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tommykinard217 · 2 days ago

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(a thanksgiving ficlet that got away from me lol. Happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate, I love you all! )

Holidays were never really all that special to Tommy. When he was a kid, holidays were tense affairs. Thanksgiving dinners made by his mom that his dad would nitpick at. The man didn't even sit at the table with him and his ma, his face turned towards the football game as he shouted that the turkey was too dry, the mashed potatoes too lumpy, the gravy too watery.

Tommy had never really thought there was anything wrong with the food, but his dad was never really happy about anything to begin with.

Tommy never really existed during the holidays. It was like he was a ghost. At first, when he was younger, he tried to decorate and cheer his parents up and help around the house. Anything to make them smile. But it didn't work. So eventually, when he was a teenager, he just stopped trying.

He either stayed in his room or he got out of the house, taking his bike to the river and just sitting on the river bank, looking across the water. By the time he got home, the food would be packed away as leftovers. There wasn't a plate set aside for him.

Then his ma passed and there was no one to make thanksgiving dinner.

Once again, the river was his friend. He contemplated getting a fishing license, so that he could actually do something other than stare at the current of the river as it crashed against the rocks and mini island formations.

By the time he got home, the house was dark, his dad passed out on the couch surrounded by empty beer cans. Tommy had felt the urge to clean up, maybe mitigate whatever possible anger his dad would build up in the morning. But he didn't really care. His dad would be angry regardless, and he'd still feel as alone as ever even with his dad screaming in his face and threatening him with punishments he was too old for at this point.

Eventually he enlisted. Anything to get away from his dad and the metaphorical ghost of his ma haunting the kitchen.

In the army, there was no river to bike alongside. No riverbank where he could sit down, and stare across the water. Just dirt and noise and shitty MRE's. Somehow it didn't feel all that different from the thanksgivings of his childhood.

Then, he was out of the army. He had a choice. Go back to his shitty town on a shitty river, haunted by his dad and his ma. Or go somewhere else. Somewhere different.

Different won out, for once. So he packed up what little shit he had and made his way to LA of all places. Signed up to a firefighting academy. He needed the structure the army gave him, and he'd actually get to help people this time.

Once he was out, he got assigned a firehouse. The 118. Gerrard was just like his father, minus the alcohol. Cruel, exacting, looking for a flaw in everything you did. Tommy knew how to handle Gerrard, and that was to just ride him out. Let him yell, let him get angry and threaten you. Don't react, don't talk back. Just let it happen until he tires himself out.

Thanksgiving with the 118 once again was the same as any other year. Shitty takeout instead of MRE's or leftovers, but other than that, it was all the same. Thankfully the job kept him busy.

Too many people thought they were immune to flame and oil and their own general stupidity, and the amount of turkey induced fires they had to put out was steadily climbing. Each year they seemed to break a new record.

Every year was the same. Tommy was alone or lonely or both, he scarfed down shitty food, and it was just another day to him.

And then Evan came around. Evan with his bright smile and warm demeanor. Evan with his endless facts and his strong hugs. Just...Evan.

And Tommy had been certain that maybe this thanksgiving was going to be different.

And maybe that was his mistake.

He was a coward, after all. All his life he had just run away. To the river, as a kid. The army, as an adult. The West Coast, after he was discharged. All he ever did was run.

And so, here he was. His first thanksgiving off, staring at the takeout he bought, trying to remind himself that this was normal. For him, at least. He was used to this.

Granted, the guilt was eating him up. He'd stared at his phone for what felt like hours, trying to figure out what to say. I'm sorry? I miss you? Take me back, I'm miserable without you? None of those were acceptable. He broke things off. He ran away. Ev-Buck deserved better.

But right as he was about to sit down, maybe watch a movie or two, his doorbell rang.

As he walked to the door, he wondered on who it could be. A neighbor? Someone asking for charity donations? A Mormon?

But it wasn't any of those.

It was Evan.

Hands shoved in his pocket, looking nervous but determined.

"Come on, you're missing out on dinner." Evan pointed to his jeep, waiting for them.

Tommy was, understandably, fucking baffled. "Wait, what?"

Evan sighed, rolling his eyes. "I'm mad at you." Fair. "But I also miss you and I don't want you to be alone on Thanksgiving. So you're coming with me, you're eating Bobby's turkey, and the five different pies I've baked." Evan baked? Since when did Evan bake? Five pies? Tommy was so confused.

Tommy was honestly speechless. Because, what? "I miss you too." Was the only thing he could really get himself to say. And it was true, at least. Tommy had felt Evan's absence like an actual hole in his heart. Heart pumping over time to accommodate the wound and failing.

"Good. Because I'm not letting you go. And I'm not letting you let me go. We're going to actually talk after this, got it?" Evan had grabbed onto Tommy's hand, pulling him towards the jeep as he spoke.

"Got it." Tommy wished he could say more than two syllables at a time, but how could he? What could he even say? I love you? I'm sorry please let me spend the rest of our lives groveling? Nothing would be adequate.

But as they got into the jeep, Tommy blinked and reality settled in. Evan was here. Evan was bringing him to Thanksgiving dinner. Evan. Evan. Evan.

"I'm sorry. For being a coward." He finally let out. "You didn't deserve that."

"No, I didn't. But I get it. I came on too strong, I went a little insane and overcorrected. You also went insane, and we both should have talked. But we'll do that later. After we have a perfectly normal Thanksgiving together. Howie is probably gonna punch you a little for not texting him back, by the way."

Yeah, that was all pretty fair, honestly. "I didn't think Howie really wanted to talk to me, after everything."

Evan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you tend to make decisions for othe people without actually considering what they want. We'll work on that though."

We. Evan kept saying we. And it felt good. It felt so good to be a we again.

"You're right. I've been an ass. And, I'm going to work on it. For you. Me. Us. Our friends. I mean it, Evan."

A warm, gentle smile. "Good. Now come on. Everyone's waiting for us."

Everyone meaning. Everyone. Bobby and Athena. Maddie and Howie and Jee. Karen and Hen and Denny and Mara. Everyone.

No one was angry, there were no tense silences. Just joy and forgiveness and thankfulness.

And as Evan held Tommy's hand as he lead them through Maddie and Howie's place, Tommy was starting to see how special the holidays really could be.

It wasn't perfect, and like Evan said, they had a lot to talk about afterwards. But as Bobby carved the turkey and placed some on his plate, as Howie grabbed the mashed potatoes and passed it his way with a joke and smile. As Maddie punched his shoulder (fairly hard, he had to give her that) but then hugged him the next second. As Hen gave him a searching look, like she was waiting to see if he was gonna make a run for it again, but then a satisfied nod when she saw the resolution on his face. Tommy realized this was what he had been missing out on, all those years ago.

And he wasn't going to let it slip past him again.

#bucktommy #tevan #wrote this both right when i woke up and just now #might post this on ao3 if ppl like it enough but idk

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fantaatix · 13 hours ago

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"i have no home now"

i remember a while back when this episode was still being highly anticipated people were debating whether or not stolas would be stripped of his title and powers, maybe even hired by blitz, and why that might be a bad thing

i'll just rip this straight from the post i found in my likes:

"Saying that Stolas needs to abdicate so their relationship can be healthy implies that a commoner really CAN'T be with royalty"

the thing is that i don't think that's necessarily what the show is trying to imply. i'll give them some credit, they posted this in august, i forget when exactly apology tour came out but i think there was a general acceptance that they'd be back together by the end of the season

i don't think that's the case either and here's why;

i think one of the overarching themes of this season is how blitz simultaneously ruins and saves people--whether or not these are his intentions varies from person to person

for example, those he believes he's ruined are his sister, fizz, his mom, and verosika

verosika is an outlier because of the fact that a) the three prior were close enough to be considered family, b) the three prior can all be pinned down to the same event, and c) i feel like he definitely meant to at least piss her off, as a means to push her away

you don't "steal their car, run three rings to wrath and max my credit on shitty horse-riding lessons" because you think it'll brighten someone's day

those he's ruined mostly want nothing to do with him, or keep themselves at a distance; barbie wants nothing to do with him, verosika hates his guts (used to, rather), and while they definitely care about each still, his friendship with fizz is not what it used to be

but now, with IMP, he seems to be on a trend of making a life for himself and giving others a new chance

these images are always paired together as like, "before and after" and i'm sure it's been mentioned dozens of times, but again--there is an outlier, and i think in this case it's moxxie

with millie and loona blitz identifies their struggles himself

with loona, he sees how rough she acts on the outside but sees the soft interior and recognises himself--he wants to give her a real chance at a life, free of judgement

with millie, it's essentially the same deal, except millie straight up tells him about her struggle to make a living and he offers her a job

but with moxxie, there is no "identification", at least not to the specifics. he's in jail, moxxie's in jail, things suck regardless. if anything, maybe blitz figured that being incarcerated was "the struggle", which is probably fair; i don't think you're gonna get "my dad is a sociopath, my mom left/died and my boyfriend left me for dead" first try

moxxie was not special to him in this moment; blitz didn't recognise some divine struggle or empathic connection, they've known each other for 30 seconds and know literally nothing about each other. blitz is looking to break out and see his daughter, that is his goal here. the question was not, "what is this guy's struggle?" the question was "can this guy work a gun?" and the answer may or may not have been yes

and you can tell, like...just by the way blitz looks at him after. it is so possible that he just planned to ditch him after they both got out but ended up not doing so for whatever reason. like, "oh wow, that definitely meant more to him than it meant to me"

that seems to be the case with all of the people he's helped in one way or another; he can't even see that he helps. it's confirmation bias, all he sees is the bad. he needs people to reel him back into reality, people like millie or fizz or maybe possibly stolas later on cough cough

but now back to the point i'm trying to make (and what brought this post to life);

first off, the face blitz makes once he is confronted with the idea that people would actually miss him if he was gone:

and secondly, these two lines:

blitz: you need a ride home

stolas: i...have no home now. everything i have is gone.

this is stolas at his most vulnerable. he has no powers, no home, his daughter is in custody of his Bitch Wife, and he has no lover.

you could argue a few of those things in western energy but in this moment he has absolutely nothing to fall back on, he is alone.

and then blitz invites him to stay with him because that's what he does, he helps people at their most vulnerable moments. he gives them a home.

that is the point here--this isn't about their relationship right now, this about blitz having an irresistible urge to protect people he cares about and acting on it, because like it or not that's his job for the time being. he's not a bodyguard but he'll be playing that role until he dies or stolas gets his powers back.

he can finally actually protect stolas now, maybe even feel fulfillment in doing so, not having to fall back on things like "i didn't think you could get hurt" and seemingly forgetting to mention the fact that "oh yeah someone's plotting to kill you you should maybe look into that"

this is where they learn trust in each other. trust and devotion.

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beesmygod · 23 hours ago

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navel-gazey retrospective: man my pain is like truly almost entirely gone. i had allergy and effexor woes for like 2-3 years and then the last 2 years overlapped with the terrible mysterious joint disease+effexor tapering (AAH!!!! my back is only just starting to feel truly free!!!!!!) so its extremely welcome to only experience like a weird 1-2 pain scale achey hour or two a day at worst. it was so bad. i'm still not 100%, im still so tired all the time, but much, much better than i used to. things are looking up and im slowly getting back in the saddle. it's slower than i want, but it's at least trending upward.

sorry for being completely unhinged for several years. thank you for being patient with me if you could stomach it, because it is only in hindsight that i realize how caustic and vile it could be. i am pretty ashamed of my behavior during this time. knowing this can and will happen again if there's a pain flare/weird med issue is making me hyper-vigilant about my behavior to prevent this from just playing out over and over for the rest of my life, forever. im going to keep doing what im doing now, which i hope is unobtrusive and respectful. i was a miserable jerk and i am sorry i made it everyone else's problem.

sincerely, if it were not for several things i think i would have been completely fucked: medicaid, being able to do comics for a living, and adam. if not for the flexibility of the work i do, i would not be able to have taken all that time off to try to at least inch toward an understanding of what was going on with me and take long periods of time to recover from it. people were endlessly kind with me and the sporadic update schedule that crept up on me in the previous years and i appreciate it. my life was improved by your support directly and it continues to be improved by it. it helped a lot.

but i was only truly able to have that incredibly loose schedule because of adam, who worked his ass off not only at his job, but also by picking up my slack around the house (there was a point where moving dishes from the table to the kitchen became "impossible" ?? and i'd have to wait until morning to do it??), cooking dinner every night, helping with laundry, demonstrated endless patience and respect for me when i spent an extraordinary amount of time sitting on the couch staring at my phone, covered bills when i needed the months off, and really just stepped up and showed up when i know he's exhausted too. thanks adam love you...!

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pansy-picnics · 2 days ago

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YESSSSSSSS YES YES GOD. OH MY GODDDDDD. RIPPING MY SHIRT OFF LIKE THE HULK. YOU GET IT OP. I LOVE PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS (Says the aroace guy . Like okay fork found in kitchen cmon now)

No cuz LISTEN. romance and attraction is something that is constantly front in center in society as a whole….its a lot more understood than friendship or familial relationships. so it probably makes SENSE to hugo at least in concept.

Attraction is understood by a lot of people as like a biological instinct (And obviously its more complex than that but thats the most Basic idea thats been held for most of history i think). And hugos definitely been Attracted to people before. I think he kind of just sees it as a nuisance tbh. He just tries to gaslight himself into pretending it isnt there.

But platonic love….you dont have that physical reaction yknow??? I mean ive had what i can describe as platonic “crushes” before but it’s different….It could be different for other people ofc but in my experience platonic love kind of sneaks up on you. You might not even really notice its there. One day you’ll just be looking at someone and you’re like, “oh yeah. This one. Theyre the one. Theyre safe.”

They affect you in little ways. like influencing the way you think or the way you speak and you dont notice until someone points it out. You’ll pick up on words they use and everyday things will make you think of them. ITS JUST. GAH!!! I LOVE PLATONIC LOVE!!

I think platonic love is SUCH an important part of hugo’s general role in the story because like….This isnt his first rodeo remember? Hes done jobs for donella before. Hes probably crushed on a few people before. Maybe even people hes worked with. But clearly its never affected his performance before. none of these crushes have Permanently rewired his brain and this perspective he has of the world.

The reason team radical has such an impact on him is NOT just bc she’s gay for varian. It’s bc ALL OF THEM are the first people who have just Genuinely cared about her, with no ulterior motives, no strings attached, no romantic connotations, no nothing. Theyre the first people she’s actually connected with and felt like she could be herself around. and they’re the first to actually able to counter these mindsets that are so Natural to her- these mindsets that it’s every man for himself, that relationships are all temporary, and that she’s not fundamentally deserving of love. Varian, nuru and yong showed hugo a new perspective on life. ALL OF THEM DID!! NOT JUST VARIAN!!!

Its why platonic varigo is genuinely so important to me and one of the reasons i think varigo are the “best friends first/lovers second” kind of couple. its also why i dont really like them having chemistry like right off the bat. Because like…Them being friends first is the only reason their relationship as it is is even possible. Neither of them really had friends their age before and thats Why they really connect.

if it wasn’t for varian just…being a good friend, and him, nuru and yong all collectively showing hugo this new outlook on life….team radical would have just been another means to an end. Sure maybe hugo would’ve had a little crush on varian or found him attractive, but it wouldn’t have made him like, quit his whole job. He would’ve just done the work and moved on with his life. he wouldn’t have FALLEN IN LOVE like he did. Love and attraction are two different things and hugo didnt just have a crush on varian, he fell in love with him. and he fell in love (platonically, of course) with yong and nuru too.

THATS what changed him!!! Genuine human connection and love!!! It had nothing to do with romance!!! And i feel like people just tend to focus on the yaoi or whatever when like…It means nothing if we aren’t seeing hugo form these bonds with the group as a whole and watching his outlook change as a result! without the core feature of genuine human connection and friendship the yaoi wouldn’t even EXIST!!! 😭😭😭

I especially need more library/betrayal scenes with the whole group bc it genuinely makes me so mad when they’re Just about varigo and nuru and yong are just. Left behind? NOBODY EVER WRITES NURU AND YONG REACTING TO THE BETRAYAL…..NOBODY WRITES THEM HELPING HUGO WHEN VARIAN GETS POSSESSED. THEY’RE JUST. LEFT BEHIND AND THEN THEY SHOW UP AT THE END WHEN THEY HAVE THEIR GROUP HUG OR WHATEVER….SOMETIMES NOT EVEN THAT!!!

IT BREAKS MY HEART BECAUSE THEY’RE NOT JUST SIDE PIECES TO VARIGO!!! 😭😭😭 GAHHH. I NEED MORE TEAM RADICAL JUST ALL BEING BEST FRIENDS AND LOVING EACH OTHER!!!!! I NEED YONG AND NURU TO PLAY A PART IN THESE MAJOR PLOT POINTS TOO!!!!

I feel like we don't talk about how Hugo would be weirded out by the concept of having friends enough. Like we all pretty much agree that Donella, while maybe not being outright abusive, was at least not an amazing parent figure and made Hugo live a life that wasn't super healthy. But I haven't really seen anyone talk about how he probably has never felt platonic love.

I like the idea that it wasn't Varian that convinced Hugo to leave Donella, it was Nuru and Yong.

Hugo would have at least had a crush before, if not an actual relationship, he's aware that liking someone made you want to do stupid stuff, like quit your job, abandon your mother figure, and live with them for the rest of your life, but wanting to do that sort of stuff for someone you have no attraction to whatsoever? Huh?

I just love the idea that while Varian was a huge part in changing Hugo, it took friendship with no hint of romantic connotations to finally win Hugo over.

#pansy rambling again #hugo rottewange #vat7k hugo #varian and the 7 kingdoms #varian and the seven kingdoms #vat7k yong #vat7k nuru #team radical #varigo #varian

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willowsnook · 17 hours ago

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five years later

Pulled pork, extra meat, sourdough (Part 2…mikes way..?)

andrei iosivas x childhoodbsf!reader

i’d be insane not to love you

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Wining and dining people was your least favorite part of your job. You enjoyed the boots on the ground, technical work that you had spent two years heads down doing. But now that you and your partner’s startup was slightly off the ground, you desperately needed investors. So, instead of going out with your friends this Friday night, you were at a corporate happy hour, stuck in countless conversations with older men who didn’t really understand how technology was evolving.

“So explain to me again how this works,” the man you were talking to asked, and you forced your face to remain in the tight smile that you wore. Luckily, your partner jumped in, and you took the time to scan the room, casually sipping your drink. Nobody was that interesting or attractive except a guy who looked like your age by the bar. Wait, he looks so familiar. Tan skin, dark shaggy hair, ripped. And that smile. The smile given to you too many times growing up at the beach, sitting around your family’s dining room table, after high school football games. Andrei Iosivas.

He was your next-door neighbor when you were kids, and you were inseparable. He was your first friend, your first kiss (you were 10), and honestly, the man everyone thought you would marry one day. But as it does, life got in the way. Andrei got a scholarship to Princeton, and you ended up at Stanford. The first year was okay; you flew out to see him once, and he flew to see you, but then he didn’t come home that summer. And you didn’t come home the next summer. It wasn’t anyones fault, you both just got busy. Andrei was trying to make it to the NFL, and you met Jenna and were trying to get an idea you both came up with for an actual software product. Now that you were thinking about it, you hadn’t seen him in five years.

As if sensing your gaze, Andrei looked up, and your eyes locked. His eyebrows shot up in recognition, and that familiar grin spread across his face. He raised his glass slightly in acknowledgment.

You excused yourself from the conversation, hardly hearing your partner's confused protest as you approached the bar. Andrei met you halfway.

"No way," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Is that really you?"

"In the flesh," you replied, unable to stop smiling. "What are you doing here?"

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” he said, and you chuckled. “One of my friends was invited, and I wasn’t doing anything, so I tagged along. Can I get you a drink?”

You nodded and he flagged down the bartender for you to order a gin & tonic.

“Little different than the Burnetts and lemonade we were drinking back then huh,” he teased and you fake gagged.

“God, anytime I see that bottle, I want to throw up,” you complained, and he laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. You took the drink from the bartender before stepping off to the side with Andrei.

“So I’m here being a supportive friend, what are you doing here?” He asked.

“Trying to find investors for my company,” you said and he nodded, not acting surprised at all.

“You were always the smart one between the two of us,” he said and you smiled.

Another guy walked over to Andrei, slapping his hand on his shoulder, “Hey man, just let me do one more round and we can leave.”

Turning to you, the man took in your appearance appreciatively and Andrei stiffened next to him.

“And who might this be?” He asked, holding out his hand to you. You shook it, amused.

“Y/n Y/l/n,” you introduced and his eyes widened.

“From Teva?” he asked, and you nodded, surprised. "I'm a big fan of your guys’ tech. I talked to Jenna earlier and am going to meet up with her this week for a demo. You are incredibly impressive.”

Blushing you thanked him and Andrei frowned, not liking the interaction.

“Y/n is one of my childhood friends,” Andrei said, joining the conversation, and his friend looked back at you before smirking knowingly.

“Ah yes, you’ve mentioned her before,” he said and Andrei’s face reddened. You shot him a curious look before noticing Jenna waving at you from across the room.

“I have to go, but it was good to see you, Dre. My number is still the same, so let’s catch up soon,” you said, and he nodded, watching you walk toward your friend.

“I can see why you never got over her,” Jack said, watching you shamelessly as you left. Andrei just shoved him as a response.

——————————————————————————

AI: are you free for dinner tomorrow? Practice ends earlier Y/N: that works for me, where? AI: want to just come to my place? I was thinking we could make that teriyaki chicken thing we always used to make Y/N: that sounds amazing, i’ll be there around 6 :30

After work, you stopped by your apartment to change into a comfy pair of leggings and long-sleeve Bengals shirt before entering his address into your GPS. Andrei met you outside and smiled at you as you pulled in.

Walking over to him, you wrapped your arms around to hug him in greeting, sighing as he held you to him and your heart fluttered, just like old times. You knew it was wishful thinking that your crush on him back in the day wouldn’t come back. And now here he was in front of you, twice as attractive as he used to be.

"Come on in," Andrei said, his hand resting lightly on your lower back as he guided you inside. The apartment was spacious and modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city skyline.

"Nice place," you commented, taking it all in.

"Thanks," he replied, a hint of shyness in his voice. "Make yourself at home. I'll grab us some drinks."

You settled onto the plush couch, watching as Andrei moved around the kitchen with practiced ease. He returned with two glasses of white wine, handing one to you before sitting down beside you.

"So," he began, his eyes twinkling, "tell me everything I've missed in the last five years."

You laughed, launching into stories about your startup, successes and failures, and the whirlwind your life had become. Andrei listened intently, commenting occasionally, a small smile on his face as he took you in.

Out of breath you took a drink at the same time as you heard his stomach growl.

“Why don’t we get started on dinner while you tell me everything that I missed in the last five years,” you suggested and he quickly agreed.

Working on the sauce and chicken, you listened to him tell you about Princeton and then getting drafted to the Bengals. You asked a million questions, all that he answered happily and it began to feel like the two of you had never been apart in the first place.

“Remember that time our jet ski died and we were stranded for a couple of hours,” you said, before taking another bite of the dinner.

“How could I forget?” He joked. “I was freaking out, and you were floating on your back the whole time, telling me that I just needed to ‘be one with the water.’”

You laughed, reminiscing on the memory, remembering a bunch more like it.

“You always kept me calm,” he said softly, looking deep into your eyes. You felt a shift in the atmosphere. “I think it’s what I’ve missed most about you these past years. I definitely could have used you.”

“You are a star, Dre; you didn’t need me,” you said, giving him a small smile. He looked away, contemplating. "What’s on your mind?”

“It’s hard sometimes,” he admitted. “I feel like the whole world is on my shoulders, and I’m one bad game away from losing it all.”

He wasn’t looking at you as he said this; instead, he picked at his nails, an old habit you see that he still hasn’t broken. You took his hand in yours, squeezing gently.

“Remember that game senior year, where you fumbled twice and had zero catches,” you said and he met your eyes, giving you an annoyed look.

“I’d love to see where you are going with this,” he said and you rolled your eyes.

“It was the worst game I’d ever seen you play. And then you showed up for the next game and had 300 hundred receiving yards and three touchdowns. I know you, Dre; one game could never define you.”

Andrei's eyes softened as he looked at you, a mix of gratitude and something deeper swirling in their depths. He squeezed your hand back, his thumb gently stroking your skin.

"You always knew exactly what to say," he murmured. "God, I've missed you."

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension. You were acutely aware of how close you were sitting, how his knee was just barely brushing against yours. Your heart raced as you realized just how much you had missed him too - his laugh, his unwavering support, the way he made you feel seen and understood.

"I've missed you too," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Andrei's gaze dropped to your lips for a brief moment before meeting your eyes again. He leaned in slightly, giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted but you didn’t. Closing your eyes, you waited for his lips to touch yours but instead were jerked back to reality with the sound of your phone.

Looking at the screen, you saw that it was Jenna calling.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this,” you said and he gave you a small smile, face flushed.

“Go ahead, I’ll clean up.”

———————————————————————

It had been a week since you had dinner at Andrei’s and neither of you had brought up the almost kiss. He’d been texting you every day, and there was a new flirty vibe that had you thinking that maybe he did feel the same way about you.

You weren’t thinking about any of that today as you were drowning in work. Someone had found a bug in the software, and you had spent the whole day trying to figure out a fix so that you could push a new patch.

By 8pm, you were emotionally drained and feeling like you were going insane, and after another failure, you simply burst into tears. And if things couldn’t get worse, your phone went off, and Andrei’s face came over the screen.

“Hello,” you said, voice cracking slightly.

“What’s wrong, angel? " he asked concerned, and the use of your childhood nickname made you cry even more. “Are you crying?”

“It’s fine,” you sniffled. “Just work.”

“It’s not fine, I’m coming to pick you up.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“I’ll be there in five,” he said tightly before hanging up.

Sighing, you gathered your stuff and texted Jenna that you were calling it a night as you were completely stuck. Andrei was leaning against his car as you walked out of the building, and your resolve started to crumble the second you saw him. His arms quickly wrapped around you, and you stepped into his touch, clinging onto his shirt.

“Shh,” he soothed. “You’re okay.”

He moved one of his hands into your hair, gently massaging your head and you tried to calm down.

“Sometimes I don’t know if this is all worth it,” you admitted, pulling back to look at him through your teary eyes.

Andrei's eyes softened as he looked at you, his hand coming up to gently wipe away your tears. "Hey, don't say that. You've worked so hard for this. One bad day doesn't negate everything you've accomplished."

You sniffled, leaning into his touch. "I know, it's just... sometimes it feels like too much."

"I get it," he said softly. "But you're not alone in this, okay? You've got people who care about you, who want to support you." His eyes bore into yours. "You've got me."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Andrei..."

He pulled you close again, resting his chin on top of your head. "Come on, let's get out of here. I know just what you need."

Before you could protest, he was opening the passenger door for you. You climbed into his car, pulling the mirror down to wipe the mascara from under your eyes. The car ride was filled with comfortable silence, and you laughed as you saw where Andrei was pulling in.

“I haven’t been here in so long,” you admitted as Andrei got behind another car in the drive-thru of a Steak n’ Shake.

“Me either,” he said, shooting you a playful smile. “But it’s still a reflex to get you a peanut butter chocolate shake anytime I see a single tear on your pretty face.”

You blushed, putting your head into your hands. He grabbed one of your hands, forcing you to look at him.

“No more tears,” he said, and you rolled your eyes but smiled, repeating the phrase to him, just like you had countless times before.

He pulled out his wallet to pay for the shakes and the top of a photograph caught your attention.

“What’s that?” You asked curiously and he looked down to see what you were referring to before he started to stutter.

“Nothing,” he mumbled and you gave him a look. He let you take the wallet and you pulled out the picture. It was of the two of you when you were maybe 15 at the beach by your houses. Andrei’s arms were around you as he stood behind, both of you smiling widely at the camera.

“I love this picture,” you said. “I didn’t know you had a copy.”

“It reminds me of home,” he said, refusing to meet your eyes and you smiled softly to yourself. After handing you your shake, you directed him to your apartment and made the drive over. He followed you in, noting how much your place just felt like you. The apartment was small, but cozy and inviting. The walls were painted a soft cream color, decorated with vibrant paintings and colorful tapestries. The furniture was mismatched but fit perfectly, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

He sank down on your couch as you dug around the remote, finally finding it and flipping on a Hallmark Christmas movie you had bookmarked.

“Are you serious?” He complained and you smiled widely at him.

“I’m the one upset, so I get to pick.”

He patted the space next to him and you sat down, leaning your head into his shoulder as he rested his arm behind you.

As the movie played, you felt yourself relaxing into Andrei's warmth. His fingers absently traced patterns on your shoulder, sending little shivers down your spine. You tried to focus on the cheesy plot unfolding on the screen, but your mind drifted to the man beside you.

"This is nice," you murmured, tilting your head to look up at him.

Andrei's eyes met yours, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, it is," he agreed. "Just like old times, huh?"

"Almost," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. There was something different now, an electric current running between you that hadn't been there before.

He shifted slightly, his face now inches from yours. "Angel," he breathed, his eyes searching yours. "I've been wanting to tell you something."

Your heart raced as you looked into his eyes, waiting.

“I didn’t know if life would bring us back together, but it did so I don’t want to waste any more time. I’ve been in love with you since we were ten years old.”

Your breath hitched as he kept going.

“Us losing touch was the worst thing that happened to me and I won’t let it happen again. Even if you don’t feel the same, now you know.”

He looked away as he said the last part, clearly stressed which made you giggle. His eyes snapped back to yours questioningly.

“Of course I love you Dre. I’d be insane not to love you,” you told him smiling.

He let out a short laugh before looking down at your lips again. This time, there was no interruption as Andrei leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if he couldn't believe this was really happening. But as you responded, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, the kiss deepened, filled with years of pent-up longing and desire.

Andrei's hands found their way to your waist, holding you tight against him as he explored your mouth with his tongue. You sighed contentedly into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair. It felt like coming home, like everything in your life had been leading to this moment.

When you finally broke apart, both breathless, Andrei rested his forehead against yours. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his eyes sparkling with joy.

You smiled, running your thumb along his jawline. “If only I knew being apart for five years would have made you confess, I would have left sooner.”

#nfl imagines #andrei iosivas #andrei iosivas x reader #joe burrow

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darlingdreadwrites · 2 days ago

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cam 2

pairing: Edward Nashton x GN!Reader

part: 1, 2

summary: Edward has been watching you for a while – his obsession with you growing. When he spots you working at a bookstore, he almost forgets how to function.

contains: mentions of a shrine (a box with pictures of you), reader working at a bookstore, obsessed edward

warnings: mentions of masturbation, dub-con, stalking, use of religious imagery

word count: 2.2k

masterlist

a.n: if i continue this, it'll be with an afab reader but i wont specify a gender

Edward spent most of his nights watching you since he found your webcam feed. You had quickly become the best part of his day over the following weeks. You were there for him when he was at his lowest, and he found comfort in you. Not that you knew, of course. Edward would rather wring his own neck before he let you find out that he was watching you. You’d hate him for sure – call him a creep and alert the authorities. Even though the thought of being berated by you was just as tantalizing as the ones of you fully accepting and praising his depravity. But he couldn’t let himself destroy one of the most significant things of his life. And in the short amount of time that he’d “known” you, you were quickly climbing your way up to the top of his priorities. You have to pace yourself, he would remind himself, printing out yet another picture of you to keep safely in a box. That was yet another thing that filled Edward both peace and shame.

It hadn’t taken him long to find all the public information he needed to know about you. He had found a social media account of yours and he had to remind himself not to keep his jaw unhinged for too long. He already thought you were so beautiful – so perfect – naturally, but seeing you dolled up was doing devastating work to his self-control.

But Edward was a good boy - he would reassure you of that in his head every time he watched you. He fought to steer clear of anything that would scandalize you – you were too pure, too good for him to succumb to the temptations of his flesh. He kept his interactions and intentions as innocent as he could. I mean, could you really blame him though? He couldn’t exactly control it when your pretty face would flash in his mind at the wrong moment. Or if one of your pictures just happened to be close enough for him to see. But he would never choose to simply use you to pleasure himself – again.

Oh, how he hated himself on those nights. He’d be curled up in his bed afterward, kissing and crying over your stained picture until it tore apart in his trembling hands. He lovingly, reverently held it as a holy relic, his lips pressing to the image with desperate, silent apologies. Ink wasn’t too cheap – he’d have to be more careful with tainting your pretty pictures. At least he was grateful for having enough space on his computer to store hundreds more.

The chilly evening air had Edward tugging his worn jacket tighter around him. He had only moments ago clocked out of his dreary day job, the fluorescent lights burned yet in the back of his mind. His shoes splash through puddles as he passes the dingy rain-splattered windows. He urges his mind to stay confined to one thing while he passes people on the streets of Gotham: his next project.

The city was alive and less than welcoming, a breathing beast in all its grimy facades. A sheet of charcoal hung above, and only a few embers of dying sunlight were allowed to peak in. The sound of his breaths were swallowed by the persistent hum of the city – the distant wailing of a police sirens, the roaring traffic, and the murmurs of people with their heads hung low. His mind was a narrow tunnel, leading him to a local bookstore.

Focus, focus, focus, he reminds himself, trying desperately to shove away the image of your smile. The infectious kindness that shot like an electric current through the pixelated screen of your webcam feed. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to dwell on you for too long; he had to get back to being serious – to be serious about his work as the Riddler. His life’s work would be at the forefront of his priorities, he hoped you didn’t take offense.

The bell above the door jingled as he steps inside and removes his glasses. Wiping them with his sleeve, he blindly made his way to the aisles containing books on poisonous plants. His pulse quickens as his eyes scan the shelves, not noting anything to be amiss. He was too engrossed in his search for texts that would aid in his obsessive need for justice – the kind only his attacks and puzzles could solve. But, from the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of movement behind a counter.

Edward’s chest tightens, each breath coming out shallow and strained. He was sure all the blood in his body rushed to his head, making it feel inflated and light. The frantic drumming of the blood pumping through his veins seemed to drown out the quiet tune playing from a dingy speaker overhead. A wave of nausea cruelly rolls through him as he takes in the sight of someone manning the cash register. You.

You, in your work uniform – a black blouse branded with the bookstore’s name and dark jeans. You, with your smile – one he thought he’d only ever see behind a screen. You, kindly helping an elderly woman in all your pure benevolence. His heart practically beats out of his chest when you lift your head, and that’s when he gets a harsh wake up call.

Panicking, Edward ducks behind a shelf, almost sending a pile of books to the ground before grabbing and steadying the rack. That was sure to get your attention, he knew it. You would walk over any second now and kick him out of the store.

“No, no, no,” he mumbles silently, a high-pitched whimper slipping through. “Not now, please.”

He fights the urge to flee, telling himself that it would look like he had stolen something – probably making him something unforgivable in your eyes. He silently prays until he realizes that… you don’t know who he is. You don’t know that he’s been watching you for some time. He sighs, a small, relieved smile spreading on his face. A sudden giddiness makes him almost dizzy. He was originally here for two books, but he thinks that he would only get a one-minute interaction at most. He wanted more of that – more of you.

Finally setting his eyes on the books he needed; Edward rushes to grab an unused basket on the floor. His hands shook, none of the titles were even registering in his mind, but he wasn’t in a state to be selective. He begins to stack a couple of books that he believes would help his research. Fingers twitched against the spines while he grabs at whatever is in front of him. He was blind, lovesick man in your presence – even if you were merely in the same building. The simple fact is that in just a few moments, he would make himself a part of your life beyond a screen. You didn’t know him, but he swore on all the goodness that he ever had in his miserable life that he loved you.

He cringes when he finally looks down at the basket and feels the heavy weight of it. It was a chaotic mountain that had him worrying about the cost of it all. He promises himself that, if he can’t find use for them, he could return them. His smile stretches at the thought of seeing you again. He was getting ahead of himself; he had to get through meeting you now.

He approaches the counter with jerky steps, his knuckles turning white as he clutches the basket’s handle. He is too focused on your face to even notice – or care – about the way the plastic pinches the skin of his palm. His nerves were killing him, every step felt like he was dragging closer to the edge of a cliff. He swallows and it feels like sandpaper, so he turns his focus to the counter.

Your soft eyes and welcoming smile overwhelm him; he couldn’t face you. For a moment, he just stands there, clutching the handle of his basket. Finally, he awkwardly shoves the basket onto the counter, causing one of the books to fall. You catch it just in time with a small laugh.

“I’m s-sorry,” he mumbles, letting his eyes bravely dart between you and the haphazard mountain of books. “I-um.. just these… please.”

“You sure this is all?” you say playfully. It takes him a foolishly long time to realize that you just talked to him – joked with him. All he could manage was a pathetic, breathy giggle. His mind had, unfortunately, been elsewhere, preventing him from fully appreciate your charm. He would need to move some money around in his bank account later.

He keeps his head down as you scan each book, a blush creeping up his neck. He prays silently that you don’t see his trembling hands before he shoves them in his pockets.

You smile warmly at him as you announce the cost of his order, and Edward gives you a shaky grin in return. He pulls out his wallet, pays, and stumbles away from the counter with two heavy bags in each hand.

“Have a wonderful day,” you chirp behind him.

He’s barely holding himself together, his obsession deepening with each step he takes. He feels as though he’s floating back to his apartment, no longer caring about the hunger he felt earlier. No senses mattered in that moment, only the way your words repeat melodiously in his mind.

Edward, in his obsessive reverie, wouldn’t allow himself to sleep until he saw you again. He sat in his dimly lit apartment, only the soft hum of his computer breaking the silence. Rain taps against the window in a steady rhythm, trying to break his concentration on his thoughts of you. It wouldn’t work, he wouldn’t let it. He wanted his mind to be consumed by you.

The encounter at the bookstore was stuck in his head like a film on a loop. He kept every vivid detail in check, occasionally allowing some self-indulgent particulars to bleed in. You’d bat your eyelashes at him, touch his hand like you knew what you were doing to him. When he stammered, you had slightly tilted your head. He grunts, not wanting his fantasies to fully taint his very real memory of your interaction. He wanted to cling to each moment, analyze every word, replay it, dissect every nuance. Piece it all together until he thought it was tangible. But that notion had only come from the way his cock pulsed uncomfortably in his pants. He ignores it tonight. Greed was a sin, and he wouldn’t let it consume him. Finding your webcam in a sea of all others was a delicious divine punishment – one he had abused with muffled moans and tearful apologies. But finally seeing your blessed flesh in life, breathing the same air as you, and resisting the urge of satisfying himself… that was his penance.

Your smile… it wasn’t just out of practiced kindness. It was meant for me, he thought. That thought sent a shiver through him as his hands grip the arms of his chair. He felt exhilarated and terrified.

“It had to be fate.” He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Out of all the bookstores in Gotham… you were… You were there.”

The emotions were so overwhelming that he had to lean back and rub his hands over his face. The image of you persists, much to his dismay and yet to his delight. It couldn’t just be a coincidence. It couldn’t be. You two were meant to meet today. The universe had set it into motion.

Edward rolls his chair closer to his computer with a shaking breath. His fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitating for only a moment before gaining access to your webcam. You had just turned your computer on, the grainy light from your screen lit up your tired face. Seeing you again eased some of the tension in his body slowly. His lips curl into a gentle smile and he wants desperately to congratulate you on surviving your job. Watching felt like communion, his own sacred and intimate practice.

He whispers under his breath, words meant only for you. But he knows you can’t hear him. “You look so tired today. I hope I made a good impression on you.”

He traces a finger over the screen, as if by some miracle he would be able to touch the glow of your face and feel your warmth. He was a little disappointed that you were only going to check a few emails before retreating to your bed, but he understood why you only graced him with a few minutes. You were tired and he would respect that – respect you. You deserve to rest.

Before standing up from his desk, he reaches for a picture of you he had printed out earlier. He holds it close to his chest, settling onto the worn mattress on the floor. He rolls over on his side and closes his eyes, imagining your voice bidding him goodnight.

“Soon,” he murmurs into the dark of his room. “We’ll meet again soon.”

#riddler x reader #edward nashton x reader #riddler fanfic #riddler fanfiction #batman 2022 #the batman 2022 #paul dano riddler #dano riddler #dano riddler x reader #edward nashton #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x gn reader #gn reader #stalking tw #tw stalking

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mzuark · 2 days ago

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Destiny 1 was neat actually

I'm not opposed to the old Chosen One story, but every now and again a game comes along that doesn't really do that.

Recently I've made a habit of going back to OG Destiny and replaying the old missions and one thing I've realized is that the purpose of the original game wasn't that you were some grand badass whose existence heralds the coming of a new world. In the original Destiny, you are truly just a nameless, faceless, Guardian. One of many.

For one thing, the vanilla campaign isn't actually a "campaign" as you would understand the term. It's a series of disconnected and random events that serve as an excuse plot to take you across the planets available at launch. You start by fighting the Fallen on Earth, then by fighting the Hive on the Moon. Neither of these things are related to each other and the schemes you stop aren't master plans, just another evil activity on the itinerary. At the very end of the base game campaign, you defeat The Black Heart which is a thing. After saving the day, the Speaker has a nice little speech and ceremony thanking...somebody for all their hard work. Your character isn't at the ceremony, you don't have a medal or get any honor for the deed and that's when it all becomes clear.

You may be a Legend, but you aren't special. Every Guardian is doing something that is helping mankind survive another day. You are a cog in the machine. That speech was like a monthly "Hey great job gang." Yeah you killed The Black Heart but there are a hundred other problems that someone needs to deal with. Shaxx's ambient dialogue in the Crucible is talking about random extinction level events that he's stopped in the past. This is just life for these people.

Now obviously this aspect fades away as the DLCs go on and the player Guardian really does become a badass superhero but it's just neat the first time you see it.

#destiny #destiny the game #destiny 2 #the guardian #the young wolf #ghost

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reason-with-the-underdog · 2 days ago

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workaholic kaveh (bc career>therapy)

love the hc where kaveh, fresh off the heels of the thesis breakup w alhaitham, basically just launches himself into massive overwork

bc u can't dwell if u're constantly working! 🧠

after the palace of alcazarzaray's second rebuild, that was the first free time he's had in years

bc he had to probably do a ton of extra work for graduation after their thesis failed, he mentions in his vl's that he was overworked by his seniors at his first job post-graduation, and he achieved a TON portfolio-wise in the 5-10 years since he left the akademiya

the benefit of all this overwork is:

his reputation is GREAT even tho his clients grumble about his attention to aesthetics🙄

he doesn't need to think about his personal problems! at all! absolutely no time for that!!

which includes never needing to reflect on the roots of the breakup

so in the wake of his self-inflicted bankruptcy post-palace construction... the workaholic that is kaveh finally has free time

and he has absolutely no idea what to do with it

and he's not comfortable bc he's:

bankrupt

homeless

alternating between being incredibly day drunk/hung over

finishing a massive creative project is just EXHAUSTING. like so much energy and passion and emotional investment was put into that palace, and now he's getting congratulated for the palace while also having to pretend like he's totally hanging around a tavern 24/7 bc he WANTS to be there (and not for any other reason)

and with free time to think about, well, everything

oh how the insecurities & anxieties & Bad Thoughts start to creep in🥲

but who can kaveh talk to about this? he can't let anyone know he's ruined by his greatest work yet (he can't let the palace be tarnished by his bankruptcy)

but kaveh's also incredibly strong emotionally, despite all of his troubles

he's able to redesign the 2nd floor of lambad's tavern in literally less than the 2 weeks he stayed there, and he kept up his social image of the famed architect celebrating a masterpiece of the ages

i think a lot about how kaveh seems uncomfortable in times of rest and tranquility... that bad hours and urgent deadlines and a too big workload done pro bono (for free) feels easier/more natural...

aka why he's so good at denial & Not Thinking about certain facts in his life 🙈

such as why alhaitham might have extended a helping hand and offered his home to kaveh without seeming to get much in return...

altho as part of kaveh's character arc, which includes reconciling with alhaitham post-PoP, he later starts to have an inkling...

the big question ofc is will he process /why/ alhaitham helped 😆

but in general i think keeping busy as a way to Not Think contributed a great deal to why kaveh's relationship and reactions to alhaitham's behaviors/words changes so much from when we first meet him in the Sumeru AQ to now (his bday letter anyways)

consider this:

alhaitham had 2+ years of akademiya after the thesis breakup (less if he graduated early ig, but regardless, years) without his most significant friend/influence/confidant around so he had a lot of time to process what happened and to make changes from then

meanwhile kaveh's constantly caught off guard by the differences in his expectations of how alhaitham would react (based off of akademiya-era alhaitham)

vs alhaitham's current-day behavior

like ofc its normal that people change after several years and after not being in school, but kaveh basically froze himself and his understandings of alhaitham's character in time, like a fly in amber

so he has to make much more obvious changes in his behavior to catch up on all those lost years, which we see happening in real time in canon!

alhaitham changes too (look at him distracting kaveh from his depression like a champ in kaveh's hangout! uh huh he really heard us thru his noise cancelling headphones? 🤨)

but they're more subtle shifts

anyways hyv did so good when they cooked up kaveh and alhaitham dkfdlijdk

#genshin impact #hkvh #kaveh #dev thoughts #meta #twt crosspost #haikaveh #haikavetham #kavetham

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antizenin · 2 days ago

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𑁤 THE CLEANER-UPPER ⋮ BAKUGO KATSUKI

a highly-regarded murder cleaner is assigned a job at a hotel. unfortunately, when housekeeping walks in, it breaks bakugo’s streak and ability to make a clean getaway.

( fic demographics. ) boku no hero academia, bakugo katsuki, dark themes & sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs : do not interact & 7.0k words !

➛ murder cleaner!bakugo, housekeeper!reader ( fem-bodied ), mentions of murder, dead bodies & blood. smut: rough sex, bondage with a belt, anal play, fingering, degredation, spanking, etc.

Bakugo has always been thorough with everything he does, living his life in a pristine manner that his friends often teased him for. Everything he has and owns has to be placed in their designated areas or his mind will start racing and it’s as though he’s a ticking time bomb. It’s a problem that he has, but he’s made it work in his favor. Especially in his line of business.

When Bakugo’s asked what he does for work, he’s honest. He’s a cleaner. Typically, people won’t question him further. They might ask what a guy of his size and caliber is doing working a small job like that. He’s gone to a well-established university and earned a high-GPA that his academic peers are envious of. Why is he wasting such talent on a dead-end job? Surely, there are other professions and careers he could go in.

And with further elaboration, Bakugo goes into a little bit more detail, saying that he works for a private company and that he gets paid by the rich to clean up. Then, by seeing the type of stuff he’s able to afford, they can come to some sort of understanding of why he does it. A paycheck is a paycheck and does he really need a job that’s mentally taxing? They learn to dismiss further questioning, even if they’re not satisfied with the course of life in which Bakugo’s decided, and let him be. He’s got a roof over his head and is able to come home to a full fridge. He’s obviously not struggling like they have to.

But the majority of the time, that’s a stranger’s outlook on his life. People that are more dear to him have come to grow suspicious. Are the rich really that willing to pay him that much money just to clean their homes? Do they really just throw their money away just like that?

His parents, specifically his mother, have inquired plenty of times about his job. She had asked for full reports about the business he works in and Bakugo’s been willing to share. Giving his mother a business card, pamphlets and flyers, his tax information when she further insisted. And through conducting her own research, everything has checked out. Her son is indeed a cleaner. A well-paid cleaner that’s able to live in a nice luxury apartment by himself, owning a car that’s better than her own, and doesn’t have to come back to his parents for anything financial wise.

He doesn’t have to worry about a thing, and while that should make Mitsuki happy, it doesn’t. She’s proud that her son has a job and is able to support himself and doesn’t need to depend on her or her husband for anything, but she feels as if she’s not needed— not wanted anymore. He rarely calls and when he does, he makes sure to make it worthwhile, always stating how his job has kept him and away from the phone. When Mitsuki tries to make unexpected visits, he’s never home— peeking through the windows, his apartment barely looks lived in.

The more and more she thinks about it, Mitsuki realizes that this isn’t normal. Days at a time he would be absent and when he’s back it’s only for a day or two until he’s back on his feet. It’s exhausting to watch, and it surely must be twice as exhausting for Bakugo to keep working such strenuous hours. She’d try to get him to quit, seeing purple starting to form under his eyes. That’s not like her son— that’s not like Bakugo to not get at least eight hours of sleep every night. However, he’s always quick to protest, giving her every reason in the book not to. And he’d always end it that he actually loves his job and loves what he does— that it’s his outlet.

And with that reasoning only is why Mitsuki hasn’t dragged her son’s ass back home and forced him to quit already. Her boy is happy.

—

MISSION REPORT:

Asset #1080, last night Q-100’s logistics expert Shinsou Hitoshi used a known alias to check in to the Escenica hotel in Buenos Aires. Turns out that was the last mistake he ever made.

Our operative had to act fast to catch him in his room, so you may well have a bigger mess than usual on your hands.

Housekeeping will begin making rounds any time now. Make sure there’s nothing for them to find.

Disposing of the mission report right as the plane lands, Bakugo lets out an exhausted sigh. He pulls out his airpods case as he stands to his feet, plopping the small buds into his ears and hearing the habitual chime of it connecting to his device. Swerving past the private flight attendant, his footsteps are as quiet as a mouse, something that used to be unlikely before working in this field. He puts on his playlist, he always plays it when heading to a new job— it oddly relaxes him.

Heading to the black Lexus that’s sitting there waiting for him, he opens the door and hops in, not having to say a word as he’s been driven right where he needs to be. Being introduced to this line of business, Bakugo never thought he’d be someone who’d become insensitive to the sight of death and the thought of it all. However, being led through the first job and oddly finding it satisfying, he slides through every gig with ease and always concludes it a piece of cake when his agent comes to collect a completed mission report.

People think that what he’s doing isn’t challenging, always giving him looks when he tells them he’s a cleaner, thinking that what he’s doing is a waste of talent. However, he finds it to be his perfect calling, finally finding something that silences that constant creak inside his head.

When the Lexus comes to a final stop, Bakugo doesn’t bother with a farewell, more like a thankful grunt and nod before exiting the vehicle and watching as the automated doors open for him. It’s awfully quiet for a hotel, he thinks the moment he steps in. It’s close to the holidays. Shouldn't it be a little bit more crowded?

He’s not trying to wish for a difficult procedure tonight, but he finds the silence odd. However, he finds himself grateful the moment he passes a door with the body splayed out on the bed with the bed sheets covered in blood. Rushing in, he curses, “shit.”

I know they had to act fast, but couldn’t they have used some of their senses if they had any? Bakugo continues to curse under his breath the longer he stands inside of the hotel room, moving to turn the lock on the handle. He lets out a sigh as he takes a moment to himself. Scoping the scenery out, he hums to himself silently as he thinks of his options. The first thing he notices are the windows— they’ve been left open.

I could make it look like he jumped, he suggests before quickly disregarding. No, that’ll call for attention. It needs to be something silent. And something outside of this room— Turning around, he twists the door knob before remembering that he locked it, feeling something flap around underneath. Two signs for maintenance— just what he needs.

Opening the door and peeking his head through it, the coast is clear. The red ‘do not disturb’ on his door and the green housekeeping sign for the room adjacent to him. This will give him enough time to venture out and get a better look at his options.

—

By the time Bakugo’s finished his tour of the hotel, he’s managed to reroute the surveillance off of his floor and housekeeping has fallen for his small diversion, the cart parked right outside the room next to him— he’s managed to successfully snag the keys off of it as well, opening what he needs before setting them back in place. In such a short time, he’s managed to conjure up a plan to successfully hide the body— if he’s able to get the garbage chute up and running in a short period of time while also getting the staff outside of the laundry room right when he needs it. Inwardly, he cheers himself, finding this to be an easy task before instructed another assignment to complete.

Heading back inside the room, he’s found the edge of the bed frame to be falling off, and hopefully it could aid as a ladder to create a diversion for the laundry staff. Those damn workers will be in there twenty-four-seven if he doesn’t do something about it. Finding the custodial closet using the keys he borrowed, he’s managed to twist off the pipe and found some fuses that’ll help repair the garbage chute.

Bakugo thought that since it’d be a year since doing this, his heart would calm down and stop pounding against his chest, but as much as he loves it, he’s reminded of the impeccably tight schedule that he’s on and that he needs to do this fast. He moves with a haste, sorting his thoughts out with every step that he takes. Turning off the valve to the water supply, he’s figured that’ll lead to a little halt in the laundromat workers downstairs and with the garbage disposal inside of the custodial room, he can quickly get rid of the body and the blankets in no time.

Climbing down from the roof, Bakugo pauses when he hears sudden movement. “The damn water stopped working all of a sudden,” a rough voice speaks, his tone rising the more he gets angrier. “What am I supposed to do for the next seven to eight hours?”

“Calm down,” Bakugo hears next, a soft feminine voice coming from whoever the man is speaking to. With the exasperated sigh leaving their mouth, Bakugo can tell that this seems to be an ordinary occurrence of the man complaining and the woman having to hear it. “Call in for maintenance and use the rest of your shift to relax. Easy.”

“Yeah, easy for you to say,” the man scoffs. “You’re just a young thing with nothing much going on. For Pete’s sake, you’re in your twenties working in a goddamn hotel!”

Bakugo doesn’t know how the young woman’s able to keep calm when he hears her nonchalantly retort back, “And you’re in your fifties working in a hotel. Shouldn’t you be working high up in corporate by now?”

You’ve managed to silence the man, completely exiting the clean room and making your way down the line. You’ve gotten used to Aizawa’s complaining by now, but sometimes he knows just what button to push. Like now. Eyebrows rising, you see Adam's apple bob as he realizes his mistake. You have surely proven your point. In his incessant rambling, he forgot that both of you are in this circumstance and while there’s no further hope for him to better his life, you still have that opportunity. And unlike him, you have a plan on making it out of the hotel and finding a much more secure and well-paying job.

“Y’know what?” Aizawa clears his throat. “I’m gonna go read that book I’ve been meaning to catch up on the worker’s lounge.”

You curtly nod, plastering a faux smile on your face as Aizawa makes his way down the hall and out of your sight. “Tell me about it later.”

With a heavy exhale, you let out your breath as you push the cart down to the next room, forgetting to read the sign as you move to unlock it. Bakugo doesn’t move fast enough before you have the door unlocked and you’re pushing it open. The sight before you doesn’t fully register until a second too late, eyes widening and about to scream when you feel a rough hand planted over your mouth and you’re being pushed up against the wall. It went by in a flash, but it’s vivid in your mind. Pale skin sprawled out on the bed— motionless. Lifeless. Your heart is racing, panging heavily on your chest as the crimson red eyes that match the color of the blood-soaked covers peer down menacingly at you. “Do. Not. Make a sound.”

You finally make eye contact with the person that’s got you in this position. And it’s easy for you to jump to conclusions— think that he’s the killer and because you walked in on this scene, you’re going to be his next victim. Bakugo’s never been in this position before, never getting caught. He doesn’t know what to do in this predicament.

Actually, he does, but he’s not sure if he wants to carry through. He’s not a killer, only the man that cleans up. He can stomach seeing a dead body, but not sure if he can stomach actually creating one. But, he doesn’t necessarily need to do it himself. He can call his organization, have them do the job for him and he’ll gladly clean it up.

Could he, though? Could he clean up the body of his own mistake? A young and pretty woman, seemingly around his age range, who had no business being in his. Of all of his tasks and mission reports, he’s never had witnessed a woman being killed and he really doesn’t want to anytime soon.

Fuck. You’ve really put him in a predicament here. Couldn’t you read the damn sign?

“Do ya understand me?” Staring into your eyes, he can see that you’re still freaked out. You’re still breathing heavily and your heart’s still racing. Your eyes continue to divert his, trying not to make eye contact at all. His patience is running thin and everything he’s just thought will be running right through the door if you don’t calm down. So, he gives you a little “nudge.”

Shaking you, he clenches his job as he breathes once more, “do y’understand me?”

And finally does it register to you that he’s speaking, fright turning into confusion as your eyes turn glossy. “Mwhat?”

Bakugo seethes, hand pressing down harder over your mouth as he squeezes you into the wall. “Listen to me,” he checks his surroundings, reaching over to lock the door once more while simultaneously making sure he keeps his hold on you. “If ya make a sound, yer going to join this man. I have a pair of pliers that I can use to gouge out yer throat, it only takes a few seconds. Y’understand?”

Tears start to trickle down your eyes as you squeak, nodding your head in obedience. You’ve seen your fair share of movies, true crime television shows and podcasts. You don’t doubt a word that he says. And with a man of his size and caliber, if you dared to fight back, he’d tower over you in less than a second. If he goes back on his word and kills you, you hope it’d be a quick and easy one. So, in his hand, you nod once more. “I understand.”

He keeps you in that same position for a little while longer, staring into your eyes for a bit while longer before letting you go. Dropping his hand, you and him both let out a breath, but he still keeps you trapped against the wall. “Since ya decided to ignore the ‘do not disturb’ sign, yer going to help me dispose of the body.”

You rapidly nod. “Okay.”

You’re complying so easily, it makes him skeptical. “Yer not gonna fight?”

You shake your head, stammering out a “no.”

“Why not?” In response, you start to squirm within his tight hold. His big and calloused arms on your waist. So close to you, you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, so close to your neck. And his eyes, the color of rubies, despite them scorning you and scrutinizing your every move— they’re pretty. This scruff of a man with messy blond hair towers over you, bulging muscles that have easily pinned you down to the wall the moment you stepped foot into the room. The longer you look into his eyes, you realize that this man has seen some shit and has done even more terrible things. Why would you fight?

“You’d win,” you ultimately shrug. It’s enough to receive another once over from Bakugo, “You got a point.”

Peeking over Bakugo’s shoulder as best as you can, you look at the lifeless body— the corpse seemingly at peace. It makes you curious, and maybe a bit too brave. “W-why’d you kill him?”

“Huh?” Taken aback, Bakugo didn’t know how to answer your question. Should he tell you the truth or should he lie about it? Or should he evade your question altogether? Glancing behind him, at his current job, he lets out an exhale. “Just help me hide the body if you don’t want your skull bashed in.”

—

With the extra hand by his side, Bakugo was able to seamlessly dump the body inside of the garbage disposal and set everything that he had used back in its previous spot. You were compliant and didn’t argue with anything that he told you to do, able to divert and lie when questioned by your coworkers. It was as though you were familiar with this and had been working as a cleaner yourself. Bakugo was impressed. Still, he’s still unsure what to do with you.

Standing inside of the hotel room, he’s watched you clean up every crevice of the room, analyzing how you’ve fixed it up to pristine shape for the next occupant. It’s just a shame that the next person will have to deal with the ghost of Shinso Hitoshi. Dropping a spray bottle back into your cart, you slowly turn around to sheepishly view who you suspect to be a murderer. “Are you going to kill me now?”

You’ve taken him back yet again, but more so because you’ve been so calm. How are you not scared at the possibility of losing your life? He doesn’t answer your question and his silence is all that you need to finally break down. “Because before you do, I’d like to at least plead for my life!”

With the raise of your voice, your eyes widen. “Sorry,” you tone it down. “B-but… I won’t say a word. I’ll just— I’ll stay silent! Plus, you’ve made me an accomplice. If I did say anything, you could easily rebuttal it in court.”

You’ve got a point, he sighs. It’s a shocker that he didn’t even think about that before. He just made you an accomplice in the heat of things. Checking the time, it’s late and he has a bit of time for himself before he’s called in for his next task. “Are there any bars close by?”

“What?” you ask, bewildered. He gives you a look, telling you not to let him repeat himself. Gulping, you nod your head, “There’s a few not too far from here actually.”

“When do ya get off yer shift?”

Checking the time, you do the quick math. “In a little less than an hour actually.”

“Great,” he pushes himself up from off the wall. “We can discuss it over a drink then.”

“You’re not going to kill me then?” The moment you clocked out, Bakugo dragged you outside of the building and instructed you to take him to the nearest bar. As per usual, you complied, bringing him to one that you actually frequented yourself as the bartender immediately recognized you the moment you took a seat, setting a Mojito right in front of you before asking Bakugo what he wanted. With a bourbon in his hand, Bakugo cocks an eyebrow at you. “What makes ya think that?”

“You haven’t done so already,” you shrug. “I don’t know. With all my true crime knowledge, if you wanted to kill me, you’d have done it already. You’ve had plenty of opportunities.”

“Maybe I’m just having my fun with ya before I kill ya off. Have ya thought about that?” Bakugo inches into your personal space, standing up and towering over you. Purposely taking a domineering stance, he watches as fright twinkles in your eyes. Sickeningly does he find some humor in it before he sits back down on the stool. Clearing his throat, he takes another sip of his drink. “Nah, but yer right. ‘M not gonna kill ya.”

“Then why’d you bring me with you?” you ask. “Why not just send me on my way with another threat or something? It'd have worked.”

Leaning into his chair, Bakugo shrugs. “There’s just somethin’ about ya that makes ya interesting—” licking his bottom lip, his eyes grazing over your body, taking you more in. “—just need to discover what.”

—

Back pressed into the dresser, it aches as the straight edge leaves a bruise on your bare skin. His bare hands are no gentler, calloused palms that hold you down and grip your waist with a vice strength that has your heart beating against your chest. From its incessant pounding, it's caught Bakugo's attention as lets out an airy and amused chuckle. “Not scared to clean up a dead body, but yer frightened by my cock, hm?”

His breath against your neck as his teeth graze the shell of your ear. He paused and in anticipation, your body shudders. “Fear it's the one thing that's gonna kill ya? Yer a rather sick one, aren’t ya?”

You can only mewl out in pain as he pushes you further against the dresser. You can’t help but stare into those crimson eyes of his, how they’re sparkling in lust— lust directed right towards you. However, despite the pain and the haughty desire that courses through your body right now, you can only agree with him. That rush of being afraid, the possibility of losing your life and simultaneously hiding someone that’s already lost theirs. It was an exhilarating experience as you had a tall and brawn of a man that glared daggers into your chest if you dare get him caught. The possibility of aiding a criminal and becoming an accomplice no longer frightened you. No, it was the fact that you enjoyed it and now want to continue feeling that rush of living on the edge.

At the lack of response, Bakugo can only continue to chuckle in pure amusement. He’d mistaken you as a fragile being when in reality, you’re just as fucked up as everyone else is in this world. What was that saying again? The innocent ones aren’t as naive as they seem? At least it was something along those lines.

He leans over to bite down on your lower lip, thick and supple as he can taste the remnants of whatever chapstick you were wearing. You shamelessly moan at the feeling of his touch roaming your body. Big hands that reach to cup your ass and grope at them before hoisting you up on the dresser and eliciting a squeal from your lips. Who knew that a vixen such as yourself could sound so pure. Yet, Bakugo takes the opportunity to fully indulge in you, his tongue exploring the caverns of your mouth and giving you no fighting chance towards catching up. Instead, you can only moan and whimper against him as he’s in between your legs and you’re trapped in his vice grip.

Even with the assisted height of the white piece of furniture, Bakugo still has the leverage. His hips meeting your inner thighs as you feel the press of his clothed erection against your mound. Hands that previously didn’t know what to do finds themselves snaking around his neck and your nails scratching at the nape of his neck, playing with the short strands of his undercut. It drags a guttural groan from him, humming in response to your actions as he pulls away from you.

Your eyes flutter open to make contact with him once more, they’re glossy and needy as they beg for me. “Please…”

You don’t know what you’re begging for to be quite honest. You just need to feel more of him— to no longer be restrained by each other’s clothing; to feel each other’s raw bodies against each other’s. Bakugo knows exactly what you want, what you so specifically desire. And as much as he wants to give into those natural urges, he finds it fun to tease. “What’s it that ya want?”

His rough fingers start to traverse your body, from the nape of your neck down to your shoulders as goosebumps start to rise in anticipation. From the crevice of your shoulder to your waist does his fingers travel upwards to flick at the nub of your breasts and down to your navel. “What do you want inside of you, hm?”

His gruff and gravelly voice really does wonders to you, spiking up your heart rate even more that you’re concerned if this’ll turn into a medical mishap. Body still so close to yours, you can feel his body heat mixing with yours as small beads of sweat begin to form. “Do you want my fingers inside of ya?” he inquires. “The same ones that were used to hide a dead body? You’d fuckin’ like that, wouldn’t ya?”

And you nod ever so shamelessly, eyes pleading with him to make you feel full in some sort of capacity. “Ah,” he hums. “Once again, so quick to comply and say ‘yes’ to anything I tell ya. It’s kind of… pathetic.”

You let out a screech, fingers reaching for your hair and pulling ever so roughly. He’s forced you to bear out your neck, your chest heaving heavily as you pant. “Don’t you think so, too?”

You squeal out something incoherent, too fixated on the pain to contort anything understandable. However, his grip loosens as he once again pulls you in for a kiss, swallowing away the momentary pain. Pulling away once more, Bakugo looks at you to say, “don’t worry, doll. I promise to make ya feel good.”

He’s kept well on his promise, fingers stuffed inside of you as he’s still got you sat on the dresser. Legs spread open wide for him as he’s hell-bent on seeing just how well your pussy reacts to him. Your juices secrete onto the piece of furniture as your mind is fixated and captivated on this brute of a man. Two digits stuffed inside of you— thick and intimidating. The hands of a murderer, your subconscious whispers into the back of your mind, yet you can’t find the strength to fight him off. And you sure as hell don’t want to, especially when those said hands are being used to bring you to such immense pleasure right now. Has a man ever made you feel this good before?

You’re afraid to answer your own question as you’re letting another moan as your thighs begin to tighten and your sweet cunt starts clenching around his fingers. Your hand reaches to grab his wrists, but he’s unrelenting as he speeds up the pace. “Oh, God…” you cry out.

“No God here,” Bakugo smiles connivingly. “Just me, doll.”

“I— I’m gonna—”

“Let this pussy cream all over my fingers, baby,” he drawls, spreading your legs even wider with his free hand as he feels your walls pulsate around him. “Show me how much of a dirty slut you are for me.”

And the way your body follows his commands boosts his already inflated ego, a maniacal grin gracing his features as he watches your body convulse. Your mouth falls open in an ‘O’ as you have fallen speechless. A white band forms around the base of his fingers as he continues fingering you through your orgasm, a small puddle starting to form as it widens and sticks to your inner thighs as he watches you in delight. “Yeahhhh…” he breathes, barely above a whisper.

Not a complete asshole, he gives you a moment for you to relax before he’s pulling you out of your haze suddenly. Forcing your legs to wrap around his waist, he carries you over to the bed, dropping you on it and watching your body bounce on it as he’s caught you off guard. In this naked glory and now laying on the bed so vulnerably, it’s given Bakugo the better opportunity to ogle your body much more closely. He takes in your breasts and your curves down to your delectable cunt that still glistens from your orgasm. Eyes traveling back to your face, nothing beats those features of yours.

What’s a sweet little maid doing in the hands of him? You’ve surely lost your way.

Bakugo starts pulling off his own clothes, giving you a show that you have no intent on looking away from. And the way your pupils darken is all the reminder that he needs that you aren’t no saint. Reaching for his pants, he pulls at the buckle of the belt, dragging it from the loops with one aggressive swoop before dropping it on the bed. It could possibly find itself handy.

He maintains eye contact with you, as he watches you sit up on the bed. Unzipping his pants, he shimmies out of it before kicking them off and slowly crawling on the bed and over you. He feels like a predator who’s caught his prey and ready to devour you. Your eyes widen in expectancy, ready and waiting for him to pounce. Both now in an equally naked glory, you’re ready for whatever he has to give. However, from hovering over your body, he’s sitting up once more and removing such close proximity that has you confused and has you questioning his next move.

Until you feel a hand on your ankle. You can’t imagine the ease it takes to flip you over, not letting out a single grunt as he’s gotten you on your stomach now. Breasts pushed into the soft fabrics of the bed with a hand pushing down on your back as you feel his heavy-weight against you. The jingle of his belt comes to your ears as you look behind you, feeling both of your hands in his grip and he’s using the piece of leather to bind them together. He watches you intently as he smirks, “Can’t have ya movin’ ‘round while I use your perfect little pussy.”

He fixes you how he wants, forcing you on your knees as your upper body lays pliant and still. He’s got your ass and pussy out in the open for his use and he watches how your cunt is once again begging to be filled, clenching onto nothing in the search of friction. He’s got a hand around his length, hard and waiting to fill itself into you and ruin this pretty little body of yours. Dark shaft of his that’s veiny and cut tip leaking of pre, he rubs his head as the many possible ideas of what he could do to you rings throughout his mind. But with the aching throb of his cock, he knows he can’t keep withholding you what you want— what the both of you want.

With his body weight, he inches forward until you can feel his skin against you. His heavy cock in between the crevice of your ass as his body heat radiates off him like the scorching sun. Engulfed in his presence, your breath hitches as you tug on the tight restraints of the belt wrapped around your wrists. The raspy chuckle that escapes the man above you sends shivers down your spine as he leans into you. His chest presses against you as one hand grabs at the belt-bounded hands and the other helps align his cock with your entrance. “Y’think yer ready for the wild ride, doll? Cuz I don’t think I’ll stop once I start. This pussy just looks too good to give up.”

“Yes,” you huff out, nodding. “Please, I need you in me.”

He grins. “Whatever y’say.”

The walls of your apartment are paper thin, so you don’t doubt that your neighbors can hear your extracurricular activities. You’re not being considerate of their comfort at all as you shamelessly weil into the night. Skin slapping against skin, the wet sloshing sound of your juices sounding through your bedroom as Bakugo fucks you viciously. You’re crying out like a disgusting little whore, first whining about how he was too big of a stretch and now look at you. You’re not bitching anymore.

“Look at ya,” Bakugo grunts, keeping up the rough and torturous pace. “Taking my cock like the nasty little slut ya’re.”

A thumb prodding at your asshole, puckered and tight, Bakugo lets out a nice string of saliva trickle down in between your ass as he massages the next entrance. The action has you clenching as your nails dig into the palm of your hands, tensing up at the feeling of him teasing your hole. He slaps your ass, nonverbally reprimanding you. “Don’t tell me you can’t handle a finger up your ass now,” he mocks you. “Aww, don’t tell me you can’t handle it. Don’tcha wanna feel good? I know you do.”

You mewl, eyes shut as your face is stuffed into the comfort of your silk-clad pillow, you don’t utter a word to Bakugo. Can’t bring yourself to. “Don’t worry, doll—” For once, Bakugo’s a bit more gentle. Still keeping the exhausting pace of drilling your poor pussy, he rubs your ass with a gentleness. “—It’ll only hurt for a moment.”

He doesn’t give you any warnings, only pressing his thumb deeper until he can’t anymore. Just as he said, where one moment you were squealing in pain, the next your body relaxed as your nerves didn’t know what exactly to focus on. The beatings of your cunt or the thick digit invading your ass. Right as you got adjusted to the additional penetration, you let out a dragged moan that only had Bakugo smirking. “Told ya,” he says with a smack of your ass.

It’s all overwhelming, how you feel so full yet can’t reach behind you to touch Bakugo, to pull him impossibly closer to you. You whine and moan out, high-pitched sounds that’re like music to Bakugo’s ears as you jut your ass back into him. Your cock swallows him whole, your sweet cunt pulsating and clenching around his length in a desperation for him to breed you. And fuck is he tempted to. He can imagine the ropes of cum he could pour into you, mixing with that intoxicating nectar of yours.

His grunts and moans are guttural as he withholds his orgasm, waiting for that perfect moment. With his thumb still inside your hole, he presses the palm of his hand into your ass, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin and threatening to create dark bruises. “C’mon, doll. I ain’t got all night.”

You’re so close, you can feel it. In the pit of your stomach, that familiar churn rises up inside of you and bubbling up to be something deadly. “Fuck,” you cry. “‘M so close!” It’s inhumanly possible, but Bakugo speeds up even more, battering down on your pussy until you’re screeching out a garbled mess. White blurs your vision and if Bakugo was trying to say anything, you didn’t hear it. Your body spasms as you feel your inner thighs and the sheets beneath you get soaked. You don’t register the sudden hollowness you feel as Bakugo pulls out, the sight of you squirting getting him on so much that his orgasm follows yours shortly after. Ejaculating, he spurts his cum all over your back as your legs fall pliant as the last of your juices seep into your sheets and you can only lay in your mess.

Cock softening as droplets of his orgasm drip down your ass, Bakugo pants as he looks at the time. Half past three in the morning, he should really leave. He knows this, but he’s exhausted and if he makes more than five movements, he’s going to knock out for sure. “Fuck,” he curses as he climbs off you and falls to your left side. You’re panting heavily, chest rising and falling as Bakugo looks over at you. Your eyes feel heavy and you’re trying to force yourself to stay awake, but to no avail. With all the strength you have left, you spin to the side and your back towards the blonde in your bed. Bakugo snorts as he shuffles to turn away from you as well. G’night, he grunts out in his mind.

—

“I’m not a murderer, by the way.” Bakugo finds his way on the edge of the bed, his back towards you. The sun peeks out through your curtains, giving him the light he needs to get dressed. “Don’t think I’ve ever clarified that. I didn’t kill that poor piece of shit.”

He catches you off guard, making you turn around to view his back. Processing his words, you’re not sure if you believe him or not, but you decide to go along with it. You’ve already laid in bed with the man and you’ve given up on convincing yourself of the morals that you believed you once had. Was this a way to make you feel any better? “Then, what are you?” You didn’t mean for the little laugh to leave you at the end of your question, making it seem like you were doubting him. Though truthfully, you were.

“I just clean up the bodies after the murder,” he explains as he gets dressed, ignoring your little chuckle. He can’t blame you. “Someone else kills them and I hide the evidence that it even happened.”

“Oh,” you breathe, intrigued. There’s a job for that? Before you can answer any questions, he stands. Now fully clothed, all except for his shoes.

“Yeah,” he answers, gruffly. “I’ve sent out a recommendation for ya. You seem fit for the job, so I made a call to one of the higher ups to get in contact with ya.”

“You… you did?” Furrowing your eyebrows, it catches you off guard. “How’d… when did you even have the time to do that? You were pretty much glued to me the moment I walked in on you.”

Bakugo smirks. “I’ve got my ways—” Glancing at the clock, he silently curses to himself. “—Anyways, I’ve got to go. See ya around or whatever.”

Your eyes widen at the announcement of his departure, making you sit up in the bed and reach out to him. “Wait!”

“What?” he snaps back, glaring right at you now. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Is that it?” you ask, not sure what exactly that you’re asking. “Is there nothing else?”

“Nothing else to what?” he turns back around. “I’m pretty damn sure you won’t call the cops. That’d be stupid of ya.”

That smirk on his face. Moments ago, you found it to be such a sexually appealing thing, but now you just wanna smack it off his face. “Or what? You want me to say I had a good time with ya? Is that it, doll?”

Your face heats up as you grow flustered. “No.”

“If it makes you sleep better at night,” he crosses his arms, making them bulge even more. “I did.”

With that, he gives you another once over before reaching for the door. Without a goodbye, he swings it open and then shut as he quickly makes his departure.

—

SEVENTY-TWO HOURS LATER

Bang, bang, bang. Three hefty knocks at your door that makes you jump out of your seat from around your very small and quaint living area. You haven’t heard from Bakugo since he’s left, and you don’t know how you expect him to when you don’t even have any way to contact him. However, you were still hopeful— still had him on your mind since the moment he walked out of your small apartment. From the three knocks, you’re hoping that it’s him, coming to devour you like he did three days ago.

“Who is it?” you call out from the other side, but there’s no response. When you look through the small peep hole there’s no one there. Kissing your teeth, you’re about to head back to the couch when something in the back of your mind tells you to turn back around. When you do, you hear the small slip of paper slide from underneath the front door and there’s a singular letter sitting there right at your feet.

Picking it up, the envelope just has your name on it— first and last— nothing else. Not your address and not one from who or where it came from. It reminded you of some of the last things Bakugo told you. “I’ve sent out a recommendation for ya. You seem fit for the job, so I made a call to one of the higher ups to get in contact with ya.”

Ripping open the envelope, you let the tattered thing fall to the ground as you read letter:

Dear (Y/N),

It’s a shame to know that one of our trusted agents was caught during a mission. Truthfully, you should’ve been handled with more care and caution, but if it were to go that way, you wouldn’t be receiving such an invite like this. Agent #B354 has recommended you to join our very secretive profession to be part of our agency.

We will give you another twenty-four hours to make a decision and get your bearings together. Whether or not you accept this invitation, you will be sworn to secrecy about this organization or you will be dealt with accordingly— as you should’ve originally been. If you decide to join, welcome to the team Agent #Y976. If you decide that this profession isn’t for you, you’ll receive a non-disclosure agreement to sign and we wish you the best of luck in life.

NMC Organization

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