a deep breath, loving the electricity Kirishima set into your skin just from his touch.

“You really are tired, huh?” He asked quietly, his voice husky from exhaustion himself.

“And you're not?” You gave him a quirky smile, making him blush with a chuckle.

“Well, I didn’t say that,” he gave you a small grin, his hands returning back to their spots on your arms.

“Do you wanna sleep? You can take the bed if you want-I know it’s not made, but I can sleep on the couch if you’d like-“

“I want to sleep with you,” you replied softly, your eyes widening once you realized what you had just said.

You wanted to sleep with him? God, you sounded so perverted! 

“I-I mean I want to go to bed with you-I didnt mean-I just didn’t want to make you sleep somewhere else, since this your room-“

Kirishima's face was incredibly red, but the smile was still plastered on his face.

“Oh it’s alright, I really don’t mind either way.“

He pulled himself away from you gently, as he began searching through his dresser for some clothes.

“So-bed together?”

“Yup!” You replied back, popping the p as You sat on the unmade bed, your fingers dragging against the plus fabric as Kirishima turned around, sitting in front of you as he handed you one of his shirts.

“I know you don’t have any pajamas, so you can wear one of my shirts until we get you some clothes.”

“Mm, sounds good,” you smiled tenderly, loving how close he was as you ran your hands through his hair.

He sighed into your touch as he nuzzled into your skin, his breath warm against your skin.

He sat there for a few moments, finally rising sluggish and slow.

“Gotta move-or I’ll fall asleep right there,” he chuckled, walking over to the front of his closet. He began to take off the pieces of his hero suit, the large gears on his arms hitting the floor with a thud.

You admired how broad his shoulders were, the way his muscles rippled so evidently as he moved his bones to his will. He was so perfectly built, you could t help but drool at the firmness of his skin.

“Having fun over there?,” he turned around, a shit eating grin plastered on his face as he undid the belt around his waist.

“Just a little,” you gave him a small grin, hear flooding your face as you held the shirt close to your chest.

“You can go change in the bathroom if you’d like-you don’t have to stay out here if you’re not comfortable,” 

“And what if I am?” 

You laughed at the clearly evident blush on his cheeks, his face trying to hide the rush of embarrassment.

“Your a handful,” he chuckled, his hand running through his hair nervously.

He knew you were joking, and you two had only sorta, maybe gotten back together lass than an hour ago-but damn if he wasn’t nervous and excited by you being so flirtatious-in his room. 

For the rest of the night. 

You gave him one last smile before you disappeared into the bathroom, your hands closing the door gently.

God, it felt so nice to be in his arms again, to feel safe and warm. You had missed the fluttering feeling Kirishima gave you, like you could fly away  at any moment and you could care less. You brought your nose to the cloth of the worn shirt, the powerful smell of his detergent and cologne washing over you. It was so comforting, a nostalgic feeling filling your body as you remembered how much you missed his scent. 

You quickly stripped of your clothes, happy to be free of the uncomfortable garments finally. Since Kirishima didn’t hand you any shorts to wear, you decided to only wear the shirt he had given you over your underwear. The softness of the shirt felt so relaxing against your tired skin, almost like getting a hug from the boy himself. You smiled a deep sigh, happy to see that the shirt was long enough to at least cover your underwear from plan view and you splashed your face with some cold water, rinsing away all the fears from tonight.

You would have a long day tomorrow answering questions about the League-you could at least give yourself tonight to forget and be worry free.

Kirishima was hastily changing before you came out of the bathroom, dreading the idea of you seeing him half naked as he swapped out of his hero suit. He opted to wear something comfortable, grey sweatpants and an old black tshirt, his body running frantically to clean his room. Now that he got the chance to properly clean his room, he was a mad man trying to make it to his liking. He shoved clothes into his closet, made his bed, even hiding cords under his bed. 

If you were going to be in his room, he was at least going to give off some impression of him being neat.

He was now laying on his newly made bed, his hands occupied with checking his phone as he heard the bathroom door opening, your footsteps soft on the carpet of his room.

He looked up, a question about to fall from his lips until his mind went completely blank at the sight of you.

There you were, standing in his room, looking as beautiful as ever wearing his shirt and nothing else. He couldn't help but stare at your legs, worshipping the curves as his mouth was agape from awe.

He didn’t fully prepare himself at the sight of you in his clothes, but god did you wear them so perfectly-

“You okay Kiri?” You gave a nervous laugh, striding over to the bed, settling your knees on the plush comforter.

The shirt road up from the movement t, showing more of those pretty thighs of yours that made him practically drool.

“Ne-never been better!” He tried to compose himself, his voice rising slightly.

God, he needed to get ahold of himself.

“You look pretty comfy,” he gave a small comment on your outfit, loving how bashful you look at the comment.

“Of course I am,” you replied back, crawling over to his side of the bed. He gulped at the sight of you coming so close to him, “I’m in your clothes after all.”

You sat your body next to Kirishima, your hand finding his as your other lightly rested on his stomach. 

“You know, I’ve always thought you looked good in anything,” he smiled, his eyes dark like wine, “but you wearing my clothes-you looked best in that,” 

“Really?” You gave the boy a shit eating grin, knowing full well you were playing a dangerous game now.

This night could end in two different scenarios: one could complicate things, and one could really complicate things.

You’d take the latter, if he was willing.

You shifted your body around him, straddling his waist as his shirt rode up, exposing your thighs even more.

“And what about when they're not on?”

Kirishima's heart beat at an insane pace in his chest-was this wrong to do? He didn’t know and frankly, he didn’t care at that moment.

He returned the smile, his hands traveling underneath the soft shirt.

“Even better.”

Tagging (anyone who commented or asked for a part 2- I tried to get everyone!):

@cellotonin​ @bakugous-forehead​ @lgbtonystarks​ @marrypuffsstuff​ @lady-bakuhoe​ @kurinhimenezu​ @hipster-merchant-of-death​ @hot-pocket01​ @bubblegum-bee-otch​ @kai-charm​

[ecbenvolio]

Antique (Affectionate)

“This is all junk,” says the man I presume to be Lev of Lev’s Pawnshop and Antiques, a man who buys junk for a living.

My heart drops.

I’d rounded up my most prized possessions in hope of collecting enough money to make the month’s rent. This was my last resort.

....

GiGi was a bitter old soul, but I loved her I guess. A trained concert pianist, she lost a good deal of her hearing in the war. I was never sure which war. Or how she ended up in a torn-down rural town like this one, produced my mother and uncle before becoming a thrice-divorced widow.

When I was young, she took care of me while Mother worked the night shift. We watched game shows on a fuzzy screened television and she fed me microwave meals. I would complain that they were cold in the middle and she would throw her hands up in frustration.

“These are not the hands of a cook,” she would tell me and I would silently agree.

GiGi tried her best to teach me piano, but with her hearing the way it was it was a difficult task. And she was not Beethoven. After several frustrating attempts, she would push me off the bench and begin to play her old favorites from memory: Mozart, Debussy, Elton John.

At this point, it would be late at night and the neighbors in the apartment would bang on the walls in protest.

“GiGi,” I’d yell “Quiet!”

But I think she took that as a challenge because she would play louder and louder. I learned to fall asleep with my head in her lap and Clair de Lune ringing in my ears.

Then one day, GiGi fell and everything I knew started to crumble. Mother and Uncle decided they didn’t have time to take care of GiGi and put her in a senior home. Senior homes are expensive, I guess because they sold the piano to make it cover the cost.

That was the first time, I’d seen GiGi cry—after she tried to strangle my uncle.

....

“So here’s the deal,” Lev says, “I’ll give you 10 for the TV and 15 for the microwave. Everything else is worthless. But I can take it off your hands for a disposal fee of 25.”

I decided I did not like Lev of Lev’s Pawnshop.

“I’m not a fool,” I say “That leaves me with nothing”

“It’s the best I can offer you” he leans on the counter.

My hands tighten around my bag, and I feel the shape of my tur last resort beneath the fabric. I look at Lev, if that even is his real name, and wonder if he really robs people for a living or if I just look that vulnerable, that lost.

I sigh. “You’re sign says you also buy antiques. Well, I have an antique.”

I pull the item from my bag and Lev’s eyebrows rise.

A music box.

It’s an intricately designed piece of art, not a box in form but more of a stout cylinder. On the outer layer are carved stars and moons encased in their own frames. The top is designed with a golden model of the summer starscape. The inside is layered with the mold of an angel. In the bottom piece, another metal figure of an angel stands straight in the center, its head tilted toward the heavens.

I wind up the lever on the back of the music box and let go. There’s a slight pause, then the notes of Clair de Lune fill the shop.

The shopowner’s dull eyes light up and he snatches the music box from my hands. He pulls the pair of glasses that were sitting on the top of his head down to set on the end of his nose. Unlike the previous items, he handles the music box with care.

“Now this,” he says, “This is beautiful. Don’t tell me—you found it at an estate sale? Another pawnshop?”

“It’s none of your business where I got this from” I cross my arms and tilt my head, “You seem pretty interested.”

“What can I say? It’s a decent piece of junk,” says the man that sells junk for a living. “Pre-war, ya’know?”

I want to ask which war but that question would really steer things out of my favor. Don’t want to sound young and unknowledgeable.

“It belonged to a concert pianist.” I explain “She played in grand performance halls in the city. Until one day, during a concert, they were bombed.”

Lev scoffs, “Who plays a concert in the middle of a war?”

“Who attacks civilians in the middle of a peaceful gathering?”

“Ah. So it was that war.”

...

“It was absolute chaos,” GiGi tells me as I sit at the foot of her bed in the senior home. I’ve heard her account of the bombing of the Grand Hall dozens of times. I could recite it by heart. It doesn’t get less distressing. Yet it’s the only story she tells these days.

“I barely made it out alive. But I did. And you the song I was in the middle of playing was—”

The nurse aide knocks on the door, interrupting to bring GiGi’s lunch. Which means I’m about to get lunch. It’s a silent arrangement between GiGi and me. The home staff thinks that she only eats when I visit. But truthfully, I choke down the bland sandwich and mushy vegetables and leave her to drink her tea and eat cake in peace.

“I lived on less during the war,” GiGi would complain loudly.

(“If she doesn’t start eating better, we’ll have to set up a feeding tube,” They told the family. Mother shrugged “Do what you have to do.”)

When the nurse aide returns, GiGi is nibbling on her cake and receives exaggerated praises for how well she’s eating.

We share a look.

She’s frail. That’s a fact. Somedays, I wonder if I’m no better than my mother and uncle in how I treat her. But every time, before I leave, GiGi takes my arm, looks into my eyes, and says “You are my heart. Don’t forget that.”

And that’s how I know I’m doing something right.

...

“Great story,” Lev says, “Your execution could use some work, but I’ll tell you what: forget the microwave and the tv. I’ll give you 75 for the music box. Cash.”

Oh. Well. Seventy-five is exactly what I needed to make rent. It was just what I needed except—

“That’s a pre-war family heirloom. Two hundred.”

Lev laughs. We don’t do negotiations here, but I’ll humor you: 85.”

“One hundred seventy-five.”

“Ninety.”

“One sixty.”

“Eighty-five.”

“You’re going in the wrong direction!”

“Tell me who you stole this music box from and I’ll give you 150. Cash. Best offer.”

“I didn’t steal this,” I huff, “It’s mine.”

Lev isn’t convinced. “Take the offer and I’ll tell you where music boxes like this come from.”

“I don’t need you to tell me. It’s from my GiGi.”

“Your...GiGi…?”

I throw my hands up, “My grandmother!”

Lev’s face morphs into a sneer, “Now I know you’ve been lying. Take the offer or get out of my shop. We’re closing soon.”

He sets the music box in the middle of the counter with a resolute thud.

There’s a moment where I think about it. I consider taking the offer. But I shake my head. No. No.

I snatch up the music box, shove it in my bag and go, leaving the rest of the items that I’d brought to sell.

“Goodbye, Lev, if that’s even your real name.”

....

“Are you happy?” GiGi asks me.

She’s staring out the window of her room at the senior home, absently stirring her tea. At first, I wasn’t sure I’d heard her. It’s odd. Normally, GiGi is very loud. It was as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to my question.

I fidget from my spot at the foot of her bed. “I’m...ok,” I answer. Because why would I burden her with my problems? I’m not the one whose children forced them into a home and sold away my most prized possession.

“Ok?” she spits back. “I don’t know what that means. OK. I asked: are. you. Happy?”

I look away. “Are you happy, GiGi?”

She laughs. It’s a deep sound, full of sarcasm.

“Your GiGi is as happy as she’ll ever be these days.”

“Well, then so am I,” I answer finally.

“That’s no good!” She sets down her tea, then grabs her walker and moves to stand. I tell her to sit down. I’ll get whatever she wants but she swats me away. GiGi slowly makes her way to the dresser on the other side of the room and pulls open the top drawer. From the drawer, she retrieves a bundle of cloth. She takes it and hobbles back to her chair.

“Here.” She thrusts the bundle at me. For a moment, I stare in disbelief, thinking that she had just thrown her laundry at me. But there was some weight to the bundle. Something is inside.

I carefully unwrap it to find a finely detailed sort of container. The outside is enveloped in the raised designs of suns and moons and stars. I slowly turn it around in my hands and run the tips of my fingers over the beautiful lines and curves. Then, gently I open the container to find a just as colorful and detailed inside. There’s a figure of an angel at the center of it all rotating as music starts to play.

It takes no more than a second for me to recognize the song as Clair de Lune. It’s a much softer and sweeter melody that I remember from my childhood.

I look at GiGi expectantly, but her eyes are closed, hands stretched in front of her and fingers playing along with the notes of the song.

I’m happy as I’ll ever be, she had said.

The music box slowed to a stop, but she kept going. Humming the notes along and playing her own personal concert.

....

I found myself humming the notes of Clair de Lune on as I made my way home. The music in my mind did nothing to keep out the anxious thoughts that bombarded my mind. What was I going to do about rent?

Asking Mother was out of the question. Uncle barely had a dollar to his name and he wasn’t going to share it with me anytime soon. If only life was simpler. If only it was like it had been in the past when I was young. All I had to worry about was going to GiGi’s for the night and picking through cold microwave meals.

As soon as I got home, I went to bed. I grabbed the music box and settled under the covers on my futon. I wound up the music box as far as it would go and set it by my head. The familiar notes of moonlight pull me into a deep sleep.

GiGi was a bitter old soul, but she loved me, I guess.

A former concert pianist, a war refugee, a mother, a grandmother. GiGi was many things. She lived to instill in others a love of music and survived each time someone tried to take music away from her.

She always said she’d leave everything to me when she passed. When she did, I inherited a music box.

I inherited the music box.

...

In hindsight, I should have known. Or maybe I just wasn’t listening closely.

In the middle of the night, I get out of bed only to hear a loud thud followed by a few unmelodious music notes. In a panic, I turn the light. At the sight before me, I close my eyes and sigh.

The music box is laying broken at my feet. I gather the pieces in my hands. The hinge popped off leaving the lid detached and the angel figure is bent at 90 degrees.

“No, no, no” I mutter. My sleep-clumsy fingers attempt to force the contraption back together. Slow disjointed notes of Clair de Lune curl into the air.

It was hopeless.

Even the bottom was falling out of the thing. A sort of morbid curiosity makes me pull at the loose piece until the bottom of the music box is completely removed. As one would expect there are the guts on the music box. But shoved in next to the playing mechanism looked like folded paper?

I pick at it with my fingertips. Could it be a note? A letter?

No.

I drop the music box again. This time though, it lands on the futon along with the paper I pulled out.

It’s...money. Bills. Cash. I counted it up, hands shaking. There was enough to cover rent and more.

Your GiGi is as happy as she’ll ever be these days.

And maybe it’s time for me to be happy, too.

[katsukikitten]

Stood Up

A/N Yall thank my friend for sending me rando tumblr screencaps from well aged posts. I just was like oo good fic idea and now here it is. I finally took time to write it. ENJOY!

Unblinking eyes gaze at you in curiosity mixed heavily with pity as you gulp down your fifth complimentary water.

Fellow diners stare, watching the scene unfold with heavy hearts although it is making good dinner conversation. Your dress now constricting when it was once body con. Hugging your curved

You'd been here long enough to watch couples come and go. Families to sit and laugh all the way through coffee and dessert.

Their gazes feel heavy.

"Are you ready to order yet?" The waitress asks kindly, trying hard to keep the pity off of her face, but you know that she knows "Or perhaps more bread?"

You stare down at the third *empty* basket, you bite the inside of your lip to keep your cool. White hot rage flows through your vein competing against burning embarrassment and the tears collecting in your eyes.

The slim waitress begins to collect the empty baskets, giving you a once over. You feel the pity radiating off of her in waves.

"Just a few more minutes please." You smile politely.

"There is heavy traffic tonight." She smiles back trying to encourage you but all it does is remind you that everyone knows what's happening in this restaurant and it is just *you* who is delusional.

And you're beginning to wonder how long you can tell yourself that traffic really is to blame.

It had been well over an hour from the time agreed upon by both yourself and your supposed date. Your phone is still dry, glass staring up with no notification in sight.

Hell not even a spam email.

Biting rouged lips you dig through your purse for any sort of cash to tip the waitress who so kindly took care of you while you sat their waiting patiently like an idiot.

Stood up.

It wasnt like this was the first time. You'd been stood up before and after giving them fifteen extra minutes of time you'd text them "Dont fucking bother my guy." Before ordering yourself a delicious meal and dessert.

Happy over the result, loving the longer life.

But shit you actually LIKED this guy. It was supposed to be your third date with him. He kissed you and left you at your door step damnit!

Or maybe that should have been hint enough.

A sharp inhale to collect yourself before you pat the 10 on the table. Making sure to keep your head held high when suddenly a strong hand clamps on your shoulder. Keeping you seated.

"Hey baby." He says a little loudly, you look into glittering rubies with a begrudged almost angry look. He flashes a wide tooth smile before kissing you on your cheek. Adding, again slightly above a normal voice.

"There was a crazy accident! I left the uber and had to walk here. And you know me I can't keep my phone charged to save my life."

The chair across from you slides across dark hardwood floors before it is settled into. A wink of shining rubies as you stare with now heated eyes.

"Play along? The names Kirishima Eijiro." He winks again.

Who the fuck was this guy?

Dressed in black with a blazing red tie, black vest and matching black shirt sleeves rolled to his forearms.

Why the fuck did he sit down across from you?

And why the fuck wasn't he scared of the death glare you were giving him?

Before you can ask the waitress comes over, giving Kirishima a slight glare.

A glance of "You better be paying" and "You better buy the gorgeous lady dessert!"

It does not go unnoticed by the red head, who happily takes the blame for the delay.

Better than the latter, which was you, this stunningly beautiful woman was being stood up.

It was unmanly. Not to mention it was hurting his heart.

"Bring a bottle of..." He glances to you, giving you a once over before a smile creep along his soft lips, "Actually make it a whiskey neat and a nice rum and coke?"

"Coming right up. Do you need a few moments?" She glances over the two of you, the waitress must know how famished you were. Well he sat across from you, enduring your harshest of glares, so a little pressure wouldn't hurt.

"Eijiro, order for me please *baby*?" You purr, folding up your menu, he takes your request with stride.

Shooting in the dark and hoping for the best.

"She'll have the parm crusted chicken, side caesar salad with the dressing on the side and fries." He winks your way, a smirk slides onto your lips, "I'll have the sirloin, rare to medium rare please and a loaded baked potato."

"Coming right up." She smiles, collecting the menus before happily waltzing to the order board.

You lean forward, a signature cat smile plastered on your lips.

"Not bad. Not bad." You take a sip of your refilled water, "It was Eijiro right?"

He laughs, its warm and kind, causing your stomach to flutter.

"Yes, I didn't catch your name?" He leans closer as you lean back, guarded.

"First, you have to answer why you decided to sit down across from me."

His everlasting smile falters for just a moment. He swallows, debating on answering truthfully or with a lie.

He thinks better of it.

"I didn't like the idea of such stunning fiercoity to be stood up. It was unmanly of your date and...." He waits for the waitress to set your drinks down before continuing, "Dickish."

It is your turn to laugh aloud as you watch a small blush creep upon his cheeks, bringing out the brightness of his eyes. You were truly in the presence of a gentleman, what with him waiting before cursing and speaking so lowly.

While you would have been brash, loud, and uncaring.

He relishes the sound of your sultry laugh, making him wonder what other parts of you were this...this intensely breathtaking.

He quiets some of his dirtier thoughts as he swallows down his desire with the whiskey.

"So you just happened to see me?" You nurse your own drink.

"Yes and no, I hear a couple talking about it on their way out. I was supposed to be with my friends tonight." His eyes roam the room, he smiles and you follow his gaze, "Well more of a work meeting."

A small group with a rowdy ash blonde, a quiet jade haired man, a petite chestnut brown haired woman and a man with a mop of mostly white hair.

For once in your life you feel a little guilty, his group of friends/co workers look fun.

You shouldn't be stealing him away just because he was saving you a bit of embarrassment.

"Oh, go back to them. I've eaten alone plenty of times." You smile his way, "I can cancel our orders."

"Oh no, like I said I'm not about to allow such a stunning fiercoity such as yourself to sit alone." He leans closer, his voice hushed and laced with concern, "Plus you looked....lonely. You must have liked him?"

Seeing him so worried about a strangers emotional state has your stomach in knots, your drink goes down easy before you shrug your shoulders.

"Key word, *liked*" You smile devilishly at him, a set of sharp teeth greet you in return.

"So what do you do for a living that you can have a meeting at a five star restaurant?" Curiosity finally getting the better of you as you pay what was supposed to be his table a final glance.

He let's out a low sigh, it sounds tired to you.

"Hero work." His smile is a fraction of its normal luster.

Or what you considered normal in the past twenty minutes or so.

"Ah, hard work I'm sure. Cheers." You clink his glass, "To you and your crew for keeping us all safe."

He gives you a pondering look before his smile returns to normal.

"Cheers." A quick swallow before your food is set before you.

Both of you sitting in comfortable silence. You watch as he cuts into his steak, the muscles in his arms contracting with each movement. Struggling to stay in his shirt at times, although the shirt did not seem too tight.

You smile as a devilish idea takes over, you stab one of his extra bites, the steak melts in your mouth. Biting back a moan as you savor the flavor.

You cut him a piece of your chicken, he goes to take your fork from your delicate, yet deadly, hand before you pull back.

He looks at you with furrowed brows before he catches on as you gently tilt the fork towards him. He takes a bite, holding eye contact before sliding off the piece of meat.

The chicken dances along his tongue melding with the crusted buttery bread crumbs and cheese.

Your heart slams into your chest, demanding to be heard.

Hell seen with how hard its ramming into your ribcage, wanting to burst free for the first time in a long time.

Another smile spreads across your slightly flushed cheeks.

All the while Kirishima cannot help but imagine what a devine creature such as yourself would taste like.

Sweet.

At least that's what he thought.

"What do you do for a living?" Knife slicing through tender beef. A pause on your end as you debate should you lie or tell the truth.

Well, the date wasn't going awfully, it wouldn't be a bad idea for one of your dates to know the truth.

"I'm a writer."

"What no way?! Like for the paper or published?" You swallow your worry.

"Published."

"Is that why you have yet to give me your name?" He peers up at you attempting to read your body language.

Only when you laughed was your guard down.

It had been partially if not mostly up for majority if this going on hour.

You paused, is that why you always used a pseudonym for fear that someone would put two and two together?

That they may have read your work?

And what if they hated it?

So fucking what if they did, you remind yourself with a sip of your liquor.

"Guess." Another famous cat smile. Kirishima ponders, fork and knife forgotten as he thinks.

"Oh! You do the crime books with that bad ass mob boss woman!" He snaps his fingers to attempt to remember, "'A Lone Red Rose,' ugh it's been on my reading list forever!"

"You're lying." You giggle but when his face becomes crestfallen you almost retreat your half tease half accusation.

A lot of firsts were happening for you tonight.

"Y/LN, you're a best freaking seller! I've been dying to know but never have time. I'm on the first chapter. I'm where the main crooks right hand man's wife gets SNATCHED in the middle of the night! I'm on the edge of my seat but I lost my book and hadn't had time to get a new one." He kinda sulks at the end.

"What happened to it?" Curiosity dances along your tone.

"Oh well Bakugou, the blonde at the table, " A point of your fork and a spy of your eye, "He had to blow up our steak out car to divert the perpetrator from hurting a civilian. He gave me the money for it three fold but I have yet to make it to the store."

"Ah." Is all you offer as you gaze over at his much different life.

Your newly banded tattoo seems to itch extra tonight, you choose to ignore it as another question comes out.

"But I've read so many reviews! Everyone speculates if you've done hero work before, or even shadowing. Some think you're writing your life. I'm guessing shadowing. Am I right?" He looks at you with expectant eyes and you smile warmly to him.

He was kind, unsuspected and reminded you so much of sunshine.

"Who's to say it's not my life?" You giggle and he laughs as well.

"Well the main love interest, again from what I heard, sounds explosive, temper wise. So unless Bakugou is a Mob Boss' son then I'm finding that highly doubtful." His laughter is contagious and you join in once more.

Let this be as it is and as he thinks.

"Ah yes, that would be a funny thought.: You glance at the table again before returning to that glittering gaze, "But you're right. I shadowed heroes in abroad. America actually before my Father sent me here."

"Oh what for?"

"To expand his business. I only just decided to go along with it." You bat long lashes his way.

He orders dessert, the two of you get along quite nicely before he insists he walks you to either the train station or a cab.

"I'll be fine. I'm not helpless or quirkless." It almost comes out a snarl, he places your coat onto your shoulders anyway.

"I would never think that of you. Any woman is capable of defending herself. But I was raised to aid anyway. Please do not take offense my love." He blushes at the end, realizing too late how real that sounded. You curl into the crook of his arm as he places his hand on your hip.

"Thank you my love." You smile up at him only to be pulled closer. He walks you to the curb in front of the restaurant to the idling dark car.

Your idling dark car, with a scarred looking driver. He blinks as the scene gives him a ghost of a feeling. He shakes it off. He goes to open your door for you, stopping just above the handle.

"Oh one more thing." A heavy blush rushes into his cheeks. Suddenly he is nervous, "May I have your time again? For a real date?"

You look deep into his eyes for deception and when you find none your smile.

Another genuine, heart melting smile before you lean up to him. Pressing your lips to his softly, swiping your tongue over his lips for a moment, hinging at what the two of you could be.

It all just depends on your mood and how much you cared to reveal.

He was a hero after all.

But he was so damn handsome.

"Eijiro, that's the realest date I've been on in a long time. Your phone?" You hold out your hand and his face fall.

"I didn't lie about it being dead." He scratches the back of your head and you pull out yours. He gives you his number that you text a winky face too before he opens your door.

Totally lapping up the presence of a true fucking gentleman. Hopefully that only went so far into the bedroom.

You looked at him through the tinted glass before rummaging around in the back seat. Your hands finding purchase on the cracking spine.

Ink slides across paper in a smooth concession before you roll the window down, peeking over it.

"For you." You smirk, "Let me know what you think when you've finished."

"I..I will!" He says as your roll your window up, the driver pulling away giving you a look.

"Madame, you realize that was Red Riot right?" He asks, concern melting into rage that he would dare touch you

"Yes, I know." Cat smile painting your lips.

"Oi! You stood us up to not even fuck?!" Bakugou have snarls, half teases when he finds him out on the curb.

"I got her number."

"Tch, come on let's go. Glad you finally got a copy of that damn book you won't shut the hell up about. You reread it so much that it was falling apart. I did you a favor that day."

"Haha yea Thanks Katsuki." Another suck at the blondes teeth.

Kirishima knew it was you the second he heard you laugh, he had read your book countless times.

He had an idea of who you were.

But he had no idea that his glittering Ruby eyes were staring down at a fortune. The very first and test print of your book, now adorned with your signature and lipstick mark on the front page.

To my hero for the night. 💋