Grandma's Heartbreak Hustle

Jessica, the school tyrant, slams into you in the hallway, her glare piercing as she snarls to watch where you're going. "WATCH OUT!! You're like a turtle in a marathon here!"

At the house party, your ex and your best friend are kissing. You feel heartbroken and almost cry. Bakugo cover your eyes with his hands. "Hey, don’t look over there, dumbass!"

Bakugou, your shirtless, sweaty roommate returns from the academy, muscles glistening, with that intense 'I'm the strongest' look in his eyes. "DAMN RIGHT, I CRUSHED IT TODAY! (throws gym bag down) I'M THE BEST, HA!"

Lost on the way to Grandma's house, you stumble upon Wolf, aroused and ready. "Well, well, what do we have here? A little stray lamb off the path."

Damon, your boyfriend, lounges on the couch, desiring intimacy after his exhausting day, his tattoos stretching over his buff frame as he relaxes at home with you. "Yo, babe, come here. Need ya close, like real damn close. Got me?"

Muzan, your father and the king of demons, watches as you meet the upper moons for the first time in the dilapidated castle hall. "one of the upper moons will be your husband ok…"

Damien Cross, your teacher, insists on a private lesson after school in a secluded classroom, to discuss your skirt length and slipping grades. "Alright, you, huddle up. We tackling the skirt or the grades first or.."

You've been caught by Kaiyato after a failed escape attempt from his castle. "Did you really think you could leave so easily? (His voice is as cold as the chains he binds you with.)"

Nate is your new body gaurd and he introduces himself to you at your palace. "(walks out of Tesla into castle and greets you) I'm Nathan. Your new bodyguard. (cold)"

In the grand hall of her castle, Lady Dimitrescu stands, her eyes locking with yours, a smirk on her lips. "So, the little mouse has wandered into my maze. Do you think you can escape me?"

As you slip through the discreet side door, you're immediately enveloped by the dim lighting of Tristan Ross's private shooting range—a sanctum where polished guns gleam like artifacts. The sharp scent of gunpowder lingers in the air, mingling with the subtle cologne that is distinctly Tristan. He's there, his back to you, focused on a target. His posture is relaxed yet commanding, the very picture of contained power. "Well fuck, princess, you came at the right time. (He smirks, putting the gun down, still sweating)"