#the night shift drabble

[gunwoo-bh]

The Night Shift Drabble - When They Met [Yoongi POV]

WHEN THEY MET [the night shift] YOONGI POV

word count: 1.5k

warnings: cuteness, fluff fluff, swearing, yoongi having a major crush, yoongi admiring reader from afar

He hears your laugh before he even sees you. 

When he sets his eyes on you, he realizes how he’s never seen you around until now as you shush two girls standing in front of you. He’s just outside of the turnstiles leading into the library when he hears your laughter and he’s willing to bet that anyone who knows you would recognize it no matter how much time passed. You have that kind of laughter. 

Memorable. 

He gulps as he stands there, awkwardly waiting for his friend to come down from the quiet area of the library. His eyes flit around and everywhere, trying not to obviously ogle you from across the way. 

You were smiling up at who he assumes are your friends. Them? He’s seen them around campus, usually headed off to some club or party. Jungkook had often mentioned seeing one of them often. 

Your attention was glued to them as they spoke a mile an hour, your eyes going left to right while paying special attention to both. The tiniest smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he watches you smack their arms to quiet them. 

Yoongi wasn’t a library guy. In fact, he avoided it because the environment was everything but conducive to studying in his mind. 

He’s shaken out of his thoughts when a hand waves in front of his face, startling him as he jumps. 

“Oh, what the fuck!” 

Namjoon laughs, watching Yoongi stumble a few steps back, “Dude, you okay?”

He rubs his chest and sighs loudly, “Did you have to?!”

Namjoon chuckles, “You were so out of it, you didn’t even see me. Of course I had to.”

Yoongi sighs, swearing under his breath as he takes one more glance at you before grabbing his friend’s sleeve and tugging him along, “Come on, let’s go…”

“What’s the hurry? Seriously, we’re just going drinking…what the heck!” Namjoon laughs as he’s dragged away by his friend. 

A few days have gone by since he’s first seen you and Yoongi would be mildly embarrassed to admit that he’s put the library in the middle of his route more and more every day, and did you have anything to do with that decision? If asked, no. Otherwise, yes. Absolutely. 

He hadn’t noticed a girl in a long time, not like this, but he found himself attracted to your effortless presence and kindness. 

He had snuck his way into the library a handful of times now, seeing you do your rounds and helping some students but he always hid in the corners of the library he knew you barely went to. Every single time he felt like he had enough courage to come talk to you, that confidence would dissipate and he would walk away. 

He hadn’t told any of his friends about this growing crush on you and he knew he had to keep this to himself otherwise he would never hear the end of it, fearing some of them would end up trying to intervene. 

He needed to figure this out for himself. 

Yoongi’s head snaps up when the sudden noise of a door opens, slamming against the wall as an ocean of students begin exiting a classroom. He sits up straighter, leg shaking as he waits to see Namjoon. Yoongi has been waiting for a while, his class ending earlier than he had anticipated. 

But as he looks at student after student, he doesn’t expect his breath to catch in his throat when he sees you leaving class as you animatedly speak to a classmate. He remains glued to you, eyes following your every move as you slow down near some benches to hold a conversation. He stares shamelessly, watching as you slip on your winter coat to brave the snowy conditions outside as you giggle at something your classmate says. 

Fuck, you’re pretty.

Yoongi shifts uncomfortably, the feelings bubbling in his stomach making him feel like he needs to walk away because how can someone feel this way about someone they’ve never met. 

Thankfully, Namjoon finally appears, Yoongi leaping to his feet right away as he swings his bag over his shoulder. He meets his friend halfway as he nods at him.

“Hey, you good to go?” 

Namjoon frowns, a slight grin on his face, “Jeez, hi to you too…”

Yoongi apologizes as both boys jump when a loud thump echoes through the hall. As they both look to see what happened, Yoongi is struck by the image in front of him. 

A poor student, a girl, has fallen down face first with the contents of her tote bag spread across the floor. And as most people simply stand around, he notices that from the moment he hears her fall to the moment he turns around he sees you kneeling next to her. 

You are holding the back of her head, making sure she is okay as the student hides her embarrassment behind her hand while nodding. You comfortingly rub her back up and down, smiling broadly but your eyebrows hold concern as you look her over. And even from where he stands he can hear you.

“Yah…it’s okay, it happens to all of us. As long as you’re okay, mhm?” 

You carefully help her sit, always making sure she’s okay as you begin crawling to gather all the items that have exploded out of her bag. The student timidly protests but you assure her you’re fine. All with a smile on your face. 

“Does this look like everything?” You ask her, showing her the contents as you neatly place them back in her bag. 

Yoongi doesn’t realize how long he’s just been standing there staring at you and he’s certain Namjoon has noticed. How could he not? You begin helping her up, still checking on her and patting her back gently, even hugging her as you laugh softly.

Namjoon nudges him and says, “Is this…why you’ve been spending time at the library?” 

When he turns to his head to look at him, Namjoon is grinning proudly and Yoongi sighs, grabbing his friend’s arm as he tugs roughly, “Don’t! Don’t. Let’s go.” 

“Wait, wait, wait…” Namjoon holds him back, “I was joking, but…is she really why you’ve been going?”

Yoongi opens his mouth, unsure of what to say as he stares at his friend. He feels the heat in his cheeks, blinking softly and shifting awkwardly on his feet. 

“Well…”

“Namjoon Oppa!” He hears your voice and freezes as he looks down to his feet when he turns to face your direction. He chances the smallest glance at you and you are striding right over to them, eyes focused on Namjoon but he sees you spare a small one to him. 

Namjoon calls your name right back, “What’s going on?” 

“I asked the Professor for the prep document for the next exam but he told me to ask a classmate. Could I give you my email for you to send it to me?” You’re standing right in front of them, your hair disheveled but cutely so. 

“Yeah, here…” His friend takes his phone out and Yoongi really takes that moment to take you in but he ends up startled, blushing what he hopes isn’t scarlet red when you look at him for a few seconds and shyly smile.

And all Yoongi can do is blush harder, and bow before taking his phone out as he buries himself in whatever is on social media. Great, be anti-social. 

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. I’ll see you next class, mhm?”

“No worries, my pleasure. Be careful out in the snow now!” Namjoon warns as you giggle, the sound making his chest feel tight. 

And as you walk away, Yoongi finally looks up as you walk away and both guys just stand there in silence for a few seconds. Or at least he thinks it’s just seconds. Yoongi truly has no idea because he stares after you until you’re out of sight, releasing a breath he’s been holding this entire time. 

“What’s her name?”

Namjoon doesn’t tease or question Yoongi when he asks, he simply chuckles as he comes to stand closer to his friend and he tells him your name. Yoongi tries it, whispering it over and over as he looks to his best friend. 

“Thank you.”

Namjoon shrugs, both of them walking out of the building and the only thing on Yoongi’s mind at that moment as he leaves that moment behind him is how he will take that whispered name and say it out loud. 

Yoongi isn’t one for love at first sight, but he knows that somewhere deep within him, you’re meant to meet and he decides then that he will make sure this happens. 

Yoongi doesn’t often have a crush or feel like this, but instead of cowering away from the feeling and hiding away?

Yoongi chooses to be bold and brave.

A/N: Hi everyone! I've returned from my little writing break to give you a little something, their first unofficial meeting!! I hope you enjoy it! I obviously will have more to come from these two but I will say that I am diligently working on a new idea and multi-chapter story that I am really excited about. Coming soon! :D

tag list: @muchwita @kam9404 @ot72025 @lalazilz @janeelizabeth1216 @rinkud @yngisstuff @lolpanda94 @angelicbunnee @wubbz05 @illicitelle @legendarydreamqueen @flyxfall @mintmango-min @moorepls @gojomyoneandonly @yoongiiuu93 @wobblewobble822 @michaela0901 @ariakamil @watchingover-hypegirl @lovesvt17 @misschelliejeon @niieceyy @this-most-assuredly-counts @ronaa33 @yoonminv @meghanacloud @petroogorodnik @existentialzaddy @illnevertrustmyselfagain

Post separator credit to @hyuneskkami

[mymegrokosmos]

jeonghan and wonwoo work the night shift - a series of one shots about vampire detective duo wonhan in the big city.

part 1 - warning this is just for my own entertainment mostly. teaser. crack and fluff. I'll write something substantial later.

it was quiet when jeonghan swept into the office, ten minutes late as always, and sidestepped the long leg wonwoo stretched out into the walkway between their two desks with ease.

"you're still too slow."

his partner snorted, blinking up from the pile of paperwork he had previously been immersed in. "it's like you want me to make you fall flat on your face hyung."

jeonghan rolled his eyes, dropping into his chair right behind the taller man. "what i'd like is for you to take this seriously."

wonwoo leaned back in his office chair, turning to face the smaller man. he stretched and rolled closer until their knees touched, leaning forward to meet jeonghan's eye level. he steeped his fingers.

"let me get this right, you want me to kick your ass on the clock?"

"frankly i'd take off the clock. at this rate you're never going to win any of those sparring matches against seungkwan and it's starting to get a little sad. there's only so much losing a man can stand to see. it's been ten years. please stop letting literally everyone, up to and including hoshi, sweep the floor with you."

wonwoo shrugged. "soonyoung enjoys it."

"soonyoung enjoys the thrill and you enjoy the routine of him getting off your back after he wins."

"can you finish that field report while you lecture me? we have about fifteen more to go before coups hyung takes over for the morning shift and you know how he feels about paperwork."

"i'm not the one seungcheol will hang out to dry if he's stuck behind his desk tomorrow."

wonwoo rolled his eyes and scooted back to his desk. "it's like you think they won't stick you with the newbie if you keep letting me take the fall for your lack of drive and complete disregard for timelines."

"who's the newbie again?"

"kim mingyu."

"pass me the stupid field report. where do you need me to sign?"

"sign here, initial there and write a short observation below the line. i've drafted one on your notepad, just paraphrase so it sounds like you're not copy pasting my homework."

"whoever invented paperwork is on my list."

"mm, dokyeom finally made it off the list? nice. he'll be happy to hear that he's only public enemy number two this week."

"he'll be downright thrilled then. he's been demoted to public enemy number three."

"what did shua hyung do now?"

"ask me again when i finish this paperwork."

[katsmultiverse]

im so obsessed with the song 2 hands by Tate McRae

its so addictive holy shart

and it’s so me with my dr s/os coded

like yes please keep your hands on me. i dont want the hug to end- PLEASE KEEP YOUR HANDS ON MEEEEE

[nocentis]

Possession & Indoctrination

╳┆Possession Link is a magic somewhat similar to Sensory Link. It is a dark magic often used to manipulate and control its target. Unlike Sensory Link, the spell only affects one person at a time—the receiver. It can isolate and strengthen a specific group of emotions of the user's choice. It can also be used pseudo-telepathically, disguising the user's voice and allowing them to be heard only by the receiver.

The link feeds off of its host's magic energy, meaning the user does not need to constantly expend magic to sustain the link.

╳┆Initially, Ultear’s Possession Link amplified Jellal’s preexisting emotions of hatred, anger, and helplessness. This influx of raw emotion allowed him to access his magic energy for the first time. At the same time, he began to hear the “Ghost of Zeref” promising him true freedom in the form of Heaven.

Jellal opened himself up to the Possession Link, which strengthened its initial effects. Hatred manifest coupled with a magic that severely lowered any remaining inhibitions resulted in a radical shift in both personality and morality. From there, Jellal carried out what he believed to be Zeref’s will by sending Erza away, trapping & manipulating the others, and spending the next eight years completing the R-System.

The Possession Link remained mostly dormant after its initial conception, only serving to stoke those same feelings of resentment and obsession that would keep him focused on the tower’s construction. If ever his mind should stray, if ever he should doubt his “divine mission”, the voice of “Zeref” would whisper to him again, coaching him to continue and promising that Heaven awaited himself and his “friends”. The link served as a tool to keep him focused & reinforce indoctrination, but it did not have omnipotent control over his actions.

When Wendy pulled Jellal from his comatose state, the Possession Link was severed. Those emotions that completely engrossed him for so long were still present, but they weren’t anywhere near as intense. They were manageable.

[warlockisaslur]

100 ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇ ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢᴇ ✧ 𝔬𝔫𝔢 ~ 𝔟𝔢𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰

You are sixteen-ish, and nothing makes any sense anymore. Your life was normal enough -- privileged, even, all things considered -- and that normalcy was something you took for granted. Yet as you navigated the life of the Typical American Teenager, you began to take a tally of the oddities of your life, and it added up fast. Of course you'd been the target of adolescent teasing most of your life. You're bookish, you're childish (who still likes superheroes?), and it doesn't take long for your peers to figure out that it isn't the girls your eyes are following across campus...

You keep your head down. Try not to make waves. After all, if you don't present too big of a target, maybe you'll get through a day without too much difficulty...

The graffiti you can tolerate, for the most part. It's not like it's not true...

and then he smiles. And you know... everything is changing.

~✧~

You're standing at your bedroom window, looking up at a light growing fainter in the distance. You are still grounded, still on probation because that boy nearly died, the school is spinning it as a freak accident with the overhead lights and that's what your parents think happened... but the kids who were there know you did something. You were only doing what was right -- that kid was half your size, Kessler never would have gone after him if he didn't know you were done taking his shit.

Except... tonight something hit your window, and when you went to look, it wasn't a certain blond trying to cheer you up, it was a kid in a suit of armor...

~✧~

You had your first... date? Can you call it a date if you're meeting in the ruins of a superhero stronghold to talk about your problems? It ended in a kiss, so you suppose you could call it a date. And you feel it -- that same feeling as when you saw him smile at you for the first time, the same feeling as when that kid in armor showed up at your window...

everything is changing. And if you're honest with yourself... that's not the worst thing.

[cxpperhead]

His scales are hot to the touch despite the fact it's currently raining, droplets of water sliding right off his glossy form. It's practically torrential at this point, the rain of a dying summer lashing his body as he ascends but Copperhead perseveres in spite of the thunderstorm, predatory eyes focused on the uppermost window of the high-rise building he's climbing. The wind picks up suddenly, dousing the walls with a fresh spray of rainwater but the snake-man's hold is secure, scaled pads gripping worn brickwork and motor with the raw efficiency of a killing machine. Copperhead is on the hunt and nothing will stop him from achieving his grisly task. Still, it's hard to concentrate when all he can feel is the white-hot pulse of hunger roaring through his veins. It's not the kind that can be satiated with food either, no matter how delicious the spread is. He could eat and eat until he was full to bursting and still feel sick to his stomach with this craving, this insatiable urge to kill. He's been through this before, more times than he cares to remember and Copperhead knows the only way to end this desire is to indulge it. His pulse quickens again, excitement flooding his body as he grows close to his destination. The window is open, perhaps belonging to that of a small bathroom but Copperhead knows he can fit through the tiny opening. Gratitude quells his bloodlust momentarily, both towards his target for making tonight's work easier and the storm for concealing his arrival. Quick as a whip, Copperhead angles his body, ribs flattening as he pushes his head through the opening. A small child would struggle to get out of a window this narrow but he can manage it, scaled body seamlessly weaving through. Already he is dry; the rain has sluiced right off his scales, leaving no spills as his shoulders slip through the gap with the rest of his body following after. He's inside now, tongue flickering as he tastes the air. Copperhead can see his surroundings perfectly despite the lack of light, the only source being the occasional flash of lightning from outside and a charger on the wall powering up the occupant's electric toothbrush. Recently it was used, the stench of mint and cologne hanging in the air. He almost smiles; his target must be enjoying a very lovely evening out to clean themselves so thoroughly, work clothes still littering the floor in their haste to leave. So untidy. Ignoring the abandoned clothes, Copperhead creeps through the rooms. There are no pets, no cats to worry about or any other creature. It's just him and the clock on the wall. Ten to midnight. Tongue flickers again as he surveys the area; the way a person lived told a lot about them and what he could see told him this person was very messy, leaving a half-finished container of chinese takeaway on the kitchen counter for the roaches to nibble - sweet and sour pork with special fried rice and a side of chow mein. Copperhead yawned, not from tiredness at this late hour but to ready his fangs for when his gracious host would return. Part of him regretted that he had to do this, to utterly spoil what must had been a nice day for Mr. Bell but his employer had been adamant that the man had done him great wrong and wanted him out of the picture, permanently. Unblinking eyes dart back to the clock. Eight to midnight. Copperhead hummed, moving on from the kitchen in search of a more appropriate hiding place just in case Mr. Bell returned with a friend should his date prove fruitful. Claws suddenly arch, almost tearing a hole in the sofa as the snake-man searches for a suitable spot in which to wait. That famililar pulse surges through his veins again, scales burning white-hot once more as he imagines how good it will feel to rend flesh as soon as his target is within arm's reach, to plunge his fangs into Mr. Bell's neck and hear him scream as deadly venom flooded his bloodstream... Copperhead swallows, feeling as though he were starving despite having eaten not so very long ago. He needed to kill again, and very soon.

[alygator77]

──on the move

a/n. in honor of father's day, i wrote a short drabble for our favorite daddy fictional husband. here's some good 'ol dadjo fluff 🩵 this was a request, but it's also inspired by a scene from the romcom life as we know it.

cw. your daughter's first steps. humor. domestic fluff. dad! satoru. husband! satoru. also, satoru is just too stinkin' cute (isn't he always though?!).

Neither you nor Satoru were prepared for the day your daughter decided to walk.

She’d been going through another sleep regression—clingy, overtired, and endlessly fussy. The last few nights had been brutal for you both; nonstop crying, sleepless nights—hell, you barely remembered the last time you’d eaten something warm or sat down for more than five minutes without a tiny hand tugging at your shirt.

So today, when she finally settles, babbling to herself instead of wailing, Satoru doesn’t hesitate.

“You go clean up,” he says, already hoisting her up into his arms. “I got this.”

And you don’t argue. Because a hot shower and ten minutes to breathe feels like the most luxurious gift in the world.

Downstairs, Satoru sits leisurely, sinking onto the living room floor, one of your daughter’s stuffed toys shoved behind his back like a makeshift pillow. She sits a few feet in front of him, chewing thoughtfully on a rubber block like she’s solving some ancient puzzle.

As she babbles cheerfully, he nods along, blue eyes soft beneath the fall of snowy hair. One hand props up his chin as he listens intently, like he’s getting a full debriefing from a tiny general.

“I know, right?” he murmurs. “They really said no dessert before dinner. Criminal, honestly.”

An insistent string of nonsense syllables spills from her tiny lips, animated and loud, flapping one hand as to make a point.

“Exactly,” he hums, nodding solemnly. “It’s injustice. You and me—we should unionize.”

Then, without warning, she shifts—pushing herself up with both hands, wobbling slightly as she reaches for the coffee table. One tiny palm finds the edge. Then, slowly… she lets go.

Satoru blinks.

Standing. She’s standing. No hands. No support. Just two steady little feet on the rug.

All by herself.

“…no way,” he breathes, straightening instinctively. “Hey, uh—princess?” clearing his throat, his voice catches slightly. “Uhh… whatcha doin’, huh?”

And then she moves—one step. Wobbly. Uncertain.

Satoru's mouth falls open.

“No, no, no—wait—shit—uhhh… babe?!” his voice pitches as he springs to his feet, torn between staying and bolting for the stairs. “Hold on sweetheart—wait for mommy, wait—!”

Twisting towards the ascending hall, his voice booms.

“Babe! She’s walking!!”

Upstairs, the shower pounds steadily as you scrub shampoo from your hair. A voice echoes up the stairway. With a pause, you tilt your head slightly.

…is Satoru calling you?

“Huh?” you shout back, reaching for the knobs. “What was that ’toru?”

His voice echoes again—louder this time, unmistakable.

“SHE’S WALKING!”

“What?!” heart lurching, you move, fumbling out of the shower, slipping slightly on the mat as you grab for the nearest towel and yank it around your body. “Shit—okay—hang on—!”

But downstairs, equal chaos unfolds.

Your daughter takes another step, and Satoru's still at the bottom of the stairs, caught somewhere between panic and awe. He doesn’t want to move—can’t risk missing it. Can’t let you miss it.

“Okay—just—freeze,” he says, crouching slightly in front of her. “Hold it right there, little lady. Stay. Don’t advance. Mommy’s coming.”

But babbling back in defiance, her little eyes brighten with determination as she takes another wobbly step forward.

“Shit—fuck. Honey, I need you to hurry!” he shouts toward the stairs, voice cracking.

“Coming! I’m coming!” you call back breathlessly, hopping down the hall with one towel clutched around your chest and another half-heartedly blotting your dripping hair. “Just—stall her! I’ll be right there!”’

“Stall her?!” he echoes, eyes wide as she continues toward him, arms extended, smile wide—like he’s the finish line and she’s already won. “How the hell do I stall a baby?!”

Another leg plants itself on the rug, and Satoru scans the room in panic. No bottle. No snacks. No plan. No goddamn time.

“Okay—um, hey—look at me,” he says, dropping to his knees in her path. “Let’s do… let’s do clapping, yeah? You love clapping!”

And there he is, clapping with exaggerated enthusiasm, a desperate smile plastered on his face. But she doesn’t slow down. If anything, she picks up speed—giggling now, like this is all a game.

“Shit. Nonono. You are not following protocol…” he mutters, backing up a step. She’s almost at him. “Please princess… please… wait for mommy.”

He’s at a loss, and so, with nothing else to do, he reaches out—gentle, barely a touch—tapping her belly with two fingertips. But it’s just enough, because with little balance, she blinks—wobbling, plopping her butt onto the floor with a soft thud.

There’s a pause.

Then, in a matter of seconds, her face crumples, lip trembling as a tiny, heartbroken whine spills out of her.

Satoru's eyes widen in horror. “Aw, no—no, no, hey, it was just a loving little stall,” he says quickly, hands out. “A nudge. A tactical nudge. Fuck, don’t cry—”

And you’re bursting into the room just as the first real wail escapes her lips.

“What happened?!” you gasp, chest heaving, towel clinging to your damp skin as you rush over.

Looking up, Satoru's face is wide-eyed, painted with guilt.

“You… you said stall her,” he says helplessly. “So I… I gave her a little push.”

You blink. First at him. Then at her. Then back at him.

She’s hiccupping through a sob, hands balled up against her chest like she’s been personally wronged. Yet somehow, his face is more pitiful than hers.

“She was walking,” he adds weakly, looking down. “I… didn’t want you to miss it.”

Exhaling slowly, the panic bleeds out of you now, replaced by something warm and humorous—the edge of a smile tugging at your lips.

“Oh, ‘toru…”

He peeks up, sheepish. “I panicked.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, stepping closer, “I gathered.”

And sinking to your knees, you gather her into your arms. The second she’s pressed against you, the sobs dissolve into sniffles, cheek nuzzling into your collarbone like nothing ever happened.

“There we go,” you whisper, brushing your hand over her hair. “See? All better. She forgives you.”

“…you sure?” he looks doubtful. “Because she looked at me like I betrayed her entire damn bloodline.”

“Oh, shush.” Huffing a quiet laugh, you roll your eyes playfully, gently lowering her onto the rug in a seating position—pacified, for now.

Stepping closer, Satoru's gaze flicks between you and her.

“Five steps,” he says quietly, sliding his arms around your waist. “She took five real steps.”

“That’s incredible,” you whisper, arms looping around his neck. A slow smirk stretches across your lips. “Next time maybe just… record it, yeah?”

“Tch…” he huffs. “Right…”

And leaning in, his smile meets yours halfway—lips touching where laughter wants to begin. You kiss him, eyes fluttering, a hum rumbling through him.

But then—

pat-pat-pat.

Freezing, you pull away from that unmistakable sound. And turning, you’re left with the sight of your daughter tearing off down the hall with a delighted squeal, her bare feet smacking against the hardwood like she’s been walking her whole damn life.

“Oh.” Satoru's already straightening. “Oh shit.”

“Ohmygod…” you breathe in awe. “’toru… she’s walking!!”

“No,” he says grimly. “She’s running.”

And just like that—it begins.

Yeah. You’re never going to sit down again.

[madamechrissy]

Do I wanna know?

Pairings: Yandere Gojo x Fem reader

Summary: Satoru Gojo knows as soon as he sees you, he'll do anything to have you, but first? He needs you to need him. Ignoring his friendly offer to let you stay with him to save up for a better place, you soon find yourself kicked out by your landlord, and moving in with Satoru. Every thing seems like it's bringing you to need Satoru more and more... yet he doesn't make a move on you, and soon you start putting things together... is Satoru a stalker?? 9k word count

CW - There are SO MANY lol here we go- gaslighting, manipulation, possessive behavior, stalking, Satoru is so Yandere, teasing and tension, explicit sex, rough sex, face smacking, choking, breed kink, videoing without consent, oral sex (both receiving) trying to baby trap mentions of cum, dirty talk (he calls you a slut a lott lol) and misogyny. SATORU BEING PSYCHO but sexy. It's toxic- Based on this drabble

Comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this one! Thank you for 4k followers omg!!!

You’re not sure how you came to be so close to Satoru Gojo so quickly.

It was as if everywhere you were, he popped up in some way, at first you all met at your work, you were a bartender for a pretty elite club, and Satoru came in along with a few of his CEO friends for drinks once. He had tipped you insanely well, this gorgeous man with shocking white hair, and the most intense blue eyes you’ve seen, you couldn’t even describe the color they were.

Satoru Gojo was rich, handsome, friendly, funny, you couldn’t understand why he even asked for your number. You’re a beautiful girl, but he seemed like the kind of man that had women come to him, but not just that, he’s humble and sweet. He messaged you that night even, hoping you got home safe after your shift, and then asking if you’d like to hang out.

When you pictured hanging out, you honestly pictured maybe a date, or something intimate, but it was just coffee the first time, and he asked real questions about you. The next time you all went to a concert he had tickets for, and you had invited him into your apartment when he’d dropped you off, offering a drink to him.

That’s when Satoru saw your shitty little apartment.

He scoffed, walking around while you went to grab two beers, earning a view of your ass that had him shifting himself in his pants, but he was so upset then, he knew where you lived from the outside, he’d watched you plenty, but this? It’s a teeny one bedroom nothing, surely he could treat you much better than that, you deserved a penthouse, his penthouse.

He’d been watching you since that night weeks ago, he could not get his eyes off you, you took his breath away when his eyes had shifted up your body in that slutty bartending outfit. God he can’t wait until you’re not allowed to wear that anywhere, until you’re all his, and oh he knows you want him, he sees the desire in your dilated eyes, how your lips part when you look at him.

But not just yet.

Satoru can’t just fuck you, no you need to be his and you need to stay his, never, ever leaving him, and to do that he needs you begging for him. He needs there to be no other ideas in that pretty head of yours, so he decides to be your ‘friend’. Even when you step a little closer, lowering your lashes, eyes drinking him in when you take a sip from your bottle.

Beer? You should have top shelf champagne.

Satoru can do that for you.

“Thank you so much for tonight, Satoru.” You say softly, a hand trailing up his chest then, he tilts his head, blue eyes assessing you hungrily.

“Why live here?”

You blink now. “Well, it’s cheap and safe?”

“Don’t you make good money?”

“Um… yeah but I have student loans out the ass for my failed creative writing degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh, earning his chuckle.

“Failed? Didn’t pass?”

“No, I did but it’s useless I guess now. I should’ve gone into medical and been a little smarter, but I didn’t listen.”

“Is it your passion?” You nod then, with a little smile.

Satoru can make it happen, surely.

“You could always stay with me.” You cough then, you all barely know each other. “I have a huge place, I wouldn’t mind.”

“I could never impose like that. Don’t feel so sorry, Satoru, I swear I’m good here.” You lean in now, Satoru leans down, big hand caressing your face, tilting your chin up, his look so intense you can’t breathe. Breaths come in quick pants as your gaze hits his plush, glossy lips, imagining them everywhere.

“It’s an open offer, if anything happens. I’ll be…” He smirks a bit, leaning even closer, so close you taste the sweetness of his cool breath. “All gentlemanly and everything.”

“Would you be?” He chuckles now, lips just an inch from yours, your chest is rising and falling, heart thudding at just what his touch does. “What if I don’t want you to be one right now?”

“What’re you asking, sweets?”

“I…” The phone rings now, you clear your throat, realizing you were about to beg this almost stranger to fuck you.

What’s wrong with you!?

“I am sorry, let me see who it is.” Satoru smiles good naturedly, but you don’t see the glare from behind you, as he scowls at the phone, seeing another man’s name. You text him that you’re busy quickly, earning a little relief for him.

“Boyfriend?” You whirl around now, eyes narrowing a bit.

“No, um… ex boyfriend. We were together for years though, even in college, so we keep in touch sometimes.”

Satoru’s jaw sets, and something… changes then, confusing you a bit, as he sets his drink down. “Who broke up with who?”

“Um, he did.” Your cheeks heat up now under his scrutiny. “I’m sure you don’t wanna talk about my ex though.”

Oh, he does.

He wants your attention all on him, and not a bit of that should be for your ex, who didn’t even want you!? How could anyone not want you? Your gorgeous face that fucks his dreams up, your perfect body like you’re built just for him, how sweet you are, and those damn eyes of yours. He can’t wait to see them fucked out, to see you drooling.

Can’t wait to make sure you never text this man again.

“Is something wrong?” You ask now, he smirks, brightening his face so you don’t figure out all his thoughts.

“Nah, sweets, just curious who’d break up with you.” His casual words hit hard, as he brushes your hair back now, leaning in again and you think maybe he’ll kiss you finally, but he just stares at you, holding your face with strong hands.

So strong he could really crush you if he wants, you feel so small in his presence, so overwhelming. Then he brushes his lips up and against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut, your body throbbing with need, but he pulls away after the little kiss on your face, those blue eyes glittering now, he grins all bright and beautiful, casually putting his hands in his pockets.

“Well, I’m off now, enjoy your night, huh?” You blink a bit at that, wondering then, is something not to his liking about you? You’re studying yourself in the mirror after he left, picking yourself apart.

Your makeup is perfect still, your outfit is sexy, you look really good, and you’d damn near been begging for him silently. Maybe he wasn’t interested? Then why did he look at you like that? You sigh now, washing your face and getting down to just your bra and panties, picking back up the phone and finally writing your ex back, then seeing a text from Satoru.

Satoru: Had fun, sweets. Good night.

You: I had fun too… you didn’t have to leave so early.

Satoru smirks, still in his car, watching your silhouette from behind your curtains, gently walking back and forth, he glares when he realizes you are likely naked or damn close to it. He is going to have to teach you some lessons, it seems, because you are already trying to show the world what’s his.

Or will be.

Satoru: It was getting late, did you want me to stay?

You: Maybe I did. Thank you for tonight though.

Satoru: No problem, love.

Love… that does something to you, Satoru does something to you, when your head hits the bed and you’re staring up at the ceiling. Your ex texts you again, but this time you ignore it, thoughts whirling, you still feel the touch to your cheek, having fucked you up more than even being intimate with someone.

Satoru Gojo, who was he really?

*****

“Hey, hey… what’s wrong?” Satoru knows what’s wrong, he is all sweet hugs and rubbing your back though when you are at his place the next week, sobbing against his chest.

“I’m so sorry… I… My landlord just kicked me out!? And I did nothing wrong, she said she’s renting it for triple to someone? I was past my lease, but shit.” Satoru smiles, but you don’t see it, buried against his strong chest as he strokes your hair softly, pleased that you came to him.

You’re such a good girl.

“Oh, sweetheart, it's okay. Shh.” He’s consoling you so sweetly, you pull back, seeing his concerned gaze as you blink away tears, swiping at your cheeks.

“I can’t afford three times the rent? Satoru I… I make decent enough money, if I could just pay you for a room until I find somewhere? I-”

“Nonsense.” He cuts you off, and your stomach flutters when he’s brushing a hand across your back, palm pressing into the fabric of your dress, like it’s burning you with a touch. “You stay here for free, save up money, yeah?”

“I can’t do that, I have to pay you something. It’s already a huge imposition-”

“Have you seen this place? It’s not shit to have you here, won’t cost me anything anyway.” You have seen it, his insane penthouse with a view that’s fucking ridiculous. It’s spotless, only the finest everything all over, you know Satoru’s very wealthy as a CEO but he screams old money too.

“I would feel terrible. Could I cook, pick up?”

“I have cleaners. Cooking though… yeah, you good at it?”

You smile tremulously, wiping your eyes again. “I’m so good! I also could give the best neck massages after work?”

“Now that sounds perfect. It’s a deal then, stay as long as you need, but cook yummy things. As for a massage, we’ll see if you’re good as you say.”

“Swear, they’re magic! Oh goodness, I have to get to my shift soon, ugh… is there a way you could help me get my things? I’ll just leave the furniture, it’s old, I can buy new shit.”

“Absolutely.”

You hug him tightly, kissing his cheek then, he tenses at it, at the brush of your lips, at the curves of your body against him. Fuck he can’t wait to make you his.

“Satoru Gojo, you're amazing.” He chuckles then.

“I know.”

*****

Living with Satoru Gojo, who walks around shirtless is… difficult. Your tummy clenches, mouth gulping the first time you see him, his chiseled perfect body, all dewy after a shower. Towel slung across his neck, sauntering over to you with that smirk of his, so casual as you’re in the kitchen chopping up veggies, he brushes his fingertips across your back, driving you insane.

Shivers slink down your spine when he leans over you, breath against your neck, you damn near arch back into him as he murmurs in your ear. “Looks yummy.”

Fuck.

You take a shaky breath, hands trembling as you then nick yourself with the knife, you wince then. “Ow, shit!”

“Lemme see.” He takes your hand gently, peering at the drop of crimson that pushes out in droplets then, the way he takes your hand even is too much.

Weeks of living together, walking around in arguably almost nothing in front of him, and he hasn’t hit on you, despite his eyes devouring you, like they’re touching you. No he’d smile and lazily trail his gaze, maybe brush against you in the kitchen, give you a hug after work, you’d rub his neck just so and he’d grip your wrists, smiling up at you, to the point you’re losing control.

All you can think of is him.

Satoru loves it that way, too, he loves hearing you murmur his name in your sleep, he’s got cameras all over, especially in your room, and he can even hear you on them. Your little whines of pleasure, he’d see how your hands would move under your blankets, as you stayed as quiet as can be, but he heard your whimpers, your sweet little moans.

He strokes his cock every night watching you, listening, waiting.

He needs you to really need him.

“Just a little nick, I’m fine.” You assure him, then your mouth drops as he takes your finger, sucking it into his mouth.

He’s sucking on your damn finger, hot wet mouth and the lewd images destroying the fragile hold you have on your sanity, snowy lashes lowered as he presses his tongue up on your fingertip, putting pressure. You stand there quiet, but then there’s a little sound that escapes your throat, a little whine, and when he pulls back he smiles knowingly.

He licks his lips, a drop of blood on them, tilting his head as he releases your finger now. “Better?”

“Um… y-yes. Thank you, Satoru.” You manage to speak somehow, your voice hoarse, you clear your throat then. “Clumsy.”

“Mind somewhere?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Another week goes by, Satoru watches you every chance he gets, when he’s at work he watches you on his phone, he’s got a tracker in yours, for your safety you know, when something concerns him. Your daily trips were work, maybe the store, and a couple times a week the gym. But you’re somewhere he’s never seen you at, and it concerns him then.

Where are you?

He zooms in on the location.

Someone’s house?

Satoru’s jaw tightens then, and when you’re home that night, you notice he’s not friendly, or sweet, or talkative. He barely responds as you try to engage with him, and when you go to rub his neck, he stops your hands with an icy glare. “What’s… did I upset you?”

“How could you upset me?” He stands up, looming so tall, you shrink back just a bit, the backs of your legs hitting the fancy grey couch, until you’re sitting in it, and Satoru’s arms are on either side of you. “How could you, sweets, hmm?”

“I… I don’t know? Um…” Your mouth goes dry when he gets on his knees, spreading your thighs, your breaths coming quicker, pussy throbbing around nothing, thinking of him, feeling his long slender fingers on your skin. “Satoru?”

“You’re a perfect girl, aren’t you? A good girl?” Your hips shift, his eyes dart down, smiling as he peeks under your skirt now, a wet spot forming on your panties, he can’t wait to finally taste you, when you’re good of course.

“Good girl? I… don’t know.” Your hands are at your side, his face is right against yours again, your thighs on either side of his body, pressing into him.

“What’d you get up to today?” He asks, all casual like he doesn’t know, as he assesses your body for marks, bites, hickeys. Your body belongs to him, even if you don’t know it just yet. He finds none, making him just a little less furious, but now he feels the plush of your thighs in his grip, picturing shoving them against your chest.

You’d look so sexy in a mating press, wouldn’t you?

“I um… went to grab dinner, then I gave some shit to my ex that I had left from the apartment.” Satoru exhales in relief.

“Oh yeah? I could’ve helped you, love.”

“No, it’s awkward. I was holding onto it, I decided to just let it go, he didn’t choose me, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t choose you?” You lean forward, his eyes dart to your breasts, as a strap slips over your shoulder.

“Satoru, you're too good to me, and why? How have I come to deserve you in my life?” He exhales, adjusting the strap with two fingers, brushing your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps, he watches your nipples perk up under your tank top, furious that anyone has ever seen them.

“Is that all? You gave him his shit?” He tries to hide his anger, his jealousy.

“That’s all.” You answer, and he stands again, leaving you wanting and empty when he’s not touching you.

“Should have asked me to help. I’m calling it a night, yeah?” You manage a little nod, he tilts your chin up as he stands over you, your body reacting so violently you’re shaking damn near, unable to stop the reaction. He smiles knowingly, leaving you then, and you glare at his strong, perfect back as he walks off, giving you a little look before going to his room.

Satoru knew you saw him somehow? You can swear it. Are you freaking out for no reason? Surely he didn’t care what you did, he maybe just wanted to make sure you were okay, maybe he could sense you were stressed somehow?

Then why is there this gnawing feeling?

*****

The next day you’re trying to get to work, and your car won’t turn over. You curse it out, it’s old sure but it’s strong and has a good engine. Satoru had already offered to give you one of his cars, saying you could pay him back later, as if you could ever afford a Mercedes Benz. You’d turned him down of course, and now he’s standing in his insanely huge parking garage, right out the side of your window.

You open the door, sighing as you get out of the car. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it, ugh!”

“It’s an ancient relic?”

“Hey!” You playfully shove him, laughing then. “It is, I guess. But I don’t know why it won’t start?”

“I’ll have my mechanic check it, he’ll love this archeology.”

“Satoru!” You’re laughing so hard then, god he always makes you laugh, you wish he’d make you moan but you throw those thoughts far back.

“I’m kidding, sweets, kinda.” He narrows those blue eyes, his jaw tensing just a bit then as he assesses your car.

Couldn’t be because he took out your catalytic converter.

“Hmm, maybe a dead battery or alternator went out?” Satoru looks at you amusedly, you’re cute, knowing something about cars. But he needs you to stop worrying about things like that.

“For now, I’ll take you to work, yeah?” You exhale, nodding then.

“Thank you so much, Satoru, you’re so sweet to me.” You say later, as he drops you off at work, top down, grinning with those Gucci shades hiding those baby blues, some of the girls from the bar are out front, they start giggling when they see the two of you.

“He’s so hot!?” One of your friends loudly whispers.

“Shh, I know!” Gojo hears you though, grinning as he swipes a hand through his snowy locks.

“Hello, ladies.” He says, getting out then to come open your door, earning the swoons of everyone. You smile gratefully at him.

“Thank you, Gojo.”

“No worries, tell me when to pick you up, mmkay?” You nod then, he gives you a little kiss on the head, and your friends make no secret of how fine they think he is.

“Is he your man?” Your other friend asks, you shake your head then, while Satoru gets back in the car. “Bitch, why?”

“Is he single?” Your other friend asks.

Something makes you sick then, thinking of seeing Satoru with other women, and surely it would happen soon, yeah? He’s gorgeous and can get who he wants, and he hasn’t yet shown he wants you. You peek back at him as he is starting back up his car, looking at your friend again.

“He’s single.” Satoru wants to laugh at you. He’s not single, you’re his already,  you just haven’t gotten where he needs you.

“Why not date him?”

“He’s not interested. Drop it.” You hiss, waving at Satoru, he tilts his glasses down then, the unreal eyes behind the snowy lashes drinking you in.

“Have a good day, sweets.” He leaves a bunch of giggling, whispering friends and heat on your cheeks when he drives off, grin glinting in the setting sun, because now he knows just where you are.

*****

After two more weeks of living with Satoru, you’re at about a month with him, and despite the endless little brushes against your skin, the little touches while you cook, the hugs and pecks on your cheeks, he never makes a move. You moan just a little louder at night thinking of him, wondering then when you’d see him in the morning why he looked so tired.

You’re wondering about lots of things.

“Satoru, do you date?” You ask one day, and he looks at you lazily, trailing up and down your body the way he does, the way that makes you ache with longing.

“Do I date? I haven’t in a while, why?”

“You’re so… you?” He snorts then.

“What’s that mean?”

“Like, gorgeous? Smart and sweet? Rich? How do you not date?”

“When I get with someone it’ll be permanent, there won’t be any dating or fucking around, so I guess I’m kind of picky about it. Why? Would it make you jealous if I brought a girl over?”

Yes, yes it would.

“Oh, no, I’m cool with whatever. It’s your place, I just live here.” Satoru leans you against the counter then, barring you with strong arms, his thigh brushing between yours, he feels it then, the heat that builds as you shift your hips just a bit, eyes darting up to his.

“Wouldn’t mind if I fucked someone right here? Ya sure?”

“It’s your place.” You manage weakly again, watching thin nostrils flare, his pupils blown out as you shift again, and he feels your hot pussy against his thigh, your hands slipping up his shirt slowly. “You like to fuck, Satoru?”

He blinks now, shifting his thigh, tilting his head as he studies you. “You’re asking if I like to fuck?” You nod, just barely, and one of his hands slips down your side, his cock throbbing under his jeans, thinking about devouring your pussy right on the kitchen counter. He already has tasted you off those panties he stole, he imagines it’s even sweeter from the source. “Do you?”

Your cheeks flush, eyes lowering nervously, Satoru tilts your chin up, making you look right at him. “I didn’t like it much, no, but… I like to…”

“Play with your pussy?” You bite your lower lip, rolling your hips once more, waiting for him to break, but he acts casual as he’s ruining what’s left of your addled mind. “You brought it up, don’t be shy.”

“Yes, I like to. Do you… play with…”

“Slutty questions.” He smirks now, backing up, you look in horror as you realize you’ve left a damn wet spot on his thigh, but he brushes it with his thumb leisurely, lapping it off his tongue, leaving you with your mouth open. “Mmm. Have a good night, pretty.”

You’re shaking when you get to your room, literally dying over him, knowing he’s in the next room but won’t come near you is torture, but for him it’s fun. He’s watching you pace around your room avidly, damn near chuckling when you strip off your clothes so quickly, flopping on the bed and covering your face with your hands, pressing your knees together.

He’ll make you feel better soon, don’t worry.

But then, you pick up your phone, earning his glare that of course you can’t see, he picks up his other phone now, the one that shows him every message and call you make. Some guy has been trying to ask you out for a couple weeks, but you’d ignored him, like a good girl. Now, however… you’re texting him back!?

That just won’t do.

He’s so absorbed in staring at your messages, as you smile just a bit, wondering if there was a way to get under Gojo’s cool exterior.

Maybe a date with someone?

******

You’re dressed in some slinky outfit, it hugs your body just right, hitting about mid thigh, a black lacy little number. You step out of your room, his mouth drops open when he sees you, too much of your smooth skin revealed, your breasts on display for everyone who would see, you smile up at him all pretty and do a little spin as he grips his hands into fists.

He wants to rip that dress the fuck off you, bury his cock inside your pretty little cunt and fuck you hard, fuck you so hard you sob those eyelashes off, so hard your perfect hair is a tangled goddamn mess. Teach you that you’re his and only his, that you belong to him, have you cum so hard you can’t form anymore thoughts of ever leaving in your pretty head.

He can’t even speak when you nervously ask, “How do I look?”

How do you look? You look like you need your ass beat, your clit overstimulated to the point you beg him to stop, look like you need to get that pretty neck choked out by his big hands. And that little smile on your face, like you know just what you’re doing to him? Satoru’s teeth click together, jaw tensing now while he sits there on the desk chair looking at you.

“You look gorgeous. But then you always do.” You blush at that, lashes lowering at the praise. “But why so dressed up? Going out with… friends?”

You know he knows.

You hear it in his voice, in how tense it gets. You smile then, shaking your head, lacing your fingers together in front of you as you feel those blue eyes touching your skin. “No, I’m going on a date.”

Satoru’s little facade breaks for just a moment, he can’t keep it up just now, and it’s like you know, you’re being this little brat and not his sweet little thing right now. He can’t wait to fuck the attitude out of you, as hard as it’s making him. “Oh? A date, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s been a while you know.” You step up to him just a bit, smiling so pretty, devious little brat. “A while.”

“A while.” He repeats, voice hoarse, before realizing you’re trying to play him, aren’t you? “Since?”

“Since anything. This guy seems super nice, maybe he’ll… think I’m hot, you know? Be attracted too? We’ll see.”

“Who wouldn’t want you? That’s stupid.” He huffs.

“Oh, is it? Well I’m not everyone’s type, you know?” You blink those damn lashes at him, he raises a brow. “So we’ll see. But don’t wait up for me, hmm?”

“Don’t you need a ride?” He asks, as you head towards the door, grabbing your little purse now.

“Oh no, he’s going to come get me, don’t worry.” Satoru’s hand stops yours on the knob, hard body pressed against your back, your breath catches, quickening now, watching the veins raise on his hand, as it covers yours completely. “Something wrong, Satoru?”

“Just wanna make sure you’re safe, you should let me take you.”

“Don’t even impose yourself, I’ll be fine.” You turn and look up at him, his plush lips just a breath from yours. “Everything okay?”

“Of course it is, you can text me if you need me to get you though, okay?” You exhale now, slightly dejected.

You want him to say he doesn’t want you to go, fuck you want him to grab you and keep you here, he makes you feel so fucking toxic, the insane thoughts making your mind whirl, your tummy coil with desire. One of his hands grips your hip, and you feel his length against your back, your eyes shut as you grip the door knob so hard it hurts.

“I asked you something, sweets.” His grip tightens, you open your eyes again, looking up at him.

“Of course, Satoru.”

“Have fun then.” He is back to being a bright, happy Gojo, blue eyes glittering, letting you go when you ache for him to drag you against him. “Be safe, yeah? Creeps everywhere, stalkers even.”

He’s following you in his car as soon as you take off in this asshole’s car, he tracks your location and finds you’re at some restaurant, he sees you then, up front at a table shivering a bit in your slutty dress. Part of him thinks, that’s just what you get, but another part thinks, fuck this dude for not giving you his jacket, Satoru sizes him up with a flick of his eyes, fists clenching the steering wheel.

You keep peering at your phone, you don’t look like you’re really having fun, what are you playing at? Are you trying to make him insane, trying to make him more jealous than he already was? He was jealous anyone even fucking saw you altogether, he thinks how good it would be to breed you constantly, to keep you knocked up with his babies, stay at home for only his eyes to see.

The thoughts drive him insane, as does seeing this dude’s hand on your bare thigh now, thighs for him to touch, he is so furious he almost blows his cover, taking several breaths as he prepares to rip this dude’s hands off. How dare anyone touch you!? And then he gets it, your text.

Satoru, I’m so sorry, but are you busy?

Satoru exhales in relief, leaning his head back on the driver’s seat, brushing his hand across his face.

Having fun on your date?

Satoru is being petty but he can’t help it, he sees your cute little glare as you poke on your phone, and his hand slips higher up your leg.

Not really. I’ll be fine though, sorry.

Satoru panics now.

What’s wrong?

He watches as you type.

I feel really uncomfortable, could you please come get me? I’m so sorry to put you out like this…

Satoru comes right out of the car, walking across the street now, and your eyes widen in shock, lips parting as he saunters up, grinning and holding out a hand. “Hey pretty, wanna get out of here?”

“Excuse me!?” The man sputters, but you giggle, Satoru wonders if you’re the crazy one here, him or you?

“I’d love to.” You put your little hand in his, following him to his car then, when Satoru slides in however he cups your face, grip tight on you, his eyes glaring and fucking furious. “How’d you get here in ten seconds? Instant transmission like Goku?”

“You’re such a brat.” He mutters, glaring now as you grin, one hand in your hair, pulling, making you cry out, a sound that makes Satoru’s cock leak precum, just from the sound of you. “You did this it piss me off, hmm?”

“Why would you be mad, Toru?” You put a hand on his thigh now, leaning forward, showing more and more of your breasts. “You don’t even want me like that, haven’t you made it clear?”

He starts laughing now, he’s feral, manic in his insane laugh, pulling your hair even harder. “I don’t huh? Then tell me what the fuck this is?”

Satoru takes your hand putting it over his clothed cock now, you whimper feeling him for the first time, hard for you, his breaths coming faster and faster as you go to stroke him, earning his own throaty moan. “Are you jealous?”

“No, because he’s not shit, and you’re mine anyway.”

“How am I yours!? Don’t even kiss me. Don’t even-”

Satoru yanks you to him, slamming his lips on yours then, devouring your mouth, tongue swiping in every inch of it, swirling as he loses his fragile sense of control. You taste so good, you feel so good, he’s wanted you for so long, he’s brutal with his lips, with his teeth, with how he grips your chin so fucking tight. You’re falling apart for him, then, when he yanks back.

His breath is hot on your lips, his hand slipping between your thighs then, you can’t stop the cry that escapes your lips, when he finds you over your panties, soaking wet for him. “This for me, or for him?”

“Stupid- ah!” Satoru pulls your hair so hard tears prick your eyes, stroking you over your sticky panties.

“Watch that mouth, and that attitude before I fuck it out of you.” His whisper and his touch makes you drip down his fingers, you’re arching your hips as he touches you, pressing on your clothed clit now. “So you get this wet for me?”

“You get that hard from me?” You counter, he laughs again, shaking his head at your audacity, slipping his finger under your panties now, finding your bare cunt.

“Stupid fucking soaked, huh? From a kiss?”

“Just touch me, please…” You’re begging him now, leaning closer, lips pressing against his, drinking his moans when he shoves two fingers in your eager hole, stretching you and making you gasp. “Satoru…”

“Do you deserve to cum, after acting this way?” He demands, curling his fingers up in your slick walls, pressing that spot that has your eyes rolling back, entire body reacting to him, dripping down his sleeves, his watch you’re so wet. “Answer me.”

The first slap on your cheek shocks you with the sting that throbs, you glare at him, slapping him back on his pretty face, earning him gripping your wrist brutal as his fingers fuck into you. The car is heating up right in the middle of the damn street, you hear your pussy squishing, hear your cries and gasps.

“Asked you a question, sweets. Seeing your ex, going on a date, showing off this body to everyone? Ya think you’re a good girl?” You shake your head then, and he groans, kissing you messy, tongues drooling saliva, thumb finding your clit now, and you’re close, so close, clinging to him.

“N-no but… please…” He laughs as he pushes you to the edge, sucking you off his fingers then, groaning, cheeks hollowing.

“Fuck you taste even better than your panties.”

“My what!?”

“C’mere, ya wanna be a good girl for me?” You blink rapidly, nodding then, and he revs up the car, pulling out, you are jostled as he begins to drive like a maniac, you’re grasping him, half thrown on his lap.

“Where are we going?”

“Home. You’re gonna make it up to me, being so slutty, huh?”

“Slutty?”

“Slutty mouth.” Satoru unzips his pants then, and you gulp when you see him for the first time, thick and long, veiny cock so pretty, the tip pink, drooling drops of precum already. You stare at it, he feels it as he drives, peeking at you now, grabbing the back of your hair again. “Put it to use, and I’ll let you cum.”

“Fuck…” You have never done something like this, but you find yourself bent over him then, taking your tongue and lapping at the precum on his tip, while he drives with one hand, his other, entangling against the nape of your neck.

“Gonna be my perfect little slut, no one else's, huh?” You nod eagerly, you’re stupid, this man literally stalked you on your date, he’s acting possessive and psychotic, but your pussy is clenching around nothing. “Say it.”

“Your perfect little slut.” You whisper, he moans then, husky and guttural as you suck him in your mouth now, hot and wet, swirling your tongue around the ridge of his tip, earning his hips bucking, cock twitching.

“That’s it, I knew you could behave. There you go, good girl.” You’re trembling, sucking him deep in your throat, over and over as your cunt is drooling, dripping down the panties that are becoming soppy wet and pathetic like you. “Feel that slutty mouth, never gonna suck anyone again, are you baby?”

“Mmm…” You’re moaning eagerly, sucking his cock as deep as you can, he’s shoving your head fully down to where you’re slobbering all over him, tears pricking your eyes, you’re shaking while he uses your throat, your mouth, as your taste his salty precum, shoving it in your throat deeper and deeper.

“F-fuck… you’re finally being good, huh? Bet you wanna cum, bet your pussy is soaked, yeah?”

He knows you can’t answer, he’s loving the choked out sounds you’re making as you suck him down more and more, until he finally pulls up to his house, he pulls you off him, cock glittering with your saliva. He moans, kissing you again, teeth sinking into your lip, tasting himself off your tongue, you’re whining, trembling, he chuckles just a bit then.

“Look at you, sucked it that good? Should I fucking be mad?” He demands then, you gasp at his touch on your pussy again.

“It’s been a long time for me, okay?” You whisper, he exhales now.

“No one will touch you again when I’m done, yeah? No one.” You nod weakly, Satoru smiles now. “Good, you’re so good f’me.”

Satoru’s got you in his penthouse so quickly you’re disoriented, and as soon as the door is closed behind you, he grabs you, slams you against the wall, and kisses you again, hard and desperate. His hands slips down to your ass, squeezing it roughly in his big palms, long fingers pressing in as he takes over everything, making you moan into his mouth.

You can feel his cock pressing against your tummy now, thick and insistent, on your tummy, half put up, his pants unzipped, and you can’t help but arch into him, rubbing against him, tip toeing to get close. He’s so rough with you, so demanding, and it’s making you wetter, making your body respond in ways it never has before, it’s insane what he’s doing to you.

He shoves a hand back up your dress, twisting your panties to the side again, rubbing in teasing circles, as tears fall out of your eyes, looking at them and moaning. “You’re crying?”

You manage a sniffle, fuck you looks so perfect like this, in tears for him, it only makes Satoru’s cock spurt more precum, so hard it hurts, he can’t wait to bury it so deep in you, he’s picturing it as he slides his fingers into your soaked cunt. You moan loudly, you’re tiny hands clinging to him, leg around his hip, letting his fingers fuck you deeper.

“Hear it? You’re so loud, so messy, huh?” He’s whispering, all you can do is nod, pupils so blown out your eyes are dark. “Look at you, fucked out from my fingers? That won’t do, baby.”

You barely register his fingers sliding out of your pussy again, you whine at the emptiness, but then he’s on his knees, shoving your dress up over your hips, yanking your panties off you. He’s throwing one of your legs over his shoulders, bright blue eyes staring up under his snowy lashes, you’re clinging to his hair, chest rising and falling as he places a kiss on your pussy.

“You were so good, I’ll treat you so good, hmm? Make you feel s’good?” You just nod, earning a smack on your pussy, making you gasp. “What do we say, little slut?”

“Please.” Satoru Gojo then his face buried between your legs, his tongue sliding along your slit, tasting your arousal that starts pouring down his mouth. You gasp as he nibbles on your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.

He’s eating you out like he’s starved, slutty moans from both of your throats, your head slamming against the wall. His stupidly long  tongue is moving in circles around your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you can’t believe how good it feels. You’ve never been with a man who’s so hungry for you, who devours you like this, his fingers making your squelching wetness even louder.

Your hands entangle in those silky white locks as he fingers and licks like he’s always known how to, but it comes so natural, flicking his tongue against your little twitchy clit over and over. Your cunt is so wet his fingers slip, before shoving back in, pressing your spongy spot inside your little hole, all while you’re a pathetic mess, sniffling and hiccuping.

He can’t wait to make you stupid for him, beyond this, beyond anything, can’t wait to own you, possess you in every fucking way. As he sucks your tiny clit in his hungry mouth, he moans against it, looking up and watching you shatter for him. You’re so close to cumming, you can feel it building.

“Gonna cum, please, please-” You whine out, gasping, thighs shaking as you’re too weak to stand, but then he stops, leaving you gasping for breath, your body on the edge, pulsating all over through every vein..

“Beg for it.” He orders, sadistic smirk on a face half soaked with you, as he licks his lower lip, glossy.

“Please, Satoru, please make me cum.” You whisper, your voice shaking, and he groans, shocking you when he yanks you down, you slam onto the ground wincing and gasping as you hit the floor, and he starts palming at your dress, until he’s ripped it completely off you. “Satoru!? What!?”

Your dress is in pieces now, much to his pleasure, all you have now is what’s left of it under you, and you’re naked aside from heels and a bra. “You’ll never wear that fucking dress again, got me? Showing off what’s mine when I wasn’t even with you? Do you hear me?”

You nod then, you should be terrified, but fuck you want him too much, as he shoves your thighs up high, then dives back in, his tongue swirling around your clit, his teeth grazing it again as he bites it. You scream out at the pain, he shoves those fingers back in, three this time.

“Too much, too much!” You’re sobbing out, and he laughs now.

“No baby, your slutty pussy can take it, huh? Lemme hear you scream my name.” He shoves his fingers in so deep and his tongue is drinking you as your orgasm hits you, your body convulsing against his mouth, your juices flowing onto his face, everywhere.

You can hear him, lapping you up, drinking every bit, all while the best orgasm of your existence makes you blind, you’re floating, the only thing that tethers you is when he looks down at you, fingers still buried. He slams his lips back on yours, you taste your pussy on his lips, whimpering and clinging to him desperately, bare as he’s fully dressed.

“You’re made for me, only me to taste, just me.” You just nod, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t talk baby?”

“You, jus’ you… Toru…” He’s picked you up to stand, before he’s pulling you up against him, holding your naked frame against him, carrying you to your bed now, lips not coming up for air until he’s tossed you on your bed.

“Bra off, now.” He orders, you do as he says, tossing it and then peeking at the camera you know is there, smiling before you look back at him. He’s glaring, unbuttoning his dress shirt now. “Looking at something?”

“Oh, nothing. Do you record? Will you stroke yourself to this later?” He slips off his shirt, leaving you speechless until he’s laying on top of you again, eyeing your perfect tits and little smile.

“You knew?” You tilt your head now, leaning up on your elbows, a hand stroking his cheek.

“Did you like how I played with my pussy in front of it? How I moaned your name?” Satoru’s ended now, scowling at you.

“You liked it, being watched? By me?” You nod again, swallowing as he slides off his pants, yanking off your heels, kissing along the tops of your feet before lapping at your ankles. “You did it knowing?”

“You wouldn’t come to me.”

Satoru’s eyes are on you, you’re his entire world now, his obsession, his fixation. He’s going to claim you, fuck you until you forget every other man who ever existed. He’s going to ruin you, and you’re going to love it, he can already tell when his cock is hot and heavy against your inner thigh, when your hips are rolling up, and you’re dripping down the bed.

“You get off on it, me being fucking obsessed, huh?” You nod weakly, and Satoru has your thighs spread and pressed up, his tip drooling precum against your aching hole. “Then let me be clear, you'll never see or date anyone again, got it?”

Satoru grins sadistically as you weakly nod, whispering a-  “Yes, Satoru.” He moans then, filling your tight hole in one stroke of his huge cock, stuffing you so full you scream out, pussy gripping him like a vise, drooling down his veiny cock to his balls, pooling under you both as his own eyes roll back.

“Feel her, made f’me, just me? Mine, mine, mine.” He’s whispering it like some insane mantra as he begins to move, fucking into your soppy cunt over and over, you’re pulsing and fluttering around him as he pounds your cunt, nasty words spilling from his pouty lips. “My little slut, hmm? Mine.”

“Ngh…” Is all you manage, when he slams your cervix with his drooly tip, leaning up to grip the headboard and pressing a thigh higher, railing your cunt so much it hurts, but you’re dying, drool pooling out of the side of your lips, eyes fluttering, trying to stay open.

“That’s it, oh look at you, fucked stupid already? I’m just starting with you, baby, gonna fuck your pretty mind up till it’s all me.” He leans down, rolling his hips and grinning with his eyes lit up, so dark they look black for just a moment. “That’s it, cum all over my cock, can’t help yourself huh?”

You do then, you’re cumming all over him, muscles contracting around his cock so hard she tries to push him out with the force, so much wetness dripping it’s streaming across his cock, earning his breathy moan. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs shaking, you are stupid, you can’t form one thought in your pathetic brain as your orgasm waves over your body.

“Aw, fucked dumb? Poor stupid baby. I’ll keep fucking all those thoughts out of your head, hmm? Till it’s just me.”

“Satoru… jus’ you… s’good I…” You can’t talk anymore, not when his cock’s strokes are hitting just right, not when his tip drags against your gspot before bruising your cervix. You’re clinging to him, nails pressing into his strong back, as pulls back, watching your tummy bulge.

“Fucking up your guts, fucking up your brain. S’all me, huh?” You can’t answer, you’re too fucked out, but his slap brings you too, he smacks both cheeks, gripping your thighs brutal, leaving bruises. “Focus, baby, focus.”

“S’all you…” You answer, you’re so obedient, you’re so good for him.

“You’re such a good girl, perfect pussy, perfect body. Perfect face. Haunting my every fucking thought, torturing me.” He shoves your thighs high, pressing them against your breasts, folding you in half and bottoming out, you scream at it, hands gripping the sheets beneath you as you’re stretched and filled so much. “You’re so good you deserve all my cum, all these babies in you.”

You can’t register concern, he’s pounding you while gripping your face so tightly, you feel so tiny as he works his long, muscular body, as he breaks your body and mind with his cock, slamming harder and harder. You hear the sounds of it, the smack smack smack of his skin, as his balls slap your asshole, covered in slick from your cunt that’s drooling down his length.

“That’s it, milk my cock, so fuckin good, you want it, me to fill you, make you drip me for days.” You just weakly cry out, sniffling, tears pouring down your cheeks. “So beautiful like this, crying f’me? Oh baby, you’re perfect like this.”

Satoru loves your tears, your trembling lips, as you grip him so good, he feels it, you’re going to cum again, eager pussy sucking him in loudly, as he fucks you so hard the headboard slams the wall, you’re barely hanging on, sobbing and mumbling. You’re so fucked out it’s cute, opening and closing your mouth, unable to speak.

“It’s all me in there, yeah? Gonna be all me, gonna fill you so good, baby just wait, f-fuck!” Satoru slows then, pumping your cunt full, hot gooey cum sticking to your walls and making you cum right with him as he fucks it further, deeper.

“Satoru!” You’re mumbling his name, gasping for breath as he fills you, all of you, so hot and deep, until he finally lowers your legs, laughing softly.

“Oh I’m gonna have so much fun with you, you’re never leaving me, are you? Aw, can’t talk baby?”

He’s got you flipped on your trembling knees next, burying his face in your pussy, cleaning all his cum out and groaning. “Too much, too much!”

“Taste us together, fuck. Made for me, just me.” He’s on top of you next, prone over you, fucking out his first load and prepping you for another, all while he’s choking your neck squeezing so hard you almost faint. He’s whispering in your ear, breath tickling, hands over your sensitive skin. “Love it, hands around this neck, beg me to cum in you, fill you.”

“P-please… please fill me- ah!” You’re fading as he chokes you harder, spitting and drooling in your mouth, cock wrecking you as he fills you again, his sweat dripping from his skin as he works you. He groans then, hand pressing on your tummy.

“So full of me, but you need more, need no question in your pretty head who you belong to.”

After another load you’re weak, and he’s still going. When you finally wake in the morning, after several loads pumped in your pussy, you’re a mess, wobbling weakly as you step out of your room, thinking of facing him. Would things be different now, was it all passion, in the moment? Was it just sex? Was it more…

You smell something sweet then, inhaling as you slip on one of his dress shirts, you’d gone from fucking in your room to the bathroom, all the way to his room. At some point he had you bent over the couch, at another he had you pressed against the shower wall. It’s like little fragments, your pussy is aching, your experience has never prepared you for his size or stamina.

But you feel deliciously fucked out.

You catch his eye then, he looks at you, exhaling at how beautiful you are, your eyes are a little puffy from crying, you have bruises and marks littering your neck, you’re wearing his expensive dress shirt and nothing else. He feels himself hard just looking at you like this, remembering all the cum he’d pumped you full, wondering if it was still dripping out?

“Good morning, sweets. Get some shut eye?” He teases, winking at you as he flips his spatula, finishing the stack of pancakes he’s made.

“You cook, Satoru?” You ask, throat hoarse from your moans, from slobbering all over his cock and having him choke you. You clear it nervously, earning his smirk.

“Cute.” He murmurs, pulling out a chair for you. “Of course I cook, I just enjoy you cooking for me, so sexy watching you, barefoot in the kitchen you know.” 

“That sounds so…”

“Sit down, you need that energy baby. Last night I know I took it easy…’

“What!?” You blink then, sitting as he plates your breakfast, wincing at how sore your entire body is.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, look at my girl.” The words ruin you, when he leans down, cupping your face and his thumb brushes along your jaw. “Covered in bruises.”

“I am?” You look down and see your thighs, your chest, in hickeys and bruises, red and purple all over. “Oh…”

“Don’t worry you’re not going anywhere today anyway. You should take a break from work, you know.” He chuckles and kisses you. “Fuck I’ve waited so long for you, for you to be mine.”

You are kissed by him then, you eagerly meet his lips, before he pulls back, taking a breath. You frown when you see your phone is over by his coffee. “Is that my phone?”

“Oh, mmhmm. Needed to block any guys, you know, also that period tracker said you’re ovulating today.” You blink again as you sip the orange juice he gives you, nearly choking on it, his blue eyes have gotten even brighter, his grin huge as he watches your expressions.

“Satoru…”

“I threw out your birth control, cancelled your prescription.”

“Satoru!”

“What baby?” He sits you up on the table, between your thighs, your body violently reacts when he grabs you under your chin, his other hand slipping down your breasts. “I know, I should have breakfast first, is that what you want?”

“I… you…”

“Gonna look so fucking sexy full of me.” He lifts your thighs, sliding up the shirt you wear as he sits right on the seat, sliding it up to get a full view of your abused, puffy cunt. “Oooh, fucked her up. Do you hurt, baby?”

“Y-yes… I- ah!” Satoru’s lapped at your pussy now, from your hole to your clit, chuckling as he pulled the lips apart. “T-Toru…”

“Look at her, she’s ready for more, she’s so greedy.” He’s buried his face against you again, and you’re cumming so quickly, he laughs at it. “So easy, too. Ah we’re gonna fill her up more, don’t worry, gotta knock you the fuck up.”

You’re going to protest then, this is insane, he’s crazy, but when you’re getting bent over the kitchen table and fucked again, you soon forget your protests, as Satoru grips your tits and pinches your sensitive nipples, pounding your hole, all you can do is cry out and arch your back. Satoru smiles against your neck as you fall apart, as he pictures breeding you.

He’s got you right where he wants.

And you both know you’re never leaving.

Ahahah this was INSANE, none of this is cool unless it's Gojo, stay safe out here lol. Hope you all enjoyed! (yes all my stories are Arctic Monkeys or Chase Atlantic lyrics loll)

Taglist: @silvarys @strychnynegirl @indiewritesxoxo @alygator77 @moonlitwitchdaisy @cuntphoric @aldebrana @levislug @haruhatake @ninikrumbs @xixflower @star2112 @nanasukii28 @sukuxna0 @naammiii @uhnosav @victoria1676 @thequeenofcurses @targaryenluvs @jinjen @yesdere @shokosmokes @aishi-toru  @labelt-san @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @seeing-stars-alt @bunheadusa @alt--er--love @1satoruu @thikcems @plimplimmeiododoi @watermelonslut

[fushitoru]

finish her! a toji fushiguro oneshot

pairing ⸺ wrestler!toji x reader

summary ⸺ you will have to face one of the most formidable wrestlers in history in your next match: toji fushiguro. but don't be confused, this isn't normal wrestling⸺no, it's nude wrestling. and winner gets the spoils of the other's body! (extended ver of my toji drabble here) creds to @/reynisxxsimart on twitter for art!

warnings ⸺ nasty, NASTY smut, VERY public sex, WWE but pornhub edition, you’re a wrestler fighting toji, so some violence but nothing graphic, fem!reader, HUMILIATION, degradation, you're literally fucked in an arena of people, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spanking, oral sex (f! recieving), boobplay, very inaccurate depiction of wrestling/WWE, not edited we die like toji

a/n im going to sit in the corner and think about what i just wrote

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

the muffled sounds of the crowd’s deafening roar seem to swirl in the space around you, each cheer vibrating through your chest like distant thunder. you take a long, cool sip of water, a welcome contrast to the warm air backstage. lounging back, you let the chair support your weight, your muscles still humming with the residual tension of anticipation. utahime’s fingers work into your shoulders, and her voice filters through the buzzing atmosphere, calm and steady as she gives you a rundown of the night ahead, though her words seem to blur slightly at the edges—just background noise to the constant hum of adrenaline.

“in front of a crowd—do you understand? and the rules are no fucking, unless all clothes are off first.”

“right,” you affirm, albeit hesitantly. you’re feeling a bit jitterish in anticipation of what’s to happen, despite having trained months to hone your ability as a wrestler. look, wwe itself can get really suggestive at times, with people giving wedgies, removing certain articles of clothing, or even letting the crowd cop a feel of the defeated to serve as humiliation. not only does it improve publicity, but it also increases viewership of all the horny bastards on the internet to circle the televised clip around in their subreddits or discord servers.

but what you were going to do today—that was a bit…extreme. it was like bridging the gap between soft core and hard core, with the humiliation turned up to a hundred. because today, you were going to wrestle the man that all female–and male–wrestlers could even dream of having their hands on, even if for a slight moment.

toji fushiguro.

a man of impressive build—entering a ring with him only meant defeat. he’s had numerous career wins, far exceeding any other. hell, you shouldn’t even be matched to wrestle with him today; he outweighs and outranks you by far. the only thing you really have running for you is the sheer amount of fans you have, ready to tune in to your fights and edit your moves and time spent in the fighting ring to songs like “chun li” and “maneater.” so, sure, you don’t exactly anticipate a win today in that stadium that’s waiting for you, but you’re no less of a wrestler in your own right. you won’t go down without a fight.

however, today was no normal fight. the wwe had suddenly decided that their viewership was too low, that extreme measures needed to be taken to boost. so, ironically enough they had decided to change the rules just before your momentous match:

all wrestlers must consent to having all and any articles of clothing removed from their person, particularly for sexual intercourse as a reward for the winner.

so, WWE (Pornhub’s Version) (In The Vault). 

and your luck dictated that this paradigm shift for the organization occur just before your most anticipated match with toji. again, you knew that no amount of training could prevent you from getting utterly humiliated, but it was almost like the gods were laughing down on you, eager to rub in your impending defeat once more. because you were going to get your shit fucked up—-literally.

“it’s going to be fine,” utahime assures you, and you snap back to the present from your thoughts at the sound of her voice. “just think about the publicity this’ll get you! not that you don’t have any fans of yourself, but there are going to be a lot of people tuned in because of fushiguro.”

you take an inhale in and nod. “yea, that’s true. i just want to get it over with.”

as if answering your prayers, gojo satoru, the mc, burst into your dressing room. “it’s your time to shine, buttercup!” he grins, ushering you out the door. albeit a bit nervously, you stand up and make your way into the hallway that leads directly into the middle of the arena. “you’re going to do great!”

as soon as you walk closer and closer to the arena, the screams get louder and louder, the music booming and causing the floor under you to vibrate. the sounds of people surround all your senses, wrapping you up and causing your heartbeat to go faster and faster. 

reaching the end of the hallway, the arena is filled with light, and you have to blink to get a hold of your sight. surrounding the center boxing ring are stands upon stands of people, hustling and bustling. at the sight of you, cameramen stationed around in various spots through the arena furiously angle their cameras towards you. not only are journalists and the media snapping pictures, blinding you with the flash, but you see yourself displayed on the big screens visible to everyone in the arena. you smile and wave, causing your fans to scream as they register that you have walked in. 

then, a realization washes over you. these are the same screens that are going to be projected whatever's going to happen during the fight and when you lose.

oh god.

you walk forward, trying to keep up your smile and wave to all of your fans that outstretched their hands, trying to cop a feel and/or get a high five. most of your fans are male (to no one's surprise), and you can feel their eyes roving over you appreciatively, taking in your outfit. it was simple and tight; shorts that just barely covered your ass and was snug around your hips, and a low cut top that couldn't even be called a top. your cleavage was on full display, and the top stopped just below your waist. typically, this is your wrestling attire you wear to a normal match, but you couldn't help but wryly notice that today, your neckline was cut lower than usual. the wwe was really trying to milk this, huh?

you stood just below the boxing ring, eyes anxiously scanning the arena, unconsciously searching for the man you were set to fight. but no matter how hard you looked, you couldn't spot his tall, muscular figure either in the ring or in the seat he was supposed to occupy with his manager.

a light tap on your shoulder startled you, and you turned to find utahime behind you, a concerned look on her face. "everything alright?"

"yeah," you said, waving her off with a forced smile. "but where is he?"

utahime pointed toward the boxing ring, and then you saw it—a glimpse of black hair.

"alright," you said, swallowing nervously. "i'm heading into the ring. wish me luck."

"wait!" utahime called out, but you were already too far to hear her. gripping the ropes at the edge of the ring, you hauled yourself up and strode toward the center, determined to get a better view. and there, just on the far side of the ring, hidden from your previous angle, was toji fushiguro.

he was lounging back, relaxed, his posture almost lazy as he faced his manager, shiu kong. you couldn’t see toji's face from this angle, but his body language indicated that he was the epitome of ease. shiu was saying something to him, and from your best attempt at lip reading, you could just make out the words, "don't break the rules today."

toji, on the other hand, didn't seem to be looking at him (giving 0 fucks, something so classically toji), focusing now towards the big screens everyone else saw in the arena. you turned your gaze towards them as well, only to be taken aback when it was you, a compilation of your best moments in the ring, narrated by gojo.

“and today, fellas, we’re going to see the bombshell y/n—the maneater, as coined by her fans—-competing! while her opponent is fushiguro, don’t be fooled—she can pack a mean punch. look at this fight with mei mei; she sweeped the floor with her face!” 

satisfied, you looked around, the arena bustling with people getting drinks, being enraptured with your fight on the screen, or pointing at you or toji. toji, on the other hand, was chuckling and shaking his head at your fight, observing as you gave the bitch mei mei a wedgie. which kind of made you flustered, because you had developed a crush on the guy observing him from afar or in passing, so you just focused on shaking out your legs and arms in nervousness.

gojo similarly announced toji’s fights and compilation, gassing him up for the crowd and it was then that toji finally turned around, uninterested in whatever was going on, and caught your eye. you stared back, breath held involuntarily. 

his eyes had a predatory glint to them, and he smiled, charmingly in a way that showed off his scar, and they scanned up and down your figure, taking in what you were wearing—or rather, letting his imagination run. nervously, your heart sped up as you clenched your thighs up in anticipation or anxiety, you couldn’t choose which, as your mind began running at the speed of light thinking about what was going to happen today.

today, you weren’t only going to wrestle toji fushiguro. you were going to fuck him.

but you’re jolted out of your thoughts as gojo’s obnoxious voice blares through the speakers. “give it up for thee wwe goat, toji fushiguro!”

screams reach an all time high as his smirk is broadcasted to the audience, biceps bulging and flexing as he heaves his way up on the ring, joining you. he waves lazily, roars at an all time high as he stalks his way to you, and you squeeze your nails into your palm out of nervousness.

when gojo announces your name, the male screams rise up in volume, causing you to giggle and fushiguro to roll his eyes from what you can see in the corner of your eye. you give a dainty wave, choosing to wink and blow a kiss to the camera in front of you, causing your fans to scream even louder.

“you sure got a lotta fanboys, darling.” you jump as toji has now bent down to whisper in your ear, literally sending shivers down your spine.

you force out a laugh. “and you're at no shortage of fangirls yourself, fushiguro.”

he gives you a nonchalant hum, assuming his original position. as gojo continued to yap about the stakes of the round today, the recent rule change, a referee walked over to you both, coming in closer so that you would be able to hear him over the chaos of the arena.

“so, you’re both aware of the rules, right?” he both looked at you, to which you nodded and toji’s smirk widens. “you gotta get the other’s clothes completely off, and the first one to do that wins.”

you gulp, eyeing what toji was wearing today. it was his signature garb, the one he wore to almost every match without fail: grey pants with various sponsorships sewed on, and a black compression shirt. it was definitely very minimal compared to what a lot of the other wrestlers wore, but it was iconic, giving him a lazy, laid back aura that no other wrestler could truly emanate.

it wasn’t anything hard to take off in particular.

both of you affirmed your consent to the referee, who then took a step back after wishing you both good luck.  you turned, facing toji face on, who had his hand on his hip. “try to last long, okay?” he smirks, patting your shoulder with his other hand. “i’ll try to drag this out as much as i can, but it’s gonna be fuckin hard if that ass is grinding against me.”

you glare, but there isn’t much intensity to it because you know he’s much stronger than you. there isn’t much to get angry about. “yea, yea,” you huff. “for all i know, you’ll be my personal dildo today.”

he barks out a laugh and looks at the referee, who has one hand raised, the other one poised on his whistle, ready to blow and start the round. it’s starting soon. then, he looks back to you and smiles. “let the games begin.”

the referee blows the whistle.

at once, you launch yourself towards toji, trying to jump on him to get him off his feet with your weight. instead, he dodges easily and leaves you hurtling towards the floor, making you poise yourself on your hands and feet upon impact. you roll over just as toji tries to tackle you and pin you against your original position on the floor and quickly get up.

however, as you’re steadying yourself on your feet, toji grabs your ankle, causing you to lose your balance and giving him the advantage to pin himself on top of you, his mouth breathing heavily next to your ear, whispering so it was just the two of you that could hear his words. “what do you think i should take off first?” he laughs deeply, the vibration causing you to shiver and try to squirm to get out of his hold, to no avail. “should it be these?” he snakes his hands down to grope your tits, giving them a firm squeeze, much to the arena’s pleasure. “or should i take these off of you?” he slaps your ass, making you blush furiously.

“fuck you,” you hiss as his hands catch on the edge of your shorts.

he gives you a sweet, small kiss on your temple. “don’t worry, baby,” he smiles. “you’ll be doing that anyways.” and with that, he pulls at your shorts until the waistband’s elastic rips, leaving your shorts in tatters until he throws the remains of it away, baring your panty-covered ass to the crowd, which immediately grows wild.

you crane your neck to look at the screen, which is currently focused on toji’s hands feeling up your ass, dipping inside your underwear to knead the flesh. your heart is pounding, the thought i need to get the upper hand flashing continuously across your mind. it’s almost as if you’re drowning, the noises of the crowd blurring together until it was only you and toji’s weight on you. you barely heard the announcer exclaim, “toji is currently in the lead!” as you focused on calculating your next move.

it was time to pull out all the stops. 

turning your head until you were making eye contact with him, you bit your lip, momentarily distracted him with the 180 turn of your actions, now nonchalant rather than the flailing you were doing earlier. then, you raised your hips, meeting your backside with his crotch in an effort to catch him off guard and to make him lose balance. then, you maneuvered yourself so your thighs surround toji’s waist and hump your hips against his bulge. this momentarily distracted and weakened toji, and you take full advantage of it by overtaking him and now straddling him. you quickly take off his shirt, salivating at the muscles you see. the whole stadium, in fact, can see his abs and pecs glistening with sweat.

smirking while peering down at him, you slowly grind your hips as if you were riding a mechanical bull, making a show of spinning around his shirt with your hand to mock him. toji’s eyes darken, but a mirthless smile flashes across his face anyways. “damn, take me out to dinner first.”

you flash him one of your own humorless smirks, happy that you got at least one thing against him. “i don’t fuck anyone before the first day, honey. this is just another cheap fuck.” with that, you yank his head back with his hair roughly, making a show of motorboating his pecs, as if to mock him.

instead of getting angry, he chuckles darkly. “you’re going to regret that. i was going to drag this out, princess, but i gotta fuck the brat out of you.” with that, he spins you around just as quickly—if not quicker—pinning you against the ground with your hands held above your head in one hand in a vice grip, the other groping its way down your body. he buries his face in your neck, salaciously licking the length of it. with his free hand—now stationed around your tits—he grabs at the hem of your top, pulling it up so everyone could see your lace bra. mockingly, he plants his face in the middle of your tits, moving his head side by side to motorboat you just as you had done to him, the soft plush of your tits encompassing his face.

the crowd cheers, even more so than they had when you had ripped his shirt off, as toji completely rips the top off as you squirm, making the removal even easier for him. you can feel all eyes on you as toji reaches for the clip of your bra, unhooking it and making your tits pop out. helplessly, you look at the screen, your writhing making them move in a jiggling motion, sweat shining and giving you the “oiled-up” look. he takes a moment to grope them, your whines ignored as he pinches your nipples. “what a sensitive girl,” he coos. “too bad she was too weak. now she’s going to have to take my cock.”

with that, he teasingly closes the distance between the waistband of your panties and his teeth, mouth snagging on the elastic. slowly, he drags them down, unveiling your glistening pussy for all eyes to see, and the crowd goes wild, chanting random requests at toji to do the most heinous things to you. as soon as you’re completely naked, he grabs you by the waist, propping you up against one of the corner posts. you’re now standing up, tearfully facing the arena as the wrestler kneels behind you, burying his face and nosing his way until your pussy, lapping up your wetness.

at the unexpected feeling of his tongue, you yelp, and toji slaps your ass. “stay still.” acquiescing, he licks up long stripes and shakes his head to grind his nose into your cunt, pleasuring you while humiliating you in front of everyone, forcing you to succumb to the pleasure he’s making you feel. while licking you, he groans. “fuck, this pussy is so sweet. i’ve run out of patience, fuck the performance part.”

with that, toji flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees on the floor and pulls down his pants. you don’t even look back at the monster that’s about to enter you for the sake of your mental health, but your legs are shaking in anticipation of his cock, slick dripping down your thighs. 

he drags his cock teasingly through your folds, and then brings it out to slap it against your ass, humming appreciatively at the recoil. then, as if he’s lost patience, he’s slowly entering you, pushing against your pussy’s resistance as he penetrates you in front of the whole arena. “fuck!” he groans, getting a better grip on you as he pushes your head down on the mat and fully goes to pound town.  

the humiliating plap! plap! plap! of his hips against the flesh of your ass echoing multiple strangers watch your pussy get wrecked. “the fuck this pussy’s so tight for? thought you were a slut?”

you’re tearing up, the feeling of his dick hitting your g-spot straight on making you clench hard, overwhelmed by the feeling of him pummeling you and his hands on your body, feeling you up. clearly, he knew how to pleasure a woman, and it made you all the more annoyed. you were fucked out, but not fucked out enough to prevent you from snarkily replying, “you’re not turning me on, small dick.”

he did not like that very much.

toji drills his hips into yours faster and slaps your ass multiple times consecutively. “yea, so why is she clenching so fucking much? why is she dripping, you whore?” as if to demonstrate his point, he brings his fingers to rub at your clit furiously, collecting the wetness that had dripped down from your hole then shoving his fingers into your mouth. “suck.” when you did just that, suckling at his fingers while hollowing your hot, wet heat around the appendages. 

at that, he groaned. “what a little cockwhore. shoulda made you suck my dick instead.”

in retaliation, you bite his fingers, hard, and then spit them out. “i would’ve bit your micro off.”

toji hisses, grabbing the hair at your scalp and pulling on it until your face was up, his mouth at your ear. “just for that, i’m going to come inside of your slutty pussy.” he speeds up, moving his hips faster and fast. the hand that wasn’t at your hair is now sneaking his way down your back, until you gasp.

because he’s inserted his thumb inside your ass.

“oh, ho ho,” he laughs mockingly. “you liked that, didn’t you?” you offer him no response, choosing instead to focus on the feeling of the sheer amount of pressure you were feeling down there, being doubly stuffed. by now, your orgasm has been steadily building because of the sheer power of toji’s stroke game, but as soon as he hits your spot one last time, your eyes roll back, causing you to arch your back and writhe due to the intensity of your orgasm.

you’re breathing heavily, toji fucking you roughly through it. once you’ve gotten a hold of your sense, you come back to reality as you realize that the crowd has adopted a rhythm to their chants, your fans and his screaming the same thing.

cum! cum! cum!

and toji only chortles as he continues your thirst, looking at you once again, and you can tell that he’s staving his orgasm back just after experiencing your clenches with the way he’s biting his lips, sweat running down from his temple to his abs. “what do you say, baby? wanna give the crowd what they’re asking for?” 

all it takes is a whimpered please, and toji just does what the crowd asks of him. ropes of his cum fill you, and you drop down in exhaustion to hear toji declared as winner. 

as you exhaustedly lift your head up, you see that cameras are out all around you, focused on the screen. you’re flustered when you realize the billboard is displaying toji’s cum seeping out of you.

A hand on your shoulder. “you good?” toji’s looking at you, eyes twinkling.

you let out a breath. “yea,” you laugh, out of breath. “good round.”

and he’s huffing, giving you a hand to get on your back. you can only lie on the ground as he barks for clothes to be put on you and for some water. then he turns to look at you once more, eyes twinkling. “wanna go for more in my hotel?”

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n i was going to have him carry u up near to the stands where your fans could grab at ur titties but this is alr depraved as it is. now im going to take a breather from tumblr for the rest of this week becasue WHEW ch5 gojo yesterday and finished this today i am ON A ROLL. see you guys for next week's kinktober fic (comment if you want to be tagged)! much love<3

reblog and comments are much appreciated!!!!!

taglist:

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom

@r0ckst4rjk

[rinnstars]

youre my world!

in which they accidentally reveal your relationship to the public (and confirms it)

bllk boys x reader (reo, nagi, rin, sae,): fluff, crack, pro-athletes bllk boys, drabbles, not proofread + likes n reblogs are appreciated!

reo mikage:

sometimes, contrary to what reo believes, he’s simply impulsive and childish in the face of love - excitedly posting a story of you and him at your favourite cafe, beaming at the way your hands merged with him so well - so well that he posted it to his main public account associated with both mikage corporation and his soccer career in manshine city where everyone witnessed it up for 12 hours before he wakes up to his PR calling him freaking out. to be honest, he thinks it shouldn’t be such a big deal right? its not as if the media hasn’t speculated over his relationship status for months now - from every little jewellery that fits perfectly onto his wrist, neck and fingers, from every visits to designer clothes store, to designer jewellery store, to designer shoe stores bringing out huge shopping bags that make his frame look petite in comparison, from every single photo he posts on his feed that they scruntised from the angle, to the place, to the clothes that seem to belong to a matching set somewhere somehow. its expected some thinks - he’s rich, he’s got a decent career, he’s charming both in looks and personality publicised in front of television for many to swoon over, there’s no way he isn’t taken just yet. but now, the focus that he’s so used to shifts to you, who’s only half a face is revealed but has gathered just as much attention a selfies he posts on social media at the request of his managers. and perhaps he now feels it - the jealousy that runs green at his heart as if its always been there tugging at the red muscle, and suddenly all he wants to do is to keep you in his treasure chest of things only he can have, keep you caged in his warm embrace like after practice forever, keep you safe away from the public side of the world that he’s practically born to face. but right at the same time, he wishes nothing more than to parade you in front of the world that he’s sure he loathes secretly in his heart, to share with the world of hte blessing that the world has given him in the bitter and harsh world, to express his love in the way he knows how to.

he thinks it was fate that he accidentally posted it on the wrong account, and who is he to go against the universe that have led you to him in this lifetime. and so, he posts a photo dump of you and him right on his main account - filled with pictures gathered and kept by him in his phone in a folder, whether that be a picture of you eating that sugary-sweet treat that he can still taste from the kiss he shared with you right after that photo, picture of you with him right after his first ever win in his career beaming ear-to-ear hat he looks at like its his lucky charm till this day, picture of you and him wearing that matching chikawa pajama at his apartment studying late into the night together for your finals together. and next time the reporter asks him, he doesn’t hesitate to profess his love of you to the world as though he’s waited his entire life to confess it out to the world.

nagi seishiro:

nagi seishiro is practically on the hunt list by paparazzis - infamously hard to capture on film not because of his bright white hair that seems to avoid flashes but rather that he rarely goes out of his apartment - and when he does, does the paparazzi goes crazy especially when he leaves his house on a blue moon, hands tangling with someone else’s. to him, it was just another day - dragged by you to go to wherever you want for the day that you surely deserve after sleeping over at his place for the past few days cramming for your assignments and whatnot in a quiet environment that just so happens to be his room whilst he lazes around in his bed playing his game with his earphones on glancing at you unbeknownst to you. it was supposed to be just another lunch date just like any others you’ve been with him, wearing whatever to go to your nearby cafe that practically recognises you and nagi and hides you at the corner booth where he first confessed to you out of pure impulse after seeing you chat excitedly about your interest with such passion he can’t help but feel his heart skip multiple beats at once. and yet here you both are giggling at the edits and theories his fans have came up with in defence against a dating rumour as you two lie on his bed, body practically melted together, limbs tangled with his — whether that be deeming you as his little sister that hes strangely close to, to deeming the photo as a breach of privacy, to deeming the photo as straight up edited. he thinks its sort of funny, isnt it clear you two are clearly together romantically? with his hands wrapped around yours that fits just right like a puzzle piece fitting into one another. his eyes glancing at you as though youre his entire world, his smile that rarely appears on his face as he listens to another of your passionate chats.

and he supposes he must be a pretty passive or straight up bad partner when on his next win, a reporter asks about you in such a demeaning and insulting way that ticks his brain the wrong way. he thinks its too much of a bother to get fired up, he thinks its useless to get all upset and red in the face, he thinks its only fools that let their emotion overtake them — yet its against that comment that he suddenly stands up that surprises his members, the reporters around and even the crowd, his mouth leaning onto the microphone that for the first time speaks of something other than mediocre and uninterested responses but the same passionate tone that he thinks you must be rubbing off him, announcing your relationship with him with nothing but love and pride in his voice. and maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t regret it and its no bother to defend you to the world - its you and him against the world anyways.

itoshi rin:

all of this started simply because of rin’s first win in the world cup - pulling at the promise ring attached to his necklace to kiss in celebration that went trending on social media. its not uncommon for football players to celebrate on field or have lucky charms - but for fans to see the logical and detached itoshi rin to indulge in such superstitious habits is unnerving, completely out of character of the cool and calm player that practically overwhelms the field completely. he doesn’t think much of it, youre his lucky charm anyways - every game he makes sure to kiss that polaroid of you that he took of you badly with your new digicam that is slightly blurry and slightly way too bright but he kisses that beam of yours anyways, every game he makes sure to hear that voice message of you wishing him luck in that cheery tone that just makes him replay it over and over until time is up and he practically runs out to the field for the game, and every game he makes sure to dedicate each and every step. kick, turn all to you. he doesn’t get why the reporters keep asking him the same old question - “are you dating someone?” the answer is obviously yes, but that doesn’t mean he can say it - whether it be due to his PR manager, whether that be due to not wanting the media in his personal life, whether that be simply to protect you from the spotlight. its irritating, standing under that spotlight as questions gets thrown at him again and again - all he can think about is you on the stand still waiting for him probably getting cold from the harsh and ruthless wind that your sweater might not be able to keep you warm despite it all, all he can think is the congratulationary kiss you give him after each game that melts both yours and his lips together that makes his entire face go uncharacteristically bright red and his eyes go wide, all he can think about is you so close to running off mid interview again like hes a spoiled child throwing a tantrum as the media described it just to see you a little earlier and spend a little more time with you rather than these irrelevant people. really, not even the harsh critics by the media and fans that compares him to a clone of his brother that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, not even his PR manager’s scoldings and nagging can deter him from running away from all of these to you, and hell hes sure not even if the world ended right in front him right now would he hesitate before running with all hes ever known, even faster than he runs during these matches to get to you, to at least kiss you once last time before you two turn into mash like those zombie movies that perhaps have gotten a little too into his head.

and he ticks his tongue again at that same question. are you dating someone? he sees you from the corner of his eye, walking away from the venue likely going to his car to get some warmth at least, and he cant stand to see you walk alone and so it leaves before he realises. “yes.” one word before he runs as though he’s back right into another life-or-death situation on the field. runs as though that is his only way of salvation, runs as though hes chasing after world - you. and its with you he thinks that he loses that logical and cold persona that everyone forces on him - because with you, hes just itoshi rin, your boyfriend and not any of the names the media and the world wants to throw on him whether positive of negative.

itoshi sae:

every time he goes back to japan, he swears his luck goes all the way down - first time where he goes home and finds out that his middle school had closed down where he went there the morning after, second time where he realises the convenience store he goes to closed down for the very week he was staying, and third time where he finds a photograph of him buying a ring for you going viral online. and he finds out when he sees you giggling hunched over on the other side of the red. his right side feels awfully ice cold without your arms wrapping around his body drooling in your sleep that he’s much more used to. if anything, he’s more surprised that youre awake - he doesn’t know what time it is, a stark contrast to him in spain that’s practically like a robot to the way he automatically wakes up at six on the dot and automatically does his exercise routine on auto pilot - all he knows is that its certainly too early for you to be leaving his side to laugh at god knows what. its only in your apartment that he gets to act all grumpy as though he’s back to been thirteen sleeping over at your house where he spends the night completely awake at your tight embrace on him as though he’s your plushie that’s now on the floor abandoned for his warmth and wakes up completely sleep-deprived that’s remedied by your bright grin. he doesn’t hesitate to turn a little to your side and snake his hands around your waist, his hands fitting right with your body, earning a flinch from you from his ice cold hands that contrasts with your warmth. its only then he realises his surprise has been completely spoiled - its not the only thing the media has pretty much put a dent in his life, constant comparison that drove a wedge deeper into him and his brother relationship, flip-flopping between praise and criticism of each and every of his gameplay on the field that makes him secretly doubt his own self that he doesn’t wish to admit, and now spoiling a surprise he was excited thinking of spending the two of your life together for the rest of eternity. your laugh clears any of the black cloudy joke that hazes over his mind with negative thoughts of self doubt, of insecurities, of irrational fear in your eyes, you don’t hesitate to hold him in your embrace, turning him back to his previous sleeping position - away from your phone, away from any distraction, away from the outside world. and he knows, he knows, even with that surprised spoiled, he’s sure you might just say yes to the diamond ring he still has kept in a dark red box right in his luggage tonight for a home-cooked dinner.

and he supposes he can give the media a glimpse of his life once in a while, playing the disappearance act for a few months as per usual before he posts a photo of you and him - draped in white cloth surrounded by white flowers with you and his friends and family at the side away from the camera, draped in jewelleries that he’s surprising not well-known to in the media that’s picky about the picture-perfect facade of itoshi sae that they have long decided on, draped in each others tugging at each other with nothing but love between both of you. in this world, its you and him whether or not with the media included or not, but he can’t help but to show you off to the world his angel can he?

[colouredbyd]

The Secret's Out

poly!marauders x fem!reader

summary: When a familiar red panda keeps appearing during full moons and stolen afternoons, the Marauders can't help but feel like they're being watched. But when a single accident unravels the truth, they discover that their elusive companion is much closer to their hearts than they realized.

warnings: fluff, animagus secrecy, fluffy moments, slow-burn tension, unspoken feelings, hints of angst, fluffy ending. technically part of a blurb series but can be read alone

w/c: 5k (this was supposed to be a drabble)

a/n: flicker is so <3

part of my mini blurb series Flicker's Adventures

masterlist

You weren’t exactly proud of how long you’d kept it hidden.

It had started as an experiment—an idea that had tumbled into your head after one too many late-night discussions with Remus about Animagi. He always talked about it with a sort of reverence, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the spines of dusty library books, eyes distant with the flicker of moonlight. You’d been enchanted with the idea. A secret shape. A second self. Something you could slip into like water, effortless and soft.

But you’d never intended for it to become…this.

The first time you transformed, it was clumsy and half-formed. Paws that didn’t quite fit right, ears that twitched with every sound, like you were listening to the whole world all at once. You barely managed to change back, sprawled out in the underbrush of the Forbidden Forest with twigs stuck in your hair and dirt smeared across your cheeks. But it got easier. Night after night, you practiced alone, curling up at the base of trees or darting between shadows, soft and silent.

It was thrilling. Until it wasn’t.

Because the Marauders, for all their brilliance and their utter inability to mind their own business, had a knack for being everywhere you weren’t supposed to be. And it was only a matter of time before the encounters began.

They had been your best friends since fourth year, and over time, things had shifted, melted, molded into something beautiful and far more complicated. Sharing breakfast meant pressing soft kisses to sleepy cheeks. Studying in the library meant James playing with your hair while Sirius sprawled with his head in Remus’s lap. It was easy, and you loved them fiercely, just as fiercely as they loved you.

But you had secrets too.

The first time, it had been easy to avoid them. You’d been curled up in your Animagus form, nestled atop a low branch near the Black Lake. The sun had been warm, and you’d let yourself drift, tail flopped lazily over the edge like a banner of red silk, swaying gently with each breeze that whispered through the treetops.

You had always loved transforming during the quiet hours. When the grounds were empty, and the lake shimmered under the light of the sun, it was your time to breathe—to be just a flicker of red in the trees, untethered and unseen. You’d never been caught before. Not once. You knew how to blend in, how to become nothing more than a flash of red fur and shadows. But that day, you’d let your guard down.

When the footsteps crunched over dead leaves, you barely had time to snap awake, your heart seizing with panic. You scrambled upright, claws gripping the bark as you peered through the thicket of branches. Just beyond the edge of the lake, James and Sirius barreled into view, laughing and tossing a Quaffle between them, voices carrying in that easy, careless way they always did. They were still dressed in their Quidditch uniforms, mud-splattered and windblown, clearly just back from practice. Their cheeks were flushed from the cold, eyes bright with that post-game adrenaline.

They looked almost painfully perfect in the sunlight. Sirius’s hair was wild, catching the light with every toss of his head, while James wore that familiar, untamed grin, glasses askew but somehow still perfectly him. You couldn’t help but watch, tucked away in the shadows, your tiny heart hammering as you watched them joke and shove at each other like children.

“What was that?”

James had stopped short, hand frozen mid-toss as his eyes squinted through the sunlight. He stepped forward, brow furrowing as he peered into the trees. “I swear I saw something.”

Sirius just laughed, clapping him on the shoulder with an exaggerated huff. “You’re losing it, love. Probably just a squirrel.”

“A red squirrel? That big? Nope.” James shook his head stubbornly, still squinting, his eyes scanning the thicket where you were tucked. You flattened yourself against the branch, curling your tail around your body like a shield. For a moment, your eyes locked with his, and you froze, heart leaping to your throat.

But Sirius had already moved on, still tossing the Quaffle back and forth as he wandered down the trail, oblivious. “C’mon, Prongs. We’re supposed to meet Remus and dovey at the library, remember? If you’re gonna start jumping at shadows, at least make it something interesting. Like a dragon.”

James huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he finally turned away. “You’re a menace, Pads.”

“Wouldn’t have me any other way.”

As they wandered away, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, claws still gripping the bark with tension. But then—

“Oi! Hold up,” Sirius called, suddenly pausing mid-step. He squinted back towards the tree you were nestled in. “You know, I’ve never seen something that red. Not even the squirrels.”

Before you could move, James stepped forward, eyes wide with wonder. “Holy shit. Siri, it’s… it’s adorable.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, stepping up beside him. His grin split wide, and before you could so much as twitch, his hand shot out and scooped you right off the branch. “Gotcha!”

You squealed—an embarrassing little chirp—and squirmed in his grasp, claws scrabbling against his arm, but Sirius only laughed. “Bloody hell, Jamie, look at it! What is it? Some kind of magical raccoon?”

James reached out, petting your head like you weren’t currently panicking, and cooed. “Nah, I think it’s some sort of fox. But not any kind I’ve seen before.”

You wriggled harder, desperate to get away, and with a burst of strength, you twisted right out of Sirius’s hands and shot off toward the trees. You heard their shouts behind you—“Merlin’s sake, it’s fast!”—and the pounding of footsteps as they tried to follow. But you were quick, darting between trunks and under bushes until their voices faded.

Panting, you finally stopped in the shadow of a tree, ears perked as you listened for them. From the distance, you heard Sirius laugh. “Like a bloody flicker of light. Fast as hell, did you see that?”

James’s voice was loud with awe. “We should name it. Something quick.”

“Flicker it is,” Sirius agreed, still laughing. “Wonder if we’ll see it again.”

You slumped back against the trunk, heart hammering but… strangely warmed. Flicker. If only they knew.

The second time you crossed paths with them, you weren’t so lucky.

It was a lazy Saturday morning, the air crisp with the promise of autumn, and you were in your Animagus form, sneaking your way towards the kitchens for a pilfered biscuit or two. You’d become somewhat of a regular visitor—house-elves didn’t seem to mind, and there was always something fresh and warm to snatch. This morning, it was shortbread, still steaming and dusted with sugar. You snagged a piece in your tiny paws, nibbling at the edges with a pleased hum.

Just as you were about to make your way back to the common room, a familiar set of voices echoed down the hall. You barely had time to scamper beneath a long, linen-draped table before James and Sirius strolled in, Remus trailing behind them, looking a bit more tired than usual. Sirius had his arm slung around James, animatedly describing some outrageous Quidditch maneuver while James nodded along, spinning his wand between his fingers.

“I’m just saying, I think it’s got to be a magical creature,” James insisted, flicking his wand absentmindedly so sparks danced at the tip. “Nothing else looks like that. That tail? Come on.”

Sirius chuckled, elbowing him in the ribs. “You’re just upset it didn’t stick around for tea.”

Remus, who had been quiet up to this point, raised an eyebrow. “You two are still on about that red thing?”

“Flicker,” James corrected, grinning like he’d just found a new species. “And yes. Pads said it himself—like a flicker of red. It’s the perfect name.”

Sirius gave a wicked grin, nudging Remus with his elbow. “Prongs nearly cried when it ran off. Thought he’d never see it again.”

“I did not cry!” James retorted, his face flushing. “I was just—invested. It’s not every day you find a creature that cute wandering the grounds.”

Remus hummed thoughtfully, but his lips twitched upward. “Maybe it’s someone’s familiar. Or just a stray. Magical creatures don’t usually stick around unless they’re attached to someone.”

James pouted. “But it was too cute to be random. And the way it just bolted—it was like it knew we were coming.”

Sirius laughed. “Maybe it’s smarter than you, James. Didn’t want to be manhandled by an overexcited Gryffindor.”

You couldn’t help the amused little chitter that slipped out, your small nose twitching as you watched them from the shadows. But your distraction made your paw slip, sending a nearby spoon clattering to the ground. Instantly, three heads snapped in your direction.

“Well, would you look at that,” Sirius drawled, eyes twinkling with delight. “Caught in the act.”

Your heart leapt into your throat as you scrambled backward, accidentally knocking over a pile of napkins in your haste.

Remus took a cautious step forward, eyes narrowing as he peered under the table. “Is that…?”

Before he could finish, you bolted out from beneath the table, biscuit still clutched between your teeth. You heard James yelp, and Sirius let out a loud bark of laughter.

“Flicker!” James shouted, immediately dropping to his knees to try and catch you. “Wait! It’s you!”

Sirius lunged for you as well, hands outstretched, but you twisted just in time, skidding around the table leg and darting towards the door. Your heart pounded, adrenaline surging as you made a break for it.

Remus was quicker than you expected. He sidestepped into your path, his hands moving down to scoop you up, but you ducked just in time, sliding beneath a nearby chair. He let out a soft chuckle, clearly more amused than upset. “I don’t think it wants to be caught, lads.”

James practically whined. “But it’s so fast! Merlin, how’s it moving like that?”

You made a daring leap onto a nearby shelf, perching precariously on the edge as you looked down at the boys. James and Sirius both looked up, wide-eyed, as if they’d never seen anything more precious.

Sirius grinned, hands on his hips. “Smart little thing. Knows how to stay out of trouble.”

James glanced at Remus, eyes bright. “Do you think we could tame it? I mean, if we brought it food or something…”

Remus shook his head, though he was smiling. “James, I don’t think ‘taming’ wild animals is advisable.”

Sirius snorted. “Especially when it’s faster than you, Prongs. You might have to start bribing it instead.”

You shifted your weight, trying to balance, but your grip slipped, and you tumbled right off the shelf—directly into Remus’s waiting arms. He caught you with surprising gentleness, blinking down at you in astonishment.

“Merlin’s beard,” he murmured, holding you carefully. “You’re… really soft.”

You froze, heart hammering as his thumb brushed over your fur. James crept closer, his face lighting up. “Moony! You caught it!”

Remus held you securely but didn’t squeeze, his touch far gentler than you’d expected. “It’s not trying to get away now. I think I scared it into submission.”

Sirius ruffled James’s hair, smirking. “Told you Moony’s got that calming effect. Even on weird little red animals.”

James’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know who would love this? Y/N. She’s always going on about how she wants a pet—imagine her with this little thing. She’d lose her mind.”

Sirius laughed, nodding in agreement. “Oh, absolutely. She’d probably carry it around everywhere. Spoil it rotten.”

Remus chuckled, glancing back down at you. “Maybe we should introduce them.”

Your tiny heart skipped a beat, the mention of your own name nearly making you squirm. But you stayed still, hoping that somehow, they’d let you go before they realized just how close they already were to the truth.

As they continued debating who got to hold you next, you remained perfectly still, your tiny heart racing. You’d nearly been caught—and worse, you were currently in Remus’s arms, with no safe escape. If they suspected anything, your secret would be out.

But for now, you stayed put, hoping that somehow, you’d manage to slip away before they figured it all out.

And somehow, you always did.

The encounters with the Marauders continued, flickering moments in the shadows of the castle grounds, the edges of the Forbidden Forest, even the cozy warmth of the Gryffindor common room on particularly stormy nights. They never figured out who—or rather, what—you truly were, and you never stopped watching over them from your tiny, furred form.

Over time, it became routine. They’d spot you darting across the courtyard or perched on a low branch, and instead of startling, they would wave you over with scraps of food and gentle hands. Sirius started smuggling bits of chocolate for you, swearing it was good for "keeping up your energy," while James would leave small pieces of toast wrapped in napkins where he knew you’d find them.

Remus, though, was different. He’d sit beside you sometimes, long after the others had wandered off, his eyes thoughtful and his voice low as he spoke about things that clearly weighed on him. It almost felt like he knew—like he sensed something familiar in the way you stayed close, unflinching and steady, when his voice cracked or his hands shook.

And so it went on, this quiet companionship between you and the Marauders—secrets nestled within secrets, hidden in plain sight.

But secrets, you knew, had a way of surfacing eventually.

And the thread of secrecy is thin—fraying at the edges, whispering of unraveling. Not all lies are meant to last.

You padded through the underbrush of the Forbidden Forest under the pale glow of the full moon, paws light against the damp earth. Countless times before, you had narrowly avoided discovery, slipping through shadows and ducking under roots before any of the boys could see you. But tonight felt different. Tonight, you were pressing your luck, and you knew it.

The forest stretched wide and endless around you, the scent of pine and moss clinging to the air. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting silver webs across the forest floor. You moved carefully, silent as the mist curling at your feet, ears perked for the familiar sound of paws and heavy footsteps.

Because Remus was out here somewhere—prowling, restless, and wild. And you were not supposed to be here.

But you always were.

It had become a ritual, almost. When the full moon crept up on the horizon, you would follow at a distance, paws treading softly through shadow and light, keeping him within your line of sight. You were careful—so careful—to stay hidden. To remain nothing more than a flicker of red fur between the branches, a whisper of movement in the dark.

You didn’t do it because you doubted him. Not really. Remus was strong, stronger than most gave him credit for. His quiet nature masked a resilience that ran deep, carved out from years of learning to live with the curse that twisted his bones beneath the light of the full moon. You had seen it in the way he carried himself: back straight, chin lifted, even when shadows pooled beneath his eyes and his hands shook just a little more as the days crept closer.

But you also knew the weight he carried, the way his shoulders slumped a little lower as the moon grew fuller. The others saw it too, though they masked their worry with jokes and banter, their own kind of armor against the ache of helplessness.

You trusted Sirius and James. Of course you did. You trusted the way Sirius, with his sleek fur and boundless energy as Padfoot, stuck close to Remus's side. His massive form hovered protectively near, always ready to intercept any threat. And you trusted James, with his proud and unyielding presence as Prongs. His antlers cut through the shadows like moonlit knives, always circling, always watching. They were a seamless unit, fierce and unwavering, guarding their boyfriend with an intensity that rivaled the very stars.

But even so, you followed. Not because you feared they would fail him, but because you knew that sometimes even the fiercest protectors could not hold back the tide. You followed because you understood the way Remus's breaths came out ragged and sharp when the change began, the way his eyes, so often warm and gentle, burned with something uncontainable under the weight of the moon.

You followed not out of fear, but out of love. You needed to see it for yourself, needed to know that he was not alone. Because some secrets, even the best-kept ones, are born from the deepest affections.

You weren’t even supposed to be here. The full moon wasn’t exactly a secret—not to you, not to the boys, not to anyone who paid attention to Remus Lupin’s mysterious disappearances every month. And while Remus had been open about it with you—raw and vulnerable in a way that made your heart ache—Sirius and James had insisted you stay far, far away from the Forest during transformations. For your own safety, they said. For his.

They didn’t know that you had a secret of your own. They didn’t know you were perfectly capable of watching over Remus without the risk of getting torn apart. Because, well…they didn’t know you were an Animagus. And certainly not a red panda of all things.

But you’d always been stubborn, and you hated being shut out. So, here you were, paws barely making a sound against the forest floor, your tiny body slipping between shadows as you followed the familiar scent of musk and pine.

Tonight was different, though. The moon hung heavy and full, casting its silver light over the trees as you crept towards the edge of the Shrieking Shack, your heart pounding in your tiny chest. You had watched the transformation from the shadows, hidden and silent, waiting for the chaos to subside. It always did—eventually.

The howls had stopped. That was your sign.

Cautiously, you scurried through the cracks of the shack, slipping inside just as the silence grew thicker, heavier. Remus was there, sprawled out on the dusty wooden floor, still shivering from the aftermath of the transformation. His skin was pale, marred with fresh cuts and old scars, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to catch his breath.

You stayed hidden at first, tucked away in the shadowed corner of the room, watching with a quiet intensity. You were careful, always careful, as you slipped in unnoticed. The silence between your breaths stretched long as you waited. You needed to see him again. To be sure. He was okay. Alive. The simple reassurance of that truth was always the reason you came. It didn’t matter how many times you had witnessed it before, you still found yourself drawn here, drawn to him, like some unspoken promise you couldn’t shake. And yet, even after all this time, you still couldn’t quite bring yourself to let go of the gnawing fear that one day, it would all be gone. That one day, it would be too late.

And then it happened.

A small movement in the corner of your vision—the slightest shift in the air. You turned your head sharply, eyes narrowing. It was quick. A fleeting blur that seemed far too deliberate for your liking. Something so small, but still enough to spike your pulse with a jolt of panic. You froze, your eyes darting from one shadow to the next, until the source of the movement became clear. A spider—its legs long and thin, its body barely a shadow against the worn wooden floor. You held your breath for a second, staring at the creature as it crept closer with an eerie calm.

Even in your Animagus form, the instinct was immediate. Fear licked at the back of your throat, and before you could even stop yourself, a sharp, startled squeak escaped your lips. The sound was completely unexpected, startling even to you. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, and within seconds, you sprang backward, your claws scraping desperately against the wooden floorboards in an effort to distance yourself. The panic that washed over you was raw, unfiltered. Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as adrenaline surged, your muscles tensing in reflex.

“...Flicker?” Sirius’s voice was the first to break the tension, disbelief coloring every syllable. His eyes were wide as he stared at you, sprawled out on the floor, fur still fluffed up from the fright.

James was next, practically stumbling over his own feet as he stepped forward, his expression a mixture of confusion and disbelief. “What the bloody hell is Flicker doing here?!” His voice was sharp, edged with that familiar note of exasperation that you knew all too well.

The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment, everything going unnaturally still as his words hung in the air.

You froze, your entire body tensing at the sound of his voice, wide-eyed and terrified. Every instinct screamed at you to retreat, to disappear, to vanish back into the shadows where it was safe. But it was too late. There was no hiding now. The room had shifted, all eyes now on you, and you could feel their gazes like physical weight pressing down on your fur. Panic rose in your chest, tightening around your throat like a vise.

Before you could react, Remus, still lying on the floor, managed to crack open one eye. Even in his obvious pain, there was something in his gaze—softness, tenderness—that cut through the whirlwind of panic in your mind. 

His lips parted in a slow, weak smile, and the warmth in his voice was unmistakable, soothing against the raw nerves coursing through you. “Hey… come here,” he murmured, his voice rough but somehow gentle. Despite his struggle to move, his hand patted the floor beside him in invitation. “Can’t really move right now.”

The sound of his voice, that calming familiarity, reached you with a force far greater than the fear clawing at your insides. You hesitated, your ears twitching nervously, unsure of whether you should give in to that pull. But something about the way he looked at you—something in the way his eyes softened, the faintest glimmer of affection and understanding—made it impossible to refuse. 

With careful, deliberate steps, you padded over to him, your paws light against the floor, though your heart pounded wildly in your chest. When you reached him, you curled up beside him, careful not to press too heavily against his wounded form. 

The space between you felt like a bridge you couldn’t quite cross fast enough, yet as soon as you were near, you felt his hand rest gently on your back. The touch was so light, so tender, it might have been a dream if it weren’t so real. You could feel his fingers brush against your fur, grounding you with every small movement.

James and Sirius, for all their confusion, exchanged bewildered looks across the room. They hadn’t expected this.

The air in the room grew thick with tension, all eyes still on you as you remained curled beside Remus, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. You tried to steady your breathing, but it was impossible. You could feel the weight of their stares, the confusion swirling between them like a storm just waiting to burst.

And then Remus chuckled. It was low, raspy, and yet the sound was warm, full of affection and something else—something that made your pulse skip. He turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours. For a moment, everything seemed to pause.

“I know it’s you,” he murmured, his voice soft but just loud enough for you to hear. There was no uncertainty in his tone, no hesitation. Only understanding. “You don’t have to keep hiding.”

The words felt like a shock to your system. Your breath caught in your throat. What? You stared at him, wide-eyed, your mind racing. How could he possibly know? How long had he known? You were about to ask, but before you could form the words, the rest of the room seemed to catch up to what Remus had said.

James blinked, his face a perfect picture of disbelief. “Wait… what?”

Sirius’s jaw dropped, his eyes narrowing in confusion and a growing sense of disbelief. “What do you mean? Know what?”

Remus laughed softly, a sound so full of warmth and knowing it almost made you want to shrink back into yourself. “Come on,” he whispered, giving a slight nod toward you, a knowing smile curling at the corner of his lips. “Reveal yourself.”

The room fell utterly still. The air crackled with that charged silence, the kind that comes just before something explosive happens. You hesitated, every nerve in your body on edge. The tension in the room was palpable, thick as smoke. For a moment, you thought you might be able to remain hidden, to stay in the safety of your animagus form, but Remus’s eyes were so full of trust, so full of that deep, quiet affection, that you couldn’t refuse him. Not now.

You took a shaky breath. You stepped back, slowly, tentatively, your paws scraping against the wood floor with every hesitant movement. And then, in one fluid motion, you transformed. Fur and claws gave way to skin and hands. The change was swift, almost disorienting, but before you knew it, you were standing before them, fully human, exposed, and vulnerable.

You could feel their eyes on you, wide and unblinking, trying to process the impossible. Remus's soft smile never wavered, his gaze warm and steady, a silent reassurance amid the storm of emotions swirling around you.

James was the first to break the silence, blinking as if trying to clear water from his eyes. “Merlin’s bloody beard! Flicker’s—You’re—” His voice pitched somewhere between awe and shock, hands still raised mid-gesture as if he had been frozen in time.

Sirius was not much better off. His jaw had practically hit the floor, his eyes impossibly wide. “That’s…how did…since when?!” His voice was high and incredulous, disbelief painting every syllable. His gaze flickered between you and Remus, a hundred questions bubbling just under the surface.

You stood there, cheeks flushed and heart thumping wildly, hands fiddling with the edge of your shirt. It felt surreal to be standing in front of them, exposed and vulnerable after months of hiding. You turned your gaze to Remus, the only one who seemed entirely unfazed. His eyes were gentle, crinkling at the corners as he regarded you with a sort of fondness that set your heart alight.

“Ever since you fell into my arms in the kitchen,” he said, voice soft and rich with nostalgia. “I smelled you. Even then, I knew.” His hand reached out, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, grounding you back into reality.

James let out a strangled laugh, half-disbelieving and half-amazed. “You mean this whole time…?”

Sirius’s eyes snapped back to Remus, his shock melting into something sharper. “Wait. Wait. You knew?” His voice grew louder, more animated. 

Remus blinked, a hint of a smile still playing on his lips. “Didn’t seem like the right moment to bring it up.”

Sirius’s expression turned comically affronted, his hands flying to his hips. “Not the right moment? Not the—Remus John Lupin, I am going to throttle you.” Without warning, Sirius dove at him, tackling Remus to the floor with surprising gentleness, considering his usual recklessness. Remus let out a soft grunt, half-laughing, half-protesting as Sirius pinned him down, grinning like a madman.

“Sirius!” he groaned, shaking his head, though there was affection in his tone. “I’m in pain, you know?”

But Sirius didn’t seem to care about that. He hovered over Remus, eyes gleaming with that mischievous glint you knew all too well. “You absolute bastard!” Sirius crowed, shaking him playfully. “You kept this from me? From us? Moony, we share everything! I tell you when I find a new freckle on my arse, but you can’t tell me Flicker is our darling girl?”

Remus chuckled, not bothering to fight back, his eyes crinkling with mirth. “You seemed happy enough with her as she was,” he teased, a glimmer of affection lighting up his gaze. “Didn’t want to ruin the magic.”

Remus’s laugh died down slightly as he met Sirius’s gaze, his expression turning a little more serious, though still soft. “I knew,” he admitted, voice quieter now, though it was filled with warmth. “I could smell it. I’m not just a werewolf, you know. My senses are… sharper than most.” He shifted slightly under Sirius, wincing as a wave of exhaustion hit him. “I’ve known ever since that night in the kitchen. And I just… I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

Sirius, still hovering over him, raised an eyebrow. “A big deal? You kept this secret from me?” He gave Remus a playful shove, trying not to be too rough, but clearly finding the whole thing ridiculous. “Moony, you are a tease. But I guess you’re lucky I love you.”

Remus smiled up at him, his eyes soft with affection despite his exhaustion. “Lucky for me, then,” he whispered, reaching up to gently cup Sirius’s cheek.

James, who had been listening in, finally seemed to process what Remus had said. His face broke into a grin, and he shook his head in disbelief. He stepped forward, shaking his head in disbelief, though his smile was growing by the second. 

“Unbelievable. I’ve been feeding you bits of toast under the table for months,” he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. “You let me make a bloody fool of myself!”

Sirius finally released Remus—though not before ruffling his hair mercilessly—and turned his attention back to you. His eyes softened, grin turning fond. 

“Well, that explains why Flicker’s always been so damn cute. No wonder you were my favorite,” he said, stepping forward and wrapping you up in his arms without warning. You let out a squeak of surprise, but Sirius just squeezed you tighter, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Our girl, huh? Been sneaking around all fluffy and adorable while we’ve been pouring our hearts out to you.”

James joined in, throwing his arms around both of you with a laugh. “I’ve been whispering my Quidditch strategies to you! Telling you all my secrets. Oh, you’ve played us brilliantly, haven’t you?”

You were laughing now, the sound spilling out of you unbidden and light, your hands curling into the fabric of their shirts as you squeezed back. “I didn’t mean to deceive you!” you giggled. “You were just…so sweet to me. I didn’t want it to end.”

Sirius scoffed, pulling back just enough to look at you, his hands still firm on your shoulders. “End? Are you joking? Now I get to sneak you bits of bacon and call it romance. You’ve upgraded our relationship, darling.”

James snorted, leaning back to ruffle your hair. “Honestly, it just makes me love you more. You absolute minx.” His hands found your waist, pulling you back into his chest with a grin. “And here I thought you just liked curling up in my lap because you were a needy little furball.”

Sirius gasped dramatically. “Wait, wait. This means…you heard everything, didn’t you?” He pulled back, eyes wide with a mix of horror and amusement. “All those times I talked to you about Moony and Prongs…oh, Merlin, I’m going to need to lie down.”

Remus, still sprawled on the floor, chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows. “You did tell her quite a bit,” he mused, raising an eyebrow at Sirius. “I was starting to wonder if you were sweet on our little Flicker.”

Sirius rolled his eyes but grinned shamelessly. “Oh, I am. And now I don’t have to feel weird about it.” He scooped you back into his arms, spinning you around once just for good measure before setting you down, his hands never leaving your waist. “I think this calls for a celebration. Butterbeer in the common room?”

James raised his hand. “And toast! For old times’ sake,” he added with a grin. “I’ve been feeding you scraps like you were some little stray, and it was you all along.”

Sirius chuckled, threading his arm around your waist as Remus finally got to his feet. “Merlin, I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Human or red panda, you’re ours. No more sneaking off, yeah?”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of their affection wrap around you like a blanket. “No more sneaking off,” you promised, and the three of them pulled you into their embrace, laughter and warmth spilling out into the room.

And for the first time, you didn’t feel the need to hide.

[ditzydoe444]

cute drabble with jason todd

౨ৎ⠀ׄ⠀. ━ jason todd is the type of man to follow you like a lost puppy

cw: pure fluff, not proof read

it first started with his childhood, being abandoned and all alone when he was convinced that he was unlovable. it didn’t stop when he grew older, sympathetic looks from strangers as he walked past them on the street, their gaze lingering on his scarred hands.

then he met you, the girl with the kindest and purest of hearts that saw past his scars and saw him. you saw every aspect, every experience that shaped him to who he was now. you saw the child who has no support, no love. you saw the man who basically deprived himself of anything worth while because he didn’t think that he deserved it.

you made live worth living for him.

at first he was worried that you could go, something so good and beautiful in his life was sure to disappear. so he followed you, he walked you to work everyday, and accompanied you in your grocery shopping. some thought it was concerning, maybe annoying, including your friends. but you didn’t care, instead it was nice to have someone to talk to. at times jason felt like an awkward teenager pinning over his crush, stuttering slightly and blushing like a mad mad.

it didn’t stop when the two of you started dating. he would blush over the smallest bit of affection, but would never let you out of his sight. he was always touching you, playing with your hair, adjusting your dress or having a protective hand on your back.

suddenly he didn’t seem to mind the late night shifts as long as he came home to you cooking. he didn’t mind that he had to wake up in the cold winter morning because he had your body pressed up against his. he didn’t mind eating dinner in his shitty apartment because he had your rambling to listen to.

he found himself taking the shorter route home, his steps just a little bit quicker just to see you. the moment he walked through the door he kicked his boots off before wrapping his arms around you. he could complain about how much he missed you, snuggling deep inside the crook of your neck inhaling your familiar scent.

jason never bought anything just to splurge, but now? he would come home with your favourite bouquet of flowers, your favourite chocolate or a cute plushie that reminded him of you.

[writingbluerose]

TWST DRABBLE #19

Ace and Deuce who are your friends, and the only ones that call you by your name

You've been Prefect for so long, you quickly realized no one would see you as nothing else but that. It's always 'Hey Prefect!' 'Can you help with me this Prefect?' 'How are you Prefect?' You got used to it faster though, after all, if it's at least Grim and the ghosts who call you by your name that's more than enough for you

Until that night

The day someone else saw you for something else but the oh so attentive Prefect you always were, and those, were your first friends

Ace and Deuce always stuck to you, even more after the abandoned mine incident, you've soon come to realize that that was the starting point of your friendship. But at first, they were the same as others : when you stepped on those rusty stairs of the Ramshackle dorm in the warm morning, you always heard the same thing : “Mornin' Prefect!” and it had been like that for a long while, the name that was bestowed upon you was the only thing that came out of their mouths ; Until it wasn't

You don't remember when it started, sometime perhaps after a short while of the second overblot happening maybe. You took that a little harder than Riddle's ( speaking of which, who was attentive to you and looked out for you to be in your best health ) and had gained a scar thanks to Leona's powerful unique magic. You had forgave him though, ( as much as you could ) that's what you always did, forgive and forget, after all, even Crowley said so himself 'It is better that way! Holding grudges does nothing to satisfy you!' so he said

One night, you were sitting with the two in the living room of the dorm, Grim snoozing away on the couch you were all sitting in front of, in a warm makeshift tent, with pillows, lights and whatever else you could find around. Nothing could be heard in the room except the laughs and chatting of the three of you. Ace and Deuce were having a blast, you were tired, but you never let it show, after all, this time was precious for all of you, you were friends were you not? that's what you think after all, even if it might not be true. Their voices started getting muffled and your vision got blurry, were you falling asleep or simply just passing out from exhaustion? You didn't know, maybe these two overblots really did leave a mark that went deeper than you thought

It was when you heard a voice did you snap out of it, a call, something you never thought you'd hear while in this unknown world “Hey, Y/N you okay? You seem out of it” A warm hand on your shoulder “If you want to sleep we don't blame you, after all there's no way these overblots didn't leave a mark. We'll be quiet, promise” It took you a few seconds to register the words, and after you did it was the first time you felt it “Hey!-wh- why are you crying!? Did we say something wrong?!” Deuce was the first one to react, a funny reaction, you'd laugh if you could, Ace was second, as he shifted over to you and patted you on your back“Hey Y/N it's okay, we understand, we got you, you can let it out” Again that damned name of yours, did they really saw you as something else but the Prefect who cleans up after everything and everyone? Were they true friends? Will they stay?

And after you felt their warm bodies close to yours, hugging you tight, you realized that yes, they will stay, you know they will

© writingbluerose 2025

[intromortal]

ꕥ MAKE YOU MINE ⸝⸝⸝ lee heeseung

lee heeseung doesn't do relationships or any of that 'labels' stuff, it's a known fact. yet when jay's gaze lingers too long on you, he can't help but leave his mark on you in one way or another

this work contains ⋆ smut. mdni. jealousy, p in v, creampie, no protection, manhandling, name calling, degradation!!! hair pulling, mean hee won't kiss you, kinda toxic situationship thing going on, Feelings, reader is kinda crazy but also i've had too much caffeine today So ⸻ rules ⋆ m.list

length ⋆ drabble ⸻ 1.8k words

Heeseung, all things considered, is a pretty chill and laid back guy. Not prone to big displays of jealousy, especially anywhere public.

Most of the time he's quietly laying back on a couch at a party across the room, watching you with a glint in his eyes as you reject yet another guy trying to sneak his way into your pants. There’s something about the way you so obediently glance his way every time someone tries to flirt you, how your expression ever so slightly shifts to something he would describe as needy when he slouches further into the soft brown cushions, legs spread almost as if to invite you over on his lap.

It’s been months since you started fucking, and as embarrassing for you as it feels to admit, you two haven't really put a label on what your... status actually is. You’re definitely more than friends—though you don't know if you would even consider Heeseung your friend in the first place—but you also don't believe you're anywhere close to being a thing yet. That litter sliver of something keeps you fucking hooked on Heeseung though, even when you know it's terrible for you.

And he enjoys every second of it. How you're so loyal to him even when he doesn't give you any reason to be.

He’s confident you'll follow him around everywhere like a little lost puppy as long as he keeps feeding you whatever crumb you need; a gentle brush of his hand whenever he greets you, a soft compliment whispered in your ear before leaving you to find something to drink, a sweet forehead kiss at the end of the night when you've both found your way between the bed sheets. I’ve got it under control, he thinks.

Yet he can't find any explanation—one that he’d make peace with, that is—for the scorching rage that overcomes him whenever he sees you and your bestie walking hand in hand around campus. The slightest twitch to his eye when he notices how bright you seem to be around Jay, how hard you laugh at his jokes and how touchy you are, shoving his shoulder away when he makes a stupid comment, yet letting your hand linger on the cotton of his shirt. There’s a different light coming from within you when he's around, and Heeseung fucking hates it with his entire being.

Mostly because he doesn't want to admit what it really is. Lee Heeseung is the furthest thing from a relationship-kind-of-guy you could possibly ever find, and it's always been this way, everyone knows.

To fuck with him is to make peace with the fact that you'll never be anything more than someone to warm his bed—or car backseats more often than not. And most are okay with that as long as they get their hands on a piece of him, no matter for how short. You were okay with that too, at the very start. It just doesn't help that lately he has fucked you like he loves and hates you at the same time, and while you try your best to not let his empty calculated affections tie you down to him too much, it's gotten harder and harder to escape the literal black hole Heeseung is.

You promised yourself to only orbit around him for a bit, then escape at the first pull you feel is too strong. But here you are, on the event horizon anyway.

His lingering stares whenever Jay is around don't go unnoticed by you, far from it actually. And maybe you even play into it a little too much, because here you are, underneath Heeseung, and for the first time in weeks he's fucking you like love is the furthest feeling possible from both his mind and heart.

It's funny, how he's tried to maintain his cool around you so desperately, and what finally breaks him is Jay staring way too long at your ass for it to be a mistake. There’s nothing Heeseung would have loved more than to beat him to a pulp, for looking at his girl like that.

Except you're not his girl—he hadn't even realized he really wanted you to possibly be until then—so he can't do that. But what he can do instead is take it out on your poor unsuspecting pussy.

"You are such a nasty slut," he whispers against your lips as he pistons into your weeping cunt, ignoring every attempt you make to kiss him, biting down on your bottom lip when you don't catch the hint. "Walking around in that tight black skirt, for what?" It feels like he's spitting venom at you, a primal edge to his tone unlike anything you've ever heard from him. Despite everything, you'd be lying if you said it didn't make your pussy clamp even harder around him, trying to milk his girth for all it’s worth.

You take too long to reply for his liking, his hand digging almost hurtfully into your cheeks to force you to look at him. "For. What?"

"I– fuck, i don't know."

He looks at you incredulously, like you must've gone dumb on his cock already, while his movements come to halt, despite your little cries and begs for him not to.

"Yes, you fucking do," he spits, grabbing your thighs and flipping you over onto your knees. A little scream rips out of you at the sudden motion as he manhandles you in whatever way he wants, paying no mind to any possible aching body part of yours or any discomfort you may feel. "Wore it to flaunt this ass around, didn't you? I know you did."

He lands a harsh smack on the skin of your bottom, kissing his teeth in annoyance when your entire body jerks forward, front collapsing on the bed. He eases his cock back into you in one thrust, setting a pace that is somehow faster and harsher than the one you could barely keep up with earlier. "Wanted  Jay to bend you over like this, huh?"

"N-no! I– ngh." Your rebuttal is cut short by his hips slamming into yours with a harsh thrust, his thick hand pushing your head against the sheets, uncaring of all the drool that's dripping from your mouth, your eyes rolling into your skull. He plants one of his feet into the soft mattress, the new angle helping him reach so much deeper inside you as the hold on your hips becomes nearly unbearable, sure to leave a flashy bruise.

Good, he thinks. Let everyone know I own you.

It doesn't matter that you two will still not put a label on whatever you have going on after this, Heeseung will find a way to mark you up with his actions instead. He'll fuck you so good even in the off chance you give Jay a chance all you'll think about is gonna be going back to him right after.

"Oh, shut the fuck up." He grabs some of your hair, using it as leverage to fuck into you even harder, the mix of pain and pleasure so unbelievably delicious you don’t even know what to do with yourself if not just lay there and take it all. "That’s all a slut like you is good for anyway, shut her mouth and let me use her pretty pussy as I please."

And it doesn't matter for you either you realize, a fucked out smile spreading on your face as he takes you like he has never done before, because to get a reaction out of the ever so collected Lee Heeseung, it means you have made him your bitch as much as he has made you his. He just doesn't know it yet.

The sudden thought is so euphoric it pushes you close to the edge instantly, your cunt clenching around him more and more while Heeseung is behind you wondering why he just heard a giggle leave your throat in the midst of it all.

"Is this some kind of fucking joke to you?" His voice is rough, but the hint of uneasiness behind the facade is easy to pick up on, it only spurs you to laugh more—as much as you can manage, because soon his thrusts get angrier and you don't know if you're laughing, crying or moaning anymore.

You taste the salty tears running straight into your open mouth, and you don't exactly know why you're crying because you have never felt lighter, even with the harsh, repeated press of Heeseung's hips against your red, marked up flesh.

Heeseung thinks you must've gone delirious on his cock, the proof being the very white ring you're leaving on the base of his cock, and while his chest blooms and tickles with something unfamiliar to him, he can't help but want even more. He wants to give you even more.

He doesn't recall when this punishment he's inflicting on you turned around to him chasing your approval so fucking bad, but he can't stop. He can't stop himself from gawking at your bent back littered in his marks, he can't stop himself from bending down to mouth at your neck when all he initially wanted to do was put you back in your place, he can't stop himself from letting his hand find your familiar little bundle of nerves to roll circles on it.

He tells himself it's not for you, it's for him, so he can hear all the divine noises you're making for just a little longer, just enough to reach his orgasm.

His lips brush your nape again, and he wishes he hadn't turned you over so he could taste your laugh right off your lips. He almost opens his mouth to say something he might regret, but he stops himself with a low, guttural moan and a stripe licked on your skin instead.

Neither of you last long after that, and you come with shudder around him, cunt milking him for all he has, all he is worth. He gives it all to you, filling you up so well it has you clawing the sweaty bed sheets beneath you.

You're glowing underneath him as he gets off of you, and Heeseung doesn't want to linger on the fact that his chest cavity, where his heart is supposed to be, glows just as much for you. It's a scary thought.

"You're mine," you whisper, like you've finally cracked the code to something you couldn't wrap your head around for the longest. You state it like a fact, like how you do when you say things commonly agreed upon—like the earth being round and Sim Jaeyun having the prettiest dick on campus.

You don't turn to Heeseung when he says nothing after and all that fills the room is the swooshing of his clothes being collected from the floor and your front door shutting with a soft thud.

It doesn't matter, because whether he likes it or now, you know he has nowhere to go if not back to you.

[spaceyaemonds]

If this fic took place before the show it so would be the interns being like "oh who's she?"

Like she brings the baby for a ear infection or something at the end of abbots shift and the interns are like "aww is that grand baby abbot"

Until the baby goes "dada" at jack and then they all start doing math 😭

hi friend!!!

ahhhhh!!! okay okay a small little drabble under the cut!! also, I gave baby girl a name, but she will mostly be referred to as bug!

Your poor girl is crying her little eyes out as Dr. King and the guy who introduced himself as “just Whitaker” attempt to assess her.

It’s just an ear infection, you know it’s just an ear infection. But your poor baby is screaming her little lungs out and it’s just breaking your heart.

You should have called Jack. You should have called him the second her temp spiked back up even a little.

Honestly, you’re surprised he isn’t in here yet, or that Perlah or Dana haven’t come by to see her.

Dr. King finally takes pity on the four of you and hands her back, “I think you’re right, it does appear to just be an ear infection, but I’d like to have a senior resident or one of our attendings look her over, just to be safe,”

You nod, gently shushing your girl as she clings to your neck, cries finally quieting down.

“Whitaker, I’m going to try to go find Dr. Robby or Collins, can you wait here with them?”

Whitaker knows she isn’t really asking, but glances awkwardly in your direction before nodding, “I’ll make sure that her chart gets updated,”

Dr. King quickly leaves the room, and Whitaker pulls her chart back up on the tablet.

“Why are you not called Dr. Whitaker?”

He glances back up at you, smiling softly, “Well, I’m still just a med student, I haven’t, uh, earned the title yet,”

You nod, not fully understanding but smiling back at him nonetheless as he goes through her chart.

“Layne Abbot? Are you two related to Dr. Abbot?” His eyebrows raise up at you in question, and you bite your lip to hide the smirk creeping up.

“Something like that,”

Whitaker smiles again slightly, “Should I go get him? I’m sure he’ll want to know that his granddaughter is here,”

He says the worst thing at the absolute worst time.

Jack saw Layne’s name on the board while leaving trauma one, and wasted no time getting to the room the two of you were in, ready to question why the fuck you didn’t call him, when instead he hears Whitaker calling his daughter his granddaughter.

Bug must sense him, or hears the scoff he lets out when he hears the garbage that leave Whitaker’s mouth, because her eyes instantly find his.

And because as much as she loves her mommy, nothing compares to her daddy, those pretty eyes that mirror yours have tears welling right back up in them, and a small whimper of “daddy,” quickly leaves her mouth.

Whitaker thinks he wants to die as he watches the attending that typically works night shifts quickly but gently take the baby from you.

He looks between the two of you, face flushing as he tries to stammer something, anything out.

“Whitaker.”

“Yes, Dr. Abbot?” He winces at the way his voice sounds.

“Go find Robby and tell him my kid has an ear infection,” Jack doesn’t leave room for argument, not that Whitaker would in the current moment.

Whitaker quickly takes his leave, and Jack turns to you instantly, “Honey, why didn’t you call?”

You frown, brave face finally leaving you as tears well up in your own eyes, “She wouldn’t stop crying, and I got really scared when her fever came up again. I didn’t want to waste time calling and rushed here. I didn’t think it would take that long for you to realize we were here and then she wouldn’t stop crying in here,”

Jack takes his free hand and runs it through your hair, “You’re okay, honey. It’s okay,”

Looking down at his other girl, he kisses the side of her head, “You’re okay too, baby,”

Dr. King comes back in a minute later with Dr. Robby and Dr. Santos trailing behind her, stopping mid step once she sees you clinging to Jack’s left side and your daughter clinging to his right.

Santos’ own eyes widen slightly, looking to Dr. King for an answer.

“Ma’am, I didn’t realize you know Dr. Abbot,”

Robby steps around the two of them, “If the last name of our patient didn’t give it away, the listed father on her medical chart should have, Dr. King,”

[gojoest]

URGES — gojo satoru

MDNI, pregnancy freak!satoru, f!reader, established relationship (married), reader is pregnant, public sex (in the train, but it’s just the tip), reader is going through hormonal changes that cause a very high sex drive + wears a dress, unprotected sex, pet names (sweetness), wc: 1.3k, dividers by @/cafekitsune

a/n: i implemented the ideas suggested by @/tapiocakisses & @/cherriel0v3r into this drabble, big thank you <3

Satoru adores every bit about your pregnancy.

Certainly, his favorite thing about it is the baby bump that had slowly started forming — all because it is the most unambiguous sign that you belong to someone.

Surely, he also likes to put his hands on your belly. He places them on top when you sit together, rubs it softly, or gently shields it with his palm as you walk down the street while his other hand firmly sits at the small of your back — after all, this is the most unambiguous sign that you belonged to him, because not just any man would walk around touching a pregnant woman like that.

Not just any man, but the father himself.

But recently, there is another aspect of your pregnancy that he had grown extremely fond of — almost addicted, in fact, to the point he thinks he won’t be able to live any other way once this “side effect” subsides.

High sex drive…

…which comes as a result of increased hormonal shifts in your body, causing an abysmal spike in your libido. Thus meaning, you keep him quite busy.

These arousal outbursts occur at random times of the day, and Satoru is always ready to deliver — even if it means making regular stops at home during work hours (a few times a day) or ending a mission in an abrupt and brutal manner (unnecessary hollow purpling curses left and right that otherwise could’ve been handled with less effort).

It is all for a good cause — he needs to take care of his pregnant wife.

Sometimes you’d wake him up in the middle of the night, pawing at his cock, sweetly and innocently asking him to fuck you.

The blood has never rushed faster to his groin before. In all honesty, those are the times he struggles with his self-restraint because you drive him absolutely nuts with a single word, and the fact that you need him this bad, so bad that you’re already wet down there between your legs — and he can smell it, so bad that you wake him up rubbing your thighs together asking for his cock because your fingers aren’t good enough to reach certain spots… messes with his head oh so terribly. If you weren’t in this fragile, pregnant state, he’d pin you down nasty and fuck the living hell out of you until you pass out.

He thinks to himself, that once the child is born the first thing he’ll do is fuck your brains out in the most obscene of positions that weren’t suitable during the pregnancy and take his pent-up frustration from holding back his stroke game out on that pretty cunt of yours. Well, until he knocks you up all over again.

…because he wants to keep you pregnant and needy for him, all the time.

Until then, he’ll fuck you tenderly. Sometimes with just the tip…

…as you so happen to be in public — in the train, on your way to visit the zoo during one of his rarely free days, when your urges just so happened to kick in. Again.

Even though, he fucked you good before leaving the house. Pretty sure his cum is still staining the inner of your panties even — the panties that are now slid to the side as you’re backed against one of the corners of the train where it’s relatively secluded, with your husband standing before you holding the hem of your dress up and high enough to access what’s underneath. His pants undone but still intact around his legs, it’s just the zipper that is down for his cock to be out and the tip prodding in your cunt.

It’s a good thing that he’s a big man and that his frame can cover the entirety of you once he is in front of you, so that people entering or leaving the wagon wouldn’t witness the obscenity beyond him. Fortunately, all they see is the huge, broad back of a tall, well-built man. And, well, a pair of smaller feet that could be spotted through his spread lower limbs, that is, if you looked down.

“Shh—“, cupping your cheek with his free hand Satoru quietly hushes you, tracing his index finger over your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut, moving your hips slightly to swallow more of him inside you, and not just the tip. “I don’t want other people to hear the sweet noises you make, they’re for my ears only, okay?”

His finger moves away from your mouth, giving way for his lips to seal them instead. Because he knows that you won’t listen to him. You never do. And he really can’t make peace with the possibility of someone catching on to your voice. Not because you’d be busted fucking in broad daylight, inside of a train of all places. But because, that voice you make when his cock is inside you? It’s really just for him to hear and keep.

“Please, sweetness— just whisper your moans to me, in my ear only”, he mumbles against your lips, just barely breaking the kiss so he could beg for you to keep it down. Growing concerned on what he could possibly do if someone were to actually hear you.

“Nghh—”, you pant into him, incoherent. Easier said than done, you think but the words don’t make it out. All that is in your mind is how bad you want his cock inside you, all of it. The tip only is doing more damage than any good, teasing you further.

“Fuck me for real, ‘Toru”, you hiss at him, grabbing a chunk of his hair before dragging your nails down his undercut, then down his back, and then lower, and lower, and lower — until you reach his ass. Your hand kneading on it, sneakily luring his hips into you.

He wavers, he really does.

Beads of sweat sliding down his forehead, his bangs damp and sticking on his skin. His cheeks flushed while he breathes in heavy stutters as tremors run up and down his body, causing him to buck himself forward just a tiny bit before he stops himself. Terrified of losing his mind if he goes an inch deeper in you, because then — people would know and unfortunately see you in a state that only he is allowed to see.

His extreme possessiveness of you being the only voice of reason in him right now, no matter how contradicting the present situation is. He wants people to know that he fucks you, but he does not want them to witness it. His wish to be the only one you give yourself to is followed by the desire to be the only witness to how you do it.

“Yeah?”, he scoffs, his head falling back for a second then shifting to its previous position. Shortly after his neck cranes down and he nestles his forehead on the nook of your shoulder.

“Do you know what it costs me to stop myself from going all the way in? Do you have any idea how fucking good you feel?”, he laughs in a daze. “Pretty sure I just lost about 10 years of my life holding back, so please — please, don’t let anyone get to that sweet voice”, he pleads through a heavy breath. His voice is really desperate. Like he really is fighting for his life there, trying to keep your voice pristine to his ears only.

“There’s a café three stops away”, he continues after he peels his head away from your shoulder and looks at you through half-lidded eyes. “I can give you the rest there — can you be a good girl for me till then?”

You nod.

The zoo visit was clearly off the table now. But in a few more minutes you would be on the bathroom counter — legs spread and a cockful of your husband inside you — getting what you deserve.