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i-cant-sing · 3 years

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An Accident

Yeah... you may have seen this before, earlier this week when I accidentally posted it. Anyways, this is a part 2 of the Todoroki clan being obsessed with reader's hair. So, um enjoy.

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Yandere Todoroki Clan:

Rei is obsessed with reader’s hair.

She’s taken such good care of it, and after years of hard work, your hair now reaches just around your butt. Your hair is healthy, thick, luscious, and cut into a smooth, U shape; of course all trims are done by Rei herself because she doesn't even trust professionals. And even though you’ve asked Rei on multiple occasions to cut it short, at least up to the middle of your back, she just wouldn’t, always saying that you’re being unreasonable. But you’re not; you’ve given her multiple valid reasons.

For example, Rei and Fuyumi do your hair themselves. And initially, they would let you choose whatever hairstyle you wanted, but now they pick one for you, saying they know which one will suit your outfit of the day better. Rei likes to do double buns, or ponytails tied with ribbons or just one high pony with a pretty big bow on the top of your head. Fuyumi on the other hand makes super intricate hairstyles, and while they look pretty, only you know how much pain your scalp is in. Fuyumi does your hair as if you’re her doll, yanking and twisting hard, saying that she needs to be this rough to achieve the distinctive braid patterns. Thankfully, Rei usually does your hair most of the time.

One of the main reasons you've begged Rei to let you cut your hair short is how much time she (and you) would safe. Since your hair is so long, it takes a lot of time for Rei to put in hair masks, serums, oils, etc. It takes even longer to wash and dry them out, and then style them as well. But she smiled oh so kindly, and told you that she doesn't mind. She looks forward to taking care of your hair, forcing you to sit between her legs for hours as she applies some expensive magic growth oil, ignoring how you didn't like this.

And even if your hair is curly naturally, like even 4C curly hair, Rei will have it straight as a stick in no time (don't bother telling her that you like it natural). But don't worry, its still quite voluminous.

Of course, Rei washes your hair herself, telling you that you’re simply not capable enough to manage it. (At least she lets you wash your body yourself.) And due to your hair being so long, it takes time to not only wash it, but also dry it. Rei will detangle using a wide tooth comb, starting from the bottom and working her way up. Then she’ll dry it with her cold breath, and if required, call Enji to dry your hair with his heat. You like it when Enji dries your hair, because he does it quickly and your hair becomes far smoother.

And its not just Rei and Fuyumi that are obsessed with your hair, the boys are just as fond of it as well. Enji likes to card his fingers through your hair while he’s working on some papers or listening to news, his warm hands always putting you to sleep in his lap. Its an adorable sight, gives him a sense of peace.

Shotou also likes to run his hands through your long hair, especially after a stressful day. The feeling of his fingers through your smooth, long locks, it calms him. And if he’s feeling extra stressed, then he might braid your hair loosely as well. He always wears a scrunchie on his wrist for you.

You wouldn't ever admit it, but you enjoy it when Natsuo played with your hair. Its like he can sense when you're having a headache. He'll have you sit on the floor while he takes a seat on your bed, and then his fingers will do their magic. He knows exactly where to put pressure on your scalp, and exactly how much force to use. His massages always relieve your migraines, and he always massages with expertise to ensure their is proper blood flow in your scalp.

While you are more than happy to let Natsuo touch your hair, you hate it when Dabi's around. If you didn't know better, you'd think he wants to rip your scalp off. He knows how much it annoys you, always pulling at your ponytails, tugging at your braids, even yanking it a few times when you ignore him. And you've complained to your family, but all of them say that "oh he's just playing around." Or "no, he just misses you. He's only teasing." And when you ask Dabi to stop it, he'll just smile and say "big brother privileges."

He's insufferable.

Everyone gets to play with your hair, but God forbid if you do. Oh no, apparently you'd "destroy it", as if you're not capable of managing your own hair. You're not allowed to open your ponytails because, quoting Rei, "you're yanking your hair. You're going to rip your follicles- baby, stop. Just let me do it." But you know that she does that because she wants to brush your hair with the soft, bristle brush before you go to bed. And somedays, Rei doesn't tie your hair in a bun or something, letting your hair fall, and it gets in your way, and even then you're still not allowed to put it up because "oh honey, your hair needs to breathe too. If you keep it in a pony, the band will leave a mark in it." Honestly, everyone finds it adorable when you're dressed in your little, fluffy skirt paired with a cozy oversized sweater, all mad and pouting, trying to blow the hair strands blocking your field of vision. Like a little baby.

While Rei looks at your hair and sees years of her hards work and patience, all you see is losing control over your own life. And you are. They decide everything for you, from the clothes you wear, the food you eat, and even things you should like and dislike. They choose when you should go out, what you should watch, when its time for bed. They disregard your opinions and feelings, and if you show that you're frustrated, then its means that you're just throwing a "tantrum", and you need to be put to bed like some cranky child. You've told them that they're too overbearing, but they always say that they just love you.

What kind of love is controlling?

They're so lost in their delusions, that they don't even see the deteriorating effects it has on you mentally.

Actually, one person did see them. Dabi.

He saw how much everything was overwhelming you, how you were near tears when they talked over you, made choices for you.

He felt a bit bad for you, just a tad. Mostly, he felt there was another opportunity to mess with you.

When Dabi came to bother you one night, tugging at your hair again, this time a bit harder than usual, he saw you were ready to cry. You didn't even bother saying anything to him anymore, just kept quiet and did your best not to cry. Of course, now he ridiculed you. Called you a little crybaby and used that annoying patronising tone with you. And just as he was about to leave, he said "if your hair bothers you so much, why don't you just cut it, you big baby?"

As if something had finally snapped in you, you let his words echo. Why don't I cut it? What's stopping me?

Was it because you had learned to just give in?

You didn't even realise you had walked to your bathroom until you were holding a pair of scissors. Which surprised you, because you weren't allowed to use scissors unsupervised. It was almost as if a sign from the universe motivating you to do it, and definitely not Dabi who left them on the sink.

Holding the pair of scissors in one hand and a chunk of your hair in the other, you hesitate for a second and wonder what will Rei do. But before you could stop yourself, you cut.

I'll cross that bridge when it comes.

You start low, maybe 2 inches above your hips. It looks okay, but maybe you could cut a little more. And a little more. And a little more. Before you know it, your hair is around shoulder length, in an uneven, chunky bob. Its not perfect, but somehow you feel much better. Like you’ve finally gotten some control back. Wiping your tears away, you ruffle your hair a bit, the cool air on your neck adding to the feeling of freedom. You feel normal, happier, peaceful. Things you haven't felt in years. And all because you had 3 am meltdown.

After you cleaned up the bathroom, you went back to bed, anxious how everyone will react in the morning. Maybe they won't care. You thought. Its only hair. My hair.

Everyone was waiting for you at breakfast the next morning, and to everyone’s surprise, Dabi had joined them as well. Rei was cooking up some eggs, while the kids chatted. Enji was suspicious of the mischievous glint in Dabi’s eyes, and it was filling him with unease. Just as he was about to question him, you walked in.

Everyone went silent.

Then Fuyumi let out an audible gasp, while Dabi chuckled darkly. Natsuo, Shotou and Enji looked at you with their mouths agape.

“Good morning.”you greeted them.

Rei, who was facing away from you, finally turned towards you. “Good mo-”Rei’s breath hitched, eyes blown wide, as the plate of bacon fell from her hands.

Its funny how everyone in the kitchen, including you, had the same thought at that moment.

What the fuck?

Taking a deep breath, you moved to sit in your usual spot between Fuyumi and Rei, but Shotou suddenly pulled you back and pushed you into the seat beside him. He knows his mother is in a better state mentally, but something tells him not to risk it. Fuyumi snapped next, quickly getting up and cleaning the mess on the floor while Enji pulled Rei, who was still staring at you in disbelief, to sit beside him. You remained indifferent to everyone’s stares, quietly eating your food. As soon as you were done, Shotou got up and quickly pulled you out of the room, Dabi following close behind.

They sat in your room as Shotou looked at your hair with worry. “Looking nice, doll.”Dabi chuckled as he plopped down on your bed beside you. “Thanks.” you mumbled. “Y/n how did- why did you- why did you cut your hair?” Shotou asked, still looking at your choppy hair. “Do you not like it?” you asked. “N-no I do. But what will mom say-” “Shotou, its my hair.” you snapped. “Yeah, Shotou.” Dabi mocked. Fuyumi and Natsuo soon joined you guys, worrisome looks on their faces. “Why did you cut it? Oh my god, do you even know how much trouble you’re in?” Fuyumi was freaking out. “Its my hair.” you rolled your eyes. They ignored you. “Okay, okay. Shotou why don't you stick around with Y/n for a couple of days? Fuyumi and dad will try to keep mom away from her.” Before Fuyumi could nod, you stood up. “No.”

Natsuo looked at you confused. “what do you mean “no”?”

“I mean no. I don't need Shotou to babysit me. I can handle myself.” Fuyumi walked towards you, reaching her hands for you but you backed away, “Y/n, sweetie-” You cut her off ,“Stop treating me like a child.”

Shotou spoke this time, “Its for your protection-” “Protection from who? Our mother? Why?”your words dared them to say the truth. To agree that Rei was unstable. They didn't say anything.

A few days had passed by and things were returning to normal. Almost normal. Rei still had this thousand yard stare when she looked at you, but she never said anything. Cutting your hair was the best decision you had made, because not is it only easy to manage, but it also got the family off your back. Rei doesn't wash your hair anymore(although you think she's just not over the shock), Fuyumi doesn't need to do your hair, they dry faster, and all of your brothers (including Dabi) doesn't mess around with them anymore. Enji was the first to adjust to your new cut, he even complimented you one day.

Did you feel guilty because you know how attached Rei was to your hair? A bit, but then realised that you needed this. You need some control over your life, and if this is how they react to your new cut, then maybe you could start taking back reigns over other aspects of your life as well.

You thought that maybe Rei had finally gotten over it a week later, when you were laying in the bathtub, enjoying the hot bath. When you heard her walk in, you were a bit startled. Why was she here- is she finally over it? "Um- hey." She smiled at you. "Why are you here?" She took the bath stool and sat behind the tub. "You know why." She replied and started rolling her sleeves up. Is she here to wash my hair? "Oh, are you here to wash my hair? I don't need help with that anymore now that they're short." Rei smiled again, this one looking forced, before dipping her hand in the tub. "No, silly." And with that, Rei froze the entire the tub in 2 seconds. The ice trapped your limbs, and reached up to your clavicle. The sudden change from hot to cold had you jolt, but you couldn't move due to the frozen ice. "Mom-!" You heard the buzzing sound of a trimmer and then felt Rei entangle her fingers in your hair to yank your head back. "I'm here to complete your haircut." You tried moving your head but her grip on your scalp was unrelenting. She started trimming the right side of your head, moving it slowly as to get every single hair. "Honestly, you should've come to me. I do agree that it'd be a good idea to start again." Tears fell from your eyes, your teeth chattered and you could feel your heart beat slow down as the cold seeped into your bones. "M-mom, I'm col-d. P-please s-stop..." Rei was done with one half of your head. "You know, I read somewhere that your grows thicker if you cut it. I'm sure that after I've shaved your head, your hair will grow even fuller. I've already gotten some new oils and hair masks! Maybe we could do them together." You couldn't hear anything besides the slowing of your own heart beating. Your breath had started to become shallow, you couldn't think about anything except for how painful ice could be. Your lips were turning blue, eyes were getting clouded with black spots, all sensation from your body was losing. Just before you lost consciousness, you heard the bathroom door open and a panicked yell.

You felt warm.

When you came to, your entire body felt warm and weighted, probably due to the heavy blanket spread on you.

Opening your eyes, you found yourself in a dimly lit room. It was...your parents room. Why am I here? You turned your head to look around but your eyes stopped at the large figure sitting on a chair next to your bed.

"Dad?"

The figure's head snapped towards yours. "You're awake." He paused. "How- how are you feeling?" You moved the blanket off you, your body felt dense and ached. "Warm and...sore. What happened? Why am I in your bedroom?" Enji shifted in his seat. "I think its best if you stay here from now on, so that... your mother and I can look after you." Your eyes widened. "What? Why?" You moved to sit up but then a pain shot through your head. "Ah shit." You hissed in pain as you went to massage your temples but your hands halted at the feeling of your hair... or lack there of. You tried to run a finger through your choppy bob cut, but all you felt was your shaved head. Your eyes met Enji's, looking at him in disbelief as you recalled the events that had led up to this. "Darling-" You jumped off the bed and ran towards the vanity mirror, praying that this is just a nightmare. But as you looked at your reflection, you realised that this was the terrifying reality you were living in.

Tears dripped from your eyes as you took in your appearance. Trimmed- no, shaved pink hair. You couldn't see a single bit of hair above the roots, only a baby pink scalp. She had not only trimmed your hair first but then also proceeded to shave your scalp off. Your head looked like it had peach fuzz.

You couldn't bring yourself to look away, not even when Enji placed a hand on your shoulder. "Y/n-" He didn't even what to say. He was still in shock from what would've happened if Fuyumi hadn't yelled for him when Rei was-

Enji shook his head. Now's not the time. You're here and you're fine. You're fine. Enji pulled you towards him, burying your face in his chest as you cried. "You're fine." He repeated, more to himself than to you. "Why- why would she do this?" Your voice was muffled by his chest but he understood. He understood your pain and it tore him apart that he still wouldn't be able to help you.

Enji honestly didn't know what to tell you. He didn't know what words would bring you comfort. "It... it was an accident." His chest rumbled as he spoke. You pushed yourself away from him as you looked at him perplexed.

"What?" Your eyebrows raised, nostrils flared and blood rushed to your face. You were going to blow up.

"An accident? Is that what you said? Oh okay. Was it an accident when she froze the fucking tub? Did the trimmer accidentally fall from her hands to my head?! Oh and did she accidentally pull the razor over my head?!" Angry tears fell from your eyes but you were far too enraged to care.

Enji opened his mouth to say something but he was cut off by the sound of the bedroom door opening. Turning around you saw her.

Rei was standing there with a tray of food and water. Her face turned to shock before turning to happiness. She set the tray on a nearby table before she rushed towards you, her hands reaching for your face.

"Angel, you're awake-" you pushed her hands away roughly as you backed away from her.

"Dont you dare touch me."

The couple, they had never heard your voice such hostility. It wasn't like you. Rei shook her head as she tried to reach for you again, taking another step in your direction. But you smacked her hands away again. "I said don't touch me!" Your yelling had got your siblings to rush in the room, wanting to see what the commotion was about.

Rei's eyes shifted from you to Enji, looking at him for help, before they returned back to you. She took a deep breath before speaking. "Y/n, darling. What's wrong?" You scoffed at her soft tone that tried to quell the storm of negative emotions bubbling inside you. "What's wrong? What's wrong? I don't know, you tell me, Rei. Why the fuck am I bald?!" Your head was pounding with rage, raw unbridled anger.

When Rei didn't say anything, Fuyumi stepped forward to help her out. "Y/n its-"

"Shut up."

Fuyumi's- everyone's eyes widened. Of everyone, you never even rose your voice at your favourite sibling. But to hear your voice turn so cold towards her, it shocked everyone. "Y-Y/n-" she tried again but you cut her off. "I said shut up. I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Rei and she'll answer for herself."

Enji placed a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back slightly. "Have some respect. She's your mother-" You yanked your shoulder away from his grip. "No, she's not!" You inhaled deeply, trying to stabilise your voice. "No, she's not. You're not my dad. I'm not a part of this family. And I'm so sick of playing this game."

Dabi's eyes narrowed. "Stop being an ungrateful brat. You've been given all the luxuries one could only imagine, spoiled to no end-" You laughed. "Did I ask for anything?" "You never had t-" "And all these luxuries that you're talking about, I didn't get them for free. I had to give up a lot. No, wait-" you laughed again, tears blurring your vision. "I didn't give up anything. You all took it. Yeah, all of you snatched everything away from me. My family, my friends, my privacy, my sanity, everything. And you-" you moved towards Rei, pointing a finger at her. "You have been the most greedy one of them all."

Rei's jaw fell open, as she shook her head. "No-" You shook your head.

"Yes! I gave you everything. I let you dress me up in those god awful clothes, feed me whatever you wanted, stick to your side like glue because you don't like it when I was out of your sight for a more than a few minutes. For fucks sake, I didn't even go to college this year because you weren't ready to see me become an adult!" You ran a frustrated hand through your hair. "I played into your sick little fantasy. I let you treat me like a child, talk to me like I'm some helpless baby. I let you touch me even though it disgusted me to no end. I never even complained when you gave me ice burns because I was throwing a tantrum." You looked at the rest of your family, and they were shocked to hear that last bit. You smiled cruelly at them. "Yeah, you didn't know that did you?"

Rei was crying herself by now, as she reached out for you once again but you moved away. "I let you have everything. All I wanted was this little bit of freedom, for my own sanity. But you couldn't stomach that could you?" Your head hung low, your tears hitting the floor.

"Why do you have to be so selfish?"

Your voice held so much pain and defeat. Rei couldn't help but engulf you in her arms, wrapping herself around you tightly before you could even protest. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She cried out. "I- I promise I'll fix this! Yes. I-I've already gotten you some new hair oils! They say that they'll help you grow 6 inches in a month! Oh and Natsuo also brought some stuff for hair growth! Some vitamins and- Natsuo whats that spray called? Minoxy? Mi-minoxidil! Yes! He said that'll help you grow your hair in no time! Doesn't that sound nice? You'll have long hair like before!" Rei pushed back to look at you. You couldn't believe it.

"Are you- are you really that delusional?" Your voice was so soft, almost like you would break any moment now. "Are you so blind to see what you're doing to me?" Your eyes held so much pain and confusion. "Sweetie, don't worry- mommy will take such good care-" You pushed Rei away from you, your anger rolling back in full speed. "YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER!" You shrieked. "Y/n-" Shotou tried to interject. "I'm not a part of your fucking family."

Enji stepped towards you. "Calm down."

You looked at him. "You said that what happened was an accident. What will you do if another one happens? And you're not around this time to save me? Hmm? What will you do? Continue playing house with my dead body?!"

Rei's sobs shook her body. "Shut up. Think before you say stupid shit like that." Dabi spoke this time, moving to stand between you and his mother. "Or what? You're going to hurt me? More the reason why all of you, but especially you-" you pointed at Rei "deserve to be in that nuthouse-!"

You were on the floor before you could even process what had happened. Had you- had you fallen? But when the searing pain of the burn on your cheek came alive and you looked at his hand that had erupted in blue flames, you realised what had happened.

Dabi slapped you.

"Y/n!"

Your cheek felt like someone had placed a hot iron on it, the sting spreading to your entire cheek, but you were far too shocked to care about the pain.

Dabi slapped me.

Shotou, Natsuo and Fuyumi quickly rushed to your side, picking you up and out of the room, while Dabi stood there in stunned as his own hand throbbed. The image of his handprint branded on your scared face wasn't going to leave his mind anytime soon.

Enji hesitated, looking at his wife and son in disbelief, before leaving the room to look for you.

Rei walked towards Dabi and smacked his arm. "What did you do?!" She yelled at him. He opened his mouth to explain but nothing came out.

"She's your little sister, Touya! W-why would you do that?!" Rei scolded him.

He hurt you. Like Enji hurt Rei.

He hurt you.

Rei sighed before closing her eyes and engulfing Dabi in her arms. "Its okay. Its not your fault." She rubbed his back soothingly. "It was an accident, wasn't it?"

Dabi wrapped his arms around his mother, burying his face in her neck, before nodding.

"Yes. It was an accident."

So... how was it?

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sky-berrie · 3 years

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How would the batboys react to a female SO with Paranoid Personality Disorder?

Hi there!

Thanks so much for the ask. I hope this is okay :)

-Sky

Bruce

As a person living with paranoid personality disorder, you might be terrified that people are out to harm you. Your place of residence, Gotham city, does nothing but exacerbate your paranoid thought patterns, since criminals run rampant through the streets. It’s hard to distinguish between paranoid thoughts and substantiated concerns. Is that sketchy person with the full face covering one of Black Mask’s False Face Society members sent to abduct you, or are they just a conscientious citizen taking extra precautions to avoid contracting or transmitting the COVID virus? Being in a state of constant fear prevents you from living your life to the fullest. Luckily, your S/O happens to be Batman in his free time.

Bruce eases your mind just with his presence. He’s probably the smartest, strongest, and most resourceful person you know and being with him makes you feel safe. Bruce is the kind of person who you’d blindly listen to during an emergency – if he told you to jump out of a burning plane, you’d do it without a second thought because he’s never let you down in the past and you’re confident that he never will in the future. If you’re feeling fearful in public, Bruce will grab your hand or put an arm around you securely and soothingly whisper in your ear that he’s right here and there’s nothing to worry about. Having paranoid thoughts means that it’s difficult to reason with you, so you probably aren’t convinced that there is no threat, but you do experience some relief from his soft touch and gentle words. He’ll ask if you want to leave and he’ll take you to your safe space. If you’re feeling fearful in private, Bruce will hold you close and rub your back to reduce your anxiety. If you’re by yourself and start to have those racing, panicked paranoid thoughts, you can always call Bruce. He’ll drop whatever he is doing and come take care of you.

Bruce will teach you self defense to help you feel more comfortable around people. He won’t arm you with any dangerous weapons because he doesn’t want an innocent person to get hurt if you get spooked. Bruce will ask if you want to move into the manor since it has strong security and comes with several vigilantes. If you would rather stay at your own place, Bruce will install a variety of safety systems to make you feel protected. He’ll even spend most nights at your place so you can sleep peacefully. Overall, Bruce is like your lifeline. He’ll know just what to do to help you through your difficult thoughts.

Dick

Dick is a social butterfly who’s had his fair share of romantic partners in the past so it’s natural for you to feel jealous when he spends time with other people. Dick will adamantly declare that he’s with you and only you. At first you might try to ignore the prickly feeling of jealousy because you don’t want to come off as a possessive S/O, but the clues accumulate and suggest that he’s cheating on you. For example, he’ll rarely spend the night with you. You’ll catch him sneaking into bed at ungodly hours of the morning. When confronted, he’ll make up an excuse that he just went to get a drink of water or use the bathroom. You’ll spot bruises scattered over his chest knowing you definitely did not leave those there. He’ll play it off as a gym injury.

When you raise your suspicions, Dick is hesitant to explain. You take this as confirmation of infidelity and you’re ready to walk out. At that point, he has no choice but to come clean about his secret identity as Nightwing. That sounds farfetched and you likely think he’s a pathological liar. Finally, Dick proves it to you and explains that he didn’t want you to be dragged into his dangerous nightlife. While you accept that as the truth, you’ll always wonder if he’s hiding more secrets. Furthermore, you’re probably pissed that he was gaslighting you. Dick will do everything he can to make it up to you. He’ll apologize profusely and in extravagant ways, be more transparent, and shower you with excessive love and affection. It might take a long time, but eventually Dick will worm his way back into your good graces.

It doesn’t take long for the green-eyed monster to rear its’ ugly head again. Now that you’re in the know, you’re hyperaware of the attractive vigilantes that Dick works with and it’s emotionally draining to be jealous all the time. You don’t want to be the type of person who tries to control their partner’s life, but when the suffering becomes too much to bear, you might ask him to stop seeing certain people. Dick will calmly assure you that there isn’t anything going on with any of his vigilante friends. If that doesn’t appease you, he’ll suggest that you hang out with the team and get to know them. He hopes that you’ll see that there aren’t any romantic feelings between them. Whatever you do, please don’t force him to choose between you and his hero life. It will tear him apart.

Jason

Trust is very important to Jason. He doesn’t trust many people as it is and needs a S/O who he can trust wholeheartedly and who will trust him in return. He believes that this relationship will fail if you don’t have confidence in each other. He’ll take it personally if you distrust him. Jason will get defensive and frustrated if you accuse him of being unfaithful, especially if you don’t have a shred of evidence to support your claims. He’ll be offended and deeply hurt that you think so negatively of him but once he’s had some time to cool off, he’ll be able to process everything more objectively. He’ll accept that you can’t control the way you feel. You’d explained it to him once that you do trust him, but there’s a separate voice in your head that tells you otherwise. Jason won’t give up on you though. He’ll come up with a proposition - he’ll agree to install a tracking app on his phone so you can monitor his whereabouts if you’ll promise to work on learning to trust him, whether it be via professional psychotherapy or reading self-help books.

On the other hand, if Jason is one of the only people you trust, he’ll be elated to know that you two have built such a strong connection. It’ll be easy to confide in him because he’ll gladly listen to your worried thoughts with no judgement. At first, he’ll reassure you that nothing bad is going to happen to you – he’s Red Hood and nobody is going to pull anything on you if they value their life. Eventually he’ll realize that trying to reason with you isn’t helpful so he’ll stick to active listening when you’re experiencing paranoid thoughts.

However, if Jason is fresh out of the pit and emotionally unstable, you two will probably bond over your mutual distrust and cynicism about the world. Although you and Jason will get along exceptionally well, it’s possible that your irrational thoughts may feed each other’s paranoia and exacerbate the feelings of mistrust and suspicion. If you find yourself unable to let things go, feel free to vent away when you’re with Jason. He is the king of holding grudges, so he’ll probably support you and even join in on trash talking that person with you when you’re angry. Learning to forgive and forget is something you and Jason can work on together. In a way, it brings you two closer together since you understand each other on a level that others can’t begin to comprehend.

Tim

Tim very compassionate and patient; however, he’s afraid of triggering you so he’s often walking on eggshells around you. He just wants to be the perfect supportive S/O for you and doesn’t want to mess up the relationship. His worst offense (in your eyes) is using ambiguous language that lends to multiple interpretations. For example, he might innocently compliment your clothes/hair/makeup and you might assume that he only likes you for your appearance or that he’s implying that you’re vain for wanting to look nice. The moment you shoot him daggers, he’s realized his mistake and starts to furiously backpedal. He tries to explain himself, but he usually ends up digging himself a deeper hole. Eventually, he gets better at expressing his thoughts carefully so that they can’t be misconstrued.

Tim diligently tries to learn your other triggers and how to help. When you’re stuck in a cycle of paranoid thoughts, Tim will get you to focus on what’s real instead of trying to make you see sense. He’ll help you relax by walking you through breathing exercises, playing soothing music, or whatever strategies you find helpful.

Tim isn’t proud of this, but he’s resorted to deceiving you when necessary. For instance, if you’re experiencing paranoid thought patterns and want to be alone, Tim will hesitantly leave, but he’ll probably secretly monitor you only because he’s worried about your safety. If you’re afraid that others are reading your mind, he might pretend that he invented an anti-mindreading helmet to ease your suspicions. He knows you would feel betrayed if you ever found out about his dishonesty, but he reasons that your safety and comfort are more important in the moment.

Damian

Arguments with Damian are brutal. No matter how insignificant the disagreement is, Damian refuses to back down when he believes he’s right. Paired with your own stubbornness and contentiousness, these quarrels generally result in an impasse. Eventually your anger subsides and the depression sinks in. You might assume that Damian doesn’t love you anymore and that fight was the end of your relationship. Maybe you start packing your belongings to move out right away. Damian comes up behind you and asks what you’re doing. When you tell him that you’re leaving because he doesn’t want you anymore, he’s instantly remorseful. He takes your bags out of your hands and proceeds to pull you in close as he tells you how much he loves you. He assures you that two people can disagree and still love each other.

Damian doesn’t want to argue with you and he certainly doesn’t want to see you upset so he’ll always excuse himself before the argument becomes too heated. He hopes that some time apart will allow you both to calm down and come to a compromise, but it’s never that simple. Most of the time, you’ll need a third-party mediator, like a therapist, to resolve your dispute. The act of seeking out a therapist will be a huge accomplishment for your relationship. Damian likes his privacy and doesn’t want someone else in his business and you might be afraid to share intimate information with a stranger in fear that it will be used against you. Nevertheless, you both want to make this relationship work, so you’ll continue to seek help.

Damian has a habit of being blunt. He doesn’t mean to criticize or insult you – in his mind, he is only stating the facts or his opinion for the purpose of helping you improve. Despite his goodhearted intentions, it’s easy for you to take his comments the wrong way and perceive it as a personal attack. If he sees that his remarks have upset you, he’ll acknowledge all the positive aspects of your performance. Still, you might cling to the disparaging comments and ignore the praise. Going forward, Damian will try to be more encouraging and constructive and will only express feedback if you invite him to do so.

#batfam headcanons #batfam x y/n #batfam x reader #batboys headcanons #batboys x reader #batboys x y/n #bruce wayne headcanon #dick grayson headcanon #jason todd headcanon #tim drake headcanon #batfamily headcanons #batfamily x y/n #batfamily x reader #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #time drake #Damian Wayne #robinchicklets

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corpsekiller · 3 years

Text

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 — 𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐢

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. gintoki sakata x fem!reader, kagura x fem!reader (platonic)

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. this is so domestic and sweet, nothing bad here except a cold (stay healthy, children!)

𝖲𝖸𝖭𝖮𝖯𝖲𝖨𝖲. kagura is stuck with a cold and you give your best to nurse her back to health. when she accidentally calls you 'mum', gintoki can't help but get a little sentimental about it.

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤. i really liked the idea that kagura might see the reader as a mother figure and let's be real, gin wants an s/o who loves the kids as much as he does. couldn't be me, the only kids I voluntarily take care of are my younger siblings and i would legitimately murder for them 😀

𝖫𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖳𝖧. 1.617 words

MASTERLIST

A tottering whimper escapes Kagura’s chapped lips at the cooling sensation of the damp washcloth you gently press to her heated forehead while you wipe the feverish sweat glistening on her temples with the long sleeve of your patterned yukata, gingerly caressing her flushed cheeks to provide some kind of comfort in these long hours that seems to be unbearable for her at times.

Carefully, you clean her reddened nose and throw the snotty tissue into the trash can across the room just as another throaty cough rips through her weakened body. Calm hands fiddle with a loose strand of her hair before pulling the fluffy blanket up to her chin and planting a reassuring kiss to the tips of her freezing fingers. "It's going to be alright, sweetheart. I'm going to take good care of you as long as you need."

No one could have prepared Kagura for this hell. Sore throat, the ache in her chest that grows with every shaky breath she tries to take, the steady trembling of her limbs despite feeling like she might catch fire any damn second. She absolutely hates this and a part of her already regrets her miserable life choices.

Although she still hears your words, still remembers very clearly how you advised her to stay at home until the storm had passed because you already predicted she would catch a cold, Kagura refused to listen and fussed around instead. Stomped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest with an evident pout, much like you did when you were her age and things just didn’t go your way. Ah yes, the struggles of a teenage girl.

‘Yato can’t get sick,’ she told you with a lopsided grin, only offered you a lazy wave as she ran through the door, right into the rain with Sadaharu by her side and her cute purple umbrella carelessly thrown over her shoulders.

Unsurprisingly and despite her utterly naive conviction that she couldn’t get sick, she came home hours later with chattering teeth and wet clothes clinging to her drenched body like a second skin, crying over the biting wind and her missing parasol while you hastily gathered a bunch of clean towels to dry her off and warm her up, hoping to prevent any sickness.

Obviously, you failed.

Now, Kagura is buried under a pile of soft pillows and warm blankets for the third day, stuck in bed with a high fever, a nasty cough, and a runny nose. Occasionally, she manages to groan something about dying and hallucinating floating bowls of rice with eggs until her voice gives out, forces her to stop babbling nonsense and exhaustion finally sweeps her into a deep slumber again.

“Oi! I wouldn’t get near that snotty beast, you are going to get sick too,” Gin calls out, leaning against the wooden door frame with a sterile white mask covering his nose and mouth, definitely supposed to protect him from whatever Kagura caught in the rain a few days ago.

“Shut up, Gin. Someone has to look after her and if your dramatic ass can’t do that, then I will.” You roll your eyes at him and cautiously set the glass of fresh water he gives you together with a tray of cookies next to Kagura’s bed before getting up, cursing under your breath at the cracking of your joints and your sore muscles stretching after sitting on the floor in the same position for nearly two hours, keeping Kagura company and even reading her bedtime stories with so much dedication. Gin couldn’t help but listen too from where he was seated on the couch. “Geez, my knees... I’m getting old.”

After casting one last glance at her sleeping form, you grab your boyfriend by the collar of his black shirt and drag him into the living room, grinning maliciously at his yelps and curses as he desperately tries to escape your iron grip. Disregarding his mask with clever fingers, you quickly shut him up with a gentle kiss on the lips.

“I can’t sleep, Y/N,” Kagura mumbles meekly as she stumbles through the door only an hour later, crossing the room to plop into the cushions of the couch you’re currently sitting on with a hoarse cough. Her eyes are already fluttering close and she slumps against your shoulder in exhaustion, barely able to stay awake much longer than necessary.

The short distance from her bed to you drained her of all energy and you know it’s only a matter of time until she falls back to sleep again, even if she doesn’t want to. So you move your hands around her tense back to steady her, in case she might tumble to the floor when she finally loses consciousness.

“Why is the room spinning so much?” You huff at her confusion, gently tuck her down and rest her head in your lap. Brushing a few strands of vermillion hair out of her pale face, you offer her a small smile filled with affection that seems to brighten your eyes with a reassuring glimmer.

“Don’t worry, you’re just tired. You can stay here with us, I’ll keep you safe.” It’s an unspoken promise with a meaning that weighs heavy on your shoulder, but you carry it anyway. A promise now etched into your tongue to never be broken and you’re sure, you couldn’t bear to break it anyway — to take care of her and always be by her side, no matter what life throws your way.

Because she’s your friend and you love her unconditionally and deep down, you know, she’s somehow awakened your maternal instinct to look out for her — this little girl that just decided to follow Gintoki around and live with him and Shinpachi, with her inhuman strength and her kind heart and her power to conquer even the most guarded heart.

“Thanks, mum,” she slurs, almost inaudible in the delirious state of her jumbled thoughts as she drifts off to sleep and nuzzles her face into your stomach, slender fingers weakly gripping the soft fabric of your yukata as if she fears you might disappear any moment and leave her all alone like so many did before.

Gin, who has been pretending to be reading his magazine, freezes at her words. Just stops turning the page of his shonen jump, maroon eyes locked on one of the drawn panels and the tiny black letters printed in various speech bubbles whilst his brain finally recognizes what exactly Kagura just called you.

Slowly, he lifts his gaze to look at you, scared and quite curious of your own reaction to her words, because he’s not going to lie — he’s equally surprised and excited and maybe, maybe he already knew how much you meant to the kids, knew that your caring nature might have a bigger impact on them as you assume, but hearing that single word? Hearing that word slip out of Kagura’s mouth when she feels the most helpless and broken makes his stomach lurch into his chest in adoration.

Pride and joy surge through every inch of his being, from the tips of his toes to the end of his hair at the sight of you, so utterly shocked, flushed cheeks and wide eyes filled with hot tears threatening to spill any moment. “Did you...?” You stare at the young girl sleeping soundly on your thighs, unbelieving, wondering if you caught a cold too and this is just the result of the fever that causes you to hallucinate such wonderful things.

“I heard it, too.” His smile is surprisingly soft when he gets up from his place, jump magazine still open on the page he wanted to read, lying on the table he’s rounding with one, two steps until he stops right in front of you.

A calloused hand cups your jaw, gently tilts your head up to meet his lips in a sweet kiss, only pulling away to catch his breath and lean his forehead against yours. With a matching grin, you both gaze down at Kagura sleeping soundly in your lap, knees curled to her chest and face hidden in your clothes.

Though, this peaceful moment only lasts a few minutes. With a hand clasped tightly over his mouth, Gin jumps back and almost trips over the table in the process, manages to get away from you just in time before the nasty coughing fit shakes through his entire body and makes it unpleasantly hard to get another gasp of air.

He croaks out a string of foul curses, eyes widened in absolute horror as the realization finally hits him like a pirate ship crashing down from the sky in full speed. "Really? I've been near that kid for only two minutes and I'm the one getting sick?!" A crooked finger points at Kagura, accusatory and deathly and—

Gintoki sniffles and falls back into the couch to fling himself over the cushions in a dramatic pose that could have come straight out of a shonen magazine, in which the cool sidekick dies dramatically to move the storyline. "My time has come," he groans hoarsely and closes his eyes, obviously taking his last breath of air. "I have sacrificed myself for this child and now I must die to save the world. Goodbye, Y/N."

A giggle tumbles from your lips, lighthearted and amused at his silly antics. "You’re just exaggerating all over again, Gin... I promise I’ll take good care of you too.” The flirtatious wink you throw him brings a deep flush to his cheeks, one that not even he can hide. Oh, how he can’t wait to have you as his personal nurse.

#gintama #gintama imagine #gintama gintoki #sakata gintoki #sakata gintoki fic #sakata gintoki imagine #sakata gintoki x reader #gintoki x reader #kagura #kagura x reader

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lazuli-bloom · 3 years

Text

Gas Station Souvenir

Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count : 3868

General fiction, first meeting

You work a few shifts at a shitty gas station off the interstate only to have something follow you.

--=--=--

Creeping darkness snuffed out the remnants of sunlight, and the twilight hours did not flatter that rundown gas station. Ignored grime fermented in the corners. The air carried the harsh scent of chemical cleaners and the pungent odors they failed to mask. The gas station sat cut off from society and seeping in growing shadows. It invoked a buzz of disquiet at the edge of your thoughts. It’s a place where it’s best to keep stops brief. Where the longer one stayed there, the stranger the place became.

But there you were, skulking the aisles of an eerie gas station. Dressed in clothes that could use a wash, with a name-tag pinned to your hoodie.

You needed money, and this place let you pick up a few shifts. They payed cash and didn’t ask too many questions, which was right up your alley. The pay wasn’t anything to write home about. Then again, nothing warranted contact with that lot.

Two weeks of shifts would bankroll you across a few more states. Your first day came with a warning from the full-time clerk training you; if you see anything strange, or unusual, ignore it. Pretend like you never saw it. Also, to stay away from the raccoons. The ones near the gas station were a lot meaner than most.

For most of your shifts, that was a rule you stuck to. It was a good rule to have. One that you really should follow. But on your last shift at the gas station, you broke that rule.

It was late into that last shift where yours overlapped with the night cashier. Running out of things to do, you started cleaning up the counters. You didn’t think you’d make much headway with cleaning, but it helped pass the time.

You reached the coffeepot’s counter and got to cleaning. Empty sugar and creamer packets all discarded into the trash. Amid wiping down spills, you noticed an oddity wedged between containers. A simple business card.

Unease urged you to leave it alone. Throw away the card and forget about it. That would be the smart decision. However, curiosity had other plans. It drove you to pick it up and look the card over. It was a business card, after all. How strange could that really be?

The card’s yellowed paper frayed at the corners. It advertised the services of a “Bio-Exorcist” but had no contact information. The only other detail was an unusual word printed three times. Not much to go off of.

You meander to the front counter, trying your damnedest to decipher that word.

“Beh-tel... Gi-use?” the syllables came out more like a question. A question that caught the attention of the full-time cashier. He glanced up from his book and asked what you said. “Just trying to read this.”

He sat down his book to look over the card.

“Bio-Exorcist? Like some kind of pest control? We have a few guys come in occasionally and do what they can, but the bugs and mice always come back. And snakes.”

“Weird way to phrase it. Maybe they’re trying to make it sound fancy? But that’s not what stumped me, it’s the word on there three times. You know what that says?”

“It’s a star in Orion.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve come across it a few times in some of the sci-fi novels I’ve read. It’s pronounced like Beetle-Juice.”

A frigid breeze chilled the two of you mere moments after he answered your question. Both of you turned to the front door, expecting a customer walking in and letting in the cool night air. But there was nothing. He handed you back the card and picked his book up.

“You should just throw that card away and forget about it.”

You want to ask why, but the question dies in your throat. You already knew why. Ignore the strange. Pretend it isn’t there, so it doesn’t cause you trouble. That hitchhiker you passed by several times and never saw him in the rear-view mirror? He seemed alright on his own. The lady at the shitty motel chilling the air on her way passed you to the pool? She obviously wanted to go swimming. That man you saw crawling on the ceiling during your stint here. None of your business. They had their problems, and you had your own.

Still, there was something nagging at you whenever you looked at the card. Something. Was it actually a something? Your burning curiosity? It almost felt as if it was someone telling you to keep the card, at least for a little while longer.

Once your co-worker was back to reading his novel, you looked over the card one more time. You mutter under your breath the name of the star, only to shiver when another strange rush of cold air crashed over you. You slip the card into your hoodie’s pocket and head to a spot of the gas station that wouldn’t give you chills.

The rest of your shift trudged along slower and slower. The closer to your freedom it got, the slower the seconds crept by. Customers became sparse, not helping stop time from dragging its feet. The only thing that you could do to pass the time was to keep up the futile effort of cleaning the counters. That and keep tabs on the one guy lingering in the gas station.

Said guy looked to be another of the ignore and forget them variety. His appearance alone was enough of a tipoff. Dirty suit in a black and white stripe pattern matched oddly with messy green hair. What hit home the message of “mind your own business” was the fact that you caught a glance of the guy gliding through the shelves. Nope. You may have been struggling to find things to do, but dealing with whatever Mr. Stripe Suit was up to was out of your pay grade.

Finally, the end of your shift was upon you. You took off your name tag and slammed it down on the counter to get the cashier’s attention. A grin plastered your face as you turned over the name tag. You asked for your pay, and he handed you your money. You count it to yourself before stuffing it into your pocket. Once all squared away, you waved him a quick farewell.

“Have fun with the stripe suit guy, He’s been looking at all the garbage snacks on the shelves for the past hour,” You mention maybe a little louder than you should have. But you weren’t sticking around, so who cares?

You get out to your car, where there were thankfully no raccoons trying to eat your tires, and hop in. It may have been getting late, but you wanted to at least get a few towns over before you stop at a motel for that night.

The motel you came across was on the cheaper end, but it was “good enough”. You quickly got your room squared away and after a sweep of the room you got into the shower. Once you got out, the air seemed to be colder than you expected it to be. You got your pajamas on and ended up putting your hoodie back on to keep some of the chill off you.

Stuffing your hands into your hoodie’s pocket, your fingers brush up against some worn paper. You take out the thing and look it over, instantly recalling what it was you were holding. The weird business card.

“Such a weird spelling to end up pronounced as Beetlejuice.”

A draft of cool air blew by and you shiver. You huff and go check the a/c, expecting it to be dialed unbearably low. However, you find the stupid thing turned off. You scowl and turn up the heat.

It kicks on with a struggle, but once it gets going you take a seat on the bed. You him to yourself and shift attention back to the card. Why did you even pocket this? Curiosity? Somewhat, but you’ve been curious about countless things before. A strange souvenir? You never collected oddities before, why start now?

Your eyes scan over the words one more time, this time reading the card out loud.

“For the bio-exorcist, call; Betelgeuse,”

Another breeze of cool air got you shivering again. Stupid heater needed to warm the room faster.

“Betelgeuse,”

Another draft, this time accompanied by the lights in the room flickering. Maybe this hotel wasn’t as “good enough” as you previously thought.

“Betelgeuse.” The lights buzzed loud as the last syllable passed your lips, and the next instant all the lights went out.

You grit your teeth and voice your complaints to no one. “Oh, come the fuck on!” You heave out a growl and get up to check out the window. With your luck, your room would be the only one with the electrical issues.

You march a few steps to the window when you heard a gravelly laugh, way too close for comfort. A chill shot down your spine. You whip around to see who was there but only find yourself in the inky darkness of the hotel room. Not even the outlines of the furniture stood out in the dark.

You ball your hands into fists, not planning to go down without a fight. Body shaking, you scan over the room, staining your eyes to find anything. You grit your teeth and bark out, “Who’s there?”

The reply didn’t come as a proper response, just more laughing, right up next to your ear.

You spin and bring your fist up to get as much force behind your punch as possible. You swing blindly, only able to use the sound to aim. And to both your relief and dismay, your fist connects with something cold and scratchy.

The lights flick on the next second, allowing you to see a man in stumbling back a few steps away from you as he cupping his cheek. You look him over and can’t shake the notion you’ve seen him before. Pale skinned and dark rings under his eyes with the green in his hair extending down into his stubble. There was also that ratty old coat that he wore over a monochrome striped suit.

Your brows knit as you piece together why his appearance looked familiar, and when it finally clicked, you took a step back. Shock surged in a fleeting moment, replaced swiftly by raising your guard once more. Your hands still clenched into tight fists, you demand to know who the hell he even is.

“Geez, babes, didn’t expect you’d be so punchy,” he laughed as he stood upright, still rubbing the side of his face. “not that I’m complaining.”

Your glare narrows as you try to not react to his flirtatious tone.

“Answer me.”

“You already know my name,” he said, taking his hand away from his face. He leaned forward with a grin spread across his face showing off sharp yellowed teeth. “You’re the one that summoned me after all.”

“Summoned? But I didn’t... wait. The card?”

“Yep. Said my name three times, spoken unbroken. And now I’m here.”

“You. You were at the gas station a few towns back. Who, or what are you?”

“Gotta say babes, kinda rude to only acknowledge me right as you leave. But I’m willing to forgive ya for that since you summoned me~”

“You didn’t answer my question. What are you?”

His grin faltered, likely due to you ignoring his flirtations. He must have wanted to get a rise out of you.

“I’m a demon. The ghost with the most and the best Bio-Exorcist out there!”

“So you’re a demon, ghost.... bio-exorcist?”

“Yep!”

The bright smile on his face alongside his cheerful tone threw you more than you expected it to. He looked so happy and excited at that moment. If he hadn’t just admitted to being a demon, ghost... bio-exorcist, you might have thought he was rather cute.

“I guess the demon-ghost thing explains why the first thing you did was try to scare the shit out of me.”

“You give quite the warm welcoming yourself babes, with that punch to my face.” There didn’t seem to be any anger in his gravelly voice. Something you took notice of was how the lighting in the hotel room made the green in his hair look more pink on the ends than you thought it should.

You press your lips into a tight line and cross your arms. After a moment of looking him up and down, trying to figure out the strange demon’s motive, you give up and just ask him. “So then Mr. Demon, what now? You wanting to get my soul or something?”

“Nope, nothing like that. You read my card, says right on it I’m a bio-exorcist.”

“That like pest control?”

“Pretty much, get all the breathers out of places so the ghosts there can relax.”

“You going to run me out of my motel room then?” you ask with a pointed glare, “’Cause I swear to god I’ll send your ass back to hell if you so much as try me.”

You weren’t sure what kind of reaction you were expecting from the demon, maybe a haughty display of power or aggression. It certainly wasn’t a purr with hooded eyes.

“So much fight and fire in ya! I like that.”

The growl in his voice when he said that made blood rush to your face. Damn this flirtatious bastard. He took your moment of shock to step closer.

“You don’t have to worry ‘bout that baby. You seem like fun. I won’t do anything, unless you want me to~”

You shake your head and regain some composure. You heave out a deep breath and take a step back. The fire on your face still burned, but you did your best to ignore it.

“How about this, Mr. Demon, pretend like this whole thing never happened? I go my way, and you go where ever to help as many ghosts as you want.”

This guy was full of surprises. You gave him a free pass to go bother as many others as he wanted and not have to put up with you. He should have been overjoyed. Instead he looked deflated, and weirder was you caught blue and purple seep into his hair.

“So soon? Bet we just started hanging out! Come on, we can be BFFFFs Forever!”

You searched his face for any sign of lying, anything to tip you off he wasn’t being genuine. That search came up empty. Furrowed brows, the stare of a hurt puppy, and blue taking over more and more of his once green hair.

“You... actually want to be friends?” you ask more to yourself than him, “I don’t think I’d be pleasant company.”

He tilted his head. At least the blue stopped spreading. That didn’t seem to be a color that suited him.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why wouldn’t you be pleasant company?”

You glance away, a bit thrown by the question. Maybe more by the tone of his voice, still rough and scratchy, but confused. And you could have sworn there was a trace of hurt softening his voice, but you might just be imagining that one.

He waited for an answer, and the longer you waited, the more it made you fidget. Shifting your weight from one foot to the other. He genuinely wanted to know your reason. Just get it over with, then he’ll finally leave and not want to hang around you.

You take in a deep breath and straighten up, holding yourself with strength and confidence. Qualities that you couldn’t fake well enough to even look him in the eye when you explained yourself.

“I don’t stick around anywhere for any more than a month. I don’t make friends, or keep in contact with anyone, I just keep moving. It’s better if I’m alone, that way nobody has to put up with me for very long.”

His head stayed tilted, like he still didn’t quite understand. Or maybe he did and wanted to know more. Either way, his expression stayed soft with brows knit quizzically. For a demon, he looked kinda cute.

You tap your foot and keep your gaze off him. This was stupid. Were you actually going to tell this Betelgeuse guy about your problems? Hopefully, he’ll get the picture and leave once you do. You bite your lip and heave out a drawn-out sigh.

“It’s hard to be around people for long stretches of time. Always being judged and have to walk on eggshells. Otherwise, I end up pissing off everyone for just wanting to be me. I got sick of not meeting stupidly high standard and left.

“There, happy? I’m just some annoying mortal, that can’t fit in. I’d rather not pal around with a demon only to end up pissing you off too. It’s easier if I’m alone.”

There was a silence between you and Betelgeuse. Your hands grip tighter on your arms as you wait for his reaction. Was he finally going to leave? Maybe he’ll try some trick on you before he does. You close your eyes, waiting. Still, there was only silence.

You chance a look up at him and find some blur rushing you. There wasn’t time to move, and you ended up with arms wrapped tight around your body. Before you had the chance to squirm out of the demon’s clutches, he pressed you tight against himself. His body was on the cooler side of what a body temperature should be. There was a unique odor to him as well. A variety of scents mixed; mold, mildew, dust, rot, but the strongest of them was damp earth.

“I knew I was going to like you!”

“Since when?” you ask, still squirming in his hug. He didn’t seem likely to let go of you soon. But that wouldn’t stop you from trying to at least get your arms a bit more freed up.

“When you punched me~”

His sing-song tone with a slight purr was not the tone you expected. Especially when bringing up the subject of you decking him in the face.

Your brain tried to process all the information you’ve got, but it was getting bogged down with too much weird things. You open your mouth to say something, but the words never come.

“So, babes!” Betelgeuse chirped, “What’s the plan? Cross Country road trip? See all the landmarks and weird roadside stops? Scare all the breathers from coast to coast?”

“You seriously want to tag along with me? My life is a train wreck. I can barely scrape by for myself most of the time.”

“Good thing I’m dead. I don’t need to eat. Or sleep. Plus~”

He leaned back and snapped his fingers. Odd, considering his arms didn’t budge from their hold on you.

At the snap the lights flickered once more, this time accompanied by all the furniture not bolted down, raising up to float. You turn your head as much as you can to look over the room. The mattress, table, chair, microwave. Hell, the bathroom door that was barely on its hinges rose and floated with all the other things.

Betelgeuse flicked his hand down and everything came crashing down to the ground with a loud clattering. You had the microwave’s rough landing in your line of sight. It landed on its corner, and that door flew off. You’re going to have to hide that later.

“I can help with that ‘barely scraping by’ thing.”

“How?”

“The finer points can wait, let’s just say I wouldn’t exactly get caught if I take something I like.”

Stealing. Got it. You groan and rack your brain to process all this. This demon-ghost seems very adamant about sticking with you. Not sure if that’s a great reflection on yourself. But regardless, you haven’t exactly had a lot of prolonged contact or socialization in a while. Maybe... ?

“Alright. You can stick with me. At least for a few weeks or something.”

The next thing you knew, your feet were off the ground. Air rushed over you as the room spun. Your feet were back on solid ground a moment later. As your brain was struggling to catch up, he pushed you backward. You latch on to Betelgeuse’s shoulders to keep from falling. His face came in close, planting a kiss before you could even react.

Your lips stayed shut tight as your cheeks burned. When he pulled you upright, you push against Betelgeuse with all your strength. Finally, you broke out of his hug.

He had a stupidly bright grin on that adorably punch-able scruffy face of his. You wipe off your mouth rather roughly before shooting him a glare. You head to the bathroom, where the door lay on the ground. Stepping over it, you grab your toothbrush and brush your teeth.

Betelgeuse peeked in for a moment and frowned when he saw what you were doing. He didn’t linger though, and at first you wondered what he could be up to, only to hear the TV blaring.

You drag your feet out of the bathroom and swipe the remote from the spot beside him on the bed. You thought about just turning it off, but decide to just turn the sound down before handing the remote back.

“I’m only staying here the one night and plan on getting up early to leave. Don’t care what you do so long as you keep it down and let me sleep.”

“You need me to sleep next to ya and keep the nightmares away~?”

“I though you said you didn’t sleep.”

“Don’t need to, but I can. And I’m willing to if I had a pretty little thing like you in my arms while I did.”

“I kick and roll in my sleep, also steal blankets. Doubt it would be comfortable. Seems like causing trouble for the other people here would be the more fun option for you,” you said as you turn off the lights. The one closest to the bed you left for last. You pull up the covers and crawl into bed before turning that light off too. “I might get a room with two queen beds next time, though.”

You yank the sheets out from being tucked in and quickly wrap yourself up in them. You bid him a goodnight, and he says one back. The room got quiet, and it seemed like he was actually going to keep it down so you could sleep. The TV buzzed softly with some show playing and your breathing slowed as you drifted to sleep. You were all snuggled up tight in the blankets, just about to plunge into the darkness of sleep. And the last thing you are half made aware of was an arm snake over your waist.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #musical beetlejuice x reader #I chose to edit this instead of sleeping #my writing

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lethargicsunlight · 3 years

Text

'Demon' Chapter 10 : "Respite" Bakugou x Fem!Reader (book 1)

Find the other chapters here! LINK

I usually don't post chapter summaries, but this is essentially just glimpses where you've been inserted into certain moments before and during the exams, right before summer.

Because we all know, summer is where the fun really starts >:)

Book Summary: A slow-burn action/romance where you begin in the bowels of a Villain base and rise up to join U.A.'s top Hero Class. This life was your choice. In the event of learning then losing the love of a friend, you make a decision that changes your reality at the core--to become an imposter among villains and bring them down from the inside out. The organization that ruined your premature perfect life was known as H.H., after their leader Head-Honcho. His crime of choice: intelligence. Training and conducting espionage agents and assassins across Japan as a means to further the dark underground network. Your training began at thirteen, after managing to impress the multi-faced villain with your stealth and your conviction. Rumors would soon spread through the dark alleys of Naruhata City of a masked assassin known as Demon, whose bare face could steal the souls of her targets. Everything appears to be going to plan; but the Hero Agencies you've been slipping information to are calling for an end to your superior sooner than you had anticipated. Your time as 'Demon' is limited. What will happen when your world comes crashing down? Where will you go, when everything you had known you helped to destroy?

WARNINGS: SFW, Alcohol, PTSD themes

•·················•·················•👹🖤⛓🔪💣•·················•·················•

You found yourself falling into a pattern at the end of each day when you were alone in the dorm.

At first, you had barely touched it. You slept stiffly beneath the clean sheets, dressed in whatever extra clothes Nezu had left for you. There was a desk they had brought in for you to complete homework upon, notebooks, pens, highlighters, tape, a stapler..

But it was bereft of personal belongings. After all, you had none.

However, as the rate of time began to pick up around you and the days slid by instead of dragged; you had learned to adapt. You looked forward to your lessons and your classmates; learning and experiencing the world in ways you had never expected to be privy to. Slipping into conversations, learning how to compliment and receive such, navigating the challenges set by your teachers--and your favorite--appearing next to that bewildered ash blonde that wished you ''would just go off and die already!".

Now, as the air cooled and the color of the room shifted from amber to pale cerulean; you turned the desk lamp on and tore out a piece of notebook paper. You pulled some pencils and pens out from the box they had left you with, and started drawing.

The first picture you had drawn was a smiling portrait of your foster-brother; which was now taped up in the center of the wall opposite your bed. Around it, your had begun to tape up pictures of your class mates. Moments and memories of them, what small bits in your mind that were free of memorized school work. You could let them out then, unto the paper, to be immortalized in lead strokes and ink stains.

You even kept one of Nezu, sketched one evening after he had arrived with a teacher by the name of Midnight, asking for preferences concerning toiletries. One day, you promised, you would show him your appreciation. The drawing was there to remind you, just like they all were.

Today was an image of Sato and Shoji, who had worked with you during practical training. Between Sato's immense strength and Shoji's unusual anatomy, you were able to practice some interesting evasive maneuvers. Due to knowing you weren't in a life or death situation, you had found it difficult at first to tap into your skill set since starting at U.A.; but with every class, it got easier. The muscle memory that had been buried so deep beneath repressed images of the Cistern could resurface, and it felt almost as natural as scaling through the alleys of Naruhata.

Almost.

----

"If there are any details in particular you would like for your Hero equipment, please describe in the boxes below:"

You stare at the packet with disdain in your eyes.

I want my old uniform back..

But, as Kirishima might say: 'It's not very heroic.'

True enough. But black hid well in the shadows, and the idea of going without a mask made you feel sick. Despite how you may have hated being 'Demon', you missed the comfort of something pressed to your face--a shield between you and the outside.

Already you could tell this was going to take all night. Nezu had left it in a manila folder beneath the door of your dorm while you had been out training, with instructions to hand it over to Aizawa the following day.

You heave a sigh, moving to sit at the end of your bed, eyes finding the sketch of your foster brother on the opposite wall. His chartreuse hair had been colored in with a vibrant highlighter.

"I think.. I think I'll be something like.. Star Man! Or.. The Blazing Star!" He thrusts his arms in the air, excited, and so loud you slightly cover your ears.

"Sorry," He says quickly, hands touching your wrists. "I was just excited."

"S'okay." You smile, hands returning to your lap.

"Hmm.. What do you want your name to be?" He asks, pulling out his notebook.

"Oh.. Uh.."

"Hey, it's no rush or anything. I can give you some ideas if you want!"

"Okay."

"Let's see.. You'll be really fast and super quiet.. Bullet trains are like that! Ah, but I guess that's not really girly though."

You giggle, shaking your head. "Those are too fast!"

"Of course that's the part you're worried about. It's just for show, it doesn't have to be all that realistic." He muses, flipping through the pages and finding his old 'how to make y/n a hero' notes.

"Hey, if you use those ninja stars like in the video game--you could be Ninja Star! My sister-hero!"

You giggle again, but give him a tight nod. "That one's cool."

Too bad shuriken weren't your ranged weapon of choice.

The memory makes you smile though.

You start with what you knew; describing the intricacies of your old uniform's functions--the soles of your boots, the gloves, how you preferred the fabric. You would need utility belts or some of other form of storage. A hood.

Fortunately, working under the H.H. Organization had made you pretty familiar with the intricacies of hero equipment; though it was usually built to accommodate quirks. Ironic, however, considering technology could replicate the usefulness of less flashy quirks--like your dim-light enhancers in your old mask. It almost felt wrong to ask for it, but you do anyway.

But, then.. As you pencil in the last bit of that information, you were once again stuck. Who did you want to be?

----

"Are you sure?"

You look up at Aizawa, who's fingers gripped the edges of the packet you had given him. He was reading through it, and at the top was your requested Hero name.

You nod, "Yes sir."

------

Sting casually crosses his arms while he leans into the bar, eyeing up the new recruits.

"I'm calling them my Vanguard.." Shigaraki announces, lips drawn in a large chapped grin. "I have to say, I'm pretty impressed with those.. Intelligence gathering skills you possess."

Sting mirrors his grin, giving him a respectful nod. "Of course. I told you, I don't disappoint."

When the strange man-child returns to his new 'friends', Sting inwardly cringes. What had originally been an advantageous relationship had suddenly turned sour--when Kurogiri managed to find his still bleeding body in the abandoned office building.

Now, he owed them.

"Sting." Kurogiri calls him, and the mutant wants to groan.

"Yeah?"

"There's something else we need you to investigate." As though in preparation for his next few words, he slides a glass over to him. His usual order had been vodka.

Surprise surprise. Sting looks at the glass before taking it, mandibles briefly separating from his cheeks as he takes a drink. After it clinks against the bar top:

"What is it?"

----

The written exam came and went. Your Hero Costume was still in development, but you collaborated with Aizawa and managed to find something suitable for the practical. You convinced him that black sweats and similar top would be fine, and once again went in without weapons.

Though surprisingly, you had passed the practical exam alongside Hagakure and Shoji; using his distraction and her invisibility to incapacitate pro-hero Snipe. It was the first time you had ever truly collaborated with someone rather than ordering lackeys about, so you let them lead the way. You were tasked with removing his weapons while Hagakure safely placed the cuffs on his wrists unseen--it was a smooth success.

"Hey, you guys did great!" Midoriya exclaims, turning on his heel as you walked into the viewing room.

"Thanks," Shoji cuts in first, just behind you. You manage to satisfy with a simple nod and smile.

"We were so cool!" Hagakure's gloves present the idea she has both arms in the air to emphasize her excitement.

Despite the rising spirits of your classmates due to the victory, you couldn't help the swelling of apprehension in your chest. You moved up to stand next to Midoriya as the large screen flickered and followed Mina and Kaminari into a maze-like industrial area. Not too different from the Industrial Park where you had met the boy on your right.

It actually weighed on you a little, knowing Kirishima had not passed his practical exam. You almost wanted to see him, but he wasn't around at the moment--probably with Bakugou somewhere. Usually, that's where you would want to be.. But watching the following matches interested you too much. You wanted to see the Pro-heroes in action. You wanted to see the abilities of your classmates up close, outside of sparring.

"You're fighting All Might." You say it, more so than ask it.

Midoriya glances over at you and hums in agreement before his big eyes focus on the screen again. There was something about your quiet that felt conflicting to him. It was comforting, in the way that you wouldn't push boundaries; but also unsettling. He usually chalked that up to your 'quirk' though.

You don't ask if he's made a plan yet. That was a moot point. There was a reason Midoriya was here and Bakugou wasn't.

"I think you'll do great."

Midoriya's surprised by your encouragement. He'd received it from Ururaka and Iida already, but hearing it from you was staggering. Not that he would ever describe you as unkind, but you were certainly reserved. You said little in class, and ever since you had begun sitting with Kaachan and Kirishima at lunch, he'd barely heard from you.

He supposed to was nice to know his childhood friend wasn't rubbing off on you.

"Thank you." He says it in a way that mirrors your sincerity, and succumbs to the silence afterward.

Later, you quietly congratulate both Ururaka and Iida as they pass their exams, giving them more of Midoriya's space. You hadn't doubted them.

When it finally came time and Midoriya left for his own practical exam, you could feel the room grow tense. Hardly a word was said, and you caught the nervous fidgets between Ururaka and Recovery Girl. Even Iida seemed to hold his breath.

----

The screen lit up with explosion after explosion after explosion.. Some gritted their teeth, others were sweating as though they could feel the boys' exhaustion for themselves.

You appeared calm, but your hands were in fists too.

Failing the exam didn't mean the end of the world. But knowing how it would crush their hearts, you hoped and cheered for them inwardly--just like you had during the Sports Festival.

If anyone could defeat the impossible, it was them.

And, seeing as their opponent was the Symbol of Peace, All Might, Number One--that felt like a pretty impossible circumstance, weights or no.

Earlier, in light of Ururaka's questioning, Recovery Girl had given a bit of commentary that interested you. That Midoriya viewed All Might as a God, as someone that was above everything. What would you do, if you had to fight All Might?

To the likes of you, he certainly seemed like a God.

But then, watching Bakugou give himself out against his opponent--going past his limits to the point of unconsciousness--and allowing his comrade to finish the goal (after retrieving him of course, because it was Midoriya); you feel a spark ignite.

Heroes never give up, no matter how bad it gets!

And so, neither would you. Even if you had to fight All Might.

Because you were a hero now.

----

"Awe maaan!" Kirishima wails, shoulders drooping. You stop when you make it up next to him, letting the other students pass by, all heading home with big smiles and chatting about plans for the summer. Aizawa had announced there would be a Summer Camping trip that would include specialized hero training--and those that failed the exam would have even more training, since they were 'obviously lacking'. Kirishima being one of them.

Your heart went out to him. In your mind, he deserved better--but lessons must still be learned. Though, you wondered how 'fair' your exam had been, considering it was the only one with a three versus one ratio.

"I mean, don't get me wrong-" He continues talking, already aware you weren't going to respond--"I'm glad I'm still going to the camping trip n' all, but.. Those extra classes are going to be killer. And I'm kinda embarrassed."

"That's what you get for not listening to my advice." Bakugou chimes in, hands in his pockets as he slows as well. "You better pick yourself back up Shittyhair!"

"Yeah, I know.." He says, still a little glum. "But hey, at least we get a few days off. What are you guys gonna be doing?"

"Tch. Training."

"Of course you are. But you can't do that all the time." Kirishima gives him an apathetic look before turning his attention back on you. "What about you, huh? I bet there's a lot of stuff you've wanted to do since getting out of.. That place."

Put on the spot, you meagerly glance at the dorms out ahead of you. Really, you hadn't thought about it. You were still taking days one at a time.

You choose to say something cheeky to avoid the subject.

A shrug, "Probably just training."

"Whaat?" Kirishima huffs, "You're kidding right? You both are."

Bakugou gives you a very narrowed-eye glare. "You just said that because I said that. Stop being a Creep, Twinkle-toes." He gruffs, then starts walking again.

"Wha--Bakugou was that really--hey, where are you going?"

"Home, duh. I'm done talking, I have things I gotta do."

He saw through you. The thought makes you smile, despite the situation. "Honestly Kirishima," you start back up again, after the blonde was far enough out of earshot. "I haven't thought about it. The girls mentioned getting together but.. I'm taking things one day at a time."

"Yeah, I get it." He rubs the back of his neck, shaking his head and smiling at the disappearing image of his friend at the gate of U.A.. "If you need anything though, let me know okay? Any of us really. You have our numbers right?"

You nod, "Thanks."

"Anytime. Later!" He gives a little wave and starts walking again, eventually joining up with a nose-to-his-phone Sero. Once he realizes where Kirishima had come from, he also gives you a little wave before they walk away.

----

Vrr

Next to your notebook on the desk, your borrowed cell phone vibrates to life. It's a text message.

Asui Tsuyu: Hey! It's Tsu. We're visiting the school to get permission to use the pool, we were wondering if you wanted to go too?

You hesitate over the screen.

It had only been a few days since summer had started, and you had already begun to miss the daily interactions with your classmates. A part of you feels almost giddy at the idea of spending time with them, even if you're just being quiet most of the time.

Yet.. It would be swimming. The last time you'd been in water had been so unpleasant, you barely remembered it. The idea of setting your feet in the water sent a strange chill through your body.

But you're in school to become a hero. You can't afford to be afraid of something so abundant. Confident you had enough self-control to deal with the situation, you reply with a simple:

You: Sure!

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x f!reader #bakugou x you #katsuki x reader #bnha fanfiction #slow burn #deku #todoroki shoto #iida tenya #eijiro kirishima #demon #bakugou x y/n #katsuki x y/n

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yanderenightmare · 4 years

Text

YANDERE ! CHISAKI KAI

goodiebag WARNINGS: dubcon/noncon, yandere, abuse, anxiety, eugenics, kidnapping, abduction, manipulation, stalking

BREAKING VASES

“How are you feeling?”

His voice was a blur of sound she fought no battles to make out. Annoying in some sense, antagonizing the base of her skull, poking and prodding at the back of her mind. Yet she managed to piece together what he’d asked after deciding it’d be unwise to leave his query unanswered.

Having broken through the thick haze she’d momentarily been lost in, she didn’t quite know what to make of his words. It was an impossible question. It was an impossible question due to the fact that it had infinite answers. There seemed to be no end to what she was feeling. Robbed, estranged, vulnerable. She was given a robe, but it acted as a weak replacement to the smoke-ridden garments she wore before. Those scented with herbs, dirt, sweat and blood and culture. Those with holes and rips painting a story of the past few years of her life. Granted, they’d probably pose as nothing more but mere rags to anyone else, but to her they posed as something, out of a select few things, that truly belonged to her. Her armor. The piercings that once acted as her weapons, her axes and spears and swords and arrows, were gone too, stolen away, leaving phantom remnants to fill what empty punctures should have been left, however who had miraculously grown shut as though never even there to begin with. Sentiments of those occasions where she’d gifted herself with the cheap jewels; memories she cherished beyond whatever more money could buy her. The feathers and string woven into her hair, her shield, had also been taken, untangled from her locks, letting the dull tresses fall unenthusiastically down around her shoulders. Her scars as well, the blooming bruises on her knuckles and knees and elbows; gone, and the stories of her victories gone with them. Gone, not healed; removed from existence. She even missed the grime that used to coat her skin, the smudged mascara she never bothered to wash away, the soil beneath her fingernails and stuffed between the ridges in her skin. They were as much part of her as the blood simmering through her veins.

She knew she was exaggerating, thinking of her bath in antibacterial as an acidic Armageddon. She’d merely been washed, but it felt as though her spirit and soul had gone down the drain as well. Her body scrubbed to the point where she could have sworn her skin had been torn away, leaving nothing but blood and bones in their wake. She felt raw. She felt lonely. No, worse. She felt left. Reborn but dead in the same moment, yet she was still alive and the fact felt forever unavoidable by the presence of the man sitting before her. The man who looked like some heathenistic God she might have worshipped once if it were not for his demeanor telling tales of what felt like the onset of destruction. The man who demanded to know, what now felt like ages ago, how she was feeling.

He felt he was being generous with his patience, but that generosity would soon shift if she were to keep on being unresponsive to him. Granted, it was a simple question, a question with a mere two answer option. But she seemed to be weighing the world in her pensiveness. She’d answer for her disobedience sooner rather than later, nothing good ever came from delaying the inevitable. But for now, he would kindly gift her with more of his patience, even though it was running thinner by each second spent of his eyes taking in her presence. Her spotless and cultivated purity. He’d shined away for hours on what would seem like coal to the naked eye, revealing what he knew to be a diamond in the rough once he finished. Chipping away at the edges to create the perfect symmetrical shape he knew she could inhabit.

Her shivering didn’t go unnoticed by him nor did the way she averted her eyes from his peering gaze. She had her knees tucked up under her chin, her position placed picture-perfectly in the middle of the bed; her whole being speaking volumes of how alienated she felt being surrounded by the ocean of silk and cotton and pillows as large as herself. Newly washed hair splaying in thick meanders down her shoulders, legs and spine. Not wet enough to be dripping but enough to damp her clothing. A few dry locks irritatingly dancing across her face, making her nose impulsively scrunch up every now and again.

She was cute, he’d give her that. But being cute wasn’t enough to quench his temper. In fact, it merely aided in his frustrating. Spit rising, pooling under his tongue which writhed and lurched at the sweetness of it. Mere seconds away from starting to drool, similar to how a hound would react upon eyeing a slab of meat, and despite him not wanting to act like a wild beast he found more and more just how hard it was going to be to resist the brute force he was in capacity to use.

He'd at some point removed the bejeweled plague-mask, as she saw it now repositioned on a counter-top. Not daring to face the male, letting his frame remain a blur in her peripheral vision. “Naked.” Her voice was tender… meek. It took him a while to understand that it had been her answer. It had come such a long time after he’d asked and the answer wasn’t exactly orthodox. However, as curious as it was, it was at least more candid than he would have hoped, which made him… not exactly satisfied, but… let’s say… less displeased.

Not sure what to make of it, he figured he’d more or less ignore her retort. Refraining from explaining why his remedies had to be done, as he’s sure it wouldn’t help ease any of the woes, worries and feelings of sentimental loss currently flagging behind her eyes. He was never prone to establishing such ridiculous attachments to anything himself, therefore having a hard time understanding her catatonic sorrow, but he could at the very least make an effort to understand their complications. Thinking perhaps replacements were in order. “Would you want more clothes?” He wasn’t dim. He knew that it wasn’t the same type of naked she meant, but more clothes in exchanged for the translucent kimono she was wearing couldn’t hurt. Perhaps she’d even realize that it all was for the better. She couldn’t possibly prefer the filth she wore before above what precious materials he’d bestow upon her now that she belonged to him.

He was wrong, evidently. “I’d like my clothes, please.” There was a hint, a weak hint, of scorn in the request, but it was rather drowned out in timid timber of her soft voice. He enjoyed the caution she spoke with, as though she’d already assessed the situation and come to terms with her new role. Yet, the shy inkling of ire still caused the hairs on his arms to rise in frustration. Not so much because of her meek defiance, but more so due to the fact that the request was based in such silly audacity. The reason as to why she would ever want those cheap rags back was beyond him, and would hopefully soon be beyond her as well.

His brows flatlined to a nonchalant expression as opposed to the low furrow they’d been held before. “I burnt them.” It was still spoken through grit teeth, unable to hide his annoyance completely. She noticed, scurrying her heels closer to herself, trying to better hold onto her frame, not wanting to slip outside the self-made confinement. Her knuckles turning ashen with how hard she was hugging her body. Trying to better balance her fear in hopes of not causing enough uproar as to make the male sitting a mere meter away suddenly pounce like any other predator might. The feeling of her heart in her throat was choking, making her swallow thickly even though her mouth felt dry.

She flinched when he moved, squeezing her eyes tightly shut, trying to find comfort in the blinding dark behind her eyelids, however failing. The sharp padding of his leather shoes across the floor were intimidating enough on their own, enough to make the image of the golden snake-like slits he had for eyes rise up in front of her. His presence was closer when she dared peek a glance through her lashes. Tears glued them together and it was upon seeing it she understood she’d been crying without noticing, but come to think of it, she did feel the salt rivers sting on her freshly scrubbed cheeks.

He’d come back with garments in his hands. Lace she noted; white, expensive, luxurious, revealing lace. And a dress, just as clinically white, yet far from resembling any of the lechery as the lingerie. No, it was rather something she’d expect you’d dress a doll in. Thin shoulder-straps met with a sweetheart neckline which eventually strutted out into a short airy skirt. The fabric detailed in enhancement of the textile, bumps and ridges forming a vague pattern of roses across. In fact, it was so lavish and occasional that, if the skirt had been floor-length, she’d guessed it to be a wedding dress.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d even worn a dress. She couldn’t even remember the last time she wore the color white. White, in its impracticality, stains too quickly, so granted if she ever even wore the color it wouldn’t remain that way for long. Nevertheless, she reached out. Dainty fingers, what should have been bruise-knuckled were it not for whatever procedure he’d put her through, stretched out in an ever so shy descent from its position atop her knees. But the movement was short-lived, killed with a gasp caught in her throat, for as soon as she brushed fingertips with the displayed fabrics was her wrist tightly snatched from its proceedings and brought forward in an action so rough it made her entire body tumble in the same direction. Promptly pressed firmly and snuggly into his chest as he made quick instalments to secure her new position in his lap. The roughness of his dress-buttons making abrasive contact through the silk of her robe, as the cool metal of his belt-buckle caused similar yet more intrusive discomfort to the place found in between her thighs.

“What do you want from me?” Was the only thing that made it past her quivering lips, granted it was the sole question that seemed to burn with a terror-fueled passion inside her.

“What good would come from stating the obvious?” He said as he cocked his chin to the side. Searing, golden eyes unmoved, or rather amused, by her prominent fear-stricken features. “All you need to know is that my name is Chisaki Kai, and how if you call me by anything but Kai, I will hurt you.” Her wrist felt cold in the pressure of his hold. Her other hand limply placed on his abs. “Do you understand?” Her chest seemed to tighten more and more with the knot tying itself in the pit of her gut, rendering her just barely able to even comprehend what he was saying. Unsatisfied with her blank expression, his eyes narrowed even further. “Let me make it a bit more clear.” His gloved hand rose from the position it had on her thigh and made contact with her face, pinching her chin in an effort to slant her head to the side. “You see that vase over there” He nodded in the direction he’d faced her in. The warm breath of his words tickling the shell of her ear as he spoke. “Watch closely.” She was too afraid to shut her terror-wide eyes, even with the sentiment he’d brought with his words, gently biting into her earlobe as he dropped her wrist. The hand repositioning, palm facing the vase he’d mentioned.

She wouldn’t have guessed it was a vase. Vases were for flowers, but this cauldron could roam at least three liters worth of water. She figured it must have been some ancient artifact, given its placement in the rich complex she found herself situated in. The texture decorating the shell of it resembling that of a toad’s back, bumpy and wriggly and swamp-colored. And it was because of the uneven appearance she didn’t quite catch the moment it all started moving. Ripples, waves, earthquakes seemed to run across the surface of it, before pieces started completely dislodging from the original assignment. Reanimating before his gloved fingers. The sight, acting as the onset of horror, had her guts in turmoil, her stomach folding in on itself, toppling in ways she hadn’t known were possible, as her tongue suddenly felt heavy and foreign in her mouth.

“Do you understand now?” His voice was soft; calculating, yet so very grave in its nature. Turning her head back to face him, fingers making a move to sharply cling to her cheeks yet again, keeping her chin in the palm of his hand. Wishing for a moment he’d removed his gloves, but the regret was too weak to battle the feeling of pleasure at the sight of seeing her lips puckered together between the force of his fingertips and the swimming look of hopelessness displayed so deliciously less than an inch from his face.

“Yes…” The word was only barely audible amidst her quivering, and the display, though brought him great pleasure, didn’t seem to satisfy him. Therefore, quickly adding his name to further her understanding of the rules she’d been giving. “Kai.” He felt his well-fitted pants tighten at that, his member growing hot and heavy, being sure she felt it too.

His hands sank from their endeavors of holding her face in place and of rearranging the vase, and, whence lowered, was placed back on her thighs, stroking a path upwards as to push the silk away from her skin, exposing the cooling soft skin. Soon pulling at the end of her belt, which easily fell away, opening the curtains so that he could peek more clearly at what was found inside. A chill wafted flush against her skin, goosebumps springing to the surface of her breasts; nipples perking as the soft material rubbed across them before being removed. His hand wandered further, inside the kimono to untangle the last tie found by her waists.

“Are you gonna kill me?” Her words lacked momentum, void of purpose, laced with defeat instead, as though she’d already answered the question herself. And if he at all heard what she’d said, he didn’t feel the need to show any indication of it. “Once you’re done with me?” She furthered the question, and at that the man seemed slightly shaken.

She had no doubt what she was there for. If his current actions weren’t any indication, the past hours certainly were. She’d been prepared for him. Groomed to fit his idea of perfection. It was all evident now. His eyes still trained over her body, never once showing any further acknowledgment for her words. “What makes you think I’ll ever be done with you?” It was as though he weren’t even speaking to her. It looked more as though he were speaking to himself, ignoring the growing terror he was increasing by the second. His hands exploring with his full attention at their disposal. Gloved fingers running over smooth skin, having the new foreign urge to remove the protective garments.

He moved slowly, controlled, yet she could see the fidgety urge he possessed to get the gloves off as quick and effortlessly as possible. Pulling each gloved finger halfway off. The act soon became a strange type of clumsy; childish, as if he couldn’t quite do it fast enough. However, despite his hurried movements, whence the gloves were fully removed he took the time to place them neatly beside him, as though they were of outmost importance, too good to be thrown on the floor in the fit of his impatience.

Momentarily mesmerized by the strange actions of the golden-eyed boy, she shook out of her stunned state. “Toys break… and broken toys are no longer fun to play with.” She didn’t know when she gained back her confidence, perhaps somewhere along perceiving him nearly trip at the mere strive to remove his gloves.

“That’s true.” He stated, naked fingers hesitantly making first contact with unresearched, untested skin. Yet, once his fingers only barely brushed past the thin peach-fuss found on her hips, unscathed in their venture, there seemed to be nothing keeping him at bay. “Only… you’re not a toy.” It was hard to believe the sentiment when he was poking and prodding and playing with her flesh as though she were some type of doll. Still and withal, despite it being unwanted, the touch wasn’t unpleasant… at least not for now as he went on with the tender cautious ticklish strokes of a child. As if in reverence or savory or relief or all of them at once. Though, it would soon turn into possessiveness.

His hands were soft, to her great surprise. Just as soft as the silk she wore before. His nails were long, sharp, groomed, manicured. The talons sinking into her skin more so than his fingertips, in an amateurish fashion, giving off the impression he hadn’t ever done such a thing before or that it had been a very long while since he had. He seemed confident despite it, or… any grain of angst was thoroughly outmaneuvered by his curiosity.

“What am I then?” She feared the answer as she eyed the growing lust in his starry irises, as his pupils seemed somehow a darker color than black beside the godly glow of gold.

He had half the mind to repeat the answer she’d first given him, given that it was now true in all its information, but decided against it. It would be wrong of him to mock her when he was the one nearly drooling at the sight of her in such a state. He took a breath, surprised to find it uneven. “Perfection.” It was only barely above a whisper. Frightening adoration and unwanted worship over-seasoned the one word.

Her brows furrowed at the endearment, it feeling so foreign an adjective to describe her of all people. Confusion wafting over her, nearly replacing the fear. “I think you’ve kidnapped the wrong person.” She didn’t exactly think he’d stop, yet the light-hearted smirk that soon quirked at the corner of his lips still came as a surprise, it serving as a convinced resolution, disagreeing with her foolish accusation. She guessed it was the certainty that surprised, or scared, her more than anything. The way he acted as though nothing was out of place, as though she was exactly where she belonged, just another relic, quite like that vase, he’d get to manipulate to his will without her having any more courage than ability to stop him. “I’ll disappoint you.” She said, more as a warning than a fact. He eyed her as though she were some sort of angel on earth, still with his entitled godlike gaze, yet she knew she was no less human than faults themselves. She was far from perfection, far from wanting to be either.

She sucked in a breath, her hands crinkling into the bedsheets as a thumb rubbed across the nib of her breast. “Impossible.” He spoke with resolution now, yet again eliminating her doubts with more grave timber added to his already gravelly tone. “Besides…” It was the first time in a while where he re-gifted her with his gaze. Sharp, golden eyes fixated onto her teary orbs. “I fix things just as easy as I break them.” She was reminded of the vase and how it so eerily represented her situation. Images of it being her demise spilling, flooding her mind, causing her brows to rumple. It was no question to it being a threat and if she’d been standing she was sure her knees would have given out under her. Especially as his chin prodded forward and hers was once again caught firmly between his fingers. The action stopped in its tracks upon her pouring words.

“I don’t understand, this makes no sense, you’re…” She shook her head as she spoke, words tumbling from her lips like speedy rain, as though she were shaking them from the confines of her mind, however pausing in her process, biting her lip as if what she was about to say were too insensitive, as though genuinely not wanting to hurt the feelings of the brute man before her. “Not to sound superficial, but…” She bowed her head in apology for her next words. “You’re…” She looked around, at the expense surrounding her. “Rich.” Her eyes found his again, as though searching for something her words had aggravated, but found nothing but attentive eyes staring back at her. “And you’ve pretty lashes.” She added, more on a spur than anything. Shaken out of her puzzlement for a brief second before finding her way back to it. “I don’t... I don’t understand… why go through all this trouble?” Her body shifted as she spoke, and the movements did not go unaccounted for by Chisaki. However, the current bewilderment strewn on the girl’s face called for more entertainment. “You can have as many girls as you wish, willing girls who’d love a rich guy like you-” She was stopped, her sentence caught in the air, unable to finish.

“It has nothing to do with quantity.” She had to think for a second to remember the meaning of the word, finding she felt uncertain by what she decided upon. ”But everything to do with quality.” That word she knew well enough, yet it left her even more puzzled than the confusion his previous statement gifted her with.

“If it’s the acid bath you’re talking about…” She queried cautiously. “You’d be surprised how much people will put up with for cash.” He wouldn’t, he knew very well of people’s adamant desperation. How often it made him sick.

His head tilted, giving her words more time than they needed to breathe. Yet, time he needed to evaluate and admire the freckle adorning her neck. “You possess something other people lack by lacking something everyone has.” His hands felt heavy on her thighs as she was once again left puzzled beyond comprehension, leaving room for the pressure in his grip to come to mind as she rummaged her brain for the meaning of his riddling words.

“A quirk?” She said it with too much enthusiasm, caught in her split-second satisfaction for cracking the mystery, before reeling herself back into reality. “You want me ‘cause I’m weak?” Her nose scrunched at the thought, gut winding like livid snakes. “That’s sick.” She hiccupped in her oncoming cry, feeling the desperate hopelessness of her situation hanging around her, the air itself becoming suffocating to take into her lungs.

His hands made a sharp stir at her words, nails briefly poking into her skin at how twisted her reality was. “I desire you because you’re pure.” He didn’t let his guilt shine through in his tone, making it sound ridiculing instead, as though she were stupid to question his intensions, despite her suspicion being nothing but unfounded and sound. “Quirks are a disease not a blessing, you’re spared from its corruption.” He spoke so matter-of-factly, lecturing her as though she were clouded by some ignorance he saw past. It was the tone more than the words that had an effect on her. The lump in her chest, resembling that of shame, rose in her throat. Though, she weren’t stupid; the undeserving condescension vanished once awareness of his manipulation came as a realization in her head. Clarity of the situation soon finding its footing in her mind, no longer feeling insecure in the clouds of his judgement.

She decided to play his game. Having a strong feeling that no amount of questions or arguments would have her leaving her current imprisonment in the house, let alone her position on his lap. “I have conditions.” She quipped quickly, trying to sound assertive in her command, however it playing off as what it actually was, which was insecurity.

A curious glint flashed in his golden orbs as well as a humored tug at the corner of his lips. “You have conditions?” He had half the mind to inform her she was in no such position to demand anything, but he figured there’d be no harm in hearing her out. “Amuse me.” A brief and terribly low chuckle erupted from somewhere deep in his throat, a noise similar to what she’d imagine an old heavy door creaking would sound like.

“I want a garden.” She said first and foremost and what would soon be revealed as last.

Although he didn’t enjoy the messy past-time of hers, some part of him had understood it was something more than that in his time stalking her. How he’d seen her treat her plants as though they were something precious above being mere dirt. “Already provided.”

“Really?” She looked astonished, happy even. “Well, uhm…” She skimmed her brain for more commands, more because of a yearning to exercise the power to command than actually having anything further to request.

“You have nothing else to ask for, do you?” He gave a knowing look. A look of content endearment. “Such a humble creature you are.” The smile, though rather flat, still exuded an inane amount of awe, so much so it made her feel even more exposed than what she already was.

“Don’t call me creature.” She said, more as an attempt to wipe whatever frenzied state he’d escaped to than from actual discomfort by the word itself.

Her attempt didn’t seem to do the trick. “Hmm, anything else?” He started leaning toward her again. Her lips trembling from his exhales. “No?” It would be wrong to say she had no more desires, however those which she had seemed out of reach or strangely punishable if mentioned. “Well, if there’s anything you might feel the need for, do not hesitate to ask.” She most certainly would hesitate before asking for anything from the man, however… she figured it was more or less a purposeful joke than a genuine sentiment.

He hesitated once again as he did when he first touched her, lips only barely brushing over each-other, hovering in the presence of one another’s breath, before primly pressed together. It felt like fire against her freshly scrubbed raw and swollen lips, but she made no effort to stop him as he pressed on. Teeth seemed like fangs as they tugged at the sensitive chunk of flesh, grinding it between them, his tongue soon accompanying her own inside the comfort of her mouth.

It was strange; foreign. She’d kissed, been kissed and shared kisses before, yet the sensation was always adorned with the scent of smoke in the air and on her breath, and the taste of bitter beer swirling and pooling on her tongues. But this, this transaction of something that was purely them, left her feeling barren and at a complete loss for words. With nothing else to cling to sept for the taste of him on her and the even stranger feeling of him desperately trying to taste her.

She felt like a rag-doll, a toy more or less, as she made no effort to move; limp and only barely lively as he laid her beneath him on the bed. Lips caught in each-other’s embrace all the while. His hesitance diluted quickly, turning rougher and painful in a sense, as though he were in some sort of hurry, or as though he couldn’t quite satisfy whatever yearning had awoken in him as fast as it was building. His large hand wrapping around her throat, squeezing to paint a clearer point of who it was that were in charge. “Look at me.” The talons made their presence known, digging crescent moons into the delicate flesh of her spine. Growling accompanying the act, beckoning whimpers from the small thing beneath him. His other hand helping him hunch over her, acting as a pillar for his weight to rest upon. One of his knees soon diving between her legs, prompting her thigh on top of his, preforming the same maneuvers with the parallel leg. Having her knees spread to either side of his hips, nuzzling between them. Her windpipe seemed to bend more than break beneath his viscous hold, yet the sensation felt no less painful.

As lips continued to clash and teeth started to do more than just graze, small hands made to push at his tough chest. Not in an effort to shove him away but to subdue whatever frenzy had taken ahold of him, as a weak attempt to get her discomfort across. He didn’t seem to notice how he’d started biting, or of her rather obvious distress, and if he did it would seem he’d elected to ignore it all, as his weight remained unmoved by her desperate actions.

He didn’t know what he was fussing about before. She clearly respected his authority. How could he ever think that a creature like her, quirkless and infinitely vulnerable, would ever have the heart to disobey him? The mere thought of it was laughable now, as she made such feeble attempts to simply soothe him and not at all in an effort to make him stop. Too kind in her nature to ever want to deliberately upset him. It would be cruel of him to not answer to her prayers of making the ordeal more comfortable, especially when she was being so sweet in her request, in her begging. She should be rewarded, not ignored, he resonated, deciding to go slower, softer.

His hand moved from cramping around her neck to cupping the side of her cheek instead, fingers spreading to either side of her ear. The hand keeping him in a menacing stance, towering over her petite frame, bent at the elbow, lowering him down to rest more intimately against her chest. Feeling her hands move instinctively away from his chest to grasp his shoulders instead, an inkling to perhaps tangle them behind his neck burning in her thoughts, but she was left at a loss for how far she was willing to sell her freewill, but also because she had no way of knowing if such an action would please him. The doubt was soon answered as he assisted in placing her hands above her head, one large hand securing her wrists in a firm yet strangely delicate lock.

Newly free of anything to do, his other hand repositioned to grasp her breast. Lips soon joining as he slobbered a wet path down to her exposed nipples. She fought the urge to scurry away, knowing there was nowhere to go and how nothing good would come out of it, or if it would at all change the events of what was currently in motion. She wasn’t sure just how far his temper reached, but she wasn’t at all that inclined to find out. Besides, he’d already installed the measures to keep her from doing anything of the same caliber of foolish, her position unmovable beneath the inescapable presence of him.

He was broad. Not thick, but thick with muscle to a sense where her legs where thoroughly spread by the mere diameter of his torso. Her knees tightly hugging him because of it, unable to spread even further without it becoming an uncomfortable stretch.

She felt strange. So unavoidably naked. She’d done it before, shamelessly more times than she could count, proudly shared her body with past lovers and friends, yet this seemed a strange type of surrender more than an understanding. Perhaps because she was fully naked whereas he still wore his black suit-pants and matching black dress-shirt with the contrasting white tie. Or, perhaps being naked had nothing to do with it, and the explanation laid solely in the fact that he had taken her from her home without hindrance from both herself and the law it would seem, bathed her and groomed her and dressed her and taken claim of her as some type of belonging all without her being able to object. She was powerless. He was living proof of her hopelessness, helplessness, weakness. Weak and fragile and infinitely exposed beneath him. Inferior, but… it would seem… desirable to some unfounded extent as his golden attention locked on her where nothing else seemed to be worth any significance.

His lips again finding their way up to her throat, his gelled hair tickling her chin and cheek before his breath splayed across the tender skin of her ear. “I undressed you…” He whispered matter-of-factly in the seductive tone, lips brushing against her earlobe at the sentiment. “Time to return the favor.” He shuffled back and made to kneel between her legs, helping her prop herself up with both hands at her waist, pulling her so close she was made to sit on his lap again with her legs cradling him behind his back. His hands serving as the only leverage in keeping her position upright and from falling back onto the bed.

It was selfish and greedy of him to want to test her obedience, especially when she was shaking so violently like a leaf caught in a hurricane. Her head bowed, afraid to meet his height, yet her eyes still peered back up at him through the thick veil of lashes.

She felt his hands tighten around her waist, fingers and talons digging into soft plump flesh as large, glossy eyes stared at him for far too long without her acting on his command. For it was a command. “Need I remind you of what happens when you disobey me?” The belt-buckle seemed a frozen or electric type of cold against her clit as the threat boiled in the back of her mind. She shook her head, or… that was the intention, yet her whole body seemed to quake with the movement.

Hesitant hands and fingers that seemed far too frail for this world reached out to undo his tie. Once he reassured himself she knew what she was doing he tilted his head to lean in for another kiss. He was sure she didn’t do it on purpose, yet he needed to inform her of her mistakes as she seemed to use his tie as some sort of rope that would keep her from falling as she leaned backwards away from his antagonizing lips. His hands once again digging calloused fingertips into the doughy flesh of her waistline.

As though shocked from her transgression she did the opposite action of averting his kiss and came back to meet him. Sniffling as she loosened the tie, reciprocating the unwanted kiss. The realization of how hopeless her predicament coming down on her, as well as the impending events of violation and perhaps unwanted stimulation wracking through her with a vengeance. She couldn’t help but start crying, only this time she noticed the tears as they streamed hot and heavy like silent waterfalls down her face and neck, dripping from her chin onto her chest and falling down further in soundless rivulets, streaking her skin with reddened irritation. He must have tasted it on her lips, for soon his kisses turned sloppier, as though elevated and somehow frenzied by the display of her struggle. His tongue, flat and all-capturing, soon licking up her cheek to better taste her tears, making her cry with increasing fervor. Clutching onto his tie in false comfort as though it were some lifeline. “Put it on.” He demanded as she lifted it above and off his head, hesitating for a second, scanning his eyes for humor but finding nothing sept for lustful impatience. She complied and the once false lifeline turned into a very real noose. She whimpered as one of his hands left her waits to grab onto the tail of the tie, pulling her closer to his face in a choke-hold. “Come on.” He growled against her lips, referring to the still movement of her hands, the hands that were supposed to be halfway done with the unbuttoning of his shirt.

She hurriedly undid the buttons, nimble fingers working precisely despite it. And, although he was under no illusion her hurry was a product of his threat, he could fantasize the rush was of the same desperation he felt festering inside him. However, it was hard to imagine when she finished unbuttoning the shirt, her hands hovering above his pants, left yet again at a loss for what to do.

With his patience running thin, he let his temper get the best of him. The last hand leaving her waist to grab her face with a growl. However, upon seeing the tearful, terrified look displayed swimmingly in her orbs, his snarling features softened. He could pretend she didn’t know how to unbuckle his belt. He could pretend it were some inconceivable contraption you needed to be familiar with beforehand to ever hope understanding. He was good at pretending.

She yelped as he dropped her back onto the mattress, his weight quickly followed suit as he kissed a trail down the valley of her breasts, before rising back up and admiring the sight of her in his tie and the blooming love-bites that had formed from his teeth’s last encounter with her skin. He decided, in his constant growing impatience, to go back on his command, granting her one mercy by removing his belt on his own.

Not wanting to see or find out if she’d disobey more of his clear commands, he placed one careful yet firm hand around her throat, strong fingers pressing into the sides of her throat as so to keep her in her place. Feeling her precious little heartbeats drumming against his palm. Eyes locked with each other. Fearful, tearful, spiraling eyes seemed to take up half her face as she searched his business like, monotonous features in a desperate scramble for hope or escape. Blotchy, red, screaming skin surrounded those gorgeous round eyes of hers. Tear-slicked lashes seemed thicker, hugging each other close for comfort. Nose a blossom shade of pink, nostrils flaring in the meekest of flutters each time she sniffled. She didn’t mean to whimper as Chisaki stroked his middle finger over her neck. She was reminded yet again of the vase from earlier. The vase that was meters away, yet broke apart easily despite the distance and how she was infinitely closer to his destructive hands. How expensive that vase must have been and how priceless in the sense of carrying no expense she was. The possibility of him breaking apart her anatomy similar to the vase was uncertain, on purpose or even by accident.

He made no further moves, just feeling up her pulse beneath his fingertips and watching her eyes go rounder and wider with fear of what he might do. She had completely lost her composure now, and he knew the sight should have awoken some form of regret inside him, some form remorse or guilt, yet the only thing he seemed to think was about how pitifully beautiful she looked in her helplessness beneath him, how undeniable his ownership now was, and how victorious he felt.

To her it felt as though he were oblivious to her discomfort, as though he didn’t even register the tears streaming down her face or the ever-present tremble in her body. How her stomach toppled in on itself, how she was afraid to even as much as move her hands from their places on either side of her head, how she felt as though the sheets swallowed her whole and how the whole atmosphere seemed too strange, too foreign. How the smell of bleach in the air had all five of her senses in utter turmoil, how the cleanliness of everything made her skin crawl, how the silk tie around her neck was both the softest and roughest form of embrace she’d ever felt. How the love-bites on her body represented bullet-wounds, how he’d poked holes through her skin into her very core, how she felt as though the remnants of her soul seeped out through them, spilling onto the fresh bedsheets. How his eyes oddly looked like the eyes of God despite her not believing in such things, how even in her fear she found herself wondering why his lashes were so long and why his skin looked like porcelain and why on earth would a divine creature like him ever show such a devoting interest in the likes of her.

The sharp clashes of an unbuckling belt weren’t enough to shake her from her rambling thoughts, nor was the unbuttoning of his pants or the sound of the textile being thrown on the floor. Fingers however, fingers easily brought her out of her own mind. Fingertips grazing tender, unprotected, wet skin. Slender-veined, long, striking fingers that reached farther inside her to that spot she couldn’t ever hope reach on her own. Fingers that easily entered through the slick of building wetness, pooling with the rush of blood that had celebrated by the countless accidental, conditional and intentional feather-touches she’d received throughout the events of her time in his presence. It felt good. Undeniably so, in spite of her fear, maybe even in product of her fear. Two digits buried knuckle-deep inside her, slithering, bathing, curling, stretching, molding her walls to their liking.

With his face inches away from her, with the fingers of his hand dancing curious choreography inside her and his thumb drawing careful patterns onto her clit, she couldn’t help put moan past the hand tightening around her throat. His hot breath fanning over her face she felt him grow restless at the lewd sounds she made. There was a still present stretch in the outer ring of muscle despite her growing wetness, but her insides fluttered, happily and welcomingly sucking on the guests taking up space within her. Her knees pressing harder into his sides in an impulsive desperate attempt to rub her thighs together, hanging onto every precise move his fingers made, wanting more, needing more.

“Look at me.” Eyes wrenched shut at the unwanted yet much enjoyable pleasure, peeled open at the threat of his words and the tightening enclosure of pressure her vocal cords sustained beneath the grip of his hand.

She had at a point tangled her hands around his neck, despite her dilemma with the movement earlier. Teeth adamantly biting down into her bottom lip as she proceeded in getting lost in his eyes and at the pooling sensation of his fingers pumping in and out of her. Un-allowed to look any other place but his eyes, un-allowed to move when his digits disappeared and the soft velvety tip of his cock nuzzled at her entrance, feeling warm and much bigger than the expanse of his fingers.

He made a sound. A low, guttural moan which reverberated through his chest and erupted somewhere deep within his throat; hungry in its conviction and greedy in its quest, making the girl beneath him whimper as his swollen cockhead kissed past the lips of her pussy, beginning to push through into her plushy walls. His hand soon finding its way to cover her mouth, muffling each pathetic little whimper that came with his throbbing cock tearing through her constricting walls with its monstrous girth frustratingly slowly, the small sounds vibrating, tickling him in the palm of his hand. The frustrating slow move letting her feel every ridge, every vein, every prodding rift on his bulging cockhead.

Nails belonging to small hands dig into the back of his neck as he thrusts the remaining length of his cock inside her, his pillow-like tip bumping into her cervix, bottoming out in one quick movement of his hips furiously slamming up against the underside of her thighs. She gasped at the intrusion, her velvety walls fluttering around the size of his, moaning whence he pulled out ever so slowly. He groaned blissfully, lolling softly into her. Her eyes once again closing, falling into the back of her skull, but that couldn’t be allowed. “Look at me while I make you mine.” It was hard to bring herself back, it was hard to even open her eyes and even harder to focus on keeping eye-contact as he continuously buried himself inside her. However, the throaty growls and moans and croaks, that somehow deafened the wet creamy squelching of his shaft driving into her sopping folds, served as enough a wordless threat to keep her attention tethered to him.

The pace was slow, agonizingly so, but he drove deep. And as the speed picked up, she couldn’t help that her needy walls began clamping around the girth of his length, sucking his cock right back inside her warmth each time he reared his hips back, as if he belonged there. Her struggle was unnecessary as he eagerly slammed his pelvis back into her, creating an ear deafening smack with each bone-shattering thrust. Her back arching into him as her warm walls seized up around his cock rapidly pumping in and out of her, feeling the early building fluttering of her orgasm closing in, chasing her in her bliss. His hand still tightly enclosed around her neck, the space dividing their faces nearly nonexistent as his hot breath fell upon her face each time he grunted and groaned with the thrusts of his hips.

She moaned his name, trying to find the words to warn him of her upcoming release, but between his thrusts she had had to prioritize breathing above anything else and as the feelings inside her spurred violently she was rendered unable to even as much as think about anything but the bliss. Her legs cramped around his torso, bringing him close and holding him there as her body convulsed in earth-shattering spasms. Moans slipping past the fingers on her throat, forgetting they were there for a moment. All movements stilled before she opened her eyes to find those weighty eyes staring back at her, feeling an inclination to apologize but having the words choke in her throat by both his hand and once again picked up speed, as he slammed into her with a newfound vigor. Her orgasm still ricocheting, pulsating, crippling her body in warm heat and fuzzy shocks, the tingling contrasting with his sharp and angled thrusts into her swollen walls, riding her through the feeling. Her crying had partially subsided, however started returning. His pounding so crucial and stinging she sobbed at the brutality of it, her throat feeling sore beneath his fingers.

He bit into her neck, stuffing her again and again with his cock, heavy balls hitting against her ass in wet slaps. He drove harder, making her hiccup and scream at the force of his shaft tearing a hole through her abdomen. She begged him to stop, but he was chasing his own form of release. Her hands slamming and pushing at his shoulder, but he was neatly and snuggly slotted against her, in no hopes of moving without wanting to himself. His hand descended to gripping the underside of her knees, spreading her further out for him to rut into. Face buried in her chest as he selfishly groaned and moaned and grunted like some animal, ignoring her spluttering cries. His noises grew louder, uncontrolled, building to one final croak, feeling his cock spur in warm twitches, ropes of white thickness sprouting from his pulsating tip into her, creaming up her walls and dripping out of her crammed hole.

He sighed contently, continuing to slot his cock inside her warmth however slowly, feeling his cum run down the length of his and she felt it smear her thighs in stickiness. Her hands shook, clinging to him for comfort from the relenting attacks, her entire body aching. He pulled out all the way only to fill her up again, his cock keeping its size and length without faltering in the slightest, she was afraid he wasn’t done, but he seemed content relaxing into her chest, eyes closed and resting. He lied there for a bit, cock going limp inside the comfort of her warm walls, before he rolled off. A large hand still left on her stomach.

Part of her told her to simply fall asleep. Her aching body begging to find rest in the soft sheets, yet the almost wild need to get as far away from the man at her side outgrew her need for comfort, as it usually did. She stirred from her position, slipping out from under his hand, yet the movement was quickly silenced with the hand coming to snatch her wrists instead. “Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was calculated despite groggy and tired, annoyed in some sense yet desperate in another. She opened her mouth to speak but the words fell stillborn on her tongue. “You’re not going anywhere.” He pulled her towards him again and she was sure he wanted to go another round, but found that instead of lining her up with his cock another time, she was instead firmly placed against his chest. One arm coming to wrap around her, whilst the other made to grab the duvet from its place at their feet, draping the both of them in sterile white cloth. “If you move during the night, expect to wake up to a punishment.” He added softly in her ear. His fingers delicately dancing across her cheek to brush a tress of hair behind her ear. His lidded eyes intently locked; admiring, the curves and slopes of her face, even as the red and teary confusion started back at him. He was glad to see no hints of hatred or scorn laced with her gaze, or perhaps he was just too tired to notice. Though, she did as commanded. Keeping her frame neatly placed where he’d positioned her. Her eyes scanning the man’s features until sleep as well soon brought her to her knees. And she would like to dispel the notion, but the truth wasn’t easily buried. Despite the burning swollen soreness found between her legs, the soft comfort of clean pillows and covers and sheets had her body relax more so than she knew she should. The smell of bleach accompanied by lavender and lilac soon aiding her in her relaxation as well. And when all was said and done, the warmth of Chisaki’s body was a strange type of welcoming consolation despite it also being the reason to her aches.

#yandere chisaki #yandere chisaki kai #yandere kai chisaki #yandere #yandere overhaul #yandere kai #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere bnha #yandere mha #kai chisaki #chisaki kai imagine #kai #mha chisaki #chisaki #chisaki kai #chisaki overhaul #overhaul

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 4 years

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poly quarantine with the lost boys? please?

God, this is such a vibe anon. Writing this while I'm bored at work so here you go!!

Poly!Lost Boys x Quarantining with S/O

The boys have dealt with outbreaks and diseases like this before. They've been around since the the late 1800s, so they witnessed the Spanish flu. They knew that they couldn't get sick, so, whether you were already living with them or not, they insisted you quarantine with them. That way there was absolute no possiblity of you getting sick.

You were worried about the boys not having enough to eat for the first few weeks, but they assured you that there would still be plenty of people for them to pick off. To your surprise, there was. Apparently, not everyone was obeying quarantine, and the boys were far too satisfied with their kills. Still, if the pickings were light one night, you'd let them take a few sips from you. They kept a rotation, and they kept their feedings off you light. They didn't want to end up making you faint and they made sure that you drank plenty of fluids.

To curb their boredom, each boy threw themselves into something different. After being alive for so many years, they each had their own way of keeping themselves entertained.

Paul proceeded to get stoned out of his mind and practice his guitar for hours. (Luckily, the second he heard the whispers of going into quarantine, Paul stocked up on herbal refreshment to last all of you for a good while) He even tried to teach you how to play, but he kept pausing to giggle at how cute you looked with his guitar in your hands. And when you played something right? He got so excited. Will clap excitedly and then yank you in for a victory kiss. But be careful, because Paul will definitely try to start his other favorite way of keeping boredom at bay (wink wink)

Marko is the reason there's so much graffiti all over the walls, and he basically went out to buy a whole new set of paints, spray cans, and drawing materials right before quarantine started. He completely paints over one half of the cave so he can have a "blank canvas" and starts making a mural that will literally take him weeks to complete. He has you help him outline the bottom part of the cave while he floats above you outlining the top. When he's not working on his mural, he's sketching you. He claims that he needs "posing practice" and sets you up in a different pose each day (some of them a little bit more sexual than others). Paul will complain that Marko is hogging you, especially since you're not even doing anything. When the mural is finished, he gives the other boys, and you, free reign to add their own little details to make it "all of yours"

Dwayne decided to use this time to read all the books he's been meaning to read. Half of the books he has stacked up in the cave are unread and on "queue". He'll lend you his copies and the two of you will curl up on the couch or in your nest just each reading your own books. One of you is playing with the others hair while you read, those are just the facts. You two have conversations about the books you're reading, and take breaks to have a small makeout session here or there. If you're willing to learn, Dwayne will teach you how to skateboard as well. He'll hold your waist as he helps you balance on the board, and he'll help you do circles around the fountain. When you start getting good, he'll get you your own board

David is the king of movie marathons. He plans one each week, and they're usually horror so- He usually has a theme, and, while the movie marathons are mainly just for you two, the others are welcome to join. But he's the one you're gonna cuddle with. No exceptions. He has you sit in his lap with your head on his chest. The two of you will binge watch your favorite TV shows well into the morning, and the only thing that will force you to stop is the sunlight creeping into the cave. But if you guys put the TV in your nest? That's a dangerous game. The two of you won't come out for days, and you're both mumbling incoherently about a season finale that none of the others have seen.

The boys go food shopping for you. Sorry, but you're not allowed to leave the house (at least for the first few months). They can't have you getting sick, so if you ever need anything one of the boys will get it for you. It sucks when stores start closing earlier at night, but David will definitely try to use it as an excuse to get you to turn

Paul always forgets his mask. Deadass the type to ride out of the cave without it and get all the way to the store before he realizes he forgot it. Drives back angrily mumbling about "stupid fucking masks" before putting it on and driving back out to get whatever you asked for. Will complain in public that they don't need masks, but it's literally because the boys don't need them. Will say "I can't breathe in them" just for Dwayne to remind him that he doesn't need to breathe

Marko stays strapped with masks. He never forgets and he always has extras. He's the one to use cloth masks and he makes his own. Not only does it give him something to do, but it's also just a reason for him to break out his sewing skills. He uses cool patterns to make them "fashion", because that boy is all about diy and self expression. Will make you a mask, and considers selling them for some extra cash. Is very happy whenever someone compliments him on his mask

Dwayne is a strickler for masks. While technically none of the boys need to wear one, you do. Because of that, he will be the type to glare at people that don't wear masks in public. Keeps you very close and cannot stand people that don't obey the six feet rule. He doesn't like to start drama, but they're endangering your health so he will say something if someone is getting a little too close. God help whoever scoffs at the two of you for wearing masks because they're a "scam". They will get eaten. Reminds you before you go anywhere about whether or not you have your mask. Will carry hand sanitizer for you

David is chaotic about masks. He makes sure that you wear them, but then won't wear one himself when you're just walking around/out and about. The only way to get him to wear one is when Marko made him a black cloth one. Throws around the idea of getting a gas mask just to be extra. Likes to make life for others harder so he's definitely the type to not wear the mask over his nose. But if you try to do the same? He will fix it. It's actually low-key kinda cute whenever he reaches over to adjust your mask for you. The boy already wears gloves so he may invest in getting you a pair as well

The boys use quarantine as an excuse to have semi-constant sex. Would you expect anything different? You get told a lot of, "Well, I mean, if you're bored we could..."

When restaurants start opening up again the boys are esctatic. Even if they usually only get takeout, they'll take you out to eat just to get you (and Paul) out of the house for a bit

The boys place bets on how many people will come to the beach and you're flabbergasted when you find out that their guesses weren't actually that high. They're hesitant to take you to the boardwalk with them, and they keep a close eye on you when they do. Will form a protective circle around you and no one is allowed to touch you (it was already like that before but now they have a reason)

If you show any symptoms? You bet your ass you're either being confined to your nest for two weeks or you're drinking out of the wine bottle, it's your choice

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys marko #the lost boys paul #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagines

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remmushound · 3 years

Text

Beyond the Bay Chapter 19, Traximus

Summary: The Turtles meet a dinosaur

Tags: @brightlotusmoon @selfindulgenz @ilo-artistry @unhealthyobsessions101

Content warnings: swears

Bubble, bubble, bubble went the water as it swelled and displaced. Weapons were drawn, and the katana in Leonardo’s hand felt as foreign as if someone had just given him a book in Chinese and instructed him to read it. The handle was smaller than his odachi, and the blade was shorter, and it was thinner, and its weight was lighter, almost nothing. Still, a weapon was a weapon, even if he naturally navigated toward the back of the crowded group to put a wall of muscle between him and whatever was emerging from the cesspool.

There came two curved horns as long as Leonardo’s arm and as thick as Leo’s at the base, curved forward and angled close together. The gap between then formed an almost triangle shape. First came the horns, and then came an apricot head that rivaled the size of a small car, revealing a third smaller horn on the tip of a muzzle just before heavy, meaty flesh parted to a hard, bony beak. The head shook from size to side, a loud whoosh resulting as the broad frill caught the air. Further still the triceraton revealed himself.

His shoulders were as wide as the frill on his head, and he had a torso that could be mistaken for a brick wall. He was clothed in a red and orange regalia that could have once been a beautiful suit but was now stained with waste and ruin, heavy from the submergence. His nostrils flared to blow away the water that still cascaded along his muscular form, his breaths coming in heavy and labored grunts. Donnie couldn’t help but take notice of many wires hanging loosely around the triceratons shoulders, several of them severed or otherwise damaged; what use could they have once served? The options were limitless!

The triceraton didn't charge, but the clan held their ground. Eyes of an impossibly bright emerald sought something among the group; what that something was was anyone’s guess, but it must have been important. Apparently it was Donnie that held what the alien sought, because when his eyes found the box turtle they stopped searching. His head bowed and the turtles once more braced themselves for a charge. The triceraton lifted his arms up to his horns, arching his fingers downward so they formed an inverted triangle; joined with the angling of his horns, a diamond shape was revealed.

“Awaiting… orders… general Mozar.” He sounded as if he had swallowed a cheese grater.

Raph’s confusion disturbed the unyielding stance. “Who?”

All eyes gleaned over at Donnie. The box turtle paled at all the attention suddenly on him, his throat drying and a visible drop of sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Dudes this is so weird…” Mikey breathed.

“Woah!” Despite the many shouts of discouragement and several attempts to stop Michelangelo, the box turtle made his way to the front of the group to oggle the still giant. “How can we understand you?! Is there some super cool alien translation device?!”

“Actually Michael, I think he’s just speaking english.” Donatello commented absently.

“Oh.” Michelangelo deflated, “That’s less fun.”

The giant seemed to tolerate Michelangelo’s presence surprisingly well; that is to say, he didn't immediately try to beat the young turtle into a puddle.

“Should we be concerned that he’s not, you know… pummeling us right now?” Raphael asked, his hands still fixed firmly on his tonfa.

“Don’t let your guard down.” Leo whispered to the group, “He still might.”

“I don’t think he will.” Leonardo said, and his eyes were locked on the dinosaur as if seeing something no one else could.

“Excuse me?” With a hand perched on his hip, Leo addressed Leonardo’s words with scrutiny.

“Donnie.” Leonardo said to the box turtle, “Raise your hand…”

Donnie, though confused, raised his hand. The triceraton lowered his strange salute and raised his hand; Donnie leaned curiously to the side, and the dinosaur leaned to the side. Donnie leaned to the other side, and the dinosaur followed, like a baby mimicking its mother.

“Ooookay, things just got a whole lot weirder.” Mikey whistled.

“Guys, you remember that one really red triceraton?” Donnie asked quickly without removing his eyes from the ten foot giant before him. “The one with the lopsided horns?”

“Yeah, the leader.” Leo said just as quick as Donnie, just as urgent.

Donnie didn't answer verbally, but made a point of motioning to the goggles perched on his head, the lopsided lenses glistening.

“Aaaaand sidebar!” Despite being the smallest of all eight gathered, Leonardo was able to wrap his arms around the other mutants and whisk them to the side while Traximus returned to his unsteady salute. “Okay bros; how we feeling ‘bout this?”

“That dino dude’s acting weird…” Mikey said, and made a point of enunciating the last word,

“Yeah, like Mikey weird.” Raph whistled.

“Hey.” Mikey narrowed his eyes.

“And his gears all busted up.” Donnie reported, “He doesn’t have his mask on anymore for one.”

“And why is he playing some twisted version of Simon Says with Donnie?” Raph’s words came with a sharp scoff.

“Maybe he’s friendly?” Michelangelo offered up.

“Unlikely.” Donatello disagreed.

“Well the robot was nice.” Michelangelo pointed out.

“That is a fair point.” Leonardo nodded and agreed.

“And what’s that meant to be, some kinda salute?” Raph lifted his head from the group to look back at the giant. “An’ why does he think Don’s this ‘Mozar’ or whatever?”

Donatello cleared his throat to call everyone’s attention. “I would like to offer a theory if I may?”

“Yeah, shoot.” Raphael said.

“You mentioned something about a mask.” Donatello said, holding one hand over his mouth and nose to resemble a mask, “Like, a cloth mask or an oxygen mask?”

“Uh, oxygen.” Donnie nodded his confirmation.

“Right.” Donatello nodded, and pointed over at the dinosaur. “I see no oxygen tank. If he had one to begin with, it’s gone now, and yet he’s still up and walking.”

“I… don’t remember any oxygen tank.” Leo shook his head.

“That’s because it probably wasn’t an oxygen mask. Not if all five of your dinosaurs were wearing ‘em in a place where there was quite clearly oxygen. That, my dear friends, is a pattern, not a coincidence. If they all had it, chances are it’s some sort of filter, like they’re meant to be breathing something that’s not our air. And if someone from our planet breathes in something that isn’t oxygen…”

“It kills them?” Leo wasn’t following.

“Yes, and no. How about you?” Donatello pointed at Donnie.

“It can cause… delirium, confusion… hallucinations…” Donnie was following perfectly.

“Who’s to say the effects aren’t the same for someone like him?”

“You’re saying he’s deprived of some type of breathing apparatus?” Donnie’s eyes lit up like the skies on the Fourth of July, “It makes sense!”

“And it would explain the confusion.” Leonardo said.

Leo, wanting desperately to get on to a more important subject, urged, “Do you think he’s dangerous?”

“Yes.” Donatello answered confidently, “But he also thinks dear Donald here is his beloved General Mozar, and we should keep it that way.”

“General…” The dinosaur called,. “Awaiting orders…”

“Uh. At ease?” Donnie offered.

The dinosaur stared at him for the longest time, trying to decipher why his bold and brash commander had spoken so strangely before lowering his arms to his side. Donnie cleared his throat and stepped forward away from the group, trying to make himself as big as possible which wasn’t much of a task for the tree-like turtle.

“Remind me of your name and rank again, soldier.” Donnie’s voice slowly gained more confidence and tone, and the dinosaur seemed to be excited by it.

“Major Traximus of the Ygthian fleet, serving our great and powerful Prime Leader.”

“That’s right.” It felt almost fun being in a position of power, and it quickly went to Donnie’s head. “My command for you, Major Traximus, is to help me escort these… diplomats back to their home.”

“Yes Commander Mozar…” Traximus bowed the immensity of his head. “As you command…”

Though one could expect a beast of such immense proportion to lumber at an awkward gait, it was quite the opposite as Traximus walked with such speed and determination. The turtles parted to allow him plenty of space to pass by them. He was a man— or alien— on a mission that would stop for nothing. Glances were exchanged, followed by ‘what else are we gonna do?’ shrugs and curious excitement as the turtles were quick to keep up with the charging titan.

“How’d he get through anyway?” Raph asked; he was the one now holding Splinter, cradling the rat to his chest and still working absently to dry his fur.

“He was the one chasing us back in our world.” Leo said, “Maybe he got through the rift, ended up in the sewers. Lord knows the time rift had ask of us scattered to the winds.”

“Awesome…” Mikey breathed, followed up with, “I told you he was out here!”

“Yeah…” Both Leo and Raph faltered their steps, “You did…”

They made good time getting back to the lair where Yoshi and April were sat together at the living room coffee table assembling a puzzle; it was one activity that Yoshi didn't need help with, since the pieces were so big and obvious, and the old rat took great pride in each success. April, like her turtle brothers, had grown and matured greatly. She had forgone her usual buns in favor of tight braids clinging to her scalp and cascading to just above her shoulders, and she wore a modest yellow jumpsuit and rubber rain boots, perfect for traversing the wet ick of the sewer. One thing was familiar about her, however, and it was that same green coat she had been wearing since her younger adolescent. April looked up when she heard their approach, the smile turning to her mouth hanging open and her eyes bulging.

“Holy Jurassic Park…”

Leonardo took Splinter from Raph’s arm and immediately whisked him away, leaving Raph with his empty arms still out in a cradle, pouting and desperately pawing at the air that had once been his dad. Donnie parted from the group and tried follow Leonardo to the infirmary, but the red eared slider stopped him.

“I got him; you and the guys take care of our little… guest over there.” And Leonardo motioned to Traximus, who was still and awaiting orders.

“Oh. Right.” Donnie watched Leonardo leave like a distressed puppy watching his owner go to work without him. Seeking some guidance, Donnie turned to his brother. “Leo?”

“Maybe we… get him something to eat?” Leo offered.

“What do dinosaurs eat anyway?” Raph huffed; now without anything to hold, he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Nothing that still exists.” Donnie muttered bitterly, and his eyes passed over the orange dinosaur trying to make better sense of the alien presence.

“Well, he is an alien dinosaur.” Michelangelo pointed, “Maybe he eats something different.”

“If it’s alien, it still won’t be on our planet, Michael.” Donatello added.

“Oh.” Michelangelo’s expression deflated.

“But we can still try.” Leo said, arms motioning widely as he called attention to himself, “We need to make his comfortable before we can get anything out of him.”

“Are we sure he even knows anything?” Donatello asked, and he was looking absently at his nails, “Doesn’t look like there’s much happening upstairs.”

It was true that Traximus’ eyes did look remarkably empty, but Donnie wasn’t convinced he was completely gone. The dinosaur could talk, and could obey orders, even if he couldn’t recognize them as not being from his own species. And they had been there for two days now! He didn't know a damn thing about alien triceratops digestion, or how long they could go without food, but he did know a thing or two about empathy. Did this triceraton need food? Maybe. Water? Maybe. Donnie would make sure the creature didn't go without either.

“Major Traximus?”

The triceraton snorted and shook his head as he brought his focus to attention at the call of his commander.

“Would you care to… indulge in… sustenance?” Donnie tried to choose his words carefully, but it was difficult, if not impossible, with knowing next to nothing about who he was meant to be portraying.

Traximus tilted his head to one side, and then the other. “Commander Mozar…?”

“Yes, that’s me.” Donnie gulped, raising his head a little higher and keeping his expression still and serious. With eyes as beady and small as Traximus’, he wasn’t sure the alien could even see him. “You must be hungry soldiers. Follow me to the… dining room and select something to eat.”

Without another word, Donnie turned on his heels and guided the way to the kitchen. Traximus, confusion evident on all of his features, trailed behind with the gaggle of curious turtles following him. They got to the kitchen and he surpassed Donnie, intent on obeying the command and maybe just plain starving as he pulled the fridge door open— more like ripped it off its hinges— and began to dig around inside. The turtles watched in curious awe.

Now that they weren’t in immediate danger of being trampled and crushed by this titan of a creature, it was like they couldn’t stop watching him. Something not human, not yokai, not mutant— something new! You didn't have to be Donnie to see the beauty in this new creature, nor to feel a desperate urge to know more and more about them! Raphael was practically exploding with excitement. He had always wanted to be so close to a dinosaur but now it was happening? He could hardly breathe! The kitchen was barely big enough for them all, but they managed to crowd around in such a way that they all could get a good view of what was happening.

Traximus picked up the gallon of milk first, shaking it a bit and then promptly discarding it. In fact, he discarded all the liquid, tossing drinks behind him and letting them shatter and spill over the floor. Not even Michelangelo cared about the mess made of his precious ingredients— not when it was this beautifully intricate creature doing it! Once all the liquid contents were out of his way, Traximus began a long pattern of selecting food, taking a bite, deciding he didn't like it, and tossing it carelessly. This process continued on until the fridge was almost barren and Michelangelo was finally regretting not intervening sooner. One of the final things left in the fridge, chili peppers, were the next thing Traximus grabbed.

“Wait— maybe you shouldn’t—” Raphael tried a little too late, as Traximus was already shoving a handful into his mouth, stems and seeds and all.

Everyone cringed, even Raph— who had taken on a hot pepper challenge many times again Leo and always somehow lost (he lost because Leo had switched out all of his own peppers for sweet peppers, but Leo would never admit that). They waited for the burn, for the scream, for the desperate scramble to find coolness. Instead, Traximus chomped happily and his mouth began to drool in response to the burning stimuli, his lips curling up as his tongue poked out to lap up all the drool that tried to escape. He dumped the rest of the basket into his mouth and dove back into the fridge in pursuit of more burning delights.

“We have a winner.” Raph said with a satisfied smirk.

Michelangelo’s eyes were firmly fixed on the mess at their feet. “And we have no dinner…”

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welcome-to-the-cafe · 3 years

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Shang-Chi (2021) Review Pt. 2

This one will be about the less character-relevant stuff, such as casting, props, settings, and design.

Easiest first: props and costumes.

A bit cool, a bit silly, and bit too "Chinese-themed".

The old Ten-Ring troops had normal armor for the time and age. The new Ten Ring troops looked like the Snake-Eyes fodder ninjas but with tassled helmets. Like I appreciate what they were going for, but...it look dumb dude. And what they were doing with only one hook sword? The electrified thing was cool, but y'all didn't use the bladed hand guard, the combo hook move, the spiked pommel...wasted potential smh. And then the electric arc crossbows....again I appreciate the idea, but that was silly, especially after we showed the Ten Rings sniper with a normal ass gun. Or, just go full sino-futurism and give me the chainsaw spiked club, the electrified monk's spade, taser three section staff.

The villager's clothes were too...saturated, and monochromatic. It kinda reminded me of Mulan (2020) actually, the white people's ancient Chinese clothing. In contrast, in the he TianLongBaBu wuxia series I've been watching, people dress in...normal earth tones. Oh also, too many fucking sandals, where are my black loafers and thick white socks, with rope bindings? Like the kind modern Shaolin monks wear?? The villager's weapons too. Only Xialing's was kind of interesting, the rest are vanilla staffs and sword+shield. Boooo. Where's the dragonscale fangtianhuaji? The dragonscale guandao? Ok I'm done. Just disappointed.

Wenwu's costumes were pure drip in every scene. Zero complaints.

Shang-Chi's letterman's jacket was my favorite costume to be honest. He should not have changed in the village. The final costume seemed a bit too...modern, but not quite to the level of the Black Panther suit. It just seemed like Western superhero top with a vaguely Chinese pattern on it. Or it looked kindof...southeast asian? Wish it had no sleeves.

Katy should've kept her Macau drip. The "traditional" robe just didn't look right.

Xialing looked the best in her inverse Bruce Lee colors crop top and sweats. Like damn.

Ying Li's robes' green is too saturated in my opinion, unnaturally. Same with Michelle Yeoh's character. Now that I think about it, I hardly ever see bright green in traditional Chinese clothes...or modern Chinese fashion. Her pristine white/biege wushu outfit is also meh for me.

Death Dealer's dark blue + yellow colors are quite striking, but a bit odd and out of place with the rest of the Ten Rings' getup. Perhaps it was intentional, since he's the elite trainer? I wish it was more modern, a la Snake Eyes' suit. I would also like to complain about his opera face makeup though; why only the top half? Is that even a real opera face design? It's kind of a dumb half-ass reference I think. Like, Noh masks are used all the time for creepy effect, why not Beijing Opera?

Next, CGI animals.

Morris the Hundun/Dijiang was cute, but I half expected him to suddenly go nuts and devour Slattery, since the Hundun is one of the primordial evil beasts. But Disney needs their marketable mascot. I even saw a Lego piece for him before the movie was released!

The trip through the other world was a bit too safari-like. Like wow, the Ninetails is just chilling by the road, and a herd of Qilin conveniently pass by. The execution of these creatures were fine, though the Qilin eyes were too "dead".

I don't have problems with the Lions' design, but they were completely unnecessary, and lowered the stakes for the final battle for me. Those two lions could literally tear apart all five of Wenwu's trucks in less than a minute.

I stated already, the big evil monster, the little soulsuckers, and the dragon are completely unnecessary to me. Even when I saw just the wood carving of the soulsucking bats, I felt disappointed. Xialing and Shangchi spent way too long riding the big dragon and not doing kungfu :/

Onto settings.

I just recently visited Bay Area! The hilliness of SF was nicely showed off by the bus fight.

Macao seemed well-grounded and normal for a modern Chinese metropolis. Was portrayed better than Tokyo was in Snake Eyes in my opinion. The bamboo scaffolding scene reminded me heavily of Rush Hour 2's Hong Kong fight, and I could hear Jackie Chan assuring us "don't worry, Chinese bamboo, very strong!".

The Ten Rings compound was...eh. No defining features to locate it anywhere real so whatever. But the interior was weirdly homey?

The Ta Lo village is what I really want to complain about: why they gotta throw Chinese people back to the Xia dynasty like that? Straw huts? Really? And there was a total of like 7 buildings there, across a tiny area. That is not a village, it's a medium-sized temple complex. Kung Fu Panda 3's hidden panda village was loads more impressive, with interesting geography. This was on a flat plane next to a pond. Combined with the costuming, it's like hello, it's hokey Western orientalism again.

Casting.

Tony Leung. Perfect. Outstanding. Phenomenal. Sexy as hell. I have recovered fully from Lust, Caution. I see on Tiktok that westerners are thirsting after him, and I am very satisfied. The "Killmonger-Loki" Effect is now the "Wenwu-Killmonger-Loki" Effect. I only wish he were younger, because I hate the "daddy" kink. Mr. Leung, you are a hero to Asian-American men. Thank you.

Awkwafina. Yeah she is pretty good as the unabashed ABC friend. But lately, I feel she has been over-used as the main Chinese-American actress. On some social media, I have seen Black users complain of her 'blaccent' and vow to boycott Shang-Chi in protest. I'm inclined to defend her, as it is probably what she grew up with, and the boycott feels like another attempt to draw moral hierarchical divisions between minorities. Similar sentiment is "yall didn't come out for Black Panther, why should we come out for Shang-Chi?". I don't have any data as to whether 'we' did come out for Black Panther, but I generally disapprove of POC factionalism.

Simu Liu. I'm glad that Westerners are thirsting over him too. I'm glad he's very enthusiastic and affable, and well-liked in the Asian-American community. He's us! And he got a shirtless scene! But the catch is...he doesn't fit the current Chinese standard for "hot guy actor".

From the majority angle: that's toxic af. He's hot enough, why are we being so picky with dumb Asian beauty standards? Will we ever properly support ourselves? Like damn, this is the first Asian-American lead in a goddamn Marvel movie, and this is how you treat him?? By the Heavens.

From the other angle: his eyes are small, his jaw kind of round, head kind of wide. Not the most masculine, but definitely not feminine. He's a normal Chinese-American dude. Chinese dude, Harbin, Heilongjiang born. Compare that to Chris Hemsworth, Chris Evans, Paul Rudd, Chris Pratt, Sebastian Stan, Chadwick Boseman, Anthony Mackie, etc. These are among the finest western specimens; why did the pick the Asian hero to be played by the 'normal-looking' dude? Was Jackson Wang not available? Or Ludi Lin? I personally have a suspicion that his appearance most fits the stereotypical look of an Asian man to Western audiences, and that's why he was cast.

He's received hate for this, from Reddit r/aznidentity, the sub that I frequent, which currently is cheering Shang-Chi's box-office success. That's toxic af, and must be heartbreaking for him. Unfortunately, it's part of the larger conflict of Western and Eastern media, representation, markets, and culture. And that's a big fish to wrangle in part 3.

#shang chi #simu liu #awkwafina #kevin watches #asian american #tony leung

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

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The Comment Section

A/n: as a technically plus size girl myself i really liked writing this! feel free to request again after I finish the rest of the ones I have now! (sry this is not thoroughly edited)

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: cussing, mentions of hate

Requested by: anonymous

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe @poeticallyspaghetti @hanstagrams @yangomangos @hoes4hoseok @desertfordessert

Summary: Being on the larger side had never stopped you from anything before. You were confident in your curves and loved how you looked. It was one of the reasons that Han Jisung fell head over heels in love with you. Who would have thought a few silly little pictures would turn your world upside down.

Genre: fluff, little angst, romance

✯

Meeting Jisung was a complete accident. A complete accident that changed my life forever. I was a lost foreign exchange student desperate to find her way back to her dorm in the hot summer streets of Seoul. By pure chance, I had bumped into him on the street. I had no idea who he was at the time and he seemed to find that fascinating.

We ended up walking together until the sun set and the store signs lit up casting neon glows on our faces. Soon we both got lost wandering through the streets talking about everything and nothing in my broken korean and his adorable english.

Jisung bought me dinner and then we finally found my dorms. He left me with the promise to take me out and get lost again. And that was the start of our relationship. About our fifth date, Jisung told me about his job and who he was. He was utterly shocked that I didn’t freak out about his celebrity status. He always said that what I told him after was when he began falling in love with me.

“Whether you sing in front of thousands of people, pick up garbage on the side of the road, or teach pre-schoolers not to pick their noses, I would rather be with you than any other place or with any other person on the planet.”

Now a year and a half later, we were dating and living together in an apartment near the company. Jisung was quite upset that he had to keep our relationship a secret. The company after many attempts at breaking us up gave in and let him continue our relationship despite his dating ban, but only if he kept quiet about it and nothing got leaked to the press.

This meant we rarely got to go out unless both of us wore masks and hats and for five months out of the year, I was sitting at home waiting for Jisung to come back from tour trying to pretend like I didn’t have a boyfriend to begin with. But, it was all worth it. Jisung was worth it.

“Yes, dad. I promise I’m eating well.” I said looking at my father through a computer screen. My ears picked up on Jisung moving behind me to open the fridge and I knew what was about to happen next.

“Jisung!” My father called. Hearing his name he turned and leaned over me to look at my father. “Jisung, how are you?” My dad smiled and turned to focus on my boyfriend.

Jisung laughed seeing me drop my head in my hands. He leaned against the counter, a bright smile on his face. “I’m fine, Mr. L/n.”

“How many times have I told you? Just D/n is fine. Now, is she eating well? I know she has exams. You have to make sure my daughter is eating!” Jisung’s arm wrapped around my stomach, pulling me to his side.

“Of course! We are going out to eat soon actually.” He said cheerfully, pushing the hair away from my face.

I jumped at the opportunity Jisung secretly handed me. “Yes, Dad! So, we have to go! I love you, talk to you later, bye!” Jisung waved before I slammed my laptop closed, effectively hanging up on my father. “Can we really go out to eat?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his waist. He smiled taking my face in his hands, squishing my cheeks.

“Of course. I’m starving.” Placing a kiss on my forehead he exited the kitchen. While he was doing whatever he was doing, I ran to our bedroom and changed out of the pajamas I had worn all day.

Grabbing some shorts and one of Jisung’s shirts I started tying my shoes. How any of his clothes fit me at all was a mystery to me. Jisung was a twig compared to me. Granted he was a very muscular twig. But a twig none the less.

Jisung smiled seeing me in the baggy white fabric that covered my shorts entirely. He leaned against the doorway, dark hair falling in front of his doe eyes. He didn’t bother changing out of his gray sweatpants and tank top. “I never get tired of seeing you in my clothes.”

“I never get tired of wearing them.” He smirked, watching me get up from the bed and walk over to him. I let my hands travel up his chest as he looked down at me. “Are we taking the car or the subway?” I whispered, leaning up and kissing his lips. A cheeky smile slip onto his face as his hands grabbed onto my ass.

“I heard it’ll rain soon. Subway?” I nodded and kissed him again, fingers threading through his hair. “Ready to go, baby?” With another nod, we left our apartment, masks on and hats covering our faces. Instinctively, I pulled the white cap on Jisung’s head lower to cover his handsome features. He did the same with the black bucket hat (which was probably his) that I wore.

Just as Jisung said, a light sprinkled down on us as we walked to the nearest subway station. Unfortunately, the train was crowded, leaving no seats for me and Jisung. We got a few weird looks, most likely because of the excessive face covering.

We shared low whispers about where to eat and bickered about what stop to get off at. I turned out to right and dragged him off with train, just before the doors closed. Laughing, we ran through the rain to get to our favorite sushi place.

The woman who owned the restaurant greeted us happily when we entered, ushering us to a secluded back table. Jisung didn’t even look at the menu before ordering enough food to fill every inch of the table.

“How is the new album coming?” I said picking up a piece of fish. He nodded cheeks half full of food. I smiled seeing his little habit resurface itself.

“Good. I sent a song off to Chan this afternoon. He and I will work on composition tomorrow.” His long fingers maneuvered the chopsticks to place another roll onto my plate. I tried to put it back but he shook his head, adding another one as well. “How are your classes?”

“Stressful, but manageable. You know the girl next to me in my Maths class is a STAY. She has Seungmin’s photocard in her phone case.” Jisung smiled eating another piece of sushi. “Her phone rang in class the other day. Guess what her ringtone was?”

He hummed and looked up at me expectantly. “What?” He said covering his mouth, silver rings glinting in the low warm light.

“Close.” Jisung’s eyes lit up as he started laughing.

“I almost got in so much trouble when I released that song.” He said dipping a roll in soy sauce. “STAY almost figured out about us.”

“Well, you did all but put my name in the song,” I said with a laugh. Somehow we had managed to eat all the food on the table. “Did you really feel that way when we met?” I asked him, my elbow resting on the table.

A waitress came and cleared our table. Jisung stared at me, a soft look in his eyes. “Of course. You were the most gorgeous girl I had ever laid eyes on.”

“You are just saying that because you thought I had a great ass.”

“It is a great ass.” He said eyeing me up and down, a sly smirk on his face. “We should get going. It’s already raining cats and dogs.” Jisung paid for our meal and shoved his black hat back on my head with a smile, draping his arm over my shoulder as we walked out. He was correct. The rain was pelting down on the streets like bullets. “You ever been kissed in the rain?” He asked out of nowhere.

That mischievous smile glowed on Jisung’s face. “No, why?”

Without another word, Jisung pulled me out into the rain, soaking us both. His brown hair turned dark and stuck to his forehead as he pulled down my mask. My eyes glanced around the nearly empty street, before staring back into Jisung’s bright eyes. His long fingers lifted up my chin before resting on my cheek. The cool rain dropped around us, but I felt warm in his arms.

His lips dragged over mine, butterflies thundering in my stomach along with the rumble in the sky. My chest pressed against his, the wet fabric rubbing together. His teeth cheekily dragged over my bottom lip as I pulled away.

“Get out of the street!” Someone yelled honking their horn. Jisung and I turned to see a car’s headlights shining through the rain. We laughed and moved back under the awning. “Crazy kids!” The man yelled as he drove passed us.

I kissed Jisung again, tangling my fingers in his wet hair. “I love you,” Jisung whispered, pulling away. “All of you,” His hands ghosted over the curve of my hips. “Do you love all of me?”

“More than anything, Jisung.”

The cool rain sent a breeze under the cover. He pulled me closer to him kissing the top of my head. “Home?” He muttered looking around the wet street.

“Home.”

I pulled the dark fabric over his face, leaving nothing but his round lively eyes for me to see. His warm hand enveloped mine before we ran through the rain. Our feet splashed through puddles as each step brought us closer to the train that would carry us back to our little apartment.

✯

Bright light streamed through the bedroom window. An arm was wrapped tightly around my stomach. I smiled and shifted under the blanket so I could look at the handsome face of the man next to me. My eyes glanced at the clock before reaching over and stroking his hair.

“Jisung?”

He hummed, nestling into the pillow. I smiled feeling him reach for my hand and bring it to his lips. Drowsy kisses from his plump tired lips trailed over my skin. “You saying my name in the morning is so sexy.” My laugh filled the bedroom. His raspy voice never failed to send shivers down my spine.

“You think anything I say is sexy.” Jisung’s eyes slowly opened and his hands moved to rub his face, the muscles in his arms flexing ever so slightly. My fingers traced patterns over his bare chest, the skin radiating a welcoming warmth under my touch.

“No way. Prove it.” He said with a goofy smile.

Chuckling, I kissed his cheek. I thought about what to say. Leaning down, my breath fanned across his cheek. “I have to go shopping because we have no ramen left in the kitchen.” My words floated into his ear and I could see his cheeks redden at my tone.

Jisung groaned, pulling me fully on top of him. “Yeah, you were right. Anything you say is sexy.” He laid still for a moment, his hands rubbing up and down my back. “Do you need money for groceries?” He hummed. Shaking my head, I sat up, legs falling on either side of his waist. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Ji. You don’t have to pay for everything, you know.” He laid back with a smile on his face, hands behind his head. Jisung stared up at me keeping that sleepy bright grin on his face. “You should get up. You’ll be late before you know it.”

A sigh heaved from his chest as he watched me leave the bed. It was evident his eyes were trained on me as I sorted through our shared closet. “You’re right.” The rustling of sheets told me he was shuffling out of bed and most likely towards the bathroom to shower.

Soon I was walking Jisung to the cab he had called down in front of our building. The fabric of my leggings brushed together as I rushed forward pulling him back for one more kiss before he entered the taxi. “Don’t forget, we have a date with pizza and a drama tonight,” I whispered against his lips.

His long fingers gripped my waist, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. His warm touch slipped into the waistband leaving something paperlike between the tight fabric and my skin. “For the groceries.” Jisung pecked my lips before getting into the cab. “Love you!” He called, rolling down the window.

Waving back, I watched the car pull away from the curb and drive my boyfriend to his company. Curious, I reached for the money he slipped me. Had I worn a hoodie and not a crop top, he wouldn’t have been able to do so easily. It was a habit he had of spoiling me and paying for things despite my protests. “Good grief, Ji,” I muttered to the near empty street.

My feet carried me to a nearby supermarket. I walked the aisles tossing anything we needed into the cart I picked up at the entrance. My hands lingered on a bag of chips, debating whether I actually needed the study snack. Jisung never cared how much weight I put on or how much I lost. I was confident in how I looked, so I wanted chips. I would get chips. Smiling I tossed them in the basket before moving to the next aisle to pick up a few bottles of wine and soju. I never knew when Chan and Changbin would pop by for a ‘lyric session’ and need ‘inspiration’

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two girls whispering and looking my way. More than a year with Jisung had taught me to have an observant eye in public places whether he was with me or not. They stopped their talk when I turned to look at them. After placing the bottle in my cart I waved to them with a kind smile before going on my way.

Jisung returned later than usual. But, then again. There was no usual for when he came home. He passed out on the couch while I ordered us a pizza. While I waited, I lazily scrolled through twitter until something caught my eye.

“Rapper Han Jisung Spotted With Supposed Secret Girlfriend”

My eyes skimmed the article searching for any proof. My heart sunk finding what I sought. Several pictures of Jisung and me from the day before were shown below. Our faces were seen as clear as day despite the rain. We should have been more careful. I sighed, head in my hands. Curious, I scrolled to see what his fans were saying.

“I can’t believe this”

“So he really was seeing someone?”

“She’s so fat! She doesn’t deserve him”

“My friend and I saw her at the supermarket. She had like eight bottles of soju in her cart. Alcoholism puts on wait you know.”

“She’s a drunk and fat. I can’t believe she’s dating our Han.”

“She looks like a cow. Seriously I understand why he hid her from us.”

“Guys, stop. If he is happy then leave him alone.”

“He looks disgusted in those photos”

“Does she not care about herself? She’s dating one of the greatest rappers in the industry and she looks like a heavy slob.”

I tossed my phone onto the kitchen counter, not wanting to look a the comments anymore. My shoulders felt heavier than usual. Shower. A hot shower always made me feel better. Abandoning my device, which was blowing up with notifications, on the counter I marched to the bathroom and turned on the water letting steam fill the room.

The scalding water pelted against my bare skin as I stood under the showerhead. After my skin turned red, I stepped out of the shower, wiping steam away from the mirror.

My eyes raked over the body I once thought beautiful. How could my mind change so quickly? The curves I used to love now seemed ghastly and unflattering. The rolls on my stomach seemed more prominent as I looked over my bare body. My fingers traced over the waved marks on my thighs and pelvis, wondering how I never noticed them before today.

“Y/n, baby?” A knock sounded at the door but did not wait for an answer to open. Instinctively, my hands slammed it shut shocking the man on the other side. “Woah- Babe, what’s wrong? Are you okay? It’s nothing I haven’t seen many many many times before.” The smirk in his voice was evident, but I still felt exposed, despite the towel I moved to wrap around myself.

“Just go away. I’ll be out in a sec. There is beer and soju in the fridge. Go get one; the pizza will be here soon.”

I waited until I heard Jisung walk away before turning the knob and sneaking into our bedroom. My fingers grasped at the first baggy shirt I could find, but looking in the mirror it hugged in places that should not be hugged and made my body look lumpy and fat. Throwing on some leggings and one of Jisung’s fluffy jackets I decided this was enough coverage suitable to walk around in.

Jisung’s eyes widened when I entered the living room. “Wow. You planning an expedition to Antarctica?”

“I’m just cold, Jisung.” He watched with wary eyes as I pull the jacket further around my body. The doorbell rang turning both our heads. “I’ll get it.” Jisung nodded and picked up the remote, turning on the TV.

Opening the door I expected to see a pizza delivery man waiting for his tip, but instead, the hallway was empty. Before I closed the door, my gaze landed on something on the welcome mat.

A bouquet of wilted, dried, dead flowers. A ribbon darker than black was wrapped around the fragile stems. With shaking hands, I picked up the flowers. Petals and leaves fell to the ground. A note was tucked between the graying stems.

Fat Bitch.

Subconsciously, I pulled the jacket around my body, covering as much as possible. “Y/n? Everything okay? They didn’t forget my garlic knots, right? They forgot last time.” Jisung’s voice called out. My eyes still stared down at the bouquet in my hands. “Baby?”

I felt cold. It felt like I wasn’t in my own body; like my soul had left this world leaving me a shell standing with no will of its own.

“What the fuck is this?”

Shaking myself out of the trance, I looked to see Jisung standing beside me anger flooding every inch of him. Not waiting for an explanation he took the bouquet from my hands, more petals falling to the floor. The note seemed to make him even angrier.

“Fuck,”

I closed the door and watched him throw the flowers onto the counter, sending dead leaves flying across the kitchen floor. He turned to me, fury in his eyes. He seemed to be waiting for me to say something. “We both knew this was going to happen sooner or later.” His jaw dropped, not believing my words.

“You aren’t furious? You aren’t pissed off? Why are you not bothered by this?”

“Jisung, I can’t be bothered by something I already know is true!”

He stared at the flowers littering the counter. “You can’t possibly think that...can you?” Jisung sighed watching me shrug and fiddle with the sleeves of his jacket. “Y/n...this is not you. What happened to the girl who surprised me in my studio wearing nothing but a trench coat and lingerie just because I said I missed your smile?” My gaze fell to the floor, fixated on one of the leaves. “Where’s the girl who went skinny dipping with me on the night of our anniversary in Jeju?”

“I don’t know, Jisung!” He was shocked hearing me yell. “They are right! Okay! I am a fat cow with no reason to be dating you. I’m not sexy and skinny and I don’t have the body of a model. You know who does? The girl you should be dating! Maybe I just don’t like myself anymore!”

“The Y/n I know and love didn’t care how much she weighed.”

“Well...maybe I’m not your Y/n anymore.”

“That I don’t believe.” Jisung took my face in his hands, staring into my eyes. “I know about the photos. I know about the comments. They are all false, okay? None of them are true and you know it.” His thumbs brushed over my cheeks, voice full of desperation and sadness.

“Jisung, I’m not beautiful. I don’t feel beautiful anymore. I don’t see how you can love someone who can’t even see themselves as pretty.”

He sighed, leaning down and capturing my lips in a breathtaking kiss. I could feel all his emotions, everything he wanted to say as his lips moved against mine. Jisung pulled away, his eyes looking lovingly into my own. “I don’t love you because you are beautiful,” He whispered, pushing a strand of wet hair behind my ear. “You are beautiful because I love you. All of you.”

“Even the stretch marks?”

“The stretch marks. The curves. All of you.”

Sighing, I rested my head against his chest. “Why did I even think that?” Jisung let out a shaky breath stroking my still damp hair. “Shit, I was so stupid to believe those comments for even a second.”

“I can’t blame you. I’ve done the same.”

Pulling away, my hands cupped his cheeks before moving to wrap around his neck. “I love you,”

“I love you more.” Jisung kissed my forehead, dark hair falling in front of his eyes. A thought came to mind that made me giggle. “What?” He asked with a smile, leading me back over to the couch.

“How did you even remember that studio thing? That was like...in the first month we were dating!”

He laughed, pulling me into his chest and falling back onto the sofa. “Are you kidding? That may have been the single greatest day of my entire life.”

“You are just a pervert.” Again the doorbell rang, causing both of our heads to peek over the top of the couch cushions. “Can you get it?” Jisung nodded and got out from under me. A few moments later he came back with two pizzas and his beloved garlic knots. “They didn’t forget?”

“Nope!” He said happily flipping open the boxes. “Here.” He pulled one away and fed it to me, the fluffy breading melting in my mouth.

“You know what I think?”

“What?” He asked already somehow halfway through the box of garlic knots.

“I think I can eat this entire pizza faster than you.”

He closed the garlic knot box, a wry grin on his face. “Oh, you are so on, babe.” He planted his feet firmly on the floor and turned to his pizza box. “Ready? Three....two....-” Before he finished counting down I grabbed a slice and stuffed it in my mouth. “Y/n that’s cheating!” Between bites, I laughed as I watched him try and catch up from my early start.

“Come on, twig boy! Catch up.” He laughed and shoved another slice into his mouth filling his cheeks.

✯

Requests are Temporarily Closed! Sorrrrrryyyy

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