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quaddmgd · 1 year

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Thoughts on Yakuza

I finished the original Yakuza for PS2 with Yakuza Restored re-translation patch I was talking about. I beat the game, including every substory (except hostesses) and Amon. I enjoyed it much more than I originally assumed I would, I had a lot of fun throughout the week, however I can't say it's a must-play PS2 classic, even though I really want it to be. Yet I believe it's a good way to either start your journey with the series or play more of your favorite franchise while you wait for a new game.

First things first, the translation patch is a godsend, without which I wouldn't be able to approach this game seriously. My japanese is non-existent as of now, so the original Ryu Ga Gotoku release wouldn't be for me; on the other side the western translation + dub don't do this game justice, to put it lightly. Ability to play it with english subs more in-line with later games in the franchise, with the original dub, is a dream come true and I can confirm that now, it's writing is on Kiwami level of quality.

This review contains spoilers for Yakuza/Yakuza Kiwami. Comparisons to the latter are a big focus throughout this text, so it's mostly for people familiar with the story and the overall structure of either one. This game is a good start for newcomers, especially with the patch, but this review isn't.

Plot

I'm not a fan of the plot of the first game, albeit it was much more bearable now, than when playing Kiwami, just after 0. Judging it as a first game in the franchise was much easier. People that played only Kiwami should feel right at home, and sometimes even better.

Contrary to Kiwami, Yakuza is much more straightforward. Additional Nishiki cutscenes are absent here and his Joker arc will probably raise eyebrows for most. It's not well explained at all and, due to pacing of the story leaving a lot to be desired, most of his motivations are touched upon during the finale. Fortunately, Nishiki is charismatic enough to make a good villain and I enjoyed following his development throughout the game nonetheless.

What's also missing is the entire "get the ring" quest that is forced on the player in Kiwami. Honestly, I'm happy with it being gone, as its inclusion wasn't really done well. I'd love to see those cutscenes, but during my first Kiwami playthrough in 2019 it really confused the heck out of me timeline-wise. My biggest problem with it was, that the gameplay consisted only of rage-inducing fetch quests, that don't have a place in the prologue of such a story-focused game.

I feel like I need to talk about Majima for a bit. No matter if you play the original or Kiwami, his behavior is out-of-place in context of the entire franchise. Playing Yakuza and judging it on its own merit helped me see him as this unpredictable chaotic evil psycho with a questionable motivation. The lack of "Majima Everywhere" works in favor of that feeling, as there are no longer those weird out-of-place pace-breakers, where he pauses the entire plot development to have Kiryu fight with his goofy self from future installments, after which he goes back to being his Yakuza 1 self and almost killing people for no reason (chapter 11 in Kiwami was the worst in that regard). Here, he just diversifies the cast without becoming a nuisance.

Fighting

Before I touch on the gameplay, in need to mention that I played through the game doing every substory as soon as they became available, due to many of them being missable. That being said, I fought Amon in Chapter 11, just before visiting Shangri-La with Haruka. Soon, after visiting the place, I maxed out my skills in the menu and with Komaki.

The biggest issue of Yakuza is its fighting mechanics. Kiryu is really slow, which isn't a problem on it's own, but his inability to lock-on while performing a combo makes it hundred times worse. For the most part I didn't have an issue with that, as most enemies are quite slow (gosh Shimano was so easy in contrast to his Kiwami self), but performing almost any combo on characters that constantly dodge attacks, sends Kiryu punching air. The faster the enemy, the bigger this issue becomes, so for example, both fights with Majima were quite hard to get through. Same goes for enemies with guns, like Arase or Amon. Hell, it's safe to say that most of Amon's difficulty is related to Kiryu's slowness and lack of lock-on in this game.

That being said, most fights weren't a problem, and even those that were, were much easier and more enjoyable than in Kiwami. In the original, enemies don't heal themselves and aren't based off other bosses that made appearance in the franchise starting with PS3 games. I can count the times I died while playing main story on one hand (barely) and went through bosses with ease, including Arase, and even more surprisingly, Jingu - I hated their guts in Kiwami.

Keep in mind, that at any time, Kiryu's skills were as developed as possible, due to me focusing on beating substories over story, while I played Kiwami the opposite way. I am also a big Yakuza 3 apologist, so I don't have an issue with a more technical approach to fighting. I kinda learned how to exploit the weaknesses of most enemies, but dealing with fast enemies was problematic anyway. I can imagine that people that want to just enjoy the story, will encounter some serious difficulty spikes, whenever someone fast appears. That can be a dealbreaker for some and it's the biggest flaw of the game. It's not a good brawler. There were times where I died fighting during substories or random encounters, because my opponent happened to be good at dodging and blocking.

Playing only for the plot could be troublesome in the case of Yakuza. Kiryu doesn't even have his □□□□△ combo until he levels up a bit. Not only that, but this time Komaki won't teach him anything until he levels up quite much, and as always, there are some useful Komaki moves you want to learn. I'm not gonna try it anytime soon, but I reckon doing some of the best substories in the game would improve the overall experience greatly. Fighting in Purgatory helps to level up too.

Substories

By and large, Yakuza's substories are nothing special. Most of them are uninteresting and short. There are some quests that flesh out Kiryu's and Haruka's relationship or help develop him into a better person he becomes in the end. Most of those are in Kiwami too, but there is a caveat.

Yakuza has the biggest amount of substories with animated cutscenes. These are present in Kiwami with an exception of one, that is set entirely in the underground casino (I don't know why they left it out, it has some good implications). Yakuza, though, has a time limit for most of them. After certain points in the story (mainly finishing chapters), the most interesting substories become unavailable. It's a big flaw, obviously, especially that at times there is no mention of them being available (or, in case of "The Truth Behind Fake Mizuki", they are accessible only in-between two consecutive interactions with story characters). The fact that substory locations aren't visible on the map doesn't help; playing with a guide is essential to beat them all, especially if you don't want to fail any.

There are advantages to these substories of course, but I'm really glad they aren't like that in every game. Time-sensitivity is a thing only for the most important quests, and that ensures you play them when developers want you to, even if their availability often isn't conveyed to you at all.

I also loved how many times Kiryu can get scammed when interacting with people on the streets. In general, NPCs Kiryu's interacting with are either unpleasant or someone is being unpleasant to them. Thanks to that, fights that often break out feel more natural and Kamurocho really feels like a place you wouldn't want to be in.

There is one more upside worth of mentioning - there are substories that have animated cutscenes, whereas in Kiwami they don't. Now, there are only two I'm aware of: "The Price of an F-Cup" and "The Truth Behind Fake Mizuki". Both of them being animated like story cutscenes, enhance the weight of stories they want to tell. In the former, Mai goes into a physical contact with Kiryu, they don't just sit and awkwardly look at each other. But it's the attention to the latter that makes it worth mentioning at all. The finale of "Fake Mizuki" is really somber due to what it implies. Where in Kiwami plays a typical sad substory music and there practically no animations, in the original it's fully voiced and animated, with emotions visible on pAres's owner's face with the nightsky and snow falling in the background (the quest is time-sensitive after all), accompanied by a dedicated sorrowful track - finished with nothing but silence and the weight of implications it made.

Graphics and audio

When it comes to visuals, the original impressed me much more than Kiwami. Crowds and the environmental detail are superb for a PS2 game - Kamurocho is simply full of life, even in 2005. I completely understand decisions behind the fixed camera view and splitting Kamurocho into separate zones, even if it means constant loadings between camera cuts. While loading was getting tiresome after fifteen hours, the intended feeling remained.

Even though for the most part locations are comparable, I loved how Tojo Clan HQ looks in the original. Even if it appears only two times, it nails the atmosphere, especially in chapter 3. Contrary to sunny and clean presentation in Kiwami (a good one, I must say), the original adds to the significance of the funeral, with an overcast weather, paths laid out with fallen autumn leaves, covered in a slightly yellow-ish filter that makes it look like it's about to rain. How is it that any time Tojo Clan HQ appears in a RGG Studio game, it becomes my favorite location in that game?

My knowledge on music is non-existent, so I can't really say much about the soundtrack, other than that it's great to listen to and Kiwami's electronic spin on it is quite good too. I prefer the original due to it's use of vocals (I can't remember that well, but Yakuza seems to have more of them) and dirty guitar riffs, that in my view slowly disappeared from the franchise over time. They greatly emphasize the rawness and brutality of the combat.

What I can say, though, is that I love finally hearing original Receive You in the opening and the instrumental version during both Majima fights. I love this track so much, it defines the entire franchise, just as it should. Whenever I hear it, it's instant goosebumps for me.

Is it worth to play now?

From my standpoint, yes! But only in japanese or with Yakuza Restored patch. For the newcomers to the franchise, it's a good way to start, as long as you are ok with janky gameplay. That way you can assist Kiryu, as he and the nature of this series develop. If you're like me and already played through the franchise, but didn't play the original, why not try the game that started it all? It does some things differently than Kiwami; some even better. It's worth keeping in mind that it's a flawed PS2 title, the one to start a still ongoing franchise, but a lot of love has been put into making this game and it shows.

To think that the original western release would put me off for the entire four years since I know this series. Compared to the original version, tonally it's so different and seems out-of-place. I'm so grateful for this patch, so if you're interested, please try it and give some love to the creator.

#yakuza #yakuza restored #ryu ga gotoku #like a dragon #ps2 #text.qd #screen.qd #it's... almost a review #the first one in almost 7 years #and it's the biggest piece i've ever writen for this blog #i can only hope it's readable #thanks to halcyon for proofreading it for me #i changed some sentences afterwards though #not for worse i hope

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kureis-writing-hell · 1 year

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RED program au post canon

Since I made (and plan to make more) fics regarding Chisaki being out of jail I decided to gather some basis for that storyline to make it less confusing.

It's sort of continuation of this post but I want this au to be canon compliant and we don't know yet what's gonna happen to Chisaki.

So this is kinda part 3. Feel free to ask about it!

• Bringing the villain back into the society is a crucial point in the RED program.

• Chisaki is granted a social apartment in a quiet part of Tokyo.

• He wears an ankle bracelet that alerts police and heroes taking care of him if he leaves his zone.

• The zone is quite big - he can walk a few kilometers away from his flat.

• The zone contains necessities: a mall, a park, a coffee shop, a small clinic etc.

• Chisaki must attend counseling twice a week, has 6 months to find a job. After this time he gets evaluated regarding the continuation of the program.

• Nao is not his counselor anymore, but stays close anyway. He helps Chisaki to get out of his flat on daily basis.

• Chisaki wears advanced prosthetics gifted to him by Nao’s boss. He doesn't know there's a tracker in them as well.

• He finds a job at a nearby konbini - an older man hires him as a help around the shop.

• Because Chisaki is reluctant to leave his flat and usually disguise himself outside he's considered an urban legend in the neighborhood.

• Everyone knows there's an ex villain living there but it's very hard to spot him.

• Apart from a few individuals people don't care much about Chisaki living there.

• They did at the start but got used to that fact after a while.

• Chisaki is also quite popular with older ladies. Once they learn he's not harmful and easy to order around they start using his help frequently.

• Being raised in yakuza made him polite to the elderly after all.

May add more!

#bnha #overhaul #mha #chisaki kai #overhaul x oc #red program #bnha oc #redemption au

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tonya-the-chicken · 1 year

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To be fair I feel it's unfair coz what made Muscular the way he is? And how is a simple convo that would go the same with Shiggy enough to convince? Rappa is a good guy coz hes a chaotic neutral trope but he couldn't care less about Eri being tortured but coz he just is a meathead who is implied to have fought with parents and run off to be a fighter he's a good guy suddenly. Also we know Overhaul's tragedy but he's a nobody? And why forget Moonfish, Mustard and the other "good"er Yakuzas?

On one hand, I always felt the manga will go this way. Deku is a better hero than All Might, that's established from the start. A number of themes were raised to show society's flaws like abuse, poverty, and prejudices that pushed people into villainy. It could be guessed that one of the way Deku's time would be different from All Might's is that the approach to fixing society would be more structural and not symbolic. Villain rehabilitation is hinted at here and there. They are not all evil and some of them just ended up in bad circumstances

On the second hand, Hori doesn't go all in with delivering this message. 1) Maybe because the manga is so overfilled with characters and themes or 2) maybe he doesn't want to make stances that would end up too political. Criminal rehabilitation is an actual real-life thing, writing it openly and clearly as a good thing is making a statement. It's a bit softer to talk about "saving" the bad guys and making villains way too sympathetic. 3) It also feels like a lack of knowledge on how exactly such things work. Like he never encountered an absolutely tragic person, who suffered greatly because of their stupid harmful actions and yet refused any help. It's naïve to expect you can save anyone and he tries to put it with Muscular's case but then. The line between who can be saved and who can't is unclear. It's blurry. Why is one character treated this way and another pretty the same differently? This hypocrisy is fine in storytelling (they are just not important as a character) but bad if you want to drive a message across... And 4) showing something as a better solution will require you to criticize the previous solutions. That Horikoshi doesn't do at all. He wants to keep All Might as a symbol of perfection while showcasing all the dirt under the rug. His solution was purely cosmetic, why not say it out loud? It didn't fix anything, it just made people safe for as long as one (1) man is alive and well. The worst security system I have ever seen. In conclusion, Horikoshi doesn't go all out, doesn't apply the "rules" to everyone, and ends up inconsistent, like he doesn't understand how certain thing works, making it all sound unbelievable

On the third hand, is shounen action manga with plenty of violence a place to say violence is bad at all? There are a lot of "rules of the genre" and heroes fighting villains is a classic one, yet Horikoshi ends up making a statement against violence or killing villains. But then they have to kill AFO without any questions. He points out that the thing™ is bad but our heroes were doing the thing™ from the very start and they don't end up overthinking their ways. He questions the rules of the genre without subverting them. It's a one-time thing that doesn't change anything globally so we end up with big major points that lead to anything. It feels like a conflict between what Horikoshi tries to say and what kind of story he writes (probably tied to previous point)

On the fourth hand, I was in a twitter argument about this ones and I really enjoy winning it post factum

Muscular is bad because he is bad, born this way perhaps but Toga is bad (born this way) and we pity her. Muscular is bad because he enjoys suffering but then so does Dabi and he is given more sympathy than ever. They deserve saving because they are the main characters is what I am thinking and Muscular is there to be shown a lesson. I wish it was one of the main cast who could be used for it, that would drive the point better but that would mean having a good nuanced position on something and making a statement and being smart

I would say Rappa is in the gray area, not really a good guy but he plays this role in Vigilantes. Curious. I wished that Shie Hassaikai would join the heroes at the end to showcase the growth perhaps but ugh eh why do this

I need to wrap this whole thing up. I think Hori wanted to write a smart manga with criticism of society but ended up writing some Naruto-style mess where so many things are happening that nothing really matters. You give up trying to find a point but then there are so many hints here and there that fandom arrives at the opposite ideas and fights all day long. LoV are revolutionaries let's go

#asks #bnha #bnha manga spoilers #Please don't treat this as a meta I can express my points better and I am still in pajamas

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choppedcowboydinosaur · 2 years

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Snake Eyes review

I originally had very mixed feelings towards this film now I just feel disappointment. The Snake Eyes movie is such a massive disappointment. If you are a hardcore fan of the character I would not recommend this movie. The film serves as an origin story for Snake Eyes but changes so many things and is so severely flawed.

Snake Eyes wants revenge for the death of his father so he infiltrates the Arashikage clan to gain info on it and takes advantage of Storm Shadow’s trust. Snake eyes comes off like an asshole in this film and gets a “redemption” but it never feels earned. Storm shadow is punished for a really minor transgression. Now I get the idea of what they’re doing here by showing a villainous person getting redeemed while a heroic person becomes corrupted. The idea is interesting, but it’s done so poorly here that it doesn’t work. Since as mentioned before Snake Eye’s redemption feels unearned and Storm Shadow got punished for something relatively minor. The story feels meh. In order to infiltrate the clan he must go through these trials but it’s so predictable and generic I couldn’t give a shit. The main bad guy is a member of the clan who was banished and now runs with the Yakuza. He wants a jewel the clan has so he can use it as a super weapon. He teams up with Cobra in order to get it. It feels like something out of the 80′s cartoon but with none of the charm.

The plot in the comics is that both Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow where Vietnam vets and when Snake Eyes’ family dies in a car accident when he returns from the war. During the war Storm Shadow offers him to come to Japan with him to join the family business but Snake Eyes refuses. Since he has nowhere else to go and takes up Storm Shadow’s offer to join the family business which happens to be being ninjas of the Arashikage clan. He becomes skilled in ninjutsu and is praised for it which makes Storm Shadow a bit jealous. And as this rivalry intensifies The Hardmaster, one of the elders of the Arashikage clan is killed with a bow and arrow that belongs to Storm Shadow. This leads Snake Eyes to avenge the Hardmaster’s death and Storm Shadow on the run and joins Cobra. But in reality Storm Shadow was innocent and only joined Cobra to gain intel on the Hardmaster’s killer. So once Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow learn the truth of the Hardmaster’s death they go after Cobra. Because it’s revealed Zartan was the one who killed the Hardmaster and Cobra Commander order the hit. So, Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow become allies and fight Cobra together. This should have been the story for the movie rather than what they did here. If you need to update it just change the war from Vietnam to Afghanistan. It’s a shame they didn’t adapt this story since it’s so cool and tragic. Instead, we get this crap.

Now onto the acting. Henry Golding struggles a bit with doing an American accent. Also, they have him without the mask and he only puts it on at the end of the movie. It’s shitty but also predictable. I can give some leeway for wanting to have him talk since it’s his origin story but they fucked that up so they might as well just have him already be Snake Eyes and keep the mask on. The reason why the mask is so important is because underneath it he’s scarred and mute. He received these scars when he had to save Scarlet on a mission and professed his love for Scarlet before he lost his voice. It’s tragic and cool at the same time. You could still have him act with the mask on through body language. Vigo Mortensen did it in V for Vendetta so it’s possible. They do a race change for Snake Eyes since in the comics he’s white while in the movie he’s Asian. And as much as I dislike race changes, casting a white actor in the role of Snake Eyes would not have saved this movie. Since the problem is with the script. I like Andrew Koji as Storm Shadow. He’s very believable as Storm Shadow and you can tell he was raised from birth to lead the clan. I like the Baroness and Scarlet. There is no girl power solidarity here except for one scene where they have to temporarily team up and the Baroness bails out pretty quickly. Even the movie seems to acknowledge how dumb it is since Scarlet’s actress can barely contain her laughter when they team up and pose. The Baroness just enjoys being evil which is refreshing for a female villain. You could make a movie about those two with Scarlet chasing the Baroness across the globe. They kind of waste of Iko Uwais which is a shame because he is a badass.

Ultimately, this movie is very mediocre. In fact it’s so mediocre I felt like I wasted my time watching it. It’s a shame since Snake Eyes as a character is so cool and has so much potential but the live action movies never seem to get it right. The one exception being the mountain fight in GI Joe Retaliation. I fear this may taint the character more and prevent further live action adaptations of GI Joe. Perhaps, this could be a blessing since they can try doing some animated movies instead. Either way, this movie is a big disappointment.

#snake eyes #gi joe #movie review #snake eyes movie #scarlet #baroness #arashikage #storm shadow

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leviiackrman · 1 year

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🗑 + Asami and Rin?

I feel I may have mentioned this before, but Asami was originally going to have a much older sister who HATED her for ‘killing their mum’ during childbirth…this was too similar to existing storylines in the manga so I scrapped the whole sister idea and tweaked her backstory! Can read about that whole idea more here

Asami was also going to be a lot more outgoing, with her personality being quite similar to Mina (super extroverted and outspoken) but there were so many characters like that in class 1A, that I felt they needed someone a bit more… motherly? Who took care of everyone when they needed it even if they didn’t think they did!

I also had imagined both her parents would be fully fledged heroes but both died when she was young, but then I went with her dad being the sidekick to her mum as a hero (which is still pretty much what it is now) but instead he raised her alone and became a teacher at UA after she died

Rins original creation was crazy actually lmao, lemme rant for a sec: so Rin was originally called Labyrinth - nickname ‘Rin’, a time travelling/world travelling vigilante who collected items/intel from fictional/alternate realities to aid her mentor/scientist friends plans to save the world she was from! She was created by the scientist in question as a robot assistant but she wasn’t aware of this, she just thought she was a normal human that was ‘modified’ by him

This was mainly an excuse for her to meet all my faves from a bunch of different animes etc and be this odd character that popped into their worlds/story’s for a short amount of time, stole some equipment or ancient artefact and then went on to the next world using this bracelet that teleported her though all of them! I still love this idea and have lots of plans for it, but will be developing this as a completely original and/or self indulgent oc instead haha

She also teleported into the MHA world by accident and wound up getting caught up with the league of villains, then started working with dabi and was having this kinda fling relationship before she had to leave their world again and never see him again lmao (yeh…talk about self indulgent…) but anyway yeh she was NOT what she is now lemme tell ya

Once she was the Rin we know and love, I struggled with finding the right motivation for her villainous ways and went between her just loving to cause chaos, as well as a bunch of other things but mainly just went with ‘she’s from a villain family/yakuza - crime is in her blood and she longs to be the boss’ kinda vibe

There was a whole separate thing as well where she was a romance for Hawks and the character had Rins quirk but this was just a one off day dream and didn’t become anything else aha

Send me a 🗑️ and I’ll tell you a scrapped OC idea

#misc: asks #d-vx #oc: asami enatsu #oc: rin kyutoku #thank you sm gorgeous!!

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jackrrabbit · 4 years

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Spoiled Rotten /// Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)

Request: What if Overhaul fucks spoiled rich reader because her dad owes the yakuza money and in exchange Kai takes the daughter as a form of payment using her as his personal stress doll whenever and wherever he wants making her into his perfect little doll

A/N: While I was writing this my roommate asked if I was okay bc cause I kept stopping to fan myself and blush lmaooooo god I’m such a brat. I did change the concept up a bit, hope that’s fine!

This is dedicated not only to the OG requester but also to everyone who read the excerpt I posted a while back and told me they couldn’t wait to see the finished product!! Love you guys ❤️

Tags/warnings: threats, dubcon/coercion, dom/sub, brat taming, degradation, exhibitionism, restraints, mentions of forced prostitution, verbal & physical harassment, kidnapping, kinda breath play?, long

The first thing you notice when you come to are voices. Multiple people talking to each other, speech overlapping in patterns you can’t make out. They’re quiet—not whispering for your sake, but quiet because you’re still half knocked-out and you can barely hear.

The second thing you notice is the pounding in your head and the lingering smell of something sweet spread over your nose and mouth.

The third thing you notice is the fact that when you try to blink your eyes open, your lashes brush against something soft and dark. You’re blindfolded…and gagged, and your hands feel like they’re cuffed behind your back. From what you can sense around you, it seems like you’re hunched in a kneeling position with your cheek flattened against the floor and your bare feet tucked under your backside.

At least you’re still in your nightgown. You can feel the frilly silk of it, a useless barrier between your skin and the cool air, and it reminds you of how you got here in the first place.

A loud noise in the night. Your father’s voice pleading. A heavy thump. The door to your bedroom banging open and a strange man holding you down to your bed…lifting a sweet-smelling rag to your mouth…telling you to “take a deeeeep breath, princess.”

“Hey, I think she’s waking up.”

An invisible hand fists itself in your hair and you whine in pain as your upper body is lifted off the floor. Once you’re properly upright, you hear squeaking, shoes against concrete, and the heat and breath and presence of someone behind you. Something rustles at the back of your head—you’re too scared to move so you stay still—and then the blindfold is being lifted off your face.

Once it’s gone, you have to blink for a moment even despite the low light of the dingy room where you’ve…apparently…been kidnapped. By the freaking yakuza. And for some reason, they’re all wearing bird-beak masks.

You close your eyes, almost wishing they hadn’t taken the blindfold off. You’d prefer to live in blissful ignorance of how decidedly unclean the floor is. How dare they let your face touch it? What happened to honor among thieves?

“Do you know why you’re here?”

Against your will, your eyes flick up to the speaker. He’s the only one sitting, and somehow that gives him a position of power among the others. The leader?

Unsettling golden eyes rest on yours, and you realize he’s waiting for your answer, so you slowly move your head from side to side.

“Didn’t know about daddy’s bad habits, huh?” This time the person speaking is behind you, the one who untied your blindfold, a thin man with lank, greasy blond hair. He’s the one who drugged me, you remember in a surge of panic, and you try to stand up away from him only for him to step on the chain that connects your handcuffs, jerking you back and pinning you—painfully—to the floor.

“Careful, Setsuno. I told you not to leave marks. Let her talk.”

“Got it, boss.” The blond—Setsuno—fumbles at the back of your head and then he’s pulling the gag out of your mouth.

You open and close your mouth a few times to stretch out the stiff muscles. “Oh. My. God. Was that polyester you just took out of my mouth? Do you have any idea how bad synthetics are for sensitive skin? I’m totally going to break out.”

A hush falls over the little room. You could hear a pin drop.

“…Are you complaining about the quality of the fabric we gagged you with?” the leader asks after a second.

“You may be yakuza, but you don’t have to act like savages,” you reply primly, aligning your knees together and sending a proud look off to the side.

“Ohh…little princess deserves better, does she?” Setsuno coos. He edges closer to rub his cheek against yours and laughs when you cringe away from him. “Boss, you shoulda seen her bedroom. All pink and frilly, looked like royalty lived there. Bet they treat you like a real princess at home, huh? No wonder your daddy’s in debt.”

“Daddy isn’t—“

“Your father…took out loans from my gang. My men came last night to collect,” the leader says, drumming his fingers over the armrest of his chair impatiently.

He’s wearing plastic gloves. Why is he wearing plastic gloves? Immediately your mind is spinning, imagining all the different gruesome possibilities of what they’re going to do to you. “That’s ridiculous. My daddy doesn’t need to borrow money—“

“Clearly he does, because it looks like he pissed it all away on his daughter.” The leader’s eyes are cold enough to make you shiver—although maybe that’s just the icy temperature of the floor soaking through your nightgown.

“He had a couple payments overdue, so we stopped by to ask nicely for him to pay up,” Setsuno says, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Didn’t find too many valuables in your house, but then we got our hands on a real treasure.”

“Don’t touch me—“

“You don’t seem to understand the position you’re in,” the leader says. “When I made my contract with your father, he understood that obligations like these are inherited. Since he can’t pay his debt, you’re going to be working it off in his place.”

Working it off? You swallow. Somehow you don’t think he’s talking about your little part-time job as a receptionist at your daddy’s company. “You can’t make me do that.”

“I’m not sure you’re getting the gist, princess,” Setsuno hums. “What we’re gonna do is we’re gonna put you in a room, and then men are gonna give us money, and then we’ll let those men fuck you. All that money’s gonna go toward paying what your daddy borrowed. Sound good?”

For the first time since you can remember, you’re shocked speechless. They’re going to…what? But you’re a quick thinker, and instead of letting these filthy, awful gangters boss you around, you raise your chin haughtily to look directly into the leader’s eyes. “I don’t think so. If Daddy’s the one who got himself in debt, you can make him whore himself out to pay it back. You can’t hold me responsible for something he’s done.”

Another brief silence, and then you hear a whistle echo out from the corner of the room (and you try not to look toward it, reminding yourself that this can only get worse if they know how scared you are). “She’s got a mouth on her, Overhaul,” someone says.

Overhaul. So the leader’s name is Overhaul. How ridiculous; it sounds like a villain’s name.

“Aww, princess,” Setsuno says, and once again his voice is too close for your comfort. “Little spoiled princess doesn’t know how to shut her mouth and suck it up when things don’t go her way? Well…you’ll learn.”

You don’t want to know what he’s talking about, although if you thought about it for more than a second it’d be obvious. You suck in a harsh breath and the cool, damp air stings against your dry throat. “You can’t just make me—“

“Ohh, I think we can. See, if your daddy’s been spending all of the Shie Hassaikai’s money on his precious daughter, don’t you think you owe a little too? Like, this dress—“ you jump as Setsuno’s hand tugs on the thin, floaty silk— “was bought with Overhaul’s money, so it belongs to him, right?”

You keep quiet, not wanting to prompt him to go further, but when his hands stroke up over your waist to grope your breasts in full view of everyone else in the room, you don’t really have to guess.

“And, y’know, your daddy’s been keeping you nice and healthy with Overhaul’s cash, making sure you grow up into such a pretty girl…” Setsuno’s voice is a purr in your ear as his hands squeeze your tits almost lovingly, then pinch your nipples through the fabric. “So hey—if you think about it, this tight little body…belongs to Overhaul too. Isn’t that right, sir?”

You squirm in place as best you can but with the metal cuffs digging into your wrists, there’s nothing you can do to get away from his touch. You’re desperate enough to shoot a terrified glance up at the leader—surely there are rules about treating an innocent girl like this, even for the yakuza—but he looks as unmoved as before. “Get her out of my sight. We’ll give her a rest for the next few days, and then…”

“No!” you yelp, too panicked to keep up the pretense of confidence. “I won’t, I can’t do that, please don’t make me—“

“Shhh. You’ll get used to it, princess. And if you don’t…” Setsuno’s hand combs though your hair and then trails down your neck, tracing the path of your spine between your shoulder blades. “…well, you won’t really have much of a choice, will you?”

And then he’s tugging on your cuffed hands, pulling you to a standing position, but you wriggle away from him and do everything you can to stay planted on the ground so they can’t take you away from here, away from the only man who is capable of stopping this. Overhaul. “Please! I’m— I can work it off another way! I’ll be useful— I’ll—“

Overhaul leans forward a fraction in his chair, and you wonder if you’ve caught his interest. “What, exactly? How do you think you can be useful to me?”

You bite your lip and wrack your brains, not knowing whether the question is rhetorical. What skills do you have that would be valuable to them? Suddenly all the knowledge you’ve gained in your short life seems so meaningless. You’re a decent receptionist (well, decent is a stretch), but if Overhaul wanted someone to answer calls for him you’re pretty sure he would’ve asked.

Why did you spend your life learning such impractical skills? The four-year weekend course you took on horseback riding jumps to mind and you want to hit your head against the wall. Why didn’t you ask your father to sponsor a class in something that would actually matter in the long run? And what would even be useful to these people? Accounting? Bookkeeping? Extortion?

There’s nothing valuable you can offer. You’ve wasted your life, and now you’re going to pay for it. Seriously, the only thing you’re actually good at is keeping your boyfriends (or, rather, the men you cycle through once a month) happy until the novelty wears off and you get bored and move on to the next lovesick target—

—wait. Keeping your boyfriends happy. That’s a skill, isn’t it?

Once, a little bit after you turned eighteen, you’d had a rather illicit conversation with one of your more sexually adventurous friends about being a sugar baby. Your friend had just secured a very generous benefactor, and you’d been so intrigued by all the designer purses and vacations to Cabo that you’d almost considered trying it for yourself. She’d even helped you set up a profile on Seeking Arrangements that listed your physical features and interests, but you’d blanched when it came time to post photos.

“But why do men even like this?” you'd asked your friend after your picture-less profile received its dozenth unsolicited offer. “Rich, successful guys shouldn’t have so much trouble finding girlfriends that they have to resort to paying for sex.”

“It’s a power trip,” she’d replied. “Most men never get the chance to have a woman who’s willing to do and be whatever he wants, whenever he wants it. You’re his ideal girlfriend, his therapist, his wife, and his stress relief all in one.”

At the time, you’d decided against it, deleting your profile and telling your friend you’d rather just keep taking advantage of your real father doting on you than have to fake orgasms for rich men in their 50’s. But back then, you’d had a choice; now that you’ve been kidnapped by a gang who wants you to get fucked by a bevy of strangers to pay off a debt you’ve never even heard of, you no longer have the privilege of a way out. Or, at least, the options are a lot less appealing than before.

You tilt your head back to Overhaul, eyeing him for the first time with real scrutiny instead of prideful disgust. Judging from what you can see of his face under the ornate bird mask (and again, what is with the freaking bird masks?), he’s fairly young, mid-twenties at the oldest. Short, sort of wavy dark hair (you’ve always had a thing for dark hair), a trim suit and tie, and those eyes. Like he can read your mind just looking at you.

He’s…handsome enough, you have to admit to yourself. But it’s not just that. There’s something pristine about him, something untouchable that commands discipline. He’s clean. You and him are probably the only clean things in this hovel of a room.

“Well? I’m waiting,” Overhaul says.

And now that you’ve got the idea in your head, it’s almost too embarrassing to meet his gaze. But you can do this; you have to do this. At least it’ll be your choice, and—you’re hoping—it’ll be better than the alternative.

“I could be yours,” you tell him, taking pride in the fact that your voice isn’t breaking.

His eyes narrow and you think god, his eyelashes are long. It’s not fair. Men never appreciate having long eyelashes. What is he thinking? Is he going to kill you for even suggesting it? But it’s too late now…you have to dig yourself a little deeper if you don’t want to go through with their original plan for debt fulfillment.

You force your muscles to relax, knowing this’ll be impossible to pull off if you’re tense and biting down on the words like they’re going to choke you. If you’re going to make him believe it, you have to make yourself believe it too. “You… This job must be hard. Even for a—a powerful man like you, it has to be stressful, right? Always looking out for the interests of the gang instead of your own…needs.”

Overhaul doesn’t move, but you’re so focused on him it would be impossible for you to miss the way a single muscle in his neck flexes. You’ve hit a nerve.

You take a cautious step toward him, trying to channel the sexually-liberated vixen you consider yourself when you’re not in your nightgown surrounded by men who could murder you with their bare hands and not miss a minute of sleep. “You’re always giving, aren’t you? Looking toward the future of the gang? Doesn’t it get frustrating when—when a pretty thing is in front of you and you don’t even get…a little taste of her?”

Oh god, you can feel the humiliated heat rushing to your cheeks. How can you be saying this? You’ve played the role of seductress plenty of times before, but never in such a risky situation. You just have to keep moving toward him and hope it feels authentic enough to convince him.

“You’ve worked hard. And…like he said, my—my body belongs to you.” Now you’re close enough to Overhaul and he hasn’t stopped you, so you lower yourself onto the floor, knees bumping softly into the cold surface. Kneeling between his legs.

Overhaul stares down at you, gaze as sharp and cold as before—and you’re sick with anxiety, so scared you can feel your hairs raising up on end—but if he wanted you to stop, he would have said something, right? So you shuffle a little closer and nuzzle your cheek over the inside of his clothed thigh like a kitten, then raise your head up to him to give him your best bedroom look, the one that says, I want you. I need you. No one but you. The look no man has ever been able to resist.

“…You deserve something to yourself, sir,” you murmur.

There’s a collective intake of breath as every person in the room simultaneously realizes what you’re offering. Overhaul’s expression doesn’t change, but once again, a tendon jumps out white under the skin of his throat and there’s a creak of latex on leather as his grip on the arm of the chair tightens.

“Damn,” Setsuno says under his breath from behind you. Someone whistles. You’re pretty sure you hear the word ‘slut’ being tossed around, but there’s reverence behind it.

“And what makes you think you’re so valuable?” Overhaul asks.

You close your eyes to ground yourself for a second. He’s interested, you know that much. You’ve never really had to convince someone to want you, but there’s a first time for everything. Besides, you only have to look at him for a second to know he does want you, which isn’t a surprise. Who wouldn’t?

“I’ll do anything you want, be anything you want,” you tell him, echoing your conversation with your friend back then. “Take out your anger on me if that’s what you’re into. When you’re tired of me, you can consider my debt paid and let me go.”

“And?” he prompts.

‘And’? And what? You’re offering yourself to him, your body and your mind—what more can he possibly ask from you? You cast your thoughts around, wondering what else you have to give him. “And…and I’ll do it willingly. You, um—you look like a man who appreciates obedience.”

And that’s it. Your last shred of pride is gone. Not only are you offering yourself up to a man to use as his personal stress doll, you’re saying you’ll be compliant every step of the way. Knowing yourself, you’re pretty sure that’s impossible, but you just need to make him believe it long enough for you to find a way out of here. You can pretend to enjoy getting fucked by a gangster a few times. You’ll live.

But you’re naive. And with the stream of thoughts pushing through your head, you never really consider one thing, one essential thing: how you look pleading up at him in that pale pink nightdress—soft, pure, immaculate against the filth of the underworld, the only clean body that Overhaul’s seen in a long time.

And you’re right. He is a man who appreciates obedience.

“Willingly…so you’d be willing to prove it.”

Your head jerks up and down in response. Yes! He’s taking the bait, now I just have to get him alone and—

“Then demonstrate.”

When a moment passes and you don’t move, Overhaul tips his head to the side, gaze still locked on you, and gestures vaguely at his lap. You blink and then shy back, shrinking under the hungry gazes of the onlookers. ��You can’t mean—in front of them?”

“And here I thought you were going to be obedient.” There’s no mercy, no amusement in his voice. No hint of humanity.

So he’s serious. He wants you to give him a blowjob in front of—how many? one, two three, four—four other men!? Your first instinct is to jump back away from him and your next is to slap him for even suggesting it; you can actually hear the jingle of your cuffs as you attempt to raise your hand. You’ve gotten a little kinky before—blindfolds, vibrators, maybe a hand tied to the bedpost with a Hermès scarf once or twice, but this is a whole different level. And the way they’re all looking at you…like they’re itching to see you brought down. How absolutely disgusting.

But Overhaul’s waiting for your answer, and you know full well that you’re not going to deny him.

“O-Of course.” You lean forward over the seat of the chair so your face is just inches from his lap. “Um. My hands...?”

They’re still cuffed behind you, but it seems like they’re going to stay that way when Overhaul gives a curt shake of his head. “Use your mouth.”

Once again, you’re stunned into silence. How are you supposed to—? Without your hands? It doesn’t even seem like he’s going to undo his pants for you. It’s like he wants to humiliate you…oh, wait. As soon as the thought crosses your mind, it’s clear that’s exactly what he’s trying to do.

You give him another doe-eyed glance, bidding him to at least undo his belt, but he remains unmoved. Bastard.

After aiming another glare at him (because as obedient as you’re attempting to be, you’ve never been good at concealing your emotions) you lean deeper in and take the stiff leather of his belt between your teeth, gently easing it out of the buckle and trying to ignore the mixture of earthy and metallic tastes it leaves on your tongue. It takes a few tries, but eventually you’ve got the tail of the belt out of the buckle and you pull your head back to guide the metal down until the belt is hanging open from its loops.

A rush of accomplishment surges through you when you get it open, and then you want to slap yourself. Accomplishment? From doing this with your mouth like an animal—like a dog? You can hear laughter and mocking encouragement from the men watching, but you steel yourself and dip back in to get Overhaul’s pants undone. The button is tricky, especially with your face nudging into the hard muscle of his abdomen through his shirt, but somehow you manage to tug the fabric slit over the button and then—delicately, delicately—clamp the zipper between your teeth and peel it downward.

“Oh, she’s good,” someone says from the background. Setsuno. You look up warily, but Overhaul’s eyes haven’t moved from you.

Now that you’ve got his pants open, you’re face to face (literally) with what you’re going to have to deal with. The outline of his cock is bulging the fabric of his boxers outward, and he’s not even half erect. You snatch a look back up at him—and damn it, you have to stop doing that, because every time you look into those golden eyes and that stupid bird mask you feel like a lamb looking at a bird of prey right before it snatches you from your safe little lamb-house in the meadow and—fuck, you just have to get on with it.

So you dip down and mouth over him through the fabric, spreading the flat of your tongue over the length of his thick cock. Your mouth feels like you’ve been eating cotton (probably because they drugged you earlier) but you force yourself to salivate, letting drool spill over your tongue and dampen his boxers. When you duck and spread your lips down on the place you can feel the tip stretching out, you know the friction must feel good, because despite the lack of even so much of a deep breath from the man above you, his cock is getting harder.

You nudge your mouth over the tent between Overhaul’s legs again, letting the heat of your breath wash over him—but when he doesn’t do anything, you pull back and blink up at his face. Does he expect you to get him off through his underwear? You could, but most of your moves depend on skin-to-skin contact. There’s no way you can get his cock out with your mouth like you undid his pants, so…what? “Are—are you going to take it out?”

Overhaul brings a gloved hand to his face to rub absently at one of the straps on his mask. “…Beg,” he tells you.

Your mouth drops open and you reel back from his lap like he asked you to lick the dirt off the floor. What!? He can’t seriously expect you to—to beg him to put his dick in your mouth when you’re clearly disgusted at the whole situation. When he doesn’t give any indication of retracting the statement, you can’t help the mocking sneer that forms over your face. “Please, sir,” you spit, and a deaf man could hear the spite in your voice.

Now, that gets a reaction. Overhaul’s eyes flash and you take a certain degree of pride back at the anger you’ve clearly inspired in him. But it’s extinguished as soon as you see it, and then he’s reaching down to cup your chin, tilting your head back and rubbing his thumb over your lower lip.

“I think you can do better than that, princess,” he says, and you can hear your own mocking tone reflected back in his voice. “Unless you’d like me to give my men a turn?”

This, more than anything, scares you. He must be able to feel the way your spine goes stiff, adrenaline rushing, your fight-or-flight instinct kicking in at the prospect of what he’s threatening.

“Each of them, one by one. Between the four of them, I think they could cure that smart mouth…although they might just break you in the process,” he continues, and then his thumb is pressing into your lip, into your mouth, and you loosen your jaw to let him in. You can taste the rubbery latex of his gloves and the other men mutter agreement, encouraging their leader to turn you over to them, and you want to cry.

But you hold the tears back. “Please, sir! Please, please may I s-suck your cock sir? Please!” Your voice is more terrified than obedient, but that’s probably what he’s into anyway. When he doesn’t say anything, you babble on, unwilling to let yourself get gangbanged by a group of men who could probably wreck your pussy in a single round. “Please, please, Mr.—Mr. Overhaul, um, boss? M-Master?”

“Sir will do just fine,” Overhaul says, apparently satisfied, and he pulls his hand away from your face to free his cock from his boxers.

You let out a hot sigh of relief and angle yourself back toward his lap so you can zero in on his cock (and, hopefully, do a little to block out how sickeningly degrading all of this is: how easy it is for him to threaten you; how he has all the power and you have none; how the men around you are goading you, taunting you and calling you things that should get their mouths washed out with soap). You can focus on this, and this, at least, you’re good at. You’ve always been good with your mouth.

It’s a nice dick, too, you have to admit to yourself as you stare at it. Perfect length, girth, and a thick, cut head that you know just by looking that you’re going to have to stretch your jaw to get around. All his hair is neatly trimmed and groomed, and he even smells good, clean and fresh like soap. You’ve never been in front of a dick that didn’t smell like day-old ball sweat, so this is a first. It’s got a nice upward curve, too, and there’s a bead of pearly precum oozing out of the tip. The kind of cock that’s made for penetrative orgasms—

No. Fuck. You cannot be thinking this. You cannot allow yourself to lust after a gang leader who thinks of you as little more than an interactive sex doll. A tingle of blood rushes to your cheeks as you feel wetness pool in your panties and you adjust your stance, shuffling your thighs apart under the pretense of getting closer and hoping Overhaul doesn’t notice.

If he notices, he does the merciful thing and keeps quiet (which makes you think he has no idea you’re feeling the way you’re feeling, because he’s probably never chosen to do the merciful thing in his life). He does, however, shift one of his knees farther apart to accommodate you as you crawl close enough to him to get your head all the way between his legs.

So now you’re staring up at that unfairly pretty cock and wondering how the fuck this is supposed to start, but—best just get on with it. Pretend it’s not him, pretend it’s…no, wait, pretend it is him, it is Overhaul, the same bastard who’s looking down at you like you’re trash, except pretend you’re in control. Because no matter how many orders he gives, once you’ve got his cock in his mouth he’ll have to be the weak one. Right?

Lightly, slowly, you trace the tip of your tongue in a wet path up the underside of his cock, sliding up from the hilt to caress every bulging vein with all the delicacy and accuracy of a surgeon. When you reach the tip, you flatten your tongue to curve it around that bulbous head and then slip it off, the suction providing a wet smacking sound as your skin leaves his.

The breath of his barely-heavier exhale ruffles your hair and you relish the knowledge that he’s getting impatient. Yes. The bastard can wait.

You kiss the tip of his cock, barely moving your lips around the slit, only enough to let your tongue flick out against the precum and gather the bitter liquid up in your mouth. And then—right when he’s getting annoyed, when you can tell by the tension in his body that he’s five seconds away from shoving your head down to fuck your face—you duck closer, relax your throat, and swallow.

Like a fucking python. Or so you’ve been told.

The exhale that escapes him isn’t light this time. You can almost hear the barest hint of a groan under his breath, but you’re more focused on holding down your gag reflex as you let that heavy cock hit the back of your throat. Once he’s all the way down (or at least as far as you can get him), you rock yourself back an inch and then take him deeper, forcing yourself to hold still so he can feel the walls of your throat convulse around him, sucking him in, dry-gagging on the mass that’s filling you up.

“Fuuuuck,” you hear someone whine, and it’s not even Overhaul. It’s one of the men watching, and you feel a perverse mixture of hatred and arrogance rise up in you.

Overhaul’s cock is too big for you to properly moan around it, but you give it a go anyway so he can feel the vibration of your voice through his skin. You’re rewarded with a tangible twitch with it sitting on your tongue, and—oh—your mouth is watering out of where you’re clenching down on him at the back of your throat.

Spittle slips out over your lower lip and onto your chin, but you ignore it in favor of jerking your head up and down in fractional strokes, trying your absolute best to get yourself down to his base but knowing that he probably doesn’t give a shit anyway, not with how good your throat feels around what you’re capable of stuffing in.

What were you saying about ‘valuable’, sir? you think, and then you pull your head off his cock, so slow it’s almost cruel, sucking your cheeks in and hollowing out so those wet walls are rubbing up on every millimeter of his skin. When you reach the tip, you savor it, letting your tongue do the dirty work and looking up at him through your lash extensions before you release him with a nasty wet pop.

“Holy fuck, can I have her next?” one of the other men says, but you and Overhaul are too focused on each other to even look and see who’s talking.

His gaze is trained firmly down at you, and—no way, damn it—he looks bored, like he could be waiting in line at the DMV instead of getting sucked off by you, a girl who’s been complimented by every man she’s ever been with (including her first) on her bj technique. You know he’s feeling it—he can fake calm, but he can’t fake the way his cock’s throbbing under your tongue as you lick up the shaft. Still, now that you’ve got it in your head that Overhaul’s not going to make a sound, all you can think about is forcing him to moan. Let him look weak in front of all his little lackeys.

With renewed vigor, you lap up the length of Overhaul’s cock in sloppy dabs, leaving strings of saliva dripping off your mouth and his cock only to slurp them up, audibly, wiggling your tongue over the tip when you reach it. And that, that gets him, because you feel more than see the buck of his hips into your face as he hisses out a curse.

And—oh dear, maybe you shouldn’t have done that—because the next thing you feel is Overhaul looming forward over you, hand gripping the back of your head, and is he going to force you down? You hate that—so you take the initiative, tilting forward to take him into your mouth again, head bobbing up and down so quickly that your hair is falling all over your face, but it’s okay, because he’s got you, he’s got you, got his hands combed through your hair holding it out of your face, pulling so lightly it barely even hurts, but it does hurt, and he’s guiding you up and down on his cock and it’s hitting the back of your throat every time, and—and it hurts.

You really shouldn’t have done that.

“Take it deeper,” Overhaul instructs, almost encouraging, although you’re not given the option to pull off because he’s holding you down, pushing you firmly toward the base of his cock. You sputter around it, gagging, and you’re almost fucking choking, and he won’t let you up.

God, you’re not—not breathing, you can feel your throat choking down on him—“breathe through your nose,” he says, and this man, this villain has no idea what he’s fucking talking about, because you’re trying, eyes stinging and then you can feel tears down your cheeks. You try to squirm back on your knees, but somehow the combined force of every muscle in your body is outmatched by his single hand on the back of your head—and—and—you squeeze your eyes shut, relax, open your throat as much as you can and—

Overhaul forces your mouth down to the hilt.

Fuck, is he going to keep you there? You can’t, you can’t—if you could move, you’d be shaking your head and begging him to let you stop and as it is you’re whimpering around his cock. Your throat is making gagging noises and you’re crying, actually crying, actually fucking crying on a man’s dick. So this is what it feels like to be used?

“Good.” There’s something lower and darker in Overhaul’s voice, a husky undertone from the growl he’s trying to suppress. “Hold still…remember, you asked for this.”

You did. You asked for it. Begged for it. Pleaded.

“Want me to forgive your father’s debt…? You’re going to have to earn it.” He pulls out an inch just to ram himself back in. You make a weak attempt to move your tongue around his shaft and you can feel the shudder all the way through him, his cock twitching where it’s locked in your throat. “Mm…good girl. Just a little—little longer—“

His fingers are tightening in your hair, curling around the strands and tugging instead of just applying pressure to your head. He’s close, you think, and then you struggle back, not wanting him to cum down your throat, what if you choke on it? Like, really choke? You don’t want it, don’t want his cum in your stomach, but then he sighs and tells you again that you’re a good girl, and ohfuckohfuck you must be so scared you’re desperate for praise because you feel heat rush into your cheeks and your cunt when he says it and you try to move your tongue like you did earlier and his hips jerk forward and—he cums. In your mouth.

It’s salty, you think. The next thing you think is that you want to gag, because you’ve never had cum in your mouth before. For all your sexual experimentation, you’ve never let a man cum down your throat like this, always telling them it shoot it on your tits or whatever because you are not a person who should have semen in her mouth, much less ingest it.

But right now, with Overhaul lazily dragging your head up and down for a last couple pumps on his softening dick, your choice isn’t spit or swallow. It’s swallow or choke.

Hot. Thick. The texture is slimy, so viscous you can feel it going down your throat in strings. Part of you wants to throw up. It’s repulsive. Filthy. You hate this.

Part of you has to shift your position again so you don’t have to feel your own wetness slicking up the insides of your thighs.

How. Is. This. Possible. You may have just had to swallow your pride (and not just that), but what about your dignity? You’re a good person…okay, well, even if you’re not a ‘good person’ per se, you don’t hurt anyone with your selfishness. You don’t deserve to be kept as a pet by a sadistic bastard who gets off on watching you almost pass out on his cock, and you certainly don’t deserve the humiliation of finding that you’re turned on by it.

And yet. Here you are. Still held securely in place until Overhaul slides you off him. As soon as your mouth is free you suck in a dizzyingly deep breath, but even that is too much for your battered throat and the breath turns into a cough; you instinctively fold down away from Overhaul so the mixed saliva and cum you’re hacking out spatters in cloudy white flecks across the floor instead of on his clothing.

“Stop that,” Overhaul scolds, hauling you back up by your hair and forcing your mouth closed with a hand on your jaw. “If you make a mess, you’ll be cleaning it up.”

Considering what he just made you do to him, there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s implying you’ll have to lick it off the floor. You clench your jaw, holding back the convulsions of your throat as best you can, and hope he doesn’t press the issue.

Now that you’ve got your coughing under control, you can start to sense things that you had been tuning out before: the men hooting and wolf-whistling and applauding your performance, the traitorously persistent throb of your clit pulsing under your panties, and Overhaul’s hand releasing your chin to pet down your neck. “Now. What do you say when someone gives you a meal?”

Just you wait, bastard. I’m going to tie you to your bed and set fire to it. But you’ve got the sense that that answer won’t go over well, so you take a deep breath and look up at him again, meeting those piercing gold eyes with your own. “Thank you, sir,” you say in a soft whisper because it’s all your abused throat can manage.

“That’s right.” His hands feel colder than the concrete under your legs as he spreads his hand down your neck, only to toy with one of the lacy pink straps of your nightdress. “Stand up.”

You stand shakily, too cowed to even consider stepping back from him. Without warning (much less permission), Overhaul lifts the hem of your stupidly short dress up past your thighs, exposing your panties and lower belly to view.

“Hold this in your mouth,” he says, and after only a few seconds of hesitation you open up and bite down on the fabric so you’re effectively holding up the skirt for him. Overhaul skims gloved hands down the sides of your hips and comes to a rest when he reaches your panties—and why did you have to wear these today? Shiny red satin in the front; the back is just flowers worked in crimson lace. You know exactly how good you look in these panties, and judging by the things Overhaul’s men are saying, they’re more than appreciative of the view.

But Overhaul ignores them in favor of hooking his fingers under the elastic and pulling the panties down until they’re resting stretched between your upper thighs. You don’t have to see them to know there’s a string of slick connecting the lips of your cunt to the fabric, betraying in full technicolor detail how turned on you’ve gotten just from sucking him off. He gazes down at your pussy and then up to you as if waiting for you to admit it, but you stay silent.

“Well, well. What a nicely-trained slut I’ve found myself.” He gracelessly pulls the panties the rest of the way down your legs and lets them fall to the ground. “Do you always get this wet when you let your boyfriends fuck that smart mouth?”

It takes you a second to comprehend that he’s expecting an answer. “N-No, sir,” you reply, voice muffled by the fabric you’re still holding between your teeth.

“I suppose I can’t leave you like this, not after you took me so nicely.”

Does he mean he’s going to get you off? No freaking way. You drop the hem of your dress, let it flutter down over your thighs, try to scramble back, but his hand on your waist keeps you from moving. “I— It’s okay, I don’t need—“

“No, I think you do. I think I’m going to reward my pet for a job well done.” He leans back, eyeing you without sympathy. “I’d have you touch yourself, but—“

The mere possibility that he might remove the handcuffs has you straining against them again, and the sound of metal against metal rings out from behind you.

“—but, I think it’s best to keep the cuffs on for a few days…until you’ve settled down.”

Days? He can’t leave you in chains for days, helpless and powerless, so easy to take advantage of. “You can’t,” you whimper, and even though you mean for it to be a decisive statement, with your throat ravaged and hoarse it’s downright pathetic. Overhaul doesn’t even bother reprimanding you for talking back.

“My men have been patient,” he muses, and an enthusiastic wave of agreement wells up from the others. “Any of them would be happy to do it.”

You may have been through a lot in the past hour alone, but there is no way you’re going to let those rowdy criminals have their way with you. You send a nervous glance around the room and as predicted, not a single one of them looks like they have the slightest shred of control over themselves.

None of them…except Overhaul.

Still eased back in his chair, he looks just as relaxed and unaffected as he did when he was explaining your father’s debts to you. But there’s something flickering in his eyes, something he isn’t going to say to you, isn’t going to say out loud. A challenge.

Maybe, once again, he’s waiting for you to ask for it yourself. And if it’s a choice between him and one of the grimy ruffians who’ve been looking at you like dogs look at meat, you know what you’d prefer. Well—really, you’d prefer option C: none of the above (your current state might be uncomfortable, but you’re not so wanton that you’d rather cum in front of strangers than keep your legs together). Unfortunately, you’re starting to come to terms with the fact that ‘no’ is no longer an option.

Overhaul’s stare flicks from you to an unseen figure behind you, and you can tell he’s about to summon one of them over so you force yourself to move, lurching forward and climbing into his lap to straddle one of his thighs with all the grace you’re capable of. You feel the stir in the air when he inhales sharply, surprised, and his masked face is so close to your neck that you wonder if he can smell the lotion you put on before you went to bed last night.

It’s one of your favorite scents: vanilla, lilac, orange blossoms. You bought it because it smelled pure.

“Please, sir, I don’t want them,” you breathe next to his ear, injecting every ounce of sexual frustration you’re feeling into the needy tones of your voice. “I’m yours. I belong to you, just you. No one else—please, sir…Overhaul.”

He’s quiet for a long, tense moment, and you think he’s going to hit you, or maybe even kill you for your disobedience. Push you off his lap at least. But just when you’re teetering on the edge of jumping back from him and begging for forgiveness for talking out of turn, you feel it—a low rumble of laughter from deep in his chest.

Big, cold hands wrap around the sides of your ribcage under your breasts and his fingernails dig into you through the layers of latex and fabric. He tilts forward, forcing you to arch away and all you can think about is how horribly weak you are compared to him. Are you trembling? Will he be angry if you feels how afraid you are?

“You know, I guess I’ll keep you after all,” he hums, stroking his fingers through your hair and down your neck. “How does that sound, princess? I think you’d like that very much, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” The response comes all too easily, even if the words taste bitter in your mouth. You’ve never said the word ‘sir’ so much in your life…but as he repositions you on his lap and slides a single hand up the inside of your thigh under your dress, you bite your lip and decide to hold back your protest.

If you’re going to have to learn manners, you’d better do it sooner rather than later. Something tells you Overhaul’s not going to accept any less than your best behavior if you want to pay off your debt.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #overhaul #chisaki kai #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia imagines #mha x reader #mha imagines #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero fanfic #smut #tw dubcon

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abbyilr1967 · 3 years

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Misdemeanor - Dabi x Reader

Summary: Dabi has been pestering you all day, so you get a little creative with your punishment for all his misbehaving.

A/n: So think is a cool idea I got from a TikTok, their user @overhaulscoatfluff if you wanna find the post. Also just want to say, I am a big fan of calling very strong masculine men big babies, so that why that happened. As per usual, here is a link to my Masterlist if you’re new here.

Warnings: Swearing…. Like once

Word Count: 1k

You had been sat in front of Shigaraki’s computer for the last six hours flipping back and forth between several different security cameras posted throughout the city. As a member of the League of Villains, your job was mostly surveillance and helping to plan the missions. You didn’t have any real strength or any quirk that would be useful on missions, so planning was where you excelled.

Shigaraki had wanted you to track who comes in and out of the Yakuza compound, and how regularly they did. Tracking their movements so we could learn more about how they run their operations, considering they wanted to partner with the League.

So there you were, sat in Shigaraki’s dark, dank room with a pen and your notebook in hand, filling it with the date and time of all the Yakuza’s movements.

Usually, this part of your job wasn’t so boring. Because of the lack of sound, the surveillance cameras gave you could listen to whatever you wanted while you worked, and you were typically unbothered by the other members.

Except for today.

Dabi, who you had recently started dating, having evolved your previous relationship from just physical to romantic as well, was coming in to bug you every half-hour. It was like clockwork. He’d come in, nestle his face into the crook of your neck while wrapping his arms around you and beg you to leave the computer and go lay down with him. You rejected him every time, telling him that you were busy and would come find him when you were done. But that didn’t fly with him. So he came back, again and again, before you were forced to shut and lock the door to Shigaraki’s room.

And, right on schedule, you hear the doorknob jiggle as Dabi tries to get back in. You take your earbuds out, lift your head from your paper, and turn in your chair. The knob jiggles a few more times before you hear Dabi’s footsteps lead away from the door.

You sigh a breath of relief as you’ve finally gotten Dabi to drop his pursuit of you. You turn back in your chair and re-focus yourself on the screen ahead of you, as you readjust the pen between your fingers. You place your earbuds back in, and press play. The sound of your classical music passed through the bud, and you continue to scribble down the date and time of the interaction taking place on video.

As you work, you hear a frantic clicking sound. You take out your earbuds, checking to see if the sound somehow was a part of the music, only to find that it’s coming from the door. Rage fumes inside of your chest as you stand from the desk and make your way to the door.

You unlock the door and rip it open, only to find Dabi on his knees. He held his lock pick in their air, where you can only assume the door handle was before you had caught him red-handed.

“Hi,” he says awkwardly.

“Hi.”

With all of the frustration and anger flowing through you, you managed to stay relatively calm...

Dangerously calm.

“Are you done?” the corner of his lips pull into a cocky smirk, and you give him one straight back.

“I’m gonna give you to the count of three,” your hand releases the doorknob that you were unaware you were gripping so tightly, and you turn while making your way back to the desk. “To get off your knees,” you rifle through the top desk drawer, back still to Dabi. “And run.”

You turn to face him, and now, sitting between your thumb and forefinger was a staple remover.

“Is that a一”

“One,”

Dabi raises to his feet but doesn’t move. He’s holding his ground, trying to call your bluff.

“You’re not gonna一”

“Two,”

Your eyes are burning holes through him, but he still makes no move to run.

“Y/n一”

“Three,” you say darkly, stalking over to Dabi. “You should run.”

He bolts and you follow after him, gripping the staple remover tightly in your hands.

“Y/n, c’mon, I was just joking around!” he shouts over his shoulder as your chasing him through the lower levels of the League’s hideout.

“Oh ho,” you chuckle deeply. “I’m not joking around though. I’m gonna have so much fun pulling out each individual staple!”

You hear him laugh as he’s zigzagging through the halls in an attempt to lose you. His laugh is contagious, and soon you find yourself laughing along with him. You follow him up the stairs to the second floor, where everyone’s rooms were. Dabi ducking into one of the rooms quickly, and you follow the sound of his stifled laughter.

Now you stand at the threshold of your room, the door slightly ajar. You push in, and scan the dimly lit room for any signs of him. Each step you take is slow and calculated, analyzing your best escape route in case he decided to pounce on you. Your steps bring you into the center of your room, and before you can make a move the door behind you is slammed shut.

“Mine,” Dabi growls.

His arms ensare your waist, and he pulls you off the ground. You struggle to get out of his hold, but his strong arms keep you pressed tightly against him.

“Dabi put me down!” you shriek. In all the frantic movement, you’d dropped the staple remover, which was quickly forgotten about on the floor.

“Mine,” he growls again, nuzzling his face back in the crook of your neck.

He walks the two of you over to your bed and flops both of you onto it.

“Five minutes,” you try to say sternly.

“Fifteen.”

“Ten, take it or leave it,” your hand has found its way to his hair, and you give him a soft little head pat.

“Fine,” he mumbles against your neck. You feel his teeth scrape lightly against your shoulder before he sinks his teeth into the soft skin.

“Ow! Dabi what the hell,” you try to hold back the laugh that’s bubbling in your throat, but fail.

“‘M sorry, I just missed you,” he places a kiss over the bite mark, like when a child asks for a kiss over their boo boo.

“Missed you too, ya big baby.”

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deleteddewewted · 3 years

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Fatgum Doesn't Know How to Flirt

Fatgum is an amazing person but he's not the best at flirting. He tries to match you and thinks that his flirting might be working but it seems to only push you further away. (This Oneshot exists with the sole purpose of bringing you pain because yeah Fatgum isn't an asshole but I’m a bitch who loves 💕agnst💕so you have to deal with my antics for a bit.)

Also @fatgumsupremacy i took you up on your post were you said that you would like to see someone add you in a fic, so here you go! (Special bit at the end with an oc)

Quickly clarifying something about the character called Maya/Eris. Here quirk is called Siren and it allows her to control people by using something called "A true emotion". The "true emotion" is what that person feels towards her and the person under her quirk retains conciseness. She's capable of taking full control and giving direct order but that causes her to overwhelm herself because she's already carrying the persons emotions for her on herself. I also used the same concept of Eri's kidnapping and torture. (The name Eris belong to the goddess of chaos, strife, and discord. The character Maya/Eris is not an actual god, she just chose that name because in her word "Im always in trouble because everyone assumes i'm the bad guy because of my quirk, might as well shove that shit in their faces and prove them wrong.")

The BMI Hero Fatgum was a joyful and kind soul, everyone who would meet him would agree on this. So why would it be any different when it comes to you. You were very wrong.

The first time you interacted with him was during a meeting with the police, you were both brought in to discuss new black market drug called “Dust”. "Dust" was created using the same method as the quirk destroying drug that the villain Overhaul produced. A young girl, a transfer student to UA, was kidnapped and tortured for 6 days in order to gain enough of her cells to create the drug. The girl was rescued and continued to live her life, her quirk was still used to create "Dust", which the drug in itself would make people imprint on the first person they see. This would lead to the person affected becoming loyal and submissive to the other individual. It wasn't a perfect drug but it did the job so it was up to al of you to combat that. Looking over the files the girls quirk and the drug weren't the same thing even if they both share some similar affects, this would come in handy when figuring out how one would be affected by the drug. It also brought complications because of the lack of similarity.

"So "Dust" production is down after the Shie Hassaikai members were arrested, but the drug is still being distributed by other yakuza's. We're also aware that Eris's quirks and the drug are not exactly the same and hold different affects. The drug lacks certain components since it doesn't hold enough "samples" of the quirks originator." You look up from your file as you addressed the room. All of the pro heroes that were involved in the rescue of the UA student as well as those with quirks useful for the operation of controlling how much of "Dust" drug got around to the public.

"Because of the constant rise of new and inconsistent forms of "Dust", we need to act sooner rather then later in gaining information on what yakuza groups are producing and who they are selling too." Detective Tsukauchi added. Everyone took notes and calmly asked questions. Once the meeting was over everyone moved into the lobby and started discussing the meeting. You were speaking with another pro hero, Manual, when you were interrupted by the BMI hero.

"Manual! How are you man!" You looked at Fatgum with a raised brow. You thought he was suppose to be nice yet there he was interrupting your conversation with Manual.

"Oh ah, hey Fat! I'm good but i was just talking with-"

"Great man! Hey about the meeting-"

"Hey!" Fatgum turned to look down at you, his constant smile looking a bit strained after you spoke up to him.

"What the hell man? We were talking, you can't just interrupt."

"Ah, sorry sweetheart. Didn't mean to do that, but if ya'll still need to speak i'll just wait around till ya'll are done." Fatgum stepped back from the two of you and just stared back in forth between Manual and you.

"Anyways, Manual-"

"H/N!" Fatgum shouted.

"Yes!?" Fatgum had finally irritated you enough for you to snap.

"Oh nothin, i forgot what i was going to say." He had a shit eating grin on his stupid fucking face, which to be honest with yourself, it looked very punchable. It's not like it would do anything to him since he'll just absorb it. You had enough, you said goodbye to Manual and left the police station without giving a second glance to any of the men.

The second time you dealt with Fatgum was during an internship. His three interns from UA were doing a patrol with him while you were with the female student who was kidnapped. The girl, hero name Eris, was a second year with a manipulative quirk called "Siren". She not only was amazing to work with but she was already at the same level as all of the other pro's. The two groups crossed paths and the interns started to chat, you and Fatgum looked at each other but you didn't bother to start anything. So naturally he started the conversation.

"Hey, sweetheart. How are ya?"

"Don't call me that." You weren't going to deal his shit. You were already helping out Eris and watching over her, why add a stress with a grown man who acts like a child.

"Aww come on h/n, have some sense of humor once in a while!" Fatgum giggles at you. You were about to say that patrols weren't a good place to joke around but all of sudden a distressed shout caught both of your attentions. You didn't need to instruct Eris to start running towards the shouts but Fatgum directed his interns, Red Riot, Real Steel, and Suneater to follow after Eris. You and Fatgum took care of spreading the crowds out and away from the danger.

You both rushed to catch up, Eris was already jumping on top of one of the criminals using her leg to flip them over and towards the other interns coming in so they could take part of the action.

"Say h/n, you're a bit slow aren't ya!" Fatgum shouted to you. Can he not take a moment to be serious!

"SHUT UP!" You picked your pace up and slammed into a criminal while Fat trapped them. Once all of the criminals were rounded up the police were called to book them. You congratulated Eris for acting fast and Fatgum did the same with his own interns.

"Hey Eris! You did amazing out there!" Fatgum yelled at your intern. Eris turned to him and nodded at his comment then turned to speak with you.

"H/n thank you for letting me work with you. I know that this was last minute and most have been stressful having to deal with a student instead of an adult so again i'm sorry for any problems i could have cause you."

"Oh, it's fine Eris. You weren't a problem to work with, you actually were a nice team mate. I cant wait to see what you'll do in the future. "

"Yeah Eris, you're way nicer to work with then h/n over here." Fatgum butted in. He took a nice moment between you and you're mentee and ruined it by adding a comment about you.

“Nice moment gone, Eris be a dear and report directly to your mentor about you did today. I’ll do the paperwork you do the talking, got it?” You weren’t about to give Fatgum the satisfaction of seeing you annoyed.

“Yeah, sure.” With that Eris starts walking off to speak with the police officer and the criminals.

“H/n?” Fatgum walked in front of you giving you no choice but to look at him.

“Yes Fatgum?”

“Say, I think we got off on the wrong foot. How about we get something to eat, get to know each other?”

“No thanks-“ The larger man walked to block you from leaving.

“Awww, come on. This was the most excitin’ thing that’s happened all night. I’ll pay!”

“This has nothing to do with me being able to pay or not. You and I are still on the clock, so get out of my way.”

The next time you both meet was during a hero after party. The rankings had been earlier in the day but the after party was another event that heroes attended in order to create good PR and bring connections between each other. Fatgum had appeared in a bright orange suit and was eating away at the food tables while also speaking with Miruko, the bunny hero. He noticed that you were all alone and brought massive amounts of attention your way by screaming.

“Hey, h/n! How are you?” You didn’t care for his party but why the fuck was he adding to the insufferable nature of al of this. You would keep ignoring him for the entire night but he always managed to make the event worse and worse. From the screaming at you from across the room, the giggling that followed it, the constant pushing of why you were alone and didn’t bring a sidekick, and why you choose the outfit you were wearing.

“Fatgum, please. Your interns been trying to get your attention for the past hour.”

“Yeah, we’ll I want a talk to ya.” You rolled your eyes at the larger man and started looking for an outing. Your outing came in the form of a friend of yours, Hawks.

“Excuse me but my friend is over there.”

“Wha- Wait-“ You didn’t let him finish what he was going to say and just left him in your fist as you walked over to Hawks. Hawks and you held a platonic relationship, he opened up a bit more to you after a mission and it truly did solidify your relationship with him. It was natural for the both of you to be touchy with each other and to want closeness, but not everyone knew what your relationship was to one another so naturally rumors emerged of the two of you dating. At least you got away from the irritating BMI hero.

The last time you both meet was not ideal by any means. You were bloodied and bruised after a fight with a dangerous villain who had some type of telekinetic quirk. You were going tooth and nail with this guy trying to find an opening and when you finally did, Fatgum came crashing into the space blocking your shot. He covers you and takes the blows from the villain repeatedly allowing you to reposition yourself and look for a new opening.

“Y/N, STAY BACK!” A huge flash of yellow light washed the room and all of a sudden darkness. You laid unconscious for a bit till you felt someone pat your face.

“H…h/n….. yo…..ake…p” The voice started too slowly become clearer as you returned to consciousness. It was Fatgums voice but when you opened up your eyes it wasn’t Fatgums…body?

“Who-what? What’s…agh my head.”

“Seems like you’ve got your self a concussion, sweetheart. Might want to get that checked.”

“Hmm.” Fatgums lazy smile completely faded after your response.

“Is it really that hard for you ta enjoy some banter once in a while?”

“Fatgum, we’re on a mission, I nearly ate it. I’m pretty sure no ones going to be in the mood to joke around.” He rolled his eyes to that.

“Oh here we go again. Little perfect h/n can’t take a joke. Wonderful.”

“Whatever man, just don’t get in my way again. But thanks for the-“

“Ye now,? If you weren’t such a shit hero this wouldn’t had happened.” Oh great, that totally didn’t hurt your feelings. You were going to thank him for saving you even though he didn’t need to but here you were instead, being called a shit hero by the “nicest” hero out there. The sting from that comment was enough to make the concussion not suck so much so much since now your focus was on trying not to cry in front of Fatgum. You got up from your place on the floor and turned towards the massive hole Fatgum left behind during his entrance. The mix of hurt and anger boiled inside you and it was difficult to shove it aside like you would usually do with all of your other emotions. You’re finally breaking your own role of conduct, you couldn’t help but became attached to the situation and the comment. With your back facing towards him you turn your head slightly just to say a few final words.

“Thanks”

After that all of your interactions with the BMI hero were decreased. You were not about to try to speak with Fatgum. He made his feelings about you clear, so you decided that even in the meetings you both had to attend to you would keep a huge distance between you both. Physically and emotionally since you’ve compromised that during the altercation. You rarely spoke and when you did it was to one person at a time. You didn’t want to exist in the same space as he did, it felt wrong and weird to speak to him after the incident. You won’t lie, your feelings were hurt, that’s why you shut them off during work hours. But that night, you couldn’t do that and now these are the consequences.

Fatgum was not happy at all. You’ve been avoiding him for a bit now and it was starting to get on his nerves. He was absolutely crushing on you and hard. Fatgum couldn't stop the way his heart would beat faster or how he loved it when you spoke your mind. Everything about you was gorgeous but he didn't feel like he could match that, so he resorted to matching the attitude you presented. The teasing, the jabs at you, the annoying was his attempt to flirt with you. He truly liked teasing and annoying you out of everyone mostly because it went with his personality of being welcoming and giddy and it went suspicious at all. He loved seeing how you would talk back and how your brows would furrow together. Everything about you was cute and he wanted just a bit of your attention. Even if it was just irritation. When you stopped paying him attention he thought it was because you saw his skinny form (low fat form) and got scared. You looked surprised but not scared so it couldn’t have been that.

"Hey Fat, what's going on?" Manual as always was kind and came up to him to speak.

"Nothing much, tho i do have a question. Whats goin on with h/n? They ok?" Manual gives Fatgum a pensive look and shakes his head.

"No, they've been fine from what i've seen. Maybe you should ask one of their sidekicks?"

"Oh cool, is there a side kick near by?" Manual directed to one of your sidekicks named Festen. When Fatgum asked Festen if you were ok or if anything happened, Festen only responded that you were fine and that the only abnormality it could detect was that you seemed to be a bit under the weather but overall the same. Fatgum thanked it and walked out the police station. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do with the rest of the day, he wanted to speak to you but couldn't find the opportunity to.

The work day ended after a few hours of paperwork and decided that it was enough stress for the day. He took a shower at his agencies locker room and changed into his civilian attire to go out for a walk. He just wanted to relax and de-stress, so here comes his shock when he hears your voice. You were laughing at something but he couldn't see you, even though he's over 8ft tall. He made his way through the dense crowds and found you. You were also in civilian clothing and strolling along side your intern Eris and sidekick Festen. Eris momentarly caught Fatgums eyes and immediately averted them. You caught on and looked at what your intern was trying to ignore.

Fatgum was happy when you made contact with him but soon realized that you might not know who he was outside of his uniform. He took his shirt and stretched it so it covered the top of his head fully, he didn't want you to see him out of his costume. No matter how much he preaches acceptance he's still self conscious about how he appears at times. He was about to walk away from you when Festen saw him.

"Oh hey, Taishiro! How are you?" Festen excitedly came up to the larger man and started a conversion. You in the other hand looked at Eris, better known as Maya outside of uniform, with a raised brow. The girl just offered you a look of neutrality and shook her head like a disappointed parent.

"You should address the problem y/n. I don't know Toyo' to be cruel, but yet again i'm not working with him closely. Like i said, you just need to move on with shit. It's not like you never get mean comments from coworkers." Maya, as blunt as she always was, just told you in a polite way to suck it up and take charge. If Toyomitsu, Fatgum, wanted to make an appearance you might as well take control and be the one who started the interaction. You nodded at Maya and walked over to Festen and Toyomitsu.

"Hello Toyomitsu." You put on your best unimpressed look at him. Giving him the impression that you don't care about what he has to say or the situation. Festen smiled at the both of you and excused it's self to speak with Maya instead.

("Maya, holy shit! Tai's is really cute!" Festen walked over to intern with a giddy smile on its face. Maya already aware of Festen's infatuation with the BMI hero smiled in amusement. These are the adults she surrounded by, how adorable. At least on of them was enjoying the time off work.

"I guess, he bought me lunch when my mentor Dealer was wrapping up with some villain that wouldn't stop monologging."

"He bought you lunch!?"

"Of course he did, he's dependent on food and he's a nice guy. You ask him for a money he'll just hadn't it to you."

"Do you think I should ask-"

"Not right now, it looks like y/n and him are about to have an awkward conversation."

".... you just want to listen in don't you?"

"Yeah, i need to hear the tea so i can blackmail both of them later." Festen and Maya giggled and listened in to your and Toyomitsu conversation.)

"Hello h/n-"

"Y/n is fine, i'm out of uniform."

"Y-yes sorry." Toyomitsu rubbed the back of his covered neck and let out a nervous chuckle. He wasn't used to you directing yourself towards him. He was acting and feeling like a school boy all over again.

"So what brings you here Toyo'?" You gave him a nickname, Toyomitsu started feeling like a million bucks again. He could die happy now.

"Oh, i was just walkin around enjoyin my day off. Glad to see that you're also takin a break! Breaks are healthy you know? Knowing you you probably dont take any!" Toyomitsu laughed out loud.

"Hmm." You turned around and walked away.

Toyomitsu didn't get to spend enough time with you like he wanted but Eris, who insisted he call her Maya because "Toyo', you've meet me and my brother already, plus my mom. You're practically an unofficial uncle.", did come up to him to speak with him. Toyomitsu was impressed with everything Maya does, she was tortureed and once she recovered, she wasn't even agree about it. The girl took it in stride even when she saw the severe scaring she'll have to live with for the rest of her life on her left arm. The girl was awesome, he couldn't help but be happy for her and the things she'll do in the future. Maya knew that he held her in high esteem, which she takes advantage of because to have that much power is thrilling. She decided to thank him for agreeing to have her work with the other pro heros and the police in the "Dust" cases.

"Toyo', you should drop the..."attitude" you put on. It confuses some of us who can't distinguish a joke from an honest critique."

"Oh! I didn't know that-"

"Im talking about y/n. They didn't understand if you're doing this whole "show" out of you being you or you not liking them." It finally clicked. He teased you, annoyed you, made you lose focus of the job you swore to do well at. He called you a shitty hero, no wonder you avoided him since then. He was being a royal dick to you when he was trying to flirt.

"I-"

"I don't care, you're an adult Toyo' please act like on." Maya started to walk away from him but quickly added in.

"Also, your crush on y/n is obvious. Do better on hiding your heart eyes in the future, it makes everyone uncomfortable." Why did Maya have to be so blunt?

"O-okay." Toyomitsu was a blushing mess, he truly was a school boy.

The sting operation was going smoothly, everyone was doing their part and the drugs were taken care of. Everything was fine, so why did Fatgum disappear? H/n, Festen, and Eris were walking in and out of the compound were the yakuza had been producing "Dust" but couldn't seem to catch a glance of Fatgum once. He was there earlier, did he leave?

"H/n, you should go look for Fat." Festen smiled at you worried. Eris came over looking disinterested as always.

"I haven't seen him yet, he might be down in the lower levels of the hideout. It'll be best if you look for him." Eris didn't bother making eye contact with you but instead read the report that police had started writing up, as always she was checking for any missing details or mistakes.

"Why do i need to look for him? You both have a better relationships with him, wouldn't it be better for the two of you to-"

"He's probably fine but your the pro hero here, Festen and i are under your instructions and authority. So go look for the guy instead of bitching, just a suggestion."

"Eris! You cant just say that-ouch!" Eris hit Festen in its ribs and gave it a glare, almost like she was trying to communicate something.

"Ooo- Ah, yeah! H/n, you should go look for him since you're, ah you know, his equal. We'll be up here checking for abnormalities and helping out with the clean up. So, shoo. Go, go, go!" Festen and Eris both booked it towards the line of patrol cars and disappeared from your sight.

Both of your employees are absolutely stupid but you wouldn't trade them for anything in this world. Festen was just great to work with in general while Eris was an outstanding student. Whatever those two concocted, it has everything to do with you. You started going down the secret passage way of the compound and followed law enforcement towards the deeper areas. How was it this difficult to lose a guy like Fatgum? He was fucking massive and wore bright yellow, what a strange man.

You eventually found him speaking with the police and detectives onsite, once you got close enough to overhear the conversation you decided to add in whatever information you had available from your perspective of the raid.

"They were blocking us from this specific corridor and once we got past them, many of the members entered into some type of frenzy when the leader shouted out an order." Fatgum stated.

"They had a similar reaction to that of "Trigger" but over all, they only went into hysterics when given the order. Eris's quirk works similarly so any time she adds in a distress undertone to her speech the subject enters this state of alertness, but the subject is still capable of taking proper action to their own abilities. Here we saw that the gang members held no control over their own thoughts or actions." You added. Fatgum was startled for a moment but regained composure when he saw you.

"Not the same reaction...so it seems that they may have ingested "Dust" prior to the raid or they already were under the influence from days or even weeks prior." Detective Tsukauchi was taking down notes furiously and then directed himself to the both of you.

"I need to speak with Eris about some of her quirks functions. We might be able to use her quirk against "Dust". She might be able to snap those under "Dust" out of the drugs affects when she uses her quirk against it. H/n, is she still in the area?"

"Yes, she's with one of my sidekicks Festen."

"Great, i'll go have a chat with them then." Detective Tsukauchi left Fatgum and you to deal with the other officers. You noticed that Fatgum looked impatient to say something to you but wouldn't do it, so it was up to you to start conversion and what better way than to bring up the reason why you ignored him for so long.

"Did you see how we all helped out during the raid?"

"Yeah, everyone wa-"

"Not so shitty am i." Fatgum chocked on literal air when you said that. He was practically drowning in his clothing because he lost so much fat, he purposefully hid in his hoodie and coughed out a response.

"Im- im sorry for that, comment. I was joking around and i know that you don't take jokes- not that you cant take a joke but the moment wasn't the best and you were hurt so i-"

"It's fine, your comment was a bit cruel and as i said before, jokes and banter should take place out of work. It's distracting to me so i avoid it." A silence washed over you both but it wasn't uncomfortable, it felt nice actually.

"I know you don't want me to apologize again but...i'm truly sorry. I banter and joke a lot. Sorry h/n." You nod at him in acknowledgment. The moment was nice, what could possibly change it.

"I-i wanted to ask if you wanted to get coffee some time." Well shit.

Eris and Festen both wrapped up the things they had to do at the scene and decided to go out for a late lunch. Festen ordered a large bowl of ramen and started to eat it while sniffling from time to time. Eris didn't want to ask but she knew that it was best to help it out instead of letting it suffer in silence.

"Festen, what's wro-"

"Our boss is going on a date with Tai! I wanted to get a chance!" Eris knew this already bit she honestly thought that Festen would be a bit more subtle.

"Festen, its coffee, not a date."

"Yeah? B-but it could still be a date!"

"Festen please lower your voice."

"ok.." Festen started to eat its bowl of ramen while silently sobbing. It was happy that the boss got to date the BMI Hero. It looked up to both of them because of how they both conducted themselves and the amount of attention they put into their work, but it still couldn't help but feel like a it had missed an opportunity to make a move on the larger hero.

"Festen, Toyo' gives out free hugs on friday's...you can ask for one if you need it."

"Huh? How do you know that?" Eris doesn't respond but her face defiantly betrays her a bit with her slightly red cheeks.

"My dads been dead for years and i have major abandonment issues. I need hugs from adults that don't treat me like trash once in a while."

"Awww, thats cute....and super depressing." Festen started to cry again.

"You get used to it." Eris ate her yakitori and her unagi as she watched the person across from her shovel food into its mouth as it continued to sob.

"sow w-wwawt wime cam i awk fo a hugw?"

"Festen, please swallow your food. You're going to choke yourself accidentally. I can't have my glorified babysitter dying on me." Festen continued to cry, it just wanted to be with Fatgum.

#fatgum #fatgum x reader #fatgum is bad at flirting #festen #oc #mha oc #mha fatgum #taishiro toyomitsu #mha taishiro #taishiro x reader #toyomitsu x reader #nervous fatgum #cute fatgum #bnha fatgum #bnha oc #mha x gender neutral reader #mha x reader #fatgum x gn neutral

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bobbimorses · 2 years

Note

So I know absolutely nothing about Maya Lopez, didn't even realise she is a villain (is she a villain? the trailer seems to be indicating that she's on team tracksuit) does she have much history with Clint? I read the Matt Fraction run when it first came out and I don't remember her being in it, but maybe she was and I've just forgotten. Anything you recommend reading before the show in relation to her? I should prob re-read Fraction's run for the Hawkeyes.

nope, not a villain, she was kind of an antihero for 2 seconds in her introductory issues (daredevil v2 #9-10) fighting matt, and has been a hero ever since. her first arcs are in daredevil v2 #9-15 and daredevil v2 #51-55 (which focuses on her more than matt). she basically has taskmaster's abilities: photographic memory reflexes where she can copy someone's fighting style, or see a concert pianist play a piece and then play it herself, copy a gymnast's routine, you get the drill. she is deaf, and cheyenne from her father and latina from her mother

during civil war, she joins the new avengers as "ronin" in issues #11-13 (it was a secret at first, and she's the first ronin), and ends up staying in japan to deal with the hand and the yakuza

her relationship with clint: while maya's whole ronin deal is going down, clint, who just got killed twice, wakes up revived in new york to the avengers disassembled, aka his whole life is in shambles. he ends up joining the new avengers bc he went to visit doctor strange's house, where they just so happened to be meeting up. they invited him to help out echo in japan, but he wasn't in costume, wasn't gonna be hawkeye anymore, and maya's ronin suit was around so...he borrowed it and became ronin. after maya's back with the team, she tells clint to keep the costume until he doesn't need it anymore, so she's back to being echo. (these appearances are in new avengers #27-37)

during their time on the team together, they flirted with each other and had a brief fling

anyways absolutely none of this will happen in the show bc the comic circumstances are 0% like the mcu ones! and you're not misremembering, maya wasn't in the fraction/aja run

so what is echo doing in the hawkeye show?: well, if you'd like to know without going into the show a blank slate, and don't want to be surprised...

i'm pretty sure clint's going to be a stand in for matt murdock's role in maya's introductory issues, and she's gonna be tied into kingpin appearing--who you'll remember from the fraction/aja series was after clint, along with a bunch of other villains that he was creating problems for. you see, maya's father in the comics worked as a mob enforcer under kingpin--and her father will appear in some flashback capacity in the show, and mcu clint was going around killing mobsters and people of that ilk as ronin...you connect the dots. like i said, it's not at all gonna be like their comic relationship bc comic clint doesn't kill anyone. also in the comics, kingpin raised her after her father was killed, but i don't think that'll work timeline-wise in the show so much as just taking her under his wing

comics-wise, maya recently appeared in marvel's voices: indigenous voices, and has been appearing as the one bright spot in avengers v8, as the new phoenix force

#also her appearance in moon knight v6 was a little baffling #and she got killed and no one said anything then she came back and no one questioned it. comics #maya lopez

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awkwards · 3 years

Text

Kinktober Day 5. Aphrodisiac : Pleasurable Test | Overhaul

Day 5: Aphrodisiac

Title: Pleasurable Test

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Count: 2.2k

Summary: You needed to make ends meet, and so you go to subject yourself to a testing center that will pay. Turns out, you’ve signed yourself up for way more than you expected. You should really read the fine print.

Warnings: Noncon, syringe, aphrodisiac, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, yandere, sadist overhaul

Note: It’s finals week and definitely starting to hit me. Also, thanks for all of the support! If you’d like to be tagged for my kinktober fics, dm me! My inbox is open~

You snarled behind your gag at the man in the lab coat, who was currently coming at you with another needle. When he stepped close, you managed to kick the shot away.

“You can’t even handle one little girl. Pathetic.” A voice you haven’t heard before chides. A man wearing a plague mask and rather large coat with purple feathers stepped in. You could barely see him from where you’re restrained on the operating table. He snaps gloves onto his his, his eyes glaring at the subordinate. “And now that needle is filthy.”

“I’m so sorry sir!” you could see the sweat from the doctor, his face pailing. “She kicked me and it went flying!”

“Begone. I do not wish to hear your excuses.”

“Yes sir.” The guy practically runs from the room.

The man levels his gaze on you, judging.

You quirk an eyebrow at him, challengingly.

You’ve been here for a week. It was supposed to be one test, in which you got paid for. You took it because money was tight and you needed to pay rent. Little did you realize they would keep you kidnapped and subject to their devices because you were the “perfect candidate”. Your fear has practically been pushed aside by your anger. For a week they’ve been sticking you with needles, running “tests”, keeping you on the edge of functioning. All you had left was your anger and attitude.

“What a nuisance.” The man sighs. His dark eyes scan your barely clothed body.

Quicker than you can move, the man has your legs pinned down, fastened in place just like your arms and neck are. A gasp of shock careens past your lips, silenced by the gag.

“That’s better.” He moves over to the counter where the equipment lays. He turns his back towards you. “Do you know who I am?”

“Well, I assume you’re the one in charge of these monkeys. Do you know who I am?” You bite at him.

“I am Kai Chisaki. You will address me as Overhaul.” He turns slowly, an intense look in his eyes that makes your skin crawl. “I know plenty about you. You are a quirkless individual. Your blood type is AB negative. You’re allergic to penicillin. You’ve lived in this city your whole life. I know you were adopted at the age 5. You had a kidney transplant at the age 12.”

“Your parents were brutally murdered when you were in high school by a villain attack. I know that the villain attack was actually a target for your father’s brother because he made some bad deals with the yakuza.” He grabs a needle and begins to mix a mystery pink liquid into it. You’re shaking by now. How does he know so much? “You dropped out of high school quickly after, and less than two years later sold most of your adoptive parent’s belongings, and then the house.”

Overhaul takes deliberate and slow steps towards you, tapping the air bubbles out of the needle. “You moved into a seedy little apartment in the middle of town. You work at a small bar across from the noodle shop in the bad part of town because it was the only place that would hire you. This month you couldn’t make ends meet so you showed up here.”

A gloved hand drops onto your arm, thumb soothing over the prominent vein of yours. “And most importantly, I know your name isn’t actually Nakaya Kosuke. You, Miss (y/n), have quite the extensive history.”

You jerk hard at hearing your birth name. No one should know! Only your adoptive parents, who as he stated were dead, and the lawyer that erased your identity knew.

You try to speak through the gag, your words hushed.

An amused dark chuckle falls from him. “Oh, my apologies, did you want to speak?”

You nod your head.

His eyebrows raise, as if debating it. Finally, he unties the back of your gag. You spit it out, breathing in deeply. “Careful now, say something I don’t like and I’ll put it back on. Or I’ll remove your tongue.”

“Why am I here?”

He hums. “You are special. Did you know that your blood type is extremely rare?”

You clench your teeth, glaring at this cocky son-of-a-bitch. “I did.”

“Well, fortunately for us, your blood type was exactly what we’ve been looking for in our experiment. It’s extremely hard to come by a willing participant, too.”

“I’m not willing. I signed up for a test. One.”

His chuckle is light, and his eyes are wide with sadistic mirth. “No. You actually signed up until there was one successful test. So far, none of them have been such. It would appear someone didn’t read the fine print.”

Oh. Oh god. Did you really?

“No worries. You will be fully compensated. Well-” His eyes narrow. “If you live.”

Overhaul begins to prep the vein in your arm. “See, quirks are filthy. Those heroes parading around their quirks are but vermin on this earth. Pathetic. But you - no, you’re corrupted like those who roam the streets. Your blood is pure. Your genes are clean. You and I are far more similar than you might think, y/n.“

“What are you going to do to me?” Fear is fully controlling your mouth now. You shiver as he sanitizes the area he plans on injecting you.

“I have reason to believe that your blood will be the perfect capsule to carry my new invention. It’s a device that will remove the quirks of those who come in contact with it.” The look in his eyes turned wild, excited. You shiver. “My parents were ripped away from me, too. Those heroes did nothing to save them. Yet, they parade around the world as if we, the common folk, owe them. Not for long. Now, don’t make too much of a noise; I’d rather not have to remove your tongue.”

The prepped needle’s cap comes off, and the metal slides into your skin. You whimper, looking away as Overhaul begins to press its contents into your bloodstream. As quick as it began, it ended. He wipes away the lone blood drop before pressing a bandaid against you.

“Normally I would never dream of coming so close to an individual. But you are different from the filth filling this world.” Gloved hands grab your chin, turning you to look into his eyes. “You’re pure. Perfect. And I plan on taking full advantage of that, my sweet Y/N.”

Tears burn your eyes, your lip trembling. You finally let your body relax. This time you were truly fucked. He pulls his hand away, throwing away the needle tip of the syringe. You watch him walk away, back to the counter where he removes his gloves and washes his hands and arms.

A warmth began to fill your system. You shoot a concerned look at Overhaul. It was like your body was warming up from the inside out, your blood beginning to boil. A feverish sweat was spreading over every inch of you. “Something’s wrong.” You croak out.

Overhaul turns back to glance at you, sweaty and blushed. A mild look of intrigue covers his face. “Oh?”

“It’s burning me.” You whine.

Your body is completely uncomfortable now. The warmth feels … different. Wrong even.

“Explain to me what is happening.” He dries his hands leisurely, watching you from across the room before putting on a new, clean pair of rubber gloves.

“I’m hot. It feels like my blood is boiling. I -” you whimper as the slightest movement of your head increases the feeling tenfold. “Please make it stop.”

Overhaul takes his time as he walks back over to you. He runs a finger over your pulsepoint. The single touch sends a wave of pleasure crashing through you, a moan following. “How interesting.”

You’re mortified and confused. You wish you could rub your thighs together at the uncomfortable feeling between them.

“I see now. The molecular constructs of those two vials creates an aphrodisiac.”

You pinch your eyes shut as his single digit drags down your arm, over the hospital gown you have. The thin fabric is too much. It feels as if it’s weighing you down and making it that much harder to breathe.

“I suppose I should relieve you. It’ll be the only way to collect your blood at the right molecular compounds,” He muses to himself, talking out loud as if you’re not there.

Overhaul pulls off the glove on his left hand. “If I hadn’t reassembled you already, I would let you suffer until the side effects wear off. But, because of me, you really are clean. You should thank me.”

Not knowing what to say, you watch the man through your watery tears. He presses his bare hand on your stomach. If you weren’t being restrained, you would have arched into his hand, moaning loud as pleasure floods your core.

When he removes his hand, your whole body shivers as air nips your bare skin. How? “Wh-what?”

He chuckles. “My quirk.”

You watch as Overhaul steps around your pinned body, coming close to your wet sex.

“What a mess you’ve made. Disgusting.” Despite his words, he runs his gloved hand up your right leg, stopping at the stop below your belly button. You can feel your walls flutter.

A choked out “Please,” tumbles from your lips. You’re so turned on it hurts. Your brain can’t think straight anymore.

You moan loudly as a single finger strokes your dripping lips. You roll your hips as best as you can to get more friction. He lets out a proper laugh at your discomfort, sliding his single digit past your folds.

“So needy. What would you do without me? If I wasn’t here to relieve you?”

Your walls flutter around his digit as he runs his finger against your inside. The burning in your blood only seems to increase at the slight relief. “Please, Overhaul please!”

At your pitiful begging, he slides another finger in, stretching your walls. He works the two digits in a slow and methodical pace, scissoring you. You whine and cry, grinding your hips into his fingers. When he curls the two fingers and strokes the spongy spot inside you, a coil snaps, and you cum hard around him.

He doesn’t stop, continuing to pump his fingers inside you. You moan as you come down from your high.

The heat inside dims for the barest of moments before firing back up with a vengeance.

“Did that make you feel better?” He mocks, putting more force behind his motions.

You gasp as the coil of pleasure begins again. “It hurts! I need more, please!”

“Patience, little one. You’ll get your release. Soon, you’ll be begging me to stop.”

As if to prove his point, he uses his thumb to stroke your clit hard. Your walls flutter and drip around his gloved fingers as you feel yourself close to the crest again. “Oh - Oh, oh please!” You wail.

“Cum again, pet.”

You do. Your walls spasm as you tip over, shaking in your restraints as a sigh leaves you.

He doesn’t stop. The fire inside is rapidly dwindling, and you flinch at the touch.

“Oh, are you sensitive already?” He muses. “It won’t last long.”

True to your words, the fire picks up again. You sob as his touch hurts. It hurts yet is relieving you too. Tears stream down your face as you’re overstimulated, but the heat is still there.

“It's almost over. Hold on just a bit longer.”

Overhaul fingers you faster, making the coil of pleasure twist quicker and harder than the last two orgasms. You sob as you near the edge again.

“Last one. Give me one more. Cum over my fingers.”

“I can’t!” You cry out, rocking your hips into his fingers despite what you say.

“You can. And you will.” You can hear the squelching as his fingers target your g-spot, his thumb rolling your clit hard. “Cum again y/n.”

A scream rips from your throat as you’re forced over the edge of another orgasm. Your entire body tenses, and white fills your eyes. Overhaul drags his fingers out of you slowly, making you wince from the overstimulation. He tears the glove covered in cum off of his hand before sliding a new set on.

Panting hard, you come down again, body relaxing. Your blood no longer feels like you’re being boiled alive.

You flinch as a syringe is forced into your arm, and watch in sick curiosity as he draws blood from you. Even the touch of the needle makes you quiver, your entire body too sensitive for touch.

“Shh, it’ll be okay. You did so well.”

You moan, shaking as he places a bandage over your skin again. Your head swims as black dots at the edge of your vision.

You look up at him, and can tell even from behind his mask that he’s smiling. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Rest well, pet.”

Tag list:

@ofthedewthesunlight

#kinktober 2020 #awkwards kinktober #bnha #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha overhaul #yandere overhaul #sadist overhaul #tw : noncon #tw : needles #tw : aphrodisiac #tw : overstimulation #tw : multiple orgasms #tw : yandere

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

Text

An Ode to the Unseen

Thinkin about readers who feel self conscious, readers who feel like they’re not happy with their weight, readers who don’t feel girly enough or feel too vulnerable because of whatever height they’re at. I’m thinkin about readers who suffer from body dysmorphia, who shy away from looking at themselves in the mirror to avoid seeing their scars, body hair or acne. This is for the readers who feel too submissive and feel like a pushover in their lives, and this is for the readers who feel like they’re too fiesty and not soft enough. It doesn’t matter if you feel like you can’t relate to the stereotypical tropes in writing, or if you feel like you can’t act like a perfectly constructed Y/N in real life, this ones for you💖

A/N: Hello to all reading! I made this on a whim just to tackle some of the insecurities lesser described characters in stories might feel, but this is in no way meant to exclude anyone at all! We all have beautiful bodies, and should own up to it even if we don’t always see the problems we face in writing. Some of these topics might be sensitive to readers or trigger memories that might be disturbing to others, so please heed the warnings! Also the Hawks prompt at the end gets pretty nsfw, so heads up for that hehe

CW: dubcon, manipulating, fluff, slight angst, EDs, body dysmorphia, kidnapping, abuse, degradation, some nsfw, yandere, language, insecurity

You’re ever feeling not particularly happy with your face or body because of an acne breakout, or a rash that won’t go away? Maybe a birthmark that you try to cover up with makeup? Even stretch marks or scars from surgery?

You can bet your ass shigaraki will notice the way you can barely glance at the mirror some days just so you don’t have to see your own reflection when it’s time to go to bed with him.

His obvious and intense stare makes you fidget and gets your skin crawling, but he says nothing that night when he holds you a little too tightly-tighter than most nights he’s with you. The sound of his raspy breaths lulls you to sleep, but when you wake up he’s already gone, out on another mission or at a meeting with the Yakuza.

You feel groggy and gross, and going to the bathroom just to look in the mirror again to see whatever ails your body and/or face does nothing to stop your groan of misery.

You do your business all while turning away from your reflection, not wanting to see a second more of your discontentment staring right back at you while you wash your face, brush your teeth, and meticulously do your hair.

Finally making your way downstairs to the bar, you sit on one of the barstools and hold your head in your hands, not wanting to meet anyone’s gaze and no doubt seeing their disgust at your ailment.

But you look up when a soft whirring sound and purple-black tendrils of smoke appear before you

“Young master L/N,” Kurogiri says. “Have you been feeling alright? You retired earlier last night and had the most uncomfortable of expressions on your face, I couldn’t help but notice.”

No matter how much you despised or were wary of Tomura, you knew his caretaker, Kurogiri, had your back. He was respectful of your space, and if he knew you weren’t in the mood for talking then he wouldn’t push you

And so you told him your predicament, opening up about your problem spot(s)

“It’s so embarrassing, Kurogiri. I feel gross and I feel like everyone’s looking at me,” you mumble, putting your head down on the cool polished wood countertop.

He’s silent for a moment or two, before the tendrils of his supposed hands warp into a small portals. They appear again immediately, producing a couple of bottles and place them in front of you.

You raise your head slightly at the sound of sloshing liquid and rattling pills as the bottles are lined up before you in an orderly fashion, and you eye them suspiciously.

“What’s this?” You ask, picking up a tube as your curiosity is piqued.

“Young master Tomura Shigaraki had warned me beforehand of your reclusive nature when you ponder on what cannot be controlled, and sent me a list this morning to pick up some medication that might help you, should you need it. He asked me to bring back every item as soon as possible, so you wouldn’t feel the need to procure anything by yourself and strain yourself unnecessarily.”

You scoff, not buying the surprising act of affection. “So, what, he’s just doing this so he doesn’t have to look at my disgusting (body part of choice) anymore? He wants to come back and see some perfectly molded pet to stare at all day?”

Kurogiri shakes his head, however.

“I know how the young master is perceived to many: abrasive, immature, and brash in his thoughts and actions. He has a long way to go in terms of maturing in the way he views things, and unfortunately he was not blessed with…the best of upbringings, so he truly doesn’t know any better, as you already know.”

You wince internally, feeling slightly guilty now.

“But,” he continues slowly, “he was not born with evil in his heart. He’s just bitter with society, and is desperate for others to know his pain and see the world for what it really is towards those who are suffering. That’s why he is so taken with you, young L/N. Before you came here, he observed your mannerisms and was thoroughly attracted to the way you could see through people’s surface level facades. Although your views on the world may differ here and there, he is desperate to show you that he understands your suffering, and that he’s there for you-“

“-yeah, well, he has a funny way of showing it,” you mutter darkly, memories of chains and dark rooms and various marks on your body flashing through your mind. Even if Kurogiri was telling the truth, it would take some time for you to come around and even begin to try to give yourself to Shigaraki. He was just too volatile, too rough and negligent of your wants and needs. He lashed out at everything you did, and made you feel like nothing you ever did was enough to please his shifty nature.

“Yes, I can understand you bitter feelings towards him,” the black and purple mass hummed in thought. “I have tried explaining how a human girl is to be treated, however, and he is slowly trying to learn. I feel as though he may feel embarrassed at times from his lack of knowledge at such simple social norms, and that is another factor of his frequent temper tantrums. He might be the leader of a powerful villain organization, but when he realizes he has no knowledge of making friends or keeping relationships, it’s an embarrassing blow to his ego. Especially with you, he is especially sentimental and touchy regarding topics that pertain to you. He often will sit here in silence after you two have a, uh, little spat, and hesitantly will seek my advice on how to make things up to you. ”

And you realize with a grimace that he’s right-there are days after you both have a big blowout(usually over the most pettiest of things, maybe you turned away from him while sleeping and he took it as a sign of disobedience, or maybe you didn’t greet him when he came back from an especially tiring mission and he used that opportunity to take his pent up stress out on you) that he’ll come back after storming out of the room only to creep back in hours later with various trinkets in his hand.

You’d be alerted of his presence when the pitch black room is blessed with a yellow ray of light from the opening creaky door as he enters, and you will yourself to continue breathing slowly, as if you were still asleep. But he’s so quiet and stealthy as he comes closer to you, it’s hard not to be surprised and flinch or jump when his arm reaches over you just to place one of your favorite snacks on the cracked dresser next to you.

It’s hard to keep your head down on the dusty pillow and keep your curiosity in check when you feel him breathing down your neck as he lays a stuffed animal on the blanket next to you, and you often wonder where he knows to buy such fragile and innocent things.

Your aesthetic that he so closely has memorized from each singular color to the details of your favorite patterns make a stark, disturbing contrast to his greying, deadly aura. It’s almost impressive that he pertains each gift to your taste when he’s feeling especially sorrowful

“But nevertheless, the master has asked me relinquish these to you as soon as you came downstairs. And, just between me and you,” he leans closer and you do too, finding yourself wanting to know this secret side of your captor even further, “he was muttering something as he left, something along the lines of not wanting you to feel like you had to use these products. I think he was trying to say that he never wants you to feel as though you have to make up any part of your body you feel insecure about to him. He wants you to stay the same way you always are, and if you never adjust to your surroundings here, then he at the very least wants you to be comfortable in your own skin, blemishes and all.”

“This may or may not come as a surprise to you, but he himself knows what it’s like to feel insecure about his own skin and body,” and it comes across so ridiculously innocent and striking to you that such a lethal character such as the infamous Shigaraki would have the same problems a normal, functioning member of society would have: skincare and body insecurity. But the lines, scratches, and scars that litter his face can attest to this notion. How often did he himself avoid looking in the mirror for, not wanting to see his translucent skin, the clawmarks that left bright, angry trails up his face and down the sides of his neck, the cracks in and around his lips and eyes? Is that why he left his hair down skit covered his face, and the hand on top covering him whole more often on than not?

And so you finally open the lid to the tube, testing the feel of its contents that promise your mutinous skin some time of relief.

The door suddenly bangs open, and the man of the hour himself slinks in, nails idly scratching the underside of his jaw as he mutters under his breath to himself.

He lifts his head and sees you and kurogiri at the bar, a tube of ointment in your hand , the lid opened in testing as the rest of his presents are in array all around you.

As if you were accepting them.

As if you were accepting him

He feels his face beat up and his deteriorating body starts to prickle and sweat. He merely scratches harder, his mumbling continuing as he slowly makes his way over to you

You watch his little unsure shuffled towards you, and you can’t help it when your heart twinges as you take in his hopeful yet cautious expression, no matter how hard he tries to stifle any vulnerable emotion

So, in a moments decision of truce you quickly lean forward to whisper to Kurogiri one last favor before turning to see a new light of your captor

“Before I go, I need some things from you, please. By tonight, do you think you could pick up some self care things at the corner store for me? I’m talking face masks, lotions, Vaseline, and hair products.”

“I think if I see him accept himself and care for the body he’s in least for one night, I could be happy in my skin, too.”

Feeling conscious about your weight, whether it’s over or under your preferred look? Please, don’t make Kiri laugh at your naivety

You groaned as you stood on the scale, the numbers reading back at you seeming more mocking than simple statistics

You weren’t meeting your preferred weight, and it was beginning to take a harsher toll on you now more than ever with Kiri around all the time

It was easier to ignore it when you lived by yourself in secluded bliss, where the walls of where you lived couldn’t talk or pass judgement about your eating habits, the times you did or didn’t keep up with yourself as months of promising to do the Chloe Ting workouts turned into forgetful reminders that dwindled down into barely passing thoughts.

Where you had your own, carefully chosen friends who could relate and share the secrets of their insecurities, the little area of pudge that just won’t go away, that upper area of their arms of legs that refused to build muscle even after months of eating straight protein and going to the gym.

You got to choose your own happiness, you got to choose if you wanted to spend countless hours scrolling through social media with your coworkers, gazing in envy at the hundreds of models people swooned over, or if you wanted to call it a day and eat a whole bucket of cookies and cream ice cream while watching a sappy rom com, just because it made you happy

But now, not so much

You could tolerate Kiri gradually distancing yourself from friends who he thought didn’t have the “best interests” for you

You could patiently follow the chipper rules of his house to wait for him when he got home, greet him at the door in nice clothes, and sit down to eat dinner with him

You even started getting used to having his eccentric, loud friends over who bustled and teased you around when Kiri invited them over for a boys night even if that “boys night” ended in them being hurriedly ushered out as he caught a glimpse of you in an accidentally-provocative apron

But your sanity and self worth was slowly started to snap like an overstretched rubber band when it came to trusting your body. Your mutinous, betraying body that just didn’t do what you fucking wanted it to do, that was constantly compared to the models friends Kirishima would bring around, like Mina and Jirou

They were angels, of course, so, so sweet to you

Constantly reassuring you that the new dress your captor boyfriend practically shoved you in in his eagerness to see you in red (his color) fit oh so well on you

They tried to convince you that no, the dress wasn’t stretched too tight on you to be considered healthy, and no, it didn’t need to be shrank in some places either

They tried, they really did

Unfortunately for them however, their relentless support didn’t hold a candle’s light to the body builders and Pilates instructors Kiri would model with for health magazines almost every month

They could never understand what it was like to be in constant doubt and shame when you feel your seemingly mismatched figure, their bodies reflecting healthy proportions in every nook and corner, skin and smooth and soft as a baby’s, with glowing reflections of perspiration

And you always seemed like the only poor unfortunate soul who sat in the corner, sulking and watching ripped muscles and leaned, toned limbs mingle amongst each other to socialize and effortlessly slide inside various apparel that of course fit their body and shaped them in ways you couldn’t even dream of

And it didn’t help that night after night, Kiri would hold you on his lap, bouncing his eager knee as he shoveled bite after bite of food into your unwilling mouth

He infantilized the hell out of you, convinced you were too naive and self-loathing to see your true beauty and how he had to take it on himself to show you what he saw in you

It made you feel pathetic, and helpless. Maybe that’s what you were though, maybe that’s really what he was trying to show you

You felt like you deserved it, anyways

So you stand there, on the weighing machine, feeling the last shreds of self confidence slip down and out of your body, akin to the light tears that splash on the marble bathroom floor.

“Babe? What’re you doing?”

Aw, fuck

You quickly brushed away your tears and stifled your imminent sobs to avoid being coddled as usual by the gentle giant who stood behind you

It frustrated him to no end, no doubt. It didn’t matter how often he’d sit you down and kiss you all over, letting you know how much he loved every precious inch of your body, it didn’t matter how gently he’d cradle your face to force you to look into his eyes just to tell you how beautiful you were, how lucky he is to have kidnapped you

It was never enough for your fragile heart, and he saw it in the way you flinched under his praise and shrunk under his loving gaze that raked over your body that he compared to an angel’s

As if you thought he was a liar, just saying it for your sake

As if you didn’t believe his words, as if you didn’t want to believe his words

As if you were disobeying him

“It-its nothing Kiri, just PMS,” you mumbled, the snot in your nose making you sound nasaly and shaky

“Your period was two weeks ago, and none of your symptoms have ever made you throw up.” He says with a raised eyebrow, his arms crossing as he leans against the doorframe

So he did see you slip out after dinner and head straight for the toilet, huh?

Busted

If he wasn’t so worried about you, he would’ve ditched the mild tone kept up for your sake and had you bent over one knee with a red ass just for lying to him

But from the way you quickly step off the scale and attempt to squeeze past him tells him you aren’t just being hard-to-get, you’re not in one of your resistance fits

And he thinks he knows exactly what’s causing you to not-so-subtly shift your eyes from the weighing scale back to your own body, as if you hadn’t already been doing that for weeks now

He just has to make sure

“Did someone say something to you?” He catches your arm and gently yet firmly prevents you from slipping past him outside the bathroom, away from him

“No, no, seriously I just felt sick, I think I ate something weird,” you try to laugh breezily but the waver in your voice does nothing but further increase Kirishima’s aching heart for you

“You sure? ‘Sure I don’t need to go talk to someone who maybe said the wrong thing to you?” And although his cheerful voice holds nothing but playful jest, the dark glint in his eye does nothing to indicate that all he wants is a friendly talk, especially when he tightens his grip on your arm and pulls you so close that you’re nose to nose with him, looking right at him with tears eyes and flushed cheeks

There’s no point in pretending anymore. He might seem like an airhead, but he’s not one of the city’s top hero because of his airy, gentle nature

“Ugh, no Kiri, no one said anything to me. I just…” you trail off, not wanting to feel the inevitable embarrassment you’ll feel when you tell him the truth

How disgusting you feel when you see his buff, toned, chiseled body that’s akin to a Greek God’s compared to yours

How you long to secretly have the right figure to one day be worthy enough to be deemed his partner in a modeling gig, just once, just to feel like you’re worthy of him and his equivalently built body, a body that reflects hard work and perseverance

Something you seldom see or feel in your own mass of distorted limbs

“What is it?” He pleads softly, begging you to let him fix anything for you, to let him be a man good enough for you

You look into his ruby red eyes that hold a puppy-in-love expression, and when you find only adoration for you in them, you can’t help yourself for falling into the trust and care you so desperately want in that moment

“I’m…so tired of not feeling good about myself. About feeling overweight, underweight, seeing bits of pudge and flab in one area and then seeing some thin and gangly areas in others. Like, I just want my body to be normal, to be healthy like all the people you model with. I feel like nothing I do or eat or wear makes my body look how I want it to look, and no matter how much I try it’s so hard for me to see the beauty of what you see in it.”

And finally you can’t bear looking at him anymore, so you squeeze your eyes shut and turn away

Much to his credit, he pulls you in and nestles your head against his chest, letting your tears and snot wet his tank top

“Oh hun, is that all this is?”

You roll your eyes and try to pull back from his chest, but he doesn’t allow it as he simply holds you there, shushing you and rocking you back and forth

“Kiri, that’s a pretty big thing for me.”

“I know, but…why are you so concerned about how they look anyways? I mean, that’s their job, right? To look good for pictures!”

“I don’t understand,” your voice comes out muffled against his shirt.

“What I’m saying is,” he chuckles and soothes a hand through your hair, “is that you shouldn’t compare yourself to people that have nothing to do with your daily life. Like, you wouldn’t compare yourself to a firefighter right? ‘Cuz thats their job, to save people, not yours. Similarly with models and shit, that’s their job to look good. You didn’t sign up to be a model, so you shouldn’t stress yourself to look like them. Plus, it’s not like it has any affect on what kind of person you are on the inside, you feel me? I’ve met some pretty nasty and rude people with killer bodies, but can you guess how much respect I had for them?”

You nod slowly, still not fully grasping his confusing logic but sort of getting the underlying meaning to it

“But it’s hard not to compare my body to theirs when you’re constantly around them.” You admit. “It feels like I’m not good enough either to be next to you when I’m just sitting on my ass, not doing anything” You grip his shirt and let the last of your tears out, accepting his soft and heavy hands stroking against your back and up and down your shoulders

“So? Do you ever see Sero or Denki modeling next to me? Or Mina and Jirou?”

He did have a point.

“No,” you say slowly.

“Exactly, because models and bodybuilders have a job to dedicate themselves to a life of working out. They do it because that’s what a majority of their life goes to get paid for. It’s all superficial, that’s not how the average person is, like the friends I mentioned. Otherwise the whole world would be full of people walking around with ripped abs and giant pecs. Could you imagine some lanky dude like Denki sporting a 12-pack and ripped pecs?”

“Hell no,” you laugh breathlessly, the image so horrifying to you both that you feel the vibrations of his boisterous laughter rumble through you and soothe your emotions.

“Now you’re getting it,” he speaks into your hair, the smell of your shampoo flooding his senses and getting him dizzy along with a treacherously rising boner

“Plus, what kind of man would I be if I picked my girl out just because of the way she looked? I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful-no, beautiful can’t even begin to describe you. Your palms feel so soft compared to mine, your arms are so beautiful when my hands are wrapped around them, your thighs are just the right size, your stomach is such a comfy pillow for me to lay on, and don’t forget your plush, slick, tight pu-“ he rambles on and you can’t help but yelp and clap a hand over his overworked mouth as his shower of body positivity starts turning more lewd…attesting to the bulge you begin to feel pressing against your leg.

But it’s funny, you can’t seem to find yourself being mad at him as your face flushes and you see not ill-intent and perverseness in his warm eyes, but pure and honest devotion to you and to the words he truly means

It softens your heart, and you use a finger from the hand smushing against his mouth to lift and stroke the side of his cheek, conveying your gratitude to him.

It seems he understands, as he takes his forced moment of silence with patience and just looks at you, hoping this time you could really see what he felt for you.

“The thing is,” he says after a minute, gently taking your hand away and turning you around so that you both were facing the mirror, “I love you because of who you are. If I wanted to date some model, I would’ve done it by now, trust me,” and you swat your hand against his chest as he stifles a laugh and turns you to look at your own reflection in the mirror.

“I didn’t take you just for your body. I took you because of the way you smile, the way your laugh is so soft sometimes and then all roudy and crazy and loud the next. I love you because of how passionate you talk about the things you like, the way you deal with problems, the way you treat others. All these things make me want you, so damn bad.”

He lightly rocks his hips into your backside so you can really feel how much he wants you, and you let out a soft gasp

He doesn’t let you move, however, he just holds one wrist in his meaty palm and holds your jaw in the other, positioning you so that you meet his wondrous gaze in the clear reflection.

He knew he was never known to be the smartest in his class, having Bakugo drag him by the teeth to pass class itself, so he hoped you could overlook his lack of vocabulary that so desperately was trying to tell you that loving you went even beyond anything he could barely articulate.

Leaning towards your ear, his breath tickles your lobe as his sharp teeth graze over your goosebump-riddled flesh.

“And if it takes all night to show you how much you and your perfect body mean to me, I’ll gladly take out any words that don’t do the job and show you physically how I feel. And just the way you are, too.”

If there’s one man who could not give one less of a fuck about how dainty, small, feminine, or easy to handle you may or not be, it’s the birdman himself: Hawks

Running errands with him when he allowed it was hell, though it should’ve been a paradise you felt owed for.

It was bad enough that when you hesitantly asked him what would look good enough to wear when you walked next to him as the Number Two hero’s captive girlfriend, he merely shrugged and said “Whatever you want.”

Which was not of any help, due to his excessive mood swings and possessiveness spiking at the most seemingly harmless things, such as you talking to the checkout worker at a branded store, wearing a skirt that he deemed was for “sluts who put out for attention”, or even not looking directly at him enough when he was talking to you.

So just to play it safe, you decided to wear jeans and a cute blouse, one that you thought did well for your figure and yet remained modest enough for Keigo’s liking.

He gave you a warning look before opening the door outside, silently telling you to behave yourself in public

You always did, of course.

It was never enough to keep him less suspicious of you regardless.

Deciding to bag some groceries first, he kept a tight grip with your hand as you both inconspicuously tried to navigate the winding back alleys, avoiding people and waiting in intervals to pass the street

He had a black cap on with a red feather embroidered at the top, sunglasses and a beige and white jacket that had a high collar for covering his face-you might be lucky to have the freedom to wear what you wanted to a certain extent but Hawks wasn’t so lucky

His wings, of course, couldn’t be concealed regardless of what he wore

The two of you luckily manage to snag a few stores here and there, the groceries in both his and your arms weighing down on your bodies, his feathers doing little aid to help when his wings started sagging under the bulk as well

Which is where you both were finally caught by a gaggle of fangirls

You passed the cafe they gathered around outside, and barely had time to register their squints of suspicion at Hawks and his poorly-shrunken vermillion wings before you heard squeals of recognition coming from their group a couple feet back

He swore under his breath, crushing your hand in a death grip and attempting to speed up further away from them

But the Number Two hero wasnt fast enough for his own good, this time

It was almost inhuman how quickly they caught up to you and swarmed around, effectively cutting you two off from trying to escape

They shoved papers, phones, various body parts and markers in his face, trying to get him to sign each and every article they had on themselves

And poor you were caught in the midst of it, being carelessly jostled around as each girl tried to force her way closer to him

The volume of their excited devotion and praise of him was making your head hurt, and you wondered how Hawks was managing to put up such a flawless, easygoing smile and responding to all their questions and comments without having a panic attack or snapping at them

After a minute or two of pure chaos, with the help of numerous feathers the hero-now-victim finished most of the autographs.

“Well, girls, thank you so much for your support and time, but me and my lady should get going now-“

“-wait, that’s your girlfriend?” One asks pointing at you in disbelief

You give her a weak smile and little wave

“Yup, the one and only!” Hawks beams at you with pride, holding you in an endearing headlock

“Wow…you guys are so cute!” Another chimes in after a few moments of silence, and you try your hardest not to fall into your same old patterns, to not embrace your old thoughts and insecurities with such open arms

But old habits die hard, and they certainly aren’t dead yet

Especially when the first girl thrusts a shiny phone at you, fluttering her lashes and baring her teeth in a poor imitation of a smile. “Would you be a dear and take a picture of all of us with him?”

“Uhh, sure, yeah, no problem.” You decide that getting this whole ordeal over quicker would be the best option for you

But as quick as you want this to pass, you can’t help but take an extra second to see the difference in your hands and hers when you take the phone from her hand

While her smooth, small and soft hands are seemingly unmarked, her acrylics accentuating her feminine form, you feel as though your larger ones should hide in shame in comparison

You’re not a slob, not by any means when you go out with him. But what was previously just you feeling comfortable in your own skin of knuckle hair, cuticles here and there, and nails bitten short from the cold stand anxiety of living with such a volatile man starts to turn into a realization of how different you are to these people who are trimmed to perfection

You shake off the sinking feeling in your heart and back up with the phone as the rest of the girls and Keigo line up for posing

The details in the phone camera do nothing to ease your growing timidity

The screen reflects what you see right in front of you- smooth hair, not a frizzy strand in sight blowing with the wind, perfectly manicured hands that are so delicate and small compared to your boyfriends’ gripping his upper arms, desperate to feel the hero’s assets.

They’re all at a perfect height with him too, the heels and boots they wear so easily lining them up at his chest level so they have a perfect view of his pecs and upwards

All of them are so beautiful and uniform, so dainty and careful with themselves. If one of them said that they were dating Hawks, you’d believe that they were worthy of it too

You snap the picture and hand the device over, trying to hide your trembling bottom lip and frigid hands

The girls thank Hawks a plethora of times, give you some once-overs as well as slight sneers and faux waves, and you both head on your way back home again

You’re quiet that night while making dinner

It’s chicken pad thai, one of his favorite dishes handmade by you

No matter how shit you feel your cooking is, he insists you make him a 3 course meal while he takes a shower, leaving a feather behind to watch over you

Usually it’s fine, usually you ignore or absentmindedly swat away the plumage’s less-than-innocent rendezvous trailing around your body, floating behind your neck to tickle you, “accidentally “ falling in your shirt or wedging itself down your pants (no doubt commanded so by Hawks)

But today, it’s silent and still, precariously perched on the edge of the kitchen counter as it observed and picks up the various sounds and vibrations of your movement as you bustle around the kitchen

It picks up on the way you chop the onions a little too aggressively with your large, clumsy fucking hands

Another reminder of how different you are than the average Hawks Fangirl ™

How they sashay and swing their hips around in a perfect circle when approaching him, while you stumble and trip over your own damn feet, the epitome of clumsiness and gracelessness

The feet which never endow heels or boots often because of the height difference it gives you and Keigo, because of the way you try desperately to adorn different slouches and postures to not look so out of place and awkward around him

And while you’re stirring the pasta in its sauce, the feather also picks up on the rhythm of your shattered heart

Shattered so when you remember how the girls sneered at you because you weren’t femme fatale like them, how you just stood there like a fucking mannequin while they cooed well placed praise, and how eloquent sentences flowed from their tongue like honey

You could only wish you ever spoke like they did, or adopted any of their mannerisms that seemed so natural and effortless like them

Your aching heart thudded dully while you scrutinized your miserable self, and flared up into a kicking rate when you realized you shouldn’t even care what your captor or any of his fan girls thinks

In fact, this was all his fault.

You slammed your mixer down, tapping your fingers against the countertop deep on thought

The vibrations the feather picked up was the last straw of its patience, as it alerted its owner to come and address you

Mumbling under your breath at your predicament, you banged around pots and spoons in your anger, failing to notice the plumage silently join its approaching owner, the water from his shower dripping down his wet shoulders and hair

“What’s goin’ on chickadee? It sounds like you’re tryina’ tear down the kitchen.”

You barely spare him a glance over your shoulder as you take in his bare torso, only a towel wrapped around his midriff

“Nothing. Just finishing up dinner,” you mumble.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing. It sounds like your hearts racing a mile a minute. So I’ll ask you again- what are you so upset?”

He yanks a stirring spoon from your hand and uses his grand wings to turn you towards him, a condescending pout on his face as he amusedly takes in your furrowed eyebrows, heated up cheeks and shaking fists.

He wants to keep pushing me? Fine, then I can play his little game

“You wanna know why I’m upset? I’m upset because I’m here against my will, creating problems for myself that I never even wanted in the first place!”

You jab a finger into his chest and his eyes narrow at your impertinent tone.

“Now wait a sec’-“ but you cut him off immediately, nose to nose with him now as you continue to blare at him

“I’m upset because I never feel fucking good enough for my kidnapper. How pathetic is that? Any time I have to beg you on all fours like a fucking dog to go outside I end up regretting it, ‘cause all I see is how flawed I am!”

He’s staring at you with wide eyes now, actually bewildered at the turn your ranting came to. So it’s not just about being kept here against your will, you’re actually upset about not feeling good enough for him?

“Those girls today…they were so perfect and feminine and beautiful and they had such small fucking hands that would fit perfectly in yours like mine never do, and perfectly pedicured feet, and had such pretty voices, fuck, I mean I’d date them too if I were you!”

You ignore the rage and bafflement in his expression, he looks at you like you’re crazy and maybe for the moment you are as you keep mouthing off to him

“So why don’t you, huh? I mean I only go out with you a couple times a year, but you see them almost every day! Girls who have hair that flows like goddamn waterfalls, girls who you could pick up and throw around so easily or at least girls you’re not embarrassed of.”

“I’m clumsy, I can’t walk with grace, I’m not at a height that’s easy for you to look at me with or thats even considered sexy, I probably don’t even weigh anything around you that people would call worthy of being some fit bitch for you!”

At this, you sink to your knees in front of him, almost spent out. You can’t bear for him to see your face, no doubt scrunched up in tears and snot with mussed strands hovering around your face like you just got electrocuted.

Another thing to ridicule yourself about, a fucking crying face. You don’t want him to see another ugly trait about you that he no doubt will snicker about behind your back.

“Isn’t that why you never let me out? Because I’m not cute or good material for tabloids, right? I don’t look good enough or act right for the Number Two hero, and that’s why you’re embarrassed, right? It’s been so long since I tried to last leave so I know you trust me-that means the only reason you hate going out with me and covering yourself up is because you can’t stand to be seen with such a fugly-“

“That’s enough.” His cold voice booms louder than yours, and you startle at that.

“Look at me, Y/N.” The tone at which he speaks leaves no room for argument, but when you continue to look down he snarls and detaches a feather, forcing your head up with it.

“You keep calling yourself all these things, but don’t tell me that moronic is another word you’re gonna add on, right? I mean you can’t possibly be that stupid enough to believe all those things you just said.”

You glare at him, sure that this was just a way for him to get you to shut up.

“I thought living with the Number Two hero would let some intellect rub off on you, but I guess it’s the complete opposite, if anything. Because you seem to have forgotten your place in my house.”

You yelp when suddenly a multitude of other feathers zoom towards you, pulling at your limbs and clothes as they lift you into the air, suspended to a height a couple of feet above Hawks’ eye level.

He just stands there with an eerie smirk on his face as he watches you flail around midair, trying to regain your balance.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re 6’3 and have bigger hands than me.”

With a flick of his finger, the feathers are directed to slam your body into the ground, leaving you wheezing on your back.

“And it doesn’t matter if you’re 4’7 and fall over yourself every time I call for you.”

He stands above you now, hands in his pockets and he smiles down at your curled up body. You look at him cautiously, unsure of what he’s playing at.

“You’re mind because I want you. I want everything about you, your heart, your mannerisms, your soul, your movements-they all belong to me and only me.”

He crouches down to a kneel, gently running a hand through your hair before turning it into a fist and yanking your head up to face him.

“And there isn’t a goddamn thing that’s gonna stop me from having you, when I want, and how I want. You think you have a chance of leaving me, or me leaving you when I, in your words, ‘go out and see beautiful girls like that all the time?’ If I haven’t left you for them by now, I sure as hell never will.”

You decide for now to take the backhanded compliment about being able to leave in silence. In a messed up way, he was proving his loyalty, and right now you needed all the reassurance you could get.

“And why the hell do you care how you look in public anyways, huh? Are you trying to seduce someone?”

You frantically object, and he sneers at your desperation. “Good, because it should only matter what I think, and you wanna know what I think?”

You stare at him wide eyed now as he pulls your head closer to him

“I don’t give a flying fuck if you think you’re some foxy slut or if you feel like a clumsy oaf. Because you wanna know why?”

He starts unzipping his fly with a handy feather, and you mentally berate yourself for pushing him to a point where he has to ‘prove his love’ to you, knowing where this was heading.

“Because when you’re sucking my cock or lying underneath me, it doesn’t matter how tall or short you are. When I tell you to take your clothes off and hump my foot like the good little bitch in heat you are, I don’t care how much you weigh. I’m still choosing you to be my fuckmeat, my obedient play-toy when I want, and I’m doing it with all your ‘flaws’, aren’t I? ”

You cringe when his tongue flicks out against your earlobe and down your jaw, your endeavors of trying to shove him away proving fruitless as he just snarls and bites your neck.

“Even if you think you don’t have the prettiest, smallest, biggest, or smoothest hands, they’re still the hands I’m choosing to play with my balls, yeah? I mean, you should be proud of your fucking sexy and lewd body…look at what it does to me.”

He gestures to his exposed member now which is hard against your thigh. You bite back a whimper as he begins to tear open your shirt with one free hand as the other slips down your pants.

“So be a good girl and show me how proud you are of being mine.”

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egyptsblackrose · 3 years

Text

Dancing with Strangers

This is by far the longest chapter, hopefully I’ve tied all the loose ends and come to a decent conclusion. Stay tuned fro more fics.

Part 1 - https://egyptsblackrose.tumblr.com/post/648370506842701824/a-rose-by-any-other-name

Part 5 -https://egyptsblackrose.tumblr.com/post/654891313044635648/dancing-with-strangers-there-will-be-one-more-part

Part 6- The end, enjoy!

It had been eight months since your first meeting with Gojo Satoru and Kakashi Hatake. This had been the longest relationship either men had ever had, both as a three or on their own. It was also painfully clear how absolutely in love both men were with you, and you with them. The change in the three of you was as clear as day, never had anyone seen each of you so happy - is what you constantly heard from everyone you knew, and when you ran into a friend or relative of theirs… with a few exceptions.

The truth had come out about a month in that Gojo was the one with all the money. A ‘representative of his household’ had come to the apartment to visit and go over ‘matters concerning the family’. Satoru had been so laid back through the whole thing, smirking mockingly at the clearly uncomfortable (stuck up) old butler. He’d grabbed your waist as you were walking towards the door to leave, pulling you down and into his lap. It became clear that he wanted to mess with the man opposite him, even Kakashi seemed in on it because he kissed you sweetly as he walked passed.

Gojo wasn’t able to hide his bitterness when the man finally left though, burying his head into your neck and hugging you tightly. His father had been a politician and his mother a CEO of a successful company, he still had connections because of them and shares that were doing incredibly well. Not to mention their life insurance had been enough to set anyone for life.

“It’s not like I was close to them to begin with.” He’d muttered in a bored manner when you’d teared up at the mention of a Satoru toddler being left alone, surrounded by people who wanted to use him for money, power and influence. The butler was a man hired by his fathers old political party and the other share holders at his mothers company. They apparently weren’t best pleased with him settling for being a small time policeman, had hoped to mould him into their puppet to keep both their money making schemes going.

To cheer the three of you up, Gojo had taken the three of you on a spontaneous trip to an Onsen that one of his friends owns, up in the middle of no where. The beautiful, traditional building with modern interior was nestled on the side of a frigging mountain that could only be reached through a thick, ancient forest.

You were the only three guests, and the workers were even excused for the evening, so it felt like you were the only three in the world with the next person been miles away. Which you were insanely grateful for. Because Kakashi and Gojo had made it a completion between them on who could make you scream the loudest.

Three months later, Kakashi had appeared out of no where behind you while you were cooking dinner, wrapping his arms round you gently and kissing your neck soothingly. “Would you join me for a day out tomorrow?”

“Of course I will,” You giggled, shivering as his lips ghosted over the marks on your neck and shoulders, drawing invisible lines like he was drawing constellations. “Where are we going?”

Hatake was silent for a moment before he squeezed you tighter. “I’m going to introduce you to my father.”

To say you were nervous was an understatement, you had agonised over the right outfit for hours the night before, asking both Miku and Sakura for their help. You should have known better, they had spent the majority of the time gushing over your boyfriends and how serious it was getting between you. After all, no one had ever heard of the two most wanted bachelors introducing their conquests to their family and friends, or even going on trips with their lovers, let alone keeping their interest this long.

Finally settling on one of your favourite outfits; something simple, comfortable and trendy, you kept your make-up light and as natural as possible and called yourself ready. Meeting at their apartment, you were surprised to see Kakashi in his policeman formal uniform. God the man looked dashing. Wearing white gloves, black dress shoes, a smart navy suit, light blue tie, hat tucked under his arm and a smirk on his handsome face.

“Enjoying the view baby?” He teased.

You nodded dumbly, bitting your lip to try hide your smirk. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more handsome, you have to go devastate my heart like that.”

“Maybe me and Sato should wear these tonight then.” The suggestion had your thighs clenching, suddenly it was hard to swallow. Hatake chuckled lazily having seen your reaction. “Later baby girl, for now, we have somewhere to go.”

The cemetery was the LAST place you were expecting this day to take you. Kakashi stopped at his fathers tome stone and saluted. It was at least two decades since his fathers death. Kakashi Sakumo, Hatake’s father, had been a respected police detective, and his whole inspirational drive to become a policeman. When Hatake was young, his father had led a team in a drug bust against some of the biggest names in the Yakuza, but had chosen to save his men’s lives rather than capture the villains when things had gone wrong.

The ‘failure’ was a black mark against his name, and soon his was shunned by the media, his fellow detectives and the whole police force. The abuse became so bad, that he took his own life. From then on, Hatake had lived and grown up with Gojo who he was already inseparable with.

“For the longest time…I blamed him too.” Kakashi admitted quietly, holding onto your hand like a life line. “He had a duty to take those dangerous men off the streets, to make the city a safer place for the public, for kids who were in danger of either being hooked onto drugs or joining gangs. Instead he chose to save the lives of his team.” You were silent, what could you possibly say to ease his pain? “But now…” Hatake raised his head with a proud smile. “My views have changed. He didn’t want to chase glory, he just wanted to do the right thing and save lives. In that moment, they needed him, he saw that and did his best. He was willing to die for his men, he didn’t want to see all those family’s mourning for lives he could have spared. I can only hope that one day, I will be as brave as him.”

You are not ashamed to say you cried, standing there looking at the grave of the man who had made Hatake into the man he was. Into the man you loved. You bowed deeply and gave your thanks, promising out loud to take care of his son for as long as you were allowed. Kakashi’s own eyes watered at this as he pulled you close. You don’t know how long you stood there holding each other for, but it didn’t feel like long enough. Part of you thought it would never be enough when it came to the two amazing men who looked at you like you were their whole world.

After the visit, Kakashi had taken you to the old, more traditional part of town so you could go to his favourite restaurant. The two of you were the first to arrive and the last to leave, laughing so much to the point where you were both in tears. It was so light and care free, and you could see the weight just lift off of Hatake’s shoulders.

And when you both finally made it back to their apartment, Gojo was sat on the sofa waiting. Smirking. Also in uniform. That night, not one of you slept.

With your hands locked together in cuffs and blindfold around your eyes, you shook like a leaf in the wind as Kakashi took you from behind, Gojo at your front. If it had been anyone else trying to blindfold you and tie you up, you would have absolutely said no. As it was, Kakashi loved seeing you so vulnerable. So much so that he had stretched your arse as he’d enthusiastically eaten you out, and was now taking advantage of his VERY thorough prep work. He held a vibrator to your clit as he fucked your arse, Gojo keeping your mouth open and busy as he kissed you hungrily so they could hear your moans, squeezing and playing with your tits as he took your front just as roughly.

Not only did you squirt first time, your pretty sure you blacked out for a second. Not that the boys were deterred, they knew you’d tell them if it became too much. Besides, the sounds you were making; the moans, the wet squelching from how wet you were, it was the best yet. You couldn’t walk the next day though and had to ask Miku to record your lecture.

By the fifth month, Gojo and Kakashi had broached the idea of you moving in with them. It was a casual comment made in light conversation one Sunday morning, when they FIRST brought it up. Then it was Kakashi suggesting you keep more of your things with them, mostly because you would ask them to take you back to your apartment with the girls so you could get ready for the day, meaning you would leave earlier than they would like. Eventually Gojo decided they were being too subtle and would cling to you in the mornings, begging you to not leave and to stay with them.

“You guys remember that I’m living with two roommates already right? I can’t just up and leave them like that, they won’t be able to afford rent!”

“But beautifu~l! We want you here with us!”

“What our idiot means to say baby-”

“Hey!”

“Is that, you already spend so much time here, and we love having you with us. Our apartment is even closer to your Uni building! It makes sense surely, for you to move in with us. Or for us even to find a place together-”

“Wow, ok slow down there!” You butt in quickly, cheeks turning pink. Finally the boys had had enough of dancing around the subject and had sat you down to talk about it properly. Talking about moving into their lush apartment was one thing, but talking about a place together, was something else entirely!

Gojo pouted at you in annoyance. “What, you don’t want to live with us?”

“I’m not saying that!” You defended instantly, frowning at him. “I’m saying it’s a BIG step, and I get that you guys feel ready for it, but I don’t ok? For one, five months isn’t that much time dating someone, second, I don’t even have a job yet! And don’t tell me money isn’t an issue and I don’t have to pay rent cause God help me Satoru, I will get up and leave right now.” You threatened.

“Ok you two, lets take a deep breath and talk about this calmly ok?” Hatake soothed, squeezing both your hands. “Baby, if you don’t feel ready then that’s fine, we will not force you. But please know that when you ARE ready, we WANT you here. Ok?” Nodding in understanding, you started to relax. Gojo huffed and crossed his arms, but nodded in agreement. “And about you looking for a job and paying rent. We are not trying to baby you or the like, we just want to take care of you. We know you can take care of yourself but that wont stop us from WANTING to take care of you because you are YOURS. Understand? We love and cherish you, and if we can help you, we want to. If it was us in a difficult situation and you could help us, you would, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course, in a heartbeat.” You muttered with a slight pout.

Kakashi beamed. “It’s the same in our eyes.” And that had been the end of that…for the time being that is.

Just short of the six month mark, you had agreed to go out again with the girls for a night out. Kakashi and Gojo had encouraged you to go, promising that when they were done with their shift, they would come pick you up. They had even bought you a gift voucher for your birthday to buy a new outfit. You had been sure to send the boys a flattering pic of yourself all dolled up before you had left for the night, receiving such thirsty replies that no one would guess that you had spent the night before with them.

The night had been going perfectly, once again you were the most sober of the group, which you were now used to. You had a nice buzz going, there had already been so many laughs and the girls were excitedly giggling about the stories you shared on your boyfriends. (Of course the intimate, personal things you kept to yourself.) You had been to a few bars and your group agreed to end the night at the club you had met your boys in, ‘The Ninja Shrine’. Texting the two policemen still on shift, you let them know that you and your friends had arrived safely, were going to order your drinks and you would be eagerly waiting for them for a dance.

Gojo replied with multiple winky, smirky, and red with sweat drop faces. Kakashi was the only one to give you a verbal reply, promising to be there as soon as they could, and ‘ordering’ you to behave until they arrived. It made you smile, biting your lip. ‘No promises’ was your reply with a winky face, locking your phone and ignoring the bings that followed, knowing that would rile them up more than a reply.

Despite the clear teasing, you stayed against the bar, talking and laughing with your friends as you sipped at your drink. The girls did try convince you to dance with them at one point, but you were waiting a certain pair to join you. After all, dancing with the girls was fun, but it was even better when you had certain pairs of eyes on your body.

“Oh shit,” Miku cursed, suddenly grabbing your arm and turning you away from the door.

“What the hell-?”

“Don’t turn around!” Miku earned, holding onto your shoulders. “One of your boys’s old flings is here, and trust me you don’t want anything to do with her.” Looking subtly out of the corner of your eyes, you saw a pretty strawberry blonde with soft brown eyes and a confident smirk. You could clearly see her figure through her flashy outfit, her expensive designer shoes and handbag on show like she was on the Paris run way. “She was with them for four months, her names Claire Aoki, and she’s a psycho if you ask me.” Miku continued carefully.

Before you could react, the door opened once more and in came your two boyfriends, looking like sex on legs. Gojo wore a flashy designer get up with black jeans and dress shoes, a blue shirt and a leather jacket that you knew for a fact cost more than your joint rent with the girls. Kakashi was also in black dress shoes, black dress pants, a dark grey shirt and a lighter grey silk vest. Their eyes landed on you immediately and began smiling. You smiled back, beaming when they started heading your way.

They hadn’t made it two steps before they were stopped by Claire, her red manicured-nailed hands resting on their chests as she leaned in towards them, pressing her chest into their arms. Kakashi looked panicked, eyes widening as his eyes darted up towards you, then down to her and back. Gojo’s smile shrunk, it was still there, but it looked much more forced now as his blue eyes narrowed at the other woman.

Curious, and not worried at all, you leaned back against the bar. You turned to make yourself look as relaxed as possible, replicating the same look you had the night they had pulled you away from your friends to charm the pants off of you. Your head tilted and your smile grew as their eyes kept on drifting to you. Whatever Claire was saying clearly wasn’t keeping their attention.

Your smile turned to a smirk as Beast by Mia Martina started playing, slowly pushing off the bar as you headed to the dance floor, your friends following. Closing your eyes, you let the music take you away, body rolls moving slow, deliberate. You caught their eyes by dancing for yourself, but now you knew their weaknesses, the parts of you that they loved to tease and squeeze, you knew their bodies like you knew your own. And you fully intended to use that to your advantage.

“Keep your eyes on me,” You sang, looking both men dead in the eyes, smirking as their gazes struggled to meet yours, roaming your form hungrily like they hadn’t seen you in months. “Come here right now,” You continued, your hands reaching out to them, beckoning them to you. “Cause when the sun goes down the beast comes out,” Dropping to the floor, you straightened your legs so you were bent in half, slowly coming up and curving your back as you flipped your hair back gracefully.

“Take you down, down can you keep it up all night,” Smirking, you spun slowly as you exaggerated your hip swaying, making sure they got an eye full of your behind. “You all over my skin, I’m anxious, paint my body boy’s I’ll be your canvas.” Your head snapped back, showcasing all their bruises that they left from the night before.

Next thing you knew, two sets of hands were gripping you tight, one set on your hips and another on your upper thighs. “Da~nm Beautiful!” Gojo growled lowly into your ear, your grin stretching as you giggled, Kakashi ducking his head to bite your neck. “First you ignore us, then you go and put on a show like that for anyone to see. What are you trying to do, hu? You just want us to bend you over our knees don’t you?”

“Maybe I do,” You teased. “Or maybe I’m trying to prove a point to someone who was getting too handsy with what wasn’t theirs.”

“Oh? Someone was getting jealous? As sexy as you are ‘staking your claim’, doesn’t change the fact that your going to get your punishment when we get home, beautifu~l!” Satoru teased, his hand dragging up your body till his hand was at your neck, then he squeezed.

Kakashi let out a ragged breath at your moan. “I think we should get out of here.” Pressing himself harder into you, you could feel his impatience clearly through his pants.

You dared to look around you, eyes meeting with soft brown eyes glaring daggers at you with so much hatred. You would have been scared six months ago, you would have shrunk and shied away. But how could you now when Gojo and Kakashi were stood with you, hands all over you, demanding your love and attention, making you feel so treasured and powerful.

“Kiss me first.” You demanded. Satoru didn’t even hesitate for a second, pulling you into a searing kiss full of passion and desire. You faintly heard Miku and your friends cat call and wolf whistle somewhere near the bar, causing Gojo to pull away and chuckle. The opening was all Kakashi needed. His kiss was equally breathtaking, his movements slower and more controlled, but clearly as desperate to lay claim.

When Hatake pulled away, Gojo effortlessly picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, smacking your arse when you struggled. So you smacked his right back. Again, you couldn’t walk the next day.

By the end of the eight first months, you had finally landed a job interview and was offered the job on the spot, starting small but promised promotions if your work was up to standard. Around the same time your lease on the shared apartment with your friends was up, and you had finally given into your boyfriends hints and agreed to look for a place you could all afford together. What’s more, your graduation was less than a month away. Things were finally falling into place.

You had yet to broach the subject of your relationship status with your parents, though you were pretty sure they had figured out that you were at least dating someone by this point. Admitting that you hadn’t mentioned anything to your parents, you were nervous how the boys would react. But they had simply shrugged, nodded in understanding and reminding you that if you needed their help they were here for you.

Most importantly, you had a job you were doing well in, you were moving into a beautiful home, your friends were happy and doing well in their own fields, and you had two men who loved you unconditionally. You were sure everything was going to work out just right. And with Gojo and Satoru by your side, you could over come anything.

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