#hold on I'm cackling over this

[bayetea]

when frank considered setting his wood on fire to warm hazel up in like his first chapter of son of neptune

[singsweetmelodies]

🙄

[kingdomoftyto]

...Okay well damn, season 2 is way better than 1 was. I'm actually getting kind of invested now

[g0reoz]

actually the real reason i'm a xhaka kinnie is the fact that i love hangin out with old people. and old people generally love me! and if someone was a little bitch i would probably threaten to let their grandpa live at my house too if we're being completely honest

[aelswiths]

Look at how good Aelswith looks here, she is STUNNING

[gloomwitchwrites]

Good evening to you. I thought about writing you many times but never had the courage to do so 😅 I saw a TikTok Trend some time ago and thought about the Reaction from our beloved task Force 141. How would they react when you "accidentally" sent them the message "He just left our house, you can come now. He'll be gone for some time". Basically pranking them by implying something shady. You can ignore this if it's weird of course. Thank you for your time and amazing writing 🙏😊

I'm so glad you finally got the courage to send in a request because I had so much fun with this one! Many many thanks because I pretty much cackled and giggled the whole time I wrote this. I'm not exaggerating. I adored this prompt. It not only gave me room for a little humor, but it also gave me the opportunity to be a little naughty!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, pranks & shenanigans, suggestive themes, mild sexual content, dirty talk, dirty thoughts, swearing, possessive behavior

Word Count: 1.5k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series

John Price

Five minutes.

Five. Minutes.

Five minutes and you're already causing problems.

John isn't surprised. Not in the least. Sometimes, you enjoy being on your worst behavior just because it stirs him into a frenzy.

John is sitting at a stoplight, staring down at his phone screen. A car honks but he ignores it.

He's gone. Come over.

There isn't anyone else. John knows this explicitly. Not because he completely trusts you—which he does—but because he knows your exact location at all times. He knows what you search on your phone and what things you look at on the internet. And because he knows that, he knows you're just trying to take the piss.

Locking his phone screen, John turns on his blinker. A few turns later and he's back home, marching through the door. He's not mad. Far from it. You just need a good lesson—a good spanking. Over his knee with a bare ass. That way he can watch it bounce, watch as you wiggle and squirm, hear you whimper, and watch as your arousal grows with each strike.

Then, and only then, will he keep you under him. Which is what you want anyway.

John walks silently and with purpose, approaching you as you casually lounge on the couch.

"You're home early."

John ignores the jab. "You're on one today, cabbage."

"Whatever do you mean?"

John holds up his phone. "Think I'm going to believe this?"

Your eyes widen but John can see the bluff. "I meant to send that to—"

"To me," interrupts John. “You meant to send it to me.”

"To a friend,” you correct, but John notices the smile you attempt to hide. “I meant to send it to a friend.”

No. You wanted John to come home—to be a bit neurotic, even a little possessive.

"Fine," growls John. "I'll bite."

He places one hand on the top of the back cushion while the other rests above your head. He leans in, lowering his voice.

"Who do you belong to?"

"You."

"Show me you mean it."

You tuck your knees in, drawing back your top and removing your lounge pants. When they're gone, you spread wide, revealing your glistening pussy. Your arousal is clear, and John cannot wait to sink inside.

"That's my good girl."

John "Soap" MacTavish

You sent the texts not long after Johnny left for work.

He’s gone. Won’t be home for hours. Come over.

At first, you believed that Johnny would get those texts and immediately turn around, to head home and bust down the door. He did no such thing. He didn’t even respond. Not a peep from him. You spent the rest of the day in limbo, unsure if Johnny received the texts at all.

So, when he does come home, you expect him to say something.

“Hey you,” he murmurs, going in for a kiss.

“How was work?” you ask.

“Good,” he replies, heading down the hall to the bedroom. “Had a briefing. We’ll be heading out for a mission next week.”

“Do you know when exactly?” you ask.

“Tuesday!” he calls back.

Nothing. This man is completely glossing over the fact that you sent those texts to him. When he reappears in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, you nearly swoon at his bare chest and stomach.

“What did you get up to today?” he asks, sauntering over to grasp your hips and pull you close.

“Nothing much,” you reply, and Johnny hums in reply, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You know,” he says after a beat, fishing out his phone from his pocket. “You did send me a few odd texts earlier.” He taps away at the screen at turns it around to show you.

The texts you sent are right there, glowing brightly.

“Oh, those—”

“I checked the cameras.”

“Cameras?” you choke. “What cameras?”

Johnny grins and then he’s tapping away at his phone again. When he shifts the screen around, you see yourself and him in real time. You turn to the corner of the room from where the feed is coming from.

“I never saw anyone come over. But I did see this.”

Tapping again, he changes to an earlier time during the day. It’s a feed of the bedroom, and you’re masturbating. Johnny ups the volume and you hear yourself moan.

“There’s this, too,” he says, switching to the night before when he had you on all fours, ass in the air.

“Johnny!”

He tightens his hand on your hip, keeping you close. Lowering his voice, Johnny grins. “Try again, love.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You watch from the window as Simon’s car pulls out of the drive. You wait until he turns the corner before unlocking your phone and selecting his name.

He’s just left. Come over.

With a wicked grin, you hit send, knowing that the texts will reach Simon any second. Leaning against the window, you wait, and then smile wider as Simon’s car sharply turns the corner and speeds down the street back to the house.

He’s hardly parked the car before he’s exiting the vehicle, storming toward the house, malicious intent clear with every step. With a triumphant giggle, you rush to the bedroom and flop onto the bed, pretending that you’re up to nothing at all.

You hear the front door slam, then Simon’s thunderous footsteps followed by doors opening and closing. Sprawling out across the bed, you tap away at your phone, acting like you're not bothered at all.

When he appears in the doorway, you deliberately ignore him for five long seconds before you casually turn your head and smile.

"You're home early," you observe.

Simon looms in the doorway. "What the bloody hell was that text about?"

"What text?" you shrug, all innocence.

Simon, deadpan, replies "He's just left. Come over."

"Oh. That was for a friend."

"Which friend?"

"A friend."

Simon slowly walks up to the side of the bed. "You're fucking with me."

"Don't know what you're on about, Simon."

The murderous demeanor you saw earlier melts away, leaving behind a mischievous glint that you know all too well. With a viper-like quickness, Simon grasps your ankle and yanks you to the end of the bed.

"Simon!" you shriek, but he's already flipping you over onto your stomach.

He plants both knees on either side of you, keeping you trapped beneath him, his large hands coming down on your wrists to pin them above your head.

"Was last night not enough?" he asks, voice a gruff whisper. "Or do you need another lesson?"

You lift your head as Simon transfers both wrists beneath one hand. He has his phone, tapping away at the screen.

'What are you doing?"

"Telling Price I'm not coming in."

"But you're scheduled."

Simon locks the phone and then tosses it to the side. "He'll understand." Pressing his lips to the shell of your ear, his voice drops to a breathy whisper. "I have a woman to breed."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

It's cruel, perhaps. Even mean. But getting Kyle worked up is so goddamn sweet.

He’s protective, sometimes even a bit possessive, and nothing is hotter to you than watching him stake his claim.

Which is why you sent those texts in the first place—a way to make his heartrate spike.

He just left. He'll be gone for hours.

Kyle bursts through the bedroom door, his chest heaving as if he just ran several miles.

“Where are they?” he asks, voice a growl.

Kyle heads for the bathroom. Throwing open the door, he storms inside, but finding nothing, retreats back into the bedroom.

"Where's who?" you ask in mock innocence as Kyle opens the closet, pushing aside clothes as if he’ll find someone hiding there.

Kyle exits the closet, hands on his hips. “I saw the texts.”

“What texts?” You casually retrieve your phone, already knowing what you’ll find there. Opening up the messaging app, you click on Kyle’s name, and laugh.

“Sorry,” you giggle. “I meant to send that to a friend.”

Kyle’s eyes shut, and the sigh he makes is so loud you laugh harder. Clutching his own phone in his hand, Kyle shakes it in his fist.

“You’re having a laugh,” he says.

"No," you giggle. "Just a mistake."

That thin line becomes a smirk. Kyle tosses his phone onto the bed and you immediately know you’re done for.

“I know you, love. Think you’re clever, yeah?”

He saunters forward, and you push up onto your hands, sliding back along the bed.

“Kyle,” you warn.

“Tricking me just to get me home. For what? Think I’m going to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you?”

Yes. That’s exactly what I think.

You scoot away, sinking into the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. Kyle matches your movements until he’s nearly horizontal over you.

“You’re right,” he continues. “I will.” His gaze roams over your body and then returns to your face. “But first, I’m going to train you into never making a silly mistake like that ever again.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@fern-reads @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @glassgulls @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @z-wantstowrite @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[trianglegoddess]

Feral McGee™

It starts with the Joker. 

His goons picked up Tim Drake. Not specifically because it was Tim Drake, he just so happened to be in the Joker’s neighborhood, and we'll, he can't pass up that opportunity now can he? 

Except Tim Drake is watching, along with the rest of Gotham, at the Batcomputer. He’s nursing a broken foot and has been put on monitor duty until he's cleared for field work again. 

The guy looks enough like him, though. Black hair, blue eyes, and bags under his eyes for days. He's also got the same lean sort of build like he does. 

It happens like this. 

The Joker is doing his monologue thing where he explains whatever twisted game he's come up with this time. He takes up the majority of the screen, so nobody can see Not-Tim behind him, not until the big reveal. Then he covers the screen again, getting up close and personal, before stepping back. In those quick few seconds, Not-Tim is no longer sitting there tied to the chair. 

Someone off camera lets the Joker know, and he whirls around, confused as the rest of Gotham. 

And then Not-Tim comes in with the steel chair. 

Or, well, a crowbar, but the reference holds up. 

He takes out one of Joker’s knees before punching him in the face. The Joker drops like a bag of stones, out cold. 

Then he looks towards the camera. 

“Hey there. I'm not really sure where I am, but also if he was after Tim Drake, he got the wrong guy. I'm not him, I'm just some dude. Anyway, I'll just-yep-” he carefully steps over the unconscious Joker, gives the camera a little wave, and then leaves. 

Batman and Nightwing enter shortly after, with the Joker and his goons out cold and tied up. The knots were complicated enough where, in the end, the police resorted to cutting the ties off of them so they could be properly cuffed and taken to Arkham. 

“A constrictor knot,” Batman tells Nightwing as they watch the villain be taken away. “Often used by sailors to temporarily tie things together to keep something in a bag, or to hold something to glue it back together.”

“Huh,” Nightwing says, scratching the back of his head. “Go figure.”

—

The next time it happens, it’s the Riddler. 

He’s laughing, giving his riddles to the Bats and recording himself to all of Gotham while his victim, one of the Wayne brats, hangs over a vat of something. From a distance, he looks like Tim Drake, or maybe a lankier Dick Grayson. And he’s not the only victim, they’re all scattered across the city, but he thought an important figure such as a Wayne should be under the Riddler’s direct supervision while he enacts his schemes. 

While the Riddler cackles and plots and waves his cane around, in the background all of Gotham can see the figure escape. Several Gothamites recognize him as the kid from before, who clocked the Joker. They all watch with bated breath as he sort of wiggles his way out of the ropes holding him up. Once he’s free, he climbs the rope and gets himself down safely. 

Gotham holds their breath as the kid casually walks up to the Riddler, who’s mid-rant. He politely taps him on the shoulder, and as the Riddler is turning around, the kid clocks him just as brutally as he had the Joker. He’s down with one punch. 

They think he’s going to say another sort of awkward goodbye, but instead he pats the Riddler down until he finds a piece of paper tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. 

“Right,” the kid says, looking at the list. There’s a lot more static overlay now, and several wonder if it’s damage to the cameras. “Uh, the Clocktower, the Docks, and-” he squints at the page for a moment-”Mama Nacaroni’s? What the fuck is that? Anyway, uh. See you later, I guess. Oh! And we’re at the Gotham Arena. Have fun with him, I guess.”

The kid tosses the paper off to the side before the camera cuts to black. 

Just like last time, everyone is out cold and tied up. The Riddler himself is sporting a pretty bad shiner, but well deserved nonetheless. 

“Stop it,” Red Hood tells him. Batman just looks at him, and though Hood can’t see the top half of his face, he can tell that his eyebrow is raised. “You know exactly what I mean, B. Put the adoption papers away.”

“Hn.”

—

After that, it sorta becomes a game. The rogues of Gotham are no longer after a Wayne, or after anybody who holds any kind of social status like usual. They’re all going after this one kid, all determined to be the one to hold him. And each one is televised. 

Mr. Freeze freezes him in a block of ice, but due to the cameras glitching out, nobody can really see how he got free. They do, however, see the kid suplex Mr. Freeze. It should seem impossible, given his lanky figure, but he evidently has more muscle than he’s originally let on. 

Two-Face gets a hold of him, using chains and some power-dampening cuffs just on the off-chance that he’s a meta. They all watch as the kid leans down, pulls a bobby pin out of his hair, and picks the locks on his cuffs. One punch, and Two-Face is down. 

Gothamites are going wild for the kid. They’ve dubbed him Feral McGee™ (an online poll, of course), because every time he goes in for the punch he gets this feral look in his eyes. Also, just the fact that he casually goes up to these rogues and takes them out with all the casualness of doing something incredibly mundane? Incredible. The Gothamites are eating it up. However, despite the video evidence, nobody has been able to properly identify the kid. They know he has black hair and bright eyes, but any time he gets near a camera, it’s like there’s this weird, sort of warped quality the camera takes on. It doesn’t usually calm down until the fight is done-as one sided as they usually are-before he awkwardly skedaddles away.  

He gets kidnapped by the Penguin, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy (though that was more just a friendly chat than anything), Mad Hatter, and the Riddler again. 

And then the Joker escapes. 

It’s no surprise as to who he’s going to go after. 

Due to one too many careless goons, they manage to find their way to the Joker’s hideout pretty quickly. This time, it’s all Bats on deck, and they all hide away in the rafters as Feral McGee™ is hung over a vat of acid. His whole body is tied up, hardly a single inch of exposed skin to be seen except for the neck up. 

They watch the goons, they watch the Joker, and they watch Feral McGee™. 

The Joker is monologuing, practically begging the bats to come find him before the timer runs out. When it does, the kid gets dumped into the vat of acid. 

Despite these stakes, the kid seems to be only mildly annoyed. 

“Fuck this, I have homework I still need to finish,” they hear him say. 

They all watch, amazed and confused, as the kid starts gnawing through the ropes. Human teeth shouldn’t be able to do that so easily, but one bit after the other, and soon enough the kid’s got himself freed enough to just climb up the rest of the rope. When he’s at the top of the crane holding him up, Batman lets down a rope and pulls the kid up and out of danger. 

“Oh, cool, you’re all here,” the kid says casually, as if meeting the entire Bat Clan is just a normal Tuesday. And then he pulls out a notepad and pen and hands it to Red Hood. 

“Can I get an autograph? You’re dope as fuck, dude.”

Red Hood has to look away and hide his face in his arms for a few moments to not give away their location with his laughter before signing. And then, one by one, the others do as well. They pass along the kid’s notebook with shit-eating grins and barely contained snickers despite the fact that the Joker is still right below them. Even Batman signs it, after his children don’t stop hounding him about it. 

In their distraction, they didn’t see the kid sneak away. He’s far away from them now, nearly right over the Joker. Danny waits, though, until the Joker has turned around as the timer almost runs out. They watch as he snickers at Joker’s flabbergasted look. The Joker comically looks back and forth and under objects the kid obviously isn’t under. However, before he can do or say anything else, the kid drops from the rafters and right on top of the Joker. He crumples to the ground, unconscious. The kid, however, just brushes the dust off of himself. Despite the fall he took, there isn’t a scratch on him. 

When the bats join him, they give his notepad back to him, barely able to contain their laughter at the absurdity of it all. The kid, too, joins in the camaraderie, laughing and joking along with them as Batman secures the Joker. 

“Okay, okay, but I gotta ask, dude,” Red Hood says at one point, looking at the kid. “How do you keep getting kidnapped?”

The kid just shrugs. “I get distracted easily. And I’m sleep deprived, so you know. Social awareness is kind of at an all time low right now.”

“Why are you sleep deprived?” Nightwing asks, barely hidden concern in his voice. 

 “Finals are kinda kicking my ass right now. Especially this dumb English homework I have. You guys wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, lucky for you,” Red Hood says, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulders as he walks them out of the warehouse, “I happen to know a lot about English. So, it is Shakespeare?”

“Yeah, Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

As they walk off, Batman calmly watches, though the rest of the bats can see his jaw twitching. Nightwing comes up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“If you don’t adopt him, I will.”

“Hn.”

[mochinomnoms]

unhinged and raunchy

In which your mouth runs faster than your brain and you say something absolutely and horrifically horny by accident. All quote come from this person's tiktok series "might as well"

Third-years x gn!reader

[tw/cw} — highly suggestive, crack, idk just having fun with it i guess

Trey Clover: "If I was a donut I'd be a Boston Cream the way he fills me up with his..."

Poor Trey. He's already not a morning person, but he's wide fucking awake now.

You still look like the sleep hasn't quite left your brain, but it's starting to process what you said in front of Ace at the table.

"Bro, right in front of my scrambled eggs?" He made gagging sound, grabbing his plate and grumbling as he elected to eat outside. "I don't wanna hear about your sex life, gross."

Trey sighed pinching at his noses as he eyed you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you sleepily leaned into his side.

"You're still half-asleep, aren't you?"

"Hmm...I...think...mm" You nodded, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "Yeah...cream...in me—"

"Okay let's get you back to bed actually."

"Oooh...gonna make me a dooooonut...creamy donut..."

It takes him a bit longer than usual to go through the rest of his morning routine. You're no where to be found until well into the afternoon, though Ace (unfortunately) has an inkling of where you'd been.

Cater Diamond: "Slow and steady sets the pace but fast and quick lets him get a taste~"

Why are you looking at him like that?? You're the one who opened your mouth!

"Seven help me, what was that?!" He was cackling though, almost sliding off the bench from how much he was in hysterics.

"I DON'T KNOW! SNRK—" You had burst into a fit of laughter, falling off the bench yourself into the sidewalk, covering your face in embarrassment.

"Ooh~ Got your CayCay on the brain, huh? You're lucky no one else's here and that you're such a cutie~"

Both of you were losing it by now, crumpled together in a pile on the ground, clutching at each other's shoulders between fits of laughter.

"Yeah, good thing your cutie's been drinking pomegranate juice and pineapple—"

"Pffpt—stooop!"

"—Cause I'm the only sweet thing you wanna taste~"

"BWAAAHAHAHA—"

Leona Kingscholar: "I call that man my coffee 'cause of the way I guzzle him down in the morning—"

A hand smacked over your mouth, but it didn't change the fact that the poor students sitting across from you looked like they'd just witnessed a murder.

"...A lil salt never hurt nobody." You finished your sentence against Leona's palm, muffled but loud enough to make the others cringe even more.

Leona's tail smacked against your thigh as he let out a grumble, gesturing to the others.

"Out. Now." The lounge was empty in less than 30 seconds, leaving just the two of you in Leona's favorite lounge chair, next to the waterfall.

"And you." Laying back down on the cushion, Leona pulled you with him, an amused smirk on his face. "If you're gonna talk big words, you better make sure it's true. I don't think you had your 'coffee' this morning, hm?"

You grinned back at him, turning to rest your knees over his hips.

"Well, I am thirsty, and if you're offering~"

Vil Schoenheit: "Callin' you face wash with the way you come all over my face—wooooah"

Both you and Vil froze mid-routine, he applying his make up primer and you drying your face with a plush towel.

"...I don't think that would be good for my skin."

"That's the issue with what you said? Nothing else?"

Vil scoffed, tapping the tips of his fingers to spread the product around his face.

You shrugged, folding your towel and placing it on the counter before you come up behind Vil, wrapping your arms around his waist. Nuzzling into his back, he felt you grin against his shoulders.

"Well, I mean, why don't we hold a little experiment real quick and see—"

"Absolutely not now, I have places to be." Vil clicked his tongue at your as you let out a whiny pout. "Now, now dearest. I said not now. I'm more than happy to make you a mess tonight, have patience."

Rook Hunt: "A pogo stick ain't got nothing on me with the way I'm bouncin' on it."

"Oui? Is that so?" Rook looked at you with amusement, though a pretty pink blush was on his cheeks.

You yelped, jumping in your seat, almost falling off the couch, as you glared at your boyfriend behind you.

"How long have you been here listening to me spew shit?"

"As long as you've been singing your desires pour moi, I am particularly fond of the one calling me a blessing between—"

"YOU'VE BEEN HERE AT LEAST AN HOUR?? Dammit Rook, you should be thankful I fucking love your weird ass."

"As am I, mon adorable filou~" Green eyes flitted down your body, the corner of his lips quirking up as he looked back up to meet your own.

"A pogo stick, hmm?"

"Oh, yeah. Go hard and fast just like—" You sighed, rubbing a hand down your face. "I should stop."

"Pourquoi? I find it rather sweet you think such thoughts of me!" Rook leaned in close, a coy smile on his lips.

I'd be more than happy to indugle in them, rien que pour vous!

Idia Shroud: "Call him a remote with the way he makes me louder with just his thumb~"

The clatter of a controller dropping on the ground and the sight of blue flames going pink made you shrink into Idia's bed as he turned in his chair to stare at you.

"Huh, I'll call you back later, 'kay bye." You rapidly hung up, crawling backwards as Idia clambered over to you and on the bed, reaching for your phone.

"WHO YOU WERE YOU TALKING TO? WHY ARE YOU TELLING THEM OUR BUSINESS!"

Curling around your phone and pushing him away with your foot on his chest (easily mind you, he was barely resisting), you batted your eyes.

"I didn't mean to. It just came out while gossiping with Cat—"

"YOU'RE TELLING CATER ABOUT OUR SEX LIFE?" Idia shrieked, collapsing on top of you, effectively trapping you to the bed with his weight. "How am I ever going to face him..."

"You don't even talk to him! You actively go out of your way to avoid him. I was just bragging about you..."

Idia mumbled into your chest, making you pause until he popped up and gave you a glare, tips now turning red.

"I'm not gonna help you beat the final boss of your dumb game anymore."

"Idia! Noooo I need you!"

Malleus Draconia: "Call me soil with the way he plows me—oooooh."

Malleus's arms where steadying you as you giggled, tipsy from the wine Lilia had brought out earlier. Evidently, humans are much more susceptible to the effects of fae wine, you didn't even recognize the man holding you.

"No, no, no, no. I don' wanna go with you, I want Mal...to plow...heh." You snorted, tripping over your feet.

"Come now beastie, wait until we're in my chambers." He was both concerned for how quickly you became drunk but also amused from the chatter coming from your mouth.

"I—hmm. Where's Mal?" The two of you managed to get to his room, though you pushed him off you and tripped over to the bed. "MalMal...He can plant his seed in me..."

You planted face down into the bed, still giggling as Malleus carefully moved you under the covers with a soft smile.

"A tempting proposition, perhaps we can discuss in the morning when you're right of mind."

Lilia Vanrouge: "Might as well call me a book the way this man opens me up before bed every night..."

"I'm begging you to stop, please."

"...Flipping my pages…"

"I really don't want to hear your nights with Fa—Lilia. Please."

Silver gave Lilia a pleading look, nodding his head to you. Lilia was covering a smile as he watched you tiredly blink up at the two of them.

The consequences of you staying up for two days to do homework and study for an exam, evidently, were having you say the most amusing things. Especially about Lilia.

"But-but-but, it's true! I gotta speak my truth man." You slurred your words, squeezing your eyes tightly and opening, as if it would help.

"He's soooo good! And-and I just love him so much Silver. Silver. Silver. SILVER!"

Silver tilted his head as far back as possible as you grabbed his shoulders with a wild look in your eye. Again, his eyes begged Lilia to intervene, though said fae was still watching with amusement.

"...I need him carnally."

"Father please."

"Okay, okay. Sweetheart, come 'ere. Let's get you to bed."

You let yourself get led away by Lilia, squinting at him in confusion until you realized who was holding you.

"Lilia! Yaaaay~ I was just talking about you!"

"Yes, and you can talk about me more in my room, alright sweet?"

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Do it for the Plot

~

I like the idea of Tim and Danny meeting and just clocking each other as little shits TM.

Just causing chaos to everyone in a way that can't really be traced back to them like 'Who? Me? I was busy doing all of these other things I have no idea how I would do that?'

Danny helps Tim get revenge on the bats for all the shit he's had to put up with and being absolute trolls about the whole thing *chefs kiss*

~

Tim&Danny dragging Ra's body

Damian: "Wha-?"

T&D: "No one will ever believe you"

Danny makes them go invisible

~

Bats: "Where ya going Tim?"

Tim holding back a cackle:" Oh, it's my anniversary so it's date night!"

Bats: "Anniversary?! We didn't know you were getting serious with someone?"

Tim: "Serious? He's my husband of course I'm serious about him"

Bats: "Wait hold on-!"

Tim: "Gotta go! Can't be late I have to make sure the babysitter has everything they'll need."

Bats: "BABYSITTER!?"

Tim: "Bye bye~!"

(They planned all of it including their 'fake marriage', Danny went back in time with the help of CW who is a troll at heart, and made the legal changes including Dan and Dani as their kids (their de-aged) otherwise someone (Oracle) would have eventually realized that the license is fake. So they went back in time and made it legitimately real)

~

Danny being Ghost King means that Tim is now also royalty

Tim walking up to John Constantine:" I have your entire soul"

and then just turning around and leaving

John very much felt the very strong Death Energy claiming Tim: "I don't want to be sober right now"

~

Earth about to be taken over for the 5th time that year by higher beings

Tim walking up late with coffee in his hand: "Leave or I'll call my husband"

Higher Beings very much not wanting to mess with the High King of the Infinite Realms: ᕕ( ᐕ )ᕗ

~

The Phantom family relaxing with cucumbers on their eyes and face masks: "Did you hear something?"

The Bats & Everyone else:

~

Just an Idea

[suksatoru]

"Boo!"

Sukuna doesn't flinch at Yuuji's adorable attempt at a scare, merely tilting his head with a small scowl as he wags a finger at his little brother

"What's this, brat?" He huffs, tugging on the white fabric covering Yuuji's body as the little boy lets out a whine of defeat

"It's my costume!" He protests, and you can only watch them with a smile as Sukuna huffs, tucking a single arm under Yuuji and easily picking the boy up

"Well I think you look very scary, Yuuji." You smile, and the little boy's entire face lights up at your words

"Scary? If anything, it looks like you're wearing a big ol' diaper. Makes you look even more like a baby." Sukuna cackles at Yuuji as the poor little boy's lip trembles. You know the waterworks are about to come - so you quickly snatch Yuuji away from him

You stick your tongue out at Sukuna, and Yuuji lets out a hearty giggle while your boyfriend rolls his eyes with a grunt

Eventually the three of you are all walking out of the apartment ready to go trick or treating. Halloween was Yuuji's favorite holiday, and you were determined to make this night a good memory for him.

Sukuna wasn't exactly on his best behavior, looming behind little Yuuji with a scowl that scared most people at their doors into surrendering a good bit of their candy to the pink haired baby boy. Sukuna also demanded Yuuji to thank every house they visited, and he happily complied - having a blast running through the neighborhood like a headless chicken.

"We need to get him on a fucking leash." Your boyfriend growls, following Yuuji as he skipped down the sidewalk - belting out some song and oblivious as to how fast his little feet were running. The only way you and Sukuna were even able to see where the little boy stood was thanks to the glow-stick necklace around his neck.

"Be nice." You reprimand, gently tugging on the cape of his vampire costume with a grin. Of course, you and Yuuji begged on your knees for him to wear something scary for Halloween, and he was forced to give in. You were glad - the blood trickling down his chin with his deep red cape flowing behind him made him look even more devilishly handsome than usual.

"Kuna! I got a full size bar!" Yuuji smiles, stopping in his tracks as he waves around the bar with a smile wide enough to light the dark night known as Halloween.

"That's nice, brat." Sukuna sighs, eyes crinkling in annoyance as he squints in the dark - of course the big baby already wants to go back home.

It took Yuuji another hour until he was satisfied. He peered up at his older brother and you, who had slung the obnoxiously large bag of candy over his shoulder as you licked a small lollipop

"I'm tired." Yuuji whines, dragging his feet to a stop as he lets out a long yawn. He holds his hands up for someone to pick him up, and you scoop up the little boy in your arms since Sukuna's were full.

"My poor baby. You did so much work this Halloween, going door to door like that. I'm so proud of you." You giggle while placing a soft kiss onto his chubby cheek, and Yuuji lets out a content sigh as he snuggles into your chest

Sukuna's eye twitches, his arm straining as he slowly shifts the sack of candy from one shoulder to the other

"What about my kiss? I deserve one more than him." He deadpans, his eyes unimpressed as his narrowed gaze flitters between you and Yuuji

"Mmm nope! You can have some at home though. He's been awfully moody tonight, huh Yuuji?"

The little boy squeals as you spin him around, laughter bubbling all the way from his tummy as you grab Sukuna's hand with a smile and begin the walk home.

Yuuji seemed to pass out after eating a good portion of his candy, and now you sit on the couch of your apartment as you watch Sukuna sort the candy - peanut and coffee and butter and toffee - all sorts of flavors in colorful swirly packaging were laid out in front of him.

You nudge Sukuna with your foot from where you laid on the couch

"Gimme a Hershey!"

He unwraps in silently, glaring at you and he taps your lips - signaling for you to open up. He glides a sensual finger over your parted lips - before shoving the chocolate so fast into your mouth that you almost choke

"Sukuna!"

He smiles, lifting himself off the floor and deciding to suffocate you on the couch instead

"What if I choked and died? What then, asshole?" You cry, trying to pry him off of you as he drops his head on top of yours

"Give me my kisses or I'll go wake up the brat."

You're peppering his face with angry kisses soon enough, and his laughter ends up waking Yuuji anyways.

[chuluoyi]

✎ treasure

- gojo satoru x reader

the strongest sorcerer meets his match in his petulant son, who inherits his six eyes and is having trouble with them

genre: taking care of your son with dad!gojo, fluff/comfort

note: AAAA i love this waaay too much!😭 this brilliant idea gave me baby fever so bad came from an anon who so energetically dropped by my askbox, thank you! and seeing this artwork by Yoon in twitter definitely gave me more ideas too!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"No!"

"Why? This helps—"

"That's ugly! I don't want to look ugly—like you!"

Satoru blinked in utter disbelief, and you broke into the most satisfying fits of laughter. In front of him, standing tall and sullen and very much like him was his own son, now barely five years old.

Your boy mentioned that he had been experiencing discomfort in his eyes lately, which also caused him to become dizzy. And Satoru attempted to persuade him to use a blindfold like he did because it was effective.

However, as we can see, his son didn't take his suggestion well at all. His bright blue eyes, ones your husband passed down, bore an intense glare aimed squarely at him.

"I..." Satoru sputtered, his eyes twitching. The sight was comical as no one had ever managed to elicit such a reaction from him. And no one ever considered him an unattractive person too! "I'm not—"

"You are!"

Once again, you let out a triumphant cackle, and this time your husband shot you a glare. But you didn't care. All those years of tolerating his antics had paid off. His son had finally put him in his place!

When he was a baby, you thought your son was Gojo Satoru incarnate. He was the spitting image of him—with all gaits and expressions too. And you had worried if he would turn out to be just as much of a menace as he was.

But apparently, life has other sweet plans because like you, he was a relatively calm boy, diligent, and didn't like to make a fuss. Satoru argued that it was definitely in his genes—claiming he had also been a sweetheart when he was a child, but you couldn't quite imagine him being remotely as reserved as your son.

That aside, the cause of this hilarious exchange did actually make you worry a bit.

"Look, I know it probably looks odd," Satoru gestured at the blindfold in his hand, but your little boy still didn't seem convinced by the pout he displayed. "But it will help you, I promise. If only you would—"

Oh, but it was almost like karma because besides his appearance, the other trait your son inherited from your husband was his strong sense of winning.

His face reddened from sheer indignation, and he once again screamed, "I don't want to! I'll just cover my eyes with—" he took a nearby napkin and pulled them over his eyes, "—this!"

Satoru sighed in annoyance, and you decided to jump in. Crouching down next to him, you gently pried the napkin from his hand.

"Papa just wants to help you, okay?" you reasoned, cupping his plump cheeks. Gods, he used to be this round thing in your and Satoru's arms and now he was already this big. "He uses it everyday and he has no problems, see?"

"But it doesn't look good..." Your son drooped his head in disappointment, and you could feel Satoru rolling his eyes beside you, evidently miffed at the thought of him being less than good-looking.

Parenting is challenging, especially when your husband still holds onto some of his childlike tendencies. So you decided to end the discussion here.

It was later at noon, while you were in the kitchen preparing lunch when you heard your son's scream and something crashing. Your heart was in your throat as you rushed to the backyard, only to see something that made your heart lurch even more.

Your sweet boy was wailing on the ground, clutching his head, and Satoru—

His expression was as horrified as yours if not more, as he ran and caught your son in his arms, pressing him tightly against his chest as if shielding him from the sun altogether. "Shit. Hey, hey—buddy, you okay?”

Satoru lifted him up and carried him inside. You were right beside him as he settled on the sofa, gently hushing your son, who was still shaking and had his eyes covered against his chest.

"M-My head..." your son whimpered, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. "...h-hurts..."

"It's okay, it's okay..." he murmured, caressing the child's hair in a soothing manner, and it reminded you so much of what he would do to you in the early mornings. "I've got you now, nothing’s going to happen to you. Hang on a little longer, yeah?"

You felt warm tears threatening to well up in your eyes at the sight. It was heart-wrenching to see your son in such torment, and the way your husband was consoling him deeply touched you. It served as a poignant reminder of just how many years had passed from when Gojo Satoru was still that brat who used to mess with you during high school.

Soon, your little boy's breathing became even, and he went to sleep in Satoru's comforting embrace.

You looked at him while biting your lip, undiluted worry in your voice. "What should we do? He's been experiencing pain often lately..."

Satoru really wanted to wipe that expression from your face, but with his precious child clinging onto him for dear life, even he didn't have the heart to.

"Don't worry, I'll be with him," he assured, a plan already forming in his mind. "If he hates blindfolds that much, then I'll get him some pairs of glasses just like the ones I have—for kids. We'll start with that."

Bearing the weight of his clan's revered eyes was a heavy burden, and honestly, he would prefer it if none of his children had to inherit them. After all, he went through it all too as a child—the manifestation of the six eyes' powers marks the beginning of life as a sorcerer. The perilous world he was still trying to keep away from his son.

Nonetheless, he would be there for him every step of the way. It was what he vowed to himself on the day he was born. He wouldn’t let anything befall him—or you.

You had calmed down after hearing his plan, and as you gazed at your precious boy’s innocent face in his protective grip and the gentle pats he gave him, you suddenly found yourself in a mischievous mood once again.

"Heh, quite the doting papa, aren't you, Satoru?" you winked, a teasing smile on your face. You could have sworn his cheeks slightly flushed as he retorted:

"Hmph. He is my personal little body warmer, after all."

[i-starcreamed]

Can I request how Megs would feel if he fought his beloved, reader needs to beat some sense to him and help him from being blinded with hatred. (Tf one plz) Also I want a good ending cuz I'm still sad about the movie. And if it isn't obvious cybertronian reader.

MEGATRON X READER

Obviously Tf One spoilers! God this was so fun to write, I just hope I got their personalities right. I haven't written anything this long in a while !! Also I never knew I'd be so much of a Megatron enjoyer until this movie...yeah, it took me this long.

[ cybertronian! reader Angst and eventually fluff, could be pretty rushed tbh but I just want him to healll. Very NOT canon to the movie

You knew it wasn’t your D-16 the moment his optics changed. Or maybe it was the way he distanced himself from you and your friends in a matter of hours--maybe minutes. It was a subconscious, subtle shift, but one you wished you could have talked him out of.

You suppose you saw the changed D-16 once you made it to the hideout of the High Guard fliers. Your once-kind, responsible lover was gripping Starscream by the neck, his hold tightening with every word from the flier beneath him.

You glanced at Orion, Elita, and Bee, all frozen in horror. You panicked and you stepped forward, placing your servo on his shoulder. Before you could continue, he whirled around, optics burning with a cold, harsh light—practically glaring at you.

“Y/N…“

“D, what the hell are you doing?!” You demanded, your voice steady despite his glare. “This isn’t like you, this isn’t the way, come on.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, his optics locked onto Starscream again. He was seething, the flier grinning through the pain wasn't helping your case either.

“Come on, do it! Do it, don’t be a c-coward!” Starscream sputtered through glitching vocal processors, even as D-16’s servo squeezed harder, threatening to crush the life from him.

D-16 narrowed his optics, “I’m not a coward!” He roared as Starscream’s cackling turned into garbled screeches

You attempted to push him away, roughly shoving him by the shoulder. “D, stop it!” He shoved you back. The sudden force sent you stumbling, and when you steadied yourself, you found yourself staring down the barrel of his arm cannon. His orange optics were locked on you, but for a fleeting moment, they softened. It was like he didn't recognize you, but then he hesitated.

“Stay out of my way, from now on.” He said lowly, as if his words pained him. “Please.”

His hesitation vanished as the cannon swung back toward Starscream. You stood there, stunned, until Orion and Elita rushed over to pull you up. Then you just stood and did nothing.

You watched in horror as D-16 continued to declare himself as someone they should follow to victory. Oh, you knew how much he wanted Sentinel dead now. Hell, you did too. But you weren’t sure if this was the right way. You weren’t a bad bot. Neither was D-16, he never was. You had to do something...before things got bad.

You recalled the moment just before he…snapped.

___

“Y/N, don’t you see? He’s been lying this whole time.” “Yes, D. I see, I know. But—“ “I want him dead. I just-I need..I need to see him suffer. Look what he did. To you. To me. To us. We could have been..so much more.” He placed his servo over your spark, right above where your transformation cog was. He used to dream of you two racing together, having fun. Hell, flying even. Back then he didn’t know what he would transform into. “We can still be more, D. We have a bigger purpose now, we were given the ability to transform by a prime himself. We just need to..show everyone the truth. And we will. Then we can—“ “It’s not enough.” He blurted out, pulling you closer as if it was the last time he’d hold you. “You deserve so much better. I promise you, Y/N. I promise you he will pay.”

___

Things only got worse from there. You reached your breaking point when you saw D-16—no, Megatron—vanish Orion himself. You couldn’t believe it. They were like brothers. And now, your beloved had become something else entirely. And yet, you still felt helpless.

You rushed over, avoiding and pushing the other bots as you made your way to where D-16 stood. They all cheered him on as he was trying to lift Sentinel into the air. He was going to kill him. He really was.

“D, stop it! Look what you’ve done!” You shouted, stomping your way forward, frustration boiling inside. You slammed your shaking fist into his shoulder. Primus, you were pissed at him right now.

“Please, please! Tell me what the hell you’re doing. This wasn’t a part of the plan.” You pleaded with him, hoping you’d somehow get him to react. Instead, he inched closer, the same stance you’d expect of someone challenging you. “No, you’re wrong. This was the plan. It was what had to be done. How can I get you to see that.” He visibly calmed for a moment, reaching out a servo to brush against the side of your faceplate. Despite everything, it’s still him. And he loved you.

You hesitated, then stepped back. Oh, how it pained you. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand your goal.” You said, barely above a whisper. Time seemed to freeze, and he slowly lowered his arm. In an instant, you watched his gaze darken.

“Then you’re just in my way.”

__

Your hopes were revived as Orion, now as Optimus Prime, came back, the matrix of leadership implanted into his chest. Optimus had saved the life of Sentinel (perhaps a little undeserved), knowing there was another way to deal with this. But now he has to save..practically all of Iacon. Maybe just maybe, between the two of you, you can stop Megatron.

The fight between the two friends wasn’t solving anything, you only feared they’d end up killing each other. You got rid of your fear, inserting yourself in the fight just as they managed to gain some distance from eachother. He grunted as you shoved him harder this time, his footing a bit unsteady from his existing injuries.

“What are yo—“

“I told you, stop. This,” you punctuated every word with a shove. “Is. Madness!” You panted, glaring up at your lover. “Come back to me, D. This isn’t the real you. I know it isn’t.” You pleaded, he responded with an irritated grunt.

“I, am Megatron. Not D-16, I am not that bot anymore. Y/N, stand down-“

“No! You stand down! You’re acting foolishly right now! I won't just stand here and watch you destroy yourself and--” You yelled, going straight for him to push him again, but he stopped you with a raise of his cannon. You froze in your tracks.

"Back down, Y/N." He said with a growl. You narrowed your optics, leaning your frame right up against the barrel, hearing a light clink.. The glow illuminated your armor. For a second, you saw his optics widen. He paused, licking his teeth. "I don't want to fight you. But I-"

"But you will if you have to, right? That's what you were going to say? Do it then," Your voice cracked, "I have nothing left to lose."

He huffed, so be it. He lunged towards you, and you raised your arms, blocking the strike. You opened up to move his blaster out of the way, leaving your side open to his incoming fist. It collided with your side, sparks flying from the contact. You grunted, stumbling back. When he came at you again, you caught his arm, pulling him close until you were face to face.

"We're both being foolish right now, are you happy yet? You panted, he grits his teeth.

"Quit saying that!" He growled, shoving you away. He shot his cannon, the blast flying past your side. You slid to avoid it, earning another blast from him. He fired his cannon, but the shot missed. He was aiming wide on purpose. You blinked, you knew his aim wasn't that bad...primus, he really was missing on purpose. If you weren't fighting right now, you'd swoon.

"Are you missing on purpose?" You asked incredulously.

"No! I.. yes..no! Listen to me, Y/N. We can end this now, if you let me do this one thing."

"You've already done enough. D..."

"Don't call me that."

He lunged again, but this time, you sidestepped, charging into him and sending him crashing to the ground, the side of his face hit the ground. You managed to pin him momentarily, struggling to keep him from standing.

"This isn't what you want. Trust me.." You paused. "Megs. Please."

He tensed beneath you, then slightly loosened as you called him 'Megs.'

"This is revenge, it won't help you feel any better. Not long-term. You'll only continue hating and hating, I can't bear to lose you like this. It's...it's tearing us apart." You shuddered, loosening your grip.

Eventually, you felt his breathing slow to a decent pace, slowly, you climbed off him, kneeling beside him. He sighed. "I..I don't know how to stop." He quietly said. You leaned forward, placing a servo against his jaw. "I can help you. I will help you. Megs, you have me with you. You have..Optimus with you. We're all with you."

You both knelt silently for a moment, gathering each other's thoughts. Finally, he had the courage to look up at you. You might never see those big yellow optics of his again, but at least now they weren't so cold. They held some type of sincerity. "I'm..so sorry." He breathed out.

You almost sighed in relief. "You're still angry, and that's okay, alright? Now it's my turn to promise you, we'll deal with this differently. It won't feel fair at first, but it's the right thing to do. Stand up." You gently said, extending your servo out to him. He slowly took your servo, his grip as gentle, almost afraid of breaking you. Primus, how he regrets hurting you. You can see it written all over his face. He was blinded by rage, he was indeed acting foolish. His optics briefly flicked to Sentinel, still on the ground and honestly, grateful to still be in one single piece. He turned away before the anger could return.

"I didn't want to hurt you," He whispered.

You softly scoffed, gently nudging him. This time, without any defensive intent. "You controlled yourself better than I did. I wanted to beat your aft, D-- Megs." You joked, earning a small, bittersweet smile.

You took your servos in his, softly smiling at him. You turned to Optimus, who was just as relieved as you were. "Optimus, do you think Megs and I can help rebuild Iacon? The way it's supposed to be?"

Optimus smiled gently, looking proud. "Of course you can. We all can." He looked at Megatron, his gaze firm but kind. "I am glad to have you back, friend."

Megatron nodded, still tense but..accepting. One day, they'll be as brothers again. You just know it. "As am I." He said, turning to you. His gaze softened. "Y/N...I love you."

"I love you as well, Megs."

[archangeldyke-all]

Desperately need my wife Sevika to hold me by the throat while she fucks me all slow and deep until i’m squirming and whining. Bonus points if she doesn’t let me move too much and tells me how pretty my pussy looks around her strap-

but i’m totally calm about her what do you all mean- i’m totally normal and calm.

- Pythia

ooooooh my god. i' mso normal.

men and minors dni

"sev-- 's too big!" you whine, desperately clawing at the sheets as you try to scoot away from your wife.

sevika grins and tugs your hips back down the bed, forcing you to take her to the hilt. she growls and you squeak, moaning and blubbering as she starts fucking you mercilessly. "quit squirming, baby, 'm tryna make you feel good."

you shiver, your words lost to the feeling of sevika stretching you out. she's smiling sweetly down at you like she's not ruining you right now, gently pecking your calf where it rests on her shoulder while her hands claw at your hips hard enough for you to be certain you're bleeding.

"you're ridiculous." she giggles eventually, her eyes fondly watching your cunt stretch around her strap. you just moan. "actin' like you can't take it-- like you weren't fuckin' beggin' for it ten minutes ago-- i know you baby. 'd you forget? i know how much you can take. i know how to make you scream--" you cut her off with just that-- a loud wail filling the bedroom when sevika starts rubbing your clit as she continues pounding inside you. sevika lets out a cocky little chuckle. "i know how much you fuckin' like it."

"sev, sevika!" you squawk, trying again to run away from her as she rearranges your guts.

"quit squirming." she grunts, smacking your ass. you whimper.

"can't help it! you're in my stomach!"

"'s it hurt?"

"n-no but--" the moment the word leaves your lips sevika's smile gets even eviler, and she stops her hips movements only to quickly rearrange your limbs, wrapping your legs around her hips, using one hand to keep you clinging to her, while the other trails up your body, briefly pausing to pinch your tits, before wrapping around your throat.

the moment she starts squeezing, you start to cum.

sevika cackles as she fucks you through your first orgasm, letting go of your throat long enough for you to gasp a breath of air, before ducking down and kissing you.

it's more like she's fucking your throat with her tongue-- just grunting into your open mouth as her hand cradles your jaw gently, greatly juxtaposing the way she's fucking into you.

"fuck, i wanna get you pregnant." sevika huffs against your lips. you whimper. "you're just so fuckin' cute, i can't fuckin' help myself. wanna ruin you."

"you are." you moan out eventually-- finally catching your breath from your last orgasm. sevika hums happily.

"'s good?" she asks.

"fuckin' perfect." you sigh. "fuck, sev, i love you so much. 'y fuck me so good."

"i know baby." sevika sighs happily, leaning back down to kiss you sweetly before she starts hammering into you again. you gasp. "i know." sevika repeats.

she brings her hand back around your throat, holding you in place while she starts to chase her own pleasure, her eyes locked on you, tracking every twitch and jump she pulls from you, her smile growing when your thigh starts to spasm as you get close.

"you gonna cum?" she asks. you nod underneath her. sevika grins. "fuck, me too. i dunno how you do it-- y' get me so fuckin' worked up baby, just watching you be all pretty, fuck-- shit, i'm gonna knock you up."

"sevika!" you sputter. she giggles.

"go ahead, baby. cum all over my cock and i'll fill you up with my babies."

you gasp and cum again, and the moment you do, sevika groans and collapses on top of you, cumming deep inside of you while you cling to her.

"fuck." you giggle. sevika snorts in your throat.

"fuck." she agrees. "shit, baby, you had my fuckin' legs shaking this entire time y' feel so fuckin' good. gimmie five minutes to catch my breath 'n we're goin' again." sevika sighs, settling in on top of you for a cat nap. you burst into laughter.

"sevika, you can't sleep inside me!"

"why not?" she asks, pouting down at you. you snort.

"'cause five minutes'll turn into two hours and then we'll wake up and you'll've been inside me for half the day. i'm not trying to be that sore tomorrow."

sevika huffs and reaches out for her phone, tapping a few buttons before throwing it on the other side of the bed. "there. i set a timer. happy?" she asks.

you grin. "deliriously."

sevika's responding smile is so sweet it gives you butterflies.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom

[eleganthologramcolor]

Goofy way of delivering news to the 141???

Mini Poly!141 + reader (Reader is gender neutral but implied female anatomy, pregnancy)

You're smug, grinning slyly as you set up a little projector in the living room, dimming the lights.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you all here," you hum, feigning nonchalance as the boys sit spread apart from the couch, the love seat and Johnny in the floor, too antsy to sit on the furniture.

The projector flicks on with a kahoot code screen.

"Boys, if you could join."

They give each other looks, already wary from the last stunt you'd pulled with this. There's even a glimmer of panic on Johnny's face, who's trying to frantically remember the date in case he'd forgotten your birthday again.

Kyle and Price are playful, indulging you, and Simon is quiet. He can tell something's up, something a little more than just a game. He keeps his mouth shut, though, tongue in cheek as he glances at his own phone screen.

"We are going to take a quiz today."

And with that, the game begins.

Question 1: what is this?

Displayed over the question is a photo of you, beaming, holding a positive pregnancy test. The boys cheer, gathering you up in their arms, Kyle gets to you first, pressing kisses to the top of your head, and Johnny's trying to pull you close to start grabbing at your belly, as if there may be signs already.

Question 2: Who's the father?

"Bit of an unserious way to deliver news, innit?" Simon finally grumbles, unable to hold back the amused huff.

Then the screen flicks to the next question.

The room is quiet for a moment, competitive, the boys instantly hushed as they glance at one another. They each pick themselves, of course, they'd hope they got first born. Who wouldn't?

But when in the dark, Kyle's face is lit up in green, and there's only a pause before he's cackling victoriously as he runs out of the room to evade the pillows thrown at his head.

[submattenthusiast]

dealer!chris blurb ✩˚｡⋆

chris calling you was always rare, he never called unless he needed something or on accident, never just randomly, so when his contact popped up on your phone screen, eyebrows were raised. before you could say hello properly he was talking, barely understandable but he was. "hi i'm outside please let me in, i drove all the way over here before my high settled in so i could see you, please it's really cold out here and my eyes are starting to feel heavy" your mouth dropped as you listened to his ramble. "you're outside...?" you dumbly ask. "yes? didn't i just say that" he retorts, knocking on your door to prove himself.

swinging the metal open, you rush him in, not wanting the cold air to infiltrate your house. you watch him speechlessly as he takes his boots and jacket off and heads for the living room. as he turned his head you saw the strands of hair peaking out his cherry beanie and had a strong urge to play with the brunette strands. you had to shove your hands in your pockets to stop from grabbing them.

flopping on the large sofa, chris let out a deep breath, as if he'd been holding it in all day. a unrecognizable sound came from his mouth as his body collided with the surface. "this couch feels so good baby, i wish i could sleep here like everyyyday" chris mumbled. you walked over to sit next to his spread out body, relaxing into the soft pillow as you looked at him in awe. it was so rare for him to not be all tough, mean ,and serious. but he was showing you this different side of him, it made you feel a bit special.

sensing your presence on the couch, chris lifted his head up to look at you. a big smile came across his lips as he saw your lap was free. scooting over toward you, he grabbed your thigh and rested his head on your legs. his cold cheeks sent shivers down your spine as the bad contact with your skin. with a body resting on your lap you had to find somewhere to place your hands and his hair was right there. without hesitation you peeled the beanie off his head to release his beautiful dark brown hair. the long locks tickling your skin as they fell into place. "hey you jacked my shit what the fuck" he frowns. you cackle before shushing him. "my lap my rules" you retort. nodding his head he stopped giving attitude. he planted a few kisses along your thigh to apologize without saying anything but still felt the need to say something. "yes ma'am your lap i'm sorry don't kick me out".

a loud string of whimpers left his lips as your hands found their way to his hair, fumbling through the tangles and massaging his scalp. the scent of his shampoo filled your nose as you continued to play. his hair was always so soft after the first wash. you smile while looking down at him, seeing how much he was enjoying it and how relaxed he is. continuous whines leave his mouth as you start to pull a little at his roots. "please don't stop feels so fucking good, your hands are like god sent" he moans, lowkey humping the couch under him and hoping you didn't notice. but you felt the movements and saw his hips moving out of the corner of your eye. teasing him a little more, you tug harder at his roots, wanting to pull a reaction from his body. "fuck please" he breathes, pushing his body into the couch for friction.

"please what?" you coo, slowing down a bit. your nails scratched circles into him as you waited for a response from him. a low whine came out of him as he melted under your touch, cheeks smushing into your skin and shoulders drooping. his voice cracked as he attempted to speak to you, mind beginning to get scattered "please don't stop it feels so good and i'm so hard it hurts, you don't even have to touch my dick or whatever but please you can't stop". he started to wet your thigh with messy kisses again as you started to tug at his hair like before. "that's a good boy, using your words " you purr, changing the direction of your hand. "for you only" he adds, smiling like a dummy.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Baby I'm Yours | B.C.J.

feat. Barty Crouch Jr x blackcat!reader

summary: your new boyfriend Barty tells you he loves you, and you…freak tf out (even though you do, in fact, love him too).

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, established relationship, drinking, you are both possessive and mildly toxic, emotional vulnerability (eugh), love confessions, hurt/comfort, hard kinks, choking

an: can be read as a stand-alone, but hits better as part 2 of this fic

masterlist | requests open

Barty's POV

“Oi, Crouch!”

Barty looked up from his sketchbook, propped in his lap to keep him occupied while he waited in the courtyard for you and Evan to get out of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Xeno was running towards him down the corridor, robes flapping wildly in his haste.

Barty could practically smell trouble, and it made his heart kick with excitement.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Xenophi—”

“Cut the shit. Y/n is dueling,” Xeno snapped, grabbing Barty by the collar and dragging him from his perch in one of the stone openings.

“Oh! Is she winning?” Barty asked, falling into a jog beside Xeno.

“Not the point. She's going to get expelled.”

“Like I’d ever let that happen,” Barty chuckled.

They rounded the corner and could hear the shouting before they even reached the classroom. Excitement raced under his skin, and he all but kicked down the door in his haste to get to you.

You were up on a desk, robes discarded, absolutely pummeling Amacus Carrow with hexes. Amacus was hidden behind and overturned desk, lamely tossing expelliarmus over his shoulder.

The students formed a ring around you both, roaring with excitement while the Professor tried desperately to talk you down.

Barty skirted around the edge of the group towards you, finding Evan standing just beneath you, watching with a wild grin.

“She's a fucking menace,” Evan cackled, and Barty had to agree.

A vicious, beautiful little menace.

“What'd he do?” Barty asked, watching you dodge a hex effortlessly and throw one back in the same second. His heart was pounding, affection making his blood race. Saints, his cock was damn near about to rip through his trousers he was so fucking turned on.

“He called you a buffoon. And said your tattoos were ugly,” Evan said, cheering when you hit Amacus’ table so hard with stupify it cracked. “I was going to intervene, but she hit him with a book before I even got a word out.”

Barty was going to faint if anymore blood vacated his brain.

He spun a chair around and stepped up onto the table beside you. “Hello, treasure. Chose violence, did we?” You squeaked in surprise when he looped an arm around your waist, spinning you around and plucking your wand from your fingers.

“Barty!” You protested, trying to grab your wand back. “Give me that!”

Amacus, realizing you were disarmed, popped up from behind his desk.

“Ah, ah,” Barty waggled your wand at the perspiring wretch. “She may have the restraint to avoid Azkaban, but I have no such compunction, Carrow.” He gestured to Amacus’s spindly wand. “Rosier will take that, if you please.”

Evan had appeared beside Carrow, holding out his hand expectantly. Carrow dropped it into Evan's palm, red-faced and sputtering.

“Barty,” you said again, voice pitching lower with agitation.

He pressed an appeasing kiss to the crown of your head, handing you your wand back. “I think you've made your point, love,” he said. “Unless you'd like to make a fugitive out of me.”

You blew a strand of hair from your face, scowling at Amacus as he fled the room with his twin in tow. “I suppose not,” you huffed. “But if he runs his fucking mouth again—”

Barty pecked your lips, unable to resist your sharp tongue for another second. “He's a dead-man walking, hm?”

A smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, and your shoulders finally softened. “Something like that.” You rose up onto your toes and kissed him again, his heart pounding against his ribs like it was trying to burst out of his chest to get to you.

Barty helped you down from the table while the rest of the students filed out, grumbling that their bloodbath was cut short. The Professor tried to step up to you, face purple with indignation, but one glare from Barty had them backing off, throwing their hands up in defeat.

“Are you alright, though? He didn't get you?” Barty tilted your chin up, turning your pretty face to the right, then the left to check for damage.

“Not once,” you smirked, and his chest swelled with pride.

“That's my girl,” he cooed, leaning down to draw you in for another, more heated kiss. He swiped his tongue across your lower lip, tasting your cherry lipgloss, before kissing down your neck, wallowing in the sweetness of your perfume, the warmth of your skin. “S’why I love you so much.”

As soon as it slipped out, he felt you stiffen, withdrawing slightly from him. He hadn't meant to say it, though he'd felt it long before you were official, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

He pulled his head back, finding your eyes wide, kiss-stung lips parted in shock. A deer in headlights.

“D-did you just—” you stuttered. He could feel your heart fluttering like a hummingbird under his fingertips. “Y-you love me?”

He smiled, something tender unfurling in his chest. “I do, very much,” he murmured, softening his voice like he was speaking to a frightened animal.

“Bat, I—” you words caught in your throat, and a flicker of hope kindled in his heart. “I have to go.” You turned heel and dashed out of the classroom, nearly taking out Evan and Xeno, who were pretending not to listen by the door.

They grimaced, approaching Barty cautiously.

“Sorry, mate,” Xeno said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Why?” Barty asked, shouldering your bag that you abandoned in your haste.

“Because she—mate, are you with us?” Evan waved a hand in front of his face.

Barty smacked his hand away. “I’m fine, I knew she wasn't going to say it back,” he shrugged.

Sure, it would have been amazing if you said it back, but you didn't have to say it for him to know it was true. He knew you struggled with big displays of emotion, and he wasn't about to goad you into saying something you weren't ready to.

He knew you felt it. You told him with every kiss, every touch, every gesture, from softly tracing his tattoos while you cuddled, to picking fights in the middle of class to defend his honor. Barty knew the truth, and you'd realize it on your own soon enough.

Xeno and Evan were looking at him like he had three heads.

“So why did you say it?” Evan asked.

“Because I felt it?” Barty didn't understand why they were so confused. He’d always worn his heart on his sleeve with you, and that wasn't about to change just because you were finally together. He knew you liked to have all the cards before you made a decision, and now you did.

“But she like, freaked out,” Xeno said, like Barty couldn't practically read the thoughts flying through your mind. “That doesn't worry you?”

Irritation curled along his spine, sharpening his tongue. “I’ve got it under control, Lovegood,” he bit. “Don't strain yourself pretending to give a fuck.”

“Junior—” Evan started.

“Are we ready for dinner? I'm starved,” Barty chirped, uprooting the conversation, and the seed of doubt it was planting in his mind.

Reader’s POV

You sat curled in your bed, staring at the emerald curtain separating you from the rest of the dorm. Barty's words echoed in your mind, ricocheting painfully against your skull.

I love you so much.

I love you so much.

I love you so much.

With every repetition came the same cycle of feelings: terror, elation, guilt, and terror again. You cared for Barty, Merlin, did you care for Barty. It ate you up inside, all the feelings you had for him. Drove you half-mad most of the time.

He was your favorite person, your comfort and your home. You wanted to be with him all the time, and you never wanted to be with anyone.

But love? It seemed impossible, enormous. You choked on it, drowned under it. And though it sounded so sweet on his lips, you just couldn't say it back, and it was tearing you up inside.

You knew how deeply his abandonment wounds went, how sensitive he was to rejection, and you never ever wanted to hurt him that way again. Especially not when he'd brought nothing but wonder and excitement into your life.

He didn't seem particularly upset, but you'd run off so quickly, you weren't sure how he'd actually taken it. For all you knew, you'd shattered his heart, and he'd never want to see you again.

Oh fuck, what if he was if was going to break up with you?

A fresh wave of terror clutched your heart, and you cuddled your stuffed cat closer, praying you hadn't fucked this up.

“Y/n?” Pandora called gently, peeling open your curtain to peek at you. “Barty’s here. Looking rather…fretful.”

Shit, shit, shit. He was here to dump you. This was it.

You stuffed your kitty under your pillows and pushed yourself into a sitting position, wiping at your tear-streaked cheeks. “Let him in,” you mumbled.

Pandora nodded, stepping back, and Barty’s head poked through, dark brows pulled together in concern.

“Oh, baby,” he sighed, taking in your probably pitiful state. “Can I come in?”

You nodded, scooching over so he could climb into your bed. He immediately enveloped you in his arms, cuddling you into his chest. Cigarette smoke clung to his clothes and hair, mixing with the faded traces of his familiar cologne, and it immediately soothed some of your panic.

He was here, and he didn't hate you.

Barty’s heart thumped steadily under your cheek as he peppered kisses along the crown of your head, his hand slipping under your hoodie, well, technically his hoodie, to brush against your skin. He was unusually quiet, his movements slow and gentle.

After a few minutes of loaded quiet, you couldn't hold your tongue any longer.

“I’m really sorry, B,” you mumbled, tracing the lines of the tattoo on his chest peeking through his half-buttoned shirt.

“For what, tres? You did nothing wrong,” he shushed you, squeezing you tighter.

You sniffled, tears springing to your eyes.

He shifted, turning so you were beneath him and he was looking down at you. “Have you spent the last few hours thinking you did something wrong?” He asked, looking genuinely distressed at the suggestion.

Your lips folded into a tight line, not trusting yourself to speak, and you nodded.

“Treasure, no,” he gasped, cradling your face and kissing away the tear that rolled down your cheek. “My sweet, darling, gorgeous girl, you did absolutely nothing wrong. I didn't say that under the assumption you'd say anything back. I said it because I wanted to, because I—” the words caught in his teeth, like he had to bite them back before they wrangled out of his control once again.

“I'm just not ready,” you whispered, shame turning your guts to stone.

“And that's okay—hey, look at me.” He brushed his nose against yours, the softest nuzzle. When you managed to drag your eyes to his, you found them so sincere, so warm. “It's okay, baby. I promise.” He held his pinky up, the nail painted to match your manicure, and you curled your pinky around his. “I promise,” he repeated, resting his forehead against yours.

You couldn't help the nervous giggle that bubbled out of you, relief making you giddy. “I thought you were here to break up with me,” you admitted, reaching up to stroke the sharp angle of his jaw, carding your fingers through his wild hair.

“You what?!” Barty cried, rearing back in shock. “I’d sooner cut my cock off. Perish the fucking thought this instant. Baby, I’m yours.” He swung his leg over you, pining you beneath him. “You must never think that again, understand?”

“Bat—”

His fingers slipped under your arms, tickling along your ribs and making you squeal, bucking underneath his hold as you tried to escape. He was grinning like a fool, and only stopped when he managed to catch both your wrists to pin your arms over your head. “I've got you now, babygirl,” he purred, leaning down to whisper against your ear. “And guess what?”

“Hm?” You arched into him, the frantic, ticklish energy quickly morphing into something heady, intoxicating. The cloying heat only Barty could stoke in your belly.

“I love you,” he whispered against your pulse, sealing it with a kiss against the tender skin.

You sucked in a quick breath, heart tripping over itself, and you could tell instantly that he caught it, his lips curling into a smile.

“My darling, I love you so much.” He licked a stripe up your throat, the scalding caress of his tongue coaxing an airy whine from your lungs. “My favorite girl.” Kiss. “My most precious treasure.” Kiss. “I’m so in love with you it’s driving me mad—”

“Do you ever stop talking?” You silenced him with a greedy kiss, all teeth and tongue and desperation, elated that he was still yours, that he wanted you, loved you, so deeply. You wanted to devour him whole, never feel, never taste, never know anything but him.

Barty chuckled when you broke the kiss to breathe, releasing your hands so you could grab at his shirt, desperately trying to undo the buttons. He braced his hands against your headboard, letting you paw and take whatever you wanted from beneath him while he watched through lust-fogged eyes.

“You sure act like you love me,” he teased, and you pinched his hip, shooting him a glare.

“I love your dick,” you bit back, palming him through his pants, and finally, he shut the fuck up.

Barty’s POV

The Slytherin common room was raging, flashing green and cloudy with fog, music thumbing through the floor and up Barty's legs.

He was deep in a game of beer pong, absolutely smoking Regulus while a crowd watched on. But mentally, he was plotting his next escape to your dorm, where he'd been periodically bringing you drinks in exchange for kisses while you read your new romance book.

This next time, he’d probably stay with you instead of returning. You were probably starting to feel the effects of both the raunchy writing and the alcohol right about now, and that was a combo he wouldn't dare miss.

Just when he lined up his shot, determined to finish poor Reg off, he spotted you coming down the stairs. Dressed in tattered jeans and a pair of fishnets, one of his Sex Pistols tee's hanging loose on your frame…

He completely whiffed the shot.

He didn't care.

“Treasure!” He cried when you spotted him across the room, and everyone swiveled in surprise.

You sauntered over, a big, melty smile on your face, and threw your arms around his neck.

“Hiii, handsome,” you cooed, pulling him down for a kiss.

He could taste the booze on your breath, syrupy and disorienting. “Made the drinks a little strong, did I?” He chuckled, steadying you with an arm around your waist.

“Whaaat? No, m’fine—Dora!” You suddenly lurched away from him, throwing yourself at your best friend. “I missed you!”

“Hi, love. I missed you more,” Pandora laughed, hugging you back and casting Barty an accusatory glare, though her eyes glittered with amusement.

Barty shrugged and held up two fingers, answering her silent question of how many you'd had.

Pandora's eyes widened and she pointed at herself, then you, then held up two fingers behind your back.

Barty burst out laughing, then cajooled you out of Pandora's arms and back into his. “Baby, have Panda and I both been bringing you drinks?”

You giggled, hiding your face in his chest. “And Evan brought me a shot,” you said.

“He did?!” Barty pretended to be shocked, glancing over at his best friend, who held up his hands in innocence. “So you're right pissed, then.”

You stared up at the ceiling, like you were deeply contemplating this, then slowly lowered your glassy eyes back to his. “Perhaps,” you said carefully, and he snorted a laugh.

Merlin, you were fucking adorable.

“C’mon, Crouch. Game's not over,” Regulus griped.

Barry glanced down at the cups, finding Regulus had sunk two balls while he was distracted. “Guess it's time I catch up,” he hummed, shifting you to his side and taking the two big gulps of stale beer.

You wrinkled your nose in distaste. “I can go get some fresh ones,” you offered, attempting to take a stumbling half-step away from him.

“Nope.” Barty hauled you back into his side, arm bracketed along your lower back. “You're staying right here with me, little lush.”

With you under his arm, he sank his final shot, officially beating Regulus, then whisked you off to the dancefloor to celebrate his victory.

He was in heaven, booze pumping hot and thick in his blood, your body pressed in against his front, writing with abandon to the rock music blaring from the speakers. You looked supremely fuckable, glossed with sweat and starry-eyed, a wild grin on your pretty lips.

He bent down, nosing into your neck while you rolled your hips against his, too drunk to realize what you were doing to him. Or too drunk to care.

“Babygirl, you're killing me,” he purred against your balmy skin, his grip tightening on your hips to stop your movements. “Better stop unless you want me to bend you over the bar right here, right now.”

“Nuh-uhhh,” you whined, spinning in his arms to face him. “M’just dancin’.”

“Sure, sweet thing. And I'm a monk,” he chuckled, watching you press kisses to the inked valley of his sternum, his shirt most of the way unbuttoned by your tricky fingers. You were such an affectionate drunk, but it wasn't often you indulged enough to get drunk in the first place. He groaned when you glanced up at him, round eyes framed by thick lashes, and his cock gave a merciless kick against his trousers.

You grinned, kissing your way up his neck before pecking his lips. The taste of his own sweat on your lips made his mind go dark, lust shredding through the tenuous leash he had himself on.

“Bat,” you murmured, tugging on his chain to get his attention.

“Baby,” he replied, voice rougher than it was moments before.

You kissed him again, tongue dipping past his lips to brush against his before retreating again, taunting him. “Can I tell you a secret?” you whispered.

He nodded, legs locked to keep himself upright.

You cupped your hand around his ear, leaning in close enough that your breath tickled the hair around his ear. “I love you too.”

It was like a bucket of cold water was doused over his head, his heart seizing. Fuck, how amazing the words sounded on your lips, but you were so drunk. Too drunk to know what you were saying, let alone remember it tomorrow.

He knew you loved him, but he didn't want to hear it like this. Not for the first time. He wanted you to say it and mean it, and not need liquid courage to make you feel safe enough to admit it.

“Honey, fuck, I love you so much, but you don't mean that,” he said, gently folding your hands into his and leading you off the dancefloor.

You resisted, pouting. “I do mean it! I love you!”

“Treasure, please—”

“Don’t ‘treasure’ me. I love you, and I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner,” you argued, lips pulling down into a frustrated frown. Then, softer, just for him—“I love you, Barty.”

He winced, like a lance was shoved through his chest. “Stop it, you're drunk,” he said, fighting to keep his voice gentle while he tugged you somewhere quieter.

People were watching, your friends pushing forward to see what the fuss was about, and panic beat like a drum in his head.

“No! Why won't you let me love you?” You yanked your hands out of his hold. “You love me!”

“I do, but you can't—you don't know what your saying, love—” He couldn't the thought of you saying it now and not being able to tomorrow. That maybe you didn't mean it, that you were just telling him what he wanted to hear. False validation hurt far worse than none at all.

“What's going on?” Pandora interjected, stepping between the two of you.

Anger flared hot under Barty's skin. “Fuck off, Pan,” he bit.

“Hey—” Xeno barked.

“Don't fucking start with me, Xe.” Barty stepped up to his friend, ringed fingers curling into a fist. Fucking Xeno, putting doubts in his head…

Evan jumped between them before it escalated further. “Alright, that's enough. This is between Barty and y/n—”

“He upset her!” Pandora argued, her arms wrapped around your shoulders.

“M’fine!” You shot back, jerking out of her arms and nearly sending yourself to the ground.

“You aren't fine,” Barty growled, shoving Evan and Xeno out of the way and catching you before you toppled completely. “You need to go to bed.”

You deflated at his tone, moisture pooling along your lower lashes, and he felt like that biggest ass on the planet. “Why are you so angry with me?” You whispered, and his heart cracked.

“I'm not—fuck, baby. I could never be angry with you.” He pulled you into his chest, wrestling down the hurt churning in his gut. “Let's just get you to bed, yeah? Together?”

You hesitated, contemplating resisting further, but then you nodded, the last of your restraint dissolving from your muscles.

“Barty—” Pandora warned.

“I've got her,” Barty snapped, tightening a possessive arm around your shoulders. “Can you all just fucking trust me for once?”

They all fell quiet, looking back and forth from him to one another. He didn't give them a chance to respond, pushing through the semicircle they made around you and leading you up the stairs.

Neither of you spoke, the silence of your dorm only broken by his shuffling around and your sniffles. He hated himself for making you cry, wanted to tear his hair out and claw off his skin in repentance, but he just couldn't stand hearing you say that and not knowing if you meant it. It was the worst kind of torture.

He helped you into your pajamas and removed your makeup, then tucked you into bed with some water and a hangover cure ready to go on your nightstand.

You snuggled into your pillows, stuffed kitty folded into your chest, and blinked up him with sorrowful eyes. “Will you stay?” You asked, and his heart tried to punch through the wall of his chest.

He sighed. “’Course, love,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. He rummaged through your things, finding a pair of his sweatpants, and changed into them before crawling into bed beside you and shutting the curtain.

You nosed into his neck, arms bundled against his chest, and he cushioned your head with his bicep, the other draped over your waist.

“Don't let me ruin this,” you mumbled, voice sleep-addled and sad.

He kissed your forehead, guilt ringing hollow against his ribs. “You couldn't, treasure. You're stuck with me,” he tried to joke, but it was mirthless.

You shook your head, lips brushing along his clavicle, then your breathing deepened, muscles going lax, and you passed out in his arms.

He kissed your head again, nuzzling into your hair, and let his eyes wander to the crack in the curtain, where he knew he'd watch the sunrise in a few hours. Usually, he was able to sleep with you, the warmth and weight of your body soothing his mind enough to let him rest. But he knew there were no dreams waiting for him tonight.

So he'd hold you, and try not to think too hard, and watch the room inevitably fill with light.

Reader's POV

You woke up to an empty bed and a pounding headache, morning sunlight blazing through the gap in your curtain.

“Fuck me,” you groaned, sitting up and grabbing the potion from your bedside table, popping the cork and slamming it back. Immediately, the potion began to work, the sharpness behind your eyes dulling and your stomach settling.

Merlin, how much did you drink last night? You barely remembered anything after dancing with Barty—wait, where was Barty?

You were fairly certain he'd come to bed with you, and found evidence of that in the dented pillow on your left, the smell of his cologne lingering on the fabric.

You remembered him being angry about something, angry with you, but you couldn't remember why, the specific moments slithering through your fingers like silverfish.

You pulled aside your curtain, finding Pandora and Xeno tangled in her bed, Pandora braiding ribbons in her boyfriends platinum waves while he slept.

“Hey,” you croaked.

“Morning, sunshine. You fucked up,” Pandora said, waggling a finger at you.

You groaned, slumping back onto your pillows. “What did I do?”

“Told Barty you loved him. Loudly and in front of everyone.”

Your jaw fell open. No, no, surely you didn't do something so careless? “I couldn't have—”

“You did, and he's losing his mind over it. Been “showering” for about two hours,” Xeno grumbled, shifting a bit on Pandora's chest.

You couldn't believe yourself. That wasn't how Barty deserved to hear that, not after days of patiently waiting for you to pluck up the courage. You had to fix this. Had to make sure he knew the truth, and that it wasn't a drunken mishap, but the truth in your heart.

Throwing your covers off, you slipped out of bed, padding out of the room and sneaking over to the boys dorm.

You bumped into a freshly-showered Evan halfway to the boys bathroom.

“Hey, wait.” He caught you by the wrist. “If you're going in there to hurt him, don't,” he warned, glacial eyes narrowing.

“I'm not, Ev,” you promised.

“Because I like you, y/n. You're the same kind of bitch as me. But if you're fucking with my best mates heart, I'd hate to have to hate you.” He brushed past you, his words hanging heavy in the air.

You tried not to take it personally, Evan and Barty were fiercely protective of each other, but it still stung that he thought you'd intentionally hurt Barty.

Of course you wouldn't, you loved him.

You loved him.

Fuck, you were so stupid.

You pushed into the bathroom, steam thick and tepid. Only one shower was running, gray smoke curling around the gossamer plumes of steam, and the bathroom seemed otherwise deserted.

“Colloportus,” you cast, locking the door behind you. You approached the shower, knocking lightly on the wall. “Bat, you in there?”

An arm shot out from the curtain and yanked you in, pj’s and all.

“Barty!” You crashed into his wet, naked chest, the blast of hot water soaking you.

“Didn't expect you up for hours, drunkard,” he teased, petting the wet hair from your face, but his smile faltered when he noted the absence of yours.

You sputtered a little, trying to regain your resolve despite the shock. “I-I’m really sorry, Barty,” you said, reaching up to cup his face, stroking away the beads of water running down with your thumb. From the red around his eyes, deep purple stains underneath them, it was clear he hadn't slept at all.

“Sorry for what?” He asked, brows drawing together. He was putting on a brave face, but you could tell that you'd hurt him, and it made your heart splinter.

“For telling you the way I did instead of the way I should have.” You brought his hands to the hem of you soaked-through shirt, guiding them to lift it up and over you head, wanting to be as close to him as you could in this moment—no barriers.

“Baby, you don't have to—”

You shimmied your shorts down, the fabric landing with a wet plop on the tile floor. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, searing heat blooming everywhere your skin touched. “I want to,” you murmured, drawing him down for a feather-light kiss. “I need to.”

He loosed a shaky exhale, eyes flitting nervously over your face while his hands came to a tentative rest on your hips.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “Bartemius Crouch Jr., I love you. I love you more than anything. And I’m sorry—”

Barty turned, crushing you against the wall and stealing the last of your apology with a fervid kiss. “I love you more,” he growled, a visceral purr of approval against your ear. “Not so hard, hm?”

You nodded, a pitiful whine plucked from your throat when his fingers prodded between your legs, wasting no time spreading you open and smearing your slick over his palm.

“My brave girl, I'm so proud of you,” he cooed, sinking knuckle deep into your clenching heat, making you keen. “So good f’me, aren't you?”

“I was just so scared,” you whimpered, hips rocking into his hand as he parted your gummy walls, scissoring you open with a second finger.

“I know, honey. I know you better than anyone,” he murmured, a possessive edge sharpening his voice. “I knew you loved me, just like I knew you wanted me months ago. Before even you did, silly little thing.”

“Yes, Barty—fuck,” you moaned.

He curled his fingers, pressing against the spot that made your knees give out, white blooming behind your eyes. He silenced your cries with his mouth, smothering you while he fucked you with his fingers, the lewd squelch of your pussy barely muffled by the thundering water.

“Say it again,” he gruffed, his free hand coming up to wrap around your throat, holding you up by the febrile column.

“I love you,” you gasped, loosing air as his hand tightened, the heat in your belly building higher and higher, near to combusting.

“Again.”

“I luh—” you wheezed, unable to draw enough air to finish the phrase.

“Heart’s beating so hard, treasure. All for me?”

You nodded, head going fuzzy from lack of oxygen and the looming orgasm, putty in his merciless hands.

His eyes were black, obfuscated with lust and providence, a ferality barely tethered.

You were about to break, dragged roughshod to release, when suddenly his hand retreated, leaving you empty. Gutted.

But then he was pushing inside you, splitting you down the center with his thickness, so full you swore you could taste him in your throat. His grip loosened on your neck, allowing you a swig of air as he groaned, rutting savagely into your softness.

“So fucking tight, little cunt’s like a vice,” he grated, lifting your legs for a deeper angle, leaving you suspended and helpless to receive whatever he gave you. “Gonna come for me, baby? Let me fill you to the fucking brim with my love?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babbled, nails dragging down his shoulders as you desperately tried to hold on while the world fell away.

“Go on, tres. Give it to me. Don't hold back.” He huffed into your neck, his thrusts getting rougher, sloppier as he swelled inside of you.

Your orgasm blasted through you, ripping you apart at the seams, and you sank your teeth into his shoulder, muffling yourself as he fucked you through it.

“Fuck, that's it—fucking take it—” his own release slammed into him, and he bottomed out with a punishing snap. You could feel his cock surging against your ruined pussy, filling you completely, body and soul.

His grip on your relaxed as the strength bled out of him, his lips tracing a path up your throat, finding your lips in a lissome, sodden kiss.

“I love you,” you whispered, tears pooling behind your eyes as the onslaught of feeling dissipated.

“I love you,” he replied, peppering kisses all over your face in the way that never failed to make you smile. He set you gently on your feet, an arm around your waist in case you stumbled. “Are you okay, though? Really?”

You nodded, pecking his cheek as you stepped back under the deliciously warm stream of water. “I'm in love, what could be wrong?”

He grinned, blinding as the sun, and scooped you back up in a toothy, buoyant kiss. “Absolutely nothing, my love. Absolutely nothing at all.”

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