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depravitycentral · 4 months

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General Yandere! Jin Bubaigawara Profile

Yandere! Jin Bubaigawara x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, mentions of masturbation, mentions of non-con, mentions of murder, threats, slight emotional manipulation, Jin is a creep and goes through your stuff, breaking and entering, mentions of horrible men who don't respect women (not our lovely Jin), brief mention of strip clubs, mental breaks/Jin's Splits, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Perceptive

More than anything, Jin looks for a darling that can understand him.

He so desperately craves a human connection full of trust and caring, and having a darling who is able to read him like a book would be absolutely perfect.

He needs someone who is able to tell at a glance what he’s thinking – not getting bogged down by the multitudes of personalities shining through at any given time and instead seeing what the real him is feeling.

He craves someone who can offer him a sense of normalcy, someone who can make him feel like less of a freak, like less of a fuck-up, more like a real man. He grows attached to a perceptive darling quickly, feeling at ease in a way that he normally doesn’t.

They’re just perfect – he feels like he can be himself, letting himself be truly authentic and truly Jin.

It’s a luxury he’s nearly never afforded, his darling creating a safe space for him without even realizing it – something he’s beyond grateful for, and something that keeps him running back to his darling at every turn because it feels so damn good to just let himself go and not hold himself back.

It’s wonderful, and as soon as his darling displays this quality, Jin is helplessly, hopelessly hooked.

Sweet

At his core, Jin is a good person who’s made many bad mistakes.

He’s not a bad person by nature – and as a result, Jin finds himself attracted to people who are similar to him. He wants someone who is genuinely a good person – someone who is nice, sweet, someone who’s heart is generally positive and full of happiness.

And Jin particularly likes when this trait is aimed at him – compliments melt his heart. As soon as the words slip off his darling’s lips, Jin’s gaping at them, his heart racing in his chest and his face feeling hot because when was the last time he was complimented?

When was the last time someone praised him, the last time they smiled at him like that, the last time they seemed so genuinely happy to see him?

It doesn’t feel real when he first meets his darling, his interest immediately peaked because god, it really feels like they see him, like they understand him.

It’s euphoric in many ways, leaving his skin prickling in excitement and his stomach fluttering in nerves and pride.

A sweet darling is ideal for him – because even as his obsession festers and his behavior becomes more and more extreme, a darling who remains kind to him will only fuel this infatuation, only pushing him to try harder to win them over, to become more and more desperate to have them as his, just as he begins daydreaming about.

It’s just perfect for him – and he’ll do his absolute best to return the favor, complimenting his beloved as often and as honestly as he can, even if the compliments are more disturbing than flattering.

Calm

Jin needs a darling that can handle his Splits. He needs someone who is not only patient with him, but is also able to take the things he throws at them in stride, not even blinking when Jin falls into a particularly nasty split that’s got him spouting nonsense and panicking.

They need to be able to be calm and help them, assessing the situation and knowing exactly how to talk him down from the episode, to keep him breathing steadily and hold him so that he stays oriented.

He needs a darling that can handle the way his mouth doesn’t seem connected to his brain – random words spilling from his lips that sometimes embarrass him.

When a personality reveals something embarrassing that Jin did as a way to get closet to you, his darling needs to be able to calmly respond, to assess the situation and hopefully come to the conclusion that it’s not true, that there’s absolutely no way that Jin would do something so crazy and strange.

And yet, a calmer darling will be absolutely shocked when they learn that all of the things Jin had divulged without meaning to are true – all of it, down to the stolen socks and stalking to the graphic dreams and preparations of his apartment to make it seem a little more like his darling’s – a little more like them.

A calmer darling is ideal for Jin because he’s simply too excitable and tightly strung to not have a calm darling.

Oblivious

A darling that doesn’t notice the multitude of red flags in his behavior would make Jin’s life much, much easier.

A darling that is oblivious or perhaps blinded by their positive assumptions about people would work in Jin’s favor, because it would allow him to push the boundaries just a bit, just as he does without meaning to, all without having to explain the slip-ups he makes, all without having you grow scared by the way he seems to become more and more present in your life.

He needs a darling who doesn’t realize just how deeply Jin has invaded their life – so they can’t run before he manages to ensnare them, so they can’t leave him and abandon him like he’s so afraid they will.

Plus, there’s something endearing about this trait that Jin just can’t shake.

It makes him feel like a protector, making it easier to convince himself that his darling needs him to be around in order to safely function, to not be taken advantage of by some creep with bad intentions.

It makes justifying his actions much, much easier, lessening the small sense of guilt that eats away at him, lessening the insecurity that pushes him to draw back every once in a while, convinced that he’ll never be good enough for his precious lovely darling.

An oblivious darling would allow him to operate with less secrecy and fear, something that Jin is grateful for. Plus, they’re just so damn cute – cute enough to eat.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Clingy

Once Jin’s feelings for you take root, it’s over.

He’s so broken and lost, quite literally unsure of his place in the world, his purpose, himself. And so once you step into his life, with your pretty face and even prettier voice that says the nicest, most caring things to him, Jin’s reaction is nearly out of his control.

How can he not become absolutely, utterly enraptured with you when you’re so kind to him?

When you smile at him like that, all teeth and appled cheeks and this sparkle in your eye that he can tell isn’t forced, how can he not find himself swooning? How can he not be smitten with you when you look at him like he’s a person, like he’s worth something, like he has value and isn’t just a waste of space?

It’s euphoric, something that makes his pulse race and his cheeks tinge pink, and so of course he’s desperate to spend time with you, to be in your presence and soak up every ounce of you that he possibly can. In the beginning, when his feelings are freshly formed and still having some semblance of normalcy, Jin’s too shy to directly ask you to be with him.

He’ll struggle to look you in the eye, rubbing the back of his neck and letting his gaze flick to you every few seconds as he mumbles out a rushed, awkward, so um, I was uh, wondering if you’d like to see that new movie this weekend…

It’s hard to hear and you’ll ask him to repeat himself, only furthering his embarrassment and making him wince because obviously you’re going to say no – you’re too pretty and smart and sweet for him, why would you ever say yes to a washed-up criminal like him? But before he can even get the chance to respond, he’s blurting out a let me take ya to the theater, yeah? We can get seats in the back where it’s just the two of us.

He’s mortified, immediately clasping a hand over his mouth and his eyes going wide; he didn’t mean it like that! Well, okay, maybe he did, and maybe the idea of being a dim, warm place with comfortable velvet seats and sugary drinks with his body pressed right next to yours is incredibly enticing and enough to make him salivate and pant like some fucking dog –

Except you’ll still say yes, because at this point Jin’s infatuation – while still painfully obvious – seems like just a crush. He’s awkward and flustered around you, but that’s kind of endearing and sweet, isn’t it?

A fully grown man – and one who’s seen more horrors than you can imagine – is bashful over you?

It’ll have you looking past the way that he always seems to show up at the places you frequent, that same nervous and hopeful look on his face as he scans the crowd for your familiar figure.

It’ll have you looking past the way he puts his hand on your back and keeps it there for much, much too long, never moving downwards but always staying firm, as if he’s glued to you, as if separating himself from you is physically painful.

It’ll have you looking past the way he begs you to share just one more glass of cheap booze, telling you that it’s good for you, that it’ll help you relax and destress from that job of yours that you hate.

(Plus, you look so damn cute when you’re tipsy – all clumsy and giggly, your inhibitions lowered so that you don’t notice when his gaze lingers on you for just a beat too long, when his hand skims across your thigh, when he leans in much too close and inhales much too loudly.)

You’ll write off most of Jin’s clingy behaviors with a wave of your hand and an excuse that it’s simply how he processes his trauma. And it’s true, to some extent. Except you don’t know the full extent – you don’t know how he follows you home every night, trying his best to stay quiet as he lurks in the shadows, making sure no one approaches you on your commute back to the quaint little apartment he’d give absolutely anything to share with you.

You don’t know the way he borrows small items of yours, keeping them on his ragged nightstand next to the bare mattress he sleeps on, your hair clips and toothbrushes kept as pristine and safe as he possibly can.

(He’ll pick them up with trembling fingers, scared that even simply touching something of yours will break it, yet simultaneously thrilled that he has something of yours, something of an angel’s.)

You aren’t aware of the way he fantasizes about you constantly, imagining everything from linking your pinkies together to burying his face between your legs. (And in vivid, vivid detail, too – even going so far as to mimic your voice and sit on his own hand so that it'll go numb, just like some teenage boy.)

You’ll write it off, but Jin sees this as permission to push further, to try harder, to test the boundaries of your ‘friendship’ as far as he can without you growing suspicious. He’ll pull you into hugs with higher frequency and longer times, keeping you pressed against his body while he buries his face into your neck and tries not to moan at the smell of you.

He’ll spam your phone with text after text, conveying conflicting messages that showcase just how little control over himself and his split personalities where you’re concerned.

(You’ll have to turn off your ringer permanently with him around – he will drive you insane, the buzzing noise and the obnoxious little bring making you lose your mind. He texts you day and night, your peaceful sleep interrupted with the notification of fifty unread texts from him, ranging from single sentences to near paragraphs.)

He’s not exactly subtle, and while you’ll cling to your excuse of him just being lonely and struggling to cope with his past, eventually you’ll have to realize that Jin isn’t just using you to help him work through his previous experiences – no, he wants more.

He wants you. He needs you, to a degree where his every waking thought revolves around you, and most of his dreams do, too. He’s clingy and needy and always, always demanding your attention, and eventually you’ll find yourself nearly ripping your hair out because you just can’t seem to get a moment of privacy around the blond, his eyes always watching you and his fingers always itching to reach out and touch, to press against your skin, to make sure that you’re real and present and with him.

He just needs the reassurance that you won’t leave him, that you’ll stay with him, that you’ll always be with him – you keep him from splitting after all, and how could he ever thank you?

By being your personal watchdog and eagerly completing each and every request of yours, no matter how depraved or inhumane and dehumanizing. Anything for you.

Obsessive

Tying hand in hand with his clinginess, Jin finds himself drowning in a sea of you once his feelings form. He finds himself so overwhelmed with all the warring desires in his heart – he wants to see you, his fingers twitching and itching to set his eyes on you, to be in your presence and bask in you you you.

But he also wants to spend time laying on his dingy mattress, his eyes closed as he mentally lists all of the things he loves about you, all the things that leave him breathless and blushing and reaching out towards you with trembling hands.

He wants to speak with you, to maybe make you laugh and hear that wonderful laugh of yours all because of something he said, but he’s also too afraid to instigate conversations with you because he’s worried he’ll somehow fuck up and scare you off.

(And just the mere thought of that gets him in a cold sweat, hands gripping at his blond hair and his eyes squeezing shut, lips moving like lightning as he repeats the mantra that you want him you want him you want him… Splits caused by his doubt for your feelings for him are always the worst – they last longer, they leave a more harrowing impact, and – worst of all – he’s so distracted by his feelings that he loses all awareness of his surroundings. He’s no longer aware of the vase nearby, knocking into it and sending the thing shattering against the floor, the sound and the feeling of glass shards pricking at his feet not even pulling him out of his stupor.)

He’s a mess in every meaningful way, and yet the only thing he can regularly, consistently bring himself to do is amass more and more information about you. You’re his own personal drug; one that calms him slightly, that makes him feel more whole – thinking of you is the only thing that can keep him focused, and this manifests itself in many ways.

Mainly, Jin takes to stalking you very, very early on. He’s simply too intrigued and attached to not follow you home, unwilling to let you out of his sight for even a few seconds. He’s worried for your safety, sure, because he’s sure that a sweet, lovely thing like you could never defend yourself should a villain confront you, but that’s not why he’s trailing you in the shadows like some loser, like some freak.

No – the real reason is much more depraved, sadder and more pathetic than Jin himself would like to admit. It’s really because with every moment he watches you, he learns more and more about you.

Each night that he trails you home from work, he’s learning enough things to fuel his dreams that night – you avoid sidewalks with people when it’s late at night, preferring instead to cross the street so that you won’t pass them.

(Not that he’d let anything happen to you – he’d kill whoever laid a finger on you. He’d start by punching them, getting them to the ground and sinking his fist against their cheek and jaw again and again and again, then wrap his fingers around their neck and squeeze, feeling the way they’d wheeze and choke and desperately grapple at this fingers, begging him to save their worthless life. Begging with that same voice that they could’ve been calling out lewd and inappropriate things to you in, touching him with those hands that he’s sure they would’ve used to touch you, to taint and mar your pretty skin and leave you scared and trembling and shaking and needing someone like Jin to come and rescue you –

The man would be dead before Jin knows it, his lip caught between his teeth because although killing someone doesn’t necessarily feel good, there’s something pleasant swimming in his gut because now this person will never, ever get near you again.)

He learns that you always stop to look at pretty window displays, the glittering Christmas lights and decorations making you twinkle in turn, the colors shining against your skin and clothes in a way that makes Jin swear you’re an angel, as if you’re a personal piece of heaven just for him, no matter how undeserving he may be.

He learns that you keep your spare apartment key under your welcome mat, always fishing it out before you slip into your apartment. Your apartment, which he’s visiting numerous times – enough times that if he had to, he could navigate with his eyes closed. He’s poured through every square inch of your home – digging through drawers and marveling at each little trinket he can find, no matter how mundane.

He rifled through your kitchen drawer last month, noticing with baited breath that you have a variety of spices in your cupboard – you must like your food well-seasoned. He’s not a very good cook, but for you, he could be – and all too soon images of you leaning close to him, your lashes fluttering and your eyes sultry as you eat the bit of food off his outstretched fork, making a show of swallowing and telling him that his cooking is so good Jin, you’re so wonderful for me…

He’d also found a pair of scissors, something that’d made his brows furrow in worry because although he trusts that you’re responsible, it still makes him nervous for you to have something like this laying around your house – something that could easily cut you, something that has the potential to hurt you.

He’s gone through each and every piece of silverware you own, looking at each fork and knife and gulping, his cheeks red as he thinks of the way you’ve used these pieces of metal – your lips and tongue have pressed against the material, your saliva coating the fork’s prongs, the slurping and sucking noises you make as you eat the soup off of your spoon.

He’ll gulp, looking around your empty apartment, then quickly shove the fork into his mouth, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head because although you’ve washed it, he swears the fork tastes like you – and isn’t this almost a form of an indirect kiss? Aren’t his lips touching something yours has, his tongue rubbing and caressing the prongs just as yours might have?

(The thought leaves his knees weak, his pants unbearably tight, the fork clutched tightly in his fist as he wills himself to stay strong, to keep going and not crumple to a ball in the middle of your kitchen and fuck his fist like he so desperately needs to.)

He’ll sit on your couch, his breath uneven as soon as the soft cushions rest below him, his muscles tense and tight because he’s seen you sit here, watched as you laughed and roared at some television show, your pretty body molding to the couch’s cushions, your pajamas looking so cute and adorable and sexy on you.

His hands idly run over the couch fabric, his Adam’s Apple bobbing because oh, you’ve touched this before, haven’t you? He’ll meander into your bathroom, fingering your towels and letting his tongue slip over his lips, internally debating if it’s really such a good idea, if it’s crossing a boundary, if it really wouldn’t hurt…

And soon he’s stepping into your shower, the hot water (set to the temperature he knows you like) cascading down his nude body. He’ll open each of your shower products and eagerly smell them, something like a strangled groan slipping past his lips with each smell. He’s using your hair care products, lathering himself in your body wash, using your loofah and even using your razor, just because he wants the full experience of you, to be as close to you as possible given your current absence in the apartment.

And of course he’ll be using the towel once he’s finished – your towel, the one that still smells like you and has a strand or two of your hair sitting so perfectly and neatly on it.

(Jin picks up the hairs in awe, swallowing and bringing the hair up, his tongue brushing against the strand, his teeth clenching down as he chews at it.)

He wants to touch your toothbrush (so badly that it nearly hurts), but he stops himself, deciding that he should save that honor for when you’re sharing a toothbrush, when you’re with him every morning and night.

And of course, he’s tiptoeing into your bedroom, his eyes going wide and his nostrils flaring because oh god, it smells exactly like you and he thinks he might faint because it feels like you’re really here with him, like you’re by his side and hugging him and he’s surrounded by you you you.

He’s mostly respectful – or at least, as much as a man breaking-and-entering into your apartment can be, avoiding your underwear drawers despite the voice in his head urging him to snatch a pair of panties.

(The sexy ones, you know ‘em – the lacy black ones, the ones you were thinkin’ of last night when you jerked off so many times you were shootin’ blanks.)

He’ll open your closet, whistling at the sight of all your clothes. He’ll try on as many things as he can, hoping that things will fit him, always careful to hang them back up exactly as he found them, though a small part of him hopes that you can smell him on the clothing, that you’ll be reminded of him and be comforted. He’ll sit on your bed, breath hitched as he feels the way the mattress sags under his weight, before laying down slowly.

He’d showered that morning and was suddenly thankful for it – he wouldn’t want to sully your comforter with any dirt or grime. He’ll even dare to get under the covers for a moment, letting his eyes flutter closed as he imagines laying with you, spooning you with sunlight streaming in through the window, feeling your body (nude, of course, because he sleeps nude and all couples should sleep without clothing, yes?) against his and relishing in the smell of your hair and the nape of your neck.

All the while, Jin is noticing and mentally cataloguing every little detail he can process while in your apartment – the color scheme, what photographs you have up, what decorates your walls, whether there’s dirty clothes on your floors or bed or if you’re perfectly clean. Because really, everything is important – every little scrap of knowledge he can glean about you feeds the insatiable desire he harbors for you, this uncontrollable urge to be with you at all moments of the day.

This satisfies him, for now – it’s enough for the time being to be living as your shadow, but soon he’ll want to be by your side, hearing you say his name and feeling your soft hands touching him.

And he’ll do absolutely anything you tell him – all with an eager nod and a franticness to his actions that would leave him wildly embarrassed if it was anyone other than you.

Anyone other than the woman he’s hopelessly infatuated with – the one he'd get on his knees and literally beg for, even just for a simple glance his way.

Gentle

As a general rule, Jin absolutely does not want to hurt you.

Despite his status as a villain, he’s caring and soft to almost a debilitating degree, the notion of violence often necessary but not something he actively pursues. And so, of the small list of people in this world that he cares about, he would never purposefully harm any of them – and because you sit smack at the top of that list, this sentiment is only more extreme.

He thinks of you as perfection, idolizing you in every possible way, and so to even entertain the idea of leaving any sort of physical or emotional damage to you makes Jin physically ill, a Split oncoming as his stomach heaves, his head feeling dizzy and light as panic engulfs him. He absolutely does not want to harm you or upset you in any way, and this ultimately results in Jin being a yandere who is neither harsh nor patronizing, but rather simply gentle.

He treats you like an absolute queen; though he’s in a financial position that makes legally procuring gifts for you a little trickly, Jin goes out of his way to try and provide you with everything and anything he can to make you happy.

Before kidnapping you, this looks like buying you small, simple little token gifts – a small, modest bouquet of flowers (bouquet being a stretch – more often than not it’s just a single flower that he himself plucked from the ground, keeping the flower safe and preserved on his journey to find you – searching your most frequently visited locations, of course, and tapping into the tracker he'd managed to get Skeptic to install into your confiscated phone).

It looks like him offering to treat you to dinners and lunches, always at places that are within his price range (because stealing food in front of you would be a tacky move and although he can’t keep the façade of his occupation away from you forever, he’d like you to think of him as a dignified man), with greasy tables and even greasier meals, dingy lighting and seats with duct tape holding the leather booths together.

It’s not much, but it’s all Jin can offer you – and he does so with the most heart-melting, hopeful smile, his eyes soft and this look of utter vulnerability scrawled across his face that’ll have you giving in almost immediately, agreeing to getting lunch with him despite the way that his blatant staring bothers you.

(As does the way he leans in and inhales deeply when your back is turned. You can hear the breathing, the strange gulping sound that follows, and although it makes the bad kind of shivers race up your spine, you don’t bring it up with him.)

And once he’s stolen you away, that façade of being a dignified man is up – he’s still spoiling you, even more so than before your forced captivity with him, but now he doesn’t feel that he has to pay to spoil you. Now, he can steal your favorite things – because really, anything is worth seeing your smile light up your whole face when he brings home that expensive pastry he knows you love.

(The sweet is perfectly preserved, not a single wrinkle in the pretty, ornate parchment paper it’s wrapped in, nor is any portion of the sweet itself squished. He’d paid extra care to keep everything perfectly in-tact – perfect for you, because anything less than that would be an insult to his love for you.)

He’s bringing home all sorts of movies for the two of you to watch together, his hand slowly inching to your thigh as you sit side by side on his shitty old couch, the television on but all his attention focused on trying to be subtle about showing you just how badly he needs to touch you. He’s trying his best to get your favorite foods every night, getting you a few new clothes (and some of his own – he’s got a few sweatshirts that he will be forcing you into wearing, the sight of you in his clothing making his face scarlet and his face buried in his hands, his lip caught between his teeth as he tries and fails to compose himself because god, you look so good and it looks so fucking right to see you in something of his.)

Really, while Jin knows that he can’t buy your love and acceptance of his feelings, he’s desperate for any sort of help to get you moving that way. Any aid he can enlist in helping spark and develop any sort of reciprocation of his obsession with you is eagerly used, hope springing up inside his chest that maybe, just maybe, if he can make you happy enough you’ll forget that he’s a criminal, that he’s kidnapped you, that you’ve found out about all the stalking and stealing used socks and living in your apartment while you weren’t home.

He’s hopeful that all his hard work will pay off – you’ll see him as a man who really, truly loves you, even if he doesn’t deserve you.

God, he’ll never deserve someone like you – but he’ll never stop wanting you, either.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

In general, Jin’s jealousy stems less from a place of selfish possessiveness and more from a place of insecurity and genuine worry for your safety.

Jin is more than aware that he’s not your ideal man – he’s a criminal with deaths to his name, renting a shitty apartment he can barely afford, riddled with mental health issues stemming from his quirk, and perpetually smelling like cigarettes. He’s very aware that if you were left to your own devices, you’d never pick him – and he can’t blame you, honestly. He’s a loser, a grown man with so many voices inside his head that he can’t keep track of them, and if he were a woman as pretty, sweet, and smart as you, he’d choose someone more successful, wealthier, more stable, just better.

And so, when he sees another man interact with you, his initial thought is that this is it – you’ll like this man more than you like Jin.

Maybe he’s funnier and wittier, or maybe he’s charming and suave with his words, two things that Jin himself certainly isn’t. Maybe he’s more attractive – without a nasty scar down the center of his forehead, or maybe you prefer brunettes like him, or maybe he’s taller.

Regardless, insecurity immediately eats away at Jin, forcing him to notice all of the things that man does better than him, all of the things that could pull your attention and feelings – whatever those may be – away from Jin and instead towards this stranger.

And while he initially feels that this is true, that this is the natural course of things and it’s how it should be, the longer he watches the interaction, the less satisfied with that he becomes. He grows restless, his fingers twitching at his sides, his muscles tensing and flexing and urging him to do something, whether that’s interrupting the two of you or causing a large enough distraction to end whatever conversation you’re having. It’s nearly unbearable, an internal war raging the longer he watches on, his lips moving and all sorts of different arguments and urges slipping off his tongue.

Go interrupt them!

No, it would be wrong of me to insert myself into a conversation that I’m not a part of.

Fuck that, he wants to steal her! He wants to make her his own!

You don’t know that, you can’t claim something that extreme without any foundation to base it on!

You can see his face, you can tell he wants to fuck her – look at that, he’s practically undressing her with his eyes!

It goes back and forth, seeming to never end, until eventually Jin forces himself to turn around and walk away, the part of him that’s insecure finally winning out the longer he notices things that are simply better about this stranger. It’s torturous and makes him bit his lip so hard it draws blood, his steps labored and heavy, but it’s the right thing to do.

And if you respond to his texts later that night, Jin will know that you haven’t completely forgotten him – perhaps you’ve forgotten this stranger, though, because you’re choosing to respond to Jin’s texts, not his. And this idea makes a wobbly smile spread across Jin’s face, his thumbs typing away at his cracked phone, deleting and retyping over and over again as he tries to think of ways to keep the conversation going, wanting so very badly to keep talking to you and keep your attention on him.

However, although Jin is fairly complacent and non-confrontational when it comes to most of your interactions with other men, there are a few circumstances where he’s not nearly as controlled – that is, when Jin can tell that the man has bad intentions.

It’s one thing to see you talk with a man that clearly finds you attractive, but it’s an entirely different story when Jin can see the gun or knife glinting in the man’s pocket, or when he recognizes the man’s face as a petty criminal known for pickpocketing defenseless women. It’s in these circumstances where Jin’s face will harden up, his lips a thin, straight line as he approaches the both of you, butting his way in with an excited greeting aimed at you, his eyes cold as he stares the man down.

And frankly, most petty villains will recognize him – sure, he isn’t the most famous villain, but he’s still a member of the League, and the perpetrator will often make some excuse and scurry away, not wanting to stir up any trouble with the League over some stupid woman.

And though Jin won’t want to explain why the man fled so quickly, he’s absolutely smug that his mere presence was enough to deter the man from bothering you anymore. He’ll look at you with excited eyes, his cheeks lightly flushed, hoping and praying that you’ll compliment him, that you’ll praise him and thank him because really, you wanted the man to go away but you were too scared to do it yourself.

And maybe, just maybe, if he’s really lucky, you’ll even give him a peck on the cheek as a thanks, the feeling of your lips against his skin making his heart race, this strange half-whimper slipping from his throat because you’re so close that he can smell you, and it’s fresh and real this time – not just the residual scent of your pillow your towel.

It’s wishful thinking, but Jin likes being your guardian angel – he’s anything but an angel, really, but it makes him feel important, needed, good. Like he’s actually giving you something, instead of just taking and taking and taking.

This is wrong, and Jin knows it. He shouldn’t be here – the cute little café is a public space, sure, but there was absolutely no chance that he would’ve found himself here if he hadn’t been trailing you for the last thirty minutes.

And he’d enjoyed it – watching you walk, seeing how your hair flittered a little in the breeze, the sway of your hips (something he tried hard not to look at but still found his gaze wandering down to every few minutes, his cheeks growing pink and palm coming up to smack at his cheek).

But the moment you’d entered the café, Jin following a few steps behind, he knows something is wrong. Instead of sitting at your own table, you make a beeline to the larger wooden one by the window – the one where a man is already sitting. Jin sits at his own table, some twenty feet away, bringing a flimsy newspaper up to cover his face.

The man greets you with a smile, introducing himself, complimenting your outfit and even pushing your fucking chair in, and suddenly it becomes very apparent what’s happening.

You’re on a date. A fucking date. Jin feels his face slip, a deep frown etching its way onto his lips. It’s torture to listen to you; your voice is a little higher than usual, he notes, and something sharp wedges its way between his ribs.

You never speak to him with that kind of voice – does that mean you aren’t interested in him? Does that means you don’t like him? Don’t say stupid crap like that! Are you stupid? It’s probably true! He winces, knocking at his head with his hand as a feeble attempt to get the warring thoughts to stop.

The date goes well, as far as Jin can tell – conversation flows easily, and with every passing moment he finds himself growing more and more restless, the hopelessness beginning to take its toll. He wants to interrupt – badly, really, with every fiber of his being. But that wouldn’t be fair to you – you obviously seem to like this man, perhaps even more than you like Jin, as loathe as he is to say it, and what right does he have to take that happiness away from you?

It hurts him, yes, but if it means staying in your life and seeing you happy, even if it’s with another man, he’ll grit his teeth and not play dirty. Your happiness is top priority, after all – and as you leave the café, you and the man going your separate ways, Jin can only hope that you will not be receiving any calls or texts from the man, even as you happily give him your number. He’s still gripping his hands into tight fists, even as he begins trailing the man.

This sight is significantly less pleasant than when he follows you – he doesn’t mind looking at you, not when you’re all pretty and sweet and you seem so very innocent. But this man? Well, as he approaches a bar a few blocks away, Jin’s brow cocks up. A mid-afternoon drink seems a little strange, and as Jin steps inside the bar after the man, a small burst of pride blooms in his chest.

Because really, this is not just a bar – there’s a stage, at the far back of the establishment, with all sorts of different colored lights beaming down on the main act: a scantily clad woman leaning back on a pole, winking at a man sitting in the front row. Jin’s taken aback – surely this can’t be a good sign, right?

You didn’t need to be seeing any men who frequent strip clubs – and with the way the man immediately went up to the bar, ordering a shot and acting friendly with the bartender, Jin’s sure this isn’t the first time he’s visited.

With a smile, Jin decides that this is finally something that Jin is better at – he’s many things, sure, but he only has eyes for you and he’d never seek out the visual comforts of another woman.

And as Jin approaches the bar, ears perked up, anger brews in his gut. Yeah man, just wrapped up a date – girl’s awful, talking about her family and shit, who the hell wants to hear that? She’d look better if she just shut the fuck up.

Jin’s jaw is on the floor, rage swimming in his veins. How dare this man speak about you that way – as if you’re just some random woman, as if everything you say isn’t gospel, something worthy of being revered and paid the utmost attention to. How dare this man dismiss you like that – after you’d been so happy, after you’d thought the date had gone so well, after he’d asked for your number, for God’s sake.

And with that, Jin sinks into his jacket, closing his eyes and trying to subdue the urge to walk over and sock the guy across the face so hard that he spits out a few teeth. No, that wouldn’t accomplish anything except a few moments of satisfaction – no, Jin has to take more drastic measures, something that will ensure that you and your fragile little heart won’t be hurt by this horrible, disgusting man.

And so, as Jin slips away, it’s not so hard to send you a fake text from the man, asking if he can swing by your apartment.

And you, being flustered that your date had contacted you to fast and so eagerly of course say yes, inviting him over for dinner. Jin smiles down at the phone with a big, bashful beam, able to pretend for just a few moments that he was supposed to be the recipient of that text, that really it was him you were inviting over for a homecooked meal, then maybe a movie, then maybe you’d stay up and talk with him for hours, falling asleep in his arms and letting him hold you like he spend hours dreaming of.

(Or, if you’re feeling a bit frisky, perhaps you’d let him spread your legs and spend hours with his head trapped between them, your taste and smell clouding his senses as he brings you to your high over and over and over…)

It’s not hard to make a copy of the man, to get him at your apartment door, that same suave walk and the high cheekbones making you bashful as you open your apartment door. But then, the man sneers at you, looking you up and down just as Jin had instructed, scoffing under his breath and telling you that you’re even uglier the second time I see you. I just came by to tell you that I don’t wanna see you anymore – you’re not my type, you know? I like ‘em a little more interesting. But if you wanna fuck, I’d be more than happy to –

You slam the door in his face, chest heaving and tears pricking at your eyes, and although it nearly braks Jin’s heart, he closes his eyes and breaths deep, reminding himself that although hurting you is making every bone in his body feel brittle and about ready to snap, this is necessary.

It’s necessary because the man probably would’ve done worse if left to his own devices – if his conversation with the bar tender was any indication, you would’ve been used for your body and then unceremoniously dumped in the trash. And you deserve so, so much more than that – Jin is sure of it, and Jin can give you that if you’d just let him.

He gives you some time, sure that you’re sobbing behind the front door, and it’s only an hour or so later that he texts you (from his real number, of course) if you’d like to grab dinner. He’s equal parts nervous and ecstatic when you respond with a simple yes, already eager to get you distracted from that loser – and, perhaps, even manage to show you how much better Jin can treat you.

He's charming that night, on his best behavior, telling you all sorts of jokes and asking about things he knows you love to ramble on about, just wanting to hear your voice and watch your lips move. And soon, the guilt is totally washed away – because really, would you have ever been able to speak this freely with that man? Absolutely not. Jin may not deserve you, but at least he can treat you well – so why can’t you see that?

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Jin doesn’t want to kidnap you, but he will eventually reach a point where his anxiety, paranoia and profession leave him with no other choice. He’s fully aware that his obsession with you has grown to such astronomical proportions that it’s literally controlling his life, but he doesn’t seriously entertain the notion that you’re just as deeply in love and devoted to him as he is you.

(Obviously he likes to think that you are – pleasant daydreams star you with your lips pressed against his jaw as you tell him just how much he means to you, just how badly you want him, just how much you need him, but he’s always brought back to reality with a cruel slap, Dabi barking his name or an alarm clock going off and leaving him feel empty, alone, restless for you.)

He knows that he possesses a one-sided love for you, and in the beginning of his obsession, that was enough. It was enough to simply be seen by you – to have your attention on him if only for a few seconds, your smile and warm and inviting and genuine as you spoke to him. It was enough that he was a silent admirer, watching you from the shadows of your life and eagerly anticipating your next encounter, no matter how large or small.

It was enough, until suddenly it wasn’t. Suddenly Jin needed to have more contact with you – getting your phone number had been one of the most nerve-wracking things he’d ever done, his fear of rejection so incredibly high that it made his voice a bit scratchy and he’d almost stuttered, leaving him mortified but only more enamored with you when you just laughed and gladly filled out your contact information into his phone.

And that had been enough for a time, too – he could text you, sending you photos of the sunset that he spent five minutes trying to find the perfect camera settings and angles for, just so that he could send as good of a photo to you as possible and have you be impressed.

(He’d been hoping you’d even compliment him as a response, perhaps telling him that it’s so beautiful, Jin! You’re so talented at photography! Or, in an even more idealized world, you’d tell him how beautiful the stars are and then immediately follow that up with an offer to go star gazing, to spend the evening together curled up in some remote field staring up at the sky and using each other as body heat to stay warm in the cold night air.)

But then the texting and calling wasn’t enough – soon he needed more, and that’s when the stalking began. He’d follow you to work, then immediately return to your apartment and snoop around, touching everything and picking everything up just so that there was at least some memory of him on everything you own.

And this had to be enough – this was the furthest Jin could get away with without you noticing, without you cutting him out of your life completely once you realized just how truly deranged for you he was.

But then somehow a hero finds out about you, and suddenly your position in his life is threatened, and Jin panics. He totally, utterly panics, a Split intense enough to bring tears to his eyes forcing him to rely on the one person he trusts more than any other soul on the planet: you.

He comes to you, babbling and going on about some sort of internal debate that you can’t follow, and as you try to calm him down, your words start slowly sinking into Jin’s psyche. You keep saying that you’re there, that you’ll always be there for you, I promise.

You’re pulling him into your side, a cloth bag placed over hie head while you rub at his arms and back, shushing him gently and even rocking him back and forth every so slightly. And so, as the Split slowly fades and he calms down, two things happen – one, you sigh in relief and hope that Jin has processed some of his emotions and will leave, and two, Jin hearing your words as a promise that you want him, that you need him, that you want to stay by his side for the rest of your life.

And so, in the aftermath of a horrible mental health episode, Jin decides that you’ve essentially given him permission to make sure you really are always going to be there for him, just like you said.

It’s not hard to sneak into your apartment that night, the chloroform soaked rag sitting underneath your nose in a way that made it difficult not to swoon over your adorable sleeping figure.

(Jin gulps and swallows as he stares at your limp body, his hand reaching out to very, very lightly brush his fingertips over the expanse of your clothed hip, wide eyes staring at you as if you’re some piece of art, something for him to keep and cherish and love.)

And when you wake up the morning, you’ll find yourself in a strange bedroom with a strange man who’ll spoil you rotten – even if you beg him not to, even if you say the only gift you want is to be let free.

As a captor, Jin isn’t too terrible – all those desires to spoil you and make you happy are still very much present within him even once he’s stolen you away.

In fact, if anything he’s even more desperate to get you smiling, to see you be happy and looking at him with anything other than fear and hate. Because really, after that Split that led to him kidnapping you calms down, Jin is only left with complete and utter regret – you’ll hate him now, he’s sure of it.

You’ll be afraid of him, thinking of him not as the sweet, funny, and harmless Jin you’ve come to know but instead a monster, a criminal capable of hurting you in more ways than one. And this kills him – he hates being looked at like he’s ruined your life, even if he basically has. And because of this, he decides that the only way to get you to slowly see him in a positive light again is if he makes your life with him as good as possible – if he spoils you, treats you like a queen, pampers you and cares for you with the level of devotion that you deserve.

And frankly, Jin is more than happy to give you this – he’s a worshipper through and through, already revering you like you’re something holy and in need of constant praise. He’ll outfit his dingy apartment the best that he can – there’s freshly stolen furniture in your favorite colors and fabrics, changed lightbulbs for his overhead lights work, a stocked refrigerator, a new mattress.

(Only one though, so you’ll still have to share with him – but don’t be too worried, because he won’t actively try anything without your explicit permission. At least, he won’t while he’s awake – when he’s asleep is an entirely different story, because that’s when his real desires come out, unchecked and uncontrolled as he grinds his hips against your ass, his little moans and whispers of your name as he presumably has a wet dream about you more than a little awkward to lie next to. Don’t mention it to him though, please – he can tell that his cum is staining his boxers, but he’s always hopeful that you slept through it all, that you didn’t notice the way he was probably trying to get stimulation, that you didn’t see just how depraved and desperate for intimacy he is.)

He’s getting you comfortable clothing; lots of sweatshirts and lounging pants, fuzzy socks and even a few hats for when the heating in the building goes out (as it often does).

(He really likes to see you in his clothing, of course, but Jin isn’t too terribly pushy – he’d be ecstatic if you willingly wore something of his, his face bright red and all sorts of things coming out of his mouth, but he’s really and truly pleased, a satisfied and smug feeling burrowing in his chest that’s difficult to hide. Sometimes he’ll even wear the new clothing first, making sure that it smells like him, before handing it off for you to hear, biting his lip and struggling to stay calm because god, you look so damn good in what he’d just worn, god you’re really here with him right now and looking at him and touching him and acknowledging him.)

He’ll stock up on all your favorite foods, paying special attention to making sure he has every snack under the sun. And while he does care about your health, when he’s buying you all these snacks, he’ll get absolutely anything you want, even if there’s so much sugar and such little nutritional value that it makes him nervous.

He can’t cook very well, but he’ll order takeout or swing by a restaurant and steal something for dinner, always loving the look of hunger and shy thankfulness as you bite into the meal he’s brought you, trying hard to ignore the way he’s blatantly staring at you and awaiting your approval.

And really, that’s another part of your captivity with him – the staring, the touching, the constant talking, the constant him. He’s always been clingy with you, but it’s even more so once he's got you trapped under his thumb. He always has to be looking at you, observing you and feeling like he’s a part of whatever you’re doing. He wants to see everything you’re up to – when you’re watching television, he’s watching you.

(And nervously playing with his fingers, like there’s something he wants to ask you but is afraid to, right up until he blurts it out, something crude and rude and it immediately makes him apologize, gripping at his hair a bit and telling you about how he didn’t mean it, oh man I promise I didn’t mean it!)

When you’re doing one of the puzzles he’d stolen to help keep you entertained while he was busy, he’s sitting on the other side of the table, those eyes of his glued onto your fingers as you try each piece, watching with rapt attention and marveling at how you slowly make progress, feeling smug and prideful because his girl is so smart.

When you’re stepping into the shower, you can see him out of the corner of your eye, not peeking at you but simply staring at the open doorway of the bathroom, his back facing the shower but his presence still suffocating you.

(He refuses to leave alone during showers, simply because he’s terrified that you’ll slip and fall, that you’ll crack your head open or accidentally swallow shampoo or any number of other wild, outlandish things. And, as he listens to the sound of running water, he’s hoping that one day he’ll get to join you – that one day you’ll be able to bathe together. He’ll run his fingers over your roots, massaging the shampoo into your hair slowly and deeply, your body pressed close to his as the water cascades down your back. He’ll have you lather up his body with that scented body wash you love, and maybe you’ll even draw shapes with the bubbles, press kisses to his naked chest or press yourself against him, whispering in your ear that you love him...)

Truly, Jin is not so bad – he's clingy and you’ll have absolutely no time to yourself, but he’s not too invasive. He doesn’t treat you like an incompetent child, and he at least tries to make you happy – he won’t push you into a physical relationship, not does he demean you in any purposeful way.

The only true negative with Jin (aside from your kidnapping in the first place, not to mention the stalking and hyper fixation) is that although he tries his best to control it, Splits are not pretty, and you’re always the one he comes to her help. When you’re around they happen significantly less often, his comfort level higher and his concentration wavering from his own identity crisis and instead towards you, just as his thoughts often do, but they still happen.

And when they do, he’s blindly searching for you, reaching out bleary, teary eyes and all sorts of babbles and rambles coming from his mouth, every muscle in his body tensing up as he clutches onto you, begging for you to help him, to please, please make me whole again, ‘m not sure what’s – what’s real.

And while you may hate Jin for kidnapping you, for occasionally breaking into your apartment while you’re asleep and watching you rest, for threatening others in your name, for keeping you safe and sound, you still can’t watch this. Somewhere buried inside the monster that stole you away is the Jin that you were friends with – and that’s the Jin you want to help, the one that’s driving you as you shove the paper bag down over his head, letting him engulf you in a nearly too-tight hug as he sobs and his shoulders shake.

It takes him a while to calm down, but as his grip grows tighter and he starts murmuring your name under his breath like a chant, he’ll slowly pull away, swallowing heavily and telling you that he loves you, that he needs you, that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And perhaps it’s Stockholm Syndrome, or perhaps you’ve simply gone crazy, but as time passes something about that sentiment will start becoming romantic to you, something that makes your heart race and gets your palms sweaty.

Because really, eventually you will end up playing out Jin’s fantasies – where the two of you are deeply in love, living together, sleeping together, bathing together, eating together, doing every possible thing in one another’s company because he simply can’t stomach the idea of being aware from you for any small amount of time.

It’s bliss, everything he’s ever dreamed of – and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get there, even if it means acting like your slave just to see you smile at him once a while and give him any scrap of positive affection you can muster.

Anything at all.

PUNISHMENTS:

As a general rule, Jin worships you. He finds you to be absolute perfection – you’re beautiful and caring and patient, everything wonderful and nearly too perfect to even be real. You’re certainly too perfect for a fuck-up like him – and yet he wants you, in such a primal and raw way that he can’t hope to fight it.

You’re like air to him, and because he’s grown so attached to your praise and presence in order for his mental health to stabilize for a few moments, Jin can’t stomach the thought of punishing you.

You’re supposed to be happy with him – you’re supposed to be growing to love him, something that he works hard at every day that he has you trapped with him. He gets you flowers (they’re a little wilted and old, but they’re the best he can find), little chocolates (never quite in the flavors and styles you like, but as close as he can get), and tries to keep you happy and placated by having all your favorite things in the apartment.

And so, even more than being upset that you attempted to escape or hurt yourself, Jin can’t really fathom why you’d even bother doing something worthy of a punishment in the first place – are his efforts not enough? Is it not enough for him to run himself ragged trying to think of ways to keep you happy, to show you that despite having kidnapped you, he’s not an entirely bad person?

It’s demoralizing and sends him spiraling into a state of panic and confusion, leading to particularly bad Splits that get him ripping at his hair and frantically grabbing for something, anything, to stop the episode in its tracks.

And so, punishments aren’t common at all – with a few hard exceptions that he does, with time, deem as worthy of his punishments.

(Harming yourself is a large one, as is attempting to harm Jin. Most other things are fair game, and things that he understands why you’d do. But once there’s the question of safety, Jin’s hairs are standing on edge, worry eating him alive because he absolutely cannot have you bleeding or in pain or any number of horrible things.)

You’ll never, ever be physically harmed while with him – the mere thought makes him anxious enough that he feels like he’ll hurl, the images of you bruised and battered flashing behind his eyes and making him feel on edge, anger boiling up in his chest because he absolutely will not stand for you to be harmed in any capacity, whether by another person or by himself.

And he doesn’t even really like to emotionally punish you – he’s not the best manipulator in the world, and something about purposefully warping your mind makes him feel dirty, a grimy feeling that makes his skin crawl and that he wants to avoid at all costs. But sometimes, certain infractions – especially towards the beginning of your captivity – have to be addressed, the bad behavior in you stomped out before it can really take root.

And so, Jin relies on other methods to get these points across – that is, he decides to show you just how good you have it with him by taking some of that good away.

He’ll revoke your dinner privilege for a night, or showering privileges for a few days.

He’ll forbid you from listening to music by removing all electronic players in the apartment, his phone hidden on his person (and yours having been long destroyed, even from before he laid your unconscious body out on your bed, marveling at the sight of you and oh-so-gently brushing a strand of hair out of your face).

It doesn’t feel good, you being even minorly uncomfortable in any way a difficult a difficult sight, but Jin pushes through, his personalities arguing audibly but all eventually agreeing that showing you exactly what you do have is the best method to go about making you as happy as you possibly can be with him.

Besides, there’s something inexplicably satisfying about the moment that you finally admit that you need him, that as much as you hate the hell he’s created by kidnapping you and keeping you all for himself, you must rely on him if you want to survive.

And Jin is smug – finally, you’re starting to see that he can be good, that he’s really not the monster you’ve cracked him out to be. And as soon as the punishment is over, Jin is back to the ever-loving, clingy mess that he always is, desperate to be around you and get your attention.

Jin’s hurt, more than anything, when you lunge at him and swing your fist like you’re trying to punch him.

He stops you easily, of course, but there’s something about the look in his eyes that has you shrinking back, shame withering through your body because god, how can he look so genuinely heartbroken, so genuinely betrayed?

It’s silent for a few moments as he holds your wrist in place, his mind too distracted to even focus on the feeling of physical touch that you initiated, even if the intention was less than ideal. His voice is small when he asks you what you’re doing, hurt lacing his words as he asks why are you trying to punch me? Are you mad at me? What did I do?

And in a different voice, though still somber are you on your period?

And although you have a few choice words to spit at him, all kinds of answers popping into your mind immediately, there’s just something about the way he’s slumped over, shoulders drooping and defeated, the downturn of his lips and the soulful look in his eye that have you unable to speak, the words simply not rolling off of your tongue.

Jin waits for a moment, expecting a barrage of hatred to spew from you, but nothing comes. And so, with careful fingers and slow movements, he slowly lets go of your hand, watching with careful eyes for your next move.

When you don’t swing at him again, Jin takes a step back, the action looking like it physically pains him.

It’s late, we should get to bed. It’s silent again for a moment, but then he moves towards the couch.

Listen, I don’t want to be the bad guy, but tonight you’ve gotta, uh, you’ve gotta sleep here tonight.

You look at him like he’s a little crazy, and he sends you a sorry glance, that same hurt written across his features.

You’ve gotta understand that I’m trying to do what’s best for you, I promise! I know kidnapping you was wrong, but you’re here now and we’ve gotta make the best of it.

God get over it already! It’s already been a month!

You watch with wide eyes as he grabs the blanket off of the back of the sofa, folding it over his arm and gesturing to the furniture.

Sleep here, you’ve gotta learn that hurting me isn’t okay, and neither is hurting yourself so don’t you try anything!

I’ll sleep with an eye open, you hear?

The night is long without the blanket, the apartment’s heating out again as you shiver against the material, using the mangy couch cushions as a makeshift blanket. It’s horrible, and you roll over with a sigh, sure that you’ll never manage to fall asleep in this position but fully knowing that Jin would wake up if you tried to join him in the warm bed. Shutting your eyes and sighing, you again try to drift into sleep – unaware of the way Jin lays in the bed, staring across the room at you with fully awake eyes.

Watching you struggle is torture; he wants more than anything to get up and come bundle you up in the blankets, the sound of your clattering teeth and shivering audible even from his position. But he can’t – not if he wants you to learn your lesson.

Not if he wants you to understand that you absolutely cannot be trying to instigate violence between the two of you – you’re supposed to be a loving couple, happy with one another and perfectly content to live out the rest of your days together.

A punch doesn’t exactly fit that happy dream that Jin has whipped up, and although he knows it’s far off in the future, he fully expects it to become reality one day – you’ve just got to stop fighting it so hard.

And as morning arrives and you both lie in your respective places, neither of you having slept a wink, Jin decides it was worth it. Because when you get out of bed, crawling over to him and asking with that fucking look on your face if you can use the blanket or get in with him, he’s crumbling.

You’ve never asked before – you’ve never used the word ‘please’ with him since being kidnapped, and here you were now, asking him for a favor, politely, sweetly, like you actually appreciate him.

All he can do is stare dumbly at you for a few seconds, but then he’s sputtering out a yes and scotting over, opening up the sheets to expose the beaten-up white tank top he’s sporter and the boxer shorts. Immediately you jump in, the sudden warmth feeling heavenly on your chilled bones, but Jin can only shudder, the feeling of your body so close to his driving him crazy, your smell engulfing his senses and he swears he can even taste you.

He’ll pull you close, experimentally, and when you don’t fight it he’ll let out a slow, long breath, letting his hand rest on your side lightly, almost as if he’s afraid to touch you.

Almost as if you’re not real – and by extension that this sort of fondness you seem to be developing for him isn’t real either. But God, he hopes it is.

OVERALL DANGER:

5/10

Jin is not particularly dangerous.

Mostly, he’s just incredibly and overwhelmingly needy. He’s so sure that he’s not worthy of you, that you’re much too good for him that it causes him to overcompensate, to try much too hard to get you to like him, to get you to want him.

He’s always texting you, running into you at seemingly random places and times, always talking your ear off and looking so genuinely enraptured and intrigued when you respond to him that it’ll make you a little uncomfortable, the intensity in his eyes a bit scary.

He sees you as being something genuinely divine, his idolization of you terrifying in its sheer degree. He spends every free moment trailing behind you, always living in your shadow, pretending with a dopey grin that he’s actually living out your life with you, that you’re somehow aware of him stalking you, that you actually want him to be involved in your day to day life.

(And he only feels a little pathetic about this – his love for you and his intense desire to be recognized by you too strong to bar him from having some dignity and stopping this disturbing obsession.)

He’s always trying to interact with you, becoming addicted to hearing your voice and feeling your attention on him, becoming addicted to the feeling of protecting you, of being needed. And when he eventually snaps and steals you away, Jin only becomes more needy, trying desperately to compensate for the fact that he’s kidnapped you by spoiling you with any gift he can, respecting your privacy and autonomy, trying to keep you as happy as possible given your situation.

And really, while you’ll hate him at first, betrayed beyond belief and scared of this strange new person that seems to have replaced the Jin you knew, eventually you’ll slowly come around. You’ll start to realize just how truly pathetic he is, how he can’t help himself but want you and your attention, and although you’ll hate yourself for it, some part of you will be flattered by how badly he wants you.

Some part of you will be pleased that someone desires you so much that they’ve become such a mess, that they want to please you badly enough that they’re willing to throw their pride out the window for you. You’ll feel guilty and like you’re betraying yourself, but really it’s in your best interest to not fight this new development – because really, while Jin may seem a little scatterbrained and easy to manipulate, he’ll find you if you escape.

And he’ll find you remarkably fast – and although he still won’t hurt you upon your reunion, you’ll come to find that Jin has treated you very, very well. And when that’s suddenly taken away, you’ll find yourself wishing that Jin – your Jin, the one that would steal the stars and sky for you – was back, that he was with you and telling you just how beautiful you are.

You’ll slowly learn that you need him just as badly as he needs you, now – a sentiment that makes Jin beam so brightly that it nearly hurts.

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere jin bubaigawara #yandere twice #_lee's profiles #_bnha #_jin bubaigawara #twice x reader #jin bubaigawara x reader

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manias-wordcount · 6 months

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Angel's Use (Hawks, Twice, Dabi, Mr. Compress, Spinner, Tomura Shigaraki)

Kinktober 2023 Day Thirty-One: (Dub-Con) Free Use

𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗦𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗲: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

“Twice…? Is she okay?”

You know…

“Angel-chan? She’s fine, she likes doing this. Little whore isn’t fully house-trained! Let’s teach a lesson!”

Hawks used to be one of your favorite heroes.

Hearing his voice asking if you were okay, it reminded you of that feeling. Of that little fondness you had for him. The fact that he was your age helped a lot. But it’s hard not to fall in love with someone that cute and charming. The deep pockets were a plus, and the fact that he was such a hard worker out in the field made you like him so easily. He saved lives, just like you did. And for a girl with a boring life and boring job, that was enough of a connection to get a crush going almost instantly after his debut all those years ago.

But right now? You can’t even look at him. But he looks at you. He’s been looking at you a lot.

And you can’t blame him. You really can’t.

You were declared dead a couple of months ago. That’s what Kurogiri told you. That you’re supposed to be a ghost. That you’re not supposed to exist anymore. A pretty little nurse with a powerful quirk goes missing one night. Only for an unidentifiable body to appear in the same place a couple of days later. With a case as strange as yours, heroes were bound to take notice. Bound to remember. And bound to call the authorities if you’re ever seen again. So they’ve always taken precautions when it came to you. Always made sure that you weren’t seen. Weren’t heard. Weren’t anything to anyone outside of the walls of the hideout.

So you’d like to think that that’s the reason why one of the best heroes in Japan is staring at you so intently. You’d like to think it’s because he recognizes you. Or that he’s trying to gauge what’s the best way to rescue you from this hell. You’d like to think that. But the truth is that it’s getting hard to think nowadays. It’s getting hard to use your head clearly. To parse through those muddled thoughts of yours. To move past all the tasks and distractions in front of you. And right now, you can feel his gaze on you. It’s strong and intense and so, so hard to ignore. Just like it’s hard to ignore the humiliation you can’t help but feel.

After all, it’s not like it’s every day that your only hope of rescue gets to see you lazily suck another man’s dick like some toy.

But you can’t help the feeling. Just like you can’t help the position. You try to block it out. You try to block it all out. But the farthest you manage to get is letting the words around you dull into nothingness. You’re still very aware of where you are. Of what you’re doing. Of who they are. No matter how hard you try to block it out, you still feel the cool, smooth feeling of leather against your bare, heated as you lay on your stomach with your head in Twice’s lap. You still feel the rumble of the man’s heartbeat and breath, and he speaks to Hawks without so much of a care for your existence. You still feel the openness- the vulnerable feeling of being laid out on the couch of the common room like some toy. Lips wrapped around a dick and tongue flickering up against it as people all around you go about their lives. As if you aren’t there. As if you were meant to be there.

Above you, Twice’s chest rumbles, as if he was told a good joke. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Hawk’s golden-eyed gaze turned to you. Expression concerned, but masked fairly well. But you don’t look at it for long. Instead, you find yourself squeezing your eyes shut and bobbing your head down to take a more active role and pleasuring one of your captors.

Twice’s deep-chested laugh turns into a moan, and one of his hands comes to rest in your hair. A grip so gentle. A touch so sweet. You could have forgotten that he was a villain. For just a moment. For just a minute. For just a second. But you didn’t.

Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut a little tighter. Maybe if you try to deep-throat him right now, no one will know just where exactly your tears are coming from. Maybe if you bury your face even lower in Twice’s lap, Hawks will stop looking at you. Maybe he’ll even forget you. Maybe you’ll forget you too. But you don’t. You can’t.

“Get Angel’s attention.”

The world hates you far too much for you to receive your peace.

“I want my turn.” The familiar sound of Dabi’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. All of a sudden, everything that felt dull and far away felt closer. Louder. Clearer. You become hyperaware of your surroundings. Of the salty taste in your mouth. Of the TV playing the twenty-four-hour news cycle playing quietly. Of the palms that are so rough and so hot they burn coming to grab at your waist and easing you into lifting up your hips. At that, your fight or flight kicks in. You breathe labors, and before you know it, you’re pulling your mouth off of Twice’s dick to look behind you. You can hear the man’s two-sided comments. The gentle side of him’s disappointed sigh. And his other side calling you a whore. But right now? “You don’t mind if I come through the back door, don’t you, Angel?”

There’s something bigger and scarier than Twice happening behind you.

You can’t help the fear that overtakes you in that moment. The whimper that leaks through your throat as your hands ball up into fists and your bottom lip quivers. The look Dabi is giving you behind his messy dark hair- it isn’t unfamiliar. You’ve seen that same emotion in those pretty blue eyes of his. You’ve seen it since the first day you met him. But now you’re not as stupid. You’re not as naive. And you’re much more willing to scoot back and get on your knees and relax. Well, try to relax. There’s oh but so much you can do when you’re telling yourself that you have to sit face down, ass up for a serial murderer and pyromaniac. All to live. All to live.

Out of the corner of vision again, you notice Hawks. His feathers have ruffled. Ever so slightly- an action almost too quick to catch. But you noticed it. And Dabi did too. Because a second later he’s laughing. And a second later, you’re turning your head away from him. From both of them. Your gaze falls back in front of you. At Twice’s cock, sitting angry and red and wet, and messy and forgotten as it rest on the man’s abdomen. Leaking a pearly trail of precum onto his stomach. You already miss it. He’s only a couple inches away and you already miss him. Because even if he’s like the rest of the men in this hideout who use your body so freely for their own desires, at least Twice is gentle with you. At least he’s kind to you.

But as the sound of a zipper hits your ears, and something thick and hard and just way too big starts prodding at your anus, you know that there’s no saving you today. No going back to just laying naked on the couch and warming someone’s cock. No going back to hoping you won’t be perceived by the golden boy hero who only recently turned to the dark side. There’s only your pain. There’s only someone else’s pleasure. Taking from you. Tainting you. Torturing you.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart.”

Until it’s someone else’s turn.

“You’re still so tight back here, hmm?” You hear Dabi rumble from behind you. Voice low and sultry as his hands pull you closer and closer to him as your body swallows inch after inch with loud cries. The stretch- it burns. More than the heat from his scarred, scarred hands. From the fire alight in his eyes every single time he looks at you. More than anything in the world. And this stretch- this sudden fullness fills you up from behind like an invasive species taking over what was never theirs in the first place- it tugs at you from the pits of your stomach. It screams for attention. It begs for your tears. For your embarrassment to grow. And you can’t ignore this feeling. You can’t ignore this pain. They may have broken you to be their toy, but angels can’t be killed so easily. “Spinner was back here less than a week ago, and yet I can just barely fit. Perfect little whore.”

No matter how many times you wish for death.

“Hey!”

At the call of his name, Spinner responds from somewhere else in the bar. You hear his footsteps, heavy and hard pad over to where the couch is. But you can’t see him as he starts bickering with Dabi. You’re far too busy breathing out deeply. Whining and wriggling and whimpering oh-so-loudly as Dabi bottoms out inside of your ass. Now, all you can think about is the pan and how it heightens every sensation around you. How it turns your mind into mush and brings the heat to your cheeks as you wish for nothing more for it to be over. For you to disappear between the couch cushions. So much so that you barely even notice the hand reach out and brushing its fingers against yours.

But you do notice. And you know it belongs to Twice. Offering the smallest amount of comfort possible to you. But it’s something you can’t appreciate. Something you can’t even savor. Because before you know it, Dabi’s moving his hands off your hips and wrapping them around your waist. In one fell swoop, you’re being flipped. Your position changes. And somehow the dick in your ass manages to bury itself even further inside of you. And oh, how you cry out. Oh, how you thrash. But Dabi’s got you locked in his lap now as he lays back against the couch. He’s got your legs spread nice and wide with your pretty, little pussy on display and his cock plugging up your other hole. He’s got his head buried in your neck, and the scent of ash and smoke surrounding him. Clinging to him. Tighter than the death grip he has locked around your waist. Tighter than the leash that all of them have on you.

“At least I used lube,” Spinner starts to brag, voice proud and tone haughty. As if it’s some type of accomplishment. From this new position, you’re able to eye Spinner a little better. You’re able to see everyone and everything a little better. Compared to having your face pressed into the couch. But you don’t want to see any of them. You don’t want to think of any of them. You don’t. You just don’t. “Angel-chan like it when I use her ass because I’m gentle with her. Isn’t that right, Angel-chan?”

You can’t help it. You shake your head no at Spinner’s words. Wildly, with a few whimpers here and there as your body continues to struggle against the iron-like grip Dabi has on you. But he’s too busy laughing at your complete and utter rejection. Too busy laughing at you.

“You really think a girl like her would enjoy being impaled by those monstrous things?“ A new voice enters the fray. And despite the fact that your brain is getting a little fuzzier and fuzzier as Dabi ultimately allows you to adjust to his size, you’re able to turn a half-lidded gaze to another part of the room to watch Mr. Compress approach you. With the mask on, it’s hard to tell where he’s looking. Or what he’s thinking. But for a second, you swear you manage to catch sight of a bulge from his pants. And you promise you’re that you’re not dreaming when you say that his gaze must have been watching the rise and fall of your chest so, so carefully. Taking in the slight jiggle of your boobs. The way your lips part. The way your expression clouds more and more. The way pain is starting to melt away into pleasure. “Perhaps you don’t remember her screams. I’m sure our neighbor do.”

Spinner starts getting offended at that. He shoots off a few choice words at Mr. Compress. But it’s Dabi who fires back at him. Making a big show of whatever he said by accenting with a roll of his hips. One that causes you to arch your bag and cry out- nearly fighting out of his grip. But those warm hands of his spread across your stomach. Holding you in place. Forcing you to do nothing but watch as others watch you. So that’s what you do.

First, your gaze falls back on Twice’s. He’s still in the same position you left him. Still harder than ever to read with that mask on his face. But now his head is tilted in the direction that makes his direct line of sight where you and Dabi’s bodies are joined. And his hand- the one that you guessed was previously reaching out to you? It’s now wrapped around his cock. Stroking at it lazily. Getting off to the mere sight of you. It makes your embarrassment grow even more. It makes your blood boil even hotter. At the end of the day, you can’t be stupid. At the end of the day, you have to remember that he’s just another man. That he’s just another one of your captors. Just another one who will likely be slipping his dick inside of one of your holes again in a couple of days. Maybe even a couple of hours.

But then your mind starts to wander. And your eyes start to too. And suddenly your gaze is on one of Japan’s top heroes. And it’s like all the words and noise and things around you start to fade away. Because Hawks is looking at you too. He’s watching you carefully. Drinking you in slowly. And you start to have hope that the emotion in his eyes is anger. That it’s outrage. At the sight of these men speaking about you and your body so freely. So easily. And it starts to make you hope. That your old favorite hero will live up to your beliefs. That your old favorite hero will rise from the ashes and the darkness. And that he’ll save you.

So you ask him for that. You look into his face and you think not about how handsome he is. You look into his face and think not about how warm and comforting his voice is. You just look into his face- you look into his bright, golden eyes and you ask him. You beg him to save you. To be the one who returns you to light. Who saves you from this hell. To save you from them. But then the unthinkable happens. The unexpected. The impossible.

Your hero. Your supposed savior- he looks away.

And for a second, you think you see it in his eyes. You think you see it. The guilt. But even more than that? The arousal. And the growing tent in his pants that’s almost impossible for you to ignore. Impossible for you to imagine. So you don’t ignore it. You internalize it. You think about it. You think about what his arousal means. You think about his refusal to move- to lift a finger, a feather in your direction.

You think about the way he can’t even look at you right now too.

And the tears that you were previously shedding? They start to come out a little faster than before. It’s okay though. You let them. For your sake. For your pain.

But a moment later, your view of Hawks is being disrupted. And you don’t put up much of a fight. You can’t put up much of a fight. You won’t. Because the feeling of being failed by the one person who could have saved you has already started to set in. And there’s already someone else- there’s already Mr. Compress tilting your head in another direction, putting two fingers out and telling you to “Suck, sweetheart”, as Spinner grabs a fist full of your hair and holds it up in a ponytail for you. Now, Dabi’s hards are reaching down your body. No longer holding you possessively. Instead, giving out a chance to share as he takes two fingers and parts your lower lips to give the person now standing in front of you an easier chance to slide into your awaiting little pussy. Eager as can be.

All these eyes are on you. All these hands on you. Giving you attention. Giving you pleasure. Giving you pain. Every now and then your eyes will slide to someone’s face. To read their expression. To read their bodies as they enjoy yours. Yet every single time, you’re met with the same dazed expressions. The same lust-filled eyes. The same devious smiles. Taking ownership of your body. Taking your body. Everywhere you look. Everywhere you turn. And somehow, it gets easier. It gets easier to pretend that you like it. It gets easier to tolerate. It gets easier to survive. To zone it all out. To take it all in. To moan the way they like it. To cry the way they want you to. To take it like a good girl. Like the angel you are to them.

And now, with Tomura standing in front of you, lining up his cock and pushing inside of your warm, wet pussy- reserved just for him, you swear that the feeling from before has gotten easier. In between his distracting words of praise and calls of your nickname. In between your moans and groans and gasps and whimpers and cries of pain. Of pleasure. You swear that little by little it’s gotten easier. That the stretch is more bearable. That the pain has lessened. That the tears have dried.

“Good Angel-chan,” Tomura murmurs at you while sinking himself inside you with a lewd, lewd groan of his own. You hiccup on the fingers you’re sucking on, but your body responds accordingly. It responds as it was trained to do. “Angel-pussy is the best. And it’s all mine.”

It’s the only way you can survive after all.

But try as you might, you don’t think it’ll ever go away. You don’t think it’ll ever fade either. Because he knows as much as you know. That while you’d expect it from monsters like them…

… it’s impossible to forget that even now, Hawks is using you too.

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fuwushiguro · 1 year

Text

Let’s Go Little Kitty Cat

Tomura Shigaraki x Touya Todoroki x Twice x f!reader

Genre: Smut Notes: this was meant to be exclusive to patreon but they made me delete it lmao enjoy!! Warnings: 18+, dubcon, hybrid!au, kitty girl!reader, heat, gang bang, step-cest, name-calling, dacryphillia, blowjobs, clit rubbing, pet names, vaginal sex, tit-sucking, spitting, double penetration (one hole), throat-fucking, hair pulling, noncon filming, creampie & oral creampie ♡ Words: 2.8k

The tension between your thighs is unbearable. It’s close to agonising. A burning desire that can only be alleviated by someone willing. Your stepbrother is tired of you. You know he is; and yet you can’t seem to be able to help yourself. He has friends over. You can hear them all talking. Playing videos games and screaming at the TV.

“Tomu…” you flutter your eyelashes. Though he doesn’t hear you. He doesn’t even see you since you’re shyly hiding behind the door to his bedroom.

All you can hear is laughter and teasing. Touya making fun of Jin’s lack of gaming skills and Tomura laughing at his expense. If only you weren’t so bashful.

The lustrous want is growing stronger.

And soon, you don’t feel so shy.

You don’t even knock. Instead, you barge in and stand directly beside the TV which you can now see is displaying Super Smash Bros. They all look at you, momentarily, before focusing back on the TV. Standing next to it was a good call. You’re sure if you’d stood in front of it that your brother might have cause to kill you.

“What?” he asks, rudely, mashing buttons on his controller. You do nothing but twiddle your thumbs and a slew of ‘ums’ mumble out from between your lips. “What is it, brat?” he sighs. And you gulp, swallowing thickly and screwing your eyes closed. You turn your back to him; falling to your knees. You place your hands on the ground and raise your behind up at him. Your slinky black tail standing upright and revealing your pretty lace panties underneath your skirt.

“Tomur—”

“For fuck sake.” he mutters, kicking you lightly with his sneaker clad foot so that your body falls onto the floor. You sniffle, wiping your nose and fighting to hold back tears from the embarrassment of it all. It doesn’t work. “I’m busy.” he tells you, bluntly, focusing his attention back to the TV.

“S’wrong with her?” Touya wonders. He watches as you get back on all fours, clearly not humiliated enough as you try to entice your brother to take care of you as he always does.

“Slut’s in heat.” he responds. He exhales, defeated, pausing the TV to show his friends what a pathetic whore you are. He grips your tail with his fist, keeping it in place. His free hand is used to prod your panties and tease your folds.

All three men revel in how soaked you are. Your panties positively drenched.

“Tomura… please.” you sob.

“No.” he speaks. “I already fucked you this morning and in the middle of the night. I’m bored of you. Go away.”

“But—”

“I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.” Jin tells you, sticking his tongue through his teeth as his brows furrow and focus on his game. You can’t tell whether he’s joking or not. From Tomura’s lack of response, you think he’s just teasing.

You opt to ignore him. Turning to Tomura with watery eyes, though he pays you no mind. It’s getting worse. And you are growing even more desperate. You shuffle closer to him on your knees, resting your hands on his thighs. He looks down at you, his vision alternating quickly between his game and you.

“Behave.” he warns you.

But you don’t.

You carry on smoothing your hands up his thighs.

And suddenly, he’s winning the game. Touya and Jin can’t tear their gaze away from you. From what you’re doing to your brother. You unbutton his jeans and slide down the zip. He doesn’t stop you, either, which makes you think he wants you just as much as you want him.

He helps you pull down his jeans and underwear slightly, just enough for his cock to be released. He’s only semi hard, but you know a few kitten licks to his slit and a couple of pumps of your wrist will have him standing to attention.

You lap at his cockhead. His tip leaking and you consuming every little pearl of cum on your sensitive tastebuds. He is still focused on the game, starting a new round as his friends are enamoured by the sight of you licking his cock. They manage to concentrate on the TV for all of five seconds when you begin to take your brother down your throat.

“Unmf.” Tomura winces a little, your soft humming and accommodating throat getting the better of him. “You’re such a brat.” he comments. You giggle, but you don’t abandon your task. He doesn’t want you to stop; but in the same breath he doesn’t want to seem weak in front of his friends. He pushes your head off of his length and pulls you onto the bed beside him.

“Ouch…” you complain, massaging your wrist where he pulled you. “Why did you—”

Before you can finish, he’s holding your waist and pulling you onto his lap, moving your panties to the side and lining his cock up with your hole. You’re so flustered. Your hairline is damp, and your eyes might as well be dotted with hearts. Your tongue is lolling out of your mouth as he guides you down onto his length.

“T-Thank you.” you gasp as you try to ride him. But your attempt is thwarted, his hands grip your waist like a vice to keep you still.

“Sit still. Don’t move.” he commands. “Think you can just do what you want? Hm? Think you’re gonna come in here and flash your cunt and you’ll get what you want?”

“I—”

“The word you’re looking for is no.”

You whimper, slightly, but do your best to sit still. But it’s too fucking hard. He’s inside of you, now, he may as well just fuck you. He’s torturing you for no reason. Your heart rate is through the roof, and you start to grind against him.

His arm hooks around your body until his hand encases your neck.

“No.”

You sigh, allowing the tears resting in your lash line to spill down your cheeks. Jin reaches over to you, thick fingers scratching behind your ears and making them twitch excitedly. You look at him, and smile.

And Jin Bubaigawara is a weak man. He never has been able to resist a pretty face. He puts his Switch controller to one side and stands to his feet.

“Why are we playing a fucking game when we can be fucking your little sister?” Jin wonders. He almost sounds agitated that he even needs to ask. Touya sighs, laughing. Relieved that he got the necessary conversation in motion.

“C’mere, babe.” Touya demands, his finger performing a come hither motion while he pats his lap. And you want to. God you fucking want to. But you aren’t so sure. And you know Tomura won’t like it. He shuffles on the bed closer to Tomura, reaching over to the hot spot at the apex of your thighs and moving your panties further into the crease of your thigh. He prods your clit a few times with his finger before he swipes over it, softly. Your face contorts, and once again, you can’t help but begin to grind against Tomura. “Mmm, she likes it.” he grins.

“Get off.” Tomura cautions his friend, once again stopping you from moving. There’s no real malice or aggression to his order. Just another show of dominance.

“Shut up.” Touya responds. “How can you deny such a pretty girl the opportunity to cum? She just wants some cock, don’tcha, doll?” he continues. You nod, hurriedly, hoping the conversation will be enough to bring Tomura around.

“Fine. Take her.” Tomura nods, pushing you over to Touya.

Touya lets you straddle him. He holds the crown of your head so that he can keep you in place while he makes out with you. It’s slow, nasty and with so much tongue. He giggles at the way you moan for him. And he thinks it’s so adorable how you can’t help but rut your pussy against his rough jeans, making such a sticky mess of the denim material.

He holds an arm around your waist and flips you onto your back; still kissing you all the while. Touya is completely manhandling you. Spreading your legs open wide and flipping your skirt upwards. He takes your panties in two fists and rips them apart with a sharp tearing sound. And even that makes you moan.

“What a little whore you are,” he chuckles darkly, “I love this wet little cunt, don’t need to waste time stretching you out with my fingers first.”

You look at him with rose tinted glasses. Despite his crude words and abusive language; you can’t help but lust after him. He’s giving you what you want, after all. You observe him as he unbuckles his belt as fast as he can. His cock jumps out as soon as he pulls down his jeans and underwear just below his ass. He shoves himself into your warm walls all of the way to the hilt, almost cumming at the sound of you flinching from the impact.

“So gorgeous when you cry.” he laughs, starting to hump his length inside of your welcoming walls.

Tomura notices your distress. And as mean as he can be, he’s also incredibly sweet to you at times. And he’s very protective. He kneels close to your head, bending down to kiss you kindly. His tongue massaging against yours instantly puts you at ease.

Jin begins to feel left out. He shuffles towards you, too. He rips apart your crop top to reveal your bare breasts. Completely exposed to all three men in the room. He jiggles one in his hand for a moment. And then he lies down on his stomach. He latches his lips around your raised nipple. Suckling sweetly and carefully. Soft and gentle bites against it rush straight to your cunt. Your hips bucking while Touya continues to thrust inside of you.

Touya keeps your legs apart. They’re as wide as they can be. He presses one against the mattress and another up to your chest, using both to his advantage to fuck you harder.

Jin’s free hand slithers down your stomach until two thick fingers are toying with your clit. The sensation forces you to pull away from Tomura, not being able to focus enough on any one thing with your senses so overwhelmed.

“O-Oh fuck!” you yell. Tomura’s hand takes a firm grip of your jaw.

“Open up, slut.” he orders. You open your mouth wide. You flinch when he spits directly into your mouth. “You are a disgusting little whore with a filthy mouth.” he tells you. Your lip begins to wobble, upset by his words. But still, you find yourself desperate for his kiss.

“Naughty little whores don’t get kisses.” Touya grunts, only just managing to speak through his impending high.

“No, they don’t.” Tomura agrees. He guides his cock to your lips, smearing them in his pre cum. “I don’t want my cock sucked, baby. I want to fuck your throat.” he warns you. He presses his hand into the side of your face; keeping it trapped against the mattress.

“Mmpf!!” you gasp as he forces himself into your mouth. You can barely breathe, doing your best to remember to breathe through your nose as you feel him brutalising your throat. You begin to cry, unable to stop yourself or keep the tears from flowing.

“Why are you crying? You were the one begging for cock. Begging for cum. Look where it got you, you’ve tripled your profit.” Tomura cackles. He spits down harshly onto your cheek to further make his point.

“Ohhh, she’s so tight. So fucking tight. Are you gonna cum? Yeah… pretty girl’s gonna cum.” Touya muses, knowing if you clench any harder he won’t be far after you. “Gonna cum in this cunt, babe. Jus’ like you want.” he informs you.

You’re unravelling around him the harder he pounds, and you feel your body turn cold in contrast to the warm gooey substance flooding your insides. Jin releases your nipple as he observes the way your body spasms from your orgasm. Tomura pulls out before your vibrating throat full of wanton moans makes him cum.

Touya collapses on the bed beside you, the pair of you panting as you recover from your orgasms. Touya is allowed to rest.

You aren’t.

Jin drags you towards him, as he stands on his knees. He kisses you slowly, wanting to offer you some form of reprieve. He rolls your left nipple between his fingers as he tongues the inside of your mouth. It all feels so romantic despite what is actually happening. He leads his cock into you, holding your body close to his as you begin to ride him. He keeps a firm grip as he lets his body fall backwards. His shoulder blades against the mattress and allowing you to be on top of him. You moan, softly, into his mouth as you use him to fuck yourself.

“Take a deep breath.” he whispers. You pull away. Your confusion is evident even on your sleepy face. He kisses you and you kiss him back; not knowing it’s a distraction.

Tomura forces himself inside of your pussy and you can’t help but scream. Jin is huge. It was already a heavy feat in itself. But taking your brother’s thick cock in your cunt as well is a task too much.

“Ah! Tomura—!” you gasp.

“Shut up.” he spits, cruelly. “You wanted this. You’re getting what you asked for.”

“Hurts! Tomu… s-stop, s’really hurting m-me!” you explain.

“Touya, shut her up.”

You look over to Touya, he’s stroking his cock casually on the bed as he watches you get fucked by these two monstrous cocks. But at the request of his friend, he stands to his feet, walking around the bed until he’s standing directly in front of you. Lording above you.

It’s menacing.

“No teeth, doll, or I’ll really give you something to cry about.” he instructs you with an ominous warning.

You brace yourself, knowing what’s coming. He slots himself inside of your mouth and begins to hump inside of it. His refractory period is more than impressive. It’s fucking inhuman. He grasps a fistful of your hair, forcing you onto him so that he can fuck himself with your throat.

All the while, Jin and Tomura’s thrusts are matching. They’re tearing you in two and abusing your sweet spot all in one tantalising bout. You are all over the place. Too many sensations overcoming you at once. Jin returns to sweetly suckling on your nipples, expertly alternating between the two and still having enough focus to fuck you so perfectly.

“F-Fuck, take it you little bitch.” Tomura commands, his load spurting inside of your hole and accompanying Touya’s. Jin follows shortly after, his moans stimulating your tits even further as he refuses to release them from between his lips.

You tap frantically on Touya’s thighs, desperate for air. He grants your wish. For only a second. And then, he gives one last devastating thrust into your mouth, cumming inside. He continues to hold your mouth hostage with his length, forcing you to look him in the eye as he speaks.

“Do not swallow. Leave your fucking mouth open when I pull out.” he instructs.

All three men slowly retract their cocks from your body. Touya’s fingers are still interweaved in your hair. You can’t stop panting. You’re so sticky and overwhelmed. Your chin and lips are dripping with sperm, and you have an awful feeling that there’s more in store for you.

Alas, you’re wrong.

Touya pulls your hair back so that your head falls into Tomura’s pillows. You close your legs, trying your best to keep the obscene amount of cum inside. Tomura shakes his head, that isn’t allowed. Jin carefully opens them up for you, light pats against the inside of your knees are enough to do the trick.

“Look what a mess we made of her.” Jin grins, smoothing your hair out of your face.

“Your little sister is a dirty cum slut, isn’t that right baby?” Touya laughs, pulling out his phone as he films his combined handiwork with his friends. He takes a few pictures alongside it, too. “She’s leaking from every slutty hole.”

“Not every hole. Nobody went in her asshole, but there’s always next time.” Tomura speaks. “You hear that? Next time you stick your ass in my face I’m gonna fuck it.”

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #league of villains x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #jin bubaigawara x reader #hybrid au #tw dubcon #tw stepcest #tw name calling #tw dacryphilia #tw spit #tw hair pulling #tw noncon filming

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mossy-opal · 5 months

Text

Jin Sandwich

Jin Bubaigawara x Reader

Trigger Warnings: Smut. The title is self explanatory- IT'S SHORT

It was his idea to begin with, and who are you to deny him what he wants? Besides, it was a good idea after all. All he needed to do was have confidence in himself, while he watched you two kiss.

After all, it's not as if it's someone else kissing you, groping you, making you moan. Well, technically it's not someone else.

It's still him, just a clone.

So while he watched himself grind on you, his scruffy face red with blush while his shaky hands grabbed your ass, holding you closer to him.

This was a great idea, Jin thought to himself while he moved towards you and his clone, making himself comfortable behind you. Soon, you were on your hands and knees, Jin thrusting into you with a bruising grip on your hips. Your moans and whines were drowned out by his own, that and the cock shoved down your throat. His clone had your head in his hand, his hips thrusting every so often, his shaking even worse while he felt himself get closer to that euphoria- Was this really happening? How was- This is all so much to- Oh god!

Jins eyes widened while his clone grit his teeth and cried in ecstasy, before it fell apart and melted. You started coughing, unable to swallow the muck that appeared in your mouth. Jin immediately pulled out of you and put himself away to fret about you, before you laughed, still coughing. He laughed as well, the mood being long gone while you two laughed hysterically with each other.

Well, Jin learned something new about his clones.

No Tags, I couldn't be asked.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #jin bubaigawara #jin bubaigawara x reader #twice mha #jin mha #twice x reader #jin x reader #jin smut #twice smut #sorta three way #short read #it's more like a blurb than anything lmao

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doumadono · 3 months

Note

mmm emergency request

take as long as you need to answer!! or if this is too triggering, no need to answer at all!!

tw for mention of childhood m*lestation

so recently (couple of weeks ago) i found out that my dad’s friend/girlfriend kind of knows the guy who m*lested me as a kid…

she knows everything that happened and knows how difficult it was for me to heal from. now finding out that she knows him— it set me back and i distanced myself from her.

a bit ago she called me, telling me that i should forgive him for what he did to me… and it went into a whole thing and now i’m trying not to cry while writing this lol

but anyways

it set me back really far and all of my progress is gone so i was just hoping for some comfort??

like twice or dabi comforting their gf/s.o. through this and helping them try to heal again.

maybe even twice or dabi getting a bit of revenge on the two people lol /j

sorry if this doesn’t make sense i’m just a bit out of it

- twice & dabi anon

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Twice

Twice is initially shocked and angered when he learns about your troubled past and the person responsible for your pain.

He lets out a string of curses directed at the one who caused you harm, showing a protective side that you hadn't seen before.

Immediately, Twice pulls you into a comforting embrace.

"I might be a bit crazy, but I'm crazy about you. We'll get through this together, I'll never let you face it all alone."

After learning more about the person who hurt you, Twice puts together a plan for justice. "Nobody messes with my girl and gets away with it."

He ensures you have the support you need, encouraging you to take good care of yourself and promising to be there for every step of your healing journey.

As you try to hold back tears, Twice pulls a playful expression, "And if you need someone punched, I got a clone for that too. Or ten."

Twice is genuine, realizing that some battles require a team effort, and mental health is no exception.

Later, you discover Jin had discreetly gathered information to ensure the person responsible faced the consequences.

Twice, without a moment's hesitation, serves justice to the person who has caused you harm.

One day, accidentally overhearing him in conversation with Toga, you catch her asking for "the blood of his new friend." The request surprises you, but you eventually shrug it off.

The next day, Twice seeks you out and declares that the case is concluded, justice served.

When you express a desire to learn more, he simply smiles at you, smoothly shifting the topic, leaving the details in the shadows of his actions. "Don't worry, little mousie, Twice did his best to make sure they won't hurt you ever again."

Dabi

Dabi listens silently as you open up about your troubled past. His eyes, however, betray a mix of anger and concern.

"No one should go through that. I'll make sure they pay for what they did to you, princess."

Dabi, in his understated way, offers a warm touch, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Don't think about that anymore. Let me take care of everything."

Dabi, true to his straightforward nature, ensures justice is served.

As you express your fear of encountering your past abuser, Dabi assures you, "I won't let them get away with it, don't ya worry your pretty, little head, princess."

Dabi, true to his character, never utters empty promises. Swiftly acquiring information about the person's name and address, he becomes a rare sight within the League of Villains' hideout for the next few days. Unbeknownst to you, he meticulously stalks every move of the individual, methodically transforming their life into a nightmare.

Days pass, and news reports flood the airwaves. Resting your head on Dabi's shoulder while watching the news, you hear of a house engulfed in flames, with a person unable to escape the inferno. The police chalk it up to a gas leak, citing eyewitnesses who observed the flames as an eerie shade of blue.

Your eyes widen, and you glance at Dabi, seeking confirmation. "Dabi..."

He, however, responds by gently placing his index finger to your lips, silencing any questions. "I promised you something, and I'm a man of my word, yeah?"

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lvrrocks · 1 year

Text

what the hell . l.o.v

💻 where the lov find you’ve been caught by a hero , and are forced to lead them to the lov’s base

👤 himiko toga , touya todoroki / dabi , tomura shigaraki / tenko shimura , mr. compress / atsuhiro sako , twice / jin bubaigawara x f!reader ( all separate )

📍kinda upset characters :(, the villains are slightly ooc (especially Twice and Shigaraki. I don’t write for/read much about them)

• • • •

himiko toga

Is definitely taken aback. Like how could this happen? How could her love lead her worst enemy here?

Isn’t mad at you, just weirdly confused

“Sweetie, what’s EraserHead doing here?!”

She knows you didn’t mean to, and she can prove it from the guilty and sad look on your face, as well as the strong grip Aizawa has on you

Soon, the fight breaks out, and all you can do is just hide in another room and wait for it all to be over.

About an hour passes and it’s finally ended, but Himiko has to grab you and run with you fast to your guy’s new hideout, away from EraserHead

As soon as you settle, you break down

“Hey, sweetie, it’s okay!” your lover tried calming you, softly squeezing your arms, “I know you didn’t mean to! Meanie EraserHead did this!”

You can’t help but cry harder at her sweetness. You held all the blame on yourself. You’d risked going out, knowing a hero could identify you as part of the LOV. And sure enough, EraserHead was the one who’d nabbed you, and forced you to your hideout. “But..” you’d barely gotten out through broken sobs, “I led him there! He got there because of me! I was so wreckless- and- I-I-“

She then grabbed you, pulling you in for one of her best hugs. Her clothes smelled like blood, but that wasn’t anything new. You’d gotten used to the metallic smell she’d had on her since you first came across her in that abandoned alley. You wrapped your vaguely bruised arms around her, sobbing into her chest as she pet your hair. “Sweetie..” she cooed, kissing your head all over, “it’s ok..! I don’t blame you, and- I’m pretty sure- the rest of the LOV don’t blame you either. So don’t worry you’re pretty little head!”

You looked up at her, seeing her adorable, fang-y smile that led all the way up to her blood red orbs. It made you smile a bit through your tears, which Himiko wiped away with her thumb. “See,” she said, growing happier at your smile, “you’re okay! You’re even smiling! So cute!”

You were content after that, mostly after her constant reassurances, and even some members of the LOV trying to calm you down.

• •

dabi / touya

He wasn’t.. mad. Not mad. Just.

Just- bewildered

He just stared for a second at your shaking figure, and the bunny-eared hero that’s got an arm around your neck

Soon, he was one of the first to yell. Well, not really yell, as he was talking to you, but he spoke like he was definitely irritated.

“Y/n, come here.”

A lil nervous, you wiggled out of Mirko’s grasp, and jogged to your lover. You could see the vague frustration in his scarred face.

Soon enough, the fight broke out, leading to your warehouse-like hideout to be broken down, and while some of the other members of the LOV fought the hero, you, Dabi, and a couple others fled to somewhere new.

You’d be worried about if the other members would find your location, but Dabi simply stated he’d keep in touch with the others.

Dabi sat you down, his blue orbs staring into your own

“So. What happened?” He sat across from you on the grassy floor of the abandoned building.

You started tearing up, but you didn’t want him to think you were weak, so you held the heels of your hands to your eyes. You feel warm, rough hands against your wrists, and he pulls your hands down.

“Look at me when you’re talking to me, mouse.” he demanded softly, still staring into your eyes.

You sighed. You knew it wasn’t really your fault, you didn’t mean to have Mirko follow you to your hideout. You didn’t mean to make everybody move again.

You never mean too. But it happens.

“Well, uh, I was out getting things and Mirko recognized me, and she knew I was with you guys, so she practically death gripped me, and made me tell her where you were and.. I didn’t wanna get my ass kicked by her.”

He let out a deep sigh. A couple moments passed before he moved to sit beside you, grasping your hand. “Mouse,” he squeezed your hand, “I’ll tell you this right now. It wasn’t your fault. But, I’ll give you a better option when you go out. How about I buy you a new hoodie, and you start wearing a mask, hm? Don’t want you unintentionally risking our safety again.”

“Sorry..” you shied away from his stare, but he grabbed you right back, holding your chin.

“Hey. Don’t shy away from me.” he squeezed your chin, “let’s go somewhere else, mouse.”

• •

tomura / tenko

As the leader of the LOV, and pure hater of all heroes, he’s definitely pissed

Not necessarily at you, but at the woody hero who had you wrapped in his branches.

Between the grip Kamui Woods had on you and the severe death glare Tomura shot him, there was enough tension that you could cut it with one of Toga’s blades.

Tomura got up immediately, storming up to the hero, and the battle commenced quickly.

You ended up being wounded during the fight, a bigger cut on your leg.

Later, Tomura had ended up getting away.

And that’s when he noticed your cut.

“Y-.. y/n..?” he spoke quietly at the sight of your bloodied leg. You winced trying to shift to look at him. “Oh.. ohh.. oh my god..”

He rushed towards you, getting on his knees kneeling next to you. “Holy shit.” Was all he spoke before he yelled at some other member to get a med kit.

As soon as they’d arrived, Tomura shuffled to get his protective gloves on, and he made quick work in getting you patched up. “Damnit.” he mumbled.

“Damnit.” He seemed so… upset. And not in a way you were used to.

Sometimes it was little bursts of frustrations (usually caused by hero news or something), or him yelling at the other members because they fucked something up.

This time he sounded so.. hurt. Like, genuinely hurt.

It made you tear up. He took notice quick.

“Babe..? Oh god what now? What did I do?” He seemed so worried.

“It- it’s nothing, just.. my leg hurts.” you were a terrible liar. He saw right through you, placing a gloved hand on your uninjured thigh.

“You’re an awful liar,” he said, “now, I’ll ask nicely since you just love me being so nice to you.”

He sighed, brushing his hair back a bit. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

You blushed at the nickname, knowing perfectly well how it affected you. You gave in. You had to. “Well.. seeing you so upset, and not in the way I’m used to, it.. made me sad.”

His face softened ever so slightly. Even under all that scratchy exterior, you could tell when he was showing genuine emotion. “Babe, I’m upset because you got hurt. That stupid hero brought you here against your will, and of course I have to deal with it, but all that caused you to hurt yourself. Stupid fucking heroes. Always thinking they’re doing good when they’ve only brought harm upon some innocent people. You didn’t do anything. And he just snatched you up like some treasure map, leading him to the little x-marks-the-spot.”

You shakily sighed, and threw your arms around him. Which, in hindsight was a bad idea, because you winced at the pain in your thigh. He tried his best you hold you. You sat there for a while, content.

Until, of course your thigh started feeling wet and warm.

• •

mr. compress / atsuhiro

He was startled, but as per usual, he maintained somewhat of a calm composure.

He was still wildly confused, however.

How could his lovely possibly lead a hero to their hideout? It didn’t make sense.

Then it clicked. You were forced to.

So, him and the rest of the league took care of the hero who’d nabbed you. Forcing you to betray some of the only people you had in life.

After the fight had ended, you were crying a bit. Sat in a corner, arms wrapped around your knees, salty tears streaming down your face.

He walked up to you, and got on a knee in front of you.

“Darling? Hey, why are you crying?” he soothed, holding one of your hands.

It only made you cry harder, and you lept onto him, holding him tight. “I brought that stupid hero here! I was weak.. and he.. he forced me to lead him here..!” You looked at his face, which held a look of worry, as well as empathy.

“My love,” he held you close, “it wasn’t your fault. It’s not like you meant to lead them here. Right?”

You nod, and he gives a small smile, his mask discarded on the ground. He’d taken off all his head gear, and you could see the way his hair was messy and disheveled from the fight, and how his eyes held a compassion he reserved solely for you. “Good. I know you would never lead.. heroes here on purpose.”

He landed a soft kiss on your head, and he wiped away your tears with his gloved thumb. “Now, wipe away those tears, sweetheart. They don’t suit you.”

You smile, and wrap your arms around him as he pulls you up.

“Let’s go see how the others are holding up, hm?”

• •

twice / jin

Of course, he was quite.. split about the whole situation. (wow such a comedian omg)

But in all seriousness, he just stared.

“What?! They brought a HERO here?! How could they?! Wait no it wasn’t their fault. But it must’ve been!”

You would just stare at him, as the mountainous lady hero holding you gripped you tight. She’d flung you on the ground. “Ah, so you weren’t lying to me!” she’d say

Of course, Twice and the rest of the villains would put good work in at taking care of Mt. Lady.

Although, to yours and the LOV’s dismay, you had to relocate. You guys weren’t safe anymore.

As soon as you found solice, you broke down.

He didn’t know how to react at first

“Oh, uhm, sweetie, why are you crying??” He’d come close to your shaking frame against the wall. “Don’t cry! I don’t think it was your fault! At least, I’m pretty sure I don’t. Nope, I don’t!”

You looked up at him, tears streaming down your face. “Jin.. I led her here. Of course it’s my fault!”

“No no no! Didn’t she make you lead her here? If that’s the case, then it’s not your fault! Don’t worry!” He grabbed you, wrapping you in a hug in his big arms. “No crying! Poof poof, no more tears!”

You giggle through tears at his goofiness. You poke his chest. “Jin-Jin, I think you’re squeezing me to death.”

His eyes widen. “NO NO I’M SORRY-“ he let go, then held you again. “Well, I’m just hugging you. Just being a bit tight?”

You roll your eyes playfully, and nod. “Yep. Just squeezing me a bit. No worries though Jin-Jin.” You kiss his cheek, his stubble grazing you a bit. “Sorry for being so emotional.. I thought I’d really screwed up.”

He frowns a bit, and pets your hair back. “No, no you didn’t! Don’t worry sweetie, you’re okay! I know you.. you didn’t mean to. We never mean to, but stuff happens! And we got it alllll taken care of, so don’t worry your pretty little head.” He gives you a smile. Then he stares off into space for a second. Then looks back at you. “Sweetie, can I put my mask on?”

You nod, knowing how he gets when he has his mask off for too long. “Yes, oh my god I forgot.” You help tug his mask back on, and you can see his smile through the mask.

“I love you, sweetie.” He wrapped his arms around you a bit tighter.

“I love you too, Jin-Jin.”

You stayed like that for a while, until of course you were interrupted by one of the members.

• • • •

Hope you liked it! I know the characters probably seemed a little ooc, but I did my best.

Be safe, love y’all <3

#mha x reader #twice x reader #jin bubaigawara x reader #jin bubaigawara #tomura shigaraki #tomura shigaraki x reader #himiko toga #himiko toga x reader #dabi todoroki #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #mr compress #mr compress x reader #atsuhiro sako #mha villains x reader

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mxgentx · 11 months

Text

Share this with a twice fan! ☀️

#jin bubaigawara #league of villains #jin bubaigawara x reader #mha fanart #bnha fanart #bnha twice #mha twice #twice mha #twice bnha

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coopigeoncoo · 7 months

Text

The Space Between Stars

Pairing: Bubaigawara Jin x Gender Neutral Reader

Rating: General Audiences

Tags: Smoking, Burglary, Home Invasion, First Meetings, Meet Ugly, Domestic Fluff

Written as part of @shibaraki's KOMOREBI Milestone Collab!

---

You thought your terrible day couldn't get any worse, but then you come home and accidentally interrupt a burglary in progress.

What follows is a series of questionable decisions you probably should have thought Twice about.

---

"Uh- hello!" The man greeted with a nervous laugh, tugging the mask that was scrunched up on the top half of his face a little further down his nose, fumbling the corner of the TV slightly as he did so. "Don't freak out. I can explain."

"Yeah?" You murmured distantly, thoughts frantically racing as you tried to process the entire scene playing out before you.

Something in the man seemed to suddenly shift; his jaw clenching tightly and his shoulders pulling taut in a way that made your focus instantly sharpen- the same way all the animals in nature documentaries did when they finally realized a predator was in their midst.

"I'm stealing your TV."

---

Continue reading below or follow the link to Ao3!

Today has been an awful day.

Not because any single, overwhelmingly bad thing had happened; you had just been worn down by a never ending gauntlet of unfortunate events.

Sometime during the night your phone cord had come unplugged and fully drained your phone battery, which meant that you woke up long after you had set your original and backup alarms to sound. As a result, you didn't have time for breakfast and ended up just using mouthwash instead of stopping to fully brush your teeth, but even that time save wasn't enough to keep you from missing your usual train.

You'd tripped on an uneven patch of sidewalk heading out to lunch and irreparably scuffed up the toes of your favorite dress shoes, and the presentation you had been working for the past two weeks to put together was somehow missing the last; and most integral, set of slides.

The subsequent verbal lashing that your boss and, more embarrassingly, your boss's boss, had given you lasted so long you'd ended up missing the train.

Again.

And as you sought to pass the time waiting for the next train to arrive by messing around on your phone, you discovered that the person you'd been seriously flirting with on the online dating site had suddenly blocked you without notice.

So when the skies opened up on your walk home, pouring down buckets of rain with such force that your skin stung from the impact, you comforted yourself with the knowledge that you could spend the rest of the day holed up in your apartment. You'd slip into some pajamas, snuggle up on the couch with your favorite blanket, and veg out in front of the TV you had scrimped and saved to buy; doing your best to forget that today even happened while you yelled at quiz show contestants for chiming in with incorrect answers. Perhaps you'd even go a step further and spend the commercial breaks on your phone, making wish lists full of products you'd never actually buy- letting yourself indulge in the fantasy of filling your overpriced and miniscule apartment with whatever gadgets and bits of decor that caught your interest.

It wouldn't completely erase your misery, but it was the best you could do on a limited budget and exactly enough energy to shuffle from your bedroom to the living room after you peeled off your drenched work clothes.

But your plans of relaxation were immediately foiled when you opened the door of your first floor apartment and were greeted by the sight of a man in a skintight black and white body suit trying to shove your brand new TV through your living room window; the bottom pane filled with with a spider web of cracks that spread even further with every heaving attempt to shove the flat-screen through the too small opening. He froze when he noticed you, a cigarette dangling from his bottom lip as his scruffy jaw dropped open in surprise from your sudden appearance.

"Yeah?" You murmured distantly, thoughts frantically racing as you tried to process the entire scene playing out before you.

"I'm stealing your TV."

And with that proclamation, your last frayed thread of patience snapped.

"Of course you are!" You laugh, frustrated tears welling up quickly and blurring your vision. "Why wouldn't you be? It's not like my day could get any worse !"

"Hey, now- don't cry!" The man pleaded, thoughtlessly reaching out towards you with shaking hands, the TV nearly crashing to the floor as he released his hold on it; barely managing to catch the corner with a sharp curse and lower it gently to the floor. "I'm not gonna hurt you or nothing- I'm just going to rob you a little !"

"A little? A little?" You shriek, wiping at your wet cheeks in frustration. "You're taking the most expensive thing I own! That feels like an awful lot of robbing to me!"

"That's- that's a fair point," the man conceded, scratching at his exposed chin nervously as he looked around your bare bones apartment with a critical eye; taking note of your collection of second hand furniture and threadbare curtains your old roommate's cat had delighted in shredding.

"I'm too tired to deal with this right now," you whimper as you take a step backwards into the breezeway, exhaustion winning out over more situationally appropriate emotions like absolute panic. "Take whatever you want, but I would really appreciate it if you could leave the urn on the bookcase alone. My Grandma is in there."

"I'd never-!" The man gasped, affronted by the implication he'd be despicable enough to make off with a jar full of Grandma dust.

"You're literally in the process of robbing me!" You laugh wetly, wiping your running nose onto your soaking wet sleeve. "I don't think you're allowed to be offended by my assumptions about the quality of your character right now."

"I'm sorry. This isn't- this isn't the kind of person I want to be," the man whispered, his nervously wringing hands tightening into shaking fists. "This is who I have to be."

"Whatever," you huff dismissively. "It doesn't really matter. Close the window on your way out so the rain doesn't soak down to the floorboards."

"You gonna call the cops on me?" The man asked, nervously puffing on the cigarette in his mouth, the pungent clove smoke pulled towards you by the cross breeze; drifting straight into your face and making you recoil.

"I don't live on the right side of the city for the police to care about a stolen TV," you inform him, grimacing at the tinkling sound of the buffeting rain upgrading into hailstones. "I'm just going to duck into a store or something. I'll be back in like, an hour, so it would be great if you could wrap up taking my stuff and be gone by then. It's getting late and I still need to cook dinner."

And with those parting words you gently pulled the door closed behind you and, recognizing the futility of locking a door during an active home invasion; stepped back out into the freezing rain without looking back.

The only store on your block that had bothered to stay open in such terrible weather was a tiny holistic store crammed in between a pawn shop and a seafood market. The shop owner, a serious faced woman with her hair slicked back into a painfully tight looking bun, did her best to cover up the pervasive fish odor that seeped in from the neighboring business by having three oil diffusers running all at once; but the only thing it really accomplished was adding nauseating strong floral notes to the briny air.

You felt bad lingering in her store for so long without buying anything, so after a drawn out production of pretending to consider buying crystals in a variety of cuts and sizes while internally balking at the price tags, you settled on purchasing a mood ring from one of the clearance displays. It had a large band size, too large for your fingers for sure, but it was the only thing that you could afford to purchase now that you'd have to start saving for a replacement TV.

The woman behind the counter was obviously disappointed with your thriftiness, but you pretended to ignore her sourly pursed lips as she thanked you for your business and recommended you return at a later date to have your aura cleansed.

"It's all muddy, you know," she informed you with a disapproving huff, tugging firmly on the stiff collar of her dress shirt to shift it back into place. "An aura that messy will only invite trouble and stress."

In your experience, trouble and stress never needed an invitation, but instead of voicing your thoughts you held your tongue, jammed the mood ring onto your thumb, and thanked her for the concern; snagging a business card in a show of false interest before bracing yourself for yet another slog through the rain.

It wasn't coming down quite so hard anymore, but you were already so thoroughly drenched that the waning storm felt like a meaningless show of mercy from the universe at large; a waste of whatever finite karma you'd accrued during your life thus far.

You'd boldly assumed that coming home to some guy stealing your TV would be the most surprising thing you'd walk in on today, but nothing could match the absolute astonishment you felt when you entered back into your apartment for the second time that evening.

It had been easy to imagine that your place would be a ransacked disaster at this point, electronics long gone and your personal effects scattered around haphazardly as the intruder fruitlessly searched for valuables. Instead, everything was in the same, or better, condition than you'd left it in.

The TV had been returned to its proper place on your third-hand entertainment stand, a large scratch on the side of the frame but seemingly no worse for the wear as the weatherman on screen droned on about the unprecedentedly large storm rolling through the city. The cracked window had been covered In layers of carefully placed packing tape to keep it from shattering completely; a towel spread out on the carpet beneath it to soak up the rainwater that had collected inside during the thief's botched getaway.

All the shoes in your entryway, the ones you normally kicked off and left where they landed, had been lined up in neat pairs next to the coat closet. The blanket you'd left crumpled on your lumpy couch after a quick nap yesterday had been neatly draped over the back of the sofa.

And the thief, who you thought would be long gone by now, had made himself at home in your kitchenette. With a set of mismatched hot pads on his hands he pulled a half sheet pan out of the countertop oven, the telltale aroma of baking bread filling every corner of your small apartment and driving out the lingering stench of cigarette smoke. Desperately, you wondered if he'd noticed your arrival; cautiously rocking back onto your rear foot in preparation for making a quick escape when he called out to you from across the apartment.

"Don't just stand in the doorway," the man chastised as he slid the hot tray down onto the stovetop, a small saucepan set to simmer on the next burner over. "You'll let all the warm air out."

"Uh- yeah. Of course. Sorry," you apologized reflexively, wildly unsure about what to do but deciding that the best course of action is to likely play along and keep the burglar-turned-baker calm. Pushing the door closed with a shaking hand, you did your best to keep your breathing calm and level despite the dread violently roiling in your belly; your sense of self preservation blaring in the back of your mind like a siren.

"Welcome home. Again," the thief greeted pleasantly, the toothpick in his mouth straining under the force of his clenched teeth. "You said you'd be gone for an hour."

"I- I ran out of stuff to do and figured you'd be gone by now. And not, you know- staying to clean up my apartment."

"Yeah," the man laughed, rubbing at the back of his half-masked head nervously; hand still shoved into one of your plaid oven mitts. "This isn't how these sorts of things usually go down."

"Then why did you do it?" You ask with a nervous swallow, the domestic setting making you bolder than the situation would typically dictate. "Stay, I mean?"

"It just- it seemed like you were having a really bad day," the man murmured sheepishly, pulling off the oven mitts one at a time and tossing them down onto a clear swath of counter next to the stove. "And I didn't want to make it any worse."

"Oh."

"This is- so awkward. I'm sorry," he muttered, scrubbing a hand across the stubble on his chin in frustration. "I wanted to be gone by the time you got back to avoid all of this."

"It's okay," you say, unsure as to how sincere you actually were.

"It's not okay," the man laughed dryly. "I was going to rob you- picking up your living room doesn't make it okay! It doesn't make me okay!"

"You could have done worse."

"I could have," the man nodded solemnly, the action switching to a frantic shaking a moment later. "I wouldn't have."

A realization struck you abruptly. "Tell me a lie," you demanded.

"What?"

You wrench open the coat closet door and reach inside, pulling out a chunky blue scarf; a gift from a close friend during their brief but prolific crocheting phase.

"Say this is red," you said, holding the scarf aloft for him to see. He froze, every one of his muscles set on edge as he stared at the length of knotted yarn in your grasp.

"I don't know what you're trying to prove here. You already know that I can't."

"I just- I want to make sure," you insisted, holding the scarf up a fraction higher. "Please."

"Okay," the man said, deflating as he exhaled in defeat. "The scarf is red. It's obviously blue."

Emboldened by the first successful test of your hypothesis, you stepped further into the apartment, snagging a purple tissue box off of the coffee table with your free hand and holding it up for the man to see.

"And this?"

"Green. It's purple."

Gliding further into your apartment, you deposited the scarf and the tissue box onto the card table you ate your meals at, and grabbed an overripe banana from the bowl of half-rotten fruit you kept replenishing each week; ever hopeful that you'd wake up one day with the self restraint necessary to reach for an apple instead of a bag of chips when you felt snacky.

"This banana?"

"Teal. Black- that's one nasty looking banana!"

"It is, isn't it? I should probably just throw it out," you say with a grimace as your finger hits a soft spot on the peel and sinks down into the goey inner banana flesh.

"Here, catch!" the man called out, tossing a slightly damp dish rag towards you, which you miraculously managed to snatch out of the air.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

It was quiet for a moment while you wiped the mealy banana goo from your finger, digging under your nail with the stiff corner of the towel. "So you can't lie," you mused. "Is that a Quirk thing?"

"May as well be, I guess," the man sighed, turning to examine the squat loaf of bread cooling on your stove top. "I want to go ahead and slice this. You won't freak out if I grab a knife, will you?"

"Depends," you reply evasively with narrowed eyes as he pulled a knife half way out of the knife block, examining the edge with a frown before sliding it back into place. "Do you plan on slicing me up, too?"

"These knives are so dull I don't think I could even if I wanted to," he groused, pulling another knife out for inspection with a dissatisfied frown. "And I don't want to."

Eyes locked on the intruder's back; you lowered yourself down carefully into the closest dining chair; knees weak and mind reeling from the surreal turn your evening had taken. "So you don't want my stuff, and you don't want to hurt me- what exactly do you want?"

"What I want-," the man paused, a triumphant fist pump accompanying his discovery of a serrated blade. "Is for you to try this bread that I made."

"And then you'll leave?"

"I'll leave right now if that's what you want," the man offered, running the scalloped edge across the craggy top crust of the bread and laughing delightedly at the scraping sound it made. "Do you hear that? That's one crispy crust! This loaf is gonna be goooood."

"How did you even make bread, anyway? I know for a fact that I don't have any yeast."

"You don't really have much of anything. Believe me, I checked," the man grinned cheekily over his shoulder at you, as though he thought his confession about rifling through your apartment was charming and not a blatant invasion of privacy. "But lucky for you, I'm well versed in poverty meals. Mix up a basic bread dough, add in a beer where the yeast should be, shove that baby into the oven and you're ready to go! There's a bit more to it than that."

"Well, it smells wonderful. This is probably the best this apartment has ever smelled."

"No kidding! You get a discount for having the unit right above the dumpster?"

"I wish," You sighed forlornly, taking a moment to imagine how much easier your life would be with even a slightly lower cost of living. "But taking out the trash is pretty convenient, I can just drop it in from the fire escape."

"Bowls?" He inquired as he shut the heat off under the saucepan, giving it one final stir.

"Oh- I only have a couple. They're probably on the drying rack."

He salutes you sharply before shuffling off to follow your instructions, carefully selecting and stacking the dishes into his arms like they were valuable pieces of china and not the very worst a home store clearance rack had to offer. You twisted your too-big mood ring anxiously around your thumb, reminding yourself with every turn that the man in front of you, despite his seemingly affable nature, wasn't a guest. He was an intruder in your home, no better than the mice that darted behind your fridge when you turned the kitchen light on in the middle of the night.

Although the mice had never cooked you dinner before, so you suppose that was a point in his favor.

"Careful- careful," the man whispered quietly to himself, inching across the floor towards you with two bowls of soup balanced on his forearm; bracing the overhanging rims with a plate stacked lopsidedly with still steaming bread slices. He gingerly deposited the bowls onto the table, sliding yours to a stop directly in front of you without any of the broth sloshing over the edge; an impressive feat considering that he'd filled it up to the brim.

"Nailed it!" He crowed in pride, tossing the plate full of bread down onto the table unceremoniously, the thick slices nearly bouncing off the plate from his rough handling. Collapsing into the folding chair opposite if you in what could only be described as a sprawl, you watch with thinly veiled interest as he pushes his mask up over the bridge of his nose. Nostrils fully uncovered, he hunches over the bowl of soup and inhales deeply, flapping his hands to fan the aromatic vapors directly towards his face.

"Not too shabby for a can of soup and leftover veggies!"

"Is that what this is?" You ask curiously, giving the soup a small stir, trudging up a floret of seared broccoli that definitely came from takeout earlier in the week.

"Don't be shy now. Dig in!" The man encouraged, placing a large chunk of soup-drenched bread into his mouth with a happy sigh. The soup was perfectly edible, nothing to write home about but still a notable effort considering the meager ingredients your kitchen had to offer. But the bread was a different story entirely.

"This crust is incredible!" You gasp, the dry crumbs sticking to your lips.

"A good dinner for a rainy night," the man stated, holding his half devoted bread slice out towards yours. "Cheers?"

"Cheers!" You laugh, pushing your slice of bread against his; the crusts impacting and sending a dusting of flaky bread crumbs tumbling onto the surface of the table.

"Whoopsy-daisy! I'll get that, don't worry," the man reassured you, licking his finger and tapping it across the table, picking up crumbs as he went.

"'Whoopsy-daisy', huh?" You muse, sipping at a spoonful of soup thoughtfully. "How many kids do you have?"

"Kids? Oh, no- I don't- I don't have any of those," he stammered, shoving his crumb covered finger into his mouth and removing it with a comical pop. "Her name's Himiko."

"That's…quite the discrepancy between those two answers."

"Himiko isn't- she's not mine, mine. But she's mine, you know? In all the ways that should matter."

"So you love her then?"

"Of course I do. She's a great kid."

"That's all that matters then, isn't it?" You smiled sincerely, the first grin of the evening not strained through a filter of worry. The man seemed to notice the subtle shift in your demeanor, the tension in his posture softening ever so slightly as he somehow managed to slouch even farther down in his seat.

It had been a long time since you'd eaten alone with someone. You went out after work with colleagues sometimes, but the places that you always ended up were crowded and noisy; tables and booths crammed to near bursting to accommodate the ravenous waves of dinner rush patrons. The last meal you'd eaten at home with someone was likely before you moved into this apartment, when you still lived off-campus with a couple of roommates you liked progressively less with each passing week.

You'd been beyond thrilled to land a job that paid enough to allow you to live alone, even though affording to do so meant relocating across town to a less desirable zip code. But a slight downgrade in living conditions was well worth the benefit of knowing you'd never again have to live through the experience of walking in on your roommate and their booty call having sex on your bed because it was 'more comfortable' than theirs.

While you would never miss the stacks of unwashed dishes left to putrefy in the sink or having to wipe urine splatters off of the toilet seat before you could relieve yourself, it was hard to deal with the constant quiet sometimes. The drone of the TV couldn't replace someone asking about your day or replicate the joy of shared laughter.

And you couldn't help but wonder if it was a similar situation for the man across from you.

"Is it okay for me to ask your name?" You murmur quietly, eyes locked on your own hands as you push a tomato chunk around your bowl with the back of your spoon. "I understand if you don't want me to know. The less I probably know about you the better, huh? I'm sorry, that was stupid of me. Forget I said anything-"

"Twice. You should call me Twice," the man interrupted; letting out an irritated grunt before opening his mouth once more. "I want you to call me Jin."

Thrown off balance once again by his contradictory requests, your brain races frantically to find some sort of middle ground between the two.

"Do you want me to call you Jin…twice? Like, JinJin?"

"That's a little ah- intimate , dontcha' think?" Jin said, a nervous cough punctuating his sentence sharply. He pulled the bottom edge of his mask down further, trying to cover up the tell-tale embarrassed burn of his cheeks without compromising his ability to eat. "Just Jin is fine."

"Alright. Thank you for the meal, Jin. This is a much nicer dinner than I would have put together for myself, even if I hadn't been delayed by some guy breaking into my apartment," you joked, sending a pointed look Jin's way; politely averting your eyes and pretending not to notice his splotchy blush creeping even further down his cheeks.

"A burglar, huh? Sounds like a real heel."

"Maybe," you murmured thoughtfully as you watched Jin try and cram an entire slice of bread into his mouth at once. "But I don't think he's all that bad."

Jin, having gone back for a second serving of soup, was the last to finish eating. You swooped in and grabbed his bowl before he could object, placing it on the counter as you waited for the sink to finish filling so you could begin washing the dishes.

"You don't have to do that," Jin grumbled from his position behind you, standing close enough for you to feel him nervously shuffling from foot to foot. "I can clean up after myself. "

"Nope, sorry. It's the house rules," you sighed forlornly, acting as though you weren't the sole person responsible for making those rules. "If you cook, you don't clean up."

"Is there anything else I could do? Help you out a little more?"

"I guess you could help me dry?" You offer, scooting over slightly to make room for him in your tiny kitchen area.

"Aye-aye, Captain!" Jin saluted as he slotted into place next to you, grabbing the dripping wet cup you offered out to him with one hand and picking up a dry dishrag with the other.

The sounds of clinking cutlery and the slow but steady dripping of your faucet worked together with the rumbling storm outside to craft a peaceful atmosphere; one that helped soften the sharp edges of reality and allowed you to gloss over the fact that you were having a very pleasant time with the man who had started out the evening with the intention of robbing you blind.

It was reckless and stupid, but you couldn't help but worry a little about what would happen to Jin once he left your apartment. If he was desperate enough to resort to theft for some quick cash, you couldn't help but wonder and worry about what sort of life awaited him outside of the cramped comfort of your home.

"Are you going to be okay? Once you leave?" You ask, prying up a stubborn piece of dried food from the tines of a fork with your fingernail.

"That's one heck of a loaded question!" Jin laughed sharply. "The world is an absolute mess right now, society is on the brink of collapsing in on itself- I don't think anyone is going to be okay for a long, long time."

"Yeah, but- there's nothing I can do about any of that stuff," you sigh quietly, watching the small bubbles on the surface of the water swirl around your wrists. "But I can help you, if you need it. I probably have enough money to put you up at a hotel for the night. Keep you out of the storm."

"You're too kind," Jin murmured quietly, his voice heavy with appreciation. "But I don't want you to worry about me, okay? Things are…difficult right now. But it won't last forever."

"I wish I had your optimism."

"It's not optimism," Jin said, placing the last plate into the drying rack next to the sink and passing you the dish towel to wipe your hands on.

"What is it then?" You asked, unable to fully dry your hands on the wet cloth, so you settled for simply wiping off the lingering film of bubbles from the back of your hands.

"Experience,” he said, scratching thoughtlessly at the scruff growing unevenly across his exposed jaw. “My life has always been- well, bad. Mostly. I used to really hate that. Thought it wasn't fair. But now I don't mind so much."

"Why not?"

"Well, eventually I realized that the bad times I went through made all the good things in my life seem even better," he said, turning his head to gaze out of your taped up window, as though he would be able to see the sky and not the moldering plaster exterior of the apartment complex next to yours. "Stars wouldn't be anything special if it wasn't for all that dark space between em', you know?"

You thought back on your day, on the series of disastrous events that had weighed you down soured your disposition, and how now; with the passage of time and the balm of Jin's companionship, the day didn't feel quite so dreadful in retrospect.

"I hope you saved room for dessert," you smiled, turning to riffle through a cabinet for the small package of cookies you kept tucked away for emergencies.

"Thanks, but I'm still full from dinner. There's always room for a treat or two!"

The bag of cookies, already half empty from propping you up emotionally during the dramatic season finale of the show you'd binged last weekend, didn't last long. But you and Jin did your best to stretch out the warm comfort of the evening as long as you could; chatting over the commercials as the emergency weather broadcast came to a conclusion.

"Welcome back, viewers!" A man with slicked back hair and an unfortunate mustard colored blazer greeted as the title card for the incoming show disappeared from the screen. "You're tuned in to 'Top 10 at 10', the show where we look back at the week's top moments from the Top Ranked Heroes! Next up is the Winged Hero: Hawks, swooping in for a rescue-!"

"Ugh," you groan, patting the couch cushions around you in search of the remote. "Is the controller over by you? I want to change the channel."

"Nope, no controller," Jin said, his focus solely on the TV as the Number Two Hero crashed through a window on the top most floor of a burning apartment building. "So, you're not a Hawks fan I take it?"

"Hawks gives me weird vibes," you admit, lifting up a throw pillow to peer down into the space next to the arm of the sofa as Hawks waved casually on the screen, a shaking Pomeranian tucked securely under his arm as he floated to the ground. "I don't trust people who always smile. It feels like they're trying to hide something."

"You're a good judge of character, aren't you?" Had you been less focused on your frantic search for the remote you would have noticed Jin's uncomfortable fidgeting and repeatedly clenching fists, but you'd missed those telltale signs that preceded a shift in his personality. So the sudden appearance of that voice, the brash one you'd grown accustomed to hear chiding and correcting Jin's half-truths, was unnerving. You wondered how loud his unspoken thoughts must be for that second voice to feel the need to comment on Jin's internal dialogue.

"I used to think so," you laugh dryly, the hand you'd been using to fish around in the couch coming up with a fistful of crumbs and an old tin of forgotten breath mints. "But recent events definitely have me reevaluating that assumption about myself."

"You shouldn't-," Jin swallowed thickly, carefully considering his words; weighting them for sincerity lest he stray too far off the line of authenticity and unwittingly reveal too much. "Don't make me be the reason you doubt yourself. I'll take the blame for all sorts of stuff, but I don't want that to be on me, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered, once again fumbling to regain your emotional footing. Talking with Jin was like walking across a messy room with your eyes closed, constantly tripping up and unsure of what caused you to even stumble in the first place.

"I mean, if you can't trust yourself, then who can you trust?" Jin asked, his voice only just beneath a bellow and pulled thin at the edges; a manic sort of cry that poorly covered his underlying distress. "I can't trust myself anymore!"

"You can’t?"

"No. I- I broke that trust. I broke myself."

Carefully, you lower yourself down on the cushion next to him; a vulnerable place for an unguarded moment. "I know that it probably doesn't mean much of anything coming from me- we're pretty much strangers," you admit with a helpless sort of shrug, extending a hand out towards him like you would a cowering animal; slowly, carefully, like you half expected to be bitten for your trouble. "But I trust you."

"You don't know me. I don't even know if I'm me," he admits with a watery sniff, accepting your outstretched hand with his shaking fingers.

"This Jin, this you- ," you emphasize with a tight squeeze of your hand. "-is the only one I know. And I happen to think he's pretty alright."

"Even for a bad guy?"

"You're the best bad guy I know," you assure him readily, the words somehow playful despite their sincerity. But it seems like Jin was looking for a way out of the mire of introspection he'd waded into and quickly took the metaphorical hand you'd extended; lifting himself out of his head with a breathy chuckle.

"I am pretty great, aren't I?"

"A terrible thief, but an excellent chef."

"Guess I missed my calling in life!" He grinned brightly, sucking up the bead of snot dripping from his nose.

"It's never too late to change."

"It is for me."

You waited anxiously, almost desperately for that second voice to cry out in objection, but the room remained silent except for the canned laughter piping in through the TV speakers. Whatever path Jin was on offered him no alternative, no deviation from the bumpy road beneath his feet.

"Earlier, you told me that this isn't who you want to be. That this is who you have to be."

"Who I need to be. Who they need me to be."

"Will you do something for me?" You asked, easily sliding the mood ring off of your thumb and spinning it between the fingers of your free hand. "One last favor and we'll call it even?"

"Of course," Jin nodded solemnly as his chest puffed up; proud to be entrusted with carrying out a task for you.

"When you have the chance, I want you to make the choice you want. Be the Jin you want to be," you pleaded, sliding the mood ring easily onto his much larger pointer finger.

"This like a promise ring or something?"

"I suppose," you hum thoughtfully. "But only if you promise."

He held the ring up in front of his face, watching the colors swirl and shift rapidly across the gleaming black stone; far more active than it had been on your own hand. Jin clenched his fist, locking the ring onto his finger like he was scared it might tumble from his grasp and disappear into the unknown abyss alongside your remote, never to be seen again. You couldn't see his eyes, only the expressive patterning on his mask that managed to contort with his fluctuating disposition, but there was a sudden weight upon your shoulders that let you know that you were the sole object of his intense focus.

Jin lifted his ringed hand into the air between you, splaying his fingers wide in front of your face. The dark, swirling gem of his ring glimmering merrily from the vicinity of your forehead, a third eye for Jin to take with him; an eye that would see him in the way he craved- as the Jin that existed solely in your gaze.

"I promise."

The night, as all things, could not last forever. But you were unprepared for the abrupt way that Jin threw himself up from the couch when the late night News broadcast cut to live coverage of a crime in progress; a patch-skinned man cackling in delight as he threw bright blue flames from the back of a speeding van at pursuing police vehicles.

"That idiot, " he hissed, patting his sides and butt like he was checking for keys or a phone that were very obviously not tucked into his spandex suit. "I have to go."

"Oh ," you manage to say through the clenching knot of dismay that had tied itself up in your chest. “Will you come back?"

"I- I shouldn't," he whispered, regret palpable in every syllable. "I want to."

Hastily, you stumbled to your feet and strode across the living room, grabbing the ceramic urn you had on prominent display before circling back and stopping directly in front of Jin.

"Here,” you said, pushing the vase firmly into Jin's arms. “Take this.”

"For the last time, I'm not going to take your Grandma!" Jin cried in exasperation, pushing the floral patterned urn back into your arms.

"Please," you snorted, lifting off the lid and pulling out a small plastic bag of gray ashes, shaking it back and forth in the air. "This isn't actual people powder. It's a bunch of charcoal ash I grabbed from my neighbor's grill."

"Then why do you-?"

"I'm not totally naive," you said, hooking your hand on the rim of the urn and gently jostling it, the tell tale clinking of coins echoing from inside. "Every burglar grabs a piggy bank, but very few think to check a jar of apparent human remains."

"I can't take your savings," Jin protested weakly, staring down longingly at the handfuls of bills scattered amongst the change. "I'm not gonna steal from you."

"Of course you're not. First of all, this is a gift ," you emphasize, pushing the urn more firmly against his chest. "And second, this isn't for you."

"It's not?" Jin asked bewilderedly, twisting his head around to check if a second criminal had snuck into the apartment while he was distracted.

"Nope. This is for Himiko," you explained, letting go of the vase and stepping back so Jin had no choice but to tighten his grip on the money jar or let it crash to the ground. "Buy her something nice, okay? And treat yourself while you’re at it."

"I- I will," he promised, unable to refuse your gesture if it meant securing some measure of comfort for Himiko. Tucking the urn safely into the crook of his arm, Jin tugged his mask down; obscuring his face fully for the first time. It was impressive how much that narrow swath of exposed skin had been carved into your memory in such a short span of time. Even now, through the cover of a mask, you could still make out the small hints of Jin that lay beneath; the jut of his chin, the set of his jaw, the jittery way he clicked his teeth together.

With a grace you wouldn't expect of a man his size, he slipped towards the patched up window, prying up the frame and squeezing an entire leg out onto your fire escape before he noticed your bewildered expression.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"You- you don't have to sneak out the window," you explained, pivoting your body to point towards the entryway. "You can just use the door."

"Right! The door! Of course!" Jin laughed, smacking himself in the forehead as he pulled his leg back into your apartment, hopping clumsily on one foot until his appendage was fully free. "Forgot that you had one of those."

"Well, I hope you don't forget again," you chastise playfully, guiding him out of your front door and into your apartment breezeway. "Because I sure would appreciate it if you'd knock next time."

"Next time?" Jin asked, voice hitching hopefully at the invitation.

"Bye, Jin," you smiled, giving him a small wave as you slowly closed the door. "See you later!"

"Right," he murmured, staring down at his fluctuating mood ring, a smile creeping along his face as white specks scattered across the dark blue stone; like stars glimmering brilliantly in the dark night sky. "Later."

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