#eyes and nose got revoked

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Part 4: Visitors

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: implied child loss Note: Thank you for all of your support! I'm starting to run low on ideas for the Rileys. If y'all would like more, I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments or my DMs! I will say, my BIG Ghost headcanon is that he has a tongue piercing, so do with that what you will *side eye* Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

John cracked the door to the hospital room and poked his head in. “I heard you kids are ready for visitors?”

“You’re in your forties, Price. You’re hardly older.”

“And yet, here I am, honorary granddad.”

Simon was too focused on the small bundle in his arm, gently tracing a tiny button nose before laying his open palm on her belly. He had shed his balaclava hours ago but still sported a skull-printed facemask. He recently left his hair longer than usual on the top but kept it tight on the sides. It was thick and almost shaggy, blonde locks starting to wave and curl at the ends.

The group entered the room, a massive barrage of foil and latex balloons squeezing through the door frame behind them. The sergeants wore beaming smiles as they rushed to Freyja, laid back in bed, and each thrust huge, full bouquets of flowers. “Oh dear Jesus,” she laughed tiredly, taking them both and resting them on the table at her bedside. She would ask the nurses to take care of them later. Surely they would have some vases she could borrow until they went home. 

Most of her labor was spent on her feet, unable to bring herself to get in bed for hours. She took to either hunching over it, Simon’s calloused hands gripping hers and dragging up and down her spine, or practically hanging from his shoulders, her forehead pressed against his chest. In a state of pure exhaustion, Price convinced her to give her feet rest, even if only for a little bit.

Not wanting to overwhelm her as the boys fussed over her, John calmly approached with a soft smile and placed a hand on her head. “You broken?” he asked, petting her hair as the boys tied off the balloons to the rails of the bed.

“I’m good,” she smiled back, leaning into the touch. She motioned for a hand, and Price and Soap helped her adjust to sitting up straighter. Johnny bent down and pressed a loud, wet kiss to her cheek, which she batted away with a scrunched nose. “Si, bring her here. Price first.”

“Aww, not fair! ‘M the best lookin’ uncle! I should go first!”

“Johnny,” Simon warned, giving the Scot a warning look. “Keep it down before I revoke your godfather privileges.” It was an empty threat, but he piped down anyway.

Soap was a human battering ram leaving the base, plowing through any soldier and recruit that got in the way as Gaz, Ghost, and Freyja followed closely behind. John saw a small smile on her flushed face when Gaz and Soap squeezed into the front seat together, chanting We’re having a baby over and over, to which she retorted, I didn’t realize the 141 was a military polycule.

John nestled the infant into the crook of his elbow, her swaddle shifting to leave her arms free. She squirmed, moving from Simon’s arms to John’s, her pink little face scrunching up in irritation. He gently brushed a finger along her sternum, which her tiny hand wrapped around, and she settled again. “She’s beautiful, Y/N.”

Johnny leaned over the Captain’s shoulder, Kyle doing the same on the other side. “God help her if she gets your ugly mug, Lieutenant,” Gaz teased, wiggling one of her feet within the blanket.

Ghost decided to let that one pass. “This is your granddad, lovie,” Simon said, his quiet voice rumbling. “Price, this is Joan.”

John’s eyes flickered between the man in front of him and the woman in the bed behind him. “Joan?”

“Mmm,” Simon nodded, his mask shifting as his cheeks rose underneath. He wasn’t usually so expressive but was exhausted and feeling particularly sappy.

John’s eyes watered, and he blinked back at the newborn. He had spent five long, sleepless days in that same hospital, forever yet not so long ago. John didn’t have a wife or children of his own. His team was the closest thing he had to family. He felt a fatherly responsibility to all four of them. Even then, it shouldn’t have been John Price cradling her face, whispering words of helpless encouragement, countless hours desperately pleading with command to pull Ghost out of his mission, to no avail.

Simon didn’t return until four months later.

He couldn’t remember a time before that when he had felt his heart break cleanly in two. Notifying next of kin was difficult but quick; drop the news and move on to the next. But the pain and, for lack of a better for, agony Freyja suffered during Simon’s access was unlike anything he’d witnessed.

Now the warm, healthy baby in his arms was his namesake.

“I’m honored, Simon. Thank you, both of you.”

“We were thinking ‘Joanie’ for a nickname.”

Soap whipped around, wide eyes meeting Freyja’s. “Like…Johnny? Me?” he whispered, his skin suddenly hot and his ears turning a bright shade of red. At the slightest sign of confirmation from her, he tackled his Lieutenant with his entire body weight, arms thrown around his neck. Simon grunted at the sudden contact and stumbled just a step. He awkwardly patted the man’s back with one hand.

“Johnny.”

Sniff.

“Get off of me.”

“You named yer daughter after me!”

“I named my daughter after my Captain.”

“Sure, Ghost. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

~*~

Simon was pulled from his slumber by the soft rustling and whines from the foot of their bed. Soft morning rays peeked through the gap in the curtains. Before her cries grew to high-pitched shrills and woke Freyja from her much-needed sleep, he rolled out from the covers and shuffled to pick her up. “Mornin’, lovie,” he hummed, unwrapping the tight bundle and freeing her limbs. Simon chuckled at her long stretch, carrying her out of their bedroom and quietly closing the door behind him. She deserved a little extra sleep.

He puttered around the house with Joanie in one arm, softly chatting about their plans for the day. Simon spent a lot of time talking to her, eyes resembling his gazing up at him, smiling or gurgling occasionally when she gummed her hands. He would tell her about any messages or videos her uncles had sent, funny stories from base, tales of his and Freyja’s travels during their time in the service. He had yet to talk about his parents or her Uncle Tommy, and anything related to missions was absolutely off the table.

A tiny, soft palm smacked his chest, grabbing his attention. His lip tugged at the corner, and he playfully tapped her nose. “What’re ya doin’, there? I’ve got nothin’, unfortunately. ‘M not your mum.” Freyja would tell him his accent got thicker the more tired he was if she were awake. He never really noticed a difference.

The bottle warmer on the counter pinged, indicating that it was ready. 

He settled in the deep corner of the couch as she ate, staring up at his like she always did. “Pretty girl,” he muttered while thumbing her cheek, which was starting to get that chunky plushness with every pound she gained. He stared and stared until she shoved at the empty bottle. It was placed on the coffee table, and Simon slid down until he was on his back, with her small body perched on top of him.

“I’m not sure what I did to deserve you and your mum.” She lifted her head at the sound of his voice, another skill she had been approving. “Your granddad’s always tellin’ me I’m too hard on myself. ‘You’re a hero, Simon, you save thousands of lives every day’,” he said, mimicking John’s posh accent. “Certainly don’t feel like a hero. It’s our job to protect people. ‘We get dirty and the world stays clean’.” Simon snorted, and the baby cooed at him, stretching to palm at his face.

“How’s that work? I’m supposed to keep the public safe but I couldn’t protect my family. I was gone. Your mum almost died.” He blinked away the hot tears in his eyes. He cleared his throat to chase away the burning ache forming. His fingers rubbed her back to ground himself, taking deep, steady breaths. When Simon turned his eyes from the ceiling back to his daughter, he saw her fighting sleep, eyes fluttering.

He could stay like that forever.

“But then we might not have you. Funny, that.”

Snoozing soundly against his warm skin, his hand firm enough to keep her in place so she couldn’t slip off. Simon got as comfy as he could without jostling the baby too much, wedging a throw pillow under his neck. 

He had never considered leaving his profession before seeing an empty nursery, dismantled and stripped to not look at it for another moment. They had both lost small pieces of themselves then. Simon had to learn to cope with the guilt of not being present for his wife during her darkest times, and Frey struggled to grasp her new reality, one that went against all of her plans at the time. 

But she was stubborn and determined to work, knowing he wouldn’t leave the force without her.

At the time, he was furious at her American pig-headedness and inability to listen to reason.

Now, with new photos littering their shelves, new toys and clothes strewn about, and his phone relentlessly ringing with desperate pleas for FaceTime calls and pictures, he was grateful. 

~*~

Where the fuck is he?

Freyja moved through their house with brows furrowed together as she searched the rooms for her husband. Panic briefly overtook her when she woke and found an empty bassinet until she realized the bed next to her was as well and figured Simon had taken their daughter to another room. 

But which one?

Eventually, she found him sprawled out on the couch, one leg dangling off the chaise and an arm thrown over his eyes. He looked peaceful with their newborn against his bare, scarred chest, slowly rising and falling with each breath. Her heart swooned, and she snapped a quick picture of the scene. Simon lifted his arm at the shutter click, his eyes half-lidded. A sleepy grin tugged at his lips, and he beckoned her over. “Hi, sweetheart,” he whispered as she bent down, securing a lazy kiss with a soft groan.

Their first few weeks as parents were blissful, even with the lack of sleep and drastic change in routine. Joanie was sleeping well, but Freyja and Simon struggled to get used to her sleep schedule. Anxiety and PTSD flared when she dreamt, and she often shot awake at any little noise, immediately going to the bassinet. He had nightmares but had gotten used to them since childhood, whereas her night terrors only started in the last couple of years.

Even at her young age, it was clear that she was already a daddy’s girl. Little Joan recognized his voice from across the house and sought him out, refusing to settle until she was in his arms or strapped to his torso. She preferred sleeping on their chests, listening to their heartbeats. She especially loved skin-on-skin contact.

Simon took to fatherhood immediately, fussing over her every need and want and happily chatting away, although they were one-sided conversations. His dad jokes were almost unbearable. If you had told her a few weeks ago that there was room in her to love Simon even more, she would have told you you were crazy. But watching him with his daughter proved her wrong. Her heart grew impossibly with every passing day.

On top of that, the sight of him with their daughter snuggled up with him, his tattooed sleeve, blonde hair mussed with sleep? God damn.

“You should know I’m dying to jump your bones right now.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled wider. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, the daddy energy’s really doin’ somethin’ for me.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, love. I’ll take ya to bed as soon as you’re able. It’s only been two months.”

Small hands grasped at his skin, alerting him to her stirring. Simon gently shushed her as he sat up, shifting her to his shoulder; she somehow looked even tinier in his hold. Something fluttered in her chest again as he nuzzled Joanie’s shoulder, and she beamed at him. He shifted under her gaze, looking amused.

“Staring’s kind of my thing, Frey. It’s unsettling.”

“I told you, fatherhood looks good on you.”

BANG BANG BANG

“Good mornin’ Mexico!” Soap’s voice cried through the door, followed by Gaz’s chesty cackles.

Only Freyja jumped when the door shook, but they both looked towards it, Simon’s brow raised. “Bloody hell, are they daft? It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday!”

“Which means it’s their only free time, and they want to see us,” she scolded and nudged him to the kitchen. He acted tough, but she knew her husband well enough to know how much the team’s affection meant to him. Neither of them had any family to speak of, whether in England or America. It takes a village to raise a baby, as they say, and what a town they had.

With a wicked smile on her face, as Simon passed her, she wound up and slapped his ass with a sharp crack, earning a hiss.

“The fuck, Frey!”

“Your fault for walking around like that! It’s scandalous!”

He was wearing grey sweatpants.

“You’re pushin’ it, love. Don’t be a cheeky brat.” (Translation, ‘I love it, please do that again’).

He disappeared into the kitchen, and Freyja tied her robe in front as someone banged on the door again. “Jesus Christ, hold your horses!”

The second the lock turned, Gaz busted the door open (it bounced off the coat rack behind it), ready to pounce. “Where’s the babe?” he cried, hands on her shoulders as he physically moved her out of his way.

“Hello to you too, Kyle. Lovely weather we’re having.”

He pecked her cheek with a quick Hello, then immediately flipped her off, storming past her towards the kitchen where soft baby noises came from. From the other room, she heard the sergeant practically squeal, “There’s my girl! Give her here!”

“Sergeant—”

“Kindly get fucked, mate!”

“I’m warning you, Garrick!”

A scuffle and light cursing rang through the house, and Soap’s laugh shook the walls as he hugged her tightly, squishing her. “Pure mental about that baby, he is,” he said, then kissed her forehead. “Oof, ya look like shite, hen.”

“Thank you, Soap. It’s truly a marvel that you’re still single.”

They joined Ghost and Gaz in the kitchen, Johnny carrying two large paper bags. The warm smell of butter, grease, and onions wafted through the air, and Freyja deeply inhaled, savoring it. “We brought breakfast as payment for your troubles.”

She snatched one from him, pulled one of the takeout boxes out, and threw herself at the table.

“Did you put the kettle on?” Kyle asked, smiling down at Joan and tickling her belly. She kicked her legs furiously, grabbing at his fingers with both hands in a tight baby grip. “Holy shit, the bloody grip on you!” 

Simon huffed and muttered some choice words under his breath. “I was workin’ on it when you nearly broke my door in and kidnapped my child.”

“Sweet, I’m dyin’ for a cuppa.”

As if reading each other’s minds, Soap and Freyja groaned, in sync, “Fuckin’ Brits.”

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#simon ghost riley x wife!reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x sniper!reader #husband simon riley #simon riley x wife!reader #simon riley x pregnant!reader #simon ghost riley #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw #cod mwii #fanfic #cod mw ghost #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #angst #fluff #call of duty #task force 141/reader #ghost 👻 #ghost x y/n #modern warfare 2 #modern warefare reboot #ghost mwii

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (I) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

Part II / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x Gender Neutral Reader

Notes: Not canon compliant, cursing, Kreacher is a little shit

Following the sudden death of Cedric Diggory months before, the magical world flipped on its nose. The Daily Prophet pumped out towers of articles denouncing The Boy Who Lived, dubbing Harry as The Boy Who Lied.

Clever. Seriously, people actually subscribe to read that shit?

Surprisingly, Dumbledore forbid any form of contact with Harry during the summer--Hermione and Ron threw quite the fit after receiving the news. The most unsurprising reaction came from the ex-convict himself, Sirius Black.

Azkaban somehow became even less appealing after having to sit through his meltdown at the dinner table.

Who knew dementors could twist your spirit so far as to make petulant meltdowns a regular occurrence.

If his word was anything to go by, he got the better end of the deal compared to his murderous, psychopathic cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange.

Entirely reassuring.

The inability to rant to Harry via letters, deal with Ron's whining, engage Hermione in her tangents, or sit around Sirius left you with no choice but to venture around on your own.

There was virtually no chance of running into anybody but the twins (who seriously needed their apparating privileges revoked) on your little escapade.

The hallways were dusty and suffocating from the sheer amount of unkempt gothic vintage furniture lining the perimeter. While an uncanny atmosphere of suffering blanketed every centimeter of the walls.

Wandering aimlessly, a sudden pulse of magic combined with your reckless compulsion steers your attention towards a tall, black door. The crystal door knob was dull in the dim light, the keyhole and backing rusting with age.

Clearly, no one has gone into the room in years--decades, even.

The room was located on the third floor of the house, far away from the bedrooms the Weasleys were sleeping in and even farther away from the restless master of the house (who was pacing like a maniac in the kitchen for the nth hour straight).

What's the worse that can happen?

Famous last words (Harry's impulsivity was definitely rubbing off on you).

The door put up quite a fight when you tried to twist the knob, creaking in protest before finally giving way as you pushed with your entire body.

You stumbled in, nearly choking on the cloud of dust that danced up into the air with your ever so graceful entrance. Taking a look around, you came to one conclusion.

The room was utterly boring.

Boxes lined nearly every inch of the floor, the wallpaper peeling and dragging down the walls, and the small window across the room was clouded by dirt. A lone ray of light illuminated a small black dresser table against the wall. Curiously, you carefully weaved around the boxes on the floor and padded towards the dresser.

Just as you reached to pull one of the drawers open, an unsettling prickle ran down your spine. Instinctively grasping at your wand, you spun around only to be met with the opposite wall and more dust.

Quickly scanning the room again, your breath caught in your throat as you locked eyes with a pair of narrowed ones.

It was a bloody portrait.

“Who are you? Who let you in here?”

The boy in the painting seemed only a few years older than you with pin-straight posture and sharp features to match. His voice echoed with firmness, a voice that seemed used to commanding respect and attention.

But Merlin and Morgana…he was divine. So divine that even Draco Malfoy would lose his composure if someone this attractive showed up at Hogwarts.

“No one...I'm no one. Who are you? You look…er-familiar.”

Your last words came out as more of a question as you slowly drank up every detail of his features.

The boy’s eyes narrowed further into a glare, seemingly starting to become irate with your dodgy answer. Before he could retort, a familiar pop sounded through the room and before you could even comprehend what was happening, a familiar house elf was barreling through the boxes and dropping in front of the portrait.

“Master Regulus! Kreacher has failed you! Disgraceful Master Sirius has stolen everything! Oh my poor Mistress!”

The boy seemed taken aback by the sudden intrusion and the rather emotional outburst from Kreacher.

Seriously, could portraits take that many steps back?

Watching for a few more moments with wide eyes, it seemed that nothing the boy was saying was registering to the inconsolable elf.

Going to give the elf and Regulus some privacy, you scampered away and closed the door with much effort and an audible huff.

As you started walking away, a sudden bang nearly snatched your soul out of your body. Spinning around, confusion washed over you as Kreacher struggled to clamber off of the worn carpet, a disgruntled noise echoing around the hall.

Kreacher had just flew into the wall. Did the elf lose some screws and try to become a part of the bloody wallpaper?

“Kreacher? What happened?!”

Before the snippy elf could reply, loud footsteps pounded nearby and a disheveled Sirius bounded up from the staircase, shooting a look of mixed disbelief and contempt at his elf.

“What the hell?! Kreacher what are you doing?! You can’t just leave when I’m telling you to do something!”

Feeling, again, like an intruder to a conversation, you shuffled against the wall and towards the stairs as the house elf snarled at the older man, briefly eyeing you with confusion. Raising your eyebrows, you watch as the elf shoots glances behind him towards the room before popping away from a screaming Sirius.

Rolling your eyes, you say a silent farewell to the mysterious room only to notice the door was no longer there. The area where the door should have been was replaced with nothing more than peeling wall and a dusty wall lamp.

Did you just hallucinate the last 10 minutes of your life?

Apparently not. A few days had passed since your strange encounter with Regulus Black in the disappearing storage room, and you had somehow gained the undivided attention of Kreacher.

It seemed the barmy elf held some newfound admiration for you since you somehow reunited him with the young master he actually liked.

You were nose-deep in a book about Ancient Property Magic from the Black Library when the elf hesitantly approached you.

"Kreacher has a question for the young blood-traitor."

What a punk.

Placing the book off to the side, you rub the bridge of your nose in exasperation.

How did Hermione go on for hours reading in these conditions?

All the words were blending together and your eyes stung from all the damn dust in the house.

"Hello Kreacher. What do you need?"

"How did the young blood-traitor find Master Regulus? Kreacher doesn't know how Master Regulus is here...Kreacher has failed...Master Sirius is a lawless traitor undeserving--"

"Woah! Okay...while I am not too sure about how exactly I found that room. I suppose it is a good thing you have such er--apprehensions about Sirius. I don't think he would appreciate me breaking into one of the rooms here."

Which was entirely true.

Sirius was off his rocker. The combination of being away from his godson, listening to his mother screech every morning, and having to deal with Molly fussing over everyone was working him up the wall.

You felt almost bad for not telling Sirius about Regulus, but he had plenty on his plate and it felt nice to have something to yourself--your own little summer secret.

Granted, it was more accurate to describe it as a dead-pureblood-heir summer quest. Though, not as weird as giving a troll brain damage in your first year at Hogwarts.

Suddenly, you had a great idea.

"Hey Kreacher, want to go exploring with me?"

The house elf was skeptical for most of your trek upstairs, and he looked positively gleeful when you managed to somehow summon the secret door.

Apparently, Kreacher was magically expelled from the room the moment you left. So you were somehow the key to accessing the missing Young Master.

Before you could even caution the elf or come up with a speech for Regulus, the little thing was already flying for the door knob.

"You are back."

Regulus looked all but the same, except more tired than suspicious this time around.

"Yes. I hope you don't mind that I'm here. I have brought Kreacher as an olive branch to show that I am of no threat."

The boy's eyes flicker towards the unusually silent elf, and then pierces you again. Something akin to amusement danced in his eyes and you were almost offended.

You were no Harry Potter, but you weren't magically inept.

"Answer my question from last time. Who are you?"

"My name is Y/N. I don't know how or why this room exists, and it doesn't seem like Sirius has any knowledge of it. But from the looks of it, I'm the only one who can find this room."

"Sirius? He is alive then?"

Your lip quirks at the remark and you turn your gaze to the ceiling, "Yes, but he isn't quite himself".

"What?"

"Azkaban tends to have that effect."

"What?"

"You've missed a lot, Regulus. Like a lot. You're different from what I've heard though, pleasantly so. After all you haven't called me a foul, loathsome blood traitor. Nor have you tried to preach blood purity to me yet."

Regulus considers you for a few moments, eyes imperceptibly running over your expression. It is only for the briefest moment that you see something comparable to respect shine in his eyes.

Kreacher shifts uncomfortably and looked ready to butthead you, but Regulus interrupts the sudden blanket of silence.

"Kreacher, could you give us some privacy?"

The elf looked ready to vehemently protest in a manner similar to how he denies Sirius, but seemed to remember that he actually gave a flying handle about Regulus‘ opinion of him.

"If you wish, Master Regulus. Kreacher will be outside."

The elf pops away and you turn to maintain steady eye contact with the boy, becoming more intrigued with every passing second.

"You are right. I haven't tried to indoctrinate you or denounce your beliefs. I have been here for a long blur of time. I have had the space to formulate my own thoughts and opinions."

"Oh? A death eater finding salvation and seeing the light. Of course it'd be a feat only achievable through death."

"You speak as though we--they are still at large. Are there still death eaters around?" The disbelief flickering across his face spurred you to entertain him with an answer despite your former apprehension towards him.

"Yes. Many are well and alive. Lucius Malfoy prides himself in being able to circumvent the law and maintain his job in the Ministry despite his allegiance to the Dark Lord. Not that it will do him any good. From what I can deduce, the Dark Lord is not very forgiving."

Regulus looks like he's been suckerpunched in the gut, grimacing at every word that passes through your lips.

"You are right. Lucius will be punished for his treachery. I had hoped that the world would be rid of the Dark Lord after my death."

Confusion passes through you in waves as an indecipherable emotion mars his face.

So he wasn't a valiant supporter of the Dark Lord? Then it would seem the rumors that he was killed by the Dark Lord or his followers have some credibility.

"Well, the Dark Lord was gone, so to speak, for a while at least. It is only as of a few months ago did he come back in full form."

"I see."

"You don't seem surprised. Well, he killed one of my friends and traumatized my best friend so I hope you'll give me permission to wring his neck."

"You're quite vulgar."

"I am a saint compared to your brother, and my vulgarity is very much justified."

Regulus hums in understanding and you could almost see a miniscule smile stretching at his lips.

"Well, for your sake, I hope you never have to come face to face with the Dark Lord."

"I don't have much of a choice, he's been trying to eviscerate my friends and I since we were 11."

"Ah...well it would appear that you are to join me in the afterlife soon then."

"You'd like that wouldn't you? But I have no plans on dying anytime soon."

"Shame."

"Sod off. You're fine on your own...right?"

Dumb question, the man is literally stuck inside a painting in an abandoned secret room.

"It does get a bit lonely. But it is only the punishment for my sins."

"Well, I think you're quite swell. So don't worry, I have the whole entire summer to bother you. Think of it as an added layer of punishment."

"If you insist." His words conveyed exasperation, but the boyish smile that lit up his face told you a completely different story.

You couldn't help but admire his expression, committing it to memory because you were sure that his smiles were a rarity.

Pretty.

Wow. You were absolutely screwed.

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black imagine #regulus black fluff #regulus x reader #regulus black scenario #regulus black deserved better #harry potter series #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #regulus black fanfiction #the noble house of black #sirius black #hermione granger #ronald weasley

[aphrogeneias]

for the birthday girl —

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, sweet like birthday cake. beware of cavities.

The living room still smells of burning candles when everyone leaves.

There's a pack of unevenly shuffled cards on the table, near the half-eaten birthday cake. If you listened closely, laughter still echoed through the walls of the apartment, remnants of a happy night in the company of your dearest friends.

There's peace in the silence that is left over.

After you said your last goodbyes at the door, you'd been relegated to the couch, still wearing the silly bejeweled plastic crown Erica brought and insisted you'd use it — “for the birthday girl, duh.” — and a blanket over your exposed legs, not yet wanting to take off your new dress.

You listen to the one who'd insisted you sat down while they were in the kitchen. Eddie took your shoes off before setting a knitted blanket down over you, and while you tried to argue that, technically, it was past midnight and your birthday privileges could be revoked, he refused to listen.

Such a stubborn boyfriend you have, but you tend to not complain when it benefits you like this.

Eventually, the silence of the living room grows weary, and you stand to seek the company of the boy moving through the kitchen. Your barefoot steps barely make any noise as you approach him, with his back to you, facing the sink.

As if he hadn't spent all day in this very room, baking and decorating his very first birthday cake, until he realized he got too excited and messed up the recipe, having to ask Dustin to bring one from the store on his way here.

You'd spent the afternoon eating the icing, and you made him promise to not worry himself too much anymore — but here he is.

The sleeves of his shirt are pulled back to his elbows, showing off his inked forearms, wet from the dishes he's just finishing. His back is just as inviting as his arms as you wrap your arms around his lean waist, nuzzling yourself between his shoulder blades, and breathing him in.

It smells, and feels, like home.

“Thought I'd told you to stay put.” There's nothing but affection, and perhaps a little bit of amusement, in his voice.

“Don't want to.” You mumble with your cheek smushed to his warm back and the worn cotton of his long-sleeved shirt. “Missed you.”

“I was just in the other room.” His body vibrates with his chuckle, and you feel it go through him. Squeezing your arms around him, you let out a laugh too when he whispers, “Needy.”

“You love it.”

The two of you stay this way for a while, your hands travelling under his shirt, feeling the scarred skin of his sides and tummy beneath your fingertips — a reminder of the gift that is him, standing next to you for another year — until he finishes doing the dishes, and without drying his hands, turns to you. He takes your face in his wet hands, then, already chuckling at your protests, “Ugh, no!”

Water drips from your cheeks to your neck, but the feeling of his warm hands on the sides of your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks, is enough to make you ignore that. He is smiling even bigger than you are when he kisses your forehead, “Shhh. Let me.”

One, two, three. Four, five, six. Kisses to your forehead, nose, cheeks, jaw, chin. They keep adding up. To the top of your head to where your jaw meets your neck. You don't lose count, you notice.

One for each year you've been alive.

Involuntarily, your eyes fill with tears. “What's all this for?"

“You deserve’em.” His big eyes are shining too, under the yellow light of the kitchen. “Happy birthday, baby.”

He fixes the tiara on your head, and gives you one last kiss, this time on the lips. “Thank you.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic

[stxrslut]

Jjs gf being scared of needles. He takes her to a doctor appointment or something and she freaks out over it. Jj ends up having to literally hold her still so she can get the shot lol

no this is so me actually. I’m terrified of needles. they have no business being like that and I indeed do have to be held down to get my shots 😭

@devinedoll also wrote a cute little blurb about this!! make sure to check it out! also please do not send the same request to multiple writers at the same time. It can be extremely discrediting of our work.

“babe it’s only three second, you’ll be fine.” he soothes, one hand resting on the small of your back as he guides you towards the door of the doctors room.

you pointedly ignore his statement, instead focusing your attention on trying to figure out an escape plan. “it may just be three seconds jayj, but they’re sticking a needle in me! I don’t like that!”

“you’re being dramatic. It’s a tiny prick.” you roll your eyes at this, “what, like yours?” he lets out a dry laugh and pushes you forward into the doctors room.

the nurse who’s administering it seems nice enough. she explains what’s going on as she preps the needle and cleans the top of your arm.

but when she starts to approach you with the injection, you flinch away, scrambling into jj’s lap to try and shield yourself. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want it!”

jj smiles, blowing air out of his nose to avoid laughing. “it’s fine— hey, you’ll be fine.” but you shake your head and curl into him, keeping one hand over your arm to keep the needle off.

five minutes later, it becomes apparent that you’re not letting up, and so jj takes it into his own hands. “right. I don’t wanna have to do this babe but you’re not givin’ me a choice here..” he pulls your hand away, and you realise your mistake in coming to sit on his lap. now you’re stuck in his grip, being held in place against his chest.

“nononono I don’t want it— no no I can’t— jj let me go!” you start to cry, trying to squirm away from him. “please don’t- I don’t- I revoke my consent— or whatever. please don’t i don’t want it.”

jj is laughing now, but you don’t stop to think why. you just continue to freak out “jj please tell her not to.”

“I’m sorry sweets but uh- that’s not possible anymore.” his eyebrows are raised and he’s got a stupid grin on his face.

“jayj stop laughing,” you cry “I don’t want it!” you don’t understand what he finds so amusing about what you can only describe as your pure terror.

“babe!” he moves your gaze towards him “you’ve already had it.” he looks at you, waiting for you to clock on.

“what?” you sniffle, calming down a bit when you realise nobody is trying to stick a tiny metal tube into your arm any more.

“yeah. while you were havin’ your little freak out over here,” he gestures to your person in general “the nurse gave you your shot, and you did not even notice it.”

“oh…” you look up at the nurse and then down at your arm to see the bandaid that’s been placed there.

“yeah… c’mon lil’ drama queen. we’re goin’ home to get you some ice cream.”

#anon #cw needles #lily writes 🌷 #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank smut

[kiwisfics]

A/N - Gotham Knights verse. This isn't as... well-written(?) as what I've been posting. I typed this out on my phone in response to having an overwhelming desire to use Jay as a bed. It's just some silly little fluff. Shout out to this post

Reader is mentioned to have a big ego and be small, but compared to GK!Jay who wouldn't be? Jason also calls reader a brat.

Reminder that these are all originally self-insert writings, so let me know about any other descriptors that slip through.

-

The first indication that he was awake was the grunt he let out as she crawled over him, lying stomach down with all her weight resting on his torso. Still, he didn’t move or even open his eyes. That was fine. She’d really only settled herself onto his chest because she wanted to stare.

Cautiously, she moved her hand to his face, tracing over his brow, just barely ghosting her fingers past his eyelashes, down the bridge of his nose, and to his lips.

He’d deny later that he’d puckered his lips just enough to kiss the tip of her finger.

Her hand stayed where it was for a moment before even more cautiously beginning to trail over the scar on the left side of his face.

His eyes opened then, finding her own fixated on where she touched.

“You’re touchy today.”

She hummed, eyes moving to his own but her fingers still against his scar, “You just looked so nice, I had to admire you.”

He hummed; the sound just emotive enough to indicate that he disagreed.

“Well, I’m right so, deal with it.” She shifted enough to graze her lips over his own, grinning into the kiss when he immediately moved a hand to the back of her head to hold her there. When he released her, she bumped her nose against his own, “Besides, you always look nice, but you just looked really comfy too lying on the sofa.”

“You just wanted to use me as a bed, didn’t you?”

“Guilty as charged.”

The husky chuckle that earned all but made her melt into him, a satisfied hum being released into the crook of his neck as she rested her face against it.

“What else is you being so big for?” It was muffled into his skin, but he understood, nonetheless. He’d gotten good at deciphering her muddled words considering how often she spent shoving her face into his touch like she couldn’t get enough.

“It’s pretty good at helping take down the bad guys.”

“But that’s not what it’s for. It’s for me, so you can be a good bed and the best cuddler.”

He huffed out another laugh, shifting his hands to rest against her lower back, “For you, huh?”

“All mine.” She nipped at his pulse to prove her point.

“Yeah? Well, what do I get out of being yours, huh?”

“Me? Duh.” She huffed, obviously still playful, judging by the grin he felt pressing into his neck.

“Awe, now I feel like you’re getting the short end of this deal.”

“Shut.” She placed a hand over his mouth. “You’re quite literally husband-shaped. The size of a hecking fridge. You’re literally perfect. Don’t argue with me ‘bout it. I’ll win.”

He licked her hand, but she hardly responded, just scoffing lightly before pulling her hand away, “Husband-shaped, huh?”

“Mhm. I said what I said.”

“You’re adorable.”

“Sure am. And you’re hot.”

“I don’t know why I’d ever need to believe that, not when you’ve got a big enough ego to cover the entire team.”

She sat up then, glaring down at him, “Say you’re hot right now.”

“What’re you gonna do if I don’t? You’re the size of a minifridge.”

“I’ll revoke kissing privileges.”

He quirked a brow, “Punishing yourself?”

“Excuse me? Are you implying that you don’t like my kisses? Well fine, then-“ The instant she started to climb off of him, he grabbed her around the waist.

“Alright, alright. I guess I’m okay.”

“Nuh-uh. Not what I said.”

“Fine, you brat. I’m hot.”

“Yeah, you are!”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #jason todd fluff #dc

[marvelmymarvel]

Face Paint

Tobirama Senju x Reader

Synopsis: Normally, he was able to paint his face easily and swiftly, but today was not his day. Thankfully, you were more than eager to paint his face for him.

Naruto Masterlist: Here

A/N: Photo is not mine! I found it on Pinterest. Please let me know if you know the artist so I can credit them :)

Ps: this might be my favorite fic atm

Another grunt sounded out into the room, causing your eyes to flick once more from your book toward the white-haired man on the floor. His red eyes shone brightly in the mirror as the rays of the morning sun bounced off of the reflective surface and onto his unpainted face. Upon further analysis, you could tell by the way his nose was scrunched up that he was getting frustrated. "Tobirama" you called out quietly as your eyes flitted back down to your book, "Do you need help, my love?"

Another grunt hit your ears, and you bit back a smile as your eyes once more flicked up to where he was, but this time he was looking at you rather than his reflection in the mirror. Snapping your book shut, you crawled off of the bed and onto the floor beside him. "You know how much I love painting your face" you cooed out, fingers tracing his reddening cheeks as he looked away, embarrassed by the immense amount of love that dripped from your words. You took his silence as permission and carefully pried the paintbrush from his hand, "Move, please" you commanded as you tried to shimmy your way onto his lap.

"You're so demanding" he grumbled but moved anyway to make sure you were comfortably seated on top of him. "I think that's the reason you married me" your tease caused him to scoff but before he could bite back anything, you pecked his nose, once more causing him to short-circuit.

"Paint please"

He broke away from your gaze to grab the paint beside him, grumbling about how lovey-dovey you were being today. The two of you shouldn't have worked, no one saw the relationship coming but they also weren't complaining. In comparison to his harsh and hardened persona, you were bright and bubbly. Tobirama often wondered if putting you two together was some cruel joke the Gods organized.

But he didn't hate it.

You dipped the paintbrush into the red paint, eyes narrowing as you focused on painting his lines correctly for you feared one mistake would make him revoke this privilege. Tobirama bit back a sigh as you angled his face up to start with his right cheek. You weren't paying attention to anything other than drawing, but it gave Tobirama a chance to take you in without you teasing him. Your face was relaxed, yet there was a slight crease in your brow as you carefully began drawing a straight line across his cheekbone. He'd never voice it, but times like this reminded him of how lucky he was to have you in his life.

Your e/c eyes darted to his, a smirk forming on your lips at his love-struck look. Deciding not to say anything, you tilted his reddening face to the other side, now beginning to work on his left cheek. He tried to not stare as deeply at you, but he once again zoned out on your beautiful concentration.

"You're so cute when you're flustered" you cooed out as you tilted his head back to get his chin.

"So help me Y/n"

"Done!" you squeaked out as you flew off of his lap, nearly missing his grasping hand as he tried to catch you. Your giggle filled his ears as he chased you across the room, it didn't take long till you were cornered against a wall, your breathless giggles and pleads only causing his heart to grow bigger. Tobirama grabbed your arms, hand slipping up to grab the paintbrush from you, "Thank you my darling" he whispered before softly pressing his lips to yours.

Now it was your turn to grow flustered as you tried to spit back a retort, but you couldn't come up with anything, so you just stood there in shock. It wasn't like he never showed love, but this kind of love was playful...

Which was definitely not like him.

Before you could ask him what got into him, he pulled back and walked toward where his Hokage outfit was laid out. He paid you no mind as he set the paintbrush haphazardly on the dresser, "I have a long day today, but I'll hopefully be done by dinner time. If not, I'll have the ANBU come to fetch you-"

"What, you worried I'll get lost in my venture to the Hokage's office?" you teased but he simply shook his head at that, "Your mouth is going to get you in trouble someday" he bit back. From an outsider's perspective, they would have found his tone and words condescending and rude, but you knew him better than that. It was his own way of poking fun, and no one understood it better than you did, not even his own brother understood it. There were times when Hashirama pulled Tobirama aside to give him an earful about 'talking to you like an object and not a person'. You and Tobirama always laughed about those instances later at night in bed when no one could hear you.

"Have a great day Tobirama" you called out as he walked towards the door. He turned his head and shot a smile your way, "I'll see you at dinner time. Stay out of trouble" and with that, he was gone.

A bashful smile formed on your lips as you giddily watched where he was just standing. You were so in love with him and the fact that he let you do small things like this told you that he felt the same level of love. Taking a shaky inhale, you walked towards the bookshelf, lips curving mischievously as you moved back the jewelry box to get to the paintbrush you hid from him.

His paintbrush to be exact.

You eyed the paintbrush that Tobirama set down, that paintbrush just so happened to be yours. They both looked the same, however, yours was slightly shorter. It wasn't noticeable by look alone, but it was enough to cause him trouble when painting his face. Your plan had worked perfectly-

"By the way, I knew you switched our paintbrushes. I just wanted an excuse for you to sit on my lap"

Your wide eyes shot to the door where Tobirama stood, his smirk was cocky and caused your once mischievous grin to turn into a sheepish smile. "You could just ask next time... I do rather enjoy you painting my face"

You nodded at this, happy to hear that he wasn't upset with your little scheme. Without another word, Tobirama was once more off to his destination, leaving you feeling a whole mixture of emotions. But one stood out more than the others.

Unadulterated love.

#tobirama senju imagines #tobirama senju imagine #tobirama imagine #tobirama imagines #tobirama x reader #naruto imagine #naruto imagines #naruto fanfiction #tobirama senju

[george-weasleys-girl]

Hey. Could you maybe write a fic on Malfoy and his gang being horrible to Ginny, pushing her around, when Y/N is coming back from her detention late, she sees them, sends Ginny away and ends up in a fight with Malfoy and his gang? Don't go into details if that makes you uncomfortable of course. Then afterwards, reader goes back to the common room bruised up with blood on her knuckles, with all of Ginny's rescued belongings in perfect condition, she gently puts them next to her and sees Ginny tell the twins and Ron about what reader did for her. As she heads upstairs to change, the boys stop her and thank her for what she did and ask what happened, so she goes back to tell them all she left Malfoy with a broken nose and a few of them with bruised eyes or broken ribs, she's got an all day detention tomorrow as do Malfoy and his gang, but she doesn't care. Fred, her boyfriend, insists on talking to McGonnagal to get her detention revoked after saving Ginny maybe?

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

~•~

Malfoy swaggered up to her. "Lay one hand on me, and my father will have you expelled faster than you can say mudblood."

Y/N grinned. "Well then. I better make this worth my while."

~•~

Before Y/N discovered she had magical abilities, she dreamed of being the next Cheng Pei-Pei or Cynthia Rothrock. Growing up watching kung fu movies with her brothers, she grew to love all the greats like Bruce Lee, Toshiro Mifune, and Jackie Chan, but it was seeing a woman kick ass that thrilled her the most.

From the age of four, at least once a day, she was challenging her brothers to battle. They were always more than happy to be defeated and fall down "gravely injured," which only encouraged her more. So, on her sixth birthday, her parents enrolled her in a karate class. Then the summer before beginning Hogwarts, she earned her black belt.

Once she began her magical education, she, of course, could no longer attend regular classes, but she still continued to train every day, eventually attracting the attention of Hogwarts' biggest pranksters. It's wasn't long before the three became inseparable, and then over the past summer on Y/N's sixteenth birthday, she and Fred started dating.

So, when Y/N was walking back from detention with Snape for helping the twins set off a dung bomb during class, and saw Ginny surrounded by Malfoy and his two worthless lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle, she wasn't about to turn a blind eye.

"What's going on here, gentlemen?" She approached them with a congenial smile, her hands clasped behind her back. One of the first lessons her sensei taught her was that violence should only be used when all other options have been exhausted. A last resort. Y/N lived by that mantra. She would never be the one to throw the first punch, but she would throw the last.

"Well, we just saw poor Ginny walking alone," Malfoy explained. "And it's getting dark. We didn't want her getting harassed by any creeps, so we were escorting her back to Gryffindor Tower."

Y/N could tell by Ginny's wide-eyed, panicked expression that the Slytherin trio were the creeps they were claiming to protect her from. Without hesitation, she stepped between Malfoy and Crabbe and extended her hand to her friend, who grabbed onto it like a drowning man grasping to a lifeboat.

Pulling Ginny behind her, Y/N once again assumed her cheerful smile. "Thank you for your--thoughtfulness. I think I'm fully capable of safely escorting her the rest of the way. Enjoy your evening, gentlemen."

The two girls turned to walk away, but Goyle reached out and pushed Ginny to the ground, knocking the breath out of her and scattering her belongings in all directions.

Y/N glared at Malfoy as she kneeled to help Ginny up. "Oh, so sorry," he gibed. "That was an accident." Crabbe and Goyle snickered like a couple of drunk hyenas.

"Touch her again, and you'll regret it." Y/N hissed.

"Is that a threat?" Malfoy took a step closer, his lackeys flanking him.

"I don't make threats. I state facts."

"Oh, is that a fact?" He sneered. "What are you going to do? Beat the three of us up with your fancy mudblood hand waving?"

Y/N snorted. "Go ahead, underestimate me, Malfoy. That'll be fun." Then she turned to Ginny. "Go."

"But--" Ginny began.

"I'll be fine. Just go. I'll gather up your stuff when I'm done."

She turned back around, and Malfoy swaggered up to her. "Lay one hand on me, and my father will have you expelled faster than you can say mudblood."

Y/N grinned. "Well then. I better make this worth my while."

~•~

The whole matter took less than ten seconds.

Malfoy took a swing. She blocked his fist and took a swing of her own, punching him square in the nose with a sickening crunch. Goyle tried to come at her from the side, but she kicked him in the chest, knocking him backward. He crumpled to the floor, groaning and holding his side.

Y/N didn't wait to watch him fall, already turning around to take on Crabbe, who was running away down the hall as fast as he could go, no doubt to alert Snape. She took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. 'I'm gonna have detention for the rest of my life.'

It was only when Crabbe rounded the corner and was out of sight that she looked down at his two compatriots writhing on the floor. "Hang tight boys, Crabby's gone to get help," she said, then turned to gather up Ginny's supplies.

~•~

Y/N stepped into the common room and was suddenly surrounded by the twins, Ron and Ginny.

"Y/N, baby, are you ok?!" Fred asked, looking her over for any damage. "Ginny told us what happened."

"We were on our way to look for you," George said.

"Did you really take on Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle?" Ron asked.

"Only Malfoy and Goyle. Crabbe tucked tail and ran." Y/N then turned to Fred, who was now holding up her arm, checking for injuries. "Sweetie, I'm fine. I've got a little bleeding on my knuckles, but that's it."

"I just wanted make sure you're alright," he pouted.

"I know," she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "And I love you for it."

A light pink bloomed across his face, and he pulled Y/N into his side.

"Hey, you two better get a move on." Y/N said. "You're gonna be late for detention."

"Might be canceled considering you just beat up Snape's babies," George said.

"Hmm. Good point," Y/N agreed. "I'm gonna go try to grab a quick shower before I get expelled."

"What do you mean expelled?" Fred looked shocked.

"Just something Malfoy threatened," she answered. "Besides, I did break his nose and probably cracked a couple of Goyle's ribs."

Bloody hell," Ron exclaimed. "That's fucking brilliant. I wish I could've seen it."

Y/N laughed and handed Ginny her backpack.

"Thanks for saving me back there," the Weasley girl said.

"Anytime, kiddo," Y/N smiled.

Fred kissed the top of his girlfriend's head. "Yeah, thanks for taking care of her. And for knocking those shitheads down a notch."

"It was fun," she laughed. "And I don't think they'll be bothering Ginny or any other girl again."

~•~

As it turned out, thanks to Ginny and Fred, not only was Y/N not expelled, but McGonagall shortened her extra detention time from three months down to one.

"What do you say we sneak off to Hogsmede in a couple of days for a celebratory lunch at The Three Broomsticks?" Fred asked that evening as they cuddled by the fire.

"And risk getting even more detention?" Y/N laughed. "Absolutely!"

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @imshiningjustforyou @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @princess-paramour @anvaaryn @lastwandastan @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins

#fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #ginny weasley x platonic #george weasley x platonic #draco malfoy #harry potter fandom

[fluffyprettykitty]

hi bby! i have a request for your sleepover if you’re feeling inspired by it:

apocalypse!bucky — maybe a fluff piece?? i’d love for your imagination to run with it 🩷

pairing: avenger!bucky barnes x g/n reader

words: 300

a/n: thank you for the req baby, ily &lt;3 post apocalyptic avengers rebuilding the world let's go!

"Here, that's a good spot," Bucky said reading the shovel in his hand. His metal arm was shining against the sun.

"We could put three or four in a row, and then switch to the birch seeds down the line."

"Anything you want you're the boss." Bucky shrugged and threw the shovel in the dirt beginning to open a hole in the ground.

"Ha hah. If I was the boss I'd be showering daily." You rolled your eyes and placed your bag in the ground looking for the seeds.

"You know, next week when it's raining season, you can shower daily." He winked at you and continued shoveling the dirt away.

"Hmm, only when you're asleep."

"Oh." He said stopping just to dramatically hold his chest on the side of his heart with his free hand. "That hurts me."

"Good." You nod as you pull the container out of your bag. "Suffer."

"Alright, when you want to shower after we're done planting trees then my shower access will be revoked."

"I didn't know you showered." You snuffled up your nose. "It doesn't smell good around here."

"It's the soil." He retorts and looks at with an almost deadly stare.

"Right, the soil." You roll your eyes and with one quick move Bucky begins to shovel the dirt away and on to you.

"Hey!" You shout pacing a few steps back.

"Dirty. " Bucky points at you. "Wouldn't hurt to take a shower."

You shake your head and roll your eyes again.

"Be careful, we got plenty more trees to plant."

"Many more holes for me to dig."

He winks at you and continues and maybe later on when you both return to your base, you save some water by showering together.

#selenewrites #selene answers prompts #summer sleepover #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns imagine #burcky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #apocalypse au #bucky x reade #bucky barnes fanfiction

[catslvrr]

heaven sent — 11, 12, 13. everything in between

previous | next

The next three days spent together were a blur.

It was complicated — the two of you tiptoeing the line between embracing your time together as a couple, and dealing with the fact that your time together was running out.

You explored the city together like tourists, cramming each day with location after location. You went to the aquarium:

(“Do we really have to wear these again?” You grumbled as Danielle tucked the strawberry sunglasses on your head.

“Well, you were the one complaining about it being a one-time use thing. Now, it’s a two-time use thing!”

“The aquarium is indoors. We don’t need sunglasses.”

“Don’t you want the fishes to think that you’re cool?”

“Why would I care about what the fishes think?”

“What if I was a fish?”

“What?” You asked, perplexed. “Where did that come from?”

“If I was a fish,” she continued with a knowing smile. “Would you still love me?”

“I don’t know if I’d want to be in a romantic relationship with a fish,” you frowned.

“Hypothetically, what if I could shapeshift from fish to human? Thing is, you have to kiss the fish’s lips so I can transform, and I can only stay human for a few hours each day.”

“I guess I could do that,” you grimaced. “But I feel like every time we’d kiss as humans, I’d just imagine fish lips and get turned off.”

Danielle slapped your shoulder. “Is kissing all you think about, you pervert?”

“What?” You sputtered, turning red. “You’re the one that brought kissing up first!”

“Come on,” she laughed, dragging you to the car. “We’re gonna be late.”)

The zoo:

(“Danielle,” you mustered up a sweet tone. “Please get the koala off me.”

She laughed at your petrified face as she took photos. “I am so gonna show these to Minji when we get home.”

“Don’t you dare,” you said in a low voice, craning your neck as far away as possible from the furry monster. “I will revoke your big spoon privileges.”

“You sure about that?” she grinned annoyingly. “I know you like being the little spoon.”

“Well, why don’t you show Mr Koala here how good you are at being the big spoon,” you said through clenched teeth. “You have so much in common — being Australian, and all.”

She clicked her tongue teasingly. “I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your cuddles. You look comfortable with him.”)

On picnics:

(“It’s such a shame,” Danielle sighed melodramatically. “Our picnics aren’t as romantic as the first.”

You gave her a side eye as you sat down on the picnic mat. “Mind you, you’re the one that built a fantasy of that first date. I don’t even know where you got the idea of scattered petals from.”

“A girl can dream,” she pouted, laying her head down on your lap and started to hum a familiar tune. You gently traced her collarbone, reveling in the way the vibrations of her throat sent a tingle throughout your whole body.

“...Am I not romantic enough?” You frowned.

She opened her eyes to meet your pleading ones.

“I’m just teasing, silly.” She flicked your nose, smiling gently. “Everything you do is romantic to me.”

You cringed, but could feel the blooming warmth in your chest.)

You especially loved the drives in between.

(“You know,” Danielle was playing Flow Free, her latest obsession. “You never really told me why you chose law.”

“It’s nothing interesting,” you said, glaring at a car that just cut you off. “I just didn’t know what to choose, and law seemed like something my parents would be satisfied with.”

“What about now?”

“What about now?” You repeated in confusion.

“If you had a chance to restart, would you still have chosen law?”

You pursed your lips in thought. “I don’t know. Probably not.”

“Music?” Danielle suggested with a smile. “Maybe in another life, I could’ve been a singer, and you could’ve written songs for me.”

You scoffed playfully. “Like you’d be good enough to be a singer.”

“Really now?” She smirked, a challenging look in her eyes. “I remember someone asking me to do the vocals for a song they wrote.”

You feigned ignorance. “Oh? And who would that be?”

“I don’t think you know her. She’s pretty cute, though.”

“Don’t tell me you’re cheating on me,” you tried to fight back a smile. “I’ll file a lawsuit against you.”

“With what money?”

“I don’t think God would appreciate you making fun of broke uni students.”)

You would finish each day at ungodly hours, when one of you was too exhausted to continue your musings and debates about random topics, falling asleep mid-conversation.

But you would wake up at seven in the morning the next day, without fail, to that stupid Madagascar song. You grew fond of it, eventually, when you associated it with Danielle’s giggles that would accompany it.

You couldn’t have asked for a better person to spend this time with. Despite your alleged ‘way with words’, you always had trouble finding the right words to express how you felt about her.

You always hated that about yourself, especially in these three days, the feelings bubbling inside of you left unspoken. You hoped Danielle knew just how much you loved her.

You never had to worry about her not loving you, however. She was just like before that day at the beach, still squeezing your hand, still smiling brightly, still asking how your day was.

(“You know what I’m gonna ask,” she smiled, standing outside the apartment door, looking as angelic as always.

“And you know what I’m gonna say,” you stepped closer, pulling her towards you by the waist. “Every day with you is a good day.”)

But the two of you knew that this would not last forever. You would see it in the way Danielle’s smile would suddenly waver, imperceptible to anyone else but you. You would see it when she would clutch onto you at night, tears staining your shirt when she thought you were asleep.

Danielle would see it when your step faltered for a split second, and your eyes would glaze over with that faraway look she once saw at the cat cafe. She would see it when you would hurriedly pull her along to the next destination, as if you could both run away from the fated 14th day.

Neither of you dared to speak about it out loud, choosing to just hold the other tighter when either of you remembered. You thought about what Danielle said to you at the beach. Your memories will be altered, as if I was never here.

Is it worse that you’ll never remember that she existed, or would it be worse if you remembered, but you would have to live with the fact that you’ll never see her again?

You were sure you’d always pick the latter, just as Danielle had chosen. She had left an indelible mark on you, and you would do anything to remember it.

Back then, you were too timid to stare at Danielle for more than a few seconds. But now, you find yourself constantly staring at her, wanting to capture every detail on her face and burn it in your memory. 

You would study her face when the two of you lazed around in bed, gently tracing from her jawline to the bridge of her nose, doing it until you felt like your fingers were molded to the shape of her.

You inwardly laughed at the irony of this whole situation. The reason why you made the 11:11 wish in the first place was because you couldn’t move on from grief and loss. And now you would have to deal with it all over again, in a slightly different way, because you won’t even remember who you’re losing this time.

God had a funny way of doing things.

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#newjeans x reader #newjeans fanfic #newjeans fic #danielle marsh x reader #mo jihye x reader

[cultofkakyoin]

Cavia Italiana: Esperimento del Diavolo

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A/N: Yo, does anyone remember when Cioccolata was all the rage in the Fandom? I wrote three fics for him, now here's a rewrite of a request (originally a commission but I didn't feel good enough to charge tbh) I got from a friend on discord back then, I didn't include all they wanted so now here it is! The Original is right here! And you can read it on Ao3 here!

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Relationship: Cioccolata/Reader, Brief Cioccolata/Secco

Content Warning!: Kidnapping, surgery, ear licking, rape, amputation, amputation fetishism, a bit of ableist language (Reader calls him crazy and stuff), torture.

Walking home in the middle of the night is not ideal, the cold hits your nose and cheeks, causing them to redden painfully, you pull the collar of your coat closer, trying to stay warm.

The darkness swallows your figure as you turn left down an alley, you swear you hear footsteps and stop in your tracks. Your heartbeat speeds up as you look around the alleyway.

No one.

You sigh, your breath turning into a fine mist in the cold air. You resume your walk home until you hear it again, you contemplate speeding up but can't get yourself to as the path in front of you is completely engulfed in darkness.

You look around again, but still nothing, you put your foot forward to continue your trek but a dog comes running at you, but wait...

That's not a dog.

It stops in front of you and you realize it's a man, he's sitting on all fours. You back up but your back hits something and a sharp pricking sensation hits your neck.

You grab the back of your neck where the pain was and start to stumble, everything begins to spin.

Your hand attempts to find something to stabilize yourself but before you do you fall to the ground catching a glimpse of someone in your eye, your head hits with a thud, and looking up the sky spins before it all goes black.

...

Cioccolata grins, crouching down beside his newly acquired pet. He pushes her bangs back to look at her face completely.

She's a pretty one, not that it matters to him but it didn't hurt to have a pretty thing to look at now and then.

Secco looks at him and Cioccolata nods, slipping the purse from her shoulder before letting the dog-man (man-dog?) Grab her wrists and drag her deadweight to her new forever home.

He riffles through her purse, getting a semblance of who she is before he gets sinks his claws in her.

Perfume, the bottle saying 'all natural scented with vanilla beans and coconut,' the 'doctor' (who has since had his medical license revoked) sprays it in the air, he lets it waft onto him as he walks through the mist, it does indeed smell like vanilla with a small hint of coconut, soft and sweet.

He decides that it might be useful in the future and stuffs it in his coat pocket.

The next item is obvious, something almost every woman has in her purse, sanitary products, pads, tampons, etc. Fairly normal, that's not proof the woman is menstruating at the moment.

Standard. It gives no real information. Useless. He tosses them on the ground.

Next, gloves. Cioccolata hums. They're simple knit gloves, thinner than the ones you'd see in colder areas of the world, fit for cold nights in the Mediterranean.

At first glance they're nice and well made but once he checks the brand, he can see they're in fact a cheap knock-off, the tag reads 'Pholli Phollie, 100 τοις εκατό μαλλί' He snickers, he's fairly sure the real 'Folli Follie' doesn't even manufacture gloves and he doubts the '100 percent wool' text.

Though they do make him wonder if she's been to Greece before. He tosses them in a trash can nearby, she won't be needing them anyway, plus he will settle for no less than the best for his pets.

Nail polish, Essie, an American nail polish brand.

It's a nice shade of holographic forest green, of course, she won't be needing it but he definitely will. He stores it in his pocket.

Her wallet is the next thing he pulls out. It's drab, a worn-out brown color and it's busted at the seams, she seems to have had it for a long time. Flipping it open he observes zero credit or debit cards, not all too surprising, people in Italy generally prefer cash to those.

Opening the pocket he finds no money either, he wonders if she's poor or low on cash. Next, he pulls out her ID, (Y/n) (L/n), (Height), (Weight), (E/c), (H/c), born in (year), (country).

Her photo has a small awkward smile, her upper lip slightly open to expose her front teeth, he can't help but stifle a laugh as he thinks she very much looks the role of a guinea Pig or perhaps a chipmunk or lab rat. He stuffs it in his pocket along with the nail polish.

The wallet is empty except for a photo, he sees her and various other people, some look like her but that could just be a coincidence.

Nevertheless, the photo portrays a happy woman surrounded by family and/or friends. His lips tug into a grin as he slides it from the plastic casing and tucks it into his other pocket, making sure not to bend or crack the printed paper.

He tosses the wallet like the rest of her belongings, he's leaving a sweet trail for someone to find.

The last thing in her purse is a Keychain, it's cute, having a little cartoon figure on, and a pocket knife. He nearly burst out in laughter.

Not so useful now, huh? He tosses it to the ground, she will never require any of that again. He throws the purse in the next trashcan he sees and finally, they make their way back to 'home.'

...

You wake up shivering violently, your bare back is against something freezing cold. It feels like metal, the room is pitch black, and there's not a window or even a small shine of light coming through the crack of a door, just pure darkness.

When you go to move your wrist you realize you've been restrained, attempting to move your legs gave the same result.

Dread washes over your entire body and your already frozen body shudders as your blood runs cold as you process the situation.

You take deep breaths, you've heard freaking out is bad in these kinds of situations, it always brings more trouble.

Well, that's what the media told you anyway, you choose to believe it and try not to completely break down in tears.

You tug at the restraints, which awards nothing, you attempt to twist your wrist but are met with pain as your bones slide a bit too much together, the cuff (that you gather is leather from feel) is on so snuggly you can't move it any which way, not back, not forth, not up, not down.

Even though you assume the answer you try the same with the ones wrapped around your ankles.

Yup, as expected, it's the same, the cuff is so tight you can barely feel your hands or feet and you can't at all feel your fingers or toes, you can move them but there's no feeling to be, well, felt, just a slow and stiff wiggle of the appendages.

You want to yell but refrain, you're scared- no- you're terrified of who might come running if they hear you scream. You try to remember what happened before you woke up but it proves to be harder than usual to recall your previous actions.

'Think (Y/n), think.'

But you can't, you don't even remember what happened after the afternoon you arrived at work. It's like there's a blank space where a memory should be, you know this couldn't have happened at work, sure it's a bit of a dangerous area and several of your coworkers sexually harass you but you don't see that happening during your shift.

Your head snaps to the side as you hear distant footsteps, they get louder with each step but soon they stop and you hear a lock click, the door opens slowly, the bright light hurts and you squeeze your eyes shut, you instinctively tug at the binds to cover your eyes.

"You're awake, good, good," a voice says, the light is so blinding you can't make out who it belongs to. "I was afraid I put you in a coma, see I didn't plan by weight and height" it adds, finally your eyes adjust just enough for you to see the owner of the voice.

It's a man, maybe in his 30s, with very odd hair and green markings on his face, you're not sure if it's makeup or tattoos, not that it matters at the moment.

He approaches you and reaches out to grab your face, you lean your head away from his hand but your neck can only stretch so far and he roughly grabs your jaw, turning your head side to side, examining you.

"You're a pretty one, my pet" his grip tightens and there's a grin creeping on his face. He leans down closer to you, putting his face near yours, fighting against his grasp is useless as he just gets closer, his breath stinks despite his very white teeth.

"Let go," you say through clenched teeth, attempting to pull your jaw from his hold. "Now, now, don't be like that" his voice is sweet but clearly taunting, he pecks your cheek and you feel his free hand creep down your bare body...

Wait, bare?! You're naked! That bastard undressed you, no wonder it's so cold.

His hand settles between your thighs and you violently fight the leather restraining your wrists and ankles.

"Stop it!" It's a pathetic scream, your throat feels painfully dry, and your voice cracks, you know you shouldn't be but you feel embarrassed at the sound.

"Aren't you just the cutest" he whispers in your before licking your ear, sticking his tongue inside.

Your eyes widen and you wince at the feeling of the slimy muscle twirl in your ear, leaving behind wet sticky saliva dribbling out of your ear.

Gross.

You nearly forgot about his hand until you feel his fingers rub between your labia. "What are you do-!" You're cut off by a moan as his fingers focus on your clit, you try to scooch away from his fingers but there's no give from the restraints, and you're stuck.

"So fidgety, are you nervous? There's no need to be, I'm a doctor, you know" your kidnapper assures you as one of his fingers circles your entrance. There's no way this nut is a doctor, right? A moan tears from your throat as he goes back to your clit.

"Please stop, just let me go" you beg, sweat starting to bead on your forehead, it goes cold in a near instant, maybe it's due to the low temperature of the room or maybe it's because of your blood running cold throughout your body.

"But why, you're so wet" he grins, once again snaking his tongue into your ear canal, practically fucking it, thrusting his tongue in and out, that cannot taste good.

Your breathing picks up and you fight harder against the cuffs. "Let me go!" All your captor does is laugh "I love it when they struggle... Secco, are you getting this?" His eyes cast up for a second to look at something.

Who is he talking to?

You stop struggling to look where the green-haired man was looking.

Oh, God.

You can barely make it out but you see the flashing red light of a camera and a wide lilac eye staring intently at you, pointing the camera at you and panting heavily, you wonder how you never noticed them, the eye stares right back at you and your already heavy breathing picks up even more.

Snapping you away from the cameraman the 'doctor' inserts one finger inside of your cunt. "Take it out, you-you-" the room starts to spin and you can't finish your sentence before everything goes back.

Cioccolata sighs, pulling his finger out of your sex and rubs his temples, not caring about the wetness that still clings to his finger. "Disappointing, we'll have to work on that, won't we?" He asks your unconscious body.

He beckons Secco towards him "finish me off and I'll give you candy, would you like that?" He bribes the dog-like man, who happily nods and begins to unbutton Cioccolata's pants.

He grabs the nitrous oxide mask, it's not the only anesthetic he'll be using but it'll keep you calm until he's finished. He secures the mask behind your head, he turns on the gas as Secco begins taking his hard length into his mouth.

...

Groggily waking up to the worst pain in your life, your eyes snap open and you scream, to the average person it's blood-curdling, to your captor it's sweet, sweet music. You're met with a bright light pointing at you, and all of your limbs hurt. You're unable to see past the light but you hear the sound of a saw.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

You're far too confused to make out what's happening in the moment. You thrash "stop that!" Someone reprimands you, looking towards the voice you see your kidnapper, and your heart sinks into your stomach as you see he's covered in blood.

Your eyes won't focus and they dart from his face to his moving arm, grating, back to his face then down to his hand. You're breathing goes erratic as you see what's making that horrid sound, he's sawing through your arm, and your breathing slows down as you breathe in more of the gas.

"As much as I love your screaming, I can't have you freaking out once I get to your legs." He stops, setting the bone saw down with a clink, he grabs something else, a syringe.

Uncapping said syringe he grabs plastic tubing, you follow the tube, and it leads to what remains of your arm, he pierces the tube and soon your surroundings begin to fade around you.

You relax and don't react as he resumes his actions. Your thoughts slow and soon you're knocked out once again.

...

You groan as you awake, grunting as you attempt to readjust to a more comfortable position but soon come to realize you're on a hard and rough textured surface.

Slowly you open your blurry eye, you reach up to rub them clear but your hands don't reach them, blinking rapidly the blur subsides and you look around.

Your body goes numb as your met with the sight of your extended biceps, lacking something, most notably your forearms and hands, bandages cover the leftover stumps, you're not bleeding though blood stains the white wrap.

You open your mouth to scream but immediately start violently coughing, throat so dry you can't make a sound.

You turn to your side, struggling as you try to lift yourself, however, you're met with horrible pain shooting through your limbs.

You stop, trying to control your breathing and calm down, the memories of what happened come back, you're kidnapped, and you remember being taunted by some green-haired loon who assaulted you, and then there's a gap in what happened after that.

The pain filling your body is intense and you want to cry but nothing comes out of your eyes even though you feel like you're crying, your breath even hitches as if you were sobbing. 'Calm down, (Y/n), access the situation' you tell yourself, looking around the place, you see you're in a windowless small room, decorating the walls are covered in floral wallpaper, it reminds you of a grandmother's house.

There's a bed in the opposite corner of the room, it's bland and all-white but immaculately clean. There's a small side table with a vase full of pink lillies and baby's breath, and across from the bed is a wooden door, you just need to get out then you can...

That's right, no hands to turn the knob. Everything about the room reminds you of a nursing home, bland as if not to excite too much.

You did notice the wire that sits in front of you, thin black metal bars locking you in, they surround you entirely. It reminds you of...

Oh my God! You're in a dog cage.

No fucking way.

You physically shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to wake yourself up, but when your eyes open nothing has changed.

There's no way someone was sick enough to put you in a dog cage. Then again, you remember you're missing parts of your arms.

Forcing yourself to turn back on your back you land with a thud and the cage rattles as it hits the wall. Looking down you see the door to the cage, just as you thought, it's exactly like a dog cage.

That's when you notice your legs... Just like your arms.

"No, no, no, nononononono" you keep repeating over and over again, the focus you previously had over your breathing halts and dissipates, replaced with pure fear.

Everything below your thigh is gone, leaving just your plush thighs wrapped up tightly with a bandage much like your arms.

You keep repeating 'no' over and over again, your arms reach up to cover your eyes with your hands, and of course, nothing reaches them.

This only makes things worse, even though you're hyperventilating and sobbing, no fluid comes out of your eyes, mouth, or nose, everything is bone dry.

You jump as the door clicks open, freezing you see the green-haired man. He's taller than you thought, he casually strolls in, closing the door behind him gently.

His eyes meet yours and he grins, as he waltzes towards you scoot as close to the wall as you can, fresh wounds press up against the metal bars but the pain is less intense than the fear you're feeling at the moment.

"Don't hurt yourself now" he says, placing a hand on the top of the cage he crouches down. He sticks a finger through the bars, wiggling it like your a fish in the tank and he's a nosy kid.

"How are you feeling, guinea pig?"

Guinea pig? There is no way he just called you that...

"No need to be afraid, it's all right" he's not sincere at all, you know he's enjoying it, the tent in his pants gives that away.

His erection strains against the white fabric of his pants, it's already leaking precum that leaves a wet spot on his crotch.

You turn your head away and try to avoid his gaze that flickers from your face to your arms and chest, then your bottom half.

You're still naked, body laid out bare for his wandering eyes, his tongue peeks out to lick his green lips.

"Are you thirsty? You lost a lot of fluids" you don't answer, no matter how dry your throat and mouth are. He chuckles "it's okay, I know you are, that's why I brought you some water" that catches your attention.

He pulls out a water bottle, not a normal one... No, one like the ones small rodents are given to drink from.

You bite your lip as he secures it against the wire "go ahead" he encourages, it takes a while before you shimmy closer to the water bottle but it hangs just out of reach.

This is so humiliating.

You force your head to lift, but still, you barely reach the spout, tongue poking out the tip rolls over the metal ball, only giving you a drop of much-needed water.

One, two, three more kitten licks before your head falls back down, and your neck aches painfully.

"Please..." It's pathetic, your voice wavers, tone barely reaching a whisper. Your captor laughs "come on, cavia, you can do it" he's taunting you again "I can-can't, please" it physically pains you to speak. You hate begging but you see no other option.

Sadly, it doesn't work, he reaches a finger through the bars and strokes the metal ball, water drips down making the thirst you feel even more intense.

You once again lift your head, this time attempting to sit up part way, the pain in your thighs extends to your lower half, it feels impossible to bend at the waist as it just brings stinging pain.

There's only one choice, you prop yourself up on the stubs he left behind. The pain is unbearable but you have to fight through it.

It feels like forever for you to reach the spout once again, when you do you wrap your lips around the metal and suck.

Water comes out but not enough, so you run your tongue up the metal ball, releasing more of the water you crave.

You drink as much as you can before you fall back down, thankfully it's enough water for now, it's not ideal but you can't get anymore.

"Oh no, you're bleeding" despite the 'oh no' he has no concern, he seems quite giddy in fact.

You eye the stub, it is indeed bleeding, once you notice it that's when the pain sets in and you bite your lip. "Don't worry, my cavia, I'll take care of you" he coos, standing up he makes his way to the cage door, sliding the locks out of place.

The door opens smoothly and his hands reach in, grasping your hips. He slowly slides you out of the cage, you don't fight it, happy to be free from the constricting wire box.

He's careful not to knick your aching limbs against the sides of the exit.

Once you're free, he takes you in his arms, holding you like a baby "do you see how light you are without all that baggage?" Right, arms and legs are baggage, totally.

You nearly roll your eyes.

He walks you to the bed, setting you down with surprising care. He opens the side tables drawer and pulls out scissors, alcohol, cotton balls, and bandages.

"Let's fix you up" he grabs your bicep and unravels the sullied bandage, the stump is now visible to you, the skin is sewn shut, fresh blood leaks through the thin line in small droplets, the skin is irritated, hot, and painful, a light pinkish color.

Taking the cap off the alcohol he tips it onto a cotton ball "it's not hospital quality but I find it works just the same" he sits next to you, hand wrapping around the remains of your arm, and dabs the cotton ball against the closed flesh. He's gentle but it burns "I know" he croons with condescension "it hurts, doesn't it?"

He can't stop a cruel smile from tugging on the corners of his mouth as he watches your bottom lip quivers.

"You're being such a good girl, you make your master so happy" he praises, laying your arm back down to retrieve the bandages.

He's slow about wrapping the bandage around your arm, he purposefully wraps it too tight, not tight enough to cut off circulation just enough to be uncomfortable.

He does the same for each of your stumps, your legs hurt the most. You gag as the cotton ball meets the closed wound, since your stomach lacks any contents besides its natural acid nothing comes out, but it does burn your chest as the acid tries to escape.

He pays you no mind and continues cleaning and wrapping your thigh before moving on and doing the same to your other thigh.

Finished, he pats your leg, getting up he puts his supplies back in the drawer and closes it. "You did so well" he reaches a hand out to pat your head but you dodge it.

This clearly upsets the man "you'll come to enjoy my touch, I promise... It'll just take more training."

Training... It unsettled you, what exactly does he have in mind?

As if to answer your inner question, your captor reaches into his pocket, he pulls out... Oh God... A vibrator. You look away, your body begins to shake and tears are finally able to wet your eyes. "Don't cry, cavia, master will take care of you, he'll make you very happy" he reassures, bed dipping as he settles above you.

Laying a hand on your thigh he spreads it open, exposing your bare pussy. "Please don't" you beg, he shushes you, petting your head "master promises you'll love this" he brings the small vibrator to your labia, a click of a button turns it on and he teases it against your slit.

He revels the way you shiver and suppress your little mewls of pleasure and squirm, unable to do anything else. You're completely at his mercy, which he has none.

Wetness gathers despite how much you wish it didn't. He runs the tip of the vibe up and down your labia until they swell with desire, begging for more whether you like it or not.

With your growing wetness he slips it between the plump flesh right against your clit and he couldn't have hoped for a better reaction.

It feels so good, you moan and wiggle your hips, trying to get away from it. Pressing harder he watches your thighs stretch as your back arches into the toy. "Please no" your face scrunches up, tears falling down your hot cheek and snot leaking from your nose.

"You can take it, can't you? Yeah, you can because you're a good girl for your master, aren't you?" His hand finds your breasts, rubbing and pinching your nipple.

It feels so good, too good, you can't, your hips thrust against the vibrator, desperate to climax. "Stop" you mumble through your sobs and humiliating moans.

The man licks his lips "you don't want that, do you? You're so wet and eager, you know your place beneath your master" God, was he ever going to shut up? It seems he always has fake praise to sing in your ears.

You rapidly shake your head "nonononono" your close, and you can feel it building up about to release just as he pulls the vibrating toy away. Your abdomen twitches and your hips thrust forward, begging for more.

"That's it, good girl" he leans over, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. His hand rests on your chest, feeling it rapidly rise and fall under his palm.

He moves to kiss your tears away, leaving smudged green lipstick all over your face.

He sets the wet toy on the side table, his fingers rub your flushed cunt before sinking two of them in with ease. Your walls tighten, hips pressing firmly against his hand, and you moan loudly, walls clenching and unclenching around the digits.

"Such an eager thing you are" his fingers thrust very lightly, never actually leaving your wet heat. Your back arches and your thighs press down against his hand "stop" it's so useless to beg, you know but there's nothing else you can do, there's not even a chance of running away.

Even though you want it to stop you can't help the rock of your hips against his hand, burying half of your face in the pillow as you moan and sob, squeezing your eyes shut.

His fingers curl and the moan you let out nearly makes him spill into his pants. He bites his lips, green lipstick smearing in his teeth "such a good girl for her master" it's low and breathless, his own hips faintly thrust against nothing, craving the wet heat between your amputated thighs.

He's able to slip his thumb through your tight thighs and rubs your swollen clit, you shake against his hand and finally, you're given your release, walls tighten like a vice around his finger, legs squeezing tight enough to bruise his slick hand.

You relax once it's over, thighs letting go of his aching hand. His fingers curl once again, and his thumb lightly teases your overstimulated clit, you cry and kick your thighs up, trying to get his fingers away from your sensitive cunt.

"Come one, give me another, I know you can do it" he encourages you but you shake your head "no, please, I can't, please," You say like a prayer, snot bubbling from your inflamed nostrils as you beg.

He doesn't listen, of course. How could he when you're just so sensitive and adorable?

It takes only a few more curls of his fingers and rub of your clit to push you over the edge again, you're panting like an animal when it's over.

Your mutilated body glistens with a thick sheen of sweat, Cioccolata can practically smell the salt coming off you. The bandages he just put on are disgustingly wet, you hate it, it feels like when you sweat through your t-shirt while running, clinging to your skin, the sweat is starting to seep into the suture wounds and burns terribly.

He kisses your sweaty chest, hand leaving the sticky valley between your legs to grab your breast and put the nipple into his mouth. Sucking and biting the bud until swollen and hot, irritated by the harsh treatment.

He pulls his lips off but traps your nipple between his teeth, tugging it until you cry out and beg him to let go, chanting 'please,' 'stop,' and 'It's just too much.' Satisfied, he sits up, rubbing your slick sides "you were such a good girl for me" he kisses your cheek again.

It makes your feel weird, he's almost loving, too high from your two consecutive orgasms you nuzzle against his face, earning a chuckle.

He brushes his nose against yours in a so-called 'Eskimo kiss' it's sweet and very sickening. Cioccolata stands, leaving you cold and lathered in sweat, the sheets below you are soaked with sweat, sticking to your back.

Your body relaxes and you're so tired you nearly fall asleep until you feel your thighs parted and something gets pushed past your puffy labia inside of your spent cunt.

You tense, mumbling a chorus of pleads, begging him not to, they are answered with the vibrator turning on, and your walls try to push it out "please, no more! I can't!" Cioccolata audibly moans at your whining, cock painfully hard at this point.

Reaching his hand into his pocket he retrieves the other toys he brought you. Nipple clamps, with an added ball and chain, your eyes widen, you've never had anything clamped on your nipple before, they intimidate you.

Cioccolata sees your scared expression and laughs "they don't weigh much, really" he's not lying but he abused your poor nipples for a reason, nipples are sensitive and the added weight is sure to feel great, wanting to or not.

He squeezes your breast so he can attach the weight without your squirming interfering.

Clasping the first one to your nipple you are met with pain, the metal is cold and presses hard into the bitten bud, it felt like a piercing in the tender flesh.

Letting go of your breast he admires the way your breast is pulled thanks to the attached weight, Cioccolata repeats the same on the other nipple.

He hastily works on his belt and fly, sighing as his drooling cock is finally free from its fabric prison. Wrapping a hand around his throbbing length he runs his thumb across the flushed and leaking tip.

"Fuck, you look so pathetic, you're amazing" he moans out, teasing his aching cock. He watches you writhe under him, cunt soaking the white sheets below along with your sweat, the thick clear liquid of your arousal stains your thighs and labia.

"You're gonna-ah need a bath after this, hu-huh? That's okay, heh, I'll make sure you're- oh fuck- nice and squeaky clean~" he nearly falls on top of you as he pumps his cock, lubing it up with his copious precum, he stabilizes himself with a hand on your other side, knuckles going white as he grips the wet sheets.

"Fuck, I'm close" he moans, hand speeding up, he resists the urge to close his eyes so he can watch as your thighs open and close, the stumps that were once arms stiffening and back arching, breasts swaying with each desperate wiggle, the weights tugging painfully, your nipples puffy as they swell from the abuse.

"I really made the right choice with you" his pace can't get any quicker and his hips try to compensate by bucking into his warm hand.

"Yes, yes, yes, oh Dio, yes!" His voice strains and cum spurts out, sticky ropes hitting the sheet and your torso.

He can't stop himself from thrusting through his orgasm, to prevent himself from falling on top of you he rests a knee on the edge of the bed, stroking soft cock a few more times before finally letting go of his flaccid length.

You on the other hand can't escape the constant stimulation, you are so tired and the pulsing in your sore cunt "please, turn it off!" Your voice is hoarse and you can barely speak through your broken moans.

The man above you pants, eyes half-lidded, his mouth hung open lipstick smeared past his lips from the constant biting and kissing, staining his pearly teeth.

"You're truly amazing" Cioccolata mewls "I've never come so hard in my life, not even with Secco" he admits, relaxing as he drags himself onto the bed, sliding next to you and draping his arm over your shoulders to pull you closer.

He presses his face into your neck, pulling your body flush against his, soft cock still sensitive and pressing against the bandages that cover the sutures on your thigh.

It would hurt if you could focus on it, however, your brain is struggling to understand anything but the painful pleasure he's forcing you to endure.

Cioccolata inhales sharply, taking in your scent, a normal person would be disgusted, you frankly smell ripe and rank, but to Cioccolata it's the most amazing scent in the world, it's like a pheromone to him, he enjoys the fact it's so strong he can taste it on his tongue.

The way he holds you puts pressure on your arm, his firm body trapping the stub between bodies. Your thighs spread and Cioccolata uses that space to slot his leg between yours, keeping your drenched thighs apart and pushing his knee against your cunt, pushing the toy deeper until it hits your cervix.

You use his knee to grind your clit against it, desperate for real pleasure, sick of the teasing of the vibrator. His white pants soak up all the slickness that you rub against them, nearly turning translucent.

"I'm so glad I found you, cavia" he sounds lovestruck, or maybe loved love-drunk is a better term. You see this as an opportunity "please-" you don't finish as he presses his knee harder into your swollen clit, a high pitched moan leaves your lips, and the man who kidnapped you kisses your shoulder "please- heh- take it out- ah" you're barely able to finish a sentence, overcome with the constant stimulation. Cioccolata pulls you even closer "not yet, hold out a little longer" he reaches his hand down to replace his knee on your clit.

Shaking your head you try to tell him you can't take anymore (not that he'd listen) but your voice is caught in your throat as his fingers work you to orgasm.

You struggle to control yourself as you cum again, babbling out pleas for his to stop, you sob and writhe against him. After that you still, the toy still vibrates inside you and your captor's fingers still work your tender clit to the point of rubbing you raw.

"That's it, you're such a good girl" he lavishes you with praise, kissing whatever part of skin he can, you can't move anymore, you're so tired you feel like passing out, you can't even ask him to take it out as your eyelids grow heavy.

He smiles as he sees you fall into slumber, he doesn't remove the toy inside of you, he knows how to break people and pleasure is one way.

Apparently, it works on him too, he's pretty sure he's in love with you. You're his perfect creation, you can never leave him, and with more time you'll never want to leave him.

#dead dove do not eat #reader insert #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #cioccolata x reader #cioccolata

[bellafragolina]

Counting shoulders is such a smooth move! Can I ask what you would think of Ingo and Emmet with a S/o who likes to just fluster them with sweetness.

Thanks! I pull it on any and everybody, and they always laugh, lolol. It's fun <3

🍓🍓🍓

Ingo:

"Hey, handsome." You greet your boyfriend. Ingo glances up from his book, eyes sparkling when they meet yours. You almost feel bad for what's about to transpire. Almost. "Is this seat taken?"

You point to his lap. Ingo follows your point, gears turning in his head, then snaps his gaze back up to you. The pink to his cheeks makes you giggle.

"Er," Ingo clears his throat, then shakes his head, "no. Not for you." He moves his book so you can happily settle into his lap, then wraps his arms around your waist. He kisses your forehead. "Hello, my love."

"What's it like?" You ask him. He's not sure what you mean, his brows furrowing with his confusion. You snuggle closer to his chest. "Being the most beautiful person in the world? You must've had your license revoked for driving all the girls crazy."

Ingo squeaks your name, blush spreading up to his ears. He reaches to tug his cap over his eyes, but he's not wearing it, so he settles for hiding his face with his hand. "M-my dear! Please!"

You snicker. "Aw, come on, Ingo. It's a valid question!"

Ingo grumbles, setting his book aside. There's no chance that he's going to be able to focus on it now. He hugs you instead, burying his face in your neck with a sigh. "I don't particularly care what anyone else thinks. Yours is the only opinion that matters."

You giggle, running a hand through his hair. "Then I'll ask again: what's it like, being the most beautiful person in the world?"

A smile blooms against your neck. "I would have to refer to my partner for an answer to that." The smile grows larger as you guffaw and pepper his head in kisses. Yes, you truly are the most beautiful thing in this world.

Emmet:

"My darrrrrrling!" Emmet sings, bursting into your shared apartment. He grins at the quick thuds of your footsteps, dropping his briefcase and opening his arms up for your flung embrace. He swings you side to side, happily breathing you in. "I'm home!"

"You're back." You sigh, and his heart skips a beat, hearing you so content. Emmet sets you down for his 'welcome home' kiss, then lets you drag him over to the living room couch. The smell of the takeout you ordered hits him, and he sighs happily. "I got us your favorite."

"I love you." Emmet says, matter o' fact, as you both sit down. You don't grab the food, though, instead you slide into his lap and pepper his face in kisses. "Heheh, my cute darling."

"My handsome husband." You coo, moving to his jaw. Emmet's grin just widens further. "My strong, hardworking breadwinner. The best damn trainer in the region. My love, my everything."

Emmet melts into the back of the couch, cooing. "Honey!~"

"Did you know," you whisper to him, pressed into his side, "that you are the love of my life? The reason I get up in the morning?" Emmet mumbles something you can't hear, sounding lovestruck. Good. "Did you know that you are the most handsome man in existence?"

"Please." Emmet murmurs. Your nose brushes his cheek, feeling how hot it is. You can see the red flush on the tip of his ear too, deepening when you blow on it. He giggles, tensing at the possible tickle attack.

"You're also a wonderful Pokémon dad." You continue. "And all your Pokémon adore you, almost as much as I do."

Emmet groans, overheated from your praise. It's going to be a long night.

🍓🍓🍓

I would praise the boys until the cows come home. Count shoulders and give them the smolder. lolol

Have a great night, love!

~Renee

#ingo x reader #emmet x reader #submas x reader #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader

[isfjmel-phleg]

Who is Amarantha?

Today, October 4, is my OC Amarantha's birthday.

Bio

Amarantha Margeth Melbray is the daughter of Levico (L. D.) Melbray, author of the popular Morrick Hopeley detective stories, and his wife Edmara, nurse to King Talfrin's son, Elystan. The nature of Edmara's job makes it difficult for her to be at home consistently, so Amarantha has been raised primarily by her father. She developed an interest in art at an early age and has been encouraged to cultivate this talent. Her greatest aspiration is to become a famous artist, specializing in portraiture, and she is given a chance to work toward that future when her mother's employer, Queen Bethira, grants her a scholarship to a distinguished girls' school for the arts.

Upon arriving at this school, however, Amarantha learns that her scholarship has been suddenly and unexpectedly revoked. With nowhere else to go while her father is on a lecture tour, she joins her mother at the palace, where she reencounters her old nemesis Elystan. Amarantha has for a long time been deeply jealous of the boy who monopolizes her mother's attention and affection, and their meeting doesn't go well--she ends up slapping him and incurs the wrath of his mother. That night, Amarantha's mother wakes her up and hurries them onto a train, but she vanishes before she can explain, and Amarantha wakes up in a remote moated castle, lost, confused, and trapped. But she's not alone--Elystan's there too! Can she find answers about what happened and find a way out? Is Elystan worth joining forces with in this adventure? Is there any hope for her scholarship now that she's offended the royal family?

Why I Love Her

This child is intense. Everything is Serious Business, especially art. She has one plan for her life, it's her glorious purpose, and she has no backup plans. At age twelve, she's already got Opinions about what portraiture should and shouldn't be. She's constantly struggling with reality's failure to live up to her grandiose expectations. She's trying so hard to win her mother's attention back (maybe if I accomplish something impressive enough, maybe if I'm accommodating enough, maybe if I'm responsible and undemanding enough...) but she feels as if she can never get more than crumbs, and she's deeply resentful beneath the compliance. She's a judgmental, jealous, petty jerk who thinks she knows and understands other people far more than she actually does--but also a naïve child who hasn't lost her sense of wonder and tendency to get caught up in fancifulness. She needs friends. She's going to get friends. She needs growth. She's going to get that too.

Description

Visitors to the Melbray parlor who encountered Amarantha seated silently on the sofa, her hands folded, typically received the impression that she was a quiet, mannerly child. It usually took a while before they noticed her peering at them with prominent brown eyes like an insect who had weighed them in the balance and found them wanting. The bow at the base of the brown braid wrapped around her head sprung from the back of her neck like a pair of wings. Her round face and small nose and mouth gave her an otherwise doll-like countenance, but nothing could soften the intensity of that gaze.

Further Info

There are lists of random OC facts for her here and here. These are somewhat old lists, created when I was still trying to more fully develop the character, and I might need to revisit/rethink them, but you get the idea.

Appearances

Prequel scene for Book 2

Short dialogue between Amarantha and her father (before Book 2)

Revised Book 2 Chapter One

Early Morning Tea (set immediately after Book 2 Chapter One)

Revised Book 2 Chapter Two

Revised Book 2 Chapter Three

Revised Book 2 Chapter Four

Revised Book 2 Chapter Five

Revised Book 2 Chapter Six

Picnic in the Clock Tower (later in Book 2)

Tell Me Where You Live (sketch)

Speaking to a Housemaid (sometime in Book 3)

Portrait of the Monarch as a Young Woman (sometime in Book 4)

#The Blackberry Bushes #The Blackberry Bushes OC facts #Amarantha Melbray

[whumpy-daydreams]

Types of surgery

Masterlist

So... you want to know about surgery. Well buckle in folks because this is just the first in an eleven part series. Enough of the humour though let's get medical. I've split this into 'categories', or how soon do you need this; and 'specialties', or what needs fixing

Categories of surgery

Elective - this is planned ahead of time, and isn't very time sensitive. also the majority of surgeries

Expedited - not life threatening but should be done asap. Includes tendon and nerve injures, some minor bone fixes, some stents and eye stuff

Urgent - needs to be done within a few hours to prevent loss of function/life. Fixing badly broken bones, perforated bowels, eye injuries, D&C (dilation and curetting)

Emergency - needs to be done immediately with threat to life or organs/limbs. Haemorrhage (loads of bleeding internally or externally), burst appendix, ruptured cancers, emergency c-sections

This is not a complete list of surgeries, and amputation can be any of these categories

There may also be extra categories at different hospitals that specify actual times. Emergency c-sections have time limits, with the most urgent needing to be started within an hour.

Surgical Specialties

Breast - pretty obvious, it's boob surgery and it's harder than you think (part of general surgery)

Cardiothoracic - treats the heart, lungs and airway, usually long surgeries with lots of equipment

Ear, nose, throat (ENT) - think tonsils, think deviated septum. I hate it. It smells bad.

Endocrine - if it's got gland in the name you're good. Think thyroid, pancreas, adrenal etc. (part of general surgery)

Gastrointestinal - deals with the stomach, intestines, colon, and rectum (part of general surgery)

Gynecology and obstetrics - treats the uterus and related reproductive organs (no penises here sorry). It can smell a little bad but not as bad as ENT

Neurosurgery - zombies love it but they got their medical licence revoked. Yep it's brain time baby (and the spinal cord but who cares about that). Known for being difficult and long

Oral and maxillofacial (maxfax) - mouth and face (not to be confused with plastic surgery, though they get involved), bones, teeth and soft tissue of the face as long as it's not ear, nose or throat.

Other general stuff - kidneys, liver, pancreas, gallbladder and random things in the abdomen

Plastic - reconstructing things. It's not always cosmetic, they make a big difference to trauma patients and also do cleft palate. Absolute perfectionists so prepare to be there for ages

Trauma and orthopaedic - bones and joints like fixing broken bones, carpal tunnels, and joint replacements. This is my favourite speciality because I think the surgeons are funnier and I like hammers

Urology - all the penises! And testicles and related reproductive system. Usually amab patients but they do treat afab patients too - everyone has a bladder

Vascular - blood tubes and lymphatic system (don't ask me to explain it please I beg you), can be really long surgeries and is usually done under a microscope

And I'm done (for now)

#brief guide to surgery #writers of tumblr #whump #surgery #tw surgery

[betbeton]

𓆸 Enjoy Yourself

Various Haikyuu × Reader

Warnings - Various 'vanilla' kinks

18 + Minors and Ageless accounts DNI

· GN Reader ·

· A/N - just finished reading attack on titan and i have so many ideas for some works, for now though yet again more haikyuu ·

・❥・ Masterlist

⪧ Oikawa Tooru

Cum Eating & Cum Play

There is something about seeing your face smeared with his gooey cum that scratches the hard to reach itch at the back of his brain. He enjoys it to the point he will stuff his head between your thighs and absolutely devour your arousal to hopefully entice you into letting him cum all over your cute face. Oikawa will melt inside if you allow him to take his cock and smear the cum around on your face, he will be mindful of your eyes and nose though. After all can't have you revoking his cum play privileges because he got nut up your nose or in an eye. He would never admit it since he doesn't swallow cum if he is the one going down on a partner, he will move up and spit it into their own mouth, but he is an absolute whore for you when you gaze up at his fucked out face and gulp down his cum. He knows it isn't the most pleasant experience despite him having a good diet so he would make sure to have a glass of water within reaching distance if you tell him your plan to indulge his cum eating kink beforehand.

⪧ Iwaizumi Hajime

Manhandling & Body Worship

He is aware to the fact his physical appearance is a turn on for you, after all he is just as needy for your praise over his body as he is for lavishing that same praise onto you. He fell in love with all of you which means if you ever express insecurity over your appearance to him, his go to outside of an intimate setting is to sit you down and lay out everything he adores about you. In an intimate setting though he makes sure to manhandle you while leaving bite marks across your skin to punctuate each praise that leaves his lips. Though he doesn't necessarily have any reoccurring insecurities over his appearance, it does warm his heart and light a fire in his stomach whenever you trail affection across his body while doing down on him. A light kiss to the head of his cock, a harsh nip to his chest, even something as simple as calling him pretty, or handsome can have his innocent thoughts turning raunchy in a matter of seconds. He hands down favourite thing to do during intimate moments though is to manhandle you into odd positions beneath his body while he relentless ruts into your warm hole.

⪧ Tendou Satori

Foot Fetish & Stockings

No matter his partner's gender seeing their legs snuggly encompassed by a pair of sheer stockings is enough to have him on edge and lightly rocking his hips to gain any sort of friction from his underwear. Couple a nice smooth pair of stockings with you pressing your foot against his straining cock and it is almost enough to have him leaking cum like you had edged him for an extended amount of time. He doesn't ask for you to indulge his fetish often since he knows how people perceive it from an outside perspective, but if you are open to it he would be open for it anytime and mostly anyplace semi-public areas included. If you aren't open to the idea, Tendou would make a joke of his question. Stating that he is more of a thigh guy anyways, he just wanted to see your reaction. He won't pursue the matter again unless you bring it up then he would try to dance around the question to gauge if you are testing him in some weird way, or if you're going to poke lighthearted fun at the kink. He would jump at the opportunity to fuck your feet while you're wearing stockings if you offered it though, with not a hint of shame behind his eyes or actions just borderline feral humping as he lavished praise your way.

⪧ Miya Osamu

Food Play & Biting/Oral Fixation

Osamu knew right away the first time you two were intimate that he wanted to eat anything and everything off your body. He would even prepare the food on your body if you allowed him to. His favourite thing to eat off of your body is rice oddly enough, it was a complete accident the first time it had happened. You had dropped the rice scoop while serving dinner and some rice had ended up stuck to your neck and collar bone. Without even thinking Osamu bent down to lick and suck the pieces off of your skin, he only stopped when your laughter at his behaviour reached his ears. Scoffing he turned back to his previous activities to avoid your lighthearted teasing. That moment had sparked something in him though as the next time you two planned an evening to enjoy some light food play during sex he had busted out a bowl of seasoned rice he had made earlier. Gently placing it on your stomach before leaning down to eat it off of your body. It had been humorous the first few times, but somewhere down the line when he had begun involving his oral fixation around bitting you it had become a genuinely shared kink. Now everytime he eats a meal off your body you are sure to include rice and other similar dishes so he has an excuse to nip and suck at your skin.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #tendou satori x reader #tendou x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #Miya Osamu x reader #Osamu x reader #haikyuu drabbles

[altheasmeadow]

Eros' Blessing

Word Count: 757

Summary: In which he falls for a mortal, and bends the rules too much to be able to have her.

Warnings: mentions of toxic relationships, I think that's all, also it’s not my favorite story but I needed a draft to post

Taehyun wished he could shoot himself. Not in a death way of course, he just wishes he as a cupid weren’t immune to the powers of a cupid. He watched her from afar, breaking her heart further and further hoping one day he’d be able to be by her side. It was far from intentional in the beginning, he was sent to help her find love, but as he watched her he fell harder and harder. From the way she punched a man for taking an upskirt picture of her friend to the way she would crinkle her nose anytime she was excited as well as little foot stomps to keep her excitement at bay. He fell so hard he lost sight of his job, every blind date suddenly falling for the first person to walk by, all of the old friends finding other interests before the date could even happen.

And he was the cause, cause for him, she was it. And as a man of love he decided he needed to act upon these feelings, and quickly. Who knew what would happen if Eros found out before he had a set plan.

“Hi! I’m Taehyun, your new neighbor.” He greeted coming across her casually in the apartment building in which she resided.

“Ah that’s strange, I swear Hanbin lived there just yesterday.” She hummed with a confused look, not understanding how the man could up and disappear. Taehyun would’ve loved to share that Hanbin had flown to America as he had suddenly found the love of his life yesterday in the park, but he couldn’t share that information.

She shrugged it off and greeted him politely, inviting him over for dinner like she had the previous residents, within a few weeks he almost had her where he wanted her. In love with him, sure giving her an arrow crossed his mind, that was the original plan, but he felt this warm feeling everytime she didn something for him just out of genuine desire to get closer.

Just as he was about to get her as his, he was portalled away, unwillingly of coure making him huff and pout. “Of course you would wait til I finally got what I desire to pull me here.”

“You’ve made a great mistake Taehyun.” Eros said sternly, making Taehyun tilt his head at Aphrodite's son.

“How so?”

“You’ve broken the balance, our job as cupids is to make perfectly balanced couples a slow fall into romance. You’re never supposed to shoot so wrecklessly, look what you’ve done.” Eros scolded, waving his hand to summon a light in which he could watch the scenes play out. 

He watched as Hanbin, Her neighbor, was carried through a toxic relationship, the woman manipulating the love he enchanted on the man to help herself. The next scene was similar, a woman cheating on a man who still smiled at her through teary eyes. He frowned, how could he have done this? Was he that blinded?

“I like you Taehyun, you’re like a son to me.” Eros said, deciding the cupid had seen enough, making the vision dissolve, “I also know of your issue, which is why I’ve decided to revoke you of your cupid status.”

Before Taehyun could protest another cupid appeared, Yeonjun smiled sadly down at Taehyun, before turning to Eros for his assignment

“Fix the relationships that Taehyun enchanted recently. Spread the word to the others that these two are not to be touched by arrows. He wanted love, he’s going to earn it.” Eros ordered, earning a determined nod from Yeonjun.

A blanket of bliss took over as suddenly he was back in his apartment next door to his beloved, he could tell he no longer held the cupid magic, and honestly, he didn’t mind it. But he couldn’t dwell much, he needed to plan the perfect date to ask her out. So He hopped out of bed and began hurrying around to figure out the best way to confess.

And a few weeks later, Yeonjun and Eros stood above the two smiling proudly as they watched the two curl up in bed together during a harry potter movie marathon.

“You so slipped something to her to make this happen didn’t you?” Yeonjun grinned looking at the god before him.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” but the grin on his lips said otherwise, as he waved his hand allowing the vision to dissolve, bidding a final farewell to Taehyun, Eros was no longer needed in his life.

#txt au #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt x reader #kang taehyun #tommorrow x together #txt #taehyun imagines #taehyun scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop idol x reader #idol x reader #kpop #fanfic #kpop scenarioes #idol imagines

[kazemi-archive]

Fright Night

Pairing: Yamaguchi Tadashi x Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: language, a little physical violence—like one hit really

Summary: Tadashi was the resident scaredy cat of the group. Everyone knew it. He knew it. But he never wanted to be left out—especially not when his cute little crush was tagging along for the ride. But when Tsukki suggested they go to a haunted house…Tadashi was not prepared for what the night had in store.

Kinktober 2022 Day Ten FLUFF OF THE WEEK

Tadashi was the resident scaredy cat of the group. Easily shook and let out a squeak whenever someone would jump out at him. Everyone knew that he was easily scared. It became a game between the first years to scare him. He took it with a smile. Let out a jump, face paling and then he would relax and laugh about it with you. He knew that he was easily scared. He tried to avoid it. Would try to keep his guard up, avoiding scary movies and situations the best he could.

But not everyone in the group was so adverse to being scared. Tsukki was never scared, Tadashi was alway jealous of that. Kageyama could be scared, but it was usually just jump scares that got him. Not like the goosebumps that would come with a chill and crawl their way up Tadashi’s spine, raising the hair on his arms. Hinata seemed to like being scared. Enjoying the feeling of being on edge. That was the weirdest reaction Tadashi thought, the one he couldn’t understand the most. The wanting to be scared, not when the smallest thing could terrify him.

Yet, Tadashi hated to be left out. So he would make himself go to the horror movies that his friends wanted to go watch. If he thought he couldn’t handle it, he would blame it on the fact that he didn’t want to be the seventh wheel to them and their girlfriends. But there were always times he couldn’t use that excuse. And now, especially now, he refused to use that excuse. Because Tsukki had come up with the perfect plan to convince Tadashi to tag along.

Invite you.

You, who Tadashi had been quietly crushing on all three years of college. His face always heated up when he had to speak to you, tripping over his words easily. He’d never got the courage to ask you out but this year, Tsukki was determined to make the two of you end up together.

Tadashi was currently regretting every single life choice that had led him to this point. He was cursing his best friend and even contemplating revoking the title. He’d agreed to come the second he heard your name leave Tsukki’s lips, unbothered at the time about the smirk that immediately followed it.

He didn’t know he had just agreed to go to a haunted house.

That’s where he was currently. Stood outside at night. Staring at the dark building in front of him. The light on the front porch was flickering lightly, the windows lit up with a dimmed orange so that he knew the rooms themselves would be hard to see in. Cold wind nipped at his cheeks, he used it as an excuse to sink further into the scarf wrapped loosely around his neck.

In your opinion he looked adorable, knit beanie pulled low on his head so you could just see his grayish-green bangs peeking out from underneath and chin tucked into his scarf so that it covered his lips that he was no doubt working between his teeth right now. You could only really see the small strip of his face that held his nose, eyes and cheeks. His freckled cheeks were flushed pink from the cold and his eyes were carefully watching the smoke spill out of the front door and cover the lawn.

There was the sound of someone screaming inside and you watched as he involuntarily took a half step back, his eyes widening in fear. Tsukki was quick to bump him back into place, however, as he passed the two of you and walked with the rest of the group towards the door. You hung back with a small smile and tapped Tadashi’s shoulder. He jumped slightly and then immediately wore his embarrassment all over his face.

“Sorry, ‘Dashi.” You let out a soft giggle and Tadashi was sure that his heart exploded. He clenched his jaw, he could do this. For you. “Ready to go in?” He was hesitant in his nod of affirmation, stuttering out an agreement as he took a step forward. He walked slowly and you walked even with him, watching carefully the way that he twisted the bottom of his shirt into his hands as he walked. You felt bad that his friends were making him participate in this when he was clearly scared. You didn’t mind if you went to a movie or a diner instead, really only coming because of the promise to get alone time with Tadashi. “We don’t have to go in, ‘Dashi.”

His head snapped over to you with a look of shock and immediately found himself shaking his head. “No you,” he cleared his throat trying to rid it of the small squeak it held, “you want to go in right?”

“A little,” you admitted, “but-”

“I’ll be okay.” He whispered, pulling his chin up and squaring his shoulders, sending you a small smile as he started forward again.

His determination made you smile, a warm feeling flooding your chest. His hand was still twisting his shirt and you were hit with an idea. “Hey, ‘Dashi?” He turned to look at you again and you sent him a shy smile. “I get a little scared.” You started, watching his expression closely as you spoke. “Do you think I could hold your hand?” You watched as his cheeks turned a shade darker and he didn’t trust his voice as he offered you his hand. “Thank you.”

Tadashi hoped that you couldn’t hear how loud his heart was beating as it threatened to jump out of his chest and straight into your hands. He was suddenly worried that his hand was sweaty as you both walked through the front door, less terrified of what was lying ahead in the house and more so that you’d decide that maybe he was being weird. That feeling did not last long when another scream sounded through the house, much louder now that you were inside.

You felt terrible when you felt Tadashi tense up next to you. You sent him a small squeeze through your hands and caught his eyes flickering towards you as you both continued further into the house. It wasn’t too terrible at first, the darkened lights and the damp smell, the smoke filling the room. Flickering lights, and animatronics popping out of walls or dropping off the ceiling.

Poor Tadashi jumped at everything. You smiled at him though, trying desperately to not let you know just how scared he was. You could feel him shaking, his hand tensing unintentionally in yours as you walked. It wasn’t too bad for you yet, but you took the excuse to step closer to Tadashi, to take advantage of your new ability to press against him.

And then you rounded a corner and you encountered the first person working the house that wasn’t the one who you purchased tickets from at the front gate.

They wore a mask over their face, covered in blood splatters, similar to the tattered button up dress shirt that was half tucked into dirty jeans. There was a (definitely fake upon closer inspection) machete in his hand as he jumped towards you.

Both Tadashi and you had almost instant reactions, his coming just a split second after yours.

You screamed and jumped, squeezing his arm into you as you went to cower behind him.

Tadashi’s reaction came as an instinctual reaction to yours. And it was not what either of you expected.

The cracking sound of the mask processed before either you or Tadashi processed what he had done. Both of you stared at his hand in shock as he slowly lowered his quickly bruising fist.

“Oh my god.” Tadashi whispered, staring in horror at his hand as a laugh of disbelief bubbled out of you.

The man in front of you both dropped his fake weapon and pulled up his mask quickly, hand already coming up to cradle the sore spot now on his cheek. “Dude, what the fuck?” He groaned, dropping his character as he glared at the two of you. “Get out.”

“I’m so sorry, oh my gosh,” Tadashi rushed out quickly trying to step forward to apologize. “I’m so-”

“Do I need to call security?” The man asked, reaching for his walkie hidden under his shirt.

You raised one of your hands quickly, tugging Tadashi back. “No, no we’re sorry! We’re leaving!” You exclaimed, stepping back towards the entrance. “‘Dashi, c’mon, let’s go.” He made a noise of protest but followed you anyways, almost tripping as he turned fully. You and him weaved through the confused groups behind you. He relaxed in your grip as you fully exited the house and waved a quick bye to the ticket people at the gate.

Pausing just outside the gate, you moved just enough away from the entrance to not be in anyone’s way anymore. You finally let out a full laugh. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you punched him.”

Tadashi’s cheeks were in a deep flush, he was drowning in embarrassment as you laughed at him. “I didn’t mean to.” He whined, bringing his hands up to cover his face as he groaned. “I didn’t think.”

You smiled at him softly and gently pried his injured hand away from his face. “You protected me.” You giggled as he watched you carefully bringing his injured hand to your face to inspect. It wasn’t too bad, just a little tender (noted by his wince when you brushed a finger over it) and a little red. You kissed it softly and Tadashi froze in place at the feeling of your lips. “My knight in shining armor.” You looked at him sweetly and he swore he was going to pass out.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “yeah I just wanted to protect you.” He admitted to it, the embarrassment being covered by the sudden rush of excitement as you wound your fingers through his own.

“Well, my sweet knight,” you giggled as you tugged him away from the gate another step, “how about we get out of here and you take me on a date that both of us will enjoy more.”

He found himself nodding and following you in a daze. Maybe the haunted house was awful, but the night had certainly shaped up to be the best one he’d had in a while. He’d text his friends later and explain but for now, he couldn’t even care about the teasing he’d get from them about this. Not when your hand was in his hand and his heart was carefully in yours.

A/N: Idk what to put here. I’m tired. But I found a kitten last night so she has my heart now clearly. Idk feedback maybe pls?

#𓇻 fics