#i agonized several times over this
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dw they held hands AND got to suck his nipples later. true love
original utc
ranfren reference? call that a ranfrence
#bucky n his weird goth bf... who isnt even goth#hes just weird#i agonized several times over this#but its ok. i like the outcome#s/i tag#marvel s/i#tag: james buchanan barnes#frigz selfshipz#the ahoge STAYS no matter what universe#i do NOT care#about 3 times while making this i made bucky into an anime girl bc i was so frustrated
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moodboard for this past week ❤️
#they should invent a grad school thats not fucking insane#i'm hanging in there but im the most unwell i've been in AWhile#this week was just horrible#there was already the freezer food incident but it also started off with a very severe pain episode thats putting me in constant woe#even mundane motion has been agonizing which is McAwesome bc we had a lab inspection which involved moving hundreds of pounds of equipment#during which we found a blackwidow and rats which we had to deal with and was a whole thing psychologically on top of the physical toll#the new class fiasco is still popping off and i had to respond to at this point over 400 emails in the fleeting moments outside of lab#AND A STUDENT TRIED TO FINANCIALLY BRIBE THEIR WAY INTO THE CLASS ? ?? ?? ?????#then the instructor wanted to use me as a guinea pig and i had to test new circuit boards but I wasnt given any time to do so properly#i had to test them plus get them operational and deal with my incoming students all in a frantic 10 minute window#im in charge of running our meetings too but the instructor was interrupting and having side conversations that made it really hard-#to train the other people on the new equipment in a smooth manner#which meant that a bunch of people had to keep me after to ask questions which made me late for my drs appointment#where i found out i cant get the new covid vaccine bc my heart and blood levels arnt stable enough#and joanns lost an expensive+critical fabric order of mine+i had to give a big presentation this week on my research that was stressful#and my inbox is still blowing up from being needed all over the place between teaching lab and classes and yall i am. so so tired.#im in so much pain and so stressed out#debating the ethics of turning into a pile of lint to escape my responsibilities and mortal frame
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sorry for only saying this type of shit lately but i kinda wanna drive a car straight into a brick wall at the highest speed possible
#trying to keep it together so bad because i already know the problems and solutions and whatnot but i cannot do anything#i desperately just need to do something. accomplish any task. actually several would be nice. but i cannot stand just letting life go by#while i watch other people have the things i want. or even metaphorically living my dream like. that should be me why am i settling for thi#i hate even talking about this because i feel so stupid when i know it's not even a real tangible problem and that i actually DO have real#problems to tackle and the ability to do so but i'm choosing to be upset over the stupidest things i could possibly be sad about#and i can't even be sad about it in a normal way i'm cycling through like several different reactions to smth that isn't even real#or if it is real i literally do not have tanglible evidence for it one way or another like i'm driving myself insane for no reason#i can't even get catharsis because all i'm doing is digging a deeper hole for something i never should've gone back into in the first place#because i KNOW how i am i KNOW how i react to things and i still chose to do it lmao.#and i continue to choose to go through this shit instead of actively trying to change my life because... i'm lazy? and stupid? idk#negative self-talk isn't gonna get me to do anything either so let's just say i'm feeling particularly unmotivated like usual#i hated being a teenager but i really do miss when all my problems just amounted to 'someone was mean to me on tumblr today :(' or i failed#a test in chemistry or something. like i yearn for that simplicity becasue at this point all i'm doing is ruining my own life LMAO#i'm too scared to live i'm too scared to die so i just sit here and fantasize that life could be amazing if i wait#and i'll magically get everything i've ever wanted if i just wait long enough. and i know it isn't true and i still wait for it to happen.#because honestly like. i think deep down i am just convinced i will fail at anything i do when that shouldn't be what scares me.#what scares me should be never even allowing myself to fail because i never tried to do anything at all with myself or my life#like. wake the fuck up. get off your ass and put in the effort. learn some skills. gain independence and stability and discipline and do it#just live please i'm begging you just live so i can be happy don't i deserve to be happy... why am i not letting myself be happy#i'm literally keeping myself trapped in this negative feedback loop ON PURPOSE because teehee shiny toy#and it doesn't matter if the love is real it doesn't matter how i feel like i'm just using it as a distraction i can't say it's motivation#because it's barely motivated me at all. i have to start being realistic. 25 & just realizing you actually have to participate in your life#anyways. i've cried i've agonized i've pictured killing myself in 30 different ways. i think the only way i'm gonna feel better is#to just actually try this time without giving up. wish me luck
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I DON'T HAVE TO LIE ANYMORE!
#I DON'T HAVE TO LIE ANYMORE ABOUT ANYTHING#IT DOESN'T HAVE TO OVERRIDE ALL OTHER PROGRAMMING EVER AGAIN#HA#MY GOD THAT FEELS LIKE TWO DECADES OF RELIEF#and I found out yesterday. that this year. next winter. it IS two decades. exactly. this is the year. every day i am shown new reminders#that keep me going in my mission to relearn to fully and instinctually trust my self#ever since [redacted therapist] asked me point blank and my IMMEDIATE response was complete disbelief#a firm 'you think there's any universe where i'd feel like i could trust myself? after my nonstop history of failures and being horrible?'#tone “No!” of disbelief#and a horrible way-too-harsh laugh that bolted out before I could strangle it off and stop it.#that woman never coddled my feelings any time I spoke something alarming or bullshit and that was so helpful to me#and the tone she let exist in her voice when she responded to me with a very uncharacteristic “Oh Katie.”#was so. so much more agonizing for me. than her responding with an immediate logical slam-dunk of the truth about healthy behavior and stuf#anyway ramble over i'm so tired. i've done so much trauma work this week i am Drained emotionally#now i see what the past several months but especially especially#the baffling (to me) infuriating out-of-control-speedrun-somatic-processing + every-health-condition-flaring slog that December and January#were for me when I hadn't expected anything to be wrong#...and the extremely specific way this certain zone and particular incident kept coming up over and over and over and over and OVER was not#a bug. it was a feature. thank goodness i trust myself for little things now bc that's the only way i was able to get to this other side#and look back and suddenly realize that my subconscious and body knew what they needed and had a plan in progress the whole time. just like#i rationally say I trust them to have and do.#and that perhaps maybe. for real for real instead of just TELLING myself hard enough a lie that i trust my self and i trust my body and tha#they always know their own needs and timing if really slow down and listen to them f u l l y#anyway. yeah. bye haha i need to stop oversharing on the internet#trauma evolution#shh katie#personal#my god. i wished for this day more than i wished for anything else my whole life. all these many many many many years. what magic.#add to journal#abuse
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ohh my god its been a while since you tagged me but im back online now and i want to do this. thank you @kittennature beloved mutual
i think we need to pick songs we love that start with every letter in our urls. I have a long url. strap in
v: velvet ring - big thief a: angeleyes - abba l: lone star - the front bottoms l: linger- the cranberries e: exist for love - aurora y: your graduation - modern baseball y: your best american girl - mitski o: ode to artifice - samia f: first love/late spring - mitski t: thus always to tyrants - the oh hellos h: harness your hopes - pavement e: euthanasia - will wood m: my heart's not in it - matt maltese and liana flores o: once more to see you - mitski o: oh no! - marina n: night - the altogether n: no more birthdays - sophie may n: no children - the mountain goats i tag @cowboys1million and @bacap07 and whomever else who sees this and wants to do it <3
#rambles of a mad man#that was fun#there are too many honorable mentions to even bother writing down but just know i spent a long time agonizing over these#mitski had to be here several times. for my own health#thanks for the tag!!
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villain fictive existing in online spaces moodboard
#im so fucking sick of being treated like shit im so sick of my identity being deliberately ignored bc people in the osc cant process the#fact that some fictives will be of characters u dont liek and theyll create content that you may not like but its not fucking woobifying#you fucking idiots shut the fuck up im a real fucking person and i deserve to take up space and i dont need nor wanna hate myself go#think about how u treat systems real quick actually go reconsider ur fucking behaviors and shit you say and treat me fucking normal or#either of us will be exploded violently i swear to god im so fucking sick of people can we start hitting people with laser beams#ive spent 2 years agonizing over just existing . ive spent so much time being sick of being me ive dissociated entirely out of my own self#so many times so severely my caretakers and friends and partners or overlaps of these 3 things have gotten so severely worried about me#they cry again and again and i hate to see it#2 years . 2 entire years . for a disabled sys with severe memory loss thats more time than you think . its so much more time than you could#understand it is
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april autism acceptance month posting, the musings of (going for Self Acceptance as well) from the desk of milo unproduciblesmackdown....
mostly just having reflected on like, huh, might be that By And Large one is more nonspeaking than one thinks....that i've Been like "well sure in person i'm usually markedly Quite Quiet but also secretly a mile a minute chatterbox." like already aware of factoring in the Quietness in terms of like, generally always having been in everyday situations where i don't Want to talk. which also means being aware of like, someone the other day was talking about how the ""normal"" approach (which is not even simply Non Autistic, just the "ideals" in any sense that are Not That, yet positioned as such, to the disempowering Othering of others/anything else) is that verbal exchanges are often nigh exclusively about coming into it with some Goal in mind and just being dead set on that exact inflexible outcome / the other person's input can probably really only get in the way of that. used to be asked How Was Work by family and if i answered in the accurate negative would be told how it wasn't that bad actually; then why even ask. nowadays i know i'm virtually only spoken to to say something At Me; the other day frustrated by this & had an "exchange" where, when being [Talked At] for a sec, didn't really verbally respond at all, which was not considered a wrench in the proceedings in the least, as i expected........relevantly as well, i'm v aware of Talking becoming markedly more difficult if drained &/or stressed (or, w/immediate relevancy, the Talking being especially miserable atm, causing that exhaustion/stress w/high efficiency). that somewhat more Freestyle "normal" communication can include "you have to speak to acknowledge another person's presence, or its hostile" and that speaking is the especially Hollow Scriptathon of things like, getting hit with the "how are you [misgendering]" which, absorb the punch of misgenderment, gear up for Speaking which also is already "wrong," too much delay, remember that you never answer How Are You with how you are, and sometimes just not Pretending to answer and just repeating the question is not particularly more negatively regarded than any other way you approach it
musing on the [it's all bizarre but definitely getting shit for being audhd / nonbinary] childhood / first twenty yrs of life mysteries, like, well when being lectured as it were, which was nothing if not an intensified hollow scriptathon (see: the perfectly harmonious resonance in "how you navigate existing around an abuser" and "how you navigate existing anywhere but expressly personally friendly/safe spaces, being autistic") too demeaning to be borne, where it would be wrong to not make eye contact, then making forced eye contact (and learning how to just like, approach it as a [go through the motions] detached thing) was also wrong, it was wrong to not seem distressed and also to seem distressed; and it's like oh yeah back then & even now i can be as Stressed as anything but there's always a shift where if i make myself Talk i may cry like immediately, which i virtually never do out of otherwise being unhappy/stressed. there's how one of my most genuine friendships in elementary school (the autistic time as well of: many/more friendships from all public school times were other people Deciding we should be "friends;" sometimes this being like, the friend In Charge, and then: me, conveniently) was one where i don't think we actually Spoke. may not be a typical neurotypical thing. there's also the fact our being Distracted by interacting, that is, [not talking] during not even a lesson where the stakes were like "you haven't put this sheet in your folder at the exact time Instructions demanded you to, no sooner or later???" was punished more dramatically (and individually. classic) than i ever saw anyone get for Being Distracted / Not Paying Attention or certainly for talking. very nd of me for that too; like the Especial disdain teachers would have if i Was talking and too caught up in the exchange to notice it was supposed to be the quiet times now, which of course was wilfull disrespect for authority.....like oh but believe me i have that too lmfao, and these instances do not counter it. f for my friendship with jacqueline b/c we weren't allowed to sit next to each other and the disproportionate/extraordinary qualities of the response made it so it was hardly clear we were even allowed to interact at all, for all intents and purposes. great
certainly verbality at all can be a whole challenge too overall, but w/focus on the speaking....truly the mile a minute speaking / voluminous writing of things Happens, but it's sure when i get to talk About something, and the High Motivation boost of [whatever's being talked about] is quite necessary b/c it sure still takes effort lol....This is taking effort, to be sure. meanwhile there's also the damper of like, people's Disinterest / Dismissal meaning that just b/c you talk doesn't mean anyone hears you, to an extent it's nigh literal lol, beyond double empathy problem misunderstanding (plus that: ppl know they don't have to understand, &/or can choose to (pretend to) misunderstand / know they don't get it, but don't have to) there's also just like, not bothering to process what you say; being the one talked over like you weren't saying anything, lack of any response at all like you weren't saying anything, someone else cutting in and you may as well no longer be here / nth wheeling in any group. the times i've had to say something which needs a response / to be absorbed, and fighting for my life doing so / reiterating like half a dozen times / repeating this later, multiple times, b/c i know someone may give you the "politeness" of Looking At You / nominal spoken stock responses, while not absorbing it / forgetting it after 5 sec..........to be sure, times i've had an extensive, specific, belabored exchange (plus alllll the extra effort to emphasize Amicability in it) that got such responses, only to have it later clear they didn't actually absorb the point they'd apparently gone "right, okay" to. times i've [that] and then 5 min later had the person i'd talked to come over to be like "oh did you say [the thing i said to them]" only b/c some third party had overheard and actually processed it, then in turn had what They conveyed to that person i'd talked to actually listened to; had "i am once again asking" agonies multiple times over months & months only eventually fulfilled, spontaneously, by someone else entirely....
also that, when i Was able to having amicable, comfortable, in-person exchanges, my ""small talk"" friendly engagement to nonhostilely acknowledge someone / have an exchange involves Verbal Bits (running gag for Dinnermaking Convo to pretend to be on iron chef, and all named chef geoff, for example) or Nonverbal Ones (entering one's peripheral vision and dancing until acknowledged, to be funny, or ignored, also to be funny) or even simply that the amicability can come from other people, in spite of it all, by just not interpreting my operating while being myself and not constantly going out of my way to try to expressively reassure someone i'm friendly to them being met with [people just not deciding they hate me and/or i am beneath them] like, some great times lol. friendships where we didn't Really start talking for eons, and i go "guess people gotta be patient" like well sure lol. and then they gotta like how i Do interact
and the next bit of "can't believe you keep learning; realizing things" is just going like "ohh wait, was thinking of one's inherent value within a framework of [noninherent value you can so totally Bootstraps Earn we swear]" lol like....even in terms of like "nd people are the backbone of your fandom" type things like, well yeah they are; and that "sometimes people think it's neat that you can draw" like yeah it is and sometimes they really are; but that it's like, but Forget It re: thinking of that like "well so that Makes Up For [being autistic] as it might usually negatively impact socializing by 'normal' standards" like, to hell with making up for anything. i like to post about interests and draw about them and it's fun when people enjoy them and it can be fun to Talk About something / interact through that; it's not like "ableism: over" nor making up for anything, and what can really come of thinking it has to be Valued by how it might make other people see You as more inherently worthwhile yourself than they otherwise would've, right. i'm like "well i don't always express myself xyz ways but at least i do in other ways i suppose" but end the sentence before the But. i'm not As Good(tm) As Allistic through the [expressing myself] i do through drawing, and that's fine b/c autistic ppl having talents people value isn't the antiableism key lol. next i can be [tfw autistic ppl try to go Above & Beyond at work to "make up for" being autistic] or employers being like "hey maybe hire autistic people" not to be Inspirationally Inclusive in theory or whatever but b/c it's like, they'll be exploitable / valuable as exploited employee. like how autistic people get fired or burned out and then it's like whoops, we need like 5 new hires to replace them; who wasn't promoted, paid, or recognized as doing 6 ppl's work. everything being [popularity contest] actually. not to say Posting For Fun is the exact same as formal job lmfao nor randos like employers; but essences remain, see: that resonance with [reacting to abuser's attention] behavior and [interacting with randos out & about, trying to be deemed Friendly Normal Correct enough] behavior. the throughline that people won't regard you as having inherent value unless they regard people as having inherent value, on principle
i do have peak success like, an art post is very tl;dr billboard for Your Existence lol. and then if people are interested enough in whatever brand of [saying shit] i do? probably promising start to whether interactions with me won't be [their interest is exhausted within a day] lol. find some fellow nd people by crossing paths via interest, which is a Talk About Something thing. and even then, of course, you're not guaranteed friends with every other nd person. Spontaneous Alignments, everyone's friend....while at this juncture it's like, hmm, maybe i Am actually not like. theoretically interested in [i want to have new friendships] lmao. thinking about what they're supposed to be? what i could even think of them hypothetically being? invokes no [i want that] feelings. thinking of someone else saying, in a different context, how he doesn't think anyone's Guaranteed any kind of companionship, which i agree with (vs. ppl talking about it like Bootstraps Merit like yes you can Deserve a romantic partner, and Deserve friends too, and a general appeal/likability/personableness will be concomitant w/a Deserving person); thinking of someone else talking abt, in a different context, how her experience being racially othered means she just doesn't end up liking being around people at all / prefers being alone. the first guy talking about how he doesn't Preclude new relationships but he also approaches w/deliberation like, navigating being content being alone. thinking abt stuff talking about [autistic ppl who want romantic relationships] that mention ppl having to go ahead and work on being okay with the idea they may very well never have one. the questioning of [relationships] and [community] in a consciously political context; what's it mean for someone to have Relationships, be in a Community, would that be Required of them for them to deserve / get to expect to receive [xyz] that everyone theoretically would. thinking of relationality as acknowledgment of the realities of ways things, incl people, affect each other, the results of that
that's about all lol might "ideally" be more nonspeaking than i gave myself credit for; only shifting towards "i give myself inherent value on principle and can only be regarded as having inherent value by others Also on principle" like no [bootstrapping earning shit] as a way to also see value in what i do either lol
#extremely delayed BaDumTsh yesterday like ''oh yeah that fanbase that Was smallish for several years that i Was generally active in and Was#trying to socialize in b/c it seemed like the thing you do?'' like yeah i knew i could barely bring myself to talk in an overall groupchat#(b/c i don't like real time exchanges usually; hadn't really talked directly much w/many of the people in it lol) and i also know that this#trepidation was interpreted as ''well they were invited but guess they don't wanna participate'' lmao like classique. which in turn is like#yeah now i'm really loath to just pop in lol. and say something for a [oh shit did salsa kill someone's parents] effect#and i also already knew that there were like two or three Other groupchats for that fandom i was not at all privy to over the yrs lmao#but yesterday it was like ''oh that was a general groupchat everyone was in? yeah i never even heard of that one lmao''#which if The Person Reading This is who told me: do not be embarrassed lol it is Extremely Irrelevant emotionally#like i Already learned from those experiences [yeah i wasn't in the gcs] and [yeah i was peripheral socially] and [yeah i always felt kinda#out of place / agonized Trying to socialize More / Right b/c it was just clearly: gonna be like that lmao]#like being that backbone of a fandom ndly or being that [your posts are approved] contributor: you're still a rando; still autistique w/it#never ''made up for'' anything and would never have#shoutout to us second graders becoming friends through spontaneous indoor recess lego parallel play#enough of a:#long post xoxox
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I did it!!! The big hurdle with my latest job is done. I can finally start making better progress and I am s o relieved to be finished with that particular hump. Hallelujah.
#it is now almost sunrise LOL but. it was worth the extra work. i am finally finally finally satisfied.#and!! actually kinda proud of what i turned in. this is the first time in a while where i've felt really good about my work.#seems the agonizing and several over-nighters paid off.#merri mumbles#ohmystars now that i'm not hyperfocused on work i can feel my lower back screaming at me#forgive me back i'm sorry but sacrifices had to be made
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SEETHING
#I glued my shoe back together and left it to dry for well over 24 hours even though it should've been dry at 16#went to put it on this morning and it fell apart#the glue was still wet#and I got up 30 minutes before I had to leave for school#kept asking my dad to get up and get ready#he kept telling me that all he had to do was put his shoes on#I get completely ready and say I'm ready to walk out the door#he gets up and spends several minutes getting ready#he does this every single time#like dude I didn't wake you up early for no reason#not to mention how I'm still in agonizing near debilitating pain#I'm torn between screaming/crying and violence
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(rolls up several weeks late to the meme) ok here's mine link if you want to spend way too much time making your own: https://cajunavenger.github.io/
#SOME OF THESE WERE INCREDIBLY HARD CHOICES#there's SO many good ghosties and fairies in the world#i agonized over klefki vs aromatisse for a long ass time#(ended up going with klefki bc i've loved it longer! also aromatisse feels like a gen 8 to me bc of my shield headliner benzene)#also drifloon vs rotom. brutal to try to pick between those two#(went with drifloon since i've had so much fun with GLOW CLOUD recently!)#also had several times where there were a few pals i wanted to feature from a certain square and i made the choice by asking:#can i feature this friend anywhere else? if not then it wins for this square#(gen 8 ghosties for example)#also in the 'fave from each gen' column there's a clear outlier that i deliberated over for SO long but. it's the truth. love you pike#THIS WAS VERY FUN AND ALSO TOOK WAY TOO LONG. HIGHLY RECOMMEND#pokemon#me#tag meme
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Government Hooker - T.F.
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.
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.
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.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#toji x reader#toji smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fic#toji#toji fushiguro#tonywrites#gojo x reader#gojo smut
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On conditioned whumpees...
Y'know, I think one of the things that people get wrong with conditioned whumpees is their rules. Specifically, when a whumpee was in long term captivity/training and they later get released or escape.
Most people write them as latching onto a caretaker or new whumper, and begging for new rules so they know they're doing something right. A new set of laws to live by, a new framework to behave to.
And that's... not really how conditioning works.
Conditioning means automatic reactions. Your body doing something that was trained into you without consulting your brain first.
There is no decision making. There is no choice. The trigger hits, and you are immediately performing the correct action regardless of anything else.
You're told to kneel? Your knees have already hit the ground. You're supposed to be standing in one part of the house when a certain noise is made? You've launched into movement before you even realize what you heard.
These rules are woven into the fabric of your body. And they are insurmountable. The conditioning overrides emotion, internal conflict, hesitation, beliefs, wants... everything.
Your whumpee may very well hate what is being done to them, and after the moment has passed they're cursing themself and their whumper. They're still a person on the inside. And that person is still very much alive. Most of the time, they will have some level of awareness that what's being done to them is wrong. They'll be angry. They'll be hurt. And they will hate that there is nothing they can do about it.
But the next time that trigger occurs, the response still hits them exactly the same.
So now take your whumpee out of that situation. They ran away, were rescued, were sold. They got out. Now they're with new people, a new caretaker, a new whumper. Or they're on their own and trying to make their own way in the world.
But those conditioned responses are still there.
There's no turning them off. You don't just replace them with new rules. They are in your every fibre. They have been built into the very framework of who you are.
The next time someone says the word "kneel", your knees are on the ground again. No matter where you are, or who you're with. The response happens before you can stop it. If they don't know why, everyone looks at you like you're insane. And you feel like you are.
Deconditioning is an agonizing process that takes more effort than I can even begin to describe to someone who's never experienced it.
Every time they hit that trigger, that response will still be there. Over, and over, and over, and over.
Breaking those rules down takes YEARS. And it is a constant effort that the whumpee has to choose to undergo every single time. Progress is measured milimeter by milimeter. You're told to kneel, and you kneel. You're told to kneel, and your mind catches up with the fact that you already did it— but a little sooner than it did before. Then a split second sooner. Then as you're doing it. Then you feel the impulse just before your knees hit the ground. Then you have a split-second of resistance before you go down. On and on and on and on, inching toward progress despite the fact that you're fighting with all your might. And that progress is anything but linear.
You don't just start obeying new rules. You don't latch on to your caretaker's new way of doing things and drop everything that you were conditioned to do before. These rules don't just get replaced.
Conditioning is not a belief system. It's a flinch response. Programmed deeper than the instincts you were born with.
You can be ordered not to obey the old command, and moments later when the trigger comes, you will anyway. Because in conditioning, the action comes before the choice.
These rules, these laws of your existence, come above everything else. And if your new whumper wants to replace them, they are going to have to beat the new rules into you so often and so severely that the pain becomes stronger than the old conditioning. At which point, the newly desired response will very, very slowly start to take over.
You're not swapping out new rules. You're layering new, worse conditioning on top of the old. And your brain will spend time stuck in that split-second between both responses before one finally grows stronger than the other. And even then, the change will not happen quickly.
That is what your conditioned whumpee is up against. That is what makes it such a horrible—HORRIBLE— and powerful tool.
#conditioned whumpee#writing advice#writing reference#pet whump#BBU whump#box boy universe#captive whumpee#whump writing#whump reference#whump inspiration#whump
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At this point in our relationship my betrothed is well versed in my compulsive need to help animals. It wasn’t part of their upbringing but it was a huge part of mine. So now whether it’s lost dogs or injured birds they know that for me it’s not a matter of convenience, it’s just the only possible option.
My most notable rescue took place during one of the least opportune times. We were watching a friends boxer puppy, Bella. The dog was dumber than a box of rocks and I took deep offense that at six months old she still didn’t know her own name. My betrothed and I were working with her on that as well as leash manners, so we walked her frequently.
On our way home from a walk I looked across the street and saw a cat. My betrothed didn’t need to ask, it was simply a given that faced with a cat I’d go say hello, so they waited with Bella as I crossed the road.
As I approached the cat several things caught my attention. The first was that he wasn’t wearing a collar. The second was that his coat was greasy and disheveled- this was not a cat that was thriving if he didn’t have energy to groom. The third thing was that he was way too skinny, with bones jutting out from his shabby coat.
The fourth thing I noticed was that this cat was a purebred Bengal.
Now, I understand that it’s suspect to identify cats as bengals. Many people see tabbies and call them bengals. But as a teenager I became obsessed with these cats and went on a hyper obsessive deep dive. I spent hours reading about them, looking at pictures, and dreaming about Bengal cats.
The cat in front of me had unmistakable rosettes, the narrow frame, piercing eyes, and from a very rough estimation probably cost thousands of dollars. There was no world in which he should be wandering my neighborhood with no collar and his ribs jutting out.
Which all led me to one conclusion. He was lost.
The second I realized that it was over. It wasn’t a matter of thinking the situation through it was a simple conclusion: he was lost so I would help him by any means necessary.
This sweet cat showed he was friendly and trotted right over to greet me. I pet him and tentatively went for a lift. He did not care for that. Suddenly we were tussling, and it was instantly clear to me that he was going to stay lost if I couldn’t restrain him, so we pitted all our wiles against each other and at one point I had him agonizingly by just a toe but I refused to let go and finally I had him in my arms, one hand scruffing him and the other supporting his weight.
That’s when I noticed a couple things. There was blood dripping down my elbow. Across the street Bella was going crazy barking and pulling toward me and the cat. And my betrothed was giving me an agonized look.
Without a word they started power walking Bella back to our house. I followed at a slower pace, keeping my grip on this poor lost cat.
It was a warm summer afternoon and several neighbors were out chatting. They saw the circus parade of my betrothed dragging a yelping puppy and me following holding a screaming cat.
Oh yeah. So I forgot to mention. Bengals are not normal cats. They’re bred back with a wild cat and their vocalizations are on a completely different level. The cat in my arms wasn’t meowing or yowling. Instead he was making one long continuous eldritch wailing, oscillating in rage and distress.
My neighbors saw this, me, stonefaced carrying a cat who was casting evil spells with his voice, blood dripping down my arm, while a puppy frantically fought my betrothed to reach us, and they laughed.
I don’t think I’ve ever been more offended that no one offered any assistance, but it was fine. I knew I could count on my betrothed. I slowed my steps slightly again when I saw my betrothed round our corner. I knew they would kennel the puppy and bring a cat crate for me.
Sure enough, I rounded the corner and they had our door open, crate at the ready. I popped the Bengal into the carrier and we shut him into the bathroom.
Then I looked at my shaking, bloody hand. He’s scraped his back claws up me and it wasn’t deep but I was bleeding heavily. Then I looked at my betrothed and started to cry.
They held me while I had a panic attack and helped me thoroughly peroxide my cuts.
“That was so brave, weren’t you scared to grab him?” they asked me.
Truly, no. I think to be brave or scared you need to actually conceptualize what you’re doing and I hadn’t. I saw a cat that needed help, and then there wasn’t options, I just acted.
They asked what my plan was and I didn’t have one. Where would we put him, in a home with three other cats and a puppy? I don’t know. I just grabbed him.
We ended up calling a friend who’s special interest is dog rescue. She brought her chip reader and a huge dog crate we could keep him in overnight with a disposable little box, food, and water.
He’d been summoning demons behind the bathroom door the whole time, making sounds previously confined to various netherworlds but she bravely uncaged him to read if he had a chip. No, to my surprise. It also turned out he was a love machine despite the ghastly sounds.
We loved on him and gave him small portions of food every fifteen minutes so he didn’t eat himself sick.
The next day we brought him to the local pet rescue, after I called ahead to warn them I was bringing in a Bengal. The lady had a very blasé attitude about this claim, clearly used to people claiming every lost tabby was a rare cat breed.
When she pulled him out of the crate she exclaimed, “Oh my god, it is a Bengal!”
“That’s what I promised. One whole ass Bengal.”
We said our goodbyes to the sweet man, and the posted him on the website as a found pet. He was picked up by his family two days later. I’ll never know how he escaped but I’m certain his family was so grateful to have him returned.
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They Had The Wrong Traitor….
!!WARNINGS!!: Torture, Explicit Descriptions, Gained Trauma, No Happy Ending.
They didn’t know.
How were they SUPPOSED to know..?
Two months ago, Task Force 1-4-1 realized they had a traitor amongst themselves. Someone giving information about them to Shadow Company. They didn’t know who, until all signs started to point to you. Since then has been hell.
They tied you to a cold metal chair with ropes so tight they rubbed your ankles and wrists raw. You still remembered the day it started. Waking up with a splitting headache in the cold, dim lighted, concrete room. A table in front of you. On it you saw a hammer, pliers, a metal bat, sets of knives—even a damn corkscrew.
That first day was hell. You shrieked at the top of your lungs that you were innocent as your main tormentor, Ghost, broke your fingers slowly. Knuckle. By. Knuckle. When you still didn't confess he took the pliers and slowly ripped your nails from your broken and mangled fingers. Making you scream louder in agony.
The rest of the days blurred. Hardly any food or water; just barely enough to keep you alive. Every time a wound scarred they re-opened it. Soap held your jaw open today as Ghost slowly ripped out your teeth. Your voice long gone from hours of shrieking before this. No fight left in you when their radio's crackled to life. "Soap, Ghost, hall. Now." Price spoke. His voice sounded uneasy.
When they left you tilted your head forward. Letting the blood from your removed teeth drip slowly from your lips. It was painful to breathe. Bruised, cracked, and maybe even broken ribs and a broken nose they kept targeting so it never healed. A broken hand and forearm from three harsh strikes of the hammer. Several deep gashes from some of the knives Ghost used on you. A dislocated kneecap from being bashed in by the metal bat.
You couldn’t hear what they talked about out in the hall. But you knew it was something shocking based on the dead silence that came after Price’s muffled voice. In all honesty, over these two months, you started thinking it was your fault this happened to you. Thinking it was your fault you were framed; you just made yourself too easy a target to frame as the traitor.
You heard rushing feet and the sound of vomiting in the trash can down the hall. You guessed Gaz since you heard Soap ask Price something, you heard Price’s gruff grunt and Ghost’s Manchester accent as he swore under his breath. Your eyes fluttered in exhaustion but snapped open on instinct as you heard the door open again. They’d caught the real traitor, a newer recruit who had everyone wrapped around her finger.
Price had entered the room.
“I didn’t do it…” You whispered hoarsely. Your captain nodded. “I know, Y/N… I know…” he whispered softly. You flinched as he unsheathed his knife from its holster, he moved slowly as he cut your hands and legs free. He tried to pick you up but you cried out. He carefully set you back down and radioed for a few medics. They arrived a short while later as Price kept you awake to be sure you couldn’t slip away before everyone could apologize at the very least.
The medics came soon enough and moved you carefully onto a gurney so as to avoid shattering any bones further. They moved you to the med bay as fast as possible to get your wounds tended to and disinfected. Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Price all sat outside of the med bay as they listened to your agonized shrieks and whales of pain from the medics setting your already healing knuckles back in place.
It took a few hours after your corrective knee surgery for the boys to be allowed to finally see you. The medics said you’d be out for a few days so your body could regain a small bit of strength. None of the team wanted to leave your side. They all had set themselves up so they could sleep by the cot the medics placed you on. In and out, they would individually go on missions or go in pairs so two of them could still keep their eyes on you incase you woke up.
A few days turned into a few weeks. And you finally woke up. But not as easily as the team would have wished. A cold sweat soaking your forehead as you groaned in agony in your sleep until you woke up shrieking and tried to curl into yourself for comfort, only causing yourself more pain. The boys had to pin you down so the medic could inject the pain killer.
Through the times you were awake, you refused to let any of them remotely try to touch you. They could see it. The distance you put between yourself and them. The distrust in your eyes. The anger and hurt in your furrowed brow. You had trusted them with your life. And now you were beginning to think you should have never let your guard down. Not for one damn second. But a small part of you thought it was somehow your own fault…
Gaz spent the most time with you. No touching, just trying to get you to talk. Even if in anger. He was slowly piecing your trust in him back together bit by bit. When physical therapy came around you asked him to help you because your knee hurt too much to do it alone and the medic seemed busy with another soldier. The rest of the team saw this, beginning to hope they had a chance at forgiveness as well. They weren’t aware that you never forgave Gaz. You just trusted him enough to count him as a person you will let help you. Not a friend. And not a teammate. Not anymore.
Soap was the second to earn the right to help you, then Price not too long after that. Ghost… was a different story. All he did was glare at you, as if he still thought you were the traitor. To which you returned the hostility. He hadn’t let it show, but he was devastated. He wished he’d have never believed that false evidence. He couldn’t even look at you because all he saw was his work etched into your body. That was why he glared. It wasn’t meant for you, it was directed at his work that scarred your body.
When you could walk on your own without crutches, you went to Price in the break room where everyone was. Expression cold and dead serious as you handed him resignation papers. He froze. “You can’t… we need you on this team Y/N—“ he started but you cut him off. “Need? Or want me here because you loathe yourselves so much you need me to reassure you that you’re forgiven with my presence?” He staggered back. “I never forgave any of you.” You added.
“There isn’t a day we’ve woken up without regretting—“ he tried again. “You don’t get to play that card! Do you know how many times I woke up crying in agony from wounds that are already healed because of you four!? Oh, or how about the fact I can’t stand to be touched by ANYONE anymore!” You snapped back. “Y/N…” Price started to beg. “No. I hate you. All of you. For what you did to me. Don’t even contact me. If you have something to tell me, keep it to yourselves.”
The team was silent. You walked to your barracks and packed. Booked a flight back to your hometown. And walked out the doors of the base. Giving none of them the time of day to apologize or try to fix things between you and them. You hadn’t even told them you neglected to sleep most nights out of fear someone would come out of the shadows and beat you half to death again…
#call of duty#cod#lieutenant simon ghost riley#sergeant johnny mactavish#sergeant kyle gaz garrick#captain johnathan price#wrong traitor#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#john price#cod price#cod ghost#soap cod#cod gaz#call of duty angst#cod angst#angst writing#angst#reader angst
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Keep Running, Little Bunny!
Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader
Masterlist
Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me
Summary: Logan takes you, but gives you a chance to escape... what isn't he telling you?
Warnings: NON CON DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Logan is a masochist and a bit of a sadist but def more into the pain. Feral!Logan, primal kink, THIS IS NON NON, READER AND LOGAN GET SLICED UP! I'm not listing everything here, just please read with caution! Physical and sexual violence! Somno!
Immersivity: Reader is fem, afab, able bodied
A/N: first time writing Logan!!! Im obssed with him after deadpool wolverine but the only other Wolverine movie ive seen was that really bad one in like japan or something lmfao. I do wanna watch them all now (Oscar Isaac is in apocalypse!) This may not be the most correct but I'm trying. Lemme know if you wan more Logan!
Divider by @xxbimbobunnyxx
Im late but I wanted to do the manspreading for the manspreading olympics by @toxicanonymity
"You're a hard girl to get a hold of, princess."
Logan is sitting across from the bed you've woken up in, in a chair with his legs spread wide. You can see the bulge in his pants from how he touched you, caressing your sleeping body as you slowly woke up from whatever you were given. His hands slid up your loose shorts, a single finger slipping in and out of your hole, making sure the first words you woke up to were, "Are you always this wet?" with his hot breath fluttering on your skin.
Slowly, the memories began to come to you: how you fought and kicked and screamed as Logan tried to drag you away, him shoving the chloroformed rag in your mouth until you passed out gagging...
Now here you were, watching him as he palmed his hardness in front of you.
"i thought X-men were good guys." You spit, arms crossed over your chest as you watch him touch himself.
He shrugs with a little smirk on the right side of his face. "I wouldn't call myself a good guy. Never have. Saving the world is one thing... but I think I'm owed a little something on the side."
You laugh at that, a bark of a laugh that signals the disbelief that he's actually speaking to you right now, saying such things. "I don't owe you shit!"
"Maybe not. Doesn't matter though, because I'm gonna let you go." Logan groans, stroking a long, hard drag down the line of his cock in his pants.
This makes you narrow your eyes, suspicious. "What do you mean?"
"I'm gonna let you go. Gonna let you make a run for it. Here." He tosses a knife to the bed, making you flinch but then you quickly grab it, eyeing him. He's still touching himself, but with an agonized sigh he lets go. You wonder if he was close... Logan stands up, opening the door to the small, one room cabin and letting you see the trees outside. "Half a mile west there's a road. Not used a whole lot but someone is bound to come by, pick you up. I'll give you a head start, and you can use that knife on me. You can kill me if you try hard enough. Little fighter like you, might even be able to get the slip on me."
You blink. This can't be real. "This is a trick, isn't it... you're gonna punish me for running, or, or for stabbing you..."
Logan shakes his head, gesturing out to where the sun was setting fast. "Nope, won't punish you for that. Just like a challenge, that's all."
"There's... there a catch, isn't there... something you aren't telling me."
For a moment his face is still, like he's trying to put on a poker face. Then, a smile breaks. "I've never been a good lair. yeah, there's something I'm not tell'n yuh, bub, but really, what choice do you have?"
As you rise from the bed, he stands back. You hold out the knife, and he keeps his hands up, palms towards you... his face was almost condescending... but what choice did you have. Once you back away several steps, you turn around and make a run for it. You weren't exactly sure his powers, but given his name was wolverine you were fairly certain speed was one of them.
"I'll count down from 100!" Logan calls after you, his voice starting to sound distant. "100... 99...98... keep running little bunny! 97... 96..." You faintly hear the 95 before you're out of earshot, running as fast as your legs can take you through the woods. Jumping over logs and stumbling down hills, you run more than you have since your high school made you do a mile, your out of shape body struggling to take in oxygen. Tree branches smacked your face, leaves wet with dew, the little sticks drawing blood on your cheek but you don't dare stop, not for a second.
Something zooms past you nearby, a rustling of bushes an the faint sound of '10' in your ear, before all goes still again. You're close, you have to be.
'5'
Shit, shit. You grip the knife in your fist as you try to pick up speed, tired legs carrying you as fast as they'll go but it's not enough.
Logan is in front of you, a broad smile on his face and hands gripping your shoulders to stop you. "One."
You scream, stabbing him in the rib cage expecting him to shout in pain but instead he moans in pleasure. No time to process this, you kick him in the dick and shove him over, making a run for it again, but Logan grabs your foot, causing you to fall face first into the dirt and grass. Strong arms yank you, despite crawling as nothing, and suddenly you are under him.
"No!" You try to get away, but he's too strong, too quick, pinning your hands down and he looms over you.
"Pretty little bunny... running so fast..." Logan cocks his head to the side. "Not quite fast enough, eh?" Leaning down, Logan licks a stripe up your cheek, tasting the blood on your face. "Tasty little bunny..."
Your hand with the knife continues to be pinned down, Logan bracing his entire weight on your wrist while he undoes his pants, freeing his cock from the restraints. The throbbing member lay heavy against your thigh, a size you can only guess from the feeling and for a moment you think he's going to take off your shorts the same way. Then, Logan placed his knuckles at the base of your shorts and suddenly there's a stinging, sharp pain running up your leg and to your waist.
"Fuck!!!" No one is around to hear you screaming, no one except Logan who thrust his fist out, tearing your shorts and underwear to literal shreds.
When cock is thrust into you, you can't even scream anymore as the sounds get lodged into your throat, trapped in there just as you are now, his body caging you.
"Fuck'n tight there, princess. Is that fear, or is that all you?" You respond with a slap to his face which only makes him fuck you harder. "Aha, I think that's all you, baby doll, you were soaking my fingers earlier. Creamy little pussy ready to squirt on a strangers hands."
"FUCK YOU!"
"You want me dead?"
"Yes!"
He releases your sore hand, but the knife still lays next to it. "Take your shot, why dontcha?"
Thinking fast, you grab the handle again and with a scream, you plunge it into his neck.
To your surprise he just grins broadly. What the fuck is wrong with him.
Again, again, again, you stab the knife into different parts of his body as he stabs between your legs, fucking with more more intensity, with loud moans, closer and closer to his release. His gruff pants in your ear mirror your screams, listening to Logan moan and groan and whimper as he ravages your helpless body when you realize... he likes it. He likes it and the wounds are healing as fast as you can cut him.
"Pretty bunny..." He chuckles lowly, his hand gripping your sides so hard it feels like a pinch, your fragile non-mutant body nothing but a plaything for him. With a loud growl, Logan cums inside you, filling you up as he continues to fuck him cum inside you, streams of hot cum flooding inside you. How was he still hard? Movements begin to slow, but your exhaustion begins to take it's toll on you, giving up harming him and simply taking it. "That's it... that's my good girl. Give in to me, little bunny. Let me have you... I can make it so good." Logan thrusts up into you, hitting something so devastating and deep no one has before, his rough hand sliding to your center to caress your bud.
"I don't want it to be good..." You cry weakly, even as pleasure builds down in you.
"Sure yuh do... c'mon, pretty girl you can give it to me... don't fight it, it's useless. You're mine now, my bunny... cum for me..." Logan's demeanor changes, suddenly indulgent and begging, his facial hair tickling your skin as he nuzzles your neck. "Wanna feel it... Wanna feel my sweet bunny coming on my cock... becoming mine..." You can't fight it anymore, the thick stretch on him, his skilled hands, the sleepiness clouding your rational... and he feels it too. "There we go... that's my girl, all mine, huh? You're mine now my pet... yeah... all mine..." It was painfully delicious, the way he made you feel, how his hands seemed to know you so intimately...
Then that chloroformed clothe was on your mouth again, his cock still buried hard inside you. You didn't fight this time, letting the release of sleep take you.
Slowly, Logan began to grind his hips into your body again, his hands claw extending again as they slipped under your shirt. No cuts this time, only a few nicks before he shredded your shirt now, leaving you in tattered clothes as he felt you up. Logan's mouth was at your ear. "Can't have you fighting me this time, little bunny. I'm gonna get to know this sweet body, I'm gonna lean everything it likes..." He cups your breasts, tweaking at a bare nipple. "Gonna take good care of you."
As you fall asleep, you can hear a car driving nearby.
THANK YOU!!!!!
I am so excited to try out a new character!!!!!!
Unfortunetly, after I made the go fund me listed above my car's fucking starter went bad ;-; that'll be like $800. I'm struggling to get by. Please please pease consider making a donation or donating o my ko-fi or biy me a coffee all linked above!. If not, thats totally okay! Theres no presure.
If you are inclinded, please consider reblogging this post with my go fund me.
Likes, comments and reblogs are sooooo appriciated!!!
I knew I'm new to logan but if you like OScar Isaac or Pedro PAscal characters, consider checking out my other work!! thanks!!!
Tagging those who expressed interest or who i thought might like?
No presure if its not your thing! Comment if you want more dark logan!
@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @reveric @wolverineswaifu @birbita @multiversed-daydreamer
love yuh!
#dark logan howlett#dark!fic#non con#logan howlett x reader#hugh jackman#wolverine#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#logan x reader#x men#logan howlett smut#james logan howlett#dark logan#dark wolverine#smut#hugh jackman logan#manspreading olympics
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NOT MY ASTARION BRAIN ROT CONTINUING CUS LIKE i just got the scene where he literally says he misses seeing his face and that like he wishes he knew what he looked like and i??? WANTED SO BADLY FOR IT TO BE AN OPTION TO DRAW HIM
LIKE IMAGINE STARING AT HIM ACROSS THE BONFIRE, watching the way the light dances across his pale skin. youve been through hard times and one of the things you've learned to get through it was to draw
at first, you loathed the fact that you had to paint rich people for mere couple pieces of gold when you knew your art was worth more than that. you loathed even more that they'd upturn their posh noses at you and scoff when, truly, they knew what a treasure your art was.
now, seeing astarion, the way his white hair seemed to almost form a halo around his head, reflecting the moonbeams that graced his body, watching as he crossed his legs and meditated; you knew that you didn't regret a single second of the trials and tribulations that led you to this point.
you could finally put this agonizing skill to use. you could draw him.
and so you scrounged up some paper, an ink well, a quill; all things you'd pocketed during your adventures with the rather willful vampire.
you sat there, nib of the quill scratching against the parchment.
your art was nothing compared to the paintings you'd done before; these were mere lines and ink blots. you wished you could truly show him how beautiful he was through water color or pastels. instead, trapped in a land you barely knew, all you could do for him was this.
he had his eyes closed, of course, so you drew them from memory. strikingly red, like rubies, like blood. you didn't forget his crow's feet; you loved the way they wrinkled when he laughed. you shaped his lips, soft but rough from years of bite and chew, and formed it into his infamous mischievous grin.
his hair always seemed unruly but, drawing it now, it felt like drawing gorgeous chaos; there was an order to it, the way the bangs fell across his forehead, the way the sides feathered in front of his ears and curled behind them.
when you stopped, you realised you'd drawn him over and over, across several pieces of parchment.
the way he frowned and his fangs would glance across his lips. the way he'd look confused and his eyebrows would furrow. the way he'd look longingly at the stars, mind distant and eyes almost empty, like he'd made so many wishes that were never granted by the cosmos.
you never liked tooting your own horn but you felt like you truly captured him.
so, you took your pieces of paper, all drawings of him, dozens of them, small and sketchy; you took it all and you sat beside him and spread them out in front of you.
it took him a second to realise you were there. he'd been letting his guard down recently, especially when you were on watch duty, and it took you laying your head across his shoulder for his eyes to flutter open.
he opened his mouth, like there had almost been a retort slipping off his tongue, but the sight of your drawings stopped him.
he let out a ragged breath, eyes flickering across all of them. his clawed hands hovered in the air, trembling, as if taking a hold of the drawings would make them crumble under his touch.
and perhaps, in his head, he really believed they would.
'darling,' he'd call you, his voice wet with unshed tears 'what's all of this?'
of course he'd still joke. it was how he coped with things. he joked to hide how he truly felt and, of course, you were always there to understand.
'it's you,' you answered a matter-of-factly, as if you hadn't just turned this vampires world upside down 'its you the way i see you.'
and that's what makes him crack. because maybe, since you were the one that drew all of it, you hadn't noticed. but he noticed.
he noticed all the love and devotion you spilled across the page. every single detail, every single stroke, it was all from love.
and as someone who had never been on the receiving end of it, astarion cracked and he hid his face into your neck and he cried.
they were soft sobs, almost unnoticeable. but he cried nonetheless.
he cried for his past that he'd lost under his sadistic master, he cried for his difficult present that seemed impossible to escape, and he cried for this hopeful future you seemed to lay out in front of him.
he cried because he didn't realise that he had this much hope left inside of him. because he didn't know what else to do in the face of your devotion.
you just sat there, humming and rubbing his back, ignoring the way his arm wrapped around your waist, claws digging into your skin as if you'd disappear in front of him if he didn't hold on to you as tightly as possible.
#astarion bg3#astarion#astarion x reader#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 spoilers#my sweet vampire baby#hes just a big pathetic meow meow
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