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Kintsugi
Shoji x reader, meet-cute feat. angst
(warnings: harassment, heteromorph discrimination, past abuse)
The station was nearly empty. It wasn't unusual, out in the boonies of Fukuoka. But after living in the city for so long, the quiet had become unfamiliar.
Anywhere else, Shoji would have found the fresh air and birdsong peaceful. But out here, it just felt like waiting for something bad to happen.
He didn't even tell his closest friends the real reason for this trip home. If he did, they'd insist on supporting him. They would mean well, but it was easier this way, not having to look out for anyone else. Who knows how the villagers would react if he came back with more freaks.
And, it's not like Mezo really needed his friends there to share in his grief. This was more for closure. When he cried at his grandfather's funeral, the tears were borne of relief, much to his shame.
The wounds on Mezo's face still ached when he moved his mouth to talk or chew. So, he learned how to make more parts with his quirk. Instead of just making mouths for fun or company as he had when he was very little, he added vocal cords, then a rudimentary esophagus. It was difficult, a lot of trial and error. But the payoff proved it had been a worthwhile use of his time.
Mezo sat at the dinner table with his family. The mask his parents had given him covered the more substantial bandages. He resented knowing that it was there so no one had to look at those reminders of his torn visage. At the same time, there was an undeniable comfort to wearing the thing. A shield between himself and the hateful world.
The stitches pulled when he smiled under the mask, but he couldn't help the feeling of elation at eating solid food without pain for the first time in weeks. Unfortunately, the sight of his new, unorthodox method of mastication had mixed reactions.
Mom pointedly ignored it, ever reluctant to disturb the peace. Grandpa was quietly side-eyeing the display, giving a difficult to read scoff and turning back to his plate with a smirk when Mezo nervously glanced over. Dad took the longest to notice, pinching the bridge of his nose when he did. "Geez, Mezo."
"Sorry. Hurts less," he explained, hoping that would be the end of it.
Surprisingly, it was Grandpa who jumped to his defense. "Let him eat that way son, I think it's great!"
Mezo looked at his grandfather with utter shock. That cheerful statement was easily the kindest thing he had ever said about his grandson, whose birth had been a curse upon the family. Mezo had half a mind to thank him for standing up for him, until the old man spoke again.
"I can almost look at him while eating, now that the face is covered up. Can't you get the lil monster to wear sleeves, too?"
"...M'not a monster, o-jiisan."
It was the first time he'd spoken up like that. The adults all looked shocked by Mezo's soft utterance of self defense. Until shock twisted into anger on the old man's face, and then-
Shoji's hand subconsciously went to his side, remembering the welt from the cane, the scolding from his mom not to backtalk grandpa. She always did that, always tried to appease him, to make him forget his suspicion that the dirty blood came from his daughter in law straying, even though his own quirk was extending arms.
Trapped deep in thought, Mezo didn't notice anyone sneaking up behind him until it was too late. Two boys, mid teens by the look of it, ran past suddenly, bumping into him on both sides, whooping excitedly. There was a tearing sound as Shoji's mask was suddenly ripped down. "OOPS!"
His heart was racing instantly, the pounding of blood in his ears making the laughter and comments sound eerily distant. "Ho-o-oly shit what's wrong with your face?!"
He froze. Shoji's legs felt glued in place, and for a moment he suspected the use of a quirk. Until he realized, it was just his own mind forcing a panic response.
Any other day, any other place, Mezo was sure he could have reacted more heroically. Calm, cool, collected. Perhaps spoken to them, or at the very least, gathered himself and remained dignified. But all of his emotions were already so raw, a feeling like rope burn from old memories binding in this place. This was just salt in the wound.
Finally, he forced an arm to move, shoving the mask back up. The second he let go, it started slipping again. His fingers brushed a huge tear in the fabric. Did he have a spare? He had to have a spare, it was probably in his bag, was he going to tear through his luggage right here and now, they were still talking, why couldn't he move?
Then a new voice chimed in, one that held no laughter as it barked, "HEY!" Still giggling, the pranksters skittered off before the risk of consequence could catch up. Firm footsteps drew closer, before finally stopping beside Shoji. "Little jackasses...hey, you okay?"
"Yeah, fine." He barely glanced at the woman who had jogged over to check on him, too embarrassed by the need for a rescue. Taking a deep breath to ground himself, he tried to put on a stoic mask. "Sorry for troubling you."
You scoffed. "You didn't do anything." His eyes finally found yours. Anticipation roiled in his belly as you curiously looked at his face, at his hand pulling the blue fabric tight over his skin to keep the halves together. "Did they do that?"
You thought a moment, then hesitantly spoke. "...I've got a sewing kit in my bag. You can sit with me during the ride."
"The mask, yeah. It's fine, it's just a thing. I have another." Yet, when he took his bag over to a bench to dig through its contents, the spare was nowhere to be found. It was probably sitting somewhere in his parents' house. Well, might as well consider that one lost forever. "Damnit... Nevermind, this is my only one."
It took a moment for Shoji to recognize the offer for what it was. "...oh! I don't want to impose."
You shrugged. "It's kind of a long trip, this'll give me something to do."
~~~
Mezo waited until the two of you were situated on the train to give up on the vain effort to hold his mask together. Pulling the torn garment over his head, he meekly passed it to you.
Your eyes briefly lingered on the scars, but Shoji was grateful when no questions followed the look. Instead, you focused on looking the fabric over to determine what exactly needed to be done. "...It looks worse that it is, I'll be able to tack it no problem. It's a clean tear, just in a bad spot. Want me to try and match the color and hide it, or you want it to pop?"
"Pop?"
"Yeah, like, make it a decoration, like a kintsugi thing. Use a bright color to make a line of stitches. It's gonna be a few hours, I could even try a little embroidery."
"You don't have to go through all that trouble, really, as long as I can wear it again that's enough." He felt bad enough, that you were fixing the consequence of him not paying attention. He felt strangely worse when he noticed the slightly disappointed look in your eyes as you selected a matching thread to hide the wound in his mask.
Silence found the two of you as you began the delicate operation. Uncomfortable silence, from Shoji's perspective.
"...what's kintsugi?"
"Hm?" You acknowledged without pausing your work.
"Kintsugi. You said it before."
"Oh! It's a ceramic technique where you use a gold paste to repair broken pieces. Instead of trying to hide the cracks, it draws attention to them, emphasizing them as something beautiful."
Shoji felt himself smile as he half joked, "if only that worked with real scars." His own words instantly made his stomach sour. Why would he say something like that to a near stranger? It was unbecoming to act so vulnerable. Couldn't he just keep that self pity inside, where it belongs.
Only, you didn't seem bothered by his spontaneous vulnerability. "I dunno. It's like body hair and birthmarks and cellulite, if you forget what you've been told about what's supposed to be attractive, then they're objectively very beautiful." As he considered the implications of your words, you went on. "Scars are really wonderful if you think about it. They're how your body shows its love for you, building you back stronger if you get hurt. Like, 'hey we're not done, let's get back out there!' I think that's lovely."
"It is, isn't it?" His eyes fell to the hidden repair on his mask. "...think you could do an octopus?"
You looked up at him then, excitement quickly overtaking your features. "I can try. And if it turns out looking godawful you only have to deal with it for a little while."
It didn't matter if it turned out poorly, he thought, nodding. He had already decided two things. One was that he'd wear it anyway, and keep it like a scar. So that when his friends asked how his trip went, he could show it to them and tell them about how he met someone so kind on the ride home.
The second was, when the time came to disembark, he would ask for your number.
~~~
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The boys from my class have a competition called "How long can I persuade the teacher till the others get a grade worse."
I was assigned a virtual class of first graders to observe and I'm obsessed with how they frame themselves in their zoom squares.
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he just a lil guy
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— YOU'RE SO DIVINE, YOU'RE IN YOUR PRIME
RECEIVERS。sugar daddy!nikolai gogol x fem!reader
WISHCARD。nikolai as your sugar daddy... with a little sweet twist! ♡
BOUQUET。n/sfw 18+, dark content, manipulation, age gap (nikolai's in 30s, reader's in 20s), power imbalance, choking
PRICE。approx. 2.2k
FREEGIFT。you (ari abdul), bathroom (montell fish)
ﾟ･✿ヾ meeting Nikolai is an unexpected event. he looks youthful, despite being in his thirties. his luxuries are subtle—he never mentions his job but you know it pays him well when you notice the brand of his shirt, his leather jacket, his sunglasses, his watch, his shoes, his pants. his fashion is classic yet he looks rich. as someone in their twenties, you surely would be interested with such possessions.
“Another?” Nikolai asks. His voice is sultry as he offers to buy you more and more drinks for the night. He doesn't even mind telling the bartender to add your glasses to his tab and he even encourages you to try the most expensive drink.
“Uhm...” you are a bit unsure. It would feel like you're digging the fuck out of his money, especially when this is the very first night you met this man. Nikolai however laughs, holding your hand to reassure you that his pocket won't drain just because of a couple more glasses.
Your heart beats fast when you feel the cold of his rings. You should have pulled away—it's dangerous. But instead, your fingers are twitching to trace every vein threading his hand.
ﾟ･✿ヾ he is a big tease. he knows the cues in your body language—your interest and eagerness to know him better, to be closer, to cross the border of just being acquaintances. but Nikolai wants more than just normality. he loves challenges and having fun. and certainly, he loves having his fun with an adorable freak.
You feel reluctant to leave the club without even getting any contact with the man you have been chatting with for hours, sharing subtle yet desiring touches. Your fingers still feel the coldness of his skin and you can still fantasise his hand on your thigh, lightly squeezing and caressing you.
Telling your friends to wait, you rush back inside, avoiding crowds and uninviting touches. The seats at the bar where you two were sitting are empty. You look around, trying to seek Nikolai again, hoping he is still around for a small talk. But your effort is futile. The night is still wild with neons and music.
As you just want to leave, mourning your lost chance, a strong arm slithers around your waist. A familiar chuckle shatters beside your ear and you can smell a burning cigarette. You turn, seeing the older man you yearn for the whole night smirking down at you.
He takes his cigarette off his lips before resting it between yours. You take a little drag of it and as you pull it away, letting the smoke leave your lips, Nikolai disappears once again. You turn, seeing no sight of him. In confusion, you look at the cigarette. On its white, there's a number.
ﾟ･✿ヾ contacting him is your everyday routine. it starts with innocent messages and calls—“how are you?” “have you eaten today?” “how does my outfit look?”—and it evolves to suggestive ones. him asking to see your nightwear, you sharing screenshots of the bags and dresses you wish to possess, him asking for nudes and you sharing shots in skimpy lingerie.
“This looks pretty, don't you think?” you ask him through the video call. You are out to buy some fast fashion items to go to a party this weekend. Unfortunately, Nikolai couldn't accompany you.
“The black one?” Nikolai asks, occasionally glancing to the other side as his hand is jotting something on a paper with a red pen. Despite how busy he seems, he does pay attention to your shopping matters. “How much is it?”
“Oh, it's...” you look at the black purse that you have been eyeing for the past ten minutes. You look at the price tag and you round up the cents. “It's like seventy-five dollars.”
Your phone pings and a notification appears at the top of the screen—Nikolai transferred $500!
ﾟ･✿ヾ you and Nikolai never declare your relationship. it just happens very naturally. he knows what you want and you are content with his attention. when you hear the stories your friends have with their sugar daddies, you wonder why Nikolai still does not ask for more than nudes and sexy photos from you. every time on a date, he just wants you to look pretty for him.
You're spending the night in his apartment, trying various silky dresses to match his suit for a socialite gathering he said he should attend tomorrow. You play dress-up in front of his mirror as he sits at the edge of the bed, legs spread, watching you contently.
“I like this one, what do you think?” you turn to him, posing to show him the garment. Nikolai just hums approvingly, smirking at the sight of your bare back in his view. He twirls his finger, gesturing to you to make a twirl for him. So you do, twirling like a princess in a garden.
“Hm, pretty. You look absolutely gorgeous. Why don't you try another? They're all gonna be yours anyway.” Nikolai says, pushing slightly another three dresses you have yet to try. Your eyes sparkle, looking at the beautiful expensive dresses that will be yours regardless.
But being aware of the nature of your relationship with him, you approach him shyly, sitting on his lap casually. The man only smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist. His palm rests on your bum, pulling you closer to his crotch.
“How should I please you, sir?” you whisper sensually right by his ear, kissing his neck so lightly that he only hums. Your maroon nails knead his hair, careful to not tug his braid. Your lips travel from his neck to his jaw before you kiss his lips shortly, only making Nikolai smile slyly.
“Just look pretty, baby,” he smirks. “You just need to look pretty for me. Come on, up and go dress another one, princess.”
ﾟ･✿ヾ going to a gathering as his partner feels like a reward. he does not treat you like an escort. when he notices you lightly shiver from the cold, he offers his coat. when he sees you are slightly adjusting your footing, he knows you need to sit and he sits with you. instead of carrying your own purse, Nikolai would gladly hold it for you. and when you are too bored while he is stuck in a conversation, he will excuse you two and bring you around to tell you stuff that might interest you. and most importantly, after all of that, he just gives you his card, giving you full access to buy whatever you want as your reward for today. he treats you as he would if you were his lover.
You may have overestimated how the rich eat. Small portions, big prices. You do not really want to look like you have never been into this kind of setting, but the meals are not satisfying for you at all. Not to mention, after walking around accompanying Nikolai, your feet feel sore.
“You okay?” Nikolai asks softly. He sits beside you, refusing to sit across. He says it feels nicer to have you closer to him. You only nod slowly but Nikolai is very observant when it comes to you. He calls the waiter, ordering a dessert. You turn to him, only for him to grin. “Desserts can make people happy.”
You chuckle a bit at his comment. As you eat the dessert, Nikolai only treats you the sweetest. Playing with your cheek, your dress and even caressing your thigh. He seems to have a hard time saying sweet nothings to you—“You're so beautiful tonight,” “You behave so well for me today,” “I'd treat you the world, baby,” “Never ever leave me, darling,”—It almost makes you forget the real relationship you two have.
ﾟ･✿ヾ maybe it's just one of his tactics to drive you to desperation but you certainly feel quite guilty for not doing the usual sugar-baby things to him back. he always spends and spends more for you. you purposely dress sexily beneath your sweater for him, you give him suggestive photos when he doesn't even ask, and you offer to pleasure him after he treated you hundreds worth of luxuries. when he finally allows you to ride him dumb, you feel too accomplished in life.
“Stupid face,” Nikolai chuckles as he seizes your jaw. Your hips are grinding hard on his cock, buried deeply in your tight cunt. You moan highly when he thrusts up suddenly, pushing his cock deeper.
Your hands clench the fabric of his tight-fitted turtleneck. He only lets his cock out and you do all the work. It arouses both you and him, seeing your reflection of you being half-naked while he's fully clothed. In your cleavage, there is a crumple of cash notes.
“Fuck...! Oh, gosh, you feel s'good..!” you whine when Nikolai pushes you to lie on your back on the bed as he thrusts into you, hard and fast. Your throat can barely hold the whimpers, filling his room with your sinful voice and his deep moans.
“Ha— your face is just so fucking pretty, malyshka. Should've fucked you back in the club, huh?” Nikolai snickers, seeing your face. Your tits are jiggling in your bra, spilling out the cash from its confine. His large hand travels to your pussy, rubbing your sensitive clit, making your legs tense up and wrap around his waist. Eyes shut, hands gripping his broad shoulders, your insides clench his girth and Nikolai curses out breathily, laughing softly at the warmth of your cunt.
As his other hand roam around your naked body that is scattered with the cash notes, you feel cold metal poking your skin. Up, up, up, it trails to enter your lips. Slightly gagging, your eyes slowly open, only to be met with a gun in your mouth.
ﾟ･✿ヾ it is getting weirder with your sugar daddy. not only he asks for your cunt whenever he's bored now, but he also makes you do bidding for him, such as delivering a package. you are about to protest cutely, hoping your doe eyes and pouty lips can melt his heart. of course, after he shoves his cock into your throat and transfers you another hundred of money, you have to do what he says. he is your daddy after all.
You are lying on the couch of his house, with nothing but panties and his shirt on, your eyes are focused on the television that is showing the news. Hands frozen, eyes widened, lips parted. You feel awfully familiar with this particular news.
News about a bombed car. The victim's identity is revealed to the screen. And you knew well who it was. It was the man you met this afternoon to give a package from Nikolai.
Your heart is beating fast. There's no way the package is the cause of the explosion, right?
You swallow hard, feeling nervous and uneasy. As you try to calm your heart, a hand wraps itself around your throat, slightly tightening its grip. You choke slightly and suddenly your head is pulled back, causing you to see Nikolai who has been standing behind you. He is smiling, very very very mysteriously. His hand is hard around your throat that you feel it's getting harder to breathe. Your lips are parted as you let out a broken whimper of being choked.
A few hundred notes are inserted into your drooling mouth before the grip around your neck loosens, allowing you to suck oxygen back into your lungs. Nikolai laughs, almost sounds sadistic, as he leaves you on the couch, struggling to breathe with money in your mouth.
ﾟ･✿ヾ you may never know who or what Nikolai actually is, and perhaps it's better for you that way. though, escape is no more of an option.
You have made yourself promise him to look sexy in his bed tonight. With white lingerie and stockings, you splay yourself on his bed, playing with the new phone he just bought for you the other day. When you hear the front door being opened, you immediately get up, grabbing his dress shirt to drape over your body.
“Welcome back—”
Your words are stuck in your throat as you see Nikolai's shirt smeared with blood and his hands are stained crimson, your lips are shut close as you step back. Nikolai blinks, seeming to be surprised you are here. He looks to the wall where he has hung his calendar.
“Oh, dearly. It seems I have forgotten.” he gasps. “What a blunder! Apologies, baby. You must have been shocked, aren't you? Woah, me oh my! A terrible, terrible mistakes! Now, how should I, a great clown, fool this situation out?” he giggles. His elegance is gone, only replaced by an eccentricity. With his stained hand, he turns the lock on the door.
“What—”
You have no time to react when Nikolai quickly gets to you, gripping your arm. His eyes are gleaming with a different kind of excitement. He slips his hand into his pocket before he takes out a few crumpled notes. He then slips the notes into your bra—“Hush money,” he says.
“No—” you try to take out the cash but Nikolai grabs your other wrist before he pulls you into his room. His sinister giggle echoes, sending shivers down your spine.
“I've already got you where I want. Now, shut your pretty mouth, alright? I got this.”
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Otto would be a truly terrifying yandere tbh. There's just no getting away from him, whether metaphorically or literally.
Mans has seemingly infinite money, is the Overseer of Schiksal, and is a master manipulator. He has people like Rita who will do anything he says. And in that one episode of Cooking with Valkyries he used the body of a young boy to spy on Theresa.
Do I even need to bring up the events of Thus Spoke Apocalypse?
You could literally die/commit suicide and he'd find a way to clone you like he did with Kallen. He is never giving up, either.
Made my day! XD
I really can imagine he would do something like that.
He'll grow back. He just need sunlight and fertilizer.