#paul anka is right there

[crazychaoticizzy]

in my head Mick Riva (from Taylor Jenkins Reid’s little universe) is young Paul Anka

[schlock-luster-video]

On September 9, 2022, Five Minutes to Live, Look in Any Window, Age 13, and Right or Wrong: Making Moral Decisions were screened on TCM Underground.

[oleanderflower]

Bruce Wayne x Reader: You Are What You Are To Me

Summary: He’s going to do it! He’s going to ask his wife if he can sleep with her! Maybe!

info: F/readers like early 20s and Bruce is like 35-38 depending on how you want to read it. Also title based of this song: Paul Anka- You Are My Destiny

warnings: inexperienced reader, kissing and some petting ? nothing too explicit (i tried to write smut but i chickened out..)

a/n: sorry for the abrupt ending I lost energy and it felt okish enough :( this, unbetaed, mistakes made are my own! please let me know what you think

3.4k words

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Bruce had never considered himself the kind of man to hesitate. He made decisions with precision, moved with purpose. Yet, as he walked down the dimly lit hallway toward her room, he found himself second-guessing every step.

This was a mistake.

It had to be.

And yet, here he was, about to ask a question that could change everything.

Their marriage had been a matter of convenience, a calculated agreement meant to bolster his Bruce Wayne persona and protect his identity as Batman. She wasn’t some wealthy socialite, nor a woman from Gotham’s elite—she was just… her. A normal woman who had stumbled into his world at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Or maybe the right time, depending on how he looked at it. It was supposed to be a simple arrangement. She played the part of his devoted wife in public, and in return, she gained financial security, protection, whatever she needed.

But over time, things had shifted.

She had slipped past his carefully built walls with her humor, her kindness, the way she treated him like a person rather than an untouchable figure. And somewhere along the way, without meaning to, without wanting to… Bruce had started to fall for her.

Now, standing outside her door, he questioned everything. Was this even fair to her? To them?

Before he could talk himself out of it, he exhaled and knocked quietly, almost hoping she wouldn’t answer.

There was a soft shuffle, then the sound of approaching footsteps before the door swung open.

And there she was.

She blinked up at him, her eyes lighting up as she smiled, laughter already in her voice. “Bruce!” she giggled, noticing the hesitant little wave he gave in return. “What’s up? You need something?”

He swallowed, his usual composure faltering. “I have a question. Do you mind if I come in?”

“Yeah, of course! It’s no problem.” She stepped aside, waving him in before teasing, “Seriously, lover—” she giggled, “—this is your house. You don’t need permission.”

Bruce stepped inside, his lips twitching slightly. “Maybe, but this is your room. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

She rolled her eyes, shutting the door behind him. “Nonsense. Come in, sit, and tell me what’s up.”

He hesitated for only a moment before taking a seat in the chair by her window, hands clasped together as he considered how to say what he came here for.

How did he even begin?

She settled onto the bed, legs crossed beneath her as she watched him with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Alright, Babe,” she said, tilting her head. “Spit it out. You’re acting weird—even for you.”

He exhaled through his nose, rubbing his hands together before finally meeting her gaze. “This arrangement… our marriage… it started as a contract. A cover. We both knew what we were getting into.”

She nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “Right…”

“But over time, things changed,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “You changed things.”

Her brows lifted slightly, but she stayed silent, letting him continue.

“I never expected to enjoy this,” he confessed. “I never expected to… enjoy you. Your company. The way you fit into my life.” He let out a soft, humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “I didn’t think this would work. That I could let someone in like this.”

Her expression softened, but he could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

“And now?” she asked gently.

Bruce swallowed. This was it. The moment of no return.

“Now, I want more.” He leaned forward slightly, searching her face for any sign of hesitation. “I want you.”

Silence settled between them, thick and heavy, and for the first time in a long while, Bruce felt vulnerable.

Her lips parted slightly, surprise flashing across her features before something else took its place—something unreadable. “You mean…”

He nodded once, forcing himself to hold her gaze. “I want to sleep with you, be with you, in all ways.”

A beat passed. Then another.

And then she let out a quiet, breathless laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “Wow,” she murmured. “You really don’t do subtle, huh babe?”

Bruce exhaled, somewhere between frustration and amusement. “I thought being direct would be best.”

She studied him for a long moment, and he let her—let her see that he meant it, that this wasn’t just about physical attraction or convenience. It was her. It had always been her.

Then, slowly, she smiled.

“Close the door, Bruce.”

Bruce’s breath hitched, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides. He had prepared himself for rejection, for awkwardness, maybe even for her to giggle and think he’d been joking with her.

But this? This quiet invitation—this acceptance wrapped in a soft smile—made his pulse stutter.

For a moment, he just looked at her, as if trying to commit this to memory. The way the firelight flickered against her skin, the way she watched him with curiosity and something else he wasn’t ready to name.

Then, he did as she asked.

He turned, pushed the door closed with a quiet click, and when he faced her again, she was still watching him—waiting.

“So,” she said, leaning back against the headboard, her fingers idly tracing patterns against the fabric of her blanket. “You want me. Just like that?”

Bruce exhaled slowly, stepping closer, but not sitting—not yet. “Not just like that.” His voice was lower now, more certain. “I want you because I—” He paused, struggling with the weight of the words. “Because I care about you. More than I should. More than I planned to.”

Something flickered across her face, something real.

“You’re saying this isn’t just about sex,” she murmured, more to herself than to him.

“No,” he admitted. “It’s not.”

Her lips pressed together as she considered him, and he let her—gave her the time she needed, the space to decide.

Then, she tilted her head, a tease tugging at the corner of her mouth. “So, let’s say I say yes. What happens then?”

Bruce finally sat on the edge of the bed, close enough to feel the warmth of her body, but not quite touching. He reached for her hand, hesitating only briefly before brushing his fingers against hers.

“Then we stop pretending,” he said simply.

She let out a breath, then started to giggle before gripping his hand more firmly and looking at him.

“Babe, you know you’re like… my first relationship, right?”

Bruce paused, processing that. “…You mean the first relationship you’ve ever had was a contract marriage? Not even, like—kissing another person? Or being with them?”

She shook her head slightly, amused. “I’m surprised the great Batman didn’t figure this out already, but nope. Never even held hands with someone romantically until I got with you. And in the beginning, it was all just for the contract—the cheek kisses, the way I held onto you in public. That’s why I’ve always been so silly with it. I’ve never done any of this before.”

Something sharp and possessive curled in Bruce’s chest. He was her first. The only one. And now, he was certain—he’d be the only one ever. Because he wasn’t going to let her go.

“Batman doesn’t have to know everything,” he muttered.

She burst into laughter, full and bright. “That’s what you got from that?”

“I’m processing right now,” he grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face.

She only laughed harder, shaking her head. “Take all the time you need, big guy.”

Bruce let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair before looking back at her. She was still smiling, still watching him with that easy amusement that had somehow wormed its way into his life and refused to leave.

“I just didn’t expect that,” he admitted, his voice quieter now.

She shrugged. “I figured it never really mattered. I mean, our whole relationship started as an act, so it’s not like I needed to bring it up. And besides…” Her fingers toyed with his, tracing idle patterns against his skin. “You kind of made it easy.”

His brows furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

She smirked. “Well, you weren’t exactly pushing for anything at the start, either. You’re the king of personal space, Mr. Wayne.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, conceding the point. “That’s fair.”

She leaned back against the pillows, watching him with something softer in her expression now. “But, honestly? I’m glad it was you.”

That made him pause.

She exhaled, her gaze flickering to where their hands were still loosely linked. “If I was gonna have a first for all of this—holding hands, pretending to be married, even just trusting someone like this—I’m glad it was you.”

His chest tightened, something deep and unshakable settling inside him.

“You’re not pretending now,” he said, more a statement than a question.

She shook her head, smiling just a little. “No. Not anymore.”

Bruce exhaled slowly, letting the words sink in. Then, with deliberate intent, he brought her hand up to his lips, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against her knuckles.

Her breath hitched.

“If I’m your first,” he murmured, his voice low, “then I’ll make sure I’m your last.”

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t pull away. Didn’t look away.

Instead, she squeezed his hand, her lips curving into something small but certain.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I think you already are.”

Bruce’s heart stuttered in his chest at her words, something warm and unexpected flooding through him. For a man who rarely let anyone close enough to matter, who had always kept himself at a distance, hearing her say that hit him harder than he’d expected.

He moved closer, just enough to feel the warmth of her breath against his skin, his hand still holding hers but his other moving slowly, carefully, to rest against her cheek. His thumb brushed over her skin, the motion almost absent, as if he were memorizing the feel of her beneath his touch.

“You don’t know what that means to me,” he said quietly, the words low and gravelly, like they came from somewhere deep inside him. “I’ve never let anyone this close. Never let anyone in like this.”

She didn’t answer right away, instead tilting her head slightly into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment. “I think you’ve been letting me in a little at a time,” she murmured, her voice soft but sure.

His breath caught at the tenderness in her tone. “I’m not used to this.”

“I know,” she replied, her eyes opening again to meet his. “And that’s okay.”

For a moment, neither of them moved, the air thick with unspoken things. Bruce didn’t know how to move forward, how to bridge the gap between the man he had been and the man she made him want to be. The part of him that had always been about control, about keeping everything in place, was at war with the part of him that wanted to simply let go and fall into her, to trust her like he had never trusted anyone else.

He lowered his head, lips brushing against her forehead in a slow, lingering kiss. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, the words heavy with the weight of his own vulnerability.

She smiled softly, gently cupping his face with her free hand, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “You don’t have to figure everything out all at once.” Her eyes sparkled with a playful glint. “But I wouldn’t mind you figuring this out.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound low and amused. “You’re not making this easy on me, are you?”

“Isn’t that the point?” she teased.

Bruce couldn’t help but smile, the pull of something unfamiliar tugging at him, something lighter and freer than he had ever let himself be. “I think you’re right.”

She leaned in then, closing the distance between them, her lips brushing his in a kiss that was slow, exploratory, yet filled with the weight of everything that had led up to this moment.

And for the first time in a long time, Bruce Wayne—no masks, no pretenses—let himself fall into it completely.

The kiss deepened again, slow and full of promise, as if the world outside ceased to exist. With each gentle movement, each shared breath, Bruce felt himself slipping deeper, losing himself in the warmth of her touch, the taste of her lips, the rhythm of her heart beating in sync with his. Time felt irrelevant, and all he could focus on was her, the way she made him feel.

He broke the kiss for just a moment, his forehead resting against hers, his breath shaky but steadying. His pulse was loud in his ears as he searched her eyes, trying to grasp the enormity of what had just happened. She was watching him with that soft intensity, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks, and for a moment, he couldn’t help but just watch her in return.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low, a vulnerability slipping through the cracks of his usually composed facade. “I mean, after everything… after everything we’ve been through, are you sure this is what you want?”

She opened her eyes, and the gaze they shared spoke volumes. It was the quiet acknowledgment of all they had built—of the contract, the moments of closeness, the way their dynamic had shifted over time.

Her smile was soft, unwavering. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” she replied, her voice steady but filled with warmth. She reached up, tracing the line of his jaw, the touch sending a ripple of heat through him. “I didn’t think I could be, but here I am.”

Bruce’s heart beat faster, a surge of emotion overwhelming him. He wasn’t used to this—being so open, so close, so vulnerable. But with her, the walls he had spent years building seemed to crumble bit by bit. It was strange, terrifying, but exhilarating.

“I never thought I’d get this close to anyone,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But with you… it feels like everything else fades away.”

Without thinking, he leaned in again, his lips finding hers with renewed urgency. This kiss wasn’t slow—it was desperate, filled with the months of unspoken longing, the quiet moments when he wanted to reach for her but had always held himself back. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her in closer, his other hand gently cupping the back of her neck. She responded immediately, her arms wrapping around him, pulling him in as if she, too, couldn’t get close enough.

For a few minutes, it was just them—no pretenses, no masks, no expectations. Just two people caught up in something that had started as an act but was now something so much more. The kiss was hungry, fierce, yet tender, as if they were both trying to absorb the other into themselves.

Eventually, they broke apart, their breathing heavy, their foreheads resting against one another as they tried to catch their breath. Bruce’s chest rose and fell with each breath, his heart racing in his ears. He had no plan, no clear path ahead, but for the first time in a long time, it felt okay. The future didn’t need to be decided now.

His lips found hers again, slower this time, gentler, but no less passionate. Each kiss was a promise, each touch a reassurance that they were here, together, and that was all that mattered in that moment.

They pulled back again, both breathless, but this time, she opened her eyes and reached up, fingers threading through his hair, messing up the strands that had fallen loose.

Bruce hummed in contentment, tilting his head into her touch. “You’re good at this,” he murmured, his voice still thick with desire.

She giggled softly, her hand tracing his face, following the contours of his jaw, his cheekbone, the line of his lips. “I think I’m just getting started,” she teased, before leaning in to place soft, scattered kisses along his face, his eyelids, his nose, his jaw.

Bruce chuckled, the sound warm and deep, something unguarded in it. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting her do what she wanted, getting lost in the sensation of her hands on him, her lips on his skin. It was a new experience, one he hadn’t even known he wanted until now.

He breathed out a laugh, letting himself get lost in the moment, in the way she moved, the way she made him feel like everything was right for the first time in so long.

This—her—was something he couldn’t have imagined, but now that it was happening, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

As she kissed his jaw, Bruce could feel the hesitation in her touch—small, fleeting moments of uncertainty that gave way to something else. Despite the soft, tentative movements, there was a confidence to the way she held him, a growing assurance in the way her lips moved against his skin. It was clear that she was still learning, still figuring this out—this intimacy, this closeness—but somehow, that made the whole thing feel more real, more grounded. There was no pretense between them.

Bruce, for his part, was fully aware of her inexperience, the way her hands seemed to linger a little longer than she might have intended or the way she seemed to carefully gauge each movement, as if testing the waters. But despite that, she was doing just fine. She was more than fine. Her kisses were soft, but not shy; tentative, but with an underlying desire that made his heart race.

He felt a rush of affection for her—how brave she was, even when she was unsure, even when she was still figuring out what it meant to be this close to someone. It made him realize that, for all his experience, there was something equally precious about this shared vulnerability. It made him want to be more open, to be a little less controlled for her sake, for both their sakes.

Bruce took her hand, guiding it gently back to his face, encouraging her to touch him with a little more confidence. “You’re doing fine,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against her skin. “Better than fine. Just relax.”

She met his eyes, a small, uncertain smile tugging at her lips. “I… I’m trying,” she admitted, a slight giggle escaping her. “This is all… new.”

“I know,” Bruce replied, his voice soft but filled with warmth. “But I like it. I like that it’s new. We don’t need to rush.”

She smiled, more at ease now, and her fingers slid from his jawline to his neck, then up to his hair, her touch growing more deliberate. She leaned up, meeting his lips again, this time with a little more conviction. The kiss was slower, more exploratory, as if she were testing the waters, but she didn’t pull back this time. Instead, she allowed herself to feel him fully, and in turn, Bruce felt his own control slip, just a little.

His hands moved to her waist, pulling her a fraction closer, and this time she didn’t hesitate, her arms wrapping around his neck as she deepened the kiss, matching his movements with surprising ease. Bruce couldn’t help but smile against her lips at how she was learning to navigate this, how her natural curiosity was turning into something far more confident, far more sensual.

Even if she was still inexperienced, she had an intuitive understanding of him, of what he needed in this moment. She responded to him with a kind of instinct he hadn’t expected, one that made him feel like they were truly discovering each other, not just physically, but emotionally, too.

“See?” he murmured between kisses, his breath shallow. “I told you you’re doing great.”

Her lips curled into a smile against his, and she kissed him again—more urgently now, as if she was no longer afraid of getting it wrong. There was no right or wrong in this moment, no perfect way to do it. It was just them, together. She pulled him even closer, their bodies pressing against one another, her movements growing more sure, more confident with each second.

And Bruce, feeling her give herself to the moment fully, couldn’t help but get lost in her again, in the way she kissed him like she was learning, like she was willing to take that chance with him, despite everything. The world outside their room didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except this moment, this feeling of connection that was unlike anything Bruce had ever felt before.

[foone]

I love finding out there's weird drama behind a song.

So, in 1967, a french songwriter named Jacques Revaux composes as song called "Comme d'habitude" (As Usual) with lyrics by Claude François and Gilles Thibaut. Claude François releases a version with him singing it, and it's enough of a hit that some music execs are trying to get someone to do an English version.

David Bowie's publisher happened to share an office with another publisher who brings in the record, and Bowie's publisher suggests Bowie could sing it. Bowie's manager thinks it's a sure-fire hit: He thinks Bowie is a good singer and lyricist, but not so good a composer, so by using the music of Jacques Revaux and Bowie's lyrics and voice, it'll easily sell lots of copies.

Bowie writes new lyrics, calls his version "Even a Fool Learns to Love", and records a demo in 1968. The French publishers of the original song turn him down, however: They want some big name singer if they're gonna sell the rights, not some unknown "David Bowie" guy (Space Oddity wouldn't be until 1969, so he wasn't a star yet, especially internationally).

So Paul Anka enters the picture, after hearing the song on French radio while on holiday. He's been a successful songwriter since the 50s, and he's a big enough star that the publishers of "Comme d'habitude" agree to sell him the rights (for 1 dollar. But Jacques Revaux's label retains the rights to the music, so they get royalties).

He then has a meeting with a singer and "some mob guys". The singer says he's getting out of the music business, he's sick of it. Paul Anka rewrites the lyrics to be about that idea: at the end of your career, looking back, and not having any regrets. He calls up the singer and offers the song.

in 1969, Frank Sinatra releases "My Way" to immediate success.

And this pisses Bowie off. He was going to release a version of "Comme d'habitude"! He wrote his own lyrics and even recorded it! Reportedly he was angry about this for a year, and decides "screw it, I can write a big song like that!". So he does, makes it sound "a little like My Way", and

So in 1971 he writes "Life on Mars?", as a parody of "My Way" and proof he can write songs like "My Way". It's included on his 1971 album Hunky Dory, and released as a single in 1973.

And since it's considered one of his best songs (as well as one of the best songs of all time), I guess he really succeeded in proving he could do that.

But yeah. Listening to "Life on Mars?" I never would have guessed it was connected to Frank Sinatra's "My Way"

[tingilingtg]

Put your head on my shoulder ⋆.🌧️*༄

you and the other members of the BAU had flown hours away from home to work on a case. This one was particularly difficult as the unsub always seemed to outsmart you right as you were about to catch him. It had been a few days of this and everyone was exhausted. Tonight was no different. You and everyone else were running purely off of caffeine and willpower.

Hotch noticed that you were particularly stressed out and pulled you aside and offered to drive you around.

Anywhere, just to get you out for a while so you could have just a moment of relaxation, a moment to breathe. You agreed happily and followed him go his car, telling tue other you would be right back. They were too invested in the case to notice. He drove you around the city for a while, and you watched the fluorescent lights of the buildings through the cloudy, rainy night. The moon was peeking through the clouds like something out of a movie. Hotch got a call and answered it, then flipped though the radio stations looking for something to get rid of the silence. 'Put Your Head on My Shoulder' started playing and he turned it up a little, glancing over at you meeting your tired eyes, and said softly; "I love you" and gently grabbed your hand and brought it up to his lips, placing a soft kiss on it. As he drove around the city he would occasionally look over at you and smile. Eventually he would stop at a 24 hour cafe and bought the both of you coffee and a few pastries for the other members of the group and brought you back. When he was asked about where he took you, he would just glance over to wherever you were and smile, dismissing the question. It would become a regular thing, for him to sweep you away when you were almost too stressed to function; offering you a few moments of peace. But you couldn't complain.

The end.

(I jst copy pasted the pinned comment from this video .

Aaand Im posting this cuz like hell like it was jst an put your hand on my shoulder × rain video with aaron hotchner saying I love you and someone made a literal fanfic with effort on it so like 💔💔💔)

[user2772636]

Puppy Love

A pissed golden boy

《♡》《♡》《♡》

《♡》《♡》《♡》

When the school's golden boy finds a list about a few girls in his class (which include you), all hell breaks loose. You decide you think he looks adorable mad.

》》》

Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: screaming match, boys being boys, swearing, loads amount of fluff

Modern-ish!AU (They're still in highschool tho)

》》》

》》》

A list. That's where it all started. One list. And your name. It started there, too.

You might be wondering what started. Here's how it goes.

The year was 2001. Voltaire High was filled with students roaming around the corridors talking about their day, the exams coming up, summer, and more. You were one of the students. Your friends were, too.

"Ugh, I can't wait for summer to start. I need to get out of this sweat polluted hell hole called school." Simone gags as you all walk past some boys who just got out of gym class. You and Michèle laugh.

"I can't wait for summer to start because-"

"Your boyfriend is finally all yours." You and Simone finish Michèle's sentence in a mocking tone, burting out after a few seconds. You see Michèle roll her eyes with a smile.

"Well, atleast I have a boyfriend for this summer. What do you guys have?" She shrugs, and Simone is quick to butt in.

"Well, I, for one, have your brother." Michèle shoves Simone away, scoffing in surprise.

"Be glad I was calm about it. I was ready to smash your heads together when I found out." They tease and laugh around. They both turn to look at you.

"That leaves you, Y/N." A smile starts forming on their faces again. "Any luck with the golden boy?"

Joseph Descamps. Also known as Voltaire High's "Golden Boy". He was tall, athletic, smart, basically perfect, hence the nickname.

Joseph walks down the stairwell with his friends, laughing like dogs, so loud the whole school could hear. But who cares?

He was on his way to the courtyard when he overhears something. Paper crumpling and getting passed around. Whispers and such. He pays no mind to it, thinking they were just talking about the tests.

It was break time, so they did whatever after.

》》》

You lean against your hand in class, trying not to fall asleep right then and there. It was so boring you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer.

Joseph was glancing towards you, chuckling at how adorable you were dropping your head and catching it in a loop. He licks his lips, trying to bring his focus back on the discussion, but his eyes keep lingering towards you again and again.

Suddenly, a crumpled piece of paper flies in the air. It lands right on his desk, and he immediately gets it in his hands. Some of his classmates roam around him as he unfolds it, revealing ink scribbled down.

On top, it read "VOLTAIR HIGH BEAUTIES RANKED." There were ten rankings. He read through them. In first place was Annick, their classmate who currently wasn't in this class. The next few were some of the girls from other grades. But on ninth is what shocked him.

Your name was written. There was a sidenote that said, "already targeted; stay away or try." What does that even mean? Do you have a boyfriend he doesn't know about?

His thoughts begun to roam, and then the bell rings. Students rush out the door, but he's quicker. He rushes to the stairwell, hanging off before screaming.

"Hey!" The people walking stop, looking up at him. He begins to get nervous, voice shivering, but he tries to toughen up. He notices your eyes on him, and he thinks maybe he can't do this. But he does.

"Why the fuck is there a list of the girls from here? Are they some kind of joke to you? Go look at yourselves before thinking about what other people look like!" He exclaims, throwing both his arms up in frustration.

"And why is Y/N on ninth? Ninth? Are you all serious? She's supposed to be in first, in my opinion!" He doesn't even realise he said that till everyones eyes turned to you. But you kept your eyes on him. Even if he was almost a hundred feet away, the way you looked at him right then made his knees weak and throat as dry as sahara.

Then, when he least expected it, almost everyone in the stairwell said, "We know!"

He freezes up, looking around. They're all just staring at him, dead pan. One of his friends, Dupin, walks up to him.

"Just fucking talk to her already. Go." Dupin pushes Joseph to the actual staircase. Joseph gulps, adjusting his shirt. The whole time, everyone stares. He keeps his eyes on the ground, scared he'll trip and fall and embarass himself. Especially infront of you.

When he makes it to you, he wipes his face. He clears his throat, but before he speaks, he looks around again.

"What are you looking at? Go home!" Everyone statts wlaking again, and he hears you laugh quietly. His cheeks flush.

You nod to Simone and Michèle, indicating them to go and that you'll tell them everything later. You turn back to Joseph.

"Hi." You say, smiling up at him. You fidget with the coat inbetween your arms.

"Hi." He laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You stay quiet for a bit before you cut the silence.

"First place huh? You really think so?" You ask him, tilting your head to meet his eyes.

His head shoots up, looking at you with an even redder face than before.

"Yeah... I mean, who wouldn't think that?" He flashes his teeth, and he's so adorably awkward compared to his façade when he needs to be the golden boy.

"Well, everyone did. Everyone but you." You look down at the floor, trying to keep your smile smaller to avoid showing him how giddy you are.

"Yeah, everyone but me." The awkward silences make you cringe, but you're too happy about this to cast him down.

The next sentence included both of you speaking at the same time. You two laughed it off, and from then, he asked you out. That's when it really started. Earlier was the beginning. But this, now, was the start. There's a difference, okay?

You guess you do have a boy this summer. And he's as bright as the sun. He's the golden boy.

》》》

Guess what? It's 5,30 am here, and i finished this in 30 mins (im losing my mind) ANWWW i hope this is good enough sorry for taking so long w this

[xreaderdumpster]

X-Men playlists Pt. 2!

I have had this in my drafts for SO long. Here's a part 2! Includes some bonus characters- Nightcrawler, Bishop and Deadpool (know he's not an X-men character but I had ideas for him.

Scott- Piano man by Billy Joel (defo does a karaoke rendition of this song with Logan and Morph on harmonica), Would you fall in love with me again from Epic: The Musical, City of Stars from La La Land, You spin me right round by Dead or Alive, Scotty doesn’t know by Lustra (wonder why this is here hmmmm…), Mr. Loverman by Rick Montgomery, Crazy little thing called love by Queen. 

Gambit- Ma Meillure Ennemie by Storme (French and a lil sad), Born with a broken heart by Damiano David, Pretty Please by Dutch Melrose, Fuck her gently by Tenatious D, The Shadow of love by the Damned, Down in New Orleans by Dr. John and Out the window by Bowling for soup (makes too much sense). 

Logan- Always on my mind by Elvis Presley (tie between this and Jailhouse Rock), Put your head on my shoulder by Paul Anka, Goodbye yellow brick road by Elton John, Sympathy for the devil from Rolling Stones, Carry on my wayward son by Kansas, If you seek Amy by Britany Spears (A. Guilty Pleasure song and B. I follow the headcanon he enjoys partners across the mansion so is passed around like a blunt), I’d do anything for love (but I won’t do that) by Meatloaf. 

Rogue- Before he cheats by Carrie Underwood, Backwoods Barbie by Dolly Parton (I know Rogue isn’t exactly wearing push up bras and heels but it gives her vibes), Sally’s song from Nightmare before Christmas, Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Ray, Burnin’ Love cover by Wynonna, Gunpowder and Lead by Miranda Lambert and Couldn’t make it any harder by Sabrina Carpenter (this song is ROGUE’S!!!)

Jean- Hold my hand by Lady Gaga, End of Beginning by Djo, Girls on Film by Duran Duran, Rise like a phoenix by Conchita Wurst (I said I’d avoid The Phoenix by Fall Out Boy!!), Rocket man by Elton John, Dog days are over by Florence and the machine and Around here from the 9 to 5 musical (this feels like a whole intro to being an X-men with Jean being Violet and some poor schmuck being Judy). 

Storm- Go your own way by Fleetwood Mac, One last time by Ariana Grande, Where have you been by Rihanna (I feel like she’d kick ass at this song on Just Dance), I’m every woman by Chaka Khan, Bulletproof by La Roux, She wolf by Shakira and Goddess by Laufey (I feel this song is really Storm coded!)

Hank- Misty Mountains from the Hobbit, Window shopping in New York by Fly Guy Five, My way of life by Frank Sinatra, Dream a little dream of me cover from Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald, Vincent by Don McLean (a good song about an influential artist, what’s not Hank coded  about that?), The Plagues from Prince of Egypt soundtrack (I feel like him and Kurt would watch this film together every so often!) and Don Quixote: Act 1: Quiteria and Basillio (I loved Beast and Carly’s relationship from the original cartoon, this gives me them vibes)

Jubilee- Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan (probably anything by this woman or Sabrina Carpenter), If I Can’t Dance by Sophie Ellis-Bextor, Firework by Katy Perry, Bad reputation cover by Avril Lavigne, Say so by Doja Cat, Bubblegum bitch by Marina and the Diamonds and Dirty car by Studio Killers (Most studio killers songs give me Jubilee vibes!)

Morph- If we were gay by NSP (them x Logan vibes), One of your girls by Troy Sivan,  A Human’s touch by TWRP, Code by Nemo (of course I had to include a non-binary singer!), G.U.Y. by Lady Gaga, Cartoons and Vodka by Jinx Monsoon (I think Morph and Jubilee would watch Drag Race a fair bit) and So good right now by Fall Out Boy.

Bonuses- 

Kurt- I will wait by Mumford and Sons, 99 Luftballons by Nena (an obvious choice but!!), Break my stride by Matthew Wilder, Take on me by a-ha, Through Heaven’s eyes from Prince of Egypt soundtrack (anything from this movie really but this one makes me think of his talk with Gambit in X-Men ‘97), Don’t go breaking my heart by Elton John and Kiki Dee and I’m still here from Treasure Planet. 

Bishop- Heartbeat by Childish Gambino, Danny don’t you know by Ninja Sex Party (Morph introduced him to this and it’s the only song of NSP he likes), Angry by Rolling Stones. Don’t think he’d be that into what we would see as modem music hence the shorter list. 

Wade- FYI I wanna F your A by Ninja Sex Party (I’m a Poolverine shipper so this is targeted specifically at Logan), it boy by bbno$, Hot to Go by Chappell Roan, U know what’s up from Turning Red (very much NYSNC vibes), Off my face by Maneskin, Don’t Cha by Pussycat Dolls and Give it to me by the Northern boys (Morph and Wade would love this band imo).

[acanthasdreams]

a song that reminds me of them - all poets ₊˚⊹♡

Trying to write shorter form content for funsies, might change format later tho... phew.  Note: These are all just my own thoughts! I was challenging myself to only pick one song for each of them, bc there’s too many songs one can pick (esp for neil) They also don’t have long descriptions as to why bc I’m terrible at writing my thought processes on that lol -acantha

🐇 . *. ⋆·˚ ༘ *༄ 

Neil Perry  ₊˚⊹♡

Beautiful Boy by John Lennon "Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy."

I wanted to pick a more light hearted song for him!

Bc all the sad ones just...make me sad lol (Please, Please, Please was 2nd in line.) 

He deserved love and happiness he's just a baby

All he wanted was a good papa to remind him he's a beautiful boy </3

Todd Anderson ₊˚⊹♡

Hiding Tonight by Alex Turner “Tomorrow I'll be quicker, I'll stare into the strobe lights flicker and afloat I'll stay, But I'm quite alright hiding, today" 

I think the lyrics match the way he had to learn to come out of his shell ✨️

I also needed a reason to write about how amazing the submarine soundtrack is

2nd pick was Asleep bc he's also charlie kelmeckis coded

Charlie Dalton  ₊˚⊹♡

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen "Ooh love, ooh lover boy. What're you doing tonight? Set my alarm turn on my charm. That's because I'm a good old-fashioned lover boy" 

I know that boy is a suave good old-fashioned lover boy 

He's so collar tucked out, hair brushed back suave.

I love him.

Steven Meeks  ₊˚⊹♡

Put Your Head on My Shoulder by Paul Anka "Put your head on my shoulder. Hold me in your arms, baby. Squeeze me oh so tight. Show me that you love me too." 

He reminds me of the sound, I don't know how to describe it

50s heartthrob vibe me thinks

I wanna put my head on his shoulder

I think the other poets would want to also

Knox Overstreet  ₊˚⊹♡

Be My Baby by The Ronettes  "I'll make you happy baby, just wait and see. For every kiss you give me, I'll give you three."

That boy is a hopeless romantic

It played in my head while watching him get Chris to like him in the end.

Gerard Pitts  ₊˚⊹♡

Dancing on the Ceiling by Ella Fitzgerald "He's dancing overhead, on the ceiling near my bed. In my side, through the night."

He's a tall lanky boy and the song has tall lanky boy vibes !!

I dunno how to describe it, listen to the song and tell me I'm trippin'

But I feel like he'd be a real sweetheart and Ella is romance-y

Richard Cameron  ₊˚⊹♡

Bigmouth Strikes Again by the Smiths "Bigmouth strikes again, and I've got no right to take my place to the human race."

Born with his foot in his mouth - review by Neil Perry.

[thebunnednun]

LOYALTY [Chapter 4]

Katsuki Bakugou x Sugar Baby! Reader

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

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

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

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

Summary:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So take out it was!

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

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

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

‘I should do another show soon.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The shows back on!”

“I’m coming!”

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Bakugou barks, annoyed.

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

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

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

“No.”

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

“Her.”

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘You know what’s missing.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

12:05 AM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why couldn’t you be here to save him? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spiceman420: “You streaming tonight?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Retrofan23: "Can we send you some? 😍"

FrightenedFae: I’ll be your plushie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

StarGazer88: "Are you into any video games?"

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

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

Retrofan23: "Do you have any guilty pleasures?"

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

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

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

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

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

Bakugou’s breath hitched as he readied himself to send the message. He was nervous—something that didn’t happen often, but this was different. You were different.

Spiceman420: Found something that might be your type. Mind if I send it your way?

He sent the message, his thumb hovering over the screen as if he could somehow will a response from you. Meanwhile, you were adjusting your phone, propping it against a pillow to get a better angle, unaware of the chaos you were causing in the chat.

Yourmom69: “I’m still caught up on the lack of plushies. I wanna see you surrounded by them!” 

“Maybe I'll start a new collection soon.~"

As the chat exploded with suggestions, Bakugou’s phone buzzed with your reply. His eyes widened slightly, and his pulse quickened as he read your response, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He quickly started searching for the best way to get that bear to you, his mind filled with thoughts of how you’d react when you saw it. He could picture you holding it close, smiling—maybe even thinking of him when you did.

You laugh again, the sound light and genuine as you shake your head. "You guys are being too generous," you say, warmth seeping into your tone. "But fine, I’ll make a list. Just one plushie at a time, though! That way, no one gets left out."

As the chat continues to buzz with excitement, Bakugou leans back against the wall, his heart still racing. His hand grips his phone tightly, and he can’t help the small smirk tugging at his lips. Watching you smile at his gift, even through a screen, feels oddly fulfilling.

He glances at the time on his tablet, realizing how long he’s been watching, but he doesn’t care. For now, he’s content to stay right where he is, just a little closer to you, even if it’s through a screen.

You scan through the chat, eyes catching a message you’d somehow missed. "Oh no, did I miss something from Spiceman420 ?" you ask aloud, teasingly adding, "Go ahead, but it better not be anything weird!" You laugh softly, leaning back against your pillows, the light from your screen casting a soft glow over your face.

Meanwhile, Bakugou is sitting on the edge of his bed, his tablet propped up on a makeshift stand of books and a few old magazines. His fingers hover over his phone screen as he quickly types the link to a fluffy blond teddy bear he’d found, slamming it into the chat. The moment he hits send, his heart races, watching for your reaction.

Your screen lights up with the image of the teddy bear, and the chat immediately bursts into a chorus of oo’s and awe’s. 

Yourmom69: That’s so cute!  

StarGazer88: Awww, I love it!  

Retrofan23: That bear’s got style.  

FrightenedFae: It would be perfect for you!

You tilt your head slightly, inspecting the bear. "Okay, I have to admit, that’s really cute," you say, your voice softening. "I could use a little guy to cuddle with and keep me company.” 

Bakugou’s lips twitch into a small smile as he sees your reaction. Without hesitating, he taps into his account and tips you enough to cover both the bear and its shipping. He feels a mix of satisfaction and a strange, unfamiliar warmth as he watches you consider his gift.

"Whoa, looks like Spiceman420 is really spoiling me tonight," you say with a playful lilt in your voice. "Thank you so much!" You glance at the growing number of comments scrolling up the screen.

Yourmom69: You’re so lucky!  

StarGazer88: We need to get her more plushies you guys!  

Retrofan23: Make a shopping list, we’ll cover it all!  

FrightenedFae: Let us spoil you!

You felt a little panic rise into your chest at the idea of owning plushies again. But you could just keep them inside the room as props. That’s all they would be, props.

As the chat continues to buzz with excitement, Bakugou leans back against the wall, his heart still racing. His hand grips his phone tightly, and he can’t help the small smirk tugging at his lips. Watching you smile at his gift, even through a screen, feels oddly fulfilling.

He glances at the time on his tablet, realizing how long he’s been watching, but he doesn’t care. For now, he’s content to stay right where he is, just a little closer to you, even if it’s through a screen.

As you continue chatting with your viewers, a large tip notification pops up on your screen, nearly making you do a double-take. "$500?!" you exclaim, a mix of surprise and amusement in your voice. The accompanying message reads:

"Put on some lotion for us, please."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "You know, I can’t say no to that," you tease, your voice dropping to a sultry tone. The chat goes wild with excitement, the screen filling with heart emojis and messages encouraging you.

Meanwhile, Bakugou, who had been half-distracted by his own thoughts, immediately perks up, his vermillion eyes widening at the sudden turn of events. He sits up straighter, his jaw tightening slightly as he watches you on the screen. His eyebrows raise in surprise, but he can’t tear his gaze away.

You make a show of it, slowly walking over to your vanity and grabbing a bottle of lotion. "I guess you all want a little show, huh?" you say, your voice soft and teasing. The way you drag out your words only makes the anticipation grow, and you can see the chat explode with excitement.

Yourmom69: Damn ma, you sexy!!  

StarGazer88: This is gonna be good!  

Retrofan23: Can’t wait to see this!  

FrightenedFae: I’m dying already!

You stand up and move gracefully back to your vanity, the soft light from your candles casting a warm, golden glow on your skin. Bakugou watches intently as you sit on the stool, positioning yourself just right for the camera. The robe you’re wearing shifts slightly, revealing a bit more of your thigh as you sit down, and you can almost hear the collective gasp from your audience.

As you pour a generous amount of lotion into your hands, you rub them together slowly, the sound of your hands moving against each other barely audible but strangely intimate. The way you start at your ankles, (you not showing your feet for free working the lotion into your skin with deliberate, sensual movements, has Bakugou leaning in closer to his screen. His eyes are locked on you, his heart pounding in his chest as he watches you slowly massage the lotion up your calves, over your knees, and then up your thighs. 

His throat feels dry, and he swallows hard, trying to regain some semblance of composure. But it’s no use; he’s completely captivated by the sight of you. The soft, deliberate way you move, the way your fingers glide over your skin, it’s all too much. His breathing becomes shallow, his heart hammering as he watches you.

You glance up at the camera, your eyes meeting his through the screen, and he swears you can see him. The connection feels almost tangible, like you’re right there in the room with him. You tilt your head slightly, giving the camera a knowing look before standing up and moving behind a decorative divider.

The chat goes wild, messages flying in faster than you can read them.

Yourmom69: OMG, this is everything!  

StarGazer88: She’s killing me!  

Retrofan23: I wanna bite into those calves!  

FrightenedFae: I’m gonna die from your beauty!!

You drape the robe over the divider, leaving you only in those tiny white shorts. Bakugou’s eyes narrow as he tries to catch a glimpse of you beyond the screen. He can feel his body tense up, his fists clenching and unclenching as he imagines what you’re doing just out of view. The way you casually reach for more lotion, the sound of your skin rubbing against the fabric, it’s all driving him crazy.

When you pick up your rob and finally emerge from behind the divider, your skin glistening, the chat erupts once again. The tips flood in, and you can’t help but smile at the overwhelming response.

Yourmom69: She’s glowing!  

StarGazer88: I can’t breathe!!  

GoldenSunset: Take all my money!  

FrightenedFae: I’m dead.  

Bakugou’s eyes stay locked on you as you move back to the bed, every movement slow and deliberate. The robe has slipped off one of your shoulders again, revealing just enough skin to make his pulse quicken. He’s never felt like this before, never been so captivated by someone, and it frustrates him how much he wants you.

His fingers tremble slightly as he picks up his phone, the desire to send you another message, another tip, burning in the back of his mind. He wants to be the one to spoil you, to have your attention, but he also wants more than just this screen between you.

As you settle back onto your bed, snuggling into your pillow, Bakugou feels a pang of jealousy. All these other viewers get to see this side of you, but he wants more. He wants to know you, to hold you, to be the one who makes you smile like that. 

He watches as you respond to the chat, your voice soft and teasing, your eyes sparkling with mischief. His heart aches with the realization that he’s falling for you, but for now, he’s content to just watch, to soak in every moment, and to dream of the day when he might have more than just pixels between you.

Bakugou blinked, realizing the time displayed on his tablet—1:00 AM. The fatigue was heavy in his body, but sleep still eluded him. He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the exhaustion tugging at him, but his mind was still racing, filled with thoughts of you.

Would you take a request without him sending any money? The idea felt ridiculous. He clenched his jaw, feeling the knots in his stomach tighten. Bakugou wasn't one to ask for favors, much less from someone he barely knew, but the thought nagged at him, refusing to let go. Before he could overthink it, he typed out a simple message and hit send, his heart pounding in his chest.

Back on your end, you were just getting settled back into your bed, the soft pillows cradling your head as you answered a few more questions from the chat. The tips had slowed down a bit, and the energy was starting to wind down as everyone began to relax with you. Your eyes skimmed over the messages, a soft smile playing on your lips as you responded.

 The chat is alive with comments and questions, but one message catches your eye.

Spiceman420: "I can't sleep. Can you help?"

Your heart goes out to the person behind the username. You understand what it feels like to struggle with sleep, especially when your mind won’t quiet down. You smile softly at the camera, your expression sympathetic. 

"Oh, I’m sorry to hear that you can’t sleep, Spiceman420," you say gently. "What can I do to help you out?"

The chat buzzes with activity as you wait for his response, your eyes scanning the messages flying in.

Yourmom69 : Aww, how sweet! LunarDreamer : She’s such a caring person! Retrofan23 : Maybe a bedtime story? FrightenedFae: Some soft music, maybe?

You glance back at the screen, waiting for Spiceman420 to reply, genuinely wanting to help him relax and find some peace.

On the other side of the screen, Bakugou feels his heart rate spike. He hadn’t expected you to notice his message so quickly, let alone respond so kindly. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and types out his request, hoping it isn’t too much to ask.

Your eyes light up as you see his next message pop up.

Spiceman420: "Could you maybe just talk for a bit? About anything."

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Of course, I can do that. Sometimes just hearing someone’s voice can be really soothing." You adjust your position on the bed, making yourself comfortable, and begin to speak, your voice gentle and calming.

"I’ll tell you about my day then," you start, settling in. "My bestie and I spent hours putting together some new furniture for my bedroom. It’s looking really cute now. I tried cooking some stir fry but ended up setting off the smoke alarm."

As you continue talking, you notice the chat reacting positively, your viewers appreciating the more personal glimpse into your life.

Bakugou leans back against his bed, his eyes closing as he listens to you. Your voice is soothing, a gentle lull that begins to ease the tension in his body. He can almost picture the room you’re describing, imagining the warmth and comfort of it.

You keep going, answering a few more questions from your viewers, occasionally glancing at the screen to see the messages coming in.

Yourmom69 : That sounds lovely! StarGazer88 : Can we see the room again sometime? Retrofan23 : I bet it looks amazing! FrightenedFae: I love pink sheets!

You smile, feeling a sense of connection with your audience. "Maybe I’ll do a room tour tomorrow," you say playfully. "But for now, let’s just relax together. Is there anything else you’d like to hear about, Spiceman420?"

You wait for his response, genuinely wanting to help him feel at ease, your voice continuing to be a soothing presence in the night. The chat immediately responded with supportive comments.

Yourmom69 : That’s so sweet of you! StarGazer88 : I love this idea! Retrofan23 : Spiceman’s lucky! VelvetRose: You’re such a sweetheart, helping everyone like this.

As you waited for Spiceman420’s response, you adjusted your robe, pulling it a bit tighter around you for comfort. The soft glow from the candles cast a warm light across your room, making the pink bedsheets look even more inviting. You shifted slightly on your bed, the plush mattress sinking just enough to cradle you comfortably.

Meanwhile, Bakugou was staring at his tablet, his heart thudding in his chest. He hadn't expected you to respond so quickly, or with so much warmth. He bit his lip, his fingers hovering over the screen as he considered what to say. Before he could overthink it, he typed a simple, “Whatever works for you” and hit send. He set his phone down on his lap, his leg bouncing slightly with restless energy as he waited.

Your eyes flicked to the screen, catching his response. A soft smile curled on your lips. "Alright, Spiceman," you said gently, your voice warm and soothing. "Let’s see what we can do."

Before you could continue, another notification pinged in the chat.

FrightenedFae just tipped $700.

Your eyes widened slightly, not at the amount—though it was generous—but at the message that came with it: 

"Can you talk like it’s a girlfriend audio? Something to help us all wind down?"

You glanced at the camera, a thoughtful look on your face. This wasn’t an uncommon request, but it was always a bit different depending on the person. You wanted to make sure Spiceman420 was comfortable with it, given the situation.

"Wow, thank you so much, FrightenedFae," you said, your voice genuine. "That’s really generous of you. I’ll definitely do that, but I want to make sure it's okay with Spiceman first." You looked directly into the camera, your expression softening. "Spiceman, would that be alright with you?"

Bakugou stared at the screen, feeling a strange mix of emotions. This wasn’t what he’d expected, but he found himself typing, "Yeah, go ahead."

He didn’t know why he was letting himself get so wrapped up in this, but there was something about your voice, your presence, that made him feel… calmer, more centered.

Seeing his response, you nodded. “Alright then, let’s do this.” You adjusted your position on the bed, reclining back against the pillows, and let your voice drop into a lower, smoother tone. There was a slight rasp to it, a warm, comforting quality that made it feel like you were right there beside him. It wasn’t sexual, but there was an intimacy to it that felt personal, genuine.

“Hey,” you began, your voice soft and soothing. “I know it’s late, and you’re probably feeling pretty tired, maybe even a little restless. But that’s okay. We’re gonna wind down together, alright? Just take a deep breath for me… and let it out slowly.” You inhaled and exhaled, bust moving with your gentle breaths. 

Bakugou’s eyes widened, his breath hitching in his throat. He found himself unconsciously following your instructions, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, his body already beginning to relax.

“Now,” you continued, “before you get too comfy, make sure you’ve got everything you need for the night. Did you drink some water? Maybe grab a little snack, something light. I don’t want you to go to bed hungry. And if you haven’t brushed your teeth yet, now’s a good time to do that too. Just take care of yourself, okay?”

The chat was going to kill your phone again.

Yourmom69 : I’m getting up right now, queen! StarGazer88 : You’re too good to us! Retrofan23 : I don’t wanna leave my bed, but I’ll do it for you! FrightenedFae: This is exactly what I needed tonight, thank you!

Bakugou’s mind was spinning. He felt ridiculous for actually considering getting up, but your voice had a way of making him want to do what you said. He let out a soft, resigned groan and pushed himself up from the bed. Grabbing a granola bar from his kitchen, he unwrapped it and took a bite, chewing slowly as he continued listening to you.

“Good job,” you praised, your voice dripping with warmth and encouragement. “Now, when you’re ready, get yourself back to bed. Make sure you’re comfortable, get under those covers, and just let your body relax. You’ve done everything you needed to today. It’s time to let yourself rest.”

Fuck it was like you could see him. 

Bakugou finished the granola bar and downed a glass of water, feeling oddly obedient as he brushed his teeth. He didn’t even know why he was listening to you, but something about the way you spoke made it easy to just… go along with it. Maybe if he tricked his body into following your advice, he’d finally be able to sleep.

As he climbed back into bed, he pulled his tablet closer, your stream still playing as he settled in. The tension in his chest had lessened, and for the first time that night, he felt like maybe, just maybe, sleep might actually come.

As you continued, fully embracing the role of a comforting presence, Bakugou found himself removing his shirt, the cool air brushing against his skin as he settled back into bed. He watched you intently, your voice still playing through his tablet as you lay down, adjusting the camera to a more intimate angle.

The chat was buzzing with questions, the most popular one catching your eye:

StarGazer88: Do you prefer to sleep with or without clothes?

A sly smile crossed your lips as you considered the question, your eyes glancing at the camera. "Without, if I'm being honest," you admitted with a playful tone. "But it really just depends on the night. I love sleeping with the fan on, so sometimes it can get pretty cold."

You gave the camera a knowing look before slipping off the bed, disappearing for a moment. The chat was alive with speculation, everyone trying to guess what you were up to. Bakugou leaned closer to his screen, his brows furrowing in curiosity.

When you returned, the sight made Bakugou almost sit up so quickly that he nearly hit his head on the bedframe. You were wearing an oversized "Ground Zero" t-shirt, the black fabric swallowing your frame, the iconic hero logo printed across your chest. It hung loosely on you, the hem almost reaching your thighs.

Bakugou’s heart skipped a beat. That shirt—his shirt—on you? It was like a punch to his gut, but in the best way possible. Seeing you wear something with his brand, something that represented him, made him feel something he hadn’t expected—possessiveness mixed with a strange, warm pride.

The chat erupted with excitement.

Yourmom69 : OMG that shirt is so cute on you! FrightenedFae : Look at that merch! Represent! Retrofan23 : Where can we get that shirt?! StarGazer88: Ground Zero fan confirmed!! 😍

You smiled sweetly at the comments, clearly enjoying the reaction. "It’s one of my favorites," you confessed, adjusting the shirt slightly as you crawled back onto your bed. "So comfy. And it’s perfect for nights like this."

Bakugou couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. Seeing you all dolled up at the club had been one thing, but this—this was different. It was intimate, personal. You looked so relaxed, so natural in his shirt, and it did something to him. He felt like he was seeing a side of you that no one else got to see, a softer, sweeter version that was a stark contrast to the poised, alluring figure you presented at the club.

You settled down onto the bed, placing your phone next to your pillow. Your voice dropped to a soft, soothing tone as you began to hum a quiet melody, something gentle and comforting. "You all are so sweet," you murmured, the warmth in your voice palpable. "Thank you so much for being here with me tonight, for all your tips, your kind words… I really appreciate it. Make sure to join me tomorrow, okay?"

Bakugou’s breath hitched as he watched you, his eyes glued to the screen. That shirt looked so oversized on you, making you seem so much smaller, so much more… his. He knew it was crazy, that it was just a piece of clothing, but seeing you in it felt like a special treat, a glimpse into something more personal.

He barely noticed the time slipping by, so captivated by the sight of you snuggled into your bed, wearing his merch, humming softly as if you were already half-asleep. It was so different from your usual stream persona—this was you, in your element, in your space. And for Bakugou, that made all the difference.

He clenched his fists, trying to steady the chaotic mix of emotions swirling inside him. There was something about this moment that made him want to be the only one watching, the only one who got to see you like this. It was irrational, possessive, but he couldn’t help it.

For now, though, he just let himself enjoy the sight of you in his shirt, knowing that this was something special—something he wanted to keep close, just for himself.

You continued to hum softly, your voice a gentle lullaby, Bakugou’s eyes grew heavier with each passing moment. He barely noticed the time slipping by as he lay back against his pillow, the cool night air from the open window brushing against his skin. The sound of your voice, warm and soothing, wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, lulling him into a peaceful state he hadn’t felt in a long time.

His tablet rested on his chest, the screen dimming as the stream continued. More than half the viewers had already given their final tips, sending heart emojis and sweet messages before quietly exiting the stream, thinking you were on the verge of sleep. Bakugou’s breath slowed, his eyes fluttering shut as your soft words continued to echo in his mind.

“Thank you for being here with me tonight,” you whispered, your voice barely audible now, like a quiet breeze. “Sleep well, everyone.”

Those last words drifted through his mind as he finally succumbed to his exhaustion. His breathing evened out, the tension in his body melting away as he drifted into sleep, your voice still playing softly in the background.

But what Bakugou didn’t see—what none of the remaining viewers saw—was the shadowed figure that appeared behind you. As you lay still on your bed, seemingly asleep, the figure leaned over, careful and deliberate. A hand reached out, gently grabbing your phone from the pillow.

The stream abruptly ended.

The screen on Bakugou’s tablet turned black, signaling the end of the broadcast. But he was already deep in sleep, oblivious to what had just happened, lost in a dream where your voice was the only thing that mattered.

In the dark room, the figure stepped back, the phone in hand, as the glow from the screen faded into nothingness.

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

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie If you wanna be added lemme know!

Chapter 1 is here Chapter 2 is here.

Chapter 3 is here

That was the first chapter! So far there are 9 posted on my ao3 account.

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[scarlet-ancunin]

♡You Love Me To♡

A/N: The song below inspired the fic for me

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

" I Care About you to"

Those five words rang through the vampire spawns head over and over. They really like me. Astarion was sitting alone in his tent thinking about it. Of course the events that happened after struck something he didn't think was possible... but was it.... Love... from such a simple moment between them such a simple hold.

It wasn't forced but gentle. It didn't have strings attached- wanting something in return... no it was a genuine feeling of love and care that came with that simple gesture of affection. He enjoyed it he wanted to feel more of that.

After 200 years of abuse from Cazador, locking him in the dark with nothing, feeding on rats and bugs he forced him to eat, trying to break his mind, using his looks and his body to bring him poor helpless souls to his lair. Like lambs for the slaughter. And he was the cause of it all. He had many lovers or rather flings but at this moment the only person who stayed on his mind was You. You were special in ways he couldn't understand and that probably is what led to his original plan of using you to fail miserably.

He realized while skimming through the same page in his book that more than anything he wanted to see you smile more because of him. Its probably what led to this sudden idea to walk towards the tent that occupied the "blade of frontiers".

'This is a stupid idea' the pale elf thought while approaching the man cradling a goblet of wine looking up. Astarion cleared his throat to catch the mans attention. "Oh? Astarion a rare occurrence to be visiting me at such an hour what do you need?"

Astarion also found wyll more annoying then he care to admit out loud but right now he was the only one he could... Trust with this little idea. "I...I need a favor I'll gladly pay you back later but i need your help can you help me?" Astarion says this with a vague motion and a simple wave of his hand.

Wyll ever the "hero" agrees "sure but what does this favor intel?" Astarion suddenly found the dirt on the ground more interesting avoiding eye contact. "Astarion?" Wyll asked softly but a hint of curiosity.

"Can you teach me... ugh can you teach me how to, well, dance" that was all Astarion said nothing more nothing less and certainly not sharing his reasons for this request. Wyll was surprised "Astarion you don't know how to dance?"

The vampire glares at the man suddenly "i wouldn't have ask for the damn favor if i did" seeing Wyll frown made him pause and look away with a huff. "I- never really got around to it.. can you teach me?" He sounded more calmer slight hints of plea.

Wyll nods smiling "sure a man shouldn't miss the opportunity to show off not only his skills with the blade but also with movements of his body" Astarion grimaced at this before rolling his eyes. "We can practice at nights while everyone is asleep" he said before walking away quickly. Wyll blinks before chuckling low and retiring for the night.

-

Astarion was surprisingly a quick learner he watched each move just like he watched his prey before feeding. There was one problem... the man wanted to learn something a little but more romantic and rather closer.

"Ah as much as i like to prance around all day i was hoping for something a little more on the intimate side of things" Wyll gives him a knowing smile "fancy wooing someone in particular?"

Astarion plays ignorant "oh please i simply want to learn because it is a good skill that's all" he crossed his arms and tilts his head up towards the night sky eyes closed. Wyll hums low "well i suppose i don't need to show you because i taught you the good skills already"

Astarion was quick to change his tone "alright, alright it is to flatter someone I suppose" "anyone I know of?" Wyll asked enjoying this to much. The Pale elf rolled his eyes with a huff he mumbles out a soft maybe.

"Its Y/n isn't it?" Wyll said matter-of-fact and it annoyed Astarion to no end. He doesn't meet his gaze but Wyll knew he was right. "They will like you no matter if you dance or not Astarion i see the way they look at you with adoration not many hold such a gaze to anyone they didn't care about."

Astarion sighs pinching the bridge of his nose. "I am aware my looks draws-" Wyll cuts him off "its more than that Astarion even Halsin knows this" Wyll pressed and Astarion red eyes flicked between wylls devil eyes and the small fire they made far from the camp.

"Just teach me...." he stares at the man before him for a moment "please"

~

Luckily Astarion had fed the night before so he was happy and was able to be useful for the team consiting Himself, You, Gale and Halsin. Every time you wasn't paying attention behind you it was fine because the sound of a fast ice, fire or lightning arrow whizzed through the air landing strong damage on them.

Back at the camp Gale and Halsin made it their mission to make sure everyone else especially Scratch stayed occupied to give Astarion a moment alone with You which meant going far from the camp and taking a wine bottle and some simple food to snack on but most importantly the fancy music box he stoled from that pompous man when he wasn't looking.

Gentle laughter filled the air as Astarion mentioned how he stoled the music box giving a fake story of "how can you blame me I'm a victim to" and how gullible they were. Astarion smiles at you. A real one enjoying your laughter and company all the same. Its when he stood up walking to the tree truck with the misic box opened and ready. He gave the dial behind it a few twist and it started to hum to life.

You blush deeply when Astarion holds his hand out to you "may i have this dance" You stood up grinning like an idiot and nod taking his hand in yours "well i suppose you can" you teased playfully before you both slowly began to dance to the soft tune.

It was perfect you thought to yourself looking up at him getting lost in those crimson eyes of his. His smile was sharp and while he doesn't like when you mention the crease of his smile to him, it always made you admire him more. What he assumed was imperfect meant so much to you.

He twirls you slowly and then dips you smiling lightly "your full of surprises my love" you said softly smiling up at him then giggle before moving in closer and kissing him passionately.

"I love you very much" he said softly before leaning his head on top of yours when you rest your head against his shoulder. The music a soft background to the moment you both are sharing.

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Narrator: hidden behind the trees and bushes silently observing the intimate scene before them was their loyal companions all supportive of their friends successful moment

As always i hope you like it, thanks for your support and requests are open for Astarion from BG3 😁❤️

[schlock-luster-video]

On April 22, 2022, Door to Door Maniac, Look in Any Window, Why Vandalism? Age 13 and Right or Wrong were screened on TCM Underground.

[writingoddess1125]

Dancing at Home

Soap, Ghost, Price, König x GNReader

Fluffy Fluff Unicorn Ass Fluff 🦄

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

Ghost-

Lounging in the livingroom you and Simon were listening to music and relaxing. He had gotten home a few days ago and had simply wanted to lounge about- it had been a hard few months for him and he wanted nothing more then to rest and be lazy. Which you happily supported.

That afternoon was no different, You were scrolling through your phone reading as Simon leaned back in his big chair what you assumed was him taking a nap- both of you full from the nice lunch he had cooked the both of you as music blared from the TV.

As you both enjoyed the domestic moment you heard the old song come on, Smiling softly as you began to softly sing along.

"Put your head on my shoulder~"

Simon opened one eye to peer at you, Hearing you sing along to the melody.

Simon stared at you, watching you sing along to the old song- His gaze softening as he rolled himself up from his chair and walked to you, still in his shorts and old shirt as he scooped you up.

"Simon?-" You question with a surprised Squeak as you are set carefully on your feet. He carefully wrapped his arms around you and began to sway the two of you together, a smile blooming on your face as you followed him- Letting the large man lead you.

"People say loves a game-"

He had a beautiful voice, deep and rich that seemed to fill the room. A gentle smile tugging on his lips as he knew you loved to hear him sing-

"A game you just can't win~"

You lay your head on Simon's big shoulder, smiling happily as the two of you rocked together your eyes closed as the world faded around you two.

"Whisper is my ear Baby~" He sings as he lays a kiss on your neck, whispering the line into your ear which makes your heart flutter.

"Tell me that you love me too" You sing back to him, He smiled down at you and placed a soft kiss on your lips. The two of you humming along to the sweet song once you pull away and just sway in each other's warm embrace.

Soap-

You stood in the livingroom cleaning up the area while listening to your music, humming along as you went- Johnny had had gotten home from deployment not too long ago and it had been a joy.

You'd missed him so much, him being away for so long periods with the injuries he always sported had hurt your heart everytime you saw it. Him being home now- everything was finally right... even if he was fucking messy-

You'd sent Johnny to clean out the shed which he used to hoard his many 'treasures' aka his junk. You'd taken up the livingroom since that had been were you had camped out when he was away-

Dancing around the livingroom as you picked up your clothes and sang along to the trashy club hit.

"Enjoying yourself?" Johnny chimed as he saw you standing there dancing.

Johnny began to laugh at this as he watched your rather terrible grinding motion- Doubling over in broken snorts and giggles.

"Baby Grind on me!" You sing out, rocking your hips in awful fashion which Johnny joined in of course- You'd never seen a person so bad at moving their knees before and laughed out a few more lyrics.

"I never noticed how dirty this song was actually" You giggle at you hear the lyrics and Johnny nods wiping away some tears.

"Very! Whipped cream and all" He laughed out as the two of you went down in the livingroom.

"Whats cherry drawe's?" He repeated not knowing the slang for it which made you laugh and keep the poor club dancing. He rocked his hips and tried to sexy way-

"You have to do the lip bite!" You protest which makes you both laugh and Johnny smooths his hand over his Mohawk and bites his bottom lip as he sings along.

"And ohhh your Grinding on Me!!" He sank/voice cracked out- his wheezing out a laugh immediately after as you start to laugh harder then you ever had before at the train wreck you'd just witnessed.

Tears rolling down your cheeks at how hard your laughing and quite literally have to take a kneel- Johnny was no better as he fell to his knees smacking the floor.

"I can't fucking breath!-" He wheezed out inbetween laughs as you nod in agreement. Johnny moving over after he was able to get in a few breaths and pulled you back up to your feet to pepper some kisses on you. You and Johnny giggling between kisses as he smiled and held you close.

"I love you" You say softly Johnny kissing you once more-

"I love you too~" He said softly, Rubbing your back as the two of you held each other. However Johnny gave you a mischievous wink and smiled.

"Wanna try out that whipped cream thing?~"

Price-

It was your night to cook dinner, staring the heavy pot of pasta as you drifted off in thought. You were so happy to have John back home- It was scary when he would leave for such long periods of time but you were just greatful he was here now-

The sound of music filling the house being evident of that.

John loved to collect records, he often blared them when he was home and usually smoking in the lounge-

Hearing the smooth sound of Stevie Wknder echo through the house lifted your mind of your worried state as you hummed while stiring dinner, unknowing of said Captian coming behind you to wrap himself around you. His arms tightening around your waist as he pressed his body against your back.

"That smells good" He hummed softly, Leaning his head on your shoulder as he enjoyed your warmth.

"It's your favorite, Ziti" You say with a smile hearing John's muffled humming as he pressed his lips to your shoulder. You hear the song on the record change and you feel John immediately sut up a bit more- This was his favorite afterall.

"I don't want to boorreee " John sings, he wasn't much of a singer but he often tried with you. You smiling widely at this and begin to hum along with him- swaying the two of you to the beat.

"With my troubles~" He sang as the two of you rocked together, Him pulling away enough to turn you drawing a giggle from you.

"There something about your love" you sing back at him as the two of you rock to the beat, looking up at your Goofy husband who was clearly having the time of his life.

"That Knocks me off My Feet-" He sang back, peppering hisses over your face as the two of you danced together.

"Oh but I love you I love you~" You both sing together, swaying with each other as he gives you a playful twirl.

And the two of you danced in the kitchen, in your own world. The sweet love of the Reckrds filling your home as the two of you moved together.

Till it shattered when the sound of the fire alarm going off in the flat shook you both from your dancing- Seeing the dark smoke rise from the shaking pot.

"Shit!" John yells as you scramble to turn off the now thoroughly burnt food and John cracking open a window and fanning the fire alarm with a mitten.

Both of you with stupid grins on your face as you look at each other and then what used to be pasta on the stove.

"How does Take Away sound?"

König-

You had been doing your hair that morning, having some errands to run later on that day so you wanted to get your hair out of the way.

Mainly wanting to go to the market to stock up on supplies since it was an hour drive to the nearest village and you Boyfriend hated going out there.

König was on leave for the next two months, saying he wasn't taking up any contracts since he wanted to spend some time with you which ment you needed to restock on everything since this man ate like a horse.

Which of course wasn't a problem since he was a damn giant- and a sweetheart wrapped in one perfect package. Grabbing the bottle of conditioner to add you groan as you feel it's lightness and realize it's empty.

"God Damn it-" You grumble, knowing König must have uses the last of it-

Secretly you were jealous- He had such pretty hair that he either buzzed or tossed away to deal with for another day. Only recently did he allow it to grow since you liked it so much- Silk like auburn curls that grew like a weed, In just a few short months it was long enough for him to throw in a small bun ontop his head.

While thinking about his hair your music changed and you began to hum along to the upbeat music which was about hair.

Thinking of how curly his hair was you couldn't help but smile-

"Konig! What is the word for Perm?" You called out, Hearing the heavy footsteps of your boyfriend making his way to the bathroom- dressed in only gray sweats and not sporting his usual mask he raised an eyebrow at you as his gray eyes watched your half ass dancing figure.

"Perm?" He questioned, clearly going through the rolladex of English words in his brain for a second.

"Er Dauerwelle- Why?"

You shrug and point to him mouthing the words, him smirking as he watched you get into the funky music. You take König's hands and start to move with the music, The large man awkwardly swaying with you.

You doing a rather unflattering shuffle while holding his hands to have him join you- You giving your poor attempt of a Michael Jackson spin which forced a laugh out of him.

"Theres that smile Im looking for! Now was that so hard?!" You say in perfect time with the song. He laughed at this as he smiled brightly and continued to shuffle with you.

"WOAH!!" You say in sync and start to laugh as the big man began to relax before you- Shuffling his feet to match yours with the best of his abilties.

You pat your own hair down and he mimics you to match the song while the both of you dance out of the bathroom and down the hall, the wood floors creaking over König heavy feet and heavy shuffle. The whole house being your guys dance floor as you both dance through it.

"You need to Activate you Sexy!" You both say and snap on time.

"Pat Pat Pat!!!" He touches his hair again and spins around to face you- understanding in his eyes as the song comes to a end.

"You think my hair looks permed!" He correctly accused making you smile brightly and laugh running from the big Austrian man who was now chasing you.

[juneberrie]

DATING NYSSA BARRERA ⋆.ೃ࿔*

word count: 0.5k || masterlist || fem!reader

author's note: i need a masc gf right now .can i find one on amazon or smth

nyssa is sooooooo gf guys!!!

nicknames for u include ma, mama, mami, princess/princesa, cariño, (mi) amor, mi vida, baby, sweet girl, & corazón mia

she's cheesy but only in private

matching jewelry!! she mostly just wears really simple things; thin gold chains, plain gold rings, etc, but she has one or two pieces that are more !!! and those are the ones that are matching with you

she'll have a tiny charm on her necklace of a heart with your initial on it!!!

if you've seen the tiktoks of girls making bracelets of each other's eye color? yeah you guys do that

takes 5 minutes to get ready and then she'll sit and watch you get ready

"ma r u almost done 😒" "nys i just started" and then she groans all dramatically

chair? no! you can sit on her lap <3

half of your dates are you sitting next to her talking her ear off as she works on something in the forge and is all "mhmmm <3"

GOD imagine her getting all fancy for a date. women in suits are so yummy i wanna [redacted]

anyways she takes you to a fancy restaurant (olive garden or smth) and then u guys just go on a walk and chill!!!

somehow always smells really good. like she smells like mont blanc cologne. thats really specific but i can just picture her smelling of either that or just something really warm and comforting

always touching you but it's subtle. a hand on your thigh, an arm around your waist, pinkies interlinked, little things like that.

does the driving thing when she's backing up. yk. the Thing

ur her passenger princess idc she will not let u drive ANYWHERE if she can help it

not the type to get jealous, but she's def protective

sidling up to anyone flirting w u like "who's this ma? friend of yours?" and hugs u from behind.

will combust if she sees you in her clothes. please steal her clothes. please. she will literally put her clothes in your room so you'll wear them. please.

speaking of her clothes 90% of her closet is cargo pants and tank tops. mostly black, white, green, and camo print + her bandana collection

SPEAKING OF HER BANDANA she'll give you one in your favorite color :(

you don't even have to wear it but she just likes knowing you have it <3

she's such a chill gf. im getting golden retriever fem gf + black cat masc gf vibes

love languages are quality time and physical touch <3

will make you playlists

most of the songs are along the vibes of — can't help falling in love by elvis presley, my girl by the temptations, love is strange by mickey & sylvia, put your head on my shoulder by paul anka, i love you always forever by donna lewis, kiss me by sixpence none the richer, i want to hold your hand by the beatles, i was made for lovin' you by kiss, etc

in conclusion nyssa barrera kiss me challenge

[figure45]

What do you think the poets’ favourite songs would be?

ooo this is fun cause i’ve thought about it

(all time period accurate btw)

I think that Neil’s favorite song would be I Get Along Without You Very Well by Chet Baker; I may be projecting but I feel like he loves yearning over nothing and this song is great for that

Todd’s would be Raining in my Heart by Buddy Holly; he would like this because he is very gay and has no boyfriend because he is not allowed to and Neil Perry is too dumb to know he likes him

Knox’s would be Put Your Head on my Shoulder by Paul Anka; Knox is very much into “old love”, he’s pretty sensitive and secretive about it but he just wants to feel like everyone else his age

Meeks’ would be You Send Me by Sam Cooke; I actually don’t really have an explanation for this it just feels right to me

Pitts’ would be If I Didn’t Care by the Ink Spots; ok this song is LITERALLY so Pitts coded. It’s passionate and obsessive and also the speaker of the song is lowkey just kind of insecure and that is very Pitts to me

Charlie’s would be Love Potion No.9 by The Clovers; I think he would make a game of finding the most explicit or provocative song on a record or on the radio and claiming that as his favorite; I also think beyond this he’d find a lot of traditional love songs very dull

Finally, Cameron’s would be Hound Dog by Elvis; I think that Cameron wouldn’t really be crazy about music and he’d tell everyone he doesn’t have a favorite song, but i also more heavily think that he’d be kind of a douche and really like what was seen as masculine music then. I think he’d sit around and listen to Elvis and Johnny Cash in secret and feel like a total badass (he isn’t) (still love him tho)

[ilovechuuy4]

˙˚ "This is not a puppy love?" ˚˙

˒Chuuya N. X GN! Reader˓❦

A/N; okay I guess people are just obsessed with chuuya??? (Me too) but the results from my pole were indeed chuuya (click “pole” to see the pole obvi) but all of this is going so slow bc I'm having to go to different goddamn doctors for heart/health reasons pls bare with me🙏 (got the name and idea in general bc I was listening to duh, puppy love by Paul Anka:3

→ Description; The "puppy love" at 17 wasn't puppy love.?

ᰔ Lyrics; "How could I ever tell them?" "This is not a puppy love~"

❋��➷

You and Chuuya were sat on yalls couch in the house the both of you shared watching TV, it was one of those old romances with puppy love. It was actually pretty good but it made you think if the "puppy love" you and chuuya had when y'all were around 17. But now that you think about it, for you at least, it wasn't a puppy love, you did and still do love Chuuya but did he really still feel the same?

You scootch a but closer to the blue eyed ginger that was on the right side of you, and rest your head on his shoulder. He glances over at you and smiles softly, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Tired, Y/N?" He spoke smoothly, his eyes not leaving the scene on the TV.

"A bit.” You muttered, you wanted to ask him about the "puppy love" or well crush, y'all had on each other when y'all were younger but it felt too awkward. A few hours pass as you glance over at Chuuya who was very invested in the show playing on tv.

You then decided to just ask, you tap his shoulder which then causes him to avert his gaze from the TV and to you instead. "Yes?" His raspy voice rang in your ears, you bit your lip before asking the question. "Chuuya, about the uh, crush we had on each other, when we were in high school." you take a deep breathe and then continue.

“When we were in high school, the crushes we have on each other, do..you still have that “crush”..?” You ask your voice hardly over a whisper. Chuuya cocks an eyebrow, “When we had crushes on each other well I mean, when I liked you it was pretty serious but I don’t think I have them anymore that I know of.?” He admitted and then continued.

“Why do you ask?” You swallow hard, your hands trembling a bit. “Well, if I told you I, still had those feelings would you, consider it again?” You mutter before averting your gaze away from Chuuya’s.

Chuuya’s eyes widen a bit when you mention you might still have feelings for him, he wasn’t uncomfortable just shocked. “Do, you still have feelings for me.?” He asked, biting his lip softly. Your face was cherry red when chuuya asked that question.

"I..yea I do still have feelings for you." You admit, it was embarrassing but you obviously couldn't hold your true feelings for much longer. Chuuya gently cups your face his hands warm on your face.

"How could I ever tell them.?" Chuuya mutters, he was referring the the friends he's spoke about you too, he always made it seem like you and him were just close friends and he'd always get mad when his friends say him and you looked like a couple.

Chuuya bites his lip harder before speaking again, "that was not? A puppy love?" He mutters leaning in slightly. "This is not, a puppy love." You say, leaning in a kissing Chuuya slow and passionate.

Chuuya kisses back, it lasts for a minutes, the taste of wine still on chuuya's tongue and you could taste it so vividly. He slowly pulls away, a hum from his throat. "Oh I love you so much darlin'. " He murmurs, closing his eyes and kissing you again.

[eternalfarae]

Fallen into Darkness|R.indou Haitani

In a world where power and obsession intertwine, Y/N finds herself ensnared in the dark web of Rindou Haitani, a charming yet dangerous mayor with a sinister agenda. As she navigates his twisted affections, she uncovers the horrifying secrets hidden behind the facade of authority. The allure of Rindou's charm quickly turns into a suffocating nightmare, where loyalty is demanded and betrayal lurks in the shadows. Will Y/N break free from the chains of manipulation, or will she become just another victim in Rindou's playground of despair?

Enter if you dare.

Heyaa, it's your author Farae! And we're starting strong with warnings‼️🙌

warnings:

nsfw

Swearing

Dark themes

Killing/murder

Non-consensual sex

Gore

Hitting/punching

Any sort of violence

Bdsm

Obsession

Stalking

Using of politics power

Criminal organization

Self harm

Please message me right away when I'm missing any warnings that's written on this chapter !! Thank you so much.

Characters details

Y/N (She/Her)

Appearance: Eye color and hair color are changeable (based on reader’s choice).

Characteristics: Naive, quiet, and emotionally vulnerable. She is easily manipulated, yet her silence hides a deeper strength waiting to emerge.

Status: Single, though emotionally trapped by Rindou's manipulation.

Rindou Haitani

Appearance: Tall, lean build with purple eyes, a blue-dyed mullet, and glasses. His tattoo on the neck signifies his ties to Bonten.

Characteristics: Charismatic, dangerous, and manipulative. He uses his position of power to control and dominate.

Status: Single but possessively fixated on Y/N.

Other Bonten Members (Supporting Roles)

Mikey (Manjiro Sano)

Appearance: Pale skin, platinum blonde hair, and dark, intense eyes. He wears formal suits, reflecting his leadership role.

Characteristics: The quiet and enigmatic leader of Bonten, always composed and in control.

Ran Haitani: Rindou's older brother, calculating with a carefree attitude.

Sanzu Haruchiyo: Loyal and unpredictable, always hovering in the background.

Kokonoi Hajime: The financial brain, rarely involved in direct action but influential.

Songs/lyrics:

"Bust Your Kneecaps" by Pomplamoose.

"Johnny, don't leave me, you said you'd love me forever, honey, believe me"

"Daddy Issues" by The Neighbourhood

"Go ahead and cry, little girl, nobody does it like you do. I know how much it matters to you."

"Every Breath You Take" by The Police

"Oh, can't you see

You belong to me?

How my poor heart aches

With every step you take?"

"Put Your Head On My Shoulders"

by Paul Anka

"Put your head on my shoulder

Hold me in your arms, baby

Squeeze me oh-so-tight

Show me that you love me too"

Notice

Tokyo revengers belongs to Ken Wakui, any similarities of the plot of my story to the anime Tokyo revengers are only coincidence.

all of the artworks in here belongs to the rightful owner, if any concern please message me.

This book belongs to me, any copy of my book and post it to a platform (Wattpad,tumblr,AO3 etc..) would face plagiarism, plagiarism is heavily punished by the law so don't even bother to copy my work, thanks!

Please read the warnings before you start reading this, I placed all the correct warning that is needed before reading this, any harmful effects on you would not be my responsibility but yours.

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

You woke up early, the anticipation of the day weighing heavily on your chest. The sun had barely cracked through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. You slipped out of bed, your bare feet hitting the cool, wooden floorboards as you began to get ready. The interview with Mayor Rindou Haitani's office was today. Your heart fluttered at the thought of continuing your dad's legacy, his proud smile flashing in your mind's eye as he talked about his days working for Mayor Haitani. The weight of expectation was palpable, but you were determined to make him proud.

You stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over your skin as you contemplated the task ahead. The scent of mint from your shampoo filled the small bathroom, a refreshing contrast to the nerves coiling in your stomach. You took your time, scrubbing every inch of your body, as if by doing so you could scrub away the doubts that plagued you. Afterward, you stepped out and wrapped yourself in a warm towel, feeling slightly more prepared to face the day.

In front of the mirror, you combed through your hair, taming the unruly strands into a sleek, professional style that mirrored your dad's meticulous grooming habits. The reflection staring back at you was a blend of excitement and apprehension. Your eyes, the same shade as your hair, searched for the strength your father had once possessed. The interview with Mayor Haitani was more than just a job; it was a chance to step into his shadow and carry on his legacy. You applied your makeup with precision, the strokes of the brush a silent promise to honor his name.

Your outfit, a sharp blazer over a crisp white shirt, was a deliberate choice. It whispered of your determination to succeed, to be taken seriously in this male-dominated world. You slipped on the matching skirt and heels, the fabric whispering against your skin as you moved. The ensemble was a silent declaration of your readiness to face the challenges that awaited you in the political arena.

The moment you stepped into the mayor's building, your breath caught in your throat. It was a monolith of power and prestige, the grandeur of its architecture a stark contrast to the gritty streets outside. The polished marble floors echoed the clack of your heels, each step a reminder of the weight of the opportunity before you. The high ceilings, adorned with intricate frescoes, whispered of the countless deals and alliances forged in these hallowed halls. You felt both insignificant and empowered, a mere speck in the grand tapestry of the city's history.

You couldn't help but feel a swell of pride as you moved through the bustling corridors. The air was thick with ambition, the scent of freshly printed paper and expensive cologne mingling with the faint metallic tang of fear. Your father had once walked these very halls, his footsteps echoing yours. The thought fueled a determination deep within you, a fire that burned away the last vestiges of doubt. You were here to claim your place, to prove that you were worthy of the legacy he had left behind.

A girl, not much older than you, with a no-nonsense bob and piercing green eyes, approached you with the air of someone who had seen too much. She wore the uniform of the mayor's office, her movements sharp and efficient as she led you to the interview room. Her eyes flicked over you, assessing and cold. It was clear she had seen many hopefuls come and go, their dreams crumpled like the discarded papers littering the recycling bins. Yet, she offered a tight smile, the corners of her lips lifting slightly to reveal a hint of kindness. Perhaps she recognized the steel in your gaze, the unshakeable resolve that had brought you here.

The interview room was a stark contrast to the grandeur of the lobby. It was small and functional, the walls a neutral shade that could've been beige or grey in a different light. A single window offered a glimpse of the bustling city, the sun's rays cutting through the grime to cast a square of brightness on the floor. The desk was clear of clutter, a single sheet of paper and a pen the only indication of what was to come. The chair opposite was slightly too big for the room, its leather worn in a way that suggested it had seen many nervous applicants.

The girl with the bob—whose nameplate read 'Cheri'—gave you a curt nod before leaving, her heels echoing down the corridor until the door clicked shut behind her. The silence was almost deafening, the tick of the clock on the wall a metronome counting down the seconds to your fate. You took a deep breath, willing your racing heart to slow and your shaking hands to steady. This was it, the moment you had been preparing for, the culmination of a lifetime of dreams.

You rolled your shoulders back, standing tall as you approached the chair. As you sat, the leather creaked slightly, groaning under your weight like it had borne witness to countless souls before you. The pen in your hand felt heavier than it had any right to be, a tool that could either grant you a future or relegate you back to the sidelines. With a deep breath, you began to scribble notes on the pad provided, recalling your father's words of wisdom and the stories of his own interviews. His spirit felt close, as if he were whispering encouragement from just beyond the veil.

The door to the interview room swung open with a soft whoosh, breaking the oppressive silence like a dam giving way. Two guards flanked Mayor Rindou Haitani as he strode in, his pinkish-purple mullet bobbing with each step. He was a towering figure, his presence dominating the small space, and the scent of his cologne, a blend of leather and sandalwood, filled the room. You couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement as his eyes met yours, a heady mix of fear and attraction. It was like looking into the face of a mythical beast, one that could either bestow a great gift or devour you whole.

As you and the other interviewees bowed in respect, Rindou paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. There was a flicker of something in those purple eyes, a recognition that sent a shiver down your spine. He bent down slightly, his movements surprisingly graceful for a man of his size, and you felt the warmth of his breath against your cheek as he whispered, "I know you." His voice was velvet over gravel, a contradiction that sent your heart racing. The shock of his words hit you like a sledgehammer, but you couldn't help the small smile that curved your lips. How could he know you? You had only seen him from afar, in photographs and on the news, never up close.

The other candidates looked on, their expressions a mix of confusion and envy. The air thickened with tension as the guards stepped aside, allowing Rindou to approach you. He offered his hand, and as you took it, his grip was firm and warm, his nails perfectly manicured. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and for a moment, the rest of the room faded away. "We've met before," he said, his smile widening to reveal gleaming teeth. "Your father was a good man. He had a way of making everyone feel like they mattered." His words were a balm to your soul, a gentle caress that made you want to lean into his warmth.

The other applicants' whispers grew louder, their curiosity piqued by the special treatment you were receiving. You felt a blush creep up your neck, and you swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself. "Y/N, isn't it?" His voice was like a caress, and you nodded, your voice a mere whisper. "Yes, Mayor Haitani." He waved his hand dismissively at the others. "Thank you all for coming, but it seems I've found what I'm looking for." The room erupted into a cacophony of protests, but Rindou's gaze never left yours. The guards ushered the other hopefuls out, the door shutting with a definitive click that echoed in your ears.

You remained seated, your hand still in his, unable to move or speak. "Your father was a dear friend," he continued, his eyes holding yours with a strange intensity. "He spoke of you often, of your potential." His words were a warm embrace, wrapping around you like a blanket on a cold night. The mention of your father brought a lump to your throat, but you managed to smile. "Thank you, Mayor." He released your hand, and you felt the sudden chill of his absence. "Please, call me Rindou."

That evening, you found yourself unable to sleep. The events of the day played on repeat in your mind, a whirlwind of excitement and trepidation. Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen illuminating your darkened room. It was your mom, video calling from your childhood home, her eyes filled with concern and hope. "How did it go?" she asked, her voice crackling with the distance. Your heart swelled with emotion as you recounted your encounter with Mayor Haitani—now, Rindou. You watched as her expression shifted from worried to proud, her smile lighting up the screen.

Your father's face appeared beside hers, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he listened intently. "He knew me?" you whispered, still unable to believe that this powerful man had recognized you. Your father's smile grew wider. "Of course he did, sweetheart. You're your mother's and my legacy. You have the strength of a thousand suns." His words brought tears to your eyes, and you felt the warmth of his love even from the other side of the world.

Your mother's hand reached out and took your father's, their fingers entwining in a silent display of unity. "Your dad always knew you'd do great things, Y/N," she said softly. "He's watching over you, and I know he's proud."

The call ended, and the room was once again plunged into silence. You stared at the now-blank screen, the weight of their expectations settling heavily on your shoulders. Your thoughts drifted to Rindou's intense gaze, the way he had singled you out. It was as if he saw something in you, something that resonated with the power he wielded. The thrill of his attention was intoxicating, but beneath it lay a thread of fear. What did he want from you? What kind of games did he play?

You pushed those dark thoughts aside, focusing instead on your mother’s words. Rindou was a kind man, wasn't he? A mayor who had helped countless individuals in the city, bringing light to the shadowy corners that the law had abandoned. He had built orphanages, funded community programs, and even personally assisted in disaster relief efforts. The news often painted him as a beacon of hope, a man who had clawed his way to the top despite his humble beginnings. Your heart swelled at the thought of working alongside such a figure, contributing to the greater good.

The following days passed in a blur of orientation and training, the office a whirlwind of faces and information. You tried to ignore the whispers that followed you, the curious glances of the other employees who knew of your special relationship with Rindou. They whispered of his kindness, of his fierce protection of those he considered his own. The more you saw of him, the more you felt drawn to his magnetic charm, his aura of power a siren’s call you couldn’t resist.

Yet, there was an underlying tension in his interactions with others. The way his eyes narrowed when someone spoke out of turn, the way his smile could turn cold in an instant. It was a stark reminder that while he may be charming, he was also a man to be feared. You pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on learning the ropes of your new job. Each day brought new challenges, but with Rindou’s guidance, you felt capable of overcoming them.

Night after night, you found yourself working long after everyone else had gone home. The office was eerily quiet, the only sound the rhythmic clack of your keyboard and the soft hum of the air conditioner. The glow of your computer screen cast an ethereal light across the desk, painting your face in shadows. The darkness outside the window was a stark contrast to the vibrant city that had existed just hours earlier, the buildings now silent sentinels in the moonlit night. The occasional passing car or distant siren was a comforting reminder that you weren’t entirely alone in the vast emptiness of the night.

As you typed away, you felt the weight of the city’s troubles resting on your shoulders. Each email, each document, a puzzle piece in the grand scheme of keeping the city afloat. You were the invisible hand that worked tirelessly behind the scenes, ensuring that the mayor’s vision became a reality. The clock ticked on, the hands of time seemingly moving slower in the solitude. Yet, the work was oddly comforting, a distraction from the chaos that was your personal life.

The office was a cocoon of darkness, with only the soft glow of your computer screen to keep you company. The digital world it illuminated was your sanctuary, a stark contrast to the shadows that danced on the walls. The light cast an eerie glow, painting your fingers a pale blue as they flew over the keys. The quiet hum of the air conditioner was a soothing lullaby, drowning out the distant whispers of the city that never slept.

And then he was there, a sudden burst of light and sound as the door to the office swung open with a bang. Your heart leapt into your throat, a silent scream dying on your lips, until you recognized the mischievous grin that belonged to your friend from earlier, Chifuyu. He chuckled, a bottle of energy drink dangling from his fingertips. "Thought you could pull an all-nighter without me, huh?" His laughter echoed through the deserted corridor, bouncing off the walls before it reached your ears.

Relief flooded through you, turning into a shaky smile as he sauntered over to your desk. The crunch of his sneakers against the marble floor was oddly comforting, grounding you back to reality. "You scared the shit out of me," you admitted, your voice shaking slightly. He set the bottle down with a thud, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Couldn't resist the urge to mess with the newbie," he teased, his grin never faltering.

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension in your chest easing as you grabbed the energy drink from the desk. Cracking it open, you took a grateful sip, feeling the sweet, bitter liquid jolting you back to alertness. "So, what's the plan for tonight?" you asked, trying to keep the nerves out of your voice. Chifuyu leaned back in his chair, his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up, revealing a hint of ink peeking out from under his shirt. "More of the same," he said with a shrug. "But don't worry, I've got us some snacks." He pulled out a bag of chips from his desk drawer, offering you some. The salty scent filled the air, and your stomach rumbled in response.

As the night went on, your friendship with Chifuyu grew stronger. His stories of growing up in the rougher parts of the city painted a vivid picture of the world you had only seen from the safety of your father's side. He spoke of a world where strength was measured by your ability to survive, not by the number of degrees you had or the family you were born into. His words were raw, unfiltered, and painted a stark contrast to the pristine office you now occupied. It was a stark reminder of the responsibilities that came with your new position, the realities that lurked just outside the gleaming doors of the mayor's office.

continued ver at Wattpad: