Instagram is so trash now it’s unbelievable. Nearly every post is an ad or a desperate attempt to shove content from people I don’t follow in my face. It’s impossible to protect your boundaries and energy on there; it’s such a violating space. And not least of all because you’re encouraged to constantly share your life and violate your own right to privacy and peace in order to post more content that generates revenue for a sociopathic misogynist billionaire (on a platform not just built to be addictive but that actually rewards addictive behaviour). And if you’re not posting then you’re consuming other people’s lives and work like it’s entertainment which just sickens me. It’s not being social. It’s not sharing. It’s actively objectifying us and turning lives into performance in such a grotesque way. Over it.
Kirishima bounced off his bed, phone in hand as he moved to open the door. It wasn’t unusual for Bakugou to come hangout with him when neither of them were working, but Kiri knew that Bakugou had guard duty for the prisoner. Odd that he was pounding at Kiri’s door.
“Hey Bakubro, what’s u-“
The redhead cut himself off as he opened the door, eyes quickly zeroing in on the gagged-and-bound female in his friend’s arms. A confused glance to Bakugou’s face allowed a glimpse of the blonds feral smile, before Bakugou pushed past Kiri, shoving the captive forward and into the room.
“Boss is done with ‘em - stupid girl really was just walking home. He was gonna off her but decided not to. He saw the way you’ve been eyein’ the poor thing like a piece of fucking meat and decided you get a new toy. Said you’ve been doing a good job lately or some shit.”
The wheels were turning in Kirishima’s head as he followed his friend, watching the blond push the girl down onto the bed, snickering meanly as he watched her struggle.
The poor thing had been walking - home apparently, after an exhausting shift at work - and had unfortunately taken a route that led her right into the middle of mafia territory. Kiri had been there that night, collecting debts and roughing up those who promised to pay later. He had seen the girl turn into the alley, watched as she meandered closer, not paying attention to her surroundings. The sound of a fist meeting flesh had startled her, head whipping up and taking in the scene before her. A particular client had lied about their payments, and they were being threatened, blackmailed.
The scared woman had barely run two steps before she was tackled to the ground.
She’d been held and questioned for about a week now, the big boss wanting to make sure she wasn’t just a snitch for a gang, or the rival mafia two cities over. It wasn’t surprising to Kirishima that it really was just a case of her being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was about the most innocent thing he’d ever seen in his life.
“How’d he know I wanted her?”
Bakugou scoffed, turning to the redhead with crossed arms.
“It hasn’t been exactly hard to fucking figure it out, Hair-for-brains. Every time it’s been your turn to guard her you get all excited like a goddamn puppy. Talking her ear off, smiling like a stupid fucking sap. It’s the most disgusting shit I’ve ever had to watch.”
Kirishima shrugged. Bakugou wasn’t wrong, but Kiri had been trying his hardest to be professional - big, mean, intimidating. He was a fucking mafia member, for gods sake. It looks like he had been a little too enamored to keep up his usual scary, manly exterior. Oh well, what’s done is done.
Bakugou was pushing past him again, leaving the female behind as he exited. He stopped at the door, turning his head to flash his friend a dangerous smirk.
“Have fun with your little gift.”
——
You glared up at the redhead, the man still facing towards the door his colleague had just exited. The gag in your mouth had your jaw stretched uncomfortably wide, forcing you to struggle to not drool. The rope binding your arms behind your back felt too tight, and it was itchy. In short - you were immensely uncomfortable, made even more so by the blond man’s terminology when he referred to you. A toy? A gift? You were nothing of the sort. You were your own person, with a life, a job, an apartment. You weren’t a little plaything.
“Hey, I’m gonna take the gag off for you, ‘kay?”
The redhead, Kirishima, was by your side, seated next to you on the bed. You didn’t move, just watched as he gingerly began removing the cloth stuffed into your mouth. Each little piece he removed made your jaw ache a little less, the pressure easing up.
“There we go. Feel better sweetie?”
You shook your head, staring wide-eyed at the redhead. “Can you let me go home now?” You whispered, voice scratchy from disuse. “I just wanna go home please.”
“I can’t let you do that. You saw something you weren’t supposed to, and my boss doesn’t trust people to keep information like that to themselves. I’m gonna be looking after you from now on though, so you’ll be well cared for - you don’t have to worry at all.”
How comforting.
The man was looking down at you, keeping his movements gentle as he began stroking your hair. You were too afraid to ask him to stop. You had seen what the redhead had been doing to that man, the night you had stumbled across them in the alley. If the man was capable of violence like that, he would have no problem crushing your skull like an empty soda can. You didn’t want to stay here.
“Sir, please… you can’t….. I have a job, a life! This is illegal, what about my family? My friends?”
“Do you think the Mafia has to listen to the law? Sweetie, we /are/ the law. We can get away with anything.” The man chuckled, before tugging you towards him, hands beginning to work at the rope around your arms. At least he wasn’t planning on keeping you tied up like that.
You wanted to ask what the man was going to do with you, what he wanted from you, but you weren’t sure you’d like the answer. The past week had been hell, stuck in a dark, musty room. There was always someone in there with you, watching, guarding the door. Occasionally you would be thrown over someone’s shoulder (usually the large redhead’s) and carried out, walking down corridors and through rooms of what seemed like a giant compound before being deposited gently in a huge office, facing an intimidating looking man. The green haired man would grill you, ask you questions about who you were and what you were doing, what was you intent with the information you had ‘acquired’ from that night. He didn’t seem to listen to your pleading, your begging to be let go.
It frightened you when he brought out pictures, a file with your name on it, filled to the brim with information about you. Had someone been watching you? No, this group was just insanely good with computers, had access to private information and video feeds. All their information about you had been gathered in the time you had been there. The casual display of power had you trembling. This organization could ruin your life - could kill you and make it look like an accident. Hell, they could kill you, erase your entire existence. It’d be like you were never born. It was terrifying.
“How ‘bout I tell you my name, huh? I’m Kirishima, lots of people call me Kiri though.”
The last knot came undone, and your sore arms fell to your sides, heavy and tingling. You tenderly rubbed at the flesh, trying not to wince at the weird sensation as blood rushed to your arms.
“I already know your name, (Y/N). It’s so pretty, suits you really well I think.”
Of course the man knew your name, it wasn’t a surprise. He had been using it when he talked with you during his shifts guarding you. He seemed pleasant enough, but you could tell that the subtle bulge of muscle on his form was more than just for show. He was dangerous.
“Kirishima, sir, please. I just want to go home.” You were scared, trying your best not to break down, to tremble and cry. You just wanted to leave. Suddenly, you were pulled into a firm chest, big arms wrapped around you in a warm, crushing hug.
“Awh, poor sweetie. I know you’re overwhelmed. You’ll be okay though, you know? It’s not so bad here.”
You didn’t want to stay here. You wiggled, suddenly uncomfortable in Kirishima’s embrace. The man relaxed his grip on you, sensing your sudden panic as you shifted away from him, rising from the bed to stand.
“What’s gonna happen to me - what am I gonna be doing? I can’t just- t-this is too much, I don’t know what’s happening or if I’m gonna-“
“I said you’ll be alright, okay?” Arms pulled you down, into Kirishima’s lap. You were still squirming, uncomfortable with the contact, uncomfortable with the hot air puffing gently against your ear. You didn’t like feeling his thighs under you, his big hands holding you still.
“You’re gonna be like a special little friend. You don’t have to do anything but stay here, in my room. We can talk, cuddle, I can get you some books to read when I’m gone working…. It’ll be nice.”
“Cuddle? I can’t- I won’t do that- You can’t make me-“
His grip grew bruising, ceasing your struggles as you felt your bones protest. It /hurt/, the amount of pressure he was squeezing your arms with. You felt his chin hook over your shoulder, and his sharp, shark-like teeth were flashing right next to your eyes as he spoke, tone low, dangerous.
“You’ll do what I say, got it? I’m not so nice when I’m angry.”
You sniffled, his grip relaxing as your posture did, the fight leaving you. “I just… I don’t understand. You don’t even know me.”
“Oh, but sweetie, I do!” His voice had regained that chipper, light quality. “I’ve learned so much about you! I’ve read through the file we have on you, and every new thing I learn just makes me like you more and more. You’re so pretty, so cute, I just wanna eat you up.”
“You can’t know someone just by reading about them. I don’t wanna be here, please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone about anything, I promise! Please? Just let me go?”
Kirishima stood up, picking you up with him. With a swift movement, he turned, letting you drop to the bed, face-first. You scrambled onto your butt so you could face him, feeling vulnerable with your back to him. The man was looming over you, cocky smile stretching his lips.
“No can do sweetie-pop.” The next second, he was up in your space, face inches from yours, hands planted on the bed near your hips. “Besides, we’ll have so much fun getting to know each other better.”
He surged forward, lips mashing against your own.
You cried the first time he kissed you, and every time after.
Absolutely the WORST thing to happen to me during this pandemic is me downloading tiktok and now periodically I’ll do the hair tuck, I’ll do the dice roll, I’ll do the covers my face with my hand, I’ll gesture with my hand, I’ll do the douchey fuckboi chin stroke
