#and then casually throwing them over their shoulder to carry them

[rogueshadow1124]

REMEMBER ME

[Jason Todd x reader]

Summary: on one if his nightly patrols he comes to sit on a rooftop where he flicks through memories of himself and Y/N, his love who was gone. Or was she?

Word count: 2830

Warnings: swearing.

Gotham was a dangerous city. Everybody knew that. It was dull, rundown, and full of rambunctious bandits, rogues, lowlifes—criminals. The worst of the worst lived in Gotham, and not a night went by where there would be peace. Arkham Asylum was where most criminals were sent—the really bad ones, the ones whose evil ran so deep that they put others in danger for their own twisted fun and games.

Above the city, on the ledge of a towering building, sat a broad-built figure, cloaked in the dim glow of Gotham’s failing streetlights. His head hung low, shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world pressed down on them. In his hands, he held a red metallic faceplate, the familiar mask that had become his symbol. Candy apple-colored eyes, once sharp and intense, now appeared sore and rimmed with a ring of red that circled his waterline. A single tear slipped free, landing on the metal mask with a soft, muted thud. He swiped at it absently, his gloved hand dragging beneath his nose as a quiet sniffle broke the silence.

This was Red Hood—the infamous antihero who once ruled Crime Alley and had now begun to roam the streets of Gotham. His armor, designed to withstand the worst Gotham could throw at him, could not protect him from the storm that raged inside. Beneath the mask, the armor, the hardened persona, was Jason Todd—just a young man, broken, in pain, and utterly lost without the comfort he once had.

A comfort that had been torn away from him.

In the stillness, fragments of the past flooded his mind, scenes that he replayed more often than he'd ever admit. The memories came swiftly, cutting through the cold Gotham night like a knife.

“Jason?!” Her voice echoed through his mind first. Soft but clear, like a bell in the fog. He could still picture her walking through the small apartment, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, the way her eyes—those brilliant Y/E/C eyes—would light up whenever she saw him. The creak of the door, the soft thud of her footsteps on the floor, and then her calling out again, more playful this time. “Baby?”

He could see it so vividly—the way he had turned toward her, his lips quirking up into that half-smile she loved. “Y/N/N,” he had replied, his voice warm despite the exhaustion that clung to him.

The duffel bag she carried slipped from her shoulder, landing on the floor with an audible thud, but her attention was entirely on him. He remembered her gaze as it swept over him, lingering on his slouched posture, one arm draped lazily along the back of the couch while the other rested on his thigh, just above his knee. He’d been trying to look casual, like he hadn’t been missing her all day, but she could always see through him.

Without a word, her legs had carried her over to him. She stopped right in front of him, her bright eyes soft with affection. Jason had reached out, patting his thigh in invitation, and she had smiled, the kind of smile that made everything else fade away.

“Oh, Jaybird…” she had whispered as she climbed into his lap, her body draping across him almost horizontally. His arms had wrapped around her immediately, pulling her in as if he could keep her safe just by holding her close. He had kissed her forehead, once, twice, and then again, a smirk dancing on his lips. “I missed you.”

Her laughter had filled the room, light and melodic. “I think I missed you more, babygirl,” he had murmured, his voice low and full of that teasing affection she loved. His hand had cradled the back of her head, pressing her against his chest, and she had giggled, the sound vibrating against him. Times like that were the best, the moments when they didn’t have to hold their guard up, when they didn’t have to be vigilantes or fighters or survivors. They could just be Jason and Y/N.

He could still feel the warmth of her body against his, the way she fit so perfectly in his arms, as if the universe had designed them that way. She had been his solace, his peace in a world that was anything but.

But nothing in Gotham lasted forever, and happiness was the most fleeting thing of all.

Jason’s mind drifted back to the night they met. Y/N had been a rogue back then, laying low, doing her own thing. He’d caught wind of her while on patrol in his Red Hood gear. A newcomer stirring things up, not quite a villain but not exactly a hero either. She had intrigued him, the way she moved through Gotham’s underworld with purpose and precision. He hadn’t expected her to fight back when he finally confronted her.

But she had.

That punch had shattered more than just his mask—it had shattered his assumptions about her. One solid hit had cracked a piece of his faceplate, revealing one of his eyes beneath. For a split second, their gazes had locked—his sharp jade eyes meeting hers. The moment had stunned them both. He had felt it then, that electric pull, the raw attraction that surged through him like nothing he had ever experienced. And from that moment on, she had been in his head, under his skin.

And now, she was gone.

His chest tightened as the weight of reality settled back in. Y/N was gone. He had lost her in the cruelest way imaginable, ripped away before he had a chance to say goodbye, before he could protect her one last time.

The memories, once so vibrant, began to blur, and he was left with only the dull ache that accompanied her absence.

A faint sound behind him stirred him from his thoughts—quick, sharp footsteps slicing through the quiet. Instinctively, Jason tensed, his body reacting before his mind fully caught up. Someone was there.

Jason’s senses flared the moment the figure lunged at him, a blur of black against the dark skyline. Their impact hit like a freight train, the force of it driving the air from his lungs as they tumbled across the rooftop. His back slammed against the gritty surface, pain rippling through his ribs, but his instincts kicked in before his mind had time to process the shock. He raised his arms just in time to block a swift elbow aimed at his jaw.

The figure’s movements were sharp, surgical—no wasted motion, every strike aimed to disable or incapacitate. Jason’s muscles strained as he parried a rapid series of blows, his forearms absorbing the brunt of punches that felt like they were thrown by someone who knew his every move. He countered with a knee strike, but they twisted out of the way, fluid and fast, turning his own momentum against him. His balance faltered for a split second, enough time for his attacker to hook a leg around his and sweep him to the ground again.

“Damn it!” he growled, rolling with the fall, instinctively flipping back to his feet. His breath came in shallow bursts, his heart hammering in his chest. This wasn’t just some thug. This person—whoever they were—was fighting with the same ruthlessness, the same precision he used. Every move they made felt familiar, as if he was battling his own reflection.

Jason charged, closing the distance between them with a flurry of punches and a swift roundhouse kick, but the figure met him blow for blow, deflecting each strike with an eerie familiarity. A vicious jab to his ribs sent pain shooting through his side, but he didn’t slow down. He couldn't afford to.

They clashed again, their movements a deadly dance of speed and skill. The rooftop echoed with the sharp crack of fists and the scrape of boots against concrete. Jason grabbed his attacker's wrist, yanking them off balance, but the figure twisted with practiced ease, using his grip to pull him into a brutal headbutt. Stars exploded in his vision, and he stumbled back, shaking his head to clear the haze.

This was wrong. All of it was wrong. How could they fight like this? Like him?

He circled warily, his breath ragged, eyes scanning for any opening. The figure mirrored his movements, calm, calculated, as if anticipating his next move. And that’s when he saw it—a glint of something small and metallic, just beneath the collar of their shirt, briefly visible as they adjusted their stance.

A heart-shaped necklace, swaying slightly as they moved.

Jason’s focus sharpened, his eyes narrowing on the piece of jewelry. His next strike was deliberate, forcing the figure back just enough for him to see the necklace more clearly—a silver heart with an engraving, the letter J catching the dim light. His breath hitched, the world slowing around him as the truth slammed into him with a force more powerful than any punch.

His heart stopped.

No. It couldn’t be. But that necklace—he knew that necklace.

Time seemed to freeze as the figure stepped back, tilting their head ever so slightly, as if sensing his hesitation. Jason’s fists trembled, uncertainty flooding his veins. His mind raced back to years ago, back to a girl who wore that very necklace—a girl he thought he’d never see again.

“Y/N?” he whispered, the name escaping his lips before he could stop it.

The figure paused, their body still as stone. For a brief second, the chaos of the fight ebbed, and Jason saw it. In the way they held themselves, the way they moved—it wasn’t just the fighting style that was familiar. It was her.

“Y/N!” he called out, louder now, his voice cracking with equal parts disbelief and hope.

The figure straightened, and with a slow, deliberate motion, reached up to the edge of their mask. Jason’s breath caught in his throat as gloved fingers peeled away the black mask, revealing a face he thought had been lost to time.

Her eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Her expression was cold, hardened by the years, but the necklace, swinging gently against her chest, told the story neither of them needed to say.

It was her. Y/N.

Jason’s world tilted on its axis, the rooftop suddenly feeling too small, the night too quiet. The woman he once knew—the woman he once loved—was standing in front of him, and now, she was a weapon pointed right at him.

He could see the hesitation in her posture now. The rigid tension in her shoulders had loosened, her fists no longer clenched for another round. Her breathing was heavy, but not from exertion—no, this was something else. Confusion, maybe. Doubt.

“Who the fuck is Y/N?” she snapped, her voice colder than he’d ever heard it, a sharp edge to her tone. Her gaze pierced through him like she was demanding answers to questions she didn’t even know how to ask. But behind that, something flickered—a hesitation, a crack in her hardened exterior. It was subtle, but Jason caught it, and it twisted the knife in his chest even deeper.

“You are,” Jason said, his voice raw, barely keeping steady. He took a cautious step toward her, his hands lowered, palms facing her as if he were trying to calm a wild animal. “Y/N, it’s me. Jason.”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a second, something sparked behind them—something familiar. But just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by a cold, distant stare. She shook her head, taking a step back as if his words were dangerous.

“I don’t know who the hell you think I am,” she muttered, her tone biting, “but I’m not her.”

The words were like a punch to his gut. Jason’s heart pounded in his chest as a mix of anger and desperation flared within him. How could she not remember? How could she forget everything they went through? He clenched his fists, trying to steady his breath, his mind racing for a way to break through to her.

“You don’t remember me?” Jason asked, his voice softer now, almost pleading. He stepped closer again, his eyes searching her face for any sign, any flicker of recognition. “You don’t remember us?”

She stared at him, her jaw clenched, her eyes flicking over him like she was trying to figure him out. For a moment, her gaze lingered on the way he stood, the subtle shift in his weight, the way he held himself. There was something there, buried deep within her, something that made her hesitate.

“No,” she finally said, but her voice wavered ever so slightly. “I don’t... I don’t know you.”

Jason’s heart broke a little more with each word, but he couldn’t stop now. He had to make her remember, had to find a way to bring her back. He took a deep breath, letting the emotions flood through him as he spoke.

“You’re Y/N.” His voice was steady now, filled with quiet determination. “We fought together. We survived together. You’re the one who kept me going when I thought everything was lost. We—” He swallowed hard, his throat tightening. “We loved each other, Y/N.”

Her eyes flickered again, this time more noticeably. She looked away for a split second, as if trying to push something away, something clawing at the edges of her mind.

Jason’s heart pounded harder. There was a crack, a small one, but it was there. He could feel it. She wasn’t fighting him anymore—not like she was before. She couldn’t hurt him.

“Why... Why can’t I...” Her voice trailed off, her hand going to her temple, fingers pressing against her head like she was trying to force herself to remember, or maybe trying not to.

Jason moved in closer, his voice soft but filled with urgency. “It’s in there, Y/N. You can feel it, can’t you? There’s a part of you that knows I’m telling the truth. You don’t want to hurt me. I can see it. I can feel it.”

She looked at him again, her lips parting slightly, confusion swirling in her expression. Her hands trembled for a brief second before she clenched them into fists, shaking her head like she was trying to shake off the weight of his words.

“I... I don’t know you!” she insisted, but her voice was weaker now, cracking under the pressure of something she couldn’t explain. “I don’t know anything!”

Jason’s chest tightened at the sound of her breaking down, and for a brief moment, he saw the girl he once knew—the girl beneath the armor and confusion. He couldn’t let her slip away. Not again.

In a bold move, he stepped even closer, closing the distance between them until he was right in front of her. His hand hovered near her cheek, hesitating for only a second before he gently placed it against her skin. She flinched but didn’t pull away. Her eyes snapped to his, wide and searching.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his thumb brushing against her cheek in a touch so familiar it almost hurt him. “You used to hate it when I’d call you that when you were mad. You’d roll your eyes and make that face like you were too good for me. But you’d laugh. You always laughed.”

Her breath hitched, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. Her eyes softened for just a heartbeat, her gaze trapped in his.

“Jason...” she whispered, barely audible, her voice shaking.

He froze, his heart thudding in his chest. She said his name. He saw it, felt it—a spark. But then, just as quickly as it came, her eyes darkened again, a shadow falling over her face. She jerked away from him, stepping back as if she’d been burned.

“No,” she muttered, her voice panicked now. “No. I can’t... I can’t be her.”

Jason’s hand dropped to his side, the moment slipping away, but he didn’t give up. He couldn’t. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm, to keep reaching out to her. “You are her, Y/N. You can fight it, but you know deep down, you’re her. You just have to remember.”

She shook her head violently, turning away from him, her hands trembling as she clutched her head. “I don’t know who I am! I don’t know who you are! Leave me alone!”

But Jason wouldn’t let her run. He stepped forward, his voice firm but gentle. “I won’t. I won’t leave you. Not again. Not like this.”

For a long moment, she didn’t move, her back still to him, her breathing ragged. Jason stayed there, waiting, hoping. He knew this fight wasn’t over—not with her.

[spider-socorro-stan]

A father protects.

Inspired by this post.

[estellan0vella]

Shut Up, Mom! ❀ includes: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Toji & Sukuna (REQUESTED) Masterlist

You stand firm in the kitchen, arms crossed, after denying your child's request for more sweets. Gojo lounges casually nearby, a faint smile playing on his lips. Your little one, clearly frustrated, looks up at you and blurts out, "Shut up, Mom!"

The air grows tense instantly. Gojo's blue eyes narrow, the usually playful glint gone in a flash. He straightens, walking over to kneel beside your child, his expression serious yet calm. "Hey, we don't talk to Mom like that," he says, his voice low but firm. He gently cups your child's cheek, his touch a blend of sternness and care. "Mom loves you and makes rules to keep you from getting sick. Apologize to her."

Your child glances between you and Gojo, recognizing the gravity in his usually lighthearted father's eyes. "I'm sorry, Mom," they mumble, looking down.

Gojo's smile returns, a bit softer now. He ruffles their hair. "Good. Now, how about we find something else fun to do together?" 

In the living room, you're putting away toys when your child whines for more TV time. When you deny the request, they stomp their foot and shout, "Shut up, Mom!"

Geto, who has been quietly reading on the couch, lowers his book, his usually calm demeanor shifting to one of quiet authority. He stands, approaching your child with a measured stride. "We don't speak to Mom like that," he says softly, yet his voice carries a weight that demands respect. He kneels to meet their eye level. "Why did you say that?"

Your child looks guilty, fidgeting under Geto's steady gaze. "I was mad."

Geto nods, his expression softening slightly. "I understand being mad, but words have power. Use them to express your feelings, not to hurt others. Apologize to Mom."

With a small nod, your child turns to you. "Sorry, Mom."

Geto smiles, patting their shoulder. "Good. Now, let's find a way to enjoy the rest of our day without TV."

You're in the study, helping your child with their homework when they throw down their pencil in frustration. "Shut up, Mom!" they snap when you suggest they redo a wrong answer.

Nanami, who had just walked in with a cup of tea for you, freezes. His jaw tightens, and he places the cup on the desk with deliberate calmness. He steps over, placing a hand on your child's shoulder. "We do not speak to Mom that way," he says, his tone firm but not loud. "She is here to help you."

Your child looks up at him, eyes wide. "But it's hard!"

Nanami nods, his expression softening but remaining serious. "I know it's hard, but being disrespectful doesn't make it easier. Apologize to Mom and let's try again together."

Your child sighs, looking down. "I'm sorry, Mom."

Nanami gives you a small, reassuring smile before turning back to your child. "Good. Now, let's tackle this problem together, step by step."

In the middle of a family game night, you deny your child an extra turn, trying to teach fairness. They scowl and shout, "Shut up, Mom!"

Choso, who has been arranging the next round of pieces, looks up sharply. His eyes, usually so gentle, darken with concern. He sets the pieces down and moves closer, crouching beside your child. "That's not how we talk to Mom," he says, his voice calm but with an edge of disappointment. "Mom is being fair."

Your child pouts, crossing their arms. "It's not fair!"

Choso sighs, placing a hand on their small shoulder. "Life isn't always fair, but respect is important. Apologize to Mom and let's continue our game with kindness."

Your child hesitates, then mumbles, "Sorry, Mom."

Choso smiles softly, nodding. "Thank you. Now, let's see if we can make the game more fun for everyone."

During a meal, you tell your child they can't have dessert until they finish their vegetables. They glare at you and shout, "Shut up, Mom!"

Sukuna, who has been eating quietly, pauses mid-bite. His eyes flash dangerously, and he slowly puts down his utensils. Rising from his seat, he moves with a predatory grace to stand beside your child. "What did you just say?" he asks, his voice low and menacing.

Your child shrinks back, suddenly aware of the gravity of their outburst. "I... I said shut up..."

Sukuna leans down, his presence overwhelming. "You will not speak to your mother that way," he growls. "She deserves your respect. Apologize. Now."

Trembling, your child looks up at you. "I'm sorry, Mom."

Sukuna straightens, his intense gaze still fixed on them. "Good. Now, eat your vegetables. Or I eat your toes"

"Ryo!"

You deny your child's request to stay up late, and they respond with a defiant, "Shut up, Mom!"

Toji, who has been leaning against the doorframe, straightens immediately. His expression hardens, and he walks over, his steps heavy with purpose. Kneeling down, he looks your child directly in the eye, his voice a low rumble. "We don't talk to Mom like that. Ever."

Your child squirms under his intense gaze. "But I want to stay up!"

Toji shakes his head, his tone leaving no room for argument. "That doesn't matter. Respect is non-negotiable. Apologize to Mom right now."

Your child glances at you, then back at Toji, clearly chastened. "Sorry, Mom."

Toji's expression softens slightly, and he ruffles their hair. "Good. Now let's get ready for bed. No arguments."

[onlygarden]

[too much, baby?] - yang jungwon

genre: smut

description: dom jungwon, unprotected sex, rough sex, jungwon just can't stop himself, a bit of size kink, jungwon likes when you cry, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

a/n: to the anon who requested this, i hope it meets your expectations and i do apologize if you were expecting it to be shorter but i unfortunately cannot stop rambling when it comes to jungwon.

the tranquility of the afternoon floats throughout your home as jungwon enters the bedroom with the sole purpose of admiring you, his lovely girlfriend. he was always captivated by an overwhelming sensation of surreality whenever he took in everything that comprised you. the beauty that forcefully beamed out of you was so mesmerizing he couldn’t look away from you even if he wanted to. why would he ever want to to do that, though? your existence itself far surpassed the confines of realism. to jungwon, you just couldn’t be real.

astonishment shook him as he took notice of the clothing that relaxed around your body. the large white shirt that belonged to him (needless to say) complemented your body without even hugging any part of it. your tiny body always made his clothes look so big, and he was enraptured by that alluring contradiction. he notices your lack of clothing too; beneath his large shirt, you shamelessly donned no bra, and he only assumes you’re wearing panties since your legs stand completely bare. 

if he pounced on your unsuspecting figure right now, you would willingly oblige to any manner he decided to mistreat your body in. he knew just how far to go with you, and you would always let him ring you out completely dry, anyway. 

“what are you doing, noona?” jungwon suddenly questions you, his slim figure approaching you, shoulders broad as ever. your throat grows tight as you watch the way jungwon places his hand upon the dresser you’re currently folding clothes in. he was so close to you, and he loomed over you like he was trying to hold you captive. 

“just folding clothes,” you answer simply, finally carrying your eyes to meet his. your hands freeze their actions as jungwon’s expression flings you into a state bordering on fright. 

he stood above you, gazing down onto you with an unsettling gloom in his eyes. though dull, his eyes pierced into you like he was trying to tame an inner unwavering desire. what got him like this?

his finger casually lands upon your thigh, directly below the hem of your shirt. he drags it upwards with deliberate pacing, his eyes patiently attached to the skin his finger carefully reveals. he stops once he sees a trace of your lacy thong; his eyes fall shut as he exhales, and he opens them to return his sinister gaze to you. 

“are you doing this on purpose y/n? do you want me to make you cry?” 

your breath hitches, and you’re not sure if your body was surging with heat or chills. the words that tumbled from his lips hurled your mind into a complete frenzy. god he was so blatant, and he was always violently throwing you off track with his sudden tenacity. 

“jungwon,” you start, only to be interrupted by his entire hand now moving underneath your shirt, gliding along the course of your waist as his relentless gaze returns to your body.

you remove your hands from the drawer, steadily inching it closed before jungwon slams it shut with impatience. your body flinches vaguely.

he glides his other hand underneath your shirt, both hands grabbing your waist as he forces you to face him completely.

“i’m gonna make sure you don’t ever think about teasing me like this again,” jungwon says, his low voice almost distracting you from his outlandish words. you weren’t getting him riled up on purpose, you would’ve never even guessed he’d make such a sudden switch when he joined you in the room. 

his body presses directly against you as he guides you towards the bed, lifting you up to toss you onto it before you can even feel it behind you. 

climbing on top of you, jungwon immediately moves to pull his shirt off of your body. he hurriedly tugs your panties down your legs, and you feel the lace scrape against your legs before they’re completely removed. 

his hands return to your body with greed, pushing your thighs apart and shoving a finger inside of you. he sighs as his finger becomes drenched in your slippery essence, the intensity of your wetness leaving him astonished since he had only touched you a few times. he doesn’t flash a trace of pity as he shoves another finger inside of you, starting at a brutal pace. 

“i barely touched you, aren’t you ashamed?” he asks, ridiculing you. you just couldn’t control the way your body reacted to him, your insides always melting just for him, all your sensible judgment readily surrendering to the mere idea of him touching you. 

the feeling of jungwon’s long, slender fingers punishing your insides began to bury your senses in devastating pleasure. he’s sure to watch you intently, catching every twitch, moan, and sigh his fingers force out of you. he pushes the palm of his hand against you clit, enjoying the way you clamp onto his fingers, making it more difficult for him to pump them in and out of you. 

your orgasm approaches quickly, demolishing your senses and overriding them with pleasure that truly seemed to be too much, but jungwon can’t bring himself to stop. 

“jungwon, stop! please!” you beg pathetically, moaning through your words to the point of them almost becoming indecipherable. 

“i don’t want to,” he says simply, his low voice still making your mouth water. jungwon admired your body underneath him, his expression somewhat brooding. the sight of you writhing beneath him further aggravated his urge to push your body into the mattress and fuck you to tears. 

“give me another one, i know you can,” he says, wanting your mind to be nothing more than a cloud that swirled with thoughts of him. 

after much denial and idle refusal, you came around his fingers one more time, your proper thinking drifting away from you as jungwon pulled his fingers out of your leaking pussy. 

you looked absolutely delirious, just how jungwon wanted you to be. the only thing your mind could prompt you to do now was beg and plead for jungwon. 

properly satisfied with your pitiful condition, jungwon strips himself of his clothes, beyond eager to plunge himself deep into your wetness. his hardened cock twitched in anticipation.  

you spilled so generously that it flowed out of you, creating a puddle beneath you. jungwon adored the sight before him, loving the way you bloomed just for him.

“you made a huge mess, baby,” jungwon says softly. “aren’t you sorry?” 

you whine as he pushes your thighs towards your chest, moving to line himself up with your entrance.  

he sinks into you hastily, pounding you with ferocity and speed from the start. a low, breathy moan escapes him as he relishes the feeling and the sounds of your slick pussy latching onto him. 

“i asked you a question,” jungwon reminds you, looking down at you with a stony expression decorating his face. 

how were you ever supposed to even begin to formulate an answer to his question when jungwon’s long cock was stretching you open, plowing further inside of you than you could ever dream about, and absolutely abusing the most delicate part of your body with hunger.

“sorry! i’m sorry!” you manage to blurt out, moans entwined with your words and you can only hope he accepts it as an answer. 

“i know you are,” jungwon says as he slips his length out of you. he flips your body over, negligent to any discomfort he might cause you; all he’s concerned with is forcing you open. 

you’re laid on your stomach, and jungwon pushes one of your legs upwards, giving himself a clear entrance to the warmth that he can’t wait to bury himself in. 

he rams back into you, his pace just as brutal as before, and the weight of his body against you pins you to the bed. 

“did you think i’d let you walk around here in my shirt and not do anything about it?” jungwon asks with no real expectation of an answer this time. one of his hands grabs onto your hip, mercilessly squeezing as he thrusts into you with increased severity. 

he bites onto your shoulder from behind you, furrowing his brows and groaning near your ear so delightfully as he savors every bit of your divine pussy. 

“you’re so tiny baby, all you can do is lay here and take what i give you,” jungwon says, unable to contain himself at the way your body is trapped underneath his larger frame.

tears begin to pour out of your eyes as you become submerged by jungwon’s relentless pummeling, your clit grazing against the mattress below you. your orgasm was reaching you fast. 

“jungwon, stop!” you suddenly cry, not actually wanting him to stop, your words purely emerging from your internal feud to wrangle (or simply process) the pleasure coursing through your body. 

he would never move on from how breathtaking you looked in this moment. 

“i told you i’d make you cry, baby. even if you think it’s too much, you deserve it,” his words are propelling you further into hysteria than you were ever prepared to reach. 

he grabs one of your wrists, squeezing it and pinning it beside you, as his breath traces your ear in a deep moan. you breathing grows rapid, your legs beginning to quiver beneath him as you cum onto his length, moaning for him beyond your control. jungwon continues to forcefully grace you with his thrusts, unsparing in the way he pounded you through your orgasm. 

“your little pussy can barely take it, baby,” jungwon grabs onto your thigh, letting out low, breathy moans as he floats closer to his high.

you feel overwhelmed as he continues his inhumane treatment of your body, barely recovering from your own orgasm. 

as he reaches his high, he stammers out a groan, gripping your thigh to a painful degree, earning blaring moans from you. 

jungwon collapses onto you, his full weight pressing you further into the mattress, his heavy breath stroking your face. he takes a few moments to caress the side of your body before lifting himself up, and sliding his length out of your exhausted figure. 

“i’ll clean you up, noona,” jungwon gently mutters, leaving the bed to prepare a washcloth. 

when jungwon returns, he carefully turns your body over, noticing just how drained he left you.

“i’m sorry for wearing you out, baby,” he laughs a bit, running the warm, wet towel along your body, massaging the parts of you he punished with his grip. 

“no you’re not,” you jest tiredly, smiling up at your tender boyfriend.

jungwon chuckles. “you’re right, i’m not,” he pokes back, a wide smile stretching out his face when you reach out to slap his chest. 

jungwon lifts your upper body to a sitting position in order to drape his shirt over your frame, gently laying you back onto the bed after you’re dressed. he chuckled at the way your tired muscles nearly gave out from simply sitting up, the blame lying in the rough way he preyed on your body. 

jungwon dresses himself in lounge clothes before joining you on the bed, pulling your body directly against his until your back touched his chest. “you did well for me, baby,” jungwon says, running his hand across the dip of your waist in appreciation. “i’ll try to contain myself while you’re wearing my shirt this time,” jungwon laughs when you contribute to his teasing (much to his enjoyment), and gently elbow him where he lay behind you.

[13curses]

i really think satosugu love carrying you around. i really fucking do!!!

( implied polyamory ) you’d be chatting with suguru in your shared bedroom while casually changing out of your outer wear, and after you turn around subsequent to getting rid of your pants, he has his arms open and is bending forward to welcome you in his hold. and you obey, walking over to be have him pick you up like a koala, being chauffeured to the bathroom. you’re drawn a bath while you’re sat down on top of the washing machine with a forehead kiss.

satoru loves to playfight with you & half of it is concluded by you being thrown over his shoulder, easily carrying you by the grip of your thighs as you throw small-fisted punches at his back. he flips you here n there with no difficulty, sometimes if you turn to feisty bites as a weapon he’ll flinch, then snicker, but he wouldn’t drop you ever.

“satoruuu—!” you’d complain by the time you’re flopping in his hands, held up in the air, like a kitten. “i’m gettin’ dizzy..!”

and he’d do his bidding, pulling you close so you can rest your chin upon his shoulder as he rubs your back in circles, calling the fight off. you’d get victory-tickles, though. in general he loves delivering you over his shoulder, for so long you could level up in hay day by the time he puts you on your feet.

suguru rests his cheeks between your thighs as you sit on his wide shoulders, not needing to hold your shins for balance. sometimes he drums on your knees with his fingers & nuzzles your thighs to get your attention if he wants to show you something. when you’re feeling silly you clench your thighs against his cheeks while he’s speaking, muffling his words (he’ll bite them).

satoru sometimes bears you under his arm like you’re a sack of lightweight potatoes.

they take turns carrying your asleep body from the couch to bed in bridesmaid style. they let you sit on one of their singular shoulders, akin to a trophy. they lift you by your waist or ribs to help you reach something. hell, they will pass you over to switch who gets to hold their favorite baby.

satosugu love to lift you around like you don’t have fucking legs oml let me tell you !!!!!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Penalty

Barcelona Femení + Misa Rodríguez x Hardersson!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Someone's ego is bruised

She was hot and sweaty but above all, Misa was tired.

She’d even go as far as saying she was exhausted.

“Ale!” She complains as another ball goes rocketing past her to the back of the net,” Come on! We’ve been at this for hours!”

On the edge of the pitch, lay both Paños and Cata. They’d been Alexia’s first two victims, having been there since before Misa arrived.

“I’m just warming up,” Alexia replies, jogging on the spot before kicking another ball past Misa’s body,” I’m practicing.”

“For what?” Paños asks,” You’ve not told us anything. Are you doing another charity match? Because this is extreme.”

“No, but that’s a good idea,” Alexia says thoughtfully before letting loose another rocket that streaks past Misa’s outstretched arms.

“She’s finally gone crazy,” Cata groans,” I told you this would happen. She’s gone crazy and now we’re all suffering.”

“Again,” Alexia orders as Misa rolls the balls back to her,” We’ve still got a little bit of time before-“

“How long have you guys been here?” Patri appears out of nowhere, strolling onto the pitch  with a group of people trailing behind her,” God, you’ve killed Cata.”

“Okay,” Misa snaps,” What the hell is going on?! I thought retirement was the opportunity for us to relax. Ale’s gone absolutely batshit!”

Patri grins, all crooked and mischievous. “Her ego’s bruised. The new Barca keeper hasn’t let any penalties in ever. Alexia thought she’d be the exception.”

Misa racks her brain for who the new Barcelona keeper is, thinking for a few moments before,” Oh, Eriksson and Harder’s daughter, right?” She laughs. “Wounded your pride, did she, Ale? It’s okay. You’re not in your prime anymore-“

“I’m just out of practice,” Alexia says to Misa before turning to Patri,” How did you find out? Did you blab to everyone?”

A group of the old Barcelona team have invaded the pitch. Pina, Marta and Caro have all set up a picnic blanket as Paredes and her wife hand out juice boxes and to-go sandwiches. Jana and Bruna are squirting each other with water as Mapi and Ingrid roll their eyes.

Vicky and Salma have arrived too, talking to each other as Ona and Aitana come strolling closer.

Behind them, comes Patri’s cousin and you.

You’re talking softly to her, heads bowed as you speak whilst carrying a bag.

You’re dressed casually in just some tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt. Your jacket is flung over your shoulders and Natalia fiddles with the collar.

You’re much taller than you were the first time Misa met you. You’re taller than her definitely, taller than Alexia too. Misa’s eyes cut to Ingrid and she wonders briefly if all Scandis are tall or if you and Ingrid are just outliers.

“Morning,” You chirp, digging through your bag for your gloves.

“Ten euros on Alexia getting one in,” Jana says and Misa watches as Talia rolls her eyes.

“Don’t be stupid. Alexia’s getting nothing past her. Mi vida is the greatest keeper in the world. She doesn’t let me score against her without a fight. There’s no way Alexia can do something I can’t.”

Patri laughs, ruffling her cousin’s hair. “You think you’re better than la reina? You’re cute, Nat.”

Natalia huffs, darting away so she can smooth her hair down. “She’s not getting anything past her.”

“I’ll put five on y/n playing with her,” Ingrid pipes up,” Look at her, she’s already not taking this seriously. She’s teasing Ale.”

You’re grinning, swinging your arms easily before dropping down to tie laces that were already tied.

Alexia paces in front of the penalty spot like a lion.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

You take your time, inspecting the goalposts before whistling sharply. Without even looking, Talia chucks you your drink and you catch it one-handed. You take a long drink and Aitana giggles as you carelessly throw it behind you.

You clap your gloved hands twice before finally taking your position.

Alexia tries to catch you off guard. She doesn’t run up, she just kicks.

You leap up on one leg and pluck it from the air.

She tries to put the next into the left bottom corner but you’re already diving in that direction before the ball has fully left her foot.

“See!” Natalia swoons to everyone who will listen,” My girlfriend is the best in the world.”

Alexia’s penalties get more aggressive as time goes on but you collect them all without little fanfare.

Her last kick had you winking as you roll the ball back to her and Misa had to smother her life when Alexia’s jaw clenches.

“Give up, Ale!” Mapi yells from the sidelines,” Save what little dignity you have left!”

Ingrid smacks her on the shoulder but offers up her own teasing. “She’s already got a list of veterans she’s beaten in penalties! Don’t make her add you too!”

“She has a list?” Misa asks and Ingrid nods.

“It’s a long list,” Ingrid giggles,” She’s been collecting us like Pokémon. I think Chloe Kelly got put on the list last week. Sixty-nine mile per hour shot, y/n collected it like it was nothing.”

“Kid’s got skill,” Paños says, whistling lowly,” Did you see that goal in the World Cup last summer? She’s got flare too.”

“It was so cool!” Talia says excitedly, practically barging her way into the conversation,” The shocked face after it was so cute.”

Natalia waxes poetic about you for the next half an hour as Alexia overloads you with penalties.

None of them go past you.

“You’re so gross,” Patri complains as Talia finally finishes her latest you-centric lecture,” Can you go be in love somewhere else?”

“Nat!” Paredes calls out,” Come and grab a drink, please! It’s very hot today.”

Misa agrees It’s is very hot and she can’t believe a Scandi like you is easily keeping up with Alexia in such heat.

Aitana calls out to you in Catalan and you turn your head to respond, perfect Catalan flowing from your mouth as you reply.

While you’re distracted, Alexia strikes.

She kicks the ball hard. It’s going in the opposite direction to where you’re looking but you still move, like you’ve seen her kick out of the corner of your eye.

You intercept the ball with your chest, letting it fall to your knee and then your foot, where you boot it straight back to Alexia, who has to duck or face a ball to the stomach.

“Sorry!” You call out to her, face suddenly goes bright red when you realise how automatically you reacted.

Alexia sighs and just lays backwards on the ground in defeat.

“Another one for the list then,” Mapi laughs as you make your way over.

You sit by Aitana, who offers you a drink that you take gratefully.

“Hey,” Misa says, sticking her hand out to you,” I’m Misa.”

You shake it. “I know. We met at the world cup when I was little.”

“That was a while ago. It’s nice to see you again.”

“You too.”

She sits on your other side. “So, no penalties whatsoever?”

“None,” You reply,” It’s my special skill.”

“How?”

“She’s super smart,” Natalia says as she appears. She drapes herself over your back and props her chin up on your shoulder. “So smart. She has a degree from Cambridge.”

Your cheeks go red. “You don’t need to keep telling people that.”

“A degree from Cambridge!” Talia doesn’t pay any attention to what you’ve just said. “And she speaks so many languages! She’s working on her Basque right now!”

“Talia,” You complain,” She didn’t ask.”

“But she should know,” Talia insists,” Maybe if you bragged more then I wouldn’t have to do it for you.”

“I’m not that smart.”

Aitana scoffs. “You picked up Ancient Greek in a few months,” She says,” I think we should all be thankful you decided to do football and not take over the world instead.”

You laugh. “I’m happy I stuck with football too.”

The air is filled with ease even as Alexia crawls out of her defeat and joins you all on the picnic blanket. It’s the first time you’ve really hung out with the old Barcelona team. You know a few of them through the coaching staff, a few more through Talia but having them all together makes you feel a little lightheaded.

Cata and Paños in particular seem in awe of your skills and you used to admire those two nearly as much as Zećira. It’s all a bit surreal.

Alexia ends up next to you.

“If I was in my prime,” She says,” I would have scored past you.” She’s being deadly serious and it shocks a laugh out of you.

“Do you really think so?”

Her face betrays her true feelings even as she nods.

“We should get Jenni to try a few against her!” Jana insists.

“I’ll text her,” Marta says,” I think I saw somewhere she’s in the city. Maybe we can get her here now.”

Alexia doesn’t bother answering them. She looks at you, really looks at you. She’s scrutinising you.

Her eyes are narrowed as she stares before her features soften and she bumps her shoulder with yours. “One day,” She says,” I’m going to give you your Ballon d'Or.”

[ivoirerose]

golf trip | rafe cameron

Summary: When Rafe drags you out golfing with his friends, you decide to get your revenge by teasing him.

Warnings: smut, voyeurism, spanking, public sex

==================================

Rafe Cameron both loved and hated you right now. He loved the little skirt you were wearing, pleats swinging as you pranced around the golf course. He hated the way you bent over to tie your laces, ass on full display and not a damn thing he could do about it.

He loved the lipgloss you were wearing, lips pink and shiny and full. He hated the way you kept sinking your teeth into your skin, teasing him in that you knew he loved.

He loved the way your top (if you could even call it that) pushed your tits together. He hated the way Topper and Kelce wouldn’t stop fucking staring at them.

Spending the day golfing with your boyfriends friends wasn’t in your top ten of things to do, and you were damn sure punishing Rafe for dragging you here in the first place, flashing your shit around for everyone to see.

And it was driving him fucking insane.

“Rafe, stop sulking and come take your turn,” you shouted, holding back a smirk at the dark look on his face as he stalked towards you.

“You’re on thin ice, sweetheart,” he mumbled in your ear as he passed you, giving your ass a gentle tap.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you smiled innocently, and he rolled his eyes as he leaned over to take his shot.

Topper whistled lowly as he watched the ball land way off.

“Dude, you are seriously off your game today,” he commented, and Rafe huffed out a sigh, harsh grip on his club as he turned to you.

“You happy?” He scowled at you, eyeing your legs as he did.

“Me? Whatever do you mean?” You asked, hand against your chest as you smiled sweetly at him.

“Keep going, baby. See what happens.”

“Hmm. Sounds exciting,” you smirked again, and you swore he was about the break his club in half as you shouldered past him, making sure to put an extra spring in your step as you followed Kelce to the next hole.

He trailed after you, eyes squinting at the casual way you leaned a hand on Kelce’s arm as you walked, throwing a sly wink back at him.

He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could stand.

You both stood watching Kelce take his turn, your hand softly reaching back to just scrape against the bulge in his shorts, and he bit back a groan at the sensation before grabbing your hand harshly in his.

“Don’t make me bend you over right here.”

His voice was dark in your ear, and you felt yourself slick between your thighs at the feel of his breath on your skin, the threat in his words.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you mumbled back, before pushing off him, sliding up to take your own shot, and he knew from the glint in your eye that this wasn’t over.

“Hey Top?” You called out, looking over you shoulder at the blonde boy. “Could you show me that technique you were talking about the other day?”

Topper swallowed harshly as he glanced over at Rafe before walking over to stand behind you, trying to keep a respectful distance as he explained it to you.

“You get it now?” He asked, and you smirked at Rafe before answering.

“I’m not sure, can you show me?” You asked sweetly, and Topper dared a step closer, hands wrapping around yours over the club as he demonstrated a swing.

Rafe’s limit finally came watching the way you shuffled back into Topper, ass pressing against his dick.

He threw his club down, storming over to the pair of you, enjoying the way Topper quickly stepped back, hands held out innocently. He grabbed you harshly, dragging you over to the golf cart and shoving you down, tits pressed against the seat and your ass in the air

“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing?” You gasped out as his hands lifted your skirt, running over your underwear.

“I warned you, baby. You didn’t listen. I told you what would happen if you carried on, and I don’t back out. So you’re gonna bend over like a good little girl and you’re gonna take what I give you, right here, right now. Got it?”

You glanced around, eyes trailing over the trees surrounding you, offering you a pretty decent cover for what you knew was about to happen. Your stomach flipped as you caught Topper’s eye, Kelce next to him, both boys looking a curious mix of horny and confused.

“I said, got it?” Rafe asked again, slapping your ass harshly.

“Yes! I got it,” you moaned out, and you swore you saw Topper’s dick twitch in his shorts from your position across from him.

“That’s a good girl.”

And then he was sliding your underwear to the side, pushing into you with a quick thrust, setting his pace instantly as he shoved you forward, chest sliding against the seat.

You cried out as he hit deep, each brush against that spot inside you driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your eyes were squeezed shut, desperate pants leaving your lips as Rafe’s hand trailed up to tighten around your throat.

He pulled you back against him, the new angle making you see stars, and he whispered lowly in your ear.

“Open those eyes, baby. See how they’re watching you, watching you take me like the good girl you are.”

You obeyed, lids snapping open to look at your friends, both seemingly trancelike as they stared at the way Rafe was moving in you, the way your tits were bouncing with each thrust. Rafe felt you clench tighter around him, and he held back a groan of his own at the way you gripped him.

“Go on, sweetheart, come for me. Show them just how good I make you feel, show them who you belong to,” he ordered, and your body listened instantly, your orgasm hitting you as you moaned out so loudly you were sure they’d hear you on the Cut.

Rafe followed straight after, spanking you lightly again as he pulled out, eyes glued to way he dripped out of you.

He turned you around, pulling you against him as he slid your underwear back into place.

“Now, you’re gonna go pick up your golf club, and you’re gonna finish this game with my come still running down your thighs, and you’re gonna do it with a smile on that pretty face. You even think about misbehaving and I’ll let them both take a turn in that tight ass of yours.”

[mischievousmoony]

hi i saw your request were open, and i really love you’re work and i was wondering if you could do something with james where the reader talks very quickly and quietly and often is told that she needs to speak up. and james always knows what she says and its kinda just fluffy? no worries if you don’t want to write!! have an amazing night/day

- 🪷

is this my first emoji anon? 🤭 thank u love, i had a lot of fun with this request

𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚞𝚙

⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 1.9k ⟢ warnings/tags: not bully per say but other students are rude, fluff

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Miss. Y/L/N, have you found a group to work with?" Professor McGonagall asks as students around you huddle in groups of four whilst you stand alone at your desk, packing your things.

You mumble a response as you stuff your books into your bag, attempting to flee the scene as fast as possible. It wasn't anything to do with Professor McGonagall, but rather the fact that you always felt a little scrutinized when talking to anyone in a position of authority.

McGonagall squints as she tries to decipher your words. She finds herself having to make a guess.

"If not, I am more than happy to assist in finding–"

"She's with us, Professor!" James jogs over, returning from enlisting members for your group. As you straighten out your leafs of parchment, James starts packing away your ink and quill for you.

"And 'us' entails?" Professor McGonagall questions.

With a casual flick of his thumb over his shoulder, James gestures to a pair of Ravenclaws standing by the door.

"Very well," McGonagall hums in approval before walking off to ensure any other stragglers have found a group before they depart.

James would prefer to have Sirius and Remus as the other half of your group, but McGonagall has permanently banned James and Sirius from working together ever since they turned a simple demonstration into their own personal stand up comedy gig, resulting in some arguably intentional mishaps in their spellwork.

You've just latched your bag closed when James takes it from you and slings it over his shoulder without giving it much thought. He’s always absentmindedly doing you little favors, like it's his second nature.

"So, Cody has nothing better to do on a Friday night, why am I not surprised?" James says teasingly. "He’s insisting we hit the library and get a head start on the project. You free right now?"

"I'm free," you confirm, looking over James' shoulder at your group mates.

You hate group projects for a multitude of reasons. At least with most Ravenclaws— especially the two you're partnered with, Cody and Isla— you don't have to worry about them not carrying their weight.

This makes your main concern having to work with people you don't know that well. All you did know about them is that they're the kind of Ravenclaws that other Ravenclaws say give them a bad rap. They have a raging superiority complex, and you’d be surprised that James is okay to work with them if you didn't know him. That boy thinks he can make a friend out of anyone, save for some rivals he has in Slytherin.

So, you’re mostly surprised that they want to work with the two of you, but that probably has something to do with James being at the top of the class. Otherwise, they wouldn't normally branch out to students outside of their house.

You suddenly feel uneasy, realizing that for this project, you’ll be the student that the others are weary of not pulling their weight. You feel your hands get clammy over the potential judgement running through Cody and Isla's heads as James leads you over to them.

"Are we going or what?" Cody asks rather unmannerly.

James opens the door for everyone, "Lead the way."

You filter out into the hallway. Soon, the four of you fall in step with each other as James throws an arm around your shoulders.

"How long are we planning to spend on this today?" Isla asks.

"Well, if we dedicate the afternoon to it, we could get all of the research out of the way in one go." Cody responds.

James meets your eye with a sideways glance, and an entire conversation is shared through a couple facial expressions.

His lips curl into a knowing half-smile, See? No plans.

Your eyes twitch with amusement before they shift toward the pair. A microscopic scrunch of your nose conveys, I don't want to spend the whole day with these people.

His face contorts, Me neither, and he shakes his head, we can't anyway.

Your head tilts curiously.

"We have plans later," James verbalizes.

"We do?"

“Sirius got his record player repaired.” James smirks, “And I may have some butterbeer and a certain record waiting for us back at my dorm.”

Your eyes widen with excitement, “James, you didn’t!”

“Oh, but I did.” James says proudly.

“Sorry,” Cody interrupts, “you can’t work on the project tonight because you have to go listen to music?” Cody asks, and the rhetoric nature and judgmental tone are lost on you.

You dive into an explanation on how it’s not just any music, but your favorite band’s brand album. And not just that, but the limited edition record complete with bonus tracks not available anywhere else.

The record was wildly out of your budget and although record stores far and wide all received copies, they didn’t receive very many. You had accepted that you would likely never get your hands on a copy, but you hadn’t accounted for James’ readiness to move mountains at your whim.

You excitedly speak about your favorite band and everything you know about the new record, and it’s like you can’t get the words out fast enough. James listens intently, grinning widely and nodding along with your every word, interjecting occasionally with commentary of his own. You're too busy raving to notice the shared look between Cody and Isla.

"Is this supposed to be a private conversation or are we expected to understand you?" Isla sneers as the four of you reach the library doors.

James' grin falters as watches your excitement fade. You mumble out an apology, which James found completely unnecessary.

His tone flattens out from amused to deadpanned as he addresses Cody's earlier question, both to alleviate some attention from you and to deliberately ignore Isla, "We'll stay for an hour, maybe two. But after that, yeah, we're going to go listen to music with our friends."

Ever the gentleman, even when annoyed, he holds the library's door open for everyone. He eyes the back of Isla's head with offense as she passes, but his eyes soften when you walk through next.

The four of you quickly find a table, as not many are occupied to begin with.

James musters up a semblance of professionalism as he forces himself to stop glaring at Isla as she and Cody begin to discuss a plan for the project. Cody takes it upon himself to divide up areas of research without consulting the rest of the table.

"Hold on," James' brows furrow at his audacity, "What if I don't want to be in charge of researching the wand mechanics? And Y/N has an exceptional understanding of magical theory, she should be in charge of the magical formulas."

Cody and Isla's eyes fall on you and this time you don't miss their criticism.

"You have an exceptional understanding of magical theory?" Isla's face contorts into that familiar sneer.

James doesn't try to hide the way he rolls his eyes. He nudges you, "What was it you were saying earlier? The idea you had for the project?"

You gulp before you dive into an explanation. It feels like Cody and Isla were burning holes through you with their stares, so you try to distract yourself by gazing down at your hands as you them wring together.

In the middle of your explanation—

"Couldn't you at least look up so that I might have a chance at reading your lips?" Cody grumbles.

If looks could kill, James Potter would be a wanted man.

"S- sorry," you practically squeak. You do look up, but the glare on Cody's face intimidates you into mumbling even more. Even the most skilled lip reader wouldn't have a clue as to what you are saying.

"Merlin, could you just speak up?" Cody snaps his fingers in your face and your words die in your throat.

James suddenly wishes he had a beater's bat handy.

"Oi! Get your hand outta her face!" He raises his voice to levels that would surely attract Madam Pince's shushing any minute.

Cody retracts his hand but stands by his actions, "We'll hardly get anything done today if she can't even speak clearly. How do you expect me to deal with this?"

"Alright then, new plan," James says through gritted teeth. He stands abruptly, and his chair scrapes loudly across the floor as it shoved back by his sudden ascent. "The two of us will research the wand mechanics and magical formulas on our own, you two can have the rest. I'll let you know where we'll go from there next class."

James' hand finds yours in a grip that is surprisingly gentle considering the way he is currently conducting himself. He tugs on your hand, prompting you to rise from your own seat.

"You're just going to leave?" Isla asks.

At the same time, Cody protests the plan, "There's no way that I'm accepting that."

"Well, Cody, if you wanted to be in charge, then I guess you shouldn't have been such a cun–"

"James!" This time you're loud enough to speak over James' biting words.

"See you in class" are James' parting words to the very stunned Cody as he pulls you away from the scene.

Once in the hall, James can't help himself from raging over Cody's behavior.

"What a slimy git! Who does he think he is?"

You squeeze the hand that James still has wrapped around yours as he tugs you through the halls.

"James," you call gently.

"Don't know why I said yes to working with them. They basically cornered me, I'll have you know! I should've ran the other way when I saw them–"

"James," you try again, more firmly.

"Maybe if we talk to Minnie on Monday we can get our group switched. You don't suppose we can work with Sirius and Remus considering these extenuating circumstances?"

You dig your feet into the floor, "James!" you call out one last time, finally earning his attention.

James spins to face you, his hold on your hand not letting up.

"Yeah?"

"Calm down, would you?" You're voice comes out tinged with laughter.

James' troubles melt away at the sound of your laughter. His eyes search your face for any sign that it's false.

"You're not upset?" he asks, knowing you've been sensitive in the past to people's commentary on the way you talk.

"No, the look on Cody's face when we stormed away was healing enough."

This earned a laugh from James, "It was pretty satisfying."

James gives your hand another tug so that you fall into step with each other again. He only drops his hold on you to sling his arm over your shoulders.

"Dunno why people become such dunces around you." A playful smirk dances on James' lips, "Distracted by that pretty face, maybe, whereas I know how to multitask."

You shake your head at his antics, but your lips can't be stopped from curling into a grin.

"I can't deny the fact that you're the only one who seems to always hear me."

In the past, you've considered the possibility that James can always tell what you're saying because you feel more comfortable around him than anyone else, prompting you to speak more clearly. In actuality, James doesn't even need your words to know what you're thinking. He's known you for a long time, and he's spent every minute of it learning everything there is to know about you. By now, he might know you better than he knows himself.

"I guess I just might be the luckiest guy around, then, that I don't have to miss a second of your charm."

You sigh at his teasing and knock your shoulder into his, completely missing the genuine adoration in his eyes as he studies the way you smile at his words.

He can't wait to see how your smile looks when you find out that record he got you is signed.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[haveihitanerve]

Okay but what if the reason/way bruce gets found out as batman is the way he handles his kids? Like- Bruce Wayne at a Gala, about to cut the ribbon or some shi when he casually reaches over and yanks Jason Todd-Wayne away from some old lady and pulls him to his side without even batting an eye, and similarly Batman tends to tug on Red Hood’s arm and force interactions- or Damian Wayne is about to throw hands with this snobby kid when Bruce Wayne walks past and snatches him up by the scruff of his shirt without even glancing down and carries the seething child away, very close to the way Batman will manhandle Robin away from goons or villains before the child breaks the no killing rule- Bruce Wayne seems to have the same exasperated fondness for Stephanie Brown-Wayne as Batman does for Spoiler, and the way Batman is only truly comfortable in a new environment is if Nightwing is there is very alike to how Bruce Wayne seems to relax more once his eldest child arrives. Not to mention how both of them seemingly don't flinch at all when randomly a girl drops from the ceiling and lands on their shoulders in very similar poses…

[toppersbitch]

sebastian sallowxF!reader with the prompt ❛ keep it. it looks better on you. ❜

Keep It, It's Yours // Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Characters are not aged up here, there is nothing 18+

Summary: Sebastian just loves the way green looks on you!

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: none this is just fluff

Prompt: “Keep it. it looks better on you.”

-----------------------------

You lay on the lawn just near the lake on the Hogwarts grounds, watching the clouds hurry by. Sebastian was dead asleep, his body resting just beside yours. It was a warm day, the last day before summer break began. You would go back home and so would Seb, far away from each other. It was heartbreaking; the two of you had been close since you started in year 5, and now it was the end of year 6. Your teachers despised the two of you, you got in double the trouble. No real feelings had ever been spoken between the two of you, little touches of the hand and knee, words were spoken during late nights and in hidden tunnels. 

“Seb,” you said lightly, pushing your shoulder up against his. He opened his eyes, turning his head to make eye contact, “I think we should jump in the lake,”

“But it is forbidden,” he was mocking one of your teachers, he rolled over onto his side, and you did the same. 

“Who told you that?” no teacher had ever said that and unless it was told to him before year 5, you’d never heard it.

“I don’t know,” he rubbed his eyes with his hand. You smiled, Sebastian always assumed everything at the school was off-limits, that's what it seemed like to him. 

You sat up, untying your boots and setting them to the side, evening was approaching. The sun has almost gone behind the outline of the castle. Seb sat up groggily, following your steps. You had already packed your robes into your trunk, your clothes being strictly casual since then. Why not jump in your clothes? It was shower day anyways. Seb stood up, waiting for you, his hand outstretched. His foot tapped impatiently, mocking you as you placed your hair up. 

Grabbing his hand you hoisted yourself up, holding tight and running towards the lake. You waded in quickly, pulling Seb behind you. The mud squished between your toes, moss, and lake vines snaking up your body.

“I sure hope the squid doesn’t get us,” Seb pinched at your legs, and you squealed, kicking at his hands. You splashed each other, the water feeling refreshing over your sunbaked skin. Laughing at little jokes and such. He lifted you throwing you deeper into the lake, swimming with ease out to you. You held onto each other, the sadness of this week's end events. 

“Seb,” you pulled his eyes from the ducks her was watching, “ I hate summer.”

“Why on earth would you hate summer?’ his eyes carried nothing but confusion.

“I hate not being with you,” you felt your heart grow heavy, “it's so boring.”

“Floo powder is a thing you know,” he had a sarcastic tone, his house fireplace wasn’t connected to the network and neither was yours. 

“Seb you know what I mean,” you rolled your eyes at him. 

“Yeah I know,” you both trailed off, looking around. Night had fallen fast and it had grown surprisingly cold. Your body shivered, teeth chattering involuntarily. However, you stayed, anytime with Sebastian was worth it's total in gold. The bell rang, meaning it was time for dinner, no matter if you two actually made it, Sebastian had an in with the house elves and they’d do just about anything he asked.

“Let’s go back,” you said, your voice quivering from the cold. You swam back, every motion sending chills. The outside air wasn’t much warmer, the air consuming your body. You shivered, tying your shoes and waiting.

“Here take my sweater,” Sebastian offered his knit sweater had been wearing all day. You pulled it over your head, the smell of Seb filling your lungs. 

“Why don’t you wear green more?” Sebastian was staring at you, his robes hanging over his shoulder like a used bath towel. 

You were a Slytherin of course, but you opted for the least amount of green in all your clothing, black fabrics being the majority in your closet. You shrugged, in response beginning the walk back to the castle. 

You both skipped dinner,  opting to take showers and sneak out again later for a snack, possibly in the restricted basement of the library, this was a favorite meeting spot for the two of you. You dressed, pulling over Sebastionas sweater again. It was possibly the coziest thing you’d ever put on, the Slytherin rooms were known for being cold, the walls being all stones. 

“I got us lamb chops and eclairs,” Sebastian sat roughly on the floor, a bag of food falling into your lap. You emptied out the contents, chowing down. The conversation flowed effortlessly, jokes and laughs, even snorts echoed off the cement walls. It was late, even the ghosts were quiet and you no longer had to occasionally hide from them. 

“I don’t wanna go home,” you said, your head resting on Sebastian’s shoulder, his on top of yours. You twirled your wand in your hand, watching little sparks fly with just your thoughts. 

“Either do I, but we have to,” his words were tired and slurred, he was half asleep and you knew it. You stood up, pushing your mess back into the bag, and helping Sebastian stand, you both stood facing each other, tears welling in your eyes. There was no promise you would be able to say goodbye tomorrow. You wiped your eyes on the sleeves, the green fabric soaking the up. 

“Oh here's your sweater,” you pulled it over your head, wadding it up and stuffing it into Sebastian’s hands, he grabbed it tightly, letting his hands graze yours. He pulled you into a tight hug, beginning to sniffle himself. 

The next morning was hard, shoving the rest of your belonging into your trunk, and finding places for the trinkets you collected this year. Moving onto your desk you saw a specific green sweater folded neatly, a note pinned to it. You hurried over grabbing the note eagerly. 

It read: “Keep it. It looks better on you anyways” signed Seb

His sloppy handwriting is barely legible. How on earth did he sneak this in here before leaving? He was such a mysterious being.

You folded the note, slipping it into your journal, holding the sweater to your chest. Seb had already gone home, and this was all you had of him for the summer, other than the letters of course.

-----------------------------

God this is so cute!!!!!! I hope this everyone enjoys <3333

Find my other stuff HERE

[queer-n-here]

Making Poe/Sigma ride a dildo PLS.

Also you're a great writer

Hey, thanks! Hope you like this one, too.

Also, I fucking love Sigma. I fucking love him. Him and Tanizaki are the two characters that I simp so hard for I would do anything to have them.

Contents: Making Sigma ride a dildo cuz you had a wet dream about it

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, masturbation, sex toys, nipple play.

It had been on your mind for a while now. More accurately, ever since you'd had that dream about Sigma riding a dildo like a bitch in heat, eyes glued to yours and hands bracing against the floor.

You wondered now, stepping into your shared room at the Sky Casino with a bag in your hand, if Sigma would agree to your little request.

You found him sitting at his desk the way you always did. Him, hunched over numerous sheets of paper spread out so he could see all of them at once. You walked over to him, wrapping an arm around Sigma's shoulder and placing a kiss on his temple.

He barely even looked up, murmuring a, "Welcome back," half-heartedly. You didn't mind, ruffling his hair gently and putting down the bag in your hands on the bedside table to go freshen up. When you emerged from the shower, hair dripping water onto the fabric of your T-shirt, neither Sigma nor the bag had moved. You plopped down on the bed, grabbing your phone to pass time.

"Say, baby," You said casually, and Sigma hummed to show that he was listening. "I went down today for an emergency supply run."

'Down' meant back to the surface of earth.

"Mm-hmm," Sigma's eyes were still glued to his paperwork. "See anything interesting?"

You couldn't help but smirk at his words. "Why, I did actually."

"Hmm," Was his only reply, attention stolen completely by his work.

You didn't mind; being in a relationship with someone with the personality of Sigma had that requirement of patience. His work could wrap him around him like deadly vines sometimes. Only when it started suffocating him could you step in, beating back its branches and freeing your boyfriend from them.

And Sigma himself had agreed to your suggestion that after 10 o'clock, he should forget work and just be your boyfriend. So you waited.

The very second the clock in your room struck ten, you threw your phone down and left the bed, going to stand over Sigma instead. You bent down, and picked Sigma up from his chair, making him yelp in surprise and latch onto your neck for balance.

"[Name], what-" He began, but you cut him off.

"It's ten," You jutted your head towards the clock.

Sigma glanced at it, sighed, and then wrapped his arms more firmly around your neck, his expression resigned. "Fine."

You grinned unapologetically, and carried him to the bed, setting him down on the soft mattress and laying down beside him on your side, an elbow propped up against the bed to support your head up with your hand.

"So," You said, looking down at Sigma with a mischievous combination of a smile and smirk plastered on your face. "Did you hear what I said earlier about going down for an emergency run?"

He racked his brains. "Oh, yeah, you said you saw something interesting. What was it?"

Your smile-smirk-combination turned into a full smirk, and you reached over to the bedside table to grab the bag you'd brought with you, depositing it on Sigma's chest carefully.

"Is it a present?" His face lit up, eyes shining as he scrambled to sit up to open the bag.

"Mn," You nodded, eyes glued to that expression of his. "Two, actually. One of them is for you, and the other one might be for me."

Sigma frowned. "But if you brought it for yourself then-"

"Just open it," You raised your head to kiss his lips gently. "Either way you're gonna use it."

He shrugged, "Okay," and reached into the bag. The first thing he pulled out was a small jewellery box made of oak wood, its surface shiny and well-polished. His face lit up again, throwing you an excited glance before opening it, making you smile at him fondly.

It was a silver bracelet, somehow sturdy and delicate at the same time, which was why it had reminded you of Sigma when you'd seen it in the glass case of a jewellery shop you'd been passing.

"It's beautiful," Sigma said, looking up at you with that ecstatic expression on his pretty face.

"You like it?" You asked, and he nodded earnestly. "That's good, then."

You sat up to place a soft kiss on his forehead, and he turned to hug you tightly.

"Thank you," He whispered against your chest as you stroked the back of his head. "I'll cherish it."

You smiled. It felt so good to be able to make him smile, it was surreal.

Sigma got up from the bed to carefully put the bracelet in a drawer, face all split from that wide smile on it. He returned for the second gift, the one you had deliberately placed lower in the bag so he would see it later.

Sitting down next to you again, he took up the bag and reached into it for a second time. When he pulled his hand out, sitting on his hand, all innocent looking and perfectly stationary, was a bright purple dildo.

His eyes widened, and a heavy blush rose up to his cheeks. He dropped it back into the bag, turning to you accusingly as his face burned with shame.

You met his gaze with a calm one of yours, smirking. "How d'you like it?"

Ten minutes later, you received the answer to your question.

You had somehow managed to convince a very flustered Sigma into cooperating with your plans. Now, he was on the floor next to you, hole tight and pathetic around the dildo that you'd stuck to the floor.

You sat close to him, letting him clutch your shirt in his hands as he huffed and panted, eyes wet and shoulders shaking.

"I think you're ready to move now, right, baby?" You asked, supporting most of his weight as he leaned against you.

Sigma nodded, and slowly began moving. He raised his hips till only the tip of the dildo was in him, before engulfing the entire thing again. His thighs shook, and moans spilled from his pretty mouth as he began riding it. You let him bury his head into your chest, knowing full well the shame that made him red now would be gone soon.

Sigma began gaining a rhythm slowly, his hips speeding up as your hand reached for your own waistband. Supporting him with one hand, you used the other to pull your cock free from its retraints. You began stroking just as Sigma's moans grew louder, each thrust of the dildo against his gummy walls making him more breathless than before.

"Look at me, baby," You said, hands fast on your cock.

He did, fingers of both his hands clenching you so tight you wondered if he'd be able to tear your skin through the shirt. His eyes were leaking tears down either side of his red face, and his sweat-soaked and messy hair was sticking to his forehead. His eyes were wide, pupils all blown out and blurred up. You leaned down and kissed him, swallowing each of his moans as he bounced on the dildo.

You continued jerking off to the sight of your boyfriend riding that dildo, knowing full well it could have been your cock if you'd asked for that instead.

"Move faster, baby," You told him, and with tears streaming down his face, he did as he was told.

As Sigma bounced wildly, your eyes glued themselves to the point where the dildo plunged in and out of his already swollen hole. He bit his lips, throwing his head back and letting you lower your head to bite at his pale flesh and kiss his nipples. His shame, as you had predicted, had already vaporized into thin air, and he made eye contact with you as he rode the dildo, mouth open and spilling lewd sounds. You licked and bit and kissed and teased to your heart's content as Sigma's body moved beneath your lips.

Soon, his moans turned into cries, and his movements grew sloppily and wilder, arms wrapping around your neck desperately and pulling you closer. Your hand sped up around your cock, knowing from his mannerisms that Sigma was close to his orgasm.

"Let's finish together, hmm?" You said, and Sigma nodded, leaning up to catch your lips in a kiss.

You reached over with your free hand to stroke his length, making him gasp and try to pull away, but you held on firm. You stroked both cocks in rhythm till he was crying, burying his face into your chest and just sobbing, his orgasm strong and unavoidable as it washed over him.

Ropes of cum shot out of your cock as Sigma collapsed onto you, breathless and tired. You reached forwards to pull him up and away from the dildo and onto you, wrapping both your arms around his shaking frame.

You let him calm down and come down from his high, stroking his back and pressing kisses into his temple. Soon, he pulled away to look at you, tears dried on his cheeks.

"Was that good?" He asked.

You nodded, smiling. "So good, baby. Now that you've had practice, d'you wanna try the real thing?"

Sigma's eyes widened, and he flushed impossibly darker.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 9

Weeks pass, and their evening phone calls continue. The timing varies, but its a rare day that Kara doesn't hear from Lena. Each call feels like a gift, as Kara remains conscious of the constraints on Lena's time, and the energy expended on days she does her shows.

But on those rare evenings where her phone stays quiet, Kara can't help the concern that tickles at the back of her mind. She manages to refrain from issuing a check in, certain that it would be considered a nag, or at the very least an entitlement to Lena's time.

The morning following one such evening, the first text she receives comes in after she settles behind her desk, ready to tackle a mountain of paperwork. When she opens the chat window, she's confused to see an image of a glass-paned wall of an office building.

It's not until she spots the building number that she realizes that it's *her* building.

She all but sprints to the lobby, bursting through the front doors to come to a sudden stop to see a black suv and a casually dressed Lena Luthor leaning against it.

When Lena beams, warmth pools in Kara's chest. She surges back into motion, breathlessly throwing her arms around Lena to squeeze long and hard.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Lena says into her shoulder, seemingly content to remain in Kara's embrace as long as possible.

Kara laughs. "The best surprise. I've missed you."

When she pulls back, Lena all but bounces on her toes. "You down to play hookie with me?"

"Dodging another meeting?"

"Actually.... I miiiiight have cleared my schedule." From her puckish grin, Lena doesn't appear to feel all that guilty about it.

Kara's heart skips a beat. She can't remember the last time anyone has ever set aside time dedicated to her. It's been years since her last real committed relationship, and even then the time she spent with her partner had been perfunctory, a matter of course. It hadn't made her feel... special.

"Let me grab my purse."

---

They go to the movies. It's Lena's idea, but Kara is the one to choose the goofy comedy that has Lena in stitches before the end of the first act. And if the sound of Lena's giggling heats Kara's cheeks, who could blame her?

They continue to snack on their bucket of popcorn even as they leave the theater. Lena wears the same denim jacket over a zip up hoodie that she'd worn their first day in the park, and with her sunglass firmly in place, she almost looks like a normal person. No one seems to give them a second glance, for which Kara is deeply grateful for.

Selfishly, she wants to keep Lena for herself, for as long as possible.

"When's the last time you went on vacation?" Lena asks, apropro of nothing.

Kara blinks at the unexpected question. She takes time off every year, but she doubts her little staycations to relax and recharge are what Lena would consider a proper break.

"Define vacation," Kara hedges.

Lena laughs. "Time away, somewhere else. Maybe... with someone?"

Sensing the direction the conversation is headed, a thrill of adventure sparks in Kara's belly, even as she begins to talk her way out of it.

"Lena, I don't know..."

"I know, I know, but listen! I've got five days before my next show in Paris, and it's the longest stretch I'll have free for months, and... I want to spend those five days with you."

Kara stares at her. Lena rushes to fill the silence.

"We could go to Capri. Or the alps, if you want somewhere cooler? Or--"

"Yes," Kara interjects. Lena's rambling halts in surprise. Kara grins. "I don't care where we go."

Lena's answering smile puts the sun to shame.

---

Capri is gorgeous. Kara expects to them to be taken to another lavish hotel, but instead their driver heads to residential area, and when they stop, Kara finds herself at the gate of a sprawling villa.

"Wow."

Lena nudges her playfully. "Wait til you see the real view.

Kara follows Lena's lead. Carry-ons in hand, they make their way into the main area of the villa. When Lena places her bag on one of the long couches in the middle of the room, Kara does the same, then allows Lena to lead her by the hand to the verandah at the back.

The whitewashed terrace serves as the perfect frame for the vista that sprawls beyond the walled perimeter of the villa, all the way down to flat stretch of ocean reaching towards the horizon.

"Wow..." Kara breathes.

"I know, right?" Lena turns, sidling a little closer to press a chaste kiss to the corner of Kara's jaw. When her head rested on Kara's shoulder, Kara let her cheek rest atop it. "I'm glad you're here."

Kara sighs, surprisingly content. "Me too."

---

Though the villa's kitchen is fully stocked and equipped, Lena insists on going out for dinner. "I'm not about to stay in on a night like tonight," she says, and Kara offers little protest.

They choose the restaurant on sight alone, and the food is sumptuous and, once the sun goes down, decorated with a blanket of stars overhead. Lena looks stunning in a white shift dress, perfect for the weather and venue, and Kara's gaze roves in a certainly non-platonic way. She only feels a little bad about it when Lena catches her staring.

The other woman's gaze deepens as she reads Kara's appreciation in her expression, and a knowing smile curls her lips. When Lena's bare foot brushes Kara's shin beneath the table, Kara can't bring herself to pull away. She wants Lena, and she's rapidly running out of reasons to talk herself out of it.

Along the walk back to the villa, Kara points out as many constellations as she can recognize, only for Lena to laugh.

"There is no way I could possibly tell which stars you're pointing at," she says.

Rather than be deterred, Kara pulls them to stop. She positions herself behind Lena, her front pressing close against Lena's back. So close that she can feel the hitch of Lena's breath when Kara reaches one arm over her right shoulder, pointing at the brilliant anchor of the big dipper.

"There. You've got the bright one, which is Polaris. The north star. Follow it that way, and you can see the rest of Ursa Major."

Kara turns her chin to gaze down at Lena. The younger woman's skin glows in the moonlight, her hair nearly merging into the shadows. She looks ethereal against the moonlight off the sea, but in Kara's arms she's all to tangible.

"See it?"

"Yeah," Lena croaks. She tries again. "Yeah, I do." She shifts, reaching back to let one hand rest against Kara's hip. The touch is intimate though non-sexual-- a simple gesture to keep Kara exactly where she is. "Show me more?"

Kara does. She's able to point out most of the greeks-- Orion and Cassiopeia and Andromeda, among others. It's at least another hour before they get back to the villa, and the long walk leaves them melting into the couch the moment they sit.

Unable to keep from dozing off, even with the lights blazing, Kara wakes hours later to find Lena asleep on her shoulder. It doesn't even occur to her to move.

When next she wakes, however, Lena is nowhere to be found. Sunlight streams through the tall arched windows, illuminating the spacious room with a pale light that doesn't help this trip feel any less like a dream.

Stretching the kinks out of her back as she rises, Kara meanders to the kitchen, only to find it similarly empty. From there she explores the adjoining hallways, until the sound of hushed, harsh murmurs draws her towards one of the bedrooms.

Peeking through the open door, Kara spies Lena pacing, phone pressed tightly to her ear in agitation. Kara can't discern her words, but her tone is clear enough-- something is wrong.

Lena looks up when Kara gives the door a light push, and Kara is taken aback by the tears glittering in her eyes. Lena turns away slightly, muttering a swift "I have to go," before ending the call.

"I'm sorry," Lena grinds out, turning back towards Kara. "This-- this was a terrible idea, and I-- I shouldn't have pushed it--"

"Whoa, hey..." Kara interrupts gently. "What's wrong?"

Lena sniffs, before unlocking her phone to give to Kara. There, in all their telephoto glory, are a slew of photos-- of them. Here in Capri. One of them captures the moment Lena had kissed Kara's jaw the day before on the terrace, and others track their trek through the village and their dinner at the restaurant. The last one shows the two of them at the outlook, Lena pressed to Kara's front, with Kara's arm stretching towards the stars.

"I know--" Lena's voice cracks. "I know you didn't want this. That you didn't-- want to be seen with me."

Kara frowns. Papparazzi hasn't even been a thought in her mind, beyond one of their outings being interrupted by people hounding Lena. Her concern-- her *only* hesitation to committing towards something deeper-- has been the dread of losing Lena before having more than a taste of her.

"I swear, I didn't know they knew where we'd be," Lena continues. By now, quiet tears have spilled down her cheeks. "I didn't *know*--"

"Hey," Kara says sofly, cupping Lena's damp cheeks with both hands. "It's okay."

Lena shakes her head. "It's not," she croaks. "You didn't want this..."

"I want you."

The confession comes easier than Kara expects. It stills Lena to a mere tremble, her eyes taking on a hopeful glimmer through the tears.

"Anything else, I'll handle it."

Lena swallows, throat clicking. "*We'll* handle it?" she corrects, tentatively.

Offering a smile, Kara leans in and presses a soft kiss to Lena's lips.

"We," Kara confirms.

Lena exhales, tension bleeding from her in a visible whoosh. She steps Kara's arms when they open, nestling herself into the embrace as her hands grip tightly against Kara's shoulderblades.

"We'll do it together."

[quotidian-oblivion]

How I picture Leon finds out that Merlin has magic:

Merlin was tired.

Not because of the abundance of chores and the fatigue that came from running around after yet another assassin, but because he hadn't used his magic at all for the past month. Yes, even with the presence of the assassin. Gwaine had fortunately been there to knock the guy out and throw him in the dungeons, catching him red-handed.

He had been trying to stay as cautious as possible, which was why he hadn't used magic in such a long time.

But the fact was - Merlin was born with magic. It was as natural as breathing to him. So when he didn't use magic for an extended period of time, he would get tired.

He needed to use magic. Just a small bit.

He would do it in the safety of his room, but he was currently carrying Arthur's armor to his chambers from the training field and it was heavy and he was so so tired and- well, it would only be a small spell.

He put the armor down, checked that no one was around, then held up a palm. His eyes flashed gold and a small fire appeared on top of it.

Just because he had missed his magic, he flashed his eyes gold and made the flame morph into a butterfly. He smiled as it slowly flapped its wings, staying on Merlin's palm.

Then Merlin heard a gasp and he snapped his head to the newcomer.

The thing about knights was that they were trained to be as quiet as possible even in armor. It was required for certain missions as well as hunting. But armor was impossible to be quiet, so Merlin, having spent a significant amount of time with them, had trained himself to automatically hear when they were approaching. And since they were always in their armor anyway, even sleeping in it sometimes, he had relied on that to alert him of anyone crossing the hallway.

After all, anyone else - servants and nobles alike - wouldn't bother quieting their footsteps while walking.

If they did, it would be because of malicious intent so it wouldn't matter if they saw Merlin or not.

But occasionally - very very occassionally - knights walked around without their armor.

That, combined with their light footsteps and silent movements, had caught Merlin unaware.

So when he snapped his head over to look at Leon staring with wide eyes at the butterfly made of flame in his hand, Merlin was surprised. More than that, he was afraid.

The two of them froze, with Leon's gaze on the fire butterfly and Merlin's on Leon, standing rigidly like deers caught in the wild.

Then Leon raised his eyes from the butterfly to Merlin, then back to the butterfly, then back to Merlin again-

Before he spun on his heel and walked the other way whistling jovially like he hadn't seen anything.

Merlin was still frozen like a deer. He didn't move until several minutes later when he did hear armor clinking against each other. That was when he got rid of the butterfly and hefted the armor up, walking back to his room, leaving Arthur's armor in favor of panicking.

~

When Merlin met Leon in the armory that evening, he tried to approach him. Leon, recognizing what Merlin was trying to do, let him, moving into a secluded changing room far from the armory with the other knights and squires and pages.

Leon nodded at Merlin in greeting when Merlin closed the door.

"Leon," Merlin started. "What you saw-"

"That you were shirking Arthur's chores? No worries. I didn't give you away before, I won't do so now."

Merlin blinked. "What?"

Leon sighed. "Look, Merlin. I don't get paid enough, even as a knight. Not with all those missions and calamities that keep getting Arthur into trouble. So I refuse to deal with anything above my paygrade. Even you avoiding chores."

Merlin blinked again.

Leon clapped a hand on his shoulder, and with a smile, left the room.

Merlin looked after the knight, wondering for the first time, exactly how many times the knight had committed or aided or turned a blind eye against treason for him to be this casual about it.

[pedgito]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄 | Tommy Miller x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | tommy's on a path for revenge and you're his unfortunate baggage.

author's note | this is a small blurb for a future series for tommy. for context: joel revenge tour, forced proximity, reader is baggage to tommy, and also mean!tommy. him and maria have already separated before he leaves to go after abby & the group. so if it’s easier to consider this au, please do. this is unbeta'd and based off this post.

content warning | 18+ smut, eluding to past hookups, undefined age gap, tommy is a broken shell of himself, manhandling, a moment of softness from tommy but mostly selfishness, unprotected p in v, mentions of not pulling out. the tommy brainrot is in full effect y'all.

word count —1.4k

He doesn’t touch you like this unless he wants something.

A hand up your back, under your shirt as you bend down to throw more kindling into the fire, taking the broken twigs from his hand.

You feel it, tense slightly as you toss the sticks into the pool of flames and rise, turning your head over your shoulder. 

He’s got that distant smile that doesn’t ever reach his eyes, not anymore. The thing with Tommy is that when he smiled, or used to anyways, it was a full body reaction.

His eyes light up, the lines around his mouth creasing as he grinned and the subtle twitch or flex of his hands as he tried to contain himself. As dark as you’ve seen him lately, you knew that Tommy was still buried underneath. Deep, deep down.

“It was once,” you remind him, eyes flicking down at his now empty hands pressing against your hip, slowly caressing its way over your stomach and slipping underneath the fabric there, sandwiched in by both of his hands as he nudged you to turn and face him, “—we agreed, Tommy.”

“You can keep tellin’ yourself that,” Tommy argues, “s’far as I remember you did a whole lotta talkin’ and you still haven’t told me stop,” his hands settling against your waist, squeezing the flesh under his fingertips, “you want me to stop?” 

Your eyes follow the path of his fingertips as they clutch the end of your shirts and push up, dragging it up until your skin is bared to him, knuckles dragging over the surface. It was heat, pure heat. Different from the sweltering flames at your sides. It was hunger.

So strong, unbridled. If he wasn’t thinking about this, he was thinking about them. Or him. He has nightmares every night, ones you’ve learned to let him ride out. The one attempt to pull him out ended with you on your ass and a knife to your throat, skin nicked from the sharp blade pressing into your chin.

You shake your head so slightly you aren’t expecting him to catch it, but he does. “That’s right,” he nods, his hand raising to brush against the underside of your chin, thumb dragging over your cheek, “look at me.”

Hesitantly, you do. Heart hammering in your chest you dare, staring back at his unrestrained gaze. There wasn’t admiration or fondness, nothing like that. But, there was understanding.

You help me, I help you.

Mutually assured destruction.

The force of your kiss as you rush into him sends him stumbling, feet hitting the edge of a table before he’s collapsing in an old chair, creaking under the weight of you both.

His head presses against the back of the chair, kissing you back soundly, sloppily as he tongue dives—digs into your mouth and licks away the built up frustration you’ve carried for the past week.

It tastes like resentment and anger, things you couldn’t say to him—things he wouldn’t say himself. It was a dangerous dance that has begun to play out for you both.

He reaches blindly for your jeans, popping the metal button and attempting to squeeze his hand between the snug material and your underwear, struggling with the angle and how desperately your pressing yourself into him as you pull at his hair, dark locks tangled around your fingers and he grunts, heaving out a heavy sigh.

“Get ‘em off,” he orders casually, rubbing his hands against the denim as he pushes you away, mirror your movements as he strips himself of a few more layers; coat, flannel, shoving his pants just far enough down his knees that by the time yours are off he’s ready for your hurried approach.

You climb back over his lap, a salacious grin on his face as you mount him, “alright, atta girl,” followed by a soft catch of his breath as you wrap your palm around his shaft, tugging leisurely as his cock hardens from your touch, brow pinched as he watches, “—careful, honey.”

He joins your hand, using the force of his thumb on his opposite hand as it wraps around yours to press the head of his cock between your cunt, slipping between your folds and notching himself against your clit.

Before you can even think to speak, his hand is wrapping around the back of your neck, pulling it taut in his grip as he forces you still, gaze locked on his own as he pushes inside of you.

He’s already worked up, functioning on pure adrenaline and rage the past few days, knowing that he would soon hit a wall, but not before he allowed himself this. A gentle whine squeezing from your throat as he bucks his hips into you slowly, watching the desperate clench of your jaw as you swallow, eyes falling closed.

If it weren’t for the fireplace, he’d be acting off feel alone—like the last time. A back alley in the decrepit city of Seattle and the low hum of infected in the nearby area. Hand over your mouth, fingers circling of your clit as he fucked you against the moss-covered brick wall. 

There was no preamble. Only a look, a deep growl of anger as he snapped and you allowed him to take his emotions out on you—given you were a big reason why his trip wasn’t going off without a hitch like he’d expected.

You were ruining it, dragging him down, but he couldn't just let you go—you were too far from Jackson, too far from home. 

“Not gonna be the last time,” you inquire, a breathlessness to your voice as you worked your hips back against him, fingers digging into the material of his shirt and feeling the flex of his abdomen underneath, the sharp snap of his hips as pistons himself into you, “is it?”

Tommy leans forward suddenly, hand pressing against your back for support as you yelp softly, fingers pulling in his hair in a reactionary manner but it makes him curse. Your body goes fuzzy at the aggression in his tone, clenching around him out of instinct. 

“You tell me,” Tommy counters, “you sneak outta Jackson, you follow me here, you fuck up my plans—and you just think—“

“Think what?”

“I ain’t that dense, honey,” He snarks, “you’ve been eyein’ me for weeks. He said you were good, mindful—but you are just nothin’ but goddamn trouble.”

He didn't need to say his name, you knew.

You smirk at his assumption of you, a small laugh bubbling from your chest as you fight for the upper hand, pressing him back into the chair against his hardened grip, almost avoiding the nudge of his mouth as he leans in for a hungry kiss, his palms squeezing at your ass cheeks so tight that it pulls you forward too, your foreheads colliding quick and sharp, a collective groan of pain erupting from you both.

It’s in the quiet lull of a look, as Tommy rubs at the sore spot on his forehead that you find yourself laughing—soft and wistful as you rock back, his cock still buried inside of you.

In an instant his hands are at your hips, gripping tight as his lips pull in a thin line, whatever semblance of a smile he did have was quickly gone and focused on you—or more so, the point where your cunt was sucking him in and squeezing, so tight he feels like he might come just like that

“Ease up,” he chokes out, the sweat on his brow glistening with the glow of the fireplace, “keep squeezin’ my cock like that and I’ll come right now.”

You grin, a soft snicker slipping past your lips.

“Is that a threat?”

“No,” Tommy offers in a softer tone, “but I ain’t finished with you yet—so ease up.” It ignites the coil of pleasure deep inside of you, the snarl of his teeth contrasting with his gentle tone.

You knew there was no piecing Tommy back together after everything that's happened—whatever was left of Tommy’s peace had departed the moment his brother had too. 

-

dividers creds: @/saradika-graphics

[rooshoom]

I did it. I have Spots verbal quirks in the previous post and now you get to have Spots physical quirks and movements with some quotes from when I noticed he does them.

Poses

Terrible casual ‘guy’ poses

The arm lean, the hand on the hip, the tilted head. He is totally faking the confidence.

“I love how many of your there are!”

“It’s the place with the big collider.”

Shoulders / Arms

When he first walks into the store to rob the ATM, he has super tense shoulders. We see a lot of his stress and tension carried more in his upper body than lower body.

Lots of shrugging

Shrinks in on himself by squeezing his arms to his sides

During the flashback when he brought the spider from 42 to 1610 you can really see how much he tries to squeeze in on himself.

Slings his arms, when he throws his portals his arms fly forward very fluidly. Example when he throws the portal at Pav, Gwen and Hobie, he throws it hard enough that his upper body drops once it’s out of his hand.

Hand movements

Fingers first, if you watch the way he reaches into the ATM he doesn’t just casually reach in, he grabs things with his fingers instead of his whole hand or with his palm

Floppy hand / t-rex arm

Conveys tons of emotions through his hands, like when he is shocked he flexes his fingers open. Maybe picked up on this since he can no longer express emotion through his face.

Balled fists but likely out of nerves. Once again seen in the flashback of the spider.

Points with all of his fingers instead of just one. “You made me into this!”

Standing / walking

It seems like he only stands at full height when he’s trying to convince himself to be confident. “I am the Spot.”

Even when he’s actually confident he doesn’t stand at full height. Right before he disappears inside Pav’s collider, which you can tell by his verbal cues that he’s very confident with what he's about to do, he’s still leaned over.

Knees together, once against this man just wants to appear small.

Clumsy. “I need more spots!” Running into walls, dropping things, and twisting around corners.

Would rather stand, crouch, or stand on his knees than sit down. Look at Gwen watch him ramble to himself while building, he doesn’t sit once.

Crouches with his neck more than his back. “You’ll have a villain worth fighting for.”

Head / Face

Head tilts

Leans forward to see with face first, so lucky he has a hole right there to deflect fists because if he didn’t he would be punched in the face so fast.

When he says “wow four on there.” You can see him lean in with his face. Totally why that old lady beat him with a purse.

Literal nose tilted up attitude later in the movie. When he’s in Pav’s universe dropping scientists into portals, he has face tilted up and nodding along with how many holes he creates.

Other

I see him stim with his legs a lot, such as hopping foot to foot. “This is real.”

Just generally very fluid, watch how he falls into the portal when he yells, “I am your nemesis!” He flops into it instead of bracing for impact. He has no sense of self preservation.

He. Cannot. Fight. Watch all of his scenes and look at how loose he is. A slinky of a man.

Look at how he flails. This man would flinch if you threw a pillow at him.

Y’all, I’m absolutely encouraging you to write Spot X Reader with my lists. I’m trying to make this easy as possible, don’t think babygirl just write a bedtime story for the masses we can all peacefully drift off to. Let me spoil you with the time I spent doing this so you don’t have to.

[shiyorux]

Jujutsu Kaisen Characters when you faint —

—

Picks you up and walks around with you like that on their shoulder all day. (Glares at anybody who questions or even looks at it.)

If you somehow fainted throughout the day, and happened to be around them, they’d definitely take the oppurtunity to just throw you over their shoulder and call it a day. Then would proceed to walk through the whole day with you on their shoulder.

Of course, eventually they’d drop the monotone facade and get a little concerned when you don’t wake up, as they had been under the impression that you’d just exhausted yourself and needed a long good nights rest.

“Brat? Why aren’t you waking up?” He has to check that you’re actually breathing and not dead for a minute, then gets annoyed when you just don’t want to wake up.

“Wake up, don’t leave me here brat.”

GETO SUGURU, Toji Fushiguro, RYOMEN SUKUNA, Naoya Zenin,

—

Takes a picture of you on snapchat with all sorts of funny filters and sends it to your friends. (They save it too.)

You were probably lounging on the couch with them for whatever reason out of boredom. Maybe you were watching some random movie or tv-series that they had found and wanted to show you, or you were just hanging out.

Or you could've just have been at Jujutsu Tech doing absolutely nothing.

But you were so exhausted from your last mission that you ended up fainting and falling asleep where you sat. And all they did was find it funny, then quietly grab their phone and snap tons of pictures of you, occasionally leaning your head back so they could get a good shot of your face.

So the moment you woke up, your phone was getting spammed with people sending you text messages. Some were trying to jokingly warn you that you were being taken photos of, and some of them were just replies to your story.

Well it's safe to say you're never taking a nap beside them again. (They totally saved all of the photos.)

GOJO SATORU, Yuji Itadori, KINJI HAKARI, Mahito if he had a phone,

—

Grabs a blanket and tucks you in, doesn’t matter where you are.

The title pretty much states it.

This one also heavily applies to Higuruma, like, the man took a bath in a tub with CLOTHES on... (and in a courtroom aswell???)

This probably takes place when you're fighting curses with them (or sorcerers for that sake)

You faint and their immediate instinct is to make you comfortable whatever place you have decided to leave your consciousness at. They're not entirely sure if they're really allowed to move you around without your consent so they just refrain from doing so, and instead just give you a blanket.

Because, the rubble isn't exactly a comfortable place to be sleeping, right?

But they might have to explain to you when you wake up why you're tucked in a blanket in the middle of rubble and blood. (they were making sure the curses weren't gonna eat you)

CHOSO KAMO, Todo Aoi, Hiromi Higuruma,

—

Gives you an icepack, because they don’t know what else to do.

Okay lets be honest here, they would panic. Like panic. Like, at first they don’t know what to do. One moment you’re standing with them the next you’re on the floor sleeping.

But the only thing they can wrap their heads around is that something might be wrong with you, so they give you an icepack. Nothing like, maybe carrying you to the infirmary because fainting suddenly definitely isn’t weird, but no. They do that. It doesn’t even have to be them giving you anything, they just stand there, speechless, not knowing what to do.

Poor Inumaki might panic more than the rest and accidently knock himself out too.

TOGE INUMAKI, Hajime Kashimo, Kokichi Muta,

—

Actually carries you to an infirmary because they are genuinely concerned for your health.

This might've happened while you were on a mission, or when you were just around them outside of Jujutsu work.

You were just casually sitting next to them, doing your thing when you suddenly fainted on their shoulder. In the start they panicked a little bit but they quickly calmed down and realized it might be the best idea to get you some help.

Because, what if you have some disease??

But their worries were turned down when they were told you just weren't watching on how much you were drinking.

Now they won't stop telling you to go drink something. (they have ptsd)

YUTA OKKOTSU, Megumi Fushiguro, KENTO NANAMI,

—

Honorable mentions:

Kenjaku would either ignore you or just straight up let you do your thing and faint. He wouldn’t bother to disturb you either when you’re sleeping. But he’d probably watch you. (maybe throw you into a river and see what happens but ykyk)

:3

Omg i posted???