#a freeze response to danger
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kiragecko · 10 months ago
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I love my husband, and I love being married to him.
I’m neurodivergent enough that jokes are really hit or miss. And I’m SENSITIVE. I don’t like teasing that has even the slightest barb, and I hate self-deprecating humour. But joking around is a really powerful way of strengthening connections with others!
So the Husband has learned my family’s weird exaggerated-lying-as-humour. It’s not quite sarcasm, because there is ZERO bite. It’s just a straightforward and obvious lie, especially when you are currently doing the opposite of whatever you’re saying. “Will you get add enough water for me to the kettle?” “No,” as I get up to do it. It’s like a 5 year old’s idea of humour.
I just came in and told him I was stealing his charger cable. He responded with, “oh no! I will die!” And his wail was SO CUTE. I am overflowing with fondness right now. He learned that from me and he’s doing it entirely for me because he wants to make me smile! His sense of humour was completely different when he met me! But I kept having panic attacks when he surprised me, so now he says cute silly things instead, and pauses to make sure I enjoy them!
He just cares so much. And respects me. And we have fun together. I love him a lot.
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They literally arent even putting me under for my wisdom tooth surgery, just local anesthetic numbing..... I'm also going to be by myself during it and I'm a little bit worried about having a major freak out or accidentally assaulting a dental professional and getting banned from the office before they can remove the teeth I've needed out for 2 years
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presidentcircles-assistant · 6 months ago
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brand new target
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goldkirk · 13 days ago
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#im so tired of being so checked out and unable to feel real or in the moment or in my body or like a person or in a real world#I know I don’t talk about it much anymore and irl I generally hide it pretty well#especially when I’m purposefully turned on like whenever I see family#or briefly socialize#but I was at one point getting periods of time where I was only about 2-5% disssociated if that#for minutes or hours or a few times even days at a time#and I thought it was gonna be okay.#but now it’s been almost 2 years straight of being a pilot in my own body#interspersed with weird sensations on and off#and occasional out of body times#and I can never trust what I’ll do or say#necessarily#because sometimes the connection is too slow or distant for me to realize my body is going to react in some way body language wise#or my mouth is going to say something that’s not something I want to share#and I’m tired of not being a person#I want to be a person I want to be less scared I want to feel like I inhabit a body instead of a machine#I want to feel like I inhabit it at all#I want to touch concrete and feel more than 10% of it#I want to have enough memory and connection with the world to do what I mean to and keep in contact with people and be there for friends#and I can’t seem to do ANYTHING#all I do is just survive and languish and I TRY to take care of myself and I TRY to do grounding and processing and rhythm and textures and#journaling and meditation and socializing and nature and hobbies and nutrition and nothing seems to matter#and I don’t recognize myself in the mirror half the time#even though it’s the same eyes#and I have to run my movement and my body with thought like a machine driver#and it takes up allllllll my energy and focus and leaves almost nothing else#and for what? literally for what?#this doesn’t keep me any safer#and twice lately my strong freeze response has almost gotten me in danger especially that one morning with the guy on drugs and. idkkkkk#shh katie
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crushed-oranged-angered · 11 months ago
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Teen Wolf Motel California
So many thoughts about Teen Wolf Motel California
#So like I’m well and truly stoned#But like Boyd#This is like a crazy thing to be the third thing we learn about Vernon Boyd#We know he’s lonely. We know he was/is in ROTC. We know that as a child a CHILD his sister went missing#And they don’t even give us all the information about that! That makes me so mad#And Scott#We’ve been fed hints that Scott feels like a failure for three episodes now#And the kind of vision he get is SO INTERESTING. This vision hasn’t happened yet and while it is something we know he worries about#It’s such a specific situation. Why not Matt? Or Gerard? Why Duecalion? The first two have actually threatened Melissa’s life before#The goal was totally for him to want to kill Deucalion#And there were only 3 more deaths predicted not 4#How much of that was Scott and much of it was the Darach?#And then they put that thought in my head and have Scott consistently throw himself at dangerous situations without further addressing this#Ever again#And Issac#Every other time we see him a panic response#it’s like fight or flight (I can’t remember if those are real or not but for the purpose of language and I’m high I’m using them?)#But this time he freezes#Why#and like the whole thing with Ethan too#Like that just makes really neat implications about whatever the fuck the twin wolf mega wolf thing means#Like who has control? Is it equal? Do they know where Ethan starts and Aidan begins?#But like also I’m high and I don’t think the writers thought this much about this shit before writing this episode#It just gives me so many worms in my brain they are eating my brain oh my god#Teen Wolf
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sxcret-garden · 1 year ago
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Does anybody else have this thing where you're used to living with anxiety and being constantly on edge, and the second you finally enter an environment where you know logically that it's safe, you get even more anxious because your nervous system is preparing for the Bad Thing that's bound to happen Anytime Now??? Because that's currently me and i'm not having fun
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bitchybylershipper · 11 months ago
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OH MY GOD I FORGOT I DREW SHARKS
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my favorite page so far
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lith-myathar · 1 year ago
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*typing into google* how to stop defaulting to literally hiding and ceasing all activity outside of media consumption as a means of self-regulation even though you know it DOESN'T WORK
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voxmxchina · 2 years ago
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Consider: Karlach is fight, Astarion is fawn.
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I have feelings about how these two are mirror opposites in reaction to monstrous trauma.
I have spicier stuff on my Patreon.
⭐⭐⭐⭐
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phiniusandjelly · 3 months ago
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Vaguely inspired by that one post where Danny gets summoned by the JL and keeps throwing his shoes and stuff at them bc HE might not be able to leave the summoning circle but his clothes sure can!
I think the twist for that was that the circle doesnt effect him at all because hes a halfa and he was just goofing with the JL.
But imagine if the summoning and containment WORKED.
Like, he gets summoned and its startling, but once he realizes hes been summoned hes mostly annoyed.
Its a school night! He has work to do! Sure he wasnt DOING it, but it was still a possibility!
And hes trying to banter with the JL. Which for him just means being vaguely-obnoxious-but-somewhat-charming.
But then he tries to leave.
Maybe hes worried about his friends reaction to seeing him disappear.
Maybe the JL are saying some anti ghost/demon/whatever they think he is nonsense.
Maybe he changed his mind about doing that homework.
But either way, it doesnt work.
He drags his hand along the edge of the spell. It doesnt give, and he realizes hes not sure what this spell is supposed to do.
Its all along the floor beneth him, he cant fly through the floor.
He tries to get away from the walls and floor, worried whatever spell makes up the container can be triggered to hurt him or brainwash him or SOMETHING.
Its not his best guest, but he has never been summoned before, at least not with this type of barrier, and he doesnt know what to expect.
He barely gets a few feet off the ground when he hits the spells invisible roof.
And he is trapped.
And now this fourteen year old child is caged in a room with clearly dangerous adult strangers.
After hes been more or less kidnapped.
He’s suddenly regretting insulting them.
And its not his first time beimg kidnapped. Or his first time being in danger in general (obviously).
but its usually some ghost! Or Vlad “Loser, I hardly know her!” Masters!
Both of whom explain literally everything they plan in long ass evil monologues! It usually takes danny five minutes tops to learn their entire life story Dr Doofenshmirtz style!
He knows most of them personally! They hang out sometimes! Heck! even the local ghost hunters are either literally related to him or someone he’s dated!
He knows their powersets, their strengths, their weaknesses.
Most importantly, he knows their goals
But now hes trapped. In a room of clearly superpowerd strangers. With magical abilities strong enough to trap him for real.
And has no idea what they want
And Danny just freezes up
This could be super angsty if the JL were told that he was evil and think his panic + young features are only done to manipulate them.
You can also add angst with a language barrier/translation issue
I imagine the JL would be trying to get information about ghosts/ are trying to get someone to fight a villain they can’t defeat
Its going to scare the shit out of Danny either way- like imagine fourteen year old you gets kidnapped by strangers and they start asking you about your weaknesses or say they will only let you out if you agree to fight this monster.
And if Danny doesnt know this villain or how tf hes going to fight them he might feel like hes being sent off to get his ass kicked.
I can just imagine Danny being told he has to fight this supervillain and being like “…if i like..die…trying to fight this guy…what are you going to do with my body? Like will you send me home? Cause my family will freak if my corpse is teleported into the living room”
JL would not be happy about any of his responses.
Im begging someone to write this please have a nice day
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noisilyscreechingsong · 6 months ago
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Disney princess Danny
It’s known that animals can sense death. Instances where pets gravitate to someone on their death bed and dogs barking at ghosts. Danny already knew this from before he half died, so he was expecting animals to rat him out with their sixth sense or become aggressive or cower from him. Instead, they all behaved the complete opposite than he anticipated.
Stray cats come running to rub against his legs, dogs nearly pull arms out of their owners sockets to get close to him, birds bring him trinkets, raccoons lead him to trash cans full of food, and even squirrels and rats get close to just sit on his shoulders. It’s… weird, but not unwelcome. He always loved animals.
Danny had come to semi-trust the animals that come to him. They know where the good food is and drinking water, they know when to steer away from a certain area right before something happens, and they always know when a person is bad or okay. So when an animal leads him somewhere, he follows. Sometimes they need help and he’s the one they go to. He’s helped plenty of raccoons out of garbage bins and cats out of gutters to have a good relationship with the animals of the streets.
What he isn’t expecting is to be led to Robin again and again.
The first time it was a cat. A mangy old Tom cat that rubbed against his torn up jeans and looked back with - Danny swears- a raised eyebrow. Danny follows and soon enough he finds himself standing a few paces away from Robin who is kneeling down to give clean water to the momma cat and her three kittens.
Robin freezes and so does Danny. They stare at each other.
“Um, hi?”
Robin straightens immediately, leaving the water on the ground where the cats can drink. Tom cat swaggers over to guard them.
“Civilian. Is there something I can assist you with?”
The dude is probably a year or two younger than Danny himself and he has to suppress a smile at the formal tone.
“Oh, uh, no? The cat just led me here.”
He can see Robin glance at the Tom cat who was now licking himself.
“Is that so?”
“Yea. Sorry to interrupt. Animals just like me for some reason.”
The three kittens one by one all totter over to him on unsteady legs after they had their fill. The orange one starts trying to climb his pant leg with its short and sharp claws digging into the jean material.
“They really like me.”
He carefully sits down crossed legged so the others could also climb all over him. Robin watches for a moment silently and when he sees Danny react well to the little pricks from tiny claws, he seems it safe enough to return to patrol.
The second time it’s a couple of rats that lure him away to find Robin fighting off more thugs than he probably should by himself. So taking the rats’ movements as encouragement, he takes the closest thing, a piece of plywood, and hit the nearest guy over the head with it. The guy crumbles like a wet sock and Danny is moving on to the next thug.
They sweep the floor with these guys with only a few splinters and a twisted ankle.
“It was dangerous to intervene,” Robin tells him. “I had it handled.”
“Yea, I know.”
The vigilante didn’t seem to be expecting that response from his stunned silence. He straightens as much as he can with bruised ribs.
“Well, I’m glad you know your mistake. Don’t let it happen again.”
Danny neither agrees nor disagrees, just shrugs and allow the rats to climb up his leg to his shoulder. Robin looks at them curiously. Danny gives a salute before leaving. Robin gives him a nod.
The third time it happened the roles are reversed.
Some people from the local gang are bullying the lonely, homeless teen to run drugs for them. They don’t seem to understand the word ‘no’. It gets to the point where Danny finds himself with his back against the wall and all his exits blocked with a guy shoving him again and again.
“Stop it!”
“I’ll stop if you agree.”
“I’m not doing it!”
Frank the raccoon and his buddy Bobby launch themselves at the guy’s ankles. The guy shrieks and pulls a gun.
“No!”
Before Danny can dive for it, a projectile comes out of nowhere to knock it out of his hands. He can’t even process what happened before the three are running away, two raccoons chattering at their heels before coming back to crowd him in worry.
Danny looks up to see Robin with a sword out threateningly, staring at where the three fled. He sheaths the sword after a few seconds.
“Are you okay?”
Danny realizes he’s breathing a little heavy and slows down a bit as he leans over to pet the top of the two heads.
“I’m- yea, I’m okay. Thanks for the save. Those guys were jerks.”
“I’m inclined to agree.”
Robin is staring at the raccoons and it takes Danny a long moment to piece things together.
“Did- did they lead you to me?”
Robin doesn’t answer right away.
“You have loyal friends.”
Danny smiles at the weird compliment. Looking down at the two heroes of the evening Danny is also inclined to agree.
The fourth time is funny in a way Danny doesn’t know how to describe.
It was the pigeons. They were at fault of course for how Robin’s secret identity was outed. By pigeons.
The grey birds swarmed Danny and settled in a cloud of feathers. One holding something in its beak before plopping it down in his lap like a golden retriever. It flaps off as Danny picks up the obvious wallet clip holding quite a bit of cash and a student ID. The card says Damian Wayne from Gotham Academy. Just then Robin comes skidding around the corner, clearly out of breath and freezes.
Danny looks down at the clip in his hand and back up at the vigilante. He looks at the crazy amount of birds around him and again at the vigilante.
Said vigilante straightens and approaches like he called Danny there.
“If I could have that so I could return it to its proper owner.”
He holds out a hand with false arrogance, but Danny can see the nervousness in his stance. Danny looks down one last time before putting the clip in the outstretched hand without a word.
Robin nods once, pockets the ID and money, and immediately leaves.
The fifth time just cements what Danny had already figured out.
He was at the park. Not Ivy’s park of course, the one where people actually like to go. He was helping the squirrels find and hide acorns when he’s nearly knocked over by a massive black dog.
“Titus!”
The end of the Great Dane’s leash is a familiar face. Damian Wayne’s eyes widen in recognition as he finally sees who Titus was so excited to get to.
“Uh-“
Danny has to close his mouth quickly or else the massive tongue on his face would have turned into a French kiss.
“Titus! Heel!”
Danny laughs at the embarrassed blush on the other’s face, obviously not used to his companion going off the rails like this.
“It’s alright. We both know how animals like me.”
Damian narrows his eyes to analyze the teen. Danny wasn’t about to pretend and Damian looked like he was debating whether to follow his lead or not. There was literally no one within hearing distance.
“Have you told anyone?”
Danny thought about redirecting, but thought better of it. He actually liked Robin and what he did.
“Nope. I haven’t and I won’t. I swear.”
Damian tilts his head and then looks down at Titus. He seems to come to a decision before looking back at Danny.
“You’re homeless, are you not?”
Didn’t think they were being that direct but sure.
“Yea?”
“I will pay you in food and shelter to take care of my animals.”
Danny blinks. Then actually considers the offer.
“What kind of animals? How many we talking?”
Damian grins.
The family finds out pretty quickly when a teen they’ve never seen before walks into the Batcave with two pails of food for the bats, Titus at his heels and Alfred the cat perched contently on his shoulders.
Duke stares and Bruce short circuits.
“Um, who are you?”
“Hi! I’m Danny. Damian employed me to take care of the animals.”
“O…kay?”
“And where is Damian?” Bruce sounds like it physically hurts to ask and Danny does not envy Damian’s position right now.
“Upstairs. I think he said he was going to his art studio.”
Bruce marches past the boy to the stairs before stopping abruptly and turning to Danny and Duke.
“Don’t touch anything. Watch him.”
Duke and Danny blink at each other for a moment as Bruce disappears up the stairs.
“I’m Duke by the way.”
Danny grins.
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tonycries · 1 year ago
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Government Hooker - T.F.
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Synopsis. With the fame and glory of being an international popstar comes the inevitable threat of an overzealous stalker. You just didn’t think that it would also come with a very sexy, buff bodyguard behind your every move.
Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, popstar! reader, bodyguard! Toji, unprotected, brat-taming, spanking, choking, rough oral (male + female receiving), slight enemies-to-lovers, jealousy (Toji’s side), daddy kink, semi-public sex, manager! Nanami, creampie, power dynamics, dirty talk, stalking threats, TW. knife (brief), swearing.
Word count. 10.8k
A/N.  WHEWWWWWWWWW need some buff bodyguard Toji in my life. Slightly inspired by The Bodyguard. Set in the Brooklyn Babyverse.
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It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.
Pop Princess’ World Tour in Jeopardy After Stalking Threats
Dark Times for Pop Royalty: Will She Return for This Year’s Grammy Performance?
Is It Over For The International Sensation?
“Nanami, for the millionth time, do I look like I need a babysitter?” you squint at the headlines flashing across your phone screen, resisting the urge to fling it at the nearest wall. 
Sitting right in the middle of your whirlwind dressing room, you breathe in the heady air, thick with hairspray and anticipation for the upcoming shoot. Normally, you’d preen at the stylists swarming around you - but right now, their fussing only makes it all the more difficult to drive your manager dangerously close to an aneurysm.
As expected, Nanami drones out the same rehearsed response you’ve memorized word-for-word at this point. “My apologies, but with the severity of these threats, we can’t-”
“Afford to take any chances, I know I know.” Still, heart sinking, you scoff, “I understand, but 24/7 surveillance is insane. Can’t I have any-”
Bang!
To your chagrin - and perhaps Nanami’s mercy - the door flies open with a force that rattles its hinges. 
As the bustling activity in the dressing room freezes, your eyes immediately snap to the hulking figure at the door. Expression steely and vigilant, he strides in with a presence that demands attention. You can’t help but raise a brow at his audacity - and the unreal rippling of his muscles beneath that skin-tight t-shirt. 
“Sorry to interrupt, but that blue-haired freak Mojito at the front desk told me to come here.” a low rumble sweeps the room. 
Ah, this must be the one. Gesturing your stylists away, you square your shoulders - ready for a fight. “And who might you be”
“Name’s Fushiguro Toji, your new ‘babysitter’, princess.” he declares, voice gruff and unwavering over Nanami’s tired hum of “Bodyguard, he means bodyguard���. 
You narrow your eyes, studying the pure disinterest on his face. Great, just what you needed - you didn’t claw your way to the top to be scared and controlled by some loser stalker. Tilting your head defiantly, “Hmm, you don’t look like much of a bodyguard.”
Toji’s lips twitch into a sardonic smirk, gaze meeting yours with a hint of challenge, “Mhm, and you don’t act like much of a princess.”
You could almost hear the record screech to a halt. Everyone holding their breath, eyes locked on you as an agonizing beat of silence passes, half the room on the verge of fainting.
One. Two.
A startled laugh bursts from your lips. Shattering the tension in that dressing room as swiftly as the mirror in your stylist’s hand would’ve had you remained quiet a second longer. 
The audacity of this man. No one’s ever spoken to you like that before. 
Toji’s grin widens at your unexpected reaction, that sinful little scar on his lips stretching in amusement. Some small, strange part of him satisfied at passing your invisible test.
“Well, look at that, didn’t expect ya to have a sense of humor.” he comments, tone positively dripping with sarcasm, as if toying with you.
Plastering on that painfully saccharine sweet smile usually saved for nosy interviewers, you mockingly bat your lashes. “And I didn’t expect to have a babysitter breathing down my neck.” 
“Oh don’t expect me to babysit, princess. I don’t get paid nearly enough for that. According to that hardass manager of yours, my job is to keep you safe. Whether you like it or not.” 
With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turn back to your make-up artist, clearly done with this tedious conversation. “We’ll see how long that lasts. I have a knack for losing unwanted company.”
And if there’s one thing you’ve come to learn with Toji Fushiguro, it’s that you do not have a knack for losing unwanted company. Especially not him. 
Wherever you went, Toji was there first - it didn’t matter how fast you escaped, or how many hats and masks you put on. He was everywhere.
He was there when you slipped away to swap sunglasses with a passing stranger, convinced you’d outsmarted your looming bodyguard. But your triumphant laugh caught in your throat as you heard that familiar chuckle behind you - whirling around to find him sporting your ill-fitting shades with an amused glint in his eyes.
He was there during a chaotic fashion show, where you blended seamlessly amongst the flurry backstage, hoping to escape Toji’s watchful gaze. Heart pounding, making it all the way to the elevator. You’d barely let out a breath of relief before large hands intercept the closing doors. Towering figure stepping inside with a knowing grin, “Going somewhere, princess?”
Hell, he was even there when you hatched a plan to ditch him on the tarmac of the bustling airport. Making a dash for your private plane, and settling into your plush seat with smug satisfaction. Ah, at least you’ll have a few hours of peace until Tokyo without-
“Damn, first class is nice. Must be nice to be pretty and rich.” a low whistle causes you to groan inwardly (and outwardly).
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” you mutter under your breath, at the man seated right beside you. At this point, you half expected him to be keeping guard outside as you shower.
Toji was always there. Steadfast as ever, firm chest always blocking whatever escape plan you’ve concocted. In all your years in the spotlight, you’ve never felt so frustrated. The dawning realization that there was no escape matching your slowly slipping sanity as you kick off the first stop of your world tour - Tokyo.
It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.
It’s in Tokyo that everything changes. 
Electricity crackling in the air, deafening roars of your name in your ears - you stand center stage. This was where you belonged - where you felt alive. 
Pouring your soul into your words, stage lights dance across your skin, as frantic as the adrenaline in your veins. The crowd before you was a living, breathing entity, swept away with energy and excitement.
The music swells to a crescendo as your voice carries across the arena, limelight following you spellbound.
In the intoxicating performance, you don’t notice a pair of widened green eyes doing the same, goosebumps rising along his skin. Gaze fixed on you with an intensity that rivaled the spotlight itself. A silent reverie. 
As the final notes of your song echoed through the arena you felt a rush of euphoria wash over you. Lights dimming, you draw a long breath, savoring the crackling energy onstage. A high that left you craving for more.
With a grateful smile, you bow deeply, screams and applause reverberating in your ears like thunder. 
The cheers continue to ring in your ears as you’re whisked away, backstage buzzing with excitement and anticipation over the special guests for the VIP event. Enveloped by your team, you navigate through the labyrinthine corridors of the arena.  
You catch Toji’s eye from where he flanked your right, your brow raising ever-so-slightly as if silently asking, “C’mon, didn’t I kill it out there?” 
But before you can decipher the fleeting expression on his face, the moment is shattered by a sudden commotion up front. 
“Hey, over here! Is it true there's a stalker after you? Is it to boost album sales?”
“Can you confirm the rumors that you're cozying up with Satoru from Tokyo Special Grades? The fans want answers!”
“Hey! How do you respond to critics who call you a has-been? Come on, speak up!”
You’re barely given a second to breathe before the paparazzi descend upon you like vultures. Bodies jostling urgently as rapidfire questions and incessant flashes make you see stars behind your eyes. 
Trying to block out the swarm of questions, you close your eyes amidst the dizzying chaos, trying to find some semblance of stability.
And stability finds its way in the strong arm that wraps protectively around you, pressing you close against a sculpted chest.
Toji.
“Don’ worry, princess, I’ll get you outta here.” hot breath brushing against your ear, sending shivers creeping down your spine. 
Pulled impossible close to his muscled frame, his steady heartbeat grounds you - while yours stutters as Toji’s voice cuts through the clamor like a knife. “Back off, vultures. Show some respect or I’ll make sure ya regret it.” 
Steely gaze almost provoking - as if anyone would dare challenge the imposing, almost frightening presence in the middle of the room. The paparazzi, momentarily stunned, falter in their pursuit, allowing Toji to carve a path through the chaos.
Hands still tight around you, as you’re hastily escorted away from the chaos, you steal a glance at Toji’s profile, illuminated by the harsh flashes of the cameras. Finding some intrusive little part of you that thrills at the raw intensity, cheeks flaring in response.
He’s so warm. 
You could almost cry as those gaudy VIP doors swing open, swiftly ushering you to safety. They slam shut, sealing off the cacophony outside. In the soft lounge music wafting through the air, you’re left with the nagging awareness of Toji’s body heated against yours.
Embarrassment floods through you like a tidal wave as you register the way you’re still clinging on to him. Abruptly pushing away, you take a larger step back than was probably appropriate. 
In the dimly lit room, you couldn’t make out exactly what was twinkling in Toji’s eyes as they flicker to you. But what you could see was that amused grin curling his lips as you uncharacteristically stumble over your words, “Thank you- Uh, for the way I-”
“Princess~!” Words choke in your throat as a flash of white and blue barrels into you, sending you reeling backward. Playful laughter ringing through the air. 
“S-Satoru?” you stammer, caught off guard. Before you’ve fully recovered, he’s pulling you into a bruising hug, nearly knocking you off your feet. 
“Hey there, gorgeous,” Satoru purrs, voice velvety as he leans in. “You absolutely killed it out there tonight.”
“Oh my gosh, Satoru! I haven’t seen you in forever.” A laugh escapes your lips, though the lingering warmth from Toji’s proximity still prickles at the edges of your consciousness. “What are you even doing here?”
Satoru chuckles, gaze lingering on you, “Couldn’t miss the biggest concert in Tokyo since ours, duh.” His energy was infectious, and you find yourself smiling along. “Thank you Satoru.” 
As Satoru continues to chatter animatedly about the concert, you distinctly realize that Toji has slipped into the background. Where was he? You find your eyes darting around the room in search of his familiar presence, slowly noticing the lack of Satoru’s bandmates in the process.
Your curiosity piqued, you couldn’t resist teasing him. “So, where are the rest of Tokyo Special Grades? I thought you guys were inseparable”
He shrugs it off casually, leaning down to whisper conspiratorially “Rehearsal. Don’t let ‘em know I’m here.”
As you titter at his antics, he gives you a playful nudge, eyes twinkling with mischief. “So…since the band’s away, how about you and me grab a drink together?.”
Something heavy pools in your stomach as those familiar words ring in your ears, hanging in the air - you knew all too well what he meant. 
Skin still tingling with the lingering heat of Toji’s touch, your eyes sweep the room for him one last time. Some strange part of your heart pangs when you find that those piercing green eyes, always studying you so intently, are nowhere to be found.
“Lead the way, Satoru.”
---
The world was rocking, as were Satoru’s fingers on you. Softly tracing along your collarbone, touch searing as he pushes you against the wall of your hotel room. 
Shivers run down your spine, all the way to your heated core. Breaths mingling, a desperate hunger ignites in the air as your fingers just barely graze against the buttons of his overpriced button-up. 
Tension reaching its peak, fingers hazily fumbling with those tedious buttons-
Bang!
You both startle as the door swings open, breaking the heady atmosphere inside. Dazed, you whirl your head towards the intruder standing at the door - Toji. Seems he had a penchant for dramatic entrances. 
Toji stands in the doorway, his gaze dark and unreadable. Without a word, he strides into the room, narrowed eyes flickering between you and Satoru.
“What the hell is going on here?” Toji’s voice is low and dangerous, cutting through the tense silence hanging in the air.
Satoru tries to play it cool, though you catch his easy smirk faltering slightly, “Oh? The bodyguard, right? What brings you here, my man?”
Ignoring the question - and Satoru altogether - Toji turns to you, eyes never leaving yours. “24/7 means 24/7. As your bodyguard, I can’t permit some stranger to get too close.” he asserts.
Mind still burning with lust, you feel red-hot irritation simmering beneath your skin. Fists clenching at the tone that leaves no room for argument. 
“I don’t recall signing up for a warden.” you snap, sharp and defiant. 
Toji’s expression remains impassive, but there’s a glint of determination in his eyes. “I’m not here to argue, princess. My job here is just to keep you safe, princess.” 
You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief - this was ridiculous. “Uh, newsflash, Toji. I can take care of myself just fine.”
“You little brat-”
Before the argument can escalate further, Satoru cuts in, his voice uncharacteristically calm and conciliatory. “Hey, it's okay, man. I’ll just leave,” he says, stepping away from you and raising his hands in surrender.
You shoot Satoru a look of frustration, torn between the desire for independence and for someone to fucking make you cum, and the unsettling feeling of vulnerability that Toji’s presence somehow seems to evoke. As the door slams shut - not before a playful hum of “Call me, princess~!” - a deafening silence envelopes the room. 
The room that now feels too small. Too hot. Thighs still quivering in anticipation.
Shit. 
Mind racing, you don’t catch the way Toji’s gaze softens slightly, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorry, princess. But I can’t take any chances, I’m here to protect you.” 
“Enough with this ‘princess’ crap.” Running a hand through your hair, you let out an exasperated sigh, trying desperately to quell the storm of emotions swirling uncomfortably inside you. “And protect me from what? A harmless hookup?”
“From whoever is sending those threats,” Toji growls. “Until we catch them, you’re not allowed to be alone with anyone.”
Frustration reaching a boiling point, you storm up to him. “Fine, then you can stay here and watch me 25/8 for all I care. But, what are you going to do about that?” each word punctuated by a hard poke to his sculpted chest, laced with defiance - but also something raw and primal.
Green eyes darkening with intensity, you watch his jaw clench in restraint. He takes a step impossibly close, the air crackling with something you couldn’t name.
“You don’t get to play games with me, princess,” he warns, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.
But - as always - you refuse to back down. Heart racing, mind hazy, you stand close enough that you’re toe to toe with him. A hand reaching out to grasp his large ones, manicured nails digging into the heated skin. In one, fluid motion, you place his hand in between your skirt, heated core soaking through your thin panties. 
“I’m not playing games, Toji.”
Before you can react, your back hits the wall. Surface cool on your heated skin. A brick-hard body is against yours, you could almost sink into him at how close he was pressed. 
Heat rushing to your cheeks, slick gushing to your cunt, your eyes lock with Toji’s darkened ones. He murmurs, words low and making your pussy jump in anticipation, “Didn’t expect you to be so filthy, princess.”
You lean in, lips mere inches away from his, whispering seductively. “Oh you have no idea.”
You didn’t expect those to be the words that make him snap - then again, you didn’t expect him to snap so easily either.
Toji’s eyes widen slightly, his jaw dropping open as he processes your words. He stares at you darkly for a moment, gaze traveling over your flushed cheeks, your devilish grin, and finally settling on your heaving chest.
Toji pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other roughly tearing your skirt off your waist. Flimsy cloth hitting the carpeted floor. 
“Hey! Those are Dolce and-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence before his lips capture yours. Words catching in your throat as his tongue plunges unforgivingly into your mouth. 
Hands groping and teasing every inch of skin they could find. Kneading your breasts through your shirt, biting down hard on your bottom lip.
A desperate whine that you definitely would’ve been embarrassed about had you been in the right state of mind leaves your lips as something achingly hard grazes your core. Shit, you had an inkling but he was going to split you apart. Mindlessly wondering whether you’ll have to cancel the photoshoot tomorrow. Hips bucking for more more more-
“Patience, princess.” he murmurs, hotly against your lips. Thick fingers slipping beneath your panties - ripping them off. You gasp as the cold air hits your cunt, thighs quivering at the neat fingernail grazing your swollen folds. “You need to be taught a lesson first.”
You’re not in the mood for patience. But whatever retort gets stuck on the tip of your tongue as a long finger circles your throbbing clit. Tight, urgent little circles that inch you closer and closer to insanity. “F-faster-”
“You’ll take what I give, my lil’ slut.”
“I don’t have to listen to you.”
Ah, but alas - thank god for Toji Fushiguro being a merciful man. At least for the moment.
Pressing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your body, dropping to his knees with urgency of a madman. Gaze fiery fiery with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine - you were in for it. 
Licking his lips, tongue catching on that small scar by the corner, he dives nose-deep into your needy pussy. Bed mere meters away, Toji takes you right against the wall. 
His hungry gaze devours you just as greedily as the mouth on your cunt. “Ah! Hah- Oh, Toji!” you gasp, arching into his hurried yet expert tongue. Harsh, purposeful movements that send electric shocks straight to your core. 
“Not Toji, princess.” he murmurs, lips hot against your own. Urgently lapping at your juices, as if a man dying of thirst.
Something hot and sticky coils at your stomach - maybe at the way his tongue was crooking just right to tease your dripping entrance, bullying its way past your swollen folds. Or maybe at the way the realization has your slick beading out of your pulsing pussy.
“D-daddy?” you whimper, almost-experimentally. 
And apparently it was the right answer, as Toji lets out a guttural groan into your snug cunt. Nose catching against your abused clit, rubbing hurried little circles. Tongue stretching out your snug walls, pooling your juices, unforgivingly dipping in and out in and out in and-
Speeding up now, his tongue has you losing your mind in ways you didn’t even know were possible. “Hngh- faster. Fuck me like you want it, daddy.” you whine, hips grinding further into his mouth.. 
And he lets you. In your lust-addled mind you barely have time to think about this strange act of mercy - only thinking of how close you were. So close. So fucking close. Mere moments away from shattering completely. Mind filled with only Toji and his tongue and Toji-
“Didn’t think I’d be so nice to ya, did you, princess?”
Orgasm slipping through your fingers, your crash from euphoria matches that of your heart.
Ah, Toji could cream his pants at the way your face fell so adorably as he pulled away. Delicate strings of spit and slick still connecting him to your slutty pussy. 
“Toji?” you mewl, bruised lips falling into a pretty pout that made him want to throw caution to the find and stuff you full of his cock right now. But no, he had to teach his lil’ princess a thing or two about not getting everything she wants.
“Patience, princess.” With a grin, Toji warns, voice husky and sending shivers down your spine and making you grind your hips against his lips. Before you can whine in disappointment, a sharp smack! cuts through the heady air. The sound hits you before the realization that Toji hit you. 
A sharp slap against your ass, the impact shocking you briefly before arousal takes over. You yelp at the sting, eyes widening in surprise.
“Wha-”
“Count to ten, then I’ll let you cum. You need to learn a thing or two about listening, brat.”
You stare at him defiantly, your heart pounding in your chest. A silent staredown that only makes heat pool more and more desperately at your core. Deafening need, slick dripping down your legs pathetically.
“O-one.” you whisper, voice strained with frustration and barely audible.
He watches you like a predator stalking his prey, eyes never leaving your face. Smack!
His hand connects with your ass again, a low hum of appreciation at the mewl leaving your kiss-bitten lips at the pain and filthy pleasure. Your ass stinging as much as your dripping cunt.
“...two.”
Apparently approving of your obedience, he dives back in with a low growl. Burning his face between your thighs, because fuck oxygen - breathing couldn’t compare to how sweet you were on his tongue.
Lapping up your sensitive folds, scar rough against them, teasing. Edging your climax and your sanity like the merciless bastard he was. Smack! 
“Hah- ah! Two- Oh, jus’ like that-” Broken, raw moans escape your lips as he continues his torture. Ah, he loved this view. The people’s princess, so teary and falling apart because of him.
In the obscenity of it all, thick fingers stuff themselves in your cunt. The lack of preparation makes you squeeze around Toji’s tongue as they pump into your sloppy hole relentlessly. In and out in and out- 
Smack!
“Th-three- hngh-”
Purposefully missing that one spot Toji knew would have you seeing stars. You haven’t earned that yet.
Blood rushes straight to his cock as you throw your head back, letting out a strangled sob. “Daddy, let me cum. Wanna cum on your tongue. Ah-” Oh, you clever minx, knew exactly what made his leaking cock throb with need. For that you get two sharp smacks on each cheek. 
“F-four. Five.” you’re in tears at this point. Delicate little streaks down your cheeks to where Toji had his face buried in your cunt.
“Tha’s right, princess.” Toji praises, voice thick with desire and sending vibrations that make your walls clench. “Tell me how badly you need it.”
Body convulsing uncontrollably around his hot tongue, pushing you closer and closer to the edge - only to reel you back again. Denying you. Chipping away at your sanity bit by bit. A hand reaches to grab a fistful of his silky black locks, tugging needily - and you get punished accordingly. 
Smack! Smack! Smack!
“E-eight! Hngh- please.” 
“Please!” you moan, voice raw with need and desperation. Finally breaking for him - being pushed this far with anyone before. “Please, let me cum. Please please wanna cum-.” Close. You were so close that it hurt.
Ever the merciful man, he forgives this little transgression. Only continuing to cup your sore cheeks possessively, hands mapping the expanse of your heated skin.
“Please, Daddy.” you choke, a broken whisper. Now exhausted, knees weakening, it’s all you can do to not collapse on the floor, Toji’s strong hold on your hip to control you being the only thing holding you up.
Several things happen at once. You barely even feel the final two, sharp slaps - too far gone to register anything other than the rough thumb pressing on your sensitive clit. Hard. 
And then you’re cumming. 
Body convulsing and bowing into him, crying out raw moans of Toji’s name as you cream around his tongue. Your vision blurs at the edges, grip searing on Toji’s hair, tangling in the soft strands and pulling him impossibly closer to ride out your high on his pretty face. 
White-hot pleasure courses through your entire body, thighs quivering delicately around his face as you chase peak after peak. 
As the stars behind your eyes disappear into nothingness, you’re left limp and boneless, held up against the wall with a single, muscled hand.
Toji - ever the gentleman, supports you with a steady arm before you slip down the wall, valiant knees finally giving out. 
Blinking your vision back, you catch a glimpse of his achingly hard erection. Straining painfully against his trousers, a dark patch right where his thick head was. And despite your severely fucked out state, your mouth still waters.
Obviously catching your line of sight, he adjusts his uncomfortably tight pants. Steering your still-lustfully delirious self to the bed. “You were such a good girl f’me, princess. Let’s stay that way, hm?”
You blink up at him, confusion clouding your mind. Did he just compliment you? You must be mistaken. 
But as you look into his eyes, you see a genuine twinkle of fondness mixed in with the desire that makes your skin burn. A heady combination. One that makes your mind spin, even as you’re carefully placed on the soft bed. Even as he swiftly closes the door with a low whisper of “Rest now, you’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” leaving no room for argument.
Sinking into the soft mattress, a strange surge of euphoria rushes through you as you realize two things:
Nothing would ever be the same. 
It was going to be your personal challenge to make Toji Fushiguro crack. 
Heart racing, feet thumping tersely against the plush carpet, for perhaps the first time in years, Fushiguro Toji is taken aback. The heavenly sight of you falling apart underneath him searing into his brain. Something coiling uncomfortably in his stomach, rushing all the way to his throbbing dick. But, right now, the only thing he’s thinking of being to fucking find somewhere to fuck his fist to the memory.
---
Your third night in Tokyo was a whirlwind of lights and camera flashes. And yet, in the midst of it all you still escaped - this time with Toji - claiming “security talks”. Pulling him into an abandoned green room, your glossy lips capture his with searing passion. Pulling away teasingly, breathless, only once you were sure you’d kissed him silly and achingly hard. And promptly skipping away to bother your make-up artist.
Ah, yet the stubborn bastard still didn’t crack.
It’s in Melbourne where you learned that Toji was much more than just a bodyguard. Finally bothering him enough to join you out rather than shadow you for the first time. Dragging him to a tiny karaoke booth tucked away in a dimly lit corner of town, belting out your favorite tunes to him while he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. And if you caught a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, well, neither of you said anything. 
Your glittering heels were placed teasingly in his lap, chattering away as he drove you two back, your favorite pastime as of late. A silent dare, almost goading. His steely gaze trained on the bustling road and that one annoying blue car trying to swerve him. 
“So, Toji, in your military stint ever tried to sneak away incognito but wear a disguise so bad you end up on the front page?”
He chuckles, eyes flickering down at your feet resting comfortably on him. “Can’t say I have, but I once mistook a high-ranking officer for a recruit. Had him doing push-ups before I realized my mistake.”
You burst into laughter, sound echoing in the car. Feet brushing against him right there - just a little accident, right?
But it takes until Paris for you two to break.
In the chic confines of your favorite studio in Nanterre, the scent of freshly brewed coffee heavy in the air, you find yourself chattering away on call with Gojo Satoru. His voice crackling through the speaker amidst the glow of studio lights.
“That beat you sent is pure magic, Satoru. It’s perfect!” you hum, excitement bubbling in your voice as you bob your head to the soft music playing in the background. 
Satoru’s response is immediate, enthusiasm matching yours, “See, what did I tell ya. Can’t wait to see what you’ll come up with. You sure I get no sneak peaks for this secret lil’ project of yours?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Thought so, but anyway, how’s the City of Love been treating you, darling?” he teases.
You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully, “Please, Satoru. You know I’m too busy dodging Toji for any of that.”
Satoru chuckles knowingly on the other end of the line, “Ah yes. From what happened last time, I imagine he’s been a welcome distraction, huh? Hey, is his dick really as big as his BDE is?”
“Oh fuck off.” you scoff, heat rising to your cheeks. “And for that, I’m leaving.” 
Swiftly ending the call, you cut off Satoru’s protests. Slight embarrassment coursing through your veins at how apparently obvious you two had been. A strange pang of longing flickers in your chest as you realize you haven’t seen Toji all day - Nanami mentioned something about a security briefing for your closely upcoming Grammy performance.
You sigh at the irony of the situation - just when you thought you got that freedom you’d been yearning for so long, you find yourself wanting for that musclehead presence even more. 
Shaking your head, you turn back to your mixing console, ready to throw yourself into the music once more. Yet before you could, your phone buzzes with a new notification. A quick glance reveals that familiar contact name and a series of messages that have your cheeks flaring once more. 
Blind rat #4 🧿🧿:
You better not block me for this but is this secret project for that bodyguard? You whipped WHORE~~
LMAO JKJK IK you don’t write songs about other people.
Unless…
As that block button was tapped, it’s said that Satoru’s piercing shriek echoed across in all 23 wards of Tokyo - making the people fear an oncoming Godzilla attack.
“Damn Satoru.” you grumble, tossing your phone onto the leather sofa in the corner. “Always saying stupid thi-”
But as you turn around, your breath catches in your throat. There, standing in the doorway, is Toji. His presence filling the space, commanding attention with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
“Toji?” you breathe, surprise mingling with a rush of conflicting emotions. “I didn’t expect the briefing to end so soon-”
“What’s this about that brat Satoru, princess?” he murmurs, voice low and gravelly. 
He raises his head to meet your gaze, and a jolt of electricity runs through your body. Oh, those eyes. Your skin feels heated in the crackling air. “Nothing.” you reply - almost suspiciously quickly - the words tumbling out in a rush, “Just Satoru being...well, Satoru.”
Toji’s lips twitch in a semblance of a smile, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes among that carnal look. “I see,” he murmurs, taking a step closer to you. You have half the mind to step back - but why would you ever.
“Y’know, I didn’t think you still talk with that white-haired clown.” his minty breath fans your face, darkened eyes searching yours. And you can see the question forming in them before he even asks. “You still plan on fuckin’ him when you go back to Tokyo?”
And usually you’d bristle. Usually, that hardened part of you that never takes shit would rear her head and give Toji an earful. Usually. But right now, a dangerous idea was taking root in your head. 
Heat rushing to your core at the look in his eyes that said he wanted to devour you alive, you simply tilt your head coyly. 
“So what?” A smirk playing on your lips, “Gonna do something about it, daddy? Or are you just gonna leave me all hot and bothered like you have-”
Your back hits the leather sofa before you even realize what is happening. 
Bouncing at the sheer force of his throw, you let out a yelp of surprise. Skirt riding up, legs splaying out so sinfully for him. 
The cushion dips as he looms closer, approaching you unhurriedly like a predatory closing in on its prey. A dangerous little smirk playing on your lips, you spread your legs wider, inviting him in. A carnal part of you relishing in the way his eyes can’t seem to decide between your soaked panties and the way you bite your lips so coyly.
“If you’re that desperate, then you’re gonna get it, my lil’ slut” 
He’s on top of you now, tongue hot against your neck, leaving heated, open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. You yelp as sharp teeth dig into the soft skin. Hands exploring every inch of you, desperate for more - and you’re no better.
Sharp nails digging into that sinfully tight t-shirt, all but tearing it to shreds. Your mouth waters as it hits the floor, Toji’s chiseled body on full display. Your eyes greedily take in every curve and dip, hands reaching out to grope the toned skin. Pulling. Teasing. Not enough time in the world to savor the Adonis that was Toji Fushiguro.
His hands were pulling up your shirt haphazardly. Bunching your panties with two fingers, pulling down down down till your cunt was bare and spread open so shamefully for him. “Shit, so wet n’ ready. This for me or that brat, huh?” he grunts cruelly, lowering himself beside you to murmur in your ear.
“Now, on your knees, princess. Be a good lil’ slut for me and don’t make me wait.”  breath hot against your ears, making you shudder so sinfully. It made him want to eat you alive.
You consider disobeying him, just to face his delicious punishment. But that predatory look in his eyes has you immediately dropping to the ground in front of him.
Your hungry gaze takes in the heavenly sight before you. Legs spread, eyes half-lidded, pants pulled down just enough so that his heavy, leaking cock bobbing enticingly in the air. 
Eyes widening, your cunt clenches in both fear and anticipation. Shit, maybe this was why he was holding back. 
He was big. Ridiculously big, and rock-hard. Furiously red with thick veins running down the side, glistening with precum.
“C’mon now, if you’re gonna act like such a slut then learn to take it like one, princess.” Saliva pools on your tongue, warm as it hits Toji’s thick tip, achingly hard. A carnal part of you relishes in the low hiss that leaves him. 
Your tongue snakes out, unable to hold yourself back any longer. Swiping at the droplets of precum pooling on his tip. The sinfully salty taste explodes on your tongue, sending shocks of pleasure right to your cunt.
You feel his intense gaze on you as your mouth wraps around his thick head, inching down slowly. Stretching your lips obscenely, filling you up in ways you never thought were possible. 
Your breath gets caught in your throat as he pulses in your throat. It was overwhelming and everything you wanted to be doing right now.
Ah, but you should’ve known by now. Should’ve realized as your teary eyes look up to meet the dangerous glint in his. 
With a feral groan, his hips thrust forward. You were too slow. 
Hardening impossibly at the way you choke and gag around him, tears springing to your eyes. Using you in a way that was so debauched. “Hah- Fuck. love it when you sing, princess, but you look better choking on my cock.”
Your nose was buried in his pubic hair now, wet with saliva and precum. His heady, masculine scent filling your senses. Toji’s thrusts were jerky, desperate. 
Grip searing on your scalp, Toji uses it as leverage as he fucks your face till his tip hits your poor, abused throat. Moving you up and down on his cock with mindless need, hips rutting with reckless abandon.
Yet, you wanted more. Needed more. More more more. You wanted to feel him deep inside you, splitting you open, making you come harder than you ever thought possible.
And you’re guessing it showed on your dazed eyes. Because a broken, dangerous laugh leaves him. His grip on your hair intensifies, pulling your head back roughly until your eyes water. “More? You want fucking more? Then prove it.” 
Toji’s thrusts increase in speed, his raspy grunts becoming louder and louder as he rams his cock deeper into your mouth, your pussy throbbing in response.
You moan around his erection, unable to form coherent sentences due to his length stretching your throat. 
Without hesitation, you reach up and grab his balls, massaging them firmly as you suck him deeper. Pressing right in between that one spot you knew would make him see stars. Pressing tight little circles. Over and over-
An appreciative groan leaving him, Toji’s thrusts become erratic. Movements growing frantic. “Fuck, Fuck, princess, you're going to be the death of me,” he curses, his voice strained.
You rub your thighs together desperately, relaxing your throat more, refusing to let go. Desperate to taste him, to experience the blissful agony of his seed painting your mouth. But when has Toji ever let you have your way? Never, that’s when.
Instead, he yanks your head back, pulling you off his cock with a rough, almost cruel motion. Your lips pop free, leaving his sensitive head exposed to the cool air. Gasping for breath, your chest heaves as you try to regain your composure.
Before you can even register what's happening, Toji pulls you into him, forcing you on your hands and knees. Large hands grasp your waist, holding you firmly in place. “Face down, ass up. You’re going to take it like a good little slut.”
Delicious goosebumps erupt down your spine. Licking a long, languid stripe down your back along them as you position yourself before him, Toji couldn’t help but huff out a dangerous laugh at your sinful gasp.
Mouth watering at your glistening cunt, clenching so pathetically around nothing, Toji pools your juices on two of his fingers. Promptly pushing them into his mouth with a lewd pop! groaning at his favorite taste. “Next time, I’m gonna eat out your pretty lil’ cunt while you suck on my cock, princess.”
“Please, daddy. Anything.”
Fingers circling your wet entrance, your words were music to Toji’s ears. Music that mingles with your needy, disappointed whine as he abruptly pulls away. But that doesn’t last too long - with low hiss, he buries his throbbing cock into your dripping cunt with almost no preparation.  
You keen at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock. 
Toji was hot and throbbing agonizingly inside you, each little bump bump bump sending white-hot pleasure down your spine.
“Ah- are- are you all the way in, daddy?” he hears you whimper, voice tinged with helpless desperation. Huffing out a laugh, Toji’s greedy gaze catches on the obscene sight of you sucking him up so sinfully below. “Not even close, princess.”
Pushing in shallow, determined little thrusts that have your hot cunt enveloping him deeper and deeper. Cock hardening impossibly at the soft ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time he rams into you. If you wanted it so bad, you were going to get all of it. A hoarse groan leaves him as his heavy balls meet your twitching folds, fat tip kissing your cervix - finally bottoming out. 
Now, Toji knows he’s big - takes pride in it, in fact. But he’s never been more proud of the fact than right now, hungry gaze taking up the way your eyes widen in shock, snug walls clenching down with the struggle to accommodate him. 
“You alright, princess?” he taunts, voice thick with satisfaction as he watches your face twist with a mix of pleasure and pain. “Can’t your slutty lil’ pussy handle my cock?” Tell me, he as big as me? 
And, of course, you snap back - because you’re mouthy even when you’re whining around his thick cock. Ah, next time he’s gotta make you choke on it for longer. 
“Fuck you, daddy.” your response is a feral growl, hips desperately trying to fuck back into his. “If you’re not all talk then fuck me like you want to already.”
Smack! 
A sharp slap stinging your cheek, you groan in response as absolutely raw, carnal fucking need courses through Toji’s veins. Intoxicating him. Oh, he was going to ruin you. Grinning cruelly, he utters “Then take it. And don’t fucking complain.”
With that, he begins to move. Not easing in, ramming into you with animalistic efficiency. Your ass stinging as each thrust has his hips meeting yours brutally. Toji’s pretty sure his hips were out of control at this point, high off your teary cries of pain and pleasure. That cluttered studio heady with sex and pure, animalistic desperation.”S’good- ah! S’too much-”
Smack!
There’s no going back now. Toji fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits, and you love every painful second of it.
Vision blurring at the edges, you reach out a hand to grab the armrest for stability. Body jerking with each movement, his bruising grip on your hips the only thing keeping you from being fucked off the sofa.
“Who’s fucking ruining you like this?”
“You! Jus’  like that. Fucking ruin me, daddy.” Legs shaking uncontrollably, arching impossibly deeper onto his throbbing cock, you whine each time his length slides in and out of your swollen folds. “Harder…please, harder.” you plead, fucked out.
For perhaps the first time, he obliges, increasing his speed mindlessly. God, you were sure both of you were about to explode any second now. 
Fucked out of your mind, you barely register the muscled front pressing into you, abs rippling against your back. Large hands snake from your hips, leaving deep, purple marks for you to remember him by. 
Smack! 
Another handprint on your ass, as you frantically move your hips to meet Toji’s unforgiving cadence. Sensing your urgency, one of his hands finds itself on your throbbing clit, drawing methodical, harsh circles on it. Pressing just enough to have you seeing stars being your eyes. And the other - digging into your neck.
Your frantic moans choke in your throat, feeling fucking delirious off both the change in angle and the hand around your throat. Eyes flashing at the lack of air and the blood roaring in your ears - and Toji. 
“Open your mouth, princess.” he grows, voice dangerously close to your ears, cock still driving into yours with brutal precision. The intensity of the moment - electric. 
Mindlessly, you comply, tongue lolling out so lewdly. That’s when he does it - without warning, he spits into your open mouth. Once. Twice. Three times.
Steady stream of saliva slightly missing your face - on purpose, you absentmindedly realize - as it dribbles over your kiss-bitten lips and down the side of your face. A marking. 
“No one else gets to fuck you like this, princess.”
Hot on your tongue, sliding down to your throat. He tasted of such sin, it made your cunt clamp down hard.
“Now, what do good girls say?” he grits out, through clenched teeth. The absolute insanity in his voice matching the frenzy coiling inside of you.
“Thank you, daddy.”
You reach around to capture his lips with yours, nails digging into his neck hard enough to draw blood - a marking of your own. White-hot ropes of pleasure making you gasp into his lips - tender where his cock was unforgiving.
In the lewd haze of the moment you’re dimly aware of Toji’s body shuddering above you, throbbing cock twitching deeply in your pussy.
“Oh, fuck! M-hah- M’cumming, better take every drop like my good lil’ slut. Fuck.” 
You flinch as he groans ragged profanities into your mouth. Tight balls squeezing painfully as he cums with a loud groan of your name. Thick, hot ropes that paint your walls white. Two large arms wrap bruisingly tight around your waist, veins popping out as he crushes you impossibly close to him. Toji’s hips not giving up their torture on your abused, awaiting cunt, pumping his seed deeper and deeper. 
Full. You feel so full. And so, so complete. 
You can feel such an obscene mix of your slick and his cum mapping down your legs every time his hips slam into yours. Dripping onto the cushion, pooling at the sofa in a way so sloppy, you knew you’d have to scour online later for a replacement.
Stomach now feeling uncomfortably inflated and hot, vision blurry, you collapse onto the cushion. The last of your strength leaving you with the orgasm that you’re sure fried your brain. You mewl at both the sensitivity and the sudden emptiness as Toji pulls out with a wet pop!
A rush of cum gushes out of you, drenching both you and the cushion below. Limp and boneless beneath him,  you let out a sigh at the heat of his release seeping into your skin.
A soft silence fills the room like a lullaby. Everything feels so heavy. So dizzying and so warm. You barely register the strong hands lifting you gently towards the direction of the bathroom. The only thing on your mind being Toji and what a privilege it was to fall asleep in someone’s arms. You wouldn’t really mind this every night…
And in the dim lighting of that heady studio, fucked to sleep and covered in sweat and his cum, Toji thinks you’ve never looked so beautiful.
His heart lurches as he realizes - in all of Paris, the one sight he wants to look at is you. His pretty popstar.
---
“For the last time. I don’t do celebrities, especially not spoiled pretty popstars.”
Undeterred, the blond man leans forward in his chair, his expression indiscernible behind those glasses. “We’re told you’re the best of the best, even from ex-military. And if money’s the issue then I’ll double- no, triple whatever you’re making right now.”
Jaw tightening, skepticism dripped from his words. “All this for some celebrity drama?” 
“Fushiguro, we’re talking big people, and even bigger money. And a girl’s life in genuine danger on top of it all,” a hint of desperation creeping into words that cut through the tense air. 
“Genuine danger, huh?”
Toji runs a hand through his hair, questioning what the fuck he got himself into by opening the door for this human definition of a stick up one’s ass. Mind racing, eyes darting around the room, they catch yours - twinkling on the glossy cover of some magazine thrown haphazardly on the table. 
Traitorously, something prickly and uncomfortable settles in his stomach as the words ring in his ears. 
Genuine danger. 
Heaving out a sigh, he narrows his eyes at the man currently studying his reaction. 
“A year. That’s it. No more, no less. I don’t care if that prima donna princess of yours begs on her knees otherwise.”
But right now, your twinkling gaze set on him, lips curved into a blinding smile as you waltz through Los Angeles International Airport - as much as you could with your entourage - some small, raw part of him thinks he wouldn’t mind staying like this for a long, long time. 
LAX was probably one of your favorite airports. Not because of its size or architecture, but because of the thrumming energy of the opportunity to come. Namely, your Grammy performance.
Eyes slightly heavy, yeah, you were cutting it close - to Nanami’s ever-graying hair at the stress.  But hey - at least no paparazzi tipped off for your unexpected arrival.
You just couldn’t resist the temptation to push your departure off for a day. Taking the extra time to wander along the Seine with Toji, talking about everything from your new dance number for next month’s Madrid show to why Nanami was a masochist for staying in this industry, all the way to Toji’s military stories that even Hollywood couldn’t dream up. 
The setting sun casting a soft glow on both of your uncanny disguises - your choice of course. A newfound understanding crackling between you two.
And right now, his presence steadfast behind yours as you weave through the bustling terminal, you feel a rush of excitement at finally performing that little project you’d been working on. 
More specifically what Toji’s reaction to it would be. Would he love it? Would he hate it? Would he realize just what that inconspicuous voice memo you bothered him into was actually for? 
But then came the real test: would he realize just who it was for?
The thought made you smirk inwardly. Imagine Toji’s face when he puts two and two together. 
Turning around, you catch Toji’s eye, a mirthful glint dancing in yours. “So, Toji, ready to witness greatness at the Grammys?” you quip, tone playful as you bump shoulders with him. Of course, the man barely budges. 
He raises an eyebrow, smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “As long as I don't have to wear a tuxedo, princess.”
“Aww, and here I was thinking we could match.” you whine. Though a chuckle leaves your lips, “And that reminds me…” you trail off as your voice drops to a conspicuous whisper.
Delighting at the playful sigh that leaves his lips as Toji leans down, allowing you to whisper words meant for only him. “You better reward me after my performance, y’know. I remember someone saying something about ‘eating me out till I cry’” 
“You won’t be getting any reward if you continue acting like such a slut, princess.” warm breath tickling your ear as he murmurs. 
“If the shoe fits.” you bat your lashes, mockingly innocent. 
“If the shoe fits then please get into the car. The driver’s here and the team are on their way.” Nanami’s no-nonsense voice rings out. Already sounding dangerously close to an impending stroke. 
“Yes, mother.” you quip, stifling your laughter as you step outside. It’s a short walk to your destination, the cool morning breeze greeting you as you head for your waiting car, just stuck behind some slightly-oddly parked blue car. 
Ah, that’s LA for you, you chuckle inwardly, walking towards it - that strangely familiar blue car. The one you’ve seen a few too many times these past few weeks in the corner of your vision. 
Strange.
Steps slightly speeding up, a cold sweat trickles down your spine. Unease prickling at the back of your mind, something tells you you’re being watched. And not in the way of paparazzi snapping a stray picture.
Subconsciously, you take a half-glance inside the car - time freezes. Heart immediately lurching into your throat at the sight.
There. 
The door swings open. 
A flash of blue hair, one foot out of that dreaded blue car - is him. You don’t know how you knew it was him. You don’t know how you knew he was there. The only thing being your eyes locked on that glinting knife in his hand. Winking mockingly at you in the morning sun. 
Gray eyes locked on yours, whirling with chilling maniacal intensity. The cool morning breeze feels icy against your skin as a primal fear claws at your insides once you realize the imminent danger.
Toji’s trained instincts kick into high gear, eyes locked with his. Positioning himself between you and the assailant, his hand reaches for the weapon concealed beneath his suit jacket. Only for them to stutter in midair as he realizes they’re still safely stored in his checked luggage. Unreachable. 
Shit. Clever bastard.
Nanami moves with a swift grace, eyes scanning the surroundings for any nearby law enforcement. 
Mahito’s lips curl into a malevolent smirk as he realizes the vulnerability, grip tightening on his knife as he takes a menacing step forward. The air so tense you found it hard to breathe.
“You.” the words ring venomously, panic surging within you. “You think you’re so high and mighty, huh?”
“Step back before you do something you regret, you freak.” Toji’s voice is steady, body poised for action. Eyes locked on every minute tremor of the knife in his hands.
His eyes wide and bloodshot, staring right into Toji - almost as if trying to look at you through him. “Little princess~” he taunts in an eerie sing-song voice. “Why did you leave me here all alone, I was lonely, y’know~ And this gorilla never left you alone, ah what a pain to follow you around. But I did it- of course, I did it for my princess.” 
Another step forward.
No one engaged with Mahito’s delirious rambles. Nanami’s hand was firm on your shoulder, whispering in your ear to get away. Now. 
But your mind was stuck on the words that cut through you like a knife - the knife that he was now slicing through the air in jagged, deranged motions. “She can’t leave. She belongs here with me.”
Before anyone can react, Mahito throws himself forward with startling speed. Glinting blade deadly through the air. You stagger backward, the world spinning in a dizzying blur of fear and desperation.
Toji springs into action with lightning speed, body lunging expertly. Hands deflecting the blade with a swift motion. Knife flashing mere millimeters away from his skin.
Yet Mahito continues struggling relentlessly. Each movement calculated and cold. Hand slashing at Toji as he ducks and weaves away, attempting to divert the attack away from you. 
The grip on your shoulder tightens, “Let’s get away now. While he’s distracted.” 
You’re being pulled away before you know it. 
Movements sluggish in the air thick with tension and fear. Your body is frozen, ice running through your veins. Nanami’s urgent hold on your shoulder moving you away. 
But your eyes remain locked on Toji.
On the way he swiftly tries to find an opening amidst the blur of movement, knife slashing away as if it were a game. You were fighting to look back now, body twisting against the one moving you away. Struggling to follow Toji’s powerful kick to Mahito’s midsection. The impact knocking the wind out of him, knife faltering. Yet rage still surging.
Hand coming down down down. Merciless metal meeting skin. Red-hot crimson flashing behind your eyes and staining the ground below Toji as he’s slashed viciously. 
It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.
It’s in Los Angeles that you think you might lose him.
The sickening sound of metal against flesh echoing amidst the blood-curdling scream you don’t realize you let out. 
The sound making Mahito falter for the briefest millisecond, a flicker of hesitation flitting across his twisted features.
And it’s all the opening Toji needs. 
Launching himself at the man, colliding with a bone-jarring impact that has both bodies crashing to the ground. 
A deadly struggle, and despite Mahito’s fierce grappling - fueled by pure madness - he’s no match for Toji’s punishing blows. Every strike clear and calculated, pinning his flailing hands to the ground.
The screech of metal against gravel and distant footsteps ring in your ears, as Toji wrestles the knife from his hands. Glinting metal skidding away.
 For a fleeting moment, the world seems to hold its breath.
“You’re supposed to be with me.” Mahito's voice pierces through the din, voice hoarse and desperate. “I’m the one who’s been there for you ever since you stepped foot in that godforsaken agency. Me. It’s me.” he snarls. Eyes cutting into yours.
Takedown tightening, Toji pins his body tighter against the ground. “You don’t have the right to talk to her, you blue-haired freak. Be grateful we’re in broad daylight and I can’t rip you limb from limb for her.”
You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding as Toji’s strained yet still steady voice rings in your ears - in tune with the voices you’re now realizing were surrounding you. As uniform-clad figures rush into your circle of vision, you distinctly realize with a jolt that it’s over. 
Knees weakening in relief, you feel them hit the gravel. It’s all over. You feel light-headed - absolutely delirious. Vision blurring with tears and all you can see is red red red. 
Blood roaring in your ears, you miss Mahito’s shrieks as he’s restrained and escorted away. The only thing registering in your mind being the warm hand under your arm, pulling you up gently as if you were something so utterly precious. 
Toji.
“Are you okay, princess? Need me to loosen another one of that bastard’s teeth?” he rumbles slowly, slightly breathless. As you cling onto the words like a lifeline, a fresh wave of tears prick your eyes at his uncharacteristically careful tone.
“Are you okay?” you repeat, words heavy with remorse as you blink at the sight of that stark red against his t-shirt. A deep gash running along his side that left Toji vulnerable in ways you knew he would never openly admit. 
Seeing your shaken state, he lets out a sigh. Pulling you flush against his chest, careful to avoid his injury. “I’ll be fine princess.” he murmurs, quiet words strained and meant for only you, amidst the chaos in the background. You lean into his touch, reveling in the feeling of him being solid and whole and here. With you.
You think you could stay like that forever. 
Ah, but one can’t get everything they want. 
Nanami’s voice cuts through the fragile peace with his usual calm authority, “I've spoken with the authorities,” you whirl around to meet his exhausted gaze. “They’ve assured me that Mahito will be taken into custody, and measures are being put in place to prevent any future incidents.”
Eyes flitting between you and Toji, he continues, voice taking on a much softer tone. “There’s no need for you to attend the Grammys after all that happened, I understand and will contact them if you wish to stay here.” And with that, Nanami walks away to a nearby police officer, presumably to give a statement - but you knew better, grateful for the moment of privacy he’d given you two.
Right. The Grammys.
Part of you is relieved at the prospect of not having to pretend that everything is fine in front of the flashing cameras and millions of scrutinizing eyes. And the other part, well, you glance up at Toji. 
Wide eyes meeting those green ones. Unspoken questions swirling between you two like a whirlwind. Is it really over? What does that mean for us? Will you stay?
Please stay.
“I don’t want to go,”  you confess quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “I want to stay here with you, make sure you’re okay.”
Toji’s gaze softens, a hint of warmth flickering in his usually steely eyes as he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face. “My princess worries about me, hm? I’ll be fine.” he reassures, yet words weak from the pain. “Go out there and kill it.”
And in the delicate tension of it all you find it in yourself to arch your eyebrow skeptically, “Fine? You’re bleeding out, Toji. That doesn’t exactly scream ‘fine’ to me.”
“I’ve had worse, I promise. Worst case scenario I track that freak down and break his arm.”
You let out a watery laugh as Toji leans down, hot breath fanning your face. His lips brush against yours in a tender kiss. A silent reassurance. But just as quickly as it began, he pulls back with a playful bite to your lower lip.
“Now go. Blow the overpriced silk pants off of all those overrated snobs. Trust me.”
You almost bristle at his words, but that twinkle of fondness in his eyes made all your inhibitions melt away - involuntarily, of course. Throat tight, you give an affirmative nod. 
Now, Toji always did delight in catching you off guard. But right now, ignoring the fussing EMTs, watching you be hastily ushered away by your team - the words tumble out before he can stop them. 
“Oi, princess.” he calls out, voice carrying over the chaos. “I love ya.”
And as he watched you trip over nothing but thin air, a lightheaded chuckle leaves him - maybe it was the bloodloss, probably it was that adorable look on your face. “Smooth, princess.” he laughs.
As you regain your composure and flip him off, promptly being whisked away by Nanami - who looks two steps into his grave already - Toji can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell within him. “Tha’s my girl,” he mutters to himself, a rare gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
---
“Ladies and gentlemen, music aficionados around the world. It is my pleasure to announce our next performance, a star who needs no introduction. Get ready to witness the talent, the charisma, and the sheer audacity of the one, the only-.”
Cameras flashing. Cheers roaring, The anticipation electric as your name echoes through the auditorium, the audience’s excitement reaching a fever pitch as you take to the stage.
“Buckle up, darlings, because this is ‘Government Hooker’!”
---
“They don’t call you pop royalty for nothing, huh? You're going to take over the charts with that one!”
“Girl, who was that sexyass voice in that song? Drop me his number if you aren’t already with him.”
“Stunning as usual, huh?”
The whirlwind of congratulations and praise envelop you back at the Grammys afterparty. Your hand throbs from being clutched so tightly, and you can’t help but smile at the adrenaline and euphoria thrumming through your veins, washing away most of what happened earlier today. Yeah, you killed it.
But as you navigate through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and posing for photos, a nagging part of your mind keeps returning to Toji. Red, red to match your gown. He should’ve been here with you tonight. 
Nodding and smiling along at the compliments, you find yourself drifting away from the bustling center of the party. Constantly checking your phone for any updates other than Nanami’s “He’s alive.” text from a few hours ago.
Ah, there it is.
Finally reaching the exit, goosebumps erupt along your skin as you step out into the chilly night air. You’re momentarily blinded by the barrage of camera flashes from the waiting paparazzi outside. Their shouts merging into an indistinguishable cacophony. 
Yet, you push forward, determined to reach your awaiting car.
Just as you approach the curb, a sleek black Rolls-Royce pulls up beside you, tinted windows shielding the figure inside. God, you gotta remember to give Nanami a raise.
Swiftly sliding in, “Nanami you wouldn’t believe-” 
“I’d hope I don’t look anything like that walking resignation letter.” 
Your eyes widen in disbelief as you turn towards the figure seated beside you, and there he is. Toji.
All signature smirk and twinkling eyes despite the bandages wrapped tightly around his torso.
A gasp leaves as your eyes catch on them, a million thoughts running through your head at once. “Wait, what are you even doing here- You’re hurt, are you even okay- Should we call the ambulance? Those look like-”
“Woah woah, slow down princess. I’m clearly alive, hm? Why, shouldn’t your muse be there to personally pick you up?” he chuckles. “Besides, you killed it out there. That shit was playing was all that every radio was playing for the last hour.”
You can’t help but laugh at his teasing tone, relief flooding through you at the sound of his voice. “Well, you are the exception.” Reaching over and gently cupping his cheek, that small scar was rough against your thumb.
Leaning in, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, you take in the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the way his hand rests protectively on your thigh.
“Thank you.” you whisper, breath hot against his lips. And though you don’t specify for what - both of you know. Both of you understand. Your lips meet his in a lingering kiss, he tastes of mint and the anticipation of something new and freeing. 
Pulling away slightly, his gaze meets yours with a rare little vulnerability. “Always, princess.” A raw second of silence.
One. Two. Before a smug smirk curls his lips, hand squeezing your thigh. “Now, I remember someone wanting to be eaten out till she cried as a reward?”
You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Oh yeah? Right here, right now?”
“Think we’ll make the front page, princess?”
“I know so.” 
It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.
It’s right now, giggling amidst the chaos of flashing cameras and forgotten afterparties, that you think you just might love him.
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A/N. Actually frothing at the mouth I want him so bad y’all. Also, reader isn’t Lady Gaga, I just think the song fit.
Reblogs so, so appreciated.
Plagiarism not authorized.
10K notes · View notes
jeonsweetpea · 1 year ago
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Will It Fit?
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Roommate!AU | Roommate!Jungkook x Reader
genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst, slight idiots to lovers
rating: explicit
description: So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…
word count: 6.7k
warnings: size kink, JK has a big dick (no, really), slight pain kink, light choking, dirty talk, Dom!JK, flustered/shy JK at first, unprotected sex (this is fiction, we all wanna be raw-dogged by JK okay), lube, JK loves OC’s panties a LOT, fingering, mentions of masturbation, OC gets embarrassed at first but JK is sweet about it, oral sex (male & female receiving), cursing, Soft Dom!JK, JK is overly concerned with how big your dildo is, embarrassing moments from both parties, spanking, prone bone, creampie, confession scenes, 
a/n: As soon as I saw JK’s OJO face from that GCF, it kicked me into gear to write this. I’ve had this idea for SO long, but never had the motivation to finish it. I was supposed to release it last winter, so hope you’re all excited for it! Asks and reblogs are much appreciated (I read them all!). Also, much love to @jkeuphoriadreamland for bouncing ideas around with me. 
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“[Y/N], I can hear you in there.” 
The muffled, disgruntled voice came from the other side of your door. Your eyes fluttered open and your hand stilled in your panties, your heart rate spiking. Maybe if you didn’t move a muscle, he’d go away. 
“I know you’re up,” he added. You rose up from your bed.
“Um… exactly what did you hear?” you squealed, face burning up at your terrible acting skills.
“Unlock this door.”
You didn't know what compelled you to saunter over and open the door a mere crack, but oh the sight before you was almost worth the humiliation. Jungkook was in nothing but gray sweats that sat dangerously low on his hips. He had a bad case of bedhead, but his locks looked so soft that you wanted nothing more than to grab onto them and make out with his beautiful lips, which were captivating you just as much as that intense gaze of his. 
“Hey… you…” you said with a meek smile, which he did not return.
“It’s 2 AM in the morning. I have work at 5. As hot as you sound, we either do something together so we both get satisfied or you let me get my rest because I am incredibly frustrated right now.”
Your eyes widened at his curt response. You’ve never seen him so tense, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek as his glare bore into you. He leaned against your door frame with one arm, leaning in close enough to make you break eye contact. He tapped on the wooden frame with his index finger, awaiting your response. 
“Sorry…” 
God, you sounded absolutely pathetic . 
“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” Before you could respond, he let out a tsk sound and retreated back to his bedroom. You stood there in a trance until his door shut loudly, snapping you out of it. You wondered if he realized how much worse he left you than when he found you. 
Fuck, was he always this hot when mad? 
You went back to your room after closing the door. Climbing into bed, you got under the covers and laid flat on your back deep in thought. The only reason you were masturbating in the first place was because your room was freezing cold. You thought the heater was fixed, but your room was somehow still the coldest one in the apartment. You knew you’d never be able to go to sleep at this rate, so you decided to do something that would tire you out and hopefully lull you into the rest you craved.
It was supposed to be simple. You, your hand, your phone, and sweet, sweet release. Damn Jungkook for interrupting you. It’s bad enough his room was nice and toasty while you were suffering. Yeah, you heard his loudass snores. You assumed he was deep in the REM cycle so how the hell did he catch your moans? Ugh.
If he was so annoyed with you, then he should have warmed you up instead!
You shook your head and got under the covers, groaning at your lewd thoughts. 
He’s my roommate. And he’s too good of a roommate for me to fuck things up. 
“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?”
Those words echoed in your mind. The way he changed his tone to a lower register with his Busan dialect slipping through was incredibly sexy. It was the perfect mix of frustration and anger and made your thighs rub together in want. Leaning over your nightstand, you opened the drawer and grabbed a velvet drawstring bag. Slipping off your pajama shorts, you pulled out your trusty dildo. Impatient, you closed your eyes and imagined Jungkook taking you right then and there. However, the moment you allowed the tip of the dildo to touch your entrance, all pleasure was lost. It was cold!
“Damn it…” you muttered. “I gotta warm it up. Ugh!”
You left your room in frustration and entered the bathroom, turning the sink on to the hottest setting and running it over your toy. 
This might’ve been the most desperate masturbation session you’ve ever had, but you didn’t care. This was all Jungkook’s fault!
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The next morning was Saturday. You were eating your breakfast on the kitchen island while mindlessly scrolling on your phone when Jungkook came out of his room. As soon as you two locked eyes, you almost choked on your food and had to chug some water to calm down. The man, confused, ruffled his hair and watched you through drowsy eyes.
“Are you okay?” he said, followed by a yawn. 
You nodded as you beat your chest with your fist to get everything down. “Yeah… I just… didn’t expect you to be home. I thought you had work.”
“Oh,” He sounded more awake now. “I read my schedule wrong. Turns out I’m off every other Saturday now.”
“... Oh. Cool.”
He circled around the kitchen island to get to the fridge and you recalled last night’s events, mortified he had heard you. Should you apologize again? After all, you’re both two grown adults; there’s nothing to be ashamed about. If you didn’t say something now, that icky feeling would only fester inside you. 
“Hey Jungkook.”
“Yeah?” he said from behind the fridge door.
“About yesterday… I hope you can forget all about it.”
As the refrigerator door shut, you were greeted by the sight of the most adorable man sipping a carton of banana milk. His eyes were wide and brimming with curiosity from your words. 
“Did something happen yesterday? I was knocked out.”
You blinked at him twice. “Do you… not remember talking to me last night?”
“Hmm? I did? I was fast asleep, don’t remember a thing.” He took the seat next to you. “Why? What did we talk about?”
Pure relief washed over you like a tidal wave as you shook your head. “Oh, nothing much. My room’s a bit too cold. It was hard for me to sleep.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to the landlord. Do you want to sleep with me?” You shot him an incredulous look and he began to stutter. “I-I mean! Sleep in my bed! Not with me in it. Unless you wanted to—ah—fuck me!
There. That’s the Jungkook you knew. He’s never crossed the line and flirted with you, so you didn’t either out of respect. But… It was too hard to resist teasing him. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
“Unless I wanted to… fuck you?” you repeated innocently. This was new territory for you—teasing him. His flustered reactions were so damn adorable though. The way his nose scrunched and his eyes darted around everywhere except for your face. If anyone was watching you, they’d swore you had hearts in your eyes. 
He set his drink down and proceeded to cover his face with both hands, panicking at his poor choice of words. “That didn’t come out right. Oh god… this is embarrassing.”
You covered your mouth to stifle your giggles. “It’s okay. I don’t want to peg you—I mean, take your bed.”
Jungkook dropped his hands, speaking the next sentence in pouts. “Hey, I don’t want to be peg—not the point. No, seriously. My room’s really warm.”
“I mean… if you really want me in your room, all you have to do is ask, you know,” you remarked. Jungkook’s cheeks were flushed with a tinge of pink, adding an extra charming element to his already cute self. Were you being too bold? 
It didn’t matter because seeing how his lips trembled and how he could barely hold himself together was fun to watch.
“I didn’t realize it was that easy…” he mumbled, more to himself than you. You tilted your head at him and he noticed how you crossed one arm over another “Not that I’m calling you easy!”
“Uh huh. I’m watching you, Jeon Jungkook. Hmph.”
“No, wait. I’m sorry.”
You placed your index finger on his lips to shush him, even going so far as to tap his lip piercing teasingly. “Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” 
You watched as his eyes widened once more and that caused you to realize what you were doing. My god. Using his own words against him was satisfying, but all this newfound confidence was going to get you in trouble. You cleared your throat and withdrew your hand, grabbing your breakfast plate and heading over to the sink before things could escalate.
“Uh… I’m gonna go to the gym. Run some errands or something,” Jungkook stammered as he got up, nearly toppling out of his stool. You bit your lip to hold in your laughter as he recomposed himself. Walking in the same direction, he flinched when you got near his proximity. “W-What are you doing?”
He’s so cute when nervous.
“Nothing. Grabbing my keys. I’m heading out too.”
“O-Okay.”
Your smile made his heart rate escalate. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”
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You spent the day with your closest friends on a brunch date, followed by a trip to the mall, and then hot cocoa in the evening. It was much needed after the week you had and after bidding them farewell, you went back to your apartment. Upon entering, you took off your shoes and put them on the shoe rack.
“Jungkook? Are you home?” you called out. 
“Yeah! I just finished showering!” he called back in the distance. You went further into the apartment and plopped down on the couch. 
“Damn,” you muttered, rubbing your arms. “Wish I could have showered with him. It’s so cold outside…”
As if on cue, Jungkook called for you again. “[Y/N]? Could you come here?”
You took off your purse and slowly rose up from the couch, hesitant. This had to be a dream. Why would he need you to come to the bathroom? He must’ve forgotten a towel. Or a t-shirt. Or pants. The specifics didn’t really matter because your hormones were going berserk at the possibilities. 
You walked through the narrow hallway and stood in front of the bathroom door, excited at the thought of teasing him again. “I’m here. What’s up? Did you forget your towel or something? Silly boy.”
The door swung open and the shit-eating grin you had on your face dropped to the floor in an instant. 
“Why is there a dildo in the bathroom, silly girl?”
Shit. Quick, say something. Anything. Don’t just stand there like a gaping fish! Oh dear, how many seconds have passed? You must look like a total idiot.
Fuck! I forgot I left it here!!!
“Well…” you started to say, “I’m assuming it’s yours.”
Out of all the things your roommate could be calling you for, this was not on your radar. The awkwardness was more suffocating than the steam from his blazing hot shower minutes ago and you wished it lingered around long enough to make you disappear. 
Jungkook made a puckered face at your accusation, picked up the object, and shook it side to side, the bendy silicone material flopping everywhere. His big doe eyes were the highlight of his classic OJO face, the blatant confusion so adorable if you weren’t absolutely mortified. For the second time this week. 
God, and how could you even focus when he was dressed in nothing but a towel, his hair still slightly damp. The bulging muscles of his biceps were a feast for the eyes as well as his tattooed sleeve. You yearned for the day he’d use his arm as your necklace, but of course that shouldn’t be a priority at the moment. If anything, it was his fault you had to use a dildo anyway.
“[Y/N], you know damn well this isn’t mine.” He met your gaze and flashed you a soft smile, biting his lower lip. “I like mine bigger.”
You covered your face in shame, wishing the floor could open up and swallow you whole. “Good god, Jeon.”
“You still didn’t answer my question. Why is it in the bathroom?”
You gulped, finding enough strength to not die of embarrassment. “It’s getting colder outside and the heater doesn’t reach my room as well as it reaches yours. So…”
“Yeah…? But I’m not following.”
“The… thing in your hand—”
“Dildo?”
You visibly cringed. “Yes, okay, THAT. It got cold and I don’t like cold objects... Inside me. So I took it to the bathroom to run hot water on it to warm it up.”
“Before you use it?”
“No, to melt it. Yes, to use it!” you snapped, feeling the humiliation burning through your body. “I wasn’t aware you weren’t working today, remember? I clean it after each use so please just give it back!”
You ran over to yank it out of his hands, but he lifted it up high out of your reach. While cackling. That motherfucker. “Hey, maybe I want a turn.”
You had to bite back. “I knew you liked being pegged.”
“I do not!”
“Then give it back!”
“This thing is huge though. It fits?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” You jumped up but failed to reach it due to his quick reflexes. 
“Doesn’t it hurt? Because if something this big went up my—”
“Jungkook!”
“I’m just saying!” he said with his arms up in the air like you were about to tase him. “I find it hard to believe, that’s all. It’s really big. Like damn.”
Without thinking, you ripped his towel off his waist and he gasped, scrambling to shield his privates while you seized the opportunity to get your toy back.
You stormed out of the bathroom and ran to your room, locking the door afterwards. Falling to your knees, the embarrassment caught up to you, causing you to hang your head low in shame. You could hear the soft shuffling sounds of his footsteps approaching your door, followed by a gentle knock.
“[Y/N]? Are you okay?” He pressed his ear against the door to hear small sniffles. “Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you upset. I was teasing, I thought you wanted to tease me back and—I guess I took it too far.”
“Go away, Jeon,” you said, throwing the dildo at the door. Jungkook nearly had a heart attack at the loud thump and jolted back, clutching his chest. 
“Holy shit, that scared me,” he said, which earned a small chuckle from you despite the tears. “Hey… come on out. Please. I’m not judging you.”
“No. I’m humiliated. You heard me yesterday and now caught me today. I can’t face you ever again. It’s over!”
He placed a hand on your door, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I didn’t even know we started, so how could we be over? You’re cute.”
That made you snap your head up. You quickly wiped away your tears and rose from the floor. “This isn’t fair… I’ve been embarrassed twice now.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“You heard me masturbating yesterday!” you exclaimed, frustrated at his obliviousness. “You woke up and told me I had pretty lips or whatever and suggested we do something about it together!”
“I mean, you do have pretty lips. Yup. That sounds like me, yeah,” he said, nodding to himself. “But I really don’t remember. Come on out. I wanna see you.”
“No.”
“Would it help if I shared something embarrassing about me?”
You narrowed your eyes at the door, considering his offer. “... Go on…”
He sighed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Well… you know how I’ve been doing your laundry for you?” 
“Yeah…”
It was your most hated chore. Putting the clothes into the washer and dryer wasn’t your issue, but folding them was so tedious. So you and him made a deal. You were in charge of dishes and he would do the laundry. However, the one thing you refused to let Jungkook wash for you were your bras and panties. Those you handled yourself.
“You… left a pair of panties in my basket once by mistake.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. I washed them for you but um… before that, I might’ve… sort’ve… jerked off with them.”
Your doorknob jostled for a second as you unlocked it. Jungkook waited as the door swung open and was greeted by a displeased you, hands on your hips and all.  
“What? They were really pretty…” he added. “They were pink and had lace—”
“You… PERVERT!” you shouted, hitting his chest repeatedly. Of course, you were aware your feeble punches did nothing to his insanely toned pecs. Jungkook stared at you fondly, catching the hint of a smile that threatened to spill from your lips. 
“Oh, I’m a pervert? Says the girl who has an 8-inch dildo,” he countered, snatching both your wrists. 
“At least I’m able to take 8-inches!” you retorted, laughing at the situation. He joined in your laughter and then said,
“Good! That means you’ll be able to handle me!”
Your brain fizzled out at this point as the laughter subsided. “... What?”
Jungkook’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gulped. “... You heard me. Go ahead, take off my towel again. See for yourself.”
He guided your hands downward to the soft fabric, which was already on the verge of unraveling itself with his prior movements. You stared at his pelvic lines, excitement bubbling beneath the surface while you tried your best to maintain a calm expression. 
“... Pervert,” you mumbled. Jungkook chuckled, taking one of your hands and placing it directly on his boner. 
“Maybe. But only you can make me feel this way.”
You bit your lip, feeling the heat radiating from beneath the fabric and your curiosity peaked. Tucking a finger into the towel, you pulled it down and let it fall to the ground. 
A loud squeal came from your lips as you covered your mouth. “Holy shit!”
Jungkook covered himself after seeing your reaction with both hands, embarrassment crawling up his spine. “Sorry, I’ll put it away.”
“No, no, no!” you said, putting your hands out in a stop motion. “Sorry, I just… you… you weren’t kidding.”
“Does it scare you?” His tone was sincere, his eyes genuinely showing concern. “Because… I don’t want to hurt you. And I know it can hurt. That’s why I was so curious about the dildo. Will it fit? Will I fit…?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at how he phrased it, but quickly stopped when you noticed the fear in his eyes. Your thoughts wandered to if he had slept with someone prior and if it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Truth be told, you’ve never been with anyone as big as him so it’s all new for you.
“Well… if I’m prepared well enough, I can take it. The dildo fits but sometimes not all of it goes in. Um… man, this is embarrassing to talk about, ahhh. I feel like I keep making a fool of myself in front of you.”
Jungkook’s gaze softened at your vulnerability, taking your hand and placing it on his chest. His heart was beating just as rapidly as yours if not more. Then he put his other hand on the small of your back, pulling you close. 
“That makes two of us. But you make me crazy.”
He was so close that your senses were intoxicated with the fresh scent of eucalyptus and cotton wafting off him. His eyes shifted to your lips for a split second before meeting your gaze once more. 
“I really want to kiss these pretty lips of yours… If you’ll let me,” he said, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb and whispering the last part.
You begged him to kiss you already, so he leaned in and finally pressed his warm lips against yours as you closed your eyes. It started off as a gentle smooch, like a little tease to test the waters. When he pulled back, you leaned forward and chased his lips urgently. You felt him smiling into the kiss as he moved in tandem with you, deepening the kiss while switching positions to press you against a wall. One of his hands pinned your wrists above your head while his free hand slithered down the side of your body until it rested on your hip, giving you a firm squeeze.
“Jung—mmph—Jungkook…” you moaned. He used that chance to ease his tongue into your mouth and the kiss went from passionate to messy. When you moved your wrists in the slightest, he asserted dominance and pinned them back down into place. 
“You think I’m going to let you go so easily now that I have you?” he asked, the hunger in his voice evident. He carefully tugged your bottom lip in between his teeth and pulled it back in a seductive motion, which turned you on even more. 
Once he broke the kiss, the only thing that remained was a string of saliva that broke seconds later.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he said in between pants.
“Since you’ve jerked off to my panties?” you teased while catching your breath.
He rolled his eyes. “Like you’ve never rubbed one out to me before.”
You scrunched up your nose at his response, unable to counteract his statement right away. “Hey… I wouldn’t have had to rub one out if you warmed me up in this cold weather.”
He smirked. “All you had to do was ask, you know.”
Releasing your hands, Jungkook went into your room and grabbed the dildo off the floor. He left you for a short moment and you waited there, confused, until you heard the sound of running water. He came back a minute later and then grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom.
“Had to wash it. Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up properly for the real thing.”
He guided you to his bed and helped you remove your jacket, blouse, and leggings. His grin was extra toothy because the set you were wearing was the exact set he jerked off too before. 
“What?” you asked, amused.
“N-Nothing.”
When your back was turned for a second, he mouthed the words ‘Oh my god’ and pressed his hands together as if thanking the universe for this very moment.
Now left in your bra and panties, you laid on his bed and he climbed on top of you, his lips latching onto the side of your neck. You mewled at the sizzling contact, pulling him close by his soft locks so that his hot skin was pressed against yours. He trailed his searing kisses down to your collarbone and then settled between the valley of your breasts. 
“The bra is pretty… you’re so pretty,” he said, full of admiration. He pulled one of the cups down to gain access to your breasts, capturing your perky nipple between his lips. He sucked tenderly, swirling his tongue around before tugging on it hard enough to elicit a moan. His other hand was greedy, slithering into your already soaked panties. His middle finger dipped in between your folds and he rubbed in circular motions to coax some more slick out of you. 
As you arched your back and moaned his name, he dipped one finger into you and began to pump it slowly. He added another one when you begged for it, sounding so desperate that he had to oblige. 
“Please fuck me already. I can’t take it,” you breathed. Jungkook only curled his fingers deeper inside, grazing your sweet spot while shaking his head. 
“Patience, beautiful. I need to make sure your sweet pussy can take it, remember? Gotta prep you well.”
“But I can take it, I can, oh god please.” 
“If you’re a good girl for me. Can you take another finger?”
You nodded eagerly, so he added a third finger and you squeezed your eyes shut from the delicious burn. 
“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, observing your expressions carefully. You clutched onto the pillow and panted heavily. 
“Y-Yeah, I—god—your fingers feel good…”
He began to finger you with all three digits, the tightness of your walls bringing some resistance to his actions. But with a few more neck kisses to relax you, it became easier and you became more undone. 
“You’re doing so well,” he whispered into your ear, his heavy breath tickling it. He finally removed his fingers and grabbed the dildo at the end of the bed, bringing up to your lips. 
“Show me what those pretty lips of yours can do.”
You stuck out your tongue and licked a long stripe on the toy in a tantalizing slow motion, causing Jungkook to grunt. That damn smile of yours was going to kill him. You were the perfect minx—sweet and naughty. He didn’t have to tell you to suck it because you already were. 
“Such a good girl. You’re going to handle my cock so well.”
He removed the dildo out of your mouth and reached into his nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube. You stared at it like it was foreign to you and Jungkook was quick to notice.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I can take it. I know it.”
He chuckled, admiring your determination. “Still, I want to take my time.  Besides… it’s not every day I get to fuck someone so beautiful.”
He popped open the cap and squeezed a decent amount of lube onto the toy. Then he got back in between your legs and slowly began to insert it into you. You squirmed from the slippery, cold contact but Jungkook captured your lips into a deep kiss, igniting your body with fervor. 
He thrusted the dildo as deep as he could, stopping when there was resistance from your panties. Which you were more than thankful for because you already felt full. But then he began to pump it in and out of you at a steady pace, only accelerating when your moans became more constant. 
“Shit, shit,that feels so—“ Your words were swallowed by his lips and that stirred something within you, allowing Jungkook to easily glide the toy back and forth. He soon increased his speed, the obscene sounds your pussy was making the only thing that could be heard in the room. 
You broke away from the kiss and began tearing up from the intensity. 
“J-Jungkook, I think—“
You couldn’t, actually. Your orgasm crept up on you and made your entire body convulse. You shut your eyes to only see white, your ears were ringing, and your pussy surrendered to the pleasure. 
Jungkook removed the toy out of you gently and then kissed your sweaty forehead, giving you a bunny-tooth smile as you calmed down from your high. 
“Did you cum?”
You smacked his arm playfully. “Did I cum… pfft. No, actually. I’m waiting for a real man to make me cum. With a fat cock.”
“Well not to toot my own horn but…” He grinded his swollen cock against your thigh. “I think I meet the requirements.”
Now that things slowed down, this was the first time you really got to look at his cock properly. He wasn’t kidding about needing to prep you. It was as big as your dildo but much more girthier. It was a mouth-watering sight. 
Flipping the switch, you got on top of Jungkook this time. His eyes widened in surprise but then eased into a smile. You leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. 
“Let me take care of you now.”
“But I want to fuck you so bad.”
“You can wait, darling. My pussy is yours.”
His dick twitched at that. You giggled as you got in between his thighs, stroking his member a few times to hear those cute, breathy moans of his. 
Will it fit…? God, I hope so.
“Are you afraid you can’t take it?” Jungkook asked with concern. Shit. Did you say that out loud???
“I can. I will.”
“We don’t have to if you don’t—“
“Jungkook,” you said, squeezing his dick tightly, almost like a warning. “I can take it like a good girl. And if not, I’ll tell you. Okay?”
He closed his eyes and nodded as you began to suck him off. There was no way you could take all of him in your mouth but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try. You went as far as you could and stopped when your gag reflex kicked in. Using your hand to stroke the area you couldn’t reach, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head up and down. 
Jungkook’s abs clenched and unclenched at the action and he rested on his elbows to watch you. The way your bra cupped your breasts at this angle was enticing, your pretty lips working so hard to please him, and the view of your ass in those panties could make him cum right then and there. 
“Fuck, you’re so good at this—don’t stop.”
You smiled at the praise and continued, loving how he took a sharp inhale of breath when you cupped his balls. He put his hand on your head and pushed you down gently, not wanting to overdo it with his size. You controlled the pace, but he just wanted to touch you and admire you. 
“You’re too good to me…” 
You released his dick with a satisfying pop sound, kissing the tip and smiling. “Teach me what you like.”
“I love everything you do,” he said, grunting when you began stroking him again from the base to the tip. “Your hands are so much softer than mine.”
You stopped momentarily to spit on your hand before resuming your lewd actions and he threw his head back. 
“Fuck [Y/N]. That’s so hot.”
“Yeah? Have I been a good girl? Are you going to reward me?” He snatched your wrist, his eyes darkened and full of lust. 
“Can you handle it?”
You turned around on all fours, shaking your ass side to side to tempt him. “Take me, baby. Raw.”
His OJO face returned from your bold suggestion and you flashed him a wink. 
“I’m on the pill. Promise,” you informed. 
A burst of energy surged within him as he grabbed the bottle of lube and hurriedly squeezed some onto his cock. You giggled when he squirted a bit too much, haphazardly trying to divide it between two hands and spreading it evenly. But things turned serious when he grabbed your hips, yanking you closer to him.
He pulled your panties to the side and ate you out from behind first, loving how delicious your backside looked with them on. You moaned in delight and he placed a hand on your upper back, forcing your face down into the mattress. His tongue dipped into your folds and he flicked it on your clit a few times, loving the whiny sounds you were making. Then he pressed his entire mouth onto your pussy and sucked hard. 
You were overwhelmed with pleasure and were on the verge of cumming when he removed his mouth and replaced it with something else.
“Are you ready?” He teased his tip at your leaking entrance and you shuddered. 
“Yes, please fuck me.”
“Breathe baby. Relax as much as you can.”
You obeyed, feeling him push himself into you smoothly, knowing he prepped you more than enough. At least, that’s what you thought until he got in halfway. From there on, it felt like he was invading your walls and stretching you to new limits. 
There was a mild discomfort and Jungkook kissed your back lovingly to relax your tense muscles. You sighed and allowed him to bottom out, feeling the wind knock out of you when he did. 
“God!” you shouted, fisting his bedsheets. 
“F-Fuck… you feel amazing I—can I move? Does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t hurt… I just feel really full.”
“Okay,” he said in a restrained voice. “I’ll go slow.”
He gripped your hips tightly, like he needed something else to focus on or else he’d lose control and fuck the living daylights out of you. He eased himself out of you but only half way, wanting to savor your warmth a bit longer. Then he pushed himself back into you, making sure to go as slow as possible.
“Your ass looks amazing in these. You should wear them again.”
Your heart fluttered at the thought of doing this with him again. “Maybe if you spank me.”
He stilled his hips. “You really want me to?”
You began rocking your ass back and forth on his cock. “Yeah. I’m not that fragile… I can take it rough when I want to.” You swore you felt his cock twitch at this. “Hmm, looks like that excited you. You wanna fuck me rough, Jeon?”
He delivered a spank on your cheek, the sensation sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body. Your pussy tightened from this and it made Jungkook hiss. He spanked the other cheek and then both cheeks and you moaned, the slight pain distracting you from the girth of his big cock. 
“You think you’re in a position to be a brat?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you up so you were on all fours again. Laying on top of your back, he whispered in your ear, “Do you know how badly I want to fucking ruin you?”
He bit the shell of your ear and you let out a content sigh as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. 
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reminded you. “But god, you feel so good. So tight. So slippery and wet. I just wanna have my way with you.”
You couldn’t wait anymore. “Please do. Make my pussy remember the shape of your cock. It’s yours to wreck.”
Jungkook got off your back and grabbed a nice fistful of your hair into a makeshift ponytail, forcing your head up as he thrusted into you to the hilt. That feeling of being full hit you full force and you submitted, letting him rock his hips back and forth to the pace he deemed fit. He undid your bra with his free hand, letting the undergarment fall onto the bed as he cupped one breast.
Your moans came out unashamed and full of whiny desperation. The intensity was becoming too much, but it felt too good to stop. There was no more discomfort, only lust and the desire to be fucked so hard that it had your eyes rolling. And Jungkook was more than willing to deliver.
He then grabbed a nearby pillow and placed it under your stomach, pushing your back down until you laid flat. 
“I’m not sure, but I read this makes things feel better on Reddit,” he explained quickly as he helped remove your panties. “But let me know if you want me to stop.”
You’re smitten by the fact he cared this much about you but also trying hard not to laugh at how he admitted to going to Reddit for sex advice. He was too precious.
“I will.”
With your ass propped up higher thanks to the elevation of the pillow, Jungkook eased into you once more and you bit into your pillow. He started to slam his hips into you, gripping onto the headboard to steady himself. 
“Fuck!” you said through gritted teeth. 
“Am I going too fast?” he breathed, slowing down his thrusts.
“No, it’s okay. I want it. I want you.”
Your words unleashed his primal urges to finally give it to you. He shoved his cock deep inside you, each thrust making your ass jiggle, the sight so unbelievably sexy that he had to spank you again.
“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder!” you shouted. Jungkook laid on top of you, wrapping his bicep around your neck and planted a kiss on your cheek as he fucked you harder. You begged him to choke you and he obliged, squeezing your neck just enough to make you slightly dizzy. 
It was euphoric having that slight danger while being used for his pleasure. Your pussy tightened so much that Jungkook felt he was going to cum. 
He slowed the roll of his hips and then pulled out, quickly flipping you onto your back. Thanks to the pillow from earlier, your hips were propped up at the perfect height. 
“Spread your legs for me. Wider. Hold them open.”
You were so drunk on lust that you did everything he asked. He held onto your thighs and inserted his cock into you again, the new angle making your moans come out strangulated. He was so huge, you swore his tip was brushing against your cervix. Picking up the pace gradually, you took the abuse of his fat cock and screamed at how good it felt. 
“I can’t get enough of you,” Jungkook said through pants, wrapping a hand around the column of your neck. “I’m gonna cum.”
His hips began to stutter and you felt your pussy growing sore from the stretch. Anymore and you’d be in tears. You wanted to cum too, so you snuck your hand down to your clit and rubbed in circular motions. Jungkook used the last remaining bits of strength to fuck you for a few more minutes, which was more than enough for you to reach your climax. 
Cumming a second time was more painful than the first time due to the over sensitivity. But somehow it was more enjoyable because you had never felt something so intense. Jungkook kept coaxing you with sweet words, promising he was almost finished. 
He rutted into you for the last few seconds, counting 3, 2, 1 before spilling his seed inside you. His body laid on top of yours, the two of you sticky and sweaty but it was comforting just being in his embrace. 
“Jungkook?” 
“Yeah?”
“Get off. We gotta pee.”
He laughed at your serious tone. “I think I need another shower. Care to join me?”
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Your roommate literally just fucked your brains out 5 minutes ago. Why were you feeling self-conscious in the shower with him? It didn’t make sense!
With the hot water on, you took a deep breath before feeling a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. 
“Questions, comments, concerns?”
Oh my god, you had to marry this man. “Um… I think I’ll be sore for the next few days.”
“I’m sorry.
“Don’t be. I enjoyed it a lot.”
He turned you around, so that you were facing him. “Enough to do it again?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Tonight?”
“W-Well… I mean—“
Look at him fumbling over his words. Adorable. “You’re such a pervert.”
“I can’t help it. You turn me on.”
You covered your chest, feeling shy. “Is that all I’m good for…?”
He immediately understood what you meant. “Of course not. Look at me,” he said while tilting your chin up. “Don’t you know how I feel about you?”
Your lips curled into a smile. “Well I learned today that you jerked off to my panties and you count down before you cum.”
You couldn’t help but explode into laughter at his OJO face when he heard you say that. 
“Hey! I do it to let you know when it’s coming!”
“Yes sir,” you teased with a salute. “I appreciate your punctuality, sir!”
“Oh my god, you’re so cheeky.” He hugged you again and booped his nose into yours. “I like you. You know, when a boy likes a girl and they go out on a date and then—oh shit, I did things backwards.”
You giggled. “I think I prefer it this way. I like you too. I’ve… liked you for a long time.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because! I didn’t want to make things awkward. But I guess things ended up being awkward anyway…”
“Because you were masturbating to me?” 
He had such a proud smile on his face. 
“Whatever! Panty thief!”
“You left them there.”
“You should’ve told me!”
“I did!”
“After you had your fun! You are so—”
He gave you a surprise peck on the cheek to distract you. 
“Awesome?” He smooched you again. And again. You couldn’t help but giggle. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“Mmhmm. So… do you want to stay in my room tonight?”
“As long as you warm me up.”
“Oh, for sure. I’m great at that.”
“Because of experience or Reddit?”
There was his OJO face again. “Hey~!”
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I truly hope you enjoyed the fic! Thank you for giving my writing a chance. :) Also I have an AO3 if you're more comfortable commenting there. Thanks!
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suguann · 10 months ago
Text
✎. he’s nice. well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you.
tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, simon is an excon, non-linear narrative for future chapters [18+ only]
part one | part two
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He’s always been a little obsessed with pretty things, even as a child.
It only makes sense that the habit would follow him into adulthood.
He sees you once while he’s walking by the bus stop. A timid thing wrapped up in an oversized sweater and parka coat, not looking up from the little book in your lap until the bus stops before you and takes you away.
The next time he sees you, he makes sure to come a few minutes earlier, lighting a cigarette and keeping his distance while he watches you read the same book from the day before. Simon knows it’s you, the girl from the letters, even if it’s a big city. It has to be—his pretty, lonely, silly girl.
He thinks about walking up to you just to make sure, but he doesn’t really need to. The address on the envelope brought him here, and you’re the only one he’s seen wearing a university sweater in this neighborhood.
But when he hesitates too long, a boy starts talking to you, and he watches you smile at somebody else.
Simon runs his thumb over his bottom lip and takes a deep breath to fill his chest with the soothing feeling of menthol and the burning taste of nicotine, trying to relax his white-knuckle grip on his steering wheel. 
You’ll learn, he thinks, when the bus drives off, and the boy doesn’t follow you on. He’s a patient man—it’s possibly one of his finer qualities.
He lets his car idle as he climbs out before crushing his cigarette bud underneath his shoe, straightening his black tie, and crossing the street. The boy sees him and freezes, but Simon can only laugh, wiping blood off his cheek several seconds later.
You’ll learn.
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He’s nice.
Well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you. But nice, you've learned, can mean any number of things: a nice laugh, a nice house, a nice job, et cetera.
But how he holds himself—tall, broad, and dangerous—hardly screams nice.
It’s funny because you don’t remember seeing him around the office before—the company, including IT, occupies only four floors in the building. 
Someone tells you he’s a friend of a friend. This initially sounds odd until Rose, the office gossip, says he’s someone rich who helps fund the company's social events. Hence, the crisp suit and the wide berth of space you’d give someone who wields their smile like a weapon. 
You quickly look away twice when you find that smile aimed at you, heat traveling up to your hairline at an alarming rate.
It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s not your type. 
“Enjoying the party?” 
You nearly jump out of your skin at the deep voice so close to your ear. Careful not to spill your drink, you turn your head to find him smiling down at you with a sharp curl of his mouth.
Then he’s in front of you, eyes dark and crinkling in the corners.
“Uh, yeah. It’s not bad, though,” you squeak nervously when you realize you haven’t answered him. “It’s different from what I’m used to.”
He raises an amused brow. “Oh? And what might that be?”
He’s intimidating up close, and you take a small sip of your drink to ease your nerves. “Well, no kegs or trashy music playing, and boys with egos bigger than the room.”
The man lets out a low chuckle as he considers your honest reply, and you swear you see something ripple across his features, but when you blink, it’s gone. “I suppose that differs from top-shelf liquor and live bands, huh? Which is better?”
You shrug. “Well, it depends on who you ask.” 
“I’m asking you.”
“Honest answer?” 
He nods. 
“Neither. I don’t really care for parties.”
“Then it’s quite unfortunate that you found yourself at one tonight.” He seems privately amused, in on a joke you have no part of. Then he says, “You want to get out of here?”
“I probably shouldn’t follow a stranger home,” you tell him bashfully.
“That’s very responsible of you. Then how about I get you a drink? There’s a hotel across the street, and the bar’s not shit.”
You bite your lip, and his big, warm hand is on the small of your back before you say anything. It must’ve been written all over your face like he knew you would say yes.
He’s ever the gentleman, unlike most boys your age. Though, perhaps that’s the difference. He isn’t a boy—nothing about him can hardly be described as such. This fact becomes a bit overwhelming and more evident once he has you on your back, thighs nearly up to your ears, and held in place by a firm, intricately tattooed forearm.
His smile—almost too sharp to be nice—makes your chest do this silly thing when he says, “Let’s play a game.” 
You whisper into the night air. “What kind of game?”
“It’s simple. You tell me yes or no.”
Your brows furrow, unsure of the rules of the game. “But—”
The slap against your cunt isn’t harsh, but it’s the suddenness of it, how no one has ever thought to touch you like that, is what makes you squeak and tremble underneath him—the rings on his fingers sharpening the sting—trying to scurry up the bed, but hindered by his iron grip.
“Yes or no?”
“Y-yes.”
“There’s a girl,” and then his fingertips drop down to where you're slippery-wet and sensitive, moving in hard, tight circles until you're clenching down on a curse between your teeth. "Messy little cunt."
It's too much, you think when he plugs two fingers (feeling like three of your own) into your pussy. The muscles in his shoulders roll as he shoves his fingers in and out, batting your hands away when you try to get him to slow down. Too much, too—
“It’s not. I want you to cum like this,” he says, teasing, nudging your clit with his thumb and swirling it in tight spit-slick circles; you have no choice but to chase that bright light feeling until you cum, sticky and sweaty. 
Just like he promised you would, your orgasm is a shivery thing, molten heat, incandescent, settling in your veins until it pours out of you like liquid wax against the scratchy hotel sheets, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, his fingers curl up and press into where you’re soft and tender.
He smiles. “This is fun, isn’t it, love?”
“I can’t,” you whimper, not exactly answering him. “No more, please.”
His eyes, already pupil-fat, go dark at hearing you beg, nostrils flaring. Please, the key for the small amount of mercy he grants you as he replaces his fingers with his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to your clit and lightly sucking it into his mouth. His lips are just there, and then they’re gone.
“Say it again.”
Your response is a wet little hiccup at the back of your throat. “W-what?”
“Beg me.”
“Please.”
“Again,” he says one more time.
“Please, please, please…”
It’s all you can think to say, strung between that dreamy space and reality, that you don’t even notice him flipping you onto your tummy with ease, not until the light in the room is blotted out as he leans over you. He wraps a hand into the scruff of your neck and presses your face into the bed, the other tucked under your hips to keep them at the right angle—held down with nowhere to go.
He leaves biting open-mouthed kisses across your shoulders and the back of your neck—Simon—he manages to tell you his name from one little bruise to the next. Somewhere between the buzz in your ears, you hear him telling you that he wants you to moan it for him, nice and loud.
The haze clears a little, however, at the metal clink of a belt and the sound of a zipper coming undone before you feel his cock prodding you open—raw, without a condom.
“There you go. Lay there, and just—just give me what I fucking want,” Simon rasps as if you could actually move with his hands pinning you in place. 
There are many things you should feel: scared of his words, trapped by the rings digging into tender flesh, by his thighs forcefully pushing yours apart. The red flags look more like flashing lights at this point.
Instead, you feel wanted—your walls tighten around his cock, fluttering, pulling him deeper inside, letting him turn you inside out. A small smile buried into the pillow.
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evanhereonearth · 5 months ago
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The Insidious Cycle of the Abuser Who Says They Love You: Mythal and Solas
Likely goes without saying, but Veilguard spoilers all under the jump.
I have been absolutely wrecked by the end scenes in Veilguard for weeks now, and I want to do a deep dive into Solas's relationship with Mythal and how it absolutely reeks of abuse. Long post incoming!
CW for heavy discussion of cycles of abuse, trauma response, and abuse tactics.
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When I finished my first playthrough, this moment hit me like an absolute freight train. His visceral response to her presence and the way he instinctively retreats and flinches back/puts out a hand to protect himself is a full-blown trauma response.
And then she starts talking and moving towards him, and it gets worse.
Solas curls in on himself; his body goes even further into self-protection mode. His face is downcast, not the way he bowed to his vhenan moments before with a straight back and open posture, but shrinking.
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And then as she advances, he cowers.
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He completely folds inward. He crumples; he shakes, he hyperventilates, and the moment she reaches for him, he fumblingly offers her the lyrium dagger to kill him with.
Is this shame? Yes, of course, but it's far, far more than that.
For the sake of brevity, I'm going to limit this list to the four most widely recognised trauma responses:
Fight
Flight
Freeze
Fawn
As someone whose primary trauma response is fawn (wooo CPTSD), which is intensely common among people who experience complex trauma, especially through emotional and prolonged physical/mental abuse where their needs are discarded, pushed aside, or otherwise steamrolled, I felt this right alongside Solas. My own body responded to seeing it. This is, quite frankly, one of the most visceral and realistic (and extreme) fawn responses I've seen depicted in media.
Mythal in this scene is...phew, something else.
"She was the best of them," Solas tells us in Trespasser.
But she was not good, everything tells us in Veilguard.
Let's look at his regrets in chronological order.
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Through Solas's memories of regret, we see this germinate in his foundational regret: leaving the Fade to take a physical form.
He does not want to do this. He tells her he does not want to do this. From the conversation, it's clear it's not the first time she's asked.
And the way she asks? Outright coercion.
"You have so long observed the world. Why not consider joining it?" [I want you to do this thing, so I will frame it as logical for you to make the choice I want you to make.]
"But I have no desire to live as humans. Besides, this talk of taking on a solid form. I think you underestimate the danger." [I don't want to do that. It does not feel safe to me.] "When you took the glowing stone to build your body, did the earth not shake?" [This is dangerous and selfish.]
"The lyrium gives us the strength we had when we were of the Fade; we are the best of both physical and Fade." [It makes us powerful, so I don't care about the risks.] "I need your wisdom, Solas, to withstand the louder voices like Elgar'nan's who would go too far." [If you do not come with me, a tyrant you abhor will make others suffer.] "I need you."
"This is madness. You must know that." [I don't want to do this at all. This will hurt me. I don't want this.] "I will always follow where you go." [Because I love you and trust you.]
Mythal's words in this part are classic abusive framing. When appealing to his natural curiosity does not work and he expresses strong rejection of her logical thought process (just because I have observed this place does not mean I want to go there, echoing his comments to the Inquisitor in DAI: "Many Orlesian peasants dream of travelling to exotic Rivain. But not everyone wants to go to Rivain!") and expresses that there is significant danger to continue to build bodies out of lyrium, she changes tactics.
Her second tactic is that it gives them power--she implies that he is limited and not enough for being only of the Fade. If he follows her, he will be the best of both, like she is. She clearly already sees herself as above him.
Her third tactic is pure emotional blackmail: "I need you. I will give in to the tyrants without your wisdom, and having your counsel in the Fade is not enough. If you don't go against your own nature and desires, people will suffer...and it will be your fault for not being by my side."
She doesn't say those things outright, but they are implied by everything she is saying. He says again he doesn't want it--that it is madness and that she must be aware of that despite her ignoring any suggestion that she actually is. All she is seeing is power and her desires: for Solas to do what she wants him to do.
So he agrees. Because she is his friend, and she says she needs him.
As far as core wounds go, this one is a doozy. It's absolutely brutal, because it's irrevocable. It's a point of no return. It's the first in what will become millennia of regret, of her ignoring the Wisdom she coerced out of the Fade to do what she wants regardless, to continue to push him to twist his nature under the guise of the greater good, to continue to cede to Elgar'nan and enable the very tyrants she promised him to balance.
This regret was deeply painful for me to watch. The nuance here is easily lost if people don't understand abuse tactics and how this sort of manipulation is used. It also serves to bind Solas to Mythal, an enormous sunk cost fallacy in the making--once he has made this choice, there is no going back.
And you see Solas curled in on himself in anguish and regret from the trauma of taking a physical form. It is in deep, painful contrast to his open, free wingspan as a spirit of Wisdom; he will never be the same.
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"Have you created what we need?" From the outset Mythal is framing this as his idea as much as hers, when from everything he says, that is not true.
"With this, the proper ritual will sunder every Titan from its spirit. But you must know, those severed dreams will certainly be driven mad, a disembodied blight of pain and anger. It--is--awful what we are doing."
"And the only way to end this war."
Again, Solas offers the wisdom she claimed she took him from the Fade to listen to. He warns her, again, of the danger. He does not want to do this. Just like he warned her of the earth quaking when they made their bodies--they, the Evanuris, started this war by taking what they wanted regardless of who it hurt. He never wanted to participate in it, but now he is in the middle of that war. Mythal was one of the initial perpetrators of this war; she brought Solas into it against his will because he loved her, and now he's stuck. He is past his point of no return. And she is still using his heart against him. She has isolated him from everyone he knew in the Fade; he has no one to support him. He. Only. Has. Her.
This is another classic abuse tactic; if the person being abused has no one else, they will continue to enable that abuse even if it harms others, because they cannot see a way out. If you don't do what I say, it will destroy our children, our family. If you don't do what I say, this war will consume all you have, and you no longer have a home to return to. If you don't do what I say and hurt yourself and the Other, more will suffer, and it will be your fault.
Again, his posture, curled up and broken, appearing to cradle a now-tranquil Titan beneath him--and be embraced in return. This is an interesting artistic choice here, one that aches. It speaks to the depth of his own wound and how much it rent his own spirit to follow through with Mythal's wants here; that it sundered him from his spirit as much as it did the Titans.
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"You cannot do this, Elgar'nan! You swore we would give up our commands when this war was over!"
"Our people need our leadership. If you are unwilling, leave."
From Elgar'nan, this is expected. From Mythal?
"Our people must rebuild. And we must help unite them."
Solas, once again, betrayed. He put his trust in Mythal and in the other Evanuris to follow through with their promise. Everything he has done thus far is poisoned in this moment; had the Evanuris indeed stepped back rather than stepped on necks, perhaps Solas could have healed, found a way to live with what he had done, maybe even to make amends. But this starts his war anew--and Mythal is standing with his enemy despite her promises, despite every wheedling word she's used to get what she wants from him over the centuries and longer, despite him turning from everything, everything, he loved to love her. This is the moment where he understands that he has only been a tool to her all along.
"So we did not fight for freedom, but to conquer this land and our own."
Let's pick apart Solas's words.
So we did not fight for freedom: He truly believed that he was fighting for freedom, that no matter how bad it got, that he could bear it for freedom.
But to conquer this land: Literally the land, I think, because of the Titans. To subdue them at all costs. This was not what he came for, but he believed Mythal.
And our own: Our own, our people, more spirits we gave bodies for this war, more who may not have wanted to leave the Fade. Our own, our people. To Solas, he is one of them. In this moment, he realises how much Mythal holds herself above all of them.
Elgar'nan's words are all too telling: "We fought to win. And now the Evanuris are as gods. I do not answer to Mythal's annoying lapdog."
They all--all--see him thus. As her pet.
Because he is. She has, until now, controlled him utterly with her manipulation and "need" for him.
"The people are afraid. They must believe in something." Mythal does not even stand up for Solas here; she does not reject Elgar'nan's perception of him. All she does is further distance herself.
The people are afraid: The Evanuris made them. They are as controlled as Solas and more.
Elgar'nan asserts, "They need strength."
"And wisdom." Mythal has the absolute gall to attribute this to herself, when Solas is the source of the wisdom she "needed" for so long. (Belated addition: And another level here: she may also be saying again that she needs him, but doing so in a way that doesn't require her to stand up for him directly. Honestly, fucking gross.)
"They need gods who can protect them," Elgar'nan continues.
"We are not gods. You will learn that." Solas's voice here is pure defeat. The scales are falling from his eyes.
"Every lapdog holds a wolf inside," says Elgar'nan.
Solas knows that Elgar'nan's "protection" is hollow, based on subjugation. And I think in this moment, he learns that Mythal's is based only in her belief that she is better than those beneath her, who cannot possibly handle themselves.
So her lapdog becomes the Wolf.
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"I was not certain you would come."
Solas's opening words in this regret show the distance between them already and how much he has realised he does not know this woman who called herself his friend.
And her response is to instantly blame him.
"You are the one who walked away. I never turn my back when my friend needs me."
In putting this post together, this line absolutely sucker punched me. I've watched these several times already, but the absolute audacity to blame him for standing up for his principles for the first time against all her manipulation? Hoo.
She blames him for doing just that, "turning his back when his friend needed him." She needed her enabler, and when he stopped, she turned bitter. Just like any abuser.
That he goes straight into "The Evanuris seek the magic of the Blight" instead of engaging, honestly shows that he's still Wisdom. That is one battle that is unwinnable, trying to stand up against an abuser's bullshit like that.
"Impossible," she says. "The Blight is safely sealed away forever."
Gaslight, girl boss, gatekeep.
"Though I wish I could believe you." [You have lied to me so many times.] "I have sensed the breaking of the wards."
And her answer is patronising. "I will investigate your claims." [I don't believe you.] "If they forget the danger of the Blight, I will endeavour to remind them."
Solas knows this is futile. "What if, instead, you left the Evanuris and remained with me? Do you not wish for freedom from this struggle?"
He asks her, again, to veer from the dangerous path. He desperately wants to believe he was not completely wrong about her, I think. If she were to leave, he could heal somewhat, for not having so thoroughly misjudged her character.
Am I enough for you? Was I ever enough? is the unspoken question here when he asks if she will remain with him.
And in return, he gets back even more patronising bullshit and hubris. "Be at peace, love. I will stop them."
(Can you tell Mythal pisses me off?)
She calls him love. What an unbearable insult after everything, to go on telling him she cares for him whilst ignoring his wisdom--the very wisdom she coerced him into leaving the Fade so she would have by her side--and consolidating her own power at the expense of his people.
"As you must," he says. "The Blight is our mistake."
Might be unpopular, but I do not think Solas bears a split fifty-fifty custody for whose fault the Blight is. Could he have said no about the dagger? Could he have pushed then? Maybe. But by this point, he'd already had probable millennia of complex trauma and a deeply abusive codependent relationship, probably also a level of magical bond. Like, sorry, Trick and BioWare, if you want to retcon everything you shared with us in Inquisition about being in service to the Evanuris ("You have given yourself into the service of an ancient elven god! You are Mythal's creature now. Everything you do, whether you know it or not, will be for her.") AND Mythal casually overriding her servants' will and Solas burning her vallaslin off his face and leaving a scar and devoting himself to freeing the elven people from the Evanuris's domination, fine, but I don't buy it. Even if there was no magical compulsion on him all this time, that is immaterial.
Complex trauma literally rewires the brain to survive. She spent lifetimes programming him, isolating him, stripping from him every bit of agency he had. This man did not have the capacity to say no.
When our no is trampled even for a few months or years, we stop trying to use it. We comply. We, as mortal humans, cannot begin to comprehend the compounded trauma of millennia of this happening with the stakes of worlds in the balance. Solas, quite simply, has lost the entire ability to consent. No one of us can even imagine.
Yet he managed to walk away from her somehow, when she chose Elgar'nan. This man is stronger than anyone gives him credit for.
The dagger was clearly Mythal's idea. The plan to sever the Titans from their dreams, clearly her idea. To end the war. For there to be "peace". For there to be "freedom". Except that never came.
His loyalty was to her and to their people; hers was only ever to herself.
And again, she walks away and lets Solas suffer.
What a good friend.
[screaming from the general direction of Scotland]
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She put her trust in monsters instead of her oldest friend, and the monsters ate her face.
Anyone surprised? I'm surprised. (I'm not surprised.)
And on top of this, Mythal finally, finally giving Solas one tiny breadcrumb that she had any principles remaining? I think that cemented his bindings to her forever. Not just that the Evanuris killed her, but why they killed her: because after millennia, she listened to him.
For someone that deep into trauma and abuse? Well. We know what happened.
It cannot be overstated that with his imprisonment of the Evanuris and the Blight, Solas saved the entire world. The entire world. Every living being in Thedas had a chance at life because of him. Only because of him.
Morrigan says it early on in the game, that for all the consequences of the veil (which, it also must be said, was not supposed to be global!), "his imprisonment of the Evanuris was just. Had he not done so, all of Thedas would have fallen to the Blight."
And the world has hated him for it.
He woke after sleeping for millennia, exhausted by this immense act of magic, to discover that not only had it gone horribly wrong, but that it had cost his people everything. That Tevinter had come in and enslaved them, released a trickle of the Blight after breaking into the Black City, used so much blood magic that the veil itself all over Thedas has been in tatters--not least because in releasing the Blight, the survivors had had to face down and kill the dragon thralls (archdemons) of the Evanuris, rendering five out of seven of them mortal, and with their deaths over the intervening centuries, the veil had grown threadbare with only two Evanuris sustaining it.
The risks were catastrophic, the price unbearable.
Everything he'd ever done to protect the world could still come crashing down...and in a sick twist of fate, he would be alive to see it.
And, shockingly, so would Mythal.
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Mythal, whose fragment has just been chilling in a swamp for centuries in human form. Mythal, whose abuse of him lasted through the entirety of the world's history. Mythal, who, due to the Evanuris's betrayal and her abusee's abandonment, has become little more than retribution.
Mythal, who could have set him free at any point in all this time and didn't, because he was hers.
Mythal, who is the only remaining person with the power to do what he feels must be done.
I find it interesting that they chose not to use the post-Inquisition dialogue at all. Interesting also that they used Mythal's voice actor and not Flemeth's. This feels like a retcon, but we'll go with it. Whatevs.
"I knew that you would find me soon enough. You need the power of a god, the strength that I alone still carry."
She's still asserting her own godhood.
He's not having it. "The blighted Evanuris will soon break free from their prison. I must make a stronger one that can contain them."
He's not wrong. Not even a little bit wrong. And he's also right that she won't help him. Why would she? She never has.
"While the prison is important, it is not the only goal you seek."
"Why should I not tear down the veil? And bring back immortality to all the elven people? They deserve it."
And this is where I get even more raging, because Mythal's answer is this: "The elven people of today do not deserve to see the world they love torn apart to salve your conscience."
I'm sorry, what?
The world they love? The world that has offered them nowt but literal genocide for thousands of years? The world where in Tevinter, they're chattel slaves and worse, fuel for blood magic without a thought? The world where in the "civilised", slaveless nations to the south, they're either confined to alienages and subjected to repeated genocide (that's what a "purge" is, if anyone isn't clear on that) or the remnants of the Dales, who are the descendents of another enormous genocide? The world where elven magic has been pillaged but elven mages in human settlements are confined to Circles and abused or made tranquil or also genocided by Templars invoking the Rite of Annulment? The world where they're called "elf savage" and "rabbit" and "knife ear" and cannot participate in Thedosian religious life because the Chantry erases every instance of elves from even the Chant of Light? The world where it took the Inquisitor installing a perpetrator of genocide on the Orlesian throne (both Celene AND Gaspard fit this bill) and either having Celene reconcile with Briala (Briala and Celene's relationship could be a whole other post. Boak.) and blackmailing them to give a single elf lands and a title? That world????
What the fuck, Mythal, die faster.
I got real mad there for a second. I'm fine. I'm fine!
Solas, once more, simply says, "I must fix what I have broken. I am sorry."
More than she deserves, frankly. Man's a mess, but at least he tries. She's been chilling in a swamp and pulling puppet strings for ages and abusing her kids. Nudging history like it's some sort of hobby, because it has always just been pieces on a board to her. They have never been people in her eyes like they are in his.
"As am I, old friend."
Aye, get tae fuck. Friends don't treat friends the way you treated Solas. The closest thing to an apology Solas will ever get from her is that she pretty much just lies down and dies when he comes to kill her. And she still won't set him free before he does. Has to continue to twist her own knife.
This scene has me riled.
And this takes us back to the beginning of this post.
To her essence showing up to release him from her service.
In what is, to me, the least accountable, bare minimum non-apology (she never actually says she's sorry) I've had the displeasure to witness in a videogame, with Solas literally cowering before her and offering her a knife to kill him with since this is the first time he's seen her actual, non-Flemythal face since she died.
This was never a friendship of equals. Ever.
She got one thing right. She did break him. But she knew it all this time, and she never took a single step to put it right until pushed. Her corner of the Crossroads, which he built for her in the desperate hope that she would show a glimmer of the friend he believed she was, notably has a pair of wolf statues. Both beheaded.
She's spent all this time punishing him further.
He never went to visit her? I wouldn't either. I could not blame him.
This has gone to an angry place. So let's conclude with what is, I think, the entire point.
Grace.
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"I lied. I betrayed you."
"I forgive you."
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Has anyone--anyone--in all his long life, ever said those words to him?
I'll say that again: has anyone--ANYONE--in all his millennia of existence, EVER said those words to him?
I forgive you.
Mythal certainly didn't.
The world certainly didn't.
He has shouldered all the blame of an entire pantheon, a war that broke the world, a blight, everything, always, and while people have come alongside him to help him, I am not sure anyone (certainly not anyone he cares about) has given him the grace of forgiveness.
The beauty of this final scene for me wasn't just Ilaana, wasn't just Ilaana reuniting with the man she has loved for a decade who has spent all that time pushing her away so he couldn't--in his mind--inevitably poison the love of the only person who has seen his spirit and cherished it without twisting him.
It was the slow realisation that Rook trusted his love enough to try.
It was Morrigan, who carries all Mythal's memories and her own of Flemythal's abuse and machinations, who responds to Rook's question about her views of Solas with: "Or do you mean to discover if I would stand directly against the Dread Wolf, were there a need? I shall aid you in any way but that. What has passed between Solas and Mythal...I beg you: do not ask this of me again."
Morrigan knows. She will not raise a hand against him. She will not try to stop him. She will let the veil fall. She will not fight with Rook. Because she knows this being whose memories she holds has harmed him enough.
Solas, in these final moments, even before Mythal shows up to gut punch him, realises all these people have somehow, somehow, banded together to help him.
Not work for him.
Not be his agents.
Not worship him.
Not follow him blindly.
To help him. To help Solas. To help him, after all this time, take the first steps towards himself. Towards his own essence, so long twisted into something he never sought or wanted.
The Inquisitor and Morrigan certainly understand what it's like to be seen only as the symbol others raise in your image. Rook will learn that someday, but is still naive.
But even with that naivete, willing. Present. Able to put aside being a chess piece on his board. Able to see that they would never have succeeded without his help. Able to trust two people who know him better than they ever will.
Able to offer him grace.
And when they produce Mythal's essence, how that must brutalise him; to think that perhaps all this has been to let his abuser kill him back. He clearly thinks that's what's happening. He breaks. He fawns. He offers her the blade that has caused so much pain.
Her release of him is the bare minimum she owes him. I've already railed about that.
What is transcendent here, transformative--it is the mortals.
The mortals offering grace to a god who never wanted to be a god.
It's them together showing him a way out of an endless cycle of trauma and abuse. No one of them alone is enough. Without Rook, they wouldn't have Mythal's essence; Morrigan can't go get it, and she can't do what is needed because she's not actually Mythal, only has her memories. Without Morrigan, who can stand there with those memories but from the compassionate perspective of someone who has watched them in horror from the outside. She's far from objective, but she can do this one thing to help.
Without the Inquisitor (romanced or not, still someone he let know him as he most desperately wanted to be known--the Fade-walker, the Dreamer, the humble mage who desperately needed a friend). The Inquisitor, who kneels before him to comfort him. Who sees his hurt and responds.
If romanced, without Lavellan, who kneels to repeat back words he once shouted at the Nightmare in the Fade after Adamant.
"Dirth ma, harellan. Ma banal enasalin. Mar solas ema mar din." (Speak, traitor. Your victory was fruitless. Your pride gives way only to your death.)
To which Solas replied, "Banal nadas."
On the surface, nothing is inevitable, but can also be taken to mean that nothingness is inevitable, entropy, the final void. (Thanks to Dumped, Drunk, and Dalish for this excellent long post on this scene.)
And here is Lavellan, kneeling beside him with those words. "Banal nadas ar lath, ma vhenan."
Nothing is inevitable but the love we share, my heart.
I see everything you are, all you have done, and I love you. I forgive you for the pain you have caused me. I understand, see, and forgive.
No one has ever shown him grace like this.
Ever.
And Solas, this shattered man, sobs.
He sobs.
Someone has taken the trouble to isolate his voice in the video. This man has nothing left. And, after millennia of this trauma cycle repeating over and over, he is finally free to make the choice he wants to make. It's not the outcome he wants; that has to be said. He doesn't want to leave the veil up. He doesn't want to be bound into prison forever with no hope of seeing the world he fought for ever return.
But he is done.
In the Fade after Adamant, there is a cemetery with the worst fears of every companion scriven on shrines and stones. Solas's is dying alone.
After all of this, he is willing to face just that--and would, if not for her.
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She knows his deepest fears. She has faced the demon Mythal made of the man she loves. She has given unwitting comfort to the spirit of Wisdom still within. She has seen his sweetest self. Nurtured him, cherished him, and has been nurtured and cherished in return.
Does she want to leave the world behind and spend eternity in a Fade prison? Probably not her first choice. It's not my Ilaana's; she has been on his side all this time, dreaming of a world where the spirits she loves can be reunited with the world in peace and ready to make that happen.
But it was not supposed to happen this way. It did happen this way anyway.
He has sacrificed everything--everything--including his own spirit self, his soul, his life. How could she not offer him what no one ever has? A friend forever, a lover willing to walk the din'an shiral by his side, a companion to ward off the forever alone.
Together, the two of them can begin to heal, with their counterpart who has always seen through the burdens of the world to the soul within.
This is the only thing I've ever had any faith in. Grace I know you carry us Grace And it was such a mess Grace I don't say it enough Grace You are so loved
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rafayelxsylusho · 3 months ago
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i feel like i never see this.. but lads men & daddy kink ? like how would they react if you let it slip out one day
Hiiiiii!!! I hope you like it!!
When you call them daddy
Rafayel/Zayne/Xavier/Sylus/Caleb
TW: SMUT
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RAFAYEL 🐡
He freezes for a moment, breath hitching in his throat as he hears you let out a choked gasp and a small whimper of"Daddy." He tightens his grip on your hair, yanking your head back and exposing the smooth column of your neck He pulls your body flush against his lean, toned chest as he continues to thrust into you from behind. You can feel his heart pounding, his breath hot on your ear as he leans down.
"Did you just...?" Rafayel growls, voice low and rough with barely restrained desire. His hips never stop their relentless rhythm, cock driving into you with deep, powerful thrusts. "Did you call me Daddy?" He punctuates the question with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his pelvis against your ass.
"Well well," he murmurs, his other hand sliding around your waist "I didn't know you were into that, cutie." You grasp his hand, leading it up to your breast, he squeezes and kneads the tender flesh, thumb and forefingers plucking and rolling your stiffening nipple. He pins you harder against him, one hand dipping down to where you're joined. Fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub as he starts to thrust faster and deeper. The new angle has him hitting that spot inside you with every snap of his hips
A smirk tugs at his lips, eyes glinting with mischief and something more intense, more possessive. "Fuck, cutie... you want Daddy to take care of you? Beg for it. Let Daddy hear you say it again" He smiles as your only responses are breathless moans and needy whimpers, your body arching into his touch. He whispers in your ear, "That's not an answer, cutie, I want to hear you say it again"
His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hip as he rolls his hips over and over again. "Who's your Daddy, baby? Say my name," he demands, voice rough with lust and anticipation. You can barely whimper his name when you feel your orgasm crash over you. He feels you clench and quiver around him as you come undone, your cries of "Daddy!" music to his ears.
Zayne🥼
Zayne's hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he hilts himself fully inside you. A low groan rumbles in his chest, vibrating against your sensitive breast where his lips and tongue tease and suckle your hardened nipple. He laves the bud with the flat of his tongue before giving it a sharp nip, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to your core.
The desk creaks and shakes beneath you with each powerful thrust of Zayne's hips, his broad frame looming over your smaller one. The lamp on the desk wobbles, casting erratic shadows on the wall.
His hips slam forward, the desk shaking violently as you cry out, "Yes, Daddy!" Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving crescent marks in his skin as your body clenches around his throbbing length. Zayne pauses, hips still buried deep inside your heat. He looks down at you, hazel eyes darkening with lust and a hint of surprise at your words
Zayne's smile widens, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he looms over you. He rolls his hips slowly, deliberately, grinding against that sensitive spot deep inside. His voice is a low, husky rumble. "What was that, darling? I didn't quite catch that... Want to try again? Go on, sweetheart say it again." His thumb traces the curve of your lower lip, a silent command in the gesture, urging you to give him the words he craves.
"Daddy," you breathe out, the word falling from your lips like a prayer and a plea all at once. Your fingers scrabble at his back, nails digging into his skin you try to pull him closer, to bury him deeper inside you. "Please, Daddy... I need... I need you to fuck me. Fuck me hard and deep until I can't think of anything but you." Your voice rises in pitch, desperation clear in every word. 
A low, approving growl rumbles from Zayne's chest at your plea. "That's my good girl," he praises, before crashing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. At the same time, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt inside you. He sets a punishing pace, the desk shaking again beneath you with each powerful thrust. One hand tangles in your hair, gripping tight and angling your head to deepen the kiss, while the other arm wraps around your waist to pull you flush against him.
"Cum for daddy," Zayne commands. His hips piston relentlessly, the hand fisted in your hair tightens, tugging your head back to expose the column of your throat. He latches onto your pulse point, sucking and biting as he chases his own release. "Let me feel you cum apart on my cock, sweetheart," he murmurs against your skin. "Squeeze daddy's dick with your tight little cunt. Milk me dry. Give me everything."
Xavier 🌟🌟
Xavier's hips undulate slowly, his hard length sliding in and out of your wet cunt with sensual precision. Warm water streams down his toned chest and abs, dripping onto your curves as you sit straddled on his lap in the deep tub. His hands grip your waist, thumbs kneading the soft flesh as he rocks into you, the gentle waves lapping at your skin with each measured thrust.
One hand slides up your side, cupping your breast and squeezing gently as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. He trails his lips down the column of your throat, pausing to suckle at your pulse point. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, matching the throbbing of his cock driving into your core.
"Nghh...Daddy...."
Xavier groans, a shudder rippling through his tall frame at the sound of your breathy moan and the pet name falling from your lips. His hips jerk, burying himself deep inside you as he fights the sudden urge to let go. "Fuck, y/n... don't call me that," he grits out through clenched teeth, voice strained with barely restrained desire. "Not unless you want me to fill this sweet cunt right here and now..."
The water sloshes around you, spilling over the side of the tub as he starts to increase his pace, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. His lips crash against yours in a kiss, swallowing your next moan as he starts to piston his hips faster, the water moving around you. One hand fists in your hair, tugging your head back to deepen the kiss as the other arm bands around your waist, crushing you against his chest. He kisses you until you're both breathless, until the coil of heat in your belly winds so tight you think you might shatter.
Suddenly, he lifts you out of the tub and carries you dripping to the bed, laying you down on the cool sheets. He looms over you, eyes blazing with lust and something deeper, more primal. He settles between your thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging insistently at your entrance. His large hands grip your knees, pushing them up and apart until your legs are bent at a 90 degree angle, nearly folded against your chest. It leaves you utterly exposed, vulnerable, at his mercy.
He leans down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he growls,
"Daddy is going to fuck you hard now, princess. Fuck you until you scream, until this needy little cunt is dripping with my cum"
Sylus🐦‍⬛
Sylus smirks playfully, eyes flashing crimson as he pins you harder against the wall, hips snapping sharply against yours. One large hand grips your thigh possessively while the other tangles in your hair, forcing your head to the side to bare your throat to his hungry mouth. Each powerful thrust grinds his pelvis against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure shooting up your spine.
He moans against your throat, feeling your fingers gripping his silky hair. He bucks into you harder. His hand on your thigh slides up to grope your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as he pulls you tighter against him. The wall creaks under the force of his thrusts and the rough treatment of your body. He then hikes your leg up higher, changing the angle and letting him drive into your pussy much deeper. "Who do you belong to, kitten? Say my fucking name."
"I belong to you...daddy!!" you whimper, eyes squeezed shut, tits bouncing in rhythm to his delicious thrusts. He licks a hot stripe up your neck before biting down on your earlobe, tugging it between his teeth. Sylus chuckles darkly, a glint in his crimson eyes as he feels your needy walls flutter around his cock. He slows his thrusts, grinding against that special spot deep inside you with maddening precision. "Louder, kitten, I didn't quite catch that. "You're going to have to be louder than that if you want daddy to hear you." Come on, y/n. Tell daddy who this greedy little pussy belongs to. Let me hear you scream it," Sylus demands, voice dripping with dark promise and barely restrained hunger.
He leans in close, breath hot against your lips as he rolls his hips, stirring his thick length inside your clenching heat. His hand releases your hair to wrap around your throat, not squeezing, but a clear warning of what's to come if you don't give him what he wants.
"I'M YOURS, DADDY!" you scream at the top of your lungs, voice ragged and desperate, just the way he wants it. Your nails dig into his scalp as you cling to him, back arching off the wall as he rails into your aching core. "I belong to you, Sylus! All yours!"
"That's right, you're fucking MINE," he snarls, eyes blazing with feral hunger as he claims your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving deep to stake his ownership of you in every way possible. He hooks your other leg around his arm, nearly bending you in half as he looms over you, a dark god of lust and depravity. His hips are a blur as he pounds your over-sensitive flesh.
"Now cum for me" he rasps, eyes wild and intense "Give daddy what he wants."
Caleb 🪐
Caleb's breath catches as he feels your pussy engulfing him, inch by inch. His hands grip your waist, fingers digging into the supple flesh as he guides you down onto his throbbing cock. He fights the urge to buck up into you, to bury himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. No, he wants to savor this moment, to make it last.
"Fuck..." he grits out, eyes darkening to a stormy indigo as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "You feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock. So tight, so perfect..."
"Ride me, pipsqueak," he urges, his own hips surge upwards, meeting each of your slow, sensual rolls with a powerful thrust. This angle has him hitting depths you've never felt before, striking that secret spot deep inside that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. A sharp cry escapes your lips, back arching as pleasure crashes through you. His eyes darken with hunger as he watches you grip the armrest of his chair, knuckles turning white, and start to ride him with wild abandon. The sight of you taking your pleasure from him, using him for your own satisfaction, sends a surge of lust pulsing through his veins.
His hands grip your hips, fingers sinking into the flesh of your ass as he guides your increasingly frenzied movements. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through his office as you bounce on his lap, your tits jiggling with each forceful thrust. He leans forward, capturing one nipple between his teeth and biting down just hard enough to make you gasp. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud before he suckles hard, sending jolts of electric pleasure straight to your cunt.
"Gods it f..feels so fucking nghh...good daddy!!" you moan, eyes rolling back.
Caleb's heart stops, time seems to freeze as your breathless words reach his ears. The way you called him 'daddy' is almost his undoing. He stills your frantic movements, gripping your hips tightly as he fights the overwhelming urge to let go, to fill your spasming cunt with every last drop of his seed. He's so close, teetering right on the razor's edge of ecstasy, your fluttering walls milking his throbbing length so perfectly.
"What did you just call me, pipsqueak?" he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and something darker, more possessive. "You called me...daddy?" He says the word slowly, almost reverently, as if tasting it on his tongue. His hands slide up your sides, coming to rest just below your breasts, thumbs brushing the undersides.
"I liked the sound of that," he murmurs, leaning in until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. "I liked it a fucking lot. In fact... I think I want to hear you say it again. Say it while I fuck you, while I make you scream it for the whole office to hear. Say it while I fill this greedy little cunt with my cum."
One hand slides up to wrap around your throat, possessively holding you in place. The other hand grips your ass hard enough to leave bruises, pulling you down onto him as he thrusts up into you with newfound ferocity. "Say it, pipsqueak" he demands, his voice a low, feral growl as he pounds into you with increasing intensity. His hand tightens around your throat, his other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place as he thrust into you. The chair creaks beneath you, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing again through the room as he takes you hard and fast.
"Yes Daddy!" you cry out, your voice ringing through the office as Caleb pounds into you with renewed vigor. "It's yours, all yours! This pussy belongs to you, only you!"
Your words seem to unleash something primal within him. He stands, lifting you effortlessly as he rises, never once pulling his throbbing length from your clinging heat. He strides purposefully to his desk, sweeping the surface clear with one powerful arm before laying you down upon it. He leans down, capturing your mouth in a brutal kiss, swallowing your screams as he drives into you with all the force of a man possessed
"Let go, pretty girl," he whispers in your ear, his voice a low, seductive rumble that sends shivers cascading down your spine. "Let Daddy feel you come undone."
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